[Footbath] by Gil & Bluesman – The Dazzling Lads

If you happen to be travelling along the purple meadows up the Trodian Hill at dusk, you may not notice, in the soft glow of the blooming jewel flowers, the human village of Cor obscured in the valley. The locals did not light torches at night except on sacred ceremonies. They could see well enough in the dark, a quality that had greatly benefited them on several occasions in the past. They preferred to be hidden from the prying eyes of outsiders. Their huts of dark wood and reeds blended well and were settled away from the moonlight’s touch. 

The chieftain elders believed it best not to be involved in neighbouring communities, an understanding shared by many of the locals residing there. They thrived much satisfaction in this way of living: peaceful and undisturbed. Any wandering traveller hoping for a calm pause on a long journey would be met with disagreeable hospitality. Indeed on rare occurrences, a visitor would stumble their way to Cor, and upon returning to their homes, bring with them stories to tell of an unpleasant hamlet by the Trodian Vale. Non-human races would not even get the chance, subjected to several unspeakable atrocities. It was less out of malice and more of fear or suspicion. 

Stories surrounding Cor started as just a few scattered accounts but quickly grew in number. The village gained a sullen reputation and was avoided entirely. There was an unspoken agreement of obliviousness between Cor and other nearby villages. This was much to the delight of the locals. However, when one day an epidemic began to spread, the people of Cor found themselves without aid. Some shut their doors in fear that the illness would spread to their town, while others believed divine retribution. The illness was slow in its effect and infectivity, but once the individual fell into a deep fever, death was inevitable. 

The old were the common victims, and it didn’t take long for the chieftain elders to die out one by one. Left with no options, many of the remaining healthy and

strongest men braved the pilgrimage to consult Jonus, a wise man, who resides at a faraway spring rumoured to have properties capable of healing any affliction. Not a single returned, however, and with every passing season, hope for some miracle grew bleaker and bleaker. 

Todd was a well-built young man. He had witnessed his relatives fall victim to the disease, watched his father and older brothers leave for the spring, never to return, and now stood at his ageing mother’s side whose life was gradually being drained away. Unable to watch her suffering any longer, he proposed to journey to the spring himself. The remaining locals had long abandoned the idea, but he was determined. He was confident in his ability to match fiercer races in battle and his resilience to endure the treacherous journey. His wish was granted by the chieftain leader, Axl, and he left for the spring the next dawn. 

He first had to traverse the winding groves of Ghandana, home of the dwarves. When Todd encountered one of them, he assumed it was an animal, for the frightened dwarf scurried away when it had laid eyes on him like some half-witted creature. He frequently found himself lost in the vastness of the Ghandana Forest, and at some point intruded upon a clearing where a large group of dwarves had gathered in earnest. The moment Todd’s presence became apparent, they quickly retreated into the trees. It was clear to Todd that they didn’t wish to be questioned, not even for directions. He wondered if the dwarves simply feared humans or if there was some other reason for their prejudice. 

It took him seven days and nights to reach the river Trois. Far off into the horizon were the blue meadows against the sunrise and further north should be the small town of Gorgon. There he spent a moment of rest. When midnight arrived, he left the town as silently as he had come. 

Todd reached the City of Ardale in twenty days. Though it was long, the trip proved undemanding. There were instances where he had been approached by a few marauders, but they were easily taken care of. 

In the bustle of the city of all sorts of races and creatures, Todd found himself at odds with his decision; and regret began to set in. Part of that was due to the anxiety building inside him as he neared the end of his journey. West of Ardale should be the Sage’s Forest, or at least that was how it was marked on his map. However, when he asked the locals, the so-called ‘Sage’s Forest’ didn’t exist. Instead, barely visible from a tall building, it was no more than a large cluster of trees, barely a forest. 

Todd sat on a lonely corner in the tavern, silently sipping ale, careful not to draw attention to himself. He started to ponder over Cor, his family, and what his decision should be.

‘This is miserable.’ 

Todd muttered to himself words of utmost discontent. The ale wasn’t settling well in his stomach. He could just leave Cor behind with his children and wife if he wanted to. He was unsure whether the hamlet was really the best place for his family. Many times he disagreed with their old customs and unchanging ways. The elders had their own brand of stubbornness. Gorgon wasn’t particularly far away from Cor and could stand as a suitable place for a new home. But just as he considered that, thoughts returned to that of his dead brethren, and self-righteous honour. 

Perhaps he can be the one to rewrite his town’s history. His grandfather, the chieftain who passed just before he had left, was a cruel man, and Todd resented him fully. Todd considered himself an idealist, a free thinker. Inspired by the likes of the philosophers who thought deeply about things and went against the grain of their common man. 

Most of them were subject to death, but their thoughts lived on. Maybe that’s how Todd would end up if it wasn’t for the fact he shared his thoughts with no one except his family. His death in search of spring would be meaningless. He wasn’t sick, nor did his family show the common signs. 

So why did he make this sudden judgement…? 

As night began to fall, Todd let out a guttural scream. He furiously punched a nearby tree, shaking it to its roots, and frightening the birds that hung up top, sending them soaring. 

As he hung his now bloodied hand on his opposite palm, he feared that that was a sign of what was to come. Suddenly he didn’t want to be here, suddenly he wanted to leave for home. He wanted to pull his family awake during the moonlight and rush them into the darkness with their things, not making a sound. 

His eleven-year-old son would cry about his friend. And then Todd would have to wake him and bring him too. 

His little girl would cry for her sitter, but she was already stretched out in bed with her fever. Todd would hug her tight and bury her face in his chest like a makeshift pillow. So, if she yelled and complained, no one but himself could hear her. 

How horrible of a father was he right now? He could feel his older brothers looking down at him, begging him to return home. 

Just as he was about to turn back around, and head home in his sensibility, he heard the slight trickle of water echoing through the dark. 

The call of his late grandfather beckoned him forward to finish the task. For he was so close!

Maybe when Todd came back, he could share his philosophy with those who survived. Maybe he could comfort his daughter with the love and passion from the sitter of her last couple of years. This disease can spark change, and improvement. 

But what would happen then? Would Todd become the leader? The hamlet is dysfunctional. And Todd was no leader. He was the youngest of three brothers, he was always the little man. His wife was a sensible woman, and well respected throughout the hamlet as a flower garden, but stern when needed. She raised their children well. Then, of course, it had to be her. 

But then what if? 

What if the rest of the community wouldn’t appreciate a woman at the forefront? 

Should Todd just take the water from the spring, and leave with his family and close confidants? Leave the rest that were unwilling to change, unwilling to adapt to die? Should Todd just leave now, leave the spring and Jonus as a myth…? 

He rubbed his bare forehead like he needed to scratch his aching brain. He felt uncomfortable with the fate of so many at his hands. A good man would reach for the spring now and go, go and save everyone. But Todd wasn’t a good man, he was selfish. 

He continued west towards the ‘Sage’s Forest’. When he came upon the grove, it was so thick that the sunlight couldn’t penetrate the leaves. He was so close. An elf, skin darkened with a blue hue, sat at the edge of a small clearing. Rocks were piled up, the cracks filled with mud. A small trickle from the darkness, the edge of where the small waterfall began out of sight. Like it never existed. The pool was painfully small. And Todd’s heart sank. 

‘A human. Don’t like what you see?’ Jonus, the elf hermit, said presumptuously. His legs were dipped into the pool, but only his feet were in the water. Todd gulped as Jonus let out a sudden grunt, giving Todd another look over. ‘No, a sense of relief. But you still seem conflicted.’ 

‘Sir, or mister, I’ve come here to save my—’ 

‘I know, I’ve heard of the plight of your town. We really went down the food chain, haven’t we? You’re strong, but you lack their confidence and glory. I love it.’ ‘I don’t seem to follow.’ 

‘Men are selfish beings— 

We want to protect what’s close to us, regarding what’s close to others second. The choice you must make is lonely. I, for one, know that the water that remains in this pool is more than enough for your hamlet.’ 

There was silence between them for a moment. The ever-flowing, but soft flow of water raised Todd’s anxiety further.

‘But I hold onto this pool. So, call me a monster, but I’ll make the choice for you.’ 

And with those words, Jonus reached down into the pool, pulling out a cup covered in dirt from the very bottom. He filled it with water, then handed it to Jonus. This was it; this was all Todd will be given. 

‘—as I find it far easier for a man to make the second choice. For whom you chose to save is a simple decision. Now go, enjoy my special magic cup.’ Todd was stunned, and he took the cup. He started up words, feeling like he should at least give a sound argument. 

‘… and you aren’t willing to share more?’ 

‘This is all that I will offer.’ 

Todd felt a bit of relief splash over him. 

‘Is your family sick yet?’ 

‘No sir, luckily.’ 

‘Then take this cup, let them drink from it. Then run. Well I mean, that’s just my bit of advice. Take that bit how you wish.’ 

And so he wandered back into the darkness, leaving Jonus alone with his decision. 

Groaning, Jonus stretched and pulled out his pruning body from the water. ‘What an eventful footbath.’