Chapter 16: Something Strange
As the tension hung thick in the frosty air, a hush fell over the clearing, broken only by the muffled sounds of labored breathing, the occasional whimper of an injured man and the wind blowing across the snow covered ground. Then, as if guided by some unseen force, the wolves gracefully stepped aside, allowing a path to form through the snow-covered ground.
Emerging from the forest, shadowy figures hidden by the falling snow took shape, causing Katalin's heart to quicken with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. Slowly, these figures resolved into women dressed in black leather armor, their snow-white skin seeming to glow in the dim light of the clearing. Their long black hair cascaded down their backs, framing their faces like curtains of night.
As Katalin's gaze flickered over the figures she couldn't help but notice the ethereal quality surrounding them, like wisps of mist swirling around their forms. Unlike the clear and distinct auras she was accustomed to seeing, theirs seemed elusive and shifting, defying her attempts to discern their true nature. It was as if their very essence was veiled in mystery, leaving Katalin with a sense of unease and uncertainty.
They formed a straight line with the trees at their back facing Katalin and the soldiers. Some had arrows notched in their bows, while others held spears at the ready. A few reached down to pet the wolves that followed them into position.
Then, from the midst of the line, three figures draped in heavy, white fur cloaks stepped forward. As these last three emerged, the falling snow cleared around them, creating an eerie calm that swiftly spread across the battlefield. Though their faces were obscured by the hoods of their cloaks, an unmistakable aura of authority emanated from them. The central figure lowered her hood, cascades of white hair spilled forth, glinting like freshly fallen snow. There was something ageless about her, and a stark beauty that Katalin found captivating. As the central figure surveyed the scene with an icy gaze, shivers ran down Katalin's spine.
Katalin's heart jolted as a soldier's panicked cry of 'witches!' shattered the silence. She tensed, her eyes widening as he lunged forward, spear aimed at the figure in the center. But before he could finish his motion, two arrows cut through the air with lethal precision, striking the soldier in the chest. He staggered backward, a look of agony on his face, before collapsing into the snow. The arrows pierced his armor, leaving large circles of frost and ice around the points of impact.
As the man fell, his spear clattering to the ground beside him, Katalin's gaze shifted to the other soldiers as they took a collective step back. Their faces drained of color, eyes wide with fear as they stared at the figures before them. The realization of the deadly power they faced seemed to sink in, threatening to consume them with panic. Before they were fully overcome, Sir Randall stepped forward, banging his sword against a soldier's shield. "Hold, you miserable curs," he barked. "Form up and stand your ground!"
Katalin's attention flickered from the tense standoff before her as movement caught her eye. With a start, she saw Sally rise from her place beside Wulfgar and slip between two soldiers. Advancing a few hesitant steps, Sally halted, her gaze fixed on the figures now standing at the edge of the clearing. Reacting instinctively, Katalin pushed through the ranks of soldiers, positioning herself beside Sally and partially in front of her, a silent shield against whatever may come.
The figure to the left of the leader moved. With deliberate grace, she reached up and lowered her hood, revealing a cascade of black hair that framed her face. With cautious steps, she closed the distance between herself and Sally until she stood just ten feet away. With a graceful motion, she knelt in the snow, her cloak pooling around her as she held out her arms towards Sally.
"Salvia," she called softly, her voice carrying across the clearing, filled with a mixture of longing and relief.
Sally's voice emerged weak and raspy, trembling with uncertainty as she took a tentative half-step forward, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Mama?" The word hung in the air, a question and a plea all at once.
Katalin's heart skipped a beat as the word hung in the air. Her mind raced, piecing together the puzzle before her. Mother? The thought was like a sudden burst of sunlight through storm clouds, illuminating the truth. She looked between Sally and the woman kneeling before her, disbelief mingling with a flicker of longing.
The woman, her features softened by a gentle smile and eyes glistening with tears of joy, extended her arms toward Sally in a gesture of comfort. Her voice was a soothing melody as she spoke softly in a language Katalin did not understand, the words filled with love and longing.
Without hesitation, Sally broke free from Katalin's side, her movements propelled by an overwhelming surge of emotion. With a swift and determined stride, she rushed into the woman's waiting embrace, their figures merging in a tender embrace that spoke of a bond long yearned for and finally found. Katalin's breath caught in her throat as she bore witness to the moment, her own heart a tempest of emotions, torn between happiness for Sally and the ache of her own unspoken yearning.
Katalin impulsively took a step forward, a shadow of envy tugged at her heart. Then she hesitated, a wave of loneliness washing over her, a reminder of her own losses. Seeing that Sally was safe, she just stood and watched, a silent witness to the reunion unfolding before her. A wistful smile graced her lips, tinged with melancholy--a silent lament for the fractured pieces of her own past and the uncertain path that lay ahead.
Katalin's attention was drawn back to the women at the tree line. Tall and regal, the central figure stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. Her voice, clear and authoritative, cut through the tension like a sharpened blade, sending a shiver down Katalin's spine.
"I am Glacilyn Torfina," she declared, her words booming with anger. "Queen of the Winter Dryads of the Hyarrulfar Mountain, known to you humans as the Ardrihorns."
Her eyes blazed with fury as she continued, "You have dared to hold that which is mine. We have come to reclaim Salvia, my daughter's daughter. Do not think for a moment that I will allow this injustice to go unpunished."
The Queen's tone dripped with indignation, her words a clear warning. "Cross us, and the full wrath of the Winter Dryads will be unleashed upon you."
Her words hung in the air like a dark cloud, heavy with the promise of retribution. A deafening silence followed, broken only by the howling wind. Katalin felt a chill run down her spine as she watched the soldiers shift uncomfortably, their fear palpable. Randall stood tall, his expression hardened with resolve, while Garren stepped forward, a beacon of calm in the midst of the storm.
With a courtly bow and hands extended in a gesture of peace, Garren began, "We would beg of you an indulgence." His voice was steady as he continued, "The man who held your daughter lies there," he added, pointing toward Dover with a solemn expression.
Dover lay on the ground, his breaths quick and shallow, visible in the frosty air. Rapid exhalations formed clouds of mist above his head, a stark reminder of his precarious condition.
As Garren finished, the Queen and the woman beside Sally engaged in a rapid conversation in their own language. The Queen's countenance softened as she turned her attention to Dover, moving to stand over him with a mixture of authority and compassion. "My daughter Irlyssa tells me this much is true," she stated, her voice carrying across the clearing. "This man is Salvia's father."
Meanwhile, Sally pulled back from her mother, her urgency evident as she tried tugging on her arm, attempting to guide her towards Wulfgar. However, Irlyssa remained kneeling, her gaze fixed on the Queen, a mix of concern and determination etched on her face. It seemed she was torn between her desire to follow Sally and her duty to await the Queen's command.
Eventually, Sally released her hand and dashed back to Wulfgar, who lay prone on the ground. Katalin watched as the soldiers shifted away, creating a clear path for the girl without exchanging a word. Their movements spoke volumes, expressing a desire to avoid drawing attention or becoming involved in the scene unfolding before them.
As Katalin watched, the queen moved gracefully to stand in front of Garren, her strides covering much more ground with each step than seemed natural. "You are the one that freed Salvia?" Glacilyn inquired, her gaze fixed on Garren with a mixture of respect and curiosity.
Garren nodded, his expression grave yet determined. "I and my friends forced him to release her to us," he confirmed, his voice steady.
"Very well, you have my thanks," Glacilyn acknowledged, her tone carrying a note of appreciation. "Ask of me a boon, and if it is in my power, I shall grant it."
Katalin's pulse quickened with a glimmer of hope at the queen's offer as she watched to see what Garren would request. Garren stepped aside to gesture toward where Sally knelt beside Wulfgar. "Can you help my friend?" he asked, his voice tinged with fear and urgency.
The queen nodded solemnly. "This can be done. But our healing is not easy on your kind," she cautioned, her words carrying an underlying weight that unsettled Katalin. Turning to the third woman dressed in robes still standing at the tree line, Glacilyn beckoned her forward with a regal gesture and gave a short series of commands in their language.
In response to the queen's instructions, the woman, introduced as Gentiana, stepped forward with a quiet resolve. Glacilyn's introduction was brief but respectful, and Katalin observed as Gentiana approached Wulfgar with purpose.
Glacilyn then addressed Irlyssa, who approached Sally and led her away from Wulfgar. The young girl cast a tentative glance toward Garren, seeking reassurance. Garren, recognizing her silent plea, knelt beside her with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Sally," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Wulfgar is in good hands."
Meanwhile, Katalin positioned herself beside Gentiana and Wulfgar with Rollo on the opposite side. They exchanged quick glances, ready to assist in any way she could. Gentiana turned to Katalin, her speech broken but determined. "Need biting," she requested.
As Katalin furrowed her brow in confusion, Gentiana mimed biting her own finger, a pained expression crossing her face. "Need biting," she repeated, urgency evident in her broken speech. Rollo nodded and spoke up, “I think she wants something for Wulfgar to bite on."
Wulfgar let out a weak chuckle, his face pale but his eyes glinting with determination. "Oh... this is going to be fun," he muttered, bracing himself for what was to come.
Acting quickly, Katalin rummaged through Wulfgar's nearby pack, finding some leather cords. She offered them to Wulfgar, but Gentiana shook her head adamantly. "No, no. You hold."
Exchanging determined nods, Katalin moved to kneel by Wulfgar's head. He opened his mouth, biting down on the cords as Katalin pressed them in. She could feel the tension in his jaw, the fear and determination radiating from his body.
Meanwhile, the soldiers around them had backed off, some making signs against evil. Naked fear was plain on their faces, and Katalin couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease at their reaction. What did they know that she didn't?
However, Randall had moved closer, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene with keen interest. Katalin caught his eye for a moment, and the intensity of his stare unsettled her. What was he thinking? What was he planning?"
Pushing aside her doubts, Katalin focused on the task at hand. She gripped the leather cords tightly, ready to assist Gentiana in whatever way necessary to save Wulfgar's life.
Gentiana's melodic singing filled the air, accompanied by glowing blue light emanating from her hands as she placed them on the worst of Wulfgar's wounds. Katalin watched in awe, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and hope as the blue light expanded and seeped into Wulfgar's leg. The wolves nearby grew agitated and began to howl, their cries rising in a haunting chorus that seemed to echo the power of the healing magic.
Wulfgar tensed in obvious agony, his eyes bulging as he bit down hard on the leather cords, his arms splayed out to the sides, clutching at the ground for purchase. Rollo put all of his weight into trying to hold Wulfgar’s other leg still. Katalin could feel his pain as if it were her own, and she fought the urge to look away, knowing that she needed to be strong for him.
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The intensity of Gentiana's singing grew, mingling with the chorus of howls from the wolves surrounding them. The air around them seemed to shimmer with energy, and Katalin could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
As she watched with bated breath, Wulfgar's leg began to mend before her eyes, the bones shifting and grinding audibly. Frost began to accumulate around Gentiana's hands, spreading out in delicate patterns on Wulfgar's legs and the ground beneath them. It was a surreal scene, one that Katalin knew she would never forget, a testament to the incredible power of the Winter Dryads.
As the song reached its crescendo, Wulfgar's shoulders were pressed back into the ground, his chest rising upward. A chill ran down Katalin's spine, the hairs on her arms and neck standing on end. She was about to intervene, fearing for Wulfgar's safety, when the singing abruptly ceased.
Wulfgar slumped down, unconscious, his chest heaving with each labored breath. Gentiana leaned back, her brow glistening with sweat, her breaths ragged and heavy. The wolves, though quieted, still whimpered softly, their mournful cries echoing through the clearing, a haunting reminder of the power that had just been unleashed.
Katalin felt a mixture of relief and concern wash over her as she observed Wulfgar's still form. While he still bore many injuries, the most severe ones seemed to have been healed, albeit leaving his skin with a bluish hue. She gently laid her hand on the spot where his leg had been healed, feeling the chill of his skin but sensing warmth beneath the surface, a testament to the incredible magic that had just taken place.
As she looked up at Gentiana, Katalin couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and gratitude towards the Winter Dryad. She had just witnessed something truly extraordinary, and she knew that without Gentiana's help, Wulfgar might not have survived. The weight of that realization settled heavily on her shoulders, even as hope blossomed in her heart.
Gentiana exchanged words with the queen in their native tongue, prompting Glacilyn to relay the message to Garren. "She says your companion requires further healing, but he cannot endure more at this moment."
Garren bowed his head, his expression one of sincere gratitude. "We are deeply indebted to you and your people for your assistance, Queen Glacilyn," he said, his words carrying the weight of his appreciation.
The queen acknowledged his thanks with a slight nod before her gaze shifted between Randall and Katalin. Katalin felt a sense of unease settle in her stomach as the queen's eyes locked with hers, a flicker of recognition and something else, something harder to define, passing between them.
"The two of you demonstrated courage in the battle, for which I would offer a reward," Glacilyn began, her words measured and deliberate. "However, you also each took the life of one of my pets, and for this, I would demand retribution."
Katalin's heart skipped a beat at the queen's words, a mixture of surprise and defiance rising within her. She had fought to protect her friends, to survive. Surely the queen could understand that? But as she looked into Glacilyn's eyes, she saw a resolve there that would not be easily swayed.
The queen moved gracefully to stand directly in front of Randall, the distance between them almost imperceptible, and elegantly shed her fur robe, allowing it to pool at her feet, revealing an ethereal, diaphanous gown underneath. Katalin watched, her eyes widening slightly at the boldness of the gesture.
"For you," Glacilyn began, her voice a soft melody, "I offer my most prized possession. Accompany me to my mountain abode and luxuriate in the splendor of one winter spent in opulence. Upon your departure, you shall be adorned with as much gold and jewels as you can carry."
Randall sheathed his sword with a flourish, his movements fluid and graceful as he removed his helmet. He straightened his posture, his chin held high and a prideful smirk played upon his lips. With each movement, there was a deliberate grace, as he surveyed the queen with hungry eyes. Katalin couldn't help but feel a sense of revulsion at the sight, the blatant desire in his gaze making her skin crawl.
Finally, he responded, his words measured and deliberate. "While your offer is undoubtedly tempting," he said with a genteel air, "I must regrettably decline. However, should you deign to grace us with your presence in town for a night or two, I am confident we can arrange entertainment suitable for your... discerning tastes."
Glacilyn leaned in, her touch suggestive as she ran one hand up through his hair and to the back of his head. "A pity," she murmured, her breath cool against his ear. "One kiss to remember me by?"
Katalin felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and anger at the intimate display. She wanted to look away, to pretend she hadn't seen the exchange, but found herself unable to tear her gaze from the unfolding scene, a morbid curiosity keeping her rooted in place.
Their embrace deepened into a kiss; the queen's hands entwined behind Randall's head while his arms encircled her. But as the moments stretched on, Randall's demeanor shifted. He began to squirm, his attempts to pull away growing more frantic. With both hands, he pushed against the queen's chest, his muffled cries of pain mingling with the cold silence.
Katalin's eyes darted around the scene, registering the soldiers' and Garren's retreat, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. Sensing the urgency, she took a step forward, poised to intervene, her heart pounding in her chest.
Just then, the queen abruptly released Randall, and he tumbled backward. In that fleeting moment, Katalin glimpsed his face, now contorted in agony, his skin blue and covered with frost. The sight was horrifying, a testament to the queen's terrifying power.
Randall hit the ground with a resounding thud, his screams rending the air as he clutched his frozen visage, writhing in torment. The soldiers stood frozen, their eyes wide with fear, while Garren and Rollo stumbled back.
The queen's gaze shifted from Randall to Katalin, her expression inscrutable as she assessed the young woman before her. With measured steps, she closed the distance between them, her movements graceful yet purposeful. Katalin stood to meet her, her heart quickening, a sense of unease settling in her gut as the queen drew near.
"So, he chose retribution," the queen remarked, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"You were his equal in battle," Glacilyn said to Katalin, her words laced with a subtle condescension. "But sadly, you lack what we need from your kind."
"Although..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced around at two of her followers still lingering at the tree line. One smiled and winked at Katalin, the other's eyes bore a predatory gleam, reminiscent of the wolves prowling around the clearing. "There are a few who might enjoy your company for a winter."
Katalin felt herself blush and a shiver crawled down her spine as she met their gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. Her hand tightened instinctively around the hilt of her weapon, a cold sweat beading on her brow.
Nervously, Katalin returned her attention to the queen, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited the queen's next words. The tension in the air was thick, and she could feel the weight of the queen's gaze upon her.
"Don't worry. I won't throw you to the wolves," Glacilyn reassured her with a laugh, the sound ringing with genuine amusement. "No. I have not forgotten I owe you and your friends for helping Salvia." The queen's gaze swept across the battlefield before she inquired, "Where were you going?"
Katalin's voice wavered as she responded, her nerves getting the better of her. "S-south... We are going south." She could feel the eyes of the others on her, and she silently prayed that the queen would be satisfied with her answer.
Glacilyn exchanged a few quick words with Gentiana before turning back to Katalin. "So be it. Gentiana will travel with you for some distance. She will continue to heal your servant."
A wave of relief washed over Katalin, and she felt her shoulders sag as the tension drained from her body. She nodded gratefully to the queen, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
With a nod of acknowledgment, the queen turned and barked a few orders. Irlyssa sprang up and retrieved the queen's fur cloak, gracefully assisting her in putting it back on. As the queen prepared to depart, Katalin couldn't help but feel a sense of awe for the powerful and enigmatic ruler.
Irlyssa hurriedly whispered to Sally, guiding her towards the queen with urgent yet gentle gestures. The queen's smile was warm as she reached out to Sally, her touch tentative yet affectionate. Despite the reassurance, Sally remained cautious, her expression a mixture of wariness and curiosity. But as the queen laid one hand on her head, Sally cautiously smiled up at her and moved closer.
With Sally in the queen's care, Irlyssa swiftly made her way to where Dover lay, her movements purposeful and determined. Kneeling beside him, she spoke rapidly to the queen, her words urgent and pleading, a reflection of her desperation. Katalin could see the depth of Irlyssa's concern for Dover, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the young woman.
Glacilyn's response to Irlyssa's pleas was sharp, her anger evident in her tone as she addressed the urgent request. However, beneath the frustration lay a subtle resignation, as if she had known all along that this moment would come.
Turning her attention to Katalin, the queen's voice softened, a hint of sympathy coloring her words. "Don't ever have daughters," she sighed heavily, her gaze lingering on Katalin briefly before shifting away.
Katalin felt a sudden kinship with the queen, a shared understanding of the joys and sorrows that came with loving someone so deeply. She nodded silently, her thoughts turning to her own losses and what sacrifice she would make to change the past.
With a decisive gesture, the queen directed Gentiana towards Dover, her command clear and unwavering. Gentiana moved with purpose, her steps graceful as she approached the wounded man. Katalin watched, her breath caught in her throat, as Gentiana knelt beside Dover, her touch gentle as she laid her hands upon his chest.
Gentiana's incantation this time was swift, her movements precise as she focused on Dover's wound. She chanted only a couple of quick phrases, her hand glowing blue for a brief moment. As the light faded, Dover's breathing steadied, his features relaxing slightly, as he looked around himself and groaned.
Beside him, Irlyssa let out a shaky breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she watched Dover's condition improve. She turned to the queen, her gratitude evident in her expression, and bowed her head in silent thanks.
Glacilyn moved to stand over Dover once more, her presence commanding attention as she delivered her ultimatum. Her words carried the weight of authority, a stark reminder of the consequences Dover faced for his actions. Katalin watched, her heart pounding in her chest, as the queen spoke.
"By rights, I should drive a spear through your heart for the trouble you have caused," she proclaimed firmly, her voice ringing out across the clearing. "But I will give you one opportunity. Agree to come spend a winter in our home as my daughter's companion. Refuse, and lie here bleeding."
Katalin held her breath, waiting for Dover's response. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his pride and his desire to live. When he finally spoke, his words were barely audible, mumbled and inarticulate.
Glacilyn urged him to speak louder, her gaze unwavering until Dover relented with resignation. "Fine. But one winter only," he grumbled, his voice filled with defeat.
Katalin felt a mix of relief and unease washing over her. While she was glad that Dover would live, she couldn't help but wonder at the justice of such a man being rewarded with a winter spent with the Dryads. She also wondered what the winter would entail and how it would change him. She glanced at Irlyssa, seeing a flicker of hope in the young woman's eyes, and felt a twinge of sympathy for the young Winter Dryad.
With Dover's agreement, Glacilyn issued a quick command to Gentiana, and the healer wasted no time, swiftly beginning her song of healing. With hands poised over Dover's chest, she chanted softly, her voice creating an ethereal melody that filled the air. The blue glow of her hands cast their otherworldly light, illuminating the tense scene. Katalin watched, transfixed by the display of power and skill before her.
The chorus of howls from the wolves started again and intensified, echoing the urgency of Gentiana's task. Each note seemed to reverberate through the clearing, adding an eerie backdrop to the healing ritual. Katalin again felt a shiver run down her spine, the primal sound of the wolves mingling with the supernatural energy that permeated the air.
Meanwhile, at Glacilyn's directive, one of the spear bearers hastened over to join the efforts. Positioned beside Dover, she and Irlyssa grasped his shoulders firmly, their combined strength anchoring him in place. Katalin could see the determination in their eyes, the shared purpose of holding Dover still.
With a decisive motion, Gentiana seized the bolt lodged in Dover's chest, wrenching it free in a sudden spray of blood. Dover's agonized cry pierced the air, reverberating through the forest as he struggled against the searing pain. Katalin flinched at the sound but looked on.
Undeterred, Gentiana discarded the bolt and focused her energy on the wound, her hands enveloping it with a renewed sense of purpose. The healing song reached its climax and halted, each verse a testament to her skill and determination. Katalin held her breath, the power of the ritual washing over her like a physical force.
As the final note faded into silence, Dover's resistance waned, his body slumping back against the ground. He panted heavily, the ordeal leaving him drained and exhausted. Katalin released the breath she had been holding as she witnessed the aftermath of the healing.
Katalin turned her attention back to the queen, watching as Glacilyn swept her gaze over the clearing one final time. The queen's eyes settled on Garren, her scrutiny assessing him with a mix of appraisal and regret. "A shame you are not a bit younger," she remarked, her tone tinged with wistfulness, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
With that, Glacilyn turned to make her way toward the waiting warriors at the trees. Sally paused in her steps, releasing the queen's hand to dart back to Wulfgar's side. With tender affection, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, eliciting a genuine smile and a weak hug from him. Katalin felt a warmth in her chest at the sight, a reminder of the bonds that had been forged through their shared trials.
As Sally returned to the queen's side, the two walked hand in hand into the woods, their connection evident in the simple gesture. Katalin watched them go, a sense of wonder and curiosity filling her. She couldn't help but ponder what life among the Winter Dryads might be like and how Sally would adapt to her new role.
Meanwhile, Irlyssa and the other woman worked together to haul Dover to his feet, supporting him as they followed after Glacilyn. The remaining women fell into line behind their queen, their movements purposeful and determined.
As the group departed the wolves followed except for two uninjured ones that trotted over to settle quietly beside Gentiana, who remained seated on the ground, visibly fatigued from her efforts.
As the queen and her retinue disappeared into the woods, the falling snow returned, blanketing the clearing in a serene white veil. Katalin, Garren, and Rollo stood beside Wulfgar, facing Percival and the three other soldiers still on their feet amidst the aftermath of the confrontation.
Randall lay sprawled on the ground between them, clasping his head and moaning softly, a silent testament to the chaos that had unfolded moments before.
Katalin felt a mix of relief and uncertainty wash over her. The battle was over, but the journey ahead was still fraught with unknowns, the first being how to deal with Sir Randall. Or at the very least, with Sir Randall's soldiers.