The king stared long and hard at Wali. The piercing gaze of the man washed over Wali with magical power. While intrusive, the gaze was not hostile. The king said, “You are the one they call Wali, correct?” The king asked.
“Yes, your highness,” Wali said carefully.
“You are a Colri, are you not?” The king asked, his tone clearly controlled.
“Yes, your highness,” Wali responded again, growing concerned by the king’s darkening demeanor.
“Do you know that your kind is banned from my lands?” The king asked coldly.
“No, your highness, I did not know that,” Wali replied, blanching.
“Since you did not know, I will not hold it against you. But you can tell that bastard Sandvine that there is still a price on his head in my kingdom. Do you know whom I speak of?” Venom dripped from the king’s words.
“Yes, your highness, I do know of Sandvine.” Wali decided that the less information about his life or how Sandvine was a father figure that the king found out, the better.
“Do you know how he soiled the royal line and nearly caused a civil war in these lands? Did he tell you of his banishment and the bans on Colri in my lands?” The king was red in the face now.
“No, your highness. He did not.” Wali said, holding a poker face.
“I can tell that you are not lying to me. Your actions and brilliant ploy with the fire barrels were of great service to my kingdom.” The king seemed to master his emotions, and his color returned to normal. “I will give you special dispensation for traveling within the elven kingdom. Just stay away from my daughters.” The king said, with one final bite of anger.
Trickster cackled, his voice only audible to Wali, “There’s a story there; I can smell it.” Wali assented silently. When Wali got back to the Village, Sandvine would have some explaining to do.
The king opened the chest at his feet, “All of that history aside. Young master Wali, I name you as a Champion among my people.” He handed a blade hilt first to Wali. It was identical to the one presented to Yacob. Wali thanked the king and sheathed the blade with more grace than the other man had, but not much more.
The king returned to his throne and said to the crowd present. “In celebration of this victory, as a memorial for Marshal Elimon and the fallen of the army, we will hold a celebration in three days. The doors to the palace will be opened, and a feast will be held.” The king announced.
The steward led the chests and porters into the room and directed the companions to an empty side chamber.
The steward grimly waited for the porters to leave the chests. The steward said cooly to the companions when the doors closed behind them. “The king wishes you our gratitude but asks that you depart as soon as you are able. He does not wish that the acrimony of the royal family be on display for the celebration.”
Wali shook his head and, with a sour taste, said, “I get it. We can depart from here shortly.”
The steward nodded. “Inside the chests, you will each find a ring. That ring is the control device for the chest. The chest itself is an extra-dimensional storage device. There are other treasures inside the chest as your rewards—many royal families sent along gifts as appropriate. I myself wish to thank you for me and mine. I am grateful. I will lock the door behind me, so you are not disturbed.” He turned and left the room, locking it behind him.
The companions all looked around and at one another.
“What the fuck was that about?” Wali said, looking at Vinny.
Vinny pursed his lips and looked around the room. “There’s a reason we went cross country to Marsai’s. This is why. One reason is that non-elves are not welcome here as a basic rule, and the second is that Colri are flatly banned from entering the cities.”
Yacob looked at him and asked the question on everyone’s mind, “Why?”
Vinny shrugged, “Rumor has it that a wandering Colri killed the crown princess, heir to the throne and all that. The elves almost went to war over it. I’m sure that isn’t the entire story, though.”
Wali shook his head. Sas’cha interjected, “That is not the whole story. He was her lover, and the crown could not handle the fact that she would debase herself with a dirty human. They sent an assassin to kill them both and make it look like some sort of suicide. The Colri got away, however. Very tragic, very romantic.” She batted her eyes at Wali, who blew her a kiss.
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“Gross, you two,” Yacob said, faux barfing.
They all fell to laughing as the stress of the last few days burst over them. They laughed and cried with one another for a long time.
Vinny was the first to open his chest of rewards. Inside he found a platinum ring covered in tiny scripting tied to the inside of the lid. He put this on and felt it bind to him. He instinctively commanded the chest to disappear, which was gone in a blink. The others marveled at this and swiftly did the same. Yacob would carry Marsai’s chest of rewards when Wali reopened the portal.
Three hours later, Wali stood and channeled power into the triple runic circles in the center of the room. He felt the mana pour from his body, rapidly draining his reserves. One thing about his enormous mana pool was that it took him a whole week of constant meditation over a ley line to refill completely.
The portal formed much as it had before. Yacob stepped through first, followed by Sas’cha and Vinny. Wali stepped through last as the chalk behind him burned away into ash.
They all felt the density of mana wash over them. It was rejuvenating and oppressive at the same time. Eiko was waiting for them. He looked at Yacob and took the chest, saying, “Th-th-the mistress will see you at d-d-dinner. P-please rest until t-t-then.” In his clicking way.
The four each headed up to their rooms. Wali sat on his bed and lay back, instantly falling asleep. He was woken sometime later by a knock. Eiko informed him that dinner was in an hour. He swiftly washed and changed into the blue pajamas everyone wore around the house.
Dinner was served with Marsai, who was excited to hear about the mission. When she heard that Rags was loose, she scowled.
“The Skintaker was one of the heralds we never caught. He is a fool and, while strong, is not all that powerful for a herald. What he does have is an uncanny ability to escape death. It is similar to what the Demon Lords themselves can do. When he is near death, he can shift his form into soul smoke. It should take him years to reform unless he had a contingency plan. A stupid herald is still smart enough to be prepared for defeat. We will need to keep an eye out. I am sure there are only two things on his mind now. Revenge and freeing his master from the binding we placed on him.” She told them after dinner.
Hansa asked, “So what did you all get for fighting a herald? Did that stuck-up prick of a king pay well?”
Wali shrugged. He hadn’t gone digging through his chest. Vinny filled in, “I think so. There were ten bags of coins, new daggers, clothing, and a quiver of the Vampiric Thornwood arrows.” He grinned, “I ain’t counted the coins yet.”
Greta snarked at him, “You just spread them out on your bed and rolled around in them, didn’t you?”
He smiled wide and nodded, “It was awesome.”
They all laughed at that. They enjoyed their time after dinner before retreating to their rooms.
Now clean, rested, and fed, Wali summoned and opened the chest. Inside the chest, Wali found that it was packed tight with loot. Ten pouches of coins, each silk and marked with the different seal of the elven royalty.
The elven Champion’s sword was a fine thing. Lighter than ordinary steel, it was a beautiful and functional blade. The straight blade was double-edged and light. Wali knew the basics of swordsmanship, but the weapon of choice for a Colri was the spear. It was enchanted with sharpness like Vinny’s shortsword and self-maintenance functions. Wali could see the magical mark of the royal house of the elves set inside the pommel.
There were several suits of fine clothing, all elven-made and enchanted. They reshaped to fit him perfectly and could not be cut nor dirtied. The elves were masters of a unique form of silk that could not be cut by blade nor pierced. An arrow could still penetrate the body, but the silk would form around it, allowing the arrow to be extracted by pulling the fabric. These were garments of the royal and the rich of elven society.
At the bottom of the chest was a simple wooden crate, dirty finger marks still on the rough-cut wood. This puzzled Wali as he withdrew the container. The wood was common pine, and he had to pry the crate open. Inside was a wrapping of heavy burlap around waxed cloth. Four lumps lay inside the wrappings, each the size and weight of a coconut.
He unwrapped them, and a spicy smell, like chili powder and pure capsicum, hit him in the face. He pulled away as tears began to stream down his face from his burning eyes. His totems all drew power from him and spiritually manifested into the room. They crowded around Wali. He felt the hunger in them. These gifts were for his totems and not for him.
He encapsulated his head in a bubble of fresh air with a spell and examined the first of the fruits. They looked and felt like tough, partially dried-out grapefruits. The pattern on the flesh was a swirl of red, green, and pink strips. Wali’s room was big, but if Neferu or Gulli manifested fully corporeal inside, they would break things.
He placated his bonded spirits and headed outside, the totems hot on his heels. They were almost incoherent with hunger. He had never felt them this agitated before.
At once, he carefully set the fruits on the ground around him. He let the totems pull the mana from within him through their bond. They all became fully corporeal. They waited, each sending him feelings of hunger. Neferu was a white, gray, and black crocodilian, a total of eight meters long. Gulli was the size of a Volkswagen and Noodle as thick as Yacob’s thigh. Tag was the same as ever, just faster. He told them to eat when they all lined up on or next to a fruit.
Neferu was the fastest. Snapping the fruit down her gullet whole. A glow started deep within her, Gulli too, as his fruit was gone. Noodle disjointed his jaw and swallowed. Tag was not much larger than the fruit and was neck deep into its side.
The glow spread through each totem, and Wali felt the bond strengthen as their powers grew. Neferu grew in size, now a full eleven meters and tall as Wali’s shoulder. Gulli was the size of a minibus now. Noodle was six meters in length and looked able to swallow Wali whole. Tag grew as well, to the size of a Bald Eagle. They all had new features, and their voices became more.
The spines on Neferu were now jagged spikes along her back. Gulli’s shoulders had spread, and tusks now jutted forward like scoops from them. Noodle’s tail had lengthened and gained a powerful barb. Tag earned a second set of wings. Their voices came to him, and words formed. “WE greet you, bondsman.” A chorus of four in his mind.