Glade's Edge: Part III - Swords of St Valentine
“Some time ago in a place very far from here, there was a man who could change into beasts. Never saw him switch forms but I eventually sensed that the man in the woods was also the animals we had seen. They always had blue eyes and black fur or feathers even when those colors were uncommon for the creature.
I was little then living in the foothills of the Whitespears. The only things that watched over me were the silent sentinel pines . . . Always green, always alive, always awake and watching. So too did the cold unyielding mountains, the quick fleeting wind and the careless open sky. They watched but did not interfere. Good or bad they just watched.” As Eloise spoke the glade’s night cover hid the turmoil woven among her shifting expressions.
She continued under the twilight’s masking grace, “My father passed when my memories were still setting. I can never recall his face, just his smell and his shadow. My mother never abandoned us. But she was more trouble than the flock. She'd make us build fences that we would leave for better pasture before we ever finished. She blamed our father for not showing us how to be proper shepherdesses. He was to blame for any misfortune even though he was long passed. We survived by trading sheep's wool and sometimes selling off our flock. We sold many over the years and soon only had enough to count on one hand.
But we did have a watcher, a blessed guardian. I hoped at first it was my father's spirit watching over us, but it was the man who could change into beasts. When we spotted him in his many forms, he would stand at the edge of the forest as dusk fell. Ilsis and I called him Dusk’s Shadow.
At least he seemed a guardian, but now here I am being led to the slaughter. A sheep for my innocence. Sent from the very guardian himself.”
Rhainyr was quiet. He waited for her to make her point with patience as the moon began to sink towards the coming morning. They had stopped walking. Eloise was consumed in telling her story. She spoke as if these were her last pleas before a death sentence.
“The man in the woods was not a man. He later said to me, he was a traveller from another realm, not of this world. I know this tale is madness, jumbled in the telling. While expressing the most important bits, my ear responds saying they all lack sense without the connecting details or the frame of time. I’m no bard, my talents end with songs.”
Rhainyr encouraged her to continue with his unbroken attention.
“I first spotted him as a black wolf. He frightened the sheep. He frightened all of us. Ilsis, my sister, went missing one day. She often went off to play on her own. I found her with a broken leg already splinted. She said the wolfman took care of her. From then on I tried to make contact with the wolfman. He drove away great hungry beasts. The kinds who eat men without fear. Ilsis said he would only appear if we were in trouble.
One day I jumped into an icy river to see if he would save me. If he didn't then at least my aimless life would be over and my mother would still have Ilsis. He did save me in the form of a giant black bear. It's diamond blue eyes gave him away. I told him why I did what I did and that I knew who he was. He in return made me promise never do so again. If I ever . . . tried again, he would not help me.
He resolved to give me purpose. He taught Ilsis and I the art of kulning, of singing to animals. I grew to love him over the years and I hoped he loved me too. When I became old enough to be called a woman he said he was leaving. I confessed my love. He said to me he did not belong in this world nor me in his. But he offered me a prophecy. ‘You will find one who is like me. He will protect you like I have, but you must never betray his trust or abandon him.’
With great sadness I watched him leave. During this time of grief a man did come. He offered me protection. He loved the songs me and my sister sang. He offered my mother payment if she agreed to let us travel with him. She took the offer happily. It was enough for her to get a small plot of land and a house to grow old in. My sister and I were happy to start a new life and see the world. He treated us well. He let us know we were special. He told us we did have a great purpose. Many inns and crossroads we sang with him, a bard of great repute. We had a comfortable existence. He hid the evils of the world from me, but Ilsis . . . She wouldn't stand for anything remaining hidden. I trusted the bard as the man in the woods told me to.
The bard soon told us we would usher in a new world to Aerlon. One of paradise. But this paradise couldn't be made without sacrifice. We could use our gifts to bring about the change in one last performance . . . before we would be the lambs. And with my unwavering trust we followed.
It wasn't until seeing you and your resemblance to the man in the woods that I questioned whether the bard was truly my protector in this prophecy. Maybe I had put my trust in the wrong man.” Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.
“So I have to know . . . If after telling you this story if you are that man? Were you sent by Dusk’s Shadow? Am I as hopelessly naive as you…” The words trailed off. Her lips quivered as she tried to fend off her tears.
Say something so I may have peace. I cannot bear this limbo anymore.”
After a burdensome silence, Rhainyr gave his reply, “If this bard’s name is Vaerjio then I must assist you. The one who calls himself the Bard of the Twelve Kingdoms. But I can only help if you swear not to reveal our intentions.”
Eloise's story was heartbreaking, but for more interesting is what was not said... What brought her to the clearing in the first place? What happened to the final performance? The way she stopped short is absolutely tantalizing!
I love how you attribute so much power to song. Singing to animals, a song that will usher in paradise (how mysterious), a bard of repute seeking to change the world...
Lovely writing! I'm waiting with baited breath for chapter 4.
I had intended to make the time frame of her last performance more apparent. Should this get reworked I'll add that her last performance is happening the following day. The story still works as is, but you reminded me of something I missed.
Oh I don't think that's necessarily something you missed, you can always contextulize it later with the performance itself.