Andoran's Legacy

by M. Gregg Roe

  “Please wear clothing,” he said, gesturing at her. She hadn’t been wearing anything under her cloak, but that was typical. Guildlings had great tolerance for temperature extremes.

  “Of course. We will wear the dresses that Lady Fern made for us.”

  Birchbark nodded. “I will notify the ogres. One of them will carry Kaleena.” The woman could barely walk due to her advanced age of nearly two centuries.

  “Thank you. Kaleena still refuses to move to a lower floor.” Bethany flashed an odd-looking smile that always looked fake to him. “She enjoys the view.”

  “I don’t blame her. We will look for you at noon.” He was reaching for the door when she suddenly spoke up.

  “Will I be permitted to reproduce?”

  That was something that he and his wife had discussed at some length. “We could hardly deny you that.”

  Bethany tilted her head to the right—her version of a nod. “I am grateful. Perhaps when the time arrives, I will ask Jethro. He has been kind to us.”

  “He would insist on marrying you and helping to raise the child.”

  Bethany’s eyes slowly widened. “I had not thought of that. We did not raise our own children.”

  Birchbark smiled at her, noting how her skin was darkening—a sign that she was worried. “That is years away. I guarantee that we can find you a male who will be happy to not have to help raise the child.”

  In response, Bethany simply stared at him with her unblinking eyes. “I will inform Kaleena of your invitation.” She went through the door opposite that gave access to the spiral staircase, closing it behind her.

  Birchbark gave the matter some thought himself on the way back to his home. He and Fern had slain a great many of the creatures that had once served as the driving force behind the Zardis Thieves’ Guild. Fern had been ruthless that day, killing adults and children alike. That was something that still worried him. He had killed quite a few himself, making use of the enormous earth elemental that he had summoned with the EarthStaff. But he had spared one cavern that he had stumbled across. It was a nursery, filled with nearly a dozen young and several adults. He had said nothing about it to his wife, but he would eventually tell Bethany.

  The lunch went well, but Fern returned later than expected that afternoon after taking Jethro to Rohoville. And that was only the beginning because all was not well with her.

  Draymund had never seen Fern so happy. With both hands clasped to her chest, she said, “You have no idea of how relieved I am by this news.” She glanced to her right. “I am certain that my husband is as well.”

  “I don’t know,” said Birchbark, grinning toothily. “I still like the sound of Dark Lord Birchbark.”

  The affection between the two of them was obvious, but Draymund did have one concern. To his eyes, Fern’s skin had a sallow cast, and her face looked somewhat drawn. It was shocking given that the woman was a cleric. He took a drink of the ale they had served him as he thought about what to say.

  “Fern, are you having health issues?” In his experience, it was usually best to be direct.

  “I am.” Her lips worked briefly. “What Josara did to me is affecting my wellbeing in ways I can neither understand nor treat. I sometimes confuse her memories with my own. The abilities she gifted me are no longer reliable. I now use them as little as possible.”

  That meant that Draymund would be flying back home. “Have you sought guidance from Arwon?” He couldn’t imagine that she hadn’t, but he felt he had to ask.

  Fern clasped her hands together on her lap. “I pray each day. The last four nights, I have had exactly the same dream. I am standing in Kaleena’s bedroom. I—”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Draymund. “Who is Kaleena?”

  It was Birchbark who answered, and the explanation took a while. He found himself wondering just who they had told about this, or if they were trying to keep it a secret. If Celebern were to find out about the two Guild survivors, he wouldn’t hesitate to try to obtain at least one of them for questioning and study.

  Fern had refilled all of their cups while her husband spoke. She took a deep breath before continuing to describe her dream. “Contained in one of Josara’s memories is the method she used to transfer her memories and abilities to me. In the dream, I use the same method to transfer them to Kaleena. She is mercifully unconscious when the process kills her, burning her body to ash and yet generating no heat.”

  “Guildlings are resistant to magic,” explained Birchbark. “I think that’s why it kills her. Bethany is younger, but it would probably kill her too.”

  Fern showed a slight smile. “I am glad that you are here, Draymund. Your arrival is timely, perhaps even ordained. I worry about where the dream ends. Have I been restored? Or have I perished as well? There is a feeling of relief and loss, but nothing more.”

  Draymund suddenly realized what she was asking of him. “If you die in the process, you want me to take your body back to the Witch’s City to be raised.”

  Fern lowered her head in shame. “I spoke to Kaleena yesterday in private. She … volunteered. She said that her years weighed on her, that she was ready to move on.” Fern closed her eyes and began to quietly sob.

  Birchbark stood up and motioned at him. They ended up in what was probably Jethro’s room, neat and orderly with one small bed. It was fairly dark because the window’s shutters were closed.

  “I just don’t see any choice,” said Birchbark. “Arwon doesn’t communicate directly with his clerics, but he does sometimes use dreams.”

  “And this dream is clearly prophetic,” added Draymund. “Arwon is basically instructing her to make it come true.”

  “Fern is growing weaker by the day. I don’t want Kaleena to die, but if it will save Fern …” Birchbark’s jaw tightened. “We have to do it now, while Fern is still strong enough, and while you are here.”

  “I agree.” He could see the pain in the man’s face. Birchbark loved Fern deeply. “I will help however I can. We should do it while it’s still light.”

  “Bethany is going to be a problem. She may need to be restrained, and she’s stronger than she looks.”

  “If necessary, I’ll magically enhance my strength and speed. And I’ll cast Silence on Kaleena’s room.”

  Birchbark nodded solemnly. “Then let’s get Fern and head over.”

  They ran into a snag almost immediately, encountering Bethany before they had gone even fifty yards. Draymund knew what he had to do. He turned on the charm. After introducing himself, he expressed an interest in learning more about her. He suggested that Bethany show him around Tritown while Birchbark and Fern went to see Kaleena, and she readily agreed.

  Draymund enjoyed the tour. He had met ogres before, but never anyone quite like Bethany. When they finally returned to the house, she spotted a thick sheaf of papers on the table in the sitting room and rushed over. She picked up the top sheet and read it as her skin began to turn a dull orange.

  “Elder!” she cried. “How could you do this to me? Now I am truly alone.” Then she simply seated herself and began to read the remaining sheets.

  Feeling both uncomfortable and sad, Draymund went to the kitchen to make them some tea. The deed had been done.

  Birchbark saw the change. Fern’s green eyes were the same, and yet somehow different. Her expression was flat, devoid of emotion. The way that she held herself, staring at the fine blue ash that was all that remained of Kaleena, was simply wrong. He knew in his heart that his Fern, the woman he loved, was gone. He felt weak, heartbroken, alone.

  “Where am I?” she asked, not in the language spoken in Andoran’s Realm, but in Birchbark’s native language of Kaldiran. “I do not understand.” She held up both her hands and stared at them. “Am I now human?”

  “My name is Birchbark,” he said in the same language, comforted that she still spoke in the same formal manner. “Your name is Fern. Yes, you are now human. What is the last thing that you remember?” he asked, even though
he was certain that he already knew the answer.

  Fern took a step back from the bed and turned to face him. “I remember snow and ice and cold. And there were buildings—many of them. There was an entire city fallen to Winter. My home, perhaps?”

  “Yes, but that was some time ago.” As he had suspected, her mind was that of the Fern that he and his companions had encountered on Yunn nearly two decades ago. At that time her skin had been pale green, part of an alteration that inured her to the cold. And an alteration that he had labored mightily to remove so that she could live a normal life after they returned to Andoran’s Realm.

  “I do not remember having a name. I remember nothing before the cold and snow.”

  “You never could remember anything before,” he said gently, still striving to control his emotions. Why had the memory loss gone so far back? Why not just to when Josara had transferred her abilities to Fern? “Your memories of your life after seem to be missing now. I was the one that gave you that name.”

  “I do not understand.” She gestured at the bed. “Did someone die? Was I responsible?”

  There was no point in even trying to explain about Kaleena. He felt emotionally drained, but he needed to stay strong. Maybe her memory loss was just temporary. He would examine her and ask Draymund to do the same.

  Adopting a friendly smile, he motioned toward the door with his left hand. “I’ll try to explain, but at home. It’s not far from here.”

  “Home?” She looked at him searchingly. “Are we … ?”

  How was he ever going to explain? “We live together. Now please come along.” He held out his right hand, and she took it hesitantly.

  On the way down the spiral stone stairs, he described the town and its inhabitants, fearing she might flee at the sight of ogres. On the ground floor, he had to help her with her cloak. When they finally stepped outside, she looked all around in wonder.

  “This is marvelous. No snow, but it is cold.”

  “That is because of the time of the year,” he explained. “It will be much warmer in two months or so.”

  “It was always cold in the city. Always.”

  Birchbark maintained his friendly smile. “I will explain, but it’s a long story.”

  Still lightly holding Fern’s left hand, he began to lead her among the houses. Ogres called out greetings that he returned. Fern smiled at them, but she looked puzzled. That was probably because she couldn’t understand the language.

  Back at the house, he hung up their cloaks while Fern peered around curiously. There was no one in the sitting area, but Draymund emerged from the hallway just after they entered. He stared at Fern and pursed his lips, clearly disconcerted.

  “Fern,” said Birchbark, “this is Draymund. He’s a friend.”

  Draymund hesitated. “It is nice to meet you.” The words were in the correct language for Fern to understand, but they were oddly accented.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you,” replied Fern with an innocent smile.

  Birchbark gestured at the sofa. “Please sit down. I need to have a word with my friend.” Fern promptly obeyed, but she looked uncomfortable.

  This time they went to the master bedroom because Bethany was in Jethro’s room reading what Kaleena had left her. After taking a seat, Birchbark quickly explained what had happened. Draymund stood silently for a while before beginning to speak.

  “Let’s focus on the positives,” he said. “Fern is alive, and she already seems healthier to me. Her memory might come back on its own, but if not, maybe the LifeStaff can help her. I would offer to take her back with me to the Witch’s City, but, to be honest, I’m not certain if I can fly that far carrying along another person.”

  Birchbark could easily fly that far, but only by turning himself into a bird. He couldn’t take her either. “I think we should wait,” he said. “I’m going to start teaching her the language and trying to jog her memory. If that doesn’t work, I’ll bring her to the Witch’s City.” The ogres would gladly provide an escort.

  Draymund smirked slightly. “This means no more teleporting everywhere.”

  Birchbark appreciated his friend’s attempt at levity. “More importantly, no more of Fern suddenly sounding like Josara.” At least that was what he hoped. Now he found himself worrying that some remnant of Josara might return if Fern did regain her memory.

  Returning to the sitting room, they found Bethany sitting opposite Fern. “She doesn’t know me,” she said to them with a distraught expression. “And I can’t understand her.” She tapped the pile of papers on her lap. “Kaleena told me not to be angry with either of you. She said it was her choice. Is she really dead?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so,” replied Birchbark. “Can you ask the ogres to deal with the remains?”

  Bethany stood up, clutching the papers to her chest. “I will take care of it. She also told me to obey you.” She left the house without saying another word.

  “What is she?” asked Fern. “She is beautiful.”

  Birchbark smiled gently at her. “That is going to take a great deal of explanation. Let’s start with something simple. Are you hungry?”

  The question startled her. “Yes, I believe that I am. I had forgotten that humans need to eat food. Before I just needed water and sunlight.”

  He spoke to her while he prepared the meal, and they both told her stories while eating dinner. But at no time did she show any sign of recognition. She truly had been reset to her past self.

  Fern slept in the spare room that night while Draymund made do with the sofa. After Draymund flew off the next morning—something that amazed Fern—he set about beginning to teach her the local language. That afternoon, they burned what was left of Kaleena on a pyre with Bethany looking on sadly.

  There would be difficult times ahead, but Birchbark was determined. One way or another, he would get back the woman he loved.

  Draymund attracted startled looks as he landed just outside the main entrance of the Witch’s Castle. During his flight back he had realized that Ermizad needed to be informed promptly, and so he had decided to seek her out first. The smells coming from the food stands that were part of the daily market tempted him, but that could wait until after he had delivered the news.

  The guards at the entrance simply waved him past. Leaving his cloak in the entryway, he made straight for Ermizad’s quarters. The two female guards there—all of Ermizad’s personal guards were female—recognized him but refused to admit him until he turned over his sword belt. Knowing it was fruitless to argue with them, he complied.

  He found both Ermizad and her daughter in the large sitting room. Ermiana was playing with brightly painted wooden blocks, seemingly trying to build a small castle. For a change, she was using her hands instead of her telekinetic ability. It reminded him uncomfortably of the story he had heard about the girl nearly killing a woman who had been sent to abduct her.

  Ermizad simply raised her eyebrows and gave him a questioning look as he walked over to the chair she was sitting in. She was dressed simply, but her white blouse did have a deep scoop neck. Ermiana glanced over at him with an impish smile. She waved, so he smiled and waved back.

  “I have news about Fern,” he began, standing at attention. He quickly summarized what had happened, noting that she showed no surprise at the mention of Bethany and Kaleena. “Fern is already showing signs of recovery as far as her health is concerned.”

  “That is well,” stated Ermizad. “Her abilities were of great use during the altercation with the Zardis Thieves’ Guild, but her behavior was troubling at times. Josara was truly trying to live on through her.”

  Other than the ogres that had served her, Draymund doubted that anyone missed Josara. The woman had been arrogant and selfish, changing allegiance when it suited her.

  Ermizad stared at him intently. “The existence of a survivor from the Guild’s leadership is to remain a secret. Is that understood?”

  “I will tell no one.” He had already come up with an
altered story that should satisfy anyone who asked.

  “Thank you, Draymund.” She turned her attention back to her daughter, a clear sign that the conversation was over.

  Back outside the castle, Draymund dined on a rice ball stuffed with pork, onion, and potato, washing it down with a cup of ale. His wife was an excellent cook, but he did enjoy simpler fare at times.

  There was another thing that he had promised to keep secret even from Ermizad: Fern no longer showed any evidence of being a spell-caster. That too seemed to have been erased from her. Fern was no longer a Priestess of Arwon, and barring some miracle, never would be again.

  15

  ‡ Thieves ‡

  The incursion had been stopped, but not soon enough.

  There were dozens of undesirables now lurking within the Witch’s City, maybe as many as half a hundred. They had reacted quickly once the problem became evident, but they really should have anticipated the issue. The Zardis Thieves’ Guild leadership had been annihilated, but most of the members had survived. Add to that the people who had been on the Guild’s payroll in some fashion, and hundreds of people had been directly affected by the conflict between the Witch’s City and the Guild. There were bound to be some that wanted revenge.

  Lieutenant Eomera suddenly cackled and pointed. “Look at those three heading back to their ship, trying to act all casual.”

  Captain Hagen glanced over at his grinning subordinate. “That means that it’s working. We may have to make this permanent.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s a lot of work.”

  What he was referring to was their current employment of clerics to screen anyone who wanted to enter the city. That had worked well during the disease outbreak in Rohoville. This was different, however. The clerics were employing their ability to tell when someone was lying, asking why the person had come, and what they planned to do in the city.