Chapter 19: Tarnished Spirit
Your intermingling breaths
Your silver and gold love
I long for the joy you share
I trust it to brighten your lands
Sacred Foolishness
"Tell me again, Nyx Nyx," Micah shouted around laboured breaths, "what the ever loving hells made you think it was a good idea to pet the marsh landaax?"
We were running for our lives, barely avoiding the sharp fangs of the otherwise harmless looking beasts that I, admittedly, had made the foolish decision to show affection. I suppose they must have taken it for weakness because I nearly lost an arm in the process. A terrible amount of medical attention would be necessary the moment we arrived in Blue Stone.
Why hadn't we brought horses on this goddess-cursed journey?
"If someone hadn't suggested it, perhaps I wouldn't have, Em," I called back before giving Afina fucking Thornleaf the most evil look I could. We'd stumbled into her two suns prior, and we'd been running for half the time since. As I said: when we least wanted to see her.
"Don't blame me," Afina growled. "How was I supposed to know you would actually do it?"
"Both of you shut the hells up and keep running," Micah was exasperated. I couldn't blame them.
We left Town behind and somehow managed to arrive at the edge of Shallowroot Thicket the same sun. Even if I wasn't certain at the smell, the appearance of the place was everything I needed to know we had found it. The Thicket was some kind of weird blend of bog, marsh, and swamp depending on how deep you went into it. It was horiffying.
Of course, there was also a sign in something resembling Old Fleurian, so that helped.
I hadn't expected the road to lead straight into the place. And yet there it was, waiting for us in all its hideous smelling glory. Micah made more than a few disparaging comments about the situation, and I wouldn't fault them that. Shallowroot was more depressing than the deadlands.
A dead tree typically provides limited shade, due to its lack of leaves. Multiple dead trees together don't tend to do much better. But the road that led into the heart of the Thicket was so well-shielded from the sun that I slowly lost track of the time. I only knew it was night when the heat and the smell began to weaken just a bit.
Though a swamp often makes its own heat on top of the heat coming in from the sun, so we had to compete with that.
Walking became a challenge when the road began to sag below the level of the wet on the Thicket's floor. Then the road vanished entirely and we were trudging through mud. After a time, we were almost hip deep in muck and barely moving for hours.
Micah, to their credit, kept their mouth shut about how badly we would need to bathe when we were at last free of the horrid place. I did not.
"How many baths, Em?" I was less than kind with my tone, but I didn't reel it in. "How many baths will it take to get this smell out of my skin?"
"This is your weird evangelical mission, Nyx," they reminded me with a smirk. "We could've stayed in the Aerie, never coming down. We could've lived up there until Deona was done with her own weird journey, and then we could've built a house by the Black Lakes and stayed there until time eventually claimed us." They laughed at the thought. "Although I'm not sure Dee would accept you as a replacement for our daughter, I am certain she would accept you for a sparring partner, given how indestructible you seem to be."
"Hey. Need I remind you I almost died in the eveward region?"
"No. I still have the soul scarring as evidence, dear heart."
And so we'd travel on, mostly just doing our best to not think about the sounds coming from deep within the wood of the thicket. We didn't need to worry if there might be some voracious beast lurking just outside our notice. It was fine. They wouldn't let us feel much pain for certain. Most terrifying beasts were fairly merciful that way.
I struggled to count the suns, so I can't say how long it was before the trees began to thin out and I saw at last our destination. The plants around it leaned in deference to some great repellent force, not willing to dip their leaves over the floor of it. The ceiling had collapsed, as had its support columns. But the shape of the temple was just the same as the rest.
A grand pentagon, carved from the most brilliant stones and laid together so that no seams were visible. It was the work of the goddesses, certainly, and it was about as majestic as one might expect the first sign of civilisation within the wilds to be. That is to say, it made the oppressive air lift a bit. At least until the moment I spotted the shock of sapphire atop the highest platform.
Five platforms. The deimward one high above the rest. And there was Afina Thornleaf, first Lady of Blue Stone, wife of the goddess Salora. Eternal pain in my ass.
That's unfair. All of it was true in retrospect, but when I saw her in Aurelin's temple, I was almost relieved. She was kneeling, presumably to pray over an offering she'd just left. Despite the long walk across the rubble left from the roof's collapse – I assumed it must have happened fairly recently – and the even longer climb to the platform, she was still in that position when we came up on her.
"You are late, Nyxara," Afina said the moment my foot hit the platform's surface. "Should have been here half a moon ago. What in Lafleur held you up?"
"That town. Where you died, you ungrateful beast," I snapped at her, revealing to myself that I hadn't quite gotten over what Micah shared while we were in that chasm so many moons past. "Someone had to pay respects to the dead. Or did you think I would just pass it over?"
"It's not like they meant anything to you," she said as she turned about. I couldn't be certain, but it looked like she had new scars since the last time I'd seen her alive. "Even if they did, burial doesn't really affect your afterlife."
My fist collided with her face before I could blink, all the cold-flame I could summon in the tiny fraction of a moment before the punch supported the weight of it and sent her literally careening into the trees beyond the bounds of the temple.
A laugh erupted from Micah behind me, which brought a smile to my face.
"She really is an evil beast," Micah said as I took up the position Afina had previously occupied. "You didn't have to hit her that hard. You might have broken a bone."
"It would've been worth it," I mumbled before looking over the altar's surface. Flowers of all sorts, jewellery made of precious metals and stones, small boxes and other objects. I gasped at just how much was there. "Aurelin has managed to be well-loved in spite of being gone. Good for her."
"Will we find another message here, do you think?" Micah sounded genuinely interested.
"Salora and Lysandra were responsible for the messages, so I would be surprised if there was one here. Still, it might be worth looking about. Worst case, we leave our own offering here and head out before the sun sets."
"You're just ready to be done with the stink of this place."
"Well, that and the fact that Afina is here means trouble. But more importantly, this temple doesn't feel like the others. It's not safe."
As if on cue, a howl went up. Chilling and ghostly. The marsh landaax were nearby and probably hungry, given that I hadn't seen a single prey animal in however long we'd been travelling the Thicket.
I was wrong. There was a message. Two in fact. Carved into the undersides of the altars of Salora – on the mornward platform – and Aurelin – on the deimward platform. Micah spotted the one on Salora's altar first. It was written in a needlessly flourished script that I somehow knew belonged to the silverthorn goddess herself.
When you see this, Ever Stable, you may hope it is from my sister. It is not. You may hope it is from my wife. It is not. I'm dreadfully sorry you must face this. If only you had waited another five centuries to arrive, you might have had an easier go of it, with help from a Lesser Rose.
As you are here when you are, I'll leave you with this. My dear Afina is foolhardy, and she is losing herself slowly over time. You needn't go easy on her, but trust she will one sun serve a true purpose, even if she's no help to you.
Good luck.
The one on Aurelin's altar seemed to have been written by a child, with barely legible strokes hurriedly hacked into the stone surface.
For the one who is apparently coming. The beasts once served my sisters and me. When the first of us died, they went wild. Each beast is drawn to its flower, desperately driven to protecting the blossoms from harm, a behaviour that resulted in far more harm than the people the beasts attacked. So long as you do not smell of the flowers, you should be safe.
Salora's message was useless. This message actually meant something. Micah pieced it together long before I did. The landaax were drawn to the flowers, trying to serve their ladies and causing greater trouble in the process.
But then, why did the plains landaax try to attack Micah rather than going after me? I had the bloodleaf flower in my pack. They should have come after me.
"Tell me, Micah," Afina's voice was and irritated, "why is it that Nyxara is situated under Aurelin's altar rather than in front of it?"
"Escaping the blistering sun for a moment," Micah said drily.
"Well she needs to get out here so we can talk. There isn't much time."
"And she is busy, so you can wait."
"I'm not that busy," I said with a laugh. "But if Afina needs me, then I suppose I can find something else to do down here."
"See," Micah said, "busy. So you can either leave, or you can wait."
"You two are insufferable," Afina stomped away. "If you ever stop being insufferable, I might be able to help you."
"No thanks," Micah and I said in unison.
The moment Afina was far enough away and facing the other direction, Micah tapped me, and I slid myself out from under the altar. Salora's Mavi was pouting on the far end of the platform from us, her short sapphire hair gently waving in the light breeze that brought a continuous refresh of the horrid smell of the place to my nose.
We started our descent from the platform without a word to Afina. Unfortunately, she caught us up before we reached the floor of the temple. Ever more unfortunate is what we found when we got there.
Seven furry little creatures. They looked like miniature landaax with wide friendly eyes and bigger ears. If I didn't know about their larger cousins, I might have taken them for harmless little woodland beasts. Still, looking at them, they were somewhat
"Cute," Micah said, drawing out the word like a person seeing a baby the first time. "Those weren't here before."
Afina grabbed Micah's wrist as they started moving toward the things. "I would not if I were you. Marsh landaax may be small, but they're more vicious by half than the larger ones. Plus their teeth are sharper than my sword."
"I have a theory," Micah said, already thinking about the message we found, I was certain. "Nyx, hold my bag."
Micah dropped their gear at my feet and approached the nearest of the creatures. It didn't even look up. They made it to arm's reach and then returned to my side.
"Fascinating," I said as Micah picked up the things they'd put down. "My turn, I suppose?"
They lifted my bag and shoved it into Afina's hands. I kept the warhammers on my back. As I approached, one of the beasts began growling lightly. Or purring? It was difficult to say. Since it could have been either, I kept moving closer. It didn't move.
"Well if you're going to get cuddly with it, why not go ahead and pet the thing," Afina said with a snort.
And that was when the trouble started.
Foreshadowing Fury
So we'd been running for the better part of two suns. And I had a fresh new wound to show off the next time we went to a bar. Every time we stopped, we'd get thirty minutes or so before one of those unsettling howls would alert us the things were closing in, so we'd pack it in and get moving.
The worst of it was while we were still in the Thicket, our feet sticking in the mud, our legs getting covered, yet again, in the disgusting muck. How the little man-slayers managed to avoid sinking and drowning was beyond me, but they clearly had some system worked out.
For most of our escape, Micah was on my back, unable to keep pace with me or Afina due to their incomplete recovery. The price of living a life fully reliant on cold-flame, I supposed. My heart ached with the sound of their wheezing breath and the shaking of their whole body against me.
When at last we managed more than a few minutes' rest, we were halfway to the border with the mornward region, and I was ready to relax. Unfortunately, Afina took the opportunity to talk nonstop until we went to bed.
"I realise I have not been the finest companion," Afina said with a sigh. "Nor the finest guide for the 'One Who Comes After'. My Lady would be dreadfully disappointed in me. So perhaps we can start afresh. My name is Afina Thornleaf, Lady of Blue Stone, wife of —" She looked away when she paused. "Then again, I suppose you know all of that. I was her Mavi before I was her wife. And before that, I was her friend. Best Lady at her wedding to Aurelin, with my sister Lynae standing with her Lady as Best Soul."
"Afina," I said, huffing at her irked expression, "I couldn't give two goddess-cursed biscuits about this. Either get to the part that matters or, so help me I will revive your Lady right now and kill her again myself."
"You couldn't," Afina said with an odd gleam in her eye. "But if you insist on missing the most important parts, then I suppose I have no choice. Before we faced the Fiend together, my Lady tasked me with waiting for you and serving you until she returned. Whatever it is you need of me."
Micah threw a rock at Afina, who leaned out of the way as though it were nothing. "Shut up. I hate your voice."
Afina's voice was a gravel-filled warrior's growl. Definitely feminine, but intensely combative. I could see why it irritated Micah, though I do not know for certain if they meant the statement literally.
"Very well," Afina said in a silky smooth voice still distinctly her own, but of entirely different character. "If this is more suited to the tastes of my interim Lady and her Mavi, I can make due until I am allowed the honour of never speaking to you again. For what it's worth —"
"You misunderstand me, Thornleaf," Micah stood and towered over the seated Afina, a hilarious feat, given they were both smaller statured. "I don't dislike your voice because of its sound. I dislike it because it's your voice. And you are a traitor to your sisters."
Afina didn't attempt to back away or crane her neck to look up at Micah. They simply stared straightforward, an action that would be inappropriate if Micah hadn't been the one to fill the space, knowing where it would put Afina's eyes.
"I am. And you have every right to say it." She seemed resigned to her role as betrayer. "Most of all Gormlaith, as you correctly pointed out in the chasm. And equally Linna, for not seeing her pain. For not stopping what happened with her. But I did those things in service to my own Lady, and I will not be shamed for it."
"Gormlaith trusted you to her death, you know. And then the deaths of twenty replacements. For what? A damned box and a snivelling brat. And here I am, standing as the next in line to fall. So that you could live on in spite of death. Did that not weigh on your heart in some manner deeper than just what you've become?"
"Of course it did. But by that point, I'd failed everyone else. It was either fail her as well or fail my Lady. Obviously I chose her."
"By the goddesses, Afina. Can't you say your own wife's name? She gave her life for you, and all you can say is 'my Lady' this or that." Micah seemed to be vibrating in the firelight as they growled their assault on Afina. "Stop being a fucking coward, and honour your wife. If you won't, then I'll find a way to bring her back and seduce her myself."
That did it. Afina was on her feet, bathed in the sickly silver light of her own cold-flame. Her left hand was on the hilt of her sabre, and her right hand was balled in a fist.
"You will not disrespect my wife that way."
"And you will not disrespect the memory of your sisters by being a coward."
Micah pushed with all the force they could muster, causing Afina to trip backward over the rock she'd been sitting on.
"Now," Micah said, walking toward our tent, "I'm going to bed. If Nyx wants to hear you out, the two of you had best do it out of earshot."
I moved over to my pack and lifted Lysandra's warhammer before turning to Afina. "They're right," I said. "Let's you and I take this well out of earshot. We can talk as you fight for your right to stand with us."
We found a wide open flat spot a ways off from the campsite, and I methodically marked off a massive circle. Afina stood in the middle of it yammering something about duty and responsibility as I was making certain it was big enough that hitting her with all I had wouldn't end the match.
"You may wonder," I said, interrupting some nonsense from her, "why the sudden urge to beat the living hells out of you. It's simple, really. Micah hates you, and they can't do it for themself right now. And since I agree with them and support them like a proper friend, I'm going to do it in their place. And if they decide later they have the necessary strength, I'll let them have a go." I smiled broadly. "Like a good friend."
"Alright. Fine," Afina smirked at me. "But I have millennia more combat experience than you. And I'm faster."
"So? Even if you strike me a thousand times, I won't fall. And I only need to hit you once, little Thorn."
We stood at opposite ends of my impromptu arena for a long silent moment. She met my eyes, waiting patiently, her sabre drawn. I didn't bother taking the warhammer off my back. I wouldn't need it. I really brought the thing more for intimidation.
A blink, and she was suddenly moving, at the middle of the circle in a flash. Never really a fighter, all I could do was wait for her to be in reach and move out of the way of her sword. Easier said than done, but she had a fatal weakness in her strategy: no fear.
Things that have no fear, fight like there is no risk. They make mistakes. And that is their downfall. I'd seen it a thousand times in Greywatch when I'd been asked to handle fools who stepped outside a reasonable path.
She got close enough before striking that my hands could reach her head. Could she move out of the way? Absolutely. Would she? Certainly not. Even if I killed her, she'd come back, so why would she worry about my knuckles caving in her skull.
When the hit connected, I felt bones break. She fell back and slumped to the ground. Admittedly, it was disappointing. I hoped she'd last longer than a single hit. But I was also pleased to only have to nurse one hand back to health instead of both.
Her body was light as I lifted her off the ground, taking her sabre from the limp grip that hadn't released it quite yet. She was a tiny little thing. Hopefully she would actually be useful in the coming moons. Otherwise, she'd be put out like a worthless dog.
Micah was waiting up as I walked back into the dim glow of the campfire.
"Disappointing," they smiled. "I hoped you'd have broken a bone or two."
"I did," I laughed at myself as a flush poured over me. "In my hand. She has a rock-hard forehead."
"So she's coming along, yeah?"
"As long as you don't mind it too much."
"Eh. If she gets out of line, I'll just remind her of the headache she'll have for the next several suns."
Afina did indeed have a monstrous headache. Not for a few suns, but for the next moon. Long enough for us to make the rest of the journey to Blue Stone, get a room at the local tavern, and complain for three nights that the local bar song was too loud. Apparently, she wrote the original version of the song as a lullaby for her wife and their daughter, but the town 'spoiled it' by making it louder and faster.
She wore a head wrap to hide her hair and a hood to dampen the shine of her eyes starting three suns before we even saw the town. Her excuse was that she needed to block out the sun, but she slipped a few times and admitted there was a risk to the town recognising her. She demanded we call her by a different name. Niafa. It didn't even sound like a real name and was similar enough almost anyone could piece it together.
Foolish, but I wasn't going to fault her any paranoia.
We were only in Blue Stone two sevensuns. Afina demanded it, or else we would have left after we managed to get the stink of Shallowroot off of us. Which itself took almost ten suns. The people of Blue Stone were tremendously charitable about it.
I took advantage – or rather Niafa took advantage on my behalf – of the local bookseller to buy two more journals for the rest of my journey. We left with him some of my notes, which he paid handsomely for, even though he couldn't read it himself. And we stocked up on actually decent salt meats and smoked fishes.
Micah at one point managed to bump into the local Lady. Afina Delia Thornleaf. She was a near copy of our sapphire-haired companion, but with brown hair and duller eyes. Her wife was a stunning bear of a woman with the look of a fighter but the energy of a home body.
Once we at last had everything together, we finally set our course for Thornwood Hallow.
Why not linger on Blue Stone? Because nothing spectacular happened. We put up with Afina's weirdness. We bathed multiple times per sun – at least until the floral soap finally did its job, then we backed off to once per sun. And then we left with refreshed supplies.
Also, Micah threatened to cut off my arm if I included a single detail of those two sevensuns, and even if they were smiling as they said it I like them too much to betray that trust.
Thornwood Hallow beckoned. And very little of note happened until the forest breathed a desperate inhale as we stepped beneath the shade of the first leaves.