The Owl
Setting: Season of Harvesting, ending days of Mujigae period
✧ I ✧
Faint snow drifted from the pale, dusky sky onto the viridian forest. Patchworks of dark green and white stretched as far as eyes could see, until they met at the gray mountains or the deep blue sea at the horizon. Winding paths carved through the woods could barely be seen through the sieve of needle-like leaves. A small convoy inched forward on one such path, leaving behind trails of hooves, boots, and grooves on the soft snow. The distant hooting sound from around forced the weary eyes to dash left and right, leather-clad fingers holding onto the hardwood shaft of the glaive. The tense muscles twitched with every shallow breath, ready to strike at any shadows from the corners of the eyes.
“A-are they gone?” a shaking voice snaked from behind.
“No! They’re never away… Keep your guard up!” the man yelled quickly in response, fearful of diverting his attention for even a second.
“Calm down, captain. The soldiers are scared enough as is,” the shout was dismissed by the figure on the other side of the vanguard. As the only other man on horseback, he was the only one on equal footing with the captain as much as he wished otherwise. This young man would not pass for a conscript in his squad, but his position in the mining company allowed him to buy his service. Even this additional income was barely enough for the captain to tolerate his meddling. He swore his naivety would one day get all of them killed. “We don’t have to shoot at every shadow in the sky.”
“No, of course not. Only the round ones…” his murmurs caused the young man to chuckle as he waved his hand. Not like those unworked hands could hit them anyway. His diligence was soon answered by the shadow beyond the next corner. Someone was sitting on a rock by the roadside. She looked like a young, adult girl, maybe a head shorter than the restive captain. Unlike the convoy, she wore no armor, seemingly relying only on her long, white coat to keep her warmth against the equally white snow from the darkening sky. Her lithe hands were clad in leather gloves, one of them holding a lute by her torso, and the other hand raised up to the side to let a snowy owl resting its claw against the protected arm.
“Oh, what a pretty lady, ” with a whip to the rear of his horse, the young man trotted towards her.
“Wait!” the captain soon followed suit, and clopping echoed between the dark trees before finally reaching the girl and the owl. With a gentle wave from the stranger, the owl released itself from her hand and spread its wings. After witnessing the snow-white bird soaring into the twilight sky, the girl turned herself towards the shouting men and gave them a slow wave. Her amber gaze above the smile seemed inviting.
“Greetings, ma’am,” the young man’s question was responded not with words, but with the young woman standing up and dipping her head slightly. As he heard the captain arriving behind him, the company man turned towards him and gestured at the petite lady. “You speak their language, right? Translate for us.”
The captain murmured something beneath his breath before turning his impatient gaze towards her, who had just recovered from the polite bow. «Who are you?» he glanced at her and then turned his attention towards the rock. It appeared she had with her but a woven backpack.
«Just a songwright, sir. How may I be of assistance?» The dark-haired girl raised her eyebrows briefly as the amber eyes glanced at the two. She then offered them a smile and her soft voice.
“A vagabond,” the captain relayed, “best leave her be. Night’s coming soon enough without extra load.”
“Really?” the company man looked up into the evening sky. “I swore it was noon just a while ago.”
“Winter days are shorter on the fringe,” explained the soldier. He had been stationed here long enough to keep track of time even with the previous disruption.
“Well, no matter. We can use a fine lady like her on our trip back to the city,” his employer appeared to be more interested in the songstress.
“Just tell her that, won’t you?” after all, even in the army, the one who commanded was secondary to the one who paid. With that, the veteran could only comply.
«Do I have a choice?» she asked as the captain eyed the waiting man.
«No,» he pointed his thumb to the convoy behind him. Despite the nature of this exchange, the songwright did not offer any resistance. She picked up her backpack and, with an elegant swing, rest it on her back while still holding her lute.
“What did she say?”
“She’ll come with us,” answered the captain, “let’s hope we don’t have to slow down too much.”
“Just have her ride our cart. We can spare the space,” the company man pointed his whip towards the cart in the middle of the convoy. Behind the tired draft horse was a wooden wagon, its axle still holding strong despite the marred and scarred planks. Most of its space was occupied by stacks upon stacks of crates, secured only by rough cloths held together by strained ropes.
“So now you have space to spare.”
“Excuse me?” the captain caught his tongue and swallowed the rest of his thoughts, instead turning his attention towards the new member of the convoy. As the songwright ambled towards the loaded cart, the foot soldiers guarding the vehicle stepped aside while their gaze rested upon her with curiosity and other thoughts. It was only the sight of her trying to pull her lithe body onto the cart that broke the spell upon some of them. The driver hurried aside to make space for her, while one of the soldiers helped to push the backpack onto the wagon – it must be heavier than it looked.
“Ah, I see… fancy having a songbird? Help me with several more runs and you might just earn enough for that. I know just the right person back in town!” the gentleman followed the captain’s stare and laughed. The captain did not respond, instead walking his horse towards the cart. His subordinates pulled aside and bowed, while the seated girl smiled as her eyes stared into his.
«How much do you know about our language?» his eyes narrowed slightly.
«Just enough to sing, sir,» her gloved hand patted the lute on her laps gently. The gentle tap on the ornate soundboard let out a soft, clear noise.
«Sing something for my men, then. They could use some comfort,» her songs might not purge the soreness and cold out of the soldiers despite the legends surrounding the Penelite singers, but at the very least, a distraction would be better than nothing. Her head dipped in response, and the gloved moved up to her hat of white fur adorned with a few brown feathers. Pulling one of them out, the songstress guided its tip towards the strings and plucked them. The cadence soon mixed with her voice as the captain returned to the front, leading the convoy forward once again. While snow continued to pile up behind the heavy steps, the soothing song of a familiar language seemed to just make the dimming night slightly more tolerable.
“Welcome to the heart of the deep forest…”
✧ II ✧
The chilling wind continued to bombard the convoy. With every step through the dark woods into the snow, it felt as if another volley of silver darts pierced through their bones. The powdery snow seeped through the cracks of their armor, melting into the warmth on their clothes and making the next salvo slightly worse. While bitter winters also existed in their homeland of Mujigae, most of the convoy never experienced the long winter nights of this foreign land. The order to stay alert had long been ignored, with soldiers sheathing their blades in favor of clutching their clothes tight to themselves. Even the fine cotton and silk vest of the company man and the experience of the captain did little to help against the snowstorm, as they could barely hold onto the reins of their shuddering steeds.
“Laa-oo, laoo, what you want to see…”
The Penelite songstress, however, seemed to be immune to this terrible weather. Even as the shrieking wind enveloped the convoy as it pushed through the piling snow, she continued to sing her song and play her lute, with the same calmness that had long since been lost for the guards around her. Perhaps as a native, she was simply used to such a terrible weather every winter, but the captain still felt unsettled by the sharp dissonance. It felt almost as if the Penelite was some kind of specter of snow haunting and taunting their misery.
“Laa-oo, laoo, is up to you – ah,”
She finally stopped her verses once the amber gaze noticed something in the darkness. Raising her gentle voice slightly, she called forward to the captain. He was not sure if it was some kind of native magic, but her voice was crystal clear to his ears despite the heavy storm, causing him to yank the reins and turned himself towards her.
«It should be nearby, sir. Please endure for just a little more,» the captain followed her gaze, but all he could see was darkness interrupted only by silver trees and silver snow. Tucking his head into his chest, he turned around and cried out his command to the troops, his glaive pointing towards the unknown direction laid out by the songwright.
He did not trust her – never did. However, he had no choice but to follow her guide ever since the blizzard began. With the snaking paths obscured and shelter nowhere in sight, he knew full well that none of them would be able to survive until sunrise without shelter… and he would have it had this been a proper convoy. Now, he could only hope that the native intended to keep them alive.
His skepticism was soon disproved by the excited, shaking yell from the gentleman. “I saw it! We’re there!” with a brief grasp, the soldiers pulled their legs towards the galloping sound before them, slowing down just enough to not abandon the cart and the native guide on it. As the men rushed forward, they too could see the signs of their salvation, such as it was.
Beyond the forest was a small clearing at the bottom of a cliff. Dark brown logs stood side by side inside a narrow ditch, forming a palisade wall before the rock face. The wall was simple and not very tall – a horseman could easily scrape the sharpened tips of the logs with his glaive, making them only useful against wild beasts. Perhaps fortunately for the convoy, the walls were not manned, and they could see the doors leading into the stockade swinging freely against the worsening blizzard. The chilling storm urged the soldiers against their caution and lured them through the unguarded doorway and into the small village.
Or rather, what was left of it.
Even though the staved houses and barns appeared complete and untouched by strife, the all-consuming darkness within the open windows and doors showed that no living souls could be inhabiting this place without freezing to death. The barns and stable was similarly devoid of life, their troughs filled with nothing but snow. Heavy snowfall ensured that any tracks or embers here had long since obscured by the white blanket, to the point that even the convoy could barely find their path from the dark forest.
“By Ara, we’re safe! Don’t even have to share the place with the natives!” proclaimed the gentleman, seemingly unconcerned by the desolation as long as it meant protection from the freezing storm. He rode across what was presumably the village square before leaping off the horseback in front of one of the bigger houses. The rest of the convoy soon followed as they guided the cart to the stable nearby, with one of the men helping the songstress back onto the ground. “Captain, secure the perimeter. We’ll go warm the houses for you.”
“Aye, sir,” as much as he preferred to maintain his command, he knew better than to waste time for a fight here and now. He quickly picked some of the less frozen soldiers from the ranks, while the rest followed the company man into the longhouse. Before they depart, though, the captain approached the guard next to the Penelite. He was the one who helped her getting on and off the wagon. “Do you speak their language?”
“Just a few words, sir. Picked up some back in the city.”
“That’ll have to do,” the horseman voiced his thought as his gaze skimmed over the songwright briefly. She did not seem to notice, her yellow eyes preoccupied with looking around the abandoned settlement.
“Keep an eye on her. Beware if she does or says anything suspicious,” even though he did not think she spoke their language, he still lowered his voice as much as the shrieking wind allowed. “and keep others off her. Especially our ‘sponsor’.”
“Yes, sir!” the soldier eyed the songstress again, who had returned her gaze onto the two with slight interest. The captain dismissed the soldier and gave the girl a nod, before turning back to his men and rode back to the short walls.
«Um… follow, please,» the guard, now with a new task, caught the Penelite’s attention as he tried to speak her language. He knew full well how fragmented his words were, probably no better than a mumbling toddler, but it would have to do. At least, it appeared that she was understanding, as she offered her faint smile to him alongside a nod.
“If only we have some tea leaves for a warm brew…” “Is this place safe? I guess it’s better than tents…” “Do they have outhouses? I really need to go…” around them, the shivering half of the convoy could not wait to enter the longhouse, practically rushing through the door frame the moment they were allowed to. Even her guard only turned around to wait for her once the roof sheltered him from the worst of the heavy snow.
The Penelite, though, did not feel the need to hustle herself. Before strolling into the longhouse, she looked up one more time, into the howling, hooting starless sky.
✧ III ✧
“She’s here, sir,” one of the soldiers reported to the company man inside the room. Behind him stood the songstress, whose amber eyes looked towards the other side of the room, where the well-dressed man turned to greet her.
“Thanks. Bring her to me, would you?” the company man pointed at the Penelite, before making a gesture signaling her to come closer. As she took her steps towards him, the guard that was assigned to her earlier followed suit, with him looking around the unfamiliar room in this unfamiliar house. This compartment occupied one end of the longhouse, separated from the rest of the building with a thin plank wall and door. While the small pit filled with charred sticks and ash showed one of the functions of this place well to the Mujigae foreigners, the same could not be said for the elevated platform behind the company man.
“Ask her what that is,” the gentleman commanded as he pointed towards the desk on the platform. On top of it stood a wooden figure of two similar figure, one painted in red and one blue, with their fingers intertwined with each other. The curious soldier lingered his attention on the miniature statue for a brief moment, before turning towards the Penelite and relaying the question as best as he could. Fortunately for him, the songwright was able to understand her, replying with words simple enough for him to almost understand.
“What did she say?”
“She said it’s a statue of two of their goddesses. I think their domains are fire and water,” the soldier vaguely remembered seeing something like that back in the city, but he never had the time to delve deeper into local beliefs.
“Element worshipers… can’t say it’s unexpected of them. Ask if she can get them to bless us. We can use some additional warmth here,” the gentle did not seem impressed by the answer, his eyes staring at the Penelite, who responded in kind.
“Do you believe in them, sir?”
“Of course not! But since we’re stuck here for now, she might as well make herself useful,” he let out a laugh before ushering her towards what he assumed was some kind of altar.
“Right…” the impromptu interpreter turned towards the songstress and tried his best to piece together the few words he knew of theirs, «we, cold, warmth, we… us, please?»
The lady looked at the guard for a brief moment before turning her attention towards her thick coat. She pondered for a moment before nodding slightly. Then, she gestured towards the twin statue. «Yes! Please?» he could not help but feel embarrassed by his lack of vocabulary – even if his duty meant he talked with blades more than with words when it came to the natives. After a brief pause, the songstress gave the Mujigae escort a faint, polite smile and a more obvious nod. Cradling her lute, she approached the platform and stood before the statue on the table. While he was not ordered to do so, the guard nonetheless followed her steps, stopping just before the platform, feeling that the elevated space was not for him to intrude. She took a deep breath. And then, her fingers began to dance on the strings.
The thick gloves covering her lithe fingers did nothing to hinder her. Her left hand slid across the strings like a skilled skater on a frozen lake; her right hand danced on them like court dancer before the king. Every tuck and pluck let loose a soft, bright note, made even brighter with every bounce against the well-angled walls, before finally melting into the cold air around them. To the witnesses, it did not look like she was playing a simple instrument, but rather summoning the music from thin air, something that was hidden in plain sight before she woke them up.
Then, her moistened lips parted.
The harmonious music that had been filling up the room dissolved with her command. Her fingers continued to weave the echoing sounds, but they seemingly melted into her clear voice like soft rain into a calm lake, impossible to separate but still enriching to the whole. While the men had heard of her songs on their way here, there was something different this time. It was clear that the Penelite was focusing her mind in her performance, leaving not a single unintended sound or note escape into this world. The language she sang in was strange to the Mujigae listeners, and even the guard could only pick up few fragmented meanings, not unlike trying to hold water with a sieve. In her native tongue, she sang of red and blue, cold and warmth… or was it fire? It was difficult for his mind to focus on deciphering her silk-like voice, as his consciousness would rather melt into the gentle touch of her song.
It took a moment after her final note faded into the dimly-lit room for the men to break from her charm. They knew not of her magic or ritual, but it felt like the frozen air of the room was thawed by her song, even if just slightly. With their enthralled expression filling the amber eyes, the songstress could not help but let out a smile. She concluded with a gentle bow, before stepping down the platform and returned to the side of her handler. Even if there were no language barrier, the guard was not sure if he could fully express his feeling more than a smile and a nod. Her expression, however, suggested that she already knew of it without the need for words.
“That was… something. Whatever that was,” the company man was not sure how to take it, but he still saw the need to break his men out of the trance with his much more secular voice, “alright, now go light a hearth in case their superstition doesn’t work. Also search the place for anything useful.”
“What about her, sir?”
“Anything you think she can help,” dismissed the company man, “now excuse me, I have an offering to make.”
“Aye, sir…” the handler was unsure how to take it, but at the very least, the Penelite’s song seemed to have pacified them, as they turned their attention towards the cold house and colder hearth instead of her.
«Now, um… you rest, I – » before the guard could join in his comrades, though, he felt a subdued touch around his arm. He turned his head around just in time to meet that of the smiling songstress, her breath almost touching his warming skin. With a gentle tug, the handler lowered himself to let his ear met her lips, and she began whispering soft words into him.
Night snow continued to rain on the isolated village, converting the world into a hostile mix of black, white, and teal. The pale moonlight sieved through the layers of soaring snow, casting flickering shadows on the deserted settlement. On the short palisade wall flanking the now-shut gate, two Mujigae soldiers held onto their bows as they tried their best to protect themselves from the piercing chill.
“God, I hope our shift ends soon,” one of them muttered under his breathe, his eyes struggling to stare into the dark woods surrounding the village.
“I think the captain said we’re leaving as soon as the snowstorm stops,” replied the other soldier as he breathed into his cold hands, “better than freezing here, I guess.”
“Really? I would rather we can stay until sunrise… I could do with a nice steam bath and a nap.”
“I won’t count on the natives leaving their beds or whatever for us – ” the rambling was interrupted as one of the dancing shadows passed through him, causing him to lift his head up into the starless sky. “… huh, I don’t see many owls out in this weather.”
“Wanna shoot it down?” the soldier with itchy fingers followed suit, drawing an arrow from the quiver and turning his bow upward into the sky. By then, the bird of prey had already disappeared into the darkness. “Sneaky bas – ”
THUD!
✧ IV ✧
«Please, do come in,» invited the Penelite, even though none of her guests were able to understand her language. Still, her body language was enough to convey her meaning, and the soldiers moved to slide open the door by her. As the flickering candlelight seeped into the storage, the myriad of crates, barrel, and bags revealed themselves from darkness as well.
“I’ll be damned…” the company man blinked twice, seemingly not believing what he saw was true, until the dropped jaw gradually converted into a relieved smile. The men who followed him also eyed the barrels filled with liquid, and bags filled with nuts and grains – or at least, what looked like them. They were not familiar with the kind of crops these frigid lands grew, but they nonetheless recognized the universal sign of food, drinks, and warmth. After all, what else would people stockpile in the depth of their house?
Their relief appeared to convey well to the songstress as well. With a smile, she moved before one of the barrels and began fiddling on the lid. Soon enough, the sounds of crumbling dust were followed by that of the lid popping off, and she stood aside to show the Mujigae garrison a barrel filled with liquid. She spread her palm towards the man holding the candlestick and let out a warning sound, before gesturing towards the other man. On his hand was a dry torch, an impromptu one made from a tree branch and a piece of torn cloth – the most they could manage in their sudden detour from the storm. With another indecipherable sentence, she pointed towards the barrel of liquid and stood aside.
“Do as she said… I guess,” ordered the gentleman as his men turned to him for guidance. Responding with a nod, the soldier approached the barrel and dipped the wrapped tip of the torch into it. The fluid proved somewhat sticky, and the tip of the torch was thoroughly dampened by the time it was pulled out. With another nod from the company man, the candle moved towards the torch, letting the grasp of fire to touch the drenched cloth. Immediately, the flame clung onto the torch and set the whole tip ablaze. It was not a regular fire, though, as the sizzling noise of oil evaporating gave way to a azure-tinted fire instead of the crimson flame the men were used to. Several soldiers let out a grasp as they took half a step back instinctively, while the soldiers holding the fire pushed their tools away. Still, their hands held onto them instead of dropping them onto the flammable floor, perhaps saving them from a fiery death as the pale light illuminated the entire room. As they accommodated to the renewed light, they could see the bags and crates being filled with unfamiliar foodstuff, and barrels and pots with unfamiliar liquid that nonetheless smelled like alcohol.
“Praise Seffyna! It worked!” the gentleman proclaimed as the soldiers quickly moved to the supply. Some examined the grains, needle-like leaves, and cones in an attempt to divine a way to prepare and consume them, while others moved to help themselves with a healthy sip of wine. The gentlemen, meanwhile, turned towards the songwright by the doorway, where she was conversing with the handler that had just returned. The scent of charcoal on him reminded the gentleman to take a bath later, once everything had settled down for the night.
“Oh, you’re here. Ask her about all these supplies,” he instructed and the two conversed with each other briefly. Even though he knew not of her language, he was able to tell how fragmented the guard’s foreign speech was. Still, until the captain came back from duty, it would have to suffice.
“She said it’s the village’s winter storage. It’s needed to survive the long winter here,” he answered, clearly rewording what he heard from her to make the interpretation coherent. “Sir, is it wise to take them all for ourselves?”
“Well, I don’t see the villagers around – hey, save some liquor for me!” the company man shrugged off the concern before the two, “and if they show up with too many mouths to feed, we can always take care of it for them.”
“Right…” the guard appeared uncomfortable from the implication, turning his gaze away from the lit room.
“What about the oil? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a torchlight like this. Have you?” the company man eyed the barrel, where a soldier was refilling the oil lamps they found, alongside several more homemade torches to the side.
“No, sir. I haven’t,” the guard shook his head before conversing with the Penelite again, “interesting…”
“What did she say?”
“Apparently it was harvested from local wildlife… some kind of tree lion, I think,” the handler relayed her response to the gentleman, while she tucked his arm gently, shielding herself away from the rowdy room.
“It’s more plentiful and gives off a pleasant aroma. I think it can – ” he paused his words as the songstress whispered something into his ears. Calming his breath, he concluded, “right… it can ease your mind, sir.”
“Now I know just the right sports to enjoy once spring comes!” the company man proclaimed; he could practically feel the itch on his fingers.
“O-of course, sir. Um… if you would excuse me, sir, we – I have something needed to do with her,” the gentleman’s gaze locked on the tense guard and the songwright behind him for a moment, as if digesting his unusual request. Following a nervous cough, though, an amused smile appeared on the company man’s face.
“Huh… I see she’s an owlet in more than one way. Sure, go ahead. I’ll keep the captain busy if he ever asked,” the gentleman eyed the concealed Penelite, “consider it a reward for finding this room. We’ll save a portion of food for you once you’re done.”
“Thank you, sir,” the handler appeared almost surprised by the response, but quickly answered with a polite bow. With the songwright’s by his side, the two made their leave from the storage area, and the company man joined the rest of the soldiers in their plunder.
«Here. It’s ready,» after braving the chilling night for a few steps, the guard gestured towards the lone lodge at the edge of the walled settlement. The extended roof provided a small cover from the falling snow, allowing for the warm glow of torches to illuminate the entrance to the small house. As the fire crackled, the flickering light reflected off the smoke pouring out from the gaps of the door and the rest of the building. For those coming from warmer parts of the world, they might mistake the house as being burned down, but for the dwellers of the snowy land like the Mujigae handler, it was just a regular occurrence – if anything, this weather only made a nice steam bath all the more desirable.
«Thank you, sir,» the Penelite smiled at the man as she stepped onto the veranda. Warm smoke leaking from the shut door embraced her, and she removed her white outer coat in response, hanging it on the stave wall as she straightened her flowing dark hair. Despite the severe weather, she was not wearing a lot of clothes beneath the thick fur coat. Her limbs were laid bare, with her torso covered with seemingly nothing more than a form-fitting black clothes embroidered with golden threads. They looked like some kind of constellations, but the guard could not help but turn away his reddened face the moment he noticed the teasing smile on the songstress’ face staring at him. It proved too difficult for him to maintain enough focus to discern what she said afterwards.
«I, um, stay. Guard. You go. Warm… rest?» mumbled the guard as he rested his hand on his hilt. Being assigned to her had made him speak their language more than he ever did. Fortunately for him, she appeared to be very well-versed in the art of words, capable of deciphering his scattered words and responding in a way even he could understand. With what he could only assume to be their expression of gratitude, the songwright opened the door and walked into the smoke pouring out from the steam bath, before closing the door behind her. With that, the handler turned away from the door or any potential windows of the house, eliminating any temptations as he started standing guard in case any of his compatriots had dishonorable ideas.
Warm air poured out from the window the moment the Penelite opened the window panel, giving the dark outside world a glimpse of light. While the fire that heated up the shelter had already been extinguished, the warmth would stay long enough for her, or any other guests she might have. As the cool, fresh air mixed with the hot, aromatic steam, the fragrance from the charred wood was released, granting the songwright a much-needed moment of respite. However, before she could reach for the branch of birch, a faint noise caught the attention of her sharp ears. She turned towards the opened panel and smiled, the silhouette of a bird of prey reflecting off her amber eyes.
«Hoot~»
✧ V ✧
The captain's eyes darted left an right, accompanied by his panicked men, his gloved hand resting on the handle of his sidearm. With the snowstorm subsiding, he could see, if barely, the other end of the palisade through the pale blue veil of the night. The spot where the two soldiers should be standing guard was now empty.
“Is this the place?” the gentleman behind him pulled himself onto the wooden rampart. Several more soldiers followed suit, pale torch in their hand and food in their stomach. Perhaps thanks to the shelter and the strange local food, the soldiers no longer felt the need to shiver under their armor. As the gentle torchlight poured onto the snow, the men could see the scene better – not that there were much else to see from a casual glance. Any footsteps there might be had been concealed by the powdery snow, and there were neither corpses nor chippings on the exposed stakes. It was almost as if the two guards were never there to begin with.
“Are you sure no one had seen them after their shift?” the captain asked one of his aides, who answered with the shake of his head. In a normal situation, he would have assumed that the two were simply slacking off somewhere.
However, this was not normal situation.
“Do you think they might be – ”
“Probably. All of you, stay alert, ” with his words, the still-confused soldiers held onto their bows, swords and shields, forming a loose circle around the company man. Meanwhile, the captain approached the end of the walkway, his armored boots sweeping off the thin layer of snow piling up on the planks. Soon, the worst that he had expected was revealed under the dancing light, with circles and streaks of dark stains scattered across the post. Letting out a sigh, the veteran turned back to the rest of the convoy and said, “they’re dead, or worse. Either way, we depart as soon as the snow clears.”
“Wait, what?” one of the soldiers broke ranks and exclaimed, “we just set up the hearth!”
“Good, keep it lit,” responded the captain, “it might fool them into thinking we’re still here.”
“Are you alright, captain – ” the company man interrupted the two. As the captain gestured towards his discovery, he paused for a moment to process the information, only to be interrupted by a suppressed burp. He made a mental note to not drink with an empty stomach again. “Right, I assume some of the natives have tracked us down.”
“Aye… if they did track us down to begin with,” the captain pondered to himself before returning to his patron, “in any case, we need to leave ASAP.”
“Wait, why?” to his surprise – or maybe not – the company man objected to it.
“Isn’t it obvious? If they’re already here, then we’ll be sitting ducks if we stay!”
“But they’ll still be after us if we leave, right? At least by staying here, we would have some kind of defense to help us,” the gentleman theorized, “and we won’t be burdened by supplies or fatigue.”
“That’s only if we have enough people to man the barricade…” the captain’s argument was cut short by himself, as he turned to gaze at the soldiers and woman who were standing awkwardly between their exchange, whispering something between themselves. With that, he recomposed with a cough, “let’s continue in your quarters.”
“Sir, if I may…” one of the soldiers raised his hand and voice. It was the one with the songbird.
“Yes, soldier?”
“What if we split up? If some of us take the horses and run to the city, they won’t be able to chase us down, right?” he suggested, “then they can bring help back while the rest of us hold down the fort.”
“We can’t afford to split… you know what? We’ll discuss that later,” the captain murmured something inaudible beneath his frosted breath, “for now, keep the entire perimeter lit. Don’t stay on the walls. Ready your bows by the… garrison in the houses.”
“Yes, sir.” “I want to sleep…” “I’ll get the tea brewing,” the soldiers were not fond of their orders, but they followed them nontheless. As the men slowly scattered towards their duties, the captain approached the guard and the Penelite, leading to a panicked salute from the man, and a smiling bow from the woman.
«Evening,» the captain offered a polite greeting to the guest before turning his attention to the handler, “everything alright?”
“O-of course, sir!” the guard quickly nodded in response, “fortunately, others are too focused on keeping themselves warm and full to bother her.”
“Right…” the captain turned towards the songstress. His judging gaze was met by her gentle smile, and her large, golden eyes did not flinch against his foggy breath. Despite a lack of words, the onlooking guard could not help but feel he was left out of their conversation.
“Keep an eye on her,” said the captain in the guard’s language, his eyes remain fixed on the songwright even as he walked away from the two, “but don’t get too close. For your own good.”
“Y-yes, sir…” the guard was not sure what to make of the strange remarks from either of his superiors. He definitely would not want to share the two sentries’ fate if what the captain said was true. At the same time, running off into the dark woods where the hostile natives call home sounded suicidal. He was not even sure if sunlight would be able to shield them from harm anymore…
His chilling stream of thought was soon interrupted by the subdued voice of the songstress by his side. Compared with his turbulent feelings, her calm, golden eyes felt like a much-needed shelter from the storm. As the previous thoughts in his mind dissolved in her gentle voice and touch, the man let out a tired smile and a small request to her – one that would hopefully bring calm to others as well. After taking a brief moment to process his disoriented words, the Penelite answered with a smile, deeper and wider than usual.
The soft hide boots followed the hard leather boots across the snow-covered walkway, and the songstress pulled out the feather from her white fur hat. Taking a deep breath, the gloved hand guided the ornate tip of the feather onto her lute, and she began her performance for all to hear and witness.
“Welcome, I say, to the depths of the forest glade…”
Despite her small statue and soft voice, every syllable and note was clear as crystal to everyone in the village and beyond, gradually melting into the deep blue air.
“You seem so strange, a peculiar guest, strayed…”
✧ VI ✧
A small fire lit up the oil-drenched cord, and the oil lamp flooded the chilly room with its cerulean glow, welcoming the soldiers returning from the cold snow with a sense of warmth. Even though the worst of the snowstorm seemed to have passed, the frigid cold of midnight was still unbearable to the foreigners. Once the fire of the oil lamp stabilized, the garrison spared no time transferring it to the central hearth, converting the ember-clad firewood into a serene flame. Soon, the few men cuddled around the fire, with one hanging a filled pot above the fire, while the other took off the hard leather boots to warm their numb, reddened legs.
Just as the fire began to fuse with the drink above, they were joined by the Penelite and her guard. Despite only having been inducted into the convoy for less than a day, her presence had become a somewhat usual occurrence for the soldiers, with her effectively attached to her handler most of the time – then again, who would not want to spend their spare time in her presence, away from the bleak situation they were stuck in?
“Hey, back from a good time?” a soldier’s greeting led to most of the rest letting out a chuckle.
“S-shut up. Can’t you give the lady some respect?” the warmed cheek and stuttered response provoked a few more laughs.
“Oh, it’s not like she knew what we’re saying,” the bearded soldier reached for the pot, grabbing the cold, insulated handle after a few tries. The other soldiers held out their cups or any other containers they managed to find and received their serving of the pale golden liquid. The faint scent of alcohol infused into the calm air of the room as the soldiers cheered and downed the drink. “Why don’t you join us? I’m sure ‘the lady’ would want to take a sip of whatever drink their place has in stock.”
“I would, um, rather not…” the guard turned towards the songwright. Her eyes glanced over the burning hearth before looking at him and shaking her head slightly, reaffirming her wish.
“Man, what a henpecked man.” as the searing warmth flowed through his veins, the soldier set aside the half-empty pot and gestured towards the smiling songstress while she tilted her head a bit. “You gotta show her who’s the boss of the household! Else you’ll never hear the end of it once you get married.”
“What? It’s not like I can – ”
“Calm down, we’re just messing with you,” the guard’s response was interrupted by the drinking soldier, “still, how about you make her useful here? We could use some entertainment here.”
“Al-alright,” he was unsure what he could do but to comply, turning his pale face towards the songstress. To his surprise, and perhaps a bit of relief, the Penelite nodded in response. She raised her hands to her collarbone and undid the knots holding her coat together, taking it off and handing it to the soldier. Leaving the warm embrace of the white fur, the bare arms could move more freely as they held onto the ornate lute, her lithe fingertips caressing the strings gently. Each pluck produced a clear, well-tuned note, weaving into a calm, simple melody diffusing in the cold air. Compared with the previous song, the one she played for the drinking soldiers was somewhat faster, moderating the alcohol-touched hearts. The lyrics were similarly absent, perhaps because of her unfamiliarity with their language. Instead, her soothing voice was used to hum along the composed song, highlighting the main pitch and rhythm without overtaking the performance itself.
“She’s good, isn’t she?” another soldier commented as the guard took his seat by the fireplace. The man seemed to be quite mild-mannered as he tried to hum along quietly, almost as if fearful to interrupting her.
“Yeah… I heard many of the Penelites are gifted in music. Some unnaturally so,” The handler looked towards the songstress, quickly averting his gaze upward into the darkness beneath the tall roof, so as to not peek into her alarmingly short skirt. With all the window panels shut close, the only signs of the snow outside were the faint flakes and dust drifting from above, and the faint creaking of the beams under the weight.
“I’m surprised that man from the company didn’t take her away for a private performance,” the other soldier, though, did not share the same concern. Perhaps fortunately, the Penelite did not seem to pay attention to it either, instead focusing more and more on her performance. Her fingers danced on the thin strings, like raindrops nourishing dry ground, their petrichor joining the song as a chorus. The euphony slowly weaved its way into the foreigners’ hearts, transforming the lingering fear of the unknown enemy into a tempered sadness, a longing for the welcoming lights of their distant homes.
“… when the deep night comes…” even the song itself, one that the soldiers had never heard before, seemed to slowly morph itself into a more familiar tune, her humming shifting into meaningful words against common sense. “… you’ll never be alone…”
“Ah… I should write home a letter. I know someone who can help me ship it back with the goods,” the clean-shaven man woke himself up from the brief trance and murmured to himself. Pulling himself away from the hearth, he reached to what little personal belongings he was allowed and pulled out his ink brush and paper. Laying a loosened board on his hips, he began writing while his body rocked slightly to the rhythm from behind.
“Haha, nothing like the taste of home…” by downing a small cup of liquor with every chorus, the drinking soldiers were positively tipsy and drowsy by the time the heard the last note of the song. Still, that did not stop their slowed hands from helping themselves with another toast, “another one, please!”
The one with the golden eyes obliged, and the fingers readied themselves once more. Even though they could feel the faster tempo of the next song, their body could not help but feel relaxed. Every note, every word from her chipped away whatever worries they might have, helping them to melt into the pale blue lights around them. As the firewood crackled, sparks of fire soared into the cold air, illuminating the gentle smile on the songstress’ face. Her hands slid across the cords like a stream from spring; her fingertips pulling the strings as if playing among the tiny stars surrounding her serene body; her words whispering familiar words into their minds. “… when silence comes and covers you…”
For a brief moment, the soldier felt something woke up in his entranced mind, but before that thought could transform into action, it once again melted into the spell of soft rain she weaved with her music. In his narrowing vision, the songstress let out a tender, almost childish grin as the golden eyes turned around the room. It was the last thing he saw before he blacked out.
His consciousness eventually condensed once again, and was once again summoned back to reality by the freezing melted water dripping onto his face. With most of his faculties still in slumber, he struggled to lift his eyelids and upper body from the cold, wooden floor. Before him, the hearth had long since been reduced to dry embers, gray smoke ascending into the darkness before the two struggling figures.
Unlike the other soldiers who were deep in their dreamless sleep, the bearded drunkard managed to stand up before the Penelite, even though half of his clothes still laid scattered across the icy floor. His eyes were widened, and his swollen hands were holding her wrist tightly. Before him, the petite songwright looked small and vulnerable, and her thin arms were incapable of breaking free from him. His drowsy mind was incapable of deciphering her words, but while her voice was soft and mellow as always, there was a rare tinge of surprise, maybe even fear in it.
“L-let go of her!” his waking throat could only produce a shivering voice, almost like a whimper instead of a shout, but it was enough to catch the attention of the two.
“This is… all your fault! Argh! Burning…” the bearded soldier muttered, one syllable at a time. Even with his statue, he seemed unable to overwhelm the songwright, with their hands tugging back and forth as the guard pulled himself up. However, his legs were still deep in their dreams, and he managed to stumble for a few steps before he tripped over one of his unconscious compatriots. He barely managed to avoid diving into the cold embers, his head lifted up just enough to witness what was about to transpire.
As the Penelite gritted her teeth, the hide boots let loose of the floor. The heavier weight of the soldier pushed her towards the wall, and her back and elbow landed on the staves. With a loud thud, the loose window panel fell off to reveal the starless night beyond. Pale blue moonlight poured into the room, dispelling the last comforting echoes of her songs. Then, the Penelite shouted something, and her voice transformed into a buzzing sound. It was not an illusion, however, as the man also turned his chilling face towards the outside, just in time for something to sweep in and land on it.
It was a dark blue, almost indigo-tinted beetle, large enough to cover most of the man’s face. He let go of the songstress and winced away, his cry muffled into nothingness. His claws tried to take hold onto the shiny shell and transparent wings to no avail, and the swollen body fell back, forcing the guard to roll aside as the soldier plummeted into the embers, scattering the cold ashes into a cloud of fog. The strong, mint-like aroma empowered the former handler almost as well as the impending dread. His body jolted from the floor, staggering towards the closest door as he caught his racing heartbeat and breath.
As the dust cloud enveloped the room, the Penelite was nowhere to be seen, and the entire world had fallen into silence. Through the overbearing confusion and exhaustion, his survival instinct took hold, and his legs once again stood him up, and he turned away and ran as fast as he could, into the all-embracing darkness.
✧ VII ✧
The captain walked up the stairs, the sound of his metal boots clanking against the wooden planks seeping into the cold corridor. Pretty much every building in this seemingly abandoned village had but a single floor except this one – perhaps it was the home of their leader, or maybe a place with spiritual significance, but what remained of this place did not disclose its true purpose.
Nor did he really care, especially given what had been transpiring. He knew this side job was problematic ever since the trip started, but even he did not expect the situation to worsen that much that quickly. Part of him cursed himself for what was going on now – maybe he should have introduced himself to the Penelite with blade instead of words, or maybe he should not have accepted the generous payment promised by that wet-behind-the-ears company man. Still, there was no point dwelling upon it. If nothing else, with any luck he might be able to salvage his life and maybe that of some of his men. With that, he raised his unfeeling hand to knock and push aside the wooden door.
The room was apparently some kind of bedroom or resting place. Sitting against the stave walls was a miniature stockade covered by skin of reindeer, sewn together to make for a reasonably comfortable bed. Next to it, what was originally chairs and table left by the original inhabitants had been repurposed into what he could only assume as a small shrine, not unlike the one dedicated to the twin goddesses of the natives. At its center stood an abstract figure, with a hair adorned with thin gold and a body dyed in crimson. The captain was not familiar with that laughing figure, but he could nonetheless deduce its purpose by the red-stained offering plate before it. Most of the plate was occupied by a single metal ingot, its dull gray texture and stamped letters showing its valuable nature and origin in the freezing riverside of this forsaken land.
“Ah, you’re here, captain,” the company man had presumably finished whatever rituals pertaining to this strange being, and was now taking a sip of the liquor he found here a while ago. The pale blue lamplight illuminated the tipsy expression on his face, a sharp contrast to the much more sober face of the veteran. “Want a drink?”
“I’ll pass. Don’t want to fight drunk,” he waved his hand, “seems you’re ready to stay here for a while.”
“Of course! Don’t tell me you’re serious about leaving now,” the gentleman took a seat by the altar, putting the half-empty flask on it as if an additional offering was demanded, “I think you’re letting them to get to your head. They’re trying to smoke us out. We’ll be easy pickings for them without these walls!”
“Only if we have enough men and gears to fortify this place,” the captain remarked with a slight hint of indignation – he would have those had it been his plan, “with what we have, we could only hold down a house or two! Some oil and torches and we’ll be done for.”
“Yeah? And how would it be better without the houses to shelter us? Frostbites aren’t going to make us immune to fire!” the company man turned his widened glare towards the captain, “you yourself said they have short hands! That make them bad at fighting in enclosed space!”
“That wasn’t what I… urgh,” the captain was about to raise his voice, but the chilling air reminded his racing mind otherwise. Rubbing against his temple, the man leaned against the wall to try maintaining his focus, “how many horses do we have? Maybe we can get them back to the city to call for help.”
“What? You’re actually going with that stupid idea from… whoever that kid was? I expected better from you,” the remark was halted for a brief moment as the company man seemingly remembered something, his gaze narrowing slightly at the revelation, “you’re aware splitting the party would only make us more vulnerable, aren’t you?”
“Huh?”
“I knew you were talking too much with that songbird,” the company man murmured, his hand reaching for the flask before holding onto the ingot, pointing it towards the confused captain, “I don’t know what honeyed up words she used to poisoned you with, but I would drop whatever plot you had to take MY goods!”
“What’s wrong with you!?” the captain yelled in response, but whatever retort he had was interrupted by a loud thud echoing from beyond the corridor. Holding his shallow breath, the captain silenced himself just in time to hear the faint, but unmistakable sound of cry, shriek, and neigh.
He was too late.
With no other options, the captain stood himself up and rushed out into the hallway, his gauntlet moving down onto his sheathed sword.
“Think about which side you join!” the company man, on the other hand, simply yelled into the dark hallways beyond. As the echo subsided, so did his anger, and he pulled himself up likewise. He moved his hand to push open the shut window slightly, letting the night outside to seep in between the frame and board. Beyond the dark blue veil of the night, he could see several blurry shadows moving through the snow-covered ground, leaving behind strange footsteps. Then, with an audible neigh, a ridden horse leaped from the stable into his view, circling left and right in fear of something beyond. The desertion was followed by several more others, as they hastily pulled themselves onto the back of the galloping horses – including one he was very familiar with.
“Come back, you thief! Coward!” the man raised his voice while raising his other hand, this one clutching his sidearm. The slipping fingers held onto the jaw screw to cock the pistol, all the while he pointed the loaded barrel towards the equine shadow. With gritted teeth, the ill-fitting finger pulled the trigger. Fiery sparks danced as the flint struck against steel, igniting the gunpowder and propelling the lead ball into the night. However, it did little more than startling the fleeing riders, giving them just enough fright to crash through the wooden gate and into the dark woods.
“Damn it… useless, all of them!” the company man did not even have the time to reload before the deserters were consumed by the distant darkness, causing him to bang the grip against the wall in frustration while the drained body slid down back besides the altar. The disconcerted man’s hands began reloading the smoking gun, only for him to find their movement no longer connected to his churning thoughts.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk so much…” in a moment of lucidity, the man murmured as he turned to the object of his faith. As the silvery light flickered, the laughter on its face began to change in his eyes as well, almost as if it was addressing him, or maybe simply gloating – only a fool would think a greedy god would grant their worshiper wealth without taking something even more valuable in return.
“…ah,” with the blink of an eye, the drowsy company man turned his heavy head aside at the doorway, where a familiar figure was standing in the dim light with a smile. Behind her, it seemed the dark corridor was filled with moving shadows, almost as if he could see the true nature of the songstress behind the gentle veneer.
“Good… spare me the effort to hunt you down,” the gentleman mumbled and raised the gun in his hand. He was not sure if he ended up loading it, or if it really mattered. Regardless, the smoking barrel did not deter the Penelite, and the golden eyes remained locked onto him as she drew closer. He tried to pull the trigger, but nothing came of it, and the bewitching smile soon filled his aching eyes.
«Would you like me to perform for you, sir?» the strange language poured into his mind, somehow making him understand her intention despite not knowing a word of her tongue. The parched lips moved in response without him hearing a single word from himself, yet the songwright nodded to his silent words.
«It’ll be a special stanza just for you,» instead of her lute, the golden-eyed girl lowered herself before him, and her lithe fingers held onto his frozen jaw. The touch felt unnaturally hot, almost like burning. With a soft tug, the company man lifted his head to her face, where the rosy lips parted for him.
«And now, to you, I gift a fire of cold.»
«It burns as bright and blue as summer sky,»
Her voice, smooth like silk, snaked into his heart and gripped his faltering soul. With every syllable, he could feel his life being squeezed out into his freezing limbs, almost as if he was doused in flame.
«but you will find no peace from it. Because…»
«… the fire will burn, beneath your skin, until you freeze.»
When the last whisper of hers melted into his scorching body, he finally remembered where he heard of these words. An overwhelming sense of impending doom spread beneath his skin like wildfire, like a prey ensnared by a deadly trap. As the warm touch of the predator dissolving in the blistering senses, the shadow moved away one final time. The smiling one lifted her left hand, and the thick glove easily extinguished the pale fire on the wick. The moment her fingertips clamped shut, darkness claimed the world once again, and the haunting shadows disappeared before his strained eyes.
All alone with only his affliction as company, the company man could only do as he was compelled to, until the embers turned to dust.
✧ VIII ✧
Hurried steps propelled the captain through the dark corridors, his racing mind barely registering the sinister echoes seeping from the darkness. He had his blade drawn, the cold steel reflecting off the pale lights from the accursed lamps and torches scattered around this place, and the dancing shadows within. It would not have happened had he decided to put his blade through her the moment they met for the first time, even if he doubted the company man would agree to it. Such naivety had claimed their lives… as it would his. He could not even remember why he let his guard down once they arrived here.
Still, the natives would be in for a rude awakening if they expected him to just curl up and die.
Turning around another corner, the man reached the hearth of the house, where some of his men were resting a while ago. Now, though, the meaning of that phrase had taken a terrible turn despite what remained of his hope. Half of the convoy was still here, their bodies laid in disarray around the cold embers of the central fireplace. For most of them, it was difficult to tell whether their slumber was eternal – with one exception. Collapsed next to the open window was a muscular body, and on where his face should be were several large, winged indigo bugs. Although most of his head was concealed entirely by their body, their full, almost bloated stomach more or less hinted upon he fate of the face beneath. Even if he managed to survive despite the odds, the captain could not help but feel it might be more merciful to remedy that.
“Damn bloodsuckers…!” still, he would not stand by and let these terrible creatures continue their desecration. His dulling fingers clutched tight against the hilt as he marched towards the bitterbugs, accompanied by the echoes of creaking wood. He had heard about them multiple times before, but this was the first time he met them in person. Despite the terrifying circumstance, he knew they could not take on someone who could fight back – that was why the native hunters had to distract their prey for them to have a chance to feast.
… just like now.
His eyes widened as he realized what was truly transpiring. He gritted his teeth as he turned upward, and had he been just a moment slower, the shadow descending upon him would have overwhelmed him. The captain quickly stepped aside, letting the sharpened pole to barely miss him and dig into the floor. Spitting out the cold air inside him, the captain yelled and swung his saber towards the being on the other end of the pole-arm. The round-eared Palkyrie, despite the initial surprise, soon steadied herself and released her hands. Holding onto the pole with her legs, her rodent-like tail pushed her away from the swing, spinning her petite body around the pole with ease.
The captain halted his blade almost immediately, twisting the trajectory towards her torso with a straight thrust. Before the tip of the sword could reach her, though, the Palkyrie spread her legs and land on the floor with her palms, avoiding the strike with a backflip. Her prehensile tail clung onto the head of the long ax, pulling it from the floor and delivering it into her hand just as she stood upright once more.
The unexpected encounter truly began as the two caught their breath, letting the white fog from their panting mouths to melt into the cold winter air. Then, the captain let out a chuckle. «Almost caught me off-guard… almost,» if he had to fall here, then falling in battle was probably the best end for a veteran like him. The Palkyrie, cautious towards her enemy, responded with a grin, showing what could only be described as a miniature bear trap supplementing her natural teeth. Whether it was because of the taunting response or not, the veteran could feel his blood no longer freezing… in fact, it felt almost like he was burning beneath his skin.
Having said everything that needed to be said, the fight resumed with the captain moving forward towards the poleaxe-wielding Palkyrie, sword in one hand and sheath in the other. His dry, bloodshot eyes glared at the cold ax at her hand – it might have a longer reach, but as long as he could parry it… and just like what he expected, the Palkyrie raised her ax in an attempt to fell him. Catching her movement, the veteran stabbed downward with the wooden sheath, sliding into the thin gap between the metal ax and wooden shaft. As a clear clank sound bounced across the room, his hand held against the heavy momentum while his saber returned the favor in kind.
And then, the steely grin appeared once again. With a twist against the oval handle, the ax head followed the angled scabbard downward and buried itself in the plank. As the remaining momentum rushed back to the user, her thick tail straightened at the same time, propelling her body upward and away from the sword. At her zenith, the Palkyrie stood upside-down right above the captain, holding only on the tip of the shaft. Then, as gravity dominated the body once more, her legs drew a crescent behind him, pushing her tapered sabatons into his lower back.
The air inside him was forced out into a scream, motivating the hunter into continuing her assault. Her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging onto him like a living backpack. As her prey struggled, her grin appeared once more, this time parting wide open to reveal the mouthful of serrated metal before her natural, human-like teeth. Before she could take a bloody bite, though, the veteran thrust his elbow backward and turned the bite into a painful cough. «Too careless… argh!» his grunt was cut short by the Palkyrie’s retort in the form of a spit, smearing a sticky, noxious slush over half of his face and his right eye. Forcing himself through his twitching face and dulled sight, the captain continued his struggle with a few more disorganized strikes until the Palkyrie relented, landing a few steps behind him with her blood-stained shoes.
Her livid eyes darted between the bloodied, marked man and the pole-arm on the ground. Then, she drew a ring with her glove-clad fingers and squeezed it into her rounded lips. Before he could respond, her breath was converted into an ear-piercing shrill. This sudden stimulation was followed by a loud buzzing sound, and one of the large bugs quickly obscured his blurred vision. Even though it took but a few swings to dispel the gadfly, by the time it fled through the window into the snowy night, his foe was nowhere to be seen once more. As the air around him cooled down, it felt almost as if the fight was just a fever dream until his dripping blood and reddening clothes reminded him otherwise.
«Poison…» the numbness spread as he wiped the ooze off his face. His sight flickered between soft cyan glow and cold darkness. He knew he did not chase away the Palkyrie – the hunter had dealt her blow, and was just lurking, waiting for her prey to succumb. Convinced that she had cleared this trap beforehand, the captain picked up the poleaxe she left behind, using it as an impromptu support as he staggered away from the scene.
Faint walking steps echoed through the corridor, both in and out of sync of his disorganized steps. Under the unreliable light, the captain soon found a familiar living face, huddled in a drenched corner with indecipherable mumbles. “Hey. We gotta go…” his drained prompt was answered by incoherent grumbles, something about red and blue, cold and warmth… or was it fire? The scent made it clear that the songstress had broken her former handler, and he was of no use anymore.
“Ah!” a sudden shout broke his torpor temporarily, which was joined by quickened, approaching footsteps. At the far end of the shrouded hallway were four golden orbs, followed by more ghostly lights. Seeing him also as a lost cause, the captain could do nothing but flee, keeping him only in his prayers as the limping man retreated into darkness.
“No! Not again! Stop the cursed song!” the wizened pleas fell on deaf ears, and the song that was now all too familiar began to echo once more, seeping into his scrambled mind despite the freezing hands sealing his ears.
“Welcome, I say, to the depths of the forest glade.” “You seem so strange, a peculiar guest, strayed.” “Sorry to say, but from now on, you must behave:” “Here we have the forest’s customs to obey.”
“Laau, lauu… what now would you like to view?” “Laau, lauu… it depends all on you.” “Sorry to say, but we all know, it’s clear as day:” “You’re a guest, but you’re unwelcome to stay.”
✧ IX ✧
The captain dragged himself up the stairs, leaving behind a trail of dulled red all the way to the room he stormed off not too long ago. As much as he cursed the name of the one that doomed them all, his abode was among the most defensible places around, and his firearm was more valuable than ever, with his strength being sapped away drop by drop. Pulling himself along the wall, the veteran’s body fell into the silver-tinted room… and gasped as he witnessed what had transpired since they parted way.
Under the flickering oil lamp, the previously well-arranged bed was in disarray. Its cover had been tucked aside hastily, revealing the fireplace beneath. Instead of firewood or embers, though, the small enclosure was filled with the mangled body of the now-ashen company man. His fine clothes were scattered across the room, with only scraps left clinging onto his pallid body. If not for the frozen, ominous face, he would have mistaken it as the burrow of some strange beast. The anger and distaste within the captain subsided somewhat at his fate, with the sinking feeling that it was but a sign of what would soon befall him. Picking up the loaded gun on the floor, the man floundered towards the opened window, trying to grasp at the cold, fresh air outside.
The scenery beyond the veil of night offered no comfort to the dying man, though. The cart was turned over, spilling its goods across the snow-covered floor. Ingots of dulled silver glimmered under the bright moonlight, among the chaotic steps and foot paths weaved between the houses. There was not a single drop of blood visible, but he knew the bloodbath had already occurred. At the very least, he could take small comfort at the fact that most of them would suffer less than he would…
That thought, however, was dashed by the scene just beyond the enclosed walls of this death trap. At the small clearing just outside the palisade stood several new spikes, one for each horse the convoy had. At the end of each pole, the veteran could barely make out the roughly spherical object impaled at the top, waving gently towards the starry sky. His failing eyes could not make out the details, but his ailing mind could. Dejected, he turned away from the appalling scene and slumped onto the floor beside the emptied altar.
His pounding mind soon cooled down alongside the frigid air. He focused on what remained of his senses and hefted his head up, towards the specter that was standing before him. Despite the bright, almost blinding pale blue light filling up the room, he could not decipher the shadow of the feminine figure, only the owl-like golden eyes laid upon him.
«Come to finish the job… aren’t you?» the shadow bobbed once in response. The silhouette bore no blades – but the songstress did not need a weapon obvious to others.
«They… all are planned from the start, right? Ha, we never had any choices…» the frozen lips struggled to mutter coherent words. Nonetheless, the songwright was able to understand him and shook her head. Ambling closer but still obscured, the shadow offered to the deserted altar a small vial of liquid in strange colors.
«What is it?» it was close enough for him to reach even in this state. It was not coincidental – nothing had been.
«Dignity,» the Penelite’s words etched into his mind, «a choice, to return your… kindness.»
The man could not help but laugh, her words sounding as nonsensical as his. He did not know if she truly expected him to accept her offer, but there was only one thing he could do, even if it would ultimately change nothing. His numb hand twisted the barrel towards the shadow, and the shaking fingers clutched tight against the frosted iron.
Even the deafening cry of gunpowder sounded muted to him. The crimson flash briefly outshone the pale light of the oil lamp, propelling the bullet through the obscured songstress… leaving no trace but a dent at the wooden wall behind. Part of him expected this, and the captain let out a foggy grasp of air. As his left eye shut down, the pale blue illusion melted into darkness, and the shadow dissipated before his poison-washed eye. Only a faint melody lingered in echo.
He never had any choices, after all. As the hide boots walked away from beyond the doorway, the man closed his remaining eye and accepted the coda the songwright had allotted to him.
✧ X ✧
As the maddening night came to an end, the frozen air thawed as well, waking up the last remaining mind of the doomed garrison. The liquid he spilled had long since dried, and his aching body struggled to pull himself up from the corner. What remained of his mind was filled with confusion, his senses barely registering the shadows from the corner of his eye.
Guided only by inaudible music, the staggering soldier walked out of the house and into the field of snow. The moon had long since retreated behind the forested horizon, and the darkness left behind was illuminated by fading rainbow foretelling the dawn to these dark woods. About a dozen pikes were erected at the village square, forming a circle around an unlit pyre as the tailed shadows wandered around. They paid no attention to the delirious man, catching only a few glancing eyes as he approached her. The one who started it all, and yet also the one that, he knew, to be his only salvation.
Her dark, long hair and white fur coat obscured most of her otherwise petite body. The only gesture noticeable from behind was her raised hand, gently holding a large bitterbug resting its wings. Upon picking up the sound of the man falling onto his knees, her lips parted from the swollen insect and lifted her gloved hand, allowing it to soar into the dawning sky once more. She did not lower her hand afterwards, though, instead leveling it to allow for a snowy owl to land by her side. Only then did she turn towards her audience, the two pair of seemingly identical golden eyes looming over him.
His garbled words elicited first a raised eyebrow, and then a faint smile, just like when they first met. As the others gathered around to witness the interaction between the two, the hide boots began strolling towards him as well, stopping once she cast her shadow over him. Lowering herself to his level, her free hand moved to his drenched face and caressed the shivering man. The sealed smile deepened as it occupied more and more of his vision, until hers touched with his.
The gloved fingers pressed gently against his cheek, persuading his mouth to open. It was soon filled with bitterness as the somewhat viscous fluid poured into his throat. Without a choice, he swallowed it all, feeling the corners of her lips lifting up as the bittersome taste lingered in his mouth. Soon, his body was once again given the gentle warmth he had been longing for, waking up even his sore legs with unusual strength. With that, she let go of her lips and hand, wiping off the last of the fluid from her face.
From within her coat, she procured an ingot, wrapped in written letters and marked with red. Gently, she tucked the message into his soaked clothes. The golden gaze pierced through his eyes, like a bird of prey digging into its prey. After ensuring that she had all his attention, she finally parted her lips. Her whisper deafened his turbulent mind, and her foreign word was understood perfectly by him – in fact, he could barely think of anything else even before she uttered her word into his soul.
«RUN.»
Her concise, unsung word was disenchanting, freeing his body and mind from the freeze. She took a step back as he stood up, and with a casual glance, the silhouette around them parted ways to reveal a singular path. Then, he screamed from the bottom of his lung, expunging all the frigid air. His legs moved without help from his mind, and the body dragged itself as fast as it could, through the opened door and dripping pikes and into the dark woods, his wailing fading into the vast nothingness.
With a signaling wave from the songstress, the owl released itself from her hand and spread its wings. After witnessing the snow-white bird of prey soaring into the dawning sky, the songwright turned her attention to her lute one more time – it was only proper to finish her performance. Giving her audience a gentle bow, the tip of her feather dipped into the strings, spreading the ripples across the wintry wind.
“Hoo, hoo… little owl brings a message,” “Hoo, hoo… ‘other guest will arrive.” “Hoo, hoo… little owl brings a message,” “Sensing that something is about to start.” “Sensing that something is about to start…”
“Sensing that something is about… to start.”