CHAPTER 008

THE TALK

 

(The Woman’s POV)

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Everything went in a flash. It was like an arrow shot from a bow, flying toward its target. Just run in a straight line and throw two daggers, and then the daggers stabbed themselves at the men while they just stood there and watched their own death. They didn’t even blink while life was leaving their eyes, let alone make a sound. But most important of all…

 

'The damned thing almost killed me. Wicked, demon! I knew I shouldn’t have followed the freaking coat of hell’s deep. The story of my life…'

 

It almost killed me and then put the same dagger that almost stabbed me in the eye into my palm. Its eyes were like a tool, emotionless and dull. Even now, my hands were still trembling. Then, it found the audacity to order me to check the men if they were alive or not.

 

'Alive? Kidding me?'

 

They had two stab wounds on their chests and one dagger still stabbed right in their hearts. No one could live with those wounds but when I checked them and informed their state, it still wanted me to slit their throats, just in case.

 

'Just in case, it said!'

 

Then while I was slitting their throats, just in case, it bolted towards the perimeter of the camping ground to do its thing, leaving me behind with two stinking corpses.

 

'Mercy! This is not the scent of blood. Even cycle-old carrion doesn't stink this bad. The damned dumruls must not have taken a bath in years.’ I thought while slitting their throats and gagging. 

 

There, I almost took pity on them for a moment there for being the object of the wrath of the damned thing instead of me. But now I was just thankful that they are dead, unable to spread their cursed scent on mortal realms anymore. 

 

‘Priorities in life I guess.’

 

Suddenly, I shuddered without a reason as a weird sensation traveled through my spine. There was never an instance in my life that I have felt the cold grip of death this close, and I used to be the girl that took pride in being tin-coated. 

 

‘No, not because it can kill them easily.’ I thought while trying to collect myself. ‘I have already seen him kill and with a much greater display of power than some dagger stabbings. But this time it was much more primal and that is why it was frightening on a whole another level.'

 

It was one thing to have the power to kill someone from afar with flashy lightning, purple flames, and a sound explosion. But it was completely another thing to be able to silently and stealthily paralyze someone while the daggers you throw stabbed themselves and turn your targets into sieves.

 

‘The daggers stabbed themselves, for Kayra’s sake.’

 

While pondering, I started to collect the self-stabbing daggers from the corpses. Both of them were stabbed to the hilt. At first, I thought that the coat itself was an artifact, but these daggers were obviously the ones it has looted from me this morning. Mundane daggers of low-quality iron, but they still flew their targets like herons.

 

Moreover, the dumruls just stood up and died without making a sound or even blinking. Yes, they were definitely paralyzed but not just their muscles. Their lungs throats and even eyelids should have been paralyzed to stand like that without blinking, trembling, and making a sound while the blood flowed through them like a foundation. The things this information implied were… Just ridiculous, or simply…

 

'Impossible!’

 

No one can weave in the cursed lands. Nothing that runs on erke works, not even artifacts. These lands were and are called cursed for a reason. There is no erk in this place. Everything from humans, animals, and plants to air, soil, and water was all dry in this damned piece of land. Devoid of erk. 

 

‘No erk, no perk say the crones, and for an obvious reason too. Not even demons should be an exception.’ 

 

Just in case I checked my core and as I have already expected, found nothing. Just like I said... Dry! But there it was, standing as a testament to everything that I was thought to. Mocking even deities themselves. 

 

While I was cleaning the daggers on the clothes of the dumruls absentmindedly for a far longer time than it was necessary, it checked the perimeter of the camp, the yurt under the shade, the small cave, and the view below. Then it continued doing its thing. Sometimes just staring at things, sometimes murmuring short words in that weird language.

 

After some time, it too must have felt hunger and thirst and was forced to stop peering on a large rock with some shade and a good view to rest and recuperate. Only after that, it has told me to walk down towards the first vantage point to collect our belongings. 

 

‘No, my belongings! Center yourself Yesim. It is not the time to be confused.’ I thought while taking one of the swords with its sheath belt and one of the spears of the newly dead.

 

‘Haha, newly dead. Loneliness must have started to hit me on the head. Damn, my nerves started getting loose after being tense for so long. I hope I just don't burst into laughter out of the blue. ’ 

 

Then I tucked the daggers I just recovered from the corpses into my waistband too while keeping my eyes on the damned thing.

 

It did not oppose, not even throw a glance. Thus I started to walk downwards, slowly. But only until I left its eyesight. Then I increased my pace.

 

My heart was pounding in my ears in excitement.  As soon as I was far enough I took a hasty sprint downhill. I was finally free with my life just after half a day of torturous march and ran away from the damn thing with all my power. 

 

I had weapons on me, far better armed than even before I was captured, and all my belongings were waiting for me to grab at the low vantage point.

 

‘Except the all the money I painstakingly collected over all those years and those two cravens stole.’ I thought suddenly feeling not so happy. Still, I was alive. I could simply take anything I want and leave the damned thing right there alone. 

 

‘Yerlik takes the old crones and their stories about fortunate encounters and endless opportunities. I almost lost my mind.’ I thought. 

 

I ran towards the clearing with my heart in my mouth. I was free, free finally but not at ease. Something in my head was saying that it can't be that easy and that running away was the wrong choice.

 

The damned thing could have killed me at any time but didn’t do so. It even let me keep the weapons. I still found it hard to believe that it didn't realize my intention of running away, not when it was obviously reading my mind that is.

 

Still, it turned a blind eye while I was taking the daggers, a sword, and a spear.

 

'Does it not see me as a threat?’ I thought feeling a little bit dejected. 

 

‘Hah, stupid girl! Could you pose even the tiniest amount of threat to it? Alone, deep in the cursed lands without your ever so precious erk?’

 

Then my mind drifted towards the fortunate encounters and endless opportunities. If I could run away and sell this information to the right people, it would cause earthquakes in the okul. No, don't think small Yesim, think big. The whole evren...

 

I would surely be treated like a forerunner and offered a huge remuneration for the knowledge. Then I would not be the wallflower. No, I would be the one that chooses, whether it is partners, masters, and even clans.  

The only question was, with whom should I trust this information? Who would not only take all the credit but also not try to silence me? Obviously not Kutay. The pervert would not wait for a heartbeat to sell me to the highest bidder.

 

‘No, he would wait for some time, but only to have his own way with me. I must think of someone else.'

 

Tansu would take all the credit herself and make his husband take me as the third to keep everything. I don't even want to think about Bengu, Ertan, or Ediz. 

 

‘There is no one that I can trust with something like this,  isn't it? Those damn perverts kill their own father and sell their own mother to keep something like this.’ More like painting their own mother and selling her to their father, but close enough. 

 

Now, there was  Gorkem. Although he was a horny bastard, at least he was not someone that forces himself on people. However…

 

‘That idiot would simply get himself killed along with me by his simple and trusting nature.’ I thought and then realized that I was almost wheezing. 

 

‘Wait a moment. Why am I still running in the first place?’

 

I slowed down my pace and eventually started to walk down toward my destination. When I arrived, I immediately took my backpack, duffel, and sacks. I was ready to depart in moments. Then ironically I stood there, rooted, still not being able to decide what to do.

 

After an unknown amount of time, I collected the remaining luggage and started to walk towards the camp, towards the thing that inspires the utmost terror in my heart. I don’t know how, but I had a feeling that I will not see the light tomorrow if I decide to leave right now.

 

Even if he didn’t kill me, someone or something is going to do it before dawn. I have no idea why I felt like that but I was certain of it. It was an extremely unsettling feeling, like a premonition, and I simply shuddered even from the thought of it.

 

'Is it the effect of that thing's mental powers? Can he affect my mind from even this distance?' I thought.

 

Obviously, it was stupid to return to that monster in human skin with my own two feet. Even Kutay was better than that thing, right? 

 

With these thoughts in mind, I walked slowly and eventually arrived at the campsite to find it, no it won't do, him…  'I should slowly make myself accustomed to this thinking if I want to stay alive, right?'

 

I find him sitting beside the fire and eating some dried meat he skewered on a wooden stick to roast. I dropped my load near the campfire and sat on the opposite side of him. Grabbing my knees, I waited for him to do his thing while watching the cursed fire silently.

 

‘Orange, red, and yellow. Cursed flames of seven hells. Not, like his… His flame was purple. Not the cleansing blue flame of Goktengri, not the cursed red flame of Yerlik. It was purple, bright purple in fact.'

 

He took my tin-lined copper pot on the smaller side from the backpack, washed it with some water by rubbing his nails on the surface, and then started to heat the insides of the pot on the fire. Then he scooped some stew from the pot of the dumruls with the wooden ladle in it. 

 

‘I don't even want to know what kind of meat those scum were using for the stew. It can even be human meat for all I know.’ I thought trying not to gag. Not that it would make a difference for the damned thing.

 

No, Yesim. That won't do. That is not a thing but a person. Even if it is not, you must present yourself like it is -no-  he is a person. 'Call the bear uncle until you cross the bridge.'

 

After feeding the fire with more wood from the pile in the small cave, he removed the iron pot of the dumruls from the fire and put my tin-lined pot on it. He boiled the already hot stew while waiting and murmuring gibberish as he heated one of the daggers on fire until it turns red. Then he let the dagger cool down, only to use it to carve something from wood. A spatula? Spoon?

 

After he finished his job, he started to eat the stew with his freshly carved… Spoontula?.

 

I watched him all this time, holding my knees, without a sound. I waited while trying to give meaning to his actions. He finished eating. Then cleaned the pot and the not-spoon with some water. Filled the pot with fresh water, only to heat it again.

 

Then my mind started to wander again. I haven’t seen any trace of the corpses of the dumruls. No bloodstains on the rock surface either. I wondered what he did with them.

 

‘At least he is not eating human flesh.’ I thought. Maybe he did but obviously not obligated to do so. ‘Yeah, returning was the right choice. This was the fear of the dark, the fear of the unknown. Not the erk-inspired fear of the supreme. 

 

He boiled the water and waited for it to cool down to drink. I couldn’t help but think that it would taste awful.

 

After finishing, he took the not-spoon and my precious tin-lined pot and put them away. After he was filled and rested, he gestured at the dumruls’ pot with his head, as if letting me eat only after he finished, like some kind of wild animal.

 

Although I had some snacks on the climb before, I was still hungry. But still, I couldn’t bring myself to eat right now. My mind was on wings, not stopping thinking about the possibilities and plausibilities. He waited some more but when he saw me not moving to eat, he started to ask his questions again. But this time everything was different.

 

He mentioned some kind of agreement, talking inside my mind. ‘A pact as an award.’ he pointed. For what was he awarding, I had absolutely no idea. Then ‘The truth will set you free.’ he added with that icy tone of his.

 

'Would he set me free if I gave the right answers?’ I thought involuntarily. ‘Was that all?’ Now that I have decided to stay I was obviously not as enthusiastic as I thought I would be just before. It was ironic in more than one way, anticlimactic too.

 

‘What if he is talking about killing me after he got his answers?’ I thought for a moment. ‘That would definitely be a way of setting me free, right?’ At least setting my soul free of my worldly shell.

 

‘But he already can read my mind, right? Why need truth when you can get it through unsuspecting minds? Is there a limit to his power? Did he use too much and is weak now? Still, it was too dangerous to try to do anything rash. He may just be testing me or worse, baiting me. After I have given my consent, we talked in accordance with the agreement.

 

He asked a question, and I answered it. I asked a question and he answered, or mostly answered. His answers were always cryptic and short. Sometimes not an answer but rejection for one even. But even that was better than his silence like before.

 

I asked why I was not killed on the spot. ‘Curiosity’ he mused warmly. Then, ‘Tallion’ he added but with that ice-like tone this time. 

 

'What should I name his not-sound in my head.? Voice? Tone? Sound?’ I pondered. 

 

Obviously, I was spared due to not harming him while he was vulnerable. Moreover, just as I was not killed, I was not tortured, raped, or even humiliated, but tied down and searched, in a very handsy way, I must add. 

 

‘Frisking’ he said while I remembered how he groped me without even a hint of lust in his eyes. He did not take pleasure. That was for sure… Just did it because it needed to be done.

 

He even added that he did not search thoroughly, not wanting to humiliate me with a strip or cavity search. I was relieved that he didn't search me thoroughly, like the way he implied.

 

On the other hand, when I remembered the lack of emotion while he was frisking me, I must say, It hurt my confidence a little bit. Obviously, I was not even a woman in his eyes, or maybe he was into men.  Was he even human?

 

'The damned thing can read your mind  Yesim, for Aman's sake!’ I groaned internally. ‘Just be glad for once.' 

 

I saw that kind of searching was done on slaves and heard that it was sometimes done to prisoners of war from elders. Obviously, he didn’t want to humiliate me more than necessary, not that I hid diamonds and jades inside myself. Although I don’t know my status as a captive, I was sure that I was not taken as a prisoner of war for there was no war in the first place.

 

Still, the man must be a soldier, a recently defeated and humiliated one looking at his short hair and his ire towards the Coquet's hair. But surprisingly I was not afraid of the idea of being a prisoner to a foreign soldier. A foreign demon soldier though? Now that was unsettling. 

 

With the thing he did to my mind, he has obviously a way to make you trust your captors or maybe lower your vigilance.

 

'Terrifying but convenient indeed.' I thought. I knew I was being coerced but it was better than being tortured. 

 

I knew his powers were growing on me. Still, it was not too bad to be treated like this instead of some pretty face to be dominated and discarded. It was thrilling even.  

 

After I relaxed a little and served myself with some stew ‘What is your name?’ I asked. Then the conversation somewhat grew serious and his tone become icy and distant again. 

 

‘Pinhan’ was his answer. ‘What is yours?’

 

Bad luck indeed! Just when I was thinking that it was the right time to ask questions that would clear my suspicions. Alas, what kind of name was that? Did it have a meaning?

 

‘My name is Yesim.’ I answered easily and ‘Where do you come from?’ tried to continue the conversation, but there was no way now that he was with that icy tone again.  

 

‘You don’t need to know.’ he cut immediately as I expected. 

 

‘Here he goes again. Not answering half of my questions.’ I thought frustratedly but tried my luck one more time. ‘Is it far?’

 

But he dodged the shot immediately, without any tact. ‘You said we are in the land of the damned, right?’

 

‘Sure, just change the topic. Wasn’t it one question one answer in turns?’ I thought but didn't try to convey the message. Sure he could read my mind but that was exactly what I was hoping for. 

 

‘Cursed lands… Land of The Damned… Whatever you call it works anyways.’ I answered his question as if nothing happened. 

 

‘Cursed?’ he asked again, curiously this time.

 

‘The Exile… The Cursed… The Damned… The Condemned… The Convict… The Unwanted… Sometimes even The Abandoned…’ I lined up quickly.

 

Then he asked the most important question. ‘Why are you here then?’

 

‘Yeah, why the seven hells am I here alone with a demon in human skin, trying to humor him so that he does not eat me alive in the first place?’ I mocked myself mercilessly. Obviously, I couldn’t convey these thoughts as well. 

 

‘Pilgrim’ I answered absentmindedly. ‘I am a pilgrim.’ That was the cover of greed. Each outer disciple of the okul must spend at least a year in pilgrimage, three if possible, and provide resources to the okul so that he or she would be accepted as an inner disciple and maybe even gain a master. 

 

‘Just the polite way of saying pay upfront or bugger off.’ I mused internally. Alas, it was an extremely important tradition for those who don't want to lick boots or lay under someone for an acceptance letter. ‘Those people like me… Not that many appreciated the idea.’

 

‘Pilgrim?’ He asked again, breaking my stupor. ‘No never mind. I don’t want to know.’ 

 

Well, that was interesting. Did he just read my mind and showed compassion right there or simply didn't care?

 

‘Yeah, Yesim. Keep on dreaming. The demon’s compassion… Somewhat it makes me more frightened than its apathy.’ I thought without conveying anything then asked the first question that comes to my mind.

 

‘How old are you?’ Definitely thousands, right?

 

(◊◊◊◊◊◊-◊◊◊) He answered in gibberish, now that was new. 

 

(What does that mean?) I asked naturally.

 

(It is difficult to transfer images of numbers more than the number of fingers you have if two people don’t use the same numeral system.) Now that made sense I think.

 

(I know most of those words but I don’t quite understand what you are trying to say.) I confessed at last and the answer irritated him as expected. 

 

(Doesn’t matter.) It dodged. (How old are you?)

 

(Three fourteen.)

 

(Three fourteen? Forty-two? Three hundred and fourteen? Is that number even expressed in base ten? You look like twenty at the most. This is useless.) it spoke nonsense and continued (Wait a minute! Is this some kind of ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ mismatch or something? What kind of ◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊ do you use?) Then said that gibberish word again but aloud this time. “◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊?”

 

Gibberish again... (What does that mean?) I asked in curiosity. 

 

(Solar? Lunar? How long a year is?)

 

Hey, that is easy. (Eight Sixteen?)

 

(This just gives me headaches. Ok! I give up. We are going to stay here for a while, maybe spend the night here depending on the circumstances. Eat your fill and then try to take a nap. We might stay awake tonight.) He instructed me and stood up.

 

'There goes my chance if I don’t do anything that is.' Immediately I asked the question that was gnawing me from inside.

 

(Erk… What kind is yours?) But I think he didn't get it. 

 

(Kind?) He asked in confusion. 

 

Thus, I explained. (Which road are you walking on?)

 

(Road?) It asked again. 'Damn, this is giving headache to me too. Is he playing the idiot?'

 

(Road… Path… School… Specialization…. Patronage… Summoning, Enchantment, Illusion, Evocation, Transformation?) I lined up hastily and at last, I got an answer...

 

... (None… All…) cryptic as any other. 

 

(What does this mean?) I pressed without a pause. I was really determined to get that answer today. 

 

(It is hard to explain.) It dodged again. Damn thing!

 

(Try!) I pressed but...

 

...it completely shook it off. (Not now.)

 

Then I decided to ask him indirectly. (Just tell me. How is it that you can weave erk inside of the cursed lands?) 'Damn thing!' 

 

(Shouldn’t I be?) He answered immediately without any regard this time. He didn’t deny it, nor did he dodge or delayed. Didn't even mention a tool or artifact use. 

 

'Just an empty hook and he jumped on it. Not even bait was needed. Maybe it was not that of a secret for him as I thought so, or maybe he is trying to cover that he has tools or artifacts inside of his body?'

 

With my rekindled courage, I continued. (You shouldn’t be able to. NOBODY CAN WEAVE ERK IN THE CURSED LANDS. That’s why it is called cursed.) 

 

(Well I can do it. You can do it too. I have seen you cast your will while fighting with the Ponytail.) It tried to hide in the plain site again. 

 

'There goes that will thing again. It has something to do with Erk for sure. He brought that up the last time he asked about erk too.' (That’s different. That was a special place. Now that we are inside of the cursed lands  YOU SHOULDN’T BE ABLE TO WEAVE ERK .)

 

'Let alone weaving, I can’t even feel the erke here. It is just dry like old bark. You are not using artifacts and making fun of me right? No! You don’t have any reason to lie. You didn’t even know what erk is until this morning.'

 

(It doesn’t matter what should have been. What matters is that I can. Enough for now.) He said with false mirth in his eyes, starting to walk towards me. No, probably towards the perimeter through me.

 

I couldn’t contain myself. This thing was definitely weaving inside of the cursed lands and has absolutely no idea what this implied. I stood up immediately and started

 

(WAIT! YOUDON’TUNDERSTAND! THECURSEDLANDSAREDEVOID fERK! THEREISNOTHINGTOWEAVEHERE.)

 

(I SAID ENOUGH!)

 

He growled looking at his forearm with that burning rage from before.

.

.

.

Then I realized.

 

In the heat of the moment, after leaving my bowl and spoon to the side, I must have stepped towards him and grabbed his forearm. I don’t know what got inside of me. It was just so ridiculous and miraculous that I wanted the confirmation, not just cryptic musings.

 

Then again in a moment he changed to that bone-chilling tone again and started to communicate in a slow, calculated manner. I should have left his hand the moment I realized but I couldn’t. I was too perplexed both by my boldness and his sudden change of tone.

 

(DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW THAT MUCH? I AM NOT WEAVING ERK! I AM ERK INCARNATE! REMEMBER THIS AND DON’T OVERSTEP YOURSELF AGAIN OR THERE WOULD BE CONSEQUENCES!)

 

His voice rang in my mind and he roughly released his hand from my grip. I was frozen with shock without any idea what to do.

.

.

.

Even after he left I was still standing and asking myself the same question without a definite answer.

 

‘Why did I do it? I am this tired of living?’