Allabva and Mellier

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Allabva and Mellier

Allabva Roalke walked near her home in the Valley of the Five Moons in the afternoon. It was during one of those contested months when people had a hard time agreeing on whether it belonged to the cold season or the growing season. The truth was that the Valley of the Five Moons was solidly in the throes of springtime, when the Nomord migrated down from the Grand Mount through Pine Canyon and into the valley.

“Allabva, where are we going?” Allabva’s younger brother, Mellier, asked.

“We’re going up to the mouth of Pine Canyon to gather rosemary, and Mother and I both already told you that,” Allabva recited.

“Do I have to come? I’m six now,” he added, as if that had any bearing on him accompanying her up the trail.

“Yes, and Mother already told you that, too.” Allabva kept walking as she talked, glorying in the fresh air, so Mellier had to keep up if he wanted to continue pestering her. “Just enjoy the springtime.”

“Is it true the first unicorn of the season grants a wish?”

“What? Where did you hear that?”

“At Graystone Observance.”

“A month ago? Alright, but who told it to you?” Allabva prodded.

“Just some other kids.”

“Some other kids like…Jonder? Ultlan?”

“…Yes.”

“Mellier,” Allabva tried to say with patience, “Jonder and Ultlan have very active imaginations. You have to take everything they tell you with some level of incredulity.”
“With what?”

“With a grain of salt. Just don’t automatically believe everything they tell you.”

“Why not? Where do I put the salt?”

Allabva sighed. “Because they told you the first unicorn of the season grants a wish. Because at Blackstone Observance they told you the month was named after the Nightshade Unicorn, black like his heart. And don’t call them unicorns. That’s slang. They are the Nomord.”

Mellier stopped, confused and mildly offended. “What’s wrong with that? The Nightshade Unicorn sounds awesome.”

Allabva paused, shook her head, then nodded again in their direction of travel. “Come on.” She resumed walking up the trail. “One: you have to come with me because we need to gather rosemary. We need rosemary to grind it up and scatter it on the fields and orchards as soon as the shoots appear, in order to keep the bugs off. You come with me so we can bring back more than I can carry alone. I have my bags, you have yours.”

Allabva glanced back to make sure Mellier was following her physical walk as well as what she was telling him, then continued. “Two: there is no Nightshade Unicorn. Nightshade Nomord. Whatever. That’s an old story made up to scare children. I take it that it doesn’t seem so scary to you. I’m glad; I don’t think we should try to scare kids. But that doesn’t make it real. You’ve seen Nomord before, right? What are they like?”

“White. And they run and jump a lot.”

“That’s right. And?”

“And they have horns. Uh, one horn.”

Allabva shook her head again in amusement. “Yes, that’s why people sometimes call them unicorns instead of horses. But what else? Never mind, I’ll tell you: they’re all female. But, of course, the Nightshade Unicorn is male, and his fur is black. It’s just a reactionary story to say that there’s something different. It doesn’t exist.”

“But unicorns aren’t all exactly the same! I know because I’ve seen them!”

“How different do they get? Their hair is all white. They never get sick or old. They all act alike.”

“Well, they have different colored eyes, and one time I saw one with yellow hair.”

“No, you didn’t. Different eyes, maybe. No yellow hair.” How much farther, now? Allabva wanted to arrive at the mouth of the canyon, gather their rosemary, and go home.

“Well, it was at least cream-colored.”

“It must have been the light. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“But why do we have to gather rosemary?” Mellier didn’t give up when he didn’t want to.

“Because somebody has to. Mother has her chores, we have ours.”
“Can’t there be somebody else?”

“Well, there once was, but Father is still lost at sea.”

“I don’t remember him. What was he like?”

“You always ask that,” Allabva breathed. She couldn’t resist telling him, regardless. “Father…is great.” She tried to remember to use the present tense when talking about him, despite the years he’d been gone. “He always made me laugh, and always helped me when he was able. I still love the little shoes he gave me when I was your age, even if they don’t fit anymore. I didn’t need them, but he said he simply had to buy them for me, and that he was forced to do so because I would look so cute in them.” She couldn’t hold her smile inside, allowing it to bleed out onto her face.

“When will he come back?” Mellier said.

“You always ask that, too.” Allabva picked her way through the trail they walked, sighing and letting her smile fade. “He’ll be back when he’ll be back. He’ll return just as soon as he can, but the sea is dangerous, so we have to be prepared for him not to make it back…maybe ever.”

Despite her sometimes-impatient tone with her brother, Allabva didn’t mean to antagonize him. She loved the Nomord, too, although she felt that with her age—almost seventeen—she had a better idea than her brother of what the world contained.

Allabva had seen the seasons change through all eleven months, watched the Nomord come down through the canyons and graze in the copses and the meadows, observed how they played and teased every year. She, like many other residents of the Cleft, another name for the Valley of the Five Moons, had savored a few moments throughout her childhood when a Nomord had come in close enough to touch, had been uplifted by hearing their laughter every summer and seeing the smile in their eyes. She had even had the honor of touching a unicorn in a gentle caress of friendship, and she could see the touch in others who had received the same honor. None of them ever spoke of it, but once she had been touched, she had always been able to see the touch in others. She knew she wasn’t alone in this.

Unlike most residents of the Cleft, she believed, Allabva had once conversed with one of the Nomord. It had been a simple conversation, appreciating the beauty of the valley, the seasons, and the sky overhead. Neither of the two had spoken of anything of import. She would soon engage in her second conversation with one, this time without grasping the immense import of the brief exchange.

Allabva and Mellier arrived at the mouth of Pine Valley and began to collect rosemary, cutting it with the knife she brought and loading it in their bags.

“Allabva, look, a unicorn!”

“You mean Nomord.”

“Okay.”

Allabva looked, genuinely interested in seeing one of the creatures. It stood some seventy paces away, looking directly at them.

“She sees us,” Mellier said happily.

“Of course she sees us. We’re not hiding.”

“But she’s looking at us.”

“True, my little man, true.” Allabva smiled at him, then looked back at the Nomord, intrigued. It wasn’t looking at them, it was staring at them. Allabva couldn’t help but stare back. The Nomord tossed her head, shaking her mane.

“Allabva.” The Nomord stated the name simply and gently, the sound traveling up the trail clearly despite the distance. She trotted forward, hooves hitting softly in the dirt of the trail. She came within five paces of brother and sister and it became clear that she was staring at Allabva, not at both of them.

“You are nearly ready. Or perhaps you are now ready.”

Allabva was taken aback. What an odd thing for a flighty creature to say. “Ready? For what?”

“Yeah, for what?” Mellier copied.

Allabva looked down at the rosemary she had gathered. She wasn’t almost done with this task.

The Nomord blinked, then sniffed through her large nostrils. She tiptoed toward Allabva. Mellier stepped toward the Nomord, who spared him a glance before disregarding his presence. Allabva brought a hand up to greet the Nomord. The Nomord brought her face closer to Allabva and nuzzled her hand, and Allabva then ran her hand up the Nomord’s face.

Mellier reached up and touched the Nomord’s shoulder. She again glanced at him, then turned her attention back to Allabva.

“Well, today is Greenstone Observance…” Allabva trailed off, swallowing. “Um, it is my year, do you mean…” She reached up again with her hand to touch the Nomord’s nose, then moved up to between her eyes. The Nomord took half a step back and lowered her head to bring the point of her horn down toward Allabva, who reached up and touch the tip of the horn with her fingers. The Nomord then drew away slightly and brought her horn down to touch Allabva’s forehead. Allabva’s eyes widened as the Nomord lifted her head and looked at Allabva through one eye.

“What is this, an interview? It feels as though you just saw through every part of me, cold and warm at the same time.”

The Nomord tossed her head again and pranced, bouncing into the air as she danced from side to side. She whinnied and laughed, displaying the energy and playfulness the Nomord usually showed.

Allabva laughed, along with her brother Mellier. “You’re a really unpredictable Nomo-Nomo,” using the diminutive term used for affection or derision. Allabva shook her head in wonderment at the animal’s behavior.

The Nomord stopped dancing for a moment. “I am Hronomon. I will come back. Prepare yourself.” Then Hronomon reached down to the bundle in Allabva’s other hand, took a large bite of rosemary, and turned away, bucking and dancing, then prance-trotted off, shaking her head as she went.

Allabva noticed something more about the Nomord. “That was no Nomo-Nomo,” she said, wide-eyed.

Mellier agreed. “I know. It was weird how it came right up to you and looked at you so carefully. That didn’t seem like a silly joke, it seemed to be serious.”

“Yes, but that’s actually not what I meant,” Allabva said. “That wasn’t a she. Every Nomo-Nomo I’ve ever seen was female.”

“Do you mean it was a boy unicorn?”

“Ye—no. It was a male Nomord. Can there be male Nomord? And she—he—told me his name. Have you ever heard a Nomo-Nomo’s name?”

“Like a boy horse?”

“No, like a boy Nomord.” Allabva rolled her eyes, then looked down at the slightly reduced bundle of rosemary in her arm. “Come on. We have to fill our bags and get home. We don’t want to take too long and miss the start of Greenstone Observance.”

“You’re hoping you get to dance with Delgan during the Observance.”

Allabva opened her mouth, but nothing came out, and she turned red instead. Then she spoke quickly as she tried to regain herself. “Little brother, how can you have so much trouble with the concept of a boy Nomord, and then a moment later you show this much perception? Yes, I do hope to dance with Delgan during the Observance.”

Allabva and Mellier joked as they worked together to cut sprigs of rosemary and fill their bags. It may have been because of the singularity of their meeting with the odd Nomord, but on this occasion, they seemed to finish the task in record time.

***

Back home, Allabva and Mellier brought their bags of rosemary to their mother. Allabva opened the front door as its hinges gave their usual loud creak.

“You’re back a little early. Did you find it closer to home than usual?”

Allabva set her bag down on the wooden table in their modest kitchen. “No, but we had an interesting experience that I think lifted our spirits a little, and that helped us finish faster.”

“Allabva wants to dance with Delgan tonight!” Mellier dropped his bag on the floor and turned back around and went outside.

Allabva’s eyes went wide, and she looked back and forth between her mother and younger brother, mouth agape.

Mother Roalke called after Mellier. “Get back here, young man. You need to wash up properly.”

He came back inside to argue. “I don’t wanna wash up. I’m fine. We didn’t get dirty at all out on the trail.”

“Maybe not, but I can see on your face that you did a bit of sweating. I’ll draw you a bath and you can bathe before you get dressed.”

Mellier’s eyebrows rose, seeing that his attempt to argue had backfired and made the situation even worse. “No, it will be too cold!”

“I’m sure you’ll survive somehow. Now, come have a little bite to eat while I go prepare the bath.”

Mellier didn’t have to be told twice to eat. He came to the table and sat down in front of his bread and cheese, digging in with gusto.

Mother looked at Allabva with a smile. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Well, Delgan seems like a nice young man, so I don’t fault you for liking him. I just hope he’s good enough to deserve you. And thank you for this,” she finished, gathering the bags of rosemary from the table and from the floor.

“Of course, Mother.” Allabva’s indignation appeared pacified.

“So, what miracle happened out there that brings you back early?”

“Id waff a unigone.” Mellier spoke through a mouthful of food.

“Don’t chew and talk at the same time, son. And don’t say unicorn, it’s slang. So, you saw one of the Nomord?” Mother lifted one eyebrow and looked to Allabva for the answer, waiting for the details that made it a special occurrence.

“Yes,” Allabva answered. “But this Nomord was not a regular Nomo-Nomo. First of all, it acted partly serious. It came up very close to me and even took a bite of the rosemary I was holding.”

“An id tushed her fohead,” Mellier interjected.

“Mellier. Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mother scolded. “Go on, Allie.”

“It’s true. The Nomord looked at me straight in my eyes and then brought his head forward, and touched my forehead with the tip of his horn.”

“His?” Mother didn’t miss anything. “You misspeak.”

“No,” Allabva insisted. “It was a male. A male Nomord, not a mare like all the rest.”

“Maybe it’th the Nightthade Unigone!”

“Mellier, what did Mother tell you?”

“Oh.”

“No, it’s not the Nightshade Unicorn,” Allabva continued lecturing her brother. “The Nightshade Unicorn is a fable. Stop listening to Jonder and Ultlan. They make stuff up and repeat old nonsense.”

“It’s alright for you to play with them,” Mother stepped into her role before Allabva could usurp too much. “But you need to learn to separate truth from fiction. Your sister’s right, though.”

Mellier swallowed his mouthful. “But it was a boy unicorn. All the rest are girls.”

“Nomord.” Mother and Allabva corrected him in unison.

Mother got up to leave the room. “You two can figure it out. I’m getting that bath ready. Allabva, don’t let him escape.”

Allabva paused. It was the only male Nomord she had ever seen. Maybe there could be some truth to the fiction. “But his coat was white, definitely not black,” she tried to reason with Mellier, and herself. “White, just like all the Nomo-Nomo we’ve ever seen or heard of. It’s just weird that he was a he.”

“No,” Mellier contradicted again. “It was weird that he touched you with his horn, too.”

“That is true also.” She folded her arms in thought. “Fine, but there’s still no Nightshade Unicorn. Just a male Nomord that acted strangely, but wasn’t spooky at all. I’m going to wash up. Don’t go anywhere.”

She closed the door to cut off his exit, the creaky door acting as the alarm if he tried.


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