The TwiceBorn

Ignorance Is The Night Of The Mind

 Loki plodded along, the ribbons in his mane bobbing gaily.  Alora noticed a few upraised eyebrows as she passed by.  She'd decided that when she went back to the Livery she'd tell Duran that he was merrily hopscotching to the Underrealms by showing favoritism to her horse.  His religious beliefs were obscure (he did let her stay at The Livery,after all) but the threat of burning in eternal fire should easily outweigh the ponderous bulk of unrequited puppy love.

The rich,smoky aroma of meat caught her attention.  She pulled Loki up in front of a tiny stall occupied by a man in a flowing red robe with one of those strangely curved swords strapped to his side.  She recognised him as being from the Sand Flats, a place her people had called "The Saties."

The inhabitants there spoke a strange tongue and had skin as hard and brown as beef jerky.  Their horses were small, with oddly dished faces, and moved with a stunning quickness.  She'd never gone intoThe Saties because, according to everyone she'd ever overheard, there was nothing there but sand and these strange people who thrived in the empty heat.

                      The man smiled at her.  His teeth were a startling white against his leathered face and his black eyes glittered with the optimism of the merchant trying to turn a coin.  He'd dug a long pit and filled it with slow burning wood.  A grill made of steel bars was fashioned across the top.  On these, rested skewers of spiced meat.

The man waved his hand in a grand gesture over the pit.

"Kefti."  He informed her proudly.  She studied him,confused.  Kefti was either "hello", the meat on the rack, or the ever possible, "Get away, you demon bitch".

"Okay." She nodded and pulled two copper pieces from her purse.  It was probably too much but she tossed them to him anyway.  He caught them,smiled, and handed her one of the skewers.

"Maybe I should move to the Sand Flats." She thought as she marveled at the simple exchange. "Not speaking the language isn't that big of a barrier."

She took a bite of the meat. Her first impression was she'd stuck a piece of burning wood into her mouth.  Her eyes teared instantly and she choked.  She leaned forward off of Loki and spit out meat along with strings of saliva as her mouth desperately worked to rid itself of the fiery taste.

"Poisoned! Oh shit,I've been poisoned!" She thought frantically.  Her mouth was on fire.  Her throat worked as tears dripped from her face.  A rush of heat enveloped her back as though someone had tossed a burning blanket over her.

She felt a nudge at her leg and opened one burning eye to see the merchant holding out a bowl, his face frantic.  She snatched it and poured the liquid down her throat. It was thick and sour-tasting  with just a hint of sweetness.  The scalding heat slowly receded and she shuddered.  She groped for Loki's mane and managed to pull herself upright.  The merchant stared at her,frozen.

"Kefti." He gave her a helpless smile and shrugged.  She handed him back the bowl and gave him a weak smile in return.  "Kefti."  She repeated.

 Her voice wasn't much more than a ragged whisper.  She said the word with an equal amount of  awe and respect.  The fire was gone but it had left a raw feeling in her throat.  She wondered if the spicy meat had peeled some of the coating off her tongue.

With shaking hands,she gathered up Loki's reins.  He hadn't been very impressed with her brush with death.  His head was down as he contemplated his hooves. She nudged him with her heels and he grunted irritably and started to shuffle along.  His ears bobbed along with each step and his head dropped lower and lower.

"He's drunk." She realized with dismay.  What was she going to do if he just dropped out from under her?  This was a definite sign from above or below, take your pick,to call it a day.