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

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “I’ll never be alone,” Sari whispers into Nyx’s ear. A fine mist of magic flows from Sari's lips into her friend’s nose. “You and Luke are my new family and I’ll never leave either of you. All I ask is that you never abandon me and love me as much as I love you. I do love you, big sister, as if you and I were related by blood. Now, I’m going to release my spell and you’re not going to be mad at me. At least I hope so.”

  Sari snaps her fingers and Nyx immediately reaches out to grab her by the ear. “I told you to stop kissing me and using your magic on me. Maybe you and I were destined be sisters because you’re amazingly irritating at times. One of these days, I’m going to magically seal your mouth or make you allergic to kissing.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Sari shouts, grabbing Nyx by the nose and pulling. “Kissing is the greatest thing in the world! I’d never forgive you for cursing me like that!”

  “You’re hurting my nose!”

  “You’re hurting my ear!”

  “We let go on the count of three.”

  “One.”

  “Two.”

  “Three.”

  They let go of each other and Sari rubs her ear while Nyx massages her nose. The half-elf is still focused on her nose when Sari yanks the sheet away from the mirror. Nyx is surprised at the new style, her fingers gingerly touching her hair. The sides and back are very short with longer hair on the top of her head. The longer hair has been carefully styled to look like a subtle, roaring inferno with part of it covering her left eyebrow. Nyx smiles at her reflection and sends a series of flames along her hair to create a mesmerizing effect. She notices Sari is patiently waiting for a response, so she turns to the smirking gypsy.

  “I love it,” Nyx says with a happy grin. “It feels strange not having all the hair on my head, but this style brings out my ears.”

  “The bangs on the side bring attention to your eyes, not that they need it,” Sari adds, ecstatic and relieved that Nyx loves the style. “You should be able to maintain it with minimal maintenance and magic. I can give you the rest of my strengthening ooze and the color vials. If you want to get wild, you can change your hair color by putting a different liquid into the mixture. Try not to do it too much or you might forget your original color.”

  “Is that from experience?” Nyx asks, spinning on her toes and enjoying the breeze on her bare neck.

  “This blue is all natural,” Sari answers with an exaggerated flip of her long hair. “I always wondered about it, but I guess it comes from being part naiad. Just another unique benefit of being me.”

  “You’re full of tricks,” Nyx admits. She turns to take a longer look at Sari, who gets nervous under the steady gaze. “You’re an agile dagger-fighter, a master knife-thrower, an illusionist, an emotion worker, a seductress, a master thief, you can become immovable, and now you have naiad powers. I hate to mention the obvious, but you’re amazingly powerful even though it doesn’t seem that way at first glance. People will underestimate you unless they take the time to consider everything you’re capable of. Even if they plan for all of your abilities, they would need so many levels of containment that most of their resources would be focused on you. I wonder what Gabriel has planned for you.”

  “I’ve been wondering that too,” Sari claims, taking a seat on the bed and crossing her legs. “My powers have been growing very fast. You’ve helped me improve my magic and Luke has taught me some combat moves. I took to all of the lessons with a lot more ease than I expected. It’s like my mind is designed to absorb everything you two have been teaching me. Does that make any sense?”

  Nyx takes a seat next to Sari and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You were always a fast learner, Sari, so that isn’t part of it. I think there’s more to this than either of us realize or can ever understand. I’m going to guess it all comes back to your naiad powers, which I’m sure you can master in time.”

  “I control water pretty easily, Nyxie,” Sari states with a chuckle. “I can probably control water better than you can use fire.”

  “Let’s not start a challenge that you can’t win, little sister,” the half-elf playfully snaps, squeezing Sari’s shoulder and smiling.

  “All I want to know is why I’m growing so quickly when everyone else took years to master their skills,” Sari says in a quivering voice that reveals her fear. She holds up her hand to show a thin layer of frost growing on her palm. “My naiad powers nearly killed me. I don’t think Luke was ever injured by the sudden appearance of sword-fighting abilities.”

  “Honestly, I could see that happening to him,” Nyx mentions, hoping to get a laugh out of Sari. The gypsy stares at her with a forced smile, but her eyes are filled with fear and confusion. “I can only think of one reason your powers have been exploding, but you aren’t going to like it. We can go to the celebration at the mercenary camp and talk about it later if you want.”

  “Please tell me now while I’m sober and in the mood to listen,” Sari requests as the frost vanishes. She hugs Nyx and places her head on the caster’s warm shoulder.

  “Luke, Timoran, and I are highly skilled at our trades. These are skills that have been nurtured over time due to our upbringings. Luke and Timoran were raised as warriors and I was trained as a caster,” Nyx calmly explains. She strokes Sari’s hair and shivers when the gypsy rubs her bare neck with a cold hand. “You weren’t raised to fight or focus on magic, so the skills you would need as a champion never grew. Your thief skills are amazing, but the rest of your abilities weren’t essential to your survival until recently. I don’t want to say you’re the weakest of us, but you’re certainly the least experienced. Gabriel could have planned for you to be thrown into your destiny with minimal preparation, so he made up for this by giving you abilities that appear and grow swiftly. This is all a guess because I’ve never heard of someone gaining fast-growing powers without a rapid burn out.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Sari whispers. She holds Nyx tighter, as if she can absorb some of her strength. “I don’t want to use my powers and find that I no longer have control. I could kill one of my friends or simply explode into frozen chunks that hang in the air for eternity. My powers scare me, Nyxie.”

  “I’ll tell you about when I was a child with the power to hurl fireballs and create infernos,” Nyx promises before she kisses Sari on the forehead. “First, we have a celebration to get to. I want to show off my new hairstyle and finally revel in some positive attention around here. We’re going to be leaving for Hamilton Military Academy tomorrow morning, so don’t drink too much. Try to focus more on flirting and dancing.”

  “I can do that,” Sari says with a mischievous grin. “Though, the end result may be oddly similar to me being drunk.”

  Nyx casts a sideways glance at the gypsy. “As long as you can walk in the morning.”

  “I refuse to make such a promise,” Sari declares, licking her ruby lips.

  Nyx playfully pokes the gypsy in the side before grabbing her leather boots and leading the way out the door.

  *****

  Guards and mercenaries mingle with the citizens of Hero’s Gate as they celebrate their long overdue salvation. Everyone is wearing black armbands to honor the dead, the ones worn by the mercenaries having Conrad’s name stitched into them. The local tavern owners have set up stands around the mercenary camp after having created an intricate map to grant each vendor ample access to the celebration. Several bonfires have been built, ringed with various meats and stews for sale. Several warriors stand guard over the food for the promise of free ale and meat. Minstrels and other entertainers wander the celebration, earning more money than they have seen in the last two months. The most popular attractions are the acrobats who leap and bounce from tent to tent, despite Tzefira’s screaming and cursing from below. Her occasional outbursts cause everyone to laugh before going back to singing, dancing, and talking about all of the trials that they survived.

  “Those leaping bastards better not damage my ten
ts,” Tzefira angrily mutters. She sits next to Lord Highrider and finishes her ale in a single gulp. “You seem to be in good spirits considering you’re paying for this. I know you have money and will get a lot more now that you’re the mayor, but this is going to be expensive.”

  “It all depends on how you look at it,” Lord Highrider says with a wide, toothy grin. The half-orc looks like a noble in his royal blue tunic, black breeches, and elegant ivory boots. His trusty war hammer is still strapped to his back as a reminder that he is, and always will be, a warrior. “We have much to celebrate today, Tzefira. The krypters are dead, the goblins are peaceful, and the thieves have killed themselves in their own hideout. It was probably over an expensive bauble, which the lone survivor left town with. Now, Hero’s Gate can return to being a peaceful and prosperous city. A celebration of this magnitude is necessary.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how you’re going to pay for this,” she points out, grabbing a mug of ale from a passing mercenary. He stops to stare at her, but turns away as soon as she clears her throat.

  “I’m not paying for it. There’s always a celebration when a new mayor is elected and it’s paid for by the throne,” Lord Highrider mentions. He laughs at the amused expression growing on the mercenary’s face. “This is a great coronation ceremony for yours truly. I will be very thankful to Duke Solomon for it.”

  “Somebody was born to be a politician,” Tzefira whispers into her mug of ale.

  “Timoran! Come over here!” the mayor suddenly shouts, his booming voice carrying over the crowd.

  The crowd surrounding Tzefira and Lord Highrider parts to let Timoran through. Luke and Kayn trail behind him, each with a decanter of alcohol that the guards are sure came from Timoran’s personal stash. Luke is dressed in his green dress shirt and brown breeches while Kayn is still in his dark blue, swamp-stained clothes. The gypsy’s arm is heavily bandaged and numb, so he lets it hang uselessly at his side. Timoran, the focus of everyone’s attention, is still bare-chested and wearing his bracers and breeches, but he did find time to take a bath before handling the paperwork that clears him of guard duty.

  “You tore apart my administrative office before I could inspect it,” Lord Highrider whispers as he grips Timoran’s forearm and shakes his arm. “You’re lucky you’re a barbarian, my friend. Apparently, there’s a law in Serab stating that any administrative offices damaged by an enraged barbarian are to be repaired without charging the destroyer. Duke Solomon is currently trying to find the origin of that law because it was enacted five generations ago. It’s driving him and his advisors mad. Anyway, let me stop boring you with this. I think it’s time for a toast.”

  “That is not really necessary,” Timoran politely says, accepting the large mug of ale that is thrust into his hand. “Besides, Nyx and Sari are still absent and it would be wrong for you to make a toast without them present.”

  “What did you need us for?” Sari asks as she pushes through the crowd, dragging Nyx behind her. All eyes are on Nyx’s new hairstyle, which makes the half-elf blush and stare at her feet. “Don’t make the poor thing uncomfortable. You people act like you never saw a pretty woman with short hair before.”

  “You look cute, Nyx,” Luke whispers when she walks by him. “Are you going to keep the short hair?”

  “I think so,” she admits, craning her neck in search of anyone walking by with a tray of mugs. “It’s weird feeling the wind on my neck and I still fiddle with my hair when I’m bored or nervous. I thought I’d be proud, but I feel a little exposed. On the plus side, this style is easy to maintain and there’s less of a chance of Trinity burning my hair. I can do a neat trick with fire rolling around the new style, so it looks like the flame is weaving in and out of the layers. It got a lot of applause when I did it ten minutes ago. Though, I probably should have taken some liquid courage before doing it.”

  “You’ll have to show me that some time,” Luke drunkenly says, offering her the rest of his decanter of Ifrit mead. “Now that you mention it, how come you and Trinity never seem to burn each other’s hair when you fight?”

  “This stuff tastes like water,” Nyx mentions after she takes a long chug of the Ifrit mead. She gives it back to Luke and snatches one of the mugs of ale that Sari recently claimed. “I can only answer for myself, but I’m sure most casters do the same thing. We reflexively use a little of our aura to strengthen our magical resistance. Think of it as an invisible suit of armor that gives you minimal protection, so it really only saves your hair and skin from minor spell damage.”

  “You two be quiet. Lord Highrider wants to speak,” Sari hisses while the tall mayor stares at the half-elves. “Is it Mayor Highrider now? Do you even have a first name?”

  “I guess it’s Mayor Wendi Highrider now,” he says in a voice that is tinted with sadness over the loss of his old moniker. He notices Sari and Nyx giggling about his first name and clears his throat for their attention. “It was my mother’s name and she died giving birth to me. Do you wish to continue laughing?”

  Sari and Nyx immediately go back to their drinks and whisper, “Sorry, sir.”

  “It is time for a speech to honor our heroes!” Mayor Highrider loudly declares, his voice rolling across the camp. He patiently waits for everyone to quiet down before standing on a crate with his mug held high in the air. “Hero’s Gate has been saved and returned to us by so many people that it is impossible to list them all individually. First, I would like to publicly thank all of the Salamander Army and announce that they will always have a home here. If any of you wish to join the guard then you are more than welcomed.” He pauses when he hears a wave of laughter run through the crowd. “That was not a joke, but I am too happy to take offense.”

  “You mean you’re too drunk!” shouts a half-orc mercenary from the middle of the crowd.

  With a scowl, Mayor Highrider finishes his drink and hurls the empty mug at the laughing mercenary. The mug breaks against the half-orc’s bald head, the warrior automatically flinging his hands up to touch the injury. A dull thud echoes as the mercenary’s metal cup, clutched in his right hand, slams into his temple. Everyone laughs as he collapses to the ground and the healers move through the crowd to tend to him.

  “I suggest that you allow me to finish my speech. Remember that I may be mayor now, but I will always be a warrior at heart. In simpler words, I like to fight as much as all of you,” the former knight says as he takes another mug of ale and holds it aloft like the last one. “We owe a great debt to Tzefira, who has not only led her men to protect our city, but has offered to remain in Hero’s Gate. Her men will patrol the forests and support the guard until we have regained our strength. I would also like to publicly thank Luke Callindor, Sari, and Kayn for their help in defeating our enemies. Luke risked his life against the krypters as one of Tzefira’s scouts while Sari and Kayn infiltrated the thieves guild. Without their hard work, we would still be struggling. Cheers to these heroes!”

  “Cheers!” the crowd shouts before drinking. Timoran and Nyx look expectantly at the half-orc, who smiles down at them.

  “Both of you deserve special thanks,” Mayor Highrider softly whispers, getting a nod of agreement from Tzefira. He turns back to the crowd and holds his mug over Timoran. “This man came to us as a stranger and joined the guard to defend us against bandits. Imagine my surprise when this barbarian offered to help us in our time of need. He was instrumental in protecting us from the krypters and struck more fear into those monsters than all of us combined. Through blood and ale, this stranger has become our brother and one of our city’s greatest children. We are sad to see him leave us and we pray that the gods see fit to carry him safely to old age and beyond. Thank you for all of your help and friendship, Sir Timoran Wrath! You are more worthy of that title than many of the knights I have ever met!”

  The entire camp erupts in applause and clanging mugs while Timoran bangs his mug with Tzefira. Cheers of praise ring out from drunken men and Timoran’s acute hearin
g catch the sound of excited women calling for his hand in marriage. He smiles at the admiration while patiently waiting for Mayor Highrider to speak about Nyx. With a quick glance, the barbarian sees that the caster is nervously standing between Luke and Sari. The mayor appears to have forgotten her, his attention stolen by a pair of stuffy knights with insulted looks on their faces. Deciding that he has to do something, Timoran raises his head to the sky and roars loud enough to drown out the noise of the celebration. All of the partiers freeze and look in his direction as he gestures toward Nyx, causing Mayor Highrider to politely nod his head.

  “There is a final person that we must bring our attention to,” the towering half-orc says in a somber voice. He extends his hand to Nyx and helps her stand on a crate, so the entire crowd can see her. “Many of us believed our troubles were caused by this young woman because we did not understand our true enemies. We were angry and scared, so we lashed out at the only person we knew was connected to our problems. It never crossed our minds that she had suffered as a result of the goblin swarm. Nyx lost her magic for several days after the incident, which would be the equivalent of us losing our eyesight or hearing. When I went to ask for her help, I found a terrified woman still willing to help us. I can only imagine what she thought when she was met with our anger and hate. Still, she stayed and fought to repair the damage she felt she had caused. Even though we refused to change our minds and forgive her, she stood against the krypters that were immune to her magic. I have personally seen her bandaged and injured several times, but she never considered abandoning Hero’s Gate. For all of your sacrifice, your courage, and the blood that you bled for those who hated you, we thank you for everything you have done for us, and we ask for your forgiveness. Everyone raise your drink to Lady Nyx of Rainbow Tower!”