Tales Of Morveria: Paradise Found

A Tale of Friendship

By Mantrid Brizon

Pushing his way through the brambles and the thicket, he pants and gasps for air. His legs are weary from many miles of trudging through the dense wood of the unknown land, his mind swirling as he looks for something, anything that might give him a semblance of normalcy. His throat is parched; he should start with a drink of water. Carrying on in spite of his weary muscles, he feels the sweat covering his body. He pushes a shrub aside and winces, glancing at the long but shallow cut on his left bicep. He’s lucky it isn’t worse. After all, he barely made it out alive!

He never should’ve tried to steal from the corn field, but hunger forced his hand, and the armed farmer who’d caught him forced him to flee. For two days he’s been running, fearful that a party might be out searching for him, but he just can’t run anymore. He pauses and rests against a tree, fighting to keep his eyelids from closing. He’s just so exhausted! How long has it been since he had a proper sleep? The day before he left the temple? He can’t even remember; it feels like so long ago.

Just as he feels the crushing weight of defeat, his spirit breaking, that’s when he hears it. His ears twitch and his back straightens. With nose pointed toward the sky, he sniffs the air. It sounds like water and smells like water. Could it be?! Moving toward the sound, he eventually emerges from the woods and into a clearing. It is! Water! The Vostii of the fox-kin finds himself standing before a small but pristine lake, the shimmering crystalline liquid calling out to him like a siren. Reeds sway and hiss in the wind. At that moment, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He stumbles on his large, paw-like feet as his shaky legs carry him toward the shoreline. Dropping to his knees, he places his clawed hands into the water and leans forward. He’d intended to splash himself with the refreshing liquid, to feel it cascading over the damp and musky fur that covers his athletic body, but he’s simply too weak. Instead, he holds his breath, sticks his snout into the water and drinks his fill. The water in his stomach almost makes him forget how hungry he is.

When was the last time he ate? He tries to recall when he’d had a proper meal, but that may have been around the time he also had a good night’s sleep. The pain in his arm calls out to him, and the fox man glances at the wound. Brushing his golden bangs from his deep blue eyes, he wets his hair and slicks it back, then takes a handful of water and tries to clean the caked blood from his fur. He uses a piece of his tattered and torn garment to fashion a bandage. He sits upon his knees and looks into the rippling waves as he ties the cloth with his fingers and teeth.

The water makes the softest and sweetest of sounds; it shivers with the gentle breeze, the reeds swaying so gracefully. He stares at his own reflection, his yellow hair, long and unkempt, blowing with the wind. The thick ponytail he often wears has long-ago fallen out, the cloth ribbon plucked from it by the greedy claws of the forest trees. His fur is so dirty, caked in the grim of weeks of travel. Why did he ever leave the temple? What possessed him to flee from The Order? He was safe there!

It’s true that they hadn’t allowed him to leave with the others, keeping him well past his sixteenth birthday, but they fed him and clothed him and gave him the Yasheriit’s speech. Such wondrous gifts they’d bestowed upon the young and innocent beast man, who wanted nothing more than to explore the world beyond the temple’s walls, to have a life worthy of the word. Is that really so much to ask? Could it have been how often he’d rebelled against the vicar and the acolytes of the temple? Why else would they keep him on temple grounds beyond his coming-of-age?

Perhaps it would’ve been easier if he hadn’t grown up with the Yasheriit at all. The race, who colloquially call themselves “human,” have conquered the whole of Morveria, and as a young man of The Order, he was given many gifts, including their language. Most of the beast folk speak ancient Hitrosii, especially the slaves and the untamed, the language of the elves of Chumar. Because of his biology, his mind will never learn another language; he cannot speak to his own kind, unless they themselves were also raised by the humans, adopting their tongue from birth.

Perhaps then he wouldn’t have been so afraid of the untamed? Had he learned their ancient tongue instead of Yasheriiti, he could’ve joined them, rather than avoid them as he had been for all this time. Unfortunately, he now also fears the humans. He didn’t before. The first time he had to steal to survive was a dark day, and they only became darker. He presses his hand against his bandage, feeling the throbbing of his wound. It was caused by a bolt, fired from the crossbow of the farmer whose crops he endeavored to steal.

The farmer simply assumed that the barely-clothed and ragged looking Vostii of the fox-kin was untamed, a wild tribal; he fired without giving him the chance to speak and prove his allegiance. Looking into the water, the fox can understand the farmer’s action, though he still resents him for it. His anger softens as it transforms into sorrow. The fox gazes into his reflection and holds back tears. He hates what he’s become. A thief, a vagrant, a nobody... What he wouldn’t give to have a normal life again, even if it meant a lifetime of servitude with The Order.

Crawling away from the lake, he makes his way toward an old apple tree. The season is past, but there are a few apples still lying on the ground. Taking the least rotten of them, he eats what he can stomach, sniffling and wiping the few tears that manage to escape. With his body ready to give out, he uses the last of his strength to make himself comfortable. He props himself up against the tree and closes his eyes.

“Roda! Roda, no!”

The Vostii shifts as he dreams of dogs, barking and bounding in endless circles.

“Roda? Where are you?!”

“Bark, bark, bark!”

“Roda!!!”

With the twitch of his ears, the Vostii’s eyes shoot open. This is no dream! He turns his head to see a face! A dog stands next to him, the common, four-legged beast panting away. As soon as their eyes lock, the dog closes its mouth. It cocks its head as it’s nose nearly touches that of the Vostii, whose fox-like face is so similar in form. Suddenly, the dog opens wide and licks his snout.

“Ugh.” The Vostii wipes his lips with the back of a furry hand.

“Roda! There you are! Oh...”

Turning to look, the Vostii is horrified to see a human child standing not far from him. They lock eyes and the beast man feels his flight or fight response kicking in. He may be weak, but even in his weakened state, he could easily defeat the child and his dog, who appears to be roughly seven or eight-years-old.

“HELLO!!!” The child gleefully proclaims, waving to him.

The Vostii raises an eyebrow. Why is the child so friendly?! Why isn’t he afraid of the unfamiliar beast man?!

“Oh, I mean... Hmm... Z’dr... No-no... Uhm! ... ... Z’dras’vii? ... I forgot!” The child whines.

“Hello.” The beast man replies, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“Oh! You speak my language!”

Before he realizes his mistake, the child dashes up to him. The Vostii can barely rise to his feet before the child is within arm’s reach. He looks down at the human, who he can now discern to be a small boy. His dog, Roda, looks to the boy and then to the Vostii before barking a few more times. The dog doesn’t appear afraid, merely mildly apprehensive.

“Roda, don’t be rude!” The boy remarks. “Hi! I’m Josa! What’s your name, mister?”

“... Kiiv.” He says, using another strip of cloth to tie his hair into a thick ponytail.

“Keev?” Little Josa cocks his head.

“Close.”

“I like your hair, Keev!”

“Erm... Thank you?” Kiiv takes a step back. “What [are] you doing here, alone?”

“I was taking Roda for a walk. What are you doing here, Keyiv?” Josa asks, butchering the Vostii’s name.

“I was... Also walking. And it [is] ‘Kiiv.’”

“I’m sorry! ... Kiev! Are you hurt?!” Josa gasps, again mispronouncing his name.

“Huh? Oh!” Kiiv looks to his bandage, which is already tinted dark red with blood. “I [am] fine.”

“That doesn’t look fine, Keiev.”

“It’s ‘Ki-‘... Forget it... I [am] fine. I [am] not hurt. You [can] go play.”

“But there’s nobody to play with!” Josa pouts, hanging his head.

“Do you not have friends?” Kiiv cocks his head and furls his brow.

“Well... Not really. B-but I have Roda, so that’s okay!” The little boy swiftly insists, dropping to a knee and throwing his arms around the dog’s scruffy neck.

“Oh...”

“Do you want to play, Kyiv?!” Josa excitedly asks.

Kiiv doesn’t know how to respond. The little boy with short red hair and vibrant emerald eyes looks up to him without fear. It a childlike expression, innocent and unaware. It baffles him.

“Are you not afraid?” Kiiv finally asks.

“Why?” Josa cocks his head to one side, his little smile ever present.

“Because I [am a] stranger.”

“You seem nice, and Roda likes you!”

Roda sniffs under Kiiv’s tail, causing the Vostii to turn away, batting the dog in the face with the bushy appendage. Roda blinks, then barks and licks his hand.

“... Are you sure you’re okay? That doesn’t look good.” Josa points to his bandage.

“It [is] fine.”

“No, let me help!” Josa chirps, abruptly taking hold of the Vostii’s hand.

The fox man finds himself being led toward the water, where Josa sits atop the ground and lifts a small satchel that hangs from a strap across his little body. It’s just the right size for him. Roda, the dog, walks in circles around them, then sits just between the human child and the Vostii teenager. He digs around in the bag for a moment while Kiiv watches, a brow raised. He repeatedly glances over his shoulder, fearful of someone else seeing them and assuming the worst. Perhaps he should run?

“Here! I have real bandages. Dad says I need them in case I get hurt! I have a lunch, too! I can share it with you!” Josa chirps, pulling items from his pack.

“How old are you?” Kiiv asks.

“I’m ten!”

“Ten?! You look younger.”

“Yeah...” Josa sighs, his expression turning gloomy. “That’s what everyone else says...”

Kiiv suddenly feels badly, as if he’d offended the little boy. Why would he? He only pointed out the truth. Josa’s small size and childlike innocence makes him seem much younger than he really is, and this seems to bother the child. Josa is quiet for a moment as he takes Kiiv’s bandage off, only to stare in shock at the wound.

“Oh, no! That looks really bad!”

“It [is] alright.” Kiiv remarks, amused by Josa’s melodrama.

“Nuh-uh.” Josa shakes his head. “Here! I’ll help you!”

With a little clay jar of ointment and a fresh bandage, Josa dabs the goop onto Kiiv’s cut before lovingly wrapping it in the off-white cloth. He ties the ends in a little bow, working hard to make sure the ends are even and don’t flop over.

“There! All better, and it looks nice!” Josa chirps.

“Bark!” Roda barks.

“See? He agrees.”

Kiiv cannot help but chuckle and grin at the genteel young human.

“Do you like ham, Kiv?”

“It’s ‘Kiiv,’ and yes, I eat ham.”

“Your name is hard. Can I call you something else? How about Keevy, or... Oh! I know! Kiva! That sounds nice, right?!”

Once again, Kiiv is at a loss for words. With a sigh of mild frustration, he nods his head.

“Kiva sound[s] fine.”

And as quickly as that, Josa prepares a meal for Kiiv, giving him the larger portion of his food, while still saving some for Roda, whom he feeds by hand. As they sit, Josa asks him a slew of questions. Who is he, where did he come from, where is he going, why is he alone. Typically, this would feel like an interrogation, but the young human is so innocent, so naïve in his way that it’s clear to Kiiv that the little boy is simply curious. Still fearful of capture and punishment, the Vostii masks the truth. However, as soon as Josa learns that he lived in a city, the little boy is in awe.

“Ooh! What was it like?! Was it big?! Did you meet a lot of people?! I bet you’ve seen some amazing things in all your adventures!”

Adventures? That isn’t exactly what Kiiv would call it. He can hardly get a word in edgewise as Josa bombards him with his childish ramblings and inane questions. It’s immediately clear that the young human has no idea what lives and breathes beyond his home. The mighty quill-bears, the packs of dire wolves, the Drakozhai, also known as the desert raptors or “sand-skimmers,” and even the Slivaya, the terrifying but relatively peaceful beasts who blend in with the very ground and stone around them.

That isn’t even mentioning the most dangerous threats of all; rogues and bandits, human and beast folk alike, as well as the wild and untamed beast folk who live as Kiiv’s savage ancestors, without civilization or morals. No, Josa. Those were not adventures.

“Josa...” Kiiv begins but pauses.

“Yes, Kiva?!”

Reaching out a clawed hand, the fox places it upon the human’s little shoulder, giving him the gentlest of squeezes.

“The world beyond... It [is] not [as] safe or peaceful, not how you believe [it] to be.”

“What do you mean, Kiva?”

Kiiv is taken aback. Hearing the boy speak his nickname as he looks to him for guidance gives the Vostii a warm feeling in his heart. He cannot help but smile as he points to the place from whence Josa and Roda came.

“There...” Kiiv begins. “Home [is] there. Home [is] safe. Your home [is] better than [the] world beyond. It [is] where I would prefer to be.”

“But my village is boring...” Josa whines.

“Boring [is] good! Boring [does] not hurt you.” Kiiv chuckles.

“If you say so... OH!!!” Josa suddenly perks up. “Do you want to come live there with me?!”

“...”

“You said it was safer. I bet they would all love you!” Josa’s eyes widen, his innocent smile ever present.

“Oh, uh... That may not be [a] good idea...” Kiiv glances to the left and to the right as he scratches his head.

“But... But you could be my friend!”

It takes some time before Kiiv is able to talk Josa into forgetting about the notion. In the end, he’s forced to distract him altogether with feigned pains in his arm, which Josa dutifully treats with a numbing ointment. After a time, when his strength returns, Kiiv walks with Josa and Roda, exploring the sights around the outskirts of the village. The boy and his dog show the teenage Vostii the vast fields where farmers grow wheat and corn and beans. They walk near the apple orchard and follow a stream, and eventually find themselves standing before the village itself.

Humble homes of wattle and daub, whitewashed and clean, line the earthen streets of the village. It’s picturesque, and Kiiv finds himself in awe. This place is the first he’d seen that is befitting of the word “paradise.” It kills him to think that he cannot set foot there.

“Do you want to see my house?!” Josa excitedly asks.

“No!”

“Why not?” Josa looks confused.

Fearful of what might happen if other humans discovered who he is and where he really came from, Kiiv is reluctant to say. Perhaps they’ll send him home, where he belongs? What a lovely thought. But perhaps not? Perhaps they’ll whip and beat him first, or assume he’s wild and kill him on sight, like the farmer did? Kiiv looks down at the young boy and feels a tinge of guilt. Josa’s eyes are wide but unseeing. He certainly doesn’t want to lie to the boy!

“Perhaps I [will] not be welcomed...” He finally suggests.

“My house is your house!” Josa proclaims.

“Oh, Josa...” Kiiv sighs and shakes his head whilst fighting a smile.

The boy is so innocent, so trusting. It makes Kiiv fear for the boy, a child he hardly knows. If Kiiv was a nefarious sort, Josa would let him walk right in, in the dead of night, not realizing the horrors he had in store for the child and his family. Kiiv, thankfully, is not nefarious.

“I [am] comfortable by the lake.”

“Okay...” Josa pouts.

Josa and Roda lead Kiiv back to the lake, where the Vostii relies on his instinct to begin fashioning a primitive camp. No matter how educated, no beast man nor woman ever forgets the stone age skills of survival. Josa and the barking dog have since taken their leave, as the child needed to be home before the sky turned pink and the first of the two moons shone brightly in the sky. It was to be a cold night; Kiiv could sense it. He collected as much firewood as he could, but new that it might not be enough.

He sat before his primitive shelter of sticks and piled leaves only to suddenly hear a rustling. Springing to his feet, he turns and listens only to smile at the now familiar barking of a particular dog. With a little sigh and a roll of his eyes, the fox sees Roda leaping through some bushes.

“Bark, bark!”

“Roda...” Kiiv crosses his arms before his chest.

“Bark!”

“What [are] you doing here?” The fox man asks the dog.

“Hi, Kiva!” Josa chirps, bounding out of the brush a second later.

A large backpack hangs from his little shoulders, laden with goods.

“Josa!” Kiiv gasps. “What [are] you doing here?! It [is] late!” He scolds the youth.

“I know...” Josa briefly bows his head. “But I didn’t want you to be out here all alone! I felt bad, so I brought you some stuff!”

“What [did] your parents say?”

“I told them I was camping near the orchard, close to the house.” Josa replies, pulling items from the pack.

“You should not lie to your parents, Josa. Lying [is] bad. ‘The One’ [does] not like liars.”

“I’m sorry... But I felt really bad! I thought of you all by yourself; I know I don’t like being alone.”

Kiiv would be lying if he’d said he wasn’t touched by the boy’s thoughtfulness. Josa pulls a wool blanket from his pack and presents it to the Vostii, who now feels quite guilty for both scolding and denying him. As he clutches the blanket, however, the teenager of the beast folk cannot help but feel somewhat protective over the young boy, whom he knows is ill-prepared for the world beyond, just as he was. He’s too sweet, too thoughtful, too trusting; it could hurt him someday. Seeing the purity in the boy’s eyes worries Kiiv.

They sit by the campfire and share the blanket, draping it over their shoulders. Josa reveals even more goodies, pulling out packed food which he’d likely stolen from his family’s home. Kiiv begins to fear that his presence will find the young boy in trouble, and a part of him wants nothing more than to send Josa home before his parents discover his deception.

“You know Adonai?” Josa suddenly asks, making a sandwich.

“What?!”

“You said The One doesn’t like liars. You know of Adonai, the creator?” Josa hands the food to Kiiv.

“Er... I hear of Adonai...” Kiiv glances around.

“I thought only beast folk of The Order knew about our god! You must have traveled all over!” Josa chirps, his eyes wide as he stares in awe of the Vostii.

“Perhaps... I have seen many places.” Kiiv murmurs.

“I wish I could travel.” Josa sighs, feeding scraps to Roda as he makes himself something to eat. “I don’t always feel like I belong here... ... Can I go with you, Kiva?”

Kiiv’s heart stops and his eyes begin to water. As he looks closely, he can see a pain inside of Josa. It’s a silent anguish, the suffering of an innocent heart burdened by uncertainty. Where does he belong? Where is his place in the world? It’s a turmoil that he himself endured for so long; the yearning to discover somewhere better, somewhere where he was wanted. Unable to help himself, Kiiv reaches out and rests a clawed hand atop the boys shoulder.

“What of your parents?”

Josa glances down and shrugs.

“And Roda?”

“He can come, too.” Josa insists.

“What if he like[s] it here?”

“Bark, bark!”

“See? Roda [does] not want to leave.” Kiiv replies.

“You can talk to Roda?!” Josa gasps.

“I can.” Kiiv nods.

Kiiv rests his hand atop the boy’s head and playfully ruffles his hair. Little Josa appears annoyed, grumbling as he tries to fix the ruby strands.

“Trust me, Josa. You [are] better off here.”

“Mmrrmm!” Josa whimpers. “Okay... If you say so, Kiva...”

“I do.”

Kiiv spends the rest of the night watching over little Josa, showing the same care that the youth has for him. When Josa falls asleep, he surrenders the wool blanket to the boy to keep away the chill. When the fire begins to die, he quietly slips away, using his superior night vision to search for wood in the darkness. Roda lifts his head and begins to follow.

“Bark?”

“Shh. Josa [is] sleeping.” Kiiv whispers to the dog, a clawed finger pressed against his lips.

Roda’s ears droop and the dog falls silent. With his canine companion walking alongside him, the Vostii of the fox-kin collects quite an assortment of firewood. Roda even carries a small branch in his mouth, his tail wagging as he brings it home for his new friend. They both glance at Josa as they place their haul as quietly as possible. Sitting near the boy and keeping an eye out for danger, Kiiv stokes the fire. His bushy tail sways to and fro with delight. Once he builds it back up, he looks back and watches Josa for a moment.

He cannot help but feel guilty. Is he misleading the boy? He never encourages such a foolhardy thing as “adventure,” but his mere presence has filled the impressionable child with wonder. If he doesn’t find a way to resolve the situation, Josa, as exuberant and bold as he is, might very well run away to follow him. How heartbroken would his parents be? How much more trouble would the runaway Vostii be in?! He lets out a heavy sigh as he contemplates a particularly unnerving course of action. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll take the boy home?

Fear creeps in. If he does that, what will become of him?! Will people think he abducted the boy, or fear him to be wild and untamed?! Will they hurt him for fleeing from The Order?! As he ponders the many horrors that may await him, he feels something else. His ears perk and eyes grow wide. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees that Josa has grabbed onto his swaying tail, hugging the fluffy appendage like a teddy bear. Kiiv reaches back to gently peel his arm away, only for Josa to stir.

Something comes over the Vostii, who begins to feel a kinship with the child who has so generously cared for him. Why wake him up? Why not let him sleep? Turning back to face the fire, Kiiv resigns himself to sitting up all night and guarding Josa. Roda lies down beside him, placing his head in the fox man’s lap. He reaches down and pets the dog’s head, only for the beast to raise its brow and gaze up at him. Their eyes lock and Roda’s tail wags. Hearing only the crackling of the fire, Kiiv places another log into it, one hand petting Roda’s head.

It’s a peaceful moment, the very definition of serene. Inevitably, the Vostii falls asleep, stretching out and lying on his side, so that Josa can continue to snuggle with his fluffy tail. The following morning, only a few hours later, Kiiv is startled awake as Roda flops down, slamming against his side. He opens his eyes to find himself lying on his back, Roda to his left and Josa to his right, the young boy turned away from him and using an outstretched arm as a pillow.

“Mmm... That was a good dream.” Josa groans as he stretches.

“Morning already?!” Kiiv shoots upright, feeling the numbness in his arm.

“You’re already awake?! You must be an early bird!” Josa chirps.

“Yes...” Kiiv’s pokes his sleeping arm as he looks to Josa. “Sleep well?”

“Uh-huh!” The boy nods. “How was your sleep?”

“Wonderful...” Kiiv sighs, struggling to move his fingers against the pins and needles.

“Good! I knew the blanket would help you!”

Kiiv and Josa pack up the little camp while Roda digs holes for seemingly no reason, kicking up dirt that speckles Kiiv’s long, yellow hair.

“I should take you home.” Kiiv remarks, brushing the dirt from his hair with his claws.

“You want to see my house?!”

Kiiv pauses, his heart racing at the possibilities that await him. Looking to the little human, whose innocent face gazes up at him, he realizes that there is only one right answer; he needs to return Josa to his parents before this becomes a problem. Whatever happens to him will be the price he pays, even if he’s doing right by the young boy.

“Yes, I would enjoy that.” Kiiv speaks softly, trying not to appear unsettled.

“Yay!!!”

Kiiv grits his teeth and endures the painful knot in his stomach as Josa and the barking Roda lead him toward the village. His legs become wobbly, as much from the anxiety as his lack of sleep. There are people in the distance. Should he turn and run? This may be his last chance!

“There’s my house!” Josa chirps.

“Bark, bark, bark!” Roda races for the door to a home a few hundred yards away.

People stop and turn, watching the strange figure approaching with one of their own. Most of them are humans but a few are beast folk. There are some Vostii present, a bunny-kin, a cat-kin, a mouse-kin and two wolf-kin. There are also some Korutan, the hoofed beast folk. This is unsurprising, as the Korutan have long been allies of the humans, the first to be tamed by the furless and tailless rulers of Morveria. A human-sized pony-kin and a truly imposing horse-kin help a human load a two-wheeled cart, stopping only at the sight of the stranger.

They’re visibly startled by to find the teenage Vostii of the fox-kin, who wears little more than tattered rags to cover himself, the silver and dark purple remnants of initiate’s temple garments. The lady of the mouse-kin looks to the bandage on his arm and Kiiv can hear the people whispering. The humans speak to their beast folk in ancient Hitrosian; he hasn’t a clue what they’re saying. Someone calls out, cupping their hands around their mouth, and a hideously strong looking Vostii of the bear-kin, nearly seven-feet-tall and with long, sharp fangs and visible muscles, emerges from a house.

He looks around for any more beast folk, fearing that he may be attacked at any moment. Interestingly, he sees no Sabaarii; no lizard-like sand-kin or the amphibious, salamander-like water-kin are anywhere to be found. There’s also no Peryava or Uvanii, the reclusive beast folk with the gift of flight, though that isn’t surprising, given their rarity. Still, there are far too many to fight off, and he couldn’t possibly evade the females of the horse and bear-kin; their walking strides alone could probably match his swiftest gait.

The group closes in as he walks deeper and deeper into the village. Glancing back, he can see that they’ve been encircled, the towering female of the bear-kin narrowing her eyes as she blocks his only escape. There’s no turning back; nearly the entire village has seen him, and he now walks beyond the threshold of their earthen streets. Kiiv can hear Roda barking inside of the house, only for a woman’s frustrated voice to repeatedly ask the dog what the problem is. He gulps as he prepares himself for the worst.

“Josa! Where were-... Who’s that?!?!” His mother stops and stares at Kiiv.

“Hi, mom! This is my new friend!” Josa chirps.

“... Where were you?! Your father went to find you this morning and you weren’t by the orchard like you’d said you’d be!” She scolds him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the stranger.

“I’m sorry! I was with Kiva!”

“Who’s Kiva? Him?!” His mother looks to the unfamiliar beast man.

“Kiiv.” The Vostii corrects.

“Wait... Can he understand us?!”

“Uh-oh...” Josa’s face sinks.

“Perhaps. I. should...” Kiiv mutters, to Josa’s mother’s shock.

Before he can regain his thoughts and finish his sentence, Kiiv bumps into something. He whirls around and looks up at two towering figures, a pair female beast folk. The nearly seven-foot-tall Korutan of the horse-kin was loading a cart with a human, while the Vostii of the bear-kin had closed in after first blocking his escape route. The bear woman matches her equine friend in both height and strength! They tower over the teenage fox boy whose ears droop and bushy tail falls limp, dangling feebly betwixt his scrawny legs. With angry snarls, they grab onto Kiiv’s arms and lift him into the air.

“Heh... I can explain!” He looks between the beast women.

They don’t seem to comprehend him, raising their brows and looking to Josa’s mother for instruction.

“I think you’d better...” She sternly demands, arms crossed before her chest. “Pohl’zhiit ohn va’nuvii.” She tells the beast women.

They obey and step into Josa’s house one after the other, carrying Kiiv by the arms like a petulant child. Josa’s mother points to a room and they promptly drop Kiiv onto the floor of a bed chamber.

“This is my room! I can show you my books and toys!” Josa chirps.

“Not now, Josa. I need to speak to you.”

“But mom!” Josa whines.

“No buts! ... Zhe’vuzh’na?” She suddenly speaks to the beast women.

“Zhe?” They replied.

“Mii’vyed; stro’zhiit ok’nei oht va’nyii. Lo’zhahd; zhu’sa, posk moy mu’zhal.”

Kiiv is left alone, sitting in Josa’s bedroom and contemplating his fate. He can hear the muffled voices of Josa and his mother, who try to talk quietly so that Kiiv cannot listen in with his superior hearing. Despite this, Josa’s mother clearly forgets that Kiiv speaks their language; either that or she struggles to remain calm.

“You did what?!” His mother gasps.

“It was dark and cold, and Kiva was lonely! I didn’t want him to spend a night all by himself!” Josa proclaims.

“You spent the night with a strange beast man?!”

“He’s only six years older than me, mom.”

“Did he hurt you or touch you?!” His mother gasps.

“He touched me lots of times!” Josa chirps.

“WHERE?!”

“On my head.”

“WITH WHAT?!?!”

“His hand...?”

Kiiv begins to tremble. This doesn’t sound like it’s going well at all. He looks to the window and hastily opens the shutters, only to see the snarling face of the bear woman.

“Rrrr!”

“Sorry! My mistake!” He remarks, swiftly pulling the shutters closed.

He turns to face the door and contemplates escape. Perhaps he can sprint past the young boy and his mother? The adrenaline starts to flow and he can feel himself readying for a grand escape, but first he needs to be sure they’re not paying attention. He places his tall, pointy ear against the door to listen, but Josa and his mother are once again speaking quietly. He hears heavy footfalls. Suddenly, the door swings open, knocking him to the ground! Kiiv bangs his head on something and falls unconscious.

“Kiva? Are you okay?” Josa’s voice rings in his ears.

Slowly opening his eyes, Kiiv looks around the room. His paw-like feet dangle over the footboard of Josa’s child-sized bed. He turns his head and sees a familiar face.

“Bark!” Roda barks before licking his snout.

“Ugh.” Kiiv winces and looks away. “Dog breath!”

“Sorry.” Josa pulls Roda back by the collar.

“Well, at least he’s okay.” A man’s voice remarks.

Bolting upright, Kiiv suddenly notices a pressure around his head and reaches up to touch the bandage, tight quite tightly. He can smell the iron of blood, and winces from yet another wound.

“Are you okay?” Josa’s mother speaks with a soft voice.

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll leave you two alone... Come, Josa. Bring Roda.”

“Okay.”

Kiiv watches as all but the strange man leave the room. He’s a tall, burly man with short ruby hair and emerald eyes. He stands quite tall for a human, well over six-feet, and has the build of a man who carries tree trunks for a living. He pulls up a chest filled with Josa’s toys, closes the lid and uses it for a chair. He draws a menacing looking dagger from a sheath on his belt and jabs the end of it into the nightstand beside Josa’s little bed. Kiiv’s wide eyes stare at the blade.

“I’m Josa’s father...” He begins.

“Oh...” Kiiv gulps.

“So! ... You’re from one of the temples.”

“Yes.” Kiiv sheepishly replies.

“That wasn’t a question. Only The Order and The Companions have beast folk who know our language, and to my knowledge, The Companions don’t sell males in their, uhm, ‘line of work’... If you can call it that.” Josa’s father rolls his eyes. “That and what’s left of those initiate’s robes you’re wearing.” He adds, motioning with a finger. “My son told us about you. He said you were very good to him.”

“Yes.” Kiiv sheepishly nods.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Kiiv furls his brow.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t understand me. I love my son more than anything, and if you ever threaten him, I’ll bury that knife into your skull... See these arms?” He pauses to flex a muscle. “You know I can... Now... I’d like to know why you were kind to my son.” Josa’s father calmly and yet sternly repeats himself.

“I...” Kiiv hesitates.

“Go on!” The man begins to grow impatient.

“I [did] not want harm to come to him.” Kiiv begins.

“...” Josa’s father’s brow raises in surprise.

“I would have avoided him but I slept. I try to send him away but he [did] not listen.”

“No, he often doesn’t...” Josa’s father sighs.

“Josa [is] very innocent, very naïve. I saw [the] good in him and feared.”

Josa’s father furls his eyebrows, his emerald orbs slowly scanning the youth.

“He thinks [the] world [is] safe. He [does] not realize... I brought him home because he need[s] protecting.”

“Hmm...” The man’s eyes continue to scan the Vostii, taking note of every expression, every breath, every look in his anxious eyes. “Why did you leave The Order? They keep you safe in the temples.”

“I [did] not feel I belong[ed] there... They [would] not tell me why I can never leave, when all [of] my friends [are] placed in human homes.”

“I see...”

Kiiv and Josa’s father stare at each other for some time. The stern and strong man looks about as terrifying as that Vostii of the bear-kin who guarded the only window. Reaching for his dagger, he plucks the knife from the wood of the nightstand and methodically sheathes it.

“Josa likes you, and so does Roda. If it were just my son, I’d be less inclined to be so forgiving, but Roda is a better judge of character than anyone I know.” The man begins, rising to his feet and returning Josa’s toy chest to its rightful place. “My wife, Sarai, will prepare extra clothes and a meal for you. I am Darvo.”

“Kiiv.” The Vostii says, shifting and planting his feet on the floor.

“I know. It’s a good, strong name.”

Grabbing Kiiv’s wrist, Darvo pulls him to his feet with ease. Kiiv looks up at the towering man, his snout pointing downward in instinctive submission to the alpha male of the house.

“You’re just a boy, yourself! How old are you, Kiiv?”

“Sixteen.”

“Now I feel bad for being so scary! Hahaha!” Darvo unleashes a deep, bellowing laugh.

“Heh...”

The fox boy follows the burly human out of the room and into a central area, which serves as both the living area and dining room. All other chambers branch off from this one, square room. Darvo points to a chair, which Kiiv promptly claims.

“Hi, Kiva! So, can he stay?!” Josa exclaims and then turns to his parents.

“Yes. He can stay. I’ll prepare the storage room for him after supper.” Darvo replies.

“Yay!” Josa leans over and hugs the startled Vostii.

“Who were [the] others? Vostii and Korutan.” Kiiv asks, his hands raised as Josa clings to his chest.

“You mean the strong ones?” Darvo smirks.

“Yes.”

“They belong to our neighbor. They’re very protective of the village, very wary of outsiders.” Sarai says, first handing him a bundle of clothes and then pouring Kiiv a bowl of stew.

“I see...”

Darvo is a man of his word, and with a considerable effort and some help from Kiiv, he clears out a storage room and sets up a cot, assuring him that he’ll have a proper bed soon enough. Kiiv spends the rest of the day spending time with Josa, under the ever watchful eye of Sarai, who clearly doubts the intuition of her husband and the family dog. By the end of the day Josa still has energy to spare, eager to play with his figurines of soldiers, but his parents are insistent. Kiiv doesn’t argue, thankful for a moment of peace. Once Josa is put to bed, Roda sleeping at the boy’s side, Sarai and Darvo show Kiiv to his room.

“You’ve seen our village. How do you like it?” Darvo asks.

“It [is a] beautiful place. I like it very much.” Kiiv replies.

“We know how the beast folk are; their instinctive need for a tribe.” Sarai suddenly remarks.

“Hmm?”

Kiiv furls his brow in confusion. Do they know something that he doesn’t?

“What she means is, you can leave if you wish, but we can and will attempt to draft your papers, if you’d like. However, given the circumstances...” Darvo remarks, showing a hint of pity for the Vostii’s predicament.

“We will do what we can.” Sarai adds.

“Alright.” Kiiv sighs.

Darvo walks across the main room and enters the bed chamber he shares with his wife. Sarai begins to follow him only to stop and look back at Kiiv, who stands in the doorway and looks at the cot.

“I can’t help but notice, you never said ‘thank you.’” Sarai suddenly remarks.

“... Do I belong here?” He asks as he turns to her.

“Why wouldn’t you? ... Goodnight, Kiiv.”

She joins her husband and closes the door.

“Thank you.” The Vostii whispers, a little smile on his face.

With Josa and Roda in one room and the adults in the other, Kiiv is left alone in the house. He glances at all of the property they’ve left out, wondering if he’d be better off alone, but his primal nature surfaces. This is a good village in a beautiful land. This is a chance to belong. Why ruin it with aggression and thievery?! Still, as he sits upon the cot and stretches out, a part of him cannot help but fear that someday this good thing he’s found might come to an abrupt end.

That night, he sleeps as well as he’d slept since months before fleeing the temple. He doesn’t awaken until it’s nearly noon, and is surprised to find the house all but empty. Only Sarai remains, with a simple meal prepared for their houseguest.

“Good morning. Sort of...”

“Hello.” He says, glancing around the room and approaching the dinner table.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Good.” She says as she places a little platter before him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome... So, are you staying?”

“May I?” He asks.

She chuckles, shaking her head. He doesn’t understand why. Is she saying ‘no’ or is she amused that he’d still cast doubt after all they’d said to him? He reaches up a carefully removes the bandage from around his head, only for Sarai to take it from him and set it aside.

“Where [is] everyone?” He asks, nibbling on a piece of dry cheese.

“Darvo is working in the fields, and Josa should be gardening. It’s one of his chores, after I school him in the morning. Darvo taught Roda how to dig so we could plant legumes faster, that way I can spend more time teaching Josa.” She replies.

Without saying another word, Kiiv shovels half the block of cheese into his mouth and walks outside in search of the young boy, carrying a piece of bread and an apple. He eats very quickly, but stops in his tracks as he reaches the edge of the house. About fifty-yards away, he witnesses other children picking on Josa! The larger boys call him names; shrimp, midget and twig are the worst of them. One boy teases him for his distinctive red hair, which he shares with his father, and calls him an apple. They aren’t the most creative or hurtful names Kiiv’s heard, but to a child like Josa, they might as well be fashioned from broken glass and dipped in salt.

“Bark, bark, bark!” Roda barks at the bullies, standing at Josa’s side.

“Will you guys leave me alone?” Josa whimpers, turning away so they don’t see him wiping away a tear.

“Aww, are you crying, little midget?” The largest boy cackles.

“I didn’t know apples could cry!” Another chimes in.

“He’s probably as dumb as one, too.” The third remarks, roughly knocking against Josa’s skull with his knuckles.

Incensed by their callousness, Kiiv tosses the apple core and the leftover piece of bread aside. He walks from the front door and storms up to the group of boys, gritting his teeth. His paw-like feet carry him almost silently; Josa certainly doesn’t notice. The boys become quiet at the sight of the teenage Vostii, whom they’ve never seen before. Without uttering a single word, Kiiv flashes his sharp teeth and holds up a clawed finger. He waves it from side to side in silent condemnation.

“Wh-who’s that?” One boy asks, staring at Kiiv’s clawed fingers, which he now waves like many little swords.

Kiiv draws a claw over his throat whilst narrowing his fiery eyes, causing the children to take a step back.

“Huh? Oh, this is Ki-... Guys?” Josa turns to see no one. “Hey! Where’d they go?!”

“Late for lunch?” Kiiv shrugs.

“It’s too early!”

“The tall one [is] very fatty.” Kiiv smirks.

Placing a hand on Josa’s shoulder, Kiiv asks him to show him the garden. As they turn, Kiiv notices the bear woman, standing near the forest and holding an axe with a pendulum shaped blade. Her master stands nearby, carrying bundles of firewood. She looks the teenager up and down and smirks; she’d been watching him intimidating the bullies as he stood behind Josa. With a pat on the back, Kiiv challenges Josa and Roda to an impromptu race, which he somehow loses despite being taller and naturally faster than a human. The rest of the day is much like that morning, helping Josa with his chores and learning the ins and outs of village life.

By the end of the day, Darvo returns with bedding and a simple frame and builds Kiiv’s bed for him. As he’s technically an escapee and therefore belongs to The Order, Darvo doesn’t initially draft papers of ownership for Kiiv, merely giving him a collar with a blank tag as subterfuge. He promises to do better for him, soon. Josa and his family are astonishingly accommodating, and within a month’s time, Kiiv not only recovers from his ordeal in the wilderness, growing healthy and strong, but begins to feel truly at home.

He accepts more chores quite willingly, follows Darvo to his work from time to time and spends the evenings keeping an eye on Josa, who’s clearly developed a deep affection for him. The innocence of a child is worth protecting, and Kiiv takes this job particularly seriously. Realizing that their favorite victim has a frightening new bodyguard, the bullies leave him be. Josa seemed much happier with Kiiv around; Darvo and Sarai said as much. Kiiv was also doing quite well. He didn’t have a care in the world, until one fateful day...

“Do you see him?” One soldier asks another.

“If he made it this far, I’d be quite impressed.”

“Never underestimate the beast folk. They are superior to us in every way except for our minds.” A man in black and purple trimmed robes replies.

“You act like this Vostii is dangerous. He’s still but a boy.”

“Boy or not, he is of the beast folk. The world is harsh and full of dangers; he could’ve adapted.”

“Are you certain, sir?” The doubting soldier asks.

“Stop questioning a vicar!” The other snaps.

“I’m only an acolyte-clergyman.”

“Oh... Stop question a-! ...” The soldier pauses to look at their leader.

“An acolyte-clergyman.” He sighs.

“Yeah, that! Stop that!”

The acolyte chuckles and shakes his head, entering the little village in the beautiful, rural landscape. A very tall and burly man toils in a field nearby, using a scythe to slash wheat. He works alongside a few other men and a handful of beast folk, all of them wearing their collars and tags.

“Well, hello! We don’t see many visitors here! If I remember correctly, those are the robes of an acolyte of The Order?” The burly man clarifies.

“They are.” The acolyte nods.

“What brings a clergyman of The Order out here? Looking for a place to build a new temple?”

“Not quite...” A soldier sternly replies.

“We’re looking for someone... A beast man... Well, boy.” The acolyte begins. “He may have come through here.”

“Oh?”

“A Vostii of the fox-kin.”

“... Never seen him...”

“Who said it was a ‘him’?” A soldier narrows his eyes.

“Figure of speech. Everyone’s a ‘him’ until I know who we’re talking about.” The burly man gruffly replies.

“May I ask your name, good sir?” The acolyte speaks quite gently.

“Darvo.”

“A good strong name, befitting of a warrior. Are you a warrior, Darvo?” The acolyte asks.

“Are we out making friends or do you have something to say?” Darvo impatiently snaps.

“Fair enough, Darvo... It is a ‘him’, and we’d like him back. Have you seen him?”

“About this tall, long yellow hair, healthy but not very strong looking, with blue eyes.” The meaner soldier interjects.

“What did he do?” Darvo’s brow furls with concern.

“Nothing! It’s just that...” The acolyte pauses.

“Just what?” Darvo asks, leaning against his scythe.

“He was always a rebellious sort... He... Never did appreciate our methods of training. A wild soul, you could say.”

“Huh?!” Darvo tries not to laugh.

“We aren’t certain if he’s prepared for the realities outside of the temple walls. Our world isn’t exactly everything they’re hoping for, you understand.” The acolyte continues.

“Nobody and nothing is perfect... You ever think that locking up the beast folk like they’re monsters is part of the problem? They seem perfectly fine.” Darvo remarks, motioning with his head toward the beast folk workers behind him.

“They’ve adjusted... They know our ways.”

“Well, I still haven’t seen any strange Vos-”

“Look!” A soldier points.

Walking around a corner with Kiiv by his side, Josa throws a stick for Roda to fetch. They’re returning from the orchard, baskets of apples in their hands. Kiiv stops and stares at they soldiers who stare back. The Vostii with long, yellow hair and deep blue eyes is the very same they’ve been searching for. He wears a collar and tag, but without papers to match, they could be fake. A gust of wind flutters Kiiv’s thick and wavy ponytail, as if to call him out for the soldiers. They menacingly draw their swords. Meanwhile, the acolyte raises an eyebrow and looks to Darvo.

“You were saying?”

“Stop! Wait...” Darvo steps between them, drawing the attention of all of the workers, human and beast folk alike. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I’m afraid I do. Please, stand aside.”

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard me...” Darvo growls.

“Why are you protecting a stray?” A soldier asks, his sword raised and another hand reaching for his crossbow pistol.

“Kiiv isn’t a stray anymore. He lives with me, with my family. He helps care for my son.” Darvo points at Josa, who stands and watches the group like a startled deer.

“We only fear for your son’s safety, good sir.” The acolyte warns.

“Look at me...” Darvo smirks. “Do you not think I could handle Kiiv myself if it came to that?”

“He has a point.” One soldier whispers to the other, glancing over Darvo’s muscles.

“I doubt it will, though. Kiiv is a good boy.”

“... And you’re certain he’s adjusted?” The acolyte asks.

“Kiiv works hard and he’s protective of my son, Josa. Josa really loves Kiiv. He even calls him ‘Kiva.’”

“Heh... Cute.” The acolyte cannot help but grin.

“You did a good job.” Darvo insists.

“... And when he’s ready to take a mate? What then? Will you guard your wife, night and day?”

“There’s a women’s temple not far... I’m certain there’s a beast woman you’ve trained who could use a good home.”

The acolyte watches Kiiv for a moment, staring at him, sizing him up. He looks to Darvo and the crew standing behind him. They show genuine concern. With a little sigh, he turns to the soldiers and waves a hand. They sheath their swords and keep their hands away from their crossbow pistols, which dangle from oval clips on their belts.

“It’s good to know that Kiiv is doing well, and that he found a good place with good people. Adonai has blessed him.”

“So, does that mean...?”

Reaching into a satchel hanging over a shoulder, the acolyte-clergyman removes a piece of paper.

“May I assume that you’re learned?”

“I am.”

“Then you know what this says.” He presents the parchment to Darvo.

Darvo reads the paper for a moment, smiles and folds it before slipping it into a pocket.

“Thank you.”

“No. Thank you.” The acolyte bows his head in respect.

He turns to Kiiv and Josa and raises a hand as if to wave, though he doesn’t. Without saying a word, he motions with the same hand and turns to leave, taking the soldiers with him. Kiiv’s heart soars.

“Kiva? Who were those people?” Josa asks, looking up at the smiling Vostii.

“Old friends.”

“Did you want to see them?”

“No...” He shakes his head and looks to Josa. “We still must go fishing, remember?”

Josa smiles his big, innocent smile and hugs the Vostii. Setting the baskets of apples where they belong, Kiiv and Josa and Roda make their way back to the lake where they first met. They sit upon the shore, casting lines and watching the sun as it creeps toward the horizon. With Kiiv accompanying him, Darvo and Sarai no longer fear losing their son to the beasts of the dark, though they still prefer them being home before they light any candles. Josa’s line begins to sway and Kiiv helps him pull it in, all while coaching him and praising his skill.

“Look, Kiva! I got one!” Josa chirps.

“I see! It [is] very big!” Kiiv remarks.

He removes the hook and places the wriggling fish into a new basket, then attaches more bait for Josa to cast. Josa watches him intently, and as soon as he finishes Josa throws his arms around Kiiv and embraces him.

“This [is] not how you fish. Hold with both hands.” Kiiv remarks, arms raised and holding Josa’s fishing rod.

“I always wanted a big brother. I used to pray every day for one. It’s been so nice since I found you.”

“...”

          “Can you be my big brother?”

Kiiv doesn’t know what to say. Happy tears blur his vision as he sets the fishing rod aside, placing his arms around the boy.

“Of course.” He finally replies.

“I love you, big brother.” Josa gives him a squeeze.

“I love you, too, little brother.” Kiiv replies, resting his chin atop Josa’s head. “Talking scares [the] fish.”

“Oops! Sorry!”

“It [is] alright.” Kiiv replies with a little smile, presenting him with his fishing rod. “There will always be more fish. There will never be another today.”