Spin Offs, Othi Part b
By birth right, Othi should have been raised and educated in the courts of Elquin, given her bloodlines and appearance. Though, her mother had fled from their country of birth, fearing how her daughter would be treated. She knew that if she did not leave with her child, Othi would be taken from her, forced to marry into one of the noble bloodlines when she came of age. Mother had been a commoner, though unknowingly of a well blooded linage and her father had been a lord or knight with ancestral lines to the elves going back many thousands of years. Or so her mother had claimed.
Othi was old enough when they had arrived here that she had clear memories of meeting the old hedge witch, with all her chickens and dogs. Her memories before that day were only of travel, shifting landscapes and hunger. The village had been little more than a camp back then. Just a couple longhouses made from logs and canvas with a few outbuildings. The hedge witch was the closest thing the foresters had to a healer, though they feared her. When they had arrived, Othi’s mother had been sick for some time. The witch had been unable to cure her, but had kept her alive for another three years.
Othi had learned to read from the witch, not the language she had brought with her from Elquin, but in the language of the first people. She also learned the arcane symbols of those people, their magic rituals and many stories from those ancient times. There were not many travellers during the early years she had lived here, though often enough, if they came it was to seek the witch’s knowledge. Some of them stayed for years. She learned of the broader world, heard stories of her homeland and practised the diverse methods of magic that these people had been trained in.
The witch had primarily been adapt in healing magic, though her knowledge of the arcane was broad. Othi learned these arts, discovering that her talent within the arcane disciplines had been in other areas, plant magic and dreaming were much easier for her than other forms. The old hag had also passed on her knowledge of plants, bone setting, disease treatment and much more practical and mundane lore. Combined with the knowledge brought by the various seekers, both previous to and after the old woman had died, Othi had a very eclectic education. Though she often wondered what sort of education would have been provided to her within the courts of Elquin or what she might have learned in a place like GreensBridge.
Othi had been in her mid-twenties when the witch had died. The evening before, Othi had sat with the woman after feeding her broth and bread, they drank some tea and had mostly talked of simple things. Outside an autumn snowstorm was starting, yet they remained snug and warm within the old sodi. Before falling asleep her mentor had given her some advice, and perhaps a foretelling.
“My time is nearly done girl. I leave you with my legacy, my knowledge and this old house. I’d encourage you to stay for a time, be what I was to these hardy foresters and their kin. Help them to thrive, protect them as you can. Many will come over the years, seeking you, though they may have thought it was I that they would find. Learn what you can and teach those who would learn.
“A time will come, after the birthing of the next generation, where you will find another path to walk. On the cusp of a new age you will bring forth a generation of ancient bloodlines. Teach to them all that I have taught you, so the knowledge will not be lost.” The old woman had slept after that, while Othi had stayed awake wondering what she had meant. The storm continued well into the next day, Othi had fallen asleep as the darkness of night was receding.
When she woke the old woman was gone, her tracks had been long buried in the snow. Even after the spring thaw had come, no one had found her body.
—
It turned out to be a pleasantly warm evening with a crystal clear sky above, neither moon had risen and a slight breeze blew from the southwest. The stars spiralled above, the triskelion pattern boldly apparent, the three rivers of the night. Othi knew the names the first folk had given those spirals, the names of the three goddesses of the first people. If she listened carefully she could hear the not so distant East Sister, just a yat or so through the trees from her casting circle.
Othi sat in the centre of the circle, facing the thirteenth marker, aligned to the north. Behind her, sitting silently, Alna watched from the other side of the circle’s edge, centred between the fifth and sixth posts. Othi breathed slowly, deeply, sitting cross-legged, her back straight. She had laid out the elements before her, drawn on the subtle energies from around her, from the crystal and the stone, from the symbols of power, then from the charms, lastly a small bit from Alna. She drank the cumiquin, bitter and strong, of an amount that could kill a large man. She had never before held so much power, she felt larger than the sky. Then she finished her casting and released all that accumulated energy into her spell.
Ever so quietly she sank deep within herself, until the whirling patterns and exploding prisms behind her eyelids drifted into the between. She found herself floating above the barrier, below she could clearly see an overgrown hall, courtyard and barn. She passed through the barrier like honey slowly dripping from a spoon and she slipped into the dreams of a man.
Othi found herself wandering through the hills a few yat north of home, or so it seemed, but the landscape was different than she remembered. A brook ran through a shallow gully towards the nearby cliff, she turned and began following the stream back to its source. It was not long before she came to a grotto with numerous little waterfalls trickling down many grooved stone facings, below which was a large pool. A man lazed on a large stone near the pools edge, an arm dangled in the water, another reached up and plucked a stem of grass from between his teeth. To Othi he briefly appeared indistinct, until he sat up and turned to face her, the man seemed more present and she could see in his eyes the awareness of the dreamer. “You’re not from around here.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Do you know where I am?”
“I believe I do, yes.”
“You are a dreamer?”
“I am.”
“Oh.” He turned away and picked up a nearby fishing rod. He baited the hook then dropped the line into the pool, the bob slowly began to floated towards the runoff gully. She saw a tangle of brush and sticks had created a bit of a damn, slowing the runoff significantly.
“May I come closer?” Othi asked.
“I’m not sure. It has been a very long while since I’ve had more than my own memories.”
“Two or three hundred years, I think.”
“A lifetime.”
“For some.”
“For you and I.”
“True.”
The fishing rod vanished and the man sat on the edge of the rock, facing her. “Alright, approach.”
She did so, walking through his dream world. “I seek entrance to your hall. A powerful barrier befuddles all who would do so.”
Still sitting, he raised his hands towards her, “What made you attempt to reach me?”
Othi thought about her answer before replying, then took his hands in hers, “Likely pride. Maybe love.”
He regarded her carefully, his eyes golden and brown. He asked, “Can you awaken me?”
“I believe I could, if I was near enough to your physical body.”
She noticed a brief glimmer of hope in his eyes, then he stood up, releasing her hands. He went back and picked up his fishing rod and once again baited the hook and cast the line into the pool. She sat on the edge of the rock where he had previously been, she waited.
He fished, the afternoon passed, Masri peeked above the horizon, a small green crescent. Orange tinted clouds hung in the western sky. He joined her at the edge of the rock, sitting beside her, “I would invite you to my hall, come to me and we shall share guest rites.”
“What of the barrier?”
“You have been invited.”
“Then I will go to you.”
He nodded and the dream drifted away, Othi fell to darkness and knew not where she was.
—
When Othi woke, Alnavien’s face hovered above her and she gave a gasp. Alna’s brow was creased with concern and anger, she shook he head, “I thought you were never going to come back.”
Othi felt crusty and gummy at the same time, not just around her eyes, which was truly the case, but more in a general sense. Worn thin and very thirsty. Her body ached and there must have been a dwarf hammering on the insides of her head. Alna reached a hand under her back and supported her into a near sitting position and then held a cup to her lips.
After a couple of sputtered gulps of water, Othi croaked, “How long?”
Alna had to think about it a moment, then said, “Thirteen days.”
“I need to go to the hall.”
“You’re going nowhere, you need to eat a bit, walk around if you can and stay hydrated. Just like you told me.” She was obviously tired and wrought with concern.
Othi sighed, “You are right.”
“I’ll get you a bit of something, though mostly broth, like you said.”
“How’s the baby?”
“What?”
“The baby?”
“She’s fine. Thern is with her. You just worry about you.”
It took nearly two days before Othi could get up by herself and hobble around the house. It was another three days after that before she was able to walk around the yard and do light chores and she was rarely left alone. If she was not sleeping either Thern or Alna were nearby, often enough both of them. Even the dogs were babying her, one or more usually resting with her or keeping an ear out nearby. She so very much wanted to go to the Rover Hall, to see if she could reach the man within. Alna would have none of it though, not until another three days had passed and Othi was no longer winded by simple tasks.
Even then, on the ninth morning since she had woken up, Alna was not going to let her go alone. In fact Alnavien had dug out her armour and her sword and packed a satchel full of potentially needful things. They had taken it slow and walked up towards the barrier at a leisurely pace. Alnavien complained that her armour had shrunk a bit during storage, Othi did not point out that she was still carrying extra fat from bringing a child into the world, nor the even more obvious fact that she was still lactating.
“Must have been the fairies.”
For the first time in over three decades of trying to find a way through the tangled growth, Othi could see a clear path running through the trees. Alna was nervous and kept a hand near the pommel of her sword. Through the trees Othi and her friend came up to an earthen wall and climbed to the top, much of it was overgrown as was the yard beyond, the barn was near collapsed and yet the hall remained undamaged.
At the south end of the hall they came to a doorway, the first step broke under Alnavien, “Ow! Goddess’ pickle. I should have brought my helmet.”
Othi helped her out of the broken stairs, “You alright?”
“Of course I am. Stop mothering me.”
Othi smiled, “Here, let me try something.”
She knocked on the door and clearly said, “My name is Othi, of elvish bloodlines. I was invited.”
After a moment the doors swung inwards, absent of swirling dust or strange smells. “Alna, give me a hand up, I think I see someone laying on the floor.”
Leave a Reply