Horizons of the Heart

By Melange
Copyright © 2013 Melange
All Rights Reserved.

Synopsis

Jaden learns some interesting things at the Convocation of Magi. Mirena and Rhyce enjoys a rare day without rain. Stann goes exploring, but digs himself too deep. Oleander and Jaden makes a disturbing discovery.

Flashback: A young Jaden waves his mother off as she goes on an important assignment.

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Chapter 15: Sunless Sonata

JADEN

Their feet made a soft padding noise as they raced down the hallway. The long carpet that kept the floor warm went almost the entire length from the dining room to the great balcony overlooking the steep mountainside. The doors to the balcony were always closed, to keep the chill of the mountain outside, no matter the season. Talraman was seldom a warm place.

“Dragon breath! You’re dead!” The black-haired girl made a roaring noise while holding out her arms stiffly as if they were wings and she was soaring.

“Nu-uh! I’m a golem, just like Master Whiskers!” The boy with the same hair and ears as his sister crossed his arms in front of his body as a shield.

“You’re stupid! Dragonfire melts golems!” The girl’s voice rose another octave, refusing to be beaten by such cheap tricks.

“No it doesn’t! Papa told me so!”

“Liar!”

“Cheater!” The boy tried not to let his sister get the last word in this time too.

The door next to the balcony opened up and a white-haired woman stepped out into the hallway with an expression of mixed amusement and annoyance. The children hadn’t noticed her yet, too focused on trying to shout louder than the other sibling. She crossed her arms and donned a stern mask.

“Lilya, Jaden! Garda’s fires, what are you doing?” Their mother put her hands on her hips and leaned forward when she had grabbed their full attention. “You know I was talking with councilman Ilduste today. It’s very important, and we can’t hear each other with all this yelling.”

“Well, I won,” Lilya declared proudly. She always strived to be the strongest, after all.

“No, you didn-“ her brother began, but was interrupted by their mother before it started another shouting match.

“Either play in your rooms, or go to one of your friends. Now, shoo, you hellions!” She kept her strict expression. Garen wanted rules in this household, and she would do her best to make sure their children understood that.

“Yes, mommy!” The girl, a year older than the boy, turned around and headed back to her room. Though she sometimes forgot herself, Lilya never had a problem with following the rules.

Her son remained in the hallway and looked at her with those big, brown eyes. He could probably use a bath.

“Did you want something, Jay?” She knelt down as the young boy ran into her arms.

“Lilya called me stupid, mommy!” Jaden burrowed his face into her grey and silver robe.

“Well, that’s because you are, Jay.” His mother said, remorselessly.

“What?!”

When Jaden looked up at his mother’s face, her serious expression slipped and showed her real self. Her special face she only showed her children sometimes, to Jaden more than his sister. His mother’s smile was all the warmth he ever needed.

“Got you there, my little raindrop.” She ran a hand through that black hair both her children had from their father. She couldn’t help but wonder about what people they would grow up into, but she had no doubt in that they would bring a breath of fresh air into the rigid society of the Lacunai. They may have their father’s colours, but they had her heart.

Before Jaden could reply, the man she had been talking with left the Tarasov’s receiving room with a soft whisper of his midnight robes and cleared his throat.

“Irissa? It’s time for us to leave now. We need the Dancing Tempest to handle the negotiations with the ambassador of Skyreach Eternal,” the aging man said, gesturing at the balcony doors. That was the way the children’s parents often arrived at their home.

“Oh, of course councilman. I’ll be just a moment,” Irissa nodded at the grey-haired mystic, and then turned back to the child in her arms. “Jaden? I want you to tell your father that I left for my big meeting as soon as he comes home.”

“Okay. When is he coming home?” Jaden tried to hold on a bit longer, but he had to let go when his mother stood back up.

“Who knows? Those dragons sure take their time talking sometimes, don’t they?” She snuck him another smile when the councilman wasn’t looking, and winked. She had already discussed her own trip with Garen, but giving their son an ‘important mission’ would make the boy feel better. “Be nice to your sister and aunt Sabel while I’m gone.”

“I wish you wouldn’t go, mommy.”

“I’ll be back before you know it, raindrop,” Irissa waved at her youngest child and joined the older man by the balcony doors. The chill of the mountain air rushed in with a wind as soon as the doors opened.

Irissa turned and waved at Jaden one more time, before she reached within and embraced her inner spirit. Her features became translucent and windblown as her feet left the ground, regretting how their duties so often kept them away from their children. Irissa of the Dancing Tempest floated away into the blue sky

The din of many conversations was loud enough that it was hard to make yourself heard in the main gathering hall. Some groups had already begun to make use of the several more private rooms set aside for such business. Eventually, a functionary that looked vaguely similar to the one who had taken Jaden’s name earlier struck a bell and announced that the first debate of the day was about to being in the auditorium, followed by the presentation on the latest expedition to the other continent by the esteemed Rune Seeker Sarzall.

“I wouldn’t mind sitting in on the debate, Mystic Hetagon,” Kellen confessed with an almost eager expression. “I understand it is Spellsinger Inadra, who apprenticed under Mirria herself, debating the ethics of mercenary magic with a spokesperson of the Arcane Order.”

“Yes, it will no doubt prove a very interesting discussion. They sent Torem Khemar to handle her. You know they’re expecting trouble when putting up a dwarf defence speaker. Let us go see what the conclusion will be.” Alam stroked his chin in thought, keeping a neutral face. His wings shifted a little as he changed his stance. “Lilya? No doubt you want to catch up with your brother. We will meet up here after the debate is over.”

“As you wish, Lord Protector,” the hard-eyed woman bowed her head. She glanced up after a while when Oleander hadn’t made a move to leave their side.

“Hi, I’m-“

“Apprentice! Come along now. Leave those two alone,” Kellen bellowed over the noise of dozens of magicians comparing their crafts.

“But-“

“Attend your master, girl!” Lilya hissed. She appeared offended by the disrespect Oleander was showing her ‘master’.

The redhead frowned a little, then looked up at Jaden and smiled. For a second, he thought she was going to say something else, but she just gave him a little wave before hurrying after the two men. The crowd willingly parted when Alam and Kellen walked forward. Jaden gave his friends one last longing look, before turning back to face the music.

“Lilya,” he began.

“Don’t you ‘Lilya’ me, you… you waste of skin!” She managed to restrain herself, just barely. His sister always had more of their father’s temper than he had. “Do you have any idea how ashamed we were when you just disappeared overnight?”

“I wrote a letter…”

“Burn the letter! You owe us more than that. What broke inside your head, and made you abandon all pretence at honour and just slink away from your duty?”

“You know what, Lil. You must’ve heard what… happened,” Jaden felt the embarrassment flush his face; if not for the veil, that is. He couldn’t get over how much the same they looked now, were it not for his disguise. They stood eye to eye, same hair, same ears. The eyes told a different tale now, though. His had only grown more golden, while Lilya’s sought the essence of stone.

“The mountain gives no more than what we’re expected to carry, Jay. But you dropped it at our feet, and now we had to carry it for you!” Lilya clenched her fists over and over, as if she was fighting a desire to pick her brother up and shake some sense into him. No violence would be tolerated at the convocation, however. That would get her expelled, and banned from future gatherings. “Show some bloody spine for once. Tarasovs don’t run, we stand and do what need doing.”

“You sound like dad, Lil.” Jaden searched his sister’s face for the girl she had been before.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. I expect you to return with us once we’re done here.” Lilya crossed her arms over her surcoat, pushing up the family crest that was draped across her chest.

“I… I can’t. I’ve got my friends here, and we’re doing… things.” He lied awkwardly. Several other lines had appeared in his head, unbidden, but it was bad enough lying to Lilya as it was, without starting to make up things completely.

“Dragon dung, Jay! I can see right through you. I always could.” Her finger was barely an inch from his chest, where the illusion just barely covered reality. The pupils of her hard amber eyes seemed narrower than normal, almost lizard-like. She had begun to drift, too. “There are only so many chances you’ll get, even with family. You need to stop burning bridges right now, or things will end up very badly for you.”

That hit him right in the heart. He was pushing everyone away. Mom, dad, Lil, his friends. Before he even knew what was happening, it all came rushing up. He covered his face with his hands as his shoulders shook.

The gathering hall was mostly empty, as magicians had left for private chambers, or the larger rooms where scheduled events took place. The ones who remained for various reasons, gave the siblings the privacy they needed. Nobody enjoyed seeing people weep in public.

Lilya watched her brother cry for a while, and then felt her shoulders slump down. She hesitated for a moment before hugged him close, feeling the illusion pass through her arms. It didn’t surprise her one bit. Nothing could stand up against her gaze, after all. It revealed the threads of magic with the same ease it showed the essence of stone inside every living thing, just waiting to be awakened.

“Jay, you’re a dummy.” She said, sighing at the scene he was causing.

“I know.”

“Happy birthday too, I guess,” Lilya said offhandedly.

“You remembered?” Jaden pulled back a bit so he could see her face. She still looked angry.

“Of course. It’s because I’m not stupid, like you.” She looked him over critically. “By the mountain, Jay, what are you wearing?”

"Something is wrong with me, Lil. I'm drifting too fast." How could she think about clothes right now?

"All the more reason for you to come back with us," Lilya squeezed his shoulders where she still held onto him.

"I can't. Didn't you hear what dad wants me to do?" Jaden didn’t want to think about that. Forget honour, there was no dignity in that.

"I wouldn't worry about father if I were you. Mother's furious with you for just leaving like that."

"Oh." Their mother was mostly calm like a cloudless sky, but once her ire had been awakened, it was thunder and lightning. Literally.

"We had bad weather for a week."

"I don't want this, Lil. I really, really don't want this." Jaden awkwardly touched a hand to his chest above his heart.

"Tough. This is who you are. What are you going to do about it?" His sister was all about tough love, which was made worse by how she often forgot the ‘love’ part of it.

"I thought that... Maybe here at the convocation, I could find some way of reversing this."

"Rejecting your spirit? That's unheard of, Jay." Lilya looked at him with something close to disdain. The bond between the mystic and the spirit was, well, sacred. Jaden was approaching blasphemy by Lacunai standards.

"I have to try something. I'm... losing myself." He had to try to make her see, somehow. There was something deeply wrong with his bond. Or right. Maybe it was too right?

Lilya let her hands fall to her side and regarded him silently with those stony eyes. She pursed her mouth in thought, which was a good sign. That meant she was considering it, at least.

"Please, Lil."

"Fine. Never say I didn't do anything for you. I'll run interference back home, but unless you're back by midwinter I'll hunt you down and drag you back myself. I've got your new scent now." She leaned forward and glared a bit to make her point. Jaden hugged his sister again, causing her to roll her eyes. "That just feels weird now, with you squishing up against me like that."

"Yeah, I know," Jaden laughed a little.

"You're lucky you have that minor veil. You're all blotchy right now."

"Garda's fires," Jaden cursed softly and wiped at his eyes. No one would see his face. No one except Lilya, that is.

"You sound like mother when you say that," Lilya commented coolly. Or was she amused? It was getting harder to tell.

"Well, she-"

"No, I mean, you literally sound like her. A cheap veil like that can't handle voices." She sniffed at the embroidered nymph kerchief tied around his head, in the guise of that nondescript hat.

"It wasn't cheap; I had to trade in my Talraman blade-"

"You did what?" Lilya's eyes flashed dangerously. "Why, I ought to petrify you where you stand! Father had promised that sword to me, since you were unfit for a protector’s duty. But you ran away with it! Where is it now?"

"I sold it in a curiosity tent outside Tier. Some Etrian trader with a lot of enchanted items, uh, and perfumes." Did he still have that bottle? He remembered enjoying that scent.

"Blight and bloody boggarts." Lilya rubbed her face to keep from strangling her brother. She finally settled on shooting him another angry glare. "That's just one more thing you owe me now, Jay. If I can't get it back, I'll find myself a statue to hang my clothes on. Hint. Hint."

Jaden sincerely hoped his sister would be able to find it. It wasn’t a very special sword. It was one of a hundred just like it, made to arm the Talraman protectors during the time when the mountain citadel was at war with the entire world. But it had been with the family ever since those long gone days, and trading it away hadn't been his proudest moment.

Their shouting hadn’t gone unnoticed however. A peacekeeping functionary eventually approached them, with a concerned expression. Once he recognised one of them as a member of the Mystics’ delegation, he kept a respectful — or fearful — distance.

"Is everything alright here, sir? Some of the guests feared an altercation might be imminent."

"No, everything's fine. Thank you. My sister is just telling me about her, uh-" Jaden glanced at his sister, their sibling bond waking up after having been asleep for a long time.

"Statue collection." Lilya said resolutely, in the same way a rector of Melat pronounced judgment upon the guilty.

"Right. Her statues?" Jaden winced a little.

"I... see. Very well. Try to keep it civil, would you kindly? We wouldn't want to have to ask you to leave."

"Of course. My apologies." Jaden tried to smooth things over.

"Walk away, human." Lilya frowned at the functionary. There would apparently be no smoothening.

The man did, with the studied patience of someone who had worked as a servant to nobles and other entitled people for most of his life.

"'Human'? Lil, we're human too, you know?" Jaden reminded his sister.

"Only about two fifth, by my count," Lilya shrugged a little. She always needed to be right.

"At least we're not elves." He pointed out.

"Actually..." Always needed to be right.

The sun was breaking through the clouds, and reached down with rays of warmth to the people in Farcrest’s streets. From her seat by the window, Mirena could see a woman passing by who unconsciously turned her head a bit upward to catch more of the light. Everyone sought the light in their own way.

“It seems a shame to spend the morning cooped up in the Old Hog,” Mirena told Stann, who was lazily pulling strips of meat from a piece of chicken and waving them in front of the innkeeper’s dog.

The spotty mutt tilted its head to the side, causing its long ears to swing a bit, but then lay back down by Rhyce’s feet. The archer hid a faint, lopsided smirk as he reached down and scratched its head.

“Thar is no better place t’ be, I’ll have yu know,” the dwarf wiped a hand on his leather apron and grabbed another mug from the tray to dry off. “Exceptin’ the emerald halls of the kingdom below.”

“No offense intended, keeper Turgar,” Mirena smiled at the stocky owner of the Old Hog Inn.

“Hmpf. And yu,” Turgar pointed a thick finger at Rhyce. “Give me back me fleabag! ‘e is supposed to be gerdin’, no rollin’ on the floor.”

The dog whined a little, and looked up at Rhyce.

“It is a nice day, for as long as it’ll last,” Stann commented, leaning forward a bit to be able to see out the window. “Maybe I should go see the sights of the city?”

“I feel like visiting the market again. There should still be a lot of activities on the day after the celebration,” Mirena mused, and brushed some stray hair back over an ear.

“I’ll come along,” said Rhyce. “I’ve been inside for too long anyway.”

The warrior bid the archer and the knight a pleasant trip, and headed off to explore. He had only looked at the nearby areas since they arrived, and felt like truly taking the measure of the capital of Alband in a way only a Northman could.

It really was a beautiful day. Many of the revellers from last night had begun to regain their senses, and had started to head outside as well. It wasn’t anywhere near as busy as last night, but Mirena and Rhyce found themselves having to wait their turns at some places. One street was even blocked off by two wagons heading opposite ways, with their drivers shouting at each other and generally causing a ruckus.

“That would never happen in Tier. The wagon streets were designed wide enough for two to pass side by side without having to resort to… to such profanities,” Mirena gestured back at the street they had just passed.

“Not every place has that luxury,” the archer said, as he held open the door to a jeweller’s shop. Mirena smiled and walked inside. “After all, while some aspire to gold, others will settle for coppers.”

“Witty, Rhyce,” Mirena approved with a small laugh. Tier was best known for its rich, almost golden stonework, and its high towers. Farcrest, on the other hand, started growing around a copper trade route.

While browsing the displays, Mirena thought again about last night. Before she left to serve the temple, she had resented her parents for making her go to such events, but now she found herself missing the music and the dancing. Maybe she would have to settle for copper, as well. To her surprise Rhyce had asked the storeowner to let him look closer at a slim silver chain of some sort. The archer held it in his hands for a moment, and then nodded to himself.

“That’s a very ladylike necklace, Rhyce. Who are you buying it for?” Mirena asked, as he was paying for his purchase.

“My wife,” Rhyce replied laconically, and glanced at the window to the street.

“Your-“ She followed his gaze, and lost her train of thought when a new customer stepped into the store. He was quite familiar, even though she only met him once before. She felt a smile claim her face. “Arim!”

“Eh? Oh, milady Mirena! What a surprise!” Her dancing partner from yesterday blinked a few times, and returned her smile in full. “It seemed like a nice day for a stroll, and here we are.”

“What are you doing here? Looking for a gift?” Mirena stepped closer, and failed to notice how her friend slipped past behind her, leaving the store.

“Yes. I mentioned how I had been left hanging as well, yesterday? Well, I thought I’d find a nice present for my niece once they show up.” Arim scratched the back of his neck, no doubt a little self-conscious to be caught in a shop catering to ladies’ jewellery by someone he had danced closely with just the other night.

“That’s very sweet of you. I’m sure she’ll love it. I can give you some suggestions, if you’d like?”

“Please! I’m not sure what girls like these days. Likely, I’d just buy something too expensive to make up for my lack of fine taste. My coins and I will be in your debt, for sure.” Arim laughed with some relief as tension ran out of his shoulders.

Outside the sun was drying up all the last drops of yesterday’s rain. Rhyce stood for a while, just looking at the blue sky. Then, he raised his hand with the silver chain. Some people passing by gave him a second look as he stood there, but soon a black bird swept down from the rooftops and carefully plucked the item from his fingers. It gathered itself and flew off again, heading west and inlands. Rhyce followed it with his eyes until he could no longer see it, and then he turned and walked the street alone.

Farcrest was a curious city. It wasn’t as sprawling as Etrana, what seemed to go on forever, or as resplendent as Tier, who sought to awe her visitors. Farcrest held onto good old Albander sense, but had simply scaled it up to fit a larger community. It was hard to be surprised by Farcrest. Streets led where they were supposed to go, and the different districts must have been planned ahead by some visionary architect of the ages. Or maybe the Albander had simply made a collective decision not to mess it up. Of all the capitals of the countries along the coast, Farcrest was no doubt the youngest, but after Alband breaking off from the empire, it had grown rapidly into the large city it was today. Stann could definitely appreciate a place like this.

Stann had spent most of the morning making his way around the other edges of the city, but aside from some fortifications there wasn’t a whole lot to see. It wasn’t until he decided to take the northern road back towards the inner city that he happened upon a large merchant’s wagon standing by the side of the street. He immediately recognised the style of a Northman wagon, and by the colours of their clothes, he’d bet his favourite throwing axe those were of the Ravenwing clan.

“Ho, blackfeathers!” Stann called out as he joined the small group of people inspecting the fine steel of the North.

“Well met, bloodsnow!” One of the older men replied, his dark blonde and grey hair braided back from his face. He probably had more hair on his chin than on his head.

“Showing the southerners how it’s done?” The winterheart warrior shouldered his way up to the front and grasped a heavy battle-axe in a hand. It was good, solid craftsmanship. He could almost feel the cold of his homeland inside that steel.

“Aye. The iron down here is so soft; we could use it to wipe our behinds!” The Ravenwing men laughed heartily.

Stann grinned as well, and looked across the rest of the people looking at the Northmen’s wares. He did a double-take when he saw the tapered ears rising out of silky blonde, almost white, hair. It framed a face that was cute for an elf, but beautiful to a human. She was inspecting some of the lighter blades, even holding one of them in her slender hands. He put on his best grin, and leaned casually against the side of the wagon.

“A lady after my own heart. Do you see anything you like?” Stann delivered his line with a wink.

The elven woman had the good grace to smile, even at such a crude pick-up line. She kept turning the slim blade over in her hands, though.

“Perhaps. I was too busy yesterday to visit these markets.” She had a wonderful, melodious voice too, and a very noticeable accent. “Preparations for our performance took priority, of course.”

“Ah, you’re part of the Sorun group?” Stann deduced as his eyes roamed a little. Not too much, though. He was a gentleman, after all.

“I’m with the Sona Sonorous, yes.” She admitted, one eyebrow pulling down a little as if she had touched something she rather she hadn’t.

“A heavy name for such a slender lady.” He was smoother than a greased boar. Some of the Ravenwing men groaned a little, but what did they know?

“It’s a translation. Some nuances might be lost.” The elven woman seemed undecided whether to put down the short sword, or use it.

“What do you call it in elf-speak?”

“Serecea Sonasirium” She said, reluctantly.

“Say something else in that tongue of yours?” Stann loved hearing the elves speak their own language. It felt like warm honey being poured into his ears.

“Perot.” With that, she firmly put the blade back on the pile.

“That was something dirty, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” and with that, the elven woman left with a relieved smile.

Stann sighed as she walked away. That was one fine-looking woman. He was brought out of his budding fantasy when his countrymen gave him a slow applause.

“Well done, bloodsnow. That was inspiring.”

“Eh, shut your gaps,” Stann joked, and waved them off as he left as well. What did they know?

As the first, but greatly anticipated debate was done for the day, the audience began to filter out through the doors to the auditorium, forming into small groups to discuss what they had taken from the argument between Spellsinger Inadra and Sorcerer Torem. While they were walking back to where the Tarasovs had been talking, Alam Hetagon and Kellen was talking about their own views about the separation between the magical traditions and the states.

“The division is artificial and unnatural. Magicians are members of their people and culture, so why should they be forced to be set apart from their homes?” Alam spoke not with anger, but with the intense surety of a believer.

“Magic is the most powerful force we know of. No individual state should command something like that. Rulers are but people too, and can make mistakes,” Kellen argued according to the position that had brought the convocation into being in the first place.

“We shall just have to agree, to disagree then, rune seeker,” the winged protector of the mountain nodded with an amused twitch on his lips. Talraman represented, to a degree, a lot of what the debate had been about. A place where magicians ruled. Magocracy was a scary concept to many.

Oleander had the look of someone pushed to their personal limits of sanity out of boredom, and welcomed the chance to hurry back to Jaden’s side. Lilya gave her a frown as the redhead joined them.

"Lilya, this is my friend Oleander," Jaden introduced the two women, not having had the chance to properly do so before.

"Right. The rune seeker's apprentice." Lilya crossed her arms again, standing with her weight evenly divided, as if facing down an opponent.

"Hi! We didn't get a chance to talk before, but I can't get over how much the two of you look alike." The redhead couldn’t help glancing between the two of them. The kinship was very obvious.

"You have no idea." The stony-eyed woman looked at her brother, her gaze piercing through the illusion.

"Uh, I guess not?" Oleander shrugged a little.

"I need to get back to my duties now," Lilya glanced over at the Lord Protector of Talraman, who was about to head off to their next appointment. He was motioning at her to come.

"Hey, wait! Can I see your battle-shape?"

"My what?" She stopped and turned back around.

"She means manifestation," Jaden translated, covering his face with a palm. Lilya stared at the cheeky, short redhead for a moment.

"You're Olman, right? Have you heard the expression 'don't draw your bow unless you intend to shoot'?" Lilya's voice took on a growling undertone towards the end.

"Sure, it's a- oh. Right."

Lilya Tarasov gave the short woman another pointed stare, then turned on her heel and stalked off to join her superior. She said something to Alam, but they couldn’t hear it over the noise of dozens of people talking around the gathering hall.

"Your sister, she's kind of intense, Jay." Oleander admitted.

"Yeah, she always was." But lately, it had just grown more so. Whatever had happened in her spirit quest, it had honed the hard part of her to a keen edge.

"I can't help but think I've seen her before, though, somewhere." Oleander tapped her lip with a finger in thought.

"That's probably unlikely." Jaden couldn’t imagine a situation where the two would run into one another, aside from places like these. His sister had never been the adventurous sort, and felt that travelling was a bother.

"You know, you two sound a lot alike too. How's that throat of yours?" The redhead gave Jaden a look of concern.

"It's, uh, getting better," Jaden forced his voice into a lower registry. Just one more thing to worry about. He took note of Alam’s clothes, though. A design that allowed for wings might come in handy in the future. He was getting very tired of ending up topless whenever he’s forced to do something he desperately wanted to avoid. It just seemed like an extra pinch of salt on a raw wound.

While Kellen happily went from room to room during the following hours, sometimes bringing Oleander along for an “educating experience” much to her protests, Jaden spent it talking with other magicians of many other traditions. Since his questions might raise some strange questions, especially coming from a mystic, he fell back on what felt natural — Jaden lied. Pretending to be an elven sorcerer interested in transformation magic was easier than he imagined, but he tried to avoid speaking with other sorcerers anyway, just in case there were some subtle tells he would miss.

Some of the men and women he managed to speak with, when he managed to catch them between events, would refer him to the Mystics’ envoy. Quite ironic, he had to admit, but they were considered to be the best “shapeshifters”.

One particular rune seeker mentioned seeing some very fascinating frescoes while conducting an exploratory dig outside Bul Isra, an elven city on the far side of the Sorun wildlands. According to those ancient texts there were a caste of elven magicians called the Arat Duar, who walked a path somewhere between the priests of the Five Temples, and the shamans of the North. Or, maybe the other way around, since the elven geomancers came well before either of the others. The inscriptions spoke of these elves who could use magic to alter both living things, and the inanimate.

“Though, I don’t know if any remnant of that ancient tradition even remains to this day,” the middle-aged orc-blooded woman concluded with a small academic sigh. “I’ve certainly not met any in my travels, or even heard about them from anywhere else than old ruins and forgotten tomes.”

“I see. Thank you for your time, seeker Morkgha.” Jaden bowed, and left with a mixed feeling of frustration in his stomach.

When he saw Kellen and the increasingly distressed Oleander again, it was in the early afternoon. The redhead ran to his side again, clutching his arm.

“Don’t let him take me to any more of those lectures, please! I take back anything bad I ever said about you stupid book-reading wizards. I don’t want to be an apprentice anymore, even a fake one!” She bared her teeth at Kellen. It wasn’t a smile, not really.

“Well, wasn’t all that interesting, little fox?” Kellen said magnanimously. “You’ve learned so much today, haven’t you?”

“Leave me alone, you monster!” She shot back. Oleander wasn’t much for the temptations of the ivory tower.

“Your loss. My colleagues here have invited me along for a little ‘shop talk’ after the last event now. Why don’t you, my dear apprentice, go sort your runes according to epoch?” The Northman’s comment earned a knowing nod and chuckle from the other rune seekers. It must be a common theme for many seekers in training.

Oleander stuck her tongue out once Kellen had turned his back and began to leave with his newfound friends. Jaden imagined it must be nice for the huge Northman to talk with people on his own level for a change. Jaden loved his friends, but he was smart enough to realise that none of them offered the kind of intellectual challenge Kellen no doubt sought.

“Are you hungry?” Jaden asked his remaining friend, who still had a hand around his wrist. When he looked down, she hurriedly let him go.

“Yeah, a bit. The snacks here were good, but I didn’t want to just camp out at a table and gobble them all up. People were starting to look at me like I was the weird one after my third trip to the tables.” Her breath smelled slightly of eggs and lemon.

“You are weird, Ollie.”

“Bite me, elfboy.”

“Ugh,” Jaden wanted to reach up and make sure his hat properly covered his ears again. He had let them out while pretending to be an elf earlier. “Hey, do you remember what we used to do in Etrana?”

“Want to head down to the harbour and watch the ships?” Oleander brightened like a star. Both she and Jaden had grown up far from the ocean, with ships only in stories. They had enjoyed several moments just watching the wind push those big boats out into the endless waves.

“We could get something to eat while we’re there.” They smiled at each other. Just like old times.

Those waves came crashing in from the same ocean they had seen so many, many miles to the south. It was humbling to realise how small they were in comparison to the deep blue. Several ships were docked, bearing flags from all over the world. Oleander pointed out an Olman vessel, probably hailing from Risan.

They had gotten a “worker’s lunch” from one of the taverns near the harbour. A piece of bread a little larger than a hand, stuffed with meat and greens. Oleander had even picked up a bottle of wine for them to share as they sat with their legs out over the pier, dangling above the water.

“Hey, do you want some fruit to go with that?” Oleander rummaged around in her satchel.

“Sure, I guess? What do you have?” Jaden took another bite out of his stuffed bread.

“This!” She shoved something up into his face. He recognised the shape of something he would rather forget all about. It made him remember a very bad day in his life.

“Get that out of my face, Ollie!” He tried to push her away.

“No, never!” She sounded triumphant now that she had found his weakness.

Jaden pushed her harder, and they fell over to the side, with her almost on top of him. Oleander met his eyes, and for a couple of heartbeats they were both silent, not knowing what to do. The rude whistling of a harbour worker caused the moment to pass, and Oleander slid away from him with a slight blush on her face. The workers grinned at the two young foreigners as they strolled past to their next job.

When Jaden sat back up, Oleander had taken a large bite out of her lunch and seemingly focused on that. He wasn’t sure what to feel about this. It felt strange. Did she like him, as in like-like him? Or was he just reading too much into an embarrassing situation? Also, when had he even bothered with thinking about these things?

"Isn't that the captain we saw yesterday?" Oleander pointed toward one of the large storage houses huddled together along the waterfront like weary old soldiers before their last battle.

"I think so, yeah," Jaden looked up from his half-finished piece of bread, and spotted the brightly clad Marsander seafarer urging his men to work quickly as they carried covered crates of widely different sizes to the waiting wagon. Strange that they hadn't anchored their ship closer to the storage, so they could bring the wares directly on board without having to use wagons.

"Aren't you curious what they're smuggling? Maybe it's Northern iron, since they're headed to
Marsantias?" The redhead speculated. The island nation didn't have large iron reserves of its own, and traded for many metals.

"What about drugs? Those merchants looked pretty shady back there," Jaden suggested, and threw a few pieces of bread to a crow that had hopped up on a nearby mooring pillar. It looked a little lonely, so he felt like feeding it for some reason.

"Eh, I don't know. That lot didn't look like Whitewater material to me. The Cartel takes umbrage with anyone trying to edge in on their business. Tier is not that far off, after all.”

"Either way, we should probably stay out of their way, Ollie." Jaden looked out over the waves crashing against the harbour side. The sea was a mystery to him, but he felt it was oddly calming as well. "The ocean breeze feels nice. We should do this more often."

"Yeah," Oleander peered up at him almost shyly and smiled. "We really should."

On a whim, Jaden opened his senses to the magical world, and looked out across the sea. The ocean wasn't magic in of itself, but it was as if he could see streams of light threading its way through the currents underneath the surface. Like rivers in the ocean. It was a subtle, but humbling display of the hidden pulse of the world.

A place where there is a river in the sky, came to his mind, but it hadn’t been his thought.

"Is that a cage they're carrying?" Oleander's voice sounded as if Jaden was underwater, a bit distorted and distant. The mundane world always took on a slightly unreal quality when he witnessed its magical reflection.

Jaden looked the way she was pointing again, back at the storage house. With his mystics' sight, he couldn't make out the details very well - it was all a grey blur. But the light of magic shone clearly within the cage, like a candle in the dark. Almost all the boxes the workers had stacked on the wagon held some sort of magic.

The magic inside the crates was moving. It was alive. The captain was transporting magical creatures.

"Ollie? Are you still curious about what's in those crates?" The Lacunai made pacts with willing creatures. He wasn’t sure what was going on here, however.

"Sure? Did you see something?" She peered at the place where the workers toiled away.

"Yeah. Let's sneak inside and take a closer look." Jaden tried not to listen to his instincts. They always caused him to end up in trouble.

"Alright! Now you're singing my song!"

The workers were too busy to pay much attention to other folks just walking past the storage buildings. The captain kept their eyes on the cargo, making them fail to notice how two of those people, out on an afternoon stroll, ducked back around a corner. They were too into stacking the boxes to see the same two use the cover of a couple of large waiting crates to sneak inside their building.

It was somewhat poorly lit inside. A single oil lamp hung from a nail on a support post provided some illumination, and the wide open doors allowed some daylight to reach inside. Further inside, however, and the large front portion of the storage became clad in shadows. Oleander picked her way through the passages lined with whatever crates and boxes the merchants kept here, her eyes on an opening into a rear section. When a small group of workers returned inside for their next load, Jaden touched her arm and they crouched down until the sound of the men struggling back toward the door told them it was safe to continue.

Stepping around the inner wall, they relaxed a little. It looked like the men were focusing on the cargo closest to the doors for now, which should give them some time to poke around. Jaden’s eyes adapted to the darkness almost immediately, and now it was his time to lead as Oleander was still mostly feeling her way around. There were more boxes here, but also covered cages of different sizes.

“Hang on, Ollie. I’m going to take a peek,” he said, trusting she would know what he meant.

With the fading mundane colours, the presences inside the cages became vivid beacons. Magic was present in a lot of these boxes, as well. Jaden turned around to take in all of the back area. He stopped when he saw the large tree. It had been roughly prepared for transport with its branches and roots hacked off. He couldn’t look away from the woman lying on top of the tree, her green skin shimmering to his mystics’ sight, her hands caressing the bark. She was whispering something over and over. The dryad looked sickly, with sunken eyes and cheeks, and paid them no notice.

“What was that?” Oleander looked at the covered cage next to them. There was another rustling from behind the burlap. When she squatted down and lifted the cloth, she barely kept from swearing out loud when a lizard-like head peered back at her.

It was a reddish-brown creature with a long snout, small horns and bright yellow eyes. Its wings had been slashed to prevent flight, should it ever leave the cage.

“That’s a kosh-dars, a dracone.” Jaden explained, kneeling down as well. He couldn’t help the wave of sympathy for this small creature, distantly related to the dragons his father walked among.

On hearing him saying the name in the dragons’ language, the dracone raised its head with something close to a hopeful gleam in its eyes. It hissed a few times, but managed with difficultly to form draconic words. Jaden began to translate for Oleander’s benefit.

“Speak Great Ones’ tongue?”

“I do, friend. A bit.” Jaden concentrated on remembering the inflections and syntax of the ancient language.

“Come free us?”

Jaden looked at Oleander as he translated the dracone’s words. The redhead started to look sad.

“We didn’t even know they were here…” She mumbled.

“We were unaware of your plight, friend.”

The small dragon lowered its head down on its front claws again. It looked tired.

“Help us?”

“We will try. How did you come here?”

“They came to Serecea. Traps. Brought us on long water, and rolling wood. Been here for days. Don’t know. No sun.” The dracone closed its eyes, trying to save its strength.

“Serecea?” Oleander blinked.

“It’s the elven word for Sorun,” Jaden explained.

“This isn’t right, Jay. This is slavery.” She bit her lip.

“It’s murder, Ollie. That dryad over there is dying. They cut her roots, and sawed off her branches.” He glanced again at the green woman. She hugged the mutilated trunk of the tree as if she could keep it alive with her love alone.

“We need to do something!”

"I know, but without the others here, I'm not sure what we can do." Jaden looked around the room. His almost-gold eyes could pick up the details all too clearly in the darkness.

"Let's bust open the cages," Oleander pulled out her favoured three-tooth medium pick from her sleeve.

"Most of these guys don't look like they can run, let alone walk. We need a plan to get them out. We need Mirena and Rhyce, at least. All of us, really."

Before Oleander could reply, the dryad craned her head back a bit and stared sightlessly toward the roof.

“I can smell violets… Are we back at the grove again? Are we home?” Her voice was frail, but even in this state it reminded Jaden of sunlit, green fields and dewdrops falling off leaves.

The sound of footsteps coming toward the rear section put an end to their whispering. There were no other way out than through the front door, so they hid behind the dracone’s cage, with Jaden apologising as they let the cover fall back over the bars.

"Alright. Bring the wood, too. They pay good for that." The foreman directed the men to the dryad’s tree.

As the workers started to push the tree toward the separation wall, the dryad began to sing in a low voice, a soothing lullaby to her oak. Jaden and Oleander took the opportunity of their distraction to sneak out into the front part of the storage building. As they were about to step outside into the fresh air of the harbour, someone shouted from within.

"Hey, you! You are not allowed in here!" The foreman pointed at them, and began to walk their way with quick steps.

Oleander didn’t bother to wait for another reason, and broke into a run, grabbing Jaden by the hand and dragged him along. The man shouted at other workers to follow as he began to chase them. She ducked in between the buildings, dashing through the alleys that just about allowed a grown person. Oleander, having grown up on the streets, knew how to run and hide. Two quick turns on the back passages that made out the narrow spaces between the storage houses, and she found an unlocked door. Without checking first, they ducked through and hid as best as they could. The shelves and dirty shovels told them it was some sort of backdoor tool-locker.

"You realise we probably could've taken those workers, right? We've fought Kynians, for goodness sake!" Oleander slapped him on the arm, as if she hadn’t been the one to make a run for it to begin with.

"And a demon," Jaden reminded her.

"That too!"

"I doubt the city guard would be happy with us if we murdered a bunch of dockhands, though." The black-haired mystic pondered out loud.

"I didn't mean we should kill them, just knock them out!"

"There were like six of them, Ollie."

"So?" She didn’t seem to see the problem.

"That's not knock-out odds!" Jaden held up a few fingers to show the difference, but found himself one short. Fortunately, it was probably too dark for her to see it anyway.

"Well, what about your magic?" Oleander made some sounds she imagined represented magic in all its forms, and wiggled her fingers.

"All this is made out of wood. Burning down the entire harbour wouldn't make the guards any happier than the aforementioned bloody rampage."

"You've got that other thing, though, right?" She said, listening at the door.

"What... other thing?" Jaden stiffened in the poorly lit room. She couldn’t possibly know about… his condition, right?

"You know, that not-a-fish spell?"

"... what? Not a fi- oh, Noctophyx?" Jaden paused for a second. "It's really good against single opponents, but the effect is spread out if there's more than one. Against six, it would make it an even fight, but hardly guarantee us walking away."

"I hate even fights!" Dirty was the only way Oleander knew to do combat.

They heard people walking past the other side of the door, and then how one of them stopped and tried the handle.

Jaden didn't have time to think it through. He immediately changed the flow of magic through his veil. The illusion swelled as much as possible, growing a coarse beard and rolled-up sleeves. In the blink of an eye, he was the image of a harbour worker. As the door swung open and daylight rushed into the small side room, Jaden leaned forward and planted a big kiss on Oleander's lips. The double surprise reflected in her huge eyes.

"I found some- uh.." The heavyset man holding the door blinked a little.

"Hey, can't you see I'm busy?" Jaden shot back with the gruffest voice he could manage.

"Uh. Sorry." The man made as if to close the door on the couple, who were clearly having a private moment, when he turned back. "Did you see some young ones hustle through here?"

"I saw two elves hightailing it like dogs were on their scent," Jaden tried his best Albander accent. "Went upcoast. Now get out!"

"Sorry!" The man shut the door gingerly, and then shouted at his friends. "They went that way!"

Jaden and Oleander held their breaths and waited a couple of frantic heartbeats before talking at once.

"Ollie, I'm so sor-"

"Rotting ravens, Jay, wha-" Oleander began. They both trailed off at the same time. "You first."

"I didn't mean to do that, but it was the only thing I could think of," Jaden tried to explain.

"That's okay. I didn't mind." Her chest hurt a little. He hadn't wanted to kiss her. With an effort she swallowed her roiling thoughts for later, and waved at his different form. "But what's with this?"

"Oh. It's an illusion," The mystic explained.

"How long have you been able to do that?" Oleander hadn’t seen Jaden do anything like that before.

"Uh..." Time to lie! "Since picking up a magic scarf from the demon in Redwall. She used it to hide her true appearance."

"Oh. That makes sense. Why didn't you tell us about it?" She frowned a little. It was bad manners to keep loot to yourself. Well, unless it was her doing it, but that was different.

"I didn't know if it still worked. You girls did a number on her!"

"Heh. Yeah, we did," Oleander opened the door a crack and peered outside. "I think it's safe now."

"Okay. You head back and get the others," Jaden said. "I'll use my disguise to see if I can do something for those poor creatures in there."

"No, Jay! Not a chance! You're not ditching me again!" She stabbed him in the chest with a finger. It sunk into the yielding softness. "Woah, that thing is realistic."

"Uh. Yeah." Jaden's illusion of an overweight worker hid the true shape underneath, but the redhead's poke was painful to his sensitive chest. He fought the urge to rub it. "But you can't stay here. One of them was bound to have seen your carrot hair. There's not that many Olman girls up here."

"But..." She knew he was right. They had just been lucky when that man had pulled the door open. The next person who saw them might recognise her from earlier. She gave Jaden a harsh glare anyway. “Fine. I’ll go, but you had better stay out of trouble, you hear me?”

“I’ll try, Ollie.” No promises. That way he wouldn’t have to lie more than he already did.

“You’re not getting a good-luck kiss looking like that, though,” She suddenly flashed him a grin.

“What?” Jaden blinked.

Before he could say anything else, she slipped out of the door with a quick look to see if the coast was still clear. With that, she set off at a dead run back toward the craftsmen’s district.

With Oleander safely away, Jaden started back toward the storage house. At least, he thought he was going the right way. He hadn't paid as much attention as he should have when they were running, but instead focused on not tripping over things while following the redhead. He had to get used to how his body moved now, or he'd probably fall over in the worst situation possible.

A couple of other workers, not seeming like they were actively looking for someone, walked past him with barely a second glance. They carried some covered buckets, and Jaden decided he wasn't curious enough to think about what they were up to. His illusion allowed him to blend in like a chameleon, and that was enough for now.

Certain that he had been turned around at some point, Jaden took a moment to peek into the magical world once more. As the world became grey and faded, he immediately spotted threads converging on a building not too far off. It looked more or less ambient, like how a place tended to be stained by magic if exposed repeatedly over a long time. He wouldn't be sure until he got a closer look, so he approached as casually as he could, reminding himself to copy the trundling gait of the workers. It caused Jaden to stumble a little before he caught himself against a nearby wall. He had to stop for a moment and fight the sudden anger that surged up from within. Nothing was working the way it used to. He was clumsy, and everything was wrong. It was all that spirit’s fault!

A minute passed as he got his breathing under control again. The rage had passed quickly, as suddenly as it had appeared. It left a strange feeling in its wake, partially cleansed but also an echo of acceptance from the other side of his heart. As if something told him it was okay to feel. It was enough to allow him to return to his search.

As Jaden walked around the building looking for the entrance, he realised that this was different storage house than the one they had been inside earlier. Still, with the magic he had seen, there must be something going on in there.

A peek around the corner showed the large double doors, wide enough to allow a wagon inside. The doors were shut, though, and a figure was standing outside, clearly guarding it. The man guarding the door wore a hooded cloak, even during the summer day. Jaden squinted a little against the sun, and barely managed to hold back a surprised gasp. He saw the discolorations on the man's face and hands; the man showed signs of a mystic’s drift.

What was a Lacunai doing here? Was he a part of the delegation from Talraman? Or, was he a rogue mystic like Jaden? He couldn’t think of a good answer to those questions, but one fact remained: that mystic was guarding this building, and that meant that whatever was inside, was very important. Jaden looked around a little more, and saw a ladder propped against the other house just a little bit back the way he had come. His eyes went up toward the roof of the suspicious building, and a plan formed in his mind. Not a good plan, but a plan nevertheless.

Carefully, as quiet as he could, Jaden moved the ladder over and climbed up as far as it allowed. It wasn’t a tall ladder, but he could easily reach the roof from the top rung. He would have to pull himself up the last bit, though. It was a little tougher than he remembered, and there was an unexpected pain when his chest squished against the hard rooftop.

“Stupid breasts,” Jaden hissed as he rolled over on his back after finally managing to clamber the last bit. It had actually hurt.

The roof was not in the best of conditions, with cracks that allowed him to look inside. It was as poorly lit as the other buildings, but that was no problem for Jaden’s eyes. He could make out at least three people standing in an open space amid packaged goods. While not sure, two of them looked like the merchants Oleander and he had heard threatening the Marsander captain. The third man was clearly a little older with grey hair, but unusually tall. About Stann’s height, Jaden guessed, but only half his weight. Without hearing the conversation, he could only imagine what was going on down there. Not for the first time, Jaden wished he had Rhyce’s keen hearing.

Jaden tried crawling a little further up the roof to be able to get a better look at the third man, when a splintering noise underneath him caused a cold pit in his stomach. With a crack and a snap, the roof below his body broke apart and sent him plummeting into the dark storage building.

Jaden barely had time to scream before the impact on a crate drove the air from his lungs. He had managed to twist around during the fall, and landed on his back. The crash broke the wood apart, and sent out a cloud of spices in the room. Not able to draw breath at the moment, Jaden could instead hear the coughing of the men who got caught in the dust.

“What manner of treachery is this?” An angry Albander voice called out.

“I knew we couldn’t trust him, the Olman scum! Look, he brought elven assassins to our meeting!” A second voice. Jaden vaguely recognised the merchants from yesterday.

Wait, elf? Jaden’s eyes caught on a shred of creamy silk swaying in the ocean breeze as it found the hole in the roof. It had ripped on a sharp piece of broken wood. Her hand went to her head. Her veil!

“Now, look here,” a third voice called out. It sounded dry from coughing.

“No, you look! You might have your spellguard bitch, but we have something better!” The first merchant let out a shrill whistle. “Taseno! Leave no bodies!”

Jaden pushed herself to her feet. It was a little easier to move when she could see her arms and legs. The illusion always made things slightly too far away, or too close. Taseno, a mystic? She knew the family name. Not as old as the Tarasovs, but they had their share of powerful magicians over the years.

The doors tore open and the cloaked man walked inside. His form began to waver and expand, at the same time as liquid darkness poured forth from inside the cloak.

“You said this would be a private meeting, and you had a mystic beast lurk at your beck and call? You will regret double-crossing me, Hamos!” The Olman man cursed at the two merchants with his dry voice.

Jaden suddenly realised who the approaching mystic was. Nerak Taseno, bound to the Drowning Dark. If she revealed herself to be a mystic as well, Nerak would likely try to kill her anyway, to hide the fact that he was working outside the mountain. With Nerak’s spirit being what it was, Jaden realised that this was not a fight she could win. Both she and the Olman man would die, and disappear into the void. Only choice left was to run.

The grey-haired man seemed to have reached the same conclusions as Jaden, and backed away from the now ten foot tall monster of twisting gloom. They began to run in the same direction, away from the approaching darkness and the merchants’ cruel jeers. Their footsteps made a hollow noise as they ran across the floorboards.

“There’s a floor below!” The man called out.

“Won’t that trap us?” Jaden gasped back.

“Smuggler’s place. Old tunnels honeycomb the foundations of this city.”

“Got it!” Jaden checked to see if Nerak was following them. He was. “Back up a bit. Valignat!”

A concentrated blue-hot flame shot out from Jaden’s fist and seared a hole in the floor. Salamander fire burned hotter than most, and made quick work of the wood.

The man gave her a re-evaluating glance, but jumped down into the smouldering hole without missing a beat. The Drowning Dark was almost upon them, and there was no time to second guess their desperate plan.

Jaden landed heavily on the stone floor. Her legs hurt from the fall earlier, and even more so now, but she pushed it aside. It was time to man up. True to the Olman’s words, though, there was a sewer-like tunnel leading off into the dark, connected to this hidden cellar. They immediately pushed on. If it was such a maze down here, it was their best chance to lose their pursuers.

They ran for what felt like forever, but in reality probably only a few minutes. Jaden had to stop, since her left leg hurt too much to go on at this speed. There was a good chance she had sprained something. The man, not old, but definitely middle-aged, was breathing heavily as well. He apparently didn’t do a lot of running in his line of work. As their breaths settled, they listened intently down the tunnel they had come, but heard only drip-drops of water, and the faint whistling of a breeze.

“An interesting day,” the man concluded, once he felt like he could talk again. “I should have known better than to deal with Albander foxes.”

“I’m so sorry for, uh, dropping in on you like that,” Jaden knew the man was likely a criminal as well, but right now they had only each other to get out of this mess.

“If they already had a beast like that, they no doubt planned to use it. You just sped up their betrayal.” He straightened up, almost reaching the top of the tunnel with his sweat-matted hair. “Are you truly a spellguard? That might become useful.”

“Ral Sona company,” she easily lied. “Those two made threatening accusations against my employer.”

“Being more careful in choosing our partners is clearly the lesson of the day,” he said with that dry voice of his. It sounded familiar, now that she thought about it.

Jaden swallowed dryly. Now that she had the chance to look at him closely, she realised who the grey-haired man was. She hadn’t recognised him without his ceremonial robes, and the purple bubble.

“Shall we continue?” He asked, and motioned toward one of the tunnels splitting off from the main one.

The sky above the farm was overcast, but some sunlight trickled through in places. The black speck grew larger as it came closer, and circled the farm once before settling on one of the lower branches on the chestnut tree behind the farmhouse. In the shade under the leaves of the tree were two gravestones, a little worn by the weather, but with the names as clear as the day they were chiselled.

The crow jumped down from the branch onto one of the stones, and a ray of light sent a glimmer off the small silver necklace it carried in its beak. With a flap of its wings, it landed in front of the stone and put the necklace down on the ground. It dug through the fallen leaves from last year, showing a few other glittering pieces hidden by the seasons. Satisfied with the placement of the latest gift, it fluttered its wings once more, and let out a mournful call.