Weaver's Curse

That night, in Grendaal’s shrine, Sedine dreamt of a woman sitting in the spring, staring at her. She was solemn-faced, with a long scar running from her left temple, across her nose, all the way to the right side of her chin. Sedine met her dark gaze unflinchingly.

“Are you Grendaal?” Sedine asked softly, finally breaking their long silence.

“Aye. In a sense.” She said.

“Ah. Hello, then.” Sedine said.

“Are ye searching for the Weavers, lass?” Grendaal asked.

“My friend is. I’m just along for the fun.”

“Their residence is wrought with peril, lass.” Grendaal warned. “Those that face the most danger, are those who’s souls are steeped in sinfulness, as mine was.”

“Thank you for the warning.” Sedine said.

“Heed my words, lassie. My time in this place reaches its end.” Grendaal said.

Sedine didn’t wake up this time, and instead fell into an actual, dreamless sleep. She woke to morning light, and Vassa shaking her awake.

Strange. Grendaal must have visited my dream. Do we share ancestry?

They hadn’t shared many common features, but it could have been hundreds and hundreds of years since the woman had lived. It wouldn’t be that likely for her and Sedine, the daughter of a tavern wench, to look similar.

“I think we should take some of the water.” Sedine said.

“But the warning…” Vassa said.

“As long as we don’t drink it, it should be fine.” Sedine said. “We might be able to weaponize it.”

“Oh, good idea.” Vassa agreed, pulling out a spare canteen and filling it.

“I’ll carry it, just in case.” Indeara said, taking it. “And we’ll need to buy you a replacement in the next village.”

“Okay, but I’ll be going in by myself.” Vassa said. “Either of you might get recognized.”

“Is that safe?” Indeara asked.

“I’ve had to pull on a knife on a few rowdy customers before,” Vassa said cheerfully. “I can handle it.”

Sedine believed it. Vassa might have seemed like the fragile one of the group, but she had a core of iron. Growing up in a place like Yester did that to a person.

“We’ll stop in this village here, Wormwood.” Sedine said. “We’ll need to stock up on supplies, so I think it’d be best if either me or Indeara accompanies you, to carry everything. Either of us could disguise as a boy if needed.”

“Okay.” Vassa agreed. “But we need to be extra careful.”

“Actually,” Indeara said. “It might be safest if the three of us go together. They’re probably watching for two girls matching the description of Sedine and me. Not three girls.”

“Good point. However, then you run the risk of one of them recognizing you two, and Vassa now being associated with you.” Pinky pointed out.

“You’re right.” Sedine agreed with Pinky. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, I guess.”

The four set out into the wilderness, the canteen full of Grendaal-water safely tucked into Indeara’s pack.

Some of the previous night’s anxiety had worn away, but Sedine still fought the urge to glance over her shoulder every few minutes.

Indeara, however, was relaxed enough to hum softly as she walked. Sedine vaguely recognized the tune. It sounded similar to the old folk song, On The Creekbank, that Cadence had taught her to play on the flute.

Kind of a weird song to hum to set the mood for a day’s walking, she thought.

In the same vein as most folk-songs, it told a tale of tragedy. So, maybe Indeara’s mood wasn’t as light as she’d assumed.

“What’s that song you’re humming?” Vassa asked.

“Our Meeting.” Indeara said.

“I thought it was called On The Creekbank?” Sedine said.

“That is not a title I’ve heard.” Indeara said apologetically.

“It sounds sad.” Vassa said.

“I suppose it does sound a bit melancholic,” Indeara said. “It’s a love song, though.”

A love song? To the same tune of a once-popular tragedy ballad?

“Tell me if what I’m humming sounds like what Indeara was.” Sedine ordered. “I swear, it sounds just like this old folk-song I know…”

She began to hum the song, and she saw her friends nodding.

“It does sound similar.” Vassa agreed.

“Nearly identical, actually.” Pinky said.

“Weird, right?” Sedine said.

“Yeah.” The other three chorused.

They made it to their last destination before ascending the mountain, and sent Vassa into the small village by herself to restock on supplies.

“I hope she’ll be alright.” Indeara said worriedly.

“She’ll be fine.” Pinky said, completely unconcerned. “She once killed a feral boar with an axe. I was very proud.”

“Oh.” Indeara said. “Hardcore.”

“Right?” Sedine said. “I didn’t start doing stuff nearly on that level until a few years ago!”

“I might have. Who knows.” Indeara said. “If I did, I must have been good at it, because I don’t seem to have any serious scars.”

“Here’s the beauty of your situation, kid.” Pinky said. “You can just make shit up and no one can disprove it. Not even yourself.”

“Good idea.” Indeara said. “Hey Sedine, did you know I once eloped with a prince?”

“Love that for you.” Sedine said. “How did that work out for you?”

“Oh he died of pneumonia.” Indeara said. “I had to hide out in the Loann wilderness until the rumors that I did him in died down.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“So after that I went and became a travelling mercenary, where I met back up with my supposedly dead ex-husband.” Indeara continued.

“Oh?” Pinky said.

“Yeah, it was very awkward. We just kind of froze and pointed at each other for a few minutes.” Indeara said. “Then we went to catch up over a few beers and he introduced me to his new girl.”

“He left you for someone else?!” Pinky shouted indignantly.

“Yeah, he sure did.” Indeara said. “But it’s alright, because then I eloped with her too. I’m sure he was very devastated when he woke from his drunken stupor and realized.”

“What else is one to do in that situation?” Pinky said, doing the hog equivalent of a shrug.

“So… what happened to you new wife?” Sedine asked.

“Who knows?” Indeara said, smiling secretively.

“So you mean you can come up with a backstory like that, but the best name you could improvise in a pinch was Mildred?” Pinky asked.

“Entirely different situation.” Indeara defended herself. “I’ll try and do better next time.”

They fell into silence until Vassa returned, then they began their trek up the mountain.

They climbed until it was too dark to see. They shook out their blankets and huddled in a circle to sleep.

“Is no one the slightest bit worried about the predators they say live up here?” Pinky asked. “I don’t know what a coyote is, but I don’t think I’d be friends with it.”

“You’re a light sleeper, just wake us up if something starts gnawing on you.” Sedine advised.

“Yeah, I’ll blow them up.” Indeara said.

Sedine was immediately yanked into someone’s dream as soon as she fell asleep.

Salazar, Ryle, and Fayen were waiting for her, their expression ranging from neutral to disgusted.

“Stalkers.” Sedine sighed.

“We know you’re in Jethro’s Peaks. We’re going to find you.” Ryle said.

“Alright, you do that.” Sedine said, feigning a nonchalant expression.

Ryle and Salazar exchanged a look that said, ‘are we sure that’s where she is, she didn’t react?’, which had been exactly Sedine’s intention.

“If that’s all you’ve got to say, I’ll be going now.” Sedine said.

“No. You stay right where you are.” Ryle ordered.

“Mm, don’t really want to.” Sedine said. “And Ryle? I’ve gotten much better at knife-fighting since my dear cousin nearly murdered me for the second time. Want to see?”

It was a bluff. She probably wouldn’t be able to overpower Ryle. Especially not with the other two around.

“Try it, bitch.” Ryle snarled.

“Hey now.” Fayen said. “Let’s be civil.”

“Oh yes, let’s.” Sedine said. “You just stand back while I eviscerate our stalwart prince. I hear you’re quite good at that sort of thing.”

“I hope the three of you have a nice vacation in the mountains.” Sedine said. “I’ll be minding my own business. I hope you all have nightmares tonight!”