The air grew taut as Aldana stepped forward, her face a mask of icy resolve, her eyes glinting with a cold fire.
"Lumar san du drak," she spat, the words sharp and foreign, slicing through the humid stillness like a blade. The exchange that followed was a rapid argument with their native tongue, incomprehensible to Aldrich and Alan.
For a time, the towering Sylvarith loomed with unyielding authority, his muscular frame a fortress of menace. But gradually, his stance softened, a scoff escaping his lips. With a curt nod, he signaled to the other sylvarith perched high on the branch, who vanished into the shadows with a predator's grace, as if the darkness itself had swallowed him whole.
A shiver raced down Aldrich's spine, his imagination conjuring images of that unseen dagger appearing to stab him from the darkness, and in that moment, the high point value attached to these creatures began to make chilling sense.
"Drop weapons and follow," Aldana commanded, turning to the two, her gaze settling pointedly on Alan, whose sword still hung behind him. Her impatience was a palpable edge, her voice a growl beneath the surface.
"I do not know if that's wise," Alan murmured, his eyes locked on Karlak, whose unrelenting glare bore into them like a promise of violence.
"You listen," Aldana snapped, her tone brooking no argument. "If Karlak want to kill you, that won't save you."
Aldrich's gaze shifted to the broad sylvarith. He did not know how strong Alan was, yet he suspected Aldana was quite right. He wondered about the other, if he lingered still, a phantom in the dark? The thought prickled the hairs on his arms, a cold sweat beading at his neck.
Alan glanced at him, a twitch in his left eyebrow betraying his unease. "You do know this is a terrible idea, right?" he whispered, a nervous edge to his voice.
Aldrich shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the tension. "You're the curious one. Is it worth it for you?" he teased.
Alan laughed, a buoyant sound that bobbed his shoulders up and down. "Aldrich, you're one bold, interesting man," he said, admiration flickering in his green eyes. With a resigned sigh, he unstrapped his sword and let it fall to the earth with a soft thud. "Alright, what's next?" he asked, spreading his arms in mock surrender.
Aldana turned to Karlak, who pivoted and began striding into the jungle's depths. "Follow," she ordered, her voice firm as she fell in step behind him.
The four moved at a reluctant procession, the flame torch casting their elongated shadows across the ground. Soon, they reached a towering fence of bamboo, its span stretching wide and endless, its height dwarfing them into insignificance. At its center stood a wooden gate, crafted from timber stronger than the surrounding walls, a silent sentinel of the settlement beyond.
Karlak whistled, a sharp, piercing note, and a sylvarith's head emerged from atop the wall, his long ears twitching. Recognizing Karlak, he nodded swiftly, but his gaze lingered on Aldana, a pause of recognition softening his features. After a short, respectful bow, one which startled Aldrich and Alan, he called out to someone from within, in their language. The gate creaked open, revealing a world that stole their breath.
Darkness had fully claimed the night, yet the settlement pulsed with life, aglow with yellow lights trapped within wooden lanterns, their slatted designs casting a warm, dappled glow. Sylvarith children darted through the streets, their laughter a bright thread amid the shadows, chasing one another with wild abandon. By a crackling fire, female sylvariths danced, their slender forms weaving to the rhythmic beat of drums pounded by their male kin, the music a primal heartbeat.
At another part, elder Sylvariths drank deeply, their cheers rising as two younglings grappled in a dusty brawl, fists flying with youthful ferocity. As Aldrich and Alan trailed behind Aldana and Karlak, the inhabitants' eyes turned to them. Mostly shock, surprise, and curiosity etching their faces, but none dared approach. Initially, Aldrich attributed this to Karlak's imposing presence, but a second glance revealed the truth. It was not Karlak who commanded this deference, it was Aldana.
Alan, meanwhile, was in his element, a wide grin splitting his dirt-smudged face as he took it all in, soft chuckles escaping him like a child on a grand adventure. The settlement's vibrancy seemed to lift his spirits, his earlier wariness all forgotten. But the journey paused as they reached a colossal house, its structure carved from the heart of a mighty tree, its bark smoothed by time and craft. Without warning, Aldana and Karlak dropped to their knees, their heads bowed. Around them, the gathered sylvariths followed suit, a wave of submission rippling through the crowd.
Aldrich and Alan exchanged a bewildered glance, their uncertainty mirrored in the dancing flames, unsure whether to kneel or stand.
Before either could decide, the carved tree house exhaled a presence, and a male Sylvarith emerged, a colossus dwarfing even Karlak. His frame was a fortress of muscle, barely contained by a skirt of woven leaves akin to the others', the fabric straining against his bulk. A jagged scar sliced across his right eye, lending him the air of a beast carved from the jungle itself.
Aldrich's knees buckled before he could register the motion, his body surrendering to an instinct he couldn't name. Perhaps fear, reverence, or both. His heart thudded a frantic rhythm against his ribs as he stared at the earth, doubt chomping at him. Had coming here been a grave misstep? This man was no mere warrior, he was a monster.
He stole a glance at Alan, bowed beside him, and saw the Highlander trembling, his green eyes wide with terror. The air thickened as the giant's voice rolled out, a thunderclap that shook the leaves.
"Kushak barna kula," he intoned, the words like a deep growl.
"Aok lamine," came Aldana's voice, steady.
Aldrich lifted his head, slow as a man waking from a dream, and saw her risen, no longer kneeling. She stood before the titan, her head barely reaching his abdomen, a contrast to his enormity. A long silence stretched between them, their gazes locked in an unspoken dialogue, until the scarred Sylvarith's lips curved into a soft, unexpected smile.
He enveloped her in a hug, his massive arms gentle yet possessive, and a wave of relief washed over Aldrich. They were close.
That relief soon shattered as the giant turned toward them, his shadow swallowing the light from the flames.
"Stand, humans," he rumbled, his Manora fluent and authoritative.
Aldrich's mind raced. Aldana had learned the language from someone, and this towering figure, with his scarred visage and commanding presence, must have been that teacher. He and Alan rose, legs unsteady, and Aldrich swallowed hard, the man's imposing stature a physical weight against his chest.
"I have not seen your kind in more than two decades," the sylvarith laughed, a thunderous sound that shook the ground.
"I am Jenoka Masa Kuta, king of the Masa tribe. I thank you for bringing my daughter home safely." His palms descended, slapping their backs with a force that made them wince. Even a red core combatant might falter against this beast bare-handed.
"Your journey must have been grueling. Fear not! This shall be a night of celebration! We throw a feast!" Jenoka boomed, his voice a rallying cry. He pivoted to his people, his giant hand resting on Aldana's head.
"Ankar busak hafik!" He declared, then thrust a fist skyward. "Kasa luka shik bul kama!" The settlement erupted, Sylvariths cheering and scattering like leaves in a storm, their movements a frenzied dance of preparation.
Aldrich edged closer to Aldana. "What did he say?" he asked, his voice low.
She turned to him, a soft smile warming her features. "He says a feast will happen, for his daughter has completed her hunt and returned home with friends."