Spellshift

by Allen Snell

Garen found it easiest to address the spirits by looking down. The group seemed to understand the cue and kept from talking over him. “Sharing a soul with who?” Garen asked them. “Is the Earth Spirit worse than you guys?”

  Ampelis laughed. Kephalos? Oh, rivers no. He’s harmless enough. Probably more so than either of us. Nothing but an arrogant little prick who pissed off the wrong people.

  “Alright,” Garen said. He was hesitant to bring up a volatile subject, but their circumstances had changed. “Then you’ve got to tell me who this Wind Spirit is.”

  “Garen, this will be more valuable if you share what they’re saying with us.” Micah reminded him.

  “Eventually, hold on a second.”

  Kallista spoke with contempt in her voice. I told you not to ask about him. This is your last warning.

  The spirits and the room fell silent. Micah had an obvious itch to take control of the conversation, but he waited patiently until Garen spoke.

  “They said the Earth Spirit isn’t someone to worry about.” Garen looked at Drake. “They’re freaked out by the spirit you’ve had this whole time. Neither one will tell me a thing.”

  “Well then,” Micah said, “I think it’s best we set the topic aside so we can discuss more pressing matters. I’m sure Idrian will be happy to aid you in your conversation with them afterward. Right now, I have your next assignments.”

  Garen glanced at Drake again. His friend stayed pensive but unburdened by the news. Garen wanted to know what was on his mind. This wasn’t the place for it, though, and Garen was equally curious what their roles to protect the kingdom would be. “Fine,” he sighed. “Let’s talk war.”

  “Yes, that is still the nature of our position,” Micah said. “However, the unexpected passing of Sarkos gives us new opportunities. I intend to travel in person and reconcile our kingdoms. I know the members of the Council who supported him, and they are reasonable, if perhaps spineless, men. We will find a virtuous steward for their throne. I will bring a small retinue of protection for my own life. I do not wish to alarm them by its size. Morgan, you will lead them.”

  She nodded without hesitation.

  “Drake, you will be traveling west as well, but with a different purpose. The location of the Apatten is unknown, as are their creators’ intentions without Sarkos. Your gifts now enable you to search above and below ground like none other. Find them.”

  “King Micah,” Drake’s formality led Garen to assume he had a dissenting opinion. “Don’t you feel I would better serve you among my family in the East? With the Earth Spirit, I could determine the extent of their slave trade. Perhaps addressing that problem will solve our conflict with whoever commands the Apatten now. We could resolve matters diplomatically.”

  Micah shook his head. “No, our priority is to protect our people. I will not bicker with Amiri and the Geonode Guild while an army of unknown size and strength looms over us. We both know that you could provide indisputable evidence of the guild’s atrocities and there would still be frost on the river banks before we saw reform. Meanwhile, an army might be marching toward them, passing through my kingdom and either conscripting or outright murdering my people.” Micah drew an overdue breath in his efforts to stay calm. “So, our focus stays west until we can ensure safety. Drake, can you put your grievances on hold to achieve that?

  Drake concealed the disapproval on his face but not in his tone. “I will do all I can.”

  “Thank you,” Micah said. He seemed content with the response and moved on. “Naia, your gifts are at a critical need for Vikar-Tola’s refugees right now. Our survivors with sufficient depth or strength are still working to rescue wounded from inside the city. There are thousands more outside with no wells and in no condition to carry water from the river. And beyond the physical needs, these people need reassurance that we can protect them and restore their lives. I think you can help with both.”

  Naia stammered a little. “Umm, that’s all fine, but let Morgan come with me. She’s a lot better with people. I’ve got the water part, but I don’t think I can reassure anyone right now.”

  Micah’s contentment easily faded. Stress lined his brow once more. “Naia, I’m sorry, but things have changed since Morgan inherited the Fire Spirit. I’ve got too many crises to let her continue as your Aide. I need you to do this alone.”

  Naia gripped the armchair and clenched her jaw. Garen could see the resentment in her eyes, the stirring desire to tell him no. But she couldn’t. An unexpected voice broke the silence.

  “I can go with her,” Belen said.

  “I’m not sure that would be safe,” Idrian responded. “We’d planned to let you stay here for the short-term.”

  Belen’s eyes darted between everyone else’s stares. “They blew up my city. I know I’m not part of your group, but I want to help, too.”

  “Understandable,” Micah turned back to Naia. “I have no qualms with Belen joining the refugee camps. I guess it’s ultimately up to you whether he assists or not.”

  Naia shrugged. “I don’t see how adding babysitting to my mission makes it any easier. But he knows what he’s doing with earth magic, which I guess is useful.”

  “Between those assignments, I believe our immediate needs should be covered,” Micah said.

  “Aaand…” Garen cued Micah to explain his part.

  “Yes, I’m getting there. Your role will be critical as well, but less mired in the threat of war than the others. Even before you shared the spirits’ concerns, Idrian approached me with information about Drake’s situation. Would you be so kind?” Micah motioned to Idrian.

  “Of course,” Idrian closed the book in his lap and stood. “We know of one other who briefly possessed two spirits: water and wind. The story was shared by one of the few living Spellsword Aides, a man who worked alongside Karna, Garen’s grandmother, when she was the Light Spellsword.”

  The information unearthed a sea of mixed emotions in Garen. He knew his grandmother had carried the spirit before them, but he’d never heard a single story about her, nor how his mother ended up with the spirit from her.

  “So, what happened?” Naia asked, eagerly attentive now.

  “As I gathered it, the Water Spellsword Nereus once avenged the death of a Wind Spellsword. Because of it, Nereus possessed both spirits. It led to unprecedented abilities, but he lost part of himself in the process. Nereus was sent to rescue a prisoner during their conflict with the Te’en clans. After drowning and dismembering a few warriors, the remaining dozen surrendered. Nereus proceeded to execute their small clan entirely. His fellow Spellswords were horrified. They could barely overpower him. Once they did, Garen’s grandmother had to intervene, releasing one of the spirits to a new host.”

  Garen couldn’t imagine Drake doing anything so merciless, but the possibility of having to fight and subdue his friend gave him chills. “Release how?” he asked.

  Idrian sighed. “That part, I’m unsure of. I wish I’d pressed for more details at the time, but I was distracted by too many other stories to indulge myself in that one. I’m hoping Egan, the Aide who shared that story, is still alive where I last met him.”

  “Yes,” Micah said, “Garen, you’ll be traveling east with Idrian to determine how she separated the spirits, all with the hope you can do the same.”

  Garen thought about it for a minute. He wasn’t thrilled about leaving the dangerous matters to everyone else while he went off to listen to stories. He had a better idea to find out how his grandmother did it.

  Garen looked down. “Hey Kallista, I’m not asking you to tell me about the Wind Spirit. So don’t freak out, okay? Can you just explain how she moved a spirit between hosts?”

  After a long pause, Kallista spoke with stern regret. Our teaching relationship should end here. I will not tell you what reckless actions she took, and I advise you to discover a different solution.

  Garen didn’t know what to say or how to argue his point. The fact that she was keeping a secret from him di
minished her advice. He wanted to defy her all the more. He turned back to the group. “Never mind, she’s not helping us. But that’s not going to stop me from helping Drake. Let’s go find this Egan guy.”

  Chapter 15

  “I just figured out why I’m so uneasy about this. Remember the last time we went separate ways?” Naia said, refusing to let go of her sister’s embrace.

  “Relax, I’m not going as bait this time. And Garen won’t be able to ruin it from the other side of the world.”

  Garen leaned against a levitrans within obvious earshot. “Hey, you don’t know what I can and can’t do. I’m about to go learn crazy, mystical things. I’ll ruin whatever I want.”

  “Hmm, we are talking about the two-time destroyer of the Theltus Nisdal,” Naia said, finally letting go of Morgan. “Hard to pin down what you can’t break.”

  “I am going to physically force you to leave. We can’t say goodbye all day,” Micah announced.

  “I agree,” Idrian said. “If we leave quickly, we might catch Egan before he closes up shop…assuming he’s still running it.”

  “What shop?” Garen asked.

  “This sounds like a great question for a day-long trip. Please make haste, all of you,” Micah said, louder and more agitated than before. An awkward pause followed, and Micah sighed. “As ever, you have my full confidence. Stay safe.”

  “We’re ready to go,” Drake said, taking Morgan’s hand. All of Morgan’s body tensed up at the contact, and if anyone else noticed, they had the courtesy not to draw attention. Micah moved toward Drake and let the winds wrap around the three of them. He looked back at Garen with a half-trusting smile. Then they were gone.

  Idrian helped Naia onto a saddled horse. She seemed less than confident on the large steed, but no matter how many times Garen had asked, she assured him she’d ridden plenty. Belen sat on a pile of blankets in the small cart attached. There weren’t many relief supplies Idrian had to offer from his estate, but they loaded up all they could carry. Belen waved as Naia cracked the reins and began their slow journey north.

  Garen opened the passenger side of the sleek, silvery levitrans and tried to appreciate every last curve of the machine. This one was slimmer than any he’d seen before. It had only two seats. The metal was elongated in the front to form a point. The air above them was open, but a thick pane of glass extended from the front to shield their faces. There was little space for personal possessions behind the seats. Garen’s sword belt and Idrian’s writing supplies barely fit. Idrian sat beside him and brought the levitrans up to a hover.

  Their silver dart flew into the sky. Garen took a few moments to appreciate the sensation. As the novelty faded, he realized it might be an awkward travel. Neither of them had addressed the fact that he’d tried to break into Idrian’s home earlier this year. Idrian had done a remarkable kindness, first by letting him leave and second by not telling the others. Garen was on thin ice with Micah’s trust, and a story like that wouldn’t help restore the king’s confidence.

  “Thanks,” Garen said. “For not going into detail about how we met.”

  Idrian smiled. “I suspected it had nothing to do with the Spellswords, since you didn’t know me. And I’m embarrassed to admit…I didn’t recognize you at the time.”

  Garen had wondered as much. He was still skeptical. “So, you’re telling me you’d have done that, letting me go and loaning a horse, for anyone?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Very little was lost. All it took was a day spent repairing glass and a favor to have Bramblehoof returned from the capital. Well, perhaps a bit of damage to dignity, but here you are restoring that now. I feel justified in choosing not to fret over those kinds of things. If I had recognized you as Seth’s son, I’d have cancelled my plans and taken you to Vikar-Tola myself. Like I said, I’m the embarrassed one.”

  Garen laughed. It made him happy knowing there were people out there like Idrian, people his father helped to make the world a better place. But even those details were a mystery to him. “You told me a little about how you met my dad. You tried to steal from him and he let you go. So, how does that lead to Micah coming to you in a crisis like this?”

  “Well, if I implied that was the last I saw of your father, forgive my brevity. Seth did much more than that. He recruited me as a Spellsword Aide, at least until my lack of depth became an issue. I think some of them wanted to get rid of me, but I had nowhere else to go. Your mother was quite generous with her time, training me every chance she had so that I could keep up.”

  Garen’s eyes kept growing wider with every word. “I can’t believe you were one of them!”

  Idrian hid a bashful smile. “For a brief time, yes. In those days there were six of us: Seth, Layna, Argus, Nereus, Elic, and me. The empire was ever-expanding, and unless we caused trouble for the emperor, we answered to no one. We did what seemed right, and that was enough. Sometimes that saved a lot of lives. Sometimes we fought battles we had no business in.”

  Idrian took increasing pride as the story continued. “It was my opinion that the Spellswords’ lack of direction was holding them back even more than my lack of depth. So, I arranged an audience with Emperor Tibalt Jundux. I convinced him a separate role should be employed by the empire that specifically directed the Spellswords. And for six years, from when you were just a baby to when your family left Vikar-Tola, I was lucky enough to do exactly that.”

  Part of Garen ached hearing him talk about lives he never got to witness. It was a welcome pain, though. He wanted to know more. Idrian took Garen’s grin as a sign to go on.

  “Well, that position put me at the center of the empire’s needs. When crimes were committed with unusually strong magic, I would send the Spellswords in. It was exhilarating and terrifying, imagining that our tiny group was the only thing standing between a unified empire and utter chaos.”

  “What tore it apart?” Garen asked.

  An invisible weight tugged at Idrian’s smile. His enthusiasm faded. “I’m not sure who to blame. It’s possible I deserve some of it. Things just got easier. The Spellswords’ reputation and a bit of civic pride did most of our job for us. Seasons passed with no serious threat to the empire. The only assignments I could gather for them were trivial. Elic’s health faded and he returned to the Ambersongs. You were getting old enough to ask questions, and in exchange for training the emperor’s sons, your parents were given the escape they wanted. Nereus saw everyone else leaving and did the same without so much as a goodbye. That left Argus, and I was not about to send him out on his own. We disbanded, hoping the world was done needing us.”

  Garen nodded, trying to understand. “So, you moved out here and just waited?”

  “Not at first. I continued my research, compiling all the stories I could about Spellswords past and present. But I was stationed at the palace, waiting for the day my services would be needed again. I heard news of Elic’s passing and Drake’s appointment as Wind Spellsword. Years later, word reached me that someone took the life of your mother. When the kingdoms split, I knew the Spellswords’ time would be coming soon. King Micah made my acquaintance and began learning all he could from me. It was an honor I cannot describe.”

  Idrian stopped his story. Garen saw a sharp change in his emotions. Idrian squinted and took a long gaze at the cloudy expanse. “Then, King Micah bestowed enormous wealth to me, dismissed me from my position, and appointed a man named Kiron instead. To this day, I do not know why. But I am grateful to have been of use, and I look forward to serving the Spellswords once again.”

  Garen didn’t normally share information about his past. He didn’t want to admit why Micah had pushed Idrian aside, but Garen couldn’t keep it from him, not if he’d spent this many years wondering. He told Idrian how he accidentally took his mother’s life. He explained Micah’s burden and why the king created the false name Kiron. Garen was able to recount the least and most traumatic tales of his short time as a Spellsword. Idrian was the perfect audience, respectful
yet genuinely interested.

  Garen was actually disappointed when the city of Russyx came into view. Under different circumstances, he could have sat and shared stories with Idrian for days. But the unique colors and shapes of the sprawling city ahead stole his attention.

  Unlike most Eastern settlements, Russyx was more than a day by foot from the River Rojand. It was the furthest north of the seven major Eastern cities, close enough to see the dark caps of the Te’en Mountains. But despite the distance, it maintained a reputation as the largest source of unique and inspired craftsmanship in all three kingdoms.

  The city had no walls. It seemed to welcome travelers inside. They landed in a plot of smooth stone that Idrian told him existed just for people to park their levitrans. Russyx catered heavily to those with exceptional means of travel, and the hundreds of unique stores, boutiques, and eateries kept those people coming back.

  The city was smaller than Kalyx and had only a few towering buildings. It still had the same over-polished appeal. He couldn’t tell where the market ended and residences began. The stone-forged, brightly colored buildings seemed to contain a good deal of both.

  Almost all of them held some kind of specialty shop on the first floor. Windows lined the fronts. Even in the late afternoon, Garen watched the crowds wander aimlessly. Their eyes almost pressed against the glass, then wandered on. Garen didn’t understand the point of letting people see what you had for sale from the outside. All it seemed to do was keep people from coming inside.

  Most of the produce was still brought in by carts. Merchants housed anything more permanent inside the endless rows of shops. An abundance of smells filled the air. Vividly dyed clothing hung on display. The artisan creations of metal and stonework caught Garen’s eye most. The sun reflected brightly off a pair of freestanding metal arches. He couldn’t tell if they were for decoration or sale. In another building he saw hanging sheets of colored glass. The light played with them just as freely. Statues, windows, and slabs of wood—all for a price. He didn’t know what to do with any of it, but part of him wanted to play in their world of workshops.