Vacorian

Sit, sit.

I said SIT. DOWN.

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Please, forgive my accent. It has been many of our long lives since we have had...guests and my command of the...common tongue is not what it was. There are not many visitors to the dark, secret places of this world, and fewer by far of such places that we may view the Great Mystery that surrounds us. You may call me Kieldet, child of Varra.

 

I see you were mid meal, and yet this poor thing looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks. You say she won’t eat? TCHKT! And that has no connect with the binds on her wrists so tight she bleeds. The young are always feeding. A Vacorian bound and chained like a beast of burden. Gromm’s teeth, you are lucky it is Kieldet, child of Varra who has found you. Other Vacorian may not wish to be....speaking with you right now.

 

This word, that you use for us, do you know the song of it? Ah….you would perhaps say, where it comes from? I see. It is derived from our ancient word Vakkor, which is a foundation word for protector, strength, virtue, and perhaps most importantly, family. It is most closely related to the word for Mother, but in polite conversation, we feel like that is perhaps a vanity too far. So, we refer to ourselves as The People, or if we are trying to remember the best of ourselves, The Good People.

 

We of the unseen places, we of the mystery, have lived many spans of our long lives without meeting any of the other children. In times past, we strode over the skin of the Mother as numerous and freely as you, fostering great cities and works. If you may permit me another conceit, there was one among us who remembered each of your arrivals, but he is lost high in his final aerie watching over us. Some believe he is father to us all, and in this thinking they would not be completely incorrect, as he has shepherded us from the very beginning.

 

Since you have made it this far into the caves, and past the merciless and rogue Vakir that sleeplessly watches over us all, I will tell you a thing: The People are blessed with long lives, some of the longest that the Mother bequeaths unto her children. However, such longevity comes at a price; the People must each spend 100 spans as a beast before they may earn the right to give themselves a name. We are all sung a name at the time of our birth, and this is the only name we respond to for those 100 spans. At our second birth, we choose our own names as the madness of youth leaves us. In many ways, this second name is far more powerful than our first, because it is the first thing in our lives that is truly ours.

 

Sah-ah, sah, young one, calm yourself. Your friend here, no doubt a sister of mine, is leading you true to the ore you seek, the...the Gift, the Calm, your word for it is….ah, Void. Yes, we are all, in a way, Seekers of the Void. For you, it is merely money. For us, it is life. It is the way to ascend to our second birth, and we are bent to its focus our entire lives.

 

Here I will leave you, with this young one in tow. The city before you will not stay slumbering long, waking perhaps to disgorge a war party when they see the marks of your binds upon her. To use one so wrathful and helpless in this way, seeking the soul of our knowledge, is….mmmm, your best word for polite company is “uncouth”. If you are wise, you will depart, and quickly. The People are fleet of foot, and if the Vakir catches your scent, it will never cease its pursuit of you. I see you still bear marks from capturing this young one. It would serve you well to know that the difference between her ferocity and mine is that I know what I’m doing.

 

Go, now. Do not return. Vacorians were at your birth. Do not make us attend to your death as well. I wish to sing the Song of Peace at prayer this evening. Death is not a welcome song among us.

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