Eyes of an Angel (Part two of two.)

Jessica was unaware of how far she traveled in the hands of the two guardsmen and oblivious to how long it took them to get there.  It felt like an eternity, lost to the throes of her anguish.  Had her arms not been restrained by the two men dragging her along she might have clawed her own eyes out just to make the pain go away.

She was vaguely aware that they had come to be outside at some point, the smell and feel of the forest doing its best to comfort her, but she could not see its grand beauty.  To her eyes all was blackness.  She could feel the sunlight on her skin but she might as well have stood in the depths of the Abyss itself, for none of it could be detected by her damaged orbs.  When her trip finally came to an end — the cool dankness, rocky floor and slight echo suggesting that they'd entered some sort of cave — she could only think it appropriate that she be left under the ground and away from the light.

She'd lost her sandals on the unpleasant journey and her bare foot splashed in a puddle as she was shoved roughly into the jagged wall of what Suthwen had dubbed "The Hole".  With one guard pinning her to the wall, the sound of clanking metal rang as the other fastened an iron manacle around her right ankle.  The feel of the shackle sent a chill through her as she knew instantly that they intended to abandon her there.  No food, no hope of freedom... just a slow death surrounded by darkness.  She wasn't truly scared of death, though.  In a way, she almost felt she deserved it.  She had failed in her mission and now everyone she had ever known would die.  Ellena would die; her beautiful smile would be snuffed out and there was nothing she could do about it.

The guards didn't seem quite ready to just leave her to her certain, gradual demise just yet, however, and the feel of a dagger sliding beneath her blouse left her momentarily stunned.  It took her a moment to realize what the two men were planning as they cut and tore the clothing from her body.  Thrown to the ground, naked and broken on the stone floor of the cave, she knew what was to come next and feared it.

One of the men began boasting to her of the privilege he was about to bestow on her; one last pleasure before they left her to rot.  She could even hear the distinctive sound of him unbuckling his belt, but then there was another sound — a quiet voice — that spared her from the indignation.  It was Christopher's voice, soft-spoken and calm as he whispered to the guards.  It was something that she had seen before on only rare occasion, when a spirit put everything it had into putting a single thought into a living person's head.

Eileen had used it to get her daughter to bring Ellena to see Jessica in the first place, using the mother's desperate need to see her daughter healed.  Christopher was doing something similar, though Jessica was amazed that he would strain himself so hard for someone who was a virtual stranger.  She blamed herself for failing him — failing to reach his father — but he felt guilt of his own, for he knew her punishment had only been made more severe because of her attempt to do so.

As the one guard prepared himself to have his way with her, the other was suddenly struck by a terrifying thought.  What if she was diseased?  She was surely insane, he reasoned, but what if that madness was contagious?  She might've even been a witch or demon-touched.  What if they got warts or worse from her?  He immediately shared his concerns with his companion, outright refusing to have anything further to do with the madwoman himself and inadvertently convincing his partner that it wasn't worth the risk.

In the end they simply left her there, unmolested but just as doomed.  The ruins of her clothing had been tossed in a corner far out of her reach, even had she sight to find them.  The other end of the chain that was attached to her shackle was connected to a steel stake which was wedged firmly into the ground.  Jessica could already feel the manacle's rough edges cutting into her skin as she curled up on herself, huddling against the cold.

"I'm sorry.  If there was anything else I could do, I would do it.  What is your name?" Christopher's voice was soft and soothing but could only give minimal comfort.  She didn't respond, yet he still persisted, words floating through the darkness that her world had become. "Please... tell me."

She remained silent for a time, then finally answered in a very small voice.  "Jessica."  She felt like she barely had the strength to speak it and couldn't imagine why he would want to know.

Oddly, she could hear the smile in his response. "Thank you, Jessica.  I will not forget you or your sacrifice.  Ever." He was crouching next to her and though she could not see him, she turned her head to look in his direction.

"But... I failed you.  I failed everyone."  She was confused, her throat choking up as sadness overwhelmed her.  Not for herself, but for all those who would suffer for her inadequacy.

"No, Jessica, it is we who failed you.  If only I had known you in life..." He sighed, the sound of his voice becoming more distant as he moved away. "I must go; return to my father's side.  I... I will continue to try to reach him through his dreams.  I fear it may be too late to matter but I will try.  Perhaps we will meet again."

With those last words, Christopher's spectral form departed and although she was still surrounded by many other spirits — human, animal and elemental alike — they were all just as powerless to set her free as he had been.  Truth be told, what good would freedom do her?  She was blind, not only to the physical world but to that of the spirits as well.  Where would she go?  Back to her village so that she could share its fate?  She had to think that she would, if she could.  It seemed suitable, somehow, but it was not to be so.

She wondered if her sight would be restored when she, herself, crossed through the veil.  Would she once again be able to see the spirits around her?  Would she have the chance to see angels?  To see Gabriel?  The thought that perhaps her blindness would follow into the afterlife pained her, if only because she wanted to see the perfect beauty that was Gabriel one more time.  "Gabriel?"  He voice shook as she spoke his name aloud.  She swallowed hard before saying it again.  "Gabriel!  Please!  You said you would be watching... are you there?"  There was a frank desperation to her tone, a need to know that he was there, that he would be waiting when she finally died.  She didn't expect him to rescue her; she didn't feel that she deserved such divine mercy.  She just wanted to apologize to him.  "I'm sorry, Gabriel, I tried!  I tried..."

Tears flowed from eyes that still throbbed with dull pain, the sky blue irises faded and clouded by a glassy haze.  She shifted so that she knelt on the hard ground, her arms out to her sides as she called out to the angel once more, apologizing over and over again until her voice failed her completely and the weariness of her trials finally dragged her into unconsciousness.

Her situation had not improved any by the time she awoke.  She was hungry and cold; and knew that there would be no relief for either.  The ghosts that lingered around her, simply trying to keep her company in her final days, had managed to guide her to some puddles of water which quenched her thirst and to a wretched bit of rags from some previous victim of the king's hospitality.  The scrap of fabric wasn't really large enough to keep her warm but it was at least enough to sit on and protect her from the cold ground.

Jessica's eyes no longer burned but her stomach growled and her body ached.  Bruises and scrapes covered her arms and legs but the physical pain paled in comparison to the heartache she felt.  Time was meaningless and immeasurable, the hours spent berating herself for her weakness and for having blundered her mission.  She wondered if heaven could even hold a place for one such as her and if perhaps she had just imagined the holy being she had met.  Maybe she was as insane as everyone had always said.  If so, then she had fallen in love with nothing more than a figment of her own imagination only to let it down.

She voiced a thousand apologies to Gabriel and thought a thousand more, yet still she felt that it could never be enough.  That was why, when the cave was filled with a tremendous thunder which rumbled through her, she felt her chest tighten in both hope and fear.  She felt her body tingle as an incredible sense of power filled the air, that sensation of standing next to a bolt of lightning bringing tears to her eyes.  She didn't need to see him to know he was there; didn't need sight to envision the glory of his face, the brilliance of his blue eyes.

Seated upon her little scrap of cloth, chained to the floor and naked in the darkness, she held her breath, afraid to speak.  Silence descended on the cave and her body shivered from both the cold and the anticipation of what words he would have for her.  As she did not need eyes to see him, however, he did not need words to speak.

The gentle touch of his fingertips on her cheek drew a sob from her, tears falling from her eyes as his warmth washed over her.  The soft brush of feathers made her shudder as his wings reached out to wrap around her and draw her to him.  He took her hand in his, simply holding it a moment before leaning close to her and placing a tender kiss upon her forehead.  "I am so dearly sorry, Jessica.  I wanted to come sooner," There was sorrow in his voice, a tension in his every word.  "They wouldn't let me.  They wanted to see if you would pass this final test..."

"But I failed you..."  She bit her lip, lowering her head in shame.  "I tried, I swear I tried!  I just couldn't—"

"No, Jessica."  Gabriel's quiet, rich tones stopped her self-berating, a single finger hooking under her chin to lift her head, just as before.  "As Christopher said, it is we who failed you.  You saw nothing but beauty in the world and they stole that away from you... and we allowed them to do it."

There was a deep sadness to his voice, one that broke Jessica's heart to hear.  Her own concerns were instantly forgotten, her fears cast aside, and she threw her arms around him to take the angel into a tight embrace, .  "It's alright... I can still remember what everything looks like."  Her whispered words of encouragement brought a smile to his face as he held her in his arms.  She never ceased to amaze him.

"You won't have to."  He spoke softly, lifting her to her feet.  "Come with me, release the mortal world and leave it behind."

A warmth flooded through her, like a brilliant light shining within her very soul — or perhaps it was her soul, taking flight.  All the pain vanished and she felt herself lift off the ground.  Her eyes opened and she found herself looking at that beautiful face, with its porcelain skin and eyes like sapphires, so full of love.  Blonde hair so light as to be almost white framed his perfect visage; a piece of heaven just for her.  The darkness had been left behind as he had said, yet no corpse lay beneath her feet as they floated on air.  She didn't know if she were truly dead or if he had somehow healed her body of its injuries.  In truth, it mattered little to her, so long as he was with her.

"You have ascended."  He spoke the words as though in answer to the questions in her mind, a proud smile curling his lips.  "You have joined us.  Come with me, now, to the Gates of Heaven itself."

Every moment with Gabriel was like having all her dreams come true, yet an eternity would never be enough.  Had it really only been a few short days since he had first spoken to her and given her quest?  "No..."  She sucked in a sharp breath, her senses expanding even as she remembered what the task had been.  The battle he had foretold was raging even in that instant.  People were dying and were it to continue, many more would follow.  Countless thousands of innocents would die.  She could not — would not — abandon them.  "I can still save them!  I can still complete the mission!"

He was going to tell her that it was too late, that the future he had glimpsed was already coming to pass.  He was going to tell her that there was nothing more they could do and that it had been an impossible task from the very beginning.  His lips parted, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.  Instead, it was Jessica who spoke, her voice as soft as velvet, complete and total confidence in her eyes.  "Take me there.  Please."

He could not deny her.  He had a feeling that he never would be able to.  There was a bright flash of light that filled every corner and crevice of the cave and in its wake... only silence and darkness.

*******

The battle was not going well.  Commander Ashlein had altered his plans for the campaign, marching in a formation that was more difficult to maintain but would be better able to fend off a large scale ambush.  Like the fool I was, I had told him he was putting too much faith in the words of a madwoman, but he felt it better to be prepared just in case she had spoke the truth.  The truth?  That ghosts and angels had foretold of our defeat?  Our army was nearly twice as large as that which we had sent forth three years ago, how could we possibly lose?  How could our enemies hope to muster an equal force?

Desperation, that's how.  They were waiting for us.  They may not have known when the attack was coming but they had known that it would.  Instead of meeting us at their borders, they fell back.  I foolishly took it as a sign of weakness and cowardice when in truth it was strategy.  They used the extra time to muster their army, putting swords in the hands of anyone who could hold them, regardless of age or gender.  Women, old men, boys even younger than myself... they were all interspersed throughout the enemy ranks, swelling their number to more double our own. Over half their nation's population had rushed out of the forested hills, surrounding and engaging us in a valley grassland.  It was the perfect place for an ambush and while they were no match for us in skill with a blade, they fought with a fervor that I'd seldom seen.  If they fell then there would be nothing to stop us from slaying their families and they knew it.  They were desperate for victory.

Ironically, our own forces were much less dedicated to the fight.  Most of the men in our army were only fighting for their own survival, not realizing that we were in the same situation as our opponents.  If we fell there was no one else.  Our entire military force was here.  We could retreat back to our own lands but they would surely follow us, if only to make sure we never returned to assault them again.  Just like she had said.

The dark child.  How I had hated her.  Ever since I was a child; since they took my father away and put him in a cell.  He had attempted to kill the girl for the sake of the village, to protect them from her madness and the evil that surely filled her.  He'd killed her mother by accident.  He didn't mean to, he didn't blame her for the girl's wickedness, she had just refused to let him do what had to be done.  It was her murder that had put him in prison and when he'd served his time and returned to us, he took us away from the village so that we would be safe from the dark child's taint.

And there, as I struggled over ground littered with the dead — my helm lost to the chaos and my breastplate so badly dented that I was in danger of it crushing my ribs, the blood of my enemies staining my weapons and my own blood soaking the sleeve of my shirt — I had to wonder if she was still clinging to life somewhere.  If so, was she cursing me or pitying me?  Something told me that anger was beyond her.  It was something she was simply incapable of.

A flash of steel came from my left and I instinctively parried it with my dagger, immediately turning to drive my sword into the man's chest, piercing his lung.  He gasped, staggered backwards and fell.  Another added to my tally.  I was honestly disgusted with myself but there was no longer any options.  They died or we did and they'd brought it on themselves when they killed my father in the last war.  It was simply a matter of blood for blood to me, a matter of justice and vengeance.  That, at least, was what I kept telling myself.  It was the only handhold I had left to keep myself sane in the face of utter insanity.

For the Commander it was much the same.  He'd lost his son in that same conflict and it was there that our relationship had taken root.  He was my substitute father and I his substitute son.  We fought side-by-side, two of the best warriors in our entire army, slaughtering the enemy soldiers even as our comrades fell all around us.  Sooner or later our time would run out.  We'd make a mistake or simply grow too tired to continue on.  I hoped that he would die first; I didn't want to lose another father, but I couldn't bear the thought of him watching another son die.  Just the same, I hoped that my end would come soon afterward.  I had to think that my mind would snap if I had to go on without him.

Another man fell at my feet, his slower reflexes having made him an easy target.  It was no surprise that when he collapsed to the ground and his helmet rolled from his head that he was far too old to be soldiering.  Probably close to sixty years of age, his hair was grey and his face was leathery.  He'd no doubt been a farmer, spending his days toiling in the sun.  Just an average man, doing his best to raise a family and keep them fed and clothed.  It made it hard to hate them when I saw their faces... and a lot easier to hate myself.

I had little time to contemplate the matter, another sword already seeking to put an end to my misery.  I parried her initial blow but she had some skill with the blade and our weapons clashed several times before I was able to knock the shield from her hand.  She stumbled over the body of one of the dead and fell backwards, giving me the opening that I'd been seeking.  I leapt on her, my sword missing her head by merely an inch as she moved it at the last second.  My dagger was pressed against her throat, though, and it would take only a twitch to send her toward oblivion.  The tip of her own was angled up under my breastplate and digging into my belly, the leather there preventing it from drawing blood for the moment, but we both knew that the first one of us to move would end both our lives.

There was a second that seemed to last forever as we looked into each others eyes, both ready to accept our fates.  She looked like my sister.  I looked like her husband.  There was a certain macabre symmetry there.  We were both there, killing for the love of our families and we might as well be killing them ourselves.

Almost simultaneously we tensed, ready to end the game for both of us, but neither death blow ever came.  Instead we were frozen in place by a glorious light of brilliant white, so bright as to be blinding.  A sound like rolling thunder ripped across the battlefield, my skin almost feeling as though it were burning as incredible power washed over me.  There was an unspoken command to stop that wasn't heard so much as felt in the very center of our beings.  It wasn't just Sarah and I that felt it, but rather everyone still standing on that field of death.  It was a command that couldn't be ignored.  I turned my head, along with everyone else on either side of the battle, to look at the source of the light and found myself gaping at a most glorious sight.

An angel hovered not so far from me, just above our heads with feathered wings spread wide.  He was a vision of perfection, a figure of love and kindness untainted by human greed.  He glowed with a holy light and I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and hope just from his presence.  Despite that, despite knowing that his simple appearance was enough to put an end to this battle, there was a great sadness in his blue eyes; he knew that even while this fight might be over, there would be another one to take its place and in the end the result would be the same.  One nation or the other would be wiped out.  I knew it, too, and I knew why.

Those who held power and craved more — be it King Suthwen or another, be it in our kingdom or someone else's — would twist what was seen there just as they twisted any religion; any belief; any fact.  They would warp and corrupt it to suit their own needs.  They would take a reason for peace and turn it into a reason for war.  I knew it.  Gabriel knew it.  Yet there was one who would not allow that to come to pass.  One who would ensure that all of us knew the truth; understood it and would not be mislead by the lies of evil.  She was the one I had called dark child.  The one whose death I had demanded there in Suthwen's throne room.  The one whom I had hated so passionately for more than half of my life.  The one I had wronged in so many ways because of my ignorance.

She stood in the air with the angel, each of her dainty hands held in one of his.  She, like Gabriel, was garbed entirely in a white robe, the silver circlet sitting on her brow marking her as one of the ascended, but she did not have wings to match his.  She was no less beautiful for their lack and when she spoke, her voice was heavenly; the truth in her every word irrefutable.

"You must stop!  There is no need for this; there is no point!"  She pleaded with us and we knew that she was right, but what could we do?  We were little more than flotsam, swept away by the tides of life.  "Don't you understand?"  Her gaze swept over the battlefield, unshed tears gathering in her eyes as she viewed the carnage before her.  Somehow she managed to look each and every one of us directly in the eye, all at the same time.  "Centuries ago your two nations were one.  One land, one kingdom.  One people. Look at the people you fight.  Can't you see it?  You share the same blood!  You are of the same family... and you're killing each other.  Why must you die before you understand?"

The heartbreak in her voice made my very soul ache, but we weren't like her.  We didn't understand.  How could we?  We barely understood life, how could we understand death?  I whispered an apology, one she surely could not have heard, yet somehow she did.  Her head turned slightly and her eyes met with mine.  She knew me instantly and also knew my thoughts.  She saw the reasons for my hatred, my need for vengeance not only against her but those we battled.  Then her gaze shifted to look beside me.  At nothing.

"They can't see..."  She spoke quietly, her words meant for the angel who stood silently behind her.  "They must see.  Only then will they understand."

Those words worried Gabriel, frightened him.  He knew immediately what she meant but it was too high a price for her to pay.  "Jessica, you mustn't!  If you give them your sight—"

"I must."  She answered him simply, gentle words full of confidence.  She knew the price and was willing to pay it.

I watched in stark amazement as her eyes began to glow with a golden light.  My breath caught in my throat and I had to forcibly pull myself back to ensure I didn't accidently fall forward and stab Sarah.  It should have seemed strange that I would put so much effort into avoiding injury to a woman I had been intent on killing only a minute or two earlier, but at that point it felt like the only sensible thing to do.  My senses were already expanding by that point, taking in more of the world than I'd ever imagined existed.  I lifted my head and saw my father standing before me, his ethereal form watching over me.

I was dumbstruck, unable to think let alone speak.  Jessica had wanted us to understand the world as she did; in order to do that she needed us to see the world which she could see.  I swallowed hard, pushing myself to stand despite the quavering of my legs so that I could look at him for the first time in three years.  It was then that he realized that I could see him.  I can't remember ever seeing him so happy as he was in that moment.

I wasn't the only one granted the ability to see through the veil; far from it.  Sarah's husband stood beside me, smiling sadly at his wife as he shrugged in apology.  He had fallen perhaps ten minutes prior and had immediately sought her out.  With eyes full of tears, Sarah called him an idiot for getting himself killed and he laughed in agreement, not a hint of bitterness at his fate.  Still new to his ghostly existence, he reached down to help her stand but his hand passed through hers.  I took it instead and pulled her to her feet; and just like that we were friends.  My father smiled proudly.

All around me others were enjoying similar reunions, getting to see friends and family who waited loyally by our sides so that they could greet us when we joined them in the ranks of the dead.  Commander Ashlein stood face-to-face with his son, doing something I'd never seen him do.  He was crying; tears of joy as he got to tell his son all the things he should have said years ago but never did.  We all got a second chance that day and while some were too fearful or stubborn to take hold of it, many of us seized it with both hands.

After that initial few moments of elation, however, something else struck me.  My expression faltered as my gaze swept across my surroundings.  Sarah caught the change in my demeanor and scanned the area herself.  One by one, all of us came to notice it as we took in the scene around us.  Everywhere we looked were the apparitions of the dead, ten times more than the number which still drew breath.  We looked upon the horror that we had wrought and then we finally understood why Jessica cried; not for what had been done to her, but for what we had done to each other.  What we had done to ourselves.

I turned to look back at her, peering into the golden light which still emanated from her eyes, slowly fading.  I met her gaze and refused to look away; and in that light I saw her as she truly was.  I saw the world as she saw it and in the span of a single breath I lived her entire life.  I also knew what she'd sacrificed in order to share that light of understanding.  As the light faded, so did her vision, returning her to the darkness for all eternity.

She knew what that price would be, understood what she was giving up, but she'd done it regardless.  Not for her own sake, but for ours.  It was a completely selfless act that shamed even Gabriel himself with the strength of her love and as that light dimmed, another grew.  A holy light of the most immaculate white sprang from her back, followed immediately afterwards by a pair of glorious wings which reached to the sky.  We watched in awe as a true angel was born before our eyes.

She seemed more surprised by the result than anyone else and turned to face Gabriel in confusion.  He simply smiled, so full of love for her that there were no words to express it.  He didn't need to, for she could feel it.  I whispered words of thanks and she cast a smile at me.  I had to laugh; her hearing really was impressive.

Gabriel took her hand and those gathered there on that battlefield — both living and dead — watched as they were swallowed up by the light of heaven, vanishing.  We would never see either of them in the world of mortals again but we had no need to.  She'd completed her mission.  There would be no more wars between our nations.  We finally understood and we would carry her legacy with us, for even after she had departed, her gift remained.

Many who had been given the chance to see through the veil wanted no more of it.  It scared them or simply made no difference to them; there would always be those who couldn't understand or couldn't accept what lay beyond death.  Dozens of us, though — hundreds even — refused to let that gift slip through our fingers.  We'd lost it once, when we were but babes.  Now we knew how precious it was and would not give it up so easily.  Whereas once there had only been one among us who could pass on the knowledge of the spirit world, now we were legion and we would carry her wisdom with us wherever we went.

Over the next few years we came to be known as the Children of the Blind Angel.  We were healers and sages, protectors of the innocent and makers of peace.  We spread out across the kingdom to mend the wounds of not only the people, but the nation itself.  With time we even began making our way into other kingdoms, learning from their own spirits and helping to pass on that knowledge.  We were often dubbed "witches" or other such titles, but perhaps that is what we were, if witches could speak to the dead and dance with elementals.  In time we learned that when we felt the end was near, we too could pass on Jessica's gift, though our own sight would return to us when we stepped through the veil.  Still, while we certainly weren't making the same level of sacrifice that Jessica had made, we ensured that we would not be the last of the Children and gave others the opportunity to see the world as we had been taught to see it.

Before we spread out, however, and long before we had any need to pass on our gifts, a great many of us simply returned home.  The Commander and I personally delivered news of the war's end to King Suthwen.  Not surprisingly, our Lord was not content with the results.  He wanted both kingdom's under his rule, even if it meant one lay in ruins.  He demanded that we regroup our army and prepare to march immediately, while the enemy was weak and disorganized.  I laughed at him, but Ashlein wore his grim face as always.  He told Suthwen that he needed only kill one more man to see true victory in the war.

"Fine!  Do whatever needs to be done!"  Suthwen had thought he was speaking of assassinating the king of our enemies.  Somehow he never saw it coming, even when Ashlein drew his sword and ran the tyrant through.  Suthwen died in shock and trauma, his spirit disoriented as it rose from his corpse.  He was also absolutely furious, screaming at us.  The Commander gave a quiet smile, showing me that some wisdom only came with age.  I had thought that he'd not really given the man a just punishment for all the lives he'd claimed, setting him free to roam the world untethered by the physical world.  It hadn't occurred to me that while ghosts and the living could not touch, spirits could touch each other.

Dozens of hands reached up from the floor, passing through the marble floor, lush carpet and Suthwen's own corpse to grab his ankles.  I watched in silence, even as Suthwen's ghost screamed for help.  There was no way to aid him by then.  All the dead which had haunted his dungeons were taking their long-awaited vengeance.  I can't imagine what they might have done to him and I don't know if a soul can be destroyed, but we never saw Suthwen again, even on those rare occasions where I ventured down into the bowels of that castle.

The royal guards stood stunned, at a loss for what to do after witnessing their commander slay their king, and the queen herself watched us in fear, wondering if she would be next.  Ashlein sheathed his sword, then dropped it — scabbard and all — onto the blood-stained carpet.  He would never again carry a weapon of any sort.  "The king is dead."  He spoke plainly and he took a deep breath, as though having just released a heavy burden.  "Long live the queen."

Alexander Ashlein gave up his rank and title but stayed in service to the queen as an ambassador and advisor.  It was he who arranged for her to meet the king of our former enemy and, in time, arranged their marriage.  Under his guidance the two kingdoms became one once again, and through it all Christopher remained ever at his side.  I myself would visit them whenever I could, as I would visit Sarah and her home town, but for all my travels, I only truly had one home; a small village a day's ride south of the capital.

They didn't recognize me at first but I gladly told them who I was and who my father had been.  I also told them of Jessica's sacrifice and gift, a claim supported by two others who had come from the village and survived the fighting.  One of them had also retained the sight and became the village's spiritual leader within a few short years, while I made a habit of wandering.  Whenever I returned, however, I was allowed to stay at a small house towards the edge of town.  It was owned by the innkeeper, who allowed any Children who passed through to use it free of charge.

It was a quaint little cabin on a small plot of land.  It was simple yet homey and I always felt comfortable there.  I was also never alone, for a great many animal spirits and elementals liked to spend time there as well.  The vegetable garden was well-tended, as was a tiny apple orchard out back.  It was no easy task for the chestnut-haired little girl, but I could see from the start that it was a labour of love for her.  She was quite the aspiring herbalist and it came as no surprise to me that she eventually took her place among the Children herself.  With souls as bright as Ellena's to guide our path, I knew that hope could never die.