All the news, Signum Chronicle

Caltael the Sentinel Archer

The path of every warrior begins with his weapon. There is no better swordsman than one who forges his own sword. There is no better magician than the one who wrote his own best spell. And there is no better shooter than the one who grew the tree himself, cared for it for many years, and once cut out of it his own bow, ideally suited for him. Fits perfectly in the hand. Balanced according to the strength of the owner. Fitted to his height.

A magical green garden surrounded the Temple of Mother Nature. A young elf woman was standing near a tree that she had planted several years ago. Her mother, a temple priestess, watched with a smile as Caltael took care of her tree. “We are not free to choose where the trees grow! They themselves will appear where the will of the Two-Faced Elenris will indicate! ”, – she said when her daughter planted this tree. But year after year, watching how the young heiress takes care of him, the priestess has already forgotten about these words.

Caltael was just at the age when she should accept her clan’s cause, or lose her family name, leaving in search of a new one. A small blade appeared in the hands of the elf and a sharp swing separated the tree trunk from the ground. A thin tree fell at the girl’s feet.

– What are you doing?! – The mother ran to her daughter.
– This will be my bow. I gave this tree life and cared for it for one purpose only.
– You will become a priestess of Mother Nature! – You are not fit to kill and carry weapons! And cutting down a tree in the temple garden… How dare you?!
– Didn’t you tell me that men rarely hear the call of Elenris? That women are much closer to her and better understand what she wants?
– Why is this here?
– I feel what Two-Face expects of me. And I will serve her faithfully where I feel her call. After all, we are not free to choose where the trees grow. The fate of all those born is in Her hands.

Leaving her mother bewildered, Caltael raised her future bow and walked away. Becoming a priestess and heiress of a great priestly clan is a path of politics, prayers and superfluous rules. A path of honor, but of ephemeral success. Caltael felt that a different path awaited her. Simple and understandable, on which she can bring to Mother Nature that benefit that can be seen, that can be touched – the bodies of the enemies of the goddess.

Related Posts