Faces in the Mists
First Steps¶
Ebonvale's mists made it difficult to discern a proper sunrise and sunset. The light was always dim, and the gradual change from night to day was slow, especially when rain clouds obscured the sky. The mists were especially thick toward the east1, where a sliver of sunlight might otherwise have been visible.
The party assembled at the stables behind the mayor's manor. A small cart of produce was being loaded. A muscular beast of burden quietly chewing on cud. She was introduced as Zoey, but their presence barely registered to her vacant stare. The mayor ushered the party to an awaiting masted figure standing by the cart, "Tibor has generously offered to guide you to Stavaki."
The masked Tibor was not the one they knew. Up close, the slouch was feigned and the book in his hand did not show the same signs of wear as the ones they'd previously seen. The figure shifted their weight uneasily as the mayor spoke, "Please, sign your names on the contract in the cart, and then seal it in the adjacent envelope with wax."
As the party moved to the cart, the masked figure hugged the mayor. Ivan shed a tear for the unshared knowledge he carried about their voyage.
With the document signed in their aliases and properly sealed, the party was ready to depart. The mayor gave them a final farewell, "May your journey be swift and safe." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he turned away to hide his tears.
\ *
Finally a comfortable distance away from Kraskova, Seamus drew out in the air, "Speak freely?"
"Gods, yes," came with a sigh of relief as Tijana removed her mask. They all recognized the voice as soon as she spoke. "Thank you for catching on so quickly. Some adventurers are so dense."
"I know the type," Seamus spoke with a memory and a smile. "Share their name and life story without a second thought."
Elwood leaned over to Tijana to ask, "What is it that prevents your father from speaking in his own home? Has he not control over his own domain?"
"The Devil has many eyes and ears in this land," Tijana replied. "At the manor, be it in the walls or the hired help, we've learned not to speak in the open. There may be eyes out here among the trees still, but you need not worry about your words."
Elwood asked for correction, "Apologies, who?"
"The count." Tijana explained. "His 'gifts' are poisons that suck you dry in subservience. My father has learned to play his games so as not to spend all day documenting. Those who reside in his castle are the worst, a shadow of their former selves, remade in his image."
"You would not have his hand, then?" Fareflynn asked.
She shook her head, "I would never see him again, if I had a choice in the matter."
Seamus expressed some confusion, "Is Stavaki any safer?"
Tijana nodded, "The city is as old as he is. He has spies, of course, but his name is banned within the walls. Any mention of him is met with a swift and brutal response."
Seamus was a bit taken back, imagining an on-the-spot execution for a slip of the tongue, "Noted."
"Don't misunderstand," Tijana continued, "the woods are quite dangerous as well. The dangers just don't happen to be of the sort that one man inflicts on another."
Fareflynn mirrored Seamus's confusion, "But why would your father entrust us with your safety? Perfect strangers."
"Because of his fortune from the Soothsayer," Tijana explained. "Anya of the Velara told him, 'Your birdie is in danger, let her be guided by the moonlight that seeks the sun.' And then you arrived shortly after." She gestured to Fareflynn, "A follower of Lunara headed to the temple of Solander."
Elwood pulled out his map to see a small tent labeled 'Velara' just south of their trail to Stavaki, "Not far from here."
Tijana nodded, "They're the only group that can move freely through the mists for trade. They are nomadic merchants. I imagine they arrived recently given their schedule."
Fareflynn was putting the pieces together, "What will happen when the Count realizes what we've done?"
Seamus spoke, not quite to himself, "I'm beginning to think we may be making a mistake by getting on the count's bad side."
Tijana shook her head, "You're newcomers. Profess ignorance of his plan, and you can't be held accountable for my actions." Her voice deepened in sorrow, "My father is bound to his post, so I may never see him again. He may be able to avoid direct punishment by claiming ignorance of my escape, but he will certainly be granted another 'gift'. He said he preferred it over seeing me wed to the Devil."
\ *
They continued walking south, their road curving through the foothill slopes of the northern mountains, anticipating a turn to the west toward Stavaki. The dark clouds in the east grew thicker, and the wind picked up. What started as a drizzle turned into a heavy pattern on travelers in soaked clothes.
The dark clouds that gathered in the north beyond the castle were now converging into a singular storm that approached rapidly, sending down ear-splitting crashes of an ethereal, ghostly lightning. As it approached, the scent of ozone hung in the heavy air, accompanied by a darker metallic tang, like blood, and the distant charred smell of struck trees.
Seamus, Elwood, Fareflynn, and Tijana quickened their pace to find shelter, running ahead of the pursuing storm, but slowed by lumbering a creature not built for speed. At their pace, a couple items of their perfunctory produce tumbled off the cart. The sparse tree cover gave way to a small clearing, where a stone archway framed an entrance to a graveyard, providing just enough cover to avoid the worst of the rain. Only Zoey was left out in the direct rain.
Elwood getured for the others to remain in the archway and continued to the middle of the clearing. Arms outstretched, he began some form of ritual.
"Master E-- Groveheart!" Fareflynn shouted above the hiss of the downpour, "What are you doing?"
"I can calm it," El shouted back. "We'll be safer--", a large crash of lightning landed just a few yards away behind him, "Safer if I can diminish the intensity." Green tendrils of light formed in his hands, and he pulled as if securing a tarp in the violent winds. Whatever he tugged, it was unyielding. His feet twisted into the dirt. Vines crossed up over his boots to secure him in place, and all of his might focused on reining in the storm.
"This is unnatural!" El shouted, "I've felt anything like it!"
Another lightning strike landed just a few feet away, shattering a gravestone in the process. The ground shook in what felt like the tremors and aftershocks of the enormous impact, with a much slower dropoff than any of them would have anticipated. Rather than calming the storm, El's ritual seemed to tether it to them, concentrating the strikes in the clearing.
"Let go!" Fareflynn shouted between repeated deafening rattles, "Let it pass!" We could barely see Elwood's hunched form beyond the beating rain, battling the force that yanked him upward.
El's hunched form suddenly went rigid, his shoulders and head thrown back in a silent scream, letting go of his magical tethers. A limp form was curled around his legs, having bitten down and quickly released. The wind blew the concentrated black cloud away, and the ethereal bolts of lightning with it. The parting rain revealed a dozen or so undead figures, their eyes glowing with a sickly ultraviolet light.
Tijana darted out of the archway, her sword drawn, and slashed at the nearest undead. The creature's head rolled away, but the body continued to claw in her direction as she moved to the next. She kicked a second in the chest, only for it to land on another form emerging from the dirt.
Seamus traced a familiar circle to launch motes of acid at each of the undead forms hovering around Elwood, ready to strike. His hands were shaking in pain, attempting to put pressure on the wound at his thigh. The surrounding creatures decayed under the acid, one's jaw falling away and another's shoulder disintegrating, but they continued to claw at Elwood. One sunk fingernails into his calf and the one with the intact jaw bit down on his shoulder. As it bit, it went limp and Elwood let out another pained cry, his body rigid.
Fareflynn ran out from the cover of the archway, her mace glowing with a soft light. She bashed me into the nearest undead that stood in her way. It jolted back, crumbling into dust against my force. A soft ethereal glow bounced out of it, as if hit even harder by an unseen explosion propelling it back. Fareflynn lifted the head of her mace into the air with her right hand, and brought it down across her body, smacking the next undead across the face. It shriveled to ash beneath the glowing strike, with another ethereal glow bouncing out of it. The undead went limp and Fareflynn continued to charge toward Elwood.
Tijana swiped the tip of her sword to sever hands that reached up from the ground at her own ankles. Seamus aimed his next motes of acid at the feet of the undead to slow their unnatural advance.
Elwood has slumped forward and would have fallen if not for the vines securing him to the ground. His eyes were winced in pain, his breath ragged, and both his leg and shoulder trembled intermittently.
Fareflynn approached at full force, bashing me into another undead. With a massive strike upward, she sent another flying into the air. The imparted light exploded out of her mace at a ten foot radius, turning all undead to dust in the area.
Fareflynn gave a panicked look to Elwood and then turned to see both Seamus and Tijana fighting off disembodied limbs that would not cease. She ran to one, slamming my edge to the ground, and then stomping the other. Only her touch could release the ghostly light within.
When all of their assailants were unmoving, Fareflynn returned to Elwood's side, supporting his weight. He seemed in and out of consciousness, his breath shallow. Tijana severed the vines that held him in place and Seamus stood behind him, just barely able to bear El's weight on his small frame.
As they lowered Elwood to the ground, Fareflynn removed her gauntlets and peeled away the fabric around each of his wounds. She instructed Seamus in haste, "Fashion a stretcher." Seamus's own breath was irregular in panic, staring at the open wounds. "Now!" Fareflynn shouted, and Seamus snapped to attention, darting off to his pack under the archway.
Tijana looked to Fareflynn and then Seamus in uncertainty. Fareflynn continued, "Keep his head up." Tijana knelt in the muck to lay Elwood's head on her lap.
Fareflynn inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with a calming breath and surrounding her hands with a soft blue light. She placed her hands on Elwood's leg. As she exhaled, the light flowed into his body, the bleeding slowed to a stop, and the wound began to close. She repeated the process on his shoulder, and then waved her hands over his body in a scanning motion. Her eyes winced shut and her face twisted as if being beaten by the pain of a bitter freezing wind.
Tijana's eyes were wide in a mixture of concern and awe, "Is he-- can you heal him?"
Fareflynn's hands hovered above his leg that was still stiff and shaking. Her eyes were still closed and she seemed to be pushing against some unseen force. Her hands relaxed, still hovering above his leg, and she opened her eyes, "Physically, yes. I can stop the bleeding." She looked to Tijana, "But there is a sickness in him that I cannot heal."
The gravity of the situation sunk in on them both as Seamus returned with a stretcher formed from a chalked long arc of a rope and a barrier projected across it, "This will lighten the big guy for us, but I don't know how long it will hold."
Fareflynn met his eyes, "I don't know how long we have."
Tijana helped lift a semi-conscious Elwood onto the stretcher, "Stavaki is still quite a ways off. We must move quickly."
They trudged through the deep mud of the clearing to find the road, nearly falling several times over the uneven ground. The rain had let up, but the ground was soaked and slick. Travel would be slow. Elwood gave groans of attempted communication at each moment of rough handling, but no words formed. His shaking leg rattled against the magic barrier2.
They came to a point where the road curved northwest. A signpost pointed the way to Stavaki. A smaller path led in the opposite direction, unmarked, with a small campfire off in the distance. Fareflynn stopped as if halted by some force. The distant firelight was foregrounded by the singular trunk of a dead tree and a pool of water at its base. Together, they formed the shape of a candlestick, if you squinted through the haze.
Tijana tugged at the front of the stretcher, stopped short by Fareflynn's pause, "Miss. Come, Stavaki is this way."
Fareflynn shook off the vision and gave an inarticulate objection, "No, this path, there--"
Tijana was flustered and looked at Seamus for support, "The Velara will not be kind to such an emergency. And their Soothsayer3 is no healer."
"What is it?", Seamus prompted
Fareflynn looked back with certainty, "We'll be safe there, I'm sure of it."
Tijana was still uneasy, "We know them from their trips around the lands as traders. They do not take kindly to visits to their camp."
Fareflynn was resolute, "Do you trust me?... Did your father?"
Tijana paused and then gave a stiff nod, "As you wish."
A Caravan's Rest¶
As they approached the camp, the sound of laughter and music filled the air. Children ran around playing some form of ad-hoc game whose rules changed by the minute. Adults sat around a fire or on the steps of barrel-topped wagons, playing instruments, singing, or telling stories. The bright, vibrant colors caught the firelight and danced in the shadows, a welcome contrast to the dark and gloomy mists that surrounded them.
Fareflynn approached the camp, still carrying a pained Elwood on Seamus's magical stretcher. The camp was a bustle of activity, but the music and laughter died down as the party approached. A broad-shouldered man stood from his seat to signal some form of leadership. His pointed ears and sharp features were unmistakably elven. His skin was a deep tan of a traveler who had seen many suns. An elven mother called out to a running child with a protective fear, "Ayen, come here."
One of those running peeled off from the group and ran straight toward Fareflynn. In the fading light, her frayed nerves raised the alarm and Fareflynn braced for an attack, calculating how she might defend herself without dropping Elwood.
Instead, she found herself wrapped in a familiar hug, "Fairy-glyph! You made it! You gotta meet--" Kit stopped himself as he caught sight of Elwood, "Oh, oh no. C'mere, over by the fire." He grabbed Fareflynn's damp robes and tugged her closer to the campfire surrounded by several elves sharing a meal. "It's my friends, you guys!" He shouted out to others at the camp, whose posture relaxed somewhat, though the music did not resume.
"We were attacked," Fareflynn explained, "He was bitten--" She placed the stretcher down by the fire on a bed of blankets recently vacated by a middle-age elven woman. Elwood was unconscious, pale with sullen eyes, but his arm and leg were still unnaturally stiff, and occasionally shook.
"Okay, okay, you're gonna be okay Wolfman," Kit said, patting Elwood's cheek. In their short time together, this was the most concerned Fareflynn had seen him. Kit lay his head down on Elwood's chest and closed his eyes. "You're gonna be okay."
Seamus approached the fire, relieved to see Kit. He scanned the camp's many onlookers and touched his own pointed ears.
A yellow light grew from where Kit was pressed against Elwood. It spread out from his torso to envelop him. As it hit each of his previous wounds, it encountered resistance, like a bouncer gently clearing a bar after last call. It was halted by the resistance, but fought against each, pushing back something that was not meant to be there. With the shape of an inflating balloon, the light grew to encompass Elwood's entire body, and then it popped, stretching outward and vacating two ethereal lights, just as Fareflynn had banished from the undead.
Elwood's body finally relaxed, and his breathing steadied. He was pale in the firelight, but it appeared his fight was over and he could rest.
Kit sat up and tapped Fareflynn on the arm, "Thanks for bringin' him. I gotta go finish my game." He diverted to give a quick, unexpected hug to Seamus before running off.
Seamus finally brought his attention away from the onlookers to realize that Elwood was stable. "What did he just--"
Fareflynn was in a bit of shock, "He keeps surprising me." She knelt down to check Elwood's pulse and clean up her previously rushed work. She applied some bandages from her pack and, with a wave of her hand, mended his clothing to mostly repair the tears.
Seamus and Tijana looked at each other, and then back out at the camp. They each gave a gesture of greeting to whoever they caught eyes with, but none returned their kindness. The conversations and music slowly resumed.
Several minutes of silence passed, only punctuated by a timid reconvening of children for said game. Once concluded, Kit rushed back to Seamus and grabbed his hand, "C'mon, you gotta meet Uncle Taka."
Takimir was the burly elf who stood on their initial approach. Kit dragged Seamus the short distance to where Taka sat, "Uncle Taka, this is magic man. Magic man, this is Uncle Taka. I knew him from the before." And then he ran off again.
Takimir's face broke from stern into a warm smile, "The producer of flames, I presume." He extended a hand in greeting.
Seamus bowed in deference, "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Seamus leaned into Taka to whisper and he switched to a stunted Elvish, "Do you speak freely in your camp?"
Taka gave a gentle nod and spoke in Elvish in return, "You are concerned about the devil's spies, I see."
Seamus looked about the camp, nodding.
Taka continued, "Some of us are bound by commitments4, but none that would require us to betray our guests."
"Do you exchange names?" Seamus asked.
Taka gave a half-smile and a tilting head, signaling 'yes-and-no', "It is a good place to practice the name you wish to use when you journey on. But a slip-up would not be cause for concern."
Seamus nodded, surveying the eerie woods beyond the camp, "I see... Well, in that case, I'm Buster McGee." He repeated his bow.
"Ha!" Taka laughed and then caught himself in mild embarrassment, "Really?"
Seamus subtly shook his head 'no'.
"I am Takimir, but you may call me Taka. I see Kit's joie-de-vivre has rubbed off on you."
"He has a good heart," Seamus agreed. "How is it he joined your camp?"
"We found the poor lad wandering the mists," Taka explained. "You can get turned around in there pretty easily and end up walking in circles for hours if you don't know the way."
Seamus tensed his lips in a pained expression, "You are very kind to help a stranger in this way."
"It's not the first time we crossed paths," Taka explained. "I first met Kit when he was kept in a cage by a traveling performer. I traded a favor for his freedom. We dropped him off in Glintport to try to find what remained of his lady's home by the sea." Seamus's eyes narrowed, taking in the new information. Taka gestured to Fareflynn, "Is that her? His lady?"
"No," Seamus responded, "But he has taken quite the liking to her."
Taka nodded, "Maybe someday." He watched as Kit played a peek-a-boo style game with a mother and child, eliciting belly laughs from them both, "A heart like his could quickly harden to the ways of the world."
A quiet sadness washed over Seamus, "Then we are all in your debt."
Taka gave an appreciative nod, "We have a monopoly over trade in the mists. I try to spend wisely."
After a pause, Seamus probed, "So you have a profitable relationship with the Count, then, despite commitments?"
Taka's smile faded, "This was our homeland before the Devil's rule. He profits more than we do... There is a deep history if you can find someone who will tell it to you."
"Not you?" Seamus asked.
Taka shook his head, "No, but Soothsayer Anya is our matriarch. I'm sure she will have much to say." Taka winked at Seamus and then gestured with his gaze to an elderly woman who puffed on a pipe on the stair of a barrel wagon5. "But that injury", gesturing to El, "looks like it will need some rest. Please, any friend of Kit is a friend of ours. Eat and rest. You can visit with our Soothsayer in the morning."
Seamus nodded, "Thank you, that is very kind. I'm not sure we'll be able to stay. We've been hired to shepherd someone on to Stavaki." Seamus pointed to Tijana.
Taka shrugged, "We won't keep you if you wish to keep moving, but there's not a creature in Ebonvale that would go against the Soothsayer. You may not want to be on the road with the moon out like that." Taka pointed to the moon coming up over the horizon.
Seamus nodded, "We are most grateful". He bowed again, "I'll discuss with my companions."
Since Elwood had come to consciousness, he had attempted to convince Fareflynn to carry him in a smaller form, "I can be a mouse, or a bird, and you can carry me to Stavaki."
Fareflynn hushed him, "I'm much better equipped to care for you as a human. Rest now."
Seamus approached the fire to share the news of their host's offer, "We are welcome to spend the night in their camp, and share in their meal."
Tijana was shocked, "Who is the smaller fellow to you? How do you know the Velara?" Her shock turned to suspicion and concern, unconsciously taking a step back.
Fareflynn was quick to explain, "Kit. We met outside the mists. I wasn't aware of his ties to the Velara." She fed El from a water skin and did not turn to look at Tijana behind her.
"They saved him, you know," Seamus added, speaking more to Fareflynn than Tijana, "Before we even met the lad."
"Truly?" Tijana eased back in, seeking confirmation.
Seamus nodded, "We attempted to enter Ebonvale with him, but he ran off."
"Coward," El echoed his shout from the previous day in a raspy whisper.
Tijana was confused, "The boy? Who saved you?"
Seamus stepped in, "He's referring to another. We came upon the mists as a group of five. When one ran off, Kit pursued him, so we were split up."
"Where is your fifth now?" Tijana asked.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Seamus replied. After a pause, he asked, "Are you willing to spend the night here? I'm told it's much safer than pressing on."
"If we are welcome..." Tijana replied.
"Good," Seamus nodded. "We're also invited to sit with their Soothsayer in the morning, but I feel like we've had enough predictions for the time being, eh Miss?" Fareflynn was standing and Sermus elbowed her in jest.
Tijana interjected, "I would not dismiss their offer. Just as my father has his games, their Soothsayer has her own eccentricities."
Seamus's jesting smile faded, "I see... I'll see about that meal." He turned to find Kit, who was still darting around in play, "Kit m'boy!"
They secured some portions of a hearty stew and prepared to bed down for the night by the fire. Seeing the clouds in the distance, Seamus places a dome over their bedrolls without specifying any particular names.
Elwood watched as the dome formed, "Sea-- Buster, what if someone were to read our names in your chalk? Would we not be in danger?" He sat up slightly, straining to meet Seamus's gaze.
Seamus tapped him on the shoulder in assurance, "My chalk is my script. Even if someone could decipher it, that's not how names work. Your name must be freely given to hold power. It's like trust."
Elwood seemed reassured as he collapsed over, "I see." Sleep took him quickly.
\ *
In the dim light of morning, Elwood was awoken by the sound of a cawing crow. The camp was already bustling with activity, and the smell of breakfast hung in the air. He had needed the rest. He still felt sore, but the foreign intrusions were gone and he was feeling clear-headed. El sat up and rubbed his eyes, taking in the sight of the Velara camp. Tijana sparred with a young elf. Seamus exchanged words with a similarly learned elf bearing a similarly holstered book. Fareflynn sat sharing a story with a group of children, detailing the exploits of a long-ago avatar of Lunara. Kit's attempt at a game of tag was cute, but an unwelcome distraction for children who were trying to listen.
Elwood stood and stretched, feeling the stiffness in his muscles. He was served a bowl of porridge from a passing elf and ate it greedily. The healing magic he received called upon his body's reserves, and he was famished.
As he finished, a quiet elf tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the wagon where the Soothsayer sat the night before. The elf went on to each member of the pack, granting the same quiet invitation. Tijana was spared this invite, but joined all the same.
The Soothsayer's wagon was dedicated to a single room that could morph to accommodate the needs of the moment. The walls were lined with shelves of curiosities, drying herbs, bundles of incense, and various other trinkets Seamus recognized as components for divination. The Soothsayer herself was an elderly elf, her hair a stark white and her eyes a deep blue. She sat at a small table with a deck of cards and a translucent sphere of glass.
"Come, enter so that I may share with you your fortune," she beckoned.
Kit was the first to enter, seemingly taking a familiar seat at her feet. She gave him a gentle pat on the head. The rest of the party followed, sitting on various stools and cushions around the room. The entrance seemed to shut with the rigidity of magnets finding their pairs, rendering the room dark but for a candle that hovered over the Soothsayer's shoulder.
"First, individual," she began, "Then collective." With a wave of her hand over the orb, the room was filled with a soft light coming from the glass and a fog that descended on the room from thin air. She gazed into the swirling shapes in her orb as she spoke.
Soothsayer Anya repeated the pat of Kit's head, "Kit, the lost one. You will do so much good if you never stop looking for home." Kit rubbed his head into her leg in an odd gesture of appreciation.
"Fareflynn," she continued, "Guided by her moonbeam. The familial curse that brought you here will never be as deep as your goddess's love." Fareflynn made a face that was a mixture of confusion and disbelief, bordering on disgust, and then caught herself in what she thought might be a rude display. She nodded in reverence, hiding her embarrassment.
"Seamus," she continued, "Our explorer. The knowledge you seek is carried just as much by books as by the wisdom within others. You need both to find the paradise you see in your dreams." Seamus's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He nodded in understanding, clearly impressed.
"Elwood," she continued, "Our stoic leader. Vengeance upon the traitor will never bring as much satisfaction as righting his wrongs." The sadness that always seemed to bubble beneath El's surface was brought to the fore. He nodded in agreement, meeting her gaze and no longer hiding his pain.
"They call me fortune teller," she continued, "But I did not expect to see you, Tijana, cyclic soul of the greater ego". Tijana's eyes widened. "Your pain knows many lifetimes. You have found your guidance toward peace, if you can endure war." Tijana's face showed her confusion.
"I see another in your shadow," she continued, "the swayed soul. Do grant them your faith when they return. They will have fought through much to find you." Seamus and Fareflynn shared a look of confusion.
Anya wafted away the fog from the room, looking across all at the table, a cheeky smile building on her face, "I do love to set a mood...But now on to the cards." She shuffled her cards dexterously, the flutter of the cards bringing those at the table back from their individual thoughts, and laid out five cards in a cross pattern6.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This collective reading is very likely to change as I flesh out later chapters.
Anya flipped the card to her left, "The Tome. This card tells of stories forgotten. The tales of old are the key to the future. I see a faceless man standing vigil in the mountains."
She flipped the card furthest from her, "The Warrior. This is a card of power and strength. There is a sword that harnesses the sun itself. It lies with the army of the dead, sworn to an absent master."
She flipped the card closest to her, "The Matron. The card speaks of a protective force of good. I see pretenders to guise of warmth and sustenance, where the true protector lies hidden."
She flipped the card to her right, "The Sheep. There are those that would help you yet. Liberate those bound to libation, and find clear-headed allies in the misled beasts."
She flipped the card in the center more slowly than the last, "The Chapel. Your enemy lays claim to a ritual he does not understand. Betray his union, face his wrath, and shatter his power. Or endorse it, and let his ignorance consume us all."
Tijana shivered and closed her eyes against some burdensome thought.
Anya gathered the cards and pulled an unseen cord that opened a skylight, letting in what passed for morning light in the mists. "But those are just cards, you know." She gave a wink and a smile, "I hope you find them helpful. Come back for tea any time you like!" She shooed them out of the wagon, each in a bit of a daze.
Another Long Road¶
On the road to Stavaki, Kit goaded Elwood to run ahead with him, like a young, energetic boy egging on an aging father. The two bounced away and doubled back in a dance that kept the levity of the camp alive. Tijana was lost in thought watching them, reflecting on the childhood levity she was never afforded.
Seamus leaned into Fareflynn, "So, what was that about with the familial curse?"
"She must be crazy," Fareflynn huffed.
"Her words for me didn't sound so crazy."
"I had a perfectly ordinary childhood, raised by my mother in Glintport."
"And your father?" Seamus prodded.
"A lying sailor who never returned from his voyage."
"That could be interesting," mused Seamus.
"Who knows. It's not like I can go ask my mother about it now. Perhaps I'll find out someday... What was your family like?"
Seamus looked up in recall, "Perfectly ordinary among families from my village. A farmstead for raising grain and livestock, scraping by with twelve brothers and sisters. I was one of several adopted, but that never made a difference to me maw. Nor did my elven heritage, but I put together what that would mean for my future."
Fareflynn interjected, "Your family isn't..."
"Elven? No. I would outlast the lot of them," Seamus continued, "I couldn't bear the thought of staying on the farm just to watch that happen, so I left. Half-elf as I am, if no accident takes me, I could live to another hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred years."
"A very different timeline, indeed," Fareflynn sighed.
"My youngest brother must be getting to schoolin' age now... Adventuring has a high turnover rate. You either die a hero or live long enough to see those around you fall for one reason or another... Could turn to villany," He gestured to the castle. "Maybe return to a homeland", He gestured to El, "But most don't get peaceful sunsets." He looked at Tijana, and then at Fareflynn, a sadness creeping over his face.
"That doesn't sound like a very happy ending," Fareflynn observed. Zoey gave a groan in agreement.
"Only if you're not in control," Seamus replied, resolute. "I need to be faster at the dome. That could've spared us in the storm."
Fareflynn's face contorted, "It looks so complicated."
"It is. With most magics of my sort, you can prepare something ahead of time if you have the right sacrificial bits."
"What do you need?" Fareflynn asked.
"Practice, for a start. That'll give me a feel for what I can use to store barriers. Like gold or a gem."
Fareflynn looked off into the distance, "Sounds expensive."
"The most powerful magics are. There's only so much you can do in the moment."
Some several hours into their travel, the pack happened upon a pair of spectral knights locked in combat. They were towering brutes that carried heavy weaponry. One wielded an enormous glaive, and the other a weighty flail.
The travelers slowed, fearing they might be seen and catch the ire of the knights. Within the span of ten minutes, each fought valiantly, wounding the other, but neither conceding the battle. A crow flew overhead, briefly distracting one of the knights, and the other took the opportunity to land a killing blow. His victim produced an unseen dagger and struck the seemingly triumphant enemy down with a blade buried between the plates of his armor.
Elwood slowly approached the fallen knights, only to trip on a familiar flail amid a rusted set of armor in the grass. He picked it up, large even for his towering frame, and swung it around experimentally. Seamus approached and gave a gentle kick to a broken and rusted helmet that lay nearby.
"I think we may have witnessed something that took place long ago," Seamus conjectured.
Elwood nodded, "And somehow this was spared the ravages of time."
"Would you use it?" Fareflynn asked.
Elwood looked at the flail in his hands, "I don't think I could. I'm not trained to lift such a weight."
Seamus gave a nod of agreement, "It's a powerful weapon. I could use one like it, but better one I can carry. I'd topple over just trying to lift it."
Narrator's Interlude¶
Count Kael Valekno is a devious ruler, a conniving splinter of the greater deity he fractured from. A whole deity might have made pacts with various followers, exchanging power for loyalty. This was common to many deities, regardless of overall alignment with good versus evil. This splinter, while powerful himself, had little power to offer others. Instead, he made gifts of the basic liberties that might be considered inalienable elsewhere.
Oh, you wish a shred of normalcy for your agrarian village? I can grant you that, but you must collect the names of your populace such that I may surveille them.
You wish to have a shred of peace? Or an education? I can grant you that, but you will be bound to my service for the rest of your days.
You wish to have freedom of movement? I can grant you that, but you may never speak of the history of a realm you once ruled.
You wish for an oasis from the depression that plagues your people? I can grant you that, but you may never aspire to greatness.
You wish for your prayers to reach your deity? I can grant you that, but you must watch as your family is wretched from His embrace.
Kael could creep into their minds and twist their thoughts to devise the gifts that would burden each of his subjects the most. A dictator can torture the body, but a tyrant can torture the soul.
The souls were the fuel that spared this splinter from fading into oblivion. The souls formed the mists that surrounded his realm, and separated him from the other splinters that may have brought a shred of balance. The souls in their captivity formed aberrations like clouds that turned corpses into the undead, and nature into a twisted mockery of itself as Wraithroot.
Fareflynn wasn't the first of Lunara's followers to be sent to Ebonvale to clean up the mess, but she was the first to do so without putting her own glory ahead of that of her goddess. She was also bound by a second form of destiny from her father's gift. The bastard hadn't bothered to leave a note when he departed, but what can you say? 'Sorry to have doomed you, but I had to trade my first born for my own freedom'? At least he got something out of the deal, unlike other absentee parents.
I can't quite say I was glad to be along for the ride, but I was glad to be coming into my own. Returning the undead to their rest was exhilarating. So much so that I was finally considering the possibility of a name for myself, and looking forward to the day I might be able to share it with the world.
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Not actually east, but you get the point. ↩
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That storm was unnatural, indeed. Less a weather phenomenon and more a manifestation of raw life force itself. This is what happens when you don't let souls escape your realm into the afterlife. Sometimes they grow violent seeking the next best form of life. A buried corpse will do, but a living one is that much better. And it may take over if you don't banish it in time. ↩
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In their language, this is more like a title. Like Father, or Elder. It was a position reserved for more superstitious cultures, but still one of respect. ↩
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In his tongue, there are a couple words he could have chosen, but he happened to pick the one that also means curse ↩
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She was an unbelievably rare sight for her kind. When you can live to be 400 years or more, the only way for time to take you is by becoming a hermit, completely removed from all risk. 400 years leaves a lot of opportunity for accidents. ↩
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It's clever, really. The mayor had his cups but the Soothsayer had her cards. The Devil wouldn't permit her to be an outright enemy, but he couldn't deny a Soothsayer her fortunes. ↩