by Jamie Hawke
Aerona’s eyes met mine with a look that told me not to say anything about the dreams. I gave her a slight nod.
“He saved a lot of lives,” Aerona said.
“But mine was special to me,” Riland replied.
That earned a slight laugh from her, a broad smile from me.
“He never liked fighting,” Riland said.
“Does anyone?” I asked.
“I love it,” Riland said with a chuckle.
“Same for me.” Aerona actually showed a hint of a smile. “The thrill. If my opponents are bad, of course.”
“Of course,” I replied, hands up in surrender.
“That day, though?” Riland chuckled, eyes ahead as he walked. “I swear he had the love of the fight in his eyes. It was during the War of the Three Crystals, and we had just taken Castle Gloveard. There we were, in the heat of battle with wildguists and all manner of ice wailers trying to break through. He was pushing toward the rear, when suddenly the back wall exploded—literally, exploded—and we dove into a side passage. He shouted about finding you, about getting back to you above all else, and I didn’t have a clue as to why, didn’t know you were together at the time.
“And yet, the moment an ice wailer shot out from the wall, black with gleaming blue spikes shooting toward me, he leaped into its path without a second thought. He was like that, right?”
“Selfless to a fault,” Aerona replied, eyes glistening.
“He sounds like a great guy,” I said, but then turned back to Riland. “Wait, so… did he get hurt that time?”
“Oh, yes. Very badly. Ebrill was with him three nights for healing, in order to make the scars go away.”
“It worked,” Aerona said. When she noticed the cautious way I looked at her, she shook her head. “And no, nothing to be worried about with those two. At first, I was jealous, but that was a long time ago. That emotion no longer hangs with me. And more than that, when I’d go visit him and talk with the two of them, it made me understand myself better, get to the point I am now.”
“I see.” Although the words left my mouth, I wasn’t sure where she was now, exactly, or what she meant by that. Maybe she was referring to the clear fact that she had unapologetic feelings toward me? Many people in her situation would be concerned, maybe guilt-ridden, considering she had recently found out her former lover was still alive—albeit almost dead. Or dead, but not completely gone. As confusing as it was, she seemed stable on that front.
“Wait. Do you see what I see?” Riland asked, his voice low.
For a second, I thought he was quoting a Christmas song, maybe as a way of mocking me. Then I remembered that he probably wasn’t aware of the song. On top of that, he had just drawn his sword.
My hand went out to my side, ready to summon the Liahona if necessary. At the same time, my screen of spells popped up, my eyes flying through the list to see what would be useful here.
“Tarian,” I hissed, boosting our defenses, then “Elfenol Streic.” I’d almost forgotten about my elemental strike spell, but in a place like this, it was likely much more of a safe bet than using the Liahona.
Letting my staff grow as the blue magic of ice took hold, I took up an offensive stance, knees bent, back heel raised. The moment the creatures appeared in full sight, I was out, moving to attack.
Only, they were ice creatures. Three of them, I now saw. Switching out ice, I went with fire instead. They were strange creatures, about the height of two men with icy bodies, but twisted and misshapen. Jagged ice spears poked out of their backs and limbs and pulsating blue moved across them like flowing blood, visible through their translucent skin.
I attacked the first from a distance, thrusting my staff out so that a burst of fire shot from it. When the fireball hit, the creature roared, charging toward me seemingly unhindered. Not good. Still, I pressed the attack with fire, charging in as well and diving under the first ice attack to come back with a blow to its midsection. Flames went inside the thing this time and I watched as its body seemed to explode. Only, the skin contained the explosion so that the result was more misshapenness, more jagged ice spears, and one pissed-off-looking ice demon.
Considering what this thing was capable of, yeah, ‘ice demon’ seemed like a good title.
Its gleaming blue eyes turned to me, narrowed, and its hand shot out, connecting with my head. A simple move—just a hand on my head—but it was so much more than that.
As icy cold tendrils moved through me, I discovered that I was frozen in ice, but in another world. A world where everything matched the one I had been in but was now ice. I only knew it wasn’t the Dark Lands because of my ability to sense magic. My power that told me my team was far off, Aerona and Riland locked in their separate battles with the ice demons.
The cold tore through me, trying to break my body and mind at once. But, not fast enough—not before I was able to transmorph myself out of there. More and more, my confidence rose in this regard, and as my mind and body returned to the Dark Lands, I was able to push back on the ice demon and create my own little world for him.
The two of us were suddenly engulfed in stone. I sent fire surging into his body so that he convulsed, more and more of those spikes shooting out until he looked like a huge sea urchin of black and dark blue.
Grinning, feeling like quite the badass, I then switched to lightning mode on my staff and thrust it into the ground at the same time as I made the rocks around us shoot in on the bastard. A burst of lightning, an explosive cracking sound… and when I pulled the rocks away, all that remained were gooey chunks of melting ice.
I turned to see Aerona, hand up against one of the others, as if they were playing a game of mercy. Riland, however, was on the ground, writhing, eyes blue as his body started to turn into ice. Shit, they were making him into one of them!
While Aerona was my girl in a sense, she seemed to be handling herself better than Riland. So, it wasn’t a choice between the two of them, but rather a matter of who needed my help most. I charged over to him, hitting the ice demon with blasts of lightning, but quickly realized that was the wrong thing to do. For one, each blast caused Riland to also convulse in pain. Secondly, if Aerona could defeat the one against her, she could help.
Spinning back her way, I made the rocks shoot up around her ice demon’s feet, then muttered several spells to see if I could get him to sleep, or at least stun the fucker. None of it seemed to work. Glancing back at Riland with increasing worry, an idea struck me. If my elemental magic could work with the staff to etch a rune into the ground, I might be able to finish this quickly.
With that in mind, I muttered “Elfenol Streic” again, to ensure the elemental magic was strong. Then, as fast as I could, I referenced the rune magic in my digital screen and got to it. Three quick runes, then I ran in a circle around Riland, Aerona, and their opponents.
Light blue and white light shot up from the circle, runes glowing green, and then there was a flash as the runes activated. All magic within the circle was turned off. Rune magic, baby.
Riland blinked, confused, and the ice demon with a hand on his head stared, equally confused. Aerona growled as she and her ice demon went at each other hand-to-hand, her horns helping, tail lashing about and acting like a whip.
While the ice demon was twice Riland’s size—large and looming over him as it knelt—the moment Riland was free from its spell, he acted. Sword in one hand, he was up, plunging the blade into the demon’s chest. He pulled it out, then spun and lodged it deep in the bastard’s neck. The neck was too thick to cleave in one strike, but I was there to strike it in its throat. The creature shook, head flopping forward and hanging on by a thread of skin as Riland pulled his blade free.
“To be safe,” Aerona said, leaping over and grabbing the head, pulling it off with a snap of the skin. She turned and heaved it at her attacker, then was back in to flip the creature onto its back. She held out her hand, and Riland tossed her his sword. In one swift motion, she caught it and plung
ed it into the last ice demon’s skull. She stood and twisted the blade, breaking the head in half, before severing it at the neck as well. Her strike being much stronger, the head came off in one blow.
She tossed the sword back over, nodded, and motioned for him to lead the way.
No time to recuperate, I noted with a chuckle. My focus was pulled to my XP bar, showing the kill had netted me a large number of points toward my next level. As sweet as that was, my confidence with the transmutation magic was starting to get to the point that I knew leveling up wouldn’t be needed much longer. Still, I enjoyed the gaming element of it all, and figured I would keep it around. When I had learned of my acceptance to Johns Hopkins, I had kind of decided to put games on hold. It sucked, because I had recently started my third play-through of Shadow of the Colossus, which they had remastered, or redone or whatever, yet again, and I had wanted to get into the latest Borderlands. This real-life leveling up was more fun in a way, and something I could do to scratch that itch.
So, who cared if I had the power to level up, or cultivate or whatever on my own. I was going to keep doing it the fun way. I also felt more comfortable practicing the spells and magic this way, learning and improving as I went. Imagine having all the power in the world at once and somehow not blowing your testicles off. Something to worry about.
We reached the top of that incline and paused, eyes scouring our surroundings. More rocks and spots where ice was creeping up.
“There!” Riland said, and I recognized the place as well. A brilliant, translucent stone rose from the ground, and in that stone, the form of Draedar. My guess was that some magical element of this place found those who were dying, converging on them and creating this. Did they become actual stones? With that thought, looking at the surrounding mountains and jagged stones took on a whole new meaning.
“Should I…?” Aerona asked, voice catching.
“Together,” Riland said.
We knelt before Draedar’s partially visible form. His hands and face were still free of the stone. We watched as he opened his eyes and took us in. When those eyes met Aerona’s gaze, they stayed there, emotion welling up.
“Is that really you?” Aerona asked.
“The last of me,” Draedar said. He reached out a hand, but when she knelt at his side and tried to take it, their hands passed through each other’s.
“It’s been so long, but feels like only a few days,” Aerona said.
“To me, it feels like an eternity,” he replied, and for a moment he was back, hand clenching hers, then fading again. “What we had was special, but it’s time you move on, as must I.”
She let out a stifled sob, then nodded and pressed his fading hand to her lips. As they touched his hand, he faded, and then was gone.
As quick as that, it was over.
No more words on it, Aerona simply stood, wiped her eyes, and said, “Let’s go find Yenifer.”
128
Returning to the senator’s house, we entered to see the rest of our team waiting. After a bit of an after-action report with Megha, she set up some spells so that we didn’t have as much to worry about in regard to being intercepted. Shisa was playing with Steph, and Megha was poring over a map with one of the people who I still liked referring to as interns.
“Is it…?” Ebrill started, upon seeing us.
“Over,” Aerona finished for her. “Yes.” A moment of silence followed, ending with Aerona approaching the maps and saying, “What’ve you got?”
“Traces of magic, but we can’t be sure it’s her.” Megha took a moment, eyeing me and then Aerona again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Aerona shook her head, arms around herself.
It wasn’t until then that I noticed the smell—garlic and oil? A moment later, Steph poked her head around the corner. “It’s ready for you all.”
Kordelia grinned, grabbing Aerona by the hand and pulling her along. Watching two gargoyles with massive wing and horns go through doorways and halls was humorous, but I made a note to myself to adjust the interior size of this place so they would be able to walk around more easily.
“What’s going on?” I hissed to Ebrill, who was beaming.
“Nothing,” she replied with a wink. “Our way of comforting each other, back in our time.”
Megha frowned, moving away from the map for now to join me as I followed, the others coming behind us.
In the kitchen, Steph had stepped off to one side while Kordelia waited, wings spread. When we were all in, she stepped aside and folded her wings, gesturing to a large pot and a variety of cut vegetables and chicken breasts.
“Aerona, if you’d do the honors.”
“You all are too much,” Aerona said, hand to her mouth. After a moment, she stepped up and assessed the ingredients. She tasted some seasoning—apparently put off by the curry powder—and then went about adding carrots and celery to the pot, first. “Half of this stuff doesn’t look like anything we had in our day, but… it’ll be amazing, I’m sure.”
“What’s happening?” I asked as Ebrill and Kordelia stepped forward to help.
Megha moved in, too, sliding her dress’s black sleeves up her arms. “Communal cooking. A moment of bonding and new beginnings.”
“Oh.” So, it was basically their way of helping Aerona through the grief. Some old practice from before. With that in mind, I stepped up, too, tossing my jacket onto a nearby stool.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Riland said from his spot behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
All the ladies had turned to stare at me in confusion.
“Helping,” I replied. “Of course.”
Another moment, and then they all started laughing. What followed then was me and Riland finding Galahad, the three of us sharing some of the senator’s whiskey and shooting the shit, while the ladies bonded with some girls’ time.
“It’s so strange that I wanted to help cook?” I asked.
Riland chuckled as if that was a joke in itself, but when he saw that I wasn’t laughing, he said, “Oh, yes. It’s usually servant work, but otherwise falls on the women. Never men. Why? Has that changed in this time period?”
“It has,” Galahad answered, as I was too dumbstruck to reply at first.
I took a sip of the whiskey, loving the spicy smoothness in my throat. “I guess that’s how it might have been once, but… yeah, guys cook all the time now. Wait, what about during wars and stuff, when there weren’t women?”
“And the servants were dead?” Galahad thought about this a moment, then turned to Riland. “Did you ever cook?”
“I knew this guy who did—because he loved to,” Riland replied. “Usually stew when we had long hours to wait—during a siege, for example—but he was also wonderful at salting beef.”
“You all are crazy.” I chugged down the rest of my glass and held it out for another.
“Speaking of crazy.” Galahad nodded at the glass but poured. “Don’t forget, we might have to head out soon—we don’t know. Better to not be over-the-top drunk at this point.”
“Right.” I eyed the glass, debating. Another sip.
“Wait, so you… know how?” Riland asked me. “To cook, I mean. Like, what do you cook?”
I chuckled. “My favorite? Maybe this lasagna recipe my dad got from his mom. I’m talking cheese out the yin-yang here, you know what I’m saying?”
Both of them stared at me blankly.
“I’ll make it for you all sometime,” I said, shaking my head at the thought that anyone might not ever have experienced lasagna.
“This right here,” Riland said, raising his glass, “is outstanding. Food and drink have really gone a long way since our time.”
Galahad laughed, taking a sip. “To say nothing of buildings, technology, transportation…”
“All of those things are important, but I’ve always enjoyed the simple things in life.”
“To the simple things,” I said, raising my glass.
As
complicated as life was, he was right. While I enjoyed the magic, the wings, the horns… all of this insane life I had recently been thrown into, what really mattered was the moments like this, the kisses with the ladies, the simple things. Then again, the horns and wings and magic and all that was pretty fucking awesome.
“Who am I kidding,” I said, another sip down, “it’s the simple and the complex. I love it all.”
“To having it all,” Galahad said, this time raising his glass.
We all drank to that, and I couldn’t stop the silly grin taking over my face. It was all too true. There I was with a team of amazing lovers, some human, others less so—at least now, two amazing mansions in D.C., and a weird prospect of becoming a senator. Who knew where that could lead!
From there, Riland and Galahad took turns regaling us with war stories, tales of their adventures that are best left for another time, and a very different version of the King Arthur legend than I was used to. Let’s just say, curses weren’t so rare back in those days.
“Ready,” Aerona said, looking much cheerier where she stood beckoning to us from the doorway.
We joined them at the table, along with the interns and others in the building, while the ladies who had once served Rianne now served us our meals.
“It’s done,” Aerona said, when the conversation moved away from small talk and we went over the way one of the Nine had intercepted me before. “Draedar was a great man, may he rest in peace.”
“May he rest in peace,” the others said, and I repeated it.
I was in an awkward situation, what with having started a semi-romance with Aerona, but I could understand and be there for her.
“In your day,” I asked, “how did you mourn? And… bury the dead?” When Galahad perked up, I added, “We should do so, for both of our recent losses.”
Aerona looked at me for a long moment, opened her mouth, then closed it as she turned to Ebrill. Catching the hint, Ebrill put a hand on hers.
