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After entrusting Cilna with the hot infusion he’d just finished concocting, Kaj busied himself preparing compresses for the wounds.
Then the young woman called out for him in desperation. “KAJ!”
He rushed over to her. Five ailing and wounded hunters were beginning, one by one, to tremble and squirm. Before long, they were all dead. Their wounds had been infected by the teeth and claws of lalks, demonic wolves whose packs numbered many across all of Elelreel. Cilna was motionless beside Kaj, staring at the hunters’ bodies.
“You didn’t think to check the wounds?” asked Kaj, in time.
Petrified, she stammered incomprehensibly, and moreover, in the heat of the moment she had dropped what little of the potion had remained.
“By all that’s holy!” he shouted, picking up the cauldron and ladle. “How thoughtless can you be? I risked my life for those roots, and then you go and waste them like this! The brew was supposed to be enough for tomorrow morning, too!” he cried. “Get out of here.”
Cilna ran away crying, and the door closed with a dull thud.
III
Snow-bearing clouds were gathering in the north, over the peaks of the Icemount. The frigid winds accompanied Clarice, who had left the village many hours ago to meet with an old friend. Her quick and confident strides belied her confusion; she was beginning to entertain the notion that perhaps this journey had not been entirely in vain. Perhaps she had found what she was looking for. She had bet it all on that human, flouting strict rules in the process, and as such she felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders more than ever. Nearing the slopes of the Hallowed Heights, she slowed down to try to and catch sight of her friend. Soon enough, she spotted her approaching wearily.
“I’m sorry I made you travel so far,” said Clarice.
They greeted each other by gripping each other’s wrists, and didn’t waste any time with useless small talk. They repasted, and just before dark, they said their goodbyes before Clarice retraced her steps back.
When the nalnir returned, she visited the sanctuary to find Kaj crouching on the floor, sad and disconsolate.
“So many have died, and so many more will die. Spilling tears over their bodies will do nothing for them,” she told him.
Kaj looked up at her; she was leaning against the doorjamb with her hands clasped. “None of this seems to worry you very much.”
She shook her head. “If you let this get you down, then you’re not fit to fight,” she replied, intending to spur him on.
“Maybe I don’t fight for that very reason,” retorted Kaj. “Well, I don’t fight, but that doesn’t mean I can’t. I do my part, and nobody else takes on the responsibilities I do…”
“The way I see it, you’re hiding from the problem,” opined Clarice. She turned to leave, and Kaj ran after her towards the entryway.
“Look after your wounded while you still can.”
“You’re not getting away this time,” he said, as he sensed she was hiding something from him. “You disappear, only to come back to judge me some more. Didn’t you say Fenan was on just ‘on the way’ for you?”
“It’s up to me how long I stay here.”
“I understand that full well. But over the past few days, you seemed reluctant to stay here.”
“There’s a reason I’m staying here in Fenan. I don’t know what your problem is, but whatever it is, I suggest you resolve it.”
Kaj frowned, speechless.
The nalnir took a bag from her belt and put it in his hand. “Put a pinch of this in a bowl of hot water for each of them. They won’t heal, but it’ll give them some relief.” Then she turned around and closed the door behind her.
Kaj was even more confused than before. He opened the bag and looked at the powder inside. Then, as if gripped by a sudden frenzy, he went to heat up some water.
The streets were deserted, and people were afraid to be milling about in the dark of the night, as it brought with it orcs and demonic beasts. That evening, Kaj left the sanctuary, pleased to be breathing in some fresh hair and smelling the strong aroma of heki wood. Heki trees had a balsamic and resinous extract, similar to larches. They were widespread only in Draelia, and their wood was used for hearths. The days were getting shorter, the temperatures colder. As Kaj headed home, a cold wind made him hold faster to his cloak and increase his pace. He heard the laughter of the children in the nearby houses, and the lights of the lanterns and candles flickered behind their windows’ curtains.
Near his house, he spotted a hooded Clarice wrapped in her cloak, leaning against a tree trunk.
“I thought you’d gone again.”
“As you can see, that’s not the case,” she replied.
“Where will you spend the night? Do you already have a room at the tavern?”
“Don’t worry about me. If all else fails, I have my pelt of fur.”
“It’s very cold out here, and it’ll only get worse as the night deepens.”
“I know. That won’t be a problem.”
Kaj shrugged. “Then I won’t insist. But I’ll leave the door open for you, just in case.”
“Do you have anything strong to offer me?” she asked before Kaj crossed the threshold.
“I might,” he said, bidding her inside with a jerk of the head.
Kaj took off his cloak and hung it on a hook on the wall. Clarice lowered her hood and observed the house closely.
“Want to hand me your cloak?” asked Kaj.
“I’ll put it on the chair.”
The first thing she noticed was how cozy and welcoming the small house was, defying her expectations. There were bunches of many types of herbs hanging here and there, while others were carefully preserved in jars. The bottles placed in the cupboard stood out in particular, and a stone mortar sat next to them, along with a stack of bowls, some glasses, and a few spoons. A big knife was stuck in one corner of the cabinet, with some cheese and apples nearby. The two doors at the bottom of the cabinet surely concealed the rest of the supplies.
A very damaged wooden table lay at the center of the room, with two chairs next to it, and two stools near the wall. A pile of wood and two buckets of water sat adjacent to the hearth. A handful of candles, placed here and there (with pools of hardened wax beneath them), illuminated the room.
Clarice peered at Kaj for a moment. She’d been nursing some doubt about him ever since she’d found herself stealthily tailing the man and his cart on the flatland road up to Falcon’s Pass. Her meeting with her old friend had only intensified that doubt. Nevertheless, he was a human, and she knew it wouldn’t have been easy for him to carry out his plan.
Holding a bottle, Kaj placed two glasses on the table and poured them a liquid with a green sheen. She sat down, and Kaj handed her one of the glasses.
“Have a taste and tell me what you think.”
Clarice grabbed the glass and sniffed. The aroma impressed her a great deal. “This is no common spirit. How did you come by it?”
“I have my connections. I knew you’d like it,” he smiled.
The elf drained the glass, and her expression could hardly be more satisfied. “I haven’t had the stuff in some time. Offer me some more.”
Kaj obliged, pouring more into both glasses. They knocked it down in one fell swoop.
“You’d better go easy,” said Clarice. “You’re not an elf.”
“Wonder what it is!”
Typical human, thought Clarice.
“Can I ask you a question?” asked Kaj.
“Ha, like you haven’t been asking questions of me already!”
“Where are you from?”
The elf rested her arms on the table and poured herself a little more. This time, she savored it slowly, with a little sip to start. “You and your questions.” She paused. “…I haven’t had the opportunity to sit in a warm house and enjoy this tipple in a long while,” she said, smiling wistfully. “I lived in a village on the Red Rises near the Valwald River. My family traded maple juice for a living. I still remember the strong aroma that wafted from the barrels during fermentation. The vibrant color of the leaves, the rushing river waters… it feels like centuries have passed since then.” She finished drinking. “This damned hooch is making me talk too much,” she said, vexed.
She got up from her chair and, with a broad motion, put her cloak back on her shoulders. “Take advantage of the tranquility of your home while you can. I have a feeling that times will worsen sooner rather than later,” she said, distraught. She adjusted her hood and headed for the door.
Kaj was leaning against the back of the chair with his arms folded. “Do you really want to sleep outside?”
“I’d be getting some fresh air. It’s hot in here.”
“Blame the booze for that,” he said, smiling. “If you want to come back in, make yourself home anywhere you like. I’m going to sleep!”
Clarice exited, and closed the door behind her.
The night was deep and silent in Fenan. The thick and clear clouds were gathering apace. The village streets were illuminated by scant lanterns, casting the hush that enveloped Draelia into greater relief. One could hear only the slight patter of footsteps that grew louder and more rhythmic before slowly dissipating. A door creaked slowly open, which was then closed gingerly. So it was that sudden, faint flashes of light gleamed from the sanctuary’s windows, followed by more silence.
Clarice had ambled for a spell amidst the quiet of the night, before the cold forced her to take refuge in Kaj’s abode. The elf settled herself down on the floor near the door, still wrapped in her cloak and furs. The warmth of the embers in the fireplace had her dozing in no time.
The next morning, the sun peeked out from behind the Slumbering Peaks, though its heat was meager, as winter was upon the lands. The nalnir woke up when a tiny ray of sunshine managed to infiltrate a hole in the window’s wooden shutter, striking her straight in the eyes. She got up with a sleepy groan and lit the fireplace anew.
Cilna woke up early, with a fire inside her. She went to the sanctuary, and when she arrived before the door, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for another difficult day. What she witnessed left her breathless. Moments later, she was running at breakneck speed toward Kaj’s house. When she arrived, she started knocking violently and without restraint.
“Kaj! KAJ! Open the door!” She was in no state to wait; she had to take him to the sanctuary immediately.
After a short wait, Clarice opened the door. “You must be Cilna…”
The young elf was annoyed. “Yes, I am! And I have to see Kaj right away!”
“He’s sleeping. Wake him up if you must.”
Without hesitation, Cilna ran towards him.
“Open your eyes, Kaj! C’mon, wake up!”
Kaj suddenly heard his name, and his body getting shaken. He realized that he was not, in fact, dancing with fawns in the woods.
Clarice was leaning against the door, thoroughly amused.
With difficulty, the man opened his eyes, to be greeted by Cilna bent over him trying to wake him up. The words that came out his mouth were not terribly friendly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Something happened down in the village! You have to come and see!” she insisted.
“I’m guessing it’s nothing that can’t wait,” he lamented.
“You guessed it! C’mon, get dressed!” Cilna pulled off his covers.
A cold wind made him shiver. Laboriously, he got up. The water in the washbowl was freezing, but he screwed up his courage and dipped his hands in to rinse his face, so as to clear his mind.
“I’m ready,” said a shivering Kaj, tucking his shirt into his pants.
“Finally! C’mon, let’s go!” Cilna grabbed him by the hand and started pulling.
“Clarice, are you coming with us?” he asked, resisting Cilna’s tugging.
“You go on ahead. I know the way, if I’m needed,” she replied, in her usual detached manner.
As soon as the two turned the corner, the nalnir pulled something out of her pocket, and she wrote some words on a parchment. Then she departed the house, the door slamming behind her.
Cilna and Kaj reached the square, where a considerable crowd had gathered.
“What’s going on here?” asked Kaj in amazement.
“Come in! Come and see!”
As soon as they entered, they were greeted by everyone’s salutations and laughter. They sat there on their cots with relieved expressions, chatting amongst themselves. Kaj, standing at the center of the nave, saw smiling faces every which way he looked. But how was this possible?
“I hope you don’t think it’s thanks to your pigswill!” teased a soldier.
“I don’t! I didn’t do a thing!” he replied, incredulous. He made the rounds, to find no fevers or wounds in anyone. “How can this be? You’re all healed!”
An old woman replied: “Somebody was here last night. I saw her. A hooded figure, not very tall, with a white light ‘round the hands. Didn’t catch her face, though.”
“Are you sure?”
The woman looked none too pleased by this. “I may’ve been ill, but I wasn’t mad, deary!”
“I was here till the late evening,” said Cilna, “and I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Did you notice anything else of note?” Kaj asked the woman.
“What does it matter!?” interrupted the young elf. “Everyone’s hale and healthy! It’s almost like you’re unhappy about that.”
“You don’t get it! Not just anybody could have done this. It’s just like the stories I’ve been told by the elders of Lochbis.”
The old elf woman was deep in thought. She looked up and said: “I think she had long hair. And she was definitely an elf. Her hands were so slender…” she smiled contentedly.
Kaj returned her smile. “Thanks for being such a talented observer.” He turned to Cilna: “Check on everyone again. Some of them are very worn out—they still need a day or two of rest. The others can go.”
“Sure thing. Wait, where are you going?”
“I need to have a chat with someone.”
At that moment, Clarice was putting distance between herself and Fenan. She had all of her stuff on her (which wasn’t much), and as always, her mind was swimming with thoughts.
