as the white light
sprang into being. The light gathered in pools at her fingertips, flowing in
luminous veins along the back of her hands before fading to nothing along her
arms. It was strangely beautiful.
Mother and daughter sat in silence, faces bathed
in a warm glow.
Chapter Ten
They left Edgewatch without fanfare beyond
parting tears that betrayed the falsity of their cover story. Tyrissa slept as
they drove through the night, lulled by the rhythmic grind and strike of wheels
and horseshoes against the ancient stones of the Fjordway. Liran’s wagon was
just large enough to serve as an acceptable bed if enough compromises were made
in regards to comfort. It was already mid-morning when she awoke to a pang of
hunger and went rummaging through their modest supplies. Liran heard her
shifting in the wagon, and looked over his shoulder.
“Good morning sister. Welcome to the glade
formerly known as Mateth.”
Only younger trees lined this stretch of the
roadway. Old stone columns, the remnants of hearths and chimneys, stood among
the saplings and regrowth. Once a village, these ruins were far along in the
process of being reabsorbed by the southern reaches of the Morgwood. Here, the
stillness of the forest had all the comfort of a tomb.
“Did you know it?”
“Not really. I remember passing through when I
was six. The Cleanse was over and we were going home from Greden to what was
left of Edgewatch, a home I never knew.”
Tyrissa found a piece of bread and dug in.
“You know the Rudbecks? The tanner’s family? They
used to live here”
“Yeah,” she nodded between bites, “I played with
their youngest, Alfred, growing up. He asked me to dance at this past Midsummer’s
feast, even after I broke his nose two weeks before. By accident,” she added
quickly.
“That explains how he got uglier. I was friends
with his elder brother. Turns out there was a group of Pactbound holding out in
Mateth, hiding among the residents. The army torched the place not a week after
we passed through. The Rudbecks were deemed ‘clean’ and allowed to resettle in
Edgewatch, after a fashion. Karl saw the whole thing. Said people he thought he
knew fought without fear or pity, some without weapons, clawing and biting.
Pure madness. They fought like…”
“Like daemons,” Tyrissa finished for him. Liran’s
story wasn’t uncommon. King Horald spent the initial years of his rule hunting
down holdouts, some hiding in the wilderness, others within plain sight in
cities.
“Right,” he said, nodding at the passing ruins.
“That’s the only Cleanse story I have. Don’t remember much else, thank the
gods.”
“Did mother ever tell you…” she left the rest
unsaid.
“No. No, that was all news to me. I remember that
she was gone for a long time. It might as well have been forever. Father served
around Greden, and took care of us with Grandma Jo. He was home more often in
winter, so those were better times. I suppose even daemons prefer warmer
weather. When mother returned, I recognized her, but she felt like a stranger,
a distant relative instead of my mother.” Liran shook his head, seeming to try
to jostle childhood memories loose. “Hell, hard to say I even remember those
days. Most of what I know Corgell told me. He’s old enough to remember it all,
more or less.
“It’s for the best that I don’t remember. There’s
a certain… paralysis among our people. The scars run so deep, deeper than you
can know until you leave and see what it’s like elsewhere. Call it a shared
cultural guilt that holds us back, and for all the talk of moving forward, all
the rebuilding we’ve done there’s still a sense that we’ll only go so far
before settling back into a comfortable constant. That’s why I left, Ty. That’s
why I went south.”
“When did it become a week of sharing old stories
and inner thoughts,” Tyrissa said, trying to lighten their talk. The last few
days were far too grim.
Liran gave her a grin,
sprang into being. The light gathered in pools at her fingertips, flowing in
luminous veins along the back of her hands before fading to nothing along her
arms. It was strangely beautiful.
Mother and daughter sat in silence, faces bathed
in a warm glow.
Chapter Ten
They left Edgewatch without fanfare beyond
parting tears that betrayed the falsity of their cover story. Tyrissa slept as
they drove through the night, lulled by the rhythmic grind and strike of wheels
and horseshoes against the ancient stones of the Fjordway. Liran’s wagon was
just large enough to serve as an acceptable bed if enough compromises were made
in regards to comfort. It was already mid-morning when she awoke to a pang of
hunger and went rummaging through their modest supplies. Liran heard her
shifting in the wagon, and looked over his shoulder.
“Good morning sister. Welcome to the glade
formerly known as Mateth.”
Only younger trees lined this stretch of the
roadway. Old stone columns, the remnants of hearths and chimneys, stood among
the saplings and regrowth. Once a village, these ruins were far along in the
process of being reabsorbed by the southern reaches of the Morgwood. Here, the
stillness of the forest had all the comfort of a tomb.
“Did you know it?”
“Not really. I remember passing through when I
was six. The Cleanse was over and we were going home from Greden to what was
left of Edgewatch, a home I never knew.”
Tyrissa found a piece of bread and dug in.
“You know the Rudbecks? The tanner’s family? They
used to live here”
“Yeah,” she nodded between bites, “I played with
their youngest, Alfred, growing up. He asked me to dance at this past Midsummer’s
feast, even after I broke his nose two weeks before. By accident,” she added
quickly.
“That explains how he got uglier. I was friends
with his elder brother. Turns out there was a group of Pactbound holding out in
Mateth, hiding among the residents. The army torched the place not a week after
we passed through. The Rudbecks were deemed ‘clean’ and allowed to resettle in
Edgewatch, after a fashion. Karl saw the whole thing. Said people he thought he
knew fought without fear or pity, some without weapons, clawing and biting.
Pure madness. They fought like…”
“Like daemons,” Tyrissa finished for him. Liran’s
story wasn’t uncommon. King Horald spent the initial years of his rule hunting
down holdouts, some hiding in the wilderness, others within plain sight in
cities.
“Right,” he said, nodding at the passing ruins.
“That’s the only Cleanse story I have. Don’t remember much else, thank the
gods.”
“Did mother ever tell you…” she left the rest
unsaid.
“No. No, that was all news to me. I remember that
she was gone for a long time. It might as well have been forever. Father served
around Greden, and took care of us with Grandma Jo. He was home more often in
winter, so those were better times. I suppose even daemons prefer warmer
weather. When mother returned, I recognized her, but she felt like a stranger,
a distant relative instead of my mother.” Liran shook his head, seeming to try
to jostle childhood memories loose. “Hell, hard to say I even remember those
days. Most of what I know Corgell told me. He’s old enough to remember it all,
more or less.
“It’s for the best that I don’t remember. There’s
a certain… paralysis among our people. The scars run so deep, deeper than you
can know until you leave and see what it’s like elsewhere. Call it a shared
cultural guilt that holds us back, and for all the talk of moving forward, all
the rebuilding we’ve done there’s still a sense that we’ll only go so far
before settling back into a comfortable constant. That’s why I left, Ty. That’s
why I went south.”
“When did it become a week of sharing old stories
and inner thoughts,” Tyrissa said, trying to lighten their talk. The last few
days were far too grim.
Liran gave her a grin,
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