Chapter 3: Refrain from Sorrow
Forsaken Dreams
"What in all of Lafleur do you long for, Afina?" Gormlaith asked her sister defensively. "You have the love of your Lady, a fine parcel of land, a city who adore you. I cannot fathom a single want you might have."
The temple in Thornwood Hallow was overtaken with vines of the poisonous forest rose that Salora loved. Silver blossoms were abundant on each of the five columns and near every surface. That set Gormlaith on edge, like any moment she could be scratched and find her grave in the unfamiliar space.
Linna stepped between Gormlaith and Afina. "Says the woman who longs for freedom but begs for captivity."
"Says the woman who has all she wants, and yet still desires more," Gormlaith shot back at the youngest of the sisters.
Afina pushed the two of them apart, looking between them as she spoke. "We will accomplish nothing if we argue so," she growled. "We are Mavi. And we are sisters. We should act as such."
"I'm sorry, sister," Linna whined.
Gormlaith thought about why they were gathered in the Thornwood without Lynae and Aeluin. Afina had requested Gormlaith's presence, begging for assistance with some desperate dream. She had marvelled at how long her sister's hair had become while they enjoyed peace.
"I've asked you here to share wisdom. Knowledge if you have it. And help," Afina said without malice. "I know the snowpetal may prolong life. Or a semblance of it."
"By stark contrast to the silverthorn," Gormlaith scoffed. "But that is all it does. I cannot restore life. Though I've heard rumours it may be possible, so long as life has not long gone from the body."
"How?" Linna seemed too excited.
Gormlaith thought for a time. "Goldroot improves life where it lives. Voidstem gives life its joy. Bloodleaf allows rest. But all of that requires something more. A vessel. And a sacrifice."
I threw off my blanket and stumbled into the early dawn light. Eliana was there, as I knew she would be, preparing breakfast over the embers of the fire left from the night before. She, graciously, didn't comment that I was not clothed for public eyes.
"Write this down for me," I said in a gasp, not waiting for her to stop what she was doing. "Goldroot, voidstem, bloodleaf, silverthorn. A way to stave off death."
She dropped the ladle she'd been using to stir breakfast – a porridge of some sort – and ran to collect her journal. "Say that again. Slower."
I repeated my words, waiting for her to signal she'd gotten it down before adding, "And a garden called Thornwood Hallow."
"More dreams, I suppose?" She set her journal down far more gently than she'd handled the ladle before looking me over. "Now go get dressed before my beau rises, sees you, and rises again."
The blush that drew from me was a betrayal at the deepest level. "I told you. He is not what I want, nor what I wait for. And neither are you, for what it's worth." I retreated into my tent and clothed myself as she mused.
"No men. No women." Her words were idle observation.
I stepped back out, pants and blouse in place. "And no romance."
"Then what, pray," her brow furrowed, "is it you want, Nyxara?"
My answer was slow. Deliberate. Patient. "Quiet." She frowned at me. "Quiet," I continued, "and perhaps someone who understands."
A smile spread across her face. "Well that's one place we can certainly agree. I don't know where I'd be without Tareth to calm my nerves."
"In Primrose Manor. Probably yelling about how those Thornleaf women are nothing but trouble, and their men are hussies and thugs." My humour landed well enough, catching a giggle from her. "Trust, the whole town knows what Primrose women fuss about. Never mind that not a single Thornleaf has visited our fair hamlet in seven generations or more."
"Perhaps that's why I followed Tareth," she said airily. "I never really understood their rage about a whole family."
Tareth finally surfaced from his rest about the time Eliana finished cooking breakfast. The moment she saw him, she rushed over and nearly tackled the man, showering him with kisses.
"I'm glad to see you, too, El," he said around her face as it bounced around his. "But can I please eat before holding you up like this?"
She released her legs from around his hips and jumped down. "Right. Sorry. I just got excited."
He looked my way. "Any progress on whatever all of this is about?"
"Just ever more disappointment that I didn't discover more details delving into volumes at the library to maybe make this all make sense."
Eliana shot me a look. "Don't lie. You had another dream. I took notes." She moved back to her journal and opened it to show Tareth. "Now we have names for the five flowers. Even if the names sound fake."
"You know I can't read that," he said with a flat expression. "It just looks like scratch marks, El."
She shook her head. "And I've told you to learn what those scratch marks mean. Anyway. Goldroot, silverthorn, snowpetal, voidstem, bloodleaf."
He rubbed his lightly whiskered chin – he must not have brought a razor with which to shave it – as he considered. "They don't sound fake necessarily," he said eventually. "It's more that they sound like someone didn't bother coming up with something more practical. There's a flower called Dream Scarlet that my mother used to grind up and sprinkle on bread when I couldn't sleep. You know what the flower is by what it does."
I considered it a long while as my breakfast went cold. There was a lot of value in his words. Why would the plants have such plain names? Sure, goddesses didn't need to be showy. But they could be. And yet they weren't.
"Write this down, Eliana," I said as the thought crystalised. "Gold for life, silver for doom, obsidian dreams, ivory tomb, and bloody rest comes soon."
"You're terrible at this," she teased, quickly scratching it next to the rest of her notes. "But I'll hold onto it."
Ivory, Introduced
We made excellent time crossing the plains toward the mountains. After a few sevensuns, I was convinced we'd see the base of the mountain sooner rather than later. What I hadn't expected was to find Ivory.
Not the material called ivory, but a small village that had sprung up as a waypoint between Greywatch Spire and a town further marward than phobward. Apparently, the first building in the village had been a tavern called Ivory Hawk. As travellers arrived and failed to leave, they started setting down roots and expanding. Eventually a modest village stood four sevensuns from the mountains and a mere three sevensuns from the Spire.
My surprise wasn't tempered by the shared shock of my sheepish shipmates.
"Why is there a town in the middle of the road?" Eliana's horror when it came into view was an ancient thing, begging propriety from the grass itself.
I laughed, shocking them both to a point. "A more interesting question, Miss Primrose, is why our road runs through the middle of their town."
No one really spoke after that until we passed the first building in town, when a young person ran up to us and stood directly in our path.
"What ya doin in Ivory, new folks?" I almost didn't understand the words, but they pieced together slowly as I took in the child. Maybe eleven at the oldest. They wore the clothes of a woman, but they had the presence of a man. It was fascinating to observe them.
"Passing through," I replied, pointing to the mountains, "on our way up there."
They turned to follow my gesture then looked back at me. "Gonna be here long? Or ya gonna skip on without stoppin?"
"We hadn't planned to stop, but we also didn't know about ... Ivory, was it?" They nodded excitedly. "I suppose my companions and I could use a sun or so of rest, though. Does Ivory have good water and soft beds?"
"The well's full, and the tavern's empty, so I'd wager yes," their speech continued to confound me.
"My name is Nyxara, young friend." Indicating my companions, I continued. "This one is Eliana, that one Tareth," I lifted the warhammer from Tareth's shoulders, "and this thing is a nuisance I can't get rid of."
They held out their hands, and I offered the weapon to them. As I released its weight, the thing slammed into the ground, uncompelled by any effort they made. "That's really heavy. My name's Kettle. If you're gonna stay in town, you'd do well to remember it." They met my gaze and gestured limply at the warhammer.
"Well Kettle, it's a pleasure to meet you." I poked Tareth, and he barely lifted the warhammer from the ground despite an impressive effort and slung it back over his shoulder. "Lead us to the tavern, and tell us more about Ivory."
Calling Ivory a town or even a village was absurd at best. Fifteen houses and a modest tavern. They had some fields sporting vegetables in a layout that densely packed crops of varying types together. And there was a small ranch on one side of town with various meat-supporting livestock. Otherwise, they were just an ordinary community.
The tavern, which I previously mentioned was called the Ivory Hawk, was seven rooms and a bar. The whole town gathered there for communal meals, giving everyone exposure to visitors in roughly short form. It was quaint and homey.
I had the notion that were more places like Ivory, the world may be more peaceful. Much slower at least. And I couldn't say that was a bad thing necessarily.
Kettle had been correct that the tavern had no guests. I had to argue with Tareth that we should take two rooms rather than one. He was insistent that we should save our coin. I was insistent that we didn't really need coin if the next part of our journey would take us into the mountains.
Eliana was the tie-breaking vote. "We're not married, Tareth," she said practically, "so even if we share a tent while travelling, we can't really share a room in town. Yet." She smiled at me, knowing her words were the opposite of my intent for two rooms. "We'll take two rooms, and I'll share space with Nyxara while you sleep alone. Proper."
By the time we'd fully settled at the tavern, a crowd had gathered. Word had spread that visitors had arrived. I tried and failed to hide from the crowd, Eliana pulling me toward the largest concentration of new faces to introduce me to what she called 'potentially eligible distractions'.
I politely declined before being dragged bodily by Tareth to a separate gathering.
"Hey you," one of the people said, "Kettle says you've got a nifty little trinket you're dying to get rid of, but they couldn't lift it."
Shaking my head, I explained. "It's a warhammer. And apart from Tareth, I've found no one else who can lift it, let alone carry it."
"Well," the person's liquor-soaked word accosted me freely, "I think everyone here," they gestured to the whole group, "would like a crack at the thing."
A cheer went up, and I shrugged before conceding. "Fine. But if anyone throws their back out, then it's your problem."
I'd left the warhammer in my room in the tavern, insisting that Tareth shouldn't have sole responsibility for it – though he did protest that it was no trouble – given that it seemed to love being my burden. As I returned to the barroom, the lamplight seemed to dance along the polished surface I'd only tended to the once two moons prior.
Each person in the group took a try. Men, women, others. Not one managed to budge the warhammer beyond simply knocking it onto its side. As they went round-robin taking turns embarrassing themselves, more of the town gathered around us, working their way into the rotation. Save one person who sat in the corner eating their supper.
"Tareth, keep an eye on this. Recruit anyone who can put it on their back," I said the words absently, but he seemed to follow. Waving back at him, I pushed through the crowd and closed the gap between myself and the mystery.
"Why do they keep trying when they've already failed," they said as I approached. It wasn't a question. It was an accusation. "Makes no sense. Either you've cheated somehow – not likely, since you and your companion seem okay – or it's a magic hammer."
My brows shot up. "How much do you believe the words you just said?"
"Enough that I'd say them to you." They met my gaze and snarled. It was kind of endearing. "So you must be Nyxara."
"I am, though I can't say why I must be."
Their expression turned to a predatory smile. "Because you're clearly the third wheel of the group."
"Your perceptions rival your wit," it was meant as a compliment. When they laughed, I breathed a relieved sigh. "I haven't caught your name, friend."
As their feet touched the floor, a cold-flame seemed to arrest their fall. White, like mine. Rare. "There's a good girl," they said coyly. "I wondered how long it would take to demand an introduction."
"Would you prefer I do it like the nobility?" I teased as I bowed and took their hand. "Nyxara of Greywatch Spire. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, dear heart. May I have the name of one so bold as to taunt me?"
They doubled over in laughter, falling to the tavern floor and attracting the attentions of everyone in the room. No one moved to interrupt us, probably as taken aback as I was. I reached down to help them to their feet when their breath began to steady, and they took it graciously.
"You are a delight, Nyxara of Greywatch Spire. Go tell the woman behind the bar that you need to get a drink for Micah. Tell them I'll cover whatever you're having. And then come back and tell me what someone so brilliant is doing so far from 'polite society'."