Information



Skan
Legacy Name: Skan


The Marsh Noktoa
Owner: Athene

Age: 10 years, 7 months, 3 weeks

Born: August 5th, 2013

Adopted: 10 years, 7 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: August 5th, 2013


Pet Spotlight Winner
October 31st, 2017

Statistics


  • Level: 4
     
  • Strength: 12
     
  • Defense: 10
     
  • Speed: 10
     
  • Health: 10
     
  • HP: 0/10
     
  • Intelligence: 51
     
  • Books Read: 51
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Unemployed


Female Marsh Noktoa. Owner: Athene.

Thanks to Saw for her help and inspiration.

Story by Pureflower. Pet image by Light. Bust by leeroro. Unaltered glade shape by murder-stock. Texture by jane-beata.

The small village was nestled in a fertile valley, flanked on three sides by thick forest terrain. It was a difficult place to reach and offered few comforts to a weary traveler. It was ideal for the small group of settlers who had tired of trying to sway the wider world to their point of view. They followed traditions considered obsolete in the dawn of industry. Those unwilling to practice the old ways were considered fools.

The elders always shook their heads and made a sign against evil when a youth announced their intention to leave for the city. Few were willing to make the journey back once they tasted the bittersweet nectar of temptation. Children were becoming a rarity. At the moment, there are only two.

Skan's parents shook their heads and exchanged a look when their daughter mounted the broomstick used to sweep the stoop. She pranced around the yard, urging her imaginary mount to greater speeds. They sat and sipped their tea, whispering to one another that this was a phase she would surely outgrow.

Skan ignored such mutterings. She tolerated her mother's lessons in keeping a house and tending a fire, concealing her secret fear that she would one day become as boring as the adults in her life. One night she cried herself to sleep, begging the Great Spirit to send just one person who would smile when she told her stories. The next day she met Miko.

When he entered the clearing she was riding Iceval the great white dragon, going to do battle with the terrible crystal trolls who wanted to freeze the entire world. She dropped the broomstick, brandishing a stick with two leaves clinging to the tip. “Unfreeze my people, Krakan, or I will cover you in growing things and you will melt away.”

Skan dropped the branch in surprise at the sound of a footstep. It rolled to rest at Miko's feet. His black hair flopped into his eyes as he bent to pick it up.

Skan snatched the stick from his hands. “Only Queen Isela can touch the Nature Wand. If you're not careful you'll call a tree giant to come and gobble you up.” She giggled as his eyes widened and he whipped his head around. “It's only pretend, silly.”

Miko bit his lip. “Mama says children should be a help to their parents. She says games are a waste of time.” He took a step back but could not take his eyes off the twitching branch. “Is it hard to pretend?”

“It's very easy.” She picked up another stick, one free of leaves. “You can be the queen's knight. Go stand by that big rock over there and when the trolls come, use your sword to scare them away like this.” She growled fiercely at a sparrow pecking for worms, slashing the stick through the air. The bird took flight with a call of alarm. “You must keep the small trolls back while I battle the evil King Krakan.”

They did not always battle trolls in the Ice Realm. Some days they rode unicorns to the magic pond to look for buried treasure. The forest was also a prime place to look for hidden gates into fairy cities.

They would lose all track of time, returning home as the fireflies began their nightly dance. Miko's parents were tolerant, hoping their son would not need to leave for the city to find a bride. Skan's were not. Her mother scolded and plucked at the dirt smudges on her knees. Her father yelled and shook his finger, threatening to lock Skan in her room until she learned proper behavior. He made good on his threat but she didn't care. She quickly learned to undo the lock on her window and Miko was the only one she'd ever showed the lightning tree to. It was their favorite meeting place, at the edge of the magic pond that the boring villagers claimed was a breeding ground for disease. It was a place of the best kind of magic, made better by a friend who truly understood her.

Even in a village where the old ways are so carefully practiced, the passage of time cannot be stopped.

Skan ignored the changes in Miko at first. He grew irritable when she trotted into the clearing on her broomstick. He brushed aside her invitation to seek fairy gates in the bushes, snapping that fairies were not real. His gruff apology held no warmth and he swatted aside the stems rather than parting them carefully.

One day he tried to kiss her. She shoved him back with a mock gasp. “This is no way for a knight to treat his queen. You must woo me and win my heart.” She smiled at him, inviting him to join this newest game.

His eyes were dull and he did not smile. “Enough of this childish act, Skan. It is improper for us to meet like this.”

Skan laughed. “What are you talking about, Miko? This is our tree, the one the fire sprites use to make mischief when they grow tired of riding the lightning.”

“It's just a tree! There is no magic! There is only the village and what's best for our people.” He looked down at his hands, rubbing at a scar he'd received when Skan dared him to climb a giant evergreen. “We're both of an age to marry and I would have you for my wife. Your father approves, but you must tend the hearth and bear my children. My father will not pay the bride price for a woman who wanders the forest and ignores her duties.”

This was not her Miko. She didn't recognize this strange man who talked of responsibility and shut his mind to the world of magic. “I thought you were different. I thought you were the one person who really understood me. You're no better than any of them.” She did not try to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

”Grow up, Skan. I love you and I'm asking you to be my bride. We're too old for playing pretend.” He reached out a hand as he'd done so many times when they had a fight. He had no idea how deeply he had hurt her.

”Get away from me! You liar! You shape shifter! You have devoured my Miko and left this sour troll in his place. I will not be taken to your foul lair and made into a meek maiden when I am a queen!” She slapped his hand away, tears coursing down her face.

His pain broke through for just a moment before his face took on a look of indifference. “You leave me no choice but to seek my bride in the city. Farewell, Skan.” He left her standing at the base of the lightning tree, not once looking back.

Skan's anger cooled within a day. She had never been able to stay angry with Miko for long and she tried to convince herself that he had not meant his harsh words. She went to the tree twice a day for a full week despite the conversation she overheard between her parents. Miko had left, carrying a cloth sack on his shoulder. There were two girls from fine families whose parents were eager to welcome such a fine son-in-law. Her mother cried into her father's shoulder, afraid for their only daughter's future.

Miko was never there. Skan took to bed, refusing the treats her mother cooked to tempt her. When her father threatened to take her to the convent she took up her chores but she rarely spoke and she never sang. Miko had once said her singing voice was delightful. She had nothing to sing about now.

She snapped the beloved broomstick in half, feeding the pieces to the hearth fire as tears streamed down her face.

The weeks passed and her sadness grew. There was no one she could talk to, no one to share her feelings with. The villagers knew nothing about broken hearts. Their marriages had all been arranged.

She tried not to think about the approach of her sixteenth birthday, Most of the villagers did not even bother to keep track of their age. They certainly would not waste valuable food stores to celebrate such an unimportant occasion.

Skan had once spent hours telling Miko how girls in faraway countries were given splendid birthday parties where they wore beautiful gowns and ate delicate cakes that tasted sweeter than cane sugar. Every person they knew was expected to give them a present. The presents on their sixteenth birthday were especially nice because this was when these girls were said to come of age. Miko thought such notions odd but he had promised her a present.

She had been avoiding the forest but she just couldn't stand listening to talk of crop volumes on a day that should have been about her. She made straight for the pond. If Miko hadn't totally forgotten her, he would know where to find her. The pond had always been his favorite place.

She sat on the edge of the water, watching the dragonflies skim the surface. A flash of green caught her eye as a frog lunged straight up to snag a meal. The frogs began a gentle melody as afternoon wore down to evening. It was a soothing sound, one she had often enjoyed while holding Miko's hand.

It took her a moment to realize the animals had fallen silent. She could not even make out the annoying whine of mosquitos. Her head whipped around as she tried to take in the surrounding forest. She was quite alone. Even the wind had fallen still. She dropped her eyes to the surface of the pond, wondering if something more sinister than snapping turtles lurked beneath the water.

She blinked at her reflection and gave her head a small shake. She was not mistaken. Her eyes glowed with a subtle yellow light.

A choked sob escaped her as she realized the truth. She had only heard the story of the Powers once, many years ago. They were incredibly rare, even in the wider world, sometimes skipping as many as three generations. They arrived on the bearer's sixteenth birthday, the color of the glow announcing the talent to be taught. She knew for certain yellow was the color of the Power of Healing.

She didn't want this Power. Healers had to live alone and could never have families. They must care for the sick and injured no matter how gruesome the ailment. Her work would leave her constantly exhausted yet she could do nothing to ease her own pain if an illness claimed her.

She sat frozen in place, crying until her dry eyes stung fiercely. She could not tear her gaze away from her reflection. Powers were supposed to be a gift and a great honor. She didn't feel the Great Spirit was honoring her at all. She felt trapped. Why are you doing this to me?

She thought of the village's current healer with a shudder. Yala was a grumpy old woman whose back was permanently bent from the burden of her calling. For the first time in her life, Skan felt sympathy. Who could blame Yala for being angry about such an unhappy fate?

Skan looked up at the face of the moon and back to her reflection, reaching out a hand to slap the surface of the water. She was convinced that if she could change the image, she could recover the beautiful hazel eyes she had inherited from her mother. The glow did not fade. She did not have the power to change fate.

Yala did her best to hide her relief from her new apprentice. She'd ignored the complaints of her body at her peril, but she could no longer deny death's approach. Skan's powers were not yet strong enough for her to recognize the black tendrils slowly creeping through her mentor's chest.

Skan was a fast learner, memorizing the names and uses of more medicinal plants with each passing day. Before six weeks had passed she could identify these reinforcements to her Power by smell and touch as well as by sight. She could also determine the type and severity of infection just by walking into the room where patients were held.

Yala set her to binding small wounds and mixing healing tonics. Skan smiled with pride when one of her brews cleared a woman's cough in under an hour. Yala's nod of approval was a greater compliment than words could express.

Yala made it clear that Skan was not to venture farther than the spirit garden. Confinement was boring. Skan missed wandering the forest paths, watching the animals and basking in the sun. When she was not healing she was expected to do chores. Yala had no tolerance for idleness. Even Skan's father had allowed her to take a break now and then but Yala was always grumbling that she lacked discipline and that a true healer rested only when their body demanded a rest.

They moved on to more difficult lessons. Skan nearly fainted when Yala ordered her to take on the pain of a man whose broken arm needed to be set. She'd never realized the heavy protections placed on her by her mentor. They both spent half a day in the spirit garden as the man rested.

Skan gently stroked the purple petals of a bell flower. “I've been thinking about visiting my mother. It really wouldn't take me more than a day and I could see to it that the Savita twins are getting enough to eat. You said yourself two strong babies are too much for a woman as small as Vila to feed.”

“Your place is in the healer's hut. If Vali requires our help, she must make the journey to us. This is our way.”

Skan rolled her eyes. “Always with the old ways. We could help so many more people if we went to seek them.”

Yala scowled, wincing as a bolt of pain shot up her arm. “Do not question me, child. Our healing only binds to those who seek to heal. If we try to force our gift on one determined to die, their body will resist our efforts. You know this.”

Skan scowled back. “I don't see what that has to do with walking through the village and asking if anyone needs our help.”

“There is much you do not understand, but you will. The time draws near for you to make the journey to the spirit world.”

Skan spent the night tossing and turning, scowling at the rumble of Yala's snores. She turned the other way, throwing an arm over her eyes to block the moonlight that fell on her face. It was useless. She simply could not sleep.

Years of sneaking out her bedroom window to stargaze with Miko aided her now. Yala's hut was on the very edge of the village, tucked behind a line of trees. Skan walked until her bare feet found the familiar path. The pond was gorgeous beneath the light of the moon. She sat on the ledge where her Power had been revealed. She thought of how proud her parents had been to discover their daughter was a healer.

She could not help wondering if Miko had been told. Had he even returned to the village as he'd promised his parents? He never sought aid at the healer's hut but that didn't mean anything. Miko was young and strong. He would have no need for healing.

He had no need for her.

She sprang to her feet, eyes falling on the road that led to cities that the people of her village scorned. It wasn't fair that Miko could see new parts of the world while she was stuck cleaning up sickness from Yala's floor.

She still knew nothing of Yala's illness. When Yala stumbled, she blamed her clumsiness on old age and waved aside Skan's concern. Skan had no idea that Yala woke very early in the morning to beg the Great Spirit for guidance. Yala's faith was shaken. The Great Spirit was supposed to be all wise, yet he had chosen an apprentice who could not renounce her past life. Skan was not ready.

Yala stood at the door of the hut, lantern in hand, “I heard the rumors about you and I defended you. The elders did not want me to take on an apprentice they believed had a head full of moonbeams but I insisted the Great Spirit would not send such a gift to one not worthy to bear it. Here I find you sneaking out to wish for your old life. You are undisciplined and selfish, thinking only of what you want.”

Skan returned Yala's stare. “I only took a walk to clear my mind because I couldn't sleep. Surely walking beneath the stars isn't forbidden to healers.”

“I know well what is in your thoughts. You dream of seeing the world, despite your obligations. You fantasize about a man who already belongs to another woman.”

Skan gaped at Yala, fists clenching and unclenching. “You have no right to read my thoughts!”

Yala was out of patience, tired of protecting a girl who believed she could live with a foot in both worlds. “Tomorrow night you must bind yourself, Skan. It is your time.” The pain was so intense that Yala took a seat. She kept her face set in a scowl, refusing even now to reveal her weakness to Skan. This was not the will of the Great Spirit but Yala didn't care. She had given her life to the craft of healing without ever once complaining. She should not be put through such a trial at the dusk of her life.

Skan shuddered. The healer's bond was an invisible tether to the cottage that could never be broken. She could not bear the thought of her free will being cut from her like a lump of diseased flesh. “I'm not ready, Yala. I've never even had a vision. All healers must speak to the spirits before they take the bond.”

“I have told you before not to question me.”

Skan could not bear another lecture as if she were a naughty child. “Maybe you read the signs wrong. Maybe you heard what you wanted instead of what the Great Spirit tried to tell you.”

Yala's eyes widened but Skan did not give her a chance to respond.

“I'm so tired of everyone hanging on your words because you're an old woman! You don't know everything and you don't know me!” She ran out into the night, not caring much where her feet carried her. The villagers would be alerted soon. They would drag her back and tie her hands and feet with leather thongs but they could not force her to take the vow of bondage.

She slowed as the last familiar line of trees opened out on a wide expanse bathed in silver moonlight. She could hear nothing stirring behind her. She could not resist one look back at the familiar trees before she turned her back on the village of her childhood.

The trees thinned as Skan walked a road she had never before traveled. The land sloped down, giving way to rich golden fields. Sometimes she would see a farmhouse in the distance. Those farmers she visited were very kind, giving her rich cheeses and jars of preserves for her journey. They asked nothing in return and were glad to point her in the direction of the city.

The number of houses in the city was overwhelming. All the people in her village could live comfortably in a single row. She was awed by rumors of cities further down the road of even greater size.

She found lodging with a kind old woman so different from Yala. She could sleep until she felt like waking and eat until she was full. Patients began to seek her right away. She treated everything from small cuts to infections that left the carrier gasping for breath. The people she helped always showered her with kind words and insisted she accept presents of food and cloth. She gave most away to the orphans, smiling when she saw them marching proudly in new shoes, munching sticks of cinnamon candy.

As the weeks slipped away, she began to long for new adventures. The intelligence of her new friends never ceased to amaze her. They gave her a very special parting gift, one she could not refuse. It was a basket with many compartments that would resist water and sun, perfect for storing the plants she so often used.

She was truly living her dream as she moved from one strange city to the next, seeking desert sands and great ice caves that never thawed. Most of the people were good, welcoming her into their homes and gladly sharing all they had. She met a few with cold hearts but they were no worse than the man in her home village who sat on his grain stores until midwinter and charged three times their worth to fill his pockets. The villagers were not as superior as they claimed to be. They were, in fact, very human.

Two years to the day after leaving Yala's hut, Skan reached the ocean. She sat on a cliff edge, looking out on a glorious sunset that turned the water from buttery yellow to fiery red before the small waves darkened to inky blue.

She found a cave to sleep in, one filled with soft moss that made an excellent bed. The nightmares began almost the moment she closed her eyes. Yala was calling to her but she could not make out the words among the chaotic screams echoing in her ears.

She wanted to stay and watch the merry sea lions play on the beach but the nightmares grew worse. She feared to close her eyes, forcing herself to stay awake until exhaustion overpowered her. She could no longer hear Yala's voice among the screams.

She wanted more time to be free but knew it would not be granted. It was time to fulfill her promise.

The familiar huts were all in the right places but something was very wrong. The fields were abandoned, slowly falling to ruin. Those few animals in sight were scrawny and sickly, picking through piles of garbage and fleeing when she tried to approach.

She ran to the hut of her parents. A red strip of cloth hung over the door, a warning of the sickness within. Most of the doors bore red strips. The rooms inside were dark and dusty.

She ran down the central street, calling names from her childhood. Even the pinched face of an elder would seem a fine welcome. She would turn to anyone who could break the awful silence.

There was no answer. She turned toward the forest; hope flaring as she realized the people would seek Yala's healing touch.

Skan froze in the doorway of the healing hut, gagging as the old smell of decay hit her nose. Yala's body had been removed weeks ago but not before the stink could settle into the old woman's bedding. Skan backed away, her heart pounding as her thoughts turned to the one place that had always made her happy.

The lightning tree was dappled with sunlight s the pond frogs sang to the sun. Skan's eyes flickered over the ledge, coming to rest on the freshly turned mounds of earth on the other side of the pond. She walked among them, finding the names of neighbors and finally finding her parents. They were buried side by side, the bouquets placed in their honor faded.

She struggled to her feet, stumbling back in the direction of the village. She didn't know where else to go.

Her feet brought her to the hut that had once been Miko's. She shuddered as she peered inside. She had not seen his name on a tombstone. What if his body was inside, still awaiting a proper burial?

His mother had always been so tidy. The bamboo screen she had so proudly cared for was thick with dust. Skan walked the short distance to Miko's room, her hand trembling as she pulled aside the rice curtain.

The room was empty. A large red stone pinned a thick bundle of papers heavy with Miko's slanted letters. Skan picked them up and began to read.

I do not know which villager was the first to fall ill or where this strange illness came from. It begins with a bright red rash followed by small yellow spots. The fever is what kills. It is very hard on elders but also on the very young. Two days ago I buried my son. He was only two, my little tiger. I am sure my wife could have fought off the illness if not for her grief. I buried them together, placing Moshi in his mother's arms. The Great Spirit decreed that all bodies must be buried separately but I am certain I will be forgiven.

There was great fear among the villagers when word of Skan's departure reached them. They claim this illness is a punishment, that the yellow spots are a sign the Great Spirit is angry with the healers. Yala is too weak to say much but we both stand up for Skan. We both have faith in her return.

They have ceased to seek the healer's aide. Today my parents took ill and I have not seen Skan's mother in weeks, not since the day I returned with my new family.

I am sorry Skan. If you ever read this, I need you to know how right you were. I saw the magic again through the eyes of my little boy and now it is gone!

There was a page missing. Skan brushed a hand over her eyes as she read the last section.

I have buried them all. I thought Vali's twins might overcome the illness when their fevers broke last night. This morning I found the bodies. Samo's arms were wrapped so tightly around Sono that I could not separate them. I have once again defied the wishes of the Great Spirit in burying them together.

There can be no worse task than pulling corpses from the huts where they built their lives. I can still feel their eyes on me, accusing me for keeping my life when so many were lost.

I do not know why I am resistant to this illness. Perhaps I am cursed and this is a punishment of some kind. If I had been patient with Skan and taken her for my bride, perhaps none of this would have happened. From the first moment I saw her I knew she had the touch of the Great Spirit upon her.

I cannot stay among so many ghosts jealous of my life. I cannot return to the town where dear Lota's parents placed the hand of their only daughter in mine. I will bring my curse upon no one else. I go to seek a new life in the mountains, to bear my suffering alone.

The pages dropped from Skan's hands, fluttering to the floor. She fell to her knees, her sobs a wordless pleading to the Great Spirit to change the horror she had caused. Miko was wrong. She was the one bearing a curse. She had not given Yala time to teach her how to reach the spirit world and she could never make this right. She continued to stare at the ceiling in mute agony as the glow in her eyes faded and went out.

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