by Mac Flynn
I glanced up at Tristan and noticed that his plate was empty, as was his glass. “Aren’t you going to have any?” I wondered.
He shook his head. “No, at least, not at the moment. As I mentioned last night, I need very little refreshment to survive.”
I hung my head. “I see. . .”
Tristan shifted in his chair. “But perhaps you have some questions about this world. I’d be glad to answer any of them.”
I lifted my gaze and my sight fell on Chloe. “Well, I was wondering how shifters came about here but not in my world,” I admitted.
“Magic was the source. The humans sought supremacy over all the lands and the beasts. The animals used primitive but powerful magic to transform themselves into humanoid creatures and used the weapons of the humans against them to protect their homelands.”
I looked to Chloe. “So humans and your kind don’t get alone?”
“Oh, that was a long time ago,” she assured me with a bright smile. “Now we live very peacefully together.”
I returned her smile with one of my own. “I’m glad to hear that. So-” I returned my attention to Tristan, “-what else is different than from my world.” I tugged on my collar. “Well, besides the clothes and the decor.”
“Magic stands out above all else as different,” he emphasized as he leaned back from his empty plate and entwined his fingers together. “It is very much the defining attribute of this world. The humans and shifters rely on the athrylis to help them, the shifters rely on their magic to grant them the ability to hunt in their natural forms, and the athrylis rely on all of them to support their life. Unintentionally or not, much of that magic is therefore dedicated to protecting the inhabitants from the natural evils of the world.”
I paused mid-chew and swallowed hard. “What kind of evils?”
“The natural world of this realm, like your own, has its wild creatures. Some of those beasts are of monstrous size, and a few are even capable of their own magic such as Chloe’s ancestors,” he explained.
“Like dragons?” I guessed.
A dark shadow passed over his brow. “Dragons were rather rare in this world. A beast that would be a better example is the legendary ferange, a cat from which many species of shifter cats are descended.”
I looked to Chloe. “So as a gath you’re not descended from them?”
She shook her head. “Oh no. They are completely different from my ancestors.”
“So like humans, shifters are different from each other even if they’re all cats or dogs or something like that?” I guessed.
Tristan nodded. “Yes. This world is as complicated as any other, and has its own histories.”
I looked him up and down. “You must have a very long history.”
“You’re referring to my age,” he mused.
“The story that the lord of the castle told me said you came to my world fifteen hundred years ago,” I pointed out.
Tristan cupped his chin in one hand and furrowed his brow. His voice was low and quiet, and there was a hint of surprise in its depths. “Has so much time passed?”
I studied him in his deep thought. There was almost a child-like innocence to his features that I couldn’t quite understand, like seeing a person who knew the world, and yet couldn’t understand it.
“Were you alone for most of it?” I wondered.
He nodded. “Yes. Dierth are not generally welcomed, even when they can perform magic to assist the sick or grow the crops. And then there are these-” He reached up and brushed his hand against one of his horns. “I’m afraid I’m unable to hide them, and they bear the mark of my dierth heritage.”
I admired the smooth white bone of the horns. “But they’re so pretty. How could anyone not like to see them?”
Tristan dropped his hand and smiled at me. “I’m glad you think so, but not many share your opinion. However, the hour grows late.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “What say we head to the village? The tailor there will be able to make some suitable attire for you after he takes your measurements.”
I gobbled up more of my food and jumped to my feet. “I’m ready for that!”
12
We walked to the foyer and Chloe followed. She snatched a brown cloak from a hook near the door and held it out to me. “You can borrow this. Sometimes the road is very muddy and I wouldn’t want you to get some on your dress.”
I smiled at her and took the cloak. “Thanks, but-” I glanced down at my bare feet. “What about shoes?”
“Your strange shoes are drying in the sun outside, so you might borrow some of my boots,” Chloe offered me.
I wrapped my arms around her stiff form and gave her a hug. “You’re a lifesaver.”
When I drew us apart Chloe was blushing, but it was a becoming red hue. She bowed her head and her hands fidgeted together in front of her. “I-it’s nothing.”
“Christine,” Tristan called from the open doorway.
I spun around and hurried to him, swinging the cloak over my shoulders as I went. “Coming!” Tristan froze and his eyes widened a little as I joined him at the door. I blinked up at him as he stared down at me. “What?” I looked down at myself. “Do I look that bad?”
He gathered himself and shook his head. “On the contrary, but let us go.”
We stepped out into the soft rays of the early-day sun. I couldn’t help but look in the direction of the hedge, and the persistent question popped out of my mouth. “Has the portal opened?”
Tristan looked ahead and his answer was in a flat tone. “No. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged and returned my attention to the quaint stone path that led us toward the road. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s only been a day, and this is a really nice one.
I wish I could have felt that optimistic, though my words did allow me to enjoy the view around me. This was my first time for a full inspection of the front of the house, and I was in awe of its wonderful beauty. The front yard was full of long flower patches that curved and turned to create little nooks where someone could read the whole day away without being disturbed. Tall oak trees cast their cool shadows over various hedges that interrupted the yard and wound their way through the gardens like sentinels standing guard over the flowers.
A flicker of light made me glance to our right and I saw a small lily-pad covered pond a short walk away. Its smooth surface glistened in the light of the sun as birds flitted to and fro catching the bugs. The yard sloped down to its cool shores and created a perfect picnic spot.
Beyond the hedges and flowers was a tree line that separated the property from the rest of the world. The trees on the left were thicker and taller than those on the right, and in the distance I glimpsed an opening that hinted at civilization.
“Do you like it?” Tristan asked me.
I nodded. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” I looked up at him. “Did you do all of this yourself?”
“Of course he didn’t!” a voice piped up, and Gwill emerged from the deepest shadows of an oak tree nearest us. He crossed his arms and folded his legs beneath him as he floated beside us. “You can’t make such a nice yard and house without having a strong ardwid.”
“You must be very proud of this wonderful lawn,” I complimented him.
His eyes widened a little and his face showed some surprise, but he pulled himself together and puffed out his chest. “Of course. An ardwid who can’t make his own lawn green is a worthless one.”
“What happens if you leave?” I wondered.
He shook his head. “I can’t leave, at least-” his eyes flickered to Tristan, “-not without permission of the house owner. Though I could leave for a few days, maybe even a week and nothing would happen. After that-” He shrugged. “There’s no telling, but it wouldn’t be pretty. The flowers might wither and the lawn would definitely turn brown.” He looked up at the oak as we passed under its shadow. “This old guy might not even make it very long without me.”
“When did you last le
ave?” I asked him.
Gwill’s eyes flickered to Tristan and a dark shadow passed over his already-dark face. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Not since-”
“What matters is you remain here now,” Tristan interrupted him.
Gwill floated around us and shrugged. “I know, I know. Gotta maintain the home fire and all that, and I’ll do it, too, even if you don’t come back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some fresh flowers to make bloom.” He slunk back into the shadows and disappeared.
I looked up at Tristan. “What happened when he last left?”
“The house and grounds were in rather poor shape when we returned,” he admitted.
“So you two must have been gone for a while,” I guessed.
“Long enough,” was his evasive answer.
The stone path guided us through the array of beauty and toward a thick line of trees that divided the property from the dirt road which I could see through the narrow woods. As we reached the center of the tree line I felt a strange shift in the air. It was like a cloak had been lifted and a cold breeze wafted over me.
“Did you just feel something?” I asked Tristan.
He smiled down at me. “It’s very adept of you to notice. Most people would accept it as a passing shadow and ignore the sensation.”
“So you felt it, too?” I guessed.
He nodded. “Yes. That’s the boundary for the house to keep evil away. Gwill’s magic surrounds the entirety of my property and serves as a sanctuary for all within its blanket of protection.” We reached the wide dirt road and turned right away from the deeper part of the woods.
“So why don’t other people feel it as well as us?” I wondered.
Tristan tilted his head to one side and his teasing eyes studied me. “Have you forgotten that you are an athrylis?”
I looked at the ground and shook my head. “No. I just-” I raised one hand and looked over the simple palm that had held magic, albeit briefly. “I just don’t feel any different than I did before.”
“That will change in time. That is, if you decide to accept my proposal and become my apprentice,” he reminded me.
I smiled up at him. “It’s really tempting, but I don’t want to bother you.”
“You forget that my spell is what brought you here,” he pointed out.
I shrugged. “I know, but you’re trying your best to get me back, and I’m really grateful for that.”
Tristan stared ahead and pursed his lips. “I see. Well, please consider my offer. It wouldn’t be a bother for me to teach you some magic while you’re here.”
A thought struck me and made me furrow my brow. “If I did learn magic, would I be able to use it in my own world?”
He shook his head. “No. Magic relies on a natural source, and that source is no longer in your world.”
My shoulders drooped. “Dang.”
“You might stay in this world,” Tristan suggested.
I raised my eyes to the natural beauty that surrounded us. The woods with their cool shadows and soft, tickling brush waved at us with the insistence of a soft breeze. A creek passed by us near enough that I could hear its gurgling voice call out to me, tempting me with its sweet, fresh water.
“I just-” I bowed my head and bit my lower lip. “I just don’t know.”
Tristan studied me for a moment before he looked ahead and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to pressure you to remain, and I will help you return home, if that is what you truly desire.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I just. . .I just don’t feel like I belong here, you know? This isn’t my world, not really.”
He nodded without looking at me. “I understand.”
I sighed and looked over my shoulder at the thicker part of the forest that we left behind. I was glad when my curiosity overcame the heavy shadow over my heart. “What’s that way?”
“The wilderness of the ellyll, or fairy wood,” he told me. “You should never go there alone.”
His words tempted my curiosity. “Why not?”
“The ellyll are a powerful folk who distrust mortals and cast them from their sight,” he warned me. “If they are provoked they will do worse than shun you. They may cast a curse on you that even the strongest of athrylis magic would be hard-put to lift.”
I winced. “So is that some of the evils you mentioned earlier?”
“It is less an evil than the order of things,” he countered. “The ellyll have distrusted mortals since athrylis first used magic for their own designs. You might say they are jealous that another besides they can harness nature. Shifters are also shown the same scorn because of their very being.”
“So can shifters be athrylis?” I wondered.
He nodded. “They can, and many of the most powerful of the athrylis have been shifters. There are currently several shifters on the Council of Treon.”
“What does that council do?” I asked him.
He chuckled. “You have quite a curiosity for a world to which you don’t belong.”
I smiled and shrugged. “I might have a long wait here, so I may as well learn as much as I can.”
“The Council of Treon is the governing body of the athrylis,” he told me. “They are the ones who enforce the rules of the athrylis and who preside over judgment should one of our own break the sacred commandments.”
I furrowed my brow. “So does ‘Treon’ mean something?”
“He was a legendary athrylis who wrote the texts on which the commandments are based,” Tristan explained as his eyes took on a faraway look. “According to those same legends, he ascended to the aether while still alive and resides there in perpetual peace.”
“So the aether is some sort of heaven?” I guessed.
“In the terms of most people, yes,” he confirmed, but his attention shifted to a spot ahead of us. “We are nearing the village of Blodau, which translates to flowers.”
Never was a name more apt as the forest parted and the road widened. Before us were wide fields of flowers that looked like a cross between an iris and a tulip. Their thick, long petals showed off all the colors of the rainbows. There were dazzling pinks and greens as brilliant as a pure emerald. The reds were as bright as the crest of a finch and the yellow was as bright as a rose. There were many more colors, and all blended to create their own beautiful rainbow that swayed in a gentle breeze.
Beyond the flowers sat a quaint village with a couple dozen steep-roofed houses and a single large, spire-tipped building with a bell tower. The houses were a clean whitewashed color that glistened in the sun. A few people, men and women alike and dressed all in plain rough wool clothing, worked in the fields closest to the village.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“The enfise flower is the main export of Blodau,” Tristan told me. “The flower is notoriously difficult to grow, but the relatively predictable climate here allows the villagers to harvest fields of them.”
“I’ve never seen a flower with so many colors,” I mused as I swept my eyes over the rainbow field.
“Even in this world the flower is unique for that very trait,” Tristan revealed before he started off down the final path between the flowers. “Now let us see what the tailor can make for you.”
13
We walked down the wide dirt road and soon reached the people in the fields. They had small sickles in their hands like those used for hand-cutting wheat and were hard at work slicing the flowers off as close to the ground as they could cut. Their long experience showed when all that was left behind them was a field of green stumps that were barely visible above the dirt.
They tossed the cut flowers behind them and other workers at their backs picked them up as quickly as they threw them. The flowers were set into large wicker baskets that hung from one arm, and when the basket was filled the people switched out their full basket for an empty one so that the pickup process was unbroken. Dozens of filled baskets sat on the edge of the field, and mostly women sorted the flowers by colo
rs. Beside them were strings of equal lengths that they used to tie the flowers into bouquets which were then placed into new baskets. Those were carried to several nearby carts that were quickly being filled. The whole process was as smooth as the flow of a lazy river.
At our approach, however, several of the workers at the front looked up. They cast dark looks at Tristan and quizzical glances in my direction. Some of them even sneered at Tristan as we passed.
I lowered my voice to a whisper as we left the workers behind. “Do they not like you?”
“A dierth is trusted by very few because they cannot tell where my loyalties lie,” he mused.
I blinked up at him. “Your loyalties?”
He sighed. “Chloe was not quite right to say that the animosity between shifters and humans was long past. Patches of the world, and even whole empires, still distrust one another and have made war in recent memory. For one such as I who cannot claim an ancestry from either side, I am feared and loathed by both sides.”
“He’s coming!” a young boy whispered.
“Quiet, Aeron!” a young girl’s voice hissed.
“You’re the one not being quiet, Enid!” the first voice argued.
We reached a grouping of large wooden casks, and it was from them that the voices originated. I paused and peeked over the top of one of the front ones. There was a little hole in the middle, and in that space was packed two young children, a boy and a girl. They both yelped and scrambled back, but their own hiding place trapped them.
The young girl, who appeared to be about ten, wrapped her arms around the boy and glared up at me. “I won’t let you eat him!”
I blinked at her. “Who’s going to eat him?”
Tristan moved to stand beside me and the girl pointed at him. “He’s going to eat him!”
I laughed. “He’s not going to eat anyone, but I might.” I reached a hand toward them. The children screamed.
