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Cowboys and Wizards
S01E07 - Cold Spring Camping
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Horse led us into the woods to recover the gear from Delilah’s gear mount. Turns out that the white mare was a summoned beast, but Delilah had to provide all the gear for it. One of the differences between a Summoner and a Mage, it turns out. A summoner uses magic to summon the spirit of a creature that once lived. A mage uses magic to create the creature and any accessories. And Horse was created using my own personal life force, my battery, and everything was technically a part of me.
Which explains his attitude, and the fact that he was now costing me 10 battery points per hour to maintain.
My auric sight (1 battery point per minute, ffs) was both a help and a hinderance as we walked through the gloomy woods. I could see every living thing within a 30’ range glowing in a rainbow of colours, greens and golds, an occasional sickly yellow of something diseased, and on one occasion, the luminous red of a rattlesnake danger noodle minding his own business. But if it wasn’t living, it didn’t show up. So I while I was able to easily avoid living branches and roots, bare ground gave off only the faintest of glows indicating that mould or bacteria or something was growing there. It was interesting to see how dead things slowly dissolved in multi-coloured sparks that swirled and danced before vanishing into the aether.
Delilah explained that all life came from the aether and returned to it, that mana and spirit and aether were all intertwined.
We made our way back to my campsite in the deepening twilight. A fantastic aurora filled the sky as the sun sank behind the western mountains, flickering and twisting in pastel blues and pinks. When I asked the name of the mountain range, Delilah told me it was called the Alivada’s. The Humans call it something different, but she didn’t know what. Wendleton was nestled in a small valley and had an agreement with the Dwarf community who mined the mountains for silver, gold, pitchblende, and other ores. Dwarves are a thing. I wonder if their women have beards?
The rabbit was a total loss. Good thing I still had some in inventory.
I processed three more wolf corpses on our trip back to the camp site and rekindled the fire once we arrived. The rabbit was charcoal, so it got tossed and replaced. I added more yellow sage to the fire and the sweet smoke was soon joined with the scent of roasting rabbit. Delilah and I washed up at the pool, wiping away the blood and sweat and soot that covered us. I swippety-swapped into my clean labourer outfit, which provoked a raised eyebrow from the elf woman.
“It’s a psychic thing,” I half-lied, since it was now a 25 battery point change. “I can summon clothing. It also cleans them.”
“You’re naked when it happens.”
“Ah. Well… I didn’t know that. No one ever told me.”
I had assumed that everyone could see the indigo sparks that surrounded me when the swap occurred. I found a spot near the fire and tended the meat in embarrassed silence. It’s not that I care about being seen naked, I’m not a prude or an exhibitionist, but I felt like I was making a million little mistakes and being judged. Being discovered. That’s what was bothering me. I had left behind my old world just a few hours ago and had zero regrets, none whatsoever, but I was going to have to work hard to fit in here. If current events back on earth had taught me one thing, it was that foreigners were often hated for no reason except the fact that they were not locals.
I had never cooked skewered meat over a campfire, but Cowboy instinct seemed to include some basic cooking skills. Foraging skills too, because when I thought about making a wolf stew I had visions of roots and vegetables that I could search for in the surrounding environ. Spices as well, because an impression of black-stick pepper presented itself in my mind, and I resolved to locate one of the bushes when opportunity presented itself. When the rabbit was done, I pulled the small box of spices from Horses inventory and added some salt and pepper, then passed it to Delilah.
Delilah broke the silence. “Thank you for sharing your salt,” she said gravely, giving me the impression that it was an important gesture. “You asked for information about this country. What would you would know?”
“Everything,” I answered, grateful for the opening. “Stuff that a tourist would need to know. Important laws, who’s in charge, people and places to avoid, stuff like that.”
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“What is a tour-ist?”
“Someone who visits foreign lands,” I said, rubbing my earlobe as I tried to explain the concept. “Someone who travels to learn about the people and culture of a different land? A person who seeks experiences in distant places?”
“I have never heard of such a thing,” Delilah declared. “Are you an Adventurer?”
“Of a sort, I suppose” I shrugged. “I’m a bit lost at the moment, but I was heading to Wendleton to maybe find some work.”
She nodded her head in thought. “Wendleton is a mixed city, elves, dwarves, and most other races are welcome there. Some humans cause trouble, like the priests of Dolum who preach that other races are impure, but they are a minority.”
“Avoid the Dolumites, got it.”
“The city guard is mostly free from corruption,” she continued. “I’ve never been overcharged or had to bribe one to enter the walls. The mercenary guild is small, but Colonial Haddock runs it fairly and offers good prices for magical salvage. They are very harsh with those they find selling on the black market. ”
A familiar moon came out while we talked. If I’m in another world, it has the same moon as Earth. Our conversation continued for another hour and I learned as much as I could about Aerth, the very real gods that existed, the country of Pacifica that was ruled by various English nobility, the country of Colonia which sounded like America, and a bit about elf and dwarf culture.
I had a sudden thought. “Hey, are there any beast people here?”
“Beast people?”
“People that are half-human, half animal. Like cat people with cat ears and tails?”
She looked at me like I had grown another head. “Weres can change between human and their spirit form. Some can only shift part way and look as you described. They are mistrusted and live in villages outside human cities.”
“Weres?” I asked. “Lycanthropes? Like werewolves?”
“There are were-wolves,” Delilah explained. “And other were-people. It is said they were cursed by the goddess Basti for some heresy and cast out into the wilderness, each taking the form of their inner beast. It is said they steal infants because they cannot have children of their own. I do not know.”
Not sure if I should be happy or sad that there would be no cat-girl cafes in this world.
“I’ll set a watch for the night,” Delilah said after I stifled my third yawn.
Pulling out a small owl totem from another bag at her waist, she held it close to her lips and began whispering to it. I switched on my auric vision and watched as golden motes of light swirled around the totem and then coalesced into a large barn owl that flew off to perch on the boulders. The owl was like Horse, nothing but a shell with a complex glowing vortex inside. A nearly invisible silver thread ran from the owl to the totem and I reached out, grabbing at it between my fingers. It passed through my fingers like I didn’t exist. Concentrating on the glowing aura that surrounded my fingers like a glove, I managed to catch it.
It vibrated ever so slightly in my grip, and I could feel the faint presence of another mind. Concentrating, I focused and it became louder, clearer, more ‘solid’ for the lack of a better term. I could feel a compact spark of thoughts, and I poked at it. A burst of outrage and anger flooded my consciousness. The owl screeched at me from the boulder and launched itself at my head. I threw my hands over my face and rolled in the dirt to avoid talons to the face. It circled around with another screech before Delilah called it off with an angry bark. It landed on her outstretched forearm and she soothed its ruffled feathers with her other hand.
“What did you do?” she demanded.
“There was a silver thread that stretched from the figurine to the owl, so I grabbed it,” I said, dusting myself off. “I didn’t expect… Hell, I don’t know what I expected. I was curious.”
“You upset Beatale.” She said, sending her familiar back to the boulders. “She thinks you were trying to unbind her.”
“I don’t know what I was doing,” I admitted. “I could sense something, like a distant conversation, and followed it along the thread. I’m sorry if I upset your owl, I didn’t mean to.”
“You could have released her binding, sent her spirit into the aether to dissolve into nothing.” She lectured. “Do you understand now why people mistrust psychics?”
“I understand,” I said, not really grasping the full implications. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“I will leave in the morning,” Delilah said, rolling up in her blankets. “Beatale will keep watch.”
Another mistake. I banked the fire and glanced into the golden eyes of the owl before I slunk into my makeshift tent.
-= NOTES =-
[CAST]
Vincent J. Carter
Horse
[PLACES]
Cold spring
Wendleton
Avladia mountain range
[PEOPLE]
Delilah Silverwood
[OTHERS]
Mr. Chewie Face
Beatale
Colonial Haddock
-=- PERSONAL -=-
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