Fallout (Tales of the Other Universe Book 2)

by J. G. Taschereau

  “I won’t argue with you there,” said Dee. “But you’ll still miss it when you’re gone.”

  “Nah, I’d get over it. Besides, if I did get homesick I could always come back like you did.”

  “Yeah, except I came home by accident.”

  “But you wanted to come back eventually,” Pollus said. “With your—oops.” She stuffed the rest of her roll in her mouth to muffle herself after misspeaking again, but Dee wasn’t bothered.

  “It’s okay, Pollus,” Dee said. “It’s not like I can’t talk about him. I was prepared to have everyone in the village ask about my master as soon as I walked through the gate.”

  “Oh,” Pollus said, still feeling guilty. “So what are you going to do then? Are you still going to try and find him?”

  Dee shook her head. “The Creator told me that for whatever reason he doesn’t want to be found. I don’t know why, but it’s really his decision and I shouldn’t force him to come back if he doesn’t want to. He’s happy wherever he is.”

  “Oh come on, Diatyallah,” Taman taunted. “Since when are you one to give up on anything? I bet you could convince your master to come back. I mean, what about your happiness? Don’t you want him to come home?”

  “Well of course I do, Taman,” Dee said. “But I would never try to get him to come back if he didn’t want to.”

  “I don’t mean to sound rude, but it just seems like such a waste,” said Pollus. “You spent all that time looking for him, and you just let him go before you can even find him and talk to him yourself.”

  “Yeah, maybe he’d change his mind if he knew how hard you worked just to find him.”

  Dee sighed. “Look, it would be nice if I could convince my master to come back. But even if he did want to come home, I can’t really try to convince him right now. The only one who can get me to him is the Creator, and I don’t know what happened to him.”

  “Well maybe he doesn’t know where you are,” Pollus said. “Maybe if you pray to him he’ll listen and come find you.”

  “Pollus, the Creator Most High wouldn’t not know where Diatyallah is. He’s all knowing.”

  “Well maybe he just thinks she ran away.”

  “Diatyallah wouldn’t run away from the Creator Most High, dummy.”

  Dee laughed sheepishly. “Actually, that may have been what happened.” The other two hung their mouths open. “Well, what was I supposed to do? He disappeared and Greg was leaving, so I decided to go with him.”

  “Oh right, that mopey guy,” Taman recalled. “So you picked him over the Creator Most High?”

  “Don’t think of it like that,” Dee said.

  “How else should I think of it?”

  Dee had no comeback and whipped her hair back in frustration. “Ok, so maybe I did. But with all Greg’s going through now I couldn’t just leave him alone, especially after all we’ve been through together. That’s why I’m going to keep going with him to Khanka.”

  “You are?” Pollus asked, growing distressed. “But you just got back. Why do you have to go so soon?”

  “Greg’s in a very bad situation. I didn’t mention it earlier, but things aren’t going well in his kingdom. There was a coup and he was forced out. Now he needs to find as much support as he can in order to take it back.”

  “I thought you said he was close to the Creator? Why not ask him for help?” asked Taman.

  “I would if I knew where he had gone,” said Dee.

  “Diatyallah, he’s the Creator Most High, he’s everywhere all the time,” Pollus said. “You just need to call out to him. He’ll come find you, won’t he?” She leaned forward as much as she could towards the edge of the ridge and cupped her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. “Hey, Your Holiness! Diatyallah Gatti is here in Erebia Village and she needs your help right now! You should come and save her before she runs off with that other guy again!”

  Dee hunched closer to Pollus and cast her an angry look. “Cut that out!”

  “Sorry,” Pollus said with a guilty smile. “Just trying to help.”

  Dee sighed in exasperation. Taman stretched her legs out over the rocky edge and looked up at the sky. “Too bad,” she said. “It’d be nice if the Creator really did answer prayers. I’m sure he has better things to do.” Dee didn’t answer her and kept her gaze down on the trees below.

  “Hey, Diatyallah,” Pollus said. “If the Creator really did show up right now and fix everything with that king, would that mean you’d stay here?”

  “I don’t know,” said Dee. “The Creator would probably want me to stay in his service, even if it was only supposed to be short term. I was going to stay with him once he told me my master didn’t want to be found, but so much has happened in the last 48 hours. I never expected that I would feel so good coming back home, but I wouldn’t want to disappoint him, or Greg for that matter.” She whined and let herself drop back onto the rock where they all sat. “I hate having to make such important decisions.”

  “Well, I may be a little biased, but I think you ought to stay home,” Pollus said. “Even if you need to help that Greg guy, after it’s all over, couldn’t you just come home?”

  “Yeah, but...” Dee whined again and trailed off.

  “She doesn’t want to leave Greg,” Taman said. Both of them stared at Dee. She reached for the brilliant blue gemstone on the necklace she had seldom removed since first receiving it four years earlier, holding it upwards to the sun. The light filled the facets of the stone and reflected outwards as she gave it a gentle twist.

  “I already failed my master,” said Dee. “I’d never forgive myself if I let Greg go too.”

  “Diatyallah, you’d better watch out. Your life is starting to turn into a sappy melodrama.”

  “Oh, shut up, Taman,” said Dee.

  The autumn wind blew up the mountainside from the valley, washing over the trio as they carried on with their girl talk. Far below on the forest floor, a swordsman gazed up through the top of the branches to the mountain he saw in the distance. A minute or so earlier he had heard the voice of a young woman carried down the mountainside. One of the men travelling with him approached from behind and followed his view up to the mountain.

  “Did you hear that too, Commander?” he asked.

  “Yes,” the swordsman said. “That’s the spot for sure. Keep the men in good spirits. We’ll reach the village just after nightfall.”

  “Yes, sir.” He walked back and rejoined the large group of men making their way through the woods. The aging swordsman inhaled the rich forest air before carrying on, leading his cohort of men in search of a man they had never expected to see again.

  Chapter 15

  In the Great Hall

  Adam reclined in the grass as he watched a group of mages create colored balls of light that floated around along the sides of the streets. As dusk came over the village, everyone was getting in the celebratory mood. A lot of people were coming out to join in the festivities, although Adam hadn’t seen the woman of the hour since she left that morning with her friends. He was starting to get anxious. His plan was to leave that night, but he couldn’t go without talking to Dee first and he had wanted to do that before the celebration began. It was starting to look like that wasn’t an option at this point.

  He got up and stretched his legs before walking in the direction that the villagers seemed to be heading in. At the far end of the village, there was a gathering hall that boasted a capacity over a thousand people, even though there weren’t nearly that many people in Erebia Village. Like the rest of the village’s structures, the great hall was a long, single story wooden building with a thatched roof. It was decorated outside by colorful banners and beautiful wooden sculptures of forest creatures, both the mundane and magical variety. Two urns burning with blue fire stood outside the gate of the hall as the happy people of the village filtered in, Adam trying his best to blend in along with them.

  The inside of the great hall seemed as busy as the mark
etplace in Takuda Central on a summer afternoon, and Adam couldn’t believe the number of people in attendance. Everywhere he looked there were mages young and old walking about, conversing or taking advantage of the bountiful feast laid out on tables in the middle of the hall. It seemed that the conquest over the boar had provided a good deal of food and might have not even been enough on its own. The mood was airy and festive, and with the lighting set at a comfortable glow the hall seemed warm and homey. It was a nice change of pace from the tiresome, stuffy political dinners that Adam had been required to hold in Magid. He affirmed that when he took the throne back from Oracle, he would make a few changes to such affairs.

  “Hey, stranger!” Adam turned around and saw Eben moving towards him with two steins filled to the rim with beer. Eben offered him one of the tall glasses, but Adam raised his hand up.

  “Oh come on, we’re celebrating!” Eben said, taking a long drink from the stein in his right hand. “Try some, it’ll lift your spirits.”

  “No, thank you,” said Adam. “I don’t partake. Besides, I need to start travelling tonight so I would do well not to get inebriated.”

  “You’re leaving already? It’s not because of Lady Baraluneska, is it? You don’t have to worry about her, I know you’re a good man. You’ve taken care of Diatyallah and brought her back safely to us. That makes you alright in my book.”

  “Well I appreciate that, Eben,” Adam said. “But I’m afraid I have business in the east that requires my attention. I’ll only be staying long enough to say my goodbyes to Dee. Have you seen her?”

  “Diatyallah? I think she’s in one of the back rooms getting ready for the performance.”

  Adam became curious. “What performance?”

  “It’s a traditional dance,” Eben explained. “She was asked to perform it by Lady Baraluneska. It’s quite interesting, so you should at least stay for that. Have yourself a drink while you’re at it! Eat, drink, and be merry, my friend. We won’t live forever.”

  Eben raised one of his glasses to Adam and moved back through the crowd. Adam watched him disappear and then headed towards the back end of the hall. If Dee was going to be involved in some kind of performance, he would be better off trying to talk to her first before she got caught up in the festivities. He didn’t get too far before he felt his jacket get caught on something at his waist level. Adam looked back and saw a bony hand gripping his jacket, tracing it back to the arm of Baraluneska. The old woman was wearing even more elaborate dress robes than she had the day before, but also seemed wearier than when Adam last left her.

  “What are you still doing here, Legend? Dragging your goodbye out isn’t going to help spare Diatyallah’s feelings, you know.”

  “I was on my way to find her before you stopped me,” Adam said.

  Baraluneska released him and huffed. “You put it off long enough. At this rate you’re going to ruin the good mood of the celebration.”

  “Well I didn’t intend to wait this long.”

  “No, but you didn’t mind putting it off either.”

  “Well of course not, I don’t want to have to do this,” Adam told her.

  Baraluneska frowned. “I’m aware, Legend. When the time comes, please choose your words carefully.”

  “Easier said than done.” Adam started to walk off but felt another tug at his jacket. He turned back around and shot Baraluneska a cross look. “What?”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To talk to Dee, obviously,” said Adam.

  “Absolutely not,” Baraluneska commanded.

  “Why not?”

  “Diatyallah will begin her performance soon. It’s too late to talk to her now. You would only distract her. You must wait until afterwards.”

  “Now who’s putting things off?”

  “You can wait an hour longer to say your farewells to my granddaughter. That’s an hour more in her company. I’m sure both of you would appreciate that, yes?”

  She released her grip on him and moved back among the clamoring crowd of people. Adam felt more and more frustrated with that woman every time he ran into her. But she had a point, and Adam accepted that. He didn’t intend to make things worse by upsetting Dee before her performance. He decided to take Baraluneska’s advice and enjoy the short time he had left in the place where Dee really belonged.

  The sounds and colorful displays coming from the celebration were invisible outside of the village gate. Under the moonlight, the mountaintop appeared as an empty field enclosed by a pointless fence. A few ambivalent goats remained awake, chewing their cud. They all had enough long hair to cover their bodies and protect them from the chilly night air. Even as a biting wind came over the field, the goats paid no mind. It was nothing new to them.

  One of the goats lifted his head, intrigued by a sound coming from the direction of the forest’s edge. An amorphous shape moved out of the trees, something larger than the usual group of mages that passed in and out of the field in small numbers. The goat bleated and alerted its kin of the coming danger and the animals scattered to the sides of the hill. What came from the forest paid no attention to the goats; it was not hunting them. The moonlight revealed the form of not one monstrous creature but an ensemble of men marching in position as they approached the top of the mountain.

  The leader of the group stopped and held his hand out, giving heed to the forward movement of his followers. The old swordsman narrowed his eyes and scanned the field ahead of him. In the darkness he had difficulty making out what he saw, but even without proper light he could see that there was no village ahead of them. One of the men behind him broke rank and stood beside him.

  “What’s going on, Commander?” the subordinate asked, staring at the emptiness ahead of him. “This is where the village is supposed to be, isn’t it?”

  “That was the plan,” the leader answered.

  “We must have gone the wrong way. There’s nothing here. We should go back before Evans gets away.”

  The older of the two walked ahead to the open gap of the fence. A breeze blew his dark, messy hair about as he stared at the empty field ahead. He sniffed the air that passed by him and narrowed his eyes. He detected the faint but unmistakable scent of pork. Slowly, he reached his hand out into the open gate and felt a solid form in the empty space. He moved his hand across the invisible wooden door and found the hidden metal latch, finding it locked in place.

  “Never underestimate the spellcasters, Goran,” he told his subordinate. “They’ll always find a way to get the best of you. Don’t let that happen tonight.” He motioned him over to the gate. As Goran stopped beside him, he grabbed the submachine gun holstered at his side and blew apart the latch. Goran flinched as the weapon unloaded while still hanging so close to him. The leader let the gun hang from its sling and kicked open the invisible gate, allowing the sound of the celebration in the distance to flow out of the false wall.

  “Let’s hurry along,” he said. “It would be better to make this quick.”

  Inside the great hall, Adam was doing his best to enjoy himself. He’d found a seat on one of the plush throw pillows that lined an elevated platform at the back end of the hall and had even removed his shoes. A young mage serving food during the party had offered him a crisp roasted dumpling from a platter which he took with gratitude. The filling had a delicious savory and salty blend of flavors that he enjoyed and readily took another when the serving girl passed by him soon after. While the strong Erebian beer seemed to flow in great quantity, Adam opted for goat’s milk instead. It had a sour taste, but he would rather have that over the alternative. Given how volatile things had been in the last two days, he didn’t want to risk his sound state by consuming alcohol. In the past he had learned his tolerance was very low, and in times before he removed his anger that drop in inhibitions often led to some poor man losing his life at Adam’s hands.

  Adam’s reservations were not found in the other celebrants, many of whom were seated with Adam alongsid
e the platform because they had grown too inebriated to stand. Others had come to sit in anticipation of the performance, which Adam had only recently figured out would be happening where he sat. He kept an eye out for Dee, but she was still nowhere to be seen. Someone came from the far end of the platform carrying a broad, shallow cauldron. The bearded wizard set it down with a heavy clunk in the center of the stage before reaching into his shirt and pulling out a stick that was like Dee’s wand.

  He held it out in front of him. “Eximo!” he called in a baritone voice. The stick glowed and grew, much larger than Dee’s wand, into a staff as tall as he was that had a polished wood look topped with a crooked notch. The wizard pointed the end of his staff at the cauldron and muttered, “Ignis flamma.” A fireball sparked at the end of the staff and launched into the black iron dish, fueling a fire that crackled and grew into a healthy flame.

  Curious, Adam leaned over to the woman seated beside him. “Excuse me, but what’s he doing?”

  “Setting up for the dance,” the witch answered.

  “Hm,” Adam hummed. “And that staff, that’s where he gets his magic from, right?”

  The woman gave him a curious look, only now realizing that she was sitting next to the strange man who had wandered into town. “The staff is the conduit between a mage and her magic, but not its source. They are used for casting spells.”

  “And why is it that some mages have staves like that and others have smaller wands?”

  “We mages all start off with wands,” she explained. “When we turn sixteen, we go through a ritual where we duel our masters to prove ourselves worthy of adulthood. When the master confers that right to his apprentice, her wand reflects that personal growth and becomes a staff.”

  Adam blinked. “I see. And are the staves more powerful than the wands?”