Valravn

Part 3

Having traversed the whole of Denmark, Agneta knew she must travel beyond its borders if she had any hope of reaching her destination. She made her way down to the pier, where she spent a long day asking about passage. Those who did not immediately turn her away due to her youth and sex charged far too steep a price, and every time she mentioned her destination, the sailors would laugh at her and shake their heads dismissively.

Discouraged, with night closing in and a storm brewing, Agneta wandered through the town in search of a place to sleep. She had no money, and was turned away at every inn she came to.

Hail began to come down in thick, painful bursts, and she hurried to shelter underneath an abandoned barn at the edge of the village. Sopping wet, bone tired, and utterly disheartened, Agneta felt tears begin to form. Sniffling loudly, she wiped them away.

"What's wrong, dear child?" A wavering voice asked.

Agneta, sure she had been alone a moment ago, looked up, startled. "Wh-who's there?" She called, hating the quivering in her voice.

An old woman stepped forward from the shadows she had been hidden in. She had crinkled, kindly features and was stooped with age. Her clothes were nearly as ragged as Agneta's had been, though obviously kept as neat and tidy as possible. She held a knotted walking staff in one hand and took slow, halting steps that seemed to cause her pain.

"Just a fellow shelterer from the rain," she croaked. "But tell me, dear child, whatever is the matter? Surely I can be of some assistance."

Agneta looked at the kindly old woman, who clearly had no home to go to on the cold rainy night. Her frustration and anger died a little, remembering that other people were worse off than her.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said politely, bobbing a small curtsey. She rummaged around in her bag and withdrew the loaf of bread she had received at the castle, splitting it in half. "Would you care to share my supper?"

The old woman took her portion with gnarled hands and ate it up in two gulps before Agneta had even touched hers. She stared longingly at the other half Agneta held, and with a small sigh (she hadn't eaten anything all day) Agneta handed it over.

The second half vanished as quickly as the first, and the old woman smiled gratefully. "It's been a long while since I've had a meal like that. You are kind, child."

"It's the least I could do, old mother," Agneta said regretfully. "I only wish I could help more."

The old woman cupped her cheek, a strangely comforting gesture. "May your path be true, and may you always find your way home."

Before Agneta could react, the old woman lay down on the rough, hay strewn floor of the barn and closed her eyes.

Agneta, lost in her own thoughts, sat by herself for a while pondering her troubles, but soon her eyes grew heavy and she faded into unconsciousness.

She awoke the next morning, the sun shining through the cracks in the walls. She groaned and sat up, looking around for her companion, but she was nowhere to be found.

In the spot where the old woman had slept lay a small, battered compass.

Agneta picked it up and examined it. It appeared to be a normal compass at first glance, but upon closer inspection it was decidedly odd. There were no cardinal directions, only a delicately carved sun and moon. The compass appeared to be pointing at a spot between the two.

Agneta's eyes grew wide, realizing the significance of the old woman's gift. The hope that had died when she met with the king began to kindle back to life.

She raced down to the docks to charter a boat. Again, she approached every ship in the harbor, but none of the captains would undertake an unknown, potentially perilous voyage on the assurance of a magical compass and her so-called 'quest' from the king.

She turned to leave, frustrated once more, but her eye caught on something at the very end of the harbor. She crept closer, realizing that it was a small, unmanned dinghy. It seemed to be clinging to life, just barely floating above the water line. Its paint was chipped, and Agneta could see barnacles on its underside. But something about it just felt... right.

She glanced around, but no one spared her a second glance. She put one hand on the vessel, then another. When no one called out, "Thief!", or wrenched her away, she steeled her courage and leapt in.

Rummaging inside the boat, she could find no oars. After a minute of perplexed searching within the bowels of the boat, she finally looked up and discovered that she had left the harbor behind.

Glancing behind her, she could see the shore rapidly receding. All around her was a dense sea fog, painting the world in monochrome shades. Racing to the side of the vessel, Agneta saw the boat moving of its own volition, cutting a smooth line through the water.

Stifling her amazement, Agneta checked the peculiar compass. She frowned in consternation. They were a tad off course.

"Um... boat?" She called hesitantly, feeling foolish. "A little to the left, please."

To her delight (she was not altogether surprised, considering the large amount of impossible things that had already occurred that morning), the boat immediately responded, correcting its course.

"Thank you!" She called out merrily, patting its helm appreciatively. It may have been her imagination, but Agneta could have sworn she heard a hum of gratitude coming from it.

And so it went for the duration of her journey. Agneta would occasionally consult the compass to correct their path, but on the whole she occupied herself daydreaming of her heroic feats and what was sure to be a triumphant return home to her village, lost children in tow. In fact, she would rescue all the lost children, and all of Scandinavia would hold her up as a hero. She would be loved and adored by all, and she would never feel lonely or forgotten again.

Their path became more treacherous, startling Agneta out of her reverie. Great columns of black rock loomed out of the fog, towering like gods out of another era. Their voyage became an intricate, weaving dance between the outcrops, narrowly avoiding capsizing a number of times. Agneta stood at the helm, straining her eyes for any sight of land and safe haven.

After what felt like an eternity but could have been any amount of time, the sea fog cleared to reveal a desolate, barren strip of beach. The sand was dark grey and flaky like ash, and foreboding mountains rose so sharply in the distance as to almost be cliffs. Her eyes traced a steep, narrow path leading from the shore and winding its way up, up, up until she lost it in the clouds surrounding the mountain peak.

The boat slowed, stuck in the shallow waters at the edge of the beach. Agneta climbed out and dragged the vessel up onto the sand, tucking it behind a large outcropping where it would remain partially hidden. When she returned - if she returned - she would need a way to get home. Patting the boat appreciatively, she gathered her meager possessions and strode to the beginning of the path.

Agneta took a deep breath and steeled herself for the long climb and whatever lay beyond. She hitched up her sack and began her ascent.