The Tribes of K'haren - Completed

Chapter 9.2

The fire was crackling loudly in the silence of the night. Everything further away than a few steps was cloaked in blackness. Nume and Kran were sitting close to the fire to dry their clothes and warm up, Raf'ney-krush was standing a little further away. He hadn't spoken a word since they'd come here. The two others hardly dared to whisper. They could no longer see the gseirut, it was probably asleep nearby, and the baymout had gone on a hunt.

The warmth of the fire reminded Nume of her life back in the tribe. She suddenly felt something inside her, something she had never felt before. During the last days, she'd thought more and more about her home but it was only now that she realised how much she missed it. Of course there were things going wrong, of course change had to be done, but it was still her home, her family. She could run away from them physically but in her heart, she would never abandon them. Nume would always be a phraio. Thus the guilt for all phraio's deeds lay upon her shoulders, too. And on those of Kran.

Kran stared into the flames. He refused to speak because he knew his voice would break if he tried. A sudden sadness had captured his heart. He'd seen it in Nume's eyes, too, but he didn't want to make it worse by talking about it. So he just sat there and tried not to think about his mother and father. He tried not to see his little sister's round face and he tried not to imagine her crying once he'd left them all behind. A tear rolled down his cheek but he wiped it away hastily.

Raf'ney-krush was disgusted. Disgusted by the phraio and their sentimentality. But mostly by himself. The phraio part in him echoed their sadness. He hated it. He had learned to shut his feelings off centuries ago. Only the presence of other phraio could now still make him feel things he didn't want to feel.

Most of the time, he kept away from all tribes. But sometimes he needed something from them; clothes, a map or a job to kill his boredom and earn the money to buy the previously mentioned things. Then he'd go to one of their bigger markets where there were always some phraio to be found. Different ones every time. The only jobs they ever had for him where of a man-hunting nature. What else would they need a dretho for? Most of them knew that he was the last of his kind, but they didn't know who he was.

The only reason for them not to have killed him yet was the fact that he always wore a sword, two daggers, some poison in a tiny bottle and some explosive powder with him. The rumours of him nearly killing a foolish young phraio a century ago had spread across all of K'haren nearly instantly. Ever since, nobody had dared to attack him. Well, nobody except for those he hunted down. But he couldn't really blame them, after all, they usually feared for their lives. None had ever really hurt him. One had given him a scar across his forehead, another had broken off a part of one of his horns. The latter didn't survive his trip back to the tribes...

Nume saw a slight smile on Raf'ney-krush's face when she looked over to him. She didn't dare to ask what he was thinking about but she wanted him to stop smiling so she raised her voice and said: 'Where are we going next?'

'You? Well, unless the siren tells you otherwise, you're going straight home. You have a message to spread.' Raf'ney-krush replied absently.

'You think that's going to work? Do you really believe we can just go to the tribes, tell them "hey, what you're doing is horrible, you have to stop living the way you do, it would actually be best if you just left K'haren instantly!" and then they'll listen?' Kran sneered.

'No. And that is not what they are supposed to do.'

'What isn't?' Nume wondered.

'Leaving. There is no point in them leaving K'haren, they'll just find another place to destroy. What's the point in that? You really must see the big picture...' the words left Raf'ney-krush's mouth before he noticed that he was quoting his old master. He regretted it instantly. It made him feel.