Nyota stirred in her sleep, snuggling closer to Liam. Her soft fur tickled his skin, bringing a smile to his face. Sarah had never clung to him the way Nyota did, wrapping her arms around him like he was the last lifejacket in an ocean full of sharks.
Ew. Why am I thinking of Sarah right now?! Stop it! She is dead. Nyota is kinder and more loving than she ever was. She’s purrfect, ah, if only we could have kids. What was Taloc thinking? Bah, I’ll die before I have the chance to give Nyota the family she deserves…
Liam opened his eyes, seeking something that might drive his dark musings away.
Relax Liam, this is a different world. You came here after being with Sarah for five years. Memories do not just evaporate in a couple of months, give yourself some time to forget!
Alright, that’s enough feeling sorry for yourself. Grandpa always told you the grass is greenest where you water it and a relationship is a yellow lawn full of crabgrass, mowing it once a week isn’t going to be enough. And the same goes for your back-hair.
Gently, he extricated himself from Nyota’s claws, taking them in his own and kissing them softly to make her release him. His gentle touch brought a thin smile to Nyota’s sleepy face, one he wished he could stare at for the rest of his life.
I never felt this happy around Sarah… He thought, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around his wife. He marveled at her platinum hair, wondering if she had always been this peaceful. It had only been a few weeks when he first arrived in this world, a rude reminder of how quickly Greenwood was crumbling.
*Puuuuurrrrrrr*
Aw, she is so cute! Like a fluffy angel of cuddles!
Five minutes later he was still kneeling beside their bed, watching her sleep. Her ears flicked once, the sudden motion catching his eye. Nyota’s fur had once been a light gray, but the dermal damage from the lightning had turned it into a uniform shade of titanium white.
An unusual side effect of Quetzalcoatl’s lightning. Liam’s gaze wandered across Nyota’s face, recalling how long it took to heal her. One day to reglove her skin, another for her nose cartilage –or was it cat-ilage–, Nyota’s ear was healed in a single cast. Conveniently leveling up his healing affinity. That had made regrowing her teeth possible, healing them one by one whenever he could triage the Sintran’s wounded.
While Liam valued his love above Green’s people, he wouldn’t let them die to give her a single tooth. Nor would Nyota have allowed him to do so, only accepting healing if the people in the hospital would recover naturally.
I should have studied harder. If I knew what comprised teeth or how they connected to the mandible I could have been more efficient.
Nyota’s eye twitched beneath her eyelid, reminding Liam of the only injury beyond his abilities entirely. Ophthalmology, the study and treatment of the eyeball and its supporting tissues was a field that would have been covered in his first two years at Johns Hopkins.
Lets see, I know the eye is a jelly filled orb, with the lens, sclera, and iris being highly specialized tissues. Ah, what were they? Membranes maybe… Crap. I know just enough about the eye to know that I understand nothing. I bet this world’s version of Socrates would call me a wise man on the topic. Ah, How am I going to heal that eye? On a wound I can heal in stages, pausing the healing when I run out of mana.
But eyes don’t work that way! I can’t regrow a lens without an iris and sclera to hold it in place, I can’t grow a sclera without the lens and iris to hold the aqueous goo inside the eye and I don’t have enough power to do it all at once! Even if I leveled up a couple of times I still won’t have enough affinity for that miracle. Dammit. I will find a way to make you whole… Maybe Rhendal can help me figure it out after we see the king.
A few tip toed moments later, Liam was dressed in his recently washed clothes. The edges of his petticoat were frayed and there was a spattering of small holes across it. Evidence of Quetzalcoatl’s lightning arcing through him. He strapped a borrowed sabre to his belt, the weapon was useless to his aged self, but nobles were expected to carry a ceremonial sword before the king.
What wasn’t useless was the staff of Avignon, which he carried with him, treating it like a cane. He slipped from the small room he and Nyota shared, closing the door with all the stealth he could manage and making every effort to grant her a little more rest before the King’s trials. One of his knights began to salute, until he saw Liam press a finger to his lips. Too early, he thought, returning the salute as smoothly as his thrice electrified joints would allow, managing a sloppy chop in answer.
Communal housing and night watchmen was in vogue; by necessity. No one dared sleep alone when a portal could drop a monster on your head, killing your whole family in the middle of the night. A fact that drove most of Sintra’s people to congregate in the largest taverns or warehouses. Large swaths of the city had been abandoned by broken families, seeking shelter from monsters in the shadow of the town barracks or near the palisade towers.
The Petran refugees compounded this trend, refusing to sleep separately from each other. Liam understood their fear, he had seen their gaunt eyes looking back towards Petra, towards the homes they had left behind. They had few earthly possessions, and losing a family member might be the last straw for some. Thankfully, Arlet had found a warehouse with an adjacent tavern and stable. The perfect place to house them and their wagons.
I wish Arlet was here, having him at my side would put my mind at ease.
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Leaning heavily on his staff he descended the tavern’s stairs. His old limp had returned after Quetzalcoatl’s lightning, and the sturdy wooden staff gave him a sense of inner quiet, in a way only solid oak could. If peace ever came to his lands, he would take the time to heal his leg with magic.
As if… I’m still thinking as though I have a future… My time is quickly running out. So many things I would like to do, and so little time. Rebuild Avignon, discuss magic and levels with Rhendal, heal Nyota’s eye, rebuild Petra, go to Kesky, find out what happened to the hedge wizards Saul and Oberon…
The list never ended. He continued listing other deeds he wished to accomplish, all the way through the tavern and up the palisade walls.
By necessity, Rhendal had been quartered in one of the palisade’s towers. Driven there by the rumorings of the common people. The sage was not an unpleasant man, but he had no patience for those without magic and as a mage with an affinity for dark magic he entered every conversation at an insurmountable disadvantage.
Eldred and the Petran militia vouched for him, as well as any who saw him obliterate their foes with fire; but their words fell on deaf ears when he appeared to summon the same portals that plagued the city. Liam climbed the steps to the palisade, mumbling greetings to the fighting men stationed atop the wall. His casual salutations were answered with sharp salutes.
Sigh… I wish they would stop doing that. Green is only a baron, and they salute me like a general. Did I do something to scare them? Arlet’s falling out should still be private. Oh man. I really hope he isn’t plotting something. Though that doesn’t seem like something he would do. It’s not his style.
Lost in thought, he found his way into Rhendal’s tower. A knight opening the unlocked door for him.
At least the knights haven’t left… yet. Crap, what am I going to do when all the knights choose Arlet over me?
His thoughts clouded his mind, cloaking Rhendal til Liam nearly stepped on his grey beard.
“Rhendal, what do you have against shirts?” Asked Liam. Confused at why he always found the man in various states of undress.
“Human cloth interferes with the flow of mana! Oh what I would give for some umbral threads, or the elves' venerable silk.” Retorted Rhendal.
Interferes with mana? I’ve never felt anything like that.
“What about the clergy? They always cast in their robes, and battle mages wear armor.” Countered Liam, confused by his postulation.
“Bah, you understand nothing. I am not trying to dominate the world or burn it to ashes! I am trying to commune with the whispers of the divine!” Spluttered Rhendal.
Liam began to wonder if the old man was cracking under the strain he had placed on him.
“Uhm. I guess I don’t. But we can save that for another day. Have you informed the capital?” Asked Liam, worrying about grander consequences.
“Yes yes, like I told you yesterday they are awaiting our portal to the castle, sending that medusa head alongside a letter was quite the tactic. Next time I opened a portal there was a whole company of royal knights waiting for me. There must have been a hundred of the gilded lilies! A squad of royal magicians as well! Ha! I shall never forget the look on their faces when I stepped through and said hello.” Chuckled Rhendal.
“Exactly as I hoped. How many other heads were you able to send? We need to make as much of an impression on the king as possible.” Asked Liam, taking a seat at the small table Rhendal used for meals.
“Quite a few, I've had two weeks to gather heads. Orcs and mermaids, then the scorpion’s claw. All have been turned over to the royal magicians, though I suspect they will take them to the college and have an appraiser like Renosipe evaluate them. He he, if he can identify it!” Said Rhendal, giggling with dark joy.
“It? Speak plainly man.” Warned Liam.
“He he he! The burning giant! I sent it’s whole head. Ah ha ha HA!” Cackled Rhendal.
Liam shivered at the thought of sending that particular skull to the king.
“Good god man! I told you to save your mana and avoid stunts like that!”
Rhendal waved his hand, as if to fan his concerns away. “Poppycock. I have plenty of power for a trip there and back. In fact, I had to test the limits of my mana. For three decades my mana has waned, until a month ago when it began to grow once more, like when I was a youth!” Said Rhendal, looking at Liam with a hungry look in his eye.
“Spending time near you and our lady seems to give me strength. A fascinating phenomenon that bears investigation.” He added quickly.
“If I fail to convince the king, can you speak to the college and recruit new mages?” Asked Liam.
“You won’t fail. Do not even let the thought enter your mind Lord Liam.” Answered Rhendal confidently.
“I failed to heal Nyota’s eye. Don’t act like I am perfect.” Countered Liam.
Rhendal’s jaw dropped and he shook his head violently. “You imbecile! You brilliant dumbass! You break the laws of nature and treat it like nothing! To even attempt such a feat is madness! The eyes are a gateway to our very souls! You cannot heal a soul, so what in all of creation would make you believe you could open an eye!”
A stream of curses and lamentations followed after. Liam ignored them, finding a seat along the wall. When Rhendal got like this it was best to let him get it out of his system, attempting to reason with him just seemed to wind him up more.
“Liam! Everything you say and do is wrong. Just wrong! You must mind your manners in front of the king! Do not mouth off, or lose your temper!” Finished Rhendal, flopping into the chair across the table from Liam.
“Has Blackwood made any moves yet?” Inquired Liam.
“Counciling you feels like talking to a rock sometimes, except the rock occasionally listens. Bah! Blackwood hides in his castle, and his towns seem unafflicted by our plague. Although, the cathedral of Avignon stands empty, save for a dozen feral umbraquins.” Muttered Rhendal.
Feral umbraquins? What does that even mean? No, I can’t be worried about them now, King Aldric is my next opponent, I cannot afford a single slip today.
“Then we have no choice. My mind is made and I will hear no more on the matter.” Stated Liam.
Rhendal scowled. Irritably drumming his fingers against the table. His jaw opened as if to speak then closed, working silently.
“Let’s eat breakfast while we have a chance. My champion of fire.” Said Liam with a smile.
“What? No! This is what I am talking about. You can’t just appoint a Champion! That word has a meaning! There is a whole ceremony that accompanies the title! Not to mention deeds and a stipend!”
“Is medusa jerky and this tower not rewarding enough? I thought wizards loved towers!” Said Liam, feigning offense.
“Ya know, Jenkins is a whole lot funnier than you.” Glowered Rhendal.
The two men glared at each other for a moment. Each trying to keep the act going for an instant longer. Liam was the first to crack, chuckling softly. Rhendal broke shortly after, laughing with true mirth.