Chapter 474 – Wisdom in Humbleness
Days had passed since the start of the Quest, and Kaden found himself drifting along with little to no clarity of mind.
His decision about what to do regarding Rea was still unclear. And from that indecision sprouted his new, strange relationship with the Malan tribesn.
Trying to clear his head, Kaden had begun to interact with them, hoping to gain a better understanding.
To say it was hard at first was being generous. It was like two people from two different continents — with different values, different cultures — trying to understand each other.
It was not possible. At least, not easily.
The tribesn were not hostile toward Kaden, per se. Nor were they welcoming.
According to the talkative Pandora clinging to him like a tail, so ti ago — in a distant past — two strangers had wandered into the Malan Tribe.
One of them was the one Pandora had quoted that day: the Wise Stranger.
According to her vague description, he was a man whose build and face didn’t match his wisdom at all.
Kaden had looked at her with scorn at the ti, asking how that description was of any use to him.
Pandora had taken it badly.
Kaden sneered at her, causing the girl to sulk for an entire day. He was genuinely happy for the mont of respite from her unceasing words.
It didn’t last long, of course.
Pandora’s mouth seed constitutionally unable to stay shut. So she opened it again and spoke of the second Stranger who had co alongside the Wise One.
That one was called Vainglory.
A man with red eyes deeper than blood — yet with a touch, a cloud, a note of blackness deeper than most that hung over them like the sky itself.
Pandora’s words about Vainglory were not kind ones. Kaden had no idea why.
Still, those two beings had altered the very fate of the tribesn. So were thrilled, the prospect of sothing new could do that to an otherwise monotonous society.
But most of them — those who took their founders’ words like a second holy scripture — did not welco their culture and way of living shifting because of intruders.
"So that is why I’m in a tight spot. Neither openly bullied nor warmly accepted." Kaden had deduced, earning a nod from Pandora.
Realising that, he had begun thinking of a way around it. He needed to know more about them in order to make a logical decision. There had to be consequences that involved the tribe whether he finished the Tower or not.
He needed to know why. Not necessarily because it would affect his decision, but knowing the full truth before choosing was always the wiser path.
...or so he thought.
Yet for that, Kaden Warborn had decided to take a drastic step: strip away all pretence and simply live as the tribesn did.
The first change he made was to himself.
One morning he walked out of his cave having changed both his clothes and his hairstyle to match theirs.
The look was a funny one. But the effect was imdiate.
In the blink of an eye, Kaden went from a strange intruder in foreign clothes to a humble young man showing genuine interest in their culture.
Few could resist the chance to defend and share the culture of their ho. The Malan Tribe was no exception.
They began teaching him how to gather the strange insects they ate and where to find water.
They advised him on what criteria to look for when choosing a woman, and what he himself would need to offer to be chosen in return.
Then they went on and on, discussing what he should do if unjustly wronged by a fellow tribesman. That particular one interested Kaden greatly.
If a family mber was unjustly killed by another, the retribution was clear.
A man for a man. A woman for a woman. A child for a child.
And if the victim’s family lacked the corresponding person for retribution, they must pay an appropriate amount of blessed rocks — the tribe’s currency — to be forgiven.
And yet, if the victim’s family chose to forgive, nothing needed to be paid. All debt was cleared, and that family would be looked upon kindly by the tribe for their heart free of blackness.
Kaden was struck by such a system.
And it went far deeper than that.
From politics, to marriage, to trade...everything was regulated, and whoever dared go against the rules would face punishnt.
The Malan tribesn were severe in their punishnts. One of them was to be sent into the church, tied to a boulder, and subrged in hot water for a number of days depending on the gravity of the offence.
It was also during that ti that Kaden learned the second rule of the Malan Tribe.
[Leave Unfinished Things Unfinished.]
That one made him snap. He cursed the Will outright. Yet it changed nothing.
From that sa week, too, Kaden had earned himself a na. An Epithet.
The Boy of Wisdom, whispered by the tribesn for his honourable choice to learn from them rather than close himself off behind his own beliefs.
Soon enough, the whispers of a boy with intriguing wisdom spread through the large Malan Village.
Fathers grew interested, seeing in him a potential son-in-law. Young won, and even older won, trained their ears toward whatever they could learn about the Boy of Wisdom.
And most importantly, the leaders of the village — the Shaman and the Historian — turned their attention to him.
At that point, things began to change.
...
"Are you serious?" Kaden asked incredulously, smiling and waving at a tribesman walking past him as he talked to Pandora beside him.
"Yes." The young girl said, voice oddly proud. "My father is the Historian of the tribe. And he wishes to see you."
"Why did you hide your identity from ?"
"Did I?" She cocked her head, genuine confusion written across every inch of her face.
Kaden sighed wearily and chose silence. It was too late to worry about it now. The Historian wanted to et him.
He had no choice but to oblige, if he wished to leave this place on good terms.
’Still, why does he want to see ?’
He couldn’t stop wondering. Yes, he had gained so strange popularity in the tribe, but nothing that warranted an audience with the Historian.
The Historian was deeply respected. So even placed him above the Shaman — the one who served as the Connector between the Spirit of the Goddess and her people.
That alone said everything about how important the Shaman was, and by extension, the Historian’s own status.
’In any case, it ca at a good ti.’ He continued walking, Pandora’s hand in his. The young girl couldn’t suppress her wide smile, happy that he let her hold on.
’I’ve learned most things about this tribe. But still nothing about how the Tower ca to be, why it’s unfinished, or what the connection is between the two.’
His eyebrows knitted together.
’And I need that information. Soon.’
Ti was running out. Kaden had been visiting Rea in the church every day throughout the past week. And with each passing day, her features were shifting faster and faster.
By now, little of Rea remained in her.
The Quest had given him no ti limit. But he would be a fool not to speed things up.
’What will you choose, Kaden?’ Reditha’s voice whispered through his mind.
He heard it, and offered no answer.
Monts later, he halted in front of an ornate cave made of rock. His eyes narrowed instinctively — the way the rocks had ford around the cave’s entrance was strange. Mysterious even.
It looked like a pattern. A pattern that felt like a wheel turning yet sohow not turning at all, describing sothing Kaden had no na for.
Yet he wanted to understand it.
Pandora, however, gave him no opportunity.
She tugged at his hand, pulling him out of his thoughts, and walked toward the half-open door in front of them.
"Co," she said, her voice oddly ta and nervous. "Father is waiting for you."
—End of Chapter 474—
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