Alrik

The flock of sheep grazed in the green meadow, herded together by a large white dog with a black muzzle and paws. The sheep had been shorn rather recently, so their soft fleece was no longer than a cow's fur.

I was sitting on a mossy rock where I could see the entire flock, and I had my stick to give commands with. I had been there since early in the morning, when Berth had brought me there to check on them, saying it was a big adult responsibility.

I was bored out of my mind.

The sheep did nothing but eat and poop, and the ones that started to wander off were herded back together by the dog before I could even get up. He was basically the only one doing the job, and I had done nothing but sit there until my ass started hurting. I should have figured it was just my brother trying to foist his job on me, and I had fallen for it.

As I watched the sheep, my eyes grew heavy and it became harder and harder to keep them open, until I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up, my father's bearded face was there, waiting, and blotting out the sun, looking down right at me. I sat up with a start, not realizing I was lying down, and looked at the flock, fearing something had happened, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. They didn't seem to have moved very far either.

"What are you doing here? Where is your brother?" my father asked.

"He told me to look after the sheep," I replied.

"What? I told him to do it," he said, starting to get angry, "do you have any idea where he could have gone?"

"No, not at all," I replied.

My father made a frustrated noise, "When he shows up, I'll make him pay for this."

I pulled back a little, and my father sighed when he noticed my reaction.

"I'm not mad at you, don't worry," he eased, more calmly. "It's not your fault that Berth convinced you to do his job."

"Well, it's boring," I said, almost as if to justify it, although I didn't know why.

My father half laughed and seemed to relax a little more.

"You're right, it's boring work, but it has to be done."

"Why? The dog seems perfectly capable of watching the sheep on his own," I said, pointing to the animal sitting in the grass.

"Sygymar has trained the dog well, but he can't decide for himself when or whether to move the animals, or when to bring them back. You can't just let the flock out to wander aimlessly with the dog as your only guide."

"But I don't know when or whether to move the animals or when they should be brought back," I pointed out.

"And your brother will answer for that, too," my father said. "I came to fetch him. My mother wanted to talk to him."

"Grandma wants to talk to him?"

"She actually asked about you too. I would have looked for you after Berth."

"And the sheep?"

"For now, Comargos will take care of them. Come on, let's go."

I climbed down from the rock, almost falling over because of my sleeping legs. Then my father took my hand and together we started to climb. Behind us, Magnerich's son, who despite only being a little older than Berth was almost as tall as his father, sat down where I was sitting and began to check on the sheep.

Grandma's hut was high up, far from all the other houses of the clan, and as always it was tiring to walk to. In some places you had to climb stairs that my father had carved out of the mountain himself, and you could make them out by how lighter they were than the surrounding rock.

I quickly got tired, but I tried in every way not to show it. My father was carrying a sack on his back that probably contained supplies, so I didn't want him to see that I was tired just from walking on my own. However, when we reached the coniferous forest and the climb became less steep I couldn't hide my sigh of relief, which I was sure my father noticed.

We were close to the highest point of the clan's internal territory, although on the other side of the mountain were the territories of another clan. From there it was possible to see the entire valley, with the fields, the huts, the pastures and the fence that from here was little more than a thin line, but also beyond the immense green mosaic of the almost uninterrupted forest, which was closed by another chain of hills. On the other side the landscape was not much different, but the hill was much steeper and what closed the forest were not rocky hills but real mountains, whose peaks were covered in snow.

On the other side of those mountains it was said that there were lands inhabited by monsters, like the one that had killed Uncle Aghiard.

At a certain point we met Wallia, bent over while picking a bunch of mushrooms. When he saw us he stood and headed towards us, holding a basket full of forest forageables. He was tall, and over his green tunic he wore a goatskin coat that made him look bigger than he was, since the wind was always strong there. He had a handsome face with an unfinished beard, and many said he looked a lot like his late father, although I had never seen him.

"Where is Berth?" he asked my father, who snorted in annoyance in response.

"I have no idea. He dumped his chores on Alrik and went somewhere."

Wallia's face darkened at the news, and I felt a shiver down my spine.

"Maybe it wasn't the right time to disappear."

"Is she that sick?" my father asked, alarmed.

"You be the judge," he said, before turning and walking up the path.

Wallia accompanied us the rest of the way to his cabin, which was well hidden among the fir trees. It was a small house, made of logs and with a thatched roof that was billowing smoke. From up close you could see that the holes between the logs were filled with mud and moss and there were only two narrow windows to let light in.

When we entered we were assailed by a mixture of pungent smells of smoke, herbs, food and something unpleasant I couldn't identify. The single room was small, perhaps half the size of my house, but with two beds, a table and a shelf lined with dishes. In the center burned a fireplace above which was a large pot boiling, and from the beams hung bunches of herbs left to dry.

Beyond the fireplace was the bed, on the opposite side of the house from the entrance. Lying in it, you could only see my grandmother's head, while the rest of her was hidden under multiple layers of blankets, even though the inside of the house was much warmer than the outside forest.

Wallia took off his coat and began chopping mushrooms, while my father and I went to her bedside. Her face was sunken, her skin so thin it looked as if you could run your finger over it too hard and tear it. Her long, brittle white hair fell in disarray onto the pillow, and her body smelled of illness.

"Who is it?" she asked in a small voice, her white-clouded eyes looking to us.

"It's me, Mammaz. I have Alrik here with me," my father said loudly.

"Where's Berth?" she asked.

"He'll be here later," he told her, omitting the fact that he hadn't been able to find him.

Grandma gave a tiny nod before turning her face up again.

"I need to talk to Alrik alone. Please leave me alone with him," she said.

"Y-yes. Okay," my father said.

My father and Wallia looked at each other for a moment. Wallia put the mushrooms and chopped herbs into the cauldron and my father joined him, but they both stayed in the hut. Grandma was silent for a while, then said, "I know you're still there. Get out!"

They were both taken aback and looked embarrassed, but finally they both left, closing the door behind them. Even if they had stayed outside the door or gone around to try to hear, I doubted they would succeed. They had already heard Grandma's scolding while standing by the fireplace.

"They're gone," I told her.

"Good." Grandma took a deep breath, trying to gather the energy to speak. "Listen, I'll be leaving soon."

"No, Grandma, that's not true," I said, even though she was clearly not well.

"You know it's true. My time is running out."

"But you're a ha... you can use magic, everyone has seen it. You have to do... something," I said, feeling more and more scared.

"You can't prolong your life indefinitely," she said, her voice growing tired. "I've had a good life anyway. There's no point in prolonging it any longer, I intend to leave with dignity."

My vision blurred and tears began to roll down my face. My nose clogged and I could feel my breath catching, but a shaking hand wiped my face, forcing me to look at my grandmother again.

"When… I looked into the web of fate, I saw many things. What I saw became blurred, but now… now that I'm getting closer to death I can remember something."

"W-what?" I asked, a lump in my throat. What she was saying didn't make any sense to me, but I kept listening.

"When I die… bad things will happen. But always remember that… even in the worst times there will always be people… who love you." My grandmother paused to take long, hard breaths, but just as I thought she was done she started again. "Please, if I don't make it in time… tell Berth that a person's value… is not their role in destiny.”

"I-I'll tell him," I promised.

"Now, you can let them back in," she murmured.

I nodded, but my legs didn't move. Instead I clung to that frail hand, as if to try to anchor it somehow to life.

And I cried.