Nym's Arc

Chapter 10 of 41

Magnus closed the thin book and set it back on the shelf. "We must rest for a few days and prepare for this journey," he said. Nym nodded. She held the ring against her chest. Her mother was Made, not Born. Her mother had died three hundred years ago. Yet here she sat, alive, and no book could say why. They rested three days in the tower. Magnus packed dried bread, water skins, and a bundle of runestones wrapped in cloth. Nym watched him work. He was not old, though his hair ran silver. His golden gown was faded at the sleeves from years of turning pages. He moved slowly, as if the trip cost him something he did not want to name. "How far?" Nym asked. "Four days of walking," Magnus said. "The place lies past the eastern hills. No horse can climb the last stretch. We go on foot." On the fourth morning they left the tower. The black cat trotted at Nym's heels and would not turn back. The path climbed and fell. By midday her boots rubbed her heels raw. Magnus said little. He watched the ground and read marks Nym could not see. The second day was worse. Rain soaked their cloaks. The trail turned to mud. Magnus slipped and Nym caught his arm. His hands shook when he steadied himself. "I have not walked this road in a long time," he said. "Not since your mother walked it beside me." Nym stopped. "You knew her here?" "I saw her last here," Magnus said. "Before the final battle. She stood where we are going and she made me a promise." He would not say more. The third day the ground leveled. They cane to old trees and a dark forest. "This is it," Magnus said. "Just through this forest and we will arrive." Nym looked ahead, the forest was dark and dreary feeling. “In there” she said softly. Magnus nods, they push forward and continue their journey, they stop occasionally to catch breath and eat, Nym lights the way with her fire.