[written down by Johana Passerin]
They entered through the gate in the wall. The air was cooler, but not explicitly wintry. The ground-floor or single-story houses had flat roofs, were built of light-colored brick, and were covered in vines or ivy. In places where the vines did not cover them, there were white spirals, as if sketching out where the green stems and tendrils might venture in the future. The houses had slanting exterior walls and felt like cozy dens.
Playing children scattered before the pilgrims. After fleeing for a short distance, they turned around and stared at the newcomers from a safe distance. Their alarmed cries summoned the adults, who peeked from their doorways and watched the travelers suspiciously. The people had pale skin, long brown hair, and white spirals painted on their faces in various patterns, which for the time being seemed random to the travelers. Klaes, who was always more interested in things than in people, gloomily put on his spectacles, turned his back to the inhabitants, and inquisitively examined the gate and the wall from the inside.
“Indeed, yes. The entire town is encircled by a rampart. A great force encompasses the town. The wall reaches high into the sky. The lines of force lead from the center of the town,” Klaes muttered between his teeth, while several people approached them. One of them, likely a potter judging by his clay-smudged apron, stepped closer and spoke to them in Garionite: “Welcome, travelers! Where do you hail from?” His face bore an expression of friendly alertness mixed with a certain amusement at Klaes’s distracted behavior.
“From that gate over there,” Vedrax muttered.
“We come from Xalgon,” Loverd added, providing useful information.
“And we were heading for Svittynis. We are looking for an acquaintance of ours; he should be somewhere around here,” Klaes chimed in. He paid little attention to the man and continued analyzing the surroundings through his spectacles. “But it seems your town has fortified itself and is surrounded by protective spells. Hmm, hmm, an interesting solution!”
“Hmm, that is true. And you are indeed in Svittynis. What are your esteemed names?”
“Klaes,” the scholar bowed.
“Klaes of?” asked the potter.
“Just Klaes. Of Yller.”
The others introduced themselves as well, and this time it went without any misunderstandings. Finally, the potter and the other people from the cluster cast inquiring glances at Fox. But she remained stubbornly silent. More and more people were arriving and staring at them. The potter sent a youth with a message somewhere into the heart of the town.
“Perhaps we should charge admission; I feel like I’m at a fair,” Klaes muttered in a whisper.
“Wait just a moment,” the potter reassured them.
Before long, they witnessed the arrival of a man and a woman. Both were clad in green.
“If it is not against your customs, please follow us,” the woman said and bowed. They set out through the white-paved streets behind the two people, inspecting the houses adorned with spirals and symbols of craft guilds. They stopped at a square in front of a house that bore the sign of a grape cluster. Their guides gestured for them to step inside. The houses here had leather curtains instead of doors. Parting them, they entered a room where cups and jugs, apparently filled with wine, sat upon the tables. They sat down. Their guides poured into the cups and raised them with the words: “To you and your health, Tazriel, Klaes, and Loverd.”
“And to whom should we drink?” Klaes asked.
“I am Colwis,” the woman said.
“And I am Handir,” said the man. They drank.
“We are here to await our lady,” the woman said. And so they waited, sipping the wine. Neither Handir nor Colwis asked any questions; they looked curious but at the same time calm and content. After a while, the silence ceased to be oppressive.
Finally, the door curtain parted and a young woman entered, wearing a white tunic embroidered with grapevines. Her face was weathered by the wind. Her hair was honey-brown and her eyes were light gray. She wore high leather boots. Klaes noticed she had a tattoo on her neck. A pink-and-green pendant swung from a chain around her neck. At her waist she carried a sling and a pouch. The fabric of her clothing, the cut, and the hairstyle were very similar to how the people in this town dressed. However, they were mostly of smaller, stockier build and paler skin color. To Klaes, the townspeople somewhat resembled Daran. The newly arrived woman, on the other hand, looked a bit elven.
Fox also watched her out of the corner of her eye, sniffing her scent. She smelled of wind, herbs, lemon balm, thyme, oil, and wine.
“Do you like the local wine?” she spoke casually. Everyone stood up and bowed.
“Yes, the wine is very good,” Klaes replied promptly.
“But blood it is not,” Vedrax muttered to himself. Klaes nudged him with his elbow when he overheard it. Then he turned to the woman.
“Are you the mayor here?” he spoke respectfully.
“It is more complicated than that,” the woman answered and gestured to Colwis and Handir to move outside the house, yet remain within earshot.
“Tell me, how did you actually get here? No one has visited for some time.”
“Through the gate. We were heading here from a branch of the Three Foxes Inn located in another city,” Klaes answered and briefly described their journey from gate to gate. When he mentioned the questions the Head had asked them, the woman smiled bitterly.
“Strange times require strange measures. Therefore, I want to know your names first,” she prompted them.
“My name is Klaes Ravit, and I am from Yller University.”
“A scholar, excellent,” the woman exclaimed.
“Yes, it is necessary to spread education to remote regions,” Klaes nodded.
The woman pointed at Vedrax. “And you?”
“I am Tazriel Itraniel Vedrax, initiate of the waning moon, he whose shadow bleeds,” Vedrax uttered pathetically, placing a hand on his chest.
The lady looked at Loverd.
“Loverd Oidar Vinori, of the lineage of builders, of the bird clan. I hail from Arkagant. As you can see, we are a very unusual company. Various dangers have brought us together,” Loverd said.
“Yes, an unusual alliance indeed. A builder, a knight, and a scholar. And this creature? Who is this?” the woman said.
“This is our Fox,” Klaes said.
“I am the Master’s Fox from the Three Foxes Inn, and therefore I am omnipresent, as the saying goes,” Fox said with a cheeky smile. “And will the gracious lady introduce herself to us as well?” she added. The woman took her time. First, she returned Fox’s smile, then she poured herself some wine, raised her goblet, and said: “Let us drink to your safe arrival. I am Taro, and I welcome you to Svittynis.”
Everyone except Fox drank with the woman. When they emptied their cups, Taro asked casually: “What are you fleeing from?”
“Right now, we are looking for someone. But it is true that it is connected to a certain event that drove many people from their homes and forced them to flee. Approximately two months ago in the Free Land, the walls of the place where the hosts of the eternal battle were locked away breached, and they broke free. They appear as armies against which it is pointless to fight, but we know their true nature and that they can be fought. We know this because a mage, Talantius, created a cure that allows one to see the true nature of things. He tasked us with delivering this elixir to one of the powerful cities. We set out for Xalgon and simultaneously sent a sample to Sairis. Whether it arrived there, we do not know. Recently, however, it came to light that the Elixir has significant side effects. The creator of that Elixir, the alchemist Talantius, is presumably somewhere here in the north; perhaps he crashed here with his tower. We are trying to find him.”
Taro did not look—despite the briefness of the narration and the amount of information—even a bit surprised.
“Perhaps the blight we saw on the way has something to do with it. The Elixir disrupts space.”
Taro again merely nodded.
“Have you noticed anything strange in the northern sky here? A glow, perhaps? Flashes, explosions?”
Taro nodded: “Yes, about three weeks ago, flames and smoke covered the sky. My mother protected the town against that phenomenon, but she herself… is no longer with us,” Taro blinked to brush away her tears. After a moment, she continued: “My sister was with our mother at the time. She was learning from her how to protect the town against the mists. For our mother was a sorceress. But what was hurtling from the sky was far more powerful than the mists from the west. Something happened…” her voice broke, “When I ran to the garden house, I found only my wailing sister there. I have no idea what happened. My sister said that mother was scattered by the forces she had to unleash. But I do not know. And what was it that was falling on us? Until now, I thought it must have been some giant stone, a piece of the firmament. You say it was that alchemist’s tower? Mother deflected it, so it crashed somewhere north of the town. Shortly after that, our troubles began here. Perhaps you could help us.”
“We would like to help you, but our task brooks no delay,” Vedrax said.
“I am holding no one here,” Taro spread her arms.
“No, no, we will gladly help you. We too will likely need your help,” Loverd said. “What is this problem of yours?”
“Svittynis is gripped by the protective power of my poor sister. She is trying to protect the town against something… I don’t know how to describe it myself, but it is certainly dangerous and it comes from the north. We don’t know how to protect only the north, so my sister locked down the entire town, including the special access points, like the door to the Three Foxes Inn,” Taro said.
“And what kind of danger is it? Do the forces of light have a hand in it?” Vedrax asked.
“Since time immemorial, mists have appeared here, but always only briefly. About two weeks ago, a strange jelly began rolling in from the north… actually, I cannot describe it. You will have to see it for yourselves. It can be entered, but one cannot stay in it for long. Two of our people, whom I sent inside for longer than a brief moment, have not returned,” Taro explained, “I still hope a little that we will manage to get them out of there, but I do not want to risk more lives.”
“How long has this been going on?” Loverd asked.
“Two weeks,” she replied.
“Hm. It seems your matter and our matter are connected. It is obvious that we will have to go look for our mage where that jelly is coming from,” Klaes uttered.
Just then, excited voices were heard behind the curtain.
“Taro?” someone called, and they recognized Colwis’s voice. “Taro? Radwis is here and wants to speak with you!”
Taro rose from the table and said: “That sounds urgent. I must excuse myself.” While she was away, they exchanged their impressions in whispers. In a moment, she came back.
“The townspeople are curious about what you are. You will have to talk with them too. I must also introduce you to my sister. Besides, I remembered some phenomena that could be related to that mage of yours. And then we have one surviving scout who returned alive, but went mad.”
“Interesting. And where is he?” Klaes inquired.
“We locked him in a barn,” Taro answered.
“I would like to see him. I already have certain experience with these things. What do you say, Master Klaes?” Vedrax suggested.
“Yes, that would be good. We need to compare notes from the experiments. Will you permit us?” Klaes turned to Taro.
“Very well, if you wish. But you must come with me to the Council assembly and to see my sister. Then we can go look at that madman.”
They left the hall of wine and followed Taro. She led them across the square, through a street with many craft workshops and small shops, and down an avenue of trees whose branches were shedding their last leaves. Along the way, they passed a white ram, who was trotting along as if he were a rightful citizen of the town. And as such, he even greeted them: “Good daaay.”
Taro returned his greeting.
Fox was not slow to greet him either. The ram lowered his head, so that his curled horns were clearly visible, and said: “It pleases me to meet a talking carnivore. I hope you don’t eat little lambs.”
“At home I eat what I have, and when visiting, what they give me,” Fox countered.
The ram bleated and went on his way.
Eventually, they came to a low wall overgrown with ivy. The gate was ornately forged. Standing by it were two men clad in green with staffs in their hands. The air was warm and blew slowly from the west. The light had a golden hue. When they raised their heads, they saw a mountain ridge covered with trees to the north. There was no snow on it. To the south, snowless mountains also towered.
At Taro’s signal, the men opened the gate. They entered a beautiful garden. It was tended yet wild, a perfect place of peace and contemplation. They passed stones and a small temple of the goddess Kovalin with a statue of a girl carrying a jug from which water gushed. They stopped at a garden pavilion. Here, another pair of guards stood watch. Taro greeted them, and they let her and her entourage inside.
Here, lying on cushions, was a girl with somewhat reddish hair, but otherwise very similar to Taro. Her aristocratic appearance was emphasized by narrow lips and prominent cheekbones. She wore a long robe. Sitting beside her was an older lady with graying hair gathered into a bun. Unlike the recumbent girl, she wore a richly decorated corset that accentuated her ample bosom.
“At last! Taro. We are waiting here for you!”
“This is Radwis,” Taro introduced the woman to the others with an expression of slight frustration.
“Thank you for your kind welcome,” Klaes said, but Radwis seemed not to notice him at all. She turned to Taro and asked in a low voice: “And do you know why they are here?”
“They are looking for a mage,” Taro replied.
“Haven’t there been enough mages already?!” Radwis bristled.
“How can you even let that cross your lips!” Taro protested, “it is only thanks to my mother that we are still alive, and my sister is sacrificing her life force to keep us safe!”
Just then, the girl on the bed shifted. “Tari! Taro, give me a drink!” Her eyes darted back and forth. “Who are these people?”
“These are people who might help us,” Taro said and handed her a vessel. The girl drank greedily.
“Ah, those are the ones who passed through my wall. That is what mother wanted. To save Svittynis.”
“You have my admiration,” Klaes said. He noticed the deep circles under her eyes, her chapped lips, and her trembling hands.
“I appreciate that,” the girl smiled sadly. “But my strength will soon fail me.”
“Those trials at the gate—are they meant to detect those who have been infected by the blight?” Klaes asked.
“Against everything! Against that thing from the north. It is alien. It is full of some madness. I couldn’t think of anything better to verify that someone is sane. I must stop it. I must not relent for even a moment…” the girl whispered as if in a fever.
Loverd pondered and then said: “When we entered the town through the northeastern gate, we were somewhere other than where we should have been. Is that your doing?”
“I do not know. That is all I learned from my mother, who protected our town against the misty times from the west. Her name was Hianwis, and before that, Hathar. Remember her names. She was so strong. Only now do I realize how immensely strong she must have been,” the girl said languidly.
“Do not exhaust yourself, sister. Here, take this, eat!” Taro said and handed her food. The girl took a bite, but then turned her small face back toward Klaes, muttering: “I was with her when it was falling from the sky directly upon us. So much pain. Her sacrifice. … We thought we were saved, but then something began to spread from the north that changed… destroyed… disfigured people and animals. I am trying to stop it…”
Then the girl fell silent and ate.
“Go now,” Radwis said after she helped the girl lie back down on the cushions. “She must attend to her magic again.” The gray-haired woman then turned to the recumbent girl, her face a mix of disapproval and compassion.
They stepped toward the door, but Loverd stopped and turned to Radwis: “Perhaps I might have something that could help her.”
“What is it?”
“A candle with the sacred fire of the Ark, which burns in the heart of every Arkin. It comes from her mother’s homeland,” Loverd said with great respect in his voice. Radwis shrugged her shoulders and cast a glance at Taro.
“We could kindle your candle in the temple of the fire god. And then we must go to the temple of the wind god, where the assembly will take place,” Taro countered.
“Yes! Let us go to the temple of fire. If I hear a sacred song in your fire, then we have hope that my candle could help your sister regain her lost strength.”
In the temple precinct, there were four shrines. The temple to the west was the largest and had a perforated, pointed spire. The temple to the south was round, and through the pointed arch of the entrance, the flame of the sacred fire could be seen inside. The temple to the north was apparently dedicated to water—girls from there carried drinking water in tall jugs on yokes. And to the east stood the stocky temple of earth, the back of which touched the garden wall. In the center between the temples was an empty space with geometric signs marked with black stones in the white pavement. In front of each of the temples stood an archaic-looking statue of a deity—before the air temple stood a man with a sword, before the fire temple a man with a staff, before the water temple stood a woman with a drinking horn, and before the earth temple stood a woman with an amulet.
Fox whispered to the others: “I know those ones; they occasionally gather at our inn. Andals, they are called!”
“I don’t know who gathers at your inn,” Klaes snorted, “but the cult of the elements is simply the worship of different states of matter.”
They went into the temple of fire. Four priests within were chanting their songs.
“Yes—this is a descendant of Auran!” Loverd rejoiced quietly and tried to join the priests. The melody was a bit different, but the meaning was the same. The eternal truth of the sacred flame.
Loverd turned to Taro: “Your fire is indeed a descendant of Auran. I feel it in my bones. It could certainly help your sister connect to the power that is behind that fire. Could you move her here? If she were surrounded by the sacred fire, it would be better.”
Taro kept nodding.
“Will you propose it to the priests? Or should I explain it to them?” Loverd asked.
“I will announce it to them at the assembly. The less a person knows, the less they doubt. I will not give them cause for doubt. Now let us go look at that man who went mad, whom you wanted to examine.”
In front of the barn stood a miserable-looking guard. He had a chair there, a barrel of water, and a crate, presumably containing food rations.
“So, how is it going?” Taro asked him.
“It’s really hard. He talks to me through the door. It makes me feel like I have ants in my head. I’d like someone to relieve me, please,” the guard said in a whiny voice. “You want to go inside? To see him? I don’t recommend it, really no, lady.”
“We will send someone to relieve you,” Taro promised and inspected the door. It looked truly sturdy. Someone was behind it; they could tell by the loud wheezing and muttered groans.
“Vedrax, does this remind you of anything?” Klaes asked.
“I don’t know. In the fortress where we had our man and that woman in quarantine, we were under the strong protective influence of amulets and curses,” Vedrax shrugged.
“Taro,” Klaes said in a whisper, “that guard, once he is relieved, it would be good to keep him under supervision too. I don’t like the way he talks. Maybe he’s just terrified, but—ants in his head?”
Taro nodded. Then they turned back to the guard.
“Can we peek in somehow?” Klaes said and pointed at the barn.
The guard nodded and opened a small hatch in the door, which apparently served for passing food.
Right behind it stood a figure. In a chalk-white face, a mouth grinned, overflowing with frothy saliva. In one eye socket, the eye was missing, and instead, some kind of centipede or larva was swarming there. The guard screamed, slammed the hatch shut again, and secured it with the latch. Wailing, he turned away and, holding his face, staggered a few paces aside. There he stood, rocking from side to side and weeping. From inside the barn, unarticulated shouting and pounding on the door could be heard.
“I don’t understand how he got into the town past the defensive barrier,” remarked Vedrax, who had experienced a thorough check and cleansing with auran before the gate.
Taro tossed her head. “It didn’t look that bad. He was just unhinged, but…”
“So he passed the same screening as we did? He put together a sensible sentence?” Vedrax raised his voice.
“Apparently so. He spoke of long, dim paths inside the jelly,” Taro muttered and turned away from the door, behind which pounding, stomping, wheezing, and shrieks erupted again.
“I think there could easily be others similarly afflicted here. You are not equipped for such severe cases. You should prepare for the worst. You might have to burn this barn down,” Loverd remarked.
Taro cast a miserable look at him.
“His methods are unusual, but they bring results,” Klaes said.
“For once, I would side with him,” Vedrax said. “Even in the chapter house, with all those incantations, we couldn’t handle it. Vengeful fire would turn him to ash. But if we had the Elixir…”
“Forget about it,” Fox growled. “I’d rather you truly burn the barn down.”
Taro watched the exchange of opinions, which she did not understand. Finally, she shrugged her shoulders and commanded, “It is time to head to the assembly. There will surely be space to discuss what we will do with that unfortunate soul as well.”
The assembly was held in the temple of the wind god. On three sides of the space were benches, on the fourth were the giant pipes of an organ, upon which the west wind—the deity itself—played tones. Eighteen festively dressed people were present—guild masters, representatives of prominent families. Taro introduced the pilgrims and their proposal to transfer her sister to the temple of fire.
The priest listened to it but objected: “Into which temple space? After all, your mother settled precisely in the Garden as the center of the town’s power. What would that help? Who proposed this?”
“I did,” Loverd spoke up, “But hearing this, I have another proposal—what if we bring the sacred fire to her in the garden? I am convinced that your fire is a descendant of Auran and that it will strengthen her.”
“Indeed, our ancient legends speak of our fire coming from elsewhere. But we honor one rule—fire is forbidden in the garden. The vines fear it. Not a single vine or ivy grows within a hundred paces of the fire temple. So say the sacred books,” the priest replied.
“Lords and ladies! Stop! We must talk about something more important! The granaries are running out of food. We cannot go to our pastures. What are we to do? We know how to do nothing else but graze and give wool. It’s not about how long your protector lasts. We’ll end up starving to death anyway, because we’ll run out of food.” Klaes and his friends looked around to see whom the voice belonged to, and they beheld the white ram.
“If that is true, then there is nothing left but to head north and find out what is causing all the troubles,” Klaes said.
“The trouble is,” Taro said, “that behind the walls to the north, you are immediately in that jelly. One can endure in it for about an hour. Tonvir—the miller’s youngest—lasted quite a bit longer there when he headed out there drunk and had wine with him.”
A fellow with a coat of arms depicting some kind of nut and a leaf stepped out from the group of leaders and said: “The Lord of the Vine cannot be here with us, but it is indeed as Taro says. Wine allows one to survive longer. One madness drives out another.”
“Well, that looks interesting. Alcohol ensures immunity against going mad?” Klaes smiled to himself.
“And what if this town is somehow connected to that element Talantius was looking for,” Loverd said, as if awakening from some dream.
“Talantius? He has already caused us so much suffering that I don’t even want to see him!” Klaes cried out emotionally.
“I, on the contrary, do! I want to go with you to look into the eyes of the man who killed my mother!” Taro exclaimed.
“That is a noble goal,” Vedrax nodded approvingly, “he defiled the town and your family; perhaps it is time to let yourself be guided by your pain and sweeten it with revenge. Blood for blood.”
“Those two have quite a bit in common,” Fox remarked.
