Dawn and the villagers of Elden began their annual pilgrimage. Rowan mounted his horse and joined the group heading for the high ground.
He rode alongside Ivy, a spirited girl from the valley. Her mount matched his pace along the well-trodden path. “The rain has eased—at least.”
“See that over there?” Rowan pointed towards a clearing where the remnants of an old house lay scattered. “My father tore it down. Said it spoiled the view.”
Ivy squinted at the pile of stones and slate. “Seems a shame to lose a home.“
Rowan shrugged. “His way. The land always came first.“
Their route wound down through the valley.
Heather and Thyme, two sisters known for herbal remedies, joined them on foot. They wore purple, like their namesakes’ flowers. The third sister, Sage, a quiet soul with a love for the soil, fell into step beside them, dressed in a pale green cloak. She carried a staff and gestured to Rowan. “The path we walk is dry now. In the past, a river ran here. Downriver, the Clan Fergus in olden times harnessed its flow for a mill.”
Rowan grasped her implication. He understood how his family shaped the valley and hills around them. “Grandfather’s dam does much, but it’s changed the countryside.”
A weathered gate and a makeshift stile led to the meadowland. Ivy paused, the open field stretching before them; the distant stone circle stood tall against the horizon.
Heather pointed to the stones. “They have witnessed countless seasons.”
Thyme also gestured there. “This is where our journey finds its purpose.”
A deep rumble echoed through the valley, drawing their attention to the dammed river upstream. “That doesn’t sound good,“ Rowan muttered. The old dam groaned under the weight of water.
Ivy frowned. “The rains have been heavy this spring.”
A figure emerged from the trees. “You won’t find what you’re seeking today, Elden folk. For too long you have prospered by taking what is ours.”
Rowan’s brow furrowed. “How dare you! Fergus son of Bane—this place is a sacred space of unity. It’s not the time to bring up old conflicts.“
Fergus frowned. “Old for you, for us a mill crumbles, no stream to drive the wheel. Your grandfather’s dam is done. Water shall be your judge.“
Rowan stiffened in his saddle. “Yours received coin, and agreed that price for the river.”
Fergus shook his fist. “That does not help me, and mine. Opening the sluices, now that will!”
“That’ll flood the meadow.“ Thyme looked to Rowan.
Heather held a hand to her mouth. “Destroy the market—and the stones.“
“We can’t let him unseat them,“ Sage said.
Rowan nodded. “At our forefathers’ temple, we’ll stand our ground. Bring everything inside. Elden’s unity is stronger than Fergus’s spite.“
As they hurried across the stile, the dam’s gates creaked open, sending water rushing towards the lower valley. The group reached the stone circle in time. The adults formed a human chain, their linked hands a testament to their resolve. From the youngest to the oldest among them, all gathered within the ring.
The flood swelled around them, but they remained firm. A different wave burst from the monoliths, energy repelling the surge. The waters parted and receded.
In the aftermath, Rowan spoke up. “Today, we stood against more than water. Choices made in the past threatened our future. Yet, our faith, our shared purpose, have found a way.” He gestured to the ancient pillars. “These stones have borne witness to countless generations of Elden folk who’ve toiled, celebrated and endured together, as we have this day. Let Fergus’s spite be damned. As long as we stand united under God, bitterness can’t diminish our spirit.“ The villagers cheered with one voice as the silent guardians of stone witnessed all.
Another good one! I'm glad they won.