by Paul Heisel
Kara came over while the old woman departed. She had discarded her outer robe, revealing her bare arms. The green snake was bright and lifelike, sending shivers into Feln. The tattoo was exactly like the Furies he had seen in Pyndira. She was wearing a skimpy black halter top and short silk pants that went to her calves. She had pulled her hair back and had tied it, now she looked more like the Kara that he remembered. She brought a fluffy, medium-sized pillow from her bed and tossed it on the ground near the table. She reclined on the rug and propped up her torso with the pillow and her arms.
“I would offer you a pillow, but I already know your answer,” she said.
“Thank you for your hospitality. I do appreciate,” he motioned to the tea, “all of this.”
“What is this urgent matter?”
“I have come to see Owori.”
Kara put her chin in her hands, resting her elbows on the outermost part of the pillow. Moments passed. “I don’t know how to tell you this.”
He felt lightheaded. “I prefer the direct truth.”
“There has been a tragic…event,” she said, but didn’t elaborate further.
“What happened? Where’s Owori?”
“Owori stands accused of murdering one of our instructors, Jerr. Our ranks are in a state of shock and outrage – you can imagine how angry the monks are. All the guards are making sure no one takes matters into their own hands. Tensions are high.”
This didn't make any sense. Why would there be vigilante monks? “Where is she? Is she safe?”
“She has fled, and I don’t know where, and I don’t know if she’s safe or not. Owori has incredible talents, so she could go anywhere she wanted. I wish she would have stayed here to straighten things out. Despite the accusation, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation of what happened. But without her here, no one knows what really happened last night.”
“Last night? She can’t be far away then. Where did she go?”
“We don’t know.”
“Someone has to know!” Feln didn’t understand all of this. He knew Owori well. It wouldn’t matter if she was accused of a crime, she wouldn’t run away. Yes, she would find refuge if threatened, but she wouldn’t avoid a problem. This whole situation made him nervous, and he wasn't sure if he should believe Kara’s story. With the Grand Master taking so many precautions and the Bora monastery similarly secured, Feln considered it too much of a coincidence to not be related. Owori accused of murder? Nonsense! What bothered him was this; if Owori fled, then why the need for the security? Why was everyone else a danger to each other? He needed to speak with another monk, to either confirm or contradict Kara's story. His guess was Owori just happened to be in the middle of the problem. The question was, where would she go? Would she go back to Waskhal? She couldn’t be that far away if she only had a one-day start! He could catch her! “Kara, please understand I’m coming to Bora without knowing why Owori was here. I haven’t spoken to her, anyone, since we were separated in the tunnel beneath Borgard.”
She acknowledged that with a nod while she pondered his statement. The tea was emitting wisps of steam from the spout, sending the cinnamon aroma into the room. Feln watched as Kara closed her eyes, she was doing an exercise, then in one controlled fluid motion she contracted her body, twisted, and came to a sitting position on the pillow. She poured the tea into the waiting bowls and put the pot aside.
“When the tunnel came down,” she began, “we thought you were dead.”
“Kara, I need to find Owori. Who can I talk to that would know where she is?”
“No one knows where she is. If you can, I would appreciate your help finding her. You knew her well, perhaps any clues you find may lead us to her? All I ask is this; anything you discover, you will share with us. And if you find her, you will bring her back here so we can sort this out.”
Feln's stomach fluttered. There was more to the story, but Kara wasn't sharing. All she wanted was for him to help bring her to justice. He wasn't about to betray Owori, no matter what the circumstances. There had to be an explanation.
“Tell me what happened,” Feln said.
“How about you tell me what happened to you. I'll trade you, a story for a story.”
“You start. Tell me what happened after the tunnels collapsed.” Feln sipped his tea, noting she seemed relieved he wasn’t asking about what happened to Owori last night. “It will help me understand how we got here.”
Kara told the tale, only stopping to drink her tea or collect her thoughts. Feln visualized what was happening, realizing he was a hundred feet from Owori, even less when he was trapped in the storage room. The timing of it all was unsettling. “After the Accord of the Hand took control of Borgard, what happened?” Feln asked.
“Owori and I were put in charge of the transition of the kingdom. It was rather uneventful. After two weeks, other monks came and relieved us. You know, Owori kept looking for you every extra moment she had.”
Feln nodded. The story she told was believable. It would be difficult, though, for him to tell a truthful story about his disappearance. For all he knew, Kara was a Fury from Pyndira, and any slip of the tongue could indicate where he went. Unconsciously, he touched the belt at his waist, happy it was hidden. Revealing he was part of Pyndira could have unintended consequences. He wanted to tell her that he had been trapped in the dungeon and had barely survived, but they knew through Makison that he had left the prison and gone into the castle. This was going to be difficult to fashion a believable story. He was thankful he spent a lot of time crafting a lie that he loathed telling. It was not like him to be untruthful.
“And what of you?”
He began with a detailed description of the cave in, how he struggled to get out of the dirt, and how he found Makison. He talked about how he released Makison after promises were exchanged. There was no mention of Velinole or of his mother or of the belt. That reminded him that he asked Makison to give his mother a proper burial, and he wondered if it had been done. One day he would find out. If not, he would take her remains back to Pyndira, cremate them, and place them in Safun. It was the right thing to do. At the point in the story where he was taking Makison up the stairs from the dungeon into the castle, a knock came at Kara’s door. It wasn’t soft, nor was it waiting for an answer. A monk charged in without permission. He was dressed in a gray robe distinctly different than normal monk robes.
“Master Kara,” he said. He glanced at Feln, the pillows on the floor, and back to Kara, as if he expected to see them sharing more than stories.
“This better be important.”
“Ash…” he began, then stopped. “Perhaps we should speak in private.”
“There’s nothing you can’t say in front of my guest,” she said. “He is a monk of the Accord of the Hand. What happened?”
“Ash was patrolling the grounds and he ran into a group of Jerr’s Furies, who were trying to leave the monastery grounds. There was a fight – Ash – he might be dead, I don't know. I fear if we don’t act quickly, this may get completely out of control.”
Kara was on her feet in flash and darted across the room. She slipped on leather boots, grabbed weapons, and put on a black robe. Feln stood up while he watched her get ready. Not sure what to do, he tried to catch her eye, but she was intent on getting outside as quickly as she could.
“Kara,” Feln said. “If this involves Owori, then I want to help.”
“This is not your fight,” she replied. “Stay here until I get back, and we'll finish our conversation. Don’t go anywhere. I would be devastated if you were hurt or injured for no reason.”
“What’s going on?” he asked. “If it's related to Owori, then I should be part of it.”
Kara and the monk in gray exchanged glances.
“Not now,” Kara stated, as if it were cast in stone. “Stay here.” She turned to the monk in the gray robe. “Have the others been notified?”
“Yes. The Orchids come to assist. We’ve sent for the Elite
s to help, but you know…” he looked at Feln, “we can’t find her. We can never find her when she’s needed.”
“You’re in charge of the Zephyrs until we can find Ash,” Kara said. She was ready and turned to Feln. “Once things have quieted down, I’ll return. Please make yourself comfortable.”
The two sped out the door, closing it behind them. Feln didn’t know what to make of all this, and he couldn’t quell his curiosity. The only reason for her to keep him here was so he couldn't witness what was going on. Whatever was happening she didn't want him to see. A sense of duty to the Accord of the Hand crept in, causing him to wander toward the door. If he could stay out of site, hidden, he could observe what was going on and report to Caleth if it was bad. If it was nothing, he would continue the conversation with Kara and see how he could help find Owori. Feln blinked, went out the door, and followed them, thankful he did as guards took up positions at the door to keep him from leaving.
#
The smell of ash and soot was the first thing to hit him. He was still invisible, channeling his chi, keeping close to the building to avoid any chance of detection. Across the expanse of the innermost parts of the monastery grounds he could see that a building was on fire. Monks were running and seeking cover, others were gathering in groups. The fire brigade was calling for water and buckets. There were angry shouts, and he could see bodies on the ground. Monks ran to pull the injured to safety, the dead they left for now. He lost sight of Kara. The light from the fire intensified, interfering with his ability to see in the distance. Not wanting to risk getting caught in the crossfire, Feln stayed back and observed from a safe spot behind a stout marble statue of a monk.
A fireball flashed across the open, streaking through the darkness toward a group of monks. They scattered, except for one, who threw up his arms and deflected the fireball aside where it impacted on a building. A shower of flames and sparks lit up the night, a shock wave carried through the area and knocked people over. Lightning came from the darkness, jumping from monk to monk, injuring and killing many. Feln couldn't believe it; this was an all-out battle of Furies. Feln was curious enough to continue watching, but the more sensible part of him thought it was best to leave before it deteriorated further. Owori wasn’t here, and he wasn’t going to get the opportunity to inquire about her further unless he stayed in the middle of the conflict. Now he knew why Kara wanted him to stay inside, there was an internal struggle in Bora and it included numerous Furies, their existence hidden from the Grand Master. The whole monastery was at war with itself. Now he, an outsider, was a witness to it. Was this why security in Sabrin was so tight? The question he had was, what in shades was Owori doing here? If she had been expelled from Sabrin and the Grand Master knew where she was, then his only conclusion was a link between the two. Caleth wouldn’t part ways with Owori, he was just as loyal to her as she was to him. Owori, he figured, had been here to spy on Kara. Most likely she was discovered, defended herself, and brought about the situation. Where would she flee?
A group of monks came into view, all dressed in golden robes. Leading them into the fray was a striking woman, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She had the most determined look on her face that Feln had ever seen. Without thinking, Feln blinked and let the group of monks go by. He caught part of their conversation, but there was no context to what he heard. There was talk of murder. As they passed, Feln devised an exit plan, and when the right moment came, he departed. One last look behind him and he saw the blonde woman greeting the dark-haired Kara. Strangely they were yelling at each other. He was certain that these Furies were going to leave Bora in rubble.
#
There was so much confusion in the monastery that Feln made it to the city easily. Reserve troops were called to help manage the situation, and Feln was astounded by the numbers of soldiers heading toward the monastery. It was going to get bloodier, if not worse, unless someone took control. There was a pang of guilt, a part of him that thought he should have stayed behind and found a way to assist, but he wasn’t sure what to make of Kara and her Furies. He wondered, who’s side should I be on? If the conflict escalated and he was present, then it would have been impossible to remain neutral. It was best that he got away when he did. Kara wouldn’t know where he went or why he left, and that would make her angry. At this point, he didn’t care – what was done was done. Owori wasn’t in Bora any longer, so he didn’t need to be there. Maybe she was on the road to Waskhal and if he moved quickly, he would catch her. He prayed for good luck that she was heading that way, not to Sabrin or another location. He had to go to Waskhal anyway, reflecting that he should have gone there in the first place. At least there he would have gotten answers from Caleth.
He traveled out of town toward Waskhal at a good pace. He looked back at the hill where the monastery was and he could see more flames. The fight was escalating. Feln picked up the pace, figuring the farther away from Bora the better, and the closer he got to Waskhal meant answers. Hopefully he would find Owori along the road, a slim chance, but he could hope with every fiber in his being.
#
The days of travel were taking a toll and it felt like weeks had passed since he had proper rest and recuperation. He didn’t found Owori along the road, but it didn’t discourage him. He was on the outskirts of Waskhal now, taking in the sights and smells of his home. The outermost farms were peaceful at this time of morning except for a few farmers who were starting their day earlier than normal. The sun peaked over the horizon in the east, and a golden glow settled on the city ahead of him. Waskhal. Home. He was excited and nervous, hoping desperately that Owori made it here ahead of him.
The city looked normal to him, the businesses were the same and the streets had the same worn look to them. The market was ramping up for a busy day. The feel of it, though, was different. It felt old and weathered, and even though he knew the palace in Safun was probably older than Waskhal, there was a vibrancy lacking here. Maybe it was Pyndira’s aura that was absent, a mystical feeling that Malurrion didn’t have. He wasn’t sure. Ahead of him the monastery sat. There was activity, the bustle of a regular day just starting. He smiled. The buildings made him feel comfortable, and for the first time since returning from Pyndira, he was at ease. Monks began greeting him with joyous bows, hugs, and they were all questioning where he had been. He pressed on, though, intent on finding Caleth and where Owori was. The old church, now Caleth’s quarters he was told, came into view. Feln recognized the basic design as being similar to buildings he had seen in Emesia and Safun. It strengthened his firm belief that Pyndira and Malurrion shared a common link in their histories, and he knew at some point he would figure all of it out. That information was in Pyndira, he was sure of it, and all he had to do was find it. Feln approached the door and went by the guards who greeted him with enthusiasm. Once inside the church proper, he went directly for Caleth’s new quarters, his eyes not lingering too long on the old finishes and the scars of a fire from long ago. Through the next doorway he found a familiar face.
“TeBroo, well met,” Feln said.
The dark monk’s face lit up and his smile was glorious. “Feln!” He rushed forward and hugged his Accord of the Hand brother. “This is most unexpected. Caleth will be pleased to see you!”
“As I him. Is he here?”
“Yes, inside his office already today, going over reports. He’s about to make his rounds to the businesses. It’s good to see you! Welcome home! I’m sure there’s a fantastic story behind all this and I’m looking forward to hearing it.”
“I’m looking forward to telling it. Later then TeBroo?”
“Yes. Over ales. This calls for a celebration! You’re back!”
Feln slipped through the next set of doors and went to Caleth’s office. He knocked, but didn’t wait for an answer and went inside. With the door behind him closed, Feln took a deep breath and gazed toward his master. There was Caleth, sitting at his desk, sandy blonde hair askew. He was in fighting c
lothes and next to him was a steaming pot of tea. This was the man who took him in ten years ago, who helped hide him from the tyranny of the Borgards. There was so much he owed Caleth.
“Well met, Feln,” Caleth said, his look was serious. His face contorted as he was trying to keep the serious look on his face, but he couldn’t. The smile took over. “Well met. I wondered when you would finally appear.”
“Well met my friend. I'm sorry that my message was cryptic.”
Caleth came from behind the desk and gave Feln a warm hug.
“It’s been too long. What happened?”
“More on that later. Where’s Owori?”
The smile dropped from Caleth’s face. “You didn’t hear?”
Feln watched as Caleth signaled to him with his hands.
Danger.
“No, I didn’t,” Feln said.
“She left the Accord of the Hand. I don’t know where she went.”
Feln nodded and he didn’t know what to say in response. Clearly Caleth didn’t want to talk about it in the open. It meant that something else was going on in addition to Owori’s disappearance. Sabrin, Bora, and Waskhal were each in some state of turmoil or readiness. He found it hard to believe that they all couldn't be interrelated.
“Come with me. We can get caught up while we walk.”
They went out into the city, strolling along the avenues to different businesses, establishments, and merchants. The people he met with appreciated Caleth staying in touch with what was going on inside his city, and this led to a more harmonious coexistence between the monastic government and the sprawling city beyond the monastery walls. Any taxes levied were hard for anyone to swallow, but Caleth made sure the businesses felt like they had adequate access to the monastery’s leaders. He had shared insight into the inner workings of the Waskhal monastery with them so they would understand what their coin was supporting. He and others on his staff spent time building the relationships, and thus far, it had worked well.