David Niemitz
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Guild Mage 65
🕑 Added 2025-01-08 20:40:55 +0000 UTCChapter 65: The Cottage Beneath the Willow
For all that Liv’s father had promised not to be gone long, and to hurry back to Whitehill, the first truly heavy snow of winter arrived before Valtteri Ka Auris did. Three days after she and Duchess Julianne had made their trip to the bank, the morning sun found the slopes of the mountains painted white.
Bald Peak was nearly blinding, above the tree line. Deer Peak, where she’d practiced making chutes of ice years before, and ridden shields down the mountain with Emma laughing the whole way, was closer still. Looking out her window, as Thora brushed out her hair, Liv had the sudden urge to run down to the armory, find a shield, and ride Steria up the mountain. Instead, she went down to the kitchen to retrieve her bones.
“Good morning,” Liv greeted her mother, Gretta, Archibald and the rest. Bacon and potatoes were frying up for breakfast in the great hall, and a line of apple tarts was cooling on the table. The newer servants ducked out of her way, but she managed to get a hug from her mother.
“Come for your bones, have you?” Gretta asked her with a grin. “They’re nice and dry now, and lightened up nicely. I’ve got them wrapped in a cloth, here.”
Together, they unrolled the old rag across the dining table, and Liv was pleased to see that the buck’s leg bones didn’t stink at all. She’d worried that small bits of flesh or gristle might prove difficult to remove, and the idea of a rotting stench hanging about her new wand had been her greatest hesitation in not using wood.
“Thank you,” Liv said, reaching out hesitantly to run a finger over one of the long bones. It didn’t feel any worse than the bone of a chicken or a pig, and she’d long since gotten over any squeamishness dressing a carcass. Still, she’d never carried a bone around as a tool, before. Carefully, she rolled the old rag back up, bundling the bones together lengthwise. Her next stop was to speak with Master Grenfell, which she managed at the table.
“The bones are ready,” she said, in between bites of apple tart. At Thora’s scandalized urging, she had allowed the maid to take the bundle up to her rooms, rather than bring them in to breakfast to show her teacher. “But I don’t know anyone in town who can do the job. Are we going to have to send them out somewhere? Do you know someone who can do the carving at Coral Bay?”
“Oh, more than a few,” the older mage said. “I expect there would be half a dozen journeymen practicing enchantment that could do the job. Of course, that means riding up to Bald Peak and using the waystone. And they’re going to charge you in gold for the work.”
“No,” Duchess Julianne broke in. “You want Auntie Rhea.”
“Really?” Liv asked. She hadn’t seen the old midwife in years, though steady shipments of mana-rich nuts, and dried herbs and berries, had never ceased to be delivered to the castle. “I wouldn’t ever have expected that.”
“She spent a year at Coral Bay, remember,” Julianne said. “Which means she took a course in enchanting. She’s likely to understand what you need, and she knows her way around carving knives. Rhea sells bits of bone jewelry, here and there. Ride on down to Fairford and talk to her. But make certain you don’t go alone - get one of the guards to ride with you.”
“We’re safe here, aren’t we?” Liv asked, frowning.
“From the queen? We should be, if Benedict keeps to his agreement,” Julianne said. “But there are also wolves, bears…”
“To say nothing of the fact you’re now of an age you shouldn’t be riding off alone,” Henry explained. “You may chafe at it, but being chaperoned is for your own good.”
In the end, she went with an old guard named Tobias, who seemed glad enough of an excuse to do a bit of riding in the snow. Liv had offered to take Thora along, but her maid had turned the idea down with a shiver. “No thank you, m’lady,” the girl had told her. “I’ll stay by the hearth in the kitchens, where its warm and I can have a cup of tea. Mind you don’t freeze off anything important.”
Despite wearing thick wool stockings, layered winter skirts, her fur-lined heavy cloak, and the gloves she’d used when dueling the princess, Liv was still thoroughly miserable by the time she’d reached Fairford and found her way to Auntie Rhea’s cottage, set back from the river under an old peach-leaf willow. The tree’s four trunks were half buried in snow, but they made a convenient place to tie up Steria.
It took knocking twice, with a pause between, before the old midwife answered the door. If she hadn’t been able to see and smell the woodsmoke from the chimney, Liv might have wondered whether anyone was at home.
“Who’s there, then?”
Liv blinked: in the years since riding out to face the eruption at Bald Peak, Rhea had aged considerably. When she’d come to the castle eighteen years ago, she’d still been a handsome woman in middle age, but now she seemed shrunken and bent, her hair gone entirely to gray. Even six years before, at Master Cushing’s funeral, the change hadn’t been so stark: but old age seemed to have caught up to the woman all at once.
“I’m not certain if you remember me, Mistress Rhea,” Liv began. “Liv Brodbeck, from up the castle? Duchess Julianne said you were the best one to speak to about doing a bit of bone carving.” She held up her package of bones bundled in cloth.
“Oh, I remember,” the old woman said. “Come on in, girl. And bring your guard, as well, so he doesn’t lose any of his toes.”
The inside of the cottage was warm enough, and redolent with the scents of garlic, sage and thyme, all hanging from the beams of the ceiling to dry. Liv pushed back her hood, tucked the package of bones under one arm, and peeled off her gloves.
“Tell me what you want, and let me see what you have,” Rhea said, so Liv followed her over to a low wooden table. There, she opened the bundle so that the bones were revealed.
“I’ve decided I need a wand instead of a staff,” Liv explained. “I want something I can wear on my belt, so that it’s always near to hand when I need it. We thought about using aspenwood again, but after a bit of planning with Master Grenfell and my father, we hunted down a buck in the shoals of the rift, instead. Duchess Julianne recommended I speak to you about the carving.”
Rhea’s hands traced over the bones, pushing a few aside. “It’s the shanks you want,” she said. “Nevermind the rest. Duchess Julianne, is it now? And your father? A lot must have changed up at the castle. You have the plans drawn out?”
“I do.” Liv hastily unfolded the paper she’d brought, to show the final drawing in pen and ink. In the meanwhile, Tobias found himself a seat on one of Auntie Rhea’s wooden stools.
“You don’t mind if I pack a pipe while you talk, mistress, do you?” the old soldier asked.
“A bit of pipe smoke smells sweet enough,” Rhea said. “Go right ahead while you warm up. Keeps the lungs dry. Let’s see here. I don’t think I’ve seen anything this complicated since I was at college. Three buttons, is it? How big of a stone are you planning to put in this handle, anyway? Can you actually afford this?”
“I have a pension from the king,” Liv explained, “that I haven’t done much with beside buy a dress here or there. And my father’s given me access to his accounts with the banking guild. The stone’s already commissioned and being polished by Mistress Joan.”
“Focusing sigils,” Rhea muttered, tracing her finger over the designs. “Those are easy enough, though you’ll need to get someone else to inlay them with silver or gold. I can do this.”
“Thank you!” Liv exclaimed.
“Hold up a moment, girl,” Rhea chided her, raising a hand. “I said I could do it, not that I would. It’s a lot of work, and my fingers ache, especially in the winter.”
“I can pay you,” Liv offered.
“Don’t have much use left for coin,” the old woman said. “Nor much time left to spend it in, I would guess. But it is nice to have someone else to talk to. I’ll tell you what, girl. I’ll carve your wand for you, if you’ll come along and help. You might learn a thing or two that will do you some good when you go off to college. And bring your father down, at least once. I want to hear what it’s like over the mountains.”
“I can do that,” Liv promised. “And next time I come, I can bring a few tarts or a pie from the kitchen, as well.”
“You have yourself a bargain, then,” Rhea said. “Now, clear the table of everything but those shanks I pulled out for you, and those plans. Drag over a chair while I dig up my knives and chisels.”
☙
Liv stayed the entire afternoon, and Rhea insisted she tell the story of what had happened at the capital while they worked. For her part, Liv did a lot of handing over tools, or cleaning them after they’d been put to use. The only thing that the old woman trusted her to do was a bit of work with a metal rasp, to begin the process of smoothing the outer surface of the bone. At mid-day they shared a bit of rabbit stew, from an iron pot hanging by the hearth, and Liv left with plenty of time for she and Tobias to make the journey back to Whitehill in time for the evening meal. She was relieved to find that her father had got there before them.
“I was starting to get worried,” Liv admitted, handing off her cloak and gloves to Thora before taking her seat at the high table. “Is that a cut on your cheek? Has Mistress Trafford seen to it?”
“Just a scratch,” her father said. “A gyrfalcon swooped down on me as I was waiting for the waystone to send me along. Thankfully, it had already swooped back up to circle around when the magic sent me along. I hear you found someone to do the bonework?”
“Duchess Julianne sent me to a woman in Fairford, just down the river,” Liv explained. “You’ll get to meet her soon enough; part of her price was that she wants to hear all about the lands north of the mountains.”
Valtteri laughed. “I suppose that is an easy enough price to pay. Here, I have a letter from your grandparents for you.” He passed a roll of parchment to her, and it occurred to Liv that in a land without trees, paper would be impossible to make. Meal forgotten, she unrolled the message and read:
To our granddaughter, Livara -
Words cannot express what an unlooked for joy it is for us to discover your existence. When your father rode south to learn the truth behind Ambassador Sakari’s message, we did not dare hope that his words could be true. Your father believed instantly, but perhaps it is a fault of hearts that have been broken too many times that we shied away from any risk of further pain.
Our son tells us that he will stay in the south for a while, so that he can teach you. We invite you to Kelthelis as soon as you wish, though we also understand - more than most - that is is not the easiest journey. Nevertheless, know that you will have a place here, whether you come tomorrow, or in ten years.
Your father made us a sculpture of you, in ice, so that we could see your face; but it is no substitute for the day when we can welcome you in our arms.
We are, your grandparents,
Auris ka Syvä
Eila Tär Väinis
“Liv?” Julianne called across the table gently. “Are you alright, dear?”
She raised a hand to her cheek, and found her skin wet. “I am,” Liv said, and carefully rolled up the parchment. “I was just a bit afraid of what they would write. That maybe they wouldn’t believe me.”
Her father placed a hand on her back, and it felt right.
☙
The winter quickly settled into a new routine.
Most days, Liv would ride down The Hill, first to the Old Oak, where her father took a room, and eventually to the townhouse he purchased through the bankers’ guild. It was mostly of red brick, with paned windows, two chimneys, and sharply peaked roofs that shook the snow off as easily as an eager hound.
For the morning, Liv would practice their family’s word of power. Some days, that meant sitting on a bench in the back garden, trying to keep herself warm by diverting waste heat from her spells to her own body. Her father forbid her from experimenting with new spells at the same time.
“I want you learning one new thing well, not scattering your mind in a million directions,” Valtteri told her. “Show more of your sculptures. Flowers, or soldiers, something you’ve done before. And shape your intent so that the heat you’re drawing away goes into you, and not just wherever the ambient mana takes it. Start with your fingers or toes, those are the easiest things to lose to frostbite.”
The first time she made it work, Liv managed to scald three fingers on her left hand. She shrieked at the sudden pain, lost control of her sculpture, and ended up with a disfigured monster of a swordswoman that might have been Triss’ hideous twin. That put an end to practice for that morning, and when she rode down to spend the afternoon with Auntie Rhea, it was with a salved and wrapped hand.
“I don’t know why you won’t just let me take an hour to heal it,” she complained to her father as they tied their horses up at the willow.
“Because it would take more than an hour,” her father said. “But it will be good practice for you tonight.”
Liv’s father ended up coming with her to Fairford more than once; he understood the plans for her wand better than she did, and didn’t seem to mind telling the old woman stories of wolves with crowns of ice and bone, bears that cold call an icestorm, or even the rusted hulks of metal that sometimes crawled out of the Tomb of Celris.
“It doesn’t seem to fit, does it?” Liv said, while she cleaned dust from the bone. “I know the Crosbie’s have to deal with things like that out of the Foundry Rift, but I wouldn’t have thought they’d mix with ice monsters.”
“Once Antris perfected his machines of war, he built them for the other Vædim, as well as for himself,” Valtteri explained. “You can still see the frozen ruin of one of the great engines of war at the southern end of the canyon. I’ll show you some day. We’re lucky he was killed before he could build any more.”
On other mornings, Liv’s father demonstrated how to make a blade or a wall of ice that was dense and hard as metal. They borrowed Master Grenfell for that, and one of the guards, so that she could see the difference between her own creations, and those of her father.
Where Liv’s sword broke consistently by the second parry - not that she was allowed to be the one wielding it - her father’s didn’t so much as chip. Master Grenfell was eventually able to burn his way through Liv’s walls, unless she kept adding layers of ice to thicken them, but again, Valtteri’s were far more resistant even to magical fire.
“Astonishing,” Grenfell had declared, after the tests were complete. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me listen in on how you do it?”
Liv’s father considered that for a moment. “I don’t see the harm,” he finally decided. “And you have taken good care of Livara’s training for years now. Consider it a sign of gratitude. You don’t have the word of power imprinted anyway. But I will ask you not to share with the guild, or at least not without my permission.”
“It looks just like normal ice,” Liv said, poking at her father’s wall again. Master Grenfell gathered his cloak around him and sat down on one of the garden benches.
“That is because it is made of the same basic elements,” her father explained. “The only difference is in the arrangement. It is a matter of shape, at the absolute smallest level. You see, when water freezes, it arranges itself into tiny crystals in the shape of six sided patterns, almost like rings. Look closely at a snowflake, sometime, and you’ll get an idea. But when you squeeze it very tightly, it takes on different shapes. When you make it dense enough,” Valtteri finished, and waved a hand at the wall, “this is what you get.”
“Fascinating,” Master Grenfell remarked.
“Go ahead, Livara, give it a try,” her father said. It was only later that evening that she realized his smile should have been a warning to her.
“Squeeze it really tight,” Liv said, nodding. “Alright. That shouldn’t be so hard.”
Comments
Dave N
not to be confused with the real ice ix lol
Beeees!
Look up ice IX if you haven't heard of it before. It's a fictional phase from the book Cats Cradle which has world ending implications
Dave N
I love it that you know about phases of ice! :)
Beeees!
So many different phases of Ice, I for one am a fan of cubic ice which is found on earth technically (deeeep underground, has been found trapped in diamonds). Now what we really want to avoid is making Ice IX lol.
Dave N
Fixed, thank you!
John Koor
who seemed glad enough of an excuse to do a bite of riding - bit
Dave N
If only I could!
307Bookworm_AOB
Anyone else feel there should be a new chapter release every 15 minutes? just sayin :-D
ashsalt
fair enough on both counts, thanks for the chapter! interested to see just how much vaedic blood liv has then. i assumed 1/8th, but might be closer to 1/4 after all
Dave N
we'll see the family in more detail when we get up north :)
Tarrim
I always guessed she wasn't his first partner
Dave N
If you happen to point them out I'll fix them, and if you don't I imagine we'll catch them on RR
Andreas Kristensen
Yeah its definately a balance to be found. I wouldnt want it to turn into a full-on cultivation novel either, but some progression is always appreciated
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter! I've found I think 3 minor typos? But without the super convenient editing function of RR I don't have the time and patience to copy all the lines by themselves and write down here rn, I might go do it later but just as an FYI if you are bored/have someone who wants to do stuff like looking over chapters again^^ Also I love the character interactions, they are all so well written and feel super organic and natural!
Dave N
oh good! I've tried to lean into it, as people seem to really enjoy that aspect
Dave N
The Eld have a habit of matching people with Vaedic blood with each other to try to preserve the power of the bloodlines. Grandma's got a good bit of it, also. As to what Granpa thinks vs what Dad admits... Valtteri kept his doubts to himself. We don't always say what we're thinking :)
Andreas Kristensen
Love this training arc!
ashsalt
the letter says valtteri believed he had a daughter instantly but literally the first thing he says to liv is "i didn't know whether to believe it" also, how on earth is liv's grandmother still alive? her grandfather is half god, and is on the frail side, i assumed anyone he had had a child with would have been dead by now
Dave N
Good catch! I'll make some adjustments
Tarrim
The chapter seems to imply Liv hadn't seen the midwife since the eruption but the last time she saw her was after master Cushing died a lot more recently.
