* * * * *
While Gerin’s history tumbled in his own mind, countless miles away another past was being spoken of among several party members, sitting comfortably around a dying fire.
“Why white Jeralyle? Don’t you know how dangerous it is?” Elryia asked, eager to learn about her new companion.
“It’s not so much a defiance, or an invitation for trouble…it’s more of a tribute.” He responded in a soft voice.
Everyone’s attention piqued but that was all that he said and it seemed that he was done talking for the night. A long silence loomed until Gort cracked it like a rock.
“This is quite a pair. We’ve got us two white mages; one who barely talks and one we can’t get ta shut up.” The grin on his face grew wide, until Elryia smacked his arm with a surprising amount of force.
Now with a smile just as exuberant she turned her attention back to Jeralyle, who still seemed reluctant to talk. “Go on, please. Ignore him. We all do. What is it tribute to?”
“My parents.”
Everyone went solemn and Elryia rested a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry…”
“…What?”
“Your parents. Tribute? They’ve passed, haven’t they?”
The Mage’s mouth perked, even almost erupted. “No, they’re alive and well. Just, they taught me to know the value of life and of sacrifice. They raised me to remember that as dark as things get, it may often be darker for someone else. I wear them in order to stay grounded and keep focused. I may lose my way sometimes, but when I look down at these robes—robes that were far more abundant hundreds of years ago and were used as a symbol of peace and hope—it helps me push forward.” He paused for a moment, his young face quirked, as he seemed a bit uncomfortable hogging all of the attention himself.
But Merial, intrigue on her face, scooted next to him and pressed on. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Often, yes, it leads to trouble from soldiers. That was not the first time I had found myself in a predicament like the one you rescued me from. But it also leads to understanding from others. People are more inclined to speak with you, or ask you for something they need when they see the robes. It’s like a friendly face for a complete stranger. That’s how I became companions with Gnert.”
Everyone stopped, except Jeralyle, and looked around; Gort demonstrated more attentiveness than the rest of them, “Where…did it go?”
Jer did laugh this time, “He’s around. Probably wandering in the forest. He’s harmless and he’s careful, for the most part. He gets a bit over-zealous sometimes.” No one amongst the group seemed a bit surprised by that. “It seems to be in his blood. That in truth is how it all started. He was working on a device that would climb trees, mountains, things of that nature while he sat in it. The machine worked fine, only Gnert was so excited to use it, he forgot to strap himself in one day when he was riding up an oak. When he fell out, the contraption—with no one to control it—fell and pinned him down. I was on one of my daily walks and I stumbled across him buried beneath a pile of metal and mesh.” Jeralyle glanced around again, idly searching for him. “That’s how his mind works, he can envision the most complex scenarios with ease, solve the most enormous problems that most people couldn’t comprehend, but he sometimes lets the details slip right past him. When I found him, he was panicking and only making things worse for himself so I had to dig him out. If I didn’t have my robes he most likely would have hurt himself out of fear that I would.”
From there, Gort began to drift off, staring at the fire and trying to avoid relating to the Gnome; even though he had—on more than one occasion—found himself trapped under piles of rocks. He laughed, thinking the Gnome foolish and frantic. He wandered further into his own mind, wondering what else a gnome like that could get himself into when a sudden crack snapped him back to reality. He shifted and turned back, thinking it an animal being curious, only to see a pair of huge eyes plastered on a tiny face, staring at him curiously and sniffing.
“GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY!” He yelped, the jolt sending him right off of the log and into the dirt. Shocked, he put one hand on the hammers that hung off his belt, entertaining the idea of aiming one at Gnert squatting on the log, then contemplating the idea of aiming one at any of the companions who couldn’t seem to stop laughing. He grumbled and made his way back to his seat, resisting the urge to chase the thing off like a stray dog.
“See?” Jeralyle remarked, “I told you he’d be back around.”
Elryia, laughter subsiding, shifted forward. “So what made you want to study magick?”
Jeralyle shrugged “I suppose that’s why me and Gnert get along so well. My mind works the same way, though with different things. I’ve always been fascinated by magick. The actual science of it: twisting and bending to your will what you think to be reality and creating something else from it. I leaned more towards the healing aspect just for its complexity. It’s quite easy to destroy something, to burn it down or smash it to pieces. You can do that with any number of tools. But to heal a wound or lift objects that not even the strongest person could; well, there are few things that allow you to do that outside of magick.”
The fire began to die, and the past day’s events had started to catch up to everyone. Gnert had long since disappeared again and Gort had grumbled his way into a laying position behind the log. Seeing it a good place to stop, Jeralyle stood and bowed cordially to everyone, “Thank you again for saving me, though I know it doesn’t express how truly grateful I am. Perhaps when we are rested, you will tell me more about yourselves.”
Elryia nodded and stood with him, watching the young mage walk off, feeling a slight sense of joy, glad to have someone that she could relate to. A step led her to the Elf, and she placed a gentle hand on Lanyan’s shoulder while he stared into the forest with his incomparable vision. “I’ll take first watch, El.”
She smiled and tried to stifle a yawn, shaking her head slowly, “It’s well, Lan. Get some sleep, it’s been a bit of a long week.”
Lanyan almost debated, but this was not the first time that a post was left unwatched. It happened quite often actually. And yet, every morning all awoke without incident. He wasn’t quite sure how, but he had spent too much time with her and escaped too many dire situations not to trust her. “As you wish. Goodnight El,” he said as she kissed him lightly on the head.
“Goodnight Elf,” she smiled, holding it for a moment as she turned every way she could, and then bowed gently—seemingly to no one but the forest.
In A Time Of Darkness Page 3