Hermera

The 17th of Mounichion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

“Let’s go through it one more time, if you please, Theodorous,” Lyssa said, rubbing her eyes.

She and the steward sat in front of a roaring fireplace in the village hall, sipping tea. They had both found it to be a comfortable way to collaborate away from their workstations. Lyssa had grown to hate the sight of her desk, knowing it served mostly to trap her under a mountain of administrative duties.

“The scouts sent to Mount Hyperion reported there’s good stone in enough quantity to create a mine or quarry. Such a venture is also likely to happen upon metal veins and perhaps even precious gems, but is not without its dangers. The miners would need armed protection, as the mountain is too far from the village itself to guarantee safety.”

They’d been through this conversation at least twice already, but had yet to come to a decision on how to proceed. Wood was in abundance, thanks to the bounty of the Sylv, but stone was a necessary construction material and only reliably sourced from the nearby mountain, which was over an hour’s walk away.

“We can hardly guarantee safety for the village itself,” Lyssa said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into her voice.

Theodorous let out a heavy breath and nodded. This, too, was on script.

“Indeed, however we don’t have many guards to spare on protection details for miners. Most of our guards are still Novices in their respective fighting styles, averaging level fifteen, and not all of them have combat-oriented professions. Monsters sighted in the vicinity of Mount Hyperion were estimated to be in the high-teens to mid-twenties. Though, without engaging, it is difficult to tell.”

“We need that quarry. With it we could build reinforced housing, proper walls, and much more.”

“I don’t disagree, Archousa, but we cannot guarantee the safety of our workers.”

Lyssa pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I will speak with the dwarves. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Theodorous bowed his head.

“As you wish, Archousa.”

“Tell me again how many we number.”

“We have two-hundred-four villagers, Archousa. Of that number, thirty-three are guards, eighteen are crafters or traders, eleven are hunters, fifteen are farmers, twenty are children, and the remaining one-hundred-seven are of various different jobs too few to categorize by themselves. Healers, carpenters, cooks, ourselves, the rest of your council, and so on.”

Lyssa sipped at a cup of pomegranate tea as Theodorous listed off the numbers. So many people, yet not nearly enough.

“Thirty-three guards is not enough to provide adequate protection to the village. Even if we include the hunters in that number, there is simply too much ground to cover and it would risk our food supply. Splitting our protection will be a risk. One that I don’t know that I can abide, not without a better idea of what threats lie in our area. Have the scouts made any progress on mapping the territory?”

“Not much, I’m afraid, Archousa. None of the hunters are cartographers and, though they seem to be confident in their surveys, they haven’t been able to produce much by way of maps.”

“A pity. Do we have any cartographers in the village?”

Theodorous produced a ledger from his inventory and consulted it, quickly scanning through page after page of details about each of the villagers.

“Aside from Arche, who I haven’t interviewed yet, no. None have listed that among their skills.”

“Of course. We’ll need to remedy that, even if it involves people learning it on their own. We need to have accurate maps, not only of our own territories but of routes to neighboring areas. Dawnwood is to the west, we should be wary of straying into their lands unintentionally. What’s more, I want to know what terrain lies between us and this city of Ship’s Shape. I foresee the need for trade in our future and I do not want our merchant caravans waylaid by bandits, monsters, or perilous ground.”

“Yes, Archousa.”

“Those farmers, have them take the land upstream near the river to plant their crops. We can divert water as necessary to water their fields, but we’ll need to rely on steady food before long. We have a couple gaiamancers who should be able to speed along that process. Any adult who does not have a job should be at the guards training area. This is a frontier village and I need every able-bodied adult to be capable of fighting.”

“Yes, Archousa. I anticipate there will be resistance from those who have other duties that are not quite a job.”

“Any person with complaints can submit them. Parents rearing or bearing children will be exempt, naturally. Other concerns, we will manage as they come. Once more of our people are capable of protecting themselves, we can extend our focus outward.”

“It will be done, Archousa. Now, if we might move on to the matter of funding.”

Lyssa sighed, standing from her seat to stretch. They had been at it for hours. Despite covering a plethora of logistical issues, they still faced an endless supply. Theodorous was steadfast and quickly proved his ability by dealing with any issues that did not require Lyssa’s direct attention, freeing her to contemplate the future of their development.

“Might we move on to dinner, instead? I can hear instruments playing.”

“Of course, Archousa, I must admit I am a bit peckish myself, but I finally have some good news on the terms of our finances.”

“Oh?”

“The catalogue of dwarven relics recovered has been completed well ahead of schedule. By average price estimates, we should have enough to cover our current operating costs for Myriatos for three years. What’s more, the estimate is entirely based on mundane artifacts. There were a small number of magical items acquired as well.”

“Those are not for sale. Have a list of those items and their effects drafted for me,” Lyssa said. “That dungeon was home to powerful creatures and at least one powerful artifact. The last thing we need right now is a magical disaster.”

“I will have it ready for you by tomorrow morning, Archousa.”

“Don’t overwork yourself, Theo.”

“Your concern is appreciated, but be assured I am quite well. There are still a few documents to finish up, but nothing I can’t handle. Good evening.”

Theodorous stood from his chair and made his way back to his desk, settling in behind stacks of parchment. Lyssa finished the rest of her tea and left, craving the fresh air. She’d been cooped up indoors for far too long. She was a Huntress, she needed nature and the outdoors like she needed breathing. Night was upon them, and the light of Tartarus’s two moons, Selene and Agrotera, washed the world in cyan.

The scent of grilled venison made Lyssa’s mouth water. It had been weeks since she last hunted. The simplicity of that lifestyle seemed ephemeral when compared to the endless administrative decisions she was now forced to make. With no infrastructure to build from and no standing systems to make the village sustainable, she and Theodorous worked tirelessly to keep the village going.

They’d quickly faced pushback on a few of her edicts. She had quickly learned that not all individuals were accepting of the communal way in which Dawnwood had operated. A mixed settlement meant mixed rules. Each person brought a different viewpoint and a different culture that had to be considered. It had been a steep learning curve and she wasn’t done yet. Her initial idea of doing away with paying villagers altogether had met an unyielding barrier in the form of Tess, who told her the village would kill her for trying. Money was such a short-sighted, human concept. If something was for the good of all, then it should be done for the good of all. Why couldn’t they see that?

A figure stepped out of the shadows of a nearby tent, falling into lockstep with her. Lyssa unfurled her hand from the handle of a hidden dagger.

“You must have had a long day, indeed,” Elpida said quietly, “if you didn’t see me approach.”

Lyssa allowed herself a smile, feeling some of the tension in her back dissipate.

“I was wondering if you were going to skulk in the shadows all night or if you were going to join me for the evening meal.”

“A meal, eh? I can manage that.”

Long tables and benches were arranged outside the nearly constructed insula. Cooking fires cast a rich glow over the entire area and the smell of venison and soup wafted through the air. Many of the villagers were already seated, chatting amongst themselves and waiting for the cooks to start serving. The first round of dinner had been called an hour before and the second was nearly ready. Lyssa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the soup. Carrots, marrow, cardoons, celery, and leeks, all added to boiling broth, seasoned with coriander, mint, and thyme. Lyssa could practically taste it. One of the cooks picked up a small bell and gave it a ring. As one, villagers lined up with bowls in hand before making their way back to their tables in high spirits.

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“How much longer do you think it’ll be like this?” Elpida asked.

“Such simple pleasures don’t last forever,” Lyssa sighed. “I’m sure as soon as the village is strong enough to stand on its own two feet, the communal meals will be over and people will start to procure their own food, whether by sale or capture.”

“More likely sale than capture,” Elpida replied, eyeing the others. “Most of them are unaccustomed to providing for themselves. In the city, food is available at stores and prepared at home. They import it from places like this one. No one hunts their own meat or harvests their own vegetables.”

“And that’s preferable to them?” Lyssa frowned.

“I don’t know that it’s preferable, but it’s what they’re used to. I don’t know what system works better in the long run. As it is, enough food to feed over a hundred people three meals a day? That’s a lot of food. The hunters are doing what they can, but it won’t be long before they have to stray further into the Sylv.”

Lyssa nodded. It seemed not even an evening meal was an escape from the constant weight of village administration.

“We need sustainable food sources. I’ve already asked Theodorous to assign farmers to that task, but crops take time to grow. The hunters will have to continue gathering what food they can and store it for future use. I’ll ask them to start snaring creatures, if possible. If we can take some alive, we may be able to breed our own food stores.”

“I’m sorry.” Elpida winced. “I didn’t mean to get you focused back on work. Come on, let’s let it go for one night.”

Lyssa shook her head, as if that would clear her thoughts, and smiled.

“I’ll grab the table if you grab the food.”

“That’s not quite how ‘bodyguarding’ works,” Elpida said, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you said we’d let it go. I doubt anything I’ve done so far has been serious enough to warrant assassination. In any case, I’m armed and in public. By the time we get through this line, all the tables will be taken.”

“Then you should be impressed by my foresight.” A smug expression slid across Elpida’s face as she held out her hands, producing two bowls of stew from her inventory.

Lyssa’s eyes bounced between the bowls and Elpida.

“When did you have the time?”

She took a bowl and nearly melted at the smell of it, stomach gurgling with desire.

“I didn’t. I had one of my prospects grab food for us because I knew you’d be working late again. I’ve taste-tested it already. It’s not poisoned.”

“Good. I’d rather not have to find a replacement for you just yet.”

“I’m flattered.” Elpida placed one hand gently on her collar and gave a slight bow.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Lyssa muttered.

“Hm?”

“Nothing!” A green flush spread across Lyssa’s cheeks, one she sincerely hoped would go unnoticed in the shadows of the night. “Let’s eat.”

Lyssa walked toward a vacant table, setting off so abruptly that Elpida had to jog a few steps to catch up.

“Are we expecting any company tonight?” Lyssa asked, eager to change the subject.

“No plans, if that’s what you mean. Gigator’s had his hands full with training the guards and he’ll probably roll around to finish off whatever’s left in the pots. Vik has been training his recruits in secret somewhere out in the Sylv. He won’t share with anybody who he’s picked for the role. I guess he wants them to be secret even from the rest of us. Arche was training with the guards, last I saw. Tessalyn was talking with some of the merchants and traders as of an hour ago. Not sure what Helwan is up to, I believe he was in his room. Probably taking it easy after their trek.”

“If anyone ever gives you the opportunity to run a community, don’t do it,” Lyssa said between bites of stew. “You’ll never get a moment’s peace again.”

“It’s pretty peaceful right now.”

“Is it? I can hear two dozen conversations, ranging from complaints about the living situation all the way down to arguments over whether or not Agrotera is brighter than Selene. It isn’t. This village is nothing but noise.”

Elpida’s eyes went wide.

“You really hear all of that?”

Lyssa ran a finger along one of her ears, feeling the scarred mass of flesh from where it had been sheared. It had healed, but it wasn’t whole. A reminder of what it meant to be exiled. A reminder of what she’d done to her brother.

“I know they don’t mean to be loud, but I hear all of it. I don’t know how Vik stands it.”

“I would say he tunes it out but, knowing Vik, that’s not likely.”

“I’d like to know more about you three if I can. I know a little of your previous employment, but almost no details.”

Elpida shifted in her seat, considering as she chewed through a bite of venison.

“Very well, I suppose you’ve earned as much. You have to know someone to trust them, after all.”

Lyssa waited patiently as Elpida gathered her thoughts.

“I started off in the military. Nothing special, just a footsoldier in King Tantalus’s service, way out east. I left after a few years; wasn’t a good fit. That’s when I fell in with the Blackdog Pirates.”

“I would not have taken you for a pirate.”

“Few would take any of that crew to be pirates. Learned folk from all walks of life, mages and scholars, thieves and renounced lords alike worked the decks under Captain Ryan Blackdog.”

“Ryan? What a strange name.”

“He’s a strange elf. Too observant, too other. Never seen his like. Arche reminds me of him, sometimes. Similar mannerisms. But where Arche’s naïve, Ryan is almost too worldly.”

“I’m not sure what to make of that.”

“Not many are, honestly. Anyway, I worked with him and his for a while. It was pretty steady, honestly. We weren’t typical pirates in that we didn’t go around marauding and pillaging. In actuality, we were a shipping company with strange branding. Merchants used us to deliver wares across the Sea of Storms. Ryan is the only captain I know of, pirate or otherwise, who could navigate through it without fail every time.”

“So you were a soldier, then a pirate who wasn’t actually a pirate?”

“For a few years, yes. That’s where I met Vik and Gigator. We grew tired of sailing and looked for other work. Vik got it into our heads to become mercenaries, so we did. That went pretty smoothly, actually, until we got hired by Buteo for additional security for his village. The pay wasn’t bad and Vik said he had a feeling it would be interesting, so here we are. Granted, of course, we’re a bit more involved than a simple job, now.”

“You must have seen much of the world,” Lyssa said quietly.

“More than my fair share, no doubt. Cities and townships I can no longer put names to. Monsters that lurk deep out in the ocean that look as though they could swallow the sun. More people of different types than I could imagine on my own. What about you? Surely you’ve had your own sights.”

“Not really. I grew up in Dawnwood. Elven children are rare. Our primary concern is the survivability of our species, so we take great care in raising our young. I was much the same way. I was fed on stories of the danger of the outside world. The farthest I’ve been from home is the ground on which I stand.”

Elpida’s eyebrows shot up.

“So the first time you really saw non-elves was when you came here?”

A darkness crossed Lyssa’s eyes. The wood of the table creaked as her hand clenched around its edge.

“I didn’t say that. Dawnwood was attacked in the past, back when we still had dealings with the outside world. A human settlement betrayed our trust and sent their forces to invade us. Many elven lives were lost that day.”

“That’s horrible.”

“My father, Lord Cypress, rallied us and we retaliated. We killed many humans. Destroyed their entire settlement. From that day on, Dawnwood kept to itself, as did all its denizens.”

“Until you.”

“Until me.”

“How long ago was that?”

Lyssa shifted her head to one side, thinking.

“That was in the month of Boedromion, in the year forty-four thirty-seven.”

Elpida blinked a few times, pausing to count.

“A hundred and ninety-four years ago?”

“Indeed. I was still a child, barely in my twenties. It was a dark time in our history, and still fresh for many of my kin.”

“That makes you over two-hundred years old.”

“Is that surprising to you?”

Elpida shrugged.

“In some ways, yes. That’s still young for an elf, isn’t it? It’s unthinkable for a human.”

“Age among my kind is more arbitrary. The older we get, the less we keep track of such unimportant measures. An adult is typically considered and treated like an adult, regardless of age. The difference being the Council, which is composed of elves who have seen the entirety of a millennium.”

“I can’t fathom that much time,” Elpida said. “Honestly, when I heard how long elves could live, I thought it was just a rumor. Myths and legends. It wasn’t until I met elves personally that I learned it was true. A thousand years. Incredible.”

“It is our nature.”

“Tell me this, then.” Elpida straightened up. “When you said that you intend to create a foundation for this village that will last ten thousand years, did you intend to see that through?”

“Are you asking me if I intend to be alive in ten thousand years?”

“I suppose I am.”

“I don’t know if my intentions will have any effect on the reality of the situation but, for the time being, I have no plans to die.”

Elpida smiled.

“Good. I’d be out of a job.”

“We can’t have that, can we?”

“Certainly not.”

Lyssa scraped up the last portion from the bottom of her bowl. Conversations faded in and out around them. She found her gaze drifting to the children playing around the cooking fires. There were more children in Myriatos than she’d ever seen. They were so tiny and defenseless, she wondered how they could ever be allowed to roam around like that by their parents. What if they burned themselves?

A small noise, almost a sigh, brought Lyssa’s attention back to her dining partner. Elpida’s eyes were also on the children but there was a sad look in her expression. She noticed Lyssa watching and cleared her throat, nodding toward the children.

“I hope we succeed here. Not for our sake, but for theirs.”

“I hope we succeed for all of our sakes. I can’t help but feel a storm is on the way. That is the nature of Tartarus.”

“Life is conflict.” Elpida agreed. “But we must learn to find peace between the battles.”

Lyssa smiled, producing two cups and a wineskin from her inventory. She filled the cups and passed one over before raising hers high.

“To peace.”

As she drank, Lyssa wondered whether they would ever really have peace. She’d been driven from her home for killing her brother. How long would it take for her to make another fatal mistake? How long would it take these villagers to turn against her? To cast her down like they had cast down Callias Buteo? His words had burned themselves into her mind.

You think we’re here to start a new life? You think this venture was a settling colony? We’re sacrifices. All of us.

“To peace,” she echoed quietly.