Lighter Days, Darker Nights (Rune Breaker)

by Porter, Landon

  This drew a haughty sniff from Kaiel. “A bit of penny candy is not going to ruin someone's taste.”

  “It's all Motsey asks for these days.” Rai folded her arms and gave him a stern look.

  “Human children do the same thing.”

  “And that's why you're all over-large and slow.” Rai snickered.

  Kaiel rolled his eyes at her and set off, leading them toward the Merchant's Quarter.

  ***

  Taylin's wings were pulled tight against her body, feathers ruffled and standing up in some places. She had not appreciated being measured by the armorer, or the tailor. Watching her still bristling with agitation a half hour later, Raiteria was starting to think it was a bad idea bringing her into an outfitter's with such an extensive selection of weapons.

  Gove-Harmon and Brothers was one of the best outfitters in Daire City, owing in large part to their barter policy on magical devices. Most of those were weapons. Some bore simple enchantments to keep their edge honed, to reinforce their hafts and striking surfaces, others did elaborate and unlikely things. Taylin was curiously reading a small wooden placard attached to a high quality rapier, which had only one known enchantment on it.

  “Why would anyone need a sword that purifies water?”

  Rai shrugged. She had no need to buy anything until the day the caravan left and was just enjoying Taylin's near indignity at some of the more impractical uses of alchemy and magic. Kaiel was elsewhere, browsing the meager selection of books and she had no idea where Ru was.

  “My best guess is that all the schools of wizardry you hear about, especially the ones set up by Nov Princes, churn out more hedge wizards than anyone knows what to do with. And when you don't have the skill even to help protect your enclave from minor spirit beasts, you help out any way you can.”

  “By making useless magic swords?” Taylin asked.

  “And then selling them to rich, stupid travelers who get impressed by any spark of magic, yes.” Rai nodded. “You’ll get used to it. Every person with more coin than sense in the big cities has a sword that glows, or books that turn their own pages.”

  Taylin didn't hide her disappointment well. “Growing up, even though I hated the choirs, I always thought that magic was something special...”

  Rai reached up and patted her sister's arm. “It's just like everything else, Taylin. Take tailoring; anyone with enough time and a care can figure out how to make a homespun shirt that keeps the sun off your back, but a real master can haul a string out of a worm's ass and make a dress so beautiful that any woman who puts it on can outshine Hessa.”

  At the mention of the Goddess of healing and light, someone laughed musically. Both woman turned to find the source and found a third woman standing there, arms draped over the metal haft of a spear that rested across her shoulders.

  She was clearly of elven blood; slender without being skinny by any means, with almond shaped, green eyes and the soft, brown skin of the elves of northern Novrom. From there, the similarities to elves ended. Her ears stuck up, not out, even if they did have points, and no elf either of them had seen had blonde hair, even ash blonde, and elves and even half elves almost universally had long, thin noses instead of this woman's wider, more flat one.

  “I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” She said quickly, hoping to mitigate any offense they might have taken. “I was actually coming over to ask if you were from the caravan.” Taylin knew that the question was directed at Rai, as no one would connect seven feet of height and two fire-colored wings with 'halfling caravan'.

  Taylin took a moment to size the woman up. That spear meant business. Taller than the woman carrying it, the head was eight inches long and five wide at the base of its tear-shaped head, which was notched and sharpened for grievously ripping flesh. A bow-shaped crossbar sat immediately behind the head and was drilled with holes through which iron rings were threaded and jangled gently whenever she moved. It was both extra weight to go behind the head, and useless looking frippery to distract from the murderously designed head.

  Considering the deadly instrument she carried, the woman herself was remarkably under-armored, wearing a simple, but well-made white shirt under a thin vest of blue-dyed leather. Her skirt was rough, light colored canvas and slit up the front to reveal pants of the same material beneath. The only real protection she had were a heavy leather belt loaded with mismatched pouches, and boots with so much metal plating on them that they seemed a match for Kaiel's favorite hat. The only thing she had that looked of any worth besides the spear, was a silver chain upon which was a miniature amphora made of red blown glass, girded by a web of silver filaments.

  While Taylin was indulging old habits from her previous life, Rai was being far friendlier, offering up her hand for the other woman to shake. “That we are. Raiteria matei-Harun, clan of the Winter Willow. This is my sister, Taylin.”

  There was a moment of quiet puzzlement before the blonde decided not to question the lack of family resemblance. “Brin of Rolling Meadows Enclave.” She took one arm off the spear to shake hands, then offered the same to Taylin, who hesitated before taking it briefly. “I was wondering if your clan was bound for Kinos, I'm hoping to buy passage for two.”

  “Two?” Rai asked.

  Brin gestured further down the aisle were a younger woman, a full human, was marveling at a peg board covered with daggers that glowed on command. She couldn't have been more than seventeen, and from the look of her homespun, faded maroon dress, she'd never been past the walls of her farming enclave. Mud and the remnants of an attempt to wash out blood hinted at the reason she wasn't still there.

  What set her apart were the heavy leather glove she wore on one arm, the thick, starched collar draped over her shoulders, and the magnificent falcon on one of said shoulders. The bird's plumage was dark brown with orange tail feathers, and a white and black speckled belly. Though it was hooded, it seemed well aware of everything around it.

  “Layaka Emeries, of the Idarian Homestead. I came upon the place traveling here from Rivenport. Spirit beasts hit it; lots of minor ones. Not a single person there had any ash chalk, and from what I could tell, no one even thought to use fire. They didn't stand a chance. A second wave of them came while I was there—I had to fight our way out of there.”

  That was something Taylin didn't need to ask about. Even in the time of the War of Ascension, spirit beasts were something to be feared. Any living creature could become infected by the so called 'divinity sparks' and become something powerful, almost unstoppable. There were as many different kinds as there were living things, and it seemed that only immolation could permanently end their lives.

  The hailene feared them, and wanted to control them. Once, Taylin had been sent as part of a detail to capture one that had been an eagle before becoming sparked. Her group never encountered it. After seeing the flattened acre of forest left in its wake, the leader of the expedition decided to leave it alone.

  She understood the horror the girl must have lived through. “And she was the only survivor, wasn't she?”

  Brin nodded, looking grim. “Aye. She says she's got an uncle in Kinos that'll take her in though, which is all well and good for me, as I'm contracted with the Historical Guild to make a delivery to their offices there.”

  “You'll need to speak with our Grandmother.” Rai said, but her expression was so full of sympathy that it was clear that if she had any say, there was already a spot in the caravan for the two. “But I'm sure we'd be happy to have you along. What coin do you have?”

  “I've Calleni shields, Novish marks, and Harpsfell banknotes, whichever you prefer.”

  “Banknotes travel lighter.” Rai reasoned. “Five notes a day each sound fair?” Brin nodded. “Good. We'll be here probably three days, then in a week, Threpara for another three. We should have you in Kinos within three weeks.”

  Before Brin could reply, Kaiel wandered into the aisle, arguing with Ru, who floated along behind him.

  “I tell you, it's
true. You and I both know that psychic energy can replace Void in most applications, so why is it so difficult to believe that discarnate energy can replace Anima?”

  “Because it fundamentally undermines the purpose of Anima.” Ru had his arms folded and Taylin could tell that this wasn't just Ru having fun harassing Kaiel; this was a serious argument. “Mind can replace Void as driving energy, but not as part of a structure. But there is no useful structure to be had using either half of Anima. You are trying to tell me that this 'discarnate' energy obviates both vitae and nekras and I say it cannot.”

  “Actually, you're wrong about the structural difference.” Kaiel pounced on the point. “Ghosts and specters are naturally occurring...” He trailed off when he noticed Brin. Instantly, his posture changed, going from the slightly hunched lope of a man in intense argument, to a straight-backed, proud stance that would have made any full loreman proud.

  His city attire helped. Wherever his impressive wardrobe came from (Taylin had yet to discover it), he outdid himself dressing for a foray into Daire. His shirt was silk and the color of a clear summer sky, his trousers were fine, white cotton, tied with a gold colored silk sash. His elegantly draped cloak was exceedingly soft, white leather, which flowed like expensive linen and was closed with a brooch bearing the crest of the Bardic College of Harpsfell along with three ruby pips along the bottom of its silver setting to show how far along he was on the path of the loreman. For the first time since Taylin had met him, his hair was tied back in a short tail; apparently stylish back in Harpsfell.

  An open, inviting smile replaced his Ru-induced scowl. “Rai, Taylin. Forgive me, I didn't know you were having a conversation. I wouldn't have interrupted so rudely.”

  Rai smirked and nudged Taylin's hip with her elbow. “Oh, no interruption at all, Keese Kaiel.” Her smirk grew as he fought back embarrassment at his first name. “Brin of Rolling Meadows Enclave, Keese Kaiel Arunsteadeles. Keese Kaiel is a chronicler from the Bardic College. Brin is hoping to buy passage with us to Rivenport.”

  “Charmed.” With a truly heroic effort, Kaiel avoided glaring at Rai as he took Brin's hand.

  “Likewise, Mr. Arunsteadeles. I think I know that name...”

  “Kaiel, please. And you might: my father's written some books on the Era of Draconic Control and my mother teaches at university in Rivenport.”

  “That may have been where I heard it then. I'm just up from Rivenport.” said Brin.

  “Daire is a bit out of the way if you were headed for Kinos, isn't it?”

  As Brin started to tell Layaka's story again, Taylin became aware of a change in Ru's emotions in the link. The permeating frustration with what he saw as idiocy had receded, replaced with open disdain and ridicule toward the chronicler. She inquired after it.

  Just observe, Miss Taylin. He replied and spoke not a word more on the subject.

  Kaiel couldn't help but offer his theories on what attacked Layaka's homestead, and when he discovered that Brin was contracted with the Historical Society, he was off to the races. His father was a member and his mother had been as well before retiring to be a scholar. He offered freely to Brin just as much information as it took Taylin and Rai weeks to glean.

  Just when Ru was near to expressing his disgust with whatever he found objectionable about the conversation, Layaka scampered over, gleefully brandishing a gaudy, glittering kris. The wavy bladed dagger was favored in the south of Vini Tresolm.

  “Miss Brin! Miss Brin! I've found the one I want!”

  Excusing herself from her conversation with Kaiel, Brin turned to see what he girl was talking about. Immediately, she grabbed the girl's wrist. “'Aka! The first thing you need to know about any weapon is that you don't go waving it around like a Kimean raider!” The girl cast her eyes downward at the reprimand, causing Brin's next words to come more gently. “Let's have a look at it.”

  She took up the placard and read it aloud. “Gaan Mistle, the Star Shower Blade. Silver plated, enchanted for a keen edge. A secondary enchantment surrounds the blade with a cloud of light motes that can be commanded to surround the eyes of a creature whose blood it draws.” A look of shock and disgust came to her face. “They want nine hundred marks for this?”

  Layaka looked up with sad, blue eyes, which were partially hidden by a fall of golden hair. “But Miss Brin, you said to pick something out to defend myself with, and I can protect myself with a knife, yes? And the stars are so beautiful; I think even Amet would like it.” Absently, she reached up and stroked the back of the falcon, presumably Amet's, neck.

  Brin sighed. “'Aka, this is barely a knife. This is a toy. I can teach you to fight with a dagger, a small sword or a spear; I can't teach you to fight with a handful of glitter.”

  Eyes still downcast, Layaka nodded. “Yes, Miss Brin. I'm sorry. I just know nothing about weapons.”

  Kaiel stepped in at the moment. “Begging your pardon, but I know a bit about the subject, perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

  Ru huffed under his breath and muttered aloud to Taylin. “And so the entire day is wasted.”

  Chapter 5 – Seeds of Doubt

  It was eventually decided that it would be a waste for Layaka to have a spell-worked weapon if she didn't know how to use it. Brin bought her a well balanced arming sword, which Kaiel promised to personally enchant if she advanced in her studies with it.

  Then, much to Kaiel's delight, Rai invited the pair to join them in their explorations of Daire City.

  Eventually, Kaiel and Ru became distracted in a bookseller's shop, and Layaka and Rai ended up across the street, where Rai was in a spirited argument with steamed bun vendor over his prices. This gave Taylin an opportunity to approach Brin on her own.

  The other woman was casually browsing the dime novels, spear leaned lazily over her shoulder.

  “That's quite a weapon there.” Taylin said awkwardly. Talking to new people was still strange to her and starting the conversation was even stranger.

  Brin ducked her head. “It's an heirloom from all the way back near the beginning of the Age of Tragedies. Its name is Barratta, meaning--”

  “Thousand strikes” Taylin said automatically.

  “Right.” Brin smiled. “I suppose I should have expected a hailene to know hailene-de...”

  “Ang'hailene.” Taylin corrected.

  “You call yourself that willingly? I've known a few and using that word with them is like telling a miare to turn to ash.”

  Taylin gave her a blank look.

  Brin returned it. “What?”

  “I'm... not certain what you mean by 'miare', or that phrase. I've heard it before, but no one's explained it.”

  More confusion laced Brin's features. “Where are you from that you've never heard of the Ashing? It happened before my time, but it's not exactly lost to history.”

  Kaiel appeared from around a corner so quickly that Ru couldn't have done better through teleportation. His arms were laden with books and he had a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. “You'll have to excuse Taylin.” He said quickly. “Her upbringing sheltered her from much of the goings on in the world. She's only been seeing what modern life is like for about a month.”

  Taylin suppressed a smile. It was amazing how much the chronicler could lie while telling the truth.

  “Oh, I'm sorry.” Brin said.

  “Nonsense.” Kaiel answered for Taylin, stepping up beside her. “I suppose it's good to explain these things now before she unknowingly says or does something that ends up offending.” He inclined his head to Taylin. “The miare are one of the sylvan races, that is, created by the Goddess Sylph.”

  Though she knew that the lecture was more to display his knowledge to Brin, Taylin listened appreciatively. The more she knew about her new world, she reasoned, the higher the quality of her new life.

  “The sylvan races were largely isolationist, especially during the Age of Tragedies. Unfortunately, the Age came to them in the form of a holy war waged in the
name of Denaii from the nation that would become Calderia.”

  “In Denaii's name?” Taylin asked, “But--”

  “I know.” Kaiel said, looking sympathetic. “Denaii is a god of order and righteousness, but the Calderian's interpretation of his teachings is xenophobic and destructive. They hated the sylvan races most of all, and some thirty-odd years ago, they unleashed... something against them and their home. No one knows for certain what they did, but there was once a nation bounded by Callen, Chordin and the Strait of Nivia—now it's gone. There's nothing there but haunted ash and monsters.”

  Brin fidgeted uncomfortably at the retelling, or possibly the vision of the place left behind. Taylin gaped. Not even the hailene had a weapon like that, and they had in their possession ship based magical weapons that could destroy flights of dragons.

  “This is what we now call the Ashed Land, and the event is called the Ashing of the Green, from which society has created many oaths and curses; and rightly so.” Kaiel said in a somber tone. “The horror forced the Thirteen Nations Accord, ending the Age of Tragedies...for most. Sylph saved many of her people, took them up to dwell on her palace on the green moon, but the miare remained; trying to integrate into society without a homeland.”

  Brin's face turned sour. “By bowing and scraping to any other race they come across.”

  Kaiel frowned at this. “Now that's hardly fair. The miare maintain the level of etiquette from their old culture and it's helped them become very successful in Novrom and Mindeforme.”

  “The lasconti abandoned it and they're beloved in story and song.” Brin shot back.

  Taylin looked at Kaiel for explanation.

  The chronicler frowned at Brin as if she'd slapped him, but explained anyway. “Another surviving sylvan race; they were part of a larger species called hengeyokai; shapeshifters with both animal and humanoid forms. The lasconti are spiders, and in the Age of Tragedies, they broke their isolation and some made names for themselves which have in turn romanticized the entire race.”