Riyoon's Rebirth, Chapter IV - A Jeli's Fate

                After we had had breakfast, I decided I would see out the Jeli children I had met the previous evening; Renkou declined to join, saying that they needed to discuss the ramifications of my arrival. This concerned me, but They declined to comment further, and insisted I go make friends.
                I traveled through the village to where the Istmemwa lodged; it turned out to be near the river, separated from the main road circling the village by an alley or two. All of the huts had been decorated with dyes of black, blue, and deep brown, colors that in part reminded me of the Chaj-Dlo. Had I not known where precisely to look, the music guided me; I could hear the strumming of stringed instruments not unlike the sounds I had heard the previous evening, along with another sound reminiscent of raindrops, though distorted. I was not quite sure what to make of it.
                I circled around the huts to find a gathering of people of all ages, from elders to little children, most of whom wore trappings of blue and violet; among them, I found the two I was looking for. They hadn't noticed me quite yet; Toujou stared almost absently off into space as her fingers danced with a practiced grace over the surface of the strings, and Lapli poured low over a strange barred and gourded instrument, his face a mask of concentration, his effort the source of that indescribable sound.
                "Newcomer," one of the women greeted me. She carried a ringed rod in one hand, and with the opposite arm, she supported a child on the corresponding hip. The former she shook back and forth, the jangling of which held the attention of the latter, who made clumsy grasps for it.
                I smiled and dipped my head. "I am Riyoon," I told her. "I came seeking my friends."
                By now, the others had taken notice; many continued to play with only glances of acknowledgement in my direction. The boy however threw down his sticks and rushed to greet me.

                "You came!"
                "Of course I did."
                "We aren't finished, Lapli," Toujou chided him. “The patient will eat ripe fruit.”
                Lapli rolled his eyes. “Work is good, so long as one does not forget to live.”
                “The wise create proverbs for fools to learn, not to repeat.”
                “Children,” the woman said. “When two elephants fight, it is the grass that is trampled.”
                They fell to silence.
                "I did not mean to interrupt," I apologized.
                She shook her head. "You did not know. Lapli on the other hand…"
                The boy, defeated, returned to his instrument.
                "I'd be happy to listen to you play," I told him with a smile.
                He beamed, but it didn’t last; he looked to the woman, and she to the elders.

                The Istmemwa watched me for a moment, conferred among themselves. Silence took the place of their music as they did so. Then, the elder spoke. "We shall play for you, Newcomer."
                "It would be my honor to listen."

                A single drumbeat. Silence. Again. Again. The man let each note resonate on its own for a second or so before sounding another, his eyes intent on me.
                Then, the sound of jangled steel joined him. The woman, with her babe, twitching her rattle in time with the drum, so close behind as to be a high pitched shadowy brass.

                And then Lapli played. The rods thundered up and down his instrument, throwing off a cascade of wonderful sounds that washed over the drums and uplifted the brass. The previous instruments fell in line with his increased pace, and two women began to sing. Then, Toujou began plucking at her instrument, and the words took to life in a way they never would have otherwise. I could see it unfolding before me…
                They told me the tale of the girl and the spider; the girl, who, with her keen senses and kind heart, found all of the most delicious and nourishing food to bring to her village and share with her people. The spider with its cunning and greed, who sought to steal from her the secrets of all the best things.
                After much pleading on the spider’s part, the girl brought along the spider, and she showed it her secrets. With each revealed, the spider, overcome with greed, would gobble up all of the food and  leave nothing to be shared. Then, overcome with remorse, the spider would beg her forgiveness and ask to be shown her next treasure. Three times the spider did this.

                As it happened, the third and final time, the girl revealed to the spider the place where the very best honey was kept- tucked deep in a hole high in a tree. Finding this, the spider clambered inside, barely able to fit from all of the food it had eaten.

                Once the spider had eaten all of the honey, it had grown too large to escape the tree. It begged and begged, but the girl would not help it; instead she set off to collect her true harvest to deliver to the needy.
              

                "Do you know why we play these songs and tell these stories, Lapli?" Toujou asked.
                "Of course I do!" the boy yelled, his cheeks flushed. He was looking at the ground.
                "Lapli is.…quite excitable," the woman explained.
                I nodded.
                "We're jelis. It is our honor and our responsibility to keep tradition alive and remind our people of who they are and where they come from." Lapli stated flatly.
                Toujou was unimpressed. "That's what father tells you."
                "And he's not wrong!"
                "No, he isn't," Toujou agreed. "But do you know what he means by that?"
                "Of course I do!"
                "You lack the resolve and reverence of a griot," Toujou said.
                "You lack the spirit and the energy! You're the one who's doing it wrong!"
                "Do they always argue?" I asked.
                "Often," the woman told me.

                "Who is correct?"
                The siblings stopped and looked to the woman. She ignored them and stared at me with a small smile.