***
For Stenhelt, the passing spring was a season of eagerly anticipated undertakings and time with family. In the solitude of the Cragwood, he made time during whichever task he'd embarked on to reflect on his travels and adventures. He was eager to venture out again, but remained patient; there were goals to accomplish first.
Postponing the construction of his home, Sten went south on a hunt deep into the forest. He tracked wood curs for days, finally spearing one. He then sent out an aura for the rest of the pack to leave; they needed little convincing. He cleaned the pelt, and chose a thigh bone for his totem. Following Chohla's example, the meat was given to the forest.
During the trek home, a boar and two striped deer were also added to his sled. The excess meat was sold to the village innkeeper, Vendik, who seemed uncomfortable during the barter. Sten assumed the reaction was because of the failed courtship with Annori, so he explained that he understood her decision and that all was well.
Not long after his cur hunt, Sten explained the magic of bone totems to Irisella and offered to take her hunting for her own. She guiltily admitted that she'd already used her inherent skills to kill. A raccoon had gotten into her cherished autumnberry bushes. Angered at the damage it caused, she urged the low branch of a nearby tree to grab the fleeing animal. The urging was apparently too strong; the branch whipped out at the raccoon and snapped its neck.
Full of regret, Iri had buried the animal out beyond the sap trees. Sten dug it up, skinned it, and gave her a bone totem of her own. She received it with mixed emotions, seeing the mystic item as both a gift and a reminder.
One day, while Iri watched Sten clean a pelt with his Maker's trick, she asked, "Do you think any inherent gifts were passed on to Tull?"
Sten looked up from his work. "Isn't it obvious, Iri? He could most likely uproot one of mother's orchard trees if he put his mind and back to it."
"He's stronger than a team of oxen, true, but..." she paused and shrugged, "It's such a simple thing compared to what we can do with our gifts."
"Tull is a simple man, so perhaps it's fitting that his ability is the same."
Iri nodded her agreement of Sten's logic, and then asked, "Will you tell him of bone totems?"
Sten sat back. "I've thought about that," he replied with a sigh, "but I don't think it would be wise. Tull is fascinated by my little tricks; think of what he might do with his own totem. I love him, but I cannot trust his lack of good judgment to use a powerful tool with caution. I fear he'd fetch trouble, and quickly. Please avoid letting him see you use yours as well."
"I will, I swear." Iri wasn't fond of keeping secrets from Tull, and could sense that Sten wasn't, either. There was nothing to be done for it, though. Keeping their elder brother ignorant of hidden truths was the only way to ensure his safety.
The cabin came together more quickly than expected. Between chores, Irisella and Baraide came out to pack daubing between fitted logs, and helped set his sod roof. While Tullgar had lately become Lady Tovira's cooper for her winery, he still had time to assist in building the stone foundation and chimney. Halivik saw to details such as hinges for the door and shutters, but mostly came to spend time with his son and hear more accounts of his trek.
Sten was quite satisfied with the finished structure. Tull built and provided a sturdy table, chair and bedframe; his mother made down-stuffed padding for the latter two. His father gave him a few of the stretching racks for large pelts. Iri offered to plant berry bushes of Sten's choosing around the outside. He wanted skyberry, mostly to have the uncommon berries on hand for the purple paint needed to make high sigils. His father questioned the choice of a poisonous bush; Sten said they'd keep rodents away, which was true enough.
By the time summer set in, Sten had begun studying his maps and gathering supplies for another trek. As Chohla suggested, he would choose a destination in Kaldevarr. Surprisingly, there was a hallowed place marked where the city of Vallo was. He had no desire to travel there, but two other locations did seem appealing. The first was a place deep in the Whispering Pines, near the Thorn Hills. The other location, and most intriguing to Sten, was far out on a peninsula of the eastern coast - a large, remote, and possibly unexplored area. The notion of it thrilled him.
When the two moons were full again in autumn, Sten would go to the hallowed cave near Caribou Lake and depart. No doubt Iri would want to travel with him, but he knew their parents would refuse without debate. His sister was good company, but he selfishly didn't want the burden of looking after her in the event of unforeseen danger. He wanted his next trek to be a purely solitary one, unfettered by anything except what fate offered.
Time was the only obstacle left to hurdle, although Sten made the most of it. He helped Tull plane timber planks for Lady Tovira's wine casks, and traveled with him to deliver them on one occasion. He was greeted warmly by every resident of Oma-Krin estate, especially Tovira herself.
Sten noted Silga's odd behavior when she and other estate workers welcomed him back. She seemed shy at first, but her lips kept curling into a strange grin. When she found a moment to speak privately with him, she offered condolences for Annori choosing another suitor. Her eyes belied her words. Sten left soon after, wondering why Silga would be false with him.
A few days after the visit to Lady Tovira's estate, Iri came to Sten's cabin. She told him that she wanted to explore her 'nature's touch' further, and asked for assistance in the form of a game. Hide and seek, of all things. Trusting in his own skills and abilities, Sten doubted that his little sister had much chance to win. He soon learned differently - she'd been practicing.
First, Iri had somehow left no tracks into the woods at all -no pressed grass, no broken twigs, nor any marks on bare ground. Listening, he couldn't hear footsteps or movement through any underbrush. Sten had to use his sense of smell to lead him, and eventually caught her scent. Hunting for his sister was proving more difficult than any wild game he'd ever stalked.
He was surprised once more when wild grass and underbrush reached out and pulled at his boots to slow him. Then tree limbs began to move, groaning as they slowly swung low to block his intended route. Somewhere nearby, he heard Iri giggle; her voice echoed around every tree. She could see him, but his sharp eyes couldn't find her. Impressed, he continued the hunt.
A short time later, Sten came to a shady spot in the woods and stopped. Iri's clean, fragrant scent was strong there. He turned quickly when he heard the rustle of a bush next to a broad yew tree. Iri, uncannily camouflaged to the exact likeness of that tree's bark, reached out and touched Sten's shoulder. Laughing, she stepped away from the tree, and her disguise silently fell away from her like leaves in a sudden gust. Sten touched his sister's smooth cheek as he smiled with wonder, then hugged her and praised her skill. Iri beamed with pride.
Nearing the longest days of summer, father and son ventured out for a short two-day trek. On the first evening, Halivik tended to a fish and some wild mushrooms cooking in his new bronze skillet over the campfire. He paid little attention to the food, though; a question weighed on his mind and in his heart, and had for some time. He was on the verge of asking it when he saw his son begin to work a Maker's craft on the pelt of a fresh deer kill.
He watched Sten kneel over the pelt, making gestures with his hands while whispering a strange chant in Locan. Halivik had seen 'the tricks' before, and always found them unsettling.
Sten then used the ridge of his hand to remove any flesh or fat from the inner pelt. It was clean in moments - no salting, no soaking, and no chance of rot. After another similar incantation, he turned the pelt over and brushed the hair off as if removing loose dirt. More than a day's work done in the time that anyone else would've just begun. Halivik had mixed feelings on the mystic matter; he acknowledged the obvious benefits, but the method felt unnatural to him.
"I think the fish is starting to burn, father," Sten informed him.
Halivik quickly pulled the skillet away from the fire. "Sorry, my mind w
andered. It's not overly dark." While Sten began tying the hide between two trees to stretch it, Halivik thought to begin with casual talk rather than blurting out a possibly painful question. "You, uh... You came back quickly with that young buck."
Sten continued stringing the hide and replied simply. "I knew where it was."
Letting the strange reply pass, Halivik reminded him, "You know we already have a surplus of meat in the cold cellar, don't you?" Of course he knew; it was Sten who restocked the majority of it after he returned home.
"You have meat, but not much coin to barter with if need be. Vendik will need venison when the late summer traders come through and visit the inn. You can sell the meat to him."
"A good plan, but that kill is yours, son."
Sten looked over his shoulder for a moment. "It's ours, father, and I have no need for any of it." Changing the subject as he returned to his work, Sten asked, "Do you want this skin softened and smoked for clothes and such?"
"No need; rawhide will do," Halivik answered while he threw a few pinches of dirt into the fire to lower its heat. "I've a need for some rope, and your mother needs new soles for her shoes."
"Good, less work for me," his son replied lightheartedly.
A comfortable lull of conversation followed. While Halivik absently moved the skillet away from the fire, he decided that the time was as good as any to ask the question that gnawed at his conscience for a long time. "Son, about Tovira's teachings... Did you ever see it as unfair that your mother and I made you visit the estate so often, when no one else had to?"
Sten shrugged as he pulled the deerskin taut. "I was frightened mostly, to be honest."
"Tovira taught you things that scared you?" Halivik asked, surprised. For whatever her wealth or mystic skill, he always considered the Lady of Oma-Krin estate a gentle soul.
Sten paused to answer. "No, I meant that the look in yours and mother's eyes made me afraid, that I was ill in some way." He resumed his work, and then added, "But only at first, though. Lady Tovira put me at ease, and I saw your worry lessen with time."
"I - I didn't know you could tell," Halivik guiltily admitted. "Your mother and I only wanted what we thought was best. I hope it didn't weigh too heavily on you."
"It was long ago," Sten casually replied as he snugged the last knot.
"Still, I never would have wanted my concern to be your burden, had I known."
"Please stop finding things to worry after, father. Being sent to Lady Tovira was for the best, as I see it. I soon felt lucky to be a guest at the estate. I learned many things beyond my lessons at the church. I was allowed to sip the same wine that the King drinks. I even rode a horse."
"Lucky indeed," Halivik said with a sigh, inwardly relieved to hear that the efforts to save his son's sanity were also fond memories. Still troubling was the strange deeds that Sten could perform, many of which Tovira never could explain.
"The only weight on my mind now," Sten commented with a hint of a grin as he stepped toward the campfire, "is trying to force my teeth through that overcooked fish."