Chapter

An Old Warrior Knows

“Yes. She does have some patterns, although she was harder to track than both of you.” He used his index finger to circle certain clusters of blue ink on the page around Sunken Folk ruins scattered around The Continent, as well as The Capitol to the east. While the human settlements were marked with tiny layouts that mirrored their real-life planning, the Sunken Folk ruins were each marked with a stylized star with a dozen sharp points all collecting in the center in a dark swirl. The swirl wasn’t unadorned however, and it reflected a design Mikel had come to know all too well - it matched the whorls and dips within the depths of the Callisto Jewel.

He hadn’t asked the map maker to add a detail like that - and yet the patterning had appeared as if he’d given the man the exact dimensions of The Jewel. He didn’t like the implications that were presented and generally kept his mind elsewhere.

“Like these clusters here, here and here,” He stabbed several of the stars with his finger, “She’s been searching for something in the ancient Sunken Folk ruins all over the Continent. I didn’t believe the distance she covered each year, but then I found out she has a teleportation power which allows her to cover great distances in a few moments.”

“Yes - that damnable power of hers.”

“What do you mean? It seems extremely useful - being able to move from one end of The Continent to the other in minutes. I could think of so many applications for that it’s not even funny.”

Helsket grumbled, “You say that and yet you’ve never taken a trip with that witch. You know how ill you feel now?”

Mikel grimaced, the conversation having distracted him from his hangover for a few minutes, then burped and grimaced as hot, acrid breath spilled out between his teeth.

Yes. He was aware of how he felt now.

“Picture that amped up by several dozen degrees. Anyone with access to Essentia could stomach the trips easily enough, but people like me - well, we never fared well. Your father hated traveling that way as well.”

“Didn’t he have Essentia and access to magic? Wasn’t that the whole reason he could use his sword?”

“Aye, that’s right,” Helsket said, “But something about your father was always different. He could use his sword as well as his father, or his father before, but traveling via teleport never sat well with him.”

“That’s a bit of a letdown,” Mikel said as he rubbed the ever-present scruff on his chin.

“Why’s that?”

Mikel held up his hands, “No magic. No access to Essentia. I was assessed early on… and, well, you know. It’s a good thing the Crest of Evening was lost - I wouldn’t have been able to wield it anyway. I don’t know which is a worse disgrace - Dad having lost the sword in battle, or his only son unable to wield the legendary blade of our house. I think he saved us some heartache when it was destroyed in battle. At least we got another story out of it.”

For a long moment the two stared at the map in front of them before Mikel broke the silence, “But, that’s something to discuss at a later date. Mom, before she left the estate, always said you told that story best. I’d like to hear it once we settle into a routine.”

Helsket unconsciously fingered the scar that ran along the side of his face and nodded, “It was quite an adventure, that one. I think… I think that was when your father began to succumb to The Rot.”

Mikel perked up, interest flaring in his chest.

“What do you mean?”

The air between the two had shifted from amicable ease to something tighter and more strictured. Mikel’s stomach bound against itself, defying the latent sickness from his hangover which clung to him like thick, sloppy mud.

Helsket scratched at the bald spot on top of his head, “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that. It was only ever my imagination I think. Don’t let it bother you.”

Helsket glanced at Mikel briefly before looking back to the map.

The look said more than Helsket ever could and Mikel filed that away in the back of his head for later discussion.

Mikel eased back and drummed his fingers on the table. He suspected Helsket knew more than he was letting on, but sensed this was no time to press. Not hard at least.

“So, you’re planning to go to Stennin, talk to Cal, then head east to the Capital. Any other plans in between? Even if we move quickly it will take us the better part of a week to get to Stennin and then double or triple that if we’re on foot to the Capital. The fires might slow us down, as might the warbands which punched through the Emperor's line.”

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Mikel shrugged as his eyes traced the trade routes across The Continent he’d mapped out so many times he could recreate them by heart. The motion helped distract him from the surprise he’d felt at Helsket mentioning his father’s condition so evenly.

“Unless something comes up, yeah. I’m hoping it’ll be a boring trip. The adventure starts when we reach Helgate.”

“Boring? What good is boring?”

“I mean, we want to get to HelGate in one piece, right? Boring is the best way for that. I’ve heard of too many people being killed or dying randomly. I… I’m fine if I die in the attempt to get to HelGate, but I’d prefer it to be while actually at HelGate.”

“And here I was thinking you were smart for your age.”

Mikel squinted and shook his head, “What do you mean?”

Helsket chortled, “Safe is good, boring is not. Plus - with this trip, with the crew you’re trying to put together, there’s very little chance of anything being boring.”

“Then we have to be doubly careful to avoid trouble,” Mikel said, “Believe me, I know what kind of dangers wait in Helgate, but -”

“You know the dangers in Helgate?” Helsket looked at Mikel with something between bewilderment and scorn, “You’re telling me you’ve been there? Fought the critters crawling out of the Hel portals or even worse, those that crawl out of the ground or appear out of thin air?”

He stabbed the map with his index finger pointing to a small note that indicated a military encampment, just north of Helgate, “Here. There’s a reason the Emperor sent only two battalions to the garrison here when he desperately needed more bodies to plug the gaps of Helgate. He put men there, men he could use in the war, just as bodies in the way of Helgate in an attempt to contain the plague spilling out from that cursed place long enough to make a difference. Those men sent there don’t know it yet, but they’ve all signed their death warrants. They won’t last their rotation. The horrors of Helgate can drive a man mad with a glance - you can’t think of fighting the things that crawl out like you would a man. You don't know the dangers of the world at large - let alone Helgate.”

During his lecture, the air between the two men had grown tense and Mikel stared intently at the map, trying to figure out what to say. Normally he would have had some type of rebuttal, but this time he had nothing.

Helsket was right. Mikel had done everything he could to get ready for the trip, but in the end, the most actual work he’d done was to practice by himself with his sword in the dusty, moldering armory at the estate and to study. It was the extent of what he could do.

Helsket shot out a quick breath, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m… Not myself sometimes. I knew things were bad with your father, but I didn’t know they were so dire. You showing up on my doorstep is enough to send my mind whirling. I’d set myself on retirement and not doing anything else - and yet, here you are, pulling me back into the fray. What do you make of that?”

Mikel shifted and looked at Helsket, taking him in. Many warm feelings came up from early memories of the big man playing swords or lances with him. Helsket was, in many ways, the older brother he’d never had and when he’d been forced off the estate, along with everyone else, Mikel had been just as hurt as his father’s retainers.

“And that’s why I need you,” Mikel said simply, pulling the pile of maps toward himself before stuffing them into a leather sheath with a leather cap on one end. “You’re right, I know nothing of this world other than what books told me. I know nothing of fighting aside from what I was able to cobble together myself. I’m completely helpless when it comes to -” He cut off as a bitter gorge rose up in the back of his throat.

Mikel swallowed it back as a terrible taste of last night’s drink and that morning’s food burbled up and grimaced, “You get the drift.”

“That’s the first sign of wisdom you know - so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Wisdom? Which part of this is wisdom? It sounds more like cowardice to me”

Helsket laughed, “Only to a stupid man would this seem cowardice. Let this be your first lesson as an adventurer - The good adventurers and warriors - the ones who grow old, know this one lesson above all others.”

“And that is?” Mikel felt despondent and wasn’t too interested in hearing anything more at that point. Helsket’s lecture had hit him on the metaphorical nail's head, and the truth was a bitter morass.

“A good warrior knows when he’s beat. A great warrior knows when to retreat. An old warrior knows when to stay clear of trouble unless it’s necessary.”

“Didn’t you just get done telling me that we won’t be able to avoid trouble on this trek?”

“That I did,” Helsket said with a smile, “I never said we’d go searching it out. Trouble has a way of finding you whether you like it or not. Try to find it or try to avoid it - it’ll find you regardless.”

***

“Tell me of what you know of The Jewel around your neck,” Helsket grumbled as his head lolled down towards his chest. The heat of the day had grown nearly unbearable and both men were silently suffering in the morass with sweat dripping down their skin and soaking clothing and hair alike.

At that moment Mikel would have gladly traded the hangover which had worn off sometime close to an hour ago, for the heat soaking through him.

“What do you want to know?” He asked through the still air. At one point the two had ventured out in the hopes of finding a whiff of wind to take the edge off the pain but had failed miserably only to retreat to Helsket’s home to boil together.

“What you know,” Helsket said, half awake, “I’ve heard the legends - but what have you found out about it?”

Mikel let his mind wander to The Jewel around his neck and then, surprised as he hadn’t willed the motion, found his hand wrapped firmly around the artifact through his shirt.

He glanced at Helsket and was relieved to find the big man hadn’t seen him grab at The Jewel and quickly released it. The cool, faceted surface fell back against his skin as the only bit of respite either man experienced in the unrelenting heat.

“Nothing much. Remember, I don’t have access to Essentia. The Jewel, although powerful in legend, hadn’t shown much use for anything to me other than to draw unwanted attention.”

Helsket bobbed a nod, “Any strange happenings. Dreams, maybe.”

A shiver crept up Mikel’s back and he narrowed his eyes at the dozing man, “How’d you know about the dreams?”

Helsket snorted and bucked, now fully asleep.

It took Mikel a long moment to collect himself. The revelation that someone other than himself knew about the dreams he’d been experiencing ever since claiming The Jewel, shook him.

The dreams weren’t generally enough to wake him up, but they were enough to shake him to his core when he awoke. There was only so much blood, darkness, and infinite depths a mind could take before it collapsed.

He didn’t know much about The Callisto Jewel aside from the legends and the dreams, but he knew he’d need it in the coming days. The legends surrounding it weren’t just about powerful Essentia wielders - many, some of the greatest who’d held The Jewel, hadn’t had any power outside of their sword arms.

Helsket snorted again and Mikel leaned back in the chair, too awake now to try at sleep - and even if he’d been tired, too nervous after what Helsket had said.