Evenfall

The next morning when Isa awoke, Nao was chewing on a bone next to the long-dead fire. She grinned widely and ran up to him, falling to her knees and gathering him in a hug.

“By the light of the three moons,” she said, burying her face in his silver coat. “I’m so glad you’re back.” He didn’t respond, too preoccupied with the bone he had in his mouth. “Where in Archen’s name were you?” Isa cried, playfully slapping his shoulder. He whined and froze, rolling to the side so she could see the wound on his front leg. He began exaggeratedly licking it, as if to say, “look what I did for you, you aren’t allowed to be angry with me.”

Isa gasped as she saw the state of the wound. It was a short gash; quite obviously a knife wound, buried beneath layers of grime and dead leaves. Almost too much grime, for a night in the forest. She could see it had stopped bleeding, but Nao’s constant bothering was not helping. Gently, she moved his head away from his paw so she could see the gash better.

He relented, happily going back to chomping on his bone. “You’re so spoiled.” She chuckled, before carefully moving his leg out and away from his body, so that she’d have room to work.

“Stay still,” she said sternly, before getting up and running over to the caravan. She retrieved the same bowl she had used the night before – to treat Nikolas’s wound – a wet cloth, bucket of water and bandages. Once she had mashed the herbs together to create the same healing paste she had used on Nikolas, she went back to sit beside Nao. He was still chewing his bone, and – she was happy to see – hadn’t moved at all.

She made herself comfortable on his right side and went to work cleaning out the wound. At some point during her treatment of the wound, Nao became bored with his bone and instead watched attentively as she worked. He let out a small whine every now and again, pulling his ears back and forth when she hurt him, but he somehow understood she was trying to help and remained still. Only when she started to smear the paste on a small strip of bandage did he let out a long whine.

“You don’t even know what this is for,” Isa chuckled, wiping the paste that had gotten on her fingers onto the bandage. “how do you know to be scared?” He sneezed and looked away, shaking his head out. Isa just giggled and lifted his paw onto her lap.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” she said. Nao snorted, shaking his head in a very human-like manner. He really was too much like a pet, Isa thought. Without warning, she rapidly covered the wound with the bandage. Nao let out a small bark before yawning and whining.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled. “That’s the worst of it.”

She went to work bandaging the wound to hold the paste in place. He let out a low whine as she tightened the bandage, making her pause.

“Too tight?” She asked. Nao sneezed again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckled, loosening the bandage. “There. All done.”

“Isa, pack up. We’re leaving.” Maria stepped out from the shadows of the trees, startling Isa.

“Oh, Madre!” Isa said, holding a hand to her chest, feeling her heart thump beneath it. “You scared me. Good morning.”

“Quickly,” Maria persisted. “I want to be out of here before noon.”

Isa frowned, but got to her feet. “Any particular reason?” she asked, watching Nao sniff his bandage, then snort. She smiled. The herbs did have a very strong smell. She raised her eyebrow at her mother, watching her pull Monte’s harness from the inside of the caravan door.

“It seems many don’t appreciate my being here,” Maria said, unbuckling the harness. “The town’s people have asked us to leave.” She let out a sharp whistle, and soon Monte appeared from between the trees.

“Why would they be so rude?” Isa asked, gathering the pot from above the fire. “Was it something I did?” Her heart started beating faster at the thought of her mother finding out about her attack.

“No, darling. You didn’t do anything. Quite the opposite, actually.” Maria said, tightening the harness onto Monte, and then leading her to the front of the caravan. “It was something I did, a very long time ago. It seems they haven’t forgiven – or forgotten – for that matter.” When Maria didn’t elaborate, Isa frowned.

“Well,” She prodded, locking the last of their belongings inside the caravan before running over to help her mother attach Monte. “are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.” Her mother said, tone clipped. She finished with her side of the harness and came over to Isa’s. She shooed her out of the way and busied herself with Isa’s side of the harness. Isa allowed her to, and decided it was probably wiser to drop the subject. Maria finished quickly with the harness and then climbed up to sit on the seat of the caravan. Isa gathered the reins from where they hung and attached them to the harness before handing them to her mother and climbing up beside her.

Maria clicked her tongue, and then directed Monte out of the clearing and towards a road that fed through the forest. Isa turned around to see Nao run out of the clearing ahead of them, the pain in his injured leg seemingly nonexistent. Isa chuckled quietly as he ducked through the trees and out of sight. She then reached into the compartment below the seat and retrieved her book. Their journeys were often long and monotonous, and so Isa had learned long ago that it was best to have a book to read along the way.

“You’re almost finished with that one,” Maria noted, glancing at the book in Isa’s hands. Isa saw that there were, indeed, only a few pages left.

“That is true,” she said, frowning. “I hope it lasts the journey. Where are we going, anyway?”

“Kova,” Maria replied, urging Monte on faster. “So you’d better read slowly; we have a long ride ahead.”

Isa groaned, leaning her head back against the caravan. “Kova is a whole day’s ride from here!” She whined, glancing to see her mother smirking. “Why so far away?”

“Kova isn’t the final destination,” Maria said, smiling mischievously. “It’s just a stop along the way. We’ll stay there tonight and then carry on tomorrow.”

Isa groaned again, glancing around to see if she could spot Nao through the trees. “Then where is the final destination?” When her mother didn’t reply, Isa rolled her head to look at her. Maria had a mischievous glint in her eye, and a secretive smile on her face.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” She said in a sing-song voice. Isa sighed and crossed her arms. Maria clicked her tongue again and flicked the reins, urging Monte into a fast trot.

They rode for half the day. Finally, when the sun was at its highest peak and the heat was bordering on unbearable, Maria directed Monte to a stream that ran along the road for a few miles. Even before Maria had pulled the horse to a stop, Isa jumped from the seat and collapsed onto the lush grass on the stream’s bank.

“Sweet relief!” She cried, stretching out her aching muscles and hearing a few clicks. “We’ve been riding for hours.”

Maria chuckled as she dismounted the caravan and released Monte from it. The tired horse eagerly loped the rest of the way to the stream and then waded halfway into it before drinking the cool water. Isa sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, tuning in to the birdsong that flitted around her and the whispers of the trees. She was so relaxed that she was scared almost half to death when a long, warm and wet tongue brushed her cheek.

“AH!” She cried out, sitting bolt-upright. Her heart felt as if it was going to hammer a hole in her chest, and she was a little dizzy from sitting up so fast. Groaning, she closed her eyes to try and stop her vision from swimming. She heard a playful snort that bordered on what she supposed could be the canine version of a laugh. Opening her eyes slowly, she found Nao lying on his belly in front of her, tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted. She glared at him. He let out a playful bark, only making her narrow her eyes further.

“You-” she said, jabbing a finger into his face, so close that he almost went cross-eyed. “are Vanir incarnated.” Nao just snorted again and shook his head, the sunlight catching on his silver fur. Isa rolled her eyes. “You know what? No. You’re worse than the god of hatred. You put him to shame. Shame I tell you!”

Maria startled Isa with her laugh. Both Isa and Nao turned to find her leaning against the caravan, watching them. Isa smiled.

“I don’t know when last I heard you laugh,” Isa said quietly. Maria gave her a sad look, walking slowly over to where Isa sat, still on the grass. Carefully she lowered herself to sit beside her daughter, and then stroked Isa’s hair. Isa leaned into her mother, and Maria hugged her back.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Maria said. Isa frowned.

“For what?”

“For being such a tyrant sometimes.” Maria sighed and ran her hands through Isa’s charcoal locks. Isa didn’t reply. “I want to show you something.”

Isa sat up and watched as her mother stood and then loped over to the stream, to where Monte was still wading. Maria turned back and waved Isa over. Isa watched curiously as her mother stood by the side of the stream and held her hands out beside her, palms facing upwards.

Once Isa was close enough, she found her mother was muttering something with her eyes closed. The closer she got, the more she could make out. Soon she realized that her mother was singing. The words were in a language she didn’t understand, but somehow knew. Like a distant memory, the kind that lingers on the border of your conscience and flits away when you try to grasp it. She recognized this song.

It was the song in which the trees danced; the song the birds sang; the song the animals were born to trust; the song the wind blew; the song the rivers and streams flowed to; the song that pulsed within each and every living creature. It was the song, she realized, of life.

Pure, undistorted life. The trails of a thought, the glow of happiness, the darkness of despair and everything in-between were somehow woven into this one song – into these words that her mother was now whispering with a delicate tongue.

Isa watched, mesmerized, as a wind began to whip around her mother’s feet, clutching and scattering the leaves and twigs around her. They blew out and onto the stream, and then they began to dance across its surface to the song of the forest.

Isa realized now that she had always been able to hear this song, she had just never recognized it. Her mother was getting louder, and the leaves and twigs were dancing faster and more intricately. Isa frowned as she heard a difference, a note in the song that shouldn’t have been there. It was a note of darkness, a note of malevolence.

She was confused when she realized that this was her mother’s note, the note that her mother was born to. Isa grew sad when she heard that note; it was not supposed to be so deeply ingrained into her mother’s spirit. Her mother’s spirit had somehow been torn, allowing the dark note to seep into and to poison it. She wondered what could have happened, what had hurt her mother so badly that her spirit tore.

Her mother let the song fade, slowly, from her lips. She opened her eyes and gazed at her daughter sadly.

“What was that?” Isa whispered, still mesmerized by the beautiful song she could still here the forest echo.

“That was the song of life, as I’m sure you realized.” Maria said quietly.

“How can you sing it?” Isa questioned. She heard it flowing through the trees, under the ground and up through her feet – a constant pulse that could never be quashed.

“That is the Talent of my people,” Maria said sadly. “Of our people.”

“Our people?” Isa questioned. She had always thought they were nothing more than humans, and that her mother was one of the few to have fallen across a spell book from the Old Days, where witches and mages still lived.

“The Anala,” Maria said. Isa shivered as she heard the song grow louder around her mother’s words, almost as if the forest were embracing it.

“Anala?” Isa questioned. “What are they?”

“We are a race of Mages,” Maria said. “A lesser known race, the knowledge of us lost throughout the ages. Nobody really remembers us anymore. But the forest does.”

The song pulsed again, and Isa felt a warm glow in her chest. Maria smiled as Isa gasped.

“Mages?” Isa whispered, eyes wide. “I thought they’d all died.”

“The better known races, yes. But not us. I suppose it’s a blessing that others have forgotten us, or else Rhazien would have killed us off long ago.” Maria’s tone was dark with regret. “I haven’t met another Anala in years. I fear we may be the last two alive.”

“That’s why we are always travelling, then?” Isa asked. “You’re looking for another Anala?”

Maria nodded sadly, and then lifted her head to the sky.

“We should get going,” she said, walking back to the caravan. “if we want to get to Kova before nightfall.”

Isa nodded and trailed after her mother. Soon, they were on the road again.