Episode 63

We like to think that places don’t change

Mountains are fixed and valleys stay the same

So the towns that we love can be left with their culture

Frozen in time like a painting or sculpture

But mountains do move on magma plates

Valleys are carved at glacial pace

And so do towns change in their way

Moulded by them that leave and those who come to stay

Ina Thoreson was an elder of Benlunar. She lived in one of the largest houses in town and was known to be kind up until her patience ran out. Mr Attorcop had told Lilian once that Mrs Thoreson (as she was more commonly known) was his aunt. What with everything going on, Lilian had forgotten that fact. But as soon as she saw Mrs Thoreson enter the Glade home, clad in her night-black cloak and hood, that memory came rushing back to her. And with it came a terrible feeling of guilt. A thousand thoughts ran through Lilian’s mind as she watched the old woman turn to observe the small interior. Did she know about Mr Attorcop? Was she a follower of Sage Fenric’s now? Had he sent her to finish the job that he’d started under the Drygemarsh? She was about to say something, a greeting, an apology, she knew not what, when a shape rushed past her in a flash. Little Emma had noticed the visitor and had nearly knocked Lilian over in her journey to hug the old woman. Mrs Thoreson laughed and returned the hug with a smile and a squeeze. Then she bent low and began to sign a few words to the little girl. Emma giggled and answered her questions with smiles and signs of her own.

Esther walked over to them, “Ina… Mrs Thoreson, has been visiting us for years. She was the one who found us the gentleman from Freedos who taught us the signs. And she learned along with me. She’s been a wonderful support and Emma adores her. Hi Ina.”

Mrs Thoreson finished her sign sentence and then smiled at Esther, “Hello my dear,” she said, “nice to see you. And who are your new friends?”

Lilian snapped out of her daze and resumed her duties, “Oh! Sorry, Mrs Thoreson, this is Serena Bellaswan and Peter Sturgeon. Friends of mine from Freedos.” Serena and Peter curtsied and bowed respectively, respectfully.

Mrs Thoreson smiled and nodded slightly, “a swan and a fish, far from their lake. You’re welcome both, I hope you enjoy these waters while you stay. Now, Miss Lausanne,” she turned a slightly more severe stare towards Lilian who felt her heart freeze. “Back so many days and not so much as a visit? It’s almost as if you’ve been preoccupied by a mad preacher bent on taking over the town.”

Lilian gave her a wan smile. She’d heard the joke, but could sense the rebuke there as well. “I’m sorry Mrs Thoreson,” she said bowing her head, “It’s true I’ve been distracted, but that’s no excuse.”

The old woman came close to Lilian and for a moment it looked as though she was about to strike her, Lilian even flinched a little when she raised her arm. Instead Mrs Thoreson’s frown turned into another smile and her hand came up to Lilian’s arm to give her a friendly squeeze.

“Worry not little Lausanne, it is a Nocta’s duty to protect her family, not visit old women. As I said though, we should speak. I notice my nephew is not skulking around. Where is Mr Mysterious?”

There was a pause. Lilian’s suspicions were confirmed. She didn’t know and it would be up to Lilian to explain everything. Mrs Thoreson studied her face and then looked at everyone else. “Oh…” she said, “I see.” Then after a moment she followed with, “Was it that Fenric fellow?” the knot in her throat was making it hard for Lilian to speak, and so she just nodded. Mrs Thoreson breathed in deeply, “then this is more urgent than I had thought. Lilian, would you come back to my home? Your friends are welcome to join us. There is much we need to discuss.”

Half an hour later Lilian, Peter, Serena and Mrs Thoreson were all sitting in the Thoreson house library. Mr Stepson, the man who looked after the house, had lit a fire, prepared a meal and made up rooms for both Peter and Serena to use during their time in Benlunar. During dinner they had told Mrs Thoreson everything that had happened in the cave under the marsh. It was clear to Lilian that she kept her emotions in check, in the way that her generation had been taught to do. Lilian knew that they would both grieve in their own way and in their own time. Mrs Thoreson had many questions but it wasn’t until after dinner when they were all sitting by the fire in large and comfortable armchairs that Mrs Thoreson brought up the reason for their summons.

The old woman was sitting in a large green, leather clad armchair on the right side of the fire. Fritha, who had taken an instant liking to her, was curled up by her feet and Mrs Thoreson occasionally reached down to touch the feinhound’s head while she spoke. The sun had long gone and the room was lit by candles and the dancing flames of the fire.

“Lilian,” Mrs Thoreson’s voice grew suddenly serious, “it is my belief that we are not the first town to be visited by Sage Fenric and his twisted trio. I have been observing them as I know you have and it seems that they have a well practised routine. They are like a parasite, living off a host town and draining it of its vitality with their insidious promises. For them, the process is all going to plan. I also suspected they had something on their side that is more than human. People are not so quickly swayed, but there are beings out there that have that power. Now, after your story of the underground church,” she glanced over at Serena and Peter, “I am more sure of this.” Mrs Thoreson then looked into the fire and her hand absentmindedly went to Fritha’s ears. The light of the flames flickered across the cracks and wrinkles around her eyes. It illuminated a tired sadness there, as if a weight was pulling her down into the ash. Lilian noticed a glaze come over her eyes. “I never dreamed I would have to train another. But I can see no other way. Cromwell was a great student, but I failed him.” Lilian shifted her weight and was about to open her mouth to protest when she was cut off, “it’s alright, Lilian. I know Cromwell was a clever man. He would have known the risks. It’s up to us now to make sure that he did not die for nothing. If you are still willing to learn, I will teach you everything I know.”

Lilian smiled, it was nice to find another ally. With Peter and Serena and now Mrs Thoreson joining the fight, things did not seem so hopeless. “Thank you, Mrs Thoreson,” she said, “I should like to learn all that I can. Mr A… Cromwell taught me so much and I’ve even developed my own techniques in gloaming.”

Mrs Thoreson smiled, “Gloaming,” she repeated, “I like that.”

“He taught me to fight as well,” Lilian continued, “although I learned a lot in Zandt last year too. I trained with a master of Atarap and I got a tattoo using lunar essence and some earth from the demon world.”

At this, Mrs Thoreson raised her eyebrow, “a tattoo? Show me.” She reached out a hand and beckoned Lilian over to her. Lilian obediently stood up and was half way over to her when she remembered that the tattoo was not actually visible. She pulled her sleeve up regardless.

“You can’t actually see it all the time,” she said pointing the spot on her forearm where the tattoo of the moon and the mountain would be, “but it comes up here when I sometimes practise gloaming. But it makes me very tired and it hurts a lot and I can’t do it all the time. In fact I’ve only done it about four times and only once… properly. And it’s not just the tattoo that appears, I sort of change. I look different and I see everything differently. It’s like…” She had trouble finding the words to describe the strange world and feelings she experienced when the tattoo began to shine.

Mrs Thoreson stroked her wrist and examined the area. She attempted to finish Lilian’s sentence, “like the night is a house and you can see all the doors and rooms at once.”

Lilian nodded, “yes, exactly. But I can also be in the rooms or skip through the walls if I wanted. It’s strange…”

Mrs Thoreson looked up at Lilian and a cheeky grin began to spread across her face. She looked like Emma after she had stolen a fourth bite of sweet pastry. “Strange… but good, yes?” She said.

Lilian could not help but laugh and nod, “yes. It feels powerful.”

Mrs Thoreson dragged Lilian’s sleeve back over her arm and tapped the back of her hand with her fingers, “you have skipped ahead a little,” she said again with that jokingly reprimanding tone, “but we have a lot to work with. The tattoo method I do not know, but if it works, it works.” She shrugged and pointed Lilian back to her chair. “Now,” she changed her tone and turned her attention to Serena and Peter who were slipping further into the comfort of their armchairs, their eyelids drooping, “you two.” They both snapped to attention, “what will you be doing? I take it you are here to help yes?” Serena and Peter looked at each other and then back to Mrs Thoreson. They nodded. “Good,” said Mrs Thoreson, “then what can you do? Hm? Are you fighters? Musicians? What?”

Serena shifted uneasily in her seat, “well, Mr Attorcop was teaching us to fight a little. But I wouldn’t trust myself to take on anyone with lots of experience.” She looked at Peter.

“Oh same. I can’t throw a punch to save my life. I’m an alright cook though. And I know my way about medicine and chemicals. I’ve been helping my mum in her shop since I were wee.”

Serena, not one to be outdone, added an addendum, “I play music, and I can sing and act as well. I embroider, paint and can keep up with most any of the modern dances.”

Peter shook his head, “I cannot dance.”

Mrs Thoreson smiled, “Excellent. We have the making of quite a team here. Lilian, you will join me by the Padda Stone at sunrise every morning until you are ready. You, Serena, you will make it your business to meet everyone in Benlunar. I want to be able to say a name and for you to tell me their life story, you understand?” Serena looked confused, but nodded all the same. “Peter, you will explore the forests and mountains. You must know this part of the world like the back of your hand, even better than Lilian here, yes? We are high up so a lot of plant life survives the cold. Find anything useful. If you don’t know what something can do, test it to find out, or ask the locals.” Peter looked over at Lilian and shrugged.

“Mrs Thoreson,” Lilian interjected timidly, “Thank you so much for helping us but… we actually have a mission from Cromwell, we think it might be a way to defeat Sage Fenric.” Mrs Thoreson raised one eyebrow as she watched Lilian take the scrap of parchment from her pocket and flatten it out on the small side table beside her. Mrs Thoreson leaned over and read it by the light of the lamp.

Serena, Peter and Lilian waited with baited breath while the old woman read the note. After a few seconds Lilian could have sworn she saw Mrs Thoreson roll her eyes before standing up and going over to a big book shelf in the corner of the room. She studied the old, leather bound tomes there for just a moment before gesturing for Peter to join her.

“That one, there please Peter.” She pointed up to a grey book spine with black lettering that was a little too high up for her to reach. Peter kindly got the book out and passed it to her. “Here we are,” she said, bringing it over to the others. Fritha’s tail began to beat against the floor as she returned. “This is The Model Ship, by Theobald Dermador.” She sat back down and passed the book to Serena, “I suggest you read it quickly. There is a character called Tellis but I read it so long ago that I cannot remember what happens to them.” Serena took the book from her and gave Lilian a wide smile. It had barely been a day and they already had the solution to the second clue in their hands.

“Perhaps I should…” Lilian wanted to suggest that she read the book, seeing as the message was meant for her, but Mrs Thoreson shot her a severe look.

“No time. You have too much to do. This message from my nephew will be important, but you will need to rely on your friends to solve it.” Lilian felt a pang of anger. That message was her last link to her friend, it was something he had expressly wanted to get to her. She was not about to let it go so easily. Mrs Thoreson must have sensed her frustration, “There will be time enough for riddles. But the next few days will be crucial in the fight for Benlunar’s survival. Knowledge is one thing,” she gestured to the piece of parchment, “but it is useless without the strength to act on it. You will require both knowledge and strength as well as a mastery of your emotions if you wish to defeat this Fenric man and whatever it is he serves.” Her expression then softened somewhat, “Grief will not be neglected my dear. He might have left a thousand notes and there will still come a time when you finish reading the final one. The quicker we process his passing, the quicker we will be of use to Benlunar.”

A strange feeling washed over Lilian then. It was an oddly familiar sensation, like she’d been in this room having this conversation once before. She realised then that this felt like talking to Mr Attorcop. He was able to guide her through Kilde’s death and now here she was, years later, being guided in a similar way. Had she learned so little in those years? Or had she simply chosen to forget?

Lilian nodded. It was true, there were greater things at stake here and the riddle would be solved quicker if they separated and worked on it individually rather than traipsing around town together like a three headed monster and each taking the time to read a single book.

“I understand,” Lilian stood up and turned towards the door, “I’ll see you at the Padda stone at sunrise. Good night everyone. And thank you for your help.”

The next morning Lilian arrived at the Padda Stone just as the sun was brightening the cloudless sky. It was cold and she wore her thickest winter coat and had woollen leggings on beneath her fur lined trousers. After the short trek up the hill her breath hung heavy in the air in bouts of vapour clearly visible in the crisp winter air. Fritha was beside her, happily dipping in and out of deep snow, her coat a dark blue with patches of deep yellow. Her slitted golden eyes were wide with the anticipation of catching breakfast and as they approached the pools and ponds around the Padda Stone she looked out from the frozen blades of grass and into the inky waters hoping to catch sight of a fish. Lilian looked up at the Padda Stone, coated in the golden light of dawn. The stone toad’s serene expression reminded her to relax. She found a flat rock and sat down cross legged to wait for Mrs Thoreson. Slowly she began to get her breathing under control and once her heart rate was at a more manageable pace she closed her eyes and focused on the sounds around her. The mountain birds were waking up and the soft trickle of water could still be heard from beneath the ice. In no time she could sense the world around her and she found that mysterious golden light inside of her chest that she knew could be used for gloaming. She decided not to guide it to anywhere outside of her and instead chose to examine it for a while. It shone brightly and pulsated a little with every heartbeat. It was a beautiful thing and Lilian took the opportunity to enjoy being with it in this way for a while.

After some time she decided to open her eyes, she must have sensed something close by because when she did she almost jumped with shock. Mrs Thoreson was in front of her, not two steps away bending down and looking at her. Had she really been focusing on the light that much? Even when in focus she had not heard Mrs Thoreson approach.

“Good posture, nice breathing. He taught you about the light yes?” There was no ‘good morning, how are you?’ They were straight in. Lilian nodded. “Fine fine. Show me.”

Lilian was confused. “Show you… what?”

“Show me some gloaming. Turn this water into ice.” She pointed to the space on the little lake behind her that had yet to be frozen over.

Lilian was taken aback, “what? I can’t do that.”

“Fine,” replied Mrs Thoreson, “what can you do?”

Lilian thought for a moment before calling Fritha over to her with a sharp whistle. The feinhound came bounding out of a nearby shrub with a mouse in her teeth. Lilian watched her gulp it down in a few quick movements of her jaws and head. When the feinhound was by her side Lilian put her hand on her back and felt one of her hairs between her fingers. Then she closed her eyes and brought her attention back to the light inside her. It wasn’t too hard to find, seeing as she had just been focusing on it a moment ago. Then as she had done countless times before, she let the light go through her fingers and into the hair just a small amount before calling it back to her. She let the new light mingle with her own and felt a vibrant energy bounce around inside of her. When she opened her eyes she looked at her hands and saw that she was invisible.

Mrs Thoreson nodded but did not look very impressed, “that took quite a long time. And you need Fritha with you to do it. But it’s good that you can keep your clothes on at least. Anything else?”

Lilian released the gloaming energy and saw her own colours and shapes wash back into reality about her. She was indignant, “anything else?” she repeated, “that took a long time to learn and it doesn’t always work, and…” she looked at Mrs Thoreson’s nonplussed expression and gave up protesting, “and no there’s nothing else. Well I can hear things very well, and I can smell better and I’m stronger as well when I manage to reabsorb just some of the light. And then there’s the glowing tattoo, night thing. I really should start giving these better names.”

Finally Lilian got a smile out of Mrs Thoreson. The old woman nodded and made her way to a squat rock about six feet away. She brushed the snow off it, turned around and sat down.

“Lilian, you’ve been practising… gloaming, for some time now, yes? And you are familiar with lunar essence as well. Have you ever wondered what connects these two things?” Lilian was slightly taken aback by the question.

“Well,” she mumbled, “not really. I mean, I always thought they were part of the same thing. You learn gloaming so that the essence doesn’t overwhelm you. Right?”

Mrs Thoreson shook her head. Lilian thought she heard a small tut there as well, “Typical Cromwell,” she said, “rushing to the practice before understanding the theory. It’s not quite that, my dear. What you call ‘gloaming’ is a very ancient practise that goes back many generations and is done all over the world by those willing to put in the time and energy to learn it. The basics are the same, but what each person does with them makes the art seem very different.” Lilian then watched in awe as Mrs Thoreson closed her eyes, took a quick, deep breath and lifted her right hand. In a matter of moments the snow around her melted away revealing bright green patches of grass that grew taller in just a few seconds. Wild flowers then began to appear all about, peppering colours of purple, yellow and blue amongst the greenery like fireflies in the dark. Lilian could sense warmth as well, like Spring and sprung too soon and only on this small pocket of the mountain. As Mrs Thoreson breathed out, the flowers wilted and were covered with snow once again. It was like they’d briefly awoken from a dream and were pulling the blanket of whiteness over them to block out the sun and go back to sleep. The warmness disappeared and they were back in winter. Lilian realised that her mouth was open.

Mrs Thoreson opened her eyes and smiled at Lilian’s expression, “When I was a girl,” she explained, “There was a terrible blight in this part of the world. Crops could not grow and people went hungry. I practised gloaming and became a Nocta so that I could help people. I learned to understand the earth and the air and how the seasons changed them. It took a long time, but I succeeded eventually. Many people died before I could help them and I will always regret that I could not get to their crops sooner. I tell you this because you are about to face a choice. Gloaming will give you the materials, but you must work the art. I think of it like sculpting. Anyone can pick up clay and put it in a kiln, but it takes time to shape it into something useful or beautiful.”

Lilian took it all in, thinking about her journey and encounters with magic so far. A question popped into her mind, “So what about lunar essence? How does that come into it?”

“Hmm,” Mrs Thoreson considered the question, “To know this, you must first realise that Lunar Essence is not the only kind of essence that exists in this world.” Lilian had come to that realisation on her own while she had been in Zandt, she told Mrs Thoreson about her time there and about how she encountered a place that might have been the source of solar essence. “Precisely,” Mrs Thoreson agreed, “I know of solar essence too, although it is far too destructive for my liking. I also know of ocean essence and forest essence although I suspect there are more. Someone who can use gloaming can use essence, the same techniques are used to tame the essence as they are to tame the light inside of you. The benefit of essence is that it is very powerful and very fast. But whereas your light can be used for most anything, essence can only be used within its realm.” Lilian crumpled her face in confusion. “Let me give you an example,” Mrs Thoreson continued, “If I wanted to summon an aspect of the night right now, here in the day, like say the light of the moon, I could practise for years with gloaming and eventually I might be able to get there. Or I could use lunar essence and have it here in just a few moments.”

Something clicked inside Lilian’s brain, “But essence is rare and gets used up!”

“Exactly,” Mrs Thoreson agreed, “So it’s best not to rely on essence. Cromwell was working on a way to make essence last for a long time and I think you may have stumbled on a way to do just that. Our work together will focus on how to access that essence inside of you quickly and efficiently as well as practise any other skills you will need for your fight against Fenric and his strange master.”

Lilian felt energised. She hopped off of her rock and smiled, “great!” she said, “how do I start?”

Mrs Thoreson chuckled, “like with so many things, we start with a choice.” The old woman turned to look up at the Padda Stone. It sat large and lonely across the semi frozen waters. Its serene smile reminding all who see it to relax and enjoy the mountain. Mrs Thoreson loved that smile and briefly shut her eyes and tried to copy it, finding familiar solace in the tumult of the times. There was a lot of work to do and it would take more than violence and magic to save Benlunar from this strange enemy.

Lilian wondered if Mrs Thoreson had forgotten to finish her point, “A choice?” she prompted.

Mrs Thoreson opened her eyes and turned back to Lilian, “Oh yes,” she said, opening her eyes, “a choice of what to focus on. A choice as to how we will spend our time. We can give you power, Lilian Lausanne, but you must choose what shape that power takes.” Mrs Thoreson turned to look at Lilian, a serious expression on her wrinkled, friendly face. “What do you wish to become Lilian Lausanne?”