Notes

The stranger came at night, asking for food and shelter. He had blistering feet and eyes so haggard, it was as if he hadn't slept in days. His outfit was odd: a dark cloak, with not a single pattern or prayers to the sun. His manner of speaking was strange: it was quiet, slow, and simple, as if he wasn't used to the words even though he clearly knew them. He carried nothing with him but the ragged clothes on his back and a spear with an ornate black tip. There was more than just his look or his mannerism that marked him as foreign. He came alone.

The women gave him food and a bed and he fell asleep quicker than anyone could expect. In the next few days he barely had the strength to walk, so he stayed in and around the hut we've given him, a single stranger, his dark outfits marking him out like a stain in a weaving that was left behind

The people left him alone, but I was ten year old then, and I was curious. I went and asked him or who he was, where he came from, and why he was alone. He told me he was a hunter, which I thought at the time didn't make sense, because he was by himself. He came from a land far away, where, in his words, the buildings were beautiful white marbles (he found no beauty in our painted stone temples), and the people wore long lavish dresses (of only one colour). I asked him where he keep his prayers, why there was no sun on his clothes, and it took him a long time to think it through.

"Ah. You worship the sun?"

There were many things wrong with his question, but I was too young to explain ourselves to him, so I let him think what he liked.

Next I asked him why he had journeyed so far, and he smiled as if he had been waiting to answer that question.

"I am looking for the Hippogriff. Have you seen it?"

I had no idea what creature he was speaking of, and I told him that. His explanation confused me even more.

"The Hippogriff has the back of a horse, and the front of an eagle. Have you seen it?"

Later in the day, as we were having supper, I asked my mother what a horse was, and she didn't know. But the men were home for the night, and between the noise of the clan, Father overheard our conversation. He told me that the horse is an animal that was like deer without antlers, but with strong legs that could make them run fast as a falcon could fly. He'd seen one when the men had gone far away in their war.

There had never been a horse anywhere around our village; what were the chance of one with the front of an eagle?

---

The next day was the Day of the Hungry Earth. It was another thing that the foreigner couldn't fathom.

"You what!?" he demanded, when I told him of what we do on the day. His legs was still weak, but he dashed out of the hut anyway, in time to see the blood flowing down the stone pyramid. When he was back inside, looking very ill. For the rest of the day he hid himself under the blanket, and he wouldn't look up when I asked him what's wrong.

I decided to leave him be.

---

A day passed, and he seemed a bit better, though he wouldn't look any of us in the eye. The women told me he wouldn't speak to them anymore, but when I came, he started shooting me questions after questions.

"Where are the men?"

Fighting, of course. We're always at war with one thing or another. They come home every couple of days, or even every couple of weeks. When they're off, there are usually only women and kids in the village.

"Why are they fighting?"

I almost laughed at his question. Even a child younger than I could answer that. They war to protect us. Otherwise the enemies would get closer to our village and attack.

He seemed to find my answer horrifying. His next question surprised me.

"Has anyone died from this war?"

It was an effort to keep myself from grinning. Of course not. We have the earth on our side. Our men have the power of our women's blood. Nothing, in fact, could defeat us.

He shook his head. From his face it was obvious he thought us mad. It was fine, because I thought him mad too. I decided to let him think what he liked.

---

The next day I found him sitting in front of his hut, sharpening the black tip of his spear. His eyes weren't focused on it, however. They were staring at the pyramid, the blood still drying at its side.

I said hello, and he nodded without saying anything. I sat next to him and watched, waited. He opened his mouth, then closed them again. He realised he'd been staring ahead, then lowered his eyes and focused on his spear.

"I should be able to go soon."

I nodded.

"Please tell the others I appreciate your village's hospitality."

To this I nodded as well. There was a long moment of silence, before I decided to break it.

"Areyougoingtolookforyour Hippogriff?"

The question took him by surprise, and he made me repeat the question before answering:

"Of course!"

His answer, with all its enthusiasm for an animal that probably doesn't exist, filled me with an odd taste of warmth.

---

I was at home weaving our prayers with my mother when we heard the commotion. There were screams: it was the first thing I heard between all the noise. We ran outside and were surprised to see men, our men, running back to our village with fear in their eyes. They were wounded, the first I'd seen, and there were blood on the ground. We couldn't see what they were running from; what we knew we only heard as scraps and pieces as men shouted it around us.

This creature that they could not war with, they said it had beaks as sharp as swords and claws that tore people apart as easily as sand. Its voice broke minds. But that was nothing that we hadn't been able to handle before.

And then there was a great shriek, and from a distance I could see the shape of the monster. It rose above the running crowd of men, wings stretched around it like and eagle. But it was too big for an eagle and it has four legs. I understood then what sets it differently from all the other monsters: it was not touching the earth. It was immune to our blood.

Immediately afterwards, the foreigner ran out of his hut with his spear in his hand. He was dressed as he came, with his dark patternless cloak. As our people fled around him, he grinned.

"Finally!"

He charged against the flow, and as he did so, I saw the clouds above darkening. There was the rumble of thunder over the shriek of the creature. And

And I would have seen the fight, but then my mother took hold of my arm and pulled me away. The last thing I saw before the crowd overcame me was the stranger raising his spear and shouting to the sky.

---

There were our blood on the ground, and the earth, so nourished, fed back. We rebuilt our village quickly, our plants regrew, the stone for our houses and temples reemerged, and soon it was as if nothing ever happened. The stranger, the one who wielded the spear and was blessed by the sky, was nowhere to be found. Few had seen him as I had, as the one who called for rain and thunder.

I had thought him mad, with his lack of colours, with his slow speech, with his aversion to blood, and his enthusiasm for an impossible creature, but now I thought of him more and more. We had the blessing of the earth, but the moment a creature of the sky made its entrance, we fell. I asked my father where the Hippogriff had came from, and he said, to the east, over the great river. I vowed then that I'd find the foreigner's land, and learn it secrets. I weaved a prayer into my robe, that the earth and the sky might one day become one.

But first I shall find a portion of our people to take with me, for we will never forget our custom, we will never walk alone.