The path down from the foothills of the mountains was as treacherous as the ascent. Jiraiya, now more agile and resilient thanks to his fused training, navigated the rocky terrain with a dexterity that would have impressed any climbing shinobi from his world. He left the strangely geometric formations and the palpable energy resonating above behind, sensing that although he was approaching a place of power, it was not yet time to confront whatever might reside there. His survival instincts and strategic mind told him he needed more knowledge, more mastery of this savage energy, before he sought out Father Mountain directly.
His journey led him toward a dense forest covering the lower slopes, different from the primordial jungle near the Olwatu settlement. The trees here were taller and thinner, with a canopy that formed an almost unbroken roof, plunging the forest floor into perpetual gloom. Strange arboreal creatures moved among the branches, and the ground was filled with twisted roots and slick moss. The air smelled damp, woody, and something sweet and decaying.
He moved through this new biome with the same caution, adapting his stealth techniques to the three-dimensional environment. He used his growing agility and strength to swing on vines and navigate low-hanging branches, avoiding the dangerous ground whenever possible. He continued to hone his senses, learning to differentiate between the benign sounds of the forest and those that indicated the presence of predators.
After several days of travel, guided by subtle traces indicating the presence of humanoids and the faint, distant sound of drums, he found another settlement. This tribe was different from the Olwatu. They lived not at the foot of a great tree, but suspended between the branches of a group of giant trees interconnected by vine walkways and wooden platforms. It was a village in the sky, protected from the dangers of the forest floor.
He observed from a distance for a full day, studying their social structure, their routines, and their defenses. They were more slender than the Olwatu, with lighter-toned skin and hair braided with plant fibers and feathers. Their weapons were primarily bows and spears, but they also used aerial traps and a form of combat that took advantage of their incredible mobility in the canopy.
His approach to making contact was similar to the one he used with the Olwatu: approaching peacefully, unarmed, and demonstrating vulnerability (to the extent that a young man with the mind of a Sannin could do so). He approached the village in the canopy, attracting the attention of the sentries on the raised platforms.
The initial reaction was one of intense suspicion. He was greeted by warriors with bows drawn, their arrows pointed at him. Their language was different from Olwatu, although there were similarities that, with his knack for languages, allowed him to quickly pick up words and phrases. This tribe called themselves the "Aethel," which seemed to mean "people of the air" or "those who live high."
A young warrior with battle scars on her face, who appeared to be the leader of the sentry group, addressed him in a firm, distrustful voice. She demanded to know who he was and how he had reached her territory unnoticed.
Jiraiya, using his growing Aethel vocabulary and complementing it with gestures, explained that he was a "Wanderer," a traveler seeking knowledge and guided by the sounds of his tribe. He tried to convey respect rather than threat, utilizing the humility that a young body naturally inspired.
The young warrior, whose name he learned was ' Zehra ,' studied him with sharp eyes. She hesitated. Strangers in her territory rarely meant anything good. But she also saw the lack of weapons, the apparent youth, and a strange honesty in his gaze (Jiraiya was a master of deception, but also a master at appearing genuine when it suited him). After a tense silence, she lowered her bow slightly and gestured, allowing him to enter the outskirts of the village.
He was brought before the chief, a tall, thin man named 'Aerion,' whose feathers and ornaments indicated his status. The questioning was more formal, but Jiraiya repeated his story, emphasizing his respect for his tribe and his desire to learn. He demonstrated his tracking skills by pointing out beast tracks they had missed, and his agility by moving through the wooden structures in a manner unexpectedly fluid for a non-Aethel. His demonstrations, though subtle, showed that he was neither helpless nor a hindrance.
The Aethel, though more reserved than the Olwatu, appreciated his ability to contribute. They offered him shelter and food, allowing him to remain in the village under constant surveillance. As with the Olwatu, Jiraiya immersed himself in their culture and knowledge. He learned their unique techniques for moving through the canopy, their use of ropes and zip lines, their knowledge of flying and tree-dwelling beasts, and their legends, which spoke of air spirits and the trees' connection to the island itself.
But it was Jiraiya's kinky side that made for the most... memorable situations. The Aethel culture, living in the canopy and wearing little clothing for practicality, had a different relationship with nudity and the body than even the Olwatu. This, combined with Jiraiya's insatiable curiosity (and perversion) about the mating customs of all species, led to moments of great discomfort.
He attempted to apply his "research techniques" to "document" Aethel's courtship patterns, which resulted in him being caught in compromising positions (hiding behind a giant leaf, peering from a higher branch) on more than one occasion. His comments, often interpreted literally due to his still imperfect grasp of the language, about Aethel's "beauty" or "interesting body shape," caused blushes or puzzled looks.
Once, he was discovered attempting to draw "research sketches" of the Aethel warriors while they were bathing in a natural pool in the canopy. The reaction was not as violent as it might have been in Konoha (no one broke his bones, unlike Tsunade), but he was met with a chorus of outraged shouts, spears pointed at him, and a furious rebuke from Zehra , who deemed him not only perverted, but also "a very strange freak."
"Wanderer! What do you think you're doing?" Zehra shouted , her face painted with fury.
Jiraiya, trying to regain his composure and dignity (a battle lost long ago), tried to explain. "I... was just conducting 'research' on tribal hygiene customs. For me... my... 'book'..." The words were lost in his clumsy mental translation.
Zehra just frowned, clearly not understanding the concept of a "book" or "research" in that context, but perfectly understanding the implication of spying. "Our baths are sacred! If you do this again, I'll throw you down to the forest floor for the Rootcreepers to eat!"
These incidents, though comical from his adult perspective (and the source of much "investigative" material), generated tension. The Aethel were tolerant up to a point, but his strangeness and perverted impulses tested that tolerance. Kael, had he been there, would have sighed in resignation. Jiraiya was still Jiraiya, no matter what the world.
Despite the awkward moments, Jiraiya learned a lot. The Aethel had a different connection to the island's energy, focusing more on the "ethereal" energy of the air and the life in the canopy, in contrast to the Olwatu's grounded connection. Their rituals seemed to involve more chanting and vibrating in the air. Jiraiya experimented, trying to sense that airy energy, visualizing his own body attuning to the air currents and the vitality of the canopy. He noticed that his attempts to manipulate the energy became more fluid, more...light, when he focused on this airy energy.
He learned about the island's other territories, listening to the Aethel explorers' stories of the rocky shores, the deepest swamps, and, again, the towering mountains at its center—a place even the Aethel considered filled with ancient and powerful spirits, the domain of the Great Apes and other primordial Titans. Their legends of "Father Mountain" were similar to those of the Olwatu, but with different details, seeing him more as a spirit of the air and storm force.
After several weeks (or perhaps months, the concept of tribal time was more flexible) with the Aethel, Jiraiya knew he had learned all he could from them. He had expanded his knowledge of Kong's world, understood another facet of his energy, and, for his "research," had collected invaluable (and highly kinky) ethnographic material on another civilization.
Zehra 's lingering distrust and Aerion's resignation. Jiraiya thanked them for their hospitality (in his own way) and headed toward the coast, a promising new territory for exploration and, of course, "research." The journey continued, each village and each encounter a step closer to understanding this world, mastering its power, and getting closer to his destiny.
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