by D N Meinster
"Given that we can't see where we are going, and have no idea what's ahead, I'd say we should've stopped – " Doren thought about it a minute before continuing. "Back there," he pointed in the direction of Radite. "She could have at least given us shelter for the night."
Rikki nodded, glad that Simma had done something Doren found objectionable. Perhaps that would be enough to overcome his obvious attraction to the Lady. He had kept his eyes on her for almost their entire time in Radite. Was he trying to cause an incident between their two kingdoms? There had been wars started for less.
Rikki stopped and turned her staff sideways, blocking the way forward for her companions. "Let's make camp here."
"Where exactly is here?" Doren asked.
Grabbing onto her staff with both hands, Rikki swung it hard against the grass before her. Sparks flew out of the ground, and an immense blaze rose up from the point of impact.
All three of them took a gander at their surroundings, which were fairly dull. In all directions, there was almost uniformly empty space, decorated by grass and the occasional cluster of trees.
"I don't see anyone, but I may have just attracted some attention," Rikki said, shrinking the flames so they were no higher than her knees.
Doren took the shield off his back and held it against his chest. "That's fine. I'll be awake for a while. I can't get comfortable sleeping on the ground."
"You don't have to," Rikki said.
The grass beneath Doren grew taller before their eyes. After they reached a particular height, the blades bent toward each other and began interweaving. When Rikki was done with her manipulations, they were left with a mattress formed entirely from the pasture.
"More comfortable than the ground, I think," Rikki stated. "Oh." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of berries. "You can thank our escorts from earlier for these."
"Did you steal them?" Doren asked as he plucked a few while Rikki held them out for him.
"They belong to the trees," Rikki replied. "Can you really steal from a tree?"
Doren grinned at her as he plopped onto the mattress she had created. He tossed his shield aside and laid back, enjoying the sweet juices from the fruit as they flowed down his gullet with every bite.
"Aros," he said, still chewing on what was apparently his dinner. "You don't mind keeping watch for a while, right?"
Aros came out of his daze and glared at the fire and mattress that had appeared without his noticing. "I'm not tired, if that's what you mean."
"Great," Doren said.
Rikki sighed. Was he totally unaware of what was going on with Aros? They really needed to have a private chat, but she didn't see them getting the opportunity. Maybe he would get the hint after a conversation with Aros.
After creating two more mattresses from nothing but grass and earth, Rikki sat down and asked Aros, "Is Magenine still speaking to you?"
Aros remained standing. "Her voice has left me," he told them, making sure not to look at them. He was even more useless now. Maybe they'd let him go back, as he was not going to be any help on this quest.
"When did She stop?"
"About the time we got to Faunli," Aros recalled. "Maybe a little before."
"Have you tried talking to her?" Doren asked, not exactly sure how the relationship worked.
"I don't want to hear Her," Aros grumbled, and he turned his back on his companions.
Rikki watched Doren, trying to determine if he was getting the hint. Aros was not the same. Their friend was drowning in despair, and Rikki was unsure what to do to help. Maybe Doren would have ideas, if he noticed.
"Because of Lei – "
Before Doren could even say her name, Aros spun around and interrupted. "Let's not speak of this."
Taken aback, Doren puzzled over his friend's fierceness. Maybe he didn't think they could relate to his loss. But Aros' sufferings were not unfamiliar to either Rikki or himself. They could easily empathize. Did he need them to tell their stories?
When Doren glanced at Rikki, she saw a glint in his eyes that eased her worries. He had figured out that which she could not. Doren had more experience with people. It was one of the benefits of not being imprisoned in a castle for a lifetime.
"You might feel completely alone right now, Aros, but your friends are right next to you," Doren said. "And we each know how you're feeling. It is the unfortunate truth in life that you will one day lose someone you love. Will you listen to me?"
Aros took a seat on his mattress, his face portraying a clear sense of unease. But he said nothing, waiting for Doren to continue.
"My mother was Queen of Kytheras. She was, well – " Doren let out a cough, trying not to get choked up. He did not speak of his mother often, nor have the need to explain who she was when he did. "She was warm. And wise. She was the best part of my father, and he leaned on her heavily for advice. She spent her time among the people, listening to them; easing their worries. And she brought their concerns back to Castle Tornis. She gave my father a much better reputation than he deserved.
"I was only seven when the Palmarose Plague started eating away at our kingdom. I remember the bodies decomposing in the street and the misleading smell that accompanied them. They locked us all in the castle, afraid that the illness would creep in. It did, despite their precautions." Doren's stomach twisted into knots. Just thinking about this caused him pain. He felt like the berries could come back up at any moment. "The Queen was the first one to get sick. They blamed her for bringing the plague into the castle. They said she had been out among the commoners, trying to help them. And she probably had. She did not deserve what came next, but we were helpless to stop it. There was no cure. Her skin. The smell."
Doren tried not to recall that last image he had of his mother. This whole exercise was not about him, but if he became overly emotional, it would be.
He shook his head, urging himself to concentrate on the issues at hand. He was going to get through to Aros, one way or another. Either his friend could come to grips with the horrid situation, and move past what had happened in Kytheras, or he'd sink further into despair and drag them all down with him. Doren wouldn't be able to cope with the latter option. Too much depended on them already. Even his father had put his faith in them. They had to make Aros see he was not alone, otherwise he would unquestionably end up that way.
Rikki spoke up before Doren could continue. "I never knew my parents. No mage has gotten that opportunity in recent history. But when I was younger, there came a point when I was exceptionally curious about them. I was determined to discover who they were so I could meet them. With a bit of magic and the help of a friend," she nudged Doren with her shoulder, "I broke into the hall of records."
"We broke in," Doren corrected her.
"Right. We did. And we went through hundreds of boxes, thousands of pages, until we found the information. I had always known I was descended from Amelia, but that was the extent of it. But with one sheet of paper, the entire truth was revealed." Rikki's face fell, and her eyes turned away from her companions, as she recited the words on that page. "Qara Nasem: deceased. Turner Nasem: deceased. Cause of death: Fogg patrols."
"Fogg patrols?" Aros repeated, unsure of their meeting.
"King Fogg the Third intended to make up for his namesake's reputation as a secret Thalian," Rikki explained. "So he murdered anyone suspected of Thalian sympathies. If you had a Massku trinket or worrisome bloodlines, you were executed. Eventually, that came to mean that if you had a magical child, there was something wrong with you, so you had to go. In spite of this heartlessness, those magical children could be useful to the King, so he saved them and kept them in his castle, like all the kings before him."
Rikki's body grew tense as she recited this tale. "To say I hate King Fogg is an understatement, though I never held it against King Halstrom or his son." She stole a look at Doren. "But I hated living in the home where my parent's murderer resided. I never had a chance to know them because one ma
n decided they should die."
Rikki took a deep breath and tried to ease her muscles. Had she gotten through to Aros? That was the point of this, wasn't it? Their friend needed to understand that he wasn't alone. They had all faced terrible trials in their lives and lost loved ones. Perhaps she could even speak for someone that wasn't with them.
"There was only one other mage in the kingdom," she carried on. "Milo. Our histories were similar, but we were never much alike. He never showed concern for his missing parents, and he never broke rules, so he never would have broken into the hall of records. He may have been younger than me, but he behaved more like a teacher than a student. He would try and stop me when he knew one of my escape attempts was on the horizon. But he never told on me. At least as far as I know. I can't say we were close, but we were bonded by magic. His murder tore away at me. Even now, I can tell you that he was meant to still be alive. He would've been helping us."
Rikki and Doren both directed their attention to Aros. He could feel their eyes on him, waiting for some sort of response. He knew what they shared was very personal. Their secrets were now his to keep, and they wanted his in return. Aros was glad to have their friendship, but he was not ready to speak of his recent loss. He couldn't. It would be like opening a wound that was still bleeding.
Why did they expect so much of him so soon? Yes, he understood the immense scope of their mission, but that did not eclipse what had so recently occurred. This was not something he could easily get over. Maybe neither of them had been in love before. That would explain why the only way they could relate was through their parents. Losing the girl he was in love with was much different than losing a parent. He knew because he already had.
His father had died of the Palmarose Plague just like Doren's mother. He remembered those days so long ago, when his father would wake early to feed and milk the cows. Aros hated early mornings, but he enjoyed going with his father. Sometimes he would sit on his father's shoulders as he pushed milk carts down the street to make his daily deliveries. Then he got sick, and his skin started to change. The odor overtook their entire house. Just a short time later, it was his mother feeding the cows and delivering the milk. Less got done and less got sold when it was only the two of them, and Aros' time became occupied by school and his girlfriend.
The Asilias family didn't have a castle’s worth of gems to fall back on. They didn't have servants to help with the business. Losing his father cost them not only in their hearts but in their home. But still, they were motivated, and they had to go on for their own survival. But without Leidess, he didn't even want to survive.
No, Aros' friends could not truly relate. They had experienced nothing close to what he had gone through. And he hoped for their sake that they never would.
"I'll keep watch," was all Aros said as he turned away from them and looked out toward the darkened landscape.
"You are the mage I've been looking for."
Rikki hopped up from her mattress and the staff flew into her hand. She searched the darkness for the source of the voice that had woken her. The fire had already gone out, and neither of her friends was visible in the starlight. They were supposed to be keeping watch, but somehow this stranger had snuck up on them, and she was the only one to notice.
"Stay calm, oelinapa, I haven't come to attack. I'm here to discuss the Door."
The channeling crystal on her staff lit up, and she directed the light to reveal this trespasser. He was in tattered red robes, crusted over with dirt and poked full of holes. His yellow eyes were locked on to her, but the rest of his face was covered by a protruding golden beak.
Rikki pointed her staff at his chest and tried to shake herself awake. Why was this mask familiar to her? She had never seen someone dressed up like a bird before. "Doren. Aros." Her whispers did not generate a response. So much for her lookouts.
"Who are you?" she tried to engage the man.
"Is that what you truly desire to ask?" he replied. "I thought you'd already know from my mask."
"I can't place it," Rikki replied.
The bird-man tilted his head before examining his clothes. "I don't look as I once did. I am aware of this. But I thought you'd know, miss."
"It's Rikki," Rikki said. "What's your name?" She moved the crystal closer to his eyes and was startled to find that he lacked pupils.
The bird-man grabbed his mask. "Unimportant. The name that matters is Neanthal. He sent me here for you, doll."
Rikki took a second look at this interloper. He was a servant of Neanthal? That didn't seem plausible. It was more likely he was out of his mind. His rhymes only gave credence to such a theory.
"If he thinks I'd ever become a sin mage, he hasn't been paying attention," Rikki replied, deciding to play along.
"Hatswick once believed the same," the bird-man responded. "Now whose side is he on in this deistic game?"
"I'm not Hatswick," Rikki said. "I am a descendant of Amelia. And I know whose side she was on."
"Amelia is dead and Hatswick lives. Come, young mage, let him grant you your deepest desires. Magenine only takes, but Neanthal gives. What is it that could sway you? Power? Riches? Love?" He crept over to where Doren was sleeping. "He already knows who. And he wants you to have it. He offers it freely and asks only for loyalty in return. Is that so terrible a price, to gain that which you yearn?"
Is this how Neanthal did it back in the Dark Reign? In return for sin, the mages would get whatever their hearts desired. And he could provide it, for his powers were second only to the Goddess.
The presence of this trespasser was almost reassuring, as it revealed how desperate the Thalians must be. For there was no way Rikki would ever betray Magenine or her friends. And if Neanthal couldn't see that, he was either less omniscient than was widely believed, or he needed her more than she needed him.
"You can go back to your master and tell him that this mage won't be corrupted," Rikki said assuredly.
The bird-man flicked the metal beak on his face, making a rather loud ping. "Magenine's time is coming to an end. He does not need you. This offer was for your benefit alone, to choose right while you still had the freedom to. Such a shame, what will happen to you all now. Remember that you could've made a different choice. Remember I offered."
The light in her crystal turned pale green, and her necklace began to glow. She didn't know who he was, but his threats compelled her to destroy him. Consuming him with fire seemed like the way to go.
"Rikki?" Doren called for her groggily. "Who is that?"
The momentary distraction gave the bird-man time to wrap his hand around the tip of her staff. "No one will save you, not even the voice." He shoved the staff before turning around and walking into the darkness. Rikki didn't even have time to process a response.
"Rikki?" Doren said again, this time standing right next to her.
"Wake Aros," Rikki insisted. "We're following him."
Chapter Five
Rage Unleashed
They did their best to keep a steady pace amidst the unknown terrain. Rikki was at their head, shining a light on the interloper's back as he fled into the looming darkness. Where had he come from? And why was Rikki chasing him? Aros didn't care.
He was well behind his friends, not entirely awake and longing to return to a peaceful rest. It was the first time he hadn't awoken in the middle of the night; the first time he didn't relive it in his dreams. Instead, it was Doren that roused him, explaining nothing as they left their camp behind to go after some pauper hours before sunrise.
Aros saw no weapons on the man they pursued. The only sharp object appeared to be on his face. It was certainly strange, but not enough to convince Aros that this chase wasn't meaningless. Only the Goddess could change his mind.
No, even She couldn't.
She was just another woman Aros was trying to keep out of his head. He didn't want to accidently call on Her and bring the voice back. She had already let him down when it was most important. There was noth
ing more She could say, nor any advice She could offer, that he wanted to hear. Maybe Her absence made him useless to his friends, but Aros was pleased by the silence.
As they continued to stalk their prey, his back visible at the fringes of the light, Aros retrieved both his swords, hoping that something would jump out at them from the darkness. Rikki was too focused on what was ahead to detect any other threat. And Doren had kept his shield on his back. It would be up to Aros to battle whatever may attack, and he was very much looking forward to it.
Aros swung the blades at each of his sides, as if expecting the unseen enemies to materialize. This urge to battle had not left him since arriving in this foreign land, and he wished to be rid of it. There was only one way he could think of for that to happen.
What was it about this place that caused such a craving? He knew it was not in his nature to seek bloodshed. He hadn't even made his clawblades for actual combat. Aros had gone to war out of necessity. Now he sought blood to sate that feeling. It was overwhelming.
Dawn broke while they continued their pursuit. No one had emerged from the shadows, and now they wouldn't get a chance. Rikki dimmed the light on her staff as the rising sun exposed their environment. Finally, they could see where the interloper was heading.
Up ahead was a settlement, its meager facade growing clearer as they neared. It was not at all like Faunli's capital. The wooden structures were barely high enough to fit a person. And it didn't look like there were many people living inside their cramped interiors. Aros could count on both hands the number of houses in view.
Aros shivered as they entered the community's boundaries. The early hour could explain the pervasive quiet, but it could not explain the cold. His blue t-shirt had been enough for the night air, but this place required an extra layer of clothing; a layer that he didn't have.
He hadn't exactly packed for the trip. If he was going to have more than the clothes on his back and the swords in his hands, he would require a stranger's hospitality. He hadn't received such in Radite, and he was not expecting to here. Upon closer inspection, all of these homes were lopsided, and half of them were already rotting. He was ready to leave as soon as they arrived.