Troubled times have beset the land of Crolis. Undead, monsters, demon, and barbaric raiders have upset the normally peaceful land. Three adventurers brought together by chance now search for the source of the trouble. Chapter 4: After arriving at the Temple of Sylva, some interesting truths are revealed about Emily, Ian, and Jonathan. (Please also note that some content maybe a bit on the PG side). Note: All spells are untranslatable. Any 'foreign” languages used will be translated by footnote in the text
They reached the Temple of Sylva just as the sun began to set. The temple itself hadn’t been built so much as grown. Its walls were made of hundreds of vines and trees that had been coaxed into growing together to create an interwoven living wall. Right now, the walls were in full bloom, an explosion of colors. Rich green leaves speckled with flowers of every shape and size. Their sweet scents mingled in the temples main hall and gave those who entered a sense of calm tinged with euphoria.
Emily took in a deep breath, letting the scent fill her head. She had not expected Silnas’ reaction and thought it was promising. He obviously knew something. She just had to convince him to tell her.
A young woman dressed in green robes approached and said, “Welcome, travelers, to the Temple of the Sylva. What do you seek?”
“Leori[1] sister,” Silnas said, “I have arrived for the conclave but in the mean time I need to speak to Oleria. The others are travelers and simply wish for food and lodgings for the night. Can you see to them while I seek her?”
“Of course,” the women replied, “You will find Oleria in her chambers. The rest of you, if you will follow me.”
“Xhant[2]i sister,” Silnas said as he walked away.
“Xhanti brother,” the woman replied as she started towards an archway. Everyone went to follow her, but Emily. She paused, wondering if she should follow Silnas. She wanted to talk to him so badly.
“Emily?” Markas said, “Are you coming?”
“Oh, yes,” Emily said absently and joined the rest of them. The women led them through a series of passages, all made from the same tree-walls. Here the plants had been shaped to form open air lattices. Emily looked up and could see the last little bits of orange from the just set sun. The sky was mostly purple and a few stars had started to twinkle.
“Excuse me,” said Markas to the woman, “But I left my gryphon Kirin out in front of the temple. She needs to be fed and stabled.”
“Do not trouble yourself,” she replied, “I will see that it is done.”
“Well, you need to be careful,” Markas replied, “She can be rather picky about who she lets take care of her.”
The woman laughed, “Do not worry sir knight. The druids of Sylva are well trained in handling a variety of beasts.”
The passage finally opened into a large, round open-air pavilion. On one side, there were long tables, staffed by druids who were bringing out large baskets brimming full of various fruit, bread, and cheese. There were two large cauldrons hanging above fires, which Emily was certain were filled with soup. Another druid stood by several kegs and seemed to be distributing mugs. The middle of the pavilion was filled with tables and benches, where several druids seemed to be eating.
“This is our dining hall,” the woman said, “You are welcome to come here and get your fill. Usually, we only have three meals a day, but because of the conclave we have druids arriving constantly so we are serving food around the clock for any who arrive hungry. However, I will show you to your lodgings first, and then you can come back here at your leisure.”
The woman led them out an archway and down a path into the forest. The path led to a little cluster of huts. Each hut was also constructed from living plants, like the temple.
“I’m afraid because of the conclave our lodgings are rather full,” the woman said, “So I’m afraid you will have to share these two huts.”
“That will be more than adequate,” Markas replied, “We are most thankful for you hospitality.”
“My name is Sharon if you need anything else. Good evening,” she said as she departed.
“Good evening,” Markas called after her, “Well, I think the men should take one hut, the ladies the other.”
Emily and Marta went into their hut. The huts were completely unfurnished, so the girls unrolled their bed rolls on the floor.
“It’s pretty cramped in here,” Emily said, as she smoothed her bedroll down, “Do you think the men will have enough room?”
“Yes,” Marta replied quietly.
“Well, I’m famished,” Emily said, “Do you want to come get dinner with me?”
“No.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“Well, yes,” Marta said, “But..I…ah…I’m tired too.”
“Well, how about I bring you back something then?” Emily asked cheerfully.
“Yes, thank you,” Marta replied
Emily left the hut. It was so odd, Marta had been so chatty before, but this afternoon she had hardly said a word. Maybe she was just tired, Emily thought.
The evening air was cool and crisp. The entire temple complex had been lit with magical blue flames like her uncle used in the tower. Their soft light cast a bluish tinge on everything, covering the temple and its grounds with a dreamy haze. Emily was half way to the dining hall when she heard someone call out behind her, “Emily! Wait for me!”
She turned around and saw Jonathan running up the path toward her.
“Ah, Emily. Are you heading to dinner? Perhaps I could join you?” he asked.
“Yes,” Emily said, “And of course you can join me.”
“Excellent,” he said, “There is nothing better than dinner with a lovely maiden.”
Emily blushed, “You really think I’m lovely?”
“But of course,” Jonathan said, “And after all, how often does one come across a half-elf? And their beauty is most unique, combining the best features of both their parents.”
Parents. The word stuck in Emily’s mind.
“Do you know who your parents are?” she asked.
Jonathan paused, as if he hadn’t expected this question.
“Of course I do,” he said, and then staring at her intently he continued, “Why don’t we go take a walk alone and we can discuss it?”
“Maybe later,” Emily replied, “I’m rather hungry so let’s get dinner first.”
“Well, um…sure,” Jonathan replied, “I’m hungry too.”
They arrived at the dinning hall, helped themselves to the large feast, and sat down.
“So, tell me about your parents?” Emily asked.
“Oh, not much to tell really,” Jonathan said, “My mother was human noble woman. My father an Qualari elf ambassador. They fell in love and had me. It was a bit scandalous as they weren’t married. Of course they couldn’t be married, it was forbidden. My mother cared for me for the most part. She saw to it that I had the best education possible. And it was partly through her and my father’s connections that I’ve become as accomplished as I am. Of course, connections can only get you so far, its talent that lets you stand out from the crowd.”
“You’re very lucky,” Emily said, “Knowing your parents, knowing that they loved you.”
“Well, yes...” Jonathan began but was interrupted.
“Hello, there,” Markas, who had taken his armor off, said walking up next to them, “Is it all right if I join you?”
“Of course,” Emily said brightly, “Where’s Ian?”
“Back at the hut,” Markas replied. Emily thought it was a little weird to see Markas in normal clothes. His armor made him look rather hulking and she had expected him to look just as large without it. But instead he seemed rather thin. He was still on the tall side to be sure and muscular, but it was a lean type of muscle, the kind that was deceptively strong. Honestly, Markas didn’t fit her idea of what a knight should look like at all. In the stories, they always had blonde long, flowing rich locks, but Markas had very short trimmed sandy brown hair. And the knights of romances always had piercing blue eyes and Markas’s were blue, but a little too wide to be considering piercing.
“Well, now that the opportunity has arrived,” Jonathan said, interrupting Emily’s train of thought, “I hope I can discuss my doubts about Ian with you Sir Markas.”
“Doubts?” Emily asked.
“Well, you must admit my dear, he is a rather shady character,” Jonathan said.
“Shady?” Emily replied, “I don’t understand.”
“His manner of dress, his sullen expression, his lack of socialization, not to mention his excessive drinking,” Jonathan continued.
“I don’t see why that matters,” Emily said, “He’s been nothing but helpful on this trip. I mean he helped in the tavern fight. And he took out several of those gnolls himself.”
“Well, of course he’s a good fighter. He’s a sword for hire, that’s how he makes his living,” Jonathan said, “What’s suspicious is that he is helping us for free. I mean he certainly looks like he needs the money. What if this is some kind of trap?”
“Emily’s right. Ian, whatever his personal habits, has done nothing so far to betray our trust,” Markas said, “I admit, I had my misgivings about him when you first invited him to join us, Emily. But so far he seems to have proven trustworthy. So, unless you have proof of some misdeed, Jonathan, I suggest you forget about Ian.”
“What about his sword?” Jonathan asked, half a smile creeping across his face.
“That isn’t proof,” Markas replied.
“I don’t understand,” Emily said.
“Jonathan is implying that Ian may have got his sword through less than legitimate means,” Markas said, “I don’t know how much you know about weapons Emily, but Ian’s sword is rather remarkable for someone of his station.”
“That doesn’t prove anything though,” Emily replied, “He could have come by it through completely legitimate means.”
“Maybe if it was just a nice sword,” Jonathan said, “But he’s wrapped the hilt with leather straps to hide its decoration. Like it might have a crest on it.”
“So?” Emily said, “What difference does that make?”
“A crest would indicate that the sword belonged to a knight. And not just any knight, a knight from a noble family,” Markas said.
“You think he stole it?”
“Yes, definitely,” Jonathan replied.
“Perhaps,” Markas said at the same time, “I mean maybe he just found it.”
“Surely you jest,” Jonathan said.
“I do not,” Markas said, “At any rate, unless Ian does something blatantly wrong, I see no reason to rid ourselves of him. As Emily pointed out, he has been most useful. He has proven himself to be a talented swordsman if nothing else.”
Emily smiled. She wasn’t really sure why she had asked Ian to join them. Just when she saw him sitting by the road, looking rather dejected, she thought that he might be helpful to their cause. And it seemed he didn’t have anything better to do at the moment.
Just then, Sharon approached their table.
“Excuse me,” she said, “But Silnas wishes to speak with you Emily. He sent me to fetch you.”
“Of course,” Emily said rising, “Oh, but I promised to take Marta some dinner. She’s exhausted and I said I’d bring her something.”
“I’ll take her something,” Markas said, before Jonathan could respond.
“Thank you,” Emily said as she left to follow Sharon.
Emily followed Sharon through the open air corridors of the temple. She kept going over the conversation she had just had in her head. She felt a little hurt that Jonathan didn’t trust Ian. After all, she had been the one to invite Ian and it seemed as if Jonathan was passing judgment on her decision. She thought that they were a type of kindred soul, both of them being half-elves. At least Sir Markas had supported her. After all, it was entirely possible that Ian came by the sword through legitimate means, wasn’t it?
Sharon stopped in front of a pair of double doors. She pushed them open and led Emily into the chamber. This chamber, like the rest of temple, had walls that had been grown. The ceiling was open air, but the vines grew in a pattern that seemed familiar to Emily. In the center of the chamber, Silnas sat on a bench and a woman on another. The woman looked like an elf except her skin had a greenish tint and her floor length hair consisted of vines, leaves, and flowers.
“Miss Emily,” Sharon said, and then left the chamber.
“Come in Emily and sit down,” Silnas said, indicating an empty bench, “This is Oleria, the Seer of Sylva.”
“Welcome Emily,” Oleria said. She then turned to Silnas, “You are right. It is remarkable.”
“Excuse me?” Emily said.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Oleria said, “Just something I was discussing with Silnas earlier. I couldn’t help but notice you admiring my ceiling. You like the design.”
“Well, yes,” Emily said, “I was more wondering what those symbols are. They don’t look like any runes I know.”
“You can see them?” Oleria said, “That is very rare, most would just mistake them for a pretty pattern. But yes, they are runes. They are called the Druidic Runes, known only to druids.”
“Hence, being a scholar, I wouldn’t have encountered them before,” Emily replied.
“Yes,” Silnas said, a strange expression on his face, “But we are not here to discuss runes. We need to talk about why you left the tower. We have many questions.”
“As do I,” said Emily.
Silnas sighed, “Emily, I know you have questions. However, after talking with Oleria, the temple has decided to honor your mother’s wish that you remain ignorant about your family.”
“But…but…can’t you at least tell me why she wanted it this way?”
“I’m afraid not,” Oleria said, “But we must ascertain how much you know, how much Ivanus has told you.”
“All he said was that his promise to the tower overrode his promise to my mother,” Emily replied dully, “He refused to tell me anymore.”
“He told you nothing else concerning that promise?” Silnas asked.
“No,” Emily replied. Then she looked down at the pendant around her neck. Shaped like a delicate multi-pointed star, it was made entirely of crystal, mounted in silver. In the center of the star, an intricate multi-petaled crystal flower bloomed.
“Well there is this pendant. He did say that this was a present from my mother. That she left it with him when she left me, for him to give me when he thought I was old enough.”
“When did he give you this?” Silnas asked.
“Four days ago, for my 163rd birthday,” Emily replied.
“So up until four days ago, you were still at the tower?” Oleria asked.
“Yes.”
“And before that, he told you nothing about your family?” Oleria asked.
“No, nothing.”
“Did he say why he changed his mind?”
“Well, I’ve been asking to leave since I passed my exams sixty years ago,” Emily said, “But he always said it was better that I stay. Then, four days ago he changed his mind. He said he would keep me there if he could. But that something terrible was coming, something truly horrible. He said most people couldn’t see the signs, but something big was happening. And he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to protect me at the tower. That I was somehow involved with what was about to happen, that I had…I had a destiny.”
Silnas and Oleria looked at each other gravely.
“Emily, did Ivan tell you what you destiny was?” Silnas asked.
“No,” Emily said, “He said he didn’t know what it was, only that I couldn’t stay locked up in the tower. Even if he tried to protect me, my destiny would somehow find me. And that I presented a danger to the tower. So he had to protect the tower over me.”
“And you were all right with this?” Silnas said, an edge of anger to his voice.
“Of course,” Emily replied, “The tower is very important. If something should happened to it, it would be a travesty. I mean if something happens to me…well, I’m just me.”
“Oh child,” Oleria said, standing up and sitting next to Emily, “You are dear and precious, like all living creatures. You should not value your own life so poorly that you are willing to sacrifice it so readily.”
“Sacrifice?” Emily said, “You sound like Ivan sentenced me to death when he let me leave the tower. I mean I think it’s the best thing really. I’ve wanted to leave for so long and there really is only so much one can learn from books. And I can take care of myself, really. You’re just as bad as Mama Greta. ‘Oh, my goodness. Poor little Emily. As soon as she leaves the tower the entire world will attack her!’ Honestly, I am an adult.”
“Perhaps you are an adult by human standards,” Silnas said, “But by elf standards you are still very much a child.”
“But I’m not an elf,” Emily replied bitterly, “I’m only a half-elf, remember?”
“You are not a child,” Oleria said calmly, “But you are not yet an adult by the standards of your blood either. You are stuck between. Hence, your frustration.”
Emily was about to respond, but stopped. Oleria seemed to hit the nail on the head. She was an adult, at least physically. But because of her time at the tower, she still felt very much like a child.
“Emily,” Silnas interrupted her thoughts, “Did Ivan say anything about this destiny of yours?”
“Only that he wasn’t sure what it was,” Emily said.
“Weren’t you curious what it was?” Silnas asked.
“No, not really,” Emily said, “I mean if it is my destiny, it will happen anyway right. What good will it do knowing what it is? Besides, when destiny is revealed it becomes prophecy. And prophecies are always so cryptic.”
Oleria laughed.
“So remarkable, Silnas,” she said, and then turned to Emily, “Your attitude in this shows a maturity that is not readily apparent. As Seer, I constantly deal with the future destiny of others. And many times I wish I did not know the things I know.”
“So the future is unchangeable?”
“No, it is not as simple as that,” Oleria said, “I have revealed many people’s destiny to them. And the sad thing is often they try to change it, but their efforts only cause the very thing they were dreading to happen.”
“I understand,” Emily said.
“You do,” Oleria said, her emerald eyes gleaming, “And because you do, I offer you this opportunity. If you wish, I will reveal your destiny to you.”
“Oleria!” Silnas yelled, jumping up, “You cannot. We agreed…”
“We agreed to not tell her the thing we agreed not to tell her,” Oleria said, “But like any who see me, she is entitled to a revelation. Besides, she has been without choice for so long, it is only fair to give her at least this choice. So what do you choose, Emily?”
Emily paused. She herself knew that prophecy was rather useless. Still, Silnas was opposed to it. It seemed to her that her destiny and her mysterious past might be linked. Maybe it could provide her with clues to her family. For that it might be worth it.
“Go ahead,” Emily said.
Oleria waved her hand and the blue flame lamps in the room extinguished themselves. She stepped into the center of the room. The open ceiling was now letting in light from the full moon, which made Oleria seem more ethereal than the blue light had. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, they were glowing silver.
“The dusk of innocence is at hand,” Oleria said in a soft, silvery voice, “Four stars converge in the land of the ancestors to fight the darkness. The heart beats in the hand of death. The blood of Rosewood spilt; it will destroy the heart, unseen.”
Oleria sat down. The blue flames flickered back to life.
Emily sat in shock. She tried to analyze the prophecy Oleria had just revealed, but five words kept repeating in her head.
The blood of Rosewood spilt, the blood of Rosewood spilt, the blood of Rosewood spilt…
*****
Markas carried the bowl of soup back to the huts. As he approached, he saw Ian sitting outside the girls hut, sipping on his flask.
“You try and talk to Marta?” Markas asked.
“If I did?”
“Well,” Markas said, pausing in front of the door, “Did you find anything out?”
“Not really,” Ian said, “She didn’t seem to want to talk about it. She doesn’t seem to want to talk at all.”
“Perhaps I should try,” Markas said.
“No, I don’t think it would do any good,” Ian said, “Whatever upset her, upset her pretty bad. Where are Emily and Jonathan? You didn’t leave them alone together?”
“No, Emily’s with Silnas,” Markas said, “And I could only endure so much of that fools company. I left him at the dinning hall.”
“Are you sure that’s wise? Just because Marta and Emily are safe, doesn’t mean the other women here are,” Ian said, taking another swig.
“Not to worry,” Markas replied, looking up the path, “Here he comes now. Why don’t you keep an eye on him for awhile, while I take Marta her dinner?”
With that, Markas ducked into the girls hut, leaving Ian to deal with the obnoxious bard. He felt a little bad doing that to Ian for some reason, but he reasoned that the two of them probably deserved each other.
“Hello,” he said as he entered the hut, “Emily asked me to bring you some dinner.”
“Thank you,” Marta said, taking the bowl.
“Listen,” Markas said, “If there’s anything you want to tell me…”
“There’s nothing,” Marta said, staring at the floor, “Now please go.”
Markas sat down across from her, “Please, back at the Thirsty Scholar I offered you my help and my protection. I can’t help noticing that there’s been a change in you. If someone has hurt you, I am bound by duty to see that they are brought to justice.”
“No one has hurt me, but I may have hurt someone. Someone very dear to me,” Marta sobbed suddenly.
Markas reached over and patted her shoulder, “I can’t believe that you would hurt anyone—not intentionally.”
“Well,” Marta gasped between sobs, “It’s just…well you see, I’m betrothed to the mayor’s son, Henri. I love him so very much. We’ve put off the wedding for few years so I can properly enjoy my maidenhood.”
“That’s very kind of him,” Markas said.
“Yes,” Marta sobbed, “And I’m totally devoted to him. So, what I did…well, it’s inexcusable.”
“Marta, if Henri truly loves you as he seems to, I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”
“I’m sure he will, he’s so kind. But how can I forgive myself?”
“Well, what exactly happened?” Markas asked.
“When you all went to help Emily’s friend, I was a little scared. But Jonathan, he was so reassuring. He said that you all would take care of it and we could just relax. And it made me feel better. Then he said it’d be nice if we went and sat in the cool shade somewhere. And I didn’t see anything wrong with that. Then he asked if I minded if he put his arm around me and I agreed. And then he asked if he could kiss me and I said yes. And he kept asking things and I kept agreeing to them. I couldn’t say no. I don’t know why. And then he was finished and I was laying there and it was like I had woken up from some horrible nightmare. And…”
Marta looked down, huge fat tears rolling down her scarlet tinged face. Markas reached over and grabbed her shoulder gently.
“If he’s understanding enough not to tie you down with marriage at a young age, he’ll be understanding enough to forgive a…an indiscretion.”
“I still feel horrible,” Marta cried, “How could I be so weak, so stupid?”
“Well, it seems to me that maybe Jonathan has some quality that women find irresistible, though I couldn’t tell you what it is. It seems that he used this ‘natural charm’ of his to coerce you into doing something you might not have normally.”
“Re..really?”
“I’m not certain, but that’s my impression,” Markas said, “You mustn’t be too hard on yourself. Many young maidens have given into the…um…. ‘heat of the moment’ and they have gone on to have perfectly respectable lives.”
Marta reached over and grabbed Markas’s hand.
“Oh, thank you so much, Sir Markas, for your council in this. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for all that you and Miss Emily and Mister Ian have done.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Markas said, “We’re all happy to help you. Just promise me you won’t let yourself be alone with Jonathan again.”
“Oh, definitely. I promise.”
“Good. Now finish eating and get some sleep,” Markas said, getting up, “We’re going to leave early in the morning so we can make good time to your village.”
Markas stepped outside the hut and found Ian staring off into the distance, silently sipping on his flask.
“Where’s Jonathan?”
“Walked right past me and went into the hut,” Ian said, “I think he went to bed. Must be my lucky night. How’s Marta?”
“Better,” Markas said and then told Ian everything that Marta said to him.
“The fiend!” Ian exclaimed when Markas finished, “Well, that proves it then!”
“It doesn’t prove anything except that Jonathan’s a cad,” Markas sighed, “Marta said she agreed to what he was doing though it wasn’t something she would normally do. He lacks a certain moral character, but I don’t think we can count him as a criminal. To do so would condemn Marta as well.”
Ian swore, took a sip from his flask, and said, “Fine, we can’t throw him in prison but could we at least leave him behind?”
“No, I don’t think that’s advisable,” Markas said, “I think he’s better off with us were we can keep an eye on him. Besides, he does seem to be on our side at least. We don’t know what exactly we are walking into when we get to Marta’s village. Raiders and undead? Something about it all makes me very wary. The more in our number the better.”
“I guess,” Ian muttered.
“Well, it is getting late,” Markas said, looking up at the full moon, “We should all probably get to bed.”
“I’ll go to bed when I want to,” Ian replied coolly.
“Suit yourself,” Markas replied, “Just remember, we’ll be getting up early.”
“You kick me awake again and I’ll…”
“Well, get up and I won’t have too.”
“Fine,” Ian said, crossing his arms, “Shouldn’t you be getting to bed too?”
“I will,” Markas said, “I just need to check on one thing.”
Markas made his was across the temple grounds, stopping to ask a druid for directions. He found the stables with little problem. Of course stables was a relative word, as they seemed to be nothing more than a series of canvas stretched on tent poles. At the far end, well away from the horses, Kirin was nested in a pile of hay, gnawing on what looked like it might have been a goat at one point.
“Well, I see they’re at least feeding you well, girl,” Markas said as he sat down next her. He absently started to stroke the fur on her back, which caused her to purr a little bit.
“I’m not sure what I’ve got myself into,” Markas said, continuing to stroke her fur, “I mean it seemed simple enough when Emily asked me to help her. A village plagued by undead—it was something I could handle. A noble task, suitable for any knight and it hopefully won’t deter me too long from my trip to Argenault. But then Jonathan and Ian had to get mixed up in it too. I don’t know what to make of either of them.”
Kirin turned to look at him, something bloody and stringy hanging out of her beak.
“Part of me,” Markas continued, “Trusts Ian. I’m not sure why. Logic dictates that I shouldn’t. He’s a drunkard and rude. Not the type of man I’d typically associate with. Jonathan, on the other hand, seems like he’d fit in perfect at any court. He’s a little obnoxious to be sure, but at least he bothers to take time to make himself appear presentable. Still, I can’t trust him. Even before that business with Marta, there was something off-putting about him. I just wish I knew what to do.”
Kirin gulped the remainder of her food and nuzzled Markas with her beak. Markas reached up and scratched her golden feathers.
“I suppose for now,” he said, “I should just concentrate on helping Marta’s village. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can head for Argenault and Sir Tiberius”
*****
Ian took another sip from his flask, wondering idly where Markas had gone. He wasn’t too concerned. More it was really the only thing he could think on that wasn’t too upsetting.
As he took another sip, he saw Emily walking down the path. She looked very pale, and her eyes seem rather concentrated as if she were thinking very hard about something.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she came closer.
“Oh, what…oh, yes. I’m fine,” she said, forcing a smile, “Everyone else gone to bed?”
“Well, Marta and Jonathan are,” Ian said, “Markas wandered off somewhere, probably to go check on his bird.”
“You mean his gryphon?”
“Yes,” Ian said and took another sip. He looked at her. Despite her forced smile, she seemed rather scared.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ian said, “If somebody hurt you…if Jonathan…”
“Jonathan hasn’t done anything,” Emily said and sighed, “Are you two going to spend this entire trip accusing each other of imaginary crimes?”
“What he accuse me of?”
“Stealing your sword.”
“I give you my word, that I did not steal this sword,” Ian said. But then Ian thought, Didn’t you, in a way, steal it?
Ian took a rather large sip from his flask.
Emily smiled, “Well, then I’ll take your word for it.”
She went inside her hut and came back out with a large book.
“You don’t mind if I read out here, I don’t want to wake Marta?”
“No, you can do whatever you want.”
Emily sat down and reached into her pouch. She threw up a pinch of black powder and said “Lumé.” The powder stopped mid-air, swirled around and ignited into a bright glowing ball.
After a little bit, Ian found himself annoyed. It was very easy to sit by himself and do nothing, but with Emily sitting there reading, it just made him feel bored.
So, he finally asked, “What are you reading?”
“A History of Crolis,” she said.
“Ah, a little light before bedtime reading then,” Ian said.
“Not exactly,” she said, and then paused. She looked up and said, “Ian, do you believe in destiny?”
“What do you mean?”
“That you can have a future that’s already been determined. And that no matter what you do, it will happen.”
“No,” Ian said, “I think it’s our choices that determine our future.”
“That’s what I used to think too,” Emily said.
“Why did you change your mind?”
“Well, have you ever had a prophecy made about you?” Emily asked.
“No,” Ian replied, “You have?”
“Well, yes. And I keep telling myself that it doesn’t change anything. It’s very easy to believe it’s your choices determine your future when you have no idea what your future may be. But when someone tells you what your future will be, it feels, well it feels like all the choices have been taken away.”
“Emily, I don’t care what Silnas told you,” Ian said, “You shouldn’t let a prophecy run your life. After all, what does Silnas know?”
“It wasn’t Silnas that told me,” Emily said, “It was Oleria, the Seer of Sylva.”
“Who?”
“The Seer of Sylva. She’s the avatar for the goddess Sylva.”
“Avatar? You mean like the mouthpiece for a deity?”
“Exactly. So this prophecy didn’t come from some run of the mill fortuneteller. It came from a Seer, which is as good as it coming from a god directly.”
“Even the gods make mistakes,” Ian replied.
“You better not let Markas here you say that.”
“I suppose,” Ian said, “Still, how bad could this prophecy be?”
Emily didn’t say anything.
Ian suddenly felt very concerned; he wondered what could be that bad.
“Emily, what did your prophecy say?”
“Oh, nothing really,” she said, forcing a smile, “Uncle Ivan always said divination was such an imprecise art anyway. I probably should worry too much about it. Oh, look there’s Markas.”
“It’s getting late,” Markas said, yawning as he approached, “You should both really try and get some sleep.”
“You are absolutely right,” Emily said, jumping up and extinguishing her magic light, “I think I’ll go to bed right now. Good night.”
“Good night,” Ian and Markas said.
“What about you?” Markas said, turning to Ian, “Anyway I can convince you to try and avoid my boot in the morning?”
“I’ll get up, don’t worry about me.”
“All right then, night.”
“Night.”
Ian looked up into the night sky. It was full of stars. There was a branch of divination that used the stars to determine the future. He wondered if his future was up there, all mapped out. Could some diviner, some “Seer”, have seen his fate? Could he have prevented it, had he known? Could he have saved her?
Ian took a rather large drink from his flask.
“Wait here,” he said, “I’m going to get the others up so we can leave.”
As he made his way back to the huts, he saw Emily and Marta coming towards him.
“Good morning,” Emily called as they approached.
“Good morning,” Markas said, “Where are you two going?”
“To get a little breakfast before we go,” Emily said, “Care to join us?”
“No,” Markas said, “But you should grab some food for everyone and we can eat on the road. Are Jonathan and Ian up yet?”
“Yes,” Emily said, “I woke Ian up. He was rather cranky about it but he did get up. He’s back at the hut with Jonathan.”
“All right then,” Markas said, “You two get some food and meet us in front of the temple.”
“All right,” Emily said as she and Marta walked away.
Markas continued to walk towards the huts, relieved that he wouldn’t have to use physical force to wake Ian, when he heard Ian and Jonathan talking. Markas approached so as not to be seen. He saw Ian grab Jonathan by the collar.
“How dare you accuse me of stealing my sword!” Ian growled.
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Jonathan said.
“The truth? What would you know about the truth?” Ian said, “You’ve done nothing but lie to us since we met you.”
“Ah…” Jonathan said smiling, “I get it. You’re jealous.”
“Why in the world would I be jealous of a weak, pathetic schemer like you?”
“Because, unlike you,” Jonathan said, huge smile spreading across his face, “I don’t have to pay for my women.”
Ian threw Jonathan to ground, drew is sword, and pointed it at the bards chest.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t run you through right now.”
“I apologize,” Jonathan said, trying to back away from the point of Ian’s sword, “I’ve obviously touched a nerve. I never meant to offend…”
“You ‘offend’ just by existing,” Ian said, sheathing his sword, “You aren’t worth dirtying my sword.”
“Of course,” Jonathan said, standing up and dusting himself off, “Why don’t we put all this nonsense behind us. Start over on friendly terms.”
Jonathan held out his hand.
“I’m letting you live. But I will never be friendly with scum like you. And if you do anything to hurt those girls, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do.”
“The ladies are free to make their own choices. It’s not your business what they and I do,” Jonathan said, flippantly.
“They’re innocent,” Ian said, staring intently at Jonathan, “That should be protected, if nothing else.”
“Innocence can’t last forever,” Jonathan replied glibly.
Markas realized that if he didn’t stop them, it could get ugly again.
“Ahem,” he said, stepping forward, “It’s time to go. We are meeting the girls in front of the temple. They are getting breakfast for all of us to eat on the way.”
“Of course,” Ian said, glaring at Jonathan, “The sooner we leave the better.”
*****
The journey that day was quiet as neither Emily nor Marta seemed inclined to chat and giggle. The only one who was making any noise was Jonathan. His insistence on signing “to raise everyone’s moral” seemed to be having the exact opposite effect. Markas wondered how much more he could take and judging by the glare on Ian’s face, he was feeling the same way. Still, at least now, neither Marta nor Emily were blushing and giggling at everything that came out of Jonathan’s mouth. Marta seemed to walk as far away as she could from Jonathan, mostly keeping her gaze fixed to ground. Emily, while still walking next to him, seemed unaware of the world around her. Her expression was very blank, unreadable.
Markas finally pulled Ian aside.
“You don’t think that Jonathan, well, that he got to Emily?” Markas asked.
“No,” Ian said.
“Are you sure?” Markas said, “I mean there seems to be a marked difference between the way she is today and the way she was the past few days.”
“She told me what’s bothering her last night. It isn’t Jonathan.”
“So what is?” Markas asked
“Some crackpot at the temple told her future,” Ian said, rolling his eyes.
“A prophecy from the Seer?” Markas asked, “Did she tell you what it was?”
“No,” Ian said, “But it doesn’t really matter. It’s just some foolishness that someone made up.”
“Prophecies can be very serious,” Markas said.
“They cause nothing but trouble,” Ian said, “Some fool makes up some cryptic statement and then tells some other fool who spends all their time trying to figure out.”
“Well, whatever it is,” Markas said, “It seems to be affecting her.”
“Maybe it’s just Jonathan’s singing,” Ian said.
Markas smiled briefly, then remembered himself.
“Perhaps we should ask him to stop,” Markas said.
“If you think it will do any good,” Ian said.
“Jonathan,” Markas called out, “Jonathan!”
The bard lowered his mandolin and turned to look at Markas.
“Yes, Sir Markas?”
“Well, uh,“ Markas said, “I think it might prudent, well, if you stopped playing for awhile.”
“Whatever for?” Jonathan replied, airly, “Would you deny everyone the charms of my music?”
“Well…no,” Markas said, searching for a reason, “It’s just that…well, um, you remember what the town guard said in Carsonia. About the raiders attacking people along the road. And even Marta said they had been spotted around her village. We really don’t want to attract their attention.”
“Of course,” Jonathan said, letting go of his mandolin so that it would hang by his side, “I understand. Of course, it is a shame to deny you all of my abundant talent.”
“Well, maybe you can play for Marta’s village when we take care of their problems,” Emily said brightly.
“Ah, yes of course,” he said, smiling at Emily, “Dear Miss Emily, you do know how to lift a man’s spirits, don’t you?”
“I suppose,” Emily said, blushing slightly.
They continued on in silence. Markas’s head was a storm of thoughts: What was the prophecy that had been given to Emily? Should he trust Ian? Should he trust Jonathan? What was causing the problems in the Forest of Sanctuaries? Was it related to what had happened to Golden Gryphons? And he wasn’t any closet to figuring out who was behind it all. Hopefully, Sir Tiberius would have more answers.
“Stop,” Ian suddenly hissed, causing everyone to stop, “Listen!”
“What is it?” Emily whispered.
“Listen, up ahead,” Ian whispered, “Voices.”
Markas stopped and listen and sure enough he could hear voices coming from the trees up ahead, but they were too far away to make out what they were saying.
“Stay here,” Ian said, “I’m going to try and get closer to see if I can hear them better, maybe even see who they are.”
Markas watched as Ian crept up to the place the voices where coming from. Markas felt a little annoyed because he wasn’t used to taking orders from someone like Ian. Of course, Ian was probably the best choice to scout out the situation. Markas would have never been able to sneak up on them with his armor. And he wasn’t entirely sure that Jonathan could be quiet.
Ian crept back over to them and whispered, “Slave traders.”
“How do you know?” Markas asked.
“I’ve encountered them before—they’re part of a criminal cartel that operates out of Argenault. They all have similar tattoos,” Ian said, “Besides, the twenty or so gnomes locked in wicker cages was a pretty good tip off.”
“Gnomes?” Marta said, “There was gnome village just south of my own village. We were always so friendly with them. Oh, the poor little things!”
“How many are there?” Markas asked.
“Four,” Ian said, “They’re camped off to one side of the cage holding the gnomes. Emily, do you have some kind of spell that would cause a huge blast in the middle of them?”
“Yes,” Emily said, “I have just the thing.”
“Good. You cast that spell. Then Markas and I will charge in and engage them. Meanwhile, you and Jonathan lob as many spells and arrows as you can at them. Marta you stay by Emily and Jonathan.”
“Perhaps, Marta and I should stay back here,” Jonathan said, “You know, for her protection.”
“What’s the matter?” Ian asked, “You only have that bow for decoration?”
“I’ll have you know that I am an excellent marksman!” Jonathan replied.
“Keep your voice down. Fine, but I have yet to see you use that thing,” Ian said.
“Fine,” Jonathan replied, taking his bow from his back, “I will assist Miss Emily with a ranged assault.”
Markas took his axe of his back and turned to Kirin. “Stay here and fight off any that get too close to Emily and Marta.”
They moved as slowly and as quietly as they could, trying to get close enough for Emily to cast her spell. Markas became painfully aware of every clink his armor made. They got close enough to see the shadowy figures of the traders through the trees. They were laughing loudly, when they suddenly stopped.
“You hear something?” one of them said.
“Yeah,” the other said, “Better check it out.”
“Now Emily!” Ian hissed.
Emily took a handful of powder, threw it into the air, and cried, “Celerous!”
The traders’ small campfire exploded into a huge fiery ball, consuming two of the traders immediately.
Ian and Markas both rushed forward, Ian reaching his target first. Markas ran as fast he could in his armor to meet his opponent, who apparently, judging by his features, had some orcish blood in him. Markas managed to block the half-orc’s sword with his shield while landing a blow on the half-orc’s side, causing him to bleed profusely. A blast of energy from Emily buzzed past him and hit the half-orc in the shoulder.
“KRUG!” the orc bellowed.
Markas had only a moment to wonder what ‘krug’ meant, as a giant ogre came crashing through the woods. The distraction allowed the half-orc to hit Markas with his sword, knocking the wind out of him.
Markas looked up and was thankful to see that Ian’s opponent lying on the ground, several arrows sticking out of him. Ian was rushing to engage the ogre, as a barrage of fiery balls flew from Emily and stuck the creature. Markas returned his attention to the half-orc in time to block another blow with his shield. Another blow from his ax brought the half-orc to his knees. Suddenly, a scream caught his attention.
He turned to see that the ogre had knocked its way past Ian and had gone straight for Jonathan and Emily. Jonathan had jumped out of the way, but Emily hadn’t been fast enough. The ogre reached and knocked her with its large hand causing her to fly backwards.
Markas whistled and Kirin flew over to him. As quickly as he could, he mounted her and readied his lance. Ian had already run over to the ogre but his sword didn’t seem to even bother the ogres’s large mass of flesh. Kirin took the air and charged the ogre. Markas gored the ogre with his lance, causing it to howl.
Several blasts of energy hit the ogre. Markas looked over as he turned around for another charge. Emily was standing, barely, her arms posed if she were holding an imaginary bow. A silvery arrow appeared and flew right at the ogre. A volley of real arrows followed, Jonathan had apparently decided not to run away. Markas charged again and ogre finally crumpled on the end of his lance.
“Good, we beat it,” Emily said and then collapsed. Markas, Marta, and Ethan all ran over to her.
“Oh, Miss Rosewood!” Jonathan cried out, “Such a noble sacrifice!”
“Is she dead?” Marta cried.
“No,” Markas said, as he removed his gauntlets. He touched the holy symbol on his breastplate with one hand and Emily’s check with the other.
“Oh most sacred Torus,” he whispered, “I seek your aid.”
The symbol on his chest glowed very faintly. The glow traveled to his hand and then to Emily. She moaned and her eyes fluttered open.
“Are you all right?” Markas asked.
“Yes,” Emily said weakly, as she sat up.
“A miracle!” Jonathan cried, “Sir Markas has brought Miss Emily back from the dead!”
“She wasn’t dead,” Markas said as he put is gauntlets back on, “I just used some healing magic to revive her.”
“Still,” Jonathan continued, “Miraculous!”
“Not really,” Markas said, “The ability to cast minor healing spells is one of many things that separate a knight from a common swordsman.”
Speaking of swordsmen, Markas wondered what happened to Ian. He turned to see Ian had taken over his combat with the half-orc. He had to admit Ian was an excellent swordsman; the half-orc was definitely out matched. Even though he was quite certain Ian was drunk, he was incredibly skilled, his movement coming almost automatically. Ian probably could have been blindfolded and still have fought just as well.
“Please!” the half-orc cried, dropping to his knees and dropping his swords, “I surrender.”
But it didn’t look like Ian was listening. He started to bring his sword around to deliver the final blow.
“Stop!” Markas cried. He ran over and grabbed Ian’s arm.
“What are you doing!” Ian roared. “He’s evil. I’m ridding the world of him.”
“He surrendered,” Markas said, gripping Ian’s arms. “We have to accept his surrender.”
“But he’s a worthless, vile piece of filth. He trafficked in peoples lives. He needs to be punished!”
“He will be,” Markas said, “We’ll turn him into the local authorities.’
“And what? They’ll throw him in some jail. He deserves worse,” Ian said, but he stopped struggling with Markas.
Markas released his grip.
“Perhaps he does, but that’s not for us to decided,” Markas replied.
“Why couldn’t you be a knight of Tyrus? Then you could pass judgement on him,” Ian said, still gripping his sword.
“I’m sorry my choice of Orders isn’t to your liking, but there’s not much I can do. The law says I can’t, so we’ll just have to take him with us to Brue.”
“Fine,” Ian said, sheathing his sword, “Let’s hurry up and get to this village. We can turn him into the authorities there.”
“Actually, I think we may have to stop here and rest,” Markas said, “I’m not sure Emily will be up for traveling.”
“I’ll be fine,” Emily said as she tried to get up, but then collapsed back down.
“We’ll rest,” Ian said, bitterly, “We better tie him up. Marta, go and open those cages and let all those gnomes go.”
*****
Ian began digging through his bag to find some trail rations. Emily was asleep, exhausted from the battle with Kurg. Everyone else would have to fend for themselves for dinner. He felt a little guilty because he had been used to her cooking and was disappointed that she couldn’t cook tonight. Still, she needed to rest. That’s why they couldn’t press onto Brue Village which was why they were camped here, with the prisoner that they should have just executed in the first place.
Ian chewed on his hard tack. It was late now. He had agreed to take the first watch, everyone else was asleep. He really didn’t trust anyone else to do it. He didn’t trust Jonathan at all. He didn’t trust Markas not to mess it up. And Emily couldn’t.
He looked at the disgusting half-orc as it slept. How many lives had it ruined? And had it been punished, had justice been served? No, Ian thought bitterly, there was no justice in the world. Only fools like himself who still sought it.
He took a sip from his flask. It was getting a little low; he’d have to refill it in the next town. He took another small sip and put the flask back into his bag. He leaned back and looked over at Emily, sleeping. He wasn’t sure if she was a liability or not. She was definitely a talented scholar and her heart was in the right place, but she was rather weak and vulnerable too. That not only worried him because of battles like today, but because she was constantly around Jonathan. He didn’t care what Markas said, he knew what Jonathan had done to Marta and it was only a matter of time until Jonathan got to Emily too. There was no justice—not for Emily, not for Marta, not for Katrina.
Katrina.
He fingered the ring than hung on the chain around his neck and thought about its owner. He thought about the beautiful, vibrant woman who once wore it. She wore it because she loved him. And he loved her.
Here he was, three years later, and there was still no justice for either of them.
“No…please…No...what…I don’t…orb…NO!” Emily suddenly began to cry out in her sleep. She sat up, her pale skin dripping with sweat.
“Are you all right?” Ian asked.
“Huh…oh…yes,” Emily said, pushing her hair out of her face, “Just a bad dream.”
“Are you sure?” Ian asked moving over next to her, “You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” Emily said, “Still just a little week from all the spell casting I did.”
“And getting hit by an ogre,” Ian said.
“Not so much really,” Emily said, “Markas healed any injuries I had from that. But to cast a spell I have to expend a little of my own energy. Usually it’s such a small amount I don’t even notice. But today I cast so many spells, more than I’ve ever cast before. It took a lot out of me.”
“Oh, sorry,” Ian said, “You don’t have to expend yourself that way. You’ve got Markas and myself here to protect you.”
“That’s very kind,” Emily said, “But you shouldn’t have to protect me. I’m not your responsibility.”
“No, I guess not,” Ian said, “But it doesn’t mean I won’t try to protect you anyway. Besides, if we are going to help Marta, we have to work together. If you’re weak, it weakens us as a group.”
“I hadn’t really looked at it that way,” Emily said, looking down at her knees, “I’m sorry if I slowed things down. I’ve never done combat casting before; I guess I have to learn a lot still.”
“Don’t worry. You fought very well today. We wouldn’t have beaten that ogre without you.”
“I guess. But I’ve slowed us down. If it weren’t for me, we would have reached Marta’s village tonight and you could have turned that slave trader into the authorities.”
Ian glanced over at the half-orc and felt himself getting angry again.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, clenching his fists, “If we had done things my way, we just would have executed him and been on our way.”
“But he did surrender.”
“That’s because he’s a coward. He doesn’t want to pay the penalty for what he’s done. They never do. And the rest of the world let’s them get away with it.”
“Ian, I’m…I…”
“I’m sorry,” Ian said, as he looked at the scared expression on Emily’s face, “I’m…don’t listen to me. I’m not important. Just a sword-for-hire. It doesn’t matter when we get him to town. Today, tomorrow, he’ll have to pay for his crimes eventually.”
“You shouldn’t…”
But Emily was interrupted by tinkling, soothing music.
“What’s that?” Ian said, hand moving to his sword.
Emily listened intently for a second then covered her mouth.
“Oh no! Pixies!”
Ian laughed. “Pixies? Well, then nothing to worry about.”
“Oh no, you don’t understand. Pixies can be very dangerous.”
“Pixies? Should we run and hide?” Ian said, laughing.
“Please…just because something isn’t ugly and growling and out to kill you doesn’t automatically make it harmless. Pixies don’t look threatening but they have powerful magic.”
The music grew louder. Ian looked at Emily who had a dead serious look on her face.
“Do you want me to wake everyone else?” Ian asked.
“No,” Emily said, “Hopefully they’ll leave them alone. In fact maybe we should try and pretend to sleep.”
“Hehehe,” a tiny voice rang out, “Why would you want to do that silly mortal girl?”
“Too late,” Emily whispered. The clearing suddenly filled with two dozen or so tiny little people with wings. They were no bigger than Ian’s index finger with clear, sparkly wings and each glowed a slivery blue. They were all completely naked, but Ian didn’t find it disturbing because they’re tiny little bodies were like the nudes often found in classical paintings—perfect conceptions of what a body should look like. They all had flowing, long white-blond hair. In fact it seemed the only way to tell the females from the males was that the females each had a set of perfectly round breasts.
Their glittering laughter seemed to be in tune with the ethereal music that followed them. They flew about the clearing, dancing with the music. How could Emily be afraid of something so sweet and so beautiful?
He looked over at her and her fear seemed to be gone and she was just as delighted with the show the pixies were putting on. She even giggled when one landed on her lap.
“Hello,” it said in a high-pitched perky voice, “What are you mortals doing out here?”
“We’re travelers. We are resting her for the night,” Emily replied softly.
“Oooh, we love travelers! They’re so much fun,” the pixies squealed.
The pixie that had landed on Emily’s lap sat down, legs crossed and said, “I like you. You feel sweet. Most people don’t feel sweet. They feel warm or smart or good or yucky. But not very often do you find someone who feels sweet.”
“Well, thank you,” Emily replied.
“Oh, but this one feels yucky!” another pixies yelled, jumping up and down on top of the half-orc, “Very, very yucky!”
“Oh yes,” another agreed, “Very yucky!”
“Well, we can fix that,” another giggled.
The pixies began to circle around the half-orc, sprinkling him with glittery dust. Slowly, he sat up, a completely blank expression on his face.
“What are they doing?” Ian whispered.
“They’ve erased his memory,” Emily said, “They’re going to turn him into pixie kin.”
“What?” Ian said angrily, as he started to get up but he felt Emily grab his sleeve and yank him back down.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“But he’s our prisoner. He needs to be taken to town so justice can be served.”
“Justice has been served,” Emily said, looking at him severely, “Pixies can sense the darkness in a mortal’s soul. If it is too much, they erase it but they erase everything else too, leaving a blank soul, a pixie kin.”
Just then the half-orc stood up. He started to clumsily skip after a group of pixies as they led him off into the woods.
“No!” Ian cried out.
“Oh, that’s right,” a pixies said, flitting about, “I guess we have to check the rest of you.”
“I feel a lot of sadness,” one said, leaning its head to one side, “Even the sweet one is a little sad.”
“I sense another yuckiness somewhere,” another pixies cried out, “Oh, we must get rid of it too!”
“Please, no!” Emily cried out, “These are all my friends. Please leave them with me.”
“Aw, she’s so sweet,” the first pixie said, “Let’s do as she says.”
“Yes! Let’s do as the sweet girl wishses!” another yelled out.
“But..but…yuckiness…” the one stammered.
“But we can’t tell where that yuckiness is coming from,” another said, “It might be something else nearby.”
“Very well,” the one pixie said, “Let’s go.”
The pixies flew off in a cloud of sparkly dust. Ian was still clenching his fists.
“How could you let them go?” Ian yelled. Emily jumped up and covered Ian’s mouth with her hand.
“Shh, they might here you,” she whispered, “You’re lucky you didn’t end up going with them.”
Ian pulled away, “The half-orc is the lucky one. He just got completely away. He’ll never have to pay for his crimes.”
“He’s paying,” Emily said gravely, “Didn’t you see what they did to him?”
“I saw him skip off without a care in the world.”
“That’s right. He didn’t have a care because he didn’t have anything—the pixies erased it all, he’s just a blank slate.”
“A pixie kin,” Ian snorted.
“Look, no one is sure what exactly happens when pixies go off with a pixie kin, but there have been cases where the corpses of people who were made into pixie kin were found later. Most believe that the pixies run their bodies into the ground. Pixies need neither sleep nor food, so they never think that those they turn into pixie kin need it either. The half-orc is as good as dead.”
“If you say so,” Ian said as he sat back down. He pulled out his flask and looked over at Emily. She still looked very pale.
“You should get some sleep,” he said and then took sip.
“Fine,” Emily said, “But just so you know, we’re all very lucky we didn’t end up like the half-orc.”
Emily rolled over huffily, but she quickly fell back asleep.
Ian watched her as chest rose and fell with her soft breaths. If Emily was right, then he really had no reason to be upset. After all, he had wanted to execute the half-orc, so he shouldn’t be upset that the pixies had essentially done it for him. He shook the flask in his hand. He’d have to fill it tomorrow; it was maybe a quarter full at best.
I’m not upset that the pixies took the half-orc, he thought, I’m upset because having all your memories and feelings erased doesn’t sound horrible at all.
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