It took multiple tubs of water and several rounds of vigorous scrubbing to remove all the dried blood and grime caked onto Freja’s skin and her stained uniform. Helina and Embla worked together to get Freja back to a clean and far less smelly state. She had spent the better part of a week in a musky troll cave. She had not realized how terrible she must have smelled. As the grime came away she felt far less embarrassed.
Bjorn was washed after her and it was a far simpler task. Everything seemed to slide effortlessly off his gleaming scales. He looked as pristine as the day he was born and he really liked the warm water to the point he didn’t want to leave. Anytime she tried to pull him out he would hold onto the sides until she gave up. Meanwhile, Helina meticulously cleaned the staff, scrubbing away the crusted blood.
She caught both of the ladies looking at her now scarred body, especially her left arm and right leg. She also had scars across her midsection and ribs. Since the healing potion she drank first was not strong enough to completely heal her, she would retain these scars unless she visited a healer. By the time Freja slipped into her second-to-last clean uniform, Embla was already tying back her freshly brushed hair into a short ponytail.
During the brief respite Freja had the time to examine the two women as well. Embla was definitely a scholar and not a warrior, she like Freja, didn’t seem to have the build for it. Though it didn’t mean she was weak by any means, snowfallen were lithe even when physically strong. Freja also caught her whispering a spell that caused thin tendrils of shadows to collect Freja’s freshly clean uniform to float in the air as if on a clothesline.
The action caught both her and Bjorn’s attention. The Darkness Magic Discipline was far from rare for the wendigo. In fact it was the most common that wendigo had an affinity towards. For Freja it was the ease at which Embla cast her magic. Her aura was so constricted and dense that it made Freja realize that Embla really was a Fræðikona and despite how nice she was being, she was still dangerous.
Freja would be extra careful not to get on her bad side. Then Helina returned Freja's staff and Embla’s eyes widened. She obviously recognized the druid made war staff. Her calm demeanor changed as she walked over and snatched the staff from Freja’s grip. She looked over the weapon and even surged mana into it to verify its make. Her calm demeanor faded, brows furrowed and gaze became piercing.
“Where did you get this blasphemer’s staff?” Embla asked, holding the item and looking it up and down. “Why do you have this?”
Freja shrunk down and averted eye contact. Helina stepped between Embla and Freja meanwhile Bjorn leapt from the tub and hissed menacingly.
“Th-there was a druid in the woods.” Freja said, her voice soft. “He was turning into a treant.”
“There is a treant out there and you didn’t mention it?” Embla accused. “You took its staff and ran when the Forest Father gave you a trial?”
“I did not abandon any trials,” Freja replied solemnly, her voice steadier now. “There was a druid. I did my duty as a wendigo and killed him, Maiden Embla.”
Embla’s accusatory expression faltered, replaced by disbelief as her brow arched high. She stared at Freja for a long moment before speaking.
“I will have to verify that.” Embla handed Freja back the staff. “Excuse me.” She walked off urgently.
After Embla left, Helina finally led Freja back to the rest of the caravan. Freja was glad the goblin woman didn’t ask anymore questions about the incident with the druid. As they approached the fire, Owen immediately noticed their return and promptly smacked one of his sons on the back of the head, jerking a thumb toward the bath. The two boys leapt up and began packing away the washing supplies.
“Ah, so there is a girl under all that mud,” purred a deep, resonant voice. The tiger man stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I didn’t introduce myself earlier. My name is Joha Bhatia. I took the liberty of retrieving the items you dropped—they’re over there.” He gestured toward a new chair by the fire, where a cup of water, and her druidic combat knife were neatly arranged. “Join us. Please, eat.”
“Sabec has finished preparing your meal,” announced the gnoll, stepping forward with a broad grin. He extended a skewer of meat toward Freja. “Seasoned meat for a new friend. Eat, eat, yes?”
Freja hesitated for a moment before bowing her head slightly in gratitude and accepting the offering. The aroma was intoxicating—smoky, savory, and spiced with an exotic blend of seasonings she couldn’t identify. She settled near her belongings as Sabec presented Bjorn with a wooden plate of unseasoned meat, which the familiar eagerly began to devour.
A twinge of disappointment flickered through Freja. She preferred her meat raw, finding the natural flavors more satisfying. Still, when she took her first bite, her eyes widened in surprise. The meat was seared only on the outside, its smoky crust complementing the tender, raw interior. The combination of textures and spices was nothing short of heavenly. She glanced up at Sabec, who gave her a thumbs-up. She returned the gesture with a small smile.
“So, is he your pet?” Joha asked, puffing leisurely on his pipe.
“He’s a familiar,” Helina interjected before Freja could respond, her mouth still full. “They’re different from pets.”
“Oh? How so?” Joha asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity. “We don’t have familiars in my country.”
“It’s a wendigo and druid connection-to-nature thing,” Helina explained with a casual wave. “Their magic casters bond with animals, making them stronger.”
Freja considered correcting her but decided against it. Helina wasn’t entirely wrong, though she’d simplified the truth. The ability to summon and contract a familiar wasn’t exclusive to wendigo or druids; any skilled magic caster could perform the ritual with the proper knowledge. However, wendigo and druids had a much higher success rate, often leading others to mistakenly believe it was an innate ability tied to their nature. In truth, the connection stemmed from the Forest Father, not nature itself—a subtle but significant distinction. Freja doubted she had more of a connection to nature than anyone else in the caravan, given her preference for life indoors. Recent events had certainly upended that routine.
After taking a sip of water, Freja looked to Joha. “Where are you from? I’ve never seen anyone of your species before.”
“I hail from Hashvenel, a land far across the sea,” Joha said. “It is the homeland of the rakshasa—demon shapeshifters, as some call us.”
The smoke he breathed out seemed to grow thicker until his entire form was obscured. The smoke opened for a second and he was a young human boy with black hair and eyes. The smoke closed and opened and he was a beautiful female wendigo with bleach-white antlers. The smoke closed again and he appeared as a red furred monkey man with four arms. Then the smoke dissipated and he was again in his normal tiger form with four horns.
The weird part of it all was Freja didn’t feel any magic from Joha as he transformed. Leaving her to wonder if it was magic or something else. The tiger man laughed at her bemusement as he sat down next to the fire. Sabec handed him a meat skewer, and in return Joha filled his cup from a glass of ale that appeared in his hands out of the air.
“So where are you headed, young one?” Joha asked.
“I-I don’t know,” Freja responded with a soft voice. “Just headed west for now.”
“Well, each of us are also going west,” Joha stated with his arms wide indicating the whole group. “You are welcome to tag along.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Freja responded with both hands up as if to stop him.
“You wouldn’t be any more of a burden than my lazy sons,” Helina said with a smile. “We aren’t just going to leave a girl out in the wilderness, and we can put you to work if you don’t just want a ride. The next city is the fort town of Lavi; about a four day journey. We will be making some stops in villages along the way to sell some of our wares.”
“If any of those villages suit your fancy you’re free to leave the caravan,” Joha added with another puff of his pipe. “How does that sound?”
Freja looked over the group around the fire. They were doing a lot to help her already, and she felt like she should return the favor. Work off the food and bath and transportation. She looked at Bjorn as his two heads tore into his meal. A small smile graced her lip and she looked back up at the group and took a deep breath.
“I will be in your care,” she said with a bow. “I have never worked in a caravan, so please be patient with me.”
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“I am sure you will do fine Sif,” Owen the male goblin said.
***
As things calmed down for the night it was again the goblins that helped Freja and Bjorn. Owen, the husband of Helina, along with their sons, helped set up a small tent for them. The pair was grateful and soon Freja had a safe place where she could finally rest her head. Bjorn looked over her for a while keeping an eye on the camp just in case someone tried something uncouth but his worries seemed unnecessary as everyone retreated to their own sleeping arrangement.
Freja was already fast asleep when he joined her in the tent. Tensions slowly washed away as for the first time in weeks they could sleep in relative safety. As he curled up beside her, the warmth of her body against his own helped him relax. His muscles, perpetually tense, finally began to loosen.
“Okay, Failsafe,” Bjorn thought as he settled in. “Any idea what I’m about to see?”
“Not a clue,” Failsafe replied, his tone casual yet cryptic. “But you’ll experience it like it’s happening for the first time. Every emotion, every sensation—it’ll all come flooding back. My guess? It’ll be something significant, a memory that stands out in your past.”
“Well then I guess I will see you on the other side.” Bjorn said with a yawn.
Bjorn closed his eyes, letting the weight of the day fade away. Slowly, he felt the boundaries of the present dissolve, the edges of reality blurring like a dream just out of reach.
He surrendered himself to the experience, letting the pull of the nascent soul guide him. It wasn’t abrupt or disorienting. Instead, it felt natural, as though a part of him had been waiting for this moment. There were no grand theatrics, no flashes of light or resounding echoes—just a quiet unraveling as who he was in the present moment slipped away.
The dream beckoned, reaching through the veils of time, and Bjorn followed.
***
The breeze was gentle, the floral smell of flowers and the warmth of the suns overhead kissed the boy's skin. The rustling of the grass was calming and the sound of the creek trickling with water only added to the ambiance. The boy was no older than twelve with curly, sandy brown hair. He opened his eyes, which looked like diamonds sparkling in the light. He saw aether wisp in the air, singing its unheard song which held everything together like great strings from the sky.
“Hey guys, he’s over here,” a familiar voice called, and the pattering of feet soon drew closer.
The boy smiled and the aether vanished, his eyes returning to their normal dark brown. He sat up and saw his friends rushing down the riverbank to join him. Martin, the oldest by two years and often the leader of their group. Pavel, the son of the baker and most well dressed, his linen garb being the only in the group with colorful beads. Jiri, his best friend who would stand out of a crowd because of his red hair, the only one in the village beside his dad with the odd color.
“I told you I knew where he was,” Jiri said as he ran.
Jiri tripped and started tumbling, only to fall into the resting boy. The two would have fallen into the creek if not for the quick actions of Martin, who held out his hand causing the wind to catch the two boys. They hovered right above the water and slowly floated back to the shore where they were abruptly dropped.
“Wow, you’ve gotten really good,” Pavel said.
Martin puffed out his chest a little. “Yeah, that was really good wasn’t it? My dad is the town magecrafter so it only makes sense I would be able to do it, too.” He approached the two boys on the ground. “Are you two okay?”
The boy with sandy brown hair sat up, untangling himself from Jiri with sparkles in his eye. “Can you do that again, Martin?”
“Yeah. I was floating for a minute,” Jiri agreed.
“I can’t, we’ll need magecraft to do you know what today,” Martin stated.
“Oh yeah,” the boy with the sandy brown hair responded.
Pavel looked unsure. “Are you guys really sure about this? The grown ups always said-”
Martin cut him off. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. You can go back to the bakery and if anyone is looking for us just tell them we’re down at the creek.”
Pavel looked towards the boy with the sandy brown hair, no doubt looking for backup in saying it was a bad idea. However the boy with the sandy brown hair wanted to go see the gate for himself. It may have been outside the village, but not very far. It wasn’t like they would get lost, since he could just follow the aether back home. He thought Martin was right; Pavel could just stay here if he didn’t want to go. Pavel then looked to Jiri, but no luck there either.
“Fine, I’ll go, but how are we going to get out of the village anyway?” Pavel asked.
Martin smiled and walked up to the boy with sandy brown hair, throwing a hand over his shoulder.
“Okay, show them,” Martin said.
“You guys can’t tell anyone, okay? I am serious, my mom said not to tell anyone,” the boy responded, a little embarrassed.
His eyes changed color, the pupils and iris becoming clear jewels that looked more like a sparkling diamonds than eyes. Jiri and Pavel were both in awe; his eyes were the same as the divine people from the sky. The boy quickly changed his eyes back to normal and blinked a few times.
“I can see the aether and I know where all of the alarms are,” the boy with sandy brown hair said quietly.
“Woah!” Jiri exclaimed. “How long have you been able to do that?”
“That’s awesome,” Pavel stated.
Martin huddled everyone together so they wouldn’t be speaking too loud.
“We already scouted out a spot we can all get through with my wind magecraft,” Martin continued, looking at each of his friends. “From there it’ll only take a few minutes to get to the gate. We see the gate, and we come right back. No one will know. It is not like anything will go wrong. So, you guys ready?”
The village was small, with only twenty or so families. Wheat grew in abundance year round, and cows, chicken and other farm animals grazed happily on the wide pastures. The stream brought fresh water from far beyond the gate, out in the dangerous world the adults always warned about. In here was safety while out there was where the monsters hid.
Children weren’t allowed outside of the village, and especially not near the gate. However, that never stopped the young boys’ curiosity. They all wanted to see what the gate was, and waiting until they turned sixteen seemed like an eternity. It wasn't like there were any monsters inside the gate.
A stone wall encircled the village, which according to the elders was built long before the divine people blessed them with the gate. The massive structure was an edifice to a time of strife and fear, when people had to fight to survive. Even given its age the wall stood strong. It was thirty feet high with only one way in or out.
The boys of course could not take the proper entrance as the adults wouldn’t let them. Luckily, thanks to Martin’s wind magic they had another way out. All they needed to do was look out for any of the magical alarms placed near the wall. Which was done easily enough as they had their own secret weapon for detecting magical traps.
The boy with sandy brown hair could see the aether swirl around invisible nodes on the ground and along the wall. To his sight each was a kaleidoscope of power and potential that sung to him in unheard whispers. He pointed out the locations where the nodes were active; not many of them were since there was no need for them in this peaceful place.
“Okay, everyone hold onto me,” Martin said as he held out his arms. “I’m going to take us over.”
“That is really high guys, are you all sure about this?” Pavel asked almost pleadingly.
Martin facepalmed. “Divines, Pavel, just stay here if you’re chicken. Keep a look out for us.”
“Fine-fine, I’ll go-I’ll go, but I still think this is stupid,” Pavel stated.
The group huddled up close to the wall as Martin channeled his magic. It was subtle at first, the wind becoming a breeze then a gale. All at once they started to lift off the ground, hanging precariously in the air by the force of the wind alone. Then they shot upward over the thirty-foot wall. On the other side all they saw was a dark forest to greet them.
The trip back down was far less controlled than the launch; immediately they hit a branch and the group split as they fell. Martin was the only one that made it to the ground, his wind magic failing in the last second causing him to fall on his butt. Everyone else got stuck in the tree.
It took everyone a few minutes to climb down, but aside from a few scratches everyone was okay. From there it wouldn’t take too long to reach the gate. The overgrown forest was dark but there wasn’t any reason to be afraid. There were no predators, venomous animals or monsters in the gate so the boys marched on. The most dangerous part was already over; now all they had to do was see the gate and get back before someone noticed they were gone.
Martin led the charge through the brush, using a stick he found to beat back some of the foliage. There were no paths or roads to get them to the gate but it didn’t matter. They could feel it in the air. Aether saturated the world in color; bright streams of magic crackled. The gate was impossible to miss at this point, and soon they saw it. The edge of the gate. It looked like a nearly clear dome of rainbows shimmering with the celestial symbols of the divine people from the sky. Unknown aetheric formulae from the higher planes winked in and out.
“We made it guys!” Martin yelled in celebration. “See, it wasn’t that bad, was it Pavel?”
Pavel didn’t respond; he was wonderstruck with his mouth wide open. Jiri found a rock and threw it at the gate, only for it to bounce right back and hit him in the chest. The point of impact on the gate caused waves like water to spread out in every direction.
“Ouch!” Jiri exclaimed.
“Oh let me try,” Martin said as he dropped his stick and found a rock.
Soon everyone was finding rocks and throwing them at the barrier. Even making a game of it, seeing who could do trick shots by bouncing rocks off the gate to hit trees and sticks they set up.
“Think I can touch it?” Jiri asked as he walked up to the barrier with a stick.
Before anyone could stop him he was already poking at the barrier. He dropped the stick when there was no reaction and reached out with his hand. This time the boy with sandy brown hair stopped him. However, now that he was so close to the gate he couldn’t help but use his aetheric eyes to look more closely at it. He hadn’t attempted since the aether was already so prominent here everyone could see it.
When he did he felt a compulsion to get closer, and soon he was the one touching the gate. Something felt familiar, like he had come into contact with this exact aether before. No, more like he had come into contact with the source of this aether. The divine person that made it; the creator of the barrier. With his jewel eyes he could feel the aether bend to him; it recognized him just as much as he recognized it. He probed the gate with aether of his own and felt something inside it shift, then wink out of existence. The gate vanished all at once. On the other side they didn't see forest, they saw monsters.