The people of the village had come from faraway lands, so frightened of their pursuers that they dared to settle on land long deemed faycursed. Peace did not come to them; only a short while after they had made the valley their own, a man named Calsar went around between the groups of refugees, recruiting the able-bodied and strong-minded to follow him in defense of their people.

The war which had caused them to flee was turned under Calsar's banner; and thus won, the soldiers were let to return home, each given twenty bronze coins, a calf, and their horse. They were let to keep, of their armaments, the sword, shield, and any armor personally gifted.

The old woman's grandson, the bowing man's son, was apparently very gifted at war. He received thirty bronze coins, and two calves, one a bull.

Sif didn't mind his return; the men had all settled into their homes quietly, and there had been no fighting or mischief afoot because of them.

One day, he was returning home from a walk, deciding arbitrarily that he would enter the home through a kitchen window. As he did so, he heard people speak.

"-ther, how can you be so sure it's really Lady Hélna? Could it not be a demon sent to trick us, or a lying magician?"

" My god, Rágn! How can you say such a thing?! Lady Hélna has been blessing our fields, blessing our children! Lady Hélna rebuilt our homes and kept all of us from dying in a calamitous flood!" the old woman answered, voice raised.

" I'm just saying, Grandmother, the sorcerer of Westernkeep had many magicians in his employ-"

" No mere magician can do as Hélna did," the old woman repeated adamantly. " I have told no one this, Rágn, not even your father- but during that flood, Lady Hélna rose me from the dead!"

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