Chapter 16

On the first night on the next leg of his journey, Zuri felt the distortion of the Ahsa in the outcropping above his head. The sensation was strange and disorienting. He left his pack at the bottom and used his leather strings to tie the staff to his back. Even with his new tough boots, the climb was difficult, and he had the bruises and scrapes to prove it.

At the top, he found a medium sized rock cut into a perfect square. The feeling of disorientation was emanating from the rock. Feeling like he was in danger, Zuri whipped the staff from his back, charged it at the same time and attacked the block. One strong blow and the sensation ceased. Another blow and the stone cracked as if it had always been fragile. One more blow and block crumbled into dust. The sound akin to clay pots bursting sounded across the plain, followed by silence.

“Another barrier set in place by the Grandmaster has fallen,” Zuri murmured as he poked at the grey dust in the moonlight. “When the Old Folk spoke of the disorientation they felt upon leaving Fundazioa, this must have been the source. How did he construct such a thing?” He climbed down slowly, trying his best to avoid breaking his neck.

Although Zuri was confident, he was moving faster alone than walking with Leniz, he was still dragging in the late afternoon of the second day of traipsing through the outermost band of the Fundazioa. His heart lifted when he viewed the First Homestead in the distance. He had wanted to quicken his pace, but his legs were committed to one steady grueling pace.

“Hello, the house,” Zuri shouted when he reached the perimeter.

“Hello, fair traveler,” Baraze called out, waving a dishtowel. “From where have you traveled?”

“It’s me, Zuri,” he called out as he turned into their front field. “I’ve been gone many months, but surely, you remember me.”

“Aye, Gura,” Baraze said with a laugh. “I remember you well. You’ve grown in stature and beard.”

“Among many other things, Baraze,” Zuri said, matching her laugh. “Is Izeh about?”

“He’s in the back somewhere. No doubt, he’s heard the shouting and is making his way to find out who is here. Can I take your pack and offer you a cup of water?”

“Look what the desert wind blew in, Baraze,” Izeh said, after coming around the corner with a hoe still in his hand. “Leniz’s Gura.”

“First things, first,” Zuri said, leaning his staff against the wall underneath the porch. “I’m no longer a Gura.”

“Abdicated?” Izeh asked with a funny look on his face.

“Graduated,” Zuri said. “The old ways are now free to return. I am now First Master of the Ghura if the title really matters. The truth is that I’m Zuri, from Fundazioa. You are Izeh and Baraze, the First Homestead of Fundazioa if you decide you want to establish your family here.” Zuri cocked his head. “Aren’t the two of you supposed to have finished your year already?”

“Leniz begged us to stay,” Izeh said, “he told us he would make it right with the council. I’m not sure you’re sun-tinged or the answer to all our prayers. Let’s take some proper hospitality to welcome you back, safe and sound. What’s in the pot, my dear?”

“Pea porridge with a mess of greens and onions,” Baraze said. “We also have a few fingers left in the brandy cask.”

Zuri followed Izeh around the back of the house and managed to peel off his clothes and wash himself. He stood in the late day sun, letting the heat and sun dry the water on his skin.

“Holy cow,” Izeh said. “I’ve seen wrestlers and their muscles, but you look like one of those fancy statues the nobles show off. Where in God’s name did you get those muscles.”

“One of the acquisitions one earns while attempting to become a Ghura Master,” Zuri said. “I’ve been studying so hard for so long, that I didn’t even pay attention.”

“The young maids are going to swoon over you,” Izeh said.

“Now that you mention it, I could use some swooning,” Zuri said. “It’s been months since Leniz and I split ways. Did he make it back?”

“Yeah,” Izeh said, refusing to look Zuri in the eyes.

“Let me guess,” Zuri said. “He acted all confused, like his mind was scrambled.”

“Everyone who comes out of the west acts that way,” Izeh said. “He was parched and tired. The journey really aged him.”

“I’ve taken care of the scrambling, as you call it,” Zuri said. “All the Old Folk may travel Fundazioa without fear of losing their minds. The mechanism was put in place to keep the secrets of Fundazioa restricted to Fundazioa, even from the Old Folk. Can you imagine what would have happened if someone explored this place, returned to Qirin, and then blabbed about it where the ears of the Kingdom could hear? We would have been overwhelmed with fools, adventurers and paid cutthroats doing their masters’ bidding.”

Izeh shuddered. “I understand, I suppose. No more people losing their minds?”

“The need is gone,” Zuri said. “The Folk must return now and raise up the land again.”

“I can’t believe that our dream of a thousand years is coming true.”

“Pour some of Baraze’s cooking in me and chase it down with some brandy,” Zuri said with a smile, “and I promise to do my best to convince you that the time has come, and the dream is now reality.”

They polished off the brandy, and it was not a particularly good one to start. Zuri powered through it, doing his best to enjoy his first drink in many months.

“How long was I gone,” Zuri asked.

“About eleven months according to my math,” Baraze said. “Leniz came back over nine months ago, poor soul. We nursed him back to strength as best we could before we sent him to Premia.”

“Anyone else come?”

“No one has come from the west, if that is what you mean,” Izeh said. “Leniz tried to tell us who he met, but he couldn’t get the words out right.”

Zuri nodded. “We learned that one woman died climbing a cliff that collapsed under her. We also encountered a woman named Darizcuren. Leniz remembered a couple with kids got addicted to whatever they were growing in their back field. He died and she disappeared. She was barely capable of taking care of herself when we left her. The wolves terrorized her into a quivering mess.”

“We didn’t hear wolves last night,” Izeh said. “We thought something was missing and after a few hours, we puzzled it out.”

“They’ve been freed from their geas, keeping the Folk out,” Zuri said. “They are now free to roam the entirety of Fundazioa again now that the Folk can return. There are huge tracts further in the interior that have not been explored since the Ghura left.”

“Why did they leave? Why did they exile us?”

“Something cataclysmic sent everyone off the great plain of Fundazioa,” Zuri said. “I have not learned what happened, but everyone was banished, and the great complex was sealed to all.”

“Complex?”

“Ungjin, the heart of the Ghura Masters’ domain,” Zuri said. “I’ve been training there since I had to leave Leniz. The Folk used to provide everything that Ungjin needed to function. The grandmaster ruled the complex and the Ghura Masters traveled the known world, spreading their knowledge and teaching.”

“What was their teaching?”

“Whatever they taught is gone,” Zuri said. “The last grandmaster deliberately eradicated it from the rest of the world. The Guras today are the distant remnants of the Ghura Masters, but they know almost nothing. Everything the Guras have to offer today, they invented after the exile. Who knows, the elite of the Guras may know the truth and they hide it from everyone else. Then again, I don’t think so.”

“If the knowledge was so dangerous that everyone had to flee, why bring it back?” Izeh asked.

“The knowledge is what it is, neither good nor bad,” Zuri said, tapping on the front door of his mental palace. “We are the ones who are either good or bad, building or destroying. Even at the time of exile, the Ghura Masters were an ancient tradition. Is it not taught that all things shall come to pass? All things did.”

With that sentiment expressed, they rolled off to their respective beds. Zuri was feeling his alcohol, delighting in the spinning sensation as he lay his head on his makeshift pillow. His last conscious thought was a note of strangeness as the grounds outside remained stubbornly silent.

The morning was grey and overcast. With offerings of appreciation for their hospitality, Zuri departed the First Homestead. He reached the staircase at the edge before mid-afternoon and made his camp at the foot of the great black cliff. He was eager to reach Premia with the morning light.

He reached Premia that day, finding the town quiet. He walked into the temple to seek out Olabe, but the place was empty. He took a moment to sit in the Pointing Chayre, bringing up the globe and the stick. He felt Kaosa, but he left the decision to go there until later. He had business still and debts to repay.