Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies

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Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies Page 8

by Charles E Yallowitz


  “May I ask why you refused the others without asking me what they do?” Kalu politely inquires.

  Nyx smiles wide and confidently begins her explanation. “I know what they do. The gauntlet can emit shockwaves of varying size and shape, which is an ability that I have no use for. Besides, the gauntlet would be too heavy for me to use comfortably if I’m forced into close combat. I have no use for a medallion that gives me the ability to mentally control birds. My forest tracker friend would probably get annoyed that I was stealing their free will and I don’t want to hear him lecture me on ethics. Finally, the gargoyle statue is nothing more than a dormant flying golem. A wandering caster like me has no use for a servant creature.”

  “That leaves you with the crystal star and the shawl of reflection. Both of them are expensive,” Kalu admits with a wicked smile.

  “I don’t doubt it. What do these items do specifically?” the half-elf asks with mild curiosity. “I assume that the shawl has a limitation since its aura wasn’t extremely powerful.”

  “The shawl can reflect fire and acid spells. It is simple, but useful considering those are the most common attack spells,” the woman explains. She glances at the crystal star with a sour, defeated look. “To be honest, I don’t know what the crystal star can do. I assumed it was a necrocaster item when I came across it, but it has a bright aura instead of a void. Sadly, I have not been able to do any in-depth research on what it does or how it works. I don’t even know why I’m offering it to you. I suggest you take the shawl, my dear. Let’s pretend you never saw the star.”

  Kalu taps a finger on the counter, which causes the three rejected chests and the crystal star to start sinking through the wood.

  “Hold on,” Nyx snaps, swiftly picking up the crystal star. She stares at it closely before grinning.

  “Please give it back. You are too young to be playing with something that could be dangerous,” Kalu warns her. The woman mutters a spell yanking the star out of Nyx’s hand by an invisible force.

  “You can’t do anything with it and I want a challenge,” Nyx declares. She uses her own invisible force spell to pull the star back to her hand.

  Kalu’s face turns red and begins to emit steam. “A challenge? Magic is not a game, child. You disgrace your teachers by ignoring my warnings.”

  “You said that you couldn’t figure it out, so you have no use for it. It will go to waste in your hands while it could help to make me stronger and wiser,” Nyx emphatically argues, her hands clasping the star to her chest. “I have nothing to challenge my magical abilities on the road aside from the occasional fight. Even then I am bored unless I fight another caster. If I can’t figure it out then I will give it to Cyril and accept that I was not up to the challenge. Please, let me buy it.”

  “There is the chance that the smoke in that crystal is a sealed demon. I cannot risk you releasing it. It would be a disaster,” Kalu states, a worried look on her face.

  Nyx waves her hand as if to shoo Kalu’s words away. “I doubt that it’s a demon. If you analyze the aura correctly then you can tell that the aura has no malevolence. It doesn’t have any emotional response like other magic items. One could say that the smoke is in a state of pure neutrality. This is just a vague guess since I haven’t had the time to look at the star’s physical structure in detail. There could be secrets in its shape and composition. I really want to spend time studying it, so please sell it to me.”

  “Your initial analysis is impressive. Maybe a prodigy trained by Cyril and Willow would be the proper person to sell this too,” Kalu says thoughtfully. “Seeing as you won’t let it rest, I will sell you the star if you can afford it. Do you still want these scrolls, the meditation salve, and the survival potions?”

  “Just the salve and the crystal star,” Nyx replies. She pulls out a small pouch from inside her shirt while Kalu begins writing on a scrap of paper.

  “The salve is two diamond spheres. The crystal star is fifty diamond spheres and three gold coins. I will not budge on the price,” the old woman swears, sliding the piece of paper to Nyx. The half-elf looks over the number and sighs pitifully. Three gold coins and five diamond spheres spill onto the counter when Nyx empties her pouch.

  Nyx looks like she is about to cry. “I’m sorry. That’s all I have. I don’t carry a lot of diamond currency because the roads are so dangerous. This is my emergency fund that my teachers gave me before I left Gaia. I will be getting enough to pay for the star tomorrow. I promise that I will pay you the remaining forty-seven diamond by tomorrow night.”

  “I have to refuse. You have an honest face,” the old woman admits, a victorious smile on her face, “but I am a businesswoman. Either you pay me now or the crystal star goes back under the counter.”

  “I’m not giving up yet!” Nyx announces. She slams her hands on the counter and glares at Kalu.

  Both women turn when the sound of a clawed foot striking the stone floor echoes behind them. Kalu stares in the direction of the store entrance as a bulky shadow moves across a stack of leather-bound tomes. Nyx breathes a sigh of relief when she sees the black-scaled fireskin in red robes step into view. His dark wood staff is lazily draped across his shoulders until he almost knocks over a shelf of potions. He starts using the staff as a walking stick while his heavy tail carefully pushes the shelf back up. Kalu is still staring until she sees a movement out of the corner of her eye. The storekeeper swiftly turns to gently smack Nyx on the side of the head. The half-elf grumbles while she pulls the crystal star out of her sleeve, but she refuses to put it on the counter.

  “I am hoping that you have some prism traps in stock,” Isaiah states without looking over at Nyx.

  “Of course, Isaiah,” Kalu says with a warm smile.

  “Ah, dear Nyx, we meet again in such an unlikely place,” the fireskin casually says. “This girl is one of the most promising apprentices that I have seen in my lifetime. She could very well become the greatest caster in history. What is it you’re buying, milady?”

  Nyx blushes slightly and hides her face behind her hair. “I was hoping to buy this crystal star and unlock its secrets, but I can’t afford it.”

  “She is forty-seven diamond spheres short. It is probably for the best since the item is a mystery,” the old woman mentions. A box filled with glass cylinders slowly floats to the counter. Isaiah pulls out a leather pouch and begins counting out coins and jewel spheres inside it.

  “I guess there isn’t any way for me to convince you to let me have the star. Here, Kalu,” Nyx whispers like a child whose favorite toy is being taken away. She starts to hand the crystal star over to Kalu, but Isaiah extends a clawed hand to push Nyx’s arm against her chest.

  “This should cover both purchases, my dear,” Isaiah announces, dropping the entire pouch on the counter. Kalu shakes her head while she takes the pouch and puts it out of sight.

  Nyx stares at Isaiah, her eyes bright and wide. “Thank you, sir. I already owe you so much. Is there any way that I can repay you?”

  “All I ask is that you ponder the following question,” requests the fireskin, revealing his front teeth with a smile. “What is the true source of your magic? If you can answer this question then you will become a stronger caster.”

  “I promise to focus on the riddle, sir,” the half-elf happily swears. She bows to Kalu and Isaiah before scampering out of the store with her new magic item. Isaiah grins wide enough to reflect the candlelight off his dull yellow teeth.

  He eventually breaks the silence in the store. “You were going to find a way to give the star to her, right?”

  “I would have found a way. It will come in handy when the time is right, but it would be too suspicious to let her take it without a fight,” Kalu answers, her voice becoming melodic and young. “After all, your organization is all about subterfuge and subtlety.”

  “That it is,” Isaiah agrees, vanishing in a puff of smoke.

  Kalu snaps her fingers and magically melts into the surrounding shado
ws. As soon as she is gone, an old man in dusty breeches and a white peasant shirt tumbles out of the shadows behind the counter. He groggily gets to his feet and gingerly rubs a large bump on his head. The old man looks around the store in confusion.

  “Who opened my store?”

  *****

  “Three more mugs of this stuff and an apple pie over here,” slurs Luke from his corner table at the inn. Fizzle sits on the sticky table while watching the half-elf lean back in his chair. Luke lazily yawns and stretches his arms over his head. The amber liquid in his mug splashes down on Luke’s face to the applause and laughter of the crowd.

  “Fizzle con . . . conc . . . Luke strange,” the drite whispers.

  Luke finishes what is left in the mug. “I’m fine. I just wanted to drink. A little boozing never hurt anyone.”

  Fizzle snorts and shakes his head. “That false.”

  “Fine, I lied. I don’t have an excuse for this. I think these drinks, the pies, and the rooms are draining my money pouch,” Luke says nonchalantly. “Eh, I’ll find more money somehow when I really need it. There’s always a bandit or undead hunt to join. Maybe I can get in on a dragon or demon hunt now that I’m a Hamilton graduate. You know, Fizzle, drinking this much by yourself isn’t as much fun as the dwarves make it look.”

  The tiny dragon looks at Luke with a quivering lip. “Fizzle here.”

  “True. You are here, but you don’t drink. So, I am still drinking alone,” claims the half-elf with a drunken smirk.

  A young barmaid with red hair and a warm smile arrives with Luke’s order. She stares at Fizzle with wonder while she puts the filled mugs on the table and takes the empties. The girl barely lets go of the fresh pie before Fizzle plunges his head into the warm pastry. Several patrons watch as the tiny creature devours the pie. Luke clears his throat to get the girl’s attention and hands her five coins of gold. The girl bows to him and walks away, but stops after taking a few steps.

  She turns back to the table and nervously coughs into her hand. “The drinks and pie were only three gold coins, sir.”

  Luke looks at her over the rim of his mug. “Keep the coins for yourself.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the girl replies with a smile.

  Fizzle licks his snout clean. “Why Luke do that?”

  “I realized something, Fizzle,” Luke drunkenly declares, pointing at the tiny dragon. “Money is too heavy to carry around and I have no safe place to leave it. Having more than ten gold coins for emergencies seems excessive for a nomad like me. Maybe I’ll work on a fortune when I’m older, but today I want to wander around Windemere for a while. It’s been a long time since I lacked a destination. Kind of funny that I wanted direction when I was wandering and now I want to wander when I finally have some direction.” He pauses to chug one of his drinks. “Does that make me stupid?”

  “No. Just Luke,” Fizzle happily answers.

  “I guess so,” whispers the forest tracker. He slowly leans toward the drite. “I have a serious question for you.”

  Fizzle leans toward Luke until his snout touches the half-elf’s nose. “What?”

  Luke sighs wistfully. “Why do people follow me?”

  Fizzle steps out of the remaining pie to lick himself clean and flutter onto the half-elf’s shoulder. He looks around the inn while he focuses on the limited vocabulary he has to explain such a complicated answer. Luke is staring into his mug of ale as Fizzle hops onto the table. The drite sits on his haunches and scratches the top of his head with his tail while staring at his friend.

  “Cause you Luke,” he announces triumphantly.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Luke mentions without looking away from his drink. “Do you have a spell that could make me understand your native tongue? That way you don’t have to struggle with your limited vocabulary. I should look into learning some dragon-tongue one of these days.”

  “Fizzle have spell,” he admits. Luke never hears Fizzle cast the spell, which creates a beam of purple energy. The beam worms out of the drite’s mouth and sticks to the shadows on the wall until it gently enters Luke’s ear. A painful shriek of static cuts through Luke’s brain and he can no longer hear anything, except Fizzle’s breathing.

  Fizzle’s voice is surprisingly deep and reptilian. “This spell will only last a few minutes because most of my magic is working to make you sober enough to understand what I am talking about. Now, I believe people follow you because of what you are. Everyone whose life you have touched since arriving at Selenia’s school has changed because you are a loyal friend who is confident, brave, and determined. These qualities do not falter even when you are faced with great obstacles. This creates an air of confidence about you, which brings out the best in those around you. Your friends have become stronger from watching you press on against staggering difficulties.’

  ‘In my two hundred and seven years, I have only met a few who have had this level of influence over those around them. Most of them understood their charisma and used it to their advantage. Luke, I do not consider you one of those people. You do not understand your worth in the eyes of those around you. It confuses you when they put their lives at risk for you because you do not feel you are worth it. I find this odd since you will put your life on the line for almost anybody. Before the spell fades, I will give you a simple answer that still holds true. We follow you because we believe in you and want to see where you will take us.”

  The purple beam vanishes, but Luke remains staring into his mug. A few sniffles escape his nose and he can feel his eyes start to sting with tears. He stops himself from crying as a hand calmly rests on his shoulder.

  “You have become a real cry-baby lately,” Aedyn jokes. He sits down and takes the last mug of ale.

  “I was just thinking about what you said a few days ago and everything else that has happened over the last few months. Fizzle explained some things that I still have a hard time accepting,” Luke admits, his voice low and muffled. “Before you try to start a debate, I still maintain that I am not someone who is worth following.”

  “I think I liked you better when you were arrogant and childish. Humility and depression does not suit you at all. It makes me want to-” Aedyn stops to take a sip of his drink and immediately gags. “What is this swill you are drinking?” He swishes it around in his mouth and looks for a way to politely spit it out.

  “Ale,” Luke burps.

  Aedyn forces himself to swallow the drink. “This is nauseating. The taste is stale and bitter. Although, I do admit that the taste is oddly familiar. If only I could place the style.”

  “It’s Gob Ale,” Luke mutters, hoping Aedyn doesn’t hear him.

  “You are drinking ale made by goblins. You are a braver soul than I am since those savages never make it the same way twice,” says the priest who is trying to ignore the foul taste in his mouth. “One hundred and twenty-seven people died last year from poisonous brews of this stuff. I am ordering some dwarven ale. If you are going to get drunk then use the brew that has a lower body count.”

  Aedyn takes the three mugs from the table and rushes to the bar before Luke can take another sip. He returns two minutes later with four tankards of frothy, dwarven ale. The priest breathes a sigh of relief before sitting down and taking a deep drink. Luke gladly takes one of the mugs, but only takes a sip.

  Luke suddenly feels Aedyn accidentally kick him in the shin. “Are you okay, Aedyn? You could have asked the barmaid to exchange the drinks. Also, your leg is shaking.”

  “Sorry about that. I have a lot on my mind,” the priest apologizes.

  “That seems to be going around,” Luke says. He yawns and stretches his arms over his head. His arms drop slowly after he feels a small pop in his shoulders.

  Aedyn wrings his hands nervously before slapping them onto the table. “Kellia asked me to stay with her.”

  Luke sputters into his mug. “Why you?”

  “Do not be jealous, Luke,” Aedyn sighs.

  “I’m not
jealous. I just don’t understand why she would want you to stay. She doesn’t need bodyguards anymore,” the forest tracker states. Fizzle flutters into the air with a large yawn and fades away. Luke feels a slight breeze when the drite zips to the upstairs rooms for a nap.

  “She told me that she would have to form a council once she assumes the throne and she wishes for me to be a member,” Aedyn whispers, leaning across the table. “I believe she deems you too much of a wanderer and Nyx has a very difficult path to follow.”

  “It sounds like a nicer life than following me on the road,” Luke quickly admits.

  “True, but I have promised that I would continue with you. After all, I am the only healer that you know,” says the priest.

  Luke slaps Aedyn on the shoulder. “Then, I’ll learn healing magic and you don’t have to worry.”

  “You may be a lot of things, Luke, but you are not caster material,” Aedyn declares with a smile. “Stick to your blades and acrobatics.”

  “I already know a few natural remedies,” Luke points out.

  Aedyn rubs his temples while he tries to find a delicate way to argue with the forest tracker. “No offense, but your talents are nothing compared to the healing magic that I wield. Priests, such as myself, are allowed by the gods to use magic in order to prevent death or even reverse it. So, you can see that healing major injuries that would otherwise kill a person is a holy gift. To reach my level of power, you would need to enter a priesthood and give up your wandering ways to begin learning the scriptures of your chosen deity.”

 

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