His pace gradually slowed until he came to a complete stop. "Alright Polaris," he said, turning to his trusty pure white mare, "I'm gonna need a lift home." She stood respectfully still as he climbed onto her back. He patted her neck and said, "Alright, let's go." He then pulled a large, rustic book out of his satchel. There's got to be something in here to help me heal my mother, he thought, examining the cover yet again. It was the most he could find on his short quest into town that unusually warm evening in March. But I'll have to wait until I get home to look for it.
He put the book back in the satchel and patted Polaris's neck. "That's a good girl," he sighed. He noticed the bare skin on his right forearm - a consistent reminder that he didn't fit in. Just today he'd been bugged about it.
"You seem like a devoted Miran," Tether Trinken had said, "I never understood why you haven't gotten your mark yet. What's keeping you?"
He had knocked on the Trinkens' door looking for Dittany, a wise old resourceful woman. He instead found himself stuck talking with Tether, her granddaughter. For over an hour.
He shifted in his chair. "Well," he answered, "it's not that I don't want one. It's a spiritually beautiful symbol and I would wear it with pride. It's just - I don't know for sure that it's meant for me."
"Well why wouldn't it be?" Tether countered, "Viggo, you're over thinking it! Like you over think a lot of things. Sometimes in life you just have to make that leap, take that chance! You know what you want, and you have to pursue it!"
He had a nagging feeling that she wasn't just talking about getting his mark anymore. He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, and started to open his mouth, though he wasn't sure what to say. But she released him from that burden by speaking again herself.
"Really Viggo, it's not so complicated. Do you want to follow Gadriel?"
"Yes, of course," he answered.
"Then make that commitment and dedicate yourself to live that new life. You've got a whole journey ahead of you, and getting your mark is the first step."
"I don't know," he said, resolving to make his feelings understood, if possible. "I guess the way it feels to me, is that I've been on this journey already for as long as I can remember. Some people know exactly when and where in their life they decided to live for Gadriel. But I feel like Gadriel has been my friend all my life, since I was a small child. So if I get my mark, it won't mean to me what it's supposed to mean. I'm always learning and becoming more of the person I should be. So where can I draw the line where my journey begins and how can a new life mark be the first step in my journey?"
"You're over thinking it," she said again, "If nothing else, we get our mark to show that we have taken that first step. Like me: I got mine when I was 13--" she pushed her hair back to reveal her mark-- "but I was ready to get it when I was younger than that. And I would have if someone qualified had been available to give me my mark. So when I was able to get it, it was a symbol of the step I had already taken before I got it. You see what I mean? But there's no reason you need to put it off for so long. I don't know anyone else your age who doesn't have their mark."
I am aware, he thought.
"Besides," she teased, "how are you going to get a devoted Miran woman if she doesn't know you're a devoted Miran man?"
"I don't think I should get my mark for the girls," he answered.
"Oh I was only joking!" Tether said, "I don't mean that you should get it to impress the ladies. Though what I said was true."
Viggo politely laughed, since she said she was joking. "It's a good thing I'm not exactly trying to get a woman then," he snickered.
She narrowed her eyes, and he sensed trouble. "So are you sure your grandmother's coming back soon?" he quickly changed the subject to the question he'd been wondering the whole time he'd been Tether's captive audience. "I've been here for over an hour now, and I think I really need that book she talked about lending me."
It wasn't long after that Dittany came in and rescued him, but not before Tether had insisted she would pay him and his mother a visit tomorrow. Tether wasn't so bad, he thought as he rode homeward. She was generous and energetic and could even be sweet. But while he was willing to call her a friend, he didn't feel that she was any kind of real kindred spirit to him. He couldn't let his guard down and really be himself around her without feeling misunderstood. In fact, the only place he felt truly safe to do that was at home with his mother, which made him feel a little pathetic sometimes when he "over thought" it. He realized Tether might have been half right about him being an over thinker.
As far as being more than friends, which she seemed to have been fishing for to one extent or another for some time now - Viggo just didn't know for sure that it was meant for him. If there was anyone for him, he figured, it would be someone more like his mother, someone who understood him and his convictions, who he could freely talk with about deep things, about the things that matter most - and not in the form of an argument. He had watched the way his parents interacted throughout his life, and he felt sure it wouldn't be necessary for him to repeat their mistakes. But most likely, he figured, he'd just be a loner for the rest of his life anyway and there'd never be anyone who would even tempt him to depart from that path.
The road began to curve around the woods and he remembered he needed to go through them instead to pick up some wild herbs on the way home. As he dismounted where the trees began, Polaris happily started snatching grass and weeds with her big mouth, and was overjoyed to discover wild raspberry bushes. Farlen, the frisky grandson of Viggo's childhood dog, zealously followed every scent and sound remotely near his master's path. Viggo quickly noticed some athelas before any of the other herbs he had in mind and began to gather. He was in somewhat of a hurry, as he had meant to get home to his mother earlier and darkness would be falling soon, especially here in the woods. Still, his mind wandered back to his deeper thoughts while he wandered deeper into the woods.
Being such a loner - it didn't mean he never wished there could be a companion for him in life - a true soulmate to share in every joy and sorrow, to lighten the burden and brighten the future. It just didn't seem like something he could count on. No girl he'd ever met felt like that friend to him, and here he was 23 now. While young people around him seemed all too willing to experiment with each other and make a fun game out of their own feelings and the feelings of others, he had always sought only simple, straightforward, and caring friendships and believed that if someone was meant to be more than that to him, they would both be able to figure it out without trying to. That's what his mother said too.
But it was still confusing. The connection his parents shared seemed truly special - like destiny had created them for each other and set them on paths to cross in just the right time and way, so that there was no question about whether it was meant to be. But that didn't end well. Then again, even now, having been separated for three years and divided at heart for longer than that, his parents each still loved no one else and each still waited for the other to change. Not the ideal relationship, but special it remained in the mind of their only son. Still he would avoid that kind of relationship like the plague.
Then there was his baby sister. He still remembered holding her when he was hardly bigger than she was. But even at the age of three, he was old enough to understand that he was no longer the baby and that she was, that he was a big brother now and as such it was his duty to protect her and keep her safe and loved. And he was all too happy to do that duty, even when she pulled his little brown locks. He held her hand when she was learning to walk and told her she could do it. Of course their parents were involved in the walking lessons, but it felt so important to Viggo at the time, he always remembered his part.
As much as he was always willing to slow down to her pace and help her do things, she often fought for any chance to do things "all by herself" instead. Ajnin would quickly climb all the way up to the top of the play tower to announce, "I'm the king! I'm the king!" while Viggo would lag behind his bestie to hold out his hand to Drea, saying, "Okay, now you get on this...." When she learned to talk well enough, one of her favorite phrases was, "I know! I don't need help!" She once climbed up to the top of the tower and promptly fell off, but her dad was there to catch her. If he hadn't, if they'd been allowed to play on it without supervision, her injuries would have been more serious than the small splinter her mama pulled out of her cheek. But Drea Grace seemed completely oblivious to such facts of life, particularly if it meant being any less wild.
By the time she was 16, she was still restless as ever and wanted to be a grownup. She had risen to the distinguished role of sewing expert in the family, contributing to the cashmere business. Viggo was 19 and took after both his father and mother as a tender of goats as well as a skillful healer. He remained at home as many young people did, seeing no need to leave the family of his childhood when he wasn't preparing to start a new family too soon. But he had grown independent, even had his own goats that he had raised from birth, and worked hard to create cashmere, contributing to his own living and that of his family.
Drea was much less content than he was though, especially when she realized her father wasn't planning to get her a horse like he had done for Viggo when he turned 16. Before Viggo's white mare, the family had lived with only one horse all along - Hapak's horse, the family horse. He told his daughter that her brother was a man, and would need a horse because one day he too would be the head of his own family, and he needed to be independent. That answer didn't go over well with Drea. She tried arguing for a while, which actually worked for her oftentimes, but not this time. So she found her own way.
It wasn't Viggo's idea to be the privileged one in the situation, and he knew his little sister wanted a horse more than anything. So when she came to him asking a favor, he couldn't refuse. During the next several months as she happily spun and wove and sewed like never before, Hapak was happy that she had quit arguing with him and had finally contented herself with her circumstances. But Epifany sensed early on that the peace was too good to be true - not in their home. Soon Viggo explained to her that Drea was working for him, helping him get ahead on his cashmere production, and that he was paying her a portion of the proceeds.
"She's going to get herself a horse, isn't she?" their mother perceived.
"Yes."
Finally Drea had saved up enough of her earnings, and Viggo took her on Polaris to choose her trophy. When she saw the big black stallion, there was no question. He was expensive, but she was rich - at least for a girl her age, and she felt like the richest person in the world. He was a young horse, but had been thoroughly trained and was everything she hoped for. Viggo had never seen his little sister so happy. He didn't know then that she would take that horse and run away from home that very night.
His eyes began to tear up just a little. He wiped them dry so he could see in the already dim woods without the added blurryness. The weight came down on his chest again, as it always did when he thought of that night nearly four years ago. He heard Farlen barking nearby, but that seemed normal enough and his focus remained with his thoughts and feelings of guilt. It seemed impossible to resist wallowing in them, even though his mother had told him it wasn't his fault and she was probably right. He still wondered if he should have done more to keep his baby sister at home, wondered if he was wrong to give her the very means to leave, wrong to let her go when he was the only one who could have stopped her. Her big brother, her guardian--
His thoughts were startlingly interrupted when Farlen's barking was joined by the sound of a horse galloping nearby. Viggo looked in the direction of all the commotion and saw that it wasn't Polaris, and it soon disappeared into the trees. If there was a horse running through the woods, he thought, then there was likely a rider. "Hello? Is there someone here?" he called. No answer came. He called a few more times as he went in the direction the horse had come from, wondering if he would find a fallen rider or if the horse had just run far from home on its own.
The woods grew mysteriously quiet, nothing but his own calls breaking the silence, until Farlen came panting up to him. He decided to try looking in the direction Farlen came from, ready to believe no one was there if he didn't find anyone soon. It was getting dark and hard to see much, and the woods were vast enough he might not find anyone even if they were in there somewhere. But soon he saw a figure lying on the ground by a tree. Unsure if they were alive, he hurried and knelt beside them, finding it was a young woman with blood on her head.
"Are you alright?" he asked urgently.
"I--" she stammered-- "I don't know."
"You will be. I'm going to take care of you, alright? My name's Viggo Akylas."
"I'm--" she winced and put her hand to her head-- "Alethes Brighton," she slurred, then groaned, "My head...."
"It's okay, Alethes," he said, whispering a prayer to Gadriel and reaching his hand under her head, "I'll take care of it." She looked her savior in the eyes for a short moment before her own eyes closed as she passed out and Viggo was left holding a stranger limp in his arms.
He put the book back in the satchel and patted Polaris's neck. "That's a good girl," he sighed. He noticed the bare skin on his right forearm - a consistent reminder that he didn't fit in. Just today he'd been bugged about it.
"You seem like a devoted Miran," Tether Trinken had said, "I never understood why you haven't gotten your mark yet. What's keeping you?"
He had knocked on the Trinkens' door looking for Dittany, a wise old resourceful woman. He instead found himself stuck talking with Tether, her granddaughter. For over an hour.
He shifted in his chair. "Well," he answered, "it's not that I don't want one. It's a spiritually beautiful symbol and I would wear it with pride. It's just - I don't know for sure that it's meant for me."
"Well why wouldn't it be?" Tether countered, "Viggo, you're over thinking it! Like you over think a lot of things. Sometimes in life you just have to make that leap, take that chance! You know what you want, and you have to pursue it!"
He had a nagging feeling that she wasn't just talking about getting his mark anymore. He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, and started to open his mouth, though he wasn't sure what to say. But she released him from that burden by speaking again herself.
"Really Viggo, it's not so complicated. Do you want to follow Gadriel?"
"Yes, of course," he answered.
"Then make that commitment and dedicate yourself to live that new life. You've got a whole journey ahead of you, and getting your mark is the first step."
"I don't know," he said, resolving to make his feelings understood, if possible. "I guess the way it feels to me, is that I've been on this journey already for as long as I can remember. Some people know exactly when and where in their life they decided to live for Gadriel. But I feel like Gadriel has been my friend all my life, since I was a small child. So if I get my mark, it won't mean to me what it's supposed to mean. I'm always learning and becoming more of the person I should be. So where can I draw the line where my journey begins and how can a new life mark be the first step in my journey?"
"You're over thinking it," she said again, "If nothing else, we get our mark to show that we have taken that first step. Like me: I got mine when I was 13--" she pushed her hair back to reveal her mark-- "but I was ready to get it when I was younger than that. And I would have if someone qualified had been available to give me my mark. So when I was able to get it, it was a symbol of the step I had already taken before I got it. You see what I mean? But there's no reason you need to put it off for so long. I don't know anyone else your age who doesn't have their mark."
I am aware, he thought.
"Besides," she teased, "how are you going to get a devoted Miran woman if she doesn't know you're a devoted Miran man?"
"I don't think I should get my mark for the girls," he answered.
"Oh I was only joking!" Tether said, "I don't mean that you should get it to impress the ladies. Though what I said was true."
Viggo politely laughed, since she said she was joking. "It's a good thing I'm not exactly trying to get a woman then," he snickered.
She narrowed her eyes, and he sensed trouble. "So are you sure your grandmother's coming back soon?" he quickly changed the subject to the question he'd been wondering the whole time he'd been Tether's captive audience. "I've been here for over an hour now, and I think I really need that book she talked about lending me."
It wasn't long after that Dittany came in and rescued him, but not before Tether had insisted she would pay him and his mother a visit tomorrow. Tether wasn't so bad, he thought as he rode homeward. She was generous and energetic and could even be sweet. But while he was willing to call her a friend, he didn't feel that she was any kind of real kindred spirit to him. He couldn't let his guard down and really be himself around her without feeling misunderstood. In fact, the only place he felt truly safe to do that was at home with his mother, which made him feel a little pathetic sometimes when he "over thought" it. He realized Tether might have been half right about him being an over thinker.
As far as being more than friends, which she seemed to have been fishing for to one extent or another for some time now - Viggo just didn't know for sure that it was meant for him. If there was anyone for him, he figured, it would be someone more like his mother, someone who understood him and his convictions, who he could freely talk with about deep things, about the things that matter most - and not in the form of an argument. He had watched the way his parents interacted throughout his life, and he felt sure it wouldn't be necessary for him to repeat their mistakes. But most likely, he figured, he'd just be a loner for the rest of his life anyway and there'd never be anyone who would even tempt him to depart from that path.
The road began to curve around the woods and he remembered he needed to go through them instead to pick up some wild herbs on the way home. As he dismounted where the trees began, Polaris happily started snatching grass and weeds with her big mouth, and was overjoyed to discover wild raspberry bushes. Farlen, the frisky grandson of Viggo's childhood dog, zealously followed every scent and sound remotely near his master's path. Viggo quickly noticed some athelas before any of the other herbs he had in mind and began to gather. He was in somewhat of a hurry, as he had meant to get home to his mother earlier and darkness would be falling soon, especially here in the woods. Still, his mind wandered back to his deeper thoughts while he wandered deeper into the woods.
Being such a loner - it didn't mean he never wished there could be a companion for him in life - a true soulmate to share in every joy and sorrow, to lighten the burden and brighten the future. It just didn't seem like something he could count on. No girl he'd ever met felt like that friend to him, and here he was 23 now. While young people around him seemed all too willing to experiment with each other and make a fun game out of their own feelings and the feelings of others, he had always sought only simple, straightforward, and caring friendships and believed that if someone was meant to be more than that to him, they would both be able to figure it out without trying to. That's what his mother said too.
But it was still confusing. The connection his parents shared seemed truly special - like destiny had created them for each other and set them on paths to cross in just the right time and way, so that there was no question about whether it was meant to be. But that didn't end well. Then again, even now, having been separated for three years and divided at heart for longer than that, his parents each still loved no one else and each still waited for the other to change. Not the ideal relationship, but special it remained in the mind of their only son. Still he would avoid that kind of relationship like the plague.
Then there was his baby sister. He still remembered holding her when he was hardly bigger than she was. But even at the age of three, he was old enough to understand that he was no longer the baby and that she was, that he was a big brother now and as such it was his duty to protect her and keep her safe and loved. And he was all too happy to do that duty, even when she pulled his little brown locks. He held her hand when she was learning to walk and told her she could do it. Of course their parents were involved in the walking lessons, but it felt so important to Viggo at the time, he always remembered his part.
As much as he was always willing to slow down to her pace and help her do things, she often fought for any chance to do things "all by herself" instead. Ajnin would quickly climb all the way up to the top of the play tower to announce, "I'm the king! I'm the king!" while Viggo would lag behind his bestie to hold out his hand to Drea, saying, "Okay, now you get on this...." When she learned to talk well enough, one of her favorite phrases was, "I know! I don't need help!" She once climbed up to the top of the tower and promptly fell off, but her dad was there to catch her. If he hadn't, if they'd been allowed to play on it without supervision, her injuries would have been more serious than the small splinter her mama pulled out of her cheek. But Drea Grace seemed completely oblivious to such facts of life, particularly if it meant being any less wild.
By the time she was 16, she was still restless as ever and wanted to be a grownup. She had risen to the distinguished role of sewing expert in the family, contributing to the cashmere business. Viggo was 19 and took after both his father and mother as a tender of goats as well as a skillful healer. He remained at home as many young people did, seeing no need to leave the family of his childhood when he wasn't preparing to start a new family too soon. But he had grown independent, even had his own goats that he had raised from birth, and worked hard to create cashmere, contributing to his own living and that of his family.
Drea was much less content than he was though, especially when she realized her father wasn't planning to get her a horse like he had done for Viggo when he turned 16. Before Viggo's white mare, the family had lived with only one horse all along - Hapak's horse, the family horse. He told his daughter that her brother was a man, and would need a horse because one day he too would be the head of his own family, and he needed to be independent. That answer didn't go over well with Drea. She tried arguing for a while, which actually worked for her oftentimes, but not this time. So she found her own way.
It wasn't Viggo's idea to be the privileged one in the situation, and he knew his little sister wanted a horse more than anything. So when she came to him asking a favor, he couldn't refuse. During the next several months as she happily spun and wove and sewed like never before, Hapak was happy that she had quit arguing with him and had finally contented herself with her circumstances. But Epifany sensed early on that the peace was too good to be true - not in their home. Soon Viggo explained to her that Drea was working for him, helping him get ahead on his cashmere production, and that he was paying her a portion of the proceeds.
"She's going to get herself a horse, isn't she?" their mother perceived.
"Yes."
Finally Drea had saved up enough of her earnings, and Viggo took her on Polaris to choose her trophy. When she saw the big black stallion, there was no question. He was expensive, but she was rich - at least for a girl her age, and she felt like the richest person in the world. He was a young horse, but had been thoroughly trained and was everything she hoped for. Viggo had never seen his little sister so happy. He didn't know then that she would take that horse and run away from home that very night.
His eyes began to tear up just a little. He wiped them dry so he could see in the already dim woods without the added blurryness. The weight came down on his chest again, as it always did when he thought of that night nearly four years ago. He heard Farlen barking nearby, but that seemed normal enough and his focus remained with his thoughts and feelings of guilt. It seemed impossible to resist wallowing in them, even though his mother had told him it wasn't his fault and she was probably right. He still wondered if he should have done more to keep his baby sister at home, wondered if he was wrong to give her the very means to leave, wrong to let her go when he was the only one who could have stopped her. Her big brother, her guardian--
His thoughts were startlingly interrupted when Farlen's barking was joined by the sound of a horse galloping nearby. Viggo looked in the direction of all the commotion and saw that it wasn't Polaris, and it soon disappeared into the trees. If there was a horse running through the woods, he thought, then there was likely a rider. "Hello? Is there someone here?" he called. No answer came. He called a few more times as he went in the direction the horse had come from, wondering if he would find a fallen rider or if the horse had just run far from home on its own.
The woods grew mysteriously quiet, nothing but his own calls breaking the silence, until Farlen came panting up to him. He decided to try looking in the direction Farlen came from, ready to believe no one was there if he didn't find anyone soon. It was getting dark and hard to see much, and the woods were vast enough he might not find anyone even if they were in there somewhere. But soon he saw a figure lying on the ground by a tree. Unsure if they were alive, he hurried and knelt beside them, finding it was a young woman with blood on her head.
"Are you alright?" he asked urgently.
"I--" she stammered-- "I don't know."
"You will be. I'm going to take care of you, alright? My name's Viggo Akylas."
"I'm--" she winced and put her hand to her head-- "Alethes Brighton," she slurred, then groaned, "My head...."
"It's okay, Alethes," he said, whispering a prayer to Gadriel and reaching his hand under her head, "I'll take care of it." She looked her savior in the eyes for a short moment before her own eyes closed as she passed out and Viggo was left holding a stranger limp in his arms.