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FrettzoThe Great Dreamer Moot
In lieu of an official gathering hub, the dreamer host summoned for the great moot all instead were to meet at the now-empty Mansion of the Our Mothers. With all the expansion projects over the decades, the once small estate could now easily accommodate the roughly one hundred and fifty or so dreamers that existed; however, the old courtyard surrounded by the three abodes of wood still remained much the same. Wenbo sat in the doorway of the dining house, absent-mindedly maintaining a twig flute using a sharp rock. His family were the first to arrive, a given as their house was rather close and they had sent out the invitations. Behind him, Ai, Naran and a number of Wenbo and Ai’s children and grandchildren were preparing supper for the whole moot. It was an all-too-rare occurrence that their whole clan would meet - the warmth in Wenbo’s chest urged him to gather them more often.
A smile curved his lips as he gleefully watched his slightly wilder grandchildren chase one-another back and forth across the courtyard as he once had his siblings. The teens among them, and they had grown in number since he last saw them, huddled into cliques and discussed a myriad of topics, most of which Wenbo felt certain his opinion on would be lame and old. He saw Wen Cai scoff at one of her cousins and playfully strike him after he presumably said something slightly too playful; among the younger ones, he saw Wen Qi pull one of his cousins by his hair as their game of catch grew slightly too hot-blooded for their own good. As he pressed his palms down on his thighs and craned his torso forward to stand, however, one of his four daughters, Wen Fei, gave him a reassuring smile and went on ahead in his stead. Wenbo snickered at her, and as the hot-aired words of her scolding floated across the courtyard, not completely unchallenged by tearful shouts from Wen Qi and the other enthusiastic children, the ageing dreamer drew in a soft breath through his nose.
“... Hey, chalky! Your head looks like a crow’s nest!”
Wenbo blinked and looked down on the ground before him. A small gang of sparrows pecked mockingly on the ground and snickered to one another.
“Pfft, yeah! Like a dirty, old twig heap!” they continued.
The old Dreamer gave them a sharp look and one of the sparrows broke out of its snicker.
“... ‘Ey… ‘Ey, fellas, somethin’s up with this one. Look at ‘im, is as if he can hear us or somethin’.”
Wenbo huffed. “For your information, I can.”
The sparrows looked awkwardly at one another. “Aw, tits,” said one of them.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Wenbo asked self-conciously, wrinkly hands ruffling the graying black bush atop his scalp. The sparrows exchanged sheepish looks.
“Nothin’, mista’ - best hair I’ve ever seen.”
“Well, ‘s a lil’ spiky, gotta admit.”
“Whaaat? Nooo… A bit?”
Wenbo huffed again. “Easy for you three to say - you don’t have any hair.”
“‘Ey, ‘ey - now that’s just rubbin’ it in, dreamer boy,” one of them tweeted angrily.
“Chippy, ‘e’s right. You ain’t got no hair.”
“Oh, Crumbus, that’s way below the tail.”
The angry bird, presumably Chippy, gave the one known as Crumbus a look of betrayal before flapping his wing at him and taking off. Crumbus gulped.
“Now, ‘ey! What did I say? ‘E really ain’t got no hair!” Crumbus insisted. The third sparrow shook his head.
“Tits, Crumb… Really gotta rub it in, huh. Thought you were better than this.” The third sparrow took off as well, tailed by an increasingly frustrated Crumbus exclaiming that what they had was feathers and dow.
Wenbo still sat in the doorway, his eyebrows admitting that he had found the conversation to be anywhere between awkward and amusing. He traced an approaching shadow up to see the smile of his son Wen De. The young adult looked to the sky in the general direction of the sparrows’ flight and chuckled.
“Did they say anything amusing, dad?” he asked kindly and put his hands on his hips. Wenbo shrugged.
“Eh… I’ve heard better.” He put his flute down on the floor beside him. “How’re you doing, De?”
“Not too bad, I suppose - Chunhua’s really happy about the addition to the house you helped us build. Now we’ve got a proper storage shed so the twins’ bed actually fits inside our living room. So, yeah, thanks, dad.”
Wenbo nodded happily. “How are the little Yun and Tu?”
“Oh, very well, very well. Yun sadly broke his arm a few months ago, but it seems to be healing well now, thank the gods.”
“Thank the gods,” Wenbo echoed and smiled. “I’m happy for you, De - really am. I know we didn’t think much of Chunhua in the beginning, but she looks to be right for you, after all.”
Wen De let out a quick, sheepish chuckle. “Where’s this coming from, dad? Are you alright?”
The old dreamer blinked as though he broke out of a light trance. He pursed his lips and snorted. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about me.”
Wen De’s smile faded into a look of concern. Wenbo gazed at the sky above and leaned back, propping himself on his hands.
“... The cup of my heart is shaking while full. The weight of this mission is calling forth words.” He chuckled and Wen De remained worried still. The old dreamer then sighed. “I may grow a little sentimental throughout the day, my son, so you may as well get used to it.”
“Yeah,” De responded. “You’d tell us if something was bothering you, right?”
Wenbo smiled. “A million things bother me, my child, and you would probably get bored of hearing them long before I could ever finish.” He looked past De for a moment at the figures approaching through the gateway. “Ah… There he is. Go tell your mother that Chagatai’s family has come.”
Wen De turned around and smiled. “Right on it, dad.” The dreamer stepped through the wide doorway Wenbo sat in. Wenbo nodded to himself and gazed towards the gate. The unmistakable blue hair of Altansarnai danced on the breeze next to the powerful build of his own precious twin brother. Wenbo pushed himself to his feet and strode across the courtyard, hands collected behind his back and a smirk about his face.
“The Leader has come at the Thinker’s call. Sound the flutes - yes, tell all - Chagatai and clan have come - joy is here and despair’s gone!”
“Wenbo!” Chagatai roared over the chattering of his kin, “I have ridden the mighty Tree-Eaters of white!”
“It was an accident, they spent like three minutes apologizing to each other!” Altansarnai corrected as they made the final few steps. Now in reach, Chagatai extended his arm, poking Wenbo on the cheek.
“What dangers of thought is the Thinker thinking this time?” Chagatai mused before pulling Wenbo into a rough hug.
Wenbo returned a loud guffaw and slid in a poke on Chagatai’s cheek in the middle of the hug. “Oh-ho, it’s a terrifying plan this time, Chaggie - you won’t like it one bit, but I’ll admit that it may be the biggest thing to ever happen to us - to all of us.” Wenbo squeezed and patted Chagatai a few more times before breaking the hug. His grin faded a little and his brow lowered over his eyes. “We’ll wait until the rest of us arrive before the big reveal, but… Safe to say, it’ll be something else.”
“Alright but if I don’t like it, I’m--” Chagatai paused and turned to his bride, “What’s a good threat?”
“You’re going to cook him dinner?” She suggested and Chagatai frowned.
“Better yet,” He turned back to Wenbo, “I’ll have her do it. You could ride one of her roasts into the thick of the hunt.”
“I like them bloody,” She tilted her chin high.
“I’d say your roasts is closer to a tartar, really,” came a voice from behind Wenbo. Ai stepped forward with a smirk on her face and a tray in her hands, the ceramic disc sporting various steamed and grilled appetizers.
“I don’t even know what that is, so there,” Altansarnai gave a smug smile before pinching one of the appetizers and flicking it into her mouth, “Little hot.” She made a face as she exhaled wildly.
Ai huffed. “No, Altan, you’re supposed to blow on it first - I told you this when you were four.”
“Why can’t you just serve them at food temperature,” Altansarnai swallowed hard. Ai rolled her eyes and continued to serve the other arrivals.
“Always with the hard hitting questions that leave even the best Dreamer thinkers on edge,” A sing-song voice laughed, the speckled face of Li leaning into the conversation, only to be intercepted by a large Chagatai hug.
“You’re damn right,” Altansarnai pointed a finger, “And it doesn’t stop there, either.”
“Now, if it isn’t our lieutenant!” Wenbo hurried over as fast as his ageing legs could carry him and hugged Li as soon as Chagatai let him go. “How are you, lil’ Li?”
“And where have you been?” Chagatai smiled as he asked, “It’s been a while since we had heard from you.”
Li opened his eyes wide, “Well, do I have a story for you guys.”
“Usually it’s the other way around,” Altansarnai poked Li’s cheek and he brushed the spot with the back of his hand.
He looked down at the ground, “I know, I know,” His smile was thoughtful, “But no really... I was out with my grandson Urangtai looking for grubs to bait a few traps when I heard a song from the heavens themselves... I think I met one of the Weavers of K’nell. From the stories.”
“Nooo… You did? Wait, did you stroll too close to the Forbidden Forest?” Wenbo accused playfully.
The playfulness was lost on Li as he held his hands up, “No! I swear. I was in the fields... the weaver was sitting on that flat rock our mother used to bring us to.” He held out his hands as if to hold an instrument, “Plucking along a strange instrument and singing strange lyrics. It was so beautiful, I have to admit I was brought to tears.” He held his head proud, as if that was impossible.
“Tears? You?” Chagatai rubbed his chin, indulging the man.
“Yes,” Li nodded furiously, “I never experienced anything like it.”
“Huh,” Wenbo hummed. “Is Urangtai here to confirm the story?”
“You don’t believe him?” Altansarnai turned to Wenbo, “Has Li ever been a liar?” Wenbo motioned for her to quiet down and gave her a sly smirk, to which she narrowed her eyes at.
Chagatai grasped his chin anxiously as he watched his wife’s face turn a shade of red, but Li cut in with a quick, “Of course... er.” He turned his head, “Urangtai! Get over here.”
The lanky young man jogged on over, a deep yellow strip leading straight down from his right eye, “Yes Grandfather Li?”
“Tell your Elder Wenbo what you saw by the flat rock of the fields.”
Altansarnai was still staring daggers at Wenbo as Urangtai suddenly exploded into a story, “... The music was unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It was soft, but quick. Happy yet sad. So many mysterious things were said... and at the very end -- the weaver stood up, disguised as a Dreamer and approached us.”
Li bowed his head as Urangtai finished, “And asked us to pray with him.”
Wenbo grinned. “Ah, just as the stories say. So, Urangtai, have you proposed to my granddaughter yet?”
Urangtai’s eyes widened, “S-Song?” He looked at Li who shrugged and then back at Wenbo, “This was a trap?”
“Congratulations, boy,” Chagatai slapped his back, “You figured it out.”
Altansarnai finally let out a hissing steam, “You--” She pushed Wenbo, “At least tell me beforehand, geez. I thought a quoll crawled up your ass.”
Wenbo cackled maniacally and patted Altansarnai on her back, then himself on the spot where she had pushed him. “A strategy is best kept secret, lest the opponent can read your every move.” Wenbo then reached over to squeeze Urangtai’s shoulder. “A trap, it may have been, son, but nothing like the trap of marriage - oh, but don’t worry, it’s a nice trap, that. So, have you popped the question yet? Just so you know, you’re all she ever talks about. I snap near stopped going to Tian’s house because of Song’s yapping. You’ve got good chances, son.”
“Oh,” Urangtai said dumbly, “Right... well...”
“Urangtai is scared of Wen Song,” Li explained and Urangtai jumped in his spot.
“I’m not scared,” Urangtai defended himself, “Just... no disrespect Elder Wenbo, but she can be a little intense.”
“Intense?” Altansarnai cocked a head, “Sweet little Song? She couldn’t harm a ghost fly.”
“I don’t think he means your kind of intense,” Chagatai put an arm around Altansarnai, “The other kind.”
Urangtai gave Wenbo a weak smile “I like her, I do!”
“Beware! Beware! She’s -craaazy-!” came a voice from behind Wenbo, followed by multiple cackles. Wenbo swung around and saw his granddaughter Cai sprint away with a few others. He shook his fist after them.
“Cai! Don’t sabotage your cousin’s wedding, you-...!” He shut himself up and turned back. “Don’t mind her. You know how she is.”
“Who said wedding?” Urangtai squeeked.
“I believe that would be Song,” A well squared jaw popped over Urangtai’s shoulder, the bearded face of Bataar holding a bright smile, “Even I’ve heard her wedding plans.” He slipped in next to his father, Chagatai, who gave him a slap on the back.
“What?” Urangtai paled.
“It has something to do with your names shaved into the sides of a thousand tree-eaters, and enough honey to spell out her love for you with the cloudlings themselves,” Bataar arched a brow.
“My name isn’t even that long,” Urangtai bit his fingers, eyes wide.
“Maybe you should tell her that,” Bataar winked at Wenbo, “Over a glass of sweetgrass wine, perhaps?”
“I will!” Urangtai stomped a foot.
Wenbo grinned. “Make sure to do that today, though - after dinner. I can tell you of a nice spot in the vegetable gardens where the cabbage patches make it really hard for peepers to peek in.” He nudged the young lad with his elbow. “If you’re lucky, the wine pot Temüjin buried there back in the day might still be full. Knock yourselves out.” He patted Urangtai proudly on the shoulder. “Make us proud, grandson-in-law.”
Urangtai puffed up his chest and huffed off, unsure of what he was doing anymore.
“Tame the wild beast!” Bataar called after him, only slightly cringing as he turned back to make eye contact with Wenbo, “All due respect of course.”
“Naturally,” Wenbo nodded.
A sweet, musical laughter appeared behind Li, followed by a quiet sigh. Flanked on the side by a warmly-grinning Ai, Bayarmaa gently stepped into the conversation circle. She had a soft, slightly wrinkly smile about her face that seemed to beam like its own version of heliopolis.
“Oh, our sweet, little boy…” she mused and leaned her head on Li’s shoulder. “He’s grown into such a handsome man… Must be your looks, Li.” She gave her husband a playful smile and rubbed her alabaster hair against his cheek. She turned to the crowd and giggled. “It’s so nice to see you all again - as always, it’s way too long between each time. Look at you all, as wonderful as you always have been.” She eyed Bataar up and down. “Oh, little Batty, you’re just as handsome as your father.”
“Oh stop,” Both Bataar and Chagatai said at the same time. Altansarnai sucked in a breath, a laugh on her lips.
“How is Chenghis anyways?” Li asked Bataar.
Bataar made a satisfied face, “He is good, nearly a man now. He has a growing fondness for the White Tree Eaters. I think our friendship with the herd is finally turning into something greater.”
“And all it took was for one dreamer to wrestle one to the ground,” Altansarnai looked up at her husband, “Who woulda thought.”
“The trick was, I wasn’t thinking,” Chagatai winked and Altansarnai gave him a curled smile. Bataar furrowed his brows and shook his head.
“But yes, Chenghis is doing well.”
“That is wonderful to hear,” Bayarmaa assured. “So, Wenbo - a family gathering like this is so fantastic of you to arrange, but, really, why did you call us all here? You’re not usually the one to plan the family gatherings.”
“No, we are,” Ai added with a smirk, but then gave Wenbo a worried, yet reassuring look. The Thinker chuckled at Bayarmaa’s remark, though his smile quickly faded.
“Zhongcheng, Laia and their children shouldn’t be too far away now. I reckon Temüjin and Ansong aren’t far behind them again. Make yourselves comfortable. I’ve got a lot to share.”
The dreamers slowly filled up the courtyard, and as they did, they found mattresses, blankets, carpets and pillows to sit on. All the five main clans, headed by the married couples of the original ten dreamer children. Cousins and siblings all sat mixed up, however; cheeks were poked; hugs, exchanged. A beautiful rainbow of Ashallan birthmarks and primitively dyed clothes coloured the otherwise monochrome sight. In front of the crowd sat Wenbo in the doorway of the dining house. He looked outwards at the crowd, a sad smile on his lips. He looked at Ai, who once more gave him a somber, reassuring look. He licked his teeth in a quick motion and stood up. He extended his hands forward and inclined his head.
“Welcome, each and every one of you! It’s, wow, it really is unreal seeing you all again after such a long time since our last big gathering. Sure, I’ve visited some of you since then, but, snap (excuse the language), seeing every single one of you here is just crazy.”
Ai rolled her eyes and the children giggled.
“The quicker the words, the sooner the feast!” Chagatai called out and a roar of laughter followed his jeering. Shoulders were punched and hands came to pat Chagatai, almost egging him to continue -- but the man gave Wenbo a respectful wink and settled into his seat.
Wenbo grinned for a moment and continued, “Now, all of you might be wondering why I actually called everyone here. Now, as dear Bayarmaa said, it’s wonderful to see you all here - see how you’ve grown and aged. Our family truly is blessed with good looks, gotta say.” He snickered to himself, backed up by a few blushing giggles in the crowd. Then, his tone caught a melancholic sense about it. “However, as much as I would love to meet just for the sake of seeing you all, there is a deeper plot behind this summoning.”
Wenbo stuck a hand into the fold of his robe. From a pocket inside he pulled out a plump, ripe stalkplum, its hard, yet flaky outer shell revealing the nutritious yellow orb in its centre. “Can anyone tell me what this is?”
“A stalkplum!” the children exclaimed in an adorable excuse for unison. Wenbo nodded.
“That’s right. It’s a stalkplum. Perfectly ripe and delicious for grinding into plum meal for your flatcakes. Remember who taught us how to harvest these?”
“Mother Xiaoli did!” the children once more exclaimed. A few of the mothers picked up the more enthusiastic toddlers and caressed them calmly in their arms. Wenbo nodded.
“That’s right. Mother Xiaoli taught us to work the soil, and thanks to that, our people have not gone hungry for as long as any of us can remember, really. We’re all forever thankful to her for that, aren’t we? Aren’t we?”
The dreamers began to giggle and clap in appreciation. Wenbo clapped and snickered. “Yeah, yeah! None of us would be here without mom and mother - none of us. Which is really why I wish they were here for this…” He sucked in a breath and sighed. A number in the crowd exchanged uncertain looks. Wenbo continued, “See, the reason I bring up the topic of this stalkplum is that the teacher who taught mother how to farm came to me in a vision.”
There came a number of gasps. Temüjin crawled a little closer to hear better. Bayarmaa covered her mouth with her hand. Wenbo pursed his lips and Chagatai turned his head slightly, suspicion crossing his eyes. One of the children raised a hand and Wenbo pointed at her. The child spoke, “Who taught mother?” and Wenbo make a wry frown.
“His Lordship Shengshi, the great God of the Rivers and the Harvest. He came to me and said some kind words, and then left me with a proposal.” He rolled the stalkplum around in his hand.
“What was his Lordship’s proposal?” Chagatai asked for the host of Dreamers, standing up.
Wenbo took in a lungful of air. “His Lordship has requested that I bring my whole family, as well as any others who want to follow, to the southern shore of Tendlepog, by the cliff beaches. There, His Lordship will wait for us and, once we have come to him, he will take us to a new home, a promised land.”
“But we already live in a promised land,” Chagatai furrowed his brow, “Why leave the land promised to our mothers?”
Wenbo nodded. “A valid question. Even though His Lordship said this land was fat and ripe with nourishment and sweet water; with challenges and mastery; a land where winter never comes - even though He promised all this, do we not already have it here?” He paused for a moment, looking down at the stalkplum in his hand again. “You see, that was not all that was promised. Settlement in this new land was merely the mission - a mission rewarded with a gift.”
Temüjin rose up and walked over next to Chagatai, crossing his arms over his chest. “What manner of gift could be enough to leave home, Wen-Wen?” His voice was almost somber. Wenbo winced a little at the tone, a hurt expression crossing his face.
“Remember the mountain,” Chagatai warned simply, one hand falling on his left arm where the tiger’s pelt covered a gruesome scar.
Wenbo nodded at the two, glancing to Ai for support. This time, however, even she seemed uncertain. The Thinker closed his eyes. “This reward is greater than a handful of shiny pebbles, Chaggie, and perhaps even worth leaving home for.”
“Is it?” Chagatai asked, “Sometimes you’d think that there must be a greater field over the moving mountains, only to find the dustlands. How do you know?”
“I have a god’s word, Chaggie - a god’s word that, should we complete the mission, the blood of my people - as well as any others who come along - will be blessed with prosperity for eternity.”
“What do you call this?” Altansarnai jumped to her feet.
“Can we complete the mission?” Another, younger Dreamer suddenly asked, his face similar to that of Zhongcheng.
“Altan, please, let me finish,” Wenbo said and turned to the young dreamer. “The mission is simply to settle the lands, so I reckon it’s very possible.”
“I do not disagree,” The younger dreamer piped up again, known as Zhong Wang, “But I have to wonder, as there are lands we have encountered that we cannot settle -- and Elder Zhongcheng has always taught us to question the simplicity of requests. I beg for your wisdom, Elder, but put forth my own on the matter.”
Wenbo nodded proudly. “As you should - believe me, I have run these requests over and over in my head and wondered ceaselessly why, oh why His Lordship would want us in his plans. Still, what he has promised the bloodlines of those that follow him - this cannot be ignored.”
“Zhong Wang, Elder Wenbo, if I may,” Bataar stood up now, “I too am a student of Zhongcheng, as well as that of my own lineage, and I remember the third warning of Zhongcheng -- should we solve the problem as it stands, or should we ask why we are making it a problem? I stand with my father and my mother when I ask, what can be applied to our lineage that we cannot find here? We live under the guise of the Creator God of this land itself, as well has his creation, our Elder Mother. Are we wanting?”
Wenbo sighed. “You already are wise beyond your years, Bataar - likely much wiser than me. However, allow me to quote His Lordship and say his words as he said them to me.” Wenbo reached into his robe once more and took out a scroll made up of strips of bark tied together with thread. He unrolled it and held it up for all to see. “As soon as he had spoken to me, I wrote down all he had said. Many words would have been forgotten, had I had a similarly long conversation with anybody else - but these words, my family, these words are forever carved into my mind. Pay attention, all of you, for these are His Lordship’s words:I will never let you starve nor your crops fail, and wherever you walk, wealth shall appear in abundance. Your cups will never empty and your guests will never leave thirsty. All this and more, I, Shengshi, promise you and your kin, my child.”
After reading, he paused.
“Do you find your cup empty, Wenbo?” An unfamiliar voice gently rose from the audience, a tall dreamer standing up. He had long alabaster hair and silver eyes, with no mark on his forehead and a wrinkle by each eye that betrayed him older than even Chagatai. Li suddenly paled, shaking Bayarmaa’s shoulder wildly and mouthing ‘it’s him’ over and over.
Wenbo blinked and lowered his scroll. “Forgive me, friend, but… D-do we know you?”
“I am the man who bound your parents’ hands in marriage,” The dreamer answered, folding his hands into his lap, “Does your mouth run dry?”
“The man who bound our--” Wenbo began before his eyes widened to nearly twice their size. His knees buckled and the old dreamer fell to his hands, prostrating himself and provoking the same reaction from all the others. “O-oh, merciful--... Great God, o merciful God.”
“Has my garden lost its splendor?” K’nell asked, a finger pinching his clean chin.
“O-of course not, Your Holiness - the garden of T-Tendlepog cannot ever lose its splendor. Life here is idyllic, t-truly!” He pushed his forehead as far into the soil as his could, nearly muffling his voice.
K’nell tapped the back of Wenbo’s head once, “Then stand and tell me: if you do not wish to leave for the wealth of Shengshi, nor because my kingdom is lacking, then why?”
Awed and shaken, Wenbo rose to his feet and swallowed. An additional moment was taken to find the correct words, characterised by silent movements on his lips. He stood, as proudly as he could, and spoke, "... It is a divine mission, and the world out there is… Well, we know nothing of it save vague stories of ancient lands passed down from our mothers. Here, neither mouth nor stomach goes empty, and I'll be certain that my children and their children will forever grow up in peace and tranquility." He paused and his oldest son, Ren, stood up as well, eyeing his father. "... And yet, my heart is wanting, o greatest God. It is as my brother said: I have foolishly attempted to find suitable land beyond the moving mountains, and in my youth, I even dared set foot in the Sacred Woods - as I am certain His Holiness remembers…" He lowered his head in shame. "Still, while the beauty of Tendlepog is endless and its bounty, rich, my wanderlust, my spirit, is found wanting."
"Then speak of it in no other way," K'nell commanded, "And then you may go, as the choice is yours -- but only after you bear witness to three warnings."
He held up one finger, "To leave my kingdom, is to leave the closest you may be with me. You will be without the unseen angels that protect you here, there will be no ensured paradise beyond my borders and my promises of future and end go only as far as my music can be heard. You will be at the mercy of other forces."
He held up a second finger, "To leave my kingdom, there is a chance that you nor your descendants may ever be able to return. The world is mysterious, and my garden shall only grow more hidden and safe, until my final promise is met."
He held up a third and final finger, "I say to you now the final warning, do not leave until I rip open the sky, or you and all who leave will be forever lost. You will know when it is done, as it will be obvious and will usher back your two mothers."
Wenbo felt sweat moisten his skin. His son Ren came over to him and took his hand. “Dad, we-... We’re happy here, right? I mean, the warnings-... You heard him, right?” He looked between his father’s indecisive expression and K’nell’s dreamer form. “Right?”
Wenbo lifted his gaze to regard K’nell again, a determined flicker dancing within the black of his eyes. “Is the outside world as grand and mysterious as the stories told?”
"Mystery and grandiose is what you make of it, Wenbo. You stand on but a small slice of land crafted by the God of riddles and the God of sleep at the dawn of creation, yet you look thirstily elsewhere -- so by your eyes, you will either find what you seek in the new lands, or you will thirst for yet another land after a taste." K'nell paused, "Hermes, your mother, had traveled the lands at the dawn of creation -- I only suspect that this fire and desire for adventure I had instilled in her is also in you. I am not punishing you for it, I am simply making you aware of what the choice entails. To comfort your soul I will now depart with two promises." He pursed his lips, "Firstly I shall listen to all who pray to me, so keep my name in your heart, and my mark on your mind. Secondly, no matter the deed, should you or any descendent of any who leave find their way back to the soil of Tendlepog despite the perils of my second warning, they shall be welcomed back as a once lost son or daughter."
Wenbo gave his son a look, who returned it with concern. Wenbo then eyed his family, sampled their reactions and turned back to K’nell. “I understand, great God…” He turned to Chagatai with a half-smile and let out a single chuckle. “I’m sorry for not telling you about this alone like we used to, Chaggie - now I wish I had discussed it with you before I told everyone.” He wrinkled his nose and turned to K’nell again. “Then I will wait until the sky is torn apart. I will not demand anyone come with me, of course - not even my own family. I know that is what His Lordship demanded, but I won’t force anyone to accept these terms.”
"As you shouldn't," K'nell agreed, "Should you forget every lesson I have ever departed on your kin and minds, always remember that a choice belongs solely to its owner and can never be forced, nor can a thought, nor an opinion."
Wenbo nodded. “Understood, great God.”
"Is it?" K'nell asked with a smile, "I shall be with you in every dream, to my palace you will all return." With little more, K'nell turned away and began to walk out of the estate. As he did, a shimmering trailed behind him, and a host of weavers flooded into existence, parading the God through the dreamers until he was long into the distance.
The crowd collected themselves again, sitting back up one by one. Ren exchanged looks with his father, and Wenbo himself surveyed the expressions among the Dreamers before him.
"Well, there you have it," he finally said, "the terms have been set - a promise of a holy bloodline in a great world beyond, or an eternity of safety and tranquility here. The choice is yours, my family. I… I will go. Whomever wishes to join me are welcome to do so." Before he let anyone else speak, he raised a palm. "Please, take time to think this through. While our God invited us back should we wish, I suspect it will not be as simple as one may think."
The crowd remained silent, then some chatter began to rumble.
"With the words of the second warning and the perils of the second promise, I hope no one thinks it is simple," Chagatai could be heard grumpily talking to Altansarnai. The woman didn't respond, a hurt look on her face as she listened to a few of the mumbles. Finally the leader shouted above the murmurs.
"We break for our feast, then we tend to our homes."
“Agreed,” Temüjin added with relief in his voice and clapped his hands together. Bayarmaa smiled and shuffled towards the kitchens, trailed by a host of grandchildren. Wenbo sat himself down in the doorway, propping his head on a fist with a groan. Children and grandchildren passed by him as they went inside to grab the various prepared dishes - some of them squeezed Wenbo’s shoulder in sympathy, though no one said anything. Wenbo wrinkled his nose and rubbed his face with a rugged palm.
“Gods, what am I doing,” he mumbled to himself.
“Trying to oust me as the man of crazy ideas,” Chagatai answered, plopping down next to his twin, “You should know how it works: I get both of us in over our heads, you think us out of it, and then I take the blame, but use my rugged good looks to get a few laughs out of it.”
Wenbo snickered. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m way out of my league here. Not used to being the dumbass.” He nudged Chagatai’s arm playfully.
“Exactly, everyone thinks it is easy being the idiot of the group, but really it is a lot of work,” Chagatai pumped a fist to his chest, “But this is a whole new level of strange… and if you go on with it, well there won’t be…” He twisted his lips into a frown, “Well, the twins.”
“Yeah, I know… It’s just-...” He stopped himself. “There is this clump within me - an insatiable lust for, well…” He looked at the surrounding nature. “We have everything here, Chaggie. Everything and yet-... No matter how far I take my staff and go exploring, so much looks… Alike. Even that which changes is predictable in its next form - the moving mountains will always be mountains, no matter if they’re in the east or the west, and beyond them will always be an endless desert that we know doesn’t lead anywhere.” He shook his head. “No, I’ve thought a lot about mom’s stories lately… There are apparently mountains so tall out there that you cannot even see the peaks, and forests so dense that they might as well be one single mass of wood and foliage. Then, think of the wildlife, Chaggie - think of all that which can be sampled and studied out there!”
“Wen-wen,” Chagatai sucked in a breath, “I’m every bit mom’s son the same as you, and I love my adventures -- I mean don’t even get me started on the white herd… but this is different. I’m not Zhongcheng or Bayarmaa but I think the big reason why your speech sort of flopped was because you kept--” Chagatai pursed his lips. “Wenbo, the reason the others look to me for guidance is because every damn adventure since the mountains with Li when we were kids has been for them, not for me -- and you just spent a moot telling us all that the reason we should go over was for things we already have when the real reason was your wanderlust.”
“... I couldn’t very well lie - not to Him. Besides, what else should I have said?”
“The truth, always the truth,” Chagatai furrowed his brow, “If you had said that you had been given a chance to fulfill your wanderlust and were looking for like minds, maybe then I could see a justification, but you asked us to uproot for a better life. I hate the idea of you leaving no matter the cause, but I can at least respect the truth.”
“But it always was the truth! What I said was exactly what His Lordship told me!” Wenbo tightened his hand into a fist and scowled at nothing in particular. “He promises a better life - all this, He said… The adventure is second hand to Him, but first hand to me, that is all.”
“I’m not a smart man,” Chagatai narrowed his eyes, “But you are -- so I assume you at least asked this God what he meant by a better life, what the details were -- to see if they were so grave to leave the light of another God and all their bounty. You remember the stories of our mothers’, each God has a very different view, of course whatever his Lordship Shengshi offers will be better on his tongue, but is it better on yours?”
Wenbo drew a breath through the nose. “A god of rivers and grain offering an eternity without hunger and thirst and wealth must be knowing what He is talking about.” He shot a sideways glance at the treetops in the distance.
“It sounds to me like you enjoy the broad strokes of his words,” Chagatai accused, “You know as well as I do that a god isn’t defined by their specialty. Did the God of rain create our cloudlings, did the God of the hunt create our beasts, or was it the God of sleep and the God of riddles who made the very stone we walk on. The God of Rivers made half our flesh, but never touched a river on this land, even.”
“You’re right - no other god has ever made anything in these lands; no one but our guardian. Apart from half the soil, all of its inhabitants are purely His work.” Wenbo gestured to the sky. “Can you imagine it, Chaggie, just how much we are missing? The God of Rain did not create the cloudlings, no - the God of the Hunt did not create our beasts, no; we know not at all what they actually have created, or if they have created anything at all. There is a world beyond this land, and to leave it, we have to abandon the chance to return.” He blinked a little and gave the ground a blank frown. “In fact, is it not a little odd that it is so difficult for leavers to return?”
Chagatai stared blankly for a while before slowly shaking his head, “Not if the world outside our little paradise is a threat. I’ve trapped by many burrows to understand that -- and that’s why I can’t come. I gave up the idea of being a wild adventurer the day I realized my responsibility is to all my kin. If this is the safer option, then I have to lead our people forward here and here alone. This land is vast and holds many challenges, I cannot forsake them, not now.”
Wenbo blinked rapidly and looked down, a little moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. He nodded barely. “Yes… Yes, that is understandable.” He snickered quietly. “Always the responsible one, you were. Without fail, you still are. I may have had the solutions, the strategies, but never that sense of responsibility that you have.”
At this point, a few of the dreamer children had gathered to listen to the two elders’ discussion. Wenbo eyed them with a weak smile. “No, Chaggie, you’re right. Your place is here. If our people aren’t already safe in this haven, they certainly will be as long as one of your blood watches over them.” He snickered and pushed himself to his feet, placing two hands on his lower back to push out a lasting ache. “But me, well…” He gave Chagatai a orange-ringed wink. “... I always had cities to plan, farms to dig - stones to find…” He gazed into the horizon. “Would you tell Ai I’ve gone for a walk? I need a moment with my mind.”
“Warden watch you,” Chagatai gave a slant of smile, “I’ll be here.”
Wenbo nodded in gratitude and walked towards the gates, hands collected behind his back.
