Chapter Twenty-two: From Sweet Water to Secret Garden

27th Mirtul, Year of Three Ships Sailing (1492 D.R.), nine bells after highmoon

Good Morning to you!” The rider calls politely. “I wonder, have you seen a young man on your travels hereabouts? Looks like me. My brother, in fact. Lester, my brother, did not come home last night. Have you seen him?”

“We have seen no-one this morning. We are visitors to the area and are looking for Sweetwater Manor. We need to meet with Mr. Kel Sweetwater on an important personal matter. Could you direct us, please?” Eliana keeps her calm as she responds.

“I am Graham Sweetwater, Kel is my father. And you are at the gates to our home. What is it that you want? And do you have news of my brother? Please, you need to tell me if you have seen him!”

It is clear that the man will not allow us passage onto his land without some answers.

“I am afraid – I do not know if we have seen your brother. We came here to look into the problems the community has been having with the Walking Scarecrows. Last night, while in the process of ridding the farms of this scourge, we came across the badly damaged body of a young man. I am sorry. It is possible that this was your brother.” Eliana explains reluctantly.

Graham Sweetwater reels back, painfully struck.

“Badly damaged? What does that mean? He only went away yesterday, I do not see how…Where is this body? Show it to me!”

“That is not possible.” Eliana answers gently. “The Snobeedle’s mill house and entire field, including the body, were affected by a kind of fungal contagion. We could not let it spread. We burned the building, and the body with it.”

The man’s mouth works for a moment, unable to decide which words to spit at us first. His eyes are dark.

“You need to come to my father now.” He finally says. “You need to tell him all of this.”

We follow silently as Graham leads his horse along the drive to his home. Tying it to a post near the door and bidding us to wait in the tidy yard, he goes into the house. He returns quickly, accompanied by another tall and pale man.

The head of the Sweetwater clan has a wild head of grizzled hair, matched by an equally unruly beard. He moves a little stiffly but his strength is still very clear. He towers over us all and begins urgently demanding information about his son.

“I am very sorry Mr. Sweetwater.” Eliana resumes her heartbreaking job. “As I started to tell Graham, my companions and I were tasked to remove the threat recently plaguing your fields. These Walking Scarecrows. Last night, after destroying the creatures and identifying the cause of the incursion as a fiendish presence that was controlling them, we found a decayed body among the scarecrows. I am sorry to say, from what we have been told so far, it does seem to fit the description of your son.”

“Graham says you burnt my boy! How could this happen? What do you mean fiendish presence? And tasked – who were you working for? Decayed? What is this? Graham, when did Lester leave yesterday?” Kel struggles to find words.

“He left yesterday morning.” Graham responds grimly. “He took a sword and said he would take care of this scarecrow business. Thought he could be a hero. Like in the stories.” He spits.

Both men turn sullenly accusing glares towards my company.

I think about a bold young man, heading out to protect his family’s land. I think about him dead, slime in his golden hair and fungus growing out of his eyes. Another icy splinter enters my heart.

“We were staying at the Snobeedle Meadery.” Eliana quietly explains. “The family there had requested help from the senior priest at my temple, the temple of Mielikki, to investigate these unnatural events…”

She does not get further before the elder Sweetwater erupts in grief and rage.

“Those vile half-folk!”

I do not need Elie’s hissed intake of breath to tell me that Kel Sweetwater has said something terrible. His hatred seeps like a stain into the sun-filled air. I stiffen in shocked dismay. Beside me, Sister gives out a low growl.

“I should have know they had something to do with this! What did they do? What did they do to my son?” Kel’s eyes burn into each of us in turn as his loathing looks for a place to alight.

“The Snobeedle family is not to blame.” Eliana says firmly. “They were just as much victims as you. They lost their mill house. They were all poisoned by the infected mushrooms growing in the fields! They did not do this!”

Kel Sweetwater ignores her.

“Graham! What did I tell you? I told you it was no use you and Lester making overtures, being friendly. You cannot trust those folk. Now they brought down some kind of – of plague upon us!”

With increasing urgency, Eliana tries again.

“They did nothing wrong. It was a fiend – a demon of some kind – attacking this whole community. My companion here -“ She turns and, grabbing my shoulder, into the looming circle of angry Humans. “ – she is a Divine Knight. She detected the fiend and confirmed that the Snobeedles are not in league with any evil!”

I stare at Elie for a shocked moment. Then, steeling myself, I take a breath.

“This will be paid for! There will be a price paid…” Kel rages.

He is very tall. He smells like clean straw and smoked bacon. I see drops of his spittle land on Eliana’s tense face. My hands move smoothly to the hilts of my swords as I watch Kel’s fists clench, my body tensing in response to promised violence.

Eliana glances at me. I am daily becoming more adept at interpreting her unspoken messages. And this is one of her particularly meaningful looks. My fingers still hover around Quen and Vess but I draw myself to my full height and try to calm the snapping ends of my hair. I speak as clearly and resolutely as I can.

“Eliana is right. I am a Warden, a guardian, of my own People. And I serve Aerdrie Faenya, following her path as faithfully as I am able too. I am also now a knight of the Order of the Gauntlet.

“You have my sworn oath that I speak the truth. The Hin family is not to blame. There was a Demon here. A Fiend that took control of part of your lands. And of the things moving over and within it. It poisoned the crops and the mushrooms. Your son tried to kill it and it destroyed him. It nearly killed the Snobeedle family. Including their little girl. No one is at fault here except the Fiend. And we have banished it. Do not further its work by poisoning your community more deeply with talk of revenge.”

The silence following my pronouncement surprises me. Strangely, the two massive Humans seem to diminish, slumping. Graham places an arm on his father’s shoulder, clasping it tightly. I allow my hands to drop back to my sides.

“Why did Lester have to go out there? Why was he always so foolish?” Kel’s voice breaks over a harsh sob.

“He was very brave…” I say uncertainly, hesitant to unleash his wrath again.

“Aye, very brave and very stupid!” He retorts bitterly.

But the furious light has left his eyes and he is grasping Graham’s hand on his shoulder as if it were the only thing holding him upright.

“Brave and kind, maybe?” I suggest softly.

“Yes. Brave and kind.” The hard lines of Kel’s face blur into open grief.

I turn away and look up at the small brown birds wheeling in the sky far overhead. My Lady of the Winds loves such free wild creatures the most. I am certain that part of Her is soaring with them even now.

Eliana and Graham talk briefly. He goes back in the house and brings out a small portrait of a handsome young man. Smiling out from the painting, we recognize Lester as the man whose body we found last night. With this confirmation, the diminished family begins to talk about how to honor their boy.

“Before we leave you to your preparations, I would like to check you both for the fungal contagion.” Eliana says. “Have you picked any of the mushrooms growing nearby? We think that is how the infection spread to the Meadery.”

“No.” Kel says sadly. “No, it was my wife who liked the mushroom picking. Since she passed we have not done much of that ourselves.”

Another loss. Again, I think of Amber and wish desperately that he was here to bring wisdom and comfort to these grieving people.

Despite Kel’s demurral, Eliana casts her spell to confirm that the surviving Sweetwaters are healthy. They also discuss the harvest golem and, to my relief, Kel immediately agrees that the creature should be destroyed. With this assurance, we prepare to leave the Sweetwater farm.

“Thank you for letting us know what happened to our Lester.” Graham says brokenly.

“Yes. Thank you. We will ask the Pastoral, the priest of Chauntea, to help us with…with the rites. There won’t be a burial but at least they can guide Lester now that he’s one with the fields.” Kel bows his head and his shoulders shake.

We repeat our helpless expressions of sympathy and our quiet goodbyes. Then, following the lane out towards the main road and turning south, we walk for a long while in silence.

Eventually, trying hard to set aside thoughts of the morning, I turn to Eliana.

“Elie, since you told us of your prophecy last night, much has happened to distract me. But I am very curious about this and would like to ask you more. How did you come upon these strange words? Was it in some ancient tome that you stumbled upon? Or did an Elder of your people vouchsafe it to you as part of your quest?” I am suddenly breathless with the possibilities.

“Actually, no.” Eliana shrugs. “It’s just that…well, you know how many devout people say that they have an intimate relationship, a close connection, with their deity? But they don’t. Not really, truly. Well, I really do. Literally. My goddess Mielikki speaks to me.”

I greet this declaration with awed silence. Then:

“Does she really?” I ask, impressed.

“Yes. During my meditation, Mielikki speaks to me and gives me guidance. Like this prophecy. That’s how I got it.” Eliana explains matter-of-factly.

“Oh.” I am, if anything, more curious than I was before.

I consider the Deities of these Realms and the role that they play in the lives of us all, mortal and otherwise. I had always respectfully worshipped Aerdrie Faenya, as do all Avariel. But it was only in this last year, after certain unfortunate experiences in my service as Warden, that my Lady truly became my heart’s guiding light. I still do not understand – am still troubled by- the choices that I made during this fateful time. But, while I may not comprehend it, I cannot deny that, after that bitter night on the Glacier, something changed. It was like feeling the sky slowly shift above me as my Lady’s attention turned to me. And, as she bestowed her gifts upon me, I knew that I had found my path. Her Path; one of freedom and faith, courage and light. A Path that I will always try to follow. Even if I never feel Her Wings embrace me ever again. I lose myself in these musings; far to precious, too sacred, to be spoken aloud. And I am happy that Eliana, too, has faith in her Mielikki’s guidance.

“You were asking me about Pip last night Elodie.” Elie speaks again. “This morning, when I meditated outside the Meadery after breakfast, Mielikki granted me the knowledge that Pip will be staying with me. As my loyal companion. He will become large and protect us when he is needed.”

“Well, that is really good news!” I reply.

I think fondly of the brave little mouse. Though, perhaps, no longer always so little.

We walk on, and I am preoccupied by the sight the Deep growing closer on our right. The road starts to curve, leading us towards the Southern Gate. I came to Waterdeep so recently and have been absent from it for an even briefer time. And yet I feel an unexpected joy to be returning to its bustling and grimy streets. I have missed the Temple of the Seldarine. I am happy at the thought of seeing my best friend, Aubray, again.

“As we are speaking of other-worldly sources of knowledge,” Vaikner breaks the pensive silence. “I had a vision last night that I would like to share with all of you.”

“You had a vision?” I look over at him incredulously.

He returns my gaze as calmly as if he had just informed us that he developed a blister on his palm after lengthy sword drills. Or whatever the banal equivalent of such an inconvenience may be for one studying the Art instead of the blade. I continue to stare.

“Yes, yes.” He continues impatiently. “It was of the four of us who are here together today. We were once again walking. Down a dirt path, rutted and muddy. But this time, the hills were to our right, the ocean to the left. Ahead, a purple cloud appeared, obscuring our way. Then figures emerged from the cloud. Their heads were purple mushroom caps. There was a hideous screaming. And gaping maws opened in the mushrooms. Then I came back to myself.”

“Um…” says Eliana.

“You had this vision last night? Like a dream?” I look worriedly over at Sister. “Are you sure you fully cleared the fungus contagion from Vaikner? This sounds like a hallucination brought on by fever.”

Sister slowly turns a look of extreme injury on me. Hair curling in with guilt, I hastily turn to a different line of questioning.

“Do you often have visions Vaikner?” I ask with interest.

“Every day.” He confirms.

“Every…everyday!?” I sputter and he smiles slightly. “And can you predict future events? Can you see what will happen to us when we face the Hag at the manor tomorrow night?”

I make no attempt to suppress my excitement.

“No.” He says, smile fading into disappointment. “I have no control over what I see. Sometimes the images are easy to interpret and at others, the message is obscure. But, quite clearly, this latest vision has something to do with Eliana’s planned journey north. To the Mere of Dead Men. I believe that we will, or we should, all accompany her when she goes.”

“This is very interesting. And, in your visions, do you ever hear a voice?” I remember my night-time flights through the golden desert with an odd little shiver.

“A voice?”

“Yes, an alluring voice. Perhaps telling you to do something? Or offering you something?” I ask hesitantly.

Vaikner only looks at me strangely. But Eliana perks up at this.

“You know, I had a very odd dream last night. Where a voice was offering me any number of things that I wanted. Mostly cheese-related. I dreamt of a great tall skeletal figure surrounded by a floating arc of rainbow lights. He was very cranky and he kept trying to get me to come to his crypt and getting offended when I asked him any questions.” She chuckles.

“Oh, is this the dream that so troubled your sleep last night? That is interesting! And he was offering you cheese? How tempting…” I begin.

“You saw a skeletal figure? Surrounded by colorful lights?! That was Larloch! You saw Larloch the Warlock in your dream, Eliana!” Vaikner is suddenly very agitated.

“I am sorry, did you say: Larloch?” I snort. “Larloch the Warlock?”

I look at Eliana. She looks back at me, an appreciative grin lighting up her face.

“Larloch the Warlock!” I repeat in delighted disbelief.

We erupt into laughter. Sister chuckles uncertainly in sympathy as peals of our merriment ring out around her.

Vaikner regards us coldly, as we collapse into helpless giggles by the side of the road.

“He is a mighty Lich. Extremely powerful and extremely dangerous. He has been – well – stalking me, I suppose. Trying to entice me to come to his crypt and face him.” Vaikner explains crossly.

Even as the Drow tells us the tale of Larloch and his rule of magical terror, I feel the slight absence of clarity, the mild dizziness, that comes with a Sending. I concentrate, expecting to hear my Mama’s sweet voice. Instead, a crabby and petulant presence invades my thoughts.

“Ah yes, there you are! Well, at least one of you. You are the brave warrior, yes?” His screeching hurts my head. “Well, I have many brave foes here for you to face. When are you coming?”

I suffer through the rest of the message, stunned, and then turn to my companions.

“He just spoke to me. This Larloch – he just spoke to me! He wants to know when we are coming to him.” I blurt out.

Vai and Elie stare.

“He told me all about his mighty fortress. It is protected by armies of evil-doers that need to be defeated.” I finish dreamily.

“I think he must be lonely.” Eliana suggests. “He’s watching us all, contacting each in turn and offering us each what he believes we desire. All to get us to come and visit him. He must be lonely.”

“It must be a scrying of some kind,” Vaikner mutters. “A power like his, I am not sure how we can block his mental visitations.”

“Can he see all that we do, Vaikner?” I ask in concern. “I do not like the idea of a creature like that spying on us; watching us when we think that we are alone!”

My friends look at me, a little surprised by my vehemence.

“I mean, think of all the important, sensitive conversations we have had. And plan to have, in the coming days. Our talk with the Blackstaff could not have been more confidential! And, when we meet with Mirt tonight…well, I am sure that he does not intend for that to be a conversation shared with any stranger that feels curious!” I quickly explain.

“Larloch is so far from Waterdeep and our affairs here,” muses Vaikner. “And he does not emerge from his crypt. I do not think that he will be a threat to us unless we approach him.”

I nod.

“Thank you, Vai. That is reassuring, considering all that we have done. And have yet to do.”

“Um. So. What is that? Exactly?” Sister’s patient voice breaks into our tense exchange.

I start. I am ashamed to have so rudely left Sister out of our talk. I trust her. Sister saved me last night. She bled for me and she healed me. She is courageous and kind. But, while I do not question her worth, I remain uncertain about how far to involve the young Firbolg in our complicated affairs. I look to Eliana for guidance.

She, in her turn, exchanges questioning glances with both Vaikner and myself. When neither of us objects, Elie starts to speak. She hesitantly explains how we three met and the tasks that we have taken on in the Deep. Quickly drawn into the tale, Vai and I break in with our own embellishments and corrections. Sister is an excellent listener. She attends in rapt silence, broken only by an occasional, pensive grunt. Telling her all that has happened passes a good deal of time and, before long, we arrive at the Southern Gate.

Soon we are back in the familiar bustle and surrounded by the myriad fragrances of the Deep. Sister stops, ignoring the crowds that eddy chaotically around her. She gazes at a nearby cabbage cart with deliberate off-handedness.

“I suppose that you are going to be heading back out to that haunted manor soon, then? For more hero stuff? I guess I will head home. That’s where I’ll be. In case anybody asks. I won’t be busy. Not doing too much: just looking after the goats…”

The innocence radiating from Sister’s face makes Eliana wince painfully.

“Would you like to join us when we fight the Hag, Sister? We could use your heroic assistance.”

“Yes.” Sister is nodding even while Eliana is still speaking. “Yes, I think I can do that.”

Chin proudly lifted, Sister leads us through Southern Ward. She directs us to a large, genteelly decaying manor. It is surrounded by a high stone wall. Approaching a sturdy wooden gate set into the wall, Sister knocks once. A solid loud thump.

“That is my special knock,” she explains. “That way my brother will know that it is me.”

Before long, a deeper version of Sister’s bass voice calls out in low tones from inside the gate.

“Sister, is that you?”

The gate swings open revealing a very tall Firbolg. He is slightly more slender than Sister but they share a commonality of feature that suggests close familial relationship.

Sister walks up to the Firbolg and they greet each other calmly, pressing foreheads gently together. Then they both turn dreamily thoughtful eyes to us.

“I am sorry.” The tall Firbolg rumbles. “For the excessively effusive greeting that you all just beheld. But it has been some time since I have seen my sister. And I am happy that she is well.”

Elie, Vai, and I murmur a polite chorus of demurrals.

“I am Brother.” Brother continues. “And I have been expecting you. Brother Helmsing received the messenger bird that you sent from the Meadery this morning, Sister.”

Sister nods solemnly.

“Elie asked me to send word to the Shrines that our task was completed and that we were returning today.”

“Yes. And Brother Helmsing, in his turn, sent a squirrel through the Deep to inform Lady Jeryth that you were planning to visit her today. Please, come in.” Brother says.

Our company follows Brother into a large walled courtyard. It is an jewel of rainbow life amongst the grays and browns of the Deep. We are surrounded by trees. The rays of the late morning sun filter greenly down to beds overflowing with blooming flowers. The air is very sweet.

A sudden wind stirs the fragrances artfully together as it dances through the courtyard. There is a susurrus as its passage is echoed by each rustling leaf and stem. Magic sings through the air.

“Welcome and Well Met, my Friends!” The low mirthful voice comes from all around us, rising and falling with the whispering leaves.

I look to Brother in surprise. He is bowing his head reverentially as the Garden speaks to us.

That is how we come to meet Lady Jeryth of Phaulkonmere, Chosen of Mielikki.

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I hope that you enjoyed this account of the Trio’s return journey to the Deep. Their triumph over the Walking Scarecrows is, at best, bitter-sweet as they bear witness to the harm and the grief caused by these distressing events. But they also find moments of laughter and choose to share greater confidence in each other. And, even as they grapple with their failure to save Lester Sweetwater, they meet new companions. Beings of great power and influence that will surely play an important role in the events to come…

For Larloch, hidden away in his fortress. Watching and plotting:

Rasputin, The Ayoub Sisters.