by P. S. Power
Then he had to focus, muttered and brought up a swell of music. No players, but the room opened up, showing an open sky, that was purple and gold, with a sun overhead, and the sea below. There was a sense of interest at least, as he continued, scene collapsing into movement of color, growing into a pure tone that underscored the music and existed as only light, for a time. The entire room vanished, and became something different, with a sense of peace pervading the entire thing.
The tunes changed, being driving and pulsing at one moment, and slowing into an almost silent thrumming that should, if done correctly, be louder for the energy beings. This, the whole thing, went on for a bit less than an hour, the room turning back into a well decorated stone room, at the end. Anders waited, the whole space being still, for a very long time.
There was no explosion of noise, but he hadn’t expected that at all. Instead, there was a calling out.
In at least ten languages.
“More! More! Again!”
Anders took that as being a good sign, so did another song, then waved to everyone.
“Please, all of you, feel free to visit with me, or these others, as you will. Also, Shaman Smidt? He recently discovered that not acting like you were monsters to be entreated for gifts was a good thing, or so I hear?”
The man himself was in the audience, and instead of glaring or acting put upon, put his right hand up, and then stood.
“Sorry, my friends! I’ll attempt to do better from now on. Forgive me?” If they did the room didn’t call out about it. Several of the beings floated his way, however.
Jonpries first, but also a half dozen others at the same time.
The large red being spoke first.
“That was most interesting! Grander than I thought a human was capable of, in fact. Will you be doing this again, in the future?”
One of the smaller green beings snorted, and then spoke in a familiar voice. In Yansian.
“Damning him with faint praise? That was amazing, Anders! I hope you don’t mind my coming? We seemed to part on good enough terms, last we spoke.” There was a tension then, not just from the one being, but from many of the others, their attention focusing on Anders so intensely that several of the people in the room looked scared.
He just smiled.
“Alder! Of course you’re welcome. In fact, I was going to invite Jonpries to a meeting after this? Perhaps tomorrow? There’s a small collection of assassins who keep trying to kill Eltha here, so I’m looking for advice as to how to deal with them. They have some friends like yourselves who are good oracles, I hear? I’m planning to remove them, the assassins, but don’t really want to anger those others, if possible.”
Alder didn’t say anything, but several of the others called out, which had two medium sized blue and one orange energy being floating over, almost instantly.
Jonpries spoke then, in ancient Modroc.
“Could you share that again, Anders Brolly?”
He did it, not knowing why these others had been called to them, specifically. Not until one of them... made a strange sound. Like the clearing of a throat. It was the orange one, and she sounded distinctly female. Also slightly annoyed.
“Well! We know who you mean, then. I fear that they truly haven’t been very nicely behaved of late. I’m their Goddess. I promise I haven’t been asking them to kill anyone. We told them the future, and even tried to explain that it doesn’t mean what they think it does, but they can’t understand that them being undone or changed isn’t a bad thing. They fear destruction, so are bringing it on themselves. It’s largely a language barrier. I’m out of date, as far as such things go, I fear.”
Anders froze, then smiled at the lovely orange lady.
“I... Think I understand. I could teach you modern Modroc? Or travel with you and explain things to them?” He sighed. “If we do that last one, it will almost certainly end up with them being wiped out. Even if I try to be polite. They’re a bit fanatical.”
The Orange lady, the Goddess, gave off a sense that was rather long suffering.
“No doubt. I’d... Like to save them, if I can? What cost would you ask for their lives?”
It was strange that the woman, the energy being, assumed that he was the one to be bargained with for that, not the other way around. No one called him a god, either. It probably meant she was polite, rather than weak.
He spread his hands.
“Honestly? If they could turn away from unneeded violence, that would be enough for me. One moment? Let me ask the Sulat here what he thinks on the matter.”
The man responded to his title, if not the ancient language being used.
“This being, the orange one, is the Goddess that the Blades worship. There seems to be a small language barrier happening, and she isn’t best pleased about all the killing. Would you be fine with letting the assassins reform, and keep their lives, if they stop doing that kind of thing? I did mention that I might have to destroy them if they won’t stop, but...”
Everyone there suddenly turned to him. Prince Erold bowed. Using second courtly. Toward the orange being.
“Goddess. Well met.”
Anders translated that, as the Sulat spoke.
“If we can guarantee they stop killing? At least doing no more of that than any group might?”
That was passed along, the Goddess bobbing in place.
“If we can? Thank you for allowing me to save my followers, Human Brolly. If we cannot do so, please make their deaths as painless as possible? I seek to ease the passing of all beings, as they transition to new states of being. It’s my true message.”
He nodded, and also spoke, not knowing if the energy people could understand such minor movements. Really, he needed to ask, but it didn’t seem the right time for such things, just then. Indeed, if he spoke about that kind of thing, it probably wouldn’t be with a Goddess.
“Yes. We will seek to save them first?” He looked at the Sulat, who nodded when he translated the question. “Then, if that doesn’t work, we’ll make their passing as painless as we can manage. First, are you willing to learn a new language? I have to imagine their own Goddess coming to them and explaining things clearly would be most impressive to them!” He’d never taught an energy being that kind of thing, but figured it was possible.
Alder had spoken about teaching his friends different skills. If that was possible, then a language should be.
What was interesting was that not only the Goddess and her two attendants, the actual oracles in question, offered to stay to learn, so did several others. Even Alder did, as well as Kines and Hollan. The only trouble was that they all seemed to think that starting in on that just then, right there in the grand hall, made some kind of sense. Anders chuckled and clapped his hands.
“Wonderful! We’ll start at first light, in Shaman Smidt’s plant house?”
That also worked, it seemed. Everyone that could float away left them, the room suddenly lacking a certain buzzing quality that hadn’t been noticed until it was gone.
Erold made a considering face.
“That was different. Do you think that they’ll warn their people to run?”
Anders didn’t really know. It was very possible, of course. What they needed to see was if they came back in the morning, for those lessons.
“Even if they do, that doesn’t mean they won’t work with us, if we handle things properly. Regardless, I need to sleep, and to work out how to teach people with no bodies how to speak a new language.”
He feared it might be difficult, in ways that he’d never considered at all before.
It was also interesting sounding, he had to admit. A thrilling thing that, even if he failed at it, would be worth trying. Instead of letting fear cripple him on the topic, he started to plan out a class, assuming that he could do it in a way similar to what he’d always done. If that didn’t work... Well, then he’d question Alder about how to do better. The man had taught that kind of being before, after all. If that didn’t
work, he’d connect with Far and ask him.
Doing the work himself, first, seemed a bit more masterful, so he decided to try that before begging for help. Not that pride was going to get in his way. What he didn’t do, didn’t allow himself to consider, was if the plan would be useful at all. It might well not, he knew. Past that, he didn’t think about it at all. It wasn’t a thing he could impact by worrying about it.
That took effort, which he placed into the class lesson for the next day. Right up until he finished his bow drawing exercises and started his nightly magical review. Then, in the shared room, he drifted off to sleep. Hoping that the new plan would work. Not that he dreaded killing people or anything. No, he truly didn’t mind that part at all.
What he did want though, was the good regard of the people of Modroc. Mainly because he feared that he truly didn’t have that, good regard, in any other land. In Istlan he was a killer magic user, so a person to dread. In Yanse he was the Warbow, who had wantonly slaughtered a hundred thousand good men. Apparently, at least some in Barquea wanted him dead. Possibly just to get him out of the way, which might not be that personal. It had sounded a bit that way when Liasa had mentioned it to him.
It would, he thought, be truly nice if there was at least one place in the world where he wasn’t hated, before he had a chance to win his true place. Even being unknown was better than being feared before he even met people.
That was let go, almost instantly. He was what, and who, he’d chosen to become. Lamenting that now was as useless as worrying about what a Goddess would tell her own followers. All he could do was hope that things didn’t go the wrong way, while readying himself to handle it, if it did.
With that cheery set of thoughts, Anders forced himself to sleep. Facing the day without rest wouldn’t benefit him, after all. Neither would being too pessimistic. That, pessimism, was harder to let go of, but he managed it, eventually. Before darkness took his mind.
Chapter twenty-two
Anders had expected there to be problems, teaching a new language to energy beings, of course. They were different individuals, as well as simply seeing the entire world in a fashion that he could barely comprehend. That said, what the real problem ended up being was nearly delightful, as to how simple it was to fix.
Devica, the energy beings, ghosts and nature spirits, didn’t have bodies. They still learned the memory techniques he put forward easily enough. None of them were special talents that way, but it clearly helped them learn the new words. What they didn’t have a good concept of was how a physical human being worked.
Which, in the end, wasn’t that important. He taught them the words in a way that made sense to them, as parts of a whole that could move or not, and left the concept alone. After all, most of them had been around for a very long time, and knowing a hand from a foot simply wasn’t going to change their lives at all.
Once he had that portion of things down, the rest of the lessons went fairly easily. That, in all, took about two months. It was slow, for simply learning a single language, but not cripplingly so. In that time, Anders practiced, healed up from the attack of light and fire and prepared himself for a war to the death with the cultists.
Then he rode out, with five hundred of the Sulat’s soldiers, all dressed in deep brown, the clothing made of decorated leather with chain mail over it, in what had to be a fashion that was brutal in the heat of the summer there in Modroc. Beside him were not only Erold and Eltha, but Jonpries and Alder Cohen. The two blue oracles, which were actually called that, the Blue Oracles, and the Goddess of Death, had gone ahead. To speak to her people and hopefully get them to change their ways.
Even after months of working with the friendly beings, Anders wasn’t certain they hadn’t moved out to protect their friends, or at least get them to flee, ahead of the small army that was riding toward them.
Some of the new information that he’d picked up from the energy people wasn’t that helpful, of course. For instance, while they were all aware that the Blades had been working in Barquea, and that they had people there as well, no one claimed to hold any special knowledge of dealings with important princes or princesses there. They also didn’t know of any silver trinkets that would kill large amounts of humans in light and fire. That, or hide them from the minds of a wizard or cast an illusion over them, that would fool anyone watching it.
It seemed a strange thing not to understand about those who worshiped you, at least to Anders, but Jonpries and Alder both seemed to trust that it was the truth, so Anders didn’t press in on that score, simply assuming it was a real enough thing.
It took two weeks of steady, rather forced, travel to reach the cave complex on the southern coast. Those were simple and rough-hewn things, not carved by magic or Devica at all. Not even by the use of stout tools, being of hard rock as they were. When they found the main entrance, they were met, by what seemed to be the Goddess, her Blue Oracles and every human being who lived there.
None of them wearing their death masks or holding weapons.
“Welcome! Please, we have food and clean water, come and join us!”
The woman who spoke seemed to be older, without being aged. Her hair was light in color, nearly white, with an unlined face. It was a sign that she was ridden by an energy being and had been for some time. Probably more than a century. Far had a similar look to him, at least.
Dismounting Juniper, Anders waved at the woman.
“Well met! I’m Anders Brolly. Let me introduce everyone, if that serves?”
The lady in the front smiled, as if meeting with old friends.
“That would be wonderful.”
It didn’t take long, since the masses of fighters, all looking on uneasily, didn’t come forward to share their names. No one tried to attack them or anything, either. Sarath, the lady who was in charge of the Blades, led Anders, Erold and Eltha inside, settled them on some rough pillows and sighed in their direction, as others there brought carefully prepared foods.
“First, please allow me to say how very sorry we all are. We... It’s rather embarrassing, but the Oracles, we thought they were telling us that we had to destroy you, Great One, and your consort, or else we would be led to ruin, ourselves. The Goddess came to us herself, two weeks ago and explained that we had misunderstood. That doing that, trying to kill you to solve our problems, was what would lead us to our doom. That a great power from the north had stirred, and would smash us without thought, if we did not give over those plans.” She shook her head. “So, we have. When the Goddess speaks, it is our place to listen.”
She waited then, as if expecting Eltha or possibly Erold, to call her names, or seek her removal from the world. At least she looked in those directions.
Anders simply nodded.
“Well, if you are giving up your old ways, for better ones, I think we can avoid most of those issues. Your Goddess spoke to protect you all, from past happenings. A lot of people aren’t too happy with you, but if you do as she demands, that will likely be repaired, in time.”
There was a bit of a glare, from the woman, then a slow, grudging, nod.
“It’s a bit of a shame, really. We were rather good at removing problems from the world. Still, that is the past. Now, I was told you might have questions for us? Specifically, that we had to answer honestly and fully, or you would probably destroy us, despite the pretty words you just spoke? The Blue Oracles were very clear on that. More so than ever before, in fact. They speak perfectly, now, of a sudden.”
There was no hint of suspicion in her tone, so Anders smiled.
“The future is hard to know that way, even for the very best of seers. It changes and warps, all around us, as our actions, words or even thoughts change. So, let’s try for something peaceful? I do have some questions, if that’s allowed?”
She’d just said it was, but he didn’t want to seem rude. Eltha, very clearly, nearly snapped at him, as if the woman were going to say it wasn’t, if given a chance.
Sarath
simply bowed her head.
“As you will.”
“You, your people, worked with some individuals out of Barquea, do you know who they are?”
That got a shrug. A heartfelt thing, it seemed.
“Not personally. We have agents there, and along the border, who made contact with some of the brats of the Sula there. They wanted power, or more to the point, one of them wants more power and used his own skills to take the minds of the others. Using the magic they all learn there? I don’t know the name, truly. It’s a man? Not their Heir, or so I was told. That’s all I have on that.”
Anders nodded, and smiled at the others.
“That... I hadn’t thought of that kind of thing. I’ve never learned to control the will of others, personally, so it never occurred to me to think about that. One person is behind this? We don’t know who, but that sounds much easier to deal with than I feared.” He’d thought it was most of them, truth be told. One enemy was, in the end, a single person.
Even if they hated him, personally, it was easier to bear than the idea that hundreds loathed him that way.
Focusing, he brought up a floating image of the small silver bracelet that Liasa had shown him. Several of the people in the room gasped and pointed at it, seeming fearful as it started to glow with a soft white light.
Sarath went white around the eyes and hissed.
“Treachery!” She started to stand, as Anders shook his head.
“Nothing like that. It’s only illusion. A seeming. Here...” With a wave of his hand, the thing vanished, and looking frightened still, the woman eventually settled on her brown pillow again.
“So, you’ve seen such magic before?”
That got a nod.
“We have. Necklaces, but the work was similar. That glow... There is a man who came, some fifty years ago now. He was friendly, and pleasant, but handed such trinkets out to any who wanted them. I was the leader here then as well. The Goddess didn’t think they were a problem at all. Then, one day, as we did our yearly trip into the city for goods, they began to glow. I nearly died from it, as did any who wore such a thing. Hundreds of others did as well.”