The Language of Fire

Chapter Ten - The Land Wight

Seulf and Asta soon fell back into their familiar comfortable silence as they walked along and Fridmund didn't try to break it, a fact for which Asta was thankful. Together they walked through the forest, skirting around the bottom of a great range of mountains.

Their path led them around the base of some mountains. The territory there became wilder and the track harder to find. Self explained that no one lived in these parts and it was only traders who followed these paths. When Fridmund asked why no one lived here Seulf explained that the mountains were very old and local superstitions said that they had once been inhabited by trolls and other dark creatures before the ways between the worlds had closed. Although the creatures were now gone the superstitions had persisted and no one wanted to live here.

Asta thought that the land around the base of the mountains had a wild beauty to it, with moss-covered boulders littered between tall gnarled trees and the occasional small stream winding in-between. During the morning and evening mist would come down from the mountains, giving the landscape a ghostly feel.

One evening while they were setting up camp they heard a shout. Asta and Seulf looked at each other in alarm. Fridmund had gone off to find some water while Asta started the fire and Seulf set up their shelter.

They both stood and hurried in the direction of the shout, bursting through the bushes onto a strange scene.

Fridmund was kneeling on the ground in front of a tannin-dark forest pool fed by a small waterfall. Above the pool's surface floated a woman. Her skin was pale grey and her long, flowing hair was pure white. Shadows swirled around her, clothing her form, twisting in a breeze that Asta couldn't feel. The air in the glade around the pool seemed to sparkle darkly, the plants and trees around the pool shining like jewels against the shadows and the cascading waterfall glittering like dark glass.

The woman's uncanny eyes shifted to Asta and Seulf as they arrived. Asta stopped dead at that gaze, fear trickling down her back. Where the woman's eyes should have been there were only depthless black hollows.

'Who else dares desecrate my home?' The woman demanded, her voice ageless and cold.

Seulf stepped forward and bowed his head respectfully.

'We did not mean to disturb your rest, guardian. I apologise if our companion did something to offend you. I promise it was unintentional.'

Asta looked at the unexpectedly eloquent Seulf in surprise then back at the spirit, suddenly understanding. The woman was a land wight - a guardian spirit of the land - and this waterfall must be her home.

Land wights were usually peaceful, but their rage could be terrible when they were angered. Asta looked at Fridmund's quivering shoulders and felt that his fear was justified.

'That may be but his transgression must be answered for.' The wight said, its voice eerily emotionless.

Fridmund started stammering. 'I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-.'

'Silence,' the wight commanded.

Fridmund made a gurgling noise. Water started bubbling out of his mouth, seemingly from nowhere. He choked, doubling over retching as he emptied his lungs, but the water kept coming. Asta watched as Fridmund started to go red in the face, his whole body heaving and convulsing now. With horror she realised that the wight was drowning him from the inside.

She lurched forward and sank to her knees in front of the wight.

'Please, tell us what we can do to make this right, just let him go.' She begged.