Read Aphrodite's Acolyte Online

Authors: J.E. Spatafore

Aphrodite's Acolyte (8 page)

 

As Abby and Fidel rode on their horses, they listened to Fardicus' free-flowing information. The residential district was found furthest from the gates, the trade buildings were closest. Inns and taverns were second from the gates, the barracks and other government buildings sitting between the residents and the commerce. Alleyways were frequent, no doubt allowing the residents and visitors to take shortcuts between the various buildings. The huge city definitely sported a design of logic and convenience very indicative of the elven inhabitants.

After the initial tour, Fidel informed Fardicus he would be heading to the main hall to deliver the message from Lord Ias. Fardicus wished them well and went on his way. Fidel and Abby headed toward the main hall. A large statue of Aphrodite stood tall between them and their destination. They stopped for a few moments to admire the intricate stone working, noticing not a single tool mark was evident. The statue was over twice the size of a human male and was beautiful enough to correctly resemble the Goddess of Love. They made their way around the statue, hitched their horses to the posts, and headed inside to meet the Lord of Puldechra.

An elven servant greeted them and signed them in to see the king. The servant requested Abby to remove her daggers and bow. Both her and Fidel nodded at each other, recognizing they should have placed these in his magical bag before entering, a lesson learned between them. The servant led them into the next room, a waiting room for audience with the king.

As they walked through the waiting room doors, they both felt the hairs on the back of their necks stand up, a distinct coldness about them. They glanced at each other, looking for the other to provide an answer. Both of them shrugged in confusion.

Just as they were about to sit down, an elven woman, pale in skin by all standards of the living, entered the room and walked toward the throne room. She gave a passive glance at Fidel and Abby, making each of them feel uneasy.

She wore a black robe, with white hair contrasting with her youthful features. She wore a curious crown of ivy atop her head. She stopped and turned then walked over to Fidel, wearing a friendly smile on her face. Fidel introduced himself, noticing her black eyes seemed devoid of life, cold as steel. The conversation stayed formal, Fidel filling in the woman, known as Pravas Medeis, with the details of his origins in Harlow's Hovel.

She returned in kind explaining her origins of Puldechra and her position as Archmage of the realm. The exchange was friendly yet the atmosphere was cold. Pravas gave Fidel a few pointers on the traditions for meeting Lord Fineal, wished the couple farewell, and departed to the throne room.

Abby spoke first as Fidel was taking his seat. “That is a cold woman. She makes Balomes look like a friendly father figure.”

Fidel took note of Abby's reference to the scar-giving dwarf, retaining a serious look on his face. “Yes, something is definitely odd about her,” he said shaking himself as-if shrugging off an arctic wind. They both shared in a connecting smile when Fineal's herald arrived, requesting their presence. They rose and went into the throne room to meet the King of Puldechra.

As they walked in, Lord Fineal, an elven man sporting brown hair and green eyes, demanded Abby to stay back from the throne, citing the transaction was to take place between Fidel and himself. Abby complied and took a seat immediately to the left of the doorway. Fidel walked the remaining fifty or so feet to the throne, pulling Lord Ias' scroll from his hip sack.

The Lord eyed the approaching elf. “State your business, Mr. Austempes.” 

“I come bearing a message from Lord Ias of Harlow's Hovel. I was given specific instruction by Lord Ias to deliver this message directly to you, for your eyes only.”

  Lord Fineal gestured toward the man on his left. “Very well, Mr. Austempes, please give the scroll to my assistant.”

“Sir, with all due respect, Ias instructed me this was for your hands only. Giving to your assistant would not be your hands. Please permit me to complete my mission successfully.”

Fineal widened his eyes, and raised one of his eyebrows. His tone turned serious. “You defy my instructions?”

Fidel responded, “If by defying your instruction means I am to complete my promised mission, then yes I do.”

The Lord thought about Fidel's persistence. He asked Fidel how he is to know whether the scroll was cursed or had some side effects. Fidel offered to permit any test performed while retaining possession of the scroll in his own hands. Fineal finally conceded the point and permitted Fidel to hand him the scroll. Fineal  requested his advisors to take several steps back, granting him the privacy to read the parchment.

When Lord Fineal finished reading the scroll, he looked up at Fidel. “You can testify that no other hands have touched this scroll since your departure from Harlow's Hovel?”

Fidel nodded his head. "I do.”

The Lord continued his questioning. “How long have you been in town?”

“Just about an hour now, Lord.“

Fineal nodded his head, giving a slight smirk. “Mr. Austempes, I thank you for your persistence in ensuring I received the message directly from Lord Ias. I do hope your stay in Puldechra is warm and welcoming. The fact that an elf chose the lord of humans over the lord of his own kind intrigues me.” Lord Fineal leaned forward in his large throne, his hair falling forward over his pointed ears. “I would like to hear your story sometime. You may go.”

Fidel nodded acceptance at Fineal's request and took his leave, gathering Abby on the way out. The pale woman stared hard at the departing elf and his human companion.

Abby and Fidel headed out of the palace and gathered their horses. They were both hungry so they rode to one of the taverns to grab a bite to eat. Abby asked Fidel if he knew what was in the message and he just shrugged, stating he was not in the least bit curious about the communications between two kingdoms. He elaborated this was just a favor and was most-likely of little importance.

Abby gave a slight grin. “You were quite bold in there for something of little importance.”

“Well, Abby, you'll find I'm quite literal with instructions,” he said in a playful tone.

They arrived at a tavern known as
The White Arrow,
a tavern located quite far from the main gate but close to the residential districts of the city. They hitched their horses and went inside to dine for the evening.

When they entered the tavern, the friendly bar keep greeted them. They took their table and checked out the scenery. The tavern was not unlike many taverns. A very long bar carried the length of one wall, then rounded to another. The third wall contained a fireplace and a set of stairs, leading both up and down. The fourth wall, the entrance, had a large window facing the street.

Behind the bar, close to where the ceiling met the wall, several targets with very small bull's-eyes were on display, with the center of each target containing a hole where an arrow once resided. Each target included a signature, apparently signed by the person who shot the arrow. Up the stairs, they could hear the snaps of bowstrings and arrows whizzing with a final thud into targets.

The barmaid came over to take their orders. “Haven't seen you around these parts. Welcome to The White Arrow. Will you be dining this evening?”

Fidel introduced Abby and then himself. They asked about the house specialties then ordered a couple of teas and some food. Before long, Abby tapped Fidel on the shoulder, getting his attention. She commented on how a specific male patron was glancing over at them frequently from the bar. Fidel nonchalantly looked over as he sipped his tea. The man's height was halfway between Abby's and Fidel's, around the right size for an elf. His blue eyes locked on Fidel's green orbs and he quickly averted his stare, confirming his interest in the couple.

Fidel commented about his dress. A black robe similar to the Archmage of Puldechra, with an additional five-pointed star contained in a circle on the sleeve. Abby got up and headed over to the bar, taking a seat right next to the stranger.

She struck up conversation with the would-be spy as Fidel smiled from afar. The spy stepped back and took a look at Abby. He grabbed his pointed wizard cap and placed it on his head, his long black hair flowing from underneath. He guzzled down his mead and headed out of the pub with an annoyed expression on his face.

Abby called out to the departing wizard, “Was it something I said?!” She glanced at Fidel with a wide grin on her face.

She strolled back to their table with a little bounce of victory in her step. Abby explained to Fidel that in all her years of being a rogue, the best ways to remove a spy from an equation was to approach them directly and make them nervous. Fidel dared ask what she said to him. “I offered to take him downstairs for a roll in the hay." She snickered, "Apparently, I wasn't his type!” Fidel laughed so hard he almost spilled his drink.

The barmaid returned with their food and asked what Abby said to Venin, the Archmage's assistant. Abby informed her and they all got a good laugh out of the situation. The barmaid informed the couple of Venin's role in the city and how his attitude since donning the robe with the pentagram had appeared to change him recently.

In the meantime, a less obvious observer was watching them from a corner table, one that did not stand out like the wizard in the archers haven of Puldechra. The blond-haired and blue-eyed elf sat in the corner smoking a pipe with his fedora low on his face. He watched in interest, never holding his eyes on the elf-human couple for more than a second. He continued to observe as the duo completed their meal and left the tavern, refusing to follow them at this time.

Abby and Fidel left the bar and strolled along the streets as the setting sun cast long shadows throughout the city. Fidel looked toward the residential district and asked Abby if she cared to join him in his search for his parents. Abby declined the offer, stating this was his time. He provided her some coin to take up residence in one of the inns. They agreed to meet up at the mid-day sun of the following day. Abby set off on her own, in search of shelter for the evening. Fidel headed in the opposite direction, in search of his parents.

He rode for a while, looking to the windows of the hundreds of houses lining the district. The rows and rows of houses seemed endless as he trotted up and down the aisles. Finally, a house with a window lined in candles came into view. Nestled between two other houses and in fine shape, candles flickered from the window on the bottom level. Fidel's heart skipped a beat and butterflies filled his stomach as he made his way toward the two-story home. He sat on his horse, outside the house for several minutes before mustering the courage to knock on the door.

He knocked lightly on the door and nearly forgot to breathe as he heard footsteps make their way from within. The door opened slightly, a piece of rope visibly preventing the door from opening fully. The elven woman asked what business he had there. Fidel stared into the green eyes of the black-haired woman, his mind forgetting about the question just asked of him. The woman repeated the question a little more curiously. Fidel could not find the words to speak to this female version of himself. He reached into his pack and pulled out his parent's scroll, offering it to the elven woman.

She took the scroll and closed the door for a moment. Fidel heard the woman scream. “Grelin! The time has come! Our son has returned!” The door flew open, taking the rope from its resting place, along with a piece of the door jamb with it. Asante, the black-haired woman, tackled Fidel with a tight hug, knocking the wind from his chest and taking him back a few steps.

Grelin, a brown-eyed and black-haired elven man, darted from the back of the house and stopped at the front door, gleaming down at Fidel from the doorway. Asante's tears flowed freely as she kept her son in her arms for a long moment, Fidel returning the embrace with tears of his own. Grelin watched the scene with the happiest smile on his face, trails of tears flowing from his eyes to his chin.

Finally, Asante let go of Fidel and invited him in. When Fidel reached the doorway, Grelin reached out to shake Fidel's hand. Fidel grabbed his father's hand and pulled him in for a hug of his own. Grelin and Fidel gave a couple of sobs and then regained their composure.

The three retreated inside the house to catch up on just over seventy-five years of missing each other. Fidel and his parents spent hours talking about Fidel's life among the humans. Each story reinforced to Grelin and Asante that their decision to send Fidel among the humans was a good choice. The mugs stayed full late into the night. The moon was on the wane when the family finally decided it was time to turn in.

Asante showed Fidel to his room. The small room was at the front of the house, containing the candles in the window. A bed sat in the corner, the same bed that was there when Fidel departed Puldechra. In fact, the room appeared untouched for the past seventy-five years. Some wooden swords and shields, a training bow, and numerous other toys a seven-year old boy would enjoy remained. A single dresser with a small painting of a green-eyed elven boy stood atop it.

Grelin shortly joined Asante and Fidel and announced there was only one more item to address. Grelin handed Fidel a lantern, and pointed to the window sill. Fidel took the cue and drew a deep breath.  He blew out the candles in the window. They all shared a smile with each other and turned in for the evening.

Fidel retrieved the small portrait from the dresser and sat on the bed. He stared into his own eyes, walking his fingers along the intricate curves of the child staring back with a smile. He investigated the room more closely, opening drawers to expose a young boy's clothing. The clothes of his youth triggered memories of running up and down the streets of Puldechra, tossing stones and tormenting merchants.

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