Dust-spectives 1: A Day In a Life in Ferina Toridor

The account of a forest gnome and the mystery of her anguished heart.

One fine day in Sasu, the month of the jacinth moon, Medarozi got up from her bed, greeting the sun rays that shone through the skylights in her burrow. Medarozi was a forest gnome, a tailor by trade, and the time had come for Medarozi to carry out her every-other-daily routine. This new day was a market day in the province of Ferina Toridor.

Medarozi packed the many goods she had to trade in two sacks (since, as a Carbuncle-affinite Dustity, she was a very strong gnome) and set out of her burrow, into the woods. The forest she lived in was dense with enormous, ancient trees and flourishing shrubs woven together with raspberry brambles that Medarozi had to weave around as she walked in the summer heat. It was a fire year, the time of hot springs and summers, and the summer heat was a burden for Medarozi, but she kept walking at a steady pace. In a moment, she reached her first destination, a large structure that was made up of stone mounds. The calendar keeper of Medarozi’s part of the forest lived here. Every proper Dustity village needed a calendar keeper to track the days and weather patterns of their land.

In the stone house, there was a bookcase with many tomes and scrolls on it, a desk for writing more tomes and scrolls, a big tapestry on the back wall that showed the traits of magic in the local climate to expect this month, and a chalkboard beneath this tapestry that showed the dates of the month. Medarozi greeted the calendar keeper, Yundegun. He was an Eastern goblin with shiny gray skin and a very big nose. He wore just a pair of brown shorts today, though the air in the calendar keeper’s room felt as cool as a cave on a temperate day.

“You know that today is a market day,” Yundegun said, seeming docile as he usually did, but Medarozi knew him well enough to tell there was some sass in his voice as he spoke to her. “For what else have you come this morning, wuh’ta?”

Medarozi looked up at the tapestry and the image of Sasu’s orange moon that graced the center of it. “It’s odd,” she said, “that I think of him more often in Sasu than I do in any other month. I don’t think it has to do with the lack of holidays in this month. I have had days devoid of bustle before and he hadn’t crossed my mind, but…”

“In what kind of way does he cross your mind?” Yundegun smiled.

Medarozi looked at Yundegun, then smiled back at him, appreciating his humor. “When I recall his presence, I miss it, but not in that way, I think,” the forest gnome said. “It doesn’t make sense to me that it would happen in this month or this kind of year. The Curse happened to the Yarzemme in Biyar. That happens to be my birth month. But he comes to my mind most often in Sasu. I yearn for him the most in Sasu, but it’s not a ‘sarazem’ kind of yearning… I just want him back, and I wonder if he wants to come back to me as well.”

“As a friend?” Yundegun asked.

“...Just about, though I find myself missing what we’ve had before,” Medarozi said, feeling her sadness welling up in her chest.

“That’s strange, indeed,” Yundegun commented, keeping his scholarly attitude. “I can’t say I could speak from experience, but… Sarazem and the joy of close relationships are distinct. Luapitsipa is a good, honorable person. I don’t find myself wishing for him to return, but I can see why you do. It has been a hundred and forty-two years since the Curse occurred. How many of those years would you say have felt… empty?”

Medarozi took a short moment to think about that, then answered, “The past two years, I think.”

“Then your recent feelings may not have much to do with Sasu’s moon,” Yundegun said. He looked up at his tapestry of the month. “Two years ago was a water year and the onset of a new Zaina decade since the first Red Sky. Did you know that this year is the one thousand, one hundred and fifty-second year of the Red Skies? It is, indeed. The current year in our realm is 5713. The Curse happened in 5571. How about that? It was a water year when it happened and Luapi, among many others, left us. Perhaps it is the trend of water years and the changes in Dustity emotional energies that come with them that… are making some kind of blissful counter-energy to the lack of sarazem in our present lives.” Yundegun paused to do some math in his head, placing his hand on his chin. “About twenty-eight water years have passed since the Curse’s onset. They cannot break the Curse, but they might be doing something else. Our world can evolve, after all.” He nodded his head resolutely. “I must document this theory and the observations I make of it. But…”

“But what?” Medarozi asked.

“You’re the only Dustity who has come to my house and told me about these kinds of feelings,” Yundegun said.

“Maybe because they’re embarrassed about it,” Medarozi thought out loud. “You know Rototinen. She had a husband. I’ll ask her about this matter.”

“Good idea,” Yundegun said. “And we better get going. The hour of the Chatty Birds is coming, and I don’t want to miss their report.”

“Shall we meet again this evening?” Medarozi asked.

“I’d like to do that,” Yundegun said. Then the two of them exchanged farewells, and Medarozi left the stone house.

Rototinen’s house was in a different section of the forest west from the thicket where Medarozi resided. For about half an hour, she headed this way, past the songs of wild birds and the occasional fairy that whizzed over her head. She knew she was getting close to her stop when she spotted little tree houses in the branches above her, a dark dirt pathway beneath her feet, and ornate lamp posts with lights of varying colors at the forks of the dirt pathways. Although Ferina Toridor was a province where the daylight always shone, the canopy of the trees in this western district was heavy, thick with dark leaves, so the lamps were made to help people find their way in this otherwise dim part of the forest.

Then Medarozi found the beauty parlor. It was a massive building, one of the largest in the province, big enough to accommodate even ogres. It was made of pink clay and golden straw, and it was surrounded by carnation bushes and reflecting pools, which were bordered by oak trees that sheltered little homes made of sticks and clay. Medarozi passed through the onyx-dusted curtain in the parlor’s doorway and was greeted by the citrusy scent of orange onrizi flowers. She went to the corner of the parlor where Dustities could get their fur or hair done, and she found Rototinen there, waiting for business. Rototinen was a fairy with purple butterfly wings and hair that matched the hue of her wings. The fairy’s bored face lit up with gladness when she noticed Medarozi approaching her.

“Medarozi!” the fairy said. “Do you have a delivery for the beauty house? I can take it.”

“I figured you would,” Medarozi said, and she passed one of her big sacks of goods to Rototinen. “I also have something to ask you, Roto.”

“What?” Rototinen inquired.

“It is a personal matter. Do you have time for that?”

“Yes,” Rototinen answered with giddiness. “It’s been a while since I got to talk about myself! The other day, a dejin came in here, and she was a fussy and especially windy dejin. Her words were all about herself. I haven’t had much experience with dejin hair, and she told me what to do, but she did not grant me much time to do it right. The gusts of her irritation kept interfering. If only she was more patient, I would have finished her styling in half the time I ended up taking.” The fairy’s smile dropped. “Ah. What do you have to ask me?”

“How often do you think about… Zakayia?” Medarozi said with a gentle voice.

Yet the fairy kept her blank expression. “Barely ever since he departed,” she said. “Why would you ask?”

Medarozi noticed the way Rototinen worded her question, and the gnome answered, “Because… I have been longing for the company of my husband in recent times. My sarazem has not returned, but I spoke with Yundegun about this, and he thinks the weather might be helping us adjust to the Curse. I was wondering if you would have anything to say about that.”

“The time of our husbands has passed,” Rototinen said with a hint of sadness. “We should not mind it.”

“Do you feel anything about Zack?” Medarozi said. “Let yourself think about him.”

Then Rototinen put on a distant expression that Medarozi knew was the face the fairy made when she pondered something. After a moment, Rototinen said, “Zakayia. Good party guy. Carried the traits of fire and diamonds. Noble for a zakao feri… It’s funny that I forgot what makes a husband a good one when I forgot how sarazem feels.” She smiled. “I think of our dates, and they come with this feeling like a blanket on my head. What I felt back then- the joy, the devotion, and the feeling the Curse blocked- I cannot relive now.”

“Is that so?” Medarozi said suddenly. “When I remember how happy I was with Luapitsipa, the happiness comes back to me in the now.”

Rototinen’s eyes widened. “So that’s why you asked,” she commented.

Medarozi nodded. “I think I know that ‘blanket feeling’ you mentioned, but it is a feeling I only barely get with my memories,” she said. “The blanket gets heavier when I try to dream of him in my sleep, though. The memories that come to us when we sleep are supposed to be more vivid than the ones we have when we are awake, but somehow, my bed memories are more dull than my conscious ones.”

“I don’t sleep,” Rototinen said. “The beauty house doesn’t sleep.”

“You should try taking a nap in your spare time. See if that does anything for you,” Medarozi suggested.

Rototinen chuckled. “If sleep does something in place of the feelings we have lost, that would bring a huge change to our biologies,” Rototinen said. “And that would bring a huge change to how we live, Medarozi. Next thing we know, we might have to eat, like the Prism Folk do!”

Now Medarozi chuckled. “That would be interesting!” she said. “I should get going. Would you meet me at Yundegun’s house at the seventeenth hour? We can talk more there.”

“Sure!” Rototinen said. The fairy and the gnome exchanged farewells, and then Medarozi left.

Ferina Toridor had four forest clearings designated for events: market gatherings on some days, and “jarademx,” parties, on other days. There was also a big meadow in the heart of the grand forest where the queen hosted her meetings and other royal occasions. Today, Medarozi was going to set up shop in the south-western clearing, which was less than half an hour of walking away from the beauty parlor. Medarozi arrived here and got her goods ready for trading shortly after the turn of the tenth hour, and she would sit here for the next six hours as she made even more clothes and accessories while waiting for business.

The sound of a wind’s hum reached Medarozi’s ears. She looked upwards to her left and saw that a flock of Chatty Birds was coming. Chatty Birds are Dustities who have appointed themselves for bearing news to different provinces across the world, and some of them also delivered mail. The puffball-shaped birds landed in a big empty spot in the clearing, among the market booths and tents. “Ideheya, ideheya!” they called out to everyone. That was their special greeting, beckoning the merchants and shoppers to listen. “Did you know…” And they went on to list what they had observed was going on with the lords and ladies of different provinces of the Dust Realm, starting with the ones that would matter to the people of Ferina Toridor. Nothing special nor concerning was happening to Queen Titania of the grand forest, though, so she was not mentioned. The power levels of Lord Roberis of Sotuzigui were continuing to deplete, though. That mattered. It meant that the weather patterns in the lands north from Ferina Toridor were going to become more rough, limiting how often they could receive goods from traveling merchants. Mederozi noted this piece of news and let the rest of the Chatty Birds’ words pass through her ears. The Birds left after about twenty minutes.

In the twelfth hour, someone Medarozi recognized came to her spot. “Deisiki!” Medarozi said. “Hi!” Deisiki was a bush dryad who was a bit larger than Medarozi. Her leaf-hair tumbled from the top of her head to the backs of her root-like feet.

“Medarozi!” Deisiki said. Her voice was youthful, yet raspy. Most dryads had dry-sounding voices. “Have you received a bunch of customers?”

“Only three so far today,” Medarozi said. Three was lower than average for the start of Medarozi’s market hours.

“Ah,” Deisiki said as she nodded, showing sympathy for Medarozi. “How has the rest of your day been?”

“Interesting,” Medarozi said, and she told Deisiki about the conversations the gnome had with her other friends.

Deisiki looked intrigued. “So something might be waking up in us Dustities,” she commented, “something new and Human-like. But what about people born after the Curse came?”

Medarozi had not considered that until now. Deisiki was a Dustity who came into being after the Curse came along. “...I wouldn’t know,” said the gnome.

Deisiki placed her left hand on her hip. “Eating? I wouldn’t mind doing that. I like eating berries every now and then. Sleeping? That would be a bother. It’d cut into my travel time. I hope I wouldn’t have to sleep as often as a Human does.”

“Have you heard that Sira Roberis’s power has still been depleting?” Medarozi said.

Deisiki’s little eyes widened slightly. “Thanks for passing on those words,” she said. Then she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t travel to the northern Soturavamx often, anyway. Cold climates and I don’t get along.”

“I might keep going north in some months,” Medarozi said. “I would only stay away from Sotuzigui if it starts receiving extreme weather.”

“That’s because you’re a Carbuncle,” Deisiki said. “And a Water Carbuncle, at that.”

It was said that Carbuncle-affinite Dustities were very adaptable and resilient. Medarozi smiled and guffawed, liking Deisiki’s reference to the Great Joke of Dust culture. She thought of a great reference of her own. “And I wish that you would keep your vigor and restlessness if the time of needing sleep ever comes, for you are an Air Emerald.”

A big smile stretched across Deisiki’s face, and she started to clap, making a sound like two sticks striking each other. “What a good wish!” Deisiki said. “Thank you, Medarozi. The air is calling me, and I don’t want to block your customers, so I’ll ‘hak-kaf’ now.”

“Dont, please,” Medarozi said. “Come to Yundegun’s house at the seventeenth hour. I’d like to speak with you more there. Roto will be there, too.”

“Yes!” Deisiki exclaimed. “I shall. So I will see you then, later.” Medarozi and Deisiki waved to each other, then the dryad left.

The rest of the market hours for Medarozi were slow and lacking in activity. When the sun reached its position for the sixteenth hour, Medarozi packed her things and headed to Yundegun’s house, where she reunited with her three friends and conversed with them over cups of fruit punch with cream that Rototinen had brought. Deisiki remarked that the worse weather in the northern lands might mean less cream and cheese for the fairies, but she added that perhaps she could peddle these treats to Medarozi’s neighborhood. The friends laughed about that.

As for the topic of the feelings that came with Medarozi’s memories, not much more was actually said. Rototinen said she decided she would try a nap when she could- she did not see why not- and Deisiki repeated her remarks about what a bother it would be to have to sleep, but what not much of a bother it would be to have to eat.

Medarozi spent three hours with her friends, and then she went outside. She spotted the orange moon in the sky of marbled bright blue and yellow, and she looked at it for a moment, wondering what it would have to do with her future. The moon and its magic was very influential on the course of nature in the Dust Realm. Could it also evolve? the gnome wondered. After admiring the beauty of the moon for a while, she went home, and at home, she tucked herself in bed to have a short nap because she wanted one.

As she hoped she would, Medarozi dreamed about Luapitsipa. He was a birdwing fairy with dark blue feathers and hair. Medarozi’s sleeping mind brought up one evening and the following night she had spent with Luapitsipa in the early days of their marriage. Once again, she heard his melodic voice and smelled his scent, which was like vanilla and sea salt. He had gone to his homeland, Grika, which was east of Ferina Toridor, and had come back with flowers and seashells and other gifts for Medarozi. She had always loved it when Luapitsipa brought back gifts; she relived this love. Yet the love she felt for him when they cuddled, that didn’t come back. This part of her memory became fuzzy to her. She felt her dream-self stroke his hair and cheeks, but this did not provoke any emotional reaction from her. This is what Roto thinks about Zack these days, Medarozi thought, and slowly, the memory-dream faded away.

Then Medarozi woke up. She looked out of her skylights and saw that the moon was still there. She also felt like she got some closure. Her curiosity about her awakening feelings had been satisfied. She sat down and thought about her friends as she started to craft some hairpins. The gnome had decided that she would not let herself think about Luapitsipa until next time that yearning feeling for him came back. Now she knew what she missed, and this lack wasn’t awful to her. She could look back on her time with her husband with gratitude and keep her mind focused on current matters, though she also resolved to keep in mind that Luapitsipa would stay as relevant to her as her friends and her job did, though she had no idea if she would ever see him again. Perhaps, on another day in Ferina Toridor, he would come, but in the light of the world’s energy and the moon overhead, once again, Medarozi was content to be on her own.