Legends of Windemere: 03 - Allure of the Gypsies

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Good,” Luke says, surprised by Aedyn’s quick agreement. “You’re finally making sense.”

  “It will be a hard road ahead of me,” Aedyn admits, imagining the headache in his future. “I will have to establish myself in the local temples and gain influence to be of any use to Kellia. She wishes to have a wise and respected advisor, which will take years for me to become. There is also the matter of my belongings being divided among Hamilton Academy, the Durag temple of Gaia, and my old home in Freedom. It will take weeks to get all of it sent to Gods’ Voice and sorted out.”

  “I’m sure Kellia can help you with all of that,” Luke says, stretching his legs over his head.

  “I do not want to rely on her too much. I need to stand on my own in order to prove that I am worthy of her trust,” Aedyn proudly contends.

  “You can earn her trust by working with her,” Luke suggests.

  Aedyn uncomfortably clears his throat. “I said that I did not want to rely on her too much. That does not mean I will not spend time with her or ask her for any help. What I meant was that I did not want to always run to her for help. I need to forge my own influence and public support.”

  “I guess I understand, but don’t think you’ve heard the last from me,” Luke says with a cocky smile. “I might be banning you from traveling with me, but I’m not going to ignore you. I’ll send you plenty of messages about my exploits. Though, I’m sure you’ll hear about them from every bard in Ralian.”

  “I am going to miss your imagination. Just do not let it get the best of you,” the priest says with more seriousness than he intended. He gives a weak punch to Luke’s arm before lying down again, gently putting his hands behind his head.

  “Are you trying to make me cry?” Luke inquires with a twinge of sadness in his voice.

  “No, but I am sure we will tear up a bit when we part ways. The two of us have been together since your adventures began. We are the last of the original band of misfits and we are about to go our separate ways. After everything that has happened . . .” Aedyn answers, trying not to sound too choked up about the inevitable parting. “I do not want to talk about this. We both know what we will feel and we agree that no matter what, we are friends.”

  The half-elves remain silent, each trying to think of something else to talk about without success. It feels like a lifetime since they first met, though it has been no more than half a year. Aedyn still remembers the graduation ceremony before they left the academy. Fritz’s shocked expression after being overlooked by a pair of beautiful elven heiresses still brings a proud smile to the priest’s face. Both of the young men breathe sighs of contentment as they continue to quietly remember their adventures. An hour passes before either is willing to say anything and risk starting the conversation that they wish to avoid until the last possible minute. It is Aedyn who cuts the silence with a raspy cough.

  “So, what are you able to do?” Aedyn casually asks.

  “I was given four gifts, but I only discovered three of them,” Luke answers with a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Lord Perrin said it is probably a transformation, which might have to be discovered through real combat. I knew that she would have stopped just short of killing me, so the danger wasn’t high enough. The other three gifts are . . . decent, I guess.”

  “Define decent,” the priest requests, curiosity building behind his blue eyes.

  “They are rather restrictive and not entirely useful. Lord Perrin doesn’t even understand why I have some of them. She would have to see my transformation form to make any sense of the other three. The form that I take is the source for the other abilities, but, for now, I have three gifts that I can’t see much use for,” Luke explains, raising his hand and lazily turning it in the air. “Don’t get me wrong. I can understand how being able to understand any language after hearing a few words is handy, but I can’t speak or read the languages. I doubt my time on the road will give me any study breaks. Then, there is my healing ability if you can even call it that. My blood has to be ingested to cure natural poisons and diseases, but it doesn’t work on me. What if I’m the first one to go down in a fight? Will Nyx cut me open to drink my blood like a vampire? It’s disgusting when you think about it.”

  “I can see how that can be a problem, but there are obvious applications. You can gather information with your linguistic ability. It would be useful for spying if you can get close to your enemy. If a person believes you do not speak a specific language, they will openly transfer secrets in that language,” Aedyn thoughtfully suggests. He sits up and turns to face Luke who remains on his back, staring at his hand. “As far as your blood ability, it sounds like something that you would use as a last resort. If a person is on the verge of death then they will take whatever medicine you offer, especially if you are dealing with a fast acting poison or you are deep in the wilderness. Desperate situations require extreme solutions.”

  “I thought of that, but it still feels like my gifts are situational instead of versatile,” Luke complains.

  Aedyn runs a hand through his black hair, thinking of advice to give Luke. “You forget that you are a capable warrior and your skills will improve the more that you fight. Uli knows your potential, so she saw no reason to increase your combat prowess. It remains to be seen how powerful your hidden form is, so hold off on your final decision.”

  Luke smiles and reaches out to slap Aedyn’s knee. “As usual, you’re probably right.”

  “You only mentioned two abilities. What is the third?” Aedyn asks, happy to have changed Luke’s mood.

  “A resting trance thingy,” Luke replies, his voice slightly more up-beat than before. “Lord Perrin says it might have something to do with my rote system.”

  “Rote system? I have heard of that theory,” the priest admits, struggling to remember the details that he was told. “They are the building blocks of matter, which the naked eye cannot see. Fritz called them cells because they hold material inside without letting it out like a jail cell. I did not know forest trackers believed in it.”

  “Some do, but I don’t really pay much attention to it,” Luke says with a casual shrug. “Lord Perrin is one of the believers who calls them rotes instead of cells. From her explanation, it’s basically the same thing with a different name. Rote comes from a pixian word for small, which takes a full minute to say if you can’t do the wing motions. Either way, my rote cell system is self-energizing.”

  Aedyn nods his head, waiting for Luke to explain, but his friend goes back to staring at the sky. “What does that mean, Luke?”

  “Basically, I don’t feel physical fatigue and I no longer have to sleep to regain my energy. All I have to do is meditate and concentrate on my energy to avoid mental exhaustion. That is only the beginning, though,” Luke explains, sitting up and folding his legs under him. “My body feels a little tingly and hypersensitive at times, so Lord Perrin thinks that this is a power that will branch into other abilities. I might be able to feel sensations through every rote in my body for full awareness or regenerate limbs. Powers like those require that I gain full control of every speck of my body . . . It’s just too much, Aedyn. I want this gift out of my system. I’d rather have acid spit than something this . . . heavy.”

  “You could not kiss Kira if you had acid spit,” Aedyn points out.

  “Fine, acid spit would be worse,” Luke retorts, his frustration growing. “This gift still sucks. Right now, my body feels fine, but my mind is convinced that I’m tired. I can feel a yawn building in my chest, but I never actually yawn. My instincts are just confused.”

  “So, you get tired and sleepy because you think you should be tired and sleepy,” Aedyn says in wonder. “Wow. That is a good example of mind over matter.”

  “Great. I can be an example of a cliché,” the forest tracker childishly snaps. “I’d rather be able to sleep because I’m tired . . . but I’m not tired. Even if I try to sleep, it is nothing more than meditation.”

  “I remembe
r you being a deep sleeper, Luke. Could that help you get some real sleep?” Aedyn suggests, trying to be helpful.

  Luke shakes his head and growls deeply. He stares at the ground like a scolded child. “If I meditate for too long, my body moves around on its own. I took a nap and sleepwalked into a grove of thorn bushes. Perrin said this problem will stop when I get more practice meditating and controlling my rote system. Some day, I will be able to stay in a trance for eight hours, but for now I can only meditate for two hours before I wander off.”

  “I have a book on meditation and spiritual centering that you can have,” Aedyn offers the frustrated warrior.

  “A parting gift, huh?” Luke jokes before he realizes what he’s saying. A feeling of sadness washes over them and the air thickens with a sense of discomfort.

  “It’s going to feel weird traveling without you,” Luke admits.

  “I know, but I cannot go any further,” Aedyn says, staring intently at a flock of starlings passing overhead. “I do not think you understand, Luke. This is as far as my organization will allow me to go with you. They did not even want me to go this far.”

  “You got in trouble with your temple?” Luke asks in surprise. He smiles innocently as Aedyn frowns at him.

  “I have to be honest with you before we separate. I cannot tell you everything, but I have been granted permission to tell you about my role in all of this,” Aedyn explains, his voice low and tense. His eyes shift nervously while he gathers his thoughts. “I am part of a secret organization, created to nurture a very important prophecy. The real reason that I was at Hamilton Military Academy was because a seer saw that a champion of Windemere would appear there. My superiors chose me because of my age and demeanor. They were correct in assuming that Selenia would not be suspicious of someone like me.”

  Aedyn smiles in amusement, but quickly coughs and recovers his calm, serious demeanor. “I was waiting for you under the pretense that I was evaluating the academy for a battle priest contract. My orders were to watch over you until you left the area, but I convinced my superiors to allow me to travel with you until Gods’ Voice. Did you ever wonder how I was able to receive new orders from my temple so quickly when I was dealing with a fledgling hero instead of a real crisis?”

  “I thought it had to do with us being good friends,” Luke answers bluntly.

  “We are good friends,” Aedyn states, taken aback by Luke’s casual tone. “I would say you are one of my best friends and have been a great influence on my life, but that is not the point.”

  “You’re lying. Our friendship is the only point and you know it,” Luke triumphantly declares with a grin. “Your orders were the original reason we met, but I doubt they are the only reason you decided to stay with me.”

  “Do not be-” starts the priest.

  Luke swiftly cuts him off. “If you lie to me then you’ll regret it.”

  “I hate it when you are right,” Aedyn claims with a smile. “Still, the truth of our meeting had to be said. I did not want us to part ways with any secrets.”

  “You expected me to be shocked and appalled, right?”

  “I did hope for some level of surprise.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “It is probably better this way.”

  “My brain hurts too much for shock anyway.”

  Aedyn sighs and chuckles. “You know, Luke, I think I have learned to smile more thanks to you.”

  “When we first met, you were stuffy and emotionless. Now, you smile and joke around,” Luke says, fondly remembering his first impression of the priest. “You still turn back into a stoic downer at times, but it isn’t as often as it used to be.”

  “It is good to hear that,” Aedyn admits.

  “Since we’re sharing secrets, I should be honest too,” Luke states, his voice becoming nervous.

  “Is this about where my small bottle of sacred, ritual-only wine went several months ago?” Aedyn angrily asks.

  Luke holds up his hands in innocence. “That was Nimby.”

  “I should have known!” Aedyn exclaims. He rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. “What is your secret?”

  “I happened to go through your bags the night we fought those water demons on the Riverscout,” Luke confesses, awkwardly avoiding Aedyn’s piercing stare. “I was looking for some herbs to settle my stomach. Nimby’s medicine helped me out a bit, but I was hoping for something more potent and I thought you would have something. Well, I came upon a poem that you wrote to a lady friend. You were coming into your room before I could put the poem back, so I snuck out with it in my pocket.” Luke pauses and looks Aedyn in the eyes. “Unfortunately, it was destroyed when I fell into the river while going to the shipwreck we found Tyler in.”

  Aedyn stares at him dumbfounded, letting the information sink in. Luke is pleasantly surprised when the priest begins laughing softly. The small chuckles become rippling guffaws that bring tears to his eyes. At first, Luke nervously laughs along with Aedyn, but it isn’t long before he joins in the roaring laughter. Luke is wiping a tear from the corner of his eye when he feels a quick slap hit him in the stomach. The air gushes from his mouth as he topples backwards.

  “I deserved that,” Luke gasps once he catches his breath.

  “That was an important poem, which took me days to compose,” Aedyn says, his anger melting away. “I thought it was lost during my fight with that vampire.”

  Luke rubs at his gut and sits up again. “I remembered the poem, so I rewrote it when we reached Gods’ Voice. I was waiting for a good time to give it to you or an opportunity to sneak it back into your bags. With everything that’s happened, I never found the time.”

  “Thank you for rewriting the poem,” the priest says, clearing his throat and calming down. “I forgive you.”

  Luke begins to smile when the ground shakes and a loud explosion is heard from the other side of town. Screams of terror fill the air as Luke and Aedyn watch people retreat from the northern clearing where a pillar of smoke is rising. A few older men are rushing toward the source of the chaos with various blades clutched tightly in their white-knuckled hands. Aedyn is scrambling to his feet while Luke flips into the air and draws his sabers. The priest drops his satchel of scrolls, bending down to pick up his staff. He freezes and can only bring himself to let his gaze pass between his weapon and the excited forest tracker next to him.

  “What’s wrong, Aedyn? Nyx is there and needs our help,” Luke urgently insists. “Don’t stand there staring into space. If you’re worried that this is how the last battle started then I promise not to die.”

  “Sorry. A thought just occurred to me that I was not ready for,” Aedyn mentions with a forlorn look in his eyes. “I was thinking that this is probably our last battle together.”

  “Then, let’s make sure people talk about it for years,” Luke announces, grinning widely. With a friendly clash of their weapons, the half-elves sprint toward the sound of battle.

  *****

  “You do realize that we’re going to die, right?” asks Sari, who is nervously standing next to Nyx. She twirls a dagger in her right hand while flexing her left hand.

  “All we have to do is hold them here until help arrives,” Nyx declares, grinning toward the far side of the vast clearing.

  “There are some strong warriors in this town, so maybe we should try to send a message to them,” the gypsy suggests.

  Nyx’s hands erupt into rolling flames. “The battle will get their attention.”

  A maddening screech from a hundred decaying throats shreds the air as Kalam’s forces storm into the clearing. Nyx can’t stop herself from being morbidly impressed by the new army that Kalam created. Zombies of several races charge toward the town with their furious master hovering above them. Diminutive halflings and goblins lead the attack with their mangled, decaying limbs dragging behind them. Scaly giltris, chunks torn from their bodies, stumble along and leave a path of foul-smelling drool behind them. Galloping around the easter
n edge of the clearing is a trio of rotting centaurs, wielding rusty spears. A troll with only half of its left-side head stomps through the mass of zombies in time to get a smoking hole blasted through its chest by Nyx. The creature looks down at its gaping wound before continuing to move toward the half-elf.

  “You made him mad,” Sari says with a nervous laugh.

  “I don’t want to waste my energy on the weak ones,” Nyx claims, taking a cautious step backwards.

  “I can take the hint,” the gypsy mutters. She pulls an elegant stiletto from her boot and rushes at the troll. The gypsy rolls under the large, swinging paw and slashes at its hamstrings, which sends the large zombie stumbling forward.

  With Sari handling the zombies, Nyx sends a wave of fire at Kalam who is floating over the river. Flicking his wrist, the vampire cuts her spell in half with his staff. Nyx covers herself in a protective shell before a bolt of lightning lances out of Kalam’s eyes. It harmlessly bounces off the sparkling aura around her body, but the impact shatters the shell and sends her skidding several feet away. The half-elf staggers to her feet with steam wafting off her. She is about to take a step toward Kalam when the ground beneath her turns bright red. Nyx launches herself as far as she can with a gust of wind an instant before a geyser of magma erupts from the ground. Again, the half-elf is sent sailing along the ground, coming to a stop at the high-heeled feet of a very satisfied Trinity.

  “You seem to be having fun,” the chaos elf says, a friendly grin on her face.

  “Every time you catch me off-guard, you refuse to kill me,” Nyx groans, getting to her feet.

  Trinity shrugs nonchalantly. “I enjoy our battles, Nyx. Killing you without a fight wouldn’t sit well with me.”

  Nyx lets her body relax, matching Trinity’s demeanor. “It’s too late for you to take my place.”

  “Oh, I no longer care about that,” Trinity mentions with a fake yawn. “Looks like your friends are here.”

  Nyx follows Trinity’s gaze to see Aedyn turn two human zombies into charred bones with a blast of light. The priest spins his staff before planting it in the skull of a third zombie. A sudden wave of decaying bodies blocks the priest from view, but she can still see small blasts of light every few seconds. It takes Nyx a little longer to find Luke who is battling on the edge of the clearing. A centaur zombie is already on the ground behind him with all of its legs severed at the knees. It is feebly trying to drag itself to Luke who is jumping and slashing at one of the remaining centaurs. The forest tracker sidesteps a quick thrust from the centaur’s spear and rolls away from its stomping hooves. A sickening crunch fills the air as the hooves splinter the chest of the legless centaur. Luke charges at the zombie, suddenly sliding between its front legs to gut the decaying beast. The centaur zombie collapses onto its side where Luke cleanly slices its head off. Nyx stops watching as Luke rushes off to battle the last centaur zombie.