Mother of Wolves (Evalyce Worldshaper Book 1)

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Mother of Wolves (Evalyce Worldshaper Book 1) Page 3

by J. Aislynn d' Merricksson


  “Amaterasu, you said last night that you were the seer of the Cove Rock Clan. I would like to do a scrying, to try and find some answers or at least a starting point. I would appreciate your help. Two minds are always better than one,” she said. The wyvern nodded.

  If you can scry by fire, Lady Mage, then I can help. I'm sorry to say, I know no other way.

  “Fire is fine. And it's just Kalla.” the mage replied absently, turning her gaze to the doors as she sensed Aleister heading back their way. He trudged across the paddock grounds, his arms laden with bags and packages. Kalla went to meet him and collected some of the packages.

  “I see you're awake, milady. Did you recover your strength?” he asked.

  “Aye, I did. It never takes long. And it's just Kalla! Why do all of you insist on calling me anything but that,” she grumbled. Kalla followed her magister up the steps, turning back to the wyvern before going into the ship. “Give me a bit, Amaterasu, and we can begin. Breakfast wouldn't hurt first.”

  “Begin what…?” The Sky Fox's voice was weary. He took the supplies from her and began stashing them in the necessary compartments.

  “Amaterasu and I are going to do a fire scrying, to seek out the cause of this.” She caught his frown. “Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm fully recovered. You, however, should get some sleep.” Kalla paused for a moment and her voice was soft when next she spoke. “Thank you for keeping watch. I will try my best to not overdo things in the future. I've gotten so used to it just being me.”

  Aleister had gone still while she'd been speaking. Kalla felt a bit of fear through the bond, but mostly she felt a sadness. He quelled it quickly, burying it behind his mental shields. Kalla had to admit- he was getting better at keeping his emotions from spilling over too much.

  “Bloody wyvern,” he muttered under his breath, turning back to the kitchen area.

  “Yes, Amaterasu did tell me you'd been up all night, but I would have figured it out anyway. Your mind is grumpy when you're tired,” she laughed. The Sky Fox gave her an indignant look.

  “I am not grumpy,” he huffed. She laughed again, the sound ringing through the ship.

  “I rest my case. Go relax a bit. I can fix our breakfast. I do know my way around these ships, remember?” she chided gently. Aleister turned over the kitchen to her, grumbling as he made his way to the front, where he flopped down in the captain's chair. Within minutes he was dozing peacefully and Kalla didn't have the heart to wake him when she was finished making breakfast. Instead she conjured a covered tray, charmed it to keep the food hot, and left it on the counter.

  Kalla found Amaterasu at the far end of the paddock, where the wyvern had already collected a pile of debris together. When she saw Kalla approaching she swelled up and spat flame at the pile, igniting a roaring bonfire.

  I trust this will be satisfactory, Lady Mage.

  “It's perfect. Will you allow me to link my mind to yours? That will make things go more smoothly,” Kalla said. When the wyvern nodded assent, Kalla reached out and put a hand on the muzzle before her, sending a bit of her own essence to join with Amaterasu's in a simple scrying link. Thus bonded, the two settled before the fire, letting the hypnotic flames lull them into a trance. Scenes began to form in the dancing flames - people with tranquilizer rifles, sneaking into the lands of the wyvern, impaling them with the spikes. They melted away and were replaced by scenes of the same wyvern clans attacking skycities all around the world of De Sikkari. One city, though it managed to take out all of its assailants, still fell to the flames of destruction.

  Kalla recognized it. The skycity of Ben'talen had been completely destroyed.

  They saw Argoth's response, the great flagships with smaller strike-fighters swarming around them. Few of the skycity's attackers managed to get near enough to do damage to the land itself. Kalla recognized the flagships Kujata, Fenrir, Barghast and Tengu, as well as the Grand Flagship Phoenix.

  Skycity after skycity they saw, most faring as Sevfahl had. There were other scenes in which humans spiked land-bound creatures and set them to attacking ground cities. Some fell, some survived. More of those attackers survived, running off into the wilds to nurse their wounds.

  The scene shifted again, coalescing into images of a statue of monolithic proportions, whose eyes glowed with a radiant malevolence. Coil upon mythril coil glittered in the dark light. Another shift and they saw the same great creature, a Nagali, alive and in the flesh. A winged warrior drove home a spear whose tip was bound in parchment, impaling the beast in the heart, turning it to mythril. Images of a white feather, a palace in the mountains, a spear with a two-foot point. Kalla knew without knowing, what they needed to find to use against the creature, that they would need to face the fearsome Nagali. The vision began to fragment, but the final image that came to the linked minds was of a terrible cataclysm and a land sunk beneath the waves.

  Slowly the two came back to themselves. Kalla broke the link and leaned against Amaterasu's side.

  “Mercy of Balgeras… if I understand right, the Nagali is waking. It was he who sent the humans to the wyvern and the wyvern to their deaths in the sky,” she breathed. Amaterasu growled, a long, low sound.

  Al'dhumarna. Bound aeons ago on the Isle of Whispers. If he truly be waking, then we are in terrible danger. It is the Nagali's delight to cause havoc and destruction. We must recreate the binding of old, in order to stop him.

  “But how… in the legends the Nagali was bound by a scroll penned by the Elephant Lord, using the Quill of Ma'at. The white feather. And by using the weapon called Grael's Fang, said to be forged from a tooth of the Dragon Goddess herself. I have no idea where to even begin looking for such mythic artifacts.”

  Kalla paused, thoughtful. “We should consult Gasta, the Keeper of the Deep Forest on Argoth. If any can point us in the right direction, it will be the Keeper.”

  Skycity Sevfahl, 10000ft above the Aeryth Ocean, Year of the Golden Hart, 2013 CE

  Kasai watched from his perch atop the highest ramparts of the Inferno as his scapegoat walked back across the paddocks to the Argosian ship. He chuckled to himself. Now that had been a lucky break, finding another trespasser to take the fall for him after he'd carried out the assassination. Lucky break for the other, too, that the mage had come just in time to save him.

  The Arkaddian uncoiled his wiry frame, running a hand over a scarred face. Kasai favored the looks of his people, save for the fact that his right eye was the color of mahogany, glinting with red highlights in the light. The left eye had been taken long ago, in battle. All that was left was a milky orb that saw nothing. The scars were a source of pride, the mark of a true warrior. His shoulder length red-brown hair was pulled up in a traditional Arkaddian bob.

  Kasai was one of the Khan's Harriers, an elite group that served as guards, assassins, information gatherers. The Harrier adjusted the slender swords across his back and slipped away into the shadows, lips curling at the mere thought of the assassination he'd been forced to carry out. He'd bet good vykr that the order hadn't really come from the Khan himself, but had been instigated by the mage that came to Karokorum quite often of late. Kasai wondered who the other Arkaddian was and how he'd come to be on Sevfahl in the first place.

  Dashmar, Evalyce, Year of the Golden Hart, 2013 CE

  Merryn crept quietly down the smooth stone corridor and edged into a small work chamber off the left. It was the middle of the night and the room was lit only by a pair of gently flickering glowlamps. A small furnace stood in one corner, the door slightly open, radiating heat into the workroom. The lamps cast eerie dancing shadows along the walls and floor, making it seem as if the night air itself were alive.

  A long, low table ran the length of one wall, tools arranged neatly over it. A handful of uncut gems- sapphires, rubies, emeralds, diamonds, even a single multi-hued zarconite- were piled upon a velvet pouch, glittering in the dim light like dragons' scales. Merryn froze as the man sitting hunched over the table sat back and stretche
d, running a hand through thick blond curls, before returning to his work.

  Absorbed in his project, he gave no indication that he heard her enter and Merryn curled up quietly in the far corner. From her vantage point the area before him was visible and she could see that he was painstakingly shaping an emerald. The man was Merryn's husband, but the marriage had been purely political. She gave a barely audible sigh. She'd tried, she really had, to make things work, but he paid her little mind. Small wonder that he didn't notice her the occasions she did sneak into the workroom. She knew he would probably be angry if he found her, especially this time of the night, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to be close to him. And she could hope things improved… Merryn watched him work and wove dreams of a happier future until she fell asleep, propped against the wall.

  The blond-haired man slipped the jeweler's loupe from thin-rimmed glasses and let it fall to thump dully against his chest. He took it from around his neck and tucked it away into its proper place. The glasses quickly followed suite. Running his hands over his face, he yawned. Hours had slipped away during his crafting. Trapped in the depths of the caverns, he had little idea of the true time but he suspected it was early morning. Putting his tools away, he surveyed his final product- a leaf-shaped emerald set into a ring base. It winked green fire at him as he turned it this way and that, assessing the soundness of it.

  Satisfied, he put the ring into a velvet pouch containing a similar one cut from carnelian and tucked the pouch into his robes. Rising stiffly, he turned to leave and heaved a sigh as he realized his young wife was sound asleep in the corner. Usually he heard her enter, even though he rarely acknowledged it, but tonight he'd been too lost in his work.

  There were times when he wondered why he had agreed to the marriage to begin with. Among a people to whom such alliances mattered not at all, theirs was an unusual partnership indeed. A very surprising and unlikely one whose proposal had thrown him off guard. Merryn deserved more than a man with the chains he bore about his neck, but he'd needed to keep this particular alliance and so he found himself with a young woman nearly ten years his junior, whom he had no idea what to do with.

  He didn't imagine that Merryn was very happy with her situation either, given that his attitude towards her tended to be brusque to the point of disdain, but she seemed drawn to him like a moth to flame so often did she creep into his workroom. It wasn't that he hated her. Far from it. It had simply been so long since he'd cared about anything that his heart had forgotten how. Stifling a twinge of regret, he carefully picked her up. Merryn made a small noise of protest at being moved and burrowed her head against him. With a deep breath, she lapsed once more into sleep. Carrying her back to their room, he tucked her beneath the blankets and collapsed into exhausted slumber beside her.

  Seeking Gasta

  Stymphalian, 10000 ft. above the Aeryth Ocean, Year of the Golden Hart, 2013 CE

  Kalla yawned, shifting position in the gunner's seat. She glanced out the window, smiling at the sight of Amaterasu's graceful swooping around the ship. The wyvern had had no trouble keeping pace with the strike-fighter, even over long distances.

  As they approached the outermost boundaries of Argoth's skyspace, they were greeted by the flagship Kujata, strike-fighters swarming around her like bees around a hive. Static crackled on the radio.

  “This is the Imperial Flagship Kujata. Identify yourselves.”

  Aleister gave her a wry look.

  “So much for blending in,” he said, reaching for the radio. “This is the Stymphalian, requesting permission to enter Argosian skyspace. We have business on the mainland. The wyvern is with us!” The last was added hastily when he noticed several of the fighters were making a beeline for Amaterasu. His message must have been relayed, as they broke off and went back to circling the flagship.

  “Argoth's boundaries are closed. No one is allowed through.” The voice sounded apologetic. Kalla gestured for the radio and Aleister turned it over.

  “This is Kalla kyl'Solidor, of House Solidor. I have urgent need to reach Argoth. If needed, send an escort with us, but we must reach the mainland.” There was a long pause before the radio came to life again, and when it did it was no less than the Kujata's Admiral himself.

  “Lady kyl'Solidor, this is Admiral Ventaal Karlgraffsson. We must acquire permission of the Phoenix before we allow you to pass. Please bring your ship into the Kujata.”

  “Thank you, Admiral. We shall do so.” Kalla put the radio back as Aleister guided the ship into one of the Kujata's numerous docking bays, passing easily through the airshield that kept the workers safe when the bay doors were open. Strike fighters of many different classes filled the bay in neat, orderly rows. The bay flagmen guided them to an empty spot and Aleister snugged the Stymphalian into place as neatly as one of the military pilots might have. The flagmen gave nods of approval.

  Amaterasu had followed them inside, but hung back by the hanger doors. The Argosians in the hanger gave her a wide berth, nervous as horses near fire to be in the presence of the great creature.

  An aide scurried up to Kalla and Aleister, bowing to them.

  “Greetings Lady kyl'Solidor. Admiral Karlgraffsson will see you in the great-room,” he murmured. Kalla gave Amaterasu a wave, which the wyvern returned with a solemn nod, and turned to follow the aide. The great-room lived up to its name. It was a large room containing an immense table of burnished oak surrounded by plush chairs. The Admiral was at the far end of the room. He looked up as they entered and dismissed the aide, who snapped a salute and left.

  “Well, well. If it isn't little Kally returned home.” Ventaal had dropped all pretense of formality once the aide had left. Hazel eyes twinkled in delight and he wrapped her in a bear hug when they reached him. Kalla chuckled to herself as she felt Aleister's alarm.

  “What brings you back to Argoth, Kalla? Official business for the Kanlon?” Ventaal turned to regard Aleister. “And who is this fine, young gentleman?”

  “Something like that, Ventaal. This is Aleister, my magister,” she replied. Ventaal gave the Sky Fox a hearty handshake and an appraising look.

  “Magister, huh. So they finally made you get one?” the Admiral asked in a jovial voice. Ventaal turned back to Aleister. “I don't envy you, son. You're going to have your hands full.”

  Kalla could fairly hear Aleister's teeth grinding.

  “Yessir, I've already figured that out,” he muttered. Ventaal laughed and Kalla turned a scathing look on the pair of them.

  “If you two are quite done now… perhaps we might discuss business?” Kalla growled, earning more muted laughter.

  “How long do you think it will take to get permission for us to travel to Argoth, Ventaal. We need to go to the Deep Forest,” Kalla asked.

  The Admiral shuddered. “Why on earth would you want to go there, Kalla?”

  “Argoth was not the only skycity assaulted, Admiral. We seek answers as to the 'why' and I believe I may find some with the Keeper of the Forest.”

  “It shouldn't take too long, not with the request coming from a mage, though we will likely have to escort you in, especially with the company you keep. Why do you have one of those beasts with you?”

  Kalla sank into one of the plush chairs and told her friend of the events at Sevfahl and her healing of Amaterasu. While the Admiral was pondering over what they had told him, the intercom came to life.

  “Admiral? The Phoenix has granted our request. We are to send a quarti-talon of fighters with them in escort.”

  “Very well. Advise the pilots to make ready.” Ventaal turned to Kalla. “I assume you'll want to leave right away?”

  “Yes, Admiral, that would be nice. The sooner, the better. I want answers.”

  “Just so. I hope you find them.” Vetaal wrapped her in another hug. “Take care, Kally.”

  The Admiral turned to shake Aleister's hand again. “It's been a pleasure to meet you, Aleister.” His look turned serious. “Take good care of her, m
agister.”

  The Admiral himself led them back to the hanger. He gave their ship a once-over as they crossed the bay to the Stymphalian.

  “Kruetzet-class. Good ships. I'm not even going to ask how you managed to get your hands on one.” Ventaal slapped the side of the ship affectionately. He started to walk away, then turned back, an odd look on his face. “I could swear I've seen this ship before.” He waved the thought away and bid the pair farewell. “Good journey and good luck, Lady Kalla!”

  Kalla returned a wave and a nostalgic smile, before climbing the Stymphalian's stairs. Ventaal had been one of her father's dearest friends. He had been as close as family before Kalla had gone to the Kanlon and seeing the Admiral again brought back painful memories and the guilt that she had never gotten to say 'good-bye'. The mage sank down into the gunner's chair without a word, lost in thought.

  Aleister powered the ship back up and smoothly lined up to follow their escort out the doors, casting a worried glance at his broody companion. Kalla kept to her thoughts as they traveled the final distance to Argoth. Aleister's soft, lilting voice drug her from her reverie as they approached the skycity.

  “We are here, milady.”

  The mage looked up to see the skycity loomed ahead of them. Though called 'skycity', Argoth was in fact a sky continent, an Empire ruled by House Sykes. It was strange to be back home. Kalla had not set foot on Argoth since she had left to become a mage. She had not even returned after she had become a full maester and was free to leave the Kanlon on her own. Her father had been missing and declared dead many years by that time and returning was too painful for her. It still was, but now it was necessary.

  Kalla became more watchful as the great guns of the Outer Wall tracked them, ready to take them down if they proved hostile. The Trinity Claw banners of House Sykes snapped and fluttered all along the length of the great Wall. In the distance she could just make out another of the great flagships, with its attendant swarm of fighters. By the shape, it looked to be the Fenrir.

 

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