Dark laughter rumbled in the distance. The sounds morphed into rasping voices, hidden by the thick bushes lining the valley.
Elara swallowed, her mouth dry.
The flowering basket fell to the earth with a soft thud. The world spun, and she snapped her eyes shut, trying to drown out their taunts.
The words that followed sounded like stones grinding together.
“Let us warm you, child.”
“Iron breaks. Wood rots. Only death endures.”
“Let us through, Seiðkona.”
“That is not my name!” Elara shouted, making birds scatter from their nests.
When the draugar called to her now, they called herSeiðkona.
A name that stirred something within her. A name that meant something. A name she refused to acknowledge, terrified of what it meant.
Elara’s jaw clicked and her teeth snapped together.
A velvety purr hummed nearby. Soon, plush fur slid under her fingers. She blinked. The chants of the draugar disintegrated into nothing but wisps in Alruna’s presence.
The creature came and went of her own will, but she never failed to appear when Elara needed her most.
With Alruna perched at her feet, Elara returned to her weaving, intent on finishing it before the end of the day.
It was a gift for their neighbor. Brynne had been exceedingly kind to them. She came over as the sun rose, offering to help them with any chores. Then, in the evening, after tending to her own family, she’d visit once more.
Brynne didn’t have to do those things, especially considering she had a young son. Yet, she did. Elara knew it was mostly for her benefit. Her father had returned to his routine, tilling their fields and tending to the livestock, meaning he was gone from sunrise to sunset.
He didn’t want Elara alone so much. Even if he didn’t say it. She saw it in the worry lines etched around his eyes.
Growing up, she never had many friends, mostly by her own design. She didn’t want anyone to notice the spark in her fingers or ask about the dreams that sometimes came true.
And that went doubly for any chance of making a match. Her father mentioned it offhandedly, seeing if Elara wished him to find a husband for her. He never forced the issue, content for his daughter to stay with him for as long as she wanted.
She worried if anyone found out, it’d bring more problems to her family. Her father and Elara had enough for a lifetime. They deserved some peace.
So Elara kept to herself.
Now she had Alruna, she wasn’t as lonely as she once had been.
The two of them sat together in the quiet woods while Elara finished three more baskets.
Alruna shifted, her hackles raised. The panther’s purr morphed into a gravelly growl.
Rocks dug into her knees as Elara sat up, tugging on the hem of her dress. The linen fibers were smooth under her fingers. An acrid scent stung her nostrils, ash coating the back of her throat.
Thick black smokestacks billowed into the sky. A chorus of screams pierced the once serene afternoon, sending animals running into their burrows.
Shallow breaths hitched high in her throat. Her toes wiggled in her boots. Instinct urged her to turn and sprint deeper into the forest until the trees devoured her.
“Papa,” she breathed.
Nothing in this world could make her leave him. All they had left was each other. If he could, he’d tell her to hide. But she couldn’t survive without him. She barely hung on without her mother and brother.
If he were gone too… The thought was too painful to finish.
