The Jewel of Orlegon

Chapter 6: The price of silence

Once outside, the young woman headed toward Tarnön's workshop to retrieve the belongings she had left there before joining the crowd. The sounds of bellows stoking the embers and a hammer working metal indicated that the blacksmith was continuing his work. She decided not to disturb him and quickly retrieved her old bag by reaching over the counter. As she looked up, Alteria's gaze was drawn to the sword hanging on the workshop wall.

It was Tarnön's first blade, forged back when he was still learning on the mainland, and he had kept it as a memento. He rarely forged anything on Nimeo besides tools for working the fields or spare parts for ships. Nirchaïn and Lwod had asked their father many times for permission to use the sword, but he had always refused. Over the years, this sword had become a kind of relic for all the children of the city and its surroundings. It was with weapons like this that the heroes of legends accomplished their feats, and many boys in Saisio had fallen asleep dreaming of one day wielding that blade.

The young woman straightened up and slung the strap of her bag over her head, all the while keeping her eyes on the weapon hanging there. Finally, the sight of the blade helped her reconnect with reality, as if the edge of the metal had torn through the veil that the experience in the circle of flames had cast over her perception of the world. For the first time, Alteria saw the sword not as a childhood desire, but as a legitimate tool of combat. The idea then occurred to her that she might one day need to defend herself against a weapon like this, and she immediately doubted her ability to do so. That's when her attention shifted to the bracelet now adorning her wrist. Upon reflection, maybe she could learn to defend herself with a blade like that, with a lot of training.

The curiosity to test the powers that Nanthamo had mentioned was eating at her, and she couldn't contain it. Wasn't the topaz gift supposed to allow her to move objects without touching them? She just needed to figure out how. Driven by some sort of intuition, Alteria reached her hand toward the sword rack and tried to imagine it responding to her presence. Seconds passed as Alteria's concentration grew more intense. Her hand trembled in front of her as she waited with bated breath for something to happen. Eventually, she had to admit defeat—the sword remained stubbornly motionless against the wall.

Resigned, Alteria let her hand drop and looked away from the blacksmith's workshop. Once again, she began to doubt the truth of what Nanthamo had explained to her, and new doubts plagued her. How could she bear the ten-seal mark when she had never been able to use any of the abilities that the Enartians were said to possess? Could the candles be wrong? What would happen if she never managed to break one of the seals?

With her mind filled with questions, Alteria resumed her journey to leave Saisio. As she turned down one of the city's alleys, she cast a final glance over her shoulder, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. However, she didn't meet anyone's gaze, neither from the square nor from the tent. She continued on her way, paying no more attention to the people around her. Suddenly, Alteria realized that a new challenge was ahead of her.

How would she break the news of her departure to Werem and Skeïr?

The journey back was much more difficult for Alteria than she had initially imagined. It wasn't the sun bothering her, although on this afternoon, its rays made the long path back to her home more arduous. Rather, it was the thought that each step brought her closer to the inevitable separation from her grandparents. How would they react upon learning that she was leaving them for several years, making the possibility of goodbye more plausible than just a mere farewell? Would Skeïr shed tears while secretly adding extra provisions to her bag for one last time? Would Werem feel alone when going to the temple, knowing he wouldn't find anyone behind the broken altar? Each question tightened the young woman's heart, and she even began to regret the events of that day.