Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies

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Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies Page 40

by Charles E Yallowitz


  “You probably think that it was foolish on my part, which I cannot entirely disagree with. There was always the option of escaping, but that would have left the wolf for dead.” Lord Perrin begins to nervously rub her arms and her eyes tear up. “I felt such sorrow and admiration for this beast that I surrendered myself to him. Besides, I had lived my life and had nothing but the road ahead of me. The wolf could always find another pack and sire children.”

  “How are you alive?” Luke interrupts when Perrin stops to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  “Uli chose me to be one of her agents,” Perrin says, a proud glint in her silver eyes. “She was so impressed with my actions that she returned me to life and merged me with the wolf. Our minds became siblings while our bodies became one. So, the wolf form, as you put it, is my best friend, my brother, and my loyal companion.”

  “It’s all very confusing,” Luke admits, scratching his head.

  “To put it simply, the wolf and I coexist in this body because of the will of Uli,” Lord Perrin concludes, hoping to clear Luke’s confusion and move on. “Now, we must discover what you can do. So, where do we begin?”

  “Is there any way to find out how many gifts I have? Knowing that might give us a clue,” Luke suggests.

  “If your aura is strong then we can find out,” Perrin says, moving closer to Luke.

  Without warning, Lord Perrin grabs Luke by the hand and stabs a dagger through his palm. A pain-filled scream escapes from Luke’s mouth before he can stop himself. He catches another scream in his throat when the dagger is yanked out of his flesh. He stares at the thick blood oozing down his arm, ignoring Lord Perrin as she leaps onto the stump. She lets his blood drip off the dagger into the stump’s pool of water where it makes an echoing plop. Luke almost forgets about the pain in his hand when he hears the powerful echo fill the clearing, taking four to fade away.

  “It would appear that you have four gifts for us to unlock,” Perrin declares, walking on top of the thorn bushes. “The continuous echo means they are connected to a central gift. That is similar to my gift, which would explain why I was summoned to teach you.”

  “You stabbed me in the hand!” Luke exclaims, pulling a roll of cloth from his belt pouch. He is about to wrap up his hand when Perrin gently touches his wrist. She bends down to blow on the wound, which sends a giddy feeling up his arm. The injury magically peels off Luke’s hand, which shows no sign of ever being pierced.

  “Healing breath. Must be useful,” the half-elf politely admits.

  “It only works on cuts, so I cannot do anything about broken bones, bruises, or any other type of injury. The person must also be alive when I try to heal them,” Perrin says, wincing in pain. “Still, there is a tradeoff. The healing breath leaves me with this.” She raises her left hand to show Luke a fresh scar on her palm.

  “It goes away, right?” Luke asks hopefully.

  “It will only disappear if I heal another palm injury. I can only have one reminder scar per body part,” Lord Perrin explains sadly. Her voice trails off and she talks more to herself. “Now, his gifts obviously don’t include personal healing abilities. I guess his luck has its limits. I have not seen any sign of enhanced agility or reflexes, which would have shown themselves when I attacked earlier. His scream also tells me that his pain threshold is normal. I can forget enhanced strength due to his build and enhanced speed would have appeared on the way to the clearing.” She scratches her hand and nibbles her fingernails. “This is why I hate training those gifted with a transformation form. One never knows how to set off the transformation. We might as well continue with the tests to see what we find, old girl.” She suddenly throws a handful of powder into Luke’s eyes, which he tries to rub away.

  “Am I going to be abused this entire time?” Luke asks with a frustrated stomp of his foot.

  “Yes. Tell me how your senses are acting,” she requests, her voice cold and stern.

  “As you can guess, my eyes are stinging and tearing up. I can still hear everything like I did before including you pulling out that water skin, but I already had the ability to see sounds,” Luke describes with no attempt to hide his annoyance. “Some of the powder got into my mouth and now I can barely feel my tongue. Don’t even get me started on the smell. I don’t know if sulfur can go bad, but I have a feeling that this is what it would smell like.”

  Lord Perrin takes a quick sip of water. “What about your sense of touch?”

  Luke runs his hands along his sleeves. “No change.”

  Perrin splashes water into Luke’s eyes. “No enhanced senses. I could have sworn that at least one would be altered.”

  “Why is that?” Luke asks, blinking his eyes a few times to clear his blurred vision.

  “Forest trackers depend a lot on their senses. A person would be safe to assume that out of four gifts, one of them would be an enhanced sense. If you are a transformation type like me then the chances were even higher because most animals have at least one sense that is superior to our own,” she answers as her curiosity and confusion grows. “Though, there could be a special enhancement. You could have a different type of vision that is only activated in specific situations, much like your hearing sight.”

  “Why would I get something that has so many restrictions?” the half-elf inquires, his voice mildly childish. “A power doesn’t mean much if it’s useless most of the time.”

  “I must remember that youth and wisdom do not go hand in hand. Let me explain this simply,” Perrin says, raising her eyes to the sky in frustration. “Just because you have a power, does not mean you will have a daily use for it. For example, say I had the power to breathe underwater, but my preferred terrain is the desert. I would rarely use such a gift, yet I would still have it. There is always the chance that it may save my life some day, but I would not know this until I found myself about to drown.”

  “So, you’re saying that I might not have an immediate or continuous use for the gifts that I’m given,” Luke guesses. He begins jumping in place to warm up his muscles. “Some of them might not even suit me, but I should cherish them because I might need them.”

  “You are smarter than you make yourself out to be,” Perrin admits with an intrigued smile. “Until now, I thought you were an unobservant child who depended entirely on your instincts.”

  “I can be smart if I have to be. For instance, I sputtered when you splashed water on me, so I doubt I can breathe underwater,” Luke responds with a serious look on his face. “Flying is also off the list because such a power would be easily set off and uncontrollable. I was jumping just now and nothing unusual happened. This would also remove levitation from the list.” Luke pauses, his vision falling on his healed hand. “Hold on a second. Thinking back, something strange happened when you stabbed my hand. I’m going to hate this, but . . . can you lend me a dagger?”

  Lord Perrin considers the request for a few seconds before flipping a dagger over to Luke. He takes a deep breath as he places the tip against his forearm, waiting patiently for his courage to build. Without a second thought, Luke cuts himself and drops the dagger in pain. Perrin is quickly at his side and about to blow on the injury when Luke covers her mouth. He nudges his head toward his arm where his blood is slowly seeping out of the narrow cut. It takes Perrin a second to notice that his blood is a vivid crimson. His thick blood reminds her of fresh tree sap as it oozes down his arm.

  “I don’t know if slow bleeding is a power, but there is definitely something strange about my blood,” Luke whispers after he takes his hand away from his teacher’s mouth. “I wish I knew how to test it for anything other than having the thickness and consistency of tree sap.”

  She doesn’t say a word as she runs her finger through his blood. It feels sticky and leaves a tingling numbness on her fingertips. She sniffs his blood, which gives off a strong, sweet odor that makes her light-headed. Luke grimaces when Perrin licks his blood off her finger.

  “Interesting,” she says.


  “That’s disgusting,” Luke mutters, feeling a little queasy.

  Lord Perrin ignores his comment and takes a drink of water. “It tastes nothing like blood at all. If I was to guess, I would say that your blood is some kind of antidote. It is making me a little dizzy, so it is quite potent. You might want to test it on someone who is sick or poisoned. I do not know how much of a use you would have for such a gift. At the very least, you are a slow bleeder, which is an advantage for a swordsman.”

  “As useful as it is, I don’t think it would be easy to convince my friends to ingest my blood,” Luke points out, sighing in disappointment. “On the plus side, I guess we have one power figured out. Only three more to go.”

  Lord Perrin pulls a narrow scroll out of a breast pouch and lets it unroll along the ground. She silently reads it, looking at Luke a few times before she rolls it up. He is about to ask a question when Lord Perrin pulls a small, amber rock out of her sleeve and throws it at him. It hits his shoulder, which ignites in roaring flames. He is about to yell when she throws a green rock at the fire, covering his shoulder in a mass of ice. Luke’s teeth chatter loudly before she throws a purple rock at him. This time the rock becomes a small bolt of lightning and shatters the ice. Luke can feel his muscles go weak from the electricity.

  “I’m guessing fire, ice, and lightning immunity?” Luke angrily mumbles through clenched teeth.

  “You might have dodged them if I had warned you. I am running out of safe preliminary tests,” Perrin complains, her eyes filling with frustration. “The challenge is that there are multiple versions of every gift and different combinations for every chosen. If I had a year to train you then it would be easier. Instead, I only get a day. I do not like working under these conditions even if you are a quick learner.” She swiftly morphs into her wolf form and begins speaking in a guttural language that Luke doesn’t understand until she is five words into her rant.

  “Don’t curse at me for this. I didn’t request a rushed training period,” Luke snaps defensively.

  “You speak ogre,” Perrin states in disbelief.

  “You were speaking wind-tongue,” the half-elf mentions.

  “I was speaking ogre,” she assures him. She stares at Luke suspiciously until a realization clicks in her brain. “You’re a natural linguist. I never would have expected that considering you are a warrior and not a diplomat. Though, it might extend to animal speech. That would make you a useful spy and tracker. Do you understand what I am saying now?” She breaks into a series of yelps and growls.

  “Something about my hair smelling like swamp toad,” Luke guesses after a few seconds.

  “Correct. It would appear that you can understand any language as long as you concentrate. Although, it doesn’t sound like you know how to speak the language. You might want to buy some language tomes and learn some of the more common tongues of Windemere,” Lord Perrin says, a toothy grin appearing on her face. “I can see this ability opening a doorway of knowledge to you. Just think of the good you can do as an interpreter or a treaty negotiator. You could be a legendary judge if you wished.”

  “That sounds boring,” the half-elf declares, running a hand through his tangled, blonde hair.

  “I heartily agree. Neither of us are the type to settle into a life of politics. I still recommend trying to learn more languages in case you travel further than your ambition can foresee,” Perrin seriously suggests, her ear sticking up. “That leaves two more abilities. One of them could be a combat ability. There is no way to test this without sparring, but I cannot risk injuring you beyond my ability to heal you.”

  “Why are you rushing?” Luke asks curiously. He crouches in front of his teacher in order to look into her deep, predatory eyes. She quickly changes back into her human form and flips over the thorn bushes, gracefully landing on the stump.

  “Traditionally, this training lasts for a full year in the wild. You are an unfortunate special case,” she explains, her voice full of disappointment. “Uli knows that Kalam will come for his spellbook. Your town will need your strength and courage, so I cannot take you away for proper training. I am here to uncover your gifts and leave you on your own to learn how to control them. It is a difficult and risky route for us to take, but the . . . current situation leaves us no alternatives.”

  “You’re being vague,” Luke points out.

  “That is because I do not have any more information to share,” Lord Perrin begrudgingly admits. Her voice and face betray her exhaustion and frustration. “Uli has not seen fit to tell me about your path. All she told me was that I had a day to train you, I could not damage you, and you are the type who works best learning in the field. Do you no longer trust me?”

  Luke thinks carefully before answering. “I trust you, Lord Perrin. I can tell that you wish to be honest with me, but there is something holding your tongue. I understand that you are not allowed to share everything with me. I will honor your situation and no longer pry.”

  “You definitely have a good and trusting heart,” Perrin laughs with a whimsical smile on her face.

  “I’m told that it has always been my weakness,” Luke reveals with a charming grin.

  “A hero without weakness is unable to understand the lives of those he fights to protect. To have weakness is to know that you are a normal person caught up in amazing events,” she declares in a booming voice that makes Luke think she is yelling to the distant gods. “Keep yourself flawed, Luke, and you will be one of the greatest heroes.”

  “I want to know what my remaining abilities are. You said that one will show itself in combat, which leaves us with one more,” Luke states, making a helpless, feeble shrug. “I’m out of ideas.”

  “Let us work under the assumption that this combat ability is your transformation. If so then there is only one thing to do,” Perrin says, taking out her scroll again.

  “What’s that?” Luke nervously asks.

  Perrin ignores his nervousness while checking her list. “We continue testing and going through the list. Antidote blood and natural linguistic abilities are good, but we lucked out on discovering them. I have no idea what form they would be associated with, so we have no way of narrowing the search.” She frowns when she gets halfway down the list. “The remaining gifts are going to be tricky. We have to test your stretchiness and joint flexibility. I have some rope that could help with those tests. I guess we should consider the possibility of you being able to change your gender. It has been known to happen if the person is obsessed with the opposite sex. That test will be easy as long as you’re willing to drop your pants.”

  “Just take my word that it isn’t that,” Luke interrupts. “I think this rushed training is a good thing. A year with you would probably kill me.”

  “Multiple lives is another possibility. I happen to have a resurrection ring here to test that theory. You don’t mind being dead again . . . hey! Do not run away from me! Get back here, Luke!” Lord Perrin shouts, noticing that Luke is sprinting through the trees. He is a shadow in the distance by the time she leaps over the thorn bushes, transforms and rushes after him.

  *****

  Aedyn sighs as he rolls up the collection of scrolls around him and tucks them into his satchel. After having breakfast with Nyx and the Callindors, the priest decided to sit outside and study some scrolls lent to him by Talos. They were nothing more than local history and bard tales, but Aedyn found them fascinating. Now, with the scrolls thoroughly read, he rubs at his sore neck, contemplating if he should get to his feet. The priest smiles mildly and falls onto his back in the soft, thick grass. The midday sun feels warm on his skin, which has gone pale from feeling nothing more than torchlight for three days. He has a hard time remembering the last time he could truly relax and enjoy something as precious as sunlight. A noble heron gracefully soars overhead with its elegant neck folded against its body. Aedyn takes a deep breath of fresh air, his eyes slowly closing. The quiet calm is short-lived when a dull thump startles the priest. He t
urns his head to see the collapsed form of Luke face down in the grass next to him.

  “How was your day of training?” Aedyn asks with an amused smile.

  “My body hurts, but it doesn’t,” answers Luke as he faces the priest. Luke has dirt on his forehead and cheeks as well as dried blood under his nose. It takes a few seconds for Aedyn to notice that his broken nose has been recently set.

  “Your grandfather told me that forest tracker training is comparable to torture,” Aedyn says, carefully eyeing Luke. “The way you look, I can see he was sugar-coating it.”

  Luke rolls onto his back, groaning in pain. “I can’t deny that it was hard and had so many levels of pain that I considered giving up a few times. Still, the training is necessary for me to get stronger. With these abilities, I can repay the debts that I owe all of you for resurrecting me.”

  “You do not owe us anything,” Aedyn states nonchalantly.

  Luke chuckles, feeling his stomach twist from the effort. “It isn’t wise to argue with you.”

  “Then, why do you always start a debate with me?” Aedyn asks in mock exasperation.

  “I just want to be able to protect all of you. I need to master my gifts to do that,” the forest tracker declares. “Especially when Nyx and I continue traveling.”

  Aedyn gives Luke a curious look. “I noticed that you left me and Sari out of your plans.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with Sari. Being a gypsy, I can’t be sure where she’ll go after Nyx and I leave Haven,” Luke explains with a shrug. “As for you, I’m continuing my firm stance that you should go back to Gods’ Voice. You have a brighter future there than you would have on the road with me. Don’t try to deny it since I lack the energy to put my foot down with any amount of force.”

  Aedyn sits up, crossing his legs. “I’m going back to Gods’ Voice.”

 

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