by Pile, Duncan
Hephistole picked up the ugly-looking pebble, feeling its sharp edges graze his skin. The memories began slowly and then came in a flood. Ferast, skulking around the college. A feeling of concern ignored, the boy left to his own devices. He remembered conversations with Emelda, listening to her concerns about Ferast’s fixation with the use of healing as a weapon. Again, he failed to act, leaving the troubled boy in the hands of his mentors. He remembered finally choosing to intervene, visiting the boy’s room, only to find he had already fled the college. His focus shifted, dwelling on Everand instead. He remembered Voltan making an example of him in public, and how Gaspi and the others had overcome that hurdle and made peace with him. He remembered how out of place Everand had looked before he transported to the Measure, and he remembered the boy coming back dead. He felt that sorrow once again – the shock of seeing the handsome boy’s corpse, laid out on the floor of the Observatory. Everand, killed by Ferast - the boy Hephistole had failed to reach out to and who had turned renegade.
“Acknowledge your failings, and bring them to Love’s feet,” Heath continued.
Hephistole looked at the jagged pebble once more, and somehow he could see his part in things more clearly than ever before. He had failed, of that there was no doubt, but he couldn’t take responsibility for things outside of his control. Yes he should have intervened with Ferast sooner, but Ferast had made his own choices. There had been many factors at play, and it was arrogant to assume full responsibility for something Hephistole could not have made happen if he had tried. Yes, Everand had died at the Measure, and that death had been tragic, but they lived in dangerous times, and the decision to attend the Measure had been taken after much consideration. Not only that, but they had put safety measures in place, and there was just no way of predicting what had happened.
In that moment of clarity, Hephistole realised that he’d been taking responsibility for Everand’s death as if he had murdered the boy himself! Inflating his failures to that level made them impossible for him to deal with. It was no wonder he’d become incapacitated! The slump he’d allowed himself to fall into as a result was in some ways even worse than anything else he’d done. By indulging in self-loathing the way he had, he’d placed every person on the quest to Pell in danger, along with the citizens of Helioport, and perhaps the whole of Antropel.
Suddenly, everything was crystal clear. His biggest error was failing to play his part. That was all that Love asked of him – to fulfil his duties and give the quest to Pell the greatest chance of success. Seeing the way forward, Hephistole slipped off his chair and fell to his knees. He opened his heart to Love, acknowledging that he had failed to give his time and attention to Ferast when he was being drawn into darkness. But he also acknowledged that he’d blamed himself for more than he had any right to. He had selfishly indulged in guilt in recent weeks, leaving others in jeopardy. He beseeched love for forgiveness, and asked for another chance to do his part.
He felt a great sense of approval wash over him, but Love wasn’t done with him yet. It nudged at him, urging him to extend himself the same mercy he would give to others. It was one thing to seek forgiveness from another, but another thing altogether to offer it to yourself. Humbled, Hephistole bowed his head.
“I forgive myself,” he said out loud, acknowledging that perfection was too high a standard to expect of anyone, including himself. His burden shifted, lightened and then lifted, and for the first time in weeks Hephistole started to feel like himself again. Filled with a sense of peace, he stayed there on his knees while the intense presence of love slowly withdrew. He was there for some time, unwilling to let go of his newfound peace of mind, but eventually the ache in his knees brought him fully back to the present.
He slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes. The four spirits sat around him in a half circle, their luminous eyes riveted to him. Heath was eyeing him hopefully, waiting for him to speak.
“I’ve been rather indulgent haven’t I?” the chancellor said, smiling freely for the first time since Everand’s death.
Heath smiled, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing. “Come on man, get up!” he said, extending a hand.
Hephistole let Heath pull him up, groaning at the pain in his knees as he straightened them. He fell back into his chair, flexing his knees experimentally as the pain diminished.
“Thank you Heath,” Hephistole said with sincerity. “I don’t think any person in Helioport could have helped me in the way you just have. I owe you.”
“Nonsense,” Heath said. “There can be no debts in such matters. Besides, you may have got there on your own if left to your own devices for long enough, but we don’t have the luxury of time.”
“Quite right!” Hephistole said. “There’s so much to do. Now that the spirits are here, we need to reunite them with their bond-mates. Emea, Lydia and Rimulth are here in the tower. I will go and get them.” The spirits broke into a chorus of excited noise.
“Hold on!” Heath said, quieting them with a raised hand. “You mean Gaspi went on ahead without the others?”
“Yes. He left with Taurnil, Voltan and a group of warriors. They slipped out without telling their friends.”
“No doubt he was trying to keep them out of danger,” Heath said. “He should know better though; the spirits have been very clear that they are all meant to stay together – four elementals and four bond mates, or all may be lost.”
“What about the fire spirit?” Hephistole asked. “I thought it died.”
“There’s no time to discuss it,” Heath responded. “All you need to know is that this is not the same spirit. It found me in my forest home along with the other three, and serves in place of the first spirit. That spirit’s bond-mate should be aware of this before she arrives in the room. We can talk more on the way.”
“On the way where?”
“On the way to wherever Gaspi is,” Heath responded.
“I can’t leave the college,” Hephistole said. “It is my responsibility to look after its residents.”
“I understand that,” Heath responded. “But you must at least get me to Gaspi, and then you can return. Now go and wake the three remaining bond-mates and bring them here. They should pack quickly but thoroughly. They are going to find Gaspi, and I’m going with them!”
Seven
Emea blinked in the darkness, wondering what had awoken her. Her eyelids felt heavy with sleep, and began to slide closed again when a loud knock sounded at her door. She sat up, frowning in confusion. Wasn’t it the middle of the night?
“Who is it?” she called.
“It’s Hephistole. Let me in, my dear.”
Hephistole? What in the world was he doing outside her room in the middle of the night? Throwing back her bedclothes, she swung her feet onto the floor and climbed out of bed. She summoned a globe light and sent it up to hover in the centre of the room. She padded over to the door and pulled it open. Hephistole stood there in his nightclothes, shifting energetically from foot to foot.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
Emmy realised she was just standing there, staring at him. “Yes, sorry,” she said, stepping back from the door.
“Apologies for the untimely nature of this visit,” he said as he bustled into the room.
“What time is it?” Emmy asked.
“About an hour before dawn,” the chancellor responded. “Emea, I want you to pack for a long trip into the wilds; just as we discussed when planning the quest to Pell. Do it fast, and then transport up to my office wearing travelling clothes. I will be going to Lydia’s room next, and Rimulth’s after that, and it’ll be much quicker if I explain what’s happening to all of you at once.”
“Er, are you being serious?” Emmy asked.
“I know it’s an unusual request, but will you do as I ask?”
Emmy paused. The chancellor hadn’t done much to earn her trust recently, but there was something different about him in that moment. He was more animated, more…himself.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said, earning a broad smile from Hephistole – another good sign.
“Thank you Emmy,” he said, stepping over to the door and pulling it open. “I must be going. See you shortly.” He gave a small bow and left, closing the door behind him.
…
Emmy stepped onto the transporter, feeling like she was dreaming. Looking down at her sturdy boots and traveller’s cape, she couldn’t make any sense of what was happening. Perhaps Hephistole’s recent malady had gone one step too far, and he’d finally gone round the twist! Well, there was only one way to find out.
“Observatory,” she enunciated, and was caught up in the magic of transportation.
When she appeared in the Observatory, she was greeted by an excited string of squeaking noises and the urgent scrabbling of claws against Hephistole’s polished, wooden floors. She looked around in alarm and saw an otter racing towards her, bright blue eyes locked onto her own.
“Lilly!” she screamed and fell to her knees as the elemental ran into her outstretched arms. Lilly rubbed at her face with her nose, emitting noises of excitement and pleasure. Tears running down her face, Emmy felt something open up inside her. The bond, which had remained barren for weeks, flooded with life at the spirit’s return. It was like water being pouring onto dry desert sands, and those sands bursting into bloom. Consumed by the flow of affection from the water spirit, Emmy forgot everything except the moment, giving her best and purest emotion back to the spirit she had missed so much.
How long she was down there on her knees she couldn’t say, but eventually the flood of emotion calmed to a steady flow and Emmy looked up, peering around the room through bleary, tear-filled eyes. She couldn’t see a thing! She used the hem of her cloak to wipe the tears away and looked again. To her surprise, Lydia and Rimulth were already there. They must have got ready quickly and made it up to the Observatory ahead of her. Hephistole was there, of course, dressed in surprisingly sensible travelling attire, and with him was the wildest looking man Emmy had ever seen. He wore animal skins from head to toe and his hair hung in thick, ropey dreadlocks. Could it be…? But before Emmy could finish that thought, she was distracted by another squeaking creature – a creamy white ferret nuzzling plaintively at her ankles. Bending down, she looked into Loreill’s clear green eyes and ran a hand over his furry head.
“Hello Loreill,” she said, happy to see the earth elemental but hating the reminder that Gaspi wasn’t there. He should be sharing this experience with her, reuniting with Loreill as she had with Lilly. As she stood up, she glanced at Rimulth and saw that the hawk-like air spirit was perched on his shoulder. He smiled at her in understanding and ran a knuckle along its beak, eliciting a contented noise from his bond-mate. He glanced towards Lydia, the smile fading from his face as he did so.
Lydia stood on her own at the window, eyes averted from Emmy’s emotional reunion with Lilly. Emmy was suddenly guilt-stricken. This must be so painful for Lydia. Emmy put Lilly down and started towards her friend, but she stopped dead as she rounded Hephistole’s desk. Crouched a short distance from Lydia was what looked like her fire spirit, its black scales gleaming in the mage-light as it watched her with coal-bright eyes. Lydia refused to look at it. In fact, she seemed to be refusing to look at anyone!
“Lydia, is that the…” Emmy said breathlessly.
“No it’s not!” Lydia interrupted, turning round to face Emmy, though quite deliberately avoiding looking at the fire spirit.
“But then how…” Emmy started.
“The elementals do as they will,” the wild-man interjected. “They have sent another fire spirit to accompany you on this quest. It arrived at my home with the others, and I was tasked with bringing them here.”
“Emea, this is Heath,” Hephistole said, indicating the wild-man with a wave of his hand.
“I thought so,” Emea responded, smiling shyly at the druid. Heath was intimidating to look at, but after all she’d heard about him, she just couldn’t find him frightening. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Heath responded. “Gaspi spoke of you often.”
Emmy’s smile faded instantly at the mention of Gaspi. If he thought so much of her, why did he take off without telling her?
“Right!” Hephistole said briskly. “You are all here, so let’s get down to business. Please, take a seat.” They sat down around the low coffee table near the transporter.
“First of all, I want to apologise to all of you. I have been…out of sorts, shall we say, and have not fulfilled my duty of care in the past few weeks. I have let the quest become a point of contention, and due to my stubbornness, people I trust and respect have felt forced to go behind my back.”
“Voltan should have known better!” Lydia said, stiff with indignation.
“I’m sorry to disagree with you Lydia, but the fault is mine and mine alone. In all the years I have known him, Voltan has been unswervingly loyal. In the absence of clear guidance, he has done what any leader would have done and taken things into his own hands. The same goes for your friends,” he added meaningfully, looking at each of them in turn. “Even if their actions were precipitous, they did what they did out of a desire to protect you.” Emmy and Lydia exchanged a glance that eloquently communicated what they thought of that.
“So what happens now?” Lydia asked. The fire spirit crouched on the floor at her feet, watching her with smouldering eyes, but Lydia studiously avoided its gaze.
“Heath?” Hephistole said.
Heath cleared his throat. “The spirits arrived at my home a few days ago. Apparently it is time for me to leave my reclusive ways behind, at least for a little while. In their way, they insisted that I accompany them to Helioport, and see that they are reunited with their bond-mates, and after that I am to accompany Gaspi wherever he needs to go. I understand that he and several others have undertaken a quest to recover fragments of the altar to El-Amyari in Pell. I’m not yet convinced of the wisdom of the mission itself, but this much I know – Gaspi should not be separated from Loreill, and neither should the spirits be separated from each other. We must catch them, and either talk them into returning or accompany them on their journey.”
Emmy sat there in stunned silence. They were being given what they’d been begging for ever since Gaspi left.
“When do we leave?” Rimulth asked.
“I trust both you girls feel the same way?” Hephistole asked. Emmy glanced at Lydia uncertainly. She desperately wanted to be reunited with Gaspi, but was her friend fit for a long and dangerous journey?
“Let’s go,” Lydia said without any hesitation.
Emmy breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I’m ready.”
“Right then,” Hephistole said decisively. “Wait here one moment and we will transport to Arkright.” He walked off around the corner and returned minutes later carrying a knapsack.
Hephistole reached inside his robe and withdrew a familiar object - part of the enchanted amulet that transported them over long distances. “Grab hold of each other,” he said, and waited until everyone was touching. “Transport to Arkright!”
…
When they arrived in Stragos’ bungalow, they unknowingly mimicked a scene that had been played out in that exact spot just over a week previously, falling about on the floor, gagging and heaving from the unpleasant effects of long-distance transportation. Three of the elementals transformed into spirit form and shot out through cracks in the door, relieving themselves of their discomfort by entering their natural environments. Emmy lifted her head and looked at Hephistole – the only one among them still on his feet.
“Light the fire,” she croaked, indicating the empty hearth. “For the fire spirit.”
“Right you are,” Hephistole said, picking his way over sprawling limbs towards the hearth. Even though it was early summer, Stragos kept a stack of logs and kindling next to the fire. He bent down to start arranging the wood when a loud clattering
noise sounded from the hallway. The door to the lounge flew open, and through it burst Stragos, swathed in black velvet nightclothes and holding glowering fistfuls of power.
“Who goes there?” he called, squinting at the gathering of strangers suspiciously.
“Stragos! It’s Hephistole!” the chancellor said, casting a globe light into the air to illuminate the scene.
“So it is!” Stragos said in surprise, letting go of his power and breaking into a hearty chuckle. “Good to see you, old friend.” He stepped across the room with surprising dexterity for such a large man and engulfed Hephistole in a hug. “I assume you transported in,” he said, releasing the chancellor and eyeing the prone forms of Heath, Lydia, Rimulth and the fire spirit.
“Yes. I was about to attempt to light a fire for this elemental,” Hephistole said.
“Oh yes,” Stragos said, looking intently at the fire spirit. “Last time young Gaspi set one of my trees on fire. But this couldn’t be the same…” he tailed off, eyeing Lydia cautiously.
“No it’s not,” Hephistole responded quickly. “Stragos I don’t mean to be rude, but this spirit needs fire. What’s the quickest way to light a flame round here?”
“The stove never goes out. This way,” Stragos said. Hephistole bent down, picked up the sorry-looking dragon, and followed Stragos through to the kitchen. Stragos walked over to a large, iron stove, twisted the handle and opened the door. Sure enough, a bed of embers glowed heartily from within. The fire spirit didn’t hesitate. It flickered into spirit form and shot across the room, disappearing into the interior of the stove.
“Thank you,” Hephistole said, watching the spirit bathing in the warmth of the glowing embers.
“Not at all,” Stragos said, closing the stove door to keep the heat in. He turned around and gave Hephistole a shrewd look. “So tell me, what important matter has brought you here at such an unseemly hour?”
