The song
“Would you fancy a song, Terilian?” asked the silky voice of a girl in a bright, green dress and with blond curls.
“Isn’t it better to ask those traders on the right or the boys on the left? Tables brimming with drunk, cheerful folk ought to pay better, right?” replied a woman with long, black hair while her enchanting, brown eyes were focused on the green eyes of her newcomer. Her face was unmistakable one of a Terilian, a nation of refugees from far away.
“They already got their songs! After all, I see how you are dressed. Purple silk is not something you will successfully hide with that cloak, nor will you have more luck with that silver necklace on your chest. Anyone can see by your stature alone that you are not from here. I’m sure you will spare a coin for someone who will sing you a song to soothe a broken heart, won’t you?” the bard concluded, still leaning on a round table in the corner of the tavern where, with a single glass of wine on her table, a Terilian woman sat.
“Broken heart?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t take it the wrong way, it just looks like that, you know? Something about you...” the bard was quick to explain.
“I will not take it the wrong way. However, I will also not be requesting a song. The last one you sang suited my taste perfectly. ”
“A ballad about Sigrin and Jolene?” Ah, well then the heart must be broken after all. I wonder who hurt you for you to have to identify with Jolene. With her eternal selfless pursuit with Sigrin. For the unrequited love, the curse and her plea, for the cruel fate from above and ... “the bard continued shrewdly.
"Death that set her free.” the black-haired woman finished the verse.
“Right on! Are you sure you don’t want me to sing it to you? ” the bard asked, taking her lute in her hands, hung around her shoulder.
“If I said no, would you still stay?” The guest asked. The blonde girl paused for a moment, startled by the question. She spent a few moments thinking of an answer.
“I... Strange question... Yes.”
“Strange answer.”
“Yes, it is. But hey, if I’m to keep you company, you’re not going to be paying for it. I don’t want my company to be paid in coins, ” stated the bard as she sat at the table.
“What can be paid with?”
“Travel stories, those you surely have a lot of. I want to hear how people live in other parts of the principality. ”
“Oh, I traveled far beyond this principality.”
“All the more reason to talk! But first the important thing. Your name. ”
“Nera Veres,” the Terilian offered her hand. The handshake was accepted.
“Catherine.”
Catherine did not earn a single coin more that night. The tavern was getting ever less populated as the late hours of the night became the first hours of the new day, and the bard and traveler shared a table and stories. Nera told her of the places she visited. From kingdom Yoreland to the far, half-mythical Urgindi empire. She mentioned kings and beggars, knights, and petty thieves. People of all occupations and standings. Catherine absorbed her words, regularly asking questions, and often mentioning how some of Nera’s stories could easily be turned into great songs. Nera certainly enjoyed her company, but she hid it well. Her face betrayed only a very discreet smile on her rosy lips. Catherine, on the other hand, was not so modest. She laughed loudly and very noticeably enjoyed the company of the mysterious Terilian.
As their conversation grew older and deeper, doing so despite Nera’s relatively concise and scanty answers to any question concerning her job or the purpose of her arrival, Catherine inched increasingly closer to her interlocutor on the other side of the table. At one point, she leaned over a table that now had more than one empty glass, and her hand touched Nerina as she talked about something completely unimportant from her childhood.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” Nera said, changing the subject out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?” Catherine said, confused.
“You did the same thing before, with another lonely female passenger, and before that with the mill girl.” Nera said coldly and directly as ever. Catherine found herself taken aback, backing away with her hand and hiding her gaze in the corner of the room.
“Is this a trick? Did someone pay you to trick me? I’m a good lady! I only offered you friendship. For two women to be friends is not forbidden!” said Catherine, disappointed, angry, and a little scared.
“No, no one paid me. And I didn’t know this until a minute ago. The only reason I think this now is because we are still not alone.” Nera said calmly, pointing to a table with two very drunk men about ten meters away. They were the last guests of the tavern.
“What about them? They couldn’t have told you anything!”
“I can hear what this flap-eared one is thinking. The other, on the other hand, thinks about how the lord’s tax has burdened him too much and that his wife will somehow blame him for that. He is already preparing to punish her with a beating for as of yet uncommitted act of suspicion and disrespect. ”
“But how can you know what they think? Wait, you’re a witch, aren’t you? I knew there was something around you! From the beginning, it is if don’t belong where you sit, among the normal ones. Um ... not normal, but ... ” the blonde bard tried to correct herself once again.
“Don’t worry, Catherine, I will not take that the wrong way either. And worry not about the rumors. The flap-eared man has already forgotten what he was thinking a second ago and will not tell anyone what he saw here, alcohol will take away his memory soon enough. Both of them will leave soon if I’m not mistaken. They grow tired.” Nera explained. Events unfolded as if she was writing the course of fate herself. Waving to the innkeeper, the last two patrons staggered out of the tavern.
“I should go home too. The innkeeper should be allowed to sleep, I think.” said Catherine, pausing before adding timidly: „Have you rented a room?”
“I have,” Nera said. She couldn’t resist smiling a bit as she stared at the two nervous, green eyes under blond curls. “.., but it won’t be a problem for me to escort you home.” she added, sparing Catherine the awkward question that a good lady certainly shouldn’t ask. Her heart was pounding and her lower lip was tucked in from shame and excitement.
Leaving the coins for somewhat diluted, but otherwise enjoyable wine, Nera escorted the girl in the green dress to the streets of a small, commercial town by the river Urve. The warm August night was of clear sky and a full moon, illuminating the path for the two women as they approached the fence of a house they were heading for. With a finger over the mouth and suppressed giggle, the companions snuck into the yard of Catherine’s home, taking care that no one noticed this rather immoral affair. They soon entered a low, country house, modest but quite suitable. Catherine lit candles and closed the heavy curtains while Nera studied the embroidery on the decorative carpet on the wall.
“You live alone? I find that hard to believe.” Nera asked.
“I’m married, not alone. Yet, I certainly live alone.” Catherine replied, making an alcohol-shaken, inelegant movement through the doorless way to the bedroom. Nera followed her, standing tall and perfectly stable despite the drinks she enjoyed that evening. Catherine threw herself back on the bed, spreading her arms in a stretch.
“Trader?”
“Yes, he is in Viceria at the moment. He sells carpets and spends on women of short dresses and high prices.” said Catherine with a giggle.
“You don’t seem too upset.” Nera remarked.
“No reason. I would be doing the same if I could.” said Catherine, rising to her elbows and shooting Nera a look, unusually confident. “Wouldn’t you?”
Nera, characteristically, gave no answer. Instead of words, she took action. Taking a few steps forward, she found herself leaning over her host. Without a single superfluous word, their lips touched and the magical breeze extinguished the yellow light of a candle a moment before the silk dress fell to the ground.
The light did not return to the warm room until the light of the morning that crept through the heavy curtains, making a bright line across the two naked bodies in an embrace. They were both awake, though their eyes were closed.
“Do you have a spell to push the sun back below the horizon?” Catherine asked in a whisper, her lips near Nera’s neck.
“I am afraid not. The time of our evening has passed.“ the sorceress stated, finally opening her eyes as she played the curls of her embraced mistress.
“Oh!” Catherine sighed sadly, straightening up and stretching. The crunch of her back was followed up with soft steps as she got up and headed for the bucket of wash water. She didn’t care to wear her green dress. Nera watched her, but she didn’t smile.
“How did you sleep?” the sorceress asked.
“Wonderfuly!” the bard replied without turning around.
“What did you dream about?” Nera asked. She too was out of bed now.
“Ah, I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter, does it?” Catherine replied after only a second of pause. And yet, her hesitation was noticed. Turning around, she saw Nera in front of her as she had never seen before. Her lips were tightly sealed. Her face appeared very serious.
“A man without a face.” Nera said. A cold shiver went through Catherine. She took a step back. She tried to hide her thoughts but in vain.
“No, no, why would she say that...” she stammered, still trying to keep a cheerful giggle.
“A figure that should not exist at all. One that speaks without a mouth and observes without eyes and whispers through the pages of a book that you can read even though you are illiterate.” Nera continued. She took another step toward Catherine, and she, in turn, took another step backward, toward the living room.
“I... why does it matter at all? Why are you here?!” Catherine asked in a trembling voice.
“You know why I’m here. You knew since the first time you saw me. You feel something around me. Like a scent or an aura. I saw him too. The Nameless One.”
"The Fourth." Catherine whispered.
“Yes.” Nera replied.
“And you too hear his whispers? Then you know he’s not evil, right? He wants to help, to raise! He understands!” said Catherine, who has had visions for months about a faceless being who promises her so much. The strength she lacks and the freedom from the society that binds her with its rules designed for false gods. However, as soon as she said that, she saw that Nera’s intentions and opinions about the Fourth were different. “You’re one of the others, aren’t you? The Watchers. That’s the symbol you have on your chest. ” Catherine pointed her nose at the organ with a silver pendant in the shape of an eye, which was the only thing Nera was wearing.
„You, you want to stop him! To drive him into the shadow!” growled Catherine in a voice that seemed to be someone else’s. The air in the room grew cold, and Nera’s fingers clenched into a fist.
“I want to save humanity from that disease that you call salvation. From a falsehood that wants to see the world traped in a sleepless night that will end us forever.” said Nera, firmly and clearly.
At the same moment, the whites of Catherine’s eyes became the color of liquid mud, and a terrible scream of the servant of the Fourth came out of her mouth. She threw herself at Nera, but never reached her. Instead, with the force of the hurricane wind, she was thrown in the opposite direction, hitting the wall and falling to the floor like a rag. There would be no other attack, Nera knew this. She caught her early. The transformation into a true follower to the Fourth has not yet taken place.
The Fourth chooses his followers with care. Rarely were the people he has chosen those of pure malice, although there were some that were. More often than not, they were people of good intentions and with real problems that they could solve only with the help of a mysterious, apparently benevolent, and a quite powerful savior. And yet, the desire to do good would always, in time, grow into a true following of a Nameless God, and the Fourth would have a new victim. A lone bard with a soft heart and love that was forbidden among honest folk was easy prey.
The cloud of white plaster dust slowly calmed down while at the same time soft sobs began from the convulsed girl on the floor. Nera did not look at her with an expression of anger or combative focus. Instead, she felt sorry for her. She always tried not to do that, often successfully. Still, this time she failed.
“Don’t do this, please don’t do this,” whined Catherine, who couldn’t bring herself to look up.
Nera was silent.
“Please, I’ll take to hiding. I’ll go away, far from here, both me and the book. I won’t hurt anyone, just let me go.” she said as she got on her knees and looked pleadingly at the sorceress, her hands folded in prayer.
Nera remained silent.
“I swear, I swear on the Fourth. Just let me go, I don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t have to kill me, tell your order you did. I will even give up the book, here I will!” Catherine crawled hysterically to the bed, under which she pulled out a book with a simple, black cover. She took it in her hands and offered it to Nera, but the mage backed away. She didn’t want to take it.
“You can not. Even if you left the book to me, you would wake up one morning and find that you had written it again, from memory. Maybe on the paper of some other book, maybe with chalk on a wall of a cave, and maybe with your own blood. It will be stronger than you. I’m sorry, Catherine, I really am, but it’s too late. I have to do this.” Nera said. At last, their gazes met. Shabby green pupils against Nera’s determined, penetrating gaze. Catherine was confronted by her executioner.
“Please don’t do this. We loved each other tonight. We did! Why would you do that, why? Why wouldn’t you just kill me sooner? Are you that evil? That cruel?!” despair turned to anger in Catherine’s voice.
“No... It’s not cruelty. There were a hundred other ways to catch you alone. I simply didn’t know it would be like this. Your song reminded me of something, and as I was lost in a thought you approached me by yourself. You felt what you all feel, the smell of a marked person. The one the Fourth wants dead, only you don’t know how to recognize it yet. What happened yesterday was real. We did really love each other that evening. But the evening is over, the morning has come, and my duty is waiting.” said Nera.
Catherine knew what awaited after these words. In a desperate move, she fled. She threw herself past Nera and towards the exit of the house. The wild, naked escape from certain death was just that - postponing the inevitable. Exactly four steps away from her front door, Nera’s spell reached her. Bard’s heart was constricted as if grabbed by a fist. Her lungs were out of breath and all strength was taken away from her. She slumped on the dew-covered ground, her hand over the heart that Nera had gripped with her magic, stopping it forever. Her green eyes and songful lips were wide open.
The people who condemned her so much during her life saw her dramatic death. Several peasants, namely women, were around, getting ready for the morning work. They saw the one who was always rumored to be a deviant, the carpet dealer’s wife, running naked, and an equally naked stranger appearing after her. They saw that the sorceress had killed her, and witnessed that she stood over her body for a few more moments without shame or haste, staring into the eyes of the dead girl. Then they met with her penetrating eyes and that sent them to flight to hide from the sorceress-killer. And, when they reappeared from behind their cover, they did not see her. The sorceress disappeared without a trace.
The murderer took nothing of value. There was nothing missing from the home of the unfortunate bard, except for a single book.
