Nothing in here is inspired by ALFA. This stuff comes from a deeper place than ALFA will ever occupy. I share it because this is what I used to do as an ALFA DM. Make stories. Easily enough forgotten.
Cruix Tor
The Awakening
Angler’s Lighthouse was a one hour hard run through hilly terrain from the frontier keep of Yanchep, but Kay Aja finished it two minutes under the hour. Fishermen for centuries had run from the keep to the lighthouse to secure their fishing permits for the following year, and the tradition had captured the interest of the youngsters who had turned it into a real contest. Now every abled body with a competetive bone entered. The plaque on the sundial was engraved with Kay’s name alongside the year 977, 5 years after her mother had won it for the ninth time running. The annual race, known as Angler’s Dash, also marked the end of harvest and the start of Long Dark where daylight lasted but 3 hours. The enjoyable event was thus always tinged with remorse by the people of Yanchep. Winters were long in this corner of Cruix Tor.
Kay’s 20 years had been spent largely within the Yanchep Royal Stables. Each town maintained a stable should it ever arise that the Queen or one of her family required a fresh horse, however unlikely a scenario that seemed to the townsfolk. Kay’s mother had managed the stable in much the same way that Kay now managed them; competently, independently and without ever riding a single horse. As odd as it seemed to Yanchep’s inhabitants, the Aja’s literally ran their horses the way most folk walked their dogs. It was not uncommon to see a two bridled horses at a fast canter across Yanchep’s meadows with Kay Aja sprinting between them. When quizzed about why she never rode, Kay quipped, as her mother had often done, that it was simply more fun to run.
At dusk on the day of Angler’s Dash people scampered to tie loose ends together before the Long Dark set in. A small crowd at The Stubborn Mule enjoyed a ballad from the travelling bard, Ambrosia, a regular at Yanchep, and Kay Aja hummed it to herself as she strode down the hill along the cobblestone road. Small shops lined the main street of Yanchep as it wound down the side of a hill. She selected a door, more by its sloppy green paintjob than by any other distinguishng landmark. The doorknob slipped from her fingers as a sudden gust of wind ushered her in, slamming the door against the wall.
“Feel free to slam door closed too, no?” muttered the shopkeep, seemingly through vocal cords of rusted iron. A female dwarf, clean shaven, with a meaty brow and flaxen hair bound behind her back sat behind her workbench with her cobbling tools neatly arrayed before her. “Horses run fast, but not so fast as you, no?”
“It was the shoes, B`rel. Perfect for my feet.”
“So, they held up, no? Next time you have more faith in B`rel, no? Show.” B`rel’s dwarvish tongue wrestled with the common language, attacking it as if wrestling a bear. Kay sat on the chair in front of the workbench and propper her feet on it. B`rel gripped the left shoe firmly, eyeing it suspiciously, her brow suddenly creasing in alarm. “The stich at the toe, it hold”, began B`rell, jabbing the toe stitch. “And the heel feel firm still.” The dwarf reached under Kay’s foot and grasped the heel, a leather encased sea-sponge she had found, molistened with oil and stiched to the back of the shoe.
“The heel was as you predicted. The jarring was reduced quite a bit. In fact, I barely noticed any jarring at all.”
“Good. Very good, Kay Aja. You look for more sponge for me, no?”
Kay left B`rel’s shop and walked back to the stable. It was dark outside and Sivis was struggling to finish lighting the streetlamps. “How’s the back?” asked Kay. Sivis grunted something Kay couldn’t decipher, but there was no doubting the dwarf’s meaning. Kay wondered at the merit of making Sivis the Lamplighter given he was about the shortest person in town, and one of the few with a bad back. Many things about the Yanchep’s council confused Kay.
The Yanchep Royal Stables occupied pride of place within the keep, positioned at the end of the main road. Three buildings built from mahogany, the central stable rising twice as high as the other two and containing 6 stalls. This was the main stable and its loft served as Kay’s living quarters. The smaller 3 stall stables were each equipped with their own tack and wash rooms, but had no loft. Fioryn the stablehand was mucking out the stables weilding the rake savagely. “Leave it, Fioryn. Go and clean up.” Fionry breathed a sigfh of relief, shook her rake clean and hung it on its hook as she made her way to the loft. Kay followed her up the ladder, breathing in the scent of the 6 horses in the stable, wrinkling her nose as she sought for any hint of illness in them.
“I knew you’d win the dash, Kay” said Fioryn as Kay slumped onto her bed. Fioryn rubbed her hands vigorously beneath the water in the bucket. “And under one hour. You’re the first.”
“It was B`rel’s shoes”, snorted Kay, cursing that she now would forever be known as the first to go under an hour. Or maybe that was better than how she was currently known. The Grieving Sister. “How’s Skip’s forlock?”
“Still infected.”
Kay sat up in her bed and smiled at Fioryn. It came out as more of a grimace. “Come on, sweetie. Dinner time.” In short order the potatoes were boiling and the other vegetables steaming over their ingeneously designed fireplace. Nhivash the elf smithy and gnome illusionist Dradeal had combined their efforts to make a wrought-iron fireplace and oven that posed no fire risk to the stable. The loft of the barn had permanent fire retarding enchantments to ensure that Kay was entirely self-sufficient. They knew she valued her privacy.
The next morning, the last day before Long Dark, was a cloudy and windy affair. Kay woke unusually late heard Fiory talking to the horses as she fed them. Kay washed her face and threw on some clothes, not even bothering to look at herself in the mirror. Scaling down the ladder she waved at Fiory and bridled-up two of the horses. Within minutes she was sprinting between them down the street towards Jachemir’s Bluff. Aemusul, Yanchep elder and friend of Kay’s mother, waved as Kay ran by. “Come see me today, Kay,” she called before continuing on her way to the Council Chambers.
Kay pondered the request. Aemusul had tried to encourage Kay to rejoin the community in a more cooperative capacity and Kay had begrudged the effort. Kay was happy tending to the stables and if the community expected any more than that then they’d have to get used to disappointment. She increased her speed as the cobblestone road gave way to rolling pastures and farmers at work. She had to convince herself that her decision to remain in Yanchep and tend to the stables was the best one. What else could she do? Moreover, where else could she go? She’d never travelled outside of Yanchep and with her sister gone, who would she go with? She had no close friends anymore. People she had been close to had tired of waiting for her to open up.
Kay raced the horses down a large hill to its bottom, dropping her pace as the ground levelled. Jachomir’s Bluff approached at the bottom of which, as far as the eye could see, lay the Bay of XXXXXXX. Suddenly she quickened her pace. The edge of the precipitous bluff neared and she bullied the horses faster. The horses on realizing their mistress’ intent slid to a stop, a foot from the rocky edge, their hooves clatterring and scraping painfully. Kay did not stop and flew from the edge, as yet undecided about releasing the reins or not. The reins snapped taut and Kay fell against the ledge, bouncing off and sliding over it, laughing as she dragged the horses heads down.
The horses regarded her, fear and brewing panic in their eyes. The bridles would simply come free altogether were they to lower their heads any further. Kay let the horses decide. She smiled up at them, waiting for their decision. For a moment she believed she could see the horses sharing thoughts with each other. Kay’s sweating palms slipped and she slid a foot lower, to the end of the rein. One hand slipped free altogether, and she hung below the ledge, staring out over Jachomir’s Bluff, marvelling at its terrifying beauty. Kay looked back up at the horses and then together they raised their heads, lifting Kay to safety.
Her side was bruised but she forced herself to run. The stares of the horses as she dangled from the bluff haunted her mind, their confused, uncomprehending gaze humiliating her to her core. Why would you do this, they seemed to ask? And why involve us? The run home didn’t take nearly as long as she felt it should. Returning the horses to their stables Kay then rubbed them down and watered them. She immersed herself in the task, blocking all other thought out. For a long time after the run-down was finished, Kay remained in the stall, sitting in the hay, listening to the mare feed. She stared into nothingness, images of confused, questioning eyes leering at her.
“Kay.” Fiory waited a few moments. “Kay!” she shouted. Kay sat bolt upright, clipping the back of her head on a stall railing.
“Damnation!” she cursed, rubbing her head. “What is it, Fiory?”
“You were asleep. Aemusul is waiting for you at the stable gate.” Fiory’s concern for Kay had been evolving into an impatience over the lasy year or two. For a young girl she was capable of maturity beyond her years, but Kay was finding new ways to test her Fiory’s limits.
“Allright.” Kay held her head getting to her feet. “What time is it?” Fiory was already walking away. Kay splashed some water on her face from the horses water trough and wandered to the stable gate. Aemusul was sitting on a stool, her feet swinging to and fro. As a gnome she was all of 3 foot tall, and she was one of the shorter gnomes in Yanchep. Aemusul sucked on her pipe absently as Kay approached. Kay peered into the pipe and sat down on the grass next to the stool. “Your pipe’s out.”
“Got a light?”
“What did you want to see me about, Aemusul? I’ve got chores before dark.” Kay’s frustration at the necessity for this conversation consumed what little remained of her restraint.
“It’s nothing, Kay. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you another time if I get a chance.” Aemusul slipped off the stool and wandered up the cobblestone road.
“Don’t think that trick works on me, Aemusul.” Kay leapt to her feet and stomped after the departing gnome. “I’m in no mood to talk and your attempt at giving me the guilts won’t wash.”
“Ok. Another time, Kay.” Aemusul didn’t slow her pace at all.
“Just like you, sticking your craw in where it’s not wanted.”
“I know.”
“Just like you to time your appearance so it most embarrasses me.” Kay was just warming up.
“It was, wasn’t it.”
“And it’s just like you to pretend you’ve got some special insight into my life.”
“And we both know I don’t.”
“Damn right. You don’t. You never have. Yet you’ve the arrogance to intrude on my life.”
“I was wrong. It was my fault.”
Kay pounced. “Yes it was! It sure as blazes wasn’t mine.” Kay was practically yelling at the gnome as they walked through the crowded street, oblivious to the townsfolk all around them. And the townsfolk didn’t seem to notice. In truth they had seen this many times before over the past 5 years.
“It was all my fault and I’m very, very sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Aemusul played her role well.
“I forgive you, although I’m not sure if you deserve it.” Kay’s mania receeded.
“See you tonight, Kay. My place in three hours.” Aemusul entered her herbal shop and closed the door, leaving Kay standing on the street.
The Gate Horn sounded, heralding the sighting of someone on the road heading towards Yanchep. The Gate Warden’s voice run out across town. “Radei Dwarves approach!” Kay joined the throng flocking to the watchtowers. The stone wall surrounding the town stood 10 feet high, and watchtowers of timber construction were positioned evey 100 feet or so inside its perimeter. Kay swung left and sprinted for Tolan’s Tower in the south west of the town. Yanchep was built on top of a large hill, and the road approached from the north, but curved around the hill and met the town gate from the south. Kay was the first to arrive at Tolan’s Tower and scrambled up the ladder to the platform above. 30 dwarves approached, mostly female by their clean-shaven appearance, bedecked in chainmail armor of polished silver. Their red tabbards were adorned with the emblem of the Radei Clan, a ship in full sail atop a solitary wave. They marched in unison and sang a much-loved Radei travel song as they came.
Amidst the dwarves, at the center of the group, stood a very tall dwarf. Clean shaven and with closely-cropped blond hair, the dwarf wore rust-colored chainmail and an elegant short cape of emerald green hanging to her waist with a hood. The gate swung open and the dwarves entered town to the cheers of the townsfolk. Elaenata, the Queen’s Regent in Yanchep, although no relation to the queen’s family, stepped down from the carriage that arrived, borne by two horses from the Royal Stable. “Mina bless you, Fiory,” muttered Kay under her breath, knowing she was the one who should have readied the carriage. Elaenata stood before the dwarves and bowed.
“The Radei Clan are much beloved in Yanchep. You are welcome here.” The tall dwarf moved forward through the ranks and stood before Elaenata, bowing low and with grace.
“Onekei Gavril of the Radei Clan, M’am. Thankyou for your hospitality.” Onekei’s voice was educated and patient. She smiled at Elaenta who bowed again and returned to her carriage. Once the carriage had departed, Onekei turned to her company. “Ale’s on me.” A cheer erupted from all assembled and many of the town’s dwarves rushed to greet old friends.
Kay watched from the tower, envying the blond dwarf her grace and ease. The townsfolk dispersed, many of them flocking to The Stubborn Mule and Windward taverns. Kay climbed down from the tower and ambled back to the stables. Night was coming on and she needed to think before seeing Aemusul. Time seemed so meaningless to her these days. Its passage was without significance to her. She stopped and concentrated, listening to the wind that had sprung up. She closed her eyes and bent into it slightly, resting her weight on the balls of her feet. She could hear discrete tunnels of air passing by, pockets of air moving, shifting size and shape, corridors whose walls bent and swayed and the whispering that seemed to instruct it all. The blissfully random nature of the wind eased her mind. There is no order here, she mused. There is only chance and random occurrence.
This thought she played with for a while as she resumed her walking. She had believed there was order in her life once. Her family best represented that order. Everything made sense. Even when her mother and father died she still believed that order did exist and things were meant to happen for a reason. But when her sister died, after all the precautions Kay had made to ensure that could never happen, any sense of order was utterly destroyed. No reason could possibly exist to take her sister away. Order could not exist in any capacity. Either that or the gods had cursed her. Chaos reigned in Kay’s life and had for almost 5 years. She believed no planning or preparation could ever overcome the chaos that moved through time and space. Chaos was the thing that gave energy to everything, and especially to her. Believing that you had any control was not only the ultimate folly, but also a recipe for disaster. That belief gave rise to expectation, anticipation and hope. More foolish emotions could not exist inside a person. She reconciled in herself to inform Aemusul just that.
Fiory was dressing down the horses used for the carriage when Kay arrived back at the stable. “I’ll do it, Fiory. You take the night off.” Fiory handed Kay the brush and turned away. “Thanks for earlier.”
“Ok,” replied Fiory and continued walking. Kay finished the job and had washed up within an hour. The patrons from both taverns had spilled onto the streets and Ambrosia was leading them in tavern songs. The stables, sitting at the end of the cobblestone road 500 feet from its beginning at the top of the hill, afforded a view of the entire street. Sivis the Lamplighter was hard at work and pools of yellow light illuminated the revellers. Kay could discern Onekei standing next to the stool on which Ambrosia stood in the centre of the street, her tankard keeping time with the music and her full-throated voice soaring in harmony above all others. Kay wandered up the street, admitting to herself that she was intrigued by this dwarf. Kay opened her senses to the wind as she walked, again identifying channels of movement within it and this time discerning isolated sounds within each channel. On one such channel she could hear upper register of Ambrosia’s loot. Kay turned her ear to that channel and followed it, moving to keep it flowing directly into her ear. It almost flew too high and beyond her reach, but on tip-toes Kay managed to stay with it. Having followed it for a minute, standing amidst the crowd looking on, Kay strightened her head and opened her ears to all sound once more. She found herself smiling.
Onekei was dancing, her tankard in one hand and any partner willing to risk life and limb in the other. A dangerous display of twirling, spinning and throwing was at hand and the crowd was captivated. Ambrosia was demonstrating far more skill than she ever had previously and Kay wondered why she had never before played with such finesse. Soon Onekei had exhausted every available partner, most of them gasping for air and she looked to an increasingly reticent crowd for more candidates. Kay found her feet moving forward, propelling her into Onekei’s path as she spun on the cobblestones. Grasping the dwarves hands tightly, Kay matched the dwarves ferocity. Perhaps half Onekei’s weight, Kay used the dwarf as a fulcrum, leveraging off Onekei’s muscled arms. Kay performed a series of dizzying spins above Onekei’s head, each time bouncing of the cobblestone and into another. Kay found she could jump off the dwarve’s arms so strong were they and performed repeated backward somersaults and forward dives over her companion, each time landing lightly on her feet. They crowd was mesmerised.
Ambrosia picked the pace up a notch. Onekei grasped Kay’s wrist in a frightening clasp, locking them tight. “Hold on.” Onekei began spinning on the spot, hurtling faster and faster around a point on a large cobblestone. Her steel shoes made deep grooves in the rock as she gained speed. Kay bounced around as fast as she could but soon lost her feet. Instead of hitting the ground however, her velocity was such that she was lifted into the air horizontally. Kay’s wrists felt like they would tear free. Her head drained of all blood as the incredible spin intensified. Faster and fatser she spun, her eyes watering and her shoulders straining to remain intact. Kay looked at Onekei and saw the dwarf was looking at her. The dwarf was older than Kay had first guessed and her eyes spoke of mischevousness. That was it, thought Kay. I have no fun. Onekei winked at Kay as she slowed and brought Kay to a stop. The crowd was in full song at their display, many patrons slapping Kay and Onekei on the back as they passed. Kay caught Ambrosia’s eye for an instant and nodded to her. Ambrosia smiled and kept playing.
The music faded as Kay walked back down the street toward Aemusul’s shop. A door alongside the shop took Kay up some stairs and she found Aemusul waiting for her at the top. “Come in, Kay.” Aemusul walked inside and sat down on some cushions near B`rel in front of the fire. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked B`rel to come too.”
“Hi, B`rel,” Kay said to the dwarf, sitting across from them on the other right side of the fireplace. B`rel stoked the fire a little and then sat back, relaxing into her cushion.
“Kay,” began B`rel, “you know we are different, no? You know Aemusul and I, we are with dweomer, no?”
“We think you are too, Kay,” continued Aemusul. “We think you have the Wild Dweomer within you. Many do, just as many have the Divine, Arcane and Poetic Dweomer. But most do not recognise it, and fewer still do anything about it.”
“What are you two talking about?” asked Kay viciously.
“Your episode today on the street, arguing with me, it was the 12th time this season. That’s about one episode a week. I don’t think you have any power to control them any more than I believe you have any memory of them afterward.” Aemusul looked at B`rel.
“Kay, Aemusul and I are in agreement. We worry you waste your life. No, worse. You end your life. We worry you will do this, no?” Kay stared at the dwarf incredulously.
“Who told you!” she shrieked. “The horses?” Aemusul and B`rel both smiled at that before Aemusul continued.
“Horses don’t speak, Kay. At least, not to me. Now I can lay claim to discussion with plants, but with beasts, no. I have the Wild Dweomer, Kay. I work with plants and can make medicines, magical staves, potions and the like.”
“And I,” announced B`rel, “I be Arcane Dweomer capable. I use on shoe for protection. No, not speed. Be cheat in race if I did, no? Protect from water, protect from fire, protect from lightning.”
“Kay, why did you blame the horses for revealing your suicidal tendencies?” Aemusul inquired.
“They saw me try. I let them decide to let me fall or not. I saw them thinking about it.”
“It’s possible you’ve taken that a step further and assumed they would spill the beans on you,” Amusul said. “The horses do talk to you, in their own way. And so do other things I’m willing to bet.”
“The wind does,” said Kay. “And the water.”
“Look into the fire, Kay,” instructed Aemusul. “Can you talk with the flame?”
Kay, fascinated by the proposition that she might be able to, stared into the fire. “Make flame do something, Kay,” said B`rel. Kay saw within the fire a series of warping cylinders, isolating one of the tendrils of flame. She extended the tendril and changed its direction, forcing it to leap out of the fireplace. It looped and danced for a brief instant as it flashed away from the fire, rising towards the ceiling and then disipated into nothingness.
“You don’t have to do this, Kay. But you may find a study of the Wild Dweomer….diverting,” said Aemusul.
“Better than kill yourself, no?” B`rel added with a nod.
Kay left Aemusul’s with B`rel and walked the old dwarf back to her shop in the dark. She said nothing and B`rel respected her wish for silence. Silence had become something of a way of life for Kay. B`rel waved and entered her home, a very small stone hut behind her shoe shop. Kay saw B`rel’s husband waiting inside, reading in the candlelight, who smiled at B`rel and stood to greet her. Kay wandered home, head down, weighing up the situation as best she could. She could study the Wild Dweomer for clearly she had the talent, she rationalised. She could stay in town while she studied and be instructed by Aemusul. She might forget the whole business and simply tend to her horses and continue as she had done for the last 5 years. She might….she stopped suddenly, aware that she was staring at a pair of metal boots. Looking up, Kay looked into the smiling face of Onekei.
“I do like a late night walk,” Onekei offerred.
“I’m just heading home,” replied Kay hastily.
“I’ve just left my home and have no intention of returning for some time. I will miss my home but I’ve much yet I wish to see and learn.”
“I’m not like you.”
“I should hope not. I drink too much and refuse to marry. Plus I’m never home for more than short spells, happier to be wandering.” Onekei eyed Kay closely. “I’m no great judge of people, but I’d never have picked you for a stay-at-home woman. Look at you. You’re an athlete, a dancer, a warrior and from what people say the finest horse trainer in the Duchy. Maybe I’m wrong.”
“I have the Wild Dweomer,” said Kay quietly.
“And I the Divine. Kharobious is my god and she gives me many powers. Let me show you.” Onekei’s eyes narrowed and ancient words tumbled from her tongue. Her hands traced imagined glyphs and then a faint red light shimmered around Kay, encasing her entirely, outlining her form in the night. It lasted but an instant, but the effects were still very much apparent. “I have given you courage, Kay. For the next three minutes you shall remain as if the hordes of Hell held no fear for you. I leave you to your thoughts.” Onekei bowed slightly and headed for The Windward Inn.
Kay stood still as if rooted to the earth. She felt the core of her being radiate with warmth and knew, utterly and without doubt, that she knew precisely who she was. Layers of doubt fell away built from years of sadness and regret and there she stood, alive and strong in the world. She raised her eyes to the stars and allowed herself to feel herself again. Her old self. Time passed and the feeling departed, leaving Kay cold and alone once more. But perhaps a memory lingered she told herself, maybe a little optimistically. Tired and uncertain, she walked home and went to bed. The Long Dark was nigh.
Sunrise the next morning, an hour before midday, was welcomed by the entire community gathered together on Hoathsley Common which adjoined the main road of Yanchep, sloping down the hill to the west. The sun appeared on the west horizon and Yanchep Elder Aemusul recited from the ancient scroll the gnome held in her hands.
“We free peoples, united in Yanchep, give thanks for our fortune and proclaim that we will keep watch and remain vigilant during the Long Dark. We commend ourselves to your benevolence, Gods of Cruix Tor.”
Eveyone bowed their heads towards the sun and for the next minute there was no sound but that of the birds, welcoming the morning. A halfling cleric of Taor raised her voice in a chant from the Old Tongue and the community dispersed until the cleric stood alone, continuing with her chant. Ritual required she would chant until sundown, three hours away. Kay stood with her head still bowed. Fiory decided to begin her duties for the day and quietly left Kay’s side.
Muscles bunched in Kay’s shoulders and she forcibly slower her breathing to relax. Ambrosia’s ballad came into her head and the whirlpool of her thought seemed to recede. The tune slowly eased the tension from her shoulders and she looked up, opening her eyes. Cruix Tor lay before her bathed in the light of the morning sun, shimmering in the mist in the valley west of Yanchep. Lake Elanei glistened in the distance hundreds of feet below from the base of the valley and Kay wished she were there, swimming with her sister as she once had. She felt bile rising in her throat and quickly swallowed to suppress it. Her fear, she rationalized, existed only because she was lonely. She had never faced a Long Dark without her sister.
The first day of Long Dark ended abruptly, no one really being prepared for its brevity. The sun never quite felt high enough in the sky to the townsfolk. Its low arc in the western sky seemed an affront to nature, a warped display of its unbalance. Little more than three hours since sunrise had passed when the chanting of the cleric of Taormina stopped and she withdrew to her temple to recover, exhausted from her first day’s vigil.
Kay felt better with the coming of dark. The daylight had been too brief to bring real comfort. She had run the horses throughout the day, two at a time for an hour each. She hadn’t rested between runs, happy to exhaust herself. It kept her mind off other things. Now the horses ate and would soon endure the Long Dark with everyone else. Kay wondered for whom it was more difficult. A horse stumbling in the dark tended to be a lot more life-threatening. The dwarves, along with Onekei, had departed after the morning ritual. Onekei’s spell lingered annoyingly in Kay’s memory. She decided to not waste the opportunity it presented to feel annoyed. She drew her fire stick from the coals in the fireplace in her loft and lit her lantern. She hung it from her belt and scaled down the ladder, taking the lantern in her hand again. A few townsfolk wandered, some smiling at Kay, some too rushed to notice. The star-scape above Cruix Tor was bright without the moon and Kay saw a figure on Hoathsley Common gazing up into the night. She waited some 50 paces behind the figure, not wishing to disturb their reverie.
Ambrosia had hoped the stars of the southern sky would become more familiar to her over time, but the north stars of home were too firmly fixed in her head. She gazed at the stars regardless, patiently awaiting a feeling of familiarity. The elf detected footsteps on the road behind her but did not turn. The footfalls were consistent with that of an athletic young woman. “These stars are not mine,” she called out, keeping her gaze skyward. Kay walked to stand beside Ambrosia and titled her head to stare at the night.
“Nor mine,” said Kay. “Ambrosia, will you leave Yanchep with me? I cannot endure the Long Dark without my sister and I’ve decided to travel north. I leave tomorrow.” Ambrosia now turned to face the red-haired, wiry young woman.
“And I was just getting to like this Long Dark of yours.”
“You’ve traveled north before. Indeed, the far north is where you are from, so I understand. Does the Long Dark hold sway there?” asked Kay.
“No. My clime is more temperate and the days are as long as nights, year in, year out.”
“No more Long Dark. And warmer weather.”
“Mosquitos,” Ambrosia added.
“Will you come with me?”
“You shall know my answer when you reach the town gate tomorrow morn. Until then.” Ambrosia slowly turned, allowing her gaze to linger on the stars a moment, then walked away.
The town was awake and had been for hours, but noone was outside. The sounds of morning drifted across Hoathsley Common, stirring Kay into wakefulness. Unwilling to reveal her plan to Fiory, Kay had willed herself to sleep outside, figuring it was something she’d need to get used to anyway. She was fully prepared to leave, having readied everything the night before. Her backpack was in the loft. She stretched as she walked to the stable, sorting errant kinks out of her shoulders. Fiory stood at the door to the main barn, Kay’s pack resting between her feet.
“I suspect I’ll miss you.” Fiory was generally as dispassionate as humanly possible.
“Thanks. You’re ready to run the horses now. All the paperwork is under my bunk.” Kay paused briefly. “I can’t make it through another Long Dark.” Fiory grabbed the pack and hefted it at Kay.
“I don’t suspect you’ll let me come?” Fiory asked, a little winsomely.
Kay shouldered her pack. “No. I’m 23 and will probably die 10 miles from town. You’re 14 and noone else can look after the horses.” Kay turned and headed toward the gate.
“Let her go, Kay. She would have let you go by now,” shouted Fiory, loud enough for their neighbours to hear her frustration. Kay trudged on.
Ambrosia’s absence at the gate was no surprise, although Kay felt a twinge of frustration regardless. 10 miles was probably a little optimistic now, she mused. From the shadows of the gate walls B`rel emerged, a bundle of leathers in her hands. “You go, good. But you take, no?” She thrust the bundle into Kay’s arms and hurried down the street. Kay looked at the bundle and untied the leather bonding. She recognized the leather for it was the same leather used to make the shoes she wore. But this was no pair of shoes, but a supple leather jerkin finely interwoven with metal thread of silver. Kay slipped it over her wollen jerkin and fastened its belt around her waist firmly. Snug, she thought. It wouldn’t stop an arrow, but it might turn a blade.
The sun threatened to break on the west horizon and the village was coming to life. Kay signalled to Wallen who manned the town gate, who smiled at Kay and hoisted away at the turnbuckle. Kay strode through the gate with a wave at Wallen and greeted the sun as it peeked over the horizon with a sudden and violent exhale, sending plumes of mist into the air before her. She bumped herself into a slow hustle, a pace she could maintain for weeks if necessary. And it sure beat walking.
A league from Yanchep, half an hour after dawn, and the countryside opened up. Hills and valleys dominated the landscape while large rock outcrops jutted up from the ground, often towering 50 feet into the air. To the south lay XXXXXXX Bay, a vast ocean of green and white water. Enough natural rock dotted the countyside to give the grey-green grass a patchwork appearance. Trees clumped in thick groups forming natural pathways through forests. The road was a dirt track wide enough for a horse and cart, and like most dirt roads was riddled with potholes and stretches of mud. Kay began enjoying the prospect of travel without end, an eternal journey with an unknown destination. She shrugged off the confines of Yanchep and busrt into a sprint.
From the trees lining the north side of road burst a pack of wild dogs, its leader, a heavyset wardog with an arrow jutting from its blackened right eye, howling its intent. The pack of 15 animals swerved and jumped as a school of fish, sensing their leaders decisions even as he made them. It hadn’t occurred to Kay to bring a weapon of any sort. There was little she believed she couldn’t outrun. Clearly, she thought, it was time to test that theory. With some short quick steps she had tripled her speed and surged to ensure the pack could not cut her off.
It was a close call as the charging parties met, the wild dogs literally snapping at Kay’s heels. Kay cursed her packing skills as the content of her backpack tossed madly with each stride, ruining her concentration. A nip at her calf sent her tumbling into a series of somersaults, crushing the contents of her pack, rendering her prostrate in the middle of the road. The pack tumbled into their prey, rolling and tumbling over each other attempting to get a hold. Kay lay prone, dazed and afraid. She tried to sit up as the pack leader appeared above her, diving for her neck.
Kay could feel two or three dogs taking hold of her legs. Using their weight as leverage, she sharply twisted her frame to the right, but still the pack leader managed to find his mark. Acrid, pungent breath assaulted Kay’s senses and teeth sank into her throat in a savage deathlock. The pain was abrupt and acute, causing Kay to wildly strike out at the beast. Her right hand swung towards the wolfs head, catching the end of the arrow already lodged in its eye. Pain exploded in her hand as the pack leader slumped onto Kay’s chest, its brain punctured. The other dogs did not relent, but her neck was no longer being crushed. Kay drifted towards unconsciousness, a state she assumed in which she would meet death. “Elesime….forgive me,” she whispered as darkness claimed her, finding it fitting that the last sound she heard was of horses galloping.
Kay floated above a campfire which burned well off the road, staring down at her lifeless body. The breeze seemed to carry voices on it. Ambrosia tended the fire, boiling a pot with leaves and herbs. Ambrosia reached over to Kay and Kay’s eyes snapped open, glancing about madly trying to orient herself. “I was floating. I thought I was dead.”
“I’ve seen closer scrapes,” replied Ambrosia dryly. Kay groped at her neck, finding it bandaged. She looked at Ambrosia and held her gaze.
“Thanks.”
“I was late. I had to gather a few things and was late meeting you.” Ambrosia poured a cup of herbal and proferred it to Kay. “I’ve got horses, food for a few weeks, weapons, medicines, a quill and parchment and a change of clothes for us both.”
“I can feel it Ambrosia. I’m in trouble here with my neck.” She looked around to see which of the horses Ambrosia had bought, her fingers tearing up grass and mud as her neck spasmed and burned. She sunk her fingers deep into the ground in panic and closed her fist tight, squeezing the moistened earth out through her fingers. Surprisingly this bought some relief.
“Not moving might be good for now,” said Ambrosia. She helped Kay sip at her mug of herbal and watched as Kay descended into slumber.
“Come Kay. Wake up. We are no longer safe here.” Ambrosia gently lifted Kay into a sitting position. Kay’s eyes opened, colors swirling and images blurring as she gained her feet. It was dark and the fire had been doused. Breaking twigs and muffled grunts could be heard. “Ready? Up!” Ambrosia hoisted Kay onto the back of a horse Kay identified immediately by her smell. Ambrosia glanced about the clearing furtively.
“Chilli,” she murmured, collapsing forward onto the stallion’s neck, clasing a handful of mane. Ambrosia tended to Kay’s stirrups and mounted the mare Argeno.
“Ride!” she cried. Argeno broke into a canter and disappeared in the darkness. “Kay, for the love of Taor. Ride!!” she roared.
Kay looked up, eyes bleary and head pounding. “Chilli,” she whispered, “U`tak”. Chilli had never before born Kay despite having run with her every day for 5 years, but the command was unambiguous. Chilli charged after the mare and Kay clung to her horse for dear life. Receding in the distance she could hear voices, gutteral and foreign, calling loudly into the dark.
The trees looming ahead seemed filled with shapes, silhouetted against the starscape. Kay could hear Argeno galloping ahead and sank her heels deep into the stirrup and sat up in the saddle. Low branches whipped at her face, some drawing blood. The wind cleared her head and eyes focused. Ambrosia was but 10 feet ahead. Dark figures dropped from low branches around them as they entered a dense clump of trees, swinging down towards the riders. Steel glinted in the starlight as blades were swung. Ambrosia crouched in her saddle and hung to her left, evading two converging assailants. To her right Kay heard a blade pass close to her ear, slicing the air in its passage. A sting erupted in her lobe and she felt warm fluid on her shoulder. The horses charged on, knocking down grunting figures without breaking stride. And then they were through the trees.
They galloped through an open plain of knee-high grass for a few minutes and slowed to a walk. The horses breathed mighty plumes of steam from their flared nostrils and the riders exchanged looks of consternation. “The Mokrah Clan, there’s no doubt of it,” stated Ambrosia. “Orcs and bugbears mostly. They stay close to villages and stage road raids. Does Yanchep realise how close they are?”
“Unlikely.” Kay reached out and touched her right ear. Blood flowed freely from the place her lobe had been. Ambrosia dismounted and unbuckled a saddle bag, bringing Kay a small sutured bandage.
“Lean down,” instructed Ambrosia, who deftly clipped the bandage in place, eliciting a wince from Kay.
“I guessed I’d be dead within 10 miles of Yanchep.”
“You may yet be right.”
“My neck is killing me. It feels poisoned.” Kay reached to her now sodden neck bandage and prodded it.
“Churchyard Swamp is probably a mile north of us, the road heading east to Dulanik a mile south,” Ambrosia said. “There are some herbs in the swamp that may be of use to you. I don’t know.”
“Allright. North to the swamp. Going back to Yanchep is out of the question and Dulanic is a three day ride.”
They crested a tree-encrusted hill and the aroma of the swamp consumed them. It’s ripe and exotic stench was subtly underscored by the promise of underlying sweetness. To the west the sun broke over the horizon and the horses trotted down the hill into the mire. Fetid, green scum-pools dotted Churchyard swamp, dead trees littered the sludge. The horses picked a path through the swamp cautiously.
“A temple to a long forgotten god was built nearby hundreds of centuries ago. I went there once as a kid,” Kay began. “I’ve never heard why it was abandoned, or why a swamp formed around it. There was no swamp here when it was built, or at least no map ever one from the map archives.”
“Keep your eye out for a burgundy-colored flower, the Gaetis Bloom. We can crush the petals and use it on your neck,” replied Ambrosia, absently brushing aside some airborn insects.
“I think the problem is going to be in my blood,” said Kay. The dog was diseased and he’s given it to me.”
“I know of no remedy for that.”
Kay scanned the swamp, intrigued by the twisted, distored trees. She found herself rapidly losing her initial discomfort within this place, increasingly fascinated by what gave rise to it. Within her, something yearned to know.
“There!” Ambrosia swept down from Argeno and drew a dagger from her belt. She cut the heads of several Gaetis Blooms, storing them in her pack. A nearby clearing with what appeared to be firm ground provided a place to build a campfire. Ambrosia soon had her pot boiling and was crushing the petals with the hilt of her dagger on a tin plate. Kay stood, staring into the distance. A fog had descended in her mind of swirling green mist. Shapes loomed in her imagination, faces and forms, whispering to her. The mist began twirling around and around, forming a whirlwind of blurred images. Ambrosia’s voice cut through the whirlwind as it had on Hoathsley Common. She sat, holding Kay in her arms, singing to her. Kay’s eyes flickered open and feverishly sought familiarity. Her arms were rigid and she could not move her legs. Her body burned as if her blood were acid.
“You collapsed and you have become paralysed. Your body is completely stiff. I am sorry, Kay. It happened as I applied the petal ointment. It’s my fault.” Ambrosia brushed Kay’s hair from Kay’s face.
“I think I’m dieing, Ambrosia. I can’t feel my muscles. All I feel is fire.”
Ambrosia stared at her companion.
“I’ve been hallucinating since that wolf bit me. I see and hear things now. And especially in the swamp her.” Kay’s teeth were chattering. “D…D…Don’t wait for me to die.”
“I can respect that.” Ambrosia lay Kay on the ground and rose.
“Ambrosia. Let me swim one last time. Pull me into the water and leave. Please.” Ambrosia did not question the request and pulled Kay into a small pool of swamp water. For a moment Kay appeared to float.
“Goodbye, Kay. You die bravely.” And with that, Ambrosia mounted and rode away to the south.
Kay didn’t float for long. Her ears filled with scum and her breathing slowed. Gradually she slipped below the surface, all the while staring up into the cloudless sky. Sinking into the waterhole Kay felt she were falling through infinity. Endless falling. She kept her eyes opened and the murky dimness slowly blocked all light. Falling and falling, she believed she would live forever like this. Warmth suffused her, wrapped around her like a blanket and she smiled in comfort. A hand closed over her mind, its fingers gripping her consciousness firmly, gently crushing her existence. Kay slid into unconsciousness.
“Elesime, my sister. I was so careless and I let you suffer. You should not have died. It was I who should.”
With her back arched so dramatically she could feel the soles of her feet against her head, Kay spun out of control. Her bones felt like oak and her muscles like vines. Sinewy cord rippled beneath her skin and acid flowed through her veins. She snapped upright and everything stopped but for a swirling green mist. “I was dieing.”
“The Wild-dweomer is within you and has given you new life,” the wind whispered to her. “You are reborn of the wild and are Servant of the Matriarch. On this world you walk with her.”
Kay felt she was closing her eyes but found them opening instead. A roaring filled her ears and she sat bolt upright, then sank beneath the surface of the waterhole she was in. Scrambling for the edge and spluttering swamp water, Kay emerged and was overjoyed to see Chilli waiting for her. The horse eyed her closely, then proceeded to kneel before her. “No, Chilli.” She raised the stallion’s head and rubbed her cheek above his eye. “Quickly.” Kay leapt upon Chilli’s back, shook her head vigorously and patted his neck. “Find Argeno.” The horse bolted and Kay shouted her approval.
