Dead grass crunched beneath Erlan's soft boots as she walked across the clearing, strands of light blond hair tugging free from a single braid. She stood in her village's square, with the only light to guide her being the dimly reflected torches that lined the street. Dark, rolling clouds covered the moon and stars above, so that the light from the torches only seemed to create more dancing shadows rather than keeping them at bay.
An old, blooded post made of wood stood in front of her. Only one person had ever had the misfortune of hanging off of there. Durn was a small fishing village - or so, it had been. It was growing, to the native's dismay. Three families left over the past four years.
Four families and several travellers have come by, since.
The talk of leaving was no longer as constant as it once was, either. Erlan didn't quite understand; she just knew her fellow neighbors were scared of something. Scared to talk about leaving, anymore.
She stared up at the daunting post, grateful that she hadn't had to witness anymore Circle executions. Her sister never acknowledged the post anymore; she rarely came by this way, either - even if she needed to get to the docks, Hida would go the long way around instead of simply crossing the square.
First, the war had taken their father and several other men. Durn was on its last legs . . . And then the runkist showed up. Promised them safety, closure. Said they didn't have to be the prey of monsters and beasts any longer - that there were people specially equipped to deal with them.
Erlan was young when the war began, and barely older when it ended. But according to the adults, they'd never been hunted so severely by the things that danced in the dark before the war as they were now.
One thing she was certain of, however, was that it was by the will of the gods alone that mankind was still walking the lands. If they hadn't intervened, Erlan knew the dark forces would have overtaken them long ago.
"So why did you have to die?" she whispered, peering up at the old, crusted ropes hanging down from the top of the post.
She thought it was cruel how they left it up there, still marked by the young man's blood. Hida said it kept others from making the same mistakes he did.
Erlan still didn't know what he'd done, other than the man had denounced the gods. Which was weird, considering he had participated in the fasting ceremonies every year of his own accord just before he'd died.
"It's a little cold to be out here by yourself."
Erlan nearly jumped out of her skin, her heart catching in her throat when she turned to see the familiar white-clad woman that had changed her home four years ago.
She usually wore her hood up and over head, but tonight the woman had it down, so her long, thick, chestnut brown hair easily caught in the wind. Her eyes were a simple hazel green, her skin a gentle tan. If she'd just change into the normal commoner ware, the woman would look just as plain and simple as anyone else.
But she wasn't. Somehow, she had the will of the gods on her side.
Erlan opened her mouth to speak, choked on whatever words managed to come through, then opted to shake her head, instead.
The woman frowned, as if disappointed by the girl's reaction.
"I don't bite, child. I promise."
Erlan couldn't help but look up at the post behind her. The woman sighed.
"You have nothing to worry about from me."
"I don't?"
Erlan silently kicked herself. She wished she could only keep her mouth shut.
Her older companion cocked an eyebrow.
"Depends. You're not practicing dark magic or consulting underworld things, are you?"
Erlan felt her eyes widen.
"N-no! Of course not, ma'am."
The woman gave her a tight smile.
"Of course not," she agreed. She gestured to a small bench standing to the side of them. Someone had built it not long after the execution. "Would you like to sit with me for a moment?"
Erlan could think of plenty of things she'd rather do than sit next to the runkist, but she still found herself nodding her head, moving to take a seat on the cold bench without pausing. The woman, however, stopped to brush debre from its surface.
"How are things at home?" She asked after a while. Erlan glanced at her from the side. Her legs were still too short to touch the ground from the bench, and she had been swinging them absently as she waited for something - anything - to happen.
"They're okay," Erlan replied softly, her gaze once again drifting over to the cursed wood.
"Yeah?"
Erlan nodded, her eyes falling back down to her feet.
"Yeah."
She could feel the woman's scrutiny without having to look up.
"You know, when I was a girl, I grew up with four older brothers and three male cousins."
"What!" Erlan blurted, momentarily caught off guard. "I can barely handle my sister!"
The woman laughed.
"Oh, yes, it was a handful. There was one time where one of them - I still don't know who - sowed a piece of dog scat into my childhood doll."
Erlan scrunched her nose.
"Ew."
The woman nudged her shoulder.
"It was horrible," she agreed. "Did something similar happen to you tonight?"
The young girl blinked, confused, until she realized that the runkist was asking why she was out here, in the dark, all alone.
"I . . ." She started, then stopped herself. Hida would toss her in the ocean if she heard her talking to the woman about their family.
"I lost them in the war, you know," the runkist said softly. Erlan wished she had the woman's name. Four years, and not once had she heard anyone say it. She glanced up, peering at the woman's face. She didn't look much older than Mother.
"Your brothers?" she inquired.
"Yes. They fought on the Cardian front."
Erlan went silent for a moment.
"That's where my father died," she said, her words barely more than a whisper. The woman rested a hand on her shoulder; Erlan was shocked to feel the warmth seep through her cloak. She's expected it to be as cold as frozen snow, like what everyone else assumed she was. Somehow, the young girl found herself staring up into the runkist's eyes, unable to move.
"You are a bright young girl, Erlan," the woman said. Erlan felt her eyes widen.
She knows my name! Still, her companion continued, either ignoring or not noticing the shock Erlan felt.
"No one wins in war. Your family - your village - are all doing the best they can. Don't let your compassion waver when they let grief consume them." Both, woman and girl, glanced over their shoulders, at the old stone house Erlan and her older sister had grown up in.
"Does it get better?" Erlan found herself asking. The woman gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"Sometimes. Sometimes not." She paused. "You won't get your old life back, regardless. But that's okay."
Tears suddenly sprung in Erlan's eyes. She shoved herself away from the runkist's hold.
"How could you say that that's okay?" she demanded, her voice breaking. "Papa is dead. Mama is sick, and Hida-" she stopped, her heart stopping at how close she almost came to giving her sister away.
Hida curses the gods. And you.
She shook her head, desperate to change the topic, but then the woman reached forward to hold Erlan's hands.
"Hida never talks to me. I'm losing everyone."
"Oh, child," the woman sympathized, pulling the smaller girl into a hug. "I'm sorry you must go through this. Everyone is." She pulled away, and Erlan was just shy of being frustrated with herself when she felt the tears streaming down her cheeks and the snot past her lips. To her credit, the woman didn't seem to care that Erlan got snot on her cloak. Instead, she fisted a sleeve over her hand and went to wipe Erlan's cheeks with it.
This was the most caring show of affection she'd received in the past four years that wasn't hinted with a tang of bitterness.
"Do you know how to read?" The woman asked, bending down to meet her eyes. Erlan hesitated.
"A-a little," she admitted, feeling her cheeks warm in embarrassment. "Papa taught Hida when she was young, but . . ."
"No matter," the woman waved away the comment, tossing her a small smile. "Would you like to learn?"
For the first time in a long while, Erlan felt a wave of excitement wash over her. She sniffed back an oncoming round of snot, a smile tugging at her lips.
"You could teach me?"
The woman leaned forward.
"I can teach you how to read the language of the gods."
~ 1496 Words ~