(217) Red Feather – 8

“Rethinking your life now, are you?” Kersath said softly without a trace of sarcasm or pity.

“A bit, yeah,” Kre responded.  He briefly wondered what tribe Kitalia was from and that led him to wonder if he’d ever see her again.  “Kersath?”

“Hmm?”

“How many tribes are there?”

“Dozens really.  Maybe even in the hundreds.  Though only a handful of major tribes that hold most of the power.  The rest are minor tribes that are generally allied to one or more of the major ones.”  He shrugged, “The Ylveryan way is fluid.  Sometimes tribes die out and sometimes new ones are born.  We do not stagnate like your people do but that also makes it difficult to keep track.”

“What tribe are you from?”

Kersath chuckled again, “I do not suppose we have a word in your tongue for my tribe’s name, but I suppose you would say we are the tribe of the night.  We are of the darkness, of the deep.  My tribe is older than most, one of the first.”

Before Kre could inquire further, Kersath continued, “We are all thus marked,” he said, gesturing to his skin.  “The empty moon is our patron, and our skin reflects that light.”

It all seemed very strange to Kre, who was still trying to figure out how to mentally parse the words that Kersath was saying.  It wasn’t that it didn’t make sense, it was just that it was a lot to process all at once, especially for a mind that was already working double time to process the events of the last several days.

“You should consider yourself lucky,” Kersath continued with his usual smile, “very few Tehynshins know that my tribe even exists, let alone have met one in person.”

“Is it a secret?” he asked tentatively.

Kersath considered the question for a long moment before he shrugged.  “I am not sure.  It is perhaps more of a preference.  Your people do not react well to those who do not look as they do, think as they do, or have abilities that they cannot fathom.”

Kre nodded, his mind racing with all sorts of random images and thoughts.  He shook his head to clear it and nodded once, coming to a personal resolution.  “I shall consider it a secret then.  The last thing I’d want is for someone to misunderstand what I’ve told them and turn it into a campaign of hate and fear against your tribe.  Thus, I am honored to be trusted with that knowledge,” Kre replied solemnly.  He wasn’t sure if that was an appropriate response, but it seemed to satisfy Kersath or, at the very least, amuse the black-skinned Ylveryan.

“Why are you guys helping me?”  It was the question foremost in Kre’s mind since this whole event began, but he was too afraid to ask it for fear of an answer he wouldn’t like.

Kersath shrugged again, “Beleg has told you of how our company began.  We are used to taking in strays that are lost in the woods.”

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