Of Plots and Mischief

Chapter 16: Moonlit conversations

Phyllon felt Sonaya watching him as he sat back against the tree trunk, watching the stars. He had taken the first watch, and he could feel from his that they were the only two who were still conscious. Sonaya was curious, and for some reason, wary. It was difficult to tell from his expression, especially at night, making Phyllon grateful that he never stopped finetuning his Gift.

"What is wrong?" Phyllon was careful not to raise his voice and accidently wake any of the others. Sonaya hesitated.

"How well do you know the foreigner?"

Foreigner? Phyllon puzzled. Sonaya sighed as he realised that Phyllon did not understand.

"The one with the braids, who parted earlier."

Phyllon looked at him disapprovingly. The silence grew tense, with a growing sense of unease coming from Sonaya. Phyllon could feel it, but ignored it, his own bad humour from the insinuation preventing him from responding. He knew better than to explain. There was no reason to reveal other people's secrets for someone who was not even willing to share his own.

A flutter of wings caught their attention, and they both looked up to see the moonlight glinting on the dark feathers of a bird as it alighted on a tree not far from them. Phyllon found himself smiling at the familiar sight before relaxing. He will be here soon.

"He is trustworthy." There was an unsaid implication hanging in the air as Phyllon started down Sonaya until the latter looked away with a sigh.

"You don't trust me yet." His voice appeared emotionless, yet Phyllon could feel a hint of disappointment and weariness from Sonaya.

"I don't know you," Phyllon corrected.

Sonaya crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. "What do you want to know?"

"What do you want to tell me," Phyllon countered.

"You know who I am. I don't need to tell where I come from."

"Still, you never told me or any of us."

Sonaya sighed as he leaned backwards, playing around with the leaf debris around him. "Do you blame me? You know how much prejudice we still face, despite having a longer history on this land. It is dangerous to let it be known among people we can't trust."

"Especially a chiefson, is that not right?" Phyllon probed, confirming his suspicions.

"How did you- ah," Sonaya shook his head, a hint of wryness over taking his earlier burst of fear and panic. "As expected of the Sahora's heir."

There shared a moment of silence. Phyllon spread his Gift, experimenting with the range as he waited for Sonaya to continue.

"There is no point in hiding who I am from you. Still, I'd rather none of the others know that I am from the Jaguthu tribe."

Phyllon hid a wince as he stole a glance towards their not so hidden spy. "I can promise that I will not be the one to tell them without your permission. But what I don't understand is what you were doing at the port. Don't you have a different," Phyllon waved his hand about as he tried to think of the word for what he wanted to say.

Sonaya chuckled. "I know what you mean. It is a family tradition that the next chief serves in a similar role for the kingdom before taking over. I just started early."

"Ah," Phyllon nodded his head. "So you have siblings. Or is it cousins?"

Phyllon felt a surge of shock, followed by acceptance. "How did you - never mind."

"So, how does this 'errand' help you become the next chief? I don't know how finding a mercenary can help you tribe."

Phyllon heard Sonaya sigh. "It is complicated. There are rumours... He is the only one left alive who can tell what happened."

Phyllon found his mind turning as he tried to recall everything he knew about the Jaguthu tribe before freezing as he recalled the Sahora's report. His eyes darted to the bird who was watching them, wondering.

"Do you think he is still alive?"

Phyllon felt a profound sadness coming from his companion. "I don't know. That is what I want to find out."

Phyllon saw the bird fly away, shaking his head in bemusement. Eavesdropping rarely hear anything pleasant. He knew the story, read the report... The truth was ugly, and he knew he could answer his friend's questions, but he knew it was not the only reason.

"What was the second reason?" He asked as he felt the emotions of a similar yet familiar pair approach them from different directions. They would arrive at roughly the same time, and he wondered how they would react after meeting the first time in years.

"Huh," Sonaya startled, staring back at Phyllon intently.

"That was why you personally wanted to meet him. But why is it best for the tribe if you help the portsmaster with whatever the lot of you are up to?"

"I-I don't understand."

Phyllon sighed, slightly disappointed. "We heard you. You feel that he can help with the issue. How?" Phyllon bluffed.

"He is the best mercenary for intelligence and 'delicate' operations, and he is the only one who has the capability to help us solve this crisis before it turns into a civil war or worse!"

Phyllon cringed as his voice echoed through the forest, watching as the prince and Asmir stirred. He felt mild amusement coming from opposite them and heard the soft clapping of their spectator.

He sighed as he turned to face the familiar shadows, while Sonaya started, anxiety and a mixture of unpleasant emotions churning from him.

"Wh-who is there?" There was a quaver in his voice as Sonaya jumped to his feet at turned to confront their uninvited listener.

There was a small glimmer of movement as the figure detached itself from the shadows, moonlight glinting on beads braided into dark hair, enframing a ruggedly handsome face. The man, older than his boyish features, chuckled, his deep melodic voice floating across as he gave a theatric bow.

"Why, the person you are looking for. You can call me 'Yron' for the time being. It is less of a mouthful than the 'Rauthian Scourge', don't you think?"

Phyllon shook his head as a high-pitched yelp woke up the rest of their party, exchanging a glance with a shocked Torynik who stared at the familiar features of the mischievous mercenary.