Abi lay on her bed staring at the patterns in the wood on the ceiling, waiting for the sun to rise just enough that it would be reasonable for her to get up.

Most of the patterns were just the nature of the wood beams, while some of the others were water damage. One day the whole roof would have to be replaced, the damp wood retired and replaced with new.

This was a very old house, one of the oldest in the village, passed down to her father from his mother and back to the first generations of Hulna. Which meant most of the wood had been god blessed and had lasted thousands of years, with the exception of the roof as the house had been expanded to include a second floor and an attic.

It had been built in a very old style that only matched a few other buildings in Hulna. All the later buildings had been built to match but never quite succeeded.

Most of the house still smelled of the forest on a fresh spring day, although her room had started to smell more like the decaying wood you could find in the diseased parts of the forest. If she kept the window closed the stale air would build up to become unbearable.

The early morning light streamed through the open window where Abi hadn't closed the curtains the night before. A breeze ruffled the curtains and gave the room a chill that her sister would have complained about, if she hadn't gotten married and moved out a year earlier.

The other bed still sat there, the blankets folded neatly and the pillows unused, as far away from the window as possible, because her sister had hated being woken by the light in summer. A dresser sat next to the bed where her sister had left behind the things she had outgrown.

Whereas Abi’s bed was as close to the window as possible, so she knew when it was a reasonable hour to get up, either by the early risers going about their business outside or by which particular patterns she could see on the ceiling.

She also liked the silvery moonlight streaming into her room so when she woke up in the middle of the night she could trace the patterns on the ceiling, before falling back to sleep.

Abi had never been able to sleep very well, or at all on some nights. Last night had been one of those times when she was plagued with insomnia.

Her thoughts had raced all night and she had second guessed everything she had done the previous day. Had she done enough to help? Were her stitches good enough? The only thing she thought she was certain of was that it was time to leave.

It was still strange to wake in a room that was all hers. The other bed still sat there with no purpose and the room still contained her elder sister's belongings.

She should be glad she no longer had to share with her sisters. Growing up the house had been crowded, but had felt like home. Now it felt empty, despite five people still living there.

Her younger sister was going to be married soon and then she'd only have one sister left, who would also get married in the next few years. She would be the only one of her siblings left. Her parents wouldn't kick her out, but she didn't want to stay either.

She ran a brush lightly through her hair, there was no point trying to untangle the deep knots, and tied it back so it wouldn't be in her face when travelling. No one had said she couldn't volunteer to go with Lyssa and trader Rithrin, so she was taking the absence of being told no as permission. It was the best way really, because otherwise she'd never be allowed to do anything.

That was another worry that had kept her up most of the night. She wanted to do this but she didn't want to have to fight with her family to get to do it. Not that there would be an actual fight, but her father would look so disappointed and they'd all worry how dangerous this was going to be.

He wanted her to find her place in the village and settle down with either a man or a woman and start a family of her own. That had been something she had wanted too, before she had failed to become an apprentice with any of the masters.

The only thing she was good at was healing, but she hadn't been deemed suitable for the profession. No one trusted her to see a job through to the end or stay on task without supervision. They weren’t exactly wrong considering her track record, but no one had given her a chance either.

On this journey she would be able to prove she was a reliable and capable healer. They were bound to need someone who knew how to take care of wounds, even if there was no fighting it was a long and dangerous road through the wilds.

She chose her best pair of leather boots, the ones she wore when she knew she would be on her feet all day. She mostly wore them during the winter light festival, when they spent the longest night bringing light and warmth to the woods.

The clothes she chose were practical and light. A green tunic with a blue rope belt tied over it, both had been presents from her brother on different occasions, and a pair of leggings that were almost new and would be the least likely to wear through.

It was still summer and being out in the sun at midday would get really hot. She preferred to wear skirts or dresses, but she needed to be able to move if they were attacked, and she was trying to show how responsible she could be. She packed a spare change of clothes at the bottom of her bag but ruthlessly left behind everything else that wouldn't be useful.

No one was around when she headed downstairs so she put some fruit in the bag and took a couple of water skins that she would fill up at the well. She wouldn't take water from the house and create more work for her family.

Trying to avoid her family proved futile, when her mother was at the center of the village organising the injured, and helping prepare for the journey ahead.

Abi bypassed the people and the tents on the green and went straight to the tree at the heart of their community.

Maro was taller and broader than all the other trees surrounding the village. The trunk was thick enough that you would need several people to circle it completely, and the lowest branch too high for anyone to reach on their own. The branches spread out giving shelter to the center of the village and even some of the houses.

The trees only grew this big if you journeyed to the swamp or mountains. Any place that no one had settled or disturbed the ground. They were lucky to have Maro and they took good care of it. It's big roots held the village together and spread across the green going deeper and deeper until they were below every house in the community.

When Maro wilted it was a sign that the year to come would be bad. Some people could tell what exactly would happen, whether they needed to be extra careful with the harvest, or wait to plant until after floods.

There were stories of Maro giving dire warnings about fires that swept through the forest, and storms that lasted weeks, but they were all hundreds of years before her time. No one alive today had witnessed these things.

As children, it had been a favourite game to pretend Maro was speaking to them and telling them how to protect the village. She'd believed she could hear the tree whispering to her, but as she grew older she learned that the other children were just pretending, and talking to Maro was something only children or the very strange did. She found the only acceptable times were during festivals and when tending to the tree.

She sat at the base between the large roots and stroked a hand down the trunk. She rarely got to sit here unless she was pretending to do something else, but with the tents blocking her from view she could be as strange as she wanted to and no one would know.

She watched the people from between the tents as they went about their business. The warmth she felt under her hand changed in a way she couldn't describe but always meant someone was approaching.

Her mother appeared dressed more formally than she usually did with her hair bound tightly at the top of her head. She was the only one who never minded Abi's strangeness, probably because she was strange herself.

Her mother sat on a large root and Abi placed her head on the older woman’s lap. Fingers ran through her hair, finding the tangles and picking at knots. She had inherited her mother’s hair, and out of all her siblings only her brother had as well, but he kept his hair cut short. He’d probably shave his head completely if his husband would allow it.

"I knew I'd find you with Maro." Her mother said.

"I'm just waiting." Abi kept her gaze focused on the root, her fingers tracing the grain of the wood.

"You don't have to hide. You can go wait with the others."

"I like it here."

"I know, but you might like other places better." Her mother said it gently, and as more of a suggestion than assurance, but if anyone would know what it was like to find her place somewhere far from home it was her.

"They probably don't need me. What if I can't help and I just make things worse?"

Her mother stopped her before Abi could list everything that could possibly go wrong. She made Abi sit up and took her daughter’s face in her hands.

"You are a very skilled healer and will be a great asset on the journey. It doesn't matter if you weren't chosen to be an apprentice, and it doesn't matter if those people appreciate your help. All that matters is you tried to help.” Her mother released Abi from her intense gaze. “Also please return in one piece, your father will kill me if anything happens to you."

"That doesn't sound like father."

"Slow to anger, but it does happen." She stood up and looked back at Abi. "You should say goodbye to him before you leave."

“I’m coming back.” Abi protested.

Her mother’s only answer was a small, sad smile before she turned away.