So, Danka Siluckt’s travels ended when the Path of her Life finally brought her back to Rika Heckt-nemat. Who would have thought she’d end up precisely where her journey started? Certainly not the traveling singers and story-tellers, who already were making up increasingly sorrowful and outlandish versions of her adventures.
It seems that she lost all desire to travel after she married and became known to the world as Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna, Farmer Tuko Orsktackt’s wife from the east. She became the partner he needed to repair his broken farm, and in doing so, she helped him repair his broken soul. Within eight years she bore him seven children, of whom six survived to become adults. There were four boys and two girls, all of whom were vital to the rebuilding of Rika Heckt-nemat. One son became a city councilman, another became the town Church’s leading priest, another served in Parliament, and the youngest boy… the roughest one who was always causing trouble, eventually became captain of the city guard. The two surviving girls did just as well: one married the mayor of Rika Chorna, and the other stayed behind, to marry a farmer and double the size of the Orsktackt estate. The Orsktackts became one of the leading families in Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia during the nineteenth century.
Although she lost the desire to travel, Vesna’s soul remained restless. She took over the abandoned trading house in her city and converted it into a medical research center. The project had humble beginnings, just a few doctors, alchemists, and potion-makers studying medical texts and cadavers, but over time the medical library grew, a hospital was added, and the project flourished into the medical university that we have today. Vesna frequently visited the hospital, constantly asking questions and occasionally assisting the staff when they had to set broken bones.
Rika Heckt-nemat started to recover the same year the girl-with-no-name secretly returned home. Farmer Orsktackt impressed upon the city council the need for rat-control programs and improved sanitation. When word got out that the city was safe, outsiders came to take advantage of the free houses in the town and the free land outside. Eventually there were enough workers to re-start the aqueduct project. Workers returned to farms and orchards, the harvests were good, and the plague and famine of 1750 became a distant memory. Farmer Orsktackt and his wife continued their rides and hunting trips in the fields and forests, observing the countryside and noting with satisfaction the province’s recovery.
———-
The Grand Duke of Danubia spent the following decades working on a multitude of projects. In 1761, the son of the Lord of Novo Sokut Tok went to the capitol to talk to the Grand Master of the Trader’s Guild. From there he planned to travel to Austria, to see about procuring some new muskets for his father’s militia. The night before he was supposed to leave, he accepted an invitation from the Grand Duke to have dinner at his castle. Seated with the sovereign was a beautiful young woman who had just braided her hair. The young woman captivated the visitor, and turned out to be available for marriage, very much so. Three days later, without understanding what exactly had happened, the son of one of the men most loyal to the Vice-Duke of Rika Chorna was in the Great Temple of the capitol, getting married to the daughter of a man his father considered an enemy. The ceremony was very public and greeted with the blessings of the highest clergy members in the nation.
The young man had to cancel his plans to go to Vienna. Instead, he returned home with the Grand Duke’s daughter and the shocking news that his entire family had just switched allegiance. Along with his marriage certificate, the young man brought home a letter from the Grand Duke addressing his new in-laws with kind words of greeting and the “pleasure we will have working with each other as we address the challenges the Destroyer has placed at the feet of the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia.”
That marriage was the first out of many. Some ambitious politicians even traveled to the capitol to intentionally seek an audience with the ruler and bring back one of his daughters. In 1763, a junior council official from Platnackt Dek persuaded the Grand Duke to allow him to marry one of his daughters. The ruler normally would not have given a daughter to such a low-ranking official, but there was something about the young man that appealed to him. Perhaps he saw a lot of himself in the petty representative. Anyhow, he reluctantly followed his instincts and allowed the man to take away one of his less attractive offspring. Upon returning home the councilman used his new family alliance to seize control of the entire city, declare the area loyal to the sovereign, and appoint himself the local governor. The Grand Duke was very impressed with the young man’s audacity and rewarded him by adding several nearby towns to his jurisdiction and making Platnackt Dek a separate province.
Because of their perception of public honor and Danubian protocol, the Grand Duke’s sons-in-law never warned anyone else not to travel to the capitol or let their friends know how they had been duped. They had to pretend they had willingly married the sovereign’s daughters. As a result of the informal code of silence, years went by and no one could accurately calculate how many daughters the ruler actually was marrying off. Over five years the Vice-Duke lost family after family of his best allies to the wiles of his rival’s daughters. By June, 1767 he realized that more than half of the provincial governors, town council leaders, and guild chiefs had someone in their family who had married a daughter of the Grand Duke. At that point the idea of starting a rebellion or threatening a rebellion as a political maneuver had become impossible.
The Vice-Duke realized another awful fact; that his two surviving sons had recently departed for the capitol. The Vice-Duke desperately sent messengers to find the young men, but already it was too late. An elaborate entourage of Danubian Clergy members, Royal Guards, and ministers were escorting the happily-married young men back to their homes in the east. The Grand Duke led the procession, bringing with him gifts and bottles of his best wine to celebrate with his new in-laws. The Vice-Duke became dishonorably drunk at the festivities, while the Grand Duke looked on and coldly smiled.
The Vice-Duke died the following year. One of his heir’s first announcements was that farming taxes throughout the Vice-Duchy would be reduced. The heir also announced much of his father’s artwork and jewelry would be sold-off to pay debts.
In 1770, after a decade of planning, the Priests of more than half of the parishes in the Vice-Duchy declared they were switching allegiance to the Old Believers’ faction of the Danubian Church. The religious coup brought western Danubian religious traditions to the east and ended all foreign religious influence in the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia.
———-
The Grand Duke’s attentions were focused on the Duchy’s borders and securing control of the east, but occasionally he received reports about the plague town Rika Heckt-nemat and its recovery. Yes, a town that he had considered completely dead seemed to have recuperated and was starting to prosper. He sent a group of doctors to investigate the inhabitants and see if the quarantine should be lifted. Sure enough, not only was the town’s population healthy, but a new medical institute was operating, using a lot of the knowledge from the Cult of the Ancients. The messengers brought back news of the impressive work of the town’s leading couple: the farmer Tuko Orsktackt and his wife Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna.
The Grand Duke lifted the quarantine and re-routed the trade road to enter Rika Heckt-nemat. He decided to pay a visit to the city to see its progress for himself and investigate what the Crown could do to assist. Tuko Orsktackt, the town’s entire Clergy, and the City Council received the ruler in the most elaborate ceremony the city had seen in many decades. The Grand Duke and his ministers attended the Council to listen to suggestions that would improve the region.
The Grand Duke visited the medical institute the following day. He was eager to meet its director and see if she really did have knowledge from the Cult of the Ancients. When she approached him and saluted, he stared at her in shock. She looked very familiar: no, it was impossible, but there she was, right in front of him. He was looking into the face of his favorite concubine, the smart young Follower who had mysteriously vanished during the Great Fire. Yes indeed, it was her!
Director Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna smiled at her former Master. There was defiance and mischief in her expression, because there was no way the Grand Duke could do anything against her without seriously harming his own interests. He had come to the city to honor the achievements of the Orsktackts, with the entire political elite of the country watching. The ruler quickly regained his composure and congratulated her on the medical institute’s remarkable progress. When he asked what he could do to assist, she responded:
“Your Majesty has conducted extensive medical research and our people are grateful. I trust that Your Majesty would wish to see that remarkable work expanded for the people of the Duchy. This city would be most appreciative if Your Majesty could share your research materials with our school.”
“Yes, of course. Send your students to the Royal Library, and I will make my research available to your institute.”
Vesna couldn’t resist another mischievous smile and a final question:
“I trust that Your Majesty finds your loyal subject’s service to the Duchy satisfactory?”
“Yes. Your service has been, truly remarkable, exceptional.”
The Grand Duke kept his word and opened the Royal Household to students from Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna’s institute. She sent 14 young people to transcribe the entire contents of the Followers’ research. When they returned to Rika Heckt-nemat, a wagon crew transporting a gift from the Royal Household accompanied them. When Vesna took off the cover, she saw a printing press with a supply of parchment and bookbinding materials.
Vesna reciprocated the following year. She traveled to the capitol, passing the new ministry buildings that would comprise the ruler’s vision for the grand new city. She visited the castle and met with the Grand Duchess, who was the daughter of the Vice-Duke in Rika Chorna. She surprised the castle staff by not having any visible gifts for the ruler, but she asked to meet with him in his private study.
The Grand Duke seemed nervous, wondering if his former concubine wanted to confront him about the past. However, there was no mention of her two years in the castle at all. Instead, she presented her gift to him: a supply of blue powder. She showed him how to use it by making tea and explained how the Followers had set it aside to extend the lives of their most important researchers.
“This is the last of my supply, Your Majesty. Now it is yours. The Ancients have given you their final gift, and the only thing they ask in return is that you use your extra time among the Realm of the Living wisely.”
Vesna left the castle and never again saw the Grand Duke. However, after that meeting he changed. His arrogance vanished, leaving behind his intelligence, cunning, and desire to see his realm prosper. He became even more obsessed with research and education than he had been previously. He was interested in judicial reforms and infrastructure development and applied innovations throughout his time on the throne. He would live until 1816, long enough to guide the Duchy past the partitioning of Poland, the turmoil of revolution, and the Napoleonic wars. The ruler remained aloof from Europe’s politics, so the conflicts that afflicted the rest of the continent never troubled the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia.
———-
Isauria attended the university in Sebernekt Ris from 1759 until 1763, completing the four-year program to become a scribe of historical events. During that time she wrote and published numerous articles about the wars of 1754 and 1758. Later she wrote a book of poetry romanticizing life in the Kingdom before the country’s civil war. Her poems became particularly popular after 1764, when the Ottoman Sultan’s army crushed both factions and re-annexed the entire territory. As soon as the Kingdom of the Moon was lost, people throughout Europe immediately began to romanticize it.
Isauria married another student the same year she graduated from the university. Two years later the Grand Duke, not knowing anything about Isauria’s relationship with his former concubine, assigned her husband to join the Danubian ambassador in Constantinople. Isauria accompanied her spouse, undoubtedly passing through Sumy Ris and other parts of the former Lower Danubia. While abroad and living in a country where living conditions for women were much more constricted than in the Duchy, she alleviated her boredom by concentrating on her writing. She had been fascinated by the stories about her former mistress circulating around Sebernekt Ris and added new material to the tales and gossip she had collected during her year in Gordnackt Suyastenckt. She also was fascinated with Danka’s ill-fated marriage to Doctor Ilmatarkt and wrote a series of sad poems about the short-lived relationship. She embellished and romanticized many of the details.
Like various writers before her, Isauria did not mention Danka or Ilmatarkt by name. She did not use her own name and chose to publish using various pen-names. When she returned to the Duchy with her husband in 1775, she published a collection of poetry called “Lovers among the Ruins” that included not only material based on Danka’s adventures, but also various romantic fantasies and some of her own early sexual encounters with various boys serving as apprentices with the Defenders’ militia.
During the 1780s, two popular Danubian poets plagiarized Isauria’s work and recast her subject, using the increasingly popular title: “the girl-with-no-name.”
———-
There was one final tragedy that Danka, or Vesna, or the girl-with-no-name, had to endure. At the age of four, her youngest daughter died of appendicitis. Even though she had other children, she took the child’s death very hard. She refused to allow the girl to be buried in the family cemetery. Instead, she set off on her own, carrying the child’s body to an abandoned piece of land on the east side of Rika Heckt-nemat. In the days before the plague, the area had been a labyrinth of dirt paths and squalid huts, the home of the city’s day laborers. However, it had been totally abandoned for almost three decades. And yet, in those woods, next to a pond and the foundation of a ruined hut, Vesna insisted on laying her daughter to rest.
The following year, Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna had a chapel constructed on the site of her daughter’s grave, over-looking the pond. On the other side of the pond she later built another chapel to honor the families who had died in the rat-plague.
“There were people here. They’ve been forgotten, but that doesn’t mean they never existed. I plan to remember. My daughter and I will bear witness to the lives that passed through here, and the ones that ended here.”
The chapel project brought peace to Vesna’s soul. Over time her workers cleared away the brush and converted the woods into a large park. Her husband took official title to the entire area, but the two chapels became public places where the residents of Rika Heckt-nemat made pilgrimages and performed penance. A final touch for Vesna was reintroducing the ducks. The ducks were important to her and they have remained a feature of the pond for more than two centuries.
———-
Aided by his wife’s mysterious blue tea, Farmer Tuko Orsktackt lived to be 91 years old. In his old age he jokingly complained that his wife wouldn’t let him depart the world without her, and “she’s too busy to worry about trivial things such as dying.”
The year 1800 came and went. As the new century opened, Rika Heckt-nemat’s leading couple frequented the concert house to listen to musicians and traveling singing troupes. Almost all of the traveling singers had a version of the legend of the mysterious girl-with-no-name as part of their performance. As the ordinary citizens whistled and sang along to the sad tales, Vesna always gave Tuko a knowing look and took his hand.
The old couple smiled, thinking about the secret they shared, a secret they would take with them to the grave.
———-
Epilogue
Everything ends.
When the end-fate of anything in the Realm of the Living inevitably arrives, there is always the last one, a final survivor. The last specimen of an extinct species, the last building of a bygone epoch of architecture, the last speaker of a lost language, and the very last person practicing an ancient religion that has passed into memory.
The Cult of Ancients passed into memory and returned to dust, like every other human institution. It vanished from public view in late 1752, but fading remnants persisted for several decades beyond, like the embers of a campfire that was mostly extinguished, but not completely.
The embers of the Cult of the Ancients slowly faded throughout the late 1700s. Rumors persisted of strange bluish-green lights in the forests, along with the faint singing of ancient hymns in archaic Danubian. No one could verify the rumors: every time someone went to investigate, there was nothing to be found. Maybe a few ashes or flattened grass, but that was it. And, over time, the mysterious sightings became fewer and fewer, until they stopped altogether.
The final place in the Duchy to ever record rumors of a mysterious light and ancient singing was in the forest park just to the southeast of the provincial town of Rika Heckt-nemat. The lights and ancient hymns started after the funeral of the council’s leading citizen, Farmer Tuko Orsktackt. He died shortly after his 91st birthday, which was an incredibly long life for anyone during the early 1800s. His wife, Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna, put on a mourning robe and presided over his funeral. She then relinquished her leadership of the local medical school and research center and went into seclusion. She was never seen in public again.
About a week after Vesna Roguskt-Orsktacktna vanished from public life, a mysterious green glow-light appeared and strange singing began at the chapel that she and her husband had built, decades before, on the southern shore of a pond in the middle of the forest park. The chapel had been built in honor of the families who lived and died around that pond, in a time so long ago that no one else remembered them. Like the Cult of the Ancients, the residents had completely vanished from the Realm of the Living. There was only a single survivor of that community, a girl who had escaped just before the Destroyer swept through with the rat-plague. No one, and nothing else, remained.
Rumors had long circulated that the place was haunted, and that the curses of many years before continued to torment ghosts that wandered through the trees and stood around the shore of the pond after dark. The place was safe enough during the day, but to remain there after sunset was to tempt the Destroyer.
A week after Farmer Tuko Orsktackt was buried, another ghost showed up on the edge of the pond. The new ghost, which seemed to be a very old woman, carried a faint greenish-blue light that illuminated the upper part of her naked body. She walked through the trees and along the shore of the pond, and eventually led the other ghosts to the chapel. She knelt and stretched out her arms so the others could better see the light and find their way to where they needed to be. The illuminated ghost started singing, in a language not spoken for in the region for millennia.
The townspeople heard about the disturbing rumors, but the local Priests strictly prohibited anyone from going into the park after sunset to investigate. “The night at that pond belongs to those ghosts. Let the Realm of the Afterlife surface in that place, if it is necessary. Our Path in Life is to leave those curses and pains of the past undisturbed, so none of it enters the city. We don’t know what is happening there, and we don’t want to know. Having that knowledge is not our Path in Life.”
And so it was. On the admonition of the town’s Clergy, the people stayed away.
———-
The mysterious light and faint singing continued for six years. Then, on the morning of December 23rd, 1817, several of Tuko Orsktackt’s great-grandchildren found two notes that had been left for them when they were sleeping.
The first note read: “The deed to the family estate and our will are in the library strong-box. The key is inside the frame of your great-grandfather’s portrait. Take those papers to the Church and the Town Council immediately.”
The second note read: “Come out to the chapel, and you will find me. Bury me there, in an unmarked grave. Don’t worry about bringing a mirror. I took one with me.”
The family members walked out to the chapel. Sure enough, the frozen body of a very old woman, lying on her back and dressed in a black mourning robe, was waiting for them. There were two items next to her, a mirror and a silver bowl. The woman’s descendants, sworn to secrecy, quietly buried her and returned to their house.
On that date, December 23rd, 1817, the last person with any memory of the Cult of the Ancients held up her mirror before the Creator and entered the Realm of the Afterlife. The very last ember of that ancient fire went out.
excellent. Than you.
Thanks.
This is my favorite of your stories. I’ve read it at least 4 times, probably closer to 6. I am glad it is archived in another place and has found a new audience.
Thank you very much.