The sun rose from the north over the horizon of the Malvasia region, casting a curtain of light over its lush forest.
The pine trees cast dark, spiky shadows onto a large clearing of grass separating the forest and the river flowing near it.
In the clearing lay a traveller wearing a long-sleeved brown shirt and a wide green riding skirt, both made from linen.
Her oblong face was covered by her wavy, coal-black hair. Her eyelids covered her hazel-colored eyes, while saliva dripped from her narrowly opened lips onto the cloak lying beneath her.
Sleeping next to her horse. A linen bag, leather shoes and a rondinellain stiletto knife lay near, her fingers wrapped around its hilt as if readying herself for combat.
A slight breeze touched the blades of grass around her, carrying the pine wood aroma to her button shaped nose, waking her up to a new day.
As the traveller rose from the ground, her sight set on a large village situated on a small plateau in the distance. A feeling of longing washed over her while feeling the wind blowing behind her, as if urging her forward.
She raked the ashes from the campfire near her over the remaining embers before stomping them out with her worn leather shoes, leaving the soles slightly grey in color.
After stretching her aching body, the traveller took a small sip from her waterskin and brushed her teeth with the cuff of her left sleeve before turning to her horse and gently petting her companion, signalling her intent to depart.
After putting her stiletto in its scabbard, the traveller tied the leather belt connected to it around her waist, letting it rest on her left hip.
After checking her bag, she put it over her left shoulder, letting it rest on her back.
“Jijo, let's go,” she told her companion as she mounted his back. She then squeezed her legs, urging him to trot.
Focusing her sight on the path before her, a gentle smile appeared on her face. A feeling of worry mixed with calmness washed over her as endless thoughts began to fill her mind.
Attempting to clear her mind, she stared at the clear sky above her. Eventually, only a single thought remained in her mind:
Again…
As the sun slowly marched across the sky, the traveller kept riding towards the village, eventually reaching the front of the small plateau.
She eventually reached a large vineyard split in half by the road leading to the village.
The grape's intoxicating aroma seeped into her nose, reminding her of different towns in the region, each having a signature wine slightly reminiscent of summertime melons.
Reaching the entrance of the village, she faced a guard wearing a green gambeson and a brown linen cloak. He held a spear with a winged head, to which a pendant holding a wooden wheel was tied.
While pointing to the ground, the guard said in the region's native tongue, “Ciao, per favore, scendi da cavallo,” with an accent slightly unfamiliar to the traveller.
After getting off her horse, the traveller attempted to greet him in return and asked, “Ciao, ho fatto qualcosa?” despite not truly understanding her words, only repeating a sentence attempting to ask what she did.
Noticing her foreign accent, a confused expression spread across the guard's face before he asked, “Per quale motivo sei venuto qui?” inquiring as to why she came to the village.
Only understanding a single word, motivo, “reason”, the traveller barely understood the sentence’s meaning and replied, “Passare attraverso,” attempting to tell the guard she's passing through the village.
Seemingly getting agitated, the guard uttered a single word, “Perché?” attempting to ask her again.
Stuttering slightly, not a single word left the traveller's mouth. Her anxiety was clearly shown on her face as she took her bag off her back before opening it, showing the guard herbs, a small knife, a strike-a-light, a piece of flint, and a few copper coins belonging to the region.
The guard stared at her, a slightly exhausted look spread across his face, while quietly whispering to himself, “Dio aiutami.”
Staring at her once again the guard asked, his impatience noticeable in his tone, “nome?” asking for her name.
To which the traveller responded, “Catina.”
He then pointed behind him at the town's market and said, “Entra.”
Lowering her head, the traveller put her bag on her back once more and motioned for her companion to follow her as she entered the village.
She took only a few steps into the village before hearing the guard utter, “Puttana” under his breath.
Not understanding the language, Catina continued on her path once more, yet a sombre feeling grew in her heart. Despite not knowing the word, she understood its meaning.
A slur referring to foreign women, demeaning and lowering their worth.
Entering the village's market, a calm breeze passed through the traveller, bringing the market's wares' aroma to her, the smell of salt and fine wine seeping into her nose.
Looking through the vendors centred at the town's plaza, the traveller grew more relaxed, enjoying the calm weather before noticing an old merchant sitting on a wooden chair leaning against a stand featuring herbs and local spices.
Sporting a green doublet, brown linen pants, and pointed leather shoes, the man's high status was clear to the traveller.
She greeted him before pulling the herbs out of her bag and asking, “Quanto?” inquiring about the selling price of the herbs she was offering him.
Noticing Catina's accent, a curious expression spread across his face as one of his eyebrows rose. He then raised both of his hands, lifting a single finger on his right hand and four on his left.
After attempting to calculate the trade in her head, she eventually agreed and nodded, exchanging the herbs for four copper coins and a single silver coin.
Noticing Jijo’s unwillingness to move, Catina sighed and said, “It's the same thing every time with you. Why don't you eat in the morning? You know you have time.” Her frustration growing, she eventually turned to a nearby stand and purchased a pair of apples with a copper coin.
Feeding the apples to her companion, she felt its tongue wetting her hand. A slight feeling of annoyance washed over her as she wiped her hand on her cloak.
Finally managing to lead her companion, Catina walked around the market, viewing its wares until she eventually reached its edge, standing in front of a stall featuring dried and smoked meat.
She pointed at a small piece of prosciutto and raised her right hand, lifting three fingers.
Silently exchanging two copper coins for three pieces of prosciutto, Catina whispered to herself, "If we run again, at least I'll have something..." gaining a confused expression from the stall's vendor.
Waving her hand towards the vendor, she said, "ninte," attempting to dispel his confusion. He, in turn, looked away from Catina and started to speak with one of the townsfolk.
Opening her bag, the traveller dropped her acquired copper and silver coins inside, adding to the ones already in it.
Counting five copper coins and a single silver coin, she felt a slight feeling of satisfaction growing in her heart.
Putting her bag on her back, Catina started walking once more, with a sombre feeling that slowly faded with each step she took. She thought to herself, Money is the best language.
As the sun found its place in the sky's center, so did Catina find herself wandering around the town square, eventually finding herself in front of a popina, a small wine bar usually frequented by the lower class.
Turning to her companion, Catina took a deep breath and said, "Sorry I said it like that. You know I'm not really mad, right?" to which Jijo rubbed his neck against her head, seemingly accepting her apology.
“At least you understand me,” Catina said with a broken smile on her face.
She hung off Jijo's neck, hugging him, standing on her toes and attempting not to lose her balance.
A feeling of calmness overcame her as she felt her companion's warmth.
After letting go of her companion, she noticed a few blades of grass sprouting between the gaps in the stone bricks that covered the popina’s front and once again turned to her companion. “I'm going in. You can have these as a snack,” she said while rubbing Jijo's neck and pointing at the grass blades.
As she stepped into the popina, a thought entered her head and passed as quickly as it entered, maybe their wine is different from the others.
Inside the popina was an L-shaped counter standing about waist height. Carved into its stone top were holes filled with food and drinks for the popina's customers.
In the left corner was an oven cooking food simultaneously heating the room, giving it a nice, cozy atmosphere.
The food aromas seeped into the traveller's nose, just as a sense of familiarity seeped into her heart.
She then noticed a mature woman sporting light brown hair with slight bags under her eyes.
Her brown dress swayed around her as she moved between the customers and the oven, her green tunic’s sleeves rolled up, with the woman's movements clearly wary of the food staining her clothes.
Noticing Catina, the woman smiled and said, “Ciao, puoi sederti qui,” pointing at a wooden chair in front of the counter.
After sitting in the chair, the traveller stared at the other customers eating, her hunger growing with each snippet of smell from the customers' ravioli and mortadella.
The woman turned to her once more asking, “cosa posso portarti?” To which Catina silently pointed at the meal of the old man sitting next to her.
A confused yet friendly look spread upon the woman's face before saying, “Certo,” and walking towards the oven while continuing her conversation with the other patrons of the popina.
Listening to their conversation, Catina was puzzled, barely understanding a single word of it yet noticing the woman being called Lizia before thinking to herself, Interesting name.
Getting lost in thoughts, Catina suddenly noticed a dish of ravioli and mortadella being placed in the hole carved in the counter and a wooden cup with Malvasia wine placed in front of her.
As Catina started eating, she once again attempted to listen to the conversation of the other patrons, only managing to decipher a few words and phrases, yet feeling a sense of enjoyment and warmth spreading inside her.
Before long Lizia turned to the traveller and asked, “com'è il cibo?” asking if she enjoyed her meal.
Catina, surprised, only understood it as a question about food, immediately turned towards her and nervously answered, “Sì,” before shoving a handful of ravioli into her mouth with an iron fork, silencing herself and nodding her head, attempting to halt any further attempt at conversation with her.
The woman smiled warmly and continued conversing with the other patrons, with Catina in turn listening once again to their conversation. Drinking the Malvasia , a warm feeling spread in her chest as she savoured its taste.
Barely listening to the patrons' conversation anymore, Catina continued to eat, yet one word stood out to her:
Pagana.
For a single second, she felt as if her heart stopped beating as a thought rose through her mind. They don't know, they don't know, they don't know.
Quickly finishing her meal, Catina took another sip from the wooden cup, coughing and gaining the attention of the other patrons and the woman.
She quickly waved her hand, trying to dismiss them, before opening her bag and putting three copper coins on the counter.
She quickly got up from her chair and walked towards the exit, stopping right as she heard Lizia say, “Ciao, vieni di nuovo!” to which Catina in turn said, “Ciao!” before exiting the popina.
She rushed to her companion, hugging his neck, before saying, “Everything is fine, I promise, I'm here.” To which her companion responded by raising his neck and rubbing her face with his mouth.
“I love you too,” she said.
As the sun continued to march towards the south, the pair then continued walking near the town's market, eventually reaching a blacksmith's house.
Its walls were made of sunset crimson-colored clay bricks, giving it a slightly warm feeling, and its roof was adorned with brown clay tiles with a chimney connected to an outside hearth in a workshop. The tools lying on a workbench placed next to it were neatly organized, seemingly left by a blacksmith.
A scythe's blade was placed on an anvil on the opposite side of the workshop, catching her attention.
She tied Jijo's reins to a nearby cypress tree, saying, “I'll be back soon, I just want to look at something over there.” To which Jijo replied by leaning against the tree before snorting in Catina's direction. Catina then quickly yelled, slightly turning her head, “I know, just give me a minute!”
Taking brisk steps towards the anvil, she crouched, looking at it closely while saying, “Looks good enough,” before walking towards the house's door and lowering her head to avoid hitting the hanging sign featuring a hammer and the word “Fucina”.
Knocking on the door a few times, Catina eventually said to herself, “Maybe they're praying,” before walking towards the tree and sitting under it.
Staring at the blue sky, the traveller lost herself in thought, memories of different towns rising to her mind, their wines each having a unique flavor and aroma. Eventually, she reminisced about her hometown's wine and its oak-like smell.
Remembering its cold weather, she closed her eyes as she felt a light breeze passing by her, thinking: This is nice.
Slowly, as each second passed, Catina's thoughts faded into dreams. She then leaned her head backward, resting it on the tree.
She then woke up as she suddenly felt a wet sensation on her cheek. She quickly moved her head before looking at her companion, who had lowered his head and was the apparent source of the wet sensation.
After rubbing her cheek dry with her cloak, she noticed three copper coins laid in front of her. A slight feeling of shame crept inside her as she uttered in a near-whispering tone, “They think I'm a beggar?”
She quickly took the coins and stuffed them in her bag, returning the amount to a single silver coin and five copper coins.
Lifting her head, the traveller looked forward and noticed an old man wearing a leather apron. His clothes were a light shade of brown, with his cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and a trimmed white beard adorned his face.
Sitting on a stool in front, he spoke to a young girl leaning against the workbench.
Seemingly in her early teens, she wore a long green dress, and long blonde hair adorned her head. Her sharp eyes seemed to be looking at a small knife laid on the workbench.
After getting up, Catina quickly stretched her body before walking toward the apparent blacksmith. As she stood in front of him, a single word left her mouth: “Ciao.”
The blacksmith and the girl both smiled and said, “Ciao” before the blacksmith asked, “Cosa posso fare per lei?”
The traveller, in turn, stuttered, attempting to form a sentence, eventually managing to spout a single word, “Pulire?" while pulling her stiletto out of its sheath and presenting it to the blacksmith.
His confusion disappeared as his eyes widened. “Solo un minuto,” he said while taking the stiletto and placing it on the workbench.
He then pointed at the knife, telling the girl, “Guardare,” gaining her attention as he continued carefully cleaning each part of it, seemingly instructing the girl. The traveller attempted to listen to his instruction yet once again only understood a few words.
The old man then checked the knife before once again instructing the girl to look at the stiletto, pointing out its different parts before handing it back to Catina and raising a single finger, seemingly telling her the price was a single copper coin.
She then promptly looked in her bag, handed over a copper coin, and returned to her companion.
A bright smile spread across her face as she told her companion about the blacksmith before continuing to wander through the town.
As Catina and her companion walked, the sun moved closer toward the town's edge, as if pulling a dark crimson veil over the northern horizon, signalling the evening's arrival to the townsfolk.
The traveller once again turned to her companion and said, “I'm going to find us an inn or something.” Jijo lowered his head to meet her gaze. “Don't look at me like that,” she responded coldly. “I don't like it here. Something feels off. We'll find somewhere else to live.”
Her companion raised its head, seemingly in agreement, to which she silently said, "We'll find somewhere else to live.”
As the pair arrived at the town's center, they stood in front of a small church. A wooden wheel stood above its doors, and another stood atop its small bell tower.
Its bricks, though their color was slightly faded, stood strong, holding the structure and the people's faith.
Built into its outer nave wall was a small well, providing clean water to the town's residents.
As she reached the well, Catina emptied her waterskin, then refilled it with fresh water to the brim before placing it back in her bag.
She then washed her face, attempting to feel more awake, before directing Jijo to the well and letting him drink.
She stared at the sky as thoughts ran through her head; memories of childhood in a northern town, celebrations of harvest festivals and other holidays, cold winds coming from the northern mountains, making the town's children shiver as they played outside.
A single thought crossed Catina’s mind as she fully lost focus on her surroundings, letting her mind drown in memories. Just a bit more… I'll find somewhere similar…
Staring at the water in the circular well, Catina didn't notice the figure approaching her; an elderly, bald priest sporting a well-kept black cassock over a white alb and a short, blood-red chasuble.
In his right hand, he held a wooden staff connected to a small lamp holding dormant fireflies, the staff seemingly functioning as a walking cane for the priest.
His face grew into a warm smile as he approached, greeting her. “Ciao!” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Startled by his approach, Catina almost immediately opened her bag, searching for coins before asking, “Quanto?” The priest shook his head in response and said, “Non devi pagare, è per tutti,” expressing that the water is for everyone.
Confused by his response, the traveller slowly took her hand out of her bag, waiting for the priest's reaction.
Seeing him smile, she quickly put her bag over her back once more before taking Jijo's reins and walking away with him.
She took only a few steps before stopping in her tracks, hearing the priest calling for her, “Attendere, prego!” as he began walking slowly toward her.
A feeling of anxiety grew in her heart with each step the priest took.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
As the priest stood in front of her, Catina felt her heartbeat slowly quicken before hearing his question, “Sei del nord?”
Not understanding the question yet recognizing the last word, she nodded her head, hoping to satisfy his curiosity.
He then asked, “Are you from Rondinella?” speaking in the traveller's native tongue.
Stunned by the question, Catina attempted to answer, yet no sound left her mouth.
Noticing her shock, the priest added, “I noticed your accent and figured we might be from the same place.”
“What do you mean, the same place?” the traveller asked in a quiet tone, still unsure of how to continue the conversation.
The priest walked closer to her before sitting on a stone carved into the side of the church, next to the well.
Taking a small breath, he said, “I was born in Rondinella. Seemingly like you.”
“And how do you figure that?” Catina asked suspiciously.
Noticing her tone, the priest slowly raised his hand, as if attempting to calm the traveller. “I didn't mean anything by that, I promise. It's just that both of us speak Serenise, so I thought that, at the very least, both of us are from there.”
“I see”, Catina said before taking a deep breath. “I'm sorry if I seemed rude. I promise you, I didn't mean anything by that either.”
“I understand,” he replied. “Would you like to talk a bit? It's been a while since I talked to someone like you.” He tapped on the bench, leaving her room to sit.
Catina nodded her head and sat next to the priest. Feeling a wave of unexplained calmness wash over her, she asked, “So, how did you even get here?”
The priest smiled once more and said, “The Divine Mother guided me here. I felt her calling me to help guide people. And you can call me Father Celso, dear.”
“Of course, Father Celso, it sounds nice,” she replied. A slight disdain in her voice was clear, yet the priest ignored it.
“So, you can perform miracles?” Catina asked, inquiring about his statement.
The priest laughed lightly before answering, “I'm afraid not, dear. The Divine Mother didn't bless me with that kind of power, but I assure you, being in her service is more than enough.”
“I'm sure it is,” Catina said, lying as naturally as she breathed.
“And what brought you here, dear?” the priest asked, the warmth in his voice clear.
Looking down at the ground beneath her, she took a big breath and answered in a cold tone, “Some soldiers came, said that they're on a crusade to ‘purge the pagans’ or something.”
A moment of silence emerged; only the sound of a breeze rattling leaves on the ground was heard.
Waiting for a response, Catina eventually started getting up from the bench. Just as she did, she heard a question: “And why did you leave?”
“They said that they're going to take me with them for morale,” the traveller answered. “I didn't stay long enough to see what they meant by that.”
“I see,” the priest said, a silent apology was clear in his tone, yet left unsaid. “Maybe it's for the best; that region has a lot of pagans. They might have hurt you.”
Her heart stopped once again for only a second as a thought rose in her mind: Like you know anything.
“I think I should go. I still need to find an inn.”
“I understand, and if I may, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course Father Celso.”
“Your companion, how did you acquire him? I don't think I've seen anyone other than merchant guild coachmen have one.” His curiosity was evident to Catina, who, in turn, stared at Elpis.
A light smile formed on her face, and a sense of tranquillity washed over her as she answered, barely giving it a thought, “A blessing from the gods, I guess…”
“The gods?”
A moment of silence emerged once again.
As if time stood still, the traveller stood with it. Not a single muscle moved, yet her heart pounded faster and faster as her stomach felt as if it were sinking into itself. A single thought embedded itself in her mind, again…
Stumbling through her words, only a single lie left her mouth: “It's just a phrase…”
“Of course. You'd better be on your way then,” he said, the suspicion clear in his tone.
A shiver ran down Catina's back, as if the unsaid words pushed her to walk away from the priest. As she walked toward her companion, she heard a single sentence leave the priest's mouth: “We’ll talk later,” a tinge of familiar warmth still lingering in his tone.
Quickening her pace, she eventually reached her companion, hugging his neck and apologizing profusely. “I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry…”
Jijo quickly lowered his head, not understanding Catina's panic yet attempting to comfort her.
Taking his reins, the traveller turned to walk to the front of the church, yet stopped in her tracks when she saw Father Celso talking to a town guard, pointing at her without even turning his head.
Her heart stopped once again as her eyes widened, every muscle in her body screaming to run, find another town, find peace.
Yet, she quietly walked away, attempting to escape the guard's gaze.
Her heart beat faster with each step she took, her eyes locked onto the ground yet not noticing anything on it.
Walking through the town's streets, she eventually reached a small inn—a building with one floor, its roof adorned with brown clay tiles and a pine wood door at its front.
Hugging Jijo, Catina said in a weak tone, “I'm so sorry. We'll find a different place, a better one. I'll just stay here for a bit and think, and you'll stay here for a bit and wait, got it?” To which her companion lowered his head in acceptance.
“I knew you'd understand,” she said before opening the door and entering the inn.
The inn's interior looked as if it were hollowed out and polished—a grotto brightly lit by a large lantern hanging from the ceiling, with two doors on opposite sides of the room leading to small guest rooms. A small wooden desk sat on the opposite side of the room.
A lone old woman reading scripture sat behind it, her slightly wrinkled face showing her age. She wore a simple green dress and leather shoes. Her grey hair was cut short, and her hazel eyes looked up as Catina closed the door behind her.
She quickly straightened her back while greeting her with a warm smile, “Ciao! Cosa posso fare per te?”
Stumbling through her words, the traveller slowly pointed toward the door on the right, saying, “Sonno,” not knowing the word's meaning yet recalling it being said in other inns in the region.
The old woman nodded, slowly getting up from the chair and taking a small linen pouch from underneath the table. Presenting it to the traveller, she said, “Solo una moneta d'argento, caro.”
Confused by her words, Catina moved her bag forward, took out all the region's currency from it, and presented it, asking, “Quanto?”
Taking the silver coin from her hand, the old woman smiled and led the traveller to the door on the right side of the room. “Puoi partire domani mattina,” she said, smiling before opening the door.
“Gracias,” Catina replied, not understanding the woman's language but assuming it to be kind in nature.
After entering the room, she quickly closed the door behind her. The room was shaped similarly to the entrance, with a small wooden table and chair set against its right wall and a small bed to the left.
Her body instantly felt stiff as a sense of silence overcame her. Not a single thought passed through her mind. Moving on instinct, she grabbed the chair and set it under the doorknob, making sure it would stop any interruptions from the other side.
With shaking legs, she took only a few steps forward, before sitting at the edge of the bed.
Feeling as if her stomach had been hit, she curled into herself, her lips trembling as quick breaths went in and out, barely enough to fill her lungs. Tears slowly started forming at the edges of her eyes as a single word left her lips…
“Why?”
“Why?! Why?! Why?! Every single time!” Catina screamed, feeling as if no air was left in her lungs. She breathed heavily, yet barely managed to take any air in.
Covering her teary eyes with shaking hands, not a single thought took hold of her mind.
As tears flowed down her face and her breath slowed, the traveller attempted to wipe her face, yet the tears continued to fall, with not a single sound leaving her mouth as endless thoughts and memories burst and flowed through her head.
Memories of riding on Jijo's back mixed with thoughts of doubt and faint hope, seemingly allowing a sense of calmness to gently open her mind.
Finally managing to wipe away the tears, she took a deep breath, attempting to concentrate. A broken smile spread across her face as a single memory of her hometown sparked in her mind and evolved into a thought.
A thought of a house at the edge of town.
Quietly exiting it, she walked into the town with a bright smile, a feeling of acceptance growing in her heart with each step she took.
A memory that never was.
The broken smile grew larger as an awkward laugh escaped her mouth. Taking a deep breath, Catina turned her head upward, finally managing to speak. With closed eyes, she whispered to herself, “Just a bit more…”
Wiping her face with her palms, she slowly got up. Feeling a sense of weakness in her knees, she breathed deeply, attempting to regain her balance.
Leaning on the wooden chair, memories of previous towns and villages lodged themselves in her mind—escaping persecution and running before it even took place.
Remembering a promise of places that would accept her heritage, she breathed deeply and silently said to herself, “I just need to wait a bit, and everything will get better. I'll find somewhere else and live there! They won't call me a pagan, and everything will be fine!” She nervously laughed as a feeling of weightlessness took hold of her, as if the mere thought of a better future made her body lighter.
Slowly pulling her stiletto knife out of its sheath, she stared at its blade, focusing her thoughts. “I'll get out, find somewhere else, and everything will be fine,” she reassured herself, thinking about a hopeful future as tears once again rolled down her face.
Despite her heart still beating fast her thoughts calmed, leaving only a single one in her mind, escape.
“I'll just make a bit of a mess, yes, they'll come here, and I'll already be on Jijo!” she rationalized to herself. “They won't find me here, and everything will be fine! At worst, it'll be a broken door, and that's it!” she rambled, trying to make sense of her plan.
Adjusting her grip on the cloth surrounding the hilt of the stiletto, she breathed calmly and walked to the door.
Standing in front of it, the traveller felt the air around her hands and hilt. She calculated its volume and density in her head, beginning an ancient practice passed down to her.
A ritual.
Attempting to avoid the blade, Catina gripped the hilt tighter, as if trying to make it an extension of herself.
Calculating ancient formulas in her head, she felt her body begin to drain of its strength, as if every ounce of it were flowing toward the air surrounding her hands and the hilt.
Slowly condensing the air around the stiletto’s blade, she grew more and more exhausted. She breathed slowly, concentrating solely on maintaining the ritual.
Nearly at its end, she heard a voice calling to her from beyond the door, “Per favore, esci. Padre Celso vuole parlarti.”
Feeling as if her heart had sunk, the traveller ignored it and gathered her senses. Only a single step remained to complete the ritual.
“Duc me ad regnum venti.”
She spoke in a near-whisper, uttering a phrase in an ancient tongue, finalising the ritual.
The concentrated air surged forward, nearly knocking the door off its hinges and crashing into the source of the voice behind it, while pushing Catina back.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself forward, leaving the room and running toward the inn's entrance.
Feeling someone grab her leg, she fell to the ground. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw the town guard, sent by the priest, bruised and breathing heavily, attempting to subdue her.
The pair struggled on the floor before the guard pulled a knife from a small sash tied to his thigh and stabbed the traveller's left calf, causing her to scream in pain.
Instantly, she wildly swung her right arm, striking the guard's upper jaw. The blow rattled his brain within his skull, giving him a concussion and knocking him out.
“He's just out, he'll be fine!” Catina said to herself. Pulling her waterskin from her bag, she poured water over the wound on her calf, screaming in pain once again. Quickly ensuring the wound was clean, she took the guard's sash and tied it around the injury.
She slowly got up, eventually leaning on her right leg. Feeling exhausted, she limped toward the entrance, completely ignoring the frightened elderly innkeeper in the corner of the room.
Noticing her panicked companion, she slowly raised her arms, causing him to calm. She hugged his neck and said in a weak voice, “I'm so sorry, I’m so sorry…”
Jijo lowered his head, in turn calming Catina.
Walking to his side, she struggled to get up on the saddle before eventually succeeding. She then lightly squeezed her thighs, causing her companion to trot.
Noticing the night’s veil take form over the starry sky, the traveller felt as if the moon, rising from the north, was pushing her forward and away from the town.
Eventually she reached its southern border and urged Jijo to go faster, causing him to run down a road parting the plateau's southern vineyard.
Leaving another town behind the pair, and moving towards the region's large forest and an uncertain future.
Entering the forest, Catina felt as if the night's veil had lifted, and the path ahead of her brimmed with life.
Seeing that the town behind her had disappeared into the horizon, the traveller urged Jijo to slow his pace, attempting to conserve his energy.
As Catina ventured deeper into the forest, the dark sky above her became a tapestry of stars. The moon, nearing the sky's center, illuminated the forest below.
The many inhabitants of the wild roamed through the forest, paying no mind to the traveller as they went about their way.
Surrounded by pine trees, the traveller noticed a series of flat stones lodged in the ground, gradually becoming more prominent, as if guiding Catina onward.
Breathing deeply, she eventually sighed, noticing the stones before her had formed a path—a road centuries ago, for a purpose still unknown.
As the moon continued its journey across the sky, the traveller followed the path, eventually arriving at a forest clearing. Its circumference was decorated with small, ruined pillars, each intricately designed with a circular body and a flat square top.
A small pond rested on its eastern side, with a ruined ancient house on its western side.
At the center of the clearing stood a small, ruined ancient temple, one belonging to an old faith.
A solid stone roof with a rectangular base rose upward to an intricately designed pediment, depicting a small hooded figure gently laying a hand over two praying figures on either side, supported by thin pillars identical to the ones surrounding the clearing, yet twice Catina's height.
A small altar for a deity nearly forgotten by time stood at the temple's center—a delicately built small stone throne surrounded by decaying offerings of blood and plants.
The toll time had taken upon it was clear to Catina, as the rear part was nearly sinking into a small hill behind it, while the front was in disrepair, with several of its pillars half broken and close to crumbling.
Stopping her companion before the temple's entrance, Catina carefully dismounted, yet immediately collapsed as her wound reopened, causing her to scream in pain.
Gathering her strength, she quickly grabbed a pinecone lying nearby and slowly got up, limping toward the altar.
It's supposed to be a good one, it has a temple, it'll help.
Reaching the altar, she slowly knelt and lowered her head in front of the figure seated upon the stone throne.
The figure was childlike in size, yet its presence radiated the essence of an ancient being, nearly lost to time.
Slightly elevating her head, the traveller stared at the figure. It wore a crimson hood that covered its entire body, and its apparent skin was stretched and seemingly fused with the fabric.
Lacking any lower appendages, the figure's body consisted only of a small torso, a head, and arms, all seemingly grafted to its hood through the fused skin.
The figure's face was skull-like, lacking both a nose and lips. Not a single breath entered its body as its blank eyes stared at the traveller before it.
A sense of dread and reverence filled her heart as a single weak-toned sentence escaped her lips, “Genie Cucullate, I've come to bargain.”
The figure continued to stare intently at the traveller before it, waiting for her to continue.
Taking off her leg sash, Catina watched as her wound continued to bleed. Her hands shook slightly as her breathing quickened, struggling to suppress her pain.
Grabbing the blood-soaked leg sash and pinecone, she placed her palms above her lowered head, saying, “To you, Ferrer Finis’s messenger, I bring an offering of nature’s flesh and man’s blood; I wish only to be blessed by your grace and to be healed.”
The figure grabbed the traveller's offerings with its hood-infused hands before biting off the sash with its sharp rotten teeth, only taking in the blood-soaked part and biting off the pinecone’s scales, seemingly accepting her offering before tossing away the leftovers.
“Please… help me…” she pleaded, while showing her wound to the figure. The figure lowered its posture and extended its hand forward, grabbing her left calf and causing the traveller to scream and nearly fall.
It then quickly launched its hand at her face, forcibly silencing her. With tears forming, she watched as the figure, in a near-silent tone, uttered unknown words.
A language unknown to man, lost to time, was the only thing Catina heard. The words were incomprehensible to any who heard them, their mere mention making her feel as if her ears bled.
As her pain and fear grew, a sharp, painful sensation was felt in her leg. She quickly looked down as she felt her muscles slightly grow while reattaching themselves, slowly stopping the bleeding.
Her breathing slowed as less and less air entered her lungs, slowly suffocated by the hand clutching her face.
Starting to feel her head grow lighter, a single thought passed through her mind: Everything will be fine…
Ending the ritual, the figure threw Catina backward, allowing her to breathe once more. She quickly looked at her leg, seeing her wound completely shut, with only a faint scar left in its place.
Looking at the figure, she watched as it slowly raised its right hand, pointing at the ruined house, seemingly directing her.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!” she yelled as a sense of reverence grew within her.
She quickly turned and ran toward her nervous companion, hugging and calming him down.
“The gods really did bless me…” she said in a near-whispering tone as she took Jijo's reins and walked toward the ruined house.
After ordering her companion to stay put by the house’s half-ruined wall, the traveller gathered fallen sticks and stones, built a small campfire, and ignited it with a strike-a-light and flint.
Pulling out two pieces of prosciutto, she ate them while looking at the stars.
Then, with a slightly broken tone, she told her companion, “I know today was bad, but we can try again tomorrow. We'll find somewhere else, right?” Without waiting for his response, she added, “We will…”
“I’m going to wash myself. Eat something before you go to sleep.” Catina then walked to the pond. A shiver ran up her spine as she passed the temple, prompting her to take a few quicker steps.
Standing in front of the pond, she crouched and dipped her right palm into the water, finding its lukewarm touch relaxing. She removed her cloak, clothes, and undergarments before stepping into the pond.
While washing her body, she glanced at a pair of similar scars on her right shoulder and left forearm—mementos from other towns.
Feeling clean, she left the pond and dried herself with the cloak's exterior. After fully drying off, she dug a small hole to relieve herself, then put her undergarments and clothes back on, carrying the cloak over her shoulder.
Walking toward the house and sleeping companion, past the temple, she glanced at the throne, noticing the myriad of offerings lying beneath it. As a broken smile spread across her face, a thought sparked in her mind—they were here too.
Lying by the campfire, Catina set her leather shoes aside and held her stiletto in her right hand before wrapping herself in her cloak, using it as a makeshift blanket and letting it dry by the fire.
Feeling more tired as the minutes passed, the traveller eventually closed her eyes. With a single tear rolling down her face, a quiet sentence left her mouth before she finally fell asleep: “I'll try again tomorrow…”
The sun rose from the north over the horizon of the Malvasia region, casting a curtain of light over its lush forest.
The pine trees cast dark, spiky shadows onto a large clearing deep within the forest.
In the clearing lay a traveller wearing a long-sleeved brown shirt and a wide green riding skirt, both made from linen.
Her face was covered by her wavy, coal-black hair. Her eyelids covered her hazel-colored eyes, while saliva dripped from her narrowly opened lips onto the cloak wrapping her.
Sleeping next to her horse. A linen bag, leather shoes and a rondinellain stiletto knife lay near, her fingers wrapped around its hilt as if readying herself for combat.
A slight breeze touched the blades of grass around her, carrying the pine wood aroma to her nose, waking her up to a new day.
As the traveller rose from the ground, her gaze settled on a narrow path leading to a small village outside the forest.
A feeling of longing washed over her while feeling the wind blowing behind her, as if urging her forward.
She raked the ashes from the campfire near her over the remaining embers before stomping them out with her worn leather shoes, leaving the soles slightly grey in color.
After stretching her aching body, the traveller took a small sip from her waterskin and brushed her teeth with the cuff of her right sleeve before turning to her horse and gently petting her companion, signalling her intent to depart.
After putting her stiletto in its scabbard, the traveller tied the leather belt connected to it around her waist, letting it rest on her left hip.
After checking her bag, she put it over her left shoulder, letting it rest on her back.
“Jijo, let's go,” she told her companion as she mounted his back. She then squeezed her legs, urging him to trot.
Focusing her sight on the path before her, a gentle smile appeared on her face. A feeling of worry mixed with calmness washed over her as countless thoughts began to fill her mind.
Attempting to clear her mind, she stared at the clouded sky above her. Eventually, only a single thought remained in her mind:
Again…