There was a light in the distance, a small beacon swaying among the trees. She ran toward it, tripping over the roots and tearing her shoulders on the low branches.
As she got closer, she saw the outlines of two people, one old, the other a child. Their faint chatter became clearer, but she feared to yell for help before she reached them. She ran ahead of them and leaned against a tree with one hand to catch her breath.
"Are you all right, girl?" said the old woman, holding the lantern high above her head. "Are you lost? Why are you running?"
Elis saw the deep lines in the woman's face, hidden under the heavy blue cloth. What was in those lines was more than concern or surprise. It was fear.
The little girl slipped out from under the lantern, hiding under the cloth and peering into the darkness with only one eye.
"I ... I got lost and the wolves...I barely escaped. I have to get away from here." Elis said, feeling her pulse in her ears. "It was getting dark and I..."
"Why are you talking like that?" the old woman asked with a suspicious tone. "Where are you from?"
Elis did not understand what the woman was asking and why it mattered. But she was sure that something in the way she spoke unsettled the old woman. Her stance was hostile, from the way she held the child to the way her eyes did not leave Elis'.
She was expecting danger, Elis concluded. But before she could answer or even think of home, a storm of hooves sounded on the forest floor among the trees.
Without hesitation, the woman extinguished the lantern and looked around. She took the child by the hand and rushed toward the small ridge covered with bushes.
"Come. Quick," she whispered, covering the lantern with moss. Elis followed her, unsure if she understood why she had to hide. But in the dark forest, it seemed better to follow an old woman than a gallop of horses.
They lay silently in the wet moss while the ground shook before them. Peering through the branches, Elis could count more than a dozen riders. She heard the clash of their armor and their weapons and the reins whipping together. She heard the horses' breath and a banner cloth flying in the cold air. They rode as if on a thundercloud, and it took only a few moments for them to disappear.
"What was that?" asked Elis, fighting another rush of adrenaline.
"The Silver Riders, you mean?" The woman got back to her feet and helped the girl pluck the twigs and leaves from her hair. "How did you get here, stranger? This forest is no place for people like you. You better get out of here if you don’t want to part with life.
"Can you help me get out of here? I need to get back to Tregan."
"Tregan? Never heard of it. All I can do is get you to Brair."
A shiver ran down Elis's spine. She could not fathom just how far she had strayed. It could be much more than she thought, there was no way to know. All the trees looked the same, the right merged with the left and everywhere she turned was nothing but darkness. The only hope was right in front of her. Wherever Brair might be, it was civilization and hopefully a road that could lead her home from there.
"All right," Elis said, feeling the heat abate and the cold settling into her bones. She zipped up her jacket, crossed her arms, and hoped for a quick resolution.
"You did not answer my question. Where are you from?"
"Iorion. It's a town east of Rivenhil. I came to Tregan with friends, but I got lost in the forest. One moment they were there, the next I was alone. Then I heard the wolves. Do not you think they can still smell me?"
"Never heard of Ioron before. You sound like a vicra."
"What's that?"
"A foreigner." the old woman said, leaning forward onto the barely visible path. "Follow me."
The little girl did not say a word and did not leave the old woman's side, clutching her hand tightly. Elis could not help but wonder what misfortune had brought them there in the middle of the night.
Elis followed without hesitation, without even asking a question. She feared, at least, that staying there was worse than what was on the other side. And so she walked behind a lantern, listening to the voices of the untamed forest.
It could have been an hour, it could have been three, she did not know, and there was no way to tell the passing time. But as the trees grew apart, the air lost its heaviness and began to smell like grass instead of moss, Elis realized that the border was very close.
Before she passed the last trees, the old woman stopped and turned around. She raised her hand toward the faint light on the top of the open hill that grew before them.
"That there is the village of Brair," she said. "There is an inn there. They'll give you food and a bed if you need it. You tell ‘em Dola sent you. The road that runs through the village goes east to Livenhrit and west to Zervan. This is as far as I can take you. You'll have to find the rest on your own. Good luck."
She and the girl crept down the path toward the sun, and Elis was alone again.
The rising sun gave her comfort. But as she climbed the hill toward the fire and the bleating of the sheep, a different kind of unease began to gnaw at her throat.
A simple wooden wall surrounded the village, just large enough to keep out wolves and foxes. The houses were built of wooden planks on stone foundations and decorated at the corners with floral ornaments faded by the sun. People walked around their lots, feeding the animals and minding the simplest of chores. They hardly noticed the newcomer slipping through.
Their clothing was simple, and plain in color, making the villagers inevitably similar to one another. If anything, it belonged to another time, not unlike the houses or the simplicity of the lives those people led. It felt out of place like it had been cut out of some strange old world and placed on a hill.
Three horses lingered by the side of the inn, which stood somewhere in the middle of the village. It was bigger than anything else in the area, surrounded by a meadow and two apple trees.
"Are you all right?" asked a man who was giving hay to the horses.
"Um...," she cleared her throat. "Is this the inn?"
"The only one around here, I'm afraid," the man replied. "You're not from around here, I take it?"
"No, I'm not. I'm just passing through. Dola told me to come by."
The door of the inn flew open and a drunk in stained green pants rushed out. Finding nothing to hold onto, he leaned against Eli's and released his heavy breath on her. She tried to shrug him off, but his hand clutched her shoulder. Once he let go, he fell to the ground and vomited beside her.
A woman came out of the inn, looked around, and spotted Elis lying frozen in the grass. "Damn it, Vilver," she cried. "Pull yourself together for once. If you can't hold your liquor, don't drink."
Vilver muttered something in a stunned tongue and heavy accent before passing out. The man tending the horses pulled him away from the entrance and left him to sleep in the hay.
"I'm sorry about that," the woman said, wiping her hands on her napkin. "I'm Jarinda. This is my husband Istro," she said, pointing to the man with the horses. "Did I hear you say Dola sent you?"
"Yes," Elis replied with renewed enthusiasm. "She helped me out of the forest. She told me to come here."
"From the forest?" Istro said. "I heard that the Silver Riders came this way last night. I don't want to interfere, but what were you and Dola doing in the woods at night?"
"I got lost," Elis said. "I was just trying to get back to Tregan."
"Tregan, you say?" replied Jarinda with raised eyebrows. "I don't think I know about that. Is that even in Galadir?" she looked at her husband and they both shrugged their shoulders.
"Galadir? What kind of place is that? Where in the world am I?" Elis shook with anger. "Do you know of Rivenhil? Of Overgard? Of Zadaria?"
They shook their heads and exchanged glances, but neither seemed to know what she was talking about. Their faces showed confusion, but it soon turned to genuine concern.
"Where am I?" Elis was beginning to lose her nerve, wishing things would make sense even for a moment.
"You're in Briar, lady. In the kingdom of the Hilmener. All you see from here to the sun is the Galadir Preiner under Lord Literin," Istro said.
Elis stared at them with a blank expression. In that brief moment, she thought it was all a game. But their faces, the land on which she stood, the riders in the night, all of it was too real and too contrived to be anything but true.
She looked at the drunkard whimpering in the hay and the old man carrying a chicken under his arm. She gave up trying to fight the obvious and allowed the new idea to take hold. The impossible realization that she was somewhere else, not too far away and yet farther than she had ever traveled.
"Come in," Jarinda said. "You seem a little dazed. I don't want you to get sick outside my inn. Come in, there's food."
The inn’s main room smelled of pine and ale. It was warmed up by a small fireplace in the corner, and devoid of people in the early morning. Carvings of animals decorated the walls, and now and then a wreath of dried flowers hung aloft.
She could not place the feeling it gave her, but she felt closer to home than she had in years.
"There's a bed for you upstairs if you want it," Jarinda said, bringing her a plate of fresh bread and sour milk.
"I am not sure I can afford it," Elis replied. "I am not sure I can afford any of it at all."
"Do not worry about that. Eat. We'll try to get you on your way when you are rested."
"Thank you," Elis replied, devouring the food like a wolf devours its prey after weeks of starvation.
●
She woke up on a bed of straw and a feather pillow smelling of herbs. She had slept until nightfall, and in the shallow moments of sleep, she thought she was back in her own bed. But the chatter of people milling about the inn, the clinking of plates and pitchers was a stark reminder that the thing most likely to be a dream was in fact the truth.
Beside the bed, she found fresh clothes, stacked neatly on top of each other. Looking at her own torn and muddy clothes, she had no choice but to take another step into the new world. They didn't fit very well, but she didn't mind.
"Come on," Jarinda said as she watched her come down the stairs, "I bet you're as good as new. I couldn't find anything that would fit you, you're half my size after all," she laughed.
"These are great, thanks."
"Sit down. I'll pour you some soup."
A crowd had already gathered around the fire, keenly eyeing the lamb roasting above. It smelled delicious, and she fought the urge to have a piece.
"I've been asking around," Jarinda said, pouring a large mug of ale," about the place you're looking for, but no one has ever heard of it. It might be in Virister or Kaler, but certainly not Hilmener. I don't want to bother you, you seem to have a lot in your cup already, but how did you find yourself in our woods? You speak so strangely, that's all."
"I can't explain it." Elis replied, "I just wanted to have a walk in the woods. And then, when I tried to go back the path somehow changed. It didn’t make sense. It’s like it wasn’t the same forest at all. I started running when I heard the wolves, and then I found Dola." She paused, burning her tongue on the hot soup. "She called me a vicra."
Jarinda poured another mug and handed it to a man in leather armor who reeked of smoke. He winced at the word, almost pricked by its rare composition. He didn't take his eyes off the ale and carried it to his table with great care.
"Dola is as old as she's wise, but she clings to the old ways like a leech. You'd best take her words with a grain of salt, my dear."
"What did she really mean? She said it meant that I was a foreigner."
"Oh well, it's a little more than that. Some people here still believe in the old customs. They say there's a kind of passage in the forest that opens at night. People come through from time to time, strange people from other places or something. If you ask me, it's all nonsense, but folk would rather believe in magic than reason," she said, waving her hand in the air as if to ward something off. "Eat your soup."
Elis remembered how much she loved pumpkin soup, and it reminded her that she hadn't been home in years. She had put it off, because of work, for one thing, or another, not knowing why she was so pinned to a place she despised. It returned to her in little waves of memory and regret. She didn't dare think about the possibility that she might never return.
"If you like," Jarinda leaned closer, almost whispering, "you can stay here with us. There's always something to do at the inn, gods know I can’t do everything myself. And you'll have a roof over your head. At least until you decide what to do with yourself."
"I don't want to be a burden." Elis returned, slurping the last drop of soup. "You don't have to help me. I'd repay you as best I could."
"Well, then I have to ask. Do you know anything about pies?" Jarinda smiled, as wide as a smile can be. She walked to the door behind her, "Follow me."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
●
She often dreamed of fire. It began with the tiniest embers in the air, crashing into one another and birthing sparks. Each one took the shape of a face or an animal and fell on the dry grass. It took only a moment for the field to be ablaze and the night to be consumed by fire. She sat there in the midst of hell, waiting for the circle to close around her.
Some nights she'd wake up, tormented by the things she had left behind, by the people who thought she was dead or missing.
The most terrifying were the nights she crept into the woods, hoping to stumble back onto the same path that had led her there. She never ventured far away, making sure she still had the hill and village in sight. Each time she returned, she was less hopeful of ever finding the way.
The days were different. The work was hard, but there was never a moment when she wanted to give it up. In the mornings she baked the pies and helped the guests until the last of them had left. The village received her like one of their own, and her desire to go back began to fade.
People came from all over the valley, farmers and merchants alike. The inn was their refuge and safe haven, no matter what they were trying to escape from. Every evening they told their stories around the fire and waited for the next day to do the same.
As time slipped away the stories told in the inn turned darker, and people's faces lost their peace. War was the first word that came first. The north was marching to the south, and the king was gathering his armies from all corners of the country.
They all knew that sooner or later it would reach them too.
"There's nothing we can do about it, dear," Jarinda said every time she caught Elis listening to the guests. She too was afraid, but as long as there was music playing in the inn, the wolves stayed outside the door.
"The Silver Riders," said one of the peasants, balancing on the small chair he had pulled from the fireplace. He still had hay on his back and in his hair and held the jug with trembling hands. "I’ve seen 'em."
"Mah, my bony arse might start dancing if that's true, Keggal. Always the same old story. Silver Riders here, Silver Riders there. The king wouldn't let them ride unless it was the end of times. And I don't think the world is going to end anytime soon," said another peasant at the other end of the table.
"I'm telling you, Falis. I've seen it with the two eyes the gods gave me. Armoured from head to toe. Horses bigger than my house. The earth shook beneath me. I'm not lying. I swear it by my Lyrra."
"Where?"
"Down in the woods, by the river. I was picking some acorns for the pigs, and when I lifted my head, there they were. Like lightning, they went."
"In the woods?" Elis whispered, trying to grab the jug in Keggal's hand before he spilt it. "What does that mean?"
"Do you believe me, Elis? You saw her too?" he asked, eyes wide.
"I.."
The door flew open behind them and an old woman entered, shaking off her rain-soaked coat. She hung it by the fire and sat down at a small table next to it. Most didn't notice her, and those who did knew very well that she never brought good news.
Elis recognized her in an instant as the woman from the forest.
"I remember you." Dola raised a finger at Elis and held it in the air as she spoke. "It seems you haven't found what you were looking for."
"What do you know about it?" Elis handed her a fresh bowl of stew and stopped at the table. "You must tell me if you know something."
"If I knew what you were asking, I'd be home too," Dola whispered, blowing on the spoonful of hot stew.
"You, a vicra?" Elis staggered to the chair opposite her. "You must know something. Don't you? Whatever it's, please, tell me."
Dola smiled and warmed her hands on the bowl. "Believe me, girl, this is the only place you're safe right now. If you were ever to return, you'd have done so by now. Don't tempt your fate. A war is coming."
"I've heard that before. The Silver Riders in the night. That's who you hid me from that night?"
"Yes."
"And the little girl? Was she a vicra too?"
"Yes."
The peace Elis had come to know was now in jeopardy. All the things she had grown accustomed to and the life she had learned to enjoy could easily be undone by another truth.
"What did you do to her?"
"I tried to save her. Her, me, all of us. I tried to stop what no one here believes to be true. The Silver Rorsemen will come for all of us," she screamed, and the chatter in the room suddenly fell silent.
"Dola, please," Istro said. "It can't be that bad."
Dola dropped the spoon and stood up. Her grey hair flew to the side and she looked more like a witch from old fairy tales than a woman trying to speak reason.
"When was the last time any of you went outside the village? You hear stories, tall tales, rumors, and for whose benefit? Have you ever, even for a moment, thought about what the world outside this place is really like?"
"Why should we? They don't care about us, do they?" Asked Keggel.
"Why? Because we're all prisoners, people. I've done what you've been afraid of all your lives. I went to see what lies beyond. And do you know what I saw?"
"What?" asked Elis with great concern. She feared the words that would follow, and yet she needed to hear them more than anyone else in the inn.
"Nothing at all." Dola shook her head slightly as if admitting great defeat. "There is nothing outside this village, this valley, this frying pan of illusion. There is only darkness."
The guests were no longer silent. Some were horrified, others angry at Dola's vile remarks, and few were too drunk to even understand what was happening.
To calm them down, Jaringa took a ladle and banged it on the metal pot next to her. "Silence! I'll have order in my inn."
Within seconds, everything was back to normal.
"Everyone is already on the edge because the war is coming. We can't have any more trouble here, real or imaginary." Jarinda continued.
"Imaginary?" Dola shouted back. "Then go, all of you. Go beyond the river, it's not far. Go and see if I'm the one who is mad. And think for a moment if you even remember your childhood," she sat back and poured herself another bowl.
Elis knew Jarinda was watching her, but she could not help but wonder if Dola was telling the truth.
"You are not from here, are you? I want you to say it," Elis said softly. "You are from another place, like me? Tell me."
"I was wrong about you," Dola replied in a rough voice. Her eyes were full of tears, but she did not cry. "I'll tell you all right. Tonight at the edge of the forest. I'll show you everything. Now leave me alone."
Elis stood frozen for a moment, staring at the old woman, then walked away. She did not know what to do. Instead, she heated the old oven in the kitchen and began to bake pies. It seemed like the only sensible thing to do.
"Do not listen to her," she heard Jarinda say. "All is right with the world."
●
Dola was exactly where she was supposed to be. Her cloak reached to the earth and was still muddy at the edges. In the moonlight, she looked like an omen, like death itself waiting to take Elis to the other side.
"You have come." Said Dola, pulling back her hood.
"Tell me," said Elis.
"Walk with me."
They went in a straight line, not following any road and making no stops. The farther they walked, the colder it got. Elis tried hard to be patient, but the ominous colour of the forest made her regret her decision even more.
"Tell me. Now." Shouted Elis, expecting the forest to respond to her voice, but she felt as if she were speaking into a pillow. Her words were heavy, slow, and almost not her own.
"The village is the only place that is safe. That's why I sent you there. From now on, it'll get darker, and there will be no going back. It took me a lifetime to know that. A lifetime to realize that there is nothing outside this miserable valley. Nothing but the endless darkness."
"You said that already. How could you possibly claim that?"
"It's true. The girl who was with me that night. Her name was Kelen. I found her by the river, cold to the bone. She was lost, like you, and I had to save her. I had to bring her home."
"And where is that?"
"I don't know," her voice weakened. "I don't know what's on the other side. I knew once. But I... I've long forgotten. The only thing I know is that you must go there before there’s nothing left of us."
"How long have you been here?"
"As long as I can remember."
A rumbling sounded in the distance. Small tremors reached their feet and felt like hooves digging into the forest floor.
"We must hurry." Dola pulled on Elis' arm with incredible strength before she could even think of running. They quickened their pace and bowed low into the dark.
"What do the horsemen have to do with this?" Elis was afraid, in equal measure of where she was going, and the idea that they could be hunted down at any moment.
"Sentinels." Dola returned pulling Elis’s sleeve with greater force. "They keep watch so that no one leaves this place. You must never let them see you. If they do, we might as well be dead already."
Elis grinned. She couldn't keep up with what Dola was saying. Living in another world, giving up the life she had for something she could never have imagined, was no longer improbable. It was madness she shared with another human being.
Elis wrenched her arm from Dola's grasp and stopped. Her ears rang and she could barely feel her feet from the cold. "I will not come one step closer unless you tell me what I want to know."
"Listen to me," Dola pulled her closer until Elis could see deep into her cold eyes. "This is the only warning you'll ever get. I am going to take you home, and you are going to follow me. This cold darkness is getting closer and closer, and it will suffocate us all, including you. I do not care if you trust me or hate me. I am not doing this for me, but for all of us. You are the last one, there is no one left. You have all forgotten. There," she pointed to a small white ember on the forest floor. "That's your answer."
"What is that thing?"
"You are me." Continued Dola. "You are Kelen. You are Jarinda and you are Keggal. We are all one and the same person. All the people in the village, all the people you see, we are all the same. This place is like a trap, and we all fell into it. Different versions of ourselves, of gods know where, and gods know why. But right now we are the only light in this dark world. None of us knows how we got here. The only life we know is the life in the village. When I found Kelen by the river, I thought she was the one. A child who still remembers her true name. I thought she was the key, but they took her," she pointed to the sound of metal coming in her direction. It was getting louder and louder.
Elis stopped listening. Her eyes followed the glow that swirled around the trees. She no longer cared what Dola said or the price she might pay. It no longer mattered how impossible her reality had become. She only cared about the piece of light that danced in the air, the only thing that had the power to fight the darkness.
She reached out to grab it, but it slipped from her hand. It did not stop, but flew even deeper into the forest, calling her forward.
"Go," Dola said, pulling her hood back up.
Elis followed the ember, leaping over roots and mounds of earth, playing a game with the light itself. She did not hear the riders come through the night and take Dola away.
She stopped only when she finally held the light in her hand. It felt like the sun, the warmth of a summer day and a memory of a lifetime.
The light grew in thick beams from her hand. It illuminated the trees and pushed past them. It pierced the wall of darkness and shattered into a million pieces like fragile glass.
It blinded her, as all things became bright. When shapes appeared again, she wondered if they were real or just another illusion.
●
"It's good to have you back," the nurse said. She checked the screen with the vital signs and held her shoulder until Elis could sit up in her bed. The screen showed a silver line bouncing up and down against the black background.
"Where am I?" she said in a thin, raspy voice as if she had not used it in a very long time.
"You had an accident, but you are going to be okay now." the doctor said.
It had to be true. It could not be anything else.
"How long?" Elis asked, fighting an overwhelming wave of sadness. "How long have I been here?
The doctor lowered his head and put the pen in his pocket.
"Forty-five years," he said. "It’s truly a miracle how you managed to survive this long."
She looked at the wrinkles on her hands and the long grey hair falling down her shoulders. She had no strength to move, so she turned to the window and observed the strange new world.
She thought of the memories the light had shown her, memories of lives she had lived in other places. It gave her peace, and she smiled, knowing full well that she had made it to the other side.