“Very well, you who walk alone. Come and be welcome in our home, so long as you do as you have done today, for all time. You are quick and you are clever and for that you have my thanks. Come and go as you please, sleep by the warm fire, and tend the child gently when he cries,” Woman said. Sabretooth eagerly agreed, for the warm fire was pleasing indeed.
“And even to this day, do the Plainsfolk keep the little sabreteeth among the yerts, for they do keep the children entertained and they will band together to drive away their cousins, the longteeth, should the great Plains hunters come calling at the herds or the camp. Yet still, the sabreteeth walk alone, coming and going as they please and calling no man 'Master'.”
The children laughed and clapped at her story and she laughed with them, wondering what Aleister would have thought of her choice of story.
For the next half hour Kalla regaled the children with several more stories from all over the world of De Sikkari. By this time, more children, Pip included, and several adults had gathered around her, entranced. Even Aleister and the gamblers had wandered over.
“Hmm… we have, I think, time for just one more story before little heads should be laid to sleep. Big ones too, for that matter.” A yawn accompanied the last.
“This last story is a personal favorite of mine. It begins long ago, in the province of Tishal, here on Argoth. It just so happened that in Tishal there lived a merchant who had made a vast fortune in trade. This merchant's name was Soren. It was autumn and Soren's wife left the skycity for the Plainsland, to visit family. Soren was very lonely. Days passed and the merchant grew ever more lonely. One beautiful autumn evening, while out on a stroll, he came upon a most lovely young maiden. Soren could no longer contain himself and he grabbed the young woman.
“Who are you?” Soren asked. The maiden smiled at him.
“I am nobody, milord.”
“Well, then, Nobody, come away with me to my place,” Soren said. At this the maiden tried to pull away, but Soren kept a firm grip on her.
“Oh, no, milord. I couldn't do that.”
“Then where do you live, most beautiful one? I will go home with you!” he replied.
“Just over here, milord.” She set off with Soren right beside her, keeping a good grip on her arm. It was not long before they arrived at a most wondrous house. What a surprise to find such a place nearby! Male and female servants clustered around to greet the young girl and it was only then that Soren realized that she was the daughter of the house.
Much to Soren's delight, the two slept together that night. In the morning a man whom Soren understood to be the girl's father came in.
“You were meant to come here,” the master of the house said, “and now you must stay!” The girl was ever so nice and Soren was so smitten with her that he soon forgot his wife. As for his house and children, he never gave them the first thought. He and the girl pledged eternal love to one another.
Meanwhile, Soren's family waited for him to return. At first they just assumed that he was out catting around, like usual, but when days passed and he never returned, they began to fear the worst. They searched and searched, but no trace of him could they find. During this time Soren became comfortably installed in his new home and before long his new wife was pregnant. After she had an easy delivery of a healthy baby boy, the two grew even closer. Time flew by and Soren had not a care in the world.
Back at his old home, his affluent brothers grew more and more worried. Search though they had, they had found no trace of Soren. They assumed he was dead, though they had not recovered a body. The brothers carved a statue of the god Carron Death-bringer, just the height of Soren. When the statue was completed they prostrated themselves before it, praying that they would find Soren's body.
Suddenly a man with a large stick arrived at Soren's new house. While the whole household fled in terror, the man poked Soren in the back with the stick and used it to force him through a tight passageway to the outside. This was the thirteenth day since Soren's disappearance. The family was outside before the statue, shaking their heads over what had happened. Imagine their surprise when a small, monkey-like creature crawled out from under a storage shed nearby! Through the jabber of astounded voices, one managed to break through.
“It's me!” Soren said. “Don't you recognize me?” Though they didn't recognize the man, they recognized the voice. His brothers drew him up onto the veranda and into the house. Soren explained how desperate he had been for female companionship, what with his wife gone away and all and how he had married the gentleman's daughter. He went on and on about his new family, bubbling with pride over his little son.
“But where is he?” the eldest brother asked. Soren pointed to the storage shed.
“Why, right over there!”
Soren's brothers exchanged looks. This was strange news. Soren looked terribly thin and sick. He still wore the clothes he had disappeared in, though now they were all dirty and disheveled. The brothers sent servants to check under the storehouse, where they found a passel of foxes. Their brother had been tricked by a kitsune, a fox spirit. He had married the fox spirit and was no longer in his right mind.
A Technomancer trained as an esper architect was sent for to try and purify his mind. It took the esper architect many a long day to break the spell over Soren, but the merchant finally returned to himself and was sorely embarrassed over the whole incident. The thirteen days he had spent under the storehouse had passed as thirteen years to Soren and the few inches between shed and ground had seemed a grand and stately mansion. Such is the power and the mischievousness of the fox-spirits. So remember, never get too greedy or be unfaithful, lest the foxes come to teach you a lesson!”
This last story elicited quite a bit of laughter and applause from the adults in the crowd. Belief in the fox-spirits and their pranks were quite prevalent among the Argosians. Kalla bowed to her audience and the crowd began to dissipate. She yawned as Aleister came up.
“Looks like we could both use some rest!” she said. He nodded agreement, trying, and failing, to stifle a yawn.
“Indeed. After you, milady,” Aleister replied.
Master Wylsin was waiting for them by the stairs.
“Your rooms are on the upper level, last on the right. I hope you find everything satisfactory.”
“If the beds are soft, I'll be happy.” Aleister yawned again. Kalla gave the innkeeper a nod.
“I'm sure all will be fine. Dinner was wonderful, Master Wylsin.” Kalla pulled another coin from thin air.
“I know the Empire will foot our bill, Master Innkeep, but I prefer to pay my own way. Save it for a special occasion,” the mage said. Wylsin nodded as he pocketed the coin.
“You are too kind, Lady Mage, too kind. You are a credit to the Kanlon.” His voice dropped, muttering darkly. “Unlike our last magi guest.”
Kalla had started up the stairs, but she turned back.
“What was that? When was another mage here? What did they do to you?” she asked. Wylsin flashed her a sour look, at odds with his cheerful disposition.
“No offense, Lady Mage. It was two weeks ago. Another of the House Solidor came through. An arrogant male, tall, quite slender, with flaming red hair and icy blue eyes. One of the Wolf-folk I believe, though I've never seen one with red hair before. He scared the young ones so bad, I'm surprised they even approached you. Said it wasn't his place to provide 'common entertainment'. Said a great deal more too.
“But his magister, that man was enough to put fear in the Death-bringer Himself. Very cold, aloof. A towering giant of a man, with spiked plate armor, all in black. Never took it off. Insisted on standing guard all night outside the mage's door, he did. As if I would allow harm to come to any under my roof!”
With those descriptions the mage and magister could be none other than Vander kyl'Solidor and Shingar, two she knew well and avoided when possible. Vander had expressed an interest in her long ago and had not been pleased when she turned him down. The fiery-t
ressed mage had been cold and distant towards her after that. She shuddered. Even if she had been interested in Vander, knowing that Shingar would feel any passion shared gave her the shivers, though at the time Vander hadn't yet taken a magister. She wondered if it would have made a difference. Shingar was one reason she had never had any desire to take a magister. The man had been a rapist and a killer before Vander had chosen him. She made a face, shuddering again at the thought.
“I am sorry, Master Wylsin. I hope the encounter hasn't tainted the people too badly. Most magi are not nearly so… brusque. I can assure you, I feel quite safe here! My magister will stay nice and snug in his own room, won't you, Aleister?” Kalla said.
“Indeed I will, milady,” Aleister replied with a grin. Wylsin returned it.
“Sleep well, Lady Mage, Magister,” the innkeeper replied. Aleister nodded to the innkeep and started up the stairs, Kalla following behind. Her thoughts turned from Vander and Shingar to yet another complication she had often dwelt on. Mage and magister were tuned to one another's feelings. The bond was primarily empathic at the moment, though eventually they would be able to share coherent thoughts as well. Useful, but it meant that all emotions were shared.
She blushed without meaning to. That wasn't something she really need worry about. Most who had approached her with a romantic interest had been people seeking to get at her power, something she wasn't falling for.
It was a disturbing thought anyway, that a magister felt such from a mage. She found the reverse equally disturbing, but she could buff her shields enough to keep out such an unwanted intrusion should Aleister choose to find entertainment somewhere along the way.
Lost in thought, Kalla was unaware that said magister had stopped walking. She ran smack into the back of him.
“Oof,” the mage grunted as she hit him. Aleistet whirled around, catching an arm to steady her. Kalla jerked away as if he'd burnt her, causing him to frown.
“Are you okay, milady?”
“Yes, I'm fine. Just tired. Guess I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.”
Concern creased the magister's face and Kalla felt a tentative probe to her own mind. Alarmed at how swiftly Aleister was learning, she slammed her shields shut with enough force to cause him to wince, but not before she again caught the odd undercurrent in his emotions.
“Very well. Your room is here, looks like.” Aleister held the door open for her. “Sure you don't want me to stand guard all night?” he asked, favoring her with another mischievous grin.
Kalla thought that was another reason he had the name 'Sky Fox', for fox he did look like when he grinned like that. She scowled.
“No, I want you to get some sleep so you aren't grumpy in the morning.”
“I am not grumpy!” Aleister returned her scowl with one of his own.
“Yes, you are. And I'm going to get grumpy if I don't get to sleep.
Good night, Aleister.”
“Good night.” The Fox disappeared into his room and Kalla closed the door to her own. She slipped out of her robes and changed the baggy pants and tunic underneath for some more comfortable for sleeping. The clothes provided by the Imperials were an almost perfect fit. She wondered briefly if Aleister had fared so well. If not, she could alter them tomorrow.
The next several days passed much the same. Traveling filled the mage's days and storytelling her evenings. At every town, she heard news of Vander and Shingar and what she heard was not good. The Solidoran Mage had declined to help many who needed it. She knew that healing wasn't his strongest skill, but they were good enough to have helped at least a few of these people. Visits by magi were not that common, after all.
Kalla helped any who came seeking, spending quite a bit of time and energy in healing. She couldn't begrudge the people that. To her, helping and healing was the point and purpose of what being magi was all about. She found it a bit troublesome that Vander had refused help and resolved to bring the matter to the Sin' of Cryshal. It was a breach of Cryshal's unspoken contract with the people of Sikkari, if aid was refused for no good reason. One errant mage could cause a great deal of trouble for the Kanlon.
As they drew closer to the Deep Forest, the towns grew further and further apart, eventually disappearing for good. At the last town, Kalla stocked up on extra supplies for both the humans and the vykr. There was no telling how long they might have to wander the Forest before finding Gasta. If the Keeper did not want to be found, he would not be found and though she could weave edible food from nothingness, that took power she could little spare in the Forest.
Deep Forest, Argoth, Year of the Golden Hart, 2013 CE
On the eleventh day, they reached the Forest itself. Aleister's
trepidation grew as they approached the massive forest with its monolithic trees. All week, as the forestlands grew thick about them, the magister had grown more and more uneasy. Though he had lost a fear of the sky, the Arkaddian still had a healthy fear of being hemmed in by trees.
Mage and magister stopped the vykr at the Forest entrance. Kalla took a deep breath, inhaling the rich smells of green, growing things. Scents of jasmine and thistlehart drifted on the air. She drew in another breath and let it out in a long, ululating sound that rang through the trees. Aleister jumped, cursed his reaction.
“What in blazes was that for?”
“To let the guardians know we are here.” Before she could say more, a call echoed back at them, first from one point, then another, then another.
“There. Now we have permission to enter. Stay to the path. This is important. You must keep to the path or you will become hopelessly lost. There are beings in the Forest that would take great delight in luring a human to their deaths in the trees. No matter what you think you see or hear, do not leave the path,” Kalla said.
Aleister gave her a shaky nod.
“If it's so dangerous, should we be going in?” the magister asked.
“The Forest can be dangerous, kas, but only if you do not show it proper respect. However, this is where Gasta lives and if any can give us a good starting place, it will be the Keeper of the Forest.” Kalla nudged her mount to a walk and started down the path, the Forest swallowing her like some great hungry beast. With some hesitation, Aleister followed.
The farther in they went, the darker it became, until the light vanished altogether. Kalla conjured magelight to light the way, the orbs glowing like tiny suns in the darkness. She could feel her magister getting more and more antsy, so she decided to halt for the night.
“Here's a good place to stop. We'll make camp and get some rest,” she said.
“How can you tell it's night-time?” Aleister's voice sounded grateful.
“It is. Trust me.” As he would figure out soon enough, day and night counted for nothing in the Forest. From here on out they would have to use magelight to show the way. Kalla fixed the orbs in place.
Aleister took the vykr over to a tree and tethered them, leaving the leads long. Kalla walked the area, pacing out a circle, letting Aleister's soft voice relax her even as it soothed the beasts. He unsaddled them, brushed their long, shaggy fur, checked their hooves and fed them, while Kalla walked the circle twice more, each time weaving a stronger shield.
By the time she was finished, her warding was strong enough to keep out all but Gasta himself, but it served another purpose as well. It kept them inside. Though Kalla knew she was strong enough to withstand the temptations beyond the path, she was not so sure about Aleister, especially in his current fretful state. Despite her reassurances, the gloomy forest still unsettled the Arkaddian.
Their tasks complete, they made camp- building a fire, collecting wood, putting dinner together, cleaning up- all in relative silence. Kalla wondered how long it would be before Aleister would go crazy in the quiet. Quiet didn't bother her. She enjoyed the Forest, having spent quite a bit of time in it when she was younger. Her father had brought her here as often as he could to teach her respect for the unknown, and to instill in
her a certain degree of fearlessness. The pair were drowsing around the fire after dinner, when Aleister finally lost the battle. Kalla chuckled to herself, as his voice broke the silence.
“Milady, can I ask a question?”
“You can ask. I might not answer,” she said.
“Fair enough. Lady, why did you choose me? Out of all the others? Surely there were better choices, yes?” Aleister asked.
“I've already told you, I wasn't looking for brute strength. Nor was I looking for someone who had truly been worthy of a death sentence.” She shrugged. “Choosing you felt right. I knew you weren't a killer, by your own admission and by the truth-read. Help any?”
Aleister nodded slowly and Kalla again caught the strange undercurrent to his thoughts, tinged, oddly enough, with a bit of shame and fear. This time she felt him actively suppress it before she could focus on it. He was silent for a moment more.
“Another thing I've been meaning to ask- the coins you've given the stableboys and innkeepers, you made them from nothing. How?”
Kalla laughed softly.
“No, that was merely illusion, not magick. I am skilled enough to weave something from 'nothing', but the coins came from my own purse.”
“But how is it possible to make something from nothing?” Aleister asked.
“I'm not sure I can explain it to one not a mage, but I'll try. There are tiny particles all around us. Everything, even the air itself, is made from these unseen particles. I'm not really pulling something from nothing, but reweaving the pattern of the particles. Not all magi are skilled in Alchemy, but it happens to be something I excel at,” Kalla said.
Aleister shook his head. “I'm not sure I understand. If it can't be seen, how can you manipulate it?”
Mother of Wolves (Evalyce Worldshaper Book 1) Page 5