Of course, I’m not invited to go see the Chronicler. Faladel says I’m too sick, and should stay in bed. However, with Anostia’s help, I’m one of the first to see him arrive at Fin’s family home. We sit in the high belltower, eating cookies and watching him approach, a disguised Fin and another Kashan in his family escorting the flamboyant Chronicler. He wears the same snowy white hat as last time, and as I peer through a delightful set of lenses that make him appear quite close, I can make out a ruby pendant that has been added to his spectacle of red, black and white robes. Anostia gasps, and snatches the lenses out of my hands. “You never said the Chronicler was a cursed Kashan!”

“Cursed?” I blink in the bright afternoon light, trying to adjust my perspectives now that he’s far away again.

“That coloring is unmistakable! He’s the Ghost Kashan!” She announces, peering at him through the lenses as he draws closer to the run down house. “People say his whole family is cursed, that’s why they’re all white!”

“You sure it’s not just how family members all share the same traits?” I interject, “Pale skin seems to be common among Kashans, I’m sure white hair can appear in families too.” I snag another cookie while she’s distracted. For someone who only needs to drink blood, she sure eats a lot of cookies. “He doesn’t appear cursed to me. His coloring doesn’t seem to affect his job at any rate.”

She gasps, and jerks back from the lenses suddenly, her normally pale cheeks slightly pinked. “He winked at me!” She exclaims, “Definitely cursed! No normal Kashan could see us up here!!” I make a grab for the lens, wanting to confirm her story, but by the time I get my hands on them, he’s already inside.

Anostia and I scramble down from the belltower, barely managing to not get caught by one of the few mechanical servants Fin’s family enjoys. We rush around the back corridors and finally arrive, gasping, at my room. Nobody else is here yet, and I shoo her away before they come. We’re not supposed to be in contact after all. I straighten myself up and even my breathing as I go into my room. It’s insane how much stamina that kid has. Or perhaps I’m just out of shape.

It isn’t long before I get two visitors. One, the Chronicler Mattias, and another– a Tadhiel who I don’t know. I didn’t see him arrive, perhaps he came in after Mattias?

“I told you this would be worth it!” Mattias declares to the Tadhiel as they step inside. “Isn’t this intriguing? I’m sure the cases here and in the more populated sections in West Light are related. Elen Nerifaren is reporting the exact same symptoms and inability to treat them that plagues the suburbs and the slums!”

“Hmmm…” The Tadhiel– a less than jolly looking man with long wavy brown hair and a form fitting white coat that contains slits in the back for his wings –raises his eyebrows as he observes me sitting on the bed. “He doesn’t look like a murderer, and even less like a sick man.”

“As the young lady said.” Mattias ushers Elen in. “constant headaches, coughing up blood, nothing too bad as of yet. You said you’ve witnessed worse cases?”

“Passing out, a complete loss of reading abilities, the worst just fall asleep one day, and never wake up.” The Tadhiel says grimly. “Have you tested his reading?” He looks at Elen who startles noticeably.

“I-I I’m not sure he could read in the first place, Doctor Alen.” Elen stutters, not sure what to do when put on the spot. “He isn’t from our world after all, and I never thought to check him.”

Mattias’s look bounces from the medical expert to the ships’ medic, and then back again, before finally settling on me. “Briareth, has your magic been acting wonky by any means? Have you tried to cast any sort of spells recently?”

I blink at him, at all of them, as their attention focuses on me. I reach for my magic, intending to cast a simple orb of light out into the air. It’s the easiest spell I know, it barely requires any effort or concentration. But it doesn’t work. Where my magic should be, there’s nothing. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it earlier! I feel slightly empty, almost lost, is this how Faladel feels all the time? It’s awful… like one of my senses has died.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Doctor Alen asks gruffly. “Magic? What nonsense are you yabbering about, Mattias?”

“It’s not nonsense,” Elen defends me, “He can turn saltwater sweet! I’ve seen it with my own eyes, but he has mentioned it’s been acting up ever since he arrived.”

“It’s gone now.” I break in, finding my chance. “I just tried a simple spell, nothing happened.“

“Completely gone?” Mattias presses, and I nod. “When did you last try to use it? I mean, before the test just now.”

I shrug, not knowing the answer. “It wasn’t working right when I was escaping the Dragons’ Nest, I don’t recall trying to use it after that.”

He sighs. “Well, good news first.” He laces his long, silver-ringed fingers together. “That almost confirms that your magic is highly similar to our ability to read. Bad news, either your magic is more heavily affected by whatever disease is going around, or you’re a lot further along in the disease than your symptoms would suggest.”

“I have already passed out once.” I confirm, looking at Doctor Alen “Elen, did you already tell him–”

“They already know all about our trips to the Dragons’ Nest, that weird cave, and how impossible it would have been for us to commit the murders.” Elen smiles at me. “I gave them a brief rundown to explain things.”

“I never doubted you all.” Mattias claims, waving a hand in the air, as if murder charges were as easy to shoo off as flies.

“Then why didn’t you speak up?” I ask him, honestly curious.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Politics my good sir! The narrative has already been decided– elves are evil, and they mean to take down the entire government. Without evidence or at least firsthand accounts, I can’t go against the narrative of the time. I can’t afford to be more of an outcast than I already am, you understand, right?” He widens his bright crimson eyes apologetically. I can’t help but chuckle as he flashes one of them at me in a wink. Serious or silly, his argument makes sense. I like him. Elen doesn’t seem to feel the same. “I understand if you don’t trust me.” He turns to meet her unhappy frown and lifts his broad-brimmed hat to smooth his fingers through his thick white locks. “But I do have valuable information for you. You can at least trust that, no?” A bit of fang flashes in the smile he shoots her.

“You shouldn’t fall for his trickery, he just wants to hear the next part of an interesting story.” Doctor Alen says gruffly.

“You just want to be the first to solve this medical riddle.” Mattias retorts hotly.

Faladel interrupts their squabbling by knocking on the already open door. “I believe we all have things to discuss, gentlemen?” He conveniently breaks in. Elen looks at him gratefully, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I suddenly remember that I never did get to tease him about all the fine young elven ladies at that ball who were so sad at his leaving. Although that scenario has long since passed, perhaps a new one has arisen? I reach out a hand to my bedside table, and take a swig out of the cup placed on it. I gag, Elen’s latest concoction tastes terrible. I’m still making faces at the putrid flavor as everyone finishes leaving my room and Anostia pokes her head through the secret door.

“You have magic?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Had.” I spit, still contourting my mouth to try and get rid of the taste. She offers me some water, and I drink it gratefully. “So, what are they here for? Besides stories and medical discoveries.” She asks, making her way to sit beside me on the bed. I explain everything to her, and she nods, wisely. “So one weird artifact was gone, but they left this one behind?” She pulls a very large set of familiar silver and ruby scales out of her bag.

My water spews all the way across the room, hitting the secret door. “Where did you get that?!” I shout at her, wiping my chin so the water doesn’t drip.

“Snagged it from your blond friend’s bag.” She says, referring to Faladel. “It certainly doesn’t look like much.” She holds it up, and the rubies sparkle and wink in the light.

“You really shouldn’t be messing with that, you know.” I scold her, snatching the scales. “It turned a dragon evil! And then drove him mad!” Faladel, the crew and I have worked out a system where nobody holds onto it for more than a day, just in case it can corrupt people too, but… “I’d really hate to see you turn evil.”

“I wouldn’t!” Anostia proclaims. “And I’ll keep it from the evil dragons when they come for it!”

I chuckle, “Sure you would. But before I can entrust it with you, I have to make sure you won’t fall prey to it. So, your task is to go return it to Faladel’s bag, without him realizing it was ever gone, alright?” She pouts at me, not sure of my sincerity. I grin at her, “What, can’t the Great Anostia even accomplish this tiny feat? Is her greed so great that it consumes not just red velvet cookies, but also magical artifacts?”

“No!” Anostia proclaims instantly enamored by the game. “I, the Great Anostia, will not fall prey to the wiles of this strange metal object! I will return it with no one the wiser!”

“Thatta girl!” I cheer as she hops off the bed and heads out. I give her five minutes, and then follow her into the secret tunnel, taking a different path down the hidden corridors that line this old stone manor, and head towards a meeting room. Matriarch Niech sits at a large table there, along with the new Tadhiel- doctor Alen, Faladel, Silv, and Elen. There isn’t a seat left for Mattias, but he seems perfectly content sitting cross legged on a tall kitchen stool. Nobody else, not even the mechanical servants, are in the room. I suspect this is a secret meeting.

Elen coughs, a thick junky cough, but it quickly stops, and she waves off doctor Alen when he looks over worriedly. “You’re sick.” He says, and it’s more of an accusation than a expression of worry.

She shrugs helplessly. “I can’t read my notes from two weeks ago, I only just figured it out when you listed symptoms you noticed. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the other’s here, so I just thought it was a cold, or seasonal allergies.” She looks miserable. “To think I was a carrier!”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Mattias says blandly. “I suspect from what you have been telling me there is more to this disease than simple transmission. Doctor Alen, have any of your patients been unable to read at all– before they got sick I mean?”

The Doctor blinks. “No, but what does that have to do with–”

“Did those that can read best progress quickest with the disease?” Mattias interrupts, smiling. All eyes, including my own from behind the stone, follow the two across the table.

It takes a minute for the Tadhiel to think about it, but eventually his wings rise as he admits. “Yes, I believe they did. Are you suggesting there is a correlation between reading and disease progression? That the illness is somehow feeding on the literacy?”

“Something like that.” The Chronicler grins, fully enjoying himself now. “And, if you would but allow me to posit something even more ridiculous?”

“Go ahead.” The doctor grumbles. “It’s not like I can stop you anyhow.”

Mattias stretches, and gets up from his seat, his bardic urge for showmanship not allowing him to continue sitting. “First instance of symptoms:” He strides down the table, over to the matriarch, listing things off on his finger, “Briareth can’t do magic reliably once he arrives in our world. These symptoms are steady, but not terrible. Perhaps it is something to do with differences betwixt here and his home world, perhaps it is nothing.” He shrugs easily, denying any seriousness of the effect. “But then” his voice heightens his unnatural white featherless wings spread. “Things get worse. He heads to a mysterious cavern, finds a stranger messing around with a strange device. Suddenly, he is coughing up blood and fainting all over the place. Headaches abound. He goes back to the chairholder’s palace, and it all fades away, like a bad dream.” Again he shrugs, and begins circling the table, wings folded neatly to his back. “The friends head out again, trying to uncover the mysteries of this Nest of Dragons, and when they get there, the cavern is empty. Some in the group suffer headaches, some don’t. Nobody is coughing blood or passing out. The danger here is gone.” I see Faladel’s eyes, all the way across the room, widen slightly as he recognizes the conclusion Mattias is drawing. He saw it earlier, but Mattias goes a step further. “But meanwhile, back in The Light– in it’s western portion specifically– which includes this delightful home– people start experiencing the same symptoms. Those with the best education, the highest literacy, with the most remaining magic in their systems, start to drop left and right!”

He raises his hands. “The conclusion is obvious my friends. That person, that artifact that caused all this, is–”

I leap back from my crack in the wall as something slams into it, nearly banging my head on the coat rack attached to the stone behind me. I immediately hurry over to the crack, the door has bounced off it from the recoil of being thrown open. “Matriarch Niech!” Cries an unfamiliar hoarse voice. Clearly the owner has been coughing a lot. I peer through the crack again and see an unfamiliar Kashan, disheveled and wet from rain. “I’m so sorry to disturb your private meeting!” He says, dropping a quick apologetic bow to the Matriarch to appease her furious glare. “But we have guards approaching! And they look like they mean business!”

“Come on, I was just getting to the good part!” Mattias complains to the stunned crowd.