Begonia Chapter 1: The Approach Part 1

I sat cross-legged in a field. The blades of tall grass swayed without wind. The overhead sun’s dim rays held no warmth. My ribbons were a mass of knotted ends, struggling to untangle themselves. The ground shook, and as I got up to escape the emerging fissures in the earth, porcelain-white bones erupted from deep below. The skull of a beast stared at me. It was the one with no flesh on its bones, and I could see all the way through its body, but I felt as if I was the one it stared through.

I opened my eyes. The second-floor bed was smaller than the one I had back home in the north. After a few days of sinking into its spongy stuffing, it became softer and more comfortable than anything I had since. My morning routine was simple. As I rubbed my face with water from the washbasin, I looked through the window at the scenery outside. It was morning. Trees began to sprout from rolling hills of sand. They were tall, far taller than the wagon I resided within, with crooked branches forming a web of foliage to block out the sun. I sat down and began preparations. The face in the mirror had green eyes, still a bit squinty from an abrupt awakening. Light blonde hair, tinged with a pinkish hue, fell in curls to the sides. Maintaining these curls was the hardest part of the morning. I snaked the ribbons wrapped around my arms into my hair, forming tightly wound spirals. This was the position I kept them in. The ribbons began to radiate with heat; with a deep breath of concentration I tried to make them as hot as possible. This curled the hair for the day. Afterwards, I patted a small amount of odorless powder on my face. It was important to maintain the suppleness and moisture of my skin.

I stepped down the ladder down to the first floor. My companions were waiting. It looked as if one, Kirill, had not slept at all. His eyes looked shallow, staring off into nothing. Dark circles bordered his eyes, and his typical glaring expression was dull and unfocused. His disheveled appearance blunted the anger that came off of his face at all times. It was an image fitting the full black of his uniform. The face of a man who’d lost everything and struggled to comprehend the truth of the present.

“Good morning, everyone.” I greeted them.

“Morning.” Canary responded. His clearly-stolen white uniform didn’t suit him well. Why did he steal it, anyways? We had spare clothing in the attic. His spindly limbs were awkwardly bent under the table between the two rows of seats. The sight reminded me of a puppet stuffed into a box too small for it.

“You’ve slept in, Anastasia. How is your head?” Maria asked. Her icy stare briefly turned in my direction. Her dull yellow eyes offered a passing glance. The doll’s solitary nature was clear from her quiet demeanor and curled-up posture when she sat. She paid little attention to my entrance, absorbed in moving wooden tiles along a game board we’d brought along. Delanor, our Archive runaway and self-proclaimed navigator, sat across from her, following in turn with her own moves.

“I’m fine, thank you. I don’t feel a headache at all.” I rubbed the spot on the top of my head where a piece of stray debris had knocked me unconscious. “I am feeling quite famished. Where is the captain?” I asked.

“In the kitchen. She said she had something prepared for us.” Maria said.

“I’ve grown tired of dry biscuits. I hope she has something else in mind.” I spoke to myself. Traveler’s food was lacking, both in moisture and taste.

The captain appeared from behind two swinging wooden doors, backing up as she pushed them open with her back. A plate of something sat, releasing a cloud of steam, in each of her hands.

“Morning Anastasia. You’ve come just in time for…pancakes! I hope you enjoy.” The captain set them down and ran a hand through her black hair, sniffing the hand after doing so.

“Pancakes? But how? We have no milk or butter.”

The captain proudly proclaimed, “I nabbed them from an abandoned tent on our retreat. I saw some guys walking in and out with sacks of foodstuffs earlier, and I thought there could be something left in there. And I was surprised. Now we have all the milk and butter we could possibly want. The milk is dried, of course, but it’s nothing a little water won’t fix.” her confidence was clear in the way she carried herself. She held her head high, even when assuming mundane tasks, such as making pancakes in a tiny kitchen.

“Thief. You could be charged for crimes against the state.” Kirill quietly muttered. He turned his nose up at the prospect of pancakes and closed his eyes. Perhaps he finally gave into his exhaustion.

I wasted no time in securing a plate for myself. The pancakes were thick and fluffy, the freshly solidified batter dotted with small pockets of air. The warm scent of flour and milk filled the air.

“Hold on, Anastasia.” Delanor pinched the opposite end of the plate with a hand. “With two plates and five of us, we will have to share.” Her tail stood up straight behind her.

“I’ve got six more on the skillet in the back. No need to be hasty.” The captain reassured us. She fished around in her pockets for a moment before tossing a small pile of utensils upon the table. “You’re welcome.” She disappeared back behind the wooden doors.

“Allow me the first pancake. You’ve had something to eat already, have you not?” I asked Delanor.

Her white hair was tied in two twintails behind her head, fastened by ties which resembled a particular flower. The most notable features were the catlike ears at the top of her head, which turned in the direction of whomever she was speaking with. A small tuft of white hair sprouted from inside each one. She wore the same uniform she’d taken from the Archive. It was a long-sleeved piece which left the shoulders and a small section of midriff exposed, as well as a short dress that ended above the knees. When I first saw her, she had sandals, but when I looked down, she was barefoot. “I was eagerly awaiting the captain’s surprise. My wait has been far longer than yours. Please, allow me the pleasure.” Delanor retorted.

“There are two plates. You both can take one. I do not mind the wait. And if I remember correctly, the man beside me hardly needs food at all.” Maria said. Canary, sitting far enough away that it could hardly be said he was next to anyone, nodded slightly.

—

At Delanor’s suggestion, we had both decided to wait until the captain had finished cooking for everyone before starting our meal.

“Maria, how much did you tell Anastasia? About St. Keres.” The captain asked. Her stack of pancakes was at least two or three taller than the rest of ours. It was a worthy reward for acting as the cook.

“Only a brief account. There was a girl who I’d never seen before, in a white dress, darting about the air.” Maria answered.

“She could fly?” I asked

“Yes. On white-feathered wings. I do not believe she was one of ours. Sprouting wings from one’s back is no small feat. Her clothing was also unusual. I am most sure she was a high ranking officer, or maybe the high commander, of the enemy forces.” Maria said. “She was accompanied by the Academy head who followed behind her, which was another unusual sight. I would expect that woman to find herself second to only one other, that one other being the man asleep to your right.” Maria motioned to the sleeping Kirill, who had turned prone on the wagon seat.

“There was a great uproar on the front lines as many of the dolls turned against their compatriots.” the captain added. Our great emperor might have ordered them to cover our retreat, which I am thankful for, but there was already a great disruption with regards to the presence of this new girl. She is a girl, by the way. She looks hardly older than Maria.”

“I see. Is the empire lost? Are we exiled from our own lands?” I asked. The gloomy realization that I might never return home washed over me, cool as an outpouring of water dumped on my head.

Maria sighed. “For now, yes. We are heading to a new nation, where we might find some hope to reclaim what is ours. Delanor, please tell Anastasia about our new destination.”

Delanor’s eyes lit up as she nearly jumped out of her seat. Her pancakes were done long ago, and she had sat fidgeting until someone called her name. “We are heading to the nation of the Sarassin. To be accurate, it’s a nation of both sarassin and felines, but since there are also major groups of felines living outside of this nation, the native race of reptilians claim the country’s namesake.” Delanor removed a map from beneath her seat and spread it out before her. Her finger tapped a spot on the map, a particular border area in the southern region. “We are here. Before long, we should cross the official border into the Sarassin territory. To call it a nation would be inaccurate, as it is moreso a collection of loosely related city-states. My Sarassin is elementary, but it should be good enough for us to navigate the area. Each of these city-states is centered around a Great Tree. These are trees more than a thousand meters wide and a thousand meters tall, where whole cities are built within.”

“How will this help us reclaim our lost empire?” I asked, confused. None of the information was related to our primary goal.

“This is how, my dear Anastasia. There is a Sarassin legend about the ones who planted the Great Trees, and how they wielded tremendous power, power great enough to part seas and move mountains. There is no word for it in our current tongue, but in Sarassin I believe it should translate to ‘recall’ or ‘reminiscence’. We will go to one of the Great Trees, gain this power, and use it to defeat the invaders.” Delanor explained. She traced out a complicated path on the map, one that circled back upon itself multiple times. While her story made sense, the path on the map did not follow.

“And you know where we are going?” I asked again.

“I’ve got no clue, my apologies. These places are not well mapped due to the density of forest surrounding every settlement. See?” she pointed outside the wagon. Indeed, the trees had grown far more numerous. Their overhead cover cast a shadow over us such that the sunlight passing into our wagon was spotted and scarce. “I do have one contact that may be able to help us, and we will search for him. Captain, I trust that our food stores are significant enough that we will not go hungry?”

“If we are careful, they might last us a week. When we run out, we’ll be stuck foraging in this forest. Do you know the flora and fauna of this area?” the captain said.

“I know of a few. So long as we do not lose our sense of direction, a week should be plenty of time.” Delanor concluded.

“I am suspicious of this legend. What basis do we have for believing in it? I have never heard of such a thing.” Maria interjected. She stabbed at her pancakes in an almost aggressive fashion, placing small bits of the pulverized food into her mouth.

“That emperor said there are nations in the east across the ocean who believe something similar. There is a small chance that it will come to nothing. By chance, we do have a third reason to believe in its truth.” Delanor said. “Maria, you said you felt something strange back at St. Keres, did you not?”

Maria raised her hand as she finished chewing. “Yes. I saw a field of flowers, for just a moment. My skin crawled with the feeling that it was something I had never seen before, a novel technique. There is a chance our enemy already has hold of this reminiscence, and we are only following in their footsteps in the hope of fighting on equal ground. I believe it will be difficult to defeat the Academy head with conventional techniques. She knows every technique recorded in every book, and has knowledge of virtually everything written under the sun. We are at a disadvantage if our repertoires are already known at the time a battle begins.”

“I see. If you say so, I will trust you, Maria.” I meekly answered. “Tell me more about this Sarassin nation, Delanor. Why do both felines and sarassin exist here?”

“Both races trace their origins to this nation, but it is likely that the truth lies more closely with the nation's reptilian inhabitants. The feline language is all but extinct here, and its only common use remains in areas in and around the Archive. This all happened centuries ago, but as far as I know, the races exist on equal footing.” Delanor said.

The wagon hit a bump. The plates and utensils shook around, clinking against the table, but as we settled to a stop, the godsteeds that Kirill had brought with him whinnied loudly. Kirill opened his eyes instinctively and shook his head. “What an uninspired dream,” he said. “It’s time for us to leave this wooden box. The path has become uncrossable.”

—

“How else do you expect us to move all of our things?” The captain asked.

“Carry it on your backs. My godsteeds will not fall to the level of workhorses. They have done enough pulling the wagon.” Kirill insisted.

I stayed in the wagon, overhearing their conversation from within. As I packed my things, clothing, trinkets, a few books and pages I had brought along, and the game set were all items I did my best to fold and place within the rucksack. My favorite dress was worn from constant wear, and as I removed it from its place within the dresser I noticed the faded streaks of dirt stained into the fabric. No amount of washing could get it out. It had been replaced by my current traveling wear, far too simple for my liking. At least the captain had managed to procure something pink for me to wear.

“There’s no helping it. When we finish our business with researching this Sarassin sorcery, we will find you a tailor to fix it.” Maria said reassuringly. She placed her hand around my shoulder. Her bare hand was uncharacteristically warm, in the wintry village of our childhood her gloved paw was always freezing.

“Thank you, Maria. Have you finished packing your things?” I asked. Maria was a studious and serious girl. I didn’t expect her to carry anything more than that which was absolutely necessary.

“I have. Let us depart. We should review the situation regarding the horses. Are you able to form another horse with your ribbons?” Maria asked.

“I should be able to.”

As we left the wagon, Canary and Delanor were hard at work, scattering bits of dirt, leaves, and branches over the wagon. Their attempts proved somewhat futile as the wagon was far taller than either of them, and with nothing to stick to, they succeeded at nothing more than spreading dust over the wagon’s wooden exterior.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked.

“Covering it up. Hiding away the wagon to avoid anyone who might pilfer it for parts.”

“That’s absurd. Stop this.” Maria ordered. “There should be hardly anyone in this forest. Once we find Delanor’s contact, we can circle back to retrieve the wagon. “Anastasia, you’ve forgotten something.” She returned to the wagon and reappeared with a sack of rounded wooden pieces, varying in shape and length. “Use these. No more than two riders can fit on one of the godsteeds, so we will require you to produce a horse or two.”

“I understand, Maria.” I said. I peered at the pile of scattered wood. This pointed one and the two triangular pieces should form the head. Those long, curved pieces were to form the main body, and the straight pieces should be legs. Smaller bits provided support around the joints. At my order, the black ribbon strands on my arms and legs unraveled themselves, exposing my bare skin to the musty forest air. They spun and wove, knotting at points and wrapping themselves around each other, until two more horses had been made. Unlike the godsteeds, they made no noise, and stood plainly as if they were statues. To me, they lived. They had thoughts, simple as they were, and if I spoke, I could expect them to nod their heads in response. The blank sockets where eyes would be burned with a warm orange glow, a small ball of light embedded within its body of wood and ribbon.

“There. We can carry our things with these, and perhaps even place a rider upon them.” I said.

Kirill ceased his argument with the captain to examine my handiwork. He paced around one, and then the other. “Hmm.” he placed his hand on his chin.

“I hope they are to your high excellency’s liking.” I said quietly.

“There’s no need for that. Your skills are impressive.” He said back to me. “You may have the privilege of riding on my steed. It would not be your first time.”

—

I sat closely behind Kirill as he gripped the reins on his horse. Canary and Maria were relegated to my horses on the emperor’s insistence that they not dirty his things. The captain, who had some riding experience, led the other with Delanor at her back. The wings on the godsteed felt unwieldy folded to the sides, and their position kept me a safe distance from holding on to Kirill’s back for support.

The footsteps of the horses made little noise, as the ground was soft, covered in moss. Most prominent among them was a thin, pencil-like mushroom which bloomed with a thin film, resembling a bride’s veil. From time to time we also passed large, rounded brown growths, almost perfect spheres, but from a closer look it could be seen that the skin was covered in a stringy fluid which would stick to your hand. These were found around streams of water, so as we passed by a line of the humps, we gathered water to be later purified before drinking.

As our food stores dwindled over the days and Delanor’s navigation became increasingly erratic and desperate, the forest seemed to blend into itself. After a few days, it became unclear whether we were moving at all. Delanor discovered some edible items growing on the rocks and under the tree bark, particularly the thinner mushrooms and wood-ear fungus growing in rows close to the ground. She discovered this by testing them on herself. The rest of the party refused outright to eat anything they didn’t know was safe, and Kirill refused in my place at any of Delanor’s experimental suggestions.

On the eighth day, the last of the food that the captain had brought ran dry.

“And that’s it. From this day forward, we’ll be relying on the graces of nature to feed us.” the captain said gloomily. My mind went dark at the prospect of a diet of forest fungus. It wasn’t so much the taste, but rather the complete lack of nourishment. An all-fungus diet was similar to an all-vegetable diet. One could eat as much as they could, until their stomach swelled to the size of a head of cabbage, and yet they would still be hungry and lethargic.

“Let us stop for the night.” Delanor called out from behind us.

Our camp was little more than a fire surrounded by a sheet to direct the smoke upwards.

“Winter approaches.” Canary said. He sat hunched over, with his knees in his arms.

“Feline, your navigation is horrid. Why are we changing directions every day? We may as well not move at all.” Kirill said.

Delanor’s tail snapped up in irritation, as did the expression on her face. “It’s called a sweep. We’re looking for someone, so we want to cover a geometric area so that we are likely to find them eventually. I’m sure we’re close. The opinion of a coddled child like you is irrelevant.” She puffed out air from her nostrils at her last statement.

“I am several years your senior, cat. Speak with respect.”

“You could have fooled me. None of your behavior is that of an adult. You hurt everyone around you, and expect them to serve you nonetheless. I first heard about you at your inauguration. Mind reminding us all of how that went?. And you still expect any semblance of respect from your subjects when you can’t be asked to show the most basic dignity? Don’t make me laugh. You know, there’s a title we had for you back at the Archive. It was “Kirill the short-lived”, because everyone thinks you’re going to find yourself dead in your sleep one day, because you are despised by everyone who knows your name.”

“I am respected by my subjects.” Kirill quietly responded.

“Respected by whom?” Delanor rebutted.

“I do. I respect him. He’s still trying his best, even now.” I said. Kirill’s face had fallen dark, and he said nothing else.

—

I had just closed my eyes when I heard the sound of voices in the distance. Well-worn and male, a language I didn’t recognize. When I came to, a group of unfamiliar individuals were approaching from the side of a collapsed mound of turf. Most of them were white-haired felines, similar in appearance to Delanor. One or two had scaly green skin and spiny ridges above their reptilian yellow eyes. These must have been the sarassin that Delanor mentioned. Conspicuous among them was an older male who I had heard from a distance, quietly speaking with Delanor in a language I didn’t understand. He had a big forehead and facial hair above his mouth which curled up and to the sides. Besides him stood a sarassin. Only its snout was visible; the rest of its body was obscured by a grey hood with a spiral, a snake curling into itself. It nodded twice at something said by the older feline and vanished into the darkness.

“Wake up all,” Delanor called out to us. Most of us were awake already. Canary laid in a light stupor, but at a quick shake from the captain, he opened his eyes and sat up. “It’s time for us to go. We’ve been found.”

—

Daybreak was quickly approaching by the time we arrived at the village. The dwellings were simple but sturdy, fashioned from cut wood. Their materials likely came from the very willows from which their homes extended, as several incorporated part of a tree in their structure. The trees themselves were over twenty meters tall and several meters across. Building a home in this way was clever.

The man leading the search party was none other than Delanor’s uncle. As he showed us into his home, it was clear that much care was taken in its design. In spite of the unimpressive exterior, the house had several rooms dug underground and fitted with walls on every side, such that one might not even know they were in what amounted to an elaborate basement. There we slept on the floor until the late afternoon.

“The harvest’s been good this year.” Delanor’s uncle said. His name was Wolgun. At the dinner table, he looked not quite as fat as he did before, but his belly still poked out from beneath his shirt. Other than that, his amicable smile and generous behavior was enough for him to ease our suspicions. When we awoke there was a pile of plain bread loaves with a few bottles of wine set out on the table. Wolgun hadn’t spared the time and was already eating by the time he invited us to sit. While it was simple, for a group whose diet had increasingly consisted of wood-ear fungus for the past few days, it was a welcome change.

“Is that so.” Delanor nibbled at one of the pieces of bread he’d laid out in a pile. “I do not see any arable land around here.”

“That’s because there is none. All of the food is carted over. We send what we can provide over to the Great Tree, and the governor sends us food and other items. He’s a good man, that Exia. He even paid us a visit shortly after his ascent.” Wolgun answered.

“A royal procession? For you to pay your respects?” I asked.

“No, nothing like that. He was elected by a vote.”

“A vote.” Maria’s ears perked up, as if she’d never heard the words before.

“Stop that, Maria. We’re guests.” I stopped her before she could say more.

“My apologies, sir.” Maria bowed her head. She poured a small amount of wine into a wooden cup and swallowed it in a gulp. “We appreciate the hospitality.”

“Anything for my young Delanor. I rarely see her, with her work and all. Really, Delanor, I knew not what to make of that letter you sent on that carrier swallow. ‘A few moons pass, and I may visit’? If I didn’t know you better, I would have thought of it as a joke. Only when a column of smoke peeked out of the forest while I was out in the looking-tower did I remember the letter. And how lucky I was that it was you and your friends.” he said.

Kirill hadn’t said a word or touched any food. His face was still downcast. Sitting with the family of a girl who’d insulted him in no uncertain terms a few hours earlier must have been uncomfortable.

“That’s all passed. There must be a reason for your visit. Tell me.” Wolgun said flatly.

“We’re here to find the reminiscence of old.” Delanor said.

“What? Ha ha. There is no such thing. The Great Trees might have been raised by some feat of horticulture, but if you are looking for a world-changing magical power, I can suggest you some mind-bending mushrooms.” he teased.

“Uncle, we are being serious. Let us set aside the legend for a moment. If we wanted to discover the origin of the Great Trees, where should we go?” Delanor insisted.

“I suppose it isn’t so humorous when you put it that way. A traveler appears from time to time searching for it, but we never hear from them again. They either give up in their search or perish, or even don’t find it meaningful to share their findings. If you want to learn about the Great Trees, I would recommend Exia’s own, Margaret’s Welcome. For those of you that are not aware,” he looked around at the rest of us. “It is the capital of the province. I have a gift for you Delanor, something that should make navigating this area easier. Finish your food, and I will have it ready.”

—

As we waited in the dining room, the pile of bread slowly dwindled until only a few stray crusts remained on the platter. Wolgun appeared with a thick metal tube with a lens fitted to both bent ends in one hand, and a sheet in the other.

“Delanor, listen here. The most important part of navigating this forest.” Wolgun said. He unfolded the sheet to reveal a map. It was a map of Sarassin, with each province and Great Tree outlined in faded red ink. Smaller settlements, including the one we resided in, were also marked with a small cross. To the side of the map, there was also a diagram with crudely drawn trees of different sizes, each with a number above it.

“To know where you are, you will need this looking glass. Extended fully it can reach above the tree cover and you will be able to see the Great Trees. The number above each tree over here,” he pointed to the diagram to the side. “It is a distance indicator. You can estimate how far you are from a Great Tree with this. If you know your distance from two different Great Trees, you can estimate your location. Easier still is traveling towards a Great Tree, in which you can move directly towards one. The nearest one, of course, is Margaret’s Welcome, which is about two days to the west.” he pointed to one of the markers on the map. “The second closest, incidentally, is named after one of the Sveshens, Aya, the Scholar. It is in the north.”

“I didn’t know she had her own Great Tree.” Maria said in surprise.

“She made connections all over the world during her life. Maybe you will too.” Wolgun winked at her.

“Thank you, Uncle. Is this all we need to reach the Great Tree?” Delanor asked. “I would like to make sure.”

“It is. Let us step outside for a second, so you can try the looking glass for yourself.” Wolgun said.

—

Delanor cranked the lever to the side to extend the looking glass, revealing smaller, thinner tubes that soon stretched far over our heads. Peering into it, her tail flicked back and forth in excitement as the top lens finally cleared the tree cover. “I see it! It is huge! And even now, I can see a bright light coming from within. Anastasia, would you like to look?”

“If you don’t mind.” I answered. Carefully, I turned the device in my hand. Its long shape was a little unwieldy, as holding a long pole would be. I raised the lens to my eye and the Great Tree came into view. It was red and yellow, hundreds of thousands of leaves all changing color in the autumn and giving off a warm hue. The tree itself stood thousands of meters tall, clearly visible, even from a great distance. The branches reached far off in every direction, twisting into the empty sky. It seemed alive, as a glow, as if the sun was itself being concealed by the tree, spilled through several openings in the trunk.

“Do people live there?” I asked, as I continued to look around.

“Yes, inside the tree itself is the main city. They’ve spent many years digging out the inside. It provides protection from the elements, warmth in the winter, and shelter from the sun in the summer.” Wolgun answered.

I turned towards the north, but the more I looked, it seemed that only an empty expanse of flat forest extended in that direction. I felt a sting, a quiet burn from the ribbon on my left arm. In a flash, another tree appeared, its leaves a sky-blue hue, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. The trunk of Aya’s tree was a silvery black. It’s otherworldly color and shine, mirroring the surface of a lake, was a fitting image. Her hair was black, her eyes blue. I recalled as much from a picture book in my father’s study. The tree was a reflection of that.

“Anastasia.” Delanor spoke loudly in my ear.

“What!” I jumped back in surprise. Her face was within a finger’s length of my face.

“You have been looking for a while. I was going to give a chance to anyone else who would like to try.” she said.

“Oh. I see. Here it is.” I returned the looking glass to her, careful not to disbalance the wobbly metal shaft.

The captain was next. With one eye trained in the looking glass, and the other seemingly closed, it popped back open when she closed in on the Great Tree. “We’re going there?” she asked no one in particular. “That’s huge! I can’t wait. Thousands of people live there, right?”

“Tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands.” Wolgun said. “I have only been there on business, so I haven't had the chance to see anything of note. I hope you all can experience it to the fullest.”

—

That night, as I laid on the floor of the guest room, I heard a conversation outside. Curious, I hopped off of my bed and looked outside from the corner of a window. It was almost pitch black, but lights posted at the doors of each home lit the area enough to see a faint outline of my surroundings. Canary was on the ground, his hands pointed straight out beneath him, and his legs pointed outwards. He bent his arms and attempted to straighten them again. As he struggled to lift himself back up, the figure behind him put a foot pressing into his back. Canary’s back gave in and his form collapsed. He unfurled on the ground, gasping for air.

“Get up.” the figure behind him said. It was Kirill’s voice. “You want to become strong, do you not?”

“...” Canary took a deep breath. “Yes. I do.”

“There is no shame in being weak. There is only shame in staying weak. Do you understand that?” Kirill barked.

“Yes.” Canary said between labored breaths.

“If you do, then keep going. Reach a hundred and we can move on to something else.”

“Couldn’t we do something else now?” Canary asked.

“No. Without a solid foundation of strength, technique finds itself crushed in the face of overwhelming force. Continue.”

Canary turned back on his stomach. With a heave of effort, he lifted himself back up, gradually lowering himself with his arms and repeating the motion. My hand slipped off of the windowsill and knocked against the chair I was kneeling on, and before anyone noticed my presence I slipped back into the guest room and returned to bed.

—

“And that’s all. Everything you need will be in here.” Wolgun put his hand around Delanor’s shoulder. “Don’t forget to take care of yourselves. There is a bit of money in there too, in case you need to buy something.”

“Thank you, Uncle. I don’t know if we’d ever be able to repay you.” Delanor said.

“You needn’t worry about it for now. When you find yourself in a high place, don’t forget me. Wolgun said. He smiled and gave Delanor a light shove, as if beckoning her forward. “The rest of you. Delanor will be in your care.”

As Wolgun and his settlement faded into the background, I thought I saw a glimpse of Margaret’s Welcome through the overhead cover.

The forest leaving the settlement was largely the same as the forest approaching it. Delanor, along with the captain, had grown into the habit of chewing a fibrous piece of willow bark as they rode. Other than producing a faint crunching noise, it had no taste and was otherwise inedible. Canary and Maria, delegated to the wagon-puller horses, also fidgeted with boredom behind us, but said nothing to each other.

I looked around nervously behind me. Maria was daydreaming, staring off into nothing. I tugged at Kirill’s sleeve.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Last night I woke up to use the bathroom, and-” I stammered. “And I saw you and Canary. I was wondering what you might have been doing in the middle of the night.”

“Training.” he answered. “I’ll put some muscle on his bones.”

“I see. That’s so kind of you.”

“There is no kindness about it. If he is to stand at my side, weakness is not an option.” he said. “As an abyssal, he has an infinite potential to build up his own body. He is not the first abyssal to walk down this path, nor will he be the last.”

“What do you mean? Did you know any strong abyssals?” I asked.

“Just one. He was loyal, dependable, and duty bound. Before his ailments drove him mad I’d have even called him a friend.” he said. His eyes were distant, remembering something from the past.

“I see. Would you tell me about it?”

“The man who trained me was an abyssal. Most abyssals could be called lazy, unmotivated, but he was different. His ambition to reach the heights of physical strength was an unquenchable thirst. He was the one who gave me the buckler on my arm, and the shortsword at my belt. Nothing I’m teaching this Canary here is my own. They are ideas which belong to him.” Kirill sighed. “He is gone now. Released from his curse, he floats about the winds as ash, maybe one day hoping for the winds of fate to birth him again.” Kirill said.

“That is sad. I have never heard of abyssals dying. Canary seems to have survived quite the injury.” I recalled. In my memory, Maria had tried to kill him. He suffered greatly in some way before we arrived at the capital, and Kirill nailed him in the chest with a crossbow. He was still as healthy as ever.

“The enemy we face, the girl in the white dress, has flames which burn hotter than the sun. Not even the most resilient of defenses would stand in the way of her power.” he said. “The tools of the powerless still block her path, from time to time.”

Delanor waved her arm and kicked lightly at the side of her horse. It slowed down and soon we were riding directly beside her, shoulder to shoulder. “I believe we’re being followed.” she said. As I turned around to look behind us, she grabbed my arm. “No use in looking now. It’s that sarassin, the one in the grey hood at the settlement. For some reason, it appears my uncle sent someone to tail us.”

“We’ve been traveling for hours. How is it that it continues to follow?” I asked.

“Sarassin can run for hours. Their legs are built for long distance travel, and they can travel on all fours naturally. Even if we were moving at a light gallop, I don’t doubt it would have any trouble keeping up. For now we’ll keep going towards the Great Tree. I just wanted to let you know.”

—

Our new night camp was a comfortable upgrade to the rolled mats we had slept on after abandoning our wagon. Delanor’s uncle had prepared enough cotton sheets for two improvised tents. The captain was an expert at assembling new things from spare items. She and Canary went to work, tying and stretching the sheets to form a shelter. After gathering enough firewood, we had the opportunity to spread some of the butter the captain had stashed away for herself on the bread included in Wolgun’s rations. She showcased considerable resistance, but after Maria stuck her hand in the captain’s jacket and encased the captain’s body up to the waist in ice, there was little left for the captain to do but relinquish her prized possession.

The melted butter glistened on the surface of the bread. I felt a pinch of guilt eating something my companion had taken such great care to save, but it was washed away by the satisfaction of its fatty texture on my tongue.

“Sorry about this.” Canary spoke as he chewed.

“I’m not upset.” the captain said. Her forced smile was a clear reflection of how she felt. “Buy me some if we see any at the next town over.”

“Sure thing.”

Maria motioned to Delanor, who had taken out a pair of reading lenses and was carefully perusing a bundle of papers. She licked her thumb and turned over page after page of documentation. She paid Maria no attention.

“Delanor,” Maria called out.

“Hm?”

“We traveled all day today, and your uncle’s home is two days from the Great Tree. At this rate, we should arrive tomorrow night, no?” Maria asked.

“That is correct.” Delanor answered.

“I feel that these lands have people much more close together than back home. I scarcely remember an instance where travel did not take at least a week.” Maria remarked. She was right. It had taken us weeks to reach the captain’s village from mine, and several more weeks to reach the capital. Compared to that, two days’ travel seemed like hardly a journey.

“It is true. Northern Sveshen territories are sparse of people, as food is slow to cultivate and the terrain can be tumultuous to cross. Travel in a cold area, where maintenance of vehicles and animals is an issue, as well as physical exhaustion which accompanies long periods of travel through snow, slows your progress. I would estimate that we made two or three times the distance in one day compared to traveling there. The days are shorter, and so as travel in the night is treacherous, winter journeys stall further.” Delanor spouted off a list of reasons. It was more than I had wanted to hear, and likely more than Maria was interested in.

“Fascinating.” Maria said with a hint of sarcasm.

“I like it this way.” I said. “No one likes sitting in a wagon. Keeping the horses running tires me out too.”

“That is quite the ability, Anastasia.” Delanor said. “You should be proud of it. I’ve hardly heard of any ribbon users. Especially self-taught users unassociated with the Academy.”

“Thank you.”