9.4 The Weaver's Shade

Day 90

We cross the river and find ourselves approaching the early morning fishers on the shore. None of them seem alarmed by us, and we send Bran to befriend them. It’s a task that he’s well suited for but even so, he spends 45 minutes laughing and chatting jovially with the fisherfolk.   When he returns to us, he tells us that the people here are uncommonly kind. The village is said to be blessed by the Weaver herself. The people here all pray to her, even the fisherfolk, and they are minor mystics though they don’t seem aware of it. They say a prayer to her before casting a line and the prayers have words of power in them.   And...they don’t really think that elves and dwarves exist. Or at least, they’ve never seen one before. Supposedly this means there won’t be the same ingrained prejudice as the towns where elves are known and hated.   One of the fisher folk, Tommin, greets us and brings us into the village. Of course Bran first befriended the village smith - a wiry man who (hilariously) specializes in making wire. Wire is the basis of much of his work here, and he weaves it to suit their needs.   Weapons are forbidden here, and we agree to leave our open weapons at the temple. With all of us able to cast and Alder being well capable of hiding many of his knives, it seems safe enough. Still, the atmosphere of the village is such that it’s hard to imagine needing our weapons. The streets are full of children playing and laughing. The 200-300 people of the village all seem friendly and open. The Weaver’s influence is clear - I see a group of children weaving baskets together and they do it so carefully and elaborately that it could be mistaken for elvish work were it not for the human patterns.   When we arrive at the temple, a boy greets, “Be welcome in the Weaver’s shade,” with no trace of irony or discomfort.   And he packages our weapons (including the fae sword, which Camellia notices) into a woven chest and binds it shut with a prayer that I can tell is powerful enough that we wouldn’t be able to open it again. Their priestess, Moira, will be able to meet with us in an hour. I’m sure she’ll have a lot of interesting things to tell us about this place which feels remarkably welcoming to a people they’ve never seen before.   In the meantime, Tommin takes us to his shop and then to the statue. On the way, he asks if we are heading to the ruins by the sea, a place where his village mates have gone before and returned from with wounds from burning claws and tales of dark things prowling the ruins.   As I expected, the enormous gem is a magical anchor for the same sort of wide-area magic described in the book that Yson gave me. This magic makes the surrounding area more fertile (including the people, judging by the village), wards off hostile beasts, and does one other thing I can’t quite put a finger on. There is something in the earth here, and this magic distributes it.   Near the statue we can see the remnants of a very old elven settlement, which Kadia says is older than her. Evidently this place existed before the Empress’ bond with the elven people.   On our walk, I also tell Camellia the story of how we came to possess the fae sword, and she agrees to exchange languages with us.   And then we return to the village to speak with Moira, their high priestess. A fascinating woman.   She came here from the other side of the sea. In the land on the other side, the Weaver is not as honoured as the other human gods, and people are not kind to those who are kind. She led some children of the Weaver (people “strong in the blood”) here in search of a safe valley that she had seen in her visions. They had tried many places before settling here in prosperity.   At this point, she says that if we are looking for a place to make our home, they would be happy to share. She seems especially respectful of the idea that elves may have been here first, which is remarkable.   When asked about their benediction to the shade, she tells us that the Weaver weaves not only warm blankets and clothes, but curtains and awnings to protect her children from the blistering sun. It seems entirely unrelated to elves and the Empress, but in combination with the kindness present in her village, I am more than willing to take it as a sign.   I tell her about the Empress and how elves share a similar benediction. Benignly, she asks if the Empress serves the Weaver. Part of me wonders how she would react if the question were asked in reverse, but I answer calmly. I don’t think there is any relation, but perhaps they would be friends. Their legends say that their gods saved the human race from bondage underneath the Master (who I think is related to the Beast, though I’m not sure how). The human gods, apparently, are often depicted as enormous luminous beings with wings - a far-cry from the very clear knowledge I have of the Empress.   Moira asks if we would be willing to help her translate a sign for the village entrance - one to welcome elves, as well as humans, into the shade.   With the rest of the day, we walk back to the statue. With Moira’s blessing, I look into the past of this place using the Osyr magic.   I see the statue carved from a single natural pillar of rock. Another matching statue ought to sit a little ways away, with a blue gem. I see that it has been covered by a landslide, but it would have held a scroll and quill like this one would hold a harp. The blue-gemmed statue (“poet” I think) has magic as well, and I can feel it dormant beneath the ground.   The surrounding land once held thousands of elves as peacefully as it holds these few hundred humans. The hillside was covered in terraced agriculture and happiness. There are no signs of the Empress.   Moira asks us to stay longer and make this a welcoming place for elves as well. As tempting as it is, we can’t. We’ll stay for night and that already feels both too short and too long...this place is another link in the chain we are laying across the countryside to lead people home.