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

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “That’s great, but that wasn’t my question,” Luke mentions. He puts his hands on Nyx’s shoulders, but is shoved away by a gust of wind.

  “You and Timoran take one of the pies to the tree,” she demands, punching at the ground in frustration. “Delvin and I will stay here with the other pie. Fizzle can follow its scent to get back here quickly and you two are fast enough to keep up with him. I should be healthy by the time you get back. It’s only some backlash.”

  “We just want to know what happened,” Timoran says after helping Luke to his feet.

  “I looked at something I shouldn’t have!” Nyx exclaims, pointing a fiery finger in the direction of her friends’ voices. “Now, get going, so we can help Sari and Kayn!”

  Delvin nods to Luke and takes a seat next to Nyx. The forest tracker still looks lost and confused as Timoran gently guides him away. They travel in silence for most of the ten miles with Luke repeatedly glancing over his shoulder as if he can still see Nyx and Delvin. His brow is creased with furrows of worry that deepen the longer he goes without a sign that she has recovered. Eventually, Timoran gives the half-elf a friendly punch in the arm.

  “You are a true friend,” the barbarian declares with a laugh. “It is rare that somebody cares so much about a person who is not their kin.”

  “Nyx is as much my kin as my actual family,” Luke says, sounding slightly annoyed. He clears his throat, hoping to soften his voice. “You care about your friends as much as I do, so don’t talk to me about being rare.”

  “I said you were rare, Luke. I did not say you were one of a kind,” Timoran contends. He shifts the cooling pie to his other hand and flexes his stiff fingers. “Maybe that is what connects us as champions. All of us possess the ability to care deeply about those who are not our family. You, Nyx, and Sari have developed a familial unit that has already absorbed me into it. It is like we are becoming a family out of instinct, which is unusual if one ignores our destiny.”

  “So, you think we’re destined to be friends?” Luke asks. He is unable to hide his dislike of the idea, which causes Timoran to stop smiling. “It isn’t that I don’t like you, Timoran, but you’re suggesting that Gabriel designed our relationships. That means we have no free will in any of this. I could accept being destined to battle Baron Kernaghan, but being destined to become friends with people feels . . . forced.”

  “I think you are looking at this too simplistically,” Timoran politely says. He takes in a big sniff of the rich forest scent to help compose his thoughts. “It is said that Gabriel only controls so much because mortals have free will. He can create the major conflicts and events of a person’s life, but the details are left to chance. It is possible that in forging our destinies, he gave us a greater ability to care for others. After all, our primary goal is to save Windemere and that will require a vast amount of compassion. It would make sense that this compassion would influence our connection to each other. We are to be brothers and sisters in a great battle, which means we need to develop an unbreakable bond. There is no stronger bond than family, so it is natural we would gravitate to that type of relationship.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Luke stubbornly insists. “You’re saying Gabriel created our personalities, which means we’re nothing more than what he made us.”

  “This argument can go on forever,” Timoran whispers with a sigh. He is quiet for several seconds while he watches Luke walk next to him. “Do you believe we are shaped by the major events of our lives?”

  “Of course.”

  “Who is typically responsible for those events?”

  “Gabriel.”

  “Do you think he knows exactly how a mortal will change?”

  “No.”

  “Then put it all together for me.”

  Luke casts a sideways glance at Timoran and rolls his eyes. “Gabriel can’t predict how people will grow and react because of free will. So, while he creates the major events of our lives, he isn’t responsible for how we learn from them. For example, Sari could have become a bitter, introverted shell after losing her clan. Instead, she has set out to make others happy and forge a new clan with us. It’s what Nyx had been doing until she found her real parents.”

  “I am sure Nyx will continue turning the champions into a family,” Timoran says with a warm smile. “She is certainly the protective, motherly type, if you pay close attention to her words and actions. There are times I am reminded of a mother scolding her children when she talks to you and Sari.”

  Luke is about to respond when they step around a towering oak and find themselves in front of the birch tree. Its trunk is slender and splits into several flexible branches that are covered in red and yellow leaves. A robin is singing in the lower branches and a hungry woodpecker can be heard hunting the higher trunk for insects. Luke and Timoran stare at the tree, hoping to see where Fizzle is slumbering. The longer they examine the birch, the more blurry and confusing the mess of branches and leaves becomes.

  “Give me the pie,” Luke whispers, holding out his hands. He gently takes the apple pie from Timoran and steps away. “Be ready for a lot of noise and action if this goes the way I think it will. Fizzle gets very excited around apples and anything made from apples, especially pastries. It’s like calling a lightning bolt in for dinner.” Luke takes a deep breath and turns to the birch tree. “Fizzle! It’s Luke Callindor and I brought you an apple pie from Betty’s kitchen!”

  A strong wind whips at the tree, causing Luke to tense in preparation of being tackled by the drite. Instead, the wind dies down and silence covers the forest. Timoran watches the sky and trees, his senses on edge as he waits for any sign of the drite. Luke continues to stand with the pie held in front of him until his arms tire from the tense, unflinching position.

  With an exaggerated exhale, Luke lowers his arms to place the apple pie on the grass. A sudden weight drops on the far edge of pie pan, sending him crashing to the ground. Luke’s face goes into the pie, which is being gobbled up by an invisible creature. He laughs as he feels a long tongue licking the apple and crust off his face. The creature leaves a thin layer of sweet-smelling dragon drool on his skin, which he wipes on his sleeve.

  “Fizzle miss pie!” the drite declares, flying into the air. He materializes in front of Timoran, who jumps back from the purple-scaled creature. Fizzle zips around the barbarian with his red, translucent dragonfly wings nothing more than blurs at his sides. Several times, his long tail touches Timoran’s arms and head as the curious drite examines him.

  “This is Timoran Wrath,” Luke says with a smile. “He’s our new friend. He’s going to be traveling with us from now on.”

  “Why he so big?” Fizzle asks, perching on Timoran’s shoulder. He leans forward and twists his head to stare into the barbarian’s blue eyes. “You wild man from snow. Fizzle hear of you from trees as you walk. Where Nyx and new dancing friend? Fizzle really want meet dancing friend. Birds say she smell nice and warm. She one of Luke’s mates.”

  “Sari is back at the academy and Nyx is resting after a spell backlash. We’re going to pick her up on the way back,” Luke explains, enjoying the nervous look on Timoran’s face. “Has your trade-speak gotten better, Fizzle?”

  “Fizzle practice in sleep,” he proudly answers. He flutters off Timoran’s shoulder and returns to the pie pan to lick it clean. “Is Timo . . . big man and Sari champion too? Fizzle sorry, but you name too big to get on first try. Fizzle practice it.”

  “How did you know about us being champions?” Luke asks, eyeing the adorable drite suspiciously. “We found out after you left us for your slumber. Did the trees and birds tell you about it?”

  “Fat lizard caster tell me,” Fizzle answers, fluttering into the air and landing on Luke’s head. The drite purrs at the familiar perch and leans down to see Luke’s face. “He speak to Fizzle while Fizzle sleep. He want Fizzle to protect you from evil. Fizzle promise to keep all safe. We must go now.”

  “Nyx and Delvin have anoth
er apple pie with them, so you can find them by tracking its scent,” Timoran says, his deep voice startling the drite. “There is no reason to rush because Nyx can keep the pie warm with her magic.”

  “We must rush,” Fizzle excitedly insists. He fixes both of the warriors with a serious gaze from his rainbow eyes. “Fizzle dream of bad things. Gypsy in danger. Evil waiting to possess gypsy.”

  “Lead the way!” the warriors say.

  Luke and Timoran sprint through the forest with Fizzle darting ahead. Within seconds, they are left behind by the dizzying speed of the drite, a trail of sparkling magic left for them to follow.

  *****

  “So, what blinded you?” Delvin asks as he watches Luke and Timoran vanish into the distance. He is tempted to put an arm around Nyx, but he is not sure he can avoid one of her spells while he is sitting down.

  “You,” she mutters, raising her head and facing him. She is able to see hazy forms appear in the darkness, so she breathes a gentle sigh of relief. “I looked at you and it felt like I stared directly into the sun. Actually, that’s not even close to what it felt like. I don’t know how to describe it.”

  “That’s bizarre,” Delvin claims, scratching his head. “I’ve never demonstrated an affinity for magic. I was always drawn to the sword and nothing strange has ever happened to me since I was eight.”

  “That implies something strange happened to you when you were eight,” Nyx points out with a wry smile.

  “If you’re not going to tell me your secrets then I’m going to hold onto mine,” Delvin whispers, his voice carrying a subtle playfulness. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to be the only open one in this relationship.”

  Nyx tries to shoot a challenging expression at Delvin, but is unknowingly staring at the apple pie. “There is no relationship beyond potential friendship. You’re starting to push your luck with that too.”

  Delvin stands and extends his hand for Nyx to take. She can barely see the hazy outline of his hand, which she gingerly reaches out to grab. Nyx yanks on Delvin’s arm, intending to pull him off-balance while she gets up. Instead, he falls on top of her and she promptly blasts him away with a small tornado. The warrior lands in the branches above her head, where he struggles to free himself.

  “Sorry!” Nyx shouts, scrambling to her feet. “I couldn’t see what was going on and you were suddenly on top of me. I panicked and . . . are you hurt, Delvin?”

  “My pride is going to need some time to recover,” he answers, dropping to the ground and brushing the leaves off his clothes. He sees the incredulous look spread across Nyx’s face. “Believe it or not, I do have some pride.”

  “You seem so humble that I find it hard to imagine you gloating. I can easily imagine you shrugging stuff off without a care,” Nyx admits, reaching out to what she thinks is a leaf on his shoulder. Instead, her fingers touch his chin and she immediately recoils. “Why do you make me feel so strange?”

  “I should be asking you that question,” Delvin says with a laugh. He leans against the tree and takes some time getting a look at Nyx. “I’ve courted women before, but I never met anyone who interested me as much as you. I certainly never met a woman who made me openly declare my feelings and intentions. At first, I thought you or Sari had cast a spell on me, but that would have worn off. Now, I keep wondering if it’s your beauty or defiant personality that enchants me more.”

  “Stop flattering me. I don’t like it,” Nyx half-heartedly demands.

  “I merely speak the truth,” he counters with a polite bow. He notices Nyx clench her fist as if she is going to hit him, but she refuses to strike. “You have a presence about you, Nyx, which I have never felt before. I get the feeling you’re the type of woman who would fight by my side one minute and be a kind . . . friend the next. It’s a refreshing change from the hardened warrior women, flirting barmaids, and vapid noblewomen I’ve dealt with for most of my life.”

  Nyx blushes and stares at her feet, which abruptly come into focus. She looks up to see Delvin gazing at her, a smile growing on his face when he sees her violet eyes are back to normal. With a wave of her hand, she has the apple pie float to her and warms it up in preparation of Fizzle’s arrival.

  “You’ve never been pursued?” Delvin asks as if the idea is absurd. “I can’t believe nobody has ever tried to court you, Nyx.”

  “Many have tried, but none have been any good at it,” she says with a nervous chuckle. “They bought me drinks, offered me griffin rides, and all manner of attempts to impress me. I even had one man compliment my scent, as if that would make me melt into his arms. I’ve never received anything more romantic than a blunt offer of companionship. Nobody has ever tried to talk to me like a woman or sincerely compliment me.”

  “You mean talk to you like I am,” Delvin interjects. He casually sidesteps the coin-sized fireball that Nyx flicks at him. “You really don’t like being wooed by someone who knows what he’s doing. Then again, I’m not used to being a guy who knows how to talk to a woman. I guess we’re on even ground.”

  “So, what happened to you when you were eight?” Nyx asks, hoping to change the topic and recover her dignity. “If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

  “What?”

  “I meant tell! Not show!”

  Delvin laughs at the sight of Nyx waving her hands in front of her and blushing brighter than a crimson rose. He holds his aching sides while the caster slowly shimmers out of sight. He stops laughing when he notices she has disappeared and the apple pie is sitting on the leaf-covered ground. Cautiously turning around, he is unable to figure out where the half-elf is hiding. Several minutes pass before he hears a muffled sneeze from behind a maple tree. The warrior leans against the opposite side of the tree, his ice-blue eyes taking in the colorful canopy above their heads.

  “I’m originally from the Yagervan Plains,” Delvin begins to explain. He hears a shuffling of cloth against bark and catches sight of Nyx peeking around the tree. “My tribe would migrate from the southern plains to the conifer forests of the north. We followed the silver horn herds, so we were never in the same place for very long. Anyway, I was puny and my parents didn’t have much esteem within the tribe. This made me a favorite target of the kids who were only happy when they were picking on a weaker child. I took a lot of beatings from those kids and I tried to quietly endure it. I believed there would be a day where they got bored with me and moved on to another victim.”

  “You were bullied,” Nyx whispers in a timid voice. “I can’t really relate. The kids who hated me tended to tease or ignore me. I was the prodigal apprentice of Rainbow Tower, so they saw me as a high-ranking freak of nature. To them, it was safer to make me feel like an outcast instead of physically attacking me.”

  “That’s still a form of bullying, Nyx,” Delvin says, swiftly stepping around the tree to face her. “Do I really make you nervous?”

  “Continue telling your story and I’ll share mine when I see openings,” she requests in a strong voice. She meets his blue eyes and struggles to hold eye contact. “My birth village was burned to the ground when I was two and I was rescued by a fireskin named Isaiah. He brought me to Rainbow Tower where I was adopted by Cyril and Willow. Everyone thought my parents were dead, so it seemed only natural. Now, it’s your turn to tell more of your story.”

  “The silver horn herds had gone much further north one year, so we followed them into iceberg territory,” Delvin obligingly continues with a charming smirk on his face. The smirk vanishes as he remembers the rest of his story. “The bullies brought me onto an ice floe to beat on me without the fear of being caught. The ground began to crack and they made it to safety while I was trapped on a chunk of ice drifting out to sea. I floated around the northern seas for about three months until a trading ship found me. They brought me to Everthorne where I joined up with a caravan to travel the outer lands of Ralian. We parted ways and I lived on the streets of Gaia until I ended up at Hamilton Military Academy. Apparently, being able
to block Selenia with no prior training gets you enrolled for free and turned into one of her pet projects. The rest was graduation, time as a mercenary, and returning here. Now, what’s the rest of your story?”

  “Trained as a caster, left Gaia with Luke, many adventures, found my parents, and now I’m here,” Nyx rapidly says. She puts a finger against Delvin’s lips when he is about to ask her something and she swiftly pulls her hand away. “I have some questions first. How did you survive with no food, no water, and no warmth for three months? Also, why didn’t you try to go back to your tribe after you were rescued?”

  “Why do you keep pulling away so quickly?” Delvin curiously asks.

  “Your lips are slimy,” Nyx replies, glaring at him when he opens his mouth to argue. “Please answer my questions.”

  “On the Yagervan Plains, it’s considered a dishonor for a tribe to lose a child. Dying from disease or misfortune is understandable, but there is no excuse for a healthy child to disappear since there are so many people to watch,” Delvin calmly explains, wiping a few tears from his eyes. He is surprised to feel Nyx put a warm, gentle hand on his arm. “After a month, the lost child is declared dead and the tribe fasts during the daylight hours for half a year to pray for the gods’ forgiveness. If I had returned, they would have mistaken me for a ghost or an evil omen. Tribesmen are very superstitious, which is why they never venture beyond the eastern lands. Back then I was the same and felt like I was being punished by the gods. In my mind, returning home would have brought misfortune to everyone.” He forces a grin to hide his shame as he decides on revealing his deepest reason for never going home. “I was also scared that the bullies would be waiting to finish the job. If I revealed what they did, they would have been exiled. I feared they would try to kill me before I could speak. It was safer to stay far away and find a new life.”