The Jewel of Orlegon

Chapter 2: Child of the Storm

Tall and thin, the stranger wore dusty and weather-worn travel clothes, leaning on a walking stick. His unkempt gray hair and several days' worth of beard suggested he hadn't taken the time to tidy up before coming to the temple. He glanced at Alteria for a moment before turning his attention back to the cavity in the volcano from which she had emerged. Without waiting for an invitation, he entered the rocky corridor, first taking off his shoes. Once he had disappeared around a bend in the corridor, the young woman turned to her grandfather.

"A pilgrim?" she asked.

"In a manner of speaking," replied Werem, his gaze fixed on the entrance to the rocky corridor. "An old acquaintance."

"Who isn't a native of the island?" the young woman exclaimed, surprised. "That must go back decades."

"Before I arrived in Saisio."

Indeed, it dated back to a distant time, long before Alteria's birth. Unlike his wife, Werem wasn't a native of Nimeo; he came from the mainland and had only exiled himself to the island later in life, as his appearance often reminded him. In his youth, he must have been quite tall. And even though time had stooped him, he still retained his broad shoulders, on which Alteria used to climb as a child, towering over most of the island's inhabitants.

His snow-white hair was cut short, accentuating his azure blue eyes, softening his stern face that intimidated many. His skin had once been as fair as that of everyone from the mainland, but the sun had tanned it for years, giving it a brown hue that betrayed the many hours of toil in the small field behind the house. But what had always impressed the young woman the most was the deep burn scar the old man carried on his left arm, leaving a white mark on his tanned skin.

As Alteria wondered where and how her grandfather could have met this strange pilgrim, Werem took off his shoes and, before entering the temple, turned to the young woman.

"You should hurry if you want to make it to your appointment with young Lumia before nightfall," he advised, "and don't forget the medicine you promised your grandmother to deliver. And I hope you plan to arrive early in town tomorrow."

"How do you know?" his granddaughter wondered, even though she hadn't told anyone about her upcoming journey to Saisio.

"Who did you think you could hide your growing excitement from these past few days?" Werem replied with a smile. "Besides, the ship docked yesterday while I was in town, just before I met our pilgrim. I might be old, but I can still draw conclusions from what I observe."

Alteria lowered her head, ashamed. She regretted thinking she could fool her grandparents, even if she had her reasons. After all, this escapade seemed as futile as beating the water with a stick in the hope of stunning a fish, and she didn't want to return knowing that her grandparents would understand her failure. That's why she had claimed to want to spare her grandmother the tiring journey to Lumia's house to deliver medicine.

Seeing her granddaughter's discomfort, Werem's smile stretched a little wider than usual. He draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"I don't blame you, Alteria, for not wanting to face the possibility of failure. But you can't always do everything in secret to avoid the shame of a mistake. Especially if tomorrow you were to see your wish come true."

"That's a big 'if'," the young woman muttered.

Werem sighed playfully and tightened his embrace.

"You're an exceptional person, Alteria," he reassured her, "and you're not from here. Who knows? Maybe this so-called curse only affects natives. Now go, you still have a long way to go. I'll take care of our pilgrim."