Chapter 1 – The Homestead
Part 1 - betrothed
Kryda stood facing the watery entrance to her secret cave. Despite the damp chill, a small fire easily warmed the cave and after a long morning of working a heavy pickaxe and then the usual noontime fun with her working partner, best friend and lover, Fáelán, her back was moist with sweat. As she pulled her shirt back over her head, she turned to face Fáelán. He was lying on his side next to their small fire, head propped up on one arm and staring adoringly at Kryda. He put on a playful pout when Kryda covered herself, but smiled up at her fondly. Kryda sighed. This was not going to be easy.
“Look Lan, this is fun and all, but you know it can’t be more. I don’t want that kind of life.”
“Of course it will be more. The elders aren’t stupid, they already know about us. After the ceremony tomorrow, you won’t have much choice. They’ll have us betrothed on the spot and our hands will be tied within a year.” Hanging his head, he muttered under his breath with a sigh, “I wish you didn’t have to be TOLD to take me as your fáerkéile.” Kryda didn’t quite catch what he said, but she knew him well enough to have a pretty good idea. A little sadness touched her eyes, but she recovered before he could see. As she pulled her boots back on and reached for her pick, she shrugged and responded,
“It won’t matter by then.”
“What do you mean by that?!” Lan said with a look on his face mixed with concern, anger and fear. Kryda turned back to face him, determined.
“I’m leaving.”
“What?! Leaving where? The cave? You can’t possibly mean you’re leaving the village! Where would you go? You aren’t even an adult yet!” At his reaction, Kryda’s resolve waivered. She softened her voice but was on the defensive now.
“I’m as good as. You said yourself, I’ll be acknowledged tomorrow, but then what? More of this?” She gestured around the cave they’d found as kids. It was richer in resources than all of the mines near the village combined and had made their families quite rich too. They’d never told anyone where it was, but since finding it, they both knew they would take up the pick and work in this cave together one day.
“Would that really be so bad?” Lan pouted, looking at his hands in his lap. As he looked up, Kryda could see the pain in his glazed eyes. “We’ve got more here than anyone in our village has had in generations! And we have each other.” Kryda had to turn away at that.
“I know there is a lot here for me, but there’s something out there too. I don’t know what it is, but I have to at least try to find out. I have to go. I don’t belong here...at least, not yet.” Suddenly Lan’s arms were around her tightly.
“You belong with me!” Tears were streaming down his face now and Kryda had to fight hard to keep hers from falling too. Turning to face him, she looked into his eyes and put her hands on his face. She couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat; all she could do was shake her head. Lan’s expression slowly changed as he took in everything that shake meant, and surely more. He was hurt, and now he was angry. His jaw clenched, he bit back his tears, pulled away from Kryda and dove into the water to leave the cave. Kryda was sure that if there had been a door, he’d have slammed it, and she flinched as if he had at the sound of his splash. Sitting down by the little fire, she noticed he’d left his pickaxe. His name was carved into the handle, as hers had been, when they were presented with them on the first day of Trials.
Part 2 - Discoveries
They had played together as children, following their parents on some of the shorter mining trips and pretending to find rare, or more often, made up gems while knocking on stone walls with sticks. Kryda was always the adventurous one, wandering off to find new and exciting places to hide and play. She would often come home with strange and beautiful rocks, giving away the fact that she had gone well beyond where she should have been. Her father trained her extensively on survival skills since she insisted on continually pushing her boundaries further from the village. She was an insatiable explorer. The one thing he couldn’t teach her though, no one in her village could, was how to swim. The dwarves of her village would only wade just deep enough to fill a bucket of water when it was needed, and that was only if there hadn’t been enough rain to keep the storage tanks filled. Kryda would be the first to overcome the distaste and fear of open water, but not in a pleasant way. Kryda and Lan were out on another new adventure, Kryda bold as ever and Lan trying to convince her to head back. She had been inching closer to this spot for months, following the flow of a stream that often brought glimmering flecks into the village. The others didn’t think it was worth looking into for such tiny flecks, but Kryda knew that years of tiny flecks had to have come from something bigger. Her travels had lead her to a huge rock outcropping overlooking a lake so wide that the far shores were barely visible from the cliff on which she stood. This was the same lake that fed the small cove near her village. The first day that Kryda finally made it to the mouth of the little stream at the base of the outcropping, she was not disappointed. There was indeed some rich resources in those rocks. She had been given her father’s old practice pick even though she wasn’t yet old enough to choose her trade. Of course, her father hadn’t had much choice in the matter, since Kryda would take it from the rack every chance she got. When he had finally given in and let her take it as her own, she immediately marked her name under his with her mother’s sticks of colored beeswax. On the top of the ledge, feeling on the top of the world, Kryda swung her pick axe at a chunk of ore so big she would have a hard time carrying it back without a cart. Lan, cautious as ever was begging her to come down before the rocks gave way into the water, but Kryda wanted that ore. When the axe struck down, it rang like a mighty gong over the water. Kryda stopped to listen to it ripple across the water and back again. As the initial ringing died down, she noticed there was a lower rumbling as well, coming from below. She put her ear to the rock and waved away another protest from her friend. The rumble didn’t last, but she thought she could hear waves and dripping. With her ear still to the stone, she lifted her pick and struck again, this time away from the ore and just on the rock. She heard the rumble again and the ‘plunk’ of stones falling into water, but the sounds were all muffled echoes. Kryda’s eyes suddenly widened as she realized what that meant. Lan started to worry but then Kryda jumped up.
“Fáelan! Did you hear that?! The echoing; do you know what that means?! It’s a cave Fáelan! A new cave! I’ll bet it has more ore than we can fit in our pouches!” She ran back up to the edge shouting “We have to find the way in!”
“Kryda! Slow down, please!” Fáelan called after her as he carefully started climbing up behind her. “There probably isn’t a way in. Scouts have come through here before and found nothing but rock. I’m telling you...”
Kryda was lying down on her stomach over the edge of the cliff, tapping her pick axe and listening for weak spots or anything to tell her how to get in. Just then, the moss gave way under Kryda and she slipped over the edge. She grabbed at the shrubs growing from the side, but they were not strongly rooted in the rough stone, and each one broke away as easily as the moss had. Just before Kryda hit the water, she saw Lan leaning over the side of the cliff, his arm stretched out to her. She struggled to swim, but this was the first time she’d been deeper than her knees and she’d never seen anyone else swim. Besides, she was still carrying a heavy pickaxe. As her muscles gave out from lack of oxygen, she dropped her pick. She watched it fall as her mind and vision got fuzzy, but she saw it land, right next to the entrance of the cave. She thought she should be excited for some reason, but it was getting dark and she couldn’t think of anything but the sudden cold feeling in her chest and the shadow descending on her.
part 3 - escape **************************************
Kryda shook off the memory and slowly gathered the rest of their things. She had fashioned a special waterproof bag after observing that the part of her pants she’d spilled animal fat on didn’t get wet when she swam into the cave one day. With an axe on either hip and the bag over her shoulder she slipped into the water and swam to shore. She walked home slowly, enjoying what could be her last walk through this trail. She didn’t notice the darkness falling until she heard her mother sounding the horn she’d started using when Kryda was old enough to get further than her own voice could carry. Kryda searched the bag for the smaller horn she carried in case of emergency and to let her mother know that she was alright. She sounded two blasts to acknowledge that she was on her way home and ran the rest of the way.
“Kryda! Where were you dear? When we saw Fáelán come back; he didn’t look pleased by the way, we thought you’d not be far behind ranting about his cautious nature as usual.” She looked toward her husband then and mumbled to him, “You’d think after the incident when they were children that she would learn to be more prepared herself.” Turning back to Kryda, she complained, “You know, we were worried sick all that night. We sounded the horn, you didn’t answer. We sent scouts but even the dogs lost the trail at the rocks and it was too dark for those poor people to see the - “
Kryda interrupted, “Yes mum, I know. You were so scared you hardly let me leave the house for a week and even then, you’d come running after me down the path. If it wasn’t for da-"
"I think that’s enough reminiscing for tonight. Come dear, you need your sleep." Father put his arm around his wife and quickly changed the subject.
"You’re right dear, it’s late. Good night my gem." Mother gave Kryda a hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading to her bedroom.
Kryda’s father gave her a pointed look to remind her of their promise NOT to tell mother that he’d purposely distracted her so Kryda could ’escape’. He then followed his wife and left Kryda with her thoughts. As she sat quietly waiting for the kettle to boil for her evening tea, she noticed that there was still a candle burning in Lan’s room across the way. She wanted to go to him but knew that would only make this harder. She watched his silhouette pace back and forth, hypnotizing herself, and didn’t notice the water boiling over until the figure suddenly stopped. He must have felt that he was being watched, but before he turned to look, Kryda blew out her candle and made her tea by the light of the moon. She went to her room and drank her tea until she was sure that everyone, including Lan, was fast asleep. She packed up a single change of clothes and three days worth of food, strapped her pickaxe to her hip and covered herself in her sturdiest cloak. On her way out, she decided to take Lan’s pickaxe back to him, but as she was about to leave it on his doorstep, she stopped. Instead, she pulled her own out of the belt loop and propped it up beside the door then strapped his to her hip. After glancing up at his window one last time, she slipped into the shadows.
Lan was sure Kryda had been watching him, but when he looked, there were no candles burning and all seemed quiet. Maybe she had changed her mind and decided to stay after all, he thought. He kept watch by the window but the afternoon had taken more out of him than he’d realised and he drifted off on the window ledge with his head on his arms. His sleep was filled with dreams. Some were good, really good, but most of them were the worst he’d had since single digits. Kryda, lost in the bush and starving or attacked by a vicious animal, Kryda literally ripping his heart out and laughing at his foolish affections, Kryda in the arms of some foreign man...Kryda, heavy with child, whispering, “I’ll never leave you, my fáerkéile.” then fading away. Of all the horrors he’d experienced, that one was the worst. It had seemed so real and had given him hope then ripped it away. He woke with a start, wanting to scream but his throat was so dry. It seemed all the moisture in his body was trying to escape; he was covered in sweat. As he regained his sense of reality, he realized that he’d failed his attempt to watch for Kryda’s departure. He concentrated hard on her house, holding his breath, but didn’t see or hear anything. Thinking that all was well after all, he let out his breath and decided he should go to bed. As he stood up, something down below caught the light of the moon. He couldn’t make it out, but knew there wasn’t anything there earlier. He’d missed something. With tears already threatening to overwhelm him again, he ran down to the front door and threw it open. As he picked up the pickaxe and ran his fingers over the engraving of Kryda’s name, the agony gripped him. He looked around frantically, but there was no one there. He fell to his knees and threw back his head in rage.
“KRYDAAAA!”
When Kryda was far enough away from the village to not be heard, she ran. Twigs snapped underfoot and her cloak caught on bushes. If she could just make it to her first hideout, she’d be in the clear. No one, not even Lan had known of this spot. She used it when they were kids to play hide and seek, although it was a little unfair since most of the other children were too afraid to go that far. She hadn’t purposely kept it from Lan, she hadn’t even thought about it in years, but now, she was glad it was still her secret.
When she could see the gates, she thought to herself, ‘Almost there’, but then she heard a scream that stopped her in her tracks. Lan bellowed her name and the despair in his voice was like a knife in her chest. She didn’t think he’d ever made a sound that loud in his life. She fell to her knees and cried in the silence that followed. Even the night creatures had stopped their scurrying, but the night sounds were soon replaced with the sounds of angry and concerned villagers. It was the sound of her mother’s horn that finally spurred her forward again. They would be out looking very soon now, so she had to get to her hideout. She looked at the path she’d taken. It was perfect. They’d expect her to be heading this way and her tracks would end at the hard packed road to the gates. When she noticed that some bits of her cloak were stuck on the bushes, she knew that would be a problem for the next part of her plan so despite the chill of the night, she shoved her cloak into her pack. She then veered away from the road and back into the bushes, being more careful about her trail and climbed the hill that enclosed the northern edge of the village. Near the top, on the eastern side of the gates, there was a long forgotten hovel. There used to be hovels all over these hills before the wars forced her ancestors to huddle together behind the safety of the hills. Walls were built up on the outside and a tunnel dug for the road to run through the hill instead of over it and allow for the strong gates that now protect the village from outsiders. Not much was left of the old hovels, most had collapsed and only a few chimney stones told of older times. Kryda knew of one place that did not share the same fate as the rest. There were stories of a crazy old gnome inventor that once lived among her people. He mostly kept to himself, but once in awhile, the villagers would hear small explosions from his home and he would run about showing off his newest inventions. The villagers rarely had any use for his fancy gadgets, but outsiders seemed to like them. No one could figure out why he chose to live with the dwarves anyway. He lived in the hills like everyone else, but he used a lot of metal instead of wood and stone. This is what gave Kryda her hiding place. Hidden between a couple of large slabs of rock was what used to be the crazy gnome’s strange sky window. The glass was shattered long ago as the ground shifted from collapsing hovels nearby, tumbling rocks and falling trees all around. The metal surrounding it, however, remained strong and provided an opening to the only hovel that was still somewhat protected by the old gnome’s fascination with metal. Kryda carefully slipped into the hovel and found a dark corner to hide and doze off in. Even though she was still sweating from the run through the bush, she had a chill that ran deeper than the temperature of her body. She was scared. Scared of leaving, scared of being found and returned. She pulled out her cloak and wrapped it around herself trying to forget it all. She was exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. When she finally gave in to it, she dozed off with tears in her eyes. She was only vaguely aware of the distant sounds of a search that passed by before sleep overtook her.
part 4 - journey
Kryda’s sleep was plagued with nightmares of every possible scenario from this turning point in her life. In one, she turned back, stayed in her village and married Lan. It seemed sweet enough, but the deep sense of failure and unfulfilled destiny was just as terrible as the frightening dreams of moving on. The next dream, she awoke with no fear of her upcoming journey and continued confidently through the forest until she was brutally attacked by a wolf who then sat with her and watched her die. Her mother was stricken with grief in another dream and fell ill but no one could find Kryda to tell her. Father went mad and Lan married someone he hated, drank and abused his partner. The whole village seemed to have fallen to some horrible state of anger with young ones wandering off and getting themselves killed. They all blamed Kryda for starting the madness and when she returned they demanded her head instead of giving her the hero’s welcome she’d been expecting. When Kryda awoke for real, she was sweating so much that her damp cloak was quickly giving her a chill. She wanted so badly to start a fire right there, but if she intended on continuing her escape, she had to be further away before she could risk it. She flipped her cloak inside out so the drier side was against her and gathered her things while chewing a piece of jerky. She carefully made her way out of the hole that used to be the strangest home in a forgotten village. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon but Kryda could hear that the search party was regrouping already. If she’d slept any longer she’d have had to stay hidden most of the day if not all. She’d have to move fast as it was. She scrambled down the far edge of the hill that blocked her little village from the rest of the world. As soon as she hit the road, she ran; not caring about her tracks. The search party would resume where they’d lost the tracks last night. It would take them awhile to make their way past the gates and longer still to find her tracks that far down the road. By then, wind, wildlife and the couple of carts that come through every day would have obscured them to the point where no one would suspect she’d been that way. There was even the possibility of hitching a ride when one of those carts came through she thought. After a good long run, she turned into the woods to find a place to rest and eat. She was more careful about her tracks out here, just in case someone managed to make it this far down the road. Tracks are not so easily obscured in the woods.
After making camp in the woods and hunting some small game for dinner, Kryda sat down for a much needed meal and rest. She looked up at the sky in the direction she was headed and thought about the freedom she was chasing. She smiled to herself around her food then picked up Lan’s axe. “Happy Acknowledgement.” She said aloud, “No matter where I am, the axe will always be a part of me. There was never any question of that.” After she finished her meal she stared into the low flames, sipping her mead and thinking about her next move. She’d be coming up to the crossroads tomorrow and she‘d have to decide: North to the small human village or East to the gnomish capital. Her wine skin was almost empty and it was a long way to the gnomish capital but at least she’d be assured decent drink when she did get there. She’d begun packing her things when she heard a commotion from the road. She quickly snuffed what was left of her fire, stashed her belongings in a hollow tree nearby and quietly went to investigate, hoping these were travelers heading toward the gnomish city. As she approached though, she knew the voices were dwarven and staved her approach. She could hear them well but could not see from the bushes so she climbed a stout tree and was able to get closer from above.
“We should be getting back. It’s almost dark and there’s been no sign of her. I’m tellin’ ya, She’s hopped a wagon. She’s long gone by now.”
The other young man stood quietly for a moment and looked around before replying.
“It’s been windy enough to blow away shallow tracks like animals or people but not enough to cover that of a wagon wheel.” He knelt to check the dirt then shook his head. “There’s been no wagons on this road in about a week, which means there will be one; probably tomorrow. If we don’t find her tonight, then she really will be long gone.”
Kryda recognised these dwarfs as young men of her village. The first one, the son of the tailor, whose father had died of some illness when he was young and whose name she didn’t remember, was always very quiet and nervous. He would follow like a shadow behind the second one. Grick. His mother was the best blacksmith they had. His father was the second. He was just the opposite of his little shadow. As kids, they teased him that he must be half orc. He seemed to like it. Grick and the mousey one were always inseparable and Grick treated him like a little brother - always trying to toughen him up. It never worked. Kryda climbed down the tree and started back to her things to hide deeper in the forest. Just before she was out of earshot, she heard a third voice. One she could never mistake, but it was barely familiar to her now.
“Stop your bickering already. We find her. Tonight.”
He did not yell but the other two were acting like he’d cracked a whip at them. They quietly nodded and continued on their task. Kryda was frozen. What had she done? That voice….it was so hard. That would never have been a word to describe her best friend. As she released her breath, his name escaped her lips.
“Lan…”