“The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.”
- Daniel J. Boorstin
The night was moonlit, but the broken cloud cover made it difficult to see much further than a few dozen yards.
Vanessa went first, then Mireille, and last Alyssa with Cyrus.
They kept to ridges and boulders, circumvented the open fields. On the wall of the fortress braziers burned against darkness and chill, some soldiers were seen moving but none were especially vigilant. They were not meant to guard against lone people on foot, what could they smuggle? A haversack full of goods perhaps?
Nearing the fortress at the narrow part of the pass they could identify the heraldry: There were the towers of Margrinar, then there was a mountain with a crown reminiscent of sun rays, the county of the gilded summit. The walls were made with large blocks of chiseled stone, skillfully fitted to one another, most likely the work of dwarfen masons. Men did not often have the patience for perfectionism in such grand works. Sigils were worked into the parapet, Asandria appraised them for a long time, then flew on, shaking her head in derision.
Then they were past the walls, and technically no longer in Rivenlorn. Alyssa had the feeling of some weight she did not realize she carried loosening.
The vampire girl looked incongruous in the much too large clothing, arms with the sleeves rolled up but she glided like a ghost through the night.
Alyssa always had had good night vision, perhaps because of that ‘old blood’ Asandria mentioned and so did not have any problems, Mireille had to stop and orient herself sometimes.
They were sad to leave the horses even if the pain of riding for the first time was something she never wanted to experience again.
The descent loomed before them in the darkness, the road winding between the lower peaks, clouds hanging on the branches of crippled-looking trees. The moon shone on them from above, the lost eye seemed overly large and clear.
They began to climb down to gain some distance to the fort before the night ran out. Alyssa was stumbling with fatigue, completely tired, and sleep-deprived. Mireille was somewhat used to this after months of boot camp and so helped her along, keeping her right hand on her upper arm.
Vanessa appeared before them, eyes reflecting the moonlight with a slight greenish sheen. “We can camp here. There is a suitable location just ahead. I would have wished to gain a bit more distance, but becoming careless and falling down the mountain would be worse.” The last was said with the merest hint of a smile. “You did well, all in all.”
As they reached the turn in the road they laid down their bedrolls and cloaks, trying to preserve as much warmth as possible, and huddled together until sleep claimed them. The vampire girl sat at the edge of the cliff beside the road, legs dangling. Fir trees reached up from deep beneath her, the cliff falling some hundreds of yards to where the trees were carpeting the side of the mountain. The road was only dimly lit after the moon had set, a cold grey band winding between the craggy rocks.
Mireille woke slowly to the sensation of a hand gently shaking her shoulder. “Please let me sleep a bit longer.”
“Did that ever work?” The voice of Vanessa came from the encompassing darkness just before dawn, the cloud cover did not even allow for starlight.
“Let me think.” And with that Mireille was sufficiently awake. “Ah damn. You have to go I gather?”
“Yes, we are on the east side of the mountains, dawn and it's light will reach us a lot earlier.”
“Never thought about that.” Mireille rubbed her eyes. “Take care and don’t go too far, don’t accept food from strangers.”
Vanessa looked at her as if she had grown another head. “What are you talking about exactly?”
“Ah, it's nothing, don’t take it to heart! If I don’t make a joke when needed I might be seriously ill, near death actually. So take it as a good sign.”
Sighing in exasperation Vanessa stood up dusted off her too-big clothes and vanished, just like that.
“I will never get used to that. Now I have the company of a ghost I can't see or hear, a wyvern who would rather bite me and my companion should sleep as long as possible. And it's still dark so I don’t see a thing. Boooring.”
She snuggled back into the bedroll, agitating the wyvern who nipped at her but at last got hold of Alyssa. Trying to stay awake was an uphill battle, which she only managed due to the wyvern who sometimes scratched her if she hugged Alyssa too close.
In this way the first hint of grey appeared on the horizon, and being well-positioned, she could see the light climbing higher, the land that slowly revealed itself being mostly foothills and lesser mountains, densely forested and with few signs of habitation.
Farther away on the outskirts of the mountains, the forest was broken up by farmland and small rivers alongside which could be seen some small towns and villages. Still not densely populated but much more in the way of civilization than the other side of the mountain range.
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As the sun was good and truly risen, Mireille had had enough. “Alyssa. Hey sleepyhead. Wake up!”
Mumbling in her sleep the subject in question hid deeper in the bedroll. “Time for harsher measures.” And with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she began to tickle her unfortunate friend. “Ah. Stop!” Alyssa still laughing, scrambled out of the covers, the wyvern hopping clear of the commotion with an angry shriek. “What are you..!?"
“You did not want to wake, and it is morning already.” Mireille looked a tiny bit guilty as she said that. “Let's get a bite to eat and at least it's downhill travel all the way.”
Alyssa felt a headache coming on. “Ok, let's do that. But no tickling. Ever!”
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They ate some bread and dry crumbly cheese before getting ready to leave.
“Did Vanessa say anything?” Alyssa asked.
“No, she woke me up and then left, saying something about dawn being earlier on this side of the mountains.”
“Makes sense. Then let's get going, at least moving will keep us warm.”
The next hours were spent walking down the mountain road, near midday they came upon a small spring welling from the cliffside, flowing through a carved channel bridged with some rough-cut planks. There they took a short rest ate a bit and replenished their water supplies.
“Brr. The water here is cold enough that I am wondering why it is not frozen!” Mireille shuddered.
“I could warm it up for you?” Alyssa thought while looking at a small pot they had ‘liberated’ from Christina and company. “Here have a drink of that.” She proffered a flask made of dull grey metal. “I found it among their supplies. It is a potion made of healing herbs but more for strengthening purposes. It keeps illness away and gives more endurance.”
“Why did we not drink this yesterday? I was absolutely exhausted.”
“I had not managed to identify it in time and now that I have, it would only go to waste.” She sniffed at the open flask before taking a deep swallow. “Looks like it has been brewed around the new year in mid-winter. High time to use it. Without magic to stabilize it, it will go bad within a month I think.”
Mireille also drank a bit. “Pft. That tastes as bad as it sounded healthy. But whatever.” Drinking water to cleanse her palate she then washed up and they set off again.
In the afternoon they met a caravan of mules accompanied by some hardy looking men, some of which bore the livery of Margrinar and the Gilded Summit, the barony they found themselves in.
“Hello, travelers. How is the road ahead?” One of the soldiers, a jovial-looking older man with dark brown hair, called out to them as they pressed themselves to the rockface to make way.
“The road is free and without troubles. The weather left it a bit wet in places but that is all. I wish you safe travels!” Alyssa answered politely.
The soldier let the mules pass him by and stood near the two of them. “Might you be a magician? That's some strange beastie you have with you, looks like a miniature wyvern if you ask me. No offense meant.”
“None taken, you are actually right, it is my familiar a very young wyvern.”
“Ah, that explains it. But hopefully, you know what you are doing, wyverns can be right vicious and without much provocation too. What brings you to this side of the mountain?”
“We are traveling for Kronenburg, hopefully, to enroll at the magical academy there. I have a letter of recommendation, and my sister here is keeping me company on the way.”
Mireille's look as she was declared a sibling promised mischief for later, but she willingly nodded. “That's right. My sister is a true-bred academic, if left alone in the wilderness she would starve to death underneath an apple tree.”
Now it was Alyssa's turn to throw a reproachful glance at her friend.
The soldier laughed. “You seem to get along well. That's something to be cherished. I wish you well and safe travels. Take care to join a caravan or some such, the woods around here are not that safe anymore, rumors of bandits are making the rounds. Be well!”
With those parting words, he waved while turning and hastened after the receding caravan.
“Did you learn any more offensive magic?” Mireille asked conversationally.
“I learned not to damage myself as much with my necromancy.” Answered Alyssa. “It's more difficult than I thought and much slower going, but it is the difference between wildly swinging a weapon and using it as intended. It's rewarding in a way and much safer for me and everyone but my target. I always saw that side of myself as flawed or a curse. Learning to apply that in a useful way makes me happy.”
“Let me guess. This black mist thing you did was the equivalent of you swinging around a battle axe with eyes closed. I am glad that I did not know at the time!”
“It was not that bad!” Alyssa hit Mireille on the shoulder.
“Hey, I am going to get calluses on that shoulder severely damaging my beauty! Will you take responsibility for me when I can no longer get married?” She stuck out her tongue.
“There is no talking to you!”
They bickered a bit but were soon too tired by the exhausting march and then walked on in silence. The mountain air did its own in sapping their strength so they took a rest as they arrived at a high plateau that was overlooking a narrow valley a mountain creek rushed down through the rocky cleft for the lowlands.
“Here have another swig of the potion. I think we would need to gain some more distance before we can rest safely. If those soldiers talk about us someone might realize that no one has seen us coming into the toll station.” Alyssa said, holding out the flask.
“Once more unto the breach!” Mireille grabbed the flask and drank a healthy amount. “Blech. You are an apothecary, arent you? I challenge you to improve the recipe so that normal people can drink this without pain!”
Smiling, Alyssa drank her share. Resting a bit they picked up the pace, having regained their stamina.
And come evening they were in the foothills, having left the slope of the mountain behind.
Luck was with them and they found a storm shelter. Probably built for the caravans supplying the fort. No one was in residence so that they could rest if not in comfort at least dry and reasonably warm. It was still early autumn and the weather was still mild, with some short-lived rain showers, but in the mountains, the temperature fell unpleasantly especially in the evening.
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And with the darkness…
Vanessa appeared as if by magic, which to be honest, it probably was. Suddenly she stood near the bedrolls.
“Ah!” Mireille jumped a bit in fright. “I will never get used to this.”
“Mae g’ovannen. I hope the hour finds you well.” Vanessa nodded in greeting.
“It's good to see you again.” Alyssa smiled in her direction.
“Yes, good evening,” Mireille said a bit gracelessly, sitting down.
Vanessa sat down and gestured, glyphs and diagrams appeared on the open ground.
“That should keep you busy.” Nodding towards Alyssa she then turned to Mireille.
“So. The energetic one.” Sounding much too mature for her small stature and sounding like a girl too, it was somewhat incongruous. “I will explain to you the intricacies of using a preformed soul formula, what you call a branding.”
And she went on to explain in more detail.
The brand was able to accept magical energy with more nuance than she and her trainer in the army had thought possible, it was, for example, possible to channel energy into her sigil of Stormhaste for a much longer time while not using it to the fullest, making it more useful for prolonged fights. The sergeant, back in another life it seemed, had explained that some could modify their spells, but this went a lot farther.
A lightning bolt could be channeled into a weapon or even her fists giving a serious jolt when hitting an opponent, there was even the possibility of forming a weapon out of living lightning. It was also possible to train the mana capacity of the branded, making them able to last longer and use the spells to greater effect.
And the combination of different abilities was specifically intended by the unknown creator of her brand so it was only limited by her ability.
The shield that she had so far neglected was formed in a way that a reflexive activation seemed possible, incorporating it into a combat style was probably intended.
But the reality of it was still far away.
There seemed to be smoke coming out of her ears as Mireille sat slumped over.
“Please pay attention. Our time together is limited by your physical shortcomings and need to sleep!”
“Yes, I am absolutely attentive. Could we perhaps do some live demonstration? I think I am better with physical things?”
Vanessa mused and then concurred. The rest of the evening was punctuated by bursts of lightning and subdued cursing coming from Mireille. Thankfully they took the training outside.
Later in the evening she was awoken by Asandria softly tousling her hair. ‘Don't sleep with your face in the diagram. I don’t know if something could possibly activate them. The effect would most likely not be as intended.’
Mireille did last only a little longer and both of them slept without dreams, exhaustion stealing even that.