Amethyst

Chapter 19. Still Wild. Still Alert

Chapter 19. Still Wild. Still Alert.

  Without looking out into the door, which would eventually lead one to the central area of the temple (near to the ascension stairs), it would not be clear to which time of day it was. The same faint glow stones used within the City below, were exquisitely and artistically placed, with etchings in great detail haloing them, dotted around the stables. Though it made the light in the jackguar stables, it was that of a soft and dimmer light. Providing a more tranquil atmosphere, however, those glow stones used were notably, slightly dimmer than those used on the ornately carved streets, walkways and passageways, of the Opal City.  For only a brief a moment I considered if this was to calm and settle the jackguars. Nodding as I noted the sleeping grunts, snores and heavy breathing coming from the handful of snouts around me, I accepted this to be the case. Thinking no more on it. As it seemed that this would likely be the most sensible reasoning.

  It was uncertain just how much time had passed since having asked the, Lore and Beast, scroll about a creature the Elder High Sage had mentioned the Drellamon people had. Likening them to Medurians’ relationship to Goldhorns’ and Jackguars’. The disgust and loathing of these people by the Opal Elder High Sage wouldn’t have been initially clear to anyone.  Yet having thought about it; with movements more paced, paused and thoughtful and her words seemingly more calculating and remorseful… at one point I had been absolutely certain she had been reminicant about past encounters with the expression her face had worn, even though it was for a swift and, yet, fleeting moment.  

  This Scroll of Lore and Beasts, was on a light brassy scroll. It’s metal was comparatively lighter than that of the Map Scroll. Not only that, but the metal on the former was more copper than gold. It even seemed to have newer parchment paper, than the Map Scroll. 

  From this noted consideration, it could not be helped as I began to wonder if I had been given a scroll which had already been darkened and tinted by daylight. It was said that this could and often did happen to them – as Meduria was a desert nation, and all Medurian’s began their passage from their respective cities this was to be expected.

  Glancing towards the tanner parchment paper on the Map Scroll, my mind wondered. Is this a scroll that has already been used by someone on their passage? The more I thought, the more it seemed to make sense and my reflections stayed on that trajectory of reasoning, If this is the case that would mean that this is a scroll that was returned after someone had completed their Passage. If this person could go out, survive and return then… surely, so can I. This resolve helped combat the true terror that had taken residence in some corner within the pit of my stomach.

  There are Medurian’s that come back. I. Will. Be. One. Of. Those. Veiled with an iron clad determination, my confidence was settled and emboldened.

  Both of the two scrolls had been enchanted by special blessings’ each. Given by the Old Sage Sisters of the Opal City’s “Glittering Cathedral” on behalf of the Earthen Goddess herself.  The Scroll of Lore and Beasts, had an enchanted blessing, embowing it with all the collective knowledge available from every library within the 12 Cities of Meduria, for any Medurian wielding it to call on it’s abilities to seek knowledge and information about cultures and… really, any living creature… However, the thought of asking about Skeeters appeared and caused a shudder to ripple though my body. The very thought of them creeped me out. I hoped to never have to encounter them and had even sat coming up with plans on how to avoid them while heading south. Alongside what would be do if we ever came across any in the wild.

   Viewing what the Skeeters had looked like and reading the information and… lore about them provided by the scroll. This was right before my Passage began and this information had been very altering in my perceptions’ and attitude of just how dangerous the world above the 12 Cities was.

   As I stood up, for that very moment I couldn’t feel my legs. They buckled, giving way beneath me.

“Ahhh!” The yell that left my lungs could not have been helped.  It startled all of the jackguars’, all of whom, only moments earlier were fast asleep and snoring with rest to their hearts content; two snarled after being jostled awake, one growled while yet another whimpered while scratching at the bottom of their stable door.  

   Having sat in the position, dazed in contemplation for so long, my legs had fallen asleep!

  Only two could stick their heads out with the top door to its stable being opened; Citrine being one of them. His long and large golden-haired ears twitched alert and focused on surveying and observing. As he stood on his hind legs with his front paws comfortably atop the bottom stable door: This showed off his size considerably in comparison to the other more notably domesticated jackguar who, only just managed to, peer its, dull ashen fur, head over. It’s ears were even far less alert than Citrine’s were, with one completely dropped down, resting on the top, of the bottom stable, door.  A jackguar with drooping ears was one experiencing comfort - Citrine's response was akin to a reaction to danger. A premonition flashed while I took in his reaction; he would be the reason I survived my Passage. His wild, alert and responsive reactions would be what would save me. Where a domesticated, bred, smaller and weaker jackguar would mean certain death, within those same situations. Given their dulled sense of danger and alertness... their slowed responses.

Citrine was wild.

This comparative realization dawned on me. That was why the Earthen Goddess had specified him, had chosen him, even given him a namesake.

He was still wild. Which meant he was still alert.

  In several ways this comforted my anxiety about going south with him, and encountering such creatures like the Drellamon’s skeeters. As a cub be had been taken from the wild. It was known by all Medurian’s that wild cubs, no matter how they were raised, could never truly have the wilderness trained out of them. He still holds the wilderness… He still holds a sense of danger and alertness that the others do not. As my legs gained feeling in them once more, I recovered from my fall as I considered this. Attempting to clap my hands to get some dirt off. My wrist stung a little from the impact but it wasn’t wholly terrible. Perhaps by giving me Citrine the Earthen Goddess is ensuring my survival… ensuring I return to Turquoise. At this my heart was elated and a smile began to sprout across my face.  

  “Young Amethyst?!” An older voice, hoarse from a lack of breath called out. A woman with greying hair held several old braided weaves, beaded with drops of her birthstone, “What has happened?? Is everything alright?!”

  It was quite stunning on her, and despite her age gave her an old and ethereal beauty. It was only the elongated fingers of the Old Sister Sages’ that gave me a queasy feeling. They always had. Even as someone who had long been earmarked by Overseer Rose, as a brilliant etcher… as a passionate etcher I could understand the eternally intrinsic uses for having every dexterous finger become a tool. Even so, I wasn’t sure it was ever enough of a reasoning to ever convince, even me, that it was worth it.

 Quickly turning my attention to the entry door to the stables, the Aquamarine Sage stood, “I…I’m fine. My legs had fallen asleep and without realising this, it caused me to take a fall. It just caught me off guard.” I looked around and added with a smirk and bit of humour, “It caught the jackguars off guard as well!”

   The Sage chuckled somewhat, before walking in.  As she did she looked from me; leaning on the post at the end which adjoined onto Citrine’s stable. Her expression calmed to that usual default unreadable stoic all old Sage Sister had, “What are you still doing in here?” Her eyes widened a little momentarily as she looked over to really take this jackguars’ size in. With a slight gasp, she muttered, “He came to us as a wild cub… but his size… your passage mount is really an impressive one. A demonstration to his species… despite his unruly and reluctant behaviour.” more to herself than me, however I heard it anyway.

  Having claimed my balance and sense of equilibrium I began picking up the scrolls. Firstly, the Map Scroll, which already had its light parchment paper rolled up. Responding to the Aquamarine Sage, I looked over to her. “I had been in here bonding with Citrine,” at her unreadable countenance I provided a further clarified, “That is the name the Earthen Goddess gave him, as she told me the mount I was to take to find the Savannah.”  

  She muttered an audible, “ah.” Continuing to walk over, "Yes, the Earthen Mother instructed you to find the Savannah," the Sage's steps continuing until being… perhaps, only two to three steps away from my side. Her eyes, the colour of her birthstone due to the process of becoming a sage, reading my expression as if etches in one of the old tablets.

   “It seemed like preparation and planning was a good use of my time. Especially since it was said that Citrine is rather… wild by nature. The Opal Elder High Sage delivered the scrolls for my journey to me. She explained that you were helping Chalcedony with the process of beginning to elongate her fingers and shape them into the tools you Sages use. I hope it went well for her…” This was babbling, however the curiosity about this topic was one that wasn’t easily stated, as not much was known about it – unless you became an Old Sister Sage yourself! “… Does the process of extending one’s fingers into tools hurt?” At this question, my own eyes dropped to my fingers. As I stretched both of my palms out In front of me.

  The lingering gaze of Aquamarine Sage never left. Her expression softened a little, “It went as well as can be expected. It is intriguing that you ask of Chalcedony's success in the process of elongating. As drawn out as our fingertips, it is a process that takes time and many, many sessions. However, as of what I am permitted to tell you... that is all."

Shifting her weight by taking two steps towards Citrine, her change in topic was instant and noticeable. To the point that one could get the impression that the previous topic had made her uncomfortable, "It is me whom is charged with the care and breeding of our jackguars and goldhorns for mounts and Passage,” at the latter she gestured to the other side of the Cathedral, as I knew they kept both very separate for good reason, in that one was the other’s prey, “both are a true passion of mine. Ensuring the best temperaments' for those Medurian's needing them. Especially those who have never been on the surface before." She took one last step closer to my mount who's coat seemed gilded with material of his namesake, "Several times I’ve had offered to send this one away, due to his extremely difficult nature.” Turning to look at Citrine, the Sage’s eyes turned cold and conflicting. 

  The jackguar let out a vicious warning growl, which quickly turned into a snarl. Quickly he tried to lower his head to bite, his muzzle scrunched dangerously, revealing two large razor sharp incisors at each side of his upper jaw. Just as he was about to bite, the squeaking screech of leather rang out, with the sound of buckles tightening – the reign tied to somewhere within his stall tugging sharply against that which connected to the black leather bridle which complemented his gilded complexion.  Causing his head to immediately and forcibly be brought round to the side. It has used his own force against him to stop his attack. He briefly whimpered, before continuing to snarl audiably with his head and muzzle now pressed against the wall of his stall.

  With such a reaction contrasting all the behaviour I had seen from him up until this point.  Subconsciously I wondered about this Old Sage, with his altering temperance to one with such a… resentful fervour.  I was stunned and as equally concerned about his reaction. Having bonded with him over the last several hours, I could fell his emotions clearly: resentment, hostility, loathing… deep loathing, for this Old Sage.

  The cold appearance of the Old Sage left entirely once returning to meet my eyes again, “There was something telling me to persevere with him. You confirmed this, by your Passage. The vision you told of? That which you experienced during your Merging ceremony… it was the Goddess’ will that he stayed!” Lacing her fingers together, her animated expression suddenly erupting with a joy. “I believe that there is something very special in store for you. The Earthen Mother does not give a mount a namesake for many reasons. In our history, there have only been a handful.”

   While the Aquamerine Sage was speaking, those duller and more docile jackguars with grey coats, who were in their respective stables, which had their top door closed had by now realised that there was no more fuss. No longer startled, or holding any further to continue investigating or remaining alert in any way, after my outburst had been the cause of their initial disturbance. 

  These grey jackguars’ had all been captive bread by the Sister Sage’s of the Opal Cathedral, mainly for Medurian’s choice of mount for their Passage after Ascension to the Cathedral for the very first time, and Merging with their namesake birthstone.  The top stable doors all had barred windows so the other grey jackguars’ contented with looking out for varying amounts of time. Before audibly plopping back down and returning to sleep.

  The Aquamarine Sage then shifted as she looked around the room. Halting at the observation as her eyes landed on the Scroll of Beasts and Lore. It was still open at the skeeter information, previously asked of it. At this sight, the countenance of the Old Sage changed. Growing dark initially, before the hint of a cruel smile flashed across her face before dissipating as quickly as it had appeared.

“Skeeters?” She inquired, briefly licking her thin old lips, in an indescribably neutral tone. Aquamarine eyes, fixed to the page. "What interest do you have with beast such as skeeters?"