Story of Solstiem
Solstiem shook the water from his long hair and looked behind himself: the foliage on the cliff above was still; he hadn’t been followed. He shuddered, less because of the chill water he had plunged into moments before, and more from the shock of what he had glimpsed in the caves above. Never before had he seen so many teeth. He coughed into his hand, and there was no blood. Solstiem grinned morosely; he wasn’t bleeding internally, there was always that.
After patting himself to make sure he still possessed his possessions, Solstiem took out his machete and stared at the thick branches and ferns that impeded his exit from the cliff base. Solstiem proceeded to hack away at the sea of green. He did not want to think what could lie just off his path through the maze of vegetation, but he did anyway, much to his own discomfort. After what felt like an hour hacking his way through the jungle and stepping on insects, Solstiem stumbled out into a clearing. Here, he wheezed hoarsely and dropped to one knee; exploring uncharted lands was not a job a sixty-seven year old man should have to do. After his brief rest, Solstiem stood up to see a long, curved knife being pointed in his face. Focusing himself, Solstiem realized that the knife was still, and not about to be shoved into his skull. Slowly, the aged man stood, never taking his eyes off the blade glinting in what sunlight split through the tree canopy. When he finally reached his full height, Solstiem saw that the knife was clutched by a creature not even two-thirds his size. The creature looked like a greenish child with fat, stubby limbs. It wore a smock that gathered at its feet in a pile of brown fabric. A tall, sloped hat rested on the creature’s head, which seemed to be half as big as its torso. The creature looked up at Solstiem, revealing its lumpy face and oversized nose and ears, before tucking its knife into its smock and saying, “You ain’t from around here, mate. Who are you?”
Solstiem, who always fancied himself highly amiable, smiled at the stumpy being that had pulled a knife on him, “Before I introduce myself, I must thank you for not injuring me with your weapon, kind sir.”
The creature glared up at him, “It’s Madam, mate, and there’s still plenty of time.”
Solstiem nearly gagged. He always fancied himself a bit of a ladies man (especially in his youth), and to him, all women were attractive. They could be unconventional, but never this unconventional. Still, Solstiem continued to answer the lady’s question, “My apologies, Madam. As for my name, I am known as Solstiem, explorer and cartographer from the Empire to the East. I was sent by the monarchs of my land to chart yours, so that my people could-”
“Are you trying to sell me anything?” snapped The Creature.
“Erm, no Madam. I wish to find out the lay of the land surrounding the-”
The Creature shuddered suddenly and dropped to the jungle floor. Before Solstiem could check if she had suddenly expired, The Creature rocketed back to its feet and, as if nothing had happened, said cordially, “Pleased to meet you, Mister Solstiem. Oh, but you must be exhausted; a man of your age out here by himself. Please, come with me. The Creature turned and began to waddle off into the dense wall of plants surrounding the clearing. Solstiem, having no better way of distancing himself from what dwelt in the caves, followed the strange being. Curiously, where The Creature had walked, the plants did not return to their usual places, creating a clear path for Solstiem to follow.
After a brief walk, Solstiem and The Creature arrived a wide tree. A small door was affixed to the tree, providing an egress. Solstiem looked at The Creature, “you live in a tree?”
“No, you ass, I live under one,” The Creature snapped. The creature advanced to its door and turned the handle. The entrance swung open, revealing a pathway down into the earth, illuminated by the faint blue glow of mysterious mushrooms that lined the passage. “After you, buddy-boy,” The Creature smiled.
Solstiem began down the steps, careful not to trip or be pushed by the diminutive shrew behind him. He walked down, with The Creature in tow. At least it was cooler than in the heat of the jungle. Soon enough, The Creature stopped him with a command, “hold it right there, chuckles, let me go ahead.” Solstiem did as he was told, less because of The Creature’s instructions and more because he couldn’t see past his feet: the light had inexplicably stopped. The Creature, passed him and stepped into the inky blackness. A few minutes later, Solstiem heard a sound similar to a firecracker detonating, and was blinded by a bright lilac light. When he regained his bearings (and his eyesight) Solstiem saw a sight that made his jaw drop. Before him was a cavern, illuminated by the light, that was piled high with gold, silver, and jewels. Rubies as red as roses tumbled from the heaps as The Creature emerged from the metal sea.
“Are these your riches, Madam?” Solstiem asked.
The creature chuckled, her laugh reverberating throughout the cave, “It’s my house, ain’t it?” The Creature slid down the golden hillock and landed in front of Solstiem. “Yeah, it’s my cash, mate, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“You live under the ground, in a jungle! What would be able to take it from you?”
“The Ossistorr,” The creature said, as if the words were made out of cat puke.
Solstiem looked skeptical, “The what?”
Sighing, The Creature sat down on a nearby pile of silver coins. Taking out a pipe and lighting it, The Creature, motioned for Solstiem to sit. Solstiem obliged, and The Creature began to speak.
“Once, a long time ago, a man came through the jungle. I don’t rightly know what you’re people would call him. Maybe a wizard or something. I call him a kook; He had the idea that he could bend the laws of nature to his will. To create new, incredible plants and animals. I didn’t know what he was gonna do with his creations; I didn’t think he could do it. Turns out, he wasn’t all bullcrap.”
“Soon, the number of animals in the jungle had become smaller and smaller. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I was sure that that quack had something to do with it. When I went to his house in the caves to the north, I couldn’t find him. Instead, living in the cave was a terrible beast. It looked like a fly, if a fly was the size of a large bull, and had the head of a crocodile, in addition to the head of a shark. I was sure it would eat me then, but instead it spoke to me. The animal said it was The Ossitorr, the greatest triumph of its creator. It said it could see into my mind and memory, and saw I possessed great riches, and that it was its mission to kill me and take my wealth for its master. After it was done running its mouths off, it came after me, but my jungle rose to protect me. I suspect it’s still alive, as I don't know how long it is supposed to live.”
Solstiem looked at the Creature quizzically, before saying, “it lives in the caves, you say? I think I ran into it,” Solstiem looked sheepish, “woke it up, even.”
The Creature nodded, before motioning Solstiem over. Obliging, Solstiem approached, only to be slapped hard across the face. “You’ve gotten me into a fine mess now!” The Creature bellowed, “nothing has bothered me for over two decades, and now you come along, and so does the Ossitorr!” Eventually, the hail of tiny punches relented, and the Creature stood away from Solstiem, muttering something he couldn’t hear, but sounded indisputably nasty. “I suppose it couldn’t be helped,” sighed The Creature after a long pause, “If it hadn’t come sooner, it would’ve come later.”
Solsteim stood up with a wobble, wondering how 20 years could be considered “sooner”. It was a lot to take in: possible wizards, a terrible monster, and a slap across the face from a tiny, cave-dwelling woman. “Is there a way to stop it?” Solstiem asked, risking another smack. The creature only sighed again.
“The jungle itself managed to hold it off, but now that it knows something new has arrived, it might become bolder,” The Creature tapped its pudgy finger against its chin, “maybe if we-.” She was cut off by a great, echoing crash that caused jewels and gold to tumble down the hills of riches and made the ceiling shake.
Solstiem and The Creature exchanged quick glances. “Yeah, bolder seems right,” Solstiem said.
The two bolted back up the long, earthy hallway to the surface. When they came to the front door, The Creature stopped Solstiem, “Now, do you have anything to help fight this thing?”, The Creature asked. Solstiem thought for a moment, and then knelt down to rummage through the satchel he wore at his side. From the depths of the bag, he produced a coil of rope, a hammer, a small bowl for cooking, a box of matches, and three phosphorus signal flares. Solstiem picked up one of the flares and looked it over for damage before saying, “I think we can use these.”
The sound of powerful limbs cutting a swath through the foliage around the tree became louder and louder as the Ossistorr flailed around, looking for a way into the tunnel that wouldn’t get it stuck. The Creature looked skeptically at Solstiem, “are you sure those will do anything? The Ossitorr is pretty fire-retardant.”
Solstiem grinned roguishly, happy he had thought of something The Creature hadn’t, “That thing lived in a cave for at least twenty years, without going outside. Right now, I think the only reason it could find us was the scent; It probably has fairly sensitive eyes by now.”
The Creature took one of the flares with a grimace, “I hope you’re right, buddy.” The two of them took up positions either sides of the hall, ready to swing open the door and attack. But the creature hesitated, “There is a real possibility that we could die horrible, painful deaths, you know?”
Gripping the door handle, Solstiem replied confidently, “If I wasn’t prepared to die, I wouldn’t have suggested this, now would I?” The door swung open.
Solstiem knew he wasn’t afraid. Unlike his first encounter in the caves, he now had light, a weapon, and an ally. But the Ossitorr still had teeth: many of them, two mouths full. The Ossitorr snapped its shark head and shook around; It knew something had appeared, but it couldn’t see what. Its eyes had crusted over with film from its time in the caves, and its bulky body was pale with lichen and moss. Thrashing against the trees, the Monster roared and bleated: A far cry from the speech it had once possessed. Solstiem ran by its legs, striking his flare alight on the insect-like exoskeleton of the Ossitorr. It had felt the scratch, and turned to face Solstiem. But it could not see anything other than a red light brighter than anything it could remember seeing. The spark burned itself into the Ossitorr’s eyes, as it rose to its hind legs to paw at its eyes. Solstiem sped back to The Creature, admiring his work, “I think that did the trick!” Solstiem said. The Ossitorr was hunched over, scratching at its face, until it heard Solstiem’s voice. Turning its two heads slowly, The Ossistorr growled at the figures before it. The film had been removed from its eyes, which now blazed red with hatred and burns. Opening its shark mouth, the Ossitorr spoke in a slow, harsh tone: “Your...treasure...is...mine!” It bellowed, lunging forward at Solstiem and The Creature. Solstiem lept out of the way, but as he turned, he saw The Ossitorr fall on its prey and tear at her. Solstiem began to shout, but was silenced by a deafening crack. The tall trees of the jungle bent toward The Creature’s attacker and swatted it off her small, still form. The Ossitorr snapped at the twisting trunks and branches, unaware they were coiling around its arms and legs. Before the Ossitorr realized what was happening, it was bound by massive shackles of wood. The monster howled, “This will not stop me! I-,” but its rage was cut off by grim realization. The canopy of the jungle had begun to part. Lances of sunlight shot through the clearing, much brighter than Solstiem remembered the sun being. When the light hit the monster, its skin cracked and burned. Fur caught fire and went up in smoke. Soon, the Ossitorr had stopped howling; in the branch’s grip was nothing more than bone and scraps of blistered chitin. Solstiem stood, surprised and breathing heavily. Lost in astonishment, he almost did not heard the rasping breath of his friend. Rushing over, Solstiem saw the extent of the brief seconds The Ossitorr brought its strength to bear on the The Creature; the small being had grown paler, as its greenish blood leaked from its extensive wounds.
The Creature cracked a weak grin, “Well, I got him better than he got me.” With a cough, She turned to Solstiem, “You know, I don’t think I’m gonna get better, friend.” Solstiem looked grim; he was an explorer, he had seen people die from less. The Creature gestured weakly to her home, “I can’t take my money with me, and Solsteim, I would be honored if you would put my wealth to good use.”
Solstiem nodded. He was happy to gain such a fortune, but not at the cost of a life; that was the kind of man he was. “Rest in peace, Madam,” Solstiem said quietly, as The Creature closed her beady eyes. Solstiem lifted the body and brought it to the edge of the clearing. The trees bent forward expectantly, their branches waving, as if to get a look at The Creature. After laying the body down in front of the trees, Solstiem stepped back. He was going to say a quick prayer, as his parents had taught him fifty years ago, before the branches scooped The Creature’s body up, like a child returning to its mother’s arms. Solstiem did not finish the prayer, and only nodded to the plants, before shaking his head and going to claim his reward.
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Visiting the Khan
I arrived in the camp of the Kahn a little before sunset. Children were heading home, taking their few belongings with them. Women were sweeping out egresses of the tents, clearing the day’s dust from their dwellings. As I sat, high atop my horse, surveying the nomad village, a tall, dour man approached me. He reached me and my steed and bowed. “Hello, highly honored guest,” he said, unsmiling. I did not get the impression that I was as honored as much as he said. He continued speaking, “the Kahn awaits you in his tent, sir.” I dismounted, and left my horse to be cared for by a small, dark-haired boy who followed the dour fellow. I followed the man, who introduced himself as the Kahn’s adviser and interpreter. He said he had been sent from Europe, much as I had been, though he showed no sign of it. His complete integration into the nomad’s society frightened me; I hoped I would not end up like him.
The dour man led me further into the camp, past the men smoking long hookahs and discussing the conquering of land further east, past the old women weaving cloth blankets with intricate, geometric patterns. As we passed, they looked up at me, and I saw a hint of admiration hidden behind the suspicion. I couldn’t fault them for being distrusting of me; that would change in time as I fulfilled my mission, and brought civilization to this savage country.
We came to a large crowd of people outside the Khan’s tent. The adviser parted the sea of sun-darkened heads, waving for the throng to part. The crowd stayed mostly silent as they stepped aside. I occasionally heard wives whispering to their husbands, or children to their parents. As I only knew a few phrases in the language of the Kahn, I could not understand what they said.
“They are discussing what your arrival could mean,” the adviser chimed in, as if he could hear my thoughts, “They wonder if you will share your sciences, your culture, and your god with them.” I smiled. The answer to all of these was yes, as it was my duty to my country and my church.
The adviser’s words took me back to the day I was sent on my long journey. The day the pope’s men came to a small town in the west of France. The men who were looking for Silas Kristoff, minister and leader of the community. These words are not my own; to boast in such a way would be far too prideful. A man should not talk of his own deeds: he should let his actions and his supporters speak for him.
Soon we arrived at the great tent of the Kahn. It was a gaudy affair, less the animal-skin- and-bones-yurt I had expected, and more a opulent, regal dwelling. burgundy ribbons stretched from the apex of the tent to the posts securing it to the ground. The adviser pulled open the flap that served as the tent’s entrance, and a cloud of strange-smelling smoke wafted out to our feet. “Don’t mind the smoke, Father Kristoff, It should clear out soon.” said the Adviser nonchalantly.
I nodded, and stepped through into the tent. Inside, a large man lay sprawled out on a mountain of cushions and silk. In one of his hands, he held a small glass of a clear drink I assumed to be alcoholic. In the other, he held the mouthpiece to a large hookah that rested on the floor of the tent. Around the man stood an assortment of guards and servants, ever eyeing anyone who entered their lord’s domain. As his eyes drifted lazily up to meet mine, he gently placed the hookah’s mouthpiece on the cushion beside him and beckoned me forward. As I approached, the immense man let out a long sigh and waved his retinue out of the tent. It was a substantial time before either of us actually spoke. Eventually, the Kahn cleared his throat and said, “You are this Kristoff, no?”
I bowed. “I am, great Kahn.”
From his nest the Kahn rose, with no small difficulty, to his full height. I was expecting the great Khan of the hoards to be more awe-inspiring; instead he was an unhealthy blob of a man. Why his Eminence feared this man at all was beyond me. “Thank you for arriving on such quick notice, Kristoff,” the Khan said with a large smile made larger by his broad face.
“If I may speak, great Khan,” I said, “I am addressed as ‘father’ Kristoff.”
The Khan looked me in the eyes and apologized, “I am sorry, ‘father’ Kristoff. I am as new to your culture as the rest of my people.”
“Well done, great Khan; I am confident that your people will soon mirror your wisdom.”
The Khan stepped back to his pillows, “thank you for your confidence, ‘father’ Kristoff; you may retire to your quarters.” I bowed to the savage chief quickly and slipped out of the tent.
The sun was dripping down behind the horizon, splashing the vast steppe a brilliant blend of crimson and gold. Perhaps God was active in this Godless land. The throngs of tribesmen had departed to their dwellings, and I did so as well. When I arrived at the tent that was allocated to me, my fatigue caught up with me, and I hastened to bed.
I opened my eyes to an orange light flooding through the walls of my tent. I knew it was not yet dawn, and I leapt from my bed to exit my tent. It was then I saw the mob.
Men, Women, and Children had poured from their tents in a flood, brandishing torches and sticks. At the head of the tumult road the Khan, who commanded his savage kinsmen with an ardour and fierceness I had not seen earlier. “‘Father’ Kristoff! I believe you know why we are here. I was frightened, and in my fear I cursed and bellowed at the savages; calling out to them about the terrible fate that awaited them in the pits of Hell. My words did nothing: the Khan’s people stood stoically, waiting like animals for their master to order the attack. The attack that never arrived. Instead, the Khan stepped down from his horse and strode over to me. I was about to demand an explanation when he put a curved knife to my throat. “I should have demanded someone better,” growled the Khan, “I attempt to make a good impression on behalf of my people, and you act as a small minded child, denouncing us as ‘godless savages’.” The Khan withdrew his knife, “we have prepared supplies and horses for your immediate departure ‘father’ Kristoff.” The Kahn climbed back onto his horse, and barked “and tell your pope to send someone better!”
It has been three months since my meeting with these savages, and in those three months, much has transpired. His eminence the Pope has appealed to the germanic monarchs whose land bordered the Kahn’s (of whom there are too many to name), calling for the Kahn and his troops to be driven from Europe. By the grace of God, the monarchs agreed, but I am told that the Kahn’s people were nowhere to be found.
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