9.5 Happier Stories
General Summary
Day 91
Having done some light trading to supply us with general camp goods and some trinkets (jewelry for Hella), we prepare to leave. Moira takes me aside beforehand, which I have come to expect from the leader of any community we leave.
She tells me that she prayed to the Weaver last night, and the Weaver spoke to her in a way that she rarely does. Danger and pain follow me wherever I walk. Moira tells me that if I ever need shade and shelter, or if I’m weary and need to rest, I am always welcome in her village. She gives me a pouch with five vials of a golden liquid - healing potions with the Weaver’s blessing upon them.
It is a curious feeling, to be invited to rest in the shade by a god instead of forever setting forth on the next journey or challenge. It doesn’t suit me. There can be no quiet rest while I am well and there is work to be done. A peaceful life of shade and shelter awaits me when the work is complete, and the Empress knows that, or she would have called me home sooner.
Still, I thank her for her kindness and we depart. On the road, Bran tells us that the village’s benedictions change with the season. Right now it is summer, so the Weaver’s awnings provide shade. In the winter, her blankets will offer warmth. It still feels auspicious that we found this place when all people turn their thoughts to shade, but perhaps not as significant as I’d hoped. Clearly these are not the Empress’ lost people.
In the evening we make our camp and Camellia takes the opportunity to examine the fae sword. The language is archaic, she tells us, because the fae language changes so rapidly. The language of longer-lived races is slower, calmer, but each generation of fae leaves their mark on the language. She says the sword is called something like The Heart of Ice and Snow, and it demands to be flowing and in motion when it is used. Some tools of power can be held and channeled, but this sword must be moved.
Thus begins our lessons on the fae and elves. We begin with stories.
The first fae is known as the Heart of Song, and she was born from the trees themselves. Nowadays, fae love one another and have children like us, but the very first ones came directly from the trees. The Heart is a manifestation of the trees’ songs - of winter breezes in dry branches, the autumn rustling of leaves, and gentle flow of spring water. She and the most ancient trolls planted the first groves together, and from those groves came yet more fae.
It is said that the Heart gave all of the fae a blessing to survive and overcome the darkness of the War of Fire, but what exactly that blessing was has been lost or forgotten. The fae believe that many years of sorrowful songs hurt the Heart, and she retreated to the centre of the last remaining grove, where the trees become impassable. Occasionally a child can venture deeper than adults, but none of have found her. Some say she sleeps so that the fae can know joy again, for her heart only knows sorrow. Some say that if they sing of more joy, and less sadness, the songs will reach her and she will wake again.
Camellia draws us the symbol for the Heart of Song - a symbol unchanged, despite its age. It is the first that fae children learn.
It is a somber story, and Kadia brings it further by asking about the end of a fae’s life. “We die like all things,” Camellia says, incongruous with what she goes on to tell us.
Fae know when their last year approaches. They return to the grove to sing their last song - the story of their entire life, and then return to their birthplace to die. She assays it is truly tragic for a fae to die far from the grove, to leave their song unsung.
But Kadia tells us it was different during the war. Fae in their last year would sing their last song and then come back one last time, so potent that they might rival even a Hand.
The mood lies heavy over us, and Camellia asks to hear of the Empress. She wants to know less about the darkness of the war. Kadia, too, asks for a lighter story about who the Empress has become, in the thousand years since she slumbered.
So I tell them about the Carthians, and how the Empress adopted a new people into her shade, and preserved their differences and their joy while making all of us stronger together. I remember a Carthian I knew...Riqiqiqik - an emerald green scout with deep purple and blue mixed in. She guided Mistress and me through the jungles while on journeys, and she didn’t even need music to dance. It was like she could hear the beat of something no one else could hear, calling her to move and to dance.
The Carthians are so different from elves, and no less favoured or loved, for all the Imperial Court might have once argued about it. It is easy to look at people who are different and wonder if they are better or worse. The Collective’s approach to this has been to simply make everyone the same. A better culture sees why the differences are so important.
With the mood lightened, we sing and dance to the memory of Riqiqiqik until it is time to sleep.
Day 92
As we crest a hill, we see the shining sea in the distance, only a day’s travel away. Continuing towards it, the land gets wilder and scrubbier, and we come up to a settlement of 400-500 humans. As has become habit, we send Bran in alone and meet him on the other side.
This time, he is unimpressed by what he finds. The people here are interested in him because they think he might be wealthy with money from Deldrin. In the same breath, they disapprove of the racial mingling in the city, and ask if there are “half-breeds” there. As distasteful as this idea is, I do wonder aloud at whether Bran is entirely human anymore.
He considers himself human, and the only significant difference is that he follows the Empress and feels special because of it. In time though, perhaps more humans will follow her as well.
As the day draws to a close, we find ourselves nearing the ruins. The mouth of the river is treacherous and wild, but the ruins of the Crystal Spire glow like mother of pearl in the sunset. I catch sight of some lights moving about the ruins (Ingans?) but that is a problem for tomorrow.
Kadia falls to her knees at the sight, and it doesn’t take long before we are all cluttered into a hug on our knees. We find a place to make camp that is sheltered from the sight of the city; she should be allowed to engage with the sight on her own terms tomorrow.
I take it that Kadia is resting, inside of whatever mind she shares with Hella, when Hella approaches me.
“I’m scared,” she tells me, “I’m scared of not knowing who I am anymore,”
Oh if only I had had a seemingly wise old wizard to tell this to, on my first night here. I only had Dal, and he was very unhelpful.
Hella is so young, and so small compared to the enormity of Kadia’s life and experience. Sometimes she remembers things that aren’t hers, and she feels like she is going to lose herself in the flood. Maybe one day she won’t remember the differences between her the mind they share.
And she’s afraid for Kadia, because she is sweet and empathetic and willing to fear more for others than herself. Sometimes Hella finds herself reaching for something with an arm she doesn’t have, and it must be so much worse for Kadia, but she says nothing. Is she hiding all that pain?
It is a deluge of feelings and fears and I hug her close while she cries. Even if Dal had been a wise old wizard, I doubt I would have shown him this vulnerability on my first night.
So for Hella, we talk about how sometimes the thing that you know is right (sharing a body with Kadia) is absolutely going to be the hardest thing to do, and it’s okay to feel scared and uncertain about how to handle it. And I tell her that she is her own person, and I’ll talk to her about her own problems, but that we can work on the Hella-things before working on the Kadia-things, because one must take care of oneself in order to take care of anyone else. So for the Hella-things, I remind her of magic and focusing on only one thing, instead of many, the way she did when she was first learning. And maybe she can try this with memories, and her sense of self: Being one thing, instead of many.
