“Our lives are the sum of our memories.
Joshua Foer
“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory”
Dr. Seuss
Memory and Memories - Part 1
by Armond
“Our lives are the sum of our memories.
Joshua Foer
“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory”
Dr. Seuss
Prologue
3rd day of the month of Rycdos, god of the harvest
1.
"If I made a sacrifice to Utos, ya think she'd go out with me then?"
Aesh flashed his hallmark 'prune face grimace' to his classmate. Anyone who knew the alquimista apprentice also knew exactly what it meant.
"As always, Pac, you think of everything in study hall... except studying."
'He could sacrifice all the pigs in Ogda to the god of fortune for all the good it would do him,' Aesh added mentally. 'The gods - if they exist at all - don't care one whit for humans.'
"And what will you sacrifice to him? Your virginity?" Aesh asked. "No, wait! You can't do that, ‘cause you're hoping to sacrifice that to sweet Lala Biddle."
"Shhhhhh! Don't say that out loud," a mortified Pac said, as he looked around the study hall nervously. “I'll catch so much hell if anyone finds out I'm a virgin."
"I won't bullshit you, my man, sex is fantastic, mind blowing, amazing..."
'Hmm, maybe I'm overdoing this a bit,' Aesh thought, as he saw Pac's mouth drop open. 'He's actually drooling!'
"...but it's not worth devoting your every wanking thought!" Aesh added.
Though Pac was his senior by half a dozen years, it often seemed to Aesh his twenty-six year old friend had the maturity of a toddler.
"...spare a thought to the Transmuting and Distilling text, and you might actually pass the exam tomorrow."
"You have the luxury to say that, since you aced it a year ago! You made the highest exam score on it...ever!" Pac wailed. “Everything comes easy to you! It's not fair!”
He'd always been jealous of Aesh; the young man seemed destined for glory. Pac wanted to hate him, but he couldn't, for Aesh was a genuinely good soul and a loyal friend, albeit one with a spicy tongue. Pac thought about storming away in a huff - as he often did - but then he considered the easy way Aesh had with the fairer sex. He hatched another plan.
"I know! Come with me tonight! You can hide close and whisper the sweet words to get me..."
"...into Lala's panties?" Aesh finished his thought.
"Well, yeah."
"Not a winning strategy," Aesh said, stopping himself from adding if he did that, Lala would more likely end up in Aesh's bed.
"You want to know the real secret to success with the fairer sex?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Pac exclaimed, clapping his hands. Finally 'Aesh the Impious' was going to share his magic words. "Please, oh please, oh please!"
"Gods! You are such a whale's anus sometimes. Show some self-respect, man," Aesh said. "Fine, listen up."
Pac literally fell to his knees before Aesh.
"One, be genuine. Be yourself. Can't stress this enough. Two, listen, listen, listen. Truly hear the woman, and be interested in what she has to say. Three, present yourself well. Look and dress sharp, and let her know you are a man with a plan for the future. For instance, to be able tell her something like 'I'm going to ace the Transmuting and Distilling exam tomorrow,' would be handy. Hence the need to study."
Pac's shoulders slumped when he realized no magic words were being passed to him.
"Pleeeeease come with me tonight," Pac begged.
"Can't, my friend, I have a prior engagement," Ashe said, with a wink.
Pac's jaw dropped as he imagined his friend's engagement, ending, -he was certain- in wild and epic debauchery.
'Would there be two women? Or three?'
***
In fact, Aesh's prior engagement had nothing to do with sex, but was instead a stealth 'breaking and entering' mission, into a professor's dorm quarters.
"Professor Breviar of Guilon."
Aesh read the name plate beside the door to the quarters. He added in a low whisper, "Edefia's most notorious professor."
He slipped the lock pick in, wiggled it about just so, pulled it out, and gave a satisfied 'heh' when the doorknob snicked open at his turn.
Looking first to his right and left down the dorm hallway, Aesh stepped in and locked the door behind him.
Breviar's quarters were just as Aesh had left them from his last ‘mission’, dusty and musty. Wasting no time, the young man stood straight to the professor's study and bookshelves.
During his last clandestine visits, he'd browsed the Handbook Of Sirin (boring and tedious), Fundamental Stories Of Arcane Holidays (interesting, but useless) and Unknown Transmutations (scary and fascinating). It was this third tome he wished to dig into more. He pulled it from Breviar's bookshelf, settled the manuscript on Breviar's dark oaken study desk, lit a single candle, and dove in.
An hour later and a third of the way through, Aesh discovered a loose note page hiding between two pages. With a quick read, the young alquimista confirmed it was written by Breviar's hand. The characters were neat and small, flowing down the front and back of the page.
'Maybe he was taking notes and accidentally left it here.'
Aesh was troubled by that thought; the chapter in which it was hidden dealt with the power of impure transmutations, an evil subject, to Aesh's mind.
He scanned the first few paragraphs. Blinked. Rubbed his eyes and read again. Slower this time.
"No! Is this a joke?"
The words Breviar had written were so wrong, so antithetical to the core alquimista philosophies, that Aesh wondered if it was a weird sort of code, the kind one needed to hold up to a mirror to get its reverse meaning.
As he moved to the next section, where the professor proposed a procedure to accomplish his theory, Aesh's face flushed hot in rage, and he let loose a blazing strings of curses, with the only non-expletive words in it being 'sphincter,' and 'diarrhea.' For he'd uncovered a monstrous plot.
"The Masters must see this at once!"
***
"...to the inescapable conclusion his serum could render all organic matter inert."
Aesh was well past his ‘mea culpa’ for breaking into the professor's quarters. And, while the masters he stood in front of weren't thrilled to learn of his skulking about, that was quickly forgotten when he began describing Professor Breviar's experiments.
"...Also, if my calculations are correct, even tiny serum amounts if exposed to air - or gods forbid - to fire, may have a devastating impact. If the professor used this reverse chrysopoeia process - he called it anti-alkahest, or anti life - in any significant quantities, the extermination range is ...unimaginable."
The meeting chamber, so often filled with Edefia students clamoring to learn, was pin drop silent. The masters had passed around the notes Aesh found, each turning pale as he digested their meaning.
They didn't doubt Aesh's conclusions either; for the young man was a prodigy; he almost solved the Alquimista Puzzle with his last attempt, and they fully expected he would on his third try and graduate a master. This would be unprecedented. No one in their history had ever solved their famed puzzle box in less than seven attempts.
"We must find him and discretely bring him back," Headmaster Dolan said, breaking the silence.
"What?! No!" Aesh exclaimed. "We must warn the leaders of the Seven Kingdoms about this and-"
"-That is exactly what we will not do!" Master Dolan, hissed, cutting him off.
"Such would destroy our reputation! Worse, the rulers might even seek to disband our schools! Brand us as terrorists. The Alarians would love nothing more. No, this must be handled with the utmost delicacy. Tell no one! We will form teams and fan out into the Seven Kingdoms, seeking this rogue and dragging him to the university."
"Seriously?! That's absurd! And what if he doesn't want to come back? What will we do when-"
"-Silence, Aesh. We are indebted to you for discovery, but you will do as I have said. You will team with Master Bexon. Pack and begin your search for Professor Breviar at once."
"The hells with our reputation," Aesh muttered, "Breviar poses a threat to life itself."
...to be honest, Aesh muttered other words, but those blistering adjectives and nouns were all unprintable.
2.
The Qyrc Wilds, at the southern edge of the area henceforth to be known as 'The Dead Zone.'
"You... you've returned"
"You seem disappointed."
The man swung his legs off his mount. Once on the ground, he knocked the dust from his tunic. He walked, stumbling slightly, to the one seated on a tree stump next to a canvass tent.
His employer. The man known as Blood Burn.
"On the contrary. Another data point," Blood Burn said. "Did you happen to find any others there? A fella named Ballista, or another called Tusk?"
"I saw nothing. Neither bird, nor beast nor plant. Miles and miles of silence and desolation. It is a place of death."
"There is purity in what you witnessed. A perfection. You are a lucky man, Tyran. Do you need water? You look unwell."
"What I need are the hundred pieces of gold you... you..."
Suddenly, Tyran's eyes rolled back into his head, showing only whites now. He lurched forward in a stagger, his arms flailed once, and he fell face first into the dust with a thumpf.
A high pitched keening sound emanated from his body, like the flapping of a thousand locust wings. Then, his skin, organs and blood fell away from his bones, dried and granular, like sand. A sharp wind blew from the south, sending his dust back into the dead area.
Blood Burn looked over at Tyran's mare; she showed no signs of weakness.
He pulled a writing charcoal and manuscript from a nearby pack, flipped open to a blank page, and wrote:
'At seven weeks, the serum dissipates at edge of zone. Suspect serum remains active at epicenter.'
"All this from one drop! If I could produce a cup of the serum, and activate it through ignition, then the zone of impact would be..."
Blood Burn did the calculations in his head; he smiled when he came to the conclusion.
"...everywhere in the Seven Kingdoms!"
But it had taken every pence and penny of his savings to fund the production of this tiny amount.
He wanted - no, needed - to make more. So much more. He wanted to make the world perfect.
"I need a benefactor."
He knew where to get one, too.
'Glesea.'
After he fled the university those months ago, he followed a different career to raise money. He hired his services out to the highest bidder. Those services earned him his new name, too, for he crafted the deadliest of diseases and poisons. He learned during those months just where those shadowy bidders could be found.
'For it is said, you can buy or sell anything imaginable at the Glesea docklands, for a price.'
3.
Shea wrapped her midnight hair into a bun and pinned it up. Glesea was leagues and leagues away from Imis, across the Serene Sea, and Shea learned long ago with her mother that comfort trumped fashion when traveling.
Or at least she thought she had. It was hard to tell now with so many memories gone.
She turned and faced her flat's floor-length mirror. The reflection staring back showed a nondescript traveler, grayish cloak and hood, and worn leather boots.
The mirror successfully hid the Alarian 'elf woman' underneath the disguise.
"Good. No, adequate," she spoke aloud, then quickly amended. Her Caxenar training forbade overconfidence.
"Glad ta meet ya," Shea said to her mirrored reflection, "The name's Shyilia, from Crioca. Blade fer hire if'n ya have any messy jobs what needs fixin."
"Hmmm. I'll need to work on that," she assessed critically.
There was no disguising her excitement. Her aunt told her the Arch Duchess herself had requested Shea for this mission. di'Sona was confident Shea was up to the task - tracking the human known as Blood Burn, who was suspected of creating an unimaginably powerful weapon, if intel from the Qyrc Wilds was correct. He was sighted in Glesea only days ago.
This was what she'd trained for. Sacrificed for. To do something important. Something that made a difference.
"Something Mother wouldn't understand. Speaking of… one last memory."
Shea knelt to the floor, fumbled around a bit, found the plank she sought, and pressed it in the secret pressure points that popped open the hidden floor space. Reaching in, she pulled out the silver necklace chain which held her memory crystal. It pulsed and swirled with warm hues.
Shea's hand itched to grab it and press it to her temple, to pull the memories it held back into her mind.
Her most precious life memories.
Of her mother.
She stopped.
"After the mission. Then I will. And I will find her. And we will talk. After."
The centuries-old Caxenar Cleansing ritual was a pillar of her training in the Shadow Arts. It's purpose, simple but brutally effective was, that a spy should have no emotional ties to compromise her.
A simple thing, to think of a memory and touch the crystal to the forehead, yet it was by far the hardest part of a spy's training. Most failed this test.
Not Shea.
She'd followed the ritual explicitly - she remembered her strongest, most poignant ones, pressing the crystal's tip to her forehead to remove each one. Shea graduated at the top of her class. She hadn't emptied herself of all her memories of her mother; that would be foolish, leaving her weak and stupid. No, the young Alarian had methodically sifted through her mind and soul, choosing memories that defined their love.
"One more to go."
Shea had saved her memory of their last meeting. Their argument, their parting.
It motivated her.
But now, before this mission, it too must go.
The stone flashed briefly.
Shea lowered the glowing crystal back, hiding it once more under the plank and stood.
"I'm ready."
4.
"One madman makes many madmen: many madmen make madness."
"But Paridala, revered one, the Keoba King will pay twenty gold bars for a reading," the gypsy man said, trying so hard to keep his exasperation hidden. Turning down the largest fee they had ever been offered -that any gypsy clan had, he suspected- by babbling a cryptic quote was not helping his efforts.
"Twenty! This Millcrest trip can surely wait until after?"
'Santini is a devoted grandson and skilled leader of our clan,' Aliana thought, 'still he has much to learn; he lacks in what is truly important.'
"-Pfft. The cards, my visions and dreams are not interested in gold, young pup. We go to give a reading to one more cocksure than even you, if such is possible."
"How will I explain this ‘going to Yaran to earn handfuls of coppers’ instead of ‘Keoban gold bars’?" Santini asked, waving his arms. "How do I answer our clan's anger?"
"Their anger?!" Aliana spit on the ground. "It is nothing! Tell them we go hungry if we stop honoring the cards. The anger of man is fleeting. Fear only the wrath of the gods."
"Ah! They will understand this. We go to appease an angry god,"
Santini had lived with his grandmother long enough to know that appeasing deities always seemed to end profitably.
"Among other dire portents I have seen, yes. A vengeful goddess. She is cosmically pissed."
Chapter 1
1.
4 weeks later - the 2nd day of the month of Jeuna, goddess of penance.
"I bear news, Empress."
The wizard bowed low and tried not to shake; he feared this would not end well.
She rose from her throne, her eyes growing black.
"It failed."
"You know?"
"No, but you reek of fear," the woman answered, shaking her head. "And what could make a wizard as mighty as Palenor quiver like a rabbit before the wolf? Why, having to report failure to his Empress. Speak."
"The spy we captured in Glesea a fortnight ago, died before infecting the people of Imis."
"Died? Sheala Faeyra died???" The sorceress' voice was a high screech. "I was assured she be unharmed! This. Was. Not. Supposed. To. Happen!"
The woman's eyes blazed red. She raised her right hand, and with a single spoken word, fire poured from it, engulfing Palenor in flames. His screams echoed the hallways as he ran, trying to reach the fountain in the courtyard outside.
He didn't make it.
"Bring the Archanist to me now," she screamed to the captain of her guard.
"I'll see to it, personally."
Normally, the captain would have delegated the messenger task, but just now he was more than happy to – hopefully - be out of her death-dealing range.
"And have someone clean up that mess. It stinks of burned flesh."
Within a few minutes, a man shuffled in, bookended between two armed guards; the prisoner's feet were manacled, but the iron ankle cuffs and chain were hidden by the floor length red robe he wore. His hood was up, causing shadows to obscure his face.
"You. Blood Burn! You swore she wouldn't die from the disease."
"If you had waited to hear the rest of the report, you'd have learned she didn't. She was killed by a knife through her heart."
"She was never supposed to die!"
The woman was silent for several minutes, her face growing grimmer with each tick of the clock.
"This will bring her mother into it," the sorceress hissed.
"I thought this part of your plan folly,” Blood Burn responded. “Why bother with the release of a watered down plague when the antipodal chrysopoeia is a thousand times more potent?"
"Silence!"
The woman then motioned to her captain again, who stepped forward quickly.
"Perhaps I was hasty, my Captain, was there more to wizard Palenor's report?" She sighed when she saw how pale the man had become. "C'mon, man, find your stones!"
"Yes, Empress," the man straightened to his full imposing 6' 5" height and cleared his throat. "The spy's flat in Imis was also searched, and in a hidden space under a floorboard, a glowing crystal was found."
"Her memory stone? ...at least there is that! Bring it to me! Let none touch it, for it brings madness and death to any who does save its owner."
"Yes, Empress, this has been learned already," the captain said, "by several wizards."
"Excuse me, Empress," Blood Burn said, sensing the woman's mood had risen. "I could craft another plague for Alari."
"It takes months, yes? Now Isaura will start sniffing around, so time is not our ally. Once the other kingdoms submit, Alari will see the folly of standing alone."
The woman motioned to her captain once more. "Summon the pirate Angrove. Gather my wizards. Bring the remaining six vials. We leave at dawn."
"I am to sail with you?" the red robed man asked.
"We have many ports to visit; this is your chance to see the world, Archanist," the woman answered. "And of course, I can't leave you here. There is no telling what trouble you may concoct in my absence."
"The true plague is quite safe from me," Blood Burn said. "From everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, including the goddess even. Everyone save you. You've seen to that. You have robbed the world of perfection. Why won't you leave me be?"
"Because you are insane," she answered. "And the insane can cause such mischief if not watched."
"Insane? How so? All I seek is to remedy-"
"-Life's imperfections," she interrupted. "Yes, yes. You've explained. Many times."
"But how does this make me insane?" he asked, truly perplexed. "Or why are you not also 'insane' then? You seek to rule the Seven Kingdoms to bring order to the chaos and imperfections you see. Are not our goals similar? How are we different?"
"The difference is very simple, my dear Archanist. Yes, people will deem me mad for attempting to subjugate all other kingdoms under my rule. But when I'm successful, I will control the narrative, and history shall remember me as a savior."
"On the other hand, if you, are successful, history won't remember you at all. It won't even exist. For every plant and animal in the Seven Kingdoms shall have perished."
2.
The 21st day of the month of Jeuna
Imis
"I have gifts for you, dearest Sis."
Isaura didn't open her front door. She couldn't summon the energy.
"I want nothing from you, save Shea's memory crystal. She had one yes? It was part of her hideous Shadow training."
"True, but that hasn’t been found. Even if it had, well you know it would do you no good, for only Shea could touch it. Madness comes to anyone else. No, I have better gifts. Gift one, your daughter's murderer."
"What?"
Isaura flung open the door. The sisters faced one another, each pushing dominance into the other's eyes. Old habits. Hate, love and hate again, such history, such memories they had! Allies, yes, but just as often, bitter foes.
So alike in appearance, each possessing immortal Alarian beauty: unblemished olive skin, naturally rose red lips and haunting ice blue eyes. But for Isaura's smaller stature, and her midnight black hair to di'Sona's ginger, they could be twins.
Isaura yielded, too dead inside to engage in an extended test of wills. She staggered a step back into her flat, allowing the taller sorceress to enter, followed by a petite Alarian girl of no more than sixteen years, Isaura guessed.
"Kneel," di'Sona ordered, and the girl dropped to her knees.
Isaura avoided di'Sona's eyes, careful to mask her confusion. Decades of habit: never give a Faeyra family member an advantage or weakness to exploit. Yet... the girl before her was so slight, she wondered if a brisk ocean wind would carry her away.
"Her?"
'Her????' Isaura's mind screamed. 'How in the name of Aana could she kill Sheala?'
For when Shea left her...
'That day we fought ...said things we couldn't take back...'
...she ran away, to the Khedel Empire, Isaura later learned to her dismay, to study the Shadow Arts under Caxenar's dark priests. She didn't think she could be more devastated than when she learned Shea had graduated, with honors, for she knew the Caxenar rituals. She knew what that meant.
But she was wrong; news of Shea's death was a thousand times worse. The day Shea died was the day her heart turned to stone.
'How could one skilled in the Shadow Arts be killed by this waif?'
Yet di'Sona confirmed it with a nod, a snide smile playing on her face. They were so skilled in reveling in the other's pain, a talent practiced to the extreme by her 'loving' parents. Isaura ignored her sister's amused expression, focusing instead on the girl.
Conflicting emotions bubbled in her chest. First: searing anger. But also...
'...there is something about her... She reminds me of ...of...'
Isaura shook her head in self disgust.
'Compassion for Shea's killer? I will strike her dead! But first…'
"...I need facts!"
Isaura circled the kneeling girl, once, twice, taking her time, breathing in every detail.
She saw much now that she looked, much that was missing at first glance - here was intrigue. Deceit. All she hated. All she left Alari for.
'And my little girl is dead. Her soul, gone from the Seven Kingdoms.'
Isaura drifted to the open window of her flat to gaze on the harbor. Pulling back the cowl of her robe, she breathed the salty ocean air.
Hemm's Bay was quiet during the winter season, as the trading ships of the other six kingdoms stayed closer to their home ports to avoid the winter storms. A cool evening breeze caressed Isaura's face, and rays from the sunset made her raven black hair glow silvery.
"She loved the winter season most as a child, the bright Yuletide festivals and scrumptious feasts," Isaura spoke, to the wind, and sea below.
'Oh daughter! If I could make Ananke move her spindle back to then, I would do so many things differently. But the gods never give us second chances. We are cruelly sentenced to relive the memories of our sins, again and again.'
"We are ever prisoners to our memories," she sighed. Her heart was gashed and torn, and maybe would be forever. The long roads traveled had taken their toll, too. She had just returned to Imis last night after a year's absence.
'Returned to this... abomination.'
The girl was barefoot, and clad only in a gray cotton tunic. Isaura's trained vision detected more.
'Wrapped about her body - the strangest of magicks! Fading, but still there...'
The girl's dulled sunken eyes showed no spark behind them, only animal like dumbness; telltale signs the infamous iron collar circling her neck had done its work. The magical atrocity called the Torc of Penance.
Isaura strode again in front of the girl, grabbed her face, and jerked it upward.
"Creature, speak your name?"
"Aesh the Alquimista."
"You killed my Sheala?"
"Yes."
Her voice was as hollow as her eyes.
"Why?"
"She made me."
"Where are you from?"
"Ogda."
That stopped her; Ogda was the smallest of the Seven Kingdoms, and by historical accounts, the most peaceful. They were not known for producing violent criminals, least of all assassins. Nor soldiers for that matter; the kingdom was still rebounding from the terrible 'Black Death' that decimated the population some twelve years ago.
'Nothing makes sense!'
First, to her knowledge, no Alarians lived in Ogda. Second, there was the fishy remnant of peculiar magic encircling her. And finally, her male name.
"What should I do with you?"
"Kill me."
'Was there remorse in her tone then? No, I'm imagining.'
Isaura looked at her sister. "What is this, di'Sona?"
"Maddening is what it is. After weeks of intense interrogation using the legendary Torc no less, this thing is the sum total of what we could gather from Shea's mission," di'Sona said. From her robes, she withdrew a thin cane.
"Oh, we learned ever so much about the assassin's cover story, of Aesh's so called life as a devoted little alquimista from some quaint town in Ogda whose name escapes me. About a quest to find a missing professor, a tarot reading in Millcrest predicting he would find - brace yourself - the Queen of Wands. And of course, no quest story could be complete without the 'world will end if I fail' part. Bah! Yet even the Torc -the Torc!- failed to produce intelligible answers."
di'Sona began snapping the cane against her palm.
"She even tossed in 'the plague' for good measure, saying Shea suffered from a variant of it. As if an Alarian could be afflicted with a human disease. Quite a performance."
"I take it you found no evidence of sickness then," Isaura asked, her voice dull again.
She had felt the exact moment of her daughter's passing, even though she'd been half a world away. But since then, though, all feelings fled her. No, that was not right; it would be more accurate to say her emotions had been locked tight inside her.
"The only thing we found was a knife through Shea's heart, and nothing, -nothing!- of what Shea found nor why the creature murdered her. The fool said she'd never seen Shea until the moment she ran her dagger into her heart. Some greater magic is at work, I tell you, if the Torc didn't work. I failed, and I hate to fail!"
As she barked the word 'hate', di'Sona smacked the cane across the girl's face. Though her cheek welted angry red, the girl uttered no sound.
"Stop!" Isaura ordered; even though this creature killed her daughter, something troubled her about di'Sona's cruelty, and the girl's helplessness to stop it.
'Too much information and far too fast.' Isaura gathered herself mentally. 'Time to back up and disassemble this. Let's start with the obvious.'
"Is it not forbidden for the Torc to be used on any but the most depraved criminal? And is it not true the cursed device's power only works upon our people?"
"Impressive, Isaura! You've already discovered she wasn't originally of our race! You are a worthy rival! But in all bodily respects she's Alarian now."
"She?" Isaura's eyebrow raised high. "Aye, now, but not when my daughter was killed."
"Well done, you," di'Sona applauded. "I am well-matched! You see all, the she who was a he. I'm surrounded by such idiots, I forget what it's like to converse with an equal. Simply miraculous, is it not? I'm sure I've never heard of such a thing before. I did think the magical traces would have faded in almost three weeks’ time, but I see I'm wrong. My error amuses me."
"Your error amuses you? What does that even mean?" Isaura shook her head, refusing to let her sister's breathtaking self-absorption distract her.
"The Torc is a supremely cruel and inhumane creation. Why did you do this? There were other ways..."
"True, I could have used any number of mundane torture devices," di'Sona said, with a wink, "but the Torc is a rush!"
"Gods damn it!" Isaura exploded, "we are talking about the death of my daughter and the shredding of another's free will. Please tell me this isn't about your fetishes."
The ginger-haired woman stepped to the center of Isaura's drawing room, all hints of humor gone from her face.
"I ever remember, Sister, that even as wee ones, you strove to cast me in the role of villain, all evil and ambition," di'Sona's purple robe rustled as she stood to her full six foot height.
"Oh stop! It wasn't me who made your childhood a living hell, Sis. Thank Elasha for creating those sweet memories. I let you be."
"You didn't protect me."
"No one protected me, either. Neither mother nor father, and certainly not you!"
"Even so," di'Sona sighed, "I don't understand why we are always cross-purposed. Like you, I seek neither power nor gold. And like you, my goals are to serve our goddess and to protect our people."
"Priestesses hear confessions, Sister, I care not what your goals are," Isaura placed a hand on her hip. "Why. Did. You. Do. This?"
"I could say, 'to avenge Sheala.' I loved her dearly, and thought her aunt ought to, since her own mother couldn't be bothered to break from her self-aggrandizing travels-"
Hot yellow witch fire ignited around Isaura's right hand, and she pointed it palm up at di'Sona.
"-I came from across the Seven Kingdoms as fast as I could. Now... Why. Did. You-"
"-Hold!" di'Sona raised her hands defensively. "Hold, and I will tell you. Much as I would like to know which of us is stronger, tonight I am not your enemy."
The fire receded to a flickering glow around Isaura's hand, and she lowered her palm a little.
"Speak."
"May we sit? This will take some explanation. There is more at play here than, how did you describe it? My fetishes."
Isaura sighed, lowered her still glowing hand further, and nodded. She walked to a couch, removed a dust cover and tossed it aside. The rest of her furniture remained draped, as she'd just returned from her latest journey to their home kingdom, Thyli Alari. She'd mostly stayed away from their country's capital since her estrangement from Shea.
Satisfied, Isaura nodded to di'Sona. Once each sat at opposite ends, Isaura raised an eyebrow and tilted her head toward the kneeling figure.
"What of her?"
"Oh, you mean to sit with us?" di'Sona chuckled and shook her head. "She's alive in the barest of terms. She has no idea whether she's standing or kneeling; sitting would be meaningless also."
For some reason, that brought Isaura's grief and anger hot to the surface again. "Your explanation? Begins NOW."
"It was the end of the month of Rycdos, and Shea was several weeks into a mission to Caphila..."
"Caphila? Why was she there?"
"Arch Duchess Myantha herself gave the assignment, to investigate the movements of a human we designated as a 'person of utmost interest': the man known as The Blood Burn Archanist. He'd been on our watch list for some time-"
"-Did you ask her..." Isaura pointed to the kneeling girl, who, she noticed, was starting to drool, "...what she knew of this Blood Burn human?"
"Of course I did," di'Sona answered in a condescending tone. "She said she had no knowledge of him, absurdly claiming she was tracking another, a professor of some sort. Arrrgh! Using the full might of the Torc, she still failed to give us any actionable intel as to Blood Burn's whereabouts. Such an irksome little excrement."
The cane twitched in di'Sona's hand; if the girl had been closer, the girl would have received another sharp whip across her face. Isaura gathered it was a reflex action in her sister toward the girl. For some reason, that also bothered Isaura.
"Anyway, we'd heard reports of a bizarre weapon this Blood Burn was experimenting with somewhere in the Qyrc Wilds. When we learned he'd been seen in Glesea seeking a backer, we sent our best field agent, to gather information. We sent Shea-"
"-into danger? Your own niece?" The hurt and anger were raw in Isaura's voice.
"She left you because you stifled her. Forced her to trail around the world after you, as you snatched glowing trinkets and scraps of musty paper. She wanted to benefit someone beyond herself. I encouraged her to follow her own path and fly-"
"-to her death!"
"Not the time for this argument," di'Sona gave a dismissive hand wave. "Suddenly, Shea sent a cryptic message: she was nearby and needed to 'come in from the cold' to pass urgent news she had of the Archanist. We set a time and place and I had my best security team with me. As we neared the agreed rendezvous in Fayhold Park, my archer Gwyn Valstina and I heard her shouting."
di'Sona stood and began pacing.
"We ran as fast as we could. Gwyn knocked and fired an arrow the moment we came close to where she struggled with her killer; it pierced his black heart a moment too late. He slumped over Shea's body, knife in hand still dripping with her blood."
"I... don't understand..." Isaura looked at the girl, then di'Sona. "How she is here when you just said he was slain?"
"Almost slain," di'Sona said. She stopped pacing, and ran a hand through her rich red hair, smoothing it, before she smiled.
"In my panic for a solution, I beseeched Ymra."
"You invoked her???"
Isaura blanched at the mention of the dark deity's name. Asking any god or goddess for help was folly, but Ymra? It would be better to ask an earthquake to aid you than the goddess of destruction and transformation.
"Sister, you are an idiot."
"He killed Sheala! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"And I will kill you, if you ever say that again."
"You can try," di'Sona shrugged. "Anyway... I felt he must possess the critical knowledge Shea sought to pass to us. Her spirit had already fled her body, yet though mortally wounded, I sensed his remained. Healing was impossible for such a grievous wound, but in my haste I thought, what about a transformation? Legends of the Yaran werefolk and their miraculous ability to heal their wounds with a shift sprang to mind. True, it was a reckless gambit, to call Ymra, but I did, begging the goddess change him into an Alarian..."
"And the goddess..." Isaura didn't dare speak Ymra's name, instead staring at the girl again, "...answered?"
"Obviously," di'Sona smiled again. "And did as I asked, to transform him-"
"-into an Alarian girl. Whoa. Wait, wait, wait!"
Isaura stood and started to pace; apparently a family trait.
"Exactly how many times have you invoked a deity, and been answered?"
"This is the first time I've been answered," di'Sona frowned. "But I fail to see what that's-"
"- I mean I get why you did it, you wanted him to live, so you could question him for information critical to our kingdom, and to do get those answers, you believed he must be Alarian to be susceptible to the Torc."
The Torc of Penance.
Isaura wanted to spit to get the taste of the word from her mouth. Such a sickly named thing; a hideous magical relic from an evil bygone age.
Created during the time of the Blood Wars that decimated the Seven Kingdoms, it was, simply, an ancient torture tool of corruption. Its creator was an enemy mage whose name the world no longer remembered and he forged it in a way that made it only work on the Alarians.
By all accounts, the collar devoured the free will of the Alarian wearer, leaving a docile fool, unable to refuse any command; even if that command meant betraying one's people ... or her mother ... or her child.
Eimear the Holy captured the hellish device at the Battle of the Bleak Steppes, praise the goddess, and the Alarians had kept it safe in the centuries since. Their rulers decided the Torc would be used on the Alarians’ most wretched, depraved and murderous criminals only, yet rumors of its use beyond these bounds were whispered every century or so. Isaura fought for decades for its destruction, but always her sister wormed her way into the ear of whoever ruled Alarian people to convince them otherwise.
'The perfect interrogation tool, in di'Sona's mind,' Isaura thought bitterly. 'Is it all that surprising the power rush from using it is the sort of thing that gets her off?
Isaura once heard the saying, 'A person's character is his destiny’. But she now thought the saying told only half of it, for was it not also true that a person's character is the sum of his memories? di'Sona's childhood memories were all anchored in cruelty - she was tortured mercilessly by Elasha before she could walk, and has been paying the world back ever since. Now she was using one of the most evil devices ever created to continue to exact her revenge.
'But' Isaura paused, 'this one time, isn't it justified? Doesn't Shea's killer deserve this punishment?'
This still begged one huge question in Isaura's mind:
"Why? Why change her into to a girl? Why not simply into an Alarian man?"
"I didn't!" di'Sona answered. "Ymra's mysterious ways, not mine; my invocation only specified species, not gender."
"And you see nothing strange about this? You invoke the goddess of destruction and transformation ...on a whim ...and she answers you, for the first time in your life! How many times as a child did you pray to any god or goddess listening to strike Elasha down?"
Before di'Sona could answer 'countless times,' Isaura continued, "No, I'll go further than that - for the first time in what, centuries? - a deity has directly intervened in world events, and what does she do? She miraculously changes someone's species and gender, - again, for the first time in... in... history! - and you find nothing astonishing about that? Ho hum, just another day at the palace for my little sis."
"Oh, it was quite astonishing to see: bones reforming, skin rippling, things disappearing and others appearing. Messy too, definitely not a sight for the squeamish. Shame she wasn't conscious to feel it, but ...look, dear, it really doesn't matter what sex she is now, and it certainly won't in a very few moments."
With that the ginger-haired sorceress rose and walked behind the kneeling girl. Pulling a tool from a robe pocket, she snicked something on the rusty collar, and with a *click* it sprung open. di'Sona straightened again and walked to Isaura's front door.
"Wait!" Isaura called, confusion falling on her once more. "Why did you... where are you going?
"To bed. I'm very tired; family reunions are so fatiguing. But first I need to deposit this little gem," di'Sona twirled the rough iron collar before making it vanish into one of her hidden robe pockets, "back into the armory vault before it causes any more mischief. I thought you'd like some quality alone time with this creature."
"Remember what our history tomes tell us, love: the wearer continues to obey commands even after its removal, for her will has been ripped from her soul. Feel free to question her further. Or do whatever else you wish with her. I certainly have. Be creative; she'll do anything you ask. Anything. Take your most delicious revenge. Have fun! But don't dawdle; the tomes also say the wearer never lives beyond a few hours of the Torc's removal."
Isaura's gaze returned to the kneeling girl, and her jaw dropped, as the implications set in.
"Gift number two, and the real purpose of my visit, Sis. Enjoy," di'Sona blew a kiss from her red lips before she disappeared out Isaura's door. "You'll have the pleasure of watching the murderer of your daughter die. And people say the Faeyra sisters don't love each other."
They were alone now, the sorceress with her daughter's killer. A bleakness that can only come from a mother's loss of her baby overwhelmed her soul. She stared, and watched.
And when the kneeling girl's body spasms started and her eyes rolled back into her head, Isaura smiled.
Chapter 2 - The Cavern of Dearmad
1.
The Aalt Gorge.
21 days later. The 12th day of the month of Jeddos, god of winter
The sudden groan of a wagon wheel jostled Isaura from her daze. She sighed as she looked at where the sun hung, low on the horizon; time to stop for the night. It was deceptive; she'd wanted to make it to the Falls tonight, and she could hear them now. But they'd been traveling north all day and were still an hour or more away; Sapphire Falls was simply that massive.
No, best to make camp here, even if the Aalt Gorge's sheer edge wasn’t far away. The nearby birch and aspen offered respite from the north wind, even with half their yellow and orange leaves stripped from their branches...
'How I miss the golden Eemen trees of Alari...' The sorceress sighed at the thought.
Also, a small gurgling tributary stream rushed nearby, offering clean cold water. As soon as she spotted a stretch of ground that was mostly flat, she would park the wagon.
'Wagon' wasn't the best way to describe it, perhaps. The gypsies called it a 'vardo', a home-on-wheels. Isaura's vardo had a stove for warmth and cooking, if a campfire wasn't an option. One the left side, along with the stove, it had two closets, and a small table that served as both desk for Isaura's research and for dining. On the other side were bunk beds, one for Isaura, the other had been Sheala's for many years.
Painted in bright reds and greens and highlighted with gold leaf, Isaura's 'bow top' vardo was just as garishly decorated as any genuine gypsy vardo. This suited her just fine, since this was the disguise the sorceress loved most in her travels throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Isaura wasn't in the mood for the role of traveling gypsy fortune teller today. Playing a crafty soothsayer used to be fun, when Shea traveled with her many years ago. But she doubted it would ever be fun again. Because of the vile thing who sat in the wagon behind her. The one she had decided to call...
'Ashe.'
Even thinking the name was a knife slash to her heart.
She didn't know why she'd picked it for the girl. She knew her real name -Aesh- but an intuition told her the thing needed another. But why this one?
Aesh, was a male name used singularly in Ogda. Ashe was so phonetically close, maybe the girl wouldn't even notice? To be honest, Isaura hadn't seen her noticing anything, but how could she know for sure if the Torc's damage was total and permanent? At the least, the name wouldn't draw questions on the trail.
'And, thank the gods and goddesses for small favors, her bizarre gender switch isn't an issue,' Isaura thought. 'For the little of her mind left by the Torc, she might as well have been a frog.'
"But ...Ashe," Isaura spoke to the nearby trees. "Why did I choose that?'
Was it something more than changing a few letters? Did the name represent what the creature was to Isaura?
Ashes and death. Death and ashes. Death of her Sheala. Ashes the remains of her heart.
Thinking this way, the sorceress could barely bring herself to look at the girl. Every so often she found elf fire circling her right hand; the deadly energy rose with a mind of its own, wanting to release on the girl. Each time she forced her hand back, and willed the energy to dissipate.
"That may be the way of the Faeyra," she admonished herself, "but it is not the way of Aana."
They rode on, Zinjo scouting ahead, she in the wagon seat, the hated thing huddled within, dumb, staring. Isaura's keen elven ears heard many things as they rode, the clinking of the wagon, the wind through the trees, the roar of the Falls in the distance, and her echoing thoughts, of this thing she'd named 'Ashe'. She picked at the thought like a scab.
'Did I choose 'Ashe' because of the sound it makes?'
That almost felt right; the "shhh" sound, an admonishment to silence; she never wanted to hear the murderous thing speak.
Isaura shrugged, defeated. "Whatever the damned reason, it needed to be called something."
Because, contrary to di'Sona's claim, Ashe hadn't died after her sister removed the Torc. She came razor close for sure; after a half hour, her body started to spasm, and she wretched and puked what little food she had in her stomach. A vicious fever fired her body and she lay in a coma for days...
...but didn't die.
Her little sister was the most disappointed, and not solely from a sense of injustice on Shea's behalf, though to her credit, there was a modicum of that. No, Isaura could tell di'Sona felt cheated the Torc hadn't lived up to its infamous and macabre billing.
If Isaura was honest with herself, she would have admitted that this one time, she wished the horrible device had lived up to its legend too. Hadn't she sat there taking pleasure from what she thought was the start of the girl's death?
That it hadn't come presented a problem – what was the goddess to do with her?
Her soul warred, split between hate and grief, and her devotion to the compassionate tenets of her goddess Aana. It would take little to tip the scales to hate.
Taking her from di'Sona was one of the hardest things she'd done, for leaving the wretch was a death sentence. Isaura had no doubt under di'Sona's ‘loving care’, the girl's end would start quickly but take long to finish.
'And didn't she deserve it?'
Yet she hadn't left her, for a solution came to the sorceress in a dream - a goddess-sent dream - which showed a way to grant the girl redemption. She would purge Ashe of all her evil. And she could! Of all the sorcerers, sorceresses, mages, wizards and witches in the Seven Kingdoms, only Isaura knew how.
'In the Cavern of Dearmad. Surely this is what Aana willed.'
Both logistical and emotional problems arose, of course - she would have to tolerate the thing's presence while they journeyed to the cavern, so far from Imis. The girl must be made up to assume the same disguise Isaura and her traveling partner Zinjo used when they traveled about, as gypsy peddlers selling... what was the popular term? Snake oil.
Isaura had no need of the coin from her sales, and she chuckled at the thought. She and her sisters di'Sona and Elasha were the latest heirs of the oldest Alarian clan, the Faeyra, and so by default, the oldest family in the Seven Kingdoms. Their duchy, Beurl'Aana, a contraction meaning Sacred Pool of Aana, held, in addition to the famed pool of the goddess of knowledge and compassion, the most fertile farmlands and vineyards in the Seven Kingdoms.
Isaura's older sister Elasha ruled it, and many years ago paid Isaura for her birthright interest. Isaura hated Elasha with a blazing passion, but her sister had paid a fair price. In return she promised never to return to the ancestral home.
Though she still kept a small villa near Beurl'Aana, Isaura was happy to take the –literally - wagon loads of gold and run. In the following years, she invested those funds wisely, and if anyone had bothered to tally those things in the Kingdoms, they would have learned that the sorceress was the wealthiest of the wealthy.
That meant little to her, but her freedom did - for she was freed from the burdens of ruling the duchy with backstabbing sisters. Free to roam the world pursuing her passion - knowledge.
'It was a wondrous life too, filled with light and love. Shea and Zinjo and I tromped where we wished, until...'
Until three years ago, her daughter rebelled, and after a terrible fight, left her.
"And this thing killed her. This Ashe."
Isaura spit on the ground.
Outfitting Ashe in Shea's old gypsy traveling costumes opened her wounds anew, for a memory of her daughter dressed in those same bright garish clothes bubbled up in her mind.
'No, no, no, my Sheala, my heart! You can't be gone, you can't!'
Isaura's grief turned to anger, burning bile in her throat, and she whipped her head around to look at the girl, hand raised, surrounded by elf fire.
Yet again she lowered. It was becoming harder to not release the deadly flames.
"It would be a waste of energy," she reasoned, shuttering her emotions again. "For the Torc hollowed her mind, and left no one at home. No one to feel the pain."
Ashe. Ashe. Death. Death.
"Whoa Sugarmane, whoa Dandy," Isaura called to the lead horses, jerking the reins once. She watched as a giant of a rider approached ahead.
"This place is flat enough; we stop here, Zinjo. Try to be quiet setting up camp, please? I really don't want any fellow travelers knowing we're here, hmm?
I vil be quiet as mouse," Zinjo grunted, and swung his legs over Patch, his sturdy Uthain mount, his four hundred pound frame making a large *thump* where he landed. Isaura rolled her eyes at the giant, and wondered what kind of mice he grew up with in Vostyae.
She turned back to the statue seated in the lower bunk bed of the wagon.
"Ashe, take your worthless carcass out somewhere and pee," Isaura barked, "then help Zinjo."
As a ghost, the girl rose from her seat, exited the back door of the wagon, and walked off the trail toward the edge of the canyon, searching for a bush to squat behind. Isaura learned the hard way at the beginning of the journey that if she hadn't told the girl to do so, at some point she'd have pissed on herself. Even after Isaura sorted that out, it still took a few messy disasters to figure out the right commands, for at first, the girl would simply squat wherever she was at the time of the command to let it flow.
Watching Ashe stumble over shrubs and rocks on her way to a larger clump of evergreen Manzanita bushes, the sorceress wondered - as she had dozens of times since their journey began - how little of the girl's mind was left to redeem?
Isaura had begun unpacking the newest grimoires she'd brought to study, when Zinjo's voice cut through the steady rumble of the not-too-distant falls.
"Stop, girl! Too close to edge!"
Isaura looked up and saw the giant's worry: Ashe stood a few steps from the edge of a sheer drop to the canyon bottom thousands of feet below.
"Idiot creature!" Isaura yelled, "come back here now!"
Wordless, expressionless, the girl spun on her heels and walked back to the wagon. Sighing, Isaura brushed a strand of hair from her face and returned her gaze to the grimoire she was translating from old Alari, called 'Rín-o', or 'Rending' in the common tongue.
'If Zinjo hadn't shouted, would the girl have kept on walking? And why wouldn't I want that?'
2.
"...Madame Izzie's elixir, a remedy for colds, asthma, or even consumption. Now, perhaps for your beautiful lady friends back home..."
- this drew guffaws from the rough crowd-
"...they could benefit from Madame Izzie's grand restorative, bringing speedy relief for the *ahem* diseases peculiar to the females of a certain age, and..."
As it turned out, their camp wasn't secluded enough; a party of Criocan men set up camp nearby. They were headed south to the fertile Symeon Plain in Caphilia to work the winter wheat harvest. The journey was hard and tedious, and so they sought a diversion, for one evening at least, from the traveling gypsies. It was an unwritten law - one never wanted to invite a gypsy to their home, but they were always welcome on the trail. As the first evening stars began to rise, the rough men gathered in a semi-circle around a roaring campfire Zinjo made near the gypsy wagon.
"Do ya 'ave anything ta make a gal spread her legs easier for me?" asked one of the bigger fellows who had gathered round the fire.
"No, my friend, I don't truck in such evil potions," Isaura scowled, her gypsy glamour becoming menacing; cloaked in her magic, the men saw a wrinkled warty woman, missing more than a few teeth, instead of the flawless youthful beauty of the Alarian.
"However, I've plenty of sweet smelling lotions and balms to chase away the most pungent of odors. That might help some, I'm thinking."
"How many would I 'ave to buy," a second man asked, nodding his head to where Ashe sat at the camp fire, "to have a roll in the hay with er?"
"Aye," another muttered, "I'd like that too."
Isaura gave the slightest of nods to Zinjo, who sat in the shadows just behind Ashe. She knew he was alert to the trouble, such as it was. Zinjo could easily handle this group. So could she with her magic, for that matter. Isaura sensed nothing especially sinister about these men. But she knew also men acted collectively in ways they wouldn't individually. Perhaps a show of force might nip this in the bud.
"Is going to be cold night," Zinjo said, as he walked closer to the Criocans ringing the crackling camp fire. The giant straightened his back so he stood at his full eight foot height. Next, he stretched his neck, making a series loud cracking pops. Finally, he leaned over and lifted an enormous boulder, tossing it in his hand like a ball. He carried it close to the fire and dropped it with a huge *Ker-thunk*
"Ah! Iz nice an comfy," Zinjo said as he sat on the boulder, and stroked his long silver beard. The eyes of the men were very wide now.
"That's my gran'daugh yer speaking of, gentlemen. I'll not brook anymore such comments, y'hear?"
"B-begging your pardon, m-ma'am, we sure won't," the first Criocan said, trying not to stare at Zinjo.
'Now that we've shown them the stick,' Isaura thought, 'it's time for the carrot.'
"Well, now, see'n as you are all fine gentlemen-"
Isaura smiled - in character, she was now the happy gypsy peddler again - and pulled a couple of brown glass bottles from her cloak. She held it out to the Criocan who first spoke.
"-I wonder if'n you would mind samplin one of my elixirs and tell'n me yer thoughts."
"What is it?" The man leaned away from her.
"Old gypsy recipe. We call it, um..." Isaura thought fast, tossing out the first words that came to mind. "...the Draught of the Paragon."
The man leaned back in slightly. "Wat's it do?"
"Oh, just the thing to warm a body on a cold night such as this. And, it makes yer brain all smart and such." Isaura handed him the bottle.
He sniffed it; his eyes watered. He sniffed again, and finally took a swig. He coughed, but a silly smile quickly traveled across his face.
"It tastes just like Southern Smash," he whispered to the fellow Criocan to his right. Then to Isaura: "Of course, ma'am, we'd be glad ta sample your drink and tell you our thoughts."
"Good, good! I think this batch is ready but it never hurts to get another opinion or two."
Isaura passed out another bottle; the first was already working its way around one side of the campfire ring. The man wasn't wrong; she concocted the drink using the same amber mash used in a Southern Smash, but she infused other herbal ingredients – and a little magic - into the brew. The result left the drinker warm, contented, mellow and drowsy; the Criocans would sleep well tonight. And have no more thought of bedding Ashe.
She walked to where the girl sat - statue still - and knelt beside her, whispering in her ear:
"Go to the wagon, worm. Splash water on your face. Rub your teeth with the tooth stick, your breath is putrid. Change into your night clothes. Cover yourself with a blanket, and sleep."
She had to be just that explicit. Isaura watched as Ashe stood, turned and walked to the wagon without uttering a sound. Earlier, when the men spoke of bedding her, Isaura thought, for the briefest of moments, Ashe's eyes might have widened in fear. But thinking on it further, she reasoned it was only a reflection of the flickering campfire flames.
Ashe.
The continuing dilemma: what to make of her.
Or the ‘him’ that surely lived within.
She'd clothed her in baggy pants, an oversized patch quilt shirt, soft leather boots and a gypsy boy's cap to cover her pointed Alarian ears. Yet the Criocans instantly knew she was a lass, not a lad.
Perhaps it was the Zinjo's hearty stews and fresh air of the trail. Or the lack of di'Sona's physical abuse. Or Ymra's divine transformational magic completing its change. But undeniably, she was becoming beautiful, even by Alarian standards. Her face was a flawless unblemished peach tone with a touch of rosy blush on her cheeks. Her hair regrew at an unnaturally rapid pace, already the short curly hair poking out from her gypsy boy cap was a lustrous midnight black. Her lips were the same naturally deep red as Isaura's, appropriately pouty, for a blossoming teen Alarian.
And her eyes sparkled ice blue with flecks of gold.
'Why? Something that evil shouldn't look thus.'
Could she ever forget this one had taken her Sheala? Her heart? Even when she suspected there was nothing of the murderer Aesh left after the Torc had hollowed her mind?
Or after the Cavern of Dearmad worked its wondrous magic, how would she treat her then?
"A true follower of the goddess Aana would forgive. A doubter would not. I guess I'll know which I am tomorrow, when we reach the Cavern, hmm?"
3.
Everyone held an opinion about the origin of the amazing hue of the Sapphire Falls. Some said the brilliant blue crystals fell to ground as a gift from the sky god Romtia. Others thought the dwarves mined too deeply, causing blue blood from deep within the earth to spew forth and harden on the surface. Still others reckoned it was the byproduct of some fantastical wizards' battle.
Actually, the deep sparkling blue of the water racing over and down the 2500 foot falls was a reflection of the azure crystal rocks that lay beneath. Ironically, none of those rocks were sapphires.
One thing Isaura did know - the magic permeated everything here; she could breathe it, and taste it. How else to explain the blue mist that rose and sparkled even at midnight?
Summer saw the falls visited by hundreds of travelers from the Seven Kingdoms. Now, the harsh winter deterred all but the heartiest of tourists.
They'd made good time this morning, after they parted ways with the Criocans. She'd even sold them half a dozen bottles of, what had she called it? The Draught of the Paragon. Isaura might be as rich as could be, but she still liked turning a good profit. And now they were at the Falls, which meant they were no more than an hour's ride from the Cavern.
"You mean to go through vith it? You sure it von't kill her? Or is that what you vant?"
As near as they were, Isaura marveled how Zinjo's voice could so easily slice through the roar of the Falls. People always assumed the giant was slow of mind, because of his hulking eight foot size. They would be wrong; Zinjo and she had been business partners of a sort for nearly twenty years. Indeed, he'd helped raise Shea. And in all their years together, she'd never met a sharper mind.
Their relationship had grown so close that she valued the very blunt statement he'd just made. She shared everything she'd learned about Ashe with him, the terrible deed she'd done, the girl's history as a 'he'.
"She killed Sheala, Zinjo, stabbed her in the heart, for goddess' sake! I'd say I'm showing admirable restraint!" Isaura shook the reins to get the team moving a bit faster. She wanted plenty of daylight hours at the Cavern.
"I loved leetle Shea too! Iz not you alone whose heart is broke," thumping his massive fist against his chest. "Do not further dishonor her memory by turning into one she would hate!"
"But Zinjo, her mind is broken, her body changed beyond all reckoning! I don't see what I am planning as killing anything. I think whatever twisted evil thing Aesh was, is already dead. Look at her."
"Da! Look!" Zinjo motioned from his sturdy Uthain mount.
Isaura looked back into the long wagon to see Ashe staring wide-eyed at the sparkling sapphire mist rising from the falls.
"You see? Not mindless! And last night did you not notice how scared she vas? Or yesterday at Gorge's edge. She thinking of jumping."
Isaura frowned; had she missed those signs? But surely he was wrong.
"You're imagining things, old friend. The colors and movement of the mist captures her attention, but there is no thought behind it."
"Be of open mind iz all I say, 'old friend.'" Zinjo spurred his mount forward and rode ahead to the Cavern.
4.
Dearmad, in ancient Alari, meant memory.
Few in the world knew of it, this Cavern of Memory.
As the wagon plodded forward toward the cave, Isaura's mind race ahead; she had a long history with it.
As wondrous as the Sapphire Falls were, they were nothing compared to the magic of the Cavern. An overly curious earth wizard named its unique stalactites and stalagmites, ajoiollite, in a tome he submitted to the Institute Of Magics in Breasine. With great pomp his findings were sealed in a vault there, and his rich reward for his astonishing achievement? To forcibly be dragged back to the Cavern and have the ajoiollite remove his entire memory. Or so they said; no one quite remembered the specifics of it.
That's what ajoiollite does: it captures the memories of the living, and holds them in its azure stone. Truly unique in all the world.
'Well, almost unique,' Isaura amended, thinking of the Caxenar Crystals of the dark priests, then of Shea's missing stone with her memories, then of Shea.
'Shea!'
"No! I cannot give over to grief now," the sorceress said aloud, "I have tasks to perform which require my complete attention."
She wrenched her mind from the abyss of grief, and back to the magic of the stones in the Cavern. The true magic it held was that once an ajoiollite stone captured a memory, any who touched the stone could experience it and could see it.
If few in the world knew of the Cavern, even fewer - perhaps a handful - knew its location. Isaura was one of the few.
She led Zinjo and Ashe deep within the Cavern, to an antechamber only she had found, one filled with hundreds and hundreds of ajoiollite stalactites and stalagmites.
"Please explain procedure again," Zinjo whispered, as he set down the canvas rucksack he shouldered. Even whispering, his words echoed throughout the cave.
"Each stalactite or stalagmite will hold a single memory. I am going to have one capture the memory Ashe holds of Shea's death. I would see my daughter's last moments."
"Vill only bring pain; do not do it," Zinjo whispered again, clearly uncomfortable with the confined space they were in. Then he spread his hands wide.
"Isaura, as your friend, one last time I beg you reconsider. You are not yourself now, and haven't been since her death. And if you do this for revenge, know this from one who knows it all too well. It does not bring peace." The giant's accent diminished and his tone gentled.
"Ask yourself, 'why do I do this?' Ask yourself, 'is this vhat Aana wants?' Ask yourself, 'will this bring Shea back?'"
"I know... it won't... bring her..." Isaura's eyes teared; she couldn't finish the sentence. "As for Aana's will, I believe this may indeed be her will. But what I do know for certain, is that I need to see how my baby died, no matter how horrible it is."
"For closure. I understand." Zinjo's thick accent returned. "But if zat is plan, why we come down so far, if need only one stone?"
"Here, in this chamber, the ajoiollite deposits are so thick that the stalagmites are all interconnected at their bases. I plan to fill every last one."
Zinjo looked from the hundreds of stalagmites surrounding them, to Ashe's blank face, and back to Isaura, as the meaning of her words sank in. She planned to empty the girl of every single memory she had.
"So plan vas kill her all along. Revenge."
"No! To give her a fresh start. Redemption."
"You are one imagining now," he growled, and the Cavern rumbled in echoed response.
"By all measurable standards she's already dead. This may give her a rebirth," Isaura said, unsure whether she was trying to convince Zinjo or herself of her motives. She turned to the silent girl.
"Kneel, and place your hands on the cave floor."
Ashe obeyed, and once Isaura saw her hands make contact, she pulled her wand from a hidden robe pocket, and spoke one word:
folamh.
Slowly, the stalagmites nearest Ashe flickered and blinked on, their colors shifting from muted blue to rainbow hues. The colors fanned out in all directions too, until after several minutes, all the stalagmites in the antechamber pulsed and softly glowed. Soon, each one settled, all with bright sparkling colors. All except those furthest from the kneeling girl, which were black. Isaura wondered at that.
Zinjo spun round and round, awed.
"These.... all these... filled vith memories of Aesh?" the gigantic man whispered.Isaura nodded, only half listening. The bright color pattern of the stalagmites continued to trouble her.
"And now she... Ashe... Aesh... her mind iz completely blank-ed?"
"Yes," the sorceress replied, focusing on Ashe.
She'd used the word 'blank' to describe Ashe ever since di'Sona first brought her to her room with the soul-crushing Torc fastened to her neck. But now she saw it was wrong. Dulled was more accurate, for now... now she was completely empty. Her entire life, as Aesh, was spread throughout the anti-chamber deep within the Cavern of Dearmad.
And her mind was a clean slate, blank as a babe's. She doubted the girl knew how to speak now, or even eat.
"How does zis work, Isaura?"
"This is the amazing part, Zinjo, it's so easy." Isaura took Zinjo's massive hand and placed it on a nearby brightly hued stalagmite. "You just touch one and see the memory."
"Iz... iz..." Zinjo's eyes widened. "I see tings! Out of eyes of other. Everyone looks so big! Iz little boy I think, talking to papa! They are fish together on warm summer day. Iz happy memory.”
Zinjo went silent for several minutes as the images from Aesh's memory played through.
"He loved hiz papa so much and so much love his papa had back for him," Zinjo whispered. "Iz that why this one iz bright?"
"Yes, I know it seems too simple, but the brighter the stalagmite, the happier the memory."
"How long will the stones hold the memories?"
"A decade, no more, and then they fade."
"There are so many!" Zinjo's eyes scanned the vast chamber. "How vill you find one you look for?"
"The furthest darkest stones are her latest memories. I suspect I'll find the one I seek in those over there."
Isaura pointed to the furthest grouping of stalagmites in the chamber, which were also the blackest.
As the two weaved to where Isaura pointed, Zinjo looked back. He saw Ashe, still kneeling, silent as ever, exactly in the center of the chamber. Radiating out from her in all directions, were the glowing stones, each containing separate memories, all adding up to a life.
He stopped so abruptly, Isaura bumped into his massive frame. "I feel like we valk inside her mind."
"Yes... I suppose that's true." She scanned the room again, still brooding over what she saw.
"This feels like we, hmmm, trespass where we shouldn't," Zinjo said, his discomfort plain. Then he made a sweeping gesture with an arm. "Iz this vhat you expect?"
"No," her head shook slowly. "Not at all."
Forty years ago, Isaura's beloved mentor was close to death. The wizard was known as Airas of the Shadowed Desert; no one knew his surname or where he came from. He often joked with Isaura that he had forgotten it himself. He saw something in her that made him accept as her as his apprentice, even though the ink on her diploma from the School of Sorcery at Grarinns was still wet.
Airas was the greatest human wizard, at least in recent times, and perhaps ancient times, too. But even so, his magic could only extend his life for so long. Realizing he would die before he could pass all his knowledge to her, in an act of supreme sacrifice, the two came to this very chamber, where he emptied his memory, and died. Isaura spent an entire year sifting through Airas's memories to glean the knowledge - the treasures - he intended for her.
Her mentor was a good man. No, a great man - she knew this - yet the memory stones of Ashe/Aesh were brighter than her mentor's had been. Brighter by a lot. But how? She was Shea's killer. How could it be?
When they reached the black stalagmites grouping, Isaura began calculating which held the memory she wanted. She would start with a base stalagmite, and work out a timeline using the memory she saw. She had become rather good at this through working with her mentor's memory stones those many years ago.
Isaura picked one that was not black, but greyed, the beginning, she hoped, of the critical sequence of events.
Once she laid her hand on the moist stone, the stalagmite sucked her into Aesh's point of view with a whooshing. She had forgotten how disorienting the effect was.
As she focused, she found herself looking at a smoke-filled room through Aesh's eyes. Across from her sat a woman who looked very much like Isaura did when she conjured her gypsy woman glamour, only this woman was genuine, a true gypsy. A purple scarf with gold medallions covered her head; and her outfit consisted of a short puffed-sleeved peasant blouse, and Isaura assumed, a traditional long flowery skirt. She couldn't see that from Aesh's seated position.
Wrinkles and lines etched the woman's face, her long hair was peppered and frayed, and she lacked a tooth or two. Her hands held a deck of tarot cards and were laying a pattern on the table.
'Interesting...'
With a raspy cackle, she named each tarot as she laid it.
"The Fool..."
Even from this memory, this echo of reality, Isaura sensed the fortune teller was not a fraud; she felt the aura of great power surrounding her.
"Crow of Avarice...The Hierophant reversed..."
Something about these exact cards nibbled at Isaura's mind. Something familiar. Someone she knew, maybe?
"Black Magus... Devil of Corruption... The Wretched Suicide..."
Isaura didn't connect with those cards, other than to know they portended dark tidings. She watched as the soothsayer laid the critical center card:
"The..." here the fortune teller gasped softly "...Goddess of Cauldrons..."
-If Isaura wasn't paying complete attention to this memory before, she locked in now, for that last card shown either represented Aana, goddess of knowledge and compassion, whom she was devoted to, or Ymra, the fell goddess of transformation and destruction, both of whom were pictured holding a cup or stirring a cauldron. And di'Sona had already told her that Ymra directly intervened, answering her sister's call in the most unprecedented way-
"...The Reborn One... The Yoke of Despair... The Queen of Wands... Temperance...
That the reading consisted almost entirely of major arcane cards alarmed Isaura as much as anything. Dynamic global events were in play.
Something else struck Isaura - the fortune reading had become very specific: 'Reborn One...Aesh? The Yoke is the Torc. And the Queen of Wands... I know who she is.'
"Ace of Flames... Queen of Keys... and" the old soothsayer sighed," ...The Apple Tree of Healing."
"What a clusterfuck!" Isaura heard the disdain in Aesh's voice. "Yes, it's true, we are so desperate to find Professor Brevair, I actually held hope this so-called fortune teller might be a lead when she sought us out. But Master, you see this is all fakery now, right? We must find him before he distills the antipodal chrysopoeia. To reason with him, show his path perverts life!"
Aesh's eyes turned to look at someone sitting beside him; an elderly human man. Isaura guessed he was in his sixties by the few gray hairs remaining atop his head. He wore the dark robes of an Alquimista Dominar.
"Must we listen to any more of this?"
The timbre of Aesh's voice surprised her; though exasperated, it was a pleasant baritone. And she could definitely tell his mind was lively and sharp. Not what she'd expected to hear from her daughter's killer.
'And what sort of voice did I expect Shea's killer to have?'
"You will listen and you will be respectful. And you will cease speaking so impiously, Aesh. Ailana Crow is the Paridala of her clan and is revered as one of the greatest soothsayers in the Seven Kingdoms. She is a genuine Power, to be revered-"
'A Power indeed, and not just one of...' Isaura found herself correcting the memory; she'd met Ailana decades before when she was a tiny gypsy lass, but even then she sensed her power as a seer, '...she is the greatest living seer.'
"-and has traveled hundreds of miles to deliver this reading. Kings and Queens offer her chests of treasure and beg her to tell their futures. Yet instead she came here. To see you. This is important, so pay attention."
"Yes, and I appreciate that, but heavens balls, Sir! This isn't..." Isaura heard his frustration in his sigh. "When I .... when I mix one compound with another, I can predict the results. My past experiments and learnings tell me the probable outcomes. But this 'card reading' ...it can't be rationally explained at all and-"
"-Silence, ignorant pup!" Ailana growled, which made Isaura smile. "Oy! You young alquimistas! Always so cocksure you know so much. Bah, my little finger knows more than you!"
"You are a key! You must heed the cards, for they tell of plague and death for the Seven Kingdoms. More death I see than the Blood Wars, even, unless you-"
"-I struggle to understand how these random cards tell us this, but," Aesh's view returned to his master, "if it is true, why would I do it? Dashing off who knows where because of this fanciful reading is not what we need! My efforts, yours and those of every able-bodied alquimista must be bent on finding Breviar and bringing him back to Edefia..."
'All the alquimistas were chasing one man?' Isaura thought, and recalled what di'Sona told her from her interrogation. 'Who is this Breviar? Blood Burn perhaps?'
"...How can I be ... no, strike that, if I am critical to... the fate of the world then the world is so very screwed. If the world is in danger, then common sense tells us we go instead to our Exarch, to have him warn the rulers of the other kingdoms. They with their armies and wizards are the ones to handle it, not me! Why must this be done alone by me? It's backassward nonsense!"
'Can't fault him a bit,' Isaura thought, 'a rational if colorful response to an irrational situation.'
"Why?" Ailana reached across the table and slapped Aesh's face, and not lightly. "I'll show you why!"
"This is your future, no, all our futures, if you go anywhere but to Imis, exactly as I say."
"I-Imis? In Alari? Among the elves?"
"Close that yammering foul mouth of yours, pup, and see!"
Ailana gathered the cards, shuffled, laid eleven cards down, and placed the remaining two facing up. The first showed a yawning pit, surrounded by doubtless dead bodies, falling into it like a waterfall. Under the picture were the words Lanr Deșeuri.
'The Waste Land? Isaura translated. 'On a world scale?'
On the second card, a skeleton, with sword held high, and jaw bones wide open, rode a gaunt white horse.
"The Broken Earth. The Skeleton Riding. The Void. Death. Don't believe me, boy?"
She shuffled the cards again, several times, counted eleven again, laid two cards down. Void, Death. And she reshuffled them a third time. Void. Death.
"Aiieeeeee! Ailana have same dream over and over for months. Is stuck in head! I see you, leaving today - you must! - travel alone - again, you must! - and when you arrive in Imis, seek she who will lead you to the Queen of Wands. So sayeth the cards."
"And how would I find this 'Queen of Wands'?"
"She will find you." Ailana rose, swept her cards up, placing them an old frayed bag. "I do pity you, boy, for all you suffer. Great change and woe come to you. Do not give into despair. The outcome is murky... many storm clouds gather, yet, perhaps, in the end you may find..."
"Find? Find what?"
"I say no more for the cards show no more."
"You've got to be shitting me, Master Bexon! You cannot seriously expe-
The memory dimmed abruptly, as they often did with the stones, it was as if the stone could hold no more.
Isaura withdrew her hand, and blinked, as she reoriented to the glowlights of the chamber.
"Vell?" Zinjo's tone was hushed, concerned. "Vas it one where... where..."
"Shea died?" Isaura shook her head slowly. Returning from a touched memory from one of these stones was always difficult. This was particularly hard.
"There's more at play here than I ever imagined. Way more, and he... she ... wasn't at all what I..."
...expected. She was confused; she'd assumed her daughter's killer would be heartless, ruthless, evil and someone to hate. Not a young, intelligent man, charming in his youthful passion, if not in his colorful language.
The wasteland and death? If Ailana Crow was right, the Seven Kingdoms were facing a massive extinction event. Was this the reason the Arch Duchess sent Shea to Caphila? Did di'Sona know? What happened to her there, and what happened when Aesh met her in Imis?
'I'm about to find out.'
Isaura walked past several more, her hands brushing the pulsing stalagmites, snatching fleeting images of Aesh's journey to Imis. She stopped in front of one of mixed colors, not gray, but spinning white and black.
"This one" her hands quivered, "holds the memory of..."
'My beloved's death.'
Isaura couldn't speak the words. Zinjo grabbed her wrist; a gentle touch for such a giant hand.
"Maybe you shouldn't. This is something no mother should have to see. I look if wish."
"I most certainly shouldn't," Isaura shook her wrist free of Zinjo's hand and grasped the stalagmite, "but I must."
She fell hard into the memory; it was night, the glowlamps of the Imis streets were lit, casting long flickering shadows. She realized again she was seeing through Aesh's eyes, and at the moment, his vision swung back and forth, fixing on a street sign for a moment -Achorage Lane- then swinging back the other way.
"Where the hells am I? How do they even hammer together these freakishly delicate buildings? Where the hells is the Queen's Point Inn? And why, why, why in gods damned hells am I here instead of hunting Breviar? I might as well crap in my hand and slap my face."
Aesh might be lost, but Isaura knew exactly where he was, in the Guild District, close to Fayhold Park. Where di'Sona said he killed Shea.
Aesh's memory played on; he wandered into the wooded area of the park, and Isaura imagined the lad must have thought it was a shortcut to the inn. In fact he was walking in the wrong direction.
"Stay away! Do not come near, I beg you!"
'It's her!!!! Sheala's voice! Goddess grant me the strength to see this.'
"W-who said that?" Aesh's head bobbed to the right and left, looking, Isaura guessed, for where Shea was. "I mean you no harm. Maybe I can help."
Something was terribly wrong with her daughter; she could hear such pain and weakness in her voice.
"Your accent ...strange," Shea gasped. "You aren't Alarian?"
"No, from Ogda. And here on an assmonkey's quest, looking for someone called the Queen of Wands. Where are you? Are you sick?"
"This disease won't affect you if you aren't," Shea sighed. Isaura felt the pain in her daughter's voice with each word. "You swear you're from Ogda?"
'What's wrong with you, my baby?'
"No pointy elf ears here. See?"
"Quick, then, stranger, come here," Shea rasped, "behind these blackhaw bushes."
Aesh followed where Shea directed, and soon, Isaura saw Shea's face through Aesh's eyes: Shea's eyes were sallow and feverish. Her cheekbones were drawn too, and her skin had telltale splotches. It looked like... but that was impossible! The Alarians’ natural magic made them the only race immune to...
"Plague! A variant, at least," Aesh knelt beside the young woman, putting his hand on her forehead.
"It's called The Wasting," Shea answered. "I... I've never been sick before and ...I hurt so bad, all over, down to my bones. I barely can move. But I'm compelled to."
"You're burning up! Crap! If I could run blood tests I might be able to formulate a pain easing compound. I do have something in my kit that will help a little. Then we've got to get you to one of your healers!"
'Yes, hurry! Take her to a healer!'
Isaura had completely forgotten this was a memory; she was living it as if it was happening in the now.
"No, NO! You mustn't!" Shea's voice was emphatic. "It's what they want! I'm infected with a disease magically designed to weaken Alarians. They've..."
A coughing spell came over her, deep hacking chest rumbles. Through Aesh's eyes Isaura saw blood trickle from the side of her mouth.
'No!'
The coughs subsided finally and Shea continued.
"They've... created plagues for the peoples of each of the Seven Kingdoms! We are to be first, because we are the strongest. We are the example. They think when the other kingdoms see the 'mighty elves' laid low, surrender will be quick to follow."
"Designed? By who? Was one called Breviar?"
"No, by a man called Blood Burn-"
'Breviar and Blood Burn must be the same man,' Isaura concluded.
The sorceress heard voices calling 'SHEA' in the distance, one of them sounded like di'Sona. She saw Shea grab Aesh by his arm.
"Let no one near me! They made me come here, used me as a weapon against my own people."
"Made you? How?"
"She betrayed me. Infected me..."
'She? She who???'
"...and forced a powerful geas on-"
Isaura heard voices calling her daughter's name again, sounding closer now.
"They can't find me alive! They'll catch it too! Spread it everywhere. Making us vulnerable. Crippling our race. I will not be the weapon that brings the Alarians to their knees!"
Isaura saw a blade appear in Shea's hands.
"Hey, stop!" Isaura heard the panic in Aesh's voice. "Put that down..."
She watched her daughter spin the knife so the blade hung over her heart. Aesh swung a leg over to straddle Shea, grabbing the knife, stopping her from plunging it in.
"Stop this, now! Please! You could really hurt yourself!"
"I can't kill myself, her geas prevents my hands from doing it! But yours could."
"I won't! It goes against all I believe in!"
"You will! The Wasting vanishes from the body at death. If I die before infecting anyone, it would set them back. Buy time. Maybe they could be stopped."
"That's not how a pathogen works! A disease affecting the body wouldn't vanish-"
"Shea, where are you?" voices called, closer now.
"Out of time! My people are here! Stranger, forgive me for what I'm about to do. Warn di'Sona about the sickness when she finds us... tell her of the danger to Alari. And tell my mother ...I..."
"Tell your mother what?" Aesh asked.
"I... I've lost my memories!" Shea wailed.
"SHEA!"
Her geas prevented her hands from plunging the knife in, but it did not stop her from forcing him. She reached her free hand up and touched Aesh's forehead. And even through the memory, Isaura felt her daughter using the magical compulsion she had taught her many years ago.
"Wait... what did you... no please, please, please don't make me...-"
When Aesh's hands pushed down, Shea's face smiled, then went slack. But as it did, Aesh felt - and through the memory Isaura felt too - a jolt of energy.
'What was that?' Isaura felt the in rush and it was so familiar. To her, it felt like soul.
di'Sona - close now - yelled 'Stop! Murderer! A whizzing sound followed, and the memory went black.
5.
She didn't remember kneeling, perhaps her knees had given way, she didn't know.
'She's gone. She's really gone.'
Her hand went to her face, so wet. Disoriented, Isaura looked to the cavern ceiling to see if it was dripping. When she touched her fingertip to her tongue and tasted salt, she understood - tears.
'What a fool I am.'
She thought she'd made peace with Shea's passing in the months since her death. Thought she was prepared to face this memory.
'My baby!'
She felt now, in the deepest corner of her anguished soul, that the only time she would have peace was when she herself died.
Isaura lost track of time for her thoughts were of her little girl: the day when she was born, first walked, talked, calling her 'Mama'…
"No, no, no.”
'Was that whimpering?'
She turned to where Ashe knelt in the Cavern's center, but the girl was more blank than ever. Dulled and dead.
Isaura's heart grieved and ached, knowing the truth in full.
"Stop, stop, stop!"
The whining came again; she turned in the other direction, to see Zinjo, hand upon a black stalagmite, his eyes wide and across his face, an expression Isaura had never seen on it - terror.
"Zinjo? What's wrong?"
When his singular response was a howl that rattled the cavern walls, Isaura sprang up and ran to him. She yanked his massive hand free of it - not an easy task - and even then, he kept bellowing.
Her hand stung as if a dozen bees had attacked it, and she guessed she was probably hurt far more than the cheek she'd slapped.
He blinked several times before he whispered, 'Zank you.'
"What they did to little one to make her talk... thing they tie around her neck... so evil!"
"You saw? You felt?"
"Da. I touched next memory stone. It... The Torc, is alive with thing of fire and pain, and ...is rape of soul, I tink."
"Alive?"
Isaura had wondered what the ancient bastard-of-a-wizard had done to make the device so powerful and so attuned to Alarians. But if he had bound a daemon to it, that would explain much
.
"They - your nasty sister and her followers - did other things too. And not to make little one talk. Just to be cruel."
"Yeah, she's one fucked up bitch. She lives for moments like that, when she can justify her perverted sadistic cruelty. She probably got herself off when she questioned Ashe alone with the Torc wrapped around her neck."
"Da, something like that," Zinjo said in a hushed tone, looking at the black memory stone.
Then he turned to face Isaura, his eyes fuming. "Are you fucked up beetch too?"
"Wait, what?"
"Look," Zinjo's arm swept around the cavern, and ended pointing at Ashe. "Look what you've done! You kill her. Empty her. Spread her insides all around. You justify doing so just like nasty sorceress."
"And ...she's innocent, Zinjo," Isaura whispered. "I saw it. Shea made her do it. Ashe -Aesh - had been trying to help, to ease Shea's pain. I've never been so wrong in my entire life."
"I vould see this, if I may?" the giant asked softly. "Would see for both Shea and Ashe I think."
Isaura brooded over this, finally giving Zinjo a nod. What right did she have to say no? Zinjo loved Shea too, suffered when she told him of her death. And, it was Ashe's memory; he had as much right to see them as she.
She pulled his huge hand to the pulsing ajoiollite that held the memory. And touched it to the stone along with her own; they would watch together.
Seeing it the second time was no better than the first. This time, she heard the concern for Shea in Aesh's voice even deeper this time, and the horror when he realized what she was making him do. But more than that, her anger was stoked white hot at whoever infected her baby, and bound her with a terrible geas. Even as they pulled their hands away when the memory faded, and tears filled Zinjo's eyes, hers were red.
"They. Must. Pay."
'I will hunt them down, and show them real cruelty. Faeyra cruelty.'
di'Sona, too, must answer for what she did to Ashe. But then, so must she, yes?
'For I am guilty too.'
Somehow, but... how would she atone for what was done to Ashe?
She could start now, this moment. For she had another inspiration.
"Her memories! Zinjo!! We... we'll return them!"
"Zis you can do?"
"I know a way."
'I think...'
She learned it those many years ago; when her mentor's memories started to fade; she found how to transfer the ones she hadn't studied into her own mind. It was tricky though; if you took someone else's memories from their Caxenar stone, you went insane. It was an unalterable fact and the dark priests learned this terrible lesson over and over.
The ajoiollite crystals were different, gentler and more discrete in how each held a single memory instead of all packed together as with Caxenar stone. Yet when Isaura had taken the remaining year of Airas’s memories into her head, it nearly drove her mad.
'But hopefully, since Ashe was empty... and they are her memories...'
"Da! Good!"
Zinjo's grim face lightened, but only for a moment. Worry soon flooded his face. He motioned to the black stalagmite grouping.
"You cannot give her back zese. Will keeel her."
"I may have a solution for that too, old friend. Would you mind fetching your rucksack?”
Once the giant returned and set it in front of her, she pawed around until she found the dark velvet sack packed in its lower compartment. From it, she withdrew a pair of white cloth gloves, which she slipped on her hands. Then she pulled a hefty pinkish crystal from the bag, and held it up to look in it.
"Vats that?"
"Cabrcon. Otherwise known as a Caxenar Crystal. Shea and I discovered them in the Ergus Mines, the place where those morbid dark priests gather their memory crystals."
A scowl crossed the giant's face. "Vin you visit that cursed place?”
"A year before you started traveling with us," Isaura answered, smiling.
She remembered how excited Shea was to go spelunking in those dark caves. Even as a five-year old, she loved action and adventure. Isaura wished she would have admitted then her daughter wouldn't follow the tedious wizard's path of knowledge as she did. It would have saved so much heartbreak if she had.
"And it does vat?"
"Like ajoiollite, it can hold memories... but it's not as, um, gentle, as ajoiollite."
Zinjo rolled his eyes; years of traveling with the sorceress had taught him she loved to be begged to explain statements like that. Finally he huffed,
"Talk, witch."
"Better yet, I'll show you, if this works as I hope."
Isaura touched the stone to a blackened stalagmite, which brightened, turning back to its neutral azure, and the cabrcon crystal darkened.
She touched another, and it also cleared. She continued touching the stalagmites one by one.
"So, zhis crystal is just like these stones? And you suck bad memories into it?"
"Yes, er, no. The stalagmites are different. They- somehow - separate memories, holding only one each. Preserving them. It's why they are so miraculous. This..."
She held up a now pitch black crystal,
"...can suck out all it touches. Were I to touch one to your thick skull, all Zinjo memories would be gone... pfffffft."
"Evil!" Zinjo took a step back.
"The dark Caxenar priests teach their students how to selectively remove memories as part of their training," the sorceress said, as she placed the darkened crystal back into its bag. She pulled a second bag from the pack.
"Why you possess such things, woman?"
She didn't answer, for he knew why. Unlike her fellow wizards, she didn't lust for power. She craved knowledge.
Isaura spent her life traveling the world, learning, collecting and discovering. It was the reason she and Shea had their horrible argument, causing her daughter to leave her and follow her own path. She said wanted to do something meaningful, not follow her mother around boring libraries or dank smelly caves listening to old men or women dribble out their secrets.
'Oh Sheala!'
The sorceress paused, her body quivering slightly, her despair threatening once again to overwhelm her. She slammed those emotions down hard. As she had every other time her grief for Shea welled within her. But each time was harder.
Huffing a bitter sigh, she withdrew an unused memory crystal from the bag she held. This she touched to the stalagmite which held the memory of Shea's passing. When it clouded whispy gray, she clutched it and kissed it, before returning it to a separate bag. Isaura knelt to tuck the bags back into a rucksack compartment. Once done, she stood.
"Come," she said, and walked to where Ashe knelt, "we are ready to try this."
"And... without dark memories, she vill..." Zinjo was going to say 'be okay,' but stopped his mouth from uttering the words. Of course she wouldn't.
"...think again?"
Isaura bit her lower lip. "I don't know."
She knew of no one whose memory was emptied, and then refilled. And Alarian history told her the Torc destroyed the minds of all who wore the terrible device.
'Yet ...by removing all memory of the Torc' the sorceress thought and hoped, 'wasn't there the chance her mind could work once more?’
"What else can we do?"
Isaura knelt beside the girl, caressing her face, whispering:
"I'm so, so, sorry for what they... we have done to you. If you die now, I swear to Aana the world will not forget you, Aesh. I swear that... that..."
Isaura once more felt wetness streak her cheeks - when had she started weeping? - and Zinjo’s massive hands gently rubbing her shoulders.
"Iz good, witch woman. You are not goddess. You only do best. Iz time."
Isaura nodded, stood, and drew herself up to her fullest height. She straightened her robe, and withdrew her ebony wand from a pocket again. With a flick of her twisted she uttered:
faigh air tilleadh
There were no explosions or bursting lights and sounds, as Zinjo had witnessed on other occasions when Isaura spoke aloud the fell language of the magic. But he did see, slowly, one by one, first from the furthest, then moving closer, the bright swirling stalagmites winking out, returning to their natural azure blue.
When the last stalagmite blinked off, Ashe suddenly gasped and would have fallen to the floor had not Zinjo caught her and scooped her up.
Her eyes opened.
She focused on the sharp stalactites pointed down at her from the ceiling above, and
...screamed...
...her voice bouncing and echoing throughout the Cavern of Dearmad.
Next, her head craned to see who carried her. When her brain told her it was a fierce huge giant, she screamed a second time.
Her third scream came after she looked down at her body.
That one was loudest and longest by far.
end, Part 1
Chapter 3 – Awakening
1.
"But it makes no sense whatsoever, miss-"
"Call me Isaura," she answered, brushing a stray strand of hair from the girl's face.
She found she couldn't refrain from such intimate gestures, since Ashe's 'awakening'. With the girl speaking, with feeling and animation in her face instead of weeks of stone dullness, she was both pretty and, well ...too darned cute. She reminded Isaura so much of the way Shea looked when she was a teen.
"And what makes no sense?"
"I-Isaura. Thanks. Um, ...that a... a... a... -"
"-the dark goddess," Isaura whispered.
"Thanks, that fucking Ymra, would do this to me!"
"Sshh! Do not speak that way of her! It's what someone told me, who said she saw your change…"
After the girl had calmed from her awakening - or at least stopped screaming - and began to understand that the giant and the strange Alarian woman meant her no immediate harm, she allowed Zinjo to carry her back to their wagon.
Then the questions started.
Of course she would have them, this bright young alquimista. Dozens and dozens. At first, her thoughts were scattered and confused, as if the pieces of her mind were still finding their way back together. But minute by minute, the girl's thoughts sharpened.
"What caused this? Is it reversible? Would healers be able to help? Was a potion used? And if so what were the components? Did I die?"
Isaura wasn't sure what the girl thought of the strangers she found herself with. She imagined after Ashe caught sight of her brightly painted vardo wagon, the girl assumed Isaura and Zinjo were a pair of bizarrely matched gypsy travelers. Since the girl's emotions were swinging wildly between manic and catatonic disbelief, Isaura thought it best not to correct her.
Zinjo rode ahead, pleased as could be to leave Isaura with the task of answering the questions of one who awoke to find himself changed to a different species and gender. He would have a campfire crackling and waiting for them when they arrived. Though still only mid-morning, Isaura was certain Ashe could use a good hot meal.
'Eating something delicious always makes things better,' the sorceress reasoned. It wasn't a learning she'd gleaned from her decades as a sorceress, it was just good common sense.
And because she needed to use the privacy of her wagon's interior to contact di'Sona with her scrying bowl, Zinjo would cook up one of his famous stews for Ashe outside. Thankfully, though the air was winter crisp, the sun was out, giving them the appearance of warmth.
Isaura's mind puzzled on other questions as well, even as she answered the girl's:
Where to travel next? Which way led to Sheala's real murderer? To whomever infected her? Was their path back to Imis, to warn the Arch Duchess? Or to the capital of Caphila, where her daughter was betrayed? To Ogda, to take the girl to the comfort of friendly faces? Or to Millcrest, to consult with Soothsayer Crow again?
'Too many choices…'
For now, she decided it was best to make camp once more at Sapphire Falls and let Ashe soak in the wonder. A sense of guilt made Isaura keen to refill the girl's head with as many good new memories as she could.
"I agree one hundred percent, love," Isaura said, returning to the girl's latest question. "I have no idea why a goddess would change you like this."
Truth. Isaura knew why di'Sona invoked the goddess to change Aesh, to both keep her alive and make her subject to the horrific Torc. The sorceress thought her sister's plea to the goddess irresponsible and idiotic, but at least she understood it.
'But why in the name of all the gods and goddesses above and below did Ymra grant it? 'Isaura wondered, 'and why change her gender???
That confused the sorceress most of all. Isaura gave a frustrated sigh: the gods were ever fickle and obscure.
In answering Ashe's questions, Isaura adopted the practice of telling her as much truth as she could, but omitting the horrors Ashe endured. For instance, when Ashe asked why she and Zinjo had taken her in, Isaura answered with:
"Because when I found you there, in Imis, senseless, among people who meant you harm, I knew I must take you with me,"
- all true - was far healthier than:
'Because when you pushed the blade through my only daughter's heart, my sadistic sister wrapped an ancient torture device around your neck, devouring your free will, and then she and her followers tormented you and violated your body in ways I can't imagine. So I took you, and almost killed you many times myself.’
"And why must you insist on calling me by an elf girl's name? My name is Aesh!"
"I'm sorry, I only do so because I think it wise. And, so you know, 'elf' is a mortal term; we prefer ’Alarian’. Which you are now, love, one hundred percent pure."
Isaura watched the girl scowl as she processed that information.
"Now think!" The sorceress continued, appealing to her reason. "'Aesh' is a popular Ogdian male name. Anyone we meet will naturally be curious to learn why a darling little Alarian girl is so named. Are you prepared to answer those questions?"
"Well, no... I..." Ashe scowled again. "No, I don't have a clue how to answer that."
"And this name I've been calling you, 'Ashe,' is so close to your real name, won't you consider pretending to be Ashe for now?"
"That ...makes sense, but I'll only answer to it while I'm – temporarily - like this," Ashe pouted, still unhappy with the new name even if she saw the logic.
Isaura reflexively smiled and hugged the girl; her pout reminded her so much of the faces Sheala made in her rebellious teens.
'I cannot imagine what's going through her mind, awakened to find herself far from the place of her last memory, among strangers, and thrust into the body of a girl, mercurial teen emotions and all.'
"Oh! Another question! Why... er... sorry, am I asking too many questions? Heh. When I do that with Master Bexon, he tells me to put a sock in it. Kinda cute in a quaint sort of way. Me? I take a more subtle approach when people go crazy with the questions. I make this face…"
Ashe scrunched her face into a sour expression.
"What's that look?" Isaura asked, in between giggles.
"That's exactly what people ask when I do," Ashe said. "And I tell em 'I'm sorry, but that's what my face automatically does when someone asks me a really fucking stupid question'."
Isaura burst into laughter, her first genuine one since Shea's death. It seemed that Aesh the Impious had now become Ashe the Impious.
'What a crime if her delightful wit had been destroyed, and thank Aana it hadn't.
"Now... Master Bexon," Isaura asked, once her laughs and giggles stopped. "He's your alquimista master?"
"Was," Ashe added, a frown forming. "Now I'm a... um... now that I suffer from this affliction, I can't be an alquimista, since we... they...damn it ...only train men. This, er, affliction won't last long, will it? It can't. I am so screwed if it does."
"Affliction? Aana help me!" Isaura rolled her eyes. "Since when is being a woman an affliction?! And surely you see how wrong your exalted alquimistas are! Do you understand your learnings any less, now that you suffer this ‘affliction’?"
Ashe's forehead crinkled, and Isaura guessed the girl was reviewing formulas and recipes, to make sure her mind could still cypher them.
Isaura also guessed the issues the girl faced, or rather, wasn't facing. Specifically, her transformation. At least a dozen times since they started back to the Falls, Isaura watched the girl hold her hand in front of her and stare at it, almost as if she was willing it to morph back to her old hand. She refused to let her eyes drop to her chest. The sorceress braced for the fireworks of when Ashe would have to relieve herself.
"No, I understand everything the same," Ashe paused, her face growing thoughtful. Isaura could almost read the girl's thoughts: 'how much can I tell this stranger?' Her next words were guarded:
"So.... I... I need to get to Edefia fast. I have... er ...urgent business there. Can you take me to the nearest port city? It's, um, a matter of life or death. I'd be happy to pay you to-"
Ashe froze midsentence, and a look of panic crossed her face.
"What's wrong?"
"I... I have no money, or identification... or anything! Who will even believe me when I tell them I'm…"
The girl's speech halted again and this time her expression changed to suspicion.
"Why do you believe me? You say you weren't there when this happened. If that's true, why do you believe what no sane person would?"
"Because I trust the person who told me-"
"-And why are you helping me?" Distrust rose in Ashe's voice. "What's in it for you?"
'Oh Ashe, I have so many reasons to give you all the aid I can. Because I, every bit as much as di'Sona, meant to harm you…
-The true horror of what Isaura had almost done was beginning to dawn on the sorceress-
‘...and now it is my duty to atone. For I considered emptying your soul as punishment for my daughter's death…'
A true sentiment. But there was more to it than that, and she knew it.
'Because I believe you are a key to helping me have vengeance on those who murdered my Sheala…'
And she would have her vengeance. Yet Isaura knew she and the girl were goddess-called for greater tasks than revenge. Aliana’s cards foretold it: together they were called to hunt those who opposed life.
But there was more to it than even that. Sitting next to this young girl, who was so very lost, Isaura's heart fired with the compassion of Aana. She took Ashe's hand in her own, kissed it and gave the truest answer she could:
"You don't know me. You have zero reasons to trust me. And only Aana knows how terrified you must feel. But please, please, please believe me when I say I will help you in every way I can. I will take you to a port, and pay your passage home-"
"I don't need handouts," Ashe said, with a prideful glower. "I'll work to earn it-"
"-Oh shush! Let me earn your trust over the comings days. Will you promise to give Zinjo and me a chance, oh Aesh the open-minded Alquimista?"
The girl muttered something under her breath that Isaura couldn't quite make out. Or maybe the reason she didn't catch it was because she'd simply never heard the combination of 'fudgepuppy mouse droppings' before. And then the girl impishly stuck her tongue out, making the sorceress laugh again.
"I take it that's a ...yes?"
"So low of you to appeal to my vanity. And honestly, I am in no position to turn you down," Ashe said. Then she squeezed Isaura's hand gently and gave her a small smile. "But yes. I really hope you mean what you say. It's the only hope I have. You have no idea how grave the stakes are."
'Oh, but I do…'
2.
Sapphire Falls
The Falls were like nothing Ashe had seen before. Its soft glowing blue light made her body hum, and she felt if she stepped off the edge of Aalt Gorge, the sparkling mist would welcome her and carry her away.
She held up her small hand once more, turned it, and curled her fingers to look at her nails.
'It's a pretty hand, delicate and flawless. Just not my hand.'
Ashe ran the hand through her hair; it was getting damp from the waterfall mist. And as she did -again!- she bumped against her pointy ears.
"Damn it."
They were so sensitive, much more so than her real ears. She could hear far more keenly now. All her senses were sharpened; she could see thrice as far, smell fragrances of plants, of animals, of the soil, from far away. And touch? When she held her hand up, she swore she felt the air. Taste was the only sense she hadn't yet tried.
Then the reality of her predicament crashed down on her again.
'I can't ...do this.'
It was too much. How could she carry on? How could she track the professor as she was? Warn the world of the danger? Like this? She was in the body of a teen! An elf girl's body! Who would take her seriously?
'I don't even know where the hells I am!'
Or ...how in the names of all the gods and goddesses would she find the powerful mysterious sorceress called the Queen of Wands? All she'd found was a giant man, and a young eccentric Alarian woman who liked, it seemed, to masquerade as a gypsy peddler.
'I've lost Breviar. I've failed.'
She moved closer to the gorge edge, closed her eyes and listened; the crash of the water, tumbling thousands of feet down to the pool below, formed a harmonic crescendo, a background song to the sparkling blue mist that rose.
"Don't stand close, little one, iz dangerous."
Zinjo’s voice barely registered to Ashe.
'With a single step, I end the madness. It would be easy... so easy to...'–Sadly, besides being one of the most traveled tourist destinations in the Seven Kingdoms, Sapphire Falls was also a popular suicide spot for the Kingdoms.
When her left foot inched forward, an enormous paw grabbed her by the waist. And just like that, Ashe found herself slung over the giant's shoulder, kicking her legs in the air as Zinjo carried her away from the gorge's edge.
"Hey! I only wanted to get a better view! Put me down!"
Zinjo did, but only when they arrived back at their campfire.
"So sorry, leetle one, but maybe new body you are clumsy with? Zinjo did not want cold swim to fish you out."
Ashe mumbled a response that made even the giant's eyebrows rise; the profanity coming out in no way matching the young innocent lips speaking them.
"...and another thing, stop calling me 'little one'. I am -er, was- a man who was almost six feet tall."
Zinjo burst into laughter, and his hands clasped his sides as his body shook with mirth.
"What's so damned funny?" Ashe's face reddened and she felt like stamping her foot. 'Where were these emotions coming from?'
"Because... hahahaha... you are ALL... haha ...leetle ones to me!"
Ashe tried so hard, but she couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face. She'd never thought of it from his perspective.
"Now, if leetle girl who used to be leetle man iz finished with leetle jokes, iz time for big lunch."
"I'm really not..."
Ashe never finished her sentence with 'that hungry', because Zinjo lifted the lid to the stew pot he'd left cooking.
"Oh gods! That smells heavenly!" Ashe's new enhanced smell sense tried to make her dive into the pot. "What is it?!"
"Iz called Zinjo's Zuprise. The surprise iz meat - whatever iz handy. Sometimes venison, other times snake, or maybe whatever crawly things are around."
"Trailkill stew? Ewww," Ashe crinkled her nose. But the stew's fragrance was too seductive. "What's in this batch?"
"Rabbit." Zinjo dipped a spoon in and waved it under Ashe's nose. "Like leetle taste?"
"Yes, please."
Her alquimista studies trained her to precisely identify compounds and ingredients, so when she took the spoon into her mouth, and her enhanced Alarian senses kicked in, she tasted rabbit, yes, but also mushrooms, onions, herbs too, rosemary, thyme, and... and... her analysis shut down because it tasted so freaking good she couldn't keep thinking.
"Soooooo gooooood."
Zinjo handed her a bowl, which she snatched and plowed into. After she'd wolfed down half of it, she looked up, and her face reddened.
"I'm sorry, this is rude, isn't it?"
"Bah, iz greatest compliment to chef."
"You know," Ashe pointed her spoon at the stew pot hanging over the glowing fire, "I've tried cooking. I mean, the dormitory food at my university in Edefia sucked so bad, we were forced to experiment with cooking as a matter of survival. I used the best ingredients and followed recipes to the tiniest ounce, but never managed something this wonderful!"
"Iz because you leave out most important ingredient. A chef must also cook with intention, with heart," Zinjo pointed the stew ladle at Ashe's left breast. "You must know how you want it to taste. Otherwise only taste blah."
"Really? Heart?" Ashe said with a full mouth, "That's not how we are taught. Sounds too much like magic. We are trained to use what exists, is measurable, and-"
"- magic does not exist?" A wry smile spread across the giant's craggy face.
Of course, magic must exist, otherwise a he would have been sitting here instead of a she. Instead of admitting that, she slurped another bite of the savory stew.
"Or let me ask you this," Zinjo said, ladling a second helping into her bowl. With her last bite, she completely demolished the first. If he hadn't added more, she would have started licking her bowl.
"Iz it not true you use Dragon's Breath in chrysopoeia experiments? Yet it cannot be seen, touched or felt, yes?"
Ashe regarded the giant closer now. It was true. Not the dragon breath part; they only called it that to discourage others from seeking it. The gas was actually found in shallow pockets under the bogs in southern Ogda. Bottling it in sealed ceramic jars was a tricky piece of work.
No, what was true, but was one of the deepest secrets of the alquimistas, was they had used the gas as a reactant in their chrysopoeia process - the transmutation of lead to gold. How did the giant know this?
"Well, yes, but, it is measureable, while heart-"
"-iz not?" Zinjo stirred the stew pot. "I ask you something else. You love your papa?"
"Loved. He's dead now," Ashe looked out at the Falls, the dancing sparks of blue. "I loved him very, very much."
"Oh, sorry to hear." Ashe felt the compassion in his words. "But, your Alquimista Master, you love him too?"
"I suppose, but in a different way."
"Different how? Less intense?"
Ashe nodded. "Far less intense."
"Measurable?"
The girl blinked several times when she realized where the giant had led her. Intensity was a valid measurement.
"Often," Zinjo chuckled in a gentle tone, "heart, love, call it what you wish, iz missing ingredient, from good dishes and other experiments, too, I bet."
Ashe's eyes widened. As Aesh, she passed all her alquimista tests to be a master, save one, the Alquimista Puzzle. Not a traditional puzzle, it was a large cube, four to five feet high, and it held an inner chamber deep within, that also held a vial of acid.
The final graduation test was straightforward enough: the hopeful apprentice's diploma was placed in the inner chamber, the cube was locked, and puzzles set. The apprentice then worked his way through a series of alchemical tests and challenges embedded on the cube, unlocking and opening more and more of it with each test passed until the final chamber was unlocked and the new Alquimista retrieved his diploma.
But the puzzle was timed; when the first puzzle on the cube was engaged, it started the sands running in the innermost chamber. The cube was also sensitive to motion. And if the final sand grain fell or if the apprentice tried to break into the inner chamber by force, then the acid poured out, destroying the diploma. Only one try per year was permitted.
The Alquimista Puzzle was their ultimate challenge and next to their formula for turning lead to gold, their deepest secret.
Aesh had tried twice to unlock it and failed, and each time his master told him he lacked one last element that was key. Could the missing element be heart?
She regarded the giant with wonder.
"I owe you an apology. I assumed because of your great size you were dull. I see now you are very wise." She bowed her head. "Please forgive me."
"Aww, iz nothing, I expect it." He cuffed the back of her head gently. Or as gently as a giant can. "Do not be hard on self, leetle people has such leetle brains."
When she saw him wink and caught his joke, she burst into laughter, which he quickly joined.
Then, he held his hand up.
"Something nearby I think. Coming closer."
He stood, turned to the south, and sniffed the air.
"Go to Isaura quickly, yes? Tell her I've gone to check something."
With that he bounded away with such enormous strides, he was soon lost to sight.
3.
'...from what I've learned, someone, the one called Blood Burn, which I suspect is also known as Breviar, created a disease that even affects us. Shea was betrayed…'
Isaura steadied her breathing, strove to keep the anger from exploding at the thought of the torture her daughter must have been subjected to.
'...by one, powerful enough to subject an Alarian to geas. She must be in league with Blood Burn…'
-Scry speech was difficult enough under normal circumstances, but especially hard over vast distances. It took iron will control-
' ...and she it was who sent Shea to Imis as a... a... weapon, to spread sickness among our people, I think...'
Isaura knew a secret about scrying. Wizards, witches, sorcerers and sorceresses, were taught - for centuries, or millennia, even - that scrying required an activator to accomplish the scryer's intention. A pinch of salt, or drop of ink, oil of a flower, or drop of blood, oh and a thousand combinations, had all been tried. But Isaura found, by using the blue sparkling water drawn directly from Falls, her scrying distance increased a hundredfold. She had Zinjo climb directly into the heart of the Falls - only the giant could manage the feat - to fill several water bags every time they passed this way.
'Be vigilant, Sister! Warn the Arch Duchess! I know not where Blood Burn is nor who this sorceress is who supports him. But I do know this - they will try again.'
She continued her slow steady circular breathing, her soft breath caressing the surface of the glowing water in her black granite scrying bowl.
'How did you learn this? 'di'Sona's image frowned back at her from the bowl. 'Only a select few knew of Blood Burn and the threat he... Ah! You learned it from the girl! Made her confess! Impressive! You must share your technique with me!'
'The girl was not responsible for Shea's death.'
'Nonsense! I saw him murder Shea with my own eyes.'
'You were deceived, little sister.'
'Unlikely, but if so... it is a shame, I suppose.'
Isaura studied her sister's face, and saw not a flicker of remorse.
'Speak truth, little sister, what do you know of this Blood Burn, and she who supports him?'
'Maddening though it is, we know no more than you, Sister…'
Isaura could always tell when her sister was lying, and she lied now.
'...but enough of this. You must come at once and discuss this directly with the Arch Duchess. Where are you scrying from?'
'Sapphire Falls. So I won't be home soon. I will scry again when I learn more.'
'The Falls? Scrying is impossible from that-'
Isaura blew out a strong breath, causing ripples in the water surface, breaking the connection mid-sentence.
"I love doing that to her!"
Isaura left the wagon trailer carrying her bowl with her. She spotted a nearby Manzanita bush, and, with a quick prayer of thanks to Aana, emptied the water at its base.
"Zinjo bounced away; he covered, like ten yards with each stride! I mean, holy smokes, are there many more giants like him in the world?"
"Gods!" Isaura jumped. "You startled me, Ashe! I thought you and Zinjo would still be eating dinner."
"I'm not hungry, and he went to check something out. He told me to tell you."
The sorceress frowned; her scrying had distracted her from guarding against trouble. Or perhaps the revelations of the Cavern. Or the renewed grief from watching her daughter die…
Isaura shook her head of such thoughts, and instantly sent her senses outward to sweep the area. It was a skill she'd been taught by 'Dodore the Mad Wizard' some years ago, who, as she'd learned, wasn't mad at all. Just astonishingly eccentric.
Her sweep found Zinjo, moving quickly; their many years together had attuned her to his aura. But farther away, she sensed a presence. Or rather, presences. A little under a dozen, she guessed. From their aura signatures, she figured they were human and non-magic users.
Zinjo and Isaura had developed into quite a team over the years. He would not attack them, even though he could handle their numbers with ease. No, he would hide and let them pass - he was an amazingly stealthy fellow for one so huge - and only attack from behind should they try to attack Isaura and her wagon. He knew from years of working with her, that she would want to question them, these strangers seeking them out. This meant she needed to prepare, and to have Ashe ready too. She guessed they had twenty minutes before whoever was out there arrived. Isaura turned her attention back to the girl standing before her, smiling at what she saw.
"Not hungry? Why not, Ashe?"
"This," Ashe dramatically swept her hand down her body, every inch a teenage diva, "is something very hard to accept, Isaura. I wonder if my appetite will ever return."
"You poor dear," Isaura said, smiling just a twitch. "Oh, I think you have a little stew left on the side of your mouth, love."
Ashe licked the side of her mouth. "Did I get it?"
"No, the other side," Isaura said, as she tried to suppress a giggle.
"Okay, I had a little stew." When Isaura's only answer was a raised eyebrow, Ashe huffed. "Fine. A lot of stew. So, what is Zinjo scouting about for, do you know?"
"Mmhm. Strangers coming. Ten, by my reckoning."
"Ten? Then we need Zinjo here. Right now. He's coming back, yes?"
"No. He will stay hidden unless he sees we are in danger. People tend to not share information when he is around, since they are so busy running in the opposite direction."
Isaura could read the alarm in Ashe's eyes.
"Wait, you're going to talk to them? Shouldn't we be battening down the hatches and running for it, or hiding or something? They might be robbers or…"
"Battening down the..." Isaura took Ashe's hands into her own. "Listen. I know what you must be thinking - you're scared, yes? Trust me, we don't need Zinjo; I promise you, no harm will come to you."
'Well, no more harm...’
"You think you know what I'm thinking? That's absurd! My whole body has been turned upside down! Some crazy fortune teller shows up at my Master's doorstep, spouting mumbo jumbo, and bam! I'm ordered to go to Imis to look for the Queen of Wands-"
"-Ashe, calm down child…"
"...last thing I remember, I was buying a ticket for a carriage to Imis, and... and... I can only imagine things went as wrong as they could go, because the next thing I know, I'm waking up, weeks later, in the arms of a giant, LIKE THIS! So don't tell me you know what I'm thinking! Hells, I don't even know what I'm thinking!"
"Yes, you're right, dear, I don't know, but... just ...calm ...down."
When Ashe paused to actually breathe, Isaura realized the girl was close to hyperventilating.
"What if these people kill us! Or gods forbid, they kill you, and take me away to... to…"
Isaura knew where Ashe's thoughts were headed, and placed her fingers on the girl's head, to let gentle calming energy into her.
"I'm ...I'm scared, and..." Ashe's voice softened, and her shoulder muscles unwound a little. "...and... feel so ...so…"
Ashe didn't finish the statement, but Isaura heard her vulnerability clearly.
"...and I don't know how you can protect me."
"Ah, but you've never seen me in action. I am Alarian, you know; I have a bit of magic up my sleeve. Now, let's get you ready."
"R-ready? R-ready?" Ashe was too stunned to stammer more.
In contrast, Isaura was a blur of action, plowing into a closet she hadn't touched since word of her daughter's passing came. She whipped a wide bright floral skirt to Ashe's waist.
"Um..." Ashe tried to take a step back, but Isaura grabbed her hands, placing the skirt in them.
"Hold this."
Isaura turned back to the closest, quickly retrieving an equally bright, but non-matching floral patterned silk blouse with flared sleeves. She held that to Ashe's chest.
"How darling."
"No, no, no!"
"Oh yes! You need gold earrings too, to be a true gypsy girl, but we don’t have time to pierce your precious pointy ears, so a few pearl necklaces will have to do. We'll wrap a shawl around your waist, and for Aana's sake let's get those ears covered with a scarf. If it weren't winter you'd have to be barefoot too, but the boots will stay, I guess."
"You're... crazy!"
"Mmhm, I may well be. Now hurry and put those on. And remember to call me ‘Grandmother’ when they are here."
"Grandmother? Seriously? You look barely thirty, if that."
"Aww, thanks. I'm 98, and I will actually look it to them with the glamour I've conjured."
"But I don't see any gl-"
"-You can't, love, glamours don't affect Alarians." Isaura swatted Ashe's behind. "Now move."
4.
Ashe spotted their approach, well before the strangers spied them. Isaura noted the girl's surprise; she was slowly starting to realize her transformation involved more than just a gender change. Her enhanced hearing and sight kicked in.
"They're soldiers!"
"Yes, dear, they are. Can you tell which kind?"
Isaura already knew exactly which kind, but she found herself falling into the same pattern of questioning Ashe that she'd used with Shea in their travels together. Not simply giving her the answers outright, but letting her daughter learn through a series of questions.
"Well, hmmm." Ashe squinted. "They have swords, and many have bows as well, so-"
"No, love, those details don't tell us any more than we already know - that they are soldiers. Focus on that which tells us who they are."
"Oh, sorry, okay." Ashe snuck a quick glance at Isaura before turning her gaze back to the approaching men. It struck her she'd heard just this sort of direction from her professors.
"They wear heavy wool tunics and leggings, as you'd expect from a winter patrol, but they each wear an apron with a picture of a shield on it. Two colored, and halved by a diagonal, the top half gold and the bottom red. In the center is an eagle's head."
"Any guesses as to who they are, then?" Isaura was impressed by Ashe's attention to detail.
"Um, I don't know much about this kind of stuff but... Caphilian?"
"Oh, well done! Yes, they are. The Khedel Empire is a similar color scheme, but with two gryphons facing, and rounded shield bottom."
Ashe squinted again. "No, their shields are pointy-bottomed."
She frowned as she pictured exactly where in the world she was. While it was true they were technically in Caphila, everyone knew where the legendary Falls were, in the small northernmost tip of the country, bordering the Khedel Empire. But it wasn't a place many lived. Rather, it was an arid land of sweeping plateaus and sparse vegetation. It begged a question in her mind.
"Why are they here?"
Isaura smiled and sighed even - she loved the way, and how well, Ashe's mind worked. Though one hearing it might think the girl asked a basic existential one, Isaura had watched her face as she worked through the facts and understood exactly the context: 'These soldiers have no business being this far north at this time of year, so what unusual mission were they on?'
Spot on! Yes, she was beginning to like this girl a lot. No ordinary unit this, either, but a platoon of Caphilian Rangers. This should be interesting indeed.
"Let's go to the stew pot and act like we are cooking," Isaura said.
"Act?" Ashe started walking toward the fire. "It actually needs stirring or the stew will start sticking to the sides."
"Ha! Even better!"
The solders didn't bother with stealth. Seeing only an old woman and a young girl, they marched directly to the campfire, fanning out when they reached it. Ashe stirred the ladle, gripping it hard, while Isaura stood beside her. She tilted her head.
"Was tellin’ me gran'daugh we might be sellin’. Do the pretty Sirs want something to warm their bones?"
The men looked at each other, somewhat confused.
"Ach! Always with the dirty thoughts! I meant sumpin’ to drink. We have-"
"-Silence, hag," a bearded man stepped forward, which Isaura recognized as their captain from the epaulets on his shoulders, "we are here by royal decree, to assess an emergency visitor's tax upon..."
The captain looked around, his displeasure evident from his glare.
"...where is everyone?"
"Beggin’ pardon, Sir," Isaura answered, "everyone who?"
"The throngs of sightseers, the…"
"It's winter," Isaura answered in a low tone, hoping not to embarrass the man in front of his men. "Few travel here now. The last group other than us were Criocans headed south for the harvest".
"Pssst," Ashe gave the lightest of whispers. "You're losing your accent."
And she was. For the briefest of moments, her concentration broke. There was something so familiar with having Ashe by her side. So right. It felt…
'Just like Sheala.'
"Damn it! I told the Commander this was a fool's mission!" The captain's eye blazed; he looked in dire need of having something to kill. "We should be mustering every last man who doesn't have the Wasting, to-
"-Beggin' pardon, cap'n," Isaura asked, struggling back into character, "why did ye come here a seekn' crowds?"
"Are you the only one in Caphilia who hasn't heard? Though a gypsy on the road probably wouldn't. Unnatural plague has come. Fashioned by murderous thieving wizards."
The captain could barely spit his words, so apoplectic was his anger.
"Plague? What kind? By the goddess I pray none have died."
'First Shea was sent to Imis to spread disease among the Alari, and now Caphilia is stricken? It is as Shea said.'
"It struck Glesea, last week; our healers call it the Wasting. Quick as that, more than half the city was stricken."
"And ...death?" Isaura asked.
"No, a mixed blessing that," the captain continued. He seemed in a mood to talk; Isaura had to use little magic to encourage him.
"Though those afflicted barely can move and their bodies ravaged by fevers and chills, few have died, thank the gods. Yet none work, bakers can't bake, fishermen can't fish, farmers can't farm, everything in the city has stopped. Soon after the Wasting came, a single ship arrived in harbor, bearing all black sails, and black flag. A fell emissary, hooded and masked in black, approached our king with a cure. She gave a dose to the king, who was afflicted himself."
"And it worked?"
"It did. And when our king asked for more for our people, the depraved rogue demanded more coin than sits in the Royal Treasury. That's not all; if we failed to pay, if we sought retribution, then she said she would release a second deadly plague, killing all living creatures in Caphilia. All able-bodied soldiers were sent throughout the realm to raise the rest of the ransom, which must be delivered in three days’ time! A more heinous genocidal crime I cannot imagine."
"Is such a thing even possible?" Isaura breathed softly to herself. "A plague that kills all living things?"
"Yes," Ashe whispered back. "Though it's not technically a plague."
Isaura frowned, wondering the depth of Ashe's knowledge of this. First things first; time to deal with the captain and his platoon.
"And so yer sent to rob money from all you see?"
"It's called 'levying a tax', hag. And you know now the why of it." The captain's hand moved to rest on a dagger attached to his belt. "If you say one more word insulting my Rangers, I'll cut out your cursed tongue."
"Let's leave for Glesea now, Cap'n Moris," the solder to the captain's left said. "We'll find better prospects along the way, and hopefully no more shifty gypsy folk."
"Don't be hasty, Private Niall," the bearded soldier to the captain's right crooned, sliding his short sword from its scabbard. He edged closer to where Ashe stood tending the stew, leering at her. "There may be treasure to be found here yet."
The captain frowned as he chewed on the words; the frown turned back to heated rage as the meaning became clear.
"Corporal Fynn, are you suggesting that we, one of the most elite platoons in the Caphilian Army, engage in the crime of human sex trafficking?"
"I see it this way, Sir, our kingdom is under siege, our people suffer, and we must do anything we can to save them. Now this pretty little filly will bring a pot of gold in some, er, auction houses in the dock district."
"Not one more word," Captain Moris growled, "or I'll slap you in irons."
"C'mon, men," Fynn said, placing his sword under the hem of Ashe's skirt. "Shouldn't we at least take a peek? If she's as pretty below as she is above-"
Fynn never finished that sentence. Isaura's blood boiled when she watched the terror play across Ashe's face at what the cretin was proposing. She knew she couldn't shield the girl from all hurt; not even a goddess could. But she had this situation in hand, and it was time Ashe knew it. Isaura chanted:
"llsaana"
Her wand appeared in her hand, and with several brisk flicks, she pointed its tip at the platoon, who...
...stopped all moving, talking or even breathing.
"Step away from the mean man, dear," Isaura said, as she lifted the hem of Ashe's skirt off the corporal's sword. "He's harmless now. They all are; they can't move a twitch nor even blink."
Ashe's eyes shot back and forth over the men, confirming the sorceress' words.
"What did you..." The shock in Ashe's eyes reminded Isaura of an owl, when she turned back to face her. "Are they dead?"
"No, not at all, though they could be, if I left them like this."
"He..." Ashe tilted her head toward the frozen corporal, his lust still locked on his face. "They were going to sell me to... to…"
"No, they weren't," Isaura said, taking the sides of Ashe's face in her hands. "We would never have let them."
"Never een million years," Zinjo's voice boomed as he strode up. "I want show you something, leetle one."
The giant walked through the platoon of stone-still men, without giving them a single glance, as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. And for all Ashe knew of Isaura and Zinjo, it might very well be.
Zinjo pulled a long curved blade from his belt behind his back, and with it, pointed to a thick clump of nearby blackhaw hedges.
"See tops of hedges? Imagine they are heads of pesky soldiers."
The giant hurled the blade with a side arm throw, and it whirled through the air in a wide arc, cutting through the air with a whirling high pitched whine, slicing a long swath of the unruly hedges…
'...like butter,' Ashe thought. She hated it when people overused that saying, but watching Zinjo's blade buzz through the tangled brush as if it wasn't there; it was all she could think of.
In an eye's blink the blade was back in Zinjo's hand, and now, in the wilderness near the falls, the top of a long blackhaw hedge stood neatly trimmed.
"You were here all along?"
"Of course. I was being... how did you say it, witch woman?" Zinjo grinned at Isaura. "...quiet as mouse."
"A very big, huge ginormous massive mouse," Isaura replied, rolling her eyes. "Lucky for us these dolts are practically deaf."
"So what do we do now? Make a run for it or something?" Ashe asked, as she worked up enough courage to approach the captain to examine him. "Can he hear us?"
"No, they can't hear a thing and as for what we do next, we must give them what they came for." Isaura's gaze turned back at the wagon. "Zinjo, would you be so kind as to fetch a bag of our special money from the storage box?"
Ashe stepped away from the captain, her eyes fearful once more; she looked like a skittish doe about to bolt.
"Y-you can't mean, um, letting them-"
"Oh heavens no, child!" She took Ashe's hands in her own, and looked her in her eyes. "I've told you I mean to help you, child. And I'll prove it."
"As vill I, leetle one," Zinjo said, returning with a small bag in hand.
"'kay," Ashe said, the tension in her face relaxing a touch, before she pulled away.
"So you'll wake them and give them gold?" Ashe asked; the clinking sounds and outline of the contents told her the bag the giant held was full of coins. "Then they'll leave us alone?"
"Well, yes, but having them leave us alone is not my main goal." Isaura said. She took the bag, held it in front of Ashe and opened it. "Describe what you see."
As Ashe peered in, Zinjo looked at the sorceress quizically, remembering the countless times in their past when the woman had said those exact four words, in precisely the same tone, to Shea. And the expression on Isaura's face, well, Zinjo had seen so many sides of this powerful and complex woman over their many years together, and the side she showed now, of a mother, was the one he loved best.
"Coins, of course. Gold, lots of it. There's a jumble from all the kingdoms, Caphilian francs, Empire doubloons, even some of your Thyli Alarian talons, it's…"
Isaura almost interrupted Ashe with an 'our talons,' correction, because though the 'why' of her miraculous change was still a mystery, the 'what' was not, she was as Alarian as Isaura. But she decided not to push Ashe too fast.
"...hard to know how much is here, without counting, but..." Ashe hefted the bag slowly. "It weighs just under 25 pounds."
Isaura smiled at that; but of course Aesh the Alquimista would be skilled at weights and measurements.
"Anything else?"
Isaura's smile broadened into a grin; she loved seeing Ashe's mind in action. So sharp and precise. She sent a silent “Thank you” to Aana that after all Ashe endured -bizarre transformation, the sinister Torc, the Memory Cavern- somehow her facilities were all there and humming.
"Well, it glows, but I thought that was obvious."
"Do you see the glow, Zinjo?"
"No, witch woman," the giant grunted, stroking his long silver beard. "Zinjo is lucky to no be afflicted with cursed Alarian senses."
"What he means is, you - we - see more than mortals do," Isaura added, when she saw Ashe's confusion at Zinjo's words. "We are attuned to magic, because we are composed of magic ourselves."
"'I'm ...im-mortal now?" Ashe sounded lost again, stumbling over the concept.'Damn it' Isaura chided herself. 'I just told myself not to push her too fast, and then I turn around and do it.'
"Don't worry about it, Ashe," Isaura tried to sooth. "The 'glow' is a spell I've added and with a device I crafted from a sailor's compass, we can track it. Follow it."
"But why? Why would we want to do that? We need to... to..." Ashe looked stricken. "I mean, shouldn't we seek out healers to heal me, or... or... go to the Academy at Prolriams, and ask those brains to figure out what happened to me, or even go to Ymra's Temple, wherever it is, and beg her to change me back?"
"Ashe... Aesh..." Isaura gently placed her hand on Ashe's cheek. "You are tasked with stopping those who would cast this deadly disease into the Seven Kingdoms, Ailana Crow warned you of this-"
"-wait... wait... how did you know about her?"
"-I know many things, my love. But foremost I believe the path to solving your mystery is bound to finding who is releasing sickness as a weapon on Caphilians, Alarians, or others we haven't heard of yet - your Professor Breviar, and those allied with him. You'll have to trust me."
"Wait, what??? You know of him? You clearly know way more than you've told me. That doesn't inspire trust, Isaura. Give me one good reason to believe you, Isaura."
"Because I am the Queen of Wands."
Ashe's mouth flopped opened as understanding dawned, that - despite everything - she might be still on the path the fortune teller set, still hunting Breviar.
"Now, we have a platoon of frozen men to deal with," Isaura said, gently pushing a finger beneath the girl's chin to close her still open mouth. Then she walked directly in front of Captain Moris, preparing to lay a geas on him.
She paused. Geas were such a basic magic; simple compulsions to either compel one or prevent one from doing something. They were hard to lay on the Alarians, and Isaura wondered if Shea had already been weakened by this fabricated plague when one was laid on her.
Her disgust with her sister for beseeching a goddess to transform Aesh so she could get her rocks off using the Torc hadn't lessened. Instead of di'Sona's bizarre transformation request, she could have simply asked the goddess to heal Aesh, and then compelled him with a geas to tell all. But greater events were at play in the world, the arc of which was starting to take shape:
Someone created a plague, Blood Burn, or Breviar most likely. Two kingdoms she knew of were targeted, and the others probably had been targeted too. Ailana Crow warned of a massive death event. A goddess has directly intervened. And someone both betrayed her daughter and subjected her to geas. di'Sona's sadism remained indefensible, but Isaura was beginning to understand that for some greater purpose, maybe Aesh was meant to be Ashe, and together they were charged with trying to stop whatever calamity was headed for the Seven Kingdoms.
'Let's see where the good captain leads us.'
Isaura placed her thumb on the captain's forehead.
"When you awaken, you will happily accept this gold and leave immediately to deliver it to where you were ordered. And Captain, you will see that your men leave the girl alone. Anything to add, Ashe?"
"Only this."
The young Alarian girl walked to where Corporal Fynn stood frozen. Smiling mischievously, she reached both hands around his waist, and yanked his wool leggings all the way down to his ankles.
"Why look! You're just as ugly below as you are above, you... you..." Aesh bit her lower lip, composing an appropriate curse, "...scruffy-looking dickwhistle piper."
"Oh, ho, ho, ho! Iz best joke yet! Oh, ho, ho, ho!"
Zinjo's laughter could be heard over the roar of the Falls, even as the giant bounded away to hide.
Isaura laughed too, as she chanted the reversal spell to unfreeze the men. She couldn't help it; Aesh was too damn funny. In other circumstances she could see herself growing really fond of this girl. Circumstances where Aesh hadn't been the instrument of Shea's death.
5.
"C'mon! I know you have questions, I can hear them rattling around in your head. Spit them out, Ashe."
Ashe hadn't spoken since the Rangers had taken the gold and left. That wasn't exactly true, because the look on the corporal's face when he realized he was suddenly half-naked made her snicker more than once as they broke camp.
But on the trail, in semi-hot pursuit following the platoon, the girl grew quiet.
"Suit yourself, sweetie, but wrap a blanket around yourself at least."
"Why?”
"We'll follow them well past sundown, I bet, since they are in a hurry to return to Glesea with our gold. It will only get colder and you already have your arms wrapped around yourself."
When Ashe's only response was to blush, it dawned on Isaura what was actually making the girl hold her body so.
"Oh!" Isaura watched the girl when their wagon bounced over another trail bump, "do your breasts need support?"
"Support? Oh! Yes. These...my..." Ashe growled in frustration. "These... are flopping ...from the bumpy road, and they hurt."
"Go back inside," Isaura motioned with her head to the wagon cabin. "In Shea's closet -that's the furthest one - in the drawer at the bottom, look for some fabric bands. Bring one back."
"They'll help?" Ashe asked as she rose, swaying with the movement of the wagon as she walked inside.
"Oh!" Isaura had a thought. "Bring her hand mirror, too."
"A mirror?" Isaura heard the girl rummaging around. "Why? Do you need to signal Zinjo or something?"
"Or something."
When Ashe returned, she held a purple fabric belt, in one hand, and the hand mirror in the other.
"That's it." Isaura said, taking the belt and mirror from her, and handing back the reins in exchange.
"Keep em steady; this will just take a sec."
Isaura moved behind her, and cinched it under her breasts, tying it in back.
"Better? I wear one under my robes, but it can be worn over your blouse, too."
Ashe did a little shimmy with her chest, and relaxed her shoulders a touch.
"Yes. Better. Thanks. What a pain."
She handed the reins back and scooted over in the front seat to make room for Isaura. Once she settled in, Isaura handed the mirror back.
"What am I supposed to do with this? Flash it in the sunlight so Zinjo will-"
"You are supposed to look in it, Ashe."
Ashe slipped the mirror under her thigh.
"Nope."
"Take a peek, please," Isaura asked gently. "It's important for you to at least be aware of how you look-"
"-Those peaks over there are pretty-"
Ashe pointed to the craggy capped range to the southeast. Though their trail still tracked the Aalt River, it no longer carved through the gorge, instead gurgling near the path at ground level.
"-Are they the Brein Slopes? I've heard so much about them, the amazing cattle they-"
"-you can't do this! It's been hours since you awakened in the Cavern, to find this transformation has happened. Yet you won't even-"
"-even what? Admit this has happened? Arrrrgh!"
Ashe pulled off her gypsy cap and crumpled it into a ball. She wanted to punch something, but this would have to do. But when a gust of winter wind rustled through nearby pines before nipping at her eyes, she uncrumpled it and slipped it back on.
"I've let you call me by a different name, agreed to wear these clothes, and am sitting beside you as we chase a glowing bag of gold. That sounds pretty damned accepting to me!"
"But you won't look at yourself, love..."
Isaura shook the reins to encourage the team to keep the pace up. Though Zinjo scouted ahead on his stout Uthain mare Tasha, and wouldn't lose the platoon, they didn't want to let the soldiers get too far ahead of their slower moving wagon.
"...and you barely touch yourself. I have no idea how long you must remain as you are…"
'A beautiful Alarian,' Isaura added mentally, 'on the cusp of womanhood,'
"...but you can't live - for however long that may be - detached from your body. It's-"
"-Why can't I?" Ashe's voice slipped an octave up, sounding very much the teen her body showed.
"Like you said, it's only been hours since I awoke in the cave. Excuse me all to hells if I don't instantly embrace my new womanhood with... with... I don't know... joyous fucking weeping!"
"Joyous fucking weeping?" Isaura asked, doing her very best to hold back a snarky grin. "Really? And what's with all the creative cursing? You've got quite the little mouth on you."
"Don't you dare laugh at me," Ashe said. "And my nickname isn't, er wasn't -arrrgh!- Aesh the Impious for nothing."
"Just look, please?"
"Fine, if it will shut this whole stupid conversation down," Ashe whipped the mirror up and in front of her face. "There. Satisfied? Because... oh!"
Ashe blinked, blinked more, and then blinked again. Her mouth opened and her free hand flew to her cheek.
Isaura read the wonder in Ashe's face; for of all the things Ashe might have expected, to see a flawless Alarian young woman staring back -with smooth peach skintone, the softest hint of blush, pouty red lips and ice blue eyes that - was not one of them.
"I'm... I'm…"
"Beautiful."
"No!" Ashe slapped the mirror under her thigh again. "That's so not me."
"For now, it is. And you must accept it. I worry for what may happen to you, both mentally and physically, if you don't."
Ashe's eyebrow arched; Isaura knew a skeptical look when she saw one.
"Don't believe me? Right now, I bet you have to pee, but have been holding it in because don't want to see your new, um equipment."
"Oh-my-gods! I can't believe you just said that.”
"Well, have you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, while you were holed up in the wagon, muttering to someone named di'Sona…"
'Of course she could hear that,' Isaura thought, 'she has Alarian hearing too.'
"...I snuck behind a bush and ...went."
"And?"
"And can we please not talk about this anymore? Please? I'm begging you."
"Sure, sweetie, of course."
Isaura smiled, pleased with Ashe's state of mind; as painful as the conversation was for the girl, she showed she was processing her transformation. Isaura was, however, unprepared for the girl's next question.
"Who's Shea?"
"S-Shea? Why do you ask?"
"Her closet. Her clothes. I'm guessing one of those beds is hers. She obviously has traveled with you. I've heard you whisper her name. I was just wondering who she is."
"My daughter."
"No way! You're too young to have a daughter in her teens."
"It's kind of you to say," Isaura said, trying hard to hold back her tears. "But remember, I'm 98 years old."
"Oh, that's right. Is she like 65 or something? You Alarians absolutely slay me with the whole forever lifespan. I thought it was a myth."
"No myth; age will not kill us, though other things do…"
'Like knives through our hearts…'
"... She would have been ten years older now than when she wore the clothes you're wearing."
It was so hard at that moment for Isaura to sit next to the very being who ended her daughter's life and sent her soul to the Summerland. Yes, it wasn't Ashe's fault. Yes, Shea compelled it. Still, it was Ashe's hand that drove the blade in.
"So she's about 26?" Ashe asked, missing the past tense Isaura used. "That's just a few years older than I... it's only a few years older than my old body's age. She'd be good to talk to about all this. Do you think I'll ever get to meet her? I wish she was here now."
The iron bonds Isaura had wrapped around her heart since Shea's death suddenly unspun completely and a tidal wave of anguish grief and bitter tears - held back for so long - swept out.
6.
"Oh! It says here that 84,542 humans live in City of Glesea. Also, 470 elves and almost 5,000 dwarves. And 411 Taverns. That means there must be barrels and barrels of ale."
Ashe tried again to engage Isaura, just as she had the entire previous day, while they kept pace with the Caphilian Rangers, tracking them with the sorceress' strange compass. She even substituted the word 'elves' for Alarians in the text, hoping it would spur Isaura to correct her, but... no response.
Looking up from the atlas, Ashe frowned; with each mile they traveled toward Glesea the fog grew thicker. She forced another smile, trying another approach.
"Did you know fog is formed by a warm moist air mass blowing over a cold surface, which in the summer can happen when the warm air from the land meets a cold ocean. Funny this happening in winter though."
When Isaura mumbled, 'how nice,' Ashe thought 'well, another brilliant idea goes down in flames.'
If she wasn't lost enough, now the one person the fortune teller said could aid her wouldn't speak to her. Ashe even wondered if Isaura's vow to help, so reassuring to her yesterday, had been rescinded. Desperate, she lowered her head back to the atlas to try again.
"Ha! One of the Taverns is called 'Ye Merry Ball and Chain!'" Ashe said, flipping a page. She discovered the atlas when she was rummaging through Isaura's book chest; Aesh's number one vice was his love of books, and that passion hadn't dimmed in the slightest now the he was she. This peculiar atlas seemed unnaturally up to date, even to the extent that she noticed the numbers changing: one moment the nearby town of Barcombe had a population of 400, but when she looked again, it showed 401.
'Isaura's magic.'
"Oh, and Glesea has 300 fishmongers. Something seems very fishy about that."
"Hmm? Oh, that's because it's Caphilia's only port city," Isaura answered, in now familiar vacant tone.
Not even a polite groan at Ashe's awful joke.
She closed the atlas with a soft sigh. She knew she'd hurt Isaura, and deeply, because the woman sobbed for hours after she asked her about Shea. She had absolutely no idea why, though.
After Isaura finally stopped crying and went into the wagon compartment to sleep away a crushing migraine, Ashe drove the wagon by herself, watching the magic compass as they went. That night at their campfire, while Isaura slept, Zinjo resolved some of the mystery. He told her Shea died two months ago. He went further, telling her though Isaura had grieved, and obviously was still grieving, Shea's death was a soul wound for the sorceress that she’d ignored too long.
'Until I opened my big turd wanking mouth.'
The giant said it was heartbreaking when Shea and Isaura become estranged several years ago, and just when he thought they were ready to reconcile last year, communications with Shea went silent. He knew Isaura hadn't truly accepted her daughter's death, and though Ashe's innocent comment was unfortunate, he saw it as pushing the healing process forward.
With every conversation she had with the giant, Ashe's respect for his wisdom grew.
Of course, Ashe still felt horrible. She’d been clueless, so Isaura must have known she meant no ill intent, but even so, Isaura could barely look at her the entire following day.
Also, though Zinjo solved much of the mystery, he replaced it with another, for when she asked how Shea died, he gave her a sad look, shook his head and turned away. She got no further information from him, either.
She opened the atlas once more and poured over the maps of the Seven Kingdoms, looking for the place where Ymra's Temple stood.
'If Isaura - the Queen of Wands as she'd claimed she was - is done with me, then maybe Crow's prophecy has sort of petered out, or I've failed or... or... I don't know what... but I need a plan when they dump me.'
Originally she thought to make her way to Edefia first, but now her reasoning led her to want to travel to Ymra's Temple and beg her to change her back.
'Maybe I could then still track Breviar and…'
"Oh, this is bad."
Isaura's voice startled her, and she looked up from the atlas, to see Zinjo had rejoined them. Isaura had stopped the team, and they stood in front of sign tacked to a tree: Skull and bones with yellow slashes below, the common road sign warning for quarantine.
"I find city gates closed tight," Zinjo said. "Ranger solders entered main gate one hour ago."
"Ashe, let me see that atlas you were reading."
Ashe's eyebrows raised; for all the malaise Isaura had fallen in over the past day and a half, she was action now. She handed Isaura the book.
Let's see, Glesea, Glesea," Isaura flipped through the pages. "Walls, walls, walls...here! Zinj, look!"
"Iz on south side." Zinjo peered over the map with his giant head. "Iz secret entrance."
"Hey, what kind of an atlas is this?" Ashe asked peering at the map showing on the open page. It was a detailed street drawing of Glesea; a small wall section on the south side glowed red.
"Oh, just the 7th Edition of the Atlas of the Seven Kingdoms," Isaura answered. She wiggled the fingers of her right hand and bright sparks popped from them. "I juiced it up a bit."
Isaura frowned, thinking. Then she pulled a coin from her robe.
Cuir a-steach am. Cuir a-steach am.
She handed it to the giant, who flipped the coin once and slipped it in his pocket.
"How long?"
"Eight hours. Should be plenty of time."
"Now fun begins, eh leetle Ashe?" Zinjo moved away from the wagon and bounded into the fog. His voice called back, "do not vorry, we professionals."
"Professionals? Professional what’s?” But Zinjo had already disappeared into the fog. “Hey! Where’s he going?"
"The secret gate we'll enter through needs to be opened from the inside. That's where he's headed."
"Um, even in the fog, Zinjo's going to stand out," Ashe said, biting her lower lip and staring at the place in the thick mist where the giant disappeared. "My first time to see the Serene Sea, and it's covered in this crap!"
'The first time you remember,' Isaura amended internally.
"He'll be fine, I gave him a portable glamour."
"The coin?"
"Mmmhm. I cast a 'nothing to see here' spell on it. When he holds it in his hand, people are - quite literally - compelled to look past him."
"Are you sure it works? I didn't see any difference at all," Ashe said.
"Ah, but that's because you're now - what term did you not so subtly substitute for Alarian in your atlas readings?- an elf ...and we elves are immune to glamours."
"You were listening!"
"I always am, on some level." Isaura shook the reins on the team and then pulled left. They were going to have to travel around the high fortified Glesean walls to reach the hidden gate where Zinjo would meet them.
An awkward silence fell on Ashe; after a day and a half wanting to talk with Isaura, and to beg her forgiveness for whatever she said, she now struggled to voice the words. Instead she looked up at the massive limestone walls that lined the city.
Conceptually, she understood the need for defensive walls. Her history lessons taught her Caphilia, with its agricultural abundance, was a prime target for any other kingdom finding itself in famine times. But the reality was so foreign to her.
"Wow, these walls sure are high."
'Really? That's the best ice breaker I can come up with?'
"There are exactly zero cities in Ogda that have walls like these."
"Oh? Interesting. I've been there a few times over the years but didn't particularly notice the lack of them," Isaura answered. "You were right about something else. Fog rolls in here during summer months, not now. This is unnatural."
"As in magic unnatural?"
"After decades of intense and comprehensive studies," Isaura answered, “I've found that's the only kind of unnatural there is."
“Magic!” Ashe growled in frustration; she longed for the neat clarity of her old alquimista world, where 1+1 equaled 2 and the sun rose in the east and set in the west.
They settled into a long silence as their wagon made progress along the city walls. That silence itself became a weight, much like the fog. There was something unnatural about the silence, too; they heard no sounds coming from the city. Caphilia's capitol city and bustling seaport was as quiet as a cemetery. Not a bird chirp nor even wind sound. All Ashe could hear was the clop, clop of hooves; their team in front, and Zinjo's Uthain mount Tasha trailing behind where she was tethered.
Ashe had to break it. "I-Isaura? I'm... I'm so sorry for hurting you with what I said the other day. About your daughter."
"Don't dwell on it, Ashe," Isaura said, spurring the team on. Much as she wanted to, she shouldn't take her hurt out on the girl. For she knew the truth of it. If anything, she should be begging Ashe's forgiveness, for what she had planned to do to her mind back at the Cavern.
"It wasn't your fault..." Isaura said, snapping the reins again.
The thick fog was making the horses skittish, and Isaura knew they had no time to waste. Her compass showed the platoon was still on the move, working their way through the city to, she guessed, the place where the Caphila army collected the ransom Captain Moris described. Her mind grew distracted by multitudes of questions.
'The entire city is quarantined? What is the nature of the sickness? How widespread is it? How is the ransom delivered, and what antidote do they receive in return?'
"...and...you didn't mean to do it."
"Do it?" Ashe asked, confused now. "Do what?"
"Say it, I meant," ’Damn it!’ Isaura was quick to correct her mistake. "You didn't know my daughter was ... was... you didn't know, so don't worry."
It was the most unconvincing 'I forgive you,' Ashe had ever heard. But what could she do?
It didn't help matters when a ghostly figure appeared at the top of the section of the city wall they were near and wailed, his voice echoing through the eerie mist:
"Flee! Flee! All is pestilence and plague! Soon Lord Reaper will walk our streets, swinging his scythe. Fleeeeeeeeee!!!!"
"What are we doing here?" Ashe whispered, unnerved.
"Aana's work."
"That makes no-"
"-Not everything has to make sense!" Isaura snapped. "Seek knowledge, show compassion. Always. This Aana requires of us. Eventually all falls into place if you do."
"-That is so not a catchy slogan. Who thinks up those things for her? And if you think everything is 'falling into place', you are daft."
"-I see now why Ailana Crow smacked you upside your head."
"-How do you know so much about the reading she gave to-"
"-Hush. We're here."
'Here' didn't look any different than anywhere else along the long city wall to Ashe, but Isaura reined the horses to a stop.
"Hop off and knock on the wall."
Ashe jumped down, and stood next to the wall.
"Here?"
After Isaura nodded, Ashe rapped the stone with her knuckles.
"Ouch."
"Try a little further down." Isaura waved the direction with her hand.
After several more raps and movements down the wall, after Ashe knocked, she heard a knock back.
"I-Isaura??"
"I heard. Stand back." Ashe stepped back a couple of steps, which made Isaura shake her head. "No, waaaaay back."
Not two seconds after Ashe jumped back a few more steps, an entire section of the wall started swinging out. It made a loud scraping noise as it did.
"Quiet as a mouse indeed," Isaura mumbled. "Thank the goddess we have this fog cover at least."
Slipping into the wagon compartment, Isaura emerged with a hooded robe; a smaller version of the one she wore. She handed it to Ashe.
Ashe was quick to slip it on, too. Though the breeches, leggings and heavy tunic she wore would have been enough for a typical winter day, the moisture from the fog chilled her bones, and she welcomed the warmth.
The scraping stopped, and a looming figure stepped out of the fog.
"Shall ve, ladies? I suspect not much time iz left."
Ashe started to take issue with the 'ladies' remark, but a clear 'not now' glare from Isaura made her reconsider. Isaura pulled her tracking compass from her robe and watched as the needle stilled.
"You suspect correctly. They've stopped moving." She climbed back on the wagon front and pocketed the compass before sitting again on the wagon seat.
"And where they've stopped is just about where the treasury building should be according to the atlas. I think..." Isaura took the compass back into her robes, "we have time for a quick detour. I hate running blind."
"Nine Lives?" Zinjo frowned. "That weaselly killer is incapable of telling truth!"
"I know," Isaura smiled. It's what makes him so reliable. Hop on, Ashe, unless you want to wait here and sunbathe. Zinjo, what's the city like?"
"Iz quiet like death." Zinjo went to the front of the horse team, as Ashe scrambled back on the wagon. The giant grabbed Sugarmane's collar, and with a gentle tug, led the team through the open space in the wall.
As the wagon rolled through, Ashe frowned. "I thought when you said secret door you meant like, I don't know, a cleverly disguised wooden door that opens when secret words are spoken."
"Did you? How romantic! I had no idea Aesh the plodding Alquimista read fantasy stories," Isaura said, giggling. "The truth is the occasional less-than-honest work crew will leave something unfinished, like this wall section, which is unpiered, thinking there might be those willing to pay for the knowledge."
"And your atlas tells you these things? Where weaknesses are in every city’s defenses?"
"Yes, but so much more! It tells me any number of helpful facts, even where the best places to get bizzo are!"
"I love a thin crusted bizzo, hot from the oven, covered in tomatoes and cheese," Ashe said, her voice sounding dreamy.
"Mmmm, my favorite, too," Isaura added. “I did once asked the atlas where the best bizzo in the Seven Kingdoms was and highlighted a little town off the southeast tip of the Keoba Dynasty called Kudarala.”
“Seriously?” Ashe asked, licking her lips, “gods I can’t imagine-”
“-AHEM”, Zinjo growled, trying to steer the two women back on track.
"Anyway,” Isaura continued, frowning briefly at the giant, “some might worry that a book like this would be dangerous in the wrong hands. But the world has nothing to worry over; I almost never misuse it."
If Isaura expected Ashe to laugh at her joke she was disappointed; like a serious alquimista, Ashe's attention was already fixed on the massive thickness of the wall section. It would take dozens of men, or teams of horses to move it, yet Zinjo had managed it alone. That meant he, too, must be a creature of magic, to possess such strength. Yet another reminder of the magical world she now swam in.
'I have so much to learn.'
But she didn't frown, though. Whether Aesh or Ashe, one thing was certain, she loved to learn.
Chapter 3
1.
The dock district, Caphilia
"This sucks, sucks, sucks.…"
Alex Nine Lives thwacked a nasty blade into the wooden table he sat at, a move he'd done countless times, evidenced by the deep and numerous gouge marks in the table's surface. The blade was almost clean now, only a small blood smudge showed at the hilt. Muttering some choice words, he peered out his shop window into the fog outside.
'An I liked Mad Dog, too.’
Alex was referring to Mad Dog Drake, who lay dead in the shop's stock room in back. Interesting business, that; Mad Dog came down with the Wasting as had so many others. When he wouldn't leave so Alex wouldn't get it too…
‘Well, couldn't leave, to be fair, he'd been too weak to fart, even,’
...Alex stabbed him in the chest. Even he admitted it wasn't the most well thought out plan. But once he'd done that, all signs of the disease on Mad Dog - the red eyes, the splotchy pale skin - vanished. Now he had a dead body on his hands with an incriminating death-wound.
'Wouldn't be the first time…'
Alex didn't fret over his partner's death too much. No, what burrowed under his skin, worse than a flea he couldn't scratch or a tick he couldn't squeeze, was someone was working an enormous scam on the Caphilian government, and Alex wanted in. He played every angle he could think to, even managing to weasel his way into the confidence of some strange wizards at the Dwarven Bar down at the dock district the other day, before the king closed it and every other business in Glesea down with the stroke of a quill.
'Curfew, he says. Robbing the money right from me pocket, says I.'
Alex thought again of the wizards. He'd had bad luck with the cursed lot, and one female wizard in particular, but he knew these blokes were in on the heist. They were already in his debt; he'd fingered that snooping elf girl to them. And they said they would 'reward him handsomely' if he passed along more tips about anyone fishing about this plague business.
He didn't give two shits about handsome rewards, he wanted his cut of the action.
"I swear to Aana, Nine Lives, you haven't bathed since last time we spoke, what two, three years ago?"
Somehow the one wizard he feared most had materialized in front of him.
"Aieeeee!" Alex would have fallen over backwards if Zinjo, who had crept in the back door, hadn't caught his chair.
"Mistress Isaura?" Alex recognized the Alarian beauty in a flash. In his second flash, he recalled the last time they'd been together, when he’d tried to cheat her.
"So good to see you. About last time... I can explain…"
"Oh, do shut up!" Isaura said, as she and Ashe walked in, Ashe shutting the rickety door behind them. "Are we clear?"
"Iz dead body in back room, Isaura. Iz Mad Dog Drake, I tink. Otherwise good." Zinjo swept the knife off the table in a blur of motion. The blade looked comically small in his huge paw. "Thank you, Nine Lives, Zinjo needed toothpick."
"I'd wash it first, Zinjo," Ashe said.
"I can explain," Alex blurted. "He had the Wasting Plague-"
"-or a Plague of Knives. Maybe just leetle plague - one in chest?" Zinjo said, twirling the blade with a dexterity unexpected for such a huge hand. Then he sighed. "I always liked Mad Dog, except when he'z mouth foamed."
"Shea?" Alex looked at Ashe, who stood just behind Isaura. She hadn't pulled back her hood as the sorceress had, but the con man could see her face. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon... I hope you remember how much I helped and will tell your mum that... hey, didn't you tell me you and she split a few years ago? It so warms this old heart to see you've made up."
'Shea was here?' Isaura thought.
"Oh no," Ashe started to say, "I'm not -"
"Hush, sweet," Isaura interrupted. She wasn't sure whether Ashe's next words would have been 'her daughter' or 'a woman' but she didn't want Alex's error corrected just yet. There was information to be learned. "Let me talk with Mr. Nine Lives. He needs to be handled just so."
"-You're a piece of work, Alex," Isaura continued, giving Alex the stare she knew made him squirm. "I need information. Help me, and I’ll forget about how you tried to sell me a bogus Tome of Solitude."
"I swear I didn't know. They..." Alex broke into a sweat, and not from the plague. "They tricked me too! That's it!"
"You poor man. So misunderstood." Isaura turned to Ashe and motioned her head to toward another wooden chair near some stock selves, "Go sit, Shea, this may take a while."
Isaura watched Ashe blink only once in confusion, before understanding lit her eyes. She walked to the chair to sit, saying only:
"Yes, mother."
Those words almost undid the sorceress.
Maybe the resemblance snuck up on her, for when she took her from di'Sona, her face was gaunt and hair cut short. But now... and her voice too, though slightly higher, reminded her so much of her daughter's. There was something so familiar about her.
'Keep it together. Keep. It. Together.'
"Now, my good friend, Zinjo and I are going to ask you some questions about this 'cure' sold to King Alfan. If you are helpful, I'd be willing to forget the Tome unpleasantness."
"And if I don't?"
A huge hand grasp his shoulder. He felt the incredible strength in it - the grip was like iron! - and Alex was certain Zinjo could snap his shoulder blade with little effort.
"If Alex doesn't answer, then, sad to say he's not Zinjo's friend. You do vant be my friend, yes?"
"Yes! I do, I do!"
Alex slipped his hand in his pocket and crushed a small disk his new wizard friends had given him. They said it would alert them and they would find him as quickly as they could.
"Oh goody, what a relief," the sorceress said, trying hard and almost succeeding in keeping her snarky grin contained.
"Tell all you can of this plague and the people who sell its cure, Alex," Isaura started rattling off questions in rapid succession:
"When did it first appear? Who are the people who sell the cure? When and how do they come to collect the ransom? Have you met them?...”
Alex mumbled such answers as he could:
"the Wasting started two weeks ago, spread like wildfire, the ship of black sails arrived 10 days ago, to give the fat king his cure and to demand the ransom. They said they'd come again with the rest of the cure tomorrow night…"
Yet with each answer, he cast a nervous glance to the shop entrance. It wasn't lost on Isaura; summoning discs were basic wizards' fare, and she sensed the moment Alex activated his. She hoped whoever was coming would arrive soon, she was fast running out of questions for this idiot not to know the answers to.
With an explosive blast, three robed and hooded figures burst through the shop door. Their robes were floor length and black, and even though hooded, they further had wrapped black scarves around their faces.
"She's been asking questions about the plague an who you are!" Alex squealed, "and about our operation and so I broke your disc just as you asked-"
"Shut up, scum! Or I'll shut you up permanently!" the middle wizard shouted. The three scanned the room to take inventory of who they faced.
"But she's a wizard just like you, and the giant is-"
"I warned you."
An energy bolt flew from the wand of the wizard who had spoken, hitting Alex in his chest, leaving a gaping -and messy- hole where it had been. Alex, or what was left of him, slumped over.
"So ends the life of Alex Nine Lives, who from the look of things, was down to his last life," Isaura said, standing to face the three.
"Not a nice way to go, even for one as nasty as Alex," Isaura whispered to Zinjo. "A shame, really, he was my best informant in Glesea."
"But every word out of his mouth was a lie," Zinjo whispered back, as he too rose to face the trio.
"Yes, but that's why he was so valuable; I could count on him to lie."
"Shut up, or you'll get the same."
"Oh, I think not," Isaura replied, her wand somehow in her hand, too, which was pointed at the wizards.
The wizard to the right of the one who'd blasted Alex stepped forward, and pointed to an amulet draped from his neck.
"Whatever pitiful magic you may possess is useless, witch, for this is the Amulet of Binding. It has neutralized your powers already."
"Now, on pain of death, who are you and why do you seek to know about the plague?"
"On pain of death? Yes! Let us talk of that pain." Sparks flew from Isaura's wand but fizzled in front of it and then faded quickly with soft popping.
"Hey! What's wrong? My powers! I can't..." She tried to look alarmed, but soon a giggle burst from her lips. "I try so hard, but I can't keep a straight face!"
"Iz why you lose to me in cards every time."
"You won't be laughing when I-" the middle wizard never finished that sentence, for a solid energy stream shot from Isaura's wand, split into three beams, and wrapped around the waists of the wizards. With the flick of her wrist, she slammed them into a shop wall with a splintering crunch.
"Goddess! I hope you didn't spend too much on your 'Amulet of Binding.' Are we good?" The sorceress glanced at Zinjo, and then Ashe, who looked three shades paler. Her eyes were fixed on the gruesome mess that used to be Alex Nine Lives. "Close your eyes and take a breath, sweetie."
"I... I think I'm going to... to..." Ashe stood, wobbled a little, and ran to the stock room.
"No! Don't go back! Iz filled with..." Zinjo shouted, trying to warn Ashe, but she moved too fast to heed it. After she screamed, he mumbled the rest of the warning, "...other dead body."
Zinjo rushed back too when he heard her retching.
Isaura turned back to the three wizards, who were squirming futiley in their energy bands.
"I am very angry with you. Do not displease me further. Answer each of my questions, or..." with another wrist flick, the bands circling the wizards' waists cinched further, making them groan. "...you'll have the unique pleasure of feeling your stomachs shooting out of your mouths."
"I don't know who you are, witch," the first wizard said, "but you'll have no answers from us. A sorceress far more powerful than you has placed us under a geas of loyalty. You'd be wise to let us go."
"Ah! That's helpful."
And it was; she knew she now needed to take a different approach with this trio. Isaura lowered and pocketed her wand, extinguishing the beams. The constriction bands around their arms and waists remained. Isaura pressed her thumb against their foreheads one by one. "And speaking of being helpful…"
"W-what did you do?" the second wizard asked, shaking his head as if he had something stuck to it.
"Why nothing at all," except to apply a geas of my own, to encourage helpfulness and obedience.
"Please, tell me your names."
"D-d-d-don't do it," the third wizard said; pain crossing his face as the two geas clashed, "t-t-t-t-t-tell her nothing!"
"Oh, come now," Isaura said smiling, her voice full of sweetness. "It would be disloyal of you not to. If I don't know your names, how can I tell your mistress how loyal you've been if I see her?"
'T-t-t-that's... true..." The pain in the man's face eased as Isaura's powerful geas managed to burrow under the prior geas. "I-I'm Hupan."
"Uyus," said a second.
"Eqor," offered the third.
"Good lads," Isaura clapped her hands and smiled.
The wizards smiled too, or grinned rather stupidly would be a better description. Isaura's 'helpful and obedient' geas rewarded the spelled person with a feeling of pleasure when he or she answered in a way that drew her praise. She never understood why others used torture to illicit information. First, it was morally reprehensible, and counter to Aana's teachings. And second, it was ineffective.
‘Carrots are so much better than sticks.’
Many, many years ago, when she was an Alarian teen, Isaura ran away from her family's duchy in Beurl'Aana, to escape her older sister's constant cruelty, and her parents even crueler indifference. If she stayed, she would have murdered Elasha. Instead, she and enrolled in the School of Sorcery at Grarinns. And by happy chance, she studied geases under the wizard Eijolore, a true master of the form.
"Oh my, they all sound like good honest Yaran names. Are you from the States of Yara?"
"We are," Eqor answered, and proudly. Nothing disloyal about saying that.
"Oh how wonderful!" Isaura smiled, and the wizards did too. "And wouldn't it be ever so helpful for us all to forget about our fighting? I would be so very pleased if you would. Only remember you zapped Mr. Nine Lives because he was going to blurt out information about her. He was so disloyal."
The men believed that too. Their eyes glazed and they looked confused for a moment. With another flick of her wrist, the energy bands around the men vanished.
Ashe and Zinjo returned from the stock room then; the girl had regained most of her coloring. She took care to not look at Alex's body. Zinjo picked up the body by the rope belt Alex wore and carried it back into the stock room. Isaura figured he would lay it next to Mad Dog's body; business partners reunited.
"What the hells are you doing back here, Shyilia?" Uyus said, frowning at Ashe. "You should be with ...her."
Uyus's eyes widened, and he shot a worried glance - 'have I said too much?' - at Hupan and Eqor.
For that was the way a geas worked, it operated on the spelled person's belief. If a person under a loyalty geas believed he was being disloyal, the geas activated and struck, stopping the person's heart. Even if the person was wrong, it was what he believed that mattered. Isaura's mind raced with possibilities; there were ways around the geas of this mysterious 'her'.
She paused though, something tickled at the back of her brain - yet again Ashe was mistaken for Shea, because the 'Shyilia' they referred to could be no one other than her Shea. It was one of her daughter's favorite 'gypsy disguise' names she used when they traveled together.
Oh Shea!
Isaura looked at Ashe closely. She supposed the reoccurring mistaken identity was partly due to the fact that humans tended to think all 'elves' looked alike, so mistaking one young 'elf girl' for another wasn't surprising. Yet, more and more, even Isaura had to admit Ashe did resemble the way her Sheala looked in her teens. Smaller by a few inches, and slightly curvier, too, but her face... her eyes...
Isaura gave herself a mental jolt -
'Now is not the time to explore this!'
In thinking about it, she doubted these 'wizards' actually caught her daughter. More likely Shea let herself be captured to further her mission; she didn't think herself to be in true danger, and letting these fools deliver her to their mistress was just what she wanted.
"She should be indeed," Isaura improvised, sounding angry, but giving Ashe a glance which she hoped the girl read right. Ashe was proving to be so keen she expected her to.
Ashe blinked again, but only once, and then gave a quick nod.
"P-please don't send me back, good Sirs. I beg you!"
'Not a horrible piece of improvisation at all,' Isaura thought proudly, 'considering all she'd been through in the past days, and only moments ago witnessing a brutal killing.'
Zinjo grasped Isaura's improvisation too, and acted his part. He moved behind Ashe and grabbed her shoulders, as if to hold her in place.
"Not another word from you," Isaura snapped at Ashe. "I see now we are on the same side. It is unfortunate Mr. Nine Lives mistakenly summoned you here. He panicked when the spy returned. But his loose lips were a liability for sure. You served her well by killing him…"
The wizards smiled again at that.
"...and she... most definitely wants this traitorous spy back. I would be so very pleased if you would help me serve her. How do we return her as quickly as possible?"
The two geases now worked together, as Isaura hoped; to the wizards, it now seemed to them that helping Isaura was being loyal to their mistress.
"The Havock arrives tomorrow to deliver the antidote serum, if King Alfan has the ransom," Hupan said, straightening his robe. "We could deliver her bound to Captain Angove. Tell him to see her taken directly to our mistress."
"Angrove?" Isaura had heard of him, a well-known pirate and rogue. "When did she hire him? Last I heard he bedeviled the merchant ships of Khedel Empire."
"She only hires the best," Eqor said, smiling, because saying that surely must be loyal. And it reflected well on them too.
"Which dock should I deliver the traitor to?" Isaura asked.
"Pier 3, though The Havock will be easy enough to find," Eqor answered. Isaura was pretty certain by now he was the leader. "It will be the only one there. All other vessels have fled the harbor for fear of the plague and several dropped warning buoys at the harbor's mouth."
'That could be a problem,' Isaura thought.
She needed one more piece of information, before she sent these murderous idiots on their way: The Havock's destination.
Isaura was certain asking directly would activate the loyalty geas in opposition again. Also, if these low level hacks were spelled, she fully expected all others involved in this deadly blackmail scheme - for that's what it was looking like to Isaura at this point - would be under similar geas. Whih meant the crew and Captain Angrove wouldn't provide the destination port for the ransom either.
So instead of asking where the ship was going, Isaura decided to learn the next best thing.
'Wizard Eqor, it is important the spy be taken to her as quickly as possible." Isaura swung her head one way, then the other, pretending to see if others were present. She whispered, "Do not tell me the name of The Havock's next port of call. There may be more spies hidden nearby.”
The wizards nodded; that made sense.
"Merely let me know where The Havock's stop is in the ransom collection. If it is bound for other kingdoms before returning to her, then I will arrange a faster way to return the spy."
Eqor blinked several times. What this female wizard asked didn't seem disloyal at all, and he did want to help her so very much.
"This will be The Havock's last stop before returning to her, having traveled already to the other six kingdoms."
'Ransom from ALL the kingdoms? Holy Aana!' Isaura thought. 'After its stop here, I bet The Havock will be laden with the biggest treasure in the history of the Seven Kingdoms! And it's in the hands of a notorious pirate. I hope whoever 'she' is has placed Angove under one pretty damn strong geas!'
"Gentlemen, I have one more favor to ask," Isaura beckoned. The three shuffled to her quickly, eager to do whatever she asked. When they were close, she whispered:
Ilsana
Isaura muttered "idiots" at the now frozen men, and walked to Zinjo and Ashe.
"Thoughts?"
"Iz your plan to chase The Havock over the sea?" Zinjo asked.
"I touched their geas, and whoever spelled them is powerful. I got as much from them as possible. 'Follow the money' is still the plan. The trail just got wetter."
"Getting ship iz going to be hard. You heard them say all ships gone."
"Yes," Isaura answered, "but there's always Plan B."
"Oh no!" Zinjo blanched. "Iz bad plan. I work extra hard on Plan A."
"Oh ye of little faith," Isaura said. She turned to Ashe. "You doing okay, sweetie? You're awfully quiet."
"I'm not sure," she answered, her voice quivering. "I've never seen someone killed before, and to see it happen like that…"
'Oh, but you have seen someone killed, Ashe, right beneath your eyes…'
"It's... I believe... I mean, life, all life, is sacred, and..." Ashe's gaze wandered first to the bloody mess at Alex's table, then to the door to the room that held two dead bodies. "Do you see this in your, um, business all the time?"
"See what, sweetie?"
"Life, thrown away, like... trash." She looked at Isaura, and then Zinjo, her eyes, pleading. "Do you do this too? Will you ...kill these men?"
"No, Ashe, we won't," Zinjo answered. "Though some might say they deserve death, iz not what we do. Will let them go…"
'Truth,' Isaura thought. She wished she could convince the girl that Zinjo and she, too, revered life. But words wouldn't do; Ashe would have to learn that fact from watching their actions.
Still, the girl was shaken, and Isaura needed her to not fall apart now, as they moved closer toward the true actors in this conflict. To her mind, more and more, all pointed toward Ashe having a pivotal role in its resolution.
"I could lay a gentle geas on you to make you lessen the memory, or even to completely forget it if you wish."
"No!" Ashe shook her head, almost in anger. Then her voice gentled. "No. I believe that when you boil it down, we are the sum of our memories, good and bad. I would not give up even this one."
Isaura and Zinjo exchanged worried looks, but before either could think of something to say, Ashe spoke again.
"Something else is bothering me. Well, something other than three human statues standing in front of me." Ashe shook her head, stood, and doing her best to ignore the frozen wizards, started pacing. "Something isn't right... this 'Wasting Plague'…"
"...I get that it incapacitates, or can incapacitate, an entire kingdom. But once they use the antidote, what's to stop the armies of a kingdom chasing down whoever created it and getting revenge?"
"Whoever iz doing must have insurance," Zinjo said. "Something to ensure kingdom that pays for antidote won't send army next day."
"Yes! And someone who has the knowledge to craft it," Ashe said, excitedly, "would also know how to make something far more deadly."
"How deadly?" Isaura asked, turning a touch pale herself. For she feared Ashe's intuition was spot on.
"Like ‘kill every living thing’ deadly," Ashe whispered.
"That," Zinjo whispered back, "iz good insurance."
"You know of one who could?" Isaura asked. "Is it Blood Burn? I mean, the one you call Breviar?"
"Breviar could, yes," Ashe answered softly. Thinking of the deaths she'd just seen reminded her of other, greater deaths in her past. To imagine that extending to everyone and everything was too much to bear.
"We three must have a lengthy talk about this man." She turned to Zinjo. "How long do you need to try to hire a ship?"
"Two hours? No more needed. I vill learn soon enough if all ships gone. Still have a few hours left on glamour. Meet you at Celemiril for dinner?"
After she nodded, Zinjo bowed to the two of them and bounded out the shop entrance.
"Celemiril?" Ashe stammered.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, I own tiny little places here and there across the kingdoms. I love traveling about with my wagon, but every so often I need a hot bath, an exquisite meal, and a down bed you can melt into. Now is one of those times, and Celemiril is one of those tiny places.
"Bath?"
"Yes! You're going to love it."
"Wait... me?"
"And Zinjo too."
"Together?"
Isaura burst into laughter. Ashe no doubt didn't appreciate it, but Isaura loved her reactions. They were so unfiltered and precious! After her laughter subsided, she walked to the frozen men.
"I need to wipe this entire encounter from the Fearsome Trio's minds. They must report in soon, and I don't want anyone alerted to our presence."
As she placed her thumb on each of their foreheads, she giggled.
"Together...hehehe... you are too funny, Ashe. Let's go and see, shall we? "
***
Isaura's 'tiny little house' in Glesea turned out to be a sprawling block-long whitestone building, filled with a dozen or more rooms - bedrooms, dining hall, kitchen, living room, walls painted with mosaics of the forests of Alari. And libraries. Many libraries. The rooms were all built around an inner courtyard which was a large lush and blooming garden, even in winter. Because underneath the garden bubbled a hot spring, forming a bathing pool and keeping the air greenhouse steamy.
Isaura and Ashe had waited only a moment at the massive wooden gate of the 'tiny little house', when a side window opened. The head of a little red-capped man poked through - Ashe was certain she saw a green hair tuft sticking out from under the cap - and the little man gave a soft whistle.
"Mistress Isaura! An... Mistress Sheala! This is a singularly superlative surprise!"
The gate swung open.
"Will the mistresses be staying long?" the little man looked hopeful.
"I wish we were staying longer, Peppenet, to enjoy your excellent hospitality. But alas, only this night."
Peppenet was crestfallen, but put on a bold face. "We cherish every moment we have with you, m'lady. Will Tiny be joining us this evening too?"
"Yes he will, Peppenet."
Isaura started to give the team a shake of the reins to move them to the stables, but the lead mare Sugarmane was well ahead of her, pulling forward, sensing a warm bed of hay, a scrumptious rub down, and sugar cube treats ahead.
Ashe's mouth dropped open. "Are they-"
"-Shhhh." Isaura clamped her hand over Ashe's mouth, and whispered, "do not call them gnomes. They are more offended by that than we are when humans call us elves. They prefer 'Fefnoir.'"
"But I thought the gn- er, Fefnoir were extinct."
"Sadly, they almost were," Isaura answered. "I give all those remaining sanctuary at my properties, and in return, they keep my places for me."
"Who's Tiny?"
"Oh, that's what they call Zinjo," Isaura chuckled. "They adore him."
A pack of diminutive Fefnoirs - the tallest being no more than three feet high - sprang into action at the stables, using a series of hanging ropes to swing from, and rope baskets lowered from the barn rafters to tend to the horses. Ashe was astonished at how quickly the tack was removed and stored. Then one or two Fefnoirs hopped onto each of the horses' backs, doing what appeared to be at first glance to Ashe a kind of clog dance. Only instead of clogs, the little men and women wore wire brushes on their feet. When she heard several of the horses neigh with pleasure, it occurred to her this was the Fefnoirs' way of giving the horses a soothing rubdown.
Isaura took Ashe by her arm and led her to the mansion's front door, where another army of Fefnoirs - the house staff – waited.
"Welcome to Celemiril Manor, Ashe. You have but one task in the hours we have here... to rest. Goddess knows you deserve one."
As they neared the door, a female Fefnoir stepped in front of the others and curtsied. She wore a cream long-sleeved blouse and spring green floor length skirt. Green, long layered hair framed a round warm face with gentle hazel eyes. Ashe liked her instantly.
"Piproos! How wonderful to see you again!" Isaura knelt to hug the tiny woman.
"Greetings, Mistress Isaura and Mistress Sheala," Piproos said, after she embraced Isaura. "I am-"
Piproos stopped mid-sentence to stare at Ashe.
"I see Peppenet was mistaken, the scoundrel. You are not Mistress Shea. If not for the ears, I would swear you are her twin."
"Ears?" Ashe whispered to Isaura, her hand straying to touch the point of one.
"Our ears stick out when we are young, and flatten to our heads as we enter our tweens. Yours are still adorable."
Isaura wasn't sure what the girl's hushed mutter that followed was word-for-word, but she was pretty sure it contained the phrase 'got your adorable right here...' Chuckling, the sorceress turned back to address Piproos.
"*Ahem* They are often mistaken for each other," Isaura said, "This is, um, Ashera Faeyra, my ...other daughter. She's been cloistered away at school for these past many years."
Isaura hated not being truthful with her beloved servant, but telling the truth meant explaining how Aesh became Ashe. She wasn't sure there were enough hours left in the day to do that.
It also meant telling Piproos about Shea's death. Piproos loved her daughter deeply, and the news would send all the Fefnoirs in the manor into mourning.
'That... needs to happen, and will. It will,' Isaura thought, but her will to do it wasn't there. 'But not tonight. Not tonight. Tonight I want Ashe to relax and enjoy. She needs it. For tomorrow the chase begins in earnest.'
"Mistress Isaura is often full of surprises, though this is a splendid one." Piproos curtsied again. "I welcome you to Celemiril Manor, Mistress Ashera. It will be my pleasure, and the pleasure of all Fefnoirs, to serve your every wish."
"Thanks, I..." Ashe was at a loss for words. No one had ever said such a thing to her. There was something she wanted to do, though; Piproos' warmth made her desire it. She knelt as Isaura had.
"May I ...hug you?"
"Of course, love," the diminutive woman said, throwing her arms around Ashe's neck. "I would be offended if you didn't."
When Ashe stood, Isaura leaned over and whispered in Piproos’ ear, who turned to the young Fefnoir girl beside her to whisper in her ear. She in turn giggled and took Ashe by her hand.
"I'm Pikwel!" the young Fefnoir said brightly, "You are to follow me, Mistress Ashera. I'll take you to your room and prepare you for your bath."
"I really don't think I..I need a ba-"
"-don't you dare refuse Pikwel's help. It would be an insult, and she would be disgraced," Isaura said. "You will let her serve you."
"Um, it seems I'm to do whatever you say, Pikwel," Ashe said, looking at Isaura to see how serious she was. Even from the short time she'd known the sorceress, Ashe could read her expression; it was very serious.
"Oh don't say that, Mistress Ashera," Pikwel answered, giggling and tugging her into the manor. "I can think of some pretty silly things to say. You are too funny."
"Yeah, guess I am," Ashe said, casting a look back to Isaura as the tiny girl dragged her to her bedroom. Seeing the bemused look on her face almost made her stick out her tongue.
"It seems like lately I'm just fucking hilarious."
***
"W-what am I supposed to do now, Pikwel?"
Ashe and Pikwel first visited Ashe's assigned bedroom, which was the most extravagant bedroom the girl had ever seen. At least from what she'd seen of it - Pikwel whisked her in and out before she could fully explore it. Because, as the diminutive woman had cheerfully piped:
"Bath time. You stink"
Rich-hued tapestries draped from the bedroom walls, depicting various 'fairy life' scenes, such as a herd of unicorns in a forest clearing, or fairies dancing in a circle on a green hilltop, with a full moon shining above. The canopy bed in the center was massive, and even looking at the overstuffed feather mattress made her sigh. Above it hung a canopy of rich green silk.
Next, Pikwel grudgingly allowed Ashe a brief but most welcome stop in a private commode - it had actual running water! Ashe, when she was Aesh and was attending Edefia University, had seen an exhibit in a museum about 'The Future of Plumbing' - she had been really bored one weekend, obviously - but never dreamed she'd try one. After days on the winter trail of squatting behind bushes, she was so appreciative.
Pikwel hadn't let her linger, but with drill sergeant efficiency, ordered her to strip, gave her a semi-transparent white robe and slippers to wear, and marched her through the Celemiril hallways to the manor's inner garden.
Ashe now stood before a steamy hot pool. A massive one. She was stunned.
“What do I do, um, now?”
"You get in, silly," Pikwel giggled and held up her hand. "It's called a bath. Now gimme."
The little gnome clearly expected her to hand over her ‘barely there’ robe. She would have been mortified as Aesh to be naked in public. Being Ashe made it easier in a backwards way - she gritted her teeth, stepped out of her slippers, and handed Pikwel her robe. All the while thinking:
'Not my body, not my body…'
She jumped in with a splash, making sure some water landed on Pikwel, who squealed with laughter.
The hot spring water stung at first, but her body adjusted quickly, and once it did…
'heaven'
Days of confusion on an almost mythic scale, constant worry, and yes, terror, from awakening in a cave, in a strange body, surrounded by strangers, melted away and were forgotten for a moment.
She floated on her back, gazing at the ceiling. Gold leaf stars against a deep blue background twinkled down, forming constellations she couldn't name. Looking more closely, she saw the roof was actually made up of many shutters. It confused her at first, until she figured it out-
'It opens!'
After floating for several more minutes without a thought in her head, Ashe managed to glance around at her 'bath', which looked less 'bath' and more 'indoor lake' to her. Lush vegetation, in summer green shades, filled a ballroom-sized enclosure. Swirls of steam rose from the water, forming dewy drops on the petals of exotic flowers sprinkled about here and there - hues of violets, deep blues, and rich velvet purples.
In the center of the pool she saw a small mini-island, and at the center of that stood a white marble statue, of a woman, wearing a toga draped over one breast, leaving the other naked. In her hand a cup. Upon her face, a smile of infinite mercy.
'The goddess Aana.'
As Aesh, she had never paid much attention to 'the gods'. They often seemed fickle to her, and some were downright cruel. So she placed her belief in alquimista studies, something she could understand, and touch, and trust.
But looking into the serene face of the goddess, Ashe toyed with the idea of praying to her, to beg her to change her body back.
'But that's stupid, since Isaura said Ymra did this to me.'
For fun, Ashe raised her leg the way she'd seen a female water dancer do at a water circus she'd seen as a child. She never tried it as Aesh, but as Ashe she wanted to see if she could. She raised her leg and pointed her toes to the ceiling.
'Heh! I can and, oh... wow…'
She couldn't help it, her leg - well, the leg that was hers for now - was smooth, toned, and glistened with wetness.
'Oh hells, that's sexy.'
As she stared at it longer, she started feeling other sensations, a tingling and hardening in her nipples.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you are getting turned on by your own body, Ashe."
"Ack!!!!"
Ashe spluttered and flailed about for a moment, even taking in water and coughing. She stood up in the waste deep water and turned to face Isaura. Who was also naked.
"Don't do that!" Ashe said, first glaring at, and then turning her eyes away from, the naked woman. Because – damn it! - she was stunning. Everything about the woman was alluring: teardrop breasts, curvy hips and heart-shaped butt, all misted in steam. For the first time since her awakening in the cavern, Ashe was glad she wasn't Aesh, because he would have been sporting the hardest erection ever.
"How long have you been there?" Ashe asked, covering her own breasts.
"Long enough. And I'd heard of the famed Ogdan prudishness, but I didn't expect it from you, especially with that foul mouth of yours."
"Fuck off, wanking shit sniffer," Ashe muttered under her breath, but did lower her hands to her side.
"Wanking what? Hahaha! Oh my goddess, you're wonderful! Try to remember, though, that I - as you - have Alarian hearing; I can hear every whispered mutter you make." Isaura took Ashe into her arms in a playful hug. "Now, let's finish our bath so we can have dinner. Piproos is preparing a feast."
"Finish? What's left? I feel cleaner than I have since...ever."
She did; the minerals in the water made her skin feel soft and supple in a way she'd never felt in her life.
"You haven't truly bathed until you've had a troop of Fefnoirs shampoo your hair and rub you down from head to toe with yang ling oil."
"You're ...serious?"
"Yes I am," Isaura said, laughing, and grabbing Ashe's hand. She pulled her toward a grotto where a dozen of the tiny Fefnoirs waited. They waved and cheered.
"You'd better hurry if you want to be done before Zinjo takes his bath. He'll be here soon, and naked, too. He draws quite a crowd of female Fefnoirs. It's a sight to see, actually."
"Why do they-"
Then it occurred to Ashe exactly why a troop of female Fefnoirs would want to see a naked giant.
"Oh gods! Let's hurry."
***
When Ashe returned to her bedroom, Pikwel was nowhere to be found.
"With the other Fefnoir girls, watching the Zinjo bathing show, I bet."
Ashe tried not picture it - the impish frolicsome gnome girls dancing around the naked giant as if he was the fertility god Odar. She wasn't sure if the image should offend her Ogdian morals, but it did make her giggle.
The clothing items the little Fefnoir had set out for her were easily found. Ashe held the gown up to her body.
"Seriously?"
She turned to look at her image in the full length mirror which stood near the vanity.
"Wait, mirror?" Ashe was almost certain it hadn't been in the room earlier. "Ugh! Curse Isaura and her nutsack wiping mirrors!"
"Still... with no one here but me…"
Ashe looked around to make sure there weren't any gnomes hidden about. Satisfied, she stepped before the mirror, and let her robe fall to the floor.
Ashe stood before it, looking at the young elf girl who stared back, first turning this way, then that.
Then she grew somber, and stared at her image.
"I've got to accept this, for now," she reasoned with herself. She wagged a finger at her image. "I don't see any way I'll be changed back soon, so suck it up! I'm part of a team, sort of, and I'm pretty sure Isaura and Zinjo share the same goal, to stop Breviar and those aiding him from unleashing hell on the Seven Kingdoms."
"So, I can't be all mixed up over who I am if I hope to help," Ashe said to the mirrored image, who mouthed the exact same words. "I'm going to stand here until you and I aren't strangers."
She stood that way for many long, silent minutes.
Until finally, softly, "This is me?"
Tentatively, she made a funny face, blowing her cheeks up like balloons. Then more, owl eyes, fish lips, sticking her tongue out. She giggled, spluttered, laughed.
Ashe stepped back a step; her hair had dried, and she ran her fingers through her silky black strands.
"So soft."
Her fingers traveled down from her hair, across her cheeks down the curve of her neck and then stopping on her right breast. Her fingertip circled her areola and nipple. Her eyes widened in wonder as goosebumps appeared and her nipple hardened. Her lips parted slightly and a soft "oh" escaped her lips.
Suddenly, she was no longer afraid, but curious; her fingers wanted to travel further, explore lower. She felt herself growing wet and tingly. And she knew exactly what was tingling too...
"my ... clit…"
...for anatomy had been one Aesh's best subjects at Edefia.
She sighed, in frustration this time, for she knew she needed to dress and hurry to dinner. She eyed the gown and heels again that Pikwel had left for her.
"I can do this."
Ashe started to dress but paused, looking at her image once more.
"This is me."
***
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, because I do."
Ashe scooted up to the dark oaken dining table in the seat opposite Isaura. Chandeliers filled with unlit candles hung overhead, and a massive centerpiece of exotic flowers from the inner garden had been placed in the table's center.
"You've found me out!" Isaura said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Er, which thing is it am I doing exactly?"
"You're not-so-subtle encouragements to 'explore' this, er, my ...new body."
"And how am I implementing this evil plan of mine?"
"Hmm, where to begin... the naked bath with sensuous oil massage…"
'Which,' Ashe admitted to herself, 'was heavenly.'
She'd wondered at the intense sensations that overloaded her mind and body. What accentuated it? Her new physique? Or had she just never taken the time to indulge her body as Aesh?
"...the full-length mirror you had Pikwel wheel in to my room…"
Ashe blushed in the remembering.
"...or maybe this little ‘see through’ number?"
She motioned to her spring green diaphanous gown. The golden rope wraps she wore over the gown for support only seemed to accentuate her breasts.
Isaura cast a critical eye over the results of her ploy. Though she wished Ashe had traditional Alarian waist length hair…
'...because she would look absolutely stunning…'
...in little more than three weeks hers had grown from rough cut to cute page boy bob. When added to the rich radiant sheen her midnight hair had from the exotic oils and berries the Fefnoirs washed it with, and the circlet of small purple flowers Pikwel weaved and placed on top, the effect was breathtaking. Ashe looked so much like Shea it made her heart ache.
"Everything you mentioned is within a completely normal evening routine for 'high elves', as you would say, so no hidden agenda there…"
'...except for the full-length mirror,' Isaura added mentally. She couldn't help but smile at Ashe's flushed complexion when the girl mentioned it.
'Mission accomplished. I told Pikwel to have the largest mirror in the manor moved into your room...'
"...but suppose I did have an agenda? Would it be so bad for you to explore a different culture, gender, or species for that matter? I thought Aesh the Alquimista was a scholar who loved knowledge in all forms."
"When you put it like that, you make me seem narrowminded-"
"-if the shoe fits…"
"-oh, thanks for reminding me - that's another thing! You had Pikwel set these out for me!" Ashe held up her small foot, upon which was a spring green sandal with a one inch heel, and matching wraparound ribbon that traveled up her leg. "High heels! Explain that?!"
"Again, traditional Alarian footwear for formal dining," Isaura thought it best not to correct the girl that one inch heels were called 'kitten heels' and not high at all.
"Fine. And no, I'm not against new experiences, but where does all this fit into helping to stop the fortuneteller's prophecy of death and doom?"
"No one is more aware of all that's in play and at risk than me," Isaura snapped. "Tomorrow we sail; we'll follow a pirate's ship to an unknown fort and face an enemy who-"
The sound of dozens of tiny voices singing wafted into the dining room; a procession of Fefnoirs, men in little tuxedos, women in gowns, marched. Leading the parade were Piproos and Peppenet: she was holding several wine glasses and he was carrying a dusty green bottle. Behind then followed the rest of the staff, and some carried platters of food. On one, steamed lemon grass mussels; a second, poached oysters with mushrooms and garlic; a third, deep fried potato wedges, seasoned with rosemary and onions; and a fourth, spring greens marinated in vinegar.
Others toted plates, cutlery, silver candelabras and candles.
"The plague has slowed the flow of food into Glesea," Isaura whispered, leaning over toward Ashe. "The Fefnoirs have been scrounging together this meal since our arrival. You will smile and you will enjoy it!"
"Yes, mommy," Ashe answered in an attempt to be funny.
And instantly knew she'd screwed up by the look of deep anguish that spread over Isaura's face.
"I'm so sorry! I was only trying to make a joke," Ashe blurted out, grabbing Isaura's hand, contrition written on her face. "A stupid idiotic joke. Please forgive me. I'm a fucking moron."
"Forgiven," Isaura said in between laughs - she couldn't help it, one second Ashe plunged her into crushing grief, the next she yanked her out of it - "but please try to keep that mouth under control! Try? The Fefnoirs aren't used to language that can make a sailor's ears bleed."
"Sailor's ears bleed? Seriously? That's an exaggeration," Ashe said.
"You speech is very salty, love. If not bleed, then at least make a sailor blush."
"Fine, I'll try not to hurt their dainty ears, but I doubt very seriously I'd make a sailor blush. And... my etiquette is pretty poor," Ashe whispered, "but isn't the dinner table set before the guests arrive?"
"You obviously have never been to a Fefnoir feast, since-"
Ashe never heard the rest of that sentence, because a noisy commotion erupted at the opposite dining room door: Zinjo had arrived, dressed in a black dinner jacket, a red tartan kilt, supple black leather knee high boots. A red sash draped across his massive chest, with a badge near his heart - an eight pointed star surrounding the Tree of Life.
Behind him trailed two dozen Fefnoir girls, swooning and sighing.
"Am I too late?" he asked, pulling up a massive seat clearly designed for his body and sitting next to Ashe.
"Just in time," Isaura answered, "for Piproos and Peppenet are soon to begin the toast. But first, I rather expect some singing. What Fefnoir meal would be complete without singing?"
On cue, the little people began singing, though Ashe couldn't make heads or tails of it:
Listen closely to the sound!
Who is this I hear?
Deep down in the ground?
Hacking and cracking the rocks and the stones?
Then, in a flurry of bewildering movement, the Fefnoirs tossed - juggled might have been a better word for it - plates, knives, forks, spoons, linen napkins, and even the candelabras onto the table. Ashe listened for cracking ceramic sounds, but none came.
Is it the squirrel scampering so?
Collecting acorns to and fro?
No! It’s not the squirrel!
Then…Who is this I hear?
Deep down in the ground?
Several of the Fefnoirs produced walking stilts, Ashe didn't see where from, and dancing and pirouetting about the table top, lit the chandelier candles as they spun.
Hacking and cracking the rocks and the stones?
Is it the giant so big and bold?
Stomping around in the winter cold.
NO! It’s not our Zinjo so big and bold!
Suddenly all movement and sound ceased. Ashe blinked, blinked again, and managed to resist the urge to rub her eyes - each knife, fork and spoon, every candle, platter and napkin -perfectly placed.
"Wow!"
"Wow indeed!"
"A toast!" Piproos and Peppenet shouted together, raising their wine glasses in the air.
Ashe noticed then, a wine glass with sparkling white wine had been placed before her. When she also noticed she was the only one in the dining hall to yet raise a glass, she snatched it and held it high.
Peppenet spoke first, "There are good ships, and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the sea..."
"...But the best ships are friendships," Piproos, finished, "and may they always be."
Everyone took a healthy swig, so Ashe did too. Zinjo cleared his throat with a rumble.
"Ve drink! to having only as much sorrows in life as drops left in glasses!" He drained his glass with one gulp. Everyone else was quick to do that, too, once they understood the toast.
"Very traditional Vloi toast," Isaura whispered to Ashe, before clinking her glass with a spoon. She raised her glass now.
"Wherever you go, and whatever you do, may the grace of the Alarians be there with you."
Ashe felt energy flow from Isaura throughout the room, and everyone gave a collective sigh of contentment, before taking another sip from their glasses. Somehow it had been refilled when Ashe wasn't looking. Ashe understood on a deeper level Isaura had just given a blessing to her beloved servants rather than a toast.
It was then that she saw all eyes were on her. Isaura leaned over again to whisper, "Your turn. It is good manners for a guest at a Fefnoir feast to offer a toast to her hosts. They enjoy light, short, funny but well-wishing ones."
'Well then, no pressure there.'
She held her glass high again and directed it at Piproos and Peppenet.
"May misfortune follow you the rest of your life..." Ashe said in as low a voice as she could muster in her new body. She paused dramatically, and some tiny Fefnoirs even gasped, before she added, "and... never... catch... up."
The Fefnoirs cheered, laughed and swigged another drink. Zinjo roared and guzzled several.
"Well done, you," Isaura said, still chuckling as she sat.
"Thanks, though a heads up about the toast would have been nice."
"I suppose, but as I'm learning every moment I spend with you, you are more than capable of holding your own, love. I'm starting to have faith in you, and your role in this."
Having no idea what the sorceress meant by that, Ashe shrugged and dove into the wondrously delicious food that sat before her, only stopping to breathe now and then.
***
"Sorry to say had no luck with ship. None remain, not even leaky dingy."
The most amazing seafood meal Ashe had ever eaten had been cleared, the praline and cinnamon ice cream devoured, and now Isaura, Ashe and Zinjo sat alone at the dining table. Having completed the dinner service, the Fefnoirs were now eating their dinner in their own dining hall. The Little People's singing drifted down the hallway still.
"What does that mean?" Ashe asked.
"Our plan was to follow the pirate ship with the compass to its final port, and there find who is unleashing these plagues, and stop them, permanently."
Ashe noticed Isaura's expression had turned hard, predatory.
"But without a ship, how will we follow them?"
"Iz Plan B," Zinjo said, tossing back the last of his wine. "Which, if witch woman remembers, did not work so well last time."
"I forgot one tiny detail!" Isaura said to Ashe. "He blows everything out of proportion!"
"A rudder iz not tiny detail! Anyway, I had materials delivered to a Kaits Cove, iz close to where they dock."
"Okay, so let's suppose you conjure a ship out of thin air-"
Isaura snickered.
"What?"
"Nothing, you'll see tomorrow. Sorry, go on."
"...and you follow them, and stop somehow the people who are holding the Seven Kingdoms hostage with diseases. Suppose you do all that. Do you think once you do, Ymra will be appeased, or happy or whatever ...and change me back?"
"I believe it's a real possibility," Isaura answered truthfully. "And the operative word here is 'we', for you've a role to play too. A huge one, I'm betting."
"Why would you think that?"
"Because Ailana Crow came to you; the fortune was yours."
"You keep referring to that like you were there," Ashe crossed her arms. "How do you know this?"
"Because I have looked into your memories. I watched the reading that way."
"What else do you know?" Ashe asked, her voice rising in alarm. "The missing weeks I can't remember, have you seen those? Do you know what happened to me?"
"Calm down, love." Isaura said, in a soothing tone. "I have seen some. I know what happened to you."
"As do I, leetle one," Zinjo said, his voice soft. He took her tiny hand into his huge paw. "Trust Zinjo. You are not wanting those memories."
"But... they're mine," Ashe whispered. "My memories."
"Yes, they are," Isaura answered, "but to possess them once more would kill you."
This confused the girl even more, for the way the sorceress spoke of them made it sound like she somehow had them.
'But how is that possible?'
Before she could think on it further, the sorceress distracted her, for from thin air - that's how it looked to Ashe - Isaura produced a tarot card deck, and began laying a spread on the table, naming them as she did.
"The Fool, Crow of Avarice, the Hierophant reversed, Black Magus, Devil of Corruption, the Wretched Suicide, the Goddess of Cauldrons, the Reborn One, The Yoke of Despair, the Queen of Wands, Temperance, Ace of Flames, Queen of Keys, and the Apple Tree of Healing."
"These are..." Ashe leaned over, her hand going to her mouth, "the exact cards Ailana Crow laid down!"
Isaura nodded. "You said they were gibberish when she laid them. Do they mean more now?"
Ashe's hand slowly traveled over the cards, stopping first at the Black Magus. "This, I thought, was a rogue alquimista, Breviar."
"Yes, also known as The Blood Burn Archanist. We'll discuss him in a few minutes. What of the other cards?"
"Devil of Corruption. Are these the plagues…?"
"...Yes, I agree. What else?"
"When the soothsayer laid the cards, I thought this one," her hand hovered over the Fool, "was me. But now I see it maybe wasn't."
"Right. In the first position, the Fool means the start of a journey or troubles or adventure." Isaura's voice gentled, "Which card does represent you, love?"
Ashe's hand quivered as she picked the Reborn One. "This one." After Isaura nodded, she placed it back in its place on the tarot spread and pointed to the next card.
"The Yoke of Despair. I have no idea what this card means, either when Ailana laid it, or now."
"We do," Isaura said softly. "In most readings the card may represent a seemingly hopeless burden one is bearing. However, as with the other cards in your reading, it is quite literal. And has already happened. Worry not of it. What of the others cards?"
"What has already..." Ashe quieted, and then gathered her thoughts. "No! What has happened? Tell me! It... something happened to me in those weeks that are a blank. You know!"
"We do, but..." Zinjo stopped to gather his own thoughts. Then he straightened in his chair. "Terrible things happen to leetle one in Imis before Isaura took you from there. And Zinjo means after you were transformed. A cruel enchanted device was placed on you; iz called... never mind its name, Zinjo won't speak it."
Zinjo spat upon the floor.
"It broke leetle one, ripped your beautiful mind apart. They torture you. Make you do things... I think it maybe kiill you."
The giant's face paled as he recalled memories he touched in the Cavern of Dearmad. He shook his head to clear it of the blackness.
"When Isaura put you back together in the Cavern, it was Zinjo who told witch woman to keep memories from you."
"Even if you hadn't told me to I wouldn't have-"
"-No!" Zinjo said, cutting Isaura off. "Have anger at Zinjo, leetle Ashe. Zinjo would not let you suffer again."
'Put me back together again? What the hells does that mean?' Once again, loads of information, coming way too fast.
"But who would do this to me," Ashe asked, lost again, "and... and why?"
"The 'who' is my sister, di'Sona Faeyra, First Advisor to Arch Duchess Myantha-"
"-th-the ruler of all the elves... I mean, the Alarian people? That Arch Duchess?" Ashe stammered.
Ashe, along with everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, knew Myantha's title of 'Arch Duchess' was a misnomer. As Alari was the most powerful of the Seven Kingdoms, Myantha was, by default, the most powerful ruler in the world. The Alarian clans, from the beginning of time, could never agree on designating any one clan to hold the title of Alarian 'king' or 'queen,' and so its rulers always took 'lesser titles.'
"Yes, my twisted little sister is the chief advisor to that Arch Duchess Myantha." Isaura paused, trying to decide how much more to tell Ashe. "And as to why, di'Sona thought you committed a horrific crime, and also suspected you were in league with those who are spreading these plagues. She used ...the device ...to make you talk."
"What... crime?" Ashe's stomach churned. Could she have done something horrible? How could she know? She remembered nothing.
"I won't... no... I can't say." Isaura's eyes teared. "di'Sona was wrong - you weren't responsible."
"Please!" Ashe's own eyes teared. She grabbed Isaura's hands. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry. It was horrible, I can see it in your eyes-"
"I'm begging you, Ashe, begging! If you have an ounce of compassion in you, please, please, please! Ask no more of this."
Even as she nodded 'yes', a thought occurred to her, of what she might have done. Killing was anathema to her; all life was sacred. The thought of killing even the animals she ate for sustenance troubled her for many years.
'I couldn't have done that... killed Shea, could I? I would never kill anyone!'
"'Kay. Um, other cards," Ashe said, catching Isaura's grateful look before looking down at the tarot again.
"Queen of Wands - you. Temperance - Zinjo-"
-Temperance ...Zinjo?" Isaura asked, with an expression on her face that Ashe could only read as 'you must be insane!'
"I'm sure I'm wrong. Until recently, I thought tarot cards were complete bullshit."
"No, no, go on," Isaura said. "Let me hear your thinking."
"First, there are the two cups the angel is pouring," Ashe said, after picking the card up to look at it closely. "Measuring the right amount."
"To an alquimista, measuring, balancing, getting the perfect mixture is what we do. Zinjo, to me, is perfect mixture of strength and intelligence. And second," Ashe blushed a soft pink. "I feel like he is my guardian angel."
"Aaaw, leetle one make me blush too." The giant rose, then bowed, "I vill protect you always."
"Actually, you may be right," Isaura said, looking at the spread once more. "It is a most unusual reading. The cards tell us far more about who the players are, than what may happen. Crow of Avarice, the Hierophant reversed - this person is driven by greed, one who doesn't think rules apply to her. I say 'her' because I think this is the sorceress who placed the three wizards under geases. For some reason, I feel I should I know her."
"The man whom you have called Breviar, is the rogue now known as The Blood Burn Archanist," the sorceress continued. "Then we have cards representing you, me, now Zinjo too... I'm not sure what to make of the Queen of Keys. Do either of you know?"
"No, iz mystery to me," Zinjo said, shaking his head. "I once know Queen of Keese, but she die many centuries ago."
"Me neither, I-" Ashe paused as Zinjo's words sunk in. 'Hells! How old is he????' "-um... the 'King of Keys' is a title used by alquimistas to describe someone who is the best at solving puzzles..."
Ashe continued studying the tarot spread, looking at 'the Wretched Suicide’ card.
"But who is the..."
Ashe stopped her lips before they uttered 'the Wretched Suicide', because she had a sickening feeling it was Shea, and somehow Ashe was involved in her death.
So instead she moved her hand over the center card and said "...goddess?"
"She is at the center of this," Isaura replied. "Ymra, I believe. She is often pictured holding her cauldron of transformation. di'Sona invoked her name and then you were changed..."
Isaura leaned back in her chair and threw up her arms. "This is maddening!"
"I'll say!" Ashe agreed.
"No, I meant it differently than you. You think this is crazy-"
"-It is!"
"-but I think it's frustrating," Isaura continued. "We know much about the 'who', some about the 'what' but precious little the 'when' and 'how.' We don't even know if the goddess supports or opposes us."
"What do you mean?" Zinjo asked.
"What if Ashe was supposed to stop Blood Burn as Aesh, using alquimista skills. What if Ashe can't because of her change?"
"Do you... do you think that's true?" Ashe squeaked more than asked.
"I don't think so; my intuition tells me no, but how do we know for sure?" Isaura asked. "That's why I called it maddening."
"Where does this lead us then?" Zinjo asked with a yawn.
"It leads us to bed, old friend," Isaura said, smiling, "we've a big day tomorrow, so let's enjoy a good night’s sleep."
On cue, the Fefnoirs reappeared, Pikwel beside Ashe's chair, and a troop of giggling female Fefnoirs next to Zinjo.
"I'm to show you to your room, Mistress Ashe," Pikwel said, "and turn back your covers."
"And we're here to help you, Master Zinjo," the gaggle of Fefnoirs girls chimed in unison to the giant.
Ashe could read the desire in her young Fefnoirs’ eyes - she wanted to join her friends who helped Zinjo.
"He's a very big fellow," Ashe said to Pikwel. "Your friends could use an extra hand for sure. I'll be fine."
"Don't encourage them, leetle one!" the giant said, a note of desperation creeping into his tone. "Last time after I disrobe, they refused to give me sleepwear. They made me chase them around for an hour!"
Giggles erupted from the Fefnoirs.
"Yes, Pikwel, help the others with Zinjo, please. I need Mistress Ashera to come to my room for a bit. I have a favor to ask of her."
"Your wish is my command, Mistress," Pikwel said, and rushed to join her friends.
"I will not strip my clothes unless you promise to give me my sleepwear first, "Zinjo said.
"Then we'll tear them off you!" one Fefnoir shouted.
"Yes!" the rest agreed, and gathered round the giant, casting very predatory looks.
"We'd better hurry!" Isaura stood up and beckoned to Ashe. "This might start happening right here."
Ashe bounced up and hurriedly followed Isaura out of the dining room. She could have sworn she heard ripping sounds as they walked down the hallway to Isaura's bedroom.
***
Isaura asked Ashe to wait while she changed into a nightgown. While Isaura was in her walk-in closet, Ashe glanced around the bedroom.
It was much like her own, with rich tapestries on the wall and a canopy bed. Except on the hearth over the fireplace, a strange crystal lay on its side, with swirling colors of black and white. Ashe felt drawn to it - it seemed so familiar. She wanted to touch it, and started to take a step toward it.
"I'm back, sweetie."
When she turned to face the sorceress, well, Ashe wasn't sure what she expected, maybe something like the flannel gowns she used to see on her mother and sister.
"What is that?"
"What is what?"
"What you're wearing!"
What the sorceress wore, to Ashe, looked ethereal and airy; a semi-sheer white garment that fell from Isaura's shoulders to her ankles. It did very little to cover Isaura's long lean body.
"It's called a 'nightgown.'
"If you say so."
The sorceress had let her hair down too. Since Ashe had awakened in the cave four days ago...
'Only four days? That already seems so long ago...'
...she only ever seen Isaura's shimmery black hair wrapped in a bun. Now it flowed down her back to her waist. Standing before her, in the glow of nearby candles, with her dark eyes, soft red lips and exquisite pointed ears, Ashe decided that without question, Isaura was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She suddenly realized she was staring, and looked at the floor.
"I keep forgetting you are a very male-thinking Alarian teenage girl," Isaura laughed.
Ashe blushed hotly. "Um, you mentioned a favor?"
"Mmhm, follow me please."
Isaura led the girl to a vanity table and sat. She picked up a silver hairbrush and turned to look at Ashe. Once more, Ashe had trouble describing Isaura's expression; she'd not seen anything like it on the woman's face. It was a mixture of longing, crushing sadness and ...hope? She looked so very vulnerable.
"When Shea was... when we traveled together back before... I... each night we used to... it was our time together, our special ritual ...and you look so much like... I wondered if..."
Isaura's words failed her and tears pooled in her eyes. Before she could completely break down, Ashe took the brush from her hand.
"Of course I'll brush your hair."
Rather than starting at the top, Ashe held Isaura's hair in the middle with one hand, making a kind of ponytail out of it. Then with gentle strokes she started by brushing out the ends of Isaura's hair, working out any knots. Being careful not to pull, she began working her way toward Isaura's scalp, one segment at a time.
"You've done this before," Isaura sighed.
"Yes," Ashe smiled, remembering, as she brushed, "I used to do this for my little sister."
"Oh! How thoughtless of me," Isaura said. "She must be worried sick for you. We can have Piproos send word you are okay... er sort of okay. Alive."
"No, that's not necessary."
"The rest of your family then? Mother? Father?"
"No." Ashe's voice was barely a whisper.
Isaura was silent for several moments pondering that answer. Then it came to her. Aesh was from Ogda, which was ravaged by the Black Death about twelve years ago.
"Oh honey, not the Black Death? Not all of them?"
"Mama, Papa," Ashe said, "my older brothers, Aidan and Glyn, and my sister, Catelyn."
Isaura turned and hugged the girl tightly. She guessed Aesh would have been about eight when he lost everyone dear to him.
"I'm so sorry."
"It was a long time ago," Ashe said, "s'okay."
They were both quiet for a long while after that, each lost in their pain. Ashe pulled away and began brushing again, until...
"It's why I wanted to become an Alquimista Master," she said, "I wanted... to find cures for diseases, to preserve life, to make sure no one else suffered...
'...the way I did...' Isaura heard it, even though the girl didn't voice it. Yet unwittingly she had taken Shea's life.
'She must not know, ever' Isaura thought; she saw now it would devastate her.
"Switch," Isaura said, standing.
"What?"
"Your turn," Isaura said. "Let me brush your hair."
"You don't need to..."
"Move."
"No, really." Ashe touched the back of her head; her midnight black hair barely reached her neck. "I don't have any to brush!"
"Hush," Isaura said, sitting Ashe in her vanity seat. She leaned her face next to Ashe's, and in the vanity mirror, they looked for all the world like mother and daughter.
"Hush, love."
***
Chapter 5 - Bad memories
Once they left Celemiril Manor, and onto the streets of Glesea, the gloomy unnatural mist closed in again. They heard the wails and screeches of pain of those afflicted by the Wasting, and they had the vague feeling of being surrounded by ghosts.
Isaura felt the magic spell fueling the dreary fog. She could dispel it easily enough, but for now the cover it provided served their purpose as well. She would be using powerful magical energy this morning, and wanted no unwelcome eyes watching.
"You okay, Ashe?" Isaura asked, as their carriage wound its way through the market district. Isaura had parked her beloved gypsy wagon at the manor. Zinjo had left the manor before Ashe had awoken. Isaura said he'd left early to take care of some mysterious preparations.
"Yes, better than okay."
Ashe smiled; for the first time since she'd awoken in the cavern, she felt a tiny bit like her old self. She clutched the wooden box in her hands.
"Thanks again." Isaura surprised her before they left her house this morning. The sorceress instructed Piproos and Peppenet to gather a typical 'alquimista kit'; the sorceress had several alquimista tomes in her library which listed its contents. She knew Ashe's kit must have been taken from her in Imis, and thought the girl would feel more grounded with something familiar at her side.
Now the girl happily clutched a small leather box full of clippers, stoppers, syringes, mortar and pestle, and twenty or so pouches and vials full of solutions and powders.
"You can pay me back in information. While we track The Havock on the open sea, you and I are going to have a lot of time to discuss The Blood Burn Archanist and the evil he is capable of. I want you to be thinking of all you remember of him, because even the smallest detail may be helpful."
"You mean as we sail on the non-existent boat?" Ashe said with a grin. "I'll be ready."
"Cheeky girl," Isaura smiled back. "You'll see."
Ashe was as lost today as when they arrived in Glesea, for the fog made getting her bearings impossible. Peppenet drove the carriage with confidence through what seemed to Ashe to be solid gray wall, and when she smelled the sea, she figured they'd arrived. Somewhere.
"Ho, Mistress," Peppenet, called from atop the carriage, "Kaits Cove. Your supplies are in the crate by the beach."
"Let's go, Ashe," Isaura said, "show time."
Ashe looked about after she stepped out; to her left, she could see something solid through the fog - the outline of the city wall. To her right, through the wispy fog, she thought she might have seen the wooden docks in a nearby cove.
"Do not wait so long to come again, Mistress," Peppenet said, "we miss you."
"And I you," Isaura said. "Give my love to Piproos."
"An... an... Mistress Ashe? My apologies for mistaking you for your sister. Please come back soon. It's your house too, ya know."
On impulse, Ashe bounced up the carriage step and gave the small man a kiss on the cheek.
"Pass that on to Pikwel for me, Peppenet."
"Awwww... I surely will." Even in the mist, Ashe saw him smile and blush. "Heeah Sugarmane, heeah Dandy, let's go home."
"A kiss on his cheek? Interesting," Isaura said as they watched the fog swallow the moving carriage.
"How so?"
"A very feminine impulse, if you ask me," Isaura said. "Or did Aesh the Alquimista wander the streets of Edefia smooching the cheeks of all he met?"
"Hey, I could have! What's wrong with that?" Ashe said. "Not only people either. I used to kiss any dogs I ran into, too. They called me 'Aesh the Dog Smoocher.'"
"Aesh the Dog Smoocher? Hahahahaha!"
Aesh almost jumped out of her boots - she was wearing supple thigh high leather boots Pikwel brought her this morning, in addition to her leggings, tunic and robe - when a looming giant figure appeared out of the mist.
"Don't do that, Zinjo!" Isaura said, "you'll scare us to death!"
"Zinjo iz sincerely sorry," the giant said with an elaborate bow. The tone in his voice told Ashe he wasn't sorry at all.
“Pay back is a bitch, Zingo,” Ashe said, smiling wickedly.
“Ha! As if leetle one could ever scar Zinjo! Now, as you asked, I have gathered the wood, pitch and nails," Zinjo said. "Must hurry. The Havock arrived one hour ago and ransom is being delivered. Soon they will give antidote, raise anchor and leave."
Ashe's eyes followed where Zinjo pointed; on cue, the mists parted, revealing stacks and stacks of long wood planks, barrels full of wooden pegs, and an enormous metal bucket filled with gooey black stuff.
"Wait! We're going to build a boat?"
"Not we, me," Isaura said. "You get to watch and be amazed and awed. Oh, Zinjo will help out a tiny bit with the pitch."
"Best stand back, leetle one, when iz like this, she needs much room."
"Because of all the, um, building?" Ashe knew she sounded stupid, but she was still trying to work out what was happening.
"No, because her ego grows so big, it leaves little room for others," Zinjo said.
"Funny. First Ashe, now you. I suppose you two are simply incapable of appreciating my awesomeness."
"I need you to watch the dial and let me know if it moves." Isaura handed Ashe her compass. "Can you do that?"
"I'm fully certified to operate an andipose," Ashe answered, taking the magically altered compass from the sorceress, "so I'm pretty sure I can."
"An andipose whatsit?" Isaura said, shaking her head. "Never mind, I'll take that as a 'yes'. Let me know the moment the dial moves."
Isaura turned to face the stacks of planks, her wand in her right hand.
"Reka."
Planks flew forty feet up and hovered there.
"Ra'mrl"
Isaura concentrated, and the planks began assembling plank to plank. At first, Ashe didn't know what the planks were doing, but after more and more joined, she understood:
'They're forming into a hull!'
Isaura pointed her wand at the barrels.
"Reka.'
Streams of pegs swirled into the air to hover.
"Na'auc."
Down they flew, pounding into the individual planks, fastening them together.
Planks and pegs joined at a dizzying pace; Ashe thought she saw the keel forming on the bottom of the hull, guessed the tall vertical pole was the mast, but soon she lost track, the flurry of movement was simply too fast.
Isaura paused briefly and nodded at Zinjo, who sucked in a long, long breath, and blew on the metal bucket that held the pitch. Ashe had to step away, because the air blasting from his lips against the metal was hair-singingly hot. The metal soon glowed red.
'Clearly, I have much to learn about Zinjo, too,' Ashe thought in wonder.
When the pitch started to bubble, Isaura pointed her wand at it:
"Reka"
A thin stream of black goo rose, controlled by the sorceress' wrist movements.
"A'oa"
The stream sprayed downward, spreading out into the fore, aft and center of the hull.
'Shit, she's sealing it!'
Isaura returned to the remaining planks and pegs that floated in the air once the pitch was applied, waving her wand, and they began assembling again, into a cabin, then deck above, and finally railings.
After several more minutes, Ashe's mouth simply fell open, in awe and amazement. For floating forty feet above the ground was a one hundred foot long sailing ship.
"Rfail"
With a flick of her wrist, the ship began spinning slowly. Ashe saw that Zinjo was looking closely at the hull, examining each plank.
"Finished?" Isaura asked.
"I think... iz good."
"Iz good?" Isaura said with a laugh, pointing her wand at the ship again. "Iz very good."
"Ruwas"
The ship lowered slowly into the water to float just offshore.
"Well?" she looked at Ashe with a smug smile.
"Iz fucking amazing!" Ashe whispered.
***
Even with Isaura's 'instant ship', there was plenty of work needed to get underway: rigging the sail, fixing the helm, attaching the anchor, and unpacking supplies. Yet that came together quickly too.
'It never hurts to have a sorceress and giant about.' Ashe mused, as she sat at the bow watching Zinjo test the rigging.
After Isaura had finished, she had ask the sorceress why, if she could create a huge boat from magic, couldn't she change her body back. Isaura explained that for all the size and wonder of it, there were only two components to the ship, wood, and pitch.
She then asked Ashe. “How many components were there to the body?” As Ashe began figuring out the dizzying number involved with the circulation system alone, she had her answer - the components, the variables involved with a body were infinitely more complex than their magic ship. It really was going to take a god or goddess to change her back.
Ashe glanced down at the compass in her hand again, and saw its needle bouncing off the degree it had been fixed on.
"It's moving," Ashe shouted, and stood.
"Point to where the needle is pointing," Zinjo shouted back, tying off the last of the ropes.
"It's moving ...moving... there!" Ashe pointed with her hand to the mouth of the cove.
"The Havock has put to sea," Zinjo said as he joined Isaura at stern, taking the helm in his hands.
'How?' wondered Ashe. 'There is no wind, and this fog sits here heavy and dank.'
"Well then, we should too," Isaura said, pointing her wand. "Here goes nothing."
"Bra'll"
With a -pop- the sail grew taut, and the ship scraped off the shallow sand and into deeper water. Zinjo spun the helm first one way, then another.
"She's responsive; you've done well, witch woman."
"Well, bother," Isaura said; Zinjo's words reminded her of something. "I've forgotten one thing."
"Iz most complete," the giant said, frowning. "What could you be forgetting?"
"Hopefully nothing important," Ashe added, joining them.
"It's the most important thing of all," Isaura said. "A name. Give her one, love."
"A name? Why me?"
"Because this is our ship, it belongs to the three of us, and this will be your contribution."
Ashe thought about that, and nodded her agreement. She had never known a ship to be unnamed. Maybe it was bad luck not to have one.
She kicked around several different names, such as 'Gypsea', in honor of Isaura's gypsy wagon, or something funny like 'Thar She Floats'. But finally, she thought the name should be about their journey. What they were doing.
'And what are we doing? Trying to change me back to Aesh?'
She longed for that, but that was not what this journey was about. Ashe, more than anyone, knew what was at risk. For it was she who uncovered the professor's notes in what now seemed years ago.
'This is not about me.'
People suffered terribly across the Seven Kingdoms from the Wasting plague, reminding her of the horrors of that other plague, which took from her all she loved. And the plague was the least of it. If Breviar, or Burn Blood, - that sick name for him seemed all too appropriate - was to produce his serum and release it, the world would feel death such as it had never seen.
Their entire focus must be to stop this tragedy, using all the knowledge and power Isaura and Zinjo possessed. Yet some voice deep within told her that knowledge and power alone could not do this; against such evil, they would need mercy and compassion if they hoped to prevail.
'Hmm, knowledge ... compassion ...hope ...that sounds like ...the goddess Aana.'
"How about... 'The Hope of Aana'?"
Isaura looked first at Zinjo with wide-eyed surprise, and then back to Ashe. She ran to the shorter girl and hugged her fiercely, tears forming in her eyes.
"For all I've done today, your idea surpasses it, I think. The goddess must be our star above to guide us,
if we hope to succeed."
"The Hope of Aana, she is!"
***
"Thank the gods for Zinjo!"
The cabin Isaura had conjured below deck was little more than four walls and a ceiling; the 'little more' being two rough bunk beds and scratchy wool blankets for warmth and padding. Sure, she missed the soft downy bed she'd slept in at Celemiril, but at this moment, as the The Hope of Aana tossed from wave to wave, she was so glad the giant had rigged a belt into her bunk to stop prevent her from bouncing off the walls.
Isaura was in a deep sleep in the bunk above her - the magical shipbuilding had taken its toll - and Zinjo had the helm, guiding the ship through the storm…
"Oh hahahahahaha! I am heeeeere! Come and get meeeeee!!!!"
...which he absolutely loved. She heard him now, daring the lightning to strike him.
And the storm obliged, sending a lightning bolt crackling nearby, followed by a thunder roar.
"Serene Sea? Ha! What fart dog named it that? And why couldn't we have a calm beautiful moonlit night with the Small Anvil constellation twinkling overhead and the wondrous Rana Borealis shimmering on the western horizon?" Ashe moaned.
Those wishes were dashed when The Hope of Aana cleared the unnatural fog, and encountered this storm. Which Isaura said was also magically generated. She believed wizards or weather mages on The Havock had cast it to discourage any pursuit. Isaura could easily dispel it, but not without tipping their prey off that they were being followed.
"How the fuck can Isaura sleep through this?!" Ashe wondered aloud when yet another wave rolled her into the wall.
She heard a scooching noise and saw Isaura's pack had wiggled free from the ropes fastening it to the wall. Some of its contents were loose on the floor, including several strange looking crystals, a few pinkish ones, a pitch black one, and the gray pulsing crystal she'd seen the night before in Isaura's room.
"Well, crap!"
Ashe unbuckled the belt holding her in. She couldn't let Isaura's stuff scatter everywhere; who knew what a sorceress kept hidden away, maybe even another boat! Also, her hands itched to touch that crystal ever since she'd seen it.
She hopped onto the cabin floor, swayed as another wave rolled the ship, dropped to her hands, and crawled over to the stones. Ashe wrapped her hands around the gray one.
'Something's wrong!' Isaura bolted upright in her bunk, knocking her head against the ceiling. "Ow."
She tried to shake the drowsiness from her head, taking a quick inventory - she felt no magic other than her own, so not under attack. The ship felt like it was still in one piece. She glanced around the dark cabin, and saw…
"No! Ashe! Drop that!"
The sorceress unbuckled herself from the bed and leaped down, ran to the girl, and yanked the Cabrcon crystal - which no longer pulsed black and white but now was its original neutral pink - from her hands. Ashe's memory of her meeting with Shea had been restored.
"I killed her."
"You didn't mean to..." Isaura answered, not liking what she saw in Ashe's eyes. "You didn't want to."
"Your daughter." Ashe focused on Isaura. "You must hate me!"
"No, no... please, sweetie, come back over to your bed and let's talk about this."
"I became an alquimista to save lives," Ashe whispered, looking at her hands in horror. "Instead I'm a murderer!"
She sprang up and scrambled up the ladder, knocked open the latch and ran on deck.
"Wait, Ashe!" Isaura shouted, and followed as fast as she could.
When she climbed on deck, she saw Zinjo standing at the railing and no sign of Ashe.
"Take the helm, and circle," the giant said, scanning the choppy sea.
"What? Why? And where is Ashe?"
"Overboard," the giant answered, as he jumped over the rail.
***
Ashe's story will conclude in Memory and Memories - Part 3
Memory and Memories - Part 3
by Armond
***
"I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do!"
"Talk to her. Iz only way."
"But what shall I say to her? To get through? She won't talk!"
They turned and looked at her; Ashe was tied to the base of the mast, her head slumped over. She'd tried to jump overboard twice since Zinjo fished her from the sea.
"Talk to her about Shea."
"Why? What good will come of that?"
"For once... for once! Take my advice, and do it
Isaura started to say something, and then stopped. Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded. She walked from the stern to the mast, where the girl was bound.
The storm had passed. A lot of magical energy was required to keep one like that going; Isaura could only imagine how exhausted the wizard or wizards on The Havock must be. She supposed they must feel no one followed them now.
After several hours of travelling south, The Havock turned and now sailed due east. Only two kingdoms lay in the direction, the Keoba Dynasty, and their home country, Alari. Isaura had a sick feeling in her stomach about which one they were bound for.
"Are you thirsty?" Isaura asked.
Ashe didn't answer. Isaura watched her face. She'd seen the girl dulled senseless by the Torc, even seen her emptied of all memories. Her expression wasn't like either of those now: full of hurt, anguish, guilt and very much alive.
"My Sheala was such a happy baby. She cried so little, I thought there might be something wrong with her."
Isaura saw Ashe's head raise ever so slightly; she had her attention.
"Shea never knew her father. I'm not sure who he is myself. I celebrated particularly hard one Beltane, and came away pregnant. So it was just the two of us. I dragged her around the world so much that my poor little girl never had many friends. We became each other's best friend. I miss her. Gods and goddesses, my soul hurts for her."
"I'm so sorry," Ashe whispered.
"She and I had a terrible falling out three years ago. I had so hoped we'd reconcile, that I could tell her how much I loved her. You killed her. Ended my Shea's life. Now I'll never have that chance."
"I know! Gods damn it, I know, and you keep stopping me from-"
"-from what, jumping in the sea again? Goddess, what a coward you are."
"What would you have me do!!??" Ashe shouted.
"Accept it! Own it! You didn't mean to, you didn't want to, and tried your hardest not to, but you did it."
"How do I 'own it'?! What does that even fucking mean?"
"It means," Isaura grabbed Ashe's face, “do your duty! Zinjo and I need you."
"Not if it means killing again. I can't! Lay a geas on me to stop me. I'd even wear the Torc thingy again if it stopped me from-"
"-if you ever say something that idiotic again I will slap you silly," Isaura growled. "Your mind is so incredible, and so beautiful! I'm beginning to see how wonderful it is. I almost destroyed it in the Cavern out of revenge. I have to own that."
"And I have to own this? That I did something that cuts against everything I believe?" Ashe asked. "Because that's really fucked up."
"Yes, it is. Fucked up. What of it?”
“WHAT OF IT??? What do you mean, what of it?” Ashe screamed.
“Boo hoo. Poor me. Poor Ashe.” Isaura’s voice was cutting. “You say you are crushed by my daughter’s death at your hand. You say you believe all life is sacred.”
“I-it is!”
PROVE IT!”
“P-prove it?” Ashe’s voice quivered. “How?”
“By not letting her death be in vain. Shea gave her life trying fighting the very thing we now fight. Shall we quit when things get tough? And let loose a plague upon the world the likes of which has never been seen? You know well what suffering this will bring, for you have lost your family to just such a thing…”
“Yes… yes…” Ashe wept softly, “I know…”
“I’m going to untie you now. You can jump off the ship again,” Isaura said. “You can lay down in a ball on the deck and whimper. Or…”
“Or?”
“Finish the mission Aesh of Ogda started, and save lives. Save life. Do you need more time to wallow in self-pity, Ashe of Alaria? Or Are. We. Good?"
"We … we are… I… I'll think about it. But… I promise, I won't try to off myself… for now," Ashe said.
“Good,” Isaura said with relief. For she sensed she had finally gotten through to the stubborn girl whom she now found herself loving so dearly.
"And …could you kind of hurry with the knots? I'm freezing and starving and really, really have to pee."
***
The sun set low, only half above the horizon line, sending orange rays into the winter sky, and orange ripples across the water.
True to her word, Ashe tried no more suicide attempts that day, but now she stood at the very tip of the bow of The Hope of Aana.
"Should we be worried?" Isaura asked Zinjo; both were at the helm and both watched the girl closely.
Ashe turned to look at them, her black hair fluttering in the breeze, with a look of rapture on her face that only a sunset at sea can bring.
"I don't think leetle girl go for any more swims. Your tough love talk - which was not talk Zinjo had in mind - worked. But, is this not other problem, or mystery? Vhat to make of this?"
Isaura knew what the giant meant without asking him to explain; with a smile on her face and the sun setting behind her, the image made Isaura's heart ache.
"Why? Why did Ymra make her look so much like Shea? I have to catch myself from calling her ‘Sheala’ more and more. You're the only living being I know who has been in Ymra's presence. Why did she do this?"
"Ymra was laying waste to mountain range that day and vasn't in talkative mood," Zinjo answered. He held a telescope up to his eye, and then handed it to the sorceress. "Ho! Ve have other problems."
Looking through the telescope, she saw several tri-mast slopes that had appeared on the horizon; their flags were a white outline of an arm, holding a cutlass, against a black background.
"Pirates!" Isaura said. "Are they in league with Captain Angove, or are they-"
"-stealing from him?" Zinjo finished her sentence.
One of the ships fired a warning shot across The Havock's bow.
"That answered that question," Isaura said.
"What's going on?' Ashe said, joining the two at the helm.
"The Havock is under attack," Isaura said. She handed Ashe the telescope. "It seems some of Captain Angove's brethren wish to relieve him of his cargo."
"We can't let that happen!" Ashe said, handing the telescope back to Zinjo. "The ransom has to be delivered so we can follow it to those behind these plagues!"
"Agreed," Isaura said, pulling her wand from her robe. "They'll know we are here if I blast the pirates and-"
"Wait!" Zinjo said. "Something ...bubbles ...next to Havock."
"I just felt a magic burst, too. What are these fools up to?"
The sorceress raised her arms, saying:
"nerlaillirr"
The air in front of them shimmered, forming into a clear disk shape, magnifying the view so they could see what happened with The Havock and the other ships without the need of telescope.
A pool of bubbles formed next to The Havock, growing larger each moment. On The Havock's deck several robe figures pointed wands downward at the pool. Though she couldn't hear their words, Isaura knew what they were saying.
"A summoning! Goddess preserve us, these fools summon something from the depths!"
On cue, two humps broke the surface and began weaving between the ships. Next a massive flippered tail rose and smacked the ocean surface so hard, they heard it clearly on the The Hope of Aana half a league away.
Finally a snake-like head rose, its mouth gaping, showing double rows of sharp jagged teeth. The monster roared.
One of the pirate ships fired a cannonball at the creature, the ball striking near one of the creature's humps.
"Oh! Iz bad move, I think."
"Why?" Ashe whispered. Her eyes had widened when the creature's massive scaly head broke the water's surface.
"Because-"
The serpent roared again, louder, and sent its tail crashing down on the deck of the pirate ship that fired, splintering its railing and knocking down two of its masts.
-because that," Zinjo finished his sentence.
"Just what the wizards wanted," Isaura said.
A second ship fired on the creature, as did the third. Meanwhile, through Isaura's magnified lens, they saw the robed wizards of The Havock point their wands at their sails. Wizard wind snapped the sails taut and The Havock began to skim across the sea's surface.
"Summoning such creatures from the ocean depths is always foolish. It is impossible to control them, so the gamble is to point what you've summoned at your enemies, and run away. Sometimes it works, and sometimes the creature attacks the summoner instead."
The creature's tail smashed down upon the first pirate ship's deck again, this time splitting the vessel in two.
"Iz working this time," Zinjo said.
"I'd better deal with it now, or all those men will perish," Isaura said.
Already they saw through the magnified air lens the encounter had turned bloody and deadly; the serpent swooped down on the second ship with its maw open, snapping up sailors as it did and crushing them in its teeth.
"No! Still too close to Havock. They feel your magic when you do. Call the beast to us, that will draw less attention, yes? I vill take care of snake."
"They are far enough away now they shouldn't sense a summoning," Isaura said.
And indeed, The Havock had nearly disappeared from sight, even through Isaura's magical lens.
"But, are you sure you wish to do this?"
"Has been a while. Good to stretch muscles every so often, witch woman."
With that, Zinjo bounded to the railing and jumped over the side. Isaura hurried to the railing too; she pointed her wand at the creature.
"Suna du na, ssaedisa ull dha naaf"
The gigantic sea snake stopped its attack on the second pirate ship - its hull was already breached and taking on water - and turned toward The Hope of Aana. It roared and began swimming fast to them.
"Isaura! What is he doing?" Ashe said, looking at the spot where Zinjo dove under water. "There is no way he can fight that thing! You'd better do something, even if they feel it on The Havock."
The serpent slithered through the sea at an incredible pace, and within moments it neared The Hope of Aana.
"Um, Ashe, sweetie, there is one more thing I need to tell you about Zinjo. When I call him giant, I don't just mean 'big guy.' You see, he actually is an honest to gods-"
With a woosh, a towering figure burst through the water, in front of the serpent.
"-giant."
Though his legs were below the sea's surface, by Ashe's quick estimate, he stood close to 100 feet tall. He roared at the serpent, and with eyes blazing red, fists clenched, chest arm and abs bulging, the raging colossus looked nothing at all like the gentle friend she had grown to know over the past days. Only his silver beard, wet and blowing in the wind, seemed familiar.
The serpent hissed and lunged at him, and the giant dove to meet it, grabbing it by its throat. The serpent's tail slithered around the giant's torso, and they fell together under the water's surface in an enormous splash. For several anxious minutes, the sea roiled from the thrashing battle, sending waves crashing into The Hope of Aana, tossing the craft to and fro; Ashe gripped the rail tight, while Isaura hung on to the helm wheel.
The sea calmed. The Hope of Aana steadied.
A hand grasped a railing. A normal Zinjo-sized hand. Then another.Zinjo's head appeared, then he swung over and landed on the deck, all eight feet and four hundred pounds of him.
Ashe took one look at him, and scrambled down the hatch to the cabin.
"Iz too much for her," Zinjo looked stricken, as he stood shivering. "I scare her now too?"
"We've been together so many years, it's easy to forget how unusual and miraculous that is," the sorceress said. "But I think you underestimate her ability to-"
The cabin hatch slapped open and Ashe climbed up, carrying blankets. She handed them to the shivering giant.
"You must be freezing!"
Zinjo wrapped one blanket around his waist, and another around his shoulders. A goofy smile - one of relief - was on his face.
"I thought leetle Ashe vould be scared of me now."
She gave him his answer by hugging him.
"I was scared for you. You were underwater for so long. What happened?"
"I didn't want kill beast, not hiz fault nasty wizards call him," Zinjo said stroking her hair. "After we wrestled a bit, we reach agreement, I let go and he swim back to deeper waters."
"Good! I'm glad about that."
"I must go sleep now, leetle one," Zinjo yawned. "When I change like that need much rest."
"I can imagine," Ashe said, stepping back. "Er, that was a figure of speech, I can't actually imagine. That was amazing!"
Zinjo nodded, and stumbled to and down the cabin hatch, the fatigue hitting hard.
"He'll be out for a long while," Isaura said. She turned to look across the sea.
The Havock was long gone. She spoke nerlaillirrre, and the lens appeared before them again. The sea was filled with wreckage, the men clinging to it, and bodies. Shark fins had begun to poke above the surface. Of the three attack ships, only one - listing though it was - appeared intact.
"We'd better go see to the survivors." Isaura said.
"We'd better hurry," Ashe replied, watching the number of shark fins multiply.
"Bra'll"
The sails snapped taut and Isaura steered The Hope of Aana sped toward the helpless sailors.
As they approached, Isaura waved her wand and spoke words that caused the remaining ship to right itself. Ashe wasn't sure exactly what the sorceress had done but if she had to guess it was to add a huge air bubble to the pirate ship's hull. The men began swimming to it and climbing aboard.
They picked up several sailors who had drifted away from the main body; Ashe was tending to some of their injuries using first aid supplies the Fefnoirs had and by using antiseptic potions from her alquimista kit. Neither blood nor injuries troubled her, as her alquimista studies major had been in healing methods.
At the helm, Isaura interrogated the first mate of one of the ships, trying to learn basic information of who they were, and why they attacked The Havock. Was it pure coincidence the pirates attacked the ship carrying the largest known treasure, or did they have prior knowledge? She kept an eye on the sailors Ashe tended to make sure they gave her no trouble.
"So, this arm is broken," Ashe said to one, as she tied a sling off at his shoulder. Then she pulled another bottle from her kit and unstopped it. "Open wide."
"Wha' arre ye givin' me, lass?"
"Something for the pain." She poured a few drops in his mouth. "This will last a few hours. After that..."
She suddenly realized she had no idea what would happen after that.
"Aft that, ye'll be keepin' me nice 'n happy in cot, won't ye, poppet," the man answered, moving closer.
"I bet if ye gave me a peek at yer pretty elf titties, that would ease me pain," said a second as he limped closer to her, crowding her.
"Aye, that would help me pain too!" said the third, his hand reaching out.
Isaura started to raise her wand to intervene when suddenly the three men dropped to the deck, unconscious. Ashe glared at the sleeping men, and slipped a satchel back into her kit. She spun on her heels and marched to the helm.
Isaura could tell a tirade was coming, but the sorceress interrupted just as the girl opened her mouth.
"Sleeping dust?"
"Bergamot, anise, yling yling crystals, salt," Ashe waved her hand dismissively.
Ashe continued to amaze the sorceress! She must have concocted the powder on board using her new kit. Was it only days before that she was disoriented? Scared when the Caphilian soldiers came to their camp? Now she was confident and crafty.
Then Ashe unleashed:
"They entered a ship battle where many would be killed, a terrifying sea serpent rises up and smashes their ships, they swim for their lives while sharks circle, and many are severely injured..."
'uh, oh, here it comes,' Isaura thought.
"And after all that... all that..." She clasped her breasts with her hands. "All they can think about is seeing these? Are all men this stupid?"
Isaura tried so hard to bite her tongue, to not remind the girl, that, until recently, she fit into the 'men' category. But she couldn't remain silent, not with that set up.
"That's a rhetorical question, right?"
What erupted next from the young Alarian's mouth were strings of curses, the sorceress was sure the likes of which had never been heard before on earth or even in the darkest caverns of the hells of the underworld. Isaura wouldn't have repeated what she heard if she could, but even the milder phrases were memorable in their creativity, such as 'bunghole wafflers,' 'retarded asswad fish bait,' and Isaura's personal favorite, 'rectal whale bashers.'
"llsaana"
"W-why did you do that?" Ashe asked, stopping her fiery word tantrum when she realized the first mate was frozen in place, his mouth open.
"Observe. You would agree this man is a sailor, yes?"
Ashe nodded, wondering where this was going.
"Note the coloration of his cheeks. Even tanned and through his scruff, you can clearly see they have flushed red, in a blush."
Ashe only needed a moment to catch on.
"Fine, okay, you win. I made a sailor blush. But his ears aren't bleeding." Then Ashe noticed flakes of dried blood around the mate's left ear. "That blood was already there!"
Isaura laughed and hugged the girl.
"May we get these guys on to their ship now?" Ashe asked, casting another glare at the sleeping men. "They really pissed me off."
"You bet. I've gotten all the information I can from him. They were commissioned by the Keoba Dynasty to 'unofficially' steal back the ransom. Idiots. They risked unleashing the death plague on the kingdoms for coin?"
"What will we do with them?" Ashe asked, looking at the remaining pirate ship, now filled with survivors.
"We'll give them what supplies we can, and send them on their way. We need to be moving too. It is clear now our destination is Alari. But where? We can't let The Havock get too far ahead.”
Isaura thought for a few moments before she continued.
"Go below and fetch my scrying bowl, the pouch with water from the Falls, and also ... the atlas."
Ashe thought about that. She loved Isaura's atlas. You simply ask it a geography question, any question, and a dot appeared on the map. What would Isaura be looking for?
Ashe cleared her throat, "...to find the nearest island to send the pirates to?"
"Exactly," Isaura smiled her approval. It was such a pleasure to deal with an engaging mind.
Isaura unfroze the first mate, and then Ashe and the first mate gathered portions of hard tack, salted meats, water jugs and first aid supplies as they could spare onto the deck. She was afraid she might wake Zinjo as she dragged the supplies on deck, but he was snoring hard in the hammock he'd rigged.
Then things became interesting. Isaura made the first mate stand beside supplies and sleeping men. She pointed her wand at them.
"Reka"
She lifted and then guided the men and supplies to a gentle landing on the deck of the remaining pirate ship; the spot was clear because the men aboard to scrambled to move out of the way. The first mate flailed and moaned a bit in fright, but otherwise the airborne transfer worked well.”.
"Have you found one?" Isaura asked. Ashe had already opened the atlas and was scanning it.
"The Kisk Atoll lies only eight and a half leagues to the southwest," the girl said.
"How do you know about leagues?"
"Oh! We covered various distance measurements in my 'Weights and Measurements' class, my sophomore year at Edefia. I was really good at conversions."
'Of course you were,' mused Isaura.
"How did you query the atlas?"
"I asked for the location of the nearest island with fresh water and edible vegetation."
"Excellent!" Isaura said, as she reached over and affectionately ruffled the girl's hair. "Now, this will be a bit tricky, but I'm going to cast a spell which will push the pirate ship toward the atoll. I need you to position my wand in the precise direction."
"That will be tricky," Ashe said, biting her lower lip. "If we are even slightly off, they'll miss it and end up gods knows where."
"Hence the need for precision."
Ashe grumbled a few colorful phrases, took the tracking compass from the sorceress, and placed it on the atlas page which showed the Kisk Atoll. After orienting it, she stood, faced west, then pointed her arm to the southwest degree she thought was most accurate.
"It lies there."
"Muya ail dhed naisasdaiul" Isaura intoned, pointing first at the ship with her wand, then in the direction Ashe's arm pointed.
The pirate ship creaked and wobbled, slowly turned, then lurched forward in the direction Ashe still pointed. Shouts rose from the men on deck, though whether of thanks or curses was hard to tell.
"I'm worried," Ashe said, as the pirate craft moved further away. "What if I got it wrong?"
"What if we got it wrong you mean, since I cast the spell?" Isaura replied. "I'm worried too. But we can spare no more time. The stakes are too high to escort them."
"But what if they die?"
Isaura could see the girl internally wrestling with the ethics.
"If they die, they die," Isaura answered. "But consider - we diverted the serpent from killing them all. We righted their ship before the sharks devoured them. We've given them food and water and used our best guess to send them to an island where they will be safe. And if we don't stop the anti-life plague, then they, along with every other living creature, will die."
"When you put it like that..." Ashe's words trailed off as she chewed on the issue more. "This is one of those tradeoffs, isn't it?"
"Mmhm. We must own it."
"Well then, what's next?"
***
'Where are you now?'
'The Serene Sea.'
'How in hells ... never mind. You'd better have news, because you've yanked me out of an important meeting with the Arch Duchess, and she gets cranky when I leave her waiting.'
Skry speech always put her sister in a bad mood when she was on the receiving end - until the receiver set up her bowl, all she heard was an annoying buzzing in her ears.
'My apologies, Sister. I'll tell you about a life-killing plague that I think is being kept in Alari when it's more convenient for you.’
'Talk!'
Isaura summarized what they'd learned since she contacted her from Sapphire Falls. di'Sona was quiet as she digested it. Then finally:
'That solves the riddle of what we found in the Qyrc Wilds.'
‘Qyrc Wilds?’
Isaura dredged her mind to recall what her sister had said about it in her flat in Imis.
Only a month ago? It seems like years now ...She mentioned something about a bizarre experiment conducted by Blood Burn in the Qyrc Wilds. It was when he left there to travel to Caphila that they sent Shea... so what was the man doing up in the wilds?
'Does this have to do with The Blood Burn Archanist?' Isaura projected into her scrying bowl. 'What did you find?'
'What is this? ' di'Sona answered. 'The great and all-knowing Isaura Faeyra has no freaking idea? Oooooooo. Let me savor this moment.'
Isaura half raised her eyelids and glanced at Ashe. The girl was busy steering to where the tracking compass pointed, as Zinjo had yet to awaken. She heard their scry exchange.
'What's the matter, sister?' di'Sona scryed, 'cat got your tongue?'
"Try calling her a 'crap-headed nipple rag,'" Ashe offered. "That'll shut her up."
'Sister, you are a crap-headed nipple rag. Now tell me what you found.'
'Wait, I'm a what?' There was a long silence. 'What does that even mean?'
It was clear di'Sona struggled to interpret words she wasn't used to hearing combined.
'We found nothing.'
'Nothing? So, a dead end-'
'Sort of, the “dead” part of it especially. By nothing, I meant we found a dead zone. No living thing, in a one hundred mile radius around the place where the human ran his experiments.'
"Nooooooo!" Ashe gasped, with panic in her voice. "That means he's already used his reverse chrysopeia process to distill the anti-life serum!"
"Can it be neutralized?" Isaura asked.
"Possibly. That will take research and time. It can be contained; we...- alquimistas I mean - have developed lead containment boxes for compounds that accidentally turn harmful or viral."
'Who are you speaking to?' di'Sona scryed.
Isaura wanted to answer, 'the person whose mind you almost destroyed in your petty evilness. Who now is a key to averting this disaster.' But she knew now was not the time.
'My apprentice, Ashe. Listen closely, sister, we are still a day away from Alari's shores. Deploy our wizards to look for The Havock; she sails laden with ransom from the six other kingdoms under witch wind; your wizards can detect it. The ransom should lead to Blood Burn and she who assists him.'
"The Alquimista Academy in Imis will have alquimistas who can help and will have containment boxes too," Ashe whispered.
Isaura nodded. She knew the university well, and its library. It was only a two-hour ride from Imis.
'Also seek the aid of the alquimistas from their Imis academy, di'Sona. They will be useful and have boxes to safely house the death plague.'
'I detest alquimistas, but I suppose they could be of use, especially since this Blood Burn is one of their own. We must police them more closely if they are devising illnesses which can afflict Alari.'
Isaura was certain her sister meant something far stronger than police.
'Take no action until we arrive, I wish to-'
'My thanks, sister. I will report all you've said to the Arch Duchess, and will take matters from here. You may return to your travels-'
'-don't be a fool! Whoever is behind this is powerful and ruthless. They have already unleashed plagues on all the other kingdoms and but for Shea's sacrifice, would have infected Alari as well. Do not take action until-'
'I speak for the Alarian government and I order you to stay away. I will mobilize all appropriate forces and deal with this. Good day, sister.'
The skry contact abruptly stopped.
"Arrrrgh! She is such a conniving little-"
"-asshole. That's clear enough. Are you sure she isn't working with Blood Burn? From what you've said, I told her about my mission to find the rogue alquimista, and she said she didn't believe me. Yet she already knew of his experiments. Doesn't that seem odd that she wouldn't have connected with that? Maybe everything she did to me - caused my transformation, destroyed my mind with the Torc - was a way to shut me up."
Isaura looked at the girl as she considered her words. At first it concerned her that the girl spoke so clinically of the one who tortured her and destroyed her mind. But then she had to remind herself Ashe had no memory of that, and only knew such as she and Zinjo had told her.
"No, sweetie. If she wanted you out of the way, she would have simply killed you without a thought. She's loyal to Alari, I'm sure. She's also cruel enough to force your change just to be able to use the Torc on you."
"Perhaps so, but what if she thought of Blood Burn's serum as a weapon that would give Alari supremacy over the other kingdoms? If she thought that was in the best interest of Alari?"
Isaura hadn't considered that. "It is time you told me all you know about this Blood Burn and his plague."
"'Plague isn't the best description, unless we think of it as a plague against life. It's a serum that... hmmm. This will take some time to explain, for I'll have to give you a brief summary of the alquimista path first..."
When Isaura gave a 'continue' nod, the girl began. And even though they were alone on the sea, Ashe lowered her voice, in a way people did when they didn't want their voices to broadcast information or secrets.
"The alquimistas’ aim is to purify and perfect," Ashe said. "It is called chrysopeia, the transmutation of base metals into noble ones, like gold."
Isaura nodded. She knew all this; she had even spent a year studying the subject with the famed alquimista Aqynas of Grayscar decades ago. But she didn't want to interrupt Ashe to tell her so; she wanted to hear it in the girl's own words.
'No, scratch that, I love hearing the way she thinks.'
"For me, the true aim of chrysopeia is not the seeking of gold, nor even finding the immortality through the Elixir of Life..."
'Which you now have through your transformation,' Isaura mused, 'though you haven't yet realized.'
"...It's the creation of the purest panaceas, which would cure any disease. So many lives could be saved! Their pains eased..."
A warm smile crept over the sorceress' face as the girl continued her impassioned description of how she wished to serve others. Yes, Ashe's feisty colorful character was endearing, but this, this was where her soul fire was. Preserving life. Helping people.
'She is a true follower and priestess of Aana,' Isaura realized with a start, 'even though she is clueless to this fact as well.'
"Some alquimistas over the years began to grow frustrated with this path, for no matter how many times they applied the transmutation process, always there was imperfection at the end. Each time, smaller and smaller, but always there."
"Breviar - Blood Burn you call him - was one of these. Of course, he wasn't 'Blood Burn' then; he was boring Breviar of Guilon, one of our most highly respected professors at Edefia. Then, at one commencement assembly, he stopped midsentence in his address, looked at us oddly, and said 'we are all fools! Misguided fools'. He left that night; vanished. "
"It was I who discovered his hidden notes in his private library-"
"-What were you doing there?" Isaura interrupted.
"Snooping for tomes and manuscripts, of course," Ashe said, flashing what Isaura now recognized was her standard mischievous grin.
'Snooping for tomes? How many times have I been caught doing that?' Isaura thought. 'Aana, how could I not love this girl?'
"What I found caused an uproar among the alquimistas at the university. Breviar reached the conclusion that life itself was imperfect, was incapable of being - his words - 'purified', and needed to be cleansed.'"
"What is that kind of insane thinking even called?!" Isaura wondered aloud in horror. "Genocidal? Annihilationism?"
"I call it the corroded brain gibberings of a scrotum faced fuckwit," Ashe tilted her head with pixie cuteness, "but hey, that's just me being charitable."
"I like your description better," Isaura said, chuckling. "What else did you find in his notes?"
"It gets far worse," Ashe said, somber again. "He formulated a reverse chrysopeia process, that he theorized would produce what he called anti-alkahest, - anti life - a supremely potent deadly serum."
"Capable of destroying all life in a one hundred mile radius?"
"Yes. A single drop, according to his notes, if made airborne, would. His notes also showed he planned to make way more than a drop. It alarmed the alquimistas so much that we formed teams and fanned out across the Seven Kingdoms searching for him. Master Bexon and I eventually came to Millcrest in the Yaran States, where the soothsayer found us and-"
“-How long has it been doing that?" Isaura asked, when she noticed the needle on the tracking compass swaying back and forth.
"Off and on since I took the helm," Ashe said, looking at the compass. "But it's happening more often. What's it mean?"
"That The Havock is getting out of its range," Isaura frowned. "I could try to coax more witch wind, but I'm not sure how much more stress my makeshift boat will bear. Damn it, we can't lose them, especially if di'Sona is moving ahead without us!"
Isaura concentrated hard as she inventoried all her magical spells and knowledge trying to figure a way to increase their speed.
"Um, Isaura?"
"Not now, love, I'm thinking."
"Oh, sorry. But, uh, I have an idea."
Isaura gave the girl her full attention; she had come to value her opinion.
"What is it?"
"Well, you have a spell that made the boat materials, and those pirates, float in the air. And you have a spell that made their ship move. Couldn't you use both on The Hope of Aana? I mean, couldn't we fly? That surely must be faster."
"I don't think... wait... wait..." Isaura thought hard. "That could work."
"Could?" The hint of a mischievous grin played on her face. "It should be a piece of cake for the Queen of Wands."
"I sense a challenge," Isaura said, whipping out her wand. "Let's test your theory, Ashera, shall we?"
Ashe made an elaborate bow, and made an 'after you' gesture with her arm.
"Reka"
The sorceress made a circling motion with her wand, pointing at the ship. Then she pointed to a spot in the air above.
Ashe felt a lurching, and she ran to the rail to see what was happening. It was working! The choppy surface of the sea fell further away, until at about fifty feet above it, the rising of the ship stopped.
"Point the direction, love."
Ashe held the tracking compass up; though it swung to and fro, it steadied enough to give her the answer. She pointed with her arm.
"That way."
"Muya ail dhed naisasdaiul" Isaura said, pointing first at the ship with her wand, then in the direction Ashe's arm pointed.
The Hope of Aana moved in the direction Ashe pointed, picking up speed.
“We're flying! Holy mother of gods, we're flying through the sky!"
Ashe ran to Isaura without thinking and gave her a bear hug.
"You did it!"
"We did it, Ashera. We."
***
Ashe soon noticed their sail was a hindrance now, actually slowing the ship's forward movement. She scrambled to lower the canvass sail as Zinjo had taught her. She stowed it below, and while there, she grabbed the kettle. Next, she tossed in dried mint and grabbed two mugs from the supplies. She also managed to carry the two crude box stools Zinjo crafted from the supply crate. Casting a quick glance at Zinjo's hammock - still snoring away - she scrambled up the ladder to the deck. She sat on one stool, and Isaura sat upon the other. Out of the water, The Hope of Aana's helm served no purpose, and the ship glided through the air on the course Isaura set.
"Show me what you've learned," Isaura said. Shortly before they encountered the pirates, Isaura had begun teaching Ashe simple spells. With her keen mind, and Alarian magic coursing through her veins, Isaura knew the girl would be a natural.
"May I borrow your wand?"
"Oh, no! Little minnow must learn to swim first."
Ashe stuck her tongue out, and though Isaura knew well her history as Aesh the scholar, she looked nothing more than a petulant elven youth at that moment.
"Haed"
After Ashe spoke the word, she pointed an index finger of her free hand at the kettle. The metal glowed a soft red, forcing the girl to quickly place it on the deck.
"Ow!"
The glow dulled, and steam rose from its spout.
"Hey! Don't arch your eyebrows at me, damn it," Ashe huffed. "I did it, didn't I?"
"Obviously," Isaura answered. "But it's all about intent and control. Had I given you my wand, you would have blown up the kettle."
"Oh. So, next time, I should ...picture in my mind ...the level of heat I want?"
"Exactly. Like anything worth doing, it takes practice."
Ashe nodded; she was just fine with that. Practice, patience, studying - these were characteristics that had defined Aesh in his studies.
Then, her eyes widened as she considered all that Isaura had contended with in creating this boat.
"This is just a simple kettle. How in the world," Ashe's voice held awe now, and she waved her arm in a circle in the direction of the deck "did you do all this?"
"At last, you appreciate my brilliance," Isaura replied with a grin. "Just don't ask Zinjo what happened on my first one hundred attempts."
"Oh I definitely will," Ashe said, smiling back. She poured the mint tea and handed the sorceress her cup. "But still, to give each piece of the thousands used to build her, I'm just, well, floored, Isaura."
"Thanks. You know, even by doing all that, a magical construct such as The Hope of Aana still wouldn't succeed unless you provide it with an overarching intent as well. Hmm. That's not the best way to describe it. It's more like... like..."
"Heart?"
"Yes! You know then?"
Ashe shook her head, and then gazed into her cup
"I... I don't really. Oh, in my head I do, but... would you ...would you mind telling me the 'heart' you gave The Hope of Aana? I'd really appreciate it."
Isaura wasn't sure the girl realized how deeply personal her question was. But she didn't mind. In fact, if she pretended the past few years never happened, because moments like this with the girl were interchangeable with countless past times with Shea. For this instance, Shea was here, as she always used to be. The two together, discussing the mysteries of the universe.
"I love to travel, you know that, right? I crave to be on the open road, journeying to unknown lands. It is a core part of my soul. This I passed to The Hope of Aana when I constructed her. The heart I gave her was a yearning for the vast and endless sea."
"That's ...that's beautiful!' Ashe said, her eyes misting. "I get that."
They grew silent now, sipping their hot drinks, as The Hope of Aana sped through the air. The sun set and the moon and stars filled the sky around them. For once, the Serene Sea lived up to its name and was smooth as glass, reflecting every single twinkling star in the heavens. To Ashe, they now flew through heaven itself.
Her heart clenched from the sight - it was a singularly perfect moment in her life.
"Isaura, no matter what has happened, or what will... this... this... thank you!"
Isaura felt it too, and wrapped her arm around the young girl. When Ashe laid her head on Isaura's shoulder, something passed between them, a familial bonding. They each felt it, but neither said a word. Because, in moments like this, words fail.
Some minutes later, they heard Zinjo bellow as he awoke. Next there came the *thump, thump, thump* as he climbed the ladder. When his head poked through the latch, Ashe and Isaura could tell the giant was only half-awake.
"Zinjo, beware, I lifted The Hope-"
"-Shhh," Ashe put her index finger to her mouth.
"But he doesn't know that we're fl-"
"Shhh," Ashe said again with a mischievous smile.
Zinjo stumbled to the far side of the ship lowered his breeches, leaned over the railing to pee, and...
"Aiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!"
The giant fell back onto the deck and scrambled to the helm on hands and knees.
"Ve in air! Ve ...ve ...ve float!"
Ashe was rolling on the deck, roaring with laughter and clutching her sides. Isaura was bent over too, her eyes tearing from laughter.
"Leetle one thinks this funny?" The giant was indignant.
"Leetle one thinks this is gods damned hilarious," Ashe said, when she managed to stop laughing.
"Zinjo thinks leetle one is being mean."
"I think I'm giving well-deserved payback."
"Payback?" Zinjo was confused. "For which?"
"One," Ashe held a finger, "for when you jumped in the sea when a freakin sea monster was coming. I was worried sick for you."
"Awwwww! As leetle Ashe saw, no need for worry because-"
"- oh yes! Because you can magically become a hundred foot tall raging giant." Ashe held up a second finger. "Number two, you became a hundred foot tall raging giant and scared the living piss out of me! So yeah, payback."
"You must admit, she argues her points well," Isaura said, still smiling wide.
"Ho... ho ho..." It started with a low rumble but picked up speed. "It was ...ho ho ho ...funny ...ho ho ho ...starting to pee and looking down and 'aiiieeeee' ...HO HO HO HO HO HO."
His laughter was infectious, and soon Ashe and Isaura joined back in. Their merriment echoed off the sea as The Hope of Aana sailed through the stars and night.
Chapter 7.
Homecoming
"It's like a carpet of gold. Shimmering gold."
Looking down from The Hope of Aana, as she sailed above the land they'd reached, that was exactly what it looked like to Ashe. After sailing among the stars, she awakened to this sight at dawn.
"In Alarian," Isaura said, "they are called-"
"-Elf Trees!!!" Ashe squealed.
Every child heard stories of the wondrous Elf Trees, which were never barren, yet followed the seasons too. There was nothing like them in the human kingdoms. Yes, they had deciduous trees that somewhat resembled these, shedding leaves in the fall, of course, and budding new growth in the spring. And there were evergreens, which never shed leaves, but true to their name, remained one hue throughout the seasons.
But Elf Trees - as every child knew - were magical; their leaves turned solid gold in the autumn, but did not fall, remaining on their branches through winter. Only in the spring, when new growth blossomed, did they finally fall.
"Eemen trees, Ashe," Isaura corrected. "Have some pride, love, no self-respecting Alarian would ever call them something as base as Elf Trees."
"Hey, Isaura?"
"Yes, love?"
"Does your ass ever get jealous of the amount of shit that comes out of your mouth?"
"Does my ass ever get..." Isaura tried hard to stifle her laughter; she didn't want to encourage the girl. "Tell me the truth, Aesh the Impious, do you have these saying memorized or are you ad libbing them?"
Before Ashe could answer, a sound distracted her.
Singing.
As the wind rustled the golden Eemen leaves beneath The Hope of Aana, Ashe heard melodies and harmonies. Not voices, exactly, but tones and vibrations. Straining her new Alarian senses, she concentrated, focusing on where the sounds were coming from.
"Isaura," she whispered, the wonder clear in her voice, "the trees are singing!"
"Welcome to Thyli Alari, Ashera Faeyra."
The sorceress smiled; Thyli Alari was a wonder of the Seven Kingdoms, pulsing nature's magic. The immortal Alarians never took their blessed realm for granted, as their deep reverence ever remained. But as decade passed decade, the sense of marvel in an Alarian did dull; what a joy to hear the girl's first impressions!
Even if Ashe possessed her full memories of her visit as Aesh to Imis, it would not equal this. Imis, the fabulous capital of Thyli Alari, was to the world the archetype example of an 'elven city,' filled with dizzying spiraling Alarian architecture.
Yet this was all humans saw of their lands; none were permitted in the lush forests, misty mountains and fertile valleys, the true Alari.
"Do you know vhere ve go?" Zinjo asked. He steered the ship in the direction the tracking compass pointed.
"I'm afraid I do," the sorceress answered. "We are heading straight for Beurl'Aana."
"Beurl'Aana? That's the, um, birthplace of the elves ...I mean Alarians?" Ashe was proud she could remember these facts from her university history classes.
"Yes, it is. And it's also the home of my sister."
"The one who beseeched Ymra to change me so she could torture me and break my mind with..." Ashe struggled to remember what Isaura told her about her earlier trip Imis, "...the Torc?"
"No, that's my younger sister, di'Sona. Beurl'Aana is home to my older sister, Elasha. di'Sona is the nice one."
***
"Well, Kuvras? Speak! We should have received word by now!"
The wizard shuffled forward, resigned. A promotion to The Empress' High Wizard wasn't a promotion at all, unless one considered death a good thing. She set the previous High Wizard Palenor on fire. The one before that exploded. At least he had been able to make out a will and plan for it.
"You are correct, Empress Elasha. Captain Angrove arrived at the coast several hours ago and should arrive by dusk with the monies from the six kingdoms."
"Any troubles?" Elasha asked.
'Where to begin,' Kuvras wondered.
"The Empress should be alerted to several matters," he said. "First, The Havock was attacked by pirate ships - we suspect commissioned by the Keoba Dynasty-"
"-And were dealt with, yes?"
"Yes, the wizards accompanying Angrove and his crew summoned a sea monster, which destroyed the pirates and-"
"Idiots!" Elasha yelled. "The monster could have turned on The Havock and all we'd worked for would have been lost. Have these wizards brought before me when they arrive."Kuvras turned white; he knew several of them well.
"Keoba Dynasty you say?" When Kuvras gave a quick nod, Elasha grew pensive. "They shall receive a second harsher plague then. And the antidote shall cost triple this time."
Which would destroy the economy for the kingdom, she knew, but an example must be made.
"You mentioned several matters, I believe. What other news?"
"We are tracking a large column of Alarian soldiers, who march from Imis. At first they marched to where The Havock made landfall, but they have altered course and are coming directly toward us. They should arrive in several hours’ time, as well."
The wizard braced for the bolt that must surely be flung from that news, but instead he saw Elasha smiled.
"I don't know how my littlest sister finally discovered I am behind the plagues, but, so be it. Summon the Archanist; we must prepare a welcome for them. Once the Arch Duchess sees how easily her finest troops are disposed of, she will comply with anything I demand. Including abdicating power to me."
'And turning over the sniveling di'Sona to me for some real fun.'
"But you mentioned several things, High Wizard Kuvras. Is there something else?"
"Um... uh... you see..."
"Out with it, man! We haven't all day! We have much to do before our guests arrive."
"Another sailboat has been spotted, and is heading toward us as well."
"You mean headed to where Angrove landed?" Elasha asked, slightly confused.
"No, I mean, headed to us. Through the air," Kuvras stammered. "It's ...er ...flying."
Elasha's eyes blazed red once she understood and she whispered one word, dripping with hate:
"Isaura!"
The energy bolt flew from her hand.
***
"Beyond Beurl'Aana, and resting far below the Sacred Grove of Aana, there is a lake - I Hithui Ael - in Alarian. I keep a small rustic villa there. I'll put The Hope of Aana down near it."
"I Hithui Ael." Ashe let it roll off her tongue, making the sorceress smile; their language sounded exquisite when the girl spoke it. Isaura couldn't contain her giggling as she imagined Ashe cursing in Alarian.
"What a beautiful name. What's it mean? And why are you laughing?"
"Nothing; thinking of something funny," Isaura answered. "It means, 'The Misty Lake.' We'll land there."
"Reln"
The sorceress guided The Hope of Aana down with her wand to a point on the lake’s shore where a wooden dock stood next to the shore. The Hope of Aana settled into the water with barely a splash.
Nearby, Isaura's 'rustic villa' looked more like a palace: its walls, ornate columns and roof were constructed of rich green marble, which blended seamlessly with the forest that surrounded it. Ashe heard the splashing of fountains, and based on her visit to Isaura's other lodging she'd visited, Celemiril Manor, she could already envision how sumptuous the place was.
"I don't think the words 'tiny place' and 'rustic villa' mean what you think they mean, Isaura," Ashe said.
"Perhaps, but before you deem my descriptions misapplied," Isaura answered, as the three of them hopped onto the dock. "You must see my palace in the southern province of the Khedel Empire."
"P-palace?" Ashe stuttered, looking to Zinjo for help.
"Iz beeg," he answered, as he finished securing The Hope of Aana to the dock.
"Now who's misapplying words," Isaura said with a huff. "It's huge! You'll especially love the library I've compiled there, easily the largest private one in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Seriously??? I'd love to-"
Before she could explore that gem Isaura had tossed her further, a small bright voice interrupted them.
"Greetings, Mistresses Isaura and Ashera and you, most noble Zinjo. Welcome to Villa bui i Ael."
A small formally dressed Fefnoir man made a deep bow.
"How wonderful to see you, Pipdap," Isaura answered, bowing in return.
Ashe and Zinjo did too, though after she finished her bow, Ashe bit her lower lip, her face showing confusion.
"Er, thank you, ...Pipdap?" Ashe said, "but how you know my name?"
"Oh, Peppenet and Piproos sent word," he said, smiling wide.
When Isaura saw the next logical question forming in the girl's mind, about how that communication was even possible, Isaura shook her head to her, whispering, "Fefnoir magic. Don't even ask. No one understands it."
"Mistress," Pipdap said solemnly, "A full regiment of Alarian soldiers and wizards march to Beurl'Aana, led by your sister di'Sona and the Arch Duchess herself. Also, we have detected a large group of less than savory people making their way to Beurl'Aana from the coast. Based on this and Mistress' unusual form of arrival, we have guessed Mistress is not coming for a relaxing stay. We have taken the liberty of readying mounts for you and Mistress Ashe, and have a Uthain steed for Master Zinjo as well. Have we presumed too much?"
"No, my esteemed friend," Isaura said, "as always, you have presumed perfectly. We ride for Beurl'Aana as well."
***
Myantha stared out of the window of her carriage, watching the forest grow thicker by the mile. Beside her, di'Sona read from a grimoire, her face locked in focus and concentration.
'Memorizing spells for her dual with Elasha,' Myantha thought. And then worried, for Elasha was rumored to be the most powerful sorceress among the Alarians. The Arch Duchess admired di'Sona's courage, whatever misgivings she had about the woman's well-known cruelty.
'At least she is loyal,' Myantha conceded.
Across from her sat Masters Vataz and Ifeus, alquimista professors from their Imis academy.
'This alquimista...such a strange human profession and study,' the Arch Duchess thought. 'And something we must pay attention to, in the future, if one of their own has devised such a terrible disease. Our arrogance blinded us to this danger.'
She listened in on their whispered conversation. Humans rarely understood the reach of Alarian senses. These men were worried, obviously, for they were literally wringing their hands. Myantha had thought that description was only used by obtuse literary hacks, but these men were doing it before her.
"Once we have Blood Burn's compound in a containment box, how will we destroy it?" whispered Vataz. "Would fire do it?"
"No," answered Ifeus, in an equally low whisper, "according to the notes we received, it reacts to fire in the same manner as black powder. It would spread the pathogen exponentially."
"What then, dilution? We haven't the proper protection equipment to risk it in the field," Vataz said.
"No, no, agreed," Ifeus said. "Perhaps cold is the only option, and we let time degrade the components. According to the observations made by the apprentice Aesh-"
"What did you just say?" di'Sona demanded, her full attention now on the men.
"Er, I said cold might be an-"
"No, the name you just spoke, idiot."
"Aesh, from Ogda," Ifeus answered in a shaky voice. He is the brilliant alquimista who uncovered Blood Burn's perverted plans."
"And... where is he now, this Aesh?" A hint of uncertainty had crept into her voice.
"Word came to us he was last seen in Millcrest some months ago, by Master Bexon. He'd found a lead and left alone to track the Archanist. No one has heard from him since. He is feared to be dead."
"Why do you ask of him?" the Arch Duchess asked, curious now. "Is he important? The name does sound familiar..."
"I... uh ...no reason-"
"-Arch Duchess! Mistress di'Sona! News!" an Alarian courier interrupted, riding his steed alongside the moving carriage.
"We have received word that a ...flying ship ... was spotted overhead, landing in I Hithui Ael."
Myantha's head whipped around to di'Sona. "Well, advisor? What the hells does this mean?"
"It could only be ...Isaura ...Arch Duchess."
'The third Faeyra sister, oh peachy,' Myantha thought. 'The Faeyra sister no one knows the measure of because she chooses self-exile from Alari. We face Elasha, our most powerful wizard, who has partnered with a human who has devised a horrific plague, and now a wild card comes flying in - literally.'
"The Faeyra clan," Myantha muttered in disgust. "I now fully appreciate the wisdom of our ancestors who forever barred them from ruling Alari."
***
An hour's hard ride along the banks of I Hithui Ael brought the trio below the forested plateau where the ancestral home of the Alarians stood, the palace of Beurl'Aana. Ashe could just make out its green spires poking above the canopy of thick trees.
They dismounted to give their horses a rest before making the final push.
"You ride well," Isaura said to Ashe. It didn't surprise her, for even when her mind was dulled and broken by the Torc, her competent handling of the tack was automatic; the girl obvious knew her way around a horse. But Ashe rode today like she was born to the saddle.
"Thanks, after my family died, I worked for years as a stable boy at the race track in Edefia to survive," Ashe answered. "I often rode the race horses on off days to give them a workout."
"Ah, ha!" Isaura said, "that is where you learned your colorful language, I bet."
"The basics, maybe, but the creative embellishments are all mine," Ashe answered, then stared up at the distant palace. "So what's our plan?"
"Da, witch woman," Zinjo said, "must have plan more than blast things."
"Honestly, I don't know what to expect. I hope to neutralize Elasha and any other wizards or sorceresses who may follow her. Zinjo will be able to account for soldiers my older sister has..."
"Da," the giant said solemnly, and as the memory of the one hundred foot giant wrestling the sea monster flashed in her head, Ashe would have bet all her money he would win (if she had any).
Isaura held each of Ashe's shoulders and looked down into the girl's eyes.
"I'm counting on you to find Blood Burn and take his anti-life serum, Ashe, for I believe this is your destiny. Your discovery of his notes, the famed Ailana Crow seeking you out and the fortune she read for you, your meeting with Shea - yes, even that - ...your incredible transformation..."
'I still can make no sense of that, Isaura thought, '-why she was goddess-changed, and especially why into a girl- but I know there is purpose behind it!'
"...our journey together ...all leads here."
Isaura watched the girl's eyes darken, and she turned to gaze through the forest and out over the Misty Lake. An Alarian sunset dappled its waters and turned the rising wisps of mist to hues of orange and red. Two great blue herons flew low, skimming the surface, their great wings occasionally slashing wetness on their downward strokes.
"What's wrong, love?" Was it doubt she'd seen in Ashe's eyes? When she gently turned the girl's head to face hers, she saw the tears.
"Iz no shame in being scared, leetle one, but know witch and Zinjo have your back."
"I'm not scared. Well, look, only a fuck faced turd sniffer wouldn't be scared to death by what Breviar has made. It would wipe out all the living wonder that surrounds us. Add in Elasha, who from what Isaura said is wicked powerful, and yeah I'm scared, but that's not it."
"Then what is it, sweetie?" Isaura asked, wiping away a tear rolling down the girl's cheek.
"I-I know this sounds crazy, because it's only been a week or so since I awoke in that cave with you, but I feel like I've known you for much... I mean, I feel like we..."
Ashe stumbled with her words and emotions welling within her that until this moment she hadn't known were so strong.
"I really like you both. No, 'like' doesn't capture it at all... fuck! I'm an idiot..."
Ashe could tell by the perplexed looks of the sorceress and the giant that she had lost them, so she gathered her thoughts and tried again.
"This past week... which has been sooo weird for me..." Ashe rolled her eyes internally at that vast understatement, and didn't bother motioning to her body; she figured they'd know what she meant. "...but leaving all that aside, with the two of you? I felt something I haven't since my family died. I belonged. And... and..."
Ashe huffed in exasperation; despite her reputation for flamboyant verbage, she'd always struggled to express her deepest feelings.
"Girl iz most right." Zinjo said, coming to her rescue, and giving the top of her head an affectionate rub. "We love her dearly,"
"Absolutely we do..." Isaura seconded strongly. Then she guessed what the girl was really trying to say, the tip-off being the past tense 'meant' and not 'means'.
"...you don't think we are going to survive, do you?"
"No, it's not a 'world coming to an end' feeling," the girl answered, "though it could. It's just..."
Ashe let out a frustrated sigh, and tried to convey what she meant yet again.
"During this long journey which started for me in that library many months ago, I really died once, I think, killed by the Torc. But coincidentally, an incredibly powerful sorceress found me and managed to resurrect me. Then when I dove into the sea after I learned I'd killed..."
Ashe still couldn't bring herself to say those words, that she killed Shea.
"...after I learned that and jumped, I should have died - I wanted to die - but there just happened to be a magical giant nearby who pulled me from the depths of the sea and saved me again. I've cheated death twice. But the third time's the charm, as they say."
"Do not say such, leetle one," Zinjo said, his worry even thicker than his accent, "iz bad luck."
"I don't fear death. I... I think I'm ready for it," she said, then her eyes turned wet again with fresh tears, and she looked first at Zinjo, then Isaura. "I... just wanted you both to know whatever happens... ...I love you... and I will try my best not to let you down."
They spoke many words after that, all from the heart; Isaura wrapping her arms around the small girl, and Zinjo enveloping them both in his massive arms.
Soon, they mounted and rode, up the winding path to Beurl'Aana. And as they did, Isaura couldn't shake the feeling - she, too, sensed a doom hanging over the girl.
***
Arch Duchess Myantha gazed up at the ancestral palace and heaved a sigh; the wondrous structure was part of an Alarian's soul. Its architecture wove ribbons of white and green granite into patterns that, depending on the time of day, shone brilliantly, or became completely camouflaged by the Alarian forest. It was at its most glorious white now, at dusk. That she was now forced to lay siege to it was tragic.
Beside her, di'Sona and an Alarian regiment of over two thousand soldiers and wizards stood poised, surrounding the ancient palace of Beurl'Aana.
"It's over, Elasha." Myantha's voice echoed clear in the cool evening. "Don't embarrass yourself, and your family, by drawing this out."
Silence was her reply.
"Perhaps they are sleeping," Myantha said as she turned from looking up at the palace barbican to her sorceress. "Wake them."
di'Sona pulled her wand from her purple robes, and flicked it toward the palace.
"kikh"
A force slammed against the palace facade. Invisible, but for the air compression, pushing dust up and flying.
"Knock, knock," di'Sona said.
The doors at the barbican level opened, and a woman walk to the banister, clothed it a pure white silken robe, rich black hair pinned in an updo, a circlet of gold gleaming on her head - there was never mistaking a Faeyra sister when you saw one.
di'Sona whispered, "Elasha," through gritted teeth.
"Some little girls never learn their lesson," Elasha said. She raised a hand that suddenly had a white wand in it and spoke the word dalo.
Fire roared from her wand streaming down toward di'Sona and Myantha. di'Sona spoke a quick ruhuss, inserting an invisible wall in front of them. The fire slammed into it, making it glow red, then white.
Beads of sweat began forming on di'Sona's brow; her sister was pouring everything she had into this test of wills - she'd forgotten how amazingly strong Elasha's magic was - and she wasn't sure how long she could hold it back.
"She means to end this right now," di'Sona said under her breath to Myantha.
"Can you... hold her back?" The Arch Duchess looked to her left and right to see if other wizards could aid her sorceress, but they already were, pouring their energies into the shield.
"Will it be en-"
The Arch Duchess never finished her sentence, for Elasha gave a high yelp and was flung to the stone floor. The stream of fire blinked out.
"And what lesson is that, Sister?" a clear voice rang out.
The Arch Duchess, di'Sona, and the Alarian troops turned to find who had spoken. Far to their left flank, on a small plateau, they spotted, first a giant, then a woman wearing rich green robes holding a dark wand aloft, and beside her, a petite young Alarian woman.
"Isaura, I presume," Myantha said.
Elasha had risen and dashed to the balcony of the barbican.
"How like you to strike a dirty blow rather than face me," Elasha's voice echoed. "As ever, you are incapable of the noble path."
"It's true," Isaura answered, her voice also amplified by Alarian magic. "Releasing plagues upon the Seven Kingdoms and blackmailing them for the cure, that high-minded altruism was always out of my reach."
"You promised to never set foot in Beurl'Aana forever in exchange for the coin I paid you," Elasha hissed. "Yet here you stand; such is the value of your word."
"But surely you read the fine print in our contract, Sister," Isaura called back. "The one which reads 'this contract is null and void if you harbor anyone who creates a serum which will end all life'."
"My only regret was darling Shea emptied her mind of her memories of you before I captured her..." Elasha replied, her voice suddenly, sickeningly sweet. It was the one she used to torment her sisters those many decades ago.
Whenever di'Sona heard it from her oldest sister, she cringed, for she knew some cruelty would soon be inflicted on her. Even now, di'Sona grimaced at the sound of it.
It produced a different reaction those many decades ago in Isaura: cold rage. When she heard it, she lashed out at her sister. That was exactly Elasha's intent, for then her parents would punish Isaura, and the kindest thing anyone could say of Faeyra punishments was they were creative.
"...I would have loved to pull each of those out and twist them round and round. Rest assured she learned true pain before I released her in Imis. I'm sure she would have cried out for you, if only she could have remembered who you were."
Myantha watched Isaura's wand arm shoot up again, but saw the young Alarian girl grab the sorceress' arm. Isaura tilted her head to listen to the girl, and then lowered her arm.
"Have you no reply?" Elasha called. "Or did you care so little for her?"
"My young friend warned me you were trying to enrage me into making a mistake," Isaura said, with frost in her voice. "Her exact words were 'you know, that leg humping sack of shit is trying to bait you, right?'..."
The Alarian troops snickered and chuckled on hearing that, making Elasha face burn hot red.
"...I think she is being charitable. You are pathetic, Elasha. I'm guessing you've even given yourself a vain narcissistic title... wait... wait... I bet it's something like 'Empress.' Do you have a pretty uniform too?"
"You are beneath me!" Elasha called out, and drew herself up to her full height. "While you've been shuffling about the world, I've been building power, consolidating, practicing my craft. You are outmatched in every way. Be gone. Turn and run. Now! Do not stop until you are far, far away. Never show your face to me again."
"I swore to our parents I wouldn't give you the death you so richly deserve," Isaura answered, "it's why I left Alari. Yet for what you did to my daughter, I renounce that vow. I pray to Aana to help me not take pleasure in this, but I fear I will."
"So be i!," Elasha screamed, "You. Die. Now."
"dalo"
***
Ashe resisted the urge to duck as fire blasted toward them. Isaura spoke the word rhaiarn and an invisible shield appeared before them, blocking the fire.
"She does have strength, I'll give her that," Isaura said, but her voice didn't show any strain as far as Ashe could tell. "Did you notice anything different about what I did as opposed to di'Sona?"
Ashe wondered at that; as white hot fire blasted in front of them, Isaura thought it presented a 'teachable moment.' There really must not be much danger from Elasha's attack; a quick glance at Zinjo's face showed an expression more akin to boredom rather than worry. Ashe replayed the last few minutes in her mind.
"di'Sona used a different word than you did to make this... shield?" Ashe said. "She spoke the word-"
"-Don't repeat it," Isaura said, "but yes. Alarians like to use what is called energui ingole, or energy magic. It's blunt, but effective, especially given Alarians’ inborn affinity for magic. I know a few other forms, and created my shield using an ancient dwarvish magic called aranalder, or 'elemental' in the common tongue."
"Um, so, what's the difference?" Ashe asked, trying hard to be as nonchalant as Isaura as a searing stream of fire battered the shield only steps away.
"Ashe! Oh no! Iz just the question witch woman wanted," Zinjo said, "Now we suffer long and stuffy speech on different magics!"
"Funny man," Isaura said. "And no, I won't bore you with a long-winded speech on the differences. I'll show you. For you see, while energui ingole shields simply block, almost as if they were a slab of stone, aranalder magic is more ...pliable. Watch this."
Isaura began manipulating the air with her free hand, and the shield changed its shape as she did, first forming a curved surface, which funneled Elasha's energy stream upward, then curving over, forming a loop through which the fire flowed up and then back ...at Elasha.
With a quick ruhuss, Elasha threw up a shield, to block her own fire.
"Oh dear me, Sister," Isaura called, "how careless; such a beginner's trap to fall in. If you speak 'koaeto' to cease the fire, you'll also remove your shield and will be burned by the flame still in my loop. But if you don't, eventually your shield will fail, and again, crispy Elasha."
Elasha let loose a string of expletives in reply. To which, Isaura raised her eyebrow and looked at Ashe.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Ashe asked, trying to figure out what lesson she was being directed to now.
"Her cursing. I'm sure that as a professional, you have thoughts on its quality."
"I mean, anyone can indiscriminately drop the f-bomb. Fuck this, fuck that, fuck, fuck, fuck. It becomes meaningless. I save mine up and use them sparingly for maximum effect," Ashe said, though her heart wasn't in it.
She worried still about the threat Isaura's sister posed; she sensed they were far from finished, that Elasha was vicious and had other defenses to be wary of. They still needed to enter the palace, find Breviar, secure the serum.
"Please be careful."
Elasha yelled and motioned to someone in the barbican doorway as she struggled to keep her shield in place. A dozen or so robed men and women - wizards and sorceresses, she guessed - filed out, pointing their wands at Isaura, chanting words, and soon, Isaura's shield was under attack from wind, ice, and fire.
Ashe wasn't sure how to read their threat level now; Isaura did seem to be struggling now - and why weren't the Alarian wizards aiding them? - but the sorceress give a quick smile and wink.
"Oh no!" Zinjo said, "Hold hands over ears, leetle one! Witch woman is using Necrosong chants!"
Isaura spoke a string of words that hurt Ashe's ears to hear, sharp guttural and black:
Tuko khlok lak koxail lovk
Over and over, Isaura spoke them, her own voice growing hoarse in the speaking. Dark things appeared in the air around her - Ashe couldn’t decide if they were ravens, bats or some other dark creatures, but once the creatures were a thick flock, Isaura spoke a final word that sounded like a snake's hiss:
Fisis
The dark forms shrieked toward Elasha and her wizards, shredding and devouring all magical energy before them. Emitting a high-pitched buzzing, they swarmed the wizards, swirling around, and then passing through them. Over and over. Elasha and her wizards frantically swatted at the things, twisting and turning to escape, but still the apparitions hunted and fed.
Finally, the black swarm turned, paused as if digesting, then back and raced toward Isaura. Who uttered: derxomk
The swarm vanished.
For a moment, silence, giving Ashe time to wonder 'what the holy wanking hells just happened?'
"What did you do?" Elasha wondered the same. Yet her voice was slight, unamplified by magic. She squealed, "what did you do?!"
"You ...took her magic," Ashe said, holding her palm up. She no longer sensed the tickle of energy from Elasha and her followers.
"As Zinjo said, it is from the Necrosong," Isaura said, her voice recovering. "The Odes of the Daemon. The darkest of magics. I found the tome hidden in his temple ruins in the sunken lands. The cover of the tome ...bleeds black blood. The effect is temporary though; the loss of magic lasts only a few days. But plenty of time for our purposes."
"Wait, what?!" Ashe's head swirled trying to comprehend the sorceress' words, packed full of what surely must be complex and arcane subjects - Daemon? Sunken lands? Bleeding books? - each worthy of years of study.
"Stolen! My magic is gone! You bitch!" Elasha howled. "Launch the gas. Kill them all!"
***
Thumping popping sounds started coming from behind the palace walls. Soon, large clay pots began crashing in front of the Alarian army, releasing seemingly... nothing. Yet the clay pot cannon fire increased exponentially, sending a rain of pots down in front of the soldiers.
Then, one by one, those soldiers closest to the pots fell to the ground, unmoving.
Though Isaura and Ashe could see the effects from their vantage point, the commanders of the Alarian army, including di'Sona and the Arch Duchess, were too far behind their lines to have a clear view.
Sensing disaster, Ashe breathed deeply, using her new senses to the fullest, and detected the faintest smell of rotten eggs.
"Sulfide!" Ashe tugged on Isaura's robe sleeve. "It's bad Dragon's Breath... er... it's bad gas! Get everyone back! It kills instantly!"
Isaura didn't doubt Ashe for a second. She waved her wand and spoke:
"lles rfaec"
*Sister, Elasha is launching poison gas upon your troops. Pull back! One hundred yards at least.*
*Are you certain it's not a trick? I would hate to give up our advantage.*
Dozens of those on the front line had toppled over and now soldiers further back began falling.
*Your men and women are dying! PULL BACK!!!*
Recall was quickly sounded, though not soon enough for the one hundred who already were dead. The firing of the pots soon dwindled to a few crashing down to earth, then none.
Though colorless, the gas from the rain of pots had formed a blurry cloud in front of the palace entrance. The sorceress's mind rifled through dozens of barrier spells, each slightly different; one an ice barrier, another a flame, and so on. But what she didn't know was whether any offer complete protection from the gas. Then Isaura had another idea.
"What may be done about this gas, Ashe?" Isaura said.
"How did you talk with your sister like that?"
"It's called Far Speak. It's only works within a mile or so, but if in range, it’s much easier and clearer than scry speech," the sorceress answered hurriedly.
"Wow! Scrying, Far Speech, you magic types have all the cool stuff! I can't wait to learn it."
"*Ahem!* Focus Ashe," Isaura chided, "Tell me about the gas. Your thoughts quickly!"
"Oh! Yes, letting it dissipate would be easiest, but..."
Ashe had a sudden thought, but then shook her head, for what she first conceived would mean everyone in the palace would die. And she would NOT kill. Instead, She eyed the swift moving clouds above.
"Dilution is the solution to pollution," Ashe said.
"And what does that mean?" Isaura asked.
"It means... Zinjo, can you blow the way you did when you sealed The Hope of Aana, but at an angle," Ashe used her arm to show the angle upward she wanted, "and blow the gas upward? It soon would become harmless once the wind sweeps it away into the upper sky."
The giant nodded his understanding, grinned, took a deep, deep, deep breath, and with the sound of whooshing that mimicked a gale wind, blew a concentrated steady wind stream in the elevated angle Ashe's arm pointed.
The steady hurricane force winds sprayed the clay pot fragments everywhere, but also lifted the poisonous stagnant fumes high into the air, where the upper winds grabbed it and took it higher still, spreading and mingling, and carrying it away.
"Thanks Zinjo," Ashe said with awe when the giant stopped blowing. She turned to Isaura and whispered, "I think it's safe now."
"Thank you, Ashe," Isaura said to the young woman, the admiration clear in her voice. She spoke the Far Speak spell again, an addressed her younger sister once more.
"The gas is gone, Sister. Your troops may advance without fear."
"We heard a great wind from near you. Was that your doing? Are you certain it is safe?"
The sorceress looked at Ashe and smiled. "Very."
Soon, a trumpet sounded, and they heard the battle chant of the Alarian regiment as it rushed toward the palace.
The troops encountered no magical resistance either, as Elasha's own wizards suffered the same fate as she - their magic was gone - and quickly the Alarian wizards battered opened the palace doors with their spell.
Elasha's guards weren't disarmed, meeting the Arch Duchess' soldiers with fierce resistance inside the palace. Isaura's heart sank as Alarian blood was spilled - and their immortal lives ended - in the ancient Faeyra hallways. Isaura watched a contingent of Alarian wizards, led by her younger sister, push inside to join the fight.
"We've got to get inside and try to stop this tragedy," she said, turning to Zinjo and Ashe. "I fear for what will happen when di'Sona finds Elasha."
"Way iz clogged with soldiers," the giant answered as he surveyed the mass of men and women trying to squeeze through the palace doors to join the fight. "I fear I hurt many if I try to push through."
"There is another way, a secret entrance to the palace," Isaura said frowning. "Through the Sacred Pool of Aana."
"A secret entrance? Oh why doesn't this surprise me?" Ashe said wryly.
"I'm certain Elasha has more planned than battling this out," Isaura said. “And we have yet to hear from Blood Burn and his death plague."
"You don't think she would unleash that, do you?" Ashe said, alarm filling her voice. "Gods! It would kill her too!"
"If di'Sona traps Elasha... her hatred would blind her to reason; she is capable of anything," the sorceress replied. "I must be there to stop it!"
"Then let's go," Ashe said. "maybe Zinjo can-"
"No!" Isaura answered sternly. "The Pool is hallowed ground for Aana. It is the goddess' most sacred sanctuary. Her pure essence abides there. In the history of the Seven Kingdoms, no man has ever been permitted to approach it."
"Oh, I'd forgotten that," Ashe said, vaguely remembering from her university Seven Kingdoms history class something about the prohibition. "But surely with the stakes so high that rule can be overlooked this once!"
"No! It's not a case of 'suspending rules'!" Isaura said. "Any male setting foot on Aana's grounds is killed, instantly."
"Iz true," Zinjo answered. "Has always been so."
"Well, fuck me running!" Ashe muttered as she shook her head.
"Mount up, Ashe," Isaura said as she ran to her steed. "Zinjo, try to get through as best you can!"
The giant nodded and without another word, he bounded forward in huge leaps toward the palace doors.
Isaura watched as the giant suddenly jumped high into the air, to land on the barbican palace level, where he could enter without running over half the Alarian army.
"Smart," Isaura said with a smile. She turned to Ashe, and saw the girl was mounted. "Ready?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
The sorceress paused briefly to consider something, the one mystery that had troubled her for days - why had the young alquimista been transformed into a woman? Because now, they traveled to the one place in the Seven Kingdoms where Aesh could never come, yet Ashe was free to enter.
'Interesting,' the sorceress thought, then sighed in frustration. 'No time to think through the implication.'
"Follow meeee!" Isaura shouted, and spurred her mount into a gallop.
'Follow me?' Ashe thought, as she urged her own mount to give chase. 'Who's been reading cheesy romance stories now?'
***
The ride was exhilarating and quick, bringing the pair through a wooded path so dense with trees that Ashe felt she rode through a tunnel. They spilled out into a clearing that stood before an arched stone gate. An ancient moss-covered stone wall, six feet high, stretched away on either side for as far as Ashe could see. Above the top of the Arch rested a stone chalice. It looked familiar to her. She puzzled on it for a moment before she realized where she'd seen it before:
'In the reading with Ailana Crow. The goddess card! It's the cup she held!'
Isaura vaulted from her horse and walked quickly through the gate. Ashe dismounted slowly; taking a moment to absorb it: the gate to the goddess' most hallowed place in the Seven Kingdoms, and the surrounding forest and trees. For all the fame of this spot, and the danger that went with it, Ashe thought this entrance to Aana's Sacred Pool seemed pretty low-key.
'Maybe the front door is fancier.'
The young Alarian turned her gaze to the dense thick Eemen trees. To her, the place seemed lush, dense, and primeval.' she thought.
She noticed it then, the oddity: there were no sounds: neither bird song, nor rustling of leaves, only silence. She felt the strangeness, too, or rather it struck her, heavy, thick and all around.
'Anger! Deep seething anger!'
Ashe hurried through the gate to join Isaura.
"The goddess is pissed!"
Isaura started to chide Ashe about her irreverence, but stopped. The girl wasn't wrong - the sorceress had felt the goddess' displeasure growing stronger as they rode, and here Aana's presence was wrathful. This kind of wrath was usually followed by lightning bolts. “Pissed” was as accurate a word as any.
"Very. And there is why," Isaura raised her hand to point. "Where are the priestesses, and why haven't they removed that abomination?"
Ashe's gaze followed to the spot Isaura pointed. As she did, her sight traveled across the surface of a pool of water that was glass smooth; a mirror of gold to the canopy of ancient Eemen trees above.
What Ashe didn't know was that the pool could show so much more than reflecting images. For those trained deeply in the learnings of Aana, it is said that the pool might also show the First Days, the End Time, or even strange other worlds.
What Ashe did know was the thing Isaura pointed to, that which she called 'abomination', was a large cube, sitting at the pool's edge on the far shore. Inlaid with red gold leaf, she estimated its height at five feet.
"An alquimista puzzle box, I think," Ashe squinted, using every bit of her new elven enhanced vision to scan it. "What the hells is it doing here?"
"You think?" Isaura asked, her voice inflecting higher. "I need better! That shouldn't be there! It is a sacrilege beyond reckoning! The priestesses of the pool are missing, and Aana is only barely holding herself back from raining down fire and destruction! I feel it! Elasha has done this! But why?!"
"It sure looks like a puzzle box... it must be one, but-"
"-but what?" Isaura interrupted. "You've tried to open them, yes? Why the uncertainty?"
"There are twelve known puzzle boxes," Ashe said, "I've researched all of them, almost opened two, and know for certain this isn't one of-"
"-we don't have time, Ashe," Isaura grabbed Ashe's hand and started jogging around the pool shores. Once around it, there were stairs that led up to The Temple of Aana, and through that, they would come to the rear entrance of Beurl'Aana.
"My sisters are fighting nearby with their armies. Let's fly to the rear palace entrance and get that serum! We'll deal with this after."
"No, wait, wait!" Ashe said, thinking fast even as she jogged beside Isaura. "This may be important! The existing boxes were patterned after a thirteenth, the original. Theodophilus the Wise designed it; a master work. The Chronicle of Theodophilus claims it is far, far harder to open than the puzzle boxes that followed. The text stated he paid someone named Krornuik Aleminer to build it to Theo's exact specifications."
"Krornuik? Hmm."
That was a name Isaura hadn't heard in over six decades. She stopped running; her interest was sparked.
"My father commissioned several pieces from that old dwarf; his craftsmanship was unsurpassed in the Seven Kingdoms. He only worked with the finest dwarvian gold... red gold... Tell me more, but quickly. Was the original used in the alquimista master's test as the boxes are today?
"No, Theo meant for the box to house the chrysopeia - our “lead to” formula - for safekeeping," Ashe answered. "He designed the inner chamber to explode, if someone tried to break in or failed to answer the puzzle questions correctly."
"And so that’s what it was used for?" Isaura had thought they were on to something, for the large cube looked to her to be the work of Krornuik. But she failed to see what part this played in her sister's plans. And they needed to be moving again, now.
"Ultimately no. The text says - and I'm paraphrasing here - they figured out how incredibly fucking stupid the idea was. When they tested it, the puzzles Theo embedded in the cube were so hard even he couldn't open it. The alquimista masters started worrying-"
"-Okay, Ashe, okay," Isaura said, her patience at an end. She grabbed the girl's hand again. "It shouldn't be here, but we'll sort this out later. C'mon."
"No!" Ashe pulled away. "Don't you see? I'd bet you anything Breviar's serum is right here, locked inside the box!"
"It is?" They had reached the other side of the pool and were much closer to it. Isaura ran her hand gently over the buffer red gold surface. She tried to sense the life-cancelling threat that might rest within.
"Can you open it?"
"I ...doubt it, if Theo couldn't..."
Ashe had already found the knob to activate the first puzzle and her hand rested on it. She was tempted to try the cube, but stopped.
"...I think ...we must unlock it with Krornuik's key. One wrong answer, or the timer expiring and *boom*! Which would ignite the serum..."
"And life everywhere is annihilated," Isaura finished the thought. "This may be why Aana hasn't blasted it. What would happen if I used magic to move it-"
"-No! Any movement or force will trigger it."
"I was afraid of that," Isaura said. She was also afraid of who must possess the key.
'Elasha!'
"Hurry, Ashe," the sorceress said with urgency bordering on panic. She grabbed the girl and yanked her toward the stones steps leading up from the pool to the temple. "We've wasted too much time here!"
***
After Isaura and Ashe raced to Aana's temple, they found it unnecessary to run further to find them. The battle spilled out of the palace and found them.
Though Captain Argrove, his crew, and Elasha's guard fought a fierce defense, without her magic or their poisonous weapons, they were no match for the Alarian regiment. They managed to slow the Alarians enough to allow Elasha and her wizards... to retreat. They hadn't noticed Isaura and Ashe yet, because their heads craned back to the fighting.
As Ashe gazed through the magical looking glass Isaura had again raise, she tried to read Elasha’s expression: her face was so much like Isaura's; the classic Faeyra looks, she knew now, having also looked at di'Sona earlier too: rose red lips, dewy olive skin, and haunting ice blue eyes. But so different, too. Ashe read expressions she'd never seen on Isaura - hate and arrogance etched it in. She saw new ones too, surprise and fear.
"Watch this," Isaura said, raising her arms with wand in hand. "Ruhuss."
Ashe remembered from the magical attacks earlier the word meant 'shield', and also remembered the kind of magic Isaura named it - energui ingole,
"Energy magic," Ashe said, and felt the surge flow from the sorceress. She'd felt the strength of Elasha's energui ingole earlier, and knew instantly Isaura's was far, far stronger. Her 'shield' was an enormous wall. Ashe could see the air shimmering where it stood.
"Wow!"
"Glad you like it," Isaura said, with just the slightest hint of smugness. "Zinjo is always so stingy with the compliments when I do something amazing. They should be reaching it just about..."
A cadre of men and women in colorful full robes - wizards, Ashe assumed - were running toward them full tilt, when suddenly they slammed into something and fell to the ground.
"...now."
Several more cautiously bumped into it and began moving their hands along it to find an opening. More of Elasha's supporters found the wall, and shouted "we're trapped!" or other more panicked expressions.
Elasha herself joined the growing group, recognizing quickly the problem. Ashe watched her raise her wand, point it in the direction Isaura had placed her shield, her mouth moved to utter words, and ...nothing happened.
She screamed and screeched, her shouts growing all the louder when she spotted Isaura.
At that very moment, Captain Argrove - who apparently was not incentivized to “die to the last man” - shouted an order. His troops dropped their swords and held their arms in the air. The Alarian soldiers quickly surrounded them, taking their weapons and herding the prisoners back to the palace to, Ashe guessed, some room or even a dungeon where they could be held.
When Isaura saw Elasha and her advisors had also been surrounded, she lowered her shield.
"Where's Zinjo?" the sorceress scanned the crowd that was building around her older sister.
A chaos of sorts unfolded, then someone - the Alarian soldiers, Ashe presumed - had released the prisoners that were being held, and a large group of priestesses of Aana sprinted toward the sacred pool, pointing at the puzzle box, wailing and pulling their hair.
The mass of soldiers parted, to allow the Arch Duchess, di'Sona, and a half dozen black robed alquimistas to walk through to approach Elasha.Then Zinjo came storming forward, holding a man in his hands the way a child might hold a doll.(You’re not supposed to begin a sentence with “And”, but I will make an exception this time. )(On second thought, I like “Then” better.
"That's Breviar!" Ashe exclaimed.
"I figured," Isaura answered. "Let's hurry; we need to find the key to the box quickly. I don't think di'Sona or the Arch Duchess has any idea that the real danger still exists."
They elbowed their way to where di'Sona and Elasha stood, expecting to hear Elasha's capitulation. Instead, they heard her demands.
"...will withdraw your troops immediately. Further, you will abdicate all power to me."
"You're insane, sister," di'Sona said. "In what bizarro world do you inhabit where could you possibly think you could bargain with us?"
"And you," Elasha said, ignoring di'Sona as she turned her attention to Isaura, "you will restore my magic to me this instant!"
"Or what?" Isaura answered. "Here's what I think is going to happen. You will give me the key to the alquimista puzzle box now, and maybe, just maybe, we can bury you so deep in a dungeon that Aana's lightning bolts won't reach you."
"Puzzle box," the alquimista Vataz said, "what puzzle box?"
The gaggle of black robed alquimistas echoed similar responses.
"The one desecrating Aana's sacred pool down below her temple," Isaura said, nodding her head toward the marble building behind her. "Now, Elasha, the key please?"
"I underestimated you," Elasha said in a quiet voice. "Your powers have grown far beyond anything I could have ever imagined. In a way, I'm proud of you, Sister. And yet... have you not underestimated me as well? Since when have you ever known me to not have a backup plan, or even a backup plan for my backup plan?"
"Does she still pose a threat?" Myantha asked di'Sona. The two were drawn to where Isaura and Ashe confronted Elasha.
"I fail to see how, your Grace," di'Sona answered with a shrug. "her troops have surrendered, she has been stripped of her magic - nice trick that, Isaura - and all that remains is for us to find this 'potion' the rogue alquimista devised and either destroy it or safely store it. We have all the time in the world for that, and very persuasive tools to use as well."
"Do you?" Elasha said with a small smile. "Have all the time in the world? I suspect not. I think you have just about an hour before Blood Burn's serum is ignited and every living thing for thousands of miles around is destroyed."
"Explain yourself this instant," di'Sona said, "or I will rip the answers from your head."
From beneath her robe, the youngest Faeyra sister produced a rough iron collar.
"The Torc?" Myantha gasped. "But that is never to be used unless the Alarian council has approved and then only in the most dire of circumstances!"
"I'd say the annihilation of all life in the Seven Kingdoms probably qualifies," di'Sona answered smugly, and took a step toward Elasha. "Hold her!"
"No! Get that hideous thing away from me!" Elasha scrambled back, terror showing in her eyes. "I will gladly tell you everything!"
Ashe gave a questioning look to Isaura, to which the sorceress nodded sadly, and whispered:
"Yes, it is what Yoke of Despair tarot symbolized from the reading. And yes, it was used on you."
"You noticed perhaps the priestesses of Aana earlier?" Elasha said, her voice steadying. "It was I who imprisoned them and I who moments ago ordered them released. They seemed quite distraught."
"Of course they were," Isaura answered, her voiced filled with anger. "You defiled Aana's sacred... wait!"
"Oh no, no, no!" Ashe exclaimed, as the implications hit her as well. "They mustn't touch it!"
The two raced to the top of the steps to peer down. What they saw caused Isaura to raise her arm, point her wand and shout "llsaana!"
"Did they activate it?" Isaura turned back to Ashe.
The young Alarian surveyed the scene below - a dozen priestesses, standing statue still, frozen in the act of pushing the red gold box away from the edge of the pool. But the box itself wasn't frozen; even from far above the pool she could hear the whirring sound.
"No! The timer has started and the hour has begun!" Ashe exclaimed to Isaura, her face several shades paler. "We need the key now!"
"What key?" di'Sona asked. She, the Arch Duchess, her troops, Elasha, the other prisoners, and Zinjo, still carrying Blood Burn, had just now caught up. "And what is that box doing by Aana's sacred pool?"
"That box is Theodophilus' puzzle box," Ashe said hurriedly, more to the group than di'Sona. "In it is Professor Breviar's - or Blood Burn as you call him - anti-alkahest, the anti-life serum. If we don't use Krornuik's key to stop the timer, the box will explode, killing all life everywhere."
"Who are you, a woman, to speak thus of the alquimista mysteries?" the Alquimista Ifeus said, his voice tinged with indignation.
"Keep such base opinions to yourself," Vataz added, "and listen to your betters."
"I have no idea who she is," Elasha said, "but every word she spoke is true. Everyone you know will die unless you stop that box from exploding. And I have the key. So let's get back to my demands, shall we?"
"That can't possibly be true!" the Arch Duchess asked di'Sona. "Can it?"
"If the dead zone our agents found in the Qyrc Wilds was caused by what's in that box, then-"
"Oh, no, that's not correct," Blood Burn said, straightening his robes, having finally been released by Zinjo. "That hallowed place you called 'dead zone, was freed of any form of flawed life with but one drop of my anti-alkahest. The Empress was kind enough to provide me with the resources to produce a gallon of the serum that will restore perfection to the Seven Kingdoms. That is what is in Theodophilus' box."
"Hey, Professor Breviar," Ashe, said to the rogue alquimista. "I have a question for you."
"Yes, young woman?" Blood Burn was startled to hear his old title. "What is it?"
"What are you going to do for a face when the baboon takes his butt back?"
"What am I... what?" Blood Burn's mind temporarily stopped its manic fixation on the serum's activation as it tried to make sense of Ashe's insult.
"You fucking idiot!" It was Ashe's turn to have indignation in her voice. "First you pervert the purity of chrysopeia process! Then you devise plagues to inflict on people, the very opposite of everything we alquimistas hold true. Your maggot-infested mind next justifies the creation of a serum to annihilate the world, and finally, you have the gall to desecrate Aana's sacred pool with it!"
"Ashe, please," Isaura said gently. "This isn't helping."
"No! Someone needs to say it, Isaura!" Ashe said, "I hope Aana sends him to the Hell of the Slicing Scissors to cut off the fingers that created his serum, and then next to the Hell of the Tongue Ripping to-"
"-I like the way you think, girl," Elasha interrupted, and the admiration in her voice was sincere. "Yet you are wrong about one thing. It was I who placed the box beside Aana's Pool, and not this insane alquimista. How could he? He's a man."
"But why?" Isaura asked. "Our clan has guarded the sacred pool for millennia. Surely you can feel her anger, her wrath."
"Of course I can! I feast on it! She is powerless. She! A goddess!"
Elasha began pacing about, savoring her big reveal.
'In a way,' Elasha thought, 'winning this way, without my magic, is better, more dramatic.'
"I locked her priestesses away to keep them from causing mischief. I barred any from coming near, and kept the key with me. Only the dreary alquimista might have had a chance of opening it anyway, and if they set foot near the pool, pffffft. Aana herself strikes them down. But if she strikes the box, or moves it, the box explodes, and life, everything she holds dear ...gone."
As Elasha turned to face them she threw back her head.
"The goddess bows before me! And you shall too, or die in less than an hour. Your choice."
"Zis iz insurance I was telling you of, leetle one," Zinjo said, "Though iz stupid insurance, since she die also."
"Is what she said true?" the Arch Duchess asked di'Sona, "any of it?"
"All of it, I' fear" di'Sona said. "Now will you agree to the use of the Torc? We must have that key!"
"Yes, use it! Do all you must to get it!"
"Hold! If you do that, you will never have it in time," Elasha said. "I know not where it is. I gave it to Blood Burn to devise its safekeeping as the battle turned against us."
"That's easy enough to solve," di'Sona said, "we'll use it on-"
"-it won't work on him," Elasha said, "with the geases I've laid on him the Torc will instantly rip his mind asunder."
"Have no fear, my Empress," Blood Burn said with a bow, "I can never be made to show where the key to Theodophilus' box. It is perfectly safe."
"And so you see you must deal with me to..." Elasha stopped; something in the rogue alquimista's answer troubled her. "What do you mean by ‘perfectly safe’?"
"Every hiding place was flawed, for I could be forced to reveal its location. So..." Blood Burn paused, to smile, "I destroyed it with acid."
"You WHAT????" Elasha screamed. "We will all be killed!"
"And perfection will come to the Seven Kingdoms at last.”
"We shall attempt it," Ifeus said. He motioned to Vataz and the other alquimistas. "Together we shall open Theodophilus' box and secure the serum."
"Wait!" Isaura called to the group as they made their way to the stairs leading from Aana's temple to the pool below. "Stop, mortal!! You will be struck down if you put but one foot on a step on Her hallowed ground."
"We haven't time for your superstitions, woman," the alquimista answered as he stepped down the first stone stair. "For we-"
Whatever words Ifeus intended will never be known, for a lightning bolt fell from the heavens and struck him. After it did, only a blackened smoking flesh stump remained. The remaining alquimistas backed up several feet, wailing, and looking to the heavens in fear.
"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!" Ashe exclaimed, her face several shades whiter now. It didn't help that Elasha burst into laughter. Or that the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. "She just ...just ...just ...fried him!"
Isaura ignored the chaos erupting around them; she grabbed Ashe's shoulders hard and made the girl look into her eyes.
"Ashe! I know that was horrific but we don't have time for you to fall apart. Now we finally know why you were transformed," she said.
"W-we do?"
"Yes! Focus! Can't you see? It wasn't Ymra, but Aana who did it, so that you can open that box! Everything depends on you. Are you with me?"
Ashe wrenched her eyes away from the charred flesh stump, and willed her stomach to stop roiling. She turned to gaze down the temple steps at the scene below. The impossibly perfect pool, the still priestesses, frozen in mid-wail, and the red gold box. It stood, holding the essence of anti-life within, whirring softly, counting the minutes to release its death on the world.
Ashe's mind began whirring into action.
"You," Ashe said, whipping around to address Vataz the Alquimista, "Have the containment box brought here NOW, and for goddess' sake, be ready!"
"Insolent girl," Vataz said. "Why should I take orders from you?"
"Because if you don't do as I say, you son of a scrotum herder, my friend Zinjo will toss every last one of you creeps into the pool below. Right, Zinjo?"
"Iz most certainly true," Zinjo said, standing to his full height. He moved to tower over the cowering man. "Vould like demonstration?"
"N-no, we will get it," Vataz answered, trying to back away. "Though I predict you will most certainly fail to open Theodophilus' box."
"You can take your predictions and shove ‘em up your ass. Just have the containment box ready!" She turned back to Isaura. "Let's go!"
"That's my girl." Isaura turned to the others gathered behind. "I want no one to accompany us; we have little enough time as it is."
"That's absurd!" di'Sona said. "If you think we will allow your little apprentice to determine whether the rogue's plague is released to destroy the Seven Kingdoms, then you are as insane as Elasha."
"It was not a request," Isaura replied, and then turned to Zinjo. "A little help please?"
Zinjo nodded, popped his neck muscles in a roll of his neck, closed his eyes, and grew. Not only did his muscles, joints and bones make crackling sounds as his frame increased to ten, twenty, forty feet, but the earth groaned under his weight. Within one second a naked one hundred foot giant towered over the Alarians gathered at the steps to the pool. His voice boomed:
"COME. NO. FURTHER!"
The Arch Duchess held her hand high to get her troops attention.
And then did the one act which was wholly out of character for an Alarian leader - she did the sensible thing.
"Stand down. We will let Isaura Faeyra and her apprentice attempt to disarm the thing."
"Her name is Ashera," Isaura called back already racing down the steps with the girl. "You would do well to remember it."
***
"Well?" Isaura asked, after circling the box for a third time. "We've already wasted so much time. Where does it begin?"
"Here I think," Ashe said, running her hand over the face of the box which stood away from the water's edge.
"But there is nothing there! No keyhole or anything which might unlock it!"
Ashe didn't answer, instead popping open the alquimista kit at her side. She first plucked a vial full of powder from the box, and then a horsehair brush. Gingerly she dabbed the brush in the bottle, and then dusted the face of the box in its upper center.
Etched words appeared under her brush, and below the words a small hole became visible:
I am free for the taking through all of your life,
Though given but once at birth.
I am less than nothing in weight,
But will fell the strongest of you if held.
"What the hells does THAT mean?" Isaura asked.
Ashe didn't answer, but instead pulled a hollow straw from her kit. She placed it into the small hole and blew---
Whirring noises activated, and a large front panel swung open.
"Breath," Ashe said, replacing her items into her kit. "The answer is breath."
"I'll just... stay out of it, love," Isaura said. "You're doing fine."
Ashe looked into the panel to see the next puzzle test and saw a scale. Immediately below it was written:
'What goes in the water red and comes out black?'
"And what the hells..." Isaura stopped herself mid-sentence, and gave a little admonishing headshake. "Shutting up now."
Ashe barely heard her, her fingers were flying around inside her kit until they rested on an ingot. She pulled it out and placed it the scale. It bobbed once and then the whirring noise began again, with another panel opening; revealing a deeper chamber.
"Ohhhhh, iron!" Isaura said, as understanding dawned. "But, how did the scale know it was iron?"
"It's calibrated to the density of the metal," Ashe said, replacing the ingot back in the kit. She paused a moment. "You know, if we actually live to see her again, we'll need to thank Piproos for packing such a complete alquimista kit. Even the iron ingot she included was exactly the standard size."
Isaura nodded, but wondered then, how much of it was due to her little servant's diligence and how much was the goddess' hand at work. When she looked up, Ashe had already moved on the next puzzle.
And so it went, Isaura watched as the girl worked her way through each test, slowly working her way to the box's center. One test required Ashe to prepare an obscure compound and pour it down a chute. Another was a riddle again this time requiring her to arrange blocks to spell the element answer to the riddle. What was clear from the increasing rapid timing mechanism was that it would be very close.
The unimaginably high stakes coupled with the arcane and obscure tests were taking a toll on Ashe; Isaura saw her stress level rising with each spinning tick of the box. Her mutters became saltier with each tick and Isaura saw sweat forming on her brow. She gave such calming words as she could, but knew ultimately, that this was something Ashe faced alone.
"Oh fuck!"
"What?" Isaura asked. "What's wrong?"
"This. The final challenge."
Ashe stood aside so the sorceress could see the challenge. It was actually entitled 'The Final Challenge.' The first paragraph of it read:
Pushed forward the oxen plowed, plowing a white field, held a white plow, and sowed the wet black seed.'
Below it, a second paragraph:
'It Was A Tradition Long Ago, When The World Was Dark And Full Of Woe When Men Turned Darkness Into Light, By Mixing, Melting And Decanting In The Night, To Seek For Youth And Gold And Riches, Just To Be Burned As Witches.'
Followed by a third:
A house based on a foundation like the skies
A house one has covered with a veil like a secret box
A house set on a base like a goose
One enters it blind
Leaves it seeing.
Finally, below that was a long thin slot. The sorceress heard the fear when Ashe spoke her next words:
"I... have... no... fucking... clue!"
"Don't panic! Take a deep breath." Isaura ran her hand gently through Ashe's hair, moving stray strands out of her face.
"There's no time!" Ashe turned to Isaura. "I think there's not much more than a minute left on the timer! Isaura, I've let you down! I'm so sorry!"
"I will not hear such talk!" Isaura said, after she gave the girl a shake. "Your intent must not be to avoid failure. Shape your intent with heart!"
"Heart? 'kay... okay... the white field could be a... a... female symbol, while the plow a male symbol, and... and... the black seed a reincarnated metallic gold...?"
"And don't overthink it either, leetle one!" Zinjo's voice boomed down from above. "Leetle brains do that."
"Don't over think... riiiight... um... 'plowing a white field' ...paper? The 'white plow' ... a quill? And... and...wet black seed...ink!"
Ashe's hand flew into her kit to grab her paper, quill and an ink bottle.
"What does that mean?" Isaura asked, unable to follow Ashe's thoughts.
"Fucking Theodophilus!" Ashe answered. She quickly unfolded the paper. "He's made the final challenge answer a written one."
"Tradition long ago..." Ashe's eyes danced quickly over the second passage quickly. "...Just To Be Burned As Witches.' That's... alquimistas!"
The box's timer was whirring faster and faster. Isaura raised her wand to cast a containment spell if the box exploded, which she expected at any second.
"Hurry."
"A house based on a foundation like the skies, A house one has covered with a veil like a secret box, A house set on a base like a goose, One enters it blind, Leaves it seeing. That's... that's..." Ashe's mind was racing faster than it had in her life, racing against the timer now. That's a school!!"
"So what's the answer?" Isaura asked.
"It's ...it must be ...the symbol for an alquimista school!"
"It's the Alef symbol then? The 'Hidden Tradition?'" Isaura heard the ignition mechanism clicking in the box attempting to spark. "Hurry! Draw it now!"
Ashe started to do just that, draw the 'N' like symbol, but stopped, her hand quivering. Then with a steady hand, she dipped the quill in the ink, drew a pentacle star surrounded by a circle, and slid the paper into the slot.
Suddenly the clicking and whirring noises ...ceased. After several long moments of eerie silence, the box emitted a large *pop*, as the final chamber opened.
A large jar stood within on a shelf, filled with a green bubbling liquid.
"You did it!!!!!!" Isaura grabbed Ashe and bear hugged her, making the girl oof. "Praise be to Aana! You saved everyone, everywhere!!!! I guess we now know who the Queen of Keys is from the tarot reading."
"W-we do?"
"It's you, silly," Isaura beamed. "You were amazing!"
"Kay, um, peachy, would you please take the serum out, please, before the damn box decides to explode anyway," Ashe whispered. "My hands are shaking."
Isaura nodded, unwrapped her arms from Ashe's body, and reached in to lift the jar. Gingerly, she backed away from the box.
"After all you've been through, I'm so very proud of you!" Isaura said, gazing into the glass jar she held. It mesmerized her, the deadly potential of it, seemingly sparkling with darkness. "Will this glass contain it?"
"I... I don't know. In theory... if it contains no organic matter." Ashe said, looking into the bubbling blackness as well. "Let's not test the theory. We need to get it into a lead containment box fast, and then... then I don't know."
"Agreed. But Ashe, question." When Ashe nodded 'yes' Isaura continued. "Why did you draw a pentacle instead of the Alef?"
"Because in Theodophilus' day, that was the symbol," Ashe answered. "It only was changed to 'Alef' about thirty years ago."
"Oh! But how did the box know what you wrote was the old symbol... the correct symbol?"
"I think that after the paper passes through the slot it lands on a scale," Ashe answered. "And that scale is so finely calibrated that it could weigh the exact amount of ink needed to make the correct symbol. Any amount of ink above or below that ...boom!"
"That's astonishing!" Isaura said.
"Yeah, I suppose," Ashe said. "But I kinda think if Theodophilus sat around thinking up things like this box, then he had waaay too much time on his hands."
Suddenly, with a series of popping and snapping sounds, the puzzle box snapped shut.
"We should move away from it," Ashe said. "I think it just reset and can be triggered again."
"I've got a better idea."
Isaura raised her wand and spoke the words to unfreeze the priestesses. She and Ashe then gathered the confused women and led them away from the pool and box to the bottom stairway leading to the temple.
"But Mistress Isaura," the highest ranking priestess said. "We must remove that thing! This abomination desecrates Aana's hallowed ground! Cannot you feel her displeasure surrounding us?'
"I can and do, Revered Mother. But I rather think now this evil concoction has been removed" - Isaura held up the jar filled with volatile darkness - "the goddess will-"
From the sky, a blinding white bolt of lightning sizzled down, striking the box, obliterating it into smoke and charred rubble.
"-take matters into her own hands," Isaura finished her sentence, casting a reverent smile to the heavens. "You should probably have that mess removed quickly.”
The wide-eyed priestess nodded, and led her fellow priestesses back to the pool to do just that.
***
As the pair reached the final step to the temple, they were met with cheers from the Alarian troops, who banged their swords on their shields, and chanted "woot, woot, woot."
A wail sliced through the cheers, one of bitterness and desperation.
"No! Nooooo!"
Blood Burn ran wildly at the pair, through his guards before they could react to grab him. He neared them, his eyes fixed on the serum Isaura held.
"My serum must be freeeeed!"
Before he could take one more step, a giant hand swatted him, sending high in the air. Blood Burn's flight arc took him down to the pool, where they heard a *kersplash*.
Less than two seconds later, a second energy bolt shot from the sky.
"The one known as Blood Burn is no more," Zinjo's voice boomed over all. "I sent him to Aana for judgement for his crimes. She was most displeased."
"You, Vataz!" Isaura addressed the large group black robed alquimistas. "The containment box, now!"
"Yes, great sorceress, immediately." He and several of his brethren lugged the leaden box to Isaura and opened its door.
Once Ashe heard the *clang* of the door closing to the containment box, she finally -finally - breathed a sigh of relief. She felt even better when Zinjo, reached down and snapped the latch off the door, preventing any from ever opening it again.
"Thank the goddess," Ashe managed to whisper. She was completely, utterly spent. Yet it was a good kind of spent. Yes, she had so many issues ahead of her. Could she be changed back to her old body? Now she knew Aana transformed her, could the goddess be petitioned to change her back? And if not, what would she do?
But at this moment, she didn't worry over those things. Instead, she felt the glow of satisfaction that came from a race well run.
"We did it! We actually did it!" she whispered to Isaura, smiling ear to ear. "If I were to die right now, it would be okay, because, really, who can say they've saved the whole freaking world?"
"Hush, child, don't speak that way," Isaura said. It bothered her to hear that fatalism creeping into Ashe's voice. For she still sensed an impending doom.
"And of course we did it," Isaura smiled, "With the Queen of Keys working the problem, was there ever any doubt?"
"Well," di'Sona said, "Shall we gloat to Elasha?"
"Not at all," the sorceress said dismissively, and turned to the Arch Duchess. "Your Grace, we must find a way to destroy this serum. Or, if that's not possible, a place to store that will be safe. Like in the deepest depth of the ocean, or at the bottom of the darkest mineshaft."
"Yes, I agree completely," Myantha replied.
It was almost as much of a relief to her that the middle Faeyra sister turned out to be sensible, as it was to secure the rogue's serum. Unlike her feelings for the other Faeyra siblings, Myantha herself started liking the sorceress.
"If you won't gloat, then I will," di'Sona said, and turned to face her oldest sister. "You've lost everything. Once Isaura told of your ships full of ransom for the other kingdoms, we mobilized to end your madness. All your pitiful plans laid low. And now here you stand, bereft of your magic, and at my mercy."
"Arrrrrgh! It was you who has opposed me all along!" Elasha screamed, her finger, quivering with rage, pointed at Isaura. "You have been my true enemy. And I swear to Ymra you will pay."
"I will pay?" Isaura rose to her full height and faced Elasha, rage showing in her eyes now too. "You sent Shea to her death! I am - just barely – controlling my temper from blasting you into nothingness.”
"Oh, yes, Shea. I'd forgotten about her." Elasha's voiced calmed, and a smile crept over her face. "I have a gift for you."
From her robes she pulled a deep red velvet bag. Sensing danger, the Alarian soldiers unsheathed their swords.
"Oh please! As my youngest sister has so eloquently pointed out, I am completely helpless and harmless."
Elasha hummed an old Alarian nursery tune as she carefully pulled a pulsing crystal from the sack by a silver chain. She was very careful not to touch the stone.
"That's a Caxenar memory crystal!" Isaura's eyes grew wide. The sorceress was so stunned Elasha held it that she didn't think to cast a simple freeze spell. "Is it..."
"Shea's? Why, yes. Yes it is."
"Give it to me now!"
"Oh I was, sister, I was. Think of it, all her memories, right here,” Elasha smiled, and held it up to peer at it. "I was certain if I gave it to you, you would eventually touch it and be driven mad, as all who touch another's memory stone are. Would you like it? Or should I drop it, letting it shatter on the ground? Beg me, Isaura. beg for it."
"Please... Elasha... it's all I have left of my daughter... please give it to me..."
"You know, I'm not so sure I should." Elasha held the stone higher. "You somehow managed to find a female alquimista. I bet you'd figure out how to retrieve these memories somehow too. No, I think I've changed my mind. I'll give it-"
Elasha flicked the chain sharply and let go, sending the crystal spinning through the air ...at Ashe.
"-to her."
Pure reaction took over, and Ashe's hand shot up to catch it. The instant she did, the pulsing crystal darkened, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she crumbled to the ground.
"Ashe no!!!!" Isaura rushed to the fallen girl and pulled the stone from her hand. Zinjo - normal sized now - took it from Isaura and crushed it.
"Too late!" Elasha laughed. "You fool! You thought you'd foiled me? I always have one more card to play, Sister. And now I've killed all you hold dear. Hey! I've got an idea! Why don't you bury her next to Shea? They can keep each other company!"
As Elasha's cackling continued, Isaura rose, inventorying all the spells she could cast upon her sister, for all the pain she had inflicted. In the end, she simply punched Elasha as hard as she could, feeling the satisfying crunch of her sister's nose under the blow, and sending her to the ground, unconscious and – thankfully - silenced.
***
"Come, you must rest. I vill watch leetle one."
"No!" Isaura shouted. Then her voice gentled. "No, stay, if you wish, for you give me comfort, old friend, but I will not leave her."
"It's been three days," Zinjo said.
She didn't hear him say 'and her condition hasn't changed,' but the words hung in the air nonetheless.
For three days Ashe had lain in a bed at Beurl'Aana, and the sorceress never left her side.
"But she's not dead," Isaura said, her voice pleading. "She breathes. Her face moves. I've seen it."
The healers admitted they were baffled, for all known instances where someone touched the Caxenar crystal of another, death was instantaneous. But the healers expressed little hope there was anything left of Ashe's mind. The twitches, they reckoned, were involuntary muscle spasms.
"She survived the Torc, and the Cavern of Dearmad. She can survive this too. Maybe her mind, in this regard, is unique?"
Isaura paused, considering what she'd said, and all the other things Ashe had braved, too. Her transformation. Her quest to stop the madman, and to save lives.
"Why, Zinjo? Why did the goddess, after all Ashe went through... no! After all Aana put her through, why did she allow this?"
"I am sure she have her reasons," Zinjo answered softly. “Yes?”
Isaura shrugged; she wasn't in the mood for a theological debate on the vagaries of the gods.
If she was honest with herself - and now, more than ever in her life Isaura was - she'd admit there was more to this than a re-dredging of her grief for Shea. Yes, of course, this brought that other grieving hot to her emotional surface. But more than that, in the brief time since the girl had awakened in the Cavern, she had stolen Isaura's heart.
"Remember when I'd frozen the Caphilian soldiers, and she pulled the trousers down of that odious corporal?"
"Ho, ho, ho, yes! Or when she start to tell me she vasn't hungry and then she almost dove in stewpot!"
"She was so funny reading from the atlas on the way to Caphilia. She thought I wasn't listening, but I heard every word."
"Or vhen leetle one didn't warn me boat was flying..."
"...and you almost fell into the sea... peeing!"
They laughed again at that, remembering how hard Ashe had laughed when it happened over the Serene Sea. They laughed even harder, as they recalled some of the colorful phrases the girl had uttered.
Isaura put her hand on Ashe's cheek, and stroked it.
"She's ...very special, Zinjo, isn't she?"
"I think, if leetle one's body were same size as her heart, she vould be bigger than Zinjo."
And still the coma lay heavy on the girl.
***
On the fourth day of Ashe's coma, the Arch Duchess summoned Isaura to meet with her. Isaura considered ignoring the summons, but decided she should probably step away for a brief meeting with Myantha. After all, she was the ruler of all Alari.
"Yes, your Grace?" Her voice was sad, heavy with weariness.
"No change, I take it?" After the sorceress shook her head, Myantha placed her hand on Isaura's shoulder.
"I'm very sorry. Zinjo has told me of what she went through ...all she went through ... and she is truly remarkable. And on the heels of Shea's death..."
Myantha felt the tremor in Isaura’s body at the mention of her daughter's name. She backed away from Isaura and bowed her head.
"I want to apologize for sending Shea into harm's way, to ...to her death, really. Had I known of the dangers I would not have sent her."
"Thank you," Isaura answered, struggling to say more. She was torn, wanting to scream 'How could you have done it?!' but also, she now knew Aana's hand was behind so much of what happened. That Shea and Aesh would meet, that di'Sona would turn over the new 'Ashe' to her. Taking a deep breath, Isaura gave a different answer than what first sprang to mind:
"I am honored you chose Shea for the mission, Arch Duchess. My sister said you chose Shea because of the gravity of the mission - that you needed your best agent."
Myantha blinked several time, trying to pick her next words carefully.
"Don't get me wrong, Isaura, I recognized the potential in your daughter, and knew one day she would be our best agent, but she wasn't yet that."
"I don't understand," Isaura said. "di'Sona told me-"
"-What she told me," Myantha interrupted, "was that the mission in Caphilia was simple reconnaissance, low danger."
"She lied," Isaura stated dully; was her purpose to give Shea an opportunity to impress? To succeed? Or was this yet another Faeyra scheme to screw another sister? Isaura was too numb to muster any emotion. Finally she managed a weak, "I suppose I should confront her."
"Not soon I hope, for she is not in favor with me at the moment." When Myantha saw question on Isaura's face, she explained. "Against my explicit orders, she used the Torc on Elasha."
"Oh... goddess..." Isaura said, her hand going to her mouth. "So Elasha's is..."
"Barely there," Myantha nodded. "Vacant eyes, dulled speech, mind gone..."
Isaura's mind tuned out the Arch Duchess for a moment, as images of her childhood flashed and faded. Memories of a time, so long ago, when she and her sisters played in an apple orchard, here at Beurl'Aana. She remembered it well - the first day of the month of Seella, Goddess Of Summer. All the trees were in bloom. Glorious hues of pink and white fleeced the trees; clusters of five buds centered around the central blossom, the King Blossom, fluttering everywhere.
So they ran in between the fragrant trees, carefree little girls, she and di'Sona and Elasha, their long-flowing hair covered in pink and white flowers, screaming, laughing and dreaming of the apples to come.
'Where did it all go wrong?'
And so her oldest sister was just ...gone?
'I should feel something, shouldn't I? A twinge of sadness, or regret... something...'
But she didn't. It was all so anticlimactic, and she was so very numb.
'I wonder... am I dead too?'
"...Oh, she answers all questions put to her." Myantha's voice brought Isaura back to the present. "She has given us every detail of her schemes. We should be able to return the ransoms to the other kingdoms, with assurances the guilty parties have been dealt with, and maybe avoid all-out war. But this was not what I wished. I am now persuaded by your argument that the Torc must never be used again."
"Excellent!" Isaura sighed in relief, at that small bit of good news. "It is pure evil."
Isaura admitted to herself that she cared little that her older sister was, essentially, dead now. Instead she thought of the tragedy she barely averted, of Ashe's mind nearly destroyed by the hideous device. Like the serum, it must be destroyed.
'And yet, in the end, her beautiful mind was destroyed anyway,' Isaura thought. She looked back in the direction of Ashe's room and her eyes grew misty. 'Oh Ashe, I failed you! I didn't protect you!'
"I'm sorry," Myantha said, reaching out to Isaura again. "I didn't come here to tell you this. But, just so you know, I have not ordered the Torc to be destroyed, yet."
"But why? You said it yourself - it must never be used again!"
"And it won't," Myantha said. "This I swear to you. But if I order it removed, Elasha will die. It has been so for all who have worn it."
'All save one,' Isaura mentally amended. 'And if Ashe survived that, couldn't she also survive this?"
"And so I've decreed it shall remain on Elasha until she dies," Myantha said. "And as punishment for di'Sona's disobedience, I have further ordered that she must care for Elasha for as long as she lives. There shall be no torture of Elasha either. My edict is explicit, if she is found abusing Elasha in any way, the Torc shall be removed from Elasha and placed on di'Sona instead."
Isaura's eyes widened as she thought through the implications. For all the hatred her sisters had for each other, and all the suffering caused by it, to have one forced to care for the other for the rest of their lives was a form of justice Isaura found to be...
"Perfect. But ...if telling me this wasn't the reason you summoned me, then what is?"
"I want you to take Blood Burn's serum, and destroy it, if possible, and if not, to hide it so none may ever find it."
"No! I won't leave Ashe's side!" Isaura said. "You must find someone else to do it.
"I can trust no one else!" the Arch Duchess said, her voice filled with passion. "Already word is spreading among the clans of a mysterious all-powerful 'weapon' at Beurl'Aana which could be used as leverage against the clans, or even the other kingdoms!"
"That will surely lead to disaster," Isaura said; she was certain it would. In her experience, anything that is designed as a weapon eventually is used as a weapon. "But you must find someone else. I won't leave Ashe's side."
"There IS no one else who could do this! You are the most powerful sorceress I've ever seen. I now know what you are capable of. You could easily remove me and become ruler of Alari if you wanted."
"But I don't want that," Isaura said. "I've never wanted that!"
"I know, that's why I trust you. So you know, I've been talking with the alquimistas, and the more I understand about what Blood Burn created, the more it scares the living daylights out of me! I've dispatched agents to Edefia to gather and destroy the man's notes. But foremost, his serum must be destroyed!"
"I agree completely," Isaura answered. "But I will. not. leave. Ashe. Got it?"
"Is that what Ashe would have wanted?" Myantha responded. Changing tactics, she added, “She chased the rogue alquimista across the world, endured terrible torture at the hands of di'Sona – yes, I am now aware of that crime as well, of all that occurred - and succeeded in preventing the serum from being unleashed. Would you have her death be in vain?"
"She's not dead!"
"No, but, you know what I mean," Myantha said softly.
And Isaura did know, that every healer who'd seen Ashe walked away shaking her head.
"That's not fair," Isaura said, her eyes stricken with new grief. "Putting it like that..."
"I'm not fair!" Myantha answered. "My foremost concern is for the safety of our people."
It was at that moment Isaura realized the Alarians finally, after centuries of despotic rule, had a just ruler.
She also knew what Ashe would tell her if she could speak - the serum must never, ever, ever be used.
'No, her language would be more colorful than that, but that would be the gist if it.'
She gave a long sigh. She was going to have to do this. She really, really didn't want to, but Ashe would have wanted it.
"You must swear to me while I am gone, Ashe will be taken care of-"
"-of course! The best of our healers shall tend to her night and day until you return."
"Also, I'll need The Hope of Aana brought from Hithui Ael to the coast, and-"
"-That's your ship? How am I supposed to transport a ship across land-"
"-never mind," Isaura interrupted the Arch Duchess. "Zinjo and I will arrange it. Meet me with the serum at..."
Isaura pictured the northern Alarian coast, as she tried to land upon a port town that might not draw too much attention.
"...Ayrith, in two days’ time."
"I will have the entire army accompany me to protect it," Myantha said.
"No! That would draw too much attention! Be discreet. Bring your most trusted soldiers only. And definitely not di'Sona."
"No, I agree completely. I am done with her," Myantha said. "Present company excepted, you Faeyra don't have many redeeming qualities."
"We do make excellent villains," Isaura said, mustering a faint smile.
"Then we have a deal?" the Arch Duchess asked.
"Yes, we do. And now, if you will excuse me, your Grace, I must get back to Ashe."
"Of course. If there is anything else you need, anything... er, other than flying ships," Myantha grabbed Isaura's hand, and squeezed it, "just let me know, and it will happen."
"Thank you," Isaura said, emotion welling in her again, making her throat tighten, and eyes mist once more. "But the only thing I need is for - how would Ashe put it? - the only thing I need, is for her to fucking wake up."
***
Two days later
The 1st day of the month of Iqenta, Goddess Of Beginnings
The port city of Ayrith
Isaura might have been immortal, but she was not all-powerful. Days of standing vigil by Ashe had taken their toll, so when her carriage arrived at The Hope of Aana's berth at the Ayrith docks, she was barely able to keep her eyelids up.
Zinjo arranged for her ship's overland portage. How it happened he never told her, but she assumed in the dark of night, he shifted to his larger aspect and simply carried it.
The giant had hired a dozen of the best Alarian boatswains from the town to add finishing touches to the magically built ship, and was eager to show Isaura what they'd done. But the sorceress was beyond weariness, and seeing the changes would depress her more anyway, for she thought of The Hope of Aana as their ship, the three of them.
It would be at least several hours before the Arch Duchess arrived with the serum, so Isaura managed to climb down from the deck to the cabin, and crawl into her bunk, and instantly collapse into a deep dead slumber...
...where she dreamed...
She was surrounded by darkness. Did she feel something swirling and damp around her? Mist? Perhaps fifteen yards in front of her, she saw a man standing. Or rather, she saw his back, for he faced away from her. He was tallish with brown hair, but they were the only details that she could discern.
"I must choose? Two paths? What are they?" Isaura heard the man ask. Did she recognize that voice? Yes, she did!
'It's Aesh! That's the voice I heard from the memory of the fortune teller, and again, with Shea in Imis!'
Isaura tried to call out, but no sound came from her lips.
She heard someone answer his question. Almost heard. Words were spoken, she was sure, but their meaning slipped away from her. The voice sounded like chimes to her.
Isaura squinted to see whom he had spoken to; he seemed to be staring into a white glowing light. Almost she could make out a figure in the brightness. A woman? She wasn't sure.
Suddenly that changed, instead of the light, there were images of a crowded auditorium, filled with cheering men. In the center, a man stood, wearing the robes of an alquimista master, and with his hood down, she could see his features: He was young, no more than twenty, with brown hair and bright engaging eyes. He spoke:
"I am truly humbled by this honor, comrades. Thank you."
'That's his voice again! Aesh's! I swear it is!'
The images changed again. It looked like a study, perhaps, for in the background were rows and rows of bookshelves, filled with tomes. The spaces on the walls of the study that weren't filled with books, but held pictures, frames of certificates and awards.
In front, a man sat at a rich wooden desk, writing something on parchment with a quill. She knew it was Aesh again, but older, for gray streaks filled his hair, and wrinkles lined his face. He wore different robes now, but ones she recognized still, the robes of a headmaster of a university.
Suddenly the images vanished, and Isaura stood once more behind Aesh, who was, once more, looking into a glowing light.
"And the other path?" she heard him say.
But just as different images were starting to form, something shook her body. A different voice cut through her consciousness.
"Isaura, wake! Iz time! Arch Duchess has come and Zinjo does not want to tell her you are snoring."
Isaura shook her head, trying to throw off the heaviness of her sleep.
'Who was Aesh talking to? Was it Aana?'
She felt it clear that one path offered to Aesh was success and fame as an alquimista, truly something he would have enjoyed. A life he so richly deserved and had earned.
'But what was the second path? And which did he choose in the dream?'
The sorceress mouthed a silent curse, chiding herself for her naive and wishful thinking. By all the healers' accounts, Ashe would never recover from her coma.
Isaura propped herself up on her elbows in her bunk and cleared the sleep from her eyes.
"I'm awake, Zinjo," she called. Then she whispered to herself, 'though I wish to the goddess I wasn't.'
***
Once she'd climbed on deck, Isaura saw the royal Alarian carriage just pulling up to the dock. A squad of twelve of the elite guard, the 'Swift Swords', surrounded the carriage.
The carriage door opened, and a high-heeled stocking clad leg stretched out. A guard reached a hand in, and helped the Arch Duchess out. Myantha wore a royal blue chiffon gown, inlaid with white lace. The gown covered her shoulders, but only just, and was held in place by two spaghetti straps. Its front flowed down into a semi-sweetheart neckline, subtly accentuating her breasts.
Isaura walked down the gang plank to greet the Alarian ruler. She couldn’t keep the snide smile off her face.
"I thought I mentioned 'discreet' in my instructions, Myantha."
"This is discreet. Ugh! I hate wearing this finery! I envy you sorcerers. All you ever need is a simple robe," Myantha replied. "I accepted an invitation to Baron Carvalur's Spring Ball this evening at his nearby estate. This is but a slight detour. I thought the ball was the perfect cover.”
"Carvalur? He's an odious toad," Isaura said.
"Tell me about it," the Arch Duchess replied, as she motioned to her guards.
The men quickly unloaded a wooden crate from the top of the carriage.
Isaura didn't bother to ask, for she knew that the lead containment box was within it. So instead, she asked the question that had been trying to burst from her lips the moment the carriage arrived.
"Ashe... is she ...has there been any change?"
"I will give you a full report in just one moment. But I have something else I must discuss with you."
It troubled her that the Arch Duchess delayed answering her question. A sense of dread crept in.
"Yes? What is it?"
"The alquimistas that accompanied us in the battle with Elasha petitioned me to allow one of them to accompany you on your mission."
"You said no, right?" Isaura asked her.
"I did not. It seems to me an alquimista master might be helpful in figuring out if the serum can be destroyed."
"I will not agree to this!" Isaura's blood pressure spiked fast; she couldn't imagine anyone other than Ashe sailing with her in The Hope of Aana. "This is non-negotiable."
A black robed figure stirred in the carriage, stepping out to stand with Myantha. Since the alquimista's head was fully hooded, Isaura didn’t know who it was.
"I say ‘alquimista master’," Myantha continued, "but technically, as the alquimistas took great pains to assure me, this one is not an alquimista master. Nor even an alquimista."
"I... maybe I'm too tired and depressed," Isaura said, "but I don't understand any of this!"
"Me neither, I mean I opened that gods damned box! That makes ME a master."
Isaura's heart fluttered double fast. She knew that voice!
"I saved their asses big time, and you wanna know why they won't? Because I'm a woman!" Ashe whipped her hood off, flashing her mischievous smile. "The rat bastards. Fuck 'em, I’ll start my own club!"
Isaura lunged forward to wrap the girl in a bear hug, making Ashe say 'oof'. They both 'oofed' when first a loud 'Leetle One!' bellowed in the evening air, followed by huge pounding sounds of feet running down the gang plank, and then massive arms wrapped around them and lifted them into the air.
When Zinjo brought the two back to earth, and they finally unclasped their embrace, Myantha cleared her throat.
"She awoke this morning," Myantha said. "We'd actually just left Beurl'Aana to come here; a messenger hailed us with the news. I returned instantly, of course. She insisted on coming with us. The healers pitched a fit about her needing to stay in bed, but Ashe put her foot down, saying she wanted to go home. Well, that was the gist of it; you know, she has quite a mouth on her.”
Ashe simply smiled and blew the Arch Duchess a kiss.
Isaura stopped herself from asking if Ashe meant 'home to Edefia,' for she read in Ashe's expression that was not what her intent. The girl's bright eyes told Isaura that home, meant 'Isaura.' And Isaura saw something different in her eyes too, something so familiar. Isaura had a sudden thought, and turned to Myantha.
"You told me when we met the other day that you would provide me with anything I needed," Isaura said, her voice tight with emotion.
Myantha nodded her head cautiously. That was a dangerous statement to make for any ruler, but she had said it.
"I want you to alter the birth rolls in the Hall of Archives in Imis. I want the rolls to show that Ashera Faeyra is my daughter. My natural daughter."
"That's...it?"
Isaura looked quickly at Ashe for her reaction. The girl's beaming smile was all the confirmation she needed.
"Yes, there is nothing I want more."
"Done." The Arch Duchess motioned to her guard, and they quickly prepared to leave. "And now I must hurry to my rendezvous with the ever so pleasant Baron Cadaver. Er, I mean Carvalur."
"Thank you," Isaura smiled, and wrapped her arm around Ashe's shoulders. "For everything."
"No, thank you, and you Ashe, and Zinjo," Myantha replied. "The world may never know the debt it owes you, but I do."
"Oh, and Isaura? I know you are not moved by royal decrees, so I have a request," Myantha said as she stepped back into her royal carriage. "I know it is not your way, and that you prefer the life of the road. But would you try to visit Alari more often? Please? I crave your guidance ...and company."
Isaura's smile was genuine when she answered her ruler.
"Deal!"
***
After Zinjo loaded the containment box holding Blood Burn's anti-life serum into the cargo hold, they wasted no time in drawing anchor, raising the sails and sailing away from the lush Alarian coast.
Isaura said little for the first hour they were underway. Between the misty spray of the waves off the bow of The Hope of Aana, the soft red glow of the setting sun, the laughter of Zinjo, and Ashe at the terrible jokes she told to them, everything took on a dreamlike aura.
She didn't want to break the mood either, for part of her worried - the still wounded part - that it was a dream and that when she awoke, Ashe would be gone. She didn't think she could survive that, for the girl was suddenly so much more...
'But why?'
Yet she knew she must break it because they needed a destination. Isaura turned from the helm wheel to the two standing beside her.
"So, where to? Can the serum be destroyed by fire? The Obsidian Peaks are not too many leagues from here, and there are active volcanos in them."
"No!" Ashe answered. "That would be the worst thing we could do. According to his notes, Professor Breviar designed the serum to be exceptionally reactive to flame."
Her answer triggered another thought to Isaura.
"Were his notes widely distributed at Edefia?"
"Actually, no," Ashe said. "After I briefed the masters on them and when they understood the horrors they held, the headmaster ordered them locked away. No one was permitted to read them."
"Good, excellent!" Isaura said with relief. "Myantha dispatched spies to steal the notes and destroy them. Soon the mad professor's notes on how to create the serum will only exist in the beautiful brain of yours."
"Iz all part of leetle one's evil plans," Zinjo said, laughing.
"Buhahaha! Yesssss," Ashe said. "The world shall be mine!"
"You know, your brain is pretty amazing. It survived the Torc, which no one has ever done, it survived my little experiment in the Cavern of Dearmad, and now it’s survived touching the Caxenar memory crystal of another. Again, something no one has ever done!"
"Yes," Ashe said, "my brain is fucking awesome."
"Iz true, it iz your second best trait," Zinjo said, smiling, "humility being your number one."
"Agreed," Ashe giggled. "My humility is super fabulous."
"Ashe, I... I have to ask." The sudden seriousness in Isaura's voice changed the mood. "What, um ...did Shea's... the crystal and memories… I mean, what, uh, did it..."
"Do to me?" Ashe decided to rescue Isaura from her floundering.
"Yes."
Ashe gently pulled Isaura's hands from the helm, taking them in her own. She looked up into Isaura's eyes.
"Do you remember the time we went to that spooky place when I was six?" Ashe said. "We were in some goddess forsaken part of Keoba..."
"Y-you mean the ruins of the Temple of Ender? I took Shea there, yes,"
"It was called something Crypts, Grim, Grime-
"Grimwood Crypts," Isaura confirmed with a whisper.
"That's it... and you were searching for one particular crypt, a wizard's, Crevius I think, because the legend was that he was buried with a magical item, a... fleece."
"The Soul Fleece," Isaura said, mesmerized, now.
"And we ran into this whacky paladin who tried to convert us to follow his god. Since he was immune to glamours, to make him leave us alone, you convinced him I had lunatic goat disease, by putting fizzy powder in my mouth to make it foam and..."
"-So, you have her memories," Isaura interrupted. She was becoming uncomfortable with the way Ashe recalled them as her own.
"No," Ashe said. "These are my memories. Mine!"
"But sweetie, they couldn't be yours-"
Isaura stopped mid-sentence when she saw the tears form in the girl's eyes. She gently wiped one away.
"What's wrong, love?"
"My worst memory, every bit as bad as bad as when my family died, is the day we parted... my last words to you..."
"Ashe don't..."
"I said... I wished you'd never been my mother..."
"No, Ashe..."
"But I didn't mean it! I was lashing out, angry you were treating me like a child..."
"But you are a child... but... I... I should have listened to you, instead of..." Isaura pulled away, suddenly. "But Shea is dead! Answer me this: are you Shea?"
"Isaura... I can't say I'm Shea," Ashe answered slowly. "But mother, I can't say I'm not."
Isaura's eyes turned blurry now with tears too, as she desperately struggled to make sense of this.
"Explain this to me now!" Isaura demanded. "Are you saying Ashe is dead? And you have come back?"
"Not at all. I was given a choice. Two paths," Ashe said. "With the first path, all that was done to me would have been undone, and I would become Aesh again. I would return to Edefia, receive a hero's welcome. And go on to become one of the most famous alquimistas in history."
"My dream," Isaura gasped.
Ashe took Isaura's hands in her own again. "I didn't choose that path."
She almost she grasped what the girl was saying. Almost. She turned to Zinjo. "Do you understand?"
"Iz simple," Zinjo shrugged.
"Enlighten me, oh wise one."
Zinjo clasped his arms behind his back, a huge smile on his face.
"What?" Isaura asked.
"I have waited so many years for you to beg me to give - what you call it? - big reveal. Let Zinjo savor this."
"Out with it," Isaura growled.
"Ha! Patience, witch woman. Very well. Exhibit A, in memory cavern, when we look at Aesh's memory of Shea's death, did not you feel energy enter Aesh, when Shea died? A special kind?"
"Yes." She remembered that. It felt like soul energy. "But that doesn't mean that Shea's-"
"-Shush! This my moment!" Zinjo said. "Exhibit B, goddess could have made Aesh look like any girl. Instead she change her to look so much like-"
"Shea! Okay, yes, that IS true, I grant you, but-"
"You see what I must suffer, leetle one?"
"Mmhm, she can dish it, but can't take it," Ashe said, giggling again.
"You hush," the sorceress ordered. "And you continue."
"Exhibit C. The last tarot card of Aliana Crow's reading was..."
"The Apple Tree of Healing," Isaura said.
"Correct!" Zinjo said. "So I ask witch woman, what has been healed?"(
“That's obvious,” Isaura answered. “The land from the devastation of the serum... but no, that didn't happen, we prevented that. Ashe's mind? That sort of seems right, but not quite. ...I give up, oh wise giant. What?"
"Zinjo has known some gods in his time, and never met one who did something for one puny reason. Da, Aana change Aesh to open puzzle box. Yet I tink she also change Aesh to heal the love between mother and daughter. No, Shea has not come back, but your daughter has. Bah! I tell you nothing you don't already know. After all, you named her."
"I... why does that prove anything?" Isaura recalled how she struggled for hours over that naming, wondering why she'd chosen it. "I picked the name for simplicity, because 'Ashe', sounded so much like 'Aesh.' Look, if you move the 'e' in Aesh to the end, you have 'Ashe'. See? No mysterious goddess purpose."
"And," Zinjo added, "if you move the 'a' in Ashe to the end, you have..."
"Shea!" Oh goddess, why hadn't she seen that?
"For days you've been thinking of her as your daughter subconsciously, calling her Ashera Faeyra, even just an hour ago asking the Arch Duchess to officially name her so."
Not Shea, not Aesh, but together something greater. Ashe. The sorceress looked into the girl's eyes again.
"But why? Why would you choose this over the other path?"
She could have said many things: that she loved traveling with them, the adventure of it. That she craved to learn from the sorceress, to devour the knowledge the Queen of Wands could pass to her. That with their magic and wealth, they could help so many people in need around the world, that they could make a difference, which is what both Aesh and Shea always wanted.
And wanted still.
Yes, she could have said all those reasons because they were true. But Ashe knew real truth, felt it deep in her bones. Only, suddenly her throat grew dry and her eyes grew wet as she tried to tell her truth.
"You see... you must see... my home... my heart... is here with you. And together I want us to make such memories! Beautiful ones, sad ones, joyous and tearful ones... so so many..."
Her voice trailed off softly as her eyes swept from Isaura to Zinjo and back again. Isaura found her voice had deserted her too, managing only a mama bear growl as her arms wrapped themselves fiercely around the girl.
Zinjo's voice hadn't deserted him; he let out booming yell of “IZ GOOOOD” so giant, that it may have echoed halfway across the sea.
***
Some minutes later, Isaura turned to her companions, with a grave expression. “I need you two to stop smiling for a moment. We have an important decision to make.”
Zinjo looked at the sorceress quizzically, but Ashe’s face lit after a moment.
“The how and where problem – how to safely be rid of Breviar’s” Ashe spat after saying the name, “serum and where.”
“Mmhm,” Isaura said, “though Alarian spies will try to remove the memories of those in Edefia who read Breviar’s notes, this secret is too big for us to assume the world will forget about this abomination.”
Isaura picked her atlas from the deck floor and thumbed through it until she came to a map of the Seven Kingdoms.
“I believe you said fire was a no no, so the volcanoes of the Obsidian Peaks are out."
“Absolutely,” Ashe answered.
“And I vould recommend ve not leave at bottom of deepest mine shaft,” Zinjo said, stroking his beard. “Gem grubbing dwarves would find it faster than, as we use to zay in my home country of Vostyae, shapit tek ij drok kor hells ar Ymra na naj-ri'uk hon hels.”
“Er, what?” Ashe said, thoroughly perplexed.
“Hmmm, my Vostyae is a little sketchy, since it’s been a dead language for over a thousand years,” Isaura said, “but I think our giant said, roughly, ‘faster than a demon from hells with Ymra snapping at his heels.”
“Iz what I said,” Zinjo shrugged.
“I agree, the mine shaft idea is too risky,” Isaura said. “So… deepest spot in the ocean it is. Which, if memory serves me, would be off the coast of-”
“-If I may,” Ashe interrupted, pointing on the map to a spot off the southeast tip of the Keoba Dynasty, near the town of Kudarala. “I recommend here. It’s hundreds of feet deep according to the atlas and should be a good place for the serum to rest until it becomes inert through decay.”
“Well, yes, that’s true,” said Isaura, “But the deepest depth is found in the Aramoor Trench, west of the Qyrc Wilds.”
“But that’s the point!” Ashe said. “Whoever comes looking for the serum, I bet they’ll never think to look in the second deepest spot in the sea, only the deepest.”
‘Hmmm, I like your thinking,” Isaura said, and then paused. “The nearest town is Kudarala, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Ashe said, and flashed the slightest of mischievous grins.
Which Isaura caught and then grinned back.
“I agree, then. We sail to the Keoban coast.
“One second if please,” Zinjo said, his great bushy brows furrowing. “Vhat did those looks mean? Vat I miss?”
“Wellllll… it seems our little Ashe pays attention, and recalled that, according to my atlas, the best bizzo in the Seven Kingdoms is served in Kudarala.”
“Oh, is it?” Ashe answered, feigning innocence. “What a coincidence! Mmmmm bizzo, hot n’ cheezy...”
“Wait, wait,” Zinjo said, his massive jaw threatening to drop all the way to the deck floor. “You mean to say you base hiding spot of serum that could destroy all everything on closeness to bizzo place?”
A look that said ‘that has to be the dumbest question ever asked’ passed between the women, and they answered in unison:
“YES!”
Zinjo’s laughter started low, but grew louder and louder with each ‘HO HO HO’. This time the echos traveled even to the farthest shores of the Serene Sea.
Isaura leaned over and kissed the top of Ashe’s head, before pointing at the orange moon rising to starboard. Ashe wrapped her arm around Isuara’s waist and smiled as she looked - another memory made.
And with a brisk wind filling its sails, the Hope of Aana sailed into the night.
End.