3.50. Nine (Patreon)

A handful of clouds had come out to obscure the moon, darkening the village except for where the watch fires burned. A cold wind swept past. It was midnight on the longest night of the year; you’d think it’d be quiet and peaceful, but the sheltered animals cried out in a mishmash of crowing, lolling, braying relief. The humans too. There was cheering, and people started singing, the song spreading through the village until every voice was raised in exhausted exultation.

My translation didn’t do the song justice:

“Another year survived. We’ll mourn our losses, but those who live must live on until another year is survived. We thank the gods and the spirits, the fighters and their supporters, those on the walls and those in-between. We mourn our losses, but the Path to Perfection calls—another year’s survived.”

I stood in the doorway to Mumu’s longhouse listening, and it finally sank in that the Long Dark was over. The end had been.... messy. And complicated with questions, but that was my life in Diaksha, wasn’t it? That which appeared simple at first was complicated once I started digging.

My stomach rumbled, and it settled before having to run back to the chamber pot. I felt like I’d shed twenty pounds I didn’t know I’d been carrying. The rest of me was worn to the bone, however, and whatever sleep I’d gotten earlier hadn’t been enough.

Yet, I couldn’t rest. There was a chance some clever creature would take advantage of the moment to attack the village, and if that didn’t happen, there was still work to do—sometime within the next twenty-four hours to forty-eight hours, Voorhei was going to be buried in snow.

###

After I assured my team I was feeling better, I took my place on the wall alongside them. Mumu gave me a long look before putting a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. I let myself lean against her as we looked out at the tree line.

Meanwhile, the village bustled with activity as the militia broke down the bodies of all the creatures we’d killed and ran the meat and organs through the alchemical processes to cleanse them of poison. A few had been working throughout the Long Dark to prepare, but the villagers now moved in earnest. A whitish-gray plume rose from the village’s smoker, a steady presence through the wee hours.

People cheered at dawn’s first light, and another song broke out—this one more hopeful. To celebrate the new year, a runner brought us bowls of pork and corn porridge drizzled with maple syrup. A little later, Teila brought Billi and Ali to the west gate. She’d led them in sneaking away from their duties.

It was hard to see the children haggard and with dark circles under their eyes, but they were also giddy for having survived. I hugged them so tight and realized that their bodies and spirits felt different. A shock ran through me as I remembered that they were all ten years old now!

Everyone gained a kutha’s worth of silverlight at the end of the Long Dark, which after ten years totalled fifty sliverlight, the milestone for Level 1. Billi and Ali had caught up and were now the beginningest of adults...

Billisha Eightsdaughter (Human)
Talents: Skinner, Leader of the Pack
Nascent Talents: Qi Initiate

Aluali Eightsson (Human)
Talents: Skinner, Hard-Working
Nascent Talents: Empathetic

There’d be a big, village-wide celebration in the spring to celebrate all the kids who’d reached Level 1, but in the meantime, my team surrounded the children to congratulate them.

Billi looked toward me before answeriung. “Ali and I are both artisans, but my path is focused on people as well as making things.”

“Mine is about understanding my craft,” Ali said. “And I’m Hard-Working too. I can feel it.”

“That’s right,” I said. “It’s what I see in your spirit, and Billi’s new talent is called Leader of the Pack.”

Billi’s face fell. “We... ah... we were offered slave paths.”

Teila nudged her from one side and Ali on the other. “And survivor ones too,” he reminded her.

Billi nodded at that, but I still pulled my adopted children in for fresh hugs. “The past shapes us but doesn’t define who we are. What matters is how we choose to be, all right?”

“Yes,” they each muttered into my shoulders.

“We’ll talk to Sheedi about getting new spirit maps. She’ll help us understand your paths. Have you told Bihei  yet?”

Billi spoke into my shoulder again. “Not yet. We wanted to see you first.”

“Then go to her next. She’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

The kids readily agreed, and after one more hug for good measure, Teila led them off to find Bihei. How they had the energy, I had no idea.

Once they were out of view, my team’s good cheer continued. Then Haol asked, “You didn’t want Billi and Ali to become hunters?”

“It wasn't my decision to make, but I’m glad they chose to become artisans. We talked about it and decided as a family that it suits their temperaments better.” I offered him a wry smile. “Besides, it honors their original families, and I don’t think I’d ever sleep again if they regularly fought creatures like that stray musk ox or the necromancer elk.”

“I feel the same way about Dena,” he said.

Mumu poked him. “You don’t worry about me?”

“Not all,” he said, laughing.

###

Teams of people swept the fields clear of stakes and covered the leg breakers. Children ran among them to collect spent arrows. The villagers worked tirelessly to take down the interior defenses too—the spikes on the rooftops, the braziers, the tubs full of arrows, and the bundles of spears.

Mana was flowing again, so the injured were brought to those who knew the Healing Water spell. Tegen and Haol tag teamed the war dog, while Mumu and I helped Ahlrein.

The land soldiers were grateful, of course, and promised not to mention what we’d done to the Healer’s Lodge. As for Ahlrein, he was badly shaken up. Teila told us afterward that it’d been the closest he’d ever come to dying, which had her feeling upset too.

At noon, the village’s leadership gave the all clear to enter the woods, so my team and the land soldiers escorted a group of militia members and their oxen. We kept watch while they attached the corpses of would-be invaders to the oxen’s harnesses and dragged them back to the village.

Afterward, we accompanied the dog riders to go looking for Musa and Jesei. We found the two only a hand-width apart. Jesei had tried to reach Musa until the very end.

There was no sign of their ghosts. They’d seemed to have moved on together, which was a thought I rolled up with all the others I didn’t want to consider. There’d be time for somber reflection once the village was snow-bound.

###

Even during the village-wide funeral held later that night, I didn’t think too hard about our losses. Mostly, I was running on autopilot. Everyone was, with people ready to fall over from exhaustion, but it was a tradition that the bodies be burned the evening of the first day of the year, so that was what the villagers did.

It had sounded like a strategy to avoid zombification when I first heard about the practice, but seeing it in action, it might also be a way to not carry the weight of the losses into the new year. There was a shared meal afterward, and singing too—weary, graceful, somber, hopeful.

Some people fell asleep where they sat and were gently helped home. My family stayed long enough to participate, but we left early into the proceedings.

The militia took responsibility for the walls that night. A group of them had slept during the day, so it should be all right to leave things to them. Plus the Long Dark was over. The creatures of the woods were also likely collapsed in exhaustion too, needing days and days to recover.

Still, I didn’t fall asleep right away. Desperate as I was to do so, I had to will myself to let go of the tension. Muscle by muscle, I gave myself permission to rest. Except, the littlest sounds jolted me awake. Even with my family around me and Yuki singing lullabies—gods bless them all—I couldn’t stop picturing the dead. Their trampled and torn-apart bodies, the fear on their faces, and the determination too, despite everything thrown at them.

Eventually, I slept—long, hard, dreamless, and yet still uneasy.

###

Snow fell as promised over the next few days, burying the village in a blanket of white. Although my anger issues seemed to have greatly diminished, I still felt restless, so I occupied my hands with tending to my gear, as well as our animals and helping around the longhouse. Of course, Yuki and I also experimented and worked to decode the Rain Call spell.

None of that was quite enough, though, nor a replacement for getting out and moving. I would’ve braved the snow to visit Ikfael and the Glen, but my phone reported an extreme weather warning—the approach of a series of storms, one hitting after the other.

Bfore the storms hit, though, a ding from the village’s alarm caught my attention, and sweaty-palmed, I grabbed my spear to head out. It was probably fine—a peddler or traveler who wasn’t known to our village core—but I’d feel better making sure.

My family saw me off with knowing, pitying looks. I mean, I understood there was a ninety-nine percent chance it was nothing, but that remaining one percent... I had to know, so I put on my snow shoes and headed out.

At the east gate, I saw Tobin’s team escorting a land soldier wearing Knight’s Ithia’s badge, and I followed them to Dwilla’s house, making myself a fly on the wall for the meeting between him and the village’s leadership team.

I wasn’t the only one either. All sorts of people gathered in a circle around them, stuffing the Dwilla’s sitting room with busybodies. We listened as she reported on the Long Dark, and Koda described the impact the losses would have on village life. There were also a short presentation from Mumu on how the Hunter’s Lodge stood, and Sima Simason talked about the state of the fields and animals.

Sima was Dwilla’s father, master of the Farmer’s Lodge, and my new best friend once he’d learned I could predict the weather. At the moment, my weather report was only good for a ten-day forecast, but even that was gold given its precision. Apparently, the farmers’ weather magic was notoriously fickle.

The messenger took notes throughout, and Koda picked up again to talk about the children who’d turned Level 1 by year’s end. He handed over a stack of fresh spirit maps, and listed the names, households, and paths of each.

Teila was confirmed as a Young Ranger, and because of all the light she’d saved since becoming an apprentice, plus some saved on her behalf by her family, she’d pushed up to Level 3, which did wonders for her qi and mana capacities.

Ali was a Level 1 Heartful Tanner, while Billi was a Level 1 Apprentice Workshop Head. Both were supposed to be excellent artisans paths. For real—it wasn’t just me being proud of them—Sheedi had said so herself.

Heartful Tanner focused on bringing out the best qualities in materials, and at higher levels, they could imbue traits from the source creature into the final product. Workshop Head was a less common path and was likely a hybridization of Billi’s early training and her recent experiences. It focused on leading by example, lifting up the people under her to improve their skills. She wouldn’t get many bonuses to her own skills, but should be able to leverage others to increase overall output.

With Bihei as a Weaver and me to supply materials, we were starting to look like a nice little enterprise, in addition to be being a family. Hmm... what we needed next were hired hands for the fields.

Thoughts of founding a commercial empire were interrupted when it came time for the messenger to report on the state of Albei and the surrounding towns and villages. There wasn’t much surprising, except for one thing: Albei’s experience of the Long Dark was much more chaotic this year in comparison to previous ones.

Their walls kept out most attackers, but flyers and tunnelers had historically been a problem until Knight Ithia killed a giant kalesk one year and turned its skull into a power lodestone—drawing the attention of Long Dark-influenced creatures to her fortress instead of the rest of the city.

Well, it seemed that the throne had been... sabotaged. Whoever it’d been had also found a way to poison some of the darklight collected from the fallen attackers, and Knight Ithia wanted all the surrounding villages and towns to be alert to nathlein, especially those expressing unusual interest in Albei. We were also instructed test any darklight before consuming it, and any exported to Albei would be subjected to thorough inspection.

It was all I could do not to squirm in my seat. Not mentioning the Deer God’s reappearance to anyone had been the right call. Thankfully, a ready scapegoat was available, although whoever had poisoned Ithia must be wondering at this turn of events. They... they might even start looking for the responsible party.

What an awful thought.

Only Mumu and Ikfael knew about the Deer God, and I’d not mentioned anything to either about what had happened in the throne room. I should be okay, but it wouldn’t hurt to take Ithia’s instructions to heart. I should be careful of curious strangers moving forward.

###

That evening, Teila came to our longhouse for an extended visit. She’d weather the snow storms with us, and while doing so, help jumpstart the children’s access to qi. Just the kids, though—Bihei would have to wait until we came up with a reasonable explanation for it. The kids were young enough and new enough to their Paths that it’d be feasible for them.

Yuki’s efforts in Albei had refined the method, and Billi was ready—she had a talent for qi; it just needed unlocking. Still, it took a couple of days for her to reliably maniuplate her qi, and a couple more to refine her belly dantian. Then, she’d take the slow road, letting the structures Yuki set up inside her meridians to finish the process over time.

Ali’s turn came next, and seven long, sweaty days followed, but the boy did it. He had such a happy, weary smile on his face at the end.

Yuki and I started the kids on Camouflage right away, figuring that was the best starter defensive spell for them. Also, I technically hadn’t learned the spell from the lodge, which was a loophole I’d use if anyone raised questions about how they’d gotten access to it.

The kids’ maximum capacity for qi was only good for a couple of spells, so we had lots of time to fill. While the wind howled outside and the light dimmed because the snow level rose above the windows, we worked at our small chores and sang many songs.

Our longhouse was in good repair and well supplied. It was like being inside a cocoon, our own little world, and the tension running through me slowly began to ease.

###

The tops of longhouses dotted an ocean of white. I wasn’t the only one braving the frigid morning either—other villagers popped up out of their homes like groundhogs to survey the storms’ aftermath.

Gray smoke streamed into the air from the longhouse hearths, and both Voorhei’s pyramid and its walls looked weird with their bases buried in snow—famaliar sights in an otherwise surreal landscape.

I spotted Koda and some assistants trekking from house to house to make sure the families inside didn’t need for anything. They left a trail of snow-shoe prints behind them, the connections between people temporarily visible to the mundane eye.

Koda waved, and I waved back.

On the ladder below me, Billi asked who it was, and then demanded to see for herself. That led to the whole family and Teila coming up to enjoy the fresh air. They brought hot tea and snacks with them, so that we could enjoy a short picnic before Teila headed home and I left for the Glen. As we sat, chitchatting about nothing at all, Koda made his way over to us.

He clapped twice, and said. “This is Koda come to check on your family and distribute shares of the Long Dark’s light.”

Bihei invited him and his assistants up to where we sat and offered them tea, which he declined. Instead, he passed out small pouches to my family, giving me a larger one that it’d been tagged with my name.

“A share each for Eight’s family, and ten shares for Eight himself—one for defending the walls, one for the west gate, four for each time sallying, two for entering the woods, and two for fighting against powerful strays.” Koda looked pained, as he continued. “Knowing you, we set aside only the silverlight.”

The pouch’s contents looked like gravel, the shiny remains of many diferrent creatures.

75 silverlight gathered, 38 absorbed.

Even before Yuki took their share, it wasn’t a lot given the incredible trial the Long Represented, but that was the reality when splitting shares among all the able-bodied folk in the village. My family offered me their pouches, but I flatly refused. They’d need every advantage they could get. My kids were now officially magic users, and we’d arrange for Bihei’s access as soon as we could.

Koda eyed my pack, armor, and weapons nearby. “You’ll be heading out to Honored Ikfael, then?”

“Shortly,” I replied. “I have responsibilities there too.”

Koda nodded, and handed me a velvet pouch, tied with silver wire. His voice caught as he said, “Thank her for us. We did so much better this year because of her blessings.”

“We all did,” I said.

###

All the usual landmarks were wiped away by the snow. Everything was still and quiet, except for the wind and the soft crunch of my snow shoes, my breath as it steamed. Thankfully, I had the river to follow and the escarpment in the distance to orient by.

I passed between sleeping trees, the rage from the Long Dark making for restless dreams, and as I got farther away from Voorhei and up into the hills west of the village, I started to see wildlife—a lynx hunting snowshoe hares, a moose sitting idly and uncaring of the snow around him. All of the animals’ talents were ordinary, however, and none were stray.

The journeying was slow, and I took care as I traveled, both in walking over the snow and in staying out of sight. My heart raced every time I spotted a creature, and I couldn't calm until I confirmed its relative harmlessness.

At one point, I heard an eagle in the distance, and my bow was in my hands before I could even think. With an effort of will, I dismissed the memory of Old Wahashtei cut in half, the image of him and the child carried away, the bitterness of being too slow and missing my shot.

Yuki surrounded my heart with their love, and I intellectually knew that I’d done my best, but it galled—it galled so much—that maybe if I’d been a little bit better...

But regrets will eat you alive if you let them, emptying you until there’s nothing left but the mistakes of the past. Knowing that and living it were two different things, however, and I had to keep on practicing the living part.

###

As I passed into Ikfael’s territory, the winter wind lost its bite, and I felt an ease that’d been missing since... well, the night Borba murdered Peng and his team. This was my first time back since then.

The Glen’s waterfall was frozen, a cascading curtain of ice glimmering in the afternoon sun, but the pool, however, looked like it always did. No doubt, it was some kind of magical hijinks on the part of the resident spirit of the land keeping the water from freezing over.

Sun-on-Snow bounded from the cave and knocked me on my butt with her enormous paws. She nuzzled my face and chest, and her kittens, Felix and Oscar, weren’t far behind. They crawled over my legs and arms to get to me. Both had gotten bigger since I’d last seen them.

Yuki passed along the blynx’s happiness at my return. There were, apparently, the remains of a hare in the cave if I was feeling hungry after my journey, but I had my own supplies and passed on the offer. In fact, there were carefully-wrapped donuts in my pack, yet there was no sign of their intended recipient.

Once I got my gear stowed, I tussled with the blynxes for a bit. Snow was impossible to pin down, as you might expect, but the kittens hadn’t learned how teleport yet and were easier game.

Afterward, I went for a wander and saw that the builders had left the shrine’s construction site in good order. They’d resume in the spring, but it looked like they didn’t have that much more to do—maybe a month for the last of the interior spaces and finishings? The quality of their work was excellent too. I didn’t see any indications of them skimping on materials or shortcutting the build.

Back at the pool, I started a fire, and sat staring into the flames until the sun set. Snow and her kittens gathered around too, and I was glad to have their company. My thoughts were darker than they’d been in a long time, and even with Yuki whispering in my ear, I couldn’t help dwelling on... well, everything.

This world in which I’d found myself pushed and demanded you strive past your limits toward... toward something I didn’t even think was possible: perfection. And heaven forbid you shirk your responsiblities and ignore the path. There was the Long Dark to keep you struggling, to rip away your life and your loved ones if you weren’t ready for it, if you didn’t keep growing in power.

Obviously, there were people who didn’t didn’t absorb light. They settled into their lives and trusted their leaders and defenders to protect them, but that wasn’t something I could accept. My life was my own, and my responsibility to my family and friends was mine too. I owned it, and always had. That was one of the reasons why I’d been as successful as I’d been in my previous life: the sheer determination to do better on behalf of myself and my loved ones. Which hadn’t changed, not really.

Diaksha was Diaksha. What was different was that I had a better understanding of what that meant.

In the cold, quiet night, lit by firelight, I sobbed. Tears came as I let out the anguish of the past few weeks. Yuki cried with me. They were more used to death, but they too felt the keen edge of loss. Borba had been a friend once. Wahashtei had been a cranky-ass neighbor, but he’d died trying to save a child. Kesa had been wary and wise, and she’d died protecting the village’s future.

I’d been putting this moment off, but it’d wouldn’t be delayed anymore. The feelings—

An awkward paw snuck around my arm to hug it tight. Ikfael sat beside me, looking at me with concern. I laughed, embarresed for some reason, and wiped away the tears and snot.

“I’m okay. The last few weeks have just been a lot, you know?”

Ikfael nodded, but the concern in her eyes didn’t disappear. It was weird—she was usually more snarky and distant. I could only imagine our adventures in Albei had brought us closer together. That was a comforting thought.

“Where’ve you been anyway?”

Ikfael let go of my arm to answer. “Leiluminwei and the silver wolves have chosen to make the river upstream and downstream their territory. I was helping them get settled.”

“Huh. What did you get out of the exchange?”

“Protection. Leiluminwei’s territory surrounds mine, so he has to deal with invaders first. If he and his wolves can’t, though, they fall back to the Glen and we coordinate to kill them.”

“Yuki told me about you all had worked together during the Long Dark.”

Ikfael sighed. “Normally, I hide, but Leiluminwei made an offer I couldn’t resist.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. I tried wriggling my brows but that didn’t get her to open up either. Then I stared deeply into her eyes, to which she just stared right back. That was when I noticed that her spirit seemed better. Still dimmer than I would’ve liked but steadier somehow, like a leak had been plugged.

I realized then that I felt steadier too, relieved. Ikfael was the last family member left to account for, and I’d now seen all of them alive and well with my own eyes.

A breath left me. The tension I’d been carrying too.

Ikfael patted me on the arm. “I know. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Unfortunately yes,” she said with another sigh.

###

After a dinner of grilled badger heart and donuts for dessert, we sat by the fire. Everything was so quiet, not even the wind disturbed us. I shifted to add wood to the flames, but kept the motions small so as to not disturb Ikfael. She slept against my side, woob woob woobing and twitching as she dreamt.

There’s so much love here, Yuki said.

I nodded and gently placed an arm around Ikfael. She snuggled in tighter.

The love is worth protecting, Yuki added.

How far will we go, though? Ghitha and Inleio thought they were protecting what they loved, and look at what they did.

We’ll just have to watch out for each other, and there’s Ikfael and Mumu to help us make decisions. We’re not always going to know what’s right.

And that was a truth if I’d ever heard one. The more time I spent in this world, the more I recognized the uncomfortable grays between right and wrong.

I couldn’t help thinking about how useful Borba would’ve been during the Long Dark. Not that I condoned Inleio’s decision, but it’d become easier to understand.

So we keep doing what we’re doing, I thought. We pursue the middle road, and focus on getting stronger but not at all costs. We fight on behalf of our family and friends, but don’t turn into the monsters threatening them.

This world demanded a lot. The Path to Perfection wasn’t accomplished in one step. The important thing was to keep moving, to rest occassionally, but to also resume—for your own good, and the people around you too.

Life here was hard. It tested you and offered you sorrows and joys in sometimes unequal measures. But no matter what, you couldn’t stop. You had to actively resist the urge to run and hide from the difficult things.

The key to a good life then was to face it head on—to meet the challenges, undaunted.

I merged with Yuki to peek in on my family in Voorhei, but they were all sensibly asleep. I should probably get some rest too, but the sky was a beautiful ocean of deep velvet black sprinkled with glittering gems. And I didn’t want to disturb Ikfael’s dreams. She smacked her lips as if she were eating something tasty.

Things would turn out, I thought. Yuki was right; we weren’t alone. And we worked damn hard to keep improving, as did my family—all of my families.

The world was tough, but I’d be okay. After all, I was home.