Realm Leaper, page 9
As they sat, enjoying their ales and bread, Sage stared out on the city streets below them. She grinned at the sights, and when a soft breeze began to pass by, she lifted her chin with closed eyes towards the sun in appreciation.
He wished he’d caused that breeze and made a note to remember that for the future.
“So, what do you think of our city so far?” Gavin asked.
“It’s wonderful. Thank you for this. I think this is the most normal I’ve felt since coming here.”
Their food, hummus, cheese, and smoked meats, arrived at that time.
“Your family doesn’t live here; how come?” she asked while pausing to sip her ale.
“My parents never really appreciated the city. I think living in cramped living quarters ruined it for them. Mystaira is far less crowded; it suits them.”
“Does it suit you?” asked Sage.
“At times. Sometimes when I need more space to fly— feel the wind— Mystaira seems like the only place in the world I’d want to be. It’s surrounded by beautiful mountains and lakes; it’s wide open. But it’s also very isolated. I spent a long time feeling isolated; I like the variety in the city,” explained Gavin as he finished his ale.
“I think I’d like to see that sometime. I had a dream about my home, my family. I’m pretty sure I have a sister, and I think I came from a wide-open place, but ended up somewhere else more cramped. Honestly, from the first memory I had, I’m not sure I’d want to go back to that,” Sage said, leaning back and gazing out at the market below. After a while, Sage slapped her hands on the table, “Oh! I forgot….but I couldn’t impose. Shoot!”
“What? What’s going on?!” Gavin demanded.
Sage rubbed her hands across her face, “I promised Hyacinth I’d bring her something from the city. But I don’t have any money, and I don’t even know where to look.”
She looked defeated at the thought of letting down Hyacinth.
“Don’t worry about it. Just tell me what it is. I’d be happy to buy it. Think of it as me making up for my intrusion this morning.”
Sage gave Gavin a side eye, “You really should know better, you know. Ok. I’ll take that deal. She wants some banner, or art, or something for the Queen’s birthday. Do you know what I’m talking about?” Gavin knew just where to look.
Within ten minutes of leaving the tavern, they were in a part of the market that popped up within the last week. Temporary stalls and booths were splayed out across a road that was blocked off to horse and wagon traffic, dedicated solely to pedestrian shoppers. Several booths boasted arrays of historical books and artifact replicas, while others displayed clothing decorated especially for the celebration to take place in a month’s time.
As they walked, Gavin noticed a translucent figure walking alongside them. “Hello Symon,” Gavin said softly.
Not one for wasting time on pleasantries, Symon replied, “There will be a formal reception in honor of the Queen for her birthday in three weeks. You will be there, to pledge fealty in honor of Mystaira. The girl comes, too. We can’t afford to leave her to her own devices. She will need to be prepared, and in charge of her powers. You will see to it she, and you both are ready,” Symon commanded.
“And if she doesn’t want to?” Gavin asked.
Sage had stopped walking and was looking around her wildly, before giving Gavin a questioning look. He held up a finger, signaling her to wait just a moment.
“Just be a good Lord, and do as you’re told,” grinned Symon, knowing exactly which threads he was pulling with those words.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Gavin said, maybe a little sarcastically.
“Don’t spend too much of my money out here,” Symon replied, as he shimmered out of Gavin’s view.
“What…who are you talking to?” Sage asked, peering around Gavin.
“That was Symon. He has powers specific to mind and mental control. He can spectre…cast his likeness into just about anyone’s mind. It’s one of the ways he sends messages to us cronies,” Gavin explained.
“Mental control? Does that mean-“ Sage’s voice dropping to a whisper “-that he can control other minds?”
“Yes. It was one of the only reasons we defeated Rankor and his men. That and Aryael’s fire.”
“So he can just…control other soldiers?” asked Sage.
“For short periods of time.” Sage looked at Gavin, stunned by the information.
“Has he ever mind-controlled you?” she asked.
“No. Or at least I don’t know if he had. I don’t even know if I would remember if he had, actually. I’ve never really thought about it,” Gavin said.
Ready to shake the thought that he might actually have been controlled and not know it, Gavin led Sage towards a booth at random and began looking through the wares.
Sage followed, and admired the commemorative clothing made for the celebration; she lingered by a display of scarves embroidered with flames, a symbol of Aryael herself. She passed from the scarves and stopped by a display of Felysian flags. The flags were halved, one side a block of deep blue with a male lion and two female lions of red, all with wings, in a straight line; the other half of the flag was white, with a bold red flame in the center of its block. “That flag was made when King Symon and Queen Aryael were crowned; this half represents the lion-borne siblings, Symon, Meliza, and Petra. This other half represents Aryael. Their union, their combining of powers was the turning point in our revolution.”
“Lion-borne; why are they called that?” Sage asked.
“Probably because that’s how they shift. And their father was called The Lion when he was on the battlefield. Felysians love giving everyone dramatic titles,” Gavin explained with chagrin. They finished perusing the stall, and headed towards another booth featuring paintings and storybooks of famous fae from various lands. Sage picked up a picture book featuring two fae holding hands and holding up rods with serpents. “That’s the story of Amara and Eron. They founded the healing temples in Mystaira; they were bonded and devoted their lives to teaching fae how to heal and preserve life. They accepted those like Raphael, gifted with healing powers, and others who just desired to learn the healing arts. The temples were destroyed, but we’ve been rebuilding them over the past several years.” Sage ran her hand over the book, and set it down. There was so much to learn about this new place she was in; Gavin hoped he wouldn’t overwhelm her with information. He passed a coin to the female working in the stall and swiped up the book.
They wandered for a while longer before reaching the end of the temporary market space, and Sage peered through the stalls as they worked to produce the art pieces Hyacinth had mentioned. They sat, watching a fae female paint a rectangle block of various colors, then stamp the design on a piece of parchment. The end result was a mosaic that featured a nondescript likeness of Queen Aryael on the battlefield. It didn’t show her striking features, but the tell-tale flaming sword, rich dark skin, and long amber-colored braids made it clear who the portrait depicted. In a booth across from them, Gavin pulled Sage towards a portrait painted of the scene they watched stamped.
It was Queen Aryael, dressed in battle armor. Her dark skin glistened with sweat and blood; her sword was lifted to the sky, flames engulfing the blade, and her long, amber braids whipped in the wind. Behind her, a lion roared, and the artist had taken pains to include many of the fae who had fought in the battles of the revolution, roaring alongside their King and Queen in victory as they defeated their oppressors. Gavin and Sage gazed at the portrait for a long time, before Gavin cleared his throat, “I think Hyacinth might like this one. What do you think?”
Sage gazed at it for a long moment, “I couldn’t. This painting…it must cost a fortune. It’s mesmerizing.”
“It’s perfect,” Gavin replied and summoned the stooped male in the corner. “How much?” he asked, pointing at the portrait.
“Five krons,” the male replied. Five krons was steep, even for a portrait of this detail. He had six on him, thankfully, but had never expected to spend it all. He grinned with tight lips and slapped the coins onto the table. The male nodded his head and took the painting to the back of his stall to wrap it in soft cloth to protect it on its journey home. “Thank you,” Sage whispered, staring at Gavin. He just nodded, watching the male prepare their package.
A soft breeze brushed the back of his neck, and he stiffened. Something about the breeze seemed foreign, misplaced. A thread of malice tainted the air and refused to respond to his control. Simultaneously, the stooped male seemed to straighten and made his way back to the front with their prepared package. His instincts kicking in, Gavin edged closer to Sage.
The male’s eyes were rimmed in red, as if he’d been crying, and he handed the package to Gavin before approaching Sage.
“You are her, aren’t you? The girl from the sky.”
✧✦✧
Sage looked to Gavin before replying, “I don’t know what you mean.” The stooped fae male across from her suddenly seemed less frail, less friendly. His eyes glowed like embers in a flame. The intensity of his gaze burned.
She squared her feet and leaned away from the stall slightly. She felt like a doe getting ready to run from a wolf.
“You are her. He’s looking for you. Do you remember? How he looks for you?” the stallholder asked, reaching across the table to grasp at her hand. The moment the stallholder's hand connected with Sage’s arm, her knees buckled, a hand flying to her forehead, eyes shut tight in pain. Thousands of needles pierced her skin and her breath stole away from her. The stallholder’s skin was clammy and slipped against her skin. But he squeezed tighter with a grip that belied his apparent age.
Gavin lunged forward to get her away as a scream was wrenched from her throat. She flung out an arm, and pillars of rock surrounded him. Even as the pain ricocheted through her body, glimpses of her past filtered through her mind. Amidst the pain answers awaited her, if she survived the onslaught.
A stark white room with incessant, rhythmic beepings. People carrying syringes, confused questions stuttering from people she couldn’t see. A woman with a mechanical eye, an automobile smoldering. A van of dead or dying victims.
The stallholder continued whispering in her ear, dripping poison into her mind. "He’s coming. Wait for him.”
Tears lined her eyes, but Sage pushed Gavin away with a tremor sent through the earth so that he couldn’t separate her from her tormentor. She could feel Gavin using the wind to try and pry her from the male holding her, but she clung back at him, determined to siphon any memory she could.
“My little prize. Stay where you are. I’ll be there to get you soon.” A burst of light flashed before her eyes, and she felt the male’s grip slacken.
Just as suddenly as it began, the wind stopped. The stallholder straightened, released her arm, and then with eyes leaking blood instead of tears, he fell backward.
✧✦✧
Sage fell, sagging to her hands, gasping for breath, and Gavin rushed to her. Booths and stalls, the entire marketplace was in chaos. She had created a minor earthquake that had upended displays, scattering banners and books everywhere.
Gavin helped haul her back to her feet before checking on the male stallholder behind the table. Blood rushed from the man’s eyes and ears. Gavin could detect no heartbeat, his breath silenced forever. Something had taken control of this stranger and killed him in the process.
“He knew me. He knew. Gavin…he showed me,” Sage whispered.
Gavin spoke quickly to the sentries who had rushed to the scene, giving them orders to get Meliza and Zeke to the booth, and shifted to his winged form. He had to get Sage out of there before her presence became too noticeable. He grabbed their package and scooped her up under her knees before shooting into the sky.
The feeling of her trembling in his arms was an all too familiar feeling at this point, and the fear of danger coming back to his home was an unwelcome companion on his flight to safety.
He flew her to the Obelisk and walked her straight to Raphael’s ward.
Raphael turned from his shelf of tonics, took one look at Sage, and with a grim face, told Gavin to lay her down and leave. Gavin did as he was told, not saying a word to her as he left the ward to head back to the market.
His heart hammered a staccato rhythm as he flew, furiously, back to the market. Instincts to find the threat, and protect his own nearly sent him out of control.
Meliza turned as Gavin landed in the marketplace center. “Well, she knows how to make a day exciting,” Meliza greeted. Gavin didn’t bother to feign amusement. “Was it the dark borne?” he asked.
“It’s likely,” answered Zeke. “How’d they know about her?” Zeke questioned. The three of them stared at the dead fae male in his booth, pondering how he’d succumbed to such a fate and what it meant for their city and country.
“He told Sage someone was looking for her. She doesn’t seem to remember who it is, but she is afraid of them,” Gavin explained.
“Then we will keep them from her,” Meliza answered.
Gavin nodded his agreement. Like hell was he going to let some defenseless human into the claws of one of the dark borne; and if they were involved with whoever was hunting her, Sage was in big trouble. Besides, Gavin knew Meliza had been itching for a reason to kill the dark-borne brothers, and he wouldn’t mind putting a sword through their necks either. They were Rankor’s sons and would be coming for revenge someday. Better to get it over with than to wait idly, in his opinion.
Meliza met Zeke’s stare, and they nodded. “It’s time to go talk to Symon”
Gavin waited two wingbeats before meeting his commanders in the sky. If only he could start the day over. Maybe they all could have remained hidden just a little while longer.
8
✧✦✧
You, darling, are very special. Special to me, and to your country. You and I are going to do amazing things. The cold voice echoed through her mind and cloyed her senses.
Sage had woken feeling exhausted again, just after she had begun feeling a little bit whole.
The events in the market had hammered her mind throughout the night, unlocking dark and twisted images that bore little context or truth about her past. An urgency to discover her past was erupting within her. The fact that her hunter followed, and found her, in Felysia and managed to possess the stallholder made her feel unsafe—watched. Unclean.
She sat by her window, watching the sun peek above the tower, the domes sparking to life as sunbeams slipped over them.
Her body was tense, bunched together, and on high alert. Her room was quiet, so quiet that it made her feel like a predator was stalking her, ready to pounce. She lay on the floor to practice the meditation technique Raphael had taught her. Willing her shoulders to soften, she exhaled through the tension trapped between her eyebrows and felt herself let go of the worries plaguing her mind.
She was just pushing back to a seated position, intent on seeing if Hyacinth needed any help in the kitchen when a soft knock on the door preceded Raphael gently entering her room.
“How are we feeling today?”
“Honestly, pretty shitty. But that meditation you showed me helped. I’m feeling a little better.”
“Good!” Raphael beamed at her response. Meeting in the middle, Sage and Raphael took a seat near the fireplace.
“I just can’t help but feel that me being here is playing into someone’s trap.”
“About that. I think we’d better start your training. I had hoped to increase your strength, but from what you told me last night about what happened in the market, I’d say you are strong enough.”
Sage snorted. “Why do I get the impression you heard a different version of events from Gavin? I think he might have had his feelings hurt that I could contain him.”
Raphael laughed in response. “Perhaps, but that wouldn’t be the first time he’s been restrained by someone else’s powers. That’s not so abnormal here, after all.”
“So, are we training here, or do we get to go somewhere else?” Sage asked.
“We will have to stay in the building, for now,” Raphael added quickly in response to Sage’s put-out expression. “We feel that it might be best to keep you here until we have a better idea of what is after you. The Obelisk is enchanted, warded against anyone with malintent.”
“Fine. Well, lead the way.”
Raphael led Sage through the smooth, tan hallways and stairwells into a large, open room. One side of the room boasted large, open windows that allowed wind from the sea to trickle in. On the wall hung various swords, mace, daggers, and shields, none of which Sage knew the first thing about. “So…am I playing with those things?” she asked, pointing to a long row of swords.
“Now, what makes you think I could teach you anything about those? I’m a sophisticated male, remember?” Raphael continued through the room, coming to a stop by a large metal bowl.
“This is where we will train today. We will start with fire since this room is warded against the element. That way, we don’t end up with burst pipes or a crumbling foundation.” Sage rolled her eyes at the connotation. “No sass while training,” snapped Raphael, smacking her lightly on the shoulder before walking to the other side of the bowl.
Inside, lay a damp rag. “So, I’m going to light a wet rag on fire?” Sage couldn’t contain her skepticism as she looked inside the dark, hammered bowl.
“A rag soaked in accelerant, yes.” Raphael replied smartly. “Now, usually, your powers appear when you’ve been triggered by a memory or experience strong emotions. The key to preventing that is by being able to use them when you are calm.” Raphael stepped back from the bowl slightly and gestured with a hand. “Go ahead.”
