“Merry Toathal, Felix.” Klara cried loudly to make herself be heard over the wild cheering of the crowd around her.
“Merry Toathal to you too, Klara!” The apprentice sorcerer replied equally loudly, with a huge smile on his face.
They were in the middle of Temples Square, a huge plaza at the centre of Rennhafen where the main temples of most religions were located, from the alabaster white dome of the Church of Light to the ever-blooming gardens of Pretheve. However, right now the centre of attention were the high spires of the temple of Toa, which were illuminated by magical lights and decorated with red leaves. A platform had also been erected in front of the temple, and the high priest of Toa, dressed in sombre azure and grey robes, was currently giving his blessing to the crowd gathered in front of his temple. Meanwhile, all around the square, groups of beggars were waiting for the customary Toathal presents, usually in the form of small sums of money, which the more well-off citizens were expected to give them on this occasion.
One particular beggar, an old man with a bushy grey beard wearing a long, dirty red cap on his head, approached Klara and Felix.
“Merry Toathal, young ‘uns!” He said with a toothless grin on his wrinkly face, extending his open hand towards the couple. “Do ya have sum good present for a poor ol' man like me?”
“Sure.” Felix nodded, and he rummaged in his pockets, taking out a few coins and dropping them in the waiting palms of the old man. Klara imitated him with a smile, and between the two of them they managed to almost fill the greasy hands of the beggar.
“Toa’ bless with ye, children!” The man thanked them, bowing towards them with gratitude as he pocketed the coins he had received. “Have fun tonite!”
As the man walked away to beg other people, the girl turned towards the apprentice sorcerer with a teasing smile on her face.
“You know, I think this is the first time I've seen you give something to someone else for Toathal.” She said. “How does it feel? Do you miss being the one who received the presents?”
“Not really.” Felix chuckled. “Getting presents was nice, but if that means being the poorest person around, then I’d rather pass. Besides, most of the gifts I got weren't that good anyway. Mostly just old, half broken toys or a few copper coins that my parents would always take for themselves the next day. The only nice stuff I ever got was from you and your grandpa.”
“Grandpa always tried to pick the best gifts for you.” The girl agreed. “Back then I was actually kind of jealous, since he seemed to give you more presents than he gave me.”
“Yeah, I remember that you threw a fit when I got my first knife from Karl.” The apprentice sorcerer remembered.
“Well, that was mostly because I had been wanting a knife too for a long time, but my grandpa refused to give one to me. He said that it wasn't something suitable for a little girl. I had to save up my allowance and do a lot of small jobs around the village to buy one on my own.”
Felix raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Really?” He asked. “I didn’t know that. As far as I can remember, Karl has never treated you differently just because you were a girl. I mean, he was the one that taught you how to hunt after all!”
“Yes, but that was later on, when he had given up on trying to make me behave like what he thought a proper little girl should.” Klara shrugged. “My grandpa was a bit old-fashioned in that sense, but luckily he cared more about my happiness than about his outdated values.”
Her expression became a bit more sombre, like it always happened when she thought Karl, and Felix decided to change the subject before the mood would become too sour.
“Well, knowing you the only surprise is that he didn't give up sooner.” The apprentice sorcerer joked.
“Ah ah. Really funny.” Klara replied sarcastically, but she smirked as she did so, and she seemed much less sad. “If you were still poor enough to get presents for Toathal, I'd make sure you'd get nothing.”
“Well, too bad because there is nothing I particularly wish for right now anyway.” Felix said mockingly.
“Oh really? Then you could have given me your Toathal wish, since you weren't going to use it anyway!”
“Actually, I did wish for something.” The boy replied.
“Really? Didn't you just say that you have everything you want though?”
“Well...” Felix said hesitantly. “I do, but I was mostly referring to stuff like money or objects. What I wished for is something else entirely.”
“What is it then?” Klara inquired.
“Can't tell you.” The boy replied stiffly. “It's bad luck to reveal your Toathal wishes.”
“C'mon! I’m your best friend! You know you can trust me!” The girl pleaded playfully. “I promise I won't tell anyone, no matter how juicy or embarrassing your wish was!”
“No.” The apprentice sorcerer replied, getting rather serious all of a sudden. “I won't tell you, so stop asking.”
“At least give me a hint.” Klara insisted with a huge, cheshire-cat grin on her face. “Does it have something to do with your appearance? Your beard, more specifically?”
“No.” The young man replied. “And I won't give you any hint. Period.” He then hesitated, touched his goatee and asked. “By the way, what's wrong with my beard?”
The girl laughed watching the genuinely worried expression on her friend's face.
“Nothing Felix.” She reassured him, still giggling. “It's a perfectly fine beard. Don't worry.”
“Oh, good.” The apprentice sorcerer said, but he was clearly unsure whether or not he was being taken for a fool. Then, all of a sudden, he asked: “Why are you so curious anyway?”
“Why, can't a girl be a bit curious about her best friend's wishes?” She said with a mischievous smile. “After all, I could help you make them come true.”
That declaration, for some reason, made Felix blush intensely.
“Ehr… I… I don’t think you could.” The young man stuttered. “Or at least you shouldn’t.”
“I might surprise you.” Klara insisted, suddenly getting close to Felix, enough to make him feel uncomfortable for some reason. “But we will never know if you don’t tell me.”
For a moment, Felix seemed to struggle internally, as he was clearly tempted. However, before he could make up his mind, someone suddenly called Klara’s name.
“Klara Kriegdoter? Is that you?”
A flash of irritation flashed on Klara's face at that interruption, but out of politeness she tried to hide it while she turned to see who had called her. However, as soon as she recognized that person, she immediately stopped trying to hide her anger.
A few steps from them, staring at the girl in absolute disbelief, was Vicker the Vulture, the moneylender that had tried to take Klara's home. Or at least they assumed it was Vicker, because the person in front of them looked very different. The once portly and grandfatherly old man was now gaunt and pale, had lost all of his hair and his eyes looked sunken and had an unhealthy yellow coloration. He had also lost his once bushy moustaches, and without them his nose was much more noticeable, sprouting like a curved beak from his face. Bulgy black veins climbed all over his neck like a web, and his fingers, which were clutching a cane, were blackened by illness and looked like talons.
Somewhat ironically, right now Vicker did indeed look like a vulture, albeit a dying and partially rotting one.
“Vicker?” Klara asked for confirmation, but the moneylender ignored that question, seemingly still too baffled by the sight of the girl to pay attention to her words.
“How are you alive?” The old man asked in a feeble voice, looking at her in disbelief. “You should be dead! The reports said that you died in the forest last year! Why are you...”
Vicker’s angry tirade was suddenly stopped by an outburst of coughing, and the moneylender started spatting some disgusting-looking black goo everywhere, causing nearby people to immediately give him a wide berth. By the time he managed to get a hold of himself, the old man was trembling, and looked as if he was about to fall, clutching to his cane with visible effort.
Most people would have felt pity after seeing such a pathetic display, but Klara didn't feel inclined to spare any for the moneylender. Whatever illness he got, he had it coming for him.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm indeed alive and well.” She said coldly. “Something which can’t be said for you, it seems.”
“Why you...” Vicker started to say angrily, but he was interrupted by another bout of coughs, and this time he would have actually fallen if his bodyguard hadn't grabbed him at the last moment, helping him back on his feet. “How are you alive!?!” He then asked again as he recovered his breath. “Zeno said that you were dead!”
“Zeno lied.” Klara replied. “We did get separated in the forest, but while he was captured by the goblins, Felix and I were rescued by a friend and managed to escape. Zeno was forced to work with the goblins to save his own skin and gave false reports, which included my death.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Vicker reacted to this explanation with a stunned silence. At first the moneylender looked incredulous, but then, as he slowly, as he accepted the girl’s words, his dumbfounded incredulity gradually turned into anger, and for a moment some vestige of colour returned to his face. That was short-lived, however, as soon enough he started coughing again, and once again his bodyguard had to keep him from falling. He looked so weak and pathetic that Klara actually started to feel kind of bad for him, but then memories of how he had treated her flashed in her mind and any trace of sympathy quickly dissipated.
“Well, if that's all, I'm going to leave now.” She said mercilessly. “I have much better use for my time than to waste it speaking with you. If you want the money I owed you, I've left it at Brettholz postal station for you to withdraw. With that out of the way, I have no further business with you, nor I want any. I'm not even going to ask you to give back the things you took from my home while I was away. I just want you out of my life. So goodbye Vicker. Live the days you've left to live well, and don't bother me ever again.”
And then, without further ado, she grabbed Felix's arm and marched away without turning back. The moneylender tried to call her, telling her to stop, but she ignored him, and soon enough they left him behind, losing him among the crowd.
Even then, Klara kept walking, dragging her friend along. All of a sudden, she had started feeling suffocated by all the people around her and she needed some space to breathe. Felix just followed her obediently, not saying anything but giving her concerned looks. Then they finally left Temples Square and entered a small deserted alley, which was completely dark except for a single magic lamp dangling from a corner. There, the girl finally let go of the young man's hand and crouched down on the ground, breathing frantically as she tried to calm herself down.
“Klara?” Felix asked, sounding rather worried. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just... I just needed some air.” The girl replied, still focusing on breathing and getting a hold of her emotions.
“Did seeing Vicker upset you that much?” The boy asked.
“No. It wasn't that.” She shook her head and sighed. “Or at least just not that. It's just that seeing him brought back a lot of unpleasant memories, and I felt a bit overwhelmed for a moment. But I'm fine now.” She slowly got back up. “As I said, I just needed a breath of fresh air.”
Felix studied her for a moment, making sure she was telling the truth. Since she did seem fine now, he relaxed a bit.
“Well, if you say so.” He said. Then, with a faint smile, he tried to make a joke to lighten the mood: “However, if it helps, I could go back and set Vicker's shoes on fire for you.”
“No need.” Klara replied. “As I told him, all I really want is not having to see him ever again. Besides, it seems that he already got his comeuppance. I don't know what kind of illness he got, but it doesn't look good.”
“Yeah.” The apprentice sorcerer concurred. “He did look like he had a foot in the grave already.”
“Let’s hope that he’ll get the other foot in there soon as well.” The girl said. “So that I won’t risk meeting him ever again.”
“That's cold Klara.” Felix commented with a smirk.
“The only warmth Vicker will ever get from me would be if I was asked to set him on fire.” The girl replied.
“Well, as I said that's something I could definitely help you with.” The apprentice sorcerer laughed.
“I'm sure you could. But now let's stop talking about Vicker. He's already soured the mood enough.” For the first time since the moneylender had interrupted them the girl smiled again. “Anyway, back to our previous conversation, you still didn't tell me what you wished for.”
“Again with that?” Felix shook his head. “I already told you that I don't want to tell you.”
“How about a trade?” Klara proposed. “I tell you my wish, and you tell me yours. Would that work for you?” She smiled and, before Felix could answer, she added: “I'll tell you mine first. And if you don't think it's worth telling me yours, then you can keep it a secret. Deal?”
The apprentice sorcerer thought about it for a moment and then shrugged.
“Well, if you really want, you can tell me your wish, but I must warn you that I probably still won't tell you mine.” He said.
“We'll see about that after I've told you my wish.” The girl said in a confident tone. “Now, come closer, so that I can whisper it to you.”
“Why can't you tell me normally?” Felix asked. “There is no one around.”
“We can never be too sure.” She said cheerfully. “There could be someone hidden around listening to us, after all. Now, come a little closer and crouch down a little, so that I can reach your ear.”
“You're going to pull some kind of prank on me, aren't you?” The young man asked.
“Maybe.” Klara replied. “But it's going to be worth it, believe me. So please come closer.”
With a resigned sigh, the young man decided to play along and did as he was told, crouching a little and bracing himself for whatever was coming. Despite this preparation, however, he was still taken completely by surprise when the girl suddenly grabbed his head and started kissing him on the lips.
He was so flabbergasted that for a moment his brain shut down completely, letting the girl do what she wanted while he stood there absolutely stunned. The kiss went on for a little while, and only when Klara stopped and took a step back the apprentice sorcerer recovered enough from the surprise to speak again.
“K-Klara!?” He stuttered, blushing violently. “W-what was t-that?”
“Me kissing you.” She replied sarcastically. “What else did you think it was?”
“B-but why did you do that?”
“Take a wild guess.” Klara replied rather sharply, crossing her arms. “Why would a girl kiss a boy?”
Felix blushed even harder, to the point that the colour of his skin almost matched that of his hair.
“Does that mean that you... like me?” He asked, with a voice that sounded almost scared.
“No, you doofus.” The girl said. “It means that I love you.”
Silence followed that declaration, as Felix remained completely still with a shocked expression on his face. After a few seconds, Klara started to feel her heart sinking, fearing that maybe the apprentice sorcerer didn't reciprocate her feelings after all. But then, all of a sudden, the apprentice sorcerer's expression changed, brightening to the point that it almost seemed to actually emit light, and the young man stepped forward, grabbing the girl's shoulder between his arms.
“I love you too Klara.” He said. And then he kissed her, making all of the girl's worries dissipated like mist under the summer sun. She returned the kiss with passion, pressing her body against his and putting her arms around his waist. An incredible heat radiated from the boy, to the point that he should have been almost scalding, but for some reason that didn't bother Klara. On the contrary, that warmth felt positively delightful, as if it was an extension of Felix's embrace. They stood like this for a few minutes, completely forgetting about the rest of the world as they kept kissing and hugging each other, while the snow around them started to melt because of the heat produced by the young man.
In the end, when they stopped kissing, no snow or ice remained in a three metres radius around them.
“So... what about your wish then?” She asked rather sardonically. “Do you feel like telling me now?”
“To be honest, I think that my wish just came true.” Felix replied. “Now I really do have everything I could ever want.”
And then the two started kissing each other again, wasting no more words. The last thought Klara had before focusing exclusively on kissing the boy was that she really ought to thank Marcus the next day.
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Vicker was feeling absolutely miserable.
After his encounter with Felix and Klara, he had to be rushed to the temple of the Lord of Light in order to get urgent treatment, and now he was lying in a bed in the sanatorium, a large room filled with rows of beds in which everything was of an immaculate white, from the walls to the bedsheets and even the marble floor. Despite the late hour, several priests were also present, giving their ministrations to the few patients that were still awake, but despite that activity the room was still very quiet, a safe haven from the chaos of the outside world. An almost palpable aura of peace and holiness filled the place, together with a pleasant smell of incense and medicines that would put almost everyone at ease. However, that wasn’t nearly enough to soothe Vicker. Not even the fact that he was feeling much better after a cleric had finished operating his healing miracles on him had done anything to improve his mood, which was sort of understandable considering that he was still dying.
It had been about a year since his health had taken a nosedive. He had contracted a mysterious illness, the likes of which he had never even heard of, and despite his efforts he simply couldn't get rid of it. He had hired the best healers in all of Medelan, from famous doctors to the head priests of several temples, but no one had been able to find a cure or even just identify the exact nature of that disease. The best they could do was to treat the symptoms, but that was only a temporary solution, since Vicker’s condition would worsen again in a matter of days. Even worse, with time the old man was growing more and more weak despite the healer’s efforts, to the point that he was almost always bedridden by now. And though no doctor or cleric that had visited him had outright told him that, Vicker could tell from their expression that they thought that he didn't have much longer left to live.
The moneylender grimaced. The irony of the situation was what irked him the most. Right now he was richer than ever, to the point that he could basically afford anything he may have ever wanted... and yet, he was about to lose everything.
All because of that damn curse.
Vicker had suspected for a long time that his disease was related to the curse on the Chronicles of Alhareziel. After all, it was quite an easy correlation, since he had started getting sick mere weeks after he had sold that damn book. But now that he had seen Klara alive, his suspects had been confirmed. The moneylender silently chewed himself for having basically forgotten about the girl after getting the book. If he had kept a tab on his activities in Brettholz, he’d have known that Klara was alive much sooner, but sadly he had been too busy to really take care of his business. However, most of all he cursed against Zeno for giving him false information.
“That damn waste of skin lied to me!” He thought bitterly. “That must be why he didn't come back to get paid after the conflict with the goblins ended! He must have hidden himself in some hole like the dirty worm he is! But I swear I'll find him and I'll make him pay if it's the last thing I do!”
He entertained the thought of taking revenge on the sorcerer for a bit, before dropping it. Though it would have been satisfying, it wouldn't have solved anything. Instead, he would have to find a way to survive.
He meditated about how to accomplish that, now that it was sure that the curse was the cause of his illness. He knew next to nothing about curses, only that the most powerful ones —like the one he got— were very nasty and not even high ranking clerics could always cure them, and given that no one had even been able to identify his condition, Vicker didn’t hold much hope that they could help him. However, he had heard that some specific rituals or relics could sometimes lift curses, or at least weaken them. The problem was that those kinds of rituals were often considered a form of dark magic, and researching them was frowned upon, if not actually outlawed. Only very few sorcerers would dare delve into such dangerous subjects, and they didn't really advertise that, so finding them would normally be very hard.
However, Vicker just might actually know such a sorcerer. It was the same man that had bought the Chronicles from him. He had quite a reputation on the black market: a collector of dangerous artefacts that was always true to his word and paid well, either in money or with specific magical services that couldn’t be obtained anywhere else.
However, despite being basically out of any other option, Vicker still felt some hesitation to ask such a favour from that sorcerer. He knew for certain that doing so would place him squarely under the man’s thumb, and there would be no getting out of there afterwards. The collector was famous for always getting his due, one way or another, and tales of what had happened to those that had tried to cheat him were horrific enough to discourage even the most daring scoundrel in the underworld. Moreover, Vicker had met that person once, when he had given him the book, and he was quite scared of him. A lifetime of dealing with people had made him quite adept at reading people, and he had no doubt that the sorcerer was by far the most dangerous individual he had ever met in his life.
Still, despite his reluctance, there really was no other option, so Vicker decided that he would try to contact that person as soon as possible. Word was that he was still in Medelan for some reason, so it shouldn’t take too long to arrange a meeting with him.
“If there is anyone that can help me, that’s Dar.” Vicker thought.
As he made this resolution, he felt a little hope returning to him and he closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep. He would need all of his wits if he was to make a deal with the Black Sorcerer.