by Rick Field
Liane swallowed. She had known, conceptually, what was involved in Druidism, what was expected of them, and the work that they did. To hear it explained to her in terms she could comprehend, she understood the mind-boggling scale on which they worked, and the theories behind it. To think one could manipulate energy on such a scale, to generate the amount of force required to merely deviate such a monumental event, it stilled her completely.
“You are talking about transmutation,” she suddenly realized. “Transforming one element into another, and modifying it.”
For a moment, it appeared as if Monolith would laugh out loud, the Druid barely containing her mirth. “Druidism does not change elements, My Lady,” she softly chided. “Druidism works on energy, not on materials. Why would a Druid need to change fire into water, or one metal into another? Such things are useless to us. We can take the heat of the fire, the strength of the metal, and use them for other applications. However, such things will take the heat out of the fire, withering it, and the strength out of the metal, breaking it. One cannot create, merely take and transform.”
Liane blinked twice, opened her mouth to reply, closed it, thought for a moment, and then tried to speak, before reconsidering once more. The very scale was enormous, the implications were profound. The Pillar refrained from trying to speak. Further conversation was unnecessary, she had so much to think about now. They walked in complete silence, the Druid with a faint little smile on her lips, as if pleased she had either silenced the inquisitive Pillar, or broken her world.
Liane suddenly twitched, spinning around with her hand coming up, a spell rolling off her lips. Rather than the burst of light that she had expected, her chest exploded in a shearing pain that brought her to her knees. Immediately, Steve and Monolith were flanking her, one looking into the trees while the other looked at her in worry.
“My Lady?” Monolith requested when the Mage finally opened her eyes and dropped her hand from where it had been pressed against her breastbone.
“I thought I felt something,” Liane muttered in answer.
The Druid accepted the reply, while Steve scowled at the surrounding forest, one hand on his weapon while the other steadied the Pillar. “Your magic is extremely weak, and it appears you shouldn't be casting at the moment,” Monolith said. “It is extremely unusual to see a Noble in pain from casting, however. Spells usually just fail. Your magic is most unusual.”
Liane forced herself to her legs. “It has always been that way,” she answered. “It used to be that, if I overworked myself, my magic would seize up and become unusable. It appears that now, in addition to being unusable, it will also give me crippling pain.” She licked her lips nervously. “I just hope it doesn't take me three days to recover, like it was in the past.”
The Druid studied the Pillar for a few moments. “It is another hour to walk to where I will leave you. Shall we rest or push on?”
Liane wanted to rest. She needed to rest. Unfortunately, she couldn't spare the time. She had to return to the Capital, she had to figure out what was happening, and see what she could do to help. If she couldn't reach the Capital, it was likely they didn't know about the loss of the Eunan safe house, about the deaths of three Pillars, or about the sustained attacks that had been launched against her.
“We need to press on,” she decided. “I must return to the Capital.”
Steve looked rebellious, but held his tongue as they started to walk.
“My Lady, I must caution you,” Monolith said after a good five minutes. “You are extremely weak and your magic is injured. You must take ample rest.”
Anger bubbled up in Liane's subconscious, and it was with a great deal of effort that she beat it down. “I cannot rest. Fellow Pillars have died, and we have been under attack from rebellious Nobles. The Capital is sealed from magical communication, and I can only hope that I will find it in good condition upon my return. Perhaps they were notified of the loss of the Eunan safe house by fast courier, but more than likely the couriers were intercepted by the same Nobles that intercepted me.”
“I understand, My Lady,” Monolith finally answered. “Unfortunately, I am merely cautioning you that your physical and magical condition may not support your desires.”
“It is not the first time that I have been seriously injured, My Lady,” Liane said, testily, annoyed at the Druid for daring to suggest she was weak.
The other woman just nodded, and kept her peace. She'd done what she could, and advised where she was able. The trio walked in silence for close to twenty minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, when Liane spun and glared back at the direction from which they came.
Steve's weapon was halfway out of its holster by the time he realized there was nothing there. “My Lady?” the Druid asked, beating him to the punch.
“I am certain that we are being followed,” the Pillar stated. Monolith placed her hand against the nearest tree.
“I do not see anyone,” she said with conviction.
“And yet...” Liane muttered, only half sure of herself. This time, Steve managed to beat the Druid, and moved first. He tried to place one hand on her shoulder, only for her to jerk away and glare at him. He held his hands up in a placating, apologetic manner.
“We’ve had a trying time, your mind is probably playing tricks on you,” he said, softly.
Her glare intensified, before it shifted to uncertainty when she looked back. “I was certain...” she said, trailing off. “Perhaps you are right,” she admitted, and spun back to the direction they were traveling. “Let us press on.”
The Druid gave a short nod and started walking, yet when Liane's back was turned, she shared a meaningful glance with Steve.
They walked for over an hour in silence before Monolith called them to a halt near a small path leading down the mountain. “This is where I must leave you,” she said. “If you follow that path down the mountain, you will reach the main road, from there it is a straight journey toward the Capital. You should be able to find an inn or a traveler's stop where you may be able to get horses to speed up the journey.” She reached for one of the trees, and took out a wooden container of sorts.
“Take this, My Lady,” Monolith said. “It contains food and drink, and should tide you over until you find civilization.”
“We are grateful for your assistance, My Lady,” Liane said, accepting the container before frowning and looking over her shoulder. For a few moments, she gazed, before returning her focus to the Druid in front of her. “It is doubtful we would have made it this far without you.”
“Perhaps,” Monolith allowed. “And perhaps not. Have a safe journey, My Lady.”
“Thanks, for your help,” Steve finally said grudgingly. The Druid chose not to respond to his tone, merely dipped her head, and turned.
They watched in silence as the Druid approached the solid wooden barrier, which slipped open at her approach, seemingly encompassing her in shadows and hiding her from view. Within moments, the barrier had closed once more.
“We should get underway,” Liane said, turning and walking off as best she could, leaning on Lucifer more than she wanted to admit. Her body felt weak still, despite the Druid's nurturing energy healing the majority of her injuries.
“Well, that was a waste of time,” the foreign pilot grouched as he slumped next to her. She resisted the urge to correct him on his posture, and focused on walking.
“The Lady Druid covered us, gave us a spot to rest, and healed our injuries. If we hadn't made for the Sanctuary, we would not have had a chance to rest, would not have been healed, and would likely be dead. If we had continued our old path, we likely would have reached the logging settlement, and have gotten a lot of Commoners killed in the cross-fire of our battle.” Her voice rose as she continued her diatribe, and finally the Mage drew a deep breath. “You were rude and unthoughtful toward the woman who assisted us to the best of her ability. It was most humiliating for me to be in your presence while you did so.”
&
nbsp; “Hey now, she is the one who left us! If I'm rude, she and the rest of the Druids are cowards!” the pilot snapped back. “You wouldn't even call her on it, just stood there taking it and being nice to her. That was humiliating.”
Liane's fingers clenched Lucifer until her knuckles drew white. “The Druids safeguard our country. They’re not here to settle our internal disputes,” she returned, shorter than usual under the influence of her physical weakness and her fatigue. She glared at him. “Surely you have services that do not meddle internally in your country, and only face external threats? Would you call them cowards if they would not assist you with an internal dispute?”
“A dispute? Is that what you're calling this? Lady, your Capital's sealed off, a bomb took out your safe house and killed three of your people, and a hit squad just tried to kill us. I'd say this is beyond a dispute and is going to 'civil war' levels,” Steve growled. “And yes, I would expect any service in the United States to help out if our fucking Capital got sealed off!”
His coarse language offended her deeply, and Liane could feel her injured magic swell and rage, burning like liquid fire in her chest. The pain washed away her anger, and she hissed while it subsided. Finally, she looked back at him, and decided to treat him the same way she would have treated her Assistant. “Your coarse language is offensive and unbecoming. We will remain silent for ten minutes while you contemplate your words,” she told him sternly. She ignored the content of his message completely. This was Kiria, there were no civil wars, no insurrections, or other plots. People attacking the government found themselves on the wrong end of a government possessing the most potent arsenal of magical weapons in the world.
“What!? Lady-” he started, before she cut him off with nothing but a glare.
“Such language is not tolerated. Fifteen minutes of silence for your contemplation,” she stated, coldly, imperiously, as if she weren't injured, weak and her magic damaged.
He crossed his arms, huffed, and theatrically looked the other way. It didn't matter to her, if he wanted to act like a child unable to mind his words, she was more than capable of treating him as such. Something nagged at the back of her senses, and immediately her dispute with Steve was forgotten. Spinning around, she leaned on Lucifer, bringing up her empty hand. Residual pain in her chest refrained her from using magic while she glared back at the forest.
The pilot remained silent, scoffing silently behind her. Slowly, she relaxed and started walking forward once more, ignoring his scoff and the sarcastic look on his face. She was sure that someone had been following them; it annoyed her that she couldn't find anything.
They had been trudging carefully along the forested, sloping path down the mountain for close to half an hour before Steve ventured to say anything. “Can I talk yet?”
“That would depend on what you have learned,” Liane answered calmly, not lifting her eyes from the path they were on. “Did you learn to mind your words?”
From the corner of her eye, she watched him stiffen. “They're just words,” he ground out. “It's not like I insulted anybody.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the top of the mountain. “I was just annoyed at the lack of help we got. We're under attack, for Christ's sake!”
Liane frowned. “That is an interesting expression. I do not know who 'Christ' is, nor why his welfare would be of import in this discussion, but I will table that part of the discussion for now. We are indeed, under attack. The Lady Druid helped us to the best of her ability, going as far as to do so under her own, personal privilege, when her superiors remained expressly neutral. I have tried to explain this to you before, and I will try it again.” She stopped walking, and turned to face him.
“The Druids care only for Kiria, the country. They are here to protect this island and its inhabitants against the forces of nature. They are not here to wage its wars, to mediate in dispute between its citizens, or even to assist its government – their sole purpose is for the protection of this island and all who dwell on it against the forces of nature,” she said, calmly, levelly, hoping he would finally get the point.
Steve gaped at her. Obviously he still didn't. “But... we're under attack. From what you've said and found, this is practically a civil war. Shouldn't they get involved?”
For a moment, the Pillar had the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. She resisted the urge, and took a deep breath. “What business is it of the Druids, what government is on Kiria?” It ached in her heart to have to admit to the possibility of a coup or a civil war. An uprising. Revolution. Its very name was enough to deviate Mariam from her path. Now she was faced with it in her own front yard. She swallowed deeply. No; there was no revolution, no civil war. This was merely a bunch of Nobles that were unbound by oaths or vows. They were criminals, not terrorists.
Theories she could handle. Theories were safe. Theoretical discussion didn't involve the future of Kiria, it was merely an intellectual exercise. That's what this was, an intellectual exercise. In theory, why would the Druids involve themselves in a change of government, wanted or not? She thought for a few moments.
“In theory, should the Emperor be overthrown, the next government will still be Kiria and it would still have people under it, and it would still need the Druids to protect them against Nature's forces outside of the Great Barrier. Why would the Druids involve themselves, take sides, and quite possibly lose so many of their members in combat that they would no longer be able to execute their tasks?”
“You're saying the Druids aren't a part of Kiria, and aren't loyal to its government,” Steve muttered, shocked. “As long as they keep on doing what they're doing, they're not going to take any sides, and just let things come and they do.”
Liane shrugged calmly. “More than likely, yes.” She turned, and started walking again. For a few minutes, they walked in silence, Liane glancing at him every now and then. When it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything else, the Pillar looked straight at him.
“It appears you still have not learned anything,” she said.
“I've learned a lot about your … country,” Steve muttered, a slight hitch indicating that he had wanted to use a less than stellar adjective tied to 'country', but resisted right at the end.
“And yet, you claim that 'they are just words',” the Mage spoke. “Clearly, you have heard, but not listened.”
The pilot frowned, annoyed. “I don't feel up to this mystical shit right now,” he grunted. “If you've got something to say, say it. Don't go for this whole 'learn for yourself' bull crap, I don't have the patience for it.”
Liane shook her head, and sighed. “Words have power in Kiria,” she said. “Every word is measured and weighed, every syllable is deliberate. One speaks words, and fights with them, so one doesn't have to fight with magic. Think of this, when your words have power, the ability to shape reality around you, would you not be careful with them as well? Would you not use the perfect word for the situation, rather than meaningless insults or coarse language that might either be misinterpreted, or cause an unwanted situation?”
“I guess,” the pilot answered, morosely.
“I know,” Liane said, in turn. “There is difference between words just like there is between magic, and one must remain in control over their words as one remains in control over magic. It is claimed the Nobility employs Decorum so that we may fight with words rather than magic, but I believe firmly that the system was created in ancient times to allow us to focus on what we say and remain in control over ourselves as a way to remain in control over our magic. Imagine, if you will, the difference between smolder, burn, and immolate. In essence, each sets something on fire. In reality, they were quite different.”
“I'm no Noble,” Steve protested. “So why should I mind my words? It's not like I would set something afire if I said 'immolate'.”
“No, but you must keep in mind who it is you are talking you, and how easy it is to offend a Noble whose entire life is spent controlling emotions, w
ords, and magic,” Liane admonished. She frowned, and twitched to look over her shoulder. For a few moments, she kept walking while looking backward, before stopping and turning completely. “I was sure this time that I could feel someone watching us,” she muttered.
“We've both been under a lot of stress,” Steve spoke, suddenly sounding a lot gentler than he had been. “The stress must be getting to you.”
The Pillar took a deep breath, then let it out. “Perhaps,” she allowed verbally, although she didn't accept it internally.
“You're easily offended if you're offended by coarse language,” the pilot said, returning to their earlier conversation. Liane felt irritation rise in her chest, drawing a pained spark from her damaged magic. The topic itself annoyed her, and the fact that she continued to feel as if they were being followed did not improve her mood.
“And you are ignorant if you fail to take other cultures in mind,” the Mage answered, calmly. “I do not know your culture, and yet I have done my best to ignore your insults and make allowances for your behavior. You have only worsened since we met. Obviously, permitting you leeway was a mistake on my part. From now on, I shall have no other recourse but to reprimand you as I would a Commoner of Kiria.”