by Matt Heppe
But this was different—it was eerily beautiful. Every rock, tree, and even the water plants at the edge of the pond conveyed pristine serenity.
The last slanting rays of sunlight shone upon the top of the rock outcropping. She saw a flash of white at its summit. The waterfall emerged from the peak of the rocks, and unlike most springs, it flowed with the urgency of a small stream. Where was the water coming from? The rocks were not a part of a cliff face. They simply emerged from the forest floor. Hadde shivered with a sudden chill as the breeze picked up.
She thought for a moment of riding home, but decided better of it. It would be a cold and hungry night, but at least she could build a fire and dry out. She wished she had picked up the two hunting packs. They would have made the night easy. Riding through the night, chilled and wet, she risked illness. With the Wasting, even a cold could mean death.
“You’re tired too, Lightfoot. It was a long chase.” Hadde tended to her mount as best she could. Some grain remained in her feedbag. Hadde took off the horse’s light saddle and bridle and rubbed her down with her saddle blanket. When she finished, she draped Lightfoot’s blanket across her back. The horse happily munched a patch of everbloom.
Hadde opened her belt pouch and took out her fire kit. She cursed as she unwrapped the oiled leather. It was soaked. The pouch could withstand a rainstorm, but not immersion in a pond. Her charcloth and tinder were ruined. She strode to a birch tree and stripped some of the thin bark. Hadde took it and some kindling to her campsite by the pool. Her flint and steel were damp, but still sparked.
Hadde cleared a place in the leaves and prepared the bark and kindling. She struck sparks into the pile of bark until she was short of breath and sweating. The bark wouldn’t catch. She rearranged the pile and tried again. It wasn’t working. She cursed under her breath and wished she were on her way home. The sky had grown dark. Lightfoot snorted and pawed the ground. Hadde glanced over her shoulder. The horse looked at her with what could only be described as reproach. “I’m usually good at this. Now I’m in for a miserable night.”
Hadde turned at a crackling noise to see a small flame growing in the pile of bark. She hadn’t seen a spark catch, but it must have. She smiled at her great luck. “Or was it skill, Lightfoot?” She added kindling to the flames. They too caught fire and soon the fire burned well enough to resist even a strong gust of wind.
Once certain of her fire, Hadde gathered a pile of dry wood for the night. “We’ll be all right,” she said to Lightfoot as she brought a final load in. “Except for an empty stomach. But I’ve been hungry before. At least you have the everbloom.” Hadde harvested armloads of fern for a bed and piled them near the fire. She propped some sturdy sticks in the ground and made a small frame to hang her clothes on to dry. She stripped off her tunic and leggings and placed them on the frame and propped her cloak up as a windbreak.
The cold wind cut through her wet linen shirt, but it was all she had between her and the elements. The linen would dry quickly enough. She kept her hair in its long braid, as she had no comb or cloth to dry it with if she were to undo it. Before lying down on her bed of ferns, she unstrung her bow and put the string on the rack to dry as well.
Ignoring her hunger, she lay down. The fire burned well, the orange light flickering off of the surrounding trees. Embers cracked and floated into the sky. She thought of the silver-eyes. Could they be near? Would the fire bring them to her?
She glanced into the darkness. Her fire was invisible to anyone more than a stone’s throw away. And the smoke rose nearly straight up. No one would smell it. She hoped. Regretting her decision to stay, Hadde moved as close to the fire as she could bear. It would be a fitful night of waking to put more wood on the fire and rotating as first one side of her body and then the other became cold.
She looked up into the sky. Stars shone in the crisp air. She was close enough to the pond that the forest canopy didn’t obstruct her view. Only the steep slope of the rocky outcropping blocked part of the night sky. Bright white light peeked over the top of the hill. The moon must be rising.
It took a moment to realize her error.
The wrong part of the sky, she thought. She sat up, keeping her eyes on the top of the outcropping. She shivered as a cold breeze blew through the camp and threw a few more sticks on the fire. She didn’t want to leave its warmth, but her curiosity was too strong.
Hadde walked to the base of the hill. The breeze calmed and the bite had gone out of the air. Leaving the fire wasn’t as bad as she had expected. She started up the slope. As she climbed higher the falling water to her right took on a musical quality. The everbloom growing amongst the rocks scented the air with a beautiful honey fragrance. She paused and plucked one of the blossoms. The flower glowed in the starlight, and when she put it to her nose the scent took her breath away. Sudden warmth coursed through her. Before she could catch herself she giggled.
The flower smelled like hope.
She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. What’s going on? The thought flitted through her mind and disappeared. Glancing up the hill, she again saw the flash of light.
Unable to stop herself, she scampered to the top of the hill. The peak, about five strides across, was shaped like a bowl. Water gushed from the bottom of the bowl in a fountain and filled a small pool before flowing through a gap in the rocks to the pond below. Moss-covered stones and innumerable white flowers surrounded her.
In the center of the fountain stood a flat-topped table of stone. Water flowed smoothly over its surface before falling into the pool at the hill’s peak. A golden chain lay at the center of the stone.
Hadde caught her breath. She had seen gold only once, a worn coin Father brought back to the village years before. Landomeri had little use for the trinket, but they had still been curious. It was the rarity, the exotic nature of it, that got their attention. They had all heard stories about the riches of distant lords and kings.
Hadde knelt at the pool’s edge and took a closer look at the chain. In the starlight she could see that the chain held a pendant, but she couldn’t make out any details. She reached for the chain but drew back, glancing around as if someone was watching. She laughed at her own foolishness.
Did the chain belong to someone? Who had left it in such an unusual place? She extended her hand and took the chain from the stone. The heavy links were as wide as her finger. The pendant filled her palm. She drew it close and starlight flashed across the pendant’s face. There she saw a wavy-rayed Orb. Hadde knew what it was at once—the sun-symbol of the goddess Helna.
Hadde frowned. How long had it been there? Was it lost? Or was it a gift from Helna?
The older villagers gave the gods respect, but Hadde had never been devout. Why thank the gods? They were banished long ago. The gods did nothing for the Landomeri and there was no reason to give thanks. What help had they provided against the Wasting?
Hadde hefted the chain. It was probably worth a fortune. “Well, Helna, maybe now I’ve some reason to give thanks. Your chain will save my village from great want.”
***
Hadde sat down at the table in her family’s cottage, a mug of bark tea cupped in her hands. “Tell us your story,” Enna said as she and Arno sat down at the heavy oak table.
“Yes, what has your tail on fire?” Arno asked. “We were worried to death about you.”
Hadde dug her spoon into a small bowl of split pea soup. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it. I was hunting a very large stag, twelve points, I think.” Arno laughed and she glared at him. “It was ten points or more!”
“Yes, dear,” he laughed again. “Do go on.”
Between mouthfuls, Hadde told them her story. As she finished she opened her collar and pulled the golden chain over her head. Her parents gasped as she laid it on the table. “It’s beautiful,” Enna said. “It was just lying there?”
Hadde nodded. “It was so strange. After I found it I went down to my little fire and before I knew it
, I was asleep. I slept through the night and never once awoke to put more wood on the fire. I woke well after light had come, but the fire was still blazing.”
“Sounds like magic to me,” Arno said in a serious tone. He picked up the chain and stared at the medallion.
“Really?”
“Ooooh,” he said in a high-pitched voice. “And then the spiridus fairies came out and made a bonfire and had a feast and we made love the entire night.”
“Arno, be nice to her.” Enna said as Arno laughed. “Something really special has happened. You cannot ignore this necklace.”
The door flew open and Belor barged into the room. “Hadde,” he said, out of breath, “are you hurt?”
Arno glared at the younger man. "Did you pledge yourself to Hadde while you were out hunting?” he snapped. “No? Then you're not part of the family yet! Try knocking."
“Arno! Stop it,” Enna said.
Belor looked down at his feet. “I apologize. I was just worried for Hadde."
“But not worried enough to pledge yourself to her…” Arno winked at his wife.
Enna laughed. “Come in, Belor. Arno’s just harassing you. See what Hadde found.”
“Helna’s light,” Belor said. He strode up to the table and stared at the chain in Hadde’s father’s hands. “You found it?”
“Yes, in an un-wasted part of the forest. A beautiful place.”
“It’s magic,” he declared. “Landomere called you to that place.”
Hadde sighed as her father snorted. “It’s probably been there for ages,” Arno said.
“It couldn’t have been,” Belor said. His face was full of enthusiasm as he looked from the pendant to Hadde. “Elder Themon would say—”
“Oh, no,” Arno said. “You spend too much time listening to the elder’s stories.” He waved Belor silent and turned to Hadde. “What do you want to do with it?”
“We could trade it, couldn’t we?” Hadde asked. “If it’s valuable enough it could feed the village for some time.”
“There’s not been a tinker or trader in this area for many years,” Enna said. “And no Landomeri would have any use for it.”
“You would have to take it to the border of the South Teren,” Arno said, placing the chain in front of her. “To a large Landomeri village there or even to a Saladoran town.”
“Would the trek be worth it?” Hadde asked.
He shrugged. “The Saladorans value gold greatly. But if things are as bad everywhere else as they are here, food will be expensive. If you do go, you should break the chain and trade it one link at a time. Wealth like this could be dangerous. Saladorans will do evil things for this much gold. I’ve dealt with them before.”
“You can’t do that,” Belor said. “It’s a gift from Landomere. A sign. How long have we been cursed with the Wasting? Twenty years?”
“Longer. Much longer,” Arno said. “But that’s when it got worse. I remember. Hadde was just a baby when it struck in force.”
“And even with the raiders’ horses we captured, how much longer can we survive?”
Hadde’s father shook his head. “We can survive this winter.”
“What are you getting at, Belor?” Enna asked as she picked up the chain.
“There used to be magic in Landomere. Before the veden came and slew the spiridus,” Belor said.
“Of course,” Arno replied. “But that was five hundred years ago. The Spirit of Landomere died with the spiridus. She couldn’t live without them.”
Hadde watched the exchange. There was something infectious about Belor’s excitement. She found herself leaning forward as she listened to him.
“But there were also human elementars, weren’t there?” Belor asked. “Like Handrin the Great. He came to Landomere and slew the veden.”
“There are no more elementars,” Hadde said. “Handrin was the last.”
“How do you know? Hmm?” He stared at her with brows raised.
She stared right back at him. “The legends don’t mention any others. I’ve listened to Elder Themon’s stories too. Handrin was the only elementar to survive the War for the Orb. And Akinos murdered him and stole the Orb. There were no elementars after him.”
“Maybe his children grew up to be elementars, and we don’t know of them because they never came to Landomere. Maybe there is someone out there who could save us from the Wasting.” He ticked the facts off on his fingers. “And not just save us for weeks or months, but forever. This chain is a sign. It will lead us to help!”
“But… I don’t know…” Hadde tailed off. “How can a necklace lead us to help?”
Belor smacked the table. “I don't know. But I can’t stand by and do nothing as the Wasting takes us all. I have to do something.”
“There’s no more magic, Belor.” Arno’s voice was final.
“I’m not sure the magic is all gone,” Hadde said quietly. “When I found the chain, well, it wasn’t natural.”
“You see!” Belor said.
“I don’t,” Arno said. “You would run off on a fool’s errand to find an elementar to save us all? The kings of Salador lived in the city of Sal-Oras, not on the border. You would waste a month or more on a journey that has no hope of success.”
“So we just give up?” Belor asked.
“No! We sell the necklace. We live and fight and do the best we can a little longer.”
“Our best isn’t enough, Father,” Hadde said. “The Wasting will take us.”
Arno’s normal gruff happiness faded from his face and his age showed in his sad expression. “Don’t get your hopes up about any elementar or magical salvation from the Wasting. There isn’t one.”
“I’m not saying I believe all that Belor does. But I know that we must try.” Hadde glanced at Belor and then at her father. “I don’t think we’ll find an elementar, but at least I could go to Salador and sell the chain. It will sell there as well as anywhere. The supplies it will purchase will keep us going a little longer.”
Enna gently placed the necklace on the table in front of Hadde. “I know you and your father aren't convinced, but I believe Helna is still with us. The Great Spirit will live again.” She traced the pendant with her finger as she spoke. “This is a message—a message to you, Hadde. You must seek aid.”
Belor smiled his agreement. “All the way to Sal-Oras.”
“No,” Enna said. She lifted her hand from the pendant and touched Hadde’s cheek. “You should go to the Saladoran border and sell the chain there—no further. We... I need you here.” Enna took Hadde’s hand in her own. “You’re our protector. The necklace is a sign, not an invitation to folly.”
Arno exchanged a look with his wife and nodded slowly.
“I have to do more for the village, Mother. I’m a huntress, but soon there will be nothing left to hunt. And maybe, just maybe, Belor is right and we’ll find an answer to the Wasting in Sal-Oras.”
“But what of the silver-eyed raiders?” Enna asked. “What if they return?”
“The village is warned. It won’t be caught at unawares. Two bows won’t make a great difference.” Hadde took the golden chain and put it on.
“It made a difference to me... before.” Enna’s voice was quiet.
There were tears on her mother’s cheeks. Hadde brushed them away with her thumb. “The Wasting is winning, Mother. It’s killing us and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m supposed to protect and provide for the village, but I’m failing. I have to do something that will make a difference. Killing a skinny boar will feed us for a few days, but what if there is something greater I can do?”
“It’s hard enough when you go hunting for weeks at a time.” More tears fell from Enna’s eyes. “You’re my only child.”
“I’ll only go as far as I have to,” Hadde said. She wiped her mother’s tears away as best she could. It was hard for Hadde to fight off her own tears. “But if there’s hope… if there’s any chance an elementar still rules in Salador, I must go farthe
r. I’ll go to Sal-Oras.”
Belor smiled at her. “We’ll go to Sal-Oras,” he said. “And we’ll find you an elementar-king.”
Chapter Four
Hadde and Arno walked through the misty morning light toward the smithy. Smoke rose from less than half the village’s chimneys. The remaining cottages stood empty and dark. The thatched roofs on more than one home had collapsed.
“It gets worse and worse,” Arno said. “These cottages were all filled after we moved here from Forest's Edge. It hasn’t been that long.”
“I remember," Hadde said. "It’s too quiet now.” They passed the smithy's cold furnace and entered the workspace. Two lanterns barely lit the room. Belor had already arrived. He wore a red Kiremi aketon. A mail coif covered his head. To Hadde he looked striking and proud. Next to him, uncle Segreg checked the fit of the armor.
“Hello, Hadde,” Segreg said. He gave her a hug. He turned to Arno and clasped forearms with him. “Brother.”
“Did you find anything that will fit Hadde?” Arno asked.
“I did.” He motioned her toward a table. “What would you think of a mail shirt?”
“A mail shirt?" She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of wearing one. "I’ve never seen one up close.”
“There it is. One of the raiders wore it under his aketon. It’s a little worse for wear, but I’ve fixed it up some.”
Hadde nodded appreciatively as she ran her hand over the armor. She had only ever seen mail from a distance. The armor was tarnished, and a rent had been wired together, but it still looked magnificent and foreign.
“Put this on first,” Segreg said, holding up a padded aketon. “Linen boiled in wax, seven layers thick, and stuffed with tow.”
Arno helped her pull the thick quilted armor on and then tied the laces tight. She grimaced at the smell of old sweat and mildew. "Ugh, it stinks," she said.