by Nikolas Rex
Laura wondered if it was the end of the vision.
Soon however, little pinpricks of almost yellow light began to appear throughout the streets below. The tiny lights shifted and moved in waves, blinking in and out with no apparent pattern. The vision moved then, turning her around again to face inward.
It was then that she saw what the lights were. Black shadowy things began to emerge from their holes of hiding, their eyes were soulless patches of sickly greenish yellow light. Laura was horrified as she realized that the things had been present the whole time as she went through the city in the vision but were only now appearing in a dark city. The largest of all the shadowy beings in the room pulled itself onto its throne, sitting before its prized possession. Laura had the feeling that any attempt to take the crystal in that moment would be met with a swift and unmerciful death on the part of the taker.
But she felt a powerful feeling that the crystal needed to be taken. She knew she was feeling what the creature was feeling as it was trying to communicate to her of the importance of the crystal. The precious stone did not belong in this place anymore. Laura felt that the crystal and the shadows that emerged in the dark were connected in a powerful way. More and more of the things began to appear, closer to her in the vision than she would have liked them to be, their glowing sunken eyes bobbing like sputtering candles floating lost at sea. Blackened hands warped with time and exposure to dark magic, reached out with deadly claws. The lights doubled and tripled in number, then swelled forward, threatening to overtake her and her heart leapt in fear.
Doyenne Carlata’s scream echoed in her mind.
Sweat poured down her forehead.
Laura let out a cry of fear.
Suddenly she felt herself pulling backwards swiftly as she was sucked back out of the vision into her natural state.
She fell backward onto her back, breathing heavily.
She looked up, the large comforting creature just in her line of sight.
The creature lifted its head and gestured down towards the ruins again.
Laura nodded silently, “I saw it,” she said, “I saw the crystal.”
The creature seemed to smile, and then lowered its head again.
Laura shook her head ‘no’, she did not want to be surrounded by the darkness, and those things again.
But the creature shook its head in response, reassuring her. Then lowered its head again.
Laura lifted her hand and touched the creature once more.
This time, as the light enveloped her and then faded, her mind was filled with images of Marcus.
Marcus.
She felt a powerful desire to see him, and was unsure if it was just herself, or an emotion that came with the vision. She decided it must have been a bit of both. She felt that when she saw Marc again she needed to tell him of the crystal here, it was important. A vision of the creature marking the path came to her mind again. She had been shown the way. She needed to find Marc, and lead him to this crystal.
This time she was pulled back more slowly out of the vision.
She returned to herself, still sitting by the creature.
The creature pulled away from her then and motioned to the edge of the cliff.
Laura looked at the creature.
“I am to go now, then?” She asked.
The creature nodded.
“But I do not know where Marcus is,” she said truthfully, “I do not know if I can yet work my magic in that way,” She finished.
It nodded its head again, and then turned.
With a pulse of magic it began to run towards the edge of the cliff.
“No, wait!” Laura cried out, apprehension seizing her.
The creature leapt from the cliff, and suddenly disappeared.
“No!” Laura said again, “Do not depart from me,” she spoke her desires aloud.
And just like that she was alone again.
A cold breeze from the falls blew over her and she shivered.
She wanted to see Marc again, that was certain. But she did not know where he was and she thought it was an important part of her magic to know a thing, know a place, before going to it.
Can I do it again after so much has happened? She asked herself silently, Of course I can! She reassured herself.
She wanted to walk to the edge and look down but she knew it would only discourage her from what she was about to do.
She closed her eyes. She had to do what she did before, envision landing where she wanted to be. Then she opened her eyes again.
She nodded, readying herself.
She took no more thought, knowing her mind would spiral into a pattern of ‘what if-s’ that would only work to dissuade her.
Laura put one foot back and leaned forward. With a burst of energy she sprinted madly for the edge of the cliff.
Ten steps to the edge.
Five steps.
Two.
On the last step, the moment she was waiting for to hurl herself up in a mighty jump to help propel her forward and hopefully to activate her magic, the rocks beneath her final footfall broke free from under her and threw her off balance. Instead of the jump she was hoping for she plummeted downward, rocks falling around her. She hit her head as she came down. Stars exploded across her vision. She lost all sense of her surroundings. A scream of surprise and of fright leapt from her throat.
Struggling against the stars exploding over her vision was a painful battle. Her stomach leapt into her throat at the nauseating sensation of free fall.
Finally her eyes cleared and she saw the shocking height of her fall and the speed at which she was plummeting towards the valley below.
She scrambled to reorient herself.
She tried to work her magic, tried to summon her will but she was falling.
Marc.
Marc.
MARC!
She thought furiously, but she was falling to her death and the fear was threatening to take over her senses.
Then, in a single swift moment the creature reappeared, leaping from out of nowhere to her side.
The moment it appeared the world around Laura slowed in an impossible way. She saw the rocks that had broken from under her and were falling next to her, slow down. She felt herself slow as well, as if moving in water. And yet she could think and was experiencing everything around her normally.
She watched as the creature gazed upon her, a hopeful look in its eyes. It bounded in the air, jumping upon nothing, but appearing graceful doing so nonetheless, once, and then twice, and then was gone.
The magic remained and she continued to fall slowly, as if in a dream.
It was then that she suddenly felt something powerful erupt into her mind. It came as if very far away, but it was there, strong enough for her to sense it. She reached out for it mentally, feeling for it with all her strength. She sensed a familiar power.
It was Marcus.
Stop doubting yourself, she thought, You have the ability to do this, you can do it!
The Exalted had spared her, had used its magic to stop her fall, to give her a chance to utilize her own and she was not going to waste it. Her mind turned to the vision she had shared with Marc of the Fae Ones and drew power from it. She had been granted a powerful gift and she was determined to use that gift for good. To honor those peaceful creatures who had graced her with their presence and do right for them that had been wronged.
She gripped to the presence of Marc that she sensed and pulled, yanking herself towards the presence.
Marcus, she thought, Marcus!
Just as the rocks around her began to accelerate back into motion she felt herself wink out for a moment.
She had done it.
Chapter Thirty
Luck be a Lady
Marcus,
I hope this letter finds you well. I was glad to have received word from you. When you all had to leave in such a rush I was sad I was unable to give you a proper farewell. I convinced Cydas to let you stay the rest of th
e night to see if you would wake and since I could not sleep I repaired what I could on your uniform. I hope it is holding up. I know it is hot now but Refoveo will be over soon and if this coming Abeo is like every other Season of Change that has come and gone in the past few cycles, then the weather will quickly turn cold. Do not worry about me, Topar is more than enough rovaar to keep me and the old shop safe, and besides, Soren returned with quite a tale about his trip in Belwick. You can talk to him when you get back here. When this all passes over, remember, there will always be a place for you here. I want you to know, also, that I know more than I let on, about your quest, about everything. Garrond played a part when he was here and I am happy to have helped too. Know that I will always be here to help. Stay safe.
Exalted keep you,
Eleanor, Jidan of Snowfield
Marc folded and tucked the parchment into his inner vest pocket. He occasionally took the letter out and reread it, reminding himself of Eleanor’s kindness.
They had been on the road for more than a fortnight now.
The first day Marc had asked Cydas many questions. At the time, Cydas seemed to be the all-knowledgeable one. Soon it became clear that he was more of a helpful messenger, semi-sword trainer, semi-keeper with only limited answers. When he finally could not answer their questions he had told them the Oracle had imbued him only with specific visions which he could recall when occasion permitted. He explained that the Oracle had told him there was not one specific future, but many futures and many possibilities.
“She gave me access to the visions which she saw as the most probable, the stronger ones, the ones that reoccurred the most. She said that with so many powerful forces gathered together, you, Marcus, and the others, she was having a more difficult time seeing the future, so she could only give me a sort of guide to gather you all together, and then we can head to her for further help.”
Marc had finally gotten used to riding in the saddle. The first several days after waking to find he was no longer in Kolima, the skin on his thighs were rubbed raw, red and sore. But his skin had callused over where the friction was greatest, and was tougher now, able to handle it.
There were other changes he was noticing as well, since arriving here. The little fat he had on him before was gone, turned into muscle. The lack of processed and fatty foods and the overabundance of fruit, vegetables, and healthy protein in his diet now had helped with muscle development too, and though he couldn’t really tell, his body was growing and strengthening much faster than before.
The sword training every night was helping as well. Cydas seemed more laid back than Topar, probably because comparing almost anyone to a seven foot tall white furry giant would make them seem less intimidating, but he still pushed Marc and the others to train hard. Cydas spent more time training directly with Marc than instructing the other two, but occasionally he would have Marc fight Zildjin or Sesuadra and merely watch and critique. He was impressed with the swords that they owned. Sesuadra’s curved sword was of a design he had never encountered. Sesuadra said it was the only thing he had to remind him of his home. Zildjin said Eleanor had given him his sword on his first trip away from Kolima, traveling with Soren. Eleanor told him it was a magical blade that her husband Garrond had found and used on his travels, though she was unsure of the nature of its magic. The Sword of the Phoenix, was, of course, the blade that stood out the most in the group.
Marc was also getting more used to the weapon’s power. He could not make the blade’s fire come forth every time he tried, but he was successful in a majority of his attempts. He experimented with the fire, manipulating it to do different things and with different levels or degrees of size, shape, and distance. His first few efforts resulted in a number of burning trees and underbrush, forcing them to relocate campsites on those occasions, but Cydas always prompted him to continue trying, just with more caution.
They passed many people on the road of various quantities. Sometimes large caravans, other times small groups of people, or a single rider or cart. They stopped only at larger cities and towns when they needed to resupply or to rest in a nice warm bed for the night. Everywhere they went the people were abuzz with excitement of the strange bright light issuing from Kolima the many nights before. Some believed it was a sign of the endtimes, others said it was the issuing forth of another blessed age, like the Illuminated Era. Some explained it away by saying a potent relic hunter had found a powerful ancient artifact to show off at the Gathering and that it was nothing more than that. They would say things like, “The Wildlands will be tamed and the monsters and the darkness pushed back. A great purge will cleanse the land of evil.” Or “They really outdid themselves for the Gathering this cycle.” There was always at least one person in each town that was standing, propped up on a box or small stage, in front of a crowd, proclaiming and prophesying things that were, and that would be, concerning the event in Kolima.
Marc began to see firsthand what the Oracle had mentioned to him in her message and the implications of it threatened to overwhelm him. But he had Zildjin and Sesuadra there to ease his mind. He felt the comfort of their friendship and drew energy from it.
Cormill, Northbridge, Feydon, Ridensul, Fairlake, each place held many similarities to the architecture and fashion that Marc encountered in Kolima. Each town or city, however, also held elements of its surroundings. The reddish brown slate rooftops of Kolima were not present outside of Itherin’s capital. Marc had come to know that Sesuadra was the most likely to know the answer to his questions about Lyrridia, so when he asked him about the absence of the red rooftops where they were traveling Sesuadra informed him that red clay was found prevalently up and down the coast by Kolima, thus it was a feature of the city.
Marc then began to differentiate the characteristics that were derived from the descendants of Itherin, and the traits that were naturally incorporated into a village because of its surroundings. Without even realizing it, Marc was slowly but surely becoming a part of his new environment himself, and was mostly content with it. There were a few things he missed, the constant ability to quickly access a wide variety of music and listen to it, among a few others. The absence of constant music also made him realize just how much he appreciated it. Whenever they stayed at an Inn in one of the cities he would take the time to listen to the bards, balladeers, and other musicians performing. Marc noticed that those who played music were so few that it was a very widely appreciated art. Even the simplest of melodies drew the attention of most everyone.
They did not have an unlimited amount of coin, however. Eleanor had given them a large sackful of gold coins and Cydas had a fair supply, but by the time they reached Fairlake, they had run low.
“The crystal is still moving,” Marc said.
They were all sitting around a small wooden table in the common room of the Narrow Shadows Inn just at the edge of Fairlake. It was the cheapest they could find. The sun was high in the sky, marking about the middle of the day, it was slightly warm, with a bit of a chill in the breeze. After making sure their steeds and pack animal had been taken care of, they had put their general items in their rooms, locked the rooms, and headed downstairs to eat. They had been discussing logistics up till then as well.
They had ordered food and were sipping some sort of drink that reminded Marc of apple cider that had been left out a little too long. Marc had the map open, studying it. They had all spent a lot of time studying the map, fascinated by its magic. They were also surprised at Marc’s ability to manipulate the magic and make the map work so well. They did not know of Marc’s technologically advanced world and the interfaces that he grew up with, especially involving maps. The blinking light that had been positioned in Whiteholt had moved upward, away from the city. They also discovered other interesting things of the maps magic. It would not always redraw itself for a closer view of the landscape, nor did it always list the names of people on the map. They did not have it completely figured out, but they were learning more about it each
day. A barmaid was coming to their table with trays of roasted meat, vegetables, and fruit. Marc had the map return to a full view of Lyrridia and made the lights indicating the crystal shards wink out. The map appeared as normal as any other plain ink-on-parchment map.
“We need to get up to Whiteholt as quickly as possible,” Zildjin added.
“We do not have much coin left,” Cydas said.
“We can spend the rest of our coin on supplies here, hope that will be enough for us to make it through Rawson’s pass, and reach Denbel. When we get to Denbel, though, we will have to figure something else out, work for coin, or something,” Zildjin continued.
“What other option do we have?” Marc asked.
The barmaid was setting their food down before them.
“Well,” Cydas said, “There is a small outpost, town, in the middle of Rawson’s pass, I stopped there on my way to Kolima, but only briefly. I do not know much of it. Here on the map,” He pointed it out, “Terga. We could go on the supplies we have till then, and resupply in Terga and probably be good all the way till Whiteholt, avoiding wasting time in Denbel.”
“You would do well to steer clear of that place,” The barmaid said. She had long brown hair in a single braid, and tight fitting brown leather breeches and bodice with a white undershirt.
“Pardon?” Cydas asked.
“Terga,” She affirmed, “Better even to take a different pass, Belach, to the west, longer perhaps, but safer.”
“Tis true,” Cydas affirmed, “The barkeep spoke of it when I passed through, but I did not take much heed. What more could you inform us of such ill news?”
The barmaid looked rushed but could not pass up an opportunity to gossip.
“Terga was a hub of business and trade, to be sure, for any traveling up to Biarlin through Rawsons’s pass. It was a safe haven to be counted on for a warm bed and resupply. That is, up until about four or five cycles ago.”