Episode 6: Encounters, part I
Written by: Auraboo
Back to the Archive | << Previous | Next >>
Summer had taken a turn towards fall almost overnight, it seemed. Morning light had turned a shade of gold that spoke of shortening days, and the air turned misty every time Luzem exhaled, though the forest meadow where they’d set up camp was lush and green with life. There was a bite to the air that sent him shivering as he got changed and washed his face in the nearby stream, which immediately lifted his spirits. He liked this time of the year, the in-between of two seasons slowly blending together so gradually that you didn’t see the changes until they had you surrounded.
There was no mistaking the change in the air, though. Already he could smell it, the approach of autumn, even if the world remained otherwise unchanged in his eyes.
He had gotten a fire going by the time there was a quiet rustling among the trees and a white wolf strode on the clearing, carrying a dead hare by the scruff of its neck. Luzem only smiled without ceasing his humming. The sight had become commonplace enough that he rarely reacted to the appearance of wild animals with alarm. He turned his attention back on the small copper pot where bits of root vegetables were already boiling. When he looked up again the wolf was gone, and his elder sister was walking towards him, hare cradled in her arms.
”The other one got away,” she lamented as she sat down next to him, already reaching for the paring knife. ”Something’s got the animals on edge.”
”A bear, maybe?”
Tariya shook her head. She looked as scruffy as he felt, a telltale sign that they had kept to the wilderness for weeks on end. ”I couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. The most recent scent marks were at least a week old.” She made a quick work of draining the blood and started skinning her catch with nimble fingers, but Luzem could read unease into her body language. ”Whatever it is, I think we should move on.”
”About time we head back to civilization, I suppose,” Luzem said, glancing at the pot. ”Those were our last rations anyway.”
They cleaned up as soon as they had eaten. Luzem had learned to trust his sister’s instincts in the years they had spent together since their reunion, noticing very quickly that she was rarely wrong when it came to reading the weather or the behaviour of animals. That she was so visibly restless wormed its way underneath his skin, too, and he kept a close watch on their surroundings as they left the sheltered copse where they’d spent the night.
Sun climbed higher on the sky, Luzem trailing after Tariya and trying to mimick the way she tread silently even through the thickest undergrowth. He still felt clumsy with her, an infant barely in control of his own body, the years spent away from the grove having left their mark in him in ways he hadn’t even fully understood until much later. He may have left Llavarron and mother nearly three decades ago, but the damage was done: his feet had grown up calling the maze-like cobblestone streets home, the woods only an echo of a childhood barely remembered. There was a bitterness to it that Luzem feared would never leave, and he could not help wondering what he had lost in the years apart.
It took nearly two hours for them to reach the lighter parts of the woods, where spruces made way for birches, oaks, willows and maples. To hear the rustling of the leaves was a relief in the absence of animal sounds.
”Still nothing?” he asked in low tones, frowning when Tariya shook her head. She had chosen not to shift, which alone told him she was tense, a trap ready to spring at the first sign of danger. ”Could it be the old sinkhole?”
”Maybe,” she said uncertainly, then stopped. She pulled off her boots, tied the laces together, and let Luzem hang them from her rucksack. ”I want to take a look. Stay close.”
She could have been a ghost, the depressions her bare feet left in the moss the only indication someone had been there. She lead them slowly between mounds of soil, overgrown with grasses, shrubs and enormous carpets of emerald green moss. Here and there remains of weathered stone jutted out of the soil, mementos of the village that had stood there before the earth had collapsed and taken most of the town’s buildings with it. Such occurrences had not been uncommon in the area before its occupants had realised the soil was too soft for mining, and little by little trees had reclaimed the abandoned towns and farmlands. Mellanath was young as forests went, only some 200 years, the forest soil dotted by ruins of yore that had vanished in all but name over the years.
The sinkhole made a strange sight. From afar it looked as if the earth simply vanished; one might have believed you’d reached a steep cliff unless you stood on the edge and looked down into the hole. It was so wide that the other edge was nigh on invisible even for elven eyes, and trees had grown all around the rim. When it rained heavily the depression resembled a lagoon, a strange green lake from which lichen-covered support beams and half-collapsed pillars still jutted out.
”It looks undisturbed,” Luzem said as he stood beside her, eyes scanning the sinkhole for any changes. It had been dry for weeks and the roof of the old temple was clearly visible.
”Someone’s been here,” Tariya said, nose twitching. ”Can you smell that?”
”Smell what?”
”It’s acrid. Almost like…” She fell silent and grabbed his arm, squeezing hard. Her voice was hushed when she went on, ”there! The temple, do you see it?”
They crouched as one, Luzem’s hand flying to the handle of his sword. The temple entrance was covered with layers of sand, earth, rocks and moss, yet it shifted as though something was pushing straight through the rubble. They stared at it without daring to blink. The earth settled and seconds passed in silence. Luzem finally caught the whiff of smoke as the roof of the temple seemed to quiver like sand under the desert sun, and a heartbeat later something materialised from solid rock, something that flailed and uttered a very audible, ”shit!”
Not something, someone. The figure lost its balance on the tilted roof and tumbled back first into the undergrowth, swearing the whole way down.
”Oh dear,” Luzem said, grimacing. The landing had looked painful even at a distance. ”Should we check if they’re okay?”
Tariya was still holding on to his arm. ”I’ve never felt magic like that,” she whispered. ”Let’s be very careful.”
Someone was still sputtering curses as they trudged slowly down the sloping hill, watching where they put their feet with even more care than before. The person had fallen into a crevasse between collapsed pillars; a leather satchel had caught onto a tree branch, swinging lightly above its owner. A head full of curly brown hair and a pair of horns appeared seemingly out of nowhere while Luzem watched, pine needles sticking out of a short ponytail. A hellning man, Luzem realised; his skin was a light shade of red, his horns resembling those of a ram.
”Bloody fucking Hells,” the man muttered to himself, straightening.
Luzem cleared his throat. ”Um, excuse me. Do you need help?”
The man froze. He looked and sounded thoroughly done when he said, ”great. Of course I’d have an audience with my luck. You didn’t happen to miss that tumble just now?” When Luzem shook his head, the hellning let out a world-weary sigh. ”This is definitely not my day. Do you think you could get my bag down for me?”
”Sure. Can you get out of there on your own?”
”I’ll manage.” He pinched the bridge of his nose wearily, eyes squeezing shut, and stepped through solid rock as though it were water.
Tariya gaped at him as he rematerialised, dusting soil off his trousers. ”You’re a warlock!”
Luzem was standing on his toes, trying to untangle the satchel from the branch. ”Come again?”
”A warlock! Hellnings have no magic – the only way they can learn any is through a pact.” Curiousity now mingled with wariness as she looked at the man. ”Warlocks are rare. I’ve never met one of your kind before.”
The hellning gave her a quick once-over. ”Let me guess. A herbalist? Witch? Druid?” When she nodded at the last one, he relaxed visibly. ”Ah. That makes this slightly less weird. Fear not, I’m not going to eat your babies, steal your liver or sell your remains to a necromancer.”
”Am I missing something here?” Luzem asked uncertainly as he handed the man back his satchel.
”Warlocks earn their magic from gods in exchange for their own souls,” Tariya explained so matter-of-factly that she could have been pointing out mildly interesting shapes in the clouds instead. ”Some people seem to think it makes them dangerous. You have pine needles in your hair, by the way.”
”You don’t seem very afraid of me,” the hellning pointed out, now smiling wryly.
”It’s just superstition. People say the same things about rot druids,” she said. ”Did you get hurt? I can patch you up should you need it.”
”I don’t think there’s a cure for a bruised ego, but thank you all the same.”
”We should get going,” Luzem interrupted, glancing at the sky. It was a brilliant blue without a hint of clouds, sun high above the trees now, and he knew the day would be warm. ”Neither of us had a big breakfast, and I’m not entirely sure how far the nearest town is. Best make tracks so that we get there before nightfall.”
”Lower Mellanathin? It’s less than two hours by the road, if you don’t drag your feet,” the hellning said. ”If you don’t mind company, I could walk you there.”
”Are you sure?”
He shrugged. ”I already got what I came for. I wouldn’t mind sleeping somewhere warm before I go on my merry way.”
Climbing out of the sinkhole proved much more arduous than climbing down. Tariya shifted back into a wolf and bounded up with her tail wagging, leaving the other two to trail behind her. The hellning was clutching at his side as they reached the top, panting heavily, and accepted the waterskin Luzem extended him graciously.
He tried not to stare when the wolf nipped at Luzem’s sleeve meaningfully and he climbed on her back with such uncanny ease that it was obvious this was routine for them. The wolf did not seem to mind his weight, for she moved lightly, and the hellning had to speed up to keep up with them.
”Was it true what she said? About warlocks not having souls?” Luzem asked when the treeline thinned and a sanded road came to a view for the first time.
”No sense beating around the bush, huh?” The man grinned at the sudden panicked look on his face. ”Relax, I’m not offended. Yes, it’s true. Gods demand a price for their blessings.”
”Does it hurt, being soulless?”
The hellning actually laughed at that. He had a boyish voice, merry and wild, and rather sharp teeth that glinted whenever he smiled. ”Do I look like I’m in pain?” He shook his head and went on, ”all it means is that there is no afterlife waiting for me once my mortal days are spent. My soul will go to the Beyond to be with my god. It’s not such a bad deal if you think about it.”
”I… I see.”
He decided to change the subject, seeing how the elf had visibly paled. ”The name’s Kae, by the way.”
”I’m Luzem, and this is Tariya.” Luzem patted the wolf’s neck fondly. ”Well then. Where to, sir Kae the warlock?”
Kae laughed again.
Lower Mellanathin was one of the many small, quaint towns in the region that mainly lived from agriculture. With the harvest season in full swing the town was packed to the bursting, and the matron of the town’s only inn kept apologising over and over for the lack of accomodation options.
”I’m afraid we’re almost fully booked until next week. One double was vacated this morning, one of our smallest – two single beds, three meals included. It’s right next to the dining room, so there is unfortunately some noise. Other than that, all I can offer you is the hayloft,” she said apologetically, eyeing the three of them with some pity. ”I’ll only charge for the meals should you wish to sleep in the barn instead.”
Kae and Luzem glanced at each other. Tariya was not paying attention to the conversation whatsoever: there were cats roaming freely around the reception room and she’d squatted down to pet them, handing them treats from a bag Kae had pulled out of his satchel.
”That’s hardly an issue, ma’am. I can make do with a broom cupboard if need be,” Kae said and nodded towards his new acquaintance, adding, ”save the double for the young couple here instead.”
”Certainly, if you’re sure,” the matron said, nodding. ”Just a moment, sirs, I need to fetch the keys.”
She turned at her heels and bustled to the back room, tucking flyaway hairs behind her pointed ears.
Luzem coughed, looking thoroughly embarrassed. ”I should probably mention that we’re siblings, actually.”
Kae blinked. He stared at Luzem, then at Tariya kneeling on the floor behind him and cooing at the cats, and only just managed to keep himself from swearing out loud. Luzem looked every inch as uncomfortable as he felt.
”Ah. I, uh. Apologies.”
”Don’t mention it. Happens all the time.” His tone was so full of weary acceptance that Kae had no trouble believing him. ”We’ll gladly take the room, though, if you’re sure you’re all right with that?”
”I don’t mind. I grew up on a farm.” Kae leaned towards him as the innkeeper returned and counted the coins they’d produced on the counter. He kept his voice low as he muttered, ”and I am sorry. Teaches me to make assumptions about people.”
Luzem laughed awkwardly. ”I took no offense. I know we look nothing alike.”
”Hmm. I wouldn’t go that far, personally.”
Now that Kae knew what to look for, he could see the similarities, minuscule though they were for the untrained eye perhaps. Tariya was darker than her brother, her olive skin a stark contrast to the golden eyes, their hue the same amber as Luzem’s. The same shape, the same creases as they smiled. That only one of them had magic was what threw him off the most, but he could not sense an inkling off the arcane coming off of Luzem. He was as mundane as an elf could be, where his sister was decidedly not. She was so enveloped with magic that being near her was like standing at the epicentre of an earthquake.
”The first door to the left, then just around the corner, room 5. Dinner is served in two hours. I heartily recommend the casseroles,” the innkeeper said. She handed Luzem their keys and turned to Kae, saying, ”and of course you’ve free access to the baths here in the main building, sir. I’ll come and show you where you can stay.”
”Thank you kindly, ma’am.”
Luzem tapped him on the shoulder before he could leave and said, ”will you be joining us for dinner?”
Kae looked taken aback for all of three seconds before he managed to conjure another smile. ”Sure, if you’ll have me. It’s been a while since I’ve dined in company.”
Two hours later there were delicious scents wafting out of the dining room. Luzem had secured them a corner table away from the worst of the hustle and bustle, for the room was just as busy as the rest of the town, and he kept a close watch on the doors over the heads of other guests. Even so he almost missed Kae as he came waltzing in – the man was lithe and not very tall, which was rather typical of Hellfolk. Luzem waved when Kae glanced their way.
”What a crowd,” Kae said by the way of a greeting as he sat down opposite of the two elves some minutes later, setting down his tray.
”It’s a shame you can’t try this,” Luzem said, eyeing the heap of root vegetable casserole on his own plate. ”The matron wasn’t kidding. The food’s excellent.”
Kae made a noncommittal noise that he hoped sufficed for an answer. He’d forgone the casseroles and allowed the kitchen staff to fill his bowl with wild game stew, accompanied by a platter of cold meats. It was easier than the truth, which would only rouse uncomfortable questions, and he wasn’t in the mood for that conversation with people he’d likely never see again. That Hellfolk were carnivorous was a well-known fact, at least in the northern parts of the continent, though this particular limitation no longer applied to him.
That he made a face as soon as he took a bite off salted pork went largely unnoticed, thanks to Luzem fussing over Tariya’s plate at the same time and placing the spoon back in her hand as she made to shovel more casserole into her mouth using just her fingers. The way she held her utensils was oddly stiff, as if she wasn’t used to them, and Kae tried not to stare as her brother sliced a steak and peeled her turnips for her.
They had both freshened up, Tariya’s hair now on a neat plait down her back and all signs of presumably days, if not weeks on the road washed off, but something still struck the warlock as funny. The clothes, perhaps; what she had changed into looked several sizes too big for her, or that the two of them appeared equally bewildered by the amount of people around them.
She still had her eyes on the other diners when she suddenly spoke up, and it took Kae a moment to realise she was addressing him. ”You never said what you were doing in the ruins. Back when we found you.”
He washed down the tang of iron with water. ”Investigating. The one I serve,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening in, ”is interested in preserving lost knowledge. There is a whole network of tunnels still underneath the old village, connected to the mine shafts. What survivors there were had no means of retrieving anything from the collapse. My benefactor hazarded a guess there might be something worthy of salvaging in the deeper parts.”
”A sinkhole is never quite stable, no matter how much time passes,” Luzem said. ”Yours is a very dangerous job.”
”Curiousity killed the cat, but many a cat would claim one life of nine is worth the satisfaction.” Kae flashed him a smirk. ”You know the temple ruins there were dedicated to Lietar, the goddess of the deep? They say the survivors swore off her name for not preventing the calamity and turned to Inrifael instead. The ruins were full of paraphernalia related to the old faith – items of arcane importance from a past the locals prefer to forget.”
”So did you find anything?” Tariya asked, cheeks bulging with food.
”I did. Whether it has any value, though, remains to be seen. There wasn’t much that survived the collapse in one piece.” He finished the water in his glass and said, ”may I ask you a question in return?”
”What about?” Tariya replied.
”The longer I look at you, the less I can tell where you’re from. You’re not really Woodlanders, are you?”
”Yes, and no.” It was Luzem’s turn to smile. ”Our father was a Woodlander. Our mother was born in Llavarron, south-west of the Altùin moors.”
”Curious. Not a common match, that.”
”No,” Luzem admitted. ”It is not.”
It was not often that Kae entertained company on the road, but the conversation flowed effortlessly between them, which took him by something of a surprise. He could tell the elves were not accustomed to companions, either, yet they bade him good-night warmly as he left, the dinner sitting heavy in his belly.
He didn’t regret the choice of sleeping in the barn as he spread out his travelling cloak over a hay pile and plopped down on it, causing one of the barn cats to dart out. The memories the scent roused were hazy and comfortable, little more than flashes of lying on his back and peering up at the stars through the dusty old ceiling window. Kae fished out of the satchel his journal and a cracked, spherical object that might have snapped off a ceremonial sceptre, turning the thing this way and that. Worn symbols wove around it. If he concentrated he could just make out the faintest touch of magic that had once lingered in it.
Kae set the notebook and the object between his crossed legs, pulled back his left sleeve, and pressed two fingers against a circular scar above his wrist. A hum of power shot through him as he tapped into the tether binding him to his patron-god, and his eyes closed automatically as a familiar presence surrounded him.
’Well?’
’It seems Lietar’s protection had waned even beyond our earlier hypotheses. There is nigh a trace of it left, but I’ll let you be the judge. Perhaps you can gleam more off of it than I.’
He thought he could almost see them frowning. ’Doubt it. Her influence in the mortal realm has grown weak for centuries; not even the Peace-bearer has been able to draw her out of her slumber. There is nothing of importance to be found if you cannot detect it.’ There was a pause as the deity thought. Kae could read frustration into their words when they said, ’I need to consult my sources. I shall contact you should I require you again.’
Their presence vanished before Kae could respond. He let out a groan and rolled over on his stomach. A lone lantern kept him company late into the night, the sound of his pen scribbling against paper the only sound.
Back to the Archive | << Previous | Next >>