Land of Salvania

  "You are too loud," Greenfoot whispered more than once as we traversed the endless forest. "Can you breathe less?" I suspected my little Yunni guide with elaborate, dyed hair would be happy enough if I stopped breathing permanently. But, So far, he had proven trustworthy, although I still sensed he was annoyed at being picked to guide me. The Yunni chief, a withered creature even smaller than my guide had insisted that his nephew Greenfoot lead me away from their hunting territory as expeditiously as possible. "Stop," Greenfoot hissed. "They are watching us." I stopped and knelt behind Greenfoot so I could hear him better. "Greetings," he called into the empty forest. "I am Greenfoot of the North Clan. I am taking my friend to the White River." "What is his business in Yunni lands?" The voice was close, but I still could not see the speaker. "He is lost and confused. You know the Big People cannot find ...

  He was the last. He was last of the queen's special group of healers, the gaggle of five misfits she had collected in her first year. He stood on the scoured mountain top while the ceaseless wind whipped his Mabon fire. Sandar had died of old age years ago. Then Kal and Venin died in the war in the same year, one in winter and one in summer. The last was just this year. Galean the Fair, they had called her. She was the best of them all, now she was gone. Now, the apprentices called him Walda the Wise. As if being the last somehow meant he was wiser than the others. Ridiculous notion. Walda watched the fire crackle and found little in this year's equinox to give him balance. It should have been a time of harmony and setting new intentions. He should be thankful for the harvest and the new peace after so much war. He was the last. It kept weighing on his thoughts. Walda could still see them all around the first Mabon fire. Young (except Sandar) and full of vigor, a li...

  "Follow Farsinger," the small Yunni shaman said, her bracelets jingling as she ladeled more stew into her guest's bowl. The raven heard her name and stirred from her nap on the pronounced bosom of a carved fertility totem. Farsinger looked at the guest, a human healer from the White River village, and cooed in Ravenspeech, "Yes, I know the way, friend Don-lee-sar." The healer nodded thanks to the large black bird. Then he turned to the Yunni. "You have seen the artifact yourself?" "I have," she replied. "They have no idea how important it is." Two weeks later, Farsinger landed on a thatched roof and squawked, "We are here." The healer waved greetings to a few dirty children who ran into a nearby cottage. He waited just a moment, and a woman came outside, wiping her hands on her apron. "Hello," he said with a friendly bow. The lady nodded without a reply. "My name is Donlisar. I am a healer traveli...

  The old shaman needed an obscure spice called turmeric. He had his youngest son accompany him on a rare visit to White River. "It is the name they have given to the river, the castle, and the town surrounding the castle," the old shaman said. "Creative bunch," his son quipped. "I once heard it described as a wretched hive of scum and villainy," the old shaman said with a secret smile and a wink. "We must be cautious." /// Copyright (Special thanks to Old Ben Kenobi.)

  "Milady queen wishes you good health, Great Healer. She cautions you and all newcomers to take care in the hills. Trolls are on the move, none knows why. I heard some speculation from the fishmonger's daughter that every 27 years, the trolls pick a new leader. The wresting and fighting is savage, I hear. I hear a lot in my travels. I suspect that is why Milady queen asks me to greet all visitors. Why, just last week, I greeted a giant brute of a Northman with tattoos from his fingernails to his earlobes. Nice enough fellow, but he used butter to slick back his hair, and it had gotten rancid..." The healer let the queen's emissary continue for a full five minutes. The little bird may have gone on forever, but a shadow obliterated the sun. "Oh, dear," the bird squeaked. "I must go now. The dragon Hom is visiting today, and he may have news. Goodbye." The healer smiled as the little gossip sped away, chasing the enormous creature while castle horns ...

“The green glamour is upon you now,” the Yunni shaman said. “Those with the inner sight may still be able to see you, so beware. The faeries of the forest will see you as easily as always, but few others will notice more than a shadow drifting at the corner of their eyes.” The healer felt somehow lighter. It was like he had removed a heavy pack basket he had been lugging up a mountain trail. “My skin feels...strange. Like it is tingling.” “Yes, the mushrooms in my potion do that sometimes. I find it quite pleasant.” The healer nodded. “So the effect will fade when I leave the forest?” “Yes. My power is modest.” The small Yunni smiled. Modest? The healer chuckled. Even the most haughty, bejeweled wizard visiting the queen’s court had never claimed they could make a man invisible. “This glamour will only fool the eyes. Ears and noses can sense you, so you could still find your way into a troll’s belly.” /// Copyright