Novels2Search
Lillandra
Chapter Forty-One: Shell's Birthday

Chapter Forty-One: Shell's Birthday

"Another beautiful day," Sir Estil remarked, looking up at the sheer blue of the sky.

Arai could only agree: the weather had been wonderful since they had left Prestoris. The days had been sunny and the evenings had been brisk, and it hadn't rained in days. After spending the last few weeks marching through heavy Skirrish fogs, and suffering under the Aeromancer's never-ending storms, this pleasant weather came as a welcome relief.

According to Sir Estil, the western portion of Galleus -- that portion which abutted the Scarred Lands -- was mostly dry and desert-like. They were still hundreds of miles from the desert, but this warmer, drier weather was already starting to become evident. There were fewer farms here, and the towns and villages they rode through were usually situated near lakes, rivers, and other sources of fresh water.

There were four of them now -- Arai, Lillandra, Shell, and Sir Estil -- and they had horses now. Arai and Lillandra rode together, on a big, friendly palfrey named Jennie, while Sir Estil and Shell rode on a gigantic black warhorse which had been given the name Duke. The knight had warned them not to get too attached to the horses, for they would have to give up them up when they reached the Scarred Lands -- camels were the preferred mounts for crossing the desert -- but Arai and Lillandra both had already warmed to their horse, and Shell had fallen in love with Duke, despite the fact that the big horse was always trying to nip her.

The horses made their journey much easier, as did the favorable weather. The only thing slowing them down now were the celebrations which had erupted throughout Galleus, following the death of the Aeromancer and the apparent end of the war with Grand Skir. Every town and village was throwing some kind of party, it seemed, and whenever Sir Estil was recognized (which was often; the knight seemed to know everyone, and to be known by everyone) the locals would insist on feting him, feeding him huge meals and insisting that he tell them the story of the Aeromancer's downfall. And Sir Estil, unfailingly polite, was always forced to oblige them. It was a little wearying.

They slept in inns, mostly, but they slept beneath the stars, too, camping out on the side of the road, cooking their dinners over crackling campfires. In addition to his other skills, Sir Estil also happened to be an excellent cook, and the meals he made for them were a huge improvement over the the rather spare offerings Arai and Lillandra cooked up.

One evening, after yet another wonderful meal, the four of them found themselves gathered around the fire -- Arai, Lillandra, and Shell chatting amiably, while Sir Estil played a lively tune on his penny whistle. It was a magical evening, and for the first time in a long time, Arai felt himself at ease. They still had a long journey ahead of them, and the Scarred Lands were sure to be brutal, but they had successfully crossed Addis and the Bay of Vandals, narrowly escaped death in Grand Skir, and finally acquired a pair of horses. They had plenty of money now, and Sir Estil, who was beloved all over Galleus and knew the land well, was the perfect guide.

And, against all odds, he had somehow managed to make friends with Lillandra. She was traveling with him of her own free will now, and she had agreed to reverse the spell of stone she had cast on Odo and Maya when they returned to Velon. They trusted each other. They understood one another.

He wasn't exactly content -- he was still worried about his friends in Velon, and still apprehensive about what might lie in store for them in the Scarred Lands, Elent, and the Holy Empire -- but he felt better about his situation than he had in a long time.

Lillandra and Shell seemed to be in a similar mood; Shell actually managed to make Lillandra laugh a couple of times after dinner, which was rare. Shell herself eventually grew pensive, though, especially after Sir Estil started playing his whistle. Lillandra asked her if anything was wrong.

"No," she sighed. "Just thinking about my sister. She played the flute, too."

Sir Estil's playful tune died away. "If it's bothering you--"

"No, no," she said. "I like your playing. It's just...making me think."

"That one so young should be forced to endure such hardships..." Sir Estil shook his head sadly. "How old are you, Shell?"

"Eleven," she said, but then she stopped. "Or, actually...I might be twelve now. What's the date?"

It took them a while to figure it out -- the Velonese calendar was totally different from the Gallean calendar, and both of them were different from the calendar used by the Addish and the elves of Turuval, Turuni, and Elvinine. After a few minutes spent comparing the dates, Sir Estil determined that Shell had, in fact, turned twelve just a few days ago.

"Congratulations," Arai told her.

"Is there something special about turning twelve?" she asked.

"Well, in Velon, at least, it's the age at which most boys and girls begin their apprenticeships," he said. "They move away from their parents and board with their master for a few years, until they become journeymen. It's the first step on the path to adulthood."

"Squires usually begin their training after they turn twelve," Sir Estil added. "It is an auspicious age."

"Well, that's good to know, I guess," she said, rather doubtfully. "But the more important question is, where are my gifts?"

Arai and Lillandra looked at her blankly. "Gifts?"

"You have to give me something for my birthday," she said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Don't you know?"

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The two of them were so confused that Sir Estil was obliged to explain it to them: "It's customary to give people gifts on their birthday," he said. "Do you not have that tradition in Velon?"

"It's the opposite in Velon," Arai said. "We give gifts to our parents on our birthdays, to show them our appreciation for having us, for raising us."

"That's no fun," Shell declared. "And I don't have any parents anymore, anyway."

Arai exchanged a glance with Lillandra. "I suppose we could buy you something," Arai said uncertainly. "Is there anything in particular that you want?"

She smiled at them, in a wily sort of way. "I'll have to think about it."

* * *

The next morning they arrived at a picturesque town called Lark, which was situated on the southern shore of Lake Tapyrus. Tapyrus was the largest lake in Galleus, and according to Sir Estil, one of the largest in the known world; however, it was a briny lake, with very high salinity, and the locals had to look elsewhere for fresh water. The lake itself was beautiful, though, and it was so large that to Arai it looked more like a sea than a lake. It was filled with birds, and a handful of islands were visible in the distance.

Lark was quite a bit larger than the smaller villages they had passed through since leaving Prestoris, and it had quite a few shops, inns, and taverns. "Let's go shopping for my birthday present," Shell suggested.

Arai and Lillandra shrugged and allowed the elf girl to lead them down the street. Sir Estil parted with them, looking for a place to stable their horses; they arranged to meet in the town square at noon. Shell's first stop was an antique shop of some kind, but she found nothing she wanted here, so they moved on, to a dealer in maps and books and then to a shop which sold glassware. But nothing appealed to her in the glassware shop, and most of the dealer's books were written in the Gallean script, which none of them could read.

Arai found all this shopping around rather boring. He was just about suggest giving it up for the morning when Shell suddenly spotted yet another shop -- a shop which, according to the drawing on the signboard, sold potions and philtres. "This could be interesting," Shell said. "Let's have a look."

Arai dutifully followed the girls into the shop. The inside was extremely cluttered -- it was full of baskets and boxes -- and it smelled very strange, very pungent. Ingredients of all kinds were stacked up on shelves or lined up in labeled jars: black powders, chunks of sulfur, weeds, leaves, dried flower petals, honeycombs, blobs of paraffin, crushed insects, and a hundred other things, all totally disorganized.

Working behind the counter, furiously grinding something with a mortar and pestle, was a somewhat comical-looking young woman wearing a big, floppy hat. Her eyes were hazel, and her face was full of freckles.

"Good morning!" she greeted them cheerfully. "What can I do for you today?"

Shell gave the clutter a skeptical look. "You sell potions here?"

"Potions, philtres, restoratives, and concoctions of all kinds," she affirmed. "Is there something specific you're looking for? My name is Emi, by the way. I'm the owner of this shop."

"Nice to meet you," Shell said. "But no, we're not looking for anything in particular. Just browsing."

"Well! Perhaps I can show you a few things." She finished her grinding with the mortar and pestle and started crawling up the shelves, pulling down various small bottles and vials and setting them down on the counter. "I've got sedatives, healing potions, potions that improve eyesight, potions that eliminate body odor, love philtres, spagyrics, truth serums, luck medicines..."

"All genuine?" Arai asked. In his experience, most potion vendors tended to be frauds, their potions only rarely having any effects at all.

"Absolutely," Emi said confidently. "All of my potions are absolutely guaranteed to work, or your money back. I'm not a quacksalver, I'll have you know; I'm a true witch, and these potions were all personally brewed by me."

Arai glanced at Lillandra, who nodded. "She's not lying," she said. "Not about being a witch, anyway."

Emi's eyes went wide when she noticed Lillandra. "My goodness! You're a sorceress, too, I see. Would you be interested in exchanging recipes, perhaps?"

"I don't have any recipes, I'm afraid, apart from the Witch's Brew and a couple of mild sedatives. I've never had much luck with potions."

"That's too bad."

"What's this one?" Shell interrupted, holding up a bottle. "There's no label."

Emi grinned. "Ah," she said. "I invented that one myself. I call it Emi's Amazing Silencer -- a single draught of that potion will render a man or woman unable to speak for up to three days."

"Why would anyone want a potion like that?"

Emi's smile faded a bit. "Well, there's any number of circumstances, I'm sure..."

Arai and Lillandra, meanwhile, began browsing around the shop. "What is all this stuff?" Arai wondered, examining the baskets full of wheat and the boxes full of base metals.

"Potions like the ones she sells require a lot of different ingredients."

"Do they really work?" he asked. He was still skeptical.

"If she's a real witch, and if she's following the recipes correctly, sure. My grandmother used to make potions and philtres; she was pretty good at it."

"Is it anything like making a zemi?"

She shook her head. "There's no spells or calculations involved. It's quite a simple process, really. A sorceress gathers together the necessary ingredients and uses raw magia to unlock the hidden potential already inherent within them."

"No spells?"

"No spells. Stirring the magia to the point where it will begin to interact with the ingredients can be a little tricky, but it's nowhere near as difficult as casting a spell. The strongest potions require very rare ingredients, though, and the effects of most potions usually wear off after a few days anyway. I've never found them all that useful." She made a sour face. "And most witches are reluctant to give up their recipes. I'm surprised this Emi even suggested it."

"What about the Witch's Brew you mentioned? What's that?"

"Ah, that's kind of a special case. Do you remember the cauldron I used back in Ada, the one I used to create the Stone of Many Tongues?"

"I remember you filled it up with river water and grass clippings and things like that."

She nodded. "That's the Witch's Brew. It's necessary for making a cauldron and a few other kinds of zemi. It's a very old recipe, probably one of the first ones ever invented."

"I see."

Lillandra seemed pretty dismissive of potions and their usefulness, but Shell was very interested. "I think I'd like to buy a couple of these," she told Arai and Lillandra, pointing to the bottles Emi had lined up on the counter.

"Which ones?" Arai asked.

"There's one here that improves your vision," she said, pointing to one bottle, "and another one that heals injuries. That could come in handy, don't you think?"

"I suppose it could," Arai agreed, studying the two bottles. One contained a bright pink liquid, while the other was blue. "How much?"

Emi agreed to part with the potions for three Gallean silvers. It took her a while to find her accounting book, however, to record the transaction, and in the process she spilled the powder she had been grinding up all over the counter. The little witch was very clumsy, it seemed, and more than a little disorganized.

But Shell was satisfied. Pleased with her birthday presents, she skipped out of the shop, and together, the three of them made their way to the town square to find Sir Estil.