Jade: The Hybrid Mage

Chapter 17: The Oldlings

Moments later, I managed to get a thorn through my foot and a bee sting on my arm before I spotted twinkling lights in the distance.

I limped toward the glow, my body aching, until I came before a high wall made of bamboos. Twisting vines and leaves curled around the structure, blending it seamlessly into the forest.

‘Maybe they use it to lure creatures away,’ I guessed.

“Let me in! The kid you sent to welcome New Comers left me to die! Gib is his name!” I shouted, hoping someone would hear.

“And you are?” a woman’s authoritative voice called down from above.

“I’m—” I hesitated, my thoughts racing.

“Yes! I didn’t quite get that! You’ll have to speak up!”

“I’m Jade . . . Jade Ishola!” I finally said, thinking, 'What’s the point of lying now?'

“Welcome to the Family, Jade,” the woman said. Seven columns of bamboos raised, creating a passage through the wall. “He was meant to leave you alone in the forest. We can’t afford to have anyone weak among us again.”

:~*~:

Inside, the settlement bustled with activity. Mud-brick huts sat neatly arranged, glowing kerosene lamps hanging from wooden posts.

Now I was inside the Village Chief’s hut. It sat at the far end of the village, its grand structure impossible to miss. The pillars were made of bones, the roof stretched with what looked like dried skin.

‘Why are they so barbaric?’ I thought, my eyes scanning the unsettling details.

“So, what business do you have with the mole-beast, young lady?” the Village Chief asked, his voice slow and measured. He chewed on a small stick, his gnarled fingers tapping rhythmically on the human skull mounted atop his staff. His shoulders were hunched, even while he sat, but his presence was anything but frail.

‘Why would they call you here immediately?’ Naila asked. ‘I don’t think you should tell him, Jade.’

Blooby followed closely, his copper frame a constant shadow at my side. The Oldlings in the hut shot him looks of disgust, their faces contorting as though he were something unholy.

“I’m his sister,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Kema Thorne has a sister?” an Oldling scoffed from a low stool in the corner. The kerosene lamp above her head cast long shadows on the mud walls. “Do you take us for fools? You have our eyes, girl, but you are not one of us. Neither are you any sister of that mole-beast,” she hissed.

“I was born with these eyes,” I said, meeting her gaze. “Why I have them is a question I’ve asked myself many times. Maybe I can get that answer here.”

“The harsh conditions around us mutate our vision,” she replied, her tone sharp. “We see clearly through the fogs, and I’m sure you had difficulty at first . . . but is that the case now?”

She wasn’t wrong. At first, the fog had seemed impenetrable, but now it felt nonexistent.

“You’ve adapted quickly,” she continued, her eyes narrowing. “Which means one of two things: either both your parents were from Kreel, or you’re the product of the Capital City’s experiments. Maybe that’s why the mole-beast wants you.”

‘I can swear I’m no experiment of the Capital City,’ I thought. ‘Does this mean my mother, whom I’ve never met, is likely from Kreel?’

Naila stayed silent, offering no insight.

“I don’t know why the Watcher wants me,” I said aloud. “All I know is he saved my life and asked me to come to the Sky Border, as I’ll always be discriminated against for my eyes.”

The Chief’s eyes glinted with something unreadable as he spoke. “Some words are lies, and some words are truth. That’s okay. One of our skilled hunters will escort you to the Sky Border by morning. For now, you are welcome to join us for our sacred festival.”

:~*~:

The Camp Fire Festival was like nothing I’d ever seen. Instead of revering the Great Gods, as I’d been taught, the people of Kreel gave thanks to the Elements and the Divine Spirits.

Oldlings—those who had lived in Kreel for over forty years—led the rituals. Their chants echoed through the night as flames from the central bonfire licked the starless sky.

I sat alone at the edge of the gathering, trying to make sense of everything, when Gib appeared, sitting beside me without a word.

“You survived, huh?” he finally said, his voice flat.

“Do I look soft to you?” I shot back. He just stared at me, saying nothing, his silence cutting deeper than words.

“You leave tomorrow,” he said, drawing strange patterns in the dirt with a stick. His face was unreadable, but something about him seemed . . . lonely.

“Hopefully,” I replied.

“Good.” He stood abruptly, his movements stiff. “That’s good.”

“Wait . . . Gib—” I started, but he was already gone.

‘He wants us around,’ Naila murmured. ‘Is he that lonely among his people?’

My chest ached for the boy, though I didn’t fully understand why.