The Farmer's Wife #005

The woman - Anya - was sitting on one of the few intact chairs in the house's kitchen, staring blankly ahead of her. Anat stood over the counter behind her, mashing together some of the myriad herbs and oils he carried in his satchel with a mortar and pestle.

Behind him, Valdis and Thanos surveyed the room, eyes peering into every dark corner. Both looked discomforted. Matthias felt the same. It was the same feeling that came with wandering a graveyard at night, or sleeping alone in an empty house; not fear, exactly, but the unease that breeds it. There was a wrongness about the place, something he could not quite place, but that hovered in the corner of his mind's eye.

He realised that, without thinking, he had backed up against a wall and was looking nervously from side to side.

Shaking his head and taking a slow, deliberate step away from the wall, he watched Brother Anat scrape the preparation he had made from the mortar into a pot he had filled with water and placed over the fire he had set in the fireplace. The house had had no kettle that they could find; strange, for the farmers of the plains.

Thanos watched Anat slowly stirring the mixture in the pot, and shook his head. "We are wasting time. Valdis, novice, come. We will search the house while the Beneficar attends to his work."

In the corridor, Thanos indicated which rooms Matthias and Valdis were to search with a brusque nods, and then cautiously opened a door and stepped through. Valdis did the same.

Suddenly feeling completely alone, Matthias walked to the end of the corridor. The doorway in front of him was empty, the door that had filled it lying shattered on the floor of the corridor. Someone or something had broken out of the room.

Kneeling, he picked up a large fragment of the door and examined it. It was oak, thick and strong, without even a sign of damage from mold or mite. Whatever had broken the door had done so with incredible force.

Stepping into the small room, the first thing he saw was the bed. The sheets were a tangled mess, and the single pillow had been thrown to the floor, a good way across the room.

As he stepped across the room, he saw the broken shutters covering the glass less window; splinters and chunks of wood were scattered across the room. In through the window, out through the door.

He grasped the corner of one of the bedsheets and brought it to his nose. Burning sage; he wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell. Another of the Signs.

As he let the sheet fall to the floor, something fell from it; he knelt to pick it up.

It was a simple human figure, stuffed with straw by the feel, of it. Cheaply made, and well-worn, but lovingly repaired.

A child's doll.

"No..." whispered Matthias. Perhaps... perhaps it was a keepsake from the woman's childhood?

Heart clenched in his chest, he lifted the lid from the simple wooden box beside the bed. Inside were clothes. Pulling a tunic from the box and unfolding it, he gauged its size. It was a child's.

His head dropped to his chest. The woman's home had been destroyed, and her child... her child had been Taken.

Clutching the doll tightly in his hand, he turned from the room and walked slowly through the door.

The Farmer's Wife #004

The early morning sun shone over the brothers as they walked along an overgrown dirt path. On either side, fallow fields stretched into the distance.

"Are you certain this is the way, Valdis?" asked Anat. "These fields have not been sown nor even cleared for a full season."

"It is hard to be certain, but I see no other place where it might be."

"I do not wish to waste the day chasing winds, Brother Valdis," interjected Thanos.

"It is near here, of that much I am sure."

Thanos nodded begrudgingly, and they continued on through the fields.

Matthias looked around. The place looked... wild. Even fields left fallow for a season were at least kept clear of overgrowth and debris, but these looked... abandoned. Weeds and scrawny bushes grew everywhere, and fallen fence posts lay here and there on the path.

As Matthias wondered about this, a farmhouse came into view in the distance. It looked scarcely better-kempt than the fields that surrounded it. As they drew closer, it became clearer that there was something wrong. The front door had been torn from its hinges and lay in two pieces on the ground outside. The wooden walls were gouged and splintered as though torn at by many claws.

Thanos looked askance at Valdis, who closed his eyes for a moment, and then nodded back in silence. Matthias saw the three's stances change; Valdis loosened the strap that bound his silvered mace to his side, and Thanos loosened his sword in its sheath. Even Anat made sure that his short apothecary's knife was loose in his belt. Whatever they had felt, it had come from this house.

Matthias found himself wishing that novices too had the right to bear the weapons of the Church.

They approached the house warily. There was a... feeling to the place. It seemed... alien. Matthias thought back to his first days as a novice, listening to the droning of the most senior of the Purgatori. Unease without cause. One of the Signs of Darkness. He looked around; he could not see a single animal around the house; not even flies. Another Sign. Ygn's darkness was heavy on this place.

As they approached the house, a woman stepped into the doorway. She was wearing a simple, rough dress, and her long brown hair was in disarray. Dirt was caked to her face, her arms, everywhere. The palm of her left hand was wrapped in a rough woolen bandage.

Anat and Thanos looked at Valdis, who nodded, and, gesturing for Matthias to follow him, approached the woman cautiously.

Some of Ygn's most powerful creatures could seem almost human, if they wished. If any of the group could detect such a facade, it would be the Purgator Valdis, or the Purgator-in-training Matthias. As they approached the woman, Matthias searched his mind for the lessons he had been taught, and scanned the woman for all the signs he could recall. Her eyes were clear and alive, though it looked as though she had been crying. She was pale, but not unnaturally so - odd for a farm girl or a farmer's wife, he thought, but not a sign of an illusion. The signs of aging on her face, though mild, were clear.

As they drew near, Valdis stood aside and nodded Matthias forward. He stepped to within arm's reach of the woman and bowed slightly towards her. She looked at him as though in shock. "Blessings of the Silver Crown to you, sister."

She hesitated; when she spoke, her voice was hoarse, cracked. "And-... and to you, Purgator."

She held out her hand, palm down, and he took it in his. It was not cold, as the flesh of an illusion should be. Looking her in the eye, he drew the Silver Blessing on the back of her hand with his thumb; she did not so much as flinch. She was human, or else too close for it to matter. He turned his head and nodded to Valdis, who returned it, and then, gesturing to the others, stepped forward.

"My lady, I am Brother Valdis, servant of the Silver Crown. We felt that you may be in need of our aid, and are come to offer it."

The woman looked around her slowly, and said hollowly, haltingly, "I am Anya. Wife of Regan. And... mother of Eugen his son."

Thanos and Anat had reached the three; now Thanos spoke, gesturing at the damage to the house. "What happened here?"

The woman spoke as if she had not heard him. "My husband is... tending the fields. He... will return at midday to eat."

"What field is your husband tending?"

She stared confusedly at Thanos. "I... beg your pardon?"

"All of the fields we have seen are unkempt and fallow. Which field is your husband attending to?"

The woman blinked a few times and looked around, confused, before looking back at Thanos. "I... I'm sorry, Justicar, I don't... understand what you mean. My husband is dead."

Thanos frowned, and looked across at Anat. The old man took the woman's hand gently, laid his hand on her forehead, and looked into her eyes. "Shock," he said after a moment. "She needs to rest."

Thanos nodded. Anat took the woman's hand, looked her eyes, and slowly and clearly said, "Anya, I am Brother Anat, a Beneficar. Will you come and sit down?"

She stared at him, blinking, and then slowly nodded. Gesturing to the others to follow, he led her inside.

Extra: The Gods of the Silver Crown

As with all Crowns, the gods of the Silver Crown are three.

The Father of the Silver Crown is Aranaus, Destroyer of Evil, Guardian of the Holy, The Silver Warrior, Shadow's Bane. It is he who acts to oppose the creatures and powers of darkness.

The Lady of the Silver Crown is Malana, The Just and Merciful, Judge of Men, Sword of Truth. Her domain is the unearthing and punishment of evil men, including those who conspire with the powers of darkness.

The Daughter of the Silver Crown is Aleia, the Innocent, Guardian of the Weak, Healer of Men, whose role is that of caring for those loyal to the Silver Crown, providing with nourishment, healing, and protection.

-    Ancil Melay

     "Crowned and Uncrowned Gods"

     (37 years before the Shattering)

The Farmer's Wife #003

She stood in the darkness, waiting, hardly daring to breathe. Nothing.

Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she could faintly see the outlines of the room. She looked around, slowly, and then, turning her eyes back to the markings on the floor, wondering in what way she had failed, she saw it. Hovering above the floor, a deeper darkness coiled and writhed.

Feed. The thought entered into her mind unbidden, and her hand rose unbidden over the twisting shadow. Blood dripped from her palm, black in the darkness, and the shadow convulsed violently with every drop. Then, as though breaking some hidden bond, it burst forth into tendrils of darkness.

All around the room the black threads spun, probing, searching, sensing. Where they brushed against her skin, she recoiled from the dealthy chill they left behind. Coiling into thicker and thicker strands, the icy tendrils wove together all around her until all she could see was a shifting curtain of nothingness.

With a shock that almost threw her to the floor, a presence came.

She felt it in the air around her, in her flesh, in her bones, in her heart. She felt it even in her mind, probing for weakness, searching for a way in. She steeled herself. It would not find one.

Harder and stronger the presence pressed against her soul, stabbing into her very being, ripping and tearing, trying to find a way in. She closed her eyes and screamed as images of her dying husband forced their way into her mind, as the screams of her taken son echoed in her ears, as the terror of a thousand agonising deaths crept into her heart.

No. For Eugen, she would stand. She held her son in the centre of her mind, cradled the thought as she had cradled him as an infant, and like darkness before a beacon, the assault was driven back. Out and out she forced the darkness, slowly reclaiming her mind. Her scream dwindled, her shaking limbs stilled, and then it was gone. She felt the presence all around her, even within her body, but no longer did it claw at her soul.

From the depths of the shadow around her, the presence spoke. Its voice echoed not in her ears, but in her mind.

Silly, mortal child. What foolishness drove you to summon one so much your greater? Do you not know what powers lie in the darkness?

"I know you well, child of Ygn. I-..."

The darkness closed in on her before should could even move, and she felt it pressing tightly around her, sucking the warmth from her body, forcing air from her lungs breath by breath. You dare to invoke the name of the Dark Mother? You are nothing, girl, a torn leaf presuming to direct the wind where it should be taken.

"I-... I offer-... a trade."

The darkness drew back somewhat; it still bound her tightly, but she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. What would you presume to ask of me?

"My... my son. His safe... return."

Hnnnnnnnnh. It was not a laugh, but she felt the shadow's derision and amusement. Pathetic sentiment. You are all of you trees in the wind, powerless to resist.

"Whatever you ask, I will give you."

What have you to offer me?

"My... my life, for his."

Hnnh. If I desired your pitiful life, I would take it.

"You cannot harm me." The book had promised as much; of this she was sure.

Can I not? A force to powerful to resist wrenched her still-bleeding hand up in front of her eyes, and tendrils of darkness extended into it, through it, into the flesh beneath. Searing cold pierced her flesh, and she screamed with the agony of it. Through tear-filled eyes she saw the flesh around the wound grow shrivelled and grey, and the blood within turn to black ichor that seeped slowly from the gash.

"Please! Please...!" she screamed. The presence gave what seemed to be a slow sigh of satisfaction; the tendrils withdrew and she could move her hand again. She clutched it to her chest; searing pain still radiated from the withered flesh. She gasped for breath against the pain.

Now that we are clear, child, what do you really have to offer me?

"I... Whatever you ask, anything you ask..."

Anything? She could hear the dark intent in the voice, but... Eugen. She had to.

"Anything."

Hnnnnnh. Then let us... negotiate.

The Farmer's Wife #002

The light of dawn had not even begun to touch the sky when Matthias woke. Three years of early morning prayers in the Temple had ingrained a habit he would not soon break.

He pulled off the rough sheets and crossed the inn's tiny room in a single step, to the washbasin in front of the shuttered window. He emptied the jug of icy water beside the basin into it. The innkeeper would bring hot water from the fire around dawn, but the Brothers would not approve if he were tardy to rise, and he was no stranger to washing in the cold.

He dipped the coarse washcloth into the water and ran it over his body until all of the night's sweat had been washed away. He splashed water over his face and his bare scalp, and then daubed himself slowly dry. He pulled on his bare, black cassock, slung his satchel over his shoulder and stepped out of the door.

Brother Thanos was already sitting at the table in the inn's small common room. The Justicar glared at Matthias as though affronted that he had woken merely before first light, and not at the toll of the third watch. Matthias winced internally as he bowed slightly before taking his seat at the table. "Blessings of the Silver Crown, Brother Thanos." In reply, he received a begrudging nod. Crowns and clans, thought Matthias, even the set of the man's silver-lined blue tunic looked disgruntled.

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever, Thanos' glare boring into him. Once, he tried to break the silence; "Where does the road lead today, Brother?"

"Yours is not to know the road, only to follow those who lead you down it."

That put an end to that.

After another eternity of silence, Matthias heard with relief the sound of voices in the inn's corridor. The door swung open, and Brother Anat and Brother Valdis entered, talking quietly to each other. Matthias rose quickly and bowed. "Blessings of the Silver Crown, Brother Anat. Blessings of the Silver Crown, Brother Valdis."

Anat smiled. "Good morning, Matthias." Valdis merely nodded politely. Valdis sat at the table, nodding his greeting to Thanos; Anat stepped over to a counter against the wall and drew four wooden bowls from a cupboard. He walked over to the fire and stirred the stewpot with a ladle. "You stoked the fire, Thanos?"

"Let us not endure cold stew along with all the other indignities of travelling unaccompanied."

"This is true," said Anat as he ladled stew into a bowl and placed it before Thanos. "Indignities endured for a worthy cause, I think."

Thanos only grunted.

Anat served stew for Valdis, then for Matthias, and then for himself. He spilt a drop on his dark green cassock, and Matthias smirked at Thanos' face as he saw him smear it off with his thumb.

They ate the warm, meaty stew slowly. None of them wanted to begin the day's long walk. "The innkeeper added meat last night," observed Valdis. He was right, and in the rapidly descending winter, fresh meat was a rare find. The man clearly wanted to make the visiting clergy happy.

Thanos looked like he was about to say something, but he stayed silent.

Suddenly, something changed. It felt like a rough stone grating across his skin. He froze, spoon raised halfway to his mouth.

He glanced at the others; they were looking at each other with concern in their eyes. They had felt it as well. Valdis closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath. "Ygn," he said quietly.

Anat stood and began gathering their bowls quickly. "Where?"

Valdis closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. "Her darkness lies heavy over these lands, it is hard to see. Northwest, I think." He looked questioningly at Thanos. "Do we go, Brother?"

For a moment, Thanos stared at the wall in thought. Then he stood quickly. "We go. There is enough darkness in these lands already, I will not stand by and allow it to grow further."

Valdis nodded and stood, adjusting the set of his satchel on his shoulder. Mattias did the same. Thanos was already at the inn's door, pulling it open and letting the cold air flood into the room.

"Brother Thanos," said Matthias deferentially. "The innkeeper...?"

"We are servants of the Silver Crown, novice. His payment is the safety of these lands."

"Yes, Brother." Matthias kept his gaze on the floor, and Thanos walked out of the door. Valdis followed behind him.

Matthias started to follow, but heard a noise behind him; the sound of metal on wood. He turned and saw Anat pulling closed his coin-purse; on the table behind him, gold glinted in the firelight. The old man winked at him and raised his finger briefly to his lips, then walked out into the darkness. Matthias followed, pulling the door closed behind him.

The Farmer's Wife #001

Darkness. The ragged edge of a curtain flapped in the frigid wind. Shutters clattered. Wind streamed in through the shattered windows, out through the broken door.

A child's bed, empty; the sheets in disarray. A woman, kneeling, sobbing, broken. Turning her head to the ceiling, she cried out, "Not him! Please, not him! Take me! Take me!"

Tears streaming down her face, she rose and ran through the doorway, oblivious to the splinters knifing into her feet. Out through the farmhouse she went, running blindly in the dark, stumbling over the chaotic mess of overturned furniture, and then over the threshold and into the bitter night. She looked around, but could see no trace of the fleeing shadows.

Turning to the sky, she cried out again, voice breaking with shock and grief. "I offer myself! Only leave my son and take me! Take me!" No reply came; no shadows brought her son back out of the depths of the night. Eugen was gone. Her son had been taken from her. She was alone.

She fell to her knees, and then to the ground, and wept in the cold light of the stars.

-----

When her sobbing stilled, the gibbous moon was setting; it was not long until dawn. She had hoped that the shadows would return for her and end her pain, carry her off into the endless darkness, but they had not come. She pushed herself upright on cold, stiff arms, then rose on cold, stiff legs, and walked slowly toward the farmhouse door.

Her son had been taken. She knew what she had to do.

Beneath a stone in the kitchen's floor was the chest. Her mother had spoken of it only once, as she lay dying. "Hide it. Keep it secret. No-one can know." She bloodied her fingers on the stone's edge before thinking to use the poker from the fire. With a little effort, the stone lifted, and she pulled the ancient chest from the crevice beneath. It was small, but it felt heavier than it should. Weighted down with darkness, her mother had said.

Her cold, bloodied fingers fumbled with the catch for almost a minute before it came open, and the chest's heavy lid swung open almost of its own accord. Perhaps it was a trick of the eye, but the inside of the chest seemed to soak up the flickering candle-light without itself being lit. In the corner of her eye, shadows flickered and danced, moving with what seemed like purpose, intent.

Inside the chest was the book. Its black leather chilled her fingers as she pulled it out; dust rose from the pages as she flicked it open. There, written in quavering script, were the Secrets.

She had opened the book once before, and had hardly read it for a minute when she threw it from her grasp, unable to stand the sight of the pages or the words upon them. Now, however, she grasped it tightly, turning the pages with purpose, searching, seeking. It was not long before she found what she sought.

The chest held other things, too, rare treasures gathered over centuries by the holders of the chest. She drew some of them out: chalk, black as midnight; fractured crystals that glowed weakly with eerie unlight; small flasks of powdered herbs that smelt of death; shrivelled things upon which she could not bear to think.

As many things as there were in the chest, not once did her hand draw out something she did not now require.

Book in hand, still ice-cold, she set to work. On the floor, she scratched out symbols that bent and twisted before the eye; here she sprinkled powder, recoiling at the smell; there, she placed a crystal, or some other unknowable thing. Finally, she set a fire and hung the kettle above it, casting into it all manner of horrible things from the depths of the chest, until there bubbled in the kettle a night-black liquid.

She took the kettle from the fire and placed it beside the markings on the floor, then fetched her sharpest knife. She dipped the knife into the kettle, and drew it out, and it too was black, as though more an emptiness than a thing. She held her hand out over the markings, closed her eyes, and pressed the knife into her palm. She hardly felt the sting in her cold-numbed hand, but when she opened her eyes, deep red blood dripped from her palm onto the floor, mingling with darkest black.

She spoke, her voice dark, hollow. "Shadow of Ygn, by blood and darkness you are commanded. Come forth, for I will treat with thee."

She watched a drop of blood fall from her palm, and as it splashed upon the floor, she said "Come forth!" Another drop, another command. "Come forth!" The third drop fell, and her body stiffened as she breathed the final words. "Come forth!"

With a sigh, the fire snuffed out, and darkness fell upon her.