Chapter 2

Year 153– Summer – Tertius Mensis – 46th day

Tree-Fall Village, Velika Forest, northern Vale

A summer day was coming to its end in a maelstrom of reddish shades of purple. Near a river shore, in front of their own reflection, two men were talking.

Man 1 –“Since they have left this world, I see you wither away, day after day. You worry me, Harald.”

Harald –“How wouldn’t I? They didn’t ask for it. They didn’t deserve it.”

Man 1 –“Loneliness is like a disease that eats you from within. I know it won’t replace them, but you should find someone to help you at the forge.”

Harald –“It’s easy for you to say, Ivan. Your son’s alive, and your wife just lost a leg.”

Ivan remained silent while passing his hand through his beard.

Harald –“I’m sorry . . . I shouldn’t have said that. I know how essential legs are for a farmer. It’s just that I’m too old to have a child or even to marry anyone. Those savages took my purpose, and all I’m left with is the empty shell of what my life used to be.”

Ivan –“No, you’re correct . . . I still have my family.”

Ivan grabbed his friend’s shoulder.

Ivan –“I think you should buy a kid at the slave market.”

Harald looked at his friend, an exasperated sigh anchored in his eyes.

Harald –“Buy a kid? A slave from the East? From the same savages who took away all I had?”

Ivan –“And what about the kids who lost their parents due to the same war? Even savages, kids are still kids. Besides, you can’t go on like this. I don’t want to see you leave this world. You’re like a brother to me!”

Harald –“Raising the child of those who took mine . . .”

Ivan –“No, two broken souls, coping together with a pain too heavy to be carried alone.”

The last glimmer of sunset disappeared on the horizon as the blacksmith stared at the water in silence.

Ivan –“It’s getting late . . . Rest well, my friend, and remember, you are and always will be welcomed in my family. If I could take even a hundredth of your burden to ease it, I would, but I can’t unless you take the hand I’m offering.”

Ivan left in the silence of dusk. Harald stayed, wondering, gazing at the calm water. The swirling wind felt like a trance in his ears.

Harald –“Two broken souls . . . Ehh, that’s stupid. Those kids wouldn’t even understand our tongue . . . Were I to drown, would I be allowed to join them?”

His tears were rippling in the water, yet he remained silent until his exhausted body got the upper hand.

Early in the morning, Harald slowly opened his eyes when he witnessed something so improbable he wasn’t sure if it was a dream. In front of him was a fox running away from an owl, desperate not to become a meal, when a lynx came out of the tall grass hunting the same prey as the owl.

Seeing its opponent, the owl kept its dive toward the fox to get it first, but instead of hunting down its prey, the wild cat leapt on the owl to defend the fox. Losing feathers from the sharp bite, the owl retreated to the nearest tree. The lynx had let his meal go to fight a common enemy. At that moment, Harald got up on his feet and drew his sword, but the beasts were gone.

Was it a dream? Elvyra, was it a sign from you?

Ivan’s words resonated in his mind.

Two broken souls . . . I’ll try for you, Elvyra . . .

Harald took his purse and a bag of food without saying a word. At sunrise, he was on his way for Avem, town of the Vale. Five days of walking later, he arrived. The large valley was surrounded by a chain of small hills too low to be called mountains, yet high enough to be a slow inclined descent toward the town. Its glorious banners were hanging off the walls as they were being rebuilt.

The old wall had taken some damage, and the town was getting too crowded. A new wall was being built north of the river to extend the town’s territory. Forty workers were digging the foundations for the wooden walls to be set up. Guards surrounded the walls, and the air wasn’t gloomy. There was a peaceful feeling coming from the town’s breath.

As Harald went through the northern drawbridge, the guards were so busy that none noticed him. People huddled in every square inch of the town. Harald was seeking the slave market when a kid ran by him and snatched his purse. Harald turned around and chased the kid, pushing two folks aside.

Man –“HEY! MIND YOUR MANNERS!”

The kid swiftly passed under a stand and ran toward a side alley. Harald could barely keep him in sight. As he turned into the alley, the kid got roughly pushed back onto the street and stumbled to the ground. Out of the alley came a guard who stepped on the kid’s leg.

The kid –“LET ME GO!”

The guard –“Ain’t happening! I told you yesterday I’d throw you in jail if you stole again.”

The kid –“I DIDN’T STEAL!”

The guard –“Why were you running like that?”

The kid –“Cause I can’t run now? Since when is that a rule?”

The guard applied more pressure on the leg while looking around. The kid whined from the pain.

The guard –“Hey you! The old man!”

Harald approached them while recovering his breath.

Harald –“That kid . . . stole my purse . . .”

The guard then looked back at the frightened kid.

The guard –“Don’t make me take it by force.”

The kid then threw the purse on the ground. The guard crouched down, took a rope off his back, and secured it to the kid’s legs before releasing his foot.

The guard –“Sorry for the inconvenience. I’m Ethen. The war made a lot of orphans, so we are trying to keep the situation under control. If you get harassed by them, just ask for me. I’m used to dealing with undisciplined orphans. Can I help you in any other way?”

Harald –“Actually, I’m looking for the slave market.”

Ethen –“It’s at the back of the temple near the eastern wall. The trader is called Castel.”

Harald took his purse from the ground and counted his coins. Hundreds of footsteps were covering the ground like a mosaic.

Ethen –“Is it all there?”

Harald –“It is. Is it always this crowded?”

Ethen –“Well, since we won the war with the East, the trade routes have reopened for the first time in seven years. So, I think it will stay like this until the truce breaks again. It’s supposed to be 20 winters, but who knows if it will last that long . . .”

Harald –“Right . . . It’s been seven years already . . .”

Ethen –“Is there a problem?”

Harald –“None . . . I was just lost in thoughts. Thank you for your help!”

Ethen –“I’m just doing my duty, unlike some bear . . .”

Harald –“A bear?”

Ethen –“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it!”

Harald –“I’ll be going then.”

As Harald walked through the town, holding his purse in his hand, he listened to the surrounding people. They were talking about the Kalator in the North whose land had been ravaged during the war. Apparently, they had to buy food from around the Union.

Man 1 –“I’m telling you! If you want to sell your food for a high price, go there! They will give you the best deal!”

Man 2 –“But I’d have to bring that food up north for weeks, and I don’t even have horses to carry it!”

Man 1 –“Listen, I’ll find the wagon and the horses, and if you are willing to give me a third of your profit, I’ll carry them for you.”

Man 2 –“A third? That’s way too much!”

Man 1 –“But you’d still get more than what you’ll make here!”

Harald kept walking toward the temple and reached the slave market. There was a big wooden stand with many slaves who looked deceptively good. All of them seemed around 20 years of age based on their facial features, but some of them were obviously older or younger.

Castel –“COME HERE! COME HERE! SLAVES OF THE BEST QUALITY COMING RIGHT FROM THE EAST. THEY ARE DOCILE AND HARDWORKING. THIS IS A GOLDEN OFFER! YOU, SIR!”

Harald –“Me?”

Castel –“YES, YOU WITH THE BROWN HAIR! DO YOU WANT A SLAVE FOR YOUR WORK OR MAYBE A WOMAN?”

Harald –“Actually, I’m searching for a kid!”

Castel –“Oh, sure. If that’s your taste! PERNILE! GET HER MAKEUP OFF.”

Pernile –“Right away.”

The face of the smallest girl, who wasn’t even four feet tall, was slowly revealed as her makeup was washed away. Her hair was as black as the darkest night. Her slanted eyes were shaped like half-moons, yet the look in her eyes reflected how dead she felt inside. It seemed like a miracle that she hadn’t taken her own life already. Her skin was tan with a touch of yellow. She was the only one among all the nude slaves to be wearing long gloves. She had a tattoo of a black moon right above her heart.

Harald –“How old is she?”

Castel –“How old do you like them?”

Harald –“I’m not into that kind of thing. I’m just here to buy a kid. How much for her?”

Castel –“Let’s say 200 Utos.”

Harald –“That’s the price of an adult; she’s still a kid. I’ll give you 100 Utos.”

Castel –“She might be a child, but she is a good-looking girl. I can’t go that low.”

Harald –“Why is she wearing gloves? Does she have a disease?”

Castel took the girl’s gloves off. Her right arm was littered with burns stretching from her fingertips up to her elbow.

Harald –“So, she’s a kid with a burned arm who doesn’t speak my tongue. I’ll give you 125 Utos, and that’s a generous offer.”

Castel –“I’ll go down to 150 but not less.”

Harald –“Fine, do you take copper coins?”

Castel –“Gold, silver, copper! Anything that doesn’t rust! I’ll take it as long as it has the Union stamp!”

The trader then used his abacus to count the coins.

Castel –“6 silver coins and 78 copper coins. The count is good; she’s yours!”

Harald took the girl with him, put his mantle on her, and walked toward the inn to buy her a decent meal. While eating, the girl was confused and exhausted. Harald pointed at himself.

Harald –“Harald.”

He then pointed at her and waited, but the girl didn’t answer.

Harald –“Alright. From now on, you’ll be . . . Vatra . . . You’ll be Vatra.”

She followed him for the rest of the day in silence. During the five-day hike back to his village, Harald had tried to make her talk without success. He had named everything he pointed at in the hope she would eventually speak.

At least she seems to understand her new name . . . Was it really what you wished for, Elvyra?

Every night, the girl was moving and sweating a lot, tormented by nightmares. Once they arrived at Harald’s home in the Tree-Fall Village, Ivan saw them and came right away.

Ivan –“HARALD! Why didn’t you tell me a word? I thought you left us for good. We searched for you for two days and couldn’t find you. We saw you took your spare food, so we thought you left forever. How many times will I have to tell you that I care for you like a brother? We’ve been living in this village for the last 38 years, together in good and bad times!”

Harald –“I’m sorry . . . I should’ve told you. I wasn’t sure about it either, and I didn’t want to lie.”

Ivan –“I see you have followed my advice!”

Harald –“That night, I had a dream . . . I think Elvyra might have listened to you and agreed. But I don’t know if it’s the right call. She hasn’t spoken a word, she’s having nightmares, and her arm is burned, so she might get scared of the forge and–”

Ivan –“This was a good idea! You probably didn’t notice it yourself, but you look happier than the last time I saw you. You have hope in your eyes, and it’s a good thing. Welcome back, Harald.”

Harald –“We’ll see . . .”

When Vatra saw the forge for the first time, she placed her burned hand in front of her with her fingers spread out. The fire was dancing as if it were a prolongation of her scars. The girl remained like that for a while. She closed her eyes as the warmth of the fire brought back the memories of the tragedy she was trying to forget. Enslaved, tortured, and dragged across the land. From a land she didn’t know to another whose tongue kept changing only to land here, in this remote village of daemons.

The sound of Harald stubbing his foot on a chair startled her. Her eyes flashed open, coming back into this new reality where her whole life had been stolen by savages. The girl stepped outside and saw the old man smile at her as he entered the forge. Further up the street, the other kids of the village were running around, laughing. A young man passed by while dragging tree trunks with his mule. He examined Vatra, perplexed, and approached her.

The young man –“Who are you? I’ve never seen you around!”

What is he saying?

The young man –“You’re not really talkative, are you?”

The man got closer and crouched two steps away from her. She watched him with terror in her eyes. Noticing her reaction, the man slowly backed up.

The young man –“Don’t be afraid. I won’t harm you. I’m Albert, the mayor’s son! I live in the large house over there. Are you a traveller?”

She stared at him in silence so he pointed at her and repeated.

Albert – ‘’You’re a traveller?’’

The girl answered by shaking her head side to side and replied for the first time.

Vatra –“Wǒ bù jiào Traveller. Wǒ jiào Vatra.”

Albert –“What? Eh . . . Sorry, I don’t quite understand.”

What is he saying? What do I do?

Noting her discomfort, Albert excused himself and left to finish his own work. Vatra was incredibly confused by her first dialogue with the man-eating tribes.

During the following month, Harald kept trying to teach the girl about his tongue until she finally understood a few words. She couldn’t understand everything, but even on the other side of the world, the people could still smile, laugh, cook, and eat together. The warmth of this village was like a balm for the girl after the horrors she suffered. She gradually began speaking with the other kids, but the trauma of the war had left scars in her heart. A year later, during her seventh summer, she still couldn’t forget.

Vatra –“I feel like I’m completely useless. The other kids are helping at the farm or at the bakery or anywhere their family works.”

Harald –“Vatra, you’re only 7 years old. Kids like you play. The only kids who are really working are close to 10 years old.”

Vatra –“No, you’re wrong . . . Most of the kids like me are dead because they didn’t know how to solve their own problems. How am I supposed to play when every night I see their faces? I hear their screams and . . . and–”

Harald –“It’s fine! There’s no need to say more.”

Harald hugged the girl and whispered in her ears.

Harald –“If you want to help, how about assisting me at the forge? I know you are afraid of fire, but don’t worry about it, everyone is.”

Harald backed off and gently wiped her tears away.

Vatra –“Everyone? So, you’re afraid of fire, too?”

Harald –“I am. You see, fear is a strong ally. It helps you stay focused and alert when you are in contact with danger, but if you don’t want to be swallowed by it, you need to learn how to control its sources. Vatra, I know that fire can be devastating and dangerous, but it can also bring life. It’s alive and wild. It can bite out of fear, but if you learn how to tame it, it won’t harm you anymore, and it will be a friend strong enough to defend you against any foe.”

Vatra –“How does it defend anyone? All it does is hurt anything it touches.”

Harald –“Have you been to Ivan’s farm?”

Vatra –“Yes?”

Harald –“Have you seen Wilfred’s bakery?”

Vatra –“Yeah?”

Harald –“Have you seen the horse outside, the wheel under the cart, the door’s lock, the tools and the weapons the hunters are using, and the hooks of the fishermen? They were all forged through fire. Fire is dangerous because it is like a prey willing to do anything to survive. But all you need is a bit of water, and it will die like a breeze of the wind. It knows that and it’s frightened, but if you listen to it carefully, you’ll be able to control it.”

Vatra –“Why would you believe that?”

Harald –“I’ll tell you an old story that has been passed down since before the grandfather of my grandfather. It’s a story about how our world came to be.”

Harald sat near her and cleared his throat.

Harald –“At first, the earth was a field of dust where the ancient gods were fighting among themselves to decide who would reign over the arid wasteland. Our world was lost in a painful chaos of hatred. We were scattered and unable to progress in this maelstrom of suffering until one day, a tribe decided that they’d become free or die trying. Of course, mankind was nothing more than a green plant in the eyes of the gods, but the tribesmen wanted to show them the strength of mankind. They all shaved their head and wore the same clothes. One of them went in the midst of the battlefield and climbed the highest peak to reach the height of the gods. He sat there and prayed until he died from hunger.”

Although she was a little confused, Vatra listened with attention.

Harald –“Of course, the gods were not paying attention to a green plant. But once the first one died, another identical person came up there, dug a hole, and buried the one before him. Do you know what he did next?”

Vatra –“No.”

Harald –“He sat there and prayed until he died of hunger.”

Vatra –“Why would they do that?”

Harald –“To change their fate and break the thread of time. One after the other, for thirty days, this green plant wouldn’t die in the wasteland ruled by the gods. Irritated by its pride and temerity, the gods stepped on it, hoping to send it back where it belonged, but even then, the plant kept coming back to life. For 365 days, the green plant wouldn’t die. Was it the birth of a new deity? This idea divided the gods. A part of them wanted to kill this new challenger, while the others wanted to protect it like their own child. Taken by doubt, the gods stopped their war to wonder what they would do. It is said that even today, the gods have yet to decide the fate they would give us, leaving our fate within our own hands to be changed by our will.”

Vatra –“You’re saying we’re like gods? That’s nonsense.”

Harald –“No, we aren’t gods, but if entire tribes, elders, and children alike could stop the war between the gods through resolve alone, why wouldn’t you be able to control fire with your own perseverance? It’s a much easier task.”

Harald laid his hand on her shoulder.

Harald –“I haven’t told you yet, but the name I gave you is from an old language of the time of my ancestors. Vatra means fire. The fire warding our heart from the coldest winds. The fire guiding our way through the shadowy paths. The fire that lets us rise against our foes. The fire that has the power to bring disasters, but also the power to bring life. I gave you that name in the hope that, one day, you’ll bring the latter one. I’ll give you a hand in giving me a hand at the forge, so stay strong little flare and one day . . . One day, you’ll grow into a blazing sun, and that day, you’ll make everyone around you feel more alive than ever.”

Her eyes were glittering as she swallowed her tears away.

Vatra –“I’ll . . . I’ll live up to it!”

Harald pulled out a silver pendant adorned by a tear-shaped amber with a butterfly crystallised in its core.

He placed the pendant around her neck and looked back into her eyes.

Harald –“This amulet was my wedding gift for my late spouse. I didn’t want her to get hurt from the fire, so I gave her this amulet to keep her safe. This amulet isn’t just beautiful; you see, silver conducts heat quicker than any other metal and this beautiful amber will tarnish if it burns. So, to protect this small butterfly, you’ll have a duty to keep yourself far enough from the fire to not feel the silver warm up around your neck.”

Vatra –“So, as long as it stays cold, I’m safe?”

Harald –“If it gets warm, just walk away and you’ll be fine.”

Vatra –“Thank you . . .”

As the days passed, Vatra helped Harald at the forge. At first, she carried tools and watched him explain every step in detail as he worked. She began with hammering an iron ingot into a flat bar, hitting the ore until it wasn’t red anymore, and striking again every time Harald would heat it up for her. It took her 23 days to flatten her first bar.

Ivan –“Harald, are you sure you’re not making her work too hard?”

Harald –“I’m not making her work at all. She wants to learn how to be a blacksmith, but I won’t teach her until she gets stronger. The tools we’re using are heavy. One mistake and she could be severely injured.”

Ivan –“She doesn’t want to play with the other kids?”

Harald –“Her broken soul has already grown to that of an adult. Losing everything at her age is probably harder than it is for an old bag of dust like me.”

Ivan –“Does she smile?”

Harald –“Not every day, but when she finished hammering the iron flat, she was smiling.”

Ivan –“I guess that’s what happens when you finish something you worked hard for.”

The next year, she forged her first knife. It was a really dull blade, but she made it herself and she was proud of it. Vatra began to spars with the boys and train with the weapons she was forging. For the following nine years, the little flare grew up, forging wheels and harvesting tools following the demands of the house of Valmai whose jurisdiction covered the Tree-Fall Village.

Winter after winter, her smile was rising from the ashes of her memories like a young phoenix.