Morning light shone through Nyssa’s bedroom window, illuminating the nearly-full canvas backpack propped up against the pillows on her bed.
She opened the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and lifted out a sheathed knife, fastening the scabbard to her belt. Peering further into the chest, she wondered if she should take any of her more formal-looking clothes with her. She had no idea how the elves of the inner forest dressed, these days. She supposed she could ask Kellam, but then decided she didn’t care. They would have to take her as she was.
For a moment one hand did reach down to stroke a dark green velvet dress in the chest, but velvet was heavy and it made no sense to carry a full-length gown for days through the woods when she didn’t even know if she would actually wear it. Instead she selected a pair of black linen breeches and two silk shirts to fit into the top of her pack. She hoped those would be suitable for most occasions. Allowing herself a moment of nostalgia, she let her fingertips caress the lush material of the dress one last time, before lowering the lid of the chest again.
Opening the bedroom door quietly, she carried her boots as well as her backpack, to avoid making noise. She tiptoed past the sleeping form of Kellam, reclined in his chair in front of the fire, his feet resting on the little round table. She risked a glance at him, then shook her head with a wry smile tugging at her lips. There were many people in the village who would enjoy this sight, she knew. He had taken off his leather jacket during the night, and also his shirt, and bundled them to use as a pillow against the high wooden back of the chair. So now the sunlight was giving a golden glow to the sculpted muscles of his shoulders and bare chest.
Her smile faltered for a moment when she realised that, knowing Kellam, many people in the village probably had enjoyed this sight. But then again, Nyssa doubted they knew that the amulet rising and falling on that chest had once been hers. Seeing it again brought back the memory. Especially since she was about to do the same as on the night she’d last seen that amulet. She was leaving.
When she reached the kitchen she ducked into the pantry, filling a small sack with food, and collected her satchel of medical equipment. She carefully opened the outside door and slipped through, easing it shut behind her, then stepped into her boots and shouldered her backpack. She deliberately didn’t leave a note for Kellam, mainly due to her resentment at having been herded in a direction she didn’t want to take. Besides, she was fairly certain he would catch up with her.
Outside, much of the village was already stirring, and Nyssa strode away from her home without looking back. She made her way to the Coopers’ house first, and knocked on the door. Bennit’s mother Selina opened it.
”Morning, Selina," Nyssa said. “I’ve come to thank you for the wine, and to see how Bennit fared, overnight?”
“He’s right as rain. Not even a nightmare. I think it helped him to see Kellam just being so matter-of-fact about dealing with that last goblin.”
“It helped us all to see Kellam,” came another woman’s voice from within the cottage, followed by peals of laughter. Selina gestured for Nyssa to follow her inside.
“Hello ladies,” Nyssa greeted the several women sitting in the parlour. “I thought the sewing circle was yesterday, not today?”
“We had a lot of distractions and interruptions yesterday, so we thought we’d have another session today,” their leader Taris answered.
“More like we wanted a good old gossip about the distractions and interruptions yesterday,” her sister Carith added, to more laughter.
“Speaking of which — the ranger found his way to your place alright in the end, did he?" Taris’s arch tone made Nyssa grit her teeth at the disadvantages of living in such a small village.
“He did.”
“And I’ll bet you didn’t do anything except enjoy his conversation.”
“Correct.” A collective murmur of disappointment and disapproval rose from the gathering of women, their shared glances mixing speculation and mischief.
"You should take pity on the poor old thing," one woman suggested, her fingers pausing mid-stitch. "The way he pines after you is a tragedy."
“A waste,” chimed in another neighbour.
Nyssa attempted to turn her gritted teeth into more of a smile. “Kellam Ilithiryin has had half the people in this village. And their parents before them. And their parents - although I’ll admit that was when they were younger. Most of them, anyway. Probably.”
More than one woman was blushing, she noted.
“So I think we all know he’s not going to waste. And anyway, he’s such a pretty elf it would be selfish of anyone to permanently deprive the village of that kind of… resource.” Nyssa continued.
“She has a point.” Carith said. “And he’s not exactly marriage material, is he? Not the way he comes and goes.”
“Literally,” another woman muttered, and the room exploded into laughter again. Nyssa hoped little Bennit wasn’t within earshot, with the direction this conversation seemed to be heading.
“No, what I mean is that he’s an elf.” Carith persevered. “If he goes away for ten years that’s probably like the blink of an eye to him. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to get involved with one of us for long, if we age so quickly compared to him. But there’s nothing to stop him getting involved with you, Nyssa.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“I refer you to my previous answer,” Nyssa said in a mild tone, looking down for the bag of food she had brought from home.
Taris seemed to sense that they would get nothing of further interest on this topic from her, so moved the conversation back to the point they’d been discussing before Nyssa arrived. “Anyway. I was saying that the ranger brought grim tidings yesterday, after he killed that last little devil. He was telling us about that Aelinor place.”
Nyssa’s eyebrows rose, and she stopped halfway through opening the bag she had placed on the table. She had never heard an elf openly speaking of Aelinor to a human. She doubted that even Kellam — not known for following rules or conventions — would normally speak of it. “What did he tell you about it?” she asked.
The teasing and laughter that had filled Selina’s parlour only moments ago, now vanished. Nyssa felt the weight of the women’s collective gaze settle on her again.
Selina answered her. “That it’s a sacred place for the elves. That our forest itself is special because of it being there. But now the forest has a blight spreading through it.” Sounds of interest came from several of the people in the room. This was more new information about the elf realm than most would expect to hear in a decade. Maybe a lifetime. Even living so close to the border, they rarely had direct dealings with any of the elves they saw, except for Kellam and the few other forest wardens.
“I always wondered what all those elves were doing, traipsing up and down the road into the forest,” someone said. “I thought they must be trading with the ones inside the border—"
“The name Pilgrims’ Path didn’t give you a clue, then?” another woman asked her.
“He said the blight could sicken the very heart of the forest,” Taris interrupted them. “So the council in this Aelinor have summoned you to see if you can help. Because if the blight spreads all the way to them…” She let the sentence hang, somehow making it sound like an accusation.
“He did sound very worried.” Carith added. “Not just for the elven side of the border, but ours as well. Won’t you at least go and find out what they want?” she asked. “The elves have done nothing bad to us in centuries, so it doesn’t seem right to just leave them to face danger if we might be able to help them. And if anyone can help, surely it’s you — seeing as you’ve got ties to both sides of the border, as it were.”
A chorus of agreement followed.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Nyssa replied. “Not the least of it is that I’m only half-elf. That makes a big difference to most of them. They wouldn’t even let me through the door of the place last time I was there.”
“...And the thing I don’t understand,” she continued, “is that they’ve already got healers and herbalists. As far as I've heard, most of the elves there have studied some form of healing or other. So why do they need me? Compared with here, where I’m the only healer—”
“Oh please," Taris said, cutting her off. "We may live like simple folk, but we're not completely without wit. We can manage to look after ourselves for a few weeks. And should worse come to pass, we can always flee.”
Nyssa sighed, then nodded slowly. “Make sure you are ready, then,” she warned. “If the border does fail, this village will be the first place to be overrun by whatever comes through.” Gasps came from one or two of the women who were only now beginning to understand the severity of the threat.
"Whatever comes, we'll face it together," Taris assured her, casting a flinty gaze around the room. "We always have." Her words were met with nods of agreement and resolve. As they turned back to their needles and threads and knitting, Nyssa’s throat felt tight as she looked around her, at the fierce no-nonsense solidarity of these women. As though together they could repair a tear in the border as easily as they could mend the garments they held. She might never be one of them, but in a way that made it easier to appreciate them.
She swallowed hard, then brought out the various jars and wrapped packets that she had carried here from her home. “Well, if I do go, I don’t know how long I’ll be away for,” she admitted. “I’ve brought some food from my pantry that’s either too heavy to carry a long way, or that might spoil before I get back. I’d rather it went into your bellies than went to waste. Help yourselves,” she said, but made sure she put a jar of honey directly into Selina’s hands first, before anyone else could claim it.
Selina gave her a shy nod of thanks. "Seems you're planning a grand journey, not just a brief trip," she noted, eyeing the remaining pile of provisions with concern. Then she seemed to have an idea. “Can’t we make it a trade, instead? I’m sure I’ve got some food that will be good for travelling.” Other voices agreed, making offers of what they could give her.
“Only if you’re able to fetch them straight away,” Nyssa said. “I’m hoping to set off very soon.”
Several women put their work aside and rushed to their homes nearby. In the momentary calm that followed, Taris gave Nyssa a shrewd look.
“So. You’d already made your mind up before you came here,” she said, her usual sharp tone replaced by something fractionally softer. “And since when does honey go off?”
Before Nyssa could reply, a stream of breathless women bustled back into Selina’s cottage, bringing with them nuts, waybread, dried meats and fruits. Suddenly the sewing circle transformed into an impromptu farewell gathering, with advice from both sides about how to cope over the following weeks or seasons. Laughter was threaded through much of the advice, but so were warnings of potential dangers and hasty escapes.
When the last woman returned, Nyssa felt her throat tighten again — especially when she saw the food that now lay on the table. “Hold a minute, how have I ended up with more provisions than I started with? That’s not how giving things away usually works.”
“Maybe you should have tried it with coins, instead,” someone said, as Nyssa packed the food into the side pouches of her pack. Everyone laughed, but quieted again when the healer picked up her backpack.
“Thank you all,” she said simply. “Oh, and if Kellam comes by, tell him I’ve listened to your advice and gone to offer my help to the poor elves.” She raised a hand to give an awkward half-wave. She preferred sneaking off alone to making official goodbyes. “Look after each other till I get back.” She headed for the door, with Selina following.
Outside, Nyssa put on her travelling cloak. Once her backpack was on and the leather herb-bag of her trade was secured snug against her side, she was ready to go. She looked back at the cottage and saw that Taris was standing behind Selina, arms folded and a scowl on her face. “You show those stuck-up elf lords what you’re made of,” the older woman commanded, then went back inside.
Selina smiled. “I think that was Taris’s version of giving you a hug,” she said.
Nyssa grinned back. “I’ll treasure that moment.” Then, “Thanks Selina. Say goodbye to little Bennit for me.”
Then before she could think of all the reasons not to do it, she set her feet on the Pilgrims’ Path, deliberately opening herself to the queasy push-and-pull feeling that Aelinor always gave her.
Thanks for reading! Here's your chance to give some quick feedback about the chapter. What did you think?
