'That tree which seems to obstruct the entire road is a glamour, man-boned, you may walk straight through it.'
Pavlo did as the trovlin said, feeling a tingling sensation through his entire body as he stepped through the gigantic rowan.
"How is it that you can pick out all the road's disguises, Seppesso?"
'The trovlins are amongst the oldest of Dendaland's host, and our eyes the same. To us all but the very first enchantments are made plain.'
They walked on. Pavlo's eyes had grown used to seeing Seppesso's feet at the edges of his vision, but his eyes were heavy from the lack of sleep; it had reached the point where each step felt like it was a stomp, and a dull throb in Pavlo's head would accompany each one. He decided that the first thing they would do when they'd traversed this blasted road was get at least a day's worth of sleep. Talking to his new friend did seem to make the journey easier though.
"Okay, what about the funny way that you speak to me?"
'Is my speech too extravagant for you, young man-boned?'
"No not that, the way your voice bounces around inside my head, how is it you can do that?"
'Of a truth man-boned, I do not know exactly how. But it is not an uncommon ability amongst the trovlins. Some say the great hearth-fire did not just enliven our bodies, but our minds as well, that we may better communicate with the Dendaland host. When I speak to thee, I envision your mind and wish that you would hear me in your tongue. Does that answer satisfy the young man-boned?'
Pavlo nodded his head in affirmative, though truthfully he had missed a quarter of Seppesso's explanation. The Yellow Road was causing the fields beside it to bob and sway like ocean waves, even somehow reflecting the orange sunlight on the short grass. They mesmerized Pavlo, and he found himself blinking heavier blinks before he felt a sharp pain on his scalp. Seppesso had pulled on one of his wavy locks.
"Ow!"
'Whilst it is unfortunate that you have to carriage us both on little sleep, I still cannot let you faint on these evil bricks. Perhaps the man-boned would like to stop for a sit?'
The trovlin's words were music to Pavlo's ears. "Y-yeah, a little sit-down would be good for me."
And Pavlo plopped his behind squat on the Yellow Road, allowing Seppesso to flip off his shoulders and keep watch. Pavlo knew Seppesso wouldn't let him doze off whilst he rested, so he asked the trovlin another question.
"You mentioned before wanting to go where no other trovlin has gone. Where exactly were you trying to go?"
'Ah, the man-boned wants to hear of my travels. The ill-advised wanderings of a lonely and foolish trovlin. It was my goal to span the whole of Dendaland — an impossible feat, but I had thought that amongst the trovlin, at least I would have wandered the farthest. First I dragged these little clay legs into what we trovlins call the Bladed Forest, west of the wispy woods where my people reside, a land of grass trees, though to one of your size they would just be tall blades of grass. It was here I encountered for the first time, the skissawisp.'
"What in Dendaland is a skissawisp?" asked an intrigued Pavlo.
'They were the pollinators of that land, man-boned, and are fat, fuzzy and blue. I remember running through the high-grass with my arms spread out, laughing as they poured out from within in their zillions. They formed a covering around me, and lifted this little trovlin a ways into the air before dropping me again, and I rolled on that grassy soil, thinking my travels would have no hindrance.'
"Didn't you say you had to turn back?"
'I did man-boned. After the Bladed Forest it was to the Brook of the Onyx Banks, those waters which flow grey yet clear. It was a well known rumour in my hearth that a drink from the brook would give a trovlin eyes sharper than that of even the canary-hawk*, but upon lifting the water to my lips I found that it tasted of bitterness and ash. I spit my mouthful back into the brook, emptying as well my hands, and can report no great change to this trovlin's eyes. It was on my tread into the Whirling Tundra that the spark of my hearth began to call for my return, for I was companionless, a 'wandering without real purpose. Had I persisted in my quest, I sense that perhaps I would have fallen apart, one limb at a time, till a barren husk would have folded over in that biting cold to freeze. I sense also that I may have become something no longer trovlin, but whether this change would have been what was fated fair for this one, I know not, nor was it my desire to. I turned back in shame of my folly. I think it is time for the young man-boned to get up.'
"Ughhh," groaned Pavlo as he pushed himself to his feet, dusting the off the bits of Yellow Road that had clung to his backside. Seppesso had caught him dozing again, and had scrambled back up his shoulders as he stood. 'I do not envy the man-bone's difficult task, traversing this road in the throes of slumber — but faint not, should we persist we shall prevail before day's end. Step not in that gleaming puddle to thy right, for it is rotten bee's wax glamoured.'
Pavlo side-stepped the silver puddle, rubbing once more at his eyes. "You know Seppesso," he said, "I don't think your wanderings were as much of a failure as you make them sound. You still have a few stories to tell your hearth, and I wouldn't have met you if you didn't turn back."
'I suppose the man-boned would have given to the scourge of sleep that these Yellow Bricks conceal if not for my misfortunes..,' mused Seppesso.
"Exactly," Pavlo encouraged, "And besides, your journey would have taken a long time to complete. I'm sure there are other trovlins in your hearth that would have missed you."
'The man-bone's words cut true. There are many in the wispy hearth, but of my bosom-trovlin, five. My father Livvindi, my mother Fovilta, my brother Gerbaskias, my sister Jusette, and my oldest friend Durv, whom I was wrestling with not ten days after I emerged from the hearth-flame. Upon my return I shall give them each three kisses, and to my brother the same pinches on the arm, and to ruddy Durv a firm headlock.'
Pavlo let loose a chuckle at the trovlin's words, then quickly balanced himself with a stiff wobble. He had almost just tripped over his own feet.
'Tell me, man-boned, of your fleshy-limbed kin. Methinks the talk would distract you from your wears.'
"Mm," Pavlo hummed in agreement, "Well my home isn't under the ground like you say yours is. On earth people get together and build lots of things like houses to live in and monuments to look at, we call these villages. My village is called Hapton, and it was in the country of Gratalia, which I suppose I could compare to Dendaland, but it's a lot more ordinary."
'What in bountiful Dendaland does the man-boned find un-ordinary?' asked the trovlin.
"Just about everything Seppesso," Pavlo said with a laugh, "Our sun doesn't turn purple when it's going down, we don't have any huffaloots or toadstools taller than the trees. But most ordinary of all, we don't have any magic."
'There is no magic on your world? A strange place indeed this 'earth' must be,' wondered the trovlin, 'I am sure Dendaland was quite the change of pace for you.'
"To say yes would be an understatement. Anyways, I don't think my family's too different from yours. There's my Ma Syville, but everyone calls her Syv, she works in our village's only record store — on earth there are places you can go to buy music other humans made. Then there's my Pa Carcio, he's a navy Captain so he isn't around much."
'What is this 'navy' the man-boned speaks of?' interrupted Seppesso curiously.
"On earth countries have things called armies that they use for their protection. The navy protects Gratalia from anything that may come to use from the sea."
'Then you humans have a guard, in which your father is of rank. You share in this trait with us trovlins, perhaps your father may shake hands with Captain Jevvekkin one day.'
"Perhaps, Seppesso, perhaps," Pavlo noddingly assented, "There's also my sister Desaria, I miss her but she's annoying, and is probably breaking my things as I speak. And then there's my Peepop Gato, I bet he could tell better stories than everyone in your hearth, Seppesso."
'If the man-boned insists. But we trovlin are an ancient folk, there are gold-threaded words that the elders of our hearth have left unspoken from even Dendaland's first century.'
"Pshh, us man-boned are pretty old too. When I get back to Hapton, I'll give everyone in my family a hug, then hide my sister's favorite book. Then I'm going to gather everyone I can to the wishing well in our village square and tell them all about this crazy place."
'Aeli's charm to us both,' said Seppesso, ruffling Pavlo's hair with an impish wit.
"Ye- hey! Quit that," Pavlo scolded playfully before saying, "We've been walking for a while Seppesso, let's have us a lunch-break. I'd sooner toss you off my shoulders than have you keep jolting me awake on an empty stomach."
'The man-boned makes a good case, this trovlin's belly has rumbled enough.'
Seppesso flipped off Pavlo's shoulders once again and Pavlo unstrapped the Sharper-Stick from his waist. After untying the wrapped-up picnic blanket from it's simple hiltless pommel, he took two rueberries pies from the remaining food Miss Jericho had packed for him and handed one to the trovlin. They ate the pies in silence, but for the swaying of the magic mist and the terrible rueberry screams — both occasionally picking off the yellow stones creeping on their rested legs before they could bind them. It wasn't long before the pies were finished and, both traveler's strength replenished, began their final stretch down the whimsical, winding Yellow Road.
This story is a breadcrumb…