Clint
Seth Midas had made one hell of a mess. It was only out of personal obligation that Clint had agreed to stay at the infirmary and help to put everything back where it was. Clint decided then that if he, Sara, and Alexis managed to bring him back to his senses, he would owe them big time. Climb aboard everyone! We’re all going to the Summer Festival and the fire crab’s on Seth! He had mentioned this thought to Alexis and she nodded vigorously in agreement.
Graciously enough, Sara had agreed to stay and help even though everyone else involved had insisted that she didn’t have to. In response, she only shook her head and explained that Seth was a friend of hers now whether he knew it or not. Alexis smiled in spite of herself and Doctor Clark remarked at how much he appreciated the help.
One of the first major issues was to figure out what to do with Albert. As it turned out, he’d had no living family or any acquaintances besides the doctor. It was he who decided that Albert could be buried just outside. After that was taken care of, they set to the solemn task of cleaning the clinic with Doctor Clark reminiscing about memorable shifts he and Albert shared that Clint was sure included more than medical work. Clint was not even remotely fascinated with the stories-- all of which seemed to confirm that Albert had been exactly as boring as he had always seemed-- but he knew that talking about him would make Doctor Clark feel better, so he made an honest effort to listen.
When the clinic had finally been restored to its previous condition, it was with some guilt that they left Dr. Clark alone. He waved them away, saying that he had no patients that required his attention and therefore no reason to take up any of the time that could be spent worrying about Seth. Clint had considered the royal doctor to be one of those who could join in that worry, but he did seem to agree. So, Clint and his friends returned to the Midas house to see if Seth had returned there. They found that his possessions had been disturbed and determined that he had hastily packed to leave the village.
“The only ways he can go are north and west,” Sara pointed out somewhat unhelpfully. “Would he stick to the roads?”
“That would depend on where he’s going,” Clint replied as he replaced some hastily upended trophies Seth left on the shelf in his bedroom. “If he’s in flight, I doubt it.”
“Then probably not then,” Alexis said quietly. “He was clearly panicking when he left.”
Clint strode for the door and threw it open. “Stay here. I should be able to find his trail. When I do, I’ll be back.”
“What do you expect us to do?” demanded Alexis, rather fairly. “We aren’t going to find him if we just sit around waiting!”
“Then ask around for anyone who might have seen him,” Clint suggested. “I’ll be able to track him better alone. If he’s really as spooked as you say he is, then one wrong move will cause us to lose him again and with his training, we won‘t get another shot.”
Sara sounded impressed as she asked. “You sound like you really know what you’re talking about.”
Alexis rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage him. He already thinks he’s the master of everything that goes on outdoors.”
That was an unfair accusation, but not entirely untrue. He liked to think he’d always been rather humble about it, but he did seem to have a deep understanding of nature. He could practically tell where a starling had been and what it had eaten for every meal in the last season. It was exactly this trait that made him such an effective hunter. He may not have been the quickest man to stalk through Resta’s open plains, but no amount of speed could help an animal to elude him.
Unfortunately, it took two hours to find out that Seth had defied his expectations and left the village by road. Feeling foolish, Clint decided to never again ignore the obvious in favor of conjecture. Desperate to make up for lost time, he found the scuff marks made by Seth’s black boots near the edge of town where the cobblestone met the dirt road. He had left behind a long streak as if he had been running the whole way. This worried Clint, who had expected to find the more obvious paw prints of a wolf the entire time. Why would he leave on foot?
Clint followed the road as carefully as his haste would allow. He knew that the further along he went, the more footprints there would be to obscure those of the fleeing spellwarrior. So it was with some relief that he noticed that Seth had left the trail as it curved to the northwest towards Beldor. Whatever he’s looking for must be due north. Either that or he isn’t thinking straight.
His search continued into the afternoon and the trail still continued steadily. He had just stopped for a break when he encountered a nearly impossible coincidence: his brother. The first thing one would notice about Richard Blackstone is that he looked out of place in direct sunlight. His pale skin was a firm testament to the rigor of his studious nature. The younger brother did not seem pleased to see Clint, but he did not seem to be surprised. The man could be told just about anything and act like he had known it for ages. It was then he remembered just how devoted of a Crane worshipper Richard was. He would make a better champion of Crane than me.
Richard could not even manage a brotherly smile as he said, “Clint.”
Clint’s legendary patience led him to respond, “Last time I checked.”
Hatred etched into the lines of Richard’s face as he asked, “Why you?”
It seems we’re in agreement. “I don’t know. I assume we’re talking about Crane’s interest in me?”
“You’re a buffoon,” Richard snarled. “I have followed the way of Crane my entire life and yet he chose you.”
Clint rolled his eyes. “I’m so sorry for you, but I don’t really have the time to debate the way of Crane with you right now. What are you doing here?”
Richard harrumphed and turned his back to leave. “The temple elder sent me to find you. You won’t get far if you can’t even understand Crane’s voice, you know.”
“I understand his intentions just fine!” Clint snapped impatiently. Damn those omniscient priests. “If that’s all, I need to get going.”
Richard shook his head. “You won’t find what you’re looking for. The best thing you can do now is return home and meet with the elder.”
“I’m looking for another champion right now! I have to find him!” Conversation is beautiful when you don’t have to explain anything.
Richard shrugged and walked away. “Fine. Waste time if you want. But the Champion of Ragos won’t be found until he’s ready and if you continue to delude yourself otherwise, you won‘t be ready when the time comes.”
Clint had been underestimated by Richard his entire life. The little academic prodigy would be surprised if his older brother managed to tie his own boots without assistance. Now that he was alone once more, he resumed his search. But less than half an hour later, the trail went cold. No further signs of Seth’s presence, or anyone else’s, could be seen further ahead. Damn that smug know-it-all.
***
Seeing no other option, Clint decided to take his brother’s advice and travel to Seres. The trip wasn’t long since the trail had taken him closer to his hometown than he had been to Palon at the end of it. Still, Clint was anxious about his decision to leave Sara behind. He didn’t doubt that whatever the High Priest of Seres, the holy city of Crane, had to tell him was important. But his fellow champion of the divine should be there too, shouldn’t she? Being a fellow Crane adherent, albeit less of a devotee than to Serenity, she might have some insight to share.
Well, worrying about her now won’t do much good. The ornate marble pillars that comprised the border of Seres were already in view. He supposed he would just have to find a way to send a message to her later. The owls native to the region were some of the smartest letter-carrying birds in the world, even if he would have preferred the speed of a blood falcon. So the first thing he did was stop at the city’s postal office and compose a letter telling Alexis and Sara where he had gone and what he had learned about Seth. He had it sent with haste, then made his way to the Grand Temple of Crane
.
He had seen many of his kin along the way, but was surprised yet again to see his brother sitting in the temple pews. Richard determinedly refused to look at Clint as he slowly approached the amphitheater on which Crane’s altar stood. As he did so, the light that streamed in through each of the magnificent stained glass windows disoriented him. When he found himself face-to-face with a statue of the intellectual god, he was greeted by a friendly voice.
“Clint! It’s been a long time!”
Clint spun to spot his uncle before he could trap him in a rib-cracking hug. Even being prepared for such constriction did nothing to make the embrace of Rolf Blackstone pleasant. He bore it as well as he could and, when he was released, smiled weakly.
“Good afternoon, your holiness.”
Uncle Rolf slapped Clint on the back and laughed. “Oh, there’s no need to be so formal with me, my child! I know you’re chosen by Crane, but you’re still my nephew!”
Clint’s patience had always rewarded him well, so he was content to reply, “Maybe, but I’m a nephew with an important mission now.”
The High Priest nodded vigorously and flipped through an ancient copy of The Codex of Crane. “Yes, and what an unprecedented calling it is! There have been those who saved the world at the request of Serenity and Ragos before, but there’s never been a champion of Crane before!”
Clint shook his head. “True, but it’s not that unprecedented. We’re supposed to be doing the exact same thing as the first champions.”
Rolf turned his attention to a specific page of the codex and recited, “Where there is conflict between mortals, the Gods merely observe. Where there is conflict between Gods, the mortals must aid us. So it was that my brother said to Nicholai, ‘You must defeat my daughter if you are to live,’ and the gentle princess said to Helen, ‘If my daughter is successful, we will be alone again.’ It was with great regret that I confess to my inaction. Should our glorious and necessary creation ever again be threatened, I shall not hesitate to defend it.”
Clint had listened to this random recital of scripture with some interest. But when Rolf had finished, he only asked. “So what?”
Richard clicked his teeth impatiently, but Rolf ignored him. “This passage is a prediction of current events. Crane knew that Comalan would not always be safe, even with the Gods to watch over us. So it was ordained that Crane would choose a champion this time. If you read on, you find that he’s passionate about the idea. But have you ever wondered why Champions are needed in the first place?”
Clint shook his head. It honestly hadn’t occurred to him to consider just what he was expected to do that the Gods couldn’t on their own. But now that he had thought of it, it seemed like a good question. “Not really, but I am now.”
The elder opened to another passage and began to read once more. “For although we control this world, our power has limits. Only the mortal kind can walk upon it while we must observe from a distance. But if the living constructs of Comalan let us into their hearts, we can see our creation through their eyes and speak with their tongues.”
Clint thought about this passage as his uncle read and when he was done, he’d had no trouble understanding this time. “The gods can’t actually set foot on Comalan without a mortal host.”
“What a surprise,” Richard said, standing up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you figure anything out that quickly.”
Clint turned to rage at Richard, but he was already leaving. “Ignore him,” Rolf said with a slow shake of his head. “For all of his devotion, he doesn’t understand Crane at all.”
Clint looked up at the face of the statue sadly. “I’m not sure I do either. How can a guy like me be the face of Crane’s intellect?”
Rolf flipped to the back of the book to read one more passage. “Although knowledge is a gift that all must appreciate, those who seek knowledge rather than simply consuming it will be most richly rewarded at the time of neosynthesis.”
The priest closed the book and smiled at Clint. “You don’t need to absorb every piece of information in the world to be smart, my child. Your intellect will flourish on the frontier of history. You’re right, though. You do need help to understand Crane a little better. You‘ll recall that only acolytes and priests know the ancient language of the Gods, but it‘s about time that you learned, don‘t you think?”
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