The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 50: Within the Hour

Something didn’t feel right.

As Tia ascended the tower in her usual ritualistic manner, the Wind sounded… different. She couldn’t quite grasp what. The unsettling feeling had grown slowly over the past few days, although it was that day when it had become obvious.

Snow had begun to fall. Overnight, the colour of the world had turned into varying shades of black and white. Despite the copious amounts of salt and grit being spread on the ground in the Gwentians’ attempts to delay ice formation and improve walking conditions, the frosty whiteness had settled in deep. When Tia was making her way to the tower, she found her boots sinking beyond the ankles. The thick hide kept her feet dry. Little white fluff drifted from the sky, landing on her nose and making it tingle.

Mooncliffe had snow almost on a yearly basis, but the amount was nothing compared to Gwent. Dernexes often struggled with snow but the Gwentians continued on with their daily chores without any impediment, literally ploughing through several tens of inches of snow with ease.

It hadn’t occurred to her until that point, but thinking back, often a few inches of snow in Dernexes would cause transport to stop. Only messages could be sent from city to city, and only by the Windcasters; food transport would also have ground to a halt. In areas where food storage hadn’t been fully prepared, shortage would happen on a regular basis, particularly poorer areas such as Ratho or cities with particularly large population such as Kiramone. Master Anu had always prepared their little house for the winter with enough food – but not plentiful, so Tia and Mommu would often still have unsatisfied stomachs – and fuel.

She wondered if the fuel and food shortage in the winter had resulted in deaths. Not everyone had bountiful supplies. Not everyone had a Windcaster to predict the onset of winter. Not everyone had the adequate money or status to acquire the resources. But she was willing to bet her staff that King Ea and his family would never be short of food or fuel, even during dark and difficult periods.

The way Gwentians operated meant despite the deficits, rationing allowed the survival of almost everybody. Nobody would starve or freeze to death. Fair distribution of food would result in everyone being hungry, with unsatisfied stomachs, but they would still be able to work through the cold. Even Lahar had to forego a meal or two for the ones who had fallen ill recently and Tia hadn’t heard a single word of dissent. All the people suffered, but it was to a lesser degree. It made Tia feel less guilty about the situation, although her own stomach had complained quite a bit in recent days too.

The Wind blew again, bringing Tia back to reality from her tangent. It was difficult to describe precisely what was so different about the Wind that day, but it made her unsettled and gave her a sense of foreboding.

Setting the staff in front of her, she sang for Mommu again as she had done every morning. After their first and last encounter, she had not heard from him again. She wasn’t too worried though; knowing that he was alive and safe meant more to her than she could describe. Taking the new strap she had added to her staff and swinging it over her shoulder, she made her way down again.

The discomfort in the pit of her stomach remained with her for the rest of the day.

****

“Sorry to hear the library’s shut,” said the princess as she passed Tia a boxful of dried leaves and returned to her station. It had been a few days since their row, and as expected, Sarpanit had recovered much quicker than Tia and the two hadn’t spoken of that conversation again.

Tia sniffed the contents of the wooden box. It was musky, like old wood.

“None of the books are affected; I am just thankful for that. But the fixing will take several days. Where does this go?”