Chapter 18: Communal Crescents Loved
Snow and blood and darkness bound
Silver and gold and loving sound
Sisters all, sisters five
Here we join, here we thrive
Lonely Lands Met
Vaelis was the eldest goddess, but Elder Valley was the youngest land in Lafleur. That was documented well within Lysandra's memories. The oldest land by far was the deimward marshes, home to the fiercest of landaax, the wildest of souls, and the Shallowroot Thicket, the first garden. Aurelin wasn't the youngest goddess, but she was the most free.
Which was likely why her marriage ended when the great peace began.
The youngest goddess by far was Draethis, with her insatiable obsessive need for justice. But that is almost certainly what saved her when faced with the Fiend's wrath five hundred years before my birth. She was cleverer by half than all the others combined, even going so far as to disguise her Mavi as herself on more than one occasion.
Lines are blurred for Salora and Lysandra. To say which was the elder sister would blur the most important part of the story. They were sisters. Almost twins. And they shared in each other's mischief above all the others. Which was why they were the first to see the Fiend's inevitability and why it so deeply broke Lysandra's heart.
To say all that history was written in stone along the road as we entered the deimward region of Lafleur would be wishfully poetic at best, but it certainly felt as though the rocks were dying to tell the tales.
In fact, the only true sign we'd crossed some unseen boundary was a weight that lifted when at last we no longer gave our souls to the land as toll for crossing. The scorched earth had thinned to life long before we lost our will to continue, and it was almost anticlimactic as the first bog flower's seeds were carried past in a sudden breeze.
But we'd made it. Almost two moons late, but not a sun too soon. And Micah was finally carrying more weight, though Love's Paradox continued to taunt them from my back. We were almost evenly burdened as the smells of stale air and stagnant water reached us, and we both let out a relieved sigh that it was something other than death and rain.
We didn't reach the garden before we stumbled into the first living city we'd seen since Amber Sands – not that Amber Sands could be considered a city, mind you. The city didn't have a name. People for miles just called it Town, so I'll do the same as a courtesy.
Our first sign of Town was a field full of sweating labourers. Men, women, and other souls working hard at harvesting before the seasonal herd change. I'd never seen the plants before that sun, but I knew them, and I couldn't quite place why. So I made the move to ask.
"Greetings, all," I called to any of them who would listen. Every last one scurried away and hid. Just me and Micah on the road we were travelling.
Micah tapped my shoulder. "I assume, dear heart," they whispered, "they are concerned because they know about how bad things are back in the eveward region."
"Right," I said. "We're not dead!" I called out. "Or dangerous!"
Micah laughed. I couldn't place what might be so funny. After all, I was speaking the truth. "Sit down, woman," Micah said before stepping to the edge of the road. "I have thirty-seven queendom argenta and one wild story for the first person who comes over here to answer my questions. As you can see, I have no weapons, and recently I've lost my cold-flame, so I'm simply looking for a bit of help, even if my friend over there is somewhat bad at starting a relationship." They paused for a few seconds before walking back to sit by me. "Give it a moment, but one of them will poke their head out in about thirty seconds. Not the bravest, but the least fortunate."
Like prophecy, one head leapt from the cover of the crops they had been tending, as if its owner had been stabbed with a needle. "You sure you're safe?" The question left something to be desired from the mouse of a person, but it was more than I'd gotten.
"Well, as the big one said," Micah called back with a smile as they patted my shoulder, "we're not dead. But I assume you're wondering if we're going to hurt you. How about this. I'll strip down to nothing and bind my hands and feet so you can have a worry-free conversation."
An awkward laugh came from all angles.
"Not necessary, friend," the unlucky soul called back. "I believe you, or at least I will as long as we keep this distance."
"Perfectly fair," Micah said. "My name is Em Fireweed, and this is Nyx Nightshade. May I have yours?" I gave them an odd look, but they simply grinned at me.
"Folks call me Stutter. Not sure why, but it stuck." Their voice had been shaking, but it was calming, so I was inclined to agree the name was a mismatch. "You all came on the eveward road. But folks don't come from that way. Not as long as anyone's lived in Town."
"Well, to be fair," Micah giggled lightly in between words, "we almost didn't come this way. That place nearly got us. You said there's a city near here?"
"There is. They have a tavern and an inn. A chapel if you and your —"
"It's not like that!" I interrupted. "Em is married to someone else. I'm just their bodyguard until they heal up. Their wife is busy with some work far marward."
"Oh! Sorry about that," Stutter called. "Well in any case. Don't worry about the money. Folks in Town don't really use queendom coins anyway. We just sort of share what we have and hope the best for our visitors."
Micah stood up and dusted themself off. "So I take it your town is a bit further along the road. Ask for us at the inn, and I'll pay you back some other way. Thank you, Stutter. Before we go, do you want that story now or back in town?"
"Tonight. Supper at the tavern, if you don't mind, Kind Fireweed."
"I'll see you there."
Town was unassuming, to be sure. Bigger than Ivory by far, but not so big as Amber Sands. And just as Stutter had reported, there was an inn, which was a tavern and also a chapel. Micah nearly fell to the ground laughing at the realisation when we pieced it together. Because of course the folks this far out wouldn't waste a building for each of those roles.
Let me be perfectly clear when I say this: the chapel in Town was something dreadfully right in a world that was so wrong. And I wouldn't realise until much later just why it felt so.
As we stepped into the tavern space, we were greeted by a kindly gentleman whose name I never caught. For the sake of clarity, I will be referring to him as How-do, since that is precisely how he greets everyone he encounters, or at least that is what I observed in the time we stayed in Town.
How-do was a tower of a man, taller than me by at least three heads, which was a feat unto itself, given that I stand a full head above the average person. He was thin and wiry, with frizzed black hair that didn't seem capable of obeying gravity. And his face was set in a perpetual scowl – a man after my heart if it were ever possible for that to be true.
"How-do, friends," he said as we entered the tavern. "New in Town, I s'pose?"
Micah stepped forward and offered an arm in greeting. "Just passing through, friend. Name's Em Fireweed, and the big one is Nyx Nightshade, my bodyguard. We're travellers from deep phobward." The man took Micah's arm in an odd gesture not quite like shaking hands. "What's a room in this fine place."
"It's a space with four walls and a bed," How-do seemed to smirk at his own humour, "but the price is whatever you can spare for supper. Happen to have any meats or salt or anything, that'll do."
"Well. We have some old stale salt-meats from a town deep marward, but I'd never presume to offer those. Quality is miserable bad." Micah made an odd face like they were considering everything we had in our packs. "Would labour suffice? Nyx is a baker of wide renown back home. Her speciality is something called layer-pastry."
How-do's eyes lit up as his scowl morphed into a proper smile. "Is that so? Haven't had layer-pastry since my suns in Greywatch Spire!"
"Fascinating!" Micah gave me a friendly look, to which I bared my teeth in a snarl. "Nyx hails from Greywatch. Her family have been bakers going back at least four generations." From Micah's perspective, it was a lie, but they were right. I'd just never told them about it. "Tell the man, Nyx."
"It's true. My Nan used to run a bakery called Spire's Spiced Spectacles," I blushed, thinking this man might know the place. "And my mother taught me some recipes she learned from a traveller who visited from the capital, so I have a pretty wide repertoire."
"You're Nesa's grandbaby?" I winced at the mention of my Nan's name. No one called her that when I was younger. 'Your Nan' or 'the baker' were the only names I ever heard used for her. Even her eulogy when I inherited the bakery just called her 'The Spire's Finest Baker', which stung a little, but her name was never common in town.
"That's right, sir," I said with a weak smile. "Taught me everything she knew, and I've come up with plenty of my own."
"Alright then. You and Kind Fireweed can stay, room and board covered, if you bake for us while you're in Town. And perhaps tell me a bit of what's gone on in the Spire since Nesa's sister went and vanished."
"You knew my great aunt?"
"Would've married the woman if her heart had been in it. But there was another. Plus the whole —" he waved a hand about his head to indicate minor lunacy, "— thing. And I suppose it's for the best, given how she left things. Anyway, let me get you to your room. Rooms?"
"One's plenty, friend," Micah smiled and pulled me close. "She can't very well serve as bodyguard if she's in another room. My wife would be dreadful mad if Nyx dropped the ball and let someone hurt me."
"Fair enough. Once we get you settled, I'll show you to the kitchen, and we can start on supper! Welcome to Town, friends."
Meetings Made Softly
Much like Ivory, the tavern in Town served as a sort of communal dining hall for the folks around. As such, the kitchen was an impressive place, big enough to cook for a fancy party in the capital. It was outfitted with all the tools any proper chef would need to prepare a fine supper, but the pantry was mostly dry goods and whatever the hells the town was raising out in the fields.
I took one of the bright green stalks and started investigating the thing with a careful eye. How-do watched with a chuckle as I felt and sniffed and eventually bit a small piece off of the thing.
That's when I remembered where I knew it from. It was refreshing, bright, wet, and satisfying. The odd vegetable Aurelin had brought to the table when the goddesses mutually agreed to support the great peace. It came from here.
"Not much," How-do said as I chewed and let the flavour consume me, "but it serves us well here in Town. Folks say a goddess gave them the means to raise it. Not the goddess, mind you. This woman showed up long long time ago and taught the people to work the land. Showed them those plants and what made them grow. Then she left."
A lot of truth exists in oral histories, I reminded myself. The second Scion had it right, it seemed, when they said language was the only thing that never died. I let myself appreciate the rest of what I had bitten before swallowing and answering How-do.
"I heard a story, ages ago, about a meeting of great women in a Grand Temple at the heart of Lafleur." Not entirely a lie. I'd seen the meeting in dreams, but he didn't need that context. "One of the women, a radiant beauty with hair and eyes that were brilliant gold, brought a strange vegetable that would refresh the body and soul. I can only assume the story meant this."
"Well we'll have to update our story with yours then, Miss Nightshade," How-do said with a whistle. I didn't care for the way he said Nightshade. "Now, we don't have normal flour here. Something called buckwheat serves. Do you think it'll work for your purposes?"
"If buckwheat can make dough, I can bake with it," I said brightly. "Honestly, it'll be great to bake again. As you might imagine, travelling doesn't offer too many opportunities. And I promised Em I'd show them how to make layer-pastry the next chance I had, so this will be delightful."
"Glad to hear it. I'll leave you to it, and if you need anything, I'm but a holler away."
Micah had been watching the exchange wordlessly and waited until How-do left the kitchen for whatever work needed doing.
"There's no way that stringy vegetable is so good a goddess would share it with her sisters," they said. I handed them the one I was still holding. "What am I to do with this?"
"Well, you could bite it and give it a chance rather than speaking ill of other cultures." I set to gathering supplies and left Micah to it. When I returned with all I needed, the thing was gone. "I see you hated it as much as I did."
"Dreadful thing, that," Micah smiled. "Now. Show me your ways, magical woman."
Buckwheat was a bit tougher than wheat flour, fighting against incorporation, desperately avoiding forming anything cohesive, ignoring every order I gave it. But baking is a patient woman's game, and I was nothing if not incredibly patient. After a challenging twenty minutes of pushing, pulling, rolling, and cursing the goddesses, I finally had something resembling a light bread dough without any extra fat in it.
I made Micah take over once I had a proper dough. Their cold hands would be essential for the next steps. Walking them through flattening the dough, then the butter, then folding the butter into the dough, then the fold-and-flatten cycle, I worked with Micah until we had a near proper layer-pastry sheet. Their forehead was sweating by the end of it, but their hands still held on to the chill of death somehow.
Once we set the ovens to a nice medium warmth, I began the process of cutting the dough. We got about one hundred medium triangles from the batch of dough we'd prepared, and I showed Micah the process for rolling them into little crescent shapes.
They baked almost perfectly into light and puffy wonders. The smell drew How-do back into the kitchen just as I pulled the first tray from its oven.
"I can't say as I expected otherwise," How-do said with a drawling tone, "but that smells like home, young lady."
"Well, it better," I laughed. "It's Nan's recipe. Or an approximation of it. Give it a few seconds, and you can split one with Em."
"You mentioned you're Nesa's grandbaby." His scowl was near unreadable. "But I can't recall that she had a family name like Nightshade. Where'd that come about?"
"I got it from the folks in that marward town where we got the salt-meats Em mentioned," I lied quickly. I'd been thinking of a good answer since Micah went with Nightshade. "The folks down there were a bit shocked by my darker skin. They said it was a compliment, calling me Nightshade, since their local Lady had skin like coal. Em and their wife latched onto it – they hired me when Em decided they wanted to travel – so we made it official."
A good lie is in the details. And the fact that Micah was hearing me tell it would make the whole thing easier.
"It's funny how so few of the desert folks have ever seen someone as dark as us," Micah chimed in. "Exceptionally common deep phobward, but apparently not in the marward desert. Though, my wife is from the desert, so I suppose it's not unheard of."
"S'pose not," How-do said politely. "Well now. Less'n the two of you are plannin a whole meal, you can clear out. Stutter and their family's night to cook, and they should be in shortly."
The door opened to reveal Stutter arriving just on time. Behind them were four young children, and rounding out the crew was a handsome man who could easily give me a challenge in the size and strength department. Neither the children nor the bear had been in the field when we met Stutter, but it was clear this was a solid family unit.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Nightshade and Kind Fireweed," Stutter said brightly when they noticed us. "Teach, dear, this is the pair I told you about. Nyx, Em. This is my husband Teach."
Teach's voice shook every fixture in the kitchen, not from volume but from resonance as he spoke in a deep and powerful tone. "Well met, friends. My Stutter tells me you're a couple of storytellers. I run what passes for a school in Town, and I would appreciate any new tales to weave into the lessons." I desperately tried to fight back the sound that escaped me at his voice. Unfortunately, he noticed and flashed a grin at me. "Don't worry, Miss Nightshade. That's a common reaction. I take no offence."
Micah grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door while giggling themself silly. "A pleasure to meet you, Teach. Help yourself to the pastries we made, but make sure and save some for supper. Nyx and I have some things to discuss."
The kitchen door closed behind us, but Micah kept moving me. A small gathering had already begun in the tavern space, so the path led us toward our room. They kept us going until we were safely behind the locked door and in private space, then they released me to my own devices.
I, meanwhile, slumped to the floor.
"Good girl," Micah cooed at my side. "You're okay. Like he said: it happens all the time. This will pass."
Our eyes met, and I had to sort through feelings and thoughts simultaneously. "Does this happen to you sometimes?" I gestured awkwardly at myself. "This overwhelming feeling of —"
"Yes," they said softly. "Dear heart, it happens to everyone. Just much less to people like you. And when it does, we breathe. So start there."
My lungs filled against my will, like something was forcing air into them, but I didn't fight it. As I breathed out, most of my body relaxed, so I took the opportunity to take another deep breath.
"How could he tell?" A weight in my throat tried to stop the words, but I had to get answers. "How could you?"
"Oh, Nyx, you poor sweet stupid woman." Micah pulled me to their chest. I could hear their heart. It wasn't a typical thumpthumpthump sort of sound. More like the sound of a stove flaring out when you open it with high flames. Or the sound of a smith's bellows. "People who are more inclined to the carnal side of life tend to know what desire looks like. And while you don't really feel attraction, you openly admitted you feel ... other things."
"What?"
"Hmm. How does one make this clear?" They released me and set my face to look at theirs. "Can you tell when I'm hungry?"
"Yes, but there are sounds for that."
"And can you tell when I'm tired?"
"I don't know where this is going," I said with a snap. "Yes. Because you lay your head on my arm and make a weird sort of chirp."
"Well," they wiggled their brows. "Same thing."
"Not sure I believe you," I said. "But thank you for getting me out of there."
Stories and Ghosts
After taking a long time in our room to get me grounded, Micah and I changed clothes and headed into the tavern proper as the last few stragglers to the community meal. Everyone was seated and facing the same direction. At one wall stood a golden-haired woman who could easily have stood in for Aurelin in a stage play.
The woman was in the middle of a lesson on community as we took our own seats in the back of the crowd.
"So it is that we work together, play together, live together. A people who do not commune do not survive. A people who do not share do not thrive. It is in this way that the Lady taught us. She and her warrior would be proud that we gather in her name.
"We have all been taught of our Lady's generosity and guidance. But I've been told that visitors to our Town have arrived this sun and bring good news of their own, words of not just our Lady, but all good souls who love this world."
I knew she meant me, so I simply awaited my fate. No escaping it now.
"Some of you good folks met our guests in the field earlier this sun. Stutter was kind enough to strike up a bargain for them to share tales with us, and it looks as though they've joined us here this fine eve." She waved a hand in our direction. "Friends, if you would, please come to the front so our whole Town can get to know you."
Micah didn't stand with me, instead waiting in their seat as I awkwardly moved toward the front of the room.
"What of your friend?" The golden-haired woman smiled awkwardly. "Are they not up to speaking just now?"
"Em has never been one to stand in front of a crowd," I admitted. Despite my discomfort with people, I was more the storyteller anyway. I should have slapped Micah for offering me up to the wolves, but the truth was that I would likely be doing it anyway.
"Not a problem. Do you have any stories you'd like to share, then?" She smiled again. Didn't really seem to be capable of another expression.
"If you'll forgive my reading it from my journal," I'd brought the book with me, somehow expecting an opportunity to write instead of sharing, "I have one about five great women sharing gifts. One of whom could easily be your own local Lady, given her affinity for the local farming scene."
Micah laughed from the back of the room.
"Able to laugh openly and draw eyes, but not able to handle crowds," I joked. "Em, say hello to everyone." They blushed and slowly waved a hand. "Good. I'll tell your wife you were well-behaved in Town."
The whole room seemed to get a kick out of that, and I opened the journal to the page where I'd rewritten the dream of the goddesses' meeting in the Grand Temple. It was written in Old Fleurian, so I had to slow myself down to translate. I made every effort to avoid the words 'goddess' and 'Mavi', and I didn't even say the women's names, except for Aurelin. People have a right to know the name of the woman from their local legends.
As I finished the tale with the goddesses leaving and going their separate ways, the room was silent.
"Well. Anyway. I made bread to have with supper this evening. I'm happy to share the recipe. Stutter should be bringing that out soon. Have a lovely evening, friends."
That night in Town was the final night of normalcy for Micah or me for a long time. We ate good food. We made good friends. We even enjoyed a joke on the people's behalf by letting them try to lift my warhammer.
When we finally went to bed, it was well past midnight, and we were ready to call it quits.
Town and its people bid us farewell just after lunch the next sun, and we didn't see a one of them again, but I wished them well. I gave Teach every story I could think of, and Stutter sent us off with fresh foods that would last a sevensun.
I include this part of the story here as the final moment of true peace before the end.
I'm sorry.