Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “I appreciate your kindness, but I don’t want my crew to think you’re going to do all the work. So, please excuse me for a second,” Captain Higgs politely says, stepping around Nyx and the crates. He takes a deep breath and his chest puffs out like a blue balloon. “Get back to work, you krill-sucking sponges! No crew of mine is going to let a passenger do all the work! Move it!”

  The crew of the Azure Goddess rush around the dock to grab supplies, many of them tripping over their own feet. An elven sailor tries desperately to choke down a mouthful of his breakfast as he picks up a heavy coil of rope. His face turns purple until a fellow sailor hits him on the back, sending the elf’s breakfast onto the dock and driving him to his knees. Gulls quickly swarm the area and become a problem for the crew, who are pecked if they get too close to the hungry birds. Through it all, Captain Higgs is doubled-over in laughter, holding his aching sides.

  “I’m going to have to reward them for this much entertainment,” he says in a gasping voice. He turns back to Nyx, who is failing to cover her chuckling behind her hand. “So, you talked to Willow and she knew about this?”

  “What? No, no, no. I talked to my birth mother about it,” Nyx casually replies with an ecstatic smile. She sees the confusion on Captain Higgs’ face and decides there is no point in playing with the old sailor. “Tzefira is my mother and my father is at Hamilton Military Academy. I found my birth parents and they’re not dead.”

  “Congratulations on finding your birth parents and on them not being dead,” the sea elf says, hiding his amusement at her childlike happiness. For the first time, he notices Nyx is practically bouncing on her toes and there is a subtle glow around her entire body. “You aren’t going to explode or something. I have yet to see a caster glow and not unleash some kind of spell. I trust you will miss my new ship if you do anything.”

  Nyx blinks in confusion before looking down at her body. “By Gola the Aura Queen, I didn’t even realizes I was doing this. I promise I won’t do anything to put you, your crew, or your ship in danger. I swear I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “The ship has some basic magical protection, which I requested if I ever had to escort a caster. Though, you might be too much for it,” the sea elf admits, glancing at his blue-sailed ship. “I learned a few things from our travels and I assumed we would meet again now that I work for Lady Kellia. She keeps her ears out for news of you. I think she’s a little lonely and bored in Gods’ Voice.”

  “Given Kellia’s personality, I can imagine she’s about ready to fight the guards for excitement,” Nyx says. She gets a whimsical expression look on her face as she remembers her brief time with the noble. “It’s funny how I think of my time with her and her doppelganger as easier days.”

  “You’re far too young to think like an old woman,” Captain Higgs points out, putting a webbed hand on her shoulder. “Kellia wanted me to deliver a message, Lady Nyx. She wants you to remain strong and to contact her if you ever need help that only a noble can give. She has heard of your trials in Hero’s Gate and feels you need to remember that you have friends in high places. Personally, I think she’s afraid you and Luke will have so much fun that you’ll forget her.”

  “You’re oddly insightful for someone who never seemed to care before,” Nyx whispers, a suspicious look in her eyes. She flexes her fingers and prepares a spell until a strong hand smacks her upside the head.

  “Don’t cast magic on your friends,” Tzefira snaps while Nyx crouches and holds her throbbing temples. “I apologize for her. We had a problem with shape-changing monsters that wanted to eat her. There’s talk of a few of them wandering around the forest, so she gets jumpy. I’m sure my daughter is sorry and was only trying to scare you into revealing your true form if you were one of the creatures.”

  “I wasn’t going to cast a spell,” the half-elf whines, rising to her feet. “My fingers were sore and I was stretching them. I don’t need my hands to cast anyway.”

  Tzefira shoots a doubting look at Nyx, who returns the expression with one of stubborn defiance. Captain Higgs eyes the mother and daughter, carefully noticing their similarities. The challenging postures with crossed arms and arched eyebrows are surprisingly identical, considering they only recently reunited. The amused sea elf wonders if such things pass down from parent to child while the two women shift their weight at the same time.

  “You two are definitely related,” Captain Higgs says with a hearty laugh. “I’m going to let you say your goodbyes while I prepare the ship. You have until the rest of your friends get here, Nyx, so don’t feel like you have to rush. I’m sure that gypsy girl will take longer to pack than I would like.”

  “I wasn’t going to cast a spell on you, Captain Higgs,” Nyx swears, her eyes locked on her mother. “It was a personal protection spell in case you were a krypter and attacked me.”

  “That doesn’t sound any better,” Tzefira whispers, behind her cupped hand.

  “I understand, Lady Nyx,” he responds, making a polite bow to the half-elf. “You’ve had a difficult time the last week or so and you’re still on edge. I was the same way after we parted ways. Every shadow was a demon or a chaos elf waiting to pounce.”

  Tzefira takes Captain Higgs by the arm and leads him away from Nyx. “You’re being far too understanding and nice after she made a mistake. I think it’s best for you to admit you’re offended.”

  “I’m not offended, milady, and I was being honest with her,” he responds with a charming smile. He pats the mercenary’s hand as he slips from her grasp. “I sense you’re unsure what to do with an adult daughter. The last time you saw her, she was a defenseless child and now she is a capable, powerful woman. You’re still protective of her because you only think of her as a child. As someone who has spent some time with Nyx, I assure you that her heart is always in the right place and she would never intentionally hurt those who didn’t deserve it.”

  “Actually, I don’t want you to baby my daughter,” Tzefira bluntly states, turning to go back to Nyx. “No daughter of mine is going to be treated like a helpless child.”

  “Your daughter is about as helpless as an enraged Verenstone Dragon,” the sea elf mutters as he heads to his ship.

  Nyx glares at Tzefira as the mercenary walks back to pinch her cheek and break her concentration. The sound of Captain Higgs yelling causes them to look back at the Azure Goddess where a halfling sailor is struggling to move a heavy crate up the gangplank. The sailor grunts and squeals until Captain Higgs gets tired of waiting and lifts the crate over his head. He swiftly kicks the halfling ahead of him and nods his head at the crow’s nest. With a quick salute, the curly-haired sailor clambers up the main mast and disappears among the sails and rigging.

  “What did you tell Captain Higgs?” Nyx asks Tzefira.

  “Nothing of importance,” she nonchalantly answers, shrugging and sitting on a pile of rope. “I guess this is where I tell you to eat well, bathe regularly, and don’t date any boys until I’m in the grave. Though, I think that last one is supposed to be said by your father. Maybe our family isn’t the type for sentimentality.”

  “Hard to say since we aren’t a family yet,” the half-elf bravely says, ignoring the flash of anger in Tzefira’s eye. “Dad still doesn’t know we’re alive and the two of us didn’t spend much time together. For all we know, we’re a sentimental family and we only need the chance to find out. We could be a very loving and kind.”

  “Keep that in mind when you meet your father,” Tzefira mentions with a stifled laugh. “I guess you’re going to force my reunion with that old fool.”

  Nyx smiles wide enough to show off her glistening teeth and gives Tzefira a hug. “That’s what a meddlesome daughter is for. I’m going to make sure you and dad talk to each other again. If you two get back together then that will be an even bigger victory for me.”

  “You aren’t very subtle about your motives,” the elven warrior whispers as she hugs Nyx back. “I can’t make any promises about what w
ill happen between your father and me. All I can tell you is our first few interactions won’t be . . . polite. We may become nothing more than friends who happen to have had a child together.”

  “Aren’t you and dad still married?” Nyx asks, breaking the hug and carefully watching Tzefira’s face.

  “Actually, we were never officially married,” her mother admits. She nervously adjusts her bandana even though she ends up pushing it back a second later. “In order for us to get certain individuals off our backs, we told people we were married. In reality, we were still deciding on if we were right for each other. I guess calling each other husband and wife became second nature after a year of doing it, so we didn’t feel like rushing. We were planning to wed when you were on the way to give you a sense of normalcy. Your father’s accident destroyed that plan, which made me very angry because I already had the dress made.”

  “So, I was the reason you were going to get married,” the half-elf softly claims, trying to figure out what this news means to her. “Then, where did I come from?”

  “I think you’re too old to be a panicky child,” Tzefira states, rubbing her forehead and fighting the temptation to smack Nyx in the head again. She smiles at the expression of embarrassment on the half-elf’s face. “You came from a night after we defended a town from a Crossbow Dragon and trolls. If it helps you sleep at night, we were entirely sober when we conceived you. We didn’t remember to be careful.”

  “I have no idea what to think of this,” Nyx admits, leaning against the stack of crates. “I guess after growing up believing my parents were dead, finding out that I wasn’t planned is a little painful.”

  “You were planned, Nyx. You simply showed up earlier than expected,” Tzefira says, her friendly grin making Nyx feel warm. “You’re really trying to milk the fact that you have a mother by putting me through everything I missed when you were growing up. You know, you can spare me some of the angst and grief.”

  Nyx fidgets with her necklace and takes a deep breath. She stares at Tzefira, her mind racing to remember everything she has ever wanted to say to the woman who gave her life. Nyx realizes she has regressed to the mentality of a nervous teenager and mentally kicks herself for being so foolish. With more effort than she would ever admit, Nyx quiets the thoughts that have plagued her mind since she was a child. Yet, a single, terrifying question echoes in her mind and she bravely decides to give it voice. To be safe, she steps out of Tzefira’s reach and readies a shield spell.

  “Did you and dad really love each other?” she asks in a nervous voice.

  “Hey, Nyx!” Luke shouts, interrupting Tzefira before she can respond. He is about to approach them when Nyx growls at him, her body covering itself in rolling flames. “I’ll stay out of earshot and wait to be called over.”

  “I want an answer,” Nyx demands as the flames vanish. She points a finger at her mother. “You owe me an answer for dad.”

  “It’s a ridiculous question,” Tzefira stubbornly contends. From Nyx’s furious scowl, she can see that the half-elf refuses to give up. “Of course, your father and I loved each other. He was the only man who could handle my temper and I was the only woman who could handle his bullheadedness. We were . . . are a perfect match. You are evidence enough of that. Are you satisfied?”

  “Yes,” Nyx replies with a grin. “I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

  Tzefira tosses a thick bracelet to Nyx, who clumsily juggles it until she catches the piece of jewelry with both hands. The bracelet is made from a dull gray metal and there are three grooves running along its polished surface. Magically enhancing her eyesight, Nyx can see crushed gems shimmer within the grooves. She clips the bracelet to her left wrist and feels a tickling surge of aura course through her arm. Looking up to ask Tzefira about the gift, she is shocked to see her mother swinging a shortsword at her. Before she can cast a spell, her left arm is magically yanked into the air where the bracelet blocks the weapon. Her arm throbs with dull pain from the impact and it takes a second to move the limb again. She notices that Tzefira’s shortsword is stuck in the air, the mercenary blinking rapidly.

  “It’s a defensive item I kept from my caster days,” Tzefira explains, gradually sheathing her weapon and taking Nyx’s hand. She runs her fingers along the grooves and up her daughter’s numb arm. “I call it a stun bracelet because it stuns the wearer and the attacker. It only works against regular melee weapons and minor magic weapons, so it won’t block arrows or spells. Be careful because it can’t block quickly, so multiple enemies will be a problem. I suggest block one and attack the others. For me, the impact prevented me from casting magic, but it gave me time to put some space between me and my attacker. Given your ability to cast magic without gestures and incantations, you can probably do a minor attack spell.”

  “Actually, I couldn’t feel my aura after you struck the bracelet,” Nyx claims. She flexes her left hand until a small flame appears on her palm. “It reminds me of the feeling I get after I use my crossbow. This doesn’t feel as severe, but it means I would have to run or strike back with my mourning star.”

  Tzefira reaches out to inspect the bracelet for a minute before shrugging and releasing Nyx’s arm. “I wish I had an answer. You should ask your teachers the next time you’re in Gaia. They would understand your magic better than me. I can only guess it has something to do with your aura interacting with the aura of the bracelet, but I’m stumped beyond that.”

  “Can I turn it off?” Nyx asks, turning the bracelet on around her wrist. “I don’t want this thing to go off if Sari tries to hit me with a pillow or Luke tries to tap me on the shoulder with one of his sabers.”

  “Place the bracelet against your lips and say pineapple to turn it on and off,” Tzefira answers. She swiftly puts a finger against Nyx’s lips as they quiver with blossoming laughter. “I made this bracelet during my training. It was my graduation project and I was eating pineapple when I finished it. It’s smarter to make activation words people don’t say in daily conversation. Now, what do you have to say?”

  “Thanks, mom,” Nyx whispers, her breathing fluttering from holding back her laughter. “I’m very happy I found you. I promise dad will behave when he contacts you.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Tzefira warns her. She realizes they are simply delaying the inevitable and pulls her daughter in for a final, tight hug. “Goodbye, Nyx, and always remember I love you. I will never abandon you again and I will try to be polite to your father.”

  “That’s all I ask,” Nyx says against her mother’s shoulder. She can feel a few of Tzefira’s tears fall onto her cheek while she soaks her mom’s shirt with her own tears. “I’ll talk to you every chance I get. If I get into trouble that I think you will hear about, I’ll let you know I’m safe and in control. I don’t want you to worry about me. I love you, mom.”

  The hug lasts for a while and is broken by Tzefira, who moves her arm around Nyx’s shoulder. She is about to lead her daughter to the ship when she spies Luke patiently waiting nearby. With a gentle squeeze on Nyx’s arm, the mercenary walks away and approaches the young warrior. He immediately stands at attention as if she is still his commanding officer.

  “You’re an intrusive troublemaker, Luke Callindor,” she declares in a low voice that only he can hear. “It’s that quality that reunited me with my daughter and will introduce her to her father. For making my family whole again and being Nyx’s friend, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Please continue to protect her and be there when she needs a friend.”

  “I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Luke claims with a charming smile. “Nyx is my big sister and my best friend. Gabriel himself couldn’t tear me away from her side.”

  Tzefira extends her hand for Luke to shake and he happily takes the offer. It is a firm handshake that makes his fingers ache, but he hides his discomfort. He is relieved when she lets go and returns to escort Nyx to the ship. Luke takes a seat next to a group of barrels and makes himself
comfortable.

  “Aren’t you coming?” Nyx asks when she looks back.

  “I’m going to wait for Timoran and Sari,” Luke answers, waving her toward the ship and smirking. “They should be here any minute. It isn’t like Sari can get into any trouble packing, especially if Timoran is with her.”

  *****

  Timoran gets his axe up in time to deflect the dagger, which slams harmlessly into the ceiling. He frowns at the daggers sticking out of the walls, the furniture, and floor of his old room. With a tired sigh, he reaches into his money pouch and leaves three diamond spheres on the dresser to cover the damages. Another dagger strikes the wall to his left, causing him to turn his attention back to his guests.

  “I’ve had it with you!” Sari screams as she spins her stiletto in one hand and a curved dagger in the other. “You push me away and vanish without saying goodbye. Then I find you waiting here. Stand still so I can kill you!”

  “You have every right to be angry,” Kayn admits, bouncing on his toes so he can dodge quickly. His hand is gripping the hilt of a simple-looking bastard sword strapped to his back. “I was going to leave, but the man who gave me the reflector blade told me things I needed to share with you. He knew about the rainbow shawl and the dangers that you’re heading into. I had to return to warn you and ask that you take me with you for extra protection.”

  “Stop with the daggers, little one,” Timoran calmly says, catching both of Sari’s wrists in one hand. He lifts her into the air where she growls and glares at the barbarian. “Kayn wishes to help us and he has important information. If you kill him then we will not be able to hear what he has to say. More importantly, you are damaging my old room and I have to leave money for the repairs.”

  “Sorry, Timoran,” the gypsy apologizes, going limp in his hand and dropping her daggers. “I promise to behave.”