The Companions of Tartiël

by Jeff Wilcox

  Pursing his lips, Kaiyr shook his head. “No. I know only that it is vile. Master Wild thought it merely a trinket belonging to one of our vanquished enemies, and he took it for himself.”

  Swallowing shakily, the cleric nodded his accord. “And then it worked its way into his mind, making him commit terrible sins against the world. The only way to separate it from him was to remove the hand that did the deeds.”

  “Yes.”

  “It is called a Terth-blade, or simply a Terth by those who carry them. To the uninitiated, such artifacts are insidious in twisting victims to their ways. And, in the hands of those for whom they are crafted, they can be dangerous weapons. You say this was taken from an enemy? You and your friends must be mighty, indeed, if you defeated a foe wielding a Terth.”

  Still holding Sayel’s Terth-blade, Kaiyr accepted the praise with a humble bow of his head. “I make no claim to power; it was only through intense cooperation that we defeated one who called herself Sayel, some terrible fallen angel whose master, she claims, is soon to appear before mortals.” A thought struck the blademaster suddenly, and he glanced to the side before looking back at Altaïr. “Claimed,” he corrected himself, eliciting a chuckle from the cleric.

  “I have not heard of any malign beings making preparations to enter the Material Plane,” Altaïr said. “I shall be patient and trust in Arvanos to warn us of any such danger.”

  “And I shall fight against this invasion, should it happen,” Kaiyr agreed. “For now, however, I wish to know if you and your clergymen are capable of destroying this thing. I have been carrying it around with me for longer than I care to. Even without touching it, I can feel its tendrils struggling to find a way past my mental and spiritual defenses.”

  With a sigh, Altaïr reluctantly held out his hand. “Fold it back up, and we shall destroy it within the hour. Fortunately, despite the difficulty with which Terth-blades are made, they are simple to unmake.”

  Kaiyr folded the cloth back around the Terth-blade and handed it to the other robed elf, who took it and carefully held it before him, not daring to tuck it away in case the dangerous ring came loose. “What was the other matter you wished to discuss?”

  The blademaster’s visage darkened, and Altaïr could read the hurt in Kaiyr’s eyes despite decades of training to mask and compartmentalize emotions. “Is something the matter?” the cleric asked when Kaiyr did not reply for several breaths.

  Snorting lightly, Kaiyr shook his head. “The world has not been kind to me and my companions. I… We recently lost a very close friend and ally for the cause of good. It was, in fact, during the battle with this Sayel that she was killed.” He paused to grind his teeth together so they wouldn’t chatter and to give him a moment to stabilize his wavering voice. “I wish to commune with our Father and entreat him to return her soul to her body in renewed life.”

  Altaïr’s expression softened, and he would have touched the blademaster’s shoulder again if his hands weren’t full. “Someone you cared for,” he reasoned. “Young blademaster, meddling in the affairs of life and death is not something to be undertaken lightly. Some things are meant to be, and some are meant to not be.”

  Kaiyr’s head fell with the weight he felt on his shoulders. “I know, Father Altaïr. But… her work in this world is not yet finished. I… She may have knowledge of Sayel’s allies, stronghold, and perhaps even this mysterious ‘master’ coming to our world.”

  Silence followed the blademaster’s words as Altaïr searched Kaiyr’s face for several minutes. At last, he spoke: “You must understand…. It is not often that we entertain such requests; most of them are frivolous in nature. But I sense that your need is great, and your motives true. Return tomorrow, and we shall call upon Father Arvanos for answers. He will require of you a great offering.”

  “I am prepared.”

  Altaïr nodded. “Then, I shall meet with you on the morrow before noon. For now, I have matters to which I must attend. I and the rest of the clergy must prepare for this ceremony.”

  Kaiyr bowed as Altaïr turned toward the altar, still gingerly clutching the Terth-blade. As the blademaster turned to go, he paused. “Oh, Father Altaïr,” he said. The cleric stopped, and Kaiyr gave his new amulet the silent, mental command to activate it. He had been fooled once too often by those whose intentions seemed benevolent, and he was not willing to take another such risk. The two stared at each other for a few moments, until the cleric raised an eyebrow. Kaiyr shook his head. “You have my deepest gratitude,” he said with another bow.

  No, Kaiyr thought to himself as he emerged from the temple and breezed past Caineye’s and Wild’s questioning stares, Father Altaïr is not evil in the least. Thank Arvanos.

  XXX.

  “Lady Solaria,” Kaiyr said, startling the nymph.

  After arriving back at the inn, Wild had dashed off to explore Ik’durel, with promises to return with news of any great markets he discovered along the way. The blademaster had made as if to return to his ruminations on the balcony but paused with his hand on the door handle.

  Solaria shrank behind Caineye, peering warily around the much taller man’s arm. “Y-yes?”

  Letting out a small sigh but stopping himself before it became audible, Kaiyr replied in a gentler tone, “Might I have a few minutes of your time, my lady? I… wish to share a word with you—many words, in fact, some of which I should have said days ago.”

  She peered up at Caineye, who raised an eyebrow at both of them. Then the druid nodded slowly, reassuringly, at the woman. “All right,” she said at length, still uncertain but willing to trust Caineye’s judgment.

  Kaiyr looked relieved and walked back from the balcony to the suite’s main door. To her credit, Solaria did not retreat from his presence. “Thank you, Lady Solaria. Would you care to join me for a walk while we speak? I, for one, could use some more air.”

  Again, she looked to Caineye for an answer. Not letting his exasperation show, the druid nodded again, and the nymph nervously joined the blademaster. “I, yes.”

  Opening the door for her, Kaiyr bowed as she went ahead of him. As he left, he sent Caineye a grateful look. Outside, the streets of Ik’durel were alive with the millions of souls who made the sky-city their home. The city had no large peasant class in evidence, since Ik’durel’s agricultural fields were located on the ground below, so all those moving about were of the bourgeoisie, strolling along the sidewalks, window-shopping, clattering along in carriages, making business exchanges, and generally being a busy, productive people.

  Silence reigned between them as Kaiyr let Solaria become accustomed to his presence, instead focusing on the architecture of Ik’durel. Originally founded by elves but home to all kinds of races, from its original designers to humans and orcs, centaurs, ogre-mages, and even the rare lammasu, Ik’durel was rife with evidence of its varied inhabitants and long history. Somehow, everything seemed to fit together, with buildings both ancient and new lining the streets, built to suit the tastes of whoever owned them. And despite the urban setting, nature yet had a foothold here, with every street lined with trees and immense parks and fields interspersed every few blocks.

  Kaiyr spoke again after perhaps a half-hour of strolling down the street from the inn, as the two of them passed a street vendor who was selling pheasant marinated in a dark sauce. “I realize I have been neither fair nor kind to you, Lady Solaria,” he began quietly, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the city street’s din. She gave him her rapt attention, mainly because she still did not trust the elven blademaster, who continued talking.

  “In doing so, I have dishonored myself by disrespecting you and failing to offer you my trust and protection. For this, I can only apologize and attempt to make restitution.” His gaze dropped to the ground, and with difficulty he slowly raised it to her face.

  “Why?” she asked quietly.

  The blademaster exhaled through his nose, pursing his lips. “I have been unfair to you, and I wish to amend
that mistake, my lady.”

  “Why?”

  “It is the right thing to do.”

  *

  “It is the right thing to do,” I said in my deep Kaiyr voice.

  “Why?” Dingo repeated, a grin spreading on his face, a grin I hadn’t noticed due to my focus on what I was saying.

  I glanced up and chuckled. “Fuck you, sir. Fuck you.” Reaching out, I slapped the air as though his cheek were there. He recoiled, turning his head as though I had hit him square on, and massaged his jaw.

  “Nice shot.”

  “Deserved,” Matt and Xavier agreed.

  *

  Solaria stared at Kaiyr for a moment longer, still unsure. She had known the blademaster for just over two weeks, and she had only known him to be stern, unforgiving, and extremely taciturn. He had barely spoken more than three words a day to her and had seldom remained long in any room she occupied.

  Certainly, she understood that somehow she had displeased him, and she feared whatever wrath might be forthcoming from those cold, dark eyes that roiled with the anger of the seas and flashed with scything moonlight when his ire was aroused. But now, in sharing his company and not just looking at him, but seeing him, she slowly began to understand the pain behind his calm mask. It was evident in his troubled countenance when nothing was amiss, in the way he pressed his lips together even when he relaxed, and in the glimmer in his eye that could be his leashed anger but might also be unshed tears.

  Her heart beating nervously, Solaria took a steadying breath. “I—” Her foot caught on the hem of her borrowed robes, and she stumbled forward, the cobblestones rushing up to meet her.

  But the impact never came, and when the nymph opened her eyes, she found herself staring up into Kaiyr’s stoic features. “Are you hurt, Lady Solaria?” he asked gently, and Solaria’s opinion of the blademaster began to change when she heard the genuine concern in his voice and read it in his face.

  “No,” she replied, flustered. “Thank you. I’m fine.”

  “Then, all is well,” Kaiyr replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Lady Solaria… you are shining with fey light. You will blind others if they look at you.”

  Solaria realized she had lost control of herself in the surprise of the fall. “Oh… I’m sorry.” With a moment’s concentration, the radiance disappeared. Kaiyr righted her, waiting for her to steady herself on her feet before letting go. Then she looked at him, puzzled. “Why weren’t you….”

  “My body and mind have become resilient to such effects through my training,” he explained. Then he frowned.

  Solaria recoiled, afraid again. “What?” she asked defensively.

  Noticing her reaction, Kaiyr’s expression calmed, and he shook his head. “I cannot believe I have made you walk this far in my old robes. Come, let us find something more suitable for you to wear.”

  It was only after Kaiyr emerged from the umpteenth clothing boutique, laden with an uncountable number of paper boxes full of clothes, that the blademaster realized his mistake in offering to clothe Solaria. For a nymph who had initially been so opposed to wearing any sort of attire, she certainly had a voracious consumer spirit.

  Kaiyr counted the coins he kept reserved in his sleeves; his petty cash supply had grown exponentially in the past month. Somehow, she had already spent thirty pieces of platinum! However, he did not resent her the expenditure of his funds; he needed very little to get by and had no desire for expensive material pleasures, but one corner of his mind thought that those thirty platinum coins could have been put to much better use than dresses and gloves and shoes and other decorations for the body.

  Regardless, he felt immeasurably better when Solaria dashed ahead of him and twirled around on the sidewalk, her smile and arms spread wide. “Oh, Kaiyr, this is simply wonderful! All these things are so beautiful! I had no idea people actually could wear anything this amazing! I feel almost like I’m not wearing anything at all!”

  Not seeing a reason to remind her that she really was barely wearing anything, considering she wore only a brilliant, goldenrod dress that showed much leg on one side, Kaiyr bowed and replied with a small smile, “It pleases me to no end to see you smile, Lady Solaria.”

  She flashed her teeth at him but then paused, sniffing the air. A moment later, she turned toward the source of the aroma, a restaurant carved out of a squat tree whose trunk was nearly forty feet in diameter. Kaiyr joined her, glancing inside. It seemed a posh place, an eatery where one might spend several gold on an entrée, and his gaze wandered down the street, to cafés and other restaurants whose meals would cost a tenth as much.

  Then, with Solaria still staring into the great tree, he turned and led the way inside. Solaria, beaming up at him, scampered to join Kaiyr, even putting one hand on his arm and walking close to his side.

  Inside, the pair was seated and in short order enjoying a fine meal of imported fresh fish teleported right from the back of a boat to the restaurant after the pair ordered their meal. To accompany the meal, Kaiyr ordered a bottle of Zaeriethian wine, made from the rarest grapes found growing wild, deep in the forests of the elves.

  *

  I sighed and shook my head, looking down at my character sheet and feeling a little guilty in Kaiyr’s stead. “Well,” I said, “I suppose I’ve done enough buttering up. Guess I’ll spring this on her now. Say… can I make a Diplomacy check to see if that will help the way she receives what I’m about to tell her?”

  Dingo thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so. You have any ranks in Diplomacy?”

  “A few,” I replied. “I’ve got a plus two from having five ranks in Sense Motive, two from my robes, and I’ve managed to siphon off a few skill points at the last couple levels to put a few in there, so I’m at plus six these days.” I rolled my d20, getting a 14. “All right, that brings me to twenty. I know I haven’t said anything yet; I just want this to sort of be my Diplomacy check for this conversation. I don’t really need her freaking out again.”

  “Go for it.”

  *

  Kaiyr leaned back to let the waiter remove his empty plate from before him. Solaria still picked delicately at her fish, a contented smile having settled over her features. Kaiyr’s breath caught in his throat as he witnessed a momentary display of Astra’s impishness in Solaria when she became frustrated at a bone she had been separating from her meal and swatted it deftly out of the way with her knife.

  Settling his nerves with the calm control he was learning to master, Kaiyr decided it was time to test the waters. “Lady Solaria,” he said in Sylvan, the language the nymph used most often, and she looked up at him quizzically. “I wish to thank you for accompanying me this afternoon and eve. I have enjoyed myself in your company, and I do certainly hope you have not found my presence disappointing.” He glanced at the wall, then back at her. “I… also hope I have proven myself neither spiteful nor a man to be feared.”

  Solaria’s contented look faded, but it was replaced with a grateful one. “Kaiyr… yes, thank you. I haven’t had this much fun in a day, ever. Of course, I suppose I haven’t been around that long,” she added with a momentary, pensive frown. “Why do you bring this up now?”

  She is perceptive, Kaiyr noted, not unlike Lady Astra. Drawing in a breath, he nodded more to himself than to her as he decided to forge ahead. “I wish to invite you to the temple of Arvanos Sinterian again on the morrow. It is my desire to ask the First Father for aid in restoring the Lady Astra to life. You are somehow connected to her, though I cannot determine exactly how, and I feel it is right to ask for your company. Moreover, I would be honored to bring you to the ceremony.”

  The nymph’s gaze dropped to her plate, and her hands slowly lowered her utensils to the table. “She is the one who died, whose place I have taken?” It wasn’t exactly a question, but she looked to the elf for confirmation.

  Kaiyr nodded. “I do not consider you to have ‘taken Lady Astra’s place,’ but if that is how you view it, then
yes, my lady.”

  The sounds of the restaurant faded into nothingness around the dining pair as each stared into the other’s eyes, Kaiyr searching Solaria’s for an answer, and Solaria… Kaiyr had not even an inkling of what she sought in him. Slowly, the nymph broke the connection and cut another piece of fish, chewing it timidly toward the front of her mouth before swallowing. Then, still not looking at him, she asked, “Why do you want to resurrect her?”

  Watching her eat, Kaiyr answered, perhaps a little too quickly, “She is an ally whom I respect, and she has unfinished business in this world. I would help her complete it.”

  Solaria glanced up at him, and the elf knew he was nearly transparent to her eyes. “That’s the answer you give for the world, and for your friends. But you do not feel compelled to bring her back because she is an ally, or a friend, do you?”

  He hesitated, but after a moment, Kaiyr resigned himself to her scrutiny and shook his head, wordless.

  Spearing the last piece of fish on her fork, Solaria gave him a soft look, one that was part-smile, part admonishment. “Why can’t you say it, Kaiyr?” she asked, her voice at once full of childish innocence and the wisdom of the ages. “Don’t you love her?”

  “I…” Kaiyr started, but then he closed his mouth, unused to such an opponent, verbally. “I know not,” he said with a sigh, and Solaria seemed to deflate, as well. “I have never before experienced such a feeling toward someone else. I love my father, my mother, and my home, but I have never before felt this desire, such as when I wish to help her even when she rejects it, even when she does not reciprocate, even when she acts unlawfully. Moreover, I have known her for only three short months. I have never heard of an elf falling in… love with another in such a short period. I am too young to know such feelings, much less act upon them.”

  Solaria looked up as though about to argue with him, but then though the better of it. Instead, she gave him a quiet, almost sad smile. “I will come with you tomorrow, Kaiyr.”