The Companions of Tartiël (58 page)

“If they ask,” I said, “first, I’m going to bed. Then, later, if they ask again, I’ll give them a brief description of what went on, but just the important stuff.”

“All right,” said the DM. “The city wastes no time in finding out exactly what went on under the dome, and they find all of you in and around the temple later that evening. City officials greet you and congratulate you. They describe the dome as the city’s self-containment magic, designed to seal off any threats to the state at large, and that once so sealed, there is nothing anyone on the outside can do until the threat inside has been neutralized or when enough time passes.

“The night passes uneventfully, but the next day, a formal ceremony of thanks and congratulation is held in front of the temple. However, when you—Wild’s with you, too—step outside, two things happen independently of each other. Kaiyr, you enter a brief slip in time and meet with Arvanos again, who tells you that time is short. However, the news he has is not so good; although you have fulfilled your end of the bargain, he cannot uphold his, for Astra’s soul seems to be beyond his calling. Whether she has already returned to life in some other manner, moved on, or been utterly destroyed, he doesn’t know.” He hesitated, awaiting a response.

I put my index fingers to my lips, the others laced. “I merely nod and accept the news. If there is something beyond his power at work here, then it’s not his fault. I thank him for the effort and then ask to be on my way.”

Dingo nodded, then turned to Xavier. “Caineye, you don’t notice Kaiyr’s little mental trip, since it happens in an instant, but while you’re about to leave the temple, an eagle swoops down and lands on your arm, and in a subtle gesture, three words appear in your head, and they stick with you forevermore:
I am back
.

Xavier beamed. “Alduros Hol. So, I couldn’t meet him because Saraël must have been keeping him away somehow.”

Dingo nodded. “Moving on, as you exit the temple, you first see the three Lillik brothers standing just outside the door. They look at you all expectantly.”

Xavier looked to me, since the artifacts were of elven origin. “I fix them with a stern glare and say nothing as I pull all of the parts of Ministriel’s Regalia from my pack, except for the Helm, which I will be returning to Ivyan myself,” I said gravely. “
Begone
, I warn them, and I brush past them.”

“I-I don’t even look at them,” Xavier added.


Don’t worry
, says the eldest brother,
we’re not particularly interested in seeing any of you, either.
They leave without further ado, leaving you to face the ruling council of Ik’durel.

“The leaders of the city thank you profusely for your aid in saving this part of the city,” Dingo said.

“Even though only ninety-nine-point-six percent of everyone here died,” I added sardonically.

The DM snorted in amusement and went on, “You are all awarded titles within Ik’durel, as well as seats on the council, if you want them.”

I looked at Xavier, who shook his head. I mirrored his reaction at Dingo. “No. Kaiyr, at least, isn’t going to take them up on that. He’s got stuff to do back home, and I don’t think he’ll be wanting to stray far for a good, long while.”

“I’m going to go to Ivyan with Kaiyr,” Xavier announced. “We’ve been through so much, and our characters have become good friends. Caineye could use some time in a small forest village.” He looked at me, and I held out my hand. He slapped it in a low-five.

Dingo shrugged. “All right. Well, they do give you a mansion, and they staff it with people who will keep it tidy in case you ever need to use it, and within Ik’durel, you are nobility. You are told that you may keep all the gold and other treasure you have found within the church, as they are spoils of war.”

Xavier and I had already discussed this with Matt, and I shook my head, giving Dingo reason to pause. “Wait a sec. We’re going to keep a tidy sum of it, but a lot of it we’re going to donate back to the church of Alduros Hol. There’s still work to be done here: they need to repair the damage to the temple and see if they can save the tree, there are positions to be filled, and there are probably other cells of false worshipers out there in the world. They’ll need this money to do any of that, even though Kaiyr is going to devote some time before heading back to Ivyan to destroying any remaining followers of Saraël. We’ll keep the gold and the stuff in the boxes, but the platinum is all going back to the church; I believe it amounts to something like sixty-five thousand gold worth of plat.”

Dingo’s eyes popped. “You’re not keeping that?”

Both Xavier and I snorted. “Dude,” I replied, “do you have any idea just how much gold you’ve given us? We’re actually going to end up well above the gold for level-twelve characters… which we are now, since we beat Saraël!” I put my hand out, and Xavier clapped my palm with his again, to chuckles from all around.

“All right,” Dingo said after a moment. “So, you donate a shit-ton of platinum to the temple.”

I flattened my lips in an expression of finality. “Yeah, and then I’m outta there. Kaiyr has no desire to stick around for back-slapping and feasts. The laughter yesterday was more a reaction to Saraël’s sudden defeat, but now reality is catching up to him… particularly after that little meeting with Arvanos.”

“Well,” said our DM, “I suppose all that’s left is the epilogue, then.”

 

Epilogue.

Blademaster Kaiyr dodged out of the way of a clumsy overhead chop. Then, manifesting his soulblade in the blink of an eye, he batted the weapon out of his opponent’s hands.

“Good,” he said, releasing his grasp on his soulblade and striding over to where his student’s wooden sword had clattered to the floor. Tossing it back to the scrawny elven lad, the blue-haired elf took up a position before the youngster. “Again!”

As he and his student sparred, all around them, several other pairs of apprentice swordsmen and –women practiced different strikes and maneuvers on the floor of Kaiyr’s treetop dojo nestled within the elven village of Ivyan. It had only been a few months since the one-eyed blademaster had opened the doors of his new dojo, but already his students were showing signs of growth and skill.

Kaiyr had been much aggrieved to learn upon his return home that his father, Blademaster Sorosomir Stellarovim, had fallen ill with a mysterious disease and had died only weeks before Kaiyr’s homecoming. The young blademaster, his spirit already bowed enough under the stress of losing both Astra and Solaria, spent several nights meditating by his father’s grave before deciding that Sorosomir would not have wanted his son to grieve for him overlong but to continue the elder blademaster’s work.

Caineye had come with the returning blademaster and was quickly adopted into Kaiyr’s tiny family, now consisting only of Kaiyr and his mother, Iresili. The druid spent much of his time out in the woods with Vinto, adventuring, watching for storms, and hunting both game and threats to the peaceful Ivyan.

“Master Kaiyr, when will you teach me to be a blademaster?” asked one of his students from behind as Kaiyr was putting away the wooden practice swords for the day. He turned around and found himself face-to-face with a fierce tomboy with short, red hair and demanding, green eyes. She was almost old enough to own holdings and live on her own.

A slow smile spread across the weary elf’s face. “Can you manifest your spirit, Lady Lurai?”

Lurai’s gaze dropped to her feet. “No, Blademaster. I still can’t.”

Kaiyr nodded and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Ask me again the first time you manifest your spirit, whether it be your full blade, the hilt, or even a wisp of golden light. Then, and only then, can I teach you more. I have given you all the direction I can for now. The rest is up to you. You will have to learn more discipline and patience before your spirit will come to your call.”

Giving him a sullen but respectful bow, Lurai sighed, “Yes, Blademaster Kaiyr.” She gathered her sparring robes in her arms and made her way to the door.

“Oof,” said a familiar voice. “Oh, Lurai. Pardon me.”

Kaiyr looked back as Caineye squeezed himself to the side, having entered the dojo just as Lurai was leaving. The human druid’s bronze dragon armor gleamed dully in the evening light. “I’m back, but I’ll be leaving again before long,” the druid said by way of greeting.

Kaiyr bowed slightly at the waist and approached the other man. Leaning forward, the two of them touched foreheads. “Well met, Brother,” Kaiyr greeted his most treasured companion with a warm smile that slowly spread across his face. “Is the pack keeping you busy?” Reaching up, the blademaster untied the black eyepatch he wore over the eye Saraël had ruined, long ago by Caineye’s standards. The motion revealed not an empty socket, but a thin scar running from Kaiyr’s forehead, through his eyebrow, and down his cheek. Nestled right at the heart of the scar, however, was a perfectly functional eye that flashed with all seven colors of the rainbow.

Caineye chuckled and scratched his salt-and-pepper hair. “Yeah. Vinto has most firmly asserted himself as the alpha male, but even with the two of us, raising three dire wolves isn’t an easy task.”

Kaiyr nodded. Having seen the enormous pups himself—they already stood several inches higher at the shoulder than Vinto—he could understand the difficulty in keeping the playful hunters in line. Caineye had, during last year’s game shortage, convinced a mother dire wolf to entrust her pups to him. She had done so and had traveled west to find more abundant food.

“It is difficult to believe that you have already been taking care of them for more than a year,” the blademaster said, carrying a broken sparring weapon to the balcony, and, after making sure nobody was loitering below, he dropped it back into the forest whence it had come.

“I know,” Caineye replied, joining his friend and honorary brother at the railing. The two of them leaned there for several minutes, staring at the late summer sky as it changed colors from periwinkle to orange to red and violet. At length, the druid found a smile creeping across his face. “I wonder what Wild’s been up to for the past four years. We haven’t heard from him since… well, since we left Ik’durel.”

Kaiyr just shook his head, a wry smile on his lips. “I imagine his fingers must be heavy with rings by now.”

The blademaster’s uncharacteristic humor elicited a chuckle from Caineye.

“Will you at least remain here for dinner? I have been smoking fish all day,” Kaiyr offered.

Caineye snorted. “So
that’s
why my pack’s been going crazy today. I had to use magic just to get the full story from Vinto. Your cooking is awfully enticing to them, you know. That’s half the reason we stay near Ivyan.” He chortled and pushed himself from the railing with a grunt and stretched before making for the ladder that led back to the ground below. “Unfortunately, I have to see to my children’s dinner. I would love to, otherwise.” He tipped his head. “I’ll be around.”

Kaiyr nodded to his friend and watched him go. When Caineye reached the ground, he was joined by Vinto and a trio of large and still rather ungainly dire wolf cubs. They would grow to the size of large horses before they reached full maturity, and woe be to him who stood between them and their dinner, Kaiyr mused.

It was after his dinner of fish, bread, and fresh greens that Kaiyr heard a knock at his door, interrupting his evening meditations. Rising, he prepared another lecture for Lurai, who constantly bothered him about blademaster training. Pulling out his eyepatch, he raised it to his right eye and held its loose ends in one hand as he slid open his paper-covered door.

Moments later, the black eye covering fell to the floor, entirely forgotten. Kaiyr’s body shook, and he looked with both eyes upon a face he thought he might never see again.

“L… Lady Astra,” he stammered, surprised for the first time in a long while. His heart skipped a beat, and when it picked up the rhythm again, it thrummed to a new, faster tempo.

Astra stood just beyond the door, her hands fiddling with each other as she looked up at the much taller elf. Their eyes met. His blue and rainbow eyes held hers, and her violet orbs captured his gaze.

Neither of them would later be certain who moved first, or whether both of them moved at the same time, but the two of them crashed together with the force and passion of two waves in a stormy ocean. Unlike such tides, however, they did not part. Kaiyr wrapped his arms around Astra’s slender form, and she returned the embrace tenfold, hugging him close.

“Kaiyr,” she laughed as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I… Oh, Kaiyr, I never realized…” Her voice trailed off into incoherent sobs and promises to never leave his side nor misplace her trust again.

“L—Astra,” Kaiyr whispered back into her ear, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips without her title. “Astra… You have come back, and that is all that matters!”

Astra nestled her head against his shoulder, and joyous sprang into their eyes to stream down their faces. Kaiyr could make neither heads nor tails of what she told him almost feverishly, but he gathered that she had suffered countless ordeals to make her return. But it had been worth it, and she swore she would never again put either of them through such pain.

At last, she stopped retelling her broken story, and slowly, they both settled down, their breathing matched, their hearts beating to the same cadence, that of love. Astra pulled back and looked up at Kaiyr, and he back at her, and before they knew it, their lips met in a gesture of finality, of love and passion.

When at last they parted, Kaiyr took her hand and led her inside his home. As he closed the door behind them, Astra wrinkled her nose. “You know, you taste like fish….”

 

*

 

The three of us sat back in our chairs, deflating as soon as Dingo said, “The end.”

“That… was the very best story ever told,” I said at length, sighing and tossing my clipboard with my character sheets onto my desk, which was empty from my having begun to pack up for the summer vacation.

Other books

Josie Under Fire by Ann Turnbull
SECRET IDENTITY by Linda Mooney
Our Lovely Baby Bump by Dahlia Rose
Pasha by Julian Stockwin
Lincoln by Donald, David Herbert
Fault Lines by Brenda Ortega
The Other Man by R. K. Lilley
The Third Sin by Elsa Klensch
Seed of South Sudan by Majok Marier


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024