Minnow
A SILENT DROP OF OCEAN

Although it wasn’t a long walk from the common area with the food and fairies and strange man who had been willing to help her, Minnow found her mind wandering off the goal of the large house and onto the potential identity of this mystery ker. Obviously Minnow knew she didn’t know every ker on Xara, nor even every ker in the swamp, but if this was a warrioress (or even a warrior) who was great enough to be pulled to another world by one of the originals, they had to be something special. Minnow knew every story about the great warriors, and naturally, all great warriors were from the swamp, so it had to be someone from home who she’d have heard about.

About a quarter of possibilities were ruled out by virtue of gender, but that still left a long list of possible candidates. Shore seemed like she’d be the type who Allianah might like, with her rather strict way about her and the no-nonsense personality. Shore had never been a favored heroine by Minnow, who prefer to enjoy herself when hunting and fighting, rather than hear about regimented plans of attack with few surprises and no creativity. Moss might be a candidate but she was better known for being a skilled hunter than really a warrior. Twig, the thought filled Minnow with excitement. Twig would be perfect, both for Minnow and for Allianah. Whatever reason this ker had some to Shaman, Twig could have handled it, just like the wolf pack.

If it was Twig, surely she’d have enough pelts to be willing to replace those Minnow had left on her hammock at home. As comfortable as the canvas and ropes had become now that they had dried and thawed, they were still rubbing at her raw skin and would be terrible to sleep in. Particularly because it was cold enough in the sunlight with so much skin exposed to the biting wind, nights would only be worse. The young ker skipped in anticipation of meeting any idol of hers, and bit into her lip and twisted her tail into nervous knots as she walked.

The nerves eased and excitement was forgotten as she passed a field of aja, all of similar type (a family, perhaps?) grazing and recalled that she was alone in this new adventure. In that moment she realized her feet were sore from walking so much on such hard ground. Still, these aja were either wild, or already bonded, and Minnow had no way to know what sort of rules there were on this world regarding the use of another’s aja.

The first glimpse of the world’s only other ker was not the ker herself, but a crowd gathered around and cheering outside some sort of building. For whatever reason, these were made out of rock or dried mud or something rather than wood, and weren’t connected by the bridges and docks of home. This particular building was also much larger than any she’d seen before, but had a similar feeling of comradeship and togetherness that home had. As some of the men in the crowd shifted to allow another into the center of the circle, Minnow caught a glimpse of an unmistakably-ker attribute: a split tail. That ruled Shore out.

She hurried over to the crowd and tried to push her way through the men who were all wearing some sort of thick protection everywhere, like they wouldn’t be able to dodge a hit from anything. Some turned to stare at her, making Minnow acutely aware of her obviously unorthodox clothing and appearance. She made it to the final layer of rowdiness when a woman spoke in a familiar accent, even though the words were not Xaran. Obviously whoever this was, was a mainlander and not from the swamp at all. She sunk slightly and squished her way through the last line of men.

The clothing the other ker was wearing was more similar to how these fairies were dressed than any kingdom of Xara, but the red hair gave everything away, and hatred threatened to engulf Minnow. The cold didn’t matter as hot blood raced through her, and her jaw clenched in an attempt to bite back the bitterness and tears of losing her family to first the refugees thrown there by the other kingdoms and then stripped away by the Volcano’s army. Every terrible recent event became the fault this ker, who Minnow had never met nor spoken to, and who was clearly well-liked among this crowd. What judgment the fifteen year old had ever had fled to make way for the emotions, and Minnow found herself spitting in the face of the woman, surrounded by all her armored friends.