The Merchant of Nevra Coil (Legends of Windemere Book 8)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  *****

  Doctor Eltzer walks with a purpose through the wide halls of Zelacryd, the voices of a few screaming patients echoing off the blandly painted walls. The blonde-haired elf has become used to their outbursts, but her keen ears still pick out a few choice phrases that she jots down in her battered notebook. The loud banging of an enraged orc makes her stop at the heavily reinforced door and she hits a silver button on the quivering frame. Rainbow mist slips out from under the entrance before the doctor hears the dull thud of the patient falling to the padded floor. She whispers a small thank you to the gods, the doctor happy that most of her patients are well-behaved and showing signs of recovering from their magic-induced insanities. It is the hard luck cases that tear at the slender woman’s heart and she is on her way to check on the saddest of her charges.

  “How are my favorite patients today?” the Elven doctor asks as she approaches the male nurse guarding a shimmering door. She flips her notebook to an empty page, frowning at the sight of an impression from what she previously wrote. “It’s been a week since I last visited them, so I’m well overdue. Do you think the ladies are docile enough for talking today, Nurse Bola?”

  “They aren’t acting up, but I’d still tread carefully. You know how these two get when riled,” the deep-voiced dwarf replies. He bangs on the door and listens for the scuffling of movement. “Doctor Roda Eltzer is coming in. Be on your best behavior because I’ll be outside with the foam if either of you start trouble.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary, Nurse Bola.”

  With a squeak of the hinges, the door opens to a room that is surprisingly bright compared to the bland hallway. Several high windows look out to the smooth mountains that surround Zelacryd, several of the peaks topped with snow. The furniture is perfectly symmetrical with a bed, desk, and wardrobe positioned across from each other. A door in the middle of the back wall has a raindrop emblazoned on the front, a clear sign that it leads to a private bathroom. Plastered along the walls are pictures that range from childish scribbling of monsters to detailed depictions of battles. Doctor Eltzer stops to study a new drawing of a water giant battling a sand creature outside of a walled city. Leaning forward and squinting, the faint form of a woman can be seen inside the liquid beast.

  Sitting at the windows are the two patients, both women dressed in the standard white gowns of Zelacryd. Nyx has drawn a rainbow-colored tower on her clothes while Trinity has left hers immaculate. Instead, the chaos elf has painted purple gems on her forehead and palms. The women watch the doctor with a mixture of fear and confusion, neither willing to move away from the window. They whisper to each other while their violet eyes never stray from the doorway where Nurse Bola is standing with a hose. Trinity repeatedly pokes Nyx in the ribs, jerking her head at the doctor to get the half-elf to talk.

  “I don’t want to say it,” she hisses to the chaos elf. “You say it.”

  “They believe you more often.”

  “I got hosed down last time.”

  “Is there something you wish to share, ladies?” Doctor Eltzer asks as she pulls a chair out of her gray tunic’s breast pocket. The elf waves the vigilant nurse away and the door is closed, the dwarf’s eyes still visible through a narrow slit. “I promise that you won’t get in trouble. We only use the calming foam when you are about to have an episode. Our primary goal at Zelacryd is to help you, so know that we only do such things as a last resort and for your own good.”

  “We saw giants today,” Nyx blurts out, sliding off the desk. She flinches when several crayons fall to the floor, the half-elf unsure if she should clean them up while they have company. “They were walking across the valley before the mist cleared. Trinity said they were hunting.”

  The doctor smiles as she crosses her legs. “There are such creatures in the mountains. You are very fortunate to have seem them. So how have you two been?”

  “You mean to ask if we still believe we’re destined to fight each other in a battle for Windemere,” Trinity contends while she moves closer to the wall. “I . . . dreamed of the man who kept hurting me. He did horrible things to me and they felt real. How can you say those things never happened?”

  “After all these years, you still misunderstand me,” the kind elf replies, patting one of the beds for them to sit down. Nyx is about to take the offer when Trinity catches her arm and pulls her back onto the desk. “I’ve never said that your trauma is a delusion. It’s very clear that a man in your past abused you and attempted to do the same thing to Nyx. The part that I believe is false is that this is part of a prophecy created by these gods. Everyone knows that if such beings existed, they wouldn’t toy with mortals in such a way.”

  “Is Delvin fake too?” Nyx timidly asks, clinging to Trinity out of fear of the answer. “What about my other friends? What about finding my parents?”

  “What about me being a queen?” the chaos elf adds.

  “Are you sure I wasn’t raised to be a caster?”

  “How do you explain Nyx’s scars if these are only dreams?”

  “Trinity has scars too.”

  Doctor Eltzer sighs and rubs her sapphire eyes, all of the questions having been asked countless times over the years. She leans back and stares at the ceiling, which has been covered with more drawings. Most of them are of a purple dragon or a griffin, but there is a more recent one of a towering metal dragon looming over a sleeping woman. The doctor is concerned that the images have become more detailed and vivid since the mysterious siblings were found on her doorstep as children.

  “The truth is that we don’t know what caused your scars,” she admits, returning her attention to the patients. As usual, Nyx nervously rubs at her chest as if there is something dangling from her neck. “The answers are locked in your minds, which have been severely damaged by a childhood filled with magical abuse. I could take guesses as to what happened, but such ideas can make things worse. It’s best that we continue talking and let your memories slowly sort themselves out.”

  “Can I show you something and not get the foam?” Nyx politely asks as she pulls away from Trinity. Once the doctor nods, she creates a ball of silver aura in her hands and rolls it between her palms. “Both of us can use magic without words, gestures, and supplies. We’ve talked to other patients who were casters and they said such a thing is impossible. Yet here we are. Why would we be born with these abilities if there were no gods to make it happen or a prophecy that needed us to be so powerful?”

  “Let’s see you get out of this question, doctor,” Trinity says while curling her hair around her fingers. “Good one, little sister.”

  “I thought I was the big sister.”

  “I’m taller.”

  “Are we really sisters?”

  “We have to be since we both have these powers. Our eyes match too.”

  The doctor clears her throat for attention and gestures for Nyx to put away her magic. “It is evident that there is something special about you. Again, there are several explanations that one could dream up. Your similarities do prove some kind of familial relation, but sisters might be too much. Cousins or half-siblings is more likely. It’s quite possible that you were experimented on as children in order to give you such magic. There have been many cases where a person has been altered for a specific reason. Necrocasters and immoral gnomes are not unheard of in our world.”

  “So we could be weapons designed by someone who wants to rule the world,” Trinity suggests while examining her hands. A coating of acid appears on her fingers, but she quickly ends the spell when she hears Nurse Bola cough. “If Nyx and I are nothing more than weapons then wouldn’t it be a bad idea to help us? For all you know, our creator wants you to fix us after something went wrong. By making us independent and sane, Doctor Eltzer, you could be dooming the entire world.”

  “Do you feel like conquering or destroying the world, Trinity?” the elf asks, her hands aching from writing so quickly. She massages her fingers while the chaos elf scratches
her head and thinks. “What about you, Nyx?”

  “I . . . I do dream about being in grand battles and using my magic to help my friends,” the half-elf answers, shying away from the angry stare of the other channeler. “I guess if they’re not real then it doesn’t matter. Still, I want to protect and save the world. Maybe we were created to be guardians of Windemere like the legends say about dragons.”

  “I dream about ruling a free people, but not the whole world,” Trinity answers before returning to her bed to lie down. She reaches out to take down a picture of a desolate landscape where several blue figures hide within the black crags. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to believe in gods and feel like you’re destined for something. So what if we have a few facts mixed up? We’re obviously meant for something important. It isn’t like we’d destroy Windemere if you let us out of here.”

  “I don’t know,” Nyx mutters while staring at the energy running around her hands. “I think I could do it. Not that I want to.”

  “You’re far too timid to do it, little sister.”

  “And you’re too lazy.”

  “At least I’m staying in shape, pot-bellied pig.”

  “This gown billows out too much.”

  “Your excuses are as pathetic as your magic.”

  “I’ve beaten you enough to prove otherwise.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve lost most of our battles, Nyx.”

  “Stupid cow!”

  “Ogre whore!”

  Trinity leaps off her bed with her fingers transforming into long claws that drip acid on the floor. Nyx’s arms are coated in lightning as she prepares to defend herself. Neither of them make it very far before the door is kicked open and Nurse Bola enters with a hose. The jet of thick foam sends the channelers crashing against the bathroom door. The dwarf continues covering the women until they are shivering in a thick puddle of the anti-magic goo.

  “I can never tell if we’ve made progress or not with these two,” Doctor Eltzer sighs while tucking her chair back into her jacket pocket. “It ends in a strange fight almost every time. It’s as if they love each other like siblings, but hate each other like rivals. That only strengthens their belief that they’re destined by some gods to battle for Windemere.”

  “Should we try separating them again?” the dwarf asks before hitting Nyx with another blast of foam. The sparks on her head go out with a hiss and she curls into the fetal position. “I know they had issues last time, but they’re a few years older now. If anything, it could break this shared delusion.”

  “I think they benefit from being together,” the doctor explains while wiping a blob of foam off her sleeve. “They don’t feel alone and confused, which helps them heal. I will increase their one-on-one sessions though. Keep an eye on them for the rest of the day and tell the other nurses to have the hoses ready in case they have another outburst. It’s rare that they fight more than once a week, but it’s happened before.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  Nyx and Trinity keep their eyes closed as the doctor and nurse leave, both women waiting for the sound of the door locking. A feeling of helplessness burrows into their bones now that their magic has been temporarily blocked. They quietly strip off their soaked clothes and tiptoe into the bathroom where a tub of lukewarm water takes up most of the space. They slip into the basin and scrub their bodies with round sponges in the hope of making the foam wear off quicker. Within seconds, the top of the water is covered in bubbles that smell of medicinal soap and sandalwood.

  “I don’t feel crazy,” Nyx says before dipping underwater. She leans back, so only her face is above the surface. “Then again, I don’t think I would know if I was crazy, so the vivid memories could be anything. What do you think, Trinity?”

  “I think we’re both crazy,” the chaos elf bluntly replies. The cooling water makes her cringe, so she gets out and grabs one of the rough towels. “Still, if we had these allies and friends, they’d have rescued us by now. It’s been at least ten years and nobody has arrived. I don’t know what to believe.”

  Nyx gives the taller woman a hug from behind, pressing her forehead against the soft, cobalt skin. “There’s the other option that we don’t talk about. We were experimented on, considered failures, and abandoned in the mountains. Doctor Eltzer keeps saying we were delivered here, but I heard Nurse Bola mention we were found wandering the grounds one day. With our magic, we could have snuck in to escape the wilderness.”

  “Abandoned, living weapons, insanity, prophecies, magical abuse, and who knows what else is in our past. Do we have anything going in our favor?”

  “We’re together.”

  The chaos elf’s violet eyes sparkle as she hugs Nyx and playfully drapes a fresh towel over the half-elf’s head. They crack open the door to see if the foam has evaporated, but there is still a steaming pool of the muck. Not wanting to touch the white liquid, they huddle on the stone stairs. Within minutes, they fall asleep next to each other and a crackling glow of magic dances around their bodies.

  *****

  “I think we’re going to be rewarded when we get home,” Yola declares as she races across the ocean. The goddess skids to a stop and grabs a passing shark, freezing the large beast so she can sit on its fin. “I forgot how to get home. Teleporting is too risky because I can bump into another god on the way. Then I’d have to kill them, eat the body, and explain to our master why my tummy is bloated. Do you know how we get back to Shayd?”

  The Chaos Goddess looks down at the Trinity figurine in her hand, expecting it to say something. She shakes and juggles the toy when it remains silent, a few sparks flying from its hands. Yola dangles the doll by its leg and dips it into the ocean as if it is asleep.

  “Why aren’t you talking to me? Are you mad, Trinity?” the goddess asks before releasing the shark and flying into the clouds for privacy. The figurine’s eyes glow when she squeezes its shoulders, causing Yola to hug the toy to her chest. “You’ve been turned into a doll. I wondered why you were so quiet. I thought I did something wrong. I will avenge you, my friend! The fiend who did this to you will be destroyed! Not a speck . . . Did I do this? No, I sent you and the other broken lady to the brain hospital to get fixed. I think. There was something else I did there to help you, but I forgot. Do you know, person who has been following me ever since I left Gods’ Voice and thought I wouldn’t smell her breath? You eat too much garlic.”

  “It’s onions, not garlic, you idiot!” shouts a female voice.

  The clouds to Yola’s left swirl and transform into another goddess who creates a dress that resembles a tornado with two tails. The woman’s red and silver hair is repeatedly yanked by the violent clothing, so she strips naked and tosses the storm at a nearby island. The weather rips along the rocky coast and carves the detailed picture of a monkey into the solid earth. Feeling exposed, the stranger reaches out to Yola and yanks a copy of the other woman’s skin off. With a happy coo, the orange-eyed goddess slips into the new covering and admires herself in a gigantic mirror that rises out of the ocean.

  “It isn’t my favorite color scheme, but I can change it later,” the woman says while spinning her head. The stolen skin melts into a simple dress of white with sapphire skull trimming around the neck and hem. “This is definitely later. Now hand over your title and powers. I’ve defeated you.”

  “Did I put up a fight?”

  “No, you died crying.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “You weren’t a worthy opponent.”

  “Are you sure because I always thought I was?” Yola asks as her green hair grows and thickens. The whip-like tresses smack their owner in the face with enough force to knock her head off, but she swiftly catches and reattaches the body part. “Thank you, Matilda. Who are you, my old and powerful rival? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

  “I’m Aeriel the Goddess of Insanity!” the woman declares with a mad cackle. She stops when her enemy yawns and tries to walk away. “Get back here! I’
ve waited centuries for a chance to drag you back to Ambervale. The others kept stopping me, but Gabriel gave me permission this time. Well, he said he’d love to see me try to capture you then he got called away before he could tell me to behave. So come with me.”

  Yola floats around the other goddess and stretches her neck to get a closer look. Aeriel grows sharp fangs and tries to take a bite out of the extended flesh, but her incisors shatter on the stone-like skin. Reaching into her mouth, she pulls out a fresh set of teeth and reattaches them while Yola retracts her neck. Once the other deity is done, the Chaos Goddess goes back to her circling until Aeriel tears herself in half. With excited giggles and a torrent of curses, the two parts bounce into the clouds in the hope of being chased. Instead, Yola continues on her way to Shayd while whistling an ancient funeral dirge.

  “Dammit, you idiot! Fight me!” Aeriel roars as she reappears in front of her enemy. “I want your title, so fight me or gimme!”

  “Who are you again?”

  “I’m Aeriel the Goddess of Insanity!”

  “You said that already.”

  “Oh, sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Nice to meet you.”

  “Happy to finally meet you too,” the younger goddess says, shaking her rival’s hand. A third hand appears from Aeriel’s wrist and snatches the Trinity figurine. “Surrender to me or I kill your friend. It won’t take long to . . . why is she so small and shiny? Did you know your friend doesn’t have an aura? Anyway, give me your title and I’ll spare this mortal.”

  “That’s only a doll,” Yola replies, scratching her head with arms that grow out of her lower back. “I misplaced my friend and I should get her back. She’d be lost without me because she has trouble focusing on her tasks. A real flighty girl, but she’s very sweet.”