I spent a few minutes searching for a suitable replacement for my lost stick. The new one, a solid club of four feet from end-to-end, wasn’t as long as its predecessor but it was thicker and smoother.
“Do you know how to use that?” asked Esme, looking at me as I tried different grips on my new tool.
“For fighting? Not really. Truth is, I’m not much of a fighter with anything.” Except cutting remarks, and I didn’t suppose those would be useful in these circumstances.
“When we get to Aeris, I’ll teach you a few things. I used a stave before I graduated to a bow and I’m still better with it than a knife.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” said Samell. “She’s better than most in the village with a knife. In fact, the only weapon she’s not good with is a sword and that’s only because she hasn’t practiced. Give her a few weeks and she’d be standing toe-to-toe with Blademaster Ulas. When it comes to combat, my sister is a natural.”
It was too dark to be sure but I thought Esme was blushing. She was also trying to hide a smile. “The offer stands,” she said. “I’ll teach you how to use that stick if you want. If you’re staying around, that is.”
Would I be staying around? I had no idea. I hadn’t thought beyond getting to Aeris, eating a full meal, sleeping on something softer than the ground, and learning answers to a few questions. I wasn’t prepared to address the “what now?” question. Since I had arrived in this place, everything had been about survival. The mandate hadn’t changed.
We continued to converse - words slipping into the darkness, three disembodied voices breaking a wall of silence. The river was too far away to be heard and the effects of The Verdant Blight extinguished other potential sources of sound - no animals, no insects, no things that went bump in the night. I tried to reach out with my “sixth sense” the way I had prior to the fight but the ability wasn’t there. Even though the headache was nearly gone, it was as if what I had done to destroy the earth reaver had…limited…me in some way. I felt inexplicably diminished. On a more practical level, I couldn’t warn my companions if there was another creature in the area. Without light, we were at our most vulnerable now.
“Tell me something about Aeris,” I asked, partly because I was curious and partly because I wanted to keep the silence at bay.
“What would you like to know?” I could tell from the sound of his voice that Samell had moved closer to me in the darkness.
“Anything, really. I’m a stranger here. All I know about Aeris is from things you’ve said and that hasn’t been much.”
There was a brief pause as Samell considered where to begin. “It’s a small community even compared to the nearest two villages, NewTown and West Fork. I’ve never seen the great cities to the east but they dwarf Aeris in ways I could only imagine. We were founded only a few generations ago as a small outpost to farm and cultivate leaves and plants from The Greenswood and The Verdant Blight. In those years, the magic part of the forest was much smaller and no one had seen an earth reaver. Several families from West Fork came up here and established what would become Aeris.
“In the beginning, there were maybe twenty or thirty settlers. Now, we have three-hundred people. We’re mostly farmers, hunters, and trappers with a few craftsmen. There aren’t any shops - we don’t have enough people for that, although we have a tavern. The village is ruled by a group of elders - all direct descendants of the original settlers - grandsons and granddaughters, mostly. We marry among our own although there are occasional weddings with outsiders. Old Nat married a second cousin from West Fork a while back and brought her to Aeris to live.”
I decided it was pointless to ask about electricity. It was obvious from his description that technology here wasn’t that advanced. Maybe in the cities he had mentioned. Three-hundred souls wasn’t a lot. At five people to a house, that was only 60 houses. Even a small development in my world’s suburbs had twice that many. I wondered what the houses would look like. Images of wooden cabins with wood-burning stoves came to mind. Probably something like that. Still, it would be safer and more comfortable than in the forest.
“How do you spend your days?” I asked.
“Depends on the rotation. I’m a good farmer, so I’m in the fields most days except when I’m on patrol, once every fiveday or sixday. Esme and I are always paired for that. I do a little trapping and hunting but I’m not as good at those things as some others are. That’s where Esme shines. Our younger brother Brin takes after her and she’s giving him lessons.”
“Any other brothers or sisters?”
“No. Just me, Esme, and Brin. When I was younger, after Brin was born, Ma and Pa talked about having more but the gods didn’t bless them.”
Samell’s mention of the “gods” got me thinking about religion. Having been raised in a monotheistic society, although I’d never been much of an adherent to any organized faith, it was strange to hear someone refer to multiple deities. Perhaps the question of import was whether they were real. Ancient cultures in my world had often worshipped gods with complex, colorful mythologies but the nature of their theologies had been debunked over time, replaced by more “sophisticated” creeds. Understanding the beliefs of Samell and his people might be important to my being accepted.
“Which gods do you believe in?” It was impossible to tell in the darkness whether he was surprised by the question and whether my asking it branded me as an ignorant heathen.
“Don’t you honor The Four where you come from?”
My response was carefully worded. Atheism and agnosticism might be accepted where I came from, but here…? I didn’t know and didn’t want to make assumptions. “My people believe in many different gods. They may be the same ones you worship but with different names.”
Samell chuckled. “‘Worship’ may be too strong a term. We venerate the gods but not in any obvious or public way. We acknowledge their primacy and offer the appropriate prayers but only the priests lead truly devout lives. If an intercession is needed, we go to a priest.
“The Four are Sovereign the sun, his two consorts Ire and Concord the moons, and Vasto the void of darkness. If you’re interested in a deeper understanding, you can speak to Father Backus in Aeris. He’ll be more than happy to lecture you for hours on end about the gods, their history, and our obligations to them.” There was a smile in those last words as he spoke them.
“Father Backus is a good man,” added Esme. “But he is so booooooring!”
The darkness passed more quickly with two others to share it. Even when we weren’t talking, just knowing that Samell and Esme were with me, even if it was only by hearing their breathing, made the night less intimidating. Then, after about two hours, the faint light of the first moon’s rising started to bathe the land.
“That’s Ire,” said Esme. “Concord rises later. During the period when they’re both up, the farmers call it ‘moonslight’ and, especially during the planting and harvesting seasons, they work. As long as clouds don’t hide Ire, it’s safe to walk the road.”
We moved carefully. There was enough of the ethereal illumination to ensure that we didn’t blunder into a tree but the road wasn’t smooth and we had to be vigilant not to turn an ankle in a rut. I could tell by the way he was walking that Samell’s injuries were causing him pain. My left sole was on fire. I used the stick to avoid having to place full pressure on it. I sincerely hoped the medication Samell had spoken about would help. At least the headache was gone, although my mind’s sense hadn’t returned. Gone forever? Perhaps. Would that be a bad thing?
Two or three hours later - or what constituted a “cycle” as time was measured here - I saw the first of many squat, ramshackle buildings ahead. We had reached Aeris.
Chapter Five: Aeris
Walking quickly through the benighted streets of Aeris, I was reminded of a ghost town. The houses were all small and crudely made, constructed (as I had assumed they would be) out of logs. Most had a window or two and all of those were dark. There were
no torches on poles or other artificial means to light the way. If there was a reason for reassurance, however, it came in the form of a faint chirping. For the first time since arriving here, I could hear an insect. The Verdant Blight might be nearby but its life-extinguishing influence hadn’t spread this far.
Samell and Esme led me to a cottage on the far side of the village. Unlike most of its carbon-copy fellows, there was a faint illumination coming from inside, peeking out around curtains and through the gap under the door. Samell motioned for me to join him and his sister as they went in. I absently noticed that there was no lock on the door and therefore no need to produce a key.
“Thank Ire and Concord!” exclaimed a woman’s voice as Samell entered. It belonged to one of the three people gathered in the cramped room beyond the threshold. The kinship among Samell, Esme, Brin, and their mother was immediately apparent - all had the same light blond hair and delicate features. Brin looked like a younger version of his brother, having just crossed over to the masculine side of puberty. The father had a darker, more rugged appearance and it took some looking to find evidence of his paternity in the children. I decided they had inherited his nose, if little else.
Expressions of relief turned to surprise as they saw me with concern following in quick succession as they noticed Samell’s injuries. His mother, who scarcely looked old enough to have given birth to someone of his age, ignored me for the moment and rushed over to examine his bandages, now hardened and brown with crusted blood.
“How did this happen? And who’s she?” Samell’s father hadn’t moved from the chair where he was sitting near the unlit fireplace. His eyes, exhibiting unconcealed suspicion, bored into mine. I became self-conscious about my clothing. Aside from Samell’s threadbare shirt, which at least covered me from neck to mid-thigh, and Esme’s moccasins, I was naked. I had grown comfortable about my garments around my companions but embarrassment was asserting itself now that others were seeing me.
Having been reassured that her son wasn’t in imminent danger from his wounds, Samell’s mother regarded me critically. “You look dead on your feet, dear. Sit down. I suspect there’s a tale to tell and it won’t serve anyone if you collapse in the middle of it.”
I smiled wanly and lowered myself to the hard-packed dirt floor. She was right. Even standing took an effort I no longer possessed.
“Janelle, these are my parents, Rikard and Lissa, and my younger brother, Brin.” Samell said by way of introduction. Neither he nor Esme sat. Brin’s eyes were fixed on me as if I was some kind of space alien. I supposed perhaps I was (but without the bulbous head).
Samell summed up the situation as succinctly as possible, with Esme jumping in occasionally when he missed a detail she deemed to be important. I said little, in part because there wasn’t much to add and in part because I was too weak for speech. Rikard, Lissa, and Brin listened attentively. Brin’s eyes lit up with wonder as the story unfolded but it was difficult to ascertain what Rikard and Lissa were thinking.
When Samell was done, the first thing Lissa did was turn to her daughter. “Supper’s gone but you know where the vittles are. Get some for yourself and your brother and a double helping for Janelle. She looks like she’s starving. Brin,” she added, “Run to the healer’s and tell him your brother has come back with an injury that needs immediate tending.”
Without a word, Brin dashed outside and Esme disappeared into another room. I wondered how many chambers the house had. It wasn’t large, so I assumed no more than three. In addition to a quartet of crude chairs and an equally rudimentary table, there were two sleeping pallets in this room, so it served multiple purposes. I doubted people in Aeris used their houses as more than shelters. The concept of a home as a place of recreation would be foreign in a society like this.
“You don’t know where you’re from?” probed Lissa. Her eyes were as gentle as her words. There was no skepticism there; she believed my story, at least insofar as her son had related it.
“I have memories of another place but they’re fragments. It’s much different than here. Many more people.” How to explain the concept of technology? “They can do things here that you can’t… like make light without fire. Make a house warm in the cold weather and cool when it’s warm.”
“You come from a place of magic,” said Rikard, as if that explained everything. “Are you a Summoner?”
Samell has used that word during our journey but I was ignorant of its meaning. “I don’t know what a Summoner is. All I know is that I was doing something in the other world, there was a flash of light then I was in the forest, naked and with sunburned skin. I wish I could tell you more but that’s all I remember.”
“Magic,” said Rikard again. “Has to be. No other explanation.”
I might have agreed but I also recognized that, in a society like this, any sort of advanced technology would be indistinguishable from magic. A flashlight would be seen as a magical wand. Was there true magic involved here? Did such a thing exist?
“She warned us of the earth reaver’s approach and dealt the final blow without touching it. She must be a Summoner,” said Samell.
“You might think so. And I might agree. But it’s up to the elders to make the determination.”
Conversation halted as Esme returned carrying a plate heaped with nuts, grains, dried berries, bread, and jerky. She also brought an earthen mug of a darkish liquid. I gratefully accepted the food and ate it with a gusto that might have been considered unseemly in other circumstances. The beverage was an ale or beer of some sort - slightly bitter and stronger than I was accustomed to. I can’t say I liked the taste - it was definitely foreign - but that didn’t stop me from downing the entire cup and looking around for a refill. At that moment, another memory came to me: an old man with a well-trimmed beard and kind eyes handing me a small glass half-full of an amber liquid. With a wink and a smile, he said, “We won’t tell your mother. This can be our secret.” My past, replacing itself shard by shard.
By the time Brin arrived with the healer in tow, I was dressed appropriately. Esme gave me clothing from her limited wardrobe: a shirt similar in style and material to Samell’s (although several sizes smaller and cut better around the bust), loose pants made from a stronger material that were too short at the ankles, and a simple rope to tie around my waist. I was encouraged to keep the moccasins. I didn’t remark that they were too small since I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, although I recognized that, if circumstances required me to do a lot of walking, I’d have to acquire footwear that fit better.
Healer Drabek was a no-nonsense middle-aged man with long graying hair and a fine mustache and goatee to match. He looked decidedly unhappy to have been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night although his interest perked up considerably when he saw me. He flashed a smile, introduced himself in an officious manner then examined Samell’s injuries.
The interview with the healer didn’t last long but it provided a preview of what likely awaited when our story was told to the rest of the town’s population: a mixture of skepticism, anxiety, and open disbelief. I’m not sure which was the least credible portion of the tale - my mysterious arrival, the earth reaver’s attack, or the manner in which it had been beaten. Although it wasn’t clear how much of the account Drabek accepted, he acknowledged that Samell’s wounds were unlike any he had previously treated.
Using water and a sprinkling of the dried leaves he carried in a satchel, he made an ointment to rub along the gash on Samell’s chest. He then had me remove my left moccasin and, after examining my foot with many “hmms”, he dabbed a little of the same substance on the reddened area surrounding the thorn’s puncture. The result was immediate. A warm, tingling sensation flooded through my foot and, in its wake, even the vestigial traces of soreness were gone. The red vanished like paint scrubbed off by soap and water. It was truly amazing.
After the healer departed, there were still many things to discuss but, now that my stomach was full and my
foot no longer felt like there was a needle embedded in it, the weariness washed over me like the tide over an unbroken beach. I was offered one of the pallets and Esme curled up on the floor next to me. I was asleep in minutes and didn’t wake up until the hustle and bustle of the early morning household’s activities pulled me out of my slumber.
It was surprising how restorative a meal and a halfway decent night’s sleep could be. For the first time since I had arrived here - wherever here was - I felt ready to at least ask the salient questions. It was time to face the future and, to do that, I suspected I would need to rediscover the past. I knew a little bit about who Janelle was…but not nearly enough.
And, this morning, it was back - the mind-sense that had alerted me to the presence of the earth reaver. I couldn’t say exactly how I knew it was there, but I did. There weren’t any earth reavers nearby but I could feel things in a peculiar way that I hadn’t been able to in the hours following the attack. I wondered if this was something I should mention but decided not to. These people, as helpful as they had been, didn’t need to know all my secrets. Maybe if they committed to helping me… but what did I want from them in the first place? What were my goals? Until I figured that out, I would remain adrift.
“Sleep well?” asked Samell, crouching on his haunches next to where I was stretching like a cat.
“Better than out in the middle of the forest, that’s for sure.” I was hungry and thirsty but, by the noises and smells coming from the room next-door, some sort of meal was being prepared. “What’s next?”
“Time for you to meet the elders. Brin and Esme are off on their duties but my parents and I will go with you. This isn’t just about you, although you’re a big part. Our being attacked by an earth reaver is unprecedented in recent memory. The elders will know whether there’s anything written about this in the prophesies or whether there’s been chatter in the other villages about strange, portentous occurrences.”
Lingering Haze (The Elusive Strain Book 1) Page 5