I nodded and shot her a half-hearted smile, but Lyanna didn’t seem to notice that I was still troubled.
“I’m glad, dear. When you’ve warmed yourself, could you help me with dinner? And I have a few chores for you…”
My heart sank. It wasn’t that I had a problem helping Lyanna; it was simply that Lyanna’s version of chores for seventeen-year-old girls usually involved domestic responsibilities I wasn’t overly fond of. If I ever attempted to spend time with my friends, or stay after school, Lyanna would generally scold me and tell me that a young woman had no place spending so much time playing childish games with boys. Her verbal lists of reasons why a young woman needed to be at home were only matched by her long lists of tedious chores and sewing projects.
I wonder if there’s any way I could convince her to let me slip away to Wanderer’s Rest to speak with the stranger. Curiosity tickled my brain. But what kind of excuse could I make to Lyanna to go to the inn? I frowned at the fire and rubbed my hands more vigorously. Rev might come home with news tonight, but I knew that wouldn’t satisfy me. I needed to see this man face-to-face and hear from his own mouth about his encounter with the sedwa. And, in the furthest crannies of my mind, another need resided: where had this man come from, anyway, and where was he going? My paranoia would not let me rest until I had a chance to find out for myself.
“Elena!” Lyanna called from across the cabin, where she was kneading dough for bread.
Resigned, I stood and started on my work for the evening. I rushed absent-mindedly through most of the tasks Lyanna asked me to do, poking myself more than once with my needle as I sewed a patch on a pair of Rev’s pants and nearly burning the soup by forgetting to stir it. At last, with the table set and dinner prepared, I was able to retreat to a corner by the fire and try to think of an excuse for leaving after the meal. I was still at a loss when Rev entered and Lyanna called us to the table to thank our Giver of Life for the food.
My opportunity came unexpectedly when Rev began sharing the day’s news as we ate. “There’s news that the stranger at Wanderer’s Rest does indeed have…an interesting story,” he began. “Perhaps about the sedwa, as suspected.”
Lyanna looked up inquiringly and I felt my heart beat faster.
“How is he?” she asked.
“He will live,” Rev reassured her. “He’s recovering at the inn. They’ve had to keep a number of visitors away. Everyone wants to hear his story and know about the sedwa…”
Lyanna shuddered. “They are myths, stories. If the sedwa were real, why haven’t we heard more of them? Seen more attacks on Evren and its people?”
Rev frowned thoughtfully at his soup. “The stories all said they were elusive and that few people survived their attacks. But…” He shook his head and said no more.
“The stories also say they only attack if provoked. What was the traveler…?”
“That is what everyone has been saying, but the traveler was on a peaceful trip. He had plenty of supplies with him and money for along the way. He wasn’t hunting. He brought a bow with him for self-defense, but he bears all the signs of a man coming to trade goods.”
Lyanna swirled her spoon around in her soup silently.
“Tomorrow evening I am going to Wanderer’s Rest to hear the man’s story for myself,” Rev announced. “If danger lurks near our home, I want to know more about it.”
“But, Rev, you said they were trying to keep people away…”
“That doesn’t mean I cannot have a moment with him. The men of the village are saying we should prepare for grave danger. I want to see if there is any credence to the panic. To see the man, see if he is believable, see his wounds… I want to know what, if anything, we should prepare for, in case the worst is true.”
“Does everyone think there will be more attacks, even outside of the forest?”
“Some of the old stories spoke of the monsters leaving the Vorvinian Mountains and forest and attacking the outskirts of the village at night, though most say the sedwa do not leave the cover of trees. But if they are attacking this close to the forest’s edge now …well, the woods are Evren’s hunting grounds, and we live almost under the forest’s shadow. We cannot be too careful.”
I cast Rev an eager glance, hoping he could read the question in my eyes without me having to fetch a piece of paper. For the most part, Lyanna and even Rev had become quite adept at reading my thoughts and emotions, but Rev had a tendency to get lost in his own thoughts and become oblivious to the world around him. This time, though, he answered my look immediately.
“You may come with me, Elena,” he said with a smile.
“Rev…” Lyanna began in her scolding tone, but stopped.
“There is no danger at the inn, love,” he told Lyanna. “And I won’t keep her out late. You can’t completely tame that sense of adventure in her.” Rev shot me a wink and I beamed back at him.
~ ~ ~
The wind had grown stronger since my walk home that afternoon, and stormy dark clouds were riding in on its current. As Rev and I made our way through the hilly countryside toward Evren’s town center, I watched the clouds slither across the sky, revealing patches of stars far above and casting rolling shadows along the waving grass. The air was cold and ominous—or maybe that was my imagination as I thought of the sedwa creeping through the nearby forest, seeking cover in the same shadowy night that embraced me.
As we entered town and traversed its main road, I noticed that Evren was bustling with far more people than were normally out this late on dark winter’s evenings. Every shop and business was closed except for the inn, whose fires sent a radiant glow through the street, attracting a growing crowd like a swarm of insects to light. I studied the dim faces staring up at the inn: some of the citizens I knew by name; others I only knew by sight.
“No more gawkers!” Selna shouted, standing in her doorway and shooing townspeople away. “If you are not here for the food or a place to stay the night, carry on with your business!”
Several people gave up and departed with shrugs or sighs, but still more pressed even closer to the front door.
“Selna,” Rev called as we approached.
Selna broke into a smile when she saw us. “Rev and Elena! I suppose you are not here for the food or drinks either,” she said, quirking an eyebrow at us.
Rev and I squeezed past a few more people until we stood in front of Selna, close enough to see past her into the empty inn. “Is no one here for the food?”
Selna crossed her arms across her broad chest, but her lips curved in a half-smile. “I haven’t trusted anyone who said they were.”
“I confess we are as curious as the rest of Evren,” Rev said, keeping his voice low, “but I hoped that for faithful friends and longtime patrons—especially ones who live so near to Evren Forest and desperately want answers—you would make an exception.”
Selna sighed and tossed a glance over her shoulder into the inn, as if she could see up the stairs and into the stranger’s room from her position. “All right,” she relented quietly. “But you two are my last ‘exception’ for the day!”
Thanking her as she backed up to make way for us, we entered the warm inn and Selna hurriedly closed and bolted the door, shutting out the disgruntled crowd behind us. She set a hand on her hip and turned to me, as if I would understand her frustrations better than Rev. “Ever since our mysterious traveler showed up, the whole town’s been trying to barge through our doors to pester him. Forget food and drinks!” She rolled her eyes in frustration. Seeming to anticipate a reprimand that would never come from me, she added quickly, “No, no, it’s not that bad,” with a wave of her hand. “It really could be good for business, but we can’t have everyone upsetting the man when he is recovering. Of course, we can’t keep the crowd out forever, either. Now why don’t the two of you find yourselves a seat and have a drink first?” she asked hopefully, gesturing to the empty tables. Without waiting for a response, she grasped a broom from where it leaned
against the wall and began to sweep the room in firm, quick strokes. She looked like she was wielding a sword against an invisible enemy rather than cleaning a room.
Frowning up at Rev, I reached into my cloak pocket for my journal and pencil and scrawled a message on one of the empty pages. I want to see the traveler.
Rev walked over to Selna, who was continuing to face her unseen foes in combat, and cleared his throat. “We would rather not wait. Elena is especially eager to see the man.”
Selna studied me carefully and shook her head. “Are you sure, child?” she asked with a sigh. “His story is…troubling.”
I fought the urge to frown at her. I’m seventeen—not a child. But I merely nodded.
Leading the way, Selna strode across the floor to the staircase, its steps wide and rough, hewn from aged oak. At the top, she turned and knocked at the first door on the left before gently pushing it open.
“You have some visitors, if you are up to it,” Selna said. I waited at the top of the steps with Rev as a muffled voice replied to her from the room’s interior. Flickering candlelight danced along the hall behind Selna as she stepped back from the doorway and nodded at me. Head spinning in anticipation, I squeezed past her swishing skirts and into the room.
The long, narrow bed took up most of the small space. A candle sat on the nightstand beside it; its flame sent shadows flickering along the walls and across the face of the man buried beneath the bed covers. He appeared to be in his late twenties or thirties, his black hair beginning to thin and recede from his broad forehead, his skin was coated in sweat, and deep lines furrowed his brow. His dark eyes were glassy yet intent on me as I crept forward. My fingers trembled when I saw the pain etched in the shadows under his eyes and the taut line of his lips, but the sheets covered any other signs of injuries.
When I blinked I could see the yellow eyes of a sedwa watching me from the shadows. What horrors had this man faced?
His head stirred ever so slightly on his pillow and I glanced back at Rev, who stood in the doorway behind me, a silhouette casting a long shadow into the bedroom. A floorboard creaked beneath my boot and I hesitated, wondering how to begin. Grasping my journal and pencil in my hands, I sank into the chair beside the man’s bed and scribbled out a message for Rev to read. With a sigh he drew near, and, one hand adjusting his glasses, the other holding my journal toward the candlelight to see, studied my words before turning to the man. “I am Rev, and this is my daughter, Elena.”
Even though this wasn’t the first time he’d introduced me as such, my heart never ceased to warm at the word. Daughter. I shook my head to focus my thoughts as Rev continued.
“She is mute, but she wanted to ask you some questions, if you are well enough…” He hesitated, studying the man’s face.
“I’ll tell you what I can,” came the man’s raspy voice. “I suppose you want to know who I am and what I was doing traveling this way, and…about that…animal.”
His eyes were focused on mine, so I nodded. Averting his head to stare up at the ceiling, he let out a soft sigh.
“My name is Marke and I’m a merchant from Misroth City. Lately, business has been…less than ideal, due to the war. I have two daughters and a wife to provide for…you know, the story of a desperate man.” He shifted to look at Rev. “So I decided to take matters into my own hands and bring my business to another city, before we reached the heart of winter and traveling would be even slower and more dangerous. I gathered some of my wares and set off for Vorvinia. Evren Forest is not a prime travelers’ route, but with a wagon loaded full of goods, little money, and even less time, it was the best choice for me. Sailing was out of the question and every other route is either as dangerous or too time-consuming.”
I shuddered when I thought about the forest and what it would be like to venture into the shadows and face the sedwa again.
“It’s not a long journey from Misroth to Evren—if you manage to stay straight and true,” Marke continued, “but the old pathways are becoming overgrown, and trekking through the thick forest with a wagon is no easy task. In some cases I had to make my own trail by beating back undergrowth, and so a journey I’d hoped to accomplish in less than two days began to look like it would take double that time. By the second night, I was sure something was wrong in the forest: the animals were too quiet; the night felt…ominous.”
Marke hesitated, and I brushed at my arms, trying to chase the cold chills away.
“I’d heard the rumors about the sedwa stalking the woods and mountains, and knew why the forest path was rarely used, but since recent rumors have not spread…” He paused to catch his breath, and his eyes drifted briefly toward Rev, but then locked on me.
A queasy feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. Does he recognize me? What are the chances? The people of Misroth City rarely saw me, and I was a child then. Surely the likelihood of him recognizing me now is almost impossible…though I know I resemble my mother…
He broke into my thoughts. “Well, that last statement wasn’t entirely true. There have been a few tales in Misroth City and surrounding towns. I didn’t believe they held a lot of credence when I first heard them; to be honest, I thought there were other dangers and difficulties that kept travelers from using the path through Evren Forest other than the sedwa…”
Rev was frowning intently at Marke. “What form do these tales take in the capital? Are they similar to ours?”
“The tales speak of attacks from strange monsters. Dark creatures, with scales like dragons, sleek bodies toned with muscles like great cats, teeth like bears, and claws like…well, like no other creature known to man.” Marke shook his head. “Even more unbelievable to me were the myths whispered among some foolhardy citizens in Misroth City: that King Eldon did not simply close our borders to the Alrenian Empire to promote our independence, but that he found a way to cast a barrier around our kingdom that forcefully blocked our borders from intruders. The stories say that he did so to keep monsters like the sedwa out of our lands, and that he and his men hunted down the remainder still living in Misroth until all were extinct, all but the few that went into hiding. These rumors claim the sedwa are some of the creatures from the Wastelands.”
There were those stories about the kingdoms beyond Misroth again. A longing to travel beyond my small world, to see new lands and explore these mysteries, burned in my heart. Concentrate, I reprimanded myself. I shifted in my chair and looked back at Marke.
“What was I to make of this nonsense?” Marke said, glancing at both Rev and me. “If these animals existed, why were they the stuff of legend? Why were they not regularly seen, hunted…or at least why weren’t the people living near the forest and Vorvinian Mountains plagued by regular attacks?”
He stared at us for a long moment, as if assessing something. At last, he spoke. “I have a gift for discernment, so I suppose I can trust you.”
Rev shot me a look, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide with skepticism. I could almost see the thought flitting through his mind: Perhaps this man is delusional.
“In Misroth City,” Marke continued, “word is going round that there is a conspiracy involving the sedwa…that they only started making systematic attacks on citizens throughout Misroth once they were provoked by hunters. And not provoked by just any hunters, but by specific men appointed by the king to anger the sedwa and spread terror among the people so he could promise us protection and hold greater sway over us. Now, I am not one to question the oppressive state of his regime or his clear desire to tighten hold over us, but…this all seemed…farfetched.”
Rev was running his hand through his hair again. “We have heard news of oppression from the king, but mostly scattered tales told by travelers and the occasional whispers of merchants. Could you tell us more?”
My heart hammered against my chest. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in my mind: what Marke was saying was not myth. I knew what lengths the king would go to establish his power; I’d tasted them myself. And few in E
vren were questioning the sedwas’ existence now. The tension in my head grew. Conditions throughout the rest of Misroth must be worse than I’d ever imagined or feared.
“Of course, I had forgotten how Evren mostly keeps to itself.” Marke sighed, letting his head sink further back into his pillow. “Many are discontent with Zarev’s rule, but few will speak out against it and fewer still have chosen to oppose it outright. But…as I said…I see I can trust you.”
Rev and I exchanged another glance, and I realized my fingers were clenched together in my lap.
Marke drew a deep breath. “The king is ruthless in his efforts to control—citizens’ lives mean nothing if taking them means he can tighten his clutch on us all. Priests are forbidden to teach about the Giver of Life because the king is bent on spreading death; citizens are forbidden to gather together without express permission; guards patrol the streets everywhere and inflict terror and punishment through the torture and execution of any who speak out against the king. The slightest word can be twisted, called treachery, and used against you. There are no trials; there is no justice for us. Even the King’s Council has been disbanded under the premise that the action is only temporary and only a necessary evil during wartime. Yet despite this clear injustice, so many believe in King Regent Zarev’s goodness; they trust his lies and think he is protecting us all. Only a few of us dare to meet in secret within the capital, to share news and plan ways to oppose the false king. And none of this is the worst news…” He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath once more.
Glancing down, I realized my fingers were curling into fists. I relaxed them and lay my hands in my lap, but I couldn’t stop from fidgeting as Marke went on.
“The war’s expenses are taking its toll on us all. Our taxes are high, and our young men are being sent to Argelon where they can be trained as soldiers or guards. Evren is one of the fortunate towns too distant to feel the effects yet. And Gillen, our rightful heir to the throne, is nearly of age, but I fear he will never rule. Instead, word has it that Gillen himself led a regiment into battle.”
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