The Fourth Day in Whesmorr

Javi was incredibly correct. Twelve hours of sleep later, I found my eyes goaded open by the urgings of Noora, whose ears were keener than even mine many times.

Sleepyhead, Noora whispered despite the fact literally no one else – maybe one other person, but they were more myth than material – would ever hear her, There’s someone plotting beneath us.

Can’t we just foil their scheme when I wake up? You can take good notes…

Noora pat my cheeks with her wings, earning from me a disgruntled moan as I tuned my attentions towards the people beneath the floorboards, discussing their schemes.

“—into the fold.”

“He’s a traveller; he’ll leave, and we can resume our work.”

“What if he finds us out? And tries to intercede? You see how he saved Petros last night, and has been snooping around all the outcroppings…”

“You’re such a nervous one, Nellie.”

“He’s right upstairs! What if he’s listening?”

“How could he be? He’s asleep! But… I concede your point. It would be pretty terrible if he were to leave and return with greater numbers. We can stop him as long as we outnumber him.”

“Tonight, then?” the one named Nellie plead.

“Tonight. To avenge our fallen.”

Not sounding good for you, Noora murmured, fluttering from my chest to the headboard as I sat up. Noora… to those unfamiliar with my lineage, it is a bit difficult to explain. Which is why I rarely mention her to anyone. The world I come from, there are a people called Sages. Each of us have a spirit within, with whom we can commune and perform what commonly gets translated as “magic.” It’s not really “magic” as you think; we’re just communicating with the world around us, asking for favours that resonate with our spirit. In one language, our word for “spirit” gets translated into “Twig,” which I always found funny. Lots of tree analogy in that language. Of languages I was raised in, I can speak five: cosmosong, skysong, aquasong, arboursong, and pebblesong. Each one of those allows me to communicate with specific things. Respectively, astronomical beings, sky-dwelling beings, aqueous beings, tree beings, and earth beings. My sister mastered twice as many languages as I, but… we can bring up Russu later. In fact, we can chat about all of that later; I’m telling you about my last day in Whesmorr, and the secret I learned therein.

But, to finish explaining Noora, she’s my spirit, without whom I couldn’t communicate to the universe and perform feats labelled as “magic,” and though I can refer to her outside myself, she is a core part of myself, and without her I would be empty and very much dead. And people can’t see her. Except, theoretically, one person. More on that later.

With Noora on my shoulder, I left my room and made my way outside; I was extraordinarily hungry and hoped to have a breakfast meal at the bakery down the road. Tragically, the bakery was closed, and I found myself at the town centre, in which stood a few vendors thriving off the sealed doors of the beloved town bakery. It’s uncertain whether people enjoyed the flirtations of the baker more or less than they did the pastries and confectionery, but I could personally attest to the fact that it was incredibly difficult to discern between affections towards the gentle-faced man whose strong yet soft-seeming hands kneaded dough all day and the products he peddled. Perhaps that is why I felt a little grouchy when the vendors started offering me their wares.

He reminds you of Kaelra, Noora explained the prior day, placing why I’d felt the baker to be so familiar.

I sighed. Is he even still alive?

Noora burrowed deeper into my core, sharing her unending warmth with the hopes we kept there.

“Greetings, traveller!” spoke the baker. “You look like you need some food.”

I smiled, feeling vaguely benumbed by the questions I stuffed back down my throat. Instead, I offered a wry, “You look like you need to sell some.”

“Then we once again find ourselves in symbiotic predicaments,” he replied, waving his powdered and flour-laden hands over the multitude of sweet-smelling buns and steaming loaves laid upon his table. I departed from it with two buns and a loaf tucked under my arm; he was kind enough to wrap it in paper so as to not texturally disrupt my method of carrying spare bread. I appreciated him for it and whispered for the stones upon which he kneaded and baked his bread to retain their warmth and wellness, and to care for him.

But the bakery was closed, and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy that fluffy magnificence as I wished, and the town centre was a bit loud, and—

Sampaa… breathe. Buy that so you have some energy, then climb to a rooftop so we can listen and think, hm?

I smiled inwardly. Yes, Noora. Thank you. Literally would die without her. I purchased the meat and vegetable meal which was roasted on a narrow wooden stake and chewed its contents as I made my way away from the bustling centre and towards the taller buildings on the fringes of the town. Seeing no one around, I pushed myself from the ground with a slight flexing of my toes and ankles and landed atop the tallest parapet, upon which I sat and finished ingesting my meal for the day. Noora joined me, sliding from my centre and onto the winds, upon which she glided and surveyed the area.

We have until tonight before they try to kill you – or, I suppose, until tonight to figure out how to stop them.

I nodded. That’s enough time. We should stop them before then. But what are we stopping? What does it all mean? We found that the sigils activate some kind of ancient thing, but we don’t know the world well enough to urge that thing to sleep. We’ve only been here three days…

Let me ask the world, then. See what it can remember of itself.

Do you think she’ll shift us again, soon?

Noora shivered. She hated contemplating the Nameless.

Sorry, Noora. Side thought. Tell me what you find out; I’ll be here.

I sat myself in the way my mother had taught Russu and me, when we were little. To most, I found, we Sages sat upside-down, but we sat upon the sky, with our heads towards the planetary core; it was our way of listening to the secrets buried within. The skies carried news of the day, but to understand the history, you had to nestle. Having trained in that, I found it refreshing and familiar, sitting in that levitating position, and so I indulged while Noora gathered the information she could. By the time she returned to me, it was early afternoon, and the sun was preparing for its descent.

Welcome back, I greeted her.

Noora smiled, leaning her head to mine as she remarked, You picked a good place to snooze. Here is where they’re coming.

Oh? Now?

Now, Noora verified, sharing with me her memories of watching the mysterious women make their journey to the wall upon which I stood. What had been one woman had multiplied over the course of the years, finally reaching the peaks Noora and I had encountered the preceding night. And, because of Noora and my shenanigans the previous night, there were only three remaining. Still plenty terrifying – remember, I am scrawny, and these were elephantine to my erminesque self – but much more likely to prove survivable than twelve.

What I found fascinating – and I relayed this to Noora as we prepared ourselves for capture – was the memory of the trees. They were almost secretive, uncertain of whether they should share with me what the sigils activated – not because they didn’t trust me, but because they weren’t sure they were allowed.

“We know you’re up here, traveller,” snarled one of the mammoth women trudging up the steps.

Another concluded the obvious, “There’s no escaping your fate.”

The third, landing behind me and placing a serrated edge to my throat, said nothing but with their actions.

“I really was just passing through, friends,” I murmured, palms facing the sky to show I hadn’t any intentions of foiling their immediate nor future plans. “That’s all I ever do: pass through.”

“Even light can taint the window it touches,” spoke the first one.

That’s the most valid counterpoint we’ve ever been given to that, Noora awed. I nodded internally, bewildered by the sound rebuttal.

“You’ve killed nine of our sisters. Nine! That’s nine more k—”

“That’s none of his concern,” intoned the one pinning me to her stone slab stomach. “I sense a great amount of spirit with this one; I think his blood shall do nicely to return our sisters to us.”

“All nine? From this scrawny lad?” the one I recognised as Nellie marvelled.

I presumed the one whose thighs felt like tense steel nodded before pointing out, “We can reverse his actions so long as we use him in the spell.”

“Do I have a say in this?” I asked.

My answer was pressure to my throat.

“Can’t we use his power to make it so we never have to bargain again?”

“He would have to be willing, Aspera, and we have already put him under duress.”

“I might be amenable,” I mentioned. “I was genuinely curious about why you would go to such great lengths to keep all this a secret from the rest of the town.”

“They would never agree to it,” Nellie sighed.

The one whose skin smelled of gemflower growled, “You would not understand, traveller. You have been here a mere week! How could you understand our ways?”

They are delightfully logical, Noora admired.

I concurred silently as I remarked aloud, “I can understand the skies, the water, the trees, the stone… if you explain it to me, I can understand. I hear the trees wondering if they are allowed to mention the purpose of the ritual; I hear the waters are frightened and the sky in awe — these aren’t things that I would feel if this ritual was wrong. I just… I’m here temporarily, friends. I just wish to help before I depart. Please, tell me: how can I serve you?”

Nellie looked to Aspera, who looked to the titaness behind me, who sighed.

My eyes adjusted to the dark immediately as Noora lent me some more of her attributes.

They left you here to figure it out, Noora explained, having taken notes while I was unconscious.

“I don’t remember getting hit…” I scanned my surroundings for any kind of defining trait. I was definitely deep in amongst the trees, and the ringing in my ears told me a powerful weaving was taking place.

Noora chuckled. The knife was poisoned, apparently. I neutralised it as much as I could, but it was turning off your brain as soon as she pressed it to your artery.

Cheerily, I quipped, “Aw, thanks, Noora!”

Anytime, buddy. Took all my focus to do it.

“Seems to be a trend,” I rasped. I asked the world to assist me in rising and it hefted me onto my feet; I thanked it as I examined the weaving all around me. Twelve sigils were illuminated by small fires burning within stones carved to contain them; these sigils were clustered in groups of four, and I stood in the centre of the triangle.

Me, saving you? My favourite thing to do.

“No wonder you do it so much.” I tossed a few blades of grass into the air. They each flew away from each other towards their own corner of the diagram. “What do you think the bargain is?”

Hm?

“The bargain. I forget which one, they mentioned a bargain of sorts. One the people of Whesmorr would hate to have made.”

What would they have made the bargain with?

“The trees weren’t allowed to tell – or, they were unsure whether they could tell us. No other… what bargain would—” I slapped my palm to my mouth so hard that Noora hovered concernedly to see if I’d caused any irreparable damage. “I’m fine, it’s just… who bade the trees to silence? Why would they hesitate to tell us? Trees! Are you the true denizens of Whesmorr?”

For the first time in any evening I’d been at Whesmorr, the wind fell silent and the forest was still.

“The true denizens of Whesmorr… Whesmorr is so much more than merely a city, more than one species of person,” rasped a voice in the local dialect of arboursong.

“They speak as if they can understand, after having been here a mere four days…” snarled another.

“They were close. Incorrect, certain of themselves, but… ah, traveller, we have decided to tell you our secret.”

I felt pricks and stings on my toes and ankles and felt myself no longer as curious as I’d been moments before.

“You’ve come a long way to find it. And we think you’ll be able to help us, which you swore to do anyhow!” intoned another.

Amongst the general arboursong, I heard giggles and growls of anticipation, writhing amongst the stillness. My thighs started to itch. My hips were prodded and lightly pierced.

“How may I be of service to you?” I asked, trying to ignore the growing ache around my wrists and elbows, the scratching feeling ravaging my back and lower abdomen.

“With the power in your veins, traveller, we might be able to restore ourselves to our full potential.”

“The twelve were our first attempts, and they worked! Every single one!”

“Until you destroyed them, of course. But you can remedy this, as you offered!”

“We were going to bless all the inhabitants of Whesmorr with what we’ve learned, we just haven’t been able to manage more than a few at a time.”

“You, however, with this overabundance of spirit… you will enable us to do the whole of Whesmorr at once!”

The small incisions and inserts started along my throat now, and I sighed.

“Is it just immortality you’re after, then? With this transformation, I mean.” I asked.

“What a greater testament to the magnificence of Whesmorr than an unending memorial?”

I’m sorry, Sampaa, Noora consoled. Should we go ahead and escape now?

“Yeah…” I moaned, disappointed in such a boring rationale. I’d been hoping it was an effort to restore the glorious forest of Whesmorr, which had been hinted in some of the books I’d found a day or two prior, or even to offer the trees themselves as memorials, or even some archaic deal made with a bloodthirsty creature or god or whatever, but… it was just weavers trying to live longer than they needed to.

Noora helped translate my urging into aquasong, and the trees piercing me with their roots laughed.

“Futile, your attempts to—”

“I’m not quite retracting it, see?” I remarked on my blood, which at this point ran through a majority of the trees of Whesmorr. “I wanted you to have it, honour on my word and whatnot, but whether I would let it help or harm you… that depended on your answer.”

They’re ready to comply, Noora alerted me.

“We’ll be saying goodbye, then!” I informed the forest, releasing the message through every cell of myself in the root system. The trees cried out as their roots were stopped up by massive clots which, with Noora’s translation to pebblesong, eviscerated the root system from the inside out as the metals in my blood were ejected forcibly from the cells they came into contact with. The sound of a thousand dying trees resounded throughout my ears; the roots attached to me crumbled away; I fell to my knees; Noora sealed my cuts. Three giants stood before me.

“Told you he could do it,” Nellie quipped.