Chapter 39: Recovery [Chris O’Kane, Rimme]
The patrol had been kind of boring at first. Walking along the woods and forest trails. But it was a necessity.
“I hear combat,” someone said.
Up ahead came the faint noise of shouting and the ring of weapons being used. Then came the roar of something large.
Kate pointed to the owl. “Nestor, fly ahead and see what’s happening.”
The owl morph nodded. “Yes!” He spread his wings and was soon soaring above the treetops.
The sounds of battle became more audible. People shouting, struggling, trees and branches cracking and snapping. He caught sight of a dragon twisting and struggling as it was covered with vines.
Suddenly a darkness started to seep out like a fog on a wet night. It spread out in all directions blotting out the light. It rose off the ground, spreading upward, towards the flyer.
The owl swerved sharply and turned to outrun the advancing darkness. He tried to move faster but the darkness moved faster still.
It engulfed the owl suddenly leaving the bird flying blindly in the darkness. He went higher to avoid hitting any trees. But he was flying but couldn’t see anything. Nestor was confused. His magic could not affect this darkness even though it was clearly created and sustained by magic. Nestor tried different spells but with no results. “Why is this happening?” He asked himself.
Finally, after what seemed like forever the darkness faded. Leaving as suddenly as it had appeared. He found himself flying high over the forest. Nestor circled around and slowly descended. He saw a person stretched out on the ground with others around him.
The owl was going to land and help but he wasn’t sure how these strangers would react. So, he flew back upward and headed for where the patrol was.
“What happened?” Kate asked as the owl landed. “It got dark suddenly.”
“I don’t know for certain. It was some powerful magic. Thankfully it has faded. Anyone hurt?”
Kate shook her head. “No. Thankfully.”
Nestor pointed to where he had seen the fight. “There was some sort of skirmish over there. The spell must have come from there.”
***
Nestor and Kate's first priority was checking the remaining members of the camp. Remarkably, only the oni received serious injuries. Nestor only knew a smattering of battlefield healing, but it was enough to determine that Kasaima still lived, just barely.
While Nestor directed a few patrolmen to apply some salves, Kate addressed the four other members. "Is everyone else alright?"
"Trey, Aldwin not here," the dragon said. Kate did not recognize him. With his manner of speech and tucked-in wings, he might have been a juvenile dragon, if not for the mindful concern he showed Kasaima. Was this a Keeper? A friend of the oni's? Or a visitor from the Dragon Mountains?
"I sent Aldwin to the Keep for help," the woman said. "And to keep him safe." Kate didn't recognize her either but noted how awkwardly her clothes hugged around her chest and hips; telltale signs that she'd been recently changed.
"I saw Trey disappear into that mage's robes," the bat morph said. "He's probably still got him, if Trey managed to avoid detection." She remembered seeing the bat morph at an inn before but couldn't quite place him. She did recognize the fourth member, though, as there were only so many Keeper gryphons she'd known from patrol.
"That's one of three possibilities," Rorlyn mused. "If Trey got caught but got lucky, he'll be out in the woods somewhere in hiding."
None of them needed to say what the third possibility was.
Nestor fluttered up to Kate. "We did what we could for the oni. But he'll need more proper medical attention at the Keep."
Kate nodded. "We should head out. We're less than an hour behind an exhausted mage. You," she pointed to the dragon.
"Talo," he replied.
"Can you carry him on your back? I'll take him back to the Keep, and I suggest anyone without magic to come with. Nestor, take some men and follow the trail. Find him or Trey."
"If you please, ma'am," the woman said, "I'm an experienced tracker. I know what Trey looks like. I'd like to join them."
Kate looked at her dubiously, then shrugged. "Very well, it's your decision. But do see me at the Jolly Collie when you get back." The woman nodded, a bit puzzled but grateful.
Nyein decided to follow Talo, Kasaima, and Kate's half of the patrol back to the Keep, while Rita, Rorlyn, and Nestor's half followed the tracks of the fleeing mage. There was no sign of lingering magic in the air; only Rita's skill at spotting overturned leaves and freshly snapped sticks helped them along. But even those signs disappeared. Nor was there no sign of Trey, neither as rat nor morph.
Rorlyn and Nestor took flight to scan the area for magic. They were somewhere north of the Keep, not quite past Tarrelton, within a few miles from the eastern mountains. Forests stretched away in all directions, with no sign of magic being cast.
"We should return to the Keep," Rorlyn said as they landed. "We must tell the guards that an enemy mage is hiding in the woods."
"One thing puzzles me," Nestor said. "You told us, Rita, that this mage took you all by surprise, and was far stronger than any of you, save Kasaima. Yet despite his powerful sword, he only attacked Kasaima and, even then, left only non-fatal injuries. Why?"
Rita frowned. "I remember they spoke to each other, talking about clans and an Emperor. I think the mage came from the same land as Kasaima. His business must have been with Kasaima alone."
"In any case," Rorlyn said, "we should still put the guards on alert. Non-fatal or not, he still attacked Keepers. And who knows who else he may be traveling with."
"Fly safely, then," Nestor said. "But don't start a panic over this. The rest of us will do a sweep from here to the mountains, and then to the river." He watched Rorlyn fly off, before leading the troops off, with that natural leadership given to mages who lead non-mages.
***
The sun was hovering over the western peaks by the time the patrol reached the river. Fortunately, the Hunt of Artela'kema was taking place farther up north along the Giant's Dike, and it was unlikely the mage was going to interrupt. The hoofprints of the royal Lothanasi knights were well-entrenched along the main road. They even met another scouting patrol, who promised to keep watch for the mage.
The familiar babbling river helped calm the nerves of the patrol. After half a day's search, it looked like no further ambush was imminent. The air was faintly hazy as the afternoon sun sparkled off the ice-cold river.
"What kind of bird is that?" one of the guards asked, pointing behind them where a large white bird was skimming above the water.
"It looks like a seabird of some kind," Rita squinted, trying to see across the glistening water. "How many seabird morphs are at the Keep?"
"I know a couple ducks, but not any that big," Nestor said. "It looks like an albatross."
"I know those feathers," Rita murmured, and cupped her hands together.
***
After eating his fill of fish, the albatross floated a bit on the river, trying to get his bearings. The cold water felt good against his feathers, but the rest of the world felt strange to him. Being so low to the ground made him wary of predators, especially with the shoreline surrounding him.
He yearned for the open water and a clear flat horizon. He stretched his wings and found the wind quite agreeable beneath them. Soon he was hovering over the forest, a frozen sea of dark green that frightened him in its stillness.
He found himself drawn to the mountains and the craggy cliffs, but they weren't as vertical as he liked. Something urged him on towards the next peak, searching for a safer place to rest. But as he flew upwards, he found he could cover a great deal of distance without flapping. If he could just rest here, he could let the winds carry him to an ocean he knew would welcome him.
But then another uneasiness took him. Back in the forest was something he was supposed to find. He couldn't imagine what it was — food? a mate? A sparkling trinket? — but he couldn't leave without it. He turned his wings around and found that he was floating above the twisting sea of rocks and snow. A few veins of green stood out in the rock, tiny pockets of trees, but no verdant path to lead him back.
The albatross was reluctant to follow this nagging feeling. Would it not be easier to just let the past go, to follow the wind that plied along his feathers and urged him southward?
Southward... the sun! He'd been flying into the sun. As long as he kept the sun on his back, he could find the valley again. The thoughts still confused him and gave him a faint dread of wrongness, but he had a direction now. The winds now blew against him, and he made much slower progress, but he kept gliding, hoping he could cure the itch in his heart.
Hours of flying later, a different itch arose in his stomach. He drifted down towards the narrow mountain valleys, hoping for a river nestled inside with fish to eat. He soon spotted a small river, but it was too narrow and rocky to carry any fish in it. Undaunted, he followed it downstream.
Once again, he felt nervous about flying too close to the pine trees. He kept to the middle of the river, keeping his eyes on the flickering river. There was a memory tickling at him beneath the surface. If only he could remember what it was he had to do, or even where he was or who he was.
"ALDWIN!"
The albatross's head jerked up. Was that the wind? No, the wind was urging him back, but this sound was urging him towards the shore, where a group of predators stood waiting for them. There was something oddly familiar about one of them, though. Her voice...
"ALDWIN!"
A name. He knew that name. It was his name.
A shaft of light broke through his thoughts. Suddenly realizing only thin air kept him afloat, Aldwin nearly toppled into the water. He felt himself drifting back towards his bird self, enough to know which way to flap to stabilize himself. His mind almost kept falling back into his bird firm, but Aldwin's mind seized the light. Like a rope, he clung to it. He could feel it pulling him upwards, back to the camp, to Rita's last words, to his more distant memories of humanity.
He steered himself over to the woman he remembered was Rita, and landed a few feet from the patrol. He didn't know how he was going to shift, but with only a tiny mental jerk, the rope of light in his mind lifted him upwards, and his body warped and pushed outwards. His legs stretched and his chest expanded. It was like surfacing from a lake and finding a thick costume surrounding his body. There was only so far he could go before the suit grew tight on him, a film covering the water that he wasn't strong enough to break. Yet the moment he stopped pushing, the weight stopped squeezing. Aldwin got off his wobbly knees and stood on his anthro bird feet.
"Aldwin? Is that you? Are you okay?" Rita was saying to him. Aldwin started to rub the water from his ears, only to realize he didn't have ears. All of his hearing was slightly muffled due to their lack.
"Waawwk!" Aldwin clapped his rock-solid lips together and coughed. How was he to speak with this avian mouth? He rubbed his throat and tried to speak from his throat and with his tongue. "Ahhh'k... Ah okay... Got a dit lot on the kay to the Keek." It took all of his power to try to force b's and p's from his throat, a task made harder by his now-muffled hearing. Everyone was staring at him, too, and that made his speech impediment even more embarrassing.
"You're fully changed now," Rita said, a bit cautiously. "How does it feel being an albatross?"
Aldwin whispered some test consonants, trying to get a 'w' out. Getting his speech correct was his first priority. "W-weird," he said, resorting to squeezing his throat to get it to sound right. Hopefully he'd be able to speak soon without manual effort. "Dut wonderthul. I nethyer thought thly-yig would theel... thuh, fuh, fuh... feel so gyood." He suddenly blinked, vocal impediment briefly forgotten. "The thattle! What haddened to Kadaiffa? To the naykth? The naylg? The nmaytch... The wissard?"
"We're still looking for the mage, but Kasaima's safe. Everyone is safe. I'm glad to see you're safe too."
"Aldwin, lad," the owl morph finally spoke, "what happened to your wings?"
"Winkgss?" Aldwin squawked and held out his wings. They were still as long as a human's...even longer, actually. Long white and gray primary feathers were stacked along his upper arm to his elbow, where they got shorter and shorter, up to his hands, where they stretched back out into five long gray-tipped fingers.
"Can you bend them again?" Rita asked gently.
"SPpll—- shpuh, splshure... I neen, yes," Aldwin said, grabbing his throat with one hand while he waved his fingers on the other hand. His fingers were so long, they went several inches past his wrist when he laid them flat against his palm.
"Incredible," Nestor said. There was a certain hollowness to his voice, Aldwin realized. He was speaking directly from his throat but using his tongue to refit the sounds into something more natural. How much practice would an avian like him need to form such words?
"Aldwin, are you there?" Rita was saying to him.
"Ah, s-s-sorwry," Aldwin twittered. "What is it?"
"I was saying, how did you get fingers on your wings?" the owl asked.
Aldwin looked down. "W-what do you mean? My fingersth?"
"Yes, lad, fingers. On your wings."
Aldwin rubbed his head. Even his hair was gone. He peered back into the water to get a good look at himself. The water was too dark and murky, but he could just make out the jet black eyes on his all-white face. "I don'tk... don't know. It wath... was like a light in n-n-my min-nd. Ifk I hadn't heard you sthay my name, Rita, I don't think... I would have found my way out. Thank you..."
"No thanks needed," Rita said. "I think Nestor here is asking a different question, though. Why does your midform have fingers?"
"Why?" Words were already starting to come easier to Aldwin, which greatly relieved him. He looked over to the boar morph who stood them and compared his hoofed hands to his wings. "I mean, I guess the midform puts a human shape over the Curse. The majhes would know..."
"Aldwin, lad, I am a mage. Look at my wings." Nestor held out his wing, showing primary feathers that lay neatly in a row from shoulder to wing-tip. Not fingers, but a single clawed wing-tip. "Feel the feathers."
Aldwin reached over and touched them. There was indeed a great difference between Nestor's feathers and Aldwin's fingers. They were both broad, and quite similar to the ones on Aldwin's upper arm. But his feather-shaped fingers, though flattened, were still thick and doughy. His finger bones felt light and hollow, but strong and full of muscle, whereas Nestor's feathers felt like stiff fluff-covered hairs. Furthermore, while Aldwin's arms narrowed into a wrist from his fingers jutted, Nestor's were smooth and streamlined. There were other obvious differences, with Nestor being an owl and Aldwin a seagull—an albatross, was it?
"I, um..." Aldwin stammered, for once not from his speech impediment. "I never actually looked at a bird this close, before."
"Then you should realize this. There's not a single bird morph at the Keep with those...fingers of yours. Feather fingers. How did you do that?"
"I, I don't know," Aldwin grabbed at his wrists, feeling along his fingers, starting to get frightened. "Did I do something wrong? Is this bad?"
"No, lad, it means every bird morph you meet from now on is going to be VERY jealous of you."
"But... what did I do? Did I mess with the Curse somehow?"
"You must have..." Nestor studied. "You say this is your first time being in midform? You just changed?"
"At the battle," Rita broke in, "he was about half-changed. His arms had only just started changing. He was changing all of yesterday too."
"Then he must have changed all at once in a matter of minutes. That would explain why he nearly got lost in his animal form. The shock would have dragged him under. But that still doesn't explain his hands."
"What happened, Aldwin, after I told you to run? What do you remember?" Rita asked.
Aldwin shivered. The terror was still fresh in his mind, ready to pull him down. His feather-hands tightened at the memory. "I remember the vines. They were everywhere. I had to get away, but the forest was so dark, and I could barely walk. So I grabbed a tree and started climbing. I remember seeing the battle get stronger, someone else swooped in..."
"You climbed a tree?" Nestor said.
"Yes, that's when it started. I got dizzy, and almost felt like falling. But then the vines reached up for me... I must've almost become a bird right then. But I kept climbing. I wasn't even thinking, I just needed to get higher..."
"You needed to get higher, and your first thought, as a bird, was to climb a tree?"
"Well, I don't know what happened, my wings...I mean, my hands... I didn't want to fall, so I kept grabbing the branches. I didn't want to fall. I wasn't even thinking..."
"That's okay, lad, I think I see it now. These sorts of things depend on you not thinking about them." He clicked his beak as he gathered his thoughts. "Do you know Misha Brightleaf? You might not know this, but he has a special form that lets him have a large fox body, with his upper morph torso attached to it. Oh, you've seen it? Well, that's an example of the animal curse's instability.
"You see, the Curse is not, strictly speaking, one curse, but three similar curses. The Keep's counter-curse modifies each one to give the power to shift between a midform and a full form. But unlike the child or gender curses, an animal midform does not exist in reality. It is a completely mental construction of what an animal would look like in humanoid form. It's not a conscious process, mind you. Most people get overwhelmed by the change and surrender themselves to the animal. But a strong mind, or a stubborn mind, can distort certain aspects of the animal curse, and end up with a different form from the norm.
"It's the reason why some plantigrade animal morphs end up with bipedal feet, or why nocturnal morphs end up being diurnal as well. What, you don't know what those mean? Never mind. It's the same with those wings. You were becoming a bird, yet you were so focused on climbing, you pushed your own midform towards a shape that could keep climbing, despite how much the Curse was nudging your hands towards flapping. And you held onto that, even after you pushed yourself towards becoming a full bird. I suppose if you were to mentally push yourself, you could destabilize your midform and take on a new midform, just like Misha has. You could end up with fully avian wings in midform..."
"No," Aldwin shuddered. "I never want to go through that again."
"Of course," Nestor said. "This is mostly just conjecture, based on observations of the Curse. But it looks like that's where your midform has settled, its most relaxed state when not shifted into an albatross."
Aldwin tried putting his arms around his back. His shoulders had lost a bit of flexibility, as it pained him to bring his hands against his back and feel his pointed tail feathers. Which suddenly brought another startling thought to his mind.
"Crap!" He covered his groin with his hands. "Do you have anything I can wear?"
"Aldwin, you're covered in feathers. No one will notice," Rita said.
"Besides, your genitals are internal now. No one can tell without touching you down there." Rita and Aldwin stared at Nestor as the other guards snickered and looked away. "What? When you're an animal morph, you take these things for granted. Anyways, none of us has anything that will fit you. If you really want it, we can find you something to wear at the Keep. We'd better head back to see how Kasaima is doing. Hopefully he's recovered enough to tell us who that mage was."
Chapter 40: Aftermath [Indy]
With Kasaima secured to Talo’s back, Nyein accompanied him to the Keep. It would have been faster to fly, but Talo still didn’t trust his ability and certainly didn’t want to cause Kasaima more harm than he’d already sustained.
Even before he reached the Keep, Talo could see activity. “I’ll fly ahead.” Said Nyein, “We’ve got some friendly dragons around, but it pays to make sure everyone knows. Plus, we’ll need Coe as soon as possible.”
“Who’s Coe?”
“He’s a raccoon who operates the Keep’s clinic.” Nyein flew off and Talo plodded forward. In his new form, Kasaima was not that heavy on his back, but he’d seen the wounds. Whatever he could do by way of comfort, he would.
Nyein was not long returning. “Phew! It’s been a long time since folks have been this riled up! Fortunately, saner heads prevail around here. We’ll be met at the gates by some healers who’ll take in Kasaima. After that I figure we two should work on getting you into a less imposing form.”
It wasn’t long before Talo was at the eastern gate of Euper. A group of Keepers came out with what looked like a white tarp held between two long, wooden poles. Leading them was a raccoon.
“Well, you’re different,” he said. “I’m Brian Coe.”
“Talo.”
“Pleased to meet you Talo. Now, just relax and we’ll get your friend off.” His tone was professional rather than patronizing, and Talo allowed the healers to take Kasaima off his back. Coe made his way over. “Well, he’s still breathing. Those wounds seem to have sealed themselves somehow. We’re going to need to get him warm.”
Talo and Nyein watched as the healers took Kasaima away into the night. They weren’t sure if they’d see him again alive.
***
Awareness came slowly, like a spark being built into a fire. Kasaima groaned and opened his eyes. He was in a strange room, and there was a raccoon looking at him with concern.
“Can you understand me?”
“Yes.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
Kasaima tried to move, but his body protested. The raccoon was holding up three fingers, but Kasaima wasn’t sure why that was important. “Three, why?”
“Just a test, to make sure you’re not seeing multiples. How do you feel?”
“My last recollection was being in a losing battle. That I’m able to feel anything at all I find miraculous.” Kasaima managed to sit up in bed. He looked down at his hands and saw that golden scales were now covering them and his lower arms. His fingernails looked more like claws. “Ah, it seems the Curse is at work.”
“One benefit of the Curse is it will heal people of whatever’s wrong with them. I didn’t think someone like you could be hit with it, though.”
“It was my own doing. I did not quite realize what tampering with the magics here would mean.”
“That’s a familiar tale. Well, the good thing is that you’re healing. It looked like someone used you as a pin cushion!”
“Indeed. How are my companions? Aldwin, Rita, Talo, Trey?”
“Well, half of them are here to see you.”
Into the room walked Aldwin and Rita. “Talo’s still figuring out his smaller form,” said Rita. “He’ll likely be in here soon.”
“But where is Trey-san? I thought I saw him jump my attacker out of the corner of my eye. Has he been hurt?” There was concern in his voice.
“We don’t know,” said Aldwin. “We’re going to try to find him, though. The night patrols are out.”
Kasaima frowned. “I should be out there helping not lying in this bed!” He tried to raise himself but found his body collapsing under him!
Coe was at his side immediately. “You are in no condition to get out of that bed and won’t be for at least another day! Even someone like you should expect to pay for the toll on your body–you’re lucky you’re not a frostbitten corpse from what I hear!”
Kasaima sighed. He hated it, but he knew it was true. He’d be of no service to anyone in this condition. Perhaps the Curse might work with his own naturally fast healing, but tonight he could do nothing but rest. “Very well. But alert me as soon as you find him!”
“Of course!” said Aldwin. “Rita and I will be helping search in the morning. Eli is sure to protect Trey in the meantime.”
“What can you tell us about your attacker?” asked Rita. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
“His name is Yuèliàng of the Unoki Clan. They are the traditional keepers of the runic sword Yuèjiàn. Yuèjiàn has eight powers, for the eight phases of the moon: air, fire, earth, water, lightning, plant, sound, and metal. It can only use one of these powers at a time, however. An additional virtue is that it cannot be lied to. Or, at least, it cannot be directly lied to. I do not know how it fought me when what Yuèliàng said of my mission was a lie.”
“What if he didn’t know it was a lie?” asked Rita. “I could say that the Duke is near the Giant’s Dike, but he might not actually be anywhere near it.”
Kasaima paused. “Yes, that would explain much. Yuèjiàn’s creator was a virtuous man, and his mind would not have thought of something that devious. It would be a risky gambit–the person telling them the lie would have to also believe it true–but it would be worth it. Yuèliàng is a cunning warrior, he would not be easily deceived even without Yuèjiàn. Yet he would not be the first to fall to a beautiful lie that is backed by prejudice. My kind served the Emperor well. Our reputation fell with him.”
“You don’t know Yuèliàng personally?” asked Aldwin.
“If I had, the battle could not have happened. He’d have known my desire. I think he knew the minute I spoke it but had determined to kill me and so could not back down. He must have thought himself safe.”
“Anywhere else he would have been,” said Rita. “But this Valley seems to attract magic like a magnet. He pulled some weird spell that caused an eclipse!”
“The Eclipse Technique! It does not truly cause an eclipse but works to scare enemies and conceal a retreat. But how did you not catch him after? That technique requires a great deal of mana.”
“We’re not sure what happened,” said Rita. “I could track him so far, and then nothing. He might have found some way to do it that’s less mana-intense. In any case, he can’t have gone far.”
***
June 4, 708
Trey woke up and felt sick. His head was throbbing, and he wasn’t really sure where he was. It was somewhere dark and soft and warm from his body heat. For a moment, he thought he was back in his home inside Metamor Keep, but then he remembered.
“Huh. The battle must be over. I sure don’t feel the guy moving.” Using his sensitive whiskers, Trey navigated his way out of the place he was in and into a large cave. “Now that’s weird. How’d we get into a cave? And where is the guy?”
A quick glimpse showed Trey the sword the person had been wielding not too far off. He grew himself halfway up, as if to gather for a harvest, and approached the sword cautiously. He’d heard stories of what happened if you touched runic weapons.
“Such a pretty sword, but what happened to your owner?”
“That is what I’d like to know,” said Yuèjiàn.
“Oh! You can talk like Whisper is supposed to. That helps. How did we get here?”
“After my wielder Yuèliàng dispatched the oni, we were assaulted by a dragon and griffin. I think there were others as well, but the battle was frenzied, and it was all I could do to keep us safe. Yuèliàng used a ritual to escape, but shortly after we came into this cave he began shrinking into his clothes.”
Trey looked and saw there was a small lump in the middle of the clothes. “You killed my friend?” he asked, choking and in tears.
“I do not know. The oni was gravely wounded. He may have perished. We did not have time to linger and see. Indeed, something he said gave us great concern.”
Trey sat down and wept, turning his eyes from both the sword and the lump. When he found himself cried out, he looked at the sword. “What did he say?”
“That his clan had never betrayed the Emperor. One of my many qualities is to know if someone lies to me. He wasn’t lying.”
“Of course he wasn’t! He was here to find information on the Celestial Sword so he could help you!” Trey said angrily.
“We understand that, now. I thought myself impervious to deception, but now I see it is only to known deception, not unknown ones.”
“I’m not sure I understand that,” said Trey.
“It is a bit difficult. Where would you say your friends are now?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I could guess, but I couldn’t be sure.”
“You’re very truthful; an excellent quality. But let’s say you did guess and believed it to be true because it was likely.”
“Oh! Like saying Mael is in the library. She might not be there, but…I see. I’d think I was telling the truth, but I could be wrong and not know it.”
“Exactly so. I could not detect a lie because you were not knowingly telling one. So, we were also misled. We ought to have done more intelligence checking when we got here, but we didn’t and so a great stain is now on us.”
“How long have you been here?”
“As of now, two days. We arrived yesterday, which is when that battle happened.”
“Wait, you mean I’ve been out almost a full day?!”
“So has my wielder, but given the technique he used, that’s hardly surprising. If he’d not been wearing spidersilk, you both would have been dead when the oni hit you.”
“Kasaima. His name was Kasaima,” said Trey angrily.
“Very well, Kasaima, then. We have a type of spider called star spiders that must have been bred by elves. They eat only plant juices yet produce silk that is both soft and flexible yet tough as steel.”
“That sounds elvish alright. Well, let me get your wielder out. What was his name again?”
“Yuèliàng.”
“And yours?”
“Yuèjiàn.”
Trey grew to his full size and reached into the clothes where the lump was. In his hands was a sleeping baby bunny. His body was covered in soft, silvery fur, the top of his head had black fuzz, and his muzzle and belly were white. There was a mark like a full moon in the center of his forehead. Any hate he had for Yuèliàng died that instant, as he gently stroked him and brought him closer to Yuèjiàn. “What did he do? He’s not been here long enough to be Cursed, much less doubly so.”
“The Eclipse Technique. He drew in the energies of this valley as we were attacked. I did as well.”
“That explains it. Kasaima was Cursed after doing something with magic from the Valley too. I’ve never heard of the Curse working quite this fast, but I guess if he’s used enough magic, it would. Actually…hmmm…” Trey held the sleeping bunny gently and carefully checked below.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Checking for pronouns. He’s still a he.”
“What?”
“There are three Curses: one age regresses you, one makes you the other sex, and one turns you into an animal. Normally a person only gets hit with one, but from what I’ve heard more are possible under the right circumstances and this definitely counts.”
“Will he remain a baby bunny? Does he need to walk the years again?”
“I’m going to start with: the Curse is weird and does weird stuff sometimes. The short answer is no. Those who age regress aren’t usually stuck any more than we animal types are. With practice, he could make his body both older and more human-like. I don’t know a lot about the age curse, but I’ve heard it said none who has it can age past being a teenager. His lifespan should be normal too.”
“What of his mind?”
Trey sighed. “Normally people don’t lose themselves to the Curse. There’ve been cases where it’s happened, but it’s almost always been an outside force–usually one of the so-called ‘gods’. Unless something really bad happened, he ought to be the same mentally more or less.”
“That’s good to know. Can you get help?”
“Most likely people are looking for us. Aldwin, Rita, and Talo will probably be wondering where I am–and where you two are.”
“That we expected. Still, we would want to make what amends we can.”
“Hmm. Well, it’s probably best we get Yuèliàng somewhere safe. He’s going to need food, and I’m not sure what he can eat right now. I can take him and his stuff, but what about you?”
“I am not sure. I can be wielded by the pure of heart, but I can only bond with one person at a time. While you can safely touch me, I do not know if you can get me out of the ground.”
“Well, I don’t want to wield you, but Yuèliàng could be unable until he learns to change, which may be a while. I’m sure you’d rather be with him than stuck in this cave.”
“I would indeed!”
“Then let me see.” Holding Yuèliàng in his one hand, Trey pulled at Yuèjiàn, and it came out easily. “Well, not as difficult as I expected! Of course I’m wielding your wielder, so that probably helped.”
“Possibly, but you have a very pure heart too, um…”
“Trey.” Trey carefully arranged and rearranged items until he could carry them and hold both Yuèliàng and Yuèjiàn with his hands. “Let’s head out.”
Trey left the cave and looked around. By the light, it seemed it was afternoon. “I wonder where we are.”
“We left the battle from that direction.” Trey felt a tug to his left from Yuèjiàn.
“As good a place to start as any. At least I know my way to the Keep from there if we don’t meet with anyone.”
Trey kept in the open as much as he could. He was rewarded with a familiar voice from above, “Trey! Thank Eli you’re alive!”
Looking up, he saw an albatross circling and then landing. There was something odd about his wings, though. “Aldwin! You’ve completed your change!”
“Yep. Rita and half the Keep are looking for you! Kasaima-san was particularly worried.”
“Kasaima is alive?!”
“Yes, but it was touch and go. Follow me and I’ll lead you to the others. We still need to find that guy who attacked us.”
“Well, I can spare you that search. He’s right in my hand.” Trey held out the sleeping form of Yuèliàng. “I’ve got his sword too. Meet Yuèjiàn.”
“I uh…”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Aldwin-san,” said Yuèjiàn. “I deeply regret our first meeting was so violent.”
“Hmm, well, are you ready Trey?”
“Yep. Along the way, why don’t you fill me in on what happened. And, if it’s not too rude, why your wings look so odd.”
Aldwin laughed. “Oh, they’re odd alright. But first, tell me what happened yesterday. I barely remember it myself.”
He took off towards the west, and Trey followed after, holding Yuèjiàn with one hand and cradling Yuèliàng with the other. Trey quickly summarized who Yuèjiàn and Yuèliàng were, why they attacked, and that they currently wanted to make amends.
"But what happened to Kasaima? Is he okay?" Trey asked.
"To think only a month ago, I was just a normal guard who hadn't been close to magic, curses, creatures, or talking swords," Aldwin shook his head. The corners of his mouth and eyes tightened, his best attempt at a smile through his stiff beak. "I wasn't there when the battle ended, but I can tell you what I heard from Rita..."
Chapter 41: Awakenings [Indy]
Trey and Aldwin soon met up with Rita and Nestor, along with a large patrol in their direction. “You weren’t kidding about half the Keep being out!”
“Lads, it’s good to see both of you!” the owl flapped over and then down. “But what’s this in your hand Trey-lad? Surely that’s a runic sword–I can sense its power!”
“I should hope so. I am Yuèjiàn the Moon Sword, second greatest sword of our lands.”
“You wouldn’t be the same one as was causin’ all the trouble would you?” Nestor shifted into his full form. Others were gathering near.
“To my deep shame, I was, but both I and my master would like to make amends if that is possible.”
The feathers above one of Nestor’s eyes rose up. “If that’s the case, why’s your master not here himself?”
“Uh, well, he is…” said Trey, and he held out the sleeping form of Yuèliàng. “This would be Yuèliàng.”
“He’s a wee bit smaller than I thought he’d be,” said Nestor.
“From what Yuèjiàn told me, he pulled energy into himself to create some eclipse effect.”
“That we saw,” said Rita. “How is he a baby bunny?”
“The lad’s double cursed,” said Nestor. “Or is it triple?”
“Double,” said Trey. “I checked.”
“Can my wielder recover?” asked Yuèjiàn. For the first time, Trey noticed a change in the sword’s voice, a concern that could not be mistaken.
“Perhaps. We’ll need to strengthen the anticurse. You might be able to help with that, given your bond.”
“If anything I can do will help restore Yuèliàng to himself, I will do it!”
“Very well, let us get back to the Keep,” said Nestor.
***
The trip back to the Keep was largely uneventful, though Trey wished he weren’t the center of attention. A lot of folks were telling him how brave he was, but he didn’t see it that way. If anything, he’d been stupid to try and attack Yuèliàng. He just hoped Kasaima wouldn’t be too disappointed.
Talo had managed to get back into a form close to his original kobold self, if a bit taller and more dragon-like. Before he had a chance to say anything, though, Misha Brightleaf was walking towards him with what looked like half the Long Scouts behind him. Trey gulped.
“I hear you’ve captured a dangerous criminal,” he said, looking at Trey. His hand was on Whisper’s hilt.
Trey bowed. “That’d be too much credit, M’lord Brightleaf. When I woke, the Curse had already rendered him helpless.” He rose and presented the still-sleeping form of Yuèliàng. “According to his sword, they were both misled into the attack and would like to make amends.”
“The one in your other hand?”
“I am Yuèjiàn the Moon Sword, second greatest sword of our lands,” said Yuèjiàn. “I surrender myself and my wielder so that we may be judged and rendered justice.”
“Hmm. That makes things a bit different,” said Misha. “If you’re telling the truth, of course.”
“My creator bestowed on me the virtue of honesty. I can neither lie nor be deceived by an outright lie. I regret that Yuèliàng and I were misled to this action. It is a stain on our honor, and whatever justice you dispense we shall respect.”
“Oddly enough I believe that. Are you safe for anyone to hold?”
“No. Only a virtuous soul may even touch me safely, much less hold me. Trey has a pure heart, and also holds my wielder. I do not know how many others would be safe.”
“Very well. Yuèliàng seems to be in no condition to face anyone.”
“Och! He certainly is not Misha!” said Nestor. “His mind is all rabbity as far as I can tell. I dunna know if he can be recalled or not. We’ve managed to feed him some milk, but aside from basic functions, he seems but a normal baby bunny. I’m going to have Trey and Yuèjiàn try to strengthen the counter-Curse in me house. If we canna do it, more mages and might be able to help us.”
“Very well, we’ll send you help if you need it.”
Nestor led Trey to a building where he lived. “I’ll need to get a wet nurse should we be unable to call him back. Place him at the center of that circle and put Yuèjiàn facing him. I’d like you to hold Yuèjiàn while I cast.”
“Why me?” asked Trey. “I’m no mage. Other than my stupidity, I’ve naught to do with him.”
“Ah, you might see it that way. Yet you held both him and his sword, so you formed some connection even if you didn’t know it or intend it lad.”
As Trey held the hilt of Yuèjiàn, Nestor began canting the counter-Curse. Trey could feel his fur standing on edge as the magic built. Silently, he prayed to Eli for strength.
***
It was dark and silent; a still void of utter nothingness. Then there was a light. It was silvery soft and sweet. Something in the void stirred. More than nothingness, but still tenuous. The light, though, was giving it strength and form, awaking it slowly and gently.
“Yuèliàng” a sound without meaning. Or it should have been. Yet the spirit rising within the void felt as though there was more. Grass and flowers began to grow, and the spirit moved closer to the light.
“Yuèliàng!” Who was Yuèliàng? What was Yuèliàng? It was familiar, yet elusive. Like the shadow of a ghost. Yet the spirit knew that the answer was vitally important, and if it didn’t discover the answer soon, it might never know again.
The silver circle of a full moon was in a sky full of stars. Around was a field of grass and flowers. The spirit felt stronger yet. A chord was tied between itself and the moon. Wasn’t there a tale about that? A moon maiden? Yes, he could see her, reaching for him from the moon!
“YUÈLIÀNG!” A command! A name! His name! He was Yuèliàng and he was being called! Trees broke into bloom around him as memories filled him again! “I come!”
He woke to soft light in a strange setting he did not recognize. There was a giant rat holding the hilt of his sword Yuèjiàn! “Wunwan wy word woo wuffian!” The words were hard to get out and not remotely in the same octave they ought to have been. Behind him, Yuèliàng heard a snigger. He tried to turn, but his body felt strange and awkward. What he could see of what ought to have been his hands were instead two fuzzy paws. What had happened to him?
“Be at peace, Yuèliàng,” said Yuèjiàn. “Trey has carried us from the cave to where we could find aid. Nestor-sama has helped me restore you to yourself.”
“Why dwo wI fweel swo stwange?” His mouth felt as though it had been turned into a soft pillow. Making any words was strangely difficult, but he persisted.
“You have been doubly Cursed, Yuèliàng-san,” said Trey. “You’ve been turned into a baby bunny. You will find it difficult to speak until you learn to change more.”
“Aye, but more counter-Curse will not hurt!” Yuèliàng heard the voice again behind him. He could feel a tingle of magic in his fur. Trey, meanwhile, had gone from a man-like rat to a form closer to a real rat, though a bit oddly shaped.
“Here, let me show you. You’ll need to focus a bit at a time.”
***
June 5, 708 CR
Kasaima awoke in the hospital bed feeling as good as new. He stretched his arms and legs and examined the golden scales on them. “Fascinating!” He wasn’t sure if he needed to wait for Coe to release him, but the raccoon soon came in, smiling.
“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better! If you want, you can have breakfast soon. There were some early morning visitors here, including some who may surprise you!”
“Good surprises are always welcome!”
Into the room first came Aldwin, Rita, and Talo. Talo was looking wonderingly at Kasaima. “Yes, Talo-san, I am also turning into a dragon, though I think one from my area rather than those you are more familiar with in the west.”
Next in came Trey along with him a rabbit-boy of perhaps eight with a small sword at his side.
“Trey-kun! I’m glad to see you!” Kasaima rose and hugged Trey. He then looked at the rabbit-boy. “That sword is Yuèjiàn, despite its altered size. You must be Yuèliàng.”
Yuèliàng bowed deeply. “At your service, Kasaima-san, though after my despicable attack, I would not expect less than death.” His voice was that of a child, but it was filled with adult seriousness.
“Truly this Curse must have some sense of humor. But no, Yuèliàng-san, I do not desire your death. Yuèjiàn has chosen you as its wielder, and it would not do so were you not of outstanding character. How is it that size, tough?”
“When helping to defend Yuèliàng, I also drew on energies of this Valley. Apparently, this allows me to alter my size to fit my wielder now. I may, in fact, now carry some of the Curse within me, though I can’t be certain yet.”
“Fascinating. We should talk and plan more over breakfast.”
Coe popped his head in. “I just got a message from Misha, inviting you all to the Jolly Collie for a meal with him. You two,” he said, pointing to both Yuèliàng and Yuèjiàn, “are also to attend. I’m not sure if it’s so much an invitation as an order.”
Yuèliàng nodded and gave a slight bow. “It is only fitting. We’ve caused much trouble, so we must be expected to make amends. Lead on, Kasaima-san. If in life or in death I can serve you, I will.”
Chapter 42: Misha’s Invitation [Rimme]
This was the first time, Rita realized, that she had set foot in the Jolly Collie as a woman. In most ways, it looked the exact same as always. There was something different about it now, though. Perhaps because she lost an inch of height. Maybe it was the men who now eyed her in her poorly-fitting outfit, breasts straining against her upper tunic and fabric sagging above the waist. Maybe it was the fact that she was no longer surrounded by bigoted outsiders of dubious allegiance, and now among fellow Keepers and victims of the curse.
She didn't have long to dwell on it before a few of the barflies cheered and lifted their mugs to Kasaima. Word had clearly spread out about "the eclipse battle", along with the oni who defended Metamor against the strange eastern mage, and the dragon Talo who defended the oni. Not a single patron seemed to realize that the short bunny boy was the very mage they shunned and feared.
Misha stood up from a large table to greet them, accompanied by an otter woman. "My friends. It's good to see you all again, and in one piece." He smiled to Yuèliàng, who had turned his head away in shame. "Yes, including you. Yuèjiàn told me how you were misled. I see now you are an honest soul, and Whisper trusts you as well. I don't bear you any ill will at all."
The otter gave a polite cough, and Misha started. "Oh! Pardon my manners. This is my fiancée, Caroline. Caroline, these are friends of Metamor, who were all caught up in that mess in the woods. This is Kasaima. Trey. Yuèliàng. His sword Yuèjiàn. Talo. Nyein. Aldwin. And Rita."
Each one bowed to Caroline as he was introduced. Rita also bowed, even as she realized she ought to have curtsied instead. Caroline gave them a smile and curtsied back. "It is a pleasure to meet fellow warriors of Metamor. Misha tells me that many of you are new to Metamor, and even now are still adjusting to the Keep's Curse. I see you haven't finished changing yet," she nodded to Kasaima.
Kasaima smiled back. "I consider it a gift to be touched by Metamor, which has shown me much kindness. Dragons in the east are known as bringers of luck and good fortune. They are also known to have great appetites," he grinned, "though not as great as an oni's."
Misha laughed. "We'd better start ordering, then. I wouldn't want to keep a dragon-oni hungry!"
They all shared a laugh and sat down. Kasaima took up two normal spaces, though that was balanced somewhat by Trey and Yueliang. Talo was about as big as a Northerner. The biggest problem was his tail. Talo opted to sit close to the wall so that his tail didn't pass any chairs or aisles.
"I made sure to tell the kitchen we'd have two big carnivores coming today. Not including myself and Caroline. There's plenty of beef stew and roast beef coming."
Caroline gave him a playful poke. "Did you just say I'm 'big'?"
"Only in terms of appetite, dear. I've seen how much you mustelids can tuck away." He gave her a peck. "And still you look as beautiful as when I first saw you."
"Tease," she said, returning the peck.
Kasaima smiled and said, "You said she was your fiancée. Have you chosen a wedding date?"
Caroline looked to Misha. "Well, dear?"
Misha gave an impish grin. "How long has it been since I proposed?"
"Over a year, you forgetful fox!" She poked him on the nose. "I'm starting to think you are putting it off on purpose!"
"Actually, now is a good time to announce it. I've already informed the other Longs, as well as Caroline's family and mine." He smiled. "June 21st. The first day of the Summer Solstice festival."
"Congratulations!" Trey said. And then his face fell with realization. "Oh! And we'll have to miss it." He looked to Kasaima, who was smiling regardless.
"This will be the best day of your life, Misha-san. We may be leaving you soon, but we will keep your wedding with us, and on that day, we will all toast your love over some warm sake."
"And I will toast with you." Glancing at Caroline, he cheekily added, "For politeness' sake, of course."
She chuffed and kissed him again. Misha turned to Aldwin. "I barely recognized you, Aldwin. Last time I saw you, you were still completely human. How did your change go?"
"Mine? Um...well, it got a bit complicated. It started about three days ago, when I woke up to find feathers on my chest..."
Rita glanced aside to look for the server and caught the glance of a woman in the back of the room, sitting alone. She nodded, and Rita suddenly remembered.
"Excuse me just a moment," Rita stood up and walked over to the other woman. She felt as if the eyes of everyone in the inn were on the two of them.
"Oh, you don't have to come over now," Kate said, wafting a hand towards Misha. "After dinner. You should enjoy your time with Misha."
"I wanted to apologize," Rita said. "I've been so busy lately, I forgot. The last couple days have been a blur for me, with so much happening, all this stuff about Yuèliàng and Aldwin..."
"Don't worry about it. A lot of us gendermorphs tend to get wrapped up in our jobs. Anything to distract us from our bodies."
"I'm sorry?"
"Listen, Rita. I too was once a man. I've seen my fair share of gendermorphs coming to terms with their bodies. We all handle it differently. If I were to guess, you're the kind to put off thinking about it, and channel that nervousness towards helping others. Is that right?"
Rita shrugged; a bit ashamed to have been called out. "Well, it's... I was never too attached to being a man to begin with. There are other things to worry about than my identity."
"Maybe there are, but not for long. Soon you'll be staying here or going back east with... Kasaima, was it? ... and you'll have nothing but time to think about it. I want you to be ready when that happens. When you start thinking about how you look, how you dress, how you think about men."
"What?"
"It happens. Some of us feel entirely reborn as women. Others... it's always different. You're always welcome in the scouts, you know. I wish all of my junior recruits showed your courage and initiative out there. But I shouldn't keep you. Misha's one of the best scouts there is. And one of the most generous hosts you'll find." She stood up. "If you ever need a permanent place to stay, there's a place in the Keep where many of our soldiers stay. Just tell the castellan at the armory, DeMule, that you're a new recruit under Kate. He'll tell you the rest."
"Thank you, ma'am," Rita said, quite aback. Kate bowed and headed to the counter. Rita returned the bow and returned to the group. Another less thing to worry about... and another gnawing uncertainty underneath.
Chapter 43: [Chris O’Kane]
Misha walked over to where Yuèliàng was. “Greetings. We are eager to hear more about the great weapon you bear. Yuèjiàn. How old is she?”
“I am some 4,000 years old,” Yuèjiàn answered. “And what of Whisper?”
“She is equally old,” Misha responded. “She has seen so much of history. Seen great rise to honor and glory and others fall to the pits of depravity. She has seen great empires rise, grow, stagnate and fall into ruin.”
“Greetings, my fellow in runes. I am Yuèjiàn, the Moon Sword. Who are you?" Came the soft voice from the magic blade.
A voice, soft but firm voice came from the axe. "I have had many names over the centuries, but you can call me Whisper. A name the lutins have given me."
"Well met Whisper. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."
"It is a pleasure to meet you. Been a long time since I have met one of our own."
"Yes, it has been long since I've even seen my sister, the Celestial Sword. Yet to know others of the runes are out there is a comfort."
"My four sisters are still out there but at least two of them lie nearby," the axe said. "Closer than in centuries past."
"I know not where my sister went, save that the corruption of the emperor somehow drove her away. Kasaima-san, however, has information that could help us find her. I hope you and your sisters are all reunited one day."
“I’ve heard a tale that you got here by walking over the Great Barrier range,” Misha said.
“Yes,” he responded. “A hard journey but I managed it.”
“Amazing!” Caroline said. “You are the first to do so.”
“It is an amazing trip,” he responded. “I saw many amazing things. So many natural wonders and lost history. Perhaps you can figure out this device. I found it along the way." He hands Misha an egg-shaped device with at tip like leaves. "I couldn't get it to open, and I didn't want to break it.
Misha took the egg-shaped item carefully. He examined it for a long moment. "Very interesting. It's certainly automaton. Where did you find it?"
"In one of the ruins along the way. I suspect there were more, but none were around or intact."
"VERY Interesting! You must tell me exactly where they are!" Misha said. "I will reward you well."
"If you have a map, I can show you their locations. Whether you can get to them is a different question."
The fox produced a map from a pocket and unfolded it to reveal a large map in some detail. "Where about?"
Kasaima made a mark several miles into the Barrier Range. "There is a path there—not smooth, but clearly visible. This building is where I found it. I tried to see if there were others, but I didn't find any. Of course, they may have been hidden somewhere: I wasn't looking to loot the place."
Misha examined the map for a moment. "That is a long way from anywhere."
"Indeed. If I'd known it would interest someone, I'd have done a more thorough search. However, I don't think I missed anything obvious—though I was eager to get to the Library here so didn't spend as much time as I could."
"Those mountains are filled with all sorts of lost and amazing things," Misha said. "So much to explore."
"Indeed!"
“Have you considered how you are going to get to the east?” Misha asked.
“We have a flying carpet,” he said.
“That’s good,” Misha responded. “But what path? There is a lot of territory between Metamor and the east. You cannot fly over the Aelfwood or they will shoot you down right away. And the Desert of Dreams is a deathtrap.”
“I came through the Great Barrier Range to get here,” he responded. “I can take the same route back.”
“Going to take a lot less time,” Misha joked. “But beware. There are things living up there that are dangerous.”
Chapter 44: A Humbling [Rimme]
Early Morning, June 6, 708 CR
Fourteen days. That was the longest that an unprotected human was known to withstand Metamor's curse. Rodrick had, for a long time, known that he had been born under a cursed star. Always he had to fight for a scrap of food and shelter. Always he had to outsmart the ignorant schlubs who grew up in comfort. Always he had to keep traveling before his marks caught onto his trickery.
How could a man like he possibly survive in Metamor, a land that only promised a long captivity before dying under some mage's assault, or a random lutin's arrow? Rodrick was a fighter, sure he was, but never with any formal training. Neither he, nor his comrades-in-arms, had the patience for training. All he had was years of observation and practice. Never was he to be controlled by any one man, or strangled by any one fate. Never!
Misha's eye had been constantly on him in the past few days. Sometimes the fox himself showed up, but most of the day it was under the eye of one of his trusted officers. Every evening they were made to clean one long section of pipe, before moving onto another corner of the Keep the next day. Rodrick didn't mind the foul smell of the middens, or how it caked his hands and stained his clothes. In fact, it gave him a sense of comfort. As a boy, he'd had to sleep by such pits of raw sewage, choking himself awake to avoid suffocating from lack of clean air.
Nathan had thrown up a couple times after they'd bursted a few particularly noxious pockets. It rather amused Rodrick. Nathan was a simple man, finding simple joys in camping, cooking, and tracking. How he didn't sick himself at the sight of blood, Rodrick could only assume it was because he was too simple to understand killing.
It was simple labor, too. After spending most of the night of loading the Keep's dung onto a wagon, they would haul it out from under the Keep, through the streets of Euper, out into the forests, and down to the farms of Lorland. In fact, it was very nearly the same route that Rodrick had taken just days ago on his mutiny. On horseback, it took only an hour. On foot, hauling the wagon took nearly six hours, long enough for the sun to rise and beat down on them. A small patrol of three escorted them, only lifting a hand when the wagon veered off-course. Thank the gods Nathan was silent through this whole treatment. Rodrick himself felt a deep groove in his tongue for all the times he'd bitten it.
Five days. That was how long this had gone on. After Jerrod's curse, it was just a matter of waiting for the curse to strike them. Every day that it didn't was a taunting reminder of how foolish Rodrick had been. If he had just trusted Gawyn, he would have been in Giftum by now. He would have perhaps gone on to Kelewair, or west to Elvquelin. Both were easy places to disappear to. There was one particular flour mill along the river to Duran's Crossing with an unlocked window, whose floors were so coated in flour, a good 10 minutes of scraping could fill a pouch for seven days. Sometimes it was worth it to wait until reaching the orchards outside Lersun, so that he could savor some sweetness with his flour.
His stomach suddenly growled. It was nearly noon, and he and Nathan were heading back to Metamor with an empty cart, on empty stomachs. If only they had some syrup to pour into their gruel. Or jams or jellies. Or those hard candies that the monks had once given him. Or delectable soft frosting that he'd plucked off a tart pie, or those fresh strawberries that drizzled down his face, or, or...
Rodrick's stomach kept squeezing itself even tighter as the fantasies came harder and faster. Every type of sweet food he'd even eaten, even some that he'd never eaten but always wanted, suddenly pelted every thought in his mind. He tried to squeeze it out. This was foolishness. He had no time to think about things he couldn't have.
He struggled to control his thoughts, but they resisted like ghosts through his fingers. But he refused to allow such ghosts to haunt him. He imagined a great wall of stone sealing off those desserts, reminding himself that they would never be his. He pictured them being sealed deep underground, as futile to recover as all the lost treasures of the world. He refocused his eyes on the road, on the heavy wooden beam before him, and the passively stupid Nathan beside him...
It was so unfair! Why did he have to be here, pulling this cart beside an idiot like Nathan, instead of wandering the world in search of treasure? He was supposed to be free! Why did he deserve to be a failure?
It was like a wild snake had grabbed his iron will, and twisted it around like putty. He was a minnow in the jaws of a great beast. His own past threatening to swallow him.
Rodrick was holding his breath again as he crept through the dimly lit room. The lady was distracted. He didn't dare make a sound. They always ignored him in the halls, when he was simply Jenny's brat. Here, he was a thief. But even a thief had to move fast, even for a lady who took as much time as Bella.
A shadow smacked him. Good for nothing brat! He was cold most of the time now. Jenny had lost all of her fine clothes and warm blankets. Under abandoned carts and bridges, they slept. Jenny kept him tied up. Sometimes she made him sing for money. She loved to hear him sing, and others did too. She took every coin he earned and smacked him every time he asked about his daddy.
There was a woman who said she knew his daddy. Jenny was away, so she cut his rope and put him on her cart. That night, she heated an iron rod. She said he needed to be a man for a moment. But he still screamed, because he was weak.
She scrubbed him down and gave him an itchy suit that was too big for him, but it was still the finest thing he'd ever worn. She took him to a great mansion, and she told the baron that she had found his long-lost heir. She showed off the burn that she said was the true son's birthmark and bid him sing his very best for the baron.
Failure. Like so many things, he was a failure. He was kept around for a few days in the servant's quarters, still thinking he had found his true home and his true father until the master-at-arms told him he was a fool...
"Stop! Stop! Fer heav'n's sakes, stop!"
He was running in the streets now, running away to find his father. Or maybe hoping the baron would send his men out and apologize, and adopt him for real, like he'd heard in the puppet shows. Instead, he slept in alleyways and gutters, selling his buttons for food. The more honestly he lived, the more hateful the response. Better that he not go begging and singing like a trained parrot. Better instead to steal from the washerwomen, pad his emaciated belly, and flee to the next town to sell "his" clothes for some pennies.
Then he got caught, because he was weak. It was a one-armed man who caught him, a man who carried everything on horseback, and spewed venom at every sign of weakness. He refused to release him, or reveal anything about himself, only that he was to be called "Master". But Master knew many things. He knew the ways of the sword, and taught him to hold and swing a sword, how to block an attack, how to draw and sheathe it quickly. He knew the ways of the thief, and told him how to sneak in through chimneys, how to steal bread with no one looking, how not to cry when under pain. There were many long nights of these lessons.
And Master also knew the ways of the mage. But he refused to teach Rodrick. The one time Rodrick asked, Master sealed his throat and stabbed him an invisible spear of pain. Master told him that was what life a mage led, unless he was ever-vigilant. For many nights afterward, Rodrick relived that pain. And now, under all those memories, it seemed to hit him as if for the first time.
There were people shouting all around him, and Rodrick didn't care. Rodrick could only listen to the ghosts of his past as they surrounded him and jeered at him. Rodrick could only flee their taunts by digging deeper and deeper into his secret past.
***
"Fer God's sakes, leave him alone! Can't ya see he's got the kid curse?"
The guards were poking at the shrinking man leaning against the beam in front of him, bawling heavily from some deep delirium. Rodrick was one of the toughest men Nathan knew, and Nathan had never seen him shed a tear, or even frown in anything but disgust. To see him seize up and start weeping uncontrollably was quite pitiable.
"Serves him right, the little hoodlum," one of the guards muttered. "Maybe now he's learned his lesson."
"Stop that!" Nathan said. "Leave him alone! Put him in the cart! I'll carry him the rest of the way!"
The guard narrowed her eyes at Nathan. "Don't give orders to us, prisoner. Remember you are here as his accomplice."
"Can't ya see he's not going anywhere?" Nathan pointed to Rodrick. He was continuing to shrink down, having been swallowed by his shirt. His cries were now a high-pitched youth's, and he was shrinking even further down into a toddler. The poor boy was completely lost and confused in his own thoughts. The rope manacles dangled free from the pile of clothing and sobbing child.
"He won't walk the rest of the way," Nathan said, casting his eyes down from the guard. "Please. Help him."
"The prisoner speaks truth, 'tis a prisoner of youth," the familiar winged horse boss said. "We'll be slowed to a crawl, if we're moving at all. Let him ride this once in the midden cart. At Euper, we'll know if he's changed his heart."
The guards grumbled and lifted the babe onto a corner of the cart, trying to keep his head free from his clothes. The baby writhed and wiggled in their grasp. Nathan was left to haul the wagon up front by himself, though the female guard did take position at the back to push it along, as well as to keep an eye on Rodrick, suspicious that it might yet be a ruse.
Nathan quite enjoyed pulling the cart. The air was so much fresher out here than in Euper, and it felt good to rest his weary arms on the beam and let his shoulders do the pushing. Nathan had hoped he'd get an animal curse, so he could spend more time outdoors, maybe have a big field to run around or fly in. Ever since Jerrod changed, he'd been thinking a lot about what animals he liked. He could accept losing his hands or his speech if it meant being outdoors all the time, feeling the soil beneath him. He could even accept being a beast of burden, like he was now.
But over the past couple days, he finally accepted that that was not his fate to be. The callouses in his hands had disappeared, along with the bunion on his foot. His breath came much easily, and he seemed to be full of energy when he awoke last evening. His hair felt softer, and a few of his scars had disappeared. Nathan was only in his mid thirties, but a lifetime of scouting and soldiering had left its marks on him, marks that vanished when he wasn't looking. Nathan hadn't lost much height or weight, nor much of his intelligence or attention span. But Nathan had never had much of those to begin with. It seemed more and more likely that he'd gotten a very slow child curse, not an animal's.
Nathan hadn't told Rodrick. He wanted to see how long until Rodrick noticed. He knew Rodrick was counting every day they'd been here. He also knew Rodrick was much cleverer than him, but often missed the simplest things. Nathan always preferred the simple pleasures of cooking, gathering, and fire-building, while Rodrick preferred to argue deeper topics like magic or history, or try to dig into other people's pasts.
The cart bounced and wobbled over the uneven path. The child inside, reduced now to a toddler, tossed and groaned in his stupor. What thoughts could be troubling him? Rodrick rarely talked of his past and hadn't been particularly close to him before the mutiny. Nathan had known he was a skilled fighter, though Gallus often called out Rodrick's lack of discipline and restraint. Nathan had been worried that Gwayn cared too much about his money than his own men, so when Rodrick asked him to help steal the horses, Nathan hadn't thought any harm would come of it. If only he had noticed the stableboy earlier, he might have distracted Rodrick before he'd drawn that knife. If only there was some way he could atone for his error.
The sobbing subsided. Rodrick was still and silent within the cart, swaddled in his old clothes. Perhaps he had fallen asleep. Perhaps that was for the best. Nathan hoped they were pleasant dreams, as the highest towers of Metamor Keep appeared through the wooded road.