Chapter 5: The Megal of the West

When Monowi woke, he found himself lying on a bed. A thin sheet covered him, and the bed itself looked plain, almost ordinary.

He glanced around and realized he was in what resembled an old-fashioned medical facility. The room was quiet, and he appeared to be its only occupant.

When he tried to shift, the bed frame let out a loud creak. Startled, Monowi quickly dropped back down before even attempting to sit up.

A minute or two later, the door opened and a woman entered. She was dressed entirely in white robes, with only her hands and face visible.

She spoke to him, words flowing in the same incomprehensible language he had heard before. Her expression soon softened into sadness, her downturned mouth telling Monowi that she understood what the problem was.

She held out her hands to Monowi, moving them slightly back and forth as if signaling him to wait. He understood the gesture. After giving her a quick glance, he watched as she hurried out of the room.

After sometime when she didn’t return, Monowi stood up but with normal movements this time, so the bed wouldn’t creak again.

Only then did he notice he was dressed in different clothes than before. They were like the clothes that commoners used to wear in the days of old. A rough, full-sleeved shirt woven from coarse thread, and loose trousers of cheap leather tied at the waist with a rope. Although it was comfortable to move around in those clothes, but Monowi’s face was telling the opposite. He didn’t feel at ease in them.

He wasn’t feeling the pain from before, when he was hit by that guard. It was the second time this had happened, after being struck hard, the pain would linger, only to vanish suddenly as though it had never been there at all.

Monowi took a look around, hoping to get something to wear on his feet. After searching here and there, he found nothing, then decided to step out with bare feet.

Just then, the lady from earlier entered, accompanied by a man carrying a peculiar wooden box covered with engravings. The man’s appearance was neat and professional, with an air of someone accomplished in his field, and he wore a pair of unusually large glasses perched on his face.

The man signaled Monowi to sit back on the bed. Unsure of what else to do, Monowi followed the instructions. The man set the wooden box beside him. Now that Monowi had a closer look, he could see it has glass like frame on top of it, with some different colored crystals organized in some sort of pattern inside, clearly visible from the outside.

The man grasped Monowi’s hand and pressed it against the glass surface, and murmured a few words. Suddenly, the crystals inside the wooden box started glowing, and a sharp pain shot through the back of Monowi’s head.

He tried to free himself of the man’s grasp, but the grip was unyielding. Monowi scorched with a sudden violent scream, with other hand behind his head. After some moments, the crystals light faded and Monowi lowered his hand, as if the pain in his head eased. Monowi lowered his hand, his face twitched, then rose abruptly and swung, aiming to punch the man.

Before his fist could land, the man seized both his hands again and said firmly, “Stop, or you’re going to get yourself hurt.”

Monowi froze. His eyes widened as realization struck, he could finally understand the words. The man was speaking his language.

The first question, Monowi asked after all this charade:

“Can you speak my language? Can you tell me where am I?”

The man released Monowi’s hands and placed both palms gently on his shoulders. “Calm yourself,” he said, his voice steady. “First, allow me to introduce myself.”

He then took a step backward and gently bowed his head, and after raising his head he said:

“I am Kybaar the sorcerer, famously known as the Megal of West. I am pleased to make your acquaintance”.

The woman in white, standing just behind him, seemed briefly startled by the exchange. She quickly composed herself and added:
“I am Zani, a healer in this infirmary. It is good to meet you.”

Monowi’s eye widened furhter, his voice stumbling out in disbelief:

“I wasn’t able to understand you a while ago, but now I am getting every word you are speaking. How… how did this happen…”

“Don’t fret, it is because of that wooden box.”, said Kybaar, “You couldn’t understand our language earlier, so I used that box on you, and now you are able to understand what we are saying and we can also understand your language, but that won’t be for long. Once that box turns off, we won’t be able to understand your language, so you should better start speaking our language and use our language to communicate while staying here.”

“What do you mean by I can understand you and will continue to do so even if the box is turned off”, blurted Monowi, “But you won’t be able to understand me”

Kybaar stroked his chin and replied calmly, “The pain you felt was the box infusing your mind with our local language. So, naturally you are able to understand our language as your own, but you are still using your own language to speak.”

Monowi spoke bluntly: “And what is that supposed to mean exactly and how that box is making you understand my language.”

“Well, Mr…”

“Monowi, name is Monowi Moboya”

“Well Mr. Monowi, that device here captures the auras of persons nearby. It has some certain radius on which it acts. Like in your case, it is connected to your aura and specifically transferring all the knowledge regarding our local language from the auras of humans present in its radius to your subconscious.”

“You mean like updating source code without the owner’s permission”

“Sorry, what did you say…”

“Never mind, please carry on”

“Uh… okay.” Kybaar adjusted his tone and continued. “In your case, the box is acting as a medium. It converts your thoughts into our local language as they pass through your aura when you speak, and then disperses them into the air as sound, matching the rhythm of your voice. Meanwhile, your actual voice is silenced automatically by the box. That’s how we’re able to understand you.”

Kybaar paused briefly before adding, “And once the lights in the box will completely die down, you will be able to speak in our language, if you want to do so.”

“So, that means you can hear what am I thinking right now”, Monowi asked, uneasy.

“Well, it depends on the strength of your thoughts and how much of them flow into your aura,” Kybaar replied. “The words you speak naturally cross through your aura, which is why they’re translated to us in the first place.”

Monowi scratched his head, “Would you mind explaining what an aura is?”

“Oh! So that’s how it is.” Kybaar’s eyes narrowed with realization. He gestured for Zani to leave them alone.

Once Zani left the room, Kybaar spoke: “You don’t know about auras, so you wouldn’t even know about how they work or how you can sense them. Am I right?”

“What I am supposed to say here?”, Monowi asked.

Kybaar with his voice lower than before, came closer to Monowi, and asked: “Are you from the lands of Gusht?”

The question took Monowi off guard, the quiet tone made it feel urgent. He answered in the same low voice, “I don’t know what the lands of Gusht are.”

Kybaar remained calm. “So, you are from the lands of Gusht. Before you ask what we mean by that, let me explain.”

He then paused and took a look around as if confirming they were both alone there and then wnet on:

“The lands of Gusht are a legend passed down among us. They say anyone who went searching for them never returned, not because they died, but because of the place’s uniqueness; those who found it stayed there. It exists in our world. The tale says the people who live there have no fear of death and live in leisure. In old times many from our lands became obsessed with the story and set out to find it.”

Kybaar adjusted his glasses with the tip of his fingers and then continued:

“Those who were left behind by relatives or acquaintances now make up most of the population in the known territories. And you can assume even the name of the lands of Gusht tied to you, will be enough to get you killed by local populace and even the authorities and Imperial Order.”

Kybaar paused briefly to let Monowi absorb his words, then continued.

“And, I am not assuming you are from those lands, but quite certain. Because you don’t know about auras which is a common knowledge here. And something about your aura seemed off, I knew that from first glance.”

Monowi face went pale, in fumbling voice he whispered, “Don’t tell me you are going to report me and get me killed.”

A low hum filled the room, barely more than a whisper yet audible: “I don’t want to die, not again.”

Kybaar gave a slight, almost ironic smile at Monowi’s confusion. “Relax. I’m not going to report you, if I wanted to, I would have already done it. And don’t forget, you are still connected to that box so keep your thoughts calm.”

After hearing Kybaar’s words, Monowi breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Monow relax, Kybaar spoke:

“I am not your enemy, but avoid telling this to others in future, if you want to live a peaceful life. But if authorities issue an order for you, I will follow the orders and chase you down, but until then you are safe. And now I must teach you the basics of aura, and some other basics of living so your survival here is ensured.”

“Can I ask a question?”, Monowi interrupted.

“What…”, Kybaar’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, how do you know my aura is different from others, when you haven’t seen anyone like me? Or… have you?” Monowi raised an eyebrow.

Kybaar paused: “Oh…”

Then suddenly he grinned and exclaimed: “Monowi… you are a smart one.”

He let the moment hang before continuing.:

“Very well, then let’s see how quick you are going to get what I am about to tell you.”

Kybaar placed his hand on the wooden box’s glass panel and then said some gibberish like before, but this time it seemed way different than the language they were speaking. The crystals glowed brightly, then faded back to their dormant state after a few seconds.

Kybaar stood up, before Monowi felt another sharp jolt of pain, though lighter than the last time, as this time Monowi remained still while only convulsing for a second, breathing hard.

Kybaar then said: “In a few seconds, the crystals in the box will die down. And after that you should speak to me in our language, then we will talk more about your understanding of things. You got it.”

“Yeah! I think I got it”, said Monowi while rolling his eyes upwards.

Just as Kybaar had said, the crystals light completely died down. Kybaar’s gaze fixed intently on him, and Monowi knew he had to try.

He tried: “Ah… Babdi brubda”

Kybaar snapped at him, “Monowi! What are you doing?”

Monowi thought for a moment, then said with hesitation, “I was trying… to speak… in your language…”, then Monowi quieted down and looked at Kybaar as if waiting for his seal of approval.

Kybaar’s reply came in a dismal tone. “See? You can speak our language. But that isn’t the point. This box has many other functions besides teaching someone to talk. I know many of them… though not all.”

He then paused briefly before continuing again:

“This box is a craft of my master. I know how to recreate it, and there is a certain reason I am called the Megal of West. And you…”, Kybaar suddenly broke his composure and burst out, “you still don’t believe me! I can see it on your face. Every time I tell you something unfamiliar, you make those strange expressions again and again. What is your problem here?”

Kybaar then clinched his fist and barely lowered his voice: “Look at me, I am trying to help you. Do you understand that?”

Monowi then replied while slowly blinking his eyes: “Your appearance and your… overrated description of everything is doing this, not me.”

A guard came running in after listening Kybaar shout, with a big spear in his hand aimed at Monowi. Kybaar exhaled a lot of air and then signaled the guard with his hand to go outside. Once the guard retreated, Kybaar steadied himself, took a deep breath, and spoke again:

“Okay! I am going to keep this straight and quick. In every known direction, there are Megals or the best sorcerers, chosen from people who belong there locally. I am the best in the west. Our Master is the one who chose all of us as Megals. We abide by the laws of wherever we go, and directly work for the authorities and on royal decrees. No one owns us, and by nature we live of our free will.”

Monowi: “And…”

Kybaar: “And the last thing I did for you was transfer basic knowledge into you through that box. To answer your question…”

He inhaled deeply and went on:

“It took me seconds to connect my aura to that box, and transfer my knowledge. It would have been the same, if I were on the receiving end. But it seemingly took a large time to transfer the knowledge of just our language into you, and most shocking was the pain you felt first time.”

Monowi interrupted: “Yes, I was curious about that too.”

Kybaar raised his finger as if asking Monowi to be quiet: “I am not finished yet, do not interrupt me. You didn’t feel the same pain twice, did you? The first time, the box struggled hard to find and lock onto your aura. The second time it already knew your aura signature, it was trying to connect, but still the pain second time, which shouldn’t be there.”

Monowi was almost about to say something but seeing the expressions on Kybaar’s face, he decided not to. Kybaar was still speaking:

“Every living being here has an aura, irrespective of their race or species. But in your case, the box acted like you had no aura at all, but had more like an aura space to maintain your existence in this reality. As if you are a living dead.”

Monowi: “Wait… What?”