Journal Entry, Dated 11/02

Jasmine

Metadata

Reference Number: BICI/SSP/CRJ1004/005

Title: Journal Entry, Dated 11/02

Author: Jasmine

Date: Written approximately 11/02, Year 5607 A. o. W.

Extent: One journal entry, eight pages long

11/02

I made it. In a way.

I made it somewhere.

I don’t know the name of this abandoned village, but I know it’s nowhere near the Tending Grounds. Unlike Seabreeze Shoal, there’s no wall to protect this village from the aberrations, though at least the cottage I’m staying in hangs lit lanterns from each corner of its roof. My host insists I’ll be safe here. I don’t believe him, but I don’t have much of a choice. 

As for how I got here…

The morning started out promising. I could see just enough of the sun through the treeline to reliably head east. If I kept heading east, I would eventually reach the river, and then the Tending Grounds.

That grand plan? Almost immediately ruined. The aberrations chased me deep into the forest, so far away from any kind of path that I became lost all over again. 

By the time I could take in my surroundings without getting immediately mauled, I had no idea where I was. Once again, I headed east. There was a large river at the eastern border of the forest. I may have lost the path, but if I could follow that river downstream, I would eventually make my way back to the path. 

What I stumbled across first was a chasm. Tripped over it and nearly broke my nose on a rock. At first, it didn’t look like much. Just a wide crack in the ground. But it was the only landmark I had seen since the path, so I followed it. And the longer I followed it, the wider it became. 

It was unsettling. I didn’t look closely into its depths, too worried that an aberration could come skittering out, but it seemed to go on and on. After a while I realized aberrations weren’t appearing, so I took my chances and kept following it. Better let a gamble flank my side then die from those things hounding me in every direction.

I walked for an hour, maybe two. Eventually it led me to something strange: rotten wood logs and old stones piled up along the chasm’s edge. They reminded me of a half-built wall.

A half-built wall meant that there was someone around to half-build it. Once I realized that, I ran as fast as I could. My exhaustion didn’t matter anymore. Neither did my wounds. I nearly twisted my ankle on a root and even that spike of pain didn’t stop me. Not when I was so close to a reprieve. 

The trees were suffocating until they weren’t, revealing the ruins of a village scattered across a meadow. Most of the buildings were falling apart, but there were a few cabins that were still intact. In the center of the village was the rotten foundation of a massive building. This place must have been abandoned for years. There was no way it was Stonesworth.

But I was too relieved at seeing any kind of shelter to care. Now, I can’t stop asking myself: Why wasn’t this village on my map? Nico says that he’s the only person who lives here, but just how long has he been alone here? He doesn’t look that much older than me.

Nico… my host. I don’t trust him. He came out of the only intact cottage as I came to a stop, my lungs struggling for air. Another pang from the wounds on my leg reminded me that not only were they still there, they had reopened all over again. I wasn’t going to die of blood loss, but they needed attention, and soon. 

The boy looked around the meadow cautiously, one hand on the trigger of the crossbow he carried. Then his eyes fell on me, and he waved like I was an old friend. “Hello, stranger! I don’t see travelers out here often. Are you lost?”

He came over to meet me. From up close, I could make out more about him. Taller than me, but around my age. Maybe a little older. He had brown skin and fluffy brown hair surrounding a boyish face. His eyes were orange, bordering on red — the same color as the gemstones dangling from his single earring. Most of his fingers were covered in heavy metal rings. 

What struck me was his outfit: an oversized red coat that covered him from his neck to the middle of his thighs, followed by black pants and chunky leather boots. What looked like coarse gray wool lined the inside, peeking out from the bottom of his sleeves and from the hood. I grew up watching merchants shill nearly every type of wool, leather, or skin that existed in the world, but I had never seen a material like this before.

The fishers wore simple linen clothing, the Embers wore their robed uniforms and armor, and the merchants wore whatever gaudy baubles and delicate silks they thought would make them look richest, hidden beneath thin, durable travel cloaks. Seabreeze Shoal was the coldest place in the world. Why would anyone further inland from my village ever wear something so bulky? 

“I need to get back to the main path. Where is this place?” I asked him. He may have looked and acted strange, but at least he could answer some questions. 

The boy grinned at me like I had just told him a joke. I didn’t see anything funny about the situation. “You’re pretty far from the main path, stranger. I could show you the way back, but there’s not much daylight left. Even if you’re fast, you might not reach it by nightfall. That, and you look like you need a nice bath and a bed. Why not stay the night?”

I couldn’t deny the appeal of a soft bed and an aberration-free night. But that didn’t mean I trusted him. “You don’t know me. I don’t have an Undying Ember to vouch for me. What if I’m a thief?”

He eyed my tiny little satchel. The bedroll on my back. I didn’t bring much when I left Seabreeze Shoal. “Either you’re a pretty bad thief, or you got lost on the way to your next mark.” He laughed at his own joke, then turned around. For all I didn’t trust him, he didn’t seem to feel the same about me. I could pull out my knife and stab him in the back if I really wanted to. Did lost travelers stumble across his cottage often, or was he a naive idiot? “Come in. Thief or not, every traveler deserves a cup of tea and a chance to get off their feet.”

He led me back to his cottage, which was massive for a single person. I glanced back at him again, and that’s when I lingered on his earring. That was it — he clearly didn’t live here alone. Where was his spouse? 

The central room, as I looked around for this absent spouse, had all the essentials: a wooden table for eating, some shelves with kitchen supplies, a hearth, and a surprising amount of wooden and metal decorations. I also spotted two open doors leading to other rooms. One must have been where he slept.

A fire burned in the hearth, making the place uncomfortably warm. I wondered how he wasn’t melting in his giant coat. I thought about taking off my cloak to cool off, but I didn’t. I would feel too vulnerable without it. 

He gestured for me to take a seat at the wooden table. I sat in one chair and looked at the other three, one at each side of the table. Intricate patterns swirled across every backrest. I didn’t recognize the designs, but they were beautiful. I’ve never seen chairs made with such care before. 

The boy crouched in front of the hearth as he put a pot of water on to boil. As he worked, he started answering questions I didn’t ask.

“Undying Ember or not, it’s only good manners to offer weary travelers a place to stay for the night. It’s not about trusting you. It’s just the right thing to do. Besides, I don’t get visitors often. Not that many people stray so far off the path, and you’re the first I’ve seen in a while.”

He set two cups on the table. They were also made of wood, but these were painted a deep red and covered in carvings of unfamiliar animals. Badly-carved cows, maybe? They looked like the wooden animal figurine that sat on the nearby windowsill. Like everything else about him, it was odd. Why not use glass or ceramic cups? At least it felt nice in my hand when I picked it up.

“I’m Nico, by the way. The rest of the village is abandoned. This is the only habitable cottage left. I stay mostly because of unlucky people like you. Now, what’s your name?”

My name was the least I could give him. “Jasmine.”

“Well met, Jasmine,” he said, moving back to the fire. He poured some of the boiling water into a teapot. At least this was ceramic, and decorated with carefully painted orange petals. An astringent smell hit me as he set the teapot down on the table, and it took all of my self-control not to make a face. Ugh… tea. 

He gestured at me to put the cup down. The moment I did, he filled it to the brim with tea. Once again, I barely resisted the urge to grimace. From this close, the smell was unbearable. He slipped into the chair across from me after pouring some for himself. Then he watched me, as if waiting for me to say something, and I tried not to wrinkle my nose.

I hate tea. Always have. My parents didn’t drink it, but Spica introduced Blossom to her favorite teas when we were younger — it’s popular in the Hall of Kindling and Charcoal, apparently —  and the most I could do to shield myself from having to smell it was to make Blossom brew pots when I wasn’t home. 

But I wasn’t going to tell him any of that.  

The silence stretched on. Nico grinned through it. 

“You’re not much of a talker, huh? Well, that’s not a problem. I talk more than enough for both of us. You must be exhausted. And I should have asked earlier — are you hurt? Did the aberrations attack you?”

“Nothing that’ll kill me.”

He laughed. Casual. Good humor. Like we were friends. “Great! Glad to know you’ll make it through the night. But I do have medicine and bandages if you need any.”

I wasn’t interested in chitchat, but I still had questions. “Where’s your spouse?” I asked. I didn’t understand why Nico hadn’t mentioned them yet. If someone was going to barge in on me, then I wanted to know in advance. 

“My spouse?” Nico asked, eyes wide and utterly lost. The laughter in his voice went silent. “Where’d you get that idea from?” 

I shot a pointed look at his earring. He slowly reached up until his fingers brushed the metal that held the gemstones in place. “Oh. Oh! Haha, this thing! It’s more of a… memento. And you?” He asked, looking at my mother’s earring.

“It was my mother’s.”

“Ah. My condolences.”

So it was only the two of us here. 

“How do you know the aberrations aren’t going to tear us apart in the middle of the night? Are those lanterns really enough to protect us?”

“Everyone always asks me that. Don’t worry, the cottage is protected by magic. The aberrations can’t get in even if they tried. The torches aren’t here to ward them off. They’re here to draw travelers like you in,” he said with a wink.

Strange, untrustworthy, AND annoying. Just great. 

“Fine. Next question— where are we? My map doesn’t show a village in the middle of the forest. There’s Stonesworth, but that’s by the river.” I braved a sip of the tea, and made a face before I could stop myself. It tasted even worse than it smelled.

Nico looked at me oddly, but at least he answered my question instead of playing coy. “Ah. Travelers usually ask that, too. You saw how many ruins were out there. This was a small village long before it was abandoned. We were never more than a hundred people, and that was a loooong time ago. Between that and being stuck in the middle of the woods, most people don’t even know this place exists.”

Finally, his first answer that made complete sense. Some Wandering Embers follow their new merchants to Seabreeze Shoal, having never heard of it before. Maps are only as detailed as their creator’s knowledge of the world. There must be villages scattered all over that aren’t on my map. 

I choked down more tea. This time, I even managed to keep my expression neutral. That didn’t stop Nico from staring at me. 

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He shook his head with a smile. “I’m so curious! I’ve met a lot of people in my life, but never anyone like you. What’s your story?”

I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. I still don’t. There’s one special thing about me, and that’s only in my blood, not on my face. Besides, even if I wasn’t exhausted, I wasn’t going to sit around and tell a complete stranger every horrible thing that had ever happened to me. “Is there somewhere I can sleep?”

“Aww, not even a little hint? Just a few words?” He pressed on despite my silence. “Okay, how about this — don’t give me that look, it’s only one question! Where did you come from?”

I didn’t nearly get mauled by aberrations only to get roped into an interrogation. “A place with the good fucking manners to let me go to fucking sleep already!” 

Nico winced, and immediately a wave of guilt hit me. Before I could apologize, he disappeared into one of the rooms, muttering something about being a better host. This was his home… I think. He had a right to know where I was from. 

Over the next several minutes he scurried around the cottage, probably frantically preparing my room. I kept my gaze trained on my cup and traced my finger over the creatures along its edge. I even downed the rest of the tea. I was already a bad guest. I didn’t need to be an even worse one. 

Eventually he crept back into my field of vision. “I’ve set up the spare room for you. You should have everything you need to rest up. I’m right in the other room if you need anything else.”

I nodded and struggled to my feet. He started to move forward, as if to help me, but stopped himself. He gestured towards an open door and I began limping towards it. Sitting made me realize just how badly my leg hurt. 

Right as I reached the doorway, Nico spoke up. “Oh! And sorry for earlier. I guess I got too excited,” he said with a slight laugh.

“It’s fine,” I said. I probably should have apologized for losing my temper, but he left into the other room, and the moment passed.

…It’s fine.

The room is surprisingly comfortable, all things considered. There’s just enough room for a desk, a bed, and the bathtub he set up for me in the corner. He even brought in a privacy screen. The same odd creatures that adorned the cup are painted on it.

I’m writing this at the desk now. He left some medical supplies out, so I was finally able to dress my wounds properly. The disinfectant stung, but if I die on the road tomorrow, at least it won’t be from infection.

…He even left me some jerky to snack on. I had a few pieces; they’re delicious. I’ll save the rest for when I leave. 

Nico is… nice, I suppose. But this village feels out of place, and he seems just as strange. Nothing looks right to me. Even the wood of the cabin walls seems unfamiliar. Seabreeze Shoal isn’t far from this place, but everything here is more different than I thought it could ever be.

Then again, maybe I’m the strange one here, and all these things: the wood, the wool, the offputting friendliness, is what the rest of the world is used to. Back when Cinna and Malva still sold their wares in Seabreeze Shoal, they always told Spica and I about how unique our village was. Spica once had to pull me aside and tell me they didn’t mean it as a compliment. 

The village. And all the villagers. They must know I’m gone by now. Can they really handle the lighthouse themselves? Who’s going to guide them home now?

…No. It isn’t my fucking problem. THEY’RE not my problem. Finding Blossom’s killer is the only thing that matters. Even if I survive this trip, I’m never going back to Seabreeze Shoal again. They can pray for guidance. His Eternal Warmth never listened to me, but maybe He’ll listen to them.

Magic and prayers never saved anyone I loved. And once I confront the Embers, magic and prayers will probably kill me too.   

I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning. All I need is Nico to show me where we are on the map, and I’ll be on my way.