It Began in a Tavern (Official) (Part 1)

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Post #21 written by @Louanne Learning ​

Hemios emptied his goblet of honey mead in one long gulp. The fortifying liquid diffused a warm feeling throughout his body. He sat in his stuffed chair in his chamber, contemplating Barnabas’ bold move, yet another attempt to bring all the accolades upon himself. It was easy for him to ride the countryside to that infernal tavern, but the trip would surely strain Hemios’ unused muscles. A whole day upon a horse!

But his mistrust of Barnabas could not be ignored. With a groan, Hemios lifted himself from the chair, adjusted his blue velvet mage’s robe, and made the walk down stone halls and stairs to Barnabas’ laboratory. As he passed by the barred cells, he glanced at the prisoners kept within. Roman Demid, the instigator of all the trouble, lay on his cot with his face to the wall. Oh, that had been a tough ether to contain.

Hemios continued on to find Barnabas at his desk in the back room. He turned to greet him, and beckoned him to come in. Instead, Hemios remained standing in the doorway. “When do you depart for the Wooden Ladle?” he asked.

“On the morrow,” he replied.

“Oh? So soon?”

“Duty calls.”

“Ah, yes, about that—” Hemios straightened his back with resolve, “—I plan to join you.”

Barnabas’ grin was sly and knowing. “Oh?”

“Yes, yes, I will ride with you there. I hear the hilly regions are lovely this time of the year.”

“Certainly. You may be of some use to me.”

Hemios popped his eyebrows at the condescension. “I have more knowledge of blue fire in my ass than you do in your whole body.”

Barnabas laughed, then said, “I seek not to understand blue fire, only to discover where Roman Demid got it from.”

***

The High Scientist and the High Mage, together with two guards, steered their horses on the bridle path along a ridge thick with trees and bush. Barnabas looked sideways at Hemios repositioning himself in the saddle. “How fares the backside?” Barnabas asked.

“Tip-top. Never better. If it were any more magnificent, it would be singing praises in heaven.”

“Oh, alright … I thought it might be that knowledge of blue fire you store there letting itself be known.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

***

On the ridge thick with trees and bush, a flat slab of grey slate along the bridle path protruded out and over the river below. Katara lay on her back on this table-rock, gazing at the leaves overhead, rimmed in gold by the shafts of light breaking through. She wondered, if the leaves let the sunshine inside, what did they do with it? And why don’t human beings absorb sunlight, too? The only things people took in were food and water. But—yet—both trees and humans grew. Everything alive grew. She supposed that people grew because they ate. So, did the trees somehow use the sunlight for the same purpose? But their roots branched underground. What went on beneath the surface? Maybe that was where plant food was found—

Katara’s thoughts were interrupted by the neigh of a horse, and then the soft thud of approaching hooves. She got on her feet, and waited for them to appear, emerging from behind the dense foliage. Suddenly, four strange men on horseback were before her. They halted their horses and regarded her, as she regarded them. Her gaze wandered from one face to the other, and settled on the good-looking man with long, dark hair, dressed in leather tunic and pants. A shiver went up her spine, and her jaw dropped.

“Don’t be alarmed, young miss,” he said. “I am Barnabas, the High Scientist, and this man here is Hemios, the High Mage.” Hemios bobbed his head in greeting, and Barnabas went on, “We seek a landing place—the Wooden Ladle. Do you know it?”
 
Post #22 written by Gravy/Luxuria
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Alisso made his way downstairs to the tavern kitchen with the half-finished mug of soup. He dumped the remainder and cleaned the cup along with the other breakfast dishes. At first, he was worried Rust had found his way here. But on the other hand, it was a blessing. Now Alisso could state the two were even, in a way. Even though he was grateful for Rust for saving his life, Alisso did not like being in debt to anyone.

Especially Rust.

We're finally even. You saved my life and I’m saving yours by not ratting out your ass to Bossman.

Once done, he went to find Bossman to ask how the repairs were going. If Nalki was actually working, not just talking, it was possible the tavern could open again that night.

When Alisso walked into the main tavern room, Bossman asked what he needed while the woman in blue quickly left. I bet she’s still scared of me. Shame. But it’s her choice.

“Are we opening tonight?” Alisso asked, half-listening to Nalki’s story. The repairman had not paused his tale when Alisso came into the room. “I mean, how close is he to fixing this mess?”

“Now, now, be polite,” Bossman reminded him. “Nalki is working as quickly as possible.”

“Right,” Alisso did not believe him for a moment. “Anyway, I think scared Olive. Kinda feel bad about it.”

“Don’t worry,” Bossman slowly stood and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll go talk to her.” The older man left Alisso to stare down at Nalki who was still cheerfully chatting away.

“Stop talking and get to work,” Alisso ordered and sat down in the now empty chair. Before Nalki could reply though, the door to the tavern opened and Katara walked. Behind her were two people, one dressed in a white tunic and leather and the other in rich purple mage robes. “Hey, we’re not open.”

“Don’t worry,” the one in the tunic said, gesturing for Alisso to sit down again. “We won’t be long. I merely wish to speak with the owner of this tavern.”

“Sure, whatever.” Alisso glanced toward the kitchen doors. “Hey, Bossman! We’ve got guests!”

“Tell them we’re closed!” the man called back moments later.

Alisso glanced at the pompous strangers. “What he said. We’re closed.”

“We are the High Mage and Scientist, Advisers to the Queen,” the mage said, glancing at the other. "We merely wish to speak with the owner of the tavern. Would you please get him?"

"Fine, fine," Alisso muttered and wandered off into the kitchen in search of Bossman, leaving Katara to deal with the unwanted guests.
 
Post #23 written by @IgnitedxSoul
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Sitting at the desk in the attic of the Wooden Ladle Olive had a clear view of the wilderness on the outskirts of town. She ran up here to chase off the feeling of shame roiling through her. Despite her concerns, she opened herself up to someone and fumbled it, again. She had tried to follow Nalki’s instructions, infusing his ether with her own. The outcome was supposed to be wood, solid floor growing up from the crater as if no damage had been done at all. Instead what they created was a sort of spongey substance with the texture of mushrooms. Nothing remotely suitable for a tavern floor.

She had looked up to see Bossman staring down at her intently. His expression was indiscernible, but Olive assumed the disappointment she felt was reflected in his eyes. Nalki was kind, however. He deftly severed the amalgam from the wood and set it aside. Then, he let out a soft chuckle.

“This reminds me of that time my cousin and I were assigned to repair a trade ship mid journey across the great sea…” His voice trailed off as Olive lost focus. She heard the kitchen door open behind her and as she saw Ravenna—or was it still Alisso? She couldn’t know—approaching. It was all too much. She couldn’t bear another person looking at her shoddy craftsmanship. So she quickly got up, and left the way Ravenna had come.

Ignoring Dusca’s frustrated question, asking where Olive was off to, she shut herself away in her room, where she now found herself. She softened, however, at the sight of freshly laundered clothes, new to her, folded neatly on the bed. It was a kindness she felt she didn’t deserve, but appreciated regardless. If she couldn’t figure out her ether, though, she did not know how she could possibly repay them.

There came a knock at the door. “Go away,” Olive said, weakly.

“Are you decent?” Bossman asked.

Olive considered lying, but didn’t. “Yeah,” she mumbled.

Bossman let himself in, softly shutting the door behind himself. Olive didn’t turn around. She watched in the distance as Katara led two men on horseback toward the tavern. They looked official, Mage and Scientist class respectively. That certainly wasn’t good. She thought they had heard the end of it when Araspeth’s crew carted off Roman, but what other purpose could these men have for coming here?

“Ravenna thinks you’re scared ah’ her,” he said. “What’s that about?” He walked over and leaned against desk, his back toward the window. The men grew closer.

Olive shook her head. “It’s nothing, really. I just… I told you I’m no good with my ether. I thought I could do what Nalki asked but I made a fool of myself.”

Bossman furrowed his brow and looked at the young woman with a serious expression. He opened his mouth to talk when Ravenna yelled out from below.

"Hey, Bossman! We’ve got guests!”

The old man frowned and ran a hand over his face. He whispered to Olive, “I swear, it’s never ending with these people.” Then he shouted back to Ravenna. “Tell them we’re closed!”

He looked back to Olive. “You haven’t disappointed anyone,” he said. His voice has such sincere finality that Olive felt struck by the words. When she didn’t reply, Bossman continued. “There’s a lot you could learn from Nalki. Sure, he’s a bit of a talker, but he’s talented and he’s clearly taken kindly to you. Let him teach you.”

“And if he gives up on me too?” Olive asked.

“He won’t,” Bossman said. This time with a soft smile.

Another knock at the door and Olive increasingly became convinced that while she stayed here she would get no true privacy. Bossman patted her sympathetically on the shoulder and answered the door.

Ravenna stood there, huffy and frustrated, her voice full of mockery. “Two men were led here by Katara. They claim to be the High Mage and Scientist and they specifically asked to talk to you.”

It was subtle, but Olive thought she saw Bossman’s back straighten and skin flush.

“Let’s see what they want, then,” Bossman said, leading the way down the stairs. He didn’t remotely try to finish the conversation with Olive, and that worried her.
 
Post #25 written by @ps102 ​

Dusca pressed her ear tighter against the kitchen door. Her father’s footsteps, treading firmly down the stairway, thumped in rhythm with that of her heartbeat.

There, on the other side, were two very powerful men. Two very, very powerful men.

Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her palm tightened around the door handle.

Their power and their ranks was not what scared Dusca. It was something else entirely.

Her father’s footsteps came to a halt.

“Well, well,” Bossman finally began, “The High Mage and The High Scientist. What pleasure do we owe your visit at our humble tavern?”

“Roman Demid,” said that voice. Yes, that voice. She didn’t mistake it. She couldn’t mistake it. She was sure of it. She was sure of it the first time. Yet, she listened harder. She had to confirm. She had to be sure.

“Yes, it’s about that case,” replied the other voice. The one that claimed itself as the High Mage. That one didn’t strike her as familiar. Not even a little bit. Friend? Acquantince? Brother? It went on. “We seek to clear up some… observations.”

“We know nothing,” Bossman asserted firmly. “This Roman person merely happened to dine at my place. That is all.”

“Nothing, huh?”

There it was again. Dusca’s arm nearly moved. She wanted to open the door. She wanted to see for herself. But just as she turned it, her whole body froze solid.

Katara was on the other side. If she barged into the scene now, and if her suspicisons were true, he was bound to recognize her. And then, he was bound to make other observations. Observations she wasn’t sure she wanted to exist.

Her breaths quickened, as did her mind. Her mind spun faster than those wind mills down the green hills, split by that silver river she’s forever known. The same river Katara has always known.

The river… a stream of water, endlessly rushing from down the country mountains. Dusca briefly recalled that storm from ten years ago. A storm that threatened to flood their community into a minature ocean.

Pictures of that day flashed through her mind. Water, chaotically raining down from the open heavens, smiting the land with purple rods of lightning which sweeped through the fields. Pure chaos from just water.

Water. The River. Chaos. Chaos creates distraction.

Dusca let go of the door. The bad memories faded into golden light. “The green window-staring brat!” she muttered to herself. Bossman gave her the attic. But to reach the attic, she had to go through the tavern hall.

“We’re not convinced!” exclaimed Barnabas. “And if necessary, we’ll use force. We always get what we want. You should know that about us.”

Dusca immediately dashed for the backdoor. Always got what he wanted? That’s not wrong.

But this time, she knew, it will be different.

***

Olive stood beside the attic window, gaze cast outwards the vast hills. The now-red sun, dipped behind the big mountain the horizon, drenched her figure in scarlet rays. The noticable but not so loud voices from below her feet muffled past her ears—past her.

For a moment—and only for a moment—those sunrays reached deep into her soul and shed light into scenery from long ago. That of an orange ocean, drunk with the sun in its ripply, vast plane. A wave washed into the coast, rich in golden sand.

She turned to find someone by her side. A blurry figure. The figure dissolved and spread its darkness in a flash that brings Olive back into the present.

It was not the first time she recalled that scarlet scenery. But it was her first—and only memory—from a life she so craved to know.

The sound of a knock grabbed her attention. She spun towards the attic door to find nothing. Just those voices from below. Then the knock sounded again. She turned to find Dusca behind the attic window.

“Wh—“

Dusca gave another loud knock. Olive snapped back into reality and rushed to open the window. Her new employer breathlessly jumped inside and immediately latched into her shoulders. “You!” she toned in a whisper. “You’re a mage!”

“U-uh, n-no… I—“

“I don’t have time for games!” she shook her rapidly. “We have an emergency, you hear? Emergency! And I know you can use magic.”

“Ah, em, uhm…” Olive twisted her tongue several times before she composed coherent words. “I uh um, yes. But actually, no.”

Dusca shook her even more rapidly. “I know you can! Don’t you lie to me. Bossman told me all about it. You’re a klutz, but you can do it!”

“T-that! I can do it. But I’ll flood the whole tavern…”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what I want. Do it!”

“Wait a minute… why—“

Finally, Dusca stopped quaking Olive. She let go off her shoulders and looked straight into her with a stone cold gaze. “I can’t explain. I just need you to flood everything to create distraction.”

“A distr— f-for what? What will that do?”

“Surprise them!” Dusca urged. “After that, I-l’ll take the opportunity to hide. I can’t let them see me.”

“B-b-but why?”

“Don’t ask! They can’t be around Katara for long either. You understand?”

“B-b-but—“

“You understand?” Dusca repeated herself heavily.

“Y-yeah…”

“Good. I depend on you. Do not fail.”

Dusca went to hide. Olive stayed where she was and closed her eyes.

***

By that point, Bossman and Barnabas were face to face. Bossman did not move a muscle. He stood his ground. “I have nothing to hide,” he said with a straight face. “I am telling you everything that I know.”

Silence followed and their eyes stayed still. Then, abruptly, Barnabas turned his back again with a little laugh. He took a good look at Ravenna, and then another at Katara. “She must be a relative of yours. Daughter? Granddaughter?” He asked without giving much opportunity for an answer. “It doesn’t matter. Hemios… do your thing.”

Hemios grunted. “Don’t order me around,” he whined, but nonetheless opened his palm towards Katara. Within a split second, she became encased in solid ice that reached all the way to her mouth. She struggled, and struggled, but little Katara could not even speak.

Barnabas laughed and faced Bossman once again. He still remained firm to his ground, but his face had gone visibly red. “One little squeeze and she’ll be minced! Do you have anything to add now?”

“She has nothing to do this,” he protested calmly. “Let her go. I am the one you want.”

“Oh, please don’t worry. I won’t mince her! Not if you’re telling the truth.”

“I am,” Bossman insisted.

“Hemios!” Barnabas made the biggest grin yet. “Come and perform your only notable invention—truth magic.”

“Shut up, insufferable swine.” Hemios came forward and raised his palm. “The only reason I am cooperating is because you’re acting in the interest of our queen.”

“Whom you’re infatuated with!”

“Do you want me to encase you in ice as well?”

“That wouldn’t be in the interest of our queen.”

Hemios grunted. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“Just do it already.”

Bossman, at last, stepped back. “I’m not—“

Hemios forced his way. “This won’t hurt. It’ll only last for a minute. A minute where you’ll tell us everything.”

“Unless you’ve got something else you want to say, old man!” Barnabas added. “It might just save the kid.”

Just then, the ceiling creaked as little droplets of water slipped past the planks. Barnabas’ smirk disappeared. “What the—“

And before they realized it, warm water violently rushed down the stairway and slapped Hemios, Barnabas, and Bossman straight into the corner. Hemios rushed to his feet and attempted to freeze everything except them solid.

But then, out of nowhere, his hand became grasped by someone. “You will not,” Hemios heard.

He then turned and saw her—the blue-hooded figure. Gamma.

“Who— Who are you?”

Gamma glowed with pure Ether, the levels of which Hemios had only seen in the royal family. “I am your worst nightmare,” answered Gamma. “Not them, but me. I did it all. I am responsible.’

Hemios jumped back along with Barnabas. “We’re retreating. Now,” Hemios whispered to his ear. “We’ll have to come back later.”

The air around Gamma distorted. “There won’t be a later. This is the end. I know what your queen wants with the gear fragments.”

Those words struck the two men like a hammer. But nothing more needed to be said. Hemios did a handmotion and spawned a smoke explosion. Everything dissolved in a smoky screen, and the two men fled behind it.

Gamma, however, did not follow. She turned towards Bossman and nodded. So did he. There wasn’t any need for it. Not now.

And then, she vanished Into thin air. The smoke slowly did as well, revealing a wet and once again messy tavern.

Bossman sighed. “Give me a break...”
 
Post #26 written by @Louanne Learning ​

Olive ran from the commotion, ran from the demands, as if running from her own power. Along the bridle path out behind the tavern she escaped, stumbling through the dense woods, all the way to the outcropping of rock near the small waterfall. Stopped short, waterside, she panted with shortness of breath and emotion.

The comforting whoosh of the waterfall eased her troubled heart. She stood with reverent eyes fixed on it and her consciousness melted into its purifying presence. “Water is life,” she whispered, and then disrobed, slowly and carefully. In her natural state, she waded into a pool in the stream that reached to her shoulders. The silky feel of the water on her bare skin brought her a new awareness. She was in her element. There was no claim on her here, only the immersive calm of being.

Her solitude was interrupted by the appearance of the robed mage who had sent the High Scientist and the High Mage into retreat. “I am Gamma,” she said, standing waterside.

Olive shrank with apprehension.

“Do not fear,” Gamma went on. “Put your faith in your magic.”

Instinctively, Olive knew Gamma was on her side. “Its power frightens me,” she replied.

‘That is because you have not yet put your whole trust in it. Put your whole trust in it, and it will serve you well.”

“I … don’t … know how.”

“I will help you.” Gamma glanced at the waterfall. “Go, go into the cascade. Be one with the water. Be one with its power.”

Olive obeyed. She waded to the waterfall, and stood under it, eyes closed in ecstasy, letting the deluge of cool, clear water wash over her, baptize her from head to toe. She was the water, and the water was her. She could not hold it in her hand, but she could hold it in her being.

And then Gamma’s voice came into her head. “Believe in the water … Believe in you.”

***

Katara shivered, and Dusca wrapped her arms around her. The sound of Barnabas’ laughter at Katara being bound in ice still rang in Dusca’s mind, and hardened her heart. It was a good thing she hadn’t shown herself, or else she might have been tempted to thrust a knife into his eye. All romantic notions were laid aside.

“Are they coming back?” Katara, clearly distressed, asked her mother.

For all of Katara’s life, Dusca had protected her from the spectre of her father. Suddenly, the need to protect her became much more pressing—and real. All the pain and hurt of Barnabas’ abandonment those many years ago choked Dusca, and firmed her resolve. “If they do … I will kill them.”
 
Post #27 written by Gravy/Luxuria
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Don’t do that, Alisso thought to himself as he put another log on the kitchen fire. The soup long gone and in its place, a roaring fire to warm up Katara. Let me do it. No need to get your hands dirty, Dusca. You need to be there for Katara- no matter what.

Alisso had been lingering near the steps leading down to the first floor when he heard Dusca talking to Olive while Bossman dealt with the two government officials. Then, the tavern flooded and the two had fled. But Alisso was grateful they had. By the time he and Bossman got Katara out of the ice, she was turning blue.

He wished, looking back on the events of the day, there was something he could have done. But he didn’t have any magic, and didn’t want to be sent back to one of the labs. So, all Alisso was able to do was run down the steps to the kitchen and grab as much wood as possible. The same wood that was now burning as it did not become drenched like everything else on the main floor. Even though the initial wave moved away from the kitchen, the water still flooded in under the doors. Then, Bossman and Nalki came running to find wooden meat mallets. When Alisso heard them talking, he ventured downstairs to make sure he was hearing things right.

“We need to get Katara out of the ice-“

“Well, Olive’s upstairs,” Alisso told Nalki who rushed up to see if she could help melt the ice. Once he was gone, Alisso handed Bossman one of the mallets and the two rushed out to the main tavern room.

And to think I thought it was a mess this morning, Alisso thought as all the tables had been washed throughout the room- some out the door. All the chairs were broken and everything was damp. All the work Nalki had done was also gone and Alisso wondered how the upper-floor was still standing. Hopefully it won’t come crashing down. Or maybe, it should. We’re all better off dead than lab rats.

“It’s going to be okay, Katara,” Bossman said calmly, making Alisso realize he was already hammering away at the ice. He went over and joined the older man. They weren’t using any wedges as the last thing either wanted was to hurt Katara. Thankfully though, even without the other tools, Bossman and Alisso began making decent dents in the ice that was beginning to melt anyway.

Even magic was subject to the elements and thankfully, it was a warm day.

Within ten minutes, Katara was carefully extracted from the ice and Dusca came running with a quilt. When the four retreated to the kitchen and Alisso began building a fire, Nalki came back downstairs.
“I can’t find her,” he said, the concern and worry a cloud over his whole being. “Do you think I should go look for her? I mean, I don’t want her to run into the-"

“Go on, then,” Bossman said and Nalki quickly left. “And I am going to go find some more wood. What we have won’t last all night and it’s supposed to get cold.”

He excused himself, leaving Alisso with Dusca and Katara. The two were speaking softly to one another, so Alisso figured he should stay out of it. That worked for him as he was tired and didn’t feel like dealing with whatever they were discussing.

The whole day had been a wreck and now, more than anything, he wanted to curl up in bed. But at the same time, Alisso didn’t want the day to end. Because he didn’t want to know what would happen tomorrow. With the tavern closed for the foreseeable future, what would become of the safety to which he had foolishly become accustom?

I don’t want to leave.

But why did I even think I would be here forever?
He was tired. Alisso made sure the fire was fed another log and sat down in one of the spare chairs. Maybe some sleep would help- besides, if Ravenna was in danger, he would be the first to know. So, a little rest for the weary was in order.

It will be okay.
That’s all she knew. No matter what happened before, it was over and now, all she could do was comfort those who had been hurt. Whomever made the fire and wrapped the young girl in the quilt was doing a good job so far. However, Nari knew there was more to be done.

She got out of the chair and began searching the shelves for any healing herbs. She hadn’t read any books about it, but she had learned things from the other lab rats. There were no herbs in the cells, but on occasion, there were healing mages from time to time who found themselves demoted to Lab Rat. Some would arrive with their quality robes still stuffed to the brim with herbs. A few shared what they had, others kept the supplies to themselves. While one, Nari still remembered, gave away all his herbs and asked for someone to kill him. A wish that was granted by the others who were grateful for the care they received. Some tried to grow the herbs in the cells, but there was not enough light. So the minimal amount of care given to the lab rats was all most had.

Nari however, did all she could learn of the healing arts. Questioning the scientists who dragged her back to her cell, cut apart and sewn together. Questioning healing mages who offered herbs and sometimes even used magic to ease the pain of those around them.

That’s all I want to do. She told one of the healing mages. The older woman laughed and said she had no Ether. Well, how do I get some, then?

Oh, dearie. That’s forbidden magic. I am afraid I can’t-

Please. I need to protect my sister.

Your sister won’t look you in the eye if you take someone’s Ether. It is the most taboo of all magical crimes.

Then, I must know it. If it is to save another, I will make you tell me.

Not so sweet after all, are we? The old woman chuckled. If you must know, it is simple. Ether is a part of us, like blood it flows through our veins. Do with that as you will. But know, it will not replenish.

That didn’t matter to Nari. There were plenty of mages who came and went- the dying did not need the blood she drained from them into one of the wooden buckets. Using it was another story. Nari discovered the hard way that she could not drink much at all at a time, nor did it seem to work. The spells she tried created nothing and it was not until then, Nari realized what the old woman meant.

It flows through our veins.

And so she tried a different method. It wasn’t difficult to secure the tools, even though they were used and Nari had a surplus of blood. When she first tried injecting the liquid, it took mere minutes for her to feel the effects. But even in her feverish, nauseous state, Nari learned her suspicious were correct. But as the old woman warned, a few spells later, the magic ceased to work.

But Nari could still feel the tingling, almost gnawing sensation of magic in her body, so tried again once she felt well enough. Over time, she managed to inject enough Ether in the her veins to trick a few healing mage into sharing their skills. With this, she healed her sister when she hurt and now, placed her hands on Katara’s head.

Warm yellow light danced from her fingertips and into Katara’s shivering body. Under her touch, Nari felt her stop shaking and that was all she needed to know she had done the right thing. No matter how ‘taboo’ it was, nor how sick the blood made her feel, Nari had the power to heal those in need.
 
Post #28 written by @IgnitedxSoul ​

While being a member of the high court did come with its benefits, it also came with a mountain of paperwork. For the arrest of Roman Demid alone, Araspeth was tasked with writing a violent encounter debrief, a prisoner intake form, a public use of magic record, and an on-the-job training hours document. That last one was for one of her platinum mages who was on a probationary period for misconduct. She damn near ran her ink well dry from all the writing, and from the past two years of doing this, her fingers had thoroughly calloused where she held the quill.

She had wanted to attend Roman’s initial interrogation. She adored watching her mother’s puppets squirm beneath her, but she was not granted the chance. Due to her… circumstances, she can’t risk any scrutiny upon her or her work. Everything must be flawless at all times. Any inquiry into her past could result in exile at best, but more than likely execution.

Araspeth looked around her quarters, taking the space in. Even after all this time, the space felt surreal. Most of her youth was spent in the back room of a tannery, the rancid smells of decaying flesh, animal urine, and dung lingering in the air. Her father’s work was grueling, he made very little money, and the caustic chemicals used to prep the skins grew venom so deep in him that even the strongest of healing mages couldn’t have saved his life. Then her mother took to rebellion, and Araspeth herself, at the time too young to know better, followed suit.

But now? She had everything she ever wanted, right at her fingertips. Hot meals every day, thick curtains that kept out the cold drafts late at night, silken sheets, and thick woolen quilts. It was all luxury her urchin child self couldn’t have even fathomed. It wasn’t just the luxury, though, that set her mind straight. Despite everything her mother had tried to convince her of, her time rising the ranks to High Priestess taught her some harsh realities those in the rebellion refused to face.

The world is hard, sure. Many suffer through poverty or struggle with disease. That is just the natural order. The way things are meant to be. But the scientists, those who answer to Barnabas, are seeking things far more valuable than the costs. Magic is dying. It’s happening slowly, but with time, the total volume of ether seems to be dissipating. Every few years, the census makes it clear: there are fewer and fewer magic users. And if they are gone, everyone can be damn sure that disease will be truly rampant then. But if we can harness it… if we can bend magic to our will, or prevent it from dying…

So yes, mom. Araspeth thinks. I’ll happily sacrifice hundreds more if that can save the lives of generations. Seeing vile, mutinous cretins like Roman writhe against progress, and fail… well that was just a little bonus.
 
Post #29 written by Gravy/Luxuria​

@EFMingo skips his turn and is placed in Vacation Mode. He is free to return to the story when he wishes.
 
Post #30 written by @ps102 ​

As a member of the high court, Araspeth was officially employed by the city’s Central Royal Hall—a big building that housed various government departments. Many such halls were spread around the country, tasked with forming a local government to keep every part of the country in order.

Araspeth had much to file. She went there first thing in the morning and walked the main hall’s broad carpets, coloured red just like roses. On each side, pillars of fine stone extended up to the dome ceiling made of little stained glass panels. The coloured glass formed a picture of their queen, reaching towards the bright sun.

“A symbol of the greatness we work towards. Isn’t that great?”

She recognized that voice. Araspeth turned back to find Wiktor—the head of the Policing & Justice Department.

“There are many who would disagree with that,” Araspeth commented quietly.

Wiktor smiled. “It matters not. Our Queen wants nothing more than happiness and prosperity for her people. What some others think is irrelevant. We do what we must.”

In return, Araspeth smiled back. “Right on!”

“I imagine you’re here to report on the Cliffcross Incident.”

Araspeth shook her head. “They’ve yet to dispatch me.”

“They— they haven’t? You’d think they’d have the High Priestess do that.”

“So did I.”

“Then who is investigating?”

“No idea…” she shrugged her shoulders. She expected to be dispatched by the High Court any day, but the letter of summons never arrived on her doorstep.

Wiktor cast his gaze on the red carpet. “I was hoping you’d tell me. How can time just stop in the Cliffcross region? It makes no sense.”

It indeed didn’t. Ever since the phenomenon was confirmed, much unrest spread across every department. The first day they received that drawing of those droplets—suspended in midair below an oak leaf—they couldn’t stop speaking of the region. Of birds, rivers and mountains, frozen in time.

“There are many rumours.” Wiktor went on. “There are supposedly more areas where time has stopped.”

“We’ve not confirmed them.” Araspeth coldly replied. “It could be just that—rumours. Lies.”

“I sometimes think that those drawings are lies too.”

“They aren’t.” Araspeth gripped her platinum badge tightly. “We work together towards greatness. Why would our own departments fake reality with fictious drawings? Think straight.”

“Of course…” Wiktor agreed in a low voice.

“Well, it was nice to chat, but I’ve much to do. I’ll tell you if I have any news on the matter.”

“Right, thanks. See you around?”

Araspeth turned away and raised her arm in the air. “See you around.”

Then she went forward on the red carpet with firm footsteps. She kept her hands firm on that platinum badge all the while. Time stopping? It spooked her more than anyone in the entire building. But she had faith. They would get through it together with the others.

Surely, the Queen that trusted her so much with that role would summon her soon. Araspeth believed that.

***

Barnabas, seated by the chair of the study room, reviewed the fresh paper pile submitted to him by his lab assistant, Kate. They were reports on the results of the latest experiments on subjects A-61, Z-21 and H-01. Kate was the only one he could possibly trust with those particular tests subjects.

He flipped a page, made a note in his personal leatherbound book, and read on the next entry.

Log entry: 003

Test Subject: H-01

Test Sequence: 032


Subject H-01 was injected with fragment 002. Immediately after, an increase in the Ether network was observed. Heightened activity in vitals was observed. Distortions in psychological state observed.

Ten seconds after injection, subject showed signs of confusion. Ether network activity increased further during this time. Higher production of E-cells observed. Loss of control observed.

Twenty seconds after injection, Ether network activity increased exponential. Mental deterioration observed. Loss of control observed. Spatial distortions observed.

Spatial distortions? Barnabas raised a brow and went on.

Thirty seconds after injection, Ether network activity continues to increase. Mental break down observed. Loss of sanity observed. Danger to environment highly likely.

Thirty five seconds after injection, emergency extraction of fragment performed. No immediate change in state. Fragment immediately sealed.

Fourty seconds after initial injection, Ether activity continues to increase. Spatial distortions reduced. Subject mental state continues to decline.

End of log. Subject terminated on emergency. Experiment concluded fourty-three seconds after initial injection.

Barnabas sighed, set the paper down, and noted the initial observation of spatial effect on his leather book. He pictured the spatial distortion—the many ways it could look. He wished he was there that day, but he was too busy chasing the unknown in that odd tavern.

He recalled that girl he had Hemios trap in a pillar of ice. It was the third time he recalled her face. But he had no idea why. He slumped back in the chair in the chair and let it be. He pictured her and realized it.

Her face reminds him of someone. Who?

The loud kick of the door dragged him straight out of thought. He turned to find Hemios in his leaner robes. The ones he uses for battle.

“Blast it!” He marched inside after violently kicking the door to a close.

Barnabas picked up the papers again. “What’s up? Have you finally realized that the queen is out of your league?”

Hemios gritted his teeth. “I’ve no time for your silly jokes. I can’t get that blasted spell to cast.”

“Which one? There are many of those.”

His face turned cherry red. “S-Shut up! I’m a man of experimentation. How many experiments do you fail?”

“Not many. I have those below me to do the dirty work.”

“You’re horrible.”

Barnabas slowly shifted his gaze towards Hemios with a smirk. “So are you. So is the queen. We’re all horrible. There is not a single good person in this entire castle.”

“Don’t speak of our queen like that.”

“How blind you are.” Barnabas turned his attention back to those experiments. A line caught his eye—sudden vessel implosion confirmed. “There is no such thing as good. There is no such thing as bad, Hemios. We all do what we must. That’s the motto we sell to those rats a hundred levels below our feet. They think it means to do what we must for the greater good, but really, we do what we must to attain what we want. What our queen wants.”

Hemios clicked his teeth. “Burn in hell, you nihilist. I believe that our queen is doing what she is doing for the greater good.”

Barnabas laughed loudly. “You’re delusional.”

Hemios clenched his teeth and palms. Ether started to sip between his fingers. Then, he took a long, deep breath and let his palms loose again. “I just want to ask one thing. How are the experiments going?”

“Horrible,” Barnabas answered simply.

“Work harder, then! We need to understand those fragments better. Are they really what we think they are?”

“Considering time stops when we remove them from their place, I’d say so.”

“I’d like to see how you can keep covering this up from the High Priestess. She’ll turn on us if she finds out.”

“No, she won’t. It’s that simple.”

“Good luck with that.” Hemios removed the book he sought from the library self. “I’ll go study this and I’ll try to cast it again.”

Barnabas didn’t say anything. He just smiled as he read on and took notes. Hemios walked towards the door. Then, he stopped and said, “I might just try it on you so be careful!”

Hemios waited for a reply. But none was made. He shut the door loudly and marched down the hall.

One of these days… I’ll show him!
 
Post #31 written by @Louanne Learning ​

Katara looked at Ravenna with suspicious eyes. She had never seen a lab rat do magic before. The warm yellow light from Ravenna’s fingertips had instantly soothed. It seemed this lab rat was not who she claimed to be.

Early the next morning, Ravenna was out in the yard, tending to a large laundry cauldron over the fire, boiling the bed sheets. With a long, wooden paddle, she stirred. Katara, primed for a confrontation, approached her. “You said you were a Poet,” Katara said, accusation in her tone.

Ravenna snapped her eyes to Katara. “I was, am—came from a Poet family.”

“You healed me,” Katara stated, coldly.

Ravenna looked away, then shyly met Katara’s eyes again. “It was Nari.”

“Who?”

“Nari.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

Ravenna’s chest began to rise and fall. “Nari is my other self,” she whispered.

Speechless, Katara tucked in her chin with perplexity.

Ravenna, in a rush, went on, “She comes to me when things get overwhelming. She comes as a respite from the pain. I can’t survive without her.”

“Are you telling me—are you telling me that you are deranged?”

“No. No! Please, please, don’t tell anyone. I just need a friend. Please, Katara, be my friend.”

Katara took the long, wooden paddle from Ravenna and stirred the pot. “If you do something for me,” she said.

***

Araspeth snuffed out the candle and tucked herself in bed. She was not long on her pillow when the candle magically re-lit and a familiar figure in yellow robes stood bedside. “Hello mother,” Araspeth grumbled, then pulled herself up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here?”

Gamma, the Mage of Autumn Time, clasped her hands to her heart. “Aren’t you glad to see your Mumma?” she asked.

“Thrilled.”

“You are looking pale. Have you been eating right?”

“Mom, please—”

“And what have you done with your hair? You know, a little bit of curl would perk you up.”

Araspeth fixed an unamused stare, out of the tops of her eyes, at her mother. “What do you want?”

Gamma took a seat on the bed beside her High Priestess daughter. She pressed her shoulder to hers. “I want you with me,” she said. “There are evil doings afoot, and they can be traced to your dear leader, the Queen.”

“I will not sit here and listen to you disparage the Queen—”

“I want to protect you from her.”

“I need no protection.”

“If you do not join our side, I cannot even protect you from my compatriots.”

Araspeth shot up to her feet. “Is that a threat?”

“No, no—”

“You know where my allegiance lies.”

“Yes, with yourself.”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“I thought I raised you better.”

“Guilt, Mom? Really? I will not be manipulated.”

Gamma got on her feet, too. She took her daughter by the shoulders. “This is bigger than you,” she said, “—this is bigger than me. It has been my greatest regret that you are not with me. Please, be with me on this. Our very existence hangs in the balance.”

Araspeth grit her teeth. “I am not a traitor.”

Gamma’s face fell in sadness. “Oh, but you are … you are.”

The candle went out, and Gamma was gone.

***

The blooms of little yellow flowers in the brush of the woods arrested Olive’s attention. They could not grow without water. She knew how they felt. Water was life.

“Gamma,” she called.

And then Gamma appeared. “Hello, my little one,” she said.

“Will you help me discover who I am?” Olive asked.

“I will.”

“I am with you.”

“I’m glad … I had thought to spread my hope around, but I am quite content to put all my hope in you.”
 
Post #32 written by Gravy/Luxuria

​
It was little surprise to Ravenna when Katara requested she do her chores the rest of the week. The young girl was predicable in that way; but Ravenna could not blame her for wanting to spend time in nature, rather than in the ruined tavern.

Nalki had returned that morning and together, he and Bossman began putting the place back together. The two shoo’d Ravenna and Katara outdoors where the younger merely wanted to enjoy the nice day. So, Ravenna agreed to take over her chores.

“Good choice, lab rat,” Katara said, adding, “because I doubt you want it to get around you’re a liar.”

“What makes you say that?” Ravenna wondered aloud as Katara ran off to get her sketch book. When she was gone, Ravenna sighed and went back to work. She added the soap and began to stir it into the laundry pot, ensuring to twist the clothes to get in all the creases.

By the time Katara came back and ran past toward the pond, Ravenna could use a break. The steam was specially hot today and made her head spin. But there was work to be done as always, so continued.

~~~
What a fool, Katara thought as she wandered toward the pond. But as she approached, she heard voices— one she knew had to be Olive and another she did not. She moved to hide behind a tree, but from the vantage point, couldn’t see the other person; but listened intently regardless.

“Will you help me discover who I am?” the strange water mage asked of the other.

“I will.” An older and wiser voice said, making Katara try to pinpoint who was speaking. It wasn’t her mom. It wasn’t her grandpa either, but…it had to be someone she knew, right? The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “I am with you.”

“I’m glad…” Olive said.

“I had thought to spread my hope around, but I am quite content to put all my hope in you. Well, shall we begin?” the older lady asked and Katara decided remain where she was, interested to learn more.
~~~

It only made logical sense. Why was her father not understanding what she was saying? They were speaking the same language, but somehow, he did not understand why she and Katara must leave the tavern.

“It’s just safer to stay here,” Bossman told her, leaning on the mop in his hands. He and Dusca had been cleaning since Nalki left. The man said nothing could be fixed until it was clean— so clean, they did.
“Besides, you two leaving will raise suspicions if he ever comes back here.”

“I don’t want him to come back here!” Dusca yelled again, wishing her father understood. “That whole thing was a mistake- the biggest mistake I have ever made, don’t you understand that?”

“I do, honey, I do.” Her father sighed and allowed her continue.

“He was so sweet when we met and then, I learned who he really was. Selfish, entitled and I want nothing to do with him and I want Katara to have nothing to do with him, either. She’s bad enough already! You know how she treats Ravenna.”

“I do.”

“Imagine if she knew who she was.” Dusca wanted her father to think hard on the matter. “She would leave for the palace and I would never see her again and she… she wouldn’t want me anymore. I think that’s what scares me most. That Baranabas will win and I will never see her again. Because she would be too angry at me to even understand why I kept all this from her.”

“All the more reason to stay here,” Bossman pointed out. “Because if you move out, Katara will have questions— ones you don’t wish to answer.”

Dusca fell silent and after a moment, only nodded.

“We will deal with all of this in due time,” Bossman laid a hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

~~~

Ravenna didn’t remember a lot of things. Where she was. What she was doing. What time it was. Especially time. She had felt a sharp pain in her left side and then, woke up in bed, days later. She knew she had lived those days, but they were hazy like fog had settled into her mind. So, like always, Ravenna let the matter go and continued on with her day. Which was her plan when Nalki picked her off the ground next to the laundry pot, but he wouldn’t listen to her protests.

“You look horrible,” he said, his hand coming to rest on her forehead again, making Ravenna shiver. “Not to mention, you're burning up. To think, I lost the keys to my house and had to backtrack my whole day. Sure, my husband has another set, but I didn’t want to wait out front until he got home. So, I came back here and found the front doors locked.”

Ravenna nodded the best she could as the man continued to detail his ‘adventures’.

“And then I saw you passed out next to the laundry pot. I can’t just leave you there can I?” He said, opening the back door of the tavern, which was strangely unlocked. Ravenna would have thought she locked it, but maybe Katara forgot on her way back outside. It didn’t matter much though in the grand scheme of things— it wasn’t like there was much of anything to steal from the tavern that hadn’t washed out the front door.

“Hey! Bossman!” Nalki called as he walked into the kitchen from the outside. “I need some help!”

“What do you need?” Bossman called back, sounding exasperated as if Nalki’s return was expected. “I am in the middle of—“

“I left my keys!”

“Well, I haven’t seen them!”

“And Ravenna passed out!” Nalki added as if remembering that other fact. The moment he said this, Bossman came running into the kitchen, the swinging wooden door slamming into the wall.

“Why didn’t you say that first?!” Bossman demanded of the young man. “Don’t you think that’s more important than your keys?”

“Yeah, but I forgot why I walked in here,” Nalki admitted with a shrug. “But now you know!”

Ravenna wished Nalki wasn’t holding her so tightly as she tried to move away from Bossman’s hand that came to rest on her forehead. She didn’t like being examined— by anyone. She was fine on her own, anyway. If Nalki hadn’t shown up, she would have picked herself off the ground and continued her work. Bossman didn’t need to fuss over her, or look so worried.

“I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, but the man refused to listen like the other. Instead, he asked Nalki if he knew any healers who could work on the low-down. No, I don’t want—

“Sure, I can see if my husband can stop by after work,” the man said, “he does work at the local hospital and I am sure he’d be happy look over Ravenna.”

“But…” She wanted to say she was a mere lab-rat. If Nalki’s husband worked for the city, he could turn her in. The reward for turning in a lab-rat was not much, but enough to make the entire poet class into snitches. Thankfully, Bossman seemed to understand her concerns.

“I appreciate it, but I am not sure a city healer is someone I trust.”

“Because she’s a lab rat?” Nalki asked, no flourish to his words or voice. “No need to worry. Charin works with a few on the low-down who wander to our home occasionally for help. He’s no snitch. All he asks in return for his services is not to snitch on him. He would lose his job if anyone learned of his kind acts.”

“…Okay.” Bossman said. “Please have him come to the tavern when he’s off work. In the meantime, you need to rest, Ravenna.”

He led the way upstairs and Nalki followed.

“Set her down here,” Bossman gestured to the nearest pile of blankets one might use for a bed. “And please, go leave Charin a note and come back. I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Understood,” Nalki nodded and moved out of Ravenna’s line of sight. When he was gone, Bossman was at her side.

“Tell me what happened,” he said gently as she shivered under the blankets he placed over her. “I want to—“

“No,” Ravenna shook her head. Nari would be angry if she told anyone. It was their secret. “I can’t.”

“All right,” Bossman said and sat with her until Nalki returned and took his place.
 
Post #33 written by @IgnitedxSoul ​


The journey was a days travel by ship, and once they landed at the docks Wren paid the captain heartily. With all of the rumor spreading—and how quickly it was—there were very few people willing to take anyone to Cliffcross. A handful Wren had tried persuading with the threat of the Queen’s court upon them, but many saw through his bluff. The platinum brooch on his robes a painfully obvious marker of his status. But he had been tasked with making a team consisting of himself and two bronze mages to investigate the mysterious phenomenon.

Once the team was all disembarked, the captain quickly left the dock and sailed out into the open water. Wren was struck by the eerie silence. There was not another person within eyesight when once, just a year prior, when Wren had come here on a different assignment, it was a busy trade hub. Cliffcross was the most prominent city-state in the Fire Region that was easily accessible by ship. It served as the main import for the rest of the region. Where once there were dozens of sailors, merchants, and urchin children skittering about here or there, there was now no one. There was not even an animal call that Wren could discern. All he could hear were the waves rising and falling, slapping against the stilts of the dock.

With him were two Bronze mages, both shy of their platinum rank by only a few training hours. He wanted the most experienced mages he could find, given the uncertainty of their situation. It took some string pulling and a few promises of favors, but he had an air and a fire mage to compliment his earth magic.

Olten, the short, stout, incessant fire mage, did not hesitate at landfall. He strode on ahead, hardly even checking for the ground beneath his feet. Wren admired his tenacity, but had concerns about his self-restraint. And there was Pria, the quiet and contemplative air mage. She wore spectacles and stayed by Wren’s side through their whole journey even to now. Though she was quiet, Wren read her reports. He knew her competency hidden behind that passive demeanor.

“Oi, Olten,” Wren called out to the younger mage. Olten turned and waved. He did not stop his momentum, walking backwards now instead. Wren continued, “Slow down, won’t ya? We still have a ways to go, and I don’t want you tiring out on me!”

Olten stopped and frowned, slouching over with a playful dismay. Pria let out a soft chuckle and Wren thought that maybe she was enamored. Or she was mocking Olten internally, Wren couldn’t tell.

Regrouped, they continued on as a unit. Up the steep paths that took them to the winding routes at the base of the mountains which were barely wide enough for horses and carriage. Pria took out her sketch pad and flipped through the pages, which Olten quickly took an interest in. Wren kept his focus ahead, still alert for any signs of life. The longer and longer they went without any, the more the hairs on Wren’s neck rose.

“You don’t really think time stopped there, do you?” Olten asked. It didn’t seem directed at any one person in particular but was certainly prompted by the drawings Pria had made of the rumors.

“It’s what the reports say,” Pria replied.

“I dunno,” Olten continued, “I think it’s an exaggeration. The way stories grow with each ear to mouth it passes through.”

“You did read the eyewitness accounts we were given in our briefs, right?” Pria asked. Wren appreciated that question, just as much as he was frustrated by Olten’s response.

“You really read the entire packet they gave us? That would have taken me a month!”

“With a warm cup of tea, perched in a window at the library. I read it in an evening,” Pria said.

“Showoff,” Olten huffed. The group continued on in silence while Pria began work on another sketch.

Wren masked the smile that forced its way onto his face. He’d learned to like these kids, despite himself. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t become attached, but they were already growing on him.

They turned a corner along the trail and far off in the distance was their first sighting of the area some of his peers had started calling the “exclusion zone.” It wasn’t quite what Wren had expected. He didn’t know what an area frozen in time would look like, but he expected it to be… obvious? Maybe some great discoloration or distortion? Instead all that was clearly before them at the distance was a quiet city encased by mountains on one side and dense forest on the other.

The oddity of the situation became clearer the closer they got and Wren got a sickening twist in his stomach. It was true, exactly as he had heard it, and then some. In what seemed to be a large dome encapsulating the city, there were hundreds of independent drops of rain, suspended in the air. The majority of them were well above the city, creating a cascade of prismatic colors as the bright daylight shone through them and illuminated everything beneath.

The outskirts of the city were empty, but further in Wren could see people and animals, frozen in place, horses mid-stride, birds in mid-air, their wings half flapped, children mid chase in what appeared to be a game of tag. The entire square was a snapshot of a singular moment which, if the reports were correct—and Wren has grown to believe they absolutely were—has been like this now for nearly three days.

Olten stopped in his tracks at the sight of them, his eyes wide and face flush. “Are they… dead?” He asked.

“We don’t know,” Wren replied.

Pria, still steady and collected, chimed in. “According to the reports, we’re the first people properly investigating. Everyone else fled as soon as they were able.”

Wren slowly walked closer, the two bronze mages lingering behind. As he approached the exclusion zone Wren felt a tugging sensation in his chest, the hairs on his whole body standing on end, every sense in his body screaming to run as far away from here as he could. It intensified the closer he got.

Pria’s voice trembled as she spoke. “Sir? I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

Certainly she was right, but the assignment was to investigate, and his curiosity deepened the closer he walked. He felt as though he were being incrementally slowed, little by little, as he approached. Cautiously, he stopped and waved his arm before his face, feeling the newfound resistance in the air. It was almost like moving through water.

He looked up again, examining the frozen scene, and settled on the nearest rain drops. They weren’t totally still, instead they were every so slowly falling to the ground. His gaze drifted to the nearest bird, a raven, which he realized was starting to move at an increasing, albeit still crawling, pace. The closer it drifted to him, the quicker it moved, as though this resistance grew weaker and weaker the further from the source it became. The group was stunned and watched in awe for nearly a minute as it grew in speed. Its movements were noticeable now, but still hours, if not days, away from breaching the zone.

Wren finally stepped back, his heart now racing in his chest. He approached his proteges and hoped he masked the fear that consumed him. “Let’s not stand here gawking all day,” he said. “We need to establish a base camp.”
 
Post #34 written by @ps102
​
Hemios found Queen Melina in the usual room—the one she built into the castle shortly after her ascension to the throne. Clad in her dark steel armour, she stood in the middle of the room completely still. The cobalt blue walls around her depicted root-like drawings of pure white. They started from the bottom and intertwined with one another as they reached the domed ceiling, built by orange glass shaped just like the sun.

The same glass dome existed across all major royal buildings across the country. To many, they symbolised greatness.

To the queen, they symbolised something much more than that.

Hemios always found the room to be rather creepy. Those white roots somehow looked alive, almost as if they wanted to reach that sun. It reminded him of a sanctuary. Perhaps, his knowledge of the truth is what made it so.

Queen Melina, still in that trance and with her eyes closed, bloomed in sunrays cast by the sundome. Her emblem of the crescent moon glinted brilliantly against the yellowish glow.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and smiled at Hemios. “It’s all so mysterious, is it not?” She glanced up the ceiling. “We’re here, but where is here? Where did we come from? Legend has it that a dazzling light brought us here a very long time ago.”

He made no reply to that. The queen loved to monologue out loud. Nothing could stop her.

But that was okay. He didn’t want to stop her.

The queen rose her hand towards the brightness. “I want to know. I want to know what we are. I want to know where we are. I want to understand this reality—this perfect mixture of light and darkness. I want to find it. To find the root of existence. And once I do,” she clasped her hand around the air, “I’ll cease it for myself.”

Hemios stepped forth the room with a smile to match the queen’s. “You’re always so mysterious, Your Majesty. Grasp the roots of existence?” He shrugged. “I’ve always wondered what you meant by that.”

“Yet, you are happy to help get me there, aren’t you?”

“I will always be in your service.” He bowed.

“You’re most loyal.”

“As I will always be. Whatever you intend to do, it must only be right.”

The queen crossed her arms. “I sense no lies in your words. But you and I both know the truth. You know what it is that I really seek.”

Hemios’s eye twitched.

“Do not worry. You’re not the last person to learn. Others in your position did. Then, they all tried to end me. I’m sure you can imagine how that ended.” She tilted her head and widened her smile. The ground below her feet quaked lightly. “But you, Hemios, have done no such thing. You’ve remained loyal.”

He made no reply.

“You and I know what it is that I seek. And I, too, know what it is that you really desire. My offer to you is as such.” The queen came face to face with Hemios. “Help me get what I want, and I’ll give you what it is that you want. That is my promise to you.”

----

Olive stood in a plane of total and complete darkness. The only thing that existed was a speck of orange light in the distance. She walked towards it. The speck grew larger and the sound of a violin started to come through.

She froze. The melody—slow, melow and so tender—washed over her alongside the waves of the sea. Then, there it was again. That figure shrouded in darkness. It played the viollin. And her heart fluttered in response. Frozen, she listened, and soon, her eyes grew blurry with tears.

The figure faded along with the song. She tried to grab it. To run towards it. But all she managed was to fall on her knees.

An arm of kindness reached out and lightly pressed on her shoulder. She knew who it was. She was used to it now. “It must hurt to not know your roots.”

Olive, still on her knees, conceded. “I’ll never come to know them. I’m too weak to.”

Gamma floated in front of Olive and stood tall. Her yellow robes were bright in the darkness of Olive’s heart. “Weakness comes from within.”

“I’m naturally weak. I cannot do so many simple things that others can.”

“That doesn’t define you. Your weakness is your greatest strength.”

Olive wiped her tears. “That isn’t true.”

Gamma raised her voice. “You cannot think like this. You will never come to know the shores you so desire.”

The mere mention of it momentarily flashed in her mind. Waves clashed and burst over scarlet rays. The overwhelmingly nostalgic violin brought more tears to her eyes.

“I can’t do it.” She wiped tears that wouldn’t stop. “I’ve tried for years. I’ll never know.”

“But I do.”

Those words pierced through Olive’s tears. “What?”

“I know you. I know your real name. I know who you really are.”

Olive’s bones stiffened. “You’ve got— You’ve got to tell me!”

Gamma didn’t budge. She stood in her place like a wall of stone. “No,” she refused. “I cannot tell you. Your heart isn’t strong enough to handle the truth.”

Those words crushed her. She speechlessly stared at Gamma’s hood, casting shadow on her mysterious face.

“Do not misunderstand me. Your heart isn’t strong enough as it is now, but it can grow strong. Only then will I tell you.”

“But… but… when will that be? When will I be strong enough?”

“There is a great danger looming closer and closer each day. You’ll have to grow strong to overcome it. When you do, you will be strong enough to know.”

Olive’s eyes went wide. “What danger? What’ll happen to me?”

“That is also something I cannot tell you. You cannot worry about that. You just need to focus on yourself. But do know that this danger is about everyone, and not just yourself.” Gamma extended her hand towards Olive. “It will take everyone to overcome it. I can take you there. Trust in me.”

Olive took a step back. “I can’t do it.”

And Gamma one forward. “You can.”

“Magic is beyond my reach.”

“Yes,” Gamma nodded. “Yes it is. Traditional magic is not something you can do. But unconventional magic is within your reach. And you can become very, very powerful. Trust in me.”

This time, Olive didn’t take a step back. Unconventional magic? She’d never heard of it before. The phrase enticed something within her.

“Take my hand. I’ll lead you to your shores.”

“I want to know one thing. Can you at least tell me? Tell me about that song? What is it? It always strikes so hard.”

Gamma floated in momentary silence. Then, she told her, “That is your song, Olive. You were a lover of music.”

Lover of music. Her heartbeat went faster than it ever had. “And that figure! Who is it? Please tell me!”

“That,” Gamma said, “I cannot answer. Not right now. Take my hand and you’ll eventually come to know."

Olive stared at Gamma’s hand. Her vision switched between those shores and her hand. After a moment, she took it, and a white patch of white light appeared below them. They drowned in a bright flash and Olive woke up, drenched in sweat.

She shot up from her bed and dashed for the window. The crescent moon floated amongst the stars, twinkling in discordant rhythm with the chirps of the night crickets.

One thing was certain: Nothing was a dream. The whole night, she stared at those stars and jumped between the many different types of possibilities.
​
 
Post #35 written by @Louanne Learning
​
Near Cliffcross, beyond a stand of pines, Wren selected a small cave for their base camp. Olten set to building a fire, with just a touch of his fingertip, for he was a fire mage. Sitting by the fire, they made a meal of dried cod and bread.

Pria only nibbled. She lost all sense of the here and now in her sketch book. The raven trying to break back into the flow of time had captured her imagination. The bird she drew had a hollow look. Had the world been hollowed out? “I have never before seen rain suspended mid-air,” she said.

Sometimes, Wren felt he had seen it all, but the jar he held in his hand—containing rain droplets frozen in time—held secrets. They’d collected samples from the affected areas, in order that Barnabas could analyze them for their fragments. “These interrupted droplets are of great interest to the queen,” Wren said.

Olten shrugged. “Droplets of stout ale interest me more.”

“Humph,” Pria quipped, “and much more familiar.”

Olten, feigning offense, tucked in his chin. “Did she make a joke?” he teased. “What, our Pria?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stranger things have happened.”

Wren shook the jar of floating water droplets. They did not move. “Just imagine the power,” he said, “to do this.”

They sat and stared into the fire, and then, as if from nowhere, what sounded like a bow whispering across the strings of a violin, a fragile sound of longing, filled the air. Wren’s eyes went up. “What was that?” he asked.

The single scrape turned into a melancholy concert. The three of them sat forward, listening with alert ears, eyes turned up, to the intimate strains of the violin. There was no visible source of the ghostly music, only its wailing call, as if it had remembered something awful.

“The plot thickens,” Olten said.

Wren rubbed his face. “I know that song.”

“It invites closeness,” Pria offered.

“Aye, aye,” Wren concurred. “It draws you in.”

***

In the tavern, the tableful of Highland soldiers from the North made a commotion. They drank heartily, and sang songs testifying to their military tradition. “With their bonnets an’ feathers, an’ glittering gear, an’ bagpipes soundin’ loud an’ clear! Will they return to their own dear glen? Will they return? Our Highland men!”

A young soldier with pink cheeks and leonine hair askew grabbed Katara by the arm and pulled her to sit on his lap. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “What a fine fruit ye are!”

She did not resist. She revelled in the attention, and dipped her chin to him. “You seem a little ripe,” she said.

They locked eyes. “That I am. But ‘tis a fine thing, to have a drink, an’ sing the auld tunes. Now, tell me, are ye an apple or a peach?”

“Peach, no doubt.”

“Oh?”

“Apples are boring. Commonplace. Apple sauce, apple cider, apple slump, apple crowdy, apple tarts. My grandfather even distills a sort of whiskey from rotten apples and calls it brandy.”

“But peaches are a cut above.”

“That’s so. They’re tender. They ooze with nectar.”

His grin was knowing. “A sort o’ wet sloppiness,” he said.

Katara licked her lips. “A good snack.”

Suddenly, a rough hand grabbed Katara by the wrist and yanked her up. Dusca pulled her through the tavern, and through the kitchen. Only once in the back yard did she let go. “Will you be carrying on like a strumpet?” she demanded, her eyes on fire.

Katara, perplexed, blinked. “I was just having fun.”

“Fun! You made a spectacle of yourself.”

The bile of anger rose up Katara’s gullet. “Would you rather me be an old hag like you?”

Dusca recoiled, as if slapped. “Katara,” she entreated, in a more even tone, “—men only want one thing from you, and that is to use you.”

Thoughts of Katara’s father—and his effect on her mother—immediately came to mind. Her anger melted away, and she dropped her chin with suppliance. “He hurt you badly,” she said.

“Who?”

“My father.”

Gaping, eyes stunned wide, Dusca was rendered speechless. Katara pressed on, “I should be able to make up my own mind about him.”

Dusca firmed her mouth with determination. “I’ll tell you this,” she said, “—he cares not at all for either of us.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Shall I send you to him, only to have your heart broken?”

“My heart is broken now!”

Dusca slumped with misery. “Katara, Katara—”

Katara spun on a heel and broke free. Her breath harsh in her throat, she ran through the woods, along the bridle path, all the way to the little opening by the waterfall in the stream. She stopped short. There, sitting on boulders waterside, was her grandfather, Bossman, with a strange figure in yellow robes. Without alerting them to her presence, she hid herself in the stand of trees behind them.

“I am anxious to mount our offensive,” Bossman said.

“She is not ready,” the figure in yellow replied.
​
 
Post #36 written by Gravy/Luxuria​
He could escape.

It wouldn’t be easy, but thanks to her, he finally figured out how to do it- what piece had been missing from his plan. Nari already given him all the resources- the blood, the used needles. Now, all Alisso needed was an Earth Mage- a creator of the stone structures. Thankfully, they were the ones who took always took lab rats to the scientists when requested. So, it did not take long for one to arrive as an escort. All Alisso’s efforts paid off as the man was alone. The last month, he had been very cooperative, so the mages were led to believe he would not cause any issues.

Right, let them think that. Alisso greeted the man and as he turned away, attacked. He wrenched the Mage’s arms behind his back and pressed the blood-filled syringe to his neck. “If you scream, I will kill you.”

“What… do you want?” the mage whispered, his voice trembling.

“To get out of here,” Alisso said, “and you’re going to help me, okay?”

“And if I don’t?”

“I will stab you with this syringe and let the contents kill you. If they don’t, I made sure to contaminate the needle.”

“I can’t just walk you out of here.”

“I don’t expect that,” Alisso told him. “But you’re an Earth Mage. I am sure you could easily repair a wall, yes?”

“Y-yes.” The mage agreed and with a gesture of his hands, the back of the cell disappeared to reveal the outside world. The blue sky was usually only visible though the small window, but Alisso paid no attention to it. He couldn’t afford to let his mind marvel at the world beyond his prison. Instead, he glanced at the ground a floor below him.

“Thank you.” Alisso told the Mage and drove the needle into his neck. Loose ends were unacceptable. He let the man fall to the floor and leapt into the forest outside his cell. As he ran, Alisso felt bad for killing the mage, but he knew better than to risk being captured.

Others had attempted to escape over the years, but those who were soft-hearted did not survive. So, Alisso vowed to never let his heart rule his actions; because more than anyone else, he wanted to live.
___
“Is Ravenna doing okay?” Nalki asked as Charin came into the main tavern room. While he was examining Ravenna, Nalki resumed his work on the tavern as he had nothing else to do. Besides, Dusca offered him double the money if he could repair it as soon as possible. So, it might be an all-night job. But that doesn’t really matter. Charin might need to stay here that long anyway.

“It’s complicated,” his husband said, taking a seat in one of the only unbroken chairs where Bossman had been sitting. The tavern owner had been breaking table and chair remnants for firewood. He only paused with Charin came into the room. “In short, Ravenna poisoned herself, but—"

“W-why would she do that?” Bossman sounded stunned and Nalki couldn’t blame him. He was as well. The Barmaid seemed pretty happy to be here, even said so once in a passing conversation. “And with what? I don’t keep much of anything aroun—"

“None of it’s your doing,” Charin glanced down as if thinking. It was a look Nalki knew well. One that said ‘I am unsure how to present this information’. Information such as visiting the in-laws, a need to be at work during a holiday or anniversary. But Nalki never held this against his husband. He was a kind man who sometimes let his good deeds carry him away to far off places to save others.

“Then, what happened?” Bossman demanded, coming over to stare down at Charin. “I feel I deserve more details.”

“I know,” Charin took a deep breath and ran his hands through his curly brown hair. “I… I have seen this before. But-“

“See what?”

Charin glanced at the broken windows of the tavern and stood. “Let’s not discuss it here.” He led Bossman and Nalki into the kitchen- then into the basement where the ale was stored. Once he closed the door to the steps, Charin explained what he knew. “Ravenna used blood magic and—“

“I’ve heard of that. Nasty business.” Bossman sounded no happier hearing what the man said. “Will she be all right?“

“It’s possible she will survive,” Charin continued. “Right now, I- I don’t know. But I administered a neutralizing antidote, so we can hope.”

“I need more than hope.”

“I am sorry, that’s all I can give you.”

“What even is blood magic?” Nalki felt he should have known, given he was a mage, but didn’t.

“It is a forbidden kind of technique I hesitate to even discuss.” Charin told him. “It is possible for those born without magic to inject themselves with the blood of a Mage to cast spells.”

“What?” Nalki gasped, before he could stop himself. “How would you even—"

“By killing a Mage,” Charin said, glancing up at the wooden floorboards over head nervously. “It doesn’t matter if they are alive or not for the effect to work. But following the use of magic, Blood Magic can kill the user. There is not enough research on the odds, but—"

“You said you gave her an neutralizing antidote!” Bossman cut in, his voice too loud for Nalki’s comfort. “Isn’t that supposed to work?“

“I will keep an eye on her tonight,” Charin promised, “I will do everything I can.”

“Thank you,” Bossman said, “she’s like a granddaughter to me and I’d hate to lose her.”

“Understood,” Charin nodded and after those present calmed down, he led them back upstairs.
___
Katara sneaked back into the tavern, unsure what to do. She felt she had seen too much, but also was thrilled to be in on a secret. One Olive had no idea she knew. Which was the best kind of secret, because she could use it to her advantage later.

When she stepped into the tavern, she saw her grandfather disappear into the kitchen. So, of course Katara followed. But she came to a halt when she heard the door to the cellar open.

What is he going down there for? The tavern isn’t even open.

But then, she heard other voices. One was Nalki and another was a man she hadn’t heard before. Once the cellar door was shut, Katara sneaked into the kitchen, careful to step delicately. After years of running around in the tavern, she knew which boards creaked and squeaked- for the most part. She carefully made her way over to the pantry which was over the cellar and moved to listen. Given the floor was old, there were several small holes in the floor where she could listen.

Katara hated to be a snoop, but she couldn’t help it. She loved knowing things she shouldn’t- because it usually was to her advantage to know. Even if knowing didn’t pay off for ages. But it didn’t take long for her actions to pay off this time. To think, she was telling herself not to give into temptation. But what she learned almost made her gasp aloud.

There’s forbidden magic? Now all of what happened made sense. Ravenna was a Poet- but a very, very naughty one. I will never do chores again.

This was all just too good.

Except for one thing. If Ravenna died, then, who would do her chores?

Katara didn’t have time to think about this as she heard the group moving toward the steps to the kitchen. She quickly rushed out of the pantry, careful to avoid the old floorboards and made her way to her bed. She paused to glance and Ravenna who was sleeping fitfully before making her way to the corner of the room. As Katara crawled in bed, she saw Olive sleeping some ways away and smiled.

She had dirt on both of them now she could use whenever the perfect opportunity arose. Olive was talking to a mysterious Mage in yellow robes and Ravenna- sweet Ravenna was doing blood magic. Katara was confident she could make them do whatever she wanted, whenever, for the rest of time.
___

The next few days were chaotic, but it pleased Dusca that Nalki was working so diligently on the repairs. She had always doubted his ability, but as the tavern re-opened three days later after she doubled his fee, she admitted she was wrong; or money talked more than she could yell at the man.

But in truth, it didn’t matter.

The Wooden Ladle was open once more.
 
Post #38 written by @ps102 ​

As usual, Delta was the last to arrive to the round table. She took a seat, set her arms on the table’s jet black finish, and began the conference with an announcement. “Queen Melina has captured the second fragment,” she said calmly. “That, I must admit, is not something I expected to happen this soon.”

Alpha was the first to comment. “She and her government are fast.”

“And we’ve yet to even get a clue on the location of a fragment,” said Beta. “How did she find two?”

Gamma made no comment. She only listened.

“Let us not panic,” Delta said. “She needs all six. And even if she finds all six, even she may not be able to drive the gear.”

“Irrelevant,” remarked Beta. “If it’s not Melina, it will be someone greater than her. Perhaps a future kin.”

“Can we really contend with Melina?" Alpha spoke up. "We don’t have any real plans for that. Only the ambition.”

In rare moment, Gamma was the only one in the room to make a bright, piercing smile. “We can.” She stood up. “We can because I’ve found one.”

Her fellow members stared in silence.

She went one. “I’ve found one—someone who can be the bearer of the Angel Mark.”

Beta thundered from his chair. “That’s impossible. We looked for years. Years. We turned the country upside down. And nobody could bear it. Maybe one of the royals but we certainly don’t want that!”

“That we did!” Gamma opened her arms wide. “But there is a bigger world out there. We never looked in other countries, did we?”

Delta gasped. “You— You ventured beyond the sea to find a vessel?”

“No. The vessel came here. It was by chance. Luck is in our side.”

Alpha, too, rose from his seat. “This is such nonsense. Not to mention of massive risk. Even if this vessel could bear the mark, the spirit would have to accept the vessel. And even then, they’d have to achieve perfect harmony to even contend with the queen. You’re dreaming, Gamma.”

“I’m in agreement!” Beta shouted. “To even try all of this, we’d have to free the spirit. We don’t want the spirit to roam free. The queen could find her.”

Delta turned on Gamma. Her azure-blue eyes became visible as she pierced Gamma with her gaze. “They are all correct. I will authorize no such thing until there is a proper plan. In the first place, we don’t even know the queen’s true power. None of us has went toe-to-toe with her.”

Gamma remained unwaved. She sat back down and set her arms on the table. “Do not worry. I would never act recklessly. Please”—she invitingly spread her arms on the table—“sit down to discuss in detail.”

Without further question, Delta sat back down, followed by Alpha and then Beta. “We’re all ears.”

“I’ll start by the vessel—Olive. That’s her name. Or at least, that’s her temporary name. Her actual name is…”

***

Mellow moonlight bathed Queen Melina, who with closed eyes, faced the sky milky with the night stars. A meadow—vast and dense in wild grass—surrounded her. A light breeze blew past her chestnut hair and the blades of grass, waving in sync. The breeze waved through the meadow and into the ocean a little farther away.

The crickets chirped almost in harmony with the twinkly stars. Then, Melina opened her eyes, and the chirps stopped. Birds sprung from the scattered trees as the earth began to quake.

Melina planted her left foot forward, followed by an extension of her right arm. She clenched it and the ground ten meters in front ruptured into a fissure, small and insignificant at first. Melina smiled and she squeezed her hand tighter. The two sides of the fissure rapidly grew apart. Stones, dirt and dust shot up in the air. She squeezed tighter and tighter until her seismic waves tore a wide, almost bottomless rift. This was how, in a matter of second, she sunk entire armies into one big grave. It was not enough. She needed more.

She struck her right foot and performed a pull-like motion with her clenched hand. A crunch echoed from the rift's bottom as an orange glow momentarily brightened the stone walls that made up the rift.

It was not good enough. She tried again—over and over—until hot lava bubbled its way up. Melina watched it spill over to the grass before it sunk back into the earth where it belonged. It was not good enough. It was not fast enough.

In a fit of rage, she jumped into the ground and punched the earth. Seismic waves traveled through the rift and caused its walls to crumble and collapse into a pile of rubble.

She was not satisfied. Melina jumped back to her feet and slowly swiped her open palm across the meadow. Moments after she closed it, a flash spread over the ruble, and a mountainous explosion, kilometers long, wiped everything clear.

A cloud of dust, ash, and intense heat followed. Melina’s hair floated upwards as she stared into her chaos. She laughed with her arms wide. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it, my dear guest?” She looked over her shoulder. Gamma’s yellow robes aggressively waved in the heat.

It was the first time she witnessed Melina’s power in person.

“How long have you been aware of my presence?” she could only ask.

Melina turned around. “For as long as you have been here. Let’s just say that this whole thing was a demonstration.”

“You’re ill!”

Melina tilted her head. “Ill are the ones who don’t secure power for themselves, my little foolish adversary. Power is everything. Without power, you’re nothing. You become consumed by those stronger than you. I do not want to be consumed. I will be the greatest. I will be a Goddess. I will govern the whole world.”

Gamma remained firm in her ground. “I am aware of your plans.”

“Then don’t get in my way!” Melina swayed her arm. A rift instantly opened beneath Gamma's feet. Gamma created an air wave and propelled herself away—up into the top of a boulder left by the earlier chaos.

“I’ve heard all about your fighting style!” Gamma shouted. “You sink people into rifts. Then, you close the rift and crush them. It’s instant death.”

“Precisely. You should be glad I am that merciful. I can inflict much slower, and much more painful, deaths.”

To that, Gamma could only repeat herself. “You’re ill.”

Melina’s eye twitched. “I’ll crush you.”

“Try it then.”

“Gladly!”

Melina joined her arms together and slowly pulled them apart. A rock-like bubble formed bigger the further apart her arms grew. Gamma kept a close eye. Melina smiled. Then, she took aim, and the rocky bubble thundered forward.

Gamma was not quick enough to dodge. She stayed still, and her air barrier stopped the rock from piercing her heart. It fell to the ground like it was nothing. “Is that all you got?”

Melina did nothing. She only smiled.

Something happened then—something glowed brightly beneath Gamma’s feet. It went brighter and brighter. Her eyes widened, and she immediately produced air to propel herself as far away as possible.

“Too late. Have a safe trip to hell.”

The rock, filled with highly compressed gas, exploded and enveloped Gamma in a far-reaching explosion. Melina covered her eyes as splinters flew past her. When she opened them again, Gamma didn’t seem to be anywhere near in sight. The ground only continued to burn with a high flame.

Melina laughed—and Gamma emerged from the fire a second after. Half her robe was burned away, her hood was gone, and her face was exposed, painted with pain and burn marks. The first thing Melina noted was the symbol of a falling leaf etched in her forehead. It went well with her auburn hair.

Gamma spit black ash. “You got me. But you did not kill me.”

“That I am glad about. I can see that leaf mark. You’re in perfect harmony with the autumn spirit, named Koyo.”

To that, she did not reply. She only grimaced. Her greatest secret became exposed. And as she expected, Melina was well educated on ancient scriptures.

“If you’re fused with Koyo, why not stop playing around with conventional magic? Show me your true power!” she demanded, but Gamma refused to even move. “You can’t, can you? What a waste this spirit is in you. You’re powerful, but not anywhere near powerful enough to do anything to me. It’s a joke really! My conventional magic can stop your advanced magic.”

Then, Gamma bit the bullet and did exactly as she was asked. She swayed her arm and vanished into thin air. Conventional magic could never do that. Melina sat down, satisfied. She had all kinds of clues about those mysterious adversaries of hers now.
 
Post #39 written by @Louanne Learning ​

Araspeth’s mind turned, beginning with the question: Into whom had her mother, Gamma, decided to put her hope? Humph, she thought, like her own daughter wasn’t worthy.

There had not been many reported instances of unusual magic lately … but, wait! That tavern! Where they had arrested Roman Demid. That girl! That struggling water mage! Oh, she was just the type her mother would attach herself to. More potential than finesse. It was just a hunch, but a good one.

Araspeth strode to the queen’s chambers. Melina lay sprawled on a finely embroidered couch. “Hand me those grapes,” she said.

Araspeth obeyed. “My queen,” she said, “I fear a new threat may have surfaced.”

“Oh?”

“A mage has appeared who needs to be stopped before they can cause us harm. I have it on authority that the girl who intervened in our arrest of Roman Demid may be plotting against us.” It was a lie, but Araspeth had to make things happen.

Melina languidly plopped a grape in her mouth. She savoured it, then said, “I always say better safe than sorry.”

“My instincts are right on this. A lost soul, but we need to stop her before she becomes dangerous.”

“Have her eliminated,” the queen commanded, with a shrug.

Araspeth bowed. “Your wish is my command,” she said. “I will return with her head.”

She may not have had her mother’s approval, but she would earn her mother’s awe.

***

Katara and Olive walked to the patch of raspberry bushes in a sunshiny hollow within the woods. They skittered down the incline and plucked the berries, filling their baskets. “I will make a raspberry pie,” Olive announced.

“And I will eat it,” Katara replied. She looked sideways at Olive. “What is it like to be a mage?”

“I’m only finding out for myself.”

Katara sat down in the grass and leaned back on her arms, leaving Olive to complete the work. “Shall I write you a poem?” Katara asked.

“Please do.”

She threw back her head, and recited, “In the sunshine, the red berries grow—with secrets only the fairies know—What magic do they heed the call of?—I will have to ask my friend Olive!”

Olive smiled. “I like it.” She glanced at Katara. “We’re friends?”

“Of course.”

“What is it like to be a poet?”

“It makes me feel strong. Strong people express themselves.”

Olive’s eyes widened. “There is strength in magic,” she said, as if in warning to herself.

“Well then … you must express yourself, with magic.”

***

In the stable, Bossman mucked the stalls of their two bay mares, Nova and Pippin. Large horses, each about fourteen hands high, both with reddish-brown coats as sleek as an otter’s, they nickered thanks. Bossman brushed them down, and whispered endearments to them. “Fine fillies,” he said.

He bridled them up, and equipped them with buckskin saddles. Saddle bags were filled with morsels of food, oats for the horses, and money.

Wiping a tear from his eye, he sat down on a bale of hay. Gamma appeared. “It has to happen this way,” she said.

“I know,” he replied. “I thought we would have more time.”

Gamma cocked an ear. “She has arrived.”

***

Araspeth, surrounded by guards, imperious with assumed importance, burst into the tavern. “I have a warrant for the arrest of the impudent brat who interfered in the official act of detaining Roman Demid!” she shouted.

At the wooden counter, Dusca, with a puzzled look, peered up from her tally sheet. “You mean—you mean Olive?”

Araspeth raised her chin. “The very one. Bring her to me.”

Ravenna, peeking in from the kitchen, turned on a heel and ran all the way to the stable. There, she found Bossman alone, sitting on a bale of hay. “They’ve come for Olive!” Ravenna cried.

Without a word, Bossman collected the horses. “Go to them,” he said, “—at the raspberry patch. They must leave this place. They must go to Cliffcross.”

“Cliffcross?”

“Yes. Cliffcross. Will you remember?”

“Yes, I—”

“It is a matter of life and death, and the destiny of all of us.”

Ravenna blinked. “But why—but how—?”

“Assure them all will be revealed in time.”

“I can’t—I’m afraid—”

“You can,” Bossman said, with a stern look. “Now, go. There is no time to waste.”

Ravenna swayed, as if in a stupefying haze, then mounted Nova and broke away. Bossman patted Pippin’s hindquarters. “Go,” he said. “Bring our girls to safety.”

Pippin followed in Nova’s wake, and they arrived to the raspberry patch in the hollow. Olive and Katara looked up as Ravenna jumped off of the horse’s back. They climbed the hill. In a tizzy, Ravenna repeated, word for word, Bossman’s instructions.

Olive and Katara exchanged dumbfounded glances. Katara furrowed her brow. “Why do I have to go?” she asked.

“Because you are my friend?” Olive wondered.

Katara rolled her eyes. Just then, a willowy figure in yellow robes appeared from the woods. Katara and Ravenna were awestruck, but Olive smiled. “Gamma,” she whispered.

“To fulfill the scriptures,” Gamma said, “the three of you must travel this trail together.”

Ravenna’s eyes rounded with shock. “Me?” she asked.

“But we only have two horses,” Katara complained.

Olive did not wait for further deliberation. She mounted Nova, and said, “Let’s go.”

With pursed lips, Katara mounted Pippin. “Come on,” she beckoned Ravenna, who got up on the saddle behind her.

“Trust, girls,” Gamma said. “Trust in your destiny, and each other.”

The three young women—the mage, the poet-scientist, and the lab rat—set off on their journey of discovery.

***

Sitting by the fire in their cave near Cliffcross, Pria peered up. “The violin music approaches,” she said. ‘They’re coming.”

“I hope they bring ale,” Olten quipped.

Wren blew out his breath. “This changes everything.”
 
Post #40 written by Gravy/Luxuria
​
Getting out of the city was no easy task. The three had to take the backroads, hence Ravenna was in-charge of giving orders, which displeased Katara greatly. She tried to speak up a few times, but Ravenna insisted on everyone being as quiet as possible.

This is when Katara wanted pointed out the horses were anything but quiet. But Olive gestured for her to remain silent. The three wove through the alleyways and the outskirts of town, where people languished on the street, in rubbles of stones which may have once been a building.

Katara hated going through this rundown area of town, but noticed the lack of municipal mages, which was a good thing. Apparently, several had come to take Olive into custody, according to Ravenna.

The lab rat hadn’t said much more than that as they rode away from the tavern toward the city gate. As they approached, Ravenna told Katara to pick up the pace.

“We need to rush past them,” she told her, glancing behind at Olive. The young woman seemed strangely adept to riding a horse. Katara would have liked to say the same, but she spent more of her time writing poetry than riding. But now, she had no choice but to become skilled in the equestrian art.

“Ready?” Katara asked Ravenna who tightened her grip around her waist. She didn’t want the lab rat to fall off when she urged the horse into a gallop. Not because Katara cared, but because she didn’t want to be at fault for any possible injuries.

Katara snapped the reins and the horse took off at such a speed, she could barely steer the horse through the open gate. Past the four guards, two on each side who scattered as she approached. “Cowards!”

For being knights, they were not very brave if a charging horse made them run away- but at least that was to her advantage.

It wasn’t until Ravenna yelled at her moments later, Katara realized she was headed for wall of trees that cradled the road leading out of the city. She had been so engrossed in the wind rushing past, the warmth of the sun, she didn’t notice her surroundings.

Thankfully, Katara managed to steer the horse away from trees in time and continued down the road; hopefully Olive was behind them.

~.~.~

Olive hadn’t expected Katara to take off like that, but she also had no idea how they were going to get out of the city. When she first arrived, the streets seemed to be regularly patrolled by Municipal Mages and the like. Now, they were after her and no street was safe.

She wanted to know why, but Olive had a feeling she already knew. It seemed selfish to believe she was the target of their enemies. But Gamma seemed to insinuate there was more to herself than she could recall and Olive would have wagered what she did not know was the cause of her current situation.

When she rushed through the gate after Katara and Ravenna, a heavy weight lifted from her shoulders. Yet, another thought loomed over her as they traveled down the road. If she hadn’t met Ravenna and Katara, what would have happened to her? Was she ever meant to leave this city? Was she placed here by people who were now pursuing her?

Most importantly, what was special about herself she had forgotten?

~.~.~

About two hours later, Ravenna suggested Katara rest the horses. Ravenna hadn’t anticipated the events of the day, but she was not shocked by the sudden change. Her whole life had been a series of drastic and frightening changes. So now, most events which might have off-set anyone else, did not sway Ravenna. She had become too good at adjusting to sudden changes.

She hoped Katara and Olive would adjust, too.

Ravenna knew it wouldn’t be easy for them as the excitement of the journey wore off. But she knew better than to underestimate the resilience of people. In the labs, Ravenna was always shocked who continued to survive, even smile. She wished she could be one of those people- but she knew that was not the case.

Because she felt the weight of every situation and always prepared for the worst.

Maybe that’s why then, she suggested they sleep outdoors that night. Because it was better to be prepared to leave, than be captured by the state. Katara complained about this idea until Ravenna suggested she be in charge of finding a suitable camping ground. The young woman immediately became cheery-but still bossy- and found them a decent clearing for the night.
 
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