Chapter 14 Stairs In The Woods
Xiaoyu
Today has been…something.
The conditions I’ve seen so far in Esoterra have been heartbreaking.
The crystal waters, downstream river flow have significantly dropped, affecting the whole ecosystem.
The ground is parched, there are earthquakes every now and then.
It’s as if the earth hates Esoterra, but I know that’s not the case.
It all boils down to Datu. Everything is connected to him.
Apart from this symbiosis, there’s something weird about the way he watches me.
When he thinks I’m not looking, an eerie look falls over his face.
He likes to lick and bite his lips every time he does it.
The animal in me wants to run, but I get the distinct feeling he'd absolutely love this.
Contrarily, his deep focus isn't returned by his people. They refuse to look him in the eyes. It seems more of like a conscious effort than anything else. Why? Whatever this mystery is, it got its teeth under my skin.
It’s a tight-knit community here, their homes tall huts and treehouses connected by hanging bridges.
Some even just tie up hammocks between trees.
They have a community kitchen where they eat what little they can get.
At closer inspection, I see a head of a yak laid carefully on what looks like a small shrine with flowers.
What’s with Terra and their shrines?
I remember the forest last night, though.
Mahoganies and fruit-bearers so close together, but so full of life.
It doesn’t make sense. The human logic is to find the root cause why there’s a drought…
but Ingar had taken me here to treat Datu.
Not the island. I quietly watch Datu as he carefully slides a needle into the leather of one of my boots. He’s stitching it up.
My heart flutters as a thought crosses me.
I am old. The island’s wellbeing is tied to my health.
No. Hell naaawwww.
Is…Datu having a dry spell? Jesus Christ, my head is spinning.
“Here, I think I sewed that correctly.” He ambles over to me and chucks my chin. He dusts off my feet first before slipping them on.
I’m motionless, my mind malfunctioning once more.
“The lights are on, but nobody’s home…” he chuckles as he tightens the knot.
I scowl, offended once again. “Did you just call me stupid?”
“I believe it also means you are not processing information well.” He rebuts.
“An understatement.” I grumble and, on impulse, take his hand. “I’m so for fucking real right now—are you causing the drought? I need the truth, Datu. Please, I’ll even crawl and beg again.”
He sucks in a breath, releasing after a few pensive seconds. “It is best to have this conversation elsewhere then.”
I smack his arm and shake my head. “This is not a joking matter.”
“I’m not joking.” Is his only reply before he adds, “I will let Savi know we are taking our leave.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to my altar.”
Altar? “Your…platform? Stairs in the woods?”
He nods solemnly.
“But that’s at least four hours away!”
“It won’t be.” He says cryptically and just leaves me there with my mouth hanging open.
If I don’t get answers soon enough, I might just lose it.
The air hits different in the forest. It’s not dry and hot—it’s wet, musty, a warmth that drips down like blood. For a second, I feel like I’m inside a cavernous mouth, hugging sacs of fruit again.
The trees bend and literally make a pathway for us. Datu crouches and I climb up his back.
“How long until we get there?”
“Five minutes,” he replies and jogs.
“What—you have altars just built all over the island?”
“This is one I built for myself.”
“Where are your walls? Doors?”
“I do not need any, I am protected by the forest.”
“Still doesn’t answer why you have an altar instead of a regular home.” I mutter, hugging his shoulders tighter.
“Humans have weak skin. You have been sheltered and you are now experiencing its effects.”
Touché. There’s a metaphor in that somewhere. “So is this just gonna turn into a bitter, resentful speech about how humans are shitty or are you answering why you have an altar?” There’s something off about everything. The others have homes. Huts. “Is it an ego thing?”
As soon as I say it, I know that’s not it. This is far more than an ego trip. Just then, he stops a few feet away from the steps of his altar. Stairs in the middle of the woods. It’s absurd.
“Are you prepared to learn the truth?”
I shift and wiggle. “I want to be on my feet for this.”
He sighs and lets me go. “I was enjoying your cunt pressed up against me.”
I gasp and smack him again. “Wash your mouth with soap!”
“Why? What happens when I use filthy language?”
“I-I don’t know! Social decorum, and stuff.”
He grimaces at me. “Really, Xiaoyu? Decorum in my forest?” Datu grins at me like I’d just challenged him.
“You are purposely derailing me. Answer my questions first. Why do you have an altar?”
“I like this. Tit for tat. I have an altar because people need a place of worship. This is mine.”
“Worshipping who?”
“Another question for another price,” he chuckles.
Infuriating man! I cross my arms over my chest. “What is it now?”
“You are so restrained that I want you to start cursing out loud. All the filthy words.”
Fuck. “Okay.” He gives me an expectant look and I release a tired breath. “Fuck yeah.”
“You have the most eager disposition,” he says dryly. “Smile, laugh, Xiaoyu. Human life is too short to be so grim and surly.”
Rubbing my hands over my face, I grab his arm and drag him toward the creek. “You still owe me an answer.”
“Yes. The Terra worship the God of Void.”
That’s just not making sense. Plant people should be worshipping something else, not a god of nothingness. “Why not Mother Nature, huh?”
It’s quick, but a look of anger flashes across his face. “The humans have killed Mother Nature.”
“Are you for fucking real? Gods don’t die.”
“They don’t, but they lose their godhood when they are underappreciated.”
Hence, the altar, the shrines, the ceremonies. “And you know this how?” I ask suspiciously.
“I am more than a millenia-year old, Xiaoyu, it would be more baffling if I did not know any of these.”
I keep forgetting that Datu’s very old already. It doesn’t help that he’s started to mimic my speech and talk like someone my age.
“And to answer your question, I was there when Mother Nature flourished. I know the difference very well.”
“God of Void and Mother Nature are…real people?”
“That is a loaded question, don’t you think?”
I frown, looking down at my dirty hands. I’d been digging around the whole time we were in Sikat when I wasn’t note-taking. I felt sticky and hot, but the soil felt weird. I know what it’s like to dig my hands into sand, soil, even cow poop. That had not been it.
“Yeah, I guess it is. But I’m just wondering if this worshipping actually works, and not in vain. There are so many religions out there…”
“And—according to you—plant people don’t exist back there.”
“If what you’re saying is true, what happens when people forget about Mr. Void?”
“Something much worse than this.”
A deep tremble begins in my bones. I’m terrified of the dark, of nothingness, but that fear is only but the size of the tip of a micron pen. Cover the whole Earth with the pen ten times over, and that is not even half of the fear I feel.
“I can’t believe we went from talking about your questionable choice in housing to this existentialist conversation.” I try to joke, but it’s done. The seed of horror is there, planted.