“Please remind me,” started Findel dryly while poking their campfire with a dry branch, “if I ever actually agreed with you on anything important?”
Helena, who was currently hunched over a large blank scroll of parchment, inscribing it with what looked to be arcane symbols, gave her a strange look over the fire. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“Good,” concluded Findel, lifting the branch and staring at the smouldering tip for a few seconds, before shifting her gaze to Helena. “Because for once, I do agree with you: your idea is terrible.”
Helena didn’t look amused in the slightest.
“Why are you bothering so much with it?” asked Findel. “It’s not going to work. We should just pack up and leave.” Helena frowned, but Findel didn’t stop. “To Oblivion with their fields. They can just resow them in a few months anyway.”
“You never did have any empathy, but this is a new low,” Helena snarled. “And if they get trampled, you don’t get paid.”
“To Oblivion with payment too,” Findel snapped. “All the silver of this world is worthless to the dead.”
“Nobody will die,” Helena said firmly. “Not me, not you, not any of the giants or the people of Erikstead.”
“Are you always that naïve?” Findel questioned. “That’s not possible in this line of work.”
“Of course it is,” Helena declared. “It’s just not the easiest way to go about things. And most of the times, not the best either.”
“And this is the easiest way?” Findel asked.
“Oh far from it,” Helena said. “This is bending over backwards. But it’s the only thing any of us can do for a happy ending.”
Findel dropped back into the grass and sighed. “Remind me never to take on any hunt that wasn’t properly explained ever again.”
“I will,” said Helena. “But right now, we’re stuck with it. And we have to see it through.”
Findel rolled her eyes. “Yes yes, as you’ve reminded me countless times just today.”
“Lighten up,” said Helena. “This may just be one of the safest hunts any of us have ever done.”
“I’ll lighten up when we’re away, safe and paid,” said Findel. “And if that kid Erik tries to cut us short, I’ll roast him over his own hearth.”
Helena wasn’t sure if she was serious. “I don’t doubt you would. But it wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.”
“And what would be?” asked Findel.
Helena grinned. “Charging him extra for the poorly explained mission, and restitution for the emergency job-related expenses.”
Findel’s lips stretched into a matching grin. “I didn’t think you were so vile.”
“I’m not,” Helena responded before returning to the scroll. “Just using the situation.”
“Yes yes, flagon-goblet.” said Findel. “Still think it’s a poor idea.”
“Do you have a better one?” asked Helena, not raising eyes from her drawing.
“Not any you’d like,” Findel admitted.
The further talk was cut off by the sound of approaching hooves. Helena straightened up and smiled. “They’re back!”
Findel got up just in time to join her as Livia and Aeriel dismounted their horses.
“Did you get them?” Helena asked immediately.
“We’re glad to see you too,” said Livia tartly, but Aeriel shushed her with a wave of a hand.
“We did,” she said, unleashing one of her saddlebags and rummaging through it. “Old Arcadia is remarkably well-stocked,” she added, producing a whole array of small packs and bottles which she proceeded to hand over to Helena one at a time.
“Quartz dust, dreugh wax candles, infusion of black anther flower, trollbone shards,” she continued, naming every item as she handed it to Helena, which soon enough had to start handing things to Findel to prevent them from spilling over from her arms.
“And these!” Aeriel finished gleefully, producing two large bluish crystals. “These almost bankrupt us.”
“Excellent,” said Helena, accepting them into the overflowing pile. “Now we have all that we need.”
“You still haven’t told us what do you need these for,” said Livia.
“Ah, all in good time, my dear,” Helena responded with a smile. “The ingredients you got will be used to make an enchanting circle.”
“You’re joking!” Livia screamed gleefully. While magic was always fascinating to her, it was enchanting that awed her the most.
“I’m not joking,” said Helena. She was kneeling in the dirt, already carefully pouring quartz dust into intricate shapes. “Only good for one use, though.”
“What will you be enchanting?” asked Livia with no less enthusiasm than before, her minds already wandering to mythical items of divine power, straight from the mythical books.
“A pair of scrolls,” Helena said, busting into a brief laughing fit when excitement dropped from Livia’s face. “But don’t worry,” she continued. “They won’t be just some old trick scrolls like you might see at celebrations. You’ll get to wield some real magic today.”
“Me?” Livia said, feeling at first confused, then increasingly thrilled.
“You,” Helena said. “And Findel. Today, we’re going to force those giants to make peace.”
---
"I think you got clubbed in the head as a kid,” said Livia after Helena finished her explanation. “There’s no way that would work.”
“That’s what I told her too,” added Findel unenthusiastically.
Aeriel looked uncomfortable. “It… might work?” she suggested.
“Oh come on you!” Helena rebelled, a smile not leaving her face. “Some good old-fashioned magic never hurt anyone.”
Findel raised her eyebrow. “You do realise how historically incorrect that is, don’t you?”
“Oh shush,” Helena demanded. “It’s the only chance we have.”
“Why didn’t you tell us of the plan before we went to Whiterun?” Aeriel asked.
“And ruin the surprise?” Helena asked playfully.
“You didn’t think we’d go if you told us, didn’t you?” said Livia cynically.
“Nonsense!” Helena proclaimed. Nobody seemed convinced.
“If this fails, we’re all dead,” Aeriel said matter-of-factly after a short silence.
“It won’t fail,” Helena said firmly. “Aeri, you went on… how many hunts with me? Did my magic ever fail us?” Aeriel considered for a moment before shaking her head. “There, you see? It’ll be fine!”
Her enthusiasm didn’t spread.
“I suppose we could try,” said Livia. “We can’t get a refund on those now, anyway,” she continued, gesturing to the smoking remains of the enchanting circle on the ground.
“Damn well we can,” said Helena. “And it will work.” She handed the two prepared scrolls to Livia and Findel. Livia accepted hers, noting silently how warm it was. She brought it up to her nose and took a whiff. It didn’t smell like parchment at all, instead smelling heavy and biting. Findel took hers like it was something she did every day.
“Now, remember,” Helena started, suddenly becoming serious, “we must perform this without fail from anyone. Or we might be royally had.
---
The giants of Kimir’s camp went about their daily duties when they were attacked.
Nobody saw where she came from or heard her coming. It was like she just grew from the soil itself, screaming furiously and swinging her sword around savagely, her golden hair whipping in the wind.
“Come on!” Livia bellowed. “Bring in on, you mustard-brained savages!”
One of the females screeched and leapt back, her belly being narrowly missed by the blade’s tip. The children scattered, screaming and tumbling about, despite their attacker being smaller than even them. The adults trying to round them up or calm them down only added to general chaos: everyday objects were either scattered or flying about, someone knocked over a massive stone bowl full of milk, one of the giants started clubbing the ground desperately, as if hoping she’d hear him and take their attacker back.
The assault lasted for only a few seconds before Kimir regained his composure. Straightening up in his full, terrifying size, he pointed his club to Livia and roared a single word.
“Klaþur!”
As one, the giants stopped. A few moments of clarity allowed them to absorb and process what happened. That they were attacked by only one of the small people. A female, and a child at that. Few of them doubtlessly felt shame, few confusion. In a moment, it turned to anger.
She ran, and they gave chase, ground straining under the beat of five dozen giant feet pounding on it in full run. Their steps were many times that of hers. Yet somehow, she outran them. Somehow, this tiny creature that most of them could overstep ran so fast that they couldn’t catch her.
Yet, they wouldn’t stop chasing her. Days ago, she appeared with other small women, threatening their females. Now, she appeared out of nowhere, to menace them once more. Whatever she was, they had to deal with her now, or she would without doubt return once again.
Sounds from the other side of the plain drew the attention of the few. They averted their eyes from their target just in time to see a tiny green creature running from another group of giants, desperately trying to keep them away by swinging a long stick at them. Whether they noticed that their rival tribe was here or not didn’t matter. Their prey was now far more important.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Caught between two rivers of rippling muscle, the two women stopped when they almost ran into each other. They stood back to back, neither taking her eyes off of her pursuers. Yet none of the pursuers moved. Now that their quarries stopped running, they weren’t quite sure what to do next. Kimir was the one to break the standstill by stepping out. Moving relentlessly towards the small females, he raised his club to strike.
A gust of powerful wind blew from the south, scattering both females into a dense pink smoke. Moments later, the skies broke open in a torrential downpour.
---
“Checkmate!” Helena gloated, hidden safely behind a large boulder, where none of the giants could see them. She turned around, blowing off the last wisps of pinkish mist from her palms, and spoke to another figure that was kneeling next to her.
“Well done, Livia,” she said. “Excellent timing.”
Livia – the real, living and breathing Livia – barely heard her, her hands resting on the scroll that pulsed and shimmered in her grasp. She wasn’t sure how well the spell would function in her hands, so she chose a moment in which she hoped that the dramatic impression would compensate for her lack of know how, and spoke the words in which Helena instructed her.
She didn’t expect it would feel like this.
Despite the cold that she conjured, her body was washed over with warmth, from the tips of her toes to the end of each hair on her head. The blood that rushed through her seemed lighter somehow. The wind that still blew seemed to do so in tandem with her own breathing. She was aware of every drop of rain that landed, feeling beneath her fingertips what they felt when their long fall ended. Rivers of raw power seemed to stream through her. The sensation was almost overwhelming, yet elating above all else.
In that moment, she wished that the spell never ended.
“Findel,” Helena said, oblivious to Livia’s mesmerised state, “get ready.”
“Ready,” Findel responded, struggling to protect the tips of her long ears from the sickling winds.
“Aeri?” Helena called.
“Here,” Aeriel responded. She stood separated from the rest, her armour now all but removed, revealing a simple white shirt and stitched leather trousers. “I’m ready. Just… please don’t drop me.”
A pulse of power from Livia’s left drew her attention. She turned just in time to see Aeri leap into the air… and keep rising, as if carried aloft by the wind. Before long, she was carried over ten spear’s reaches into the air. Livia’s eyes dropped to Helena, who appeared to be the source of this. Her arms were stretched out, bent and straining, as if trying to keep something grotesquely strong from escaping. Her eyes were fixed on Aeriel, never wavering for a moment.
“Findel, now!” she called.
Another pulse of power, but this time, it was eclipsed by the visible effect of it. Aeriel burst into a ball of bright yellow light, that calmed down almost immediately, offering her a good look of what happened inside.
Where Aeriel once was now stood a figure of a glorious divine. A hair of what seemed to be real silver poured to the either side of her stern, yet gentle face. The shirt and trousers disappeared, replaced by a gown of blue and green that seemed to shimmer with each movement of the air. A pair of majestic wings arced from her back, comprised of what seemed to be hundreds of tiny, living leaves. The raindrops that would fall on her seemed to arc around, as if careful not to get in her way. It was beautiful, majestic, and completely unearthly.
The being spread her arms and spoke.
“Kinðr minir…” The voice that came from her lips seemed somewhere halfway between Aeriel’s true voice and the one she used to speak to the giants. Or rather, it was as if both voices spoke at the same time.
The effect all this had on the giants was spectacular. From largest to smallest, male to female, young to old, they fell to their knees almost as one, some raising their hands towards her, others planting their faces into the dirt, but all muttering something in their deep, rumbling voices in a tone of utmost reverence. It took Livia a few seconds to notice that they were repeating one and the same word, over and over again, almost like a prayer.
“Kaan. Kaan,” they murmured.
Aeriel spoke to them again, but this time, Livia didn’t even bother to listen. After all, why should the wind stop to listen to any words but his own? Why should the rain care about mortal voices. Why should she? The world around her seemed to flow, brighter by the moment. She felt nothing, yet all. She didn’t just command the wind and the rain any more. She now was the wind and the rain. The monotone chant of the giants, surely that had to be for her.
“Kaan, Kaan,” the voices spoke.
“Kaan, Kaan,” they repeated.
“Kaan, Kaan,” over and over.
“Kaan, Kaan,” without the end in sight.
“Kaan, Kaan.”
“Kaan, Kaan.”
“Kaan, Kaan.”
“Magni!” demanded another voice, nothing alike the voice of the giants, but sharp, distorted, bending in impossible ways, almost beyond hearing.
The colours, the sounds, the sensations: it all shattered in one terrifying moment before the swirling chaos of light swallowed her, immediately giving way to total darkness.
---
“Hey, hey, wake up!” Helena’s voice came from somewhere. She opened her eyes to hazy, unfamiliar world.
“There you go,” Helena’s voice continued. “Gods above, you had me worried sick.”
She blinked. Then again. With each new blink, the world became clearer and clearer. Helena’s worried face soon came into the focus.
“Here, drink.” A flask was brought to her lips, and she gratefully accepted it, swallowing one mouthful of water after another. The flask disappeared before she had enough.
“Take it easy,” Helena commanded. “You tapped a bit too deep. Let yourself go. Thank Julianos that you were naturally hardy, or you might’ve sunk too deep.”
“Wha-?” was all that she could muster. She tried to sit up, only to discover that her whole body was heavy as it wrought from iron.
“Didn’t I just tell you to take it easy?” She obeyed the unspoken order and laid back down.
“What happened?” she asked weakly. She turned her head to the side just in time to see the last of the giants leave their own separate ways.
“Aeri told them something,” Helena recounted. “Well, a whole lot of something. No idea what any of it meant. Whatever it was, they started… hugging each other. Just over and over. I think a few of them started to sob. Be happy that you didn’t have to hear that, by the way. Then they talked, for a long time too. Then the girl, Boðra, came up to Kimir, and he grabbed her and started tossing her into the air like she was a pillow. I thought my head would burst from his laughter. Then he and Garmr hugged it out one last time, and they all parted. So my educated guess is that they reached an understanding. Seems like diplomacy won in the end.”
She turned her head around and her eyes fell to Findel. She was seated near a boulder, leaning on it for support. Her skin was sweaty and took on a sickly pale shade, except on her palms, where it was stained with purple. One of her nostrils was bleeding.
“Findel…” She tried to get up but a hand gently pushed her back.
“She’s alright,” Aeriel spoke. “Just overexerted herself a bit. Can’t say I blame her. Maintaining a glamour spell of that level isn’t an easy feat. But she came through.”
“You both came through,” said Helena. “She just restrained herself better than you.” Her voice turned pensive. “I am sorry for asking you to do this. You were not yet ready, and it almost ended badly for you. I will not ask it of you again.”
“Can you teach me how to do it?” Livia asked. “So I don’t muck it up the next time.”
Helena’s face contorted into a pained smile, before giving was to a genuine one. “I suppose I could. If you have the aptitude, as my teachers used to say.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“So what now?” Livia asked.
“Now?” Helena asked in response. “Now we go collect our earnings and then we go home.”
---
The ride to Erikstead was slow and boring, but fortunately uneventful. Aeriel, who managed to pack the camp while Helena was tending to to Livia and Findel, rode on the point, leading Mederes by the reins. Findel herself, still not strong enough to ride on her own, sat atop Sieglind with Helena in the middle, and Livia rode the gidran by their side. Nobody spoke a word for the whole trip, and Livia found the silence to be absolutely blessed.
They made their way to the Frostfruit Inn as soon as they arrived into Erikstead. Once in, Helena wasted no time ordering food and drink. They spent the last day and a half without food and little water, and they very much needed both now. Findel seemed to mind her manners better this time. That, or she was simply to tired to eat to her heart’s content. While they ate, Helena sent for Thane Erik. He joined them just as they were finishing.
“My dears,” he started gleefully, “you have saved our town. The denizens of Erikstead are forever in your debt.”
Findel, who insisted on standing next to a support beam after she was done with her meal, rolled her eyes. “Just pay us and let us go home, ass,” she slurred.
“What was that?” Erik asked with genuine curiosity in his voice.
“My Thane,” Helena jumped in before Erik could deduce what has been said, “the job was difficult for us. We are all tired, and would like to depart as soon as possible.”
Eric seemed somewhat disheartened. “You wouldn’t wish to stay for a bit and experience the hospitality of Erikstead? The whole town wishes to thank you. Ah, but what am I saying? No place like home, am I right? Let me just fetch my steward and you’ll be paid what you’re owed.”
“About that, my Thane,” Helena started, stopping Erik who already half-rose from his seat. “I am afraid there have been some… added expenses.”
Eric frowned. “Expenses?”
“Yes, my Thane,” Helena continued sweetly. “I’m afraid that in order to finish the mission, we were forced to procure some rather… expensive materials.
Eric’s frown deepened. “My dear, I’m not sure what-”
“Right,” Findel muttered, pushing herself away from the beam. “Here’s what: you can pay what we’re owed, or you-”
Before she could finish, her her gaze disappeared in the distance. Her legs buckled and she fell forward, vainly grabbing onto the closest object, which happened to be a large pewter platter, laden with several flagons of the same metal. The dishes clattered on the floor, splattering their content in a wide splash
Erik was the first one to jump. “Someone call the healer, now!” he commanded as he tried to turn her on her side.
“No need, my Thane,” Helena interjected, immediately crouching next to Findel and gently massaging her head with her fingers. Sparks of blue light flickered where they touched. “I am a healer. And she is just exhausted. But I suppose that is to be expected.” Her expression darkened. “The giants, they… weren’t opened for negotiations straight away.”
Livia sat at her place, calmly listening to Helena weaving a grand story about their confrontations with the tribes, their daring escapes, and their final outwitting of the creatures. She was twisting and bending the truth, never once outright lying or saying anything that wasn’t. Erik listened intently, nodding occasionally.
“Well, if you put it that way… very well, I did say that the citizens of Erikstead are thankful to you, and I’ll be damned if I’ll go back on my word. Ermleth!” he called, getting up from the table. A man that seemed around Erik’s years, but much better groomed, stepped out of the shadow and bowed gently. “Go to the communal chest and my personal chest,” Erik commanded, “and take out another thirty percent. From each.” He turned to Helena. “I believe that these ladies more than deserved it.”
---
The trip back to the castle would be the one that Livia would remember for how quiet it was. The strain of spellcasting exhausted Findel more than anyone assumed, and she spent most of the ride asleep in the saddle, speaking very little when she was awake. Her longest monologue happened when Helena announced their increased payment.
“So,” she said weakly, “fifteen hundred all in all, eh? Nice. Can’t wait to spend my share.” She sank into sleep almost immediately after.
They seldom spoke for the remainder of the day and night, and even less on the following one, until they reached the shore, where Edgtho insisted on hearing every little detail of their unusual hunt while ferrying them across the bay. The story amused him greatly.
“Well this will be the one to tell my grandchildren about,” he said after Helena finished telling about the complicated spellcast they executed to fool the giants.
“I didn’t know you had any grandchildren,” Helena said.
“Well I don’t,” he said. “Or children, for that matter. But I’m still not too old to start remedying that,” he added with a wink. Livia laughed. Helena didn’t.
Gareth was waiting for them on a bench in the courtyard. Lormaril stood next to him, leaning on the wall.
“I bet you had some wild adventures,” Gareth said with a smirk.
“We did indeed,” Helena said. “And I’ll tell you all about it while I’m inspecting that wound of yours. You shouldn’t be out of the bed yet,” she added strictly.
“He couldn’t spend another moment there,” Lormaril said. “The company was too refined for his taste.”
Helena nodded gently. “Thank you for looking out for him while I was away, Lormaril.”
“Don’t thank me,” he cut off. “Just don’t ask for my help again.”
Helena nodded again, then went with Aeriel to bring Findel and their gear inside, leaving Livia alone with the two men. She turned towards them, only to find Lormaril relentlessly staring her down. This time, she couldn’t take his glare, and she lowered her eyes.
“I’m sorry I threw your bow,” she said meekly. “I hope I didn’t damage it. It won’t happen again.”
Lormaril chuckled. “Well, I guess you’re not a complete failure for courtesy. Or accountability. But out of my sight either way. You aren’t forgiven just yet, little girl.”
Not knowing what else to add, and fearing that saying anything at all would just revert the situation into bad, Livia obliged, taking off in the direction of main entrance.
“She said she was sorry,” Gareth said after she was out of sight.
“Sorry didn’t fix the filigree,” Lormaril added bitterly. "Arobar did, and he didn’t spare my purse for it. If she wasn't yours, I'd beat the expense out of her skin."
“So this is a favour for me?” Gareth asked sardonically. “I had no idea you appreciated me so much.”
“I have no reason not to appreciate you, boy,” said Lormaril dryly. “You never take more than you give. You keep to your word and you get the job done. You’re good enough for me.”
“Sounds like there’s more to it than that,” Gareth said shrewdly. “That goes for me, but not for her.”
“You’re absolutely right there,” said Lormaril. “She’s childish, crude, stupid, savage, rude, and more other things than I care to list now. But she’s still young. And strangely enough, seems to show some promise. If she takes up after you, she might turn out well yet.”
Gareth looked at him with surprise "I never thought I’d hear you say something like that.”
Lormaril chortled and shook his head. “First and last time for everything, Easterling.”