Karana Wonapalei's page

Karana watches the wilderness pass to the steady rhythm of hoofbeats before drawing the curtain and continuing her conversation with the kind Iomedaen priest accompanying her on the long coach ride.

“I am glad you find my circumstances so fascinating, Father Padilla.”

The cleric smiles as the girl. Woman, technically. She is an adult elf, but no more an adult than a human in her late teens. “What I find fascinating, Miss Wonapalei, is that you are able to tell it in the… Common Tongue, as you put it. Seven weeks ago, you did not understand a word.”

“Perhaps my mind was merely reclaiming what was once lost.”

Language, she means. Karana Wonapalei lost much more than human words. It all started with the loss of her druidic tribe. Her father, Chief Chowig, could not protect his people from the Goblinblood War. But he could certainly protect his heir—his son, Ramo—and of course his darling daughter.

Ramo was an elven boy of sixteen summers and winters when he and Karana were sent through the secret gate to the First World. Karana was twelve at this time. She spent eighteen summers and winters on this island of blue dolphins, sea elephants, otters, cormorants and other animals… but what it lacked was people.

Her brother did not survive the first week in isolation. A pack of wild dogs ripped his throat out as he went exploring.

Karana vowed revenge, and as her teenage muscles developed into those of a small killing machine, she finally ventured to the far side of the island. In one hand, she held a javelin. In the other, a roaring flame the size of her vengeful little fist.

The blood, the yelping, the smell of burning flesh and fur… these only fueled her rage. It was not until Karana made her way inside the cave that she held back. She saw a mother nursing her pups, and decided she would only kill one more: the yellow-eyed alpha.

He did not fall easy, but when he did, she found herself nursing his wounds…

Father Padilla smiles at the retelling. “Only a druid’s daughter would keep her brother’s killer as a pet. Was Rontu your only friend?”

Rontu was the first animal friend she named, but there were others. “There were my birds, Tainor and Lurai. There was a fox I called Swiper. And my otter friend, who I named Mon-a-nee until I saw her nursing babies. I changed her name to Won-a-nee. ‘Girl with Big Eyes’ instead of ‘Boy.’”

Father Padilla’s eyes give Karana’s otter cloak an appraising look. “Are you wearing Won-a-nee?”

Karana shakes her head, laughing. “While I do cherish this cloak, and just adore my skirt of cormorant feathers, many summers and winters have passed since I stopped killing animals.”

“You didn’t object to the lobster last night.”

Karana shrugs. “I still fished. A girl has got to eat.”

While talking about clothing and hunting, Karana removes her stone necklace.

“There was one friend who was not an animal. A goblin! She was the only girl in a hunting party that arrived on the red ship. The male goblins painted the water around my island red from all the otters they killed. I feared they would kill me too.

“But only the girl discovered the cave where Rontu and I hid.” Crossing her arms, she notes, “Rontu gave me away with his noisy barking. He was a loyal companion, but a lousy guard dog.

“I held the goblin at spear point. She spoke her language. I spoke mine. All I understood was the beauty of her voice. Seven summers and winters had passed since I had last heard a human voice.”

Father interjects, “Goblins are not human. Nor are you, dear girl.”

Unfazed, Karana goes on, “You know what I mean, Father. Anyway, our common language was crafting! I made her earrings and she made me this necklace. We worked on our projects side by side, and just once, we embraced.

“It was just an awkward hug, but I still feel her. Tutok was my only friend on the island. When her red ship sailed away, there was no other person. Not until your people opened the secret gate.”

Father nods. “Yes, Miss Wonapalei. And we made you a ward of the church because you could not go out into the world on your own.

“But now, you have the words. And your faith is not ours. These hallowed halls are no place for a druid. The Great Dreamhouse in Isger will best suit your tastes, and your faith, Miss Wonapalei.” As the coach arrives, Father Padilla points out a place called the Reliant Book Company. “You expressed interest in learning Tutok’s Tongue, as you put it.

“Until I can find a goblin tutor, you’ll have to settle for the written word—Tutok’s hand?” His joke falls flat. Father Padilla awkwardly clears his throat and escorts Karana into the bookstore. There is a paladin there whose eyes are glued to a book.

Karana smiles at her, but knows better than to interrupt someone who is trying to read. She sits beside the stranger as Voz Lirayne hands her a Taldan-Goblin Dictionary. The first word she looks up is ‘pretty.’

I knew it!