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BRIARETH
I fold my hands on the table in front of me, studying the three new arrivals and trying to pay attention as Adamar describes their journey here. We’re in Mattias’s sitting room, a place of warm colors, bright wall hangings, and plush, deep couches. The owner himself is busily scrawling away in a giant leather bound book, presumably noting down everything Adamar is saying. I suspect he’s actually doodling though, I peeked over his shoulder earlier and saw a very nice rendition of Adamar, long golden curls drifting over his shoulder and onto his chocolate brown cloak, glasses perched high up on his nose, and his nicely sharpened cheekbones featuring prominently on his face. Mattias even added the whimsical embroidery in silver thread of the Erhorn crest that dotted the edges of Adamars cloak and his shirtsleeves. All in all, despite the reported months of travel he had to endure, Adamar seems to have pulled off a trick that I only thought Faladel was capable of, looking pristine no matter what happens. Valkallyn and Folas both look distinctly worse after all the exploits they took to get here, and are entirely confused by the fact that it’s been only a fortnight for us instead of months since we sent the call. Silv and Fin are playing cards in the corner, and although I want to join them, I get the feeling that Adamar’s story might change our plans quite a lot. I’d feel guilty not getting the entire context and leaving the whole re-planning thing to Faladel. He and Elen certainly aren’t having the same problems I have concentrating though. He paces the room, deep in thought. Elen just sits in place on her wooden rocking chair, almost completely still as she studies Adamar over her steaming mug of some sort of cider. It smells wonderful. Like cinnamon and nutmeg. And it is entirely too distracting. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t had lunch yet, and Adamar has been talking for quite some time.
I turn my eyes back to him, trying to listen but getting distracted by the way the lamplight reflects off his glasses and how his blue eyes sparkle behind them with earnestness as he speaks. So earnest I almost don’t notice when he’s done. Almost.
“So your magic barely still works, someone stole the magic, dragon corrupting scales from Anostia, and now we have this mysterious figure who we still don’t know the identity of running loose in the city, or worse, running back to Chairholder Helios-Lime III with it.” I summarize, and Faladel groans. “Hey, it could be worse.” I console him. “Someone could have died. At least our friends all arrived in one piece.” In the distance I hear the rumble of thunder. A storm?
“Well, yes, Briareth. ” Faladel stares at me, “It could always be worse, and I’m glad our friends arrived safely.” I get the distinct feeling that my consolation did little to help. Then Faladel’s gaze flips over to Adamar, and I let out a brief sigh of relief. “But this means we have someone to break down the enchantments, but we don’t have either of the strange artifacts. We need to get them, and fast. I’m glad you’re here Adamar because we’ll definitely need more people if we’re trying to comb the entire city.”
Folas raises his hand, and I grin at him from my cozy velvet chair. “This isn’t a classroom Folas, have you been in school so long it rattled your brains? Speak freely!”
“I think we should go after the artifact affecting the magic first. It’s seriously annoying to be hampered like this.” He stands up and starts pacing. “I can’t cast any spells, I can’t even feel my magic! It makes me feel… almost useless.” A dark look crosses over his face, and sympathy aches through my heart.
“At least you have dad’s sword training to fall back on.” Valkallyn stares at her nails glumly. “All I’ve got is brawling experience.” I snort-laugh as Folas spins on her.
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“At least you’re good at brawling! Despite lessons, I’m patently terrible with the sword!” He retorts, spouting a bickering match between the twins over which skill, punching or stabbing, is more useless when it comes to dragons bigger than most houses. I watch as Adamar just sighs,
Silv looks up from her game. “I honestly don’t see why this development would change anything.” She tosses into the ring, her pronouncement cutting through the chaos and straight to the heart of the matter. Adamar and I turn to look at her, and even Faladel looks up from his worried pacing.
“We still need a group to go retrieve the scales, and another one to hunt down whatever is making everyone sick. Yesterday we had said that either Faladel or I should be on the latter team since we aren’t affected by the strange item. And we can’t go alone, we should have at least one helper in case it is guarded by something. Perhaps some sort of trap, or a creature that isn’t made sick by its presence.”
“I should go.” Faladel turns to her, green eyes set and mouth firm. “You’re the captain. It would be unwise to separate you from your crewmates. You all have been trained to fight together, to work synchronously. Your boat is fast enough to run down our mysterious artifact thief, far faster than we’d be on our own feet anyway. You should hunt the scales, and I should go find whatever is corrupting magic.”
“In that case, I should go with you!” I brace against the armrests and yank myself out of the all-encompassing sinkhole of coziness that is Mattias’s chairs. Faladel opens his mouth to protest, but I’ve worked with him for so long that I can predict his argument. “We work well together, we’ve been together through thick and thin. Besides, I’m the only one who has actually seen this artifact. Even if it does make me pass out sometimes, we can use me as a detector of sorts. I’ll be the first to notice when we’re getting close. My symptoms will increase with proximity, and I’ll recognize it.” Faladel frowns, but nods, acknowledging my point. But I don’t stop. “If they have to cover the whole city, I think Adamar, Valkallyn, and Folas should stay with Silv, Fin, and Elen. They’ll need the help of a few extra sets of eyes.”
The rumbles strike again, shaking the Citadel of Travelers ever so slightly. Mattias glances up from his book, a frown creasing his lips as he stares at the ceiling above us. His strange featherless, white wings, draped neatly over the edge of his seat, flutter slightly.
“Are we all agreed?” Faladel asks, looking around our large group. Folas and Valkallyn nod, Adamar hesitates slightly.
“Bring that magic disruptor back quickly please, I want it gone as soon as possible. I don’t like having my magic weakened.” He relents.
Silv stares at Faladel and I, still not entirely convinced that we should go off alone, but unable to figure a way she can come with us. Eventually, she nods as well. Fin and Elen follow in her footsteps and we all stand there for a bit.
“Anyone got any spare blood?” Mattias asks into our silence. All eyes turn to him. Only now do I realize the white Kashan has been silent this entire time.
“What?!” Fin asks, completely horrified by the request. “You-You can’t mean to–”
“Whoa whoa, it’s not what you’re thinking!” Mattias flashes his fangs in a frankly, not reassuring grin as he holds up his hands in a defensive gesture, quill from his hat clutched between two fingers. “I just ran out of red ink, and need to finish coloring this in. I don’t want to go out into the city right now, for obvious reasons, and blood would be the perfect hue.”
I glance over, he’s finished his drawing and it is way more impressive than a single doodle. He’s drawn us all in his living room, some sitting and some standing, in bright vivid detail. Suddenly the tower shakes again, wind howling as it buffets the few high up windows in the tall room. Rumbles echo all the way down through the stones and shake the floor. A high shriek splits my ears as the rumbles continue to rock the stone floor. Frowning Mattias unfolds himself from his seat. “I don’t like the sound of that.” His voice is calm, steady, despite his next words. “I’ve never heard a storm whose thunder doesn’t end.”
Suddenly though, it does.