The Great Spirits

Vaalea met by chance this tall woman with a mysterious aura about her, Ulfey her name was. The last time Vaalea had met her, the woman had given her a jar of some salve for the unnaturally sickly wound in her palm. The woman had said she was a healer and the wound in Vaalea’s hand had indeed healed strangely quickly after she had started the treatment. She merrily presented now the results to Ulfey. 

Vaalea laid on her back upon a field of newly born grass, staring at the darkening sky and the emerging stars. Her hand rested on her chest, holding the wooden piece she had found from the bottom of the river a few days prior. She lifted it up against the sky and her eyes trailed the strange runes carved into it’s surface. She then lifted her other hand next to the wooden piece, and her gaze shifted into the cup of her palm. The wound in it appeared sickly and swollen, despite her great efforts to clean it and heal it.

Vaalea stood at the edge of a steep cliff, naked. She smiled as she felt the cold wind swirling around her warm skin. She listened to the tales of the wind, inhaling it deeply through her nostrils, her arms laying calmly at her both sides. It was dark, but she could see the silhouette of the cliffs at the opposing side of the river. The day before she had sat there with Mauri, a fellow Lossoth, and noticed the cliff upon which she stood now. It was a cliff she had seen many times in her dreams, tall and steep.