The Last Valley

(or, if you insist, “Quest for Fuzzies”)

As told to Lilith the half-elf by Lirrin of Eristan

Author's Note: The fuzzies, many of their customs and mannerisms are blatantly ripped from H. Beam Piper's novel Little Fuzzy, and Ardath Mayhar's novel Golden Dream: A Fuzzy Odyssey. Changes in language and their history done by Lilith. This was written in approximately 1999, prior to the reimagined novel Little Fuzzy by John Scalzi.

It had been many days since the Bad Things had come to the valley. Since the morning they swept into the village, leaving a wake of death and bits of wrecked houses, Gashta had seen no other fuzzies. She paused in her journey, looking out over the forest ahead from the small hill she had climbed. There were no signs of fuzzies as far as her large, green eyes could see. Fortunately, there were no signs of the Bad Things, or of any large predators. As she turned to carefully pick her way down the hill, Gashta considered her situation. She was not a strong fuzzy, nor was she very fast. Alone, with only her hazozat gatak to protect her, she would not be a match for a single fazka-hodakizo, let alone a whole pack.

Reaching the bottom of the hill, Gashta turned toward the small river that ran through the woods. If any of her people lived, she guessed they would have gone to water, so that would be a reasonable place to begin searching. As she walked, she searched the undergrowth for signs of hazozat, but she saw none. It had been more than a day since she had seen one, and she feared there would be no more if she kept traveling away from the valley. A diet of nuts and berries was fine, but the delicious flesh of the insectlike hazozat was a treat not to be missed. Usually, the creatures were hardy and multiplied rapidly, so there was an ample supply wherever they were found.

In a few hours, Gashta reached the river, which was little more than a stream at this point in its course. She set down her gatak, and opened her hoku shi. Inside were a handful of nuts, a few personal belongings, and a small, sharp sliver of metal. She ate a few of the nuts, and packed the rest snugly into her bag. The day was fast fading into evening, and she knew she needed to find shelter before full dark, because that was the time the Bad Things preferred. If they caught her, she would not live to see the morning. Dipping her tiny hands into the stream, she washed the dust from the fur of her face, and combed her hair back from her eyes. Then she saw them. Footprints. Fuzzy-sized footprints, not her own, leading away from the stream towards an embankment on the far side.

Straining her voice into the upper speech-tones, inaudible to most of the local predators, Gashta called out, 'Is it that there are fuzzies here?' Picking up her gatak and gripping it tightly, she stared out across the stream.

To her delight, a voice called out, 'Who are you?' As she watched, a male fuzzy a few years older than herself stepped out from the shadow of a large tree. He peered across the water at Gashta, then apparently decided she was not a threat, as he lowered his gatak and motioned to her. 'This one has found shelter. Is it that you can cross the water?'

Gashta looked at the stream. It wasn't really very deep, but then she really wasn't very tall. She poked at the bottom cautiously with the butt of her gatak, and started across. The icy water soaked the fur of her legs, sending shivers up her back, but she slowly made her way across the river at a narrow spot. About three quarters of the way across, her foot slipped on a rock, and she tumbled into the stream with a yelp. The male fuzzy dropped his gatak and bounded forward, wading into the stream. He reached down and pulled Gashta to her feet, picked up her fallen gatak and indicated that she should use it like a staff. He held her other arm, and together they made it easily to shore.

The male led Gashta to a small cave at the base of a hill, where he had built a small fire. He motioned to her to sit near the fire, which she gratefully did. She studied the male as he unslung his hoku shi and dug inside. He was taller than she, with darker fur and unusual golden eyes. Though she had never been mated, she found herself wondering if the Hagfaaki would allow a pairing between them. Belatedly, she realized that the Hagfaaki was dead, killed by a Bad Thing. The thought came to her that she and this strange, solemn fuzzy might be the last two members of her race, and she began to cry.

At this, the male looked up from his bag, watching Gashta intently. "You have pain?" he asked, concerned. He closed his hoku shi and set it near the wall of the cave, then went over to sit by the fire, near Gashta. Great salty tears rolled through the fur of her face as Gashta sniffled a reply. "Yes," she said. "This one's family was killed by the Bad Things. This one's whole village was killed. I have been alone since then." She stopped, and began to sob again.

The male nodded. "This one's village was destroyed by the Bad Things two seasons ago." He paused, staring into the fire. "It is a difficult thing, to be alone, and have no one to make Beautiful Things for your home, and no one to sing with." Shifting positions to face her, he stretched out a hand and combed his fingers through the mane of fur behind Gashta's head. "I have sorrow for you. But do not cry, you are not alone now. This one will protect you. I am called Brave Fuzzy."

Gashta wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "This one is called Gashta." She waited to see Brave Fuzzy's reaction to her odd name.

The male cocked his head to one side, considering. "Gashta," he said, as if trying out the sound. "Is it that you were not named by the Hagfaaki?"

Gashta smiled tentatively. "It is that the Hagfaaki and this one's sire were siblings, and I was given the name of one who saved my sire's life." She stopped, and looked into the flames. It was unheard of for a fuzzy to be named after a being not of their tribe. Her own village had eventually accepted her strange name, but she didn't know if anyone else would.

Brave Fuzzy shrugged. "Gashta is a pretty name. It is a singer's name. Is it that you will sing for me?"

Smiling, the small female nodded. She spent the rest of the evening with Brave Fuzzy singing songs of their ways, and properly mourning her people.

Gashta remained with Brave Fuzzy, traveling where he did. Once, she had to scramble for cover as the shadow of a gotza swooped by. Brave Fuzzy stood his ground, ready to attack it with just his gatak to protect her, but the winged predator flew on past without spotting the travelers. For a hand of days, they moved steadily south and west through the forest, and finally she asked if there were someplace they were heading, or if they were just wandering.

"This one has heard stories of a village in a forest near a lake so wide and deep it cannot be crossed by fuzzies. When I was a child, my parents told me stories of the valley far away. When I got older, I asked our teacher, Tells Things, if she knew of the valley. It is that she did not believe in the stories, but she told me that the valley was supposed to be somewhere in the south and towards the setting of the sun. If there are any fuzzies to be found alive, it is that they will be there."

Gashta stopped and thought for a minute. This was easily the longest speech that Brave Fuzzy had given since she had met him, and it was news of great hope to her. She looked at him, and nodded. "It is that we will find it, if it is there."

Laughing, Brave Fuzzy ruffled Gashta's left ear. "My Gashta, always the hoper and dreamer." When she playfully kicked at him for that remark, he laughed again. "And always playing games. It is that you are never serious for long." He hugged her, and Gashta snuggled against his furry chest.

Half a hand of days later, Gashta and Brave Fuzzy crested a hill, and gasped in awe. A strange, wonderful sight lay before them; a city, built of wood and clay and stone. It was far too large and too structured to be a fuzzy village. The thought crossed Gashta's mind that it might be a Bad Thing place, but she realized that it was too open to the light of the sun, and too bright looking. She peered at Brave Fuzzy, to see what he would do.

The male was looking at the village, his ears flattened slightly. "A village of Big Ones," he said. "It is that these are dangerous places." He dug his gatak into the ground, a nervous habit he'd picked up years before. "Wait here. It is that the people might know of the valley. This one will go ask."

Before he could move, Gashta grabbed his arm. "No. This one will not stay behind. We both go, or neither of us go." She smiled, the same bright smile that had made Brave Fuzzy's heart melt. "It is that you are probably overreacting again. They are people, like fuzzies."

Despite his misgivings, Brave Fuzzy could not say no to Gashta when she smiled at him like that. "Okay. But this one will lead. If I say to run, you will run. Do you understand?" When Gashta nodded, he gave her a quick hug, then turned toward the big village.

In her garden behind the Healer's Hall, Lirrin kicked at a large insect- like creature. Ever since she had brought those herbs back from the high mountains, the damned things had been everywhere. Sighing, she almost wished that the place were infested with rats instead; at least rats were kind of cute.

Just as she was about to settle down and prune her roses, she heard the high tinkling of the bell in the hall. With a quick glance skyward, she dropped her pruning knife and headed into the building.

"Hello," she smiled at the large, brutish creature that fairly filled one of the chairs along the north wall. "What can I do for you?"

"Me hurt. You healer?" The creature looked almost sheepish, and went on, "Me get bitten. You fix hand." He (at least Lirrin assumed it was a male) held out his left hand, which had been mangled by something with VERY nasty teeth.

Lirrin nodded. "Of course," she said, laying her hands on the injury. A surge of power coursed down her arms, and she smiled. "Better?" she asked.

The creature pondered a moment, and slowly a dumb smile spread across it's maw. "Better." It patted Lirrin on the head, giving her a slight headache, and dug in its belt pouch, handing her a gold coin. "Me thank little one," it said, as it lumbered out the door.

As she rubbed her head, Lirrin decided to take a break and walk out to get some food at the Silver Coin. Pocketing the money, she hung a small sign on the bell, indicating where she would be, and stepped out into the marketplace.

When she arrived at the Silver Coin, she noticed a small knot of people standing in one corner of the lobby. A few people were laughing, and several were simply staring. More unsettling, a few were drawing weapons. Lirrin drew herself up to her full height, which was still a few feet short of anything imposing, and stepped over to the crowd, elbowing her way past the people.

In the middle of the group were two small, confused-looking creatures. They were even smaller than Lirrin, standing perhaps the same height as a grown gnome. Their eyes were enourmous, and their bodies were covered from head to toe in a luxiurious, silky fur. Neither of them wore clothing, but both of them carried shoulderbags and pointed sticks. The darker of the two was slightly taller, and stood in front of the other. It was jabbering something at the crowd, which laughed again.

"Aw, kill the little blighter," came a voice from the crowd. "It's too damn cute to live." Lirrin's ears grew hot, and she stepped in front of the small creatures and turned to face the crowd.

Giving the people her best motherly stare, she crossed her arms and said, "Anyone who wants to do that will have to come through me to do it." She waited for a response. No one moved, and a few people turned away from the crowd. "Well?" she asked.

"We just be havin' some fun, lassie," called a voice. "We dinna mean no harm."

Raising an eyebrow, Lirrin replied, "Well, have it someplace else. Can't you see you're scaring the poor things?" At that, the crowd seemed to lose heart, and began to break up, the people drifting back into the market or down into the tavern.

Seeing that she had been left more or less alone with the strange, furry creatures, she turned to face them. They peered up at her curiously, apparently understanding that she was on their side.

The darker of the two stepped forward. "Bizzut," it said in a strangely melodic voice. "Hatan hodda hozut Dada?" Lirrin decided that this little one was a male, and the other was a female. She knew that was based on very little evidence, but somehow it just felt right.

Smiling, Lirrin said, "I am Lirrin." When the creature didn't respond, she pointed to herself and said slowly, "Lirrin." The fuzzy repeated the sound, frowning. The smaller fuzzy also repeated it, but made a sound much like a giggle. Lirrin pointed at each of the fuzzies, indicating she wished to know their names.

"Lonozat" the dark one said. "Holohud dosha hag Gashta." He pointed to the smaller fuzzy. "Gashta," he repeated. "Lo ka fazatda hodda soaki hudakiga kudo ga hatan?" the female asked brightly.

"Um..." said Lirrin, scratching her head. "I think you two kids better come with me. We'll figure out what it is you want, and find you something to eat. I hope you don't mind a few bugs around the house." She led them off to the healer's hall, wondering if the rest of the day would be as interesting.