The next week seemed to pass quickly. Between training with Grenwin, learning about the lands south of the wall from Symon, getting to know the people here, and working on my channeling, time flew by.
The constellations had seemed to enter a period of dormancy, none approaching me at all since the nanite cluster. That was fine, as it gave me a chance to settle and adjust to what I already had.
After a few days, I started seeing more and more people using the tools I'd built. It was heartening that my work was good enough to be put to use.
I did manage to make some simple soap by boiling wood ashes for lye and mixing it with warmed animal fat. It was crude, but still effective. The free folk did have a few people who made soap in the lands beyond the wall, but they jealously guarded the making of it.
The locals appreciated my willingness to show them how to make it as much as they did having access to the precious cleaning substance. Apparently, the making of it was treated almost as an occult art, a thing of woodswitches. I was more than happy to show them that it wasn't some complicated mystic ritual.
They did bathe often, boiling water in pots and using rags to wash themselves. They'd learned a long time ago that cleaning oneself made illnesses rarer, and cleaning with soap was better than not.
I legitimately had difficulty understanding why the people below the wall regarded these people as barbaric savages. If anyone had spent any time with them, they would see very quickly that the free folk were quite a complex and nuanced culture. They lacked resources, but they used what they had to the utmost.
Even the practice of wife-taking I could find some justification for. These groups tended to be small, and inbreeding was a danger. The environment had encouraged a culture emphasizing survival merit, and so if someone was taken as a wife or husband, the taker would have proven themselves worthy of having children. Often, spouses would be taken from neighboring groups, not from within the same group.
There were even cautionary tales of people only taking husbands or wives from within the same group, and how those descendants became weak or ill over generations.
Once the conditions had changed, more people living in an area with abundant food and shelter, I was confident that practices like wife-taking could be phased out.
My training with the Power had been going as well as I could expect. I was able to touch saidar, the female half of the One Power, more and more consistently. I still couldn't actually channel it, and just the touching required focus that could be easily disrupted. Still, it was encouraging that I was slowly making my way past the first major hurdle.
Grenwin was a good teacher. By her estimations, I'd reached the point where I wouldn't hurt myself accidentally. She and Ygdis still easily overpowered me, but I felt I was improving reasonably quickly.
It helped that my nanites were keeping me at a peak human ability. My reflexes had been improved greatly, and I was about as strong as it was physically possible for someone of my stature to be. Oddly, that didn't seem to come through visually, as I was still visually as soft as I had been before. A conundrum, but not one I was overly concerned about.
Symon's education had been enlightening. Westeros wasn't the only continent, there was another across a narrow sea to the east called Essos, and south of Essos was Southoryos. East of that was Ulthos, but not much was known about that.
Westeros was a long stretch of land, very nearly three thousand miles from the southern coast to the Wall, and the lands beyond the Wall seemed to extend northward beyond known measure. On average, it was between nine and twelve hundred miles wide, and the map Symon drew in the dirt resembled a long rectangle with chunks taken out of it.
I was shocked to learn that slavery was something outlawed in the Seven Kingdoms below the wall, and furious that it was deeply institutionalized in Essos.
Essos was huge, land-wise, and was home to many different cultures. The westmost region held the nine so-called "free" cities, independent city-states located on the western coast. Eight of nine of these city-states practiced slavery, and the ninth had outlawed it.
Eastward was a region known as the Dothraki Sea, a vast grassland plain that covered much of inland Essos. The inhabitants of the region, the Dothraki, were a culture of warlike nomads that contributed greatly to the slave economy of the continent through numerous slave-raids.
In the south of the continent lie the Valyrian peninsula, a large headland extending south into the Summer Sea. Once, it had been the heartland of an empire of dragon-riding slavers, but had been destroyed in a cataclysm known as the Doom of Valyria a few hundred years ago. The Free Cities had once been Valyrian colonies that became independent after the Freehold collapsed.
East of that was Slaver's Bay and Ghiscar. There were a great many city-states in the region, and three massive slaver port cities on the coast.
There was more even further eastward, the shadowed city of Asshai, Qarth, the city of warlocks, and even further was the empire of Yi-Ti. Symon knew little about them, apparently most of his studies had focused on architecture and mathematics than history. Still, he was able to give me a broad overview.
It was disturbing to be given more evidence of the alien nature of this world. Part of me had been hoping that it was all a mistake, that I could just make my way back home without any problems, but that hope had died days ago.
I just had to make the best of the situation. It seemed lucky that I'd wound up here with the free folk and not anywhere else. Below the Wall I would have had to navigate a feudal society, and probably wouldn't have had any real direction in life. In Essos, I'd probably have been taken as a slave, but I would have worked to end the institution.
Come to think, I still should. I'd need to take care of the free folk first, get them below the wall and reasonably secure, and then I could move to Essos and start tackling the slavery issue.
Maybe by that point I'd have more lights from the constellations that might help out.
I wasn't a violent person, but something about the very concept of enslaving another human being viscerally angered me. There could be no mercy for slavers. John Brown had the right of it when he started Bloody Kansas, killing off slavers and freeing the slaves.
In my view, slavers had forfeited their right to be considered people. They were a cancer on humanity and needed to be treated as such.
The institutionalized slavery present in Essos had lasted thousands of years. Even the worst of European and American chattel slavery had only lasted a few centuries, and the harm done to the slaves and descendants of slaves had persisted even to the current day. How awful must it be after more than ten times as long?
By contrast, Westeros was much better off. The essosi peoples seemed to take the view that the Seven Kingdoms were barbaric and primitive, but the westerosi had outlawed slavery thousands of years ago.
Sure, a hereditary caste system with almost no social mobility wasn't all that much better, but it still wasn't chattel slavery. That being said, the fact that a lord owned at least some of the people who lived on his lands was still pretty bad.
At least here, north of the Wall, I didn't have to worry about that. These folks had been incredibly accepting once I proved able to contribute to the community, and that was an attitude I sincerely appreciated. A communal cultural bent was as rare on this world as it had been back on Earth.
It was astonishing how easily they worked together. Beyond the chieftain, there weren't any formalized roles. When working on a group task, like cleaning the kills that the hunters brought back, the group deferred to the most experienced person. Often, that was Wyck or a man named Dagmoor. On other tasks, the former managers would defer to others without complaint.
It was pleasant to work with people that didn't micromanage or lord a position over me.
I was adjusting reasonably well to a life without advanced technology. Keeping busy helped take my mind off of the creeping distress that was realizing I'd probably never see my friends or loved ones again. Maybe it was unhealthy to throw myself into work as a coping mechanism, but I was certainly productive.
The chill morning air brushed my face as I made my way to Symon's hut. Most people just slept in the Hall, a larger structure with plenty of space, but a few had their own private residences.
The door was open, and the man was reading a leatherbound tome. I knocked on the doorframe.
"Morning Symon."
He looked over, "Ah, that time already? Come in, come in."
He put the book away as I made myself comfortable, carefully wrapping it in the oiled hide and placing it in the chest near the bed. He then sat across from me.
"Where had we left off yesterday?" He asked rhetorically. "Ah, yes, the minor houses of the North."
I nodded, then hesitated. "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you."
Raising an eyebrow, he waved for me to continue.
"I haven't made this public knowledge yet, but I can heal your leg if you want me to."
He blinked. "How so?" Stretching the limb before him, he rolled up the leg of his trousers, revealing the stump. "I've never known an injury like this to be healed. The Citadel believes it to be impossible, and I've heard no tales of miraculous restorations of maiming."
"It's hard to explain, but it involves countless tiny machines that heal the body from the smallest levels." I left out the weirdness inherent with the nanites pulling material from somewhere to do what they did.
I hadn't needed to eat in days thanks to them.
Shrugging, "If you can, then do so." He shook his head, "I'd not like to waste time wondering how or if you should."
Moving over, I put my hand on his shoulder and set the nanites to work. They worked just fine over clothing, spreading throughout his body and concentrating on the greatest injury, the wounded leg.
He grunted, watching in shocked awe as his missing foot was restored over the course of a minute. He flexed his toes, then took his leg in hand, poking and prodding.
I had the nanites heal him completely. It was peculiar, letting them work with general directions. I knew what and how they were doing what they did but micromanaging each nanite individually was far beyond what I could do, even if I could control each one if I truly wanted.
Cautiously, he stood, testing the leg. "No pain," he said with wonder in his voice. Taking a few steps, "It's like I'd never lost it!" He laughed, then with surprising speed, hugged me.
"Thank you, Maia. Thank you."
Awkwardly, I pat him on the back. "You're very welcome. Just trying to do what I can, you know."
He released me, pure happiness radiating from his features. "I'm going to need another boot!" He laughed, stepping back.
"Yeah. Oh, I also cleared up a bit of heart disease. It probably wouldn't have hurt you, but you don't need to worry about heart attacks anytime soon."
Scratching at his chest, "My uncle died of a weak heart. Thank you."
I nodded, "Anytime."
"Can you tell me more of these tiny machines? How could they do this? What do they look like? Where are they?"
I answered his questions to the best of my ability, having to clarify multiple times. He seemed disbelieving that there could be anything smaller than what the eye could see, but his healed leg was proof enough that there was something going on beyond his vision.
He was very curious, and I spent the next few hours talking to him about them.
Alarmed shouts from outside interrupted an explanation of germ theory. We both looked at each other, then got to our feet.
"Go find out what that's all about," he said while rifling around in his chest.
"Yeah."
I left the small hut, looking around for the source of the disturbance. Dagmoor was running from the woods downriver, heading to the village and shouting.
In response, the warriors unlimbered their weapons, seeming grim. I saw Grenwin and Ygdis and made my way over to join them.
"What is it?" I asked, watching as Dagmoor sprinted towards us.
"Dunno, nothing good." Grenwin replied, "Raid, maybe."
Dagmoor was wounded, a short shaft of wood protruding from his shoulder. He stopped in front of Grenwin, motioning back the way he came. "Sea-raiders." He panted for breath, grasping his injured arm.
Stepping forward, I laid a hand on his arm and had the nanites heal him. After only a moment, the wooden shaft fell as though sliced where it intersected his skin. The rest of the shaft and a nastily barbed iron tip were broken down, muscle and flesh reforming as though no injury had existed.
He glanced at me with a grateful expression, rubbing his shoulder. "Never gonna get used to that. Thanks."
Ygdis pointed, "There!"
Back near the woods, a large group of men dressed in unfamiliar winter clothing were advancing. Some held crossbows, others had long and heavy looking cudgels, and yet more had long poles with loops of rope at the ends.
There had to be at least thirty of them, laughing amongst themselves as they walked without concern. Some pointed and jeered at us, raucous laughter and words in an odd language following.
"Slavers," Grenwin hissed. "Regroup!" She called to the other fighters, waving them over and calling again.
There were only thirteen of us who were able to fight. We seemed a motley group, huddled together with spears and bows.
"We charge them," Grenwin said, "They want us alive. We make them bleed and run."
Mutters of agreement from the group. Taegj snorted, "Let's show them what it means to be free. Come on!"
He started forward, and the rest of us followed. My heart was hammering in my ears, and it seemed I could barely hear the shouting of our group.
The slavers had stopped, spreading out. A tall man with a scarred face casually lifted his crossbow and loosed a bolt with a surprisingly loud twang.
It struck Taegj in the belly, and he roared. Two more bolts followed, and he fell.
Shocked, I stopped and stared. I'd never seen so much blood in one place before.
Shaking myself, I bent and healed him. His stomach and intestines had been perforated, but it was a trivial fix for the nanites.
Looking back up, I saw that the free folk had engaged the slavers. Spears and long knives flashed, cudgels rose and fell. One of the catchpoles had caught Ygdis, three men dragging her further behind the group.
Blood hammering in my ears, I finally understood what people meant when they said they were so angry they saw red. My vision seemed to narrow, and the distance between myself and them seemed to shrink.
My sword was in my hand, but I couldn't remember drawing it. A cudgel fell toward me, and I slashed wildly.
Blood spurted in the air as the man's arm was cut through at the wrist and his hand fell. He opened his mouth, face a rictus of anger and pain, but I couldn't hear anything but the pounding of drums.
One of the catchpoles fell around my shoulders, trapping my arms. There was a moment of darkness as something struck me across the head, my nanites repairing whatever damage had been taken in a fraction of a second.
I struggled, twisting my sword in my hands and falling forward. It was enough that the blade sliced through the wooden pole and the rope, freeing me.
The men with Ygdis had been joined by more, restraining a few of us.
There was a hand on my arm, glove of the unfamiliar make of these people. At a whim, the nanites moved, seeking the brain and interfering with the brain stem, turning off consciousness like flipping a switch.
The hand went limp, and the bearer fell. With the momentary freedom, I ran towards the slavers restraining my friends, sword held at the ready.
The slavers seemed frightened, for some reason. One of them lifted a crossbow, and a moment later I felt as though a fist had punched me in the belly. Ignoring it, I continued on, falling on the men with my sword.
Whatever weapons they raised to stop me, whatever defenses they had, the sword cut through them all. They fell, one after the other. I spared a few moments to heal my friends of whatever injuries they'd taken before turning back to the fight.
It wasn't going well. Many of the free folk were on the ground, and more of the slavers were coming for me. The ground was dyed crimson, blood steaming in the cold air.
Two more fists struck me, knocking me backwards. Looking down, bolts protruded from my chest, and one had pierced my heart.
The nanites took care of it, shafts falling from my body within moments.
The anger had cooled to something hard and sharp, and I sprinted at the nearest slaver. The fight turned to a blur, and somewhere I'd lost my sword. I had been reaching out and tapping them, knocking every man I touched into unconsciousness.
The world snapped back into focus, my breathing harsh and unsteady. Shaking myself, I looked around.
Bodies lie everywhere. Most were slavers, but a few were the free folk I'd gotten to know and care for. I knew I wasn't thinking clearly, trying to shove down the horror of it all behind action as I picked my way around the bodies and healing the free folk I could.
Miraculously, nobody I cared for had died. Herrick and Dagmoor had both been very close to death, but it seemed the nanites were capable of saving someone who was on the brink.
I found my sword on the ground, covered in blood and disgusting substances. The smell of offal was in the air, and I knelt and emptied my stomach.
My hands were just as fouled as the sword. Shaking, I scrubbed them off in the snow as best I could. Hastily, I used the tunic of one of the fallen slavers to wipe my blade clean, then sheathed it.
A hand gently fell on my shoulder, and I jumped, whirling around.
It was Grenwin, looking at me with concern. She said something, but the words seemed to garble together. I shook my head, but everywhere I looked, more bodies lay.
She gently took my arm, leading me back toward the village. The rest of the free folk were looting the bodies, but when some looked at me, I was sickened by the fear I saw in their eyes.
Somehow, I found myself in front of a fire, clutching a hide blanket around myself. Something was rhythmically tugging through my hair, a pleasant sensation that helped ground my scattered thoughts. There was a sound as well, someone humming a calming tune.
I sat there for a time, before recovering enough to recognize that Grenwin was brushing my hair.
"What…" I asked, my mouth surprisingly dry. "What happened?"
The humming stopped. "We survived."
"Did we lose anyone?" I asked, concerned that someone might have been taken.
"No, nobody. Everyone is well."
"That's good."
There was a considering hum. "Was that the first time you've had to fight?"
"Yeah." I looked into the fire, the crackling wood absorbing my attention.
"You did well. Rest for today, we can talk about it tomorrow."
I nodded, watching as the flames seemed to turn into scenes of death and carnage. Shuddering, I tried to turn my attention to anything else.
The brushing helped relax me. I was aware of myself to realize I wasn't handling things very well, but there wasn't anything to do about it.
I tried to turn my thoughts to plans for the future, but all I could think was that I never wanted this to happen again. I'd been lazy the last week, taking things slowly. If I'd actually worked to my potential, this might not have happened like it had.
Needing to unfreeze the ground to build was an excuse. I could work with frozen earth as easily as I could wood and stone, I just hadn't wanted to really apply myself. I was lazy, focused on my own comfort over anything else.
I had to change that. I knew it, and the first thing I would do was start working on walls and better weapons. I needed to start really working on bootstrapping tech so I could take advantage of all the possibilities the ecotech light had given.
There were weapons in there, in addition to ecologically friendly power and construction. I needed to build a chemistry lab to produce samples for the fabricator, and once I had a small amount of the requisite explosives and shaped cartridges, I could start working on rifles.
I could hear the sound of wood being chopped.
"What's going on out there?" I asked.
"Gotta burn the dead," Grenwin replied.
I closed my eyes, taking a breath. I should help.
I made to stand, "I'll go and help."
She had been sitting behind me, and I could see that she looked worse for wear. She nodded after a moment and joined me.
Leaving the hide blanket in the hut, I left to help chop wood. The mood was somber, and the free folk were treating me differently than they had before. There was wariness, but also more respect than I'd seen before.
The naked dead were being piled near the start of a bonfire, everything they'd worn being good salvage. Not all of the slavers were dead, some were merely unconscious, and I had no idea what to do about them.
Doing the work of ten people at once was enough to render a large tree into a pile of firewood in minutes in combination with my other abilities. With my help, we put together the bonfire quickly, piling bodies onto it. It was dirty work, especially as the dead had released their bowels.
After it was lit, I washed in the river, heedless of the near-freezing water. Others were boiling water in clay pots and gathering washing rags. The smell of burning flesh was rank and oily.
It took a while before I had scrubbed enough to feel clean again. I washed my clothes as best I could, putting them back on without bothering to wait for them to dry. They might freeze over later, but I could deal with it.
The slavers I'd knocked unconscious, five in all, had been dumped in the hall after being stripped. Looking them over, I considered what to do about them. These creatures wouldn't be allowed to continue their trade, but they may have useful information.
Kneeling down next to one, I touched its shoulder. I directed the nanites to disable voluntary muscle control below the neck, then stimulated the nerves governing the spark of consciousness.
The creature's eyes opened, blinking blearily. It focused on my face, then my clothes, and scowled. Cursing in a language I didn't understand, I got the gist. Probably something about fucking.
"Do you speak this language?" I asked dispassionately.
"Fuck you, savage whore." It rasped.
I nodded, satisfied. "Then you understand me."
More cursing before I paralyzed it. The thing was still aware, and I'd left it the ability to move its eyes and blink, but no more.
"If you ever want your body returned to you, you'll listen to my questions and answer truthfully. If not," I turned its head to face the other four, "I have four more tries after disposing of you." I turned the head back to face me, "Now, blink twice if you understand."
Two blinks.
I smiled coldly. "Very good. First question, why were you here?"
Letting it speak once more, it worked its jaw. "F-Fuck you, witch!" It rasped.
Shaking my head sadly, "That was the wrong answer. One out of three strikes." Lifting the things arm, I held its hand before its face. The nanites were directed to painlessly remove the index finger and thumb, the digits falling onto the thing's belly and leaving smooth skin behind.
Now there was real fear in its eyes. "Slaves," it said quickly, "We catch slaves for sale."
"Hm, I suppose I should reward you for good behavior. Thumb or index?"
"W-What?" It asked in a quavering voice.
"Which do you want back?"
A moments hesitation and a flicker of hope in the eyes.
"Thumb."
Nodding, I picked up the digit and held it to the hand, having the nanites reintegrate it. I allowed it to flex its thumb for a moment, proof that it was real, then took away its control again.
"Next question, where do you sell to?"
"Myr," it said hastily, "We sell to Myr, Lys and Volantes too!"
I let the hand fall. "And how have you come to these cold lands?"
"Ship, down the river. Malabar thought… Easy slaves, here. Exotic, sell well. Strong and hardy."
"How many were in this… expedition?"
A flicker of uncertainty crossed its features. "Thirty here, as many on the ship." The eyes flicked over to the other four, then back to me. "Let us leave and we will say these lands are empty and the cold took the rest."
I kept my expression neutral. "How many slaves have you on the ship?"
It blinked, "Six and ten."
"Very good. I think I will ask your friends these questions, and if you all answer the same, perhaps I will be lenient."
I didn't give it the chance to respond before paralyzing it again. The unpleasantness of being awake and aware yet unable to act seemed fitting for a slaver.
I repeated the process with the other four, and to my surprise, all of the answers lined up.
Stepping away from them, I stood where they could each see me. "I keep my promises. I will be lenient. You will be judged by those you sought to enslave."
Dagmoor had entered the hall halfway through my interrogation, standing well back. I turned to him, noting the fear hidden below a façade of stony confidence.
"Dagmoor, please gather everyone willing to pass judgement on these… Things."
He nodded, leaving the building.
Before long, others started filing in. Even Taegj, who I would have expected to take charge in this situation, was all but deferentially waiting.
Once everyone had gathered, I addressed them.
"I've only been with you for a week, but in that time I've found good people. Survival here, with the little you have, is much harder than anything I've experienced before. I hope that I'm still welcome among you after this."
I trailed off, then motioned to the slavers. "These things have told me that they have a ship downriver, with another thirty men aboard and sixteen slaves. They openly admitted to their purpose here, to take you as slaves and kill those they couldn't. They attacked you, and so it is up to you what happens to them now."
There was quiet for a long and uncomfortable moment before Taegj stepped forward. "I say we kill 'em."
The sentiment was echoed by Herrick and Wyck. Grenwin spoke up, "Make them walk to the Wall!" while Ygdis said "Take their scalps!"
Before long, there was an angry clamor in the hall. I raised both arms, "Peace, now! Let's take a vote!"
The clamor fell to confused mutterings.
"All in favor of forcing them to walk to the Wall? It's all but a death sentence for creatures as weak and craven as these."
They looked among each other, and I had to clarify. "Raise your hands if you're for it. Keep them lowered if you don't."
Some hands raised, and I counted. Twelve of sixteen.
"In favor of scalping them?"
Fourteen hands rose this time.
"And in favor of gutting them like pigs?"
Only seven hands this time.
"Scalp 'em and make 'em walk! Let the Others take them!" Ygdis shouted, and there was a cry of agreement from the rest.
I nodded, "Restrain them while I fix them, if you will."
They came forward, holding the slavers down, and for good cause. As I tapped them and restored them from their paralysis, they started struggling and shouting many unflattering things.
In short order, some had unsheathed knives and went to work, the shouts turning to screams.
The slavers were picked up after it was done, forced outside and faced south before being released. The free folk jeered at them, and the slavers started running nude towards the forest. Our own laughter followed, a mockery of the way they'd approached our village, and before long they were among the trees and out of sight.
Teagj walked up to me, looking distinctly unhappy. "Shoulda just killed the buggers. What if they make it to their ship and come at us again?"
"Maybe we should have. Still, that lot? You think they'll make it more than a few hours before the cold gets them?"
His frown deepened, "Maybe. And if the Others do take them for wights? We've just made them that much stronger."
I nodded, "You have a point. We should talk about this as a group now that it's come up. In the future, might be best to have a policy of killing slavers and burning the bodies."
He seemed confused, "Then why all this? I saw what you did, and I know I'd be dead if you'd not done your witchery on me." He raised his hands at my indignant expression, "I ain't complaining! I'm just saying, why stop us from killing them if we were gonna do that anyway?"
I blinked, "Huh?" I didn't remember telling anyone to leave them alone, but it was odd that they'd been put in the hall.
He eyed me quizzically. "You don't remember? After it was done, you'd said to put them somewhere warm."
Vaguely, I thought I remembered something like that. "I've not fought like that before. I think I was still riding the battle-high, you might call it."
"Ah, that'd do it."
I shook my head, "Anyway, there's a ship downriver with sixteen slaves aboard. I aim to free them."
He scowled. "And put 'em where? Bring them back here?" He motioned at the small village, "We've not the room for them. We barely have enough to get by, how will we feed and clothe that many people?"
Looking at him, I saw only honest concern. Sighing, "You're right. I need to work on building up here, make sure that we'll be safe from further attacks."
He nodded, scowl lessening. "Good to see you listen to advice. You won't do too badly."
I cocked my head, "What?"
Pulling at his parka, he pointed the holes left by the bolts. "You saved my life. You saved their lives," He motioned at the others and frowned. "We all saw you fight for us. I know you've been training to challenge me."
I blinked, opening my mouth to reply, but he continued.
"I ain't stupid. Word is you want to call yourself Queen-Beyond-The-Wall? I thought it was funny at first, so I didn't do nothing about it. Now, though…"
Nodding toward the large patch of bloody churned snow, "Well. I'll be the first to say it."
He stepped forward, standing next to me and taking my arm.
"Ho, First Fork!" Teagj shouted.
The group of people turned to face us, and I had a sinking feeling.
"This woman fought with us, bled with us! Say you, is she one of us?"
They shouted in the affirmative, pumping their fists in the air. This had the feel of some sort of ceremony to it.
"Aye, Maia the Dove, Free Folk through and through!" He lifted my arm into the air, "Maia the Dove, Queen Beyond The Wall!"
I felt my face heating as the crowd chanted those words. All at once, they surged forward, picking me up and carrying back toward the village. No hands reached to grope at me, but I was borne aloft by the cheering group.
They deposited me before the great white tree in the center of the village, below the carved face.
Grenwin stepped forward, "Old Gods as witness!" She unsheathed a knife, one I'd made, grabbed my hand, and almost gently slashed a line across my palm. Then, she smeared my bloody hand on the bark of the tree.
The group cheered again, and some began preparing the communal fire. Others brought meat and wild vegetables. Before long, an air of celebration had taken hold, people laughing and singing around the fire.
Through it all, I sat quietly, processing what had just happened. They'd just… Made me a leader? I had been working toward this, but I didn't understand why. I'd only been here for a week!
Grenwin sat near me, offering a bowl of roasted meat and vegetables. I took it.
"Grenwin, why this?"
She laughed, "We're alive because of you! Since you've joined us, you've done nothing but help freely. Haven't you noticed how much more the hunters have been bringing back with the sledges? How much cleaner we are with soap? How much more we can get done with the new tools? Aye, you've said you wanted this, and now you have it. Use it, do what you've been doing, and we'll follow."
I blinked, thinking it over. "I… Yeah, I want to do more."
She clapped me on the shoulder. "Good."
"So, is this a first amongst equals thing? I know how the free folk feels about the idea of kings and queens, and this title seems more about being best suited to lead than commanding and expecting obeyance."
Nodding, she smiled. "That's it. You ain't a queen like the kneelers think. When word spreads more will join us, but they won't know you like we do. They'll be watching for weakness, and if they see it, they'll challenge you."
I nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll do what I can, then."
The cheerful atmosphere helped drag me out of my gloom. For the first time in a while, a constellation swung past, and I was able to grab a new light. It was a pretty big one of a size with the largest I'd gained before.
The light held a near-magical ability to work with clothing and imbue it with protective qualities. I could take raw silk, cotton, wool, hide, or any other textile and turn it into a garment that would need no maintenance, keep the wearer perfectly warm or cool in any environment, and protect the wearer as well as good chainmail. All the while, it wouldn't encumber them whatsoever, regardless of how thick or thin the garment was. As a bonus, almost an afterthought, I could work raw materials incredibly quickly with almost no tools, and those I needed I could make easily.
"Grenwin, I need some hide."
"Oh? Why?"
"Just learned how to make really good clothing. Sorta magic? You know how the tools I made are better than they should be? It's that, but with clothes."
She looked surprised but nodded. "I'll go hunting tomorrow and bring you some."
"Thank you." I stood and stretched, "I think I'm going to go on a walk."
"Sure."
I left the festival, walking around the village while thinking. This new light was incredibly useful. I'd told Ygdis that I'd do what I could to make life easier, and now even clothing could be improved. The effect seemed to scale with quality, and thanks to my minimum quality set at masterwork… Well, I'd have to test to find out, but I was reasonably sure that the parka and trousers everyone wore would protect the wearer very well and be much easier to move in.
Really, the material used didn't seem to matter. A silk robe would be just as protective as a cured leather gambeson, if I made both.
I mused on what it would take to outfit everyone here before I realized I was walking near the killing ground. Shivering, I moved on, heading back to the celebration and doing my best to join in.
The festivities proceeded into the evening and late into the night. Eventually, people started heading away, seeking rest. I was one of the last to leave, and I retreated to my makeshift bedroom. Laying on the bed, I tried to fall asleep, to little success.
I kept trying until it stuck, and my dreams were filled with violence and wordless shouting.