If the world wants to literally burn, I’ll just keep serializing something fun, for fun. This continues to be very unedited and the full story is here.
A bright beam of early dawn streamed through the back curtain of the cave. All but one oil lamp was already packed away and the fire was out, when Alfred noticed the girl move again. She had fallen asleep, bundled under his blankets, as he kept watch on his chimney. He poured his salt into a pale blue woven sack. “Good morning,” said Alfred. He placed the blue sack inside his backpack and closed the flap.
Zenia sat up. In the better light, he pretended not to notice as she stared at the closed top flap of his backpack. It had been repaired by a roughly sewn black patch, an entirely different material from the deep blue denim of the rest, including both shoulder straps. The table was now empty, except for Zenia’s pan. She stood and looked at Alfred, saying nothing.
The ruse is over, before I can even share it, he thought. At least, I have a good distraction. Alfred nodded at her pan and said, “Here. As I suspected, the properties are the same.”
The girl wrinkled her brow, just like Ma used to. She asked, “You expect this blue pan to work like your gift?”
Alfred smiled. “Yes! A quick lesson before we go.” Zenia sighed and sat back down. Alfred said, “No, this is a closer demonstration. Come.” He turned and walked over to the cool fire ring, selecting a single slender log from the wall stack along the way. Zenia joined him on the opposite side of the fire ring.
“First today, always keep a fire source handy, until you know you are done for the day,” said Alfred, lighting a thin stick on the oil lamp on the edge of the table. “Our travels today will not be very long. Before that, breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” said Zenia, looking at the empty table again, absentmindedly fidgeting with the Gift around her neck.
“I have eaten this morning. Watch,” said Alfred. He lit the single log and placed his pan on the cooking grate. The flame barely caught on the fringes of the seasoned wood.
Zenia said, “I don’t think that will help you cook anything.”
Alfred moved his pan to the table and placed Zenia’s on the grate. A small fire caught immediately. Alfred said, “The pan will teach you to build the fire that it prefers, in time.”
“Right,” said Zenia.
Alfred said, “You have to feed the coals to keep going, of course, but the fire will also control itself at times. Grow or wane, as needed.” He lifted his empty pan from the table.
“None of that makes much sense to me,” said Zenia.
Alfred thought, All this time, and no one else can control fire on this island? “It will,” he said. “Next, you should learn to do this.”
Alfred demonstrated how he would flip his pan. He said, “Use your wrist, but the action is more like casting a fishing line in reverse.” His pan remained empty. “Like I said, I already ate, but this will work as long as you are in the middle of cooking, even without a fire.”
“Wait, wait,” said Zenia. “Now you expect me to be able to use my pan like you did?” She pointed at her empty frying pan. “This is equal to the item you received from the Giver of Gifts?”
If that is true, perhaps I live long enough to find out what is going on, Alfred thought. “Absolutely.”
Zenia circled the fire to approach her pan’s braided handle, resting over the side of the fire ring. Swirls of blue flame danced on the charred wood below. She tried the wrist motion a few times while holding nothing. Alfred nodded. Zenia grasped her pan and flipped.
Fried mushrooms fell out of the shadows.
“If you intend to eat it, the pan will cook it.” Alfred picked out a mushroom cap with his fingers and grinned as he chewed. It is as the Giver said, but — one still so young demonstrating control of a second gift so quickly? Does this mean I am not the same? He shook his head to clear away such thoughts. Alfred swallowed, and said, “There is always some smoke in the air. Even now, we could both store at least three recipes and be cooking a fourth.” He frowned. “At least, that is my limit.”
“But, how –”
Alfred shook his head. “I know that smoke is involved. The rest of your questions of how or why are best left for the Giver.”
Zenia looked briefly confused. “You must know that is a dangerous idea.”
“What I mean is I don’t know how any of this works. Not really. Only what does and what doesn’t.” For me, he thought.
“Okay, Then, the separate dishes would all cook perfectly and stay warm until we retrieve them,” she said, her attention already elsewhere. Looking at the back wall, Zenia asked, “How long has the sun been overhead?” She tried a mushroom, and quickly ate the rest.
Alfred said, “Long enough. I am concerned. Normally, on the Eve of Eostre, I am attacked by larger numbers.”
“The Ova only come on that night in our village,” said Zenia. “This remains true even out here in the hills?”
Alfred said, “I think that is true throughout this island. Every moon’s trial is different.” He removed the cooking grate. “Nevermind that. I have one more lesson for this morning.”
“Fine.”
“The best way to truly clean your pan is to place it in the fire itself. That nice blue finish will hold well, and will wipe out spotless.”
“You are joking.”
Alfred shrugged. “Is it not obvious that I have fully tested your new pan already? Now, it is your turn.” He pointed. “Into the fire.”
Zenia did as commanded and laid her pan on the coals that bloomed at the base of the fire pit, expecting the leather to catch immediately. Instead, the blue swirls danced around the inside of the pan, and silently winked out.
Alfred said, “Done. It will be safe for you to reach into the coals for this pan, child, but no one else. I used a glove.”
She gingerly reached in, and pulled the pan out. The blue finish was immaculate and did not need further cleaning. Zenia said, “It’s already cold.”
He shouldered his backpack and thought, Here we go. “There will be some light in the tunnel. No need for the rope again, but follow me closely. The safest way out will not be obvious, and some of my traps may still be active.”
“Wait, your gift’s handle is not the same as mine. Why is it bare metal?”
“I’ll explain that later. Let’s get you home.”
“Okay.” Zenia tied her knife back to her hip. After a moment of silence, she tied her pan to her other side. Alfred stooped down and crawled through the chimney opening. The way ahead looked straight on to a patch of light shining through the rocks ahead. Alfred stopped, and could see the shadows move as Zenia tried to peer over his shoulder. He said, “Cover your ears.”
A trap door in the open main tunnel slammed down, exposing thin wooden spikes. Alfred led Zenia around a side passage. He disabled two more traps and scrambled out of the cave entrance. “I am not surprised,” Alfred muttered. He reached in and helped Zenia climb out.
Twelve Ova lay dead in the underbrush outside of Alfred’s cave. Most were little more than broken piles of shells, but a few were cleaved in two. Zenia said quietly, “Someone did come looking for me.”
Alfred examined the perimeter more closely. “A friend of yours did this?”
Zenia blushed. “We are birthmates, nothing more.”
Right. He placed his backpack on the ground. “They must care for you deeply. Please, what is their name?”
Zenia fidgeted with her silver chain. She said, “Felix.”
Alfred pulled his pan from his belt and gripped the handle backwards, as you would with a short knife in close combat. With a hint of surprise, he watched Zenia quickly do the same. Alfred said, “Felix! Show yourself! You left me a bit of a mess to clean up!”
Leaves rustled overhead. A boy dropped from a nearby tree. Dressed in layers of a loosely woven fabric, he was holding an single-bladed woodcutter’s ax with a gleaming, mirror-like finish. The leather grip was braided in colors that matched the drawstring of Zenia’s pouch. And, her pan’s handle.
Alfred said, “Hello, friend.” He nodded at the ax. “I see that the Giver knew which metal to give.” He turned to Zenia.
“Sorry, what?”
“Silver is generally impervious to the effects of any of the trials,” said Alfred. And, what is that blue finish made of, I wonder?
“I am taking her home,” said Felix.
“Funny, that is what I am doing,” said Alfred. He blinked. “What a gift you have there, young one.”
Despite his blond hair and light complexion, the boy scowled well. “If you have harmed –” he started.
“I sheltered your friend here all night, and we were also attacked. She fought well. Would you like to join us on the trail back home, then?”
Felix stepped forward a few paces. “Who are you?”
Alfred said, “That is a long story, and one that I would really like to tell only once today.”
Zenia giggled. She said, “The humble cook.” She lowered her pan. “Cousin, I am safe. He – We fought them the same as you, I see. Are you injured?”
Felix relaxed and dropped the head of his ax towards the ground. “No. I found them all transfixed by the smoke coming from this cave. They were singing? It was horrible. I gave them a good smoosh, but there was no fight in them.” Felix pounded the blunt end of his ax head into his palm. “Weird,” he added.
This one should be a quick study. Alfred asked, “Do you follow the princess often?” He pretended to rummage in his backpack and retrieved his bag of salt.
“No!” Felix looked away, towards home. “She – she was late and the sun was going down. I snuck out, in case she needed help. Yeah, I do know her favorite meadow. I started there.”
Zenia said, “I showed you that place three weeks ago.” She tied her pan back to her hip.
Alfred finished sprinkling salt across fallen Ova. “If you don’t mind, can we be on our way?” He kicked dirt over the seven wet spots where the egg things were raw and had been pounded into tiny shards. “Did either of you know that the wolves on this island are immune? They will eat these others for us.”
“Gross,” said Zenia.
“Where did you find this guy?” asked Felix.
Alfred sighed. “Along the river, yes? Please lead on.”
Zenia and Felix walked ahead, chatting normally, possibly considering him an elder already. Alfred followed, studying their dynamic. Felix was not a sanctioned bodyguard, and certainly not yet a lifemate. They were a bit young yet for that sort of arrangement to already be secured, if memory served him. No, this was the connection of two from the same village, born on the same day..
Felix stole glances over his shoulder from time to time, but remained relaxed with Zenia. They both smiled and laughed a few times as they swapped stories of how their night had gone. However, when Zenia was not quick to describe where or how she acquired her pan, Alfred thought, Maybe, I have gained an ally, after all.
The wild rocky terrain of the hills around them returned to a path that led to the river bank, and the path along the river that Alfred had been avoiding for so long, leading to the bay on the eastern side of the island. The river widened as they made progress on the journey. Bridges were replaced by the occasional isolated ferryman, waiting on short piers on one side or the other. Piers grew longer to support larger and larger boat landings.
In turn, forest turned to farmland, where many men and women were working in the fields. Zenia remarked that her favorites amongst the village vegetables were ready to harvest after wintertime. Other farm workers returned herds of goats to fenced-in fields, generally considered unsafe to all during a monthly trial such as Eostre. As they progressed, more and more families were contending with dead Ova on their lands.
Felix and Zenia stopped at the perimeter of a fence lined at various heights with wooden spikes, Fifty paces beyond, the large village wall extended two stories into the air. Ova lay dead all around them, shot through with arrows.
Just ahead a group of very young children sang a song as they moved a broken egg thing to a basket, grasping by the arrows with heavy leather gloves attached to leather smocks. Two young children removed their leathers and ran out to greet Zenia. “Cousin Zenia! We are so glad to see you again!” She stopped and embraced them, sharing new stories of last night. The children ran back after everyone else had passed within the perimeter, returning to their horrible chore for the day.
Zenia turned to Alfred. “We are not blood relations,” she said. “If someone in my village is not an immediate family member, we simply call them a cousin or aunt or uncle.”
Alfred said, “I know.” He watched his breath condense in the mid morning sun, and sat down where he stood.
Zenia asked, “What are you doing?”
Alfred closed his eyes. “Someone has seen us from the watchtower.” He shivered. “I – I think that is your mother, my new friend. Zenia, dear, please tell me what your mother’s gift might be.”
Zenia frowned, fidgeting with the drawstring of her pouch. “She received a very beautiful gift, a simple, but effective boon that helps the village, like mine.”
Alfred rubbed his hands together and blew into his fists. That is Nadine staring down up there, isn’t it? Is she controlling the air, or chilling my body directly somehow?
Felix stepped between Alfred and Zenia, and said, “Are you okay?”
“Are you c-c-cold, too, boy?” Alfred laid down on the ground and pulled his legs up to his chest. He looked directly at Zenia. “The Village, and you both, now c-control my fate.”
Felix looked up as the main gate opened, still a short distance away, and three men stormed out. Two bore the sword and bow of the village guard.
Zenia rested her hand on the handle of her pan. She said, “You speak as if you are a fugitive from justice, and yet you know the words to invoke a meeting with Pa. Who are you?”
The man without a bow answered Zenia. “Princess, this man is a criminal who escaped before his judgment could be rendered.”
Alfred felt his core temperature rising back to normal, but found no comfort there. The shadow of a grown woman with Zenia’s curls has been replaced in the watchtower by a man with an arrow already nocked in his bow. He sat up again. “Cousin Joe, so good to see you. I think you were only seven when we parted ways. What were you given?”
Felix said, “Uncle Joe, he was very interested in my Gift, too.”
“Was he?” Joe tugged at a red, green, and black braided bracelet. The rope split into one short segment.
Zenia said, “And, my Gift. But, he has already surrendered, Uncle.”
“Good.” Joe waved the short piece of rope at the man sitting on the ground. Alfred watched as ropes grew from nothing and tied his wrists together in his lap.
“Enough!” A bright flash of white light erupted from under the gate, temporarily moving everyone’s midmorning shadow. A man Alfred’s age strode forward. His long green robes, the same loose weave as Felix’s garments, swished in sync with his steps. He used a long walking cane casually, topped by a perfectly smooth sphere of white rock that floated just above the tip of the staff. He finished his approach by crossing both staff and arms against his chest. “Daughter, you fought well. You will have to explain this to Ma. And, to me.”
“Yes, Pa.”
That is her punishment? thought Alfred.
Pa turned to Felix. “You also were very brave. I will see you promoted to Logging Foreman, and also make you apprentice to a village swordmaster, if you like.”
Felix hefted the ax in his hand and looked at the watchtower. “I admire the bow.”
“That is a fine choice.”
“Thank you, Pa.”
Pa shook his head. “I was not finished. The path from nephew to uncle does not include sneaking out to take matters into your own hands. We could have lost two last night. What should you have done, instead?”
“Alerted the gate watch?” asked the boy, trying not to look at the globe on Pa’s staff, slowly spinning in the breeze.
Alfred chuckled. He said, “And, they would have gone in search of her, instead? That is your lesson?”
Pa frowned at Joe, and Alfred found himself gagged by new rope. Pa said, “You claim to understand our customs? We shall see how you finally face justice.”
Felix asked, “Pa, what did he do?”
“That is for his trial,” said Pa. He relaxed his stance as two men arrived and picked up Alfred by the arms.
Zenia burst into tears. “Pa, I plead mercy! He saved me last night. He gave me shelter, and food.”
Sparks flew from the globe at the end of his staff, but Pa otherwise kept his temper. He said, “Felix, see that she is safely home, and then go to your own. Now!”
“Yes, Pa.” Felix wrapped an arm around Zenia’s shoulders and led her into the village. He turned and glared at Alfred as they passed under the gate together.
Four men waited a brief moment longer together. “And, you,” said Pa. “You should never have come back here.”
Alfred yelled into the ropes around his mouth. Joe kicked him in the stomach, and he fell over, moaning.
“There is no need for that,” said Pa. “Take his things, and his Gift, and release his gag.”
Joe snatched Alfred’s backpack from the ground angrily, and untied the black frying pan still dangling from his waist. Joe turned it over in his hand. “This thing? How is this touched by the Giver?”
Alfred spat into the dirt. He glared at Pa and said, “Tell me, Lucien, are you like the last Pa?” He laughed. “Are you able to view all of history, but hear nothing that was said? What does that teach you? Do you learn anything?”
“Do not speak this way,” said Joe, curling his fists.
Pa said, “You will see what I have learned.”
Alfred said, “I hope you hear me, birthmate. We have important things to talk about. The fate of your village. This island. Your daughter.”
“And, tell me, what would your sister Mel have to say on this matter?” said Pa.
“She would hate that we are still fighting,” said Alfred.
Pa pushed Alfred’s chin up with his white sphere. “We will not know what she wants today, because you murdered her.” He turned away and followed Zenia back through the gate.
Alfred was dragged into the village eventually. Children outside the gate finished their chores, and brought stories to their parents.