Chapter Six: A Warm Welcome From Astis

   Consciousness slowly trickled in to Jairo, and he opened his eyes right before groaning. His limbs felt like lead, and his throat was dry. He attempted to swing his legs out of bed, but they responded sluggishly, and he was underneath an exceptionally heavy and warm blanket. He regarded the blanket, annoyed, yet piqued by the strange squares of color that composed its surface. How wealthy the owner of this had to be one, afford to have so many cloth animals sheared for their wool, and two, to bestow one upon a random guest such as he.

   With many complaints from his neck joints, Jairo turned his head upon an equally thick pillow and found himself face to face with the underside of a large and green ceramic bowl, sitting upon a wooden bedside table. Who was wealthy enough to afford all this and have him benefit from it? Jairo automatically shook his head at the sheer chance of it happening and immediately regretted the pounding headache that followed.

   He got one arm out from under the blanket with difficulty, and felt for the lid of the bowl. Instead, his hand dunked itself in the contents of the bowl, and alarm shot through Jairo. Who was an idiot enough to leave standing water out to evaporate in the hot desert climate? Despite his protesting body he propped himself up on one elbow and looked about the room. He nearly fainted, retaining consciousness but falling back onto the pillow. The whole room was made of wood. Where in the world was he?

   Jairo managed to sit up that time, and slowly got his legs out from under the blanket. Then a draft came in from beyond a panel of wood and chilled him, so he pulled it more closely around him. He bent his head forward to drink out of the bowl, for it was a bit too heavy to lift with his weak hands at the moment.

   The whole room was constructed of mainly wood, a light brown making up the floor, walls, vaulted ceiling, the bed, the bedside table, and the other furniture in the room. Across from Jairo was that peculiar panel of wood with a small black metal thing at about waist height on one side. The left wall was a series of shelves with dark brown leather bundles upon them, in a rectangular shape and somewhat resembling the leather tincture bundles Naa used to have for his regular patients. The right wall was dominated by a stone column that grew fatter and had a hole at the base. A metal web that partially enclosed said hole was set into the same stone structure. In the middle of a room stood a round wooden table with a few legs, and had two straight-backed wooden chairs. A third chair that was curvier and rested upon wooden lengths like a sand sled, was facing and was closer to the stone thing. A metal lantern, looking in better condition than the one Saph had, shone brightly and illuminated the room. Light also streamed in from a window high up on the right wall and close to the bed.

   Jairo took another sip, then stared into the water, with his reflection staring back at him. The only other time he had seen standing water in anything more than the size of a cup was at the oasis, but the water had been to muddy with dirt and plant stuff to see anything. His strong brown eyes looked haggard, with lines around them, as if he hadn't gotten any good sleep in days. He never realized how weird his nose was. It was narrow all the way except for a wide bottom, making his mouth look less significant. Jairo felt his naturally light brown skin, and noticed some stubble there on his cheek. A bit was growing on top too. Can't have that. He used some fire to turn the hair into a bit of ash, so he was nice and bald again. A lot better than the method back home, which involved rubbing hot sand all over your head and face, then rinsing off with REALLY cold water.

   Jairo splashed a bit of water onto his face, relishing the cool touch, and he could almost feel the lines around his eyes going away. How pompous and rich he felt. A hiccup of laughter escaped him. He chuckled, and soon he was laughing outright. At how just a week ago, his life had been so different. Before all this stuff happened because of his sixteenth birthday. Jairo fell back onto the bed, gasping. He had no idea where he was, how long he had been unconscious, who had taken him in, why they were so rich, and why they left standing water without a lid to cover it.

   A couple minutes after he came back to his senses, Jairo was staring at the sky through the small window made of that same translucent material he had made out of sand. He took occasional sips from the bowl, to sate his seemingly infinite thirst. He wondered who and when had discovered to make it here, for Fire Children were far and few between. Then a white object moved into view, and Jairo nearly let the bowl crash to the floor. He stepped as close the window as he could and keep the cloud in his sight. It was indeed a cloud! A grin broke out on Jairo's face. This was a time to rejoice! Clouds always meant rain for his village, and such a large and fluffy-looking cloud meant a LOT of rain for the village! Then the smile faded. At least, it meant rain for wherever he was.

   Jairo picked up the blanket again and wrapped it around himself like a cloak, for there was an alien cold that pervaded the atmosphere, and he was fairly certain it wasn't just his recent state. He slowly moved over to the stone pillar, and sat down in the curvier chair. Instantly it tipped backwards and he felt like he was going to fall over. He flailed around for a bit until he managed to get over the side with a thump. He moaned, now his ribs ached even more. Jairo stood the chair upright again and crouched down in front of the stone column. He noticed a pile of wood inside, and peering his head in, saw a square of sky above, with walls of more stone. Nothing to get damaged if he warmed up this place with a fire. Jairo moved back and shot a bolt of fire at the pile of wood.

   He pulled up one of the straight chairs and warmed himself up. So good to feel warmth not conjured from his own body heat. For a couple minutes he just sat there, enjoying the fire, listening to the crackling and the occasional pop from the logs. Then Jairo was greeted with yet another strange sight this morning. The drafty wood panel swung out and some sort of monstrous golem stepped through before closing the panel after it got in. Then the head moved up and he saw the face of a pale man, with a bushy white mustache and a square jaw. A pale man with peculiar eyes that weren't brown, and wrapped in an absurd amount, of what appeared to be various types of thick black clothing.

   The man waved a hand awkwardly, encased as it was, including the elbow joint. Then he walked over to the table, and began to shed some layers. Starting with some kind of sandal, except thick and black, covering the whole foot, and a good distance above the ankle. Even then some other brown covering obscured his foot from view. Then another round hat, a word Jairo had learned from the bandits for their strange head coverings, came off the top of the head to reveal a mess of white locks. Some black hand coverings, that made it look like he had a thick leathery skin, were removed to show wrinkled fingers and the cleanest fingernails Jairo had ever seen. Then a peculiar, particularly floppy piece of cloth was unwound from around the neck, and Jairo recognized it for what he had seen before blacking out earlier, then fluttering in the cold wind.

   The man was slow and unspeaking, but Jairo kept his silence, and continued to enjoy the warmth and this strange display. The man then took off a cloak so large it was practically a blanket with sleeves, and some sort of securing device on the front, but all Jairo could see were some wooden circles with holes in them. He put the boots by the panel, large cloak around the back of the other straight chair, hat on one corner of said chair, hand things in a cloak pocket. The man then sat down in the chair heavily, sighing, then turning the chair to face Jairo.

   "Foore solng bryne," the man stated.

   "What?" Jairo replied.

   "I said: So, you've found out how to make the fireplace work," he said.

   Jairo then realized, that he had no idea who this man was, where he was, why everything here is so strange, and why he was here. He remembered his now not-so-new mantra. He would trust this man as much as necessary, but not a grain more.

   "How do you feel?" the man asked, leaning forward a bit, looking almost concerned.

   "So, that's what it's called? A fireplace?" Jairo said, pointing to the hollow stone pillar.

   "Yes, a place, for keeping fire." The man smiled warmly, and looked at Jairo intently. Jairo had never seen such strange eyes. They were... what was the color... green. He had only ever seen green a couple times, the strange things Naa sometimes used for healing tinctures. But not that deathly pale green. The man's eyes were a vibrant emerald color, contrasting sharply with the white skin and hair.

   "So... where am I?" Jairo asked.

   "Ah," the man said, leaning back again. He raised his arms as if the next sentence was one of glory. "Welcome, to Astis. Our humble, mad little town."

   "I have no idea where that is. What tribe are you of?"

   "Oh!" the man's eyebrows rose significantly. "You're one of the desert boys, aren't ya? Is it true that you sometimes eat your own people if they betray the tribe?' Jairo made a face, so the man quickly shook his head, obviously embarrassed. "Sorry, just a rumor. Ah, but of names. I am Rupert Frankincense." Rupert reached forward and grabbed Jairo's limp hand from his side and moved it up and down a couple times. "Ah, I suppose you wouldn't know about handshakes."

   Jairo raised an eyebrow and took his hand back.

   "Frank's sense?" he asked.

   "No. Frank-in-cense, it's a plant," Rupert replied.

   "I am Jairo of Alda," he said quietly.

   "Really? The tribe in the desert started with an R in their name or something..."

   "That would be Ren."

   "I didn't know there was another tribe," the man said, intrigued.

   "There isn't," Jairo said. "When in lack of a tribe name, one is to use their family name."

   "Why aren't you in a  tribe?" the old man's face furrowed with lines, confused.

   "Why do you think?"

   "Got lost?" Jairo shook his head.

   "Kidnapped?"

   Jairo made a noncommittal motion. "It happened along the way, but no."

   "Expedition?"

   "No. An expedition by myself, really?" Jairo said, exasperated. "Exiled is the word."

   "Oh! Um, for what?"

   "For failing the rite of passage, into manhood."

   "Jeez, that's harsh," Rupert said. "Maybe some of the stories are true..." he started mumbling.

   Jairo gave him another look and he promptly closed his mouth.

   "So why have you brought me here? You could've left me for dead wherever you found me."

   "I," said Rupert, subconsciously tugging on his cloak which wasn't there, and cleared his throat into his fist when he realized his mistake. "Well, do your people have a healer, shaman, doctor?"

   "Naa."

   "No? Well then-"

   "No, we do. His name is Naa."

   "I see. Well, I'm the doctor of Astis." he said, again spreading his arms. "I found you on the riverbank when I was collecting herbs, and-"

   "What are herbs?"

   "Uh...plants... used for making certain mixtures and such to heal people. As I was saying, I found you by the river, which is where the desert ends, and I got to you right after you passed out."

   "Well, the position as tribal, er, town healer, no wonder you're so rich." Jairo commented, looking around at all the wood, and at the uncovered basin. "Where's the lid for that basin?"

   "Uh, it doesn't have a lid." Jairo looked at him weird again. Water wasters. No wonder no one else lived in the desert like his people. The bandits were at least dark-skinned like he was, these people were almost alien.

   "And, I'm not exactly rich. Just one room for the whole house, well, minus the cellar, with a single door and a single window!"

   "How?" Jairo asked incredulously. "Wood is hard to come by!"

   Rupert chuckled. "I can imagine so in the Foore desert, but around here there are a lot more trees, and a lot more wood to go around. The atmosphere is cooler, a lot cooler, and more humid. A lot more water. You're a long way from your environment, Jairo."

   "Is that wooden panel a door?" Rupert nodded. "Is that translucent material a window?"

   "Well, the hole in the wall and the glass."

   "Glass..." murmured Jairo. That's what it was.

   "What? You seen glass before?"

   "Yeah."

   "How?"

   Jairo nearly told him about his gift before catching himself. Don't trust him. "Uh, a trader came in one day with some," he lied quickly.

   Rupert looked at him and nodded. "Indeed."

   "What is a riverbank?"

   "The edge of a river." And before Jairo asked, Rupert interrupted with his answer. "A river is a moving body of water. Lots and lots of water. Moves from high places to low places."

   Jairo made a small exclamation. An awkward silence grew. Rupert exhaled slowly.

   "So... what now?" Jairo asked.

   "Oh?" Rupert asked, as if snapped out of a reverie. "Well, as my patient, I am going to make sure you heal up until you're completely recovered. And I will introduce you to the world of the white man, since your exiled life seems to be behind you."

   Jairo nodded silently, then turned to stare into the flames. Rupert began to bundle up again.

   "I'll be back in about, um, rell minutes or so," he said, and left, closing the door behind him.

Author's Note

The heavy blanket is a patchwork quilt. Cloth animals are sheep. The leather bundles are medieval books. Due to the base 11 number system with rell, it's really the seventeenth birthday, the day his tribe made boys into men. Rupert's cloak is a trenchcoat with gloves. The black sandals are boots, the round hat is a bowler hat.