Lorni picked his way through the underbrush lining the old Elk path. Not far behind him, Able kept his senses sharp. They weren't the only scouts moving ahead of the caravan, several other First Forker volunteers had been paired off with the outsiders.
The air had begun growing unseasonably warm the closer they approached First Fork. The Antler, visible through the forest, was the only true sign that they were on course. The summer snow had completely vanished, taking the familiar landscape and transforming it into a verdant foreign mess of life that left Lorni confused.
He would be more concerned, had he not felt welcomed by this new forest. The deep shadows hidden by the ancient growth had gone, replaced by sun-dappled foliage. Where there was once silence, now it was as though the land itself celebrated. Red-tailed squirrels chittered, flinging themselves from branch to branch as if to accompany the pair, while birdsong filtered through the new growth.
It was as if the land itself recognized him. He'd prayed before the Heart tree and felt something like that a few times, but this… Every step was sure, as if he'd already known where rocks and roots and divots in the dirt lay. When he stood still, the earth hummed through the soles of his soft boots, but he wasn't frightened by it. It reminded him of how his ma would hum while they huddled together during snowstorms.
Able tripped on a small root he'd somehow missed, cursing. Lorni caught him, giving the taller man a brush across the shoulders. "Woah there!"
"Has First Fork always been like this?" Able asked as they continued, carefully picking his way down the path.
"Nope." Across the river, Lorni could see familiar snow-blanketed forest, a stark contrast to the localized summer. "Dunno why its so hot, either." Spying the ancient and gnarled Weirwood that marked where the Sprig River emptied into the Antler, he pointed it out to his companion. "We'll be at First Fork within the hour."
"Great," Able replied happily. "We'll have real food and warm beds tonight." Wiping sweat from his brow, "Beds, anyway. Could skip the warm."
Lorni grunted an acknowledgement. He wasn't blind, and he'd watched the otherwise sure-footed fellow start having trouble back where the snow had been melting. It was odd, and if he had to guess, it might have something to do with the way he was being guided. The more they walked, the more certain he was. Was this a woods-witch thing? He'd ask Ellir, she was a wise woman and dealt with the Gods, so she'd likely know something. Then again, she'd tell him it in a way he'd have to puzzle through…
Able tripped again, and again Lorni caught him. "Thanks," the outsider muttered, kicking the root that his foot caught on.
"Wonder why the land doesn't like you." Lorni said. "You hurt a weirwood lately?"
Shaking his head, "I've always tried to be respectful to the Gods. It never hurts to keep yourself covered. Whatever this is, it feels different." He blinked, shaking his head. "Right, and I can feel it." He shuddered, falling silent, clearly perplexed.
Lorni could admit to himself that some of Maia's long words could be fun to think and say, not that he'd let anyone else know that.
"I feel it too," Lorni offered in sympathy. "Though, I think the land likes me. It recognizes me, it seems."
"Lived here long?" Able asked, studying Lorni's eyes in a discomfortingly sharp way.
"Born under the Heart tree," Lorni nodded, breaking away from Able's gaze to keep moving.
"It doesn't bother you?" The man's voice was thin, "All of this, and what else everyone says of your wise woman?"
Shrugging, Lorni sighed. "It does. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down over mist and not knowing if there's anywhere safe to drop. It helps knowing that most of us feel that way. Even if the changes stopped, I don't think what's done can be undone. So, take things as they are, one step at a time. That's how we've learned to handle it." Smirking, "Just wait till you live through a moonturn in an hour. That's about the worst thing, but it's not that bad once it's done."
The other man's reply was interrupted by a branch slipping from his grasp and thwacking him across the chest. He wheezed, stumbling past, and Lorni let him catch his breath.
Once recovered, Able gave him a thankful nod and they continued walking.
Not too long after, Lorni's roving eyes noticed a splash of red and white against the greenery, up ahead and toward the river. As they drew closer, he saw it was the young weirwood that had taken root on a low outcropping. The tree had been carved, recently enough that the carving was barely barked over.
"Someone's carved a tree?" Lorni wondered aloud, noting a considerate noise from Able.
"I'd like to check it," The outsider explained, gingerly moving through the underbrush to get closer to the weirwood.
Lorni followed, perplexed to see one side of the tree had been painstakingly carved into the visage of a woman with a proud stature and a gentle smile on her face.
"An Ancestor-tree…" Able murmured, kneeling before it. He slipped off his pack, rifling around until he brought out a small clay dish a thumb's length wide. He produced a small bundle of long overly-fragrant twigs, carefully taking one and placing it in a small hole bored off to the side of the dish.
"What are you doing?" Lorni asked, unintentionally looming behind the man.
"Something a wise woman taught me once, when in unfamiliar lands, always make peace with those who live within." He nodded to the tree, "It's a ritual that's never hurt to do before. And," he said with a small smile, "I think this is a way of showing respect before the Gods."
With a small striking steel and piece of flint, he carefully lit the end of the twig. Setting the tools aside as a stream of thin smoke wafted up, Able took out an uncommonly small blade. It looked to be carved bone to Lorni, inscribed with intricate runes and sigils, crossing over each other.
He watched as Able pricked the tip of his thumb with the point of the blade, waiting for a droplet of blood to build. "I come here in peace, I swear on my blood." Smearing a swipe across an exposed root, "I will bring no harm on those you watch. I will aid where I can," Another swipe, crossing the first. "And I will leave in peace. I claim guest-right among you." He pressed his thumb down in the crook between the swipes, leaving a clear print.
He sat back, kneeling quietly and watching the stream of smoke. Lorni, curious, sat next to him.
A breeze rippled through the forest, sending the leaves of the weirwood fluttering, the sound like a thousand whispering voices at the edge of hearing. The smoke curled, twisting in the air, and Lorni found himself compelled to speak.
"I, ah, I do not know who this man is, or if he is who he says he is…" Able looked at him with confusion, and Lorni could only offer a shrug. "He's the type who listens before talking, and he's got some good stories."
The eyes of the woman seemed to stare through him, dappled shadows dancing across her form, and for just a moment Lorni could see the flesh and fabric the carving only suggested.
Out in the forest, a hare screeched. For a moment the birdsong quieted, before returning louder than before, as if annoyed at the interruption.
Wetting his lips, Lorni continued, "I don't think he's one to break his Oath. Not, not an Oath like that."
The wind rustled more strongly, sending the shadows flickering madly. The woman seemed to nod through the haze of smoke lingering in front of her, and Lorni shivered as cold prickles broke out over his skin.
Then, it was over, and Lorni saw only the carving of a woman, set within the pale bark of a weirwood. Able shakily stood, leaving the snuffed twig and dish.
"We should keep moving," Lorni offered, receiving a nod.
They returned to the path, continuing in silence. Lorni understood, there wasn't really much to say after a man sees something that shouldn't be. He remembered how it had taken him hours to start feeling anything other than that awful hollow feeling after Maia had shredded that ancient Sentinel.
"It gets easier," Lorni offered after a while. "It's still terrifying, but once you've seen someone wave at an old tree," He pointed at a similar conifer, easily four paces around at the base, "Like that one, and it just lifts out of the ground and…" He remembered the awful prickling he felt then, too, like he'd stumbled into a swarm of biting gnats. "It gets easier." He finished, lamely.
"I'll try to remember that," Able gratefully replied.
It wasn't long after that Able paused mid-step, cocking his head. "How close are we to First Fork?"
"Fairly close," Lorni replied, "I think. I'm not used to all this green."
"Ah." Able cupped his hands to his mouth, "Hullo, whoever has us surrounded! We're part of Chief Teagj's party!"
Out of the undergrowth, three people stepped out to meet them. They each wore similar clothing, well-fitted buttoned jackets and belted trousers, linen dappled a dark grey-green color. Subdued enough that Lorni had missed them, and even now he was having difficulty picking out the others standing around them. Another six, maybe seven?
"Lorni, that you?" The central figure, and it took Lorni a second to place Wyck's voice to that well-trimmed face.
"You cut your hair?" Lorni asked him, "Damn, you were prettier with it."
Wyck groaned, "Don't even start. You're with Teagj? Where is he?"
Able pointed back up the path, "He's back upriver with the rest. There's, oh, around five hundred people coming to First Fork."
Wyck stared at him with wide eyes, then at Lorni, who nodded. "Fuck me," He groaned again, "We've only just got our feet under us and now we have to do the whole 'lets get along' thing again?" He pulled a large square off the side of his pack with a tearing sound, holding it before him and poking at it. "You said five hundred?" Wyck asked Able.
"Around that, probably more." The man shrugged, "Mostly you Antlermen, some Hornfoots and a few Nightrunners."
"Alright," The man said, tapping away for a moment, then slapping the square back onto his pack. To Lorni's amazement, it stayed steady, despite how easily Wyck had ripped it free. "So, can you guys lead us there? Best to bring them in gentle."
Lorni frowned, "Yeah, but what do you mean? What's with the outfits, anyway? And that thing you were poking at?"
Wyck chuckled mirthlessly, "A lot has happened while you were away. Here, I'll tell you all about it on the way." Seeming interested, Able motioned at Lorni, setting off back the way they came.
"See, a little while after you left, the Others came again…" Wick started, laying out a fantastic tale. How they'd worked together to keep the wights at bay, the way the Others had tried to steal the heat from their fires before Maia had distracted them; The rousing song that steeled their hearts and girded their loins as they watched the pale men ignore the enchanted arrows meant to slay them, how the rhythm kept each of them working in tandem to pin down the dead and cut them to pieces too small to keep moving.
"Her sword, you said it flashed and screamed when the Other's blade clashed with it?" Able asked intently after hearing that part of the story.
"Oh, yeah." Anfrei, a uniformed woman Lorni didn't know well, confirmed. "Wasn't her blade that screamed, it was the Other's. When they connected, everything went blue-white for a second, and the only thing we could hear was this shriek. Fucking spooky, I tell you."
On the trek back to the caravan, Lorni noticed two things he thought might be important. One, Able was very interested in Maia's sword, for some reason, and two, the man was no longer having any difficulty on the path. His trouble hadn't been feigned before, and Lorni suspected that ritual had something to do with the lack of branches striking Able.
Bei carefully made his way down the gangplank, putting his new walking stick to great use. He still felt weak as a day-old kitten, but he could stand well enough, and it would be a great slight against the Ninvay of the Vigilant Isles to remain aboard the Jin Su during their visit.
His feet settled on the long stone dock, humid sea breeze bringing the sounds of a bustling port to wash over him. He could see dozens of other vessels in the bay, ranging from unfamiliar small sleek triangular-sailed boats to a few wide and bluff-bowed ships with squared sails. The latter he recognized, if only by report, as Lengish merchant-ships. It was said that each was a village, and before the wars, those great vessels could be found in every port along the Dawn Coast.
All throughout the busy pier were barefoot leather-vested dockworkers, and mixed among them Bei could spot the dress of a dozen nations. High-collared northern tunics, Lengish cloaks embroidered with a dazzling array of colored thread, even modest light Carcosan tunics worn by the nobility could be found without much effort.
How is it we are taught the Vigilant Isles are a backwater? Bei thought, looking towards the city further ashore. Brightly painted tall wooden towers, layered almost haphazardly atop each other, climbed part of the slope leading to a tall peak. From windows and eaves hung bright fabrics, too far to spot minute details, but enough that the city seemed to ripple in the breeze, like tiny waves across a still pond.
"Bei?" Captain Heijo asked from beside him with concern.
"I'm alright, Captain." Lacking the energy for a false smile, he gave his friend a solemn nod. "I just need rest, that's all."
It wasn't long before a palanquin borne aloft by hairless bare-chested men approached them. Each man wore voluminous trousers, bound tightly only around the waist and ankles, such that the thin fabric hung freely. Each man wore an elaborate sash around the shoulder and across the torso, each unique. After they settled the palanquin to the ground, one of the men stepped towards them, uncertainly. His sash was richly embroidered with gold and crimson threads, a mark of a highly respected taskmaster.
"Excuse me," He said in heavily-accented Carcosan, his foreign tongue slowing the speech to near unrecognizability. "Do you know where the captain of this vessel may be found?"
Heijo nodded, extending a bare hand in greeting. "I am Captain Heijo, and this is the Jin Su."
The taskmaster looked at the bare hand, shocked. Hesitantly, he took it. "Loran Al Shou."
Bei extended his hand in greeting, wobbling on his walking stick, a little discomfited by the display of familiarity. "Liu Bei."
Loran took his hand with a firm shake. "You are, ah, second officer? I am a little like that, I think." Addressing Heijo with a slight straight-backed bow of the head, "The Ninvay will speak with you, both of you." Gesturing to the palanquin, "If you please."
Bei grinned, happy at the prospect of not having to walk uphill. "Sounds great." He clapped Heijo on the shoulder, the man following at Bei's pace.
"You are ill?" Loran asked from his other side, looking over Bei carefully. "Nothing that catches?"
Bei chuckled, "No, nothing catching."
Satisfied, Loran helped them into the palanquin, and a few moments later they were away.
Heijo looked out the window, concern only visible in the way he bounced his knee.
"What is it?" Bei asked him, "The Ninvay are well-known for being reasonable. I'm sure they'll help us."
"I think," Heijo said, "That they may not think we are reasonable. Carcosa has been at war for a hundred years, now."
Bei nodded, "That's true, but we aren't Carcosan anymore."
"Aren't we? We've brought a fleet of our most advanced warships to the Ninvay's harbor, and you saw how most of those vessels were fleeing. We have a reputation, Prince Bei, and it is not a good one."
Bei looked outside, watching the throngs part for their teamsters. Those who met his eyes looked away with such force that it seemed a hurled insult, placing hands before their eyes and turning to face anywhere else.
That hurt Bei in a way he couldn't figure out. He'd never had someone refuse to look at him like that before.
They were silent as the palanquin was carried up the slope, finally coming to rest before the peak of the city, a tall layered tower, each layer unique. The first, lowest to the ground, wore a twisted pattern of scarlet on a deep blue ground. The next seemed sectioned in quarters, alternating vivid red-swirled-white and blue-swirled-green, forming a larger pattern of multicolored vines throughout. Similar artistry continued, level after level, and it seemed to Bei as though this was too grand to be wrought be the hands of men.
Loran walked over, helped them down to the broad plaza, then guided them into the tower. The only people within seemed to be clerks of varying classes, some wearing elaborate veils over their faces, some with faces bare. They all wore similar utilitarian clothing, a thick linen that reminded Bei of what the southern Yi-Ti peasantry wore, though clearly finer make and quality.
They were led to a finely decorated office with a generous space for peculiar furniture, raised cushions resting on legs. Heijo sat on one without hesitation, sitting as straight and proper as an officer waiting for his father's attention. Bei sat, wondering at the softness of the cushions, seeming excessive comfort.
They only waited a few moments before a greying woman wearing a sheer face veil burst into the room without preamble. Her amber eyes studied the two of them, before she turned to the clerk following her and said something in a barbarous tongue. The man scuttled off as she took one of the stools by the desk in hand and sat, facing Bei and Heijo.
"Why has the Prince of Carcosa brought a war-fleet to our waters?" She asked Bei sharply, enunciating each word quite properly.
Bei looked at Heijo, confused, then back at the woman. "We are not a war-fleet, Lady…?"
The woman scoffed, "My name is Shan. Just, Shan. I look over the bay and I see five of your steel-hulled steam vessels. As we speak, merchants flee the trouble you people bring, taking with them months of delicate negotiations. Why are you here?"
Captain Heijo leaned forward, bowing respectfully to the woman. Bei was shocked, but followed suit.
"We do not fly the flags of war, and bear no ill will towards any who cross your waves, Shan." Heijo said, looking her square in the eyes. "We are rebels and renegades, fleeing our own nation."
Shan appeared clearly disbelieving. "And the same is recorded to be said fifty years ago, just before a Carcosan fleet razed the port of Lengzshi." Her expression remained hard as she addressed Bei, "You are fortunate, Prince Bei, that the good Captain's flag was recognized. Otherwise, you would never have been allowed to walk on our shores."
"Thank you," Heijo said respectfully. "The forbearance of the Ninvay is a generous gift. We seek only to provision ourselves before a peaceful departure."
"Departure where?" Shan asked, followed by, "And why come to the Vigilant Isles? You must have known you would not receive the warmest welcome."
Heijo glanced at Bei briefly, "We are heading east. Simply put, the domain of the Ninvay is the last place we know we can trade for the supplies we require."
Shan nodded thoughtfully. "Then what drives you? There is nothing past the Gap, and nothing that sails east returns."
"My sister," Bei said, ignoring the warning look Heijo gave him. "She fled eastward, somehow." He felt fragile, a little crack somewhere deep inside widening. "Since then, I've seen things. The future, maybe, but so much of it is nonsense to me." He clicked his teeth shut, feeling a fool.
Shan gave no outward sign of her inner thoughts, peering at Bei as if she could peel away his outer layers and see the wounds within. He shuddered, skin prickling.
It was a very familiar feeling.
"You're nǚláng zhīzhū," Bei blurted, face heating in shame, "I'm sorry! I did not mean to…" He trailed off as Shan laughed at him.
At him!
"You people have such complicated words. I am Ninvay, yes, but I am no spirit hiding my true nature." She chuckled, "There are many of us here, and we make no secret, not like you Carcosans." She mimed folding her arms, then stabbing with the right hand.
Heijo winced, "He didn't mean any offence, Shan. It's what he's been taught to call any foreign mage, Spinner or not."
Bei nodded apologetically, looking down at his folded hands, unable to meet those blazing amber eyes.
"I've taken no offense." She said lightly, "It is forgiven. Prince- No, I'm sorry, Bei, please tell me this. Has any of what you've seen come to pass?"
He looked up, hopeful. "Yes!" He nodded excitedly, "I had seen our fleet departing Carcosa without concern weeks before we made it happen. It was what prompted the idea in the first place."
Shan's eyes bored into his, hard and without mercy. "You are a fool, Bei. Prophecy is," she struggled for a moment, searching for the words, "It is a trap. Greater men than you have died seeking to bring what they thought they saw to pass, only for it to happen without their interference. Or, they seek to avoid something, only to make it happen themselves. So, Foolish Man, what vision is so grand as to provoke you to bring thousands of lives with you?"
Bei bristled, feeling more confused than affronted. Nobody had called him a fool- At least, not to his face. "I saw… I was with my sister, atop a tower of a height with the peak of this island, overlooking a city of the likes I've never seen before. How can I describe the majesty of it all? Ah, but it was an important event, I think." He closed his eyes, remembering. "A library! We were opening a library, where any with the means could come to learn."
"A school?" Shan suggested. "A library is, I think, a different thing."
Bei shrugged, "There were a lot of books, but there were rooms for schooling, I think."
Shan frowned. "So, that was it? You saw yourself with your sister, opening a public place?"
"Captain Heijo was there, as well." Bei supplied, "Which was why I approached him in the first place. So far, he's as dependable as his reputation says."
Heijo's eyes widened, surprised.
Shan's eye twitched, and she sighed loftily. "I have no idea what to make of that. It's quite unlike any vision I've heard of or experienced."
Heijo coughed into his hand, "Ah, we have material evidence that suggests there is a way to the other side of the Gap. We've studied the great current for a very long while now, and occasionally debris will be found that matches no vessels we know to sail these seas. However," He produced the odd trinket he carried with him, "I believe this to be an Ironborn totem of some sort. See, here, the squid is shaped with great care, and I've spoken with merchants who have sailed to the Narrow Sea and around the savage lands beyond. They corroborate that this is Ironborn, not some as-of-yet uncontacted people."
Shan took the little metal trinket, carefully examining it. "I've not seen the like of this in nearly a century," She said quietly.
"There's more," Heijo said, "We've found records of old expeditions, those trying to chart the currents, and in one scroll there is a description of a sea-battle involving what we now understand to be Ironborn longships, bearing similar sigils as found on that totem. We've made copies, and the Jin Su would be honored to share this knowledge with the Ninvay."
"Freely?" Shan inquired, clearly interested. "Very well, I suppose I could take a look."
To Bei's mind, the meeting concluded suddenly. There was no formal acknowledgement of those present, no clear dismissals. Only Shan rising, shortly followed by Heijo, signaled the end of it.
The clerk from earlier returned with a tray of refreshments. Bei quickly downed the clear glass of water offered him, following closely in the wake of the Captain and the Ninvay.
On the palanquin ride back to the harbor, Shan and Captain Heijo spoke at length, topics that flew past Bei's awareness. He was so tired, and it took all his focus to just remain lucid.
Without warning, a vision came upon him like a sudden storm, and he fainted dead away.