Chapter 22 - The village of Qaryat

A few days later, they reached a village nestled high in the hills. Putt's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him—the narrow terraces that clung to the steep slopes like giant steps, each one meticulously cultivated. The terraces stretched up the hillsides, where sheep and goats grazed, their bleating carried on the wind. The air was filled with the earthy scent of tilled soil and the faint aroma of wild herbs.
The village itself was a marvel. The houses were tall and narrow, stacked together to conserve every inch of arable land, as his grandmother had explained. The second and third floors of the houses were interconnected, creating a labyrinthine network that made entering the village feel like stepping into the courtyard of a massive, circular fortress. In the center of it all was an open square, shaded by the towering buildings, with a well at its heart. The coolness of the shadows contrasted sharply with the pungent stench of the nearby outhouses.
Putt noticed how eerily quiet the village was. They had seen shepherds tending to their flocks as they approached, but now, standing in the square surrounded by the high houses, like they were standing in the bottom of a well, there was not a soul in sight. It was the middle of the day, yet the village felt deserted. He spotted a child peering at them from a window on the second floor, but as soon as Osapi called out, the child disappeared from view.
"Hello?" Osapi called again, his voice echoing in the stillness. "Where is everybody?"
A door creaked open, and an elderly woman stepped out. Her long dress, vibrant with bright colors, swayed as she moved, and her hair was wrapped in an intricately embroidered scarf. She had the look of someone who had lived many years, her movements stiff and deliberate. At first, she eyed them with suspicion, but then her gaze softened as she took in his grandmother’s and Osapi's appearances.
"You’re warriors?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of hope. Avia nodded.
“I’m Avia, and this is my apprentice, Osapi.” She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jadoog as if unsure how to introduce him. Jadoog opened his mouth to speak but paused, letting the woman’s excitement build.
“They’re warriors!” the woman called into the house, her voice carrying through the walls like a ripple in a pond. Almost immediately, the village seemed to come alive. Faces appeared at windows, doors creaked open, and a murmur of excitement spread through the small crowd that gathered.
It was as if the woman embranced them all in the group at once and ushered them inside. She led them up to the second floor, where they entered a large room with bright, woven carpets spread across the floor. They were offered seats, and soon after, cups of tea were brought out. Putt was surprised to see a lump of fat floating in his cup—a curious addition he hadn’t expected. Jadoog served his tea plain.
As plates of food were brought in—fragrant dishes rich with spices, some based on vegetables and others on meat—Putt couldn’t help but feel bewildered by the sudden change in atmosphere. Just moments ago, the village had seemed abandoned, but now it was buzzing with life, and they were being treated to a feast fit for royalty. He leaned toward Jadoog, who was seated beside him.
“Why didn’t you introduce yourself, Master?” Putt whispered. “They might think you’re a warrior too.”
Jadoog pushed the fat in his cup aside and up on the rim before he took a sip of his tea before responding. “Perhaps,” he acknowledged, “but I can’t control what they assume, and I didn’t tell any lies. Besides, where are my weapons? Look at your granny and look at me.”
Putt did as he was told. Avia and Osapi were dressed in leather, their attire speaking of battles and survival. Jadoog, on the other hand, wore a soft woolen robe, a stark contrast to the rugged gear of the warriors. Even without their weapons, the difference between them was clear.
“If you like,” Jadoog whispered, “we can get you more wizard-like clothes.”
Putt’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he nodded in agreement. It was unsettling to know that his thoughts weren’t entirely private—Jadoog could sense his emotions. The realization made him uneasy, but he also recognized the power in it. He watched as Jadoog skillfully conversed with one of the villagers, calming her nerves with carefully chosen words. The ability to read and influence others’ emotions wasn’t inherently bad, Putt realized—it could be used for good or ill, much like the skills of a warrior.
As he pondered this, an image flashed in his mind—vast halls filled with books and scrolls, a library unlike anything he had ever seen. The vision was vivid, almost too real to be his own.
“It’s a library,” Jadoog explained softly. “The legendary library of Kennis. I’ve been there. You’ll love it, I think.”
Putt’s eyes widened in amazement. “You sent me that memory?”
Jadoog smiled. “Yes. And you never have to doubt that I want you as my apprentice. You’ve just proven your worth in a way that will last forever.”
Putt beamed with pride, his heart swelling with newfound confidence. He wasn’t just a burden or an afterthought—he was valued, and for the first time, he felt like he truly belonged.



It wasn’t just because she was a respected warrior that they had arranged this overwhelming dinner for her and her party. Avia knew better. This wasn’t the first time she had encountered such tactics during her travels. The villagers needed help, and they were trying to butter her up to secure it. Farmers, she had learned, often lacked the experience to approach a warrior directly when they needed one. Instead, they felt compelled to honor her with a feast, believing that such gestures were necessary to earn her favor.
She thought back to Oon Barsate, who had simply approached her, asked to sit, and then laid out a proposal—straightforward, no frills. Avia had appreciated the directness, even if the request had been burdensome. But here, in this village, she had to endure this elaborate display of respect before they would dare to ask for her help. They served food they likely needed for themselves, all to soften her up before making their request.
Avia knew that refusing the meal would insult them, and in their desperation, they might try even harder to please her, raising their offers in hopes of winning her over. It wasn’t that she minded the respect, but the underlying manipulation always left a bitter taste in her mouth. After all these years, she still found it unsettling. The villagers were doing everything they could to put her in a good mood, hoping it would make their request more palatable. She understood the custom, and she had learned to smile, be polite, and minimize their efforts as much as possible. But the pretense of it all never sat well with her.
Leaning over to Osapi, she whispered, “Be prepared for a proposal soon. They didn’t arrange this feast for nothing.”
She felt her apprentice stiffen beside her. “Master, I…” he began, but she cut him off.
“Just relax and let me do the talking,” she instructed, sensing his nervousness. Was he suddenly anxious about the possibility of having to use his fighting skills for real? She hoped not. He stayed tense, and she wondered what was going through his mind.
As she had expected, the woman who had greeted them in the square, clearly a leader in the village, soon requested silence. They were all seated along the walls, Avia and her party in the midst of what seemed like the entire village. In the middle of the room, where those serving had been bustling before, stood the old woman, Mutaram, commanding the attention of everyone present.
“I’m Mutaram. This is Qaryat, the village at the world’s end. And this is our story,” she began, her voice carrying the weight of authority. She moved her hands in a way that seemed almost like a dance, causing smoke to swirl for dramatic effect. Avia inhaled sharply through her nose, wary of being drugged under the guise of hospitality. But it was only harmless incense.
Mutaram began to weave a tale, her voice rich with experience. She was an accomplished storyteller, and Avia couldn’t help but notice how even the villagers, who had likely heard this story countless times, were drawn in. It was mostly a mythological tale, one that painted their village as the last outpost before the end of the world. The mountains were the boundary, beyond which nothing survived—no crops, no animals, and certainly no people. Those who had ventured beyond had never returned.
Avia almost scoffed at their superstitions but kept her face impassive. Finally, Mutaram reached the heart of the story and the real reason for Avia’s invitation—a monster from the other side of the mountains had been snatching their women. The story continued, describing four incredibly brave heroes—a wise elder, two young adults, and a child—who would conquer the monster and bring the women back.
Avia nudged Osapi. “You’re already a hero,” she whispered, a hint of irony in her tone. Catching Jadoog’s eye across the room, she saw him shake his head slightly—this wasn’t his mission.
The story ended, and Mutaram was praised by the villagers. Then, as people began to disperse, Avia and her group were shown to a room where they could spend the night. Avia suspected it was Mutaram’s own bedroom. Once they were finally alone, Avia sighed. Despite all the hints and the not-so-subtle storytelling, no one had come out and asked her for help directly.
She hated this kind of drawn-out approach, where the real issue was never addressed head-on, even when the hints were as blatant as these.


Osapi’s eyes widened, and before he could stop himself, he burst out, “By all that’s Holy, I thought I was gonna get married!”
“What?” Avia and the others turned to him, surprised. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning—he had completely misunderstood the situation. Embarrassed, he turned to his master, Avia.
“You said I was going to get a proposal. I thought someone would bring me a girl! Mighty Gag and Ull and Ott!” He could hardly catch his breath as the relief washed over him. The idea of being presented with a stranger and expected to spend the rest of his life with her had been terrifying.
Avia chuckled softly. “That would’ve been interesting.”
“No, poor girl!” Osapi exclaimed, still reeling from his own imagination. “To be refused in public like that…” His heart pounded, the aftershock of his panic still lingering.
“That’s why these things are normally arranged in private first,” Avia pointed out, trying to ease his nerves. But just as he began to relax, a new thought struck him, making his pulse quicken again.
“Are we going to chase that monster she spoke about?” He had pieced together the implications of Avia’s whispers during the storytelling, and now the reality of their mission hit him. Avia nodded, and he felt a surge of excitement electrify his body. The others seemed calm, almost tired, but Osapi was buzzing with energy. He wanted to run, to dance, to practice sword fighting or throw knives—anything to release the adrenaline coursing through him.
“As you’ve probably guessed, Putt and I will not be joining this mission,” Jadoog said, directing his words at Avia. She nodded in agreement, and Osapi’s heart leaped. He would be traveling alone with his master—an unexpected and thrilling bonus.
“I hope you don’t feel too uncomfortable waiting somewhere close by?” Avia asked, her tone considerate. Jadoog shook his head.
“No, I figured we’d follow you for about a day and then find a place where we can wait for your return and practice in the meantime. It would have been nice to stay here, with a proper bed, but there are too many curious eyes around.” Osapi silently agreed—there was something unsettling about being constantly watched.
“What exactly are we going to hunt?” Osapi asked, still grappling with the idea of chasing down a creature that might only exist in legends. His previous missions, under his old master, had been straightforward—brutal, but simple. Avia, however, was a different kind of warrior, one who embodied the ideals he had always admired. He remembered the night they had met, when she spared his life and taught him valuable lessons in just a few minutes. He was determined to stay with her, to learn from her, for as long as he could. She had lived long for a reason, and though he felt destined to be a warrior, he too wanted to grow old.
“The villagers aren’t fools,” Avia explained. “They don’t think it’s a fairytale creature beyond the mountains. But they do know it’s something beyond their ability to fight. Or at least they believe so. It’s safer to hire someone to destroy it for them.”
“Will we get paid?” Osapi asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.
“When you become your own master, you can squeeze out every last silver if you like. But as long as you stay with me, you get half of what I get.” He interpreted this to mean that there would likely be little or no money involved in this mission. Wealth wasn’t his priority, though. His former master had money, but lacked the true knowledge of a warrior. Osapi wanted more than wealth—he wanted to master his craft, to earn a reputation. If he could become half as skilled as Avia, the money would come in time.
He couldn’t help but smile at the earlier misunderstanding about the proposal. He silently offered a prayer to the gods, hoping that such a situation would never come to pass.
The next morning, Osapi accompanied Avia to meet Mutaram. Avia had a long series of questions about the disappearing women, but the elder’s answers were more stories and theories than hard facts. Each question seemed to lead to another tale, full of speculation and fantasy. Osapi sensed Avia’s growing frustration and decided to take over, steering the conversation by playing along with Mutaram’s stories. By engaging with her in a way she understood, he was able to extract more useful information, though it was still wrapped in layers of myth.
“What do you think?” Osapi asked Avia once they were on the move again, leaving the village behind.
“The women were all young, not children. None have returned. Sounds like a brothel of some kind to me,” Avia replied. “But we’ll see.”
By the afternoon, they found a cave that Jadoog deemed suitable for him and Putt to use as a base while Avia and Osapi were gone. They camped there together for the night, and in the morning, Osapi and Avia set out on their adventure. Osapi could barely contain his excitement. The prospect of becoming a hero, just like in the stories, filled him with energy, and he could hardly wait to get started.