I turned around to find the withered shape of an old man at the end of the road. The backdrop of the huge village home made him seem small. Which he was not.
"Come speak with me, young man."
When I turned to face the warrior enraged at my presence— an old friend, he was gone. Back to his post outside of the building I wished to enter.
There seemed to be something beyond me going on.
I wasn't new to death either. Even so….
I walked away from the home that had assumedly been made into a coffin and approached the island elder.
His home only grew as I approached. Lined by vines and shaped sea stones. It was like a beacon in all its uniqueness.
The Elder was tall. Seven feet tall with a wide meaty frame hidden beneath his robes. The only way I could tell was from the thickness of his fingers as he gripped his club.
I gave a bow.
He turned and entered his home, beckoning me to follow.
When I rose, the dozens of island Lizards on the door scattered. I was told lizards were a bad omen to these people…..
I entered, welcomed by an interior filled with maps and objects of a world beyond this island. It was cluttered— but specific. Like a home someone had been in for decades.
There was a story told in the clutter. Only if you looked. Rhinosaurus Pelt body armor hung like a painting against the back wall. A Warrior's Mask sat at the center of an old oak wood desk. Its art and design told Ronin it came from The Sunlands. The same thing The Elder's skin tone and accent told him.
"You're always thinking, aren't you? Always looking at every angle until you find a crack." The Elder commented as he walked around his desk and took a seat in his leather chair.
"Everyone's always thinking." I replied. I could barely see the floor. It was covered in paintings of New Glorian Forests and Kumataiyan Sunrises.
The Elder waved off my reply and looked hard at me. The creases in his weathered face deepened, "Did you find the crack? Have you figured something out?…. If so this conversation won't be needed. Then again, if you did figure it out you'd look a bit more animated….. life does that to even the bravest men."
Life? I thought we were going to discuss death.
"This place is special, Sword-Fish. The people of this island…. They found me— wounded and at the mercy of the cutting currents. Their customs…. This meritocracy they hold— it's what's kept them alive and alone. They are a human aid playing as a people in that way. In many ways. So much culture and history…. But no suspicion and bigotry. It's….. it's wonderful, isn't it?"
Ronin side eyed the Elder, "Why are you saying all this?"
"Because I want to remind you, for all that these people give, they can take as well. I want to know how you would react. This place is quite the oasis for you. It's probably what's kept you alive as OceanLord this long. I want to know what you'd do if the visage of serenity over this island cracked under your gaze. Would you crack too?"
"Is she dead or not?" Ronin was tired of playing verbal gymnastics. "I'll attend whatever funeral customs take place here and help where I can before heading back to the ocean."
The Elder shook his head and smiled, "No. She is not dead."
They stood in silence for a moment.
"Since I answered your question, how about you answer mine? I asked, what would you do if these islands took something from you?" The Elder questioned.
"It depends on what's stolen."
The Elder shrugged, "What if it's something internal. Something that starts out small….. worthless…. One in a million. But once planted it grows. Life grows. Like a seed…."
I was out of the Elder's home before he even finished speaking.
The walk to her home was a blur. Somehow, I didn't see the faces of her brothers and sisters as they guarded her home. If the previous attacker came back for another round, his failure wasn't even a memory. None of it was.
If someone were to tell me in the future that I'd achieved teleportation in this moment, I'd be inclined to believe them.
I stood inside the small hut. It looked the same as it did over two years ago. Plucked flowers forever encased in crystallized oils bordered the door. Colored flame torches in the ceiling caused the encased flowers to glow and send refracted starlight dancing through the interior. The ocean outside was loud. A crushing ambiance on my crumpled psyche.
The child's breathing was louder. Loud like lightning in my ears. The thunder came in the form of my shaking hands as the child's mother turned around to face me.
Like the others she was large. The baby looked like a newborn in her tattooed arms. Her once young slender frame had widened and advanced post childbirth. Her skin held a radiant glow that rivaled the creeping sunlight beneath the cracks in the door. Even her dark curly hair was shining. She spoke, but I couldn't hear. Dammit. My ears were ringing.
Suddenly my old friends anger made all the sense in the world.
I was nothing more than an interloper. An urban legend to children and a distant ally to elders. I didn't speak, I didn't interact with anyone really. I came here to unwind. They knew my presence would never and could never be permanent. He knew. And still, through my own carelessness and loss in lust, I brought new life to this island.
I connected his sister to me in ways I couldn't maintain or reciprocate. In the ways their culture demanded.
But maybe I could. Maybe I could try….
"Kaia…." All I knew was her name. Id never wanted to speak their language until now…
She exhaled calmly. A very familiar mannerism and stood. The jingle of her nose and lip piercings felt like the only sounds of three on the entire planet.
I've faced Orc Chieftains and Dwarven Auramancers with less discomfort.
She stopped mere feet from me. Eye level but never meeting my eyes.
The child nuzzled her chest, like my presence was a discomforting cold breeze.
She handed me the child…. My child. She was young….. so very young. Barely enough hair covered her head. But it was jet black like my own. Even her skin was light like mine— lacking the bronze islander complexion of the natives. But she had her mother's eyes as she looked at me.
Then, she exhaled forcefully in that same way and reached up to touch my face. She wasn't gentle at all. She was forceful, direct. She even bit down on her tongue with grit as she pulled at my nose. There would never be a Tangent….. Hybrid Monster or Global event as bizzare and terrifying as this child.
A day etched into my mind for eternity. I knew it then. I knew it like I knew nothing before this. But with it came a crushing question that I couldn't be helped to answer following my years in special ops groups, Ninja Squads, or as OceanLord.
I wondered.
What now?