FREE USE in Primitive World

Gorr hadn’t fabricated a single word.

Standing in the center of the dusty square, Sol felt a profound, heavy weight lift from his chest.

Lumi is alive, Sol thought, a rare, genuine wave of relief washing over his mind.

Yet, as the immediate worry for the girl’s survival faded, a dense labyrinth of new mysteries took its place.

Who really is Elyndra? Sol wondered, his thoughts racing back to their enigmatic encounter deep in the Orrath wilderness.

In a primitive world where beast-taming required complex manuals and generational breeding methods... like the mundane hide scroll Veylara had prized so dearly... Elyndra commanded deep-jungle behemoths with a mere thought. Her ability to manipulate spatial light, teleport a colossal entity across vast distances, and operate with complete indifference to the regional powers pointed to a realm far beyond the Layer 4 ceiling of the Great Orrath.

Why did she come all the way to the border to rescue Lumi? What connection could a primordial, otherworldly figure like Elyndra have with a little girl from a small tribe?

”Sol?”

A soft, familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

Sol turned to see Kira, Zeyra, Warchief Veylara, and High Shaman Zephyra walking down from the Great Lodge. They had watched him question the Zharun captives and had overheard the detailed testimonies echoing across the quieted square.

Kira’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, her lower lip trembling slightly. Though a deep sense of lingering shame still weighed on her for letting Lumi be taken, knowing that the sweet, defenseless child had survived the dark ritual was an immense relief.

”She’s... she’s truly alive,” Kira choked out softly, pressing a hand against her chest. ”She wasn’t sacrificed.”

Zeyra let out a long, quiet exhale, her sharp eyes softening as she uncrossed her arms. ”Taken by an otherworldly alien on a giant beast... it sounds like a madman’s fairy tale, but after hearing all of them swear to it, there’s no doubt. The kid made it out of this hellhole.”

Veylara’s expression was solemn, a complex mix of sovereign guilt and relief crossing her golden features. ”We failed to protect her, but the ancestors somehow spared her from Vane’s blades. Wherever she is now, under the protection of such an entity, she is far safer than she would have been in our warring tribes.”

Sol looked at Veylara, then turned his gaze toward High Shaman Zephyra, whose white eyes were clouded with deep, unreadable contemplation.

”Veylara. Zephyra,” Sol spoke, his raspy voice cutting through the quiet air. ”There’s something that doesn’t add up. A powerful entity like that doesn’t mobilize a deep-zone beast horde and cross regional borders just on a whim. Who was Lumi, really? What was her background?”

The question hung heavy in the mountain wind.

Veylara and Zephyra exchanged a brief, hesitant glance. The Warchief’s jaw tightened slightly, while the High Shaman closed her eyes, running a pale hand over the smooth wood of her tribal staff.

”We do not know the full truth ourselves, Sol,” Veylara answered after a quiet pause, her voice laced with sincere regret. ”Lumi was never of Veynar blood. She was not born within our lineage.”

Kira and Zeyra looked at their Warchief in surprise, having never heard this part of the girl’s origins.

”Seventeen winters ago,” Zephyra explained softly, her ancient voice carrying a distant, sorrowful cadence, ”one of our most respected elder, Elder Maura, returned from an expedition far beyond the outer boundary lines of the Great Orrath. He was grievously wounded... his sun core was completely shattered by an unknown, terrifying energy, and his body was clinging to life by a thread.”

Zephyra’s white eyes opened, staring into the southern horizon.

”In his arms, wrapped in thick, foreign fabric the likes of which our tribe had never seen, was a newborn infant.

And that child was Lumi.”

”What did Elder Maura say?” Sol pressed, his eyes narrowing.

”Almost nothing,” Veylara shook her head solemnly. ”He collapsed at our gate. All he managed to gasp out before his breath left him was: ’Protect her... hide her blood... do not let them find her.’ Before Zephyra or I could stabilize his core or ask who had pursued him, the elder succumbed to his injuries and went to the ancestors .”

Zephyra nodded slowly. ”We examined the child back then. Her body was normal, displaying no obvious anomalies, and there were no distinguishing clan marks on her body.

Fearing that whatever force had hunted Elder Maura might track her to our gates, Veylara and I chose to keep her origins a secret. We gave her to a loyal caregiver in the tribe and let her grow up as an ordinary Veynar child, hoping she would live a peaceful, unremarkable life.”

The High Shaman let out a soft, rueful sigh.

”We thought her past was buried with Elder Maura. But seeing that alien girl appear with a horde of deep-jungle beasts just to retrieve her... it is clear that Lumi’s bloodline carries secrets far larger than our small mountain clan could ever comprehend.”

Sol stood in silence, piecing the fragments together.

An injured elder fleeing the deep unknown, foreign fabric, dying warnings of hidden pursuers, and an all-powerful, horned alien girl appearing at the exact moment of danger to spirit her away into spatial light.

Lumi was not definitely a simple tribal orphan. She was the center of a much grander scheme... one that stretched far beyond the borders of the Great Orrath and the petty wars of these tribes.

Sol let out a quiet, raspy chuckle, looking toward the dense, mysterious jungle expanse stretching to the south.

”Well,” Sol murmured, his crimson eyes gleaming with cold, unwavering resolve. ”At least she’s alive and out of reach of these hyenas. One day, when I walk into those deeper zones, I’ll find out the rest of the story myself.”

Veylara looked at him, a faint, proud smile touching her lips as she adjusted the grip on her golden spear. ”When that day comes, Sol, the entire Veynar clan will be your strongest backing.”

”For now, let’s finish what we started here,” Sol said smoothly, turning back toward the crowd of people in the square.