Hella and the Widow

Summary

Hella and the Widow is an old story which they tell in the city of Nephatar on the world of Magicians' End. The version of the tale transcribed at the bottom of this article comes from Kromin Junovere's "Fables of Myruthea" which was published in 2864 APC and is the best known retelling, but it was already a traditional favourite long before, and the first ever written version dates back to 1942 APC. It tells of how the mysterious Net of Pruth came into the possession of the rulers of the city and what they did with it.

Historical Basis

The Net of Pruth is certainly a genuine magical artefact with powers of enchantment far more than any ordinary mage could create. Whether it came into the possession of the Fisher Kings and Queens of Nephatar in quite the way this traditional account relates there is really no way of knowing, but the story is at least as plausable as any alternative explanation, even if it requires the listener to accept the literal existence of the Old Gods, something most people are reluctant to do in these enlightened days.

Spread

The tale of how the Fisher Kings and Queens came by the gift of the Net of Pruth is widely and well known by Nephatarians, although perhaps less so outside the city, but if asked about it, most people throughout Magicians' End would have heard of the story, particularly after the Battle of the Rising Deep.

In Art

Many local artists in Nephatar, and some from further afield, have taken inspiration from this well known legend. The image at the head of the article is part of a famous painting by Klavaron Ithing, simply called "Hella and the Widow" and painted in 3863 APC, almost two thousand years after the events of the story. The artist imagines the moment when Hella discovers the true identity of the widow.

Date of First Recording

1942 APC

Date of Setting

1873 APC

Related Locations

• Nephatar

Related Organizations

• The Old Gods
• The Way of the Harmonic Path

Related Items

• The Net of Pruth

The story can be read in full with integrated images simply by scrolling down on this page. That is the best layout for text and pictures together, but if you prefer to read within a manuscript instead, I have made one available below. Images are also included inside but will be shown in a more linear fashion.

Hella and the Widow

READ

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Hella and the Widow

In the City of Fish, in an age long gone, there was once a steep and narrow road they called Wheat Street. About a hundred or so paces up the hill from the corner where Wheat Street came down to the river and met North Bank Road, there was a small temple of the Way of the Harmonic Path and in the temple there lived three priestesses from the Harmonic Order. The oldest was called Jodyth, the middle one was called Gemulae and the youngest was called Hella and they were all charged with the making of the divine music that keeps the soul on the path to glory.

Magicians' End - Jodyth by DMFW with Midjourney

Magicians' End - Gemulae by DMFW with Midjourney

Magicians' End - Hella by DMFW with Midjourney

Hella was the first to wake on a sunny morning in the month of Doloph and after a quick wash and a hasty breakfast of no more than two mouthfuls of oats and a splash of milk, she left to fetch water for the temple. In her left hand she carried a large wooden bucket, whilst her right arm held on to a loop of rope wound over her shoulder and tied to the handle of a second slightly smaller bucket which bounced against her hip as she hurried down the hill. On North Bank Road there was already a queue walking upstream towards the Fish Lord's Pier and Hella saw with a sinking feeling that Zane Pilder the fat old baker who had a shop in Crossgate Street was just ahead of her.
"Some men who attend our musical meditations are not here with their spiritual welfare in mind," Jodyth had warned Hella, somewhat tartly, after a difficult lunchtime performance when the complexity of the flute part she was playing had been compounded by an acute consciousness of the baker's undisguised gaze which had remained fixated on her throughout the service, making her blush and miss a few notes. Jodyth had clearly been irritated. "We are here to guide our congregation in the contemplative virtues of the Way of the Harmonic Path," the intimidating senior priestess continued, "this is not some house of fleshly pleasure!"
"It's hardly my fault is it?" Hella complained afterwards to Gemulae, who had seemed to find it all highly amusing. "He's old enough to be my father and I haven't done anything to encourage him."
"Perhaps you should then," Gemulae teased a little unkindly. "Zane Pilder would be a good catch - a fine upstanding city husband for a girl from Earthengrew wouldn't be bad eh?"
She had rolled her eyes and winked to show she was joking but Hella wasn't happy. In truth she was getting a bit tired of Gemulae's frequent references to her Earthengrew origins and accent, making her out to be a simple country bumpkin. Earthengrew was no metropolis but Hella did feel a little indignant at the (half joking) implication her home town was some kind of primitive outpost in the back of beyond. It wasn't. Earthengrew was a perfectly respectable small market town and not even that far from Nephatar. Sometimes she missed the little whitewashed hall on the hill where she'd been raised as an orphan by the priestesses in the local temple. She hoped they were faring well but in these hard days it was difficult for everyone. It had been for the best to take this chance of a move into the city when she came of age.
Zane Pilder had seen her approaching but Hella had no intention of providing the lecherous old baker with anything more than basic common courtesies so she returned his exaggerated bow with the most utilitarian of smiles, eager to get her errand concluded as quickly as possible so that she could get back to the temple. Within three minutes walk, a small queue had begun to build. It shuffled along without entirely stopping but to avoid getting into any kind of conversation, the priestess turned her head to gaze out over the waterway.
At low tide, the Nepha River looked unusually barren. The river's salinity varied with the ocean tides, reaching far inland and past the western wall of the city. To access relatively fresh water that could be easily purified by a common hedge mage, one had to draw it from the river where it was least affected by seawater and pollution. The Fish Lord's Pier served this purpose, extending from North Bank Road to the central channel where the main freshwater stream ran. The city provided a public service of pulleys and gears that facilitated the water collection, as long as people brought their own buckets and ropes.
"Leave some for the rest of us," some wit in the queue cried out to general laughter, as a fat man, his wife and two teenage children headed back into the city, all laden with water containers of various kinds which they were struggling to carry without spilling. Hella smiled too, but when she finally got a place to secure her own rope and buckets and looked over the edge of the pier she was shocked. How low the river was! She'd never really given it a thought before today but what if the river did run dry?
Ever since she was a little girl, people had been telling Hella that something was wrong with the sun. "It's too hot," they said. "It wasn't always like this. There's not enough rain." Even though she knew the priestesses saved something extra for her when they could possibly spare it, she had often been hungry as a child - the anxiety in Earthengrew at the start of each growing season, the desperation at harvest time and the fact that there rarely seemed to be enough to eat - well that was just normal wasn't it? It had always been like that for as long as she could remember and had there really ever been a time when it was different? Hella wasn't sure, but she knew that there used to be two reservoirs in the hills north of the city and previously reliable wells to the west which now delivered no more than a trickle. There had certainly been better times here in the city before the citizens had to get their water from the Fish Lord's Pier. Now seeing the river like this, she started to wonder whether there was even worse to come...
She had to queue again for a white haired old mage with a pitch just across the road who desalinated her two buckets, complaining as usual about how it wasn't the easy magic ignorant people thought. He took her coin and handed her a dry packet of the previously dissolved salt which she pocketed as she picked up the clean water. Then he announced to the world that he'd done enough for the morning and needed his rest. The disappointed people behind her grumbled loudly but they had no option now other than to find another mage, willing to do the work elsewhere in the city. There were only a few who had the skills and they were always in demand.
By the time Hella got back home the sun was already hot, although it was still early. She carefully emptied one bucket into the communal barrel in the refectory, making sure no drop was spilled as it refreshed the worryingly small existing supply. The barrel would have to last for the three of them until tomorrow's low tide and that included cooking, washing and drinking. The other bucket was for watering the plants in the tiny high walled vegetable patch behind the northern apse. They were in sore need of it, but a decent crop of tomatoes was ripening on the vines and promised some welcome variety in the priestesses' frugal meals within the next day or so. The twin rows of potatoes and peas weren't as far advanced, but Hella was doing all she could to nurture them. It was hard to get fresh fruit and vegetables from the market these days and with a recent influx of refugees there was much talk that rationing would soon have to be introduced. At least supplies of fish were still plentiful and that was one reason why the city attracted the hungry and lost who had abandoned their homes in the increasingly barren interior of the continent.
It was peaceful in the vaulting spaces of the empty temple, when Hella let herself back into the main building. Jodyth had locked herself into the tiny chapel above the stage where she often liked to pray in private before beginning her public duties. Gemulae was still at the market and if she wasn't still haggling for bread, milk and fish she was probably flirting with the blacksmith's son who helped his uncle in the ironmonger's store on Veldays and Nimdays. It was incredible how many curtain rings and hooks suddenly needed replacing or repairing, and seemingly one at a time if each one meant another visit to the shop. So Hella had the place to herself, apart from a pair of silverfinches twittering in the rafters. They flitted in and out of a golden gap in the roof where the early morning sunlight shone through and brought life to the faded red and green colours of the peeling fresco on the western wall.
The roof ought to be repaired and the fresco ought to be repainted, but the temple was far from rich. "If the rain comes though the roof we'll be glad enough to get it," Jodyth had observed, and that was true enough.

Magicians' End - Nephatar Harmonic Temple by DMFW with Leonardo AI

Magicians' End - Nephatar Harmonic Temple - Silverfinches by DMFW with Midjourney

The Fey Lynodyth by DMFW with Midjourney

The Chapel of Tones was a small rehearsal room on the side of the temple, built with carefully structured acoustics. The heavy wooden door was half way along the western wall and it creaked softly when Hella opened it, revealing a shaded interior bathed in the indirect light coming from two high lattice windows. Along the northern wall, there was a portrait of Lynodyth, the founder of the Way of the Harmonic Path. Three handsome but worn wooden chairs, a small table with a stone and brass metronome and a bench against the southern wall completed the furnishing.
From a fold inside her robe, Hella carefully removed a silver flute that had been gifted to her by the sisters at Earthengrew. It was her most prized possession, not only because of the nostalgic ties to her home town but because it provided her with the means to fulfil her spiritual duties, music she loved to play as well as the more quotidian refrains that gave structure to the temple rituals. There was a complex piece she was working on and her mind was almost fully absorbed in the difficult fingering when a faint knocking distracted her and she set the instrument aside.
The main entrance to the temple was barred from the inside and wouldn't normally be opened until a quarter to the tenth bell to admit worshippers for the morning service. Since it was only a little after the eighth bell it was still too early for that. The priestesses had their own keys to private doors to the refectory and gardens, accessed via a narrow alley between the neighbouring buildings on Wheat Street which was how Hella had come and gone this morning and how she expected Gemulae would as well, so who could this be?

Peering through the grill in the great wooden doorframe, Hella saw the small figure of an old woman wearing a black headscarf and shawl. She guessed it was one of those refugees from hunger in the continent's interior, perhaps a widow by her dress, but at any rate no one she recognised. There were so many like her these days.
"You are too early for the morning worship," Hella told her.
"Then can I sit and wait inside?" the woman asked. "It is so hot out here and I am so thirsty! I will be no trouble."
Hella paused for an instant. Jodyth was very strict about only allowing members of the laity into the temple for official worship and she almost certainly wouldn't be happy if the widow was admitted now, but the young priestess could see how downcast and needy the old woman was and she didn't hesitate for long.
"Please sit here," Hella said, indicating a bench by the west wall as she closed and barred the main doorway again. "I'll fetch you a cup of water."
No sooner had she returned with the promised drink than Gemulae came whistling into the temple and at almost the same moment the door to Jodyth's sanctum opened.

Magicians' End - The Widow by DMFW with Midjourney

"Remember, Little Laque Quay at the fifteenth bell, and don't be late!" a voice neither of them had heard before was saying. "The tide and ships won't wait and we need your best efforts for this!"
For once Gemulae was silenced and instinctively the two young priestesses bowed their heads as they recognised the robes of the City Harmoniser, their spiritual leader in Nephatar and only one step below the Grand Harmonizer herself. Jodyth followed the man out into the temple, looking flustered and obviously so distracted she didn't think to complain about the presence of the widow.
"We have a commission from the Fisher King", the senior priestess explained to her two juniors once the City Harmoniser had left. "All the temples in the city do. We're just a part of it. Today's public services will have to be cancelled. We need to learn some new music and we don't have much time!"

---

It was a long walk down the full length of Low Fish Road to Little Laque Quay and the three priestesses from Wheat Street set off well before noon. If it had just been Hella and Gemulae they might have left later but Jodyth could only manage a sedate pace and they couldn't be sure to get any transport. Also, they were all carrying their musical instruments and needed to take care of them.
As they got closer to the heart of the city, the crowds picked up, jostling the increasingly footsore musicians. Hella grappled with the unfamiliar weight of the harp she was carrying. It hadn't seemed so heavy when they set out, but now it was starting to become a burden. It wasn't just the weight, the shape was awkward too. She had to keep shifting it from arm to arm to relieve the strain on her muscles. It had been quite a morning, she reflected. To begin with, she'd found herself interceding in the inevitable altercation when the widow asked if she could stay in the temple.
"I have nowhere else to go," she began humbly enough. "Can I rest in the cool, at least until you all come back?"
Jodyth was not best pleased but when the widow suggested that she could look after the temple so it was not left empty whilst the priestesses were away, something in the appeal must have touched her for she reluctantly agreed. There were more important concerns this morning and it wasn't as if they'd be leaving much of value behind. They were taking the temple's finest instruments and what was left was little more than stone and sunshine.
"You can sleep in my room whilst we're out," Hella whispered when Gemulae and Jodyth had stomped ahead into the rehearsal room to argue about harmonies and musical arrangements. "It's the first one on the left at the top of the refectory stairs."
Then came the practice for the special music needed for the Harmonic Order's spell. It was difficult and unfamiliar and it needed to be played with instruments none of them specialised in. Tempers frayed as wrong notes and crazy rhythms broke the pattern of the syncopated music in ways that weren't in the score. Hella would much rather have been playing her own beloved flute. She could get by with the harp but it was always a struggle for her. Gemulae was even worse with the violin and Jodyth was far from the best on an acoustic guitar. The less said about the singing the better. They were all despondent after their fifth run through and there was no time to refine the performance.
"If we mess it up, it will be worse than not playing at all," Gemulae pointed out unnecessarily, as if they didn't know as much already. "The City Harmoniser won't be pleased. We'll probably all get thrown out of the temple."
"We shall just have to trust in the divine intervention of Lynodyth," Hella offered, hardly sure she could trust any such thing herself, but there was no point in undermining their collective confidence further.
There was only one satisfying aspect to the disruption to their daily routine and that was shutting the door on the surprised face of Zane Pilder when he came for the tenth bell service.
"No services today," Hella told him with a certain degree of enjoyment. "We have more important work to do, enhancing the greater harmonic themes of the spirit of the world. We can't always be here to play for the neighbourhood you know."
"Well if that's anything like the racket I just heard," the fat baker quipped maliciously, "let's hope the spirit of the world has good ear plugs!" Hella had to admit to herself that he had a point.
There was one more troublesome moment that marred their departure. Hella had gone ahead with Gemulae whilst Jodyth was showing the widow how to bar the door and giving her some last minute instructions about not letting anyone else in the temple until they returned. Just on the edge of hearing, Hella caught the end of some heated altercation. The widow had been showing Jodyth something and the senior priestess was clearly angry and dismissive. It was weird.
"What was all that about at the door?" Hella finally asked Jodyth now that they were well on their way.
"Oh it was some complete nonsense!" Jodyth said. "Can you believe she was asking for some of my hair? She said the silver threads would repair some heirloom she'd broken. Or something. I couldn't make sense of it and it wasn't the right time and place to discuss it. I told her to be grateful we were letting her stay and that we had important business to attend to!"
The recollection of this argument seemed to be making Jodyth angry all over again, and since they were all getting tired and cross, Hella let it go. The press of people was getting thicker as they got closer to the centre of the city. It was so hot!
"We're never going to make it at this rate, Gem," Hella said a short time later when they rounded the bend by the sprawling Blue Flag Inn and could see the length of the river frontage which still stretched away to their destination.
"We need a ride," her friend answered, which was a fine idea but how were they going to get one? "Leave it with me," the blonde continued as if reading Hella's mind. Glancing quickly round she adjusted her cloak and bodice in a somewhat provocative manner that Hella hadn't even known was possible. Then with no further warning she stumbled into the central lane of Low Fish Road, as if by accident, and staged a fall in front of a horse and cart that was realistic enough to make a startled Hella cry out in surprise before the horse pulled up short.
"Oh I'm so sorry!" Gemulae exclaimed, blinking up at the handsome fisherman who had been guiding the cart down the left lane in the middle of the street. In two beats he'd jumped down into the road to assist the sprawling priestess.
"Unorthodox but effective," the fisherman remarked to Hella, when a short while later she found herself sitting upfront with him, whilst Jodyth, Gemulae and their musical instruments all rode behind in the cart with the buoys, fishing nets and crab cages. "Your friend can be very persuasive, but I'm not entirely sure that was an accident." He seemed more amused than angry though, so although Hella blushed slightly she neither confirmed nor denied the accusation. His name was Maris and as his stolid horse laboured on all their behalf, he explained that he was the skipper of a fishing boat called the 'Pride of Laque'.
"Is it really that bad?" Hella ventured, for there was an unspoken reason behind this whole magical ceremony which had unsettled all the priestesses, since the City Harmoniser had explained to Jodyth why they were being called upon and she had shared it with her juniors.
Maris frowned.
"We've been told not to talk about it. Mustn't start a panic, they say. Rumours get out anyway though, and people can see what's happening at the markets with their own eyes. Now that the Harmonic Order has been brought in, it's going to be open knowledge soon enough, I expect, so yes, it is that bad. We're not catching the same quantity of fish we always used to - nothing like it."
"So many hungry people in town," Hella couldn't help but respond.
"Still not to worry, miss," Maris said. "We've got the three priestesses from Wheat Street on our side now, so I'm sure we'll be fine!"
He laughed and Hella blushed again. It might have been a form of mockery but the fisherman spoke without malice and with a twinkle in his eye that told of a natural good humour. Hella decided she rather liked him.

---

The Laque district of the city occupied the last part of the northern bank of the Nepha where there was still a clearly defined central channel before the river sprawled out into a muddy estuary, and Little Laque Quay, which offered decent docking facilities, was the mooring site for most of the fishing fleet based in the city. When their cart turned into the quayside approach, Maris suggested that this was a good place for the priestesses to leave him and report to the City Harmoniser.
There was an atmosphere of barely organised chaos as sailors prepared to board their vessels and members of the Harmonic Order milled around in some confusion, waiting for instructions. The tide was not yet at the full but it had risen far enough to lift all the boats. An ensemble from the Prime Temple had taken up one of the few open spaces at the water's edge, just a few musicians and singers, and they were already engaged in some shoreside fish charming.

Magicians' End - Nephatar - Fish Charming by DMFW with Leonardo AI

A small school of the shiny white and iridescent flying fish they call skyfinners were flittering round their heads, occasionally diving into the waves and then emerging from the foam to hover and dart like dragonflies of the sea, captivated by the music. The skyfinners were tasty morsels and at some point they'd be netted, in the air or in the water; an excitable end to a successful charming, but it wasn't going to feed the city.
"Very pretty," Maris mumbled under his breath, as he helped Jodyth down from the cart and passed the heavy temple harp back into Hella's care. The priestess wasn't sure if he was referring to the sparkling flying fish, the beautiful fish charmers, the harp, or even, she speculated for a mad instant, herself. Then he was gone and the three priestesses went to join the other members of their order, waiting for confirmation of the details of the forthcoming arcane choreography.
Jodyth caught sight on an old friend who worked at the south bank Dakday Mission House and rarely came over the river and they were soon deep in conversation. They had much to talk about, with city politics, the famine, the music and the arcane plans in which they were all due to participate now. Gemulae, however, had no interest in any of that.
"I don't know how you do it," she said to Hella. "Here, I am going to all that trouble, literally throwing myself in the road to hook a fisherman and you ride away with my catch, leaving me stuck in the cart with Jodyth. Not bad, though, wouldn't you say? I think he likes you. Zane Pilder might have missed his chance and I must admit the skipper of a fishing boat is better than a baker."
"Better than a blacksmith's son, too?" was Hella's mildly barbed response, but Gemulae just laughed. "Maybe," she said. "We are running out of temple ironwork that needs fixing. So if you want him, you'd better say so, or next time we meet I might try and steal him from you!"
Fortunately for Hella there wasn't much time to continue this line of conversation, as amusing as Gemulae thought it was to tease her younger colleague. A shout from the top of a pair of crates called all the chattering priestesses to attention. They'd expected to see the City Harmoniser but he was also flanked by two mages from the palace and the Fisher King himself, who gave them all a very short speech on the importance of their task before they were taken through the plans in detail.
The teams from each local city temple would ride out as passengers with the fleet, which was bound for the fishing grounds beyond the black sands light. The precise location of each ship and the timing of the ceremony were critically important for the spell the mages and the City Harmoniser had devised. They assured all their listeners that it was fine-tuned to fishes from the shallows and the continental waters and definitely wouldn't attract any of the monsters of the deep. So emphatic were they on this last point, that Hella, who had never even considered the possibility before, now felt more than a little anxious. The lead priestess in each boat would be given a signal light that would turn from red to green, so that at the most propitious moment everyone should start their musical contribution, building a divine route in the spirit of the Way of the Harmonic Path, reinforced by a flux of magical incantation and guiding wayward fish into the nets of the trawlers. It was, in short, like a very large scale version of the fish charming ceremony they'd just witnessed on the quayside, but over an area and at a magnitude never attempted before.
At last the final questions from the excited and nervous musicians had been answered and all that remained was assignment to their ships. One by one, the leaders of each little group queued to be given their embarkation orders.
"Wheat Street. Let's see... The 'Pride of Laque' moored on Bollard ten," the City Harmoniser told Jodyth, pointing out the place where Maris and his crew were preparing to sail.

---

Fisherman Maris by DMFW with Leonardo AI

Away from shore there was the faintest whisper of an early afternoon breeze which was just enough to cool the sailors and their passengers but the sun remained fierce enough to burn unprotected skin. Maris had a stock of little pots of an oily, pale green, salve made from some amalgam of seaweed and fish paste, and he handed one to each of the priestesses.
"We all use this at sea in high summer," he said, then observing the way Gemulae wrinkled her nose, continued with a laugh. "Stinks a little bit until you get used to it but it'll save you from getting cooked. Make sure you cover the back of you neck, your forehead and your arms - anywhere where there's bare skin."
The captain seemed pleased to see them, but as Hella reminded herself, he hadn't heard them play yet.
"No Spearwings," one of the sailors observed with a sigh, looking at the blue sky which was empty of seabirds. "Bad sign."
"The Spearwings follow the fish and we would try to follow them under normal circumstances," Maris explained. "Doesn't always work."
"Got a few clouds today, though," someone else piped up hopefully. "Maybe get some rain if we're lucky? Maybe reach the shore if they're even luckier."

It was mid afternoon and 18th bell before the fleet was in the required position. There had been no rain and by now the breeze had died down and the sea was almost mirror smooth. The fleet had cut their engines and in the absence of the background churn and hum of the screw propellers there was only the sound of wind and water. A little chirp and a flash of green, signalled that it was time to begin the music.
Then the priestesses commenced the most stressful performance Hella could ever remember and that included at least two critical tests that would have finished her membership of the Harmonic Order if she'd failed.

Magicians' End - Nephatar - Fishing by DMFW with Midjourney

The guitar began on its own, Jodyth holding them in a fierce gaze, the first chord slightly discordant by design, the keyshift that was Hella's cue to begin, a little out of time by accident. Then Hella was strengthening the sound, covering Jodyth's minor slips and playing a complex counterpoint to the guitar, which dropped in and out of the beat. A few bars later they had got over the tricky introduction, with Gemulae coming in with the violin on a high note and adding a sweet cascade of notes which took them into the long central movement. From that point on, they hit a groove and the music started to perform its magic.
It wasn't bad at all. In fact it was far and away the best they had played this crucial piece since seeing the score for the first time only that morning. Lynodyth had truly looked with favour on their efforts!
The fishermen, who in all honesty were prepared to try anything that could improve the catch, were in their hearts about as sceptical an audience of non-believers as the Harmonic Order priestesses would ever encounter. Yet even they could sense the working of the arcane threads which travelled from boat to boat and under the water, urging fish into the nets that had already been deployed.
"It's actually working," Hella thought to herself as she struggled to find the fingering for the next section. But then somehow, in some way, there was a subtle error. It hadn't come from their boat, she was sure. It came from across the water. There was an arcane discordance in the lines of communication which affected all the musicians who sensed that their work was failing. They struggled to hold the theme, to reinforce the tune and to find the complex rhythms they were supposed to be contributing to the grand design. It was no good. With a sob of frustration, Jodyth threw the guitar down and then they were all reeling.
The Pride of Laque was hardly moving in the slow swell but neither was it entirely steady and that must have been a part of it. Then too, Hella hadn't eaten since breakfast. The delivery of the magical music had been difficult and induced a great deal of anxiety. As much as she loved playing in private, Hella was naturally shy and was still working on ways of overcoming her nerves in public performances. Add to that the heat of the day and the strange psychic feedback when the magical threads tore apart and it is small wonder that from some combination of any or all of these, she suddenly felt queasy and a little faint. Turning her head over the side of the boat she retched desperately and spasmodically into the ocean, an evacuation which brought little relief on an almost empty stomach.
She stared miserably out over the gently rolling swell, head bowed with the acid reflux still burning her throat and felt something slip between the folds of her cloak. With a cry of anguish she lurched forward to retrieve the flute that was tumbling into the ocean. Her centre of gravity tipped over the railing and Hella tumbled after her prized possession, into a shocking green world of salt water, which closed over her head even as she saw the flute escape her grasp and sink into the depths...

---

The tuneful chirping of the temple's resident silverfinches woke Hella late in the morning. It took her much longer than usual to come round and remember the dramatic events of yesterday. With a guilty cry she realised that she'd missed the low tide and the morning trip to the river to replenish their stock of fresh water. The thought made her sit up rapidly but then she immediately felt dizzy and had to sink back and close her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them again, Jodyth, Gemulae and the old widow were suddenly all in her room, wanting to see how she was.
Gemulae had a welcome cup of water and understanding Hella's unspoken concern, informed her that she'd taken on her duty this morning and fetched their water.
"And have you watered the plants?" Hella asked.
"Yes, yes, don't fuss!"
"We were worried about you," Jodyth said simply. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Tired," Hella answered honestly. "Maybe just a little feverish. I don't know."
"Have you been skipping meals?" the widow asked.
"Well, there's never enough to go round and I'm not always hungry so..."
"There is today," the widow said. "And I'm going to see that you get a good breakfast inside you when you're ready to come down."
"No services today," Jodyth said. "It's a rest day. I want you to rest and get well. And eat properly."
"My flute!" Hella remembered. The one thing of sentimental value which she still had from her home in Earthengrew was now at the bottom of the ocean. How was she going to tread the way of the harmonic path without it? It wasn't like Hella to be emotional. She always thought of herself as a practical soul, but then she wasn't used to being the centre of attention and suddenly it was all a bit overwhelming. Put it down to the fever (because she really was unwell), put it down to stress, put it down to tiredness or all three but something came welling up from inside all at once, and she burst out in tears.

---

It was a little after tenth bell when a more composed if subdued young priestess sat down with the others at the refectory table.
"I'd only just given you that glass of water and I thought you were going to sob it all out," Gemulae said, provoking a wan smile from her friend.
"A good cry never hurt anyone," the widow woman said. She had prepared their breakfast herself. The delicious sound of frying fish was complemented by the aroma of lemon and sage, and by the time it was set down in front of them, Hella found she had more of an appetite than she imagined.
"Can you tell me what happened yesterday afternoon please?" she asked timidly as they ate, "I... I can't really remember it properly. I think I really was ill. I... I'm better now though?"
That would have been a more convincing assertion if it hadn't been said with a slightly plaintive intonation, halfway between a question and a statement. The other women exchanged concerned glances but Gemulae was the first to respond.
"Well, you certainly made more than a bit of a splash," she began. "I have to admit, I thought I knew how to get that fisherman's attention when I threw myself in front of his cart but you're on a different level, Earthengrew girl!"
Even Jodyth had to smile at that, although she didn't exactly approve of Gemulae's joking interpretation of events.
"Maris jumped in straight after you as soon as he saw you fall overboard. You were in a state. I mean confused and more than half drowned. He got you back on the boat, you must remember that?"
Hella could remember coughing up water for a long time, then her mind went blank.
"We got a lift back all the way to the temple afterwards," Gemulae continued. "Nothing was too much trouble for our fine fishing captain. And he gifted us some of the best parts of his catch, which you're eating now. He was very worried about you."
"D... did it work then?" Hella asked. "The whole fish charming spell? I thought it had failed."
"The catch was better, but it wasn't good enough," Jodyth answered. "That's what the authorities are saying. The spell just disintegrated too soon. Rumour has it that the Deep Sleepers were turning over down in the sea bed and that was the source of the corruption."
"What now then?"
"We try again. Apparently the spell casters have another idea. Some alternative music that is supposed to work better with a different charm spell and definitely won't disturb the Deep Sleepers this time. In theory."
So it turned out that it was actually a practice day, which wasn't quite the same thing as a rest day, Hella felt, even if the priestesses didn't have public services to conduct. She didn't feel ready to face other people today though, so it was good to have just the three of them together and to have some proper time to work on their performance of this new score, which had arrived with couriered instructions whilst Hella was still sleeping.
Well, actually it wasn't just the three of them. There was also the widow, who had somehow graduated from visitor to guest.

Cooling Pot from the Kingdom of Snowborne 01 by DMFW with Leonardo AI

"Do you have a cooling pot anywhere in this kitchen?" she asked. "We've got more than enough fish here to last for two more days, but only if it can be kept out of this heat or it will spoil soon enough. I can make some salted pastes that'll keep longer, but they won't be as nice."
"The only one we've got is an old thing over there in the back corner of the larder," Jodyth said. "It doesn't work though. Hasn't done for as long as I've been here. We should throw it out."
"Let me look," the widow said and then a few moments later she exclaimed in surprise. "Do you know what this is?"
"An old cooling pot that doesn't work," Gemulae said. "We told you!"
"Dear oh dear", the widow tutted. "Does nobody remember anything these days? This isn't just any old cooling pot. Do you know how old this cooling pot is?"
"How old is it then?" Jodyth asked, half in irritation and half in curiosity.
"Older than this temple for a start. Older than your city as a matter of fact, and then some. This pot of yours dates back to the days before the Planar Conformation. And further still, if you believe it. It's older than the Old Pale Empire. It's older than your entire faith. When Lynodyth walked the earth, this cooling pot was already someone's precious possession. It's older than the Sundering. Your cooling pot was made on Zisleth by the mages of the Kingdom of Snowborne in the Axial Tower and when it was first made it would have been charged and enchanted with polar snow. It's one of only a very, very few that still survive from that original design."

"Still doesn't work, though," Gemulae said with apparent scepticism, but you could tell she was impressed and was looking at the elaborately decorated blue and white glazed vessel with fresh eyes.
The widow sighed in exasperation. "It's like all old things," she said. "It needs some care and attention - someone to look after it. These pots can be made to work again, they just need a suitable sympathetic seed and a little light re-enchantment and it'll be better than every other pot in this city, I'll vouch for that. And I'll take care of it, if you let me."
Jodyth shrugged. What had they got to lose?

---

"We weren't the only ones to struggle yesterday," the old priestess told her junior colleagues when they were all sitting in the Chapel of Tones. "It's been decided all the temples need more time to learn and rehearse, so we're getting a morning AND an afternoon and then if we pass tomorrow's early test, it'll be onto the boats again for the sixteenth bell high tide."
"Test? What test?" Gemulae queried.
"The City Harmoniser and his team will be going round all the temples listening to their performances. He'll judge whether each one is good enough to meet the standards of the new magical casting. He's starting in the west and working his way towards the quayside and we have an early slot at eighth bell."
There were a number of optional parts which could be combined according to the availability of instruments and musicians and the priestesses spent half a bell just studying the scores and discussing their options although in the end it was Jodyth's decision.
The senior priestess took the harp, Gemulae was allocated a violin part again and it was decided that since Hella's flute was no longer an option, she would take a pure singing line. The youngest priestess also had the best voice of them all, a sweet mezzo-soprano with good breath control, although she could not project it with the sustained volume that some more challenging performances demanded. Fortunately, this particular arcane harmonic ritual did not require especially loud vocals although it was still a complex piece of music. Soon, all three of them were absorbed in the learning process and they were so focused on their collaborative work that when Jodyth declared it was time for a break, Hella could hardly believe it was midday already.
The widow had prepared a meal again and the priestesses silently agreed that she was a most helpful guest and a welcome one whilst they had these new duties. It was fish of course, but this time it had been steamed and marinated in a spicy sauce and was served with potatoes, peas and a loaf of Zane Pilder's bread. It was absolutely delicious and all four of them ate with relish.

Turquoise Wallstone 02 by DMFW with Leonardo AI

"I used leaves of wallstone to provide that hot peppery savour," she explained in answer to a question from Jodyth. "You have plenty of it growing in the cracks in the temple walls. I just harvested a little. And don't worry, I didn't take from your garden. The vegetables came from the market, at a steep enough price though, I can tell you!"
The widow was clearly pleased by their compliments but most pleased by her success in restoring the cooling pot, which became clear when they had all finished eating.
"The cost of ice round here!" she grumbled good naturedly. "Back in Soque it used to be virtually free. Maybe not now though. I don't know. Anyway I suppose these transformation mages have to make a living and it can't all come from desalination. Still, mage ice is extortionate. Just as well you won't be needing it now," she concluded smugly, showing them all the results of her work.
The pot was indeed cold and the remaining fish, good for two more meals, was sitting at the bottom, packed in ice.
"The sympathetic seed was the easy part," the widow said, "despite the cost. Really it should have been natural polar ice. Magemade ice is about the worst possible substitute but it's the only thing I could get in this city. The difficult part was re-enchanting the pot. I didn't need to pay a mage for that. I knew how to do that myself. You don't live as long as I have without picking up a few tricks on the way. Anyway, I'd say this is now good for another fifty years before it needs recharging."
A large jug of water had been placed at the bottom of the pot and the contents cooled to a refreshing temperature. Hella had forgotten what it was like to have a nice cold drink on a hot day and as lovely as the meal had been, she thought that little luxury was the highlight.
"It's a shame not everything is so easy to mend," the widow said and her face fell.
Jodyth frowned as their guest drew out a hair net, the same one that had caused that strange little fracas as they left the temple yesterday. The widow ignored the older priestess who had refused her then, and turned her attention to the violin player.
"Your hair is lovely," she said, brightening and addressing Gemulae. "It's so long and golden. It would be perfect to repair my net. Can you not spare me two lengths?"
Gemulae's startled response was instinctive and forthright. "No! My hair is lovely and I thank you for saying so, but I need my lovely hair..."
"Only to attract men!" Jodyth snorted.
Gemulae bridled. "I need it to keep my dignity. We're representing the temple at sea tomorrow. How would it look if my hair was all cut to shreds? Besides, you never offered your hair yesterday, did you and that was only one cut you told me?"
The old priestess and her young deputy glowered at one another.
"In any case, who mends a hairnet with hair?" Gemulae continued, turning away. "It's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of! You don't use hair to make a hairnet!"
The widow sighed. "I had hoped," she began but then seemed at a loss for words. "It doesn't matter. The hair must be freely given and your hair is yours to do with as you wish, just as you say. Forget I asked."
The little altercation was soon over but it had soured the atmosphere of good cheer they'd all been enjoying and the afternoon practice sessions began badly. Even so, the music they were working on had a definite compelling quality and Hella felt a growing respect for the composer. As they all absorbed the themes and worked to interpret the intent of the piece and bring it to life, the soothing magic of music calmed them all.
By evening the trio of musicians were feeling quietly confident about their ability to make the music the new sea spell required. The widow seemed very happy to have become their informal cook whilst they were all working so hard and for their evening meal she'd even managed to skip the fish and offered up a cheese omelette with mushrooms. Who knew what prices she'd had to pay at market for these luxuries? The priestesses were grateful and didn't ask. Any lingering hint of animosity that might have arisen from the refusal of the widows strange request at lunchtime dissipated as they all ate together again.
There was much discussion of the new spell, speculation about tomorrow's test, which made them all nervous, and the prospects of success. Hella was quite caught up in the excitement of it all and couldn't help but wonder if they'd be sailing on the 'Pride of Laque'. She'd like to see Maris again. She wanted to thank him for rescuing her from drowning and she wanted to show him that she wasn't just some silly girl who fell in the ocean when the boat rocked. She had genuine talent as a singer and she could make a contribution to helping his ship bring more fish back to the city.

---

Hella didn't sleep well. It was the latest in a succession of warm nights and the heat disturbed her, making her restless and unsettled, but her high temperature wasn't simply due to the ambient conditions. She was running a mild fever and slipped in and out of a number of vexing, forgettable dreams that left her feeling emotionally wrung out and exhausted without due cause. It was after the third bell before she finally settled into a longer period of more sustained slumber and when she woke in the morning her throat was dry and sore.
The widow had been given a spare pallet to sleep on by the temple entrance and as Hella stumbled down the stairs and into the main building, she thought she heard her talking in a soft voice to someone. There was a black cat and a swirl of strange grey smoke which made Hella's eyes water, and she gave a couple of painful coughs that aggravated her sore throat. The widow waved her left hand in some complex articulation and the smoke twisted rapidly, coalesced and vanished. Suddenly there were two black cats. Hella blinked in confusion. For a moment it looked almost as if that second cat had formed out of the smoke, but she must have just failed to notice it before.

The widow and one of her cats by DMFW with Midjourney

"This is Nyx and this is Myx," the widow said, pointing to each of the animals in turn, although to Hella's eyes the sleekly handsome and glossy pair were quite indistinguishable. "They are two old friends of mine. They are my dream cats."
Hella had no idea what that meant. "They're lovely," she said vaguely, her voice croaking.
"Not everyone thinks so," the widow muttered obscurely. "Now sit down! I can see you're worrying about the morning water run. Leave that with me! I can go to the Fish Lord's Pier today, you have enough to think about. But before that, I'm going to get you a drink, you sound like you need one."
Hella's knees felt a bit wobbly and she sat down on a small flight of stone steps, just for a short rest, she told herself, as she allowed the widow to fuss over her, collecting the water buckets for the river and bringing her a drinking pot of ice cold water from the kitchen. Her aching throat closed around the cool liquid but it did bring some numb relief as she swallowed it.
Nyx or Myx jumped on to her lap and settled there, purring loudly as she stroked it. Hella had some obscure feeling she'd met the cat before somewhere, but she couldn't think how or where. In any case the cat radiated a feeling of relaxed contentment and Hella was happy to be soothed by the somewhat forward feline.
"Look after her," the widow said as she slipped out of the side door and Hella had the slightly disconcerting thought that she couldn't quite tell if the old woman had been talking to her or talking to the cat...

---

Nephatar - City Harmoniser Kradovah Moltetch by DMFW with Leonardo AI

City Harmoniser Kradovah Moltetch was considerably younger than his predecessor and by all accounts possessed a brilliant and incisive mind, coupled with ruthless ambition. These attributes had only recently taken him to a position where he was now in charge of all the Harmonic Order temples in Nephatar, with a radical mission to reform their programmes and practices. He was an unsettling and divisive figure and many of the older members feared his withering scorn and the effects of his re-organisations. It was thought quite likely, by those who knew him, that Moltetch would go on to the even greater role of Divine Conductor at Jebbin City in due course and the sooner the better in the opinion of his immediate underlings.
The City Harmoniser was in good spirits when he arrived at Wheat Street with an entourage of acolytes from the Nephatar Prime Temple. He sensed he was on the cusp of an important political victory in an ongoing struggle with the Fisher King's council of mages. The scheme to restore fishing yields was a plan devised jointly by the Harmonic Order and advisors loyal to the Way of the Harmonic Path, but it had to be approved by the city council of mages and naturally they could not approve anything they hadn't meddled with. Their changes to the music and the spell architecture had been accepted over his own clearly voiced objections. When they failed, no one was secretly better pleased than the City Harmoniser. If he didn't actually say 'I told you so', the implication was obvious so that now the revised music and the associated arcane casting was very much according the plans of the Order. Of course he wouldn't be able to feel so smug if anything went wrong again today.

Kradovah studied the shabby interior of the Wheat Street temple with ill-disguised disapproval. He remembered his first visit only two days ago to give personal instructions to the old priestess who ran it and he remembered thinking even then, that this was exactly the kind of place that gave the Way of the Harmonic Path a bad name. It had once been a fine building but it was falling apart. More than likely the priestesses would be badly trained and musically inept. No wonder congregations were deserting these poorer suburban temples. Well, he thought, let's at least see if they have learned how to play this piece properly!
Hella had never seen Jodyth looking so timid and fearful. The first visit of the City Harmoniser on Velday had alarmed her and made her irritable, but it was an altogether different thing to have him come here with an entourage to test their playing before such an important event. Breakfast had been a tense and anxious meal, cooked this time by Gemulae whilst the widow was fetching water. The violinist managed to burn the fried fish for which she apologised with a rueful grin, professing that cooking wasn't one of her skills, something they already knew. None of them had an appetite anyway and Nyx and Myx didn't seem to mind the less charred remnants when Hella fed them tit bits from her fingers. Hella confessed that her throat felt terrible, something that had made Jodyth go pop-eyed for a brief moment and Gemulae's jaw dropped too. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea for Hella to take the vocal part when she was clearly still suffering the lingering effects of an infection. But there was nothing that could be done about it now. She would just have to do the best she could.
The temple hadn't been so full for a long time. They were accustomed to small congregations, usually fewer than ten people for the daily services, but the City Harmoniser came with a contingent of more than forty. They were drawn from the Prime Temple of Nephatar. The lead Dakday sextet were there in their entirety together with the full complement of their understudies. Two of the members of the celebrated Sunday Quartet were accompanied by a group of eight assorted juniors. A group of both senior and junior priestesses from the Principal Prime Choir (known as the PPC to those that worshiped in the Prime Temple) made up the rest of the numbers. Hella recognised several of them from their performance on Laque quayside where they had been in the group charming the school of skyfinners. The younger ones were whispering and giggling as they sat cross legged on the floor but their older teachers soon quelled them with stern looks from the sidelines.
It was an intimidating audience of their fellow professionals and the knowledge that they were all here to judge critically made Hella's heart race and she felt faint. A quick prayer to Lynodyth calmed her a little and then it was time to begin.
The performance was a disaster. There was no other way to describe it. It began reasonably but then at the first crucial key change they lost the rhythm for a stumbling three beats before Jodyth's desperate chord brought them back together. When it was Hella's time to sing, she could only manage a hoarse and soft imitation of the excellent vocals she had achieved in the practice sessions. The frown of the City Harmoniser was colder than the cooling pot and there was no need to look out at the awkwardly sympathetic or sternly judgemental audience to feel the tension rising.
When at last the ordeal was over the verdict came very quickly.
"The harpest and the violinist, we can work with," Moltetch said. "The vocalist is hopeless. She must not go."
"Please sir," a timid Jodyth offered in Hella's defence. "She's been ill. She can't help how it has affected her voice."
"I dare say, but that's not really my problem is it? We have to deliver this performance later today for the people of all the city. I can't afford any weak links."
He turned to study Hella more closely, realising there was something familiar about her.
"Aren't you the girl who went overboard?" he said. "Right at the point when the weave needed reinforcing?"
"Y... yes sir."
Hella was mortified. The shame of her musical failure was compounded by this admission that she had been the one to make such a spectacular exit at the moment the Vimday charm failed. She blushed bright red and for a moment the import of the Chief Harmoniser's next few cutting words did not sink in.
"We shall have to consider your long term future in the Order, young lady. You may have to leave us. But that is a question for later. For today, I'm going to assign Ravella here to pick up the vocal part and I'll also leave you with Juan. He'll oversee the three of you and make sure you get in some more much needed practice. Don't be late at the quayside!"
With that the entire group, with the exception of Ravella and Juan, swept out of the Wheat Street temple and on to their next appointment, leaving behind a devastated Hella and a shocked and subdued Jodyth and Gemulae.
When she thought about the rest of that morning afterwards, Hella mostly remembered the martial clapping of Juan, the sternly imposing music master forcing Jodyth and Gemulae through their parts again and again, with the sweet voiced Ravella fulfilling the role that should have been hers. Her mind was in turmoil. Was she really going to be rejected by the Harmonic Order? The Order was all she had ever known since childhood and she had tried so hard to live up to their expectations. What could she do if the City Harmoniser really rejected her?
The widow clucked in sympathy and brought Hella a hot drink of black cryne, honey and mint, a combination which soothed her throat but could not soothe her spirits. Even the friendly cats served only as a temporary distraction. What she really wanted to do was to go back to bed and try to sleep off the effects of the infection, but she was determined not to do that until the musicians had departed.
At last it was time for them to leave. The demanding Juan finally admitted that Jodyth, Gemulae and Ravella were a workable trio and they could go to sea.
"He didn't mean it," Jodyth said to Hella, but whilst the younger woman appreciated her superior's attempt to restore her confidence she felt certain that the City Harmoniser did in fact mean exactly what he said and wasn't the kind of man who would change his mind. Still, she smiled bravely and wished the whole trio good luck.
"Be careful Hel," Gemulae whispered as they hugged at the temple door. "I'm not sure about the widow. We don't really know who she is. And this thing about hair. She's weird! What if she's some nasty old witch with a book of nasty spells? That's what scared me when she asked for my hair. I just didn't want to give up anything so personal to someone so odd."
"Oh come on!" Hella said. "You know she's not like that! She's just a refugee from Soque, that's all."
"You're probably right, but be careful anyway, yes? And don't you worry, I'll look after Maris for you," she concluded with a cheeky wink as she broke away.
Hella promised that she would be careful and that she wouldn't worry but that was a lie. She remembered what her friend had said in jest the other day about stealing the fisherman and although she hardly had any claim to him at all, she felt strangely more worried about that than about any of Gemulae's warnings concerning the widow. It was completely ridiculous but there it was. Surely she wasn't jealous?

---

Peace had returned to the temple on Wheat Street after its frantic morning. There was just Hella, the widow, the cats, the silverfinches and the sunshine. The widow cast a sly sideways glance at Hella after the dust and the silence had settled.
"It wasn't my place to criticise when everyone was working so hard, but this whole fish charming plan is a waste of time."
"Why?" Hella asked listlessly. She honestly hardly cared at the moment.
"Because Findil has taken his fish away to deeper and cooler waters," the widow said. "The Nephatar fleet is fishing in the wrong places and the best charms in the world aren't going to fix that."
"Findil? I don't understand. It is Doloph now. The 7th of Doloph. What has Findil got to do with it?"
Hella felt slow and stupid.
"Not Findil the month," the widow replied with a tinge of exasperation. "Findil the Old God. The one for whom the month was named. One of the first Gods. The God of Fish. To think that in a city they call the City of Fish, there are none who honour his name anymore. No wonder he has taken his fish away!"
From somewhere inside her robes the widow extracted a scrap of fabric which the priestess now recognised; she'd not had a chance to look at it closely before. The old woman unfolded it on her lap and stretched it over her knee, studying it critically in silence. She gave a sigh of frustration as she pushed her fingers thoughtfully into the mesh and contemplated a rip close to one of the edges.
"Why is this hairnet so important to you?" Hella asked, her curiosity aroused despite herself.
"Well, it is a very old net for a start," the widow began carefully. "It's a family heirloom you might say. It's made from materials you can't get so easily these days. They are no ordinary fabrics. The threads are twisted skeins drawn from triple moonlight. The different colours of Lumina, Celestria and Triquetra are blended in the weave and the knots that hold it together are tied tightly with starlight. I've had it for a very long time. It was a present from my husband."
"What happened to it?"
"I'd rather not talk about that," the widow said. "It was most unfortunate. But I can say it isn't merely a hairnet. It has other uses if it could be repaired and ones that could help this city far more than this musical fish charming nonsense."
Now Hella really was intrigued. The old woman had shown them quite a range of skills in the short time she'd been a guest at the temple, from cooking to healing, to making great bargains in the market place and fixing the cooling pot. If she said this hairnet could be useful, Hella was inclined to believe her.
"And you need hair to repair it?"
"Yes. It's hard to explain but it's a temporal thing. It's what the resonance demands now to be in sympathy with the original design intent. It needs to be hair donated voluntarily and I can't use my own."
"So aren't you going to ask me?" Hella queried, since this was what she had been expecting, but to her surprise the widow looked shocked.
"Oh no! I don't mean to sound blunt, Hella," the widow said, "but your hair isn't really suitable. You see Jodyth's hair has the silver colour of Lumina and Gemulae has hair as golden as the sun. Their hair is thematically in tune with the net. But your hair... Your hair is honest Earthengrew hair, brown as the richest Myruthean soil and lovely in its own way, of course, but not for my celestial net..."
That was a bit too much for one day. Her precious flute at the bottom of the ocean, rejected from the temple trio's trip, threatened with rejection from the Harmonic Order, and now even the widow who she had started to think of as her friend didn't want her hair, whilst that hussy Gemulae went flaunting her golden locks in front of half the fishermen of Laque. Hella felt her throat close involuntarily in a way that triggered another deep ache in the infected tissue, but self-pity wasn't in her nature. She wasn't going to cry again!
"W... who are? Who are you really, though?" she challenged.
"Who am I? Who am I really? It's no great mystery, you only had to ask, but none of you did until now. Does this look more familiar?"
The world blurred momentarily in a way Hella put down to a side effect of her illness, and she blinked in feverish astonishment for she was now face to face with a much younger woman who seemed to have taken the widow's place.

Magicians' End - Hella and the Widow by DMFW with Midjourney

"No? I don't always choose to look so old."
"I don't know much about mages or witches. I'm sorry if I offended you," Hella said, for she was suddenly a little afraid.
"Mages? Mages! Pah! This isn't some parlour trick you know," and now the widow definitely sounded indignant. "Still, what can you expect in a city that doesn't seem to have heard of Findil! Did my dream cats not give you a massive clue?"
"Errmm...." Hella wracked her brains trying to recall what little she knew about the Old Gods. "Are you P... Pruth?"
"Pruth! Yes, Pruth! At last! And even if everyone else seems to think I'm no more than the name of the last month of the year, I'm here to tell you I'm not! And I want to help, except I can't seem to find anyone suitable to give me their hair."
Hella swallowed painfully, then in a low and diffident voice she offered up a suggestion.
"I don't know anything about arcane resonance and sympathetic seeds, really I don't and I'm sorry if I'm speaking out of turn," she began humbly, "but when you say you are seeking a repair that is thematically in tune with the net, well that is a musical idea, isn't it? I do know about music."
"Go on," the goddess said.
"Harmonious outcomes don't all arise from complementary notes. You've heard of counterpoint? If you can't find hair colours to match those in the sky, then perhaps you can set the colours of the sky against those of the earth, making the one contrast with the other. Is that not a divine harmony too? Does that not make good music and perhaps a working weave for your hairnet?"
The widow was silent for five whole beats and then her face shone with an enormous grin. "You know you're right Hella, you're absolutely right! Why did I not think of it? We can use your hair, Earthengrew girl. We can!"

---

To suggest the repair was not the same as to design it, and to offer hair was not the same as to give it, Hella realised as the afternoon wore on. The donation began with five carefully selected long clean cuts, which provided five long hanks of hair and left her with a very short crop exposing the nape of her neck and her ears, like a freshly sheared lamb.
Given the size of the net, the priestess couldn't imagine why any more of her hair would be needed but piece by piece it vanished into the structure of the net as the widow demonstrated patience, impressively fine motor control, sharp vision and arcane enchanting skills to thread and tie it between the unbroken segments, exactly where she wanted it to go.
The work took place on the floor of the main stage, where there was a large flat surface with good light coming in from the windows in the west wall, and as it proceeded Hella noticed something strange. Spread out over the stone, the hairnet began to look bigger than it first appeared. Then a LOT bigger. Even if the topology of the net was preserved (which was far from clear), there was some supernatural geometry at work beyond the limits of natural elasticity.
By late afternoon, Pruth's net covered the whole stage and was spilling out over the sides. She moved to another window, where she cast great lengths of mesh up into the upper corners of the temple building, using Nyx and Myx as helpers. The cats seemed to think that playing with the net was a game. They dabbed at the white drapes and they shot behind the temple pillars, chasing one another and sometimes vanishing into smoke to reappear up in the roof spaces. It all seemed outwardly chaotic and yet they never tore the fabric and they somehow served their mistress well for all their superficial disorder, spreading the net for her as she worked on it.

Magicians' End - Net of Pruth Repairs by DMFW with Leonardo AI

At last the goddess clapped her hands to bring her cats to heel and sat back. "It can unfold much more if I want it to," she said in answer to Hella's unspoken query, "but this is large enough for the level of detail the repairs require. There's no need to stretch it any further for now. It's almost finished. All the main ties are secured, but if you look closely here can you see these little knots that hold the secondary threads? Yes? We should weave more of your hair into each one of these all across the net."
"It's too short," Hella said, fingering what was left of her hair.
"It doesn't need to be long," the widow answered, perhaps deliberately misunderstanding Hella's real concern. "Come on, we will shave it all off and it will be just the length that is required!"
So they did. And later every scrap was carefully collected and cast into the net, where each tiny curl twisted and tied itself in position, guided by the spells of the goddess and the enchanted nature of the net itself which was now attuned to Hella's hair and incorporated it easily.
They had barely finished when they heard the other priestesses at the side door. In a twinkling, Pruth made a gesture that collapsed the net back to the size it had been at the start, looking once again like no more than a hairnet, which she pocketed with a smile. She changed back into the form of the old widow woman.
Hella was suddenly self conscious. She instinctively pulled a hood over her head to hide what had been done just as Jodyth and Gemulae came through from the refectory.
"How did it go?" she ventured.
"Not as well as we all hoped," the senior priestess grumbled. "Might be even worse than last time to be honest. Ravella sings alright but she never stops talking and she has such an annoying laugh. It would have been better with you."
"Ravella is just a little bit irritating," Gemulae confirmed. "But I don't suppose we can blame her for the fish charming failing. Nothing much in the nets at all, although Maris has still sent us a little something from the crab cages for our trouble. He was very disappointed that you weren't there", she added slyly. "He wanted to come round and see you today but Jodyth told him he couldn't."
"I don't want you disturbed when you're recovering," the old priestess said. "He's a nice enough young man and of course you must see him and thank him for rescuing you, but the temple is our home and a sanctuary for spiritual contemplation. He shouldn't come here uninvited when you're not feeling well."
That seemed a bit overprotective to Hella but Jodyth meant well enough, she was sure and there was something in what she said. That was the moment when Gemulae noticed Hella's missing hair. Of course she knew immediately what had happened to it and gave the widow a dirty look. "Good heavens!" she exclaimed, pulling back the hood on Hella's robe. "There's nothing left of it! You're completely bald. Just as well we didn't let Maris come here. You'll want to let that grow back before you see him."
"It won't grow back", the goddess said, addressing Hella. "Not on your head anyway. That's not how the repair works. It grows in the net now. It's an organic part of the structure. It draws directly from the roots of your follicles and binds ever more tightly with the threads of moon and starlight. You're going to be bald now. Always."
"Oh!" Hella hadn't anticipated that. She'd assumed her donation was just the hair that had been cut. Her shock must have been obvious.
"Perhaps I didn't explain that part very clearly," the goddess conceded, seeing Hella's reaction. "It's your fault really," she continued, perhaps a little defensively, addressing both Jodyth and Gemulae. "With a relatively short cut from either of you, the net would have been mended much more easily. You would have kept the rest of your hair. But it was only Hella who offered me hers, and with hers the net had to be repaired in a different style. A more complex one. Counterpoint. And I needed all her hair. Forever."
"That's outrageous!" Gemulae complained on her friend's behalf, but it didn't matter. The deed was done and nothing anyone said afterwards could change it. In any case, arguing with a goddess was going to be pointless, although Pruth did not seem inclined to reveal her identity to the others and Hella felt it wasn't her place to make the introduction when the widow appeared to prefer anonymity.
In the end it came down to Hella to calm the explosive indignation of Gemulae and the less vocal glares from Jodyth and restore the harmony of the temple.
"Let's not argue," she said firmly. "Not when this might be my last night at the temple. If I'm going to be evicted by the City Harmoniser in the morning, I'd like us all just to enjoy a peaceful evening and some good food. You know, I may have lost my hair but I think my voice is coming back and my appetite too. Didn't you say we have some crab? Anyone know any good recipes for crab?"
"Ah Findil's little sentries," the widow smiled. "If you'll all help me I can show you a very good way to cook them with a splash of lemon juice and some parsley, which I know you have in your larder because I bought it yesterday."

---

The late summer twilight had begun to fade into dusk by the time they finished their excellent meal. Jodyth uncorked a large bottle of five year old Greenwade Fields white wine. It was a rare treat but no one asked if there was some special occasion. The old priestess sensed they all needed it and they all enjoyed more than one glass. Already a few stars could be seen peeking through a pale blue evening sky. Hella yawned softly, putting the thoughts of whatever awaited tomorrow out of her head. She was ready for bed, but it was not to be.
"Now we must go to see your young man," the goddess said to her.
"Now?"
"Yes now. There is a high tide just after midnight and we mustn't miss it. No, you two can stay. Just Hella. Yes, yes... Come along!"
Somehow Hella found herself being shepherded out of the temple and along the North Bank road in the direction of the city centre, accompanied by the determined-looking goddess, who had changed again into the younger-looking version of her persona.
"This form will be more suitable for our next task", she observed. "Young men don't pay so much attention to old women. And naturally, I know your young man will pay attention to you! That goes without saying. We have some persuading to do now."
"He's not my young man!" Hella insisted, shaking her head.
"Oh, yes he is," the widow answered with flat certainty as they walked much more briskly than had been possible the last time Hella came down this road. In fact, she had to scurry to keep up.
"How can you say that?"
"You have remembered I am the goddess of sleep and dreams haven't you? Nyx and Myx carry messages for me from in and out of mortal dreams, and I had an interest in Maris when you told me about him, so naturally I told the cats to take a look. I don't want to ruin the surprise but let's just say that Gemulae isn't wrong when she tells you he's quite taken with you. And I know you like him."
Hella blushed bright red in the hot dark, although there was no one there to appreciate it. Pruth might be a goddess but she seemed to be quite an impertinent one, with no sense of propriety.
"What about my hair?" she couldn't help but ask rather timidly. "I know my hair wasn't as nice as Gemulae's or Jodyth's but I'm not used to being bald yet. What's Maris going to think?"
"What about your hair?" was all Pruth said abruptly. "There are more important things at stake here than your hair, Hella! Have you forgotten about the plight of the city?"
The priestess didn't have the courage to say that she didn't really understand what precisely that meant and what exactly they were going to do about it anyway. The goddess hadn't gone into details, so she kept silent and concentrated on keeping up.
"You worry too much," Pruth said at last with a kindly sigh as they stopped at the junction of Haltergarden Street and turned inland.
"Where are we going?" Hella asked. "Shouldn't we be heading for the quayside?"
"We won't find him there. Not tonight," Pruth replied. "Prince Maris will be in the palace. His name is Maris Lomas. He's the third son of the Fisher King. He's not just some ordinary fisherman, even if he likes to pretend he is."
"Oh!"
"Don't think too harshly of him. A little anonymity is a luxury sometimes for the sons of rulers. I understand that."
Hella hadn't been thinking too harshly of the fisherman at all, but she was now more than a little nervous, especially as they approached the palace precincts and came face to face with the guards.
"We have an important message for Prince Maris," Pruth announced imperiously to the dubious soldiers at the gate. "Tell him that the youngest priestess of Wheat Street is here to see him and that she brings something that will be for the benefit of the whole city."

---

The white light of Lumina and the reddish glow of Celestria were both shining brightly over the ocean when the Pride of Laque sailed into the rising night time tides. The faint sound of the first bell came over the water from the Gull's Clock Tower in distant Nephatar. In the end, Maris had taken surprisingly little persuasion to round up a crew and head out on this speculative voyage. If he'd been surprised to see Hella and the widow he'd hidden it very quickly, and whatever he thought about Hella's missing hair, he diplomatically said nothing, allowing her to bring the subject up first when she wanted to.
"Findil is protective of his fish under this hot sun," Pruth had told him. "He has taken them to deeper waters far from the coast. You will not find them there no matter how good the fish charming is. But there are other fish that come to the surface to feed at night. Do you know of them?"
"Only sprats, klapperfish and whelkeyes," Maris answered. "The mesh of our nets is too coarse for them. We pick up a few sometimes, more or less by accident, but they aren't worth our while."
"But what if you could catch them in larger numbers? What if I told you there was a way?"
So here they were, under the slow swell of the waves that were making Hella just a little seasick. She took deep breaths and felt calm return. She wasn't going to shame herself again!
"You must do this now," Pruth whispered to her. "Your hair is in the net and it belongs to you as much as to me. In fact it belongs to you completely now, because I am gifting it to you."
"I don't know what to do!" Hella whispered back in a mild panic. She'd been expecting Pruth to take the lead.
"It's easy," the goddess instructed her. "Easy for me because it has always been my net. Easy now for you, because it is your hair in the net. Not easy for anyone else."
Reaching into some pocket in her robes, Pruth passed the net to Hella. It was no bigger than a pocket handkerchief but it glowed faintly with a light of its own under the running lights on the ship. Maris gave them both a look that expressed doubt and perplexity but he still said nothing.
"There is a school of whelkeyes off the port side," Pruth said more loudly. "Cast the net overboard and imagine it growing to encompass them. Just do it!"

Magicians' End - Net of Pruth by DMFW with Midjourney

In the warm salty air, the net took flight like a living thing. Hella could feel its will to expand, the nodes in the mesh multiplying and lighting as its geometry was reconfigured and it spread rapidly, fluttering and twisting in the night. Soon it was gleaming brightly over the ocean. The net did not seem to need more than a nudge of thought as though it knew what to do. It sank suddenly and closed around the fish it had been sent to catch...

---

It was two days after the incredible success of the night-time fishing expedition and Hella was to return to the palace for a meeting with Maris, the Fisher King and the senior mages.
"I still can't believe I told a prince he couldn't come to the temple," Jodyth was saying. "And he listened to me, so that just goes to show I was right!"
"I'm sure you were," Hella mumbled.
The haul of welkeyes which went on sale in the markets might have been unusual but they were well received as they went to feed a hungry population and to stock cooling pots all around the city. For the moment there was no more talk of a third fish charming mission and nothing had come of Kradovah Moltetch's threat to eject Hella from the Harmonic Order. Instead there was a hiatus to allow new plans to be drawn and Hella and her net were going to be part of them.
Jodyth was looking the young priestess over critically. From a trunk somewhere in her quarters she'd found a combination knitwear and lace dress with a lacy hood that might have been fashionable back in the days of the Puzzle Lords Directorate but now looked more than a little old-fashioned. It smelled of the camphor and cedarwood that had been used to keep the moths away, but it certainly fitted Hella well.

Hella's New Clothes by DMFW with Midjourney

"Very nice. You can't keep going to the palace in the robes of the order. This is much more suitable. Lend Hella your mirror, Gemulae, so she can see how she looks!"
It was certainly different, the young priestess thought with a smile. She was still a little self-conscious about her baldness and the lace hood hid that, which was a bonus. She saw how anxious Jodyth was that she should like it. For certain it had once been a prized dress of her own.
"It's lovely," she said firmly. "And I'm so grateful that you let me wear it!" She hugged the old woman until they both had a little tear in their eyes, but that might have been the smell of camphor.
"Knock him out, Hel," Gemulae said with a cheeky wink. "And save the city whilst you're at it, eh? Just for the rest of us!"

---

The Polity Chamber in the royal palace wasn't the grandest of rooms, lacking the ornate sophistication and high sweeping arches of the Throne Room, the Great Ball Room and the Ambassador's Banqueting Hall but where those spaces were designed to impress and project the power and wealth of the Fisher Kings and Queens, the Polity Chamber was where the real business of government was conducted with less show and more thought than ceremony.
Since she was expected, Hella was waved through several guard posts before she reached the outer lobby where Maris was waiting to escort her into the Chamber itself. He gave her a warm smile.
"Don't be nervous," he advised. "My father and mother might be the king and queen but they are perfectly rational and they will want you to speak your mind. Before we go through, though, I have something for you. It's a sort of present. I wanted to give it to you earlier but then the occasion has never seemed right and I didn't want to take it out to sea the other night, so will you accept this now?"
He reached into an inside pocket and drew forth a silver flute, handing it to her and looking surprisingly nervous himself.
"I know it can never replace your favourite that sank to the bottom of the ocean," he said. "I was very sorry for that. I could rescue you, but I couldn't save your flute. I hope you like this one instead. I don't want you to be deprived of something so important for your music."
Hella's eyes were wide and shining. Perhaps it was just the reflection from the bright silvery surface but I rather think not. She felt uncharacteristically bold as she gave him a kiss of gratitude, which covered her rescue and this gift. Maris didn't object.
Before anything more could be said, the double doors swung back and they were admitted to the Polity Chamber where the king and queen, the first fish lord and the council of mages had already taken their seats. Hella wasn't surprised to see the City Harmoniser there too, but he no longer intimidated her the way he had done at their last meeting.
"Well young lady," King Nathaniel said, "it seems the city owes you a debt of gratitude for showing us how to catch fish again where my other advisors failed." He gave his mages and the City Harmoniser a pointed look. "But we still have a problem. It's not easy to adapt the fleet for this kind of night fishing. Can you help us? We need you to use your enchanted net to keep the fish markets in business and the city fed."
"Of course your majesty," Hella answered. "I understand. It's my duty."
"We can't rely on Hella forever though," Maris said reasonably. "There's only so much she can do!"
"That's true," the Queen said. "We need a better solution in the long term."
"Couldn't every boat catch these nocturnal fish if they had finer mesh nets?" Hella suggested.
"They could but no one has worked out how to make them strong enough."
"Well maybe we could learn from my net," Hella said. "Look."
She spread out a section of Pruth's net, expanding it sufficiently across the table so that everyone could examine it.
"Can you see that there are actually two structures? There is a wide mesh made up of these thicker fibres and then in between is the tiny mesh, split into units. The thinner threads only have to stretch between the holes in the main net which takes the strain off them. Could you make fishing nets in a similar way?"
There was a murmuring of interest as this was considered with some additional suggestions for ways it might be enhanced by enchantments, nothing that would be anything like as spectacular as the net of Pruth with its almost sentient behaviour and geometric warping, but perhaps something that would help in the weaving of simpler alternatives. When the meeting broke up it was agreed that the chandlers guild, the linen spinners guild and the lace makers guild would be consulted to see what they could come up with together. It was a positive outcome. Until the new nets were ready to deploy, Hella agreed to go night fishing as often as she could.

---

"Would you mind if I came along too?" the widow asked three nights later as Hella yawned and prepared for another fishing mission. The young priestess hadn't quite adjusted to these nightshifts, sleeping in the day and waking in the early evening to share a meal with Jodyth and Gemulae before they went to bed. But there had been two successful expeditions returning enough tasty klapperfish to supplement the city food supplies and hold famine at bay.
Hella's newfound importance to the stability and happiness of the city could not be doubted. Maris was keeping the same hours and he had offered to accompany her for as long as she wanted, which at least so far, was on every voyage. Next week, if they could both stay awake long enough, the prince had promised to take her to the workshops where the new nets were being created and Hella was excited to see what progress had been made and what problems the weavers were encountering. They were keen to study her special net again for inspiration.
Then too, Hella wanted to spend some time practicing in private with her new flute. She was working on a composition of her own and couldn't wait to play it for Maris when it was ready. She was so busy thinking about the duties and pleasures ahead of her, that for a minute she missed the import of the widow's words.
"I have a little favour to ask of the prince. I want him to take me to the island of Zurle, if he would be so good as to oblige me, for I am afraid I must be going."
There was an intake of breath and a murmur of consternation, because the priestesses were surprised how much they had come to rely on the widow, if for nothing else other than her cooking and her organising skills in the temple.
"I didn't come here just to save the city," Pruth said when Gemulae observed that matters weren't yet settled. "You'll be fine without me now. Hella has the net and Maris has a sound head on his shoulders. They've come up with a good plan and I'm sure it will succeed with the energy, intelligence and hard work they are both willing and able to supply. It must be exhausting to be so young. Not that I can remember it! But as for me, I have some business to attend to with some old colleagues I haven't seen in a long time. We need to get together and see if we can get that husband of mine out of the mess he seems to be in, trying to fix this problem with the sun."
"I thought you were a widow?" Hella blurted.
"Yes. I did allow you all to think that didn't I? Although no-one ever asked me outright. The truth is that I may be. I don't know. I haven't seen my husband for a long time, and I fear that even if I am not really a widow, my husband now needs to be rescued. For that I'm going to require a lot of help. Findil's help will be a start. I've done enough here to attract his attention, so I want to see what the old rogue has to say for himself. Then we'll round up the others. It's Old God business but if we succeed we can end this drought."
Naturally, when Maris heard what Pruth wanted, he wasn't going to refuse although he begged leave to fish again first with Hella, which his passenger agreed to easily enough with an airy wave. Once they'd fulfilled their immediate duties to the city and unloaded enough of a catch to keep the markets stocked, he sent a message to the palace that they would be gone for three days, it being a somewhat longer voyage, there and back, than they were accustomed to making.
"We'll fish again on the return journey," he said to Hella.
And so the Pride of Laque took the goddess to the island of Zurle just as she had asked. Hella was getting so accustomed to the motion of the waves that instead of feeling sick it actually lulled her to sleep and she fell into an exhausted slumber as the vessel took them out to sea. To everyone's surprise and pleasure, it rained in the early dawn light when they were close to the hilly western shores of the island and Hella was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"So Mald hasn't entirely forgotten how to do her duty," Pruth said, seeming well pleased. "It's difficult for her but I know she does her best."
There was a natural harbour in a narrow inlet which Maris knew well when Pruth had described where she wished to disembark, and although the rain stopped before they reached it, there was still a pleasing and unusual humidity in the air. Maris rowed Hella and the widow to the beach and there Hella said her final goodbyes to the goddess, whilst the prince looked to see if he could find fresh water, which was always a bonus when it was available.
"I have given my net to you," Pruth said to Hella when Maris was out of hearing. "Not to the Fisher King, not to your prince and not to the city but to you. You gave me your hair freely and because of your hair, the net will answer to you and to your children and your children's children for as long as you have heirs."
"Maris is a nice, kind man and he wants the best for you but don't let him take the net for granted. Or you. You're just a little too trusting Hella. That's all I'm saying."
"You mean too trusting, as in the way I let an Old God trick me out of giving her my once and future hair?" Hella said with a smile.
"Exactly!" Pruth cackled in agreement. "Far too trusting. Don't do that again. Unless it's me, of course." They shared a final hug and then the widow hobbled off into the forest of dwarf sea oaks that rose into the hills, and Hella never saw her again.

---

It is doubtful if the little temple on Wheat Street had ever seen such an occasion as the one where Maris and Hella got married. They chose the first day of the month of Pruth, at the end of the year, which seemed a most propitious date given the role that the goddess herself had unexpectedly played in their lives.
To Hella's great delight, sister Erin and sister Stephanie came from the Earthengrew temple after Jodyth wrote in secret that their former ward was to be wed. She was so pleased to see them and she was caught completely by surprise when they gifted her with a small sum of money they'd apparently been putting aside for her for years, although they'd never mentioned it.
"We thought you might need it for something important," Erin said. "However, now that you are marrying a prince, I'm sure you'll have everything you want, except perhaps, there is one thing you won't want him to buy for you..."
"She means your wedding gown," Stephanie said. "It's bad luck for a bride to ask her groom to fund that and you are going to need a good one. So can we help you choose it?"
"Oh go on, yes," Hella laughed, and laughed even harder when she saw how Erin clapped her hands gleefully. They got a good deal from the dress and lacemakers, who recognised Hella as the agent who had put so much good work their way in the construction of the new fishing nets which were now working so well that Hella hardly ever needed to go fishing herself anymore. Fittingly, the Net of Pruth doubled up as an excellent bridal veil, white, flowing and always conforming to the thoughts of its owner.
Jodyth and Gemulae conducted the service between them, the old priestess beaming with joy, and even Zane Pilder made himself welcome at the reception with trays of the most excellent pastries. It was more than a rumour that Gemulae would be married herself soon enough to the blacksmith's son and Hella made a promise to herself that she would do everything in her power to see that Jodyth got some nice steady replacements for the both of them to help her with the temple work in future. Probably not Ravella, with her irritating ways, but there were other young ladies who would welcome a promotion and would be more suitable. And of course she would visit both of her old friends regularly, that was for certain. The temple at Wheat Street would always have a special place in her heart.
There was only one moment when Hella felt just a little sad in the ceremony, looking at the bride's side of the congregation to see that only Erin and Stephanie were there to support her, whilst the prince had so many relatives and friends to wish him happiness. Then out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a large black cat which trod confidently down the central aisle to claim her attention.
"Hello Nyx!" she said.

The marriage of Hella and Maris by DMFW with Leonardo AI

---

Postscript

Now this little story has ended but the reader who perhaps has only a passing knowledge of the subsequent history of Nephatar may be a little confused, for this tale has stated that Maris was only the third son of King Lomas and yet it is well known that the Net of Pruth is an heirloom of the current line of the Fisher Kings and Queens. How so?
That, I am afraid, is a sad coda to our story, for third sons can become first sons in ways that no one expects or desires. Less than five years after the wedding of Maris and Hella, Panath Lomas, the eldest son of King Nathaniel and Queen Verity Lomas was killed in a hunting accident, newly married himself but still childless. Only three years later, Maris lost his other brother, Karth, when he fell to his death in a climbing accident, leaving no heir behind him.
Thus it came to pass by the strange rules of fate, that eighteen years after our story ends when King Nathaniel died from a wasting disease, it was Maris who ascended to the throne of the Fisher King, a role he had never expected nor wanted to hold. As King Maris II, his wife was elevated into the lines of Fisher Queens. And that is how Hella, a simple Earthengrew orphan joined a famous lineage, a lineage which she gifted with the Net of Pruth via her son who in due course became King Wintham I.