My New Home

“Loali...” Galla sighed, “are you suggesting that he live with us for his sake, or so you can interrogate him more easily?”

“We have room, don’t we? And Itelber does too, I’ve been to more than just the workshop.”

“That does not answer my question.” Galla pressed, and while I watched Loali shrink just a bit I remained in my stupor.

“He needs a place to live anyway, doesn’t he?”

“I would like to volunteer my own home for Danny.” Illose suggested, drawing my attention to her. She was gazing at me with a kind expression, which immediately seemed to wash away some of my nerves. “Zida and I offered quite a long time ago to take in any parentless children from this village and the surrounding ones, if the need arose. It was through this request we gained Creyna several years ago, and Zida and I would be more than happy to care for another.”

“And it is for that reason that I will preliminarily accept your suggestion. We can discuss this further with Zida later, but I see no issue with you housing him in the meantime,” she agreed, then turned her attention to me. “How do you feel about that proposal, Danny?”

I purposefully avoided Loali’s disappointed eyes, instead focusing my attention again on Illose. Despite the fact that I tried to silently ask her if it was really okay, the only answer I received in return was her eyes gently narrowing further. Eventually, all I could do was smile back at her.

“I’d, uh... I’d like that.”

Illose was quick to take me with her after that, once we’d said our goodbyes. While I wanted to stay and talk with Loali, I was more pressed by two concerns; I was tired, and I was a bit intimidated by her all of a sudden.

On our way, I learned a bit more about Kogen from Illose. For starters, the long halls I’d noticed before, about five times my width, sloped downward to lead us into whitish, stucco-like tunnel walls of the underground portion of the village.

All of the homes in the village primarily existed underground interconnected by tunnels, and only small one-person entrances existed anywhere except the chieftess’s home. All of those “houses” I’d seen aboveground were functional rooms that also acted as sturdy avenues for ventilation that could not be easily infiltrated. When I started to ask why, I was stopped when I came to my own conclusion. Most of this was probably for defense.

If there was only one entrance in the entire village that was wide enough to permit a lot of people to enter, it would be easier to defend the underground labyrinth that held all the village’s citizens and supplies. One-person entrances connected to the stone structures aboveground could be easily blocked off and selectively defended to maintain breathability.

The lack of any other people aboveground when we’d entered Kogen suddenly made sense to me, though I hadn’t really questioned it before, when Illose and I encountered person after person on our way. Maybe I’d subconsciously thought that everyone was asleep before. My eyes were too tired to recognize much about any of the dim people we passed.

It wasn’t long before we reached a sturdy wooden door laden with glowing moss that spelled out two names, which were somewhat blurred by the moss’s growth.

“Illose, and... Vernae?”

“Ah, I suppose I should ask him to trim up the gleamoss soon.” She responded with a sigh in her voice at first, leading one of her claws over the edge of her name. “Vernae is the head of the other family in this home.”

“You don’t have last names?”

“We do not, though I’ve heard some hero’s children pass on their names through their bloodline. We simply identify ourselves by stating the name of our house’s head attached to our own name, if that becomes necessary. In my case, my only name would be Illose, but I can state members of my house if need be.”

“I understand, I guess.” I replied, suddenly wondering whether I should ever mention my last name. I hadn’t yet, since it hadn’t seemed as relevant compared to the other things I’d wanted to tell them, but with Illose’s information I realized I should probably keep it to myself so I didn’t cause myself any trouble.

“Would I call myself ‘Danny Illose’ then?”

“Not quite,” she responded, a chuckle to her voice, “you would say that you’re ‘Danny of Illose’ or ‘of Illose’s house.’ Calling yourself ‘Danny Illose’ would imply that I am a hero.”

“I see the difference.” I said, committing it to memory as she opened the wooden door with a simple push. There were no locks stopping her, but once the door was open I could see a few brass-looking hooks on the inside of the door frame which could likely be used to barricade the door with the help of the thick logs I noticed propped against the wall.

Not a moment after we entered a dark purple night phoenix, their flames at first dull but slowly rising to match Illose’s, greeted us both.

“I see you brought a guest, my dear?” She started, and I noticed her eyes widened and softened my way.

“That I did,” she responded, before looking at me, “I’ll introduce you to Creyna and Vernae’s family soon, but until then I am pleased to introduce you to Zida, my wife. Zida, this is Danny, a foundling our hunting party discovered just a little while earlier.”

“Sorry to intrude...”

“Ah, there’s no need for that, now,” Zida croaked in a kind tone, and when she did I noticed that something sounded familiar about her voice. Illose and Byza’s voices had sounded the same to me at first, feeling creaky and forced, but Illose’s voice had mostly lost that quality by now.

When I thought about it further, though their voices didn’t have the same gravel to them, I could recall a similar quality present in Itelber and the heralen’s voices as well, but that had faded out by the end of our first conversations. Something about their tones had been intentional.

That can’t be the case though, right? They were just talking?

“Why do you sound like tha..?” Only at the last word did I realize what I’d asked, and I became instantly petrified by the fact that I’d asked it aloud. “Uh, I mean, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, Danny, I’m not offended,” Zida tried to assure me, but I could barely force a smile as I lowered my eyes.

That was rude to ask, right? I’m so stupid...

“You’re not used to voices like mine and Zida’s, correct? It's quite fine that you’re curious about the way we speak, and I assure you neither I nor Zida take offense. I can tell that you’re not asking out of malice.” Combined with Illose’s verbal reassurance, the feeling of her feathers caressing my back forced me to take a long, deep breath.

They’re not upset. I just need to explain.

“It’s not the way you speak, exactly, but I noticed that everyone’s voices sound forced somehow. Is there a reason, or am I maybe just..?” Am I just imagining it?

“I think I understand what you’re referring to,” Illose said, “it might be a result of all of us speaking so loudly.”

“Loudly?” I asked, but I quickly understood what she meant when I thought back to the forest. I had been surprised before about how eerily quiet it was, and I remembered struggling most of the time to understand the others when they weren’t speaking to me.

“Just as how we’ve been increasing the brightness around you to assist your ability to navigate, we have been making an effort to increase the volume of our speech. I could tell when we met by the way that you introduced yourself that you were likely accustomed to a louder environment than we have here.”

Does that mean I sound like I’m yelling at them every time I speak, then? And that they’ve been hurting their eyes so that I can walk around?

I wanted to fold in on myself at the thought, remembering all the things I’d asked and the conversations I’d had this past night, and the firelight in Loali’s home. I did my best to brush those thoughts aside, however, by focusing on how none of them had yet complained about any of that, and the fact that they seemed to do these things easily.

They were doing all that to help me..?

“I’m so- ah, no, uh, thank you.” Though I’d begun to apologize, I quickly realized that it would be better to thank them instead. They’d already told me a few times not to apologize, so doing so again would’ve likely just been annoying, and I truly was thankful for their consideration of me. It was at this time that I again felt the need to hold back the stinging of tears at the corners of my eyes, and in the meantime I passed a genuine smile to both, which they reciprocated in their own way.