Aniyana - songs of love and death (a high fantasy)

Chapter 1 - Naked & Afraid

And she wakes up cold.

There's a pressure under her right shoulder blade that feels suspiciously like a rock. Her left leg hurts and her head feels sore, like she was hit with a mallet. She doesn't even want to open her eyes to look at where she is because she has just realized that she doesn't know who she is.

It begins to rain. Feeling the cool drops of water over her body makes her realize that she is completely naked. She hears a soft patter. Tree leaves being tapped with the raindrops; and far away, the slow squishy clop of horse hooves in new mud. The sound gets closer.

She jumps up, eyes snapping open. "I mustn't be seen!" her foggy brain says, rather calmly given the situation, "I'm not wearing anything!" Her quick jump up aggravates her pounding headache and she looses her balance. She tries to stagger her way closer to the nearby trees and away from the horse and a voluminously cloaked rider coming from the tiny town in the twilight distance, but her left leg protests and refuses to work, collapsing underneath her. She slips down the gentle slope of grass that separates forest and road, exactly opposite the direction she was trying to go, landing butt first and legs splayed in the mud, staring up the legs of a curious horse. Her vision begins to blur as she tries to cover her naked body, sneezing uncontrollably in the rain. The cloaked rider jumps off the horse, leans over her and removes the hood. Her last thought as she looses consciousness again is "At least it's not a man..."

***

She was dreaming of a warm fire and bacon and eggs. Someone was calling with a soft voice that shone with green light. "Aniyana, wake up, dear." Her eyes popped open and she sat up straight. She was anywhere BUT in her dream.

The small room she was in was sparsely furnished, and clean to a fault. The small bed that held her so snugly was topped with two warm comforters in a deep green color. She noticed that she was no longer naked, but wearing a rough cotton nightgown. There was a wooden night table on the left of the bed and on the right was a wall with a small window, a thick one-piece green curtain covering the view. If not for the roaring fire in the small fireplace in the opposite wall, she would have thought the room unused, despite her own presence.

"So, you're awake." Her eyes darted to the dark corner near the fireplace and picked out the form of a woman sitting on a stool, gazing at her with a concerned, yet amused, smile. It was the woman from the muddy road. Her face was weathered and slightly leathery from years of outdoor work, but she was not a hard or ugly woman and the woman's icy blue eyes scrutinized the bed-ridden girl. The girl tried to sink back under the covers and hide from the examination. The woman rose from the chair, swung the pot out from over the fireplace with a long iron poker, and ladled a fair amount of stew into a bowl. Her floor length brown skirt swished against the floor of the tiny room as she sauntered to the bed and shoved the bowl into the girl's hands.

"You have such a blank look on your face, child. You've met me before, you know. Although, truth be told, you were probably too fevered to remember that." She sat on the edge of the bed, her white blouse straining across her ample bosom as she watched the girl stare at the food in her hands. "I've been keeping that warm for you all morning, and it should be pretty tasty. Even if it isn't you still have to eat it. Just because the fever feels like it's gone doesn't mean you're better." The girl slowly scooped up a spoonful of stew and stared at it. It smelled good. There were chunks of meat and vegetables peeking at her from the spoon and she realized how hungry she was. She made quick work of the bowl, listening mutely as the woman talked. "I'm Bala. I am an Innkeeper." Bala spoke to her in a soothing, velvety voice, and the girl very much liked the sound. "In fact, you are in my Inn right now. Not one of the guest rooms, those are a bit nicer, but in one of the rooms set aside for my workers. Only, since Inja got married to the shoemaker from Brenzefelt, it's been just me and the stable boy." Bala sighed softly, her breasts bobbing up and down with her breathing as she spoke. "So this room has been empty for a while..."

The bowl somehow disappeared when it was empty and came back a few moments later, refilled with more stew. The girl knew that Bala had done it, but she was fading in and out and didn't really remember the details. She tried to refocus on what Bala was saying. She was such a nice lady, feeding her and letting her sleep in her bed, the least she could do would be to pay attention when she talked. She stared at Bala's lips, the movement helping her to understand the sounds. "...usually don't take in strangers that can't pay, but my husband Granger always used to say... Bala! he'd say, You got too soft a heart. You gotta be tough like me. But he was just as soft as I am. So we took turns being the crusty one. But he's gone now." The slight change in timbre of Baal's voice told the girl that Granger must have died, and fairly recently too. She froze with her hand paused halfway to her mouth, spoon dripping food back into the bowl. She should say something. Wasn't she supposed to say something comforting?

"Eat!" Bala urged. "So are you going to keep me in suspense forever or are you going to tell me who you are and why you were running around in the forest natural as the day the goddess gave you to your folks?" The tilt of her mouth showed that Bala was half teasing, but the girl just looked down at the bowl of soup as if it would talk for her. When the bowl stubbornly refused to help, she took a deep breath to steady herself as she tried to think. "Um..." she cleared her throat. The fire crackled. She closed her eyes. And she remembered something from her dream. "I think my name is Aniyana." She breathed, her voice barely drowning out the crackles from the fireplace. "You think?" Bala asked gently, taking the untouched bowl and placing it on the night table. She grasped Aniyana's hands in her own. "Don't you know your own name, honey?" Bala's icy blue eyes bored into Aniyana; not intrusively, but gently seeking. "No, you're not sure, are you? You poor thing. Child, don't cry!"

Only after she heard the word "cry" did Aniyana realize that she was sobbing, her shoulders shaking as she dropped herself into the comforting arms of Bala. "I don't remember anything at all! All I know is I woke up on the ground, naked and I couldn't see too well and my head hurt and I was on the ground and it was raining and I didn't know where I was or who I was and I was trying to hide because I wasn't wearing any clothes but I fell and I couldn't see..." 

"Shh..." Bala murmured, her soft, calming voice breaking through the mess. "Hush, Aniyana. You are safe. You are safe and welcome here." For a few moments, Bala simply held her.

Aniyana wiped her tears with her hands and took a breath. She tried to thank Bala, but she just didn't have anything left. She opened her mouth and a small squeak escaped. "It's the fever, dear." Bala smiled. "But you'll be as good as new in a few days. Now," Bala stood, simultaneously tucking the bowl back into Aniyana's hands. "Eat this. I've left the Inn in the hands of the stable boy for too long already. I'll be back this evening."

Aniyana nodded her head and scooped up another spoonful as Bala turned to leave the room.

"Thank you, Bala." She said through a mouthful of stew. Bala smiled, chuckling softly as she closed the door behind her.

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- KC