“Can all Drunaeda do magic? Or is it the same for them as other people, where it’s only one in a hundred or so?”
A bit of pride conflicting with the bittersweet look in his eyes, the old man raised his bald head by a few degrees. “As a matter of fact, they can. Each tribe or clan has its own specific attributes and abilities, just as with people that aren’t Drunaeda. For us, however, we can only have up to two attributes, and even this is rare. You, my boy, would be an anomaly to most of my people.”
Alistar blew on a spoonful of stew and then took a delicious bite. “It’s nothing special,” he said modestly. “I’ve read that there are plenty of people that have four or five attributes, so having three isn’t too impressive.”
Laughing, Mr. Herst gave him an affectionate smile. “Even among the noble houses, three attributes is a big deal, Alistar. I doubt that anyone else in all of Distan has more than two.” Growing a bit more serious, he added, “Which is why you shouldn’t advertise your abilities. Remember, lad, the greatest advantage you can have in life is to be underestimated. You never know when a hidden ability could mean the difference between life and death, and I daresay that such advice will come in handy when we consider your future intentions.”
“I…how did you know?”
“It’s clear to me that you miss young Kaila very dearly. Knowing what kind of person you are, I can’t imagine that you’ll simply ignore her situation for the rest of your days.”
Mr. Herst was far more aware than Alistar had given him credit for. He hadn’t told anyone aside from a few of his friends that he planned to rescue Kaila within the next three years. He had told the old man all about his training in both magics and the way of the sword, which evidently had been enough for him to come to an accurate conclusion.
“If you were me, could you?”
Mr. Herst gave a sad shake of his head, but then told Alistar to focus on his dinner lest it get cold. The two enjoyed the simple yet tasty meal, talking about interesting facts that either of them had read in the most recent books that they’d picked up. For the next hour or so, they discussed different areas within the Holy Lucian Empire, including Providence Region, which was the province where both the emperor and the pope resided. What Alistar found most interesting about this part of the empire was that it was known as The Land of One Hundred Counties, where the highest ranking nobles were limited to counts, all of whom jointly ruled their counties with a bishop, archbishop, or cardinal of the church.
“Have you ever been there?” asked Alistar, pushing his empty bowl away.
Mr. Herst stood up and brought both of their bowls back to the large pot, refilling them and then returning to place them on the tabletop.
“I can happily say that I have not. You should know that if I were to step foot in any one of those counties, I’d be killed or jailed quite quickly.”
“Is there truly no kingdom where Drunaeda can live freely?”
“There is one. It happens to be a topic of interest for you, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You don’t mean the Kingdom of Alta, do you?”
Alistar had spent many hours scouring Caedmon’s library for information on the obscure yet large territory, which was hardly mentioned in any of the logs that described kingdoms and their cultures. The Regions of Mais and Its Noble Inhabitants for instance, didn’t even make mention of the royal family of said kingdom, while for other kingdoms it listed even the lower nobles such as baronets.
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“Its true name is the Free Kingdom of Alta, but not many records in the empire will describe it as such. From what I hear, all peoples of all backgrounds can live there without worry, so long as they’re not criminals.”
“Do many Drunaeda live there?” That would certainly explain the conspicuous absence of information on the relatively large kingdom, which was bigger than most.
“Yes, plenty of us do. Much of my people fled there after the Inverted Wars, though I wasn’t fortunate enough to make the journey.”
“That… You were alive during the Inverted Wars?”
The old man seemed to find his wide-eyed look entertaining, his gaze taking on a momentary, unreadable glint. “No, dear boy, I wasn’t. Even for the longest lived Drunaeda, 500 years is a terribly long time. My grandmother survived the conflict, however, giving birth to my mother in a remote region of this empire, where she lived a very difficult life. By the time I decided to move here to Distan, everyone else in my family had long since perished to either poverty or prejudice, or both.”
Although their ages were on opposite sides of the spectrum, Alistar could sympathize with the man in that both of them had clearly lived difficult lives in their younger days relative to their ages. Still, something about the way that the man spoke left Alistar wondering after the truth of the matter.
“You’ve told me that there are many different tribes of Drunaeda. Which tribe did you belong to?”
Taking a quiet sip of milk, Mr. Herst stared into his cup for a few moments with forlorn eyes. “It was hardly a tribe by the time that I came into this world. I don’t even know if there are any others like me left.”
“But that doesn’t take away the history, right? History is forever.”
“That it is, dear boy. That it is.” Mr. Herst gathered up their dishes and brought them outside to where he kept a bag of sand, which he used to rub the wooden utensils down in order to clean them.
When Alistar came out to help, he noticed the bloodied corpse of a headless chicken laying just a few paces away from the entrance to the modest cabin. Following his gaze, Mr. Herst shook his head with a disapproving frown. “It’s because of the common misconception that my peoples eat raw meat.” Putting down the dishes partway through their washing, he strode over to the chicken’s corpse and picked it up after a short inspection. “Little do they know, they’ve just gifted me with tomorrow’s dinner.”
Not many people would casually waste a whole chicken, which told Alistar that whoever had thrown the dead creature near Mr. Herst’s door had been somebody with considerable wealth. This narrowed down the list of potential suspects to a limited group, for there couldn’t be more than a couple hundred people in the entire county that could afford to invest so much into an insult.
“I’ll find out who did this,” assured Alistar, “and I’ll have my uncle confront them.”
“It’s alright,” smiled Mr. Herst. “These fools keep me quite well fed. It was them who provided me with the meat for our stew, after all.”
Alistar could tell that the man was affected by the intents behind the action, though a lifetime of experiencing such things had clearly hardened Mr. Herst’s mental fortitude.
“If you’re sure,” he sighed, walking over to the sand-rubbed utensils and them washing them thoroughly with water that he summoned from his surroundings. Seeing that a large patch of grass by the doorway had wilted, he glanced at his friend with an apologetic expression and said, “Sorry about that. I’m still getting the hang of using this spell.”
“Oho, worry not, Alistar. It’s quite impressive that you can use it so freely after only a limited amount of study.”
“I’ve spent months practicing it, though.”
“It takes most apprentices at least a year to master a new spell, which is why even the most talented ones can only use around ten or so. It might be a basic magic spell, but you’ve only been apprenticed for a year and yet you can use it so naturally. This is something to be proud of.”
Blushing at the praise, Alistar thanked the old man and then followed him back inside.
“Ah,” said Mr. Herst once they had settled on the heavy rug by the hearth. “You asked me about my ancestry.” Growing quiet for a moment, a contemplative gaze settled in his old, tired eyes. “Long ago, I would have been a part of the Great Felian Tribe, one of the four great tribes of the Drunaeda.”
“Truly?”
Alistar gained a new perspective on the degree of damage and destruction that the Inverted Wars had wrought upon this world. Supposedly the Felian Tribe had been one of the largest and most powerful groups amongst all of the Drunaeda, and yet Mr. Herst didn’t know whether or not he was the last remaining member of said clan? Many months ago, the old man had told him that each of the four tribes had occupied their own great kingdoms. For there to only be one or even a handful of descendants left to these ancient legacies was a very disturbing thought.