Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Key to Darkness ❯ Lucy the Seer ( Chapter 1 )

“I'm a seer,” the mystery woman explained as she led Maxor into a small stall beside her house, the big, black horse more than happy to get inside and to some hay.

 

Given the time of year, the temperature would plummet at night, and camping outdoors was not something you did if you could avoid it. Which was probably the primary reason he was accepting her hospitality, especially as she was asking nothing in return other than he listen to her. He was not going to turn down free bed and board as well as free stabling and fodder. His second reason was curiosity.

 

“Forgive me, but you do not look like a seer.”

 

She grinned winningly and chuckled.

 

“I am not surprised, the old crone image is so common, but not all of us come into our powers so old, or at least, don't wait so long to admit them.”

 

He looked at her properly as she tied up a net of hay for Maxor, cheerful as she busied herself with removing his saddle and bridle, he apparently not allowed to help in any way. Indeed, she was young and pretty, slight of form, her figure girlish, hair the colour of autumn leaves piled atop her head with a carved bone pin.

 

“And I don't think feathers and twigs in my hair do much for getting a nice young man to notice me.” She laughed, a soft and pleasant sound. “I mean, what use is having powers if you do not use them until you look the part? It doesn't stop the visions coming in any case. And if you don't mind me saying, you don't exactly fit the mercenary stereotype yourself. You're too skinny.” She said as she led him into the house, the smell of some kind of stew striking him as soon as he entered.

 

He laughed loudly, amused by her attitude as he laid his pack and swords to one side.

 

“So did you foresee that as well as my coming?”

 

She chuckled.

 

“Now you are being cheeky, I am sure you know it doesn't work like that Master Jaelen.”

 

“Oh Master now am I? Or is that in my future? And it seems you know my name, but you have yet to tell me yours.”

 

She stopped as she had been reaching to put some herbs into the stew, laughing at herself.

 

“I have got to stop doing that.” She turned and handed him a board with half a loaf of bread and a knife. “Call me Lucy, everyone does.”

 

“Lucy? Unusual name.”

 

“Well it's easier to say than Lucilliana-Alexor. And my family name is Berrydew. I think my mother went a bit mad in the naming stakes, may her spirit forever walk free. So Lucy I shall be, I think.”

 

Jaelen chuckled.

 

“Did she pass recently?” He asked, after her speaking the traditional blessing for her mother's spirit he knew she had.

 

“Two summers ago, she wandered off the forest path and fell down a fissure in the earth, broke her neck on a tree root. Was a quick and painless death so that was a blessing. She had a bad habit of doing things she shouldn't.”

 

He nodded politely, not knowing what to say, so opted to change the subject instead.

 

“So Lucy, what did you see when it came to me?” He asked, cutting himself some bread as she ladled thick and hearty stew into a terracotta bowl.

 

“Oh that. Well you know what visions are like. This one was simply a message, nothing visual, like a voice in my head; that happens sometimes. `The mercenary Jaelen will come when winter passes into spring. It is his destiny to find the key of prophecy.' So I kept watch all day, and you were the only mercenary to come into town. Are you seriously going to eat in your armour?”

 

He looked down at himself. Anyone would of thought that the thick plates of shaped raegnor hide would be too heavy to forget about. But he, like most of his order, learned to move freely within it as if it weighed nothing at all, and he even slept in it on occasion.

 

“Forgive me, an old habit.”

 

She chuckled.

 

“You can take it off, you'll be safe here tonight. The townsfolk look after me.”

 

Jaelen smiled, rising to begin removing his armour. He could well believe it, a seer was often at the heart of a settlement, making it run more smoothly as their visions helped the people. They were revered and respected, and often feared. It was believed that it was bad luck to allow harm to come to a seer, and despite how unusual he was, he did not doubt that the people here looked after her well, and that was why there was quite so much meat obvious in her stew. He was going to eat well this night it seemed.

 

“So what is this key your vision speaks of?” He asked as he unbuckled his breastplate, revealing a soft tunic of dark homespun weave.

 

“I'm damned if I know.” Lucy said, sitting down and cutting herself some bread from the loaf on the board. “I just get the visions, I don't keep the lore. It could be one of many prophecies. You are going to have to work out that bit for yourself.”

 

She dipped bread into her own bowl of stew, musing thoughtfully.

 

“There is a library up at the castle, I would speak to the librarian there. He might have some idea about prophesies mentioning keys. And they would probably have work for you up there too.”

 

“A library, that's a rare thing.” He set aside the plates of armour, now looking much less warrior like - in fact, without that and his weapons, he did not look like one at all.

 

“Indeed, I think it was a vanity of our Lord's grandfather. Almost bankrupted the province until his son stepped in and stopped him spending like coin grows on trees. He was getting a touch soft in the head. So they have a library, and a librarian. I've never met him but apparently he is an expert in matters such as these.”

 

“Visions or prophecy?”

 

“Both, or so they say. But if you are lucky he won't be a man of religion, or he will be biased to his own beliefs no doubt.”

 

Jaelen chuckled. Yes, the religious zealot was apt to twist any vision to suit the doctrine of his or her god.

 

“So the deity who sent you the vision did not tell you who they were?”

 

Lucy smiled.

 

“They never do, and I do not know if my visions even come from the gods, or whether I am just sensitive to whispers of spirits or the earth beneath us. I don't know from where they come, but I learnt at a young age not to question them. They have yet to be wrong.”

 

It was Jaelen's turn to smile. Lucy was certainly unique. It was relatively normal for a seer to be aligned to a deity of some sort, even if it was one of the ancient nature spirits. To not openly align with one was unusual to say the least. But he tucked into his stew at last, grateful to be by a warm hearth, in safe shelter. It was very thick and meaty with globs of melted fat within the gravy, and would be the most nutritious meal he would have eaten in quite some time. And not only did it look and smell delicious, it tasted wonderful.

 

“It is very good stew.” He said honestly, tucking in happily.

 

She smiled at him warmly.

 

“Well if your wandering keeps you in the area for a while, you are welcome to rest yourself here, get some meat on your bones. As long as you don't mind helping with some of the harder chores while you are here. It would be nice to have some company that isn't wary of me. The only problem with admitting you are a seer at my age is that young men are hesitant to approach you. Seem to think that you see everything they will ever do, that their lives will never be private. You can try telling them that you cannot see what you want to see, that it's an involuntary thing, but they never listen.”

 

Jaelen smiled kindly at her.

 

“That is a kind offer. One I shall take you up on if I have the chance. Your visions are a gift, but it sounds like they make you lonely.”

 

“They can do, but I have little to complain about. I am sure in time someone will be able to see past the visions. And I shall wait for him. And if I am really lucky, my visions will reveal who I am waiting for, but they are very rarely of anything to my personal gain. Not that I mind, I would hate to know everything that is happening in my life before it happens.”

 

He chuckled.

 

“It would certainly take the surprise out of it.”

 

“It is better this way.” She agreed. “Though you don't talk much, you prefer to ask questions.”

 

He grinned, caught.

 

“Another habit of my profession. I find it is better to be sparing in what I say, lest it reveal too much of myself. And asking questions is the best way to get information.”

 

“This is very true, and I do talk too much, enough for two at least.” She admitted.

 

Jaelen found that he liked Lucy. She was a warm being with a happy smile, and she smiled frequently. Was that because he did not view her with cautious eyes, simply accepted what she was, relaxed around her? These were dark times for Brekkenth, monsters appearing more and more frequently, no-one ever knowing their source. In a way he should not complain. The situation meant his swords had plenty of work, and the bounty on a particularly vicious beast harassing a settlement could earn him enough coin to keep him and Maxor sheltered and fed for half a season. But even he wondered why things were as they were.

 

Even the rare raegnor with their thick, leather hides, sabre teeth and eviscerating claws seemed to be breeding at an unusually rapid rate. Certainly they were proliferating. He had fought and slain three of the great beasts in the last two seasons alone, and while their hides were worth some serious coin, unless you had a trained butcher and tanner to hand to deal with the carcass within a day, the hide spoiled and they were useless. It was why his raegnor armour was so precious, second only to his twin blades. Something Lucy had her eye on.

 

“Why two?”

 

“Hmm?” He looked to see where her eyes rested. “They were a gift, in return for services rendered.” He answered with a smile.

 

“I would ask if it were a lady who gave you the gift, if we were not talking about swords. Does not seem like a gift a lady would give.”

 

He grinned.

 

“You might be surprised.”

 

Lucy looked at him expectantly, but he simply returned to his stew.

 

“Fine, be enigmatic then.” She chuckled. “It is not my business I am sure.”

 

Having finished her meal she rose from the table, taking her bowl and spoon to place it in a bucket with others from the day.

 

“If you wouldn't mind fetching some water when you are finished I would be grateful.”

 

“Then I shall,” he nodded, almost done with his food. “Is the well far?”

 

“We have a spring, at the end of the street, not far, but since you are here you can make yourself useful.”

 

Jaelen chuckled.

 

“Since you are looking after myself and Maxor so kindly, I would be glad to.”

 

“Maxor… good strong name for a horse.”

 

“He'd be glad that you approve.”

 

But he was done with his food, a pleasantly full feeling within his stomach, rising to pick up the water bucket from by the door, Lucy clearing away after him, putting away the board and clearing the table. He headed out into the night, shivering slightly, not used to being out in the cold dark without his armour on to warm him. He moved quickly, still alert to everything around him, it paid to be in his profession. It was particularly cold because it was a clear night, there might even be a frost on the ground come Iros rise, the primary sun small in the sky at this time of year. The crescent moon was already high in the sky, the stars shining brightly.

 

He found the spring easily enough, the soft spill of water easy enough to hear, and there was of course an oil lamp hung above so all could see it no matter the hour. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited for the bucket to fill, the pool beneath the spring not big enough to scoop water out of. His eyes rested on the castle. He knew that Lucy was right, when he looked up at the castle he got that same pull that had been leading him for five years. It was getting stronger too, as though he was closer now to finding his purpose, his place in this world. His path led to that library, though he doubted the actual answer would be within those tomes. Answers for such things were rarely in written words, but in actions.

 

He carried the water back into Lucy's small abode where she washed up while she had him stoke the fire. Tonight would be cold, and with careful stoking the fire would burn longer after they had turned in to their rest, keeping the cabin warm. It was something he was used to doing, having to keep his own fire when he had to sleep between settlements. Lucy, done with her cleaning and he with setting the fire, smiled at him.

 

“There is space in the loft, I've made a straw pallet there for you, you can get up using that ladder. It's not much…”

 

“It will be enough,” he assured her.

 

He had slept on far worse in his time, that much was for sure. The scent of straw was pleasant, and it kept the warmth in. He retrieved his blanket from his pack, knowing that Lucy would want him to go up so she could ready herself for bed, a small affair on the far side of the cabin, giving her some privacy.

 

“Sleep well,” he bade her pleasantly; she had been kind enough to give him shelter, the least he could do was be polite to her.

 

He climbed up the small ladder into the tight loft space. He had nothing to complain about, the space was next to the flue for the fire, and the warmth could be felt from the pallet that lay there for him. He shifted the straw within the pallet a little to his satisfaction before laying down, hearing Lucy busy herself below. The light dimmed as she doused the lamps, the only light now from the fire in the hearth. He smiled. Such kindness as hers was unusual, but he understood. If she was lonely and she had plenty, it was a simple thing for her, and gave her a companion, if even only for a short time. And not only that, she was somehow a guide to what he sought. In five years this was the first time a seer had ever approached him in regards to his future.

 

Still, there was not much point in keeping himself awake musing, it was best to rest easy while he could. Tomorrow he had a librarian to hunt.