The Last Resting Place

The town’s stone and wooden structures appeared bleak. Snow blanketed the town of Skystead from the dark clouds that lingered above. It clung to buildings, piling a foot or more at the corners, and layers of ice trapped the dirt roads below it. It would be like this for most of the year in the northwest region of Cecela, the weather allowing only two solid months of warmth. Residents bundled in layers of coats and scarves, hoods pulled high, trekked to the bakery, butcher, or tavern. There, they warmed themselves with conversation and heat before braving the cold again to their next destination.

Skystead was the center point for many of the towns in this tundra and a direct trade route for many. Travel and trade were an essential aspect of Skystead’s economy. Many businesses lined the roads near each gate of the town, their homes away from the heavy traffic of caravans and merchants that sold and bartered their wares at all hours.

In the town’s icy afternoon, patrons filled the Sunlight Temple, a two-story stone building near the eastern gate. Built over seven centuries ago, it had evolved from a small structure to one of majestic grandeur as renovations came and went through generations. The entrance, a set of double doors depicting crescent moons that formed a sun when closed, symbolized the temple’s dedication to Apollo and Artemis. As the town’s sole church, it was the primary place for prayer.

Compared to the flickers of light from the windows of homes and shops with lit fireplaces, the temple was splendidly alight, with multiple braziers outside and numerous sconces inside. This light was white rather than regular fire’s red, orange, or yellow. Years of arcane work had made these fires ever-burning, comforting those who passed them that they would never falter.

Inside, light radiated from more than just the ever-burning sconces and fireplace on the opposite side of the room but from the hands of a gishara in the center of the main chamber. His black hair fell to his shoulders, where the white fur of his hood met the dark blue of the rest of his cloak. His eyes glowed with radiant light as he turned from person to person, healing minor injuries on those who lay on the many makeshift beds that cluttered the room. Following him was an older woman, a human with tan skin and gray hair, whose hands shook slightly as she handed bottles of unique liquids to volunteers as they passed by.

It was rare for an orcish halfbreed to be seen so far away from the mountains, and more that they carried an ancient magic. In Skystead, this had become common once a week, as Azul Wytefang healed those he could with his limited arcane strength. While there were mages and clerics in Berkton, creationists in Westford, and alchemists in Rutherglen, few were close enough to help those in the town. Many of those in need couldn’t travel that far anyway. Further, it was a common practice for mages to charge for services, equaling ten days’ worth of pay.

The Sunlight Temple also charged, but only for a fraction of the cost. With it, they would also set aside some of the coin to make meals for those in need to take home and give them potions and medicine that would help them on their journey to recovery. An older ki’nisse, a nissebera of the goblin species, walked around with a silver bowl, taking the donations to a room in the back before returning again with the bowl empty as he made his rounds again.

The day passed, and darkness took hold outside in the early evening. As night crept upon the town, the woman walked over to a podium, where she tapped a mechanical device. It hissed and whined before amplifying her voice.

“It has been a long day, my friends. We wish for more to be done but must finish for the night.” Her monotone rasp echoed across the chamber, dampening against the wooden pillars in the stone chamber. People rose from their seats, prayed to the sun and double moon symbol above the fireplace behind the woman, and then turned and exited the building. A few volunteers were already at the doors next to a large table, where they handed out parcels of food. When finished, the volunteers cleaned away the clutter, placed the beds against the walls, and set the sheets, pillows, and covers in the corner where they would be washed in the morning. With kind smiles and echoes of farewell between them all, they exited the Sunlight Temple. The ki’nisse took a small ladder, which he used to reach the doors’ locks. He lifted his right arm up, as the slight hunch on his back made it difficult to use the left for such things, and ensured the locks were steady before nodding and giving a grunt of approval.

Together, the three of them sat alone near the fireplace.

“It was a busy day, Mia!” the ki’nisse said to the woman. “I was unable to work on anything with the racket.”

“I’m sorry, Alrick. There was much to do, and it’s getting more difficult for people to get what they need. It’s hard to grow crops this deep into the cold,” she responded. “Thank you for helpin’ with makin’ food for everyone, though.”

The idea that Alrick was helpful seemed to cheer him up slightly. He was a prideful creature, and Mia could pull on his emotions quickly. She turned the conversation as she laid a large pouch on the table between them.

“It seems we’ve made quite a lot today.” Mia took her time pulling out a handful of coins at a time and counting them. Azul had grabbed one of the parcels of food and opened it. It contained a half-loaf of bread, some dried meat, and cheese. Taking the bread out, he broke a piece off and chewed on it slowly, tired from the long work day.

“It’s getting harder to help everyone in just one day,” Azul stated absentmindedly.

“You could always stay here an extra day or two through the week.” Mia raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly.

Azul rubbed his temples and let out a long breath. “It may be what we have to do.”

Azul lived between Skystead and the Gray Forest in a small hut he had built for himself years ago. It was far from people but close enough that he could make it to the temple in half a day’s travel. It was quiet, surrounded by snow in the winter or meadows in the summer, except for the peaceful chittering of animals who grazed or hunted in the area occasionally.

“You know that we don’t use your room when you are gone,” Mia started. “You don’t have to leave; you could make more money from working more than once a week.”

“I like my home,” Azul grunted back.

Mia had finished distributing the coins into four neat stacks. She pulled four small bags out of her pocket and placed the coins into each. When finished, she handed one to Alrick, another to Azul, and then pocketed one for herself. They stared at the fourth bag momentarily, and then Alrick spoke up.

“How much today?”

“Four hundred total. I need to send a letter to Rutherglen, where they can ready a shipment for us. I’m thinkin’ of saving forty for them, which should be enough for a small restock,” Mia explained. “Forty isn’t really enough, but it’s a start. If we keep up with it, I’m sure we could buy the materials for Alrick to make some basic salves and potions over time. We’d probably not profit from it, but we’d be able to help more people by not using all of Azul’s magic.”

Azul nodded, and they sat in silence for a spell. As quiet breathing turned to yawns and the leftover food was put away, Azul walked up the stairs and down the hallway. He stopped at the room at the end of the hall, pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and entered.

There were no extra patrons on that night, so it was quiet. Azul knew that there would be noise later when Mia’s prayers echoed through the main chamber, but it had become a routine that was easy to block out. His room was small, with a bed in one corner and a window next to it that faced the town’s barrier and gave a slight view of the gated entrance. He shrugged off his cloak first, placing it on a hook near the door, and then undressed.

He brushed his hair from his face and lay on the bed. The blankets and furs did little to push away the cold that came through the cracks of the window frame. He turned toward the window and stared into the night sky, where stars flashed and twinkled as if alive. He counted them, stopping mentally to name the various clusters that made up the constellations he had learned as a child. With a giant yawn, he thought about how he would need to shave down his tusks again as they started growing out from his lips.