Silverleaf

23 years ago

Cold night air pressed around her, the squelch of wet leaves underfoot the only sound. Lady Vyra Daleborn usually gathered her plants earlier in the day, but tonight, with the full moon illuminating the wood brightly and the fall breeze cool and crisp, she had felt an inexplicable draw to take a night walk to harvest Silverleaf. The night was oddly bright, even for a full moon, as she clambered down the cobblestone path from her home toward the edge of the forest.

Not many dared to live near the woods, and fewer still would roam into them, not with the eerie accounts of those who ventured in and never returned or the farcical rumors of monsters living within. Lady Vyra was not superstitious and waved off such claims. She’d been in the woods plenty of times and had never seen anything strange or abnormal. Besides, these woods were home to many of the plants and trees she gathered to create the medicines and remedies she sold at the markets for extra coin.

With the reluctance of the local townspeople to enter the wood and gather such plants that only grew within its confines, she had unique elixirs that others did not carry. She was able to wrack up a pretty penny for some of her remedies—namely, her Silverleaf salve, which eased aches and healed infections better than any other she knew. Not that the additional income was much needed. The more pressing reason Lady Vyra continued to create the salve was that it saved many lives, and she often gave it out to those in need who could not afford it.

It was a remedy learned from her mother, and her mother’s mother before that. The harvesting of the plant, which only grew along the riverbank, brought her a sense of peace as she thought back on memories of gathering it with her mother as a young girl.

Tonight, as she approached the edge of the river—which flowed through the wood but stopped abruptly at the border of the city of Telive, where the wood ended and the city began—the silver flowers glowed brighter than usual. Everything about the night felt more alive than it usually did. She knelt down by the bank and pulled her gloves on, setting her bucket beside her. She hummed to herself as she tore petals off the plant, being careful not to damage the rest. So long as only the petals were taken, the Silverleaf plant would produce more by the end of the moon cycle.

As Lady Vyra hummed to herself, she heard a noise that sounded strangely like the cry of an infant in the distance. She paused her humming and stilled, listening. Silence. She waited a moment more, then continued her plucking—this time quietly. After a few more seconds, she was sure she heard another cry coming from east of the river.

She stopped abruptly and stood, walking in the direction of the cry cautiously. The sound was undeniably human—but what would a human infant be doing out in the woods? She needed to be sure. She feared she might be walking toward a wild creature, but Lady Vyra was not a defenseless woman. She had spent every year, from the age of eighteen until her retirement last year, in the Telive guard, where she’d become skilled in the art of combat.

Lady Vyra went nowhere without a sheath and dagger strapped to her hip beneath her cloak. Pulling the dagger free, she prepared herself for whatever danger might lie ahead.

The cry rang out again, much nearer now, and Lady Vyra felt sure this was no creature. She rushed forward toward the sound, and the sight she came upon blew her eyes wide and left her mouth agape.

There, cradled in the heart of the Silverleaf patch by the riverbank, lay a newborn girl clad in nothing. No basket, no clothes, not even a blanket. She was swaddled in nothing but the soft light spilling from the flowers surrounding her, which cast a silvery glow that painted the child’s fair skin in ethereal hues. Lady Vyra’s breath caught, knowing in that moment that this child was something precious—something worth protecting.

The child wailed again, and Lady Vyra quickly scooped her from the ground, cradling her in her arms and wrapping her cloak around her. The baby’s crying stopped almost instantly, as if she now knew she was safe. Lady Vyra rocked her in silence for a few minutes, warming the child. Once the shaking stopped, she pulled back the cloak to get a better look.

Wide, bright gray eyes—like the color of Silverleaf itself, or perhaps the moonlight shining above—peered up at her curiously. Lady Vyra wasn’t sure what to do. She was an older woman to care for a child—a woman of fifty living alone—but she was still in good health due to her many years of training. She exercised regula, ate well, and took good care of herself. She felt strong for her age.

She looked into the silvery eyes of the little girl and thought of the alternative: the overcrowded orphanage in Telive, a terrible fate for a child. Lady Vyra had much spare time in retirement, and the crown had generously paid her for her service. She could afford to care for a child. She had never had her own—her career had not allowed for such a privilege. But perhaps the child could grow to help her in her older years. And she wouldn’t be so alone.

Yes, she thought. Yes, maybe we will each save each other from a lonely fate.

Thoughts of a future with this child ran through her head, and she smiled to herself.

“You need a name, little one,” Vyra cooed. She was awed by the child’s bright eyes. “Perhaps a fitting name might be Silver—after the flowers I plucked you from, the color of your eyes, and the moonlight that shone down on you tonight. Yes, I think Silver is a fitting name.”

The baby babbled back, and Lady Vyra smiled once more. “I’m going to take that as agreement,” she said.

What were the chances she would find this baby so late, lying along the riverbank, in the very Silverleaf she had come to collect? She had never believed in fate, but tonight, fate hadn’t needed her belief—it had only needed her to be there.