Author: Susanna Lauder-Dehlawi

The Night Lord’s Feast

Embla and I walk through the lavish halls, hands clasped tightly together, searching for what should be empty plates. Instead, the host stands at a heavy-laden table and loudly offers slices of cake and pie; welcoming everyone to share in his generosity. If only they could understand how much she will have to suffer on their behalf, to cover their indulgences.

“If only there was food to eat, I am so hungry, but there is none” Caterina’s accent makes the words sound a little strange, but never has companionship been such a balm. She didn’t know our traditions, but she was the first to listen and follow along when Embla explained it. Lord Rennett and his friends could learn a great deal from her.

Walking to our beds after leaving the feast, our conversation is interrupted by a shadow moving in the darkness, and a hissing noise from behind us. We all run, Caterina the only one of us with the presence of mind to yell “Vampire!” as she does. My own scream of “Help!” is cut off as I am knocked to the ground, my blood pooling beneath me. If only I had been aware sooner, I could have done more than just put my body between Embla and our foe. If I don’t recover, at least I will have died protecting her.

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Digging the Graves of the Kallevik Wolves

I stare at Vestri’s body, the armor I just finished now torn and bloodied. My gaze moves to Virgil’s body next to him. The half-finished armor in my bag grows heavy, weighed down by the deep wounds my work might have prevented. If only my fingers were faster. If only I knew how to craft better armor. Under different circumstances that might have helped them survive, but not in a fight against The She-Wolf. I shudder as I wonder if they fought more than just Her children.

As my arms tire, my mind goes back to the beginning of this day; when Tempest was jokingly telling everyone they were either ‘Vogel’ or ‘Not Vogel’ and put me in the first group. If only I could earn such an honor, to be grouped with the Savior of The Hunt. Now that I am the only ‘Vogel’ left alive, his story must be told.

Later that night, I tell Gren and Caterina what Embla and I have discussed. This place no longer feels safe, perhaps especially because the Disir were here. The way I see it, we have two options. We could stay here and work to support the people that so many have died for on this day. Or we could go find Neccio; and tell the stories of the dead on our way. None of us need to discuss our options or time to think on our choices. We will stay long enough to help at the farms to end the Drudgery; but after that we are gone. If only we could stay.

As we eat lunch before Convocation, Shadow Step approaches our table to say “I am looking for folks who can be unobserved for a task later today. If you know of someone, please send them to me.”

“What exactly do you need them to be able to do?” I reply, picturing hours spent silently in a hunter’s blind, barely moving until the time is right to let an arrow fly.

He explains “We need people who can move in the darkness without being seen by guards”

“If I know of someone, I will send them your way” I reply, dismayed at the memory of loud gravel crunching beneath my feet. If only their work was in the forest, or if only I was better suited for more crowded places.

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A few days after Forum, I sit alone in a patch of sunlight; hunched over bits of padding and scraps of leather; muttering my thoughts to myself as an armor sleeve slowly takes shape.

“Should we ask our clan for help?” Embla had asked this not long before she left to scout.

My answer tasted bitter on my tongue. “No, we know what their answer would be. They showed it when they sent us away”

An interesting twist of fate, that we find another Snow Lion trying to uncover what happened to the Stone Antlers. If only we could help him. If only they would come when we called. If only we could show them what we have made of ourselves upon their arrival.

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Preparing for Disblot

“Why must you be the Speaker for these people we hardly know, and for this place we just arrived at?”

I don’t bother to ask Embla this, because I already know the answer. Lord Rennet’s invitation to his Night Lords Feast the same night as the ceremony proves that no one here has ever felt the gaze of The World while they work. If only I had paid better attention to Mama, then I could be the one to bear the aching hunger and the sting of deception carved into my hands.