A/N: Okay, so it's safe to say at this point I really took Agatha's story and ran with it - BUT I promise this is all relevant and important, especially at the end of this chapter, and I have not forgotten about our friends Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, and Olaf. We are on a steady climb to the climax at this point and I will not disappoint, there are still plenty of surprises in store. Thanks for reading :)
Agatha fought on, making good use of the skills she had learned from the Anvellish people, foraging what she could, building fires and setting traps, creating camps from scratch to make it through the long nights when she could walk no further.
When she finally reached a small town, she threw herself at a chance to work for a roof to sleep under. For weeks, Agatha worked for a farmer from dusk until dawn, sleeping in the attic of his barn, earning herself a meager meal every day.
Eventually she worked off enough to pay for one of the farmer's horses and then she was gone again, continuing east on horseback.
It didn't take long after that for Agatha to realize she had entered the Eastern Kingdoms. Small villages turned to bustling towns and dirt paths turned to cobbled roads. Buildings like those she remembered in Myleria started appearing and with them came the tallest trees she had ever laid eyes on, towering over even the largest buildings like watchful wood guardians. Plants and flowers bloomed all around and the air was thick with moisture. The landscape began to ripple with hills and valleys and the sun would paint the cloudy horizon in spectacular shades of purple every single evening.
The people here were different as well. The further east Agatha went, the shorter and stockier the citizens became. Eventually, Agatha was the tallest person everywhere she went, drawing peculiar looks and making children whisper to their friends in astonishment.
Their stature was not the only strange thing about these people, Agatha couldn't help but notice. Every man and woman past puberty had a different peculiar color of hair. Not the normal variety of black, brown, or blonde that was normal in the North, but bright and unnatural colors – pinks, blues, greens and yellows, colors that varied in every sense of the word and could never grow from the head of a human naturally, as far as Agatha knew.
Crowds looked like rainbows, so much so that Agatha's mouse-brown curls seemed dull and plain enough to dampen the scene anywhere she went, as if an artist had dipped his brush into the wrong color of paint. People noticed her, and they made no effort to hide their stares.
It was no small wonder, as Agatha's height wasn't her only strange feature. Her long, thick hair was braided in a traditional Anvellish braid, which looked out of place on a Northern girl to begin with, highlighting her square facial features and large, brown eyes. She still wore her wolfskin garments, handmade by the king's men in Bal'rok, making her look like a wild huntress far from her hunting grounds. To top it off, she was much more muscular than she had been before her banishment, and at least six inches taller than nearly everyone she passed.
Agatha remembered what it had been like growing up in Myleria, where she could travel all day through crowds and nobody would even spare her a passing glance. Now she was a giant among dwarves and no less than a spectacle.
Let them gawk, she thought as she rode through towns and parted crowds. It's better than being invisible.
Agatha did her best to ignore her misplaced appearance and focus on her next step. It had been months since the fall of Bal'rok and she had lived off of nothing but berries, nuts, and the occasional stringy piece of meat from a hare she managed to trap since the farm. She also hadn't had a good night of sleep in what seemed like ages.
Luckily the people in the East spoke the common tongue and Agatha had no issues asking around and finding her bearings. She had landed right on the border of the Kingdom of Xhanu, a fairly large and spread out nation that she had only heard rumors about.
Some called Xhanu the Land of Steel because of its infamously fine-crafted weaponry and the people's skill in swordplay. It was true, as Agatha quickly saw, there were armories and smith shops at every corner and it wasn't uncommon to see people carrying a blade at the hip.
Everywhere that wasn't a town or city in Xhanu was a thick jungle, damp and dangerous, hidden away from the world, making it an anomaly of sorts to anybody that wasn't from there. It was no wonder there were few travelers about, and that made Agatha all the more out of place.
Remembering Queen Alissa and Ramsay the Earthquake, I wondered about the Highborn. What secrets did the royalty of Xhanu have to hide? Were there magic users here as well, in some time long ago, or even now?
At the time, I had no way of finding out. I was more concerned with my short-term wellbeing than my research. Still, the thought never left my mind, even on nights when I went to sleep hungry.
The first town Agatha found herself in was nothing special, though it was far better than the wastelands that loomed to the west. She dismounted at the first inn she saw, hauling her entire pack along with her.
The inn was empty, dark, and dusty, with only a bar and a few tables lit by candles on the first floor. The innkeep was standing on a chair fixing a hole in the wall when Agatha entered.
He was a short, fat man with long, light green hair and a pug nose. He wore a strange looking robe decorated with flowers and had a sweaty forehead, and he grunted as he strained to reach for the hole to patch it up.
When he noticed Agatha, he turned and took a moment to eye her up and down and then had to stifle a laugh. "What jokester god sent us this one, eh?" he said bluntly.
Agatha ignored the insult, pushing her pack onto the table of the bar as the man stepped down from the chair. "I'm in needuva room," she said.
"You have the coin?"
"Not exac'ly, but I have –"
"Of course you don't!" he cut her off. "A brown-haired Northern girl dressed like an Anvel warrior doesn't have any money. Why did I even bother asking!"
Agatha clenched her jaw. "I can give ya fair work for fair housin'."
"Oh, don't be so serious, girl. I'm only teasing," the man laughed, shuffling behind the counter and grabbing a flagon of wine for himself. "It's not every day I see a girl come through here with hair like that."
"An' what's so wrong with my hair!?" Agatha snapped, feeling strangely self-conscious. "Is it ugly, 'cause it's not puke-green like yers?"
"Puke?" the inkeep gasped, taken aback. "My, my girl, do you know nothing? This is your first time in Xhanu? You have not even heard of the Teishu ritual?"
Agatha stayed silent, her mood soured. The man's manner shifted instantly, as if realizing he was speaking to a child or a half-wit. "Allow me to educate you, girl. You are in the kingdom of Xhanu, a very old and proud place with thousands and thousands of years of tradition." He poured Agatha her own cup of wine and offered it to her. She took it begrudgingly and sipped it while he spoke.
"Here, we value those with skill, and we mark our people in accordance with their spirit and personality," he said, fingering his green hair between his thumb and index as if to demonstrate what he was saying. Agatha just stared.
"When a child reaches a certain age, they are expected to have mastered a skill, something that contributes to our society. Then, they go through something called the Teishu ritual, where they demonstrate that skill to their communities, proving their worth and creating a name for themselves. At the end of the ritual, they are marked with the essence of Teishu, the Goddes of Virtue, and their hair forever becomes the color of their spirit, their very being. Those that have not been marked by Teishu are said to be worthless to our society. You are unmarked, my girl. Forgive my rudeness, but there is a reason foreigners are looked down upon here in Xhanu."
That made many things make sense to Agatha, but unwilling to show gratitude for the explanation, she grumbled, "It ain't my fault I was born in Myleria and didn't go through no dumb ritual." The man looked amused as she took another sip of wine and said, "I'm assumin' inns work the same way in Xhanu as e'rrywhere else, hm? You got a room for me or not?"
The innkeep laughed. "Well you are lucky, my girl, as my hair is green, and it just so happens that green is the color of generosity. Fair work for fair housing, yes?"
The innkeep's name was Raikka, and he allowed me to stay there in exchange for modest housework and general upkeep of the inn. He was kind to me, despite his terrible first impression, and I grew to like the oaf as time went on.
The kingdom of Xhanu turned out to be more like Myleria than I had expected, and I grew accustomed to it quickly, though I do admit the transition from Bal'rok was a tough one. I often craved the free and rambunctious atmosphere of the south, the outdoors, the fire pits, the hunting trips, the Kalimahs.
And most of all, I missed Borus.
Still, after a few months I began to settle into a normal life, though I couldn't ignore the condescending attitude of the citizens towards me. At first I thought everyone was just rude in Xhanu, but I quickly realized that it was because of my brown, painfully boring hair. I was what they called a 'Fengoin', a word meaning "useless" in the old tongue of the Eastern Kingdoms; a leech on society and a failure.
"If you grow tired of your status as a Fengoin, perhaps it is time you had your Teishu ritual, eh Agatha?" Raikka said to her one night after she had been publicly scolded by a woman with purple hair for bringing her the wrong kind of wine.
Agatha gave a half-hearted scoff. "I don't need ta prove myself to no one," she said, vigorously polishing a mug. "'Sides, I wouldn't know what skill I'd be good enough at for the dumb ritual."
"I've seen you out in the back with that saber of yours, hacking away at the trees. If swordsmanship interests you, why not make that your true calling? I dare say I'd love to see that."
Agatha averted her eyes. She'd hoped that nobody was watching when she took the saber back to practice with it.
It was true, the art of fighting had consumed my thoughts ever since the night Bal'rok was taken. The experience had made me realize that life was short and could be taken so very easily. If a blade in my hand could spare me the fate of Borus and the men of his city, then I wanted to learn how to use it.
"Fightin's the type of thing I can't much teach myself," she told Raikka.
"There's no shortage of masters of the sword in Xhanu, my dear. In fact, there are rumors going about that Prince Myka himself trains with his master at a temple very nearby this town, somewhere in the jungle," said Raikka.
Now he had Agatha's attention. Prince Myka was the son of the emperor of Xhanu and an infamous swordsman and rogue. He was said to travel from town to town challenging the toughest fighters he could find, besting them all with ease. His fiery red hair and ruby encrusted blade were his defining characteristics, earning him the nickname of the Crimson Sun.
Agatha swore to herself she would meet him one day, but she had no notion of how to do that until now.
"Prince Myka? You mean he's been trainin' near this town this whole time?" Agatha asked, sounding more excited then she meant to let on. "Do ya know where this temple is?"
"I'm afraid I don't know exactly," Raikka answered. "If the prince's training grounds were common knowledge, the boy would have an audience every single day. Wherever it is, I'm sure it's well hidden."
And well-hidden it was, but Agatha knew not to look for the place, but rather the person. If the prince himself were training near their town, he would surely have to come there every once in a while if only for a bite to eat or a piece of spare equipment.
It took Agatha only two weeks to spot the prince in the town market. At first she was fixated on the red hair that he was so famous for, but she quickly realized that he would most likely hide his most recognizable feature if he wanted to go unseen.
So, she looked for those whose heads were covered instead. Hats were extremely uncommon in Xhanu as one's hair was a point of pride, showcasing their personality. When Agatha caught sight of a man with a straw hat and bandana that completely covered his hair, she knew something was strange. He had a sword on his left hip, which wasn't a glaring oddity, but this man kept a gloved hand covering the pommel, being very careful to keep it out of sight.
Agatha followed him all the way to the outskirts of town where he mounted a pure-bred white stallion. For an instant as he climbed onto the horse, the hilt of his sword was revealed, and the red rubies caught the light perfectly. Even from afar, Agatha could tell that was no ordinary weapon and no ordinary horse. Only the wealthiest of men could afford gems that size, she was certain. This man was the Crimson Sun.
It wasn't difficult to track the prince through the jungle, at least not for Agatha. She left her own mare back at the inn for the sake of discretion, and after a few hours of stepping over vines and hacking through thick brush, she came upon the temple.
It wasn't a large structure, but it was surely old and important. Vines ran up its stone perimeter and decorated its stepped entrance like a green spider web. There was a clearing in the trees just before the large steel door where statues shaped like soldiers of old were carved in stone, guarding the entrance with sinister glares.
The door was sealed tight, and when Agatha circled around the building, she only found more stone and more statues. Frustrated, Agatha waited.
It wasn't until late in the evening that the steel door slid open with a rumble and Prince Myka appeared along with a small, older man with a solemn face and a mop of silver hair tied back into a short ponytail. She could only assume that was Myka's teacher.
When they emerged from the temple, the men said their farewells to each other, completely ignoring Agatha as she stood patiently at the bottom of the steps. Prince Myka walked right past her without so much as a glance and was gone before Agatha registered how close he had been to her. The other man had disappeared into the temple and once again, Agatha was alone in the jungle.
Furious, she memorized the location of the temple and for the next few weeks, she practically lived there, and the pattern began.
Every day Prince Myka would come from the midst of the jungle to enter the temple and every day he would walk right past Agatha in silence. She tried to call out to him and his master to explain herself, but it was no use. It was as if she was an insect to the two men, not even worthy of a word of scorn for following the prince there. She was invisible.
I had the naïve notion ever since I found the temple that this would be some kind of test. All I needed to do was show patience and dedication and the master would see me for my potential and grant me entrance. That's how these things were supposed to work, in my mind. After a while I resorted to sitting by the temple and calmly awaiting some kind of acknowledgment. Every day that it didn't come I grew more and more frustrated. At some point, I realized that there was no test and I was simply a fool. These men truly did not give a flying deuce about me.
Agatha snapped one grey morning as Prince Myka passed her by once again on the steps to the temple. The only thing he seemed to care about was steel, so Agatha decided to give it to him. She unsheathed her saber and thrust it between him and the door, blocking his path. He paused, calm, and eyed the old, worn blade. For the first time, Agatha glimpsed the slightest semblance of emotion on his face.
"If ya won't pay any attention to my words, I'll give ya somethin' ya can't ignore," Agatha said, knowing the prince wouldn't dare back down from a direct challenge.
Before she could make another move, the Crimson Sun had drawn his own sword and knocked hers away, using the moment of confusion to kick her in the back of the calf and send her to her knees at the bottom of the steps. His blade was at her throat in a heartbeat and Agatha was trying her hardest not to show any sign that she was in pain.
She managed a smirk. "Oh, now the Prince has finally grown a pair, eh?"
"Shut up, Fengoin," Myka growled. "You've been sitting outside this temple every day for weeks now like a sad little puppy. Do you actually think my master would train a pathetic mouse like you? Go back to Anvel or wherever it is you got those rags you're wearing."
"I think your master might wanna replace his precious pupil… if a Fengoin girl like me knocks 'im on his ass," she grunted and rolled away from the prince, grabbing her saber and standing at the ready.
I knew what was going to come next, but it didn't make it any less painful. Each attack I made on Prince Myka lead to a worse and worse throttling. I took the beating each time but always picked my blade up and taunted Myka to come at me again.
The prince never failed to take the bait, laughing and throwing the taunts right back at me, and by the thirtieth time he had sent me sprawling to the ground, he finally started to take a little pity on his opponent.
"Go home, Fengoin. I have no wish to kill you," Myka said, turning his back on a bloody and bruised Agatha as she attempted to find her saber buried somewhere in the grass.
Agatha spat. "Always knew ya'd be soft. The Crimson Sun of Xhanu. If ya ask me, if a man needs a stupid nickname to sound scary, he ain't worth the title." She found her weapon and stood, her legs so bruised and beaten she could barely stand. She didn't even notice that the master had been standing on the top of the steps, watching. How long he had been there, she could only guess.
"Prince Myka," he stated, his voice soft and subtly commanding. "You dishonor yourself, and you dishonor me when you turn your blade on an opponent so much weaker than you. The girl is badly hurt."
"She attacked me, Master Rei," the prince retorted. "And why should I care about the wellbeing of an insolent Fengoin like her?"
"You are royalty, Myka. Never forget that your actions reflect all of Xhanu. And a Fengoin is only so within the borders of our nation."
The silver-haired man slowly walked down the steps, his white robe dragging behind him. He was older, but looked like he had been fiercely strong in his prime, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw. The very air around him rang with command and Agatha found herself already scrambling for his approval.
To Agatha he said, "I do find myself curious about a brown-haired girl, clearly northern, dressed as a southerner, attacking my student in the jungle very far away from her home. I admit, I thought you would give up after a few days of waiting outside my temple, yet here you stand. I would ask why you wish for me to train you, but that is clear enough to me. What interests me is how you came to be here in the first place."
Agatha was still in shock that he was addressing her, but she did her best to compose herself, lowering the saber to her side and standing upright before she spoke. "I followed the prince from town…"
"That is not what I mean," the master stated. "Where were you born?"
"Myleria, milord." The word slipped out from old habit and Agatha felt like kicking herself in the head for saying it.
"I am no lord, girl, and neither am I from Myleria. Tell me how a commoner from the north ended up here in Xhanu. You left your home of your own volition?" He spoke as if he already knew the answer, and Agatha had a suspicion that he did.
"No… I was… banished," said Agatha, knowing a lie would not go unnoticed.
"I see. Thievery? Murder? Treason? How does a young girl go about getting banished from a kingdom like Myleria?" Master Rei asked.
Myka was scowling at Agatha from behind his master, his bright red hair falling over his eyes and giving him a sinister look.
"Ya wouldn't believe me if I told ya…"
"I think you should try a man before you judge his beliefs."
"Fine," Agatha said, preparing to be laughed at. "I saw the Queen – Queen Alissa – shapeshift into a fox when I was little. When she found out I'd seen her, she had the King boot me from the kingdom, simple as that."
To her surprise, Master Rei did not laugh. Instead, he exchanged a glance with the young prince and then gave Agatha a pondering stare. Myka folded his arms, never dropping his gaze.
"So, a magic-wielding queen and a girl who found herself at the wrong place at the wrong time," the master said. "I could call it coincidence that a girl like that found her way to my temple. I could send you away and go about my business, train Myka like this was any other day. Yet somehow I fear it would not sit right with me, and the thought of you would keep me up at night for many months to come. It is not every day someone like you is sent to me by the gods. What is your name, my friend?"
"Agatha. Agatha Paddick."
The master took me into the temple after that, and I began to train with him and the Crimson Sun.
The prince was not happy about it at first, and he was very vocal about it. Every day it was 'Fengoin this' and 'Fengoin that'. He thought himself so much above me, and for a long time, he was. We often sparred and without fail I would end up on the painful side of his ruby sword; but each blow was a lesson, and I did get better, day by day.
I practiced constantly in my time with Master Rei. I was afforded more time than Prince Myka ever had. He was, after all, the royal prince of the entire kingdom. All of his time could not be spent on the sword. Mine, however, was consumed by it.
Master Rei was a ruthless teacher, but he was fair. He always told me my energy and passion were there, but my form was not. I always attacked with my heart and never my head.
"You fight like an Anvel Warrior, Agatha," Master Rei told her. "There is character there, but it will win you no battles. A Xhanu swordsman is cunning as well as strong."
"Well maybe I am an Anvel Warrior, Master," she retorted. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that."
That had earned her a blow to the back of the head. "Think about your words Agatha Sharptongue. You will learn to speak properly. No pupil of mine will carry with them the vile accent of a Mylerian commoner."
Six months, nine days, and fifteen hours it took for Agatha to beat Prince Myka in single combat. It had been a morning like any other, but Agatha was feeling particularly strong, like the very earth itself was nourishing her with its energy.
Agatha and Myka squared off like usual in the sparring room of the temple, a long, empty chamber with wooden floors and high ceilings. The walls were lined with open square windows in the stone that looked out over the entrance clearing. It was fall and the leaves were turning orange and red, and the sun was setting to cast a brilliant cascade of color into the room.
When Master Rei motioned to begin, Agatha let the Prince attack first, an unusual strategy for her. She blocked his initial set of blows with ease, parrying with as if it were a training exercise. She stepped back and exhaled with each block, letting Myka get comfortable on the offense.
As soon as she saw an opening, she pivoted and thrust at Myka's leg, forcing him to sidestep, and then came at him with a few well-placed slashes to his body. He managed to fend her off, but Agatha could tell that Myka was surprised at how well she planned the move. She was actually thinking for once.
They circled each other for a moment and then were at it again, both attacking and defending at the same time. The prince was shorter than Agatha by a few inches and had much broader shoulders. Agatha used that to her advantage, staying high and forcing him to stay front-facing instead of the safer sideways stance that their master emphasized.
Myka found himself on the defensive, having to block more than attack, and once she realized she was actually winning, some kind of spark ignited in Agatha that sent her into a frenzy. She hacked away, still keeping her strategy in mind but summoning the strength of the Anvel Warrior inside her to beat down at Myka.
She thought of Borus, pictured his murderer on Myka's shoulders, and let all the rage that had been building in her since she had first left home come pouring out through her weapon.
One final backhanded swing sent Myka reeling back and Agatha lunged for his wrist, batting his sword away. Then she lowered her shoulder and rammed him full on in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
The victor placed her sword at the loser's neck, panting and sweating and relishing the look of pure shock upon the prince's face, his drenched red hair sticking to his forehead. Then she offered him a hand.
When he was back on his feet, Myka grabbed his sword wordlessly and left the chamber.
Agatha turned to Master Rei sitting by the wall, wondering if that had actually happened or if this was all just a dream. "Agatha," her master said, his voice calm as stillwater. "You have come a long way since you first came here. Go now to the basement and bathe in the waters that await you there."
Agatha didn't quite understand the command, but she didn't question her master. Rei stood without another word and left her alone in the twilight-filled room. When Agatha followed his instructions, she came upon a room in the basement she had never seen before.
It was a small chamber illuminated only by torchlight, revealing strange foreign markings lining the dusty stone walls. There was a basin carved into the floor with steaming hot water already filling it to the brim. Agatha was immediately drawn to the water, stripping down and lowering herself into its liquid embrace.
She let the warmth engulf her, sending a shiver of delight to every nerve in her body. For a moment she felt as if she was in a dream, floating in an endless oblivion where all the hatred and grief she ever felt were torn away and thrust into the void. For a time, the world melted away for Agatha, and when she emerged she felt completely reborn.
Agatha wasn't sure how long she spent in the bath. It could have been hours or it could have been only minutes, there was no way to be sure. When she finally climbed out, her body was free of all its bumps and bruises. Her limbs felt strong and her head clear. With a renewed sense of purpose, she dried, dressed, and sought her master.
He was meditating in his quarters when she found him, cross-legged, eyes closed. When he heard Agatha enter, he opened one eye and broke into a humongous smile.
"I had a feeling," he said. When Agatha looked confused, he stood and guided her to a large mirror.
Agatha gasped when she saw herself. Her hair was no longer its normal mousy-brow to be sure. In fact, to say it was blonde or yellow would not do it justice; it was golden, almost glowing in the faint light from the Master's chamber, somehow making Agatha's entire person brighter.
She brought her hands to her head slowly, almost afraid to touch it. Its texture seemed different somehow too, less curly and more wavy, falling all the way past her shoulders to her belly. A thought crossed Agatha's mind as she stared into her own eyes that had never once been there her entire life. I look beautiful.
"But Master… I ain't – I mean, I haven't gone through the ritual," she said. Even her voice sounded different, she realized. Rei had been adamant about improving Agatha's speech and she had slowly begun to comply, even subconsciously, annunciating more carefully and cutting out the use of her old Mylerian slang.
Master Rei grunted. "The ritual is a farce, Agatha. Made up by the wealthy of Xhanu to ensure there would always be a working class beneath them. You proved your skill to your master today when you bested one of the most skilled swordsmen in the kingdom. That is enough for the blessing of Teishu in my eyes."
Agatha didn't know what to say, so she continued to stare.
"Has anyone ever told you just who Teishu actually was?" the Master asked.
"A Goddess, from what I understood."
The master shook his head. "Teishu was a woman of flesh and blood, the Empress of Xhanu thousands of years ago. She was what some might call a psychic or a prophet, able to look upon the soul of a person and tell their destiny, their essence… even their future. She shaped the way we view our society and she was the one that blessed the waters that you have just emerged from, water that we use for the Teishu ritual even today."
A Highborn, Agatha thought.
"It is said that Teishu had golden hair herself," Rei continued, fingering a strand of Agatha's hair. "It seems you are chosen to be as important as she was." He chuckled. "Though I do admit, some things really are coincidence."
Agatha shook her head, suddenly frustrated. "Master, magic has affected me my entire life, magic from some king or queen, alive or dead. I just don't understand why. Where does it come from? Why are some chosen for it, and why are they always royalty? Is it just… random!? Something that always has been and always will be?"
Rei's face grew serious. "I'm afraid I don't know all the answers, young one. But I do believe you will find them. Magic has been a part of human history for a long time, though we have a strange way of acknowledging it. Those who wield it tend to hide it, for fear of prosecution – and those who know of it tend to explain it away or shun it, unable to accept something that they cannot comprehend, and more importantly, unable to accept that they cannot use it. As a result, magic finds its way into myth and legend instead of history, and it eventually fades away from the memory of those that witness it. As for where it all began, I do not know, I only have my theories."
"What theories, Master? I have to find the answers, you said so yourself. If you think you know anything about the Highborn, I need to hear it."
"'Highborn,' yes, a fitting word. The royalty of almost every kingdom in history has some magic bloodline buried somewhere in its past. I have known about it for many years and I admit, it has puzzled me much like it has puzzled you. What I was able to discover was this; magic in humans dates back to one very important event – the disappearance of the spirit of the Earth, Veles."
"Veles was real?" Agatha asked, baffled. The story of the Earth spirit was well known, even in Myleria. Veles was born with the world itself, there to protect every living creature that would come into existence. It was not a god so much as it was a magic entity that lived through all of Earth's organisms, though it could take on its own unique physical form when it wanted to.
"Quite so, Agatha. You should not be surprised. Veles was known to be sighted quite often, actually, in the Eastern and Southern kingdoms of old. A curious spirit who was so enraptured by humans that he sometimes even interacted with them in the ethereal form of some animal or creature. But he vanished very suddenly, into what we now call the Veles Desert and was never spotted again. It was said that a young prince from the North went looking for him thousands of years ago and never returned."
"And you believe that has somethin'…I mean something to do with the Highborn?"
Master Rei nodded. "Listen well Agatha. You must go seek Veles, and you must document your knowledge of what you call the Highborn. I believe you can reveal to the world the secret of magic itself. But you must be devoted, and you must be brave. It will not be an easy journey."
Master Rei had never spoken truer words.
That was the beginning of the first drafts of the very book you are reading. I left Xhanu shortly afterwards, equipped with a sword from the Master himself and a saddlebag filled to the brim with parchment and ink.
As for Myka, he came around before my departure, admitting that I had fought well. I remember him even making a comment about my hair and blushing like a schoolboy; I couldn't help but laugh in his face. Even so, he gave me his white stallion as a token of good will and safe journey, and the steed was my companion for many, many years to come. His name was Gambit and he was by far the greatest mount I ever owned.
Making it to the Veles Desert proved not to be the difficult part. I was well supplied when I headed northwest from Xhanu and when I came upon the sandy abyss that lay just north of Anvel, my previous home, I felt almost more prepared than I should have.
The Veles Desert was thousands of leagues wide and was known to be a deadly place. If the heat and dehydration didn't kill you, the poisons of the scorpions and venomous snakes surely would.
Agatha left Gambit in the closest town and stocked up on all the food and water she could carry before setting out on foot. The woman had no plans to die out there in the desert – if Veles did not reveal himself to her and she grew low on supplies, she would come back the way she had come to restock for another journey.
However even Agatha underestimated the vastness of the desert and she was far too bold, venturing deeper and deeper, spending days walking until she realized she had reached the point of no return. There had been nothing out in the desert but sand and more sand, not even a plant to siphon water from or a boulder for shade.
On the seventh day within the desert, Agatha decided to head back the way she came, but it had been too long and she had lost her sense of direction. The eighth day was hot and the sun beat down on her relentlessly, eventually pushing her into the sweet relief of unconsciousness.
Agatha was certain she was going to die there that day, but as the thought passed through her fading mind, so did something else. A cold presence loomed over her and she could feel herself being taken away.
She awoke on a ghostly platform staring into an endless void of darkness. A dream, surely, she thought, but then why did she feel so awake and so strong? Was this the afterlife?
Then a light came rushing to her from the void. "You humans are so fascinating," it cooed.
Before Agatha could ask who was there, a white wisp appeared in front of her. It was amorphous at first but it slowly took shape, growing paws, a tail, and a head until eventually an ethereal cat was standing on the platform with her.
"I cannot remember the last time I was actually conscious like this. Such a strange feeling. So very fascinating." The cat began to circle her, its eyes green and glowing. Its voice was high and shrill and ghostly, yet somehow it still had the bubbly quality of a delighted little girl. Agatha could hear it loud and clear, though the cat's mouth never moved.
"Who are you?" asked Agatha.
"Oh, come now Agatha Paddick. Why do humans ask questions they already know the answer to? It is so very silly and so very fascinating," the cat giggled.
"Veles," she said in disbelief. "You actually came to me."
The cat faded into nothing and from the darkness a white snake slithered in front of Agatha, staring at her with the same green eyes. "Hummmm, yes, I suppose in a way I came, and in another way, I was always there. I couldn't just ignore a human killing herself to find me in the desert, alone. That was so stupid and so fassssssscinating."
"Always there? What do you mean?"
"I am with all humans, Agatha Paddick. Ever since the pact," Veles said as it morphed again into a humming bird. "But I've watched your life in particular for quite some time. It has been very enjoyable, Agatha Paddick, very enjoyable."
"Pact? Veles, please, tell me your story. Are you responsible for the magic-wielders? Are you… a god?"
"Oh! So formal! You humans are so fascinating, treating all magic like the work of gods. I am no god, Agatha Paddick, but I am flattered you would think so." Veles fluttered around Agatha's head before landing again and sprouting into the form of a monkey. "Very well! I see no harm in sharing my story with one measly human life. You humans never seem to listen to each other anyway. Let me start at the beginning."
"Before, I was a lonely spirit, watching over my lovely children and keeping them safe. I loved my children, I loved them so, but they bored me, Agatha Paddick, they bored me half to death. When humans appeared on Earth, I could see they were different. They were anything but boring, and they quickly became my favorite children. They were so fascinating, so enjoyable, I could not get enough of them. I watched them whenever I could. I watched them build their cities and make their rules and kill one another, oh, it was such fun, so much more enjoyable than my other children!" Veles bounced up and down on his monkey tail.
"The humans came to know me – 'Veles' they called me, and they searched for me all the time. I had so many other children to watch over so I tried my best to leave the humans be, but I could not seem to stay away, they were just too much fun. Eventually a young prince – Prince Hammet – came to the desert in search of me. I easily evaded him, but my curiosity got the better of me. I let Prince Hammet find me, pretended to be cornered and trapped, and I heard what he had to say. 'Make me immortal,' he demanded of me. 'I want to live forever.'" Veles laughed. "He actually believed he had captured me, Agatha Paddick!"
The monkey suddenly jumped into the air and disintegrated into the shape of a butterfly which fluttered onto Agatha's arm. It felt cold to the touch.
"I told the prince I could give him what he wanted but I wanted something in return. I wanted to become one with the humans, now and forever, to form an unbreakable link with them, make them mine. He accepted without hesitation, something that I found fascinating, and the pact was made – I took Prince Hammet's soul and melded it to my own, joining my spirit with that of the humans where I have been ever since, experiencing all that you experience, living millions of human lives at once, each more fascinating than the last. It has been so very enjoyable, Agatha Paddick."
"And… what became of Hammet?" Agatha asked.
"Hmm, he joined the ranks of human souls living through me for eternity, just like he wanted," Veles giggled, a haunting sound.
"You… killed him…"
"So melodramatic," Veles said as the butterfly on Agatha's arm shifted to a lizard. "One human soul becoming one with a spirit and bonding us forever is nothing like death, Agatha Paddick. You are so fascinating!"
But Agatha did not see the difference. She was sure that Prince Hammet would say he was not given his part of the deal if he could be asked, although she knew better than to argue the point.
"And the magic that has manifested in our rulers, that's a result of your joining with us?"
"Yes, indeed, that was something I had not foreseen, I admit. But magic is a powerful force, Agatha Paddick, and it demands a place in the world. Without my physical presence, it was bound to show up somewhere, and the humans were the obvious outlet. I was delighted when the first magic wielding human was born, it was so very fascinating! I considered it my gift to you, and watching what you've done with my gift has been so, so enjoyable…"
"But why does it only appear in rulers? Shouldn't any human have the right to your gift?"
"I don't think there is one answer to that question, Agatha Paddick. I choose its wielder, the humans choose its wielder, and the magic chooses its own wielder as well, all at once. The fact that only your royalty has been blessed with it is as much your choice as it is mine!"
"So you're saying humans have a choice in the matter?"
"In a way, Agatha Paddick. The humans and I are one, after all, though the collective conscience of the humans is not something that can be swayed through any one source. For as long as humans have had my magic in them, it has belonged to royalty."
The lizard crawled down from Agatha and grew gradually into a fox. Agatha blinked as memories flooded her mind. A white fox, with glowing green eyes…
"But it is for the better, don't you agree?" said the fox, licking its paws. "Those already in power will use magic in such fascinating ways, ways that cause little harm. Imagine if a human with absolutely nothing were born with that kind of power. I know the humans. They would use it to kill and manipulate, and they would climb to power with blood on their hands. Either way, the magic ends up belonging to a ruler."
Agatha pondered on that for a moment. Veles had a point, but somehow it still didn't sit right with her.
"I suppose… But if I might ask, is there any… pattern? Any direction that your magic takes, or any reason for its forms?" asked Agatha.
The fox looked at her, sat back on its haunches, and changed. Suddenly it was a human standing before Agatha with a face she could never mistake – Queen Alissa's face.
"Magic is like water, Agatha Paddick," Alissa said, stepping towards her with a twinkle in her green eyes. "It flows through humans and their lifespans, passing from one to another when its wielder dies. As for the form it takes, that's the most fascinating part… even I never know what my magic will do to a human. It depends on the human's heart."
Alissa smiled and looked down for a second. When her eyes met Agatha's again, they were changed, and the figure before her stood tall and masculine. For an instant she thought Borus was standing there, but after a moment she realized it must be the form of Ramsay the Earthquake.
"Any number of powers may come to them, more than you could ever imagine. Magic is malleable, Agatha Paddick, like water, it does not keep a constant shape. It is separate from the human but also a part of them and it will bend to their will."
"I think I understand, but… Veles, us humans have been lucky so far. All the Highborn have either been content with what they have or they haven't had the power needed to seize more. Have you ever thought about what would happen if… if one of the Highborn is evil?"
Veles changed again, this time into a woman Agatha didn't recognize, with long black hair and a slender nose. She wore a shimmering tiara on her head and a black and red dress. "That's the thing about humans that I find so enjoyable, Agatha Paddick. No human is truly evil. They are such complex creatures, such fascinating creatures. That is why I wanted to be one with them. If my magic ever became something to fear, well then… I believe that would be fun to watch, Agatha Paddick, don't you?"
Agatha couldn't believe what she was hearing. Veles was much more selfish than she originally thought, seeing this as nothing more than a game for its own amusement. It took all of Agatha's willpower to hold her tongue. She wasn't going to risk angering the spirit that had saved her, and she still had questions besides.
"So when one Highborn dies, another is born…" she pondered aloud. "That means when Queen Alissa is dead, the next magic wielder will appear in some other kingdom. And if it flows like water, then two Highborn will never be alive at the same time, right?"
The woman morphed again, her face turning from beautiful to ferocious in a second. Now Veles was a man with heavy scars lining his face, thick black hair, and golden piercing eyes. He looked at Agatha for a moment, almost appearing surprised. "I had never considered it, Agatha Paddick. And wouldn't that be fascinating, to have two or even three humans alive at once with my magic in their veins? Like drops of water, the magic would be attracted to itself, and if they ever touched, they would fuse and become one. Oh how enjoyable that would be to watch."
The scarred man began to pace on the platform. Agatha looked at him uneasily as a chill ran down her spine. She wasn't sure if she understood entirely, but she knew that she didn't like the implications of what he was saying. Multiple Highborn could only mean bad news, especially if one could absorb the power of another like Veles was suggesting.
When he stopped and looked back at her, Veles changed one last time, again into a beautiful young woman. This time her hair was platinum blonde, styled into a single braid that hung over her left shoulder. She wore a shimmering dress, almost as blue as her large gorgeous eyes, with a flowing cape that sparkled behind her as she walked closer on light blue heels. Agatha thought she could see tiny snowflakes dusting the woman's hair.
"Don't look at me like that, Agatha Paddick. You have nothing to worry about. My magic has always been a river, solid and flowing, and it will remain that way as long as I will it to. Of course, I was just thinking about what would happen if the river split off into separate streams. Multiple bloodlines would receive my magic at the same time, perhaps halfway across the world from one another. What would the humans do then, I wonder?"
"Nothing good would come of it, I know that much…" answered Agatha.
"Good, no, nothing good, perhaps you're right, Agatha Paddick." The blonde woman looked thoughtful for a moment and then gave Agatha a wicked grin. "But it would be so terribly fascinating, wouldn't it?"