The Witch of Thornvale Chapter 12: The Vector
The Witch of Thornvale is a literary portal fantasy featuring two distinct characters. It allegorizes Ludwig von Mises’ Six Lessons.
If you haven’t read the first 11 chapters of The Witch of Thornvale, now would be the opportune time. Find out how Drake Ridgeback ends up in Eirwyn Starweaver’s world, and see what they crossed through on their way to Cinderglen, a secluded community in Thornvale’s dark forests. One that knows a thing or two about markets. To a degree…
The Witch of Thornvale Chapter 12: The Vector
The peddler stopped a few paces short of them.
His eyes moved over Drake’s stance, then Eirwyn’s posture, then the nearest quartz circle. He took his time like he was reading a ledger written in flesh instead of chalk.
“You’re the ones.” His voice carried low, but it didn’t need volume. The square had already gone quieter as villagers turned to watch the conversation.
Drake shrugged. “Depends who’s talking.”
A flicker of something—amusement, maybe—crossed the peddler’s face. “A man who trades between places that don’t always agree with each other.”
Eirwyn’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a long way of saying nothing.”
The peddler shifted the strap of his satchel and let it rest higher on his shoulder. “Names don’t carry as much weight as routes.” His gaze drifted toward the nearest quartz circle as it pulsed. “And this…” He nodded toward the glow. “This will change routes.”
Behind them, a child spoke into one of the crystals, then another pulse and an echo answered from across the square.
The peddler watched that too. “You built a signal. One that moves faster than feet and carts.” He glanced toward the slate keepers near the inn. “And you tied it to memory.”
Drake motioned toward the square. “People wanted it. Most people, anyway.”
“People always want what saves them time.”
“Seems like it.”
“They rarely think about what it costs them.”
Eirwyn shifted her weight, one foot sliding in the moss. “You’ve seen something like this before?”
“Not like this.” He smiled faintly. “But I’ve seen what happens when one village moves faster than the rest.”
A murmur stirred somewhere near the stalls. The blacksmith stood just beyond earshot, arms folded again, watching the conversation.
“What happens?” Drake said.
The peddler looked back at him. “It gets noticed. Copied. Poorly, at first. Then better, then wrong.”
Eirwyn’s jaw tightened. “Wrong how?”
The peddler tapped two fingers lightly against his satchel. “Centralized.”
“They’ll try to control it,” Drake said.
“They’ll try to own it. Control is just the means to an end.” The peddler turned slightly, gesturing back toward the road he came from. “You think Malcor’s men won’t hear about a village where trade moves so quickly?”
Eirwyn’s lower lip curled as another series of pulses flickered across the square.
The peddler’s eyes tracked the rhythm. “They’ll follow the signal, not the people or the paths.” He looked back at Drake. “The signal.”
Drake’s arms tightened across his chest. “So what? You’re here to warn us?”
The peddler answered with the faintest shake of the head. “I’m here to understand whether this is worth carrying.”
That landed harder than anything else.
Eirwyn stepped forward half a pace. “Carrying where?”
“Everywhere I go. If I take this with me—if I speak of it—this stops being a village experiment.” His eyes flicked between them. “It becomes a market force. For now, anyway…”
The words hung. Behind them, a trader raised his voice. “Signal didn’t carry!”
A child answered from across the square. “It did—I got it late!”
Another child’s voice cut in. “Slate says otherwise!”
The rhythm cracked, but enough for the peddler to hear it. “Your system isn’t stable yet. That’s the window.”
Drake frowned. “For what?”
“For someone else to define it before you do.”
Eirwyn exhaled slowly through her nose. “You’re not just a peddler.”
“No,” he said simply. “I’m a vector.”
From the edge of the square, the female elder stepped forward. She pointed at Eirwyn. “You bring strangers.” Her gaze turned toward Drake. “You bring change. And now you bring attention.” Her eyes moved to the vector. “And you bring consequence.”
The vector inclined his head. “I bring options.”
Drake stepped forward. “Let’s say you carry and spread it. What happens then?”
The vector met his gaze. “Then you find out whether this was an invention or a disruption you can’t control.”
Behind them, another quartz flickered, then went dark.
A child’s voice called out from across the square. “It’s not answering!”
Another slate clattered to the ground.
Eirwyn turned toward the failing signal, her hand already moving toward her cloak as Drake’s eyes stayed locked on the vector.
Now, the question wasn’t whether the system worked. It was who it would belong to. Drake intended to spread this invention to the next neighboring town on his own accord. At some point. But if someone else did it for him without input, who knew what the consequences would look like?
Especially a vector.
Check out Chapter 13 and see what becomes of Drake’s invention
