The sun had nearly set when they reached the rolling plains of Astamarr, domain and home of House Greyfield.
The plant life, which had been green when Venza left, were tinted orange by the rays of the setting sun. Gone were the farmers who'd been tilling their fields in the morning, off to enjoy the evening with their families, or so Venza imagined. The town of Verdeholm, center of Astamarr, stood on a short hill, surrounded by old, but well-maintained stone walls.
Their lands might have been far from the Empire's capital of Gran Oden, might have been populated largely by humble farmers, but Venza liked her home and loved its people. Besides, it noticeably lacked a swarm of monster birds that couldn't be hurt by mundane weapons.
Venza watched Aiela, who was looking outside the window of their carriage with an unreadable expression. What did Oma Mala's granddaughter think of her home? Their home now, Venza supposed.
She turned her attention instead to Vosmer and Lucius, who'd been speaking in hushed tones since the afternoon's skirmish. Unfortunately for them, Venza's skill at listening in on conversations not meant for her had improved over years of being left out.
"Have to send more soldiers," Lucius muttered.
"You'll need to send a mage corps," Vosmer answered, a bit less quietly than her father. Vosmer was likely aware she was listening in, anyway. "Conventional troops would take too many casualties."
Lucius let out a frustrated sigh. "I know. They'll need the support. At least I can authorize it."
"Assuming Brandelis doesn't get in your way," Vosmer pointed out.
Venza was admittedly bad at names, though she knew that one at least: Brandelis Silverlake, head of the Emperor's personal guard and her father's long-time rival. It wasn't hard to remember, considering how much-
"Damn uptight bureaucrat buffoon," Lucius spat, no longer keeping his voice down.
Considering how much her father did that. Brandelis and his House were to be respected, Venza knew, for all they did for the Empire, but she reckoned if they ever met they'd be like oil and water.
A sudden stirring on the opposite seat drew their collective attention.
"Where am I?" William asked, his voice dry and hoarse.
Venza couldn't help but smile. He was alright!
"You're in our carriage," Lucius said.
Recognizing his Lord's voice, William Carver suddenly sat up straight, his hand flying to his chest to salute. Or at least, it tried to. William's right arm twitched, but did not rise, hanging almost limp at his side.
Venza's stomach sank.
No. That couldn't be.
"I-" William stared down at his arm. "I'm sorry, my Lord. I can't seem to-"
Lucius and Vosmer gave each other a serious look before turning back to him.
"Easy, man," Lucius said softly. "We'll have a healer see to you back home."
"Y-yes," William answered, visibly shaken. His left hand came up and he slowly, visibly flexed and curled his fingers, seemingly testing if that arm had been disabled as well. "Thank you, my lord. You're most generous."
But Aiela's words rang in Venza's head: He needed to be healed quickly, while the damage was fresh. She had no idea what 'quickly' meant exactly, but from the pensive look on Aiela's face, Venza could tell their pace was not quick enough.
"Thank you, Sergeant Carver," Venza said. "If you hadn't been there, I-"
"You're welcome, young miss," he said, his voice cracking. "All in a day's work."
William Carver smiled when he said that, but his eyes-
His eyes looked on the verge of tears.
None of them spoke after that.
Before they reached the house, they stopped by the Temple of the Four. Like many other towns, the Temple of the Four served as the only healer's facility in Verdeholm. Venza heard that larger cities had dedicated houses of healing, but in a relatively small township, this was all they had.
"I'll stay with him," Vosmer said. "And I'll send for his family."
"I'll go with you," Aiela said. It wasn't a suggestion. "I might be able to help."
"I hope it goes well," Venza said, her voice full of worry.
"Thank you, young miss," William said.
The three of them disembarked from the carriage, leaving only Venza and her father.
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The brick walls of Greyfield Manor loomed into view as the carriage approached, the house red as a strawberry in the dimming sun. An iron-wrought fence surrounded it on all sides, protecting its well-kept gardens.
Venza had once pointed out such flimsy defenses wouldn't hold back an invading army or even a revolt. Her father had responded if they put up real walls, the gardens would go to waste. That, and if anyone attacked his home, he'd send them packing himself.
His answer had satisfied her. If Lucius Greyfield, Shield of the Empire, said the fence was good enough, then it was good enough.
The gate swung open to let them in, the carriage jostling a bit on the cobblestone road. As the carriage came to a halt, the door opened with a click, and Venza could finally take her first step back on home soil.
Seeing the soldiers of House Greyfield stationed on each side of the door brought Venza’s thoughts to the man who’d saved her. William had been in the Grey Guard for years. It was hard to imagine he could continue on without the use of his right arm.
Venza pushed the thoughts from her mind and put on a brave face.
She heard her father sigh next to her. "It wasn’t your fault," he said.
"How wasn't it?" she asked, her hands tightening to fists. "He was in danger because of me. I had at least two chances to prevent this. I could've kept my mouth shut. I could've run back to the carriage instead of watching."
Lucius pursed his lips.
"And why haven't you said anything?" she asked. "We got away from one Bloodbeak, barely scratched, and you were furious. Now one of your men is hurt because of me and you say nothing?"
"It was not your fault," Lucius repeated. "Vosmer gave the order based on your suggestion. They would not have charged into battle at the suggestion of a nine-year-old girl, even if she is my daughter. This is on me and Vosmer, not you. Now, come. Let's go. It's clear you want to be there, even if it's just to show support."
She wanted to protest, but the words died in her throat. Instead she nodded, and said, "Thank you, Father."
This too, was part of her duty.
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The Temple loomed before her. Large double doors stood closed due to the lateness of the hour, but a smaller door to be used by staff was built into one of the larger doors. Lucius pulled the lever on the smaller door’s knob and it swung outwards, granting them entry.
He quickly got them inside, using his status as lord of Verdeholm to get in with little fuss. They passed the chapel portion of the Temple and headed into the medical ward. She'd never been inside before since whenever she took ill, her father would send for a healer to come to the house instead.
The ward was a long room filled with two rows of beds spaced some distance from each other. Most of them were unoccupied, though a few had sleeping patients.
She quickly found an irritated Aiela arguing with a female healer in white robes.
"I'm telling you," Aiela said sharply. "You need to cast Regrowth on his nape."
"That wound has been closed," the healer answered. "It has nothing to do with not being able to feel his arm."
Aiela let out a frustrated sigh. "There are nerves there connecting his brain to the rest of his body! That's the likely reason why he can't move his arm."
"I have no idea where you've gotten this idea," the healer said, sounding equally exasperated. "His paralysis is obviously a lasting consequence of the creature's shriek."
"That was a simple Frighten spell," Aiela said. "It only worked that well because William has no magic resistance whatsoever. Besides, that spell lasts a few minutes at most!"
"Lieutenant," the healer said, looking at Vosmer. "Could you please take this child away? I am busy tending to Sergeant Carver."
"Apologies, Healer Jones, but could you at least try what she's suggesting?" Vosmer asked, though he looked like a nervous deer caught between two predators. It struck Venza as kind of funny his years of military service didn't seem to prepare him for standing in the middle of these two's argument.
"You can't be serious, Lieutenant," she said. "I cannot perform random spells on a patient. If something were to go wrong, I would lose my healer's license."
"I suppose that is true, but-" Vosmer scratched his chin. "This girl is a knowledgeable mage in her own right."
Despite his words, Venza could hear his confidence falter, and she couldn't blame him. They'd known Aiela for less than a day, and while she'd shown herself to know a lot about magic, it was hard to tell someone to risk their career based on a first impression.
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"Do you think I could use my arm again?" William, who'd been lying on a bed suddenly asked.
"Possibly," Aiela answered. "I won't lie to you. There is no guarantee at recovery. A full recovery is nigh impossible, but this could let you feel sensation in your arm again."
"Can I agree to it?" William asked, directing his question at the healer. "I won't say anything if something goes wrong."
"I suppose?" the healer responded, sounding flustered. "But I don't know why you would. The lingering effects of the spell should vanish after a few days."
William stared at the ceiling, letting out a sigh. "It feels different. When the bird got me it felt like my body wouldn't move because I was too scared to. The way my arm won't move now isn't the same."
"Madness," the healer muttered. "You'd take the word of a little girl over that of a seasoned healer?"
"If she hadn't cast Regrowth on him, he'd be worse off," Venza suddenly spoke. The room suddenly turned to her. They'd clearly been so caught up in their argument they hadn't seen her or her father come in.
"Another little girl?" the healer snapped. "Who is it this-" she suddenly stopped, seeing Lucius' imposing figure behind Venza. "Lord Greyfield, my apologies, sir. What are you doing here?"
He waved her apology off. "I thought I'd check up on William with my daughter," he answered calmly but pointedly. "We won't be here long."
He glanced down at William, who looked like he was trying to salute again, but his arm would not move.
"Will you cast the spell like she asks?" Lucius asked.
"Not you, too, my Lord," Healer Jones answered. "Fine. Fine! If Sergeant Carver will sign a document releasing me from any responsibility with regard to the unconventional treatment, I'll do it." She turned to William. "Is that alright with you?"
William nodded. "I'll sign. I can't work with my arm like this."
A few minutes later, Venza, Vosmer, Lucius, and Aiela watched anxiously as Jones placed her hands on William's neck. He was lying on his front with his head slightly off the edge of the bed.
"Great Mother," the Healer intoned. "Harken to your servant's plea. Allow life to return where it should be. Regrowth!"
A green light flowed from the Healer's hand, bathing William's neck in a soft glow. The beam held for several seconds before fading.
"Is- Is that it?" William asked. "I don't feel different."
"That's it," the Healer answered, somehow sounding smug at his surprise, as if she'd told him it wouldn't work.
"Regrowth is a regeneration spell," Aiela explained. "It will help your body restore things to their natural state, but it takes time. I suggest you get some rest to help with the healing process."
"That is my line, little girl," Healer Jones said. "But yes, you need rest. I recommend you stay here overnight at the very least. We'll see if your condition improves tomorrow."
"Can I see my family?" he asked.
"Of course. I'll send for them," Jones said. "As for your other visitors-"
"We'll be leaving," Lucius said, taking the hint. "Rest up, Carver. We'll see you tomorrow."
"Thank you, Lord Greyfield. Lieutenant. Girls."
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The four of them rode back to the manor in the carriage.
"Do you think he'll make a full recovery?" Venza asked.
"No," Aiela said flatly, a pensive look on her face.
Venza's smile faltered. "Why not?"
"Bodies are… tricky," Aiela said slowly. "Countless things have to be working right for them to function properly."
"You know a lot about this, too," Lucius pointed out. "Seemingly more than the Healer did, I might add."
"Indeed," Vosmer added. "How did you come by such knowledge?"
To their surprise, Aiela just laughed. "I wish I knew. For some reason I know a lot about a lot of things. The idea I was born with this knowledge is absurd, but I have no other way to describe it. I even know some spells no one else does, not that I have the power to cast them yet."
"Curious," Lucius said. "If I didn't know better- No, that's impossible."
"What is it, father?" Venza asked.
"You know about the Queendom of Lilium to the Northeast?" her father asked.
Venza nodded. "Isn't that the country ruled by a royal family of mages?"
"The very same," Lucius said. "I'm glad you're keeping up with your studies."
Despite the dourness of the situation, Venza found a shadow a of a smile appear on her lips.
"What does this have to do with our new friend?" Vosmer asked.
"Well, magic doesn't always get passed, right?" Lucius said. "Sometimes twins are born and one sibling has magic but not the other."
"It's random, yes," Aiela confirmed. "Up to that degree."
"But the Royal Family of Lilium is comprised entirely of mages," Lucius said. "Every single one, and if you believe the rumors, most of them know spells before they can even read."
"Interesting," Venza said. "Maybe you're a distant relative?"
She was half-joking, but was surprised to see Aiela looking contemplative. "No, your father is right. I don't think that's possible."
Despite this, Aiela spent the rest of the trip in quiet contemplation.
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As they arrived, Venza quickly took Aiela's hand, proclaiming she'd show her around.
"Hold on there, Scamp," Lucius spoke before she could pull Aiela into the house. "I think your mother needs to speak with us first. We've already delayed enough."
Venza felt her face pouting, and then realized that was no way for the heir of House Greyfield to act. She schooled her features and said, "Very well, Father."
“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll be in right after you. Just need to have a word with the carriage driver.”
The dark, wooden double doors welcomed them into the entrance hall of Greyfield manor. It was somewhat sparsely decorated compared to the few other residences of noble houses Venza had visited, but it was still the most beautiful house in Astamarr.
A dark green carpet covered most of the floor like a well-kept lawn. The hall opened up to the left and right, leading to two different wings of the manor. On the far side, a wide staircase of polished marble paved the way up to a second floor, where most of the bedrooms were.
Unlike the outside, the walls here were made of a polished, dark wood. Portraits of past family members covered the walls, placed after each member had passed on.
"So, what do you think?" Venza asked, pointing the question at Aiela.
"It is..." Aiela trailed off. "Large."
Venza brightened at hearing someone else appreciate her home, but her enthusiasm deflated when she realized Aiela was frowning. "What's wrong?"
"Does it not bother you that those poor fools in Rantori, a frontier settlement, have to deal with flimsy walls and little huts but your house looks like this?"
Venza's expression fell. She hadn't thought about that. "Well, Father's sending a mage corps there. Maybe they can work some magic on it. Pun intended."
"Perhaps."
The sound of a door opening on the second floor halted any further conversation. There was silence, then a sharp clacking of wooden heels upon stone, as if announcing the presence of someone important. The Lady Greyfield stood at the top of the staircase, radiant in a dress as deeply blue as the sea, her raven hair tied neatly in a braid. A spellcaster's focusing amulet hung from around her neck, its center a sapphire larger than a chicken's egg.
She looked down, curious eyes set upon Aiela, and then spoke in a voice so calm and commanding, you would never have been able to tell she was ill, "I see you've brought a guest, dear."
Venza swallowed. Nora Greyfield always had a way of unnerving both her and Father. "I did, Mother. This is Aiela Durrell."
Granddaughter of Oma Mala, she thought, but of course, couldn't say.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Aiela answered, curtsying, perfectly polite. She seemed uncowed by Nora's presence, though she had proved surprisingly adept at talking to people in the short time Venza had known her. Did she really just not care enough to associate with children in Rentley?
It felt like she could have talked her way out of conflict, had she wished.
"And what brings you to our humble abode, Miss Durrell?" Nora asked.
"Your carriage," Aiela answered, tone completely flat.
Nora smirked. "I like this one," she said, mostly to Venza, who couldn't be sure if Aiela had answered seriously or not.
"Oh, good," Venza said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I was going to ask if you were alright with her staying here."
Nora's lips formed a thin, flat line. "And why is that?"
"Go on," Venza said. "Show her."
Aiela gave her a blank, defiant look as if to say she did not cast on command, but seemed to think better of it. She pulled a stone out of her pocket and it floated five inches into the air above her open palm.
"I can see them, you know," Nora spoke, unimpressed. "Your Hidden servants, trailing in your wake like a parade of hangers-on."
"I would have been disappointed if you couldn't," Aiela answered. “They’re pretty useful for handling mundane tasks.”
"I suppose I should commend such a young girl for commanding so many, but these are hardl-"
She was interrupted by the double doors opening again as Lucius strode in. "Honey, I'm ho-"
He took one look at his wife's unamused expression, the floating rock above Aiela's hand, and the palpable tension in the room, then promptly shut up, letting them go about their business.
"Welcome home, dear," Nora said, almost as a side remark before turning back to Aiela. "Now, what can you-"
It was rare for Nora Greyfield to be interrupted. You didn't become one of the most powerful mages in Odolenia and let yourself be talked over by others, but she was speechless as Aiela conjured a ball of crackling energy within her other hand.
Venza didn't get what the big deal was. Sure, she couldn't cast spells at her age, but she'd never really had a knack for-
"Wordless casting," Nora said, ironically having recovered her ability to speak. "How old are you?"
"Nine," Aiela answered.
Venza's eyes widened. How had she not noticed? Neither Aiela nor Oma Mala had spoken a single incantation the entire day! She could understand the Grand Hag being able to use magic without speech, but Aiela was- Aiela was her age. At most, she'd said the spell's name. Even the Healer couldn't do that.
Suddenly, Venza realized something else, and blurted out, "Aiela, where is your amulet?"
Aiela's face remained impassive. "I've never used one."
"Wordless, unassisted magic at the age of nine?" Nora spoke, shaking her head. "A curious friend my daughter has brought home."
"Can she stay, then?" Venza asked.
"Just because she can run circles around you in magic?" her mother drawled. "Hardly a reason to take in a child, but I'm listening. She can join us for supper, at the very least." Nora turned to her husband, who'd been keeping quiet since that first time, and said, "Honey, ask Adam if he wants to join us for dinner, will you? Since we're having company, anyway."
"'Course. Bet he'd love to."