Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “I have a question,” Nyx claims, raising her hand for attention. “Do you really want me to be close to the krypters while using my magic?”

  “Your focus will be on the Lich, so you can avoid the krypters,” Luke answers from where he is sitting.

  “I’m not worried about the Lich. I don’t need a lot of my magic to handle him,” Nyx says with a derisive laugh. “My concern is that the krypters will try to intercept my spells and make things worse. I’d have to get close to the Lich, which means I’ll have to use more conservative spells. Even then, the Lich could deflect my spells into the krypters.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Tzefira admits. She nods to the young healer, who approaches Nyx and hands her five vials of thick, red liquid. “The krypters have consumed enough of your aura for you to easily pull them apart like you did to the large one at the goblin village. We’ve created a serum that will cleanse your body when you start to feel sick. You have to take the serum as soon as you feel nauseous. If you are throwing up then you might not be able to keep the serum down long enough for it to work.”

  Nyx holds up one of the vials, delicately turning it in her hand. A beam of sunlight strikes the vial, allowing her to see how bright the liquid is. The crimson reminds her of strawberry jam and tipping the vial shows that it might be just as thick. Out of curiosity, Nyx pops off the cork and takes a deep sniff of the liquid’s scent. She wrinkles her nose at the overpowering smell, which is so sweet she feels her teeth ache.

  “What is this stuff?” she asks, corking the vial and putting all five in her magic pouch.

  “Griffin’s blood,” the old healer replies before anyone can stop him.

  “Where in the world would you get-” Nyx starts to say. She stops when her eyes fall on Luke and her face turns pale. “Oh for the love of Gabriel! This is Luke’s blood, isn’t it? That’s vile and disgusting! I’m not drinking his blood like a vampire!”

  “I told you she would freak out,” Luke mentions to Tzefira. “Technically, it’s the griffin’s blood. I transformed before they filled the vials.”

  “Still disgusting, little brother!” Nyx angrily shouts. “I thought griffin blood only worked on natural poisons. The krypters are magical.”

  “The griffin said your aura is pure, so her blood can affect it,” Luke calmly counters with a wide grin. “Trust us, Nyx.”

  Nyx grimaces and pouts. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Quit complaining!” the mercenary barks. She scratches her scars and slowly calms down. “It’s the only way we can prevent you from turning into a liability in the field. Now, you can either use those vials yourself or I will personally force feed you during the battle. It’s your choice.”

  “Stop bossing me around like you’re my mother,” Nyx snaps, crossing her arms like a defiant child. “I’ll take the vials, but I’m going to think of a way to avoid using them. Maybe I can pull the aura out of the krypters and turn it into a spell before I absorb it.”

  “That sounds necromantic,” Timoran interjects with a voice full of concern and worry. “I do not think you should risk using the dark magics. It could lead you down a corruptive path and we may be forced to kill you.”

  Nyx pats Timoran on the head and smiles at the large man. “I recently learned that necromancy doesn’t always equal evil. I’ll be careful and trust my friends to protect me from myself. If you and Luke aren’t up to the task then I’m sure Sari will have a few tricks to keep me in line.”

  “Unless anybody has something relevant to say, we should get going,” Tzefira impatiently declares. “Each of us will take a satchel of supplies, but I expect Luke and Timoran to locate everyone if we get separated. My tracking skills are basic and I’m sure Nyx couldn’t track a giant through the snow.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing else to talk about?” Luke asks, cutting Nyx off before she can react to Tzefira’s barb.

  “Nothing at all,” the mercenary replies in a low, threatening voice.

  “I guess we’re ready to go then,” Luke says with a casual shrug. He trips over a pillow and stumbles into Nyx, giving Timoran enough time to leave the tent first. Luke moves ahead of Nyx, but stops at the tent flap to turn around. “Almost forgot something, Nyx. Tzefira is actually your birth mother. See you two outside after you talk.”

  A numbness running through her body, Nyx watches the tent flap shifts back into place. She slowly turns to face Tzefira, whose scarred features are red with anger. The expression of unbridled rage and fear is all Nyx needs to know that Luke blurted out the truth. With a knot growing in her stomach, Nyx focuses on the mercenary to see through any illusions that are cloaking her true form. She immediately notices Tzefira’s violet eye and angular features that look very much like her own. For several minutes, they stand in silence and stare at each other.

  “Say something,” Tzefira requests, unable to handle the awkward silence any longer.

  “I’m not the one who has to explain herself,” Nyx coldly states. She takes a step back as soon as Tzefira moves forward. “Let’s keep this distance for now.”

  “Luke shouldn’t have said anything,” Tzefira mutters, her eyes glancing at the tent flap. “He should have kept his mouth shut.”

  “Don’t even think about being mad at him,” the caster snaps as a brief crown of fire appears on her head and licks at the air. “I wouldn’t want to find out about you after you were gone and I hope you wouldn’t want me to die without knowing the truth. So, I’m going to thank Luke for doing the right thing. The real question here is why Luke learned about my mother before I did. Does he know about my dad too?”

  “Luke met your father at Hamilton Military Academy. Yes, he’s still alive, but he was badly injured and unable to return to us before our village was attacked,” Tzefira nervously explains as she avoids Nyx’s fire-rimmed eyes. “It seems while Luke was at the academy, your father talked about losing his family and village in a fiery attack. Then, Luke met you and heard a similar story, which he put off to a coincidence. Earlier today, Luke spoke with Lord Highrider and was told about my past. Apparently, Luke is smart enough to put the pieces together. He confronted me and took my magic eyepatch off before I could stop him. I swear I was going to tell you the truth before you left Hero’s Gate, Nyx.”

  “Easy for you to say now,” Nyx angrily mutters.

  Tzefira moves quicker than Nyx expects, but the smack stops an inch short of striking the half-elf’s face. The mercenary’s hand drops to her side as she goes back to the middle of the tent and shivers. She can hear Nyx’s heavy breathing caused from a combination of the shock from nearly getting hit and a palpable roiling anger. Tzefira struggles to think of a way to calm her daughter only to realize that she barely knows the young woman. They are nothing more than strangers who happen to share the same blood. It is a realization that cuts her hardened heart deeper than she expects, forcing her to hold back her tears.

  “You deserve an apology,” Tzefira says after she regains her composure. “I should have gone to Rainbow Tower when I was healthy enough to travel, but I returned to the life of a mercenary. I never approached you or told your father about you because I feared doing so would put you in danger. That might have been a viable excuse when you were younger, but I should have visited you when you were a teenager. At the very least, I should have told you the truth soon after I had you brought to Hero’s Gate.”

  “The point is that you should have told me! Instead, I hear it from Luke!” Nyx shouts, startling several mercenaries who are resting outside. “I’m guessing his little question before he left was a signal for you to tell me or ask everyone to leave so we could talk privately. You didn’t take it and he did what you were too scared to do. Tell me, Tzefira, why was it so important for you to bring me here when you had no intention of telling me the truth? Would you have told me about my father while keeping yourself a secret?”

  “I wanted you here to fix your mistake,” Tzefira fiercely answers while she
grabs her war staff. “You want me to admit I had no intention of revealing our connection? Then I’ll admit that I was going to let you leave Hero’s Gate without knowing I’m your mother. You have more important things to worry about than finding out your parents are alive. It would have been better for you to remain ignorant.”

  “That isn’t your decision,” Nyx declares, finally taking a few steps toward the mercenary. The fiery crown grows brighter until she takes a deep breath and it fizzles away. “You always knew dad and I were alive, but you allowed us to go on thinking we lost our family. I’m sure dad has cried himself to sleep as often as I have. You let the two of us continue living in pain when you reached out to us. If you wanted to stay away from me and dad then you could have at least led us to each other. Instead, you . . . forced me to grow up believing I was an orphan who would never know her parents. I wasted so much energy and time dreaming of what you and dad were like while the two of you have been out in the world for me to stumble into. Why would you do that to your own daughter? How could you rationalize letting me grow up into this damaged creature?”

  Nyx screams in frustration and draws her mourning star, which she uses to bash at the pillows around her feet. The air is filled with feathers and scraps of fabric as she swings until her shoulders ache. She is surprised when she lifts her weapon to strike at a tent pole and it is violently jerked out of her hands. Whirling around, Nyx clenches her fist and throws a blind punch that strikes Tzefira in the side of the head. The blow knocks the mercenary down to her hands and knees, her war staff falling to the ground. Nyx catches sight of a thin chain around Tzefira’s neck and tackles her. She clumsily pulls the necklace out from under the elven woman’s chain shirt before they hit the ground. She sits on Tzefira’s chest, pinning the warrior’s arms with her knees. In childish wonder, Nyx examines the simple ring of silver with a cone-shaped sapphire on it.

  “Put that down,” Tzefira grunts. She breaks free to snatch the necklace away and knock Nyx away.

  “I’m guessing dad has one too,” Nyx says while catching her breath.

  “He has a ruby that is similar to mine,” Tzefira says, tucking the necklace back under her shirt and standing up. A burning sensation runs along her scars, causing her to scratch at the old wounds. “It’s called a Tri-Rune, an elven custom from the days when we could only birth one child in our lifetime. As our kind became more prolific, the practice was turned into a tradition to honor the firstborn. The Tri-Rune is forged on the day of birth and separated into three items to be divided between mother, father, and child. Upon the parents’ death, the child inherits all three parts of the Tri-Rune to symbolize they will always be together. The tradition isn’t done very often today, but it was the only way I could think of connecting the two of us to your trapped father.”

  “Ironic since you are the one who kept us apart,” Nyx mentions as she fingers her own necklace. “Would I have gotten your necklace if you died?”

  “I have a hidden will in Gaia that is enchanted to appear on your father’s desk upon my death,” she calmly answers. She bends down to recover her weapon and offers her hand to Nyx, who refuses to accept it. “It has specific instructions about the necklaces and an apology about never telling him about you. I’m sure that’s a confrontation I must prepare for now.”

  Nyx gets to her feet and wipes the small feathers off her clothes. “I’m sure he’ll be just as thrilled as I am.”

  “Where do we stand, Nyx?” Tzefira asks. She moves to peer out of the tent flap and watch the sinking sun. “Are we going to have a problem when we’re out there? If so then I suggest you stay behind.”

  “I’m going to help Luke and Timoran because they’re my friends,” Nyx defiantly replies, strapping her mourning star to her belt. “As for where we stand, it looks like a few feet from each other. I’ll need time if you want anything more than that. You’ve been dead to me since I was a child, but I’ve always hoped I would find out you were alive. I never dreamed I would meet you like this or that you would be this kind of woman. So, I need time to figure things out.”

  “I understand,” Tzefira replies with a nod. She holds the tent flap open for Nyx to go through, but drops her hand on the half-elf’s shoulder when she is within reach. “You’re wrong about yourself. I see that you’re damaged, but you’re healing because of your friends. The fact that you have such close friends means that you’re a beautiful person. In the little time I’ve known you I have seen that you’re warmer and kinder than I ever was. You may not take my words to heart, but know that you grew up to be the type of woman I’d be proud to call my daughter. I’m sure your father would feel the same.”

  “Thanks,” Nyx numbly drones, removing Tzefira’s hand and leaving the tent.

  The mercenary takes a deep breath and follows her daughter, frowning at the dwindling light. She can see Luke and Timoran waiting patiently by the supply tent. Both of them whisper something to Nyx and are gently pushed away by a sudden gust of wind. Tzefira stops approaching when Nyx hugs Luke, her face protectively buried in his shoulder. Without her long hair covering her face, Nyx’s tears are open for the world to see. The two half-elves walk away while Timoran waves to Tzefira and holds up a satchel that she assumes is for her. Ignoring the stares and whispers of her men, the leader of Salamander Army hurries to catch up to her young allies before they leave her behind.

  11

  Sari flops onto the bed, sending the collection of maps flying into the air. She rubs her aching eyes as she stares at the cavern’s distant ceiling. The sound of Kayn rustling through maps on the floor causes her to whimper for his attention. Her whimper grows into a loud, urging hum, which Kayn ignores since it is the fourth time she has done this in the past hour. Sari eventually gives up when she feels dizzy and her throat is nearly raw. Refusing to go back to the maps, she pulls out her bloodline diary and flips to where she last stopped. Most of the earlier entries were interesting because they told her about the beginning of the clan. Now, she is finding the entries about some of her more entertaining ancestors.

  “Apparently, one of my ancestors was a gambler who could only win under the light of a full moon. There were rumors that he was turned into a lycanthrope by Silvestris the Nature Goddess after he stole food from her shrine,” Sari says as she holds the book over her head and lazily kicks her feet in the air. “Our clan attempted to cleanse his spirit after two children were found eviscerated in their beds. Instead, they revealed that another clan member was a transformed demon and they killed her. My ancestor was free of suspicion, but he never won at gambling again. Not sure how I feel about the outcome of that story.”

  “The man probably had a minor magic item that worked on full moon nights and the cleansing spell undid the magic,” Kayn replies from the messy floor. “Is there anything in your diary that can help us? Your bloodline had the most powerful auras among our clan, so there might be something in there.”

  “Do you realize casting a finding spell to locate a reflector blade is pointless?” Sari inquires, rolling onto her stomach and crossing her ankles. “The spell will be sent back and the only thing you’ll learn is where you’re standing. That’s why our spell showed us absolutely nothing.”

  “We must have messed up the spell,” Kayn argues, running a hand through his brown hair. “Otherwise, we would have located the shawl, which is supposed to be in Hero’s Gate. If the spell is impossible then we have to do something else.”

  Sari puts her book in a skirt pocket and rolls off the bed, gracefully sliding to the floor. She playfully rubs her feet against Kayn’s bare back. He does not react, so Sari massages his back with her nimble toes and heels. After several minutes, Sari grumbles at the continued lack of attention and stretches her legs until her feet are nearly over her head. She gives Kayn a few more seconds to acknowledge her before she swings her legs down. With a loud crack, her heels strike his upper back and he crashes to the floor.

  “What’s your problem, Sari?!” Kayn shouts, jump
ing to his feet. He grabs her by the ankles to pick her up, but all he is able to do is uselessly yank on her immovable body. “Unstick yourself and stop fooling around. That really hurt!”

  “That’s what you get for ignoring me and wasting our time,” Sari declares, wrapping her legs around Kayn’s arm and spinning him onto the bed. He lands face first on the soft mattress and is about to get up when Sari straddles his waist. “Please stay down and listen. Those are normal, non-magical maps, so you won’t find the sword or the shawl on them. We need to figure out a better way to locate your precious tools. Have your thieves found anything?”

  “They’re looking, but the guards keep catching them. I’m wasting more time sending members to break thieves out of jail than steal treasure and information,” he answers as Sari goes back to massaging his back. “I heard the goblins have been appeased, so the guards are free to focus all of their attention on us. It looks like the Hero’s Gate guild has run its course and will have to be disbanded soon.”

  “Well, you have me now, so maybe it’s for the best that you cut them loose,” Sari suggests as she puts more pressure on Kayn’s tense muscles. “They’ve learned enough skills to survive as independent thieves or they can join the guild in Rodillen. I heard the Rodillen guildmaster recently died of injuries he suffered over a month ago. Though, it sounds more like several guild members decided to get rid of him because he was useless and crazed.”

  “I’m going to keep my guild going until I confirm my targets are no longer in the city,” Kayn claims. He flips himself over and holds Sari’s hands against his chest. “I want you to leave Hero’s Gate when your friends destroy krypters. Don’t come back for me or wait for me to join you. You’re not a common thief, Sari. You need the open road.”

  “Not this again,” Sari groans. She tries to free her hands, but Kayn holds her tightly. “You can’t do this alone. Luke and Nyx will understand why I have to stay behind. If they don’t understand, I’ll slip away when they aren’t paying attention.”