Ishalda
Ishalda exhaled slowly. Her breath came out shaky and she was sure that even the slightest wisp of air as it passed through her mouth was still too loud. The wind ripped past her ears and threw her black curly hair loose from her hood, whipping it about as Ishalda silently begged for it to remain still. She would be found if she couldn’t hear the wood crack in warning around her first. The wind settled for a brief reprieve and within seconds a thick crack sent a cold shiver down her spine. It had to be no more than a few paces away.
Crack. Another branch broken underfoot. It was too close. Ishalda took a deep breath and looked at the ground around her. Undisturbed by men, this land was dense with bushes and thick trunked trees. Smaller saplings grew in between but neither were enough to keep her out of sight for long. The shrubs would have to do.
Slowly, ever so slowly she lowered herself to the ground and rolled gently under the clustering of bushes. Laying completely flat on her belly she hoped that her dark cloak would blend her into the roots. Crack. Ishalda had to will herself not to jerk with a start or gasp. They were so close now. She dug her fingers into the ground and pressed herself as flat as she could lay. Footsteps neared. A large cloaked man peered over the bush to the roots of the tree, scanned the ground, sniffed, and loomed overhead. Ishalda held her breath. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to keep from trembling.
Abruptly, the man slapped the bush in frustration. Ishalda almost screamed. The man turned and headed onward, continuing his search. Ishalda went to breathe but instead burst into tears. Her body shook and when she heard the faintest rustle of the leaves overhead, she immediately froze. Her eyes darted all around, but no one was there. No one was coming. The wind ripped through the forest again and she took the noise for coverage and she rolled back out of the bush and headed East. Away from where she came and the man that pursued her. Ishalda wanted to run, but until she was completely certain that she was safe she would have to travel slowly and avoid making any noise for the time being.
Each and every foot step needed to be gently placed, then rolled from heel to toe. It would be slow, but at least she was alive. Best not leave any tracks. No broken twigs or saplings to mark the path. As she grew further and further away her walking began to lax and memories of smoke and a scream flashed between breaths until the air felt too cold and her chest too tight. Ishalda crumpled into the ground and sobbed. Her home, her family, her life all burned to ash. There was nowhere to go now. She would have to start over.
The sun began to peak over the horizon and she willed herself to get up. Stop crying and get up. She needed to move now if she had any hope of getting far enough away and finding shelter. There was a town to the East about half a day’s walk away from here, and while it was large enough for her to be just another face in the crowd, it wasn’t large enough to stay long term. For now it would have to suffice as a rest stop. Ishalda hoped that she would be able to find work for the night and then continue with a full belly further east. Within a week she would need to cross the border and disappear before she was found. If she didn’t flee the country soon, her face would be on a flier pinned to the notice board of every town. Then nowhere would be safe.
Tired, hungry, and chilled to the bone Ishalda walked on. She was in the thick of the woods and by the time the sun rose high in the sky she might reach the main road that would guide her way to Eirdeen. For now, it should be safe enough to travel on, but in a few days time she would have to submit to the rough terrain of the forest for the remainder of the journey. With some luck there might even be a pair of boots she could steal. The velvet slippers she wore let through every drop of moisture and prick of a thorn through the non-existent soles. If not she would have to find another way.
A few hours later she stumbled her way out of the forest to a narrow dirt road. Panting, Ishalda allowed herself a moments reprieve before continuing her journey. She would have to go North until the next intersection and follow it East. That morning only one or two on horseback and a singular carriage passed by. No one else walking along as she was. As Ishalda passed the final marker before reaching the town she began to wonder why it was so quiet. No one wandering the streets. No voices or sounds from the granaries and markets. Even the forest was still.
The town being her only hope at stocking up on supplies before fleeing the country, Ishalda thought it best to leave the road altogether and travel parallel to it. At least this way she would have some coverage if things were as they seemed. Fifty paces and she could smell smoke and meat. Another twenty and she could see it. A tingle went up her spine, down her arms, and pulled at her fingertips. There were others there. Still lurking about, probably trying looking for her or survivors creeping out into the open now that the fight had died down. They knew she would come here. Thirty more paces and she could hear voices. She bent down and began walking heel to toe as slowly as she could muster with her aching muscles.
From the edge of the forest there wasn’t much she could make out. A couple of houses and smoke far to the left. Probably towards the center of town. Ishalda scanned the area for the men that did this. Her breath caught as her eyes locked onto five bodies swinging at the gate. Bodies burned beyond recognition, ready to greet her and anyone else that traveled by the road. She crouched down and gently dug her hands into the dirt. Bending her face to the sky she called upon the aether and let it flow gently into her. She couldn’t use too much or else they would sense her. Ishalda breathed out and willed the aether to spread amongst the ground, pinging whenever active bodies came in contact with it.
Twelve. Twelve guards and at least another five in hiding. The ones in hiding could be civilians, but they could also be guards waiting to ambush anyone that came too close. Ishalda sighed. She could go around the city and try to find holes in their patrol, or she could sneak around and risk getting caught. The good news was, if anyone else was here that could call upon the aether, then the five in hiding - who were more likely to be hiding civilians than guards - would likely be dead by now.
For now at least, she could maintain her scan and use it to move stealthily around the town. Just steal what she needed and get out. No extraneous stops or acts. There were two guards to her right and one on the other side of the nearest building. Heart hammering in her chest, she took a big breath and began. She lowered herself to the ground and stepped quickly but gently. Twisting, turning, and sometimes fumbling she made her way past half a dozen houses. The guards hadn’t moved an inch, but as she neared the center of town and her scan shifted with her, she could sense no other living beings. Even the house she stood behind was empty. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Ishalda’s eyes nor scan could sense anything wrong and yet the air around her was electric. After a moment of consideration, Ishalda gently opened the window to her right and with what little strength she had left, hoisted herself through it.
A thick cloud of dust plumed from beneath her as she landed. Choking, she stifled her cough and with a dirty hand wiped the dust from her eyes. To her horror, it wasn’t dust that she landed in, but ash. Thick ash that was blown throughout the room. What greeted her were the remains of a body charred beyond recognition. Ishalda stared at it in a daze, half unbelieving of the carcass before her and the other half wondering what else she expected from this vacant town. Her eyes flitted around the room, taking in the unmarked wooden beams and, while dusty, altogether tidy home. Even the cushions were neatly lined along the backs of the armchairs and sofa. Only Aether could have done this.
She wanted to weep. Every home must be like this. Ishalda tried to suppress images of families burned strewn throughout living rooms. Tried to suppress the screams she could hear echo in her mind. Every inch of her body felt heavy with guilt for she knew that at the core of this massacre it was for her. She wouldn’t be surprised if every neighboring town looked just like this one. Sighing, she shook her head and stood up. There had to be more in this house than just ash. In the kitchen she found a saddlebag slung across the back of one of the wooden dining chairs. No food in the cabinets aside from a small wrapped package of salted meat and a few potatoes. Upstairs she was able to find a pair of leather boots that were snug but worn into the mold of a foot that was not her own, a gray woolen dress that was just a few fingers too wide, an earthy green knitted shawl, a knitted monochromatic blanket, and three pairs of thick woolen socks. The dead can’t use this anymore, she reminded herself as she removed her grimy clothes.
Her fingertips tickled like tiny pricks of electricity as she called upon the aether. Letting it flow through her, Ishalda plucked the moisture from the air and held it in a ball around her hand. She dragged the water across her body, sucking the moisture back into the pool around her hand and dropping the grains of dirt and debris onto the floor around her as she went. Brushed it through her hair so that as her hand combed through her greasy, sweaty hair it came out bouncing back to life with fresh curls. She then used the aether to suspend her dingy clothes in the air and used the water one last time to give them a good wash. When she was done she dispersed the water back into the air and dressed. The fit of the dress was surely off, but at least it was clean. The woolen socks were a problem, however, as the boots were snug as they were on her silk stockings; and so she tucked those into her new saddlebag for another time. Ishalda put her stockings back on and packed the rest items she found away. Then finally, in the glow of her fresh wash, she cleared off the bed and fell asleep.
When Ishalda woke the sun was just barely shining from below the horizon. An ancient planet close enough to feel as if she could touch it loomed overhead. From what memories she had from what seemed long ago, she could barely remember the words of a man telling a smaller version of herself that it was a barren desolate wasteland. As a child, she used to fantasize about it being a lush paradise she could escape to whenever reality seemed a bit too real.
Sighing, she rose. Her body ached down to her bones and yet she willed herself to stand and press on. It was time to leave. One quick glance over in a desperate prayer for food, and all that could be packed was already in the bag. Ishalda clambered out the window she came from. She scanned the area quickly and found to her surprise that no souls could be found. Even the guards from the entrance were gone and something was… off. A faint stutter tingled her skin while she scanned. Choosing to proceed with caution, Ishalda move slowly. The heart of town might have more supplies, maybe even a horse she could use. There wouldn’t be much time if she was to be off on her journey, but the stop was necessary to her progression.
The stench of charred meat and burnt debris filled her nose as she neared the town’s center. Bodies burnt in the streets appeared more and more with each passing block. Every now and then she would stop to scan, but every time that tiny stutter would grow stronger. Something or someone was here. Nothing that her eyes could see. Nothing that her ears could hear. She was blindly moving now. The buildings grew thicker, the alleyways more narrow. Anyone within a building could see her within a few blocks of range. She was completely exposed.
There was a well that marked the center of town. Desperate for a drink, Ishalda rushed to it, leaving footprints in the ash that covered the streets as she did. But when she pulled up the bucket, its heavy contents revealed nothing more than thick, undrinkable sludge. When she released the bucket out of shock, it landed in the space below with a heavy thud. The air was too dry here to get more than a few drops of water every time she called upon the aether. There was nothing more she could do until she reached the edges of town again.
Surrounding her were tall, rough edged buildings that sat scorched by whatever battle had just raged through this land. Wooden shops burned down to embers. One by one, Ishalda yanked and pulled on every door handle. One or two buildings had an open window, but only one of them was of a height that she could reach. Inside she found a few coins and a larger leather knapsack to fit her things comfortably and throw over both shoulders. It was slightly bulkier, but at least she could expand upon her collection of items without the worries of limited space.
Hopping out of the window back into the streets that strange stutter… pulse? Sent a shock-wave of goosebumps through her. Someone was here and that someone could use aether. This wasn’t normal. For the first time Ishalda felt someone else calling upon the aether. Whatever was being done needed to be stopped before it took too much. Land had its limits. Soon that tingle would grow as her own energy-her own essence was drained out of her. Desperate, she followed its pull. It lead her North, almost to the edge of town, to the front of a small stone front manor. She arrived tired, panting, and her forehead breaking out into a sweat. Well-kept hedges lined its perimeter with a small, uncut meadow of a lawn. Its entirety glowed a soft, dusty purple. Overhead tiny beads of the same light traveled to gather in the heart of the manor. Ishalda took one big, deep breath and steeled herself.
She ran. The aether filled and emptied her. The surge of it nearly stripping her of air. Just as she was about to panic she felt whole again. Riding wave after wave she opened the door.
Inside was blinding. The room itself hung limp and eerie. Chandeliers still on their chains and stones solid against the rush of aether surging throughout the room. In the center of it all, crumpled over scorched floor boards and charred remains, was a child.
