by T J Marquis
Bahabe knew she had been on edge since the fight at the Maw, and she tried valiantly to make sure she enjoyed her time in the grand City. It was intriguing to think how lively the abandoned heights of the City might have been in prior ages, how lovely it must have looked at night, with lights shining from every facade, but her heart lie elsewhere right now. What good would she be able to do for these people anyway?
When they got back to the Keep, she was thankful the men knew to leave her alone in her room. Jon had only knocked on the door from the courtyard to bring her dinner - a slab of beef with a savory yellow sauce and steamed vegetables - and then had let her be.
What would they say when she told them it was time for her to leave? Jon would ask her to wait - he needed her to heal him whenever he pushed too hard. He’d say she helped to ground him in this world, for she’d been his first new friend. She might not be able to leave him behind if she saw those beautiful golden eyes again, or felt the rush his presence increasingly ignited in her.
Dahm might understand, probably would, having had to strike out on his own quest and leave the comforts of home behind.
She sat on her large, soft bed, ruminating until after full dark had set in, hardening her resolve. Eventually she stepped quietly out into the courtyard, looking around. Her companions were not there, but some of Rae’s guards were patrolling. Bahabe signaled to one of them, a tall, wiry woman with short blonde hair, and asked if she could send a message to the Wizardess. She’d expected to be summoned to meet the Wizardess if she were awake, but Rae showed up at her door.
Bahabe explained her plan and asked for a map.
“Of course, dear,” Rae said. She relayed the request to an aide who waited in the hallway.
“You’re not going to try and stop me?” Bahabe asked. It seemed like something an older woman might do.
“No,” said Rae with a little smile. “Do you think I became a Wizardess by playing everything safe? Doing only what I was directed to do? Blindly following others around just to support them? Your friends will understand, though I’m sure they will miss you.
“You know, I had some older brothers, long ago - these men look at you with the same kind of eyes. Whatever you choose to do, they will be happy for you. But are you sure you want to leave at night?”
“I need to go now. I don’t think I can face him again and keep my resolve. And if… if I don’t come back by the time everything’s settled...” Bahabe said, then groaned, “ahh, it’s stupid.”
“What?”
Bahabe sighed. “Will… will you tell Jon that I loved him?”
Saying it out loud felt surreal, making the notion both more and less real.
Rae’s face softened as she released a breath. Was that a look of pity?
“Yes, I’ll tell him,” Rae said.
She provided Bahabe with the map of Enkann, drew a potential route northwest, through the ring of Katal. She also gave her fresh rations and water, an armband with her seal on it, and asked if there was anything else she could do.
“You’ve done more than enough,” Bahabe said. “I do wish you and I could talk more - it’s a shame we only just met. Just, take care of him?” Her smile was slight.
“It is a shame,” Rae said, “and I will.” Impulsively Bahabe embraced her, and the reciprocated hug was warm, motherly. “I’ll walk you to your zirah, two of my guards will escort you on the other ziri. Then go to the north gate. The gatekeepers will let you out.”
“Thank you,” Bahabe said, and braced herself for destiny.
She glanced back at the tall shadow of the Keep only once as she rode away, saying a little prayer for Jon to HAEL, if He was listening. At the north gate, the gatekeepers inspected her seal, a purple band with an arc of ten gems over swirly lines suggesting a fist, and let her out onto the remains of an old paved road leading generally north. It was a bright night, cool thanks to the elevation of these highlands, and between the stars and the zirah’s headlight, it was fairly easy to see the way.
Rae’s map indicated the old road would bend slightly westward as it wound through the highlands, then cut through Katal. Rae said the road would fade away at that point, so Bahabe would have to trek overland as she followed the pull. That should be trivial in the zirah.
Bahabe tried not to give much thought to roaming Nulians. Surely they would be rare on this side of Centrifuge. Even if she did encounter a scout or squad, she should be able to outrun them.
Energized greatly by her movement toward the pull, she rode deep into the night, and stopped not out of weariness, but a conscious effort to slow her mind and body, to let herself relax. Out here the feelings of others were no louder to her soul than the sound of shifting sands, and she welcomed this silence like a new friend.
Jon went to fetch Bahabe for breakfast early the next morning, but she wasn't in her room. He caught Rae passing through the courtyard, and his heart sunk when she said the girl had left.
Bahabe was his first friend in this new world - she'd helped to ground him in it, made everything more real and a little easier to accept. He briefly considered chasing after her, but it didn’t seem right to do so. She was finally so close to discovering her lifelong calling - he should let her to it.
"I was selfish," he told Rae. "I must have been dragging her along, away from her fate. I barely even thought about it. Was waiting on it really causing her pain?"
Rae nodded sympathetically. "Yes, but I gather she's not the type to admit to her needs. She'll either just go off on her own, as she's done, or suffer through the needs of others. Am I right?"
Jon sighed. "Well I thought I'd gotten to know her, and I guess you're right, but I feel like I could have been a better friend." Rae put a hand on his arm.
"She'll be back, I'm certain," she said. "Until then, you're doing exactly the right thing."
"I'm not doing anything," Jon said.
"Exactly."
She was right.. He knew that about women, but it was hard to keep in the forefront of his mind. He'd just have to hope Bahabe was safe on her journey, that she would find what she was looking for. He’d have to keep busy until then.
“Alright,” he said, “so put me to work. What can I do?” He’d have endless hours to ponder Bahabe’s absence later.
They strolled about the courtyard and discussed Jon’s battle experience thus far in great detail. At some point, Dahm joined them and expressed his opinions concerning Jon’s performance. They weren’t all positive, but Jon knew he was nearly untrained, untested. He set his ego aside and tried to take in the critique.
Rae described earning her mastery - painstakingly searching out and excavating the sites of fallen crystals, and choosing stones that had been chipped off, but still had their power.
“Legend has it the crystals harbor spirits that can confer authority over their element, or an aspect of existence, on whomever they choose, but I was not so lucky. With patience and study, however, the stones released their powers to me, and I proved myself to my mentor, gaining my title.
“Of course I’ve spent thousands of hours doing exercises with my stones and gems,” Rae said, wiggling her fingers before them. “But honestly, some of the greatest gains I ever experienced were simply from climbing farther up the Keep, again and again, day after day, until I reached the Throne’s docking bay. We’ve limited time, and you need more experience, Jon, so in addition to a martial regimen with our trainers, I’d suggest you do the same. Climb and climb and climb, until your breath burns in your lungs, and only your power is there to sustain you. This will force you to use it more instinctively.”
Dahm also promised to train Jon.
“Know what you want before you try anything,” he said. “Visualize the goal. It’s been key in shaping the stone, or even metal, to my will. Your light may be more ethereal than stone, but the concept is the same - your need and your authoritative will determine the manifestation of your gift, and apparently, the rate at which you tire.”
Jon w
anted to discuss the bloodlight with them - it was such an eerie thing - but something about it still felt like the baring of flesh, the unearthing of shameful secrets. He couldn’t do it. So he just said, “When do I start?”
Barracks and training grounds had been set up in the next spoke of the Keep. Jon was matched with a weapons specialist named Pilchon, who proved a firm, but patient instructor. He grumbled at Jon’s rudimentary hand-to-hand experience, and didn’t seem to give a whit about his magic. Jon was to train one-on-one with him throughout the morning, then make his first push up into the heights of the Keep.
Dahm kicked around the training grounds for a bit, inspecting weapons on their racks by authority of the armband Rae had given each of them. He began the process of drawing each one, running a thumb and forefinger down its blade, and setting it back in place. The soldiers must have thought him odd, but Jon knew they’d be in for a surprise when they next checked the sharpness of their blades.
A few hours, and many bruises, later, Jon was at leave to catch his breath and eat. He felt inundated with new information, remembering his first days taking kung fu as an adolescent. In a way, it was easier now. He had much better focus, was less worried about showing the people around him how awesome he could be, and though his goal was still to crush his opponent, now lives were at stake instead of merely his pride.
Dahm had gotten off to somewhere else, so Jon ate lunch in the mess hall with Naphte and his new comrades. Naphte had used the Wizardess’s seal to recruit himself into the ranks of the fighting men and women, who readily accepted him, with his easy-going demeanor. The former commander had his audience all cackling raucously as he made cracks about the Anekan military. Jon smiled - the man would be an officer again in no time.
Rae came around after lunch to guide Jon back into the Keep. She took him to a nondescript door at the tower’s axis, presumably some kind of emergency exit. Within was a trio of stairwells that smelled of dust and age.
“There are several stairways, and the handrails are color-coded,” Rae said. “Blue stairs wind closer to the center, so use those to go up and come back down. There’s a lot to see, most of it grim, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She said that if he was strong enough to reach the upper levels, the air would eventually grow thin, which meant somewhere up there the structure had become depressurized. He should be careful.
“HAEL guide your steps,” she said.
Jon started up the stairs.
It wasn’t long before his legs began to burn, and he imagined how mighty Rae’s must have been by the time she finally retrieved the Throne from its berth.
Dahm had made his way down toward the south gate again that afternoon. He didn’t much like being on his own, but he needed to become familiar with these people if he ever hoped to find a son among them. He watched the shadowed alleys and the press of various crowds for lonely little eyes. He knew there were men in the world who’d be doing the same, though for nefarious reasons, and he watched for these men as well. They always had tells.
Not for the first time, he thought there must be a better way. A way to heal his world, rather than merely to hang on by that final thread. Why should anyone else, especially a child, care for some distant pocket of reality they couldn’t even see? That Dahm couldn’t even prove existed? Others from his world, not just the masters, had returned from their travels with success, bringing many talented mages back into Zhamann from universes far-flung. Yet the longer Dahm looked, the more he began to doubt it would ever happen for him, despite the brave face he wore.
Rae was an afterimage in his eyes, perfect in purple, and he continually sighed at himself. Could a Wizardess go back to Zhamann with him, and survive? Setting aside the unlikelihood of her interest in him, and the fact that she was also the ruler of her people, there was no way to know if she’d live until she actually set foot into that world. He couldn’t ask any woman to do that for him, no matter what his feelings were.
He laughed at himself, smiling unselfconsciously.
You only just met her anyway, he thought. What are you, a teenager?
And yet that was part of the appeal. The very sight of her had awakened a sense and a chemical long dormant within him. Of the beautiful women he’d seen in many worlds, only Lanai had ever affected him this way.
He shook the thoughts away, realizing he’d been walking in a daze, no longer really seeing the City around him. He prayed to Cenaprim for focus. How distant was his god from this world? It didn’t matter. If he allowed himself to be distracted, he might never find his son. Worse, he might never get back to Zhamann at all.
Jon climbed one hundred and three flights of stairs that afternoon before his legs began to petition for amputation - anything to escape Jon’s abuse. Summoning the light, he absorbed the air itself for increased stamina, not wanting to steal mass from the tower, and wondering if such a trick might not be enough up where the air grew thin. He had to take better care of himself - there was no Bahabe around to heal him if he pushed too hard or made a mistake. For the first time, he began to give thought to healing himself. Could it be done?
Jon actually had to use the colored handrails for support as he made his way back down the many flights to ground level, and was most of the way down before he realized he could have flown. But ease wasn’t the point here, was it? He needed to push his body the old-fashioned way before relying on the light.
He took the time for some serious napping before dinner, and the hunger itself awoke him. It was a good feeling he’d nearly forgotten, the healthy sense of famishment after an intense workout. He knew there was much more to come.
Dahm had returned, and Rae deigned to eat dinner with her guests and soldiers in the mess hall. Though she rarely seemed to give the soldiers orders directly, they were clearly intimidated by her presence.
Jon had begun to notice the Enkannite men and women whispering as they looked at him. Was it because he was a guest of honor? Or had word gotten out that he was a wizard? He stared down his food, uncomfortable with the attention. He always forgot about this part of being well-known and was not enamored of it. Back home, his social anxiety had been something he could control, run from. Here, he had nowhere to escape, and doing so would only be detrimental to his quest.
Jon blinked away a stare, and randomly realized they were eating another meal featuring beef. That had been normal in his world, but in a culture beset by the difficulties Enkann was facing, it seemed extravagant. He asked Rae about it, trying to ignore the gazes of the soldiers.
“I inherited much toil, and a huge mess in leading this City,” Rae said, “but one of the few blessings was the ample treasury. Of all the things the Nulians took, our gold was something they missed.” She shrugged. “So I feed the army well, and support the farmers in doing so.”
“Great way to earn a man’s respect,” Naphte said around a mouthful of steak.
Jon figured a people capable of building a city like this must have been wealthy indeed.
“There’s something I don’t get, though,” he said. “There must be thousands of people flooding back into the City for protection, and what, a few hundred thousand who left to settle Anek?”
Rae nodded.
“Looking around, I imagine Centrifuge could serve millions, maybe more. I’ve never seen a city so big. So where is everyone else? Did they all die in the attack?”
“Not dead, no,” Rae frowned. “With the power out, we don’t have access to all the old histories, but apparently there’s been an exodus from here before, quite a long time ago. Our immediate predecessors were already living in someone else’s ruins.”
That explained why no one had been able to rebuild Centrifuge’s technology, and probably why the dark man wasn’t bent on total destruction of the place. He just needed the machine to cease working so he could take his ship elsewhere. Was that really all?
It also pointed to a possible reason the Throne was seemingly the only large battlecraft in Enkann�
��s possession. The rest of the fleet would have been taken in the exodus. Why leave the one behind, though?
“Naturally all kinds of legends have been spawned of this fragment of memory,” Rae said. “I hope to get enough of the City’s systems working again to be able to research exactly what happened in that exodus. I’ve never been much satisfied with myths.”
The meal drew to a close, and when no one else was looking, Jon nudged Naphte in the side and cocked a thumb toward the hall’s exit. He looked puzzled, but Jon’s glance at Dahm and Rae gave him the hint. They thanked the Wizardess for the meal and excused themselves, leaving Dahm and Rae alone. Jon heard their conversation turn to wizardly things, and he left hoping his big friend would take a chance.
Rae was deeply sympathetic when Dahm at last explained to her the plight of his homeworld. She was also very interested in the notion of portal construction and Dahm promised to teach her the craft if ever time allowed.
“You put me in mind my own dream, stonemaster,” Rae said. He couldn’t help but notice that she sounded a little different when she was speaking only to him.
Don’t get your hopes up.
“What’s that, Wizardess?” he asked.
She smiled demurely, as if embarrassed. “One wizard is simply not enough. Nor is two. Ever since I myself was a pupil I’ve dreamt of building a school for mages. You know how it is when you’re young.” Rae adopted a wide-eyed, childlike face in imitation. “We’ll do school my way, and there won’t be any rules, and, and, and… etcetera.” She chuckled. “Imagine the retainer of Enkann’s throne, a schoolteacher.”
“Headmaster works,” Dahm said with a smirk. “Much better ring to it too.”
“That does make it seem more sensible,” she said and was quiet a moment. “Is it foolish, do you think?”
“Absolutely not,” Dahm said. “Our system on Zhamann is focused on the master-apprentice relationship, but the principle is the same. It’s our job as masters to seek out those who’ll take up the torch when we’re gone. Sometimes, you don’t even give them a choice.”
