Chapter 2

Answers

Lo-eel sat at his desk with a quill in hand, fresh ink dripping onto the empty sheet of paper. He cursed quietly, then idiotically tried to wipe it away, only to cause a large smear. He cursed more to himself then stood, pacing around his room with a hand to his forehead. He was expected to have answers, ones he didn't have and knew he never would. But it was either come up with answers, or reasons as to why they shouldn't throw him the Gulfpit.

Stuttering and stammering to himself, he took a long sip from his cherrywine bottle. It was nearly empty, which made him blink absently. He was acting far too much like his sister, who had little to no struggles or responsibilities. At least he had a reason to drink, unlike her.

"Maybe you just need a fresh perspective? Perhaps the Monkmages can-"

"Damnit, no! I need someone who actually knows what they are talking about. Not just some visionary monk who can read the weather." Lo-eel spat at his partner. Someone who he loved dearly but had yet to marry as her father forbade it. Regardless, they acted married as any other. Constant pickering and yammering followed by a slew of compliments and explanations of love. But for now, it was his pent up rage against her unyielding need for resolvement.

"Lo, dear. We can't keep going in circles like this. If there is nothing to it, then there is nothing to it! Plain and simple. It might not be what they want to hear, but it's what they need to hear." Kyie said with a somber smile. She sat on a chair in the corner of his chambers. He had a large enough chamber that it fit several bookshelves and a table for study. The shelves were filled with books of all nature, though mostly about magic and its properties.

"The most damning part is that it didn't even bother to happen on a eclipse, like all other Conductors. Besides, the eclipse only adds magical properties to pre-existing objects or creatures,it doesn't create new objects to instill with properties! And Goldbaron Byib swears on his life the thing hadn't been there until that day. Oh, not to mention, that neither I or any other Conduits could sense any properties. So it isn't inherently magic, not by nature or by the result of a Conduit." Most of what he said sounded like nothing but gibberish to poor Kyie. But she could tell from the sweat beaming from his forehead that he was more upset than he had ever been since she'd known him. He was often a much more calm and less temperamental man, but the recent months had weighed on him heavier than the passing of his own father.

"Are you positive every Conduit on the island has tried?" She asked, helplessly. Lo-eel looked at her with a mad expression, but once he saw the tender look in her eyes, he quickly caught the words before they could escape. The energy built up in him quickly released through a deep sigh, and he slowly slid down into his chair, rubbing his eyes.

"Every last one of them, Kyie. They all said the same thing. It's just a slab of stone."

"Then what more do they expect from you? How can they even bother asking for answers?"

"Because, Kyie! It isn't normal for random objects to simply appear inside of secure vaults! The ground beneath it was clean, as if it had been there for years. How could no one have noticed it until now? No, there is more to this. I know it. I just need more time to study it." He turned back to his desk, and began to scribble away madly at a new page in his journal.

"Have you considered this may be a test?" Kyie said suddenly, which made the dashings of his quill come to a halt. Subtly, he looked over his shoulder and blinked.

"For me? Or for the Conduits as a whole, do you think?"

"Whichever seems more likely I suppose." Her shrug wasnt of dismissal, but true lack of understanding. She knew very little of the Conduits, and hadn't even known Lo-eel to be one when they first met over a decade ago. But it seemed plausible that the Noblecouncil might want to test the wits of their Conduits every so often. Though there was an aura of childishness about it, if so. If only they had seen how much her sweet Lo-eel was pulling his hair out over it all.

"Test or no test, I can’t treat this any differently. They expect a response so that's what I must give them." He returned to his writing, to Kyie it seemed like aimless scribbling, but she knew better than to tease him in the midst of his work. She debated internally if she should stay the night, lay in bed with her lover and comfort him in his hours of need. But she knew she'd probably never see him again if she were to do that. So Kyie stood, walking to Lo-eel and kissing him on the head softly.

"Well, I'll be heading home now, lest my father get worried."

"Damn your father." Lo blurted out suddenly, Kyie stepped back with a gasp.

"Lo-eel!" She shook her head in disbelief, a hand raised to her breast.

"Oh, please. I've heard you say it a dozen times and then some."

"Yes, but that's my father to damn, not yours! He has his reasons for disapproval." This made him finally turn to look at Kyie, who's face went white as she realized what she'd just said.

"Really, now? Valid reasons I would think? Reasons you adhere to?" His face was halfway between angered and hurt, a look that so desperately made Kyie want to burst out crying. But she didn't, and instead she swallowed the lump of tears and stood up straight -though not enough to seem as if she were challenging him- and shook her head.

"Reasons that on the surface, may seem valid. But my father doesn't know you like I do, he doesn't see how intellectual and clever you are. He only sees that you hardly attend Council meetings, and almost never leave the manor. He's begun to compare you to Lorrketh for Hyvales sake." She looked around anxiously at the mention of the former noblemens name. Lo-eel wanted to be offended, and in fact tried to instill a sense of anger within himself, but couldn't muster it up. The anger fizzled like a wet thumb and index finger to a lit wick. He simply scoffed, throwing his hands to hair.

"I could go to a dozen more feasts, and a dozen more balls and that man would never try to speak to me in earnest. He doesn't see an elf, so he doesn't see a future son-in-law." He spoke truly, and though it pained Kyie to admit, she couldn't argue the fact. He was mylian, and she was an elf, plain and simple as she had so elegantly put it. Though they were cousin-races, some Houses disagreed with the two races mingling. It had even been branded illegal in the northern province of Grant-ra, where the two luckily didn't live.

"Maybe once you solve this, he will see your intelligence and disregard all that traditional nonsense." She shrugged. Kyie stepped forward and began to rub her fingers deep into his shoulders and neck. He allowed himself to melt into her, eventually her arms creeped under his and she hugged him.

"Well, don't put any more pressure on me, Lords." He said with a smile, his eyes closed as he enjoyed her embrace. Kyie couldn't help but roll her eyes, kissing his head once more before turning to leave.

"I apologize, though." Lo-eel added suddenly. The auburn haired elf turned on her heels at his words, and looked at him procured. "For what I said. I know your father is a good man, if not a bit traditional as you say. But how can I not want to damn him for how he treats us? For how he forces this wedge between us in hopes that we will someday give in and break away. How dare he do such a thing and expect me not to react in all manners but kindly?" His lips trembled as emotion took over. Before she could say anything in response, he strode across the room and embraced her. Kyie was surprised, but quickly returned the embrace, resting her head on his chest as he held her.

"I don't blame you for being upset. One day D'gyra will be far behind us, a distant land of myth for all we care. I hear the weddings in Hyvak are always splendid in Leavefell. But until then, until that day, I will listen to my father." She could feel her words weren't as comforting as she'd wished, but she knew it was better than giving false hope that she would deny her fathers orders. The man who had helped her through every moment in her life, difficult or not.

"Go home and get some rest, dear. We have a busy day tomorrow." He said with a feigned smile, leading her to her chamber doors and out into the halls.

"Busy? Why's that?" She subconsciously ran the amulet around her neck through her fingers.

"There is the Gulf-fest, remember? I hope you have a good blue dress picked out, lest you want to be picked on by the ladies." He smiled, genuinely this time. His future wife's golden skinned face ran white, her hand covering her mouth as she recalled the event. Every year the Gulf-fest was bigger than the last; the connections to the east were growing larger. It seemed everyday the D'gyran Empire was growing, and soon would begin to spread to the mainland. But that seemed silly to most, who were more than happy with living on their island. But the Gulf-fest was more so a celebration of the Hota Taking two hundred and fifty years ago, exactly. It would be a bigger festival than usual, and most women and men would be wearing sky blue or teal to symbolize the naval battle that won them the island. Of course, a battle won at the cost of who would've been King Ffroth.

"I have my dress from last year, it still fits me I'm sure. No one will be able to tell, certainly, right?" There was a lack of confidence in her voice, but Lo-reel quickly shook his head, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. While it was thoughtful, and perhaps sweet, it wasn't what Kyie wanted at the moment and she quickly frowned.

"Return home, you'll be pleasantly surprised, I'm sure." Lo-eel couldn't combat the grin growing on his face. He told himself he wouldn't spoil the surprise, but it was clear he hadn't done a great job at that already. Kyie's face lit with excitement, with one last peck on the cheek she quickly made her leave down the hall towards the manor gates. He determined it was much more worth seeing her reaction in person than her recollection of it. Though, he hoped she'd actually like the dress, as she was rather picky when it came to what attire she deemed worth wearing.

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Once Lo-eel was sure that his love had left, he returned to his study. The lantern that he had flickering beside his research was beginning to look just as tired as him. And though he was tired he found himself more restless than he had ever been.

He sat down, dipping the dried out quill into the ink and began to write.

Myfer claims that Conductors can transfer their properties to other objects or beings nearby on rare occasions. It has only ever been observed once before, that is, in real time at least. It was during a study, with several Conduits as witnesses. Every other time has been from speculation alone, or less than trustworthy sources. Even then, some doubt the legitimacy of the aforementioned study. As the chances of the exact subject observed enacting this exchange - if we are to believe in the studies claims - are one in a few million. I myself don't think the properties were exchanged in our case either, as me and several other Conduits detected no other Conductors within the vault.

It perplexes me, whilst insulting me too. It could be as simple as one of the vaultmen having placed the object there whilst no one was looking. But, that wouldn't explain the dirt missing beneath the object, as if its very touch cleansed the earth below it. Tests have shown when placed on any surfaces since its discovery, it has no such reaction, which only adds to the confusion.

Brielor herself has assigned me this task, and is practically demanding I give her an answer unless I wish to be sleeping at the bottom of the Khyrra. And I in fact, do not. But after hundreds of hours of research, with dozens of different Conduits of varying skills and origin to atest, I can determine this object has no special properties. That is, other than its sudden existence.

Perhaps I can take a religious approach? Get the Master to preach that it's a gift from Hyvale herself? For all I know, it may actually be the truth. It would explain away much of my criticisms surrounding certain theories. Then again, what kind of gift is a hexagonal stone?Either way I'm doubtful Queen Brielor will be satisfied with that result. She seems to take a particular interest in this more than anything I've ever seen.

I will speak with Master Taashh tomorrow to get his formal opinion. Hopefully I can catch him in high spirits at the festival. Hyvale knows the old man needs a rest from it all. I'm sure inquiring about this will only see to add to his mountain of stress, but it is important nonetheless. Perhaps I'll wait for him to have a cup of ale or two. But knowing Master, he probably will try his best to stay away from it, as portly as he is.

I have nothing else to report for today. Keep focused, Lo-eel, for her and for yourself damnit.

As the journal entry came to its end, he gently closed the leather bound book. He tightened the leather strap around the length of the book, and sealed it away in his drawer. It was growing late, even for him. Undressing, he gathered his robe of orange silk. It was his family's color, a dark orange like a setting sun gleaming over the sea. Holding onto life just a little longer before succumbing to the waves.

He thought of how he would approach Master Taashh, who would no doubt wave his chubby fingers at him if he tried to talk. It seemed to Lo-eel that the Master finally realized that he only ever came to him when he wanted something. Did he feel bad about it? Sure, but, this was more important than simply asking for a vote on the council. This was possibly his life at stake. He didn't take Queen Brielor as one for jokes, so could only assume her threats were anything but playful.

There's no point in this, worrying myself. And though he repeated those words in his head, it did little to smother the growing pit in his stomach.

But as he went to blow his lantern out, he stopped at the sound of something crashing. Glass, or perhaps porcelain, had shattered somewhere in the manor.

The mylian stood at attention, and did as his training had taught him. Grabbing his short sword from the mantle beside his bed, he held it firm between his hands. He had never used it on anyone before, only dummies made of straw or wood, but he had gotten rather good at tearing those apart at the very least. His trainer, General Kroww, had told him he could've made a fine soldier, but that he hoped he'd never need to actually use the sword. It seemed that perhaps it might happen anyways.

Lo-eel snuck over to his door, and quietly opened it. At first just enough to see a few feet outside the room, but eventually pulling it open so his head could fit through. The hall was empty save for several small tables holding dimly lit candles. They provided very little light, massive splotches of darkness large enough to conceal several men just past each table.

He stifled his breathing, forcing himself to push into the hall. Every nerve in his body told him to cry out for his maids to go investigate for him, but what kind of man would that make him? Potentially sending an innocent young girl to her death because he was too afraid to look for himself? No, he knew how to swing a sword, and at the very least he would know he had died without cowering, or using up the life of another.

He emptied his head of all thoughts, careful not to move lest he make the floorboards creak, and listened. There were no more sounds of things breaking, but he could hear what very well could’ve been the sound of the shattered pieces of what broke sliding across the ground. No doubt, that was what he was hearing. It was then followed by several waves of a woman's laughter. High pitched, and interpreted by moments of silence.

As Lo-eel inched down the hall, his bare feet silent on the massive rugs spanning the hall, he heard the sounds get louder. Whoever it was, they weren't moving. Instead, they seemed to just stand there giggling to themselves. It wasn't until he heard a man's voice accompanying the laughter that his heart really began to pound against his chest.

He broke into a cold sweat, his hands shaking to the point he thought they'd go numb and drop his blade. It was all becoming far too real to him. Would he just slash at whatever stepped out in front of him? What if it was someone he knew and he ended up killing them? But what if it wasn't and his hesitation led him to get killed? What if-!

"Lo!" A voice cried out. Lo-eel froze, his eyes squinting as he waited for the voice to speak again. Perhaps he had misheard, or maybe his mind was playing tricks on him in a desperate attempt to calm him down. But sure as rain in spring, the voice called out again, though this time more strained. Lo-eel let the blade's tip hit the ground as he quickly ran around the corner.

He didn't know why, but he was surprised to see his sister Asu slung around some stranger. Beneath them with a broken vase, his sister's feet were cut and bleeding across the carpet. The man looked just as terrified as him, his mouth open as if to speak, but nothing came out. Lo-eel raised his sword, pointing it at the mylian.

"Asu, who the hells is this?" He said, his face turned from his normal blue to red in an instant. He didn't expect a truly coherent response, but asked anyway.

"Lo, dear, I believe I've got myself a catch!" She slurred her words, seemingly ignoring her feet full of shrapnel.

"I'm incredibly sorry, Te Mordd, I found your sister in this state and thought it best to bring her home. You have my promise I didn't cause her to be in this state." Sym helped lift her higher up, stepping away from the broken vase.

"Oh, I see, you must be Te Cortava. I apologize for my rudeness. My sister has a habit of bringing in new faces unexpectedly. I don't think we've properly met, save for last year's Gulf-fest briefly." He realized how silly he sounded, talking so casually as his sister bled from her feet in the arms of the noble. "Right, well, follow me to her chambers. I'll send for Jynna, the closest thing we have to a doctor here."

"This must be the third or fourth time I've pulled something out of your drunken sibling this year, Te Mordd!" Jynna carefully plucked a piece of porcelain from Asus foot. She didn't even flinch, as she was nearly unconscious as was. She had taken the painkillers long before the pain even started. Sym Cortava stood in the corner of the room, his elbow resting on his arm that squeezed his chest, he rubbed his chin silently as he watched the whole ordeal.

Sym had insisted he leave, but Lo-eel had insisted even more that he stay by her side for the night, since he didn't entirely believe this wasn't his fault.

"I don't need your remarks, Jynna. If I had a cryy for every time my sister was drunk we'd be living in the Dust already. You believe I enjoy dealing with this every other evening?" He gave the maid a nasty glare, to which she quickly got back to work, her mouth properly shut. Sym wasn't sure whether or not to speak, as it seemed Lo-eel wasn't entirely in the mood to hear what he had to say.

He couldn't blame him, just from the few hours he spent with Asu he could tell her character near instantly. She wasn't the kind of woman to change much whether she was sober or not. Being drunk only seemed to increase her confidence in what horrible things she’d say. Then again he hadn't met her sober, yet.

"These cuts aren't very deep, thankfully. I'll bandage it up, but she should stay off her feet for days to let it scab over." Jynna had attended a medical university on the mainland for several years before she ended up on D'gyra. She always refused to elaborate how she found herself on the island to begin with when asked. And no matter how much Lo-eel tried to convince her to return to Hyvak and take on a better life, she would always just smile and say she was exactly where she needed to be. He eventually learned there was no point in arguing, and opted to pray for her instead.

"Are you sure? She was bleeding quite a lot." Sym butted in, taking a step forward. Jynna looked at the stranger, briefly with skepticism, but then smiled warmly.

"It might be hard to believe, but Lady Asu doesn't exactly have calloused feet like you men happen to." She chuckled to herself as she bandaged the near unconscious young lady. Her long blonde hair spilled over the bed, just shy of touching the ground. Lo-eel took a step back, scoffing.

"So she's going to miss the Gulf-fest than? Typical." He rubbed his eyes wearily. His tiredness hadn't gone away even after the great scare. If anything, he felt now that he would have a harder time sleeping knowing he'd have to explain his sister's absence to the nosey nobles that plagued the Council.

Jynna bit her lip, shaking her head as she finished the bandage. Tearing it away from the rest of the roll, she tucked it away in a leather bag of hers full of equipment. She had needles, scissors, knives, and of course antiseptics. She spent much of her wages on it, and it was purely to serve those in the manor.

A noble act indeed, something that didn't go unnoticed by Lo-eel, who often gave her extra cryys to reimburse her. Even when she tried to deny the cryys, Lo-eel would slip them in her room when she was busy about her day.

"I'm just concerned about keeping the wounds clean. Even a little infection in such small cuts can cause great trouble. So long as you replace her bandage she should be fine, though I can't account for her whining about the stinging of course." She chuckled again, patting the foot of the drunken mylian before standing up from the cushioned bench at the end of the bed.

"Well, of course. Te Cortava, stay with Asu till she wakes." Lo-eel established once again, to which Sym nodded respectfully. It was a tradition on D'gyra to stay close to those who were ill, or in this case, drunk, regardless of connection to the person. Sometimes nobles would find someone half to death on the road, and would take them home and care for them for months rather than turn them into the doctors at the Ca'kula Manor.

It was actually a terrible tradition as most found out, for sometimes people would die from not being given proper treatment. It was never neglect, but more so lack of understanding what really ailed the person. But, D'gyra was a place of tradition, ridiculous or not.

Sym wasn't surprised when Lo-eel had demanded he watch over her, and had even been expecting it on their shaky walk to the manor. He kept quiet though, and as Lo-eel left, along with the maid Jynna, he stood in the dark room alone with the mylian lady

He waited several long quiet moments before flicking his fingers, a flame springing to life on his fingertip. If he was stuck there for the night, he might as well use it to his advantage. Now was the time to start looking.