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The Creatures of Faerie: Sujia
Introduction and Conclusion by Lady Emily
To the Monsters and Creatures Treatises
Mirid’s journal was discovered by huntsmen exploring the forests south of Glory of the Hills. It recalls only four days of entries. The huntsmen succeeded in finding the Sujia’s den, but the creature was either dead or had moved on, for the cavern was empty.
Judging by the condition of the leather-wrapped journal, the incident probably occurred last year. This journal serves as what is likely one of the best accounts of the behavior of this elusive and highly dangerous predator.
An Aran
Just starting a new journal. I’ve passed through that valley that I feared would give me so much trouble, and have safely left civilization behind. Now to trek through the southlands of the Old World. If I succeed in reaching the ocean at the southern tip, I’ll be the first man to record such a journey. Until now, all such ventures have followed the coastline, and the interior of this isle remains mysterious.
It looks like good trekking ahead – wide mountain passes that appear a little less forbidding than those to the west. But there’ll be a lot of hills ahead.
An Meja
Windy today, and blessedly so, for I’ve stumbled on a most unusual find. I’m writing from among a gathering of boulders on a hillside and looking down into a sort of grotto. There’s a little pond and a cave – a smaller entrance, but I thought I’d stay here for a bit and see if anything lives in it. I must have sat for an hour, at least. I like these sorts of things – the patient waiting, the watching.
And then it emerged, ducking low to clear the entrance.
At once I knew it was a sujia.
I found myself trembling, startled at how I was drawn to her beauty, at how I was repulsed by the reality of a creature half human and half cat.
She moved out to the pond and drank. Then she lifted her head and scented the air.
It was windy, as I said, and I was downwind. Otherwise I fear that I might have had some trouble on my hands.
I’ve read about these creatures. Extensively. And here, suddenly, one was before me.
They’re fae, dwelling half in our world and half in the realm of faerie. But like the Sereg, the sujia are not immortal. They live perhaps for forty years, making their homes in the deepest wilderness, and seldom are they seen by human eyes.
Why, then, was this one not a day from human settlements?
The book I had read, not two years ago, had been filled with folklore and legend. I had read it carefully, doing my best to separate sensible passages in the work from rumors and conjecture. Now I have a chance to verify my suppositions. I’ll watch with my scope.
It is evening now. I’ve had a day of watching, and before the sunlight fades I’m going to set to parchment some of my findings.
It is said that the sujia is solitary, and it certainly seems so. She has not spoken all day, and certainly hasn’t had any interaction with any others of her kind. Nor have other fae ventured into the clearing. And she seems content with this. For part of the afternoon she wove a basket out of reeds gathered from the pond’s edge. Then she played, stalking along the edge of the pond and waiting, tail twitching, before she pounced in after what were obviously minnows. I know, because she caught one once, and instead of eating it, she looked at it for a while, apparently watching how the sunlight glistened off its scales
And then she let it go.
I remember reading that the race of sujia were naught but beasts, with no relation to the human mind. But seeing her make the basket, seeing her observe the tiny fish – these are human traits, and it makes me wonder at what is in her thoughts.
Then she went off hunting, and my luck couldn’t have been better. She was lost to my sight for the longest while, but then she appeared on a distant slope, and by standing atop my boulder, I could watch her with my scope.
The sujia is a stalker. Though, to be fair, when she gave chase she outran a deer. Here is what I saw –
The distant slope was composed of huge upright boulders and short, yellow grasses. She studied the area for a time, and bent now and again. From the distance it was difficult to tell if she was only smelling at the ground, but oft enough she picked something from the grasses and examined it. I can only suppose that she was looking for sign of recent game.
Then she must have chosen a trail, for she found a boulder and hid herself behind it.
For a long while nothing happened.
I’m guessing that her first attempt was for a rabbit. It was too small for me to see from my vantage, but the dodging nature of her chase made me think of the tactics rabbits use to escape danger. And escape it must have, for she came up empty-handed and made her way back to her ambush.
It was soon after when the deer came. A whole herd – eight or nine, I counted, and they picked their way down toward her hiding-place, grazing as they did. They moved slowly, and I watched her as she waited, still as a statue. I couldn’t see it, but I imagined that the very tip of her tail alone was twitching.
One of the deer must have scented her, for suddenly it looked up, and in that very moment she launched out from her hiding-place.
Such speed! Such agility!
As one the deer bolted, streaking down the hill, and the sujia followed in swift pursuit. There was a gathering of large boulders, and the deer took the left side. To my surprise, the sujia took the right. It was another distinctly human trait – to suppose that the deer would cut right at the end of the boulders and that she could head them off. But luck wasn’t with her, and the deer cut the other way.
When she emerged? That’s when I saw the true speed at her command. She shot forward, well behind now, and focused in on one of the does that was lagging behind. The doe cut once, and I surely thought, at that speed, that the sujia would either fall or have to give up the chase. But she cut even more sharply, a liquid sort of motion, and was suddenly on the deer’s back, her forepaws raking down so that the deer stumbled and fell.
Her hands and claws all worked in unison, and in a moment the deer lay still.
She stayed there for a long while, eating. And then she hid the remainder of the carcass under some rocks and started for home.
I was worried, of course, that she would vary her course and come home through my hiding place. But in an hour she was back, entering the clearing just where she had left, and she lay in the sun until it was nearly dark.
I’ve heard that the sujia are nocturnal. I’d suggest not, for she was clearly at home in the daylight, and the setting sun saw her slipping into her cave.
I waited expectantly, wondering if I would see or smell any sign of fire.
None yet, and the light is too dim to write. I’m off to find a safer place to sleep.
An Tiné
I’ve come back to my perch, and I’ve been blessed with a favorable wind once again! What luck! She has emerged early, and at the edge of the pond she took a comb and worked through her long, black hair. Despite her horrific appearance, I found myself strangely entranced, and began to wonder if I might communicate with her. I speak a bit of Old Tongue, which is, I presume, her language. And if the rumors hold true that sujia will capture and keep humans, might she not speak some Caradorian as well?
She waded into the pond, then, and began to rub a handful of herbs over her flesh and fur.
What am I thinking? In one sentence I state that the sujia will capture and keep humans, and in the next I wonder if I can talk to her? I must beware the effects of glamour.
She loped off into the woods, only to emerge on the far slope. She spent some time at her cache, and then was gone for a long while over the far hill. I found myself almost desperate to go down and explore her cave. What an opportunity this is, to be so close to such an elusive, beautiful creature! But if I leave my scent by her lair, she will only too easily follow my trail. This is a highly dangerous animal.
Or is she? Are any of the sujia, really? The book I read recounted many historical instances when the sujia were actively hunted. In Masalla, seven hundred years ago, a noble was slain by a sujia while hunting, and a huge slaughter was conducted over the isle. There are no more sujia on the isle of Masalla today – a testament to how successful those hunts were. And in Shavay, a coming-of-age ritual for young men of a certain tribe demands that they capture one of the black-skinned tiger-bodied sujia of Shavay. She is brought back to the village, subjected to unspeakable rituals, and finally eaten. Even here, in the Old World, the Dragon Hunts were a time when sujia were captured and either sold as exotic pets or slain in public executions.
Perhaps the wrong has been done by us to the sujia, instead of the other way around.
She is back now, and has brought apples and berries. Some she is eating, while others she is setting out to dry in the sun. She is a beautiful thing. I imagine she must get lonely out here, so far from anyone who has a similar nature. I’m reflecting on how many creatures of fae are misunderstood by us – how many are maligned just because they appear different and frightening to our eyes. How terrible can a creature be if she weaves baskets, captures fish just for the joy of watching them swim away, and partakes of fruits and berries?
What I have before me is an opportunity unlike any that will ever come again. I have had the luck to witness this creature’s behavior for nearly two days, without her being aware of my observations. Now it is only left for me to establish communication with her. I have things in my pack which she might find enticing, and surely, with my knowledge of Old Tongue and her possible knowledge of Caradorian, we will have much to say to each other. It is a chance to find out what is truly behind the nature of this strange, solitary creature.
But the danger! I shall watch her more tonight.
Very interesting. Again I’m writing by fading light, so I’ll have to keep things brief. But she has just stepped into her lair and emerged with a flute. Once, many years ago, I heard a sound like this – deep and breathy, ethereal and rich. She set it to her lips and filled the woodlands with the sounds, and I hardly realized that the wind had stopped blowing until she suddenly paused and scented at the air. I ducked down, hardly breathing, and waited. At last she took up the flute again and began to play.
Silently I crept away to the camp I used last night.
An Tir
I slept little last night. The forest seemed alive with sounds – pawing footsteps haunting the perimeter of my camp. I feared it was her – feared it even as I assured myself that it was only a deer or raccoon or opossum. I had no light – dared not light even a candle – for fear that she would smell it and find me. And so I trembled in the darkness. The most horrible part of it was that I sometimes wished it were her.
I don’t know what to do. I have seen so many human traits in the sujia’s actions. I simply can’t believe she wouldn’t be interested in a human who wasn’t afraid of her. I tell myself that I’ve read, and heard, again and again, that the sujia will prey upon humans as readily as they will upon rabbit or deer. More than that – that the sujia, as a race, developed with the intention of luring humans. Her beauty, her passionate lips – they promise forbidden pleasures that I can scarcely comprehend.
And yet, I know that my purposes are nobler than that – that I wish only to learn about her kind, to return with a message that the sujia are not the bloodthirsty beasts portrayed in our literature. To know her.
Even if she has preyed upon humans in the past, I will surely be different than the others. I can speak her tongue. I can understand her heart.
Even as I write the decision comes clear. If I walk away, pass by this opportunity, I will wonder for the rest of my life. I won’t be . . . complete.
I’m going to approach the camp carefully, prepared with offerings and soothing words. She’ll approach tentatively, I’m sure, but once she understands who I am, she’ll know that she, too, has a tremendous opportunity before her.
One of the first things I’ll introduce her to is fire.
I’m off, and I’ll write more tonight.
And that is the last entry in Mirid’s journal. We can only presume that he became the sujia’s prey. The nature of such predations are quite unknown to us, but one thing is clear. The sujia clearly, as legends state, possess powerful glamouric capabilities. And a study of the overall flavour of the progression of Mirid’s writing should make evident that he fell victim to its power.
An interesting note, however. The huntsmen who found the journal and explored the sujia’s abandoned lair reported that outside the lair’s entrance, they found evidence of . . . a campfire.
The reader may speculate from there.
To the Monsters and Creatures Treatises