14.2 Heavy With Joy

General Summary

Day 160

When I wake, Bran and Rabiya are already up, chatting about Deldrin and Bran’s travels. Raibya shares some of his wares with us - a warm spicy beverage that he calls uffa. It comes from the Trogs, who are cave-dwellers.   Before we break camp, I steal a moment with him to share what I noticed the night before about his markings. He drinks in the information solemnly and finally asks if Carthians would accept someone like him, who is so clearly different from them.   I tell him that any Carthian of his tribe who saw his markings would recognize him as kin and treat him as such. Carthians are so closely bonded to their blood tribe, unlike elves. I have a hard time imagining that any would shun someone who bears these marks. He tells me that his heart is heavy with joy.   For the rest of the journey to Whitewater I share stories of Carthians from the Empire and in exchange he tells me more of the minor races here. Some Kadia recognizes as people who lived in her time but were less civilized at the time. They weren’t part of the Covenant of Ten Nations back then. I think that if we are to reform to Covenant, it will need provisions for adding new people. Any system built to last will need to accommodate the future of all people, however that definition changes.   Before we reach the town we stop to let Hella freshen up. She changes into her apprentice robes and I’m pleased to see Bran change into his Fatespinner robes. And slightly abashed, since it hadn’t occurred to me to change out of my travelling clothes. Still, I put on the worn uniform that was first sent through the Shadowgate for me. It feels safe.   As we ride in, Rabiya throws candy to the children and lets me do the same. The entrance is not what I anticipated when we first decided to return here!   Hella’s reunion with her mother is sweet. The older woman hugs her fiercely and I see her father making his way over as well. Hella introduces them to me (using my Elvish name, I notice). They are wary at first but between Hella and Alder, they’ve soon charmed Ellen and Del. We retire to their inn to eat and share the story (which is a delicate dance of sounding safe and also capable).   As dusk falls the inn fills up with more people. I can feel a lot of raw magic amongst them...untapped and nearly untouched. The magic of the Candlemaker is awake here, but I feel the Weaver, the Sentinel, and the Fisherman as well. Like the Weaver’s Village the bloodlines are strong here.   Bran complains over a drink that Hamman has had him declared officially dead and subsequently his cousin has sold his forge….to Hamman...who will sell it back to Bran at the price of purchase. Ridiculous, to expect a living man to buy back his own property after being falsely declared dead. A problem for tomorrow, I think. Bran counsels me that if my goal is to force Hamman into accepting a civil truce, the best way would be to invoke the Weaver. Fair enough, I think. If I can force him into letting Bran into his forge then I’ll do that too.