The Iron Forest: Ancestor's Legacy

Taking the pass around the north side of Eagle Mountain was a gamble. Sana knew the risk, but time was a luxury she couldn’t afford. The attempt she and Victor made to cross the narrow pass ended in failure, but with warmer spring air keeping the wind and ice at bay, she hoped to have better luck. Every step she took reminded her of her near-death experience. Wind continued to howl across the ridge as if the mountain refused to let her pass. She fought the urge to quit using her love for the Shankur and Victor as shields against whatever the mountain could throw at her.

Winds carried snow and ice upward in the distance like arms taunting her—daring her to come forward. One foot after the other, she climbed with spear in hand and feet sinking in white powder to her knees. Her bones ached while hunger churned her stomach.

“Not today,” she said to the mountain through howling wind. “You will not defeat me today.”

A narrow ledge skirted a steep cliff—the same cliff that almost killed her and Victor. She shuffled with her back against the rocky face and spear across her back. Small stones broke loose beneath her feet and disappeared into the endless void below.

“Not today.”

It started with a crack and shift in the rocky ledge. Sana grabbed hold of the cliff, but it was too late. The ledge crumbled below her feet.

With a quick grasp of sharp rock, she held on, dangling. Stone tore into her hand, sending pain up her arm. She pulled one hand after another till her weight rested back on the ledge. Her heart pounded. Cold and fear froze her to the cliff. She couldn’t move—the mountain was winning.

Tears streamed down her face and blood on her hands made them slick. I can’t.

“Sana,” a voice call from within the wind.

She lifted her head and saw nothing but rushing clouds of snow and the cliff face.

“Sana.”

This time, she recognized the voice. “Ikesh?”

“Not today,” he soothed.

“But I can’t.” She glanced at the gap. Even a running start would make the jump a challenge. “It’s too far.” Her teeth began to chatter.

“Have faith in yourself. You will not die. Not today.”

She leaned upright with her back against the cliff; her joints refused to bend.

“Not today, Sana. You have to fight.”

Sana glared at the ledge and took a deep breath. “Not today.”

She leaped. Her top half made the distance, leaving her lower half dangling. She felt herself slipping down into the abyss. With gritted teeth, Sana held on and pulled.

“Not today!” she shouted as she slid onto the ledge. Puffs of frozen breath joined the wind from her labored breathing. She crossed the gap, feeling pride, but she had to keep moving. Cold bore at her with exhaustion’s tight grip. The mountain still threatened her chance to see Victor again and her vengeance against the Chotukhan.

She rounded the large granite boulder to the downhill trail and smiled as warmth came quicker than expected. She followed the trail down the slopes, knees burning. Her body protested at every step. Every tree along the path rescued her from falling. She stumbled forward to grab hold of the course bark, only to shift to the next tree and the next.

*****

Sana woke on layered cotton stuffed with goose down. She blinked away the crust around her eyelids to see a fire crackling under a stew pot. The hearth of stone at the center of a house that was made from oiled wood decorated with bundles of dry herbs and mounted fauna.

Pain surged through her temples; every muscle aching in sore bones. Where am I? She studied the room for clues to its inhabitants. Slowly, Sana sat up.

“You’re awake,” a woman’s voice proclaimed with excitement. “I was afraid we were going to lose you. Mother Gaia must not be ready for you yet.”

Sana rubbed her forehead. “Where am I?” She looked to see an old woman stirring a spoon in the kettle. She was as round as the gray bun in her hair, dressed in over-sized garments of white rough-spun cloth.

The old woman gave a grandmotherly smile. “You’re in my house, of course.”

“Where’s here?”

“Oh. How silly of me. You are in Horval. But I’m sure you never heard of this place.”

“Horval? Yes, I heard of it.”

The old woman’s brow raised in curiosity. “You have? That’s surprising, since we are a small hamlet tucked away in the mountains. I don’t think there is a map written that would waste the ink to mark our town.”

Sana smiled. “I only know of this place by an acquaintance.” Her father was insistent she knew all the towns in the western lands, but she didn’t want to reveal that detail to her new host.

“Would never have guessed.” The old woman slapped her forehead. “My stars! Where are my manners? You can call me Lady Telsa. I am the governess of this village. And you are?”

“Sana. My name is Sana.”

“A fitting name for one as pretty as you,” Lady Telsa said. She stirred the steaming contents some more. “You must be famished. Here, I made a big pot of venison stew. Help yourself.” She waddled over to hand Sana a filled wooden bowl and a slice of bread.

The steam hit Sana with pleasant aromas of sage and juniper, but she had no idea how much time passed or how long it would take to get back to the trail she’d been on. “Thank you, but I must decline. I should be going.”

Lady Telsa’s smile vanished. “I don’t want to sound like an old woman, but you need to eat. My grandson found you half dead and carried you here. It would be an insult to Mother Gaia if I let you leave in your condition, only to die out there in the wilderness.” She crossed her arms. “I won’t take no for an answer… Now eat.”

The savory broth hit her empty stomach with a warm euphoria. Only a few minutes passed before the bowl’s bottom became empty.

Lady Telsa returned with a full ladle. “That’s better. Another bowl and you’ll be fit as an elk.” She poured the stew as quick as Sana could eat. It was the best and only meal she had in days.

The front door slammed, and Sana jerked to see a massive man with a bundle of logs that appeared like branches beneath his thick arms. A tangled nap of red hair matched freckles that dotted his boyish face. He froze when his eyes connected with Sana’s.

“It’s about time, Lem,” the old woman scolded. “I wondered if you grew the tree before cutting it down. The fire’s dying and I’m catching a chill.” She rested her fist on her hips at his silence. “Lem?”

The man kept staring at Sana with a dumb look. Sana shifted her eyes around the room, feeling awkward.

“Lem!” Lady Telsa shouted with a slap to the back of his head. The logs tumbled to the floor. “Where’s your manners? You act as if you’ve never seen a woman before. Get that wood in the fire before it goes cold.”

“Sorry, Grandmother,” he said, quickly bundling up the logs.

Lady Telsa gave Sana a comforting smile. “Allow me to apologize for my grandson, dear. We don’t get many outsiders around here.”

Sana tried not to appear nervous since she knew little of these people. They were not Chotukhan, Atani, or Shankur, but they seemed hospitable. Would they recognize me? Do they even care? She forced a chuckle. “It’s quite alright. It is I who should apologize for imposing on your nice people. I can’t thank you enough.”

“There will be no more of that talk,” Lady Telsa shook her head. “It was fortunate that Lem was out hunting when he found you. He walked in, late as usual, with a deer in one hand and you over his shoulder.”

Sana glanced over to the big man and gave an appreciative nod. “Then you have my thanks.”

He waved off the gesture. “It was nothing. You weigh less than the deer.”

The old woman slid into a chair in front of Sana and took a seat. The wood creaked under her round frame. “So, tell me. What was a good-looking girl as yourself doing out alone in the woods?”

Sana shifted from Lady Telsa and Lem, unsure if she was being interrogated now or still the subject of concern. “I’m on my way to Dirasha.”

“That’s a long way from here.” Lady Telsa tapped her fingers on her lips. “Many dangers from both man and nature along the way. We have a cart leaving in two days to Chomenu. That will get you over halfway. I insist you don’t travel alone.”

Sana rose to her feet and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Thank you for your offer and your hospitality, but I can’t wait two days. I must leave as soon as possible.”

“If you must. I can’t make you stay, but venturing out into the wild alone is suicide.”

“Your concern is respectable, but please don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

Lady Telsa grinned. “No doubt. You remind me of a young woman long ago—strong, willful, and stubborn.” She gestured to herself. “Now a fat old woman with a worthless grandson.”

“Hey!” Lem protested.

Sana giggled. “I’m sure you are still young at heart and just as strong, willful, and stubborn.” She bowed. “Again, you have my thanks.”

Muffled shouts and screams sounded through the walls. “What in Gaia’s name is going on out there?” Lady Telsa asked, jumping to her feet.

Lem pushed open the door to the cool midday air. Men and women with children ran about. One man slung across another’s shoulder bled a trail from the town center.

Sara darted outside with Lem; Lady Tesla close behind.

Lady Telsa snatched a fleeing girl holding a crying bundle in her arms. “What’s happening?”

“Reapers! They’re attacking the village!”

Sana’s anger boiled. She never heard stories about Reapers crossing Gaia’s Wall from the Outlands. Has Abaddon awakened, or is this Gaia’s doing? “I need a weapon!”

Lady Telsa shook her head as Lem disappeared back into the house. “We’re trappers. We don’t have weapons.” She backed away as distant trees shook, tossing clouds of snow from atop evergreen branches. A metallic clunk of steel feet on earth sounded from behind the trunks.

The machines were closing in.

“For you!” Lem shouted, appearing in the doorway, throwing her spear underhanded.

She snatched it with one hand and gave a thankful nod. “Stay here and tend to the villagers.”

“And what are you going to do?” Lady Telsa asked.

“I’m returning a favor.”

Just then, a Reaper emerged from the trees, slicing through low-lying branches. Its glowing red eye pulsed at Sana, but instead of attacking, it paused to allow a second machine to join the fight. Adrenalin pumped through her body. They stared her down like predators sizing up prey. She engaged her spear that glowed with a lightning blue radiance. The blade’s edge crackled with white fire.

The two beasts slashed meeting Sana’s spear in a shower of sparks and light. She spun, dodged, and flung her spear in a bright blue arc that tore into steel like it was flesh. Their armor lost its meaning to the glow of her blade. For a quick second she thought there was fear in the Reapers’ glowing red eyes.

They attacked once, twice, but Sana turned and parried with blurring attacks of her own. Her weapon bore deep into steel, leaving glowing red gashes of oil and slag. Machine parts groaned in anger, pouring fluids from open wounds. They backed a step and lunged with another attack.

Sana crouched low with her spear gripped tight. She darted between the two, twisting to put her weapon in two places at once. A final spray of sparks and fire sent the Reapers toppling to the dirt. Their internal parts wined down to silence with glowing red eyes fading to black.

She knelt on one knee, catching her breath. She saw the villagers formed an audience—their eyes widened with disbelief.

Sana looked away. Chunks of homes torn down to splinters from the machine’s destructive path. Several dead men littered the streets with the cries of their loved ones’ wailing in shock. The sight brought tears to her eyes. “Have they attacked your village before?”

Lady Telsa shook her head. “Never. We’re only a half day’s walk from the Outlands, but they never bothered us before.”

“Why now? Why attack all of a sudden?” Sana thought aloud. Even in her own village, she never remembered a Reaper crossing from the Outlands into Shankur territory. These, however, were different. They seemed more focused than randomly attacking Horval.

Lem offered, “Maybe they got lost and found this place by chance.”

Sana disagreed. “No. I’ve never seen Reapers travel in pairs before. When they saw me, it’s as if they knew me. Their reactions were different.” She watched two men carry a young man with a slash from shoulder to bellybutton. Others dispersed to begin the cleanup. “King Shunlin is getting closer to waking Abaddon. I need to leave soon, before more of those machines cross over from the Outlands.”

“I understand, but first I’ll get you some supplies for the trip.”

Sana waved off the kind gesture. “Thanks, but you’ve done enough for me already.”

“Nonsense!” Lady Telsa said, and pointed at her grandson. “Lem, run and fetch some food and water. And be quick about it.”

As she waited, she took a glance around before focusing on the forest. There were many other villages like this that relied on her stopping King Shunlin and unleashing death across the land.

Not today.