Chapter 2

Haven

Present day

Echoes in time

In early October, the wind rustled in Haven's hair. She travelled across the side of a large mountain ridge in the river city of Havenview. She'd been out on the hunt for elk, deer, and small game for three days, but the weather was turning and she'd need to return back to The View soon.

Out on the ridge overlooking the city the trees stretched like the extensive ocean to the west. She could see the blue water in the distance to the west and if she closed her eyes she could imagine the sand on her feet. She smelled the autumn wind and listened to the crumpling leaves under foot. The ridge she stood on sloped upwards almost vertically and from where she stood overlooking the city she had a 360 degree view below her of the surrounding woods. The river which ran through the city and turned its course behind the mountain she stood looking down from coursed with a fast current and then in some parts petered out becoming only a trickle with large barriers of rocks. The docks below, with small ships anchored to their sides, were empty as the Waterkin prepared for the winter.

Havenview was the final stop on the way to Valendrith, the capitol city of Althandria.

The Waterkin clans had long since called The View home. It held the largest ports before reaching Althandria and often bustled with commerce, both by ship, and by land.

Recently it had been quiet. There were rumblings of war—and the five years of peace seemed to be coming to an end.

Haven looked below at the city and watched the few merchants carts that entered through the draw bridge pulled by large brown draft horses. There seemed to be fewer and fewer travelers recently which did not bode well.

For thousands of years war between the Althandrians and the Vesperons had raged. They never truly had peace in the land as the Vesperon army always sought the Althandrian's resources. The Althandrian's capitol, Valendrith, had never been invaded but it had come close twenty years before. Much of the Althandrian's hillside towns and farms had been impacted by the thousand year war. It often felt to Haven like she had to pick a side, and there was a deep foreboding within her.

She felt her brows draw tight together at the thought and took a deep breath as she scanned the horizon. She released her breath slowly and then looked over at the silver and blue water to the west. It guided her eye as she took in the city below.

The thousand year war and the war coming was the same war that had been fought generations before it and would be fought generations after it. There were new Kings, or Queens if you were Vesperion, and sometimes they called it a new war or tried to give it a new purpose but it was all the same: money, greed, and power.

Haven knew the way it sounded before the war came. The quiet that befell the land as the lingering whispers drove themselves into the ears of the men and women in the tavern, or as they purchased meat or bread at the stalls, the whispers hushing the city. She would hear them say, "The Gods be on our side." But everyone claimed it, all of the wars before had been fought with the Gods on one or the others side. If it wasn't a mans war, it was a Gods war.

Haven pondered the thought as she looked towards the clouds. The rain wouldn't fall for another evening, but she should return to camp and prepare herself. Her brother would be looking for her if she didn't return to the View by dawn. Haven turned on her heel and began the sloping track up large boulders which paved the way to her camp.

She thought of the Thousand Year War. She hated everything about it. She felt the familiar tug in her stomach of hatred and anxiety. The war that had stolen her father from her, that broke her mother.

The Vesperons believed that the Gods of War themselves backed their cause while the Althandrian's often told the same lie. What did it matter as long as men fought their wars for them? Where were these so called Gods now?

Haven ducked under the canopy of a large aspen tree and let the sun soak her arms and face through the shade. She took a moment to breath, leaning against the white trunk of the tree and feeling the dark green moss under her hand.

She wondered at the story of the Two Kings. Had they been real? Two brothers, so enraged at one and other that they split the kingdom over an argument about which of their ball teams was best. Haven understood the folly of men, and some part of her believed it.

But was it ever about a game? Or was it always about pride between men? Haven considered the Two Kings, who had long since died leaving behind their forgotten war. Did they all fight for them now, or had their reasons for battle long since been forgotten? Haven slipped a hand down her leg and pulled free her knife, slicing a piece of moss from the tree. She put the moss in her pack, and then carried on towards her camp.

No one wanted to hear her musings, "Who stood to gain from the war besides the ruling class?" She would often ask her brother Kai, or Halex. They would laugh and tell her to lighten up. They had enlisted at the first chance when they hit the required age.

Haven didn't care for the old Gods, or even the new ones that were sometimes claimed by a few. She didn't like that her wins, her luck, her strength could be attributed to anyone besides herself. Instead she believed in the ground she walked in, the smell of dirt on the wind, and mulch as it crunched beneath her feet.

She thought of her solemn mother who had prayed at the alter of Nyx as long as Haven could remember. Now that her father was lost her mother seemed to pray at the alter even three times a day.

Haven considered the Gods of War: Wrath, Gore, and Belacrus. The triplets, as they were known. Born from the ground of the blood of armies. She knew Halex and Kai would pray to them, sending out prayers nightly for protection. But where were these gods now? Where were they when The View succumbed to invasion?

Had the triplets grown tired of mortal men?

She listened to the chirping of a woodpecker as she passed beneath it high up in a tree. She tapped the tree it was pecking at and it flew off into the sun. She laughed as she marveled at its beautiful wings outstretched above. She sat below the tree the woodpecker had flown from and leaned her back against it feeling its cool bark.

Haven leaned her head against the tree and watched the river below. The waters were cold as the end of fall turned to winter. A few children fished at the river where the water grew still and the rocks slowed the rushing current. She paid them no mind, the Waterkin were born to swim, and were known for their skills.

The children played in the water, some casting out lines and others splashing one and other. She could see from afar a teenage girl she knew from the town watching the younger children and smiling. She wore a bright red dress that Haven could spot for miles.

She smiled at their lack of care and in many ways envied them. Their voices carried on the wind as they laughed and shouted to one and other. Haven felt she had been born different. She had never cared for these things, always pondering life, and its meaning. She wished she could be free in the way the children below her were.

Haven looked to the city on the left, and moved her feet to readjust for comfort as she leaned her head back. She took ample breaks here. She didn't know how long it would be until she could sneak away again, or when Halex and Kai would have watch.

She crunched fallen orange and brown leaves beneath her feet and squished them till they became dust. It reminded her to collect more scarlet leaf for her mother. She hooted into the forest as she tilted her head back and absorbed the sun. It was good to let the forest know where you were in the woods. She clapped her hands to announce her presence, not wanting to surprise a bear and then she stood to begin the vertical climb once more. She used a tree root to step up towards the large boulders and then she grabbed hold of tree limbs to hoist her way. She was almost to her camp now.

Her yellow trail marker stood out, a torn piece of cloth that she had used to mark the way back to her camp. She wondered at the recent rumors and longed to know what new information the men at the drawbridge would bring. If the Vesperons were gathering their forces, and the war was to resume what would it mean for The View and her father? What would it mean for her and all the others like her?

Haven felt the soft grass and wet mud beneath her feet. It had rained only days before and in the dense trees the ground was still soft beneath her feet. She followed her tracks from earlier that morning and the yellow fabric to her camp. Along the way she spotted owl tracks and wondered what would bring an owl to the ground for so long?

She shrugged her shoulder and kept following her markers until she was finally close to the clearing that was her camp. It was one more push before she would be able to sit and rest.

Her stomach grumbled and she licked her lips at the thought of cooking the fish she had caught only an hour before. She longed to taste the flaky meat, and cook it on a stick over a small fire.

Haven pushed aside a branch with a hand and then stepped forward into the clearing where her supplies were hidden. She walked calmly into the small clearing and then to her tent which was hung by a line between two trees. She ducked into the tent and onto the pelt which lay on the ground. She felt the sun through the soft white tent and left open the entrance so it could beat down on her face. She was calm as she thought of her father. Had it really already been five years since the Vesperon's had fled The View?

Twenty years before Havenview had been overrun by the Vesperons and it had almost cost the Althandrian's the war. Haven's mother had named her after The View. Her mother had hopes that despite Haven's hair, and distinct Vesperon features, being named after Havenview would lead to her being treated with some kindness by her peers.

Sometimes Haven wondered if her mother had been unwilling, would the women have taken pity on them and made it easier for Haven and her mother? But no, her father hadn't been an evil man, and Haven had been made of love.

The problem lie in that the Waterkin were known for only forming one Soul Tie, but her mother had formed two. Her first husband, and then Haven's father. To the Waterkin, this was punishable by death for women and a man would lose his right to land, and to hunt. Haven's patronage had protected her family from any of the Vesperon soldiers abuse after the city was taken but it did not save them from the townspeople's.

Haven turned onto her stomach and imagined her brothers face, his blond shimmering hair, strong cheek bones, and bright blue eyes. She thought of his smile, and then of their mother's. They were so alike in their mannerisms yet so different in the way they looked. She pictured her mothers dark curls, olive skin, short stature, and green eyes which the Waterkin were known for. Could looking different really be so bad?

Now The View was a myriad of skin tones and hair colors instead of the odd blonde or red head here or there. She imagined Halex, his piercing almost green eyes, dark brown hair, and olive skin. That was how everyone was now after all the women had abandoned their Soul Ties. What were the women to do? Isolate? Suffer indefinitely? The women assumed many of their husbands were dead, and most of them had been quite young when the occupation had begun.

Haven sighed lifting her shirt from her back and pulling it to the side. Why was she plagued with these thoughts? What was it about her that she couldn't turn her mind off or to softer things? More feminine things like love, or gathering flowers? Was something wrong with her?

She let the sun hit her shoulders and tan her skin. She had always been too pale, more pale than the others were and it made her stand out. When she was a child the other children had made fun of her for her fair skin and their mothers would say it was because she was the first of the Vesperon born to the Waterkin. "She's got something wrong with her." She could still hear the whispers if she closed her eyes hard enough. "That one's strange." Haven was strange, she knew it, they knew it, and her mother knew it. She was nothing like Halex, or Kai, or her sister Valessia.

She was restless, kicking her legs out and turning onto her side, then her stomach once more. She wanted to nap, take in the breeze, and return home. She had expected more heirs, or small game to be caught in her traps. She suspected the owl tracks were from an owl that had taken it upon itself to release one of her captive squirrels. She had loaded her pack with fish, but this was something she could've done closer to home. She looked out at the nearly empty bear hanging 15 feet above her in the trees. Two hares dangles and a few fish. It would have to do.

As she rested her head on a rolled up pelt she looked across open meadow and at the trees. The hey swayed in the wind, their branches reaching towards the sky. She wanted to be like them, free to rest in the breeze and climb towards the sun. Whenever she came here she was reminded of her father. She felt closer to him here, as if when she laid in this tent, and looked up at the trees she could imagine he was here with her.

He had taken her here fifteen years ago and this was where they came for weeks at a time when they hunted. Sometimes Kai would join them, or Valessia, but mostly it was just she and her father.

"Vesperion women can hunt Haven," He had leaned down and told her when she was only five years old. "You have that blood inside you and that makes you as capable as any other man or woman. Never mind these archaic Waterkin rules about men this women that. Do what fills you with joy and makes you feel proud of yourself and your accomplishments. Never listen to these Waterkin and their old ways."

She remember her first kill, she could still smell the metallic blood of the hare as she pierced through its warm stomach. She had cried as she did it, watching the blood as it ran down the knife.

Her father had told her, "Never forget that feeling when you take a life no matter how small or large. Every creature deserves respect and kindness."

She winced, thoughts of her father filling her with pain. She'd always thought if he were to flee he would've taken her with him. Something had always felt off about the way he left. She could see it in her mothers fallen face, the way at night when she crept past the barn doors she would spy her mother weaving baskets staring into the distance. It was as if she expected her father to return, slip into the barn as he always did, and walk her mother inside.

Now it had become Haven's job, or her siblings. "He's gone mama." Her brother would say. Haven took a softer approach sitting with her mother first before lifting her hang in her own and leaning into her.

"He'll come back for us one day." It was their ritual, and each of her siblings had their own nightly routine with their mother to bring her home.