Sky Jewel Legacy- Heritage

by Gregory Heal

  He then returned to his faithful friend Skarmor, who was soaking up some rays of sunlight in the Elder’s courtyard. He gave the griffin a quick physical, making sure he wasn’t injured from his confrontation with Blake. Then, with a lot on his mind and time to kill while he waited for Jen and Cindergray to return, he decided to take Skarmor up for a quick flight.

  As Skarmor took off into the clear afternoon skies, Victor tried to direct his thoughts elsewhere. But every thought he had managed to circle back to Simone Chen . . . his Simone. Then, tired of fighting his heart, he gave in.

  Simone . . .

  Victor had never wanted it to end the way it did, but times were different back then. Everyone warned them not to get involved personally; it would only lead to disastrous results, they said. And, as always, they were right—especially once Victor was accused of casting spells in the Pit.

  No matter how hard he had fought to make Chen believe that his actions that night were to save Malcolm, she stood by the Sorcerer’s Oath. Victor couldn’t do anything but respect her stance. But then everything seemed to simultaneously crumble for him, like a domino effect of bad luck.

  His relationship with Simone had disintegrated just after his fateful meeting with the Elder Synod. Even though it was his idea to sacrifice himself, he wasn’t prepared for the way Simone had looked at him when she found out about his banishment. The loss he felt was real . . . but now that he had returned, his feelings had resurfaced. If she really did love him, how could she not feel the same way he did? Either she didn’t see Victor like that anymore or she was very adept at hiding her true feelings. Victor had no clue.

  Skarmor’s sharp, piercing call echoed far and wide over the fertile hills of Azumar, jolting Victor out of his thoughts. They still soared high off the ground at a good clip. He patted Skarmor on his strong neck and glanced down at Watercress Castle. Despite the conflicting emotions, it felt good to be back.

  Almost as if I never left.

  “Maybe things do eventually work out, even if they seem unfair at the time,” Victor said aloud, his words lost on the wind. Skarmor chirped his agreement as they circled Watercress.

  During their third pass, Victor saw the tiny forms of Jen and Cindergray emerge from the castle. “Ho, boy!” He clicked his tongue and directed Skarmor back to the Elder’s courtyard.

  As Skarmor came in for a landing, Jen and Cindergray grew larger and larger, and Victor found himself anxious to hear what Jen thought about everything Cindergray had shown her.

  Skarmor touched ground as lightly as a feather and took a few steps to further slow down his momentum before stopping just in front of the Grand Mystra and tenderfoot.

  “So I see you made it back in one piece,” Victor joked. He figured she needed some levity, given her witnessing an assassination attempt less than an hour ago.

  Jen’s face was flushed and her eyelids looked slightly puffy like she had been crying, but Victor did not get that sense from the way she spoke. “Victor! Cindergray gave me an amazing tour of Watercress after showing me the Sacrarium.”

  “Pretty cool where they hid it, huh?” Victor winked at her.

  “Yeah, I mean, just getting there was hard enough.”

  Cindergray added, “We both decided to stow the Ring of Lancaster there to take the target off her back while she trains with her very own totem.”

  Victor noticed that Jen was still going through the emotional loss of her ring. He could see her bottom lip start to quiver, so he gave a nonverbal signal to Skarmor. The mighty griffin cocked his large eagle’s head and walked over to Jen. She smiled when she saw him come closer and they touched foreheads.

  “Hey, Skar,” she said as she put a hand atop his head. That was all she needed to compose herself before facing Victor and saying, “Yep. I left it there, Vic. This is the first time I haven’t worn the ring since I was a baby.”

  Victor put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Jenny. I know how much it must have hurt to part with it.” He shot a glance over at Cindergray. “But it was for the best. At this time, you’re much safer with your ring protected in the Sacrarium.”

  “That’s what Cindergray told me, and I believe it.” Jen turned her orb over in her hands a few times.

  Victor noticed. “So have you decided on what totem you are going to make?”

  Jen gripped the orb a little tighter. “I have a few ideas.”

  Victor smirked. The more he got to know Jen, the more she reminded him of a younger version of himself. She was full of inherent bravery, abundant creativity, and the willingness to do the right thing, no matter what. “I think I know who might be able to help you.” He smiled at Cindergray and asked, “May I?”

  “I think Jen has had enough of me for the day.” Cindergray winked at Jen. “You may, Mystra Huxley.”

  Mystra Huxley . . .

  Victor hadn’t expected to hear his old title. Frankly, he hadn’t been called that in so long that he had erased it from his mind—no one in the history of the Guild had been reinstated after being banished. Granted, Victor’s crime wasn’t as severe as others—if you could call what he did a “crime”—but he was still officially dismissed. But to hear it now, and from the Grand Mystra no less, made his heart swell with pride.

  Happier than he had ever been, Victor bowed deeply to Cindergray and offered his elbow to Jen, gesturing to Skarmor with his other hand. “It would be my honor to escort you to the metallurgy, Jennifer Lancaster. I think it’s time for you to get acquainted with Mystra Hephalon, the forger of totems.”

  Jen seemed relieved. “Oh, good!” She laughed. “I thought I had to make my own totem . . . that would have been disastrous.”

  She slid her arm around Victor’s bent elbow and together they walked to Skarmor, who seemed excited to take them to the metallurgy. His lion tail thumped on the ground as he stretched his large eagle wings.

  Jen asked, “What has gotten into Skarmor?”

  Victor smiled knowingly. “Mystra Hephalon has a female griffin. Pernissa.”

  “Oh my . . .” Jen laughed.

  Victor was about to help Jen get on Skarmor when she stopped him. “Thanks, Vic, but let me try it alone. Here.” She handed him her orb.

  She pulled herself up onto Skarmor, straddling him with both legs.

  Victor was impressed. “Very nice, but it could use a bit work,” he joked. He deftly mounted Skarmor in front of Jen while still holding the orb.

  Jen scoffed and took the orb back. “Show-off,” she muttered.

  “Hya!” yelled Victor, and Skarmor gained speed to take flight.

  As the griffin took off from Watercress for the metallurgy, Cindergray watched them go. He was filled with so many thoughts, but once they were swallowed by the horizon and the setting sun, Cindergray then focused on what needed to be done.

  Jen didn’t realize how tired she was until Skarmor was airborne. The griffin’s smooth flying rocked her to sleep, and by the time she opened her eyes again the sun had almost set over a massive and dense forest that went as far as Jen could see. Before the forest’s tree line started, though, there stood a compound with a medieval-looking factory, pumping gray smoke from a lone chimney vent, and a modest stone cottage that gave off a warm light through its windows.

  “Welcome to the metallurgy, situated at the base of the Amaranthine Forest.” Victor gestured forward over the dense canopy of trees. “Now, Mystra Hephalon can get overly excited when meeting new people, so be prepared,” Victor called over his shoulder.

  The compound grew as Skarmor descended. Jen squinted through the dwindling sunlight as she caught sight of a large, burly man chopping wood outside. She guessed that he was Mystra Hephalon.

  CRACK!

  As Skarmor touched down, Hephalon brought his axe down with such force that the thick log in front of him split as easily as a toothpick. Seeing Skarmor, he kicked the log pieces to the ground, stuck his axe into the cutting stump, and turned to them.

  Wiping his hands
, he bellowed, “Well, poke my eyes, look who it is!” He lumbered over to Victor, who had already dismounted and was walking toward his friend.

  “It’s good to see you too, Heph,” Victor said before all his air was pushed from his lungs by a bear hug.

  Hephalon released Victor and laughed. “When I heard you had returned, I couldn’t believe it! I thought some tenderfoot was pranking me when my carrier hawk returned from a grocery trip with a message tied on his leg, but lo and behold!”

  Victor patted his friend’s broad shoulders and led him toward Jen, who was still sitting atop Skarmor. “It’s a long story, but there’s someone who needs your ever-capable hands to forge her a totem.”

  “Oh, enough with your plaudits—you have already won me over, you nobbler!” Hephalon said, clearly still appreciating the compliment. “So who’s the lucky tenderfoot?”

  “Mystra Hephalon, I give you Jennifer,” Victor started, and Hephalon dropped into a big, embellished bow. “Daughter of Charles and Jocelyn,” Victor continued, despite Hephalon freezing mid-bow, “descendant of Genevieve Lancaster.”

  Hephalon gasped, quickly bringing himself up to his normal posture. “Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed the metallurgist.

  With a smirk, Victor introduced his old friend. “Jen, I give you Mystra Sterling Hephalon, son of Vulcus, the most renowned of totem metallurgists.”

  Hephalon was still in comical shock as Jen said with a giggle, “Very nice to meet you, Mystra Hephalon.” She slid off of Skarmor and landed with soft feet.

  “Lancast— So the stories are true . . .” Hephalon stumbled over his words as Jen made her way to shake his hand, which was three times the size of hers. She held her hand out until he shook off his amazement and brought both arms around her for a bear hug. Jen was lifted off the ground as Hephalon said, “I never thought I’d see the day!” He softly put her back onto the ground and bowed more eloquently this time. “I am at thee service, milady.”

  It took a couple of breaths for Jen to find her voice, then she replied, “Thank you, Mystra Hephalon.”

  “Oh, please call me Heph. Hephalon was my father.” He scratched his head. “And my uncles and grandfather, now that I mention it. It surely is a wonder how nobody got confused!”

  Jen shot a glance at Victor and laughed.

  Behind them, Skarmor patted the ground with his bushy lion tail and beat his wings in eagerness.

  “Looks like Skarmor is interested in reuniting with a certain female griffin of yours,” Victor said coyly.

  “Ah, yes! Pernissa will enjoy seeing him as well,” Hephalon said. He led the group to the stable behind his cottage. Upon opening the sliding door, Hephalon stood to the side to let Skarmor eagerly trot inside, trilling in delight.

  Following Skarmor inside, Jen watched as he greeted another griffin—Pernissa, she assumed—by dropping to one of his front haunches and bowing his feathered head. Pernissa was first stunned to see Skarmor, then cawed in glee, standing up. She was smaller and trimmer than Skarmor, and had lighter coloring on both her lion hide and eagle feathers. Once Skarmor stood up, she touched his forehead and wrapped her neck around his.

  “They haven’t seen each other in ten years,” Victor commented, leaning on the stable’s doorframe.

  “They’re so cute together,” Jen gushed, placing her hands over her heart. “I could just die.”

  “Let’s let them catch up, while we do the same over a stein or two of Azumarian ale.” Hephalon put a meaty hand on the back of Victor’s neck and waved Jen to follow. “Come!”

  “You still drink that stuff?” Victor laughed as they walked toward the cottage’s front door.

  Jen had a hard time tearing her eyes away from the griffins, catching herself yearning to feel that way toward someone—anyone but Malcolm!—but once she did, she saw the soft glow of a fire burning inside the cottage as the tired sun finally dipped beneath the horizon.

  Azumarian ale turned out to be quite sour—so sour that Jen found herself puckering as she wiped the foam mustache from her upper lip after cautiously accepting the first stein poured by Hephalon. Even though she didn’t know the drinking age on Azumar, her conscious was clear since she had been twenty-one years old for four days at that time.

  Hephalon guffawed and Victor chuckled as Jen swallowed hard and put on a polite face. She quietly slid the stein, which was as big and round as her head, closer to the center of the wooden table, indicating she’d had her fill.

  “It’s an acquired taste,” Victor empathetically said to her, as though he’d had that same experience the first time he’d tried the ale.

  “But you’ll learn to love it,” Hephalon added. “It’s all I drink!”

  Victor leaned closer to Jen. “And he’s got the figure to prove it.”

  They all laughed as Hephalon posed like a bodybuilder before sitting down with two more full steins for himself and Victor. For the next hour, Jen was regaled with many of Victor and Hephalon’s stories as they emptied a keg of ale, the majority of which found its way into Hephalon’s belly.

  “. . . so we decided to make a bet on who would become a paladin first,” Hephalon was saying about one of their shared memories. He animatedly stroked his chin in mock-thought. “Do you remember who did, Vic?”

  Victor held up his hands and gave a dismissive smile. “Hey, let the record show that the only reason you made Paladin first was because you were obsessed with winning the bet! You failed twice before you got lucky and passed the day before I applied. I wanted to make sure I passed the Trials on my first try.”

  “Slow and steady didn’t win the race that time, old friend! It was I who claimed the victory!” Hephalon raised his glass in triumph. Both laughed and clinked their steins before Victor and Hephalon took a sip and a gulp respectively.

  As she sat there listening, Jen realized just how much Victor had sacrificed watching over her for the past nineteen years. She had never seen Victor laugh as much as he did with Hephalon—of course, she had only known him for a short time, but nevertheless Jen felt a mix of admiration and sorrow for what he’d parted with to ensure her protection. She felt a warmth in her heart, a thankfulness that Victor was her guardian.

  They shared a couple more stories with Jen, one in particular about a girl they’d both had a massive crush on when they were tenderfeet—only to learn she was a telemancer and could read their minds.

  Then the clock chimed the start of a new hour, and Hephalon decided to cork the keg. To Jen, he said, “I still cannot fathom that you are a Lancaster. The story was that you had disappeared with your parents when you were a wee babe. Where were you hiding this whole time?”

  Jen sat up straighter. “I—uh . . . I’m actually still coming to grips with it too. Up until a few days ago, I was living in New York—New York City, it’s on Earth?—when Vic saved me from a Dark Watcher.” She glanced appreciatively at Victor, thinking again about Malcolm.

  Hephalon patted his long-time friend on the back. “You’re in the safest hands around.”

  Victor thanked him and said, “That’s actually why we’re here, Heph . . . now that the Dark Watchers are aware of Jen and her potential, we need to prepare her for training.” He indicated the orb Jen had placed in the corner of the room when they entered.

  She walked over, picked it up, and brought it back to the table.

  “Yes,” Hephalon agreed. “It would be an honor to forge your totem, milady.”

  “Thank you,” Jen replied, silently grateful he hadn’t made her ask for it.

  “Have you given thought to what you would like?” Hephalon asked, eyeing the orb. “A ring? A staff? A dagger, perhaps?”

  Victor folded his hands and rested his chin on his thumbs as he waited for Jen’s response.

  “I was actually thinking about a bracelet,” Jen answered.

  Victor raised his eyebrows in surprise as Hephalon swirled around the remaining drops of ale in his stein.

  Jen continued, holding the orb in her hands
. “Since I’m learning to be an omnimancer, I feel it would be fitting to have charms on the bracelet, one for each Mancy plane.”

  Victor nodded his approval. “Very creative.”

  “And elegant.” The master blacksmith looked to the ceiling in deep thought.

  “And to show your progress, every time you master a plane, Heph would forge you a new charm,” Victor offered.

  Jen liked that proposal; each charm would be a milestone in her journey.

  “Yes! That would give me an excuse to see you two more often!” said Hephalon.

  “But you would need one charm to start out with, Jen,” Victor pointed out, “to act as a totem specifically for the first plane you decide to learn. Do you have a preference?”

  Without hesitation, Jen said, “Terramancy. And I want you to instruct me, Vic.”

  Victor smiled, touched. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “It’s settled then,” Hephalon interjected, slamming his empty stein on the table. He scratched his cleft chin, thinking. “Your orb has more than enough metal for a bracelet and several charms. If I start now, I can forge a terramancy charm and a few different bracelet designs that you can choose from in an hour.”

  “That sounds great!” Jen was beside herself with excitement. With both hands, she handed the orb over to him.

  “Splendid!” Hephalon exclaimed, taking it carefully from her. He downed the dregs of his drink and slammed his stein on the table, shaking it slightly. “I’ll throw some more coal on the fire!”

  “You’ve had quite a few drinks,” Jen pointed out.

  “I appreciate your concern, milady, but I’ve built up quite a tolerance to the fine Azumarian ale. It’s like water to me!”

  He did seem sober enough, so Jen let it go, especially when Victor remained silent.

  “Speaking of, would anyone care for more?” Hephalon patted the large wooden keg.