A Chief’s Word

“The men I’ve known are diverse in their skin, their temperaments, their histories, and more. But one man stands out among them all. His power is vast, enough to massacre nations big and small if he so wishes; yet, he is gentle with the youngest of flowers, cries when they wilt, and sings when they bloom. I can’t believe I’m related to him. Our philosophies are as different as can be.”

—Robin Benz

By the time the three suns have dipped below the sandy horizon, Roo found an array that leads straight to Forre Tree. He explains to me that it’s where the Chief and his family reside among other people and places involved with the government. Thankfully, the array doesn’t involve falling from massive heights— it’s simply stepping on a green circle and then teleporting to another one on Benz Square.

Benz Square is a cross-section of main roads, all leading to different buildings such as courthouses, office buildings, training grounds, and prestigious academies. Roo leads us down one of these cobblestone pavements, completely silent. Mirei and I still rest upon the floating slab of Chekagi branch, hovering behind him. There is much less decoration and people here than in Chekagi Tree, giving it a gloomy aura.

Roo had told us when we arrived that we were going to see Chief Pons, his father. In my mind, I thought that the Chief of such a festive and exciting city would be equally as colorful, living within brightly painted castles or an enchanting alcove deep in the Tree’s trunk. But, looking around at the street lamps dimmed by polluted air, I realize my expectations are way off.

Mirei is sitting cross-legged beside me. From my laying-down position, I watch her dirty back, hunched over. Her head hangs rather than swiveling left and right like it always does when she’s in a new place. Her stillness somehow depresses my mood further.

Many minutes pass of Roo lumbering down the road with us hovering behind him. Then, his voice breaks the silence.

“I will have to tell my father about you.”

It’s the first thing he’s said since Chekagi Tree. The wood beneath my back sways in a rocky motion. “You mean that we’re from another world?” I respond.

“That, and…” He trails off, steps slowing to a stop. Our slab of wood glides from behind Roo to beside him. I look at him, trying to discern his expression beneath the curtain of night.

Roo brings a hand to his mouth as he continues, “That, and how you and your sister possess the same magic as the one that powered the sandstorm.”

Oh, crap, I think. Mirei seems to have thought the same thing, for she whimpers, “But… it wasn’t us. It wasn’t, I swear it!”

Her thin fingers clutch the edge of Chekagi wood hard enough to turn her knuckles white. Her back straightens and trembles. Roo turns his head to look at her, but I still can’t make his face out. He melts into the night without the moon to illuminate him like last time.

“I’m not the one you should be pleading to. Save it for the courthouse.”

His tone is cold.

My eyes sting—with dust? Tears?—while I contemplate what is going to happen to us. Thoughts of jail, hangings, and rumors buzz around my head, knocking against my skull in a way that signals an oncoming migraine.

Roo gestures to the building before us, its main door lit up by two wrangled tree branches that sprout from the ground, topped with glowing green crystals. This is not the courthouse, but soon enough we will be standing before one.

There are many things I want to say. Hundreds of words have been teetering on the edge of my tongue since I first saw Roo. But only seven breach my lips in a feeble whisper:

“Weren’t you going to watch over us?”

Roo’s eyes fall onto me. He tilts his head to the side. “What did you say? Speak up.”

I turn my head away, refusing to look at him. Mirei sniffles.

Roo only grumbles something before trudging forward and slamming the doors open. We follow, as always. Inside is much brighter: glowing crystals like the ones outside hang from threads of gold attached to the tall ceiling. Chandeliers made of gems and bottles containing strange spheres of light hang right above a massive staircase. Its jade steps are covered with a white rug, which Roo currently stands on. He pads across the carpet and up the stairs, bringing us with. We meander through several fancy halls before stopping in front of a large pair of double doors. They sparkle with emerald-like gems tucked inside the mouths of two fish heads sculpted from gold.

Roo touches his fingers to each of the gems. They pulse with light once, and then the doors creak open.

Inside is another room that’s smaller than the main corridor. At its center is a long, polished desk. A quill dances in an old man’s hand, writing on one of the dozens of papers strewn on the desk’s surface. Crystals that glow gold float about in the air around the man, gently swirling between stacks of paper and his head. His face is set in a deep frown, causing brown skin to wrinkle. His eyes are sunken but stern as they sweep across the document.

“Father,” Roo calls. The man looks up.

Chief Pons sighs deeply before responding. “What is it, son?”

We watch the man set his quill down and run a hand through his brown beard, two braids made of gray and brown falling between clawed fingers. He looks so much like Roo: forest green eyes, elf ears, gentle facial features. However, wisdom lines his face with every wrinkle and scar.

“I meant to introduce you to these two intruders much earlier today. But then the sandstorm hit.”

“Ah,” Chief Pons murmurs. “So these are the ones that upset the leyline flow momentarily.”

I say nothing. I’m too afraid to piss this guy off. It’s already bad enough with Roo’s ire; I don’t want to garner another’s, especially the Chiefs. But none of this passes through Mirei’s tiny head.

“What are leylines? We know nothing about that.” Her high voice echoes throughout the room, much louder than Chief Pons’.

His heavy gaze falls upon her. She scooches back on the wood slightly.

Roo gives her a cursory glance before replying. “Leylines are the source of all magic in this world. Your arrival caused a momentary hiccup in them, one that went unnoticed by all except our leyline monitor device. I was sent to search the surrounding wilds of the city. It took nearly three days, and eventually, I came across the two of you.”

Chief Pons stands from his seat. I can fully see him now: black robes drown his muscular frame, held together by a thick leather belt. Intricate designs of tree leaves and fantastical animals decorate it, along with white ropes and satchels. Gold rings and necklaces adorn his hands and neck, including a thin cape similar to Roo’s that hangs from the necklace. Unlike Roo’s, though, it is green and long enough to skim the jade floors.

“Outlanders appear at roughly the same time as a deadly sandstorm… and they share the same magic,” Chief Pons drawls, eyeing us from his spot beside the desk.

He saunters forward, a subtle smile growing with each step of his heavy leather boots. As he approaches, my eyes widen. Besides his human-like skin, there is a patch of moss and stone that stretches from the right side of his neck to the bottom of his jaw.

His eyes glisten with intrigue. “How interesting.”