“You know, skekMal, it’s unusual for Skeksis and urRu toget along.”
urVa sat beside the dwindling fire, watching sparks rise—high, higher—before vanishing into the night. A soothing sight. A safe one. He always added a touch of danger, letting the flames burn through the night. It was risky, of course; dry branches could easily catch fire… but urVa preferred sleeping without the threat of animals creeping close and disturbing his rest.
skekMal, lying next to him now with his tail dangerously near the kindling, didn’t care about night beasts. He slept with one eye open, and if anything was foolish—or suicidal—enough to test its strength against him, its life would end brutally and fast.
And its bones would decorate skekMal’s furs or belt.
The Hunter seemed deeply asleep, but urVa knew he heard him. He simply chose not to react. That was fine. urVa was used to silence. As long as skekMal listened, he was content.
“But I…” he continued. “I don’t find it unusual when it comes to us. The urRu fear the Skeksis. They fear being forced to act. And one thing the urRu dislike is actively seeking solutions. I, on the other hand… I am different. If I see something that must change, I do what I can to help it change. Change is good. What would Thra be if nothing ever shifted?”
“We’ve gained much from understanding each other. I began eating meat, even though at first I saw it as a violation of Thra’s heart. But you showed me that if I didn’t nourish myself properly, I would be unable—yes—to act when needed. And you, on the other hand… you like my tea. And that is more than enough for me.”
Still no reply. His thoughts were too important to leave unspoken, so he continued.
“I promised not to try stopping your hunts. That was a lesson for me. At first, it felt like a wound. Then only a laceration. Until I understood that you are a force of nature itself, and you keep balance. Just as I keep balance by helping those who need it. Not all Gelfling must die. Not all beasts should live. Thra needs a hunter. And Thra needs a… lacking a better word, I’ll say a savior. ‘Hero’ would be too pompous, and I am no hero. I save lives. Sometimes. It’s a good word, though other Skeksis would disagree.”
“I searched for kindred spirits among the urRu, but I found you instead. And then everything changed. I changed. And you changed me. But as I said before, change is good. You shaped me into who I am today, and I helped you become more. Yes, other Skeksis might fear you. But you are better than they are. You took Thra only because it offered itself to you willingly. The planet appreciates this gift and allows you to claim it. How bitter the Skeksis would be, knowing you achieved what they have tried to grasp for so many trines. Perhaps they already are.”
“You are wondrous, skekMal. I would have expected such understanding from other urRu, but they disappointed me in many ways. You are honest, and I always know what to expect from you. You have never lied to me. I know you are not kind—you are not like me. Your violent side is something I accept, as long as you remain… yourself.” He smiled softly. “You are exceptional. And you are part of my soul.”
A shift in the bedding beside him, a flick of a spiked tail into the fading warmth of the fire.
“I think that might be painful.”
The Hunter chuckled. UrVa didn’t need to guess - he felt all skekMal felt.
“Show me your wounds, Archer.”
“Perhaps you are not afraid of pain and I admire that. But I still find it… uncomfortable.”
“Discomfort… your golden tongue is glistening so much tonight.”
“My praise for you does not include putting your tail into flames.”
An eye blinked in the darkness. urVa’s maw curved into a gentle smile.
“Thoughts sometimes need to leave the head.”
“When I’m trying to sleep,” skekMal growled, “this is a severe kind of torture.”
“Only then am I sure you’ll listen.”
“Wise.”
“I appreciate your praise, skekMal.”
There was no answer, but as always, urVa could feel the Hunter’s amusement. skekMal never fished for compliments and pretended he disliked them.
But like every Skeksis—more so, as urVa’s second soul—he basked in them like in a cold stream.
urVa rested his head near skekMal’s, pressing his chest against the furs on the Hunter’s back. Warm. Safe. Soothing, though skekMal would not appreciate the comparison.
Who needs fire, anyway?