When the tribe realized what had actually happened, terror turned to joy. They brought benches, tables, they carried wood and coal on the highest plateau for a feast that was to last all day. They killed boars and bears right there to cook them on the spot.
Tuorka had never seen so much debauchery.
He had first asked for the chief and when the chief had hugged him he had asked for the shaman. "Busy." With that it seemed the old kobel had understood everything.
Even more than him, the tribe marveled at his companion.
Most were intimidated, but quite a few kids wanted to approach and touch it, and when it let them they wanted to get on its back. Soon the mighty beast was nothing but a ride for the kobel youth, to the parents' dismay.
They had brought every spice, every wine, every delicacy in their stores. The kobels were throwing it all at their guests while pleading for stories.
Sadly, this was Tuorka.
The warrior would only talk briefly. His companion, Uokror, would have talked more but struggled with words. He was from too far away to be able to speak with ease.
"Uokror." The chief pondered. "That's an usual name."
"Where is your tribe? What does the land look like?"
"Cold." Tuorka answered for him.
And the winged, massive kobel tried to follow up as best he could:
"We have mountains, mountains of snow, everywhere. When sun come, it turn of ice."
"Are there others like you?!" A child enthusiastically asked.
The beast looked at her confusedly, then turned to look at Tunu.
The scaled kobel was watching at a distance, a few meters away. He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. He could feel his heart aching for a fight. But at the same time, he too had so many questions.
Uokror pointed at him with his tail.
"He. He is like you. Me."
Near them Etelet was still observing the strange artifact the pair had brought.
It was, if not for its spherical nature, nothing but a lump of charcoal. Yet the apprentice had kept weighing it the whole time, so absorbed that none wanted to meddle with his work.
He finally decided, cut in his arm to feed that piece some of his blood.
The moment a drop touched it, it pulsed.
Another drop, another pulse. Even the young kobel shuddered at this sight.
"It's true. This... miracle can be a heart. Unbelievable."
At those words Tunu approached.
"And this one is not evil?"
"How would I know?!" The young kobel nearly shouted. "I haven't looked at the stars in forever! What do you care anyway, it's not going to give you wings!"
"Etelet..."
"Here! Do with it what you want! I have... better things to do."
He watched his friends leave, followed dutifully by those two black fawns. The rumors still circulated but by now few gave it any attention.
So the scaled lizard turned back to Uokror.
And Uokror had already been looking at him. Their eyes met, his weak kobel ones and those powerful pupils that seemed to pierce to his very core. It felt like that beast was telling him something just with a gaze.
The wyvern approached.
Everyone around noticed, the two legends about to talk. But in the festivities it was hard to hear and even harder not to get distracted. Even the chief had to calm those around.
"You want of kill me."
"Are you really a kobel?" Tunu repeated. "Are you really like me?"
Again, that beast took a second or two during which he felt just dwarved in its presence.
"It is normal of want, to want to kill. It is territory."
"Territory... You mean wyverns are territorial."
"Yes."
Two males in the same area, for beasts so proud, could only lead to a fight. What was so foreign to kobels went without saying for beings like wyverns. And to them a territory stretched far and wide, possibly beyond the horizon.
So it suddenly made sense, Tunu thought. That anger he felt, it was just his blood.
"You feel the same?" He asked.
"No. I have alone. I not want alone anymore. You still have tribe."
His heart would not open to those words, but his mind did. Tunu suddenly felt close to that winged kobel. Just as he had with Savae, just as he had with Elua, he felt understood. More than them even, for the first time he felt like he could talk freely.
So he did.
They talked about everything. As much as Uokror's language allowed, everything.
Meanwhile, Tuorka was still discussing with the chief. Catching up with everything that had been happening since his departure.
He could read between the lines, the many things that made him frown, the many triumphs that had him pleased. But when all was said and gone the old chief asked him in turn, for details on his trip, how he had met Uokror or found that heart.
"Kreil." Tuorka cut him. "Take Uokror."
"In the tribe?"
"As one of us."
"Hard to say no to that. But I still got to ask." And he closed in with a low voice: "It's not really a kobel, is it?"
"He is. He follows Tusali."
"Tusali."
"Yes. Since his birth."
That left the chief speechless. So much so that the old champion started to worry.
"Come on, Kreil."
"Yes! Yes, yes, sorry. Yes well, I can't turn down a believer of Tusali. Of course he can join us. And you? Are you going to stay, this time?"
"Where he goes, I go."
With this Tuorka got up. He was already done with the festivities, at least for now. They had barely started but he crossed the crowd and when Uokror moved to follow him he gestured so that the winged kobel would stay put.
He cared for nothing but to reach that isolated hut at the end of the plateau.
Behind him the massive, winged kobel struggled against a new wave of children wanting to climb on his wings, even on his head.
It was making the beast laugh.
Tunu was smiling now, scolding the kids but gently enough as to not disturb their games. He could see his new friend loved the nuisance.
"Everyone!"
The chief had risen a cup full of wine. It spilled on his arm, so he emptied it in one gulp, then continued.
"Welcome our new brother, Uokror! He too has followed the path of the wyvern, he has reached beyond our wildest dreams! Let's walk that path together!"
And the crowd chanted.
The crowd chanted Tunu's name.
Partly out of habit. Partly because for the youngest, Tunu was the one legend they knew. Partly also because Uokror was a bit hard for them to say.
But above all they chanted the name that best incarnated the kobel's ideal. It didn't matter if that newcomer seemed farther on that path. Tunu was the one holding all of their dreams, all of their hopes. The tribe's heart.
Now even the winged kobel was chanting it.
All day long the kobels feasted, for hours until the fatigue forced them, even before the evening approached, to head back to their homes. It had been nothing but games and drinks inbetween the bouts of meat. An absolute bliss.
Everyone agreed, the only place for Uokror to sleep at would be the tower.
Tunu had insisted that he rests there. If anything he was ready to move out to honor his new friend. There was a true happiness in his eyes, at this new company.
And a lingering anger in his heart.