Horizons of the Heart

By Melange
Copyright © 2013 Melange
All Rights Reserved.

Synopsis

As the intrepid adventurers struggle to make sense of their contact's cryptic message, the death cult close in on them. They might not be as safe as they thought they were.
Kellen has a plan on how to make finding them more difficult.

Flashback: Mirena was born and raised in the golden city, and struggles with certain expectations.

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Chapter 5: Lying Flowers

MIRENA

The music changed its pace once more, and the dancers took their positions. Two rows of finely clad members of the social elite filled the open floor in the middle of the great hall, and on the starting note they approached one another with measured steps. The men took the hands of the women, and led them in a circular dance in harmony with the tune. From the sides, the older nobles and people otherwise occupied watched the dance progress through each carefully planned phase.

As the musicians put their instruments away, applause filled the ballroom. The men escorted their partners back to the waiting families and exchanged some pleasantries, before returning to their own.

She curtsied as her dance partner walked away, her fine silk gown brushing the polished marble tiles of the floor. It was newly made of course; nothing else would do for a gathering such as this one. They had visited their favourite tailor only yesterday for the final fitting. He had done a marvellous job, as usual. The gown flattered her form, a little too well in places, and the deep verdant green brought out her eyes. She didn’t have the heart to tell the tailor that she really preferred blue, though.

“Well, daughter, that one seemed a perfect match, don’t you agree?” The older man, her father, was also dressed in his best. Because of generations of success, their merchant house could afford the finest the city had to offer. He stood tall and strong for his age, though grey streaked the sides of his chestnut brown hair.

“Father, I don’t see the point in this. You know I’ll be ordained to the temple knights come winter.” Mirena kept from wrinkling her gown. Her argument was with her father, not the poor cloth.

“Nonsense, sweetheart. We’ve indulged this… chapter of your life long enough. That man is the son of the Baron of Risan. Firstborn, no less! You would do very well indeed with him.” Her father looked very pleased with himself. “I have already spoken with the Baron, and he is quite willing to join our houses together. That would give us a second port city to expand to!”

“Father! I am sworn to the temple. I will not betray that oath, and I will most certainly not give up an opportunity to become a knight of Telum because you want to marry me off to some… some Olman fishing town!”

“That’s enough, Mirena! You will do your duty to your family, and that’s all there is to it.” Her father grabbed her arm, hard, and turned her toward a group of people across the dance floor.

An olive skinned noble in the scarlet colours of Olmar raised his glass toward her father and nodded. Next to him stood her dance partner, excitedly talking with a woman Mirena presumed to be his mother or aunt.

Her father leaned down closer to her ear and whispered harshly.

“Now, you will dance with young Garrad, and you will be on your very best behaviour.”

Mirena felt trapped. Her chest hurt from bottling up all her feelings. She had found a place where she felt she truly belonged, in the temple of Telum. She had worked twice as hard as any other squire to prove that she was more than just a rich child whose parents bought her way into the Order. She had earned her place among the ones selected for knighthood. She also loved her family, despite their shortcomings. Regardless of their values, she knew that they had the potential to be a force for good. Could she give up her own dreams and settle for the life of a nobleman’s wife, hoping to affect these changes from within? Could she make that sacrifice?

Despite her best efforts, her hands crumpled the delicate fabric of the gown as she fought against herself.

Just a trickle was enough. As the magic flowed through the cloth, it shimmered softly and the colours began to waver. The name “mirage veil” felt very appropriate, even if different veils in fact did very different things. They could cloak the wearer and hide them from sight entirely, or blend into the surroundings. Most items weren’t even proper veils at all, but they all had to cover part of the user to function.

The shimmer enveloped Jaden as he tried to visualise himself. Not that… person who stared back at him though the mirror, but his real self. The one he still saw in his dreams. Aside from the tingling as the magical veil settled around him, he couldn’t feel any changes. After all, it was only an illusion; but under the circumstances it was the best he could hope for.

Jaden left the relative privacy of the market latrine, and stepped back outside in the fresh and spicy air. None of the people passing by gave him a second glance. He adjusted the nymph kerchief around his head slightly. To a casual observer, it would look like a nice, but normal, hat. As an added bonus, it covered his ears.

After making sure everything was in order, Jaden began to push his way through the busy dirt streets lined with tents, stands, and loud voices. In his belt was the replacement sword he had picked up just a few stands down from Zajid’s tent. It was a very nondescript blade, and in that way it was ironically a lot like his old one. He had kept his scabbard, and the sword fitted more or less. Just like him and his clothes, he supposed.

He made a note of being more careful about touching people in the future. The illusion showed him as his normal self, who was slightly bulkier than the truth. If someone paid any attention when they hugged him, they would notice the discrepancy.

“Ah, there you are, little brother!” A booming voice announced the return of Stann. He was carrying a bundle of flowers, for some reason.

“Ready to head back, Bear?” Jaden wasn’t the only one with a nickname. Stann had tattooed his to his arm, shown proudly in his early summer outfit. The Northman had arms as thick as Jaden’s legs.

“Aye, all done here — unless, that is, you changed your mind about an ale at the Moon and Keg?” Stann tried to sound casual, but couldn’t help grinning towards the end.

“I’m not helping you with picking up any more elven girls. My shin still hurt sometimes,” Jaden recalled a particularly ill-fated encounter.

They strolled back toward the Tradegate and the long Inland Street. They would be back in time for lunch, and let Rhyce get some rest. The man had probably been up all night. Jaden sometimes wondered what drove the archer so hard.

“You looked a bit frail this morning, Jay, but a walk in the sun did you good. Say, is that a new hat?”

The men didn’t look out of place in this part of the city. Simple craftsmen heading toward someone’s home to help with repairs, perhaps, or on their way to a guild meeting. An older man walked in their midst, his fingers touching a small metal wire, or a thick needle. Every so often, they stopped at an intersection and appeared to be having a conversation about the weather. After a while, the older man had picked out a new direction, and they continued to walk.

On a nearby rooftop a single crow tilted its head, following them with a black eye. As they disappeared down the street, it took to the air and circled the neighbourhood before heading off.

A second crow joined it in flight, and together they floated on the warm updraft from the chimneys for a while, before swooping down toward an enclosed area behind several large buildings. They landed on the branches of a lonely tree that was just now starting to bloom. One of them cawed, flapping its wings.

Rhyce stepped out from under the roof of the porch and watched the birds.

“They’re getting closer,” he murmured to himself. Fatigue was starting to become an issue, but he knew from experience he would still be reliable for almost another day. They would be here before then, and he would be waiting.

“When did you see them?” Mirena tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. After breakfast, she had borrowed Kellen’s bed to grab an hour’s rest or so. Next to her on the table they shared was a beautiful bouquet of red mariganas. One of the maids had found a small vase to put them in.

“I became aware of them just a short while before Stann and Jaden returned,” Rhyce nodded toward the other two. “I’m sure they are able to follow us somehow.”

“That’s bad,” Stann grumbled. “It looks like we have no choice but to move. We can’t fight them in here. Darim and the girls would get slaughtered.”

The innkeeper looked up from the shelves at the mention of his name. The group smiled and waved at him, which he returned with a curious expression. They were too far away to overhear unless they spoke loudly, in their private corner of the common room.

“Agreed. Making our stand here is not an option.” Mirena set her jaw. “We might have to risk moving Oleander sooner than I’d like. Speaking of which, Stann?”

“Yes?” The warrior looked up from his tankard. He was very used to indoor brawling, and knew how easy it was for innocents to get caught in the fray.

“Did you meet up with our contact?”

“Oh, I did. Not sure what to make of it, though.” He eyed the mariganas. “She said we were welcome to the flower… castle?”

“Flower castle?” Jaden sounded confused. “What does that even mean”?

“Your guess is as good as mine, little brother.” Stann did not enjoy riddles. He was a straightforward, honest man. He would fight by your side, match you drink for drink, but if you asked him to solve a puzzle he was more than likely to break it trying.

Mirena and Rhyce shared a thoughtful look across the table.

“The closest castles are in Radent to the south or Farcrest to the north. We’re too far from the northern Alband border to warrant any fortifications — no insult intended, Stann.” In previous generations, the Northern clans had been very aggressive in their expansions down into Alband. The kingdom had raised several keeps along their northern border to fend off the attackers during that period.

“None taken, milady. My ancestors were quite honoured by that, in fact.” The Northmen appreciated a good fight.

Something with the name tickled a memory in Jaden. He frowned as he tried to catch that fleeting thought. Suddenly both he and Mirena looked at each other.

“Rosehaven!” They exclaimed at the same time.

“Doesn’t Rosehaven have a temple dedicated to Kuros, as well?” Jaden asked, almost certain of it. He remembered reading about the expansions of the temples during the imperial era.

“Yes! It was founded by King Ambermane’s great, great grandfather, the duke of Farcrest during the imperial rule, as a sign of good faith toward the emperor.” Mirena knew her military history and the noble houses.

“That’s not far off,” Rhyce added. “A few days by horse, just up the coast.”

“But will Red be well enough to ride?” Stann wondered.

Was it raining? Her face felt wet, and it was almost too dark to see. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Okay, Ollie. Let me take the watch." A gloved hand patted her shoulder. She looked up and saw those pointy ears barely hidden by long black hair.

"I... I think I dozed off. I had a dream."

"Go get some beauty sleep - you need it." Jay teased her, and pointed towards her bedroll.

"Shut up, Elfboy." She shoved him playfully, and got up.

He just grinned, and took her spot by the fire.

As she was lying down to go back to sleep, she felt that something was wrong. She looked up at her friend, who hadn't noticed the same thing.

“Hey, Jay? Where's Rhyce?" Maybe the archer was answering the call of nature?

"Who?" He turned around and looked at her strangely.

Oleander blinked, and felt something clench her heart.

"Rhyce. You know, mister grimdark arrowshooter?"

"Not sure what you're on about, Ollie, but you clearly need that sleep more than I thought you did."

She looked around the camp. The two huge blonde men were impossible to miss, one of them snoring. Next to them, between Jay's and her beds, was Mirena. The pieces of her armour were covered by another blanket to keep dewdrops away. No archer. No Rhyce.

"Wake up. Wake up! They found us!" A firm hand shook her. Had she fallen asleep again?

She looked around, and saw that the others were already on their feet. Mirena in her nightgown and unbound hair had a sword ready. Jay stood by the edge of the firelight, pointing into the darkness. Knives of ice were already hovering around him defensively.

Before she could say anything, Stann hoisted her to her feet, and pushed the bag into her hands.

"If we need to run, it's better if you take this."

"Is this the thing?"

"Yes. You'll know what to do." He sounded more sure than she felt.

"They're coming!" Jay backed away from the darkness, and brought up a hand to throw frozen magic into the night. Before he had a chance to attack whatever he had seen, several black bolts escaped from the darkness. The icy knives blocked a couple, but two struck him in his chest and pierced his heart. He fell to the ground before she even had a chance to scream.

"Villains! You will not win this day!" Mirena brought her sword up, ready to attack as soon as their enemies emerged from the shadows.

Oleander couldn't tear her eyes from where Jay had fallen. It felt horrible and familiar at the same time.

"Rus og bol!" Glory and blood. The cousins roared and charged toward where Jay had pointed. Sword drawn and runes shining.

She clutched the bag closer to her chest, and moved up next to Mirena. The knight had tried to stop the Northmen, but to no avail. Now she had a grim expression.

"Oleander? I want you to run. The path behind us is safe."

"The path? It's so dark, Rena. I can't see anything."

"It's there. Just trust me. The path will lead you to safety." When had she donned her armour? Mirena turned back to guard against the darkness, her braid swinging slightly.

"I... alright. You know I trust you." Oleander hugged the bag and tried to see the path.

"You need to go, now!" Mirena raised her shield, as the darkness roiled and seemed to try to swallow them both. The light from the fire made just a tiny circle, barely big enough for both of them.

Oleander trusted her heart, and ran. She kept running, even as she heard Mirenas scream suddenly being cut off. Her face felt wet again.

Jaden looked around the backyard a second time, before waving the others on. The two large Northmen trundled out, carrying their small, redheaded burden between them. Mirena had stopped the innkeeper in the corridor, and was telling him that everything was in order and that there was no cause for alarm.

They gently laid Oleander down on the grass and stepped back. Mirena joined them, carrying a tankard that Kellen gratefully accepted. He would make do with beer, when there was no rest to be had.

“So, how will this work, cousin?” Stann gestured at the comatose woman. On top of her lied a small bag that contained the source of their troubles.

“It pretty much follows the principle of ‘walking a mile in someone’s boots’. I will create a rune that will cause our hunters some confusion.” Kellen handed the empty tankard to Jaden, who looked a bit annoyed with acting as a maid.

“What do we need to do?” Stann wanted to help, but surrounded by the groups magicians he felt a little left out.

“Well, just shove her bare foot into the soil, nice and deep.” Kellen had begun to sort through his many pouches, selecting a number of inscribed stones.

They helped to manoeuvre their unconscious friend to the edge of the porch. One of her legs slipped over the side, causing her sleeping tunic to scoot up to her thigh. Mirena took the foot and pushed it down into the grass and earth as firmly as she dared.

“That’s good. Now, stand back.” Kellen held a runestone in each hand. There was a slight tremor, and the soil beneath the footprint released two clumps of clay.

The rune seeker walked around the floating bits of dirt, shaping them into vague cubes. With the rune in his other hand, marks began to take form on each side of the cubes. Finally, they visibly hardened and took on a burnt finish.

“I’ve not had a reason to make drawstones for, well, for a long time. I can’t say how long they will remain potent, but for the next few days there will be three Oleanders as far as the Sons are concerned.”

“Thank the Stormfather that’s not true,” chuckled Stann. One Oleander was quite enough for the world to handle.

“So the idea is to split up, again. Kellen, I assume you will be taking care of Oleander?” Mirena began to lay out the plan. With the knight, there would always be plans.

“Aye, I’ll need to maintain the safeguards on her, as well as the drawstone enchantment.”

“Won’t they be able to just, I don’t know, track the skull instead?” Jaden raised an important point.

“Unlikely. The curse has muddled their auras together, and the drawstones should mirror both of them.” Kellen gestures vaguely above the girl and the bag.

“Will the… the drawstones require magic from the carrier?” Mirena leaned in a little to inspect the crude clay dice.

“Not as such, no, but a presence of magic or a blood familiarity will make it easier for me to project the enchantment from a distance,” Kellen coughed a little, and looked around for more beer. Jaden shrugged at the empty tankard, earning a slight scowl in return.

“But you might want to, ah, not handle it, Mirena,” Jaden stopped her from touching it.

“What? Why is that?”

“From what I can tell by the spells on them, this is technically Deception magic. You being a priest of Telum…” Jaden trailed off, letting the knight fill in the blanks.

“Any magic of mine would likely destroy Kellens enchantment. Telum abhors falsehoods.” She sighed. “Well, it’s good that both you and Stann should be able to carry them safely.”

“It might be a good idea to separate you two, as well,” Jaden pointed at Stann and Mirena. “You were right up there, hacking Sons to bits side by side. You’d be very recognisable together.”

“Good point. That leaves me with Rhyce, and Mirena with you, little brother.”

“Not to mention that I probably know the streets of Tier better than any of you, with Rhyce as a close second. Having us in separate groups only make sense.” Mirena was born and raised in the golden city.

Rhyce walked around the corner of the Green Raven inn with his pack on a shoulder. A pair of black birds flew past him up into the sky.

“We’re out of time. I just saw them a couple of streets away from here.”

Stann swore and ran inside. They could hear him crash up the stairs, and the alarmed voices of the innkeeper and the maids.

“It should be safe enough to just tie her to a saddle,” Kellen speculated, as their eyes were drawn to the girl at their feet.

“Catch!” Stann’s voice from above them was shortly followed by him throwing down their packs.

“Stann! Don’t you dare toss my dresses that way-“ Mirena trailed off in a sad wail as an armful of colourful gowns sailed down. She did her best to catch them before they fell to the dirty ground. Whenever they settled at an inn long enough, she enjoyed unpacking her clothes to let them air, and to ease the wrinkles out.

“I’ll get the horses,” mumbled Rhyce, already heading toward the stables.

Together they managed to get Oleander into her saddle, and secured her with a length of rope. Kellen prodded her experimentally, before nodding in satisfaction. She’d stay put for now.

“Stann, Rhyce? You’ll take the southern gate, and catch up with us as soon as you can,” Mirena finished stuffing her clothes back into her pack as she explained the plan. “Kellen and Oleander will head toward the Tradegate. It’s the easiest way out of Tier, though not the shortest. Jaden and I will head north.”

They sat up in their saddles, the two carrying the drawstones making sure they had them close at hand.

“Our destination is Rosehaven. If we won’t meet on the road, we’ll regroup there.” She turned her horse around. “Now, Telum be with you!”

The first lesson any veteran explorer will tell you about the adventuring life: never split the group.