Rituals Page 17

  “Guardian of pastures?” Fia asked. “Kush’hera’s hubby,” Kosho replied. “She bring da rain; he bring da seed, ya?” Sahja didn’t let it show, but even the idea of the Light’s guardian having a presence there made him uneasy. Fia wrapped her arms around one of his, giving a reassuring smile.

  The caravan stopped to rest beside the tranquil waters of the massive tributary that separated Dema from Kussuum, taking shade in the lush groves that lined the waters. Kosho and most of the other workers took up a bit of fishing to pass the time while others rested their eyes in the shadows of the trees.

  “We can’t keep this a secret forever, Sahja,” Fia remarked softly, the two of them leaning against a Zuhettan willow. “I know,” Sahja replied in kind, “but we need to tell the right people first.” Fia leaned her head against his shoulder, watching and listening to the rather playful bunch of folk who were with them. “You don’t think Kosho could handle it?” she joked.

  Sahja chuckled. “I don’t think he’d be smart enough to run the other direction if we did. How are you feeling?” he asked. “Physically? I’m actually pretty peachy,” Fia replied, “but I know how unnatural everything has been. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still concerned with long-term consequences.”

  Sahja nodded in agreement, knowing full-well the unseen scars and fresh wounds they both carried. Fia kissed Sahja on the cheek. “You know, you really haven’t changed,” she remarked. Sahja gently kissed Fia on the lips. “Neither have you.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Squad!

  Genri and Azal’el rode a series of small boats from island to island until they reached the central shores of Om’Borla. The massive port city, Fesheyn, was surrounded by thick metal walls and lined with artillery. “This place used to be just the place to go for gambling,” Genri remarked in awe, stepping onto the docks. “Looks like business may have changed a little since then,” the angel replied casually. Genri was a bit spacey as nostalgia set in. “I wonder how long this fortification took?” he said to himself.

  “I mean, if you’ve got an itch, I’m sure there are some games around,” Azal’el joked. Genri laughed, replying in kind. “Did I not see you conjure a bag of jewels in Zufa’zuf? I don’t think it would be much fun with an endless wallet.” The tumbler that had pickpocketed Genri poked its head out of the troll’s satchel, hearing a bustle of sounds and sniffing the less familiar sea breeze.

  “Where exactly do you intend to find these heroes?” Genri inquired. “I have a fair idea of where to start,” Azal’el sighed. So, they went into the fortified city, heading to the southeastern quadrant. Genri chuckled when he saw the building Azal’el was walking towards. “A brothel?” asked the troll.

  “Oh? You’re familiar with it?” the angel smirked. Genri stuttered and murmured. “Former brothel. Don’t worry; now it’s just a pub,” Azal’el stated. Just then, the door swung open violently. Azal’el casually stepped aside as an anoshi troll soldier was hurled out by a hulking thunder troll warrior.

  “We’ve been through too damn much to tolerate such disrespectful ingrates,” hollered the warrior, cracking his knuckles as he walked towards the writhing soldier. “Ogg!” hollered a woman’s voice. Then a slender female thunder troll, wearing the robes of a white mage, came out. She stepped in front of the huge man and poked him in the chest. “I think he learned his lesson the first two times you hit him,” the woman declared. “A troll warrior named Ogg,” Azal’el grinned to himself. “That’s just a stereotype.”

  Ogg grunted and turned away from the soldier, who at least gave a bow before limping off. The warrior saw the two strangers but said nothing as he passed by. Extending her hand to Genri and smiling, the mage seemed much more curious about the two. Her hand was still small in Genri’s gentle grip.

  “A friend of yours?” Genri asked, referring to the large warrior. “One of a kind, yes,” she replied. “My name is Diisu.” Azal’el patted Genri on the back. “Well, that’s two. See how easy this is? Just one more to go,” he said happily, entering into the establishment. Diisu watched the angel curiously and looked back at Genri. “Did I miss something?” Genri scratched his head and shrugged. “I guess you could say he’s one of those ‘one-of-a kind’ friends,” he replied.

  Inside, Azal’el scanned the crowd, zeroing in on a human wearing a number of marksman runes on his long coat. The angel sat next to the man at the bar. The ranger raised a weary eyebrow, peering at Azal’el out of the corner of his eye. Ogg plopped down on the other side of the ranger. “Mooroos, why didn’t you stand up for Diisu?” he inquired. “You had it handled,” Mooroos replied plainly, puffing his cigar. “Anyway, I would’ve just put a slug in his chest; your way was more civil.” Ogg leaned over and looked at the angel. “You know this guy?” he asked the ranger.

  Mooroos shrugged and sipped his whiskey. Genri and Diisu approached while the tumbler snuck around the pub looking for something shiny. “The gang’s all here,” Azal’el stated. “And, who the fuck are you?” Mooroos asked less than politely. “I’m a guy looking for some folks like you three for a little adventure,” Azal’el replied.

  “Adventure?” Ogg scoffed. “Are you being funny or stupid?” Genri took ahold of Ogg’s arm and had him on the ground in one motion. The whole bar went quiet in that instant until Azal’el cleared his throat and motioned for everyone to return to their conversations. Genri then helped Ogg back up, clearly having the warrior’s respectful attention.

  “First off, I didn’t know he was going to do that,” Azal’el began casually; “but, in all seriousness, we’re going to Kitz and making a couple stops along the way.” “You’re going by land?” Diisu inquired. “You really must not have been here long enough to have such a thought.” “I’m interested,” Mooroos stated without hesitation. “Aye!” Ogg agreed, holding his arm. Diisu was shocked at her two comrades. “Are you both so eager to die? You know what happened to the last detachment that went into De’gra,” she exclaimed.

  “How’s the pay?” Mooroos asked. “Too much,” Azal’el answered. “Hah! I’ve been praying to get away from all the formal military nonsense,” Ogg said happily. “What’s your name, sir?” “Azal’el,” the angel replied. Diisu took a step back. “What?” she asked in disbelief. “What? What?” Mooroos replied curiously. Diisu looked at Ogg, and he seemed just as lost. “Ugh, neither of you has been reading.” she exclaimed. The mage took out a Light’s tome and turned a few pages, pointing to the name “Azal’el.”

  Mooroos stood from his stool and gave a bow of his head while Ogg quickly knelt in respect. Though Azal’el appreciated their apologies, he quickly motioned for them to resume more normal mannerisms. Ogg turned to Genri and gave a respectful salute. “I hope you can show me that takedown sometime, comrade,” he exclaimed.

  Genri returned the salute. “Of course,” he chuckled. “No warrior walks around without a weapon,” Mooroos remarked, “nor can any common fighter perform such a feat. What exactly are you?” he asked. Genri didn’t exactly have an answer to the question, so Azal’el answered. “He’s a monk.”

  Genri seemed to like the title. “I took up the sword ages ago; but, beyond training my son in my later days, I preferred not to carry one,” he explained. “You have a son?” Diisu asked with a hint of disappointment. “A wife?” Genri’s blue-hued skin became just a hint more purple. “Uh, well, I adopted him. I never found time to marry,” he replied.

  “His son is currently the only mortal king in Mol’do,” Azal’el added casually. The three others looked at Genri in disbelief, clamoring for details.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Plains Suitable for Spirits

  Sunrise came over the central Dema plains as Sahja and Fia continued past the capital fortress. Even compared to the grasslands in Mol’do, these plains were a sight for sore eyes. Eager to meet up with the couple when he could, Kosho marked a small map with the location of the vacant cottag
e he’d mentioned.

  The two traveled smooth roads and passed all manner of grazing animals on their way to the village. “Sahja,” Fia sighed with contentment, “this place is beautiful. How could a necromancer have recently been here?” “Let’s pray it can stay this way for a while,” Sahja replied, putting his arm around her. “You don’t have to be an optimist for my sake anymore,” Fia replied with a bit of amusement.

  They came to the small home and went inside, dropping all the gear they’d been hauling. Then they plopped down on a comfortable sofa. They were greatly thankful to be where they were. Early the next morning, there was a knock on the door. Despite the early hours, the two were already up making coffee on an open flame. “Come in,” Fia said. Kosho came through with open arms. “My friends! How be ya?” he asked happily. Sahja greeted the troll with a hug. “We’ve rested very well, thank you.”

  “Good! I be glad to hear it,” Kosho replied. “Listen, da guy I wanted ya to meet couldn’t make it. Him a busy bee! So, he showed me dis place not too far west. Him say it was somewhere ya should see,” he explained energetically. “What’d you tell him?” Sahja asked casually. “Only what I know,” Kosho replied. “Him be more curious at my story of ya than I see him anytime before.”

  Sahja beckoned for the troll to join them for a minute before their departure. Kosho hugged Fia as she sat at a table. “Ya hair still be a mess, but ya still beautiful!” he complimented. “You must be part troll.” Sahja nearly spat out the sip of coffee he’d just taken at the joke. Fia laughed and smiled. “Thank you, Kosho,” handing him a cup.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, who’s this contact of yours in Kitz?” Sahja inquired. Kosho took a swig of the coffee and was clearly delighted in the taste. “Him be a bladedancer, a Dema native. He grew up not far from here,” he replied. “Him be an off-puttin’ fellow, but him have a good soul.”

  “I trust a hero more than I would any politician,” Fia remarked. “Trust me, him say the same ting,’” Kosho replied. “We really are grateful for what you’ve done for us, Kosho,” Sahja added. The troll motioned as if it were no big deal. “It not every day ya find people as cool as the two of ya makin’ love in a cave,” he said with an humble grin.

  The three finished their happenings inside, eventually heading into the dewy morning. Kosho oriented himself to where the bladedancer had instructed and then walked with the two along the tranquil roads. The early hours allowed one to see the lights that dotted Dema’s country, towns, and villages, as they had begun to revive outside of the capital limits. The world seemed quiet here.

  To the groups’ surprise, it was quite a slope down for a mile in either direction when they’d reached their point of interest. Their descent was quite unremarkable and ordinary. Coming down to a dense grove of trees standing in this rather curious location below, Fia was the only one who could easily squeeze through.

  The bloodlion had attempted to slice his way through the seemingly ordinary trees, but the devil’s own sword was met as if by an equal force. “Looks like you’ll have to make do,” Fia taunted with a wave. “You two are an odd pair,” the troll remarked. “Yeah, that’s turned into quite a story, my friend,” Sahja replied, patting Kosho on the shoulder as he began to head into the trees.”

  Sahja and Kosho were having to push and pull one another through, grunting as they scraped against the coarse bark and curious ancient runestones. The two men fell into the clearing where Fia had already been for a few minutes, looking up at an ancient and massive earthen oak. Fia shrugged at the two men. “Really, there’s no one or anything else here. Are we sure this is the place?”

  There was a bellowing grumble followed by a yawn. “First, there was that ringing and now chatter.” The very grove became a shade lighter when the tree awoke. What resembled an elderly man’s face took shape in the bark. The runes and glyphs pulsed through the area in cadence with the being’s breath. “Did you wake me, mark-bearers?” he asked.

  “We gonna die in a prison of wood!” Kosho hollered, attempting to run back through the tree line; but he was stopped by a gentle, unnatural slap of a branch. “The only enemies here would be the two you brought with you, son of thunder,” the tree stated. Kosho looked at his friends with a curious expression.

  Sahja tossed his sheathed weapon aside as a gesture of good will. “We aren’t looking to be anyone’s enemy here,” Fia uttered respectfully. The tree looked at the two humans. “Truly, you are curious souls. Darkness swirls about you, but your hearts and minds remain in relatively good condition,” he said. “You must be carrying a great burden. I hear a terrible trial, indeed. Are you remaining away from the city?” he then asked somewhat sternly.

  “We are,” Sahja answered. “Good. It is pleasing that you are aware of how dangerous you are,” the tree praised. Kosho approached the tree. “Be ya da guardian? Kush’hera’s counterpart?” he asked in awe. “You may call me Ilsoluum,” the tree affirmed. “How are you alive?” Kosho inspected. Another branch shooed the troll back in response.

  “So, bloodlion of Mol’do. Have you even any idea what you’re looking for in this place?” Ilsoluum inquired. “There’s no easy answer is there?” Sahja replied. “Indeed not,” the guardian answered. Fia’s breathing had become increasingly heavy. Now, sitting on the lush grass, she found herself barely able to support herself. “Oh, dear,” Ilsoluum remarked. Sahja hurried to see what was wrong, but even Fia seemed unsure and even a little frightened.

  The guardian grumbled, “You brought the devil’s sword. Was she given no weapon? No trinket?” he asked. “She was,” Sahja replied in a refined panic. “Now you see one of the blights of your circumstances,” the guardian stated. “A marked weapon will punish its wielder for being left behind. Your stay here must be brief.” The guardian gently blew a breeze on the ground, conjuring a globe of pearlescent water.

  Sahja quickly picked up the liquid, guiding it to Fiaria’s lips. “Save the rest for your journey home. This tincture will at least stay the effects of the separation,” Ilsoluum stated. “How can we get rid of this?” Sahja asked, defiant to the cause of this misadventure. “Can we get rid of this?” he asked deliberately.

  “I will need to confer with my wife and others on this matter, bloodlion,” the guardian answered. “I pictured ya bein’ a little more handsome,” Kosho interrupted, seeming to have missed the entire exchange. The guardian sighed heavily with exasperation. “There was a time for me, but ages of keeping life alive have taken their toll on my mortal form,” he defended. “Were you always a tree?” the troll asked. “Get out of here,” the guardian rebuked.

  The tree line behind the group parted, giving them a much easier path to leave. Sahja helped Fia to her feet, but she could barely stand under her own weight. “I promise to send word for you when I can be of more immediate assistance,” said the guardian.

  A leafy mule (a mount to carry Fiaria) came forth from the rich ground. Sahja and Kosho, soon on their way out of the mysterious grove, helped the weary lass up. Sahja looked back after they exited the tree line, seeing the woods close like a fortress gate. “I’m sorry, Kosho,” Fia muttered. “We probably should’ve been meaner the first time around.” “Don’t worry, buddy,” Kosho replied happily. “You wouldn’t have found dis without me, right? Da Light work in crazy-ass ways.”

  When they returned to the home, the leafy beast returned to the earth. The group went inside and found the shortbow Fia had been given. She became less pale almost as soon as the weapon was in her hand. “That would’ve been nice to know,” she said with some relief. “They were probably banking on you not carrying it everywhere,” Sahja replied with obvious disdain for their former hosts. “Dey?” Kosho echoed. “Yeah,” Sahja replied quietly, as if preparing to open their story to their companion.

  Kosho closed the door and sat on a couch. “So! I wanna help ya best I can,” he said in his usual manner, “but it be only fair you tel
l me everyting’ der be to know.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Discord

  Enysa woke up in a comfortable bed with a variable buffet spread within the room of the inn in which she’d found herself. She sprung from the sheets, going straight for some fruit and pastries. “Next time, you may want to be sure there’s not a ton of people around,” A’mi remarked, referring to Enysa’s nakedness, “but it’s good that you have an appetite,” she added with a smile.

  Enysa’s cheeks were stuffed with cake as she looked at A’mi. It took her a moment to recognize the alchemist, but then she ran over to embrace her. “You’re alive too!” she said with food muffling her words. “Did you save me?” A’mi grabbed a robe hanging over a chair and put it around Enysa. “No. That was a team effort at best, and I had very little to do with it in that regard,” she replied. “Where are we?” Enysa asked, slipping into the garments. A’mi opened the curtains a little. “We’re in Kitz,” she replied, “but I have to say I’m concerned with some of the things I’ve heard and seen here so far.”

  “What’d ya mean?” Enysa asked. The window to the room overlooked a prominent street where plenty of problems continued to brew since the city was retaken. A’mi poured herself a hot drink. “Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of good people here, but it’s like chaos came from their victory here,” she explained. “I guess every angel can only know so much, but I can honestly say I feel safe with some of the people around us.”

  There came a knock at the door, followed by: “Is she dressed?” “Yeah,” A’mi replied. The bladedancer in shadowcraft armor walked inside, acknowledging both the ladies. “This is Trova,” A’mi remarked. “He’s been helping us out since we got here.” He peered at a blushing Enysa, saying, “You look well, but I suppose I expect anyone directly healed by an angel to seem as such.”