Kraznik and Gitch continued to gawk as Takaar strode forward to talk with the keeper of the establishment, of whom both Kraznik and Gitch had completely ignored.
“Tryx, I need two single rooms for her majesty‘s guests here. Take care of them, but any extracurricular activities are not to be charged to the royal account.”
“Anything for the queen,” Tryx said sarcastically. She pulled two keys from a nearby cupboard and handed them out before giving a curtsey that looked anything but genuine. Takaar rolled his eyes but took the keys. He walked back over to where the two idiots stood and smacked them both on the side of the head. It was light, but enough to get their attention.
“Here are your keys, room numbers are etched in each. The queen will pay for your room and board for up to one week. After that, lodging is on you. Anything outside of room and board will be up to you both to manage. I will come by in the morning to pick up Kraznik for questioning. Gitch, you are free to spend the day as you wish. The market opens at dawn, and there is much to see on this island. I suggest reading our laws a few times and explore a little. Get to know your new brothers and sisters.”
He then took his leave and the two headed to their respective rooms. He bayed good night to Kraz and entered his room. There were no majestic paintings of unicorns or drunk gnomes, just a bed and a small wooden chair. That was enough for him. Today had been crazy and all he wanted now was some sleep. He laid down, and his wish was granted.
Chapter 19
Gitch was submerged within a dreamless sleep, completely unaware of what was about to befall him. A dark figure slowly made his way past the drowsy inn keeper and up to the sleeping fairy. He whipped out a small white rod and pressed the tip against the fairy’s pink forehead and set to work. His mouth split wide in a fanged smile, as he inspected his handiwork and read the new notification. Only once he read it through did he raise a hand to the slumbering fairy’s face and give him a rousing slap.
“Ow! Kraz? What the hell? Get out of my room!” Gitch whined.
“Sure thing... Now what?” Kraz said with a smirk.
“You’re still here, I want night-night. Mean impy go away!”
Kraz sniggered, “We aren’t in your room, dummy! Get off of that thing before you hurt yourself.”
Gitch finally opened both eyes and saw the imp holding a fine piece of white chalk. “Kraz? What’s going on?”
The imp had a sly smirk on his face. “You tell me. Get a little lonely last night?”
A cold sweat broke out on Gitch‘s face as he nervously looked about him. He was sitting up on the unicorn statue, nestled snugly between the drunken gnome’s outstretched arms.
Gitch sighed. “I, eh, sleep walk. My luck score is bottom of the barrel, and I think this is one of the side effects.
“Oh, I don’t know. It looks like you got pretty lucky last night!” Kraz snorted at his own joke.
“Whatever, jerk. What’s with the chalk?”
“I told you, I’m a Vandal. I get bonus experience for leaving my mark wherever I go.”
Gitch sat up and looked down at the unicorn. “You kidding me, Kraz? We haven’t been here 24 hours and you already graffiti a statue?”
“Nah, I got nothing against unicorns or drunk gnomes. You, on the other hand, might want to go check your face in a mirror before heading out!” he finished with a laugh.
Gitch closed his eyes and mumbled, “Ass-hat.” He was immediately hit with a splitting migraine. He brought both hands to his temples and squeezed with all his puny strength. Gitch shut his eyes and moaned in pain. As the pain began to die down, he opened his eyes to a new system notification.
SHAME!
You have broken one of the sacred laws of the Dufflin Fairies. You lose 100 experience points and suffer a 5% reduction in experience points gained for the next 12 hours.
“Shit!” He shouted before he could stop himself.
DOUBLE SHAME!
You have again broken one of the sacred laws of the Dufflin Fairies. You lose 250 experience points and suffer a 10% reduction in experience points gained for the next 12 hours.
The pain was horrendous! Gitch continued to squeeze his head with one hand but immediately clapped his other hand over his mouth before screwing himself over any further. He had no idea he could lose the experience points he had already gained, let alone for something as stupid as cursing. Sure, he remembered now the queens decree on profanity, but he didn’t know there would be actual consequences for what he said in private.
He loved magic, but this sucked. He didn’t want Big Brother Fairy breathing down his neck. He needed to look over those laws pronto before he did something worse.
He ran back to his room, hand still covering his mouth. Kraz stared after him in bewilderment before calling out to him.
“I‘m off for questioning, but let’s meet up later once you clean yourself off.”
Gitch flipped him the bird as he ran back to his room, but all Kraz heard was muffled shouting that sounded a lot like ‘Shame‘. He shrugged his shoulders and left the building to find Takaar waiting for him.
Gitch, meanwhile, was busy cursing himself, silently, all the way to his room. Apparently, the enchantment knew what the middle finger represented and didn’t take too kindly to the gesture. He slammed his door behind him and went searching for Dwik’s old looking glass and the code of laws he received just last night from the court scribe. Both were in his Pouch of Holding, which remained planted on the arm of the chair. He debated which to pull out first. He wanted to know what that twerp wrote on his head but ended up pulling out the laws first. He couldn’t afford breaking any more out of sheer ignorance. He pulled out the small sheet of paper and began to read.
LAWS OF THE FAE
No murder, treason, or other nasties
Only steal from those that deserve it
Prank who you like, but don’t take it too far
No cursing, and correct others to protect our virgin ears*
*See attached for list of disapproved words. Reward for correction limited to three separate persons per day. It is forbidden to share this knowledge with non-fairies.
None of the rules were very straight forward. He assumed the ‘nasties‘ were obvious crimes, but he found the Fae philosophy on theft interesting. Gitch turned the sheet over hoping for additional clarification of the last rule. The one that he had already broken three times.
He found the list of outlawed words and poured over each of them carefully. It took several long minutes as there had to be well over a hundred forbidden words written down, many of which made him blush. The standards were there, of course, but there were also many words that had no discernible meaning to him. As much as it pained him, he committed the list to memory. Never again did he want to lose any of his well-earned experience points because of this one stupid law.
He now saw why the other fairies came up with such clever swearing, even in private. Magic could be a real bit-ehh, pain. He wasn’t sure if the law, or curse as he was beginning to see it, extended to thought as well as spoken word and gesture. Having just lost a crap load of experience, he was not about to risk it again.
It was too late to quit on his kin. Besides, pissing off the only allied faction in the area was not a good plan, just ask Kraz. He resolved to change his vocab from then on out. Friggin laws.
After his miniature brooding session was over, he picked up the looking glass to take a gander at the imp’s handiwork.
K was here!
All things considered, it could have been much worse. He made his way to the communal privy down the hall and began the process of washing himself off. What he didn’t know, but soon would discover, was that Kraz did not use regular chalk. Nope, the concoction used in his little rod was impervious to water, only coming off via magic or extensive rubbing. Gitch left the privy 30 minutes later with a forehead a different shade of pink than the rest of his body. He was not in the best of moods and left the inn in a hurry.
The sun was still visible to the east, not yet passing behind the large canopy of the Banyan Tree which covered much of the island. The heat felt good on his face, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. He had seen many horrors over the last week, but it all seemed to melt away as the sunshine washed over him.
It struck him that this was the first genuine time since arriving in Mentira that he was actually alone. Sure, there was that time he had turned Dwik into dung and also when he flew through the dark forest in search of the injured gnome, but he didn’t really count those. They were too temporary and each carried their own sense of impending danger. He felt no danger in this place.
Gitch took his first step into the day and immediately plummeted towards the ground. He hurriedly directed a few points of mana into his wings and stopped his descent. He had forgotten that small little detail about the inn being located in a tree... not on the ground. He did a well-earned face palm and made his way to the streets below, albeit more slowly. Gitch might very well be the most dangerous threat to his own safety in Fae-thil. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Resolving to put the last hour behind him, he hovered down the street, eyes filled with wonder at the beautiful buildings. The buildings were made of wood, glass, canvas, and/or leaves. A few glittered or shown as if magically altered, which in all likelihood, was probably the case. Most were one story, but a few were two or even three. Brightly colored display signs stood outside of each to identify what lay within.
He passed a crimson building which happened to be listed as a Crafting Hall. Tommy had told him quite a bit about crafting. Not only was it a good way to create or repair your own gear, it was also one of the more lucrative means of income. You could be a tanner, armorer, farmer, or any one of hundreds of different professions.
His brother had even mentioned he had seen a high elf travel agent. His job was to advise players, and even some NPCs, on the best places to see and visit within the game world. Apparently, it was near impossible to schedule a cruise around the Angelic Floating Islands without one. Crazy, but he supposed there was a niche market for their services.
This was a building he would need to visit, but not yet. He knew he would end up spending all day inside, and he had a whole town to explore. Gitch made a mental note to come back later.
Next to the Crafting Hall was a bright orange tent. The canvas sparkled where the sun struck its surface, and Gitch‘s eyes quickly poured over its neon-esque sign. In large lettering was ‘Fizzy‘s Fizzled Fizzes‘, accompanied by a picture of a pint of some green ale underneath. A true tavern! As much as he wanted to enter, it was just way too early in the day. This was definitely a building he would hit up later with Kraz though!
Across from the tent stood a not-so-quiet cemetery. Four purple fairies walked up and down the rows of headstones, singing loudly as they went. The markers themselves varied widely in shape and size. Each mimicked nature in one way or another, be it a leaf, flower, or miniature beast. Regardless of shape, all were the same lavender tone as the four singing fairies.
Gitch couldn’t make out the words of their song, but he was curious enough to find out. He walked up to the cemetery and stood quietly, trying to catch a few phrases or at least their meaning. The tune was upbeat and certainly seemed out of place given what he knew of graveyards. After trying and failing to grasp the song, he walked up to one of the nearby fairies. She gave him a warm smile and beckoned him forward.
“Hey there,” he said as he walked up.
“Howdy do, Brother? Fine morning init?” she asked enthusiastically. For it being so early, she was more chipper than he thought she had any right to be, especially given their present environment.
“I‘m well, thanks. Sorry to bother, but what are you guys doing out here?”
“Ahh, you are new here, aren’t you? No worries, it’s a mighty fine time for a talk. My name‘s Kazi. I‘m a death fairy!”
“A… a what?” he asked concerned. His blood started pumping faster and he began backing away from the strange fairy as quick as he could.
“Hehehe!” She gave a lighthearted laugh. “Not to fret, just my little joke. I don’t actually bring death. Well, I could if the occasion arose, but death fairies typically are not harbingers. Rather, we tend to the departed. That is why we are purple in color. You may notice the headstones are a shade of purple as well? We may be all different shades and variations while alive, but there is a singleness in death. A unity if you will.”
“Oh, then why all the cheeriness? I have never seen a graveyard so… alive. It’s all a bit contradictory.”
“Nah, you are mistaken Brother. Why should the dead be subject to nothing but gloom and boredom? The fairies resting here like to party! AM I RIGHT?” she shouted loudly with arms spread wide. A gust of warm air suddenly picked up around Gitch, and he gave an involuntary shudder. Not in fright, though. He was a manly fairy! If he had to keep repeating it to make it true, so be it. Kazi looked back at him and resumed speaking, albeit much quieter.
“These souls are free of the shackles of life, which can be a boon or detriment to those of us who remain. Many of these spirits have great wisdom to impart on those of us who will listen, but they expect something in return. One of our tasks is to keep them entertained, what with graveyards having a bit thinner walls to the void and all. Fairies are a good sort, but anyone left to fester for hundreds or even thousands of years may go stir crazy. We don’t want these good ghosts to haunt our lovely forest, wouldn’t you agree?” she ended at a near whisper.
Gitch wasn’t complaining. He was no Dean Winchester, and there was no sense in potentially pissing off an army of invisible fairy ghosts. Something else she had said did peak his interest, though.
“Yeah, I get it, thanks for keeping these very nice ghosts happy.” He put a little extra emphasis on the nice bit. It couldn’t hurt to butter up any invisible eavesdroppers. “What did you mean about death fairies being purple?”
“You really are a babe, aren’t you? Well, a trainer could probably explain it better, but a fairy‘s color is more than just for show now init? The mana within you is naturally inclined to a specific branch of magic, which is identified by a specific color. This mana manifests physically, which gives a fairy his or her color. Mana associated with Death Magic is purple by nature, hence, this lovely purple goddess which stands before you!” She finished with a wink and tinkling laugh.
“So, your color determines what magic you can use? That kind of sucks to be honest. Maybe a bit racist, actually.”
“Oh no, not at all! Fairies can learn from all ten branches of magic, but there is one that holds a certain appeal to each of us. I myself know three spells from various other branches aside from death magic. We will tend to lean towards a specific branch if given the choice, and that branch tends to respond more positively than the others. Magic is symbiotic in nature. Was this not covered in your training?”
“Ehh… my training has been more of a learn-as-you-go. All I have learned about fairies came from a gnome hermit. Helpful to be sure, but I pretty much know nothing. What else can you tell me about color magic?”
“A gnome! Well it’s no wonder you’re about as knowledgeable as a rock in the sand! You should really find a better trainer. Tell you what. I will teach you one spell from the purple magic tree. It is one of the first spells novice death fairies learn but often times one of the most valued. It is called Last Rite, and allows you will be able to commune with a recently deceased spirit for up to 60 seconds. Gain enough experience, and you will be able to increase both the duration and number of spirits raised.”
Wow, a new spell? Sure, it wasn’t combat oriented, but he could see it coming in handy. Come to think of it, he was pretty sure he had already seen this spell at work. It sounded very similar to what Wasi had cast after the forest battle, although this sounded much more basic. Wasi, being a death fairy himself, must have had a higher skill rank in the spell.
“Thanks, Kazi! I
am ready to learn the spell,” Gitch said excitedly.
Kazi stretched out her hand, palm facing Gitch. Her hand began to glow with lavender sparks jumping between her spread fingers. Her irises turned a deep purple as she spoke in a calm voice. “When you are ready, place your palm to mine.”
Gitch was hesitant to touch her at all. He didn’t like the thought of being electrocuted by purple lightening. How did the saying go? Great power is only gained through great stupidity? He figured there was really nothing to lose, except his life. Even death was temporary, though he really didn’t fancy respawning all the way back at the glade. The the trek to Fae-thil had already proven treacherous, and there was still much for him to see and do here.
After some more internal justification, he ended up stretching out his own palm. The moment he touched her skin he felt the built-up energy transfer over and course through his veins. It didn’t hurt, but there was a power to it. He didn’t know it, but for as long as they maintained that increasingly awkward high-five, his eyes turned a deep shade of purple, and lavender sparks danced between the strands of golden hair on his own head.
Kazi began chanting as the energy flowing through them began to intensify. Gitch wasn’t hearing the words, so much as feeling them. Each word brought an increased understanding of the spell until, at long last, Kazi finished her chant with a shout. The two were thrown apart, but neither completely fell to the ground. Gitch could feel the difference inside him and knew instinctively that he could cast the spell at will. The last few sparks were dying off between his fingertips, and he saw Kazi walking toward him with a smile on her face.
Congratulations! You have learned the spell: Last Rite
With enough mana, you may summon a recently deceased spirit back to this plane for a short time. The longer a spirit has been separated from this plane, the more difficult it will be to summon. Be warned, not all spirits return wholly intact.
Cast Time: 10 seconds
Manifest Page 22
