What Fate Does Not Know

Åsa sat at the edge of a large stone, a portion of it overlooking the icy, clear blue water below. Centuries ago this volcanic mound had formed during the last eruption and had created this beautiful pedestal, dangling above the abyss below. This had always been a place of protection for her, where her mind could wander, and thoughts process. A hidden bay at the base of a glacier, not many longed to hike this close to the mountains when the weather changed.

Yet here she sat, wrapped in a sheepskin shawl in the middle of winter. This season was often the most trying time of the year, where not only did the elements fight to test life on Earth, but experiences during this period carried an abundance of weight as well.

Recently the girl had faced a series of trials and tribulations from the autumn season; from poor harvests to losing livestock in foreign raids, the seasons had been unkind to the tall blonde. Yet here she sat, wondering what was bound to occur next. As her people have said for years, events of misfortune happen in threes. Thus with still a few months to go in this harsh winter, one more disruption was bound to happen.

Her green eyes drifted to the depths of the water below, and she blinked- startled from a sudden shadow beneath the blue surface.Perhaps it was a large fish, scavenging for a meal, or even a seal, too far from home. As her eyes adjusted to the speed of the moving shape, it began to protract through the water, as if rising from the depths of the bay towards her.

Åsa stood quickly, grabbing the iron dagger from her leather belt, readying for whatever was about to break the water’s surface. As she grasped the blade tightly, her knuckles began to turn white, preparing for a frontal attack.

Yet as she heard the sound of splashing, nothing came springing from the half-frozen lake. She stood for a moment, tense, waiting for the smallest of sounds to prove that something might in fact be awaiting her below the rocky crag she had been sitting on moments ago. She stood as if a tree, rooted into the ground, unwilling to move. After a minute, she lowered the blade, and released a sigh, trying to normalize her breathing once more.

Just a fish, she thought, cautiously moving towards the overlook once more. This year had ruined the girl’s confidence, leaving her jumping to the slightest of noises. Her father would have been disappointed had he been alive to see her, but he had died in a war five years ago, when the village was leveled by invaders to the East.

As Åsa peered into the water, a wooden chest was floating on the surface, gently nudging the rocky alcove as ripples pushed the box to the base of where she stood.

With curiosity getting the better of her, the girl set the dagger down, and crouched lower to inspect the mystery before her. Though plain in nature, black latches could be seen on one side, acting as a hinge for the wooden chest. A rusted lock dangled from the portion closest to her, where a hole was evident for a key to open the box.

With both hands, the girl hoisted the chest from the lake, water spilling from open cracks as it moved again gravity towards the shore. A few barnacles had settled on the old metal, proving that this object had been in the water for some time. As the water continued to seep from the sides, Åsa set it down watching it as if something was going to spring forward from the box.

Never before had she found such a unique item, and in the most strangest of ways at that. Looking to her right, she picked up her dagger once more, and placed the tip of the blade into the rusty lock, attempting to trigger the mechanism within it.

After a few moments of failure, she snatched a rock, and began hitting the pommel of her dagger trying to break the lock with force at this point. Patience had never been one of her gifts, so force and strength were typically her goto mechanisms for handling most situations.

After a few steady hits, the rust covered lock broke, falling to the ground with a loud clank. Moving her tools aside, Åsa ran a hand through her wind blown hair, slightly nervous for what may be hidden in the chest before her.

As she lifted the lid, pushing the top away from her, the chest creaked, as if releasing a sign after having been so tightly closed for years.

Peering into the waterlogged wooden structure, a single coin lay in the chest, gold in nature. As she picked the token up, further inspection revealed a head engraved on the piece, with words surrounding the portrait that she did not recognize. She turned the coin over in her hand, suprised by its weight, comparable to a small potatoe during the last harvest.

More carvings of the same language were written on the lid of the chest, but were even more faded than the coin due to deterioration.

Looks foreign, but what is it? Åsa looked up at the sky, seeing a bolt of lightening flicker across the clouds, followed by a thunderous roar soon after. Whatever she had found would have to wait until another time. A large storm was approaching from the Southwest, and heading towards her direction. She hadn’t noticed the looming clouds due to the trance the new treasure had held on her.

Standing, the girl tucked the engraved piece into a leather throng around her neck, and bolted from the bay’s shoreline. The rain had begun to pour, making it difficult for Åsa to see much of the ground in front of her. She ran, hoping to make it home not entirely drenched, using her shawl as a makeshift cover, though it did little at this point in keeping her dry.

As she ran from the shore though, the box remained opened where she had left it, the lid still facing the sky. What little light had remained was swallowed by the storm above, covering the surrounding terrain in a wave of shadow.

A powerful wind arose, causing the nearby shrubs to sway back and forth, attempting to stay rooted in the ground. Despite their best efforts, the plants were too weak, and the wind tore them from the soil and into the water. The wooden box began to tilt, as if trying to keep itself balanced. A second gust came along though, and knocked the chest clear from the rocky ledge into the lake- where it had just found freedom from.