McCloud,” the old lady creaked with a small bow, “at your service.”
Quickly, Lythina stopped dipping her bread, folded her hands on her lap, and returned the bow. “Lythina Graham, truly yours.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Lythina,” Hildabrand said as her guest began to taste her soup. “How is it?”
“Exquisite,” Lythina replied with a grin, “I’ve never had soup this good!”
“Wonderful, that’s means I cooked the lizard eyes fully,” the lady teased as Lythina choked. “Just kidding, love.”
With a nervous laugh, Lythina continued eating.
“Sorry, but you said God was a She,” the young lady inquired after savoring a big mouthful of soup. “I always thought God was a He.”
Hildabrand poured some tea for both of them. “He; She; all the same. It just depends on what perspective you’re looking from.” When she finished pouring, she slid a steamy mug over to her guest, who drank from it carefully. “You’re a very bright young lady, I’m sure you can see the logic in that. Do you know God?”
“Do any of us really know God?” Lythina countered as she sat the mug onto the table and continued to work on her soup.
“Ah, you have the same wit as your mother, I see,” the lady squeaked pleasantly. She was still peering at Lythina with her interrogating eyes.
Lythina nearly spat, but managed to swallow quickly. “You knew my mother?” she asked, gazing at the aged woman.
“Oh yes, she stayed here quite often before you were born. I recognized you as her daughter when I saw you on your way to the Oracle. You have her features.” She smiled proudly at that, as if she had given them herself.
“Ah, so, that was you watching me,” Lythina concluded. “I thought I felt someone’s eyes on me as I passed through this ruined village.”
“Your intuition serves you well, I’m sure. It served your mother greatly. Her mind was as sharp and quick as a dragonblade.” The old lady chuckled quietly to herself, lost inside her ancient memories.
Lythina slurped up the last of her soup and sat back in the wooden chair to relax with her cup of tea. She closed her eyes and took a deep, warm breath; but her contentment soon faded.
“I never knew my mother,” she revealed. “She died just after giving birth to me.”
“She would’ve been mighty proud of you, love,” Hildabrand squeaked.
“I just wish I could’ve gotten to know her, at least a little bit. All of the maidens who raised me said she was the strongest woman they knew.” She sipped her tea. “They said that, after my father was killed, my mother’s heart was so broken that she just waited for me to be born so she could die.”
“That’s the kind of power love has on our hearts,” the Innkeeper said. “It can bring euphoria, and it can bring death.” She grabbed her mug of tea and shuffled over to a soft rocking chair sitting next to a fireplace constructed of the same brickwork as the cabin. Inside its stout mantel was a roaring fire.
Something inside Lythina told her to follow, so she got up and took a comfortable seat in another rocking chair adjacent the Innkeeper. For a moment, they both sat quietly sipping their tea, soaking in the warmth of the blaze.
“Can you tell me more about my mother?” Lythina asked.
“I can, dear, but what you really seek is knowledge about yourself. Your mother, Kari, was the same way. She would come and stay at my Inn whenever she had business out at sea.”
“At sea?” Lythina pulled her gaze from the fire to glance at the Innkeeper. “But the Forgotten Sea west of here is covered in fog.”
“No, no. The mist wasn’t always there,” Hildabrand clarified at Lythina’s confused expression. “It arrived about 20-some years ago. The Forgotten Sea is a name given to these parts of the ocean because the kingdom’s merchants started avoiding the fog altogether. And, as you know, the wind in Hyrendell always blows from west to east. They say it’s the earth between the shores that keeps the waters on the east side of the island calm. It was easier to navigate in every way, so the merchants basically forgot about these waters when they switched their trade routes to the Eastern coast of Hyrendell.
“But, every once in a while,” the innkeeper spoke, as if it were a secret, “far out at sea, there is a dancing light that shines through the mist, almost like a fire that burns on the water, but that is all that’s visible because the fog is so dense. I’ve been keeping track of it, and I’m very sure that it arrives with every full moon.”
By now, Lythina was leaning off her seat with curiosity, enough so that she coughed as a cover to readjust herself properly. “Hasn’t anyone gone to investigate it? I mean, just because the trade routes were switched doesn’t mean everyone lost interest in this side of the island. I’ve seen ships pass by the western cliffs on their way to the castle.”
“Yes, many have gone to investigate the light, but none have returned, dear,” the old woman informed. Lythina thought she saw fear reflected in the old woman’s eyes. “That’s what led to the neglect of our village. Flowerpatch was once a bustling community, positively glowing with life. But ever since that light showed up and people started leaving shore to find it, everyone became angry and scared because no one was coming home. Once the fear became too strong, everyone else abandoned this cursed place and moved to Hyrendell Village. I’m the only person left here.” She sighed with discontent. “I just never got the nerve to leave my home.”
Lythina’s mind was pounding with excitement, wonder, and fatigue. It was quite a headache. “What kind of business did my mother have out at sea? Was she a merchant also?”
“Yes, she was. She sold food and clothing to the folks out at the docks. She was quite a saleswoman, if you ask me,” Hildabrand testified. “It was her intellect that sold, not her merchandise. She knew just how to speak to the merchants. I would go with her on some occasions, and she was as kind to the captains as she was to the children. Quite a remarkable lady, she was.”
“Is that how my mother met my father,” Lythina inquired. “I always heard that he was a gifted sealad.”
Hildabrand looked at Lythina squarely. “How much do you know about your father, Marcus?”
“Just what I’ve heard from my Aunt and the maidens,” Lythina replied. “Why?” She was beginning to worry.
“Your father was a sealad, love, but that’s because he traveled with the king’s armada. Your father was a soldier of Hyrendell.” Lythina was stunned, but surprisingly, the news settled somewhere comfortably inside her. While she couldn’t imagine her own father associating with Hyrendell’s tyranny, she had a warm feeling that he would have been fiercely loyal to good virtues nonetheless.
“Your mother and him met on the docks one day,” Hildabrand continued. “I remember it because after that she would come back to stay here every full moon. That was when the king’s fleet would arrive to replenish their supplies. They would stay for a week at a time, then he would return to sea with the armada, and she would disappear for a month only to come back again. This went on for many years.”
“Were they in
