Page 61 of Shrine of Fire

It was cold and damp, but the air on my face was crisp and clean. The open aspect to this landscape had me feeling like I could take a breath then get rid of all my tension as I let it out. Between the rolling fields, iron gray sky, and cutting wind, I saw why a lot of the songs and poetry that came out of the Northern Islands were melancholic but beautiful.

We rode further north, until the Fort was in the distance, slowly climbing the low hill country.

“Are we going anywhere near the Shrine?” I asked, wondering how much longer we would be riding for, and feeling grateful for my thick overcoat.

Cuan chuckled. “No, my dear. It’s much further north than a two-hour ride. I wanted to show you one of my favorite places.”

“Okay.” I decided to broach something that had been puzzling me. “Cuan. You seem close to your father.”

“He’s a good man, does his best by me and our people.”

“So, what does Fairuin get out of a royal engagement?”

Cuan raised an eyebrow, and I shook my head. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that it seems like you have everything in hand here.”

“The winters can be rough. We’ve been lucky the last few years, but the chiefs are aware it only takes a few bad seasons to put us back to starving.”

Cuan reined his horse in a little, so that we could ride alongside each other and talk. “We prefer not to go out into the world and make alliances with other countries. I know the world thinks we’re savage barbarians, and we prefer to be left alone.”

“But?”

“But securing the future for our clans is important.” Cuan shrugged.

“So, how did you get picked as the lucky one?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m the chief’s son, which has weight to it as far as the rest of the world sees it. I’ve completed my spirit journey and performed brave deeds in battle. Helped unite the clans, even when they were thick headed about it.

“And at the last Chiefs’ Moot, when the clans came together to vote on the next chief, they decided we needed to reach out to the other nations.”

“Who will be Chief next?” It was an interesting system of primogeniture and democracy here.

“Kili’s father, Braithen.” Cuan smirked. “Kili will be the chief’s son, then, and he’ll have to eat all the words he said to me about duty and honor.”

I laughed. “Won’t that be nice?”

“The jerk will do fine. He was always the responsible one,” Cuan muttered. We crested a rise and the landscape dropped away before us, the road turning to follow a gentler descent into the moors. “Stop here for a minute,” he said, then pointed with his chin “Look there, to the Silver Lakes.”

I looked to our left. Large lakes spread out over the moors. They were flat, the water perfectly still. Reflecting the iron gray sky, they looked like someone had poured liquid silver in amongst the browns and greens.

“Oh, it’s beautiful.”

Cuan led us off the dirt road onto a barely visible path that headed toward the lakes. Ahead of us I could see a small hut, almost invisible against the mounds of rolling hills.

The horses picked their way down to where the slope levelled off, and Cuan reined in his horse then dismounted. He helped me get down, the warmth of his body engulfing me for a moment. I paused, my hands still on his shoulders, looking up at him. He looked down at me, his eyes sparkling. “Alright?”

I nodded, my throat thick. His warmth curled around me, and I wanted to stay there breathing in his oakmoss and whiskey scent. He smelled like his homeland, and it was intoxicating.

“Let me show you.” He took my hand, his voice soft. We walked in between the lakes.

I gestured at the hut made of rock and moss, that used one side of the hill as a wall. “Is that someone’s house?”

“Mine, sort of.” Cuan wrapped an arm around my waist, and I leaned into him as we strolled through the moors. “I built it years ago, so I would have shelter if I came here during a storm.”

I watched the water ripple slightly as the wind shifted, the quicksilver of the surface stirring. It was no wonder there was spirit lore built into the Northmen’s histories. The land itself felt alive. “It’s beautiful here. Like I can be my whole self, and not just the parts I need to show the world.”

Cuan’s shoulders relaxed. “Exactly. Exactly that.”

We walked around the lake, sunlight breaking through the clouds. He steered us to a giant gray rock, the side wore smooth with time. There was enough of a ledge that we could sit down.

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