Realm Leaper, page 21
Not only would he need to tell Symon about Maracadia, he wondered whether they should send out sentries to look for the missing insignias. If they were somewhere on the continent, leaving them unattended could have consequences later.
“Alright ladies, we should join the others. Don’t want to be late. Although, I suppose they can’t get started without their Proctor, now, can they?”
Quickly, the three of them ascended the stairs, a mood of contentment surrounding the girls. Raphael tried not to envy them, but his own mood remained plagued with anxious apprehension. Raphael squared his shoulders as they reached the top of the stairs, and pushed his worries to the back of his mind, forcing himself to turn his focus to the apprentices lining up in the great hall. His worries would have to rest until later that night.
19
✵✵✵
It took me three days by boat to arrive at the port of Lyonesus. I’m sure the skin-color potion I took was the last for me on my journey; I’m not sure the hang-over I received after changing back was worth the safety it afforded me on my journey. Based on my most recent dream, I had to hole up in an abandoned house for two days to recover. I suppose that’s why the pharmacies reserved the potions for extreme cases of dysmorphia.
Never mind all that. What’s important is that I remember the fire temple for Brighid. It’s strange. No one really visits the temples much anymore except on major holidays, one of which being a celebration to remember the last Great War- the one that targeted elementals. Ironic, really, that we go to elemental Gods’ temples to celebrate a history of destroying their chosen blessed.
The temple was enormous. I’m not sure I can truly describe it, but I suppose I can give it a try…
The temple was vast, made of enormous square blocks of limestone. Cairn-like fire pits dotted the interior, all blazing with sacrifices made to Brighid on the last holy day.
A stone labyrinth lined with miniature fires along the top dominated the center of the holy building. At the labyrinth’s end sat a gleaming copper basin of fire, The Heart of Brighid, or so it was called. The walls of the labyrinth were high enough that peeking over the edges to find the way was impossible, and the ditches of hot oil carved into the top of the walls prevented the temptation to try. Instead, faith and patience were required to find the center fire pit. It took Sage a day and a half to finish the maze. And when she found it, she’d also found the oracle.
Standing next to the copper basin of fire, Mugroi the Oracle’s attention narrowed on Sage. Dark glasses clashed against the druid’s filmy white robes, reflecting the bright firelight so much that Sage almost didn’t notice the druid’s sewn-shut mouth. Sage’s stomach flip-flopped with unease, but she forced herself to approach the woman. Sage recognized the druid clothes and the tell-tale glasses announcing the druid’s blindness. Before this moment, Sage believed all of Brighid’s druids had been executed, but this druid had clearly managed to escape, or maybe there was a secret clan hidden somewhere on the continent.
Come closer and we will answer the questions you do not seek but must hear.
The words sifted through Sage like sand in a sieve. Several voices, and yet one echoed through her head, and Sage winced. Despite the sutures, the druid grinned, looking more like a grimace. Again, the croaking voice filtered through Sage.
Yes. That is us you hear. Come, and give us a fortune, and you shall receive the treasure you seek in repayment.
“A fortune?” Sage called out, still yards away from the fire and the druid. Sweat ran down the side of her face, and she resisted the temptation of wiping it away, afraid of making sudden movements and startling the creature ahead of her. “I’m afraid I’m broke.”
It is not material wealth we seek. It is your future we yearn to tell. Seeing fate's designs is our sustenance. Come….let us get a peek.
The druid smiled again, an unsettling image, and extended her arms as if to offer a hug. Her ghastly pale skin glimmered slightly.
“Faith. This is about faith,” Sage reminded herself.
Taking a deep breath, Sage gathered her courage and approached the basin. Before she could get too close, the druid gestured for her to stop. With a flourish, Mugroi the druid produced a blocky, old-fashioned instant camera.
“You….want to take my picture?” Sage asked apprehensively.
The druid held a finger to her sutures, signaling for Sage to be quiet. In a flash, the druid snapped a picture of Sage and held the developing square of picture paper to her eyes as if inspecting it with her sight. The whole scene would have been comical to Sage if she hadn’t been terrified of the woman in white robes.
The druid began to glow. An eerie, star-bright blue light shimmered around the druid, and she began to rise off the floor. She dropped the picture, her head lifting to the ceiling, palms falling to her sides. A melodic harmony of voices rippled through the room, sweeping across Sage like the chiming of bells.
Realm Leaper.
Follow the one who walks on the wind.
Set to right what has been upended.
You will bring the one who is three back into power.
You will see all the worlds reunited in harmony.
There will be discord no more.
Just as quickly as the phenomenon began, the druid lightly dropped to the floor, her hands coming to clasp each other once more. Sage replayed the fortune in her head again. The one who walks on the wind. Who was that?!
“I don’t know what any of that means. Can I just have the insignia now?” Sage moved towards the druid, pulling out her wand.
Brighid probably wouldn’t love it if she knocked the oracle out, but the Goddess was kind of responsible for putting her there in the first place. So Sage considered it an even trade. Before she could act, the druid waved her arms in a flourish, and Sage found herself frozen to the spot. The croaking voice crackled through her again, buzzing in her head.
We know who you are now. You will get what you want, but first—a bargain.
“A bargain! I just gave you a bargain. You wanted to see my fortune, and I let you. Now hand over the insignia.”
Give us a bargain, and you shall have it.
Fighting against the magic the druid wielded proved to be a losing battle for Sage. Begrudgingly, Sage acquiesced. “Fine. A bargain, but only one.”
A twinkle of delight seemed to spark in the dark glasses covering the druid’s eyes. Sage was whisked across the floor with another flourish from the druid’s hands, so she stood nearly nose-to-nose with the woman. Dusty musk with an undertone of rot rolled off the druid’s body, and Sage fought the urge to recoil.
A bargain…you will return to free my sisters so we can roam Lyonesus once more.
Return? That was the bargain? Somehow, it seemed too easy. “Okay. Deal?” Sage tried to keep the question from her reply. Shaking her head, she finalized the bargain, “Deal. It’s a deal.”
The flames in the basin grew to terrifying heights and pressure wrapped itself around Sage’s heart so she thought it might burst. The druid’s magic around her vanished and Sage fell to the floor.
Before she could master her breathing, heart still feeling squished like a grape, Sage looked up to see filmy white robes flutter to the floor, empty of the druid that once filled them. The pressure inside her dissipated and Sage scrambled forward, rummaging through the robes. In the center, Sage found a round medallion bearing Brighid’s insignia. Five arrows and flame.
Her knuckles scraped the stone floor as she scooped the coin up and pushed herself to stand. She staggered to the entrance of the maze, grabbing the bag she dropped as she’d entered. Without waiting to see what happened next, Sage began the journey back through the maze to the sound of cackling echoing off the walls.
I’m not really sure how long it took me to exit the maze. I’m hoping it was a faster process than making it to the end. What I can’t seem to get past is the bargain. Why would the druid make me bargain to come back? Wasn’t that always the plan?
20
✧✦✧
Gavin finished writing his latest missive to Symon.
Already on this trip, Gavin had had to purchase two additional packs of enchanted paper in order to keep up his note-passing with Sage. He looked forward to her messages and found himself seeking small moments of solitude so he could send a message to her. Each time he saw her tight, looping script he felt pleasantly anxious. He pushed aside the questions that swarmed him about what that feeling was and instead focused on sending his notes.
In this case, his note was accompanied by a less-pleasant feeling of anxiety. Once again, he asked for guidance on handling the raiders. Was the movement on the Nysan borders more critical? Gavin supposed so, but losing massive quantities of export from Mystaira would have long-reaching consequences for all of Felysia. If they lost a season’s worth of product, starvation might be their next battle.
Gavin knew Symon wouldn’t let things get that dire. Most likely, Symon would cast directly into the raider camp and mind-control them into taking their own lives. But they were still a rebuilding nation. Compared to the humans in Meropoli, fae did not reproduce nearly as quickly or frequently. They were an aging population. Every life was precious. Gavin considered the likelihood that the raiders possessed legitimate grievances that went unanswered. Perhaps his next course of action should be trying to find the raiders’ camps and trying to intervene on his own. To attempt to negotiate some kind of end to hostilities.
Gavin quickly shook that idea out of his head. Meliza would throttle him if he came back alive and found out about that plan. To go into a hostile camp without backup or reconnaissance, yeah— Meliza would probably skip straight to hanging him by his ankles to humiliate him. If he couldn’t solve the problem on his own right now, he would have to continue reaching out to Symon. This was the third note he’d sent suggesting the King send additional sentries to guard exports from Mystaira to Veritasailles. The note shimmered into nothing just as he heard the crunching of approaching footsteps.
“Amos– good to see you!” Gavin called out to the hand of the latest estate he was visiting. He’d spent the morning with the minor Lord who owned the estate, but he was more interested in speaking with Amos. He was a male with his ears to the ground, so to speak. He hoped Amos could provide some answers on the raids.
“Lord Gavin, I could say the same.” The farmhand’s eyes crinkled in delight as he took Gavin’s offered hand. His browned skin glistened with the barest hint of sweat having come straight from the fields.
“Just Gavin.”
“For now,” Amos’s eyes crinkled even more. “How’s Delphia? And Levi?”
“They are good, Amos. How about Lily?” Lily was Amos’s daughter, his wife having died from an illness that had swept through the work camp. Lily was another rarity, born in the camps, and had been close friends with Delphia growing up.
“Oh, you know, still starting fights others don’t believe she can finish. I’m afraid her mother and I did the world a disservice by giving her such a pretty name.” Despite his words, Amos beamed as he talked about his daughter. “She’s in charge of our livestock here. I’ve given her the task of breaking a mule that’s as hard-headed as she is. Hopefully, that will keep her focused enough to keep her out of trouble.”
As if on cue, a jarring bray rippled across the farm, startling a flock of crows that had been pecking along the path that led to a massive silo. A loud crash closely followed, and then a splash. A female’s voice sputtered and cussed, fading into the distance as the braying signified a mule escaping whatever task Lily had been trying to accomplish. Amos and Gavin laughed riotously.
Gavin pulled himself together again and refocused on the task at hand. “I’m not here for a social call, Amos. Though I suppose I’m overdue for one.”
“That you are, Lordling,” Amos replied. “You’re here about the raids?” Gavin nodded his response. “I was part of the last band of shipments that got hit. It was well-organized. Fast and brutal, but they didn’t take any lives except one guard that was especially vigilant.”
“What I don’t understand is why we haven’t heard about this before. At the very least, Delphia should have been sent word and she would have sent it to me.”
“Well, that’s probably because Seth’s been going around and interfering. According to him, these raiders are the sons, daughters, nephews, and whatnot of Lords and Ladies who were executed or exiled when Symon took back the throne. He supposes he can handle it himself.”
The details began to come together. Seth, who’d always thought it was his birthright to lead Mystaira, was actively campaigning to take over. Gavin felt a pang of empathy for the male because he was probably the better choice. The sentiment was short lived, however, as Gavin considered that Seth had neglected to seek outside help, the end result being a guard’s life and continued economic terrorism.
“Right. Thanks, Amos. I’ll get these details wrapped up, but I’ll leave your name out of it. Don’t want you on the hook with Seth. I’d bet he’s got some sort of arrangement with your employers?”
Amos nodded, peering off into the distance as the sun began to set. “I’ll be back again before the year is up. If you hear anything else, tell Lily to get the word to Delphia. They’ve got history so it won’t seem suspicious if she goes to visit.”
Gavin shook Amos’s hand in farewell then shifted into his winged form. He flew towards the small town center that bordered the farm. He needed to pick up more enchanted paper before stopping in to visit the next estate. The next message to Symon would include a request to increase his allowance on this visit so he could continue his correspondence. The king didn’t have to know where the rest of the paper was being sent.
✧✦✧
Symon pondered Gavin’s latest notes. A group of three sat in front of the King, two detailing the latest information gathered by the young Lord, and one requesting an allowance to buy yet more enchanted paper. The math didn’t quite add up; Symon had sent Gavin with enough paper to allow for two reports per estate. The king had his suspicions about where the rest of the paper had gone.
Raphael appeared rather dramatically in the middle of Symon’s study. “What are you grinning over?” he asked as he walked over to the king.
“Oh, just remembering what it was like to be young,” Symon said.
“Ah– so that’s from Gavin, I take it.” Symon offered a knowing grin and a shrug in answer, and Raphael chuckled softly. “Right, I’ve not come this far to gossip about young love, although you know I love a good story to tell.”
“Why are you this far from the Rafalatriki? Has Shiphrah kicked you out?”
“No. I came because…something strange happened last night. The apprentices have the day off, and even if they didn’t…you need to hear—no— to see this.”
“What is it?” Symon sat up in his chair, alarmed by Raphael’s sudden change in demeanor.
“She’s made a bargain,” Raphael responded.
“You know about the druid?” Symon asked. Confusion swept across Raphael’s face, and Symon didn’t need to read minds to understand what was in Raphael’s thoughts. “What happened?” Symon asked again.
“I don’t quite understand,” Raphael began, walking away from the desk and beginning to pace erratically—and somewhat annoyingly— around the room. Symon couldn’t remember seeing the healer so out of sorts and self-conscious. “I suppose due to the difference in her biology, dream walking with Sage had different side effects than I anticipated. I’m not sure if it’s an empathy link, that would explain the phenomena, but—”
“—What. Happened.” Symon applied a dominance to his voice rarely used with Raphael.
Immediately, the healer stopped, turned toward the king, and replied, “I was in her dream. Almost as if I were…her. I felt everything she felt…” Raphael’s face took on a haunted look. “But there was no…druid. A bargain was made, though.” Raphael’s eyes slid towards Symon, and he leaned onto his desk, almost as if to halt the tremor Symon detected in his hands. “If you know of another bargain, with a druid, then that makes two. And who knows how many more.”
Symon sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. This was worrisome indeed. The Fae didn’t take bargains lightly. They were contracts that took dominion over a fae’s fate, preventing the individual from moving forward in life until the terms had been met.
“We don’t know that bargains hold the same power in her world.” He looked back again at Raphael, the same doubt echoed in his eyes. “Yet something tells me we won’t be so lucky. Sit down, Raph, and show me.”
Raph nodded in agreement, making his way to a plush couch before lying down.
“Start from the beginning.”
The journey to Cerridos had taken a month, most of it on foot. On the way there, in the back of unsuspecting trucks, or when she’d found a place to take shelter for a few days, she read the book. So when she reached Kailyoch, the tallest of the Ardernin Mountain Range, she was ready for the next task.
It took her a week to reach the summit of the mountain, the final day spent scaling the rugged, windswept face. Only her earth and wind magic prevented her from plummeting to her death on the jagged rocks below.
When she reached the top, she’d been amazed to find a druid circle. Great, square, stone pillars sat in perfect symmetry around a stone altar table in the center. The table featured a thin stone archway that held a stone pendant attached by a leather band. The pendant lay on the rim of a great copper basin; as the wind blew gently, the pendant circled the basin, causing a melodic ringing to fill the sacred space.
The stone pillars were covered with metal coins, tied through holes in their centers, and attached by leather throngs to the pillars. As the wind blew, the coins clinked against each other adding to the melodic quality of the altar. Sage sat in that stone circle for hours, or at least what felt like hours, marveling at the beauty.
