Excursion

Chapter Two - What We Saw at the Light

  When Salandil and I exited, we walked over to the supply teepee, which was much more dreary and dilapidated than the meeting tent. Lengthened shadows and coiled ropes surrounded the two of us as we gathered our things to make our trek. If I was more superstitious, I may have considered this to be a warning.

  Our things consisted of a knapsack filled with two canteens of water, and a couple rain parkas. We also strapped a pair of sinkshoes to our feet (large, sturdy footwear made from the flexible branches of Coopera trees and strung with the silk from giant spiders). The shoes were not built to make us sink; instead, they enabled a person to walk across the sand without sinking. We also brought along a small flask of brandy, for it was recorded that the woman who came from Empikah was extremely winded when she traveled from the sky, and assuming that whoever fell this time was under the same discomforts, the flask would be much appreciated.

  "So, where did you see it?"

  We were standing on one of the highest dunes surrounding the Vannakai camp, staring out across the now-muddy expanse. We had to pull our parkas on almost as soon as we got out into the weather, for the clouds had begun to release even more water, the raindrops disrupting the sand and causing the tents to tilt.

  "Right about there," Salandil replied, pointing in the direction of the neighboring Dolinkee Tribe, whose tents could just barely be seen.

  "In the Dolinkee?"

  "No, right about where the watering hole is."

  He pointed towards the only lake in the area; a large, beautiful thing that was envied by all the other desert tribes, due to its ability to produce a delicacy: fish.

  We set out for the watering hole immediately, only pausing to wave to the yak breeders stationed near the edge of our little town. The rain showed no signs of stopping, and I was beginning to daydream about the color green. It hadn't been seen for awhile in the vicinity of our tribe, but I knew after this rare, heavy rain, little plants would show their faces in the expanse of golden-brown, and the cacti would begin to explode with blooms.

  Salandil and I nearly lost sight of each other several times on our way to the watering hole. We were moving so fast in our eagerness, and the rain was coming down in solid sheets, making separation both frequent and dangerous. After groping around and shouting a bit, we eventually decided to clasp hands and continued to jog in this fashion through the muddy expanse. I'm sure we were a sight to be seen once we got to the watering hole. Covered head to toe in wet sand, panting like dogs, and yet our eyes still contained the excitement that we felt when we first left the camp.

  "Hello?" Salandil called over the noise of the rain, which was beginning to die down. "Is anyone here?!"

  His dark skin and drenched clothes didn't stand out much in the dim light, and I would be surprised if anyone could see him at all. But just as I was beginning to wonder, there was a splash, and then a voice came out of the gloom.

  "Um, yes. Hello."

  Salandil and I jumped, but before we had a chance to respond, the voice continued in a cry.

  "No, don't jump! Don't worry. Just... hang on a moment. I can't see a thing right now."

  The two of us did as we were told and stood perfectly still as a man emerged from the curtain of rain, heading right towards us.

  He was very tall – remarkably so – and met our gaze with a pair of striking blue-green eyes. He wore an expensive long black coat, but strangely enough, nothing under it, for I could see his bare chest underneath. But what surprised me most was his hair.

  "Blond," I breathed, which was probably an unfitting thing to say to an Empikah. "We haven't had a blonde in our tribe for centuries; in fact, the only time we've heard of them have been in ancient tales."

  "Oh, this?" the man inquired, grabbing a chunk of his hair. "This isn't blonde. This is pure white."

  "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," I responded, giving him a slight bow. "I'll remember next time."

  His expression softened. "Please do. I don't take kindly to those who call me a 'blond'."

  "But, you come from the Empikah?" Salandil inquired, brown eyes alive with wonder and hope.

  "I'm sorry... the Empikah? Who are..." Suddenly, the white-haired man's eyes widened, and he held up a hand. "... Just a moment. I remember something... something about falling from the sky..."

  "Salandil," I whispered. "Give him the flask."

  My friend nodded, and drew out the bottle of fine brandy from the knapsack at his side.

  The man took it, but instead of chugging it like I would have done, he inspected the liquid for a moment before uncapping it, and giving it a few careful sniffs.

  "You drink it," I explained.

  He gave me a gentle nod, before delicately raising it to his lips and swallowing it down.

  When he lowered the flask, his eyes widened, his mouth opened into a silent exclamation, and then, the Empikah fell face-first into the sand.