I wrung my fingers as I stared at the wobbly wooden table. A teaspoon of cooked rice for each of us lay in our cracked ceramic bowls. I was the eldest daughter of my family, Izilim Garvotti. My five younger brothers and sisters had grown thin over the weeks. Our farm wasn't doing well. Locusts had attacked our crops, and mice had stolen most of the grain. Our cousin across the sea brought rice, and we were on the last portions of it.
"Why can't we go stay with Aunt Villery?" I asked my parents.
"They're in the midst of war with the empire," my father, Gosom Garvotti, responded, his brows furrowed. The years of fighting for the empire was etched in the scar by his ear where an axe had almost sliced off his head. Dark brown hair covered most of it, but the red, angry skin was still visible, especially when he scratched his head in a stupor or exasperation. "This is child's play compared to what they're dealing with right now." His protesting dark eyes seemed to grow even angrier.
I shivered, but I steeled with resolve as I tightened my fists. "It doesn't have to be like this. Adventurers come by every now and then. I could go with them on their next expedition!"
My father brayed a laugh. "You? A woman with a group of men? They would rape you and leave you to die on the side of the road!"
My mother's face had been neutral until she smiled. She was known as a proficient healer for the village, Elliann Garvotti. Strawberry blonde hair was neatly done in a bun, reflecting her composed nature. Kind hazel eyes moved between us. "There's a way, dear husband. Remember?"
My father rolled his eyes. "Don't put those ridiculous thoughts into her head, I beg of you!"
"They're not ridiculous at all!" she admonished. "Daughter, come with me." She held out her callused hands that told of years working in the fields. My hands seemed tender in comparison.
We walked to the stone wall that bordered our farmland. It wasn't impressive, standing to our waists, but it did its job marking our territory. It reminded me of stories bards told as they passed by.
"The wall of Blathe's victory." The young bard's hands had touched the top, and all the stones had glowed ocean blue.
I had marveled at his show of light magic. Not many people I knew were capable of it.
"Blathe has the eyes of a volcano, a body of unbreakable stone, and weapons from out of this world," the bard had told us over the campfire. "The spirits of shadow, sombests, and the spirits of light, luzinn, have fought each other for centuries. The gods were exasperated with them, and so, Blathe, the beast from hell, was set upon the earth to end their quarrels." The bard had glanced at all of us before he continued. "It's rumored that music calms the beast, but no one has encountered him and lived to tell the tale."
The rest of the night, he had sang an old battle song that reminded me of being smuggled out of the empire.
It was said that shadow spirits possessed the emperor, and his decree to exterminate all magical families in his empire set the wheels in motion. The village of Gisser in the unexplored continent was a welcoming refuge. No countries claimed the unexplored land, for many believed it was cursed. I was starting to think the same after witnessing locusts eat our crops and mice take our grain.
Adventurers and bards were our source of information, so we treated them well as they passed through. Many of them didn't make it home. The stories from survivors were horrifying. Most of them had lost an arm or leg after encountering sombests. Mother did what she could for them, and some managed to live by the skin of their teeth. They also became filthy rich after selling their beast goods in the black market.
Why was I willing to risk my life for such riches?
I took a deep breath as I thought of my brothers, Dolo and Gyn. They were as goofy as they were mischievous. My sisters, Strye, Cinny, and the youngest, Riley, strived to look their best to catch the hearts of the young men in the village. I wasn't interested in any of the village idiots, rich or not. Besides, we were all feeling the strain from the damage of the pests.
The setting sun threw shadows that seemed to creep across the earth. A strange orange glow emanated from one of the stones on the ground. My mother grabbed it and pulled it out. Inside the hole was a pendant that seemed to contain the sun. Beside it was a black jewel that pulsed violet.
"What are these?" I started. She placed them in my hands and smiled.
"Take great care with these. The orange pendant will light your way. The violet one will warn you of danger."
"Thank you, Mother!" I cried as I hugged her. As we strolled back, I bombarded her with questions. "Where did you get these? Are they spoils from past victories of the rebels? Bandit loot? You have got to tell me!"
Her worried eyes gazed at me as we stopped at the front door. "Listen to your dreams," she whispered, "no matter how silly they seem."
That night, the room felt too stuffy with seven people. I stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air. The full moon illuminated the dead crops. It only gave me more resolve to become an adventurer. What group could possibly have use for me? My mother's herb lessons flared in my mind. A great healer was indispensable! I climbed an old oak tree and sat on the highest branch that could hold my weight. I stared at the twinkling stars until my eyelids grew heavy.
My heart raced when a rustle sounded behind me. I turned around and kept my spear low to the ground, ready to strike.
Whispers emanated from the darkness of the forest. Something fast flew by my ear and nicked my skin. I wanted to scream, but it felt as if someone was sitting on my chest. I felt my arms swing out to push away whatever was on top of me.
I suddenly awoke, my lungs feeling as if I had been holding my breath. I gasped for air and almost fell off the branch. A pair of golden eyes studied me from the shadows. My brows furrowed as I followed its quick movements in the air, like a hummingbird. "What the hell is that?" I muttered.
"Sorry if he's scared you," a young masculine voice uttered from below. The golden eyes flitted towards him with an adorable squeal of delight. The owner of the voice was covered in monk's attire: hood, robe, cloak, and sash. He could've stepped into the shadows and I would be none the wiser.
"Who are you?" I queried, wary of anyone traveling at night.
"I've heard at the tavern that you're looking for a beast-hunting group, and you're excellent at making potions. You are Izilim Garvotti?"
"That's right!" I started, my heart pounding with excitement. "Which group are we joining? Heather's? Gritton? Oh! Don't tell me it's Zalar! I've heard he's terrible!"
The monk was silent for so long, I thought he was praying.
"They're all dead," he informed with a dejected tone.
I jumped to the ground, a bit shocked. It had been last week since I had seen them! Heather had left three days ago. She was my best friend! She wouldn't be so careless! I approached the monk with fast strides. "What?! How?!"
"Shh," he whispered.
A low growl crawled out of the darkness from the forest.
The hair on my neck stood on end as I turned to see what it was.
The golden eyes bolted towards the growl, and fast footsteps headed away from us.
"I need your help," the monk admitted. "I'm willing to pay you 3,000 holls a week, and 1,000 extra for every group member that lives. I need the blood of Blathe."
My heart dropped. 3,000 holls would set up my family for life! 1 holl a year was enough to feed ten houses! 1,000 extra for keeping others alive! My mind raced as I thought of the target. Blathe, the beast from hell? Why his blood? My mouth opened to ask him, but the monk briskly turned around to head back to the village.
"We leave in three days," he notified. "Meet me at the tavern tomorrow night if you wish to join us."
Golden eyes flew to his hood and rested on top. Even in the moonlight, all I could see was a round shadow where the tiny body would be.
The hoots of owls filled the air.
"Something doesn't feel right about this," I mumbled. What kind of person pays 3,000 holls? Could he be someone sent from the empire? My gut told me not to trust him. There's someone behind him brewing things up. What use could he possibly have for the blood of Blathe? Wasn't he made of stone? My eyes narrowed. This expedition seemed like a farce. I had to find out more.
The next morning, I went straight to Heather's family to see if they had heard anything. Heather's expedition was supposed to be for a week. They were focusing on Drinops, snake-like creatures that were as big as horses, for their armored skin and expensive fangs. My heart dropped when her mother retrieved a silver engagement ring that Savion had given her. It was unmistakable with the letter H engraved into it by his hand.
"This was found in the river by the girls when they were washing clothes yesterday," she explained with teary eyes. "Her hand was still attached to it." She covered her mouth and sobbed. I embraced her with a calming hug and cried with her. Heather was always bold as she was beautiful. She was stronger than five men, and the villagers were sure she was the daughter of the luzinn god, for her bright golden hair and positive manner. I just knew her as a lavish loudmouth ready for action, and she made a living with expeditions. My thoughts lingered on the fact that she wouldn't be so careless. Savion was returning from the black market in the east, after all.
After grieving Heather's possible loss, the unmistakable jingle of Savion's bells sounded an hour later.
He was the same bard I recalled as a child, and now, his heart would be broken. My eyes teared as he glanced at all of us from the door.
"What happened?" he started with a worried gaze. "Where's Heather?"
Heather's mother handed him the silver ring, and the whole house grew quiet.
"It was found in the river, still bound to her hand," I explained, for her mother was exhausted and couldn't go on. "The rest of her wasn't found."
Savion stared at me, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock. "What-what do you mean? She's not stupid; she wouldn't go on an expedition right before our . . ."
Wedding. He had proposed to her and she had promised to marry him when he returned.
At this point, his tears flowed, his hands trembling with anger or sadness, I couldn't say.
Such a kind soul didn't deserve this heartbreak, but I wasn't his goddess. She disappeared in the depths of the Sombest Forest or beyond.
I held him fast as we walked out of the stifling house and sat with him beneath an oak tree at the edge of the market square. It was our favorite spot to talk and eat lunch, just the three of us.
A gentle breeze seemed to kiss our faces after I had dried his eyes with my sleeve.
"I just found out myself last night," I explained. Savion kept his sad gaze on the silver ring. "A strange monk met me at the border of the farm, and he offered lots of money to help him get Blathe's blood. I agreed to it, and when I asked who'd be joining us, Heather, Gritton, or Zalar, he said they were all dead. He must've hired them, and they all died because of the risk."
Savion worked his jaw as he looked up at me. "What else did he say?"
My stomach growled in response, and I covered my face in shame. "I'm so sorry! I haven't eaten since yesterday."
His gentle hands pulled mine away from my face, and he placed a loaf of bread and venison jerky in my palms. Even though my stomach protested, I took one tiny bite of each and saved the rest for my family.
"He said to meet him at the tavern tonight. I have to do something for my family. I can't let them starve!"
"It's very dangerous, this path you're taking," Savion began. "Should you meet a beggar, offer him what you can, even if it's your last crumb. Should you meet a witch, show kindness to her, even if she slaps you. Should you meet Blathe, sing to him. He'll let you into the Forbidden Land once the beggar and witch tell him what you've done."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "If only Heather and the others knew this."
"Anyone with a kind and pure heart would simply pass his tests," Savion remarked. "He has no sympathy for the wicked, you see."
"What about this business of the monk wanting Blathe's blood?" I queried.
Savion shrugged. "If I had to guess, it would be some form of blood magic, perhaps a way to control him."
I gasped as I thought of the empire unleashing Blathe's wrath against its enemies. I couldn't let that happen! If I went with the mysterious monk, could I prevent such a dismal fate?
"Is there a way to warn Blathe?" I wondered.
Savion slowly shook his head. "He's too proud to run from a fight."
"Warrior mentality," I muttered. "Is there anything else I should know?"
Savion stared at me for a moment and smiled. "Be confident in yourself, my dear. Blathe has a weakness for strong women." I showed my skinny arms and he laughed. "I mean mental fortitude."
"Thank you so much, Savion!" I cried.
"I figured I could pass on my secrets to someone worthy of them." His downcast eyes meant he was thinking of Heather.
I hugged him so tight that his ribs groaned. "I can't thank you enough!"
He patted my back and sighed. "Don't kill me, I beg of you."
We laughed at the silliness of it all.
"Get some rest and drink this," I offered as I handed him a rejuvenation potion. "I'm sure you want some time alone to . . ."
He sipped the potion and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Izzy. I really appreciate this."
I nodded and stood with him.
As he carried his satchel and headed into the village, he sang the song of Blathe's legend.
Gather now children, somber be born.
Gods have the reasons to feel rather scorn.
Shadow and light twas never to mix.
Battles and wars over who has whose sticks.
Be it the hell beast to gather them up.
Throw them aground with a harsh gruff.
Blathe is the hell beast with Devil's Dare.
A single look at you freezes the air.
Gather now children, luzinn be born.
Gods have the reasons to feel so forlorn.
Shadow and light twas never to mix.
Battles and wars over who has whose sticks.
Be it the hell beast to gather them up.
Throw them aground with a harsh gruff.
Blathe is the hell beast with Devil's Might.
Roars from within drown over the night.
Gather now children, and get your good rest.
Blathe will be hunting each night for his fest.
Worry ye not, for here he'll not harm you.
Cross his line through, and your life will not join you.
I trembled as I watched Savion leave. If there was any man I could choose to marry, it would be him. He didn't treat others with disdain or contempt. People were his life, and he enjoyed their presence as much as they did his.
In my heart, I knew he would be sad with me. I wasn't obliging or content with anyone or anything. Everything had to be my way or no way at all. He wanted to save me from Blathe's tests, for he knew I would spit at the beggar and punch out the witch's teeth.
Was this why the pests had descended upon us? Punishment for treating others like trash?
I stared at my callused hands from working the fields. Why was I doing this? Thinking awful thoughts that weren't making sense?
Golden eyes emerged from the shadows at my feet. They flashed violet before vanishing in a puff of green smoke.
My mind cleared, and the terrible thoughts faded. What was that?
When I turned around, my youngest sister was standing there with a blank stare.
"Riley?" I started. "What are you doing?"
Riley's curly blonde hair blew onto her face with a fresh breeze. She blinked her hazel eyes and seemed to return from the dream world that my mother called Sonyatado.
"What did you see?" I continued.
Riley took a deep breath and sighed. "You have a chance with Savion," she whispered. "If you take his proposal, will you be happy?"
Sometimes, it's knowing yourself that can protect others.
"Don't worry," I assured. "I'll choose the path that fits me. I suggest you do the same."
What was my path? I decided to head to the tavern to get an idea of what the monk's intentions could be. I had to keep Blathe's power from the empire. What better way than to know the enemy?