The Withered King

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The Withered King Page 17

by Victoria, Ricardo;


  “I’m sure you and Alex and Harland will figure out something,” Gaby winked at Sid, trying to calm him down. He tried to smile, but it was clear his mind was already making the calculations of their real probabilities. “Meanwhile, you better start patching up the Figaro. Alex, you are the only other person here that can work the relays of the electric system to implement the recharging process using the crystals at hand. Harland, can you lend a hand to Sid with the repairs? Maybe the AI and the computer systems? They seem to hate him but maybe you could reach an agreement with them.”

  “Sure. What are you going to do?” Harland asked her.

  “I will find Fionn.”

  “I hate to be the one saying it, but he was not healing during the fight. His Gift failed.” Alex interjected in a whispering voice. Sam wasn’t paying attention, as she was sitting on a crate by herself, seemingly lost in her thoughts. “The odds of him being alive are not good.”

  “He is alive,” Gaby replied with a determination that not even she knew where it came from.

  “How can you be so sure?” Harland said.

  “I just simply know.” Gaby walked towards Sam. She had been silent since the crash-landing. Gaby put a hand on her left shoulder and broke her out of her reverie. “Sam, are you coming with me to search for Fionn? You know this place better than me.”

  “Ah, yes, of course,” Sam said, looking up. “Let me just gather some water and medical supplies. We will need them,” Sam replied.

  Gaby had to give credit to Sam. Despite being still in shock after what happened to her father, Sam had the presence of mind to think of the needs for a rescue mission. In her experience, people in shock became muddle-headed at best, and unresponsive at worst. Fionn had taught her well to remain collected. Gaby appreciated that as it would make things slightly easier.

  “Of course. We will leave when you are ready. Sid, can you help her, please?” Gaby said, with a tone of voice that made it clear she was not asking for a favor, but was giving orders. Sid just nodded and went inside the Figaro with Sam. Gaby’s expression must have hardened for the samoharo to comply without one of his usual complains. Then she called Alex to come closer.

  “I need you to lend me your hoodie.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Alex took it off and handed it to her. “What for?”

  “I just need it, it’s getting colder, I guess,” Gaby hated lying to her friend, mainly because he rarely fell for it.

  “Yeah, right,” Alex replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I know when you are lying, Galfano. You are expecting to use that thing you do and the hoodie would be a tether of sorts to bring you back.”

  Alex only used her last name when he was really serious or mad at her. They had been friends for a decade, maybe a bit more, and they had developed their own way to communicate.

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. But if it does, then we will be thankful for you lending me this.”

  “C’mon, you know as well as I do that it could not work. We’ve been there before. And back at Ravenstone, it took too much time to get you out of that trance. The more you use it, the more it takes to bring you back. That technique is cursed.”

  “I know the risks. And you say that as if it were something from a fairy tale.”

  Alex raised his voice, startling Harland, who started to approach them.

  “Well, maybe it is. Like that child’s tale about the maiden turned into a statue that was brought to life by the kiss of her true love.”

  “Aren’t we a bit old to believe in fairy tales?” Gaby muffled a laugh.

  “We have survived incursions, we have weird powers, legendary weapons and have been traveling the past days in the company of a former soldier that puts the ‘living’ into ‘living legend’ and kinda lives up to it. Plus we have a magus and a flying ship. A fairy tale wouldn’t be out of place.”

  “You make a good point,” she conceded. “Regardless. I will be fine.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you, chasing your hunch?”

  “It’s not a hunch, I’m certain,” Gaby said, her tone of voice leaving no room for argument. “And no, you need to stay here. Harland is not much of a fighter, we still have an injured magus in the med bay and apart from Sid, you are the only one who knows the Figaro inside out. He can’t fix it without your help, and we need the ship ready as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Who died and made you a leader?” Alex said and by his expression, and the way Gaby winced, realized he had put his foot on his mouth, again. “Too soon? I’m sorry. You know I’m not good at social skills.”

  “Just be glad Sam didn’t hear you. Learn to read the room, León.” Gaby gave Alex a weak slap in the head. “And take care, I need you to be alert to keep alive those two and the patient in the med bay.”

  “Aye aye, captain!” Alex replied, embracing his friend.

  Gaby and Alex did a fist bump and Gaby turned her back, walking to the edge of their improvised camp, but keeping Alex still within earshot, while Harland approached him.

  “Is she going to be alright?” Harland whispered to Alex.

  “I hope so.”

  Gaby heard Alex’s reply and the concern behind it. But at that moment, she was more worried about finding Fionn. To make sure he was still alive. The second realization of her day was that her heart ached when she thought of Fionn. But why? They’d only just met each other a few days ago, and most of the things she knew of the guy were from the books Alex had lent her years ago. From the outside, he was a legendary figure, a hero. But there was something else that she hadn’t told anyone, not even her best friend. It was even difficult for her to admit.

  When she had the dreams that led her to Professor Hunt’s house, she wasn’t dreaming about what happened to the poor guy. She had been having dreams about Fionn for months, for reasons she couldn’t understand. Some were of things mentioned in the history books, others of things that hadn’t been recorded. All were blurry memories and they had come out of the blue. But after several weeks, they made him feel familiar to her. So when they finally met in person, she had felt a connection to him, one that she had never felt before. He had been close guarded, but he had accepted her in their adventure without questions, welcoming her as an equal. And they needed him to stop what was going on. But they would need to find him first and help him. With any luck, his Gift would be working now and maybe he would be healing. She had to hope that was the truth.

  Gaby pulled up the zipper of the hoodie and secured her blades in the holsters tied to her back. She put her hand inside the pockets of the hoodie. It was starting to feel cold, like that night at Carffadon. It was a bad omen. They needed to hurry.

  Sam came out of the ship, with a backpack full of supplies. She was smiling. Gaby assumed that Sid had cheered her up with his peculiar sense of humor. Probably making fun of Alex, based on the way Sam eyed him. Sam reached Gaby.

  “Now where?”

  “Based on Fionn’s trajectory when he fell, probably near the base of the rock where Ravenstone was. Can you lead the way, Sam?”

  “I think so.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter 12

  On the Trail of Asherah

  Sam was dragging her feet. She was trying to orient herself. Gaby felt that they had been walking in circles for hours and yet they had been walking straight. The Maze had its name well earned. It was confusing even for the freefolk that had walked in the place for generations since the Dawn Age.

  “Are you ok, Sam?”

  “Yes. Just… just trying to feel the flow of the magick energies that are attracted to the crystals located at the base of the school. It’s the only way to get a sense of direction here. If I try to navigate through conventional means we will get lost for who knows how long. Maybe till we are elderly ladies.”

  “That would be
bad.”

  “Yup. But don’t worry. I might be rusty, but I do remember how to use the freefolk techniques to move around the place. It’s part of our culture after all,” Sam replied. Gaby could sense the nervousness hidden in her voice. She had been taught to notice things like that. Sam was worried about her dad, but that was to be expected, even shared.

  Gaby looked around. The walls of the canyon seemed to be growing. It was hard to see the sky, just a blue line at the top of the grey stone. Dimwik lizards scurried away when they got close. The corridors were peppered with moss and limestone ruins. Gaby wondered if they were remains of the ancient freefolk kingdoms that ruled here ages ago, before their fall. But their design didn’t look similar to the one used for Ravenstone.

  “Are these freefolk ruins?” Gaby asked Sam, pointing at a half arch close to a dying tree.

  “No. They are Akeleth in origin. But we used them at first until we started building our own. We left them here as they are part of the place.”

  “So, why is this place so important to the freefolk? I mean, aside from being a safe location to learn magick. It doesn’t seem to have much in terms of food or resources.”

  “It is the birthplace of our people,” Sam explained.

  “Birthplace?” Gaby asked, confused.

  “Not in a biological sense. More in a cultural or spiritual way,” Sam explained, with a wave of her hand.

  “That sounds interesting. Can you tell me more?”

  “Are you trying to keep me distracted while we search for my dad?” Sam smiled.

  “Would it be wrong to do so?” Gaby smiled back. Sam was clever. She had to be to have gotten an advanced degree in a difficult field of study at such a young age. It intimidated Gaby a bit, since she was a college dropout. But the chat was as much for her sake as for Sam’s. It helped Gaby to keep her anxiety at bay. Maybe Alex’s bad habits had been rubbing off on her again. “I mean, you are worried and probably in shock. I get it. I feel the same. But I can’t do this without you so I think a bit of talk will help us to release some tension.”

  “Sounds like a psych major. Did you study that?”

  “In a way. The Sisters of Mercy did teach us psychology, you know, to better understand and manipulate people. And I tried to continue at college but never finished.”

  “Sounds like a delightful place to be,” Sam replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “The Sisters of Mercy, I mean. I have heard tons of rumors about them.”

  “You have no idea nor heard half of it. Anyways, you said the Maze is important for freefolk culture as your birthplace.”

  “Way to deflect.” Sam laughed. “But it’s ok, I like sharing my culture. It’s not just the Maze but the whole World’s Scar. Legend says that after the Battle of the Life Tree, at the Dawn Age, the three species: human, samoharo and freefolk had to leave the Tree and travel across the Frozen Lands to colonize Theia. Humans took most of the planet soon enough and the samoharo, well, they are who they are and with their metallic birds conquered the whole continent of Ouslis, leaving no place for us. Back then the freefolk were outcasts, splintered in several small tribes, despite having been allies of the human and the samoharo during the battle.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we are different,” Sam replied, this time, her voice had a tinge of sorrow. “Now we are feared because we are the ones that can use magick with ease, as a second nature. Back then, the freefolk were shapeshifters. We had no gender, no discernable features beyond our eyes and a humanoid form. That scared the humans. They are still scared of us. The Great War showed us that. Most people blamed us for the power of the Horde but in reality, we were the first victims of it. Most of our people hid inside here for the duration of the war. Several fought with the Alliance, like my dad or Mykir, the inventor. The rest were tucked in internment camps or used as slaves by the Horde. But one of us, Peremir, really screwed us over. He fought for the Horde, he enslaved his own people and that gave us – and any magick user – a bad rep. Just one devious freefolk made the rest of the world be afraid of us. That’s why my dad takes very seriously the attacks on freefolk, despite him not being the most tradition-observant person. For him, having freefolk ancestry is a matter of pride. That’s why he took it upon himself to clear our name by fighting in the war.”

  “The more things change, the more they remain the same,” Gaby replied with a soft voice, shaking her head. Sometimes humans could be as bad as the monsters they fought. “And now his attitudes makes much more sense. It’s a heavy burden. But explain this to me, if you started as shapeshifters, how come now you look human?”

  “Let me finish the story,” Sam interrupted. “The legend says that one day, the Trickster Goddess appeared in front of Asherah, a young freefolk, the first ever magick user. The goddess told her to lead our people across the World’s Scar until they reached a promised land, signaled by a red and black raven resting in a stone. And so she did, helped by a small Montoc Dragon. The trek across the canyon took them through the Maze and forced them to fight creatures that feed on magick, parasites called Lurkers. The trip took a toll on freefolk as well, starting with Asherah. The more she used magick, the more she was locked into the form of a human girl. To save her tribe from those creatures, she sacrificed all she had been. She invoked, no, she created the first combat spells and that sealed her fate. By the time they reached the Promised Land, a good part of the tribe had followed her example and were now human-like. Over time, the rest of the tribes made the trek and transformed into what we are now.”

  “That must have been quite a shock,” Gaby said, musing on the story. She wondered if she would have the same strength if the time came to it.

  “Can’t say for sure,” Sam continued with increasing passion in her storytelling. “I mean, that should have taken place thousands of years ago. Asherah is a legend, the supposed first Dragonqueen. But no one is really sure she even existed. There are so few records. We tend to favor oral traditions so details get lost or changed. In any case, that event marked the birth of our nation. That’s the origin of our Pilgrimage, one of our most sacred traditions. It is said that every freefolk should connect with the spirits of our ancestors at least once in their lives, to recall why we are a strong people and our origins. We do that through the Pilgrimage. I mean, we can’t shapeshift now, but you can see the signs of that ability in heavy magick users; weird hair colors, animal features and so on. The radiation still changes us but that’s why we can survive using it for spells. Humans just get fried from inside out without something to channel the energies. We might have intermingled with humans long enough to be as one global civilization, but deep down we are still outcasts looking for a home. The Pilgrimage reminds us of that and makes us stronger for it.”

  “Did you or Fionn take it?”

  “Me? Not yet, but it’s in my plans,” Sam explained. “Dad… as far as I know, he never did. After the war, he traveled with Izia, my great-grandmother, around the continent. I think he was still trying to clear the name of the freefolk by becoming a wandering hero, as silly as that sounds. He only settled after they became parents and returned to Skarabear. They never left the place till….”

  Sam paused, clearly finding it difficult to continue.

  “Till what?”

  “Dad never talks much about it,” Sam continued, her voice acquiring a somber, almost sorrowful tone. “I know Harland knows the exact details, he always does. Something happened a few months after the birth of my grandmother that made Fionn and Izia take on a last mission, leaving their daughter behind in the care of Fionn’s mother. But they never returned. I know that Izia died, and my dad disappeared for a long time, until he returned to civilization when Harland’s father found him. And by then he had changed. Harland says that he only returned to his cheerful personality when he adopted me.

  “It was lucky that your ancestor adopted you,” Gaby said with a smi
le.

  “Kinda, he was looking for his family –his descendants– and tracked my parents. But by the time he arrived, I was already orphaned.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sam shrugged her shoulders.

  “Don’t be. I love my parents of course. But I also love my Dad. The fact that we are blood-related is just one of many things that connect us. He is the best dad I could ask for,” Sam smiled when she said that.

  “So why did you grow apart, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “If you are asking that, it means he already told you part of it. Which is odd because he likes to bottle up things. He must really trust you.”

  “I guess we just connected.” It was Gaby´s turn to shrug her shoulders. But she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.

  Sam laughed, confusing Gaby. That was not the reaction she was expecting if any.

  “Anyways. I think that as I grew up, I reminded him more of Izia, at least physically. Everybody says that we look alike, aside from the hair color. I guess it came to a point where he fell into a depression due to the memories. It was roughly around the time I asked to be sent to Ravenstone to start learning magick in earnest. I wasn’t an easy teenager to deal with. I almost gave him a heart attack when I got my first tattoo! So a lot of things combined. It took me some time to understand everything.”

  “I know what you mean. You were angry. Sometimes when we are younger we have so much anger bottled up and take it out on people we love. I did it with my grandparents after I left the Sisters of Mercy. It took me time to let go all that anger and understand that my grandparents loved me. That they were nothing like my father, who had been the one to enroll me there.”

  “Angry? No,” Sam shook her head. “I was hurt. I still am. But he is still my dad and he’s been taking care of me. Heavens, I wish I could fix things with him.” She stared at the distance, concentrated. It was as if she had picked up some sort of track.

 

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