A Day in the Life Challenge: "The Aaaa of Selkama Muna" -- by Benjamin Leskey

The Aaaa of Selkama Muna

Aaaafasi Selkama Muna

In a small city, by the river, sat a little stone house with a large blue pile beside it. The front of the house had a curtained booth with three stools and a small counter with one stool behind it. The rest of the interior, hardly concealed from view of the booth, was not furnished. There was only a small fire pit in one corner and a thin mat in the other corner.

One early morning, the sole occupant of this house was sleeping. He was a long, thin man, stretched out and over the ends of the mat. In his dream, he was bent over trying to count a number of coins and sort them into piles, but someone was standing over him with an upraised whip and he couldn’t turn around to see who it was. He started awake violently, and seeing that it was light, decided to rise now rather than risk continuing the dream which had troubled his sleep for the past few days.

Before preparing for the day, he walked over to the booth and from a drawer under the inside of the counter pulled out a hundred-sided die, about the size of his fist and quite heavy. It was translucent blue, with bold white numbers marking each side. In the center of this die was a round ball weight, ever so slightly skewed and rough.

The man, whose name was Kuyo, tossed the die into a large bowl-shaped indention in the counter. It bounced off some bumps and spikes in the wood and came to a rest at the flat bottom with the number 12 facing up. Kuyo sighed and walked back to the inner room, where he ate a small loaf of bread for breakfast.

Soon the sun had risen entirely above the horizon, and Kuyo went up to the counter, opened the curtains, sat on the stool, and waited.

“Hello sir,” said a burly sunburned farmer, approaching the counter and leaning on it.

Kuyo tapped the die with his finger. “Have you come to seek counsel?”

“Well, yes,” replied the farmer. “So you’re the new aaaa of Selkama Muna, eh? I didn’t hear what happened to Jak, he used to be really helpful here.”

“I am not certain what happened to the previous aaaa,” said Kuyo, “But I was transferred here by Selkama Muna and arrived three days ago by train.”

“Hmm.” The farmer turned and began walking away. “You’re a bit paler than the last one, we’ll have to see...”

“Wait,” called Kuyo, “Didn’t you want counsel?”

The farmer came back to the counter, “Oh yes,” he said. “I do. Can you tell me whether I should cut down that one oak tree today or tomorrow?”

“Shall we say evens for today, odds for tomorrow?”

“Sure, do that.”

Kuyo rolled the die. It bounced around for a few seconds and settled solidly on the number 30. “Today it is,” he said.

“Alright,” said the farmer. “Good day to you.” He continued on down the road.

After an hour without anyone coming by, a young man even taller and more stretched out than Kuyo approached the counter. He was carefully holding a cloth bundle in his hands. An aura of slight uncleanliness surrounded him.

“What have you got there?” asked Kuyo.

“Carving.”

He turned aside and knelt down at the blue pile beside the house. The pile was nearly ten feet high and composed of all things blue. The majority of items were blue fabric and rocks, but there were ribbons, painted wood, paper drawings, bottles of dye, feathers, and more.

The object that the young man uncovered was a small statue of an elegant lady, clothed in dark blue and with skin the color of the sky. The statues eyes were minuscule blue gems, and the hair streamed down in cyan.

“I see,” said Kuyo. “What is your name?”

“Noraska,” replied the carver. He carefully placed the statue in one of the pile’s crevices, below a stiff blue shirt and between two large rocks. “I have brought an image of Selkama Muna, who surpasses both the sun and the moon.”

“It is certainly a excellent carving.”

Noraska swiftly rose and turned in the same motion, bringing a small cloud of dust with him as he leaned over the counter. “It is more than a carving! Do you not appreciate beauty, you aaaa? The beauty of Selkama Muna!”

“As I said, it is an excellent carving. Do you have any requests for counsel?”

Noraska became incredibly offended very quickly. “You dunce!” he cried. “Where is your appreciation!? You fool, you villain! Sir Jak knew both art and elegance when he saw it. You pale in comparison to him!”

“I’ve been recently reminded of that last one,” said Kuyo. He tossed the die into the bowl. “Let’s find out if I force you to leave my presence.”

“What did you say!?” shouted Noraska, who had not heard due to his continuing outrage.

Kuyo was watching the die carefully as it bounced in the bowl, and suddenly slammed his hand down, stopping it. The number upturned was 84.

“Leave now,” he said.

“You stopped it,” accused Noraska. “You’re not fit to serve Selkama Muna. I would be a far greater aaaa! I am one who understands the bearing and grace of that lady!”

Kuyo nodded. “Shall I roll to find out if a freak lightning bolt appears where you are standing?”

“Hah!” said Noraska. “You couldn’t!”

“Fifty or higher means instant death,” Kuyo replied. He tossed the die up into the air and it fell down and began bouncing around the bowl.

Noraska started leaning back from the counter, still fuming. Kuyo stopped the die with a finger. It had landed on 49. At that moment one of the clear day’s fluffy white clouds passed in front of the sun, and a shadow fell over the house even as Kuyo’s stomach rumbled with nearly the exact sound of thunder. Noraska was gone down the road before Kuyo could say another word.

“Thanks,” said Kuyo.

Some time later a group of three elderly sisters approached, tall and tanned with white hair that stood straight up, resembling the high crowns of the mountain queens.

“Ah, aaaa,” said one. “We have come to seek the power of Selkama Muna.”

“What is your request?” Kuyo readied the die.

The three conferred among themselves, then sent one of them forward. “I am Atamara,” she said. “We have come with a request and with gifts for the lady.”

On cue, the three each retrieved large coins so ancient they had turned blue-green and tossed them on the blue pile.

“We want sandwiches,” said Atamara. The other two nodded.

Kuyo frowned. “Can you put that into a number between one and one hundred?”

“We can,” said Atamara. “Patamara! Give me the note.” She stretched her hand back, and one of the other sisters handed her a small piece of paper. “We want,” she began reading, “any number over fifty to bring a sandwich, any number over seventy to bring two, and any number over ninety to bring three. In the event of a number below fifty, we expect nothing more than three pickles. If the number is one, we expect nothing. If the number is one hundred, then the sandwiches must come wrapped.

“Ah,” said Kuyo. “And do you think Selkama Muna will provide sandwiches for you?”

“Certainly,” replied Atamara.

Kuyo rolled the die. The three women stared intently as it bounced around the bowl, slowed, and stopped on 100 exactly.

“Aha!” they cried in one voice, extending their palms toward Kuyo. “Surrender the packaged articles.”

“I don’t provide sandwiches.”

Atamara smiled thinly and glanced a knowing look sideways at her sisters. “We did not ask for youto provide sandwiches. We asked for Selkama Muna, and she has apparently consented to give us them.”

“And you will have them.”

“When?”

“Within the hour. You didn’t specify a time, so Selkama Muna would have considered that a reasonable period.”

“Well then, where are they?”

“How should I know that?”

Atamara drew back. “Datamara,” she prompted.

The third sister, most physically impressive of the three, stepped forward and grabbed Kuyo by his left shoulder. “Where are the sandwiches?” she said in a low whisper. Her other hand flexed as she held it just above the counter in a half-fist.

At this moment, on the other side of the street nearer to the river, a cart appeared, wheeled in by a small dark woman wrapped in so many leather skins that she resembled a round mummy. She stopped directly opposite Kuyo’s house and shouted in a tremendous voice, “SANDWICHES!”

“There,” gasped Kuyo, pointing with his free hand and attempting to break free from Datamara’s iron grip. “You can get them there.”

“No,” said Atamara. “We will wait here until an hour has passed, or Selkama Muna will be proved a liar, won’t she?”

Datamara released Kuyo, and the three sisters sat down on nearby boulders, intently staring at him all the while. 

Fifteen minutes later, Patamara said, “I am hungry.”

Fifteen minutes after that, Datamara said, “I am hungry.”

After another fifteen minutes, Atamara said, “I am hungry.”

The sandwich vendor had been receiving customers from the passers-by, from whom came exclamations of delight and appreciation.

“Close enough to an hour!” growled Atamara like a starved bear. “You lose, Selkama Muna!” She stalked across the road to the sandwich wagon, and her sisters followed without so much as a backwards glance. At the wagon they purchased three sandwiches, which came wrapped in paper napkins, and they left the area in triple-file.

After seeing a brief lull in the people coming by, the vendor took an extra sandwich and waddled across the road to Kuyo’s house, seating herself upon one of the stools.

“Here,” she said, handing him the sandwich. “From their talk, it seems you managed to send them over to me. My name is Keyga Yulan.”

Kuyo gratefully accepted the food. “I am Kuyo, aaaa of Selkama Muna. Thanks for the sandwich, but I didn’t do much.”

“Well at least they thought you did. I set up my wagon here today to try and catch some people coming to the aaaa. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you! Aaaa Jak chased me away every time. He said I polluted the atmosphere with smells of bread.”

“Well that’s ridiculous, Selkama Muna likes bread as much as any of us. By the way, do you have any requests for her?”

“I haven’t got anything blue.”

“You don’t need to bring something blue. Did you hear that from the previous aaaa too?”

“Oh really? Yes, he did say that as he was chasing me off. Well if that’s the case, then I do have a request.”

Kuyo finished his sandwich and took up the die. “What is it?”

“You see how I have to be wrapped up in deer skins, even in the warm early days of the Red Quarter. I was wondering if Selkama Muna might cure this bone-chill fever. It leaves me hard to move and constantly feeling frozen.”

“I’ll roll for a cure in the near future,” said Kuyo. “Lower means little improvement, higher means great improvement.”

He tossed the die. Keyga and Kuyo both watched with interest as it jumped and sprung on the roughness, then rolled to a stop on the number 6.

“Too bad for me,” said Keyga. “Thanks anyway.” She waddled back across the road to her wagon as a new customer approached it.

The next thing to come up to the house was a shaved mammoth. Upon it rode two people, a woman and a man in white robes. They had unblemished brown skin and blond hair mostly covered by gigantic yellow-white hats, easily a yard in diameter. The woman’s hair was shining, and she wore much jewelry that glinted in the sunlight. The man was towering and bulky. There was a heavy sword strapped to his side.

The mammoth bent down to let them dismount, then occupied itself waving its trunk at the street dogs, who barked delightedly as it played with them. The two riders took off their hats and placed them beside the counter so that they didn’t bump against the house. The man stood guard while the woman took a seat on one of the stools.

“You are the so-called ‘aaaa’ of the so-called ‘Selkama Muna’?” asked the woman. “And that over there is the so-called ‘Blue Pile’, is it not?”

“Correct on all points,” said Kuyo.

“Excellent. I am Theimuka, Lemfudu, daughter of the sun, accompanied by my bodyguard Lujisin. I believe it is customary that those who come here introduce themselves, as I believe you introduce yourself.”

“Correct again. I am Kuyo, aaaa of Selkama Muna.”

Theimuka unclasped a large gold amulet with an inlaid cut blue gem from around her neck and tossed it onto the blue pile. With perfect accuracy, it caught and hung on an old curtain rod that stuck out slightly.

“We have come from distant lands to kill or to be killed,” she said. “As the daughter of the sun I must drive back the night now, once and forever.”

“Do you have a request for Selkama Muna?”

“I do. I desire her to watch over our combat and bear eternal witness to the struggle between light and darkness.”

“I can roll for that, but first tell me: what is she to you?”

“Selkama Muna is as she appears, the pinnacle of all seers. No more.”

“I see. Then if odds then she declines your request, if evens then she accepts.”

“Do it,” said Theimuka. She leaned forward, bringing light into the shadows of the counter.

Kuyo cast the die. It jumped up once, then toppled down with the number 78 face up.

“Selkama Muna will heed your request, Lemfudu Theimuka.”

Rising from the stool, Theimuka bowed slightly and returned to her mammoth. Her bodyguard acted as a step for her, then grabbed their hats, pulled himself up onto the mammoth by one arm and guided the large beast up from the ground and away down the road, with all the street dogs chasing after them.

Once they had gone, a little girl ran across the road from the sandwich wagon. She stretched up to the counter.

“Do you have a request for Selkama Muna?” asked Kuyo.

“No,” she replied. She released her clenched fist to reveal a small blue-green rock. “I just brought her this because I thought she might like it.”

“You can go put it on the pile.”

The child ran over and dropped the rock onto a ledge just below the gold and blue amulet, then she hurried back to the counter.

“I did it!” she shouted. “I hope Selkama Muna will like it.”

“Do you want to find out?”

“Yes!”

“I’ll roll then. From one, she thinks it is a nice rock, to one hundred, it is the best gift of the whole year. What is your name?”

She pulled herself up onto a stool so she could see in the bowl. “I’m Jimu Yulan.”

Kuyo rolled the die. It bumped around, then he suddenly slammed his hand down and stopped it. The number was 94.

“That was an extremely good gift, Jimu,” said Kuyo.

She shrieked and cheered, then ran back across the road.

When the sandwich wagon had moved on an hour or so later, someone much less pleasant took its place. Noraska had returned, and on his back he carried a twice-life-size wooden statue of Selkama Muna which he set down directly opposite Kuyo’s house. The statue was of the same tall, blue woman he had made earlier, in thin flowing silk clothes carved and painted.

“Behold my magnum opus!” he bellowed. “I am the true servant of Selkama Muna! Her beauty will not go unrecognized!” On one side of the statue he planted a sign reading The Perfect Lady – I am her true servant, and on the other Behold the glory of Selkama Muna.

The people on the road stared at the spectacle, and a small crowd began to form as Noraska expounded in great volume the various virtues, physical and otherwise, of Selkama Muna (and himself).

“What is that?” a woman asked Kuyo. “Is that… Selkama Muna?”

“No,” he replied, but the woman had already gone to get a closer look at the statue. Kuyo went out of his house and pushed his way up to the front of the crowd. “What are you doing?” he called out.

“You!” cried Noraska, pointing a long finger at Kuyo. “Where is yourcarved statue? You call yourself aaaa, but do not revere her as you should.”

“I think it looks like rain,” said Kuyo. “Sudden rain.” He looked up at the clouds for a bit, then slipped back to his house. Almost immediately afterward, the clouds broke overhead, entirely drenching the area.

It turned out that the crowd was more afraid of rain than they were interested in the statue, so they dispersed quickly, leaving Noraska alone again.

“Hah! I waterproofed her!” he shouted up at the clouds, which were already beginning to drift away. Kuyo ignored him.

Two travelers upon mules rode up to the counter, rough-looking men with shifty expressions and long black hair tied around their heads like turbans hiding little pieces of metal.

“Behold Selkama Muna!” cried Noraska, but the men evidently knew what they were doing, and went straight for the aaaa.

“You live very hard here,” said one, noticing the lack of furniture and hard stone floor. “How would you like some extra money?”

“I am the aaaa of Selkama Muna, I do not care for money,” said Kuyo.

“Well, perhaps you’ll help us out of good will then,” said the other traveler. “I am Gorman, here with my brother Korman. We are looking for three individuals. One Lemfudu with her man, and one female Unital. All extremely dangerous, most likely armed.”

“Can you please put that into a number from one to one hundred?”

Gorman frowned further than his already frowning natural expression. “I’m asking you, not Selkama Muna. You must see a lot of people around here.”

“If you’re asking me, then you are asking Selkama Muna, so you must get her reply. One to one hundred, please.”

Korman stepped forward. “How many times can we roll, aaaa?”

“As many times as you have questions.”

“Then we will assign characters and punctuation to each possible number and through consecutive rolls determine Selkama Muna’s answer in plain language.”

Kuyo considered for a moment. “No, that’s cheating.”

Gorman firmly gripped Kuyo’s right shoulder, just hard enough that he couldn’t pull free. “If those individuals meet, your town might be in more than a little trouble,” he said. “I can tell that at least one of them has been here already. You’d better tell me who and when.”

“Selkama Muna is the authority here, not whoever you are,” replied Kuyo. “Release me and be on your way.”

Gorman released his grip, but still leaned in over the counter. “Cast your die for this question: will we find those we seek before they meet?”

“Very well,” said Kuyo. “Evens yes, odds no.” He threw the die, and it came up on 99. “There you have it.”

Gorman gave a disgruntled grunt, and the two travelers left Kuyo alone as they moved further into the city.

On the other side of the road, Noraska had recruited two more men, who had brought a second statue which they set up by the first. This one depicted Selkama Muna in a handstand. Noraska strode across the road with his fellows to gloat.

“I gloat in my success,” he gloated. His fellows gloated in silence.

“Did you forget which way you had to carve it?” said Kuyo.

“How did- no! It’s artistic choice,” Noraska replied quickly. “It depicts Selkama Muna’s infinite abilities.”

Kuyo reached for the die. “Do you want to find out if she really stands upon her hands?”

“Not from a fraud like you. Just watch as the people begin to understand who truly represents the lady to this town!”

They returned to the statues, and began calling out to the passers-by, attracting some of the more curious. One such passer-by was a very tall woman with the head of a cow, sharp white horns, and thick black fur covering her body, a Unital. She wore a flowing black cloak and completely overshadowed Noraska as she approached him. The people around moved away as she came.

“Are you the aaaa?” she asked, her voice a gravelly rumble.

“Well, n-” Noraska stopped and glanced across the road at Kuyo. “Yes. Yes, I am. I am the aaaa of Selkama Muna. That is, in fact, who I am.”

“Just say yes. I am Tijel, child of the moon. Take out your die, aaaa, and give me an answer from Selkama Muna.”

“Ah yes, my die.” Noraska looked at his two companions, who both shrugged as they hid behind the statues. “My die,” he repeated. “Ah yes.”

“Are you truly the arch-seer’s proxy?” Tijel stretched her long hairy arms as she frowned down at him.

Noraska, who was rapidly beginning to regret lying to a Unital, began moving backwards. “Don’t be upset, please.”

Tijel laughed. “Why would I be upset? If a man fools me once, that is my own doing. It’s up to me to rectify it.” She placed her hands on both statues, and with a tremendous high-pitched noise they shattered. Two more quick motions of her arms, and all the signs and several trees lay broken on the ground even as wood dust and splinters from the statues rained down around the three men, who had been knocked down by the blast and sat open-mouthed on the ground. “Where is Selkama Muna now? Give me an answer, vermin.”

“Over there!” squeaked Noraska, pointing at Kuyo. “He’s the one, not me! I didn’t do it!”

“Yes you did, idiot.” Tijel turned away and began striding towards Kuyo’s house, the muscles in her arms flexing. Noraska and his fellows ran. Kuyo began sweating, and cast his die quickly. It came up 100. He sighed in relief and straightened in his seat.

“I am Kuyo, aaaa of Selkama Muna,” he said as Tijel came. “Do you have a request for her counsel?”

“Yes, I do,” said Tijel. She was too large to fit on the stools, so she leaned over the counter and some distance into the house, nearly poking Kuyo with her horns. “I have come to fight a duel with a daughter of the sun, and I want advice on how brutally I should slaughter my enemy.”

“One for no slaughter, one hundred for brutal slaughter?” suggested Kuyo, running his finger along the 1 side.

“No, no, no. That gives Selkama Muna room to weasel me out of my rightful due. One for brutal slaughter, one hundred for extremely brutal slaughter. Cast the die.”

“Ah, but what if she doesn’t want you to slaughter your enemies at all? How can I cast the die if you leave no room for the other options?”

“Because if you don’t cast the die, I’ll get angry at you.”

“Selkama Muna has already informed me that you will neither harm me nor my house.”

“Then it should be a simple matter to prove her wrong.” Tijel grabbed the counter and the ceiling above it. “Watch this.”

“Wait!” Kuyo cried. “I’ll roll. I trust Selkama Muna to figure things out here, and I don’t see any way not to roll and still keep her promise intact.”

“Good man,” said Tijel.

Kuyo rolled the die. It jumped, twirled, spun, and landed on 63.

Tijel grunted. “Sixty-three percent brutality. By the way, we will fight in front of your aaaa-house, so Selkama Muna can watch. If my enemy is already in town, I shall commence slaughtering around one hour after midnight.”

“Is there any way you could not? I want to be asleep then.”

“You can’t always get what you want.”

“May I ask,” said Kuyo, “Why would someone like you come to Selkama Muna?”

“You mean because I know what she is, I suppose. Well, little man, even the aphid produces milk for the ant, but the ant must first farm it.” With that, Tijel strode away, leaving Kuyo wondering what an aphid was.

As the sun set red in the sky and the streets emptied of people, Kuyo paced behind the counter, waiting for the arrival of either another come to request counsel or the night.

Finally, just as he was about to close the house, a lone figure appeared out of the darkness. It was an ogre, strong-jawed with sharp teeth, muscular, tall and stout, with a lumbering gait and powerful bearing. He wore a necklace made of blue shells strung together.

“I’m sorry to trouble you,” he said, sitting carefully on one of the stools, “Is it possible that I may inquire of Selkama Muna? My name is Terawive.”

“All may come to Selkama Muna. I am Kuyo, aaaa of the same. What is your request?”

“I am come to observe and record a fateful duel. I wish for the support of Selkama Muna in my work.”

Kuyo readied the die. “One for no support, one hundred for full support?” he suggested.

“That is good,” said Terawive.

Kuyo rolled, and the die came up 100.

“It seems Selkama Muna approves of what you are doing,” said Kuyo.

“I am grateful,” Terawive said. “Please tell me, is it possible to alter her answer through further action of mine?”

“No.”

“Then allow me to point out that your die is hundred-sided and therefore not fair. I could not help but notice.”

Kuyo smiled and held it up. “Fairness is not an issue here. Look closely, this is a weighted die.”

In a moment, Terawive understood. “I see. That is the power of Selkama Muna.” He unclasped his necklace and set it on the blue pile. “I leave this gift for her, as thanks for her support.”

“It is appreciated. Farewell, sir,” said Kuyo.

Terawive bowed and departed.

With the sun set and the street empty, Kuyo prepared to end the day. He closed the booth’s curtains and returned the die to its drawer. He located and ate more bread. Then he went outside and sat by the blue pile, watching the full moon make its slow way across the sky. He was already growing tired, but an inner part of him did not want to sleep for fear of dreaming again. At last, however, he decided it was better to risk dreaming than to stay awake the whole night, and so stretched over the mat again and slept, with some expectation of rising at the first hour entirely against his will.

When midnight came, a small crunching sound outside disturbed him enough that he woke before his nightmare had progressed further. Someone came hurtling through the curtains and landed heavily on their back before springing up again.

“Who’s there?” said Kuyo, rising and peering through the darkness.

“It is I, the great Selkama Muna! Here, have some light.”

Two ball lightnings phased through the still waving curtains in a rumble of quiet thunder. They hovered just inside the house, illuminating it entirely and sending arcs of electricity to the ceiling and themselves.

Their light illuminated the one who had come soaring through the booth opening. She was stout, strong, and had a large jaw with gleaming pointed teeth. Her circular eyes were violet rather than white, with solid black centers. She was wrapped in a shimmering dark blue fabric that twisted and tightened as if it had a will of its own. Her hair, a similar black color, attracted small arcs of light that came from the ball lightnings and ran up to her head and into her wide ears.

“Aphids,” she said, “are a very small kind of insect that consumes sap. Some ants farm them, providing protection and consuming their nutritious excrement.”

“Selma!” exclaimed Kuyo. “I did not expect to see you here today.”

“Hello, Kuyo. I came to see a pretty sight.”

“Haven’t you already?”

Selkama Muna gazed out through the curtains at the night. “I don’t think there was ever meant to be a replacement for the natural senses. Besides, you will want to see it too, without fearing for your life. The Lemfudu and Unital will have quite a battle.”

“W-”

Selkama Muna interrupted, “No, I’ll stop it before anything important gets hurt.”

“C-”

“Yes, but it’s terrifically hard to break the habit, even when I know you don’t like it.”

“Thank you. Do you want something to eat?”

Selkama Muna smiled briefly. “You don’t have anything for me to eat. If I said yes, you’d be struck with embarrassment for several minutes.”

“Oh yes, that’s right,” said Kuyo. “I’m waiting for my furniture and belongings to arrive, and there is a great barrel of flour in it. They’re late. Do y-”

“An hour after noon tomorrow they’ll arrive. Ah, did it again.” Selkama Muna jumped over the counter, and Kuyo followed out the door. The blue pile was illuminated by the moonlight, and as Selkama Muna approached it took on a glow of its own. She reached out and took up the little stone that Jimu Yulan had placed. “I like this one.”

Kuyo looked closely at it as it glowed slightly in her hand. “It’s just a rock, bowerbird.”

“It has sentimental value.”

“A-”

“No, I don’t like him. It doesn’t even-” She grimaced. “Continue, please.”

Kuyo shook his head. “It’s no good if you already were replying, Selma. It takes all the suspense out of the conversation.”

“Huh,” grunted Selkama Muna. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Anyway, I was just remarking on this carving.” Kuyo pointed at the little statue carved by Noraska.

“And I was saying that it doesn’t even look like me. The big ones were worse. I’m glad the Unital broke them, there would have been a tornado had she not.” She pocketed the stone in her hand and took up the blue shell necklace. “This is very nice,” she said. “It reminds me of one I had a long time ago. I will take it with me too.” She put it around her neck. It fit, though it was smaller on her than on Terawive.

“The Lemfudu left an amulet,” said Kuyo. “Might be the most expensive gift I’ve ever seen.”

“I am not interested in wearing Lemfudu jewelry. I will send one of my servants later, they can have it.” Selkama Muna jumped back over the counter and took the die out of its drawer.

Kuyo returned via the door. “Weigh-” he began.

“Yes- ah.”

“-ting? What grand line of fate are you twisting now?”

“Hmm, I wonder.” She placed her fingers against the die, and little sparks of light shot through it, nudging and molding the weight within. This went on for a few seconds, then she placed the die back in the drawer. From a pocket in her shifting clothes she retrieved a small bottle of syrup and gave it to Kuyo. “Drink a bit of this before you go to sleep, about a spoonful at a time every day.”

“What is it?”

Selkama Muna didn’t reply to that. In a little puff of noise, the ball lightnings vanished. “Here they are, Kuyo.”

Kuyo peeked out of the curtain. On the right side of the road from the house, a light the color of the sun appeared, emanating from the Lemfudu. Her bodyguard was close beside, his sword drawn. They were no longer wearing their gigantic hats. On the left side of the road the Unital stood, a swirl of leaves and dust spinning slowly around her feet.

“Unital Tijel!” cried the Lemfudu, “Your vile operations end here. I will strike you down with all the power of the sun.”

“Lemfudu Whatsyourname!” bellowed the Unital in reply, “According to the word of Selkama Muna, I shall bring the glory of the moon upon you, in a sixty-three percent brutal slaughter.”

“The seer is watching, even now,” the Lemfudu shouted. “She will witness my victory.”

“Stop talking and fight!” roared the Unital, clenching and clenching her hands. “Attack if you dare!”

“Three,” said Selkama Muna, as clouds began to gather overhead, “two, one, now.”

The bodyguard charged forward, and the Unital ran to meet him. The Lemfudu remained where she was, but small blinking spheres of light began forming around her like a swarm of fireflies. The bodyguard swung up, but the Unital met his blade with her hand and the steel shattered. He followed with a fist toward her torso, which she caught with her other hand, sending a ripple through his entire body. He fell to the ground as the Unital dashed past him.

“Lights!” exclaimed Selkama Muna.

From the flickering spheres of light, forty yellows rays shot out toward the charging Unital. She jumped aside, but they followed her, piercing and burning. She roared in pain, but closed the distance to the Lemfudu. The Unital reached for her head, but a wide beam of light emerged from the Lemfudu’s eyes, sending the Unital to the ground smoking.

“Manifest sun!” shouted the Lemfudu. A small replica of the sun emerged above the fallen Unital in a great wave of heat and light. It flared down, but the Unital met it with her fist, and like a cracked mirror the air diverted the light into many rays that pierced the ground in neat holes.

“That’s enough,” said Selkama Muna as the Unital sprung to her feet and rushed forward again.

Four more suns appeared around the Lemfudu, and shockwaves rippled across the Unital, but a sudden downpour quenched them both. Far more rain than was proper crashed down on the scene of the fight, running like a brook down the side of the road into the river, carrying away trees and dirt from the banks and carving a channel into the road.

As suddenly as the rain had started, it stopped, leaving the Unital looking like a cloaked wet rat in the moonlight and the Lemfudu looking like a wet rat in white robes, her glow no longer visible. The bodyguard crawled painfully out of the sudden mud.

The Unital roared with laughter. “What now? Everyone knows that the sun hides from the rain!” A shockwave ran down her body, sending sheets of water flying off her fur.

The Lemfudu raised her hand, another sun exploding forth from it. “No rain will stop me!”

“Persistent,” said Selkama Muna. “Andthey don’t take hints.”

Another downpour smashed into the scene, completely extinguishing the Lemfudu’s light and momentarily sending the Unital to her knees.

“Why me?” groaned the bodyguard, pulling himself up from the mud again.

“Incredible,” said Terawive, who was looking out the curtain next to Kuyo. He was writing in a notebook.

“Oh!” Kuyo exclaimed, noticing him for the first time. “What are you doing here?”

“Observing. Sorry I didn’t let you know, but I needed a safe place to watch and didn’t want to disturb your concentration.”

“What have you observed?”

“I was expecting to record a victor, but it seems someone has intervened. Selkama Muna, I suppose. I managed to record the whole thing in my notes as I sneaked closer.“

“Good for you,” said Selkama Muna.

“Who’s this?” asked Terawive, frowning at her.

Kuyo glanced at Selkama Muna.

“Just another ogre,” she replied.

Terawive nodded. “Ah.”

Outside, the combatants had finally taken the hint. Still facing one another, they backed away.

“Even you,” the Lemfudu said, “will not defy the will of Selkama Muna here.”

“Won’t I?” said the Unital, but she kept retreating from the now-flooded area.

“Stop where you are!” cried Gorman. He and Korman emerged from the bushes with drawn black swords and shields. Gorman advanced toward the Unital, while Korman approached the Lemfudu. Both their targets prepared to defend themselves.

“We’re already done here,” said Selkama Muna, and a third cloudburst swirled down and soaked the newcomers. The Unital bolted at this opportunity, and was soon gone westward down the road.

Gorman shook off the water and picked up the once-again drenched bodyguard. Korman attempted to seize the Lemfudu, but got struck by her mammoth’s trunk when it ambushed him from the darkness. The Lemfudu jumped up and galloped away toward the east.

“D-” began Terawive.

“Some Tormast enforcers,” said Selkama Muna. “Completely pointless.”

Terawive looked at her strangely.

“Had to go anyway. Later, Kuyo.” Selkama Muna hurtled out the window and vanished into the night.

“Who was that?” said Terawive, straining to catch another glimpse of her. “A seer?”

Kuyo said nothing.

Outside, Gorman took the injured and soaked bodyguard back to the city. Korman returned as well, physically damaged from being struck by a mammoth and mentally damaged from being ambushed by a mammoth.

“I must return to my home at once,” said Terawive. “I thank you for allowing me to use your aaaa-house as my observation point. I believe this is the support of Selkama Muna.” He hurtled out of the window and vanished into the night.

“Ogres...” mumbled Kuyo, closing the curtains.

It was well past the first hour, and Kuyo was very tired. He went around the outside of his house once, just to check that the sudden flooding had not damaged anything. Satisfied with the state of the house and the blue pile, he returned and lay on his mat again. Then he remembered his gift and sprang up. He took the bottle Selkama Muna had given him, drank a spoonful of the foul-tasting stuff, lay back down, and slept without a dream.