The Etra Anthology

194th of Gnielm, 335 EA

Kuggdwal, Danai

At the center of the earthen den there was a kist, squared at it’s edges, lock freshly enchanted, packed neatly and deliberately, and with space left just empty enough to fit one last keepsake.

The rest of the room around the traveling case was a flurried wreck, scattered leave-behinds tossed in a frantic search. Snekde’de moved quickly, he had always been quick, searching and searching and searching again.

“Sneke,” Kotlo’s voice came softly from the entryway, packed and fired clay rimmed by rustic wood hanging over his head. Snekde’de had only ever known his father in his frailty, only ever seen him move gently. He was a sheer comfort. “What is the matter, my boy? Your clutchins have just arrived.”

“It’s nothing, I,” Sneaked’de continued to rummage through the room he shared with the other children of the warren, digging through piles of clothes and stacks of papers and all other manner loose collections. He shook slightly as he spoke. “I just can’t find my jotter, that’s all. I can’t find my notebook, and I really wanted to be all packed early tonight so that I don’t need to worry or hold the caravan up tomorrow morning, I just wanted to put it away that’s all.”

He wasn’t looking at his father, but the spiraling hunt drew the boy into his vicinity, and before he heard another word her felt the scales of a weathered hand on his shoulder and then a thin-armed hug around his side. It was enough to give him kind pause. 

“Please, son.” The words were not pleading. “Come up to the pantry. Ete has cooked well for us.”

Snekde’de felt himself release the air he had not realized he had been holding in his lungs.

“Yes,” He said, “Yes that sounds nice.”

He let his father take the crook of his arm, and was lead out into the warren.

“She made your favorite.” Kotlo smiled conspiratorially as they passed along the long carved and steadily branching halls. “Katsu.”

“With rabbit, like I like it?” Snekde’de’s eyes went round. “With the little bits of fennel in the rice?”

“Yes, with rabbit and fennel.” Kotlo nodded, blinking slowly first with one eye then the other as they approached the comforting sounds of chatter filtering down.

They crested into the open chamber which served as pantry, kitchen, and dining room alike for the family. 

There were nineteen gathered in total; Kotlo joined Snekde’de’s mother Nevi, kneeling at a low-set table. In a corner three cousins Kirn, Heppe, and Gorto wrestled gayly over a toy. His uncle Kupli was there, carrying an an oversized steambasket of rice with his partner Mahse and his partner’s partner Snugs. Each of them hoisted one comically large handle, ferrying the precious food across to the line where they would serve. His auntie Kilot and his great auntie Elbe had come in together, and his cousins Morki, Adru, Dov, Snern and Vugri kept respectfully behind them. His grandmother Kikbo was talking with her sibling Guus and their cousin Vahza who was dressed quite extravagantly in comparison to everyone else. Ete, who was not quite his sister but whose expectant clutch would surely call him uncle, stood at the heatbearing pan that he had enchanted as a practice project when he had first began his studies, tending to the victuals.

Lastly now, Snekde’de himself was there, and his arrival was met with small cheers. He was the reason they had all gathered that night, even though they really didn’t need a reason to gather.

The ensuing dinner was nothing short of perfectly pleasant. He would leave on the morrow, bound for the Citadel of the Athalial League, and for that great achievement he was given one final night of overwhelming and unconditional support.

At the end of the evening, under the low candle lights as he and his cousins helped to clean up the dishes, he felt a gentle hand against his wingblade.

“Don’t worry over this,” Kotlo said, “It is okay. Your cousins can take care of it. You should go find your journal, finish your packing.”

“It’s okay.” Snekde’de said, looking up from wiping a glass warm from the wash. Behind his father he saw the home he had grown up in, the people he loved, and knew that even though it would change in his absence it would all still be there for him should he need it. “I’ll start a new one.”

And with that, Snekde’de walked on to Athal.