A heavy cloud cover loomed over Bohemian Petschau, and though the day had long dawned, the sun struggled to emerge. Elias was unfazed by the fine drizzle, thanks to the warmth and dryness provided by the wolf fur over his shoulders. He rode away from the settlement with its log houses, traversing meadows and fallow fields. The wind played with his shoulder-length hair, blowing freshly into his face, carrying scents of earth and moss. Elias spurred Blitz into a faster gallop. With a sure leap, the gray horse crossed the Becov stream. At the forest's edge surrounding the settlement, Elias saw a group of men standing and steered his horse towards them.

Josef was poised to fell a mighty fir with his axe. Walter and Erich were sawing branches off felled tree trunks. Paul and Hubert stood by, thumbs hooked in their belts, ready to assist. The ground was too clayey, and last year's wheat harvest had been poor. They needed to clear more forest area before sowing anew.

The men's eyes, set in their dirt-smudged faces, watched Elias approach. He pulled on the reins of his restlessly dancing gray horse and observed them. Their hard work was etched into their faces. Their yellowed shirts were patched multiple times, the leg coverings worn at the knees, and their leather gloves holey.

"Making progress with the work?" Elias asked. Hubert approached, laughing broadly. "As well as can be, sir." Elias admired this about the settlers. Despite harsh circumstances, they never lost their spirit. There was always someone ready with a joke, eliciting hearty laughter from the others.

"Do you need anything else?" Elias inquired.

"We need God's blessing for a better harvest this year!" Josef interjected, leaning on his axe beside the fir. "So, you have all the tools you need? Axes, saws?" Elias asked. Hubert pushed back his cap. "Yes, sir. We have everything we need." Elias nodded. The settlers were now in charge of their own fate. He was no longer needed. Without a word, he turned Blitz around and spurred the horse.

It had been three years since Elias had allocated land to the colonists and helped them get started. Three years abroad, where he had seen and learned much about himself and the world. It had been a long, taxing time. He longed for home, for the familiar, and this longing grew ever stronger. His father was a ministerialis for the Prince-Bishop of Passau, managing a portion of his holdings in the Bohemian Forest. That was where Elias wanted to return. As a younger son, he had to make his way as a locator. Today was the day he would leave. He had long sensed that this time would come and that Petschau would not be his final stop.

The village quickly came into view again. The log cabins formed an oval around the green with the village pond. To his right, in the north, the castle majestically crowned a granite hill. The massive residential tower stood atop the north side of the cliff, steeply dropping to the Tepel river. The outer bailey with its drawbridge was at the foot of the rock. A moat separated the castle area from the plain where Petschau spread out in the south. A path led directly from the drawbridge to the village.

Elias hesitated, then looked up at the castle. He needed to see the prince. Resolved, he directed his horse away from the log houses toward the path to the fortification, where his employer Boresch of Ossegg and Riesenburg resided.

Boresch sat at his massive, ornately decorated desk, studying a yellowed document. A deep furrow appeared on his forehead. He ran his hand through his blond hair, now showing gray at the roots, and sighed. He wore a white coat with a red border and a golden disc hung on a chain on his chest. Candles on the chandelier dangling from the ceiling illuminated his face. In the fireplace made of sand-colored and brick-red tiles, a fire crackled, spreading a pleasant warmth. Above it, on a wood-paneled wall, hung a tapestry depicting the supreme god Svarog with a white flowing beard, passing power to his three sons Svarozic, Perun, and Veles. Elias had learned much about the Slavic deities from the Bohemian merchants he did business with in Petschau's name.

Elias cleared his throat. Only then did Boresch look up. "The numbers speak a clear language. The future of the Imperial Forest lies in mining!" The prince set aside the document, leaned back in his white brocade-covered chair, and regarded Elias. "Speak, my friend! Why are you here?"

Elias bowed slightly. "Sir, I ask your permission to sell my estate and depart." "So, you wish to leave," Boresch mused, pouring more wine from the carafe. He silently offered some to Elias, who declined with a gesture. "Yes, that is my wish." Boresch took the cup, stood up, and walked to the window framed in a skillfully decorated stone frame. Lost in thought, he sipped the wine and looked out. He pointed down at the plateau where the settlement lay. "Your services have been invaluable. Petschau has gained the stability needed to thrive with your help. You are an experienced locator, and I have never regretted hiring you."

Elias joined Boresch at the window. The view into the steep depth was dizzying. Despite the praise, the locator remained serious. "I have only done my job."

Boresch patted Elias on the shoulder. "A job that will last for generations to come. You have more than fulfilled the contract. I have already compensated you handsomely. But why do you want to leave?"

"I am drawn back to my homeland. I have taught your people everything they need to know. I have accepted a new venture, which will probably be my last. I am not getting any younger. I should settle down and start a family."

"But you could do that here in Petschau too! I have given you two free fiefs, the judgeship, the mill, and other secure income for you and your heirs! You have all conceivable comforts here!"

Elias waved dismissively. "I have enough possessions. But with advancing years, one learns to appreciate home. The songs, the customs, the people. The smell of the forest after the rain. The red sky as the sun rises over the Bohemian Forest. I long for that. Even though Petschau has grown dear to me, it can never replace my homeland."

Boresch sighed. "I see, I cannot keep you. But if you change your mind, my door is always open. In the meantime, I will take care of selling your estate and arranging your succession."

"Thank you, my count. I appreciate that." Boresch left Elias at the window and went to a wooden chest next to the fireplace. He lifted the lid and bent over it. "I have a gift for you." He retrieved a package wrapped in blue cloth and handed it to Elias. The prince's eyes shone. "So you don't forget the Slavic in you!"

Elias accepted the package and unwrapped the gift. It was a figure, small enough to fit in his fist, brightly painted and generously adorned with gold leaf. It felt light in his hand, indicating it was made of wood. The statue depicted a muscular man with short hair and a full beard, wearing armor and a pointed helmet. It was Perun, the supreme deity of the Slavs.

"A truly artfully crafted piece," Elias said appreciatively. Boresch smiled and winked at him. "You should only speak his name in extreme emergencies. But then you can be sure of his help."

Elias had to laugh. "Don't tell your priest about this! He'll run straight to the bishop and denounce you as a heretic." "Nonsense!" Boresch dismissed. "What can the Church tell me? I am still the lord here!"

Elias did not contradict the prince. "Well then..." he said. "Yes, then..." Boresch squeezed Elias's hand. "Na shledanou." The two men embraced. Finally, Elias left the hall.

Gravel crunched under his boots as he crossed the castle courtyard between the massive walls. Elias descended the short, steep path to the outer bailey, where the stables pressed tightly against the mountain. There he took Blitz from a servant and mounted. He rode through the castle gate, whose passageway measured at least three fathoms in length, where a guard leaned boredly against the wall. As Elias crossed the wooden drawbridge over the moat, the hooves of his gray horse clattered loudly.

The road led directly to the green of Petschau with its village pond. Elias had planned the layout of the settlement. Every corner was familiar to him. The road formed a ring and passed by every single house.

"Hey there, Elias!" Walter greeted him, sitting on a wooden stool in front of his hut, carving a knife handle from a bone. Last week, one of the settlers had severely injured him in an accident with an axe. Now his leg was bandaged, and Walter had to keep it rigidly extended while sitting. Elias returned Walter's greeting.

The woman who was shaping clay pots on a potter's wheel two houses down nodded to Elias and laughed. "Back again?" Next to her, a child who could just sit was burying its hands in the earth. Only those too weak for fieldwork stayed in the village today.

In front of the largest log cabin, covered with straw, Elias stopped, dismounted, and tied Blitz to a post. He then opened the wooden door, ducked his head, and entered the living space. There were no windows, so light only came through the gap between the last beams of the gable walls and the roof. Nevertheless, it was cozy here. A fire burned in the oven, and straw mats lay on the clay floor. Elias breathed in deeply. The cabin exuded its own scent of wood and smoke, which he had grown to love. He sighed, took off his wolf fur, and laid it on his bed. Then he went to the table to pack his few belongings into a bag. These were mainly parchment pages with settlement and field sketches, ink and quill, and a slate with a stylus. From the chest next to his bed, he took a shirt and a pair of leggings and stuffed them into the bag. He owned no more.

Outside, he heard someone singing. A woman with a full voice. Jana. She sang one of the Bohemian folk songs that sounded so melancholic that one almost wanted to burst into tears. Footsteps approached. The door opened. Jana entered. She was tall with blonde hair held together by a band, to which silver temple rings were attached. A green dress fell over her hips, wrapped with a leather belt. Elias found her high cheekbones and blue eyes attractive, though her lips were a bit pale.

"Will you help me with my armor?" Elias walked over to the stand where the chainmail hung and took it off. He slipped into it and sat down on a stool.

Jana silently approached him and adjusted the shirt on Elias' body. She came close to his face, her breath tickling his ear. Then she knelt in front of him and put on his arm and leg guards. Her hands were as gentle as a feather on his skin. She fastened the buckles with a strength Elias hadn't initially expected from her. He opted not to wear the armor that knights in his homeland wore. He liked how light and agile he could move in the Slavic armor.

"I'm leaving." Elias watched Jana as she tightened the last strap.

Jana did not look up.

"Janka, I'm going back to my homeland."

She paused in her movement and looked at him with wide eyes. Her cheeks turned red. "You're leaving me?"

Elias held her gaze. "We've already talked about this. I never deceived you."

Jana stood up and fetched the sword from the weapon stand. Elias couldn't see her face, but thought he heard her sniffle. When she came back with the sword in hand, she showed no sign of emotion.

"Stand up!" she said.

Elias spread his arms so Jana could belt the sword on him. His behavior unsettled him. "You deserve better. Someone who stays with you and honors you."

"Who I deserve, I decide," Jana replied coldly, pulling the sword belt extra tight, causing Elias to grunt briefly.

He gently pushed her aside and adjusted the sword so it sat right. "A bird in a cage withers. I didn't cage you, and now you must let me go too."

Jana looked at him piercingly. "I will miss your scent of forest and earth," she said softly. "Your brown hair when I bury my fingers in it. Your strong body when you lie with me." She hesitated for a moment. Then she walked to the exit with her head held high. But the trembling of her shoulders, the brief sob, showed that she was crying. She did not turn around but quietly closed the door behind her.

Elias sat down on the stool and stared into space. He was doing the right thing, no doubt. He had never wanted to stay here forever. That had always been clear from the beginning. And yet, he had left so often before. Just as he had kissed so many girls goodbye who had broken down in tears before him. Even when they had begged him to take them along: In a foreign land, they would not have been happy. They belonged in their homeland, so they were not uprooted like himself. Elias shook his head. This had to stop. Somewhere he should also stay. This departure had to be the last! That's exactly why he wanted to return to where he came from: to the land of his fathers.

Elias took a deep breath. It was a long trip. The sun, which had meanwhile fought its way through the cloud layer, was already high in the sky and shone through the openings under the roof. He put on his wolf fur and his helmet. Then he grabbed the packet with the talisman, slipped it into the bag, and slung it over his shoulder. He took his shield and leather gloves and went outside.