Isn't it just? I love it.
Cold Winds Blowing (ASOIAF Celestial Forge)
- Thread starter TheBrokenLaw
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Interlude: Lorni, Nakanos
Lorni strode confidently out of the Lodge, the aftereffects of the time-stretching trance fading quickly. When he'd volunteered to join this class of Maia's, he had figured it would be as useless as Symon's attempts to teach writing.
It wasn't anything against the old man, but he was a Southerner and a Crow besides. When he'd tried to teach writing, back after Wyck had pulled him out of the snow and he'd recovered from the fever from his maiming, the maester had an insufferable attitude. After a moonturn of trying, they'd all decided that he was more useful as a healer than a teacher.
Leaning up against the wall, Lorni took a deep breath. It was growing colder today, and the sky had clouded over in the time they'd been in the lodge, however long that truly was. It was hard to tell, even with the experience he'd had prior. As the moments passed, the memories of his time in Maia's class fell together, until finally, it seemed as though it had only been a few hours.
Those who were part of the so-called planning group seemed to handle it much more readily. Already, Herrick was making japes and moving on as though nothing had happened. Those like Lorni, who'd only been a participant on a few occasions, were the next to recover, while those who'd never been a part of it before were still uncertainly looking around in confusion.
He shook his head, shaking loose his sluggish thoughts. At least Maia was a better teacher than Symon. She reminded him of how his father had taught him how to hunt, working at his own pace, making sure that Lorni really understood before moving on to the next. Then, there were the many occasions where those who were further advanced would help those lagging behind. He'd not understood why at first, though he'd quickly found trying to teach others helped him better understand the topic at hand.
Still, he wasn't entirely sure what the point of it all was. They'd lived well enough without needing to know their letters and numbers, and he didn't think he'd ever really bother using them anyway. Really, it was the thought that they were learning what was kept special for the kneeler lords that convinced him to go along with it in the first place, and he figured a couple of hours was worth that amusement.
"Lorni," a voice he knew well drew him out of his thoughts. Teagj leaned up against the wall next to him, "I'm getting some people together to go out and bring some more folks back. Could use you if you want to come along."
"May as well," Lorni shrugged, "Been getting too comfortable lately anyway."
The Chieftain grinned, "Aye, a warm place to sleep at night, warm clothes, and warm food? Making us soft, it is. Well, we're packing light and going upriver." His grin turned to a frown, "Don't spread this around, but last time we were out, four of the five villages we checked were empty. She told me about Han's Ford, said it was empty aside from a wight that ambushed her, and we stopped there. It was like she said, and we found the body in the snow, cut nearly in two." He dragged a finger across his chest from the right, stopping over his heart. "You saw what that blade of hers did to the slavers, and that cut was the same."
Lorni grimaced, "And the other villages?"
Teagj shook his head, "No dead, walking or otherwise, just empty. Like no one had lived there for years. Most everything that could be taken was gone, so we figure they picked up and left, but…" He shrugged, "It's damn eerie. So, we're going to check up with whoever's still living on the river, anyone we can find. Bring them back here."
"More mouths to feed," Lorni said, "But better alive than taken by the Others."
Teagj clapped him on the shoulder, "Good man. We'll head out tomorrow morning."
They were interrupted by Maia walking out of the Lodge, a small group of people walking with her. Symon, Grenwin, and the others were closer to the witch than anyone else. She broke off whatever she was saying to the Crow to give Lorni and Taegj a thankful nod.
"Thanks for coming to the class," She said, "I know it's not something usually done, and I appreciate the effort given."
Lorni still didn't know what to make of her. He'd outright accused her of the worst kinds of magic and tried to stir up others against her, and she didn't even seem to remember he'd done it. She just treated him like anyone else, and he couldn't tell if she held a grudge or not.
"Aye, well, thought I'd see what it was about," he replied after a moment's hesitation, "Suppose it was worth it."
He could feel Taegj's smirk, even without looking at the man. "Whaddaya think those lordlings below the wall would think if they heard we knew our letters as well as any of them? Couple more days of that, ain't that what you said?"
The witch made a gesture with her hand, holding it level before her and wobbling it from side to side. "Maybe more than that. I, ah, underestimated how much work it was. But hey, by this time next year, you'll probably be the most educated people in the world!"
Symon grimaced, pressing his lips to a thin line. Lorni didn't think she was saying it in jest, but it was hard to tell given how often she said something mad and followed it with a laugh. She wasn't laughing now, but she was smiling, and he'd learned that probably meant she didn't mean it seriously.
She waved towards the wheelhouse she'd built. "Anyway, we have a lump of iron to take apart. Don't suppose either of you have any experience extracting metal from stone?"
He and Taegj shared a glance, "No, but if you need a couple more hands, we can help out." Lorni figured that this was probably something it'd be damn useful to know. Most metalwork above the Wall was done by the Thenns, and they rarely traded away their bronze.
Besides, Maia would explain everything being done to take the iron out of the ore, at least if he asked. Writing might not be useful, but this was what the Southerners did, and iron weapons taken during raids below the Wall were a precious resource.
The Chief shook his head, "I've got other things to be about today." He said it bluntly, and Lorni thought it was a challenge to see if she'd press the matter.
"Alright, that's fine." She said, oblivious to the subtle challenge.
They were still getting a feel for her, figuring out how far she thought the title of Queen Beyond the Wall meant for authority. Little challenges like these would drive any kneeler lordling into a rage, Lorni figured, given how they overreacted to simple raids. Instead, she took things in stride, almost as well as any wildling. Granted, she never bared a weapon to an insult or a challenge. Considering that he'd watched her rip an elder tree out of the ground by waving her arms at it, roots and all, he was genuinely thankful for that.
Her reaction to the Taking of that hornfoot woman had scared the piss out of him, and he'd been absolutely certain for a moment that she was going to rip Yalt apart like that she'd done to that tree. Even those who hadn't witnessed that had been terrified, but after what she'd said had finally sunk in, everyone had mostly relaxed. Exile, she'd said, not death by witchery.
Taegj leaned in, whispering in his ear, "Tomorrow morn, remember." The older man gave Lorni a clap on the shoulder before walking away.
Lorni fell in with the group as they walked, listening to the witch queen say nonsense. Whatever a mechanical or a chemical was, he didn't know, but the way Symon nodded and replied with words just as arcane made him think it meant something.
Whatever he'd expected of making iron, he'd not expected to be handed a hammer and told to smash charcoal into small chunks. He, Herrick, and Grenwin worked on that for what seemed like hours as Symon and Maia put together what they called a bloomery furnace. Part of him wondered why the witch didn't just break up the charcoal like she was the iron, shredding the large boulder sitting near the forge into fine particles. Then again, whatever she was doing with that seemed to be taking a while, and they'd managed to break down enough charcoal to form a sizeable pile by the time half the ore was rendered down.
She had them mix the charcoal and rock sand together, pour a good amount into the top of the furnace, and light the bottom before sealing it, leaving a small hole. After that, it seemed to take a little while before a small gout of fire began to emit from the furnace top and a deep orange glow from the air hole.
For hours, they kept beating charcoal, mixing it with the mineral sand, and pouring it into the top of the furnace. It was fascinating to watch as the contents gradually rendered down over time, making room for more of the fuel mixture, and Lorni was reminded of the way ice seemed to melt. He'd look away, and looking back a few moments later, the charcoal level had fallen just a touch.
The flame itself was fascinating, turning nearly translucent with only traces of orange tinting it. It was burning hotter than anything he'd felt before, even standing feet away.
Finally, after the sun had very nearly fallen beneath the treetops, the witch was satisfied. She bade them all to stand back, while Symon doffed a heavy set of leathers. He picked up a set of large tongs, made of stone like it seemed many of Maia's latest creations were, and nodded his readiness.
In a moment, the bottom of the furnace cracked, and a thin stream of orange light dripped from the newly formed hole.
"Just slag," Symon said, answering their unasked question, "Open it wider so I can pull out the charcoal."
The hole widened further, peeling back like Lorni would skin a rabbit. Symon reached in with the tongs, pulling out charcoal onto the ground. Steam rose from the soil, and tiny fires flickered around the stream of liquid. The heat was intense, enough to make them all step back, and Lorni could clearly make out the sweat beading the back of Symon's balding head.
He rifled around the bottom of the furnace with the tongs, finally pulling out a hunk of material, glowing orange with edges cooling to black in the chill air. He laughed, "Aye, we've got some bloom here." Picking up the chunk with his tongs, he brought it over to the great hammer.
The witch moved over to the set of levers sticking out of a large box set near the wall, waiting for Symon to give the word. At the Crow's order, she pulled a lever and the hammer fell with a great thump, chunks of the bloom splattering away. Wasting no time, Symon turned it about with the tongs, rotating it and beating it down using the timing of the hammer.
They watched in rapt attention as they worked the bloom long after the sun fell, finally resulting in a mostly even bar, about as long and wide as Lorni's hand, and twice as thick.
"Moment of truth," Symon said after putting down the tongs and taking a small hammer in hand. He leaned over the bar, turning his head to listen as he struck it time and time again, finally grunting in approval. "Aye, it's been wrought well, and it's pure enough for tools." A grin broke out on his face, "Tis iron for true."
Lorni was quiet for a moment, disbelieving. It seemed the others were just as stunned, and all at once cheers broke out. Even the witch clapped, beaming happily. The lodge was one thing, but this? Lorni knew that even if Symon and Maia were taken from them, everyone else had watched how it had been done. Even if they couldn't crush the ore as finely, they could break it as well as they could, and finding more was just a matter of finding rocks that matched what they had. The bloomery, he figured could be made of clay, especially if they only needed it whole for a single use. They already knew charcoal, and crushing it finely wasn't difficult to remember.
Oh, he knew there was more to learn about how it was done, but they'd enough now to figure it out on their own.
They made their way back to the Lodge, just in time for the evening meal. News of what they'd managed was spread around, and it seemed everyone had some idea of what to do with the iron. Tools, weapons, armor, and all manner of useful trinkets besides. Even if they were still behind what the kneelers were capable of, there was a very real feeling that they had the chance to catch up now, as long as they weren't killed by the Watch, or taken by the Others.
However it ended up shaking out, it was cause for celebration now. Lorni lamented the lack of good drink, the fermented sheep's milk Ellir's people had brought not have lasted more than a few days.
Even without drink, the Lodge seemed full of life. He clapped along to the song of Bael the Bard that a few people performed together, laughed uproariously with many others at an impromptu sumo match, and partook of the generous portions of roast elk shoulder and day stew.
Why not celebrate, he thought, We live another day; Isn't that enough cause?
Lorni figured it ought to be, and he figured most everyone here probably thought the same thing. He'd head out with Taegj in the morning, and when they returned, they'd celebrate all the harder.
Eventually, things wound down, and people sought rest after a long day. The fires were tamped down, braziers extinguished, and a night watch set. Lorni had no trouble falling asleep after wrapping himself up in his bedding, fulfilled after another good day.
***
Nakanos Iranys stood on a high balcony, sipping a goblet of chilled pear brandy and watching the sunset over his city of Myr.
A day put to good use, he mused, tapping beringed fingers against the finely carved marble balustrade. Varoros had been amenable to joining his bloc, and Nakanos was certain that he'd be able to make his play on the Triarchy within the year.
"This will be yours, if you've the ability to take it. Nothing is beyond our reach."
His father's final lesson to him, and one that Nakanos had taken deeply to heart. His father's father had been a mere sellsword, his father a reputable merchant, and Nakanos himself?
"Magister Iranys?" A melodic voice spoke from the doorway leading to his study.
Magister Iranys. He'd taken what he desired, and he'd never stop so long as he lived.
Turning, he regarded the young woman who interrupted his musings.
She was slender, a head shorter than he, and possessed the classical Valyrian beauty, barely marred by the slave's tattoo above her right eye.
"Yes, Saryl?" He spoke calmly, confident that his favored servant wouldn't interrupt him without good cause.
"Master Sanyr has returned, Magister. He's been shown all courtesy and is relaxing in the Laester room."
Her voice was steady, a far cry from when he'd first purchased her. His staff had trained her well, and Nakanos was certainly pleased that his investment had not gone to waste.
"Very good," he replied, striding past her as she moved aside deferentially. She fell in behind and beside him, the very image of the ideal master-servant, as he set a good pace to the drawing room where his brother awaited.
Nakanos could admit to himself that he was curious as to why Adaro had returned to Myr so early. He'd not expected him for another two months at the very least, but there were many potential causes for the expedition to have been aborted. Tainted food, unexpected resistance from the savages, sickness, the list went on. That his brother had returned, and that he was alive, implied it was a minor issue that could be rectified in the future.
He halted before the grand doors to the smallest and most personal drawing room of his manse, Saryl opening them and bowing as he passed.
"Captain Sanyr!" Nakanos spoke with genuine cheer as he approached the high-backed chairs before the wide window, "Welcome back to Myr."
A figure stood from where he had been reclining, and Nakanos almost stopped in surprise. The man was gaunt and haggard, with lanky hair and a patchy beard rendering him almost unrecognizable. While it was most certainly Adaro, Nakanos had never seen the man affected so greatly.
"Magister Iranys," Adaro spoke warmly, and Nakanos was relieved that his brother's voice was still strong and confident.
He stepped forward, arms outstretched, and embraced his dearest friend. "It's good to see you safe and hale, Adaro."
Captain Sanyr, Adaro, returned the embrace with warmth. "Truly, it is good to be back among the civilized."
Nakanos gave a firm squeeze with his arms before releasing the haggard man, giving a short sniff and theatrically wincing. "Well, we civilized peoples do tend to bathe. Been among the savages for too long, eh?"
Adaro chuckled, "I hadn't known your sensibilities had grown so delicate! What happened to the man who rubbed himself down with horseshit as a, what was it you called it, a disguise?"
Nakanos brushed his hands down the front of his fine cotton doublet, "It worked, didn't it? Got those Lyseni right where we needed them to be."
Grinning, Adaro nodded, "I can still see the look on that smug bastard's face when he heard the crossbows loose." The gaunt man nodded towards the low table, a mug and pitcher sitting on a tray. "Your staff is excellent as always. Your hospitality is always appreciated."
Nakanos smiled, "Pride of Myr, I say. You know you're always welcome under my roof, my brother." He gestured to the chairs. "Please, let's relax. You look as though you surely need it! Tell me of the expedition, first. You've returned early and I hope no great trouble has befallen you."
They sat, Adaro scratching his unkempt chin with his left hand, letting the comment on his appearance go. "Trouble of a kind, yes. Let me begin at the beginning of the journey."
Nakanos nodded, waiting as the other man gathered his thoughts.
"It began well. We had fine weather sailing across the Narrow Sea and had little trouble sailing north along the Westerosi coast. We did encounter what we thought to be a Braavosi privateer early but were able to evade after it made no moves to pursue."
Nakanos pursed his lips. The Braavosi were a thorn in his side at the best of times, and there had been some concern that Adaro's vessel would be intercepted by them. If he had, the man and his crew would surely have had to fight the Braavosi off, lest they take his ship for their own.
"Good that they were of no issue, then." He murmured, pouring himself a cup of cool water from the pitcher.
Adaro nodded, "Quite. I believe we would comport ourselves well against common pirates, and the Braavosi are little better. Better to not have had to test those waters." He paused, "Our supplies were adequate for the cold further north, but we will need warmer clothing if we are to make another expedition. We needed to layer our clothing, and it hampered us rather badly."
Nakanos nodded, "We can address that later, my friend. Do continue."
"Yes, well. We sailed along the coast and discovered a rather sizeable peninsula that projects from the mainland into the Shivering Sea, and at the end of that peninsula, we found a natural bay. We had to weather there for a few nights, and the local forest seemed devoid of the savages. Hunting was plentiful, and I believe it would make an excellent waystation." He sipped his water, "I believe it to be Hotar's bay, as the description matches nearly perfectly. The cliffs above the bay held a great number of caves, as Hotar described, that howled as the wind blew."
Nakanos thumbed his chin thoughtfully, remembering the centuries-old memoirs of the Pentoshi magister-turned-explorer. "Hotar described an island, did he not?"
Adaro shrugged, "Could have been that he didn't sail south enough to realize it was a peninsula. The gulf beyond is quite wide, easily three days of sailing before the eastern shore becomes visible after leaving Hotar's Bay. The mapmaker you lent has been working on putting our discoveries to parchment."
"Very good. What of our primary goal?" Nakano inquired, eager to get to the thrust of the matter. Yet, as Adaro set down his water, he noticed for the first time that he seemed short a finger. "What happened to your hand?"
Adaro's eyes turned hard and flinty, glimmering with a passion Nakanos had rarely seen from the man these last years. He held his hand out, clenching the remaining fingers, staring at the empty space.
"An abomination. We had found the wide river Hotar described, sailing half a day upriver and establishing camp on the southern bank." He grimaced, "Our scouts returned after a sennight, having found several smaller groups of savages and a much larger band. We took several from nearby groups, six and ten in total, with no casualties."
"A fair number," Nakanos murmured. Malabar hadn't been wrong that those untouched lands held great wealth, especially given how much more such exotics went for in the circles Nakanos traveled.
Adaro nodded with a dark expression. "Yes. It had appeared that we would face no great resistance so long as we held an advantage in numbers. However…" He trailed off, staring at his missing appendage.
"We encountered something horrific. A small settlement of savages on the banks of the river, one that seemed an ideal target with little in the way of defenses. I had thirty good men with me when we made our approach."
Nakanos was listening intently, setting aside his drink and watching his brother's face, noting the intensity of his shifting expressions.
"It started ideally, our appearance clearly surprising them. If they had any defensive plans, they were not apparent as the brutes merely gathered together to fend us off." Adaro sneered, "I noted several who carried unstrung bows and threw them aside for wooden knives."
Nakanos gave a short laugh, "Brutes, indeed."
"We approached slowly, careful to not present too great a threat and luring them to assault us. They acted as we expected, and our crossbowmen were quick to send bolts into those that seemed the greatest martial threat. That… Yes, that was where things went wrong."
Leaning forward, Nakanos was intrigued. "Wrong?"
Adaro nodded, "Yes. The abomination, the… Demon, for I can think of no word that better describes what I witnessed, revealed itself. It bore the skin of a girl, and with a mere touch returned the dead to life. The first brute that fell came to his feet as though nothing had happened. The battle was still in our favor, as far as I could determine, and we had managed to separate several of the savages from the mass."
His eyes stared at something far beyond the walls of the drawing room as he spoke, "The demon bore a blade that cut with no resistance. Not even Valyrian steel will cut through a man's arm without being caught on bone, and yet the demons' cursed steel did just that with no apparent effort. It wasn't even swung. The abomination fell forward, blade aloft, and it cut through men as easily as it cut through the wooden shafts of our man-catchers. I was working to subdue one of the savages we'd separated from the others when it rushed at us. My crossbow was handy, and I was able to loose a bolt right into the thing's breast, and yet it kept coming. Then… It put a hand on my shoulder, and the next thing I knew I was somewhere else."
"That is… Disturbing." Nakanos said in near disbelief. Adaro would not lie to him, and if he spoke, he spoke the truth as he knew. That alone was why Nakanos did not dismiss such a fantastic tale.
"Disturbing is one way of describing it. I woke in one of their hovels, stripped nude, and with the abomination kneeling next to me. It had its hand on my shoulder. Try as I might, I could not move a single muscle." Adaro's gaze turned haunted, "I cannot begin to tell you how it feels to be unable to move anything and yet be aware. Not even my eyes would obey me, stuck staring forward." He shuddered in remembrance of genuine terror.
Nakanos remained silent, letting his friend gather his thoughts. It clearly took Adaro a great effort, and he was loath to interrupt.
"It spoke in barely comprehensible Westerosi Common. It… Asked if I knew what it said, and in the next moment I was able to move my eyes and mouth, but only those. It plied me with questions, and when I refused… Nakanos, I felt it controlling me like a mummer's puppet, my arm moving to its whims and not my own. I watched as my hand rose, and my fingers fell off. They just fell, with no pain, no blood, only seamless skin where they once sat. Look!"
Adaro held his hand out for Nakanos to examine, and the magister leaned forward to look. Yes, the man's skin where his finger used to be was whole and unbroken, bereft of the scarring he'd seen on others who had been maimed.
"It was my index and thumb that fell, and you can see that there is nothing wrong with the thumb. It made me look over at the others that had been captured, all in the same position I was, eyes closed as if deeply asleep."
Nakanos turned Adaro's hand over, looking closely at the man's thumb and where it joined his hand. As his brother had said, there was truly nothing to indicate anything had happened to it. Yet, while his tale was unbelievable, his finger was missing in a way he'd never seen before.
Adaro continued, "It returned my thumb to me, and then… time seemed to skip forward again, just as it had during the fight. Suddenly, the hovel was full of raving savages, and I still could not move. I thought they would kill us right then and there, but they did not." He paused, "They told us to walk to the Wall, without clothes or supplies. So, we walked, expecting an arrow to the back at any second."
He lifted his leg, pulling off his boot. "I lost a few toes to frostbite, and it wasn't long before I couldn't continue. I remember stumbling in the snow, laying at the base of one of those peculiarly carved trees, watching as my ever so loyal crewmates didn't even give me a glance, let alone stopping to help."
Nakanos was deeply concerned now, "How is it you still live?"
Adaro shrugged, "I don't know. One moment, the snow seemed like a warm blanket and I was falling into a comfortable sleep, and the next I was wrapped in some sort of fur blanket lying near a warm fire. There was a man, wearing the black of the Night's Watch, but his features were covered by a hood. It seemed unbelievable, as those rangers tend to fight to kill us on sight, so I figured the man didn't know who I was. He was alone, and though I thought he was waiting for his compatriots, none came. He spoke little, even as he fed me. His hands, though… I thought he wore black gloves, but as my vision recovered, I saw they were uncovered, but turned black and cold like a frozen corpse."
Nakanos blinked in surprise, "What magic is this?"
"I know not, and the man had not the look or bearing of a Qarthi mage to him. Something unique to those frozen lands, perhaps. Still, I owe my life to his intervention. After I'd recovered sufficiently, he assisted me back to the camp, and yet he refused to allow himself to be seen by the crewmen. After that, I waited until the scouts returned and ordered that we sail home. No trouble on the return journey, and the product is still safely ensconced aboard."
Leaning back, Nakanos regarded his brother. His appearance lent credence to a difficult experience, and fantastical as the story was, Nakano couldn't detect any deception in the other man's bearing.
"Well. Well! That is quite a tale. You're home and safe, and that is what is most important. I'll take possession of the product you've captured, and it shouldn't be long before it sells for a fine price." Nakanos said, forcing joviality into his voice.
Adaro nodded, "Good. We should discuss another... Expedition."
Nakanos was momentarily surprised, but Adaro wasn't the type to let an experience like that stop him. "Yes, I suppose so. What of this abomination you spoke of? I should hope you will steer far clear of its territory."
The gaunt man clenched his fists, "No. We will kill it, destroy those it has tainted. I watched it bleed, and if it bleeds, it can die."
"My brother, is that wise?" Nakanos asked soothingly.
"Wise? Perhaps not, but it is necessary." Adaro spoke with passion belying his appearance, "A threat like that will hamper any expeditions to come, and so we should take care of it early and clear the way. Its roost on the river is a problem should we attempt to sail inland, and other groups of the brutes will be close to the water."
Nakanos nodded slowly, "You are not wrong, but I fear that with the capabilities you have described, this abomination will not be easily rooted out. Is there truly no other path inland?"
Adaro shook his head, "Not that we found. That one river was the only major waterway we could find before the icebergs became too much of a threat to sail further north. No, if we want any long-term presence with reach inland, we will need to secure the river."
Nakanos stroked his clean-shaven chin, "Unfortunate. I trust you, my brother, and I trust your judgment in this. Very well, let us discuss this more on the morrow. Tonight, I believe we should celebrate your safe return and success, no?"
Adaro, jaw working, finally relaxed and gave a slight smile. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Nakanos."
The conversation turned towards safer topics, fond recollections of their mutual past as sellswords. Nakanos played the gracious host, genuinely grateful for the return of his dear friend, yet doubt gnawed at him.
Such a lust for revenge, he couldn't help but think, Will he conquer it, or will it consume him?
It wasn't anything against the old man, but he was a Southerner and a Crow besides. When he'd tried to teach writing, back after Wyck had pulled him out of the snow and he'd recovered from the fever from his maiming, the maester had an insufferable attitude. After a moonturn of trying, they'd all decided that he was more useful as a healer than a teacher.
Leaning up against the wall, Lorni took a deep breath. It was growing colder today, and the sky had clouded over in the time they'd been in the lodge, however long that truly was. It was hard to tell, even with the experience he'd had prior. As the moments passed, the memories of his time in Maia's class fell together, until finally, it seemed as though it had only been a few hours.
Those who were part of the so-called planning group seemed to handle it much more readily. Already, Herrick was making japes and moving on as though nothing had happened. Those like Lorni, who'd only been a participant on a few occasions, were the next to recover, while those who'd never been a part of it before were still uncertainly looking around in confusion.
He shook his head, shaking loose his sluggish thoughts. At least Maia was a better teacher than Symon. She reminded him of how his father had taught him how to hunt, working at his own pace, making sure that Lorni really understood before moving on to the next. Then, there were the many occasions where those who were further advanced would help those lagging behind. He'd not understood why at first, though he'd quickly found trying to teach others helped him better understand the topic at hand.
Still, he wasn't entirely sure what the point of it all was. They'd lived well enough without needing to know their letters and numbers, and he didn't think he'd ever really bother using them anyway. Really, it was the thought that they were learning what was kept special for the kneeler lords that convinced him to go along with it in the first place, and he figured a couple of hours was worth that amusement.
"Lorni," a voice he knew well drew him out of his thoughts. Teagj leaned up against the wall next to him, "I'm getting some people together to go out and bring some more folks back. Could use you if you want to come along."
"May as well," Lorni shrugged, "Been getting too comfortable lately anyway."
The Chieftain grinned, "Aye, a warm place to sleep at night, warm clothes, and warm food? Making us soft, it is. Well, we're packing light and going upriver." His grin turned to a frown, "Don't spread this around, but last time we were out, four of the five villages we checked were empty. She told me about Han's Ford, said it was empty aside from a wight that ambushed her, and we stopped there. It was like she said, and we found the body in the snow, cut nearly in two." He dragged a finger across his chest from the right, stopping over his heart. "You saw what that blade of hers did to the slavers, and that cut was the same."
Lorni grimaced, "And the other villages?"
Teagj shook his head, "No dead, walking or otherwise, just empty. Like no one had lived there for years. Most everything that could be taken was gone, so we figure they picked up and left, but…" He shrugged, "It's damn eerie. So, we're going to check up with whoever's still living on the river, anyone we can find. Bring them back here."
"More mouths to feed," Lorni said, "But better alive than taken by the Others."
Teagj clapped him on the shoulder, "Good man. We'll head out tomorrow morning."
They were interrupted by Maia walking out of the Lodge, a small group of people walking with her. Symon, Grenwin, and the others were closer to the witch than anyone else. She broke off whatever she was saying to the Crow to give Lorni and Taegj a thankful nod.
"Thanks for coming to the class," She said, "I know it's not something usually done, and I appreciate the effort given."
Lorni still didn't know what to make of her. He'd outright accused her of the worst kinds of magic and tried to stir up others against her, and she didn't even seem to remember he'd done it. She just treated him like anyone else, and he couldn't tell if she held a grudge or not.
"Aye, well, thought I'd see what it was about," he replied after a moment's hesitation, "Suppose it was worth it."
He could feel Taegj's smirk, even without looking at the man. "Whaddaya think those lordlings below the wall would think if they heard we knew our letters as well as any of them? Couple more days of that, ain't that what you said?"
The witch made a gesture with her hand, holding it level before her and wobbling it from side to side. "Maybe more than that. I, ah, underestimated how much work it was. But hey, by this time next year, you'll probably be the most educated people in the world!"
Symon grimaced, pressing his lips to a thin line. Lorni didn't think she was saying it in jest, but it was hard to tell given how often she said something mad and followed it with a laugh. She wasn't laughing now, but she was smiling, and he'd learned that probably meant she didn't mean it seriously.
She waved towards the wheelhouse she'd built. "Anyway, we have a lump of iron to take apart. Don't suppose either of you have any experience extracting metal from stone?"
He and Taegj shared a glance, "No, but if you need a couple more hands, we can help out." Lorni figured that this was probably something it'd be damn useful to know. Most metalwork above the Wall was done by the Thenns, and they rarely traded away their bronze.
Besides, Maia would explain everything being done to take the iron out of the ore, at least if he asked. Writing might not be useful, but this was what the Southerners did, and iron weapons taken during raids below the Wall were a precious resource.
The Chief shook his head, "I've got other things to be about today." He said it bluntly, and Lorni thought it was a challenge to see if she'd press the matter.
"Alright, that's fine." She said, oblivious to the subtle challenge.
They were still getting a feel for her, figuring out how far she thought the title of Queen Beyond the Wall meant for authority. Little challenges like these would drive any kneeler lordling into a rage, Lorni figured, given how they overreacted to simple raids. Instead, she took things in stride, almost as well as any wildling. Granted, she never bared a weapon to an insult or a challenge. Considering that he'd watched her rip an elder tree out of the ground by waving her arms at it, roots and all, he was genuinely thankful for that.
Her reaction to the Taking of that hornfoot woman had scared the piss out of him, and he'd been absolutely certain for a moment that she was going to rip Yalt apart like that she'd done to that tree. Even those who hadn't witnessed that had been terrified, but after what she'd said had finally sunk in, everyone had mostly relaxed. Exile, she'd said, not death by witchery.
Taegj leaned in, whispering in his ear, "Tomorrow morn, remember." The older man gave Lorni a clap on the shoulder before walking away.
Lorni fell in with the group as they walked, listening to the witch queen say nonsense. Whatever a mechanical or a chemical was, he didn't know, but the way Symon nodded and replied with words just as arcane made him think it meant something.
Whatever he'd expected of making iron, he'd not expected to be handed a hammer and told to smash charcoal into small chunks. He, Herrick, and Grenwin worked on that for what seemed like hours as Symon and Maia put together what they called a bloomery furnace. Part of him wondered why the witch didn't just break up the charcoal like she was the iron, shredding the large boulder sitting near the forge into fine particles. Then again, whatever she was doing with that seemed to be taking a while, and they'd managed to break down enough charcoal to form a sizeable pile by the time half the ore was rendered down.
She had them mix the charcoal and rock sand together, pour a good amount into the top of the furnace, and light the bottom before sealing it, leaving a small hole. After that, it seemed to take a little while before a small gout of fire began to emit from the furnace top and a deep orange glow from the air hole.
For hours, they kept beating charcoal, mixing it with the mineral sand, and pouring it into the top of the furnace. It was fascinating to watch as the contents gradually rendered down over time, making room for more of the fuel mixture, and Lorni was reminded of the way ice seemed to melt. He'd look away, and looking back a few moments later, the charcoal level had fallen just a touch.
The flame itself was fascinating, turning nearly translucent with only traces of orange tinting it. It was burning hotter than anything he'd felt before, even standing feet away.
Finally, after the sun had very nearly fallen beneath the treetops, the witch was satisfied. She bade them all to stand back, while Symon doffed a heavy set of leathers. He picked up a set of large tongs, made of stone like it seemed many of Maia's latest creations were, and nodded his readiness.
In a moment, the bottom of the furnace cracked, and a thin stream of orange light dripped from the newly formed hole.
"Just slag," Symon said, answering their unasked question, "Open it wider so I can pull out the charcoal."
The hole widened further, peeling back like Lorni would skin a rabbit. Symon reached in with the tongs, pulling out charcoal onto the ground. Steam rose from the soil, and tiny fires flickered around the stream of liquid. The heat was intense, enough to make them all step back, and Lorni could clearly make out the sweat beading the back of Symon's balding head.
He rifled around the bottom of the furnace with the tongs, finally pulling out a hunk of material, glowing orange with edges cooling to black in the chill air. He laughed, "Aye, we've got some bloom here." Picking up the chunk with his tongs, he brought it over to the great hammer.
The witch moved over to the set of levers sticking out of a large box set near the wall, waiting for Symon to give the word. At the Crow's order, she pulled a lever and the hammer fell with a great thump, chunks of the bloom splattering away. Wasting no time, Symon turned it about with the tongs, rotating it and beating it down using the timing of the hammer.
They watched in rapt attention as they worked the bloom long after the sun fell, finally resulting in a mostly even bar, about as long and wide as Lorni's hand, and twice as thick.
"Moment of truth," Symon said after putting down the tongs and taking a small hammer in hand. He leaned over the bar, turning his head to listen as he struck it time and time again, finally grunting in approval. "Aye, it's been wrought well, and it's pure enough for tools." A grin broke out on his face, "Tis iron for true."
Lorni was quiet for a moment, disbelieving. It seemed the others were just as stunned, and all at once cheers broke out. Even the witch clapped, beaming happily. The lodge was one thing, but this? Lorni knew that even if Symon and Maia were taken from them, everyone else had watched how it had been done. Even if they couldn't crush the ore as finely, they could break it as well as they could, and finding more was just a matter of finding rocks that matched what they had. The bloomery, he figured could be made of clay, especially if they only needed it whole for a single use. They already knew charcoal, and crushing it finely wasn't difficult to remember.
Oh, he knew there was more to learn about how it was done, but they'd enough now to figure it out on their own.
They made their way back to the Lodge, just in time for the evening meal. News of what they'd managed was spread around, and it seemed everyone had some idea of what to do with the iron. Tools, weapons, armor, and all manner of useful trinkets besides. Even if they were still behind what the kneelers were capable of, there was a very real feeling that they had the chance to catch up now, as long as they weren't killed by the Watch, or taken by the Others.
However it ended up shaking out, it was cause for celebration now. Lorni lamented the lack of good drink, the fermented sheep's milk Ellir's people had brought not have lasted more than a few days.
Even without drink, the Lodge seemed full of life. He clapped along to the song of Bael the Bard that a few people performed together, laughed uproariously with many others at an impromptu sumo match, and partook of the generous portions of roast elk shoulder and day stew.
Why not celebrate, he thought, We live another day; Isn't that enough cause?
Lorni figured it ought to be, and he figured most everyone here probably thought the same thing. He'd head out with Taegj in the morning, and when they returned, they'd celebrate all the harder.
Eventually, things wound down, and people sought rest after a long day. The fires were tamped down, braziers extinguished, and a night watch set. Lorni had no trouble falling asleep after wrapping himself up in his bedding, fulfilled after another good day.
***
Nakanos Iranys stood on a high balcony, sipping a goblet of chilled pear brandy and watching the sunset over his city of Myr.
A day put to good use, he mused, tapping beringed fingers against the finely carved marble balustrade. Varoros had been amenable to joining his bloc, and Nakanos was certain that he'd be able to make his play on the Triarchy within the year.
"This will be yours, if you've the ability to take it. Nothing is beyond our reach."
His father's final lesson to him, and one that Nakanos had taken deeply to heart. His father's father had been a mere sellsword, his father a reputable merchant, and Nakanos himself?
"Magister Iranys?" A melodic voice spoke from the doorway leading to his study.
Magister Iranys. He'd taken what he desired, and he'd never stop so long as he lived.
Turning, he regarded the young woman who interrupted his musings.
She was slender, a head shorter than he, and possessed the classical Valyrian beauty, barely marred by the slave's tattoo above her right eye.
"Yes, Saryl?" He spoke calmly, confident that his favored servant wouldn't interrupt him without good cause.
"Master Sanyr has returned, Magister. He's been shown all courtesy and is relaxing in the Laester room."
Her voice was steady, a far cry from when he'd first purchased her. His staff had trained her well, and Nakanos was certainly pleased that his investment had not gone to waste.
"Very good," he replied, striding past her as she moved aside deferentially. She fell in behind and beside him, the very image of the ideal master-servant, as he set a good pace to the drawing room where his brother awaited.
Nakanos could admit to himself that he was curious as to why Adaro had returned to Myr so early. He'd not expected him for another two months at the very least, but there were many potential causes for the expedition to have been aborted. Tainted food, unexpected resistance from the savages, sickness, the list went on. That his brother had returned, and that he was alive, implied it was a minor issue that could be rectified in the future.
He halted before the grand doors to the smallest and most personal drawing room of his manse, Saryl opening them and bowing as he passed.
"Captain Sanyr!" Nakanos spoke with genuine cheer as he approached the high-backed chairs before the wide window, "Welcome back to Myr."
A figure stood from where he had been reclining, and Nakanos almost stopped in surprise. The man was gaunt and haggard, with lanky hair and a patchy beard rendering him almost unrecognizable. While it was most certainly Adaro, Nakanos had never seen the man affected so greatly.
"Magister Iranys," Adaro spoke warmly, and Nakanos was relieved that his brother's voice was still strong and confident.
He stepped forward, arms outstretched, and embraced his dearest friend. "It's good to see you safe and hale, Adaro."
Captain Sanyr, Adaro, returned the embrace with warmth. "Truly, it is good to be back among the civilized."
Nakanos gave a firm squeeze with his arms before releasing the haggard man, giving a short sniff and theatrically wincing. "Well, we civilized peoples do tend to bathe. Been among the savages for too long, eh?"
Adaro chuckled, "I hadn't known your sensibilities had grown so delicate! What happened to the man who rubbed himself down with horseshit as a, what was it you called it, a disguise?"
Nakanos brushed his hands down the front of his fine cotton doublet, "It worked, didn't it? Got those Lyseni right where we needed them to be."
Grinning, Adaro nodded, "I can still see the look on that smug bastard's face when he heard the crossbows loose." The gaunt man nodded towards the low table, a mug and pitcher sitting on a tray. "Your staff is excellent as always. Your hospitality is always appreciated."
Nakanos smiled, "Pride of Myr, I say. You know you're always welcome under my roof, my brother." He gestured to the chairs. "Please, let's relax. You look as though you surely need it! Tell me of the expedition, first. You've returned early and I hope no great trouble has befallen you."
They sat, Adaro scratching his unkempt chin with his left hand, letting the comment on his appearance go. "Trouble of a kind, yes. Let me begin at the beginning of the journey."
Nakanos nodded, waiting as the other man gathered his thoughts.
"It began well. We had fine weather sailing across the Narrow Sea and had little trouble sailing north along the Westerosi coast. We did encounter what we thought to be a Braavosi privateer early but were able to evade after it made no moves to pursue."
Nakanos pursed his lips. The Braavosi were a thorn in his side at the best of times, and there had been some concern that Adaro's vessel would be intercepted by them. If he had, the man and his crew would surely have had to fight the Braavosi off, lest they take his ship for their own.
"Good that they were of no issue, then." He murmured, pouring himself a cup of cool water from the pitcher.
Adaro nodded, "Quite. I believe we would comport ourselves well against common pirates, and the Braavosi are little better. Better to not have had to test those waters." He paused, "Our supplies were adequate for the cold further north, but we will need warmer clothing if we are to make another expedition. We needed to layer our clothing, and it hampered us rather badly."
Nakanos nodded, "We can address that later, my friend. Do continue."
"Yes, well. We sailed along the coast and discovered a rather sizeable peninsula that projects from the mainland into the Shivering Sea, and at the end of that peninsula, we found a natural bay. We had to weather there for a few nights, and the local forest seemed devoid of the savages. Hunting was plentiful, and I believe it would make an excellent waystation." He sipped his water, "I believe it to be Hotar's bay, as the description matches nearly perfectly. The cliffs above the bay held a great number of caves, as Hotar described, that howled as the wind blew."
Nakanos thumbed his chin thoughtfully, remembering the centuries-old memoirs of the Pentoshi magister-turned-explorer. "Hotar described an island, did he not?"
Adaro shrugged, "Could have been that he didn't sail south enough to realize it was a peninsula. The gulf beyond is quite wide, easily three days of sailing before the eastern shore becomes visible after leaving Hotar's Bay. The mapmaker you lent has been working on putting our discoveries to parchment."
"Very good. What of our primary goal?" Nakano inquired, eager to get to the thrust of the matter. Yet, as Adaro set down his water, he noticed for the first time that he seemed short a finger. "What happened to your hand?"
Adaro's eyes turned hard and flinty, glimmering with a passion Nakanos had rarely seen from the man these last years. He held his hand out, clenching the remaining fingers, staring at the empty space.
"An abomination. We had found the wide river Hotar described, sailing half a day upriver and establishing camp on the southern bank." He grimaced, "Our scouts returned after a sennight, having found several smaller groups of savages and a much larger band. We took several from nearby groups, six and ten in total, with no casualties."
"A fair number," Nakanos murmured. Malabar hadn't been wrong that those untouched lands held great wealth, especially given how much more such exotics went for in the circles Nakanos traveled.
Adaro nodded with a dark expression. "Yes. It had appeared that we would face no great resistance so long as we held an advantage in numbers. However…" He trailed off, staring at his missing appendage.
"We encountered something horrific. A small settlement of savages on the banks of the river, one that seemed an ideal target with little in the way of defenses. I had thirty good men with me when we made our approach."
Nakanos was listening intently, setting aside his drink and watching his brother's face, noting the intensity of his shifting expressions.
"It started ideally, our appearance clearly surprising them. If they had any defensive plans, they were not apparent as the brutes merely gathered together to fend us off." Adaro sneered, "I noted several who carried unstrung bows and threw them aside for wooden knives."
Nakanos gave a short laugh, "Brutes, indeed."
"We approached slowly, careful to not present too great a threat and luring them to assault us. They acted as we expected, and our crossbowmen were quick to send bolts into those that seemed the greatest martial threat. That… Yes, that was where things went wrong."
Leaning forward, Nakanos was intrigued. "Wrong?"
Adaro nodded, "Yes. The abomination, the… Demon, for I can think of no word that better describes what I witnessed, revealed itself. It bore the skin of a girl, and with a mere touch returned the dead to life. The first brute that fell came to his feet as though nothing had happened. The battle was still in our favor, as far as I could determine, and we had managed to separate several of the savages from the mass."
His eyes stared at something far beyond the walls of the drawing room as he spoke, "The demon bore a blade that cut with no resistance. Not even Valyrian steel will cut through a man's arm without being caught on bone, and yet the demons' cursed steel did just that with no apparent effort. It wasn't even swung. The abomination fell forward, blade aloft, and it cut through men as easily as it cut through the wooden shafts of our man-catchers. I was working to subdue one of the savages we'd separated from the others when it rushed at us. My crossbow was handy, and I was able to loose a bolt right into the thing's breast, and yet it kept coming. Then… It put a hand on my shoulder, and the next thing I knew I was somewhere else."
"That is… Disturbing." Nakanos said in near disbelief. Adaro would not lie to him, and if he spoke, he spoke the truth as he knew. That alone was why Nakanos did not dismiss such a fantastic tale.
"Disturbing is one way of describing it. I woke in one of their hovels, stripped nude, and with the abomination kneeling next to me. It had its hand on my shoulder. Try as I might, I could not move a single muscle." Adaro's gaze turned haunted, "I cannot begin to tell you how it feels to be unable to move anything and yet be aware. Not even my eyes would obey me, stuck staring forward." He shuddered in remembrance of genuine terror.
Nakanos remained silent, letting his friend gather his thoughts. It clearly took Adaro a great effort, and he was loath to interrupt.
"It spoke in barely comprehensible Westerosi Common. It… Asked if I knew what it said, and in the next moment I was able to move my eyes and mouth, but only those. It plied me with questions, and when I refused… Nakanos, I felt it controlling me like a mummer's puppet, my arm moving to its whims and not my own. I watched as my hand rose, and my fingers fell off. They just fell, with no pain, no blood, only seamless skin where they once sat. Look!"
Adaro held his hand out for Nakanos to examine, and the magister leaned forward to look. Yes, the man's skin where his finger used to be was whole and unbroken, bereft of the scarring he'd seen on others who had been maimed.
"It was my index and thumb that fell, and you can see that there is nothing wrong with the thumb. It made me look over at the others that had been captured, all in the same position I was, eyes closed as if deeply asleep."
Nakanos turned Adaro's hand over, looking closely at the man's thumb and where it joined his hand. As his brother had said, there was truly nothing to indicate anything had happened to it. Yet, while his tale was unbelievable, his finger was missing in a way he'd never seen before.
Adaro continued, "It returned my thumb to me, and then… time seemed to skip forward again, just as it had during the fight. Suddenly, the hovel was full of raving savages, and I still could not move. I thought they would kill us right then and there, but they did not." He paused, "They told us to walk to the Wall, without clothes or supplies. So, we walked, expecting an arrow to the back at any second."
He lifted his leg, pulling off his boot. "I lost a few toes to frostbite, and it wasn't long before I couldn't continue. I remember stumbling in the snow, laying at the base of one of those peculiarly carved trees, watching as my ever so loyal crewmates didn't even give me a glance, let alone stopping to help."
Nakanos was deeply concerned now, "How is it you still live?"
Adaro shrugged, "I don't know. One moment, the snow seemed like a warm blanket and I was falling into a comfortable sleep, and the next I was wrapped in some sort of fur blanket lying near a warm fire. There was a man, wearing the black of the Night's Watch, but his features were covered by a hood. It seemed unbelievable, as those rangers tend to fight to kill us on sight, so I figured the man didn't know who I was. He was alone, and though I thought he was waiting for his compatriots, none came. He spoke little, even as he fed me. His hands, though… I thought he wore black gloves, but as my vision recovered, I saw they were uncovered, but turned black and cold like a frozen corpse."
Nakanos blinked in surprise, "What magic is this?"
"I know not, and the man had not the look or bearing of a Qarthi mage to him. Something unique to those frozen lands, perhaps. Still, I owe my life to his intervention. After I'd recovered sufficiently, he assisted me back to the camp, and yet he refused to allow himself to be seen by the crewmen. After that, I waited until the scouts returned and ordered that we sail home. No trouble on the return journey, and the product is still safely ensconced aboard."
Leaning back, Nakanos regarded his brother. His appearance lent credence to a difficult experience, and fantastical as the story was, Nakano couldn't detect any deception in the other man's bearing.
"Well. Well! That is quite a tale. You're home and safe, and that is what is most important. I'll take possession of the product you've captured, and it shouldn't be long before it sells for a fine price." Nakanos said, forcing joviality into his voice.
Adaro nodded, "Good. We should discuss another... Expedition."
Nakanos was momentarily surprised, but Adaro wasn't the type to let an experience like that stop him. "Yes, I suppose so. What of this abomination you spoke of? I should hope you will steer far clear of its territory."
The gaunt man clenched his fists, "No. We will kill it, destroy those it has tainted. I watched it bleed, and if it bleeds, it can die."
"My brother, is that wise?" Nakanos asked soothingly.
"Wise? Perhaps not, but it is necessary." Adaro spoke with passion belying his appearance, "A threat like that will hamper any expeditions to come, and so we should take care of it early and clear the way. Its roost on the river is a problem should we attempt to sail inland, and other groups of the brutes will be close to the water."
Nakanos nodded slowly, "You are not wrong, but I fear that with the capabilities you have described, this abomination will not be easily rooted out. Is there truly no other path inland?"
Adaro shook his head, "Not that we found. That one river was the only major waterway we could find before the icebergs became too much of a threat to sail further north. No, if we want any long-term presence with reach inland, we will need to secure the river."
Nakanos stroked his clean-shaven chin, "Unfortunate. I trust you, my brother, and I trust your judgment in this. Very well, let us discuss this more on the morrow. Tonight, I believe we should celebrate your safe return and success, no?"
Adaro, jaw working, finally relaxed and gave a slight smile. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Nakanos."
The conversation turned towards safer topics, fond recollections of their mutual past as sellswords. Nakanos played the gracious host, genuinely grateful for the return of his dear friend, yet doubt gnawed at him.
Such a lust for revenge, he couldn't help but think, Will he conquer it, or will it consume him?
AN- Interlude 1
I'm not sure why I never uploaded this interlude here. Fixed now, at least.
- Location
- England
Somebody posted a link to the SpaceBattles one, but better to have it official.
Grenwin V
Grenwin found herself standing alone in her bedroom. Confusion clutched at her as she cast her eyes around the room, followed and dispelled by recognition; This, she realized, was the dreamed reflection of the waking world. She knew what to look for now, the ever-present illumination from no clear source, the way her bedding and blankets would change positions whenever she looked away. The quiet feel of eyes on her from unseen sources sent the hairs on her neck bristling, but that, too, was just another sign. She sat on the edge of the bed to think for a moment, surprised to see her own clothing swapping whenever she looked elsewhere. One second, she'd be wearing her fine officer's tunic, the next she'd be garbed in her ever-familiar pelts and leathers. Grenwin didn't mind; being here gave her a chance to think things through in solitude. She didn't expect to have many more chances in the next few days.
It helped that there was no storm here, no wind rattling the shutters and no thunder shaking the walls. Rather, shafts of silver light angled down through the shutters when they were closed, beaming strongly into the room whenever they were open. Grenwin spared a glance outside while the shutters were open; The full moon hung low over First Fork, larger than Grenwin had ever seen in life. At first, she thought it was the source of her sensation of being watched, but she had no way of telling for sure. It was just a thing, after all. A lump of rock rotating around the world, in Maia's words, the glow merely reflected sunlight. She put it out of her mind.
In the quiet, a stormy conflict roiled inside her. She was angry that Ygdis had been hurt, that Maia had likely been the one to do that. It wasn't normal for people to fall and stay down the way Knut had described, and while she could accept that Maia had her own strangeness there, Ygdis had never fallen or been knocked unconscious, at least as far as Grenwin knew. Ygdis had even withstood a spear of ice without fading. Her feelings for both only made her anger worse, turning inward at herself for the dark thoughts she'd had during Knut's recollection. She was angry that the two of them had somehow been captured by the one person she never wanted to see again and enraged at the thought of her mother toying with their minds; Laine was cruel, inflicting harm with her fists as readily as with her words, and Grenwin had been broken enough that she dreaded the coming confrontation.
Grenwin hadn't ever expected to face Laine again, and in those quiet moments where she imagined doing so on her own terms, she'd always had Ygdis at her back, and later Maia as well. Now, she felt the gods were playing a twisted game at her expense. She was angry about that as well, but it was better to bear their ill favor than to provoke them into true malice. She was more concerned that she might fail, that Laine would murder Grenwin's people or worse, that she would take them back north. First Fork just didn't have the means to pursue Bears on foot through the difficult terrain north of the Antler, not without leaving the village vulnerable. Even thinking of potential failure, she was torn between the duty to lead she'd accepted and the notion of throwing it all away to hunt Laine down. Grenwin had long lived with the pain that woman could inflict and she felt sick at the thought of what the chieftess might be doing to them.
She rose to her feet, unable to sit still anymore. Her body felt full of energy and the urge to walk was strong. Leaving her little house, she set a measured pace around the reflection of First Fork. The moon seemed as though it might fall atop her at any moment, as though it were only scant paces above the top of the Tower; Grenwin paid it little mind, so caught up in her own thoughts as she was. Halfway across the grassy plaza, she paused at a realization.
If there was a dreamt reflection of First Fork, might there be one of Laine's camp, as well?
Grenwin set off at a run towards the western gate, then through and down the ramp, around the berm, and up onto the river trail. The experience was unlike running in the waking world; Her muscles worked without protest, her strides seemed to take her further and further along than should have been possible, and the forest blurred with the speed of her passage. She ran and ran, and it felt only moments before she burst into a clearing.
Logs stripped of branches were stacked atop each other around a cluster of large tents, each sewn together from the pelts of various animals. Peculiarly, two tents looked oddly lit, and Grenwin was confused to realize the moon was shining on those, where the others were not. She puzzled over this for a few moments and chose to note the location of those tents in relation to the others. Several campfires were arranged between the tents, though they shifted around whenever she looked away. Grenwin walked around the camp, noting the placements of the tents and the defenses, feeling a little thrill at being here unbeknownst to the raiders. Grenwin memorized the layout as best she could. When she woke, she'd write everything down and draw a map. She didn't know where the Bears were, nor where or how they might be deployed as sentries, but the size of the camp fit with the numbers Knut had given her.
As she poked about, Grenwin wondered about visiting the dreamt reflections of other places. She could visit the Wall and learn the layout of the castles there or go further south and see storied Winterfell for herself. Maia had talked about putting eyes above the world to see everything, everywhere; Maybe they wouldn't have to if Grenwin could walk around and see things for herself.
She was making her fourth pass around the camp when the dream began to blur and fall away around her as a quiet beeping sounded, growing louder. Grenwin blinked her eyes open, well and truly awake, as she reached toward the nightstand for her tablet. The storm seemed to have calmed during the night as rain no longer battered the roof and walls. She quieted the morning alarm, then dismissed her reading of The Art of War, pulling up her notes and beginning a new entry. As she wrote down everything she'd learned of Laine's camp, she spared a glance at the younger Laine curled up in the blankets next to her; Grenwin felt, in hindsight, that she'd been a little hasty when trying to find something to call her. The name was still good and strong and deserved a second chance, but now she wondered if it had been a mistake to suggest. Still, the girl seemed to like the name, and Grenwin wasn't going to take that from her now. She'd just have to work at separating them in her own thoughts.
After transcribing everything she'd seen, Grenwin stood and moved over to her dresser, quietly opening drawers to not wake the younger Laine. After pulling off her nightdress, she donned a charcoal grey tunic and overcoat. Both were embroidered with white silk, tiny leaves and flowering vines at the hems, up along the outer sleeves and across the shoulders, meeting with the yellow general's knots signifying her position. She pulled on trousers of the same shade, followed by a pair of deceptively soft leather boots. She checked her braid over and found it acceptable. She moved to leave, then hesitated for a moment, realizing she'd be much too busy the next few days to watch over Laine.
Thankfully, a solution was close at hand. Grenwin took up her tablet, poked at it until the messenger program came to the fore, and then wrote a quick message to Ellir.
"Ellir, I'm sure you've heard the news by now. The Sixth has been captured by a Bear Clan raiding force. Ygdis and Maia, too. I won't have time to take care of Laine for the next three days. Please see to it that she's cared for, will you? Thanks in advance."
Grenwin sent it off, before typing up a second message, "I had a strange dream last night. My notes are attached." She was getting more and more used to using her tablet, and it only took a moment to find her notes and attach them before sending them.
Slipping the device into her pocket, Grenwin quietly closed the bedroom door as she left. Crossing the living room, she mused on how simple it was to speak at a distance now, and how it had become almost normal in her mind. She left her house, bracing at the pre-dawn chill in the air. Hasn't been cold like this since the first time we fought off the Others, she thought as she trudged over to the Lodge. The clouds were a sheet of darkness overhead, and she passed a couple of fellows carrying ladders and wearing packs on their backs. One by one, they set the ladders against tall oil lamps that cast pockets of warm light around them, refilling the reservoirs and cleaning soot from the copper reflectors mounted over the flames. They spared her a nod and a quick "G'morning" as she passed, and she made sure to return their passing greetings. Warm air banished the chill as she stepped into the Lodge.
At this hour, the hearth had been banked low and people had clustered together to sleep throughout. Grenwin exchanged nods with the sentries watching over the resting Free Folk as she passed through to the kitchens. There, spindly Lom was already up, working alongside ten or so others to prepare the day's meals. More would filter in as the morning drew on, and the other kitchens were likely already working as well. Still, the more people who came to First Fork, the more effort it took to keep everyone fed; Fortunately, the hunters were still bringing back more than enough game and forage to fill the cook pots and roasting racks. They'd need to build more pantries and larders to keep up, she mused, and to expand the butchery grounds alongside. Grenwin took herself a bowl of greens and a roast pheasant breast, thanking Lom and the others before making her way to the Tower.
She ignored the stairs leading up as she passed, walking to the wide briefing room towards the rear of the building. It was dark as she wedged open the wide doors, brightening as her fingers found the switch on the wall nearby. She walked around the wide table to one of the desks at the front of the room, behind which were several whiteboards copied from the archive offices mounted on the wall. Grenwin ate quickly and methodically, mind occupied with sorting the information she'd need to present in a little while. As soon as the bowl was empty, she wiped her hands clean on her handkerchief and set about drawing on the central board. A simplified map of the area took shape as she marked down all the points of interest she'd learned after years of living in the area. Next to that, she drew the camp, referring to her notes whenever it seemed her memory might fail her. She chose to mark out the pair of moonlit tents after some hesitant thought; They were probably important.
A small beep came from her tablet, a response from Ellir.
"I'll watch over her. The Moon has been strange lately. It's clear you were being shown something while in that camp. Come see me when you have a chance. We have some things to talk about."
Grenwin relaxed marginally at the message. She sent back another thanks and an assurance she'd find the clan mother today, though she didn't need Ellir to tell her what to pay attention to. Still, it validated her own feelings toward the dream.
She kept working on the boards until another alarm sounded out a half-hour before the briefing was scheduled to start; she silenced it and continued. She'd already filled them nearly full with her sketching.
Sigrid was the first to enter, wearing much the same as Grenwin's outfit, save the single yellow knot marking out a squad leader on each of her drooping shoulders. She had dark bags under her eyes, and her voice was weary as she made a quick salute and sat.
"Gren, I-" Sigrid yawned, covering her mouth with one hand, "I didn't get much sleep last night. Saw your message and went back to the Knight for more practice. I can walk it around and fire the gun, but I'm not going to be doing any fancy moves in it." She blinked slowly in realization, "I could have just messaged you, couldn't I?" At Grenwin's answering nod, Sigrid sighed, "I'll remember next time."
"I'd appreciate that," Grenwin told her honestly. "Good work, anyway. Do you think you might be ready to fight in three days?"
Sigrid nodded, "I think so."
"Good, thank you. Take a minute to rest, we won't be starting 'till the other leads arrive."
Nodding once more, Sigrid put an arm on the table and bent to rest her head in the crook of her elbow with a grateful sigh.
Ombyr was the next to join them. He looked to be in high spirits; he flashed Grenwin a wide, toothy grin as he entered, calling out a greeting to her.
"Morn', General," he said without his usual half-mockery. He strode up to examine the boards, squinting as he looked them over. Tapping a meaty finger against the drawn camp and smudging it slightly, he asked her, "What's this?"
"Their camp," Grenwin replied, crossing her arms.
Ombyr turned his shaggy head and studied her, "Ah, makes sense. Why're you so troubled? They'll be back as soon as Maia wakes, yeah?"
Grenwin scowled before she could stop herself. Nobody else knew that Maia had fits; Grenwin had suspected for a while, but it had only been recently that her friend had admitted that her lights were hurting her. Now, after Knut had explained the situation, Grenwin worried those lights had hurt Ygdis as well. There was too much she didn't understand, and that uncertainty fed the frustrated irritation curdling her belly. The last time Maia had been out, it had taken several hours for her to recover. How long would she need while at the tender mercies of Grenwin's mother?
She felt as though her heart had frozen over, a block of ice sitting behind her breast, growing a little colder each time she thought of the elder Laine. She wanted to howl, to gnash her teeth, to drive a fist into that smug, scarred face she remembered so vividly over and over until there was nothing left but a bloody stain in the snow.
Something of her inner tumult must have shown on her face, as Ombyr blinked and took a step back. Grenwin clamped down on her impulses and buried them, forcing herself to remain composed.
"It's not about Maia, Ombyr. The woman leading that pack of Bears is cruel. She finds pleasure in inflicting pain, she strikes at any weakness she sees, and gods, she craves power like nothing else. She's given us a ransom for them, so the Sixth hopefully won't be hurt too badly while we prepare."
Ombyr slowly nodded, "Aye, I think I understand. You've got history, don'cha?"
A mirthless chuckle escaped Grenwin. "Yea, you could say that. She was the one that bore me, raised me." She realized her fists were clenching painfully and relaxed them through force of will.
His bushy eyebrows rose in surprise, his tone playful, "What, really? And here I thought you popped outta some she-bear, already scowling at the world. Like that, see, you're doing it now."
Grenwin took the ribbing, a ghost of a smile pulling at her lips. "Oh, that's true enough. This she-bear might not have much fur, but she's got the temperament to make up for it." She added with seriousness, "We need to kick her out of our territory. I'm thinking that storm last night was related to this whole…" She searched for a word Maia had used a few times, thinking it to fit her meaning, "Fiasco."
"Fiasco, eh? Guessin' that means a cock-up?"
Grenwin nodded.
Ombyr's humor drained from his expression. His shoulders fell slightly as he shook his head and blew out a breath that stunk like fish stew.
"My boys were talking last night. One of 'em was sayin' he saw the heart tree crying again. This's during the storm, mind you, so none of us were up for checking. Looked at it this morning, seemed like that face was scowling at somethin'. You've heard that talk about the gods blessing us with summer lately, yeah? You think there's anything to that, Grenwin? The gods gave us summer, and now that storm's brewin' above us, well, maybe they're upset like you are."
"Maybe," Grenwin shrugged, a little surprised at his echoing of her earlier thoughts. "I didn't want to start saying that's how it is, but that's how it seems."
Before Ombyr could reply, a few more uniformed men and women entered the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. Grenwin recognized them immediately, though she didn't know them well personally; Miya was a sturdy woman nearly as tall as Ombyr and had a deep voice to match, and the willowy ice-wife Falla was of a height with her and seeming all the more slender in comparison, both paying mind to stout Baernir as he spoke in a voice like grinding gravel. They were the leaders of the recently established Sixteenth, Seventeenth, and Fifteenth squads, respectively. They nodded to Grenwin and Ombyr as they took seats across the table from Sigrid's snoring form; Grenwin nodded back in a single sharp movement.
Ombyr's eyes tracked them until they sat, then flicked back to Grenwin. Lowly, he asked, "Who do you think they're angry at? Us, or that she-bear of yours?"
"Why would the gods be angry with us?" Grenwin asked back, pitching her voice just as low, "This is our home, she's an intruder, taking our people hostage."
He shrugged, meeting her eyes challengingly, "Maybe they don't like that we haven't been out and about stopping fiascos like this before they start."
"We'll talk about the patrols later, Ombyr. I'll find something for the Eighth to occupy themselves with after we drive away the raiders."
"But-"
"Later! Go sit," She snapped at him, nodding at the table.
Ombyr put on an expression of hurt, looking like a kicked dog. Grenwin saw through the act and scowled at him, and he dropped the look and moved to sit.
The other squad leaders trickled in over the following minutes. Grenwin counted them off in her head as they entered. Ygla, the Eighteenth; Dorvir, reliable fellow, First squad; Yrrey of the Second, with Orrad of the Fifth and Bjarald of the Fourth; Knut, standing in for Wyck and the Sixth; Steinir, Third squad, and Haradill and Orald of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth; Styrik of the Ninth; Hilda of the Tenth, Anrey, Eleventh, and Jaranir, Twelfth. That's everyone.
There were a few empty seats left at the table, spare spaces for future squad leads, but the room felt crowded enough as they acknowledged the others and spoke in hushed tones. Grenwin took a moment to gauge the feeling of the room. They were all tense, the new leads eager, the old confident. Good enough.
Grenwin whistled a short, sharp burst. The conversation stilled and all eyes turned toward her. Sigrid bolted to her feet, looked around, and sat with a look of faint embarrassment, fully awake.
"Let's get into it," she announced. "Here's the situation: The Sixth ran afoul of a band of Bear Clan raiders and have been taken captive. Maia and Ygdis are with them, and for whatever reason, are down and out of the fight. We've been given a ransom offer for them with three days to deliver. It's on us to get them out and drive out the raiders before time's up. Knut, come up here, tell them what you told me. The rest of you, hold your questions 'till after."
Nodding, Knut rose and stepped over to stand next to her. He seemed to swallow his nervousness, forcing himself to stand straight under their eyes before addressing the room.
"Right. Yesterday, the Sixth was deployed to escort Maia and Commander Ygdis on a survey expedition to a site twenty kilometers up the river trail. Captain Wyck set us out on paired patrols around the site while the Dove and the Commander worked on… Well, some kind of joint sorcery. Not like we could tell what they were doing until later after they'd pulled some stone spears out of the ground. Ah, while on patrol, we found signs of recent bear activity, scraped trees, scat, and wet fur caught in brambles. We reported this to the Captain and, after some discussion, we believed it to be an isolated snow bear come down from the north. Then, ah, the sorcery went wrong, we think, and Maia and Ygdis both fell unconscious and we couldn't rouse them. The Captain had us carry them and we started back, hoping to get to First Fork before nightfall."
Knut paused and wiped a hand across his brow; Grenwin noted it came away with a sheen of sweat.
"We encountered… It was a monstrous snow bear, and a scarred woman was riding atop its shoulders. She greeted us, naming herself as Laine, Chieftess of the Bear Clans, and offered respite at her camp. The Captain refused. Laine insisted, threatening to set her bear and the others on us if we refused again. The Captain accepted the, ah, offer and we were led to her camp. Before we were split into two tents, we were able to count four and ten bears, each with a rider. Shortly after that, Laine took Wyck out of the tent, and when he returned, he explained that we were being held for ransom. Laine wants our food, our clothes," he picked at the shoulder of his jacket for emphasis, "And any skinchangers we have among us. He picked me to be the messenger, with Laine's blessing, and I hightailed it back here, fast as I could. The storm started up not too long after I left. I made it after it got dark, broke into the General's house, and told her what was what. That's it."
"Thank you, Knut," Grenwin clapped him on the shoulder, "Go on, sit back down."
He flashed her a grateful look and a nod, then rejoined the others around the long table.
Grenwin looked over the other leaders, gauging their reactions. Most were concerned, though Falla and Baernir both grimaced; Grenwin reckoned they'd had run-ins with Bears before and had an appropriate and reasonable fear of them. Untested as they were, she felt she could rely on them to treat the situation with the gravity it deserved. Despite that, they didn't flinch away, meeting her eyes levelly. Good.
Gesturing to the boards behind her, "I've drawn a basic map of the area, and," She hastily reframed what she was about to say, "This is a representation of the average raiding camp. Some of you already know this, but most don't, so I'll say it once. Before coming to First Fork, I was a member of Clan Kunlin, one of the more powerful Bear Clans. Laine is Kunlin's matriarch, ruthless and cruel, and this party is likely also Clan Kunlin. I know how they think, how they react, how they view everyone and everything around them." She let some of the chill in her breast into her voice, "They would not hesitate to rampage through First Fork if they saw an opening in our defenses, nor would they have any qualms about slaughtering anyone trying to stand against them. Our objective is to drive them away without compromising the safety of everyone living here. To that end, we will be splitting our forces. The First through Tenth squads, save the Sixth, will remain at First Fork to defend her. Eleventh through Eighteenth, you're on the assault force. Sigrid?"
The leader of the Seventh cocked her head at Grenwin, "Grenwin?"
"You'll be taking the Knight out alongside us. Svelaf will take command over the Seventh for the time being. You have three days to prepare for hours of travel through the forest and to engage the Bears. The Knight's cannon and blade should be incredibly effective against them. They move deceptively fast for their bulk, however, so tell Herrick to configure the simulator for large and nimble targets. Understand?"
Sigrid's shoulders slumped for a moment before she visibly forced herself to sit straight and tapped a fist over her heart. "I understand. I'll be ready, General."
Grenwin gave her a serious look and a nod, trying to put a reassuring expression on her face. "I know you will."
She caught the uncertainty that had flashed across Sigrid's features. The leader of the Seventh had been working hard, Grenwin knew, but she lacked confidence. Herrick had shown her and Ygdis some of Sigrid's past practice rounds; while they left a great deal to be desired, she was the best they had at the moment. Nobody else they'd tested even came close to her proficiency in the Armored Core, limited as it was. Grenwin hoped it wouldn't come to a fight, that having the Knight present and at their back would be enough to keep Laine honest. She'd seen enough dead Bears for one lifetime.
Grenwin said after taking a moment to fill her lungs, "We won't be paying the ransom. We will, however, load up a few of the hunter's sleds with food and mundane clothes from the fabricator, nothing that will come out of our stocks, to make it look like we're capitulating. Anrey, you and the Eleventh will be pulling those, we're not going to risk any of our horses here."
Anrey folded her arms across her ample bosom, frowning. "They won't like that."
"Too bad. Get them used to the idea. You've got Sturla, have him pull one." Grenwin shot back at her.
"Fine. I'll tell 'em," Anrey scowled.
"Good. The Twelfth and Thirteenth will escort you and keep the raiders from taking the goods by force."
Jaranir and Orald both belted out an "Aye!" at that, the former clapping Anrey on the back.
"No big bears gonna get past us," Jaranir crowed, earning some chuckles from the others.
"Falla, Baernir, you'll be taking the Seventeenth and the Fifteenth and flanking our march," Grenwin told them. They nodded back, Baernir tapping a fist over his heart. "Sigrid will follow us in the Knight, and Haradil, Ygla, you'll bring the Fourteenth and Eighteenth up on the rear. We'll keep to a tight formation." The three mentioned acknowledged the orders, and Grenwin felt a moment of uncertainty.
They trusted her. She was still unproven and untested, but they still gave her their trust.
Meeting their eyes one by one, Grenwin swore to herself that she'd earn it.
The ball of ice behind her breast thawed a little.
"When we reach their camp, I'll go out and talk with Laine. I doubt she knows this is where I've ended up and I can keep her attention. The rest of you, you'll form a defensive square three ranks deep around the Knight and the sleds." Grenwin turned and sketched a section of the image in her mind in an empty spot on the whiteboards, "The outermost will carry shields and spears. Just like how we've trained against swarms of wights, they'll interlock. Behind them, two ranks of pike. Keep the members of your fire teams inside the square. We'll distribute guindilla arrows among them. If they attack, if the Bears come at you, the fireteams are to focus on the Bears and not the riders. Have your men aim for the eyes and mouth if they're able. Give them a quick death. Alright, that's about everything I had thought up ahead of time. Ask your questions if you have them."
Falla stood from her seat, face drawn and pale. Her movement gained the attention of the rest. "They'll kill us all, won't they?"
Grenwin met the new captain's eyes steadily, ignoring the way the others all turned to watch her reaction.
"The Bears are strong and deadly, but when it comes to a fight, each acts independently from the others. Keep your section in line and working with the rest and we won't have anything to fear."
Falla crossed her arms, setting her jaw stubbornly. She shifted from foot to foot as she held Grenwin's gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it, shaking her head and sitting with a sullen expression.
"What do we do if Maia's dead by the time we get there?" Ombyr stood, concern wrinkling his ruddy features. "What do we do then?"
The questions sent a wave of disturbed expressions through the leaders of the first ten, and the newcomers looked at them with concern. Falla looked vindicated for a second, then annoyed; Grenwin reckoned that must have been what she'd been about to say.
It wasn't something Grenwin wanted to think about; she forced herself to consider it anyway. If Maia was gone… Her chest tightened and her eyes prickled as they watered. She forced the feelings down, focusing on the matter at hand. They'd still have the fabricator and the recycler, and the analysts poring through the Archive, and their army. Sicknesses would become a problem, though, without Maia there to deal with them. Her aspirations of teaching would come to an end, at least until they could pick up the slack, and without the time compression, everything would take longer to achieve. If Ygdis was still with them, she and Grenwin might still be able to find others who could channel and train them as best they could; if not, Grenwin didn't think she could do it on her own.
They'd survive, Grenwin thought. It would be difficult, but the dream wouldn't die with her. Not as long as her memory lived.
"It would be devastating for us," Grenwin admitted. "We'd lose much of what we've come to enjoy. It wouldn't be our end, though. We could recover. We'd still get ourselves south of the Wall, build something of our own there, and have the means to defend it. Maia's… She's important, but she isn't everything. It'll be hard without her, but we were born harder than that. We've started something that's going to carry on."
A thoughtful expression crossed Ombyr's face and he nodded to her, taking a seat. "That's all I needed to know," he admitted.
"Who'd replace her?" Baernir spoke up.
Every eye turned towards Grenwin.
"No," Grenwin declared, crossing her arms and scowling at them. "Not me. If we need to find someone, we will. This talk doesn't leave this room, you understand? It's just going to rile up the power-hungry and the foolish, and that's the last thing we need right now."
To Grenwin's surprise, Ombyr was the first to support her, thumping a fist on the table and glaring at Baernir. "Aye, she's right. We're better off without the chaos that thought'll cause."
Bearnir raised his hands defensively, as though he could ward off the glares directed at him from the other leaders.
"Forget I said anything," he offered, "I'll keep my mouth shut."
"Moving on," Grenwin said, taking back the room's attention and gesturing to the boards, "Let's get back to work."
The mood of the room was somber as they spent the next few hours working out plans for the coming confrontation. Grenwin was glad that there was no shortage of ideas from her captains; more often than not, one would raise a concern and two or three others would propose varied solutions. She felt that it was a vast improvement over the hasty plotting they'd used to address the slavers at Hardhome. The new faces were a boon, bringing entirely new perspectives. By the time noon rolled around, they'd put together more than Grenwin thought they'd need, and their list of potential problems was long enough that she was sure they'd thought up everything that might go wrong. They broke for lunch; after, the squad leaders would gather their men and begin drilling in the new formations, and Grenwin aimed to speak to Ellir.
She was the last to leave the room. Grenwin stayed to wipe the boards clean with a rag before heading out, flicking the lights off behind her. The Tower was bustling now, and she passed by analysts, soldiers, and a pair of Symon's engineers hefting stacks of wooden slates. Most acknowledged Grenwin, and she had to remind herself to reply in kind; Maia had done her best to prepare Grenwin for the position she'd taken on, and she'd stressed that reciprocity would do much of the work for her. Still, taking the time to slow and return a passing greeting or salute was beginning to grate on her. She left the Tower through the plaza door; despite the height of the sun, thick clouds obscured the sky. Grenwin's coat flapped against her hip and her braid swung as a chill wind caught them.
Following the street to the plaza, Grenwin passed between the tenements. They were wide buildings, and the carved stonework rose like cliff faces on either side. At street level, the stone was worked into little murals framed by flowering vines. Heedless of passers-by, her eyes lingered on them, tiny renditions of First Fork as it had been before Maia joined them. Grenwin remembered the day her friend had gone around asking for stories of the village and her chest tightened.
Everything will be fine, she told herself. Laine would stick to her demands and Maia was sturdier than she looked.
The plaza was emptier than usual, though the sounds of cheerful people and laughing children still washed over her as she strode across it. A peal of thunder rolled from the silver-black clouds overhead and the few outside called out to the kids playing on the grass, ushering them back to shelter. The sound of hammering came from the workshop's forge as a group of shirtless men worked a chunk of glowing metal and tore down a bloomery. Another group pulled a sled bearing chunks of red rock up the ramp from the hangar, tossing the rocks onto a small pile of others, and more were working at breaking those stones down into pebbles.
Grenwin was pleased to see the forge in use. She'd heard Lom demanding more cookware the other day; some of the engineers had been hammering out iron pots and pans since. Much of it was being done by trial and error, though she'd been assured that the analysts had been dredging up information on smithing from the Archive for the engineers to try and work out. They may not be forging weapons, but it was a hopeful sight, nonetheless.
She stopped by the Lodge long enough to grab a steaming skewer and wolf it down. The roast elk had been coated in a sweet sauce that left her mouth tingling pleasantly, and it left her mouth cool and refreshed after chasing it with water. Satiated, she set off towards the village's heart tree.
Ellir had taken up residence in the old Chief's cabin, a small wooden hut nestled among the pale roots of the weirwood; Teagj wasn't using it and had turned it over to her without much fuss. Grenwin crossed the plaza, eyeing the canopy of blood-red leaves waving in the wind overhead. Ombyr hadn't been wrong, she saw; the old man's face carved into the tree was leaking sap from the eyes. The sensation of being watched settled over her as she approached, and she paused, staring at the carving. That was unusual.
A gust of wind sent the leaves fluttering. A woman laughed in the distance, but try as she might, Grenwin couldn't figure out from where.
Shaking her head, she pushed on, walking up to the cabin's door. It had been replaced by a thicker, heavier slab hanging on new hinges sometime recently, but Grenwin couldn't recall when. Must have been one of Maia's off-time projects, given the distinctive carvings adorning it. An iron knocker hung, and Grenwin tapped it against the wood a couple of times.
"Ellir! You in there?" She yelled through the door.
It pushed outward, revealing the younger Laine. She smiled up at Grenwin with gleaming steel eyes.
"Come in!" Ellir's voice called from within.
"You having fun?" Grenwin asked the girl, patting her on the head as she entered the cabin.
Laine nodded and beamed at her, following at her heels and closing the door behind her.
Grenwin found Ellir in the back room, standing before an old table and grinding at a mortar with a pestle. Strewn around the table were bundles of small flowers tied up with twine. Laine moved around her, sitting on a low bench formed by the heart tree's exposed roots and taking up a basket filled with more flowers, sorting them into piles. A shuttered window let in some light from outside, though an oil lamp hung from a rafter and shone more brightly. Ellir had hung many of the trinkets Grenwin remembered helping her move on rough nails pounded into the wooden walls, lending the space a completely different atmosphere than when Teagj had taken residence.
"So," Ellir began as she set aside the mortar and pestle, turning and leaning her hip on the table, "What did you all figure out?"
Grenwin found a small stool nearby and sat on it, leaning her elbows on her legs and interlacing her fingers.
"We've been given three days to prepare, so that's what we're doing. I'll be taking the Knight and some of the army to get our people back."
"I see," Ellir nodded. "What do you suppose should be said about this?"
Grenwin blinked at her. "What?"
"People are going to talk. The wrong kind will whip up a frenzy like nothing else. Best if we say something first."
"I'm not sure there's anything to say," Grenwin frowned, "We'll have our people back and expel the raiders. We just need a few days to ready ourselves." Shaking her head, Grenwin regretted the hard anti-wight focus they'd had during training. If they'd spared some time for other possible threats, Bears especially, they'd have already moved out.
"I'll see to it the other elders are aware." Ellir nodded, as though something had been decided.
Meeting her cool blue eyes, Grenwin sat up straight. She hadn't even considered informing that lot. "Oh. Yes, please do."
Ellir smiled at her, blowing aside a stray lock of snowy hair that had fallen across her face. She leaned forward, asking intently, "The dream you had. Tell me everything you remember."
Grenwin nodded and told the rejuvenated elder every detail. It was still fresh enough in her mind, and for those portions she wasn't as sure of, she still had her notes to remind her. Ellir listened quietly, nodding every so often and encouraging her to continue. It didn't take long before Grenwin had finished, leaving Ellir looking thoughtful.
"Strange. That's nothing at all like the dreams others have brought to me." A rueful grin pulled at her lips and she shook her head, "I'm inclined to believe this is a truer reflection of the world than those. It seems clear to me that the Moon has an interest in us, and is there any wonder why?" Gesturing out the window, Ellir shrugged.
Grenwin understood that much; little wonder that the old gods would be curious at all the changes happening here.
"What does it mean?"
Ellir shrugged again, "I have no idea. It was your dream, not mine. You tell me."
Glowering at the other woman, Grenwin turned it over in her head. She knew the details, she just didn't know the picture they formed. Looking around the room, she searched for inspiration. Her eyes fell on Laine, who was calmly sorting through flowers.
"Ellir, you told us about the slaver camp at Hardhome. You said," Grenwin searched through her memories, "Something about an Eshe?"
"Oh, yes, that." Ellir nodded, blue eyes sparkling with glee, "She's come back to us after all these years. It's an interesting story, I think. Maia asked me for guidance the day before, you see, and after some discussion, she agreed to undergo a guiding ritual. I brewed a potion to send her on her way, though it may have been a little strong. After she'd returned, she told me she'd met a woman calling herself Eshe and had been shown things I'd never heard of. At first, I thought I'd prepared the brew wrong and Maia had merely been dreaming. I quaffed the rest after Maia went for a walk in the moonlight. That night, I found Eshe and we spoke at length, and she led me to Hardhome's grave and told me of the slavers." Ellir blinked in realization, looking at Laine. "I suppose she had more reasons than she let on at the time. I wonder, did she know we would bring the freedmen back with us?"
Grenwin remembered that night, remembered being woken by Maia just before she'd left through a Gateway. She shut her eyes and sighed. Maia must have still been affected by whatever Ellir had brewed. More, she remembered strong moonlight shining through the windows.
"Ellir, there was a full moon that night, wasn't there?"
Ellir nodded. "Yes, there was. The ritual wouldn't have worked otherwise."
"How are Eshe and the Moon connected?"
Pursing her lips, Ellir lifted a hand, inspecting her palm. "All I have is what my mother's mother told me of her, and that isn't much. She desired power and paid for it with her life. She led First Fork for a time as chieftess. She came across the eastern sea, and she was the only survivor of a shipwreck."
Grenwin clenched her hands and growled with frustration. "That doesn't tell me anything."
"You could ask her yourself," Ellir offered, "We've a full moon coming soon and the potion is not difficult to brew. Even if it doesn't work, you'll not feel anything in the morning."
"Maybe I will," Grenwin said slowly, considering the idea. By that point, the elder Laine would have been driven back and Ygdis, Maia, and the rest of Grenwin's people would be safe. She'd be able to spare a night if it meant getting answers. "Another question, then. What is the Moon?"
"One of the old gods, I believe," Ellir said after a moment's consideration. "One of the oldest. If you're asking what motives she has or what she might do, I can't tell you."
"But it is a she?"
Ellir crossed her arms, "That's how the stories refer to her, and that's how my mother spoke of her."
"So, you don't know for certain?"
"I've learned I know very little, and I'm certain of that."
Grenwin sighed. "Well, alright. That's another thing to ask Eshe. I should start a list," she japed lightly.
Ellir nodded seriously, "You should. It would help." Her eyes softened after a moment, and she asked, "Grenwin, what are you going to do about Maia?"
Taken aback, Grenwin was momentarily confused, feeling her brows furrow. "What do you mean?"
Uncrossing her arms, Ellir sat on the edge of the table and grinned mischievously. "She adores you, you must know."
Grenwin's hand moved to one of her belt pouches and she felt the little statuette within. The smile Maia had given her after she'd figured out her Gateways came to mind, and Grenwin felt warmed from head to toe all over again. Her heart fluttered against the thawing chill in her breast and something squirmed in her belly.
"I know," she said quietly, feeling a smile tugging at her own lips at the memory.
Raising a hand to her mouth, Ellir hid a smile and softly laughed. "Well, the two of you ought to do something about that."
"…I'm not going to take her, Ellir. That would be..." Wrong was the first word to come to mind, followed by wonderful. Grenwin couldn't finish the thought, shaking her head viciously. Her cheeks burned with a blush, and she stared down at the pelt rug between her boots.
"I didn't say that, did I?" Ellir chuckled again. "The two of you should talk about it. Everyone's been watching you dance around each other for a while now. If you don't do something soon, someone else will."
"Who?!" Grenwin demanded, meeting the other woman's eyes. After a moment, she noticed they were sparkling in amusement.
"That would be telling," Ellir grinned at her behind her fingers.
Grenwin's cheeks felt aflame, and she stood. "I think I've had enough of your teasing for today. Thank you again for taking care of Laine. I'm off to see Herrick, I have to make sure Sigrid's practice Bears stand up to the real thing."
Ellir's eyebrow lifted.
Grenwin fled the cabin, peals of light laughter chasing her out.
It helped that there was no storm here, no wind rattling the shutters and no thunder shaking the walls. Rather, shafts of silver light angled down through the shutters when they were closed, beaming strongly into the room whenever they were open. Grenwin spared a glance outside while the shutters were open; The full moon hung low over First Fork, larger than Grenwin had ever seen in life. At first, she thought it was the source of her sensation of being watched, but she had no way of telling for sure. It was just a thing, after all. A lump of rock rotating around the world, in Maia's words, the glow merely reflected sunlight. She put it out of her mind.
In the quiet, a stormy conflict roiled inside her. She was angry that Ygdis had been hurt, that Maia had likely been the one to do that. It wasn't normal for people to fall and stay down the way Knut had described, and while she could accept that Maia had her own strangeness there, Ygdis had never fallen or been knocked unconscious, at least as far as Grenwin knew. Ygdis had even withstood a spear of ice without fading. Her feelings for both only made her anger worse, turning inward at herself for the dark thoughts she'd had during Knut's recollection. She was angry that the two of them had somehow been captured by the one person she never wanted to see again and enraged at the thought of her mother toying with their minds; Laine was cruel, inflicting harm with her fists as readily as with her words, and Grenwin had been broken enough that she dreaded the coming confrontation.
Grenwin hadn't ever expected to face Laine again, and in those quiet moments where she imagined doing so on her own terms, she'd always had Ygdis at her back, and later Maia as well. Now, she felt the gods were playing a twisted game at her expense. She was angry about that as well, but it was better to bear their ill favor than to provoke them into true malice. She was more concerned that she might fail, that Laine would murder Grenwin's people or worse, that she would take them back north. First Fork just didn't have the means to pursue Bears on foot through the difficult terrain north of the Antler, not without leaving the village vulnerable. Even thinking of potential failure, she was torn between the duty to lead she'd accepted and the notion of throwing it all away to hunt Laine down. Grenwin had long lived with the pain that woman could inflict and she felt sick at the thought of what the chieftess might be doing to them.
She rose to her feet, unable to sit still anymore. Her body felt full of energy and the urge to walk was strong. Leaving her little house, she set a measured pace around the reflection of First Fork. The moon seemed as though it might fall atop her at any moment, as though it were only scant paces above the top of the Tower; Grenwin paid it little mind, so caught up in her own thoughts as she was. Halfway across the grassy plaza, she paused at a realization.
If there was a dreamt reflection of First Fork, might there be one of Laine's camp, as well?
Grenwin set off at a run towards the western gate, then through and down the ramp, around the berm, and up onto the river trail. The experience was unlike running in the waking world; Her muscles worked without protest, her strides seemed to take her further and further along than should have been possible, and the forest blurred with the speed of her passage. She ran and ran, and it felt only moments before she burst into a clearing.
Logs stripped of branches were stacked atop each other around a cluster of large tents, each sewn together from the pelts of various animals. Peculiarly, two tents looked oddly lit, and Grenwin was confused to realize the moon was shining on those, where the others were not. She puzzled over this for a few moments and chose to note the location of those tents in relation to the others. Several campfires were arranged between the tents, though they shifted around whenever she looked away. Grenwin walked around the camp, noting the placements of the tents and the defenses, feeling a little thrill at being here unbeknownst to the raiders. Grenwin memorized the layout as best she could. When she woke, she'd write everything down and draw a map. She didn't know where the Bears were, nor where or how they might be deployed as sentries, but the size of the camp fit with the numbers Knut had given her.
As she poked about, Grenwin wondered about visiting the dreamt reflections of other places. She could visit the Wall and learn the layout of the castles there or go further south and see storied Winterfell for herself. Maia had talked about putting eyes above the world to see everything, everywhere; Maybe they wouldn't have to if Grenwin could walk around and see things for herself.
She was making her fourth pass around the camp when the dream began to blur and fall away around her as a quiet beeping sounded, growing louder. Grenwin blinked her eyes open, well and truly awake, as she reached toward the nightstand for her tablet. The storm seemed to have calmed during the night as rain no longer battered the roof and walls. She quieted the morning alarm, then dismissed her reading of The Art of War, pulling up her notes and beginning a new entry. As she wrote down everything she'd learned of Laine's camp, she spared a glance at the younger Laine curled up in the blankets next to her; Grenwin felt, in hindsight, that she'd been a little hasty when trying to find something to call her. The name was still good and strong and deserved a second chance, but now she wondered if it had been a mistake to suggest. Still, the girl seemed to like the name, and Grenwin wasn't going to take that from her now. She'd just have to work at separating them in her own thoughts.
After transcribing everything she'd seen, Grenwin stood and moved over to her dresser, quietly opening drawers to not wake the younger Laine. After pulling off her nightdress, she donned a charcoal grey tunic and overcoat. Both were embroidered with white silk, tiny leaves and flowering vines at the hems, up along the outer sleeves and across the shoulders, meeting with the yellow general's knots signifying her position. She pulled on trousers of the same shade, followed by a pair of deceptively soft leather boots. She checked her braid over and found it acceptable. She moved to leave, then hesitated for a moment, realizing she'd be much too busy the next few days to watch over Laine.
Thankfully, a solution was close at hand. Grenwin took up her tablet, poked at it until the messenger program came to the fore, and then wrote a quick message to Ellir.
"Ellir, I'm sure you've heard the news by now. The Sixth has been captured by a Bear Clan raiding force. Ygdis and Maia, too. I won't have time to take care of Laine for the next three days. Please see to it that she's cared for, will you? Thanks in advance."
Grenwin sent it off, before typing up a second message, "I had a strange dream last night. My notes are attached." She was getting more and more used to using her tablet, and it only took a moment to find her notes and attach them before sending them.
Slipping the device into her pocket, Grenwin quietly closed the bedroom door as she left. Crossing the living room, she mused on how simple it was to speak at a distance now, and how it had become almost normal in her mind. She left her house, bracing at the pre-dawn chill in the air. Hasn't been cold like this since the first time we fought off the Others, she thought as she trudged over to the Lodge. The clouds were a sheet of darkness overhead, and she passed a couple of fellows carrying ladders and wearing packs on their backs. One by one, they set the ladders against tall oil lamps that cast pockets of warm light around them, refilling the reservoirs and cleaning soot from the copper reflectors mounted over the flames. They spared her a nod and a quick "G'morning" as she passed, and she made sure to return their passing greetings. Warm air banished the chill as she stepped into the Lodge.
At this hour, the hearth had been banked low and people had clustered together to sleep throughout. Grenwin exchanged nods with the sentries watching over the resting Free Folk as she passed through to the kitchens. There, spindly Lom was already up, working alongside ten or so others to prepare the day's meals. More would filter in as the morning drew on, and the other kitchens were likely already working as well. Still, the more people who came to First Fork, the more effort it took to keep everyone fed; Fortunately, the hunters were still bringing back more than enough game and forage to fill the cook pots and roasting racks. They'd need to build more pantries and larders to keep up, she mused, and to expand the butchery grounds alongside. Grenwin took herself a bowl of greens and a roast pheasant breast, thanking Lom and the others before making her way to the Tower.
She ignored the stairs leading up as she passed, walking to the wide briefing room towards the rear of the building. It was dark as she wedged open the wide doors, brightening as her fingers found the switch on the wall nearby. She walked around the wide table to one of the desks at the front of the room, behind which were several whiteboards copied from the archive offices mounted on the wall. Grenwin ate quickly and methodically, mind occupied with sorting the information she'd need to present in a little while. As soon as the bowl was empty, she wiped her hands clean on her handkerchief and set about drawing on the central board. A simplified map of the area took shape as she marked down all the points of interest she'd learned after years of living in the area. Next to that, she drew the camp, referring to her notes whenever it seemed her memory might fail her. She chose to mark out the pair of moonlit tents after some hesitant thought; They were probably important.
A small beep came from her tablet, a response from Ellir.
"I'll watch over her. The Moon has been strange lately. It's clear you were being shown something while in that camp. Come see me when you have a chance. We have some things to talk about."
Grenwin relaxed marginally at the message. She sent back another thanks and an assurance she'd find the clan mother today, though she didn't need Ellir to tell her what to pay attention to. Still, it validated her own feelings toward the dream.
She kept working on the boards until another alarm sounded out a half-hour before the briefing was scheduled to start; she silenced it and continued. She'd already filled them nearly full with her sketching.
Sigrid was the first to enter, wearing much the same as Grenwin's outfit, save the single yellow knot marking out a squad leader on each of her drooping shoulders. She had dark bags under her eyes, and her voice was weary as she made a quick salute and sat.
"Gren, I-" Sigrid yawned, covering her mouth with one hand, "I didn't get much sleep last night. Saw your message and went back to the Knight for more practice. I can walk it around and fire the gun, but I'm not going to be doing any fancy moves in it." She blinked slowly in realization, "I could have just messaged you, couldn't I?" At Grenwin's answering nod, Sigrid sighed, "I'll remember next time."
"I'd appreciate that," Grenwin told her honestly. "Good work, anyway. Do you think you might be ready to fight in three days?"
Sigrid nodded, "I think so."
"Good, thank you. Take a minute to rest, we won't be starting 'till the other leads arrive."
Nodding once more, Sigrid put an arm on the table and bent to rest her head in the crook of her elbow with a grateful sigh.
Ombyr was the next to join them. He looked to be in high spirits; he flashed Grenwin a wide, toothy grin as he entered, calling out a greeting to her.
"Morn', General," he said without his usual half-mockery. He strode up to examine the boards, squinting as he looked them over. Tapping a meaty finger against the drawn camp and smudging it slightly, he asked her, "What's this?"
"Their camp," Grenwin replied, crossing her arms.
Ombyr turned his shaggy head and studied her, "Ah, makes sense. Why're you so troubled? They'll be back as soon as Maia wakes, yeah?"
Grenwin scowled before she could stop herself. Nobody else knew that Maia had fits; Grenwin had suspected for a while, but it had only been recently that her friend had admitted that her lights were hurting her. Now, after Knut had explained the situation, Grenwin worried those lights had hurt Ygdis as well. There was too much she didn't understand, and that uncertainty fed the frustrated irritation curdling her belly. The last time Maia had been out, it had taken several hours for her to recover. How long would she need while at the tender mercies of Grenwin's mother?
She felt as though her heart had frozen over, a block of ice sitting behind her breast, growing a little colder each time she thought of the elder Laine. She wanted to howl, to gnash her teeth, to drive a fist into that smug, scarred face she remembered so vividly over and over until there was nothing left but a bloody stain in the snow.
Something of her inner tumult must have shown on her face, as Ombyr blinked and took a step back. Grenwin clamped down on her impulses and buried them, forcing herself to remain composed.
"It's not about Maia, Ombyr. The woman leading that pack of Bears is cruel. She finds pleasure in inflicting pain, she strikes at any weakness she sees, and gods, she craves power like nothing else. She's given us a ransom for them, so the Sixth hopefully won't be hurt too badly while we prepare."
Ombyr slowly nodded, "Aye, I think I understand. You've got history, don'cha?"
A mirthless chuckle escaped Grenwin. "Yea, you could say that. She was the one that bore me, raised me." She realized her fists were clenching painfully and relaxed them through force of will.
His bushy eyebrows rose in surprise, his tone playful, "What, really? And here I thought you popped outta some she-bear, already scowling at the world. Like that, see, you're doing it now."
Grenwin took the ribbing, a ghost of a smile pulling at her lips. "Oh, that's true enough. This she-bear might not have much fur, but she's got the temperament to make up for it." She added with seriousness, "We need to kick her out of our territory. I'm thinking that storm last night was related to this whole…" She searched for a word Maia had used a few times, thinking it to fit her meaning, "Fiasco."
"Fiasco, eh? Guessin' that means a cock-up?"
Grenwin nodded.
Ombyr's humor drained from his expression. His shoulders fell slightly as he shook his head and blew out a breath that stunk like fish stew.
"My boys were talking last night. One of 'em was sayin' he saw the heart tree crying again. This's during the storm, mind you, so none of us were up for checking. Looked at it this morning, seemed like that face was scowling at somethin'. You've heard that talk about the gods blessing us with summer lately, yeah? You think there's anything to that, Grenwin? The gods gave us summer, and now that storm's brewin' above us, well, maybe they're upset like you are."
"Maybe," Grenwin shrugged, a little surprised at his echoing of her earlier thoughts. "I didn't want to start saying that's how it is, but that's how it seems."
Before Ombyr could reply, a few more uniformed men and women entered the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. Grenwin recognized them immediately, though she didn't know them well personally; Miya was a sturdy woman nearly as tall as Ombyr and had a deep voice to match, and the willowy ice-wife Falla was of a height with her and seeming all the more slender in comparison, both paying mind to stout Baernir as he spoke in a voice like grinding gravel. They were the leaders of the recently established Sixteenth, Seventeenth, and Fifteenth squads, respectively. They nodded to Grenwin and Ombyr as they took seats across the table from Sigrid's snoring form; Grenwin nodded back in a single sharp movement.
Ombyr's eyes tracked them until they sat, then flicked back to Grenwin. Lowly, he asked, "Who do you think they're angry at? Us, or that she-bear of yours?"
"Why would the gods be angry with us?" Grenwin asked back, pitching her voice just as low, "This is our home, she's an intruder, taking our people hostage."
He shrugged, meeting her eyes challengingly, "Maybe they don't like that we haven't been out and about stopping fiascos like this before they start."
"We'll talk about the patrols later, Ombyr. I'll find something for the Eighth to occupy themselves with after we drive away the raiders."
"But-"
"Later! Go sit," She snapped at him, nodding at the table.
Ombyr put on an expression of hurt, looking like a kicked dog. Grenwin saw through the act and scowled at him, and he dropped the look and moved to sit.
The other squad leaders trickled in over the following minutes. Grenwin counted them off in her head as they entered. Ygla, the Eighteenth; Dorvir, reliable fellow, First squad; Yrrey of the Second, with Orrad of the Fifth and Bjarald of the Fourth; Knut, standing in for Wyck and the Sixth; Steinir, Third squad, and Haradill and Orald of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth; Styrik of the Ninth; Hilda of the Tenth, Anrey, Eleventh, and Jaranir, Twelfth. That's everyone.
There were a few empty seats left at the table, spare spaces for future squad leads, but the room felt crowded enough as they acknowledged the others and spoke in hushed tones. Grenwin took a moment to gauge the feeling of the room. They were all tense, the new leads eager, the old confident. Good enough.
Grenwin whistled a short, sharp burst. The conversation stilled and all eyes turned toward her. Sigrid bolted to her feet, looked around, and sat with a look of faint embarrassment, fully awake.
"Let's get into it," she announced. "Here's the situation: The Sixth ran afoul of a band of Bear Clan raiders and have been taken captive. Maia and Ygdis are with them, and for whatever reason, are down and out of the fight. We've been given a ransom offer for them with three days to deliver. It's on us to get them out and drive out the raiders before time's up. Knut, come up here, tell them what you told me. The rest of you, hold your questions 'till after."
Nodding, Knut rose and stepped over to stand next to her. He seemed to swallow his nervousness, forcing himself to stand straight under their eyes before addressing the room.
"Right. Yesterday, the Sixth was deployed to escort Maia and Commander Ygdis on a survey expedition to a site twenty kilometers up the river trail. Captain Wyck set us out on paired patrols around the site while the Dove and the Commander worked on… Well, some kind of joint sorcery. Not like we could tell what they were doing until later after they'd pulled some stone spears out of the ground. Ah, while on patrol, we found signs of recent bear activity, scraped trees, scat, and wet fur caught in brambles. We reported this to the Captain and, after some discussion, we believed it to be an isolated snow bear come down from the north. Then, ah, the sorcery went wrong, we think, and Maia and Ygdis both fell unconscious and we couldn't rouse them. The Captain had us carry them and we started back, hoping to get to First Fork before nightfall."
Knut paused and wiped a hand across his brow; Grenwin noted it came away with a sheen of sweat.
"We encountered… It was a monstrous snow bear, and a scarred woman was riding atop its shoulders. She greeted us, naming herself as Laine, Chieftess of the Bear Clans, and offered respite at her camp. The Captain refused. Laine insisted, threatening to set her bear and the others on us if we refused again. The Captain accepted the, ah, offer and we were led to her camp. Before we were split into two tents, we were able to count four and ten bears, each with a rider. Shortly after that, Laine took Wyck out of the tent, and when he returned, he explained that we were being held for ransom. Laine wants our food, our clothes," he picked at the shoulder of his jacket for emphasis, "And any skinchangers we have among us. He picked me to be the messenger, with Laine's blessing, and I hightailed it back here, fast as I could. The storm started up not too long after I left. I made it after it got dark, broke into the General's house, and told her what was what. That's it."
"Thank you, Knut," Grenwin clapped him on the shoulder, "Go on, sit back down."
He flashed her a grateful look and a nod, then rejoined the others around the long table.
Grenwin looked over the other leaders, gauging their reactions. Most were concerned, though Falla and Baernir both grimaced; Grenwin reckoned they'd had run-ins with Bears before and had an appropriate and reasonable fear of them. Untested as they were, she felt she could rely on them to treat the situation with the gravity it deserved. Despite that, they didn't flinch away, meeting her eyes levelly. Good.
Gesturing to the boards behind her, "I've drawn a basic map of the area, and," She hastily reframed what she was about to say, "This is a representation of the average raiding camp. Some of you already know this, but most don't, so I'll say it once. Before coming to First Fork, I was a member of Clan Kunlin, one of the more powerful Bear Clans. Laine is Kunlin's matriarch, ruthless and cruel, and this party is likely also Clan Kunlin. I know how they think, how they react, how they view everyone and everything around them." She let some of the chill in her breast into her voice, "They would not hesitate to rampage through First Fork if they saw an opening in our defenses, nor would they have any qualms about slaughtering anyone trying to stand against them. Our objective is to drive them away without compromising the safety of everyone living here. To that end, we will be splitting our forces. The First through Tenth squads, save the Sixth, will remain at First Fork to defend her. Eleventh through Eighteenth, you're on the assault force. Sigrid?"
The leader of the Seventh cocked her head at Grenwin, "Grenwin?"
"You'll be taking the Knight out alongside us. Svelaf will take command over the Seventh for the time being. You have three days to prepare for hours of travel through the forest and to engage the Bears. The Knight's cannon and blade should be incredibly effective against them. They move deceptively fast for their bulk, however, so tell Herrick to configure the simulator for large and nimble targets. Understand?"
Sigrid's shoulders slumped for a moment before she visibly forced herself to sit straight and tapped a fist over her heart. "I understand. I'll be ready, General."
Grenwin gave her a serious look and a nod, trying to put a reassuring expression on her face. "I know you will."
She caught the uncertainty that had flashed across Sigrid's features. The leader of the Seventh had been working hard, Grenwin knew, but she lacked confidence. Herrick had shown her and Ygdis some of Sigrid's past practice rounds; while they left a great deal to be desired, she was the best they had at the moment. Nobody else they'd tested even came close to her proficiency in the Armored Core, limited as it was. Grenwin hoped it wouldn't come to a fight, that having the Knight present and at their back would be enough to keep Laine honest. She'd seen enough dead Bears for one lifetime.
Grenwin said after taking a moment to fill her lungs, "We won't be paying the ransom. We will, however, load up a few of the hunter's sleds with food and mundane clothes from the fabricator, nothing that will come out of our stocks, to make it look like we're capitulating. Anrey, you and the Eleventh will be pulling those, we're not going to risk any of our horses here."
Anrey folded her arms across her ample bosom, frowning. "They won't like that."
"Too bad. Get them used to the idea. You've got Sturla, have him pull one." Grenwin shot back at her.
"Fine. I'll tell 'em," Anrey scowled.
"Good. The Twelfth and Thirteenth will escort you and keep the raiders from taking the goods by force."
Jaranir and Orald both belted out an "Aye!" at that, the former clapping Anrey on the back.
"No big bears gonna get past us," Jaranir crowed, earning some chuckles from the others.
"Falla, Baernir, you'll be taking the Seventeenth and the Fifteenth and flanking our march," Grenwin told them. They nodded back, Baernir tapping a fist over his heart. "Sigrid will follow us in the Knight, and Haradil, Ygla, you'll bring the Fourteenth and Eighteenth up on the rear. We'll keep to a tight formation." The three mentioned acknowledged the orders, and Grenwin felt a moment of uncertainty.
They trusted her. She was still unproven and untested, but they still gave her their trust.
Meeting their eyes one by one, Grenwin swore to herself that she'd earn it.
The ball of ice behind her breast thawed a little.
"When we reach their camp, I'll go out and talk with Laine. I doubt she knows this is where I've ended up and I can keep her attention. The rest of you, you'll form a defensive square three ranks deep around the Knight and the sleds." Grenwin turned and sketched a section of the image in her mind in an empty spot on the whiteboards, "The outermost will carry shields and spears. Just like how we've trained against swarms of wights, they'll interlock. Behind them, two ranks of pike. Keep the members of your fire teams inside the square. We'll distribute guindilla arrows among them. If they attack, if the Bears come at you, the fireteams are to focus on the Bears and not the riders. Have your men aim for the eyes and mouth if they're able. Give them a quick death. Alright, that's about everything I had thought up ahead of time. Ask your questions if you have them."
Falla stood from her seat, face drawn and pale. Her movement gained the attention of the rest. "They'll kill us all, won't they?"
Grenwin met the new captain's eyes steadily, ignoring the way the others all turned to watch her reaction.
"The Bears are strong and deadly, but when it comes to a fight, each acts independently from the others. Keep your section in line and working with the rest and we won't have anything to fear."
Falla crossed her arms, setting her jaw stubbornly. She shifted from foot to foot as she held Grenwin's gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it, shaking her head and sitting with a sullen expression.
"What do we do if Maia's dead by the time we get there?" Ombyr stood, concern wrinkling his ruddy features. "What do we do then?"
The questions sent a wave of disturbed expressions through the leaders of the first ten, and the newcomers looked at them with concern. Falla looked vindicated for a second, then annoyed; Grenwin reckoned that must have been what she'd been about to say.
It wasn't something Grenwin wanted to think about; she forced herself to consider it anyway. If Maia was gone… Her chest tightened and her eyes prickled as they watered. She forced the feelings down, focusing on the matter at hand. They'd still have the fabricator and the recycler, and the analysts poring through the Archive, and their army. Sicknesses would become a problem, though, without Maia there to deal with them. Her aspirations of teaching would come to an end, at least until they could pick up the slack, and without the time compression, everything would take longer to achieve. If Ygdis was still with them, she and Grenwin might still be able to find others who could channel and train them as best they could; if not, Grenwin didn't think she could do it on her own.
They'd survive, Grenwin thought. It would be difficult, but the dream wouldn't die with her. Not as long as her memory lived.
"It would be devastating for us," Grenwin admitted. "We'd lose much of what we've come to enjoy. It wouldn't be our end, though. We could recover. We'd still get ourselves south of the Wall, build something of our own there, and have the means to defend it. Maia's… She's important, but she isn't everything. It'll be hard without her, but we were born harder than that. We've started something that's going to carry on."
A thoughtful expression crossed Ombyr's face and he nodded to her, taking a seat. "That's all I needed to know," he admitted.
"Who'd replace her?" Baernir spoke up.
Every eye turned towards Grenwin.
"No," Grenwin declared, crossing her arms and scowling at them. "Not me. If we need to find someone, we will. This talk doesn't leave this room, you understand? It's just going to rile up the power-hungry and the foolish, and that's the last thing we need right now."
To Grenwin's surprise, Ombyr was the first to support her, thumping a fist on the table and glaring at Baernir. "Aye, she's right. We're better off without the chaos that thought'll cause."
Bearnir raised his hands defensively, as though he could ward off the glares directed at him from the other leaders.
"Forget I said anything," he offered, "I'll keep my mouth shut."
"Moving on," Grenwin said, taking back the room's attention and gesturing to the boards, "Let's get back to work."
The mood of the room was somber as they spent the next few hours working out plans for the coming confrontation. Grenwin was glad that there was no shortage of ideas from her captains; more often than not, one would raise a concern and two or three others would propose varied solutions. She felt that it was a vast improvement over the hasty plotting they'd used to address the slavers at Hardhome. The new faces were a boon, bringing entirely new perspectives. By the time noon rolled around, they'd put together more than Grenwin thought they'd need, and their list of potential problems was long enough that she was sure they'd thought up everything that might go wrong. They broke for lunch; after, the squad leaders would gather their men and begin drilling in the new formations, and Grenwin aimed to speak to Ellir.
She was the last to leave the room. Grenwin stayed to wipe the boards clean with a rag before heading out, flicking the lights off behind her. The Tower was bustling now, and she passed by analysts, soldiers, and a pair of Symon's engineers hefting stacks of wooden slates. Most acknowledged Grenwin, and she had to remind herself to reply in kind; Maia had done her best to prepare Grenwin for the position she'd taken on, and she'd stressed that reciprocity would do much of the work for her. Still, taking the time to slow and return a passing greeting or salute was beginning to grate on her. She left the Tower through the plaza door; despite the height of the sun, thick clouds obscured the sky. Grenwin's coat flapped against her hip and her braid swung as a chill wind caught them.
Following the street to the plaza, Grenwin passed between the tenements. They were wide buildings, and the carved stonework rose like cliff faces on either side. At street level, the stone was worked into little murals framed by flowering vines. Heedless of passers-by, her eyes lingered on them, tiny renditions of First Fork as it had been before Maia joined them. Grenwin remembered the day her friend had gone around asking for stories of the village and her chest tightened.
Everything will be fine, she told herself. Laine would stick to her demands and Maia was sturdier than she looked.
The plaza was emptier than usual, though the sounds of cheerful people and laughing children still washed over her as she strode across it. A peal of thunder rolled from the silver-black clouds overhead and the few outside called out to the kids playing on the grass, ushering them back to shelter. The sound of hammering came from the workshop's forge as a group of shirtless men worked a chunk of glowing metal and tore down a bloomery. Another group pulled a sled bearing chunks of red rock up the ramp from the hangar, tossing the rocks onto a small pile of others, and more were working at breaking those stones down into pebbles.
Grenwin was pleased to see the forge in use. She'd heard Lom demanding more cookware the other day; some of the engineers had been hammering out iron pots and pans since. Much of it was being done by trial and error, though she'd been assured that the analysts had been dredging up information on smithing from the Archive for the engineers to try and work out. They may not be forging weapons, but it was a hopeful sight, nonetheless.
She stopped by the Lodge long enough to grab a steaming skewer and wolf it down. The roast elk had been coated in a sweet sauce that left her mouth tingling pleasantly, and it left her mouth cool and refreshed after chasing it with water. Satiated, she set off towards the village's heart tree.
Ellir had taken up residence in the old Chief's cabin, a small wooden hut nestled among the pale roots of the weirwood; Teagj wasn't using it and had turned it over to her without much fuss. Grenwin crossed the plaza, eyeing the canopy of blood-red leaves waving in the wind overhead. Ombyr hadn't been wrong, she saw; the old man's face carved into the tree was leaking sap from the eyes. The sensation of being watched settled over her as she approached, and she paused, staring at the carving. That was unusual.
A gust of wind sent the leaves fluttering. A woman laughed in the distance, but try as she might, Grenwin couldn't figure out from where.
Shaking her head, she pushed on, walking up to the cabin's door. It had been replaced by a thicker, heavier slab hanging on new hinges sometime recently, but Grenwin couldn't recall when. Must have been one of Maia's off-time projects, given the distinctive carvings adorning it. An iron knocker hung, and Grenwin tapped it against the wood a couple of times.
"Ellir! You in there?" She yelled through the door.
It pushed outward, revealing the younger Laine. She smiled up at Grenwin with gleaming steel eyes.
"Come in!" Ellir's voice called from within.
"You having fun?" Grenwin asked the girl, patting her on the head as she entered the cabin.
Laine nodded and beamed at her, following at her heels and closing the door behind her.
Grenwin found Ellir in the back room, standing before an old table and grinding at a mortar with a pestle. Strewn around the table were bundles of small flowers tied up with twine. Laine moved around her, sitting on a low bench formed by the heart tree's exposed roots and taking up a basket filled with more flowers, sorting them into piles. A shuttered window let in some light from outside, though an oil lamp hung from a rafter and shone more brightly. Ellir had hung many of the trinkets Grenwin remembered helping her move on rough nails pounded into the wooden walls, lending the space a completely different atmosphere than when Teagj had taken residence.
"So," Ellir began as she set aside the mortar and pestle, turning and leaning her hip on the table, "What did you all figure out?"
Grenwin found a small stool nearby and sat on it, leaning her elbows on her legs and interlacing her fingers.
"We've been given three days to prepare, so that's what we're doing. I'll be taking the Knight and some of the army to get our people back."
"I see," Ellir nodded. "What do you suppose should be said about this?"
Grenwin blinked at her. "What?"
"People are going to talk. The wrong kind will whip up a frenzy like nothing else. Best if we say something first."
"I'm not sure there's anything to say," Grenwin frowned, "We'll have our people back and expel the raiders. We just need a few days to ready ourselves." Shaking her head, Grenwin regretted the hard anti-wight focus they'd had during training. If they'd spared some time for other possible threats, Bears especially, they'd have already moved out.
"I'll see to it the other elders are aware." Ellir nodded, as though something had been decided.
Meeting her cool blue eyes, Grenwin sat up straight. She hadn't even considered informing that lot. "Oh. Yes, please do."
Ellir smiled at her, blowing aside a stray lock of snowy hair that had fallen across her face. She leaned forward, asking intently, "The dream you had. Tell me everything you remember."
Grenwin nodded and told the rejuvenated elder every detail. It was still fresh enough in her mind, and for those portions she wasn't as sure of, she still had her notes to remind her. Ellir listened quietly, nodding every so often and encouraging her to continue. It didn't take long before Grenwin had finished, leaving Ellir looking thoughtful.
"Strange. That's nothing at all like the dreams others have brought to me." A rueful grin pulled at her lips and she shook her head, "I'm inclined to believe this is a truer reflection of the world than those. It seems clear to me that the Moon has an interest in us, and is there any wonder why?" Gesturing out the window, Ellir shrugged.
Grenwin understood that much; little wonder that the old gods would be curious at all the changes happening here.
"What does it mean?"
Ellir shrugged again, "I have no idea. It was your dream, not mine. You tell me."
Glowering at the other woman, Grenwin turned it over in her head. She knew the details, she just didn't know the picture they formed. Looking around the room, she searched for inspiration. Her eyes fell on Laine, who was calmly sorting through flowers.
"Ellir, you told us about the slaver camp at Hardhome. You said," Grenwin searched through her memories, "Something about an Eshe?"
"Oh, yes, that." Ellir nodded, blue eyes sparkling with glee, "She's come back to us after all these years. It's an interesting story, I think. Maia asked me for guidance the day before, you see, and after some discussion, she agreed to undergo a guiding ritual. I brewed a potion to send her on her way, though it may have been a little strong. After she'd returned, she told me she'd met a woman calling herself Eshe and had been shown things I'd never heard of. At first, I thought I'd prepared the brew wrong and Maia had merely been dreaming. I quaffed the rest after Maia went for a walk in the moonlight. That night, I found Eshe and we spoke at length, and she led me to Hardhome's grave and told me of the slavers." Ellir blinked in realization, looking at Laine. "I suppose she had more reasons than she let on at the time. I wonder, did she know we would bring the freedmen back with us?"
Grenwin remembered that night, remembered being woken by Maia just before she'd left through a Gateway. She shut her eyes and sighed. Maia must have still been affected by whatever Ellir had brewed. More, she remembered strong moonlight shining through the windows.
"Ellir, there was a full moon that night, wasn't there?"
Ellir nodded. "Yes, there was. The ritual wouldn't have worked otherwise."
"How are Eshe and the Moon connected?"
Pursing her lips, Ellir lifted a hand, inspecting her palm. "All I have is what my mother's mother told me of her, and that isn't much. She desired power and paid for it with her life. She led First Fork for a time as chieftess. She came across the eastern sea, and she was the only survivor of a shipwreck."
Grenwin clenched her hands and growled with frustration. "That doesn't tell me anything."
"You could ask her yourself," Ellir offered, "We've a full moon coming soon and the potion is not difficult to brew. Even if it doesn't work, you'll not feel anything in the morning."
"Maybe I will," Grenwin said slowly, considering the idea. By that point, the elder Laine would have been driven back and Ygdis, Maia, and the rest of Grenwin's people would be safe. She'd be able to spare a night if it meant getting answers. "Another question, then. What is the Moon?"
"One of the old gods, I believe," Ellir said after a moment's consideration. "One of the oldest. If you're asking what motives she has or what she might do, I can't tell you."
"But it is a she?"
Ellir crossed her arms, "That's how the stories refer to her, and that's how my mother spoke of her."
"So, you don't know for certain?"
"I've learned I know very little, and I'm certain of that."
Grenwin sighed. "Well, alright. That's another thing to ask Eshe. I should start a list," she japed lightly.
Ellir nodded seriously, "You should. It would help." Her eyes softened after a moment, and she asked, "Grenwin, what are you going to do about Maia?"
Taken aback, Grenwin was momentarily confused, feeling her brows furrow. "What do you mean?"
Uncrossing her arms, Ellir sat on the edge of the table and grinned mischievously. "She adores you, you must know."
Grenwin's hand moved to one of her belt pouches and she felt the little statuette within. The smile Maia had given her after she'd figured out her Gateways came to mind, and Grenwin felt warmed from head to toe all over again. Her heart fluttered against the thawing chill in her breast and something squirmed in her belly.
"I know," she said quietly, feeling a smile tugging at her own lips at the memory.
Raising a hand to her mouth, Ellir hid a smile and softly laughed. "Well, the two of you ought to do something about that."
"…I'm not going to take her, Ellir. That would be..." Wrong was the first word to come to mind, followed by wonderful. Grenwin couldn't finish the thought, shaking her head viciously. Her cheeks burned with a blush, and she stared down at the pelt rug between her boots.
"I didn't say that, did I?" Ellir chuckled again. "The two of you should talk about it. Everyone's been watching you dance around each other for a while now. If you don't do something soon, someone else will."
"Who?!" Grenwin demanded, meeting the other woman's eyes. After a moment, she noticed they were sparkling in amusement.
"That would be telling," Ellir grinned at her behind her fingers.
Grenwin's cheeks felt aflame, and she stood. "I think I've had enough of your teasing for today. Thank you again for taking care of Laine. I'm off to see Herrick, I have to make sure Sigrid's practice Bears stand up to the real thing."
Ellir's eyebrow lifted.
Grenwin fled the cabin, peals of light laughter chasing her out.
AN- Grenwin V
I'm not sure what to say about this one. It took some time, but it wasn't out of any difficulties with the narrative. Next chapter will be the confrontation, and after that comes the Forging at long last.
I've rewritten and replaced the first chapter. I'm quite happy with how it turned out. It's been two years since I posted it and it deserved the revamp. More to come!
- Location
- Massachusetts
Welp, I can't say I've ever seen a celesial SI cripple themselves to such an extent. I wonder if this means that this version of the ability is tied to the True Power? Here's hoping we don't have a walking wounded arc.
I'm not sure if this makes the situation interesting but it certainly makes First Fork vulnerable.
Kudos on balancing the escalation aspect of things! The ability really is insanely broken for any sort of gripping conflict to occur without severe escalation. Maia would have been fighting Anti-Spirals within the month.
I'm not sure if this makes the situation interesting but it certainly makes First Fork vulnerable.
Kudos on balancing the escalation aspect of things! The ability really is insanely broken for any sort of gripping conflict to occur without severe escalation. Maia would have been fighting Anti-Spirals within the month.
Hey, I appreciate that! It's not the True Power, I'm not sure how I could justify that
Maia's hurt herself pretty bad, but this is the kind of injury that'll show her some possible things she can do.
Finding the balance is so difficult and I'm always second guessing myself, so thank you very much. It's nice to have feedback on that!
Maia VIII: Ill Timing
"Maia, is this wise?"
I pulled my gaze away from the bare blade resting across my crossed legs, meeting Grenwin's concerned gaze.
We sat across from each other on Grenwin's pelt rug. Late morning sunlight shone through the window behind her, casting her auburn locks in golden light. The fire nearby burned lowly and smoke curled up around the rafters to a vent on the peaked ceiling above us. A goat's bleating sounded outside as Misa, Inella's daughter, guided the animal past the window.
What a silly question to ask.
"It's fine, Gren. It's just funny metal."
I tapped the matte reddish-black metal with my fingernails in emphasis, enjoying the quiet ting-ting they made. My fingers felt as light as my buoyant mood when I moved them, though they almost seemed to move too quickly, as though my thoughts were wading through water while my body remained free.
Grenwin didn't appear to be very convinced or to be enjoying the fine day. Instead, she'd been worried since she caught me climbing the heart tree earlier. Sure, I'd been hanging upside-down from a branch when she found me, but I'd made it down just fine.
"I've never seen anything like that before," Grenwin said with trepidation, vibrant green eyes flicking down to the sword across my knees. "You said you cut yourself and it lit up. That's strange, Maia, and strange is dangerous."
My head felt stuffed full of wool as it tilted to the side of its own accord and I blinked at her. I'd been called strange often over the last couple of days, but this is the first time anyone's said that.
"I'm dangerous?"
She gave me a flat look and blew out an exasperated sigh.
"Well, you are strange. Fine, go ahead and show me."
I felt a grin grow as I bobbed my head in a nod. My left hand took the hilt and turned it so the blade's edge faced upward. I stuck my right thumb out and hovered it close to the edge, idly noting that it wobbled a little too much. Focusing, I steadied my hand before meeting Grenwin's eyes again.
"Alright, watch," I told her eagerly as I slid my thumb along the blade.
The pain was sharper than I expected as it cut a little deeper than I wanted. My nanites helpfully alerted me to the damage, giving me a detailed analysis as blood not only flowed from severed capillaries but was actively being sucked out of my finger. The nanites present in the fluid vanished as they made contact with the sword and the wound seemed to resist the nanites' efforts to mend it. At the same time, the hilt began to heat under my palm and a chill gathered at the edge of my thoughts.
Fascinating.
"Ow, ow ow, oh, that's interesting."
Grenwin gasped, eyes wide and fixed on the blade. Her hands gripped at the trousers over her knees, bunching them up beneath white-knuckled fingers.
Waves of soft scarlet light rippled outward along the dark metal from where I'd cut myself. They were more vibrant than before, bouncing along the flat. A thin red vapor rose from the edge wherever the ripples made contact and fell back, as if coating the blade, before condensing and dripping to the rug between my legs. The strange phenomenon evaporated away in moments, the hilt cooling, and the chill fading from my mind.
"See? It's weird, isn't it?" I asked Grenwin without looking away from the sword. "It almost seems like it's consuming my blood. I wonder what will happen if I feed it more?"
Grenwin's wide eyes flicked up to mine, then back to the blade. She swallowed thickly before wetting her lips, and her voice was strained with fear.
"Aye, it's strange. Where, ah, where did you say you found it, again?"
I shrugged at her, "One of my lights, I think, though I think I remember seeing it somewhere else before. It's a mystery!" That last came out a little more brightly than I'd intended, though Grenwin's lips twitched upward in momentary amusement. I wondered for a moment if it would react the same to her. Carefully lifting the sword, I offered it in her direction.
"Want to try? I'll heal you up after!"
Her face turned ashen as the blood drained out of it. She stared at me as though I'd grown a second head.
"What? You want me to bleed myself on that?"
Nodding to her, I pushed the sword in her direction again.
"I want to see what happens. Please?"
Grenwin scrunched her eyes shut, lips held tight together as she took a deep breath in through her nose. After a moment, she nodded, opening her eyes and reaching out to the sword. She glanced at me again, hand trembling above the edge, then carefully slipped the tip of her little finger along it. Pulling her finger back, a crimson droplet grew there before dripping onto the dark metal, splashing against it.
The sword's reaction was far lesser, a faint ripple of light shimmering around Grenwin's blood as it slowly drew it in. There was no vapor this time, nor did the hilt warm that I could feel.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that," I told her, setting the sword back down and reaching over to fix her up.
Grenwin took my hand, squeezing it hard, eyes focused where her blood had vanished. She shook her head, auburn hair shifting over her shoulders, then met my gaze.
"That wasn't so bad. What were you expecting, Maia?"
"I don't know, more than that, I guess. Wonder why it didn't work as well for you."
Her eyebrows rose and some of the color began to return to her features.
"Maybe it has to do with your wings?"
"Ah!" I snapped my fingers, pointing at her, "I bet you're right! Lemme check myself out for a second."
Nodding, Grenwin squeezed my hand again. It didn't seem that she had any intention to let go.
Recalling the way my nanites had given me a detailed overview of Grenwin's physiology when I'd first healed her, I closed my eyes and tried making them do that for my own body. It worked; after a moment, they rendered a multicolored model of my biology in my thoughts. Immediately, significant anomalies and deviations from the human norm stood out to me. Sending the machines over to my friend, I compared what I saw of her to what I saw in myself.
My neurology was odd, the neurons packed more densely within my brain, especially in the regions governing sensory processing, and there were several structures I didn't recognize. Even stranger, I found a pair of peculiar organs situated between my frontal and parietal lobes, incredibly active clusters of neurons clinging to something crystalline and inorganic at their cores. My nanites couldn't make heads or tails of those and Grenwin lacked the structures, so I made a mental note to come back to it later.
My bones were abnormal as well. They were more porous than they should be, almost hollow, and rather than the calcium apatite foundation I saw in Grenwin's, they were composed of an iron-calcium compound that appeared to serve the same function. There were more bones than I ought to have, though most of the extras were in my wings.
Those were structured like elongated hands, connected to stubby wrist-like structures fused to my shoulder blades, and I lacked the neural connections to actively move them. Instead, they were tied into my autonomic nervous system, and I watched as the muscles in the finger analogues moved in reaction to my sense of wonder, spreading the wings wider. The feathers, as I'd thought, were packed with nerves and a series of blood vessels that enabled them to expand and contract.
My blood was stranger still. There was an extra fluid present alongside a slew of cells and compounds I didn't recognize nor could divine the function of, and there was something else present that very subtly interfered with my nanites' movement. I had no explanations for any of this; my grasp of biology was limited to a few college courses and I couldn't make any sense of what it meant. I could only assume that the extra factors were what the sword was somehow making use of.
Retracting the nanites from Grenwin, I opened my eyes and found myself at a loss for words. What could I say? That I was only partially human, if at all?
She must have seen my confusion, as her brows furrowed in concern.
"What is it? What did you find?"
I opened my mouth to speak before I'd formed the words. Closing it, I looked at the hand she held and frowned, then said, "I'm really not sure at all. I think I have to think about it."
"How are you feeling?"
Her concerned tone pulled my eyes back up to meet hers.
Grenwin leaned close to me, pressing the back of her free hand against my forehead. She frowned and muttered, "Hm, maybe that's a fever. You're not normally this warm."
If there was a fever, the nanites weren't telling me about it.
Shrugging at her, "I feel, ah…"
Now that I was looking, I felt very odd indeed. The room began to shift from side to side, tilting slightly back and forth. That wasn't normal, I didn't think.
"I feel like I'm strange. My body feels strange, I mean. Like it's moving too fast for my mind to keep up."
"You're swaying," Grenwin noted, and once she'd pointed it out, I found I was; that explained the room swimming around me.
"So I am!" I granted readily, grinning broadly at her. Her expression was very amusing.
She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before saying slowly and clearly, "I think you're sick, Maia. Do you understand?"
Understanding felt a tall order, just then. I nodded anyway, beaming at her, then was mystified by the expression she wore. I couldn't tell what it was, though I knew she'd been concerned only a moment before; that wasn't normal, I didn't think.
A man's faint shouts drifted in through the window and Grenwin's head snapped to look. She swore, then grabbed me by the shoulders and peered into my eyes.
"Maia, stay here. I need to check this out."
My chin bobbed up and down as I nodded, "Okay, go have fun!"
Her jaw clenched and she shook her head, standing quickly. She moved over to her bed and pulled a round wooden shield from under it, the front painted in a faded red bear's paw. She strapped it to her arm and grabbed her spear from where it stood next to the door, pulling that open. She hesitated for a moment, turning my way before repeating her earlier statement in a commanding tone.
"Stay here!"
With that, she ran out of the hut, slamming the door shut behind her.
I wondered what all that was about, taking up my sword's hilt and putting it back across my lap. It likely wasn't any of my business, if Grenwin's tone was anything to go by. My attention drifted back to the sword and the way it seemed to like to drink my blood. Maybe if I gave it more, something interesting would happen?
My mind suddenly made up, I slid my hand along the edge, wincing as I accidentally cut deeper than I'd wanted. My nanites warned me of the significant damage, but I put it aside as I watched the bright crimson light rippling out along the blade.
"Go on," I urged it, "Do something. Take as much as you need, I've got plenty!"
The blade flared brightly, blinding me for a moment. There was the sensation of snapping, as though something ephemeral had just broken, and the hilt burned under my hand. The cold spot at the edge of my thoughts intensified, sharpening somehow, and then it spoke, a freezing wind that blew away the wool stuffing my head and left behind a sudden, stark clarity.
"At last! I am free once more!"
It sounded like a woman, her tone haughty and dripping with eagerness.
What?!
Stunned, I couldn't respond. Blinking my vision clear, I found the blade transformed, the previously dull metal shining crimson and alight with scarlet-black fire. The fire rippled and dripped from the sword, pooling on the fur rug without burning. I couldn't move my fingers, my hand clamped firmly around the hilt as the fire crept towards my skin.
Outside, I heard more shouting, and then Grenwin bellowed, "First Fork! To me! To me, First Fork!"
Urgency filled me as I heard the call, but I couldn't move a muscle. The strange fire reached my hand, burning through my skin, into my muscles and along my nerves. It hurt like nothing else I'd experienced before, a horrible creeping pain that intensified as the fire traveled up my arm. I wanted to shout, to scream for help, to throw the sword away, but I was helpless to act. The cold spot pulsed and spoke again.
"I sense your need. Accept me and I will lend you my strength."
Screaming in my own head back at it, "Let me go! It hurts and I need to help them!"
The shouting outside grew more urgent as men and women I'd come to know charged past the window. Something was happening out there and I needed to help. Grenwin told me to stay, but I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
"Accept me and the pain will cease. We are already partially bound, you and I, and I cannot stop the process. Can you?"
I tried desperately to force it away, to attack the fire in my flesh with the nanites, but they burned away without slowing the progression up my arm. I felt it in my veins, burrowing almost like a physical thing under my skin and through my muscles and bones. I had the nanites try separating the tissues, severing portions of my arm that fell to land wetly among the fur. I saw my black bones and wanted to retch, and the nausea grew as I watched the flames creeping up them. It was already up to my shoulder, too far for me to stop.
"I can't, please, just stop!" I screamed and screamed in my thoughts, trying to hurt the cold thing like it was hurting me. A spike of pain stabbed at my brain and my head throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
"You are only harming yourself! Cease this and accept me!"
In a sudden moment of clarity, I realized I couldn't do anything. There was nothing I could do to stop this. Something deep within me snapped and I couldn't struggle any longer. I wished I could die instead, but even that was denied me. My resistance evaporated and I stared brokenly at the sword as I let it in.
"I accept," I thought, and for a moment, the pain flared as the fire surged through me. Then it was over, my nanites restoring my damaged arm, and I could move again.
Outside, the shouting was turning frantic, and now they were bellowing loud cries. There was screaming, too, screams of pain and shock. I needed to go, to help them. It was all I had left.
The woman spoke again, cold voice kinder now.
"I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you."
I ignored her, standing and making for the door. My legs felt stiff and I had to force them to move, and I didn't bother to carry the sword properly, letting it drag on the ground behind me. Stumbling out into the sunlight, I squinted against the glare and picked up speed as I followed the sounds of distress.
Turning around an old building, I saw a group of unfamiliar men fighting several of the villagers in the street. I saw Wyck standing over a fallen Misa alongside Inella, the pair warding the strangers off with spears. Across the narrow street, stout Gudrid and Hild were on the ground, surrounded and being beaten with cudgels.
The strangers themselves were dressed for the weather in an unfamiliar style, and some held long poles with loops of rope on the end they tried to catch Wyck and Inella with.
"Slavers!" The woman spat out with loathing in my head. "Kill them, girl!"
Nodding woodenly, I held the sword up as I shifted to a run, charging the strangers. I wasn't entirely in control of myself as the cold in my head seemed to guide my movement.
The slavers were too occupied with the villagers to notice my charge. I held the blade out to the side as my feet pounded through the snow. I was close enough to smell the strange perfumes the three slavers standing over Gudrid and Hild wore when I swung the sword, the long blade arcing through the air and leaving a trail of scarlet-black fire behind it. I felt no resistance as the edge passed through the slavers, cutting them in two. I felt numb as they fell, turning and charging those harassing Wyck and Inella.
The sword felt as though it was acting of its own accord as it had me raise my arms and cut down into the nearest stranger, then turned my waist to sweep the blade through the remaining two before they could do more than look at me. I looked wildly around the street, half expecting to see more, but it was just us now. Ignoring the way Wyck and Inella backed warily away from me, I knelt to check over Misa, healing her of a bad concussion before moving to restore Gudrid and Hild.
Ygdis' cry of despair and horror rose nearby and my head snapped in that direction. My legs moved of their own accord as I sprinted around the corner and between two shacks.
There were two slavers in the alley facing the way I was coming, both carrying crossbows. I couldn't make the distance between us as they shouted in surprise and raised their weapons, a pair of loud twangs sounding in the air as they loosed.
The bolts struck me like twin fists, punching through my parka and lodging in my heart and spleen, staggering me. My heart shredded itself on the barbed iron tip and I screamed from the awful sensation. The nanites tore at the foreign objects as I recovered, the stubs falling away from my skin. A wild cry rose from my lips as I leaped at them, catching them both with the blade in a wild slash.
I could hear Ygdis shouting close by. Bursting out to another street, I saw the rest of First Fork battling the slavers. I almost stumbled over Teagj's fallen form, sparing a moment to reach down and heal away the bolts in his belly.
He took my offered hand, rising to his feet and taking up his spear. He nodded once, "Thanks. Help the others!"
Then, he was gone, running to rejoin the battle.
I found Dagmoor nearby, torso studded with bolts. It seemed the one in his right shoulder was the oldest wound by the blood clotting there, though I wasted little time in wondering at it. He gasped back to awareness as my nanites gave him a little jolt to the brain stem, staring up at me with wide eyes.
A flash of copper at the edge of my vision stole my attention.
Ygdis had been separated from the others, the slavers carrying her away from the fighting. They had Sigrid, too, and kindly Frerthe.
Focus narrowing, I rushed towards them, screaming a wild, wordless battle cry. It felt savage, drawn up from deep within me. My heart pounded wildly and blood thundered through my ears as my feet splashed through crimson mud. The air was heavy with the thick scents of offal and feces and blood.
I slashed at the slavers, downing one of them and taking the arm of another with a scarlet-black arc of flame. The wounded man, his face scarred across a damaged nose, stumbled out of the way of a follow-up, backing away out of reach and fleeing. His blood fell to the snow and steamed in the frigid air.
My vision blinked as a cudgel came down on the back of my skull, my nanites healing the concussion nigh-instantly. I whirled and the red-black blade carved through the skull of a clean-shaven man who stared at me with stunned brown eyes for a second before his face split in two and he fell.
Rope fell across my shoulders and tightened, pulling me hard to the side. I thrashed against it, falling as the sword cut through the wooden pole. A moment later, five pairs of boiled leather boots pounded past me. One paused for a moment, and I looked up to see Misa offering me a hand. Taking it, she pulled me up to my feet, pointing at the slavers and shouting.
"Come on!"
Then she was gone, spear in hand to join Wyck and the others I'd helped as they savaged the slavers holding Sigrid and Frerthe with spears and knives.
I ran after those trying to carry Ygdis away. Some looked back at me with terror in their eyes. The numbness inside grew as I cut them apart, forcing them to drop Ygdis. In a moment, the group was in pieces on the ground around her, and she panted wildly, staring at me with wide, maddened eyes. She shouted at me, pointing back up the street.
"Help Gren!"
Turning, I saw the battle was all but over, the remaining slavers being butchered by the villagers.
I sought for the auburn hair I needed to find and the numbness shattered like glass when I saw Grenwin slumped against the earthen slope of a cabin, staring up at the heart tree's canopy above and hand grasping at a bolt over her heart. Her spear, the one I'd made for her, lay in the snow next to her and her shield was nowhere to be seen.
The broken shards carved deep through my mind as I sprinted over, stark horror filling me and hot rage twisting in my chest as I slid to a stop next to her. I slapped my palm down over her hand, flooding her body with the nanites.
She was dying, a hair's breadth from total brain death. My nanites worked as fast as I could make them, but it wasn't fast enough to fix the cascading failures. Oxygen deprivation had already set in. There was too much damage already, too much blood lost, her shredded heart trying in vain to beat.
"No!" The cry spilled from my lips, words coming before thoughts formed. "No, no! You can't go! I need you!"
The cold voice spoke in my thoughts once more.
"Your blood, girl. Give her your blood."
Desperate, I latched onto her command, taking up my belt knife and slashing Grenwin's wrist, then my own, pressing the wounds together. The nanites chained together into tubes that linked my veins and arteries to hers, transfusing my blood to make up for what she'd lost. I ordered the nanites to remove the bolt and set her heart pumping again in time with my own. I could only watch as the strange compounds in my blood provoked stranger reactions in her tissues as they passed, easing the nanites' struggles to repair the damage. It flooded into her brain, stabilizing the death cascade.
"Please, Grenwin," I murmured to her, "Please don't go. I want you to live!"
Grenwin began to recover in fits and starts. I felt my own strength draining out of me, jellying my muscles. I couldn't keep myself upright, slumping over to lay across her legs. My head was facing out towards the battleground, my black hair a veil that obscured the details of the bloodied snow and mud. The rest of First Fork was up now, I saw.
Herrick slashed the throat of a kneeling slaver and kicked him over. Sigrid knelt over another, driving her knife into their torso with mechanical motions. Wyck and Inella hugged Misa between them, and I thought I saw him looking my way. Ygdis was limping over to Grenwin and me, face drawn in muted horror. More began to congregate around us, seemingly unwilling to approach, staring with wide eyes and fearful expressions as they murmured to each other. Symon pushed his way to the front of the crowd, using his crutch to clear the way, then stopped dead and stared slack-jawed.
The snow around us began to turn pink. It took me a moment to realize that there was a light shining around Grenwin and me. It took all of my effort to turn my head to look up to her face and I gasped. Her skin was glowing, a vibrant pink shade, and her face was fixed in a rictus smile of pain. Glimmers of the light sparkled in the air, small pink petals that formed from nothing and fell slowly before fading away. To my horror, the skin around her left eye turned gray and ashen, the color spreading up and back around her head. A strip of her auburn hair paled to a dull, listless silver.
"It appears she has decided to live. I am so sorry, girl."
Grenwin gasped, jerking upright as the last shreds of my strength were yanked out of me.
My vision dimmed, eyelids too leaden to keep open as they drooped shut. Vaguely, I felt strong arms lifting to carry me, the sword falling from my numb fingers. The murmurs of the villagers around us rose to victorious cheers, muted and distant in my ears. Grenwin spoke, her voice strong and clear, but the meaning of it passed me by. Relief filled my fading mind as I slipped away into comforting darkness.
I pulled my gaze away from the bare blade resting across my crossed legs, meeting Grenwin's concerned gaze.
We sat across from each other on Grenwin's pelt rug. Late morning sunlight shone through the window behind her, casting her auburn locks in golden light. The fire nearby burned lowly and smoke curled up around the rafters to a vent on the peaked ceiling above us. A goat's bleating sounded outside as Misa, Inella's daughter, guided the animal past the window.
What a silly question to ask.
"It's fine, Gren. It's just funny metal."
I tapped the matte reddish-black metal with my fingernails in emphasis, enjoying the quiet ting-ting they made. My fingers felt as light as my buoyant mood when I moved them, though they almost seemed to move too quickly, as though my thoughts were wading through water while my body remained free.
Grenwin didn't appear to be very convinced or to be enjoying the fine day. Instead, she'd been worried since she caught me climbing the heart tree earlier. Sure, I'd been hanging upside-down from a branch when she found me, but I'd made it down just fine.
"I've never seen anything like that before," Grenwin said with trepidation, vibrant green eyes flicking down to the sword across my knees. "You said you cut yourself and it lit up. That's strange, Maia, and strange is dangerous."
My head felt stuffed full of wool as it tilted to the side of its own accord and I blinked at her. I'd been called strange often over the last couple of days, but this is the first time anyone's said that.
"I'm dangerous?"
She gave me a flat look and blew out an exasperated sigh.
"Well, you are strange. Fine, go ahead and show me."
I felt a grin grow as I bobbed my head in a nod. My left hand took the hilt and turned it so the blade's edge faced upward. I stuck my right thumb out and hovered it close to the edge, idly noting that it wobbled a little too much. Focusing, I steadied my hand before meeting Grenwin's eyes again.
"Alright, watch," I told her eagerly as I slid my thumb along the blade.
The pain was sharper than I expected as it cut a little deeper than I wanted. My nanites helpfully alerted me to the damage, giving me a detailed analysis as blood not only flowed from severed capillaries but was actively being sucked out of my finger. The nanites present in the fluid vanished as they made contact with the sword and the wound seemed to resist the nanites' efforts to mend it. At the same time, the hilt began to heat under my palm and a chill gathered at the edge of my thoughts.
Fascinating.
"Ow, ow ow, oh, that's interesting."
Grenwin gasped, eyes wide and fixed on the blade. Her hands gripped at the trousers over her knees, bunching them up beneath white-knuckled fingers.
Waves of soft scarlet light rippled outward along the dark metal from where I'd cut myself. They were more vibrant than before, bouncing along the flat. A thin red vapor rose from the edge wherever the ripples made contact and fell back, as if coating the blade, before condensing and dripping to the rug between my legs. The strange phenomenon evaporated away in moments, the hilt cooling, and the chill fading from my mind.
"See? It's weird, isn't it?" I asked Grenwin without looking away from the sword. "It almost seems like it's consuming my blood. I wonder what will happen if I feed it more?"
Grenwin's wide eyes flicked up to mine, then back to the blade. She swallowed thickly before wetting her lips, and her voice was strained with fear.
"Aye, it's strange. Where, ah, where did you say you found it, again?"
I shrugged at her, "One of my lights, I think, though I think I remember seeing it somewhere else before. It's a mystery!" That last came out a little more brightly than I'd intended, though Grenwin's lips twitched upward in momentary amusement. I wondered for a moment if it would react the same to her. Carefully lifting the sword, I offered it in her direction.
"Want to try? I'll heal you up after!"
Her face turned ashen as the blood drained out of it. She stared at me as though I'd grown a second head.
"What? You want me to bleed myself on that?"
Nodding to her, I pushed the sword in her direction again.
"I want to see what happens. Please?"
Grenwin scrunched her eyes shut, lips held tight together as she took a deep breath in through her nose. After a moment, she nodded, opening her eyes and reaching out to the sword. She glanced at me again, hand trembling above the edge, then carefully slipped the tip of her little finger along it. Pulling her finger back, a crimson droplet grew there before dripping onto the dark metal, splashing against it.
The sword's reaction was far lesser, a faint ripple of light shimmering around Grenwin's blood as it slowly drew it in. There was no vapor this time, nor did the hilt warm that I could feel.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that," I told her, setting the sword back down and reaching over to fix her up.
Grenwin took my hand, squeezing it hard, eyes focused where her blood had vanished. She shook her head, auburn hair shifting over her shoulders, then met my gaze.
"That wasn't so bad. What were you expecting, Maia?"
"I don't know, more than that, I guess. Wonder why it didn't work as well for you."
Her eyebrows rose and some of the color began to return to her features.
"Maybe it has to do with your wings?"
"Ah!" I snapped my fingers, pointing at her, "I bet you're right! Lemme check myself out for a second."
Nodding, Grenwin squeezed my hand again. It didn't seem that she had any intention to let go.
Recalling the way my nanites had given me a detailed overview of Grenwin's physiology when I'd first healed her, I closed my eyes and tried making them do that for my own body. It worked; after a moment, they rendered a multicolored model of my biology in my thoughts. Immediately, significant anomalies and deviations from the human norm stood out to me. Sending the machines over to my friend, I compared what I saw of her to what I saw in myself.
My neurology was odd, the neurons packed more densely within my brain, especially in the regions governing sensory processing, and there were several structures I didn't recognize. Even stranger, I found a pair of peculiar organs situated between my frontal and parietal lobes, incredibly active clusters of neurons clinging to something crystalline and inorganic at their cores. My nanites couldn't make heads or tails of those and Grenwin lacked the structures, so I made a mental note to come back to it later.
My bones were abnormal as well. They were more porous than they should be, almost hollow, and rather than the calcium apatite foundation I saw in Grenwin's, they were composed of an iron-calcium compound that appeared to serve the same function. There were more bones than I ought to have, though most of the extras were in my wings.
Those were structured like elongated hands, connected to stubby wrist-like structures fused to my shoulder blades, and I lacked the neural connections to actively move them. Instead, they were tied into my autonomic nervous system, and I watched as the muscles in the finger analogues moved in reaction to my sense of wonder, spreading the wings wider. The feathers, as I'd thought, were packed with nerves and a series of blood vessels that enabled them to expand and contract.
My blood was stranger still. There was an extra fluid present alongside a slew of cells and compounds I didn't recognize nor could divine the function of, and there was something else present that very subtly interfered with my nanites' movement. I had no explanations for any of this; my grasp of biology was limited to a few college courses and I couldn't make any sense of what it meant. I could only assume that the extra factors were what the sword was somehow making use of.
Retracting the nanites from Grenwin, I opened my eyes and found myself at a loss for words. What could I say? That I was only partially human, if at all?
She must have seen my confusion, as her brows furrowed in concern.
"What is it? What did you find?"
I opened my mouth to speak before I'd formed the words. Closing it, I looked at the hand she held and frowned, then said, "I'm really not sure at all. I think I have to think about it."
"How are you feeling?"
Her concerned tone pulled my eyes back up to meet hers.
Grenwin leaned close to me, pressing the back of her free hand against my forehead. She frowned and muttered, "Hm, maybe that's a fever. You're not normally this warm."
If there was a fever, the nanites weren't telling me about it.
Shrugging at her, "I feel, ah…"
Now that I was looking, I felt very odd indeed. The room began to shift from side to side, tilting slightly back and forth. That wasn't normal, I didn't think.
"I feel like I'm strange. My body feels strange, I mean. Like it's moving too fast for my mind to keep up."
"You're swaying," Grenwin noted, and once she'd pointed it out, I found I was; that explained the room swimming around me.
"So I am!" I granted readily, grinning broadly at her. Her expression was very amusing.
She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before saying slowly and clearly, "I think you're sick, Maia. Do you understand?"
Understanding felt a tall order, just then. I nodded anyway, beaming at her, then was mystified by the expression she wore. I couldn't tell what it was, though I knew she'd been concerned only a moment before; that wasn't normal, I didn't think.
A man's faint shouts drifted in through the window and Grenwin's head snapped to look. She swore, then grabbed me by the shoulders and peered into my eyes.
"Maia, stay here. I need to check this out."
My chin bobbed up and down as I nodded, "Okay, go have fun!"
Her jaw clenched and she shook her head, standing quickly. She moved over to her bed and pulled a round wooden shield from under it, the front painted in a faded red bear's paw. She strapped it to her arm and grabbed her spear from where it stood next to the door, pulling that open. She hesitated for a moment, turning my way before repeating her earlier statement in a commanding tone.
"Stay here!"
With that, she ran out of the hut, slamming the door shut behind her.
I wondered what all that was about, taking up my sword's hilt and putting it back across my lap. It likely wasn't any of my business, if Grenwin's tone was anything to go by. My attention drifted back to the sword and the way it seemed to like to drink my blood. Maybe if I gave it more, something interesting would happen?
My mind suddenly made up, I slid my hand along the edge, wincing as I accidentally cut deeper than I'd wanted. My nanites warned me of the significant damage, but I put it aside as I watched the bright crimson light rippling out along the blade.
"Go on," I urged it, "Do something. Take as much as you need, I've got plenty!"
The blade flared brightly, blinding me for a moment. There was the sensation of snapping, as though something ephemeral had just broken, and the hilt burned under my hand. The cold spot at the edge of my thoughts intensified, sharpening somehow, and then it spoke, a freezing wind that blew away the wool stuffing my head and left behind a sudden, stark clarity.
"At last! I am free once more!"
It sounded like a woman, her tone haughty and dripping with eagerness.
What?!
Stunned, I couldn't respond. Blinking my vision clear, I found the blade transformed, the previously dull metal shining crimson and alight with scarlet-black fire. The fire rippled and dripped from the sword, pooling on the fur rug without burning. I couldn't move my fingers, my hand clamped firmly around the hilt as the fire crept towards my skin.
Outside, I heard more shouting, and then Grenwin bellowed, "First Fork! To me! To me, First Fork!"
Urgency filled me as I heard the call, but I couldn't move a muscle. The strange fire reached my hand, burning through my skin, into my muscles and along my nerves. It hurt like nothing else I'd experienced before, a horrible creeping pain that intensified as the fire traveled up my arm. I wanted to shout, to scream for help, to throw the sword away, but I was helpless to act. The cold spot pulsed and spoke again.
"I sense your need. Accept me and I will lend you my strength."
Screaming in my own head back at it, "Let me go! It hurts and I need to help them!"
The shouting outside grew more urgent as men and women I'd come to know charged past the window. Something was happening out there and I needed to help. Grenwin told me to stay, but I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
"Accept me and the pain will cease. We are already partially bound, you and I, and I cannot stop the process. Can you?"
I tried desperately to force it away, to attack the fire in my flesh with the nanites, but they burned away without slowing the progression up my arm. I felt it in my veins, burrowing almost like a physical thing under my skin and through my muscles and bones. I had the nanites try separating the tissues, severing portions of my arm that fell to land wetly among the fur. I saw my black bones and wanted to retch, and the nausea grew as I watched the flames creeping up them. It was already up to my shoulder, too far for me to stop.
"I can't, please, just stop!" I screamed and screamed in my thoughts, trying to hurt the cold thing like it was hurting me. A spike of pain stabbed at my brain and my head throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
"You are only harming yourself! Cease this and accept me!"
In a sudden moment of clarity, I realized I couldn't do anything. There was nothing I could do to stop this. Something deep within me snapped and I couldn't struggle any longer. I wished I could die instead, but even that was denied me. My resistance evaporated and I stared brokenly at the sword as I let it in.
"I accept," I thought, and for a moment, the pain flared as the fire surged through me. Then it was over, my nanites restoring my damaged arm, and I could move again.
Outside, the shouting was turning frantic, and now they were bellowing loud cries. There was screaming, too, screams of pain and shock. I needed to go, to help them. It was all I had left.
The woman spoke again, cold voice kinder now.
"I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you."
I ignored her, standing and making for the door. My legs felt stiff and I had to force them to move, and I didn't bother to carry the sword properly, letting it drag on the ground behind me. Stumbling out into the sunlight, I squinted against the glare and picked up speed as I followed the sounds of distress.
Turning around an old building, I saw a group of unfamiliar men fighting several of the villagers in the street. I saw Wyck standing over a fallen Misa alongside Inella, the pair warding the strangers off with spears. Across the narrow street, stout Gudrid and Hild were on the ground, surrounded and being beaten with cudgels.
The strangers themselves were dressed for the weather in an unfamiliar style, and some held long poles with loops of rope on the end they tried to catch Wyck and Inella with.
"Slavers!" The woman spat out with loathing in my head. "Kill them, girl!"
Nodding woodenly, I held the sword up as I shifted to a run, charging the strangers. I wasn't entirely in control of myself as the cold in my head seemed to guide my movement.
The slavers were too occupied with the villagers to notice my charge. I held the blade out to the side as my feet pounded through the snow. I was close enough to smell the strange perfumes the three slavers standing over Gudrid and Hild wore when I swung the sword, the long blade arcing through the air and leaving a trail of scarlet-black fire behind it. I felt no resistance as the edge passed through the slavers, cutting them in two. I felt numb as they fell, turning and charging those harassing Wyck and Inella.
The sword felt as though it was acting of its own accord as it had me raise my arms and cut down into the nearest stranger, then turned my waist to sweep the blade through the remaining two before they could do more than look at me. I looked wildly around the street, half expecting to see more, but it was just us now. Ignoring the way Wyck and Inella backed warily away from me, I knelt to check over Misa, healing her of a bad concussion before moving to restore Gudrid and Hild.
Ygdis' cry of despair and horror rose nearby and my head snapped in that direction. My legs moved of their own accord as I sprinted around the corner and between two shacks.
There were two slavers in the alley facing the way I was coming, both carrying crossbows. I couldn't make the distance between us as they shouted in surprise and raised their weapons, a pair of loud twangs sounding in the air as they loosed.
The bolts struck me like twin fists, punching through my parka and lodging in my heart and spleen, staggering me. My heart shredded itself on the barbed iron tip and I screamed from the awful sensation. The nanites tore at the foreign objects as I recovered, the stubs falling away from my skin. A wild cry rose from my lips as I leaped at them, catching them both with the blade in a wild slash.
I could hear Ygdis shouting close by. Bursting out to another street, I saw the rest of First Fork battling the slavers. I almost stumbled over Teagj's fallen form, sparing a moment to reach down and heal away the bolts in his belly.
He took my offered hand, rising to his feet and taking up his spear. He nodded once, "Thanks. Help the others!"
Then, he was gone, running to rejoin the battle.
I found Dagmoor nearby, torso studded with bolts. It seemed the one in his right shoulder was the oldest wound by the blood clotting there, though I wasted little time in wondering at it. He gasped back to awareness as my nanites gave him a little jolt to the brain stem, staring up at me with wide eyes.
A flash of copper at the edge of my vision stole my attention.
Ygdis had been separated from the others, the slavers carrying her away from the fighting. They had Sigrid, too, and kindly Frerthe.
Focus narrowing, I rushed towards them, screaming a wild, wordless battle cry. It felt savage, drawn up from deep within me. My heart pounded wildly and blood thundered through my ears as my feet splashed through crimson mud. The air was heavy with the thick scents of offal and feces and blood.
I slashed at the slavers, downing one of them and taking the arm of another with a scarlet-black arc of flame. The wounded man, his face scarred across a damaged nose, stumbled out of the way of a follow-up, backing away out of reach and fleeing. His blood fell to the snow and steamed in the frigid air.
My vision blinked as a cudgel came down on the back of my skull, my nanites healing the concussion nigh-instantly. I whirled and the red-black blade carved through the skull of a clean-shaven man who stared at me with stunned brown eyes for a second before his face split in two and he fell.
Rope fell across my shoulders and tightened, pulling me hard to the side. I thrashed against it, falling as the sword cut through the wooden pole. A moment later, five pairs of boiled leather boots pounded past me. One paused for a moment, and I looked up to see Misa offering me a hand. Taking it, she pulled me up to my feet, pointing at the slavers and shouting.
"Come on!"
Then she was gone, spear in hand to join Wyck and the others I'd helped as they savaged the slavers holding Sigrid and Frerthe with spears and knives.
I ran after those trying to carry Ygdis away. Some looked back at me with terror in their eyes. The numbness inside grew as I cut them apart, forcing them to drop Ygdis. In a moment, the group was in pieces on the ground around her, and she panted wildly, staring at me with wide, maddened eyes. She shouted at me, pointing back up the street.
"Help Gren!"
Turning, I saw the battle was all but over, the remaining slavers being butchered by the villagers.
I sought for the auburn hair I needed to find and the numbness shattered like glass when I saw Grenwin slumped against the earthen slope of a cabin, staring up at the heart tree's canopy above and hand grasping at a bolt over her heart. Her spear, the one I'd made for her, lay in the snow next to her and her shield was nowhere to be seen.
The broken shards carved deep through my mind as I sprinted over, stark horror filling me and hot rage twisting in my chest as I slid to a stop next to her. I slapped my palm down over her hand, flooding her body with the nanites.
She was dying, a hair's breadth from total brain death. My nanites worked as fast as I could make them, but it wasn't fast enough to fix the cascading failures. Oxygen deprivation had already set in. There was too much damage already, too much blood lost, her shredded heart trying in vain to beat.
"No!" The cry spilled from my lips, words coming before thoughts formed. "No, no! You can't go! I need you!"
The cold voice spoke in my thoughts once more.
"Your blood, girl. Give her your blood."
Desperate, I latched onto her command, taking up my belt knife and slashing Grenwin's wrist, then my own, pressing the wounds together. The nanites chained together into tubes that linked my veins and arteries to hers, transfusing my blood to make up for what she'd lost. I ordered the nanites to remove the bolt and set her heart pumping again in time with my own. I could only watch as the strange compounds in my blood provoked stranger reactions in her tissues as they passed, easing the nanites' struggles to repair the damage. It flooded into her brain, stabilizing the death cascade.
"Please, Grenwin," I murmured to her, "Please don't go. I want you to live!"
Grenwin began to recover in fits and starts. I felt my own strength draining out of me, jellying my muscles. I couldn't keep myself upright, slumping over to lay across her legs. My head was facing out towards the battleground, my black hair a veil that obscured the details of the bloodied snow and mud. The rest of First Fork was up now, I saw.
Herrick slashed the throat of a kneeling slaver and kicked him over. Sigrid knelt over another, driving her knife into their torso with mechanical motions. Wyck and Inella hugged Misa between them, and I thought I saw him looking my way. Ygdis was limping over to Grenwin and me, face drawn in muted horror. More began to congregate around us, seemingly unwilling to approach, staring with wide eyes and fearful expressions as they murmured to each other. Symon pushed his way to the front of the crowd, using his crutch to clear the way, then stopped dead and stared slack-jawed.
The snow around us began to turn pink. It took me a moment to realize that there was a light shining around Grenwin and me. It took all of my effort to turn my head to look up to her face and I gasped. Her skin was glowing, a vibrant pink shade, and her face was fixed in a rictus smile of pain. Glimmers of the light sparkled in the air, small pink petals that formed from nothing and fell slowly before fading away. To my horror, the skin around her left eye turned gray and ashen, the color spreading up and back around her head. A strip of her auburn hair paled to a dull, listless silver.
"It appears she has decided to live. I am so sorry, girl."
Grenwin gasped, jerking upright as the last shreds of my strength were yanked out of me.
My vision dimmed, eyelids too leaden to keep open as they drooped shut. Vaguely, I felt strong arms lifting to carry me, the sword falling from my numb fingers. The murmurs of the villagers around us rose to victorious cheers, muted and distant in my ears. Grenwin spoke, her voice strong and clear, but the meaning of it passed me by. Relief filled my fading mind as I slipped away into comforting darkness.
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Author's Note: Maia VIII
Notes:
Maia's sickness hit her harder than she expected. She is not well throughout this chapter.
The sword is heavily inspired by the visual design behind Sekiro's mortal blade, though the mechanics behind its functionality are drawn from GRRM's other works. I recommend reading Bitterblooms; it's quite good.
Maia's physiology is abnormal. Some of you might recognize iron-rich black bones from elsewhere in Westeros. As for the wings, she is a chimera and absorbed her malformed twin while in the womb. This is also why she is so short and has green-blue heterochromia. Her blood hearkens back to Sekiro and Bloodborne, both having large influences on how I've been establishing the world east of Yi-Ti.
While the woman in the sword might come as a surprise, there is precedent elsewhere in GRRM's writings for a consciousness to be uploaded to an artificial medium and maintained. The sword isn't just fancy metal.
I hope the battle against the slavers is better written this time. The first iteration left a lot to be desired in hindsight.
The man Maia wounded is named Adaro Sanyr. Originally, First Fork had captured several of the slavers alive for interrogation, then decided to give them a humiliating death by stripping, scalping, and being forced out of town in the freezing cold. Here, he keeps his hair in exchange for an arm. He's Maia's first nemesis and closely linked to a powerful Myrish magister.
The moment Maia sees Grenwin is the moment she began to resist the sword's control, represented by the "numbness" she felt through the fight. She's entirely herself after this happens. In her normal state of mind, she would actively seek out the wounded before engaging; instead, she's firmly in "kill the slavers" mode, and Grenwin nearly died for it. I'm not joking, the roll came too close for comfort, just meeting the DC I had set. If she died, she would have stayed dead and I would have had to have dealt with the ramifications of that.
Maia sacrificed something of herself to give Grenwin the chance to live again. Grenwin isn't whole, nobody is after coming back from death, but she's in much better shape than Beric Dondarion was after he was revived, to say nothing of Lady Stoneheart.
Maia's sickness hit her harder than she expected. She is not well throughout this chapter.
The sword is heavily inspired by the visual design behind Sekiro's mortal blade, though the mechanics behind its functionality are drawn from GRRM's other works. I recommend reading Bitterblooms; it's quite good.
Maia's physiology is abnormal. Some of you might recognize iron-rich black bones from elsewhere in Westeros. As for the wings, she is a chimera and absorbed her malformed twin while in the womb. This is also why she is so short and has green-blue heterochromia. Her blood hearkens back to Sekiro and Bloodborne, both having large influences on how I've been establishing the world east of Yi-Ti.
While the woman in the sword might come as a surprise, there is precedent elsewhere in GRRM's writings for a consciousness to be uploaded to an artificial medium and maintained. The sword isn't just fancy metal.
I hope the battle against the slavers is better written this time. The first iteration left a lot to be desired in hindsight.
The man Maia wounded is named Adaro Sanyr. Originally, First Fork had captured several of the slavers alive for interrogation, then decided to give them a humiliating death by stripping, scalping, and being forced out of town in the freezing cold. Here, he keeps his hair in exchange for an arm. He's Maia's first nemesis and closely linked to a powerful Myrish magister.
The moment Maia sees Grenwin is the moment she began to resist the sword's control, represented by the "numbness" she felt through the fight. She's entirely herself after this happens. In her normal state of mind, she would actively seek out the wounded before engaging; instead, she's firmly in "kill the slavers" mode, and Grenwin nearly died for it. I'm not joking, the roll came too close for comfort, just meeting the DC I had set. If she died, she would have stayed dead and I would have had to have dealt with the ramifications of that.
Maia sacrificed something of herself to give Grenwin the chance to live again. Grenwin isn't whole, nobody is after coming back from death, but she's in much better shape than Beric Dondarion was after he was revived, to say nothing of Lady Stoneheart.
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I've been working on rewriting it. The old chapters are still in Apocrypha, save the ones I cannibalized for the first eight.
Ahh ok. Fair enough. Will give the rewrite a read.
Wait, so did we just backtrack over 150k words of progress? I feel like this could have used some sort of announcement or something. Is all that --the Knight, the digital database, the Gem Biology, the dragon and the girl, the giants and their Stedding--everything just gone and noncanon now? A branching timeline from some point way earlier in the fic? Or is the plan to regain those same perks and events in same order, but having better established character relationships and world lore before they arrive?
I apologize! I probably should have made an announcement, but I didn't want to bump the thread until I'd put up a good chunk of the rewrite.
Yes, she'll be regaining most of the same perks and most of the same events will happen. I needed to cut away a lot of the excess stuff I had included while I wasn't thinking and to better establish the things I'm keeping. I plan on moving the situation with Grenwin's mother up to follow the first battle of first fork rather than taking place as late as it did before, so what happened to Ygdis is still going to happen. The Ogier have to go, as well as much of the Dream stuff, the spirit shenanigans, Kasey and Mai's residual imprints, and Bei and the Carcosan fleet. Those elements didn't make too much sense in hindsight and I didn't really use them as well as I should have.
There's a part of the story that just goes haywire that I'd produced after the year long hiatus and I've been trying to make up for it since. I thought I could go back and fix those chapters, but the problems were more fundamental and it happened long enough ago that much of the current structure was messed up. I tried cutting the problems out, but it led to more inconsistencies and more problems, so I had to go back to the start and shift things around. I'm aiming for better pacing and consistency (especially with chapter length and what happens in them), and I'd like to have an actual plot rather than meandering everywhere while things just kinda happen.
Ygdis I: A Thing o' First Fork
Ygdis fell to the blood-soaked snow, landing on her tailbone with a pained grunt. The sounds of battle felt distant to her ears as her heart hammered a rapid drumbeat under her breast. Around her lay the still-twitching pieces of the buggers trying to take her away, crimson draining out of them. The smell of copper and offal filled her nose and mouth as she tried to catch her breath. Panic had her in a firm grip, squeezing tight as she stared at her savior.
Maia stood over her, framed by the red-handed canopy of the heart tree, soaked in gore. She held her overlarge sword to the side easily, the metal of it blazing in bloody-black flames that fanned Ygdis's terror. Her pale face was smeared with drying grit, expression flat. The worst to see were her eyes, blue and green irises hollow and empty as they regarded her. Gone was the diminutive woman who'd seemed friendly enough; in her place stood a creature of the deep snows, a horror from the old stories.
I mocked her, mocked that sword. Oh, gods, why did I do that?! She's going to kill me for it!
Ygdis panted heavily, body frozen in fear. The blow she expected never came. Maia only stared at her dully. Slowly, Ygdis recognized that look, a combination of battle-shock and what she'd seen some women wear after being taken. She swallowed her fear, a sliver of hope shining through. Maia could do wondrous things, Grenwin had been hit badly, and Ygdis lifted her arm to point back to where the Ice Wife lay dying.
"Help Gren!"
The words came out a desperate shout, half-command, half-plea.
Maia turned smoothly to face up the street. She searched with her dead eyes for a second before they widened and a wail burst from her lips. She was off and running a moment later, leaving Ygdis shaking and surrounded by dying meat.
Ygdis's eyes stung and she took a moment to rub furiously at them before trying to stand. She ached. The slavers had taken to beating her with boots and cudgels before picking her up, and her right leg clicked painfully when she put weight on it. She saw her spear lying in the snow nearby and tried to limp for it, stumbling back to land in a small pile of guts that had slipped free of a man's body. She retched at the sensation of flesh squishing beneath her weight and between her fingers, her belly emptying itself painfully.
She crawled towards her spear 'till she was in cleaner snow, scrubbing her hands furiously in the cold powder before taking her weapon up. She levered herself up and leaned heavily on it for a second as she took stock of the battle.
First Fork was victorious, she saw. The few slavers trying to run fell with arrows in their backs, those who had given up were being killed out of hand. Casting her gaze around, relief filled her as she saw most everyone up and standing. That relief froze to ice around her heart as her eyes fell on where Grenwin lay against an earthen slope with Maia kneeling next to her.
Ygdis limped forward, using her spear to support herself as she slowly made her way closer. She couldn't look away as Maia pulled a knife and slashed Grenwin's wrist, then her own, and pressed the wounds together. Confusion warred with the fear for her mentor's, no, her sister's safety. Grenwin was as kin to her, the only kin Ygdis had left in the world, and she couldn't lose her too. She felt ashamed she could only admit that now after it seemed too late.
She told herself that Grenwin was strong, that the Ice Wife would be well, but she'd seen the bolt that buried itself in Grenwin's breast. The slaving fuckers had taken one look at the towering warrior and loosed their crossbows. Why did it have to be her? Did they see her as their battle-chief? Ygdis cursed them with every step.
Spite filled her as she saw the chief and his lickspittle standing tall. They should have taken Teagj instead! He deserved it for taking her mother's place! For taking their home from them! For taking everything he'd found within for himself! He wouldn't even give Ygdis her mother's necklace, a beautiful dragonglass arrowhead that she'd worn as long as Ygdis had known! It was hers by right! If the gods were just, he'd suffer for his crimes against her.
The other villagers had begun to crowd around Grenwin and Maia, blocking Ygdis's sight of them. Furiously limping as fast as she could, she pushed her way past Hild and Luta, ignoring the sounds of surprise and concern from the older women, and froze at what she saw.
A pale red light surrounded Grenwin, as though the air itself was suffused with the glow. Her face was alight, too, her skin radiating the strange energy and her lips drawn in agony. Maia was draped across her lap, laying limp with her black hair veiling her features, illuminated just the same. Glimmers sparkled in the air, a thousand falling petals of strange flowers, fading in and out of sight. Terror fought against Ygdis's shock and growing panic as the skin around Grenwin's eye turned ashen and a strip of her auburn locks faded to a dull gray. The pink radiance pulsed as Grenwin gasped and jerked upright, fading entirely in another moment as though nothing had happened.
"Witchery," Hild muttered hollowly behind Ygdis.
Old Luta murmured back with audible fear, "She a wight, now?"
"No!" Ygdis hissed at the slim woman, "Look at her eyes! No blue, see?"
Grenwin blinked several times, looking around at the gathered First Forkers. Her vibrant green eyes met Ygdis's and she grinned, picking up the limp Maia as she made to stand. She stood solidly, showing no sign of her brush with death, studying the crowd.
Maia's sword fell to the snow, the sorcerous flames pooling like water around it.
"We lose anyone?" Grenwin asked them all in a firm tone.
The First Forkers looked around at each other, a small chorus of surprised "No" coming in reply. Wyck started laughing, then Sigrid, and soon they were all cheering as their victory became clear. Ygdis found herself caught between Hild and Luta as they clung together and laughed with relief. All around her, others were doing the same, patting each other, clapping shoulders, and wrapping arms around to hold tightly. Ygdis squeezed her way free with a grunt of pain, stumbling forward.
Grenwin caught her as she fell with one strong arm, the other holding Maia's limp form close. A moment later Ygdis was being squeezed close, Grenwin murmuring thanks to the gods for her safety in her ear.
"I thought that was it," Grenwin muttered lowly to her. "Thought I broke my promise to you. I couldn't move, couldn't keep you safe, Ygdis."
The Ice Wife buried her face in the crook of Ygdis's neck and shuddered; Ygdis felt cool moisture on her skin.
Ygdis's eyes burned as her own tears flowed and she clung back. They stood like that for a long moment before Grenwin pulled away with a deep breath, scrubbing at her face with a fist. Ygdis didn't bother to wipe her tears away.
"Maia did 'em in," she told Grenwin, "She took that mighty sword to the fucks."
Grenwin sighed, "I owe her twice over, then." She turned her face up to the grasping canopy above them, red hands waving as though in a gale, "The gods are feasting. They almost had me, Yg. I tried to get away, to stay, but they didn't want me to. I heard Maia pleading with them and…" She looked back to meet Ygdis's eyes steadily, "She gave them something for my life, I think."
Ygdis's throat constricted and she swallowed thickly. "What're you saying?"
Grenwin shrugged, shaking her head, auburn grey-striped locks spilling across her shoulders. "Dunno. I have to think on it." Then, she turned to the gathered villagers and spoke loudly and clearly, "I'm calling a Thing. We need'ta talk. I'm going to see to Maia first. We can clean this mess up after."
They quieted gradually, Teagj stepping forward to peer at her.
"You, call a meet? What right have you?"
Grenwin took a step toward him, towering over the muscled man and baring her teeth at him. Then, she looked past him to everyone else, meeting their eyes in turn. Wyck was the first to nod, then Inella, Misa, and soon the rest. Even Dagmoor, brown eyes flicking to the back of Teagj's head, nodded and said, "I'll set the braziers."
He walked away, shooting glances back every few steps. Herrick followed him, and then the others started drifting away after them.
"Symon," Grenwin called to the man as he turned to leave, "We might need your medicine."
The black-bearded man nodded. "Very well. After you."
Grenwin nodded to him, then turned to Ygdis, "Coming?"
Ygdis nodded back to her, following Grenwin as she set a steady pace fit for her and Symon to her cabin.
Grenwin pushed the door open with her foot and moved to lay Maia on her bed, then sat heavily on the ground next to it, shoulders slumping. She looked tired, resting her elbows on her knees and tilting her head back against the wall as she watched Ygdis and Symon enter.
Ygdis stepped on something that squished under her boot. Looking down, she lifted it, seeing a strip of bloody flesh lying in the fur of the rug. There were others strewn around it, and the blood congealing there had a strange shimmer, as though something pale had been mixed into it. She shuddered, turning to Grenwin.
"Gren, what's this?" She tapped at the meat with her toe.
Grenwin's gaze fell to look, eyes widening in surprise and revulsion. Grimacing, she said with muted horror, "Maia fell sick this morning. She was playing with her sword 'fore the raid. She must've cut herself badly."
"Sick, you say?" Symon limped over to look, dark eyes glittering with concern. He glanced back to Maia, then the strips of flesh on the ground. "I am not sure why she appears unharmed if this was hers." He poked at the meat with his crutch, turning it over to reveal pale skin stained with blood. His tone was even as he noted, "Looks to be part of her arm."
Grenwin stared at the flesh for a moment before shaking her head. "She can heal herself like nothing I've ever seen. I'll be having words with her on this, don't you worry." She sighed deeply, "We'll burn that with the rest of the bodies later. See to her first, Crow."
Symon grunted, turning to move by the bedside. He pressed his fingers to the side of Maia's throat, leaning over to listen to her breathing. "Her heart is steady and her breathing is clear," he noted, opening one of her eyes to study it. He snapped his fingers in front of it, then puffed a burst of air at it. Whatever reaction he was looking for, Symon seemed to have found it as he stood.
"She is in good health, as far as I can determine, merely exhausted. She should recover, given time to rest."
"Good." The relief was audible in Grenwin's tone.
"What was that light?" Ygdis found herself asking hoarsely, drawing their eyes.
"Dunno," Grenwin replied quietly.
Symon knelt by the Ice Wife, reaching out to poke at the gray skin along the side of her face. She slapped his hand away, glaring at him.
"Don't touch me. I'm well enough."
"As every mighty warrior claims after a battle," Symon mocked as he stood again. "Very well." Turning to Ygdis, he studied the way she leaned on her spear, "And you?"
Ygdis nodded, sitting on the end of the bed and stretching her bad leg out before her. "This leg hurts, keeps clicking when I walk."
He moved over, kneeling by her leg and pressing at it with his fingertips. Ygdis hissed as he pushed at a sore spot by her knee. He glanced at her, "This is a minor wound, it should heal well so long as you avoid walking. No running, either. Understand?"
"I do," Ygdis told him. Gesturing with her spear, "Fine to walk with this?"
Symon frowned at her, "No. You ought to rest."
"After the Thing," Ygdis said firmly, "I can rest then."
"Do as you will, then."
Grenwin took a breath and stood, "Let's leave Maia be. Come, Ygdis. You too, Symon. You're one o' us, much as you pretend not to be." She clapped him on the shoulder, "Many thanks for seeing to us."
"It is what I do," Symon said simply.
He and Ygdis followed Grenwin back outside into the sunlight. They made their way to the hall, where the others were already gathering and speaking their minds loudly.
"We ought to make for Mance's camp!" Wyck's shout drifted out of the open door to the hall, "The Others came once, they'll come again! And there'll be no slavers that far from the eastern sea!"
The three of them made their way to the door, the interior hazy with smoke from the peat burning in braziers mounted in the corners. They cast a warm glow that added to the sunlight spilling through the door. Ygdis saw Teagj and Wyck standing off, the former wearing a bemused expression while Wyck's face was furious, his hands clenched as though to strike. Everyone, save Jorni and Lorni, was present, most sitting around the room on the floor or on whatever came to hand.
"Leave, then," Teagj jabbed a finger at Wyck's shoulder, "Prove yourselves craven."
Wyck's face flushed, eyes narrowing. He was about to throw his fist at Teagj, Ygdis knew, but was interrupted by the hush that fell.
Everyone fell silent as they saw the Grenwin entering, looking at her with expressions of uncertainty and disbelief. There was relief on those faces as well, Ygdis saw, and the fatigue that followed battle. It felt to her that the room was thick with conflict and fear.
Wyck lowered his fist as he glanced at Grenwin. He shook his head, blowing out a breath through the dark hair over his lips. "The three o' us are no cravens," he growled at Teagj, then raised his voice to carry over the room. "We know what leaving will do for the rest o' you. We won't abandon First Fork like the others. We all go, or none o' us do."
A smattering of "Aye" met his words from around the room, most loudly from Inella and Misa. Teagj shrugged and backed off, "Fine enough. We need every pair o' hands. Glad you see sense, Wyck."
Wyck's eye twitched violently, and then he turned to Grenwin, snubbing Teagj.
"What's this about, Gren?
Ygdis's leg weakened a few steps in and she had to sit, coming to rest cross-legged between Old Luta and Dagmoor, both making space for her. She watched as the Ice Wife walked towards the center of the hall without speaking. Teagj and Wyck both backed off, Wyck with deference while Teagj tried to wear airs of grace; Ygdis wondered if he even knew how false he looked when he did that. Green eyes cast about them all as Grenwin slowly turned. Her voice was firm and steady, carrying across the room and silencing the lingering murmurs.
"I was dead. Maia brought me back. Anyone have a problem with that?"
Stunned silence met her words, laying heavy across the hall.
"No," Ygdis called loudly, breaking the spell. Herrick echoed her, and Wyck, and soon the rest joined them.
Teagj declared, "She healed me, too. And Dagmoor."
"And I," Misa added.
"Us, too," Hild and Gudrid spoke together.
Grenwin met each of their eyes in turn, nodding. "I say this now, listen well: She means us no harm. She has shared with me her desire to see us safe and free below the Wall, to share her knowledge with us, to heal us when we are ill or wounded, and to provide us with the means to stand on our own."
Silence lingered for a moment before Inella spoke up in her reedy voice, "She fought with us. We should take her with us when we go."
Wyck and Misa nodded at that, the man speaking a loud "Aye" in support.
"She's a monster," Frerthe said quietly from the edge of the crowd. She met the eyes turned her way without flinching, "You all saw what she did with that cursed blade. Tell me she's not a beast out o' the stories, playing pretend to put us off guard."
Low murmurs of assent rose to that. Herrick stood and spat on the stone floor, glaring at the plump woman, "Aye, we saw her doing the slavers in. Dead is dead, what difference does a flaming sword make? And don't forget who made that stool you're sitting on, Frerthe. Why do that if she's here to hurt us?"
Frerthe glared back at him, "So says her pet."
Herrick clenched his fists, cheeks turning ruddy with anger, hissing back, "I'm nobody's pet! Yer blind if you can't see what she could do for us!"
"Quiet!" Grenwin bellowed, cutting through the argument like a knife. Both of them glanced at her, Frerthe scowling, Herrick crossing his arms and wearing a thunderous expression. Slightly softer, Grenwin's tone still brooked no argument as she told them, "Let others speak. Argue later. Fight it out if you need."
Herrick nodded sharply, glaring at Frerthe as he sat back on a wooden crate.
Sigrid spoke up, voice wavering. "She gave us salt and flour, didn't ask for anything in return, not like the stories. But…" She frowned at Grenwin, "Magic is dangerous. Look what it did to you." Her hand reached up to trail fingers along the side of her face.
"And I'm fine," Grenwin told her evenly. "I'm not dead. If my face is sore, so be it. Better that than dying."
"Is it?" Sigrid asked her quietly, concern clear on her face, "You know what she did to you? Do any o' us?"
"We can ask when she wakes," Grenwin told her, voice firm but kind. "She'll tell us then."
Old Luta spoke up next to Ygdis, her voice carrying clear through the murmuring. "She won't even tell us where she's from! I ask and she refuses to answer!"
Ygdis saw Dagmoor and Teagj nodding to that, along with several others, some wearing thoughtful expressions, others angry.
"It's her right!" Ygdis called out, "We've all got secrets."
"Oh?" Luta peered at her, leaning close and taking a strand of Ygdis's hair in her fingers, "I see no gray here. Secrets are one thing, witchcraft another! Mind your place, girl."
Ygdis bristled at her, knocking her hand away and snarling. "And where were you when my mother died, Luta? Your own kin?"
Luta flinched as though struck, shaking her head as she rose to move across the room. She refused to meet Ygdis's eyes, shame clear across her face.
"She came just before the Others!" Frerthe called out with anger, "She brought them to us!"
Chaos erupted at that as a clamor grew. Grenwin stood unmoved, crossing her arms and expression turning bored as she waited. Ygdis didn't know what she was about, but she trusted the Ice Wife.
"You've no sense!" Herrick shouted at Frerthe, his sentiment echoed by Misa's loud "Quit lyin', Frerthe!"
Hoark, Teagj's boy, spat out, "She's right, the stranger came 'fore the Others!"
Teagj rounded on him, slapping him lightly across the cheek, "Quiet, boy!"
Grenwin waited a moment longer before taking a deep breath and bellowing in a voice that crushed the clamor beneath it.
"Enough!"
The word rang out in the air loudly enough that it stunned the room to silence. Grenwin's tone was iron as she said, "None o' us can deny that Maia came before the Others did. That is true." Frerthe made a sound like she was about to speak and Grenwin whipped her head around to stare her down. "First thing she said was to warn me o' a wight at Han's Ford. She told the same to Teagj. I was there, Frerthe."
"The she-bear speaks true," Teagj spoke up, only to receive a glare from Grenwin.
"My clan has weathered the Others longer than most. I'll share what I know o' them now and put this foolishness to rest." Grenwin surveyed the room as she continued, "They are a strange foe, aye, but they have some sense to them. Not all o' them act alike. Those that came for us, they are the kind that comes in the wake o' thundersnow, chasing storms across the land. When they strike at a village, they take everyone and leave nothing behind. It is for this that I believe that what Maia saw at Han's Ford was of a different kind, a kind that lurks near villages and traveler's shelters. That kind will leave wights in ambush, or as sentries, I dunno which. It is this kind that brings the creeping cold that seeps into our homes and dampens our fires. To tell it clear, Maia did not bring the Others. The storm brought them. Now, I'll hear no more o' this foolishness, Frerthe! If she meant to give us over, why shelter us? What do the Others gain from that? Nothing!"
Ygdis nodded thoughtfully and saw most of the rest doing the same. Even Frerthe, who looked like she'd just swallowed something sour, acknowledged Grenwin's point.
Gudrid spoke into the quiet, "What Frerthe said before," she raised her hands defensively as Grenwin turned her green eyes on her, "About Maia, er, being a monster. Maybe she's not with the Others, aye, but we've all heard the tales o' snow beasts."
Misa stood, facing Gudrid, "Ye, but the stories say they wear the faces of old greybeards or pretend to be woods witches, and Maia isn't either."
"She made us soaps, like a woods witch might," Herrick added thoughtfully.
"Misa's right," Ygdis said in support of her friend, "I talked to Maia and asked if she was a woods witch. She didn't even know what they were, didn't want any titles or anything. That's not at all like the stories."
Ygdis levered herself back to standing, leaning heavily on her spear. She took a breath and put firmness into her voice.
"After she cut down the slavers carrying me off, I thought she might kill me. I thought she was a creature o' the deep snow at that moment. I mocked her when she first arrived and I thought she'd do me in for it." Shaking her head, Ygdis looked over the crowd and met their eyes, "I was wrong. You know what I saw? A woman in pain and battle-shock. I was the one to tell her to help Grenwin. The sound she made when she saw Gren… No creature who meant us harm would wail like that."
She had to sit a moment later, happy to have put voice to that. The reactions ranged from disbelief to agreement, and even Frerthe nodded an acknowledgment to Ygdis.
"Why's she got them wings, then?" Hild asked. "And she looks nothing like us. Maybe not a snow beast, but what is she?"
"She's strange," Sigrid spoke. "Strange is dangerous. We all saw what she did with that sword. How do we know she won't hurt us?"
"Never seen eyes like hers before, either," Dagmoor said darkly. "She's not any kind o' free folk I ever saw."
Symon cleared his throat from where he leaned against the wall near the door, all eyes turning towards him.
"May I speak?"
"Go on," Grenwin granted, "You've as much right as any o' us."
"The crow's no right to speak, Grenwin!" Old Luta shouted, flinching as the Ice Wife turned a sharp look at her.
"Speak, Symon," Grenwin commanded without looking away from the older woman.
"Right, yes. I have seen features like Maia's before. Merchantmen from Yi-Ti sometimes trade at the Planky Town. They have long eyes and broad foreheads like she does; I believe she has traveled a very long way to come here, but she is not a creature of your stories."
Ygdis remembered what Maia had said about waking in the snow. She hadn't seemed to be lying then, and it didn't square with Symon's thought. She held her tongue, though.
"You could be lying," Frerthe called in reply.
"I could, though ask yourself, why would I?" Symon shook his head, rubbing at his chin. "My life depends on the trust you all have in my healing. I'll not break that for an odd woman we have known for less than a sennight."
Frerthe scrutinized him, then nodded. "Aye, very well. Say she came from this, what was it?"
"Yi-Ti," Symon repeated.
"From Yi-Ti. They have people with wings there? People who work magic and have strange halls?"
Symon rubbed at his beard furiously as he thought for a long moment, finally nodding, "Aye, there are. While I was at the Citadel, I worked with maester Yandel to compile all the information known of the world. There is a city in distant Yi-Ti whose name translates to 'City of the Winged Men.' I suggest that is where Maia hails from."
The hall fell quiet at that as they digested the information. Ygdis saw thoughtful expressions on most faces.
"Makes sense," Dagmoor muttered, a sentiment echoed by several others.
Hild spoke up, "Even if she comes from far away, I don't like the way she struts around like First Fork is hers and we her guests. And she speaks strange things, and when I ask to know what she means, she talks to me as I would a child."
"Aye," Sigrid said to that, "I've noticed that, too."
"She does do that," Herrick begrudgingly said.
Even Grenwin nodded to the statement after a moment, to Ygdis's surprise.
"Be nice if she helped with the work around here instead o' things that don't need doing," Luta added. "I've not seen her come help with the washing up."
"Nor I," Inella nodded to her, "Seems she spends more time playing with wood than anything helpful."
"That playing," Herrick called back, "Is why we have the tools she's made." He unsheathed his knife and held it up for everyone to see, "It might be wood, but this knife hasn't dulled yet. Same for the axes she's made. Dagmoor, I saw you chopping wood, what do you say?"
"I say they're wondrous," Dagmoor replied loudly, "I thought it was a jape, but no, her gifts are just as she promised."
"We have her making-machine, too," Herrick added, "It can make food if we need and other things if we teach it how."
Thoughtful murmurs filled the hazy air.
Grenwin finally spoke again, "What say we, First Fork? Do we accept her as one o' our own, or will we put her out?"
A quiet discussion broke out between those sitting close enough to speak to each other.
"I think we should keep her," Dagmoor told Ygdis, "She's a terror in battle and been nothing but helpful."
"Aye, a terror," Ygdis agreed, "Strange and different, too, and it might be that she doesn't know us well yet. That takes time we've not had."
Old Luta called over the murmuring, "I'll accept her so long as she's taught our ways. I'll not have her speaking to me like a child."
"I can teach her," Grenwin said, only for Luta to scoff.
"You know little o' our lore, Ice Wife."
Ygdis called out to her, "I will teach her, then! Will you say I know nothing?"
Luta's eyes narrowed at her and she nodded, "Let it be so, then. Her mistakes will be your mistakes."
"Fine," Ygdis shot back.
After a little while more, most fell in favor of accepting Maia among them. Only Frerthe and Hild rejected the notion, but the village had already decided.
"Right!" Grenwin called over the room, "We'll take her as our own, then. Now, the matter o' leaving. As Wyck said earlier, either we all go, or none o' us do. What say we?"
"Will the Others return?" Inella asked her with concern.
"Might be they do," Grenwin stated.
Teagj stood, "Maia's hall sheltered us before, it can shelter us again. Most of us were born here. I won't leave my home."
"Aye," Herrick called in agreement, "I'll not see First Fork empty like so many other villages."
The sentiment was echoed across the room, with only Wyck, Inella, and Misa seeming discontented with it. The three of them spoke amongst themselves for a long moment.
"Fine, we'll stay," Wyck called out, Misa and Inella nodding next to him. "We'll be having this talk again, I reckon, but we'll stay for now."
"Then we're staying here," Grenwin said. "Anyone anything to add?"
Ygdis stood with effort again, seizing the opportunity to make her grievances known. She pointed at Teagj, "Teagj, I want my home back. I want my mother's things. I want her necklace."
Sigrid's eyes widened at that, Ygdis noted, though the woman should have already known this.
Teagj frowned back at her, crossing his arms. "It's the chief's cabin, and you ain't chief."
Fury burned inside Ygdis as she limped towards him with as much menace as she could muster. She knew the words she was about to say couldn't be taken back, but they boiled up anyway. "Yer no chief o' mine, Teagj," she spat at him, and she heard Misa gasp in surprise.
The room fell completely silent.
"Yer challenging me, then?" Teagj stood slowly, meeting Ygdis's eyes levelly. "Your mother was a wise woman when she asked me to come after her. She didn't want you to lead, Ygdis. She wanted to spare you the pain that comes with it."
"I'll show you pain," Ygdis snarled at him, taking one painful step after another. "All the pain I've felt seeing you live in my home, sullying my mother's memory at every turn! Pretending you could be even half what she was! I'll have no more o' it!"
"If you think you can take it, then try," Teagj uttered silkily.
A strong hand caught Ygdis's shoulder and she whipped her head around to see Grenwin frowning at her. "Let go, Gren. I need this!"
The bear of a woman shook her head slowly, "Not while you're wounded. I'll not be the one to burn your body, Yg."
"Best listen to her, girl," Teagj mocked.
Grenwin closed her green eyes for a moment, sighed, released Ygdis's shoulder, and took two long strides toward the man. Her fist struck out with a wet crunch and he fell back on his ass with a cry of pain, holding his nose. Blood was already pouring past his fingers as he stared up at Grenwin. She crouched next to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed.
"You'll give her her mother's necklace. If you don't, you'll be fighting me, not her. Understand, Teagj?"
Teagj snarled back up at her, spitting blood at her. "I don't have it. Gave it to Maia, told her to make a weapon o' it." His voice was thick and nasally as he spoke past the pain.
"You fuck," Ygdis shouted at him, "You'd no right!"
"I have every right to do what I can to see us all safe!" He shouted back, "It was the only piece o' dragonglass we had! Better to put it to use against the Others than wear it as a pretty trinket!"
"You-!"
"Stop." Grenwin interrupted Ygdis, holding a hand in her direction wardingley. "Teagj was wrong to do that, but he did have reason. I'm certain Maia will return it to you, Ygdis. Tell her what it means to you."
"It should be mine," Ygdis said, hating the near-whine it came out as.
"Aye," Grenwin said, shoving Teagj back and standing. "But this is no matter for a Thing."
Ygdis realized everyone was staring at her. Her rage faded, replaced with shame.
"Fine," she said, limping back to stand by Symon and leaning on the wall.
"Anyone else have anything?" Grenwin asked around the room, receiving shakes of the head. "Right. We have bodies to burn. Best we get on that, then."
Gradually, people stood and began to leave. Sigrid gave Ygdis a quiet, "Sorry, Ygdis, I should've recognized it," as she passed, leaving her mystified. Teagj ignored her entirely, looking straight ahead as he left. Misa came over to give her a hug and said in her ear, "Glad we both made it, eh?"
Ygdis returned the embrace, "Aye. Hope we make it through the next just the same."
Misa squeezed her again before following her mother out.
Symon left, saying something about "seeing to the dead." Ygdis paid the crow no mind. She overheard Herrick talking to Dagmoor about taking the loot and putting it in the maker-machine he'd mentioned. She felt she ought to be curious about that, but she just felt hollow inside. Finally, it was just her and Grenwin.
"Come on, Yg. You need to rest and I need to clean my rug." The tall woman offered her a hand and Ygdis took it, then was pulled over as Grenwin helped walk her out into the sun. The wind was blowing over the river, bringing fresh air to them and shaking the heart-tree's leaves.
They made a decent pace back to the Ice Wife's cabin. Ygdis settled herself on the pile of skins stacked at the end of Grenwin's bed, eying Maia's filthy form and scrunching her nose up at the smell of drying gore. Her leg was sore as she stretched it out.
"We ought to clean her up some," Ygdis muttered to Grenwin as the other woman went about collecting the pieces of flesh from the rug.
"Aye, we will, once we deal with the dead," Grenwin told her, grimacing as she lifted a strip of muscle, held between thumb and forefinger. She set it in the small pile held in the crook of her elbow. "This is horrid," she said with a look of disgust, "I know she can heal herself, but to do this? I do not like it, not at all."
"Maybe she had cause?" Ygdis suggested, recalling the empty look in Maia's eyes.
Grenwin sighed, shaking her head. "We won't know 'till she wakes." Gathering the last of the flesh, she met Ygdis's eyes and asked, "Would you to watch over her while I'm helping with the dead?"
Ygdis grinned at her, "'Course, Gren. I'm not going anywhere."
Grenwin nodded to her with a thankful look, "Many thanks, Yg. I'll be back in a while, with supper if I can help it. If she wakes, don't let her leave, yea?"
"Aye," Ygdis replied.
With that, Grenwin left the cabin and closed the door behind her, leaving Ygdis alone with Maia. Idly, she wondered if anyone had bothered to collect the sword she'd dropped. It was only a passing thought, though, and Ygdis found herself reliving the fight in her thoughts.
The moment Grenwin had been hit with that bolt kept coming to mind, bringing back all the shock, horror, and despair Ygdis had felt at the moment. Whatever Maia was, whatever she could do, Ygdis was deeply grateful that she'd saved Grenwin. That was enough for her. She didn't need more from her to know the stranger was on their side. She just hoped that everyone else would come to see it that way.
Maia stood over her, framed by the red-handed canopy of the heart tree, soaked in gore. She held her overlarge sword to the side easily, the metal of it blazing in bloody-black flames that fanned Ygdis's terror. Her pale face was smeared with drying grit, expression flat. The worst to see were her eyes, blue and green irises hollow and empty as they regarded her. Gone was the diminutive woman who'd seemed friendly enough; in her place stood a creature of the deep snows, a horror from the old stories.
I mocked her, mocked that sword. Oh, gods, why did I do that?! She's going to kill me for it!
Ygdis panted heavily, body frozen in fear. The blow she expected never came. Maia only stared at her dully. Slowly, Ygdis recognized that look, a combination of battle-shock and what she'd seen some women wear after being taken. She swallowed her fear, a sliver of hope shining through. Maia could do wondrous things, Grenwin had been hit badly, and Ygdis lifted her arm to point back to where the Ice Wife lay dying.
"Help Gren!"
The words came out a desperate shout, half-command, half-plea.
Maia turned smoothly to face up the street. She searched with her dead eyes for a second before they widened and a wail burst from her lips. She was off and running a moment later, leaving Ygdis shaking and surrounded by dying meat.
Ygdis's eyes stung and she took a moment to rub furiously at them before trying to stand. She ached. The slavers had taken to beating her with boots and cudgels before picking her up, and her right leg clicked painfully when she put weight on it. She saw her spear lying in the snow nearby and tried to limp for it, stumbling back to land in a small pile of guts that had slipped free of a man's body. She retched at the sensation of flesh squishing beneath her weight and between her fingers, her belly emptying itself painfully.
She crawled towards her spear 'till she was in cleaner snow, scrubbing her hands furiously in the cold powder before taking her weapon up. She levered herself up and leaned heavily on it for a second as she took stock of the battle.
First Fork was victorious, she saw. The few slavers trying to run fell with arrows in their backs, those who had given up were being killed out of hand. Casting her gaze around, relief filled her as she saw most everyone up and standing. That relief froze to ice around her heart as her eyes fell on where Grenwin lay against an earthen slope with Maia kneeling next to her.
Ygdis limped forward, using her spear to support herself as she slowly made her way closer. She couldn't look away as Maia pulled a knife and slashed Grenwin's wrist, then her own, and pressed the wounds together. Confusion warred with the fear for her mentor's, no, her sister's safety. Grenwin was as kin to her, the only kin Ygdis had left in the world, and she couldn't lose her too. She felt ashamed she could only admit that now after it seemed too late.
She told herself that Grenwin was strong, that the Ice Wife would be well, but she'd seen the bolt that buried itself in Grenwin's breast. The slaving fuckers had taken one look at the towering warrior and loosed their crossbows. Why did it have to be her? Did they see her as their battle-chief? Ygdis cursed them with every step.
Spite filled her as she saw the chief and his lickspittle standing tall. They should have taken Teagj instead! He deserved it for taking her mother's place! For taking their home from them! For taking everything he'd found within for himself! He wouldn't even give Ygdis her mother's necklace, a beautiful dragonglass arrowhead that she'd worn as long as Ygdis had known! It was hers by right! If the gods were just, he'd suffer for his crimes against her.
The other villagers had begun to crowd around Grenwin and Maia, blocking Ygdis's sight of them. Furiously limping as fast as she could, she pushed her way past Hild and Luta, ignoring the sounds of surprise and concern from the older women, and froze at what she saw.
A pale red light surrounded Grenwin, as though the air itself was suffused with the glow. Her face was alight, too, her skin radiating the strange energy and her lips drawn in agony. Maia was draped across her lap, laying limp with her black hair veiling her features, illuminated just the same. Glimmers sparkled in the air, a thousand falling petals of strange flowers, fading in and out of sight. Terror fought against Ygdis's shock and growing panic as the skin around Grenwin's eye turned ashen and a strip of her auburn locks faded to a dull gray. The pink radiance pulsed as Grenwin gasped and jerked upright, fading entirely in another moment as though nothing had happened.
"Witchery," Hild muttered hollowly behind Ygdis.
Old Luta murmured back with audible fear, "She a wight, now?"
"No!" Ygdis hissed at the slim woman, "Look at her eyes! No blue, see?"
Grenwin blinked several times, looking around at the gathered First Forkers. Her vibrant green eyes met Ygdis's and she grinned, picking up the limp Maia as she made to stand. She stood solidly, showing no sign of her brush with death, studying the crowd.
Maia's sword fell to the snow, the sorcerous flames pooling like water around it.
"We lose anyone?" Grenwin asked them all in a firm tone.
The First Forkers looked around at each other, a small chorus of surprised "No" coming in reply. Wyck started laughing, then Sigrid, and soon they were all cheering as their victory became clear. Ygdis found herself caught between Hild and Luta as they clung together and laughed with relief. All around her, others were doing the same, patting each other, clapping shoulders, and wrapping arms around to hold tightly. Ygdis squeezed her way free with a grunt of pain, stumbling forward.
Grenwin caught her as she fell with one strong arm, the other holding Maia's limp form close. A moment later Ygdis was being squeezed close, Grenwin murmuring thanks to the gods for her safety in her ear.
"I thought that was it," Grenwin muttered lowly to her. "Thought I broke my promise to you. I couldn't move, couldn't keep you safe, Ygdis."
The Ice Wife buried her face in the crook of Ygdis's neck and shuddered; Ygdis felt cool moisture on her skin.
Ygdis's eyes burned as her own tears flowed and she clung back. They stood like that for a long moment before Grenwin pulled away with a deep breath, scrubbing at her face with a fist. Ygdis didn't bother to wipe her tears away.
"Maia did 'em in," she told Grenwin, "She took that mighty sword to the fucks."
Grenwin sighed, "I owe her twice over, then." She turned her face up to the grasping canopy above them, red hands waving as though in a gale, "The gods are feasting. They almost had me, Yg. I tried to get away, to stay, but they didn't want me to. I heard Maia pleading with them and…" She looked back to meet Ygdis's eyes steadily, "She gave them something for my life, I think."
Ygdis's throat constricted and she swallowed thickly. "What're you saying?"
Grenwin shrugged, shaking her head, auburn grey-striped locks spilling across her shoulders. "Dunno. I have to think on it." Then, she turned to the gathered villagers and spoke loudly and clearly, "I'm calling a Thing. We need'ta talk. I'm going to see to Maia first. We can clean this mess up after."
They quieted gradually, Teagj stepping forward to peer at her.
"You, call a meet? What right have you?"
Grenwin took a step toward him, towering over the muscled man and baring her teeth at him. Then, she looked past him to everyone else, meeting their eyes in turn. Wyck was the first to nod, then Inella, Misa, and soon the rest. Even Dagmoor, brown eyes flicking to the back of Teagj's head, nodded and said, "I'll set the braziers."
He walked away, shooting glances back every few steps. Herrick followed him, and then the others started drifting away after them.
"Symon," Grenwin called to the man as he turned to leave, "We might need your medicine."
The black-bearded man nodded. "Very well. After you."
Grenwin nodded to him, then turned to Ygdis, "Coming?"
Ygdis nodded back to her, following Grenwin as she set a steady pace fit for her and Symon to her cabin.
Grenwin pushed the door open with her foot and moved to lay Maia on her bed, then sat heavily on the ground next to it, shoulders slumping. She looked tired, resting her elbows on her knees and tilting her head back against the wall as she watched Ygdis and Symon enter.
Ygdis stepped on something that squished under her boot. Looking down, she lifted it, seeing a strip of bloody flesh lying in the fur of the rug. There were others strewn around it, and the blood congealing there had a strange shimmer, as though something pale had been mixed into it. She shuddered, turning to Grenwin.
"Gren, what's this?" She tapped at the meat with her toe.
Grenwin's gaze fell to look, eyes widening in surprise and revulsion. Grimacing, she said with muted horror, "Maia fell sick this morning. She was playing with her sword 'fore the raid. She must've cut herself badly."
"Sick, you say?" Symon limped over to look, dark eyes glittering with concern. He glanced back to Maia, then the strips of flesh on the ground. "I am not sure why she appears unharmed if this was hers." He poked at the meat with his crutch, turning it over to reveal pale skin stained with blood. His tone was even as he noted, "Looks to be part of her arm."
Grenwin stared at the flesh for a moment before shaking her head. "She can heal herself like nothing I've ever seen. I'll be having words with her on this, don't you worry." She sighed deeply, "We'll burn that with the rest of the bodies later. See to her first, Crow."
Symon grunted, turning to move by the bedside. He pressed his fingers to the side of Maia's throat, leaning over to listen to her breathing. "Her heart is steady and her breathing is clear," he noted, opening one of her eyes to study it. He snapped his fingers in front of it, then puffed a burst of air at it. Whatever reaction he was looking for, Symon seemed to have found it as he stood.
"She is in good health, as far as I can determine, merely exhausted. She should recover, given time to rest."
"Good." The relief was audible in Grenwin's tone.
"What was that light?" Ygdis found herself asking hoarsely, drawing their eyes.
"Dunno," Grenwin replied quietly.
Symon knelt by the Ice Wife, reaching out to poke at the gray skin along the side of her face. She slapped his hand away, glaring at him.
"Don't touch me. I'm well enough."
"As every mighty warrior claims after a battle," Symon mocked as he stood again. "Very well." Turning to Ygdis, he studied the way she leaned on her spear, "And you?"
Ygdis nodded, sitting on the end of the bed and stretching her bad leg out before her. "This leg hurts, keeps clicking when I walk."
He moved over, kneeling by her leg and pressing at it with his fingertips. Ygdis hissed as he pushed at a sore spot by her knee. He glanced at her, "This is a minor wound, it should heal well so long as you avoid walking. No running, either. Understand?"
"I do," Ygdis told him. Gesturing with her spear, "Fine to walk with this?"
Symon frowned at her, "No. You ought to rest."
"After the Thing," Ygdis said firmly, "I can rest then."
"Do as you will, then."
Grenwin took a breath and stood, "Let's leave Maia be. Come, Ygdis. You too, Symon. You're one o' us, much as you pretend not to be." She clapped him on the shoulder, "Many thanks for seeing to us."
"It is what I do," Symon said simply.
He and Ygdis followed Grenwin back outside into the sunlight. They made their way to the hall, where the others were already gathering and speaking their minds loudly.
"We ought to make for Mance's camp!" Wyck's shout drifted out of the open door to the hall, "The Others came once, they'll come again! And there'll be no slavers that far from the eastern sea!"
The three of them made their way to the door, the interior hazy with smoke from the peat burning in braziers mounted in the corners. They cast a warm glow that added to the sunlight spilling through the door. Ygdis saw Teagj and Wyck standing off, the former wearing a bemused expression while Wyck's face was furious, his hands clenched as though to strike. Everyone, save Jorni and Lorni, was present, most sitting around the room on the floor or on whatever came to hand.
"Leave, then," Teagj jabbed a finger at Wyck's shoulder, "Prove yourselves craven."
Wyck's face flushed, eyes narrowing. He was about to throw his fist at Teagj, Ygdis knew, but was interrupted by the hush that fell.
Everyone fell silent as they saw the Grenwin entering, looking at her with expressions of uncertainty and disbelief. There was relief on those faces as well, Ygdis saw, and the fatigue that followed battle. It felt to her that the room was thick with conflict and fear.
Wyck lowered his fist as he glanced at Grenwin. He shook his head, blowing out a breath through the dark hair over his lips. "The three o' us are no cravens," he growled at Teagj, then raised his voice to carry over the room. "We know what leaving will do for the rest o' you. We won't abandon First Fork like the others. We all go, or none o' us do."
A smattering of "Aye" met his words from around the room, most loudly from Inella and Misa. Teagj shrugged and backed off, "Fine enough. We need every pair o' hands. Glad you see sense, Wyck."
Wyck's eye twitched violently, and then he turned to Grenwin, snubbing Teagj.
"What's this about, Gren?
Ygdis's leg weakened a few steps in and she had to sit, coming to rest cross-legged between Old Luta and Dagmoor, both making space for her. She watched as the Ice Wife walked towards the center of the hall without speaking. Teagj and Wyck both backed off, Wyck with deference while Teagj tried to wear airs of grace; Ygdis wondered if he even knew how false he looked when he did that. Green eyes cast about them all as Grenwin slowly turned. Her voice was firm and steady, carrying across the room and silencing the lingering murmurs.
"I was dead. Maia brought me back. Anyone have a problem with that?"
Stunned silence met her words, laying heavy across the hall.
"No," Ygdis called loudly, breaking the spell. Herrick echoed her, and Wyck, and soon the rest joined them.
Teagj declared, "She healed me, too. And Dagmoor."
"And I," Misa added.
"Us, too," Hild and Gudrid spoke together.
Grenwin met each of their eyes in turn, nodding. "I say this now, listen well: She means us no harm. She has shared with me her desire to see us safe and free below the Wall, to share her knowledge with us, to heal us when we are ill or wounded, and to provide us with the means to stand on our own."
Silence lingered for a moment before Inella spoke up in her reedy voice, "She fought with us. We should take her with us when we go."
Wyck and Misa nodded at that, the man speaking a loud "Aye" in support.
"She's a monster," Frerthe said quietly from the edge of the crowd. She met the eyes turned her way without flinching, "You all saw what she did with that cursed blade. Tell me she's not a beast out o' the stories, playing pretend to put us off guard."
Low murmurs of assent rose to that. Herrick stood and spat on the stone floor, glaring at the plump woman, "Aye, we saw her doing the slavers in. Dead is dead, what difference does a flaming sword make? And don't forget who made that stool you're sitting on, Frerthe. Why do that if she's here to hurt us?"
Frerthe glared back at him, "So says her pet."
Herrick clenched his fists, cheeks turning ruddy with anger, hissing back, "I'm nobody's pet! Yer blind if you can't see what she could do for us!"
"Quiet!" Grenwin bellowed, cutting through the argument like a knife. Both of them glanced at her, Frerthe scowling, Herrick crossing his arms and wearing a thunderous expression. Slightly softer, Grenwin's tone still brooked no argument as she told them, "Let others speak. Argue later. Fight it out if you need."
Herrick nodded sharply, glaring at Frerthe as he sat back on a wooden crate.
Sigrid spoke up, voice wavering. "She gave us salt and flour, didn't ask for anything in return, not like the stories. But…" She frowned at Grenwin, "Magic is dangerous. Look what it did to you." Her hand reached up to trail fingers along the side of her face.
"And I'm fine," Grenwin told her evenly. "I'm not dead. If my face is sore, so be it. Better that than dying."
"Is it?" Sigrid asked her quietly, concern clear on her face, "You know what she did to you? Do any o' us?"
"We can ask when she wakes," Grenwin told her, voice firm but kind. "She'll tell us then."
Old Luta spoke up next to Ygdis, her voice carrying clear through the murmuring. "She won't even tell us where she's from! I ask and she refuses to answer!"
Ygdis saw Dagmoor and Teagj nodding to that, along with several others, some wearing thoughtful expressions, others angry.
"It's her right!" Ygdis called out, "We've all got secrets."
"Oh?" Luta peered at her, leaning close and taking a strand of Ygdis's hair in her fingers, "I see no gray here. Secrets are one thing, witchcraft another! Mind your place, girl."
Ygdis bristled at her, knocking her hand away and snarling. "And where were you when my mother died, Luta? Your own kin?"
Luta flinched as though struck, shaking her head as she rose to move across the room. She refused to meet Ygdis's eyes, shame clear across her face.
"She came just before the Others!" Frerthe called out with anger, "She brought them to us!"
Chaos erupted at that as a clamor grew. Grenwin stood unmoved, crossing her arms and expression turning bored as she waited. Ygdis didn't know what she was about, but she trusted the Ice Wife.
"You've no sense!" Herrick shouted at Frerthe, his sentiment echoed by Misa's loud "Quit lyin', Frerthe!"
Hoark, Teagj's boy, spat out, "She's right, the stranger came 'fore the Others!"
Teagj rounded on him, slapping him lightly across the cheek, "Quiet, boy!"
Grenwin waited a moment longer before taking a deep breath and bellowing in a voice that crushed the clamor beneath it.
"Enough!"
The word rang out in the air loudly enough that it stunned the room to silence. Grenwin's tone was iron as she said, "None o' us can deny that Maia came before the Others did. That is true." Frerthe made a sound like she was about to speak and Grenwin whipped her head around to stare her down. "First thing she said was to warn me o' a wight at Han's Ford. She told the same to Teagj. I was there, Frerthe."
"The she-bear speaks true," Teagj spoke up, only to receive a glare from Grenwin.
"My clan has weathered the Others longer than most. I'll share what I know o' them now and put this foolishness to rest." Grenwin surveyed the room as she continued, "They are a strange foe, aye, but they have some sense to them. Not all o' them act alike. Those that came for us, they are the kind that comes in the wake o' thundersnow, chasing storms across the land. When they strike at a village, they take everyone and leave nothing behind. It is for this that I believe that what Maia saw at Han's Ford was of a different kind, a kind that lurks near villages and traveler's shelters. That kind will leave wights in ambush, or as sentries, I dunno which. It is this kind that brings the creeping cold that seeps into our homes and dampens our fires. To tell it clear, Maia did not bring the Others. The storm brought them. Now, I'll hear no more o' this foolishness, Frerthe! If she meant to give us over, why shelter us? What do the Others gain from that? Nothing!"
Ygdis nodded thoughtfully and saw most of the rest doing the same. Even Frerthe, who looked like she'd just swallowed something sour, acknowledged Grenwin's point.
Gudrid spoke into the quiet, "What Frerthe said before," she raised her hands defensively as Grenwin turned her green eyes on her, "About Maia, er, being a monster. Maybe she's not with the Others, aye, but we've all heard the tales o' snow beasts."
Misa stood, facing Gudrid, "Ye, but the stories say they wear the faces of old greybeards or pretend to be woods witches, and Maia isn't either."
"She made us soaps, like a woods witch might," Herrick added thoughtfully.
"Misa's right," Ygdis said in support of her friend, "I talked to Maia and asked if she was a woods witch. She didn't even know what they were, didn't want any titles or anything. That's not at all like the stories."
Ygdis levered herself back to standing, leaning heavily on her spear. She took a breath and put firmness into her voice.
"After she cut down the slavers carrying me off, I thought she might kill me. I thought she was a creature o' the deep snow at that moment. I mocked her when she first arrived and I thought she'd do me in for it." Shaking her head, Ygdis looked over the crowd and met their eyes, "I was wrong. You know what I saw? A woman in pain and battle-shock. I was the one to tell her to help Grenwin. The sound she made when she saw Gren… No creature who meant us harm would wail like that."
She had to sit a moment later, happy to have put voice to that. The reactions ranged from disbelief to agreement, and even Frerthe nodded an acknowledgment to Ygdis.
"Why's she got them wings, then?" Hild asked. "And she looks nothing like us. Maybe not a snow beast, but what is she?"
"She's strange," Sigrid spoke. "Strange is dangerous. We all saw what she did with that sword. How do we know she won't hurt us?"
"Never seen eyes like hers before, either," Dagmoor said darkly. "She's not any kind o' free folk I ever saw."
Symon cleared his throat from where he leaned against the wall near the door, all eyes turning towards him.
"May I speak?"
"Go on," Grenwin granted, "You've as much right as any o' us."
"The crow's no right to speak, Grenwin!" Old Luta shouted, flinching as the Ice Wife turned a sharp look at her.
"Speak, Symon," Grenwin commanded without looking away from the older woman.
"Right, yes. I have seen features like Maia's before. Merchantmen from Yi-Ti sometimes trade at the Planky Town. They have long eyes and broad foreheads like she does; I believe she has traveled a very long way to come here, but she is not a creature of your stories."
Ygdis remembered what Maia had said about waking in the snow. She hadn't seemed to be lying then, and it didn't square with Symon's thought. She held her tongue, though.
"You could be lying," Frerthe called in reply.
"I could, though ask yourself, why would I?" Symon shook his head, rubbing at his chin. "My life depends on the trust you all have in my healing. I'll not break that for an odd woman we have known for less than a sennight."
Frerthe scrutinized him, then nodded. "Aye, very well. Say she came from this, what was it?"
"Yi-Ti," Symon repeated.
"From Yi-Ti. They have people with wings there? People who work magic and have strange halls?"
Symon rubbed at his beard furiously as he thought for a long moment, finally nodding, "Aye, there are. While I was at the Citadel, I worked with maester Yandel to compile all the information known of the world. There is a city in distant Yi-Ti whose name translates to 'City of the Winged Men.' I suggest that is where Maia hails from."
The hall fell quiet at that as they digested the information. Ygdis saw thoughtful expressions on most faces.
"Makes sense," Dagmoor muttered, a sentiment echoed by several others.
Hild spoke up, "Even if she comes from far away, I don't like the way she struts around like First Fork is hers and we her guests. And she speaks strange things, and when I ask to know what she means, she talks to me as I would a child."
"Aye," Sigrid said to that, "I've noticed that, too."
"She does do that," Herrick begrudgingly said.
Even Grenwin nodded to the statement after a moment, to Ygdis's surprise.
"Be nice if she helped with the work around here instead o' things that don't need doing," Luta added. "I've not seen her come help with the washing up."
"Nor I," Inella nodded to her, "Seems she spends more time playing with wood than anything helpful."
"That playing," Herrick called back, "Is why we have the tools she's made." He unsheathed his knife and held it up for everyone to see, "It might be wood, but this knife hasn't dulled yet. Same for the axes she's made. Dagmoor, I saw you chopping wood, what do you say?"
"I say they're wondrous," Dagmoor replied loudly, "I thought it was a jape, but no, her gifts are just as she promised."
"We have her making-machine, too," Herrick added, "It can make food if we need and other things if we teach it how."
Thoughtful murmurs filled the hazy air.
Grenwin finally spoke again, "What say we, First Fork? Do we accept her as one o' our own, or will we put her out?"
A quiet discussion broke out between those sitting close enough to speak to each other.
"I think we should keep her," Dagmoor told Ygdis, "She's a terror in battle and been nothing but helpful."
"Aye, a terror," Ygdis agreed, "Strange and different, too, and it might be that she doesn't know us well yet. That takes time we've not had."
Old Luta called over the murmuring, "I'll accept her so long as she's taught our ways. I'll not have her speaking to me like a child."
"I can teach her," Grenwin said, only for Luta to scoff.
"You know little o' our lore, Ice Wife."
Ygdis called out to her, "I will teach her, then! Will you say I know nothing?"
Luta's eyes narrowed at her and she nodded, "Let it be so, then. Her mistakes will be your mistakes."
"Fine," Ygdis shot back.
After a little while more, most fell in favor of accepting Maia among them. Only Frerthe and Hild rejected the notion, but the village had already decided.
"Right!" Grenwin called over the room, "We'll take her as our own, then. Now, the matter o' leaving. As Wyck said earlier, either we all go, or none o' us do. What say we?"
"Will the Others return?" Inella asked her with concern.
"Might be they do," Grenwin stated.
Teagj stood, "Maia's hall sheltered us before, it can shelter us again. Most of us were born here. I won't leave my home."
"Aye," Herrick called in agreement, "I'll not see First Fork empty like so many other villages."
The sentiment was echoed across the room, with only Wyck, Inella, and Misa seeming discontented with it. The three of them spoke amongst themselves for a long moment.
"Fine, we'll stay," Wyck called out, Misa and Inella nodding next to him. "We'll be having this talk again, I reckon, but we'll stay for now."
"Then we're staying here," Grenwin said. "Anyone anything to add?"
Ygdis stood with effort again, seizing the opportunity to make her grievances known. She pointed at Teagj, "Teagj, I want my home back. I want my mother's things. I want her necklace."
Sigrid's eyes widened at that, Ygdis noted, though the woman should have already known this.
Teagj frowned back at her, crossing his arms. "It's the chief's cabin, and you ain't chief."
Fury burned inside Ygdis as she limped towards him with as much menace as she could muster. She knew the words she was about to say couldn't be taken back, but they boiled up anyway. "Yer no chief o' mine, Teagj," she spat at him, and she heard Misa gasp in surprise.
The room fell completely silent.
"Yer challenging me, then?" Teagj stood slowly, meeting Ygdis's eyes levelly. "Your mother was a wise woman when she asked me to come after her. She didn't want you to lead, Ygdis. She wanted to spare you the pain that comes with it."
"I'll show you pain," Ygdis snarled at him, taking one painful step after another. "All the pain I've felt seeing you live in my home, sullying my mother's memory at every turn! Pretending you could be even half what she was! I'll have no more o' it!"
"If you think you can take it, then try," Teagj uttered silkily.
A strong hand caught Ygdis's shoulder and she whipped her head around to see Grenwin frowning at her. "Let go, Gren. I need this!"
The bear of a woman shook her head slowly, "Not while you're wounded. I'll not be the one to burn your body, Yg."
"Best listen to her, girl," Teagj mocked.
Grenwin closed her green eyes for a moment, sighed, released Ygdis's shoulder, and took two long strides toward the man. Her fist struck out with a wet crunch and he fell back on his ass with a cry of pain, holding his nose. Blood was already pouring past his fingers as he stared up at Grenwin. She crouched next to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed.
"You'll give her her mother's necklace. If you don't, you'll be fighting me, not her. Understand, Teagj?"
Teagj snarled back up at her, spitting blood at her. "I don't have it. Gave it to Maia, told her to make a weapon o' it." His voice was thick and nasally as he spoke past the pain.
"You fuck," Ygdis shouted at him, "You'd no right!"
"I have every right to do what I can to see us all safe!" He shouted back, "It was the only piece o' dragonglass we had! Better to put it to use against the Others than wear it as a pretty trinket!"
"You-!"
"Stop." Grenwin interrupted Ygdis, holding a hand in her direction wardingley. "Teagj was wrong to do that, but he did have reason. I'm certain Maia will return it to you, Ygdis. Tell her what it means to you."
"It should be mine," Ygdis said, hating the near-whine it came out as.
"Aye," Grenwin said, shoving Teagj back and standing. "But this is no matter for a Thing."
Ygdis realized everyone was staring at her. Her rage faded, replaced with shame.
"Fine," she said, limping back to stand by Symon and leaning on the wall.
"Anyone else have anything?" Grenwin asked around the room, receiving shakes of the head. "Right. We have bodies to burn. Best we get on that, then."
Gradually, people stood and began to leave. Sigrid gave Ygdis a quiet, "Sorry, Ygdis, I should've recognized it," as she passed, leaving her mystified. Teagj ignored her entirely, looking straight ahead as he left. Misa came over to give her a hug and said in her ear, "Glad we both made it, eh?"
Ygdis returned the embrace, "Aye. Hope we make it through the next just the same."
Misa squeezed her again before following her mother out.
Symon left, saying something about "seeing to the dead." Ygdis paid the crow no mind. She overheard Herrick talking to Dagmoor about taking the loot and putting it in the maker-machine he'd mentioned. She felt she ought to be curious about that, but she just felt hollow inside. Finally, it was just her and Grenwin.
"Come on, Yg. You need to rest and I need to clean my rug." The tall woman offered her a hand and Ygdis took it, then was pulled over as Grenwin helped walk her out into the sun. The wind was blowing over the river, bringing fresh air to them and shaking the heart-tree's leaves.
They made a decent pace back to the Ice Wife's cabin. Ygdis settled herself on the pile of skins stacked at the end of Grenwin's bed, eying Maia's filthy form and scrunching her nose up at the smell of drying gore. Her leg was sore as she stretched it out.
"We ought to clean her up some," Ygdis muttered to Grenwin as the other woman went about collecting the pieces of flesh from the rug.
"Aye, we will, once we deal with the dead," Grenwin told her, grimacing as she lifted a strip of muscle, held between thumb and forefinger. She set it in the small pile held in the crook of her elbow. "This is horrid," she said with a look of disgust, "I know she can heal herself, but to do this? I do not like it, not at all."
"Maybe she had cause?" Ygdis suggested, recalling the empty look in Maia's eyes.
Grenwin sighed, shaking her head. "We won't know 'till she wakes." Gathering the last of the flesh, she met Ygdis's eyes and asked, "Would you to watch over her while I'm helping with the dead?"
Ygdis grinned at her, "'Course, Gren. I'm not going anywhere."
Grenwin nodded to her with a thankful look, "Many thanks, Yg. I'll be back in a while, with supper if I can help it. If she wakes, don't let her leave, yea?"
"Aye," Ygdis replied.
With that, Grenwin left the cabin and closed the door behind her, leaving Ygdis alone with Maia. Idly, she wondered if anyone had bothered to collect the sword she'd dropped. It was only a passing thought, though, and Ygdis found herself reliving the fight in her thoughts.
The moment Grenwin had been hit with that bolt kept coming to mind, bringing back all the shock, horror, and despair Ygdis had felt at the moment. Whatever Maia was, whatever she could do, Ygdis was deeply grateful that she'd saved Grenwin. That was enough for her. She didn't need more from her to know the stranger was on their side. She just hoped that everyone else would come to see it that way.
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Author's Note: Ygdis I
This was pretty difficult to write, but I'm mostly happy with the result. In the first iteration, I didn't spend much time on the people of First Fork and how they might react to things. I'm glad to have the chance to show this kind of internal conflict. I tried to strike a balance between portraying them as people who all respect and value each other as established members of the community and their reactions to recent events. I hope this is a good chapter to start the second arc on and that it was pleasant to read.
Notes:
There are several references in this chapter to stories of creatures other than the Others that lurk in the lands beyond the Wall. Some of these are probably just tall tales, but others might have some truth to them.
First Fork's heart tree is much larger here than its prior iteration. The canopy stretches over most of the village, itself enlarged in part to show the extensive history of the settlement.
Ygdis is empathetic enough to see past her initial reaction to Maia's fearsome appearance and recognize that the newcomer is suffering. She recalls the mocking she did at Maia's expense back when they first met and regrets it.
She's very quick to focus her anger at the situation towards Teagj, who she feels wronged her deeply in the past. Whether or not he deserves it doesn't matter too much to her. The dragonglass Teagj 'found' comes back with more context, having belonged to Ygdis's mother in the past.
Grenwin's revival hearkens back to and takes visual inspiration from Sekiro. Here, the process is facilitated by Maia's unusual physiology and some esoteric factors that I don't want to spoil.
At some point in the past, Grenwin promised Ygdis that she'd protect her. This is one of the reasons why they're so close.
Grenwin mentions the gods feasting. Her people have a slightly different belief as to what happens to the souls of the dead. Many other wildling cultures believe the weirwoods draw in the dead to take them to be with their ancestors; Grenwin's culture believes the gods consume the souls instead.
Teagj's authority isn't nearly as absolute as he thinks it is.
Ygdis, Grenwin, and Symon stumble on the result of Maia's attempts to get away from the sword in the previous chapter. It's rather grisly and not something any of them will let slide.
Wyck and Inella are together, while Misa is her daughter by a man who died shortly after she was born. He still cares for Misa as his own, though, and values her thoughts and perspectives. His motivation in leaving is to see to their safety, and they return the sentiment.
Grenwin, raised the daughter of a powerful clan mother and contender for Queen-Beyond-the-Wall, is able to steer the conversation in the right direction. Though she stays out of most of it, letting the rest voice their thoughts and bicker, she's in favor of keeping Maia throughout.
Old Luta had something to do with Ygdis's mother's death and staunchly refuses to speak of it. Ygdis partially blames her and no longer considers her any kind of kin.
Teagj is also in favor of keeping Maia with them, though he's canny enough to know that coming right out and saying it might put others against the idea, simply because it came from him.
Symon's proposition that Maia comes from the city of the winged men is close, but he's wrong. He's also wrong as to how she came to the lands beyond the Wall. However, it's reasonable enough for the others to take at face value as explanation. Maester Yandel is the in-universe author of the World of Ice and Fire, recently completed in 292 AC, and Symon was at the Citadel during the time he worked on it.
Herrick is exceptionally pleased to have access to the 'maker-machine.' He strikes me as the curious and open-minded type.
Most of the villagers were born in First Fork and have lived their whole lives there. For some, leaving is a difficult proposition. For others, it's impossible. Things aren't helped by the way people who drift into First Fork tend to stay there.
Ygdis seizes an opportunity during the Thing to challenge Teagj. She's hotheaded and often acts before thinking, but she knew what she was doing. She doesn't want to be chieftess, she just wants her childhood home and her mother's things back. If Teagj suffers in the course of that, well, that's just a bonus.
Notes:
There are several references in this chapter to stories of creatures other than the Others that lurk in the lands beyond the Wall. Some of these are probably just tall tales, but others might have some truth to them.
First Fork's heart tree is much larger here than its prior iteration. The canopy stretches over most of the village, itself enlarged in part to show the extensive history of the settlement.
Ygdis is empathetic enough to see past her initial reaction to Maia's fearsome appearance and recognize that the newcomer is suffering. She recalls the mocking she did at Maia's expense back when they first met and regrets it.
She's very quick to focus her anger at the situation towards Teagj, who she feels wronged her deeply in the past. Whether or not he deserves it doesn't matter too much to her. The dragonglass Teagj 'found' comes back with more context, having belonged to Ygdis's mother in the past.
Grenwin's revival hearkens back to and takes visual inspiration from Sekiro. Here, the process is facilitated by Maia's unusual physiology and some esoteric factors that I don't want to spoil.
At some point in the past, Grenwin promised Ygdis that she'd protect her. This is one of the reasons why they're so close.
Grenwin mentions the gods feasting. Her people have a slightly different belief as to what happens to the souls of the dead. Many other wildling cultures believe the weirwoods draw in the dead to take them to be with their ancestors; Grenwin's culture believes the gods consume the souls instead.
Teagj's authority isn't nearly as absolute as he thinks it is.
Ygdis, Grenwin, and Symon stumble on the result of Maia's attempts to get away from the sword in the previous chapter. It's rather grisly and not something any of them will let slide.
Wyck and Inella are together, while Misa is her daughter by a man who died shortly after she was born. He still cares for Misa as his own, though, and values her thoughts and perspectives. His motivation in leaving is to see to their safety, and they return the sentiment.
Grenwin, raised the daughter of a powerful clan mother and contender for Queen-Beyond-the-Wall, is able to steer the conversation in the right direction. Though she stays out of most of it, letting the rest voice their thoughts and bicker, she's in favor of keeping Maia throughout.
Old Luta had something to do with Ygdis's mother's death and staunchly refuses to speak of it. Ygdis partially blames her and no longer considers her any kind of kin.
Teagj is also in favor of keeping Maia with them, though he's canny enough to know that coming right out and saying it might put others against the idea, simply because it came from him.
Symon's proposition that Maia comes from the city of the winged men is close, but he's wrong. He's also wrong as to how she came to the lands beyond the Wall. However, it's reasonable enough for the others to take at face value as explanation. Maester Yandel is the in-universe author of the World of Ice and Fire, recently completed in 292 AC, and Symon was at the Citadel during the time he worked on it.
Herrick is exceptionally pleased to have access to the 'maker-machine.' He strikes me as the curious and open-minded type.
Most of the villagers were born in First Fork and have lived their whole lives there. For some, leaving is a difficult proposition. For others, it's impossible. Things aren't helped by the way people who drift into First Fork tend to stay there.
Ygdis seizes an opportunity during the Thing to challenge Teagj. She's hotheaded and often acts before thinking, but she knew what she was doing. She doesn't want to be chieftess, she just wants her childhood home and her mother's things back. If Teagj suffers in the course of that, well, that's just a bonus.
Maia IX: A Painful Morning
I drifted between restive sleep and waking awareness.
Some part of me recognized I was being carried and set down on a soft surface as I slipped into dreams of men and women surrounding me, their feature fuzzed and blurry, furious voices hurling blame and accusations at me. Then, brown eyes set in a split face stared into my soul, judging me, then they became vibrant green and Grenwin's disappointed features clearly found me wanting. She crumbled to dust even as I reached out to try and hold her together, leaving me handfuls of ash that stained my skin even as they blew away.
The nightmare faded as a galaxy of lights swung around me. They sang a cacophonous chorus, each chiming with a unique melody. Alone, they might have been pleasant; all together, they were overwhelming, discordant, each fighting to be heard over the rest. I sat in the center of a small cluster, a meager offering, though these few sung in harmony with each other. A light came free and fell towards me, bombarding me with visions of working with hide and sinew, weaving fibers into fabrics, producing clothing that protected indistinct people from harm; when the visions ended, the new light had harmonized with the rest, adding to my growing chorus.
Wakefulness tugged at me as I felt my body being shifted about, soft voices speaking meaningless words as my clothes were removed and my skin wiped down. A discomfort I hadn't been aware of began to ease as grime and grit were removed, leaving the feeling of cleanliness behind. It was over soon and a blanket was draped over me, and I slipped back to sleep.
Sometime later, I began to wake. The sound of snoring and birdsong drifted into my ears, I smelled the light scents of woodsmoke and aged hide, and I felt the weight of my body settled into the bedding below and around me. There was a hint of burning pork on the air. My mouth was dry and I worked moisture back into it as I turned over to rest on my side. Cracking my eyes open, I saw the far wall of Grenwin's home, darkness beyond the window.
The darkness shifted and I blinked, clearing my vision. There was a shape out there, something a little lighter than the black around it, visible as it moved. The world outside brightened with a silver glow and I saw it clearly.
A gray raven stood on the windowsill, peering at me. Silently, it hopped inside, wings flaring for a second as it came to land before my face. It drooped its head low, one dark eye gazing into my own. It clacked its beak once and shook, fluffing its feathers out, then lightly pecked my forehead before taking to the air and flying out the window.
The feeling of its beak against my skin felt strange. The suddenness of it had me lifting a hand to rub at the spot as my mind cleared of the fog clogging it. I was well and truly awake now, though fatigue still weighed my body down. I made it halfway through a sigh before my breath caught and I coughed. My nose felt stuffy and my eyes watered as I rubbed the sleep clear of them. Sitting up, I felt like I'd come down with a flu, body aching deeply. At least my thoughts were coming easily and felt properly ordered. I sneezed into the crook of my elbow, then again.
Checking myself over with my nanites, I couldn't find anything wrong that they could fix. I felt awful despite them.
"Maia?" Grenwin's voice asked from the shadows beyond the end of the bed. Then, I heard Ygdis's quiet muttering, the young woman saying something about wanting more sleep. They both must be in here, I realized.
"I'm here," I replied.
I heard the sounds of movement and a shadowed shape rose to move closer. In the soft light from outside, I saw Grenwin come to crouch next to me.
Her voice was intent despite the softness in her tone as she asked, "Are you well?"
"I think so. I feel like myself again." I coughed into my elbow, "Sick, but myself." Casting about my hazy memories of the day prior, I found I couldn't focus on specifics, though I was certain it had been awful. "What happened yesterday? I think I remember climbing the heart tree, but everything else might as well be fog."
"You don't remember." Her response came as a disbelieving statement.
I shook my head, not knowing if she could make it out in the dim light. Shifting to sit on the edge of the bed facing her, I rested my elbows on my thighs and leaned on them.
"I think it was terrible, but not much more."
Strong hands fell on my shoulders, holding tightly. I flinched away even as I froze, the reaction coming faster than I could stop. I'm safe, I had to tell myself, Grenwin wouldn't hurt me. I trust her. My eyes began to adjust to the light and I gasped as I made out the strange scarring on the side of her face.
"Maia," Grenwin said lowly, "Do you know what you did to me?"
My breath caught again, and not from a cough. Fear coiled in my chest, horror and despair, and an awful numbness roiled alongside it. My voice came out a whisper as tears blurred my vision. Slowly, I pieced together the fragmented memories.
"You… You were dying, Grenwin. I felt you falling apart and I couldn't stop it from happening. I… I didn't want you to go." My left hand clenched and relaxed reflexively, seeking comfort. "I had to give you my blood to make up for what you'd lost. It… I don't know what it did to you, but it saved you, let me bring you back. I needed you to stay so badly. I think, I think I was willing to…" I swallowed thickly as my throat constricted and my chest tightened, "I didn't want to go, but if it meant you could live, I would have paid any price."
Her hands squeezed my shoulders near to pain, hard enough I thought my collarbones might snap under her thumbs, and then she pulled me forward into her lap and wrapped her arms around me. Her breath was hot against my ear as she held me tightly. I felt her shuddering, and then she spoke, quiet and firm.
"I am not worth your life. I should have died long ago, given myself to the snow for the shame I brought to my family and my clan. I am a coward, Maia, and you…" Grenwin made a frustrated noise and shook, "I told you to stay. What were you thinking, joining the fight as you were?"
She was wrong. Grenwin was a good and kind woman who'd taken me under her wing despite everything wrong with me, despite everything I could do. It felt like she saw me for me, not as a label or a threat or a monster or tool to sacrifice. She was a better person than I and deserved to live a long and happy life, not to die nearly out of hand.
"Wrong," I murmured, voice thick with sadness, "You're wrong, Grenwin. A coward wouldn't have helped me as you have. You're a wonderful person for taking in a broken wretch like me. You've given me a chance to heal myself… To pick up the pieces and keep going."
I felt her jaw clenching against the side of my face as she shook again.
Dimly, I recalled hearing her bellowing cry, calling First Fork to her. With it came the memory of the writhing fire and the cold voice in my mind and the violation of my flesh. A keening noise rose from my throat. For a horrible moment, I thought it was still there, still creeping through my veins and my bones. Frantic, I checked with my nanites, searching everywhere for any trace of it, but there was nothing there. A sob ripped its way out of me.
"I heard you calling for everyone, and shouting and screaming, and I needed to help! The sword- It- It hurt me, took everything, but it helped me help everyone." My body was trembling violently, shivers that stole my breath and had me almost gasping for air. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt anyone!"
"The sword," Grenwin hissed out. "No, I am sorry. I should have taken it from you before leaving. We found the parts you left behind and I see now that my mistake led to this."
"No!" I hissed back, "If you had, I wouldn't have been able to help! I wouldn't have thought to… It gave me the idea to give you my blood, told me to do it. Without it, you would be dead." Frustration bubbled away inside me, "It hurt me badly, violated me, but you're still here. I can…" A shudder ran through me again, "I can accept that. This pain is worth your life."
In the quiet that followed, pressed against Grenwin as I was, I could hear her heart beating steadily under my ear. It was a soothing sound and for a few moments, I let the foggy memories of the day before swirl in my thoughts.
Grenwin took in a deep breath before sighing quietly. I felt her hand shift to run her fingers through my hair in long, soft strokes.
I'd killed. Altered state of mind or not, in shock or not, I'd taken lives, so many lives. The fact was cold as ice, settling in a hollow space deep within me where something bright had once shown, now shriveled and dead. Before, I'd thought killing was beyond me, a line I wouldn't cross. I thought I should feel something terrible, but there was just frozen apathy. I couldn't bring myself to care.
That emptiness scared me, wrapping around my heart like a crawling, burrowing flame. I had to check with the nanites, just to be sure, but no, there was nothing there; it was only in my head, like so much else seemed to be.
I'm a monster.
The thought echoed within me, bouncing about the emptiness and growing in intensity. I should care that I killed, I knew it, but there was nothing there. Grenwin's warmth, the feel of her arms around me, and the stroking of her fingers through my hair anchored me and stopped me from entering a self-destructive spiral. I hated that I could feel it waiting to take me, held at bay by the kindness of this woman I'd known for less than a week.
Ygdis groaned loudly nearby. "Can't the two o' you do this after the sun rises?"
Grenwin chuckled, a rumble that started deep in her chest and traveled upward.
"Sun is rising, Yg." She hummed for a moment, then spoke in my ear. "Maia, would you heal her? She took a few wounds in the fighting yesterday."
"Oh, yea, would you?" Ygdis said with excitement, her voice moving closer.
Shouldn't they be afraid of me, after what they'd seen me do?
My voice trembled as I spoke. "You aren't… Why would you want that, after what happened?"
Another hand came to rest on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. Ygdis spoke, "My leg hurts, is that reason enough for you? You took care of the others during the fighting, remember?"
I could, now. Teagj and Dagmoor had been dying from their wounds, but it hadn't been as bad as Grenwin's injury. Misa, too, she'd had a concussion, and Gudrid and Hild both had broken bones I'd knitted back together. Even amid everything, I'd still stopped to help them. Knowing that about myself helped warm the emptiness in my breast a little. A little lantern flame in the midst of a snowstorm as it was, it was better than having nothing at all.
"Alright," I said, "Just keep your hand there for a second while I fix you up."
"My thanks, Maia," Ygdis said eagerly.
The nanites passed through my skin and hers, flooding her body in moments. Her injuries weren't bad and I cleared them up before withdrawing the tiny machines.
"You're good now," I told her just before my breath caught in my lungs and a cough tore itself out of my chest.
Her hand withdrew and I heard her moving about nearby. "Aha! That is wondrous!" She crowed.
Grenwin hummed lightly for a moment, squeezing me once more before pushing me away a little. "Was that your first fight, Maia?"
I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.
"You did well, better than I had expected. I had hoped to prepare you more before bringing you to battle." Her tone was soft but firm, "As it is… You have my thanks for giving me your blood. I hope the next is not so dire."
"I still don't know what it did to you," I sniffled, "It changed you, somehow."
"Gave her a nice scar, it did," Ygdis said lightly from by the window, where she peered outside at the brightening sky.
Grenwin sighed and shook her head, "It'll serve a reminder, I reckon."
Reaching up, I lightly touched her face around the ashen mark. She stilled under my fingers and I took that as permission to trace them along the discolored skin. It felt rough and dry, not quite the skin of an aged woman but seeming close. Her eyes tightened and she set her jaw as I examined the oddity.
What had I done to her?
"Does it hurt?" My voice came out weak, near a whisper.
"No," Grenwin said after a moment, "'Twas tender before. Now, it feels like nothing."
"It's numb?"
Pursing her lips, Grenwin nodded. "Aye."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged, brushing it off. "We had a Thing about you. Most everyone wants you to join us."
I wasn't sure how to take that. I thought, after what Sigrid and Teagj had said, that it would be alright to stay. That had been before the battle, though.
"A thing?"
"A village meet," Ygdis said, coming over to crouch next to us. "Ah, Teagj gave you dragonglass, aye?"
Turning my head to meet her blue eyes, I nodded. "It's in one of my belt pouches."
"It belonged to my mother," Her words tumbled out in a rush, "She wore it as a necklace. Teagj took it when she joined the gods."
Remembering how I'd almost destroyed it with the recycler, my gut roiled. "Take it, then, it's yours. Should be yours. He wanted it to be a weapon, said he'd found it. I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
Ygdis's mouth widened and her cheeks pulled up in a beaming grin. She leaped to her feet and I watched as she moved over to where my belt hung and began digging through the pouches. The odds and ends I'd been given spilled to the dirt in a pile near the wall as she searched. She gave a victorious cry, clutching something to her breast and whirling to face us with tears in her eyes. A moment later, she had her arms wrapped around us in a wide hug, "You have my thanks, Maia!"
"Aye, and mine," Grenwin added. "I'd not known that Teagj had done what he did to you, Ygdis. You ought to have told me."
"It was my problem to solve," Ygdis stated simply.
I coughed again, "You don't need to thank me, it belonged to you anyway."
"Is this a catching sickness?" Ygdis asked with a little concern, "Gren said it wasn't."
"She's right," I confirmed, "It's only something that's affecting me. If it was catching, Grenwin ought to be feeling it too with how much of my blood she's got in her now."
Grenwin rumbled, "'M feeling fine."
Ygdis released us, leaning back to rest on her heels. "Hm. Well, at the Thing, we had a long talk over you, and you might want to see about making nice with Frerthe and Luta. Hild, too. Oh, and I'm to teach you our ways."
"I can talk to them," I nodded to her, "And I'd like to learn."
"Good!" Ygdis clapped her hands and rubbed them together, "When yer well again, I will show you the work that needs doing around First Fork."
"Okay. I'd be happy to help out!" A thought niggled at me, the memory of the dream of a light I'd picked up. Parsing it, I thought it meant I'd gained the ability to craft enhanced clothing and armor. I'd need to put it to use to test the effects, but at least I could tailor myself new clothes. I declared, "Ah, I can make and mend clothes, too! That'd be helpful, right?"
Ygdis blinked at me, a bemused smirk pulling at her lips. Grenwin chuckled, as though I'd said something funny.
"I think it might be," Ygdis said slowly, "I meant you'd be helping with the washing and mucking out the latrines."
That didn't sound so bad to me, what with the abilities granted by my lights and all. With how fast I could work, it likely wouldn't take too long anyway. "Oh, well, that's fine too. I don't mind getting my hands dirty."
"Good," Grenwin told me, then hesitated, green eyes flicking away from me. "You said the sword told you to give me your blood?"
A shudder ran down my spine and my hands clenched to fists. My knuckles creaked and then I was there again, kneeling on the pelt with fire violating me and a cold voice speaking into my thoughts.
"Maia?"
Grenwin's concerned question felt very distant as my hand clenched around the white-hot hilt, fingers unable to open, unable to separate myself from the metal. At the same time, flaming fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing.
"What's wrong with her?" Ygdis asked from far away.
A hard jolt brought me out of the past, Grenwin's hands gripping my shoulders and shaking me once more. Her eyes were wide and worried as they flicked about my face, "Maia, what happened? Another light?"
"No," I rasped, feeling as though iron bands had wrapped around my chest, tightening implacably closed. I fought for breath against the sensation. "No, not that. Just… Bad memories."
Grenwin exchanged a glance with Ygdis, asking her "Battle-shock?"
Ygdis shrugged, "Looked like it."
Another sigh escaped Grenwin's lips as she shook her head. Meeting my eyes again, she asked once more, "The sword spoke to you?"
I was able to stay present as the whirlwind of memories came back up. With great effort, I forced myself to nod.
"We ought to go get it," Ygdis suggested.
"Mmm," Grenwin hummed noncommittally, "We left it where it lay. None o' us wanted to touch it."
"It's outside?" I asked, voice hollow as I struggled to stay in the here and now.
"Aye, resting in a puddle o' that magic fire." Grenwin nodded to me.
Sudden anger flared in my chest, hot and bright. "Leave it," I snarled, "Let it sit and think about what it did to me!"
Grenwin's brows rose and her eyes widened.
"Swords don't think," Ygdis's concerned voice matched the cast of her face, "You, ah, are you sure that you are well?"
My vision was disfiguring, blurring and warping at the edges. I felt sweat prickling my brow, and the air was too hot and too thick to breathe. My hands trembled against Grenwin's sides.
"This one does! And I'm fine!" I snapped at Ygdis. She flinched away, blinking in shock and confusion.
"Later, then," Grenwin muttered, brows furrowed over concerned eyes. "Maybe we ought to speak of other things?"
I shook my head, feeling suddenly confined. My heart was hammering painfully, hard enough I thought it might burst free from my chest, my feet tingled with pins and needles, and my fists clenched hard enough that my nanites helpfully informed me my nails were digging bloody furrows into my palms.
Wriggling free of her arms, I rose to my feet. "No, I think I'm done talking for now. I- I need to get to work. I don't want to waste any more time."
"What are you talking about?" Ygdis asked, rallying herself.
Stepping quickly to where my parka and trousers hung over the fire, I pulled them on, ignoring the slight dampness to them. I grabbed my belt, leaving the pile of trinkets on the ground, tying it around my waist.
"I need to test some things," I told them, voice tight as I struggled to stay in control of myself. I was terrified that I would lash out at them, that I'd harm them somehow. I needed distance. "Make some clothes, that kind of thing. Come with me or don't, it's up to you." Pulling my boots on, I made for the door and left without waiting for an answer.
The air was crisp and fresh this morning, the brightening skies beyond the heart tree's canopy clear of clouds and studded with stars. I had to fight a spell of dizziness after a few steps, leaning heavily against Grenwin's house and puffing steaming breaths for a long moment until it passed. Making my way to the hall, I saw I was one of the few up and about at this hour. Passing Wyck on the path, we exchanged greetings.
"Good fight, that," he told me with appreciation as we parted.
I didn't have anything to say to that, so I nodded to him and continued on. The portal was still open next to the hall doors and I stepped through quickly, entering my little workshop, lit with warm sunlight and crowded with wooden boxes and racks of tools.
My worktable was messy. I stared at the clutter for a long moment before a howl tore from me and I swept my arms across the surface violently, sending tools clattering against crates and across the floor. Staring at the new mess I'd just made, my body shuddered and my eyes watered. I was too hot one moment, freezing the next. I pressed my palms flat against the surface and leaned against it, closing my eyes and breathing heavily.
Calm. I'm okay. Focus on my breathing. In, count to five, hold it, count to seven, out, count to three. Again. I'm alright. Breathe again.
Gradually, the iron bands around my chest loosened and fell away. Tears splashed against wood, falling freely from my cheeks. My heart slowed from its hammering, leaving my chest aching.
What is wrong with me?
Was this the start of a panic attack? I'd not suffered those before, but I didn't think I'd felt this much anxiety, or had black bones, or had wings, either. I had to face that I wasn't who I'd thought I was.
A mirthless chuckle sounded and it took a moment to realize that empty laugh was coming from my throat. What a terrible way to start the day.
I needed to focus.
First things first, I wanted to test this new light. I struggled for a moment, trying to decide what to start with, eventually coming to realize I should go over the resources I had available first. Moving over to the fabricator bay, I poked at the terminal, surprised to see the catalog of patterns had grown significantly.
Thankfully, the system categorized them for me, making it much easier to break down what could be reproduced. I noted a significant amount of coinage, roundels of silver and copper and gold with a wide variety of weights and metal content. There were a myriad of trinkets as well, rings of bone and brass, twisted iron shapes I had no context for, and more besides. There was an entire category dedicated to textile samples, ranging from leather to flax and hemp linens to oiled cloths to cotton and even some silks. There were weapons as well, cudgels and crossbows and catchpoles.
Belatedly, I realized that all of this must have come from the slavers. In a way, I was pleased that they'd given me access to such a variety of things to work with. That felt a guilty thought and shame curdled my belly. I'd put this to use to help First Fork. At least something good could come from this mess.
First, though, I was tired of this parka and wanted something that fit me better. Going over the list of materials, a design came together in my head. It would take time to dismantle some of the samples for thread, and then I recalled the computer-aided design program I'd found.
Switching over to that, I spent some time familiarizing myself with the interface. It was deceptively easy to use, though I suspected a portion of that ease came from the light granting my ecotech. The program had several operating modes, including one specifically for handling textiles, and I put that to use in designing a bolt of cotton fabric, adjusting the weave and composition of the fibers with the inbuilt tools.
Saving the design as a new pattern, I had the fabricator print it, and a moment later I pulled the roll of white cotton cloth out of the output hatch. Taking a moment to appreciate what I'd just done, I hugged it close as I thought of all the things I could do with this wonderful machine.
Electronics were well within reach, I realized with awe. I needed to take the time to transcribe the information stored in my lights to patterns, but once done, I could print them as needed. This miraculous device unshackled me from so many limitations that the thought made my head spin. I wasn't reliant on infrastructure or industry, requiring only the raw resources instead.
Through more experimentation, I put together a variety of threads in a multitude of weights. Bobbins of cotton, linen, wools, silks, and spools of several metals were soon saved as patterns. Bolts of fabric followed, coming quicker as I figured out my workflow. The system was intuitive enough that I felt well-versed in its use by the time I'd put together the variety I wanted. I could add to the pattern database later as more ideas came; for now, I felt this was a good start.
Finishing up, I checked the design in my head and printed the materials I needed, carrying them over to the workshop. With all of my lights, it wouldn't take more than an hour to assemble the garment. Excitement buzzed along my limbs as I began to work.
Halfway through, my hands stilled as my attention was pulled to my realm of lights. A constellation was approaching and I felt my grasping limb coiled and ready. Trying not to interfere, I relaxed and let it do its thing. It lashed out and expended a portion of itself as it knocked a light free, then it sought several others before withdrawing once more.
There were six in total, each quite small save for a duo of slightly larger lights. As they joined the others around me, I struggled to hold the information they bombarded me with. Most dealt with singing and dancing, though one granted me the training to pilot some kind of aircraft. Vaguely, I felt disappointed as I returned to myself.
I'd not been a very musical person, I didn't think, but I could appreciate it when others sang well. Now, these lights let me sing and dance with the best of them if I could work myself up to show that to others. There were more subtle skills included, an ability to come up with lyrics and tunes on the spot, and another that gave me the grace necessary to dance well. I understood music at a fundamental level now and could play most common instruments relatively well.
The duo of larger lights granted me a means to project emotion with my songs, to better recognize and understand the feelings of others around me, and to inspire listeners and invoke the emotions I wanted them to feel. It wasn't anything that could control someone or make them act in a way they normally wouldn't, but it was still quite powerful.
It was up to me to find a use for this. None of these lights came with instructions or guides, but these felt even less useful to me than the others I'd gathered so far. Maybe I'd start singing at the evening meals. These folks appreciated music deeply enough that I might be entertaining.
"Maia?" Misa's soft question came from behind me and I whirled in surprise. She sat on one of the wooden crates, one leg crossed over the other and leaning forward to peer at me behind brown curls of hair.
Pressing a hand to my chest, I felt my heart beating rapidly. I had no idea how long she'd been there without my realizing and I felt my throat tighten.
"Please, don't sneak up on me like that!"
She blinked her warm brown eyes at me, "I said hello when I came in. You didn't hear me?"
"I was distracted," I said quickly, "Did you need something?"
"To thank you," Misa said, booted foot bobbing in the air with nervous energy. "For helping us. The others say there would have been more death if you hadn't."
Nodding slowly, I looked away, the smell of copper and offal clinging to my nose. "Ah, you're welcome. Ygdis and Grenwin said there'd been a thing yesterday?"
She nodded back, "Aye. Thought I would come and be the first to come and welcome you as one o' us, but, ah, you seem busy." She lifted a hand and gestured at the half-complete dress on the worktable.
"Well, thank you," I told her, putting as much warmth into my tone as I could muster. "Sorry for snapping at you a moment ago. I was very distracted."
"'S fine," she shrugged the apology off, "What is that, anyway?"
"It's going to be a dress, soon. I think I can make clothes that are enhanced like my wooden tools are. They ought to be perfectly warm no matter how cold it gets and tough enough to be like armor."
"Oh," interest brightened her tone, "Can I watch?"
"Sure. It won't take much longer 'till I'm done with this." I tried giving her a smile before turning back to the workbench and scowling at the fabric there. I'd hoped to be left alone for a bit. Well, I supposed I had been, and I'd used it up while avoiding my problems. Getting back to work, I tried to lose myself in the effort of tailoring. Absently, I started humming a tune as I labored.
Misa was blessedly quiet and I almost forgot the young woman was present as the dress came together. It was high-necked, with long sleeves and narrow divided skirts that ought to end just above my ankles, maintaining my range of movement. Though it was plain undyed cotton, the fabric I'd put together was light and strong, with embroidered copper vines and silver leaves around the waist, up the front, and along the sleeves and down the skirts. I trimmed the hems of the sleeves and skirts with gold and silver thread, and along the collar that should sit partway up my neck. Altogether, it was a beautiful garment, though I was very conscious of the fact that I'd never have tried this without my lights, and that they were to thank for the quality.
Grabbing it, I turned and held it to my shoulders.
"What do you think?" I asked Misa.
She sat up from a slouch, staring with wide eyes. Her mouth fell open and the tips of her white teeth peeked through her lips. "It is beautiful," she said, tone awed. Standing, she stepped closer to peer at it, poking a finger at the metal embroidery. "Is this really metal?"
"Copper, gold, and silver," I confirmed. "Would you mind helping me with something?"
Meeting my eyes, she nodded slowly. "What?"
I pointed a finger at the rack of bows on the far wall, "Can you grab a bow? I'd like you to loose an arrow at this."
A sharp and disbelieving laugh burst from her as she nodded, "Aye, I can. Why make it if you are just going to put holes in it?"
Before answering, I hung the dress on a nearby rack and stepped away. "It ought to stop the arrow, but I'm not sure." Turning, I saw her stringing the bow, then looking between the boxes of arrows. I pointed to those with heavier grain, "Try a heavy arrow first."
She glanced at me and nodded. Taking up an arrow, she nocked it, raised the bow, and pulled it back to her cheek. "You sure?" She asked as she aimed at the dress.
"Oh, yes, very sure."
The arrow loosed with a twang and there came a thunk as it impacted the wood behind the dress, bouncing off and clattering on the floor.
"Huh," Misa said, eyes wide.
Eagerly bounding forward, I checked over the dress, finding only a small divot where the point of the arrow had dug into the wood behind it. "Aha!" I laughed, holding up the fabric to show her, "No hole! Grab a knife and see if you can cut it, now!"
After a moment to recover, Misa lowered the bow and nodded, taking up one of the knives from a nearby box and unsheathing it. She stepped closer and slashed at the sleeve, an action that would have cut normal fabric apart. This, though, remained whole and unmarred. A long awed whistle blew from her pursed lips, "Not a scratch!"
"Misa, I can make clothes like this for everyone!" I told her, joy at a successful project warming my heart.
She stared at me for a second, a grin widening on her face. "Can you make me something first? Like this?" She pulled at the sleeve of her parka with her other hand.
Nodding, I felt myself grinning back. "Since you've been such help, sure! It'll take a bit but it shouldn't be too much work."
Setting the knife down on the work table, she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed, laughing with glee. "You know what this means for us, Maia? We won't need to fear raids or beasts!"
Squirming free of her, I took a step back, breathing heavily as the air felt too thick for my lungs. "Ah, ha, yeah. I'll work on real armor, too. Probably wouldn't be too difficult to put together some kind of wood plating with a thick underlayer."
Misa's smile was infectious, the corners of her eyes wrinkled with genuine happiness. There was hope in her gaze, I saw. "Grenwin said you mean to take us below the Wall."
"I do," I nodded, suppressing a cough. "I want to help the free folk stand on their own, you know? I want to teach you guys things that the southern lords haven't the faintest clue about, too."
She held my eyes for a long moment before nodding, "I believe you." Her lips drew to a serious line and she put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm with you, if you'll have me. I don't much like the thought o' traveling to Mance, not when we have you."
I blinked at her, unsure of how to take this declaration of loyalty. I gave her hand a pat, my own expression sobering. "I hope to earn that. I'm happy to take your aid, Misa."
Her lips pulled back to a grin. "I have to tell the others 'bout this!" She bounced back a pace and then darted out the portal.
I stared after her, bemusement burbling in my breast. It was kind of her to want to help, but I wasn't sure she knew what she was signing up for. Still… I felt responsible, now.
Musing on that, I changed into the dress, finding it fit just as I'd expected it to. It was far more comfortable than the parka, and I'd included slits in the back to pull my wings through without exposing a whole patch of skin to the air. I moved around, getting used to the feel of it. It was wonderful to wear and I felt it fit my figure well, though the coloring left much to be desired. I'd have to work on that.
Satisfied, I started putting together a list of things I'd work on.
I'd like some underwear, to start. Then I could put together Misa's request, then maybe a new pair of boots for myself. I wasn't sure how Grenwin had lost her shield, but I reckoned I might be able to make her something close to it. Maybe something like her round wooden buckler with an integrated gauntlet; the design fit together in my head easily, and I thought it might be useful for striking with. My mind made up, I got to work, heading back to the fabricator.
I wanted desperately to live up to what I claimed to believe. Maybe I was a monster, but that didn't mean I couldn't still try to be the woman I thought I'd been. I would use my power to keep my new friends safe, no matter the danger.
Some part of me recognized I was being carried and set down on a soft surface as I slipped into dreams of men and women surrounding me, their feature fuzzed and blurry, furious voices hurling blame and accusations at me. Then, brown eyes set in a split face stared into my soul, judging me, then they became vibrant green and Grenwin's disappointed features clearly found me wanting. She crumbled to dust even as I reached out to try and hold her together, leaving me handfuls of ash that stained my skin even as they blew away.
The nightmare faded as a galaxy of lights swung around me. They sang a cacophonous chorus, each chiming with a unique melody. Alone, they might have been pleasant; all together, they were overwhelming, discordant, each fighting to be heard over the rest. I sat in the center of a small cluster, a meager offering, though these few sung in harmony with each other. A light came free and fell towards me, bombarding me with visions of working with hide and sinew, weaving fibers into fabrics, producing clothing that protected indistinct people from harm; when the visions ended, the new light had harmonized with the rest, adding to my growing chorus.
Wakefulness tugged at me as I felt my body being shifted about, soft voices speaking meaningless words as my clothes were removed and my skin wiped down. A discomfort I hadn't been aware of began to ease as grime and grit were removed, leaving the feeling of cleanliness behind. It was over soon and a blanket was draped over me, and I slipped back to sleep.
Sometime later, I began to wake. The sound of snoring and birdsong drifted into my ears, I smelled the light scents of woodsmoke and aged hide, and I felt the weight of my body settled into the bedding below and around me. There was a hint of burning pork on the air. My mouth was dry and I worked moisture back into it as I turned over to rest on my side. Cracking my eyes open, I saw the far wall of Grenwin's home, darkness beyond the window.
The darkness shifted and I blinked, clearing my vision. There was a shape out there, something a little lighter than the black around it, visible as it moved. The world outside brightened with a silver glow and I saw it clearly.
A gray raven stood on the windowsill, peering at me. Silently, it hopped inside, wings flaring for a second as it came to land before my face. It drooped its head low, one dark eye gazing into my own. It clacked its beak once and shook, fluffing its feathers out, then lightly pecked my forehead before taking to the air and flying out the window.
The feeling of its beak against my skin felt strange. The suddenness of it had me lifting a hand to rub at the spot as my mind cleared of the fog clogging it. I was well and truly awake now, though fatigue still weighed my body down. I made it halfway through a sigh before my breath caught and I coughed. My nose felt stuffy and my eyes watered as I rubbed the sleep clear of them. Sitting up, I felt like I'd come down with a flu, body aching deeply. At least my thoughts were coming easily and felt properly ordered. I sneezed into the crook of my elbow, then again.
Checking myself over with my nanites, I couldn't find anything wrong that they could fix. I felt awful despite them.
"Maia?" Grenwin's voice asked from the shadows beyond the end of the bed. Then, I heard Ygdis's quiet muttering, the young woman saying something about wanting more sleep. They both must be in here, I realized.
"I'm here," I replied.
I heard the sounds of movement and a shadowed shape rose to move closer. In the soft light from outside, I saw Grenwin come to crouch next to me.
Her voice was intent despite the softness in her tone as she asked, "Are you well?"
"I think so. I feel like myself again." I coughed into my elbow, "Sick, but myself." Casting about my hazy memories of the day prior, I found I couldn't focus on specifics, though I was certain it had been awful. "What happened yesterday? I think I remember climbing the heart tree, but everything else might as well be fog."
"You don't remember." Her response came as a disbelieving statement.
I shook my head, not knowing if she could make it out in the dim light. Shifting to sit on the edge of the bed facing her, I rested my elbows on my thighs and leaned on them.
"I think it was terrible, but not much more."
Strong hands fell on my shoulders, holding tightly. I flinched away even as I froze, the reaction coming faster than I could stop. I'm safe, I had to tell myself, Grenwin wouldn't hurt me. I trust her. My eyes began to adjust to the light and I gasped as I made out the strange scarring on the side of her face.
"Maia," Grenwin said lowly, "Do you know what you did to me?"
My breath caught again, and not from a cough. Fear coiled in my chest, horror and despair, and an awful numbness roiled alongside it. My voice came out a whisper as tears blurred my vision. Slowly, I pieced together the fragmented memories.
"You… You were dying, Grenwin. I felt you falling apart and I couldn't stop it from happening. I… I didn't want you to go." My left hand clenched and relaxed reflexively, seeking comfort. "I had to give you my blood to make up for what you'd lost. It… I don't know what it did to you, but it saved you, let me bring you back. I needed you to stay so badly. I think, I think I was willing to…" I swallowed thickly as my throat constricted and my chest tightened, "I didn't want to go, but if it meant you could live, I would have paid any price."
Her hands squeezed my shoulders near to pain, hard enough I thought my collarbones might snap under her thumbs, and then she pulled me forward into her lap and wrapped her arms around me. Her breath was hot against my ear as she held me tightly. I felt her shuddering, and then she spoke, quiet and firm.
"I am not worth your life. I should have died long ago, given myself to the snow for the shame I brought to my family and my clan. I am a coward, Maia, and you…" Grenwin made a frustrated noise and shook, "I told you to stay. What were you thinking, joining the fight as you were?"
She was wrong. Grenwin was a good and kind woman who'd taken me under her wing despite everything wrong with me, despite everything I could do. It felt like she saw me for me, not as a label or a threat or a monster or tool to sacrifice. She was a better person than I and deserved to live a long and happy life, not to die nearly out of hand.
"Wrong," I murmured, voice thick with sadness, "You're wrong, Grenwin. A coward wouldn't have helped me as you have. You're a wonderful person for taking in a broken wretch like me. You've given me a chance to heal myself… To pick up the pieces and keep going."
I felt her jaw clenching against the side of my face as she shook again.
Dimly, I recalled hearing her bellowing cry, calling First Fork to her. With it came the memory of the writhing fire and the cold voice in my mind and the violation of my flesh. A keening noise rose from my throat. For a horrible moment, I thought it was still there, still creeping through my veins and my bones. Frantic, I checked with my nanites, searching everywhere for any trace of it, but there was nothing there. A sob ripped its way out of me.
"I heard you calling for everyone, and shouting and screaming, and I needed to help! The sword- It- It hurt me, took everything, but it helped me help everyone." My body was trembling violently, shivers that stole my breath and had me almost gasping for air. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt anyone!"
"The sword," Grenwin hissed out. "No, I am sorry. I should have taken it from you before leaving. We found the parts you left behind and I see now that my mistake led to this."
"No!" I hissed back, "If you had, I wouldn't have been able to help! I wouldn't have thought to… It gave me the idea to give you my blood, told me to do it. Without it, you would be dead." Frustration bubbled away inside me, "It hurt me badly, violated me, but you're still here. I can…" A shudder ran through me again, "I can accept that. This pain is worth your life."
In the quiet that followed, pressed against Grenwin as I was, I could hear her heart beating steadily under my ear. It was a soothing sound and for a few moments, I let the foggy memories of the day before swirl in my thoughts.
Grenwin took in a deep breath before sighing quietly. I felt her hand shift to run her fingers through my hair in long, soft strokes.
I'd killed. Altered state of mind or not, in shock or not, I'd taken lives, so many lives. The fact was cold as ice, settling in a hollow space deep within me where something bright had once shown, now shriveled and dead. Before, I'd thought killing was beyond me, a line I wouldn't cross. I thought I should feel something terrible, but there was just frozen apathy. I couldn't bring myself to care.
That emptiness scared me, wrapping around my heart like a crawling, burrowing flame. I had to check with the nanites, just to be sure, but no, there was nothing there; it was only in my head, like so much else seemed to be.
I'm a monster.
The thought echoed within me, bouncing about the emptiness and growing in intensity. I should care that I killed, I knew it, but there was nothing there. Grenwin's warmth, the feel of her arms around me, and the stroking of her fingers through my hair anchored me and stopped me from entering a self-destructive spiral. I hated that I could feel it waiting to take me, held at bay by the kindness of this woman I'd known for less than a week.
Ygdis groaned loudly nearby. "Can't the two o' you do this after the sun rises?"
Grenwin chuckled, a rumble that started deep in her chest and traveled upward.
"Sun is rising, Yg." She hummed for a moment, then spoke in my ear. "Maia, would you heal her? She took a few wounds in the fighting yesterday."
"Oh, yea, would you?" Ygdis said with excitement, her voice moving closer.
Shouldn't they be afraid of me, after what they'd seen me do?
My voice trembled as I spoke. "You aren't… Why would you want that, after what happened?"
Another hand came to rest on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. Ygdis spoke, "My leg hurts, is that reason enough for you? You took care of the others during the fighting, remember?"
I could, now. Teagj and Dagmoor had been dying from their wounds, but it hadn't been as bad as Grenwin's injury. Misa, too, she'd had a concussion, and Gudrid and Hild both had broken bones I'd knitted back together. Even amid everything, I'd still stopped to help them. Knowing that about myself helped warm the emptiness in my breast a little. A little lantern flame in the midst of a snowstorm as it was, it was better than having nothing at all.
"Alright," I said, "Just keep your hand there for a second while I fix you up."
"My thanks, Maia," Ygdis said eagerly.
The nanites passed through my skin and hers, flooding her body in moments. Her injuries weren't bad and I cleared them up before withdrawing the tiny machines.
"You're good now," I told her just before my breath caught in my lungs and a cough tore itself out of my chest.
Her hand withdrew and I heard her moving about nearby. "Aha! That is wondrous!" She crowed.
Grenwin hummed lightly for a moment, squeezing me once more before pushing me away a little. "Was that your first fight, Maia?"
I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.
"You did well, better than I had expected. I had hoped to prepare you more before bringing you to battle." Her tone was soft but firm, "As it is… You have my thanks for giving me your blood. I hope the next is not so dire."
"I still don't know what it did to you," I sniffled, "It changed you, somehow."
"Gave her a nice scar, it did," Ygdis said lightly from by the window, where she peered outside at the brightening sky.
Grenwin sighed and shook her head, "It'll serve a reminder, I reckon."
Reaching up, I lightly touched her face around the ashen mark. She stilled under my fingers and I took that as permission to trace them along the discolored skin. It felt rough and dry, not quite the skin of an aged woman but seeming close. Her eyes tightened and she set her jaw as I examined the oddity.
What had I done to her?
"Does it hurt?" My voice came out weak, near a whisper.
"No," Grenwin said after a moment, "'Twas tender before. Now, it feels like nothing."
"It's numb?"
Pursing her lips, Grenwin nodded. "Aye."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged, brushing it off. "We had a Thing about you. Most everyone wants you to join us."
I wasn't sure how to take that. I thought, after what Sigrid and Teagj had said, that it would be alright to stay. That had been before the battle, though.
"A thing?"
"A village meet," Ygdis said, coming over to crouch next to us. "Ah, Teagj gave you dragonglass, aye?"
Turning my head to meet her blue eyes, I nodded. "It's in one of my belt pouches."
"It belonged to my mother," Her words tumbled out in a rush, "She wore it as a necklace. Teagj took it when she joined the gods."
Remembering how I'd almost destroyed it with the recycler, my gut roiled. "Take it, then, it's yours. Should be yours. He wanted it to be a weapon, said he'd found it. I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
Ygdis's mouth widened and her cheeks pulled up in a beaming grin. She leaped to her feet and I watched as she moved over to where my belt hung and began digging through the pouches. The odds and ends I'd been given spilled to the dirt in a pile near the wall as she searched. She gave a victorious cry, clutching something to her breast and whirling to face us with tears in her eyes. A moment later, she had her arms wrapped around us in a wide hug, "You have my thanks, Maia!"
"Aye, and mine," Grenwin added. "I'd not known that Teagj had done what he did to you, Ygdis. You ought to have told me."
"It was my problem to solve," Ygdis stated simply.
I coughed again, "You don't need to thank me, it belonged to you anyway."
"Is this a catching sickness?" Ygdis asked with a little concern, "Gren said it wasn't."
"She's right," I confirmed, "It's only something that's affecting me. If it was catching, Grenwin ought to be feeling it too with how much of my blood she's got in her now."
Grenwin rumbled, "'M feeling fine."
Ygdis released us, leaning back to rest on her heels. "Hm. Well, at the Thing, we had a long talk over you, and you might want to see about making nice with Frerthe and Luta. Hild, too. Oh, and I'm to teach you our ways."
"I can talk to them," I nodded to her, "And I'd like to learn."
"Good!" Ygdis clapped her hands and rubbed them together, "When yer well again, I will show you the work that needs doing around First Fork."
"Okay. I'd be happy to help out!" A thought niggled at me, the memory of the dream of a light I'd picked up. Parsing it, I thought it meant I'd gained the ability to craft enhanced clothing and armor. I'd need to put it to use to test the effects, but at least I could tailor myself new clothes. I declared, "Ah, I can make and mend clothes, too! That'd be helpful, right?"
Ygdis blinked at me, a bemused smirk pulling at her lips. Grenwin chuckled, as though I'd said something funny.
"I think it might be," Ygdis said slowly, "I meant you'd be helping with the washing and mucking out the latrines."
That didn't sound so bad to me, what with the abilities granted by my lights and all. With how fast I could work, it likely wouldn't take too long anyway. "Oh, well, that's fine too. I don't mind getting my hands dirty."
"Good," Grenwin told me, then hesitated, green eyes flicking away from me. "You said the sword told you to give me your blood?"
A shudder ran down my spine and my hands clenched to fists. My knuckles creaked and then I was there again, kneeling on the pelt with fire violating me and a cold voice speaking into my thoughts.
"Maia?"
Grenwin's concerned question felt very distant as my hand clenched around the white-hot hilt, fingers unable to open, unable to separate myself from the metal. At the same time, flaming fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing.
"What's wrong with her?" Ygdis asked from far away.
A hard jolt brought me out of the past, Grenwin's hands gripping my shoulders and shaking me once more. Her eyes were wide and worried as they flicked about my face, "Maia, what happened? Another light?"
"No," I rasped, feeling as though iron bands had wrapped around my chest, tightening implacably closed. I fought for breath against the sensation. "No, not that. Just… Bad memories."
Grenwin exchanged a glance with Ygdis, asking her "Battle-shock?"
Ygdis shrugged, "Looked like it."
Another sigh escaped Grenwin's lips as she shook her head. Meeting my eyes again, she asked once more, "The sword spoke to you?"
I was able to stay present as the whirlwind of memories came back up. With great effort, I forced myself to nod.
"We ought to go get it," Ygdis suggested.
"Mmm," Grenwin hummed noncommittally, "We left it where it lay. None o' us wanted to touch it."
"It's outside?" I asked, voice hollow as I struggled to stay in the here and now.
"Aye, resting in a puddle o' that magic fire." Grenwin nodded to me.
Sudden anger flared in my chest, hot and bright. "Leave it," I snarled, "Let it sit and think about what it did to me!"
Grenwin's brows rose and her eyes widened.
"Swords don't think," Ygdis's concerned voice matched the cast of her face, "You, ah, are you sure that you are well?"
My vision was disfiguring, blurring and warping at the edges. I felt sweat prickling my brow, and the air was too hot and too thick to breathe. My hands trembled against Grenwin's sides.
"This one does! And I'm fine!" I snapped at Ygdis. She flinched away, blinking in shock and confusion.
"Later, then," Grenwin muttered, brows furrowed over concerned eyes. "Maybe we ought to speak of other things?"
I shook my head, feeling suddenly confined. My heart was hammering painfully, hard enough I thought it might burst free from my chest, my feet tingled with pins and needles, and my fists clenched hard enough that my nanites helpfully informed me my nails were digging bloody furrows into my palms.
Wriggling free of her arms, I rose to my feet. "No, I think I'm done talking for now. I- I need to get to work. I don't want to waste any more time."
"What are you talking about?" Ygdis asked, rallying herself.
Stepping quickly to where my parka and trousers hung over the fire, I pulled them on, ignoring the slight dampness to them. I grabbed my belt, leaving the pile of trinkets on the ground, tying it around my waist.
"I need to test some things," I told them, voice tight as I struggled to stay in control of myself. I was terrified that I would lash out at them, that I'd harm them somehow. I needed distance. "Make some clothes, that kind of thing. Come with me or don't, it's up to you." Pulling my boots on, I made for the door and left without waiting for an answer.
The air was crisp and fresh this morning, the brightening skies beyond the heart tree's canopy clear of clouds and studded with stars. I had to fight a spell of dizziness after a few steps, leaning heavily against Grenwin's house and puffing steaming breaths for a long moment until it passed. Making my way to the hall, I saw I was one of the few up and about at this hour. Passing Wyck on the path, we exchanged greetings.
"Good fight, that," he told me with appreciation as we parted.
I didn't have anything to say to that, so I nodded to him and continued on. The portal was still open next to the hall doors and I stepped through quickly, entering my little workshop, lit with warm sunlight and crowded with wooden boxes and racks of tools.
My worktable was messy. I stared at the clutter for a long moment before a howl tore from me and I swept my arms across the surface violently, sending tools clattering against crates and across the floor. Staring at the new mess I'd just made, my body shuddered and my eyes watered. I was too hot one moment, freezing the next. I pressed my palms flat against the surface and leaned against it, closing my eyes and breathing heavily.
Calm. I'm okay. Focus on my breathing. In, count to five, hold it, count to seven, out, count to three. Again. I'm alright. Breathe again.
Gradually, the iron bands around my chest loosened and fell away. Tears splashed against wood, falling freely from my cheeks. My heart slowed from its hammering, leaving my chest aching.
What is wrong with me?
Was this the start of a panic attack? I'd not suffered those before, but I didn't think I'd felt this much anxiety, or had black bones, or had wings, either. I had to face that I wasn't who I'd thought I was.
A mirthless chuckle sounded and it took a moment to realize that empty laugh was coming from my throat. What a terrible way to start the day.
I needed to focus.
First things first, I wanted to test this new light. I struggled for a moment, trying to decide what to start with, eventually coming to realize I should go over the resources I had available first. Moving over to the fabricator bay, I poked at the terminal, surprised to see the catalog of patterns had grown significantly.
Thankfully, the system categorized them for me, making it much easier to break down what could be reproduced. I noted a significant amount of coinage, roundels of silver and copper and gold with a wide variety of weights and metal content. There were a myriad of trinkets as well, rings of bone and brass, twisted iron shapes I had no context for, and more besides. There was an entire category dedicated to textile samples, ranging from leather to flax and hemp linens to oiled cloths to cotton and even some silks. There were weapons as well, cudgels and crossbows and catchpoles.
Belatedly, I realized that all of this must have come from the slavers. In a way, I was pleased that they'd given me access to such a variety of things to work with. That felt a guilty thought and shame curdled my belly. I'd put this to use to help First Fork. At least something good could come from this mess.
First, though, I was tired of this parka and wanted something that fit me better. Going over the list of materials, a design came together in my head. It would take time to dismantle some of the samples for thread, and then I recalled the computer-aided design program I'd found.
Switching over to that, I spent some time familiarizing myself with the interface. It was deceptively easy to use, though I suspected a portion of that ease came from the light granting my ecotech. The program had several operating modes, including one specifically for handling textiles, and I put that to use in designing a bolt of cotton fabric, adjusting the weave and composition of the fibers with the inbuilt tools.
Saving the design as a new pattern, I had the fabricator print it, and a moment later I pulled the roll of white cotton cloth out of the output hatch. Taking a moment to appreciate what I'd just done, I hugged it close as I thought of all the things I could do with this wonderful machine.
Electronics were well within reach, I realized with awe. I needed to take the time to transcribe the information stored in my lights to patterns, but once done, I could print them as needed. This miraculous device unshackled me from so many limitations that the thought made my head spin. I wasn't reliant on infrastructure or industry, requiring only the raw resources instead.
Through more experimentation, I put together a variety of threads in a multitude of weights. Bobbins of cotton, linen, wools, silks, and spools of several metals were soon saved as patterns. Bolts of fabric followed, coming quicker as I figured out my workflow. The system was intuitive enough that I felt well-versed in its use by the time I'd put together the variety I wanted. I could add to the pattern database later as more ideas came; for now, I felt this was a good start.
Finishing up, I checked the design in my head and printed the materials I needed, carrying them over to the workshop. With all of my lights, it wouldn't take more than an hour to assemble the garment. Excitement buzzed along my limbs as I began to work.
Halfway through, my hands stilled as my attention was pulled to my realm of lights. A constellation was approaching and I felt my grasping limb coiled and ready. Trying not to interfere, I relaxed and let it do its thing. It lashed out and expended a portion of itself as it knocked a light free, then it sought several others before withdrawing once more.
There were six in total, each quite small save for a duo of slightly larger lights. As they joined the others around me, I struggled to hold the information they bombarded me with. Most dealt with singing and dancing, though one granted me the training to pilot some kind of aircraft. Vaguely, I felt disappointed as I returned to myself.
I'd not been a very musical person, I didn't think, but I could appreciate it when others sang well. Now, these lights let me sing and dance with the best of them if I could work myself up to show that to others. There were more subtle skills included, an ability to come up with lyrics and tunes on the spot, and another that gave me the grace necessary to dance well. I understood music at a fundamental level now and could play most common instruments relatively well.
The duo of larger lights granted me a means to project emotion with my songs, to better recognize and understand the feelings of others around me, and to inspire listeners and invoke the emotions I wanted them to feel. It wasn't anything that could control someone or make them act in a way they normally wouldn't, but it was still quite powerful.
It was up to me to find a use for this. None of these lights came with instructions or guides, but these felt even less useful to me than the others I'd gathered so far. Maybe I'd start singing at the evening meals. These folks appreciated music deeply enough that I might be entertaining.
"Maia?" Misa's soft question came from behind me and I whirled in surprise. She sat on one of the wooden crates, one leg crossed over the other and leaning forward to peer at me behind brown curls of hair.
Pressing a hand to my chest, I felt my heart beating rapidly. I had no idea how long she'd been there without my realizing and I felt my throat tighten.
"Please, don't sneak up on me like that!"
She blinked her warm brown eyes at me, "I said hello when I came in. You didn't hear me?"
"I was distracted," I said quickly, "Did you need something?"
"To thank you," Misa said, booted foot bobbing in the air with nervous energy. "For helping us. The others say there would have been more death if you hadn't."
Nodding slowly, I looked away, the smell of copper and offal clinging to my nose. "Ah, you're welcome. Ygdis and Grenwin said there'd been a thing yesterday?"
She nodded back, "Aye. Thought I would come and be the first to come and welcome you as one o' us, but, ah, you seem busy." She lifted a hand and gestured at the half-complete dress on the worktable.
"Well, thank you," I told her, putting as much warmth into my tone as I could muster. "Sorry for snapping at you a moment ago. I was very distracted."
"'S fine," she shrugged the apology off, "What is that, anyway?"
"It's going to be a dress, soon. I think I can make clothes that are enhanced like my wooden tools are. They ought to be perfectly warm no matter how cold it gets and tough enough to be like armor."
"Oh," interest brightened her tone, "Can I watch?"
"Sure. It won't take much longer 'till I'm done with this." I tried giving her a smile before turning back to the workbench and scowling at the fabric there. I'd hoped to be left alone for a bit. Well, I supposed I had been, and I'd used it up while avoiding my problems. Getting back to work, I tried to lose myself in the effort of tailoring. Absently, I started humming a tune as I labored.
Misa was blessedly quiet and I almost forgot the young woman was present as the dress came together. It was high-necked, with long sleeves and narrow divided skirts that ought to end just above my ankles, maintaining my range of movement. Though it was plain undyed cotton, the fabric I'd put together was light and strong, with embroidered copper vines and silver leaves around the waist, up the front, and along the sleeves and down the skirts. I trimmed the hems of the sleeves and skirts with gold and silver thread, and along the collar that should sit partway up my neck. Altogether, it was a beautiful garment, though I was very conscious of the fact that I'd never have tried this without my lights, and that they were to thank for the quality.
Grabbing it, I turned and held it to my shoulders.
"What do you think?" I asked Misa.
She sat up from a slouch, staring with wide eyes. Her mouth fell open and the tips of her white teeth peeked through her lips. "It is beautiful," she said, tone awed. Standing, she stepped closer to peer at it, poking a finger at the metal embroidery. "Is this really metal?"
"Copper, gold, and silver," I confirmed. "Would you mind helping me with something?"
Meeting my eyes, she nodded slowly. "What?"
I pointed a finger at the rack of bows on the far wall, "Can you grab a bow? I'd like you to loose an arrow at this."
A sharp and disbelieving laugh burst from her as she nodded, "Aye, I can. Why make it if you are just going to put holes in it?"
Before answering, I hung the dress on a nearby rack and stepped away. "It ought to stop the arrow, but I'm not sure." Turning, I saw her stringing the bow, then looking between the boxes of arrows. I pointed to those with heavier grain, "Try a heavy arrow first."
She glanced at me and nodded. Taking up an arrow, she nocked it, raised the bow, and pulled it back to her cheek. "You sure?" She asked as she aimed at the dress.
"Oh, yes, very sure."
The arrow loosed with a twang and there came a thunk as it impacted the wood behind the dress, bouncing off and clattering on the floor.
"Huh," Misa said, eyes wide.
Eagerly bounding forward, I checked over the dress, finding only a small divot where the point of the arrow had dug into the wood behind it. "Aha!" I laughed, holding up the fabric to show her, "No hole! Grab a knife and see if you can cut it, now!"
After a moment to recover, Misa lowered the bow and nodded, taking up one of the knives from a nearby box and unsheathing it. She stepped closer and slashed at the sleeve, an action that would have cut normal fabric apart. This, though, remained whole and unmarred. A long awed whistle blew from her pursed lips, "Not a scratch!"
"Misa, I can make clothes like this for everyone!" I told her, joy at a successful project warming my heart.
She stared at me for a second, a grin widening on her face. "Can you make me something first? Like this?" She pulled at the sleeve of her parka with her other hand.
Nodding, I felt myself grinning back. "Since you've been such help, sure! It'll take a bit but it shouldn't be too much work."
Setting the knife down on the work table, she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed, laughing with glee. "You know what this means for us, Maia? We won't need to fear raids or beasts!"
Squirming free of her, I took a step back, breathing heavily as the air felt too thick for my lungs. "Ah, ha, yeah. I'll work on real armor, too. Probably wouldn't be too difficult to put together some kind of wood plating with a thick underlayer."
Misa's smile was infectious, the corners of her eyes wrinkled with genuine happiness. There was hope in her gaze, I saw. "Grenwin said you mean to take us below the Wall."
"I do," I nodded, suppressing a cough. "I want to help the free folk stand on their own, you know? I want to teach you guys things that the southern lords haven't the faintest clue about, too."
She held my eyes for a long moment before nodding, "I believe you." Her lips drew to a serious line and she put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm with you, if you'll have me. I don't much like the thought o' traveling to Mance, not when we have you."
I blinked at her, unsure of how to take this declaration of loyalty. I gave her hand a pat, my own expression sobering. "I hope to earn that. I'm happy to take your aid, Misa."
Her lips pulled back to a grin. "I have to tell the others 'bout this!" She bounced back a pace and then darted out the portal.
I stared after her, bemusement burbling in my breast. It was kind of her to want to help, but I wasn't sure she knew what she was signing up for. Still… I felt responsible, now.
Musing on that, I changed into the dress, finding it fit just as I'd expected it to. It was far more comfortable than the parka, and I'd included slits in the back to pull my wings through without exposing a whole patch of skin to the air. I moved around, getting used to the feel of it. It was wonderful to wear and I felt it fit my figure well, though the coloring left much to be desired. I'd have to work on that.
Satisfied, I started putting together a list of things I'd work on.
I'd like some underwear, to start. Then I could put together Misa's request, then maybe a new pair of boots for myself. I wasn't sure how Grenwin had lost her shield, but I reckoned I might be able to make her something close to it. Maybe something like her round wooden buckler with an integrated gauntlet; the design fit together in my head easily, and I thought it might be useful for striking with. My mind made up, I got to work, heading back to the fabricator.
I wanted desperately to live up to what I claimed to believe. Maybe I was a monster, but that didn't mean I couldn't still try to be the woman I thought I'd been. I would use my power to keep my new friends safe, no matter the danger.
Author's Notes: Maia IX
Notes:
Maia's dreams are not prophetic. They're the result of the trauma she'd gone through the previous day.
Her dream of the lights is meant to hint at what Maia is doing with the Forge. To tell it straight, it is damaged and very, very broken. Maia is serving as an ad-hoc administrator and is gradually restoring order.
When she is asleep and catches a light, the information is presented to her through the lens of a dream. She can miss when this happens if she misinterprets her dreams, but she's more likely than not going to recognize when it happens.
Grenwin and Ygdis did clean her up, at least.
The moon continues to act in a way that normal celestial bodies do not. It doesn't appear to be in league with the mind behind the ravens.
The raven's interest in Maia is probably not good for her. Pecking her forehead isn't necessarily it trying to open her third eye or anything, but if that were to happen, she'd become more vulnerable to manipulation.
Maia's physical illness here partially comes from what she did to revive Grenwin, partially from the channeling sickness. As a result, her nanites can't really help with the problem.
She has clear difficulties remembering the events of the prior day. This is a result of her altered state of mind at the time.
Maia can't tell, but Grenwin is very angry that she can't recall what happened. The Ice Wife was very, very close to violence before Maia explained what she could remember.
Grenwin's tale is rough. The Ice Wives are a matriarchal society organized into clans that each hold control of some of the territories north of the Antler. Her clan, Clan Kunlin, holds the most power among them and has for some time now. As the first daughter of the clan mother, she was raised with harsh and exacting standards and punished brutally when she couldn't meet expectations. She did gain some measure of respect when she bonded a Bear, and further as she distinguished herself as a raid-leader, but it all vanished when she and her crew ran into a group of ambushing Others. The Others allowed her to live. On her return to the Kunlin holdings, she was ostracized for continuing to live after her Bear had perished, culminating in her mother dealing with Grenwin herself. Grenwin was taken south out of the Kunlin lands to be executed, but her mother had her own moment of weakness and allowed her to live so long as she never returned to their lands. From there, Grenwin wandered southward until she collapsed and was found by hunters from First Fork, one of whom, Lorni, claimed her as his own for rescuing her. He lacked the strength to keep her, and so Grenwin remains a free woman 'till the current day. Grenwin still considers herself a craven of the highest order for not killing herself after losing her Bear, and more for the pity her mother showed. It isn't that she believes she should die, but if she did, she'd feel she deserved it.
Maia, of course, knows very little of that tale and takes Grenwin as she is. This is one of the reasons Grenwin likes her so much. The feeling seems to be mutual.
Maia is being very hard on herself. By every meaningful metric, she was in the right to kill to defend her people against literal slavers. Still, she never thought she was capable of it, and now that she knows how easy it is, she's scared of her own apathy. She's still in shock, one night's rest isn't enough for her to recover, but she isn't quantifying that.
Neither Ygdis nor Grenwin mention that Ygdis is bound to fight Teagj soon.
Maia is subconsciously beating herself up over using her nanites on Grenwin without her consent the day before. She isn't actively processing it, but this is why she refrains from using them on the Ice Wife during this whole scene.
The wildling women aren't sure how to take the concept of Maia giving her blood to Grenwin. We know that blood transfusions are a completely valid medical treatment, but for them, it's unheard of. For the moment, they're rolling with it, though Grenwin is struggling to understand what it means for her beyond the ashen scar.
Ygdis finally gets her mother's dragonglass back. She respects Maia more for understanding that it belonged to her to begin with, and for giving it over freely.
Teagj's takeover happened before Grenwin arrived.
Ygdis telling Maia that she has to do chores is an important moment. Before, Maia hadn't considered doing those things, focusing instead on the things she could do with her lights. Going forward, she's going to be making an effort to meaningfully contribute to the daily work around the village.
Grenwin's question prompts a trauma response. Maia is very much not okay with what the sword did to her, though both Ygdis and Grenwin wrongfully interpret her reaction as lingering battle-shock. In our modern parlance, the violation Maia experienced gave her PTSD. She suffers a panic attack as a result.
Maia's urge to focus on working as a coping mechanism isn't healthy for her in the long run.
In the prior chapter, Herrick makes several mentions of Maia's "maker-machine" and even outright declares they should dump the loot from the slavers into it. As a result, there's quite a bit of stuff now in the system for Maia to put to use. She's going to thank him profusely as soon as she finds out it was his idea.
The inclusion of the CAD suite marks a major divergence from the first iteration. Before, Maia didn't really do much actual design work, relying on things the Forge physically gave her, the tablets being the prime example. I changed this thanks to feedback I received that pointed out that Maia really didn't do a whole lot of crafting for a Celestial Forge story, and I wanted to rectify that.
Another change from the first iteration, we didn't actually see Maia's process of figuring out her enhanced clothing. She's prototyping here and will later be taking the time to do her sewing and tailoring around others, as it is an important social ritual among the Antler-folk and many other wildling societies.
And yet another change, she receives a small cluster of lights relating to song and dance before the variable fighter or the closet full of clothes. Despite her initial reaction, its important for her to participate in the local culture and these lights give her the means, though not the confidence.
Maia would rather Misa not be around while she's working, but she doesn't even consider asking her to leave. Maia subconsciously believes she doesn't have boundaries worth respecting.
The influence of her new lights is already showing as she hums to herself.
Cotton is a luxury fabric in Westeros and the Free Cities. Maia doesn't know that as she's used to our modern convenience.
Maia mentions putting together wooden armor. In my head, I was envisioning something like Fallout's combat armor rather than medieval plate, with protective plating over the vital areas, shoulders, upper and lower arms, legs, and armored boots. Other areas would be protected by the underlayer.
Misa is the first to pledge herself to Maia's cause. A lot of this has to do with the way she fought the day before; Misa idolizes her for saving her and her parents, and her friends. Everything else Maia offers only strengthens her conviction. Of course, she's an impressionable seventeen year old, so she's more prone to this kind of thing than the more experienced adults.
Maia's idea for Grenwin's new shield takes a lot of inspiration from the lantern shield Fallen Icarus informed me of. My hope is that it becomes something of an iconic piece of kit for Maia's people, given the uniqueness behind this particular concept for a combined offensive-defensive device.
Maia makes a promise to herself at the end here that I feel better humanizes her. In the first iteration, 'helping because I should' is a fine enough motivation, but it ultimately stemmed from her internalized superiority complex. Here, helping because she's latched onto these folks and they've all just suffered a much more violent raid than the Other's first attack feels much better.
Maia's dreams are not prophetic. They're the result of the trauma she'd gone through the previous day.
Her dream of the lights is meant to hint at what Maia is doing with the Forge. To tell it straight, it is damaged and very, very broken. Maia is serving as an ad-hoc administrator and is gradually restoring order.
When she is asleep and catches a light, the information is presented to her through the lens of a dream. She can miss when this happens if she misinterprets her dreams, but she's more likely than not going to recognize when it happens.
Grenwin and Ygdis did clean her up, at least.
The moon continues to act in a way that normal celestial bodies do not. It doesn't appear to be in league with the mind behind the ravens.
The raven's interest in Maia is probably not good for her. Pecking her forehead isn't necessarily it trying to open her third eye or anything, but if that were to happen, she'd become more vulnerable to manipulation.
Maia's physical illness here partially comes from what she did to revive Grenwin, partially from the channeling sickness. As a result, her nanites can't really help with the problem.
She has clear difficulties remembering the events of the prior day. This is a result of her altered state of mind at the time.
Maia can't tell, but Grenwin is very angry that she can't recall what happened. The Ice Wife was very, very close to violence before Maia explained what she could remember.
Grenwin's tale is rough. The Ice Wives are a matriarchal society organized into clans that each hold control of some of the territories north of the Antler. Her clan, Clan Kunlin, holds the most power among them and has for some time now. As the first daughter of the clan mother, she was raised with harsh and exacting standards and punished brutally when she couldn't meet expectations. She did gain some measure of respect when she bonded a Bear, and further as she distinguished herself as a raid-leader, but it all vanished when she and her crew ran into a group of ambushing Others. The Others allowed her to live. On her return to the Kunlin holdings, she was ostracized for continuing to live after her Bear had perished, culminating in her mother dealing with Grenwin herself. Grenwin was taken south out of the Kunlin lands to be executed, but her mother had her own moment of weakness and allowed her to live so long as she never returned to their lands. From there, Grenwin wandered southward until she collapsed and was found by hunters from First Fork, one of whom, Lorni, claimed her as his own for rescuing her. He lacked the strength to keep her, and so Grenwin remains a free woman 'till the current day. Grenwin still considers herself a craven of the highest order for not killing herself after losing her Bear, and more for the pity her mother showed. It isn't that she believes she should die, but if she did, she'd feel she deserved it.
Maia, of course, knows very little of that tale and takes Grenwin as she is. This is one of the reasons Grenwin likes her so much. The feeling seems to be mutual.
Maia is being very hard on herself. By every meaningful metric, she was in the right to kill to defend her people against literal slavers. Still, she never thought she was capable of it, and now that she knows how easy it is, she's scared of her own apathy. She's still in shock, one night's rest isn't enough for her to recover, but she isn't quantifying that.
Neither Ygdis nor Grenwin mention that Ygdis is bound to fight Teagj soon.
Maia is subconsciously beating herself up over using her nanites on Grenwin without her consent the day before. She isn't actively processing it, but this is why she refrains from using them on the Ice Wife during this whole scene.
The wildling women aren't sure how to take the concept of Maia giving her blood to Grenwin. We know that blood transfusions are a completely valid medical treatment, but for them, it's unheard of. For the moment, they're rolling with it, though Grenwin is struggling to understand what it means for her beyond the ashen scar.
Ygdis finally gets her mother's dragonglass back. She respects Maia more for understanding that it belonged to her to begin with, and for giving it over freely.
Teagj's takeover happened before Grenwin arrived.
Ygdis telling Maia that she has to do chores is an important moment. Before, Maia hadn't considered doing those things, focusing instead on the things she could do with her lights. Going forward, she's going to be making an effort to meaningfully contribute to the daily work around the village.
Grenwin's question prompts a trauma response. Maia is very much not okay with what the sword did to her, though both Ygdis and Grenwin wrongfully interpret her reaction as lingering battle-shock. In our modern parlance, the violation Maia experienced gave her PTSD. She suffers a panic attack as a result.
Maia's urge to focus on working as a coping mechanism isn't healthy for her in the long run.
In the prior chapter, Herrick makes several mentions of Maia's "maker-machine" and even outright declares they should dump the loot from the slavers into it. As a result, there's quite a bit of stuff now in the system for Maia to put to use. She's going to thank him profusely as soon as she finds out it was his idea.
The inclusion of the CAD suite marks a major divergence from the first iteration. Before, Maia didn't really do much actual design work, relying on things the Forge physically gave her, the tablets being the prime example. I changed this thanks to feedback I received that pointed out that Maia really didn't do a whole lot of crafting for a Celestial Forge story, and I wanted to rectify that.
Another change from the first iteration, we didn't actually see Maia's process of figuring out her enhanced clothing. She's prototyping here and will later be taking the time to do her sewing and tailoring around others, as it is an important social ritual among the Antler-folk and many other wildling societies.
And yet another change, she receives a small cluster of lights relating to song and dance before the variable fighter or the closet full of clothes. Despite her initial reaction, its important for her to participate in the local culture and these lights give her the means, though not the confidence.
Maia would rather Misa not be around while she's working, but she doesn't even consider asking her to leave. Maia subconsciously believes she doesn't have boundaries worth respecting.
The influence of her new lights is already showing as she hums to herself.
Cotton is a luxury fabric in Westeros and the Free Cities. Maia doesn't know that as she's used to our modern convenience.
Maia mentions putting together wooden armor. In my head, I was envisioning something like Fallout's combat armor rather than medieval plate, with protective plating over the vital areas, shoulders, upper and lower arms, legs, and armored boots. Other areas would be protected by the underlayer.
Misa is the first to pledge herself to Maia's cause. A lot of this has to do with the way she fought the day before; Misa idolizes her for saving her and her parents, and her friends. Everything else Maia offers only strengthens her conviction. Of course, she's an impressionable seventeen year old, so she's more prone to this kind of thing than the more experienced adults.
Maia's idea for Grenwin's new shield takes a lot of inspiration from the lantern shield Fallen Icarus informed me of. My hope is that it becomes something of an iconic piece of kit for Maia's people, given the uniqueness behind this particular concept for a combined offensive-defensive device.
Maia makes a promise to herself at the end here that I feel better humanizes her. In the first iteration, 'helping because I should' is a fine enough motivation, but it ultimately stemmed from her internalized superiority complex. Here, helping because she's latched onto these folks and they've all just suffered a much more violent raid than the Other's first attack feels much better.
Singer: Base perk for the Macross cluster.
Your memories are your own; you have no additional personality or instincts affecting you. You have no contacts, information, or allies to assist you in the beginning.You wake up inside a hotel room, with a list of choices you can take for concert options. Not very good ones, but you gotta start somewhere, right? And if you do well, you can potentially make it further! ...or not, you could choose to do something else as well. Either way? It's time to make your mark on the world.
Basic Training: Piloting a Variable Fighter can be pretty complex. There's all kinds of modes and maneuvers to worry about... with this, you won't have to worry so much. You'll know which button does what, and you won't end up turning into a mech when you need a jet. ...but I reserve the right to laugh if you mess up anyway.
Serene Sinatra: You're no slouch in the singing department, that's for sure. You may not be popular idol material, but no one's going to complain if you decide to sing along to a song or randomly bust out a tune with a voice like this. Who knows, maybe you could practice and get a little better?
Lyrical Repository: You've got everything that you need, right in front of you! Nothing's stopping you, nothing that you can't do when the world's in front of you! You can turn ANYTHING into a song, and you'll never have any issues when it comes to figuring out how to word your lyrics. With this you can even start singing right in the middle of a crowd, and make it damned catchy based on simply what's around you. You'd be perfect for a musical, maybe you can try and revive the genre?
Graceful Reflexes: Let the rhythm move your feet! You know that for a song, a dance can work wonders to amplify the effects. After all, humans are not stationary creatures... and you're going to prove it! Your movements and actions can become more graceful at the flick of a switch, moving with the rhythm of any song around you... especially if you're the one singing it. Expect to turn the heads of any watching.
Voice of Gold: You are GOOD. Seriously, your voice could sway just about anyone, and is something no one will ever tire of hearing. Any song you sing will be that much better as a result, and you'll find social events working in your favor. Sirens would be envious of you, as your songs could inspire entire groups of people to go along with your message... even if the message is to fight.
Heart of Gold: There are all manners of emotions a singer can play to when they voice their song. There are songs meant to make others happy, songs to sadden others... songs to make people angry. Any singer who does not understand emotions is a singer doomed to fail. You have a good idea of how to sing your songs to invoke certain emotions, but you also can pick up on how people around you are truly feeling quicker than most. Life may be a show, but the audience is never to be ignored.
Your memories are your own; you have no additional personality or instincts affecting you. You have no contacts, information, or allies to assist you in the beginning.
Basic Training: Piloting a Variable Fighter can be pretty complex. There's all kinds of modes and maneuvers to worry about... with this, you won't have to worry so much. You'll know which button does what, and you won't end up turning into a mech when you need a jet. ...but I reserve the right to laugh if you mess up anyway.
Serene Sinatra: You're no slouch in the singing department, that's for sure. You may not be popular idol material, but no one's going to complain if you decide to sing along to a song or randomly bust out a tune with a voice like this. Who knows, maybe you could practice and get a little better?
Lyrical Repository: You've got everything that you need, right in front of you! Nothing's stopping you, nothing that you can't do when the world's in front of you! You can turn ANYTHING into a song, and you'll never have any issues when it comes to figuring out how to word your lyrics. With this you can even start singing right in the middle of a crowd, and make it damned catchy based on simply what's around you. You'd be perfect for a musical, maybe you can try and revive the genre?
Graceful Reflexes: Let the rhythm move your feet! You know that for a song, a dance can work wonders to amplify the effects. After all, humans are not stationary creatures... and you're going to prove it! Your movements and actions can become more graceful at the flick of a switch, moving with the rhythm of any song around you... especially if you're the one singing it. Expect to turn the heads of any watching.
Voice of Gold: You are GOOD. Seriously, your voice could sway just about anyone, and is something no one will ever tire of hearing. Any song you sing will be that much better as a result, and you'll find social events working in your favor. Sirens would be envious of you, as your songs could inspire entire groups of people to go along with your message... even if the message is to fight.
Heart of Gold: There are all manners of emotions a singer can play to when they voice their song. There are songs meant to make others happy, songs to sadden others... songs to make people angry. Any singer who does not understand emotions is a singer doomed to fail. You have a good idea of how to sing your songs to invoke certain emotions, but you also can pick up on how people around you are truly feeling quicker than most. Life may be a show, but the audience is never to be ignored.
I will admit, I was initially more than skeptical about the idea of a huge rollback and major rewrite.
But, now that I've taken the time to go and reread (or, given the significant divergence, read for the first time) the story from the start, I am very glad that I decided to stick around. I was expecting to skim my way through a rehash of old content before reaching the new divergence, but happily found myself hooked and pulled in by a fresh compelling narrative instead.
This rewrite is markedly better than the original. The original was serviceable, but at times felt somewhat mechanical and stiff in the early chapters (and somewhat bloated with extra features in the mid-late ones). This however has a much more sense of a narrative to it. Of events properly growing from one another rather than merely happening in sequence. The characters and their relationships are much more well defined (and done so earlier on) than previously and everything as a whole feels much more natural.
It is abundantly clear how the author has grown and improved their craft since the initial version was posted, and I look forward to excitedly devouring each new update as we are graced with them. Sorry I doubted you, dear author. I will not make that mistake again.
But, now that I've taken the time to go and reread (or, given the significant divergence, read for the first time) the story from the start, I am very glad that I decided to stick around. I was expecting to skim my way through a rehash of old content before reaching the new divergence, but happily found myself hooked and pulled in by a fresh compelling narrative instead.
This rewrite is markedly better than the original. The original was serviceable, but at times felt somewhat mechanical and stiff in the early chapters (and somewhat bloated with extra features in the mid-late ones). This however has a much more sense of a narrative to it. Of events properly growing from one another rather than merely happening in sequence. The characters and their relationships are much more well defined (and done so earlier on) than previously and everything as a whole feels much more natural.
It is abundantly clear how the author has grown and improved their craft since the initial version was posted, and I look forward to excitedly devouring each new update as we are graced with them. Sorry I doubted you, dear author. I will not make that mistake again.
Hey, at this point, I wouldn't blame anyone for having doubts! Thank you very much for sticking around and giving it a fair shake! Thank you as well for the kind words, reading this has been the highlight of my morning. I'm going to do my best to keep this level of quality up and I hope not to disappoint in the future!
Ygdis II: Training and Confrontation
Frozen air filled Ygdis's lungs before steaming out between her lips. She felt full of energy as she held her spear low before her, wary of Grenwin's aggression. Slipping her foot through the snow, Ygdis began a slow circle around the Ice Wife, who watched her with focused green eyes. In the shade of the heart tree, her new scar lent her visage a fearsome appearance.
The corner of Grenwin's mouth twitched up, Ygdis's only warning before the towering woman charged. Two quick paces ate the distance between them.
Clack-clackclack-clack
The crack of wood-on-wood sounded as Ygdis fended off the sudden assault. She felt a wild grin on her face as Grenwin's spear came within a hair's breadth of striking her shoulder while she hopped backward. This was different, in the best way. It was as though Grenwin was a different fighter altogether, her old weaknesses seemingly gone. She no longer favored her right side and the she-bear's endurance had grown overnight. Ygdis found herself hard-pressed to maintain her defense as she sought for an opening.
Clackclack-clack-clack-thump
Pain bloomed at Ygdis's right shoulder as the haft of Grenwin's spear slammed into it; the attack left the Ice Wife open and Ygdis struck at her knee. Grenwin winced, rhythm disrupted, and Ygdis stepped closer to press the attack. She realized her mistake a moment too late as Grenwin lunged, then Ygdis was hoisted into the air and tossed in a single motion. She tumbled to the snow, a cry of surprise leaving her lips.
Disoriented, she sat, propping herself up with her arms as Grenwin approached. The other woman rested her spear against her shoulder and grinned down at her.
"That's new, that is," Ygdis said in good humor, shaking off the surprise. "Thought this was a spar?"
Grenwin offered her a hand and Ygdis took it, letting the Ice Wife haul her to her feet. "You mean to fight Teagj. He's bound to have a few surprises of his own." Grenwin's smile faltered and her brows drew down, "I aim to prepare you as best I can, Ygdis. I told you, I don't want to burn your body."
Ygdis met her eyes, "He wouldn't kill me."
Grenwin grimaced, "I'm not so sure o' that. You Antler-folk might not want to bleed each other, strange as it is to me, but I've known men like him. Expect him to try."
Pursing her lips, Ygdis considered Grenwin's wisdom. As far as she knew, Teagj only held power because her mother chose him to succeed her; Ygdis had been the first to challenge him since. Doubt flickered in her breast as she wondered at the reasons that might be. She'd assumed the others refrained out of respect for her mother's decision, but he was quite fearsome in battle… Finally, she nodded to Grenwin.
"Aye, I understand, I think. Again?"
Grenwin studied her for a long moment before the tension around her eyes eased and she sighed with relief, "I see you do. Again."
Ygdis scooped up her practice spear, taking a few paces away from the Ice Wife before turning and dropping into a ready stance. She saw Grenwin peering past her and Ygdis turned to look just as a call reached her ears.
"Hey, you two!"
Maia came striding through the snow towards them along the path to the heart tree, wearing a peculiar pale dress that hugged her figure closely and waving her hand at them. Ygdis blinked, her eyes sharp enough to make out the copper vines with silver leaves twining up Maia's arms and sides, elaborate silver and gold at her neck, and along the hems of her sleeves and skirts. It seemed as though she'd somehow drawn metal into thread. Nobody else, Ygdis thought with bemusement, would wear something so clearly lacking in warmth in these lands. A leather strap crossed her front and the long neck of a wooden instrument stuck out over her shoulder, three wooden pegs sticking out of the head.
Grenwin called past Ygdis, "How're you feeling?"
"Better, now," Maia said as she approached, strange eyes turning toward Ygdis. There was a tension at their corners, Ygdis saw, and her mouth was set in a firm line. The short woman's feet were clad in boots in a style Ygdis had never seen before, leather hugging her ankles and shins close, tied across the front with crossed cord. She walked right up to Ygdis, stopping a pace away and looking up at her.
Ygdis wasn't sure what to say, not after the outburst earlier. She met Maia's mismatched eyes, gladdened to see they were no longer empty and hollow. It seemed that a little spark had returned to them. It had scared her, more after Gren had explained Maia's affliction and the quiet madness she'd seen. Ygdis had heard enough stories of the harm the mad can bring and found herself desiring to help the stranger; she'd rather have the kind, if odd, Builder over a madwoman with a terrible blade.
Snow crunched behind Ygdis as Grenwin moved to stand next to her. Maia's gaze shifted between the two of them as she wrung her fingers together, then bent low at the shoulders. The instrument on her back was a three-stringed lute of an unfamiliar style, the neck extremely long and slim for the relatively small drum.
"I apologize for my tantrum earlier." Maia's melodic voice sounded sincere to Ygdis's ears, though she didn't understand why the winged woman was apologizing. "Neither of you deserved that from me and I swear I'll do my best to handle my issues before I make them your problem."
"Why're you apologizing?" Ygdis asked, mystified, "I was a mess after my first fight, took me a long while to set myself right. One night's sleep isn't enough for anyone, I don't care how strange you are."
"Aye," Grenwin said from beside her, "We know how it is. I'm glad you chose words, Ygdis here pulled a knife on me after her first."
"Said I was sorry, didn't I?" Ygdis muttered at the Ice Wife, receiving a smirk in return.
Maia looked up at them, mouth slightly open in confusion, then straightened. "Thank you for your understanding, then. What are you two up to?"
"Sparring," Ygdis told her, "Whatever you did to Gren made her stronger, I think."
Grenwin shrugged, "Maia's healed wounds I've had since I was a girl." She rubbed at her right arm with a thoughtful cast to her features, "Thank you again, Maia. I quite like how this feels."
"You're welcome," Maia replied, her cheeks rising in a smile. "Would it be alright if I watched you two spar? I've put together this shamisen," she moved to spin the odd lute around to her front, showing it off proudly, "And I thought I might try playing around with it."
"I've no problem with that," Grenwin said, peering closely at the tiny vines worked into the dark wood of the neck.
Ygdis nodded in agreement, "Nor I."
Maia beamed at them, nodding back, "I'll just go sit over there, then." She moved away, the hems of her ankle-length skirts clearing the snow with space to spare and settled on an old ironwood log near a crumbling shack. She pulled a strange object from her pocket, something like a wooden ice scraper with a wide flat edge and a body that narrowed to a handle, as she settled the so-called shamisen on her lap and plucked at the strings with the tool.
The air resonated with vibrant notes as Maia turned the knobs, face focused. Soon, the notes came quicker, a quick melody emerging.
"Sounds pretty," Ygdis told Grenwin, shifting to look at the Ice Wife. To her surprise, Grenwin watched Maia with glittering eyes, interest clear on her face. The way she looked at Maia was much the way Ygdis had once looked at the Ice Wife, back after the towering woman had joined them. That infatuation had grown to genuine affection as Ygdis had come to know her and earn her friendship.
Gren likes her, Ygdis realized. At least, she's interested in the strange woman. Good for her.
"Aye," the Ice Wife said absentmindedly, "She is."
A snicker rose from Ygdis's throat and prompted Gren to scowl at her.
"What?"
"I meant the music," Ygdis teased, "I s'pose she's pretty, too."
Grenwin's cheeks colored as she blinked in realization. She frowned, reaching out to tap Ygdis on the shoulder, "Come on, let's fight."
With that, the tall woman turned and stepped back toward the center of the small clearing. Ygdis followed after a moment, pleased she finally found something to tweak the Ice Wife with after these few years.
Squaring off against Grenwin, Ygdis loosened her muscles, dropping into an aggressive stance, the wood of her practice spear firm under her gloved fingers. Fighting defensively hadn't worked; this time, she'd push hard and try to overcome the other warrior's defense.
Maia's music slowed, notes reverberating brightly through the air.
The moment Gren nodded to her, Ygdis charged. She savored the way the other woman's green eyes momentarily widened in surprise as Ygdis's feet pounded through the snow. She yelled, spear raised to strike.
Grenwin's spear cracked against hers, knocking the head to the side. Ygdis swung the butt around, hitting nothing as the large woman backstepped deceptively quickly. A pair of jabs came at her midsection, warded off by Ygdis's swift defense.
Crack-crack
The music faltered for a moment before returning in force, the pace quickening. Listening to it, Ygdis found a matching rhythm to her strikes. The sound of wood cracking against wood echoed in time to the vibrant notes.
Grenwin was grinning madly at her, eyes alight with a pure joy that mirrored that rising within Ygdis. She swept her spear low at Ygdis's legs, forcing her to move back a pace, then rose tall and held her weapon high before plunging it at Ygdis.
An impulse had Ygdis raise her foot and stamp down on the haft, wood hard against her sole through the soft boot, sending a shock up her leg as the dull head dug into the snow and frozen earth beneath; Grenwin heaved upward and Ygdis stumbled, thrown off balance, then the Ice Wife's spear came sweeping through the air. Ygdis spun away, the wooden haft smashing into her wounded shoulder and tossing her to the snow once more.
Grenwin harried her as Ygdis tried to recover, poking at her with casual ease. Ygdis fended them off, grasping her spear in one hand while scrambling back, a desperate swing taking the towering woman in the side and forcing a moment of hesitation, time Ygdis used to stand again.
The music flowed around them, a subtle beat joining the bright strings as Maia thumped her palm against the drum of her lute. She sang quick high calls, her voice adding a feeling of haste.
She felt powerful, limbs strong and swift as she sought to overcome the Ice Wife. She could do it, she'd done it before. Grenwin was never this tough, though, and she seemed just as bolstered by the song. Ygdis found herself pushed to her limit, striving to surpass, the fight evolving into something more than a mere spar.
Ygdis didn't want to harm Grenwin, no more than Grenwin was willing to hurt her, but more and more Ygdis wanted to keep pushing the Ice Wife to new heights to struggle against. Pain brought mutual growth; Ygdis could see in Grenwin's green eyes that she felt the same drive, the same desire to improve. At that moment, Ygdis felt she understood Grenwin on a deep level she'd never grasped before, and she saw the same understanding blooming on the Ice Wife's features. Together, they could grow without limit, enduring and inflicting mutual pain to spur them both to rise to greater and greater heights.
Time began to lose meaning as they fought. Ygdis pushed hard on the offense and fell back on the defense as the flow of battle shifted between them, her mind clearing, action and reaction coming swifter than thought. Minutes or hours might have passed before Grenwin and she slowed, fatigue weighing their limbs. In the end, Ygdis stumbled, one shaking knee giving way under her. Grenwin caught her before she fell to the snow, both red-faced and dripping sweat.
They clung together for a long moment, kneeling on the cold earth as they caught their breath. Maia's song slowed and there came a graceful flourish of notes before ending.
"That was incredible!" Maia exclaimed as she came bounding towards them. "I've never seen anything like that before!"
Turning her head, Ygdis saw the small woman's eyes were wide with awe. A prideful flame flared in her breast, fanned and fed by the earnest appreciation Maia showed. Behind Maia, Ygdis noted her strange lute resting on the log.
"T'was a good fight," Grenwin's voice was light with breathlessness.
Ygdis found herself struggling to speak as she added, "That was the best fight!"
"The best," Grenwin echoed, standing and pulling Ygdis to her feet with her.
Exhaustion weighed Ygdis down and she set her legs, refusing to fall again. Her body ached pleasantly, muscles strained to their limit now relaxing. She breathed deep of the crisp, clean air, leaning against Grenwin's shoulder. The Ice Wife felt as solid as ever and Ygdis could hardly believe she'd nearly died, did die by her telling, the day before.
"I can help you recover," Maia offered, glancing between them.
Grenwin nodded and, after a moment, Ygdis joined her. Maia wrapped her arms around both of them and Ygdis felt the aching fatigue draining away, leaving her feeling strong once more. Odd magic or no, Ygdis was grateful for it as she was able to stand tall.
"You've my thanks, Maia," Ygdis told her, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "You, ah, you can let go now."
"Aye, many thanks," Grenwin murmured, reaching down and tousling Maia's fine black hair.
Maia let them free, taking a couple of steps back, wide mismatched eyes flicking between them. "I'll do that for you whenever you need," she said, and it sounded an oath to Ygdis's ears. Then, she asked with desire, "Will you teach me to fight like that?"
"If I can, I will," Grenwin swore warmly.
Ygdis recalled the emptiness in Maia's eyes as she stood over her, flaming sword in hand. She nodded, resolving to do what she could to keep that from happening again. If Maia was to fight with them, she needed a clear head and the skill to put it to use; wild brute force might have worked against the slavers, but they had been aiming to capture, not kill as others might.
"So long as you are willing to learn, I'll help," Ygdis stated, meeting Maia's eyes.
A wide excited grin pulled her lips up and Ygdis had to refrain from patting her on the head. She'd never met anyone so earnest as Maia could be at times; Ygdis never felt she had to measure up to anything when it came to her and found she enjoyed the simple appreciation Maia showed for the smallest things. That was an attitude that would serve her well, Ygdis reckoned.
"If you mean to learn," Grenwin said with a smile, "Go get your practice spear."
"Right now?" Maia asked eagerly, then nodded without waiting for an answer and darted away up the heart tree path with a hasty, "I'll be right back!"
"She's eager," Ygdis observed.
"Aye, she is at that." Grenwin clapped her on the shoulder, drawing Ygdis's eyes. "What happened there, Yg?"
"We fought well, did we not?"
Nodding slowly, Grenwin wore a thoughtful look, lowering her green eyes to study her hide-gloved hand. "We did. I've not felt that way before. It was strange, as though the struggle itself was taking a life o' its own. Is this how fighting while whole feels?"
"I've not felt that before either, Gren. Mayhaps Maia's music is to thank?"
Genwin's eyes flicked back up to meet hers, her lips drawing to a thin line. "I've always thought battle-song was a thing o' stories, tales for the young, nothing more."
"Oh?" Ygdis found herself interested; Grenwin rarely spoke of her past and Ygdis hadn't been sure she'd know those stories.
"Aye. You seem you have something to say. Go on, speak," Grenwin prompted.
"My mother used to say that songs had a power to them," Ygdis reached a hand up to her neck, fishing at the cord there and taking out her mother's obsidian before clutching it. "That the right song sung by the right person can shatter mountains and raise oceans. She said we sang to keep hope during the long dark and that our song returned the sun to us. And, if we ever had the need, we should sing our desperation to wake the sleepers."
Grenwin seemed unconvinced. "Your mother sounds an interesting woman from everything the others say o' her. I'd have liked to meet her. Is this why we sing together in the evening?"
Ygdis nodded, "Aye, it is. She started that, you know. I'm glad we've kept to it."
"So long as we sing, she still lives, in a way," Grenwin murmured. She turned her gaze up to the heart tree's waving canopy, "I wonder…"
Whatever she was about to say was lost as Maia came running back towards them, long spear in hand. "I'm back!" She called as she approached, skidding to a stop in the snow and very nearly toppling from her haste.
Ygdis snickered at her enthusiasm.
"Remember what we were working on the other day?" Grenwin moved closer to the winged woman, who nodded up at her.
"Yes, how to stand and how to move the spear, right?"
"Aye. Now go on, get into the stance." Green eyes judged Maia's posture and she reached out to adjust the shorter woman's positioning, withdrawing once satisfied. "There you are."
Ygdis watched in bemusement as Grenwin walked her through exercises fit for the smallest children. It soon became clear, however, that Maia needed the foundational work. Watching her, it seemed she'd hardly held a spear in her life. Contrary to Ygdis's expectation, she moved easily enough in that strange dress; it didn't appear to hinder her at all. She had said she could make clothing this morning and Ygdis wondered if that pale cloth was somehow enchanted like her wooden tools were. The longer she observed, the more sure Ygdis was that it was, though she couldn't point to anything specific.
Ygdis tossed in her own insight where she felt Grenwin's fell short. Maia listened and before long Ygdis was being peppered with as many questions as Grenwin was. Ygdis wondered how any one person could have this many questions, a constant stream coming from the winged woman that she felt hard-pressed to answer.
They spent the afternoon working together, the sun steadily falling below the heart tree's canopy, stretching the shadows long and casting the red leaves in a blazing light. Ygdis found herself enjoying the practice, demonstrating the proper movements at Grenwin's behest and sharing the many little tricks she'd figured out.
As Maia worked, Ygdis and Grenwin continued their sparring. They were unable to repeat the earlier experience, to bring back the sensation of growth through rising to a mutual challenge, but it left Ygdis feeling satisfied regardless. Between bouts, Maia would refresh them, giving them the means to continue.
The sun hung low over the tops of tall soldier pines when the evening meal was called, Teagj's loud bellows echoing out over First Fork. Grenwin called an end to the day's training, eyes tired with a fatigue Maia's restoration couldn't touch. Ygdis felt much the same and was already imagining the comfort of her bed.
The three of them gathered their things and made their way over to the cookfire, following the scent of hot stew. They found the rest of First Fork already gathered under the gaze of the heart tree, the chatter of conversation washing over Ygdis in a wave of sound as they approached. The ground about the fire had been swept clear of snow and a pair of new wooden benches dragged over to join those ancient ones arranged around.
Gudrid stood close to the fire, holding a long spoon and stirring a bubbling cookpot sitting on the edge of the high flames, fragrant steam rising from the great iron vessel. Hild stood nearby with a pair of baskets at her feet, withdrawing new-made wooden bowls from one and spoons from the other, handing them to Gudrid, who ladled generous portions of steaming stew into each before passing them to Old Luta. The knife-thin woman passed them about the others sitting about the fire.
Herrick sat close to Wyck and Inella, gesturing with his bowl as he told one of his wild tales to the couple, listening close as they ate. Sigrid was trying to demonstrate a trick to Misa, flipping a shiny bit of round metal through her fingers and fumbling every so often; she passed it to Misa, who had little more success. Jorni and Lorni had returned from Antler Point, the former reclining on the bare earth with Teagj and Dagmoor, the latter lounging by Frerthe, who turned to stare daggers at Maia. Hoark and Wynt sat on the outskirts playing a game of rocks, tossing pebbles into small circles drawn in the dirt. Symon sat alone, spooning stew into his mouth with satisfaction.
Luta offered Grenwin a bowl, scowling at Ygdis and sniffing with derision towards Maia. Likewise, Hild and Gudrid took bowls for themselves and Luta before the three moved to sit with Frerthe and Lorni. Ygdis scowled right back at her, then was startled as Maia moved over to the fire. She either didn't notice the five watching her warily or didn't care as she took a pair of bowls from the basket, balancing one on her arm and holding the other with her palm. Ladling stew into both, she grabbed a pair of spoons with a graceful dip before coming back to offer one to Ygdis.
"Oh, my thanks," Ygdis said with gratitude as she took a steaming bowl. She'd not expected the winged woman to do that; from the way Maia walked and stood, it almost seemed she expected others to do that kind of work for her. She was glad for it, though.
"You're welcome," Maia beamed a smile at her.
Grenwin pulled them to sit across the fire from Frerthe and the others, settling down between Sigrid and Herrick. She said little as she ate, and after the first spoon of stew, Ygdis understood why.
She was ravenous, almost burning her mouth in her haste to wolf the food down. After she finished her first bowl, she stood and ladled herself another portion, Grenwin doing the same after a moment.
In comparison, Maia hardly seemed to touch her meal. By the time Grenwin and she were halfway finished with their second bowls, Maia had set hers aside, pulling her odd lute into her lap and stroking the skin stretched across the front. A thoughtful look came across her face as she peered into the fire, then she nodded. Shooting Ygdis and Grenwin a small smile, Maia rose and hopped up onto a bench, sitting on the back of it and fishing out the small tool she'd used earlier.
Plucking a quick chord, Maia garnered the attention of the group. "I know I've not sung at these meals yet," she said clearly over the chatter, "But I'd like to thank you all for allowing me to stay." Mismatched eyes looked out over them, and when they met Ygdis's and Grenwin's, Maia's lips twitched up in a smile. She lingered while looking across the fire at Frerthe and the others with her. "I'd like to play something if that's alright."
"Go on!" Herrick called without hesitation, "Sing!"
Wyck joined his call, then Inella and Misa, and soon a chant had begun, urging the newcomer to sing for them. Ygdis didn't hear Frerthe's voice in that chant, nor Luta's or Gudrid's or Lorni's; Hild, though, seemed just as taken in as the rest.
Maia preened under the attention, though, beaming a bright smile at them. Resonant notes rose as she began a slow melody, swaying slightly as she opened her mouth and sang.
"If all the stars just
won't shine for you,
if every moon turns its back on you too.
If you've been wondering
how to make it all through,
I will be there to light
up the infinite dark."
Her voice lilted through the air, words clear despite the softness of her tone. Her fingers moved with grace along the lute's neck, the paddle in her other hand strumming a haunting tune as the heel of her palm drummed a beat.
Ygdis felt herself being taken up in the song, unable to look away. Beside her, she felt as much as saw Grenwin leaning forward and watching Maia. On her other side, Sigrid hummed to the melody, soon joined by Misa's quieter voice.
"Let me be your flame.
Don't you be afraid.
I would never ever lead you astray.
Though there may come a day
when my fire fades,
may it carry on burning bright
in every grieving heart."
The words Maia sang were sad and resigned to Ygdis's ears, despite the hopeful tune she played. Her mother had sung like this, memories Ygdis thought forgotten rising clearly. Her eyes grew damp with the warmth blossoming in her chest.
"If the roads all greet
you with freezing rains,
if your so-called
comrades all do the same.
Just check your pulse and
you'll feel my flames,
like I'm right there to warm
you in the infinite cold."
It was both an offer and promise, Ygdis realized. A tear fell from her eye as the depth of Maia's appreciation came through. She wanted to join them, to be with and stand alongside them through the coldest winter. Ygdis's gratitude towards the others who had decided to take her in grew tenfold, and pride in herself for choosing to stand for Maia.
"Let me be your flame.
Don't you be afraid.
I would never ever lead you astray.
Though there may come a day
when my fire fades,
may it carry on burning bright."
Frerthe was a fool if she couldn't hear the oath in Maia's words. Strange as the woman was, she meant them no harm; why couldn't they see that as Ygdis did? She heard Grenwin sniffle beside her as another tear joined the first on Ygdis's cheek. They ought to be fine with keeping Maia for her singing if nothing else.
"In every grieving heart!
In every grieving heart.
May it burn!
Burn so bright!"
Maia's singing trailed off as her fingers slowed, the song coming to an end with a little flourish. Through watery eyes, Ygdis saw Maia wipe her own, then bow deeply at the waist to them. "Thank you for your patience," She said with a quiet voice that rang in the silence.
"What are you? What do you want with us?!" Lorni's demanding question rose from the other side of the fire and the man soon appeared, holding himself threateningly as he walked up to Maia.
Ygdis opened her mouth to shout the man down, but Grenwin's hand falling on her wrist gave her pause. Turning, she saw the Ice Wife's eyes were red-rimmed and she mouthed, "Wait and see." Ygdis nodded to her, watching the confrontation.
Maia seemed genuinely surprised by Lorni's questioning. "I'm lonely, I think. I'd like to be your neighbor, help out around First Fork." Her brows furrowed, "But, that's not what you're asking, is it?"
"Oh, you think yourself clever, do you?" Lorni scoffed at her, condescension dripping from his voice.
"I'm sorry, I think that's a bad habit of mine." Maia offered the man, blue-green eyes flicking to where Frerthe and the rest sat. "I think I'm… Mostly human, with some extras, if that's what you wanted to know. I've been struggling with that, you know." Her tone was as sincere as her words, in Ygdis's opinion, and they seemed to give Lorni pause. Maia continued after meeting his eyes a moment and nodding, "I've told this to a few people now, but I think it would be good to get it out into the open. I want to put my abilities to use to help the free folk stand on their own, get everyone below the Wall to put it between us and the Others. If you're willing to listen, I'd like to teach the things I know, things the people below the Wall could scarcely believe." Lifting a hand, she leaned forward and took Lorni's shoulder, meeting his eyes firmly, "Tell me what it would take to convince you, all of you, that I mean you no harm and that I will keep to my word."
Ygdis couldn't see Lorni's face, but she saw him set his posture stubbornly. A hand went to his belt knife, unsheathing the length of copper that gleamed in the firelight. He gestured with it at the heart tree's watching face.
"Swear it, then. Swear on your blood, under the eyes of the gods. Let them judge you true or false." He held the knife out to Maia, who glanced at it for a bare moment before taking it.
It was rare for such a serious oath to be demanded, Ygdis knew. In this circumstance, however, it might be the only thing that would convince the others. The gods would tell a false oath from true, and involving blood only made it all the more serious.
The breeze stilled then as Maia stood on the bench, raising her hands for all to see, knife clutched in one. The world seemed to hold its breath. Ygdis caught the barest moment of hesitation before she slashed her palm and pale crimson flowed down her wrist, staining the white sleeve of her dress red.
"I swear," Maia declared firmly, "On my blood, under the eyes of the gods, I swear I'll never use my talents to harm you. No matter how terrifying I might become, I will hold to that. I might make mistakes, I might cause accidents, but I will never intentionally hurt any of you. Even if you come together and decide I must go, you need not fear retribution. I will leave in peace and goodwill, should that day come."
None made a sound, the crackling of the fire and the soft drip-drip of Maia's blood splashing to the bench clear to Ygdis's ears. The sun dipped below the trees, casting them in shadow as a quiet hoot sounded from above. A small snowy owl sat among the heart-tree's branches, peering down at them all. A wind gusted over them with sudden force, whipping Ygdis's hair back and sending Maia's streaming ahead of her face. The leaves above them tossed with quiet rustling, the little owl flying down to perch lightly on Maia's shoulder. She didn't seem to realize as she brushed her hair out of her face.
The omen was clear to Ygdis and she was sure it was just as clear to the others. The gods accepted the oath. That owl, though, seemed familiar. With a start, Ygdis realized that was Ellir's bird. Of course the skinchanger would be curious, if Jorni and Lorni had spoken to her; Ellir had always had an interest in First Fork despite the distance she kept. It seemed she approved of Maia's promise as well.
Lorni's voice was tight as he spoke, "The gods accept your oath, then." His neck was stiff as he nodded; Maia offered him the knife and he took it, sheathing it before woodenly moving away.
Maia's gaze fell on the other side of the fire and she asked, "Do any of you still have doubts?"
"Nay," Hild called loudly, shortly joined by Luta and Gudrid. Frerthe was the last, and her voice was just as strained as Lorni's.
Maia's smile returned and she beamed at them. "Well, then, we can get along without all the suspicion, right?" The owl hooted on her shoulder and she turned her head to look, blinking in surprise as the bird met her eyes. "Oh, uh, hello. I didn't think my song was that good," a nervous chuckle came as she carefully stepped down off the bench and moved to sit back with Ygdis and Grenwin.
Chatter rose again in faltering starts. Misa shifted to give Maia a quick hug, whispering something in her ear that made the winged woman blink before pulling away again. Sigrid clapped her on the shoulder, "I liked that song. Can ye teach it to me?"
Maia nodded to her, eyes bright. "Sure. Later, though."
"Aye," Sigrid replied, settling back to give some distance.
"That was a pretty song," Grenwin told Maia with appreciation, though her eyes were locked on the owl. "Hello, Ellir. As you can see, we're all still alive. Maia's to thank for that."
The owl hooted softly, bobbing its head in a nod.
"Ah, isn't this just an owl?" Maia asked, tilting her head away from the bird with a look of discomfort.
"No," Ygdis said, reaching out to give the owl a light scratch atop his soft head. He preened at the attention. "Ellir's a skinchanger, and this'un was a chick what hatched strange. He has no mind o' his own, the way she tells it."
"…Skinchanger?" Maia asked lowly, concerned and mismatched eyes locked on the bird.
"Those who can enter the minds o' animals and control them," Grenwin explained. "Many Ice Wives are skinchangers, though the talent is not needed to claim a Bear. I am one, as is my sister, my mother, her mother before her, and so on as long as we can remember."
Maia's discomfort seemed to grow, bloodied hand grabbing at her other sleeve and smearing red on the fabric as she rolled it between her fingers. "Gren, is there a difference between an animal and a human?"
Ygdis saw the Ice Wife stumped for words, perhaps for the first time she could remember. She spoke up for her, "It is an abomination for a skinchanger to take a man. That is a grave crime among us, graver than even murder. After all, you can only kill someone once."
"But… Is it possible, then?" Maia asked with horror, "It's possible for something to get into your mind and… Control you? Injure you, at least?"
"Only the strongest skinchangers are capable o' such a feat," Grenwin spoke firmly, reaching out and taking Maia's hands, heedless of the drying blood. "Do not worry over this. You are strong-willed enough that you would recognize any attempt."
"How do you know that?" Maia's voice was pitched to a whisper, eyes wide and fearful.
"I have a sense for it. My talent was always to know the limits o' my ability and the strength o' those near me. I cannot explain how I know, I simply do." Grenwin shrugged, then added, "I promise you, Maia, so long as you stay strong and resist, your mind will be your own."
Maia's expression fell and she looked at the bare earth between them, shame writ across her features. Her voice was nearly too low for Ygdis to make out as she said, "When the sword… When I… I heard her in my mind, speaking to me, urging me to accept her. She claimed we were already partially bonded. I…" Squeezing her eyes shut, Maia shuddered, her hands gripping Grenwin's and her knuckles turning white. "I broke, inside. I let her in and I could feel her at the edge of my thoughts. I still feel her. She guided me through the battle, but…"
Ygdis remembered the morning, the way Maia had snapped at her that her sword thought. Could there be a woman in there, thinking inside that strange metal? It sounded mad, yet it might be a thing of skinchanging. If it was, could her hold over Maia be broken, somehow?
Grenwin's mouth was set in a thin line, brows furrowed over green eyes. "Maia…" Words seemed to fail her and she pulled the short woman into an embrace, the owl hopping off to settle on Ygdis's shoulder. "You can heal from this," Grenwin murmured with conviction.
Ygdis had never heard a story where one taken by a skinchanger had become whole again after being broken. Most oft, those tales ended in a bloody end for skinchanger and victim alike, or with the broken hurling themselves from the tops of tall trees or cliffs or stripping themselves before wandering out into the cold to die.
She stroked Ellir's owl as she thought, feathers soft under her fingertips. "Yea," Ygdis said after a moment, "If anyone can heal, you can. You'd be the first, though."
Grenwin shot a glare at her and Ygdis reeled back.
"Try not to sound so confident," Maia told Ygdis with forced humor, meeting her eyes from where she was held against Grenwin.
They fell quiet after that, the other two seemingly as lost in their thoughts as Ygdis felt. Soon enough darkness fell and Ygdis cajoled Maia into helping with the cleaning. Grenwin stuck around to help as well, though the others drifted away. After, they returned to Grenwin's home and bedded down for the night.
After the length of the day, sleep took Ygdis in moments.
The corner of Grenwin's mouth twitched up, Ygdis's only warning before the towering woman charged. Two quick paces ate the distance between them.
Clack-clackclack-clack
The crack of wood-on-wood sounded as Ygdis fended off the sudden assault. She felt a wild grin on her face as Grenwin's spear came within a hair's breadth of striking her shoulder while she hopped backward. This was different, in the best way. It was as though Grenwin was a different fighter altogether, her old weaknesses seemingly gone. She no longer favored her right side and the she-bear's endurance had grown overnight. Ygdis found herself hard-pressed to maintain her defense as she sought for an opening.
Clackclack-clack-clack-thump
Pain bloomed at Ygdis's right shoulder as the haft of Grenwin's spear slammed into it; the attack left the Ice Wife open and Ygdis struck at her knee. Grenwin winced, rhythm disrupted, and Ygdis stepped closer to press the attack. She realized her mistake a moment too late as Grenwin lunged, then Ygdis was hoisted into the air and tossed in a single motion. She tumbled to the snow, a cry of surprise leaving her lips.
Disoriented, she sat, propping herself up with her arms as Grenwin approached. The other woman rested her spear against her shoulder and grinned down at her.
"That's new, that is," Ygdis said in good humor, shaking off the surprise. "Thought this was a spar?"
Grenwin offered her a hand and Ygdis took it, letting the Ice Wife haul her to her feet. "You mean to fight Teagj. He's bound to have a few surprises of his own." Grenwin's smile faltered and her brows drew down, "I aim to prepare you as best I can, Ygdis. I told you, I don't want to burn your body."
Ygdis met her eyes, "He wouldn't kill me."
Grenwin grimaced, "I'm not so sure o' that. You Antler-folk might not want to bleed each other, strange as it is to me, but I've known men like him. Expect him to try."
Pursing her lips, Ygdis considered Grenwin's wisdom. As far as she knew, Teagj only held power because her mother chose him to succeed her; Ygdis had been the first to challenge him since. Doubt flickered in her breast as she wondered at the reasons that might be. She'd assumed the others refrained out of respect for her mother's decision, but he was quite fearsome in battle… Finally, she nodded to Grenwin.
"Aye, I understand, I think. Again?"
Grenwin studied her for a long moment before the tension around her eyes eased and she sighed with relief, "I see you do. Again."
Ygdis scooped up her practice spear, taking a few paces away from the Ice Wife before turning and dropping into a ready stance. She saw Grenwin peering past her and Ygdis turned to look just as a call reached her ears.
"Hey, you two!"
Maia came striding through the snow towards them along the path to the heart tree, wearing a peculiar pale dress that hugged her figure closely and waving her hand at them. Ygdis blinked, her eyes sharp enough to make out the copper vines with silver leaves twining up Maia's arms and sides, elaborate silver and gold at her neck, and along the hems of her sleeves and skirts. It seemed as though she'd somehow drawn metal into thread. Nobody else, Ygdis thought with bemusement, would wear something so clearly lacking in warmth in these lands. A leather strap crossed her front and the long neck of a wooden instrument stuck out over her shoulder, three wooden pegs sticking out of the head.
Grenwin called past Ygdis, "How're you feeling?"
"Better, now," Maia said as she approached, strange eyes turning toward Ygdis. There was a tension at their corners, Ygdis saw, and her mouth was set in a firm line. The short woman's feet were clad in boots in a style Ygdis had never seen before, leather hugging her ankles and shins close, tied across the front with crossed cord. She walked right up to Ygdis, stopping a pace away and looking up at her.
Ygdis wasn't sure what to say, not after the outburst earlier. She met Maia's mismatched eyes, gladdened to see they were no longer empty and hollow. It seemed that a little spark had returned to them. It had scared her, more after Gren had explained Maia's affliction and the quiet madness she'd seen. Ygdis had heard enough stories of the harm the mad can bring and found herself desiring to help the stranger; she'd rather have the kind, if odd, Builder over a madwoman with a terrible blade.
Snow crunched behind Ygdis as Grenwin moved to stand next to her. Maia's gaze shifted between the two of them as she wrung her fingers together, then bent low at the shoulders. The instrument on her back was a three-stringed lute of an unfamiliar style, the neck extremely long and slim for the relatively small drum.
"I apologize for my tantrum earlier." Maia's melodic voice sounded sincere to Ygdis's ears, though she didn't understand why the winged woman was apologizing. "Neither of you deserved that from me and I swear I'll do my best to handle my issues before I make them your problem."
"Why're you apologizing?" Ygdis asked, mystified, "I was a mess after my first fight, took me a long while to set myself right. One night's sleep isn't enough for anyone, I don't care how strange you are."
"Aye," Grenwin said from beside her, "We know how it is. I'm glad you chose words, Ygdis here pulled a knife on me after her first."
"Said I was sorry, didn't I?" Ygdis muttered at the Ice Wife, receiving a smirk in return.
Maia looked up at them, mouth slightly open in confusion, then straightened. "Thank you for your understanding, then. What are you two up to?"
"Sparring," Ygdis told her, "Whatever you did to Gren made her stronger, I think."
Grenwin shrugged, "Maia's healed wounds I've had since I was a girl." She rubbed at her right arm with a thoughtful cast to her features, "Thank you again, Maia. I quite like how this feels."
"You're welcome," Maia replied, her cheeks rising in a smile. "Would it be alright if I watched you two spar? I've put together this shamisen," she moved to spin the odd lute around to her front, showing it off proudly, "And I thought I might try playing around with it."
"I've no problem with that," Grenwin said, peering closely at the tiny vines worked into the dark wood of the neck.
Ygdis nodded in agreement, "Nor I."
Maia beamed at them, nodding back, "I'll just go sit over there, then." She moved away, the hems of her ankle-length skirts clearing the snow with space to spare and settled on an old ironwood log near a crumbling shack. She pulled a strange object from her pocket, something like a wooden ice scraper with a wide flat edge and a body that narrowed to a handle, as she settled the so-called shamisen on her lap and plucked at the strings with the tool.
The air resonated with vibrant notes as Maia turned the knobs, face focused. Soon, the notes came quicker, a quick melody emerging.
"Sounds pretty," Ygdis told Grenwin, shifting to look at the Ice Wife. To her surprise, Grenwin watched Maia with glittering eyes, interest clear on her face. The way she looked at Maia was much the way Ygdis had once looked at the Ice Wife, back after the towering woman had joined them. That infatuation had grown to genuine affection as Ygdis had come to know her and earn her friendship.
Gren likes her, Ygdis realized. At least, she's interested in the strange woman. Good for her.
"Aye," the Ice Wife said absentmindedly, "She is."
A snicker rose from Ygdis's throat and prompted Gren to scowl at her.
"What?"
"I meant the music," Ygdis teased, "I s'pose she's pretty, too."
Grenwin's cheeks colored as she blinked in realization. She frowned, reaching out to tap Ygdis on the shoulder, "Come on, let's fight."
With that, the tall woman turned and stepped back toward the center of the small clearing. Ygdis followed after a moment, pleased she finally found something to tweak the Ice Wife with after these few years.
Squaring off against Grenwin, Ygdis loosened her muscles, dropping into an aggressive stance, the wood of her practice spear firm under her gloved fingers. Fighting defensively hadn't worked; this time, she'd push hard and try to overcome the other warrior's defense.
Maia's music slowed, notes reverberating brightly through the air.
The moment Gren nodded to her, Ygdis charged. She savored the way the other woman's green eyes momentarily widened in surprise as Ygdis's feet pounded through the snow. She yelled, spear raised to strike.
Grenwin's spear cracked against hers, knocking the head to the side. Ygdis swung the butt around, hitting nothing as the large woman backstepped deceptively quickly. A pair of jabs came at her midsection, warded off by Ygdis's swift defense.
Crack-crack
The music faltered for a moment before returning in force, the pace quickening. Listening to it, Ygdis found a matching rhythm to her strikes. The sound of wood cracking against wood echoed in time to the vibrant notes.
Grenwin was grinning madly at her, eyes alight with a pure joy that mirrored that rising within Ygdis. She swept her spear low at Ygdis's legs, forcing her to move back a pace, then rose tall and held her weapon high before plunging it at Ygdis.
An impulse had Ygdis raise her foot and stamp down on the haft, wood hard against her sole through the soft boot, sending a shock up her leg as the dull head dug into the snow and frozen earth beneath; Grenwin heaved upward and Ygdis stumbled, thrown off balance, then the Ice Wife's spear came sweeping through the air. Ygdis spun away, the wooden haft smashing into her wounded shoulder and tossing her to the snow once more.
Grenwin harried her as Ygdis tried to recover, poking at her with casual ease. Ygdis fended them off, grasping her spear in one hand while scrambling back, a desperate swing taking the towering woman in the side and forcing a moment of hesitation, time Ygdis used to stand again.
The music flowed around them, a subtle beat joining the bright strings as Maia thumped her palm against the drum of her lute. She sang quick high calls, her voice adding a feeling of haste.
She felt powerful, limbs strong and swift as she sought to overcome the Ice Wife. She could do it, she'd done it before. Grenwin was never this tough, though, and she seemed just as bolstered by the song. Ygdis found herself pushed to her limit, striving to surpass, the fight evolving into something more than a mere spar.
Ygdis didn't want to harm Grenwin, no more than Grenwin was willing to hurt her, but more and more Ygdis wanted to keep pushing the Ice Wife to new heights to struggle against. Pain brought mutual growth; Ygdis could see in Grenwin's green eyes that she felt the same drive, the same desire to improve. At that moment, Ygdis felt she understood Grenwin on a deep level she'd never grasped before, and she saw the same understanding blooming on the Ice Wife's features. Together, they could grow without limit, enduring and inflicting mutual pain to spur them both to rise to greater and greater heights.
Time began to lose meaning as they fought. Ygdis pushed hard on the offense and fell back on the defense as the flow of battle shifted between them, her mind clearing, action and reaction coming swifter than thought. Minutes or hours might have passed before Grenwin and she slowed, fatigue weighing their limbs. In the end, Ygdis stumbled, one shaking knee giving way under her. Grenwin caught her before she fell to the snow, both red-faced and dripping sweat.
They clung together for a long moment, kneeling on the cold earth as they caught their breath. Maia's song slowed and there came a graceful flourish of notes before ending.
"That was incredible!" Maia exclaimed as she came bounding towards them. "I've never seen anything like that before!"
Turning her head, Ygdis saw the small woman's eyes were wide with awe. A prideful flame flared in her breast, fanned and fed by the earnest appreciation Maia showed. Behind Maia, Ygdis noted her strange lute resting on the log.
"T'was a good fight," Grenwin's voice was light with breathlessness.
Ygdis found herself struggling to speak as she added, "That was the best fight!"
"The best," Grenwin echoed, standing and pulling Ygdis to her feet with her.
Exhaustion weighed Ygdis down and she set her legs, refusing to fall again. Her body ached pleasantly, muscles strained to their limit now relaxing. She breathed deep of the crisp, clean air, leaning against Grenwin's shoulder. The Ice Wife felt as solid as ever and Ygdis could hardly believe she'd nearly died, did die by her telling, the day before.
"I can help you recover," Maia offered, glancing between them.
Grenwin nodded and, after a moment, Ygdis joined her. Maia wrapped her arms around both of them and Ygdis felt the aching fatigue draining away, leaving her feeling strong once more. Odd magic or no, Ygdis was grateful for it as she was able to stand tall.
"You've my thanks, Maia," Ygdis told her, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "You, ah, you can let go now."
"Aye, many thanks," Grenwin murmured, reaching down and tousling Maia's fine black hair.
Maia let them free, taking a couple of steps back, wide mismatched eyes flicking between them. "I'll do that for you whenever you need," she said, and it sounded an oath to Ygdis's ears. Then, she asked with desire, "Will you teach me to fight like that?"
"If I can, I will," Grenwin swore warmly.
Ygdis recalled the emptiness in Maia's eyes as she stood over her, flaming sword in hand. She nodded, resolving to do what she could to keep that from happening again. If Maia was to fight with them, she needed a clear head and the skill to put it to use; wild brute force might have worked against the slavers, but they had been aiming to capture, not kill as others might.
"So long as you are willing to learn, I'll help," Ygdis stated, meeting Maia's eyes.
A wide excited grin pulled her lips up and Ygdis had to refrain from patting her on the head. She'd never met anyone so earnest as Maia could be at times; Ygdis never felt she had to measure up to anything when it came to her and found she enjoyed the simple appreciation Maia showed for the smallest things. That was an attitude that would serve her well, Ygdis reckoned.
"If you mean to learn," Grenwin said with a smile, "Go get your practice spear."
"Right now?" Maia asked eagerly, then nodded without waiting for an answer and darted away up the heart tree path with a hasty, "I'll be right back!"
"She's eager," Ygdis observed.
"Aye, she is at that." Grenwin clapped her on the shoulder, drawing Ygdis's eyes. "What happened there, Yg?"
"We fought well, did we not?"
Nodding slowly, Grenwin wore a thoughtful look, lowering her green eyes to study her hide-gloved hand. "We did. I've not felt that way before. It was strange, as though the struggle itself was taking a life o' its own. Is this how fighting while whole feels?"
"I've not felt that before either, Gren. Mayhaps Maia's music is to thank?"
Genwin's eyes flicked back up to meet hers, her lips drawing to a thin line. "I've always thought battle-song was a thing o' stories, tales for the young, nothing more."
"Oh?" Ygdis found herself interested; Grenwin rarely spoke of her past and Ygdis hadn't been sure she'd know those stories.
"Aye. You seem you have something to say. Go on, speak," Grenwin prompted.
"My mother used to say that songs had a power to them," Ygdis reached a hand up to her neck, fishing at the cord there and taking out her mother's obsidian before clutching it. "That the right song sung by the right person can shatter mountains and raise oceans. She said we sang to keep hope during the long dark and that our song returned the sun to us. And, if we ever had the need, we should sing our desperation to wake the sleepers."
Grenwin seemed unconvinced. "Your mother sounds an interesting woman from everything the others say o' her. I'd have liked to meet her. Is this why we sing together in the evening?"
Ygdis nodded, "Aye, it is. She started that, you know. I'm glad we've kept to it."
"So long as we sing, she still lives, in a way," Grenwin murmured. She turned her gaze up to the heart tree's waving canopy, "I wonder…"
Whatever she was about to say was lost as Maia came running back towards them, long spear in hand. "I'm back!" She called as she approached, skidding to a stop in the snow and very nearly toppling from her haste.
Ygdis snickered at her enthusiasm.
"Remember what we were working on the other day?" Grenwin moved closer to the winged woman, who nodded up at her.
"Yes, how to stand and how to move the spear, right?"
"Aye. Now go on, get into the stance." Green eyes judged Maia's posture and she reached out to adjust the shorter woman's positioning, withdrawing once satisfied. "There you are."
Ygdis watched in bemusement as Grenwin walked her through exercises fit for the smallest children. It soon became clear, however, that Maia needed the foundational work. Watching her, it seemed she'd hardly held a spear in her life. Contrary to Ygdis's expectation, she moved easily enough in that strange dress; it didn't appear to hinder her at all. She had said she could make clothing this morning and Ygdis wondered if that pale cloth was somehow enchanted like her wooden tools were. The longer she observed, the more sure Ygdis was that it was, though she couldn't point to anything specific.
Ygdis tossed in her own insight where she felt Grenwin's fell short. Maia listened and before long Ygdis was being peppered with as many questions as Grenwin was. Ygdis wondered how any one person could have this many questions, a constant stream coming from the winged woman that she felt hard-pressed to answer.
They spent the afternoon working together, the sun steadily falling below the heart tree's canopy, stretching the shadows long and casting the red leaves in a blazing light. Ygdis found herself enjoying the practice, demonstrating the proper movements at Grenwin's behest and sharing the many little tricks she'd figured out.
As Maia worked, Ygdis and Grenwin continued their sparring. They were unable to repeat the earlier experience, to bring back the sensation of growth through rising to a mutual challenge, but it left Ygdis feeling satisfied regardless. Between bouts, Maia would refresh them, giving them the means to continue.
The sun hung low over the tops of tall soldier pines when the evening meal was called, Teagj's loud bellows echoing out over First Fork. Grenwin called an end to the day's training, eyes tired with a fatigue Maia's restoration couldn't touch. Ygdis felt much the same and was already imagining the comfort of her bed.
The three of them gathered their things and made their way over to the cookfire, following the scent of hot stew. They found the rest of First Fork already gathered under the gaze of the heart tree, the chatter of conversation washing over Ygdis in a wave of sound as they approached. The ground about the fire had been swept clear of snow and a pair of new wooden benches dragged over to join those ancient ones arranged around.
Gudrid stood close to the fire, holding a long spoon and stirring a bubbling cookpot sitting on the edge of the high flames, fragrant steam rising from the great iron vessel. Hild stood nearby with a pair of baskets at her feet, withdrawing new-made wooden bowls from one and spoons from the other, handing them to Gudrid, who ladled generous portions of steaming stew into each before passing them to Old Luta. The knife-thin woman passed them about the others sitting about the fire.
Herrick sat close to Wyck and Inella, gesturing with his bowl as he told one of his wild tales to the couple, listening close as they ate. Sigrid was trying to demonstrate a trick to Misa, flipping a shiny bit of round metal through her fingers and fumbling every so often; she passed it to Misa, who had little more success. Jorni and Lorni had returned from Antler Point, the former reclining on the bare earth with Teagj and Dagmoor, the latter lounging by Frerthe, who turned to stare daggers at Maia. Hoark and Wynt sat on the outskirts playing a game of rocks, tossing pebbles into small circles drawn in the dirt. Symon sat alone, spooning stew into his mouth with satisfaction.
Luta offered Grenwin a bowl, scowling at Ygdis and sniffing with derision towards Maia. Likewise, Hild and Gudrid took bowls for themselves and Luta before the three moved to sit with Frerthe and Lorni. Ygdis scowled right back at her, then was startled as Maia moved over to the fire. She either didn't notice the five watching her warily or didn't care as she took a pair of bowls from the basket, balancing one on her arm and holding the other with her palm. Ladling stew into both, she grabbed a pair of spoons with a graceful dip before coming back to offer one to Ygdis.
"Oh, my thanks," Ygdis said with gratitude as she took a steaming bowl. She'd not expected the winged woman to do that; from the way Maia walked and stood, it almost seemed she expected others to do that kind of work for her. She was glad for it, though.
"You're welcome," Maia beamed a smile at her.
Grenwin pulled them to sit across the fire from Frerthe and the others, settling down between Sigrid and Herrick. She said little as she ate, and after the first spoon of stew, Ygdis understood why.
She was ravenous, almost burning her mouth in her haste to wolf the food down. After she finished her first bowl, she stood and ladled herself another portion, Grenwin doing the same after a moment.
In comparison, Maia hardly seemed to touch her meal. By the time Grenwin and she were halfway finished with their second bowls, Maia had set hers aside, pulling her odd lute into her lap and stroking the skin stretched across the front. A thoughtful look came across her face as she peered into the fire, then she nodded. Shooting Ygdis and Grenwin a small smile, Maia rose and hopped up onto a bench, sitting on the back of it and fishing out the small tool she'd used earlier.
Plucking a quick chord, Maia garnered the attention of the group. "I know I've not sung at these meals yet," she said clearly over the chatter, "But I'd like to thank you all for allowing me to stay." Mismatched eyes looked out over them, and when they met Ygdis's and Grenwin's, Maia's lips twitched up in a smile. She lingered while looking across the fire at Frerthe and the others with her. "I'd like to play something if that's alright."
"Go on!" Herrick called without hesitation, "Sing!"
Wyck joined his call, then Inella and Misa, and soon a chant had begun, urging the newcomer to sing for them. Ygdis didn't hear Frerthe's voice in that chant, nor Luta's or Gudrid's or Lorni's; Hild, though, seemed just as taken in as the rest.
Maia preened under the attention, though, beaming a bright smile at them. Resonant notes rose as she began a slow melody, swaying slightly as she opened her mouth and sang.
"If all the stars just
won't shine for you,
if every moon turns its back on you too.
If you've been wondering
how to make it all through,
I will be there to light
up the infinite dark."
Her voice lilted through the air, words clear despite the softness of her tone. Her fingers moved with grace along the lute's neck, the paddle in her other hand strumming a haunting tune as the heel of her palm drummed a beat.
Ygdis felt herself being taken up in the song, unable to look away. Beside her, she felt as much as saw Grenwin leaning forward and watching Maia. On her other side, Sigrid hummed to the melody, soon joined by Misa's quieter voice.
"Let me be your flame.
Don't you be afraid.
I would never ever lead you astray.
Though there may come a day
when my fire fades,
may it carry on burning bright
in every grieving heart."
The words Maia sang were sad and resigned to Ygdis's ears, despite the hopeful tune she played. Her mother had sung like this, memories Ygdis thought forgotten rising clearly. Her eyes grew damp with the warmth blossoming in her chest.
"If the roads all greet
you with freezing rains,
if your so-called
comrades all do the same.
Just check your pulse and
you'll feel my flames,
like I'm right there to warm
you in the infinite cold."
It was both an offer and promise, Ygdis realized. A tear fell from her eye as the depth of Maia's appreciation came through. She wanted to join them, to be with and stand alongside them through the coldest winter. Ygdis's gratitude towards the others who had decided to take her in grew tenfold, and pride in herself for choosing to stand for Maia.
"Let me be your flame.
Don't you be afraid.
I would never ever lead you astray.
Though there may come a day
when my fire fades,
may it carry on burning bright."
Frerthe was a fool if she couldn't hear the oath in Maia's words. Strange as the woman was, she meant them no harm; why couldn't they see that as Ygdis did? She heard Grenwin sniffle beside her as another tear joined the first on Ygdis's cheek. They ought to be fine with keeping Maia for her singing if nothing else.
"In every grieving heart!
In every grieving heart.
May it burn!
Burn so bright!"
Maia's singing trailed off as her fingers slowed, the song coming to an end with a little flourish. Through watery eyes, Ygdis saw Maia wipe her own, then bow deeply at the waist to them. "Thank you for your patience," She said with a quiet voice that rang in the silence.
"What are you? What do you want with us?!" Lorni's demanding question rose from the other side of the fire and the man soon appeared, holding himself threateningly as he walked up to Maia.
Ygdis opened her mouth to shout the man down, but Grenwin's hand falling on her wrist gave her pause. Turning, she saw the Ice Wife's eyes were red-rimmed and she mouthed, "Wait and see." Ygdis nodded to her, watching the confrontation.
Maia seemed genuinely surprised by Lorni's questioning. "I'm lonely, I think. I'd like to be your neighbor, help out around First Fork." Her brows furrowed, "But, that's not what you're asking, is it?"
"Oh, you think yourself clever, do you?" Lorni scoffed at her, condescension dripping from his voice.
"I'm sorry, I think that's a bad habit of mine." Maia offered the man, blue-green eyes flicking to where Frerthe and the rest sat. "I think I'm… Mostly human, with some extras, if that's what you wanted to know. I've been struggling with that, you know." Her tone was as sincere as her words, in Ygdis's opinion, and they seemed to give Lorni pause. Maia continued after meeting his eyes a moment and nodding, "I've told this to a few people now, but I think it would be good to get it out into the open. I want to put my abilities to use to help the free folk stand on their own, get everyone below the Wall to put it between us and the Others. If you're willing to listen, I'd like to teach the things I know, things the people below the Wall could scarcely believe." Lifting a hand, she leaned forward and took Lorni's shoulder, meeting his eyes firmly, "Tell me what it would take to convince you, all of you, that I mean you no harm and that I will keep to my word."
Ygdis couldn't see Lorni's face, but she saw him set his posture stubbornly. A hand went to his belt knife, unsheathing the length of copper that gleamed in the firelight. He gestured with it at the heart tree's watching face.
"Swear it, then. Swear on your blood, under the eyes of the gods. Let them judge you true or false." He held the knife out to Maia, who glanced at it for a bare moment before taking it.
It was rare for such a serious oath to be demanded, Ygdis knew. In this circumstance, however, it might be the only thing that would convince the others. The gods would tell a false oath from true, and involving blood only made it all the more serious.
The breeze stilled then as Maia stood on the bench, raising her hands for all to see, knife clutched in one. The world seemed to hold its breath. Ygdis caught the barest moment of hesitation before she slashed her palm and pale crimson flowed down her wrist, staining the white sleeve of her dress red.
"I swear," Maia declared firmly, "On my blood, under the eyes of the gods, I swear I'll never use my talents to harm you. No matter how terrifying I might become, I will hold to that. I might make mistakes, I might cause accidents, but I will never intentionally hurt any of you. Even if you come together and decide I must go, you need not fear retribution. I will leave in peace and goodwill, should that day come."
None made a sound, the crackling of the fire and the soft drip-drip of Maia's blood splashing to the bench clear to Ygdis's ears. The sun dipped below the trees, casting them in shadow as a quiet hoot sounded from above. A small snowy owl sat among the heart-tree's branches, peering down at them all. A wind gusted over them with sudden force, whipping Ygdis's hair back and sending Maia's streaming ahead of her face. The leaves above them tossed with quiet rustling, the little owl flying down to perch lightly on Maia's shoulder. She didn't seem to realize as she brushed her hair out of her face.
The omen was clear to Ygdis and she was sure it was just as clear to the others. The gods accepted the oath. That owl, though, seemed familiar. With a start, Ygdis realized that was Ellir's bird. Of course the skinchanger would be curious, if Jorni and Lorni had spoken to her; Ellir had always had an interest in First Fork despite the distance she kept. It seemed she approved of Maia's promise as well.
Lorni's voice was tight as he spoke, "The gods accept your oath, then." His neck was stiff as he nodded; Maia offered him the knife and he took it, sheathing it before woodenly moving away.
Maia's gaze fell on the other side of the fire and she asked, "Do any of you still have doubts?"
"Nay," Hild called loudly, shortly joined by Luta and Gudrid. Frerthe was the last, and her voice was just as strained as Lorni's.
Maia's smile returned and she beamed at them. "Well, then, we can get along without all the suspicion, right?" The owl hooted on her shoulder and she turned her head to look, blinking in surprise as the bird met her eyes. "Oh, uh, hello. I didn't think my song was that good," a nervous chuckle came as she carefully stepped down off the bench and moved to sit back with Ygdis and Grenwin.
Chatter rose again in faltering starts. Misa shifted to give Maia a quick hug, whispering something in her ear that made the winged woman blink before pulling away again. Sigrid clapped her on the shoulder, "I liked that song. Can ye teach it to me?"
Maia nodded to her, eyes bright. "Sure. Later, though."
"Aye," Sigrid replied, settling back to give some distance.
"That was a pretty song," Grenwin told Maia with appreciation, though her eyes were locked on the owl. "Hello, Ellir. As you can see, we're all still alive. Maia's to thank for that."
The owl hooted softly, bobbing its head in a nod.
"Ah, isn't this just an owl?" Maia asked, tilting her head away from the bird with a look of discomfort.
"No," Ygdis said, reaching out to give the owl a light scratch atop his soft head. He preened at the attention. "Ellir's a skinchanger, and this'un was a chick what hatched strange. He has no mind o' his own, the way she tells it."
"…Skinchanger?" Maia asked lowly, concerned and mismatched eyes locked on the bird.
"Those who can enter the minds o' animals and control them," Grenwin explained. "Many Ice Wives are skinchangers, though the talent is not needed to claim a Bear. I am one, as is my sister, my mother, her mother before her, and so on as long as we can remember."
Maia's discomfort seemed to grow, bloodied hand grabbing at her other sleeve and smearing red on the fabric as she rolled it between her fingers. "Gren, is there a difference between an animal and a human?"
Ygdis saw the Ice Wife stumped for words, perhaps for the first time she could remember. She spoke up for her, "It is an abomination for a skinchanger to take a man. That is a grave crime among us, graver than even murder. After all, you can only kill someone once."
"But… Is it possible, then?" Maia asked with horror, "It's possible for something to get into your mind and… Control you? Injure you, at least?"
"Only the strongest skinchangers are capable o' such a feat," Grenwin spoke firmly, reaching out and taking Maia's hands, heedless of the drying blood. "Do not worry over this. You are strong-willed enough that you would recognize any attempt."
"How do you know that?" Maia's voice was pitched to a whisper, eyes wide and fearful.
"I have a sense for it. My talent was always to know the limits o' my ability and the strength o' those near me. I cannot explain how I know, I simply do." Grenwin shrugged, then added, "I promise you, Maia, so long as you stay strong and resist, your mind will be your own."
Maia's expression fell and she looked at the bare earth between them, shame writ across her features. Her voice was nearly too low for Ygdis to make out as she said, "When the sword… When I… I heard her in my mind, speaking to me, urging me to accept her. She claimed we were already partially bonded. I…" Squeezing her eyes shut, Maia shuddered, her hands gripping Grenwin's and her knuckles turning white. "I broke, inside. I let her in and I could feel her at the edge of my thoughts. I still feel her. She guided me through the battle, but…"
Ygdis remembered the morning, the way Maia had snapped at her that her sword thought. Could there be a woman in there, thinking inside that strange metal? It sounded mad, yet it might be a thing of skinchanging. If it was, could her hold over Maia be broken, somehow?
Grenwin's mouth was set in a thin line, brows furrowed over green eyes. "Maia…" Words seemed to fail her and she pulled the short woman into an embrace, the owl hopping off to settle on Ygdis's shoulder. "You can heal from this," Grenwin murmured with conviction.
Ygdis had never heard a story where one taken by a skinchanger had become whole again after being broken. Most oft, those tales ended in a bloody end for skinchanger and victim alike, or with the broken hurling themselves from the tops of tall trees or cliffs or stripping themselves before wandering out into the cold to die.
She stroked Ellir's owl as she thought, feathers soft under her fingertips. "Yea," Ygdis said after a moment, "If anyone can heal, you can. You'd be the first, though."
Grenwin shot a glare at her and Ygdis reeled back.
"Try not to sound so confident," Maia told Ygdis with forced humor, meeting her eyes from where she was held against Grenwin.
They fell quiet after that, the other two seemingly as lost in their thoughts as Ygdis felt. Soon enough darkness fell and Ygdis cajoled Maia into helping with the cleaning. Grenwin stuck around to help as well, though the others drifted away. After, they returned to Grenwin's home and bedded down for the night.
After the length of the day, sleep took Ygdis in moments.
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Author's Notes: Ygdis II
Notes:
I'm still working on writing fight scenes. I figured starting with a spar would be acceptable practice while showing some important characterization.
Ygdis loves a good fight. She's overjoyed that Grenwin seems to have surpassed her again.
Much of Grenwin's newfound ability comes from being healed of her past injuries. As Maia found, Grenwin had the bones of her right arm broken and set improperly as well as a slew of other things that Grenwin has adapted to living with. She's able to push herself to the fullest, where she often had to hold back before.
Ygdis hadn't really thought through what challenging Teagj entailed. Sure, she knew she would have to fight him, but the man has kept First Fork intact for years now, building connections between them and other nearby villages and continuing a set of policies Ygdis's mother had established prior. He might be a bully, but he genuinely is trying to do the best he can for his people. Ygdis is, however, blinded by her grievances towards him.
Grenwin spilled the beans regarding Maia's lights to Ygdis. This was not a decision she made lightly. However, she trusts Ygdis and felt she owed her the full picture of what was going on, since Ygdis has been saddled with teaching Maia.
Maia's been thinking about her outburst that morning and beating herself up over it, whereas neither Gren nor Ygdis held it against her.
Maia's shamisen felt appropriate, given the lutes she's already produced for others and her personal history. It's distinctive.
Ygdis used to have a crush on Grenwin. She's grown out of that and is sincerely happy that Grenwin might have finally found someone that caught her eye.
In Sekiro parlance, Ygdis attempted a Mikiri counter during their second bout that was swiftly countered in turn.
Both Ygdis and Grenwin experience the barest edges of an esoteric principle centered on improvement through conflict during their fight. This principle requires a partnership between two partners or rivals in order to manifest any effect.
They mention battle-song after Maia leaves. Song magic is a thing that crops up across the books, from Daemon Targaryen singing to bond a second dragon to Mirri Maz Duur's singing during Daenerys's dragon hatching. Here, I make explicit reference to the mythical Hammer of the Waters that the Children of the Forest supposedly sung into being to smash apart the Dornish-Essosi land bridge.
I hope the evening meal felt well-established. I wanted to give another glimpse of their daily life through the eyes of someone who has lived that way rather than through Maia's perspective.
Ygdis has some skill in identifying who associates with who, though she doesn't actively cultivate it.
Maia takes a moment to think about whether or not to try playing some music. This ties back to her reticence in the previous chapter towards showing the kind of vulnerability one needs to in order to perform publicly. That she chooses to try feels like an important step for her.
The song Maia plays here is Flame Shadow from the Arknights soundtrack, composed by Matthew Carl Earl and David Lin, and performed by Laura Intravia.
In this iteration, Maia is confronted after she sings rather than before, and her explanation feels more human this time around.
Lorni demands a blood oath from her, something that isn't often done but is respected across the various free folk societies.
Whether or not the ensuing events are natural, I will leave up for interpretation. Ygdis and the others give these things serious weight, though. Does it matter if something is really happening if everyone believes that to be the case?
Ellir's owl is unique, as far as I'm aware. We don't often see skinchangers warging animals who completely lack a mind, and this one hatched an empty vessel. He would have died in short order if not for Ellir bonding him.
As soon as Maia understands what a skinchanger is and what they can do, she makes the immediate assumption that what happened with the sword is related. Ygdis also comes to that conclusion.
I'm still working on writing fight scenes. I figured starting with a spar would be acceptable practice while showing some important characterization.
Ygdis loves a good fight. She's overjoyed that Grenwin seems to have surpassed her again.
Much of Grenwin's newfound ability comes from being healed of her past injuries. As Maia found, Grenwin had the bones of her right arm broken and set improperly as well as a slew of other things that Grenwin has adapted to living with. She's able to push herself to the fullest, where she often had to hold back before.
Ygdis hadn't really thought through what challenging Teagj entailed. Sure, she knew she would have to fight him, but the man has kept First Fork intact for years now, building connections between them and other nearby villages and continuing a set of policies Ygdis's mother had established prior. He might be a bully, but he genuinely is trying to do the best he can for his people. Ygdis is, however, blinded by her grievances towards him.
Grenwin spilled the beans regarding Maia's lights to Ygdis. This was not a decision she made lightly. However, she trusts Ygdis and felt she owed her the full picture of what was going on, since Ygdis has been saddled with teaching Maia.
Maia's been thinking about her outburst that morning and beating herself up over it, whereas neither Gren nor Ygdis held it against her.
Maia's shamisen felt appropriate, given the lutes she's already produced for others and her personal history. It's distinctive.
Ygdis used to have a crush on Grenwin. She's grown out of that and is sincerely happy that Grenwin might have finally found someone that caught her eye.
In Sekiro parlance, Ygdis attempted a Mikiri counter during their second bout that was swiftly countered in turn.
Both Ygdis and Grenwin experience the barest edges of an esoteric principle centered on improvement through conflict during their fight. This principle requires a partnership between two partners or rivals in order to manifest any effect.
They mention battle-song after Maia leaves. Song magic is a thing that crops up across the books, from Daemon Targaryen singing to bond a second dragon to Mirri Maz Duur's singing during Daenerys's dragon hatching. Here, I make explicit reference to the mythical Hammer of the Waters that the Children of the Forest supposedly sung into being to smash apart the Dornish-Essosi land bridge.
I hope the evening meal felt well-established. I wanted to give another glimpse of their daily life through the eyes of someone who has lived that way rather than through Maia's perspective.
Ygdis has some skill in identifying who associates with who, though she doesn't actively cultivate it.
Maia takes a moment to think about whether or not to try playing some music. This ties back to her reticence in the previous chapter towards showing the kind of vulnerability one needs to in order to perform publicly. That she chooses to try feels like an important step for her.
The song Maia plays here is Flame Shadow from the Arknights soundtrack, composed by Matthew Carl Earl and David Lin, and performed by Laura Intravia.
In this iteration, Maia is confronted after she sings rather than before, and her explanation feels more human this time around.
Lorni demands a blood oath from her, something that isn't often done but is respected across the various free folk societies.
Whether or not the ensuing events are natural, I will leave up for interpretation. Ygdis and the others give these things serious weight, though. Does it matter if something is really happening if everyone believes that to be the case?
Ellir's owl is unique, as far as I'm aware. We don't often see skinchangers warging animals who completely lack a mind, and this one hatched an empty vessel. He would have died in short order if not for Ellir bonding him.
As soon as Maia understands what a skinchanger is and what they can do, she makes the immediate assumption that what happened with the sword is related. Ygdis also comes to that conclusion.