I headed out the church doors, Ember following closely behind me. I was contemplating if I should invite Claude. It simply felt right. I did not want to put him in danger, yet I also knew that he would be safer with me and Gaelmar’s kindflame. Besides, whatever you do and wherever you hide, danger falls on everyone eventually. That was the promise of the Undending Chaos. It won't end. It will spread even through the brick walls of cities and the high towers of the last king. There was danger in not doing anything, in tending to one’s farm, in holing yourself up, in helping each other.

I also realized that whatever I did to keep him safe ever since we came to Rothfield... Rothfield, or whatever kind of force out there, was intertwining our paths.

I looked at Ember sniffing my boots. I remembered his flaming swords, my first blessing of arms. I don't want to put too much stock in fate, but whatever is in the lake, I think Claude and I were supposed to face it together.

I was already making my way to his farm after praying for banishment, dispelling, and protection when Claude appeared on the arched pathway leading to the granges. I waited for him at the steps of the church. He was admiring the rye and oats growing healthily on the granges. He saw in my eyes that I had something important to say.

“I see you have your sword with you.” I pointed to the sword attached to his waist.

“I had a strong feeling that I should bring it today.”

I chuckled to myself. Curiously, Ember yelped softly when I told her to come with us. I was already holding my arms out to her when she shook her head and stood at the center of the church door. Maybe we would not need his sword, after all, I thought. I shrugged. Better prepared than not at all. We passed the early activity of the villagers of Kent; they tended to their flock, chopped trees, and cut wood for houses and pews. We passed through the arched trees and noticed that there were few remaining scorchberries in the bushes. We would have to stop collecting them for now. Claude and I tossed stones and broke small branches and twigs to mark this new path, the steady thump of axes against wood fading in the distance.

“There’s a new part of the forest that was awakened,” I told him, stepping over a boulder. Our boots crunched dried leaves and other debris scattered on the forest soil. I closed my eyes and crouched, allowing the forest to guide me in its depths. Claude looked at me curiously.

Finally, when the sun was almost at its zenith, he and I stumbled on a new, cleaner path. Mount Lhottem was a looming figure in the background. We continued down the path, noticing that the branches of the trees looked almost like they were pointing ahead. We walked forward until the path spread to a wide clearing of grass. Beyond that was a great still lake. Before that, was a great stone obelisk.

The lake was almost like in my vision.

It was unmoving, soundless, quiet. If we were two common children from the town of Rothfield, we would not dare draw near its edge. Or perhaps Claude, being the adventurous type, would grab his shepherd’s staff or a branch lying around and break the surface of the water. But even he looked uneasy. It looked like the grey eye of a dead animal. As Claude observed the lake, I inched toward the obelisk.

There was writing etched on its surface in Old Yarbo, the Language of the Saints. It says: Wake Me. I touched its surface and was given an instant message. I needed to offer more prayers in person to the dish sitting on top of the pillar. It also presented me with a numerical value of the prayers to fuel the kindflame needed as an offering. Again, this had to do with the power and influence Gaelmar’s name carried in these parts. We must reclaim the many territories of Rothfield from the miasma with their holy influence.

Fortunately, I have more than enough harvested prayers to light it. I also noticed a sharp, needle-like thorn at the base of the obelisk as if waiting for someone to prick their skin on it.

I closed my eyes, Opened my palm, pressed on the thorn until it broke my skin, and channeled the amount of offering it needed from me. My blood glowed as it flowed from the thorn, running around the obelisk, snaking its way to the top. My blood hovered like blobs of raindrops until it glowed once more to ignite a grand flame. Claude looked back and went to my side. I hid my arms under my cloak.

“It looks like the many torches in the cavern where we saw Ember’s corrupted form,” he observed.

Warm wind from the fire circled this place. Claude pointed suddenly at the lake. At the center, slowly spreading to replace the greyness of the surface, was a pleasant blue that reflected the heavy clouds.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“The lake is coming to life,” I said.

We watched in wonder as small ripples started appearing on the surface. Whatever denizens the lake housed, it was awake now. I wondered what would have happened if we had jumped into the lake. Would we have seen nothing? Would we have seen fish and other animals eerily floating in place?

A soft rattling came from the obelisk. Out of nowhere, as if it had a compartment, a long pole dropped from its side.

“What is that?” Claude said in amazement as he bent down to inspect the thing. It looked basic and polished black with a curious lure already attached to it.

I looked at the curious tool; noting its long body, the strong stringy thing running from tip to the base near Claude's hands. There was a lever there that reeled the elastic back in. "I think it's used for catching fish."

“Huh. Usually, we just use nets made from strong fiber." It did not take long for us to figure out how to use it. We looked at it and back to the lake. "Since we’re already here…”

“We might as well see if we can catch something,” I agreed.

Claude laughed at the absurdness of it all. He offered it to me but I smiled, shaking my head and pushing it back to him.

“Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

All the nervousness out of our system, we stepped close to the edge and looked at our reflection in the water. He looked up at the sky, preparing to cast his line. “It’s a pleasant day today, considering.” He let out a short chuckle before he threw the fishing pole back and cast the line, checking how long it reached. “Hm. It isn’t that far.”

We watched the lure sink into the water. “It has been so long since I fished.” I felt him looking at me. “You want to feel the water, Ryne? You can take your boots off and sit on the edge.”

Why not? I thought. I did so, and to my surprise, Claude copied me. It has occurred to me then that we barely saw one another’s skin save for our heads, and his neck and arms. Unlike him, my tunic had long sleeves. My feet were so pale. I washed myself every night, with a wet cloth, clean water, and a soapy mixture Wilbur invented before. But I didn’t see my body. Now I felt conscious, especially with Claude’s leaner build. He had scars on his ankles, I saw. I dipped mine into the water and closed my eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

“You were right. It does feel good,” I murmured.

“Fishing is a quiet pastime for some. My father used to do this to relax before all the rivers and lakes were reserved for lords and guild members. If you wanted to fish, you had to pay.”

“Fish all your heart’s content here, Claude,” I said.

We sat side by side... I leaned on his shoulder. We stayed like that for a while until I felt movement. The water was tugging him. We looked at each other and jumped back. Claude reeled the line in and I felt like a child jumping up and down, cheering him on.

“Quiet!” He chuckled, stepping back. “You might scare the fish!” He pulled on the lever, tic-tic-tic, his arms rotating in circles. The pole was being tugged forward as the fish fought for its life.

I stopped yelling and saw the line inch toward us slowly. Then, the surface broke with a flapping cold tail. Now both of us screamed in wonder. Claude pulled it back to the surface and the fish flopped on land until it stopped moving.

Claude breathed out and inspected the fish. His voice was soft. “It might be a common enough fish, but this is a clean silvergill. I hadn’t eaten this since–”

“You were with your father years ago.” I looked at the branches scattered on the forest soil. “You want to make a fire?”

Claude looked up at me. He grinned. I helped him collect a small amount of dry twigs and branches and let him light the fire with dry stones. While he did that, I retreated near the obelisk and started banishing Blake with a prayer. He skewered the fish with a long smooth branch and we took turns cooking the silvergill over the fire he made. The smoke blackened its scales. Once we were done, he put out the flame and tore out a piece from its belly, and blew on it. He offered it to me.

“You caught it. You bite first.”

“I insist,” he pressed the soft flesh to me. “It’s going to be bland, though.”

I didn’t mind. I took it from his fingers and bit the soft flesh. spitting out small bones. I didn't realize I was hungry. Maybe he was too. I realized we hadn't even had breakfast yet. We passed the day eating the silvergill until there was nothing but bones. We threw the bones back into the lake for others to feed on. I checked his motes. There was none. Not surprising, since we did not cook the fish with my flame and added no special ingredients to it.

“What a good day,” Claude said, lying on the grass, hands catching his head.

“What a good day.” I copied him. Our feet were back in the water. The clouds rolled by, thin wispy clouds under thicker, darker ones.

“I hope Lord Bahram doesn’t ever find this palace out. I hope the dark forest keeps its secrets,” he whispered, yawning. He closed his eyes.

I looked at the obelisk with the flame like a giant torch. I wondered if waking up parts of the dark forest meant that it was allowing the mystery to life and the forest more open to exploration. Or would it still only deem the worthy souls to enter its depths?