Wielder of the Flame (22 page)

Drake sat down in surprise.

Marad sat down as well, “There is a powerful magic at work
here,” He said, seemingly to no-one.

“I did not think much of my dream until not too long ago
he—”

“—appeared to you,” Puck finished again.

“Yes,” Drake replied, “I have not been pursuing this boy for
very long. So far it has proven difficult. Some days I felt strongly the path I
should take, but mostly I was wandering the forest, unsure of my way. That is
when I came upon Lilis and Aliyana.”

“A powerful magic indeed,” Lilis echoed her husband.

“That is why I cannot stay,” Drake said, “I have rested well
here, and I thank you, but I must continue on my journey now.”

“You must do as your instincts tell you, it is a noble
choice,” Marad nodded.

“You would go so soon?”

Everyone turned at Aliyana’s presence in the frame of the
hallway door.

Aliyana had grown to like her young rescuer and had imagined
he would have been staying with them for a while at least.

“I fear I must,” Drake responded, “You are now safe here at
home,”

He liked the young woman as well, but he did not want to
come closer to her, nor her to him.

Laeyadin,
the name came to his mind in an instant. A
powerful wave of emotions came over him, mostly sadness and grief. It showed on
his face, he choked back his feelings and looked away.

“I must go now,” he said, turning to Marad.

Drake hooked his two katanas to his back and hefted his
pack, now full with foodstuffs that Lilis had put there herself.

He headed for the door. He was happy to have helped, but he
wanted to get out. He had to get away as fast as he could, before someone got
hurt.

He opened the door.

“I will go with you,” Puck said suddenly, standing up.

“Absolutely not!” Lilis said from the cooking room.

“No,” Aliyana said.

Marad stood as well, putting his hand out, as if to block
his son’s way.

“I must,” Puck replied.

“Our family has just been reunited in safety through a
terrible trial,” Marad looked at his son, his face stern, “Ranasa has taken the
hardest toll because of it,”

“I know full well,” Puck shook his head, trying to rid his
memory of Ranasa’s mother sprawled across the wood floor of her own home, the
blood. He shuddered, knowing it would be a long time, if ever, that he would
forget the image.

“And it is because of that, that I must go. Think of it
father,” Puck continued, looking at his parents, “You cannot go out in search
of who has done this thing, you must stay here and protect mother and Aliyana
if they come this way again. As well as keep the shop up, I could not provide
for us all if you were to leave.”

Marad knew his son spoke truly. He nodded in agreement.
Lilis would not agree, not after what she had been through, but she would
respect his judgment on the matter.

“And who better to travel with than him,” Puck gestured to
Drake.

“I cannot say I will follow you on your quest,” Drake said
quickly.

Puck shook his head, “Nor do I ask it of you, I will travel
with you as far as our paths follow each other. If I find I am in too much
danger after we part ways, than I shall return home, I can promise that,
father.”

Marad was nodding his head again.

“No,” Lilis said with all the motherly concern in the world.

“He will be alright,” Marad said. He raised one of his arms
and waved his wife to his side. She came and he hugged her tight.

“Our boy has already come of age, I must rely on him to help
reveal why these men were seeking after our family,” he said, than added almost
as if to himself, “after all this time.”

Then Marad straightened, “But before you go, there is
something I must give you.”

He went to the bedroom he shared with his wife and was only
gone for a few moments before he returned with a long blanket wrapped around
what was obviously some long thin shape, almost longer than he was tall.

He held out the item before his son.

“This,” he gestured to the wrapped blanket, “was your
grandfather’s. But I believe now would be a good time to give it to you.”

He motioned for him to open it.

Puck reached forward and unraveled the blanket.

Beneath the blanket was a simple long, thin, pole of metal.
It was silver in color, that almost seemed to glow of its own accord. It
appeared perfectly unmarked as if freshly forged and polished immaculately.

Drake watched in interest.

 “A quarterstaff?” Puck finally said.

“This is no ordinary weapon,” His father replied, “It is
imbued with great magic from our bloodline. Only a true Shifter can wield this
to its full potential. A quarterstaff is only its most simple form. With our
magic, it can take many forms.”

Puck gingerly picked up the weapon.

Instantly he felt his magic working, familiarizing him with
the metal in his hands. It was unlike anything he had felt before. He began to
manipulate the pole, shifting it until it was a simple ball, no larger than the
palm of his hand. Puck looked at the globe in his hand. Suddenly the metal was
shifting again, Marad was manipulating it. The sphere became a simple pair of
metal bracers the size of Pucks forearms. Puck nodded and equipped the bracers.

“Makes it easy to carry,” Puck admitted.

“You will be armed, even if those around you think you are
without a weapon,” Marad said, “I wish I had more time to train you with it. In
all honesty, I hoped I would never have to train you in its use, but the need
has arisen, and I only have regret about the matter.”

“I will learn on the road,” Puck stated simply, “Trial and
error will be my teacher.”

“All will be well,” Marad nodded.

Aliyana ran forward and wrapped her arms around her brother.

“You must take this as well, I have already asked mother.”

She reached around her neck and withdrew the necklace.

“It will protect you,” she said as she placed it over his
head while their parents watched, “It saved me, it can save you to.”

“Take care of Ranasa while I am gone,” he responded,
clutching the dark crystal at the end of the necklace.

“I will.” She replied, “be safe brother!” she said into his
shoulder, hugging him tightly, “I will invoke the Exalted to watch over you
every day.”

She then ran over and hugged Drake as well.

“Thank you for everything,” she whispered to him, “If not
for you, my mother and I would not be here now.”

She kissed him on the cheek and he looked away shyly.

“I will wait here then, until you are ready,” Drake said to
Puck.

Puck nodded, “it will be not more than a few moments. And I
must say goodbye to Ranasa.”

Not too much time later Puck stood
on the road leading away from Essoril, his home town.

He fingered the dark crystal again as he looked back at the
town.

“Ready?” Drake said, bringing Puck from his thoughts.

“Yes,” Puck said, putting the dark crystal beneath his
shirt.

“Forward ho!”

Aliyana sat at the bed, slowly
stroking Ranasa’s arm.

It was night again, Puck and Drake had gone long before.

She was softly singing a lullaby that her mother sang to her
as a child. It soothed her.

Ranasa finally stirred. It wasn’t much but he shifted his
head and looked at Aliyana.

She did not see at first and continued singing quietly.

“Aliyana?” He said, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Ranasa?” She returned his gaze, “You are back, you are
here.” She smiled, glad to see him coming to.

“I am scared,” He said, his eyes reflecting the terror he
had experienced upon seeing the body of his slain mother. A tear fell down his
cheek.

“Oh Ranasa,” Aliyana said, leaning over and wrapping her
arms around him, “I am here, there is nothing to worry about, I will take care
of you.”

Ranasa put his arms around her as well and gently sobbed
into her shoulder.

Sulendald was a beautiful city.

It lay in a low valley, in Itherin, near the Wildlands. A
large river ran through the valley. A bridge crossed the river, from a hill, to
the main entrance of Sulendald. In the east, lay rolling wooded hills, which
grew thicker the further east one traveled. Mountains and forests lay beyond
that, with only a few sure outposts here and there until only the Wildlands
reigned. It was a well defended city, tall stone walls jutted from the grassy
valley floor below, surrounding the buildings within. A number of small towns,
villages, and farmlands dotted the nearby lands in the west. From afar one
could see the main fortress in the city center, and the spiraling of roads
spinning outward to the buildings and houses around it. Another long bridge led
to a sharp curve in the wide river, where a number of docks spread out like
fingers on a hand. Fishing boats and large river barges docked here, filling up
with trade goods to bring down river for selling to other Freeland cities. Despite
its nearness to the Wildlands and the dangers therein, it was a prosperous and
bright city.

But a sickness had begun to plague it from within.

No one knew who was taking them, or why, but one thing was
sure, the bodies of the dead had begun to disappear.

The sickness was beyond that of the local healers. Waronen,
Sulendald’s Overseer, personally knew Doyenne Carlata and had sent for her and
the Order’s help. He could only hope that their advanced knowledge in the
healing arts would be enough to cure the disease.

Laura hoped that as well, for all the others of the Order
there with her on assignment, but not for her, for her it would be too much to
hope, because she knew she would be of little real help.

They had arrived the night before, a company of almost fifty
women. They had been welcomed with open arms, as they usually were. They had
not done much except set up camp. Now, in the morning, they could visit the
sick.

City watchmen had been assigned to accompany them for their
safety. Waronen had told them it was because he did not know who was behind the
corpse thieving, and he did not want to risk the harm of his guests in case the
thieves grew more aggressive and began to prey on the living as well as steal
from the dead.

Laura followed quietly but quickly behind Doyenne Carlata.
Her black, green, and gold robes swished back and forth swiftly in their
hurried pace to reach their destination. Carlata’s brown and silver hair,
pulled back in a long tight braid, waved back and forth with her motions as
well. She was older than Kaelynn by several cycles, but looked younger by her
facial features, sharp blue eyes, a stern brow, and an equally sharp chin.
Laura watched the bottom of the older woman’s boots appear and disappear
beneath her robe with each step along the cobblestone street. Four Doyennes had
been asked to come on the assignment, each with several Adepts and handpicked
Aides. There were two areas of the city with the most concern. Carlata, head of
the assignment, instructed Kaelynn and another Doyenne to the other location,
while she herself and Doyenne Tyessa and her group to come with her. Carlata
had brought no one else but Laura.

Why did Carlata want me here?
She thought.
She
knows I am the worst aide in the entire Order.

But Laura had a strong gut feeling of why she had really
been asked to come along. Kimira had been right, the Doyennes had begun to be
suspicious. If they found out Laura was the daughter of a powerful wizard with
his magic running through her blood, they would probably dismiss Laura, Kaelynn
and Kimira from the Order. The Order of the Leaf was a peaceful group, they
could not afford to have someone in their company who would attract possibly
very dangerous foes.

She is going to ask me questions,
Laura’s heart beat
faster,
She wants to get in a position where we are alone so she can talk to
me.
She imagined a small room of someone’s house, an old man sick in bed,
Carlata carefully and slowly applying a healing ointment on his
body, a
laborious and lengthy process, and Laura right there next to the bed, mixing up
more ointment.
Yes,
she thought,
That is exactly how it is going to
be
.
Then she will begin to ask, and I will have no excuse to leave, for
what reason would I have to abandon someone sick, someone in need. Of course
she would send away Kaelynn and Kimira, so that I will have no one around to
stick up for me, but myself.

She began to think of suitable responses to possible
questions the Doyenne would ask her.

The buildings and the people were not much more than a blur
on her right and left as she subconsciously followed Carlata to their
destination, she was so deep in thought. The houses and shops were quaint
half-timbered structures, their frames exposed on their outsides. Most of them
had ground floors of stone, with timber framed second and third floors built in
a jettying style. The upper floors projected beyond the dimensions of the floor
below, allowing the roads to retain a wider open space for carts and wagons.

Laura also barely noticed that, as they continued on their
path, the quality of the buildings and streets began to degrade significantly.
She only realized it when the clip clap of boots on cobble stones were replaced
with the squish squelch of footsteps in mud.

A large voice of angry people further pulled her from her
thoughts as they all rounded a corner to face a number of city guards barely
holding off a crowd of shouting people. They had arrived to the very heart of
the slums in Sulendald.

It was difficult to make out full sentences from the angry
mob, but from snippets of sentences here and there it was clear they were angry
with Waronen, and his dealing of the sickness that had infected their homes and
their lives.

“Protection from corpse thieves, really?” Carlata said to
one of their escorts. Waronen was obviously protecting the women in the Order
from his own angry citizens, and not from supposed corpse thieves.

The guard Carlata had spoken too merely shrugged, and then
he signaled to two of his men and walked forward.

“Stand aside people! Stand aside!” He yelled over the noise
of the crowd, “These are healers from the Order of the Leaf, Waronen has
personally sent for them. Let them through! They are here to help those who are
sick!”

A heavyset fellow pushed forward in the crowd and raised his
voice in response, “Stop feeding us lies!” He cried, “Waronen is a fool and a
liar! Tell him to give us the bodies of our loved ones back so we can honor
their deaths in a proper way!”

“Our Leader has nothing to do with the disappearing bodies!
We are still trying to find out who is responsible for that!”

“Lies!” the man cried.

“Guards! Arrest that man!” The captain of the watchmen there
ordered.

Two armored soldiers grabbed the man and tore him from the
crowd. He fell to his knees in the mud as they withdrew leather bindings and
began twisting the man’s arms painfully behind his back. He struggled and one
of the guards threw his fist across the man’s jaw with a loud crack.

The crowd roared angrily and pushed against the guards
holding them back.

It was only a matter of moments before violence broke out.

Carlata stepped forward and placed her hands on the captain
of the guard.

“Please!” She cried over the noise.

She quickly went around, placing her hands on the shoulders
of everyone nearby.

Those she touched, visibly relaxed.

“Please,” she said again. Stillness crept through the air
like magic. No one noticed the faint glow in Carlata’s palms and in her
countenance.

The crowd slowly quieted, until Laura could even hear the
breaths of those around her.

“Please,” Carlata said a third time, “We are here to help.
Please let us through and allow us to do our work.”

Everyone began to nod in agreement.

“Let this man go,” Carlata said to the Captain, placing her
hand on his shoulder as she spoke, “he means not what he says, he is simply
torn with grief.”

The captain seemed unsure of what to do. Then he nodded and
signaled the man released. He sat down, leaning against the side of a nearby
stone wall and massaged his wrists and his jaw.

The group quickly dispersed only moments later, opening the
way before them.

Carlata looked through her bag for something and soon
produced a large green leaf, Laura recognized it as a remedy for pain.

Carlata knelt by the man who had been punched.

“Here,” she said, handing him the leaf, “hold it to your
face, it will help.”

He didn’t move, wary of the thing in her hand as if it would
bite him.

Carlata slowly lowered the leaf and gently placed it on his
chin, “What is your name?” she asked.

“Emerson,” he replied.

“Well, Emerson,” She said with a gentle smile, “Do not
worry, we are here to help.”

He nodded.

Then she stood and returned to her place by the other women.

The guards escorted them down the road to a large grouping
of dwellings. Most of the buildings sagged like tired old things, their wood
supports rotting in places, and the plaster poorly patched here and there. A
stench began to creep into Laura’s nose, like decaying rotted fruit. It was
unsettling because despite the rankness, it was tinged with a hint of
sweetness. There were sick people everywhere, lying in the alleys, coughing and
groaning. It was a horrible sight.

Carlata turned to the women around her, “All will be well,”
She said.

She put on her black gloves, and
continued, “But we have much work to do here. I am sure it is the same
situation with the others in their portion of the city. Let us begin work
straightaway, Tyessa, begin a general sweep, only the most basic work, then
focus on more difficult cases as you find them. Laura and I will seek out the
most difficult cases and begin with that, all is well?”

Tyessa gave a short bow, “All is well,” Tyessa immediately
turned and addressed her group with instructions.

“Come with me,” Carlata told Laura.

Laura nodded her head and shivered.

For the rest of the day Laura
followed Carlata very closely with a large number of parchment pieces bound
together and a large quill pen filled with ink.

She wrote down everything Carlata instructed her to write.
The Doyenne needed every observation of hers recorded so that she could go over
her notes with the other Doyenne’s at night. They needed to find out if the
sickness the people had was the same, so they could begin experimenting to find
the cure, or if there were many different sickness that could only be healed
with many different cures. Laura thought that paying attention to lessons was
difficult, but as the hours passed and she took notes for Carlata, she knew she
would never be able to become a healer.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Almost all
of those they visited were hot with fever, bedridden. The most mild had only a
cough, and were taken care of by Tyessa, but Carlata sought out the worst of
the sick, whether just by looking, or actually asking to be directed to the
sickest person. Laura could barely stomach the sight of some of them. Their
skin looked grotesquely discolored, their flesh sagged against bones on some
parts of their body, the muscles beneath being almost non-existent. Some had
large darkened pus filled sack protruding from the skin, oozing in small cracks
where the flesh was stretched too far. The stench was worse inside the homes
where the sickest ones could not move, filling nook and cranny with rotting
stink. Laura was sure she would never be able to get the stench from her clothes
and that she would be sure to burn them after this assignment was over.

Carlata made observations of everything, and Laura wrote it
down.

Carlata made no move to ask her any questions, but Laura was
sure they would come, perhaps when they returned to camp for the night.

It was not until late in the evening, when the little girl
came to them.

They were making perpetrations to return to their camp
outside the city when she tugged on Carlata’s robes.

She and Laura turned to the young girl.

The girl was small and dirty, ragged long dark brown hair.

“Please come,” she said, “My daddy, he needs help. Will you
help him?”

Carlata was about to tell her they would be back early the
next morning, but Laura, after everything she had seen that day, knew that it
was likely the next day would be too late for this poor girl’s father.

She thought of her own father and how she had never been
able to know what he was like, how she had only just learned early in the cycle
about
her father. She couldn’t help but think maybe she would be able to
help save this young girl from having to grow up like had, fatherless.

She shivered, remembering the rain and the cold on that day.

“Let us go with her,” Laura spoke up, “One last case, before
we retire for the night.”

Carlata looked as if to deny her, a little angry that an
Aide would ever dare order a Doyenne. But her face mellowed slightly and she
smiled but it was not quite a pleasant smile.

“I had hoped to spend some time this evening,” She paused,
“Going over the day’s events,”

Badgering you with questions
, Laura imagined her
saying in place of what she actually said.

“But we will have time for that on the morrow,” she
finished.

She then turned to the girl, “take us to your father.”

The young girl nodded and turned to go.

The sky was darkening, the sun low
on the horizon.