A/N (most

) Spelling mistakes are on purpose in this part.
Day 415
‘You have returned to us. Have you found the Lost Prophecies?’
‘We have. Here they are,’ I said, while carefully taking the brittle ancient books from my bag and gave them to Nibeni. For several moments she stared at the books and then handed them back to me reverently.
‘You are going to have to read them to me untill I can memorise them.’
I blinked incredulously. The Wise Woman of the Urshilaku is an illiterate?
Nibeni picked up on my apprehension and explained.
‘We Ashlanders do not believe in the written word, ever since the tribes have settled here, legends, stories and prophecies have been passed on from generation to generation by the spoken word. It may not be the best way but books get lost or get burned. Words can never be stolen or destroyed.’
‘Well, let’s get started then,’ I enthusiastically said. Who was I to criticise a tradition sustained for millenia?
Hours later, she was confident she could memorise all that had gone lost to the tribes.
‘Leave me now, while I seek guidance from the ancestors and overthink the prophecies. Return to me when the moons have come and gone.’
‘What do you mean when the moons have come and gone? A day or a month?’ I asked but Nibeni had started humming an un-understandable chant and waved me away. I shrugged and quietly left her tent. I decided she likely meant a day, surely she wouldn’t need a month to consult the ancestors. To make sure I wouldn’t disturb her too early I stayed away for two days. That way Zerina and I also had some more time for ourselves, something we’ve had too little of in those last hectic few months of travelling back and fro everywhere.
Two days weren’t enough to return to Ald’ruhn or Balmora so Zerina and I lingered around the camp, thankful for the tent the Urshilaku had put up for us. We hunted, rested and socialised with the tribe, further reinforcing the bond we already had with the Urshilaku. The reservation they had towards Zerina had nearly dissipated and she had been accepted into the tribe almost as much as I was. They must have realised she was as much as a part of me as the prophecies, or even my limbs, were. Without her, I just didn’t feel complete.
‘Why won’t you shell me your shlave?’ Sul Matuul asked me the first night of our short holiday. ‘She’d be better off with me anyway. With a real man,’ he bragged.
The Ashkhan and I had gotten of on a bad start when we had first met but we spend many hours drinking and laughing into the small hours. It was my honour to call him my friend.
“I told ya before.. hic. She’sh no my prope- proppy- ,’ I sloshed. ‘I don’t own her.’
‘Yer no fun,’ he pouted. ‘Have another drink,’ he laughed and held out the bottle of saltrice-wine. By that time, I was too intoxicated to refuse and had him refill my cup.
And so it continued untill we both passed out and felt sorry for ourselves the next day after. Of course, the women had no sympathy for our poor state the following morning. In fact; some were complaining about our “singing” keeping them awake, which we had no recollection on. Sul Matuul and I had just looked at each other sullenly and had burst out in laughter. And both regretted that the very same moment when the smithy in both our head made its presence painfully clear.
‘Hair of the dog?’ Sul suggested. Since we hadn’t much else better to do I accepted.
Zerina actually joined us. I presumed to keep an eye out on us both so we wouldn’t misbehave again that night.