Magic's Genesis- The Grey

by Rosaire Bushey

  Travel on to the forests thin

  To find that which is unmade

  Travel on to the fortress tall

  To walls of blue ice and stone

  Travel on in the light of day

  Don’t let The Grey be known

  Wae Relin sat silently and then slowly rose to his feet. Looking to his guests, he said, “we have prepared beds for you in the trees. We will speak more tomorrow.” As Wae Relin and his men turned to leave the fire, he looked to Lydria, Haidrea and the others. “I am proud and joyful to have found our people after so long, but we are not reunited yet. We must follow the song of Drae Farn’Eston and continue north.” Lydria raised her head as if to speak but Wae Relin shook his head slowly. “Tomorrow we will speak again. For tonight, let us all sleep with glad hearts at having finally found the lost Eifen. For us, the finding of Haidrea, has been like the discovery of a legend and only tomorrow will we have had time to appreciate that and speak again with clear heads, ready hearts, strong bodies, and merciful souls.” With that he turned and made his way to a smaller version of the homes of Eifynar – carefully constructed from dead wood to blend seamlessly with the living forest around them.

  With a dozen unspoken questions, Branch, Weaver, Lydria, Kimi, and Haidrea all went to their own beds to wait for the light. Weariness did not claim them readily as they each thought about what they would learn the next day.

  Wae Relin’s call for breakfast and meeting came early. Haidrea had been up, and Kimi as well, his hunting successfully accomplished before full light. As the party sat around the glowing embers of the fire pit, fresh logs were added, and food cooked as the Eifen enthusiastically greeted Haidrea again and maintained their joyful demeanor from the night before. Still, Lydria noted they were more focused and when Wae Relin came from his camp and spoke in his native tongue to the men gathered there, they said farewell to Haidrea and her party, saluted Wae Relin and left the area. “I have asked the men to hunt for it may be some time before we can again, and our conversation today is not for everyone – not yet.”

  SIXTEEN

  The pipe was passed but it did not contain the same spirit weed Lydria shared with Drae Ghern, but a sweet-smelling herb that was pleasant and smooth on the back of the throat. Wae Relin said it was a good balm for days where there was much talking to be done.

  For much of the day, the group shared their stories, with Haidrea giving a long account of her people, which contained little mention of the original group who settled in the east. Hours later it was Lydria’s turn to speak and when she reached the point where she met Haidrea, she told the group everything to include how she found the sphere, which she showed them. To answer the incredulous stares from Wae Relin and Branch, she held out her hands and calmly lifted Haidrea from her seat and moved her across the circle and set her down next to Wae Relin. The silence that followed was interrupted by a hail of questions from everyone except Haidrea who explained what they had learned from Drae Ghern and through trial and error, as Lydria ate and tried to ignore the pain that gripped her swollen left leg.

  While amazed at her power, Wae Relin did not question Lydria about it. He was very sure of himself, Lydria thought, and when no one else spoke, Wae Relin took up the pipe and began to tell the easterners about Eigraenal, the City of Earth, with its towering buildings built into the giant forests of the west.

  “Our forests grow much larger, but not so thickly as your homes,” Wae Relin said. “The trees of Eigraenal stand many times higher than your maples and oaks, and it would take more people than those we have here to reach our hands around their base; and they live for many generations of the Eifen. Our city is home to thousands of our kind and we are largely left alone in peace by others who live nearby.”

  Wae Relin told of the craft of the Eifen, “who are the only crafters of the Farn’Nethyn in all Eigrae. Alas, the master craftsmen of darkstone are gone many generations. So rare is the darkstone, that no new deposits have been found for generations and our people have lost much of their old skill. But we keep the knowledge alive by reworking old armor and weapons and crafting them anew. In the halls of our city, we have darkstone blades, and armor, and even arrows capable of slicing through any armor save darkstone itself. Because of this, we are enriched, as traders and kings pay handsomely for even a scrap of the stone turned into jewelry worn by queens. A darkstone ring would be a heavenly gift indeed.”

  “Are you not concerned these kings and traders will come to take your darkstone by force?” Always a practical soldier, Branch’s question cut to the very heart of what everyone else was thinking.

  “When outsiders are allowed in Eigraenal, we gladly show them the stone, and the works we have wrought from it,” Wae Relin said, with a slow grin crawling across his face. “There are not enough Farn’Nethyn weapons to be worthy of war, and no king would attack a force that has even the amount we hold. Kings buy the stone so they may recognize it and search for it. If, by chance, one happens to find a vein of Farn’Nethyn, then they will seek us out again for the tools to mine it, and the skill to work it. Because of this, outside of Eigraenal, there is only one Farn’Nethyn weapon, and that is the Flaming Sword of Wae Wilmamen, lost to the swamps so many years ago.”

  Wae Relin ended his story and passed the pipe to others and before nightfall, his men came back to camp with their hunt. Wae Relin looked to Branch, who had not told his story and who declined when offered the pipe, causing the Eifen to turn his attention to other matters.

  “From our travels east, to your Graetongue’s insistence you leave Eifynar, one thing only is clear, and that is the involvement of Haustis.”

  “Surely, the Haustis of the west cannot be the Haustis of the east?” Branch’s incredulousness was echoed on everyone’s face and even Haidrea looked to Wae Relin to see if he had some answer they lacked.

  “Haustis has been part of the Eifen since the beginning,” Wae Relin said. “Knowing the difficulty of passing to these lands, it is unlikely the Haustis of the Eifynar is the same as she who serves Eigraenal. Before we left the west, Haustis came and spoke to me of the Grey,” added Wae Relin. “That is, the space between good and evil.” Only Haidrea seemed to comprehend what Wae Relin said as she nodded almost imperceptibly as he described what Haustis had told him. When the others didn’t seem to fully understand, Wae Relin continued.

  “Weaver,” Wae Relin said, “You seem unfamiliar with our people, so I put it to you, which would you consider more of a threat – great good or great evil?”

  Weaver, caught off guard, looked to his captain out of instinct borne of years of training. Branch placed his hand on the larger man’s knee and said simply, “speak freely.”

  “Well, sir,” the soldier said awkwardly, not wanting to make a fool of himself or his captain. “I would say great evil were most to be distrusted.”

  Wae Relin smiled. “So then, you are a farmer and an evil man wants to take over your lord’s estate and have you slave for him. That is evil, I think we can agree. But, forgetting the evil man, there is still the lord, and to this lord you work and provide a portion of your yield. You bow to him and provide him with income, and the land you tend is not your own, it is his. There is no war, no fire, no rape, no destruction. But at the end of the day, you are still effectively, a slave…” He let the question tail off and no one answered.

  Wae Relin let the subject drop and turned to Lydria, “I see beneath his fur, the cat Kimi wears a collar of blue as to yours. This magic you spoke of, does this extend to him? Can he hear and understand me?” Lydria nodded and Kimi lifted his head from the woman’s knee to stare at Wae Relin, who gently ruffled the tufts of fur extending from the sides of the cat’s mouth. “Remarkable. And can you understand him?” Before Lydria could answer, Kimi placed a thickly padded paw gently to the man’s cheek and held his stare. There were no claws, but the cat held Wae Relin’s face like one would a new borne babe. Finally, he lowered his paw and rubbed his head under the man’s chin, before mov
ing to his lap where he turned circles and kneaded a space for his nap once again.

  Weaver, who had been thinking over the issue of good and evil, plucked up the courage to speak over the moment as Kimi sunk his chin into his front paws and stretched his jaw to show his young but impressive teeth. “Are you saying, then, there’s no difference between good and evil?”

  “Not at all,” the Eifen smiled. “Not at all, good Weaver. Generally, people are good. Some are bad people with mistrust and greed in their hearts, but they are not evil. Just as good people who help others and are happy, are not entirely good in all they do. My point is this,” and he took a green twig from the ground and pulled the two ends toward each other. “If good lies at this end, and evil at this end,” and he moved the ends together to form a circle, “then what are they when they are linked in this way? Most of us, you see, are here, at the bottom of the circle, opposite the gap. Largely, we choose to go in one direction or another, but the way is always up, and very difficult, so most do not climb far. True Evil, like true Good, however, takes a strength of character most do no possess, and they do many things that may not seem altogether good – or altogether evil - along their journey. So, if they do make it to the top, whether truly good or truly evil, they continue,” and here he opened the circle slightly. “That is when they enter this grey area, and this is of what Haustis speaks. The Grey is the defining point between good and evil, where acts of compassion and acts of belligerence are often the same thing.”

  “You believe Wynter climbs the side of evil?” Haidrea asked.

  “From your story and the story of Lydria, he is a man capable of much disruption. So, it is likely that he is capable of doing so; but I am not Haustis, and I think you should do as Drae Ghern bids and find her.”

  As the night came upon them, the company shifted their conversation to stories of a more enjoyable nature, with Haidrea and Wae Relin and his company each telling children’s tales or stories they were told by their elders. As the moon rose and a chill entered the evening air, the men and the Eifen said their goodbyes for the evening and retired to their beds. Lydria and Haidrea likewise went to their small cabin, chatting quietly as they opened the door, which as it cleared the frame, Kimi’s voice came sharply to Lydria, “We are not alone; someone is here.”

  Lydria put her hand on Haidrea’s shoulder and sent a ball of light through the air to land and ignite in the small fire pit across the room. All thoughts of sleep disappeared as they saw by the fire an old woman with buckskin boots, wiry hair and a smile that made them feel at home.

  “Welcome. I am Haustis.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The journey slowed considerably. Every waking hour, Wynter was performing magic. He had started small, with the fire and began moving objects, first by simply lifting them, then by hurling them, and then by sending them with a purpose toward a target. In this way, he learned to hunt with an arrow without ever pulling a bowstring. His first successful hunt was a small rabbit and when the arrow struck home, it was as if Wynter had been hit by a tree. The air was pulled from his lungs and his chest ached so, he was sure he had been ripped apart. As the rabbit fell, so did Wynter, an anguished cry echoing forth from lips instantly gone dry.

  Wynter had broken bones before and he been sick before. He had been wounded by knives, clubs, and there were even scars on him from arrows. But the pain he felt as his arrow hit the rabbit was as if all the things that had ever happened to him, descended upon him at one time. From his hair, his eyes his teeth – every muscle ached with an intensity that betrayed logic. He couldn’t curl up to ease his stomach, because his legs felt as if they were on fire, and he was sure his back was broken in many places.

  Looking at Nethyal, his lips trembled, and tears flowed freely from his eyes, though they felt as though they cried blood. Wynter’s hands were curled upon themselves and would not move from his chest, and it was little comfort when the Eifen told him that there was no blood, and his bones remained intact.

  A moment of triumph had been replaced with the swift lesson that magic was not a gift given freely. For days, Wynter lay immobile, but not like in the forest earlier that spring. This time his body could move, but to do so was torturous pain. Every movement along the ground felt like his skin was being peeled like a piece of fruit, so he lay there, sobbing, his head pulsing with pain so extraordinary he was sure it might crack.

  It was days before he could move again, and during that time, Nethyal fed and washed him, carefully turned him toward the fire at night, cleaned him when he could not move. The wisdom of Nethyal was clear, for without the Eifen’s presence, Wynter realized he would have been dead many times over.

  When he was able to move again, Wynter continued to practice but more carefully, never wasting an opportunity to do so, but never again trying to kill with magic. If faced with a stream to cross, he would send over their meager provisions one item at a time. He attempted to lift Nethyal across the river but was overcome by exhaustion before the man had moved a yard and it was he who was carried to the other side, slung over the warrior’s soaked back like a sack of meal.

  As summer came on, they continued moving north, finally arriving at a small village on the edge of a large bay. The ice and snow were visible in the distance along the water’s horizon, but the bay itself was reasonably mild. A small community made their homes near the shore and for the first time in many weeks, Wynter heard children laughing and saw a community at work as they worked their shallow fields and prepared their homes for the next cycle of ice and snow.

  “Do the children remind you of anyone?”

  The voice had been silent since Nethyal had come and now it was back.

  “Why do you bother me, woman?” Wynter said to his wife’s voice. “Why now?”

  “Because you are tired, and you have relaxed your mind enough for me to get through.”

  “Where were you when I was lying broken upon the ground, unable to move and in constant pain?”

  “I was making your pain bearable. Had I not been with you, your body would have been scavenged by birds along with the rabbit you killed.” Ellaster moved smoothly from Wynter’s accusation to continue her own line of questioning. “This village, do you think this is where you will live your days?”

  “No. This is where I will build my power.”

  The voice in his head went silent, and Wynter turned to Nethyal and smiled. It was not a warm smile, but nor was it menacing, it was a smile that told the world change had arrived.

  “Welcome home, Nethyal, my friend. Now it is time to work.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Lydria, Kimi and Haidrea built the fire as introductions were handled by Haustis who seemed to know both women quite well, and when her eyes rested on Kimi, she immediately dropped to one knee and gathered the bobcat in her arms.

  “This one is quite extraordinary,” Kimi said. “This is who left the tracks we were following through the woods.”

  “The hour is late and I’m sure we will have time to speak more, but I wanted to tell you a story tonight that you may not have heard before.”

  With no ceremony or pipes, Haustis launched into a family history.

  “I am the wife of Ghern, mother of Ilsit, and grandmother to you, Haidrea, although I left that title long ago.”

  The statement came with such clarity that both Haidrea and Lydria were struggling to react when Haustis continued, as if she had rehearsed her story many times and was in a rush to get it all out before she changed her mind.

  “The Eifen say that Haustis comes to each new chief, and this is true. I came to Wae Ilsit when he became chief. I was so proud. And for perhaps one of the few times in my life, I was caught off guard. I took the mantle of Haustis when Ilsit was a baby and yet he knew me for his mother despite never having laid eyes on me. He said he could ‘smell’ it.”

  Kimi made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat and draped his front paws over Haustis’ knee.

  “Ilsit’s wife,
Majiya, the mother of Haidrea and Nethyal, did not die as you have been told. She was very ill and went to the woods to die. Her birthing of Haidrea was difficult, and leaving her child with her husband, she went to the woods, she told him, to rest. She walked far and long, eventually falling into a deep sleep. She was found by a man and taken to the city by the bay where she was treated well and healed, but she could not remember who she was or where she had come from. She was different, certainly, because of her Eifen ears, but she hid them with scarves and hats, and eventually she found a man to love again. A soldier, who treated her with respect and kindness. Sadly, she was lost for good while following her soldier husband on his campaigns. The life of a camp follower or wife is not easy with war a constant neighbor. Before her death, however, she bore her husband a daughter.”

  The women were leaning forward waiting to hear more. “Lydria, you are half-sister to Nethyal and Haidrea. Their mother is your mother also.”

  Haidrea was the first to move, grasping Lydria in her arms, “well met, sister.” The three women smiled and cried and moved closer together in a circle, their knees almost touching and smiling like they knew no other expression. Kimi spread himself across the legs of all three women, enjoying three sets of hands scratching his ears, back, and tummy all at once.

  And then, as quickly as the crying had started, it stopped, and while the smiles remained, the tone of Haustis turned serious once more.

  “I know you must have questions and I have more to tell, but I will let you ask first, so we may continue with your minds at ease.”

  Haidrea spoke first. “How is it that you are Haustis who has been told of for generations? How is it you are wife of Drae Ghern who is appears so old and near his end, and you seem so young? How is it that Wae Ilsit knew you for who you are, but Drae Ghern did not? And are you the same Haustis who guides our kin from the west?”