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Chapter 8: Donarin

Uzca and Bezben sat around the fire opposite Warren. They sipped water and tried not to regret eating so much. Warren continued explaining why they might not be welcome in the lowlands.

"Down in the lowlands, maybe not in Donarin—they're close to the mountains and know many of the highlanders—but down in the lowlands proper, they don't worship the old gods anymore. Most don't think they even exist until some evidence pops up. They have stories, though. The old gods cursed their followers with powers that would bring ruin upon the land—that sort of nonsense.

"But they call anyone with the power of the old gods, these gifts you mention, god-touched or god-tainted. They mostly don't care about the old gods, but if you go around showing people those powers, you'll end up in trouble. No doubt about it."

Uzca recalled his father claiming that he and his brother weren't welcome, that the lowlanders saw them as barbarians. Was that why? Why had his grandfather ever brought his mother into the mountains if the people there and their beliefs were so despised? It raised more questions.

"What gods do the lowlanders worship, if not our gods?" Bezben asked. He looked as confused as Uzca felt.

"The Living God, of course. He's the deity of some religious order in a city up the coast. Actually lives in the city. I'm not a religious man myself, but that's what they say. The old gods became corrupted or died, or something else, and the Living God was born to bring light to the world. I don't know much more about it."

"But we'll be marked as god-touched anywhere we go?" Uzca asked.

"Well, maybe not. If you go flaunting those gifts, it's possible. Most people will just assume you're mages, though. Magic is magic to most folks."

"Mages? What's that?"

"A mage is a wielder of magic. They get their power from the Living God somehow...I think. Again, I don't know much about them. Mages are becoming more common, but I don't encounter them much. I spend much of my time in the high places, seeing more of you gifted folk than mages."

Uzca scratched his chin thoughtfully. "People don't mind the mages?"

Warren laughed. "People love mages. They can do all kinds of things with their magic. I don't know if people would think differently if each mage only had one spell, but the mages learn many different magics."

"What do the mages think about gifts?"

"That is a good question. I've never asked one. They're a lot more logical than fanatical, for the most part, so they might not care. Still, best if you keep your business and power to yourselves. I'm not sure what you're doing down in the lowlands, and I don't right care much, but you should be careful in any case."

With that, Warren excused himself for a call of nature, and the cousins were left to think about what he said.

"You know, I've heard my Pa talk about lowlanders with a little hostility," Bezben said. "I never really knew why. I guess it's because they hated us first."

"Yeah, maybe," Uzca said, unconvinced. "It does seem like they used to worship our gods. I wonder what happened."

"Does it matter? If I'm not going to be able to practice in front of lowlanders, I should get some practice in now," Bezben said. He stood and put a hand over his stomach. "Some light practice." He headed off, walking to an open patch of ground and conjuring a spear of light above himself.

Uzca sighed. He could be a little more circumspect with his practice. No one would notice his feet or knees hardening into metal. He could even hide his hands and elbows under his cloak. Now that they were on the road, he just had to ensure he was never so tired that he couldn't use his gift to protect himself.

He was curious about these mages. Was it possible for him to learn their magic? Would he need to stop following Rethkam and start following this Living God Warren spoke of? He wouldn't do that, but he suspected that if Bezben had the idea, he wouldn't hesitate to drop worship of Vandrias like a sack of potatoes. That might have been unfair, but Bezben never seemed to think much about worshiping the gods.

Uzca left his cousin to his training, deciding a short walk around the area would help his too-full stomach. When he entered the noticeably thicker forest, they had pulled into. He found a nice branch of sturdy wood just off the road. He used it as a walking stick, enjoying the steady beat of the stick on the forest floor as he walked.

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His life was normal a little over a week ago. Sure, his mother and brother were long gone, but that was an old wound. He had been a blacksmith apprentice and enjoyed many things about his life. Now, he had dredged up old wounds and taken off on a probably perilous adventure. He was learning uncomfortable truths and encountering things that he wanted to know the truth about. He wasn't sure if he was happy about the changes yet, but it had been an interesting experience so far.

He looked within at the kernel of his god's formless power. Was it another gift? An evolution of his current gift? Whatever it was, It didn't seem any closer to coming to life than when he checked last night or the morning before. He wasn't impatient, exactly. He still needed to figure out his gift's limits, which would take time. The facts of the matter didn't sate his curiosity, though.

The following day the trio got up early with the sun. They would arrive in Donarin in a few hours, right around when most folks would be out of their homes after breakfast, or as Warren called it, "the perfect time to make a sale."

As they crested a final hill, the valley that was the entrance into the lowlands spilled out before them. Just a few miles down the road was the village of Donarin. A river ran through it, and they could make out buildings and smoke, though no specific other details. The rest of the valley was a lush green, with other rivers spilling down from the mountains and heading east towards what Uzca knew was a mighty river at the center of the province. That river emptied into the sea, but they were a long way off from seeing either the mighty river or the ocean.

When they were just a mile outside the town, they pulled to a stop.

"Alright, boys, this is where we must part. It wouldn't do me any good if someone saw me escorting two hulking barbarians out of the mountains," he gave them a wink. "You were pleasant company, and I hope to see you both again someday."

They thanked Warren, and the man, true to his word and deals, set Bezben up with a laden pack of goods for the trip. Sadly the salt-cured boar wasn't ready, but the man supplied some sun-dried rations and a mix that he said they could add water to and bake over the fire to make a cake. They were both looking forward to trying that out.

The merchant went on ahead of them.

"He wasn't half bad, as far as merchants go."

"Listen to you, Bezben. You're becoming soft in your old age."

"Pfft. I'm still harder than you, Uzca."

Uzca held up a hand made of metal and raised a brow.

"Well, that's just not fair."

They laughed and started walking toward town.

Uzca had taken his walking stick back to camp and used his knife to shave it into a more comfortable shape. He liked how it turned out, but he wanted to temper it a little with some fire just to harden it up and drive out some lingering moisture. Then he'd oil it and maybe wrap the grip with some leather if he could find some cheap enough.

The town was interesting. It had several buildings with water wheels and a sawmill with a pile of logs behind it. The mill didn't seem to be running, but it was the kind of thing that some people Uzca knew back in the mountains would kill for. Milling lumber by hand was no joke.

Other than the mill, there were a few more notable things. The one that drew their attention the most was a nearby bakery with its door open wide. The sweet smells coming from inside had both men through the door with zero discussion.

"Oh! Two more travelers. You have the look of the peaks about you, mountain folk?"

Uzca put a restraining hand on Bezben, who had already opened his mouth. It would be better if Uzca spoke on their behalf for a while.

"We are! We're heading into the lowlands to see some family."

"Oh my, isn't that nice? Whereabouts will you be heading?"

"Telestria."

The older woman let out a soft whistle.

"You boys will be on the road a long time then. You might want to catch a caravan heading out of Orzii. It'll save you at least half a week of walking."

Uzca and his father had talked about the route. They had agreed that catching a caravan would be a good idea at some point, but they didn't know how feasible that would be. For all his father knew, Orzii was ten years abandoned.

"I appreciate the tip. I have to say; I think I'm going to appreciate one of your pastries even more. That smell is divine."

The woman laughed. "Oh, you are a charmer. What can I get for you?"

Bezben hadn't liked being held back from speaking, but he appreciated the extra pastry the woman had given them for "being such charming gentlemen."

"How do you do that?" Bezben asked as they left the bakery and approached the mill. The baker said that was the fastest way through town and back onto the road toward Orzii.

"Hmm?" Uzca said with a mouth full of fruit turnover.

"Get people to do what you want. You barely said two things to that woman, and she was falling over herself to help you."

Uzca swallowed his bite before responding. "It's not that hard, Bez. You just need to actually be interested in what they're doing or have to say. Oh, and not be a giant tool. That'll be the hard part for you."

"Har har. Well, I guess I'll just keep letting you do the talking if it gets us free pastries."

Uzca couldn't argue with that.

They polished off breakfast right when they came around the side of the mill. They pulled up short when they saw a fascinating sight.

On the side of the mill, over the water where the wheel would usually be, a man was standing on the water, fiddling with some mechanisms inside the waterwheel connecting point. The man standing on the water was interesting, but they had seen someone with a gift who could do the same thing. More impressive and unfamiliar was the giant waterwheel floating in the air behind the man. That wasn't something either had seen.

The man casually used a variety of powers to apparently work on fixing the water wheel. Barely out of the mountains, and without even trying, they had already found a mage.