Chapter 33
"I don't like it Zech." Gerb grumbled as he tied down some packages, packing up the morning breakfast. Despite his crutch, he hopped around and made himself busy in the camp, carrying at least his own weight if not that of two men. It wasn't in his nature to be out done by anyone.
"If it helps us get there faster, why complain about it." Zechariah asked.
"I just don't see as why we need it. Who knows what it does to us? Look at what it's doing to her." Gerb said sourly nodding his head over at Lelia. She was held up in the air by two of her manservants, and with the end of a staff was drawing in the dirt below her, being held so as not to disturb her drawing.
"What do you mean? She looks... um... fine." Zechariah said blushing as he turned away and resumed packing. They talked in hushed tones. Though Zechariah doubted Lelia would mind them questioning her magic, he got the feeling that those who served her didn't appreciate it. Nor did they appreciate seeing their mistress crippled by the man they were now escorting to Uthar.
"I'm sure she looks fine to you." Gerb said scowling. "Look at her. Crystals growing on her skin! It isn't natural." He said hissing.
"Listen Gerb, I know you don't very much like them, but she saved your life. I owe her double now, as I kind of also ruined her life."
"Yeah yeah. I get it. But I don't get why we can't say shit about her casting magic every morning." Gerb said tucking the crutch under the crook of his arm and taking a step closer to him. "If I start growing crystals on my skin..."
"You'll what? You're going to be dead within the cycle. What does it matter if crystals start growing on your skin?" Zechariah said, speaking low as well. A passing guard gave them both a scowl as he passed.
"I'll give her a second smile in her sleep." Gerb hissed, eyes cold. "I'm dying to be sure, but I'm going to die human damnit. Not some half human have fossil."
Zechariah rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Then you won't get to see your family, now will you?" Zechariah said securing down his pack. "Look, I'll ask her about it. Would that make you feel better? To know whether or not it could spread to us? I highly doubt that it's possible. I mean, look around Gerb! No one else has the crystals. Why would we get them."
Gerb frowned at him. "Do what you want. I'm just letting you know what I'm gonna do if anything fishy happens. I don't like all this magic bullshit.
"And what of me? Hmm?" Zechariah asked pulling up his sleeve and exposing his still glowing veins. "You going to give me a second smile to?"
"Yeah, just about. If I see any of that shit in me? You're gone." Gerb said flatly.
Zechariah rolled his eyes and dropped his sleeve. "You're being superstitious."
"I'm being a peasant. We're meant to be superstitious. Or hasn't your new concubine informed you of our place yet?" Gerb snapped.
"Gerb!" Zechariah hissed. "I know you don't like them but Lelia has done nothing but help us from the beginning. Treat her by her merits." He chastised, "Not her birth."
"I'll treat her with the same familiarity she treats me. If she can get off her own pedestal and walk in the shit with us, then sure, I'll treat her right. Till then, I'll treat her exactly how I treat anyone who sits on a pedestal."
"She's helping us get to Uthar. To help you see your family."
"I'm seeing my family whether she helps or not." Gerb countered. "As for her 'helping' she ain't doing this for shit. She may not have admitted as much, but she's doing this for herself, just as much as you are, and just as much as I am. It just so happens, we're all going the same direction. But I am not indebted to her." He said pointing angrily at Lelia. Immediately, several disapproving looks were cast upon Gerb who gave them all a rude gesture in return. They shook their heads, and tried to ignore the barbaric bandit their mistress had adopted out of the goodness of her heart.
"Okay, fine. We don't need her. But I want her aid none the less. So please Gerb, just...bite your tongue would you? And before you go giving any smiles, talk to me first would you?" Zechariah pleaded.
"Why? So your damnable pleading will sway me from my due course?" Gerb asked sourly.
"So you can get your head out of your ass and smell the fresh air every now and then." Zechariah countered rolling his eyes. "Alright?"
Grumbling discontentedly, Gerb nodded. "Fine, unless my arms go blue. Then I ain't talking to you about shit. Got it?"
"Yes yes. If your arm goes blue I'll even sharpen your blade for you. Okay?"
"Dunno how much I trust you to properly sharpen a blade, but I suppose that's okay." Gerb conceded before hopping off.
"Where are you going?" Zechariah called after him. "Get in the wagon, you're going to be left behind."
"I'm walking this morn. Gotta stretch my leg." Gerb said sullenly, and hopped off in a fuss. Zechariah rolled his eyes, and checked the horses before climbing up into the seat. He waited for the signal to start moving. He watched Lelia go about her spell. It was a long one, full of artistic drawings of runes in the dirt, the sprinkling of magical paraphernalia and muttering of ominous sounding words. Basic magic stuff. All at once she raised her wand, spoke clearly a word he didn't understand, and there was a flash of that blueish-purple energy he was growing accustomed to seeing. There seemed to be a wave of heat that washed over the wagons and a moment later, once Lelia was placed inside her carriage, the call was taken up to move out, and the caravan began to move forward.
It was hard to really see the effects of the spell Lelia used each morning. They moved at the same pace, as far as Zechariah could tell. Perhaps slightly faster than he might expect from so heavily laden wagons. But well bred horses might be able to pull them as fast. Yet he couldn't quite deny the pace they traveled. It must have been close to half as far as he traveled with Zaki each day. It was impressive to say the least. Even Gerb couldn't deny that he could hop further than he would have thought possible. He claimed that it almost seemed like each leap was lighter than it should have been. Whatever the true effect of the spell, Zechariah could only guess, but the results were undeniable. So Zechariah snapped the reigns and got his horse into motion, traveling forward as the small caravan moved out.
They'd been on the road for several days now, moving steadily edgeward, a small noble procession. There was horses up front mounted by a lightly armored knight. They were minor nobles who either saught her service, or owed her family some debt. Four rode up front, two come up the rear, and two rode along side the caravan. Their captain rode passenger on the carriage in which Lelia rested, which pulled along behind the four frontal knights. Behind the carriage, was two wagons. One which carried her personal affects, and the other which carried her servants and supplies for the trip. Then came Zechariah's small cart upon which more supplies were loaded. All four vehicles rode in the same order, steadily onward.
November 8th, 2021
November 8th, 2021
It seemed a little perplexing to Zechariah that a noble, especially an accomplished arcanist, would travel with so light a guard. Though perhaps it was because she was an arcanist that they could afford to travel in so small a group. Or, perhaps, she was more minor a noble than he had anticipated and could simply not afford a larger guard? Zechariah pondered the question in futility before finally deciding that it was simply something that he would have to ask her. He made a mental note to himself to discuss the subject with her when Gerb finally decided to stop being an imbecile and take the reigns of their little cart. It was part of his good character traits, to be so stubborn that he would see his work done no matter how hard and difficult or impossible it may seem. Yet it was also a pain in the ass sometimes when that stubbornness was aimed at something so petty as hopping agonizingly along with the wagons. There was no need for it, but Gerb was committed to the 'exercise', though Zechariah was pretty sure it was simply a matter of not wanting to be a part of the caravan. Some kind of thumbing of the nose to Lelia. He had a stick up his ass bigger than Zaki. But at least Gerb was for the most part amiable, where as Zaki had been down right awful. Though, even Zaki Zecheriah had come to eventually like in the end.
A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered mercy killing Zaki with his own hands.
Zechariah shook himself out of his own reverie and focused again on driving and the aimless pondering of things. He wondered what Uthar might be like, and he wondered what was in store for him. Would people be welcoming to him, or hostile? Would he be able to find the help he longs for, or would he be condemned as he had always been in his life? He feared the worst, even maybe execution, but he knew he simply had to find out. His thoughts wandered further then, to wondering if he would learn to use magic like Lelia, or how to actually craft runes of practical use. So many questions and possibilities buzzed around in his mind, that he ended up losing track of time.
The steady sound of a grunt, thump, grunt, thump brought him out of the recesses of his mind, and he turned to see Gerb hopping along beside him. Zechariah brought the cart to a stop and shuffled to the side to let Gerb climb up into the driver's seat. He tossed his crutch up into the cart, before he hoisted himself with ease up and into the seat. He wiped his brow, sniffed, picked up the reigns and snapped them hard shouting 'Heya!' as he urged the horse on to catch up with the rest of the wagon pulling ahead. They quickly caught up to their place at the back of the caravan, and Gerb took up a water flask and took a long draught of water, sighing deeply and sitting back, propping his only foot up on the board in front of them. Zechariah watched him for a bit, mostly just to make sure that he was okay, before he hopped off the cart, and jogged his way up to the caravan line. Gerb raised an eyebrow at him, but ignored him otherwise.
He jogged past eyebrows and glares, snorts of disapproval and the clicking of tongues as he past the first and second wagons, until he came finally to the carriage that bore Lelia. Not seeing her at the window, he knocked on the door, drawing a glance from the guard captain as he looked around from the front of the carriage, and he received yet another scowl. Shortly thereafter, Lelia's head appeared at the window, looking out quizzically.
"Yes?" She asked. "Is something wrong?"
"No, not at all My Lady. I simply wished to speak with you."
She frowned, seemingly confused. "Speak with me about what? You're sure nothing is wrong?"
"Yes My Lady, nothing is wrong. I just have some matters I wished to discuss with you." Zechariah said, feeling somewhat hurt and puzzled himself. Why was she being so difficult?
"Very well. Come in." She said disappearing from the window. Zechariah took hold of the hand rail, and leapt up onto the footboard to secure his footing. Taking hold of the door latch, he leaned back letting the door swing open past him, and then pulled himself up and into the carriage. He had to duck as he did so so as to not hit his head on the small door frame but once inside, he was able to sit down with ease. As he climbed inside, he saw the door on the other side open, and a serving woman deftly step out give them privacy, shutting the door behind her. She was quick at her job for in the time it took Zechariah to climb inside, there was already a wine flask, some biscuits and two small goblets set out upon a small tray that swung lightly from hooks in the ceiling, allowing Zechariah and Lelia to sit opposite each other, with a small table of refreshments between.
"What is it I can help you with Zechariah?" Lelia asked sweetly as she poured herself a small portion of wine. The goblets were small, and the portion even smaller. Little more than a few sips really. Pragmatic Zechariah supposed, considering that dining in a moving carriage was likely a challenging task.
"First I suppose I wanted to apologize. I received a fair portion of disapproving looks as I approached your carriage. I take it that it's not proper for a surf to seek the company of a Lady, is it?" Zechariah asked.
"Outside of court, no. Some commoners will approach me in the streets if they are formerly acquainted, or wish to thank me for some deed I performed but it is not the custom to approach the nobility unannounced." Lelia explained patiently.
"I see. My apologize for the offence. I shall not do it again." Zechariah said bowing as much as he could safely do so.
"I forgive your faux pas. Not only were you ignorant to the custom but, though surf you may be, I suppose our unique relationship further complicates things." Lelia said evenly, though Zechariah blushed.
"Unique relationship?" Zechariah asked, feeling embarrassed by the term as well as the question and implication it suggested. He saw that Lelia blushed equally.
"I mean as...subject and scientist. We're not even in a teacher and student dynamic. I'm not sure it's common for two people to operate as researcher and subject of research. I don't know what dynamic it suggests or which precedent to use. Does your position as a surf trump your position as a subject of research? And what even is the position of subject of research?"
"I'm sorry." Zechariah interrupted as he sensed she was losing composure. "I realize that, I've caused you no lack of trouble since first meeting me. I thank you for your kindness and generosity and forgiveness and, if there is anything I can do to show my gratitude for your efforts, please simply let me know. I am at your disposal." He said bowing again, and blushing thoroughly. He was not only unaccustomed to nobility, but also was feeling very vulnerable. That said, he could not let her graciousness go unappreciated.
"Thank you Zechariah." She said, still blushing but nodding softly. "I appreciate the gesture. I'll be sure to take you up on it, should I have need of your services."
Though the terminology made Zechariah squirm inside, he felt like he had said and done the right thing for Lelia visibly relaxed as she spoke those words. Some tradition or common enough dynamic or phrase that she felt comfortable saying them. "So..." Zechariah ventured, "Is it also inappropriate for a surf to bring up topics of conversation?"
She smiled at him. "Somewhat, but as we've established, ours is a unique dynamic, so I will be happy to permit it. What is it that you wish to inquire about?"
"Thank you My Lady." Zechariah said, picking up a biscuit and biting into the sweet, crunchy snack. "I was wondering...well...about you and...about me and what might happen to me and...a lot of stuff really." Zechariah said, not knowing really where to begin.
"I see, that's quite a bit to be pondering about." Lelia said slightly amused though her mirth seemed to fade. "Ask away, whatever you desire, and I shall answer if I deign to do so."
"Yeah, that sounds good." Zechariah nibbling on the biscuit as he pondered where to begin. "Well, I guess as good a place to start as any would be, why do you travel with so few guards? I would have thought a noble would travel with a small army? Perhaps not all nights of course, but there's got to be plenty of mercenaries for higher. Especially considering the war we're in. Do you simply not need more guards cause of your magic? Or do you like...well..." Zechariah blushed as he slid into awkward silence.
"Or do I like what?" Lelia pushed, seeming to be either unoffended, or simply to enjoy his awkwardness.
"Or...do you not have the wealth or prestige to afford more?" Zechariah said averting his eyes and speaking quietly. "I'm sorry if that offends My Lady, I'm just confused and curious is all."
"It's okay Zechariah." She assured him, settling back with a biscuit in hand of her own. "I am not terribly offended. I have little love for the courts or their traditions though, I admit that I am accustomed to them." She sighed lightly as her gaze became somewhat distant. "Truth is, I suppose it's a bit of both. Or rather, that one permits the other. I'm not a terribly wealthy Lady, nor one of much political power. Ever since my husband died, and before I could bear him an heir, my position in court has suffered greatly. All my husbands possessions went to his brother and though I have a stipend upon which I can live in noble comfort for the rest of my life, financing expeditions is beyond my financial capacity. However, it is also due to my magical aptitude that I am able to travel with a smaller guard, thus enabling my financial limitations to hinder me less so than they otherwise would."
November 9th, 2021
November 9th, 2021
"You're married?" Zechariah asked somewhat shocked. She seemed so young, no older than Zechariah for sure. "How old are you?"
Lelia bristled at the lack of tact, but answered him evenly nonetheless. "Surely even you know that it is improper to ask a Lady her age? Pray tell you are not that severely uncultured?"
"I apologize My Lady. You look so youthful that I was taken aback that you were not only married, but also a widow."
"It is not as uncommon as you might expect. Many young ladies are promised in matrimony from the day they learned to walk. Though it is frowned upon many still are wedded as children, if their husband is of age or already managing their estates."
"Married as children?" Zechariah asked confused. "I thought that was outlawed years ago."
"To a degree." Lelia explained as a matter of factly. "What largely changed was what constitutes a child. Rather than a defined age, women can now be wedded after their first blood."
"After their first blood?" Zechariah asked in disbelief. "But, that's to young. Far to young."
"It gets worse I'm afraid." Lelia said more quietly. "Many noble families get into dire political or financial straits and...will either use medicines to try and force an early blood or just lie out right. There is no regulation or enforcement around it after all."
"That's...horrible." Zechariah said feeling shocked and disgusted. "And you were..." Zechariah asked without finishing the question. Lelia simply nodded averting her eyes. "I'm so sorry." Zechariah finished awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.
"I saved my family from destitution and potential exile. I was a small sacrifice to pay to ensure the safety of my family." Lelia reasoned though Zechariah felt like that answer was just a little too rehearsed.
"I'm sure you've made your family very proud." Zechariah said, hoping that it was the right thing to say.
Lelia just laughed lightly. "I doubt it I'm afraid. If they haven't completely forgotten about me by now, they likely want nothing to do with me. As I've said, I'm not in the courts good graces."
"Surely they would still support you?" Zechariah asked. "You're family."
"I don' tknow. I haven't seen or heard from them for several revolutions." Seeing Zechariah's confusion she added, "I'm Norgraithian by birth."
Zechariah blushed. "I suppose that explains the blonde hair and fair skin. I should have guessed."
"Does the blond hair and fair skin offend?" Lelia asked.
"Oh no, certainly not! If anything it serves to make you more exotic in Umar."
"You find me exotic?" She asked slyly.
Though she tried to make him stumble with flirtation, his time around Nawfa had prepared him better for such things. "Indeed I do." He admitted. Though lightly embarrassed he was not the bumbling fool he had been just a few cycles before. "Does being perceived as exotic please your sensibilities?"
This time it was Lelia who blushed. "I don't know. Perhaps it does." Lelia said burying her face in her tiny goblet, wishing it was just a bit bigger. Taking a bit of her biscuit she cleared her throat and deftly made to change the subject. "What of your family? Are you still in contact with them? I know you have a somewhat rocky past with them but are they present in your life still?"
"As far as I'm aware, yes." Zechariah said relaxing back into his seat. "My family did much that was questionable but they intended well. When I left Hyran I left with their blessing. I haven't yet been back or managed to send them a letter since I left though. But I hope to do so once I reach Uthar.
"It gladdens me to hear it. One's family, though wrongs they may commit, are family in the end and should be cherished if possible." She said sagely. "As for the letter, I would be more than happy to scribe your letter for you if you like?"
"I would be most honored ifyou would scribe for me." Zechariah said jovially. "Speaking of Uthar, I was wondering what myself and Gerb might be able to expect upon arrival?"
Lelia cocked her head at him frowning in confusing. "what do you mean?" She asked.
"Well, you agreed to travel with us to Uthar and you have referred to me as your subject of research so, I feel comfortable in assuming that I will be at least somewhat protected from the authorities. But what can I expect in regard to Gerb's status? What of my employment? And..."Zechariah added hesitantly, "might I be able to learn some magic alongside your studies?"
Lelia perked up, eyes widening lightly as she considered the presented questions. "You wish to learn magic?"
Zechariah scratched his head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I know. It is a foolish and childish dream that a farmer's son might learn magic but, with my hand the way it is and things, I thought it might be a slight possibility that I might have been born with the gift."
"Oh! Well, it may be both closer and further from your grasp than you realize. You see, theoretically everyone can use magic. There's just a few somewhat complex factors." Lelia explained hesitantly and vaguely.
"Really?" Zechariah exclaimed surprised. "I thought you had to have noble blood in you or something to be able to use magic?"
"No no, nothing like that. The biggest two hurdles to being able to use magic is the Court Arcanist, and your access to the education and required investor. The Court Arcanist is in charge of managing and licensing all magical practitioners in Umar, myself included. In order to be able to legally use magic you have to be chosen by the Court Arcanist and deemed 'worthy' of being licensed. Any non licensed use of magic brands you an apostate, which is a broad term for any unlicensed use of magic."
Lelia took several more sips of wine, before continuing in her instruction. "However, being permitted to use magic, doesn't leave you with the knowledge on how to use it, nor does being educated in magic, necessarily grant you the powers of an Arcanist. You see, there's many different forms of magic, all with different uses and functions and methods and sources of power. However, all kinds of magic can be boiled down into two primary categories known as 'The Eliciters' and the 'Impelsors'. You see, all beings can conjure and control magic innately. Those who practice magic in this way, fall into the Eliciters category. However, that power is very limited and difficult to use. Therefore, the more ambitious magical practitioners seek their power outside of themselves, and employ the use of magical artifacts, spirits or raw Aether, to be able to fuel their magic. These people are the Impelsors. So, even if you were chosen by the Court Arcanist, and given an education in the magical arts, you would still only be an Eliciter, unless you were able to become an Impelsor, and that can only be done by having a wealthy investor, and a second approval of the Court Arcanist."
"So first thing I need to do is kiss the Court Arcansist's ass." Zechariah said sourly, feeling a bit lost, confused and disheartened. "Great."
"It's not so bad, really. Additionally, you'll have me on your side, so you could at the very least, be permitted to be an Eliciter. With your unique case, my support and hard work you could learn to use magic."
"Would I be able to cast spells like you? Like this spell you use to make the caravan travel faster?" Zechariah asked hopefully.
Lelia frowned looking uneasy. "N-no... I'm afraid not. Attempting to cast a spell of this magnitude as an Eliciter, would likely kill you. As an Eliciter you have to draw the energy from within your own body, and trying to sustain the tremendous amounts of energy required for this spell, would kill you. I'm sorry. The, uses of an Eliciter are, limited." Lelia looked at Zechariah's crest fallen expression. "But don't worry, you can still do quite a bit as an Eliciter. It's not like they're useless. Indeed, though they may be far and few in between, local Eliciters often set up shops as fortune tellers, traveling priest hoods, village wizards and the like. You can not only make quite a bit of coin, but you can also command a fair bit of power and respect."
"But it's not real magic. Is it? Not the kind of magic that can walk through people's minds. Not the kind of magic that can force a demon into physical form or cause an entire caravan to move faster than usual for days on end. Impelsors are the true magic users."
Lelia looked a even more disheartened. "I suppose you could say that but, I suppose I didn't mention... Impelsors all have to pay a price for their power."
"A price?" Zechariah asked confused. "What price?"
"You see, because an Eliciter's power comes from within themselves, they may be limited but they are only limited by their own body, and the amount of energy they wish or can expend. If you cast too many spells as an Eliciter, you'll get tired, and have to stop. You sleep, and you've returned to the same as the day before. Nothing is lost. Impelsors on the other hand...are cursed. See?" She said gesturing to the crystalline growths that sprouted from her eyes and lightly embraced and fanned her neck. "This is my curse."
"Curse?" Zechariah asked confused and disbelieving. "They, may look a bit abnormal but, the crystals are beautiful. How is that a curse?"
"It is a curse because...one day it will kill me. The crystals grow too large, particularly inside the body, and kill the user."
"What!" Zechariah looked away bewildered. "Just like that you'll die?"
"I'm afraid so. It is the price of all Arcanists. Well, there's three primary curses for Arcanists, but yes, it all kills us eventually. If not an Arcanist, then you can theoretically commune with the spirits of the world and become a Warlock, or channeler, where you bind yourself to the will and contract of your companion and though you will not spontaneously die, you will have to live your life entirely in a constant compromise with a spirit. A contract that will lead to you becoming possessed by the spirit should you fail to meet the agreements."
November 10th, 2021
November 10th, 2021
"Possession? People willingly choose that?" Zechariah asked wholly horrified. "Why? Why would anyone want to even risk being possessed?"
Lelia looked away thoughtfully and shrugged. "Power." She said simply. "In the end, everything comes down to power. Some people think that they can achieve far more if they manage to find themselves a contract that aligns with their own goals. In theory, it's possible but the risk of having a bunch of manic possessed powerful Impelsors running amuck forced the Council of Arcanists to impose bans on Warlocks."
"Wait, what does a Warlock's power look like?" Zechariah asked curiously.
"What do you mean?" Lelia inquired.
"Like, you seem to always have this like...light and thunder about you. Is that how it is for all Arcanists? And, what does it look like for Warlocks?"
"Oh, the fallout. Every Arcanist has fallout, but everyone's looks different. There are often similarities between different kinds of Arcanist group, but for the most part it's very individualistic. Warlocks on the other hand, have no signs. It's one of the reasons they are considered more dangerous than Arcanists."
"Wait, no magical signs? At all?" Zechariah asked incredulously. "Not even the spirit itself?"
Lelia shook her head. "No, no spirit. Most Warlocks will invoke spells or make motions along with their magic, because it helps them focus their power, but the more powerful or well disciplined Warlocks don't have to lift a finger. The Spirit does pretty much all the work for them. However, you cannot see the spirits themselves. Only through special rituals or enchantments can you see the spiritual."
"Then, what kind of magic do the Draconian's use?" Zechariah asked confused.
"Ah, yes. Those." Lelia said as she began to play with a lock of golden hair. "We're not quite sure what those are. As of yet, we haven't had the opportunity to capture or study one. Some theorize that they're spirits made manifest during spellcraft but others, myself included suggest disagree arguing that we would have seen something similar with ours if that was the case. Of course we don't have a large sample size but, we have a few."
"Is that it? Just the one theory?" Zechariah asked.
"No, there's others. Some believe that they're some form of magical species that came from their planet. Which is a very likely one. Why would they have been the only life to have been deposited on our planet? Others theorize that they are like...the children of spirits? And that the method we use to contact spirits only contacts fully grown spirits, and the method the Draconians use somehow contacts child spirits. Or something like that. That one is by far the least credible."
"Strange..." Zechariah said, thinking wildly about what kind of world the Draconians must have once resided on, and finding himself completely incapable of seeing it. "What of the last two forms of magic? Ritualists and Runesmiths? What is their magic like?"
"Well, Ritualists are similar to Warlocks, in that their power comes from the spirits of the world. However, a Ritualist sort of strikes small deals, or in another way of interpreting it, 'trick's the spirits into giving them power. Or, bribery or some natural addiction or something. No one knows exactly how it works or why the spirits listen to Ritualists, but whenever a Ritualist starts to prepare a spell, he brings many spirits swarming to him. The sacrifices, the incenses, the songs, it pleases the spirits, and in turn the spirits bestow the Ritualist with power. The danger with Ritualism is that if the Ritual is interrupted or performed badly, than you might upset the spirits and have them seek retaliation on you."
"Runesmiths on the other hand, requires a bit of metaphysical theory(Author's note: Input second theory about the rune crafting being an old form of language or art that the God's used before they made mankind.) You see, the current running theory of how the universe exists, is in that there are different...realities...or different universes, that are paralleled with our own, and that are existing on top of each other, intermingling. And it is in this intermingling that our reality exists. So, although we don't really understand where Runesmiths power comes from, some believe that a rune is a sort of interdimensional key, made manifest in a three dimensional reality. They somehow fit into the dimensional planes and rifts, and allow a specific reality seem through more than the others. The run then takes that energy seeping through, and structures it into a spell that manifests for us. That's why Runes have to be so detailed and specific. The more detailed they are, and the larger they are, the more energy comes through. If you follow?"
Lelia asked wincing as she read the overwhelmed expression on Zechariah's face. "I'm sorry." She said blushing, "I really like all the magical theories and I get a bit carried away sometimes. I didn't mean to throw so much at you."
"Oh! No, it's okay." Zechariah said quickly. "I actually really like learning about it. It's just that its a lot to try and take in and understand."
Lelia nodded. "Thank you Zechariah. It's fun to teach it." She said smiling.
In order to avoid further awkwardness, though he did think that was practically impossible, Zechariah pressed on presenting another question. "So, are you a Runesmith and an Arcanist? 'Cause the only times I've seen you cast magic you've had to employ runes as well."
"No, and, kind of yes. It's complicated." Lelia said rubbing her head, looking questioningly at Zechariah. He nodded eagerly so she continued. "The idea is that because we all exist in the same reality, that all our magics exist under the same laws. So as one thing works with one form, it will work in lesser with other forms. So, no, I'm not a Runesmith as the standard Runesmith would be understood. However, runes are a natural part of our existence, and so one would be remiss of us to ignore other parts of magic, just because we're focusing on one. Such as...say...An archer wouldn't specialize in hand to hand combat, but an Archer would also be foolish to not practice with hand to hand combat. Does that make sense? It's not required for Arcanists to speak, move our hands, sacrifice things or draw runes. However, it seems to help reduce the amount of fallout we have to endure, as well as making our magic far more potent. It takes longer, so may still use power without doing everything, especially in an emergency, but for the most part if we can, we employ as many additional practices as possible."
Zechariah furrowed his brow and scratched his stubble. Lelia sat patiently for a time, and caught Zechariah glancing at her frequently. "There's something else you wish to ask, isn't there?" Lelia guessed.
He flushed and nodded. "Yes, but, I'm not sure it would be welcomed by you."
Lelia hummed in deep contemplation for a moment. "I suppose you won't know until you ask. How about, if I promise to not be upset at you if I am offended, and I'll just let you know and we can move on?" Lelia asked smiling sweetly.
"Y-yeah. That sound okay. Doesn't really make it any easier to actually ask though." Zechariah said, before taking deep breath. "Okay, well, here we go. I...I wanted to know, what was different about magical implements and...my hand but...I suppose the real question is: Can we talk about the demon?"
Lelia's eyes fell, and her posture stiffened. Zechariah opened his mouth to apologize but Lelia raised her hand silencing him. "It's okay. I'm upset, but not offended. I suppose that it is time I talk about it." She said with a tremble running down her spine. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Steeling herself she turned back to Zechariah and met his eyes. "Ask away Zechariah."
Zechariah felt awful for asking such things of her but, he couldn't wait any longer. He had to ask, and find out. "What happened? How did it find us? How did it come out? How did it fly through walls? What was your staff doing? What did you do to it and how and... and.... what happened to my arm?"
"You've been burning to ask these questions huh?" Lelia laughed softly. "Well, I don't know if I'll manage to get to answering all of them, but I can try. What happened?" She ask sitting back and looking out the carriage door window. "Truthfully, I have no idea. But, I do have some theories."
Trying to lighten the mood, Zechariah quipped, "You're pretty fond of those, aren't you? Theories?"
Lelia responded with a piteous laugh and shook her head. "I do like my theories. You want to hear them or not?" She asked Zechariah turning back to him and raising an eyebrow. He nodded quickly but his grin faded as her mind was cast back to the events of that horrific encounter.
November 11th, 2021
November 11th, 2021
"As I said, I truthfully have no idea on most of those questions, so I'll start with the ones I don't know. How did it find us and how did it come out? I don't know. It shouldn't have been able to sense us, as we weren't in it's head. What happened to your arm? I have no idea. It's obvious it has something to do with that rune carved into your hand, but what it is, why your arm changed and why the demon fled or disappeared or whatever happened, I'm sorry. I don't know. It's one of the primary reasons I agreed to travel with you to Uthar. In the end, I still need to know what happened. To find those answers, I need you."
Lelia paused for a moment, sighing heavily and taking another long draught of wine. "As for some of the other questions, the staff isn't actually mine. You see, I specialize in psychic magic. The staff was leant to me by another Arcanist in Uthar. You'll likely meet him. His specialty is planar magic. The assortment of magical implements you saw was donated by other Arcanists, to aid me in my travels and search for the Order. The staff he leant me was charged with a lot of planar energy, which I used to bind the demon to our world."
"W-why did you do that? Why would you want to do that?" Zechariah asked confused. "Surely it would have been less harmful if he wasn't part of our world?"
Lelia gripped her goblet hard, her knuckles going white, as she looked out the window again. "That, isn't usually the case." Her hand tremble as she stared off into the distance. Zechariah sat, waiting patiently, as she struggled with her emotions. Eventually she continued saying, "Before witnessing...what we did...I would have said that demons didn't exist. The gods exist, they manifest and speak to us when they desire to do so. Angels exist, they have been sent on occasion to do the God's bidding. But no one, as far as I'm aware, has ever had a legitimate encounter with a demon. What most people associate with demons are simply delusions, or powerful spirits malicious spirits. A spirit of fire that wants to destroy all life it encounters, makes for a very good case for a demon, but ultimately it is not."
"You think that my demons are real demons?" Zechariah asked confused.
"I don't know what I think. You present a magical and theological quandary. No one creates runes without meaning to, and you have apparently real demons existing inside you. You see, I did what I did because although spirits can manifest in our world, they don't exist here naturally. They exist in their own realms. So when they manifest here, with the full power of their realm behind them, they can be quite dangerous. If you cut a spirit off from it's realm, it usually becomes fairly helpless." She paused, shivering. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she continued. "Whatever resides with you, was not weakened by being put under a planar binding. Or if it was, I don't know how. I saw you hack it apart, and it just laughed at you. It invoked no power, or names, it cast no spells. It shouldn't have been able to do any of that. It's literally not possible. At least...not possible with our current understanding of the world. Which will now have to change because it did happen." She said idly scratching at her breast, visibly disproportionate to her healthy breast under her clothing.
"I'm sorry." Zechariah said again. He had apologized numerous times but he knew nothing else to say or do.
Lelia shook her head. "Thank you, but it's okay. I no longer blame you for it."
"Why not? It's entirely my fault."
"I don't believe you knew the extent of it's powers or maliciousness. You were seeking help and, well, it went wrong."
"Truth be told, I've never actually seen them before. I mean, I guess I have, otherwise they wouldn't be there in my memory, but, I have no recollection of seeing them."
"That's another thing. If we find a way to properly bind your demons, I would like to visit your head again. It seems that someone, or, rather, the demons have been altering your memories. I'd like to help you find them all but, it will likely lead to some traumatic memories."
Lelia stated, leaving the unasked question hang in the air. "That's okay. I want to know to." Zechariah said nodding his consent.
"Truthfully, you terrify me Zechariah. I pray to all the divines that what haunts you isn't actually a demon. I'd much rather exist in a world where demons are simply myth and legend. You carry with you, the possibility of a horrifying reality in which I'm not sure I want anything to do with. But if the possibility is a reality, I also cannot go about living in ignorance anymore. You pose an existence that completely and entirely upsets everything that we've known and held to for years. You terrify me Zechariah."
Zechariah crumpled under the statement. Shoulders sagging and head drooping. It struck him deep in his heart. "I'm sorry. I never mean to hurt anyone. I never wanted to be hated. No one does."
Lelia looked back at Zechariah, her posture and expression softening. "No, it is I who must apologize. I know it's not your fault. You never asked for this. And I don't hate you Zechariah. Far from it. I'm just, scared. That's all."
"Thank you." Zechariah said quietly and though he appreciated what she said, he struggled to believe her. Feeling uncomfortable, he changed the subject. "I'm afraid though, that this was all a bit of a tangent. We never did get to talking about what we might expect for Gerb and I upon arrival in Uthar."
Lelia relaxed, appreciating the change of subject. "Oh, goodness, you're right! I completely forgot about that in light of arcane instruction. My apologies." She laughed largely in relief of stress. Zechariah shook his head, forcing himself to relax and partake in her smile. "What was it that you had asked again?"
"I was curious about Gerb's legal status, as well as mine I suppose, as well as if I might find employment there? I do not want to have to live off of your generosity My Lady. It's important to me to be able to, in some fashion, earn my way. Though, I understand that Gerb and I will cause you many problems before the Port is through."
"All fair questions and concerns. But, what is your legal status?" Lelia asked as her brow furrowed.
Zechariah flushed and scratched his head in shame, looking away. "Well, truth be told, I'm a deserter. After I was rescued from the imprisonment of the Draconians, I was pressed into service. But, things...happened...and I left. I got pressganged into service with some bandits, where I met Gerb. After..." Zechariah paused remembering the horrible things he had done to the farmer's family, his throat tightening. He pushed onwards. "After as disagreement, we killed the leader, and the band went their separate ways. So, I'm not only a deserter, but also a bandit though my banditry was short lived."
"Oh." Lelia said eyes wide as she looked down considering the information. "That does complicate things."
Zechariah sat in awkward silence, heart racing, feeling like he was facing his executioner. The anticipation was weighing heavily on him. Eventually Lelia looked up again and said, "Well, if the two of you are...amiable...to the idea, there is one loophole I know of. Common banditry is one thing, so Gerb may not be required to do so. But desertion? That is far more legally pressing."
"What's the loophole?" Zechariah asked nervously.
"Well..." Lelia said blushing. "You could become my slaves."
Zechariah felt cold. "W-what?" He asked incredulously.
"By law in Umar, slavery is considered a sufficient punishment for most crimes. There may be additional, how to say, requirements, in addition to the slavery, but you could forgo execution and, well...I wouldn't keep you locked in a dungeon or anything. You'd be a slave on paper only, and in practice just be like, more of my man servants."
Zechariah's head whirled as he considered the possibility. "W-what additional requirements? And, for how long?"
"Depends on the judgement but in order to avoid a death penalty, probably for life." She said cringing. "And, the judges might require additional punishments. Depending on the severity of crime and frankly, the mood of the judge."
"Additional punishments?" Zechariah asked, pressing her for more details. "Like what exactly?"
"Like...a number of lashings every cycle, or, being put in the stocks or something." She said quietly. "I know, it's...it's not a great solution, but I don't really know of any other way I could help you avoid the death penalty."
Zechariah sat back, stunned, eyes wide as he mulled it over in his head. "Well...I can't speak for Gerb, he's a prideful stubborn ass. But...if...well...I'd prefer to find another solution if possible, but if none comes up then, I'd rather be your slave than never find out what's going on with me. Or, more practically, I'd rather be a slave then dead."
November 12th, 2021
November 12th, 2021
Lelia nodded solemnly. "We won't be able to make it official until we reach Uthar but, I can begin writing up the writs of ownership as we travel. There's one last thing..." Lelia mentioned hesitantly, "You'll have to be marked in some way. Slaves sold on market are usually tattoed, slaves of criminal origins are usually branded."
Zechariah paled as he considered the reality of what he was talking about. "And slaves who volunteer for slavery?"
"Family slaves, as they are usually called, have a portion of their left ear removed. A simple 'V' is often permitted though slave stamps are often designed by the nobility to mimic their family crest. In all forms, it is designed to let any who look upon you to know that you are the property of another."
"Would I still be permitted to learn magic?" Zechariah asked.
"Theoretically." Lelia said. "Any magic you use would be sanctioned by my house and, any miss use of the magic would be fall on the reputation of my house, bringing shame that I cannot keep my slaves in line."
"And my family?" Zechariah asked slowly. "They wouldn't be harmed by my enslavement?"
"No! Goodness no." Lelia exclaimed emphatically. "You would also be free to visit them every now and then, per my leave of course. For the most part Zechariah, the slavery would entirely be a formality and I would permit you freedom to act or do as you please. So long as you do not bring harm to me and my house. Aside from common legal traditions, you'd effectively still be a freeman."
"Effectively?" Zechariah asked doubtfully. "In what legal traditions wouldn't I be free?"
Lelia cleared her throat but continued on. "Slaves are not permitted to travel outside of their owner's city of residence without proper permits. Slaves are not allowed to own property of their own, or engage in trade lest it be on their owner's behalf. Slaves are not allowed to marry, though many owners do permit slaves to, um, breed, and raise families, official marriage before the gods is forbidden."
"Breed?" Zechariah asked horrified. "You make it sound like I'd be as cattle."
"Some nobility do treat their favorite horses better than their slaves but, I can assure you that will not be the case for you and Gerb."
"How can I be certain of that though? I barely know you and now I have to entrust my entire life to you based entirely upon your word."
Lelia nodded quietly. "I understand. If it helps at all, you and Gerb would be the first and probably last slaves I own."
"You don't own any slaves?" Zechariah asked in disbelief. "What of all those servants who follow you?"
"Exactly that. Servants. I generally find that a happy and well paid servant is worth more and works harder than most slaves I've seen." Lelia paused, and finished her wine and buiscuit, giving Zechariah time to ponder things through. After some time she ventured, "So, should I start writing up the writ of ownership?"
Zechariah shook his head slowly. "Not yet. It may be the best course for me but, might you give me some time to consider your proposal and discuss things with Gerb?"
"Of course. I did say to take your time but, we only have a few more days before we reach Uthar so, it would be best if you made your decision sooner than later."
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