Engelsain Tales - 19th chapter

An eagle rushed her hunt because the wind changed.

No matter what size, any fish would have to do.

Her eyes sharpened and at the first glimpse of a prey, she plunged in.

In the horizon, under the heavy cover of dark clouds, a lightning shone.

With a trout in her claws, the eagle flew west, towards the mountain top, struggling to take her meal home, in spite of the wind and heavy rain thrown down at her.

Her wings vigorously pushed the air underneath as she couldn’t afford to stop before the nest.

The thunder echoed sombrely, dimming away in the distance.

Focusing on getting home, she ignored the valley below and the temptation of a protecting tree. She knew better than to land on a tree under such weather. She also ignored the travellers on the road by the river.

A humble carriage was pulled by a discouraged mule. Its cover was darkened by the rain, but the driver wouldn’t stop pushing the mule.

Blinding light and a deafening roar burst behind the carriage and the animal hasted into an almost incontrollable race. The passenger had to help the driver hold the reins, because it had all happened too fast for a quick enough reaction.

After a while the mule got used to the sound of thunders and was absently trotting again.

Toren, the driver, spoke. “There is no way this weather is going to calm down anytime soon. We’ll have to make a stop a mile up ahead.”

The passenger just nodded and tried to find some comfort in his soaked cape.

All along the journey this fellow whose name was Rov, as far as Toren could tell, had wore that hood. He was a nice enough young man, although easily distracted, often wandering into his own thoughts or memories. Whenever they crossed an area with people he would pull up his scarf and cover his face, leaving the hood on to cover the upper part.

He said it was for safety. Toren’s safety, mostly.

Good enough, Toren thought under the pressing rain, because the amount of gold he had already been paid would allow him to drive twice as far as the Northern mountain gates and back without needing to see his face.

It still was a mystery though.

Immerse in thoughts of abundance of food for his family in the winter months, Toren started to make a turn to left, away from the road.

Rov looked at him inquisitively but Toren reassured him:

“There is a cave a little south from here. We can try to dry up there and rest until the storm subsides.”
After not too long, they arrived at the place and quietly settled in.

As in the previous stops, Toren and Rov carried the arc to the place where Rov would sleep. No questions asked – more than enough gold for that.

After that, Toren started the fire and they hung up the clothes they could try to dry.

The storm echoed sombrely outside, while Toren fetched them each a blanket, noticing that even the mule seemed to be relieved to be inside. He sat across Rov and Rov handed him bread and ale.

A tasty loaf went down Rov’s throat and then he asked:

“So, you do know these parts well. How long do you think it will take us to get to Mior now?”

Toren pondered while he chewed on the bread and when he found enough space in his mouth he uttered:

“Around one full day under good weather, two or three days if he storm calms down, and five or six if it doesn’t.” As Rov’s brows rose, Toren continued and gave him back the bottle of ale – “The last road that goes down to Mior gets very easily slippery, especially under such heavy rain…”
Rov’s eyes became vague as he was clearly driven into his own thoughts. Toren understood the cue and turned into the blanket, bidding his passenger goodnight.

Rov nodded and hummed, quickly resuming his stream of thought…

Rafanael had fallen asleep unexpectedly, cuddling as an innocent boy would to the blanket on him.

In the next morning he woke up refreshed, a feeling not enjoyed in many years. The clear memory of a dream insisted on coming back and back again.

An ill woman and a boy were taking a hot bath in the same room and they spoke tenderly to each other, often begging forgiveness to each other. When they were clean and dry, the woman took care of a bleeding wound in the boy’s bottom – they must have been son and mother – and an eternity of apologies, wishful thinking and hugs, the boy got dressed with thick clothes and a snow jacket and took a bag and a staff and walked out into the snowy night. The woman made a prayer and one could see the light of the blessing softly shinning down on her and an equal glow falling like snow onto the boy.

Rafanael could see the boy sadly walking away from a village and into a wide path in the nearby forest. The boy resembled many of the people in the area of his homeland but that did not matter at all now. The boy walked and talked to himself, repeating his mother’s prayer over and over again. Rafanael could see the boy from above as if he were softly flying. And then suddenly a bright white light shone beside him and a beautiful, deep and calm voice came from the light:
“Our gathering will soon take place, I will retrieve Nev from the snow and in time your paths shall cross, as his is the icon you now carry. Be in peace, until soon.”
Then out of the light a blue winged horse flew and landed close to the unconscious body of the boy…Nev… the light seemed to pull the boy on to the horse and then it became brighter and brighter until Rafanael was awaken by the sunlight coming in the hut.
Toren asked:
“Good morning Rov, the storm has completely faded away. It will take us a while to get to Mior safely. Would you like to wait here another day before the roads are dry?”
Rafanael shook his head to get a grip on the question and after a long yawn, replied:

“We must get to Mior as soon as possible, I think it’s preferable to deal with possible delays when confronted with them, alright, Toren?”
“Certainly. Let’s get going then; all sunlit hours are precious in these final parts of the trek.”

Toren noticed a subtle shift in Rov’s face and demeanour but didn’t comment. No questions asked – enough gold for that. And they went back to the road by the river and drove away into the mountains.

Up in the sky, a proud eagle was slowly circling up a current of warm air, searching for food or simply enjoying the flight…