The Aurora Festival

While the waning of the brutal winter season is a cause for joy all on its own, the Spring Equinox signals the start of one of Heron's most beloved festivals, celebrating the arrival of a phenomenon the Heronites consider to be sacred. The Aurora Festival lasts an entire month, and is notable in particular for bringing even the least devout Heronites to temples across the region. Sermons during this festival take on a different flavor than they do during the Festival of Chaos. Rather than emphasizing the virtues of austerity, discipline, and obedience, services encourage templegoers to show gratitude for the natural wonders the Gods have provided for them, and to revel in their connection to the environment around them. For many, this serves as a time of healing after being forced to survive Heron's harsh winter.

The Aurora Festival is said to have originated in northern Karn Territory, not only because this area is where the Pyrisian Aurora features most spectacularly, but because many of the festival's customs seem to be influenced by the culture of the region. The Karns have often been referred to as the Lords of the Stars and Sky, after all. During the Aurora Festival, revelers bundle up and spend time gazing upwards into the darkness, waiting for the aurora and sipping dala tea. It is customary that for an hour every night, all torches and outdoor lamps be completely darkened, so as to increase the visibility of the phenomenon. During the day, the festival tents serve largely as venues for storytelling and simple theatre performances.

In the last few decades, the Lords of Heron, in a tradition begun by a former Lord Karn, have used the Aurora Festival as a time for the noble families to meet in Dalaska and celebrate as a group while working out any pressing diplomatic matters; particularly those that relate to Heron's natural environment and its protection. 

Adventures in Comalan: Greyview Cemetery

Up in Resta's northern foothills, to the north of Foldo and east of Ridge lies a terrible reminder of the bloody history that once ruled the ancient kingdom of Coronos. Once oppressed by the superior warriors of Pyris, the people of this unassuming land lived lives of constant desperation. As the occupying Brokamac tribe worked the natives to the bone on their fertile lands, the earliest heroes of the eastlands that would one day become Resta waged a bitter war to reassert the independence of Coronos. To this day, a massive cemetery lies on the spot of its deadliest battle, which claimed the lives of thousands of Restan ancestors as well as the entire Brokamac tribe. The graves are all unmarked so as to discourage desecration of the enemy Pyrisians' remains and between them lie the carefully preserved remains of the village that the combatants destroyed in the process.

To understand the carnage that marked one of the most important events in Resta and Heron's collective history, one need only visit the Royal Library of Resta's Gilded Keep, where countless books are devoted to remembrance of what would be known as the Greyview War. The event was named by historians for the pact made between various people devoted to Coronos' liberation. The first of these was Alan Whitetree, the elder of Whiteview, the northernmost village in the country-- which was among the first to fall under the Brokamac Tribe's control. The second was Karla Blackstone, a general from Necros who viewed the liberation of their northern sister country as a test from the Gods. These two friends would be joined by Hem Maloran, a man widely hailed throughout history as the first to uncover the secrets of magic. Together, these three leaders of Resta's past met on a hilltop near the Pyrisian border that would one day become the site of Fort Brokamul-- so named because the accord that was made in this spot would spell the death of the Brokamac tribe. This agreement was named the Greyview Accord for both the village of Whiteview and the historic kinship between the Whitetree and Blackstone families.

While the particulars of the war that followed aren't best described in an adventure guide, understanding this much of the history of the once proud village of Whiteview and the charge for freedom that began with its destruction is vital to grasping the significance of the Greyview Cemetery. It is a place of reverence for both templars and spellwarriors alike as their respective orders were founded by two of the Greyview Accord's signers. It is in this place alone that templars and spellwarriors, who typically share an otherwise antagonistic relationship, will greet each other as brethren. In addition, Heronite travelers will occasionally venture to this place to contemplate the last clan to be destroyed in the feudal lords' struggle for control of their country. This cemetery is also frequented by wildly curious adventurers drawn by rumors that the ghosts of those who died in the Greyview War still wander the surrounding ruins at midday. It is said there that they remain to act out the war's old hatreds-- the spirits of the freedom fighters appear to wish harm on Heronites while the Brokamac spirits are said to inflict their vengeance on Restan visitors.

Those who return from Greyview Cemetery all seem to return with haunting tales of the horrors of the war, but seem to flinch when asked anything that could confirm their stories. But despite the clear danger of trauma that faces those who seek out the ghosts, they have also come back with years of historical details that cling so vividly to their memories that they might have experienced the war themselves. Piecing together these details has helped to further the understanding of the violence that once took place on those grounds. Among these many mysterious recollections are secrets centered around the foundations of both the Hem and Blackstone orders and the fall of Pyris' fourth most powerful clan. Historical researchers pay handsomely for the information one can glean from an hour spent among the graves if they can confirm that you were there. So adventurers who can make the trek and brave the onslaught of hostile ghosts will do so, thinking that learning a little history is an easy way to make some money. But be warned: the vengeance of the deceased may not always be fatal, but it is never harmless.

James Hawke

Art by Volt

When, as the Avatar of Crane, Richard Broger brought the hidden knowledge of the Windlords back to Galeon, one of the first to line up for this gift was a little-known immigrant who dreamed of seeing the day the Windlords would become an important force in Galeon once again. When James Hawke stood before the Avatar and his apprentice to receive the memories of his ancestor, he learned that he had inherited the knowledge and skills of Abir Dragonscale, the Windlords' last grand master. With both the legacy of the most skilled warrior to enter the halls of Aeros Academy and a lifetime spent promoting the Windlords' cause behind him, James assumed his ancestor's mantle naturally. He was captured in action by Broger shortly afterward when the Avatar betrayed his world in favor of a sinister deity by the name of Erdas. In his short time among true windlords, however, he accomplished what many never thought possible when he killed a kilgor by the name of Aldin with a specially-prepared poison. In effect, he had become the first man on Comalan who has ever killed a god.

As the Windlords' grand master, James has mastered all of the group's secret techniques, but since so few other windlords choose to learn such skills, he is regarded in particular as a specialist in their combat techniques. He is skilled with the use of wind in complement with his hand-to-hand and knife-throwing skills. In close quarters combat, he might throw his opponents off balance with a forceful push of wind, while he maintains the option of creating blasts of wind that cut with the precision of a blade against more distant foes. Completing his range of attack, he can control the air within his line of sight with enough precision to throw his knives accurately for up to 2 miles. Apart from his combat prowess, he is also known to be the most accomplished at the Windlords' catching whisper technique. With sufficient focus, he can listen to any conversation within the same city.

 In terms of personality, James exudes boundless confidence, but secretly struggles to be the most skilled in everything he tries. Since being dragged to the sea planet Mennon, he has supported his companions through broad surveillance. This solitary responsibility has taken his toll on him, as the various conflicts between his friends and the planet's native sho'kai have filled his daily life with stress. Many windlords have had to contend with the fact that their needs in a modern Galeon are vastly different from what was best for their order in the days of Eris. James shares these views, and wonders if he is the best choice to lead his comrades. He spends much of his downtime thinking fondly of his longtime closest friend, and how the Windlords have flourished under her guidance.

Phoenix Blade Chapter 6

Start from the Beginning

Previous Chapter

Reclassifying my business as a trade guild was an immediate improvement for everyone involved. I had to give up the old storefront and move into a larger warehouse to accommodate the respective work spaces for each of the members. That was a pain at first. I tried to set things up evenly for everyone, but then I found out some people needed more space than others. Takaa was the worst! He needed twice as much space as I gave him at first because he wanted some room to work on his motorbikes. Then Oogura's stall was always a mess because she had too much room. We had to rebuild the boundaries a little bit, but by the time we were done, everyone was happy.

...

I would say I had a hands-off approach to leading the guild. Everyone knew their jobs better than I did and they didn't need me to tell them how to do it. I would collaborate with Moruay at times when customers commissioned jeweled leathers. This wasn't uncommon in Resta City, where athletes and military officers would wear them in ceremonial occasions. Other than that, though, I mostly kept to myself and made new jewelry whenever I wasn't busy managing our production and action contracts. Otherwise, I only demanded that they keep their respective businesses profitable so we could keep the bills paid and left them alone.

...

Well, let's see. There was Moruay with her leather work and Oogura with her pen work, as you know. Takaa signed on as a machinist and mechanic. He used to be one of Ravager's only gunsmiths before he came to the mainland to expand his mechanical expertise. He probably made out better than any of us with all of those Royal Army contracts, but he always spent nearly everything he made training at SMU. He--

...

That's the Seres Machinists Union. They are at the forefront of engineering research in Resta, and they happily share their knowledge with anyone who can afford the study materials. With the Royal Army rebuilding after the Archknight Rebellion, Takaa was making more money than anyone else by far, yet he always spent each month broke because he was working even harder to expand his mechanical knowledge. 

...

As for Saayuko, her role in the guild didn't make itself apparent immediately. She had always considered fighting and sneaking around her only skills, which you might imagine don't translate well to commerce. But when talking about how she could survive when the combat contracts went dry without any marketable skills, we discovered what she brought to the Phoenix Blade. She was a natural forager whose skill was in gathering what she needed. From that day on, I put her in charge of acquisitions and, every week she would come back to our compound with a wagon full of ores, herbs, and animal carcasses for us to skin and cook.

...

One problem that began to make itself apparent after everyone settled in was that we had not made much use of the herbs Saayuko collected and had to throw out too much of it. Oogura liked to crush them up to make her inks, but we started to consider finding someone else to turn our supply into medicines and balms. 

...

We put the word out, but since we were so new, we found quickly that recruitment wasn't that simple. I had all but given up until I received a new investigation contract. Saayuko wasn't around for me to delegate to at the time so, as the only one with the necessary experience, I took the job myself. And by the end of it, I was glad I did instead of sending anyone else.

...

The Apex District's governor had hired me to find a young daughter who had run away from home after being rejected by some boy she was sweet on. After questioning the father, the boy, and a few of her closest friends, I was able to determine that she was hiding at a friend's house in shame. As it turned out, she had desperately purchased a beauty cream that she was assured would make her irresistible to the object of her affection. But when she used it, her face changed in a... less flattering way.

...

Oh no, the cream did exactly what the girl was promised, apparently. The boy told me that he had seen her after she took the cream and suddenly became more interested than her father had been in finding her. I get the sense that knowing this wouldn't have changed her mind about disappearing. As it was, I had no luck convincing her to return home in that state and I had been specifically forbidden from trying to force her into anything. In the case of her refusal to go home, I was only supposed to tell my client where I found the girl. But knowing the shame and terror of her dead-eyed and pale appearance, I could only imagine that choice making her situation worse. So, I instead began to question her about who sold her the cream.

...

Following this trail led me back to our old friend Bene. He was up to the same tricks he pulled in life, but with newfound magical components. His scams were starting to really hurt people and, even worse, I caught him in the act. I watched him sell the exact same crap to another woman then followed him all the way back home to the ramshackle apartment where he'd been making it. He immediately launched a desperate campaign to talk himself out of it; just hamming it up and trying to fool me into believing what happened to my client's daughter wasn't his fault. I knew him too well to buy his story at this point and, when I demanded that he reverse the damage he did to the poor girl, he immediately grew defensive. You'd think I was being oppressive for holding accountable. The tortured act grew old quickly, to the point where I unloaded into him.

...

I tried to appeal to whatever morals he might have had. I asked him if he ever felt any responsibility to  justify his decision to remaining among the living? Was he going to keep sticking around just to make everyone else's lives a little worse? But of course this didn't work. He never felt any sense of responsibility in life, and becoming an outcast didn't exactly help. So, I only had one recourse. I put the pressure on him by informing him of how important my client is and just who he had fucked with. He understood quickly enough that he had really stepped in it this time. I'm not proud of it, but I used what I knew as leverage to get the antidote I wanted out of him.

...

Of course I didn't trust him. He remained very reluctantly under Takaa and Oogura's supervision until the girl was back to normal and I was able to collect my pay. When I told Bene later how I covered for him, it was easy to convince him he owed me a favor for sparing him the consequences of his actions. So, I made a space for him in the compound and gave him a stern warning. He was going to start creating some actual value for people, or I would have the spellwarriors stick him on the next boat to Midania.

...

So we had acquired an alchemist who could work with the rest of Saayuko's supplies, albeit an untrustworthy one.

Next Chapter

Death Touch Chapter 32

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Clint

Despite victory in the Resta Grand Tournament being everything Clint and Seth had wanted for years, their celebration was surreal in how short-lived it was. Seth, who had finished the match for his team, certainly seemed euphoric at first, but only until Sam had rushed to hug him in celebration. The spellwarrior recoiled almost immediately and went quiet as Queen Penelope gave the usual speech that closed the festival. He didn’t even speak up when she asked for the team’s wish, leaving Clint to do so despite the fact that the eyes of the queen and everyone else were on Seth. He knew that Seth would normally prickle with irritation at having so much attention, but curiously enough, he seemed more despondent than angry with the collective gaze upon him. Indeed, his focus seemed to be on the crowd and not the queen they had set out to appease. He found Sara sitting between Maya and who could only be the Salican champion Sara had been so doggedly seeking, but the other man’s gaze was pointed in another direction entirely. Who is he looking for?

Once the ceremony concluded, the team seemed to disperse without a word, with Seth disappearing into the crowd departing festival revelers and Sam following while shouting unanswered questions to him. Clint thought that it might not have been Sam’s best idea to bother her mentor in this particular mood, however unusual it was under the circumstances. However, any attempt to advise her differently was made impossible when Royal Guards cut him off as they teammates walked away in order to deliver the vaunted treasure they had been fighting for all along. It wasn’t long after he took Helen’s spear in his hand before Sara and her new friends appeared from the crowd. Sara’s eyes were already glued to the artifact and fueling a look of reverence.

“The Guardian Snake,” she breathed as she took it from him. Clint let it go, feeling it only appropriate to do so. She is Helen’s successor, after all.

“That’s two artifacts down,” Clint said weakly upon realizing that Sara wasn’t talking to or even acknowledging him.

Sara looked Clint in the eyes for the first time and, for a moment, the look of pride that showed in her impression reminded him of Alexis’ smile. Why do I suddenly feel guilty?

“You guys were brilliant!” Sara said excitedly. “I told Mia before that seeing you three fighting for this artifact filled me with a surge of faith in our cause. Reforging the Storm of Mercy isn’t only possible, it seems easier than it did yesterday.”

“You mean we’re looking this for a bunch of old weapons?” Mia suddenly complained. “I know where we can find plenty of good ones, for fuck’s sake!”

Sara shook her head and held out the staff. “Perhaps, but none of them carry the hopes of Serenity’s first champion or the proven power to banish a deity!”

Clint smirked at the Salican champion as she seemed to deflate. “So, who’s your new friend?”

“Someone who’s worn more blood than you can imagine!” Mia snapped indignantly. Touchy!

“Gods! Sorry!” Clint responded with a weak chuckle. “You’re going to come in handy if we need someone scary to intimidate our enemies!”

“I thought that position was filled by the other guy on your team,” the former assassin responded coolly. “I thought he was going to kill someone!”

Clint shook his head and smiled. “He’d never do that! The worse he would have done with those stars of his was burn his opponent. He has a lot more control of his flames than you’d think.”

Mia shook her head and rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about! For a second, just before he started throwing those stars, I could sense his killing intent in his expression. He almost got desperate enough to do something drastic when he was disarmed.”

Clint thought of something he’d heard about how acolytes of the Salican faith were trained as empaths. Whether she had developed this skill as suddenly as she did the storm magic Sara had mentioned or merely saw this look as a killer herself was something Clint didn’t want to think about. So, instead of merely asking how she could possibly have known this, he instead opted to try to change the subject.

“Well, he’s a good man and you’ll notice that he didn’t do it,” Clint said with a shrug. “Maybe something changed his mind.”

“We saw him looking right up at us,” Mia said with a shrug. “Maybe he was looking at that other girl who was sitting with us. She had this sort of saccharine feel to her that’d probably make him feel too guilty to do it!”

Clint suddenly looked around at the mention of their other companion. “Where is Maya, anyway?”

Sara shrugged and responded, “She took to the air so she could try to find Seth.”

Clint shrugged and nearly let the subject drop, but then something occurred to him. If Maya had been the subject of Seth’s focus, why wouldn’t he look for her near the tent? It was possible that he merely wanted to avoid the crowd so he could avoid the risk of touching anyone. But why would he have to go very far for that? Looking around, he couldn’t see Seth or Sam anywhere in sight.

“We should probably find them, right?” Mia said with a frown. “We don’t have much time to waste, but still plenty to do, after all.”

This prompted Clint to picture Seth’s demeanor from the final minutes of the tournament, trying to remember any clue that would help them figure out where he’d been. He seemed confused; despondent, perhaps? Whatever he was walking to wasn’t a source of joy, but he didn’t seem to want to bother his friends with it. Clint didn’t have to think for very long about what most often seemed to make him feel this way. Well, she wasn’t bound to ignore him forever with the recent news going around between the spellwarriors.

“I know where to go,” Clint said quietly.

So Clint led the women into the capitol’s Downtown District, the quadrant of the city that was devoted to Chaos. It was here where Clint remembered the Midas’ inn of choice in the city was located. The Colossus’ Shadow was a popular establishment for any warrior or adventurer passing through Resta City, but it was particularly favored by spellwarriors. When the three champions found this place, however, Seth and Sam were nowhere to be found. They had found Maya wandering confusedly outside, but she had apparently never found the others either.

“It doesn’t make sense!” she complained in bewilderment. “I can’t even sense the magic residue he should be carrying from the tournament! It’s like he’s just gone!”

Clint placed a calming hand on her shoulder and said, “It’s fine. I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on here.” I just need confirmation.

He would find it in a certain room, often reserved for the Midas family because of their volatile reputation in the city. He knocked loudly on the door and waited patiently. As he thought, the door opened to reveal a radiant half-elven woman with fair skin and sable hair. She regarded Clint with a look of dislike, but sighed when she saw the women behind him. 

“Come in, please!” The woman said with every hint of reluctance in her voice.

Clint beckoned to the others nervously. He didn’t like to speak to Ruby Midas anymore than he could help because of moments like this. Apart from her eccentricity, Clint always found himself intimidated by the hostility she seemed to hold for him.

“Nice to see you again, Ruby,” Clint said as he the woman closed the door. “This is Sara Marle and Mia Gold and they’re--”

Ruby tsked loudly several times until Clint shut up, as she so often did. “Silly boy! Hasn’t my son told you that everyone in the Hem Order has standing orders to support your group? I know full well who you all are!”

“Even me?” Mia asked with her eyebrows raised.

“You were a Starling!” Ruby chirped with a smirk on her face. “With broken wings, sadly. But you have been given the chance to cease being a bird and start being a typhoon!”

Mia snorted in mirth at this unusual response, which seemed to only confuse Sara and Maya. But being used to phrases like this, as well as her reputation for being incredibly well-informed even for a spellwarior, Clint only shrugged. 

“We’re actually looking for Seth,” Clint said pointedly, unwilling to let her distract herself this time. “When I saw how he got after the tournament, I had a feeling he’d be looking for you.”

“You’ve always been pretty smart for such a silly boy,” Ruby said in a singsong voice. “You’ve always seemed to think you know him better than I because you spoiled him before moving on to his sister. What an annoying mundane you are!”

Clint clicked his tongue impatiently. Don’t get dragged to that level! “You know I always enjoy these little chats, but if you’re supposed to be supporting us, can you just skip to that part? We’re in a hurry!”

“Nope!” Ruby said with as she shook her head stubbornly. “I’m supposed to help the Champions, but that thankfully doesn’t require me to talk to you such a waste of magic!”

Clint rolled his eyes in exasperation. A few decades ago, magic users used to live in fear of persecution but they only seemed to have to become elitists when they came out into the light of day. He glanced at the others and gestured impatiently. If she only wants to talk to another magic user, literally anyone else will do, at least.

“Oh, quit being such a bitch and tell us where your son is!” Mia snapped angrily. “The sooner we finish the stupid quest, the sooner I can stop boiling over with rage, so get on with it!”

Ruby looked at Mia in a tense silence that lasted several excruciating seconds until she broke it with cheerful laughter. “My, you’re rather scary, aren’t you?”

Mia bristled with the aforementioned rage, but was spared the chance to blow up by the oni woman, who added, “I have sent my son north on some Hem Order business. By the time you see him again, he will have made the next important step in your quest.”

“Do you mean the Chains of Orion?” Sara asked.

“Yes, you sweet girl, I do,” Ruby said with a honeyed smile. “Each of them lies in the hands of Maula’s most evil servants and they have been arranged so as to stand in the way of your final destination.”

“Which is where?” Mia interjected, her voice showing some signs of calm.

“Foldo,” Sara answered immediately. “That is where Maula’s temple is located. The easiest way to find her would be to summon her to the only existing altar built to honor her.”

“Two roads!” Ruby chirped as she held up two fingers. “One to the north of the city and one to the south! My son will make progress on the northern path, but if you want to save time, I would go through Flora Field and enter Foldo through the south.”

“Fuck that!” Clint snapped, suddenly. “How could you send Seth to go after one of Maula’s servants alone?”

Ruby began to glare at the champion and said, “Quiet now, silly boy! What my son faces in the north is not beyond him!”

“You don’t know that!” Clint retorted, his anger getting the better of him now. “You’ve always tried to make him do things that are beyond him! You are NOT an expert on what he can handle!”

Ruby suddenly gave him a chilling smirk. “If you’re so concerned for his safety, I’ll tell you where he went. Do you want to know?”

“Yes!” Clint roared.

“If you want to know, I will tell you,” Ruby said with a blatantly fake smile. “IF you agree to stop seeing Alexis.”

“You can’t be serious!” Sara interjected with a horrified smile. “You would really risk your son’s safety for that?”

“She’s risked it for a lot less. Trust me,” Clint growled darkly. “Fine. Tell me where he is.”

“Alexis will be better off without a mundane like you dragging her down!” Ruby sang cheerfully. “She’ll learn medical mysticism and settle down with a spellwarrior like she was always meant to! I can’t wait to tell her!”

“There’s not point to telling her anything if Seth gets killed,” Clint said with a fiery glare on his voice. “If he doesn’t make it, the first thing I’m going to do is go back to Palon and ask her to marry me!”

“Then you’d better not let him down,” Ruby said with an innocent smile. “For all of our sakes! You’ll find him somewhere along the Fire Road, between Fort Ridge and Camp Desmond.”

Clint had taken as much as he could of Loopy Ruby at that point. The champions and Maya left the inn in an awkward silence and, when they were outside, turned to each other to make their plan.

“You guys should go through the field,” Maya said immediately. “I can get to his side to help him faster than any of you could with your sky rug.”

“Are you sure?” Sara asked with a frown. “If he is going to face one of Maula’s servants, he might need all of our help!”

“She’s right,” Clint said while rubbing his temples. “Ruby has the ability send people through portals to wherever she wants. The reason Maya can’t sense his magic is probably because he and Sam are already long gone to Desmond country. He doesn’t have time to wait for all of us.”

Sara looked troubled with the prospect of splitting up so soon after finally completing the group, but there was no practical alternative. They could only have faith in the Seth’s strength and Chaos’ wisdom in choosing him as his champion. Meanwhile, they would have to focus on claiming the second of the Chains of Orion in the fey valley that lie between them and their goal.

Next stop, Flora Field!

Next Chapter

The Astersong Siblings, Part 1

“You know how he gets,” Helia said to her daughter with a sigh. “Just let him be!”

Eione scowled in response to her mother’s firm urging. “It isn’t my fault he’s a big baby!” She replied, rolling her eyes, sinking into her chair, and easily hiding the twinge of guilt she felt. “I was just trying to help!”

Helia sat down at her desk, looking at her daughter, who sat on the other side. “Yes. I know that. But you must realize that which would make you feel better will not necessarily work for him. You two are very, very different, Eione.”

The young woman furrowed her brow and folded her arms across her chest, gazing into the desk pensively. “I understand the theory behind it. The science. It is just brain chemistry after all. But I just…” She trailed off and shook her head, throwing her hands up and letting them fall into her lap. 

“You cannot fix it,” Helia said with a gentle smile of understanding. “We can support him, but we just cannot fix it. Not the way you wish you could.”

***

Atunis sat huddled in the large armchair in his father’s library as the older man flipped through papers at his desk, occasionally pausing to make a note. While Atunis appreciated that his father opted to do busy work at his desk so he could spend time with him, he knew that he almost certainly had better things to do. Atunis had trouble feeling either appreciation or guilt at the moment. The fear inside him pressed on the underside of his sternum, filling his body and leaving room for almost nothing else. He always thought it odd he never got used to the tight, panicked feeling in his chest despite the fact that once it started up like this, it could persist for hours. 

He sluggishly thumbed through a large book filled with colorful illustrations of various bird species, with the names written below. He had tried to read one of his father’s folklore books, but had too much trouble focusing on the words. He swallowed, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since the slice of toast he had forced down that morning.

Eione had tried to reason with him earlier, as she had in the past — she tried to argue with logic. 

She attempted to argue his mind out of the cycle he found it stuck in, but it just didn’t work that way. He might’ve appreciated the distractions if she hadn’t forced him to be so aware of his own emotions. He often had the thought that the only way to truly fix it was to stop feeling things altogether. Unfortunately, there are only so many ways to stop feeling one’s feelings.

Isra set the paper he had been working on aside and then turned to his son, who was staring into the picture book he held on his knees. “Why don’t you come down to the reliquary with me? It might make you feel better to do some work with your hands,” he suggested to Atunis with an encouraging smile.

Atunis let the book fall closed and sunk into the chair, finding it hard to will himself to move. Being afraid is exhausting and paralyzing. He nodded to his father and and pulled himself to his feet with a sigh and a closed, reluctant stance. Isra stepped forward and enveloped his son in a tight hug. Atunis swallowed, pushing down the tears he felt welling up behind his eyes. He took a deep breath and followed his father out of the library, accompanying the man down the hall and out beneath a vine-covered terrace, following the marble path to the reliquary. 

***

Eione sighed and impatiently kicked a large stone out of her path as she wandered through the woods outside the monastery. The corner of a large tome bound in dark leather poked out of her satchel as she trekked through the sticks and leaves. She walked for a long time, knowing she must be quite deep by now. She knew she neared the edge of the woods, which was barricaded on the opposite side by the drop of a steep seacliff. She found the small clearing she had been searching for and set her satchel down on a familiar stump.

She circled the area, making sure she was alone. She knew that most of the students and clergy would be at their midday meal by now, though that didn’t mean that nobody could wander by, looking for a quiet spot to picnic after a long hike. She had set up a small ward that would alert her if anyone drew close enough from the direction she had come from.  Confident there was nobody in the vicinity, she opened her satchel and pulled out the large, tattered tome inside. 

***

Atunis did feel a slight difference in his mood as he allowed himself to become engrossed in his task. He wasn't happy, but keeping his mind engaged seemed to leave a little less room for despair or anxiety. Iris housed a decently sized repository of relics and other artifacts, chiefly maintained by Isra, who was a learned historian and archaeologist who had been a professor before he joined the Theian clergy. He had passed much of his knowledge to his children, and while Atunis greatly appreciates his father for this, he had always preferred tales of the fantastic over the study of fact and historical analysis. He eagerly consumed books of fairy takes and legends when he was young. Isra hardly minded this. His studies had endowed him with a wealth of exciting, fantastical tales from across Comalan, including many that were unknown by most, and he was glad to share them with his enthusiastic son.

Atunis turned over a small hand mirror he held in his hands, taking note of a few empty spaces in its mosaic underside and scribbling the comment down in the notebook beside him. He caught a glimpse of his own face for a moment as he turned it back over, but quickly looked away, trying to avoid the self awareness that came from looking at his own reflection. He set the mirror down and moved to the next cubby in the storeroom.

He opened the small door and peeked inside. He gingerly reached in and pulled out a small stone figurine resembling Lady Serenity's familiar, Amologra. It was in good condition, and felt perfectly smooth to the touch. He ran his fingers over its surface a few times before placing it back inside and moving on.

After a few cubbies containing similar mundane or artistic artifacts, Atunis had begun to feel his anxiety well up inside him again. He took a deep breath and opened the next door, trying to will the feeling away. He reached inside and pulled out something quite different than the other objects he had handled. The medallion was slightly warm to the touch. It was about five inches in diameter, and looked to be made of blue gold. Atunis wondered about this — it was far more common for artifacts made from valuable materials to be kept in a safe in the reliquary basement, not in the storeroom with the more common artifacts. He ran his fingers over the glyph that was engraved on one side and murmured, "Esia."

After he uttered the incantation, Atunis was able to perceive a strong glow emanating from the medallion. He blinked a few times before hurrying to the open storeroom door, knowing he needed to alert his father to the presence of magic in the artifact. As he crossed the threshold, however, he collided roughly with his sister, who seemed to have been lurking just outside the doorway. 

"Ow!" the girl cried as she stumbled backwards, nearly falling on her backside, but catching herself first. "Watch out, you oaf!"

Atunis grunted in surprise as he bumped into the girl, his large frame hardly affected to the same degree. He furrowed his brow apologetically as he looked down at the girl. "Sorry, Eione. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Eione sighed and frowned with a hint of remorse. "It's fine!" She paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder and scanning the yard, as if making sure nobody else was present. She then put her hands on Atunis' shoulders and started pushing him back into the storeroom. She removed the doorstop and let the door fall closed behind her. "Is father in here?" she asked quietly, a serious expression on her face.

Atunis frowned and shook his head confusedly. "No. Why? What's the matter?"

Eione took a deep breath, looking more dejected than usual. "I...need help with something," she replied with what seemed to be great reluctance. She turned away from her brother as she spoke, clearly displeased with having to ask this of him.

Part 2

Adventures in Comalan: Turtle Island

For years following the Archknight Rebellion, the unification of Midania's republic of island clans has been the desperate objective of the sai'mul who longed for the recognition they earned for their role in ending Karen Blackstone's reign as Queen of Resta. It was unfortunately for most of this time that the sai'mul of Mainland Midania failed to make any meaningful connections with the other islands that once flew the banners of the Akisian Empire. Credit for the progress that allowed Midania to finally join with Katrine, Sister, Eagle Isle, and Ravager Isle in their new nation would ultimately go to the Mariknights, as well as the Avatar who sanctioned their revival. They would acquire the lost secrets the original mariknight fleet left behind on a deserted island in a remote corner of Midania's territory known as Turtle Island. This has allowed the newly formed fleet to reclaim its supremacy over the world's oceans and facilitate safer travel between the islands.

Since the Republic of Midania's official foundation, Turtle Island has been designated as an unincorporated territory. While it remains a place of some importance to the Mariknights and the Midanian government, travel there is restricted to those on official business. This island's shores are defended by Mariknights with the same ferocity usually reserved for the country's precious hopefish population. Little is known about this place, even within the public of Midania itself, but few would miss the almost perfect dome of stone that composes the island's only peak and comprises its namesake. But apart from the common knowledge that the island resembles a massive turtle, the island's entire nature is one of the world's largest mysteries. But ask the adventurers who claim to be experts on the island and you will hear only the tale of the people who once lived there before the dawn of the Akisian Empire.

It is said that in the First Age, a river ran along top of the mountain and created a gigantic waterfall that emptied into the ocean. It was under this waterfall, in a secluded cove that early mages first began to experiment with water magic. By manipulating the flow of this waterfall, the tribe of Turtle Island are said to have drawn Salica's attention to the islands in the first place. As the first practitioners of the Doctrine of Storms made their covenant with their new goddess, a strange light that was believed to be a sign of Salica's feelings for the people of Akis began to grow in the sky over Turtle Island. Believed to be a potential source of power, the first Emperor of Akis sent his sturdiest fifty boats with full crews of hardened corsairs to occupy this land. His ambition was to create a legacy that was great enough to erase that of his father-- the last chieftain of his once-modest island.

But when the corsairs attempted to assail the island, they were repelled by water mages and acolytes of Salica's new doctrine, who enjoyed nearly limitless power thanks to the might of the ocean itself. With their control of the water, they were able to keep the Akisians from landing entirely, although their attackers were undeterred by their miraculous abilities. For a year, the fleet rotated ships to keep the island under siege until the frustrated Emperor sent his entire fleet to overwhelm the island. Day and night, ships attempted to make a landing until the defenders fell from exhaustion. Turtle Island became the first island annexed into the Akisian Empire, but this heavy battle came at the cost of allowing the people of Turtle Rock access to influence their new countrymen with the Doctrine of Storms.

While the story that Turtle Rock is where the Doctrine of Storms originated is popular in most parts of the world, this is a fact that is critically debated among Restan theological scholars as well as the more remote citizens of the Midania. Indeed, while the events of the story are widely considered to be true, there is some confusion about the timeline of Salica's earliest interactions with Comalan among her devoted. Although no waterfall remains as evidence of the once-sacred source of water magic, one thing about Turtle Island remains clear: the ferocity of the mariknights who patrol the surrounding region and the absolute secrecy with which the island is regarded in the modern age speak of more than just historical reverence. That makes Turtle Island an enticing, but quite illegal, destination for any of the bravest adventures with the vision to hire the most skilled sailors to evade its naval patrol.

The Boy Who Shouldn't Exist, Part 9

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

The dog began to bark excitedly as Kaleth ran back and forth in a panic, searching for a direction to run. The racket was starting to draw the attention of onlookers, who either whooped in amusement or shouted in irritation.

"Will someone shut that damn dog up!"

"Look! He's trying to catch a mouse!"

Kaleth ran through the gap in the dog's forelegs and shot past him as fast as he could. He thought about he was doing the opposite of everything he had set out to do when people looked at him. Now, a gaggle of annoyed people and a starving dog all wanted him dead and all he could do was run. He hugged the side of the alley as he fled, searching for the tiniest nook to squeeze into. But escape would not be so simple. Every time he stopped, he found himself standing between a wall and the wind blown by the snout of the desperate beast.

His efforts to put some distance between himself and the dog were undermined by their difference in size, a disadvantage only slightly mitigated by the shortcuts his tinier body allowed him to take. Every time he did so, he would continue to run without breaking his gait, only for the dog to catch up after running around. He needed to find somewhere the dog couldn't follow, but such an opportunity was proving difficult to spot. His tiny muscles screamed for rest, but he couldn't find so much as a chance to slow down and pick a more suitable direction to run.

As he broke free of the alley, however, he was visited by a stroke of incredible luck. As he continued his sprint, he noticed that the humans walking around ahead had begun to slow again. At last, this strange perversion of time that followed him around gave him some relief instead of questions. He stopped and looked around desperately for something to run toward. All he could see was the unused festival grounds far in the distance. If he could get there, he wouldn't be safe to return to his normal body, but he could at least turn into a bird and fly away.

He decided to go for it, skittering along quickly, but not at quite the hurried pace at which he had been running before. He had a ways to go yet-- between the feet of the humans, no less-- before he could reach this small measure of safety, and he would need to pace himself. He was already beginning to consider finding another direction in which he could run to find a hiding spot. But before he could make up his mind, he started to feel that hot breath on his back again. Kaleth glanced up to find that the dog was upon him again, moving faster than before. 

This didn't make sense to Kaleth, who was sure that the magic was supposed to last a lot longer at this point in the pattern he'd painstakingly observed. Yet, the dog was tilting his snout down in an attempt to snap him up. He continued to run, noticing that the humans still weren't moving any more quickly in the process. He managed to find cover between the legs of a soldier who was apparently herding Restan refugees and turned back to look at his pursuer. The animal was changing before his eyes. What was once a mane of patch brown  was gradually turning white, and his head grew slightly larger. By the time the animal began to nudge his way through the soldier's legs, he was no longer a dog, but a frost-colored wolf. 

Kaleth continued to run from the new creature, who was now not only moving as fast as the dog had been before, but much faster. Fortunately, all of the people in the way were still reacting with the urgency of snails. Deciding to use them to his advantage, he weaved between the many pairs of feet in his path and left the creature behind to struggle against the humans. Finally, he managed to make his way into the festival grounds, which were empty at this point in the year. Although he could no longer rely on humans for cover, he had lost the wolf somewhere in the crowd. With his line of sight clear of anyone else, he took cover behind a fence post and transformed into a hawk. He could have breathed a sigh of relief as he spread his wings and took to the sanctuary of the sky.

But another problem became clear as he took to the air. Although no one could reach him, the cold of a Heronite autumn was too much for his current body for bear. His mind screamed as he fled for the relative safety of his inn. He nearly crashed as he landed on the roof and hurriedly took on a warm-blooded body. As a field lynx, he still shivered in the cold and stood out in the middle of Heron. But here, nobody could see him, nor could they react quickly enough to trouble him if they did. He rested from his turbulent outing enough of his energy returned for him to resume his mousy shape and slip back into his room. He was alone yet again and finally free to return to his body, but something was wrong. 

Impossibly, the wolf was previously chasing him was laying on his bed. This didn't stop him from returning to normal, but his mysterious appearance here did nothing to calm his nerves.

"How?"

Kaleth had let out the word with an expression of shock, which only deepened when someone answered him.

"You have finally asked the critical question," a smooth and velvety voice said to him from out of seemingly nowhere.

Kaleth jumped back from the wolf, who only glanced lazily at him before lowering his head on his paw. "Who was that?"

"Think back to what you last heard when your mind was too small to comprehend it," the voice said enigmatically. "The answer to your question lies in this memory."

Kaleth thought back to the meeting between Avatars in The Deer's Fang. Something his father had done with the power of Geos had led to the calamity that was overtaking the rest of the world. Now he was dead, and the Avatars were convinced that he had been replaced. By him.

"Geos?"

"It is always most helpful when the mortals we speak to are so clever," the voice responded. "Now that your mind has been opened to the truth, we can begin to make sense of your impossible existence."

Death Touch Chapter 31 (NO LONGER CANON)

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Seth

Seth panted heavily as he pushed aside the flap to the festival’s medical tent. Sam had been rushed there immediately as soon as she collapsed, the rest of their fight be damned. Clint followed him in uncharacteristic silence. Everyone in the RGT had been restricted to nonlethal weapons, but even that couldn’t negate the risk of two quick people colliding at top speed, especially when one of those nonlethal weapons hits you cleanly in the chest.

When the two champions found Sam, however, she was already conscious and anxiously questioning them about the result of their match.

“It was close, but we pulled it off,” Seth said with a smile. “I’ll tell you about it later. Are you going to be okay for the final?”

Sam nodded and replied, “I had the wind knocked out of me, but I’m fine now. I’m just waiting for the doctor to clear me to get back out there.”

“I’ll see if I can hurry that along,” Clint said awkwardly. Seth nearly jumped at the sound of his voice; this was the first thing he had said since the semi-final ended. He then walked away, leaving Seth to shrug at his apprentice.

“What’s the matter with him?” she asked.

“I think he blames himself for what happened to you. It was his idea for you to try to distract the Gazelle, and it didn’t work.

Sam looked miserable when she responded. “But it was a good idea! Clint can’t help that he was faster than me!”

Seth rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to help anybody for you to blame yourself either! We won, and all that matters besides that is staying focused so we can win one more time.”

Sam looked a little more hopeful, but still uncertain. “Do you think we can after that close call?”

Seth grinned and said, “Oh, we can and we must.”

Sam was thankfully discharged from the tent just in time for their match. This didn’t leave Team Salamander with enough time to check in with their friends, which Seth found particularly annoying. He already knew their final opponents were Team Moon, a trio of sisters he had once met through their uncle, Hector Marzett. This made the spellwarrior think about talking Maya, but he never had a chance to talk to her. For the first time in his four attempts at the tournament, he knew nothing about his upcoming opponents.

Anxiety seemed to set in for all of Team Salamander as they entered the pit once more to emphatic introductions from the announcers and thunderous applause.

“Team Salamander has clearly come to win this year!” Mark Winstrom shouted as they stared at the black hemisphere where their opponents were set to appear. “Ever the crowd-favorites, Midas and Blackstone’s journey to the top has certainly been a strange one this year, but they’ve climbed further than ever before! Today will answer a question that I am sure is in everyone’s minds right now--”

“Is this Team Salamander’s year or will they have to wait another year for the Royal Boon?” Maria Harret chimed in.

“With that, let’s introduce their opponents!” Mark shouted excitedly. “They are fresh faces in the RGT, but they have captivated us all with their stylish tactics! Not one of their matches has gone longer than three minutes yet! It’s Team Moon!”

Three women walked out onto the opposite side of the arena, brandishing identical smouldering smirks. They were not triplets, but their familial resemblance was clearly strong. One held a crossbow and a belt of blunted bolts, another seemed to be unarmed; presumably a caster. In the center of the trio was a woman garbed in the armor of a peacekeeper and brandishing a strangely glinting rapier.

“First up is the silent shooter, Celine. She is joined by the rain witch Chloe and the spell cutter Cierra!” Maria informed everyone. “This team seems like a perfect match against Team Salamander, making this a battle of efficiency versus sheer will!”

“Both teams are intensely focused on the other, and Her Highness has graced us with her presence!” Mark exclaimed passionately. “From the RGT Committee, we welcome you back, Queen Penelope!”

Both teams, and probably everyone else in the tent, turned their attention to the dais where the commentator’s podium was located. The Queen of Resta had taken her customary seat behind the podium. Mark held out his microphone to her with an overly courteous bow. She took it with a regal smile and held it up to their face.

“People of Resta, I apologize for my long, but necessary absence! This year’s tournament coincides with divine omens, both dark and hopeful. As we bear witness to this final match together, hold this question close to your hearts: are we here to witness history, or tragedy?”

She seemed to be looking at Seth and Clint as she spoke. You just watch, your highness! This is our year! It has to be!

“With that said, let the final RGT match begin!” The queen said before returning the microphone to Mark.

Cierra was the first to move. Without missing a beat, she thrust her rapier toward Seth. This took him by surprise, but he was able to parry the strike at the last moment. It wasn’t a flawless counter, thus the other spellwarrior was able to strike again before he could retaliate. This time, he sidestepped her attack with a gasp. Meanwhile, Clint and Sam had already split up to go after their other opponents.

“Focus on the mage!” Clint had shouted. “She’s the most dangerous one here!”

Besides me, Seth thought as he erected another barrier of black fire to give himself some breathing room. Unfortunately, Cierra’s rapier cleaved through his wall as if it were made of paper. His flames extinguished, Seth looked on in shock as she walked casually closer.

“Midas’ Black Flame Wall is shredded!” Mark roared to the audience’s approval. “That’s the power of Cierra Moon’s signature weapon, Nexus’ End!”

“That sword is a relic of the Wave of Death, when Maula walked on Comalan,” Maria explained. “Cierra has personally told me that the metal used to forge it was smelted on the petrified skin of Maula’s own servants.”

“True or not, we’ve seen this sword cut through countless spells in this tournament!” Mark said with an excited grin. “Midas is going to have a hard time gaining the upper hand with his magic!”

I’ve been marked!

“Ouch! That looked painful, but Blackstone remains standing!” Maria suddenly shouted.

Seth chanced a glance in the direction in which Clint had run. He had just pulled himself to his feet after being knocked down by one of Chloe’s spells. He barely managed to dodge another thrust when the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Celine Moon is down! She has been quick on the draw in this tournament so far, but Desmond was quicker! This is now a two on three battle!”

Seth didn’t dare to look this time, but shouted, “Nice one!”

“Celine wasn’t going to be the one to win this for us anyway!” Cierra shouted as thrust yet again. This time, her sword struck his shoulder.

Pain jolted through Seth as he staggered back and Mark shouted, “Team Moon may be down a member, but those who remain are putting plenty of pressure on Team Salamander with a clean hit to Midas!”

“If Nexus’ End hadn’t been blunted, that might have pierced him clean through!” Maria observed. “As it is, he’s going to be feeling that for the rest of the match!”

Seth found it annoying in that moment how smart Maria Harret was. The attack had indeed left a throbbing ache in his shoulder. I can’t beat her! He turned to Clint and shouted, “Trade me!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Cierra shouted as she attempted to intercept Seth, only to be blocked by Sam’s quick intervention.

“Be careful!” Seth shouted as he charged toward the mage. Clint, meanwhile turned on the spot and took aim at Cierra.

“Once again, Midas and Blackstone are switching things up! This may be the best choice Team Salamander could possibly have made!” Maria announced with a grin.

“How so?” Mark asked.

“Midas is severely crippled in a fight against Nexus’ End, but as a spellwarrior, he is trained to resist Storm Magic! If Desmond and Blackstone can keep Cierra distracted, this match could end in victory for Team Salamander!”

Seth’s charge was suddenly stopped by a sudden gust of wind that Chloe had conjured. Seth cursed as he planted his feet into the ground to wait out the spell. Winds of Terror, he reminded himself. I need to calm down. He remembered that standard storm mages weaponized the emotions they could sense with Salican Empathy and used them to influence the weather. She was quite literally using his own fear against him, which reminded him of Chaos’ lecture. He needed to conquer his fears, but he couldn’t just do so on command. He would need to try to resist the spell itself since he couldn’t stop her from casting it. Fire and disease won’t be effective in this wind!

“Desmond is down!” Mark exclaimed.

“No surprise there,” Maria commented. “A mere apprentice against a fully credentialed spellwarrior is a fight that can only end in one way!”

Seth could hear a flurry of gunshots.

“Without Desmond to watch out for, Blackstone is unloading on Cierra!” Mark pointed out then added, “This is still either team’s match!”

Seth gritted his teeth upon hearing that. Clint was not going to be able to hold off the other spellwarrior for long. The next team to get the upper hand was essentially guaranteed to win, and if he didn’t do something quickly, that team would not be his. What he needed was a spell with actual weight if he was going to overpower Chloe’s gusts.

“Kayan braka!” he roared as he flung his arm out toward his opponent with as much force as he could muster. This caused a meteor-like object to appear in the sky and fall into the storm mage.

Chloe fell to her back, but Seth cringed when he heard, “It’s a double knockout! Chloe Moon and Blackstone are both down!”

“Damn it!” Seth hissed while quickly rounding to where he had last seen Cierra. She stood over Clint, who was sitting on the ground, clutching his right arm with a look of pure agony. Must be broken.

Without any further recourse, he charged toward the other spellwarrior in the hope that he could gain the upper hand this time if he was quicker to attack. He needed to end this fight with pure sword skill, but he wasn’t feeling confident. He had never specialized in magic or martial arts during his years at Hem Academy, so he couldn’t consider himself a master of either. He managed to keep her from attacking him again with his quick attacks, but he was far from mounting an offense. What was worse, his shoulder injury was slowing down his attacks.

“This final RGT match seems to be coming down to a classic sword fight! Everyone, give it up for these incredible warriors! Chaos smiles upon us today!”

Chaos’ voice seemed to thunder in his head at that moment. “Do NOT fear your power!”

Seth ignored the voice and continued fencing with Cierra. I’m doing my best!

Another voice, one which was hauntingly familiar, whispered into his mind. “Are you, though? You could end this voice in a single touch!”

“Shut up!” Seth shouted in frustration, but he quickly paid for his distraction as Cierra disarmed him with a blindingly quick riposte.

“No,” Seth groaned as he watched his sword tumble through the air.

Ordinarily, being disarmed would be no problem for Seth, but he couldn’t rely on his magic either. For all intents and purposes, he was defeated. But he couldn’t afford to be. The same dark sensation he had gone into his coma with returned, making his skin feel clammy. Just a touch.

He scanned the tent as Cierra looked on with a triumphant smirk. This match was too important to lose, but her guard seemed to be down. She’d never see it coming! But somewhere in the audience, he saw two people he never expected to see together sitting near Sara. Maya was talking in silence to a woman who could only be Ruby Midas, his mother. The sudden absurdity of this sight brought him back to reality.

“Pyris amul groz!” Seth said as he flung a star of black fire at his opponent.

Cierra blocked the spell with her sword, but from the look on her face, Seth could tell that she had barely managed to do so. So Seth found a way around his anti-magical problem. He cast the spell again, then again; quicker and quicker without pause. She swung her blade wildly to defend herself, but Seth kept up the pressure. She can’t stop them all!

“In a fit of desperation, Midas has begun unleashing spell after spell!” Mark announced. “But one by one, each attack is falling before the enchanting power of Nexus’ End! He’ll tire himself out eventually!”

“Not necessarily,” Maria said, a little more excitedly. “He seems to be casting Black Flame Star, an obscure spellwarrior technique that’s known for having an extremely low inertial propulsion variable! What this means is that this spell is considered physically light, so he’s trading less energy for more power! This could still go either way!”

You’re damned right! Seth continued to pepper her opponent with fiery projectiles. Soon, they were moving so quickly that they began to resemble a black blur. Cierra continued to parry them all as quickly as she could until…

“Direct hit! And Cierra is on fire! This could be Midas’ chance!”

Seth took advantage of his opponents distraction to reclaim his sword and slam it down onto her shoulder. As Cierra crumbled to the ground, the cheers of the crowd grew deafening and his euphoria grew overwhelming

“Cierra Moon is down! Team Salamander wins the Resta Grand Tournament!”

Next Chapter

It Comes For Those Who Don't Run, Part 11

Back to the Beginning

Previous

You have lost it for now, but beware...

Aennin wanted to talk to Kana about giving up the clock shop for good, but she wasn't home when Katim finally let him off for the night, but was serving drinks at the pub. This was the case every night that followed. This pattern was more than a coincidence, he was sure. After weeks of work for Katim, it became clear that their schedules were arranged so that neither of them were busy at the same time. Every day, Aennin ran around town, delivering packages for his new boss while nights were spent at home, worrying about what his sister was dealing with at the pub. Aennin was specifically forbidden from going to the pub at night because of his age, which Katim worried might be more of a problem when the place was busy, so he could never check on her. Whenever she came home from her shifts every morning, she would shrug off his questions and remind him that Katim was waiting before stumbling to bed.

This trend continued until Aennin stopped inquiring about her, figuring that she would say something if she were in trouble. As their work became routine, so did a new family dynamic in the apartment. Whole days would go by in which they didn't see each other at all, to the point that they began to feel less like siblings and more like two strangers living in the same home. As much as this saddened the boy, it wasn't as if he was lonely. Despite his emphatic desire to avoid becoming friendly with the criminals in Katim's employ, he ended up making friends with Landah. Whenever Katim was too busy to give Aennin anything to do, Landah would be the one to set him on his route. Aennin quickly began to prefer getting his assignments from him to interacting with Katim because of Landah's helpful attitude. One day, after a month in Katim's employ, Aennin felt bold enough to ask Landah why he was always so nice to him.

"I used to run packages for Katim before I got... promoted," the man said with a smile. "I just think you could benefit from my experience. If you can get a run done quickly, that helps the whole crew."

Aennin nodded in understanding. "When I first started here, I thought everyone here hated each other. But you really care about this group, don't you?"

Landah stood up from his favorite stool and leaned over the bar to fumble for something under the counter. From there, he withdrew a framed picture of a young boy standing on a pile of rubble, hugging another in tattered clothing. The larger of the two appeared to be weeping while the smaller had a face stricken with intense rage.

"This is a portrait Seliah took of me and Katim when we were just boys," he said as he handed the picture to Aennin for a closer look.

Aennin looked at the picture with interest. "What happened to you?"

Landah sighed and picked up his drink for another sip. Upon setting it down, he replied. "This is what the caste system has done to us. Do you know what happens to a Mercantile family that goes completely broke?"

Aennin simply shook his head. He had plenty of reason to contemplate that question long before the man had asked, especially with his old fears of his father running their shop into the ground. But working for Katim had alleviated that concern. While he was still heavily paying for his father's mistakes, he was still paid enough to make sure that he and Kana would live comfortably.

Landah rolled his eyes and said, "Okay, well those of us who lose our family fortunes wind up relying on the kindness of others to survive. You have to be able to find a charitable stranger or starve to death. It's that simple."

Aennin frowned and handed the picture back. "That sounds terrible! I guess I'm lucky that I don't have to live like that."

Landah nodded as he continued to stare at the picture. "This portrait was made when Seliah found us, close to sfarving. Have you met her yet?"

Aennin shook his head.

"She's a sweet old lady. She took us into her household and tried to pass us off as Worker boys. But seeing how another caste lives was like a slap in the face to us. We went to a new school, where we actually felt like we belonged. It was a boring place, and the responsibilities they foisted on us were over the top."

"How so?"

"Everyone in the Worker Caste is expected to be both smart and strong. We were expected to grow up working hard building shit or clearing up the ruins while still being extensively trained in archaeology."

Landah paused and took another sip of his drink. "As you can probably imagine, there was a lot of stress in that school. It got to me and plenty of the friends we made. But Katim always seemed to take everything in stride. That was until one day, when he was 17. He just blew up in class one day and started ranting about the Caste system. How the merchants have no safety net when their businesses fail, how workers bust their asses day after day, and how the people of the Elder caste ignore everyone else."

Aennin frowned and mumbled. "My mother used to be Elder Caste. She wanted me to leave my caste and join them."

Landah looked at Aennin with a sympathetic expression and said, "Well, I couldn't disagree with that ideal more, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry you didn't get to make her proud."

Aennin went silent, afraid to say what was on my mind. Whose fault was that, anyway?

"Look, I really am sorry. If I was there when those guys went to your place, I would have tried to stop them from going so far."

"Who was there?" Aennin suddenly asked, his eyes suddenly piercing those of the older elf.

Landah shook his head and scoffed. "Come on, Aennin! You know I can't answer that question!"

Feeling bolder, Aennin replied. "Don't you think I deserve to know? I could have talked to them!"

"You really don't want to dig into that mess," Landah said as he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Katim would rather you let that go and I think we both know what will happen if you don't."

Aennin sighed and began to stare at the counter, listening to the chatter of the pub's few morning patrons. Landah continued to stare at the portrait and neither of them said anything until Katim emerged from his office, moving in a hurry.

"Oh good, you're still here!" Katim said to Aennin with a grin on his face. "There's been a change of plans. Whatever Landah was about to have you do, forget about it."

Aennin looked up as if he had only just noticed the boss' presence. "What's up?"

Katim set a box on the bar between Aennin's outstretched arms. The boy picked it up and found it to be much heavier than usual.

"You're going to take this to the address that's written on the box, leave it by the door and come right back," the pub owner said cheerfully. "Now, the contents are a little too fragile for you to run with this one, but you don't need to waste time talking to anyone. Just drop it off and then you can complete the delivery."

"Or, he could just take both of them out at the same time. Mine was actually time sensitive," Landah said pointedly.

Katim glanced at the other man and his eyes narrowed when he saw the old picture. "Put that away!"

Landah sighed and stuffed the portrait back under the bar counter.

Katim then glanced to Aennin. "So is mine, but he has a point. Just deliver mine first, whatever you do."

Without leaving any other room to argue, Katim returned to office and Landah smiled weakly. "Well, if you do this one first, you can at least start running with this one once that's done."

Landah handed Aennin a brass mail tube like he was used to delivering. "Well, you'd better get going. If Katim's willing to keep one of his favorite customers waiting, that box must be important.

Aennin stuffed the tube in his satchel and picked up the box. "I'll try to be quick."

Landah turned away from Aennin and began to pour himself another drink as the boy left. Once he was outside, he put the box to his ear and rattled it gently. It sounded like a clock. Could he be delivering some of the last of his stock?

Next

Adventures in Comalan: The Zoo of Bion

Western Galeon, in contrast to the east, is known primarily for the vast stretches of unsullied land that lie between its few large settlements. The Galean people hold nature in high regard, but respectful travelers are encouraged to spend time appreciating the land's natural beauty, and can often find the locals to be very helpful when one seeks advice on places one should explore, and those one should avoid. Western Galeans often advise foreigners to use caution when traveling the expanse of chaparral between Abuk and Gienah. Queries about this are generally met with a smile and a response akin to, "The monorail route that curves through the desert is far more pleasant", as if everyone had agreed to just not speak of it. For a nation that so values knowledge and transparency, the culture of silence surrounding this place can be quite the mystery, at least until one understands the full story of what lies there. 

The Zoo of Bion, as the stretch is sometimes called if one is willing to pry, is a place that Galeans from the region are taught of at a very particular age; when they are old enough to understand the intended moral of the story, but young enough to absorb the lesson in a way that will shape their future development. When one asks why this story is not shared with those not of the region, the answer one will often receive is, "To avoid planting a seed of temptation". Seemingly, the reason that this particular site continues to be shrouded in secrecy is that knowledge of whatever lies there could, contrary to much of what Galeans believe with regards to the spread of knowledge and transparency, cause a particular atrocity to occur again, rather than be avoided. 

Of course, despite this secrecy, there are always those willing to explore areas they are cautioned against venturing into. A university student from Fides points to a well-poked at map of the country pinned to his wall, which shows the increased prevalence of a particular kind of report in the settlements surrounding the Zoo of Bion. A sighting of odd creatures that have the head of a lion and the body of a massive serpent,, which travel in packs. An attack by a monster that looked like a massive scorpion, but with as many legs as a centipede. A mysterious woman who wanders through the edge of a settlement, and when someone approaches, she turns and shows that she bears the face of a hairless mole. The reports go back as far as there have been reports, he says. He recalls a friend of his who sent him a correspondence while exploring the area. 

I reached the midpoint between Abuk and Gienah today, and set up camp. There's a dim glow in the distance, but it's too close to be from Gienah. Going to check it out tomorrow.

He claims this is the final letter he ever received from his friend, and that the boy never returned from his venture into the Zoo. He also claims that reports he made to the relevant forces in Galeon and to the council fell on deaf ears. This could not be confirmed, however, as they claim they never received such a report in the first place.