Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind

by Licia Troisi

  Nihal learned that Eleusi was very young and that her husband was a soldier. He was fighting in the Land of the Wind and he came back to the house once a year, for a month.

  “Usually they give him leave in the fall and he gets here in time to plow the fields. But sometimes he surprises us and manages to come again in the winter, or the summer. That hasn’t happened much lately, though. You know, the war isn’t going very well.”

  Nihal was astounded. “Don’t you miss him? I mean, aren’t you sorry he’s never here?”

  “Of course I miss him. We argued about it a lot when he decided to leave. But he couldn’t stand it anymore to see injustice all around, and he was tired of seeing his friends leave and not come back. When I’m sad, I remind myself that he’s fighting so that Jona will be able to live in freedom one day. What kind of future would our child have under the Tyrant?” Eleusi paused for a long time. “I’m proud of my husband.”

  Her words struck Nihal. Eleusi’s husband knew what he was doing, and for whom. He had someone to protect. He was fighting for a reason. She felt petty compared to this person she didn’t even know, who had sacrificed a tranquil life for the sake of his wife and son.

  Nihal had a lot of time to think. There was something otherworldly about the warm and cozy atmosphere of the cottage. It gave her a chance to bring order to her thoughts.

  First of all, she resolved once again not to brood over her nightmares. It was difficult, but the rhythms of daily life with Eleusi and Jona helped her. She’d never seen how a real family lived. The simplicity of their interaction and the genuine affection that bound them were novelties for her. She hadn’t experienced anything like it, not even when she’d lived with Livon.

  The flow of time was punctuated by Eleusi’s chores: tidying up, making bread, going to the market, weaving cloth to sell. At night, the woman sat with her son beside the hearth and spoke to him, telling him stories and teaching him things, preparing him for when he went with the other children to learn from the village wise man.

  Is that what a good mother does? Nihal watched Eleusi. She’d never known a woman like her.

  One day, three days after Nihal’s arrival, Eleusi came back from the market with a pair of crutches.

  She entered Nihal’s room triumphantly. “Look what I found! You can get up and walk around in these if you want.”

  Nihal wanted to try them right away. She sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for the crutches, but when she tried to stand, her head began to spin and her heart began to race.

  Eleusi was worried. “Maybe you’re still too weak.”

  Nihal shook her head. “No, no. It’s fine.” She swayed back and forth a couple of times, but managed to stay on her feet.

  She took a couple of tentative steps. The early morning light was all around her. It was the first time in years she’d worn something other than her battle garb. She looked at herself. The nightshirt fell all the way to her ankles. She stood looking at herself, amazed.

  “What’s wrong, Nihal?”

  “Nothing, nothing. It’s just that …” Nihal blushed. “I’ve never seen myself in a skirt before.”

  Eleusi widened her eyes in disbelief. “How old are you?”

  “Almost eighteen,” she muttered.

  “And you’ve never worn women’s clothes?”

  “Well … no.”

  Nihal and Eleusi looked at each other for a moment, and then they burst out laughing.

  Nihal insisted on going out for some fresh air.

  Thick, soft snow still covered the ground. Nihal asked for help putting on her boots. Then she wrapped herself in her cloak and went out. Eleusi and Jona stood watching from the threshold.

  She walked back and forth, crutches sinking into the snow. She was happy, but her legs were shaky. It wasn’t long before she fell facedown in the snow. Cold stung her skin and woke her from the lethargy of convalescence. Nihal pulled herself up to a sitting position and burst into laughter. Jona began laughing, as well, and threw himself upon her, covering her with snow.

  Eleusi smiled. “That’s enough, you two! Jona, get in the house. And Nihal, are you trying to catch a cold?”

  Nihal looked at the clear sky. “We almost never had snow in my land. It’s beautiful.”

  Nihal spent the rest of the day practicing with the crutches.

  Eleusi pleaded with her to take it easy, but Nihal emphatically refused. After such a long time in bed, she could hardly believe she was walking. She felt alive again.

  She managed to convince Eleusi to let her move to the main room of the cottage so that Eleusi could have her bed back. Eleusi filled a big jute sack with straw, then made it up with freshly laundered sheets and two heavy woolen blankets before setting it in front of the fireplace. For an impromptu bed, it certainly was comfortable. Nihal knew right off that she’d sleep well.

  That night, for the first time, she joined her hosts at their table. After supper, she watched Eleusi weaving at the loom.

  Nihal had never seen such a machine. It was enormous and made entirely of wood. There was something surprising about it. Fascinated, she watched the rapid, precise movements Eleusi made as she moved the shuttle back and forth across the warp.

  Later, Eleusi helped her to bed. “You’re a peculiar girl. You’ve never worn a skirt, you don’t know how to weave, you have short hair, and you know how to use a sword. You know, I’d really like to know where you come from. Just out of curiosity.” She smiled a sincere smile at Nihal. “But I completely understand if you don’t feel like talking. Really.”

  Nihal sat on her straw pallet and watched the coals as they gradually burned out. It would be nice to surrender to that tranquility. After all, Eleusi had been so kind to her. It was right for her to know who she’d welcomed into her home. She heaved a deep sigh. “I’m a warrior, Eleusi. I came here from the battlefield on the other side of the mountains. The base, that’s what they call it. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

  “Are you a deserter?” Eleusi whispered.

  Nihal laughed. “A deserter? What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t know. I was wondering why they sent off a wounded warrior without taking care of her.” All of a sudden, Eleusi seemed a bit intimidated by her strange guest.

  “I didn’t desert,” Nihal answered. “My tutor gave me leave and I decided to set off, though I hadn’t yet recovered. That’s all.”

  Eleusi looked relieved. “So, you were on your way to your family when Jona found you.”

  “No,” Nihal responded calmly. “I don’t have a family.”

  There was a moment of silence. Nihal looked Eleusi in the eyes. I have to tell her. I have to.

  “There’s something else you should know.” Nihal gathered up her courage. “I’m a half-elf.”

  Eleusi stared at her for a moment, incredulous. “I thought … that is, I was sure that half-elves didn’t exist. At least, not anymore. They say they’re all …” She stopped, not sure how to continue.

  “Dead.” Nihal was blunt. “They are. All except for one: me. My people were annihilated by the Tyrant. I’m the last half-elf in the Overworld. That’s why I want to leave here as soon as possible, because I don’t want my fate to cause problems for others.”

  Eleusi sensed all of Nihal’s sadness, all her solitude. A part of her said she should let the girl leave, and soon. But another voice inside her said she couldn’t abandon this poor lost girl. “Why don’t you stay here for a while? You can recover properly and keep Jona company. He’s so fond of you, you know? And we’re quite far from the village. If you want, you can hide. No one has to see you.”

  Nihal interrupted her. “No, Eleusi. I think it’s best for me to resume my journey next week.”

  Eleusi nodded, disappointed. She’d grown accustomed to having Nihal around. Now she realized she would be sorry to see her leave. “Where are you going to go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You must have a friend, a loved one—someone w
ho’s waiting for you.”

  “No one’s waiting for me. My plan is to travel. That’s it.”

  This made no sense to Eleusi. “Come now, Nihal! Stay here. Jona and I would be happy to have you with us. And you can help me with my weaving and chop wood. It would be so nice.”

  Nihal smiled. “Thank you, Eleusi, but …”

  Eleusi took Nihal’s hand and pressed it. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

  Nihal pressed back. “I promise.”

  The next day, Eleusi found Nihal sitting near the fireplace. She’d removed the bandages from her leg and was resting a hand on the wound. A weak, pinkish light came from the girl’s open palm.

  “What are you doing?” Eleusi’s voice held a note of alarm.

  Nihal gave a start and pulled her hand from her leg. “Nothing. I was just checking on the wound.” She began to wind the bandages back around it.

  But Eleusi had noticed that the wound was much better. “You’re a sorceress,” she whispered.

  “No, I’m really not. I know a few simple spells. It can be useful for a warrior, so …”

  Nihal became aware of the sudden chill in Eleusi’s manner. Ever since the Tyrant had come to power, sorcerers had become the object of prejudice.

  Eleusi insisted on checking the wound. There was no longer any need for the stitches. As she cut through the thread and pulled it out, she cast furtive glances at Nihal, unsure as to whether or not she should worry about this latest revelation. By the time she’d completed the operation, she seemed to have made up her mind. She looked at Nihal with a smile. “You know what you need? A nice hot bath. I’m going to go get it ready for you now.”

  A hot bath? Nihal had always washed with a bucketful of freezing water.

  Eleusi started bustling around. She went out of the house and came back a little while later with an enormous copper basin, which she pushed into her own room. Then she busied herself at the hearth with a series of brimming pans of water.

  When it was all ready, she dragged Nihal into the bedroom. “Now, now, why that long face? Believe me, you’ll feel like a queen afterward!”

  Nihal took off her clothes before the mirror. When she was a little girl, there’d been a moment when mirrors had sparked great curiosity. She would look at herself and try to understand whether the girl she saw on the other side of the thin silvery layer was really her, and not some sprite trying to trick her.

  She observed herself with the probing gaze of someone who was seeing herself for the first time. She studied the compact muscles in her legs, her flat stomach and strong arms—the fruit of hours of training. She was astonished at how quickly her body had grown. Almost without her knowing it, she’d been transformed into a woman, with curves and what was, perhaps, a slightly too-prosperous bosom, but nicely shaped. She moved closer to see her reflected face. My eyes are too big. But she liked the color, deep and intense. She tried to smile, but there was a note of sadness in the depths of her gaze.

  She stretched out a leg to test the water. It was pleasantly warm. She stepped into the tub and surrendered to the feeling of warmth that slowly surrounded her. Then she put her head under, too. Her blue hair swayed around her face. Maybe this was life.

  Eleusi was astonished by Nihal’s request. “Lend you a dress? Of course. But your things are clean, if you want them.”

  Nihal blushed to the points of her ears. “I’d like to try some women’s clothes.”

  Eleusi flashed an enthusiastic smile. “Of course! A dress!”

  She took one of her best dresses from the trunk, the one she wore when she went with her husband to village festivals. Then she helped Nihal put it on. On her own, Nihal would not even have managed to lace up the corset. The uniform she’d worn until then was much simpler—all she had to do was position the leather bodice and lace up the sides of the pants and she was done. Eleusi’s dress had a corset, a slip, a skirt, and a pinafore. It felt like there was no end to the stuff she had to put on.

  Nihal felt strange looking in the mirror. She didn’t know whether she liked what she saw or not.

  “So?” Eleusi asked, satisfied.

  “My legs are kind of cold. And this skirt is so heavy! I can barely move!”

  Eleusi burst out laughing. “It’s just habit, Nihal. You get used to it.”

  Nihal wanted to play with Jona.

  They sat on the bench outside the house with their backs against the wall and enjoyed the pale winter sunshine. Nihal showed him a few little magic tricks she’d learned as a girl. She created some colored rays of light, lit a dry branch with a snap of her fingers, and, as a grand finale, created a sphere of light, which she held in the palm of her hand and passed to the child.

  “Oh, it’s so beautiful! It’s so beautiful,” he kept saying, beside himself with joy.

  As she played with Jona, Nihal felt an aching longing for Sennar. He would tease her so much if he could see her now, dressed as a girl, playing with a child. But he’d have been happy. She prayed with all her heart for him to come back safe and sound. Now that he was completely out of touch, she realized how much she missed him.

  That night, after Jona went to bed, Nihal and Eleusi sat together by the fire, Nihal on the floor looking at the flames, Eleusi on the rocking chair, sewing.

  Eleusi broke the silence. “Have you decided what to do?”

  “Yes,” Nihal said. She smoothed the folds of her dress, caressing the soft material, so light compared to her leather uniform.

  “And?” asked Eleusi, hesitant.

  “I’ll stay for a while.”

  Eleusi set down her embroidery with a smile and hugged Nihal close.

  22

  FAREWELL

  Thanks to Eleusi’s ministrations and her own healing spells, Nihal recovered quickly. She tried to make herself useful right away. A hard winter was settling in and she didn’t want to be a burden. She insisted that Eleusi find her some chores, but she soon realized she didn’t know how to do anything.

  Eleusi decided to teach her to knead bread.

  “You’ll do it yourself. I’ll just tell you what to do,” she said, and set the ingredients on the table.

  It was an utter disaster. Nihal managed to cover herself with flour and spill a pitcher of water on the ground. The bread was lumpy and failed to rise properly.

  Eleusi convinced her to put it in the oven all the same. The result was a hard flat loaf that tasted disgustingly of yeast, but it had been great fun to make it. The two women were good companions. Nihal was getting a taste of the normality she’d never known, and Eleusi was no longer alone.

  One morning, they decided to go to the market together, Nihal, Eleusi, and Jona. Nihal insisted on disguising herself. She borrowed a shawl and wrapped it around her head so that not even a lock of hair was visible. She pulled it tight to hide her ears from view. Then she looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad, Nihal. Not bad. Since the day of her bath, she’d come to enjoy studying herself in the mirror. She found that she frequently peered at herself in an attempt to determine just how feminine the clothes made her look.

  The little party set out through the snow. Jona was excited. For him, market day was always a reason to celebrate, even though commerce had been severely limited since the start of the war.

  “When I was a little girl,” Eleusi said, “the market was really wonderful. There were merchants from other lands and the air of the village filled with the smell of spices. Even in winter there was a world of goods to choose from: cloth, fruit, vegetables, little animals in cages. I’m sorry you only get to see it now.” She sighed.

  Nihal didn’t answer. Tense, she moved forward with bowed head.

  “What’s wrong?” her friend asked.

  “No, nothing. Maybe it would have been better for me to stay home.”

  Eleusi tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry. Have fun! No one will notice you.”

  For a while, they walked in silence. After some time, Nihal heard muffled laughter behind her
and turned. Eleusi quickly assumed a serious expression, but the shadow of a smile played on her red lips. Nihal looked questioningly at her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that … you really do walk like a man.”

  Nihal stopped. “In what way?”

  “Well, you’re practically marching, for starters.”

  Nihal did not take this well. “Everyone walks like that in the army.”

  “Of course. I’m not criticizing you. It’s just funny.”

  Nihal let the others walk ahead of her. She studied how Eleusi walked. She didn’t see anything different. What was she supposed to be doing?

  “Eleusi! Wait! Can you explain? What’s so funny about how I walk?”

  “You move so assertively and take such big steps. And your hips don’t sway one bit. Didn’t your mother tell you that’s what boys like?”

  Nihal’s face darkened. “I never knew my mother. I was raised by an armorer.”

  Eleusi silently chastised herself and resumed walking.

  Nihal panicked when they got to the village.

  There were people everywhere. Her head was spinning. It felt like she was in Salazar back when chaos reigned over the tower and it was filled with the echoes of voices, shouts, and laughter. A wave of homesickness suddenly washed over her. In that anonymous crowd it was as if she were seeing the faces of her own city—neighbors, the kids she played with as a child, shopkeepers. She almost thought she saw Sennar, his tunic flapping about him, his cheek still unscathed. She closed her eyes to block out the din.

  “Why don’t you two go for a walk while I sell my cloth? We can meet at my stall in an hour. It’s at the end of the street.” Eleusi handed Nihal some money in case they saw something they wanted to buy. “Nihal, don’t lose sight of Jona!”

  Nihal followed instructions, clutching Jona’s hand.

  Jona tugged at her arm. “Come on, let’s go get some sweets. Huh? What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. What would your mother say?”