“Positive. It’s calling out to me very strongly.” Trev’nor started forward as if sleepwalking, moving as quickly as he could without taking any more than the basic necessary precautions.
Becca and Nolan had to scramble to keep up with him, he moved that fast. Becca caught flashes here and there as Trev’nor used magic subconsciously to speed him past any obstacles that would take more than two seconds to get through. She had no time to examine any part of the city, as he moved too fast for her to have that luxury. Instead she focused on keeping up with him, and it wasn’t until they were near the middle of the ruins—at least it felt like they were—that Trev’nor abruptly stopped, pivoted on his heel, and went directly to the right. He reached out with both hands, touching something just out of her sight, and immediately froze with a look of wonder on his face.
Stepping around, she got a look over his shoulder and found the strangest looking stone in front of him. It was huge, large enough to put an ancient tree to shame, and it had lines of magic flickering over it in an abstract pattern that made no sense to her. The way it writhed and shifted colors, it looked alive. “That’s a memory stone?”
Nolan nodded, cheeks flushed from the exertion of keeping up. “Did you ever see the one in Coven Ordan? Or the one we have on Strae?”
“I always meant to, but didn’t. Garth said that it’s almost alive but…” she trailed off, still studying it. “Is it?”
“Not in the sense you mean,” Nolan disagreed. “It’s alive with memory, with history, with the recordings of the magician who last touched it. But it doesn’t have any will of its own. Memory stones are by nature crafted largely by Earth Mages and then used by everyone else. I think that’s partially why they call so strongly to any Earth Mage nearby.”
That did make sense. She tilted her torso and looked up at Trev’nor. He stared straight ahead, expression changing from one second to the next as he responded to something that she couldn’t hear or see. Waving a hand in front of his face, he didn’t blink, nor seemed to realize she was nearby at all. “Is he in a trance?”
“Of sorts,” Nolan confirmed. He came around to study Trev’nor’s face as well. “Last time this happened, he was more or less held prisoner by the stone until it had told him everything. I think it’s going to happen again this time so we might as well be patient and wait him out.”
Becca didn’t like the sound of that. “But what if something dangerous happens?”
“We can yank him away by force if we need to,” Nolan assured her. “It’s just not advisable unless it’s a true emergency. It’s very jarring to be taken out forcefully and it gives the body and mind an unwelcome shock. I’d rather we didn’t try it unless we absolutely have to.”
Not being a Life Mage, or having anything more than basic training in medicine, she couldn’t begin to evaluate if Trev’nor was in danger or not. She’d have to trust Nolan’s judgement on this. So she nodded and turned, looking about her. “Then, why don’t we put a ward up around him, just in case, and go exploring?”
“We might as well.” Nolan turned and looked as well. “I think this is going to take a while, so why don’t we find a fresh source of water, if we can, and some place nearby so we can sleep.”
It was the sensible thing to do, so she agreed. “Any idea of how to find water out here?”
“Not a one,” Nolan admitted cheerfully, already bring his magic to the front, preparing to create a ward. “But we’ll figure it out.”
It took minutes to set up the ward and then they set out, slowly exploring the ruins. The outer walls had come down in multiple places, baring the interior, which gave her an interesting view. All of the doorways were arched—not round per se, but with a definite diamond tip to the top. Other places looked strongly Chahiran, with the traditional architecture that she was used to.
Nolan held out a hand as they went down a crumbling staircase. “Watch your step.”
She took the offered hand and was more than grateful for the courtesy as the stone shifted a little under her weight. “This place grows more bizarre as I look at it. Parts of it match up with Chahir so well and other parts, like the doorways, look very in tune with what we’ve seen in Rurick.”
“It’s growing increasingly obvious to me that the original builders to this place must have been Chahiran magicians.” Nolan looked around. “That shimmering over there, does that look like water to you?”
“Possibly?” It glinted in the light like water would. If nothing else, she wanted to see what it was. “Let’s see.”
Nolan led the way, making sure to keep his pace so that she could easily keep up, and continued where he had left off. “The memory stone alone says that an Earth Mage was up here at some point. I think this is conclusive evidence. But none of the records show that we had a large number of Chahiran magicians come and settle into Khobunter.”
He said this so confidently. “How do you know?”
“When Garth and Xiaolang were first given the task of finding the magicians out of Chahir, they spent their off time studying the indexes and matching them up with whatever records they could find,” Nolan explained. “And when they found that huge stash of records at a pool in Chahir, it was all carted back to the Sojavel Ra Institute and studied even more there. Believe me, if there had been a record of a group traveling up into Khobunter, they would know about it.”
Becca pondered on that for a while, trying to match it up with what she had been taught in school. “But wasn’t the situation right at the end of the Magic War a complete mess? I mean, they lost track completely of the only family of Weather Mages in the confusion of evacuation. No one even knew about Coven Ordan until they decided to come over and say hi.”
“That…” Nolan gave her a sharp look. “That is a good point. What are you saying? That it’s possible the builders of this city were evacuees from Chahir at the end of the Magic War?”
“It’s possible, isn’t it? And it fits the timeline too well to be a coincidence. Trev’nor said this place had been built a few decades after the war. Even with magic, wouldn’t it take a long time to build this city?”
“Several decades, I would think.” Nolan’s steps slowed as he took another, more contemplative look around. “But Becca, if that’s the case, then the magicians here in Khobunter are likely the descendants of this ruined city. That means that the magicians here are Chahiran.”
“Several generations removed.” The idea didn’t sit well with her. She hadn’t thought of the magicians in Rurick as Chahiran because they hadn’t looked the part. There hadn’t been a hint of blond hair or fair skin to be found anywhere on them. But the magic that sang through their veins was proof enough. “I don’t like this. We don’t have the evidence to prove it, I know, but if we’re right?”
“I think we are,” Nolan said grimly. He had to duck and slip sideways to get past a fallen pillar that was leaning at an angle and resting in between two buildings. “It makes too much sense and fits in too neatly with what we know. If we’re right, it means that a whole generation of Chahiran magicians tried to take refuge in Khobunter and rebuild their lives. Only it didn’t last. They were taken and turned into slaves.”
The thought made her blood boil. Bad enough that magicians were treated like animals to begin with, but if they were originally Chahiran, her own countrymen, it was a different matter altogether.
“Don’t get angry just yet,” Nolan counseled, although from the sparks arcing off of his bare skin, it was clear that he was not following his own advice. “We don’t have proof. And that memory stone likely holds most of the answers that we need. We wait for Trev’nor to get done and then tell us what we need to know.”
“You’re assuming it holds all the answers.”
“It doesn’t need to. It just needs to answer two: Were the builders of this place Chahiran? Were they taken captive by the people of Khobunter? That’s all we need to know.”
The building right behind the memory stone was largely intac
t, with the second floor still standing and acting like a roof for them. They chose it to stay in that night, sweeping the floor clear of sand and pebbles to make a smoother bed, with a small fire going for warmth. Their dinner was a cold one, made of the food they’d packed for the trip, and Nolan was the one that coaxed Trev’nor to eat. Feeding someone while still in a trance was interesting. At least, Becca found it entertaining. It took Nolan nearly an hour to feed Trev’nor a full meal, one small bite at a time.
If Trev’nor had been with them that night, instead of glued to the stone, he would have made the ground softer so that they weren’t literally sleeping on a slab of rock. Becca, not used to such a hard bed, tossed and turned, only falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning. When she awoke, she felt fuzzy headed and her back half-numb. Some strange music thrummed near her ear, too. It sounded somewhat like birdsong, but not quite, with a strum of a vibrating string mixed in. What in the wide green world…?
“Becca. Don’t move.”
She blinked open both eyes and lifted her head enough to see. Nolan was sitting comfortably on his bedroll, legs crossed, with the strangest looking creatures covering him from the shoulders down. They were small, about the size of a man’s closed fist, completely covered in fur with a long tail that trailed out and big, liquid eyes. They seemed to come in every possible hue of color from the brightest of blues to muted tans.
“Ah….”
“No idea what these are,” Nolan answered, as if she had asked the question aloud. He was petting two of them with careful fingers, a grin on his face. “But they’re very affectionate. And soft. I woke up this morning completely buried in them.”
Seeing that she too was buried in them from the waist down, Becca eased up onto her elbows and got a better look at them. They were all more or less the same size, and seemed to have legs under all of that fur, but really they looked like furry eggs. Large furry eggs. “How are they making that sound?”
“Their tails are vibrating at high speeds. It’s rather like a cat’s purr, I think. It’s a sign of happiness.” Nolan slid one finger under and scratched at the belly of a yellow one and the tail went so fast that it made a blur of sound. “Haha, they’re ticklish!”
Becca tentatively reached out as well—just because they liked Nolan didn’t mean they’d like her, he was the Life Mage after all—and stroked the head of one near her hand. It blinked at her and then crawled into her hand, tail vibrating in a faster movement. “They are soft. Where did they come from? We didn’t see a hint of them yesterday.”
“I felt them yesterday,” Nolan disagreed, “but I didn’t know what they were. I just thought it was rats or something as they were small and fast. I couldn’t get a clear sense of them. I guess they got used to us being here during the course of the night and couldn’t resist coming in closer.”
Nolan’s magic had that effect on animals. “They can’t be native to Khobunter, though, can they? I mean, Rurick didn’t have them.”
His eyes on the animals in his hands, Nolan said quietly, “They’re Life Mage constructions.”
Becca’s breath caught in her throat. “You can tell?”
“The magic isn’t strong in them anymore, it’s been multiple generations since the first one was created, but it’s like looking at a meuritta versus looking at a normal cat. To me, it’s obvious that one was created and the other is natural. These are created.”
So a Life Mage had obviously been up here too. “Nolan, this is looking pretty conclusive to me.”
His mouth went into a flat line. “I’m convinced. But I want to hear what Trev’nor has learned from the stone.”
“Me too.” Becca gave her situation another study. “Say, Nolan?”
“What is it?”
“How do I convince them that I need to move?”
“That is a very good question. If I knew the answer, I would have done it myself.”
“But you can communicate with them, right?”
“Sure, but…how do I say this? I can talk to them but they don’t quite get it. I ask them to move, and they gladly do, but it’s like three inches. Max. I can’t get them to leave either one of us alone.”
“Slowly roll to our feet and give them time to move? I can’t think of a better plan.”
Nolan shrugged and rolled up to his knees, fuzzy creatures bouncing off in all directions. Even though they didn’t land on their feet, they didn’t seem hurt by the movements and were upright again in moments, tails still making those musical sounds.
Seeing how resilient they were, Becca wasn’t as cautious in getting out of bed and gaining her feet. It helped that she wasn’t as popular as Nolan, so she had fewer of the creatures to watch out for as she moved.
They spent the rest of the day exploring and dodging their new fuzzy friends. They went back at noon for lunch, feeding Trev’nor as well, and making sure he was hydrated under the hot desert suns. Then they continued their foray, exploring a different section of the city. Aside from what they had already discovered, nothing else leapt out at them. Becca and Nolan didn’t really know how to analyze what they were seeing, but at the very least when they were home again they could dump their memories into a crystal and show it to other people.
When they came back that evening, Becca tried making something over their small campfire, as she was tired of bread and jerky and sliced fruit. The fuzzies had led her to a clear underground well, giving she had fresh water and some vegetables, so she stewed them together and hoped for the best.
Nolan sat and helped her, peeling a potato, when his head abruptly snapped up. “Trev’nor’s out of the trance.”
“Finally!” Dropping everything in her hands, she raced around the wall and directly to Trev’nor’s side. “Trev.”
He was sprawled out on the ground, breathing hard, a grimace on his face. “How long have I been standing? My legs are cramping something awful.”
“Two days.” Nolan knelt at his feet, hands reaching out for Trev’nor calves. He glowed a muted red as he magically eased the cramps. “You need to drink.”
“I need more than just to drink.” Looking a little embarrassed, he eased back up to his feet. “Where’s, ah…?”
Nolan pointed him out of the building. “Go down, first doorway on the right.”
“Thanks, back in a bit.”
It took Becca a second to get it. Oh, right, of course. They’d been pouring water down him for two days but because of the trance he couldn’t go to the bathroom. His bladder was probably screaming. A little amused, she went back to making dinner, cutting up the rest of the vegetables and throwing them into the cookpot.
Trev’nor came to them looking tired but relieved and plopped down next to the fire. “My brain is wrung out. Shouldn’t there have been a safety spell in place on that thing? It’s not supposed to hold you captive like that for more than a few hours.”
“I have a feeling that spell failed over the years,” Becca offered, brushing the last of the water from her hands. “It’s several centuries old, after all. But tell us what it was showing you.”
“Sure thing, but…” Trev’nor pointed down at the creature that was happily leaning up against his crossed ankles. “What’s that?”
“A fuzzy,” Becca replied promptly.
“Becca!” Nolan protested. “We have to give them a better name than that!”
“They’re little, walking fuzzballs, what else are you going to name them?”
The Prince of Chahir spluttered incoherently.
“They’re very sweet,” Becca assured Trev’nor, who was now poking at the fuzzy with the tip of his finger, making the creature vibrate with musical pleasure. “Not very bright, but sweet. The noise its tail is making is like a cat purring.”
“And they like humans, I take it?”
“You’ll probably wake up completely buried in them,” Nolan warned cheerfully. “We were. These are Life Mage constructions, by the way.”
“Not surprised.” Trev’nor ble
w out a breath, expression troubled. “I’m not sure how much the two of you have figured out in the past two days, so I’ll just start from the beginning. Some of the families that evacuated from Chahir during the Magic War came here. It was a slow journey—some of them actually took two years to get here, as they tried living other places first—but they gradually all came here. My many times great uncle, a Rhebenhughen, was the one that created the stone and set up the core of the city. Other magicians gravitated here when they found out about the place and it eventually grew to,” Trev’nor gave an expansive sweep of the arm, “this. It was a trade hub, and because of the magic of its citizens, it was like a garden. A paradise in the middle of the desert. They had no trouble setting up trade with the neighboring cities and it flourished very quickly. Eventually, other people started marrying in, and they started to look Khobuntian, even though they retained their magical heritage.”
Hence why the slaves didn’t look Chahiran anymore.
“And then about a hundred years ago, give or take, their neighbors started to get greedy. They didn’t want to abide by the terms of the trade agreements anymore. They didn’t want to live in their desert cities. They wanted this place, Rheben.” Trev’nor rubbed at his temples with both hands. “Keep in mind, I’m condensing this a lot for you. There’s too much to recount if I don’t.”
“We figured as much considering the stone kept you for two days,” Nolan assured him. “We’ll put it all into a memory crystal later, record it for history. But keep going.”
“There were a lot of recordings of different skirmishes and battles that they had with their neighbors. It eventually came down to a battle of attrition and then a massive betrayal at the end. Rheben was conquered in force.” Trev’nor’s eyes grew sad. “The person that last recorded, Linsallahan, was actually killed while trying to record. So I don’t know what happened after that. I think anyone that fought back was killed, anyone that they could capture was sold into slavery, and the place was looted.”
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