Season of Bloom - 18. Rest and Restoration

The group sat against a stone wall, the fortress filled with the hum of workers busy repairing the ruined keep. Jubilost was already working on his map, filling out the last blank spot. Linzi sat with a book in hand, the halfling filling out her own notes on their travels.

For his part, Kiba was bored. The kobold was running through various stances, trying to get his magic to work with his blade in different ways. He had been watching Valerie, seeing the way she moved with blade and shield, and though he didn’t exactly have a shield, Kiba tried to replicate her motions.

“Wrong.”

The kobold squeaked at the dark one’s voice, spinning on his heel. He twisted and fell, nearly cutting his leg on the blade. Alarm ran through his mind, and Kiba took a moment to reassure Apsu that he was okay.

The half elf stepped toward him, a fiery scimitar in his hand.

“Do not stab forward with this blade. The curve would do little damage.”

Kiba watched in astonishment as the dark one rotated the flaming sword onto its side, thrusting at an angle.

“Try that way.”

“Why help Kiba?” the kobold asked suspiciously.

“Because you can keep me alive. But only if you stay alive. Now, try again. The same maneuver, but with a hooked thrust.”

Kiba frowned, but straightened out. He moved through the exercise clumsily, ending it with a side thrust like the dark one showed him. A snort came from the wall, the fighter shaking her head in derision.

The dark one snapped at the fighter, and she stood up with a sigh. Kiba protested as she grabbed his sword, but the human ignored him, swinging the blade lightly. Dropping into a stance, she flowed through the exercise fluidly, ending with a perfect hook that would spear anyone who happened to be unarmoured.

“Like that,” Faes said, motioning with his head.

The fighter returned the blade, and Kiba walked through the motions uncertainly. He repeated them again and again, slowly gaining confidence and speed. Faes began working on the same exercise, but he seemed to have trouble with his blade; the flames kept vanishing every few seconds, leaving him with an empty hand. It didn’t seem like a very good way to fight to Kiba. How could he take advantage of openings if his blade wouldn’t stay up? More than that, when had the dark one even learned to summon a blade like that? It wasn’t long before Kiba found himself focusing less on the exercises he was doing and more on the flickering blade Faes kept trying to conjure.

“Again,” the dark one said sharply, and with a jolt, Kiba realised he had stopped his own work.

The kobold lifted his blade again, letting the barest hint of electricity run through the steel. Something told him that the electricity wasn’t enough to kill, but then, it didn’ have to be. It could sap the strength of anyone it touched, and the steel itself would be the killing object.

“You need a better blade,” Faes scoffed as Kiba walked through the exercise again and again. “Maybe we’ll raid a kobold den for you. Or that weaponsmith, maybe she can make a scimitar to fit you.”

Kiba wasn’t sure exactly what weaponsmith that was, but he was too busy to worry about that. Keeping the right amount of lightning on his blade was proving more difficult than he’d thought. But the kobold kept at it. He would learn. And then he would show the grey one at the city that he should be feared, not mocked.

“And it’s finished!”

Lapis glanced up, his hand coming to a rest on Khemet’s back as Jubilost stood up in triumph. The amurrun scratched idly, watching the gnome curiously. They’d been sitting for nearly an hour. Was that long enough? Was it too long? Lapis really had no idea; even as a traveller, he had never been interested in cartography. In hindsight, that might have been an error, but thus far he had travelled through lands that had already been mapped, and had access to decent maps that were readable in nearly any language. It wasn’t until he had gotten to Ismenia that Lapis and Khemet had run the risk of getting lost. Even then, Lapis liked getting lost. Sure, it meant more days on the road, but it also meant finding new things, seeing wonders in the world that other people rarely noticed.

“Dwarven fortress, you shall hide no more,” the gnome grinned. “The academies of the River Kingdoms thank you for your help. And I have also been authorized to thank you by way of two thousand gold. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

A sack thumped onto the ground beside Lapis, and the amurrun blinked in surprise.

“That’s it? You’re done?”

“With this part. Now all I have to do is finish my article for the Independence,” Jubilost replied. “Unfortunately I can’t exactly promise good news from the article. Monsters roaming the lands, no education among the people, and you need an insane amount of luck to actually find anything.”

“If you wish to be truly impartial, you might add that the baron sees to issues personally, so most of the problems should sort themselves out soon enough,” Lapis shrugged.

“Hmm. I suppose I could add near the end that the barony is still in development and there are positive points to look forward to,” the gnome said diplomatically. “Naturally it will take time to complete the article. I’m sure you don’t mind hosting me at your capital until then? Great. Oh, and I’m willing to travel with you if you ever need someone more intelligent than your usual companions.”

“Before we go… I had a question about Shaynih’a,” Lapis frowned. “That tale she told us, about the man who ate a tiger whole and took on its rage to become the first rakshasa-”

“Complete falsehood,” Jubilost scoffed.

“Do you have a different explanation then?”

“I do not concern myself with the myths of the world. I am much more interested in scientifically proven fact.”

“Have you ever seen a rakshasa?” Linzi asked suddenly, looking up from her book.

“I cannot say I’ve had the displeasure, no,” Jubilost scowled.

“I thought her story was great. It was quirky, sad, and insightful. But you dismissed it out of hand because you didn’t witness the events with your own eyes. If I told you that a person could wield fire like a sword, would you dismiss that too, simply because you had never seen it?”

The halfling pointed toward where Faes was still swinging a sword around, the fiery scimitar casting a mesmerizing glow in the darkening sky.

“But a human eating himself to death on a tiger just so he could be reborn? That’s far too outlandish,” Jubilost scoffed.

“Maybe it was a metaphor?” Linzi chirped. “A tale that’s been orally preserved and picked up a few nuances. The Vudrani might use it as a bedtime fable. Don’t get too greedy or you might not live to reap what you sow. But it still might have roots in a true story. Maybe we could ask Tristian. He’s Qadiran, sort of. He might have a similar story. And then we would be doing science, right? Examining what we know to find out what fits?”

“That’s not how any of this works,” Jubilost exclaimed. “It is a myth, nothing more. If you wish to waste your time looking into this, be my guest. But I’m keeping my feet firmly on the ground.”

The gnome looked up as a fat drop of rain splashed over his face. He scowled at the sky.

“Why don’t we go into the fortress? This is going to be quite some storm,” he growled.

Lapis nodded his agreement, calling to the rest of the group. Before long, they were bundled down in a barracks within the refurbished keep, safe from the weather outside.

A jet of fire shot from Faes’ finger, igniting the wood beside Lapis. The amurrun let out a quiet sigh, setting his tinderbox aside.

“It would be nice if you warned me before doing that,” he muttered, leaning against Khemet.

The tiger curled up protectively around the catfolk, eyes staring at Faes defiantly.

“But you like the fire,” Faes smirked, leaning in close to Lapis. “You must; why else would you be so disobedient?”

“But there will be no training tonight?”

“I believe I’m the one who decides that,” Faes leered. “But no. Too many people. We wouldn’t want to give away the secret of your success now, would we?”

Lapis shook his head quickly.

“Good kitty,” Faes smirked, rubbing Lapis’ head.

A purr shook the amurrun’s body, and the hollowborn chuckled quietly. Lapis tried to push against the hand. But all too soon, Faes removed his reward, staring at Lapis intently. The cat was not a problem yet. He had things well in hand, but the half-drow knew he needed to find a better balance. This game they played was dangerous, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure in using Lapis for his own gain.

“Get some sleep. We have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”