Erinn screeched at the sight of us.
"What have you gotten yourselves into now!?" she demanded, hands at her hips, her outburst shocking the patrons of the busy inn.
Riordan and I took a terrified glance at one another, then down at our new clothes full of paper thin cuts and holes all up and down the front of our bodies, each surrounded by dried blood.
"So it's like this. . ." Riordan bravely started. "We uh, went to this old forest up north and uh." he said, stopping short, elbowing me in the side.
"Right!" I chirped. "We went to the forest! Up north! It's really overgrown and stuff." I said. "Lots of uh, you know. . ."
Erinn's eyes squinted at me as I searched for my words. "Trees?" she asked.
"No no!" Riordan interjected. "No, it had lots of the uh, sharp, pointy bushes, ahhh—oh!" he exclaimed, pounding one fist into the palm of his other hand. "Brambles! Lotta brambles out there, Erinn."
"Brambles?" she repeated.
I nodded. "Brambles."
"We fell face-first into some brambles." Riordan lied. "The struggle to get out was the worst part, really." he added.
Erinn looked back and forth between us for a moment before sighing and shaking her head. "Well that was careless. Come on, let me fetch you guys something more presentable while I see to those shredded clothes." she said, gesturing for us to come around back.
Riordan took point and braved the next inquisition we received from Patty as we went about cleaning ourselves up. She was a lot less convinced by his excuses than Erinn, but let it rest all the same. Soon we found ourselves in new clothes, with freshly scrubbed skin, and a plate of hot food in front of us.
I ended up resting far less than my body would have liked, but I didn't care to keep the king waiting any longer than I already was. I tiredly began smoothing my clothes and untangling my mass of pink curls in an attempt to look presentable, though there was little I could do for the dark circles formed under my eyes – another new and exciting part of my mortality, it seemed. I left Riordan behind to continue sleeping. I had a feeling his majesty wasn't going to be pleased by what I had to tell him, and I saw little point in dragging the boy along just for us both to be yelled at. I made my way out of the inn when Erinn and Patty were at their busiest, as not to elicit any extra questions, then went to the castle.
I was swiftly ushered up the stairs as soon as I arrived so that I could deliver my news to the king. Inside, the royal family stood atop the center dais. It was my first time seeing the queen, and she was much like what you would expect of a lady in her position; elegant, extravagantly dressed, groomed to perfection, and dripping in jewels. She was a very slim woman, and though seated, it was obvious she was a tall and willowy. Her golden blonde hair only added to that height, piled atop her head in a magnificent bun that made for an impressive backdrop to her tiara. Countless strings of pearls interlaced with gleaming sapphires sat in the hollow of her throat and complimented the cascading waves of dark purple silk that made up the skit of her dress.
She was every bit the noble woman you would imagine at the side of a proud king, only that she was crying. Gentle sobs escaped her mouth as she held her head in her glove-covered hands, pleading for her daughter not to leave.
Simona stood in front of her parents, head held high, and spoke with an air of determination. "You can't change my mind, mother. I've decided that I'm going to answer to the knights demands." she said, the queens sobs growing louder.
The king turned to his wife with an incredulous expression. "There's nothing to be crying over, you silly besom! I'll never allow her to go!" he exasperated. "Ach, they'll be the death of me, these two. . ." he said, dropping his forehead into his hand.
The guard who ushered me in rapped the end of his spear against the stone floors, calling the attention of the entire royal family our way. The king's face lit up a moment later.
"Ah! It's Altaris!" he exclaimed, jumping from his seat. "I've been waiting on the edge of my throne for you to come back. Hurry closer now!" he said, gesturing for me to step forward, and I hastily complied, nervousness jerking me forward awkwardly into a bow.
The queen looked up from her hands towards me, her tear stained eyes glistening. "My husband told me about you. Have you saved our Simona yet? Oh, I do hope you'll be able to put our minds at rest soon. . ." she cooed, her voice as soft as a baby birds down.
"You're back, Altairis! Thank the Almighty!" Princess Simona said, clasping her hands together as I dipped my head low in respect. "I can't tell you what a relief it is to see you safe. . . Ah, but what about your young friend from before?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
The king sat back down and bade me to rise and ascend the dais so that I may tell all that had happened since Riordan and I had left.
I did as I was asked and consciously forced my hands down at my side to keep from wringing them as I started to explain. "Well firstly, Princess," I said, giving another slight bow of my head in her direction, "thank you for asking about my partner, he'll be so honored to know you've thought of him. He's in fine health, I had only thought it better to let him rest after our ordeal. I apologize for making you worry." I said.
Simona visibly relaxed at this, and nodded her head. With that out of the way, I took a deep breath and addressed the king.
I had thought long and hard about how much to tell him, and decided to keep as much of the magic out of it as possible. The king was a warrior, and as far as he knew, so was I. People who got results though force of will and physical strength didn't like nuanced answers, and they never relied on half-measures. But I couldn't deliver him the Wight Knight's head on a platter, so I had to come up with some way of convincing him of the truth without sharing too much of it. The idea there was a problem that couldn't simply be bludgeoned to death wasn't going to make him very happy, but he was still a king, and if it were a matter of diplomacy, surely he would understand that.
So I dressed up the story without making it an outright lie. I said the knight was addled from a head injury, that he had lost his memory and lashed out, mistaking the princess for his own fiance. Once we had clashed over it, he started coming to his senses and swore to never set foot in Stornway again. I stressed that he was a citizen of Brigadoom, and was already on his way back home.
". . .So you see now what my partner and I had encountered. True, he was a fierce warrior, but left no heavy wounds on either of us. He had no intent to kill or maim, he was simply a deeply confused man, and quite back to himself now." I assured the king.
A deafening silence fell over the throne room. I watched as the king sat slumped, eyes closed, massaging the bridge of his nose, as he very slowly and quietly began to speak. "I see. And you say he's sent you with a message that he promises to never return here?" he asked, his normally ruff and booming voice a tired whisper of itself.
I felt a deep unease as I answered him. "Y-yes, your majesty."
The king took a deep breath, resting his gnarled, bejeweled hands on the ends of his throne's arms as he hoisted himself to his feet. He stood only inches from me as his face twisted with anger, bellowing, "And you believed him!? Ha! Sounds like a ham-a-haddie to me. That blethering skite can't be trusted!" he raged. "And I'm not so sure you can be either!" he said, jabbing a finger at me accusingly. "Maybe you're a bit brain-addled too, taking a message for the man you're supposed to be hunting!" he yelled.
I stood there, completely mortified. I had always sought to impress the people I worked with, especially those above my own station, and while he was just a human, 'king' was still a very high station indeed. Seeing the veins throb in the forehead of one of the most powerful men in the mortal realm as he screamed in my face was a nightmare I hadn't even known I feared. I opened my mouth in defense of my integrity, but my voice would not join me.
"Father!" Simona pleaded. "Stop this. Why do you have such a low opinion of him anyway? What did he ever do to you?" she demanded, pulling the kings petrifying stare away from mine.
He frowned at his daughter and fell back into his seat with a huff. "Well, I've never even heard of Brigadoom for one thing. That alone proves he must be lying." he replied indignantly. "Here's the situation. . ." he continued, turning back to me. "Altairis, I've no doubt that miscreant will be back here before long after my Simona again. I have no need of such sob stories as you've delivered, what I need is for you to put a stop to him once and for all, understand?" he asked, his voice as sharp and pointed as a blade to my throat. I numbly agreed with a jerky shake of my head, my mind in a free-fall. The king only scowled at me. "Oh, and you can forget about trying to collect any reward!" he added.
Simona curled in on herself, head sunk toward her chest, hands clenched at her heart. "Why do you refuse to believe his story, Father? If he really is all on his own miles away from home, it must be terrible for him." she argued.
Her father turned to her, his expression and voice tired. "Och, lassie. I'm doing all of this to protect you, you know. Do try to understand." he said.
Simona's head shot up at his words. "You're one to talk about understanding!" she cried before she spun around and swept past me and out of the room once more.
"Simona!?" the king said, standing to his feet again, genuine concern deepening the lines of his face.
The queens sobbing renewed in strength. "Please, brave Altairis. . ." she bade of me, her eyes watering as she looked up at me. "You must defeat that knight so that my family can live in peace once more!" she cried, turning her gaze back down.
Even in her worry, her highness grieved ever so elegantly. A part of me stirred at her display. Someone of her rank wasn't supposed to be seen as vulnerable – delicate, precious? Sure. But not vulnerable and earnest. She wasn't afforded the same right to explode with worry or fear the way any other mother might if they felt their child was threatened. Even in begging a stranger to help her daughter, she had to remain aware of her beauty, her grace. Even though I knew her distress was unwarranted, her pain was very real – a pain she could hardly allow herself to express. That struck far too close to home.
Even if I hadn't needed their gratitude, I swore then to myself that I would fix all of this somehow.
The king still stood, staring past me, baffled over his daughter's retreat, and soon dismissed me. It felt as if I had forgotten how to use my legs as I awkwardly turned away and followed the guard back outside, nearly tripping over my own feet as we both rushed away from the agitated royal couple.
As the doors shut with a heavy thunk behind me, I blew my breath out and rested my hands atop my thighs, head hung low as I begged my heart to slow down. Just as I started to feel a little relief, I heard a distinct rustling. As I looked up, there I saw Princess Simona, her hands resting together gently on her massive skirts, but with an expression full of steel.
"H-hello, princess." I said as I felt my heart start to speed up once more.
"Altairis. There's something I need to talk to you about. I don't want anyone to overhear." she said, her deep, teal eyes flashing over towards the guard beside me. He didn't acknowledge us at all. "My room is just through that door and to the east. Could we talk there? It's about Brigadoom." she said.
My expression must have given away my surprise, as Simona simply smiled and turned away, bidding me to follow.
The door she led me through opened out onto a massive patio overlooking the city. I had thought the view of the castle from the town square was gorgeous, but it paled in comparison to seeing the colorful, sprawling landscape of Stornway laid out before me like lovingly crafted miniatures; it felt like the worlds most expensive toy set that ever existed. I certainly began to understand why anyone looking out onto a display like this might have a very self-important attitude; even I began to feel a bit like a king.
As I followed closely behind the princess, I spied two heartrendingly familiar shapes: guardian statues, each flanking either side of the patio, over-seeing the land as any Celestrian should. I didn't have the chance to inspect them to see if their names had changed or disappeared since the incident, but if all was well, they would read Tucana and Cygnus, two of my deeply respected superiors. I anguished over whether or not to ask Simona about them right then and there, desperate to have any clue of the fates of my colleagues. But I bit my tongue, forcing myself to focus on the job at hand.
I was mildly surprised as we entered her room. I hadn't known what I expected; It was beautiful, of course, obviously it could be nothing less. But it was sparse in many ways. It had all the same luxurious trappings as the rest of the palace, but her personal belongings were few and far between, not the piles of marvelous treasures you'd expect a royal family member to surround themselves with. The few pieces she had were invariably unique: Her enormous bed was carved into the shape of birds wings, the fine canopy above it so light I would have believed it was made of morning dew and spiders silk if she had told me so. Her vanity sprawled across one whole wall, the wood fashioned and painted to look like an enchanted forest of sorts; vines and flowers wrapping themselves around the massive mirror set in the middle. The entire thing was neatly filled with rows of perfumes and cosmetics, each thoughtfully placed with bottles and boxes of similar color, creating a rainbow display gilded in gold and jewels. Across from that was a glass sculpture of a flower, towering above both of us, the sun from the tall windows shining through its stained petals, casting a soft pink hue onto the center of the room.
Simona's expression wavered as she stared at me. "Sorry to ask you to come here like this." she said, embarrassment tinting her voice. "Father would just try to interfere if he overheard."
I gave her a reassuring smile. "Not necessary, princess. Please, tell me what you know about Brigadoom. Anything would be more than what I've got now." I admitted.
She nodded seriously. "You see, I have actually heard of Brigadoom. I remember it from a nursery rhyme one of the maids used to sing to me when I was a wee girl. Maybe that song could give us a clue as to how we can help to fix all this!" she replied with growing excitement. "The maid's gone back to live in Zere now, though. It's a tiny village just to the west of Loch Storn." she said.
The name Zere sent a tingling sensation through my brain as old memories resurfaced back from my time learning from Apus Major. The place wasn't very far, and it was all I had.
Simona bowed her head to me, her hands clenched at her chest. "The Wight Knight isn't the evil character that Father thinks he is, I just know it." she said, voice strained. She straightened to her full height again, composed and regal, more so now than any time I had seen her. "He needs help, Altairis. Please do whatever you can." she said.
It was if her determination fed into my own, like a gust of wind onto a fire. "I swear that I'll fix this, for him as much as you." I said. "I believe you, I know he's not evil."
The princess' mask of composure fell, her face scrunching up on the verge of tears. "Thank you so much for saying that. When no one will listen. . . it begins to make you feel crazy. . ." she replied, turning her face away from me in a bid to restrain herself.
I reassured her again as I turned away to leave. Before I did though, I had to ask her one last thing, something I was too afraid to go look at myself. "Sorry princess, this may come across as random, but do you recall the names engraved on those statues outside?" I asked, a lump of anxiety forming in my throat as I spoke.
Simona sniffed away her tears as she answered. "Ah, yes, Tucana and Cygnus, as they always have been for generations." she replied.
I thanked her profusely and quickly saw my way out of the castle on my own, relieved to know the two of them were still alright, somewhere.
"So I know what I plan to do, but what are your thoughts on this one, Stella?" I asked once I found myself a respectable distance from any passersby.
Stella emerged from my head in a burst of pink light and sighed. "My thought is that we're both going to flapping die before we ever get a little gratitude from these people." she groaned. "That king is lucky I didn't give a wallop 'round that big head of his. 'Ooooh, and you can forget about collecting any reward raaah rahhh' ptttbbhhh!" she said, blowing a raspberry.
I laughed. "I think the only thing you'd give him is a headache, but I understand where you're coming from. Unfortunately. . ." I trailed off.
"Ugh, what 'unfortunately'?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Unfortunately I get where they're all coming from too. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to win the king over, but I'm determined to help the Wight Knight. Hopefully his and the princess' benevolessence will be good enough. Either way we're technically doing as he asks." I said.
Stella tapped one long, manicured nail against her chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Hm. I don't think it really matters who is doing the thanking; royalty, peasant, horse. . . so long as there's enough of it, we can get the Starflight soaring all the same." she said.
"Exactly." I agreed.
"Now you just have to actually do a good job of it, and who knows how long that will take." Stella said with a roll of her eyes.
"Okay, back in the brain-prison for you." I said with a scowl.
Stella flipped her golden hair back from her shoulder and complied, insisting it was more roomy in there anyway, as I walked back to the inn to update my partner.
"She WHAT!?" Riordan screeched, clutching the sheet of his bed, hair still mussed from sleep.
I held my forehead in my palms as I sat opposite of him, wishing now that I had just drug him along with me. "How many times do I have to say 'She led me to her room so-'"
Riordan wailed. "Her ROOM! Almighty's judgment be damned, I'm about to break into the castle myself just to see it." he said, falling back onto the mattress with a soft thud.
I massaged my temples. "Please stop shouting and let me finish."
I could hear him grumbling under his breath, but it died down shortly. After a few seconds of silence, I continued with slow, measured words.
"She told me she's heard of Brigadoom befo-"
"What!?" he exclaimed, shooting back up to look at me. "Well what did she say about it!?"
I stared at him quietly for a moment.
Slowly his expression went from one of impatience to confusion, then a slight frown as he sat back on the bed and folded his hands in his lap. "Right. Sorry. Please finish."
I let another moment of tense silence pass. Once assured he was done talking, I continued.
"She heard of it from a maid of hers, part of some nursery rhyme. We're to go to Zere and find her. Hopefully that will lead us to some clues." I said.
Riordan's eyes grew wide. "Zere?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, it's a small village not too far from the Loch Storn, shouldn't take us terribly long to get there. If we leave now we'll be there by nightfall, I should think." I said.
The boy looked nervous, almost disturbed by the news.
"What is it?" I asked. "You've been there before?"
He licked his lips anxiously as he cast his gaze out the window. "In a manner of speaking." he said. "But don't worry, it's not a big deal. No one there will know me. . ."
I felt my brows furrow. It wasn't the first time Riordan had seemed haunted by something, but I didn't think it was ever right to broach the subject. But if bringing him with me were potentially damaging in some way, I couldn't believe that would be the right thing to do. Besides, things had already gotten more dangerous than I ever meant for them to. . .
"You know, after everything you did to help me with the Wight Knight, there's really no reason for you to still be traveling with me." I admitted. "If you go and apologize to the pastor you were staying with, I'd say we are more than even." I said.
His face immediately darkened as he turned to me. "Oh what, so you don't need me now?" he asked, his voice stony. "I have a little bit of a history with a place and now I'm suddenly some kid who'll just slow you down, that it?"
I raised my hands defensively. "No, that's not it at all. I meant exactly what I said, there's nothing left for you to do to make amends here-"
"No!" he said, cutting me off once more. "That's not true. I was supposed to do something good. And even though I think your whole deal is stupid, I'm not gonna let you treat me like some little kid and quit halfway through!" he said.
"You don't think what you've done so far has been good?" I asked.
He darted his eyes away from me and back again. "Well, maybe, just not good enough." he said. "That knight dude is still out there so everyone in Stornway is still nervous, and even he's all jacked up on magic still. . . I just don't feel like I've done much of anything yet, but I really think I could. . . " he mumbled.
I considered him for a moment. As resistant as he was to help in the first place, he was even more so about stopping. I wasn't sure I'd ever met someone so stubborn before. I surprised myself when I realized I was happy that I had.
"I feel the same way. And I guess since I roped you into this, it would be unfair of me to deny you the chance to see it through, huh?" I asked.
Riordan broke out into a boyish grin, making him actually appear his own age for once. "It's okay, I know it's in your nature as a lame-ass adult to be unfair. Thanks for fighting your instincts and doing the right thing." he quipped.
I scowled at him. "Everyone just wants to give me sass today. . ." I muttered.
"Huh? Someone at the castle give you attitude?" he asked, confused. "Ah! Was it that guard at the entrance again!?"
"No, no. Don't worry about it." I said, waving the comment aside. "We'd better start gearing up though, we can't have the princess in distress, can we?"
Riordan instantly jumped out of bed and started shoving his few belongings into a threadbare sack. "Too right! I could never let her majesty down!" he declared, still in his sleep-clothes with bits of blanket fuzz stuck in his hair.
I tempered the amusement in my voice as best I could. "A regular knight in shining armor. You know, the princess asked about you-"
"She WHAT!?" he screamed, dropping everything to floor. "Why aren't you talking!? Tell me everything!"
Despite how critically obnoxious I found him in the last half hour as he asked me inane and silly questions about Simona, I felt it was only right to get the boy a better knife before we left town again. The man at the weapon shop was pleased to hear how well Riordan handled himself and, as promised, brought out a fine selection of knives and daggers for purchase. We took a look through them together and shortly settled on one in particular. Hailed as a 'Divine Dagger', it was made with a simple metal that had been blessed during processing and therefore hurt especially bad against any monsters classified as undead. It wasn't immediately useful in the Stornway area, but I couldn't be sure what sorts of foes we would face the further from Angel Falls we went. It was beginning to become very clear to me that an academic knowledge in things alone was not all that I thought it was. It put my mind a little at ease to think we were prepared for at least one extra thing.
Riordan put on an act of being smug about his skill and basking in our praise, but when he thought our eyes weren't on him, he would chance a look at the knife we picked out and smile sadly. I couldn't help but wonder how long it might have been since someone had bought something for him, how long it had been since he hadn't needed to steal.
The sun was growing tired by the time we made it back to Loch Storn, and instead of turning off onto the overgrown path, we kept along the long road ahead of us towards Zere. Past the thick forests around the edge of Stornway and the loch were rolling fields of wheat. Row after row of tall, living gold laid out before us, waving in the cool evening breeze like a swath of flaxen hair, the setting sun glimmering across each strand. They were pools of rich yellow among the green grass, enchanting in a way I had not yet experienced before. I felt a bit giddy, how many other wonderful sights would I get to see in the Protectorate? I felt at odds with myself; every part of me should have wanted to return home and think of nothing else. Yet I could not fight back the smile on my face as we continued down the road.
"What're you grinning like a loony for?" Riordan asked, one eyebrow arched.
I swept my arm in front of me. "It's just so pretty, don't you think?" I said.
He looked around us, his expression confused. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, over and over, until he turned to me and said, "It's wheat."
I was grinning so hard my cheeks were beginning to hurt. "Yes, but it's pretty!"
He squinted at me. "For someone saying they're a traveler, you really need to get out more."
He may not have been as enamored as I was, but as night began to fall in earnest, things took a different turn. The sky went dark, the moon and stars unable to break through the heavy cover of clouds that rolled in above us, leaving the trail so black Riordan could barely see in front of him. My Celestrian vision ensured I had little problem seeing what was nearby at least, and I was greeted with the sight of my partner time and time again crashing into the fences on either side of the road, or accidentally brushing against me, sending him into hysterics over who was there. As amusing as I found it, eventually I suggested he simply hold my hand until we got close enough to Zere that he could see, or until his eyes began to adjust more. I expected that same stubborn refusal from him as usual, but to my surprise he promptly, if incredibly quietly, agreed. And so I led him through the darkness, the two of us together hand-in-hand. It felt like a very natural thing to do, a human thing that I would have experienced with my own 'brother', had we been born as mortals. Though I couldn't help but think Gallus wouldn't have had such a crushing grip.
Even with my sight, the later it got and the darker it became, the more things felt. . . off. The pleasantly cool breeze soon became a bone chilling gale, whipping at our clothes as if trying to peel them back from our skin and steal away into our marrow. The gentle wave of the wheat were now tall shadows dancing madly in the wind, surrounding us at every turn. There was this high pitched whistle whining through the trees, setting my teeth on edge, and a constant rustling that seemed to come from all directions. My eyes unable to piece through the dense crops on either side of the road, I worried we were rushing head-long into an ambush of some kind with every hurried step.
I was right to be.
Just as I was pulling Riordan past a bit of broken fence, I heard a rustling unlike the constant churn of leaves and wheat in the wind. Before I could react, two monsters burst out from the fields, weapons drawn.
I whipped the boy behind me in a panic as the edge of a Wooper Trooper's blade struck my thigh, eliciting a hiss of pain.
"What!? What's going on, Alta!?" Riordan exclaimed, panic clear in his young voice.
"Drop to your knees. Now!" I commanded, releasing my hand from his.
After a moment's hesitation, the boy dropped to the ground, curling in on himself tightly.
The Wooper Trooper stood steadfast in front of me as its partner attacked from behind him, swinging a long scythe toward my neck. The over-grown lizard I recognized, they typically patrolled near bodies of water, protecting their soft, scaleless bodies with helmets and shields. It was highly developed behavior for monsters, and the tools they used were a big curiosity among blacksmiths for years, using them as a basis for new smithing techniques. Though the beasts surprise attack was deep and left me bleeding, they weren't known for being overly aggressive, preferring to hide behind their armor and attempt to parry any attack their way. A tricky, though unremarkable foe on its own.
It wasn't alone though, and the creature positioned behind him was new to me. I thought perhaps my eyes were more faulty than I had believed, as the enemy before me appeared to be a simple scarecrow. It was like any old farmers scarecrow, all burlap stuffed with straw, except in his stick-hands was a scythe. It reminded me of the horrid little cursed money bags I discovered in the Hexagon, my mind flashing back to how uncomfortably close a call that trip was for me.
I leaned back, away from his blades tip, careful not trip over Riordan, and unsheathed my rapier.
"You're fighting something! Let me help!" the boy shouted from behind me.
I didn't have the focus to answer him as I ducked another swing of the enemies scythe and lashed my blade out in kind toward the steadfast Wooper Trooper. He deftly rebuffed my attack and to my surprise sent my balance twirling as I fell over, the wound in my leg hampering me more than I had expected. The monster behind the giant lizard rose up tall, raising its weapon high above its head, about to strike as I began to scramble to my feet, praying to avoid a repeat of the last time I fought against scythed foes.
A sharp whistle pierced the air as I felt something graze the curls around my face, and then, right in the belly of the beast was a dagger, embedded so deep only the handle was still visible. I looked past my shoulder to see Riordan standing, squinting in the darkness, one arm extended toward the enemy.
The monster dropped, silently writhing on the ground, it's wooden arms tugging at the blade stuck in it. Its comrade shrieked in anger as it rushed toward me and the boy, sword swinging at the air erratically.
I side stepped the lizard and quickly stuck my rapier in the back of its neck, its own blade mere inches away from my partner. I pushed it in deeper and deeper, ignoring its pained squeals that slowly died into gurgling pain until it puffed into ethereal smoke. I retrieved Riordan's dagger from the belly of the scarecrow look-a-like, then rammed my own sword through, once, then twice, a third time, until it was finally gone.
"I think you dropped this." I said, handing my friend his weapon.
His face crooked up into a forced half smile. "Yeah, it just slipped, thanks."
I shook my head. "No, thank you. That wasn't going very well for me." I admitted.
He replied with an exaggerated shrug. "Happens to the best of us, so I can only imagine how much it must happen to you." he said.
I laughed, the tension easing from me bit by bit. "Okay, I'm not showing you any more gratitude, let's get out of here already." I said, moving on with a slight limp.
Riordan didn't follow. "You tried to protect me." he said. "Thank you."
I didn't look back at him. "Don't think twice about it, we protected each other." I said, silently wondering if I would ever be strong enough to be a guardian as I should, and not have to rely on the people I was meant to look after.
It wasn't much longer until we came upon Zere, its gentle lights as welcoming as the sun itself to the two of us at this point. The outer wall of the small village was made from tall, sharpened logs; an impressive feat for such an out of the way place, but the towns small size probably made it easy enough to maintain. The entrance was wreathed in a series of large wooden arches, and that was about the flashiest piece of architecture in sight, probably in the whole area. Everywhere you looked was just packed dirt roads, barren little fences, and lots and lots of green. What it lacked in adornment it made up for in its natural beauty however, as all dotted along the road were lovely little trees in full bloom, each like clouds of pink candy-floss floating among the houses. It was late by the time we arrived, and nearly the only thing you could hear was the unmistakable gurgle of water nearby; a sound I found was becoming a comfort to me in my travels.
To my surprise there was an elderly lady resting not far from the village gate, her expression serene, then excited as she saw us approach. "Och, hello there!" she greeted as she stood. "We dinnae often get visitors all the way out here." she said, ambling towards us with greater ease then I would have expected of someone her age.
"Greetings!" I replied with a simple wave.
"Welcome to Zere! You know, you've come at a good time." she said. "Our beloved tree is in bloom at the minute, it's the pride of our village! So make sure you give her a look in the morn', will you?" she said, beaming with pride.
I could see the tree looming atop a large hill in the center of town, high above from where I stood. It was easy to tell it was an impressive size, but the shadowy outline of the branches against the night sky were sparse and thin, certainly no match for Yggdrasil at any rate.
". . .so similar. . ." Riordan muttered, eyes slowly scanning the area around us.
The old lady's face softened as she looked at the boy, then back to me. "Is your little brother alright?" she asked quietly.
I blinked. "My wha—oh. Uh." I said, looking to the boy beside me. He didn't seem to be here at all. "He's uh, fine. We just ran into a bit of trouble on the road." I said, gesturing to my wounded leg.
The woman hunched down and squinted hard for a moment before grimacing. "Oh my! You should hurry to the inn and get a lie down then. The priest is in, I'm sure he could patch you right as rain, dear." the lady said, pointing down a small hill to the right.
I eyed the stout, long building for a moment then thanked her. As I passed the old woman, I could see from my peripheral an oddly familiar hunk of stone. I gave it a second glance and realized it was a guardian statue, but it had fallen to pieces, bits of the head and wings fallen around its perimeter, as if it had been struck by something from above. I awkwardly limped my way towards the statue, squatting down with a pained hiss and took a look at the inscription at its base.
There was none.
My heart fluttered then sank in my chest. I thought about all the Celestrians that had died, crushed beneath falling rock and by the cars of the Starflight Express as they were blasted from the sky on that terrible night. How many of them were guardians? How many places in the protectorate were now going without any guidance at all?
"Alta?" Riordan asked, from behind me. I hadn't heard him approach. "Sorry about spacing out, I'm just, uh, tired. Can we get to the inn?"
I grimaced as I stood back up, clearing my throat of pain. "Ah, yeah, of course." I said, moving away from the statue.
"Oh." Riordan said, eyebrows lifted. "The statue's broke. That must have happened recently." he said nonchalantly. "Used to have some weird name carved in it too, huh, weird." he added, leaning in towards it.
I paused. "Wait. How do you know that?" I asked, confused. Stella herself said he had basically no affinity for the supernatural, how would he have been able to know there used to be an engraving here?
He turned toward me, mouth open but silent, obviously searching for some lie. "Ahhh, I just heard about it is all. Anyway, what're we still doing out here in the cold? You're being rude, bleeding all over the place like that, you know." he hastily replied, passing by me in a huff.
I shook my head, mindfully stowing away my questions for a later time, and followed him down the stairs and into the inn.
It was a simple structure, all dark wooden beams that made the low ceiling even more claustrophobic. It was decorated nicely enough, with rich cerulean tiles along the floor and a plush little welcome mat embroidered with bright orange flowers; though nothing quite compared to the Quester's Rest now that Erinn was at the helm.
"I came to this village to see the magnificent tree that I had heard so much about." said a large, finely dressed man to a priest sitting with him at a nearby table. "And I wasn't disappointed. It's incredible! This is the kind of sight you only see once in a lifetime." he boomed, taking a shot of some dark liquid out of a finely cut glass, wiping away the excess liquid from his thick mustache with one bejeweled, hairy hand.
An extraordinarily large man stood behind him in full armor, his head nearly obscured by one of the low wooden beams of the ceiling. "A lifetime." he rumbled in agreement with his master.
The priest – a much smaller man than his companions – was half slumped across the table, drink in one hand, head hanging awkwardly as he spoke. "It is said. . ." he began, more loudly than necessary and with a distinct slur. ". . .that the great tree of Zere once encircled the entire village in its nurturing branches-" he said, flinging his arms out wide, sloshing his drink onto the floor. "-oh. Ah, I'll clean that up. But a great rain came!" he suddenly shouted, wiggling his fingers as he lowered his arms. "Causing many of its mighty boughs to wither and droop. Such a shame. . ." he finished, taking a swig of his glass only to find there was little left in it.
I heard a warm chuckle from nearby and saw a woman sitting at the bar across from them. Lounging, was more like it really. She was perched upon a stool, facing the two men, one elbow leaned back onto the countertop, legs crossed in front of her. "It seems our dear pastor is a lightweight." she said, her voice like honey. "Another round for my new friends, my sweet, on me of course." she purred, head tilted back towards the woman behind the counter.
The proprietor was an older, heavy set woman, in a bright pink dress, a soiled apron, and neatly wrapped headscarf. Her face broke out into a brilliant grin at the other woman's order. "Aye, my pleasure!" she replied, deftly fetching a fresh pair of glasses and fixing their orders.
I waddled my way up to the counter and rested against it, eager to get a room and tend to my leg myself. It was a fine suggestion at first, but I was having serious doubts about the priest healing me in such a state.
Riordan awkwardly sat beside me, face flush and blue eyes wide as saucers as he stared at the woman at the bar.
I elbowed him. "Rude." I whispered.
He looked like he was going to argue, but stopped and kept his eyes forward, boring holes into the back wall.
I couldn't rightfully blame him for staring though, she was a very. . . distinct individual. She was relaxed as a cat in a sunbeam, draped over the tiny stool, her long tan legs fully on display through the high slit of her dress, with an impressively ample amount of chest to match. Though she was rather soft looking throughout, her features were strong, even when relaxed. Her jawline and cheek bones were sharp enough to be used as a weapon, and her deep set hunters eyes were a pale gray, nearly silver in the low-light of the inn. They were expertly painted with rich brown and gold pigments that blended into her warm skin; despite all their sparkle, you could almost believe she was just born looking so glamorous. Her hair, a gentle lavender that contrasted against her darker skin, was a small cascade of thick curls just brushing the tops of her shoulders, adorned here and there with extravagant pins. Her lips, full and dyed the color of mulberries, stretched into a lazy grin as she watched the two men receive their next round, chattering about local legends.
As the owner of the inn came back around to the desk, I greeted her.
"Och! Forgive me!" she exclaimed, pulling her attention away from her more lively guests. "I didnae realize I had more customers." she said, retrieving a note pad from under the counter top. "Welcome to our inn, weary travelers. You must be exhausted at this late hour."
"More than you know" I said, leaning away from the counter to show off my wounded leg. "I'd love it if I could find a quiet place so I could tend to this." I said with a forced smile.
The woman gasped, drawing the attention of the lady at the bar. As the older woman hurriedly shuffled off to ready our rooms, the glamorous woman across from me turned her gaze my way, and sat upright for the first time since we'd entered, a strange look crossing her face ever so briefly before returning to that soft, relaxed smirk.
"Let me make an educated guess, Ragged Reapers?" she asked, dipping her head in the direction of my leg.
Riordan and I looked at one another. "Ragged what?" he asked.
The woman turned all the way in her seat now, arms draped across the bar as she leaned on her elbows. "At a glance that wound doesn't look like a scythes work, but almost nothing shows up on those roads this late other than the Ragged Reapers – hideous little contraptions, look like they belong in a low budget play about a cursed farm of something." she said, chuckling to herself.
"Well, you're right on both counts." I admitted. "The wound is from a sword but we did run into extra trouble due to one of these 'reapers'." I said. "How knowledgeable for someone not from the area."
"That obvious?" she jokingly asked, running her polished hands down her body with a shimmy. "It's a lovely place, and the alcohol is excellent, but they just don't carry my kind of clothes." she laughed.
She did wear a finely crafted ensemble at that, not what you'd expect to see in an out-of-the-way town that's big claim to fame is a tree. A dress that tied at the waist, it was a lightly dyed blue silk all over, with flounces of some fine, gauzy material peeking through from underneath. The sleeves were wide but stopped short of her wrists to showcase her jewelry, of which she stacked many pieces together. Even her shoes, while flat for traveling, tied up around her calves in ribbons and ended in little bows behind her knees.
"You know. . ." she continued, scooching over a seat closer. "I've got just the thing for something like that." she said, casually fishing out a small vial of faintly luminescent blue liquid from a pouch at her waist, her unsettling gaze never wavering from me.
I held my hands up apologetically. "Sorry, I don't think I could afford anything that looks that fancy at the moment. Besides, I just need a place where I can concentrate and I should be able to handle it well enough." I said, faintly doubtful that my very basic healing magic would be up to snuff.
The lady leaned forward across the corner of bar left between us, chest pressed against it as she slowly slid the tiny bottle my way with a smile. "On the house, beautiful. Pour that right onto the wound and you'll be out running away from reapers again in no time." she said. "Or doing anything else that might find a young lady in trouble at such a late hour."
I hesitated, and as I did, the innkeeper returned.
"Great! I've got a darlin' room all fixed up already so I'll just leave this key right here, okay? Second door on the left." she explained, sliding the key across the counter, which an impatient Riordan snatched up.
Just as he was about to sprint past the two of us and on towards our room, he stopped short and grabbed my elbow, lowering my head closer to his. "Hey. Don't take strange liquids from strangers. Even if they're trying to hit on you." he said before leaving, giving the lady across from me a stern look.
I was confused, as she hadn't tried to strike me at all, but I would keep my guard up and be ready if she tried.
She returned his gaze with a mocking smile until he was no longer in sight, then returned her attention to me. "Cute kid." she said with a laugh.
I sat down and thought about Riordan's warning. It was a suspect offer, obviously, and one I would never allow him to accept himself. But I knew my lineage wasn't easily effected by poisons or curses, and even in my current form I found I hadn't gotten a single cold, fever, or infection regardless of how careless I had been with my wounds. It was maybe foolhardy of me, but I had more confidence that a stranger wasn't trying to randomly kill me than I did in my own healing magic.
I uncorked the bottle, sniffing it suspiciously – eliciting another giggle from the lady across from me – then poured the contents onto my leg. It was a small splash all told, but it had a profound and instant effect. As soon as the concoction hit my skin, I felt a complete numbness from my wound down, only for a moment, until it all came rushing back as little pinpricks of ice across my skin. Then, like frost under the midday sun, it was all warm again and I felt. . . great. I probed the wound, but there was no wound anymore. Just skin, perfectly whole and unblemished. I felt my jaw hang in amazement as I continued to poke at my leg curiously.
When I looked forward again, I saw the woman in front of me, grinning widely, her silver eyes gleaming as she leaned in close to my where I had been bleeding. "That worked fantastically!" she said, her stare burning into me.
I leaned away from her. "Uh, yeah, it's pretty amazing, where did you get such a thing?" I asked, half of me captivated by her, half wanting to escape.
The lady stood tall and smoothed the front of her gown as she composed herself. "Ah, it's a blend of my own that I've had sitting around for some time." she explained, taking a seat away from me. "I hope you don't mind now since it worked, but it's rather experimental. It's meant to react to something in the very fabric of our body, but I wasn't sure I had successfully found a mixture that would amplify our natural healing processes or not." she explained, rather giddily. "You see, I wasn't very interested in getting wounded myself, and there are ethical boundaries where I'm from that I am not entirely interested in crossing lest I fall into even less grace among my fellows. . ." she said.
I raised an eyebrow. "But handing it off to a stranger in a bar is perfectly fine?" I asked.
She shot me a dazzling grin. "I never said I wasn't unethical. Only that I wouldn't take such a risk at home." she said, leaning her chin into her hand gently. "But my, you must have some extraordinary self-healing. That worked far quicker than I had planned for. Unless I just miscalculated my ingredients when I made it, but I'm more likely to sprout wings and horn and start vomiting rainbows than doing something like that." she said, smiling dreamily to herself.
I grew more nervous. I was a lot more resilient than your average mortal, and it had been remarked upon a few times, but never by anyone so inquisitive.
I cleared my throat. "So, thank you again, but I really ought to be seeing myself to bed. Much to do in the morning. . ." I offered, standing up, still surprised to be able to put such weight on a freshly hurt leg.
"Cerys." the lady said.
"Excuse me?"
She stood up, a little too close to be considered normal, and smiled. "My name is Cerys Pelleas. Globe-trotter, wizard, researcher, and all around total package, really. And you are?" she asked, practically purring in my ear.
I shuffled backwards a bit, clumsily knocking over the stool I had been sitting upon. "Ah, uh. I'm Altairis." I stammered.
"Altairis. . ." she repeated, as if tasting it in her mouth. "Yes. I see. I should thank you, I believe. You've given me a lot to think about." she said.
I stopped, halfway bent, reaching for the overturned seat. "Er, you're very welcome?" I said.
Cerys gave me a very well-practiced courtesy, one that showed so much thigh it would probably reduce any mortal girl to jealous tears, then she bade me a goodnight. "See you in the morning." she said.
"Right!" I replied, busying myself with pushing the stools back in toward the counter, waiting for her to leave. Once she was out of sight, I stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to think of my encounter. There was something about this woman that felt different than every other mortal I had met so far.
"What do you make of it Stella?" I asked, uncaring if anyone heard me talking to myself.
"Absolutely flappin' bonkers you dumped that dreck all over yourself, you brainless anthill." Stella helpfully replied, the sound of her voice creating an immense pressure on my skull. "Didn't anyone tell you not to take suspicious vials full of glowing liquid from strangers!? Oh wait! Yes they did. In fact, a thirteen year old boy did just a few minutes ago!"
I rubbed my temples, grimacing.
"Just know that if your leg falls clean off, I can't lug you around myself. I may be stupendously strong, but even I have limits." she warned. "Also, I'll laugh and say I told you so."
"You didn't say anything!" I countered through clenched teeth.
"You don't like it when I talk in here, remember? Hmph! How'd I get stuck with such a whiner. . ." Stella argued, completely correct.
A booming laugh from across the room distracted me from the conversation, and I turned to see the well dressed man cackling over the passed out body of the thin priest, who was quietly drooling onto the table between them. I decided now was a good time to call it a night.
As I entered the room, I noticed Riordan perched atop the dresser, in a low crouched position, heels flat, hands together in a meditative stance.
"Uh. What are you doing?" I asked, shutting the door behind me.
"Keeping myself awake, waiting for you!" he accused, hopping down onto the floor with a grunt. "You were out there awhile with miss stranger-danger, you know." he said, flopping himself onto his bed.
I followed suit, onto my own mattress. "You're right, sorry. It did work though, you know." I said, flopping my cured leg about.
Riordan jolted upwards from his bed. "WHAT did you do!?" he asked, immediately diving into a rant about taking things from strangers and street smarts and using ones common sense.
This went on for awhile until tiredness over came the both of us, and we agreed it would be best to get some sleep and see to tomorrows quest for knowledge as quickly as we could.
As I began to drift to sleep, a small thought came to my mind. In the middle of nowhere I had met not only a very knowledgeable sorceress, but also a knight that seemed to be under a great magic spell. I idly rubbed the healed area of my leg and hoped that it was just an amazing coincidence.