Page 13 of Where the Shadows Land (Garden of Hope #1)

ASTORIA

F or the first time since she lost her family, Astoria woke up looking forward to the day.

Whatever Mairuk weaved into the magic they breathed into her lungs brought pure bliss, then sent her into a restful sleep a few hours later.

It took her body several days to recover from the infection.

Each morning, Mairuk came to her bedside to administer their careful healing.

By Her Light, Mairuk’s magic was better than anything else ever used on her.

Healing magic, gifted by Soleil, burned and seared across the skin, rooting out infection, poison, or injury through Divine Fire.

Blythe healed Astoria many times and it never once felt like Mairuk’s work.

Mairuk breathed magic into her, healing her from the inside out.

Their magic was cool and crisp and it washed over her like the first sip of chilled water on a hot summer day.

They smelled like the forest after rain and each time they healed her, their scent consumed Astoria whole.

It seeped into the fibers of her body and set her alight with hope, desire, and joy.

Each emotion Astoria never believed she’d feel again.

The sensation they gave her was like being drunk, but it was brighter.

Clearer. Alcohol made the world fuzzy, silly, and dim.

Mairuk’s influence brought light, color, and it sent her magic tingling under her skin.

Mairuk never touched more than Astoria’s side, and they always left before she gathered the bravery to ask for what she desired.

They permitted her to touch them, and great gods, that brought her almost as much bliss as their magic.

The texture of their skin was one Astoria could explore for hours.

Mairuk was covered in layers upon layers of bumps and ridges and while they weren’t damp, their skin was almost slick under her fingers.

Their body moved like pliable tree bark in her palms. She hadn’t braved touching the multicolored growths on their body, but Astoria longed to learn their texture, too.

The bright, hazy warmth they left her with dissipated after an hour or so.

Astoria expected the despair to sink back in, for the grief to return in full force.

But it didn’t. It settled back into her bones and melded into her shape, but it didn’t consume her every thought.

A glimmer of light hung around her periphery.

The light that always promised to return to her world after her loss finally filtered through the windows of her soul.

Thanks to Mairuk, she possessed the ability to feel something other than pain and grief.

They brought color back to her world with renewed vibrancy.

It trickled out as the day wore on and their magic faded, but she never fell back into the gray bleak of grief.

They proved to Astoria that she could find the light again one day, and that realization gave her the most reckless gift: hope.

Astoria woke to Mairuk healing her for the last time this morning.

The rot was fully gone now, and her leg moved as normal without pain.

Light as a feather, Astoria danced around her home and saw to her needs.

She took a cold bath with the water in her barrel, dressed in her new leathers, and brushed her long red hair until it shined.

Bastian brought her a small, round prickly creature with two long eye stalks Astoria had never seen before.

Still, she broke the creature down and cooked it.

It didn’t taste particularly good, but it was something in her stomach and she needed to eat.

She didn’t remember eating or drinking while she recovered, and while Mairuk’s magic took care of a lot, it couldn’t replace her body’s need for food and water.

Once she finished tending to herself, Astoria walked out into the bright morning sun.

For the first time in almost two years, warmth kissed her skin and she didn’t recoil.

The light brushed her face and warmed it with the promise of spring on the horizon.

Astoria meandered to the planter boxes Mairuk built at her request. She was used to eating what was available, but long term she needed more than small game could provide alone.

She found a few wild and edible plants that went to seed last fall, still clinging to their pods when she went hunting with Mairuk.

The seedlings and cuttings she prepared somehow survived her near-death and neglect.

If she could continue to get them to grow, she’d have enough to sustain herself by the end of spring.

Cities existed in Ardelok lands, but no maps of them ever crossed the border.

Mairuk would know how to get to the closest city, and hopefully Astoria could find better seeds there.

“You woke with the sun,” Mairuk said as they met her gaze from their position on the ground.

They hammered two sides of another planter box together in the southernmost portion of the village.

Three beds they made were half Astoria’s height, and if she desired, she could lie down in them with room to spare on either side.

The three beds Mairuk made were more than enough for one person, and they had the materials to craft three more, at least.

“I remember our agreement. I’m well again, and ready to get back to work. Are we finishing the beds today?” Astoria asked.

“That is what we are doing. You may assist us.” Mairuk’s voice was no longer harsh or snapping in her mind. Instead, a soft, warm wave of overlapping voices caressed her awareness. Strange to hear, but not unpleasant.

Mairuk directed Astoria to gather fallen branches and leaves to fill the base of the beds and she did so, thankful for her new leather gloves.

Mairuk soon finished hammering the final beds together and joined her.

They shoveled entire wheelbarrows full of forest soil and tossed it into the rapidly growing garden beds.

The work went by fast and once the first bed was full, Astoria took to planting the wild seeds she gathered. Her hands in living soil as she dug the small holes brought tears to her eyes. With each plant she placed, more tears fell down her face.

The Kingdom of Lanhure forbade the use of the Orsea , the Magic of the Forest Speakers.

Said to have come from the Ardeloks themselves, the king insisted that humans with the Orsea bound themselves to an Ardelok as a loktossi .

As such, they needed to be killed like any other enemy.

It wasn’t true, of course. Astoria’s magic activated in her teens, with no Ardelok in sight.

The truth didn’t matter, though. Not to the king, or any of the rulers before him.

Her mother feared others would find out about Astoria’s magic, so she forbade Astoria from tending the cottage garden.

When Astoria moved to Gladeview with Damien, she never bothered to set one up.

She worked alongside Damien, working leather while he worked the smithy.

Their combined income gave them enough to purchase anything they needed from others in town or at the market half a day’s ride away.

Working the soil with her hands, planting the small sprouts and watering them in settled something in her wounded soul.

In this place, far away from the laws of a kingdom that would kill her for her magic, Astoria allowed the Orsea to flow.

It poured from her fingertips and she nourished the soil with it, calling life to the roots to sustain her plants.

The green light shimmered as it sunk into the soil, singing the song of all living things.

Distantly, the trees sang too, as did the moss on the rooftops.

The same song fell from Astoria’s lips, and she lost herself to the melody of life.

Hidden under the shroud of death for so long, each note lifted her soul up from the grave she tumbled into.

Mairuk’s three-eyed gaze caressed against her side like a physical touch.

Soon, they too joined the song. They knelt beside her and called forth their power to do the same.

The same turquoise as the bay, their magic tangled with hers.

Together, their power sank deeper into the soil and extended outward, calling for life.

Each pulse of Mairuk’s magic over hers sent little sparks of power down Astoria’s arms, bringing light and the familiar vibrancy of their healing magic.

When the pair finished, each of the plants faintly hummed the song of the forest, adding to the overall symphony. The magic faded back into the aether, but the energy between Mairuk and Astoria lingered like a promise. She smiled at them, something warm settling over the ache in her chest.

“Thank you,” Astoria whispered. She had too much to thank them for.

There were no words that described her gratitude.

Yes, they built her some planter boxes and gave her materials.

Yes, they saved her life with their healing, but they did more than that.

Their magic, their touch…they showed her the light again.

After two years lost in the darkness, they were the first who lit a torch.

Thanks to Mairuk, Astoria sensed a way out of the grief, even if it was distant.

Something in the back of her mind burned and screamed with deep shame.

Her magic, what she felt when Mairuk touched her, those were sinful things.

Things no good woman dared to voice. Using her magic went against the laws of both the king and the Wizened Four.

Each time she called on the Orsea , it stained her further, taking her out of the Eternal Light and into the Ravenous Dark.

Desiring anyone other than her husband was a grave sin, something she couldn’t allow.

Yet she did, and hot shame boiled up her throat.