“You are man enough for the both of us,” Aedyn claims, half-heartedly joking. “I would rather indulge my feelings of helplessness for a little while longer.”
He catches the next acorn that Nyx throws at him, but the sudden movement causes him to slip and fall on his side. Aedyn begins to slide toward the edge of the rooftop while Nyx awkwardly scrambles to grab him. Her hand is almost in reach of his robe when he abruptly stops, his head dangling off the roof. A low grunt can be heard over the edge of the roof as Aedyn is pushed toward Nyx. She is still steadying the priest when a hand blindly grasps at the roof, hoping to find something to grab. It finally stops on the top of the ladder as if it is settling for the easy choice.
“Stop goofing off and get up here,” Nyx demands, her voice betraying her amusement.
“It feels like cheating if I use the ladder,” Luke claims, flipping onto the roof.
“Great. Now, I have to deal with both of you trying to cheer me up. At least, the gypsy is not here to harass me,” Aedyn complains, pushing himself to the ladder. He sits himself at the edge of the roof where he can pretend to dangle his legs. “Do you two have anything better to do than forcing me to accept my handicap?”
“Not really,” Nyx admits with a shrug.
“I just saw you guys up here and didn’t want to be left out,” Luke innocently replies.
“Oh,” Aedyn blurts out, taken aback by their responses.
“I already talked to you about this, so there isn’t any point in talking to you again,” Luke casually claims with a lazy yawn. “As time goes on, you’ll learn to accept your handicap and get on with your life.”
Nyx stares at the forest tracker and shakes her head. “You don’t have any idea what to say about this, huh?”
“No clue whatsoever,” Luke answers with a goofy grin. “Aedyn is more stubborn than I was when I had to leave Kira behind, but he’ll fix himself in due time. The more we annoy him, the more he’ll dwell on the problem.”
“I appreciate that you are confident in me,” Aedyn mutters.
“Besides, it isn’t like he casts spells with his feet,” the forest tracker states.
“The hell is that supposed to mean!” Aedyn angrily shouts.
“Simple. All that has happened is that you have lost your easiest mode of movement,” Luke points out, his voice carefree and calm. “In the end, you only have to figure out how to move around and your life will be back to normal. Do you agree, Nyx?”
“Stop simplifying a difficult problem,” Nyx answers in exasperation. She stretches her legs until she hears her knees pop. “It’s more than him losing mobility. It’s an entire change of perspective and lifestyle for him.”
“Can the two of you stop talking about my problem?” Aedyn sorrowfully requests. “I asked to be brought up here to see the stars, which are gone. You might as well help me get down since the sky does not look very friendly.”
Luke moves over to Aedyn, crouching to allow the priest to pull himself onto his friend's back. Nyx is about to go down the ladder to hold it steady for the others, but she stops when she sees Luke walk to the far corner of the roof. He turns toward her before breaking into a run. Aedyn screams in fright as Luke crosses the roof and leaps off the edge. Luke effortlessly lands on a tree branch instead of falling to the ground below. A look of childish pride is on his face until a loud crack fills the air and the branch snaps. It’s a twenty-foot drop to the ground, but their descent is slowed down by several solid branches that smack into Luke’s body. Nyx is already halfway to the tree when the two half-elves crash to the ground, Luke landing face first in the grass. Aedyn mutters and curses as he rolls off Luke’s back.
“That didn’t go as planned,” Luke says, spitting out blades of grass.
“Have you ever had anything go as planned?” Aedyn asks. He wipes his sleeves clean before gently punching Luke in the arm.
Luke scratches his head in thought. “I’m sure there’s something, but I can’t think of it now.”
“Give me your hand, Aedyn,” Nyx bluntly orders the priest. “I’ll take your right side and monkey boy can take your left.”
They are busy getting Aedyn steadied between them when two figures approach around the house. Isaiah and Sari stop short when they see Aedyn being helped towards the house.
“Do you want some help?” Isaiah asks.
Aedyn quickly cuts off Nyx and Luke. “We will be fine. You do not have to waste your magic on me.”
“Come now, Lord Karwyn. You are a hero among our peers. I would be most honored if you would allow me to teleport you to bed,” Isaiah flatters the priest, making a low bow that touches his scaly snout against the grass.
“I wish to be there when you talk with them,” Aedyn requests, realizing what is about to happen.
“I am sorry, Aedyn. You have decided to follow another path, so you are no longer privy to our organization’s actions,” Isaiah coldly explains. He puts a clawed hand on Aedyn’s chest. “It is for your own good. The less you know about what is about to transpire, the less likely our enemies will seek you out for information. This ignorance may very well save your life and allow you to spend that life on what you truly desire. After all, you are not an agent of combat or intelligence. You were merely meant to locate the potential champion and keep him safe until he left the academy. After our meeting in Freedom, I decided to investigate how you received permission to continue traveling with Luke.”
Isaiah pauses to lean in, his teeth inches from Aedyn’s face. “You brought the followers of Durag into our business. Asking your temple superiors for an emergency mission to escort Kellia Solomon because she was being hunted by a Lich put the organization in a difficult position. The followers of Durag would have learned of our existence if you were stopped. So, you left my allies no choice, but to let you travel with Luke. You went over my head and behind my back, Lord Karwyn.”
Aedyn grins defiantly. “Did I disappoint you?”
“No. You will forever be known as one of our greatest agents,” the fireskin proudly replies. A glimmer of fire trickles down the caster’s cheek, dripping onto the grass where it makes a brief hissing noise. “I speak for all of us when I say that we are honored to have had you in our ranks. It is a shame that you must leave us for other pursuits.”
“So, I am being removed,” Aedyn states dryly.
“It is better to say that you have earned an early retirement and the chance to have a good life,” Isaiah contends with a smile.
“Am I no longer allowed to have contact with my friends?” the priest softly asks.
“So full of questions tonight,” Isaiah says, obviously unhappy with the situation. He takes a deep breath before becoming the bearer of bad news. “You will no longer be given your usual level of information. At best, we can tell you how your friends are doing. Although, I would assume that the bards of Ralian will be singing of their victories and tragedies. Also, we can’t stop you from interacting with them when they are in your area. We won’t stop you from using your personal contacts and resources to keep yourself informed, but we do maintain the right to block certain lines of questioning. It is the standard treatment for agents who have left the organization.”
“I understand,” Aedyn states with a small nod.
“At least one of us does,” Nyx mutters.
“Get some rest, Lord Karwyn,” Isaiah suggests, waving his staff. The priest glimmers for a second before disappearing in a blink of light. Isaiah turns to Nyx, Luke, and Sari with a grin that is wide enough to show all of his teeth.
“What happens now?” Sari asks curiously.
“Now, we have some drink and some truth,” he answers.
*****
Isaiah opens the door to his room at Goldheart Manor for Nyx and Sari who cautiously enter the well-furnished room. The caster lets the door start to close as Luke slips into the room. Nyx is looking at a silver statue of Inyo, the god of innocence, when she feels a gentle tug on her shirt. She turns to find Sari s
taring at a unicorn-shaped ceramic basin filled with steaming water. There is a faint smell of roses mixed with the aroma of expensive food blowing in from the open door to the balcony. Luke peers outside where he sees the moonlit outline of a large, circular table and four chairs.
“How fresh is the food and drink?” Luke asks curiously.
“I left instructions for the chefs to start cooking once I contacted them. That was about an hour ago,” Isaiah answers, walking toward the feast. “The food was delivered a few minutes before our arrival.”
Nyx runs ahead of everyone to take a seat. “Let’s stop asking questions about it and eat. I’m starving.”
“Well, I already ate at the bar. I could always use more drink though,” Sari says, taking the chair across from Nyx. The gypsy immediately grabs one of the ten wine bottles and fills her bronze goblet to the brim.
“I don’t feel comfortable here. Alyssa might show up without warning,” Luke mentions to no one in particular. He feels a hand of solid air clap him on the back, which sends him stumbling onto the balcony. Luke nervously takes the seat next to Sari who quickly hands him a goblet of wine.
“You can relax, young man. I was invited to stay here since the inn is too . . . mundane for a person like me,” the fireskin says, taking the seat nearest to the balcony railing. “Lady Goldheart has been told that this room is off-limits until my departure at dawn. Though, she agreed only after I promised to give her some gnome stars for the up-coming celebration. Now, eat up and we will talk.”
Nyx has already filled her plate with two roasted turkey legs, three plump tomatoes, and two slices of beef. Her brow furrows as she tries to fit a spoonful of peeled, boiled potatoes on the plate. One of them rolls onto the table where she deftly spears it with her fork and pops it into her mouth. Luke and Sari watch her continue to devour food while they finish off two bottles of wine. The two of them giggle at Nyx when she savagely tears the meat off one of the turkey legs. Isaiah barely touches any of the food and drink while he observes the young adventurers. He fights back a smile when Nyx, with turkey sticking out of her mouth, glares at her friends for laughing. A honey-covered apple sails through the air and hits Sari in head where it sticks to her sapphire hair.
“That isn’t funny!” Sari shrieks, frantically pulling at the apple.
“Don’t pull at it or you’ll lose some hair,” Luke warns the panicking girl. He tries to grab her wrists, but is constantly slapped away.
“Here,” Nyx says with a mouth full of beef. She hands Luke a pitcher, which he quickly dumps over Sari’s head.
“That wasn’t water,” the gypsy coughs, a disgusted look on her face.
Luke gently pulls the wet apple from her hair. “What was it?”
“It smells like swamp ale,” Nyx answers, wrinkling her nose.
“It tastes like sour water,” Sari whines. She snatches a full bottle of wine and gulps it down.
“If the three of you are settled, I would like to talk about the future,” Isaiah sternly interrupts.
“That’s a very diffi . . . deep topic,” Sari happily slurs. “There isn’t any way to tell what the future will hold unless you’re . . . big destiny god guy.”
“I think what she means to say is that it’s odd for you to gather us here to talk about something as vague as the future,” Nyx explains, watching for Sari’s nod of agreement. “We can only plan so far ahead before our plans become nothing more than dreams. Even a plan as simple as breakfast can be changed if you wake up to find one of your ingredients is missing. Honestly, the future is rarely what you expect once it becomes the present. That’s my belief, anyway.” She suddenly lets out a dainty burp followed by a loud belch.
“Very lady-like,” Sari teases the caster. She catches the incoming tomato with her fork and takes a small bite.
“You should get to the point, Isaiah,” Luke impatiently requests. “I’m guessing this has to do with the mysterious organization that you and Aedyn were talking about.”
“We are destined to stand against an enemy who is about to unleash its evil on Windemere,” Sari dramatically says while waving her wine glass in the air. “This is going to be an ancient evil that will stop at nothing to destroy us before we become strong enough to be a real threat. Oh, and there are various minions that will be sent to stop us like Trinity and the Lich.”
“You know your bard tales. How do those usually end?” Isaiah asks with a smug grin.
Sari scrambles to stand on top of her chair and strikes a heroic pose. “Typically, the heroes are victorious and go on to lead happy lives. It’s the way all stories should end to make the listener believe that good will always triumph over evil. The point of such a story is to make little children strive to be good and grow up to be heroes.”
“Those aren’t the real stories,” Nyx grumbles over the brim of her goblet.
“Is that so?” the gypsy slurs, dropping back into her chair. “You seem to know something that the rest of us don’t.”
“Those stories are nothing more than bedtime tales created by bards who decided to retire from the road. I won’t deny that there is some truth to them, but they don’t tell the real story. If you listen to some of the older tavern songs about bands of heroes facing ancient evils then you will find a different tale,” Nyx argues, pointing a bare turkey bone at everyone. “First of all, it is never an easy win like the children stories speak of. The heroes sacrifice a lot to reach the final battle. They lose family, homes, and friends while continuing on because it is their destiny. Second of all, the great battle always ends one of two ways. The heroes either die with the villain or sacrifice their lives to seal the villain away. Children get the fake ending because the truth would make them feel like life is a battle that one cannot win without horrible suffering.”
“What stories were you told as a child?” Luke asks. He takes a deep drink from his wine glass, but his wide eyes are locked on Nyx’s cold expression.
Nyx laughs sarcastically and throws the turkey bone on her plate. “I received both versions with a lesson drilled into me that I am destined to join those stories. After all, I was born to face the coming darkness and defend Windemere. That is why Isaiah saved me from my burning village and deposited me at Rainbow Tower. Even as a child, my path was clear to individuals who, I’m certain, are members of this mysterious organization. Isn’t that right, Isaiah? I’m nothing more than a weapon, right?”
“Why are you getting angry, Nyxie?” Sari inquires, flashing a playful smile in hopes of calming her friend down. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
“I’m angry because I’m tired of all this!” Nyx snaps in frustration. She growls before launching a fireball into the sky where it explodes in a dazzling array of red and blue. “I wander Windemere without the truth about why I exist. This man knows the answers and he seems more content to discuss mindless bard tales.”
“Those stories have more to do with your path than you think,” Isaiah quietly whispers.
“How so?” ask Sari and Nyx at once.
Isaiah leans back in his chair, eyeing all three adventurers. “Many of those tales stem from the same story. A band of heroes chosen to be the champions of Windemere are gathered to defeat an ancient evil, which even the gods have reason to fear. Sadly, the bard tales are closer to the truth than the bedtime stories. Yet, they are not entirely true because the champions have never faced the ancient evil. I assume it is better to have them reach the end than to die in failure. Personally, I would rather hear the truth than the glorified stories. The false stories create nothing more than sword and magic wielding fools. I can’t even tell you how many fake champions have died trying to inject themselves into this path.”
The nervous silence stretches for minutes before Luke asks, “How many groups have failed?”
“This has been going on since before the Great Cataclysm,” Isaiah answers, picking up a sweet potato to nibble on. “I would say around two hundred with some getting further than others. Then again,
there are champions who were killed before we ever found them. Those are the ones that really make us doubt our usefulness.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Sari meekly admits.
“So, you’re saying that we are nothing more than the next group of fools destined to be destroyed by this creature’s minions,” Nyx drones, flickers of fire running through her black hair.
“We have very high hopes for you,” Isaiah proudly declares.
“How about you explain everything to us?” Luke demands before popping a few almonds into his mouth. “I want to know who you are, what your organization is, and why we are so important.”
“I am the field leader of an ancient organization known as the Eyes of Gabriel. Our job is to locate, protect, and mentor the champions of Windemere of their destiny before our enemies get to them first,” the great caster replies with a clawed hand stroking his chin. “Unfortunately, we are not always successful. For example, the attacks on Nyx and Sari were committed before we confirmed that they were champions.”
“Not very effective if you can’t find us that easily,” Nyx mentions, her voice filled with bitterness.
“She’s right, scaly!” Sari exclaims, letting a mouthful of wine flow down her chin. “Our families would still be alive if you were better at your job.”
“It is not so easy. There are several candidates for this destiny and our tools have been designed to only show those who have stepped onto the path. Otherwise, we would be chasing false champions and wasting resources,” Isaiah says, his voice disheartened from remembering his failures. “We are not as large an organization as you might think and our resources are limited to what we can earn through menial jobs and bounties. In order to remain a secret, we must limit our exposure, which makes it hard to earn money.” He rummages in his robes and pulls out a small pouch. He shakes out three gold pieces, holding out his hands in a gesture saying they are all he has.
“That’s a shame. Please continue,” Nyx coldly snaps.
Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies Page 47