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WhAT iS MaDNeSs 

A link to one of my poems 

WhAT iS MaDNeSs 

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Stains From a Chicken Salad Sandwich 

A link to one of my stories 

Stains From a Chicken Salad Sandwich 

Karl Dewey entered the canteen on the ground floor of the office building. His office, D. C. and H., of which he was ‘D.’, was on the ninth floor. The main lunch rush had cleared out, and Karl quickly chose a chicken salad sandwich and a diet soda. He paid the cashier without acknowledging him as he rang the items and took his money, with neither really acknowledging the other. Karl took his lunch and left the building. He had a sour look on his face as he crossed the street to the park. He was supposed to be having lunch with his partners, celebrating the signing of a new client, but a matter concerning an old client called for his attention. Now that they settled the matter, he didn’t go to the lunch party. It would be winding down by the time he got there.

Once in the park, he made for a set of benches under a couple of elm trees. This late in the lunch hour, its seclusion would offer some privacy. Years before, it had a lovely outlook over the river, but new greenery obscured the view. The shrubs didn’t bother Karl; the city had traded the view for privacy, which suited him fine at the moment.

Karl sat down on the bench, opened his soda, and took a drink. After taking a sip, he wrinkled his face.

“Blah, warm.”

He pulled out his tablet to watch a wildlife video. After selecting one on kudus, he set his tablet aside and unwrapped his lunch, and started to eat.

In the video, the researchers had just darted kudu to take measurements of it. They discussed what to do with it as they tagged and measured it. Karl felt a sting in his neck. He slapped at the bug he believed was the culprit.

“I wish they’d do a better job spraying for bugs.”

While Karl was chewing another bite of his sandwich, the researchers had found and darted another kudu. He could feel his eyes growing heavy, and his mind wandered like he was in a dream. In this state, Karl imagined what it was like for the kudu.

In his mind, he could feel himself slumping on the bend, and his head nodded forward. The hand that held the chick salad sandwich fell onto his chest before gently dragging it down his tie and shirt before landing on his lap. The sandwich went tumbling out of his hand and onto the ground.

Karl, unable to move, saw the researchers’ approach through blurry eyes. At first, it was a pair of rangers dressed in metallic green suits with a gray ski mask pulled down, so it hid their faces. Each held a rod between their index and middle finger of their four fingered hands. Once they secured the area, they motioned to another.

This one wore the same outfit as the first two. However, this one didn’t have a rod in hand but held a device about twice as thick as a cell phone. It pointed the device at Karl and waved it for a moment before putting it away.

No sooner had this ranger put the device away than several researchers descended on Karl. These wore silver or gray suits, but wore the same ski masks. Now that these researchers were closer, Karl could see that the eyes on the ski masks were oval and had a black cover over them. ‘These researchers seem a bit odd,’ Karl thought to himself.

As the strangely dressed researchers pored over Karl, they took his various measurements and samples. One had a short cylinder-type device that emitted a blue beam at Karl and ran it over his body. While this was going on, another researcher put a sleeve over one of Karl’s fingers. Through his bleary eyes, he watched the end of the blue sleeve turn a dark red. The researchers seemed to chirp and click to one another in an odd language during this.

While most of the researchers examined Karl, a pair took notice of his partially eaten sandwich. They took the remains and placed them in a container before scurrying off. Another researcher examined his soda, using a long thin rod to draw some out.

Most of the researchers left after they had performed their tasks. When there was only one gray-clad researcher left, he approached Karl with a clamp-like device in his hand, which he held up to the side of Karl’s head. With an electric buzz, Karl felt like something had shocked him on the ear; the researcher chirped, then disappeared with his fellow researchers. Karl shook his head after a few minutes and looked around. Everything seemed to be as it was when he first sat down. He looked on the ground for the remains of his sandwich, but all he found was its wrapper. Picking up his tablet, he stopped the video before putting it in his pocket. He then grabbed the sandwich wrapper and soda before standing up.

He felt a little lightheaded as he stood as if he was waking for the day. He took a deep breath and shook his head before heading back to the office.

He entered the building and made for the canteen for some coffee. But, again, he and the cashier interacted with the fewest words possible.

He took the elevator to the ninth floor. As he entered the double doors into the reception area of his firm, Ms. Habib greeted him. “Mr. Dewey, I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I didn’t take my phone with me to lunch. I just went over to the park. Is there something going on?”

“Yes. Mrs. Howe called and said there was a fire in the building next to the restaurant, and it filled the restaurant with smoke. No one was hurt, but she said they were all going home for the day.”

Karl grimaced at the news. He took a sip of coffee before asking, “So I’m left to man the fort? Any appointments this afternoon?”

She shook her head and said, “Except for a couple of interns, it is just you and me. The schedule is clear. You could run home and change your shirt and tie unless you have something pressing. You’ve got something all over it.”

He looked down and noticed stains from his sandwich when he dropped it. “Bah. No, I’ll be fine. I have a spare shirt and tie in my office. Thanks for pointing it out.”

“Not a problem, Mr. Dewey,” she said with a large, friendly smile. “I like your earring. Amethyst suits you. I never noticed it before. Did you get your ear pierced during lunch?”

[p-s-smith-author]

Old Poems  

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me." 

Old Poems  

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Inbul's Daughter 

A link to one of my stories 

Inbul's Daughter 

Master Inbul, one of Elhrub’s greatest sages and philosophers, was giving an open lecture at the Great Agora. This was intriguing in that he normally spoke only at the agora on the grounds of his ‘bibliotheca,’ as he calls it. He was to speak on his principles of leadership, and, as being a student of such masters, I intended to be in attendance.

When I arrived at the Great Agora, several sages and students such as myself were already present. I was fortunate enough to find a seat near enough that I could see and hear Master Inbul without being distracted by some of the other masters, who would often comment amongst themselves.

Prior to Master Inbul’s arrival, I noticed Master Vrageo near the front discussing something with some of his peers. He seemed agitated at one of the other masters, of whom I could not see, as he kept pointing at them. I presumed this master was probably Nerian or Torat (or at least what they considered a sage), as a few other groups of sages and students seemed to discuss their presence as well.

The various attendees quieted down and took their seats once Mater Inbul approached the agora, and no sooner had he welcomed everyone and thanked us for coming than Master Vrageo interrupted.

“Master Inbul, I am, as I’m sure everyone in attendance here is, eager to hear you speak. Before you begin, though, there is one matter that has to be addressed. That woman, who sits as if she were a master, must be removed.”

A woman? That was the source of the discussion amongst the others? From my vantage point, I could not confirm this, but the vague outline of their form suggested that Master Vrageo was correct.

“Removed? For what reason?” Inbul responded. “Is not the Great Agora open to all?”

Undeterred, Vrageo said, “It is. But this lecture is a discussion amongst learned men and students. It is currently no place for a woman, especially one who presumes to be a master sage.”

“She presumes nothing. Loqinn is my student and here at my invitation. As my guest, she may sit among the masters.”

This answer seemed to infuriate Vrageo. “You must have gone mad. Your affinity for the Timerialians, attempting to teach women to think and reason, and now this. I demand that she leave at once.”

“No,” Inbul said in a calm voice. “However, if you wish to prove that Loqinn is not fit to be a student, and therefore not worthy to be my guests, then debate her.”

Vrageo said with a sneer, “It will be my pleasure to once and for all end this frivolous notion that we can teach a woman to think and reason.” This response brought murmurs from several who shared Vrageo’s view that women could not think like men.

I was not so sure. At an inn I sometimes frequent for meals, there is a serving maid I have had the pleasure of talking with on several occasions. This maid, Dietes, seems to possess a greater intellect than normally attributed to women. I paid more attention to the debate because of this.

Inbul’s guest, Loqinn, and Master Vrageo both approached Inbul. I could now see her clearly, and I found Loqinn was a very plain-looking woman, though younger than the two masters, though it was hard to estimate her age. If pressed, I would say she was about 40 at the very least. It was clear that she was nervous, standing in front of all these influential thinkers.

“Master Inbul, on what subject would you like me to lecture your student on?” Vrageo said, mocking Master Inbul.

I saw a slight smile come across Inbul’s lips, much like a cat playing with its prey. “Simply what is it like to carry a child?”

This enraged Vrageo. “What do you mean, ‘carry a child?’ What nonsense is this?”

Calmly Inbul clarified, “Simply just that. What is it like to carry a child until its birth?” I do not know if Master Inbul premeditated or just hatched this, but it was quite brilliant. He had played Master Vrageo into a subject that he should be at a clear disadvantage of.

It visibly changed Loqinn. She no longer showed any nervousness. She had an air of confidence about her. Much like a true, elderly sage has when asked a simple question on a subject they have studied their entire life.

“Very well then,” began Vrageo. “To carry a child to birth does not differ from having a water skin placed on one’s abdomen. Over the course of eight months, one adds the equivalent of two stones of water to the skin. Then, at the appropriate time, that water is expelled from the body, partly as the child. There is no great discussion to be had on these facts.”

There was a long pause before Inbul spoke. “Is that all, Master Vrageo? Do you yield the Agora?”

“Yes.”

There were a number of whispers by those in attendance at this. I will admit that I thought Master Vrageo had made a good argument, though not one of his better speeches.

“Loqinn, you may now begin.”

Loqinn took a deep breath before starting. “Before I begin, I wish to thank publicly Master Inbul for asking me to attend as his guest. Also, I would like to thank Master Vrageo for entering into this debate with me. Finally, I thank all of you in attendance for listening to my argument.

“To a degree, what Master Vrageo has described is correct. To carry a child is something like a water skin being slowly filled. That is the limit to where he is correct.

“I know this because I have been a midwife, and I have had four children of my own. I say without a doubt each time was different. Some of my children were active in my womb, and I could feel them move and flail. Sometimes I thought they would grow up to be violent, as they would kick and punch so actively. My son, on the other hand, was docile and seldom moved.

“And while carrying them, my appetite changed. Some foods that were normal for me to eat had become bland and unappealing, while others I rarely care for now were what I sought to eat. In addition, there were the early days where I felt I could not keep any food down.

“Besides feeling my children move inside me and my change in appetite, my feet, ankles and wrists would swell. With my first child, my ankles were the size of melons, and feet had become so large that I could not wear shoes or sandals and thus went barefoot. My wrists had swollen so much, I had some difficulty doing simple tasks such as sewing.

“When I gave birth to my children, I experienced a pain like I never felt before or since. It is not the pain, such a bruise, or cut, or even a broken bone. What I endured was something far more. It was as if every fiber of my being was working to expel my children, to deliver them into this world. I do not believe a common laborer, if they were to work from sunup to sundown for a fortnight, would know the strain on the body as I did during my children’s birth.”

Subconsciously, I had leaned forward to pay more attention to Loqinn. She lacked the elegance of speech that many in attendance had, but she spoke with a passion. This passion she spoke with seemed to mesmerize many in the Agora as they sat nearly silent and motionless, listening to her.

“Much of what I have stated is already available to men such as you in the writings of physicians and is common knowledge to midwives,” she said. “There is one aspect of carrying a child and delivering them into the world that has not been mentioned yet. Everything I stated so far is meaningless compared to it. That is the bond between mother and child.

“It is something that I cannot properly explain and do true justice to, even though I have had 4 children. To do so would require a special person, a poet. A poet whose words elicit the strongest emotions in the readers as if they had actually felt what the poet had written. A poet who is also a mother, one who has born a child into this world.

“I am no poet, but I will try to explain to you to the best of my limited ability.

“Each time I learned I was pregnant, my feelings were in chaos. I was happy, elated, scared, and worried all at the same time. Elated in that I was going to be a mother or re-affirmed that I was a mother, for I saw this as a blessing. Scared and worried at the prospect of being a mother in terms of what if I was to not do good or fail at being a mother?

“During the months I carried my children, I grew to love them and there was nothing in all the hells I would not endure for them. They are my life and I will care for them for the rest of my life. The discomfort of carrying them and of their birth was but a pittance I would have paid to have them. So, when they finally came into this world, I wept with tears of joy.

“Save for my second child, my first son. He was stillborn and drew no breath in this world. At this, I cried tears of pain. In the months that followed, I was but a shadow, forced to exist for his sister. It was she, not my husband nor priest, which eventually led me out of darkness. I had born her into the world and I had to see her into womanhood.

“When I conceived her sister, it was my first daughter who gave me hope I would bring this next one into the world safely. She was the proof that I had done it once and the conviction I could do it again.”

Loqinn’s emotions were getting to her as she had started crying as she explained her emotions about having children. I do not believe these were tears of weakness, not after hearing how impassioned she was. These were tears of both pain and joy that no man could ever understand.

She paused long enough to wipe her eyes and recompose herself before concluding, “That, my assembled Masters, is what it is like to carry a child.”

The Great Agora was silent for a moment. Slowly, as if a spell was being lifted, Master Inbul rose from his seat among the attendees. I had not noticed he had sat down amongst them. As he approached Loqinn and Master Vrageo, Master Urius stood and applauded. Many other masters and attendees soon joined him. I could see from my vantage that Loqinn was both excited and humbled by this.

“I believe the winner of this debate is decided,” Inbul said. Before he could speak another word, Master Vrageo stormed out of the agora, followed by some of his colleagues and disciples.

After the applause quieted down some, someone from the crowd spoke, “Madam Loqinn, thank you for your insight into this.” This brought several confirmations from the masters.

“I am honored and humbled by your praise,” she said in reply with a slight bow.

“Madam Loqinn, how long have you been Master Inbul’s student?”

“I first heard Mater Inbul speak some six or seven years ago. Only in the last three have I become his student.”

Master Urius then asked, “Mistress Loqinn, I find your speech on bearing children quite stimulating. May I ask you to write a thesis on the matter?”

Often, sages expect students to write theses of their own, especially on a subject they had an insight into. But Urius’s use of the title ‘Mistress’ was quite intriguing. She was but a student, and here was a master calling her his equal.

“I am no master,” Loqinn began in response, “I am just a student whom Master Inbul has taken to teach. But time permitting, yes, I will write a thesis on this.”

“Mistress Loqinn, compared to myself and my peers, on the subject you have debated, you have proven yourself to be our better. So, in that regard, if nothing else, you are a master,” Urius clarified.

Questions from the Agora kept coming. Though most addressed Loqinn as ‘madam,’ there were a few addressed to ‘mistress.’ The questions ranged from why she became a student to what subjects she was interested in. There were even questions about her opinions and interpretations of various subjects.

When the first questions about her thoughts came, she was again plainly nervous. I could understand this as I was nervous the first time I stood before an agora and was questioned. She quickly shed this nervousness and began to relax. Since the questions didn’t seem to be abating, Master Inbul yielded the Agora to Loqinn by sitting with his peers, a smile of satisfaction on his face, like a proud father.

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New Home Found, New Home Lost 

A link to one of my stories 

New Home Found, New Home Lost 

A ship orbited a blue-green planet, the third out from its host star. Of the many planets that were detected from the edge of the star’s heliopause, this was one of two with liquid water on its surface. The other with liquid water had an eccentric orbit and spent most of its time as an ice ball, according to the computer model.

Qikzu turned an eye stalk to the monitor that showed the projected orbits of thousands of objects in this solar system. Short of the occasional small asteroid or comet, few objects crossed the path of this world. The gas giants further out and this planet’s satellite made sure of that.

A flash of a green light on the control panel distracted Qikzu, its lower mandibles twitching. A single maneuvering thruster showed a fault, then cleared. Twice, Qikzu ran diagnostics on the thruster and both times it showed good.

Turning another eye stalk to a different monitor, Qikzu operated the control panel with one of its eight forelimbs. The display showed several measurements about the surface of the planet. The temperature, humidity, the makeup of its atmosphere and oceans all appeared to be within tolerable ranges. In addition, the levels of iridium were well within the safe zone.

This planet seemed like an ideal place for a colony of Qikzu’s people. Their homeworld was nearly dead because of tectonic activity. For generations, earthquakes and volcanoes had ravaged the planet. Compared to the homeworld, this planet was quiet.

Some of Qikzu’s people had left for the stars before the earthquakes. More left when earthquakes started. Now, those hundreds of colonies faced overcrowding, and new worlds needed to be found.

The planet Qikzu orbited was a rare gem. Its people would not require environmental centers to live here. Almost all the land mass would be available to colonization, not just areas where environmental domes existed.

It went back to examining the data that the scanners were showing on the planet. It contained life. There were organisms that were harvesting the starlight to produce food. In addition, there were quadrupeds and bipeds roaming the landscape. Many of the quadrupeds clustered together, while the bipeds milled about in groups no larger than four or five.

Qikzu studied the life forms of this world. The dominant, higher forms were, like all higher life forms on other planets, unique. It had never seen life forms as large as some quadrupeds. Stranger still, these creatures did not have an exoskeleton. Their entire mass seemed to be supported by an internal calcium structure.

“I will leave all the biology to the experts,” it thought to itself. “Even though there is no sign of myriapol intelligence down there, we might have relatives there. Just primitive.”

Qikzu set the computer to calculate the course home before leaving the bridge, its forty legs clacking on the deck as it gripped it in the microgravity environment. It was not aware that the maneuvering thruster showed a fault again.

After a short while, the ship broke out of orbit and headed out of the system. Qikzu had finished preparations to hibernate for the FTL journey home when the ship crossed the orbit of the fifth planet, the largest gas giant in the system. It had twenty-five times that distance to go before it accelerated to FTL.

As the ship passed an asteroid, the computer made a slight course correction. The thruster that had been intermittently showing a fault spit out a tiny chunk of frozen gas. Nothing about this registered on any of the sensors, so it went undetected.

The piece of frozen gas sped on in the general direction of the asteroid. Though the asteroid was tiny compared to a planet, it was massive compared to the frozen gas. The gravity of the asteroid was just enough to bend the path of the gas towards it. With incredible velocity, the gas slammed into the asteroid.

Seemingly unaffected, the asteroid continued its drift through the solar system. It crossed the orbit of the fifth planet where gravity tugged on it, bending its orbit slightly.

The asteroid continued to drift through the solar system until the third planet and its satellite pulled on it again. The asteroid came close to the satellite, but now headed towards the blue green-planet.

When Qikzu returned with another myriapol ship, it looked in disbelief at what they found. They did not see a blue-green world, but one that was covered in a gray-black coat of clouds.

“I thought you said this planet was habitable,” Nida said. “Look at it. I don’t need sensors and probes to tell me it is a wasteland.” Its four eye stalks glaring at Qikzu on the monitor, both sets of its mandibles opening and closing in frustration.

“I assure you, when I left, the planet was green and full of life. I showed you the data capture. Even the iridium levels were well within safety limits. Nearly non-existent.”

“The iridium levels are beyond lethal levels. If we send anything down there, it will be stuck forever. That planet is a toxic dump. We’re leaving.”

Soon, Nida’s ship left orbit heading out of the system, never to return. A short while later, Qikzu’s ship also broke orbit. It checked the controls before it went to prepare for hibernation when it realized the course. It was not heading out of the system, but deeper into it, through the photosphere of the star. In desperation, Qikzu tried to change the course, but the computer rejected all of its commands.

The now grey planet continued to orbit the star. Life survived on it. Many of the creatures that had once inhabited it were now gone forever, extinct, but a few smaller creatures made it through the devastation. As the planet continued to revolve around its star, they thrived and diversified.

Over sixty-three million revolutions, new life forms emerged. A particular species of bipeds dominated the planet. These creatures, humans, never realized how close they came to never existing or how close Earth came to be a colony for an alien race.

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The Blade  

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me." 

The Blade  

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Weekly Update #193

Hello Readers. For the most part, this week was quite on the creative front due to overtime at my regular job. Even still, I did manage to get “The Stafford Building” out for some beta reading and waiting on the returns. In addition, I started doing an edit read of “Drought, Famine and the Flame.” Also, I managed two new releases on YouTube: “Two Dark Paths” Vlog #5 Not long after I posted…

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Chaos of Imagination - E5 - Query Fest

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The Path

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me."

The Path

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Willow's Tree

A link to one of my stories:

Willow's Tree

An elven fable about an aelf and her tree.

An elvish fable that I first discovered from an elf who was visiting Algan. As he was telling it in Lallinian, I could not understand it outside of it told of an aelf princess and a tree. When I asked the elf about it, he would not translate, scribe or give me any more information about it.

Seventeen years later, I found an aelf who retold the tale to me in Zumarn. Before reciting it to me, she explained some elves view this story as sacred and thus will only tell it in Lallinian to honor Willow.

— Beglistr, Sage of ElhrubYear 118

In her youth, Willow was exploring the forest near her home when she found a strange tree at the edge of a meadow. It wasn’t like any other tree she had seen in the forest. It wasn’t a pine as it had leaves. Nor was it an oak or elm, for it had long, spindly branches with leaves far too small to be an oak or elm or any other tree in the forest. It was unique in the forest.

Willow told her father about the tree she had found. He had never heard of such a tree. The next day, he and Willow went back to the tree. After inspecting it, he said, “I think this tree may be sick, or its version of celithul. It seems to be lonely so its branches and leaves do not grow right.”

“Can we help it, papa?”

“I do not know. But it would not hurt to care for it. Keep it company. Let it know, you care for it.”

“Then I will, papa.”

Willow spent the next 40 years caring for her tree. The elves of her home dubbed it ‘Willow’s tree.’ It grew in height quickly and became one of the more massive trees in the area. Despite this, its leaves and spindly branches never fully developed and remained looking stunted.

Though she spent much time with her tree, Willow rose to being a member of the Council. During her time there, the elves prospered, and they started forming relationships with some of their human neighbors.

Then the Sutlanders landed on the coast.

This was not the first time Sutlanders had been this far north, but this group was different. It wasn’t two or three ships with a score of men total; it was a half dozen ships and well over a hundred men and a few women. When they landed, they didn’t seem interested in the trees of the forest to cut down and haul away as their predecessors. These Sutlanders cut down trees to build shelters.

The thought of Sutlanders raiding or trying to establish a colony on Iliapin or raiding terrified the human neighbors of Willow’s people. Hearing this, some elves wished to band with their human neighbors and go to war to expel the Sutlanders. Willow and most of the council rejected this idea.

An aelf, Ashryn, deposed of Willow and took her seat on the council. This swayed the balance of power. The elves now made ready to face the Sutlanders, who by this point had attacked a small fishing settlement of humans.

Being that Ashryn was Willow’s niece, Willow took charge of the scouts who would harass the Sutlanders and force them back to their home across the sea. But Willow and her people had never faced Sutlanders before. They did not know Sutlander cunning or treachery.

Not knowing, Willow and her party walked into a trap in the meadow where her tree stood. The Sutlanders were waiting on the edge of the forest as the elves crossed when they sprung the trap. 

A volley of arrows and stones rained down on the elves before they could react. They struck many of the elves, Willow among them. As the second volley came, a mass of Sutlanders charged the elves.

Willow could feel her life slipping. Hurt too bad to fight, so she clawed her way to her tree. By the time the battle was over, the Sutlanders had routed the elves. She could see the Sutlanders making sport with an aelf prisoner. Dazed and already severely injured, even if Willow had a weapon other than a knife, there was nothing she could do for her comrades. She didn’t have the strength to move.

As she waited for death to take her, the spindly branches of her tree started to droop. “Thank you, friend, for concealing me,” Willow said in a whisper, as she took her last breaths.

A few days later, after forcing the Sutlanders back to the beach and to their boats, elves returned to the meadow. There, they found Willow underneath her tree. Its spindly branches still drooping.

In the following few years, while the tree remained, its branches continued to droop, as if weeping over the death of its friend. A few saplings we found in the meadow, their branches also drooping.

To honor Willow, the area became known as ‘Willow’s grove.’ While the trees with the drooping branches became known as ‘Weeping Willows.’

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Two Dark Paths

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Fate's Dilemma

A link to one of my stories

Fate's Dilemma

Fate sat motionless at her loom as she weaved the story of Olith and its people. Her fingers glided over the threads as the shuttle danced through. In her realm, nothing moved while everything moved. Fate had no form, and yet, she appeared in an infinite variety of shapes.

Suddenly, she paused as her trunk hovered over her work and sniffed. Then, she ran a tentacle over her work and the thread she had been working with, while an eye stalk inspected everything.

“Is everything alright?” Fate said to himself as he rested a paw on the top of the frame of the loom.

“A card has a bent corner,” she said in reply as she leaned back from the table. Slowly, four of her six multi-faceted eyes blinked slowly at herself.

Fate picked the card up in one of her claws while the other claw touched the corner. If the mass of ooze that was Fate had a face, it would have had a frown as the dice floated through its body. Its quivering mass rolled up from the floor causing the dice to roll over and over.

Fate stood up from leaning over the book. “Yes, there is a stain in the book. The end of an age. That happens. It has happened countless times before on countless other worlds, and it will happen again, countless times more.”

It used a copper rod to point to the last line it had written. “It is not just that the page is flawed, but now the ink will not set. The world is in chaos, dying.”

“All worlds die, but this is premature. We must correct this, but what we have done, we cannot undo.”

For several minutes, Fate looked at the problem. Her forked tongue darted out periodically. Several times, it touched its work, then looked at the remainder. “This will fix it,” she finally said.

She pulled some of the thread from the bobbin, licked her fingers and ran them across the thread. The frayed strands adhered to the thread, making it smooth once again. She then used a needle to prick her finger and placed a drop of her yellow blood on the thread before rolling it back on the bobbin. Satisfied, she began weaving again.

Fate resumed her work. To herself she thought, “I have given the world a chance to abate the chaos so it may live its full measure. The Spring of the World is all but gone, but my instrument has the ability to rebalance the world. This may save the others for a while longer. But at what cost? Even we do not yet know.”

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Why I Write

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me."

Why I Write

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Observation of Sutlanders 

A link to one of my stories 

Observation of Sutlanders 

As recorded by the Beglistr, Sage of Elhrub, Year 125

In the year one-hundred seventeen after the establishment of the order Sage of Elhrub, I journeyed to the western coasts of Iliapin and north of the new kingdom of Flaoya. I had come to that area to study the people there and to find a suitable location for a bibliotheca. As other members of the Order were already at work in Flaoya, I looked elsewhere.

In my travels, I spent a few months with the elves of that region. They were, by their nature, more guarded than the Imneralian or Timerialian elves. However, they had heard of the Sage of Elhrub from their kin in the east, and so, they approached me.

Shortly after meeting them, my guides, Durothil and Castien, escorted me to the coast so I could make observations of plants and animals there. As we emerged from the forest and could see the open ocean, my guides stopped and surveyed the horizon.

“Sutlanders. We must be careful,” Durothil advised me.

I was unfamiliar with this term and thought it was something from Durothil’s native tongue. “What are ‘Sutlanders’? Is it something from your people?”

Durothil said to me that ‘Sutlanders’ were humans who came from the sea. They evidently inhabit lands west across the ocean. Normally, they come from the south and west. They typically come dressed to handle colder weather and seen more in the south. Many people gave them the names ‘South Landers’ or ‘Sutlanders.

He said that they were an aggressive and brutal people who typically made landfall only to attack settlements along the coast. Sometimes, though, they only came to harvest trees. Castien added he had heard that they had tried to establish villages further south. These villages rarely lasted more than a generation.

As elves possess keener eyesight than I do, I could see nothing on the horizon. Even when my guides pointed me where to look. While keeping our position, we waited.

Eventually, I could spy three ships, whose designs I was unfamiliar with, on the water. These were not the canoes, catamarans, fishing, or trading vessels familiar to me in Algan. Two of these ships had curved hulls with a prow and stern that stuck high out of the water and seemed to be driven by a pair of sails. The other’s hull was straight-sided, with only one sail.

My companions and I waited until late afternoon to see where they would land. They made landfall about three or four furlongs from where we were observing them. We used the forest as cover, so we could observe them without being seen. If necessary, we could retreat unnoticed.

When they landed, an estimated eighty Sutlanders, men, women and children, disembarked. Durothil commented that most of them appeared bound, which he added that neither he nor Castien had ever heard of such a thing. They also confirmed that they were all Sutlanders as they bore the blue and black mutilations of their people. While some of the Sutlanders were wearing clothes made of leather and furs, most seemed to have, at most, only pants or rags to wear. The armed Sutlanders gathered the bound ones into a group on the beach and forced them to sit.

I observed several fully clothed Sutlanders, armed with axes, make their way to the edge of the forest and out of sight. Upon seeing this, Castien left us to go back to his people to inform them of what we had witnessed.

I asked Durothil about going to meet and try to talk to the Sutlanders. He advised against it. He explained they were more apt to kill me on sight than to speak with me. A few individuals had tried before only to find out Sutlanders do not normally speak to outsiders who approach them.

We watched as the unbound Sutlanders prepare a camp for themselves, away from the ones who were bound. Soon a few of those who had entered the forest out of our view came back bearing loads of wood. After delivering the wood, they made several campfires. When the others returned, they added the wood they had gathered to the pile already collected and boarded their ships. They soon reemerged, bearing casks and bags.

Through the glare of the setting sun, I could make out the Sutlanders preparing food and standing guard over those I now considered their prisoners. Once the Sutlanders finished eating, they tossed unceremoniously the scraps to their prisoners. While still bound with their arms behind them, they did their best to pick the scraps up and attempt to feed one another.

The autumn night was chill, but Durothil refused to build a fire for fear of alerting the Sutlanders to our presence. We would have to face the cold with nothing more than our cloaks and each other for warmth. He stood guard through the night while I slept. Before I curled up to sleep, I noticed the Sutlanders built a small fire for their prisoners.

The next day when I awoke, I saw that one of the Sutlanders’ longer ships had put back out to sea. I quickly spotted it as it was pursuing what I assume was a small fishing boat, which it quickly overtook. It was not long before the ship returned to the Sutlander camp. Dangling from the prow, I could make out the forms of four people, two men, a woman and a child.

Once beached, the Sutlanders released these new prisoners, and those Sutlanders on board came ashore. One of these was carrying what I initially took for a sack. I was to find out it was an infant. The prisoners from the fishing boat, whose boat was drifting with waves, watched as the Sutlanders throw the babe to one another.

Fortunately, this did not last long as a cry came out from one of the other ships. The Sutlander who now held the child stood motionless while his comrades shuffled about. A figure clad in a dark gray robe emerged from the other longship and came ashore. This figure approached the one holding the infant, who promptly handed the child to them. After taking the child, the figure returned to the ship they had emerged from.

As Durothil was now sleeping, I could not question him about the dark clad individual or why they held sway over the Sutlanders. So I watched in horror as the Sutlanders made sport of the other 4 captives.

I will not describe what they did. Master Inbul once wrote of the horrors that the Torat did to those they captured, which I had thought an exaggeration. After what I witnessed, I now take that as fact. I will only say that those events I had witnessed will haunt me past the next life. I was thankful when those poor souls from the fishing boat finally met their end that evening.

It was mid-day when Castien returned. He had brought back additional supplies and blankets for us, and informed me that he and Durothil were to monitor the Sutlanders from here. Others were watching from other vantage points. He advised me, if we should need to flee, I should run east and south until I came to a large stream. Then I should follow it towards its source.

I asked him about the dark-clad figure and he explained Sutlander parties always had a witch, oracle, or priestess of sorts. This individual seems to be venerated by the Sutlanders and they don’t seem to go against them.

Throughout the day, I thought I heard axes on trees and the occasional crash of something massive. Castien explained the Sutlanders were harvesting trees, but did not know to what end. We soon had some answers.

A group of Sutlanders who had gone into the forest came back to the camp bearing a tree they had felled. After bringing it onto the beach, they returned to the forest. A few of the ones on guard then began hewing the log into measured lengths. They had cords or ropes that they used to determine the necessary length and checked its girth at several points. More Sutlanders appeared, bringing more logs.

This they did until evening, when work stopped so they could eat. Since they were cutting the logs to specific lengths and stacking them accordingly, I speculated that this may be to build a permanent shelter or colony?

This went on for two more days, while my companions would alternate sleeping and keeping watch. At no point did both Durothil and Castien sleep, nor would either build a fire. We had only the blankets to stave off the chill in the air. Through this, the Sutlander prisoners did not seem to make many attempts to free themselves, and they beat those that did without mercy.

On the morning of the fifth day, the Sutlanders began loading the logs they had gathered onto their ships. This seemed to relieve Castien some, as this was not to be a settlement. While loading the logs, the Sutlanders did not force the prisoners to help load the logs and left them sitting on the beach.

While the logs were being loaded onto the long ships, the witch reappeared. She seemed to carry a rod or stick in one hand and a satchel in the other. She went to one campfire and set the rod into the fire. Meanwhile, another Sutlander began dousing the other fires with buckets of sea water. This created a haze which obscured much of their activity. I heard the ding of metal as if a metal nail or spike were being driven into something hard.

When the haze had cleared, I observed two women being tied to something on the far side of the prisoners. They seemed to be forced to clutch something close to their bosom as their hands and arms were in front of them.

Nearby, I could see a Sutlander trying to cleave a rock with an ax. After several blows, he checked the blade of the ax. Satisfied with his work, he had a companion hew off the handle of the ax. He carried the two pieces over to the prisoners and mockingly presented them by dropping them on the ground.

They led another figure off the boat. This one wore a robe of similar fashion to the witch, but in dark brown and had a hood over their head. They led this prisoner to a spot closer to us. One Sutlander guard took the rope that held this new witch bound and seemed to tie it to something in the ground.

The first witch removed the rod she had placed in the fire and approached the second witch, her two guards forcing her into a kneeling position. The two Sutlanders removed the hood and grabbed the second witch by her hair to force her to look at the first witch. When the first witch was standing in front of the second witch, she dropped the satchel she had been carrying. She then took the rod, which I could see the end glowing red, and jab it at the second witch’s face twice. I could not make out any sound that the second witch may have uttered through this. When her guards released her, she slumped to the ground.

I commented to my companions about the second witch being mute. To this, they replied the witch did cry out, but a gag muffled the sound.

The remaining Sutlanders doused the last fire, and they boarded their ships and left, leaving the fifty or so prisoners stranded on the beach. Bound, one injured, and with nothing more than a ruined ax and whatever may be in the satchel.

As the ships were putting out to sea, the main group of prisoners worked feverishly to free themselves. No one cried out to their brethren who had abandoned them. They simply went to work freeing themselves.

Once one of them was free of their bonds, he immediately went to where the witch lay. He gingerly cradled her head as if she were a child as he undid her bonds and gag. Once he removed gag, I could hear her cries of pain. The Sutlander then sat her up and handed her the satchel. She reached inside for something. Upon finding it, he half led, half carried her back to the main group of prisoners, where he helped her find the bonds of their fellows. Afterwards, he went to another prisoner and undid their bonds.

The witch evidently had a knife or dagger because I could see her make a cutting-like motion and the bonded Sutlander was soon free. He then brought another bound Sutlander to the witch and helped her find the bonds before he went to the next one.

Working as such, they soon had freed themselves from their bonds. The two women forced to clutch something to their bosom, I discovered, actually held infants.

The now freed Sutlander prisoners now seemed to take stock of their situation. A couple examined the ruined ax head while a few of the women and most of the children began combing the beach, gathering things. The two women with infants took to tending to their now wounded witch.

After a brief discussion amongst the Sutlanders, the vast majority fanned out and made their way to the forest. It was now that Durothil and Castien advised we should pull back, as trying to track thirty some Sutlanders without being noticed would be difficult. So we began making our way back to a nearby elven village, where we delivered our report about what we had witnessed.

The elves decided it was best I travel south to a human settlement to alert them and for my safety. They would not allow me to go any closer to the coast than what I currently was.

It took me a week to reach the small farming hamlet where I informed the chieftain of the Sutlanders to the north. Since he did not seem to care about Sutlanders, I moved on in pursuit of a location for a bibliotheca for several years.

Once I found a place, a large coastal town called Tenedad, I returned north towards Flaoya. I crossed paths with Durothil and asked what became of the Sutlanders.

He informed me they had moved south and inland, where they tried to set up a settlement. They had initially built a few crude huts to weather the winter, and most had survived by trapping and foraging. Early in the spring, they raided the settlement I had tried to warn and took food, seed and livestock, which they used to provide for themselves.

In the spring, they also took to making a fishing boat that they regularly used, though it did not appear they had much success catching fish. This he attributed to their lack of experience of fishing in the area as they were capable sailors and seemed to show the proper techniques.

Although they demonstrated a fair knowledge of hunting, trapping, farming and other skills necessary to live, they failed to prosper. Durothil only knew of one child born to the Sutlanders in the time they were there.

In their fourth winter, apparently their witch died. Durothil said this seemed to do more damage to the Sutlanders than anything else. They seemed to lose the will to live. Their fields untended, livestock neglected, and their boats and huts fell into disrepair. By the fall, they were starving and by the next spring; they were all gone.

I convinced Durothil to lead me to the remains of the Sutlander village. Though he led me to it, he would not enter as he thought it was folly. I asked him about the location of the boat they had constructed, but he replied they had burned it when one of their men had died.

So I left to examine the remains of the Sutlander settlement alone. It comprised a number of structures and a large penned area with a covered area for livestock.

I examined the construction of the structures. The smaller three, which served utilitarian purposes, were posts set into the ground in an irregular shape and wrapped with branches and covered with thatched roofs. Upon entering them, I discovered the underside of the roofs were also lined with interwoven branches to support the thatching.

In one such structure, I found typical farming implements, while in another the remains of grain reserves. The third appeared to be a smoke house as there were several hooks, both wooden and metal suspended from the roof and a fire pit in the center.

The larger structures had a different construction. They were roughly rectangular, formed by setting larger posts in the corners, and plank siding set to overlap each other. There were a few windows set in them with a cover of planks that were hinged at the top by a leather strap.

Inside, they were sparse as I expected based on what I had seen of these people. In the largest of these buildings, there was a low table dominating the far end of the building. Cluttering the table were wooden plates and bowls and a few clay cups. Initially, they appeared nondescript until I inspected them. The plates I noticed were flat-bottomed and the outer edge had a raised edge, both above and below. Near the center were designs I could not interpret, but they appeared if the Sutlanders had burned them into the wood. The bowls also showed the same construction.

They had glazed the clay cups to show some sort of image before being fired. Based on what I had seen on the beach those years ago, I would have not expected such craftsmanship.

The table was not so low that it required one to sit on the ground to use the table. However, evidence of wear marks on the ground showed many had. At the far end of the table, there were three low stools. Sitting on these would have brought the table up to a more comfortable height. I would say thirty or more people could have sat at the table. There were a number of animal hides and blankets strewn around the table, along with more plates, cups, and bowls.

Hung on the walls were a few wooden shields made of planks. Painted on them were designs similar to those found on the plates and bowls.

The other two large structures, though smaller than the first I entered, bore many of the same details as the one I just described. I surmise that the largest one was the house of their leader, based on its size and its table. The other two were smaller and one lacked a table altogether. These buildings must have housed an extended family structure.

All three structures had a large cooking hearth and a couple of smaller ones. I observed the hearths were just stacked stones with no mortar, nor any chimney. I observed in the roof that there were panels that could be lifted to allow smoke to escape.

Wandering around, I found another structure which I can only think was a combination of black smith and pottery station. I say this as one of the dominant features was a large heath. This one appeared to have hardened clay used as mortar. On one side, there was an arched section that extended away from the main hearth. This appeared to be for firing pottery, as I found shards of pottery along its bottom. I also found a space in the hearth for bellows to blow air into the furnace.

Another dominant feature was a large stone with a relatively flat top that tapered to a point on one end, not unlike the horn of an anvil. The top of the stone had several markings on it, indicating something hot had been beaten on it. Beside this rock were a number of crude hammers, some stone, some of iron. In seeing the iron hammers, I questioned where they got them from or did they produce them themselves? And if the Sutlanders made them, where did they get the iron from?

I continued to explore; I found old discarded fishing nets and a simple loom, now broken. Whatever their actions towards other people might be, I was seeing signs that the Sutlanders were at least advanced in some areas. The more I thought about the furnace, the more I appreciated the ingenuity to use it as both a foundry and a kiln.

The day was waning, so I prepared to leave the settlement. I had hoped to come back with some others of my order so we could study in more detail these Sutlanders. That is when I realized they built the main structure on an east-west line. I discovered this as this was the autumn equinox and the building obscured the setting sun, its shadow following the path that led away from it. I could not determine if this was by coincidence or design.

As I reflect on these Sutlanders, certain things start to become clear to me about them. They are not merely a vicious raiding people from over the sea. They are fierce warriors who should be respected, as the tales dictate, and they can be callous. But they appear quite disciplined, as the prisoners displayed on the beach in working together, systematically to quickly free each other.

Sutlanders also appear to be quite resourceful. It was late in the fall when they first came, and their only supplies and equipment were what was in the witch’s bag. From that, they were able to survive the winter unprovisioned and in a few years’ time, build the beginnings of a settlement.

Their dwellings were not just simple crude huts, but structures with plank siding and some sophistication to vent them.

Yes, they stole, but now I begin to question if raiding is all they know, or if it was out of necessity as they had nothing to trade? After seeing their plates and bowls and cups, I think it was the latter.

In order to answer many of the questions I now have on Sutlanders, it will take another venture into their village. One with others who possess knowledge in areas I do not. It will also take a special set of circumstances in order to open a dialogue with them. However, that may be long in coming, as their actions on this continent have created certain prejudices against them.

Once, people held true that slaves were inferior people to their masters, as they lacked intellect to rise higher. Master Inbul, a former Torat slave himself, was one of those who dispelled that truth, so I hold hope that the preconceptions of the Sutlanders will be dispelled.

[p-s-smith-author]

The Lost Children 

A link to one of my stories 

The Lost Children 

...Before the arrival of the Aranians, the forest of Aran was known among elves as “the forest of lost children” as people used to abandon unwanted children there...

...For some unknown reason, Aran still holds that meaning among the elves of Imneral...

--Master Salman, Sage of Elhrub

--Year 469

The five children were pushing through the forest. They had been picking fresh berries in the glen near their village of Clannet. Following Ulrin’s lead, they had tried to cut through the woods to return home quicker.

Ulrin stopped to look around and get his bearings. He had traveled this way dozens of times, but somehow things didn’t look quite right. His mind raced. They should have already found the sitting stone and be at least within earshot of the stream that would lead them home. But there wasn’t a rock to be found anywhere.

Sila asked “Ulrin, are you ok? Did we go the wrong way?” At seventeen, she was the oldest. Her voice had a hint of worry for the younger children. Especially for Tyllira, who had always been clingy to Sila.

“No,” Ulrin said in reply, half-snapping. “Just started in a different spot than I thought we did.” He tried rubbing his chin to make it seem like he was trying to examine a particular landmark. It only made him look comical.

“Sila, I’m getting cold and hungry. When are we going to get home?” Tyllira said as if she was starting to whine.

Though it was early autumn, some leaves on the trees had already started to turn. The sun was setting and there was a cool chill in the damp air. Sila stepped over to her sister and reached down to adjust her cloak, then rubbed her shoulders and arms briskly to help warm her up. “There Tyllira. And you can eat some berries if you are hungry.”

Ulrin finally picked a direction and was herding the others that way when a gentle, but commanding voice commanded them to stop. The group immediately froze where they were and spun around.

Standing a mere twenty feet from them was a lean girl who appeared to be the same age as Sila. She wore a simple beige tunic with baggy leather pants and a gray cloak pulled back on her shoulders. Her pale complexion marked her as someone who was from more southern parts, or saw little of the sun, and her wavy red hair looked as if she had not combed in quite a while. She looked at the group with her queer, hazel eyes. Her eyes seemed to not register the children and see everything about them all at once. Her silent approach and sudden announcement had caused the children to jump.

“Sorry if I started you. You were about to step on one of my snares. I didn’t want to see one of the little ones get hurt,” she said in a gentle voice.

“Who are you calling little?” said twelve-year-old Tarron, barking back.

As a reply, the newcomer pointed to the ground a couple of feet from Tarron’s feet. Just along the path was a fair size bush with a sapling next to it. The sapling was bent over by a line tied to it. Tarron, realizing how close he had come to stepping into the strange girl’s snare, changed his defiant glare to surprise.

“I haven’t seen you before. Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you one of those Witches?” Ulrin asked, trying to create an air of confidence.

“My manners ... Mother wouldn’t have approved. My name is Ahanna, and my sisters and I are traveling to Aran proper, but have made a camp nearby. The Aranians are our friends, and they dislike being called witches. We treat each other with open arms. Please join us, or at least come with me. My sisters and I have a fire and can share some food with you. We may also be able to guide you home with some supplies, or you may stay the night with us. The choice is yours.”

Ahanna took smooth, gliding steps towards the bush that held her snare. The children, except for Ulrin, all backed away from Ahanna. Ulrin stood where he was, ushering the others behind him with one arm while his free hand fumbled trying to find his knife he kept on his belt.

Ahanna paid him no attention as she unslung her pack and bent down and deftly disarmed her snare. Tied to the pack there were several rabbits, evidently victims of other snares Ahanna had placed. After she undid her snare and put it away, she stood up with her back to Ulrin.

In a barely audible whisper she said, “We will decide who succeeds mother.”

“What was that?” asked Ulrin.

“We… I didn’t say anything,” Ahanna said as she turned towards the group.

“Sounded like you said something.”

“If you are coming, please follow me.” Ahanna started walking along an overgrown game trail.

Sila, with a hand on her sister’s shoulder, was the first to follow. “Thank you for the offer.”

Eidle pulled on Sila’s cloak. “Are you sure? All we have to do is find the stream and follow it back home.”

Ahanna called over her shoulder, “I was by a stream a couple of hours ago. The sun is setting, but you might make it by night if you pressed hard. However, my sisters’ camp won’t take you far off that track.”

“We’re coming,” Ulrin said to Ahanna. “Tyllira could stand a little time by a fire to warm up. At worst, we’ll stay with Ahanna and her sisters tonight. I’ll explain it to your parents that this is all my fault.” The force in his voice cut off any chance at debate.

Again, Ahanna said in a whisper, as if to no one, “Yes, too bad he’ll never get to truly show it,” followed by a dry, little half chuckle.

With that, the group started walking again, following Ahanna. She set a measured pace and seemed sure footed amongst the trees in the dimming light and growing shadows. The pace was easy enough for the children that followed her. Especially for Eidle and Tyllira, since both were starting to tire, but didn’t want to say anything. Instead, they made small talk about what was to be done with the berries they had picked or what trouble they would be in when they got back home. Ahanna kept to herself during their trek. Sometimes, seemingly muttering to herself, and other times talking to someone who wasn’t there about places she’d been.

When the last rays of the sun were fighting to poke through the trees, Ulrin was about to ask how much longer when Ahanna called out. “We have returned, and I’ve brought guests.”

The group entered a small clearing off to the side of an old cart path. In it was a fire pit with a small smoldering fire. Offset over the fire was a kettle and a stand. To one side was a blanket spread on the ground and a little stool sat nearby. Across from that were a couple of mules and a small four wheeled hut wagon, decorated with prayer flags and letters tacked to the outside. Kneeling by the fire, tending to it, was a young woman.

She wore a plain charcoal colored robe with long sleeves of a similar color and material to Ahanna’s cloak. As the group entered the clearing, she looked up for a moment, then bent back over to blow on the embers. After a couple of long measured blows, the fire grew, and the woman added some more wood to it. Soon the fire appeared warm and inviting.

“Ahanna, how did you fare? And who are these children?” the woman asked warmly, as she brushed off her robe as she stood.

“Four rabbits,” Ahanna said in reply, unslinging her pack and showing her catch. “And this is Ulrin, Tarron, Eidle, Sila, and Tyllira,” pointing to each. “They’re from the village nearby. I came across them when I was checking my snares. They were on their way home, but I think they didn’t take the best path. This is my middle sister…. Rhoz.” She seemed to have difficulty with her sister’s name.

Rhoz looked at Ahanna questioningly. With the fire picking up, the children could see Rhoz a little better. Though definitively older than all of them, was only a few inches taller than her younger sister, though not nearly as lean. Her shorter dark hair wasn’t as unkempt as Ahanna’s, and though unable to tell the color of her eyes, they too seemed odd.

“Ahanna, you are too good,” Rhoz said with a small smirk. “But please, come sit. Join us. It has been many years since I have been near here and fortune has smiled on Ahanna. We now have more than enough to share.”

“Thank you, but if we could just warm ourselves for a bit, we’ll be going,” said Ulrin, with a tone of discomfort in his voice.

“But if you stay, you could claim you came upon my sister and I. We bartered with you for a meal and a story of the world and didn’t realize how late it was. But the choice is yours.”

“Ulrin, it wouldn’t hurt for us to eat with them. Tyllira and Eidle are tired and really could use the rest and something to eat,” implored Sila.

“We can’t stay too long. We’re already late and in enough trouble,” he said. More uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“You said earlier we might stay the night with them.”

“That was before,” his voice trailed off to a whisper, “they seem queer, odd. I don’t feel comfortable around them.”

Tarron interjected, “They do seem strange, but decent. Ahanna seemed to say they were always traveling, so they may not be like most people we see. And they’re friends with the Witches.”

“Fine,” Ulrin said, now annoyed, “we’ll stay and eat with them. Then we need to get going.”

While the three were discussing what to do, Rhoz and Ahanna had the rabbits on spits over the fire and a couple more blankets laid on the ground for them to sit on. Beside the blanket was an old lantern and a couple of water skins.

Sila said to Rhoz, “We’ve decided to join you. If the offer is still extended, that is.”

“It is. For when you leave.” Rhoz pointed to the lantern and skins. “But first, we barter for it.” She flashed an impish grin.

“But we don’t have ...,” started Ulrin.

“I think four raspberries would be a fair offer for food, tales and a lantern,” Rhoz said, before Ulrin could finish.

“Four raspberries?” asked Tyllira. “How do you know we have any? “

“This far from your village alone, you were probably out picking berries. If four is too high, then three?”

Quickly, Tyllira said, “Three is good. I have got enough for everyone!” with a big grin on her face. She immediately reached into her sack and started pulling raspberries out.

“One, two, three, four…”

“You agreed to three raspberries for the lot, not three for each of you,” Rhoz said to Tyllira. Playful in her response.

Tyllira handed over three raspberries and Rhoz took them and immediately ate one, and put the other two in a small cup that sat next to the stool.

“A good tale, no matter how tall, should have a grain of truth to it,” she advised, with a bit of a mischievous grin to Tyllira. The little girl beamed back her own smile.

The five village children made themselves comfortable on the blankets. Rhoz tended the rabbits and the small cauldron that had been sitting next to the fire. Her manners made all the children, except for Ulrin, relax. He was still somewhat on edge, but seemed less so as Rhoz tended to everything. Ahanna seemed to have disappeared through all this.

Not long after, everything was ready. Rhoz served the children a warm stew of carrots and turnips with a fair portion of rabbit and a couple of slices of coarse bread. She then got some for herself and sat on the stool and ate.

“Rhoz, ma’am. Can I ask why your wagon is decorated that way? If it isn’t impolite,” Tarron asked somewhat sheepishly.

Rhoz’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the boy as her face changed from the playful visage that she had shown so far to a very serious tone.

“Your question is born from the darkness of ignorance. In that darkness you have a candle, and only seek fire to light it and push back the darkness.” Rhoz’s expression changed again to one more somber. “My mother died a week ago. My sister and I are taking her back to Aran so that her friends there can say their farewells. Those flags and letters are prayers, blessings and curses from those she had met during her life.”

“I… I’m…,” said Tarron. “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect.” Slightly bowing his head.

Rhoz’s expression softened to one of consolation. “None taken. We’ve traveled in many lands and different people have different customs. It is good to learn these things as it helps bring people closer.”

“But why would someone curse your mother?” Tyllira asked. “That seems like a mean thing to do.”

Rhoz said in explanation, “That was my mother’s wish. She knew, in life, some people liked her and some didn’t. It did not matter to her as she walked the path of her life. And so in the afterlife, she wanted to show she accepted people as they were. It all speaks to who she was. Both good and bad.”

Eidle said, “Why not just stick her in a hole when she died? That’s what we do.”

“Eidle!” exclaimed Sila.

Ulrin smacked him on the back of the head. “That was rude, Eidle. Especially after Rhoz and Ahanna have fed us and let us warm up by their fire. Rhoz already said they were taking her to Aran so her friends could say their farewells. And did you not hear her say different people have different ways of doing things?”

Sila took the chance to change the subject for fear of offending their host. “It seems like you have traveled a good deal. I’m sure you have lots of interesting stories from other parts. Could you tell us some things you’ve seen?”

“Too many lands and too many tales to choose from. But tell me, do you know how the Seeress was born?”

The children looked at Rhoz, puzzled. Tarron finally spoke up. “A god ate his human mistress to hide the fact he was unfaithful. His wife found out and split his head open and the Seeress, the daughter of the mistress he ate, was born.”

“Oh, that sounds like that is a good story. One I would like to hear, but at another time,” said Rhoz with a laugh. “But for now, I will tell you how I heard she came to be.”

***

The story of the Seeress starts before she came to be with a woman named Amber. When Amber was three, her parents died during a plague in the old trade town of Mins. Her uncle, the sage Talal, saved her.

Talal took Amber back to his home, where he and his wife raised her as their own since they had no children. At first, Amber was withdrawn, as she wanted her mother and couldn’t understand who this man and woman were and why she couldn’t be with her mother.

Still, Talal and his wife cared for Amber, and slowly Amber adjusted to her aunt and uncle, and her new surroundings. As she became more comfortable, Amber learned to be very inquisitive about everything.

In the years that followed, Amber showed a thirst for learning. She would spend hours with her uncle and aunt having discussions asking questions about all subjects, from the material to the philosophical. She took this all in and hungered for more.

As her uncle was a sage in the service of the Duke of Toba, he would often have visitors from the court, or her uncle would have to travel to where the Duke was. When she was about ten, her uncle received an unusual visitor.

The visitor was an aelf dignitary, Willoaw, and her nephew Kelital, who appeared to be about the same age as Amber. Though Willoaw had a matter to discuss with Talal, it was more of a social call, as they had formed a strong friendship in Duke’s court before Amber was born.

This was the first time Amber had met aelves. She had been studying everything that her uncle had on them and had longed to meet them. When her uncle and Willoaw had gone to his study to talk, Amber took the chance to talk with her first elf.

Things didn’t go well as they did not have a common language between them. She was flustered that she couldn’t learn more about aelves first hand simply because she couldn’t talk to him. So, she attempted to say, “My name is Amber. It is a pleasure to meet you,” in Aelvish.

Much to her surprise, Kelital stood up and started speaking in furious tones to Amber. Shocked at his reaction, Amber was unsure what happened. Soon Willoaw and Talal came into the room wanting to know what the commotion was.

Kelital explained to his aunt what happened. This brought a bit of a puzzled look to Willoaw, who asked Amber what she said.

Amber said, “I was trying to speak with Kelital and we don’t know a common language. I have been studying Aelvish, so I tried to tell him it was a pleasure to meet him.”

“What exactly did you say to him?” asked Willoaw.

“I said ‘My name is Am…’”

“No, what did you say in Aelvish?”.

Confused, Amber repeated what she had told Kelital. This caused Willoaw to burst out into laughter. After a few minutes, Willoaw spoke with her nephew, who lowered his head in shame.

With a smile, Willoaw said, “Our ears hear the slightest of inflections and are part of our languages. So instead of saying ‘My name is Amber. It is a pleasure to meet you,’ you actually said something more like ‘I am Amber the queen and you are a pile of dung.’”

This drew a surprised chuckle from her uncle. “Excuse her, she only has books to try to learn your language from.”

Amber was so embarrassed at insulting her guest. She had wanted to learn about aelves first hand, but ended up putting her uncle’s guests off.

“Amber, you did nothing wrong. It is difficult for humans to learn our tongue because of its subtleties, even when we try to teach them. But you made a fair attempt without ever hearing our speech before, so I am confident that you could learn to speak our tongue if you had a tutor. And I will make it my duty to do so while we are here, if your uncle will permit me.”

During the aelves’ visit over the next few weeks, Willoaw worked with Amber, who proved to be a quick study. Within a week she had not only learned hundreds of Aelvish words and inflections, she had mastered them. It amazed Willoaw at how quickly she was learning, and she began working with Amber on Eldrane, another Aelvish language.

By the time the guests left, Amber could reasonably converse in two aelvish languages. She had also made amends with Kelital and started what she had hoped would be a long friendship.

Over the next few years, she began assisting her uncle in his work and sometimes even accompanying him to court. There, she impressed the courtesans with her knowledge. Some even joked the duke could do away with Talal and make Amber his new sage.

When she was sixteen, Talal received a new visitor, Migsu. An eighteen-year-old boy with sharp good looks and bearing papers that the duke had requested Talal take him as a student. His attitude seemed somewhat bitter towards his task, but otherwise seemed nice enough.

After three years, Talal tasked Migsu and Amber to go to Mount Imneral to deliver a message to the aelves there and collect herb specimens. The two packed their horses and set off for Mins.

About an hour into their trip, Migsu’s horse started faltering. Upon examining the animal, Migsu said it had thrown a shoe. He advised Amber to go on and he would catch up with her on the way to Mins, and he would go to a nearby hamlet to get his horse reshoed. With that, they parted company.

It wasn’t until the next day Migsu caught up with Amber. When he arrived, he seemed distant and even more bitter than was his norm. When she asked him if something was amiss, he claimed nothing was wrong.

The next day they were in Mins, and after a further five days, they reached the foot of Mount Imneral.

At Amber’s suggestion, they started looking for the herbs first as the aelves revere Mount Imneral. The aelves believe the mystical Spring of the World flows there and the aelves may not readily approach outsiders. By looking for the herbs first, they could show the aelves they meant no harm. Thus, they might encounter them more quickly rather than searching for them first.

On the fourth day of their expedition, they encountered an elf. Before Amber could greet him, he ran over to her and asked, “Are you the lady Amber, niece to the sage Talal?”

“Yes. I’m…,” she started to say.

“No time. You must come with me and I will explain all. Your uncle, I’m afraid, was murdered and you may be in danger.”

“Murdered? When? How?” she stammered. Her face pale and her mouth hung open.

“A fire. Please…” the elf’s words abruptly cut off. Migsu was standing behind the elf, his eyes cold as he slit the elf’s throat.

Amber backed away in pure horror as she looked at what Migsu had done.

“When? About ten days ago. How? By my hand,” Migsu said with ice in his voice. “Let me guess, your next question: Why? Payback to my father, the Duke.”

Confusion overtook Amber. She continued to back away from Migsu while he spoke. “You see, my mother was a commoner that the Duke seduced. This happened before he became Duke and married, so to hide his transgression, my mother and I were hidden and he denied my existence.”

“When my mother died when I was sixteen, I vowed I would have what should be mine by birth. So I started engaging the right people to get close to the Duke to make him acknowledge who I was. When I finally confronted him, he acknowledged I was his son, but could not do so openly. Nor could he let me ascend to the throne. So instead, he sought to make me a sage to advise my younger half-brother, his legitimate son.”

“And now, after five years, I make my move. I have the allies to take what is mine, and your uncle was but the first step, and you, Amber, will be the second as my wife. Without his great sage to guide him and you at my side, my father will fall.”

“Run Amber,” a voice called in Aelvish out a split second before something went whizzing. It struck Migsu on the side of the head, stunning him.

Amber turned and fled as Migsu swore and staggered. In a moment, he was fast on her trail. Fear gripped her as she tried to outrun her pursuer. When she turned her head to see how far behind he was, she tripped on a root, causing her to fall, and hit her head on a rock. Darkness quickly surrounded her as she passed out.

When she awoke, she found herself on a cot in a hut, with a vaguely familiar elf sitting beside her.

“I see my dung heap awakens,” the elf said.

“Kelital. Is that you?” asked Amber as she tried to sit up. Immediately, she got very dizzy and nearly passed out again.

“Yes, it is me. Lay back. How is your head?”

That was when she realized how badly her head hurt. “What happened? Where are we?”

“We are in an Aranian camp. You hit your head and have been unconscious for four days. Who was that with you?”

“That was Migsu, my uncle’s student. He claims he is the duke’s…,” she paused, trying to think of the Aelvish word for “illegitimate.”

“Son but not son,” was the best she could come up with. “What became of him?”

“After you fell, I hit him again, and he ran off. He made it to his horse and escaped,” Kelital said, lowering his face. “Bad fortune I was hunting pheasants and not deer. I had a pellet bow with me, otherwise I would have crippled him, and he would be awaiting judgment. But you are safe. Rest.”

Amber did as she was told and fell into a troubled sleep. She dreamed of Migsu killing her aunt and uncle with a knife before burning their mansion down around them. In another, she saw a woman she did not know in childbirth. Other dreams were full of people and places she did not recognize.

It was another two days before Amber felt well enough to stand up and attempt to walk outside of the hut. In that time, a couple of Aranians and their Ma’hal came to tend to her. When she stepped outside, the light blinded her and she became dizzy.

“Steady,” said a woman, grabbing her.

After a few seconds, Amber’s head cleared, and her eyes adjusted. She looked at the woman who had grabbed her. It was the woman from one of her dreams.

“Thank you, I’m better now. Is your child alright?”

“Other than this bugger squirming day and night like an eel out of water, I think so. What makes you ask?” the woman said, eyeing Amber oddly.

“I’m not sure. Concern, I think.”

“I think that bump on your head may have addled your mind some.”

A few days later, in the evening, Amber met with the Ma’hal, Kelital, and Willoaw who had arrived an hour before. They sat in consul about Migsu, Talal and Amber and all that had transpired. Amber and Kelital explained what happened a week prior. Willoaw relayed Migsu was most likely the son of the Duke, and since Talal’s murder, someone had attacked the Duke’s legitimate son. He survived, but had gone into hiding. She feared that this was the beginning of a coup.

“It is not safe for Amber to go back,” Willoaw pointed out. “Though the Duke and his court think highly of her, she would be a marked person.”

The Ma’hal narrowed her eyes and said, “True, she would be in danger if she went back. But she is in danger here too, though not nearly as much. If this Migsu takes control, how would he look upon Amber then?” The Ma’hal stopped mid-sentence to spit when she spoke his name.

“Are you saying you would turn her out?” asked Willoaw.

“I will not forget my duty as an Aranian. All who seek help and shelter are welcome. As Ma’hal, though, I must protect this camp and danger follows her. But how far does that danger extend to those around her?”

“Aunt Willoaw, can she not come with us?” asked Kelital.

“I wish it were so. If I were still an envoy to Toba or advisor to the Counsel, we could shield her. Could Amber not go to another Aranian camp?”

“It would put them at risk.”

The four discussed things further and Amber decided, “Since I may endanger those around me, I will leave and go to Jun’kar and seek refuge there.”

This set off a fresh round of discussions, initially trying to change her mind. Then on how best for her to get there since she would need to cross all of Aran. She would travel between Aranian camps, sometimes alone, sometimes accompanied by Aranians. During this time, she learned many ways of the Aranians.

Along the way, she had strange dreams and visions of events she could not make sense of. When she reached the Aranian camp closest to Jun’kar, the Ma’hal there asked if she was well. Through her travels through Aran, Amber had learned to trust the Ma’hals implicitly, and she explained to the Ma’hal about the visions.

The Ma’hal told Amber, “We are far enough from Toba and Mins that the danger is not as great. If you would risk it, stay for a while. These visions seem to be weighing on you. I can try to teach you how to manage your dreams.”

Amber stayed and slowly discovered how to manage these visions. And she realized her dreams were glimpses of the future or events of other places.

Three years had passed since her uncle’s murder when the Aranians received a visitor. It was Willoaw with news about Toba. The Duke had prevailed against Migsu, but it forced the Duke and his family to give up their seat. The new Duke had ordered Migsu’s execution and allowed the former Duke to keep some holdings, but it was now safe for Amber to return home.

This news brought a measure of relief to Amber. “All that I treasured there is now gone, and the leaf has blown too far to return to the forest. I now want to see more of this world, and I know I have much to offer it,” she said in response.

Amber’s statement saddened Willoaw, but she was also happy that it seemed Amber had found a purpose for herself. A few days later, they made their farewells.

In the spring four years later, Amber accompanied some Aranians to a town not far outside of Aran. When asked why she wanted to come with them, Amber said, “There is someone there I need to see.” This brought an odd look from the Aranians, but they did not question her.

While in town, a group of Aranians encountered a tavern maid who implored them to take her five-year-old daughter as she was possessed. That the Aranians will accept unwanted children is a well-known fact, though they had not heard of one being possessed before. Still, they agreed to take the child.

The child did not want to be with her mother and did not want to go with the Aranians as she kicked and screamed constantly at them. When the Aranians rejoined those who were with Amber, the girl’s demeanor instantly changed. She ran over to Amber and threw her arms around her, and started behaving like a normal child.

Later, when out of town, the Aranians asked how Amber could get the girl, named Xemera, to calm down so easily. Amber said in explanation, “It was she who I was going to see. Somehow, and ask no more of it, there is a connection between us.”

Amber and Xemera stayed with the Aranians for a couple more years. During this time, Xemera started referring to Amber as ‘mother’ and the Aranians learned that Xemera, too, had visions like Amber. Amber began teaching Xemera what she knew from her uncle, the Aranians, and how to control the visions. Finally, it was time for Amber and Xemera to leave.

“We must go, Ma’hal. I sense there is a girl to be born that will need me.”

The Ma’hal hugged both Amber and Xemera and said, “I had hoped one day you would have become one of us, but I see that is not to be. Go with my blessings and the knowledge that all Aranians will always welcome you and yours.”

They parted company and Amber led Xemera for several months to the south till they came upon a town. There they had found a young, pregnant woman living on the streets because her family had cast her out for conceiving a child out of marriage. The woman miss-took Amber for an Aranian and begged her to take the child. Amber explained she wasn’t an Aranian, but she would take the child as its fate was intertwined with hers.

The woman had a girl and a few weeks after giving birth said she would return to her family as they would now surely take her back. Xemera told Amber this was not wise as the woman’s family would sell her to a slaver. The woman should travel to the country where she saw a lonely farmer who would treat the woman like a queen. The pair tried to explain this to the woman who said she would think about it, but the next morning they found her gone.

When Amber, Xemera, and the baby they named Deragel left a week later, they passed a slave caravan and saw Deragel’s mother in chains.

For nearly twenty years, Amber and her daughters traveled the land. She found three more girls in that time who became her daughters. The girls grew up and learned to harness their powers of sight, though Amber’s power reigned supreme.

Also during this time, rumors had started of an odd woman and her strange daughters. Rumors that they could foresee the future and would counsel and console people. But they had also stolen baby girls.

One evening, Deragel announced it was time for them to go home.

Amber’s youngest daughter, who was five, said, “Go home? Mother is our home, so we are home.”

To this Xemera said, “Home to Aran where mother’s journey first started.”

“Yes, I think it is time,” Amber agreed. “It is getting close for me to end all this traveling.”

The next morning, they started making their way to Aran. When they arrived, the Aranians met with open arms. The Aranians held a grand dinner in their honor while Amber and the Ma’hal sat up late into the night talking.

The next morning, they discovered Amber had left this world in her sleep.

A few days later, while funeral arrangements were being made, the Ma’hal called Xemera and Deragel to her hut.

“Your mother confided in me the night you came that it would be her last in this world,” started Ma’hal. “She wanted to plan for you and your sisters and to deliver instructions to the both of you.”

“Amber believed something changed in the world in her time and your powers of vision are proof. She also believed that with her passing, there is a void. One of you must take on your mother’s powers to try to fill it. As for your sisters, they are to remain in Aran for a while before leaving to set their own paths. To be oracles, perhaps, as they may retain some of their gifts.”

“Deragel, you shall succeed mother and I will remain here with our sisters. Though I am older, you are truly her first. I should have left a few years ago and started my own path.”

“But you should succeed mother, she listened to your counsel more than mine. Also, you are a better teacher than I,” protested Deragel.

“Mother only seemed to listen to me. She had already made her mind up. I only echoed her own thoughts. With you, you pushed each other to think harder. To look deeper and build each other’s confidence in yourselves. I will remain either here or in Mins, ready to help as I can.”

Deragel sat in silence, contemplating her sister’s words. “Then how do I succeed our mother?”

“When the time comes, it will come,” was the Ma’hal’s response. “A few instructions your mother left for you and your sisters. First, do not congregate for long. You may visit, but do not linger. Your younger sisters still need guidance, so Xemera staying here with them is fine until it is time for them to leave.”

“Second, none of you should bear children of your own. She would not say why, but I could tell the prospect terrified her.”

“For you Deragel, since you will succeed your mother, continue her journey. She believed your powers will grow once you succeed her, but she would still be with you to help guide you. She taught you much, so carry it on. Find the girls born with powers like yours and teach them.”

It was a fortnight after Amber passed they held her funeral. In the days before, several other Ma’hals came to pay their respects, along with a few aelves. Kelital and Willoaw among them.

When it was time, the sisters, except for Deragel, each lit a torch. They then went to Deragel, and together, lit the torch she was holding. Deragel approached her mother’s pyre and lit it. As the flames grew, everyone in attendance said a prayer for Amber.

Deragel made ready to leave a few days later. She said her farewells to the Ma’hals and the aelves who had come. “I will pass these woods again before my journey is done.”

She resumed her mother’s travels. In her travels, the rumors of her mother grew and took a new turn. No longer did they talk of a middle-aged, yellow-haired woman with strange daughters. But of a lone raven-haired young woman.

And after several decades, when Deragel left this world and passed her powers to one of her daughters, it was she who first became known as the Seeress.

***

By the time Rhoz finished her tale, the sun had completely set and the sky, where visible through the trees, was black. The children had sat totally enraptured through Rhoz’s story and had not noticed the fire had burned low again.

“Thanks for the meal and the story, but it’s dark and we must go,” Ulrin said, urgently pulling his cloak and arm from around Sila. “Some of our parents will be worried we are so late. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were out looking for us now.”

Eidle looked around and asked, “Where is Ahanna? I don’t think I’ve seen her since we sat down to eat.”

“She went towards your village to let your parents know you are safe. Should she meet any of them on the way there, she will lead them back here,” Rhoz said, as she put a couple more logs on the fire.

As if out of nowhere, Ahanna stepped into the edge of the firelight. “And I have returned. I encountered Oloak, Effreil and Renel from Clannet and brought them here. They were looking for the children.”

Tyllira immediately jumped up and ran towards three men that had just stepped into the firelight. When she got to them, she threw her arms around one of the men’s waist and exclaimed, “Papa!”

“Yes little one, I’m here,” the man spoke with a tone of relief in his voice. Putting his arms around her, he said, “I wouldn’t let you spend the night out in the forest without being nearby.” He then turned his gaze towards Ulrin and, with a sneer on his face, said, “You will answer for this. If it were left to me, I’d wear your hide clean through here and now for getting my daughters lost.”

“Effreil, that is enough,” one of the other men said in a stern voice as he pointed at Effreil. “Right now we’ve found the children safe, as Ahanna said they would be. That is what matters. We’ll settle the rest at home in the morning.”

“Oloak is right,” the third said. “My Tarron was out here with your daughters, unless you’ve gone dumb.”

Ulrin stood up at this. “I convinced everyone to stay a little later than we should have been picking berries and to cut through the forest to get home. But I started us down the wrong path. It is my fault, I should not have tallied to begin with. It was a poor choice,” he said, standing straight.

The three men looked at Ulrin, and Effreil renewed his stern gaze on him. Renel’s expression was impassive towards the boy, while Oloak showed any sign of mercy towards Ulrin.

“Sirs, it is my fault you had to come looking for them. They were on their way home when they stumbled on my camp here. I waylaid them with food and talk as my sister and I seldom have company. When I realized how late it was, I sent my sister out to let you know they were safe.”

Effreil, still scowling, looked at his other daughter. “Sila?”

“Yes, father. We came upon the camp and Rhoz here insisted that we stay and at least eat since we’d been picking berries all day. Also, Tyllira and Eidle were getting tired and cold.”

This answer seemed to ease Effreil some. Oloak turned to Rhoz. “Thank you for watching the kids. Ahanna told us about your mother. I can understand wanting company other than your sister, especially after your loss. Though you should have either made it brief, or accompanied them to the village.”

Reaching for his belt pouch, “Still, a few coins should be compensation for the meal.”

“No need, as Tyllira bartered for it. She is a shrewd trader and I don’t wish to sit across from her again anytime soon,” Rhoz said with her sly smile and a quick nod to Tyllira. She held her hand up to decline the offer.

This caused a puzzled look on three men’s faces. Effreil looked first at Sila, then Tyllira. “What did you have to trade with?”

“Raspberries Papa. She wanted raspberries. So I traded some with her,” Tyllira said with glee.

“And you had enough?”

“It only took three raspberries, Papa, and I got us a lantern and a couple of water skins.”

“This true?” questioned Effreil with a grin appearing on his face towards his young daughter.

“Yes, it is true,” Rhoz said with her impish grin.

Renel broke in, “If we can get a start, we can make it back home to get some sleep before dawn. The fields won’t harvest themselves. Tarron, grab the lantern and skins and bring them to me. Then get the rest of your things. Eidle, you too.”

“Girls, get your things.”

All five children obeyed. Ahanna helped Eidle get his things situated while Sila took her sister’s things to add to her own. In a few minutes, they were ready to head home with the men.

Oloak stepped over to Rhoz. “Again, thank you for looking out for the kids and sending you sister to tell us. I think you told us a bit of a tale there, but enough of it rings true to not squabble over it. You be careful going to Aran. The women there, your mother’s friends, are a strange lot. Not bad mind you, just different, and that makes some folks outside Aran a bit suspicious of them.” He paused and signed heavily, “Especially after Seeress came and said my only daughter, my Rose, was hers and took her.” There was no bitterness or regret in his voice, only longing.

“I am sorry to hear of your loss, but I am sure if your daughter went with the Seeress, then your daughter is well. It was actually a pleasure to have the children for a while. Between us, I think I got the better end of the deal out of Tyllira, as I had some others to talk to other than my sister. But your point is taken. It is said that my sister and I are ‘strange.’ Thanks for the concern.”

“Thank you for your sympathy and your hopes. Most would not view me so kindly for what has happened to my family.”

After a few minutes, the three men had gotten the kids loaded up and the lantern lit. The villagers said their farewells and left Rhoz and Ahanna. In turn, the three men each put their hand on the wagon and bowed their heads for a moment before they started down the path. The sisters soon sat down by the fire and stared into the flames for quite a while.

Rhoz finally broke the silence, “Tula, please come join us,” she called to the wagon.

From inside, a hand pulled the curtain on the back of the wagon to one side. Soon, emerging from the wagon, was a figure wearing a well worn sleeveless green robe. She steadied herself as she stepped down, barefoot, to the ground. She was dark-skinned and a full head-and-half taller than Ahanna and Rhoz, though leaner than Ahanna. Her robe came up almost mid-calf. She took a black woolen shawl from the wagon and draped it over her bare shoulders.

“Yes sister, join us. How did your meditation go?” asked Ahanna, beckoning her sister.

“Well, but I am having a problem focusing,” said Tula wearily.

“Eat then,” said Rhoz. “There is stew and rabbit left and I secured you a raspberry from those kids.” A smile passed her lips as she handed each of her sisters one of the remaining berries.

“Thank you. Are you trying to bribe your way out of something?” Tula said in a playful manner. “Ahanna, I don’t think you’ve eaten this evening either.”

“I had some bread while I was going to find the children’s parents, but nothing proper. You first and I’ll eat later. And why did you not come out sooner or was your meditation that deep?” inquired Ahanna.

“Why did you call Rose ‘Rhoz’?” Tula said, responding to Ahanna’s question with one of her own. She joined her sisters at the fire and began to eat.

Ahanna blanched slightly at the question. “I… they, the voices of the mothers, no mother’s voice said ‘conceal her’. So I called her ‘Rhoz’ rather than ‘Rose.’”

Rose said, facing Tula, “She called me ‘Rhoz’ in part for the same reason you stayed in the wagon. To help conceal who our mother was and who we are. I was born in that village and Oloak is my father.”

Turning towards Ahanna, she said, “You and I appear close enough to pass as sisters to outsiders. However, Tula’s complexion compared to ours would raise questions. As mother is no longer with us, we must be careful and avoid unnecessary questions for the time.”

The other two sat in silence and both nodded in agreement at this.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you that I got to meet my father,” Rose said, lowering her head.

Tula stopped eating for a moment. “That you met your father bothers me no more than knowing that Sila and Tyllira will have their own children, while I shall have none. I long accepted there were consequences for being what I am. Chance doesn’t present itself the same to everyone.”

“But I envy you,” said Ahanna, her lips and cheeks taunt. “You at least got to see your father. Tula’s parents were murdered because she was born what she is, so that opportunity for her could never come. And in a few days, mother will be in Aran and we will part company. Any chance to see my father or the woman who bore me into this world will most likely be gone forever. I would like to know who they are and that they are well.” Both Rose and Tula reached out to their younger sister and put their hands on her shoulders.

She then signed heavily and her tone softened. “But I also rejoice for you. No matter how brief or seemingly insignificant, you got to know who your father is,” taking her sisters’ hands in her own. “I hope he is what you envisioned he would be.”

“However, they are asking who will succeed mother. We must make a choice,” Ahanna’s voice trailing off. Her eyes glazing over as she stared into the fire.

“Yes, we must,” Tula said. “But you realize we’ve condemned Ulrin to die within a week,” turning to face Rose.

“I am aware,” Rose said sullenly, turning her gaze away from her older sister. Her normally warm face lost all hint of expression.

“He is brash and reckless,” Ahanna said, “Not uncommon for a boy his age. But he showed signs of maturity of one who could be a good provider and person. The mothers and I thought intervening might help nurture that. I would not have brought them if I knew it would damn him.”

“His fate was set. We only chose the shorter string. Had they stayed the night, he and Effreil would have seen three more years before they would have died hunting down the Seeress for taking their daughter and granddaughter. As it is, he will die by a snake within a few days. You hear and heed the mothers well, but their sight with you is weak,” Tula pointed out to Ahanna.

“But what of the girl, Sila?” asked Rose. Turning to look at her older sister with questioning eyes. “What did your sight show you about her fate?”

Tula stared at the fire for a moment before saying, “I see a well-lived life of a beloved mother and grandmother.”

“Yes, she will be a good person and much loved. It is the normal fate of those of her nature,” confirmed Ahanna.

“Though neither mothers’ sight, nor their wisdom, is strong with me, I know had they stayed, she too would have perished. She and Ulrin would have borne a Daughter of the Seeress. In losing her daughter, her husband and her father, Sila would have withered and died of mourning,” Rose said.

“I did not see that,” Tula responded.

“Because the die has now been cast, and you did not look past the boy,” stated Rose.

“Is it what you foresaw for her before they left, or was it mother’s insight?” asked Ahanna.

“It is what I sensed will happen, from mother’s insight, if they stayed. And, you both now have confirmed it. It is her nature to care deeply for others. Thus, being as beloved by family as you have seen, too loose so much I fear that would destroy her.”

“To lose only one she is fond of now, she is strong enough to recover from,” Ahanna said, nodding in agreement. “You are most likely correct in that.”

Tula then closed her eyes in deep reflection on this. “It would have been easier had mother made the choice for us. I feel though she taught us as much as possible, it is nothing compared to the gulf of what we need to learn.”

Ahanna replied, “That is why they say we must choose. Mother and the others say mother’s full powers are divided amongst us. Once we choose, that one will have our mother’s full power. Her power of vision, her insight, and the wisdom and experiences of those who came before us. Divided, those powers will not let us move forward.”

Tula again closed her eyes and after a few minutes she drew in a deep breath before speaking:

The mighty oak to stand guard, A single flower to protect. The flower never came. But from an acorn, A lily bloomed under the branches Of another Oak.

Tula then turned to her sisters and said, “I think we’ve made our decisions, though we may not know it yet. And yes, Rose, I will.”

[p-s-smith-author]

Two Dark Paths  

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me." 

Two Dark Paths  

[p-s-smith-author]

"Daughter" 

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me." 

"Daughter"