Horizons of the Heart

By Melange
Copyright© 2013-2014 Melange
All Rights Reserved.

Synopsis

Concluding the six chapter Etrana arc, Jaden finally returns to the palace to deliver the shocking news about who was working the strings behind the plot against the eternal throne of the grand herself. Only by trusting in her friends, and calling upon a favour of an unlikely ally can she hope to finally put an end to the rising threat before it consumes them all.

Flashback: Before he was the living legend he is today, he was just a humble man who braved the roads armed with little but his own magnificence.

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Chapter 41: Full Cups for April's Fools!

((2014-04-02 NOTICE: This story was an April's Fools joke. It was just meant as something funny, and not to be taken as canon or part of the continuity. Except two things, but those are for you to find! :D ))

ZAJID

The goats made more noise than when his body crashed through the roof of the pen. Zajid plucked straw out of his mouth while he got his bearings. One quick look up through the magnificent, man-shaped hole in the roof caught him a glimpse of the man who had hurriedly shoved him out the window. He could hear the faint voices of an escalating argument coming from that bedroom window. Alas, such was the plight of Zajid, to be loved and left to the winds and the road (sometimes through a window). He pushed himself out of the bale of hay that had broken his fall, giving a theatrical bow to the goats that had stopped chewing their supper to stare at the sudden guest.

“And with that, this humble merchant of perfumes and passion will take his leave.” Zajid took a final bow to his caprine audience and strolled out of the pen, only pausing briefly to shake some lingering sawdust and hay off his robes.

It was an exciting life, that of a wandering purveyor of various odds and ends. Only the gods knew where fate would bring him next, and what wonderful sights and people awaited him there. Maybe he should brave the long coastal road, with his donkey and cart, bringing the wonders of Etrana to the free city of Tier? Or maybe, should he follow the mysterious and puzzling dream that kept haunting him, and seek those fabled monasteries hidden in the depths of the Sorun wildlands? Perhaps they would even let him see the blind monks, or pet the panthers? Ah, but the life of a roaming trader was truly without bounds.

Now, if he had only been able to bring his trousers, he would be ready to brave the wonders of the world.

When he finally returned to his simple tent where he had set up camp for the evening, his faithful donkey came ambling forward with its ears perked up.

“The Grand’s blessing upon you, Tanaq, my trusted companion! Zajid is filled with remorse, but there are no more carrots for you to feast upon.” The merchant joined the animal in a sigh. “But, Zajid is positive and sure that the next town will see us swimming in those orange roots. Of course, he is not lying!”

The donkey gave Zajid a sceptical snort, and looked away.

“Surely, there may have been great promises previously made and yet not fulfilled, but such is our lot in life. Give Zajid your trust, faithful Tanaq. Fortune cannot elude the two of us forever!” The Etrian merchant beamed with unconquerable optimism at the animal, who against its better judgement allowed itself to buy into the dream once again.

Together the two packed up the camp and got ready for the next journey. Granted, Zajid did most of the packing on account of opposable thumbs, but Tanaq did its donkey best to help. There were carrots promised, after all.

The receiving hall of the grand was as, well, grand as the last time Jaden had been there when first accepting the assignment. A hall fit for an empress, where no gilding had been spared, and no foot of marble walls were left unadorned by the rich, purple velvet drapes; which was a bit of a pity in the mystic’s opinion, since the marble was really striking with the almost golden veins through the jet-black stone.

As she passed the announcer, the strict-looking courtier slammed the staff of office into the marble floors with just enough force to wake slumbering, middle-aged royalty. Since custom encouraged it, he also yelled who was approaching the imperial throne.

“Basking in the presence of the luminous one, the hand that waters the rose of the desert, the heart of the jewel of the empire, the eternal splendour of Grand Sartekh VI, here stands Jaden Tarasov of the Twin Horizons, wielder of the mirror sword and bane of the sideways men of Tanglehome.” The announcer’s voice became strained towards the end, attempting to yell everything with a single breath, but to his credit the wavering at the end was hardly noticeable. It almost put a touch of reverence to the words.

“You may approach,” called the woman seated on the eternal throne, waving a hand covered with rings at her visitor. While the grand herself didn’t actively encourage such ceremony, the people of her domain expected it. Once the black-haired mystic was close enough for them to speak without raising their voices unduly, the grand continued. “What news bring you, my champion?”

“I can but confirm our initial suspicions about the culprit behind the many maladies that plagued Etria, my grand. If that was not enough, I myself faced the villain in combat once I levelled the accusation to his face.” Jaden stood with her feet apart and her hands clasped behind her back.

“How unlikely, yet still expected! Who could have foreseen that the mastermind behind it all could have been none other than-“ The grand was interrupted by a gust of wind as the high windows above the hall swung open. The smell of sunbaked tiles, freshly cut grass and ham reached both of them.

Borne upon the very winds was Rhyce, astride their flying carpet. How he managed to keep his balance while standing on it was beyond Jaden. That thing was not as smooth a ride as some might expect.

“We have little time!” Shouted the archer from his vantage high above. “The bonds did not hold him, and when I lost sight of him he was already by the palace gates!”

“That’s impossible! We used over a mile of the enchanted ribbons!” Jaden protested, making a cutting gesture with her hand in the air.

Before either of them could get another word in, the doors to the receiving hall was kicked open with enough force to wake even a deeply asleep middle-aged monarch. The announcer scrambled to his feet, awkwardly retrieving his staff of office which had been knocked from his hands.

“Basking in the preeeeURRK!” The announcer’s voice broke off with a croak as the meaty hand completely encircled his thin neck.

With shoulders heaving with laboured breathing, body steaming with exertion of dragging the sticky red ribbons and the numerous pots and pans, bits of fence, cobblestones and the occasional struggling gnome that had attached to them, hulked the battlechef of the pastry guild. His hat sat askew, his brows were drawn down in culinary rage, and his white coat was missing a button. His face looked like vengeance.

“Round two, buttercup!” The battlechef roared, bringing his free arm around enough to make a rude gesture.

The grand turned to Jaden with a resolute expression.

“This is not a fight you can win like this. You need to gather your allies.” The grand stood up and shed her heavy mantle with its many gold ornaments with the sound of someone dropping an armful of cutlery. “I will occupy our guest while you do so.”

“How will you fight that which my friend and I cannot, my grand?” Jaden said with incredulity.

“The same way I face all obstacles in Etria’s glorious path, my raven champion: diplomacy!” The grand pushed her sleeves up and struck a political stance.

Rhyce floated down enough so that he could reach out for the mystic with a hand. With a strong pull, he drew his friend into his arms and made the flying carpet carry them out of the marble halls and into the Etrian sunset.

“Will it be safe leaving the grand with the battlechef?” Jaden asked the archer as they zipped over the rooftops of Etrana, the jewel of the empire. She had to crane her neck a bit to look at him since she was sitting down.

“Don’t underestimate the woman, Jaden. She has held her own against many foes throughout her days. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a hidden trick or two up her sleeves.” Rhyce balanced standing casually on the flying carpet with his arms crossed.

“She pushed her sleeves up, Rhyce. There was nothing hidden there!”

“I was speaking figuratively.” The archer stared straight ahead.

“Oh. I sometimes don’t catch those things,” Jaden confessed, scratching at her neck a bit.

“That’s because you’re stupid.”

“I know. People keep telling me that.” The mystic tucked her skirt in under her legs, picking away at some lint.

“So, where do we go first?” The archer asked the question both of them had been thinking about from the moment they had left the palace.

Jaden considered. Normally she would go to Oleander right away, especially when kingdoms were threatened and the balance of the civilised world was at stake. Though, ever since the redhead had taken to running her fleet of privateer ships out of their hidden island base in the Kalhata Reefs with her husband Arim Tassard as her second-in-command, she had been harder to get a hold of for these emergencies.

“What about Mirena? We could use a paladin against the battlechef, for sure!” She snapped her finger at the obvious solution.

“Since you spent most of the summer in the Myriad Nether negotiating the treaty with Lord Sabakus, the Destroyer of Flesh, you probably didn’t hear?” Rhyce glanced down with a mixed expression. Jaden was fairly sure it wasn’t because she hadn’t invited him along for the trip. Nobody liked going to the Myriad Nether.

“Hear what?”

“Mirena didn’t handle how Oleander stole her fiancée away very well. She left the Five Temples and abandoned her calling. Last I heard of her, she had opened up a dance school in Tier. Apparently the Just Us Dancers school of choreography and ceremony is doing quite well, and is considered a prestigious place for young debutantes to attend.” Rhyce shrugged a little.

“Drat… But that must mean that Alisan’s probably given birth to her and Kellen’s second child by now, right?” Jaden brightened at the thought of seeing her song-sister again, and perhaps her nephew. Kellen would also be of great help in combating the threat. Ever since he discovered how to make islands float there had seemed to be no end to the other miracles he kept pulling out of his bag of tricks.

“Unfortunate timing, but they’re currently in labour. Kellen’s unlikely to leave her side.” As expected of Rhyce, he kept a close tab on their friends.

“Not after the tongue-lashing she gave him the first time, no.” The black-haired mystic shuddered.

“He still can’t look at sponges without crying,” the boarderlander agreed with a sagely nod.

“She can be a harsh woman sometimes, our Lemon can.”

The flying carpet flew quickly, leaving the metropolis behind as the sun dipped below the horizon and allowing the stars to shine. Fields and then steppes rushed past far below. As quick as it was, it would not be able to carry them to Telasero in Kasmantur in time to bring Stann back to Etrana in time to help with the fight. Ever since the winter warrior had accepted the position as an honorary member of House Danard, the politics of the city had kept him busier than his quest to find the ember star ever did. Who could have known that his truly inspired rendition of the popular ballad, “He who followed the petal path”, would have gained him enough votes on the council of princes? How it had launched his rapid advancing and finally the promotion to the position of diplomat to Sorun, was something Jaden still scratched her head about at times.

As they crossed the Chadar river like a moonlight shadow, they realised that they had entered Olmar. Jaden and Rhyce exchanged a long look. They knew someone in Olmar, but it would require them to visit the farm.

“There is nobody else we can reach on short notice, Rhyce.”

“It’s your choice. You’re the champion,” the archer reminded her.

“Okay. Alright. Let’s go.” Jaden took a bracing breath and mentally prepared herself.

The archer ran a hand across the fringe of the flying carpet, and it angled slightly. The ground crept closer and the sense of speed intensified as they zipped across the landscape. It really wasn’t that far away.

The flying carpet lowered itself to the ground outside the simple homestead surrounded by pumpkin fields. Not one to waste time when the fate of the world might be at stake, Jaden quickly stepped over the rough doormat bearing the words “None Welcome”, and rapped at the door.

Minutes went past, and Jaden started rocking on her heels and twiddled her thumbs. Rhyce cracked his neck, stiff from flying for such a long time. He really should learn to sit down on the flying carpet.

“So, I hear things are going well at your winery?” Jaden made some smalltalk.

“It’s alright. We bottled the first batch last month, and are sending some up to Baron Kalen as thanks for his help with the wratheater incident.” Rhyce scratched his chin. He needed to shave again.

“Isn’t Kalen a little young still for wine?”

“He’s twelve,” Rhyce confirmed with a noncommittal shrug.

“My point exactly!” Jaden raised her voice a little.

The door swung open and a tall figure loomed at the threshold, backlit by a candle in the hallway.

“What is this racket?” Demanded the owner of the pumpkin farm.

“It was all her.” Rhyce quickly pointed at Jaden, shifting the blame and the glare of the tall man to the elf-like mystic.

"Jaden." The voice of the netherfarmer was as dry as his tilled fields. "After my defeat at the battle of blueberry hill, when you made me promise not to interfere in your affairs again, I was led to believe it would be reciprocated?"

"Yes, well, but since I got involved in stuff that affected the entire world, we had to renegotiate a bit," Jaden explained with a nervous smile.

"I remember. That's why I'm here, is it not? Growing nothing but pumpkins." Jeddhar gestured with a hand at the farmland surrounding the house.

"It's true. That's what you agreed upon. He could do nothing to interfere with your design for the world." Rhyce reminded his friend. It had been one heck of a peace treaty.

"Right. I really don't care either way about pumpkins. Never did." Jaden looked across the fields, gently rolling earth only interrupted by the occasional, ill-natured gourd. "Be that as it may, the world now needs you, Jeddhar!"

"Why's that?" The tall man sneered and crossed his arms. This should be good.

"The scourge of the coastlands has risen once more, and now threatens the heart of the allied nations. The Grand is doing her best delaying the threat until we can join the fight. We need you. The world needs you." Jaden raised a fist to the heavens and tried to make her eyes sparkle with patriotism. At least she looked kind of cute doing it.

"I've heard better recruitment pitches. I've GIVEN better pitches. I used to lead a cult, you know?" It was apparent that Jeddhar wasn’t impressed by her attempt.

"Yeah, I... we were there." Jaden pointed at herself and Rhyce.

"I was a bit of a big deal back then." Jeddhar glared at them, his brows meeting like battling caterpillars.

"I know."

"I held the fate of the allied nations in my fist and-" The netherfarmer looked down on his hand, as if he could still squeeze the life out of the countries.

"Jeddhar! No reminiscing! Will you come with us?" The mystic waved a hand in front of the tall man’s face, breaking him out of a starting monologue.

"I might. On a condition!" Jeddhar raised a bony finger that brooked no argument.

“Name it. I have the full support of the grand herself.”

Jeddhar explained his terms, and while they would require some carefully worded letters to the right people, Jaden had complete confidence that her patron would be able to provide this.

The three of them squeezed in on the flying carpet and awkwardly took off. It was actually large enough for four people, but none wanted to sit next to Jeddhar since the old man frankly was creepy as heck despite having spent the last couple of years as a farmer. In the end Rhyce and Jaden perched at the front of the carpet with their legs dangling off the fringe as they rushed through the skies back towards the rose of the desert, the imperial city.

The cups littered the large table in the marble receiving hall. The grand drew upon her years of fortitude and suppressed the tremors in her hand as she reached for the next gently steaming cup. Her expertise in the ancient art of coffee duelling served her well, where they would sit hour upon hour, cup after cup, to determine who could tolerate the most caffeine. The battlechef was foaming at the mouth and his eyes could not remain fixed at any one point for more than a moment, but he was persevering with remarkable dedication. A servant carefully negotiated his way across the sticky, red ribbons that crisscrossed the floor and brought a fresh tray of coffee cups to their table. Soon, they would need to balance cups upon others, as empty space was running out.

The grand hid her heartfelt sigh of relief with a cry of surprise as something smashed through the priceless crystal windows of the receiving hall.

“We return, my grand!” Jaden wasted the element of surprise by posturing in the moonlight with her friends.

The battlechef didn’t need more encouragement, but instead flipped the irreplaceable cherry wood table aside and grabbed the closest pan from the sticky ribbons.

Rhyce vaulted from the flying carpet, his hands a blur as he sent a volley of arrows toward the hulking, ruddy man. The battlechef easily plucked the arrows out of the air with a coffee-fuelled fervour.

“He’s been duelling, Jaden. To him, the rest of the world might as well be standing still!” Rhyce called over his shoulder, only now noticing the two others fighting to free themselves from the suddenly limp carpet. Without its rider, it reverted to its inert state and had dropped the two others from the air with an unceremonious thud to the ground.

“He must have been weakened by the grand’s strategy! I might be able to hurt him with this.” Jaden held a hand to her heart, and sent out a call to her many spirit allies. “Hellfire!”

"Ha! My pans are treated to withstand the hottest of stoves!" The Battlechef easily deflected the fiery attack with a flick of his hand, sending the nether flames scorching towards the announcer, who barely had time to dive to the ground.

"Noctophyx!" The mystic sent out a burst of shadowy smoke from her other hand, trusting that the breathstealer’s magic can find a crack in the impenetrable armour of her foe.

"Ha! I've been drinking coffee for six hours straight! Nothing can weaken me!" The hulking man merely shrugged off the enfeebling magic, completely unaffected.

"Valignat!" More fire rushed from Jaden’s hands.

"Didn't I just tell you about my pans? Pay attention!"

"De-" Jaden didn’t have time to finish her fourth invocation, as the battlechef retaliated viciously.

"My turn! Wafflestooooorm!" The large man spun quickly, as much as the sticky ribbons would allow, and sent out a shower of hot, geometric cakes. Jaden ran and slid into cover behind the table, feeling the solid impacts against the other side through the thick wood.

Rhyce wasn’t as quick on his feet and was struck down. From the little Jaden could see over the edge of the table, he was struggling to remove one of the waffles from his leg. Those trousers were a total loss. That stain would never wash clean.

“So much noise!” Jeddhar scowled at the combatants, and jabbed a bony finger towards the heaving, pan-wielding man. “Since I don't enjoy waffles, neither should you. Greater Curse: Gluten Intolerance!"

A shard of manifest spite erupted in the air above the battlechef, and crashed down on the man’s shoulders with all the weight of a truly disapproving paternal frown.

"Nooooo!" The battlechef collapsed on the floor, writhing with sudden bowel upheaval. Within seconds, he was completely immobilised with an expression of terminal discomfort etched on his enraged features.

The grand quickly stood up from where she had taken cover behind the cherry wood table, only to regret it as it sent her already high blood-pressure into the headache range. She schooled her face to stillness and turned to the mystic still crouching by her feet.

"You have saved the empire! What boon would you ask of its grand?" Said the Grand of Etria, waving a hand to a scribe who had escaped the final battle with only minimal injuries to his pride. The man quickly dipped a pen in the ready inkwell dangling from his belt in a thin chain, and stood ready to immortalise this moment in the annuals.

"Only two things, your grandship! First that you settle my good friend Stann Winterheart’s tab at the Hungry Harpy tavern." Jaden peeked over the top of the table, and when she was sure that the coast was clear she too stood up, brushing away some coffee cups.

"What, do you think the empire is MADE out of gold?" The grand immediately refused, not looking at the marble pillars that were, in fact, glad in gold. She had heard all the stories, and would take no chances.

"Maybe? Secondly, that you make a formal request asking the king of Olmar to tell Jeddhar's neighbouring farm to keep it down a little."

Then they lived happily ever after. Even Rhyce.

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Wait, what day is it today?