Tales of the Seeress: World of Olith

By Patrick S. Smith

The Seeress.  The stories about her are countless.  Who she is and where she comes from is shrouded in mystery.  People say she is the harbinger of good tidings or calamity, The Sage of Elhrub debate about her, the Sutlanders call her "The Demon Witch," while the Aranians and elves only have one word for her:  friend.

 

What is known as fact is that the Seeress and her daughters have been influencing Olith for centuries.

 

• A Dissertation on the Seeress - A study on the legends of the Seeress.
• Of Farmer And Cow - A simple farmer must decide which cow to keep
• Dear Fate, Why Must I Choose - Even with all the power of the Seeress, some things can not be avoided. 
• The Witch Versus The Daughter - A stand off between an invading witch and the Seeress's daughter.
• The Monster With a Human Heart - Can the beast find what it is searching for?
• The Lost Children - Without guidance, can children find their way?
• The Story Teller's Tale - A renown story teller reveals her secret.
• Home Find the Charlatan - Sometimes, what someone seeks finds them.
• My Meeting the Seeress - The Seeress befriends a banished aelf.
• The Fall of the Village of Duhan - The Seeress attempts to ward off calamity.
• Son of the Seeress - A young prophet encounters the Seeress.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patrick S. Smith
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201946050

Patrick S. Smith

Patrick S. Smith lives in Columbus, Ga with his wife and daughters.  He is a 20 year veteran of the U.S. Air Force Reserves.  He enjoys knitting, playing video games, and  watching a variety of sports. He has been writing off and on for 35 years.  Now he is using his imagination to bring forth his wonderful new world and people.

Book preview

Preface

First off, I wish to thank you for reading my book.  In doing so, you have made me a success.  Not a success in terms that I’m quitting my day job and retiring to some cabin in the woods, never to have to work again.  Rather, a success in that I could write something that interested you enough to read.  More so if you are reading the forward, because who reads prefaces?

You only fail when you do not try.  Something I have said to my daughters many times to get them to try new things.  But as a father, you have to set the example.

I have thought about writing for 30+ years, but never tried.  Partly, it was not knowing the full process and options available to me.

What truly started me thinking about trying to write was a project I had to do in high school.  I had to either do a short story of 5 typed pages or 10 poems.  Like a good number of high school students where English was not their strong suit, I waited pretty much to the last minute to do a short story.  I mean, how hard could it be?

As luck would have it, at 10pm the night before the assignment was due, the computer crashed.  I had not saved my work and there were no hard copies or notes.  All my work was gone.  I wrote 10 poems in desperation, and to my surprise, I got my only ‘A’ that year in English.

Everyone who read them thought they were good, and this praise led me to write another one to be submitted to the school journal.  Unfortunately, this one didn’t make it past the review process.  I chalked it up to sheer numbers.  There were 2300 students in my school (800 to 900 were in my graduating class), but only 20 or 30 pages in the journal.  The most discouraging part was no feedback on why I didn’t make it.

So for the most part, I put my pen down for 30+ years.  Not that I didn’t have ideas or the desire to write, I didn’t know how to go about getting published, and I had no desire to learn how to.

Then one day in December 2020, I discovered how I could do e-publishing.  I could do it on my own, and through an array of channels.  As a bonus, I found it did not limit me to prose, which I had always thought all e-publishing was good for.

Outside of my poetry, I didn’t have any complete work.  I had several half-formed ideas and false starts, and nothing seemed interesting enough to finish.

Still, I looked at some things I had, trying to figure out a structure to a novel or series of novels, when a new idea struck me.  I would write short stories.  They seemed much simpler to write and didn’t require a large overreaching arch.

I searched through my drafts and notes and came across two characters that just stood out.  The first was a scribe and sage who reportedly lived for centuries.  In reality, it was a series of people who wrote under that name.  What a better way to chronicle the events of what was to go on in the world I was creating?  So, with a few more refinements, the Sage of Elhrub was founded.  Think of the in terms of the Library of Alexander with a communication of scribes, sages, and messengers to connect to other great libraries.

Next was a prophetess I dreamt up for an attempted idea for a novel that went nowhere.  I had a few random, disjointed notes for a side story for her, but something drew me into her.  It might be that in my notes, I toyed with the idea that she had been around for centuries.

I remember reading Michael Moorcock when I was younger and his concept of the Eternal Champion, so I revised her so that even though she hadn’t lived for centuries, her powers had.  It was these powers that were passed from mother to daughter.  Thus, the Seeress was born.  I revised her more so that neither she nor her daughters ever had children of their own.  Rather, girls were born with prophetic powers and the Seeress would take these girls and train them so one could succeed her.

I will admit that J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion, with its collection of stories of the first 2 ages of Middle Earth, served as inspiration for me.  It served as a backdrop for the events in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings by providing Middle Earth’s history.

Some other works that inspired me were Sherlock Holmes and the anthology series Thieves World.  Both were series of short stories that were continuing adventures of the same characters.  These gave me at least the hope I was on the right track this time. With the benefit, I didn’t have to keep coming up with new characters if I wanted to write short stories.

Now I began writing in earnest and in February 2021 I completed The Lost Children, after a couple false starts and a slight derailment.  I gave a copy to my wife to proofread and critique.  Though not a huge fantasy fan, she liked what I wrote and had several questions, both about some of the background to the world and the characters.

The more I wrote, the more the Seeress continued to grow and develop.  She was no longer just an all-powerful oracle where nations hung on her very word.  I tried to make her a bit more human and approachable.  Someone who knew the power she wielded and could be very subtle in changing the course of events.  I made her part myth, someone who could blend in with the crowd and unless she said something directly to you, you would pay her little heed.  And to a good degree, I made her and her daughters a little sad and lonely.

My wife continued to serve as my editor, proofreading my work.  Some she liked better than others.  She does not care for my mixing of the terms ‘elf’ and ‘aelf’, but acknowledges that is my prerogative as the author.  Her greatest compliment (and criticism) came in My Meeting the Seeress, where she wanted more interaction between characters.  She wanted to know more of what transpired in the ten years of the friendship between Wisteria and Athel.  At least I left myself a couple of threads there to go back and pick up for more stories.

And I finally took the plunge about my poetry.  I started self-publishing in August 2021, with my big day coming at the end of the month.  Not only did I get published in an online publication, someone actually commented on my work.  This was huge as I got past the dreaded editor’s desk and someone actually took the TIME to say something about my work.  This has helped fuel my desire to write.

In October, I resolved to hit the ‘Submit’ button to publish my first short story, The Farmer, which was retitiled Of Farm and Cow for this anthology.  Though not the success I had hoped for, there were a few people out in the world who liked it.  I followed up The Farmer with a few others over the course of the next few weeks.

Where I go from here, I don’t know.  I’ve enjoyed writing in all its forms and I’ve found it a strange, appealing mix of stress and reward.

So, kind reader, let us step into the world of Olith, the realm of the Seeress.  If you wish to know more about me, my writing or the world of Olith, you can find me online at https://patrickssmithauthor.wordpress.com/ or e-mail me at [e-mail].

A Dissertation on the Seeress

As presented by Mistress Aiode in the year 722.

The lands of Iliapin are ripe with many tales and fanciful stories of gods and heroes.  Most are regional, tied to a particular group of people or area.  Though Aelven tales, such as the one of Willow, are known throughout their kind.  Yet those tales concerning the Seeress seem to be known all throughout all of Iliapin.

Like the varied people of Iliapin, so the myths of the Seeress vary.  They may describe her as young or old, alone or in the company of young girls, a bringer of good tidings or bad omens.  There is little in the way of commonality among these tales of her.

What is interesting about her is that it seems as if there is no part of Iliapin that does not have at least one story about her.  In addition, when trying to date these stories, rarely does it seem that two ever overlap.  If they do, there is a question about the exact dates, as the tellers of these tales rarely concern themselves with that detail.

Because of the number of stories about the Seeress, and the apparent sequence of these stories, I can only conclude that the Seeress, in fact, exists, even if she is nothing more than a construct of fancy.  A thread woven throughout the fabric of Iliapin...

***

... The earliest mention of the Seeress is from around the year 250, where a foreign woman of white skin and hair of fire visited several small villages northwest of the Kingdom of Flaoya.  There she warned of a drought and famine in the coming years and to make preparations for it.  Some people heeded her warnings and made preparations, while others did not.  When the drought came, some people were prepared, and thus the devastation was not as bad as it could have been.

There are other stories, however, that pre-date this one that mention a woman claiming to predict the future.  These stories seem to date some 50 years prior and appear around Toba, Jun’kar, and other areas near the Forest of Aran.  They speak of a raven haired woman advising people on courses of action to better their lives....

... However, not all tales of the Seeress are of her being benevolent.  Some tales talk of her bringing woe with her, such as the now nearly forgotten hamlet of Duhan...

***

... Can this be the same woman?  Only the uneducated, those who take superstition as fact, would say it is. More likely explanations would be that this is a series of women from some, yet unknown, order, or women who are building on and using the stories of the Seeress.  In the former, how are new members chosen?  If the latter, for what reason and to what end?

If this is some order, the answer may lie in the stories of the Seeress manifesting herself when some girls are born and claiming them....

... It is reasonable to conclude that since these girls appear to be raised by the Seeress, that they succeed her in some fashion.  Perhaps similar to how the title of Inbul passes from one sage to the next within our order of The Sage of Elhrub...

***

... As previously mentioned, some tales around the Seeress tell of her claiming baby girls born to other women as her own. But what becomes of these girls?  There are tales of girls claiming to be the daughter of the Seeress, but they depict these girls as being either in their teens or early adulthood at the oldest...

.... The questions about her still abound.  Who, or what, is she exactly?  Where does she come from?  What is her goal?  What causes her to manifest?  Why do Aranians and aelves hold her in high regard? Why do they seem so guarded about discussing her? It is as if protecting some secret....

Of Farmer and Cow

...As evidence implies that the Seeress, knowing the hearts of people, only announces herself as the Seeress to give weight to her proclamations or counsel. This has given rise to speculation that she often passes unknown among people and helps others without them knowing she was there...

—Mistress Aiode, Sage of Elhrub

Year 722

A woman stopped her wagon near the farmhouse.  The wagon was a simple affair, not much more than a common box wagon with a shelter added to it.  A pair of mules who didn’t seem to care pulled it.

The woman climbed down from the wagon and made straight for the farmer, who was preparing to milk his two cows.

Excuse me, good sir.  Could I trouble you for a skin of milk for my baby niece?  She’s orphaned and I am all she has in this world.  I have coin so I can pay.

You can keep your money.  I’d never hear the end of it from my wife if I took your money so you could feed your niece.  Now if you had enough coin, I’d sell you that scrawny cow over there.  She’s bound for market next week.

The woman looked at the 2 cows for a second before saying, Thank you, sir. I know little about keeping cows, but I would think about selling the bigger one.  She has an air about her. She harasses the other one and won’t let her be.  I think if you separated them, the smaller one might do better.

I appreciate the try at some advice.  Just sometimes, cows don’t turn out as fit as we’d like.  Do you have a skin handy?  Cause it is time I get to milking them.

The woman handed him an empty skin she’d been carrying on her shoulder.  The farmer soon got work filling his bucket.  His practiced hands filled his bucket to a level where he could fill the skin. After filling the skin, he tied it closed and handed it back to the woman.

Thank you again.  Hopefully, this will last until I can return home and find my goats, the woman said with a smile and a slight bow.

You may want to hurry, then.  That milk may not be fit by evening, the farmer warned as the woman climbed up into her wagon.  She waved goodbye as she set the mules off again.

Not long after she left, a little girl of about 5 came out of the wagon and sat down beside the woman and asked, Mommy, why did you lie to the man?  The milk is for my sister.

Yes, the milk is for your sister, but I lied to protect us.  Had I told the man it was for my daughters, he could have had questions about why I needed the milk.  It is not good for a woman to have a child and have no husband, the woman explained.

But you have no husband and have me and sissy.

The Aranians have children but no husbands, and you have heard the mean things some people say about them.

Oh.  But why did you not tell the man to sell the fat cow so the skinny one could get bigger and provide him with many calves?

The woman smiled at this as she said, Again, to protect us.  To tell him which cow to sell and why may have made him guess at who we are.  Who I am. He may have expected us to make decisions for him.  By telling him what he might do and a little of the why, he now must make his own choice.

But what if he keeps the fat cow? the girl asked.

Then he keeps it and will be hard pressed to have more than 3 cows while that one lives.  Now, go back inside and check on your sister and practice what I have taught you to shape your mind.

Throwing her arms around her mother, the girl said, Yes, mommy.

***

A couple of decades later, a woman traveling on foot approached the farmhouse.  It was nearing evening and the sky should be red, but it was black with the coming storm.  She could see the clouds in the distance illuminate with flashes of lightning.  The woman could hear some cows in the barn protesting the coming storm.

The woman approached the farmhouse and knocked on the door.  The farmer’s wife answered it.  May I help you? she asked as she examined the stranger who had knocked.

Yes.  There is a storm coming, and I wanted to ask if I could spend the night in your barn? the traveler replied.

The farmer’s wife looked at her peculiarly before saying, By the look of you, I’d say you’re a northern person.  What brings you here?

Yes, my parents were desert people, but they gave me to the Aranians.  I presume because my father wanted a son and not a daughter.  I’ve been traveling to find what this world wants of me.

Well, you don’t have to sleep in the barn tonight.  We have an extra bed you can use for the night.

Thank you, but I would prefer the barn.  I’ve spent so much time sleeping in tents and under the stars, a proper bed and roof bothers my mind.  And those fine sounding cows I think would be soothing on a night like this.  How did you come about them?

It’s a bit queer.  Many years ago, we had 2 cows and one was sickly, which we were going to sell.  For some strange reason, my husband kept her and sold the good one.  It didn’t take long for the sickly one to fatten up.  She produced several fine calves who have, in turn, provided more.  The twenty or so head we have now are all from her or her offspring. If you had seen that cow in the beginning, you’d never believe me, the woman said.

But if you prefer the barn, so be it.  I’ll let my husband know so he won’t wake you.

Don’t worry about waking me.  If he does, then it means I should have already gotten up.

Fine then.  If you need anything, just knock.

Thank you, I will, the traveler said.

Well mother, thanks to you, it appears they chose well, she thought to herself as she headed to the barn to sleep.

Dear Fate, Why Must I Choose

... When one tries to distill facts from grandeur in stories of the Seeress, a startling revelation starts to become clear: Not all instances have a good choice...

... One then must wonder what evils the Seeress must have to choose at times...

—Mistress Aiode, Sage of Elhrub

Year 722

Mother, why did you tell that blacksmith where he could find his wife? You know he will beat her again, 10-year-old Hani asked her mother. Her eyes sparkling and piercing in the light of their small campfire.

Sarior sighed at the question. Before she could explain, her oldest daughter, Merthe, spoke in slightly more than a whisper. Why must you always question our mother? The woman was his wife, so mother helped him find her, and keep your voice down, Dorine just fell asleep.

A slight scowl came across Sarior’s face at Merthe’s response to her sister. Merthe, your sister asked a question to learn and understand why I did what I did. It would serve you to open your eyes, ears and your mind so you may learn the full truth of the world and your powers.

Sarior sighed again and began rocking the little girl she had been cradling in her arms. Yes, Hani, the man will beat his wife again. Did you try to discover what her fate was if I had not revealed to the blacksmith where he could locate his wife?

No, came the sheepish reply from Hani. She lowered her head as her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

If I hadn’t explained to the blacksmith where his wife hid, other cruel men would have discovered her. Ones worse than him. They would have taken money from other men so they could use her as they liked.

Hani and Merthe both looked at the fire’s embers after hearing what their mother had told them. Why do I not see that, mother? I see the man beating his wife, then I see him lying in bed with a fever, Merthe said. She leaned slightly forward, looking for some missing detail.

It is because the threads are now woven and other fates no longer exist. Had you looked at his wife when we met the man, you would have seen a different fate for her. A worse fate as strangers would have beat her worse than her husband does. And her sons would have become slaves while they would force her daughters to serve men as she did. Sarior adjusted the blanket that wrapped around Dorine.

Suddenly, Hani’s face lit up. I think I see the blacksmith dying and the woman finding a new husband. One who treats her better. But it is shadowed and I can’t see it well. Can you mother?

You see a possibility for her, Sarior said, her lips drawing out to a slight smile. Yes, the blacksmith will die of fever. As for his wife finding a new husband, that is in question. Certain events must come together for that to happen. Things not involving her or her husband.

Hani again stared at the embers, as if studying something. I can’t sense a way we for us to help her have this new husband.

The path may not exist yet, or it is not within our power to influence directly. That is the shadow you sense over it, Sarior explained, brushing the hair out of the face of the girl she held. Don’t dwell on the matter, as I have already touched Fate’s hand enough.

Could we take action upon the men who desire to make women harlots? Merthe now asked, clenching her fists.

People, Sarior said, shaking her head. The people who wished to turn her into a harlot. There were women who would have also helped make her a harlot. Sadly, we have done all we can for now. If we try to do more, we would earn enemies that would pursue us and we could not help others.

Hani’s eyes began to water and tear up at her mother’s explanation. But what good is us knowing if we can’t help? It is like Fate is being mean to us.

Closing her eyes and pursing her lips slightly, Sarior said, "Our sight allows us to help. It is imperative you girls learn