your salvation. You would have died in the city’s pyre, but instead you are now pursuing a greater goal.”
“But… don’t you care about your own life? I wasn’t there to save you! You paid the price for my mistakes!” he said, tears running down his cheeks.
“My death saved your life, and in your life there will be glory. You have to find out who you really are. You will find the answers you seek, but not now. I see through to your troubled soul, and to my delight, I see you have not changed,” she smiled sweetly.
“I understand what you’re telling me… I have to silence the woes of my past. Just like Clarice said.”
“Exactly. My spirit is at peace, and I will continue to guide you, as I have done so far, Brother. Now I see inside you; I see who you are. See you soon,” she said, reaching a hand for his face. Kaj felt a cold gust when his fingers touched it, and then, she dissolved as quickly as she had appeared.
“No! Alana! Wait! Don’t go away!” he shouted despondently. “Don’t leave me…” his voice trailed off.
“Kaj, what’s going on? I heard you scream!” said Clarice, emerging from the cave.
“You wouldn’t understand! She was… she was here! She arose from the water; there was a silvery light, and then she appeared! I swear it!” he said muddle-headedly, pointing to where she had appeared.
“Calm down! Who was here?” Clarice took him by the arm, trying to calm him down.
“My sister…” He lowered his eyes. Deciding he had to tell her what had happened, he tromped sulkily toward the fire to warm himself.
“Did her essence appear to you from the stream’s waters? You are one of the few who can make that claim,” said the elf, following him there; she looked at him with equal parts admiration and disbelief.
“I have to tell you what happened. Maybe it’ll help with what’s been plaguing me.” He leaned over to pick up his old diary, and opened it to show Alana’s portrait to Clarice, who formed a high opinion of her traveling companion’s drawing skills. The young woman had long straight hair, a dainty face, a sweet smile, cheerful and deep eyes, and a contented expression. A delicate necklace dangled from her slender neck.
“There used to be trouble among some groups of criminals in Lochbis. Their dealings were damaging the city’s economy, and city guards often turned a blind eye in exchange for bribes. I’d frequently visit Freh’s ore market, though sometimes we needed other, more hard-to-find wares, so I’d go sometimes to the large market in Varlas, too. One day, I’d returned from Freh, tired and hungry. I couldn’t wait to get home. I wasn’t paying enough attention to what was going on around me, and a group of bandits attacked me. I fought back, but they stole a lot. The losses were substantial, and when my father went to complain to the guards, they told him that he should be thankful I was still alive.” He sighed. “Long story short: they tried to steal weapons from the smithy, but unfortunately for them, I was there. I killed all three of them. Once I heard the guards, I cleaned up the scene, and then I recognized their tattoos: they were the same symbols that I had seen on the bandits outside the city. I found others from the same gang and killed them without thinking about the consequences. Then, one day, I found a note hanging on the smithy door that mentioned Alana. I rushed home, and when I opened the door…” His voice trembled a little. He got a lump in his throat, and his eyes began to moisten. Clarice was listening quite attentively. Kaj got up to take a sip of water and try to calm down.
“Don’t repress your feelings; it’ll only make things worse.”
“It’s better this way,” he said. He sat down and continued: “She was dead.” His voice was still choked, and a tear ran down his cheek. “The note on Alana’s body read: ‘Eye for an eye.’ I found out to my bitter chagrin that one of the bandits I had killed was the son of the gang’s leader. If nothing else, thanks to that, the corrupt guards were arrested and hanged.” Kaj clenched his fists. “The message was addressed to our parents, but it was my fault,” he concluded.
“I never would have imagined,” she admitted, visibly affected. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Trying not to burst into tears, he asked: “How was Alana able to show herself to me?”
“Most of these streams originate from the glaciers of the Hallowed Heights. These waters are full of the ancient and powerful magic that can be found there. They say only those on journeys of self-discovery can see loved ones or benevolent spirits. Those spirits can show people the way forward, or warn them about some personal shortcoming or imminent mistake they’re about to commit. Some believe that what’s actually appearing is the essence of the god Luhreil, who takes on a familiar appearance, or that they can arouse trust in the person who sees them.” Her words did not cause Kaj’s anxiety to abate. He was still in shock, and he still felt Alana’s cold fingers on his cheek. “Whatever happened to me, it’ll take me a while to digest.”
“Cilna reminds you of her, doesn’t she?”
Kaj nodded. “Yeah… she looks a lot like her…” He was clearly upset; he couldn’t make heads or tails of what had happened. He had always been a realist and skeptic, and apart from magic, he had never given credence to anything related to gods and divine manifestations. Clarice respected his mood, and knew she had to leave him alone for a while.
Far from the forest, much further east, Sheera was busy distributing patrols along the banks of the Twinlakes. The marsh that connected the two lake basins had allowed some escaped slaves to reach what remained of Lochbis, venturing through the Whitetrunk and the grueling paths of the valleys of the Slumbering Peaks toward Falcon’s Pass. The orders from Eyjanborg were clear: they were to kill any fugitive slaves, along with the militia groups that provided them with relatively safe escape routes.
When Sheera arrived at Godar, she found some soldiers waiting for her. The highest-ranked among them presented himself, awaiting her orders.
“Is everyone here?” she asked.
“Yes, Commander,” replied the Chosen Soldier.
“Good. I will not give specific orders until tomorrow,” she yelled, proceeding toward the house that would have be her lodging. “Watch the beginning of the path that leads into the swamp, and check the nearby banks of the Twinlakes. I won’t tolerate any blunders.”
The soldier went on his way, and Sheera, annoyed and tired, holed up behind the door. Inside the building, the uggars had been waiting for her arrival for days; everything had been perfectly arranged. The sight of the food-laden table was quite welcome. Sheera put down her armor and weapons and sat at the table, devouring the splendid meat that the slaves had only lightly cooked for her, leaving it full of blood inside. She drank many a chalice of keb-brew, and partook of the grapes and berries that she so loved. She was sated when she could not even bring a small blueberry to her mouth any longer.
Just then, a knock on the door.
“Who in blazes!?” she shouted.
Quickly, a female slave went to open up. A messenger wrapped in a cloak and hood entered the house and handed Sheera a note. The tulvar read it and gave the male slave a glass of keb-brew as a reward, whispering a few words in the slave’s ear before sending him away.
An hour later, the Commander was in her room, waiting for the time designated by the message to arrive. She was swinging before her eyes the pendant her mother had given her. Sometimes it pulsed, and at other times, the light was more constant. Sheera could tell it was reacting to her mood. She had been the first female tulvar in several generations not to become a priestess. Forced to struggle constantly to earn a place in the military hierarchy, in ways her brothers Ramil and Ziglan hadn’t needed to, she learned to control her powers, and thereby stopped being an iveti (a so-called “wandering witch”)—she was now accepted as a warrior.
Outside the window, a sudden light flashed from the nearby woods, followed by another, and another. It was the signal—the hour of the meeting had arrived. She went to the bedroom door, and heard no footsteps or movements in the whole house. She