Edwyr dragged his eyes back to the Elder, taking in her small frame, her wrinkled face, her short, silver hair, and her simple clothes, made of fur, which had always been odd to Edwyr given the hot weather. And yet, the woman’s presence was somehow intimidating. Edwyr was assuming that it was the way her face always tended to stay neutral, but not in the way the Councilors did it. Edwyr wasn’t sure what exactly made him think that, but he knew that when Dagma looked like that, it didn’t make him angry. Instead, he felt unsure and somewhat uncomfortable.
“My dear protectors,” the Elder said in her usual raspy voice, no hint of irony in her tone, though Edwyr suspected it was there anyway. “What is the matter?”
“We wanted to ask if it would be a problem if we left for a few days,” Arbane replied quickly, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t look happy about explaining this, but Edwyr was still glad he didn’t have to be the one to introduce the issue. He was willing to take over immediately, however, seeing as he was the entire reason they were considering leaving in the first place.
He was already putting together what he might say and how he might say it, trying to make the reasoning as convincing as possible despite his relative unwillingness to help Feyrith. But then the Elder completely shocked him with her response.
“Yes, I don’t see why not.”
He’d not expected this to be so easy, let alone so quick.
Lanna took a step forward, her index finger raised. “When my husband says a few days, he actually means around a week,” she added, a grimace on her face, though there was still surprise in her eyes.
The Elder gave a nod, her expression unchanged. “I’ll make sure to tell our best fighters to be ready, just in case.”
Edwyr still had trouble accepting that this had been so easy. Even as they thanked her and left the house again, he still felt dazed. He’d been so prepared to argue his point, and now that there had been no reason for it, he felt very odd about the entire situation.
“Glad that’s over with,” Arbane said, looking much more at ease now that they were outside and walking away from the Elder’s house. “Let’s go, then.”
Edwyr felt like he wanted to argue, but he had nothing to say. Now that nothing stood in his way, he felt like he’d been defeated somehow, as ridiculous as that seemed.
Edwyr shook his head. None of this mattered. He should be focusing on what was important right now, which was packing supplies, so he would be able to avoid spending his hard-earned coin as much as possible.
“We’ll get our squawkers and meet you at your house, all right?” asked Lanna, to which Edwyr nodded. She must have figured out he had yet to do a few things before leaving, but that wasn’t difficult since he didn’t even have his bow with him.
He walked back to his house, completely immersed in his thoughts, but at least now he was managing to think about something useful. Namely, what to bring with him. He didn’t have too much food on hand, since he had been planning to buy some more meat and bread before Feyrith had walked into Sunwood and ruined Edwyr’s routine.
Edwyr supposed he still had some dried meat and a few vegetables somewhere, so that would have to do for now. At least he didn’t have to bring anything for Tempest, as long as he gave her enough time to graze. She would likely still be annoyed with him for dragging her so far and for so long without bringing her treats, though.
He settled on giving her another carrot before leaving, which was gone in an instant, but Tempest looked pleased, at least. Edwyr sighed as he slung his bow over his shoulder along with his quiver and satchel before locking the door. It was such an odd habit now, but he couldn’t help but do it. He doubted anyone would steal from him—at least not anyone who wouldn’t desperately need it—and yet he locked the door every time, despite locks not being a normal, common thing he’d grown up with.
He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he wasn’t interested in thinking about it.
Edwyr spent a moment simply stroking Tempest’s forehead as he waited for his friends to arrive. They showed up very quickly, though, riding in with their squawkers, named Stomper, and Aggra. Stomper was fairly self-explanatory, as Lanna’s squawker tended to stomp his hind feet at seemingly random times. However, Edwyr wasn’t sure why Arbane had chosen the name Aggra. And now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d asked him.
“Ready?”
Edwyr shrugged. He was ready to leave in the sense that he’d packed everything, but he wasn’t sure he was ready mentally and emotionally. Neither of that mattered, though. They needed to catch up with Feyrith somehow, and that would be no easy task. But Edwyr would be happy if they managed to do so before the elf got himself into some kind of trouble he wouldn’t know how to get out of.
And so they set out, climbing onto the backs of their squawkers and trotting out of town, using the well-worn path that connected practically all of the houses on the edge of Sunwood. As they left through the tall gate in the middle of the tall, stone-and-wood wall protecting the city, Edwyr couldn’t help but feel strange about leaving.
Sure, he’d left plenty of times to hunt for beasts threatening Sunwood, but this felt different. Not since his exile had he ever gone so far before, and unlike then, now there was worry in his heart. As if some part of him was expecting never to return. But he pushed that feeling away.
“So, which way are we going to choose?” Arbane asked once they reached the main road and directed their squawkers so they were all running next to each other. They took up most of the road like this, but there were so few travelers using these roads in general that no one was likely to mind.
“What do you mean?” Edwyr asked before thinking the question through, his eyes widening as he immediately realized what Arbane was implying. He scowled at Arbane, who was on his left, shaking his head at the human. “We are not going through the jungle.”
Arbane shrugged, grimacing. “It would save time, though.”
“Or it could ensure our deaths.”
Despite saying that, Edwyr couldn’t help but begrudgingly and silently admit to himself that Arbane wasn’t wrong. But it was still a terrible idea. Perhaps if Edwyr was here alone he might have attempted to cross the jungle, but not with Arbane and Lanna. He would never forgive himself if they got hurt on this quest.
“Hey, we managed to kill a scalewing yesterday,” Arbane argued back, though it sounded halfhearted at this point. That was the only reason Edwyr simply sighed and didn’t bother pointing out that Arbane might have spent the next few days with an injured leg if not for Feyrith healing him.
Edwyr immediately felt a hint of jealousy and anger fill him and promptly forced himself to calm down.
“Well, I suppose we’ll see how far behind Feyrith we are when we get to Everward and ask the locals,” Lanna added, looking at the map she had, held over her saddle. Then she looked at Edwyr, curiosity on her face. “You know, I never really thought about it, but I think he introduced himself to us with three names. You said you don’t have family names. Or anything.”
In general, Edwyr had not bothered sharing anything about his people unless his friends asked directly, but this detail had been one he’d specifically avoided. Still, he supposed there would be no harm in explaining it. They were hardly going to mock him for it, anyway, so what was there to lose, even if it would be uncomfortable for him?
“We don’t. He has three names because he belongs to the Third Circle of Magic. I only have one because I…never could progress further than the First.”
It felt embarrassing to admit that, even though he had no real reason for it. No one stayed in the First Circle, as that was simply a term for the uninitiated. In other words, it was for children who had yet to have their magic fully manifest. Either an elf would progress to the Second Circle, or they would turn out to be Cursed and removed from the elven society, thus not belonging to any Circle anymore. But that was hardly his fault.
His single name solidified his horribly unfair reality, and th
ough he wore it without shame, it was upsetting to think about the reason why he only had one.
“Well, that’s…strange,” Lanna said, giving Edwyr another one of her sympathetic glances. “How many Circles are there, again?”
“Six. The Sixth are the Councilors.”
Arbane scoffed. “So they all have six names? How does anyone remember that? I can barely remember two.”
Edwyr chuckled to himself at that. He was sure that the Council members would be very offended to hear a human disregard their traditions so easily. Not that Arbane didn’t have a point. The names were mostly symbolic of an elf’s stature and rank rather than a personal thing. Edwyr had never spoken with a Councilor, but he was certain they all referred to each other by their first name only. The members of the other Circles definitely did it that way.
“And to become a Councilor you have to…what?”
Edwyr looked Lanna in the eye for a moment, trying to read the look in her eyes. She almost seemed irritated. Or perhaps even angry, but in a very subtle way he would miss if he hadn’t known her for so long. “The Councilors are the most powerful magic users.”
Lanna and Arbane exchanged a look again. Edwyr scowled. He certainly didn’t appreciate it when they did that. It made him feel like they were talking about him and leaving him out of the conversation. Since when had the two of them gotten so good at nonverbal communication, anyway? Had they been doing that all along, and he’d just never noticed?
“So you’re led by the most powerful people?” Arbane shook his head as Edwyr frowned. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting Arbane to say, but this was not it. “That sounds problematic.”
“Humans don’t even have a true leader.” Edwyr immediately felt guilty and stupid for saying that. It had been a kneejerk reaction, and he wasn’t even sure where it had come from. What did he care about what Lanna and Arbane thought about his former people and nation? They had thrown him out—if anything he should be joining his friends and pointing out every single shortcoming of the elven society.
And he did, quite often in fact. But when he heard someone else—a human at that—say the same, it seemed to trigger some kind of instinct in him.
“And everything works fine, anyway,” Arbane shot back, looking a little offended. As he should. Edwyr lowered his gaze, staring down at Tempest’s saddle. The last thing he wanted was to upset him or Lanna, and especially now since they were coming with him only to support him on this endeavor.
Edwyr looked up, taking in the road ahead in the distance, which curved around the thick wall of trees forming the edges of the jungle. Without even thinking about it he made Tempest speed up, bringing her to a gallop, with Lanna and Arbane quickly following suit. The sounds of their squawkers’ feet beating against the ground drowned out some of the noise in Edwyr’s mind, but not the tense atmosphere that was now surrounding them.
Edwyr sighed quietly. This trip was already off to a rather bad start. He hoped it wouldn’t get worse. But one look at his friends reassured him. They didn’t seem annoyed with him—if anything they looked determined to see their mission through. And so was he.
6
Feyrith still couldn’t tell if his presence in Everward was welcomed or distrusted. He’d offered to help with smaller, quickly solvable problems, but he knew the humans would have appreciated more if he’d stayed, and some had definitely grumbled something about him. But unfortunately, he couldn’t stay. He had a mission to complete, and after his experience in the jungle, he now knew fully well that he wouldn’t be trying to cross it anytime soon if he could avoid it.
It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to be here for longer, of course. He quite enjoyed seeing foreign creatures and landscapes—especially the wild herds of quasir which he’d seen a few times, roaming the fields and grazing—but it would be for the best to verify whether the magical energies in the ruin were dangerous or not as quickly as possible. The Council hadn’t given him a time limit, but they hadn’t needed to. Feyrith understood that this mission was time-sensitive, and the sooner it was dealt with the better.
Then again, their most important mission, and their constant priority, was to help the humans, which made this very conflicting. But ultimately leaving this threat unattended might potentially be more dangerous to humans than their current problems. Feyrith would do his best to help on his way back, assuming he wouldn’t be immediately recalled to Aendor, but that was unlikely. He had no important research or duties that couldn’t be put off for a few days.
Though even now he thought he’d rather stay and help these people than go back. At least for a while. He’d never been encouraged to do so, which he assumed was because the Council didn’t find him experienced enough to go here. But, while he would hate to overestimate his abilities, he was confident that he was powerful enough to make a difference without it being too risky.
The constant use of his magic was exhausting, definitely, but he knew that would get better with each spell he cast. He hadn’t had much opportunity to practice healing spells for example, which were the most obvious drain, but it was only a matter of practice. And he wouldn’t get much opportunity to practice on Aendor, where all injuries were treated by elves who had studied healing magic for decades. All he’d had to heal back there were his own papercuts from paging through books far too eagerly.
He was enjoying being here so far, though, which was a welcome surprise. He was still nervous, of course, but he was sure that would wear off in time. He’d never felt at ease in new places. But he was also constantly torn between that, and his fascination with everything around him. Frankly, it was difficult to keep himself from not stopping every time he so much as saw humans and listening to them talking about their everyday lives.
It was all just so different from everything he’d ever known, and it was intensely fascinating. Feyrith would have to make sure he didn’t get too carried away. Which would be easier if reaching his destination wouldn’t still take days.
His quasir let out a short caw as if it could tell what Feyrith was thinking and was taking it as a criticism. Feyrith ran a hand over the beast’s feathers, quickly realizing what the actual problem was when he saw lightning appear over the dark gray sky, towards the horizon.
He frowned at the rolling clouds, which seemed to become darker and darker right before his eyes. It was likely going to rain, then, which wasn’t good. He’d only been traveling for a couple of hours now, and he would have to stop once again it seemed. And there was no village around to wait out the storm in.
Feyrith knew some shield spells he could use against the rain, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep those going for a significant amount of time. Despite his best efforts, these spells always tired him out very quickly because shield spells were some of the most taxing non-offensive magic there was.
As thunder continued rumbling in the distance Feyrith looked around, trying to spot anything that could be used as shelter. There was a large field of very tall grass on his left, stretching to the distance all the way to the jungle. Those strangely tall trees would offer protection, but Feyrith wasn’t very thrilled at the idea of going back there.
On his right, though, mountains blocked off the view of the ocean. Of course, he couldn’t go so far as to climb them, but perhaps the creased, stone wall in the relatively close distance might offer a cave to hide in. And a little farther away there seemed to be a large cluster of trees as well. Feyrith would likely not make it there before it started to rain, but it would protect both him and the quasir.
He pushed his mount to run faster, steering it off the road and onto the grass as the first drops of water began to fall. It wasn’t too bad at first, but within a few moments the rain became heavy enough that Feyrith had to keep a hand over his eyes so he could see anything at all.
Deciding that he wouldn’t be able to see through the rain well enough to notice if there was an opening within the rock wall, Feyrith focused his efforts on the cluster of trees, pus
hing the quasir to run even faster. It didn’t protest at all, clearly also eager to get away from the rain.
The quasir reached the trees just as the rain was becoming so thick Feyrith could barely see in front of himself. Feyrith grimaced as he immediately realized that his robes were soaking wet. He shuddered as a gust of wind hit him, climbing off the quasir’s back. The air had gotten colder, but it was tolerable. Or it would be if not for how wet he was. He would have to start a fire if he was to dry off.
Feyrith peeled his robes off and shuddered as he realized how wet his tunic and pants were as well. It was still much better than his robes, though. He would have to undo his braids for his hair to dry, too, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. It was always so much work to tie them back again properly. Although there was no other elf here to tell him that his unbraided hair was improper….
He left the quasir where it was standing under a tree, shaking its feathers to get the water out. After carefully taking off his staff and satchel, Feyrith put his wet robes over a branch before setting out to gather some sticks and dry leaves that were on the ground. Some were unfortunately far too fresh to burn well, but Feyrith managed to gather enough of the dry ones to last for a while, hopefully.
Despite how uncomfortable he was in his wet clothes, Feyrith couldn’t help but feel enthusiastic about this. He’d never actually tried making a campfire. It was strangely exciting. He would just have to make sure to be careful with his fire magic, so as not to set this entire place on fire.
He carried the wood back to where the quasir was now relaxing, its hind legs stretched out. Feyrith quickly arranged the sticks and leaves into what he hoped was an effective shape before putting his hand over it and muttering a weak fire spell. The kindling burst into flames immediately, the sound of crackling wood barely audible over the still very loud rainfall. But its effect was felt immediately.
The Circles of Magic Page 6
