Chapter 2

Feyth raced into the village, running quickly but not as quick as she did in the forest. She found running in the village uncomfortable, there were so many people watching and getting in the way, she was sure she would injure somebody if she was not careful. The moment she leaped over the bordering fence, the smell of food hit her, inducing her to stop and eat lunch, as it was the hour for it, but she rejected the thought almost instantly. 

The village lay deep in the wilderness, on noticed from a distance by the tall clouds of smoke rising from the chimneys. Their village wasn’t the smallest, but it wouldn’t be considered large compared to the towering cities and larger villages, scattered across the land. 

The population, according to the most recent census was between 150 to 200 people, hardly a number to be proud of. Their village, Solare, was located very close to Ourer Lake. They acquired a lot of food near the lake, including, but not limited to, water birds, fish and creature that roamed around the lake’s perimeter. The lake was connected to the ocean by a river, which, similarly to the lake, was called Ourer River. The river’s water ran south, into the ocean. 

Also not far from Solare were the distant, snow-capped peaks, the Eivarel Mountains. It was a tiny mountain range compared to the more magnificent, but it was still a gorgeous sight, especially from Solare. Their village’s position was prime, other villages would envy their amazing placement, which allowed their village to flourish throughout the decades since it had been first founded.  

Feyth had returned to the village with a mission to accomplish, find the village’s top healer and get her to heal Korin. On issue would be the trust, would Korin trust a new stranger, one who could possibly be hostile? Feyth had to take the chance, if she wanted to save his life, again. Simple, except it wasn’t as simple as it sounded. 

During lunchtime, everybody was outside or inside, eating with their families, the narrow pathways and trails were crowded with people buying food from scattered stores and the town was filled with sounds. Midday was always this noisy, during midday most people did their daily shopping for food and essential items, when the sun began to drop from the sky all the people would have already disappeared. 

The sun was still high in the sky and shining down upon the people its glorious light. It would be difficult to find the healer in a place this crowded, especially if you had no idea whatsoever of where she would be, or even where she lived. 

Feyth would have given up in a single heartbeat, had it not been the desperation of the given situation, the life of a cyjur was in her hands, a responsibility she was strangely willing to accept. She headed to her own home, her house where she knew her father would be. She slowed when her house was in view, a ramshackle home. Her father had little wealth since her mother died, they had moved from their original home, a fairly respectable environment, one where a child could safely grow up. When her mother died, they were left with the meagre earnings of her father, they were forced to move to this house. 

It was falling apart and not exactly somewhere where you would have a cup of tea, but cosy just the same. She grasped the handle of the rickety wooden door and pushed her way into the house, the door often got stuck and wouldn’t budge. Inside, the house was a lot better looking than outside. There was a warm hearth, the fire dancing gracefully, the flames licking the stone chimney. The chimney was the only stone part of the house, such luxuries could not be afforded, so they were stuck with wood.

The floor was carpeted to avoid splinters, though the carpets were full of holes and covered in dirt. They were rough underfoot and held the faint smell of cabbage but they still allowed Feyth to avoid splintering her feet on the jagged floorboards. She took the few steps to cross the house to the fireplace, stepping lightly along the way. 

Sitting in front of the fireplace, staring into the hypnotic flames was her father. He looked so frail for a 50 year old man. He was losing it, becoming delusional. Her mother’s death took its toll on him, soon he would die, orphaning Feyth, leaving her to look after herself. She prayed the time of his passing was not soon. 

Feyth placed her hand upon his shoulder, on contact he flinched. He then turned his head to look up at her, the motion slow and reluctant. His teary eyes glowed in the firelight, the tears glistened and when he spoke, his voice was deep and mourning. 

“Hello Feyth, you don’t look so good,” he was speaking of her stricken facial expression, that of a person who had seen a horrific event. You don’t look so good yourself, she didn’t dare speak the words, they were insulting to her father. 

“I was out in the forest, I was tracking,” she replied, sitting on the floor, cross-legged, in front of him. He leaned forward, cupped her face with his hands and stared at her face.

“Your face…you have a mark, on your beautiful face.” She smiled warmly, his remark pleased her.

“It’s only a scratch, I’ll be fine!” She placed her hands on his and slowly removed them from her sore face. While she had been running, returning from her encounter with Korin, she hadn’t been watching where she was going carefully enough and her face had been slashed by a sharp tree branch. It had left a gash across the right side of her face, which was now red and slightly swollen, though it did not cause an enormous amount of pain, it only throbbed a little. He released her face and rolled back into the chair. 

“Father, do you know where the healer, Shazkai lives?” she asked softly, gazing into his eyes. They instantly filled with anger and confusion.

“Why would you want to see that crazy old coot?” he said, as if disgusted by the outrageous question. Feyth was insulted by his rude comment. Crazy old coot? Feyth had long admired the skills and immense knowledge of herbs and healing. 

“I need her help, that’s all,” she replied, the bitterness in her voice evident. He shrugged lazily,

“Go ask Reyah, surely she knows where she lives,” he said gruffly before closing his eyes and drifting off into a troubled nightmare revolving around his dead wife. Feyth frowned at him from behind his back before turning and exiting their shabby house hastily. She closed the door lightly, as to not wake him from his slumber, though she was tempted to slam it. 

Feyth understood why he disliked the healer, she had upset him greatly in the past. When he had been announcing the marriage to the village, an ancient village tradition, every couple abided by, she had denied them the right to marry. Every healer must allow the couple to marry before they would be allowed to wed, but with no apparent reason, Shazkai had refused to grant them what they desired so severely. 

After much begging and desperation she finally gave in and gave them her blessing. Her father never forgave Shazkai for her unacceptance of the couple’s love. Feyth had approached Shazkai, once, to ask why she had denied them marriage. Shazkai had told Feyth with reluctance. Shazkai had known for years  that Feyth’s mother, Akhia, could not give birth without losing her life. She also knew that Akhia would not tell Feyth’s father, Lenoris, that she would die if she gave birth. Shazkai had tried to prevent the death of Akhia, but could not keep it up forever. Her attempt to protect Akhia had failed. Feyth had full understanding of Shazkai’s reason, which she had justified with great depth and detail.

Feyth had no grudge against Shazkai, but she couldn’t say the same about her easily provoked father. Funnily enough, her mother had not died during labour. She gave birth to two healthy children. She died a different death, one more tragic and horrific. Feyth could not remember her father, Lenoris when she was a child. He seemed to appear in her memories when her brother was born. 

Feyth muttered to herself inaudible sentences, speaking to herself about Korin and his injury

 when she spotted Reyah. She was relieved she had found her to easily. 

“Come back, Sweet Pea! Come back!” she was calling loudly. She was chasing after a small golden dog with large black, gleaming eyes and his tongue lolling out and he galloped away from her. She stopped at the edge of the path and bent over, putting her hands on her knees and panting heavily. “Come, back,” she groaned before taking off again, beginning the chase once more. Feyth quickly raced after her. 

“Hey, Reyah, wait up!” she called quickly before the 9 year old could disappear from her. Reyah stopped and spun around, soon noticing Feyth and smiling widely. 

“FEYTH!” she squealed in excitement. She ran towards Feyth, her hands outstretched. When they were close enough, Reyah jumped into Feyth’s arms. Feyth lifted her up in a huge bear hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how have you been?” Feyth grinned at Reyah, putting her back down on the ground. 

“I’m great,” she replied, beaming. She was truly glad to see Reyah again, they had been good friends when Feyth had looked after her during the time when her mother had been dangerously ill. She had no father, similarly to Feyth having no mother. They got along well together, Feyth hoped their friendship would last many years. Reyah looked around both shoulders before looking back up at Feyth. 

“Have you seen Sweet Pea? He ran off again,” she sighed in defeat. 

“No, sorry, not since I saw you chasing him,” Feyth gave a small shrug. Reyah moaned in disappointment, “I’ll never catch him!” she exclaimed. “Hey, Reyah, you know your grandmother, Shazkai, where does she live?” Feyth inquired, changing the subject so she could find the healer quickly. Korin was running out of time. Reyah nodded then ran off, waving her hand in a gesture that instructed Feyth to follow. She bounded after Reyah, dodging past a few people. Reyah ran through many narrow pathways that Feyth could barely fit through, but Feyth continued to follow the child until they reached a large house. 

Smoke was billowing from the chimney, a slightly blue colour which startled Feyth. Blue smoke? That isn’t natural! Shazkai was quite strange. Reyah knocked on the mahogany door, a loud rapping that disturbs Shazkai. 

“Who is it? What do you want?” she grunted. Her voice was cracked and sounded old. Shazkai had seen many years go by, maybe her time was coming soon, she was many years old then her father, Lenoris. 

“It’s me, Reyah! Can we come in, grandmother? My friend, Feyth wishes to speak with you,” Reyah said, bubbling with excitement. A large clatter came from inside, metal, wood, stone, all tumbling and crashing about the place. 

“Feyth? But it’s been so long. I thought she would never come visit me again.” she muttered as she opened the door gingerly. Feyth nodded at the woman who stood in front of her. She was quite short, as Feyth had remembered distinctly but her hair was pale grey, unlike last time they met. Before her hair had been a light golden blonde, it had gleamed in the sunlight distinctly. How strange it was that her age would show so suddenly. Her eyes were deep blue and teary, but it wasn’t due to emotions. Maybe there is dust in her eyes, that clatter surely sent dust swirling? Feyth had no clue, but nevertheless, she smiled at Shazkai confidently. 

“I need your help, it’s urgent,” she said which for some unknown reason made the healer perk up a little. 

“Does somebody need healing? Do they want my help?” she said, excitement pricking at her skin. “Nobody wants me to heal them anymore, they all say I’m too old.” she muttered, not trying to hide her words from Feyth and Reyah, nor directing the words at them. It was true, everybody thought that with her old age, Shazkai would be unreliable. 

Nowadays, Shazkai spent her hours brewing liquids in her now rusting cauldron, the cause for the blue smoke. She had amazing skills that no other person in the village possessed. Sadly, nobody other than Shazkai actually knew this. Feyth did not doubt the healer, Shazkai had kept her mother alive for 2 and a half months while she was dying, a feat no other healer could even have come close to accomplishing. Feyth’s aunt had told her this time and time again, trying to tell Feyth that there was nothing that could be done to save her mother. Feyth had translated it as, Shazkai is the greatest healer ever! 

“Ah! Reyah, come inside, I have another concoction for you to witness,” she said kindly to the child, beckoning her to come inside. “You too, Feyth,” she added quickly, not forgetting Feyth. Inside SHazkai’s home, Feyth was impressed by the abundant supply of herbs and liquids, all for the purpose of healing, or so she supposed. Shazkai shuffled over to her bubbling cauldron and stirred it with a wide wooden spoon. “It’s going to rain sometime soon,” she mumbled, beckoning to Feyth and Reyah. They walked over and peered into the depths of the liquid. The liquid was blue, the same blue of the smoke. Of course! The smoke was blue because of the liquid! Feyth suddenly felt quite silly, she had though that an ordinary liquid was producing strange blue smoke, blue liquid producing blue smoke made much more sense. The water suddenly became calm and unmoving. 

“Watch,” Shazkai whispered, pouring into the pool a tiny amount of an unusual black liquid. The black liquid was contained in a small glass bottle, once poured out of the bottle it automatically refilled itself. Amongst her bewilderment and confusion, Feyth noticed the ripples in the pool revealing an image. The image produced was of grey clouds. The clouds began to release their burden, raining down upon the land. This pool was telling them that it would rain, Shazkai truly was amazing. She wasn’t only a healer, she was a shaman, capable of performing arts of magic. Few people had knowledge of magic, only shamans and the five sorcerers. 

“You’re a shaman!” Feyth exclaimed, staring at Shazkai quite rudely. Shazkai nodded, affirming Feyth’s theory. Feyth couldn’t help but smile, there were many stories about shamans. Nowadays they may seem idle, but back when there were many shamans, they did heroic things. Healed people who had no chance of living, fought great monsters that were thought to be myths and went down in history. During the current era, shamans hid from ordinary people, shunned out of existence, accused of being insane. 

“What is it that you came to me for?” Shazkai said wearily. She sat down on a wooden rocking chair and placed her frail hands on her knees. Feyth looked down at Shazkai, wondering how much she should tell her. What if Shazkai told the rest of the village, what if they killed Korin? How did she know Shazkai wouldn’t do something horrible to Korin, what is shamans really were insane?

“Can I trust you with a secret, can I trust you to help me rather than yourself?” Feyth said, sitting on the ground, cross legged. 

“It depends on what you want help with, my dear,” Shazkai replied, taking a quick glance at Reyah, who was still staring into the cauldron in complete and utter awe. 

“I have a friend, he’s injured and he’ll die if you don’t come. He’s a…cyjur,” Feyth said reluctantly. She hoped that Shazkai would agree to heal him rather than kill him. Shazkai expression changed from amused to serious. Privately, she contemplated whether or not to agree to save the cyjur. She could easily redeem herself if she brought it back, but that would be a terrible crime. 

“Of course, it’s the right thing to do, I should help you heal the cyjur,” she said vaguely. Feyth was not sure if she should trust Shazkai, the answer was too unsure, Shazkai seemed too distant. Feyth looked at the healer’s eyes. They were slightly glazed, staring into nothingness. She was not concentrating on what was around her. Feyth raised her hand to Shakai’s face and snapped her fingers loudly. Shazkai woke from her unnerving daze and focused her gaze on Feyth. 

“I will help you, I honestly will, as a shaman, it is my duty,” Shazkai said, more firm and sure, though slightly distressed when saying shaman. She rarely confirmed that she was a shaman, to do say she was so openly to Feyth was going against the way she had lived for years. “If I can trust you with the secret that I am a shaman, surely you could trust me with the life of a cyjur?” Feyth had to admit, Shazkai had made a logical point. Shazkai was Korins only hope, she had to trust her. 

“Come with me, I’ll take you to him,” Feyth said, standing up and walking to the door out of Shazkai’s home.  She swung the door open and stepped out. Sweet Pea barked in warning, as Feyth was taking her step but his warning came too late. Feyth tripped over the tiny dog and fell, face first into the dirt with a yelp of surprise. She landed on the ground with a thud and a groan. She lifted herself with one arm and rubbed her forehead, as her forehead had hit the ground first, taking most of the pain. 

Feyth sat up and glared over at the dog. He was barking madly at her, circling around her with his tail wagging up in the air. He looked not only joyful, but full of glee. Nasty creature! She thought to herself, but took it back instantly when he began to lick her forehead. He understood, fully. It was strange the way animals all seemed a whole lot more intelligent than people thought. 

“Hey, Reyah! I found Sweet Pea.”