Brian Rathbone - Inherited Danger

"I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself, Mother," Catrin blurted involuntarily.

Mother Gwendolin just smiled. "You need not fret. I'm not easily offended, and you did suffer quite a fall. My position often seems to impose courtesies that my ego does not require and that I would much sooner forgo. There are those who feel I must maintain my aloofness as a requisite, but I find it tiresome. It creates a barrier between me and just about everyone else. Ah, but I did not come here to tell you my troubles. Please, tell me the tale of your journey," she said, but she noticed Benjin make an exaggerated glance toward the open doorway. "Perhaps this is a tale best told in a more accommodating location. If you'll follow me, I'll find us a more comfortable place to talk," she said, and Benjin nodded in agreement.

She led them through the large hall and down a wide, rounded flight of stairs that opened into another equally large hall. Fewer people were gathered in this part of the temple, and many of the doors that lined the hall were closed. Catrin saw people in rooms where doors were open or ajar, but they made very little noise; most appeared to be in various states of meditation.

Another flight of stairs took them into a smaller hall with fewer doors on either side. Mother Gwendolin selected a room that had empty rooms on either side, and when they were all inside, she closed the heavy door behind them.

"I apologize, Mother, but our tale must be kept in confidence. I fear anyone who learns of it will be in danger. I'm hesitant to place such a burden on you, and I'm prepared to tell you pleasant lies if you decide that is best. I would ask your preference," Benjin said.

Mother Gwendolin smiled, nodding in acknowledgment of his warning. "First, I must ask you to address me as Gwendolin while we're in a private setting. It will lighten my heart to enjoy your company as equals. Second, I wish to hear your tale, no matter how dangerous the information may be. I sense this is no minor matter, and I'll do what I can to assist you."

Everyone in the room seemed to relax once those things were understood, and Catrin let Benjin's voice pull her along as he told their tale. He left out no details, shocking everyone with the extent of his disclosure. He spoke of Catrin as the one who had been declared the Herald of Istra, and Mother Gwendolin gave her more than a few glances during the telling of her deeds. Catrin immersed herself in Benjin's telling, and she let herself experience the tale from his perspective.

He wove the story with skill, and his details painted vivid impressions in her mind. She liked the texture of his rendition and stored his memories alongside hers. Mother Gwendolin made not a single sound. She listened intently until Benjin reached the last part of his tale. When he described their journey with Milo and Gustad, she dropped her face into her hands and sighed; then she laughed. Benjin fell silent and Mother Gwendolin looked at each of them anew.

"You've endured many trials along your journey, and you've more challenges ahead. Benjin's words tell me you have acted wisely and bravely, and I honor your courageous deeds. He also alluded to Catrin's desire to learn from us. I would ask what it is you seek."

"I… uh… I came here hoping to learn about my magic," Catrin answered, caught off her guard.

"Pah! Magic? What do you need with magic? Do you wish to perform tricks at country fairs?" Mother Gwendolin asked, incredulous, and Catrin gaped. "What you possess is not magic, child. You have power. Not the perception of power like that which politicians wield, but real, tangible power. It would seem you were right to seek us out, for you have much to learn, but we will remedy that, shall we not?"

"Thank you," Catrin responded. "I don't want to be a burden, but any help and information you can offer will be greatly appreciated."

"You couldn't just come to visit, could you, Benjin?" Mother Gwendolin asked with a wink.

"I suppose not."

"I think Catrin and I should spend some time together," Mother Gwendolin said. "Perhaps she could rejoin you this evening at the First Inn?"

"Certainly. We can find our way out," Benjin said.

"You should pay a visit to Milo and Gustad. I'm sure they'd be glad to show you their experiments," she replied with a wave, and Benjin closed the door behind himself.

Nervous and self-conscious when left alone with Mother Gwendolin, Catrin quailed. The woman's grace and eloquence made her feel crude and ignorant, and she was somewhat cowed by Mother Gwendolin's reaction to the word magic.

"Well now, where shall we begin, hmm?" Mother Gwendolin said. "Perhaps you could describe your experiences with power. That would help me understand what you know."

Catrin sighed, took a deep breath, and prepared to verbalize the indescribable. She began by detailing the events surrounding the attack on Osbourne and how she had thought she would die. Then she tried unsuccessfully to relate the feeling of the world flying away from her.

"Hmm, yes, that explains a great deal," Mother Gwendolin said. "It is my belief that the human brain is capable of much more than most people realize. There are doorways in our minds, like portals to ancient knowledge, most of which are closed. Some doors can be opened gradually over generations. I believe those opened by a parent before the time of a child's conception are made easier for the child to open, and I have hypothesized that these doors can be blown apart by traumatic experiences. It is my unproven theory that the unconscious mind can sometimes override the conscious mind for the sake of self-preservation, but I digress.

"It would seem a major doorway fell before the threat on your life, and you instinctively triggered a chain reaction, unleashing a blast of energy. It is my belief that one cannot create energy. One can store energy, harness it, release it, but not create it. Again, I digress, please continue," she said.

Catrin went on with a bit of excitement. She hadn't known what to expect, but at least Mother Gwendolin had some answers for her, even if they were vague and unproven. She managed to tell the tale of the destruction of the greatoaks without crying, but Mother Gwendolin's astonished reaction made it difficult.

"By the land. The Grove of the Elders and the Heartstone destroyed."

"You know of the place?" Catrin choked.

"Only from legends and scripture, but you described it perfectly. It was a very sacred place where the land's energy was said to be almost palpable."

"It was. I felt it." Catrin sobbed, once again suffering the guilt of destroying the once beautiful place.

"You could not have known, dear. Now, now, don't cry," Mother Gwendolin said softly.

Catrin then told of her experiences on the plateau and how the water seemed to repel her. She described the emotions she had been experiencing when she slammed the ground, and Mother Gwendolin looked thoughtful but remained silent. She went on to tell about her trials among the Arghast, and about the striking of the well.

"Clever," Mother Gwendolin said.

Finally, Catrin described her attack on the Zjhon fleet. She tried to express in words her energy vortex spinning in a similar manner to the rotation of the storm, and how exhausted she had grown trying to maintain it. Only when she reached that part of her tale did she remember the fish carving, and she quickly filled Mother Gwendolin in on the overlooked details. Mother Gwendolin's eyes flew as wide as saucers, and Catrin grew quiet.

"Wait one moment before you say anything more," Mother Gwendolin said. She went to the door and summoned a nearby guard. After she whispered something in his ear, he left at a run. Catrin wanted desperately to ask what was going on, but she sensed Mother Gwendolin had good reason for her silence, and she also sensed an aura of excitement.