Chapter 7 | Only the Bluebells

   Asena had never paid much attention to prayers nor attended any gatherings held by the Temple. As a rule, the Spiros avoided the Temple. As a rule, Asena avoided spending time better used elsewhere. She was made to believe in one thing that went against all that is the Lucian Temple.

   Light is born in every soul.

   Though history could not back this up, the belief was strong amongst the duchy. The fief was older than the empire, and the origin of the light present was before the age of man.

   It would be of no surprise to her if her research came up with a similar finding as to the duchy’s beliefs.

   She followed quietly at the end of the parade.

   The air around her turned from decay, fire, and salt to a sweet, refreshing, and intoxicating perfume.

   They were now in Hallerbos.

   As if they'd been holding their breaths, the people heaved a sigh of relief. The smell and being surrounded by the flowers released the tensions on their bodies. 

   Their steps were lighter. The few children were no longer tethered to their parents. And the elderly were allowed to step off the cart for a bit of a stretch.

   Still, they continued to follow the lord, now with renewed energy, and readily whispered with their neighbors.

   "We are at war with our own."

   Asena eavesdropped on the conversation of the two knights she was with before.

   "I never thought it would be this bad. When the Duke ordered us to escort Lord Aleksi back, I didn't think we'd have to kill innocent people along the way."

   "Where else did you go?" Asena intervened.

   "Craydon, my lady, and Marrens Eve."

   "At least, we got to rest at Marrens Eve, for a night."

   "Oh yeah. They were alright."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Only some were infected, my lady. When we arrived, they had them neutralized already and barred entry. It wasn't until Sir Panu suggested we stay at the outer inn, unattended did we get to stay."

   "Didn't we promise to send supplies?"

   "I heard, Sir Panu instructed them to go to Haerford."

   "Hmm..." was all Asena responded.

   What made Marrens Eve different from Craydon, Orkney, and Hempholme? All four towns were under the rule of Aleksi and all thrived through the exports of goods. Merchants went in and out.

   Craydon specialized in the export of textiles.

   Orkney exported knights and mercenaries.

   Hempholme traded in fish, grain, and weaponry depending on the tides.

   Marrens Eve focused on their gardens and abundance of flowers.

   Asena made mental notes.

   Both Hempholme and Marrens Eve were built on blessed lands, but one was recently abandoned while the other remained standing.

   "Surely, there–"

   "My lady, we are here."

   She'd been lost in her thought that she hadn't realized they'd arrived at the promised meadow.

   Like the rest of the forest, the meadow too was flooded by bluebells, but the smell was stronger, unrivaled by the sent of wood and moss.

   "Men, set up camp!"

   Manny directed several knights with jasper gems encrusted on their vambraces, gauntlets, and sabatons.

   One by one, they disturbed the serene meadow and erected mud walls.

   The people of Hempholme shouted in displeasure and directly called out the Marquess. Elder Monik sang like a cardinal. This quieted the anger to a whisper.

   "My apologies," Aleksi bowed. "I did not consider how you would feel." He raised a hand to halt the work being done.

   Manny was forced to direct his men away from the wreckage. Only then, when he stepped back from the meadow did he see what he'd done.

   Truly, it was hideous. Desecration of the utmost. Mud-laden mounds and wilted flowers lay scattered across the once beautiful meadow.

   "Asena," the young lord shouted from the front, "will you do us the honor of taking on this job as well."

   Asena shrugged.

   She released the pentagram that had been glowing from her vambrace not a second ago. The horse that held her cart neighed loudly as the weight of the load took it down. Surprised, the knight-errant behind fabricated support at the connection. This seemed to be of help.

   Meanwhile, Asena had taken to creating a new pentagram as she stood at the center of the meadow. As if on command, the wind picked up. Asena took to the flow, dancing at certain points of her magical circle drawn on the soil.

   The ground rumbled and the flowers shook. The scent they emitted wafted into the air more clearly.

   From the ground, mud walls erupted along with strings of roots with bluish dots. A second passed then another and each dot turned to bulbs then turned to blooms. Even the mud walls the knights created were wrapped in bluebells as if the walls had been there for years.

   Four roofless structures now stood cleanly at the center of the meadow, covered only by growing flora.

   "The knights in one. Two for the people. We'll leave the very center for kitchen prep. Unpack. Relax. Commanders, with me on the empty one."

   Asena waited for a disturbance, for a breath of decay to drift in, or a rustle to break the calm, but nothing came. The quake of the earth and the sound of people were not enough to beckon the presence of the undead.

   It is truly blessed land.