After saving Chloe, Gideon hurried down to Kelvan’s lab, where he was lucky enough to find not only his Uncle but Ondine as well. They had been in the middle of a hushed conversation, but both grew silent as Gideon presented the potted plant and announced his success. Juniper had already taken her leave to let her father know the good news: both the rats and Silvari would be welcome in the castle.
Sadly, Gideon did not receive the reaction that he’d hoped for. He’d never expected praise from his Uncle, of course, merely a grudging acknowledgment of his progress followed by a new task to complete. But even Ondine looked unimpressed. Uncle Kelvan’s mirror hovered next to her. He smirked, red eyes twinkling as he turned towards the ghost.
Perhaps Gideon had been misunderstood. Sometimes, he talked too quickly when he was excited.
“Look,” Gideon repeated, holding up Chloe’s pot towards Ondine. “Your rare and precious aether lilium, cured!”
“Oh, dear,” Ondine said, placing her forehead in her hand. “Lord Kelvan, now that his task is completed, it’s time you came clean.”
Kelvan chuckled from within the mirror, turning his head first to Ondine and then to Gideon, seemingly delighted. He scratched his chin underneath his beard. “Nephew, there’s no such thing as an aether lilium,” he confessed. “I made it all up. To motivate you.” He clapped his hands. “And it worked. Another brilliant Kastorus training technique, if I may say so.”
Gideon groaned, looking down at the very green plant in his hands. If not an aether lilium, what exactly was he holding?
Ondine saw Gideon’s downcast expression and reached out to pat him on the shoulder, then seemed to think better of it. She smiled sympathetically. “Sadly, Lord Kelvan, I'm afraid this ‘training technique’ will only work once.”
“Then, who is Chloe?” Gideon asked.
“Ah, I'm afraid ‘Chloe’ is a common dimweed. There are thousands of them growing in a field behind the castle. Really, Gideon, I thought someone who worked as a gardener for so many years would know basic botany. Thankfully, you never thought twice about it. One day, your trusting nature will be your downfall. Hopefully, I will have disabused you of it before then.”
“I was never a gardener,” Gideon said, then shook his head and sighed. “Never mind. So she's not a rare plant at all, then?”
“As if I would endanger a valuable commodity for a simple training exercise,” Kelvan scoffed. “You can do whatever you want with it. Throw it off the mountain for all I care.”
After going to all the trouble of saving her, Gideon recoiled at the idea of throwing poor Chloe away. He hugged the pot to his chest. “I think I'll keep her,” he said. Then he looked at Kelvan and Ondine suspiciously. “Hey, Melissa said…”
“Thankfully, the young Melissa is both food-motivated and susceptible to bribery,” Kelvan replied. “My only worry for the plan was that you might look out the wrong window and see a thousand other ‘aether liliums’ just like this one. Thankfully, your bedroom is on the wrong side to see them.”
“But you made such a big deal about it,” Gideon said to Ondine. “I really thought…” You were too damn convincing.
“Such dedication to the role. Pure acting!” Sir Clonk exclaimed from the back corner of the lab. Gideon jumped because he hadn’t noticed the knight, who, up until this point, had been silent. “Lady Ondine, would you like to join the cast of Dinner Adventures? You would be a star.”
“Not a chance,” she said to Clonk, then turned to Gideon. “Sorry, but Lord Kelvan was very persuasive.”
“These skills could save your life from a vile necromancer,” Kelvan said. “A little emotional distress is a reasonable price to pay.”
“That emotional distress is mostly me feeling stupid for taking you at your word,” Gideon said as he raised an eyebrow. “What an interesting lesson you’ve taught me, Uncle.”
Ondine bowed, apologized again, then floated out of the room.
Gideon turned to Clonk. “Don’t tell me you were in on this, too,” he said.
“I knew nothing,” Clonk said, placing a gauntlet to his chest. “I’m quite offended no one thought to include me in this latest ploy. Am I not worthy of such drama? Let me onto your stage, Master Kelvan.”
“Maybe when you learn to keep a secret,” Kelvan said, then turned to Gideon. “Anyway, Nephew, while my methods might be unorthodox, they have produced results once again, haven’t they?” He grinned happily. “How did it feel to succeed? To feel the life mana pouring forth, the elegant weave of its pattern?”
“Pretty good,” Gideon admitted. “Juniper gave me some good pointers.”
“Ah, yes, yes, and no doubt Lady Harmony’s book was invaluable.”
Gideon didn’t want to offend him, so he nodded. “I appreciated her perspective.” He only hoped the rest of the book would be more helpful.
“All is well that ends well. Isn’t that so, Gideon?” Before Gideon could answer, his Uncle continued, “Yes, glad to hear you understand and that all is forgiven.” His mirror turned and headed for the passage leading to the meditation chamber. “Oh, what a bother. Look at the time.” There were no clocks in the room. “We simply must get on with your training…”
“I don’t think you can forgive yourself on my behalf,” Gideon said, but Kelvan had already floated out of the room. “I would need to do that.” He shook his head and laughed, then set Chloe down gently on one of the lab benches before following his Uncle downstairs.
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Gideon lost to his mirror image again. Though he could channel life mana, there was little use for that in a combat situation. He needed to learn a spell to put the life mana to work. His reflection combined his vitamancy and geomancy to form a perfect earthen shell fused to his body. Gideon tried using [Quake] to break open his opponent’s shell, but the Mirror Gideon somehow continuously regenerated the armor.
It would be a great spell if Gideon could learn it someday.
Afterward, Gideon and Clonk headed down the mountain to run some much-needed errands. He still owed many of the citizens of Emberly for their help with the spiders, and Aurora had called him several times to let him know his pest control services were badly needed. As he slowly made his way through the village, helping farmer after farmer with their problems, Clonk went on to Valeforge to pick up their custom-made spidersilk sheets, pillowcases, and some other bedding they’d purchased made of more common materials.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
With Gideon’s increased skill in geomancy since the last time he’d done this, finding the Blight Tunnelers underneath the fields was almost too easy. He could pinpoint their locations with [Geosense], then force them to the surface with [Quake]. An enhanced [Hail of Stone] or two took care of them.
What had once been a difficult job, even with Clonk’s help, had become mundane. There was a sense of satisfaction when he saw the warm smiles of the farmers whose crops would now be secure during the harvest, which would soon be upon them.
Clonk returned later in the afternoon, carrying a cart laden with new bedding and piles of groceries. They would be holding quite the feast for their new friends.
As Clonk pulled the cart towards him, Gideon shook hands with a heavily-tanned farmer. Gideon had just finished clearing the man’s pumpkin patch of two Blight Tunnelers.
“Well, I guess I’d better be going,” Gideon said, waving to Clonk.
“Could you come back early next year?” the farmer asked. “There are always more of them after the thaw.”
“I’d be happy to,” Gideon replied. “I’m only sorry I didn’t get out here to help sooner. I’ve had my hands full at the castle. Thanks again for helping us with those spiders.”
The farmer waved his hand as if it was nothing. “Hey,” he asked. “You want a pumpkin?” He gestured at the patch Gideon had cleared. The pumpkins were massive, but the farmer walked to a nearby one and quickly lifted it, detaching it from the vine with a knife before handing it to Gideon.
Gideon felt his arms strain under the weight of it. Thankfully, Clonk seemed to realize his struggle and took it from his hands when he reached them. Carrying it with one outstretched gauntlet, Clonk gingerly placed it in the back of the cart.
Once they were back on the road, Gideon dusted his hands and looked up at Elysion, the white sun hanging low in the sky. “I guess that’s that,” he said. “That was the last farm on the list that Aurora gave me.”
“You were busy today,” Clonk said. “That was, what, twelve farms? I thought you’d need to finish tomorrow.”
“It went quickly,” Gideon replied. “And it felt good, you know, to help them after they did so much for us.”
“Repaying a debt is a blessing,” Clonk said, “for both debtor and debtee.”
Gideon nodded. He wondered if that was scripture, but if so, he didn’t recognize it. Now that the sun was descending, a cold wind had started to blow down from the mountain, and he shivered, burying his hands in the pockets of his robes. “We should get back to the castle before it gets dark.”
“Looks like a clear night tonight,” Clonk replied as he surveyed the sky. “Perfect for a little stargazing. This time of year, Lyraen, Vorra, and Celestra are almost aligned. The goddess-mother and her daughters, together at last. It happens so rarely. We should celebrate.”
“Huh,” Gideon said as he looked up. “Maybe we can have a stargazing party after the feast. I don’t think I’ll have time tonight.” He groaned as a realization struck him. “We’ll need to clean the dining hall tomorrow if we want to have the feast tomorrow night.”
“Sometimes I long for the days,” Clonk said softly, “when my only job was polishing a mirror.”
Gideon chuckled, and they walked in silence for a while before a thought occurred to him. “How can you predict the alignment of the stars, anyway?”
“Living under the same sky for centuries,” Clonk said, “I have become attuned to its rhythms.” They walked silently for a while, and Gideon kicked a pebble along the dirt trail to pass the time. “There are also star charts in the library. I memorized them.”
Gideon smirked, impressed. “You know, I wonder where you come from.”
The knight’s helm nodded. Gideon thought he saw a glint within the darkness of the visor, but it might have been his imagination. “As do I,” Clonk said. “As do I.”
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At Clonk’s insistence, Gideon rode in the cart during their ascent up the mountain. While leaning back against the pile of spidersilk, he ran his fingers against its smooth weave.
Lulled by the gentle motion of the cart, he fell asleep, only to awaken to Clonk poking him in the shoulder. Looking around, he realized they had reached the castle courtyard. The realization struck him that soon, The Last Rest would actually have comfortable beds.
Of course, that was a bare minimum requirement for any good inn, but it still felt like a milestone. It seemed like only yesterday the castle’s roof had been crumbling apart.
Gideon took a bundle of groceries down to the undercroft. He asked Rathe to pass along an invitation to a feast for the following night. When Gideon emerged above ground, he found Grimsby waiting in the hallway.
“Come on,” the skeleton beckoned. “You’re late for dinner.” Outside, the sky had gone dark.
“Oh, right,” Gideon said. “I lost track of time.” In all the hustle and bustle, he’d forgotten entirely to eat. His stomach grumbled with that realization. He followed Grimsby to the kitchen, where a pot roast, baked potato, and salad awaited him.
As Gideon ate the fantastic meal, warmth and gratitude filled his chest. Things were starting to come together, weren’t they?
“As always, this is great,” Gideon said between mouthfuls of potato. “Thank you.”
Grimsby nodded. He was standing by the sink washing dishes. “I’m glad you like it. Just make sure you don’t spend so much time helping everyone else that you forget yourself, bub.”
Gideon felt his cheeks burn a little at the reproach. “You’re right. It’s just been so busy. At least, now that I’ve helped out the villagers, I’ll have some time to get the dining hall ready and prepare for our new staff…” His voice trailed off as he considered training the new arrivals and deciding what role each one should fill. Rathe could hopefully act as a go-between, helping to keep the rest of the rats organized, and Juniper…
“Bah,” Grimsby said, interrupting Gideon’s thoughts. “It’s never too busy to eat, drink, or dance, as I always say.”
“I’ve never heard you say that,” Gideon replied. “Or seen you dance.”
“Well, I think about dancing all the time.” The skeleton turned off the sink and began to arrange the dishes on a large steel drying rack. “But don’t change the subject. My point is, Mr. Manager, don’t forget to manage yourself, too.”
“Point taken,” Gideon said, after taking another bite of the roast. The meat burst with flavor. “Thanks, Grimsby. I know you’re right, but honestly, I’ve never felt responsible for anything or anyone before. And now…”
“Things are different,” Grimsby said, nodding. “Now people are depending on you.”
“Well, yes,” Gideon said. “And I feel like I owe them, you know?”
“Sure, sure. As long as you first pay the debts you owe to yourself, bub. Those are the most important. If you don’t pay those, you’ll find it difficult to square the others.”
Gideon sat there, eating in silence, considering Grimsby’s words. Perhaps, after dinner, he should accept Clonk’s invitation and go stargazing after all. Now that Clonk had two telescopes, joining him would be easier than ever.
Gideon’s thoughts were interrupted, however, by a booming noise, almost like the crash of thunder, from outside. Gideon dropped his fork, jumped to his feet, and grabbed his staff from where it leaned against the table. He pulled it from its case as he ran through the halls, emerging into the courtyard with the staff held straight in front of him.
A figure stood in the courtyard wearing robes that shone with a brilliant blue light. Whoever they were, Gideon felt waves of energy coming off them, a magical presence that dwarfed that of anyone he had ever met. Their eyes locked with his. Eyes that glowed the color of lightning, unblinking. For the first time since facing down the Silkspinner broodmother, he felt his heart quicken and his palms sweat. This must be fear, he realized.
The figure pulled back her hood, revealing the face of a middle-aged, aristocratic woman with silver hair in a low bun and a pleasant smile. Her smile widened as she looked at Gideon, taking note of the staff held before him threateningly, humming with earth mana. She seemed almost amused by the display. The glow in her eyes faded.
“Ah,” she said. “You must be Gideon Moody.”
“Then I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my lady,” he replied carefully. It was only a guess, but based on her regal bearing, he couldn’t help but suspect she was of the magical nobility. He carefully lowered his staff. The more he looked at her, the more he saw an unexpected resemblance to a past guest. But surely, she looked far too young to be…
“Lady Mariel Stormrider,” the woman said. “I believe you’ve already met my son.” She looked up at Castle Kastorus as if noticing it for the first time. “I’d like to book a room for two nights, please. Your finest available. And then I’d like to have a frank discussion with you, Gideon.” She strode towards him and extended her hand. He gingerly took it. The air around her smelled of ozone.
“Uh, a discussion of what, exactly?” he asked.
“Why, your future, child,” she said. “Your bright and promising future.”
After a moment, he pulled his hand away from her strong grip. Though she seemed friendly, he couldn’t help but feel suspicious.
Maybe his Uncle had taught him a useful lesson after all.