Chapter Thirty

Storms on the Horizon

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The High Wardeness’ melodic croon sent a shiver along his spine.

“Firstrider, I was just thinking about you. How is our mutual interest coming along?”

Rhydian leant forward to rest his forearms upon his knees, turning the wyndstone in his hand.

“Quite well, actually. She’s progressing far better than I expected,” he said.

Cydan was seated beside him upon the hill, watching Inet and Tanuzet dance across the sky as he listened.

“Oh? I do believe you’ve just made my morning. Is she ready for travel?”

“Not yet, but my sage believes her soul will be stable enough once she reaches her fourth ascension. She’s nearing the peak of her third, so it shouldn’t be long now. With luck, I hope to have more good news for you within a week or two.”

He was rather proud of her progress, if he were honest. Inerys possessed a rare tenacity, though whether it was born of will or necessity, he couldn’t say. Regardless, he found he admired her for it.

“I’m pleased to hear the spirit wilds have proven themselves useful to your efforts. What of her shackles? Has there been any change to the rate of decay?” She asked.

“Not from what we’ve been able to tell. Her core has devoured four of the six that were placed. She goes through one every week or so,” Rhydian said, “My wyvernsage is prepared to set more, should the need arise.”

With luck, they wouldn’t be necessary, but it would all come down to timing. Once the onset of her advancement occurred, there was still the matter of her willforging to take into account. The longer she could hold her surging essence at bay, the stronger her mental thresholds would become going forward. The process could take anywhere from a few days, to a few weeks all on its own.

“What of your other sage? Vesryn, was it? Is he not overseeing her health himself?”

Rhydian had been prepared for this particular question, but he had hoped she’d overlook the issue. He himself was still trying to decide what to do with the man. He wasn’t harming the situation, but neither was he helping matters. Thus far, he had done little beyond eat and sulk in his tent since Sorisanna arrived. He’d become more of an irritant than anything else.

“The man has been difficult to work with. I don’t believe he agrees with our decision to try and mend her soul, so he does not assist beyond what is required of him. My wyvernsage, on the other hand, has been instrumental in Inerys’ recovery. The innovations she has made have made all the difference. Without her, we would not have made half as much progress,” he said, which was the honest truth of it, “I’ve seen no reason to refuse her insight. At this point, forcing Vesryn to assist would be more trouble than it is worth.”

“There were bound to be objections, given the girl’s nature. I cannot say I’m entirely surprised, but it is disappointing to hear nonetheless,” she said. There was no inflection to her admission, only a clinical sort of acceptance, “I will have to thank this wyvernsage of yours personally when you arrive.”

“I would be glad of it. She’s a talented young woman and takes pride in her work. Her observations and notations are rather extensive, as well. I’m sure you’ll find them of particular interest.”

He wondered, though, how much the Wardeness herself already knew. She could likely tell them a great deal, if she chose to. Why leave them to blunder about in the dark?

“You hold her in high esteem. If that is indeed the case, I expect nothing less,” she said, “Tell me, do you and yours have any idea as to what our young mystery woman might be?”

This was a test, wasn’t it?

“We do,” he admitted, sharing a brief look with Cydan, “Now, I know it might sound like a stretch, but I remembered hearing rumors of cannibals across the sea as a boy. I spoke with Vesryn about it when she first came to us and he believed they were referred to as vampires, so that’s what we’ve taken to calling her.”

He could practically hear her smile as she chuckled, “You, my dear firstrider, continue to impress. Your memory serves you well. You must have been around, what, ten when those rumors began to circulate?”

He couldn’t exactly recall how old he had been, only that he had heard them spoken about by some of the older Talhavar students at the academy.

“I believe so, my Lady,” he said.

“Do you know how they first arose?”

He hesitated, struggling to recall the finer details, but he came up short.

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” he said, though her question gave him hope she might actually lend her insight.

Beside him, Cydan leaned forward in interest.

The wyndstone fell silent and Rhydian feared the connection had been lost, but it appeared the Wardeness had merely been in some quiet deliberation, for the script was still active and warm.

“Did you ever stop to ask yourself which sea the rumors referred to?” She wondered.

He hadn’t.

“I can’t say I have, my Lady,” he said, almost fearing the answer.

He knew of the continents to the west and south, but in truth he knew little about them beyond their location. The Talhavar had always been concerned with the domestic territories between the confederation countries, so those beyond were rarely their concern. A majority of their allied countries laid to the east. And the north . . . Well, he had always been told the storms prevented anyone from crossing too far into the Sylvallian sea. No one knew what lay on the other side.

Or, so he had been told.

These days, he was prone to take anything he thought he knew with a grain of salt.

“Hardly surprising, given how varied the accounts were. You’re familiar with the northern storms, I presume?”

“I know of them, at the very least,” he said, nodding to himself.

“The lands across the Sylvallian sea have been a mystery to us ever since the Breaking, due in no small part to those very storms. They’re violent, unpredictable and largely the reason northern crossings are forbidden,” The Wardeness said.

“Largely, but not entirely?”

“Indeed,” she hummed, “Sixteen years ago, a naval captain decided he would be the first to traverse the storms. The poor fool made it past them too, but we never learned how he managed it. The reports from the survivors were unreliable. Each one seemed to have a different account of what had transpired, both in how they managed to navigate the stormwall and in what they found on the other side. Some spoke of sea-side cities refusing port. Others report being fired upon. Many denied having come across land at all.”

Rhydian wasn’t entirely sure he understood. They all had differing accounts? He wondered how such a thing was possible, but then he remembered the encounter with the First Wing riders. If the woman, and those like her, could use some sort of vocal command or technique to dictate someone’s actions, could they also be used to alter memories?

Rhydian’s brow furrowed, “Then how do you know they actually managed it?”

“We found evidence of an engagement upon the upper and lower decks of the ship. Amid the carnage, we found several unidentified bodies in foreign uniform. Most of the ship’s crew had been killed, but it appeared they managed to take a number of the enemy with them. Whether or not they made landfall is ultimately irrelevant. They clearly encountered someone on the other side and whomever they were, they were not keen on hosting guests.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I see,” he said, parsing out the details in his mind, “Where do the reports of the cannibals fit in?”

“A handful of the remaining crew reported an enemy soldier fighting without a weapon. We interviewed them all separately and in this, each of their accounts were the same. Apparently, he preferred to use hands and teeth to dispatch their comrades.”

More like claws and fangs, Rhydian thought, finding himself ill at the thought, the memory.

His blood turned to ice in his veins and he consciously began cycling rysk from his spiritual core in an effort to ward off the chill. Gooseflesh still rose along his skin and his fingers tingled despite the warmth of the stone he held. The parallels were no coincidence. Of that, he was certain.

“The bodies you found, did any of them match the descriptions I gave you of the woman?” He asked, barely able to find his voice.

Cydan had gone still, his expression unreadable.

“None. Though, one of the men bore a wound along his neck that appeared more an animal bite than a man’s.”

Taking a deep breath, he sat back and tried to roll the stiffness from his shoulders. The prospect of a whole country or continent full of those monsters was hard to fathom. One had been enough of a nightmare on its own. Though, he wondered if there had been more to the situation than met the eye. The woman they’d encountered had been off, somehow. Had she been sick? Mad?

Thus far, Inerys had yet to manifest any of those same behaviors. She had a frightening appetite for blood and an intermittent strength that terrified him, but beyond those, she was sane, wasn’t she? So long as her hunger for essence was kept in check, all was well. Had the other woman been somehow starved? The thought of Inerys going feral pained him more than he cared to admit. Though, the reminder of her circumstance had him straightening in his seat.

“Did the man survive the bite?” He asked.

“He did. Though, to answer your true question– no. The wound did not result in the same change your ward has undergone. Whatever caused her affliction remains a mystery.”

He ground his teeth in frustration. To a degree, he was relieved. Perhaps an outbreak was unlikely. The sample size was hardly encouraging, though. Two bitten, one changed. The man’s health afterward could have been a fluke. There was also the matter of their blood to take into account. Inerys hadn’t been wholly Adai when she’d been bitten. Did that have something to do with it?

If she were to bite him, would he change? Or would he remain unaffected?

His lips thinned.

“I do not wish to overstep, Lady Wardeness, but . . . do you know what she is?”

“We both do,” she said thoughtfully, “Curious, though, how your sage already knew the truth. I myself did not know what a vampire was until recently.”

She hadn’t?

A part of him found that hard to believe.

“I had never heard the term prior to our conversation. We thought to check the Mistwatch library for references, but never had the time. May I ask how you happened upon it?” He asked.

There was another pause, but she said, “An emissary arrived in Cyllicia this past week. I will spare the specifics for now, but she and I have had some rather enlightening conversations. You, I’m sure, will find her quite interesting when you arrive.”

He had to school his breathing, lest his heart break free of his chest. Sky’s breath, this emissary had come from across the Sylvallian sea, hadn’t she? Cydan appeared to be asking himself the same question. He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it.

“She’s like Inerys, isn’t she?” Rhydian asked, “A vampire?”

“Indeed she is,” the Wardeness said, “You’ll be pleased to hear she’s put your fears of cannibalism to rest as well. Vampires may be hemovores, but it seems they have no interest in flesh. I imagine that particular detail arose later. Sailors are prone to embellishment, after all, especially when drunk.”

If he had witnessed someone tearing into the throat of another, he might accuse them of being something similar. He supposed they were not cannibals, exactly. These vampires appeared to be an entire species unto themselves, but accusing them of being maneaters, at the very least, wouldn’t have been a stretch.

“I see. And she’s . . . civil?” He asked, unsure why he couldn't quite reconcile the fact.

“I would not have invited her to stay at my estate if the case were otherwise,” she said.

For Zardaress’ Wardeness to place that level of faith in someone was no small thing. Though in fairness, she was the most powerful woman in the country and likely among the strongest in the known world. She could extinguish this emissary, whomever she was, like the flame of a candle. There was likely more to the arrangement, though, now that he thought about it.

He wanted to press, to ask what the woman had come, but this was the High Wardeness he was speaking to. He was lucky she had chosen to include him as much as she had already. Few were ever fortunate enough to meet her, let alone fall under her direct employ. The fact he was, was an honor.

He would conduct himself accordingly.

“A relief, then. I look forward to meeting her. I can only imagine what insight she might have into our situation,” he said.

“There is much we might learn from one another,” she agreed, “Though for the time being, I would prefer to have you and your wyvernsage continue your own observations without outside influence. They may prove useful to us in the future.”

“It will be done, my Lady,” he promised.

“Good. I have high hopes for you and yours. When you arrive in Cyllicia, you will fly to the Talhavar base and await my arrival in the embassy. Command will be expecting you, but since you are now under my direct purview, no one is to interfere. You are not to be questioned or approached by anyone without prior clearance from myself. Do I make myself clear?”

His reply was as automatic as it was crisp. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Should anyone step out of line, I best be the first to know. As of now, you answer to no one else.”

“Understood,” he said, looking to Cydan, who nodded his own agreement.

Not answering to command felt wrong, somehow, but now, that was neither here nor there.

“Excellent. In the meantime, continue as you are. I expect to be notified when the girl advances.”

“Of course,” he said.

Rhydian dropped his hand as the stone went cold, a shaky breath escaping his lips. Vampires, unreliable memories, emissaries from across the seas– his mind reeled. He had never been under the impression this would be an easy, simple task, but hadn’t expected anything quite so complex. It seemed this was no longer a domestic affair.

For the few answers he received, he had about a hundred more questions.

“That was . . . more than I expected,” Cydan said, his own eyes vacant before he appeared to pull himself from his own thoughts.

“Agreed,” he said, slipping the wyndstone back into his pocket and rubbing at his face.

This was a fine mess, but it was nice to know they were not alone in it. Rhydian had yet to decide if he fully trusted her, but what better ally to have than a sovereign? The Wardeness had knowledge, experience, and resources. If anyone could figure out how to help Inerys, it would be her.

He was less certain about her house guest, though.

“What do you make of this emissary?” He asked.

Cydan rose, a hand briefly stroking his trim beard in thought.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “But if they’ve gone through the trouble of crossing the Sylvallian sea of all things, they must have a good reason. Maybe our dear, dead friend was someone of importance? An escaped criminal of some sort?”

“With her ascension? She was certainly someone. What I would like to know is why she came here and how she managed it. Those storms likely work both ways. If she crossed by ship, who’s to say she was alone? For all we know, there may be more of them out there,” Rhydian said, shuddering at the prospect.

“It’s a possibility. Do you think the Wardeness would have told us if there were?”

“Perhaps. It’s hard to say, though. She may not want any other distractions taking away from our current task. Inerys’ recovery is important to her. I’m not entirely sure why, but she clearly views her as an asset. If they discovered any additional vampires, she likely sent other units after them.”

“Well, should that be the case, I hope they were more well prepared.”

“You and I both,” Rhydian muttered, “I’ve never heard of anyone being able to control people through vocal techniques. It’s no wonder the First Wing dyads were caught unaware.”

“Do you think something similar was done to those sailors? What with their minds being scrambled and all?”

“Perhaps. But it could have just as easily have been a stress response. Why go through the trouble of tampering with memories if you could have them killed? They were attacked, after all. The manipulation would have been a wasted effort.”

“True enough,” Cydan said, pursing his lips as he watched their inbound wyverns.

“Part of me does wonder if it's possible, though. The memory alteration, at least. Mental techniques are above my skill set, but we also happen to have the Lady of Dreams on our side. She’s bound to know something.”

“I only hope she shares it with us,” he said, “This is a lot bigger now, Rhydian. How do you think Inerys is going to take it?”

He’d been asking himself the same question. He hadn’t exactly told her the specifics of their capitol visit. Would she still be so eager to go if she knew the truth of the scope?

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” he admitted.

Cydan turned to him then, a brow arched.

“How much have you told her?”

He grimaced, “Not as much as I should have.”

“Being . . . ?”

“I told her I knew people who could help. Nothing else.”

“Rhydian–”

He held up a hand, “I plan on telling her everything when the time comes. She has enough to focus on already. Once she advances, I’ll tell her.”

His fourthrider fixed him with a skeptical look.

“I mean no disrespect, firstrider, but that better be the truth of it. She deserves that much.”

“You have my word, Cydan.”