“Well,” Lilis said after the introductions were over, “Puck,
I want to know exactly how you got yourself into this condition.” She gently
prodded one of the bruises, inspecting it.
“Yes,” Ranasa spoke up, “You seem to have had quite a number
done on you.”
Puck looked at Ranasa solemnly, “It was the Bloodcloaks.”
“Archfiend take them and darkness consume them!” Ranasa
said, his face twisting suddenly with anger.
“Ranasa, Derru of Essoril, watch your tongue,” Lilis spoke
in a motherly tone.
“It is true,” Ranasa said still somewhat resolutely, though
in a quieter tone.
Aliyana patted Ranasa on the shoulder and whispered
something in his ear.
He nodded his head and fell silent.
“Let us all go inside,” Marad said, “There is food on the
table.”
“Is there a place we can stable the aldoms?” Cydas asked.
“We can throw something together in the workshop,” Marad
suggested.
“Come in, then,” Lilis ushered them into the house while
Cydas, Marad, Puck, Ranasa, and Aliyana helped with the aldoms and the balkar.
“Please, find a place to sit, whether at the table or in the
main room, I have plenty of plates.”
The delicious smells of cooking meat and bread wafted all
throughout the house. There were several wooden chairs, a rocking chair, and
other seats for everyone to sit at. Marc found himself sitting at the table
next to Laura. Laura placed her hand on his knee underneath the table. She
smiled at him. He smiled back. The wonderful smells made him conscious of his
own odor and just how long he had been on the road and the last time he had
taken a shower, or bathed, rather.
Lilis was quick on her feet with serving food, soon a
platter was laid out in front of everyone. The others came in and were also
given a plate of delicious food.
“Well,” Marad said as the eating was coming to an end,
“Puck, if you would,” He motioned for Puck to begin the story.
“Yes,” Puck replied, “This is not going to be a short
telling.”
And it wasn’t.
The story went until late into the
night and even till the morning.
Puck was not the only one to speak through it, either.
Almost everyone contributed to the conversation, whether it was telling a part
of the story Puck did not know, or explaining some things, like Cydas did when
they got to the Oracle, and like Marc did when he revealed that he was the
Wielder of the Flame.
Marc was not surprised by Puck’s Family’s reaction, but he
was still not used to it. Marc spoke about the Oracle’s mission for them, of
the search for the crystal shards to gather them together before the rising
darkness can do so. He talked about Tremos and the Oracles call for Marc and
the others to rise up and fight for good. When Puck revealed that Aliyana’s
pendant was one of the Crystal shards and talked about how they only had a map
to find them now instead of simply retrieving them with the orbs that the
Oracle spoke of that the Keeper had, Lilis spoke up.
“Yes,” She said, “It makes sense, give me a moment.”
She retreated into her bedroom and returned holding a small
orb.
It was perfectly clear and smooth in appearance, except for
a single crack on one side.
“Did you drop it?” Marc asked.
Lilis shook her head.
“No, this happened not too long ago.”
“That must have been when the other orb linking to this one
was destroyed,” Sesuadra said.
They all nodded, remembering what the Oracle, or a fraction
of the Oracle, had said.
“My great grandfather gave this to his wife with a charge to
keep it safe and it has been passed down to me, and I passed it down to
Aliyana, but I never knew of its importance.”
Puck told them of his escapades with the Bloodcloaks, at
which part his mother both chided him for his foolishness and expressed her
concern for the danger and hardship he had endured. He told them of the Journal
he had found and Marad asked to see it. Puck told them of their visit to the
Shyden monastery and everything that happened from there and down the river.
Finally, after a long time, they arrived at the part where
the Oracle had told Puck that Marc needed to speak with Marad.
“And that is why we are here,” Puck said, “The Oracle said
for you,” He looked at his father, “To use the Knowing, on the Sword of the
Phoenix.”
“the Knowing?” Marc asked.
“Also called the Sense,” Marad said, “In actuality, there is
no real name for it, We are Shifters, it is a power that flows in our blood. It
is the ability to sense and understand metal even past what the eye can see.”
“I don’t see why not, especially if the Oracle said to,” Marc
stood and crossed the room.
Marad stood as well.
Marc drew the Phoenix Blade carefully. The sword began to
glow.
“I still cannot believe all this is real,” Marad said
quietly.
Marc stepped forward and placed the sword into Marad’s
hands.
Marc thought that when he lifted his hands, the sword would
cease to glow, but when he did so, that was not the case.
Marad closed his eyes, the sword in his palms, facing up.
He dove into the metal with his power, seeking to understand
it. The magic of the sword was massive, overwhelmingly so. A sudden invisible
force, like a great gust of wind, pushed against Marad, visibly forcing him to
take a step back. Marad fought for his balance and to keep a sense of himself
against a power of such awe-inspiring magnitude. He suddenly opened his eyes,
but did not see the room with his wife, family, and son’s friends, instead he
was in an almost indescribable ethereal realm of moving sights and sounds. He
was standing, and yet also flying through the vibrant, noisy, kaleidoscope, at
an incredible pace. At first he felt lost, but as he reached out with his power
he began to make sense of things. Finally he realized that not only had he come
to know the metal of the Sword of the Phoenix, but he was experiencing, on a
vast impossible degree, the events or ‘memories’ that the sword had gone
through since its creation. The magic from the sword had amplified his magic,
allowing him to surpass anything he had achieved before.
One moment Marad was alone, and the next, Marc appeared,
participating in the spectacle.
“Marcus,” Puck’s father said.
Marc nodded, looking around him.
“Can you see everything I am seeing?” Marad asked.
Marc looked around and nodded, “I think so.”
Not only was the magic from the sword amplifying Marad’s
ability, but it was also transforming the limits and precepts that Marad was
forced to abide by while using the Sense, as if creating a new kind of magic of
its own classification.
Suddenly Puck was there as well, and then Drake. Sesuadra
appeared next and then finally Laura.
Where is Ziljdin?
Marc thought,
and Cydas? And the
rest of Puck’s family?
But no one else appeared.
“I can feel—” Marad said, straining against the power which
threatened to consume him, “something pulling at me. I will try and focus on
it.”
Everyone understood what Marad was describing because they
could feel the same thing.
Marad brought the sword up, still in his upturned palms, as
if an offering to the Exalted.
He summoned all the strength he had to focus on the
sensation that was tugging on his very essence.
Finally a bright light encompassed all of them and one by
one the images and sounds around them began to disappear until they were all
standing still on the slowly shifting silvery realm Marc had been to on several
other occasions.
The silvery realm quickly disappeared, however, and a series
of scenes replaced it, one after the other.
Laura, who was already next to Marc, put her hand in his and
stood as close to him as she could, while the surroundings around them changed.
They were flying over a city, almost like Kolima, in essence,
but on a grander scale, with more advanced architecture and taller buildings.
They were almost like skyscrapers to Marc, but not of steel girders and glass
windows like he was familiar with, but as if they were built with the aid of
magic, like a mega castle-esque fortress. It was situated in a lush woodland
valley surrounded by mountains with a river running nearby. On the outlying
areas were farmlands and smaller villages and towns.
Suddenly they were shooting downwards towards a part of the
city.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Marc could hear the gasps and sounds of astonishment from
the others, specifically Laura, since she was closer to him.
They found themselves suddenly in the city, moving towards a
small stone building with decorations engraved all around it. People dressed in
robes and clothes of all sorts of colors and variations walked along the
streets. Marc and the others were moving too quickly to make out much detail
but Marc thought he spied something that looked to be a sort of transportation
vehicle wagon hybrid that hovered. They reached the building quickly. Magical
glowing lights which appeared to Marc as almost neon-like but still
fantastical, advertised that the building was a smithery.
Next the group found themselves inside the building in a
large smithing chamber with a forge more advanced than Marad and the others had
ever seen.
A muscular and mighty looking man stood near the center of
the room, hammering a giant hammer against hot metal upon a sort of faux-anvil.
A second man stood nearby. He was dressed in traveling gear
and armor similar to the manner Marc had come to recognize in Lyrridia, and yet
slightly different, a little more refined, or cultured kind of style.
“Rynar, you can truly work wonders,” The second said to the
man hammering on the anvil.
“Tasard, I promise you, I will make you a sword of the likes
you have never seen. No beast, large or small, will be able to stand against
your might when you wield it,” Rynar replied.
Then suddenly a flash of light replaced the scene with the
silvery realm once more.
“I cannot believe—” Puck whispered.
“The Sword of the Phoenix,” Sesuadra said almost
breathlessly, “We have just witnessed the creation of the Sword of the
Phoenix.”
“What is more,” Marad said, also visibly drained by the
vision, “through my power, I was able to sense that I am a direct descendant of
Rynar, and in turn, so are you, my son.” He looked at Puck.
No one was able to reply as there was another flash of light
and then came a sound like all the air in the world was being slowly inhaled
followed by a deep boom, then silence.
Lilis and the others watched, some
in worry, others in curiosity, as Marad, Marc, Laura, Sesuadra, Drake and Puck
seemed to be caught up in a sort of unified vision together.
It did not last long.
Soon Marad, and the others sharing the vision, returned to
the present and collapsed into their chairs, clearly drained by the collective
magic.
The Phoenix Blade slipped out of one of Marad’s hands and
its tip hit the wooden floor of the Salvend home.
Lilis strode over and gently retrieved the magical weapon
from her husband.
She gave the sword to Marc and he sheathed it with a heavy
and tired hand.
“What happened?” Zildjin asked.
The sun was just beginning to rise, signaling the dawn of
the next day. Light filtered in through the partly shuttered windows.
“We need to get to the Oracle,” Marc said.
“Indeed,” Cydas agreed.
“You are in no position to go gallivanting about right after
that powerful of an enchantment!” Lilis said in a motherly tone, “Especially
after you have gone through so much in such a short amount of time already!”
She was mostly speaking of Puck then.
Marc nodded in agreement, he just wanted to sit in the chair
forever and sleep.
“What happened?” Zildjin asked again, his curiosity was
killing him.
“I’ll explain,” Marc began, but he felt too tired to really
do so.
“You can explain later,” Lilis stood in the middle of the
room, ready to be in charge, “We shall make up some beds and shutter the
windows, we all need to get some rest, it has been a long night of no sleep.”
No one objected, but Marc could sense that the others who
had not participated in the shared vision felt slightly left out, specifically
Zildjin.
Marc did not really pay attention to who got arranged where,
but he felt himself being led by Lilis to a room near the back of the house,
which had been darkened from the light of the new day.
“You can rest here,” Lilis said.
Marc nodded his head and gently lay down. He felt soft
feathery pillows and a number of stacked blankets on top of something else
fairly soft, and he was asleep in no time.
He vaguely remembered other sounds, a few bumps and whispers
nearby in the room, perhaps that of others who would share the space as a
makeshift guest room to rest but not much else woke him from his deep sleep.
He awoke to what sounded like
muffled repetitive thudding nearby.
He looked around. Sesuadra was asleep on the far side of the
room upon a makeshift bed.
Lilis was quietly collecting blankets and pillows that had
made up other similar beds.
“I am sorry dear,” She said, “Did I wake you?”
Marc shook his head, “No, I just, woke up.”
She nodded her head.
“Now that you are awake, up to the bathing room.”
Marc rubbed his eyes and nodded. He looked down, he was
still in his traveling clothes but the armor and his boots had been removed.
“Come on,” Lilis urged kindly.
Marc nodded and followed Puck’s mother down a short hall and
to the bathing room.