The Flow’s Choice Chapter 7 – Into the Court of Thorns

“This is a runeforged blade; where did you get it?” said Petal as she gestured to Ichika’s giant green and gold shuriken.

“A what?” Ichika asked clearly. She was so exhausted, and the older woman had just come and spoken at her too fast for her to take it in.

“This weapon, where did you get it?” Petal asked again.

“I made it? I guess. There was some earth magic, and then…” Ichika was having a hard time putting her thoughts into words. Why was she being asked about it now? She just wanted to sleep. Her mind drifted to home, to her last conversation, joking with Mika as they walked back from the dojo. She felt a pang of loss; she missed her friend and her village. She could still remember the smell of the forest, of loam and pine and falling asleep every night to the sound of the river.

Petal was still talking to her, an angry expression on her face that turned into concern. Ichika barely registered her words; she was thinking of home. Her family’s faces but not as they had been in death but as they had been during the many happy moments before. Her father showed her and her brothers how to fish. They had gotten up late because Ichika had refused to leave bed at dawn when they were first woken up. Then, they sat on the dock in the village. No fish had bitten on their lines that first day, but it had been okay. Their father had told bad jokes and kept them in good spirits despite the failure. Later, she realised he had known they wouldn’t catch any fish; they had gotten up too late, and dawn was the best time for fishing in the river. A few weeks later, they tried again at dawn and caught plenty of fish.

Petal was shaking her lightly now, but she couldn’t focus. Then she was beckoning the bear over, or was he a giant man again now? A bear-like man, or a man-like bear. Ichika couldn’t tell.

He came over and put his hand on her forehead. It felt cool to the touch.

Then she saw a flash of green light, and her brain snapped back into focus.

“Can you hear me?” came the deep, rumbling voice from the man kneeling over her.

Ichika spoke, but it came out in a whisper, “Yes”. She tried to sit up, but his big hand on her shoulder held her back down.

“I’m Granathe, a druid. You’re very sick. We think there was poison on the wolf claws. We need to take you somewhere to treat you. This won’t be pleasant, but you need to hold on.”

It was all Ichika could do to nod. She could feel it now; the brain fog had faded, and she could feel the burning lines on her skin from the infected claw wounds. How had she missed that before?

With that, he stepped back and shifted, and the man disappeared as his flesh sprouted hair. And soon, a giant bear was standing on all fours in front of Ichika.

Then Petal and Marcus, the shield-wielding soldier, helped lift Ichika onto Granathe’s back. The bear’s fur wasn’t rough or soft, but she winced as the pressure shifted and stretched her cuts.

“Easy does it,” said Marcus, “She’s been through a rough time”. Granathe just growled in agreement.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s get moving!” said Ichika through gritted teeth. It hurt, but there was no point standing around with her dying from the poison in her blood because they worried about her discomfort.

“You heard her,” came the terse orders from Petal, “The sooner we move, the better chance she has.”

And with that, the bear and the rest started to move.

She could feel the bear underneath her, not running a full sprint but matching the horses at a quick trot. She had seen bears before and knew they were sprinting animals but not built for long distances, but there was some magic imbuing this Druid. She saw familiar green runes glowing across his fur as he ran. Clearly, the magic was boosting his stamina and endurance.

They ran for what felt like hours, even at the pace set to not jostle her too much. They were not on a clear path or a road, and every dip or log that had to be jumped over caused her scratch marks to burn. She couldn’t sleep; she had to hold on to avoid slipping off, but eventually, the rhythm and the pain reduced her to a trance-like state. Hold on, ignore the pain, hold on, ignore the pain, you aren’t dying, you aren’t dead, hold on.

They paused only once, and Marcus lifted her from the Druid’s back. Then, he changed back into human form and cast a healing spell on her again. She didn’t hear the words he said to Petal, but she saw him mumble something, and then she was hoisted back onto the bear. This time, though, she felt some rope wrapping around her, tying her on, which was good because she was getting so tired. This time, she could fall asleep, and she did, despite the jarring sensations.

They stopped what seemed like hours later, and she woke up briefly. She saw a line of trees with an arch and a giant door built into it. Two women in similar armour to Petal’s stood at the door. She saw Petal walking over to them and what looked like an argument, but then she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.

She woke up again as she was lifted off the back of the bear and propped up against something hard and stone. She couldn’t open her eyes, though. She was so tired. Then she felt water on her lips but didn’t want to drink. Why wouldn’t they let her sleep? Then, a hand forced her mouth open roughly, and she got slightly angry. That had hurt, and then water was being poured into her mouth, and she had to choose between swallowing it or choking. She was mad but couldn’t do anything right now, so she drank the water.

A wave of fire started to burn across her, starting in her belly, and she screamed as lines of fire raced across her cuts. She felt like her skin was burning and turning to ash. It hurt so much; she could only wonder what they had poisoned her with before the pain gave way to blackness, and she passed out.

She was standing then, outside her old family home. It looked as it had the night of the massacre, the green bed sheets drying on the washing line in the garden, the chair on the porch sitting with a blanket folded on it, the drying rack of onions they had strung up only the day before.

She was shaking as she went to the door, knowing what she would see inside. Her hand moved and grasped the door unsteadily, but her family weren’t dead on the floor when she opened it. In fact, they were waiting for her. Her siblings were helping her mother prepare dinner, and her mother and father rushed over when they saw it was her looking concerned.

“Oh, you’re back early from training. Is everything okay?” asked her mother. Ichika didn’t answer. She was still shocked. She could hear chopping sounds and her little sister, Koya, singing a silly song in the kitchen.

“Oh, the carrot goes crunch, the pea goes squish, the tomato goes squish squish”.

Ichika realised she was crying, and her parents looked at her worriedly.

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t know what to say. Was the forest a dream? Had she hit her head at training? How had she gotten back here? Had some magic sent her back in time? That last thought snapped her back to reality. What if she had been sent back in time? What if this was her chance to save them?

“We have to go. Some attackers are coming to the village. They will be here soon.”

“What? Are you sure?” Her father asked, but they both heard a sound from outside as their dog started barking but then went silent.

Her father was already moving for his own weapon, but he hurried now. He was not a warrior, preferring to keep his farm, but everyone in this village had trained to some extent. So he had a giant hammer he kept for fighting, but that had seen more fence posts than enemies.

Her mother also heard the words and started to respond. She gathered Ichika’s three siblings from the living and cooking areas and brought them to the centre of the room. Ichika also saw her grabbing her sharpest knives from the kitchen and giving one to her oldest sibling. She was 13 but tall enough and stood close to their younger siblings.

Ichika had her own weapons with her. She looked around for a giant green and gold shuriken she could have sworn she owned before, remembering that it was part of the forest and maybe not even real. She pulled out her regular shuriken and short sword, taking a position behind her father.

The door broke down, and the black-clothed warriors she remembered from that day came in through the door. They were all holding swords that were already red with blood. She couldn’t see how many were outside the door, but ten had already come inside.

She caught two in the face with her shuriken, dodged a swing from a third, and stabbed them back in the belly with her sword.

She saw her father dispatch a man with a blow to the head and block a sword swing from a second, but they were outnumbered. She cried out when she saw him fall, stabbed from behind by another fighter he hadn’t been able to turn to block in time.

She began fighting towards him, but it was too late, and she saw the killing blow to the neck. Her mother and sisters screamed, and then she saw her mother stabbing with that knife as she fought her way past another two fighters. More were coming in the door, though.

She felt herself stabbed in the back but slid off the blade as she moved forward to stand beside her mother.

It didn’t matter. A fresh set of fighters came at the two of them, and they were overwhelmed. As she felt the swords pierce her body and the world grow dark, she considered maybe she was lucky to die before her sisters. She had already seen that once before.

She woke again, uninjured and standing where she had been a minute ago, outside her house, a moment before it was attacked. This time, she wasted no time. She ran into the house, warning them, and began setting up an ambush.

This time, she caught more in the ambush before they overwhelmed her, and as she thought she had succeeded, she heard the screams of her parents in the distance and knew they had been caught as well.

She repeatedly played through this scenario, every time trying a new tactic. Running further away, hiding better, fighting harder, setting the dog loose to attack them, but there were too many. At least 25 fighters had come for them, but she didn’t know why they had sent so many. Maybe they were just being thorough or needed to know what sort of fighters might live in each house.

She kept trying, and sometimes, she saved one of her family. Her smallest sister hid away in a small space in the attic before Ichika died again, and everything reset.

That gave her a bit of hope. Maybe one of her family had survived the attack, but she was sure this was a dream she had in that one night she had to sleep since the attack, but not this vivid. Still, she knew she would eventually wake up if she kept fighting.

After the 15th try, she tried a new tactic: sending her family to hide a tree near the house and making the noisiest distraction she could by setting fire to the house.

The enemy rushed in, ignored the spreading fire, and came for her, and as she sat there surrounded by foes and flames, she collapsed to the floor. Nothing would work. That was it.

She came around again, standing at the entrance to the path to her house, and fell to the ground. Nothing she was trying to do would help. Could that be the point? If this dream wanted to teach her anything, maybe that was the lesson.

Since the attack, she had repeatedly thought she could have saved them all if she had just been there. But could she? How many people had attacked her family, and how outnumbered would they have been? Maybe even if she had been there, she couldn’t have done anything. Perhaps it wasn’t her fault?

She sat on the ground, tears streaming down her face, and said that to herself. It wasn’t her fault. Even if she had been there, she might have just died as well. She couldn’t have saved them.

And then she woke up, properly woke up. She was lying in a bed with soft sheets and felt stiff and slightly sore when she tried to move. Despite the stiffness in her body, her mind felt lighter than it had been for the last few days. She still wanted to be at home, to find out if her little sister had survived, and to find out who had attacked them. She still felt the anger and the desire to find and hunt them down, but something had changed. She didn’t feel the guilt that had been tormenting her since she had seen her family dead. She still wished she had been there to help, but the certainty that her being there would have saved them was gone. Who knows if she would have succeeded if she had been there? She might just have died as well.

She sat up slowly and saw the Druid, Granathe, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, reading from a book. It was funny as he had small reading glasses on his giant face, but he was so focused on his book that he didn’t notice she had woken up. He was definitely a man, but she could see the elements that showed why he chose to turn into a bear. He had a large beard, big hands, and rough-styled hair.

She coughed lightly, and he looked briefly startled before relaxed.

“Oh good, you are awake. Are you feeling okay?” Granathe sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’m okay, my body is still stiff, but I can’t feel any pain.”

“No, you wouldn’t, not with the healing magic we used, and tell me, did you have any strange dreams?”

How did he know? She paused but then shook her head. She didn’t know this man, she didn’t want to tell him. He gave her a very knowing look and then nodded.

“Don’t worry, I won’t pry, but as I said, we had to use powerful healing magic due to the poison. That magic doesn’t discriminate and is just as capable of healing mental pain as physical. So, whatever you experienced, know that it was helping you process your pain, but it might not have been the right way to process it. Normally, people take more time, and naturally, working through things is better.”

So that explained it; that damned spell they had used to heal her from the poison had forced her through what had felt like hours of torture.

She started to get angry, but he silenced her with a look, “I know it must be frustrating, but you were dying. This was the only option, and so you know, that magic can’t be used that often, so using it on you may mean someone else who needs healing might not get it. So before you get angry, consider that. You’ll meet some people who will not be happy that you had it used on you, probably very soon.”

“Oh…” was all she could think to say. So the Druid had invoked some powerful healing magic to save her life, but now it wouldn’t be available for a while. She was grateful, but those dreams were a steep price to pay.

Her stomach interrupted them from more introspection with a loud grumble, and Granathe looked abashed. “How could I have forgotten? I am so sorry. You must be starving! Can you get up?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Good, there are clothes, and I’ll be just outside”. Granathe nodded at her, and then turned around before she could get up.

“Wait,” she called out, and he paused.

“Thank you. I know it must have been hard running all this way. So thank you for saving me. Maybe I was in pain before, but I don’t want to die.” Then she began to explain, slowly at first, and the words wouldn’t stop. Granathe came and sat on the edge of her bed. As she sat up, words poured out of her, but no tears. She didn’t feel sad anymore; she was just angry.

She saw his face start off concerned and then darken, more of the bear inside him coming out as she spoke about finding her family.

“And you have no reason why these people might have attacked?” he said, his voice quiet with rage on her behalf.

“None at all. We didn’t have enemies, just friendly rivalries, and none of them would have done this.

“An unprompted attack with such a horrific goal is unthinkable.” He seemed like he might continue, but then he took a breath and nodded.

“It makes sense now. I said the waters could heal physical and mental pain, and now they have done that. Normally, people are forced to deal with small issues or grievances they thought long resolved, but to encounter grief so fresh…” He shook his head somberly. “I am sorry. Although it might have ‘healed’ you of your grief, it would have been better if you had more time to process it.”

Ichika thought she understood what the Druid was saying. The magic had seen her sadness as a wound to be closed, and it had forced her to confront it. For better or worse, it had ‘healed’ her grief. However, it had left her feeling empty. Her recent tragedy still felt unresolved, even if the sadness was gone.

“It definitely feels strange. I am no longer sad, but neither am I okay with it. Still, I can’t be upset; it’s like the magic won’t let me. What does that leave?”

“Forward momentum!” said Granathe, and suddenly, he stood up again and walked towards the door.

“When we cannot be as we are, we must see what happens if we move forward. That has always been a druidic teaching.”

Ichika was still confused about her location and feelings, but she felt the ring of truth in the Druid’s words. If she wasn’t injured by her grief or the poisoned claws, the only thing to do was see what came next and try to get home.

She got out of bed and inspected herself in the mirror before she got dressed. She had no signs or marks of injury on her at all. Moreover, she healed some scars that were years old. She had lost the nick on her left thumb from when a fishing hook had caught on it, and the line across her left ear from when a bad dodge in a sparring match had left her bleeding.

She also felt firmer than she had before. She had felt herself getting thinner after her time in the forest, always being on the move with only travelling rations. Did the magic think hunger was an illness as well? It was like it had restored her to where she had been a month ago, before this attack, before any damage, when she was well-fed and in good condition.

Then she paused, did some quick mental calculations, and gently squeezed her left boob. It wasn’t sore and should be if she was right in her timekeeping. She grimaced, knowing how powerful this magic had been. It had probably reset her cycle as well. Small mercies! At least she wouldn’t have to deal with that while a guest in this strange place! She had some pads in her supplies but would have needed more.

That thinking done, she moved on to the clothes they had laid out for her. She must have been sick for as long as Granathe had said because they had the time to make clothes just for her. She had been wearing her green and gold Yukata over her green training Yoroi on her way back from the dojo, but both had primarily been ruined by the fighting since then.

Still, someone had found the time to cut away the ruined sleeves and long flow of the Yukata but salvage the core Gold leaf on forest green mon of her dojo and some other linen material and stitch it into a new light jacket. That also came with her Yoroi, which they had opted to patch rather than start fresh, but the patches looked solid, and they had saved what she thought was unsavable.

They had even repaired the golden belt that closed the Yukata, which had been severed in half in the last fight. She hadn’t realised in her delirium, but either Petal or Marcus must have picked it up and brought it with them. She must thank them when she sees them again.

Her backpack and supplies were there, too. Her daggers, shuriken, and giant shuriken were the only things missing. That clearly said, “You are a guest but still a stranger”. She wondered if Granathe had been a healer or a guard, but why not both?

Still, she put everything on and slung her backpack on. They had been reasonable, so she was sure she would get her other things back soon. Then she remembered how interested Petal had been in her new giant shuriken. What had she called it? Rune forged? What on Rathe did that mean?

Well, the only place with answers was outside. Could she ask Granathe for an explanation?

She went to open the door and began to speak when she realised that Granathe was no longer alone. Marcus, the shield-wielding fighter from the day before, had joined him.

He still had his shield strapped to his back, but much like Granathe and his staff, she doubted he would go anywhere without it.

They stopped talking when she came out, and Marcus stuck out his arm, which Ichika took and found her hand encompassed by a robust, calloused grip that spoke of years of hard fighting.

“Granathe said you were better. Great to see you up!” His voice was a bit higher pitched than she had thought, but maybe that was in contrast to Granathe’s, which was so deep.

He didn’t let her reply but just continued.

“Well, as I was telling Granny here, I’m under orders to bring you before the queen as soon as you are able.”

Granathe interjected, “And I told you that being healed and ready to meet royalty are not the same thing!”

Marcus looked slightly abashed but then gave Ichika a glance.

“She looks fine enough, and the Queen is getting impatient. We haven’t had anyone spend that long in bed after the waters. She thinks you’re lying about how the girl is doing…”

“I was not!” came the growl/shout from the Druid.

Marcus threw up his hands. “I know, I know Granny. You aren’t the lying sort, but it has been quite a while.” And then he turned to look at Ichika.

“What do you reckon? Are you up for it? If you need more time, I can cover for you a bit more, but…” He glanced at Granathe, who sighed and said, “But she is not always the most patient.”

Ichika did not want to see either of them in trouble, so she nodded and said, “It will be fine. I can go.” Yet just as she did, her stomach rumbled so loudly it made all three of them pause, and Marcus burst out laughing.

“Okay, well, that settles that debate,” said Marcus. “Granny, you take her to eat something, then bring her to the Queen. I’ll tell her to expect you later.” Granathe nodded, and Marcus left.

Soon, they were walking down the corridor side by side. The walls were stone, but there were windows, and Ichika could see trees and leaves as they passed. She didn’t stop as she was aware of the time pressure but understood that it was in the deep forest, wherever they were.

They quickly came to a room that looked like a small dining hall. It had a few long tables for people to sit at.

It was not unoccupied, but Granathe steered her away from the people already in the room. There were about 4-5 soldiers, like Petal and Marcus, in a mix of leather and metal armour. Ichika guessed this must be a mess room where the soldiers came for food.

Granathe went over to a wall and returned with a small board with some bread, butter, a jar of honey and a small plate of sliced meats. Then he quickly grabbed two plates and some knives.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but this should do. I, for one, always take advantage of every chance to get more food before seeing the Queen.”

“What is she like?” Ichika asked as she grabbed a slice of bread and generously put honey on it. The honey was delightfully sweet, and she realised this must have been the first thing she had eaten in days.

“Well, she is the Guardian of Candlehold, and she is both a fair ruler and a stalwart defender of her people. Those two facts can be conflicting at times. That is where you are, by the way, the forest Kingdom of Candlehold.”

“And that’s in Aria, right?” Ichika asked.

“Well, of course, but of course you knew that…” Granathe fell short as Ichika shook her head.

“What do you mean you didn’t know? Magic, spirited away to another land, where else could you be?”

Ichika shrugged, “somewhere, some weird mage decided to dump me, some random forest, who knows? I did briefly think it might be Aria, but there was no great tree, and all the stories about Aria and the big tree are pretty clear. Then there was the whole running and fighting for my life. I didn’t have much chance to think after that.”

Granathe nodded, and Ichika saw the scholar in him shining out through his eyes. “Well, you see, that is a common misconception. While many travellers to Aria are brought to Aria and land at the tree, this is, in fact, not the case. Some people enter by land, and others are brought here and can end up in any part of Aria, not just the great forest and not just by the great tree.”

“Wait, there’s a land entrance? People can just come here?” Ichika sounded shocked.

“Yes, though it was not always possible, some passageways have opened from the world of Rathe into Aria at the edges of the land in recent years. They are mostly up at the mountain passes in the realm of Isenloft, but there have been one or two sea routes opened as well. We have had traders enter this land for the first time since records began, and I even heard of a pirate ship that tried to make its way into Everglow Bay only a month ago! Can you imagine pirates in Aria?”

His shock didn’t resonate with Ichika; she didn’t understand how a place could be cut off like that, so the change didn’t surprise her as much. It did mean a critical thing for her, though. If there were ways in, there was a way out. She could go to this Isenloft place and find a way home!

Granathe seemed to read her thoughts, “Yes, you can go home, though I must warn you, it is not a short journey from here to Isenloft, and the road is full of perils. The land is unforgiving, with deep snows and harsh blizzards to face to reach the other side. As I said, even when the passageways opened, I was shocked to hear merchants braved the journey, but they must have heard the call of opportunity!”

Ichika held up her hand to make him pause.

“So, how did I get here?”

“Ah, The Flow brought you. It does that. It finds people desperately needing a change and offers them a second chance.”

“That’s what our folk stories say, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to fight.”

“Folk stories?” the Druid sounded surprised but then nodded. “That makes sense. If we were sealed away, we would just become folk stories. Look,” and his voice grew softer, “I won’t try to convince you that your heart wanted to leave or any of that nonsense, but I’ll say this. I have met quite a few people taken by The Flow in my time, and not one has failed to flourish in the second chance they were given in Aria.”

He was right, though. Part of her had wanted to leave. Part of her had wanted to not be in that situation and to leave the burden of grief and revenge behind. Even now, part of her didn’t want to go home. This new land offered her freedom from pain and hardship. Why did she have to go back? Then she remembered Koya and her silly vegetable-cutting song. Koya is the only member of her family that might have survived. She had to know. She had to find out.

If, on that journey, she found her way through identifying the attackers against her village, understanding why they had come, and killing them all. Then that was just a bonus.

She realised she was gripping her knife firmly, and her white-knuckled hands were shaking. Granathe had continued talking, something about a carnival. She had stopped listening at some point. His voice trailed off as he saw her hand and the expression on her face.

“Ah,” he said and thought for a moment. “Look, this is going to be hard for you. Usually, your anger would be tempered by your grief in a situation like this, but your grief is gone, and your mind is trying to fill the hole it left. It will pass, but it will be difficult.”

Ichika took a breath, let go of the knife and then nodded. She ate the bread with honey, ate some meat, and sat silently for a moment.

Ichika was finally feeling full and was trying to figure out the best way to ask Granathe about her weapon when they were both interrupted.

One of the soldiers, a tall, thin, pale man in brown leather armour, had stood up and walked over to them.

He stood over their table and leered down at them. Granathe was the first to speak. “Go away, Trenth.” His voice did not have its usual friendly tone at all.

“Away? I only just came over here.” Trenth spoke in a nasal voice that was too high-pitched to sound pleasant.

“I just wanted to see what the fuss was about. I wanted to see what random waif Petal had deemed worth of the waters of Fensalir.”

Ichika gasped as she heard the name. Even outside Aria, there were folk tales of the mystical fountain of youth that could heal any wound, even age. Is that what had healed her?

Her shock pleased Trenth, “Good, well, at least she knows the name enough to be impressed. Come on then, stranger,” and he put a nasty lean on the word, “What have you done that means your life is worth more than that of my brothers and sisters?” He gestured behind him to the other soldiers, who had decided to stay seated but were all watching her. “It can only be used twice a year, twice! We already used it in spring to save the life of our Blade Master after he fought a demented Vitr’eo that was threatening this year’s novices. It was a giant one, too, with huge crystals for horns and giant tusks. Will you tell me that you are equal to a blade master of Thorns who has trained hundreds of Novices to fight?” Trenth was getting quite agitated, and she heard some murmurs of agreement from his friends across the room.

“I…” Ichika couldn’t find the words. Now she knew the price that had been paid and that she had been given the waters of Fensalir. She didn’t believe she had been worthy of it at all. She was no master of her school or warrior of legend. She was just a long way from home. She steeled herself to say something, but Granathe beat her to it.

“Who is she? Yes, she is a stranger but also a Guardian.” That word must have more meaning here than it did back home, as it made Trenth take a step back.

Granathe continued, standing now to be heard clearly across the room. “Who but a Guardian of Aria would stand side by side with a Fianna herd and a Na’shari den against an entire pack of blighted Faunawolves?” Ichika recognised the term Na’shari as the word Petal had used for the giant crystalhide lizards from the cave. Since Granathe had said ‘the herd’, Fianna must be the proper name for the runedeer, and she must have guessed right on the faunawolf name.

“Only in this world for a day, seized from amidst a tremendous personal tragedy of her own, as are all who The Flow brings, and without hesitation, she allies with the noblest creatures in the forest to fight off an entire pack of necromancer corrupted wolves?” Granathe’s voice rose to the point where he almost shouted.

“She was almost winning too! When we arrived, she was poisoned. The Fianna and Na’shari were poisoned, but they were still fighting! Even at death’s door, they would not stop. And you are telling me this woman, who summoned a runeforged weapon by the strength of her spirit alone, that she is not worthy?” Granathe paused to breathe for a second as Trenth looked at a loss for words, and then the Druid asked, his voice again taking on his softer, more instructional tone.

“And there is one more reason? Do you know what that is, young Trenth?”

All the other man could do was shake his head.

“BECAUSE YOUR QUEEN COMMANDED IT!” Granathe roared at the top of his lungs. Ichika could see a bit of the bear inside him come out then and swore that his face sprouted hair and his teeth grew a little as he yelled. Then the moment passed, and he was back to the friendly hirsute man that he had been a moment before.

Trenth had fallen back onto the chair behind him in shock at the volume and ferocity Granathe had displayed. He looked stunned. However, Ichika heard him muttering about how he was sorry and hadn’t known as his friends came and gathered him.

Ichika’s mind was racing with questions as they stood up, but Granathe silenced her and spoke. “I must apologise for that outburst. Sometimes, idiocy gets the better of my temper. And I fear I must apologise again, as I said some things that I’m sure you are dying to know, but they will have to wait for your meeting with the Queen. I’m sure she will explain everything.”

They left the guard’s mess room and headed down a staircase and through a circular courtyard. An ornate fountain surrounded by ancient trees was at the centre of the yard, whose stone roof gave way to a giant canopy stretching high into the sky. The tree trunks and boughs were like giant serpents wrapping themselves around the fountain, so you could only see what it was through tiny gaps in the wood wall. One break in the trunks would allow one person to approach the fountain, and two guards stood outside that entrance.

Ichika didn’t pause, but she did turn to Granathe. “Wait, is that?” Granathe just nodded and said, “Yes, that is is, Fensalir, the eternal wellspring of youth, the heart of the great forest. It is what this entire fortress was built to protect. Though…” and he seemed sad, “Maybe at one point it was an ‘eternal spring’ but now it only gives a few drops a day, and those drops are not enough to do more than heal a few people a year. That is why Trenth was so worked up. We store the water for the bleakest of emergencies, but the guards take great comfort in knowing a cup awaits them if they get seriously injured. This is the first time we have not had one cup set aside for an emergency in almost a decade. You can see why that would worry them?”

Ichika nodded, “If I had known…” but that made Granathe laugh. “You were delirious. Even if we had told you, you wouldn’t have understood. No, girl, the decision was made. That does not rest with you but with The Queen for good or ill. Only idiots,” he added, “and frightened young men will blame you for that.”

They had walked around the edge of the courtyard now and stood before two giant wooden doors.

“Speaking of The Queen, here we are. Before you meet her, you must remember three rules: for all our sakes but mostly yours. Firstly, bargains struck with our Queen are governed by powerful magic. Agree and promise nothing you do not intend to try to achieve with all your might. Failure is acceptable, but betrayal is not. Secondly, do not lie. She will know. You don’t have to speak every secret you know, but when you speak, speak true. And thirdly, all gifts given here have a price, and you have already been given a mighty one. She might ask a boon in return for the waters of Fensalir. You did not choose it, so you are not bound to offer something in return. But remember, she is a Queen and commands the respect of all of Aria. You want her on your side.”

All that washed over Ichika, but she had been expecting some formality before meeting a Queen. However, she was a bit suspicious of the magical elements of this meeting. Would the Queen know if she lied?

“Got all of that?” She just nodded at him.

“Okay then, lastly, how do we introduce you?” Ichika looked confused. “What do you mean?” she replied. Granathe rolled his eyes slightly like it was the most obvious thing, and she should know.

“This is a court, the Court of Candlehold. The seat of the Queen of Thorns has some formality, even if most of us are soldiers. What is your full name, or where are you from? Do you have any titles?”

Ichika blushed a little at how obvious it was and then told him. Granathe nodded and then turned and threw the giant doors open.

Ichika stepped into a room filled with light. Although the walls in the corridors she had been walking through were stone, these doors opened into a forest clearing. In the background, a wall of tree trunks and branches – similar to the ones around the fountain – surrounded this area, sealing it off from the rest of the forest. It was still part of the forest, though; wildflowers, mushrooms and plants sprung up from every bit of the clearing that was not trodden down. It was easy to see that people carefully kept to specific paths to avoid trampling the plants.

Light shone down from gaps in the canopy overhead and landed on rows of chairs and a clear pathway leading up to a dais at the end of the room. There were guards around and others dressed in finer clothes; only a few, but 20-30 people filled this space.

On the dias, though, there was one giant throne. It was made up of twisted branches reaching for the ceiling, and it had small pale lanterns hanging off it, though they weren’t lit now. Two guards dressed just like Petal had been, wielding spears hafted with green and gold metal similar to Petal’s sword, were standing to attention beside the throne. The entire dias around the throne itself was covered in flowers and plants.

On the throne, sitting resplendent in a gown of sewn leaves and twisted branches, wearing shoes woven from saplings, sat Griselda, the Queen of Thorns. Her skin was a mottled white, and her hair was green like the first grass of spring.

She was resting her left hand on the hilt of a sword slotted into the throne itself. The sword radiated with a magical blue glow despite the brightness of the day. Ichika could have stared at this wondrous sight even longer, but as her eyes took in the crown made from giant antlers on the Queen’s head, she realised the Queen, and the entire room, was now staring straight at her.

Granathe spoke then, “My Queen and honoured guests of the Court of Thorns, I am Granathe, the Ursine Warder, Captain of the Rosetta; with me, I bring a stranger to our lands. May I present Ichika, the Silversteel Shuriken of the Rustling Loam Dojo from the Land of Misteria.” That proclamation drew a murmur from the crowd, though Ichika noted a lack of surprise, so most people in this room had likely already heard something of her coming. 

In the silence that followed the announcement, the Queen motioned for her to come forward. But she was still frozen as every stranger in this room, who would have made up almost a third of the headcount of her village, was staring at her. This lasted until she felt a broad hand on her back nudging her forwards. “She wants you to approach”, Granathe whispered.

Ichika took slow steps and began to approach the front of the room. As she approached the front, she saw a familiar Shuriken sitting propped up for all to see on a wooden plinth to the right of the Queen. She almost reached for it before remembering where she was.

She continued moving until she stood at the front of the room, at the foot of the dais. She saw the guards watching her and decided stepping up onto it would be a mistake. The Queen nodded in approval and then spoke. “Welcome, traveller from a foreign land. All here know that the Flow occasionally gifts us with fresh faces. We bid you welcome, Ichika, to this forest, this court, and this land. However, we believe your arrival was not the gentlest. Perhaps you would humour us all with an understanding of where you are from, how you came here, and how you came to possess this?” She gestured to the golden shuriken and looked expectantly at Ichika.

Well, she thought this was the direction she had expected this to go. She had been thinking how to explain everything that had happened to her, and she grew tense. She took a breath, but the Queen raised a finger before she could start. “Ahh, since you might not know our customs, and to remind everyone else here that they must abide them. We do not care; that is to say, we do not demand knowledge of what transpired before you came to our lands. We understand that usually, tragedy befalls people before they are brought here. So, we invite you to share it with those you choose, be that an entire room, a close friend, or no one. We will not pry. With that in mind, please continue.”

Ichika sighed at that and grew more relaxed, which caused the Queen to nod at her. So, Ichika began her tale. “It started with an attack, but I won’t speak of that. Let me tell you instead that my home was a place that I imagine many here would enjoy.” Then she told them of the bamboo forests, the abundance of animals, and the villagers fishing in the river. She told them of the peaceful life of villagers who lived simple lives defined by martial training and good lives. She spoke of the summer festival of lanterns when the villagers would put candles in small paper and wood boats and float them down the river. Talking about this made her sad, but she was also happy to see the audience’s rapt attention as they heard tales of a land they had never seen or imagined. She fielded many questions as well, people asking the oddest questions: what were their boats shaped like, what were the largest animals they had, and then more esoteric ones about ninjas and Misteria as a whole.

The rapt interest turned to dismay as she talked about her arrival in the forest. Some nodded, including Granathe, now seated near the back of the hall, when she mentioned befriending the Fianna and the other smaller deer and creatures congregating around them. Though brows started furrowing, people began to look more confused as she described the faunawolves chasing them for days. Then she told, meeting the Na’shari and fortifying the cave, and the faces turned to shock and anger as she got to the wolves’ continued attack.

One man stood up at the back. “Now, wait a second, my Queen, I don’t wish to doubt this guest, but could she be mistaken? The faunawolves do not attack like this; they hunt small game near their homes, take stragglers from a herd, and eat the older and weaker animals. They do not pursue a human for days, and they would not willingly charge into a cave and fight a Na’shari! They are part herbivore, after all!”

That last statement made Ichika blink, but the Queen raised her hand and asked her to continue. She’d have to ask Granathe what the man had meant by his herbivore comment. They hadn’t looked like herbivores to her! 

At the prompting of the Queen, she continued. She spoke of fighting the wolves, of how she and her brave friends had fought all day and night until their energy was spent. She told them how the wolves kept coming until every defender was cut, poisoned, and dying. The crowd looked morose, and there were some wet eyes as she described her brave friends, the Fianna and the Na’shari, who died. Then she saw some faces brighten as she told the arrival of the Rosetta and how Granathe, Marcus, and Petal had surrounded the wolves and finished off the remaining pack. 

“You’re correct though; the wolves weren’t right…” She paused then, unsure if she should talk about evil here, but again, the Queen nodded. “These little worms crawled out of their brains when we killed them. I think the wolves were being driven mad or controlled by them. Granathe and Petal dealt with all of them. Maybe they were infected with some parasite? I don’t know. By that point, I was tired and dying of poison, and I was brought here and healed, and here I am.”

The Queen nodded again as she finished. However, the loud man was standing up again. “Forgive me, my Queen, but she said she was close to death and was healed. How was she healed?” The audience looked shocked at the question, but then she saw faces change as they realised what he had already deduced. 

The Queen just sighed and raised her voice to the room. “Yes, we used the waters of Fensalir to heal her. I know that means we don’t have any more this year. But wait a moment with your anger, and you’ll understand my reasons.” She lowered her voice and addressed Ichika again. “You have forgotten a critical part of your story. How did you come by this?” She gestured to the shuriken again. “This is not a weapon of Aria, and yet it is forged from our metal and made using our methods, which I am certain you do not know.”

“Well, as you likely know, there are many spirits across the world of Rathe. In different parts of Misteria, we revere and form bonds with different types of spirits. For the Rustling Loam dojo, we focus on earth spirits. They are the protectors of our village, and we do rituals and form bonds with them. They are strong enough to add some weight to a blade for a beginner’s strike, or our masters with strong bonds would be able to summon earth to block, strike and guide their fighting style. I was trained in that style, so when I came here and found myself fighting, I performed a small ritual, as I have done hundreds of times. This weapon was the answer. I threw one of my regular Shuriken, which was what it had turned into when it hit my target.”

“And?” the Queen pressed. “Have you been able to control it more than you expected?”

Ichika thought before answering and remembered the shuriken had returned to her hand when she had wished it. As if to answer her, the shuriken lifted from the plinth where it had been resting and flew through the air towards her. This caused the room to burst out in shock, and the guards by the thrown readied their spears and pointed them at her. Ichika just caught it with one hand and then held it at her side, careful not to make any aggressive moves. 

The Queen broke the tension with a laugh and clapped her hands together. “Excellent, it was as I expected!”

Ichika was still confused, “Pardon me, Your Majesty, but maybe you can enlighten me? What does this mean?”

“Ahh, yes!” The queen said, much of her wariness and a slice of her formality falling away. “Well, in Candlehold, we have our elite guardians, called the Rosetta. These warriors train for years to attune with the elements of Aria, and when they are deemed ready, they can use their bond to forge a weapon similar to the one you now hold.”

Uh oh, Ichika thought. She had come to this land and broken some sacred ritual, but the Queen didn’t seem angry and just kept talking.

“A spontaneous rune-forging, I think that is unheard of in years? Is that correct, Granathe?” All eyes were on the bear as he rose. “Correct, your majesty. I read the relevant histories this morning, but the last mention I could find was over 400 years ago.” 

The audience in the chamber was now looking at her with a new light, and the anger seemed to have left them. Ichika was stunned, so she formed a bond with these spirits, and they gifted her this weapon. Somehow, she knew that was how it had happened.

The Queen turned more sombre again then and regained her regal tone. “Well then, based on this evidence, I determined she was a good use of the waters. I am also making another proclamation and an offer. Firstly, I proclaim Ichika, a Guardian of Aria, though it seems Aria has already chosen her for herself. Secondly, I offer her a place in my Rosetta. The Flow allows you to start over fresh, and I would allow you to do that here with us. What do you say?”

“Your majesty, I…” Ichika didn’t know what to say, but a voice saved her from the back of the hall. Petal had entered the room at some point during the discussion. “Your majesty, if I might. Although she is a skilled fighter, she has only been in Aria a week and has spent most of that asleep in this keep. You cannot expect an immediate answer!”

The Queen frowned and then nodded. “Well spoken, Captain Petal. We will leave the offer there and entrust her guidance to your squad. Show her our ways, and she can make her choice then. For now, Ichika, you are a guest of this court and Candlehold, so please be at peace.” 

With those words, she was dismissed. Though she could see eyes tracking her as she made her way to the back of the room, Granathe opened the door for her. Petal joined them as they left.