The Hammer Unfalls

Part Two: Forging the Trine

2.23 Minds Sown

˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳

Evening sun suffused the shore of Welkin Ring with diffuse golden light. Warm winds whipped at the long braid Tomykas wore at his back. The young warrior reclined in the radiant sands between fronds of palm bushes near the beach, listening to the rhythmic crashing of surf. Seasnakes slithered in the brilliant blue waters of the Sanguinolent Sea. Nearby, a palmfruit fell to the ground and rolled towards him. Tomykas sucked at its flesh, coaxing out the stubborn dram of sweetness within.

The saturated light of evening faded to the dullness of dusk as he pondered his plight. No matter how much he wished otherwise, Tomykas knew a bitter truth: he’d fallen in love with the king’s daughter, Mhagi. The thought should have sent his heart soaring in joy. But one simple, time-honored tradition stood in his way.

She’s of royal blood, and I’m not.

In other towns, in other countries, that wouldn’t mean much. Royalty was all but unknown these days.

Here on the isolated island of Welkin Ring, where the sons of Phyr and the daughters of Aeolia had guarded the sickle for generations with their lifeblood, it meant everything.

Tomykas could ask for Mhagi’s hand. Arguably, it was the honorable thing to do. Risk execution, or at best accept banishment. Neither struck Tomykas as palatable outcomes.

But neither did spending the rest of his life in the shadows, watching his love live out her life. Bear another’s children. If she found a happy life, it would both please and pain him.

If not, if anyone hurt her, Tomykas knew he’d never have the restraint to watch in silence. Eventually, he’d give himself away.

Tomykas watched the sun’s tip dip below the broad expanse of the Sanguinolent Sea. He sighed at its passing, as befitted the longstanding tradition of his people.

As the residual sunlight faded, he watched a clump of seaweed wash ashore. Unlike the matted brown clumps of slime he usually saw, this tendril seemed smooth. Glossy, with crisp rounded edges and twin leaves. He’d never seen anything like it. Nor had he ever seen one so long. Its stem trailed into the water so far that it disappeared into the depths.

Tomykas rose and approached the tendril. Its radiance hurt his eyes. It writhed, or sparkled somehow, in the final burst of fading sunlight. The longer he looked at it, the less he comprehended. He could hear its heartbeat in his mind. A melodic, rhythmic pulsing.

His eyes struggled to process the sight. He blinked, and saw red silhouettes of the seedling’s leaves against the blue of the water. He looked over again at the tendril, but it had been dragged back by the sea. For some reason he couldn’t explain, the loss pained Tomykas, as if he’d lost a parent. Or fallen in battle.

Tomykas had experienced both, in fact, and the vine’s absence affected him even more deeply than the bereavement or shame of those tragedies had. He mourned it. Why, he could not tell.

But the sting of loss wasn’t as sharp as it might have been, for he’d heard the tendril’s laughter. It lightened his heart. It brought visions to his mind of far off places. Majestic mountains, with Mhagi at his side. Her bright golden torc replaced by a simple linen scarf. Her black hair tinged with gray, her dark skin lighter from years of absence from the island sun. Her arm coiled around his waist, and her head against his shoulder as they sighed together at the setting of the pale mountain sun.

Somehow, the vision buoyed his spirits. It gave him the courage to ask Mhagi for her hand.

The tendril watched him as it sank into the water, searching for the wind-daughter known as Mhagi.

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Walking back to the huts of Pelú, Tomykas’s footsteps felt light. As usual he dined at the warrior’s table. But not as the same man who’d dined there yesterday.

“Got your appetite back, I see?” one of his warriors said.

“Ahh, it’s good to see the fire in your eyes!” said another.

His sickle-kin smiled and clapped his back, sensing that somehow their brother’s spirit had returned.

When dinner ended, Tomykas walked alongside Mhagi, whose silken robes and golden torc outshone anything he’d ever owned. Her warm eyes brimmed with what might be affection, though her face showed only a mask of polite interest at his presence.

“Greetings, Tomykas. The warrior’s table was rowdier than usual this evening.”

“I didn’t realize you noticed such things,” Tomykas said, his roguish smile showing a flash of his brilliant white teeth. “Walk with me?” Tomykas took her hand and pulled her into the moonlight by the shore.

“What has gotten into you, Tomykas?” she asked, in a tone he could only describe as hope draped in tragedy.

The hope he clung to, for he’d tossed aside the threat of tragedy. Tomykas held her eyes with his steady own. “I’ve decided to be true to myself, and ask for your hand.”

He couldn’t see her blush in the dark, but sensed it. He took her in his arms and held her. Her breath came ragged and her tears wet his cheek. As she cried, he whispered to her of his vision. Of ice-capped mountains and strange purple trees. Elk and geese. Harvesting black mushrooms and golden grain.

When her tremors had calmed, Tomykas tilted her face towards his. “You haven’t given me your answer.”

--------------- ~~~ *** ~~~ ---------------

Mhagi steadied herself with a long breath. How long had she watched this warrior? Seen his limbs grow long? Witnessed his prowess and his failure? The gentle curiosity in his eyes?

And now, the entire world had caught on fire and she’d just woken up and noticed. Ever since she’d seen the tendril along the water, with a luminosity that hurt her eyes, her senses had sharpened. Welkin Ring had become twisted. The palms had no idea why they were here. The seasnakes remembered cold, and the heat of this island confused them. The birds had lost their migration path, confused by the drafts of a foreign wind.

Tonight, Mhagi had finally realized the island’s pain. She heard the unbalanced, labored breath of the plants and animals around her.

Welking Ring felt… exausted. Worn out. And now Tomykas wanted to take her away from it. Admitting that he’d felt the truth of it in his own bones. He’d asked for her hand, despite the ruthless consequences her incensed father might give him in return.

She wanted nothing more than to say yes, to this warrior who’d captured her heart long ago. But if she did so, she’d kill him as surely as if she’d guided the spear into his heart with her own hand. But his question lingered, unanswered. She had to respond.

Mhagi pulled herself from his embrace and sighed. Her breath sounded ragged to her own ears.

“I’ve had such hopes too. Yet if I agree to marry you, the next thing I’ll see is your head rolling along this beach, separated from the rest of you.” A rattle in the bushes confirmed her words, as her guards dragged their sickles along the palms in warning.

Tomykas deflated. He started to turn away from her, admitting defeat. But she took his face in her hand and turned it towards her own.

“And if I refuse to marry you, the next thing I’ll know is the sorrow of my own soul.”

Tomykas opened his eyes wide, drinking in her words.

“So I’m afraid, Tomykas, that for the sake of our people’s honor I cannot reply… yet. You will simply have to live your life without knowing my answer.”

She headed off his disappointment with a smile.

“However, there’s no way I can form an answer without having all of the information.” Her voice rose so that anyone nearby could hear it plainly. “No ruler of Welkin Ring would ever be expected to make a rash decision, for that would endanger our people. I cannot decide without first seeing these lands you speak of, and making up my mind whether it is better to live there with you or stay here.” His face lit up as she spoke, though fear twitched in the shadows of his eyes. “It may take me many years to make up my mind. That’s how much I honor our traditions, and honor your integrity and bravery in seeking my hand.”

Her voice became iron. The wind arose around her, whistling through the palms and tossing her hair behind her as her eyes flashed warning. She screamed over the wind: “So if anyone were to refuse my right to learn more before giving an answer, I’d have no choice but to show them the fury that such dishonor brings.”

Mhagi pushed Tomykas behind her, backing slowly to the shore as she buffeted the bushes with lancing gusts of air. “I command you, Tomykas, to take me in this raft and show me this land you speak of. If anyone wishes to protest, do so with honor, and not hiding behind the palms.”

Trembling, she shoved Tomykas into the nearest raft. He pushed it away from the shore, assisted by a fierce wind that lifted the vessel into the water. Mhagi tumbled in beside him and picked up an oar.

They paddled in panic until they cleared the surging surf that encircled Welkin Ring. Once free, Tomykas rigged the sail to the spars. The cloth caught in the raging wind, carrying them deep into the waters of the Sanguinolent Sea on an erratic course as whitewater surged below the raft.

“Mhagi!” she heard him yell, “Don’t drain yourself!”

She smiled a secret smile, knowing what he did not: Mhagi burned her own fear as it rose in her chest. It drove her far beyond sanity or reason, where none could follow. Perhaps a crew of dedicated rowers might catch up to them, but it would be due only to sheer luck if they did. The expanse of the sea and the direction of the wind would offer no clues to their pursuers. As her anxiety faded, she allowed the wind to drop back to a steady breeze.

Stars speckled the sky, clear black above them as the air grew cool.

Mhagi pulled Tomykas against her as she lay along the bottom of the raft. So close that their breath tickled each other’s lips in the dark. They touched each other with lingering hands, kissing softly.

“You haven’t done what I commanded,” she said.

“What have I failed to do, highness?”

“I told you to take me in this raft.”

She felt his lips smile against her neck. They moved together under the stars, to the rhythm of the waves.