Two weeks had passed since the encounter with the Etherbeast. Kelek spent the days growing accustomed to the use of the mahogany staff, both for magical and martial practices. Imp kindly offered to spar and teach him how to fight with weapons. The sharpened ruby at its tip made the staff an effective spear. Despite her instruction, Kelek was scarcely ever able to land a blow on her. His relative incompetence did not sour her mood however, each session ended with at least some measure of progress, which was rewarded with beachside suppers attended by the pair and Renzen. Their meals would carry on throughout the night as they exchanged stories and dreams of their future. Renzen in particular was astounded by his own openness, but made no effort to distance himself from the heart-to-heart conversations. The trio of friends continued their routine of training and mingling together for days as they awaited the date of the expedition. During this time, Kelek became familiar with a number of basic to moderate spells that would prove useful in combat. His affinity for temperature control was deadly to foes wearing metal, as a spell he had crafted could effectively boil an opponent in their own armor. He struggled with summoning projectiles from Ether itself, but a clever inversion of his unique telekinetic grabbing spell would allow him to catapult small objects such as rocks at his targets with deadly speed. Kelek used the evenings before bed to revise the wording of his spells and cement their concepts in his mind until he was confident that he could call upon them, unerring, in the heat of battle. Bayin showed a great deal of pride in his progress. His one-on-one training sessions with the wizard revealed that Kelek had difficulty with spells that conjured objects from nothing. Even with the aid of a focus and precisely dictated words, he was incapable of forming a convincing illusion.
The Centurions left unceremoniously the morning after their arrival. The presence of Nashandra unsettled Imp, a topic she did not delve into during their shared dinners. Renzen was intrigued by David’s rich history of work and life experiences that they shared during their long night of drinking. Kelek was wary of Al-Cid. They were both Harnessers, wore flamboyant clothing, and spoke in honeyed words. But Al-Cid carried a sinister air about him, and his weapons were mysterious to Kelek. His unsubtle jibes to Kelek’s upbringing and inexperience added to his distrust. Nonetheless, the days passed uneventfully as the group anticipated Festus’ return, which marked the start of their expedition
Festus arrived on a warm morning, accompanied by an ox-led wagon carrying a large amount of tightly bound and covered objects. The shapes beneath the sackcloth were indeterminable, but it was clear that there were multiple objects of varying sizes. The entirety of the Tynemouth Guild met him in the courtyard as he arrived.
“Sorry it took me so long. Some more peddlers came in hawking shite quality guns on the cheap. The demand for bl-” Bayin hushed Festus before he could continue.
“All is well, Festus. You were successful in obtaining our cargo, that is what matters.” Bayin looked around the small crowd of adventurers. “We shall depart for Tule tomorrow morning. Make sure your equipment is well maintained. We shan't be returning for a week.”
He beat the bottom of his staff into the grass two times to punctuate his command before returning to the interior of the hall. Ladd was stroking the panting ox on its hump while Dmitri strode to greet Festus.
“That what I think it is?” He shrugged a shoulder toward the securely covered goods.
“Might be. Not sure why the old codger needs this anyway though if his magic is half as impressive as the stories claim. But forget the cart, feast yer eyes on this!”
Festus produced a fusil from behind his leather apron. It shared a similar shape to the pistols Dmitri and Al-Cid carried but the barrel was twice as long, and even from a distance the craftsmanship was a clear upgrade from Dmitri’s weapon.
“Had a bit of downtime while waiting for shipments. Nabbed meself the least shitty of the peddler’s stock and made a few adjustments. Still haven’t cracked how to tamper with the firing mechanism effectively, but the long-barrel should make the bullet fly faster, not to mention the intimidation factor. I pull this out, any bandits will think twice ‘bout robbing me with shite in their pants.”
Dmitri rubbed his chin through his bandana and eyed the pistol closely.
“Think you could work the same on my own piece?”
“Aye, if I was back at me workshop and you had a spare thousand gold.”
With an incredulous scoff, Dimitir shook his head and lamented.
“Technology is moving too fast for my taste, much less my coin purse. Damn whoever brought these cursed things into existence.”
“Damn him yourself, I'll be kissing his feet! Working this has been the most fun I’ve had in thirty years! I’d give me left nut to pry his mind for an evening.”
Renault was leaning against the side of the hall, observing the conversation through the slits in his helmet. Ladd moved on from the ox and went to lift the edge of the covers from the wagon and reveal its contents. Festus stopped mid-sentence and shouted over to him.
“Ay! Hands off the payload! Strict orders from the old man, keep it covered no matter what. I don’t care if he’s your granddaddy, last thing I need is some omnipotent wizard having a reason to spite me.”
Ladd shrunk away sheepishly, wordlessly mouthing an apology. Imp leaned up against Renzen, who showed obvious discomfort with the gesture, and said quietly.
“It’s gotta be black powder, right? There has to be enough there to blow in a castle wall. What could possibly be in Tule that needs this much firepower?”
Renzen replied humorlessly.
“Perhaps he intends to violently overthrow the poor shepherds and claim the barren soil for himself, proclaiming to be king of the pastures.”
Imp rolled her eyes at his jests and continued to scrutinize the cart. After finishing his conversation with Dmitri, Festus led the ox behind the hall and sheltered the wagon under a covered stable, leaving the ox to happily graze about the courtyard's lush grass. The group convened inside, where Bayin was scrawling out notes on a map. When he was finished, he presented it to the Guild members.
“We will start out at dawn heading south. If road conditions are agreeable, we should make it to Barkroot by nightfall. We will make camp at its outskirts. The following day should see us to Tule in the same timeframe.”
Bayin traced the paths they would take along the map as he talked. It was far more detailed than any Kelek had seen in the past. The roads bent and twisted realistically, and accurate distances were shown between towns. Barkroot sat at a crossroads. Tynemouth was north, equidistant from Tule in the south. To the west was Ardor, the largest city, and twice the distance from Barkroot as the smaller towns. Barkroot and Tynemouth were fortunate to lie on the road between Ardor and Vencollis. They were welcomed rest stops along the oft-traveled trading path, and were prosperous for it. Tule did not share that fortune. It was an even humbler village than Barkroot, and travelers had little reason to make the day's journey there. Despite being coastal, like Tynemouth, the beaches were gloomy. The soil was infertile, and only the hardiest weeds grew. The town’s residents were few, and were only able to farm enough to sustain their small families.
“Greith’s Fist has been quite active in the surrounding forests. The cargo that Festus brought from Ardor is invaluable, and I cannot risk its destruction. For that reason, I want us to be split into two groups. The first will scout about an hour's pace ahead, and clear the road of any hazards. If any bandits should mark us prey, the scouting party should dispatch them long before the party escorting the cart arrives. Imperisha, I want you, Renzen, Kelek, and Ladd to be that scouting party. Festus, Renault, Dmitri, and myself will see to the wagon and trail behind you.”
Imp performed an exaggerated salute in response. Bayin grinned and nodded, satisfied with the plan before adjourning the group. Kelek had conflicted feelings about returning to Barkroot. It was the longests he had ever been away from his parents. Despite Bayin’s delicious meals, he longed to taste his mother’s home cooking again, and he hoped his father had calmed. He was also excited to show how much he had grown with magic in the few weeks he was absent. He was sure that his father would be proud of how well he could control his power, proud enough to look past his fear of the Ether. Thoughts of astounding his old neighbors with feats of magic played in his head as he rested that night.
Morning came with a beam of sunlight to Kelek’s face. He had grown accustomed to using the errant sunray as an alarm, opting to leave the windows purposely uncovered. He made both his and Renzen’s beds before joining his companions in the courtyard, ready to set out and see what the journey had in store for him. His enthusiasm quickly dwindled, as hours of arduous trekking ate away at his resolve. He was thankful to have Imp and Renzen at his side, and looked forward to learning more about Ladd. It was clear that the young Aursol was as physically lacking as Kelek. Both of them would hold out as long as possible, not wanting to be the one that requested a break from their march. During their journey along the road, Ladd revealed that he had actually joined the Guild against his grandfather’s wishes.
“I hadn’t visited him in years, but then my mother told me that he was going to be the Guildmaster right there in Tynemouth. I’ve always wanted to be a royal guard for King Barthael, and I figured joining the Brandt Guild would be a perfect opportunity to train for it. Grandpa wasn’t happy when I showed up on the first day next to Imp. Said it was too dangerous, but didn’t push back after I insisted.” Turning to face Imp, he continued. “Speaking of which, I was surprised that you were there on opening day. I know you’re not local to Tynemouth, what made you jump in so quickly? Renault and Dmitri have been long time members and just stopped by this hall a few weeks ago from another job, but you and me were the only ones that joined up here before Renzen and Kelek showed up.”
Imp was oiling the sides of her halberd while walking. She eyed her handiwork carefully before replying.
“I’m from Vencollis. I don’t care to be a fisher or merchant that’d just be a waste of my talents. To be honest, I planned on making the trip to Ardor to join up there a few months ago, but my friend in Tynemouth told me that a new hall was being built there, so I figured it would be best to join up closer to home.”
“Do you plan to visit your family often? It’s pretty convenient we’re going through Barkroot so I can see mine. I want to make a habit of visiting at least once a month.” Kelek added. Imp bit her lip and cast her gaze downward for a few moments, debating whether or not to reply. Finally she spoke.
“No… My parents are dead, and I have no siblings.”
“Oh no- I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Kelek replied hastily
“”What happened to them?” Renzen added with little compassion.
“They were tricked by a fiendling. My father was behind on housing costs and taxes due to a poor fishing season, and some cursed fiendling banker offered to loan him the gold to make up for it. He signed a contract, not realizing that one year later the fiendling would be back to collect him and my mother, and ferry them to Hell. They tried to fight it, of course, but those damned demons and their infernal magic is impossible to break if you willingly agree to their terms… That Nashandra woman is the first fiendling I’ve seen since the bastard that stole my parents, so I’m sure you can understand why I distrust her so.”
Renzen only nodded in response. The group continued forward with a more somber aura. As the light dwindled, Ladd grew uneasy. He jumped at the sudden breaking of branches on the roadside, fearing that a fleeing deer might be an ambushing cutthroat. Kelek used the opportunity to practice a new spell he had concocted. His affinity for healing extended beyond the physical, and allowed him to ease the anxieties of the mind. Touching the side of the sharpened ruby against Ladd’s forehead and speaking ‘Calm’ Kelek unleashed a soothing tide of magical energy that deadened Ladd’s fright.
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“You’re lucky to be so gifted with magic like that. Grandpa would always tell me about how rare it is for magic users, even Harnessers, to fully grasp their talents. As an Aursol, we’re supposedly more sensitive to Ether and likely to be Harnessers, but even with Grandpa’s instruction, I’ve never been able to cast anything.”
“Bayin mentioned that, but I found it pretty strange. You’re saying that anybody can use magic, not just Harnessers?”
Ladd nodded. “Magic doesn’t come from people after all, it comes from Ether, and that’s everywhere. Harnessers are just naturally real good at using it for whatever reason. Grandpa said that the world’s top scholars are trying to figure out what exactly makes someone a Harnesser. Only thing they figured out so far is that Aursols tend to have the gift more often than others.”
“Did he ever talk to you about some old race of people called the Ymir?”
Ladd threw his head back and laughed, accidentally knocking his skull against the pommel of his claymore in the process.
“Talk about them? That’s all the old coot cares about. He’s spent years independently studying them. He is convinced that we Aursols are the long lost descendants of this supposed race. Frankly I couldn’t care less where we came from. I’m human enough, and the past doesn’t have any impact on my life now so why worry about it, you know?”
The edge of Barkroot came into view as the group crested a small foothill. The group with the cart could be spotted in the far distance, casting far-stretched silhouettes in the fading horizon. Confident they would be secure, Kelek excused himself to visit his parents. The town seemed to be untouched after his exodus less than a month ago. He walked through the trodden dirt paths that traced back to his childhood home. He felt a wave of welcoming nostalgia wash over him and he reached his front door. Gripping the mahogany staff tightly in his left hand, he knocked. He could hear the uneven floorboards creak loudly from inside as the house’s denizens stirred. The small window curtain slid to the side, revealing a small woman, whose face exploded in joy at the sight of Kelek. The door flew open, and Gloria jumped into Kelek’s arms giving him a tight embrace.
“Oh Kelek, you’ve returned! I’ve missed you so much! Thank tHespora you’ve put this foolishness behind you!” She shouted into the purple threads of his tunic, wiping her face back and forth over her son’s chest. Boris stood, arms folded, in the doorway behind her.
“That right boy? You finally give up this fool’s errand and come to your senses?”
Kelek blushed and bit his lip, easing his mother off of him. Clearing his throat and readjusting his shirt, he said.
“Actually I just wanted to come visit and let you know how things are going. The Guild has been amazing, and I’ve made great friends already, one of them is an elf! The Guildmaster is a renowned wizard, and has agreed to teach me how to use magic. I’ve already made a ton of progress!”
Boris pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, boy, but please don’t come here spinning those yarns. We’re too old for your stories.”
“No, it’s true, look!”
Kelek lifted the staff slightly and wordlessly cast a spell to make the ruby glow a bright red. He knew Bayin would admonish his careless use of magic without a spoken spell, but he wanted to impress his parents and keep an air of mystery surrounding his abilities. Gloria’s mouth hung open, mesmerized by the incandescent shine of the ruby. Boris frowned and locked eyes with Kelek.
“I told you not to bring that devilry around here. I’ll give you ten seconds to get that out of my sight.”
Fury bridled in his voice. Kelek thought quickly, and angled the staff downward slightly.
“I understand, father, but I think we should all just remain… calm…”
At his word, a bolt of energy sped from the ruby to Boris’ head. The movement was too quick for Gloria to notice, but she turned to look at her husband as he took in a sharp breath. The hard squint in his face faded instantly, and he looked at his son with all the tearful joy of a man that had been reunited with his long lost love.
“Oh my boy, I’m sorry I’ve been such a stubborn ass. Come here!”
Gloria was visibly confused by the sudden inversion of emotions, but her happiness at their reconciliation overrode the thought. The three of them hugged each other tightly. Boris looked down at Kelek with tearful pride.
“Tell me son, how have the past weeks treated you?”
Kelek’s own eyes began to well. It was the first time his father had shown such naked pride and affection, and even though it was brought about through surreptitious means, he was nonetheless comforted by the sentiment. He recounted the remarkable events that transpired since his journey from Barkroot; his meeting with the elf, Renzen, his tutelage under Bayin the Wise, his ever growing repertoire of magic, and a lavishly embellished accounting of the encounter with the Etherbeast octopus. Boris and Gloria were both enraptured by his fables, and hung on his every word. After his tales were finished, Kelek demonstrated his magical aptitude by repairing various cracks in the wooden floorboards, and mending rips in the hanging curtains.
“Hespora bless us, a bonafide wizard grown in Barkroot…” Gloria muttered under her breath.
“I was a fool to hide and shame the practice of magic.” Stated Boris with a surprising tone of seriousness. “It is clear that there is more good to be had from it than danger. This knowledge should be shared with the others. If we close our hearts to change, we will eventually be doomed to the same fate as Tule.”
Standing, Boris gripped Kelek and Gloria by the wrists and led them outside. Villagers were finishing their chores for the evening, and turned to behold Boris who called out.
“Everyone, my boy has returned, and he is a miraculous sorcerer! Come out, don’t be afraid, let him show you his miracles!”
Kelek was embarrassed by his father’s boasting, but part of him was thrilled to finally show his peers what he was capable of. One by one, small families gathered around. Most were work weary from a long day of toiling, but respected Boris’ enheartened summons. Before long a crowd of Barkroot villagers had encircled Kelek. At the far perimeter of the gathering, he could spy Imp, Renzen, and Ladd observing the commotion. Kelek took the opportunity to flourish his staff and shoot beams of multicolored lights into the air. In a feat of impressive mastery, Kelek launched the staff into the air using his flinging spell and summoned it back to his hands using similar miniscule explosions. He repeated the process multiple times in various directions. Many of the adults in the crowd gasped and looked toward Boris. His gleeful smile and clapping eased their concerns, and they joined in the cheering. The children of the village had no reservations, and sprinted to the inner edges of the circle to get a better look. Kelek grinned widely and drove the tip of the ruby staff into the soil beneath and shouted
“Bloom!”
The spell took an unexpected toll, and his mouth filled with a coppery taste as his vision faltered for a moment. After his exertion, the ground around him exploded into a lush field of beautiful wildflowers. Twisting vines sprouted from the ground and ended in giant pitcher plants that let off a smell of honey. Several roses in unnatural colors of blue, white, black, and gold bloomed at his feet. Behind him, framed by the pitcher plants, a massive ivory orchid delicately bent into the shape of a throne. The entirety of the spell was completed over the course of twenty seconds, and when it was finished, the crowd erupted into a deafening cheer. The previous fear of magic the village harbored had been erased by the fantastical feat performed by one of their own. Children jumped up and took turns sitting in the orchid throne that was surprisingly sturdy. The villagers joined in hoisting Kelek into the air and paraded him around with pride. From his place atop their shoulders, Kelek spotted Ladd and Imp clapping and smiling happily, with a much less amused Renzen trailing them.
The villagers slowly returned to their homes to retire for the night. Imp, Renzen, and Ladd setup camp a mile north of the village, ready to receive the other half of the expedition party, while Kelek decided to spend the night at his family’s home. As he made his way to their hospitable abode, he was stopped by a small girl. She had long brown hair and wore a plain white nightgown. Kelek figured she couldn’t be older than twelve. She toyed with her fingers nervously, working up the courage to speak to him.
“Excuse me, Borison. I-I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Penelope. My dad is good friends with yours, but we’ve never really talked much before.”
Kelek wracked his brain attempting to remember the girl. He vaguely recalled a time in his youth when he would join his parents at another villager’s house for weekly shared dinners, and a time when those dinners had to be paused for a month after the birth of their child.
“Yes, I remember, Penelope Tobinsdaughter right?”
The girl smiled and nodded several times in affirmation.
“That’s right. My father has always been very hateful of magic, like yours. I couldn’t believe that Boris would change his mind like that so suddenly. Do you think my father could as well?”
Kelek bit the inside of his cheek in contemplation.
“I’ll be honest, Tobin is the only other person in the village I know of that hates the practice as much as my father did. But don’t worry, I’ll only be here for the night. He’ll forget about it soon. Sorry for stirring up any ire.”
Penelope clasped her hands behind her back and shook her head.
“I’m not so sure. I wanted to ask because… well…”
She inched toward him and put forth one of her hands. Her concentration was clear on her face as a small mote of fire sprung into life in her palm. Kelek’s jaw dropped in awe.
Barkroot has another Harnesser! Kelek thought to himself in amazement.
Penelope closed her fist, extinguishing the flame.
“This is magic right? Like what you were using earlier? I really like it, but there is no way I could let my father know. Can you teach me how to use it like you can?”
Kelek was overjoyed at the thought of having his own apprentice. He hastily agreed and immediately inundated the girl with the knowledge and tricks he had picked up over the past few weeks. Penelope tried her best to make sense of the deluge of words that spilled forth, but was quickly overwhelmed. Chastising himself for moving too quickly, Kelek halted his pace.
“Sorry about that, I understand it’s a lot to take in. I’m in the middle of a mission for the Guild right now, but next week I can stop by and give you a less rushed lesson. Does that sound good?” Penelope nodded with wide eyes. “Good. Until then just work on doing small stuff. If you say a word for a spell, it will be easier to make it do what you want. And everyone has certain kinds of magic they’re good at, so don’t feel bad if you can do some things but not others. You’re going to love it, Penelope! Magic is wonderful, and we can show the village that it isn’t something that should be shunned.”
Kelek slept that night with a sense of acceptance. Even if his father’s change of heart was brought about by magic trickery, he was happy that he could show the villagers that not all magic was evil. Morning broke, and Boris remained in good cheer. Kelek ate a delectable home cooked breakfast with his parents before returning to his Guild companions. Imp whispered to him on arrival.
“Don’t worry, I covered for you. Just let Bayin know that you had a heartfelt reunion with your dad, nothing more. Made sure Ladd didn’t spill the beans on your little magic show.”
He gave her a friendly pat on the back and thanked her for her guile. He was worried that the orchid throne would give Bayin pause, but figured he could pass it off as a local art piece for a festival. After cleaning up the camp, the party of four left the cart escorts and made their way toward Tule. The roads were rough, uneven, and overgrown, slowly their pace greatly compared to the prior day’s travel. The road eventually wound through a narrow canyon pass, barely able to fit the four of them shoulder to shoulder as it cut through the eastern edge of the Berestra Mountains. They worried the cart would have difficulty getting through the pass if the ox grew claustrophobic.Their fears were turned moot when they rounded a corner to face a rockslide that completely impeded the path. On either side of them was a sheer cliff face that rose twenty feet.
“Well shit, now what do we do?” Renzen said.
“Guess we can double back and meet the wagon, let them know this path won’t work. Probably gonna have to go the long way through the mountains… and it’s getting dark…” Ladd replied.
Dejected, the party about-faced and trudged toward the approaching caravan.
The moon was high in the sky above Barkroot. Penelope ran her fingers across the delicate petals of the multicolored roses that bloomed beneath the orchid throne in the center of the town. She was awed by the fantastical power of Kelek’s magic, and wished dearly to call a power like that her own. She searched her disjointed memory for the words Kelek told her concerning magic, how it was possible to speak a spell into existence, and how thoughts guided the magic, and if it could really be that easy. She ran back to home and closed herself in her bedroom, rubbing her temples and trying to make sense of his instructions. After a while, she decided to conjure a flame in her hands, as she had done several times in the past. This time, however, she orated.
“Fire.”
The flame burst into life between her hands, flickering and dancing wildly. She focused her thoughts like Kelek instructed her, clearing her mind of everything, save for one concept. Fire.
She smiled as the flame reflected in her eyes, proud of how distinct and powerful it was in contrast to her previous flames. She giggled to herself as the burning flame grew larger and hotter in response to her repeated conscious command. Fire. Fire. Fire.