User:Modify/Sojourn
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- Author's Note
- A word of warning to the reader, while I have endeavored to make this account as chronologically accurate as is possible with my limited resources it is likely that later revisions will change the order in which the following is presented and annotations will be added. It is a simple fact of the matter that these writings were discovered in Khaled's personal effects long after he had passed on and he could not be consulted about their accuracy during the compilation of this book. In addition many of the pages are undated and I have been forced to put them in order based on careful reading of their contents, the nature of the paper they are written on and the writing material. Thus it is entirely likely that errors have cropped up in my organization and some of what is written here is entirely fictitious, as much was left ambiguous, very few facts, if any can be checked about this part of his life. The validity of any of the following must be considered an educated guess at best.
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I sit here, pencil in hand, curled up in my furs, piece of paper strapped to what once was the backing board of some book and now served as a makeshift clipboard, and I wonder to myself what in the name of whatever gods and spirits may inhabit these forsaken hills possessed me to do this, to go on this reckless sojourn to the east. What made this son of a wealthy businessman join a band of scruffy, dirty, smelly country bumpkins and entrust his life in them as we headed further and further away from civilization. Sure, there had been my own academic failures. I'm no slouch in the intellectual department but I do not have the diligence or enthusiasm to become a scholar or the ambition to become a successor in one of the family businesses. Then there were my own insecurities when it came to dealing with others and my lack-luster initiative. Which, I do muse, clashes somewhat with my most recent exploits but that's to be explained later, I have this part to get out of the way first.
Of course, being the underachiever in a family like mine is just not going to happen. I simply had to do /something/ I had to be someone. So, with a little bit of ambition, a lot of not knowing what the heck I signed up for and some very strongly worded conversations with my father behind me I set out to do this. To travel and, if the stories were to be believed, do what our familial ancestors had done and find my fortune far abroad. Well ... so far I haven't found any fortune. Plenty of snow though. We have loads of snow. I'm sure that if I could figure out how to bring the snow back with me I would be a rich man but intellects far greater than my own have pondered this issue and failed. I know, I read it in a book. Oh yeah, I'm a bit of the bookish type. Lacking a library of any kind definitely makes this experience all the more ponderous.
So, after leaving my ancestral home on the warm sea I joined a group of travelers, traders and vagrants, people on their way somewhere else just like me, mostly fairly poor and used to this lifestyle, unlike me. Since then we headed north, by boat upriver and then east across the riverlands. The steppes were a welcome reprieve from sitting around on boats all day and the hills were a welcome relief from the myriad of biting insect that loved to pester us, especially me with my thin skin and sugary sweet blood.
As we headed further inland the seasons changed and our altitude climbed, introducing me to my first snow. How ecstatic I had been at that first encounter with the fluffy white stuff I had only ever read about. By now, though I have grown sick of it, how it bites into my feet, how it makes every step a slog and it drains the life from your bones. The altitude likely isn't helping me much either, if we still had the barometer I could tell you how high but that has been lost, or traded away like so many of the things I took along with me. I really was terribly ill prepared.
Now though, as uncomfortable as I may be, as much as I may pine for toilets that flush and books, I've gotten to a point where I have found a certain confidence, a certain knowledge that I can do this, I can live like this. It is an odd little realization that while you may not be used to this, nor enjoy it, you can tolerate it, and, with the right prompting you can thrive in this. Taking one day at a time, taking one step at a time you can live here, like this, and live quite well in fact.
Since leaving I have been keeping track of the correspondence between me and my mother. She is ever so fond of it. At first it was daily, then that shrunk to every other day, then once a week and now I send her a letter, whenever we hit a town large enough to have a post-office, quite incapable of receiving a letter back from her. Up until now that was my main outlet for writing, compiling letters of the events going on, the adventures I had had and so forth. But, given their very nature they were limited, censored by my own pen to leave out certain uncomfortable details of my existence here, certain encounters I did not wish to bother my dearest mother with. That is very much not what this letter feels like. That is not what I want to write here. I want to make an honest account, a letter that doesn't need to hide details, doesn't need to keep secrets. I don't know who I will be addressing this to but one thing I am confident about, I doubt that they will be read by another within my lifetime. Whether picked off my frozen corpse somewhere in these mountains or beyond, or retrieved from the family archive by a curious descendant of mine, I need not be embarrassed about what you might think about what I write here. Whether in awe, or chuckling at that stupid little noble from afar who thought he could become important by traveling into the wastes.
~ Excerpt from The Compiled Writings of Khaled Si'Dies Volume 2 (388 to 394) "Journey into the East"
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Fifty-Third Day of Dusk of the year 388
Today we made an interesting discovery. As we were traveling I noticed that the 'road' we were on, if you could call it that, was unnaturally straight and level. Previously roads had referred to these wretched rutted things that twisted and turned as they followed the ancestral animal pathes. This one on the other hand with the exception of the odd sapling sprouting out of it had a traversable surface and generally kept going in one direction. It was marvellous. Thus, hitting on an idea I set about doing a bit of digging during one of our rest-stops. After a bit of shifting the snow out of the way I hit upon the sleepers of an old railway track, the rails themselves long gone, likely looted for their metal content. It is my conviction that this was an old Imperial railway, the kind that were built to cut deep into the far east, supplying the colonies there. These fell into disuse after the fisher rebellion and the fall of the third dynasty, which brought an end to most of the colonial efforts of the Imperium.
By train the journey I had made so far would have seemed trivial, in carriages with their own sleeping quarters, dining rooms and even entertainment it would simply have been a challenge of keeping yourself occupied for the two weeks that the journey would take. Sadly the only remaining line that's still operated along it's full length is far north of here and deep inside the Imperium. In addition it's largely restricted to troop trains, supply freighters and shuttles carrying dignitaries and nobility. As much respect as a businessman may command down in the city-states, without a title I am nothing but a commoner in their eyes. Meanwhile out here I am the plump little rich kid who would freeze to death if he got lost.
Remind me why I decided to do this again?
As much as I might lament my decision in doing this there have definitely been some benefits. Through travel and vigorous exercise while living off a diet that is much less sustaining than I might have appreciated at home I have managed to shed any excess weight I might have had. That little stomach that I had been developing ever since turning Twenty-Two that worried me is gone and I have easily lost several pounds, meanwhile I have developed some wiry but tough muscles. I'm by no means strong but I definitely feel more spry, more solid, quicker and leaner. Meanwhile my fur has responded to the colder climate as well, becoming fuller and softer. Somewhat inconvenient whenever we do make it to civilization, I have found indoor temperatures appropriate for men to be uncomfortable, but otherwise I have found myself much better capable of tolerating the local climate, even enjoying being out and about on the road. These are welcome changes that I doubt I would have been capable of achieving without all the unfamiliarity and discomfort I have suffered over these weeks.
This reminds me I really am little compared to the men(1) I travel with and it is hard not to be intimidated by those who tower over you by several heads. I feel physically insignificant compared to them. With arms thicker than my leg they are unmatched in feats of the physical and endurance, carrying more, for longer and doing more work than I ever could. It is impressive and a clear example of why the imperium has been so successful for so long. With millions of citizens capable of doing so much work their feats of engineering are entirely within their grasp and the city-states are right to fear them. I am not entirely without my advantages though. I have noticed that I am small and light enough to often walk on the crust of ice that forms in snow on a warm day while they and their animals must slog through it. I am also a much more competent climber than any one of them. And for as little work as I am capable of I consume less, any one of their meals would sustain me for days.
Some of my senses are also much more acute than theirs with much smaller ears that are fixed to the sides of their heads they perceive sound less acuitely and have a much harder time figuring out where those sounds are coming from, my senses of taste and smell also seem more acute, though not significantly so. My sight on the other hand seems inferior to theirs, I have never been in need of glasses and I am still young enough to have not suffered any degradation so I do believe this is a general distinction. It appears that they are better at perceiving finer detail as well as comprehending colours I simply do not. I don't quite understand what is going on there but it may explain why imperial art and design seems so dull and bland compared to our own, they require less colour to achieve the same level of distinction we perceive in our own designs. This seems to be a mixed blessing though, shrubbery and bushes seem to confound their eyesight much more than it does my own. Again, I am not sure why and I will have to do some reading up on the matter.
So, for as hard as it may be to appreciate my own contributions at times, I have to remember that I can be and am a valuable member of the group. Lest they joke about eating me again. That definitely sent a shiver down my spine and has forced me to endevour to be as lean and inedible as possible. As well as sleep with a knife under my pillow, you never know when it might come in handy.
~ Excerpt from The Compiled Writings of Khaled Si'Dies Volume 2 (388 to 394) "Journey into the East"
(1) Men is used in the archaic context collectively referring to peoples of the human races, and not to the male or female gender. This is a common linguistic habit amongst City-State peoples.
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Today I caught my first meal, I didn't believe I could but Elsa has been encouraging me to do so for weeks now. She has been telling me how important it is for me to know how to catch my own food in case something happens, I get lost or otherwise cut off from the group. I was never one for hunting, rifles are much too loud when they are being used and back home hunting really just seems like an excuse for rich folk to get away from their wives and agree with each other about things I have never had much interest in. Out here hunting was different, it was still a lot of waiting around and quite boring but it was methodical stalking with a real payoff at the end.
I had been out gathering tinder when I noticed a small sound, it's hard to properly describe, like a soft pattering crunch of a small critter moving about under the snow. I hear it all the time when the conversation dies down on the road, little creatures scrambling to get out of the way of the large creatures that we are. Men cannot hear them so all I got was odd stares the first couple of occasions I brought it up but eventually Elsa caught on and explained to me what was causing them. Acutely aware of this small creature in my vicinity I noticed another thing about these sounds, it wasn't the mad pitter-patter of a creature trying to get away from me but a softer and calmer sound, it did not appear to be aware of my presence. Seeing my opportunity I set my tinder down and waited.
With no timepiece or anything else to track time by it was an agonizingly long wait, it felt like hours but likely was no more than ten or twenty minutes before a tiny little snow white head with beady black eyes poked out of it's burrow and seemed to scrutinize it's surroundings. I am unsure if it noticed me and decided I wasn't a threat or overlooked me entirely because after a moment it's paranoia seemed satisfied and it hopped out onto the snow. It's fur blended in so well that I doubt I would have been capable of seeing it if I had not known it was there. Sure enough though it hopped out and away from the safety and security of it's own home, unaware of the peril it had wandered into, surely an allegory for my own situation.
I was aware this wasn't going to be easy for me, I have fruitlessly chased these creatures before and knew they were fast, much faster than I would ever be. They were predictable though, and not terribly bright. When chased they would run directly away from me but if startled they would attempt to make it for their burrows. All what was really needed was a well thrown stick to send it scurrying back towards what otherwise would have been safety. As it darted into reach I lunged forwards and for a moment there I thought it another opportunity blown as the small creature slipped through my fingers and into it's burrow. Only later would I realize that I had fortuitously put a foot down directly over the tunnel of the poor rodent, when I had lunged I had broken through the icy surface of the snow and collapsed the burrow below, cutting off it's escape. Panicked and confined it doubled back only to find a rather surprised me. One mad scramble later I had it firmly by the scruff and all it could do was kick it's legs and chatter at me in the hope it might somehow squirm loose.
This presented me with a new problem. I definitely wasn't going to walk all the way back to camp with this thing squirming in my hand and risk it getting away from me, definitely not the first thing I had ever successfully hunted by hand. Or what was more on the forefront of my mind at the time, risk it getting purchase somehow and biting me. I had seen Elsa and the others dealing with small animals before, grab it by the head, a small tug and a twist and the creature went limp but I was unsure I could do the same on my first try and I wasn't about to let it's mouth get any closer to my fingers. Fortunately a tree and a lot of wincing on my part presented a solution to this problem, I swung it head first at the trunk a couple of times, fearful that it might only be stunned and wake up to exact it's bloody vengeance against my sins.
Queasy I added it's little broken from to the pile of tinder before heading home, trying my hardest to ignore what had once been a small spark of vibrant life just moments before.
I do feel a certain measure of guilt now for my actions. This was the first time I have ever purposefully taken the life of another being and it strikes me how it wasn't entirely necessary, how I could have let it live out it's natural life without my interference. If there is a place for little creatures like these after their lives are over then I'd like to apologize. Sorry little one, I won't forget you.
You were delicious though.
~ Excerpt from The Compiled Writings of Khaled Si'Dies Volume 2 (388 to 394) "Journey into the East"
This passage is often considered either a fictitious embellishment on Khaled's part or a complete forgery, most cite the fact that it was not found together with his other writings but surfaced under fairly mysterious circumstances, in addition the handwriting style, paper quality and choice of words does not match up with passages that are supposedly contemporary with this one. One explanation for this discrepancy is that the correct chronological placement of this story is much later on in the sequence of writing but this hypothesis has a number of problems, later on he writes of this hunting style and describes already being familiar with it, his choice of phrasing suggests having previously discussed it. In addition the handwriting style still does not match up much later in the events and is more likely to be the hand of another person. What seems to be a more likely explanation is that this is a reproduction from memory of a passage that was lost at some point. The true author of this passage and the the story behind it's creation will unfortunately likely continue to elude us.
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