Crimson chorus from the.., p.13
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       Crimson Chorus, From the Nine Kingdoms (Chapter 2), p.13

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  It was the 3rd golden-hour and the merchants were busy with clients, although one of them remarkably was preparing to leave.

  “It was a good crop. Wasn’t, chief?”

  “The luck always travels with us ...” Responded the chief merchant, his name was Somaan who dedicated to trade with bottles made of crystal. “We’ve been blessed by our respected deity. I would’ve to do an offering in the temple.”

  “Right, that would be good; you should do it chief,” said the assistant, named Barregee, encouraging him.

  “I’ll do it ...” added chief Somaan condescendingly, while was separating a copprou’s bag. “That’s what I’ll do.”

  “Why don’t you ask Haagar to do it?”

  “Haagar? No. I’ll care personally to deliver it. While that, you take care of the last chores here ... By the way, where did he hide now?”

  “I don’t now chief.”

  “Again ...”

  “Do you want me to look for him?”

  “No! I’ll do it. He must listen, and obey; it’s for his own well ...”

  “Chief, look, there’s comes Beferio,” said Barregee interrupting and pointing to a guide-being who was approaching.

  “What’s up?” asked Beferio, noticing the alerting of both.

  “Haagar again ...” said Barregee. “You would have to help to find him.”

  “It’s not necessary,” responded Beferio securely. “He’s sleeping under the wagon.”


  “What, Again?!” exclaimed chief Somaan while was walking towards the indicated place.

  A scrawny younger was napping peacefully under a wagon, and seemed to be imitating the skareelo that also was resting next to him. The chief had founded him, and immediately approached to him while was preparing the volume of his voice for the scolding.

  “Haagar, stand up!” the screaming was caused the skareelo stand up immediately, and the younger wake up from his nap but unwilling to do it.

  “I’m going, I’m going ...” answered the young while was crawling to go out from his hideout. “What’s up chief ...?”

  “What’s up?!”

  “You look irritated ...”

  “Of course I am!”

  “Any problem with a customer ...?”

  “Your attitude’s the reason why I’m like this! We’ve finished with our crop, and you should’ve helped us but didn’t. You were here all the time, sleeping, without deigning to attend. That’s what’s up!”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry ... I was, tired ...” said the younger excusing him.

  “Tired?! If you spend resting ... AGH! Enough! I won’t continue arguing. You’ll accompany me to the temple,” said chief Somaan as an order.

  “To the temple, why?”

  “How many times I must repeat you that you mustn’t question my decisions? You must just follow me and learn everything that comes from them; that what’s the experience. How many times I have to explain you, Haagar?” said chief Somaan seriously.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah ... I got it. I won’t do it again.”

  “Your inexperience does you to be imprudent, neither must use vain promises. Haagar ... just follow me ...” finished chief Somaan defeated.

  Both went towards the teradreean temple located in the west neighborhood. They crossed the east plaza and then for the central plaza. During the trip, Haagar was observing to the people trading but with some repudiation, something inside him didn’t tolerate those shows that repeated them every step he took, as if he was watching the same event over and over again. It caused him anxiety.

  Finally they arrived at the temple. There were people going in and out from the place, and inside some other were giving bags with copprou’s directly to the priest, who thanked them as a blessing gift in the name of the deity Teradree. The priest possessed the will-luck to do so because the deity had created him to do such task; he let them a bit of the sandeans luck but too much. They waited while the line of petitions advanced.

  “Merchant Somaan, hurry to leave or are being greedy?” asked the priest after see him arriving with Haagar.

  “It isn’t greed, respected priest. It’s gratitude. We’ve finished soon our crop thanks to our respected deity, that’s why I returned to greet her,” explained Somaan and gave him the copprou’s.

  “Are you sure that it is the hand of our deity and not the help of your new assistant?”

  “I’d like to think that it’s, but ... Haagar go to our appreciated deity statue and thanks for our gathering trip. Go, but don’t go away ...”

  Haagar had stood front the statue, and from that position, away from his mentor and the priest, observed the conversation between them; occasionally, chief Somaan watched him to make sure he was doing what he had ordered. He started to mumble intelligible words, wasn’t saying nothing and just pretending.

  “So, that is how you pray the deity?”

  A young sandean-female who had stood next to him, surprised with such question. Haagar looked at her, focusing all his attention.

  “You do not show respect in your words,” continued the female, “You thing that way she will bless you?”

  “It’s just a statue,” answered Haagar intrigued.

  “It is a statue that represents the deity.”

  Haagar observed the statue that wasn’t masculine form neither feminine but a mixture of both, and reflexed an expression ethereal, oblivious to any feeling.

  “I suppose you are right ...” answered Haagar condescendingly. “Although ... how can they be sure that this is her right look?”


  “There is a phrase that says: the deities always presents before their heirs, at least on time,” cited the female.

  “And who did say that phrase? It doesn’t reveal me anything. Have those who already met her said that she’s like this?”

  “One day you will meet the deity.”

  “And did you already meet her?”


  “Maybe ...?”

  “The truth is that nobody knows when they do it. She manifested in different ways. That is why the statue is the most resembling to her aspect.”

  “Could it be the statue? I go it ...”

  “If you managed to recognize her in the meet, what would you do?”

  “Well ... I would ask her why I was created to be a sandean but I’m not motivated to be it,” answered Haagar seriously, as if he said it to the statue.

  “That is meaningful.”

  “Haagar!” called chief Somaan from the other side.

  “I must go ...” said Haagar slightly disappointed, and he left.

  “Good luck,” added the female after seeing him leave.

  The chief Somaan and Haagar left the temple, saying goodbye to the priest. They went through the city again and returned to the wagon. Beferio and Barregee were waiting in the vehicle, ready to go.

  They headed north; the wagon was at full speed.

  “Look, that place was where you fall. Do you remember, Haagar?” said Barregee to his sandean bro, pointing to a part of the desert.

  “Yes ... thanks for remember me ...” responded Haagar slightly interest.

  “You must never forget your genesis place ...”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah ...” babbled Haagar.


  “That’s what remembers you who you are,” continued Barregee in a fatherly voice. “You were created to be a sandean, to be a merchant ...”

  “BAH! Who wants to be a merchant ...” babbled Haagar.

  “Someday you’ll replace me as I’ll do our chief mentor. So you must start by leaving your inexperience behind.”

  “What’s worthy about being a merchant?”

  “There’s a lot of worthy things. The most worthy is the luck, our characteristic-being; always is with us. It’s the font that feeds our natural-art, and what does that the other races to wish dominate it to perfection. Few learn it but not as the sandean only can do it,” explain Bar
regee proudly.

  “Beferio ...?” called Haagar to his companion guide. “Had you liked to be a merchant instead of a guide?”

  “Nay,” responded Beferio droughty.

  “Do you got it?!”

  “HAHAHA, Beferio ... Thanks to aid me in encourage him,” said Barregee, scolding the guide. “Besides, you have asked the wrong one. All guides are free will, like the wind, because for that they were created. That’s why it’s strange to see a guide-being imitating the behavior of a sandean.”

  “Well also I want to be free like a guide-being!”

  “Free? And, to where would you go?”

  “I dunno ... far ... maybe, I would cross the north mountains ... would cross the lands of the Anterior Scratch, or would navigate across the seas of the Posterior Scratch ... I dunno ...”

  “Your inexperience’s talking for you, young sandean,” said Beferio seriously. “To travel on those places you need to be prepared; dominate arts that help to survive in those territories; arts that a sandean don’t dominate, neither cannot dominate.” He did an inspirational pause. “The goldeagle flies the warm air of the desert, and the silvhawk flies the cold air, because for that they were designed, to watch it. Skareelo’s protect the mountains while the colorful bronmount’s decorate it. As well as beasts understand their purpose, you that had been dotted with more wisdom would do it. This’s your land, so you must adapt to it.”

  “Thanks Beferio for your wise words,” added Barregee. “Now, do you understand, Haagar? There’s nothing wrong to be who you must be: a sandean, a merchant.”

  Haagar remained in silence, thinking the words of his buddies.

  They crossed the North Sand Sea, and stopped at the Cristal Reef because the skareelos didn’t like to cross through that place. It was because they didn’t like to see their own reflection in the crystal sculptures that disoriented and confused them. The three sandeans descended from the vehicle while the guide stayed.

  During the crusade of the reef, Haagar dedicated to observe his own reflection in the crystals. It was the third time he visited that place and took advantage to look him for third time but as if it was the first. His young face had reflected the inexperience that often was criticized by his two companions and his mentor. His vestment was the only thing seemed to wear out, comparing it with the other visits; but in his face didn’t found any change, and this was frustrated him.

  As they advanced, Barregee was droving Haagar so that he wouldn’t be lost in the crystalline rocks. They zigzagged, after finally arrived at the Town of the Strong-beings. They didn’t loss time and headed to the artisans neighborhood, to the hose of the artisan who made the crystal bottles and with who they had a trading covenant. The strong-beings were beings who appreciated a lot their fabrics and didn’t pact with anyone.

  In their trajectory, Haagar decided to separate to explore, with the permission of his mentor who thought it was another excuse from him to go to rest; conditioning him to no deviate beyond the neighborhood. Because it was the first time his mentor allowed him to separate in that town, Haagar decided to visit the homes of the artisans. Since the second visit he had felt attracted by the way in that the strong-beings manifested theirs manufacturing arts, desiring to know it meticulously.

  While he was walking, amusing, saw how the artisans made delicately and inquisitorial ability theirs crafts; especially, one of them who delicately sit over his legs flexed, was extracting patiently a fine line crystalline from a stone of equal hue, for next roll it up in a small wand, also of crystal.

  “EY, strong?” said Haagar interrupting recklessly. “How do you do that?”

  “DO you refer to made thread crystal?”

  “To made thread crystal ... yes.”

  “Had you never seen my art?”

  “Sincerely, no, even it isn’t the first time I come to this place.”

  “Well, you must know that here we all dominate arts related to the manufactured of crystal object. So if you come often, do not doubt in look around.”

  “Aye, it’s sound interesting. You also made the bottles that we trade.”

  “Trade ... of course but, I don’t.”

  “If we knew how to make them, it would ease us the trading. We wouldn’t have to travel the Sand Sea. We could establish in the city ...”

  “Your idea is good, and your intention for prosper in your art, greedy. You talk as if you were interested in learning our art. Also it seems to me a mistaken idea.”

  “Mistaken? Want to learn a new art?”

  “A sandean wanting to dominate the art of the strong-beings ...?”

  “Could you teach me? I want to learn!”

  In that moment, chief Somaan had arrived discretely.

  “One thing is to desire and other to be able. Do you thing you can be able?”

  “For sure!”

  “Don’t you promise anything before be sure, Haagar!” said chief Somaan scolding him, and approached.

  “Is it will-desire or stubbornness?” asked the strong.

  “Of course it’s will-desire!” assured Haagar proudly.

  “I doubt it!” added chief Somaan scolding.

  “There is only a way to corroborate it,” said the strong, standing from his position.

  His great size intimated the merchant who rapidly thought he had bothered. The strong took the thread and cut a piece; he showed it to Haagar.

  “Look at this? You know it is called crystal thread. Let us see if you understand why it is so especial.” He shook the thread in the air. “It is tinny and easy.” He took it from both ends and tightened it. “Took it and try to bend it. If you can do it, I will accept your petition about teach you.”

  “That’s easy!” assured Haagar with excess security, and snatched him the thread.

  “So be it,” said the strong and next left, not without before take his finished crafts.

  “Haagar ... you’d better leave that,” said chief Somaan doing a gesture of unbelieving and impatience.

  Haagar tried to bend it, doing pressure in both ends but, he couldn’t because the thread was too resistant. Barregee arrived, holding in his shoulder three sacks with bottles; didn’t dissimulate to see with curiosity to his inexperienced partner trying to bend the thread because he know it that it was impossible since only the strong-beings dedicated to this could.

  “How?! I cannot believe it!” exclaimed Haagar confusing. “It’s so hard! But ... but, second before the strong moved it easily! There must be a trick!”

  “There’s no trick. It’s because the strong dominate the crystal arts,” said chief Somaan.

  “No, no, no ... there must be a trick here ...” said Haagar negating while was studying thoroughly the thread.

  “Don’t be reckless and obey me, young one!”

  “Chief ...” said Barregee calming him, “please, let him to try it. At some point he’ll have to get tired and then he’ll understand.”

  The chief was persuaded by the words of his other assistant, and both decided to leave. Haagar sat down, imitating the position of the strong, and started his will-duel against the thread. He forced it many times, failing. Occasionally, chief Somaan visited the home of the strong to inspect the growing of his disciple, without expecting much from him, also he did it to persuade him, as scolding, to abandon the dumb idea and return to the caravan; his companion assistant also did it, being indirect. But Haagar ignored them because the concentration focused on the thread was higher than in his interest to be a merchant.

  The usual murmur conversations of the strong-beings to the distance had ceased. A deep peace entered in Haagar’s body, letting him to feel the thread. He felt how was bending before him, not to his strength but his will-force. Finally, the thread was slightly bent.

  “I got it!” exclaimed Haagar victorious, “I did it! I did it! Strong, strong, where’re you?!”

  He ran to looking for him who was in the other side of the house, extracting threads.

  “So?!” h
e said showing the bending thread to him, and hurrying him for an answer, “I got it.”

  “May I see it ...” answered the strong little charmed. “You made it.”

  “Now, will you teach me?”

  “I will but, before I want to teach you something else,” said the strong, pausing what was doing. “Could you reach me that crystal over there? Right there, is the oval one.” He pointed an item with oval shape that was decorating on the wall of the house.

  Haagar approached to the indicated item, located at three steps of distance. When he lifted it, he saw his face was reflected in it but, it wasn’t the same young face that had seen days before but a mature face.

  “Who’s ...? It’s ... me?”

  “That is you, the same as always.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “You are not young anymore, now you are a mature-sandean. You have growth.”

  “But, why? If I just stayed a few days ...”

  “Yes, a few days. But in those few days you forced your will to learn knowledge against its nature. To achieve it, you have to sacrifice something that you had left. Not vital-time but youth and inexperience. Sandean ... now you know how to bend crystal threads.”

  “I ... yes ... Now will you teach me your art?!”

  “It seems you have not understood; knowing you have sacrificed your youth for learn how to bend a thread, how much you think you will have to sacrifice for perfect mi art?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t try to change the topic. I fulfilled with my part of the deal, now you fulfill with your part. After all ... I will be the one who will do the sacrifice. Isn’t?”

  “If you want to learn so much mi art then, I will teach you.”


  The old tailor had finished to telling his story to Ephesto.

  “And that was the start of growing my as crystal artisan, the how I become in one.”

  “Your story has touched me. There is so much knowledge in it.”

  “Knowledge ...? Of course not! I was stubborn, actually still I am ... but before I was more. Well, do you understand why I mustn’t teach you my art? You would lose your young-age trying to do so ...”

  “Are you talking about bending a thread?”

  “I could test you but you would have to leave off the idea of be ...”

  Ephesto didn’t wait to the old tailor finish the expression when he took a thread and started to bend without a problem.

  “A military ...”

  The eyes and mouth of the old tailor were wide open.

  “How could you?!”

  “You explained in your tale.”

  “Did I?!”

  “Yes, you said that you focus your will-force in the thread. So that is how I have done it, and it has worked. See? Now I understand why I cannot pluck that spike at that occasion ... I was not about strength but focusing will-force.”

  “Indeed ...?” said the old tailor reassuring from his stupor. “I didn’t imagine that a lodeleean would have such will-force. I have heard that they know to bend the wind will but not as the way as the guides do it ...”

  “I already told you that I am not a lodeleean.”

  “Don’t? Then? For your look neither a sandean ...”

  “I am a crimson-being.”

  “A crimson-being ...? I hadn’t heard about them ... To which kingdom are them?”

  “I suppose to the sandean kingdom, because our genesis was in Carmine Valley, to the north of Emerald Plains.”

  “I got it ... Then, are you a young bore race?”

  “Aye, something like that ...”

  “Well, I don’t know the purpose of our respected deity by creating you but I suppose it must be an important one, seeing that she gave you with the enough wisdom to learn a foreign art so easy; or ... is it that you are special ...?”

  “The truth is, I am unique in my kind.”

  “I got it ... that explains it. Do you dominate another art foreign of yours?”

  “Yes. Among those known here, I know a bit of guide art, the tamer art I just understand, and I still learning the sandean art. But I still do not dominate perfectly.”

  “AHA!” exclaimed the old tailor. “Then that must be an art of yours; the one who made you understand others.”

  “Understand them? Yes, I suppose ... although, my natural art is unknown ...”



  “Do you mean not a noble art, but a forbidden one?”

  Ephesto nodded.

  “I got it ... well, keep it in secret. We don’t want to call attention, isn’t? It wouldn’t be prudent nether wise. Very well, Red, I will teach you my art but you must keep it in secret as well. You mustn’t tell to the general nether the captain, and definitely not any other being from this city. You got it?”

  “I have understood ...”


  This story continues in:

  Crimson Chorus, From the Nine Kingdoms

  Chapter 3

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