15 Nim

"Come on, lad! You're dragging your feet worse than a lame horse!" Nim shouted at Lieutenant Gareth as they trudged down the forest path. She was sprier than she had let on back at the farm, she had been keeping a hurried pace for the better part of an hour since they stepped into the stitch and crossed over into Ibudal. If they were going to continue traveling on foot, the pair would need to move quickly.

Nim thought that the gods must have been looking out for her when Talmot had allowed her to pick up the old wooden stick she used as a cane back in the barn. She still wasn't sure how she might have broken through the red-haired witches barrier without it. She had been completely cut off from her magic due to the witch's spell, and Nim shuddered while recalling the restless void inside her where her magic should have been.

The cane she carried typically amplified her magic, it acted solely as a conduit, not a source of magic itself. The magic came from within her, a vast well inside her very being that could be depleted with enough use but replenished on its own with enough time.

"Coming!" Gareth mumbled, trotting behind her. She had simply threatened the sandy-haired boy with her cane, and his compliance had significantly increased once they began to walk a while. Nim hadn't used her magic defensively, or offensively for that matter, in many years and regretted doing so. Threatening the boy did not bring her any joy, but she needed him on her side for now.

She knew they had landed in Ibudal almost instantly, she could tell by the position of the sun in the sky and the way the shadows fell differently, every smell and plant was just a bit..off. Blue lilacs instead of purple, the tinge of salt in the air, yes, she was very far from home indeed. Mera was too similar to Ovandale, and the climates in the lands North of Ibudal were much colder. Yes, this is where she had sent Caroline. The young lieutenant had been able to direct her in the path Caroline most likely would have taken.

West and they would have traveled to the sea and north would bring them to Astrophel's province, east would bring them to the Castle Mont, the south was just a scattering of farmlands until they would eventually reach the capital of Ravin-Sha, but that would take weeks he told her. Nim didn't know much about the Lords in Ibudal, but the air smelled cleaner heading toward Castle Mont, and that was good enough for her to head in that direction.

The two traveled together in the brush on the side of the road, Nim thought it best to avoid eyesight should anyone be traveling in their direction, the fewer eyes on them the better. She couldn't imagine how they would explain a horseless young soldier and an old witch traveling together, was beyond her. Evading capture at any cost was paramount. She supposed they could make up an excuse if caught, but she knew the absence of a geometrical neck tattoo would draw questions she could not answer without having to use her magic.

It was best, she thought, to only use it under dire circumstances. As soon as they find a town, she would have them change their clothes for a better disguise, but for now, traveling undercover was the wisest course. The odds were certainly stacked against them, but Nim was prepared to give Caroline and herself a fighting chance in Ibudal.

They walked for some time through the dense underbrush, but as the sun began to set it was becoming harder for Nim to see her way, the last thing she needed was to fall and break a bone in the dark she thought ruefully. Her skills in the healing arts were adept, but she lacked energy after the trek through the woods.

Motioning for the boy to follow her, she guided them deeper into the forest away from the deserted dirt road. Stopping in a clearing, Nim eased herself down onto a soft patch of grass and stretched her short legs out in front of her with a groan. Gareth took a tentative seat near her on the hard ground. "Best, we make camp for the night, no use puttering around in the dark like a pair of fools," she told him. The young man nodded, eyes downcast.

"I'll gather some wood for a fire," he told her, stomping into the brush nearby.

"Don't do anything stupid, I'll know if you do," Nim said, tapping her temple with a wrinkled hand.

Nim couldn't help but chuckle to herself. She did not possess any psychic abilities, few witches did, but the boy didn't know that.

"And keep the noise down, who knows what is lurking out there." she finished.

The young man nodded and soon returned with an armload of branches dropping them on the ground and placing them in a small heap in front of the two. Nim ignited the kindling with the end of her cane to a bemused look from the lieutenant. He had clearly seen magic before, but the fact that the witch was not under contract, she could tell unsettled him. Her tie to fire was not nearly as strong as the other elements, but she could light a few candles or a fire if need be.

"Are witches in Ovandale really free? No contracts at all?" he asked her once they had finished a meager meal of dried fruit Nim had kept in her pocket from back on the farm.

Gareth hadn't been prepared for anything more than a half days ride, and she could hear his stomach rumbling from across the small fire. He genuinely looked appreciative of her small offering. His black Ibudali uniform was still nearly pristine while Nim's farm clothes, a long brown skirt, and a white blouse, were a little worse for the wear. The scuffle to get through the stitch still left her a little sore in the knees.

"Yes boy, our people fled when the oppression started in Ibudal over a century ago. We've generally lived in peace until your lot came along," she told him with a disdainful look.

"How do you live in peace when anyone can use magic in whatever manner they please?" Gareth's tone was genuinely curious.

"We're farmers child, we use our magic to take care of our families and villages. We keep the community fed, grow our fields, and heal the sick. What did you think we would do with the magic?" she asked him.

It was as Nim feared, the generations after the oppression saw nothing wrong with enslaving witches and their magic. they had become indoctrinated into believing that they had more to fear from her kind than gain. Her heart ached.

"Raise an army? Invade other countries? Become the most powerful?" Gareth listed a little too quickly.

Nim huffed. "We already have power, why would my people need more? The purpose of gaining power is to be able to give it away. What use is it if one does not use it to protect the innocent?"

Gareth left her question unanswered but nodded to himself apparently lost in his own thoughts on the matter. The pair sat in silence for a time, both lost in their own thoughts as the fire crackled merrily.

After darkness had fully set in around them and burning embers before them only extended their vision to a few feet diameter, Nim noticed that Gareth was becoming uncomfortable. His eyes kept darting to the edge of the firelight often, startling at any snap of twigs in the surrounding area. The silence and darkness didn't bother her in the slightest. She preferred the quiet by the fireside and there had been enough chatter for one day, she thought.

Her musings drifted to the events that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. The bones held a warning but no omen could have prepared her what had come. She believed she had been keeping Ovandale safe from outside forces. The whole of the Conventicle had thought the same. They had even cursed the sea to keep invaders at bay over a hundred years ago, and while it had worked for a time, it seemed that their luck finally had run out. She hoped against all the odds Caroline was safe tonight in this foreign land.

Laying her thoughts aside, she decided there was nothing to be done now but rest and wait for the dawning of a new day and the forming of another plan. She began to hum a melody, an old tune from her days scavenging the countryside with her mother, the same music her mother had carried with her over the sea.

The piece drifted into a soft cadence as Nim began to sing in her low cracked voice. Even though her song was faint, tiny pinpricks of light began to appear just outside the ring of firelight. Gareth, who had already been jumpy since they made camp, started to shift in his seat. Nim let out a soft sigh after she was done singing and held our her hand, palm open to the inky sky above.

"Come here," Nim said to no one in particular, her eyes tilted towards the night sky slightly. The lieutenant moved his head looking around at who she was speaking to, his eyes growing wide as one of the faeries that had gathered close to hear her song, fluttered its wings to land gently in her outstretched palm.

"You shouldn't dabble with the faerie folk," Gareth muttered in an urgent whisper.

"Oh, hush, you." Nim shot back at the lieutenant, "They'll be kind to us if we be kind to them. We are guests in their wood and should treat it as so."

"Their wood? This is the King's land and likely allocated to some Lord vampire under him." Gareth replied, bewilderment contorting his youthful features.

"Boy, this was their forest long before kings and lords and will be their forest long after those kings and lords are rotting in the ground. You would do well to remember that." Nim shot him a pointed glance.

Turning her attention to the faerie, she asked, "Have you seen my granddaughter? Blonde hair, pretty, passed through here earlier today?"

Gareth shook his head as the tiny creature spread its almost translucent wings and left Nim's palm. It's pale blue form glided to her ear and cupped its hands around its mouth of pointed teeth. The faerie chattered there for a few moments in the firelight. Nim nodded or shook her head in response. She whispered a few words back to the creature before sending it's small blue body back into the woods without so much as look in Gareth's direction.

"What did it say?" Gareth asked.

"For you to sleep with your shoes on tonight." Nim told him with a chuckle, "and which way we should go. We turn north in the morning, boy."

"But that will lead us to Lord Astrophel's keep, do you think your granddaughter went there?" he asked.

"No, she went to the vampires to the east, so said the faerie, but we won't be leading Talmot to her. We'll lead him north. I do not doubt the General and his companion followed us back here. It may take them some time to open the stitch again, but they will come for us surely as the sun will rise in the morn. Maybe we can speak with this Astophel when we get there as well..." Nim's last words trailed off as she began to lose herself in her own thoughts again.

"That's a clever plan, Ms. Delvine," he said with a nod, bringing the old woman back to the fireside.

"Call me Nim, everyone else does," she told the boy with a nod. "And of course it's a clever plan, I didn't survive 237 years in this world by acting a damn fool. Now put out the fire," she said, resting herself on the forest floor and closing her eyes with a final snap.

Gareth laid down across from the old woman, tugging on his boots for good measure and making sure they were adequately secured on his feet, before drifting into a restless sleep.