Lost

Lost

For months, Cassanndra nursed the comatose Keyser. She had spent many hours sewing clothing for the lords and ladies of the land, as well as harvesting the flax, cotton, and wool required for such work. She was exhausted. At first, the work was fun and even an adventure, but losing both Galatea and Saree made her think twice about the adventure part. The last time she and her guards went out, both Holly and Gretchen had been critically injured. She herself still felt twinges of pain from the injuries she had suffered in the ratmen's vicious attack.

Then the rains came. She was sewing by the upstairs window, listening to the rain tapping on the roof. There was no sound from the sickroom. It was no ordinary rain, however. Looking out the window, Cassanndra noticed a headless corpse walking the street so she put down the sewing and ran outside, dispatching the beast quickly. Then she saw the water rising from the docks. Could it be a flood? She pulled on her cloak and ran across to Mynoc proper.

She was up to her knees in water! Hurriedly, she went back to her home, at a loss for what to do. She heard the calls for sandbaggers, but she was trapped, with a sick man to take care of. "I'll just wait it out," she decided.

Cassanndra took up her sewing basket, and made some half-hearted stitches in a sash she was embroidering. Every so often, she gazed out the window, craning her neck to see if the water was flooding their street. At last, the rain stopped, and the floodwaters receded. She went to Mynoc to see the aftermath. Debris and mud littered the street. The stench of decay was overwhelming. She saw the shopkeepers cleaning out their shops, and nodded to them. They looked as helpless as she felt.

A few days later, Cassanndra was sleeping when the locust plagues destroyed the farms. She woke to find the angry insects buzzing around in the swamp. After quickly dressing herself, she ran to Mynoc and listened to the town crier's announcements.

"The farms, destroyed?" She felt her knees go weak. Luckily, she had some food canned and dried, so she would not starve—not yet. Keyser required very little to eat, anyway. They would be okay for now.

As she stood thinking, the crier announced that some supplies needed to be unloaded at the castle, so she went to help. Two strangers were leading packhorses laden with goods. "Traders?" she wondered to herself. Then she saw the golden man, Athlendyr, the god from another world.

Sighing in relief, she helped Parchaa, Sevh'ia, and Isen unload the food. The two strangers were named John and Sara. Athlendyr called them his children. After a long while, the food was stored, and the group dispersed. Right before her very eyes, Cassanndra watched as Athlendyr touched John and Sara, and they disappeared, along with the packhorses they had brought.

She bid the others good day and wandered homeward. The floods and plagues were the last straw. The world was dying—wasn't it obvious? She had been cast out of her home village once, and now it seemed she would be cast out again, or else not survive.

She sat at the table, her head in her hands. The guards noticed her sad mood, and they quietly chit-chatted in the corner.

Cassanndra had heard of a statue that had appeared in Aman'ualie, a statue of the goddess of the other world, the one who had sent her the dream. She would go there and ask for guidance. She explained to the guards about her decision to make a pilgrimage, and what they would need to do to take care of Keyser in her absence.

Her bag lay ready on the table. She went into the sickroom one last time. Brushing a stray hair from his face, she gazed upon her beloved.

"My dear, I have no idea when I shall return. I go on a quest for answers. Holly will take good care of you." She laughed a little bit. "Holly always did have a thing for you."

Wiping a tear, she left the room, grabbed her bag, and set out on the long journey to Aman'ualie.


It was a long and arduous sea journey to Aman'ualie, but at last Cassanndra disembarked from the boat. Wobbling a little as she regained her land-legs, she walked through the town, admiring its architecture.

It was bitterly cold and she drew her cloak about her for warmth. Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she made her way out of the village, on a road that led into the mountains.

As she walked about a mile out of town, she saw it: the statue of the Goddess Yrsa. Running the last few steps, she threw herself at its feet, asking for guidance.

Minutes passed, and Cassanndra felt nothing at first, but then, in her mind, she saw images of a different life than the one she had now: she saw a large, happy family with many brothers and sisters. It was as if she was one of them...

But she did not see her beloved in the happy family setting. What could that mean?

The end was truly coming--it was only a matter of time.

Coming out of the trance, she stood up and set her offering in the box near the statue. "Yrsa be with us all," she prayed. A cold wind swept down the mountain, and the sky was growing dark.

"I'd better hurry back," Cassanndra thought to herself. She walked slowly toward Aman, in spite of the fast-moving twilight. Making her way through the deserted streets, she booked passage on a ship returning to Mynoc.

As the boat left port, she thought about the strange vision she had been allowed to witness. "We will survive this," she thought.

After a seemingly unending voyage, she arrived at the Mynoc docks. She knew what she had to do.

"Holly, you and Gretchen shall receive your pay, but then I fear I am letting you go. I, I mean we, no longer have need of your services. Go home to your families." She paid the guards well, and after a short goodbye with tears on all sides, the two women left the spacious house they'd called home for almost a year.

Cassanndra climbed the stairs and looked in on her beloved. There was little change. His wounds were healing--had healed--but the angry red scar bore silent witness: he may never come out of his coma.

She packed up many of their belongings and donated them to the poor, as well as selling others. She remembered Akercocke's promise of making her a new golem and smiled slightly, thinking of how she would no longer need his services.

Later, after all the work was finished, she waited near her beloved's bedside, holding his hand gently.

Whatever happened, she would stay with him until the very end....

"I'll never let you go," she whispered in the darkness.