Joe and Kendell sat in firelight, talking. They had started with just the illumination from the [Heart Fire] Joe had placed in his hearth, but that left the rest of the room in deep shadows. With Joe’s [Night Eyes], he had gotten used to getting by on moonlight or his fire spell if he needed more. While using a full bonfire to read by was overkill, the flames caused no harm, allowing them to be placed on virtually any surface. What had started as a standard healer AoE heal-over-time spell had also become one of Joe’s go-to utility spells.
Kendell solved the problem by pulling half a dozen candles from her dimensional locket, which spread a soft light around the room. She also drew forth a bowl of fresh fruit and a basket of steaming rolls. Her extra-dimensional storage item had a significant upgrade over Joe’s. Hers had a time-stop feature. Anything that entered her bag stayed in stasis until it was retrieved, meaning organic materials would not rot and hot items would not cool.
Joe added what was left of his wheel of cheese and opened a bottle of wine he had been given as a housewarming present from Runkbadok. At first, they sat recalling their favorite moments from the last couple of days until Kenda changed the subject.
“So, there is one thing I have been meaning to ask you, but we have always seemed to be focused on something else,” she began, sounding hesitant. “It’s ok if you don't want to answer … since you never really talk about it.”
“Ok, now you have my curiosity piqued. Go ahead and ask about whatever it is,” he countered, sipping the dark, purply wine the nu had gifted him.
“If you’re sure,” she started, to which Joe nodded for her to keep going. “What was your life like in the world you came from? You never talk about your past. All I know is you were very sick before you came to Illuminaria, which is why you push yourself so hard with your healing.”
“I guess I have been vague about it. Probably because I did not want to freak anyone out. To be honest, I was more than just sick. I was dying for many years, and in the end, that is how I left my world to come here. I died.”
Joe shifted in his seat, watching her face carefully. Her expression was thankfully thoughtful, not pitying.
“There are tales of the Newcomers coming to us through angelic gates. Some of them have claimed to have conquered death. Others speak of being born again. I always chalked that up to poetic lore. Not actually the truth. The One Above told us to expect and welcome the Newcomers, but there are so few of you that most have yet to meet one. All we have are sailor stories from other ports of call.”
“Well, Hawk … the One Above was unclear if I was the exception or the norm for newcomers. My best guess, though, is I’m the norm. The way he addressed me when I first got here made me think that this process was only available to those who had kicked the bucket on Earth.”
“Died?”
“Yeah. That is one of our expressions for death.”
“No weirder than ‘dropped the comb.’ Which is one of ours for it.”
“Yours makes sense. Suffer a heart attack, and you’d drop what you are holding.”
“Maybe yours has something to do with dairy farming,” she wondered, looking at her feet. She met his gaze again, assessing his features. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“Oh. No. That was just me distracting myself. I don’t mind. Okay, where to start? I guess the obvious place is what killed me. There is a disease on my old world. Cancer. It causes the body to grow incorrectly. Sometimes, it kills people quickly. Other times, slowly. With us, my family …”
Joe stopped. He had put all these thoughts away years ago, assuming he was over the old wounds. With a new lease on life, Joe felt the boxes on the dark thoughts of what he had lost creak open. He would have to face those deaths with her, now without the armor of his brave face against his own impending end.
“I was the last of us. We lost all the dogs first; my parents bred and trained dogs. Then my brother got sick. It started in his lungs. He was gone seven months later. Then, my mom, dad, and I started to show symptoms later that year. They figured out a chemical company upstream from our home had messed up and let something leak into the water tables. It got into our well.” Seeing the woman sitting across from him trying to parse out the unfamiliar concepts, Joe added. “Think of an alchemist dumping out failed potions, and that poison leaked into the water of his neighbors.”
“That is horrible. How old were you?” she asked.
“I was sixteen when I was first diagnosed. When I died, I was almost twenty-nine,” he stated flatly. He drained his glass and poured another as old, hidden feelings began to crawl out of the shadows inside him.
“I’m so sorry, Joe. We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I …” Kendell faltered.
Joe put his hand on her knee. “It’s ok,” he spoke comfortingly. He wanted to add that he understood how they had gotten here, but Joe’s emotions were running rampant. He was finding it difficult to choose the words he wanted. To fill the silence, he let loose the next thought that came to him.
“What’s worse is it wasn’t just us. It hit a lot of others who lived near us, too. It turned into a whole class action … um, how do I explain? Where I come from, money is more powerful than pretty much anything else. If someone harms you, you can make them pay. If a lot of people are harmed, they can band together to make the guilty party pay a lot. That is what happened. It is how I was able to live in hospitals and medical care facilities. When my parents passed away, I was left on my own. I was sick for over fourteen years. I had a few okay years in there. I was able to get into an assisted living ranch and have dogs again. There was a small hope that I was going to beat it. But then it came back.”
“You speak of it like something alive,” she stated, taking his hand.
Joe looked at her hand on his, trying to sort out his feelings. This was not at all what he had expected to be reliving tonight. It was not something he wanted to go through with Kenda. Or at least not tonight. He also knew he had been avoiding these thoughts of his old life at every opportunity. Why look back on all those old hurts when he had a whole new world in front of him?
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“You know. You’re right. It was an enemy to me. It was this monster that was eating me up. That had eaten my family. Something I had to try and beat.” Joe’s words faltered as a new idea occurred to him. “You know, in a way, I guess I did beat it. I’m here, and it died with my old body.”
Her eyes opened wider. “That’s a pretty macabre way to look at it, Joe.”
“Maybe, but I like it. The disease took everything I cared about from my old life. The fact that I get to keep going here, and it is rotting away back on Earth, it’s …”
Joe did not have the words, but he felt something shift inside himself. He had never looked at it this way since he had transferred here. Framing his hardship in this manner both uncovered and broke apart the hurt and fear he had buried deep inside himself. He had worn a happy mask for over a decade while struggling in an unfair fight against an unbeatable enemy. Realizing that, in the end, he had won the war filled Joe with a sense of triumph.
“Thank you!” he projected to Hawking. “I actually got to cheat death because of you.”
Instead of a direct answer from Hawking, Joe felt a heavy, warm pressure on his skin as if some great hand was squeezing his forearm. He turned his wrist to reveal a golden flickering glow shining from the symbol on his arm. The radiance lit up both his and Kendell’s faces in the soft firelight.
You have deepened your connection with the Mark of Death. You have let go of the past and embraced a new beginning. Your potential to alter the world has advanced. Nothing is forever except change itself.
“What the …,” the woman breathed in wonder. “How many secrets do you have, Joe? You’re a Mark-Bearer?”
“Oh yeah. I guess we never did talk about that. I meant to when we were talking about the battle with Sougath. It was important there, but there was so much already to explain, I kind of forgot to include the Mark. Also, the way I got it is not at all flattering. I got it for being an idiot.”
Her gaze flicked up off the glowing symbol. “That you have to explain.”
Joe groaned. “Can we save that one for later? If we do that tale now, I’m going to need to open another bottle of wine … if I have one.”
“Ok, but I am holding you to it,” she insisted, only to break out in a long yawn. “It’s been a long day.” She stopped, and suddenly, the self-assured woman looked tentative. “Do you mind if I stay?” she asked quietly. “But just stay, if that’s okay. I like you a lot, Joe, but …”
“No. I mean, YES. I’d like you to stay. I really would. And no, it doesn’t need to be anything else. I think taking it slow is a good idea.”
“‘Taking it slow’,” she repeated. “I like that.”
Quietly, the two placed their dishes on the kitchen counter, and he took her hand. They both shyly removed jackets, boots, belts, and such but mainly stayed clothed. As she settled into bed, curled in front of him, Joe's mind was a whir of emotions and thoughts. He was sure he’d never be able to settle them and sleep, meaning he would probably keep her up as well.
Once again, the wildness asserted itself, growling away anything except the joy of simple physical contact. There was a fierce feeling of protectiveness as well, which helped still his much-jumbled head.
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Kendell lifted her head from the pillow she had just used to muffle her laughter. “You mouthed off to a Knight of the Golden Edict. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t. Remember, I had only been in this world for a couple hours. Where I come from, the police, or even entitled people, are not allowed to smack somebody around for being a wiseass. And death by bitchslap is just not something anyone on Earth worries about,” Joe stated with a shrug, all while watching how the sunlight and mirth were making Kenda radiant. “I know the nobility in ancient days on my world could do whatever they wanted, but that had not yet had a chance to sink in. I was just lying on the grass in a public park, nursing a headache, and this douche-noggle started hassling me.”
Joe was on his side, propping his head up with his hand on one elbow. Kenda was lying on her stomach a few inches away, looking sideways at him with incredulous glee.
“So the next thing I know is I’m on the ground, and my [Heart Fire] had just healed me to one health. If the townsfolk had not come to my rescue, I would have died for real. Well, more for real. Dying and coming back was how I got the mark.”
“So what does yours do? I know each one is different. Mercy Suku’s sun mark is how she …”
“Mercy Suku has a prophetic mark?” Joe spluttered. “How did I not know that?”
“I thought you did. I mean, it’s not common knowledge, but the Guild knows. I figured you would have known since you worked with her, too. The way I heard it, her mark is how she became a saint and why Mairrhee loves her even though she is sworn to Myrrhcee.”
“Do you know what hers does?”
“I want to know about yours. If I tell you, will you stop sidetracking?” she huffed. When Joe nodded back, the guilder gathered her thoughts. “I don’t know much. You should ask her yourself. All I know is she can heal and protect large groups at once, and just being around her is comforting. During the Cauldrakon Event, Swift Water was the least damaged of all the districts, even though it has the flimsiest buildings. The Mercy would never admit to it, but everyone I know assumes it was her.”
“Cool. That explains so much. Just being near her, and you can’t help but feel how holy she is. Mine is more subtle. The Mark of Death is all about change. I have been wondering if it is influencing some of the abilities I have been getting lately, but I have no proof of that. It could be all Changeling.”
Joe lost himself in her freckles for a minute before she nudged him with her toe. Joe hoped she assumed he was thinking and not just staring at her. Looking toward where she had tapped him did not help. At some point in the night, Kenda had ditched her trousers. Her long shirt covered her body to mid-thigh, but her muscular legs were just as compelling as her features.
Joe wrestled his mind under control and continued speaking.
“The mark has only really asserted itself when something important is going on. Something that would mean a change for Illuminaria.” When Kendell raised an eyebrow, Joe added. “In Sougath’s case, the werebeast was on the verge of becoming a legendary monster, and I could influence that. Fort Coral really did not need some weird twist of fate against Cauldrakon, so the mark stayed silent against that beast. But those are just my guesses based on my gut feelings from the symbol. Researching the Mark and marks in general is on my to-do list. After undead.”
“Count me in. I have been curious about the marks ever since I was a kid, and I knew there was one in Fort Coral, but so far, my savant abilities don’t seem to react to them the way they do with abilities. I can see a skill description once and never forget it. Not marks. But if I’m studying you,” she said, bumping him again with her foot, “maybe it will click.”
“Works for me,” he replied, “but it and anything else can wait until after breakfast. I’m starving.”
“Fooood,” she breathed with a big grin.
Joe leaned forward to give her a kiss before sliding out of bed, only to be enveloped by a pair of powerful arms.
Their breakfast ended up being delayed for an hour.