The Promise of No Words

EVIN’S POINT OF VIEW

“Mouse, are you still not awake?”

The creak of the door was loud in the early morning air as it slowly opened. The damp hinges cried out and some leaf-scented air entered, pulling behind it the scent of a new day. I looked toward the door but stayed quiet as Uncle Thomir waited for me to answer. I paid attention only to the mild steam gently arising from my tea bowl.

The steaming tea was a nice contrast to my legs which kept shivering and aching. Shifting slightly, I could hear the quiet click of the prosthetic where it met the wood resting on the harness. All the movements helped me feel like I was on a personal adventure, both through my body and my emotions. I held the straps, noticing how rough-textured they were and how it helped me be aware of that instant.

As dawn broke in the distance, turning the sky into orange and pink, the mood inside seemed weighed down by words people weren’t expressing. Uncle Thomir's patience was thinning, a silent tension radiating from him. I felt uncomfortable as I noticed his attention on me, whether it was regret or worry and I continued to be quiet, watching the steam from my tea go up with all my troubles.

As I tried to think clearly after each breath, the ideas darted away from me, joined by my memories and doubts. Even though the world was starting to wake up, I felt as though I were still in the mood of yesterday. The soft noise of the kettle sounded in the background like a peaceful song, juxtaposed with the turmoil in my thoughts.

Eventually, when the steam lifted, I took a calming breath and decided I would face any obstacle that appeared. Having inhaled the fresh morning air, I stood up next to Uncle Thomir, hoping to break the silence and begin some conversation.

Mid-morning has passed and the sun is halfway up the sky. If you are interested in catching a feather, make sure to grab it before the crows come upon it.”

As he stepped past me, I heard a bit of grumbling and a scrape as his stool rubbed against the floor about how I was lazy and the tea was overly strong. What he said wasn’t a serious remark. That was how he showed me he cared and loved me and I’m grateful you’re still here.

I took a sip of the strong brew and let the harsh heat spread in my throat before I got up. The creek stood still.

Windmere was just a small community settled by the edge of the western woods and the hills near it acted like sleepy dogs. I could smell the moist scent of pines, the smell of stale bread and smoke coming from the tanner. We were so forgotten by mapmakers that they never recorded our existence. Good. Maps marked borders and these borders led to battles.

While walking by the creek, I remained watchful and made sure not to fall into the water. Keep your left foot solid. Draw the right foot back from the board. Every step I took made a muffled crunching noise on the wet leaves. I found the music’s rhythm enjoyable. There was no way the birds did. They scattered.

I saw a blue-and-black feather that became stuck in a bramble. Jay, probably. I wanted it, so I grabbed for it. Using a prosthetic was challenging for me, but I had learned all the angles and how to grip tightly. I was more patient after being through this process. You needed to then, as the change in the wind destroyed the island with a fire and a scream.

I placed the feather in the pouch attached to my belt. Here’s the fifth one for today.

“Evin!”

The sound of the voice came down from the path above. Kesh is the daughter of the blacksmith. She was always full of elbows, smudges and strong opinions. Mary ran down to join me, her cheeks getting red from the cold.

You’re once more being reminded that you haven’t done your chores when Papa says it’s only fair to tell you. He apparently saw that you were looking at the creek as if you were disappointed by it.

I shrugged.

She called them “weird,” but it was done with a smile. “Anyway. Will you be at the hearth this evening? According to reports, those from the borderlands are now staying over. Might tell us interesting storeys.

I hesitated as I passed my thumb over the feather pouch. Kesh lifted her chin up.

“You can stay quiet if that’s what you want.” Try to be around for them when they need you. Paying attention to what your friends are saying is important to them. Allows them to feel knowledgeable.

I gave a weak smile. She was telling the truth.

Go ahead and be secretive. Go ahead and take a seat, buddy? And suddenly she was far in advance, shaking her feet and blaming the tight boots as she went.

I didn’t return to the place straightaway. A sense of magic seemed to be everywhere. I detected the distant smell of ash in the wind and it didn’t please me. I stood in place and waited to hear. For silence, not for sound. Imagine that it twines around the sound of birds and squeezes the life out.

When he got back to the hut, Thomir had a frown on his face as he kept measuring the herbs. I walked in quietly. He didn’t raise his head.

“How about you, have you heard?” he said.

I nodded.

Border town was attacked by more of the Bastards. Both acts of fire and people going missing. The usual.”

He was told to crush the herb, but he actually pressed the purpleroot much harder than the recipe stated.

“They’ve changed. The irresponsible use is not acceptable any longer. They bind. That is what the merchant mentioned to me. People, after sleeping, are given tasks to perform. Ugly magic.”

I switched to facing the front. I stiffened up at the mention of the word.

I spat out, “Oaths,” so that the small, sour word could be heard.

“Yeah.” He glanced at me for a long time before saying anything. “Nothing happens for you when they use binding spells?”

I nodded my head to confirm. He grunted.

It puts a target on your back. To someone with the wrong intentions, I could mean trouble.

I didn’t want to risk getting into trouble. Feathers was the first thing I hoped to find. Brew tea. Take deep breaths as if there were no limits to your time.

That evening, I sat down by the warmth of the village hearth. Life was bustling inside the longhouse, with lots of excitement and a warm smell coming from the thick meat stew cooking next to the fire. The fires offered a pleasant warm light that made the rough walls glow, highlighting the happy gatherings. 

Voices blended into a vibrant symphony—children's laughter rang out like silver bells, punctuated by the occasional throat-clearing cough or the clatter of wooden mugs against the sturdy tables. I took a break by finding a quiet spot and resting beside the stone wall. Nature’s darkness and light played with my vision, making shadows and light dance across my body. 

I noticed Kesh winking at me from across the room while I savoured the music. The guy happened to notice me and raised his hand with a thumbs-up; it gave me a moment of joy amid all the hustle. The unique noises and aromas covered me, as if they were a comfortable blanket, bringing me deeper into the middle of the celebration.

Three travellers sat by the fire, their faces partly illuminated by its warmth. There was a bandage covering each of his hands. One held an old staff that was breaking apart. Three was the first to actually communicate with us.

There was no sound from their approach. No torches. No warning. The ground whispered to her as they were coming.

One of the students asked, “What do you mean when you say ‘whisper’?”

Let me be clear: I meant spoken softly. Just as if the trees had learned to submit to command. They refer to it as the oath-flame. Inspiration speaks to you and you speak your words out loud.

There was a period of silence.

The treasure was not in the form of gold. I never raped anyone, took drugs or bragged. It was enough to whisper what he wanted and people obeyed like marionettes.

“Lousy fucking bastards,” a speaker said.

“Are these soldiers hired for money?” Kesh asked. “Cultists?”

“They’re bandits. Yet, not the same as in the past. Not hungry. Organized. They have a sense that there’s something following them. A will.”

I noticed how the man’s eyes moved when he mentioned his child. He realised there was some greater danger than the raiders. Becoming obedient was something he avoided.

I spent some time outside afterward. It was very chilly outside at night. Moon looking like a broken bone. I felt the wind on my sleeves, but I didn’t go inside.

I was seated near the well. It felt chilly to the touch. I could hear my prosthetic light on the rough wood when I set it down. The stars caught my eye. Tried not to let the smell of smoke I had caught on the wind enter my mind. It felt like I could feel the pressure silence created between the trees these days. I was never bothered when someone promised using oaths.

Diego could feel something moving across the floor. The kind of wrong that goes unnoticed most of the time.

On some level, I suspected that things might not work out.

The memories were beginning to resurface.