The winter solstice came and passed, and we celebrated with mulled wine which was a tradition here in the south, and with some pan-fried sea bream that Iskander caught and some salted bread. Food did not seem to be a problem in the province, and it was a very pleasant evening.
Thus began the year 1189.
Soon after, Patricia de-Braccarte went back to her massive estate in Collard, built right along the coast but with a fantastic view of the mountains. She said during the summer months the sunset shines beautifully upon the red cliffs and the wind is always quiet then.
More weeks drifted by with the peaceful rhythm of daily tasks. Each day seemed to blend seamlessly into the next, and the once-dormant estate began to transform into a place where people lived and made their homes. Then, slowly at first but then faster and very noticeably, the days grew longer and the sunrise came ever earlier. The wind was warm and soft and green things sprouted from under the ground, and nubs of leaves appeared on the branches.
The surrounding land gently burst into a new life and delightful smells sprung up in every nook and cranny. Not a single day passed that a new leaf or stalk had not appeared somewhere. More small and large sail ships appeared on the Casliera Bay that went along purposefully, most heading to Lottie or Pianneturre, while others stopping by the smaller towns and villages all along the coast.
Florencia and I went into the many nearby stores and places to buy furniture, and Iskander and Jaxine worked many hours to repair those pieces that they found could be salvaged. We paid cuenos for many niceties, new colorful dishes from the village, tools, carpets, and many more things that made Villa Occo homely. No longer did Florencia and I sleep on the floor, upon old blankets and coats and dusty pillows. Now we had a proper bed, made by the local carpenter and his four sons, and with clean linens and woolen things to keep us warm. Though the days were warm now, and we went around the estate without our thick coats on, every now and then a colder day came about.
*
“It promises to be a fine spring,” said Giosafar, leaning against the edge of his horse-drawn wagon. He was our already familiar traveling merchant, with a face that had been smiling for most of his long life. He came by every other morning and brought us fresh bread, baked that very morning, and milk, also milked that very morning. “The air’s sweet and smells of earth. The wife and I think it’s going to be just a fine spring.”
“You’re right,” said Florencia. “But I sense the evening might bring a bit of rain.” She handed him a few cuenos for the milk and bread.
“Does your fine sense tell you that?” asked Giosafar, without a hint of sarcasm. Sarcasm seemed to be frowned upon here, and we got used to it rather quickly.
“Sometimes it tells me the weather,” said Florencia with a smile. “But this time, it’s those clouds over there.” She pointed at thick and threatening clouds in the north. “By the way, Giosafar, do you happen to have some fresh wine or cider, by any chance? We’re tired of drinking vintage.”
“Just so happened to crack open a cask last night,” said Giosafar with a smile, and they made a good deal for five bottles each. With a casual wave, he rode on his wagon, merrily whistling away.
When we first talked with Giosafar, he had told us that it is known in Pania, that the soil was said to be so fertile that a single seed sown would yield a harvest fivefold. But for him, his next stop would be Solvio, the village a few miles down the road that had many skilled potters and carpet makers.
Apparently, the clay here was very good, and very vibrant colors could be made from the rich materials found nearby. Most were endless shades of red, orange, and teal. For all those weeks I’d been in Villa Occo, I was still not used to the rich colors that seemed to be everywhere.
Florencia took the foodstuffs back into the kitchen, humming some song she had heard a while back, and I put the bottles away into the cellar. We had over the weeks made enough room in the racks for plenty of new bottles of drinks as we had depleted many of the older ciders wines or liqueurs.
“Jonas, this place is like a dream,” said Florencia and put on her apron, still messy from the previous evening’s cooking.
The five of us all gathered around the dinner table, which Iskander had just oiled the previous night, and Florencia began making some warm lemonade drinks with plenty of sugar and marmalade and a peppermint leaf.
“It certainly feels like a dream…” I mumbled.
Our struggles the previous year seemed so distant that they almost didn’t even happen.
Almost.
But as spring had come, so did we all feel a change in atmosphere. Goxhandar was beginning to grow agitated and restless, though he made no complaints to me, which was new. The lively energies around us kept him occupied, but for a sentient being borne from violence, the calm things in the world would feed his appetite only for so long.
And it was also true that a sense of pressure began to emerge within the depths of everyone’s hearts. We had spent enough time in rest and enjoyment, and the knowing that the Enemy had not been idle, left us anxious.
In Jace’s case, he felt the worry most acutely, and voiced his concerns first.
“I should be so much further along in my studies!” he said, sitting and looking into an empty glass of wine that he had just downed. The warm marmalade drink steamed before him, still untouched. “I’m not progressing at all… I keep reading the same lines in my books and I feel like the truths are barely out of my reach.”
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“You can’t learn everything from books. You need practice,” said Iskander, sitting beside him but with an air of calm around him. He seemed to be the most resistant to our growing worries.
“I’ve been practicing, and if I were to study runes that would enhance the quality of the soil, or to accelerate the growth of plantlife, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of practice. But you know very well what I’ve been focusing on, Iskander…” He straightened his posture and his eyes sharpened. “The Enemy is moving! I can sense it. Every morning I look over the bay and know that they’re gathering strength. I imagine the terrible things that are going on there and feel powerless to do anything about it. And whenever the wind comes from the east, I swear I can almost smell their vileness! And what are we doing? Gardening!”
“We are taking a well-deserved rest, Jace,” said Iskander. “You heard the lords say that we have time now before everything goes to shit again.”
“But they don’t know that!” Jace countered. “None of us know—”
Suddenly there was a strong shift in energies, like a foreign gust of wind coming from an unexpected direction. All fell silent, expanding their acute senses outward.
Florencia jumped up, threw her apron onto the table, and took her priceless sword that I’d been admiring for all this time. Jace and Iskander both, mirroring each other’s movements, grabbed their weapons as well—which we always had close by, even though we never even had a hint of needing them.
Quickly everyone had gathered outside before the fountain, and we waited.
“Who’s coming?” asked Jace, frowning and palming the worn bronze pommel of his bastard sword.
“The incoming energies are strange to me, Master. Though one has a… These are not the King or the Councilor or their servants!” said Goxhandar.
“No, they are not! But I have met them before.”
I knew who they were.
We stood silently and waited until the riders emerged from behind the trimmed cypress trees and the white gravel dust covered the spines and branches.
Who came were a young man and woman, in their early thirties, with blond hair and wrapped in frayed scarfs and cloaks. Both of them had thin lips and light grey eyes, and their shoulders were slouched as if they were carrying a heavy burden. Immediately I sensed their spirits were gravely wounded and only partially healed.
And beside them rode a woman with raven-black hair and eyes a shade of dark violet, riding atop her heavily burdened horse, looking lively but anxious.
“It’s the Russo twins!” shouted Florencia. “I thought they had forgotten about us.”
Our guests were indeed the Russo twins. They were the two injured siblings that I saved all that time back in Veneiea when I first returned to my home world. It was Lorena Russo’s golden pin of the Yasman Lodge that caught my attention, and I dug them out from under piles of rubble and debris. But before we could even exchange words, the Beast of Veneiea came. Both Arne and Lorena had seen the monster with their own eyes and knew what a terrible fate had happened to their aspirants.
The twins were now amongst the ranks of people in Lienor who had seen an actual demon with their own eyes, and lived. They joined the noble ranks like captain Attonio and the few surviving corisseri. And their reward for their terrible ordeals was being mind-wiped by Philemon Petridies, and giving false testimonies against me and Florencia.
Luckily, after the Hearing of Sanermo, they were taken under the care of the apothecaries of the Tower of Aarnost, the palace of the King, and said to have made a decent recovery. Now, they had finally come to see their old colleagues from the Academy, though I had never expected to see them again. I assumed they would go away somewhere far, and never play a part in the upcoming war.
But I was wrong.
They dismounted their horses, and with eyes that had this apathy to them, greeted Florencia and Jace with faint smiles, shaking their hands. They held their elbows tucked, almost afraid to make sudden movements, and spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. Lorena was mostly silent and let her brother do the talking.
While the four exiles of the Academy talked, Viola Grimaldi came to me, Iskander, and Jaxine.
“I could hardly wait,” she said, her eyes alight. “But you told me to wait until spring, so I did. Winter lingered in Lottie and it’s still colder than normal. But it’s much nicer here, as I keep hearing. Warmer. Jonas, I’m eager to get started. I’m dying to know what you know. You failed on your promise two times now, you know?”
“You’ll get your answers very soon, Viola,” I said but that did little to calm her.
“How did they and you get here at the same time?” asked Iskander, flanked by Jaxine, who had mellowed up in the absence of Patricia.
“The twins just suddenly showed up at my office!” said Viola. “My sergeant said I had guests, and because I never have guests, I let them in. Curiosity got the better of me. They came in and immediately asked for you, Jonas. Somehow they knew that you had been here before…” She looked away at the twins, and then back to me, “they were adamant about seeing you. I felt compelled to comply with their request. I’m sorry if I made a mistake bringing them here.”
“It is fine, Viola. I’m happy you’re here,” I said with familiar warmth in my voice. I always liked Viola, so it was genuine. She sensed it. “But like I said last year, our work has not even begun yet.”
“I want answers, Jonas. Work can wait. I feel like I’m splitting at the seams, needing to know what you know!”
“How are things in Lottie going?” asked Iskander, deciding to slow things down.
“Mostly quiet, but we had some violent attacks here and there. And a few killings that were… confusing. Luckily we caught the guilty—”
“What happened to them?”
“I wasn’t part of the investigation,” said Viola. “And because I already gave my letter of intent to resign, I wasn’t allowed close. The one who was caught was executed quickly, though.”
Iskander frowned.
“Now, please Jonas, show me that I didn’t come here for nothing. That I didn’t leave my job for false promises!” said Viola.
“Viola, you must understand one thing before we even begin. What you are about to hear is more than a secret—”
But before we could continue with her, the Russo twins approached, their presence disturbing the flow of energies unpleasantly.
“Jonas!” said Arne Russo, standing taller than Iskander, but he was lean and thin, and his youthful eyes were sunken and dark. He almost seemed to have a shadow enveloping him, but there was also a light burning in the recesses of his soul. That gave me hope.
“A fire that needs kindling, Master!” said Goxhandar. “It would be a mighty waste to disregard them by their appearance. I sense they have much hidden within them.”
“We came here to thank you, Jonas, for saving our lives,” said Arne Russo, his sister standing behind him. There was pride hiding under a cover of grief. “Without you and your friendship with the Royal Advisor Pitties, me and my sister’s mind would’ve been lost. We would be walking imbeciles by now. I detest Ardovar and Philemon over what they did to us, breaking our minds to cover their own failures. They sacrificed their own subordinates to save face. But what they did paled in comparison to what we saw in Veneiea. We understand that this is the real war we must fight. Jonas, we came here to repay our debt to you. We offer our lives and future to the service of the Order of Hiskandrios!”
And thus it was that not Florencia or Jace or even the spirited Viola were the first to offer themselves to join the Order of Hiskandrios. It was the Russo twins, the first friendly faces I encountered in this world after returning from the nightmarish realm.
A rather fitting coincidence.