Chapter 2: A Spire's Verse
Dreams Remembered
I knew they were coming before they arrived. It had happened exactly that way before. The Aerie's call would win out, as it did every time. And the Spire would provide for the new Scion the only way it could: companions.
So when Tareth and his lady were waiting for me, I couldn't count myself entirely surprised.
"Ho! Nyxara!" Tareth called from the fork in the road, the hideous warhammer I'd left behind slung over his shoulder. "When the guards told me you had gone, I was certain we wouldn't catch you up, yet somehow we passed you."
"Tareth, you didn't have to come," I shook my head, knowing full well nothing would change his mind. Certainly not, if I knew anything of his family. "And you shouldn't have brought your belle."
Her offence was unconcealed as she reacted. "I'm not simply his belle, Nyxara. I'm also a healer." She clung tighter to Tareth's arm. "And even if I weren't, I'd still be coming along with him. He's too stubborn to have let you go alone." She snarled. "So really this is your fault."
My head hung heavy. There was little point in protest or provocation. I could have stayed. Or I could have begged for assistance. I chose neither.
"Now, Eliana," Tareth's voice was calm. Apparently he was accustomed to Eliana being a bit adversarial. "You could have stayed behind. I can't imagine your mother is terribly pleased that the next Primrose matriarch just vanished without a word."
A Primrose? I could use that. As long as her family raised her right, she would be well-read. That meant she'd have the means to unravel some of the mysteries about Gormlaith. I resolved to give her a shot.
"And I can't imagine," she yanked on his arm, "you out here alone with the weirdo baker."
That almost derailed me, but I took a quick quiet breath before clarifying. "I'm sorry, Eliana was it?" Hopefully, she'd believe me on my explanation. "Your beau has nothing to fret from me. Nor I from him. Frankly, I'm flummoxed that he felt driven to follow on."
She swatted the warhammer Tareth carried then made another hideous face. "If you hadn't left this thing behind, he might have let you leave."
I hadn't considered it, but it was strange he managed to carry the warhammer at all, let alone quickly enough to get ahead of me on the route toward the Aerie. How did he even know which direction to travel. None of this made sense, so I supposed it was to be expected that things would continue to confound.
"I assume," my voice was weary, "you'll continue on with me whether I agree or not, yes?" Tareth nodded. "Then fine. I suppose I'll welcome your company. At least the road won't be quiet by myself."
That eve, I was visited by dreams again, a scourge I'd hoped would subside when I succumbed to the Aerie's call.
Gormlaith was seated in a great temple with her sisters. The temple had five platforms, one of which was raised higher than the others. Between the women was a table, shaped the same as the temple. Upon it sat five flowers. I only recognised the one: snowpetal.
"Sisters," one of the women spoke. Gormlaith knew her as Afina the Warrior. She was not their leader, but she had called them together. "The time for peace is upon us. We will not be together for a time."
The youngest sister, Linna, was the first to respond. "Dear Afina," tears welled in her eyes, "if we are torn apart, who will care for me?"
Afina smiled kindly to the girl. "There is nothing to worry over, my red-eyed darling. Your Lady is the finest caretaker any has known."
"Besides," one called Aeluin stepped in to reassure, "there is a road straight from the Shroud to the Crucible. If you need anything, call me. No matter how small."
"Right! And me as well," the final sister Lynae grinned widely. "I've always longed to visit the Crucible."
Gormlaith said nothing. She instead worried over something just on the edge of her awareness. This meeting would be the final gathering of the original Mavi. Her Lady and Salora had surmised as much when the great peace began.
Each woman took her own flower and left at a different exit to the temple.
I awoke to the smells of smoke and salt. Tareth had sparked a campfire before we slept, and he must have revived it for breakfast. He and Eliana were cooing at each other.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Eliana's voice was already grating, and she knew it, so the effort she put into making it worse was dreadful. "Breakfast will be ready soon. Tareth and I have been cooking for so long. I know you'll love it."
Ignoring her efforts to be whatever she was, I set to a useful task. Putting as much sweetness as I could muster into my voice, I asked. "Do you speak Old Fleurian, by chance?" I could make it out, but its poetic form was difficult. "I know the Primrose family tend to cling to the old ways, and if you'd be willing to help, I'd appreciate you."
Her expression shifted. Disappointment. "I do. And I read and write it."
"Would you mind writing something for me, then?" She might not trust me, and I might not want her around, but goddesses around us, she would be useful.
Eliana rushed to the tent she shared with Tareth and returned with a journal and graphite. "Ready."
My dictation was slow and deliberate. "Five women. Five flowers. Five sides. Red, black, white, silver, gold. Linna, Aeluin, Gormlaith, Afina, Lynae." As she finished writing, Eliana met my gaze, begging for more. "That's it for now," I said, "thank you for your help."
"Why, if you don't mind my asking, does it need to be in Old Fleurian?" She was smart, I had to give her that. "Especially if you can barely read it yourself?"
How could I tell her or anyone that I dreamed of long-dead warriors who served a goddess time itself had forgotten and only a faint lingering of proper Old Fleurian connected me to any part of it?
"It's complicated, but someone I know used to say that language is the only thing in our world that can never die." Gormlaith's first successor had believed that with their whole heart. They were the first one I dreamed of. "So I prefer Old Fleurian for things that need remembering."
She didn't press further. And breakfast was served only a minute later. It proved an excellent preoccupation against a pestering Primrose. And it tasted great too.
When at last breakfast came to a close, I had one more question I needed answered. "Tareth," addressing him directly was a risk, apparently, with Eliana present, but what could be done, "is that warhammer heavy to you?"
He turned his head toward the spot he'd leaned it against a tree. "Well, it's not the lightest thing in Lafleur, but it's certainly not the heaviest I've lifted. Gave me hells getting it off your wall, but once it was on my back, I hardly noticed the thing." His brow furrowed and he looked back at me. "Why do you ask?"
I told him the story of the weaver hawk. How the hammer had been the burden to bring the bird down. He hadn't known about it, somehow, but Eliana ooh'd and aah'd at the tale as though it cleared things up. I told him of dragging it about the whole region and chucking it into lakes. That pulled a laugh from him.
"Sounds like it's meant to be with you," Tareth said at length, laughing at a thought. "Not terribly shocking though. I swear, it damn near yanked me off the road a few times before I turned this direction. But I'll gladly bear the load for you. At least, as long as it lets me."
Fireside, Fearless
The mountains of the Aerie were visible from Greywatch Spire, but that didn't mean the journey was short. At least two sevensuns stood between us and our destination. And that was assuming we had horses. But instead, we were stuck on foot. Somehow not one of the three of us thought to bring a horse.
"So tell me again," Eliana's voice was tiresome, and her tone was irritable, "why exactly we're travelling. Where we're travelling."
I sighed deeply. It was the tenth time she'd asked in three suns since she and her beau had encroached on my solitude. Not to be ungrateful, I shot her a winning scowl and answered. Yet again. "Short answer is that there's a poem I found in the library's archives, and I want to confirm it."
Of course, she wasn't satisfied. "Tell me the long answer."
"A long line of warriors serving a long-dead goddess at the top of the mountain. Dreams I shouldn't have. A warhammer, and a pile of flowers."
When I didn't expand any of it, she threw her hands up. "Fine. If you won't give me the long answer, then at least give me an honest one."
I took her by the shoulders and held her as close as I could, our breaths mingling. "I'm going because I got tired of not going. That's as good as I can give you."
Shoving her away from me, I continued on the path. I knew Tareth would catch his belle without issue, so there was no risk of harm in my actions. The man had a way of being there when something went wrong, catching her when she tripped or slipped or fell. It was impressive.
"Hey, uh," I spun on one foot at the sound of Tareth's voice, "I know you're going through some things. But we just want to understand you better. Be better friends to you."
"Fine." I sounded like a child who'd been caught stealing treats. "Let's make camp early, and I'll do what I can to get you caught up to speed."
Tents were up, fire was hot, food was served. It was fast. Efficient. I didn't like to admit it, but having them along was really helpful. Had I been going it alone, I'd still have to wait at least an hour for food, and I might give up on trying to manage a tent.
We sat by the fire in silence for a while. They were still making their weird little cooing noises, and I was fighting back against the song that kept trying to hum itself in my voice. The whole thing would've been idyllic if not for the weight of it all.
"How far back do you need me to go for you to understand?" My words were sudden. I was connecting the stars above, drawing an imaginary line from Deim to Phob and looking for a third point somewhere between them when they burst forth. "Because this goes back longer than I remember. At least since we were children. Before my Nan was taken for the war."
Everyone in town knew what had happened. Nan had been taken because she was a scholar, and the war effort was short on scholars and strategists. If she wasn't careful, Eliana would be noticed by the queen and taken as well. That was just life in Lafleur.
"And maybe it goes further back than me," I continued, uncertain how much I should tell them. How much I could. "Nan's sister was like me. And I've done a lot of reading in the last seven moons or so. She wasn't the first either."
The fact I had been studying a lot recently was not lost on most folks in Greywatch Spire. What I'd been reading about was the real mystery. Eliana seemed to perk up at the mention of it. So she was curious.
"I'm going to ask you three stupid questions. Or one stupid question about three different things." I made eye contact with Eliana, who smiled weakly with just her mouth. "Have you ever heard or read about the history of religion in Lafleur? Like before the Liatris family. There used to be five goddesses. And they worked together. It's just a myth. That's what the queen says."
Eliana tilted her head gently to the side, her brow knitting together. "Is this about the notes you had me take a few suns past?" She stood up, nearly knocking Tareth over in the process, and ran to their tent before returning with her journal. "Before you keep going, let me get the first part down."
I didn't say anything for a few seconds as Eliana furiously scratched out notes on the first part. When she looked up, I continued. "One of the goddesses lived near the Spire." I pointed toward the mountains that didn't seem to have gotten any closer in several suns of travel. "She and her daughter tended a garden of flowers called mountain iris, snowpetal."
When she finished writing, she didn't look up. Instead, Eliana traced a finger around the page she was writing on. Up, then around, then back, then down. "Gormlaith," she said at last before meeting my gaze, a proud look on her face. I nodded confirmation. "I knew there was a reason you said them in the order you did."
"Since I was tiny, I've dreamed of women who followed Gormlaith into the mountains and tended the garden." I fought back the weight in my throat as I remembered their lonely vigil. "But their garden had five different flowers. Arranged the same as I had you write them. They've been waiting for something. For someone."
Tareth had been listening passively, but he spoke up then. "Are you planning to stay up there if you find the garden?"
"I don't really know," I admitted softly.
"Well let's put that on hold a moment," Eliana was far cheerier than she had any right to be. "For now, we can just rest. And if we find something grand up there," she waved generally in the direction of the mountains, "then we can decide. Together." She made an ugly face around a playful smile. "I may not like you, yet —"
"Lies," Tareth interrupted her. "If she didn't like you, she'd have tossed rocks at your head like she did me when we met."
A laugh overtook me. "As I recall, you were five when you met each other," I observed. "Of course she threw rocks at you." I might not have known her name, but I knew the story well enough.
Eliana cleared her throat. "As I was saying, I may not like you, yet —"
"Look out Tareth," I teased, "your belle might try to run off with the weirdo baker when she realises she does, in fact, like me yet."
She huffed around Tareth's jolly laughter. "I was going to say that Tareth says you're good people, but now I'm not so sure he's right." She stuck out her tongue like a child. "Anyway. For now, let's just hold off. The truth will come when it comes." A moment's pause and a bright smile passed before she concluded. "Or I'll have Tareth take that hammer to your head and bash it out of you."