[PotN] Dhokien Storyline Entries

Dhokien would not have called the small farmstead at the edge of Courvil their home if anyone had asked. The wooden house stood in the middle of wide fields of leafy green crops, beneath a deep blue sky streaked with white clouds. It was as different from their childhood home as anything, and yet they knew it far better now than they did the streets of any city in Grandiaga.

By their side Oliver, for once, walked alongside them in silence. It was not the first time that they had accompanied them here, and they supposed there was a limit on how many times you could get excited to see a farm.

Then, a large green form stepped onto the path before them.  Oliver was off with a shouted, “Heddyl!”, and with that Dhokien’s hopes for a quiet afternoon vanished.

“Oliver!”  The green nir grinned.  She did not stagger even a step as they bounded over and leaped into her thick mane.   She shot a pointed look at Dhokien from over Oliver’s head.  “I didn’t realize you two were in Sarthia!  Do I really need to remind you that letters exist?”

“We were just passing through,” Dhokien flicked their ears.  It wasn’t quite a lie—they hadn’t decided to visit Heddyl until they’d already gotten deep into the Amber Domain.  It wasn’t like they’d travelled all this way only to see her.

“I see,” Heddyl shoved Oliver gently with a mud-streaked paw, “well, the company’s nice, regardless.  Provided you don’t mind helping with the fields tomorrow.”

Dhokien cut off Oliver’s groan with an “of course”.  It wasn’t often they were the one dragging the kid into something, and a petty part of them couldn’t help but be smug about it.

Heddyl walked with them the rest of the way along the path and up to her front door.  She and Oliver spoke idly of what had happened since their last visit. Dhokien only spoke up to interrupt some of their wilder tales, and was otherwise content to allow Oliver to speak for them both.

For her part, Heddyl made no attempt to force them to talk more than they wanted. They had known each other for a long time, and perhaps it was her respect for their reticence that kept them coming back, year after year.  And though they never said as much aloud, they appreciated that.  They supposed that Oliver did the same, in their own way.  They never much minded having wholly one-sided conversations.

Heddyl’s home was humble but cozy.  Though nothing within was particularly ostentatious, she kept her house in good repair.  It was a sight better than many of the places Dhokien had slept recently.

Once they had settled in and Heddyl washed up from her gardening, they decided to work together to cook a meal.

Though they had been travelling with Oliver for close to five years now, it continued to surprise Dhokien how much better they had gotten at cooking. Despite possessing the ability to make fire at any time,  Dhokien had eaten their food raw more often than not. Oliver’s complaints about plain, boiled meats and vegetables had forced them to learn to get peace at mealtimes.

Back outside, they carved a rune beneath one of Heddyl’s large cooking pots, while Oliver and Heddyl collected ingredients from inside.  Though she maintained a large garden, few of the plants Heddyl grew were suitable for eating, and most of what was carried out were items from Courvil’s markets.

Great clouds of rich-smelling steam rose from the pot as sliced meats and vegetables, followed by generous spoonfuls of spices, were tossed in.

Oliver climbed onto Dhokien’s back to stir their dinner, chatting away with Heddyl the whole time.  Even she could not keep up with Oliver and eventually began to just nod and make attentive noises.

When their meal was ready and eaten, they retired indoors for the evening.

…

Hours later, Dhokien lay awake in Heddyl’s small guest room.

Night hung full and dark overhead, but sleep eluded them.  Careful not to wake Heddyl or Oliver, they rose from their bedding and padded through the house.  A few wooden boards creaked under their paws, but no one else stirred as they stepped back outside.  The moon and stars overhead were bright enough for them to see well into the distance.

Their gaze turned towards the west. Heddyl’s fields vanished out into a thick jungle a few yards off, and beyond that, they could see nothing, but they knew what lay beyond it.

Isiar.

There was no place in Terran they hated more.  But still, they could not help the thought that from here, it would only take a few days to reach that cursed place.  A few days of rough travel through Sarthia’s tangled tropical forests, but all the same... it was odd to think that people could live regular lives so close to the peninsula.

Dhokien snorted.  They were not sure what had them feeling so sentimental.  With a shake of their head and a mutter, Dhokien turned around and walked back inside.

If the gods were merciful, they would sleep through the night.