Day 48,

I don’t by any means regret the trek to the cavern, but I’m pretty sure my back is going to be sore for days.

By contrast, I should have guessed that Cass would be in irritatingly good health by comparison.  Not sure if she had a comparatively lighter load than me due to being a child or is simply in better shape than me.  Definitely the second at least and probably both.  Benefit of growing up working on a farm I suppose.

I’d left the archive unlocked last night on a correct guess that she’d once again be up before me and not wanting to keep her waiting out on the street.  I swear it’s not my intent to keep using her as an alarm clock.  I blame whatever past archivist or architect put a bed in an underground windowless room in a Village with no clocks.  I’d tell her to just wait longer before coming over, but at this point I’m starting to think she enjoys holding it over me.  Case in point, this morning when I was slower than normal to emerge from the hidden chamber she stood outside and started reading off the requests that had piled up over the past couple days and that she had grabbed on her way in.

She was halfway through the fourth address when I finally pushed the door open and dragged myself out, hair still disheveled and rapidly donned clothes askew.  My probably-not-very-threatening attempt at a glare was met by that signature smug grin as she handed over the sheaf of papers.

As I got myself a bite and a drink to further wake I handed my apprentice (seriously though, with how I just sort of got thrown into this she’s probably about as qualified as I am by now) the notebook I’d made my more meticulous observations of the cavern in yesterday and asked her to read through it and let me know if she noticed anything I’d missed or had different interpretations of things.

This led to a discussion of and speculation about what the crystals are and how they form, which she admitted she’d not really thought of before, simply taking them for granted as a fact of life.  I don’t remember which of us originally proposed it, but I think my favorite theory we came up with was that they might not actually be rocks but something kind of like coral, just unusually geometric and bioluminescent.  It was the weird tingly water that both dissolved dead crystals but grows new ones that got us on that train of thought.  Like, maybe there’s microorganisms in that water that clump into rigid structures as part of their life cycle or something.  It’s a bit out there though given how much they really do look and feel like rocks and generations of villagers viewing them as such.  No idea how we’d even go about testing that theory.  Maybe a microscope, but Cass was unfamiliar enough with the concept that I’m not sure they have those here.  I’ll need to look into that sometime.

But anyway, the rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent finding the requested info and volumes to check out and then making those deliveries.  The two most interesting parts of all that were a young couple wanting their declaration of intent to wed recorded (they haven’t figured out a date yet) and a man whose name escapes me at the moment asking for a storytelling at an upcoming get together with some friends.  The latter wasn’t the original request but came up while making small talk during the delivery.

Deliveries done with I declared an early end to the day in favor of walking Cass back home in time for dinner.  She insisted she could get back on her own just fine, but I pointed out that while that’s probably true, I have a responsibility for her and that I’d look bad if she showed up on her own.  And besides, I do actually care about her even if she can be a smug little brat.

And if we left the Village a bit early for the stated intent of arriving in time for dinner, the truth was I was still worn out from yesterday and didn’t feel like doing much else.  The leisurely pace we took helped even that out a bit though.  And so we returned home from this most recent adventure in much the same way we started it, walking along the road talking once again about the prospects of a floating island camping trip.  One concern that we’d overlooked last time and weren’t totally sure how to handle was the possibility of the island’s schedule leading to us being there for a mist night.  Neither of us were sure if the shades would even appear on a floating island given how they tend to look like they’re sinking into the ground when they disappear (or so they say, neither of us had actually seen that ourselves).  But if they did appear we wouldn’t have any protection from them.  Unless maybe tents count as being indoors?  Or maybe if there actually was a structure on the island it would work?  But if it was abandoned and potentially ruined, would that count?  Well, I suppose Maiko had been using the old archivist’s house on mist nights before I moved in.

And that was how I accidentally told someone about Maiko for the first time.  This of course fascinated Cass who had never heard of someone like her before and sent her on speculation of what the horned woman might be.  Cass’s preferred guess was that Maiko was another outsider.  I’ll admit that possibility had crossed my mind, but given how skittish she seemed to be around people (or at least me) I didn’t want to seem invasive and go prying about that sort of thing the next time I see her.  I figured I’d just be friendly and welcoming and when she wants to open up she’ll do so, and I told Cass as much.  And out of that same respect for Maiko’s apparent choice to avoid other people I asked Cass to not tell anyone about her or go looking for her.  Or for that matter, don’t suddenly start asking around about people with red skin and horns lest others start asking questions in return.  I’m pretty sure I can trust Cass with those first two.  The last one I’m more worried about.

By the time she promised not to do those things we were already on the dirt side road and had passed the trail to my house.  Soon we ran into a couple of Cass’s siblings who welcomed us back and told us to go on ahead to the house while they finished up for the day.

This was my first time seeing the home of the family that’s been helping me out in one way or another since my first day.  It was similar in construction to my own cabin that I’d come to call home, albeit large enough to house a family of fourteen rather than the one or two my own is suited for.  Much of that size had the look of expansions that had been added onto over time, perhaps over generations, slight differences in the look of the wood and more obviously seams – for lack of a better word – of unevenness and reinforcement where one section ended and another began.

Antigone came out to greet her daughter and me as we approached and invited me in.  I thanked her for the offer as well as the meals she and James had sent with us.  I’m sure we exchanged more words after that, but to my embarrassment I don’t remember too much more as I ended up falling asleep in an armchair shortly after being offered a seat.  Another impression I’m sure I’ll never live down.

At least this time around I managed to wake up on my own instead of someone needing to wake me.  That much I can thank hunger and the smell of nearly-finished dinner for.  Strangely, my first thought upon waking was being surprised that I could smell.  In that half-awake state I had the strong impression that an unusually poor sense of smell was a trait of mine, but thinking back to actual experience, both now and since arriving, that’s not actually the case.  Perhaps yet another piece of evidence for this being a new body?

I was spared further existential introspection by one of Cass’s siblings noticing I was awake and standing.  Introductions and small talk followed until the lot of us were called in to eat.

Over dinner I was introduced to the rest of Cass’s siblings whose names I will definitely remember eventually.  But after that the main topic of conversation was our trip accompanying the crystal collectors.  I let Cass take the lead on that, calling it apprenticeship practice for the storytelling part of the Archivist’s job, and chiming in with my own commentary from time to time.  She did a good job of it, although I wonder how she’d do in front of strangers instead of her family.  That said, I’m amazed I’ve done as well as I have with that role.  If anything I seem to be better at that than just talking to people normally.  Will it be the reverse for her who’s normally so self-assured in conversation?  Also, interestingly, while she talked about our encounter with the Wandering God, she left out the part about it seeming to follow us for the rest of the day.  I suppose she didn’t want her parents to worry, and I didn’t call her out on it.

It was all received well, and her family all seemed happy that she’d enjoyed herself.  Antigone even made a comment about joining the collectors if the archivist apprenticeship didn’t work out.  I’m not sure if that was a joke, a slight, or a simple statement of options.

All in all, it was a good dinner, and although it was dark by the time it was over, I was feeling better rested and more energized than I had all day and was confident enough that I could make the relatively short walk back to my house alone by lantern light.

Halfway back when I started hearing and seeing movement in the fields I was less sure of that assessment.

I never did get a clear glimpse of whatever it was, just a rustling of vegetation on either side of the road that would seem to alternate between being closer and further away, but ultimately keeping pace with me.  I gradually started picking up my pace to just shy of running while forcing myself to breathe steady and calm as I could manage, wanting to get indoors quickly but not wanting to give the impression of fleeing prey.

The worst part came after I left the fields behind and the stalking movements transferred to the outskirts of jungle undergrowth lining the road.  Not only was it now abundantly clear that I was being actively followed if not hunted as opposed to this being some creature of the fields watching me in its territory, but at this point it started a low, droning growl.  It called to mind the guttural vibrating noise of some big cat yet it never stopped for breath, just going on and on.  I almost started to think (as much as I could still coherently do so) less of an animal and more of an engine, yet there was a distinctly wet quality to the noise.  Once I entered the clearing around the front of my house, whatever it was stopped following, although I could still hear that sound up until I opened the door.  I paused only a moment at the cessation before realizing what I was doing and hurrying inside to shut and lock the door behind me.

The next several minutes as I checked the dark house and replaced the crystals I’d removed before leaving were tense ones as I half expected to find something else waiting for me, but I was alone.

With a clearer head now as I’m finishing up my writing for the night, I find myself wondering if this was yet another trick by the nature sprite.  Then again, it usually reveals itself by the end of its more confrontational pranks like this.  Then again, again, if it enjoys scaring me, then leaving that uncertainty would be a good way to do it.  Especially if I didn’t react dramatically enough for its liking.

But by now I think I’ve both calmed myself and worn off whatever refreshment I had from that earlier nap.  Time to sleep.