John Forrester: Fire Mage

Rikar bowed, trying to act like a perfect nobleman, but came off like he was arrogant and pretentious. He introduced everyone, staring way too much at Nuella in the process. She suppressed a glare each time he looked at her. Rikar was too stupid to even realize it.

Lenora bowed awkwardly, and sniffed suspiciously. “You’re runaways, like us.”

“We’re hardly like you,” Mara said, her tone sharp and dismissive. Talis chuckled as Mara stared contemptuously at them.

“Now, now, no fighting.” Nikulo tilted his head at Lenora and smiled. “But we’re no runaways, we’re on a quest.”

Lenora ignored Mara, and lowered her voice as she leaned forward. “Our city was destroyed by the Jiserians. Burned to the ground. Only a few of us escaped with our lives.”

“Father says we’re lucky.” Nuella frowned. “But I miss my mother and our home. I miss the parties and the dances and the knights in silver and gold.”

Talis stared at the fire, knowing the same fate could happen to Naru. He glanced up at Lenora. “You’re a mystic?”

Lenora flushed. “I was trained as one…not seasoned, not tested by Sisters yet. Too late for all that.”

“Never too late.” Nuella ran a finger along her sister’s arm. “You remember what Sister Eayla said…about the wind, the wind speaking to you.”

“I haven’t heard a thing from the wind yet…I just hear mother’s screams, that’s all I hear in here.” Lenora touched the side of her head, then looked at her hand as if wondering what it was doing.

“After crossing the desert and these barbaric woods, I’m in dire need of a drink.” Nikulo sighed. “Ale anyone? Cider? Red wine?”

“Father doesn’t let us drink…says we’re too young.”

“Nonsense,” Nikulo said. “In times such as these, ale does the soul good.”

“Well I suppose…” Lenora grinned like she was willing to hide anything from her parents.

Nikulo trotted towards the tavern owner, and returned with several mugs, handing them to the girls first. They glanced around the room nervously, and peered inside.

“I tried the ale…you wouldn’t like it.” Nikulo hiccupped. “I tried the wine too…dreadful. You wouldn’t like that either. Cider seemed like the best option. Harvest time of the year, after all.” He nodded his head knowingly at Nuella and lifted his mug in a toast. “To youth…may you always refuse to die.”

Lenora took a sip, and whispered, “Does your quest have anything to do with the Jiserians?”

Talis edged closer to Lenora. “We share a common foe. Just last week, our city, Naru, was attacked by Jiserian sorcerers. But they haven’t defeated us yet…at least I hope not.”

“Do you have any idea how powerful the Jiserians are?” Rikar said, and squinted at Talis. “Without the most powerful of magic, we’ll be useless against them. You haven’t got a clue what is needed.” He drank the cider, and wiped the sides of his mouth.

“But we can stop them.” Mara glared at Rikar. “That’s why we’re on our quest. Turn things in our favor.”

Lenora looked doubtful. “Father is leading us to Khael. They say Khael and the lands to the north are free from the Jiserian’s grasp-”

“Father said they are allied yet protected,” Nuella said, her voice uncertain. According to Master Holoron, the city of Khael was an outlaw city, filled with pirates and brigands. If Khael was allied with the Jiserians, they probably wouldn’t be welcome. But they needed to go through Khael to find passage by sea to the island.

Just then a big man with sagging jowls and darting eyes came stomping over. He glowered at them and grabbed the mugs from the girls’ hands. “What are you doing? Why are you talking to these people. And why are you drinking this!” He set his eyes on Talis and looked him up and down, and huffed, the smell of garlic and liver wafting from his lips.

“I think you misunderstand, Father,” Lenora said, standing firm. “These travelers are from Naru, recently attacked by the Jiserians-”

“Naru? You’re from Naru? But why would the Jiserians dare attack your fair city?”

The big man relaxed his shoulders, studied Talis more closely, then finally sat next to his daughter. The bench groaned under his weight. He wrung his hands as if they were wet. “Don’t pay any mind to my gruffness…who can trust strangers?” He smiled, as if trying to assure them his suspicion was natural. “Tell me, has Naru fallen?”

“Nay.” Rikar put a whetstone to his dagger. “We repelled their aerial invasion. Unlike, it sounds, your village…”

“Not a village lad, a great city, Bechamel Downs, lain waste by hoards of Jiserian mongrels. Strange beasts, made of mud and sticks and twisted vines. They sieged our city for weeks, as if toying with us, sending us petitions for our surrender each night at dusk. Our foolish leaders refused each time-”

“I’ve never heard of your city.” Rikar twisted up his face. “Well it doesn’t surprise me, honestly, your leaders probably sold you out in exchange for titles in the new Jiserian Empire…people do that, you know. They did it at Onair and countless other cities along the western coast.”

“Who are you, boy?” Lenora’s father said. “You talk as if you’re a king-”

“Perhaps one day…mother says that’s a possibility.” Rikar looked at the beams, eyes blinking rapidly.

“The Lei Family line is in waiting for the throne,” Mara said, her voice terse.

“They’ll be waiting a long time if they’re dead. Enough of this talk.” Rikar stared at Lenora’s father. “Our party is in shambles…ruined by an attack from Jiserian necromancers in the desert. Your daughter here tells us you’re traveling to Khael. Yes? So, so, we also travel to the coast… Shall we, bind together, safety in numbers and all that?”

“I don’t see why not.” Lenora’s father shook his fat jowls left and right. “Yes, it’s decided. Travel with us to Khael, join me and my daughters, and our two servants. Together we’ll be nine.”

“We’ll need to talk it over…as a group.” Mara glanced at Talis.

“All this talk is making me hungry.” Nikulo jutted his chin at their table. The barkeep had just set down a huge bowl of stew filled with pork and cabbage and potatoes, and roasted bread, topped with what looked like garlic and butter. It smelled better than it looked.

“If I didn’t have the gift of sight,” Lenora said, “I wouldn’t say our paths are intertwined. Because they are. Somehow the way ahead is made clearer after meeting you…”

The way she spoke made Talis feel as if fate had spoken. If he resisted, the gods would be angered. For a brief moment, when she had voiced the words, it was as if time stilled, and her eyes were illuminated with some strange fire. He couldn’t resist even if he tried.

Mara elbowed him in the ribs. “Snap out of it.” She pulled his arm, leading him to the table.

Talis was about to grumble, then he thought the better of it. When Mara was determined like that it was impossible to say a thing. He filled his bowl and ate, thinking about Lenora. She might be a mystic, but from Mara’s expression of contempt, Lenora was a witch.

When Rikar and Nikulo and Talis all voted to travel with Lenora and her family, Mara was furious. She promised them no good would come from traveling with strangers. But Talis couldn’t help notice the edge of jealousy in her voice. After all, Lenora was beautiful and from an exotic kingdom, and he was curious to discover the secrets of the mystic school of magic.

Rikar and Talis had found enough gold in their purses to buy four horses, the last of which was a small, fat horse that seemed perfectly suited for Nikulo (despite his protests). Talis glanced up as a stable boy finished placing a saddle and bags onto his horse. He handed a small silver coin to the boy, and grinned as the boy’s eyes went wide staring at the coin.