Michellin

Wanderers

Kire smirked at his response, glad that he was seeing things her way, at least a little bit. “It’s almost noon, as far as I can tell. I’ve had breakfast, but I suppose I can eat a bit. Can’t go to Cordon too hungry in the middle of a festival.” She stood and stretched, walking ahead to the kitchen. “You need more tools around here, too, I think. And I’ll see about getting clues to their whereabouts.” She was quiet as she scrounged around for some leftovers, found some fowl leftover from when Sid had cooked. Kire didn’t bother heating it up again. Having bothered Ruli with her questions and gotten some meaty responses for once, she decided to leave him in peace while he ate.

Cordon was even busier when they returned. Kire’s strategy to keep herself from being tempted to find something to eat was, unfortunately, not successful; each street was filled with shops and taverns expecting more guests and tourists. There were travelling musicians this time, some of them accompanied by performers. Kire looked sidelong at Rulitus, remembering how he had reacted their first time around here and wondering what he thought of all this. As fun as such festivals usually were, she knew this would potentially make her search more complicated. On the other hand, this might also mean it wouldn’t be too unusual to see newcomers to the city going about and asking for information.

She could hear songs being played about Lord Itallo, and she vaguely remembered some of the information she had overheard from other patrons. She could also see men walking around with bouquets, accompanied by troubadours, as well as young women receiving flowers from such men. “Ah.”

Wanderers

Kire shook her head. “No. Not in this world. Though our worlds have similarities, or we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, literally.” She smirked a little. “I have been trying to tell you. But I guess it’s hard to fathom. I’m surprised Envy figured it out and accepted it so quickly.” She watched the stream, same as Ruli, though after a few moments she began fiddling with a pebble before tossing it into the water. “I have no idea how or why those Seers make the choices they do. They’re supposed to be clairvoyants, seeing different branches of the future. I tried asking, once, and the best They could tell me is they make ‘educated guesses’.” Kire snorted at that. “So many lives at stake, so much bloodshed, because some ethereal beings are tinkering with Time. Poking at the splitting branches of the future and seeing where the next bit goes. Now that sounds like the work of gods, too.”

She was silent at his question. She had rehearsed the answers over and over with herself. “You don’t understand,” she began, though not unkindly, “when I say it takes a lot of energy and blood to summon a world gate, I mean imagine a whole town’s worth of blood, at the least. It is very complicated magic. I suppose, if gods really did exist, that’s precisely why they made opening world-gates taboo. A lot could go wrong just from the spells, the rune-circles, the conduits of power that you’ve chosen. And you need to sacrifice blood to it. You need a small army of sorcerers to complete such a ritual to begin with, and even then you’re not guaranteed success. Most difficult of all, you’re not even sure for how long that gate will stay open. Without the Ring, one ritual equals a one-way portal.”

Kire’s hand, which had been resting on one knee, dug in as she spoke. “There had been an attempt on a large scale once. Many, many years ago. I was about—forty? The blood-mages cordoned off a whole town and its surrounding land, but something went wrong. Or went right, I don’t know. The consequences of their summoning brought a catastrophe called the Black Storm that destroyed many places in my country, killed many Amrians. The fact that Ikegai might still be here in your world means he hasn’t been able to open another gate just yet. Some good news, if that counts as good news.” She sighed deeply.

“There are other reasons for him wanting this Ring, though. Before I went to search for him again and came to Ziad, I demanded that the Seers answer that very question. I suspect it might have to do with that obsession with me I told you about before. All they’ll tell me is that he would have been the one to receive the Ring’s power, had he not fallen and become what he is today. Probably it’s a mix of both.” She could see clearly the skies of the Black Storm, the strange red lightning, skies so black it almost became night. Kire huffed, frowning. "Plenty messed-up, isn't it?"

Wanderers

Kire watched him as he, no doubt, contemplated on whether or not to say anything. When he spoke, his answer wasn’t what she had expected, but it confirmed what could be pieced together from the little she had been told. Bastards, foreigners, half-breeds. The heavy weight that the word brought upon Rulitus was clear. She may not know the details, but the way his body sunk at the utterance wasn’t unfamiliar. “Understood.”

When he changed the subject, though, Kire snapped back to look at him. “Ha! Well, now. I suppose it was only a matter of time before somebody figured it out.” She smirked at him, then held out her right hand in front of her. “Yes. The power it has, though, is to open portals and act as a conduit to whatever magical energy lies dormant in my blood. The Ring was bequeathed to me. Ikegai’s been lusting after this, though it wouldn’t answer to anybody but me.” She held it up to the light, where the sapphire stone caught the sun and glinted. “There are—beings—we call them Seers. And they would give this power to someone they would call the Paladin. Someone to watch over the land, use the power wisely, be a protector. With this, I can summon the portals without needing an elaborate ritual, or a cataclysm that would rip the veil between worlds. As you’ve already seen, it takes a lot of energy to open the portals regardless. Without the Ring, you would need a lot of energy, and a lot of blood.”

Kire frowned, fuming at the thought. “Somehow, Ikegai managed to open one, undoubtedly with my enemies’ help, but it would be a hard feat to replicate by himself, without any other blood mages to help. It’s possible he still has his eyes set on opening a world-gate. What he plans to do with it, I can only guess.”

Wanderers

Kire’s lip curled in hatred the more she learned about these Kartaians. “As if they weren’t formidable enough with their size and Shadow-Walking.” Kire stewed in silence for a while. “That’s atrocious,” she commented after the silence. “No wonder Ikegai and Akuma struck a deal with them.” She was glad that they didn’t have the power the Kartaians did. Likewise, at least the Kartaians would have to have been within reach, and without Ikegai’s help, presumably, they wouldn’t attack during the day. When Ruli told her how Envy used the power in his own way, Kire nodded, not surprised that someone with his disposition would use it for something good.

She was lost in thought again, pondering on the scope and possibilities of such a power. Useful. Dangerous. “I wonder what he used to get you to soften up then,” she said aloud, not really expecting him to tell her. Imagining it was amusing enough. “But they better have that contingency ready anytime now. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared as soon as possible. Desperate people cooped up in groups can get volatile very fast. And hopefully you’ll stay and help with that, too,” she added, looking sidelong at him for a moment. He kept talking about Zeke’s escape plan as if he was the only one Envy could rely on; Kire dearly hoped this wasn’t Ruli thinking about shutting himself off and running away from them. He’s their first line of defense, Sid said. Maybe someday he can be, again. “They need you here.”

She sank back into silence, thinking over all the information he had shared with her. She almost drank from her now-empty cup, pouted when she realized, then put it back down. Her gaze on the water in front of them, she asked in a quiet voice, “Why do you have the Shadow-Walking?” She tapped her cup absentmindedly. “When I said to Envy that this power that I have was given to me, rather than me being born with it, he said it was unlike him and you. So you were born with it.” She paused, then looked at him and shrugged. “If that’s too personal, don’t answer.” She was already expecting some jibe about her being too nosy for her own good, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Wanderers

The theology questions were making Kire's mind itch. "I've never been given a sufficient reason to believe they are real before. And if they were real, where in all the seven hells are they? Powerful lot, but nary a trace when mortals really need them? I-- never mind," she muttered, shaking her head, stopping herself before she got too worked up. "I've seen a dragon. It was frightening, and magnificent." Kire smirked at the memory. "I promised Envy I'd tell him about it. He looked really curious when I mentioned it."

She grimaced at the thought of Kartaian weapons, clicking her tongue and shaking her head slightly. "They're quite creative with their cruelty, aren't they." She listened to him explain how Envy would be defended by the people he had sheltered and raised, and that he still had his Shadow-Walking. It didn't assuage all her fears. "You need to see where you're going to Shadow-Walk, right? And it'll be doubly hard for him, won't it?" She sighed. "Envy said Zeke had to make up a ruse. Pretend he's a prisoner. That won't last forever."

Kire glanced at him. "This other power, though. This Touch. You mentioned it before. Envy can do it, too, I presume? How does it work? Communicating something, like pain, that's one thing. By 'compel', I assume you mean the Touch can give a Kartaian absolute control over your mind, so long as they are in contact with your skin?"

Wanderers

"Wait a moment." Kire frowned. "So these two gods, they were--are--real? Really gods?" She had assumed the story Ruli had just told her was a mythic version of the truth, with parts exaggerated or embellished, but the more he spoke, the more he made it sound like he was talking as if every detail was objective fact. For a few moments she forgot Ruli was there, lost in thought. After all, before she had received the Ring, she had thought all that--Paladins, dragons, elves, portals--was all a myth. They did have what Amrians call "Off-Worlders" who had brought the 'common tongue' to Amria many generations ago. Kire, however, had come to believe that as just another story based on a truth, that these people might have simply come from somewhere very, very far from the mainland continent of Amria and had been branded as so exotic they couldn't have been of this earth. "Hm. I suppose if dragons are real and elves are real, it isn't too big of a leap to imagine gods are real." Kire wrinkled her nose at that. "Either way. In any story involving a god, it's never been good news to be a god's lover." Kire didn't feel too sympathetic to Akay; if he was a god, he should have known better. But the woman he had loved, who made the sacrifice for her children, Kire felt for her. "It's always the mortal lover who pays the price for gods' mistakes, isn't it?"

She didn't fail to notice him neglecting to elaborate on Aera, but Kire decided not to needle him about it. His story about Envy's past was plenty interesting, at least. "What an absolutely barbaric lot, these Kartaians," Kire said, grimacing at the absurdity of thinking the mere fact of sharing a womb was some challenge to be met with violence. And yet Envy was Kartaian, born from that life. "I suppose if you were from that clan, being a decent person really is an abomination. I'm surprised his sister didn't smother him in his sleep. I have been worried about him being in close proximity to people who fear and hate his kind, however." She pointed her thumb back at the mountain. "I feel if that tension isn't resolved one way or another, it'll come to a head eventually."

Wanderers

Kire sat cross-legged, drinking slowly from her cup as he washed his face. She listened to his story, imagining the two gods, though she wasn’t used to hearing about the sun as the female aspect. The philandering male god, though, now that was just typical. “Kartaian, Raielwen, Akarielwen, Jyavian, Taryn,” Kire repeated softly, though her tongue stumbled over the names. She fell silent again after that as he finished the story with Aera, the elf that had stayed with them in the Tunnels. She finished the rest of her coffee now that it wasn’t too hot. “I’ve always wondered,” she began, stretching her arms as she spoke, “how come whenever I am told a story about the origin of some thing or some race, it’s always about some gods being bloodthirsty bastards?”

She looked out at the stream, thinking over the story, her fingers tapping on the cup. “Why is it always a tragedy with these myths?” she muttered. This didn’t help her opinion of the gods at all. But at least that’s another thing Amria and this world had in common. “This Aera must not have taken to you and Envy, if she hadn’t kept up a correspondence. Unless that’s just how these Raielwens are.” She frowned at that for a few moments. “So, if the Kartaians had long been this cruel, Envy’s a rare good egg. How’d he end up the way he did?—in Ziad, I mean, and also, you know, not a murderer. And if all elves are supposed to be immortal, does that mean Envy is, too?”

Wanderers

Kire didn’t reply at first, waiting till the coffee was ready. Once it was, she poured herself a cup, drizzled honey on it, and tasted it. Better. Wish we had milk or cream. “Why not both?” she replied, arching a brow at him. “It might be tedious for you, but remember, there are no elves in my world. Given that my enemy’s gotten into bed with elves, so to speak, it wouldn’t hurt to know more. Besides, now that I’ve got a new face on, figured a conversation with me this time would be a fraction more pleasant. Sounds like an acceptable way to spend the morning over a cup of coffee.” She smirked briefly at that, before sipping from her cup.

“If you’d rather we get to work, though, I’m ready when you are. Supply run at Cordon, and I could poke around and see about this Gemini lead.”

Wanderers

Kire listened, intrigued at his explanation about the beginnings of Ziad’s prosperity. She must ask Envy sometime how old he was and how he had stumbled upon Ziad in the first place. “He’s practically the king of Ziad,” she put in, following him into the kitchen. She noted with some amusement how quickly he gulped down the second cup, then went to measure out a new batch of beans to brew, making a note to adjust this batch to make it stronger. Kire frowned as she worked, though, hearing about the apathy of the other cities. “Ysaryn did mention that they answered the call. The silence from the other elf colony is unfortunate, however. But given that Ziad had survivors, perhaps they did, as well.”

She went to prepare the second pot of coffee and set it over the fire. “Did you know any of the elves from that other colony?” she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the cavern wall. “If they know about Kartaians and have the kind of magic Envy knows about, surely there must have been a way they could’ve defended themselves at least?”

Wanderers

“Probably the only one around here who prefers that,” Kire commented, amused. “She likes my hair. And she was hoping you’d make my skin like hers.” She grinned, amused at the thought. As he stood, her eyes went to his unruly hair and her mouth twitched. “They’re as alright as one can be when your whole family’s exiled,” she answered, hands clasped behind her. “They’re also convinced I will get myself killed here anytime now. Not wrong, but still.” She huffed at that.

“Now that I’m wearing this, I suppose I can return to Cordon soon,” she remarked, heading back out the sleeping chamber. “I was wondering though, had no other city been informed by what happened in Ziad? I imagine something that catastrophic should raise an alarm among cities that are familiar with the place. And I can’t imagine Ziad is the only city that’s been threatened by Kartaians before.”