by Jeff Wilcox
Caineye chewed his lip for a moment, widening the tear in Astra’s clothing to inspect the damage. “I think so. It’s mostly healed now, thanks to those potions you had. I’ll have to remember to stock up on those when it’s safe to do so. Can you carry her?”
In response, Kaiyr gently lifted the unconscious Astra in his arms. He glanced up at the alley walls, as well as up and down the cobblestone passage, seeking danger. When none presented itself, he nodded to Caineye. “Very well. Let us go. What about Vinto and Master Wild?”
Putting his fingers to his lips, Caineye let out a shrill whistle that carried far and echoed loudly in the alley. He waited only a few moments before Vinto reappeared around the corner at the far end, where the pair had chased off the thugs. The wolf had picked up Wild by the seat of his pants and was now carefully trotting toward them. Wild had a few choice words to say about this, but Kaiyr ignored the halfling’s complaints and started down the alley and toward a busier street. “Enough, Master Wild. We do not have the time to chase those men. Our priority is to get to safety and then find passage away from this place. I shall stand vigilant by her side upon our return.”
The others nodded, and Vinto put Wild down. With Astra in his arms, Kaiyr swiftly led the way back to the relative safety of the inn.
XII.
“So, wait,” Matt said, scratching his chin. “I’m a little confused. How did Astra, the one who broke us out of jail and fought all those other people practically by herself, get taken down by a single crossbow bolt? A dee-ten is not enough to take out someone of her level. I mean, if she’s a nymph, she’s already got at least thirty hit points or so. Even on a crit, it wouldn’t be enough to knock her out.”
I grinned and answered in defense of Dingo. “It’s just a plot event. I do it all the time. The big, strong ally gets offed by someone the characters eventually defeat.”
Dino nodded his agreement.
“Fair enough,” Matt said.
“So,” Dingo said, “what are you guys doing now?”
I spoke first. “I’m going to stand watch over Astra while she recovers,” I said. “You two can take it easy, since I don’t sleep. I only wish we had a way of communicating, in case anyone else shows up to kill us.”
“I’ll lock the door and windows,” Matt offered. “I’ve got some supplies, plus a couple strong locks.”
“I’m going to go buy a bunch of potions of cure light wounds,” Xavier said, flipping his character sheet over to the inventory page. “I’ll leave Vinto with Kaiyr for extra protection, with the command to guard Astra. Jeff, do you need anything while I’m out?”
“Who’s Jeff?” I asked, grinning.
He just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Fine. Kaiyr… Master Kaiyr, do you need anything while I’m out?”
“Actually, yes,” I said in my deeper Kaiyr-voice. “I shall need those potions replaced, and I am afraid I have Lady Astra’s blood on my robes. Take this.” I extended one arm in a gesture of giving. “I hand you three hundred and fifty gold, which is pretty much all I have left.”
“We just got gold, don’t forget,” Matt reminded me.
“Right. But we haven’t divvied that out yet. So, I give you that gold with the instructions to buy three cure lights, a bolt of blue silk, a bolt of white silk, and a half-bolt of tough, black silk for my new robes.”
“Kaiyr the seamstress,” Dingo commented with a snort, drawing chuckles from the other two. I gave them all my best mock-angry glare.
“Dingo,” Matt said, “You know he does this because nobody else will sew his dresses for him.” He shot me a mischievous grin, and we all laughed again. I’m pretty sure I chucked a d20 at him at some point; dice often flew around the room when we were playing.
After a few minutes’ more worth of banter, Dingo steered us toward the game again. “All right, so Caineye heads out to go shopping. Wild?”
“Ah, I’ll go with him,” Matt said. “I need to buy a few more things, too. Oh, and should I book us a flight out of here?” He looked at me.
I pursed my lips, thinking. “Not yet, I don’t think. I don’t want to bring Astra as luggage. Besides, she’s probably safer even here, rather than on an airship. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea for the two of you to ditch your usual clothes and go in disguise.”
*
Wild turned around and flipped open a wooden box replete with jars of skin foundation of all colors, false hair and teeth, and numerous other supplies for disguise. When he faced Kaiyr again, he wore a pair of lens-less, thick-rimmed, black glasses with an obviously false, pudgy nose and a wiry, black beard attached to them. “You mean like zees?” he asked in an exaggerated accent. When Kaiyr just stared at him, the halfling chuckled to himself and took the glasses off. Caineye offered an accompanying laugh. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Give me a few minutes, and you won’t recognize me or Caineye.”
Wild spent the next twenty minutes working on himself and Caineye. Both of them removed their armor to aid their disguise; none of them had removed their gear since arriving here. With a pair of wigs and some minor facial adjustments, the pair was ready to go. At Wild’s directive, they slipped from the room with a final wink at Kaiyr, locking the door behind them.
When they left, Vinto let out a seemingly exasperated sigh and put his head down on his paws, closing his eyes. His furry ears twitched at the same noises that Kaiyr’s ears did.
Astra lay in the bed Kaiyr had rented for himself, her skin pale and clammy but her breathing slow and rhythmic. A bowl of pink water rested on the bedside stand; Caineye and Kaiyr had gently set about cleaning up as much of the nymph’s blood as they could. Kaiyr had apologetically given the innkeeper several extra gold to buy new sheets.
The blademaster knelt on both knees with his back to the bed, his eyes lightly closed in meditation. His expression did not stay serene, however, his brow slowly furrowing into a frown of intense thought.
Kaiyr replayed in his mind the few moments before Astra had taken the bolt meant for him. No matter how he looked at it, he knew he would have died had it not been for her uncharacteristically self-sacrificing action. Even with his new armor, a heavy metal bolt fired from the large crossbows the men wielded would have blown right through his armor and buried itself deep in his heart. It would have been a quick death, at least, but that thought was not comforting.
He could not believe that he had failed to notice the men at the end of the alley, and Kaiyr berated himself for letting his guard down. I am yet a failure, Father, he thought to himself. I was right; you should not have sent me into the world yet. I am not yet worthy of the title of Blademaster.
He should have sensed the attack, like he had seen his father do on so many occasions, sparring while blindfolded to display just how sharply one’s warrior senses could be honed. Kaiyr’s instinct was not as acute, and he cursed himself for it, because every time he watched the scene unfold again in his thoughts, he changed it slightly, inserting the barest of reactions he could have—should have—made that would have kept them both out of harm’s way.
Half an hour later, sounds of Astra stirring roused Kaiyr from his restless reverie. He heard her open her mouth to say something, but her throat was too parched to make any noise.
“Lady Astra,” Kaiyr breathed, rising and standing over her. She motioned weakly with one arm, and though the motion held no meaning, it was obvious what she needed. Kaiyr picked up a mug of water he had set there earlier for just such an occasion. “Please, my lady, do not sit up by yourself. I know not how extensive the damage is.” He helped her into an elevated position so she could drink, propping several pillows behind her to keep her upright. Silently, he aided her in drinking the water, guiding the mug in her shaking hands.
Astra drank slowly. “Thanks,” she croaked when she was done, letting him take the mug away. Vinto rose and sat down by the nymph, licking her hand. “Hey, there,” she said, scratching his ear in response.
“No,” the elf replied in an
anguished tone as he returned to her side, “it is I who should be thankful, Lady Astra. You saved my life nearly at the cost of your own. And so my life is yours.” He knelt on the floor before her and bowed so low that his forehead touched the floor. “Please accept it in recompense for your sacrifice.”
She waved her hand, this time with a little more vigor. “Oh, stop it. You’ll make me blush.” Despite her jovial tone, her voice quavered and cracked. Kaiyr did not move. Vinto looked up at her and let out a growling bark. Astra let out a sigh, wincing. “All right, all right. I get it. You owe me your life. It’s mine. Whatever. Stop licking the floor; it’s dirty.”
Kaiyr lifted his head. “My lady, I was not….” His voice trailed off when he saw her amused smile. “I understand, my lady.”
“You’re so predictable it’s cute.” Astra smiled and glanced around the room. “Where’d Wild and Caineye go?”
“They are out purchasing supplies. We used all of our healing potions to keep you alive, my lady.”
“You might want new clothes, too,” she replied, nodding at the bloodstain running down the elf’s robes. “I think you’ve got some of me on you.”
Kaiyr’s lips turned up into a ghost of a smile. “I know, my lady. Master Caineye will return with cloth, that I may sew a new set.” She reached for the water, and he rose and returned it to her fingers, making sure she could hold onto it by herself before letting go. “We should leave Is’thvern as soon as possible, Lady Astra. As soon as you feel capable, we will take the first airship away from here.”
With a grimace, Astra tugged at the pillow under her back. Kaiyr stopped her from straining herself and eased her back down onto the bed, tossing the extra pillows aside. She lay back with a relieved sigh and closed her eyes, not saying anything.
Giving her a concerned look, Kaiyr calmed himself when he saw her breathing return to its former, steady rhythm. Once more, he settled on the floor, now next to Vinto, on whose head Astra’s hand lay limply. Just as the elf closed his eyes, Astra spoke again. “Kaiyr, keep me awake. I don’t want to go back to sleep yet. Tell me about your home. Why did you leave?”
Kaiyr turned around again to face her, rising only long enough to settle on the edge of the bed, where he could more easily converse with her. He sat for several long moments, unused to being asked about his origins. “There is precious little to tell,” he said slowly, staring at the wall opposite him. “I come from a small, elven village in the far northeast reaches of Vintiens. It is so small that one could not find it on any map that did not originate from my home.”
“What’s it called? What’s it like?” Astra tiredly settled her hands over her belly, eyes still closed, and listened to the elf’s words.
“We call it Ivyan,” Kaiyr replied. “My people, we live in the boughs of the trees in small, wooden houses connected by rope bridges. There are perhaps four hundred of us living there. We have numerous, small patches of fertile ground that get enough sun for us to cultivate berries and grain, and the older children are tasked with tending such gardens.” His voice took on a faraway quality, as though he were not there in the room with Astra; and indeed, his mind, at least, was not. He let his thoughts soar several thousand miles to the north and east, to the home he had left behind nearly a year ago.
“In the morning, the sun’s light filters through the trees, lighting the village in a gentle, green glow that rouses us from our nightly reverie. Our lives trickle gently about the village like a meandering stream. I rise earlier than the others, and my father and I train for two hours before the morning meal. Afterward, Mother composes her songs higher in the branches of the trees, and her music settles over the village. On quiet days, she plays soothing melodies, and when there is work to be done, she invigorates us with rousing tunes.
“I spend much of my time practicing with my father, Blademaster Sorosomir Stellarovim,” Kaiyr went on. Astra lay with her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open as she imagined the places and activities her companion described. “I still cannot compare to him as a blademaster. He sees and hears everything which I miss, always knows exactly the moves I will make while we spar, even before I make them. I have seen him strike deep into the hard carapaces and scales of many beasts which my spirit cannot penetrate in the least.” His hands balled up into fists on his robes.
After a breath, Astra inhaled and told him quietly, “Don’t be angry with yourself, Kaiyr.”
“I am not angry,” he lied, too quickly. He knew she saw through him, and he let out a sigh. “I am deeply disappointed in myself for my failure as a blademaster, Lady Astra.”
The nymph snorted, then winced at the pain the motion caused in her side. “Ow. Kaiyr, you’re not a failure just because you didn’t notice a couple thugs who were taking pains not to be seen at the end of a dark, narrow alley. If you think this is your fault alone, then why didn’t Caineye or Wild see them? I don’t see the two of them beating themselves up over it. Don’t call it a blizzard just because one snowflake has fallen.”
Kaiyr’s expression softened, and he nodded his accord. “I understand, Lady Astra. However, for a blademaster, a single failure could mean the deaths of those he is sworn to protect—in this case, yourself, Lady Astra. I—”
“Could you stop with this ‘Lady Astra’ and ‘my lady’ business, kiddo?” she interrupted him exasperatedly, throwing her arms up into the air limply.
The elf looked at Vinto, who seemed to be grinning at him, and replied, “No, Lady Astra, I cannot. It would be rude. By the same token, I could ask you to discontinue referring to myself and my companions as ‘kids’ and ‘kiddo,’ and you would give me much the same reply.”
She muttered something incoherent and let out a sigh. Then, after a few moments, she turned back to their conversation: “So, what made you leave your little town? The lure of adventure?”
Kaiyr offered her a smile. “No. Rare is the blademaster who is overcome with wanderlust. My purpose is twofold: to recover the Helm of Ministriel, a relic stolen from my village a year past, and to complete my training as a blademaster. The purposes are one and the same, truly; I become a blademaster when I return to Ivyan with the Helm in my hand.”
Astra frowned. “Ministriel, you say? Old artifact, kind of a rustred color?”
“Yes, it is a piece of a set,” Kaiyr replied, nodding. “Is something the matter?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “but I heard rumors of some treasure hunters trying to steal a couple of similar-sounding items from a small town about a week’s ride north of here, a little place called Andorra. You might look for answers there.”
The patter of feet outside the door broke their conversation, and Kaiyr tensed as the lock clicked and the door opened. Wild stuck his head inside, and Caineye appeared a moment later, towering over the halfling. “Guys!” Wild exclaimed, a wolfish grin on his face. “You’ll never guess what we heard while we were at market. Master Kaiyr, remember that dragon from last week? We found it! We found it! Someone coming in from the docks said he’d fled the place when it showed up!” He verily leaped into the room when Caineye prodded him from behind. “Oh, hey, Astra. Good to see you alive.”
“Heh, thanks,” was all for which she still had energy.
Caineye followed him in, set the cloth he had bought on a chair, and handed Kaiyr three potions of cure light wounds. The elf thanked the druid and tucked the magical trinkets away in his sleeves. “What place might this be?” Kaiyr asked, brushing a lock of his blue hair out of his face.
Caineye answered for Wild. “It’s a small elven town to the north, maybe a week’s ride away, if we take a slow airship or ride on horseback. It’s called Andorra.”
Astra mustered enough energy to lift her head, and she and Kaiyr exchanged incredulous glances. “Well,” the blademaster said, indicating she should lie back down, “I suppose we know whither we shall next be headed.”
Kaiyr remained with Astra while she slept for several more hours. She had claimed to be ab
le to walk to the docks with them after some more rest. Caineye, Vinto, and Wild headed down to the common room for dinner. Caineye brought Kaiyr a meal before beginning his own, and the blademaster was thankful for the sustenance.
When the nymph awoke, she already looked to be in much better condition, thanks to the combined power of Caineye’s healing magic and Kaiyr’s potions. Under the cover of the evening shadows and the populace that was still out and about, they managed to make it to the docks without further incident, and once there, they quietly booked rooms aboard a large airship heading to Is’den that was going to stop in Andorra along the way.
*
“So, you guys have a week’s journey ahead of you,” Dingo told us as we all blew sighs at having made it out of Is’thvern in one piece, and with Astra, no less. “What are your plans for the time you’ll be in flight? Kaiyr?”
“I’m going to be sewing my new robes, ones that’ll actually be slightly magical and give me a couple minor bonuses,” I said. “The process will take most of the week, but I’ll still have twelve hours a day I don’t have to spend making them or sleeping.”
Matt nodded toward me. “Make sure you make that dress nice and pretty, now.”
I chuckled and stuck out my tongue at him. “Maybe I’ll have enough cloth left to make you a matching set, half-a-man,” I shot back, using an in-game insult often used against halflings and the other shorter races of D&D. “I’ll see if I can find some lace and frills for yours. And you,” I went on, rounding on Xavier when I heard him chuckle at Wild’s joke, “you’d better enjoy yourself. I might like a new fur shawl after I’m done with my dress.”
