Chapter 9: A Village in the Dark Part 1

“Uh ... I’m stuffed,” Fengge said. He put the cooked meat on the table. Even if the table was meant for Alara’jal children, it was still quite large.

It was later on in the afternoon. The last of the two stars had set. The forest was growing darker and darker. Various lights had been lit in the vast village of Alaron’tre’til. This consisted of everything from crudely constructed light bulbs to wax-crafted candles.

There was a large number of Alara’jal, at least a hundred, in the vicinity of the town square. It was not that far from where the elders’ council building was located. A vast collection of “picnic tables” resided on cobbled stone floors. Sets of small metal pylons held the vast sunroof over the entire area. An electrical heating stove had been established. Much of the meat had been stuffed over it in a crafted barbeque grill. Fruits and vegetables grown from the farms had been assembled on the nearby counters. There was music that filled the air. It consisted of two bones that would be clapped together. A soft flute craft from Goagoa bone could be heard in the distance. It was harmonic and done in short tonal notes.

Where Fengge sat was a lower-level table. It was not far from the “parents’ table,” which was taller. By now, many of the Alara’jal were getting to meet the alien that came to visit. However, even with his presence, it didn’t entirely grasp their attention. Maybe they were reacting to it in their own way. The Itreans already consisted of a few subspecies, so the arrival of a single human might not have been overly impressive. There were at least two other Alara’jal children that were sitting with him. One of them, a boy, was his height. He wore green shorts, had a short tail, and had small brownish feathers. The other child, a girl, was bald and wore a red woven dress that covered only her lower extremities. Even though she was young and little, she was about four feet tall. She was just at the stage where she could eat for herself, her mother and father peacefully watching her place the meat into her mouth. Sitting at the large tables next to Fengge was Tonja. She had been eating and relaxing along with the others. A look of relief filled her face. She seemed happy to rest finally. Her posture was slumped over the table with her plate nearly empty.

“Hmm ... this was pretty good,” Fengge commented as he pushed his empty plate away. “I’ve never had anything like this before.”

“Goagoa is good when seasoned correctly,” Tonja replied swallowing her meal. “My mother told me ... that the Goagoa tasted bad ... Not cooked thoroughly and it ... will change the taste.”

“I can imagine that your people had a rough time settling in at first, right, Ienikiky?”

Fengge was looking at the boy in front of him. Even if the Alara’jal child didn’t know English, he did understand his name being called out. The relaxed smile of the human seemed to indicate to the kid that the alien was friendly. The paleontologist mustered the courage to speak in Itrean.

“Click Ienikiky Hen?” Fengge asked.

Ienikiky’s rounded snout gave a big smile and a couple of quick nods in response.

“Hen...”

Tonja began to say several words in Itrean to the kid. Her hand was posed outward. Finally, Ienikiky said a few words to Fengge. He was able to understand it as “Are humans bigger?”

“I’m a little short for my height,” he replied to the youth. “But most humans can be a little bit taller than me.”

Tonja translated to the kid. There was still food on the boy’s plate, and he resumed eating. There was a tugging on Fengge’s right arm. The Alara’jal girl, by the name of Ga’finy, had gripped her large four-fingered hand onto his arm. She seemed curious as to the rather unique alien being. Her hands were covered in grease that covered the man’s right arm.

“I’m sorry,” Tonja told Fengge. “Children can be children.”

“It’s alright,” Fengge happily replied back. He took the kid’s hand and politely pried it off of him. “To see that your people have managed to survive and rebuild is important. Having kids is equally as important.”

“Yes ... yes it is,” she replied. Fengge turned to look at her, and he could see that she was looking at him closely.

“What?”

“Ask me later...”

“Hmm...” He changed the topic. “Your arm looks better.”

“Thank you.” Tonja looked at her right arm. The injury to her arm had been patched up. A combination of basic and advanced medical tools did quick work in fixing the damaged tissue. The small scar was all that was left that would soon heal.

The music began to change. Two of the Alara’jal, perhaps brothers, had two large instruments on the other side of the food hall. They were shaped like two large rectangular boxes. However, upon pressing the side buttons, a set of small compartments revealed a six-string arrangement. The Alara’jal started to play what could have been described as a Spanish duet. It was not uncommon for the Itrean society to mirror some French, Spanish, and Japanese cultures. They played in different rhythms but in a fast-steady beat. The flute playing died down, but the banging bones matched the guitar playing. There was no singing, at least not yet. The ambiance was peaceful and relaxing.

“I’ve so rarely heard Itrean music,” Fengge commented.

“Our musicians,” Tonja said. “They play music ... that has been passed before Jalgren.”

The instruments started to give a slight echo of different tones as the musical rhythm continued. Fengge made sure that his camera was kept on record. Finally, one of the Alara’jal women got out of her seat. She was already topless and started to dance past the large sunroof. Despite her great height, she would twist her digitigrade legs around. The dancing would consist of swishing hips, raising and snapping the fingers with the pointer and middle finger with the thumb, and making clicking sounds with the mouth. There was no indication of the dance as provocative. However, it was what it was.

“Do you dance?” he asked Tonja.

“I ... I don’t,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Our dance that she ... is doing requires two thumbs.” She gestured to her deformed hand. “I ... don’t want to.”

Fengge remained quiet and continued to remark upon the scenery. It started to dawn on him that as much as Tonja was considered one of the three elders, she almost resented her position.

“You are...,” he commented. “You are not like the other Alara’jal.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re reserved. Nobody comes to you. I’ve been watching the others ... how they behave and treat everyone. You barely had anybody come to you. Even Huven’ja barely spoke to you.”

“I am an elder.”

“Hmm ... I would have expected more, though. I would have expected three times the many people to come up to you. Instead...”

“I have no issue with that.”

The paleontologist seemed to think about it as he continued to observe the scene. Why was she so quiet? There had to be a reason. It reminded him of when he first met her. Even when he had been talking to Tochasa, Tonja only spoke when necessary. She might have been partially reclusive. Even if she was in gatherings or traveling to every section of the village, she might as well not even be there.

“You prefer this...,” he said to her.

“I do,” she simply replied.

Before anything else could be said, there was a slamming of the plate. Fengge and a few other Alara’jal had turned their heads to look at the commotion. At least thirty meters away, a male and female Alara’jal were squaring off. The female had a look of raw anger on her face. The male appeared to have been the one that was holding the plate. Food was thrown about onto the ground. Both sides were spouting angry words. It got louder and louder. Finally, Tochasa and a couple of other Alara’jal walked into the commotion. Fengge watched in awe as the female said several different words in Itrean. The human could understand a few terms such as “shitty” and “stealer” or “help.” It wasn’t enough to fully comprehend. However, it was enough that the female finally lunged at the male.

“Ata!” Tonja exclaimed as she stood up. Tochasa quickly approached the two. A brawl broke out between the two causing the music to stop suddenly. The female Alara’jal tried to snap her powerful jaws at the male’s hand, but he had pulled it back. Finally, he lunged back and grappled her into a throat grab.

“Oh my,” Fengge remarked.

“Hoity Click Nata’jaga,” Tonja said. Tochasa grabbed the male and shoved him back. Eventually, Tonja joined up. Words were being exchanged between both. Both angered individuals broke free from Tochasa and his posse. The male, whom Fengge could identify with red and white small feathers and a red scarf over his right shoulder, threw a swing into the female’s face. With a powerful fist, the male uppercut into the lower right neck of the woman. Bone and flesh met bone and flesh. By the time Tochasa put his hands to him and regained control, the mighty female Alara’jal toppled over like a small building. She crashed onto the dirt with a hard thump knocking dirt and dust everywhere.

“Nata’jaga...,” Tonja yelled at the male. “Click, Kefatre,” she made a “yeep” sound. For Fengge, it sounded like, “Hey ... stop!” followed by the person’s name. Unfortunately, there was no other direct translation for it.

The male got angered and reached down to start cleaning the mess. Tochasa and Tonja had no sympathy for the female that was knocked out cold. Tonja gave a quick nod to have the unconscious woman picked up and hauled away. Fengge watched the scene had started to calm down. Even the music had resumed. Tonja headed back as Tochasa joined the others to return to the festivities.

“Sorry,” Tonja said.

“What was that about?” He asked. He watched as she sat back down on the chair to finish her meal.

“It was ... it was nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing. Somebody got knocked out cold. She isn’t dead, is she?”

“No ... Nata’jaga was just ... she tried to fight Yeyej.”

“Is that common here in the village?”

“Fights? Some fight as a sport here. Yeyej ... is one of the best fighters.”

“Well ... I wouldn’t want to be in an arena with him. He seemed to know exactly where to hit Nata’jaga and how hard to do it. POW ... almost reminds me of the UWA Ultimate Fighter Competitions. My cousin would watch those shows and try to get me into it. I can’t even imagine what the Itreans have for fighter competitions.”

She smiled a little bit as she nibbled and finished her plate. She seemed full as she leaned back a little bit. Fengge could see that the child was looking at him.

“Would you like ... to see more?” Tonja asked him.

“I’m full ... might as well,” Fengge replied. He stood up as Tonja did the same. He gave a polite wave to Ienikiky, to which the boy did a quick nod to him. For a little while, Fengge stipulated that Tonja wanted to put some space with the crowd. It was best to placate her. The need to meet more and more Alara’jal could be done in time instead of all at once. He joined her again as they walked away from the festivities.

“It’s odd ... I would have expected more Alara’jal to come and talk to me,” Fengge said as he walked fast. “I wonder if I truly scare them.”

“No ... they see you with me,” Tonja replied. She slowly walked as usual.

“Maybe it’s both of us.”

“Tonja!” A distant voice called out. Both of the two halted in their walk and turned their heads to the sound. Fengge recognized immediately who it was. The male elder, Yoretalaj, was alone. He was almost in the darkness, standing by what could be considered to be a large hut.

“Yoretalaj,” Tonja replied. She headed toward him with Fengge following her. It didn’t take long before the two greeted the male elder.

“Hello,” Fengge said. He then said it in Itrean along with “How are you?”

Yoretalaj understood his words. The elder, instead, turned to the door and slid it open, gesturing the two to enter.

Upon arriving in the hut, the paleontologist was greeted with a simple, yet elegant locale. This wasn’t Yoretalaj’s private hut but that of a museum or library. It consisted of relics from gadgets, gizmos, and books. Tools, odd-looking pipes, and artifacts were stored in barrels or hung in makeshift clear cases. Of course, the books were much larger than the typical human-made books. However, it amazed the paleontologist.

“Books ... written books...,” Fengge remarked. “Here, I would think that your people would have done away with them.”

“When we left, we took ... what we could,” Tonja said. “The original Alara’jal that arrived here ... they each donated a part of ... their history to make this hut.”

The interior wasn’t that large, but its importance was obvious. What was the Alara’jal, whatever was left, survived here. Fengge approached the nearby shelf. At least seventy books resided. Each of them was in a different condition. It was difficult for Fengge to reach, but he pressed his fingers against the hard binding. Gold Itrean letters shimmered from the single bulb that glowed overhead.

“Incredible...,” he said.

“Fengge...,” Yoretalaj said to him. He spoke in Itrean. He tried to say it slowly, and the paleontologist understood half of it. So much had to be said. However, the elder did seem more relaxed than when he saw him earlier.

“He says that he knows more ... about the humans,” Tonja translated. “He ... knows about the ‘one’ before you.”

“Really?” the paleontologist said.

Yoretalaj pulled out a set of tilons. The massive two rods were set for the titanic people’s hands. He continued to speak.

“We do not have his name,” Tonja translated. “Our information shows him as... ‘peacemaker.’ There is something else...”

She walked over to the books. She reached to the tallest shelf and pulled out two books. They were pretty small for her to handle. Unfortunately, one of the books simply fell apart. Its pages ripped free from its bindings and down to the floor. A mess was made, something that Fengge tried to resolve immediately.

“I donated two books,” Tonja said. “After I learn the human language ... I leave here. One of the books ... was like this.”

“I can tell, umph...,” Fengge picked up the pages but could tell that much of them had been badly burned. Upon further inspection, the paleontologist noted that the entire book was in poor condition. However, he paused to inspect and realign the pages together. A few of the unscarred pieces did shed some light. It consisted of Chinese characters. Fengge could read and decipher this as some sort of “How to Speak Chinese” book. He flipped to the binder to read more of the index. Along the burned edges was a fragmented name.

“K ... E ... the last letter is N,” he noted. “Huh? Doesn’t look like you had much luck learning Chinese.”

“I try...,” Tonja said. “So little in it survive ... I thought that humans speak language together.”

“Not bad, considering that you had to put all of this together.”

“It was much easier with this...,” she traded books with him, taking the damaged book. He received the other book. This one was in far better shape than the other. There were hints of scaring on the binds. However, as the man opened up the pages, he could see the lettering and pages were still intact. The title was on the front page.