Post 13

A wrinkled hand shook her shoulder to wake her up.
“Dearie, dearie, we are here.” A voice murmured. Cassia slowly opened her eyes to look up into Marantha’s aging face.
“We’ve reached Laddinley.” Cassia looked up to see Atropos, clad in his leather tunic, holding his weapons, ready to disembark the gypsy’s wagon.
“Is everything all right?” Cassia asked, noticing how armed for battle he was. He smiled bitterly.
“I don’t know yet. We’ll soon find out.”
It didn’t take them long to exit the gypsy’s home. She bid them farewell, waving her hand, before the wagon turned to smoke once again, and floated off into the slowly rising sun.
“Perhaps I misjudged their type.” Atropos said, watching where the wagon had been just a few moment before. Honey yipped, as if in agreement, and turned to face the waking forest.
“I don’t see any city.” Cassia remarked, crossing her arms.
“Human eyes usually can’t.” Atropos countered, making his way to a large tree, spiraling up into the sky. He shouldered his bow and grabbed a hefty branch, then pulled himself up onto it. It appeared to take no effort on his part. Then he reached his hand down, toward Cassia. “Hand me Honey.”
Cassia picked up the while fluff ball and put her in his hands. Then Cassia grabbed the first branch and hoisted herself up. She was panting by the time she reached her footing next to the elf. He smiled and shook his head, handing her Honey again before leaping onto the next branch. The process continued, Atropos first, then Cassia handed him Honey, then Cassia followed. It was a slow procession.
Finally, Atropos stopped once the girl had joined them.
“Welcome to Laddinley.” Cassia tried to hold in her shock at the beauty of the city. It spanned treetops, connected by ropes and bridges. There were buildings built into trees, so that no other eyes could tell the difference. Members of the Brotherhood stood carefully on branches high in the trees, keeping watch for any enemies that would come this way. Even in the waking morning, the city was alive. Elves swung from tree to tree, children ran about, playing war or other childish games. Birds screeched and sung and called out to the world.
“I’ll take you to your family.” Atropos said, pulling her along a branch that twisted around the tree. He seemed to be taking her along the safest route, only bridges, no swinging from vines or crossing a bridge made of only a rope.
Soon they arrived at a tree smaller than the others. There was a hole on one side, which Atropos led her into.
Cassia heard her brother’s voice soon through the darkness.
“Mama! I want play!”
“Not now darling.” Mistress Graystone’s voice sounded strained. Indeed when Cassia entered the room, lit only with torches, her father and mother were on opposite ends of the room, both sitting in wooden chairs. Cassia’s mother was close to tears, while her father looked at he did when contemplating information he had received about Tempest, or when he was playing chess against any of his children.
Atropos took this in, and immediately became furious. “What has happened?”
“Most of the Brotherhood is gone.” Master Graystone said, his voice close to monotone. “The Sisterhood went with them. They believe it is war.”
“How did they find out?” Cassia asked, too worried to realize this was the first time she had seen her parents in days. They both looked up at her sadly, as if some great tragedy had occurred since they had last set their eyes on her.
Padrig ran up to her, smiling and raising his arms to be picked up.
“Cashia! Cashia! Want play!”
“Soon, all right?” She murmured to him, bouncing him up and down in her arms a little. He giggled and when she put him down, ran from her arms.
“Are you all right?” Her mother came over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “You look exhausted.”
“There will be time for this later.” Atropos’ mood had not cooled and he strode over to Master Graystone. “Did they send her? Is she all right?”
“She’s still here.” The Mistress said, her voice once again harsh and stressed. “Is she all right? We’ll leave that for you to decide.” Atropos looked at her, then ran out of the room so quickly it was hard to see him.
Cassia was surprised at the departure of her companion. She had been with him for days without end, now it felt as if she was missing something.
“Where’s Archia?” She asked her mother.
“Here.” From the other hole emerged her sister. Still with child, still teary eyed by her loss. But it seemed that grief was over shadowed by something else. Cassia’s mother patted her back, then pushed her toward her sister,
“You two have many things to talk about.” She said, walking back to the corner of the room and sitting to entertain her son.
Archia led her to a dimly lit room, with two beds, though only one was unmade.
“This is our room.” She said, closing the wooden door behind them.
“What has happened?” Cassia asked, taking a seat on the neat bed. “Why is everyone so upset?”
“War does that to people, Cassia.” Archia didn’t sit; she merely began to pace, back and forth. “But there is another reason. Oh, it’s too terrible. And even I wasn’t here for the worst of it. It can only imagine what it was like for Thad and Padrig, being here while they were at each other’s throats…”
“What?” Cassia repeated her question. Archia sighed, and Cassia could hear the sadness there. The loneliness. And Cassia knew that the only thing keeping her sister alive now was her baby.
“Father came here many, many years ago, when he was a young man. He stayed here, on the run from granddad for the moment, and made many friends with the Elves, which is to our benefit, as you can see.” She paused to take a breath. “One Elf was a girl names Crystalia, which means beauty in the Elfin language. She was his age then, and they were great friends. Sweethearts, even.
“Do you know who the Sisterhood of Elves are?” Archia suddenly asked. Cassia only shook her head. “Of course you don’t, you’re too young to know about them. Cassia, they’re a group of soldiers’…whores.” Cassia started. She had never heard her sister use that word. Certainly, she knew what one was. She had an older brother, who educated her about the world she had never had experienced.
“During a war, they follow the soldiers around, in secret. Hiding in the forests surrounding battle zones. When a wounded soldier finds his way into the trees, they take him in. They give him a…companion, who heals his wounds and then…” Archia shook her head, letting Cassia know all she needed to. “Anyway, it’s what they’re trained to do. From birth, Cassia. They grow up, knowing that’s all they’ll ever do is have children, with soldiers, who will never see them again.
“Sometimes, if the elfin woman isn’t accepted into the Sisterhood, they’ll marry a man from the Brotherhood. But most aren’t given that option.” Archia said bitterly, near tears of fury. She took a few breathes and sighed, sitting down on her bed.
“What does this have to do with-” Archia held a hand up to stop her. She took a long breath.
“Crystalia wasn’t a member of the Sisterhood yet. She was too young. So she still wore the necklace that all elfin girls wear. It has a pendant made of blue stone with spells cast on it by Elfin mages. It keeps them from having children until they’re in the Sisterhood. Only they have that privilege.” She spat the word, rubbing her stomach. “Years later, before Father was married to Mother, but he was already engaged, he visited Crystalia again. She was a member of the Sisterhood now, and had removed her necklace. It turns out their love had never died.”
“A few months later, because Elves give birth sooner than humans do, she had a daughter. Diamantina, she named her.” Archia took a steadying breath. “Diamantina is our half-sister, Cassia.”
“What?” Cassia gasped. An elfin sister? By her father? How was that possible?
“She looks just like you.” Archia said, tears in her eyes again. “She’s older than both of us, technically, but Cassia, Elves look so much younger than they are. She looks just like you, except her ears. She could be your twin.”
“What?” Cassia couldn’t comprehend this. She had come back, hoping for warm smiles and a “don’t worry about it.” Instead she got this?
“Mother’s furious at Father. How could she not be? He doesn’t know what to do, he’s falling apart.”
“That’s who Atropos was talking about.” Cassia said, nodding slowly to herself. “She’s a member of the Sisterhood?”
“Not yet. She’s found loopholes to not be. She’d rather marry Atropos.”
“What?”
“They’re sweethearts, apparently. I didn’t find out until I got here and by then he was gone with you.” Archia buried her head in her hands. “It’s all been so terrible. I don’t know what to do anymore. I stay locked up in here, Thad’s off in the library. Only Padrig stays because Merle’s with Thad and…and our family is coming apart-” There was a knock on the thin door. “Come in.” Archia whispered.
The door opened, and suddenly it was like looking into a mirror.

post 12

“This is a great improvement from running,” Cassia commented.

Atropose laughed, but with a mischievous glint in his grey eyes. “You humans. That was not running. That was a brisk jog. When you arrive at Laddinley. I will show you what real warrior training is.”

Cassia stared at him straightfaced. “I look forward to it.”

Atropos raised an eyebrow, “You do?”

Cassia nodded. “I’m sure it will be an interesting experience.” She stared at the wall next to Atropos’s head. Her voice trembled at bit, “and I think that even though what I’ve seen is most likely nothing from what others have seen…it’s not something I want anyone else to have to experience, either. I want to fight, and I want this war to be over.”

Atropos raised the other eyebrow, then sighed. “Your father has changed since he first stumbled into Laddinley, you know.” He stared at the opposite wall as well. “As has the Brotherhood. You might say we’ve…exchanged some ideas.”

Cassia waited, stratching Honey behind the ears.

“Time was that your father hated the idea of war, or any kind of physical melee. He believed that diplomacy could solve everything – though I suppose in those days it mostly had, for him.” Atropos’s eyes were distant. “And for us, the idea of negotiation was unheard of. We were raised with the idea of getting all of our demands – or fighting to the death to get them.” Atropos suddenly turned back to the present. “What do you think, Cassia?” he asked.

“I…I think that neither is completely effective. It is not wise to take up arms at the first insult, but neither can you continue speaking if the other does not listen or understand.”

“Hm.” Atropos stared at her for a second, and smiled slightly. “I think that the philosophy held by both your father and the Brotherhood at this time.”

Cassia tapped the bench with a finger. “But you are one of the Brotherhood. Isn’t that what you think, too?”

“To be honest, I am not sure what to think right now,” Atropos said, shrugging. “I do not know if this fighting that is to come is justified. I do not know who is in the right.”

Cassia stared at him. “But you saw what Tempest did to Cristo and the Armet. Don’t you think that their deaths demand retribution?”

“And before their deaths, your father and Laddinley were none too secret in their military preparations.” Atropos reminded her. Then he sighed. “Do not take what I am saying too harshly, Cassia. Do not believe me traitorous. I, too, am angered by the deaths of Cristo and the Armet. When the time comes, I will fight alongside my Brothers both for settlement of that debt, as well as the overthrow of Tempest, and the victory and glory of our people.”

“I am glad,” Cassia told him, heart pounding.

A slight cloud still hung over his brow. “However,” he stopped himself and looked slightly embarrassed. “Forgive me if I confide in you.”

It was Cassia’s turn to shrug. “If you do not want me to, I will never speak of this again.”
Atropos nodded gratefully. “I am your father’s age, so I have seen much more than you. I have lived through wars, both great and petty. Know that, after all these years, I am not sure what to think of this constant disagreement. I understand that we have values or property that we should defend with our lives. But I have seen many go to their deaths. And at their death…what purpose is there to them? The only gain is to be gained by the living.”

“But we are living now.” Cassia replied.

“But eventually, like all things, we shall die.” Atropos insisted.

Cassia was silent for a second. “My tutor used to tell me that the runner who fears the exhaustion of the conclusion of the race will never be great. My father says that heroes never fear death, because their cause is greater.”

“I suppose that is part of my problem, then. What cause is so great?”

Cassia shrugged. “I suppose you have to deem it to be great. Otherwise, how can it be worth all the trouble?”

Atropos smiled. “I admire your faith in things, Cassia.” His eyes were sharper can clearer than they were a few minutes ago, but creases still remained in his brow. “I cannot say that I can admit that you are right, however.”

“Ha! You know not what right is – yet you follow it – to win!” Marantha interjected. Her eyes opened briefly – wide and wild – and then she dropped off again.

Cassia giggled.

“You should get some rest,” Atropos said, looking embarassed. “We’ll probably be at Laddinley by the time you wake up.”

Cassia nodded. She realized how tired she was after running all day. Atropos turned over and closed his eyes. His head soon bobbled with the movement of the cart. Honey looked up at her with liquid eyes. She spilled to the ground and curled up on the worn wood. Cassia stared at the opposite wall, waiting for sleep to overtake her.
“Want to take a look at the scenery, my dear?”

Cassia jumped. Marantha’s eyes gazed at her, half-lidded. “Um…yes.” She said uncertainly, “Please.”

A slow, warm smile spread over Marantha’s face and she lifted a gnarled hand. A section the length and width of Cassia arm blurred and turned transparent. Cassia gaped at the old gypsy. Marantha’s eyelids had begun to dip, and her beam shrunk until she was limp and snoring like the night.

Cassia gazed through the window, unable to sleep now. Outside, the sun had gone and the night sky was a clear navy blue. Cassia frowned. She could not make out the familiar clumped shadows of the trees. Then the moon drifted lazily past the window, and several figures became illuminated – the long and sinuous bodies of snakes. The silver and green patterns on their scales glinted in the delicate light as their flight rippled with the eddies of drafts. The nearest one turned its head and its golden eyes glowed in the starlight. A forked tongue flickered out, as if in greeting. Cassia, unsure if the snake could see her in the dark, raised a hand. The head turned away. The snakes made a wriggling movement and descended, moving out of view from the window in seconds.

Cassia wondered why they left. The night was still early, and she had read that Witches usually migrated throughout the night. A light caught her eye. She shivered as the wagon became uncomfortably warm. A pulsing red-orange ball of light pressed against the bottom of the other side of the window, followed by another one. Her eyes widened. She had heard whispers of them. They were Kyrees. [*Kurage-no-hinotama - a jellyfish that floats through the air as a fireball.] She watched, fascinated, as the cherry red top of the Kyree moved up the side of the window. It was the shape of a bowl placed rim down. Below the top was a cluster of red-orange flames that rippled as the thing moved.

Cassia rose, waking Honey, who opened one eye, regarded the Kyrees, mumbled something in protest, and fell back asleep. Cassia touched her hand to the glass. She could feel the unnatural warmth tingling up her arm. She looked out in a greater distance and saw dozens more Kyrees drifting in the sky. They moved without haste and without purpose. Cassia felt her weariness return as lethargy followed the warmth. She felt her limbs grow limp, and slight concern nudged her, wondering how she was to return to her seat. She did not remember closing her eyes.

Post 11

Atropos kneeled along the path, tracing something in the dust with his finger.

“Hoof prints.” He said, keeping his voice low. “They were headed toward Trictia.” He looked off into the distance, where the crossroads led to the river, and then the next country.

“What do you think-” Atropos brought a finger to his lips and crept along the ground, following the trail. He looked up at a hill that the path followed and leapt to his feet, gracefully covering the distance before Cassia could begin to follow him.

“They were ambushed.” The Elf’s voice barely hid the fury underneath. Cassia looked over the hill.

Around them, bodies lay dead, broken, shot, bleeding. Arrows stuck out of corpses like an extra limb. Masses of bodies were stacked up in a bonfire that was still lightly smoking. The bodies were charred, filling the observers’ nostrils with vomit-inducing smoke. Honey came to life in Cassia’s arms, squirming and howling her pain at the fallen victims.

Cassia swallowed, feeling tears in her eyes.

“Ambushed.” Atropos repeated. “No one could defeat the Armet if they were ready.”

“Who would do this?” Cassia asked, anger finally registering with her.

“The same people who tried to arrest your father.” Atropos said, turning to face her, his gray eyes blazing.

“Tempest.” Cassia whispered, clenching her fists. “He’ll pay.”

“Yes.” Atropos turned and headed down the hill. “He will pay.” Honey barked as Cassia began to turn and follow the Elf. He froze, at whatever she barked, and turned to make eye contact with the dog. She growled, as if confirming what she had said. Atropos rushed to Cassia’s side, taking her arm in his firm grip.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” He hissed, pulling her along.

“What?”

“Before it gets our scent!” Atropos was pulling her by the wrist now, racing down the path and back toward the open expanse of road that they had met the gypsy on. Cassia tried to turn back to look but their speed was too much for her. She was panting, the hot air turning her lungs to dust. The smell of the smoke had still not left her mind.

“Who knows when they started this?” Atropos muttered to himself as they ran. “What else do they have on their side? Spirits? Mermaids?”

“What’s following us?” Cassia managed to pant as they ran. Nothing was in sight in front of them, they were so far from Millea. And if whatever was following them was strong enough, even the city wouldn’t save them.

Smoke billowed up behind them, rushing forward to complete a shape. The old wagon reformed, blocking their path. The crazy woman peered out at them, just as she had left them.

“I told you.” She said, her voice much more serious. “You were too late.”

“That doesn’t matter now!” Atropos said, trying to make his way around the cart.

The gypsy held out her hand and he froze, unable to move. Honey didn’t growl or howl, she nearly whimpered, as if asking for help.

“Indeed, it doesn’t matter.” The gypsy waved her other hand, and the back door to the wagon opened. “You need shelter, a way back to Laddinley.”

“Can we trust you?”

“Ask the mutt.” Honey gave a little yip, somewhat angry. “Oh, don’t pretend. You know I speak the truth.” The dog gave a gruff bark, which Atropos sighed at. He turned to look behind them. Cassia followed his gaze.

In the sun, following their trail, was a man, bent over the path as if he needed to be that close to see it. Then it raised its head and gave a great howl. Cassia gasped.

“We accept your offer.” Atropos said, pulling a stunned Cassia into the wagon.

“It…it can’t be.” She whispered. “They’re a dead race…Something from stories!”

“Your politicians are the storytellers.” The gypsy said as the entered the cool room. She waved her hand and the front window closed. The wagon wheels creaked as they began to move of their own accord. Honey barked as the woman passed them, making her way to a swinging hammock in the corner. The gypsy reached forward her gnarled hand to pet the dog on the head and smiled gently at her. “I’m not as young as I used to be, my friend.”

The wagon was only four walls, a cabinet on one side, the hammock next to it. One wall was the window, and the last was bare. Atropos and Cassia sat against it, anticipating the long ride.

“He got our scent.” Atropos said, glaring at the floor. “We’re safe in here, but he’ll find us again.”

“Until you put an end to him, or until he puts an end to you.” The gypsy’s voice was matter-of-fact as she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, rocking back and forth with the moving of the cart.

“You can be assured that I will.” The Elf said, staring at the window that separated them from the harsh sun. Then he turned to the gypsy. “Why are you helping us? You were on the opposite side during the Great Wars.”

“Most were.” She replied, closing her swollen eyes. “Your kind was too.”

“But you actually were.” He said, his voice unyielding. The woman didn’t move, but her voice filled the cabin.

“I fought oppression, and lies, and all the things that come to be. If you had been there, you would have too. The war is starting again, the same war, fighting the same things. I’m on the same side. It’s the point of views that have changed.”

Atropos turned to look at the ground again.

Cassia, recovering from her shock, found her voice again. “What’s going to happen now?”

“No one will be pleased with the fall of the Armet.” Atropos said, gritting his teeth. “All noble warriors know that they did not die under normal war. Those who respect true fighting will follow your father.”

“No.” The travelers looked to the gypsy, whose eyes had gone blank, transfixed on the future. “The Master Graystone will not fight again. Nor will the Brotherhood be disbanded. The flocks will come. The city will fall. Doom will come to one and all.” She blinked and gave a little laugh, an echo of the one before. “And I thought I saw things clearly.”

“My dad won’t fight?” Cassia repeated, taking a breath to steady herself. “Will he die?”

“Everyone dies, we only worry about when or where.” She said this almost as a rhyme, rocking back and forth.

“And some of us don’t worry.” Atropos muttered, his voice seemingly coming from no where in the darkness.

The gypsy bolted up, her wrinkled face coming alive as her eyes went blank.

“You were almost killed. Your father didn’t want you. Your mother couldn’t keep you. Left alone. All alone. The Brotherhood came, they took you in. Saved your life, your soul, your skin. Gave you a life. You can’t repay. You follow your honor. You’re scarred, it can’t be undone. You can only win, just as you’ve always won. Love was never something you’d treasure, seeing as you’ve lost it, you know forever. Fight Atropos, you’re not done yet. Give them something they’ll never forget.”

She collapsed back on the hammock, deep asleep.

Cassia turned to Atropos, looking for some explanation.

“Gypsies.” He muttered, taking off his bow and quiver.

“Marantha.” The woman jolted awake, before entering sleep again. Atropos’ mouth was open, his eyes wide.

“What?”

“I…I was going to ask what her name was…” The Elf took a shaky breath, leaning back against the wall.

“She’s powerful.” Cassia said, shrugging and letting Honey loose. The dog ran around, sniffing everything, as if reminiscing in old times. Then she snuggled next to Cassia’s leg and fell asleep. “She’s tired.” The girl said, petting the dog’s fluffy head.

“She’s old. Older than that one.” Atropos said, nodding at the sleeping Marantha.
“How do you know?”

“She told me.” He seemed to want the conversation left at that, but the girl couldn’t help prying.

“Is that all?”

“For now.”

“What was it she was saying about you?” Cassia looked back at the sleeping figure, not wanting to disturb her.

“Things I already knew.” Cassia sighed, slumping against the wall.

“Elves.”

“Humans.” Atropos countered. But when Cassia looked up at him, he was smiling.

post10

Cassia shivered, looking at the place where the wagon had vanished. The only trace of its existence was in the dusty swirl in the road. She turned and ran to catch up with Atropos, who was already in the distance. They walked in silence for a while. Elongated shadows moved in unison with them, shrinking steadily even as Cassia felt its warm fingers touch her back.

They passed a small fork in the road, which read, “Main Crossroads, 5 miles.”

“Almost there,” Atropos murmured, picking up his pace. He trotted forward with an easy lope, his blond air streaming behind him past his ears. Cassia panted, trying to keep up. Honey, who chose to sleep again, bumped softly against her with each step. Every breath burned raw in her throat. Her arms hung slackly at her side, much too weary to lift the flask of water to her lips. She pushed herself onward, knowing that the Armet were close.

Atropos slowed and cursed. Cassia kneeled over, relieved. “What is it?”

Atropos scanned the road, which dipped and curved around a stretch of trees. He pulled Cassia just to the edge of the road, in sight, but away from danger.
Cassia strained her ears and made out a strange wailing in the distance. Honey, who was stirred when Cassia stopped, pawed at the sling, growling quietly. Cassia glanced at Atropos, whose eyes were still and distant, trained on the curve in the road.

When the first figure came into view his eyes narrowed. More followed. They were all women of indeterminate age. They all had copper eyes.

“More Witches,” breathed Cassia.

Atropos frowned. “They are traveling early.”

“We passed through territory of another traveling group two days ago,” Cassia told him.

Atropos said nothing, but his eyebrows furrowed. The Witches traveled gracefully, unburdened by luggage. Instead of chattering amongst themselves as they usually did while traveling, all the Witches had their faces to the sky, singing and wailing in unison.

The Great One sent the Witch and
The Wizard
To their death
But the Wizard slew the Great
And the Witch slew the One
And the war-drums cried and sang
Arche has fallen, war is upon us!

Cassia shivered. She recognized the chant as one of the Witch folktales that often doubled as a dirge. Their singing voices were plaintive and haunting, unlike their hissing speech.

“What news?” called Atropos to a tall, raven haired Witch.

She turned to him, her eyes glistening. “Arche has fallen, War is upon us,” she wailed, unseeing. Honey whimpered, struggling to get out and run. Cassia tucked Honey into her arms. She was afraid that Honey would be trampled by the Witches, who seemed mad with grief.

Atropos and Cassia watched uneasily as they continued their chant. The last Witches were closely knotted together; a light haired Witch was being dragged by two others. Her silver skin was pale and taut over her pale face. Her eyes were half lidded and unblinking. It was only a small band of Witches, so it was not long before they passed the two and disappeared in the distance.

“What do you think happened?” asked Cassia, still hugging Honey close. Atropos shook his head. “There’s no telling what happened. It’s best not to worry about it now. We need to get to the Armet.” He strode forward. Cassia sighed and followed.
“Atropos,” she asked. “How did you meet my father?”

Atropos was silent for a moment, remembering. “I met him ___ years ago, before I led the Brotherhood,” he said, “I was fifteen. Your father was just a year older. He’d just had a fight with his own father.”

“My father had a fight with granddad?” Cassia murmured to herself. Then she stopped and looked at Atropos. “Sorry.”

Atropos nodded and went on, “He packed his bags and rode into the forest. He intended to stay until his father tried to find him, and negotiate then. Except he wandered too far away from the edge of the forest, too close to Laddinley. In those days we were still extremely hostile to your people. Everyone was hostile to anyone not their own. I was assigned to keep watch over him to make sure that he would not wander too close to our borders.” A bird cawed raucously and he broke off. His hands tensed on his spear.

Cassia scanned the trees. It was just a bird, she hoped. “What happened then?” she asked in a whisper.

The corner of his lips quirked into a smile. “He got too close, and he realized where he was. And he began to panic.”

“Let me guess,” Cassia said dryly, “he was caught and you persuaded your people to let him go?”

Atropos laughed. “Something like that. Except he didn’t need my help. I just blundered through the negotiations. It was your father that freed himself. He that persuasive even then. He saw that we were low on game, hiding in our small section of forest. He offered up supplies from his family in exchange for a secret alliance.” Atropos sighed, “he talked about peace between all species. Peace in Arche.”

“So you accepted?”

“Of course we accepted. He returned to his house, and made good on his promises. His family ensured that no one of our enemies would ever stray as close to Laddinley as he had. And now that he is in danger, it his our turn to help him.”
“That was a fruitful alliance.” Cassia remarked.

Atropos nodded, “It certainly was. It is amazing how well it worked out for both of us. I suppose it’s all due to your father’s persuasion.”

“And integrity on both sides.” Cassia said, recalling something her history tutor had once said.

“Yes…integrity.” Atropos murmured. A stone marker read One Mile to Crossroads.

“Was any of my family hurt at all?” Cassia asked.

Atropos shook his head. “Thankfully, your father had scouts watching in a circle around the house. Everyone – your family, your servants – is safe at Laddinley. The scouts watching outside were laughing at the soldier’s puzzlement over the empty house.”

Cassia cringed. “Were they angry? Did they destroy the house?”

Atropos shook his head again. “The scouts said that they seemed uninterested in torching the place. Their orders, apparently, were to arrest Master Greystone, and nothing more. Since they failed, they no longer had a reason to be there. The soldiers wouldn’t have had a grudge on your father. Only Tempest really dislikes him. Besides, even Tempest would have enough sense not to publicly destroy the property of one of the most popular men in Arche.”

Cassia smiled. “Tempest won’t have an easy time trying to overpower him, then.”

“No, he won’t,” Atropos agreed. “Not with the normal citizens and soldiers.” He paused. “But there have been rumors. You heard the gypsy. Something is happening.”
Cassia looked at him.

Atropos shrugged, “I don’t know what it could be. But Tempest would need to strike a deal with bordering countries, perhaps Trictia, or Balpados across the sea.” He grimaced. “But I suppose we should not speculate. We are here.” Cassia looked up as they rounded another bend. The gap in the trees widened to show the large area where three paths struck across each other.

Cassia glanced around. “So where are the Armet?”

Post 9

Chapter 2

Archia returned with them to Laddinley. She shouldn’t have been traveling, but she didn’t care anymore. Cassia let her ride the horse, opting to walk with Atropos and the rest of the Elfin Brotherhood. They walked slowly, having no need to hurry. It might as well have been a funeral march.

They walked until twilight. The Elves found a spacious cave. After searching
for a little bit, they handed Archia and Cassia a bundle of furs to sleep on.

“We have catches of supplies hidden everywhere.” Atropos explained, settling on his own furs. “You only need know where to look.”

Cassia couldn’t sleep. She needed to find her father. More importantly, she needed to get to the Armet, as quickly as possible. Her entire family was in danger. What of Thad and Padrig? Had they escaped with her father?

The road to Laddinley was effectively the opposite direction from the crossroads. It was the closest Elfin city to Keshia, which meant they would follow the road that Cassia had traveled to get to Millea.

She sat up, looking towards the mouth of the cave. Atropos was sitting there, staring up at the twinkling stars. Cassia stood up, careful not to disturb Archia, who had managed to find sleep, and found her way over the sleeping forms to the head elf.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked him. He shrugged.

“We always keep watch. It’s my turn.” His voice fit the setting. If she hadn’t known he was talking, Cassia might have taken it for the wind.

“We need to find the Armet.” Cassia said, looking out at the forest.

“We need to report back to your father. Then we can worry about the Armet.”

“It might be too late.”

“We might already be too late. And what of your sister?”

“She would be safe with your men.”

“You propose you go alone?”

“That’s how my father sent me.”

“The conditions are different now.” Cassia glared at Atropos, taking him in. He was no longer wearing the leather tunic, instead his wore a loose, white cotton shirt and leather breeches. His long blond hair was pulled back, his piercings glinting in the moonlight. He was well trained. Experienced in fighting, and leading. He would help her, out of respect for her father. If she asked him.

“Very well. What if you accompanied me?” He didn’t seem surprised. He bowed his head, thinking.

“If you insist on going, it is only right that I go with you.” He said. Quickly he stood, walking over to where he stored his gear. Quickly he strapped his leather armor on, shouldered his quiver and bow, and packed up the furs. Cassia made her way back to her pack and carefully put a sleeping Honey in her place.

Cassia looked for Atropos, who had awoken his second in command and was whispering orders to him while the others slept. Then he looked over at Cassia and met her eyes.

She carefully made her way to the mouth of the cave for the last time. Atropos met her there, as did the other elf.

“We will bring your sister to Laddinley, and to Master Graystone. Then our orders are to follow your trail until we meet you.” He said, standing at attention. Cassia nodded, and looked at Atropos.

“We should get moving, to make up the time we lost today.” He said. Cassia nodded. He nodded to the elf, who saluted him, then started walking in the direction of the path that they left to find shelter. The elf bowed to Cassia, then went back into the cave. Cassia turned to follow Atropos, wondering if she had made the wrong decision, and wishing she could go back to her father like Archia was lucky enough to do.

They traveled all night, making their way next to the path instead of on it. No travelers or soldiers came there way, all had taken a rest tonight. Cassia was fearful of Witches, but realized they had been traveling the other direction when she had seen them two days ago. They were long gone now. The pair passed Millea sometime as the sun was rising. It was a miserable place, now that Cassia thought about it. Who wanted to spend their whole life sailing or smelling the rotten fish odor that was far too abundant in the town?

“We should be at the crossroads before nightfall.” Atropos said, slowing his pace for the first time that night. Honey, who had been silent since she awoke as the passed the fishing town, yapped a bit until Cassia put her on the ground to
walk. “We can take a break for nourishment, if you so desire.” Atropos said, stopping to remove his pack. Cassia did so as well and sat in the shade of one of the few trees. The forest had ended before Millea, and the sun had beat down on the trio ever since.

All was uncomfortably silent. Even Honey was quiet as she rolled around in the dirt, trying to move around as much as possible before she had to be carried again.

“How did Cristo die?” Cassia asked. “Who do you think killed him.” The question made Atropos uncomfortable, and he was silent for moments more before answering.

“They were sword wounds. Likely some soldiers that follow the command of the Tempest Council.”

“Don’t soldiers have a code of honor?” She asked, drinking some water from a skin. “Not to kill a defenseless man?”

“Maybe he fought back.”

“Maybe they weren’t soldiers.”

“You asked my opinion, and I gave it.” Atropos snapped. Honey stopped rolling and looked at the quarrelling creatures. “You do not need to-“ He stopped and turned his head toward the path. In the distance a wagon could be seen, traveling faster than horses or wheels could carry it. Atropos hissed and picked up his pack again, and then pulled Cassia up by her arm.

“What’s-?”

“Gypsies.” He snarled, handing over her pack. Honey all but jumped into Cassia’s arms as the wagon approached. Atropos didn’t move. There was no where to hide, and they couldn’t outrun it.

The wagon rolled to a halt. It appeared abandoned. There were no horses or people or anything. The main window opened and an old lady peered out at them.

“Afternoon, travelers.” Her voice creaked with age, her skin wrinkling as she spoke. “Anything I can help you with?”

“No thank you.” Atropos said, his voice firm.

“A ride to the crossroads?” Her knowledge brought forth no surprise from the pair, it was the only place they could be going. Her brow furrowed, bringing forth more lines. “An elf and a human? Together? That is no normal sight.”

“These are not normal times.” Atropos responded.

“Indeed, young Brother.” She cackled, bringing forth a crystal ball. “Need you know your future?”

“I know all I need to.” He responded.

“There must be something I can do for you.” She said, waving her hand over the ball. It glowed dully, pulsing in her palm.

“No thank you.” Atropos said, beginning to walk away. Cassia followed, keeping the elf between her and the wagon.

“Your mission is for nothing!” The woman called after them, her laughing and cackling at what she saw. “You will return empty handed! More blood is coming, my friends! You have no idea!” Her laughter died as the wagon began to turn to smoke. In an instant, it was gone.

“Gypsies.” Atropos spat, shouldering his bow again.

Post 8

Perhaps I was wrong about his intentions, she thought, the wind whipping through her hair. Honey appeared to be holding on for dear life, in her pouch.

“If we make it past the river we should be safe.” Stan’s voice was almost lost in the air trying to pull them back. The sun beat down on them, it couldn’t have been past midday.

Suddenly an arrow whistled through the air, brushing past Stan’s ear with deadly accuracy. The arrow was enough to spook his horse, which stopped galloping and rose on its hind legs, trying to shake his master.

Clearly these horses were never trained for combat.

Against her better judgment, Cassia slowed her horse and turned him around, facing the attacking elves.

The smoke effect seemed to have worn off. Cassia had seen it before, Thad had used a lesser version to entertain the city children during parties or meetings that preceded parties. It was just a trick, a combination of different roots or herbs. Nothing compared to what elves could do.

“I’ll say it again,” Atropos sneered down at Stan, his green eyes glinting fiercely, “We need the Graystone. You are free to go.”

“Why do you need me?” Cassia asked, her voice cutting clear across the dirt path. The elves turned to look at her. She must have looked braver than she felt, for they looked to their leader to say something.

“We follow orders.” He said, not meeting her eyes. He lowered his spear to jab Stan in the ribs with it. Not enough to kill him, just enough that he knew what he was dealing with. “And our orders do include killing anyone who gets in our way.”

Maybe it was the horse chase, maybe the pain that was jolting through his side, but Stan broke.

“Okay! Take her! I don’t care!” He scrambled to his feet. “It’s better this way. Better that she died in the forest than once she was actually home.” He turned to go, eyes on the elves. When none of the Brotherhood moved to stop him, he took off through the woods, avoiding meeting Cassia eyes.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, the elves started shaking with laughter.

“Coward!” Atropos called after him. “Good riddance!” One of the elves led Cassia’s horse over to him, with her still riding.

She was panicked, remembering the mermaid’s warning. Blood would be spilled, what if it was meant to be hers? Suddenly she realized that perhaps she was in better hands now. Stan had only been plotting to kill her. Archia had been right.

“Don’t be afraid, Mistress Graystone. You’re in good hands.” Atropos said, his voice mysteriously soothing.

“You’re not going to hurt me?” Cassia didn’t let her voice waver. In fact, she almost believed the words as she said them. Honey was much too relaxed for this to be a person that meant her harm.

“Your father would slaughter us if we ever let harm come to you.” He smiled. Cassia relaxed. Her father. Of course.

Master Graystone had many connections throughout Arche, ranging from merchants to sailors, soldiers to peasants, Wizards to, in this case, Elves.

“He sent you?”

“He suspected the young Tempest knew of your departure.” Atropos explained, leading the horse down the path as the rest of the Brotherhood followed. “Soldiers arrived at your parents’ house the night after you left. Thanks to his connection with the Tribe, and various mages, he had a series of secret tunnels under the house, which he led your family and servants through. They popped up in Laddinley a few hours later. You can imagine our surprise.” The elves chuckled a bit. The noise was a bit disturbing, echoing off the trees and making it appear that there were more than the four or five following them.

“Master Graystone was sure they had sent someone to, ah, retrieve you. He sent us along, knowing that no Tempest follower would know of his connections. We were just supposed to follow you silently until something troubling happened.”

“How did you know that Stan was with Tempest?” Cassia asked. They approached the hill leading to Millea once again. Cassia was suddenly anxious to see her sister, to tell her what had happened, to warn her of any danger.

“We saw him as he came into town. There was a letter with his mission on it. He was going to kill you.” This didn’t seem to bother Atropos, he walked slowly, in pace with the tired horse, down past the sign and to the streets that Cassia had walked the last time.

“Thank you, I suppose.” Cassia sighed as Honey began squirming in her knapsack. She removed the dog, who began running in midair, toward the docks. “What is it Honey?” Honey whined, the high pitch rung throughout the village. Atropos and the other elves gasped. “What?” In an instant spears and bows were drawn, and all but Atropos had galloped toward the dock.

“You don’t have to see it.” He said to Cassia. In one fluid motion he had leapt up onto the horse, behind Cassia, took the reigns from her startled hand and turned it to trot toward Archia’s house.

“What’s wrong?” Cassia’s heart was fluttering, her breath coming much too short. Something terrible had happened.

“There’s nothing you can do.” He brought the horse to a halt and jumped off. He took Honey from her hands and placed her on the ground, then lifted Cassia and put her, too on the ground. She was so startled she couldn’t protest.

“Go find your sister.” He told her, kneeling next to the dog. Cassia finally brought herself to move, and sure enough he had taken them to Archia’s dwelling. She hurried inside, opening the door without being allowed in.

“Cassia?” Archia took in her flustered face and immediately came to her sister’s side. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…Just come with me.” Suddenly Atropos’ orders and Honey’s actions were making sense. A sense that she did not want to consider. Archia followed her outside, where the elf was still conversing with the dog. Archia gasped quietly, but Cassia couldn’t bring herself to look at her sister. “Atropos?” The elf looked up, immediately taking in Archia’s condition.

He swore under his breath.

“We can only wait here.” He said, not meeting Cassia’s eyes.

“What has happened?” Archia asked, her tone much more demanding than Cassia’s had been. Atropos rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at Honey as if asking her permission. Finally he sighed and looked up at the sisters.

“Something has happened to your husband.” He said, his voice solemn. “I believe that at the same time the messenger came for Cassia, someone else came for him.”

“Cristo?” Archia breathed, grabbing on to Cassia for support. “Is he all right?”

“I’ve sent the rest of my men to find and help him,” Atropos said, “They have the means to heal him, if his wounds are not too serious.”

“Oh…” Archia moaned, collapsing against the wall in tears. “We should have left before. Left all this political business behind us.” Cassia held her sister, rubbing her back as she wept. Atropos picked up Honey, who barked and whimpered to him urgently.

“I thought your kind hated animals.” Cassia accused, seeing the way he gently handled her dog.

“Rumors.” He dismissed. “Every horse we find we care for, and eventually set free. We’re not as evil as most think.”

“You talk to animals?”

“We understand those that understand us.” He said, looking toward the street as Honey barked urgently.

A formation was swiftly running toward them, carrying another on their shoulders. Cassia glanced over at Atropos, whose expression was bleak. She could almost read his mind. There was no way they would bring him back here, if there was a way to save him. They were bringing him here to report back, that there was nothing they could do.

The Brotherhood gently put Cristo’s body before his wife. Tears streamed down her face, but she held strong, this time. She stood, quite difficult to do in her condition, and bent over the face of her husband.

His once tan skin was alarmingly pale, his hair bloody and mussed. His sailor clothing was torn and covered in dried blood mixed with dirt. Atropos was right. This was not an accident. Someone had come for him.

“We were too late, Miss.” One of the elves, a shorter and younger one, said. He bowed to Archia, as did the rest of them. To her favor, she was strong. She did not faint, she did not fall to the ground. “Our sorest grievances.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was a mere whisper. “He warned me, a while back…of something a siren sang to him while he was passing an island…”

Cassia could practically hear the mermaid hissing in her ear.

The first blood has been spilled. Now it truly begins.

post 7

The silence was broken by Honey’s abrupt whining. She rose on her hind legs and pawed anxiously at the ground. Moments later, there was a rapping at the front door. Cassia quickly hid the dagger in the pocket under her tunic. Archia rose and walked through the tunnel into the front room. Cassia followed.

A tall, lean man with floppy brown hair was peering through the window. When he spotted Archia and Cassia, he snapped to attention. When Archia opened the door, he snapped a salute. “Good evening, Ma’am, miss.”

“Hello,” Archia said cordially, “How may I help you?”

“I have a letter for Cassia Graystone?” Cassia stepped forward. The messenger held out a sealed envelope. “This is from your father. He says that you no longer need to contact the Armet. Things have settled, and he wishes that you would come home.” He held out a sealed envelope. “He also sent this.”

Cassia glanced at the seal, noting its silvery sheen, and the Owl mark pressed into the wax.

Dearest Cassia,
I was thankfully able to reconcile with the Junior Counselor Tempest. As the Armet are no longer needed, I ask that you come home. Hopefully my messenger has been able to intercept you before you have gone too far. Your mother is beside herself with worry.
With love,
Father

Cassia looked up at the man. She realized that he was perhaps Thad’s age, or younger. His hair hung slightly longer than usual, a style popular with students and cavalry men in Arche city. He was wearing a typical horseman’s jersey, and trousers, but his shirt was lighter, more suited for a day of study than hard riding. Meanwhile, Archia finished reading over her shoulder.

Archia frowned. “That’s it? The conflict was resolved…just like that?”

The messenger shrugged easily, “the whole of Arche City was shocked. It was actually Counselor Tempest that made the first peace offering.”

Cassia felt a small shiver pass through her. Her father had always fumed about Counselor Tempest’s and his son’s stubbornness.

One afternoon about a year ago, he had stormed into the house and gathered the children of the household to him. “Tempest and his son – are the most hard headed, imbecile in Arche – in the entire continent!” He met each child’s eyes, from his own childrens’ to those of the children of his servants and his siblings. “When Tempest dies he will be replaced by his son, who is only a puppet to his ideas. Do not ever give in, and never underestimate them. If something should ever happen to me, or your parents, you must all find one another, and above all, never join with him. Never trust his sneaking words, never take his peace offerings, because they are all tricks to further advance the cause that he will not let go of!”

Then he had stalked out of the room. Cassia remembered looking around at the twenty-odd people around her. Thad and Archia had been there, as well as little Padrig. Thad, the oldest there, had nodded, as if to confirm his father’s words. Afterwards, everyone had become subtly closer. They were bound in an unspoken pact, to protect and defend one another. People of the same age trained together, Cassia remembered that her father’s sister and brother had taken their children away when his feud with the Counselors had become known, and others, including Frida and Pent, also fifteen and the sword master’s twins, had been sent on various errands and journeys to other parts of Arche. Perhaps, if she returned, she could find out what happened while she was gone from Weir, who was fourteen and one of the few that stayed behind.

She nodded. “I’ll go pack.” The messenger nodded, and stepped outside. Archia closed the door and followed Cassia through the door and the tunnel.
“You’re not actually going to go with him, are you?” she hissed as they ascended the stairs.”

“I don’t know,” Cassia admitted, “but I know that something is not right.”

“So you’re going with him?” Archia grabbed her arm and glared at her. “You know what could happen to you?”

“I’ll just go with him for a little while. And keep my eye out.”

Archia’s eyes flashed. “It is extremely dangerous. You know that.”

Cassia forced a smile, “I’m from the Graystone household. As are you. Need I remind you that we were trained in surveillance, tracking, and combat?”

“Need I remind you that the training is only cursory and no match for a real fighter?”

Cassia ignored her. “You know

“I need to find out what’s going on.”

The messenger was standing by two grey horses. “Are you coming?” he asked.

Cassia nodded, and swung up on the shorter of the two horses. She adjusted her pack, making sure Honey was safe.

The messenger held out his hand his friendly brown eyes twinkling at her. “My name is Stan, by the way.”

Cassia smiled and shook his hand. They trotted slowly out of the city. Once on the road, they rode in silence for a while. Cassia threw him a sidelong glance. He kept his eyes on the road, and seemed lost in thought.

Cassia stared at her horse’s mane. She wondered if she should say something.
The air suddenly rang with wild whopping. Stan’s head whipped up and his horse whinnied in panic. The forest around the road bristled with lanky elfin men, their prominent ears tipped with piercings. They surrounded the two riders, brandishing lethal metal spears before them in a ring.

Each man wore a leather tunic that was studded with metal bits. One of them, square jawed with blond hair and a red ribbon on his spear, straightened and addressed Stan. “My name is Atropos, leader of the Elfin Brotherhood. The girl must come with us. You will be unharmed.”

Cassia glanced at Stan, who had paled slightly at the sight of the spears. He was likely a student, she guessed, and a messenger, not a fighter at all. He replied, “My mission is to bring her to Arche City.”

Atropos bared his teeth against his lean, sharp features. “And mine is to prevent you from doing so. Obviously we have conflicting objectives. Will you give her to us? Or must we kill you?”

Cassia felt Honey twitch. She put a hand in her sling to prevent her from making a sound. Male elves were not known for their kindness towards animals. When they encountered riders, they often robbed the people and slaughtered their horses for meals. They had no need for horses. They could run just as fast and were just as enduring.

Stan’s eyes shifted from the glinting spears to Cassia, though he did not meet her eyes. He sighed in submission and nodded. Atropos grinned, and began to walk towards Cassia. She felt the leather sheath of her dagger under her tunic, but there was no way to reach it in its pocket in time. She thrust aside panic. In the corner of her eye, she saw Stan’s fingers curl around something. Then the air was thick with smoke. The elves cried in dismay and anger. She felt her horse snort as a hand grabbed the reins. Without sight, she had no choice but to cling to her horse’s mane as she was carried out of the din. Someone burst into view. It was Atropos. His eyes shone with a wild light as he reached for her. His spear was upraised in his right hand. Inches from Cassia, his fingers were stopped. His eyes bulged as he realized that he could not pass. He could only watch in shock as Cassia disappeared into the smoke.

She emerged, feeling claustrophobic. She met the brown eyes of her rescuer. Stan looked at her solemnly. “We have to go,” he said. Cassia nodded and urged her horse into a gallop behind Stan.

Post 6

Red eyes, gleaming out from the darkness.

“We will meet again, young traveler.” They whispered, shimmering with mystery. Then a face formed behind the eyes. A face with fangs, that lunged toward her-

Cassia bolted up, cold sweat clinging to her body.

“Cassia?” Archia opened the door, dressed in a night gown, whose loose fabirc hid her condition more. Cassia didn’t respond, she kept panting , looking at a peaceful Honey next to her. “It was just a dream.” Her older sister murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching her arms out as if to comfort her.

Cassia pushed her away, instead drawing the covers around her and curling herself into a ball.

“You’re mad at me.” Archia said softly. It wasn’t a question, so Cassia didn’t feel compelled to answer. “You do not like him, do you?” Again, Cassia just remained shaking on her bed, staring into the darkness of her room. “Cristo is a good man, Cassia, and I love him. Couldn’t you at least try to get along with him?”

“Don’t pin this on me.” Cassia hissed, her voice cutting through the calmness that Archia had created. “You’re the one who ran off, who abandoned everything you ever said you believed in. I’m the one who has to watch over the family now. I’m the one that cares for Padrig. Do you know who that is? He’s your little brother, the one you swore to protect. Where have you even been? It is not me that is not trying to get along with him. This is not my fault.” And then she was silent again.

Archia was still for moment, her hand fluttering to her swollen stomach. Then she quietly stood, and padded out of the room.

Honey, who had awoke during Cassia’s outburst, lifted her head to stare at the girl inquisitively. Her stare, her big brown eyes, broke Cassia down.

“Why doesn’t anyone understand me, Honey?” She cried, drawing the dog close, drying her eyes in the soft white fur. “I wish I had stayed home. I wish Mother had sent Thad instead. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be with the Armet already, and be done with witless Archia.”

“I wouldn’t call your sister witless.” In the door, leaning against the frame, was Cristo. His melodious voice floated through the room, surprising Cassia enough to get her to stop crying. “Open-minded, maybe. And optimistic enough that the old women would say her head was in the clouds. But certainly not witless.” Cassia was too stunned to speak. “But, judging by your lack of retort, perhaps you are.”

That got to her. “I am not witless. You surprised me.”

“If I recall correctly, that was my first impression on your sister.” Even in the low lighting, Cassia could see his amused expression. “May I come in?”

“It’s your house.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Yes, but it’s your room.” Cassia sighed, and nodded shortly. Cristo entered, still in his fisherman garb. He pulled over a rickety wooden chair from the corner and sat on it, facing Cassia, near the edge of her bed. “You seem to have upset Archia. She’s crying as we speak.” Cassia didn’t respond, she just watched her brother-in-law, trying to make sense of him. “I’ve told her not to worry, that you are merely tired, and have just recovered from a nightmare. If all goes well, she might even believe this confrontation was just a dream come tomorrow morning. I have a slight suspicion that this will not work on you.”

“What won’t work on me?” Honey’s head shot up as Cristo’s hand rose to a few feet in front of Cassia’s face. While she watched, a green mist began to leak from his fingertips into the air surrounding him.

“You’re a dream weaver.” She breathed, amazed, as never having met one before. Dream weavers were lesser mages, with no training and limited powers. The strongest dream weaver could cause hallucinations, as well as controlling others dreams. But they were rare. And Archia had married one.

“Yes, though one with limited power.” He smiled again, calling back his magic. “I mostly use it to calm. It helps me when I fish; once they are caught, they do not struggle. I lose less nets that way.”

“Is that why Archia fell in love with you?” Cassia asked, not being able to stop herself.

“No. She did that of her own accord. If I knew why I would tell you.” He sighed, rubbing Honey gently on the head. The dog did not protest, so Cassia saw no need to. “But she does know, don’t worry yourself about that.”

“A…and the baby?”

“She will be born with a similar gift, yes.” Cristo’s forehead wrinkled at that. “I do not know if I should call it a gift. Perhaps I should say curse. No matter.” He met Cassia’s eyes, his hazel ones conveying a sadness she could never know. “I understand that you believe I stole your sister, and in a way you are right. I would appreciate it if you would not tell her, though. As I said, she is very optimistic. And for now, she is happy. I would not go about ruining that for her.

“I understand.” Cassia said, biting her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared.”

“You have a right to be. Anything that the Armet are involved in is bound to be scary.” Cassia pondered this for a moment, and decided to ask.

“Cristo? What do you know about mermaids?”

“She-devils. If there are such a thing.” He smiled wryly. “They sink ships, tempt husbands, even attack outright if they are hungry enough.”

“Do they ever say things that come true?” He looked away at that. “Cristo?”

“I surely hope not.” She thought she heard him mutter. Then he faced her again. “Myth has it they do. At least when it comes to blood. And death. Their favorite topics.”

“I met one, on my way here.” Cassia whispered. “She said that there would be…blood. Spilled blood. Soon. I don’t know what that means...or if she was even telling the truth. I’m supposed to get the Armet, does that mean war?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. To be frank, I usually keep out of the affairs of war.” He chuckled, his voice low in the night. “If it comes to that, I believe Archia and I would set sail, to some colony where we would be safe until the baby was born, or at least until it was safe.”

There was an empty silence then, as Cassia thought of what she would do in the even of war. The chair squeaked as Cristo stood and moved it back to the corner.

“It’s time you went back to sleep. I believe you should stay another day, before you travel to the crossroads. So we could continue this conversation tomorrow.” Cassia tensed at the thought of going back to sleep, to face those eyes. Cristo’s voice softened. “I could help you get better rest, you know. My curse is good at that.” After a reflection, Cassia nodded, and lied back down on her pillow. A cool green hand lightly touched her forehead, and then she was drifting to sleep.


The next morning, Archia was cheerfully preparing breakfast when Cassia came into the kitchen, following the scent that had called Honey from sleep and therefore Cassia.

“Good morning.” She smiled, seemingly forgotten the events of last night. It seemed that Cristo really was that talented.

“Good morning.” Archia smiled and took a seat at the small table, barely able to accommodate two.

“Cristo left at sunrise, so we have the day to ourselves.” Archia smiled, placing a bowl of oat much in front of her, cinnamon scent floating up front it. She then took a seat opposite of her sister and began eating. Cassia took up a spoon and smiled, then began to eat as well. “What would you like to do? Shop? I have no real need for it but if you enjoy it-“

“You know I never liked to shop.” Cassia said, smiling. Archia smiled back, leaning back in her chair.

“That’s right. Well, we could go look at some books? Or walk by the beach? Or even paint a little, you would enjoy that-“

“Could we, perhaps, refill my food pack? After that I would love to just…talk?”

“Of course.” Archia said. After a silence, she looked up again. “How have you been? And mother and father? And Thad, and Padrig?”

“They’re all well.” Cassia said, a bit guiltily. She knew the only reason she felt compelled to ask was because of her “dream” from last night. “Thad’s taken a scholarship position in the Council’s libraries, so he’s very happy.”

“Is Merle as infatuated with him as ever?”

“Even more that you remember. Padrig gets to follow his big brother around everywhere, because then Merle gets to follow. Last month, he ended up running off in the market place because Merle was so busy gazing into Thad’s lovely green eyes.” The sisters giggled over this, but then Archia became serious.

“And what about you, Cassia? Have you found anyone’s eyes to get lost in.” Cassia stiffened at the question.

“What a ridiculous question, Archia. No boy in town has ever paid me any attention.”

“Of course not, you’re much too smart for them.” Archia smiled gently. “You’d be better off traveling the world with Honey for a few years, expanding the business and meet some sweet merchant who loves Honey as much as you do.”

Honey’s ears perked up at her name, and put her paws on Archia’s lap, begging for some food. Archia looked toward Cassia, her eyes sparkling. “Would it be alright if I gave her some of this for breakfast?”

“Of course.” Archia, with her protruding belly, was about to rise, but Cassia beat her to it. “No, no. Let me get it.” She spooned some of the oats from a large pot and put the bowl on the floor for Honey.

“Now, I’m sorry to say, but I’m going to have to play the overbearing older sister for a moment.” Cassia sat, looking over at her sister expectantly. “The Armet, while our only hope for protecting Father and the rest of us, are a rowdy bunch. You’re going to have to be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.” Cassia said, squirming in her seat.

“You don’t understand. These are soldiers who travel constantly. Town to town; city to city; woman to woman. They don’t understand boundaries, in that respect. And you’ll have to travel with them for days.” Archia stood, not without effort, and walked over to a wooden chest shoved to the corner. She opened it slowly, its rusted hinges creaking with the effort, and lifted out a small concealed blade. The sheath was plain black leather, the handle a simple gold. She walked back toward the table and handed it, handle first, to Cassia. The young girl took it and withdrew the blade from the sheath.

“Thank you.” Cassia said simply. The gratitude could not be expressed with words. Archia nodded. What do you know? Cassia thought. Maybe some of that sisterly understanding hadn’t been lost after all.

post 5

Cassia picked her way down the hill until she reached the sign. Twisting iron curlicues decorated the plain, wooden sign. The sign was the last mark of the blacksmith guild that inhabited the region, before the modern Arche government was established and the blacksmiths were forced into fishing.

Honey leaped to the ground and trotted at her heels. Stone cobbles clicked underfoot, but the few matrons hurrying down the street did not pay much attention to her. She ignored the somber, stone buildings at the beginning of the town, turning down a street towards the middle class, wooden shops and houses that ringed a circular center. She paused, gaping at the identical storefronts that regarded her silently. Cassia hunched her shoulders, as she peered into wide windows, trying desperately to gain a clue. At the end of the street, close to the fishermen’s huts, was a building that did not sport a sign. The large display window revealed a wooden floored room, spartan with a lush rug and two rocking chairs. Inside, a rotund young woman was rocking back and forth. Brown ringlets of hair framed the sides of her face as she worked on something. Something that looked suspiciously like a baby’s gown. Cassia took a deep breath and tried the door. It opened smoothly, the tinkle of wind chimes accompanying her entrance. The woman looked up, and Cassia felt a surge of relief. “Archia?”

“Cassia!” her sister’s face lit up. She struggled to get up as Cassia walked towards her. Her breath labored and as she stood, Cassia could see that Archia’s dress stretched tightly over her swollen stomach.

All of a sudden she felt tentative and shy. She had not seen Archia since before she had eloped, months ago. “How are you, Archia?”

Her sister laughed, and enveloped her in a careful hug. “I am wonderful, Cassia. Cristo is wonderful, and as you can see,” she gestured towards her conspicuous stomach, “we are to be blessed this season.” She grabbed Cassia’s fingers with a rough palm and placed it over her stomach. “Can’t you feel it? The healer says it is to be a girl!”

Cassia felt a soft kick under her hand, and a slow smile spread across her face. “That’s wonderful, Archia,” she whispered. She looked up at her sister’s face, alight with the joy of anticipation. She had always been pretty, but now her eyes were alive, her smile true. Archia looked happier than Cassia had ever seen her.
All of a sudden Cassia was again overwhelmed with the sadness and sense of betrayal that swamped her when Archia first ran off. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
Archia sighed, “I know. And I, you. But don’t you see?” Archia touched her belly gently. “I had to get away from the politics, the fighting, the struggle. I’m happy here, with Cristo.”

“I know,” said Cassia softly.

Archia tried to smile again. “Between you and me, you always were the one who liked the family business.” She stepped back, and took in the knapsack, and Honey, who regarded her with affectionate eyes. Her mouth twisted with amusement. “Your first mission, Cassia? Congratulations.”

Cassia warmed at the praise, but soured slightly when she remembered the apprehension that had been plaguing her all day. Archia touched her shoulder. Cassia looked up. “Something is bothering you,” her sister said simply. Cassia nodded.

Archia indicated the other rocking chair. “Come sit, and talk with me. Like we used to.”

Cassia was finishing the last of her tale when the door opened. She glanced up, startled. The sun had touched the horizon, distorting daytime colors and lengthening shadows and blurring lines. It darkened the features of the man that entered and rendered him as a large silhouette. Archia beamed up, the light in her face rekindled brighter now as she looked at the stranger. “Cristo, look who has come.”

The stranger moved away from the door. Light fell on his face. Earnest, hazel eyes gazed out from eyebrows perpetually knitted in thought. Rough stubble dotted his chin. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Welcome, Cassia. Archia has said much about you.”

Cassia smiled nervously and stood, aware now that she was sitting in Cristo’s chair. He waved her back, saying “You’re the guest here – besides, I’d better get working on our supper.”

Archia also rose to her feet. “I’ll help you.” Cristo nodded gratefully at her, offering an arm, which she took. Archia turned to Cassia, and Honey, who had fallen asleep. “I’ll show you the rest of the house, too, if you’d like. And we have a spare bedroom that you can use.”

“Alright.” Cassia gently deposited Honey into her knapsack and trailed Archia and Cristo. They opened a plain, beige door, which opened into a short, wood paneled hallway before opening into a spacious kitchen.

Cassia gaped as Archia pointed out the polished sand wood table, decorated by an assortment of sea pebbles scattered over its surface. Salty strings of seaweed were strung from the ceiling, tickling the nose and recalling distant memories of a childhood summer spent splashing in the beach. Drawings, finished and unfinished, tacked on walls, spread over stools, dominated the scene. “Are these yours, Archia?”
Archia grinned impishly. “They are indeed. I never even tried my hand at drawing until I met Cristo.” Cristo mirrored her grin, his eyes warm as he looked at his wife. Cassia glanced at one of the drawings on the wall. It was vast, covering several feet, and painted with large, watery strokes. A mermaid reclined on pale sand, which seemed to blend with the body. Jet black hair trickled in rivulets down her face, obscuring all but her red eyes. Cassia gestured towards the mess and grinned. “Father wouldn’t approve.” Their father, a proponent of practicality and efficiency, would balk at the extra clutter.

“Father needn’t know.” Archia retorted. She glanced apologetically at Cristo before stepping away and towards the flight of stairs tucked behind a corner. “I’ll show you your room, so you can settle Honey.” Still grinning, Cassia followed her sister up the stairs, keeping a sharp eye on her as Archia labored to climb.

“This is a nice house,” Cassia remarked as they stepped onto the landing.

“It is,” agreed Archia. “Cristo had a hand in its construction, you know. And he promised that once the baby arrives, I can paint the walls, and garden with him.”
Cassia snorted, “You hate gardening.”

Archia smiled blissfully, “Not any longer.”

Cassia raised her eyebrows. Archia stopped at an ornate doorway, carved like the likeness of a grape vine, wooden tendrils fading into the wall. “To be honest, Cassia, there are many things about myself that I discovered after I met Cristo. I suppose that is why I fell for him at first. Those things they say, about finding your other half. They’re true, you know. That’s how I feel about him.”

Cassia gazed at her sister, and was startled to realize that they were almost eye to eye. Cassia had gained the last few inches during the time Archia had left. “I suppose I don’t know you anymore, then,” she said before she could stop herself.

Archia laid a hand on her shoulder. “You will always be my sister, and a great friend.” She told her, “and we can start afresh, and know each other once again.” She smiled, though her eyes begged for understanding. “You can come down when you’re ready – or I’ll call you.”

Cassia watched her sister walk away, and backed into the room, feeling for the bed. “But I will never be your best friend. Cristo will always be better,” she murmured. She settled back against the soft sheets, hugging Honey’s warm, sleeping form close to her, gazing into the dark. Then, before she could help it, sleep snatched her away.

---This isn't part of the story---

There hasn't been a post in nearly a week. Why? Crane has been busy. In fact, she's also busy today. I am not busy, have not been busy, and probably will not ever be truly busy. The fact of the matter is, I have no life.

So Crane asked me to write the next post. And I will. But just so I don't deprive her of a post, she'll just get to write two in a row next time.

Well, I guess that's that. I'd better get to typing.

Farewell, my non-existent readers.

~Beads