Keeping Busy

Keeping Busy

The days were long. The nights were even longer.

Keyser lay deathly still in a coma. His wounds were healing, but his mind was someplace far away. Cassanndra could leave him for short periods now. She spent many days logging with her guards. Unfortunately, Galatea died valiantly, protecting her from an ent. She then hired a new guard named Saree, but she didn't last long, either. The ents were fearsome. Gretchen was the latest to come to her employ and she was an excellent warrior.

Logging kept Cassanndra busy, so she didn't have to think about Keyser, lying asleep in their room. Logging kept her busy so she wouldn't have to think about the end of the world possibly coming.

She worked from sunup until sundown. Her arms ached. Her armor needed repair. Her golem needed repair. Now it was time to stop and rest for awhile. She would look up some old friends, perhaps, and forget about her worries for awhile.


Working Too Hard Again

Cassanndra rubbed her aching lower back. She had been working in the fields every day for weeks.

"A fine lady I am," she thought. Her hands were raw from gathering flax. She had a huge pile of fiber to spin, and more work to do after the spinning was done.

A muffled cough came from upstairs, where Keyser still lay unconscious. There had been no change in his condition for weeks. Although the body had healed, the mind had not. She had cried enough tears. Healing was in the hands of the gods. She had almost given up praying.

Her fingers quickly fed the fibers onto the spinning wheel. As she listened to the swishing noise, her mind wandered. She gazed out the window, and the street shimmered in the sunlight. The scene changed from the street to a vista of snow-capped mountains. Her eyes blurred.

"I must be more tired than I thought," she said to herself. She wiped sweat off her face. The heat from the forge fire was oppressive in the workroom.

"Maybe I need a diversion." She decided to go hunting in the swamp. "Come on, Gretchen and Holly."

The two women followed Cassanndra out to the swamp. Bub, her golem, shuffled along, slow and steady. Slimes and a mongbat were quickly dispatched. She stopped by a tree, and began to chop some logs. She gazed up at the western wall surrounding the swamp. She had sold the Summer House. A tear slipped down her cheek as she remembered the good times spent there.

Just as quick, she brushed the tear away. They--no, she--had no need for the Summer House anymore. Upkeep on the main house was enough to deal with.

The guards laughed and joked while Cass conitnued chopping logs. Bub kept a close watch, keeping the slimes and rats away.

Then, suddenly, an ent sprang out from the nearby trees. The guards shot a flurry of arrows, striking the ent, and Bub attacked it, ferociously hitting it with his powerful fists. Cassanndra jumped into the fray, and she landed several decisive blows.

But she felt her strength failing, and the sharp branches of the ent cut into her fighting arm. A heavy blow caused her to fall off her horse, and she passed out.

Her guards, Bub, and her horse, Elsinore, continued to fight the ent. She saw the battle from somewhere above her body.

A white owl landed on a branch of the tree from which she had been chopping logs. She drifted over to it, and the owl spoke.

"You are called into service. This world is changing. The one you call Gaia is moving on."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You're dying. You saw the mountains. I showed them to you. Accept what is happening."

"Dying?" Cassanndra's spirit fluttered restlessly around the owl. "I can't be dying. I've much to do here... my husband is ill; I can't be dying." Her mind could not accept it.

"This land is fading. Your people will disappear. You must come to the land with the mountains. You must learn new ways."

"Where is this land? What ways?" Her spirit form fluttered ever more anxiously around the owl.

A raven landed on the branch.

"The land of Comraich," the raven croaked.

"Sister, tell her of the truth!" the owl demanded.

"Believe my sister owl. This world is passing on."

The human-looking eyes of the owl bored into Cassanndra. She saw the past, the present, and the future, all at once. She saw her future in the snowy mountainous land.

Her spirit flew among thatched cottages, fields of wheat, and a few large stone buildings. She saw herself; although she didn't look like herself, she knew it was herself. She wore a black cloak of raven feathers. She saw happy families gathered together for a great feast day. She saw herself raise her hands in blessing over the crowd.

"Great Yrsa, bless these people and these fields. Give us another bountiful year of plenty. As above, so below." She lowered her arms and a pulse of energy invigorated the crowd. People laughed and smiled, as they partook in the feast. The priestess took some of the food and walked toward the closest wheat field. A man followed her and the two of them continued to the field together.

She broke the bread and scattered it to the winds. "As above, so below," she said softly.

The man smiled at her. He had Keyser's eyes...

The spirit Cassanndra gasped and woke up. The ent was dead. Her compatriots were waiting for her to recover. She lit a fire and began to hack apart the ent, gathering its valuable resources. Waste not, want not, she thought.

And then she saw it--a cloak of black raven feathers.

She searched her memory, and realized she knew prayers, songs, lore, and rituals of a people she had never met.

She settled the black mantle on her shoulders and headed back toward the house. She had much to prepare. Time was growing short.

Upstairs, her beloved breathed weakly. She went up to check on him, fluffing the pillows, and tidying the blankets. Then she took the washbasin and began to gently wash his wasting body. She told him of her visions, and far off in the swamp, she heard the cry of the owl.