Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sweat dripped down Kael’s back as he hefted his pack over his shoulder. It was only mid-morning, but the autumn sun beat down mercilessly on the wooded land. Heaving a breath, he groaned in annoyance, reaching inward in his mind, feeling the Ki in his solid body. A quick jolt of Somatisence, and he was no longer tired. Cracking his neck, he continued on through the heat, feeling no adverse affects as he neared the stables on the edge of the city. 

A thin, frail man stood as he approached.

“Welcome to Terra, stranger. What brings you to our city?” 

“Good morning to you, sir.” Kael responded eloquently, bowing his head lightly to the elder. “I’m in search of a bed and good ale to fill my belly.” 

“Ah, you’ve come to the right place, lad.” The elder smiled warmly. “The Dancing Mare has the finest barley ale you’ll taste in the four Lands.” 

“Excellent, although if I find it lacking, I’ll know who to blame for my disappointment.” Kael winked at the elder, chuckling. The elder returned his jovial demeanor, and they clasped wrists.

“Uthrid.” The elder gave his name.

“Kael of Eastland, friend.” 

“If you’re needing a steed in your travels, come see me.” The elder nodded, clapping Kael on the shoulder before sending him on his way up the city street.

Tall, carefully structured buildings stood on either side of the street. No doubt Terra was one of the busier cities in the four Lands, several young boys wrestled and horsed in the street and nearly ran head-on into his torso, barely avoiding the collision. In front of a house, two young girls sat on the stairs with rag dolls, fabric scraps for gowns and spun wool for hair. The girls gazed up at him as he passed, and he cast them a warm, friendly smile. Apples appeared in their cheeks, and they giggled to each other, leaning over and whispering incoherent secrets. 

Turning his gaze back to the street, he found himself in what must have been the Commons. Larger shops lined the outskirts of the large area, which was thronging with people. Curious eyes found his face as he passed, followed by more whispers. Some of the citizens found their courage.

“Fine cuts of game here, sir!” One called.

“Looking for a gift for a pretty lady?” A woman chirped nearby, and he cast a purposeful wink in her direction. The ornate, gold necklace she held in her hand was brought to her chest as she giggled at his flattery. 

“You won’t find better quality furs for ten leagues, sir!” Another merchant called, thrusting a rabbit skin in his face. Sputtering, he eased his way around the salesman and wormed through the Commons until he could make out the lettering of a steed-shaped sign. 

The Dancing Mare.

This was the inn recommended to him by the elder, and by the extraordinary young lady he’d met earlier. He cast his mind to the picture of her face, scrutinizing every detail of their meeting. Perhaps she would do. He would need to find out more; potentially problematic seeing as her father was particularly fierce. 

Brought back to the Commons by the cacoughany of busying people, he quickly escaped into the Dancing Mare. 

Unsurprisingly, the inn was much quieter than the Commons, but no doubt it would be just as raucous when night fell. The pungent smell of barley ale filled his nostrils and made his mouth water. A pretty, young maiden stood behind the tavern bar. Thin and blonde, she looked as though her arms might snap as she scrubbed at an ale stain on the wooden counter. 

“Morning, Miss.” Kael began conversationally, setting his pack on a wooden stool beside him and resting his forearm on the counter. Her eyes went wide as she took in his rugged appearance, and she cleared her throat several times before answering.

“Morning, Sir. What can I do for you?” She asked, clearing her throat again and putting on a nervous smile. 

“I’m in need of a bed.” He answered slowly, enunciating the words, and he could almost feel the heat which emenated from her face.

“’Course, we’ve got plenty of rooms available.” The maiden answered. “Ten Rai per night’s the rate.”

“Perfect.” Kael flashed his pearled teeth in a bright smile and the maiden took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. He casually turned his attention to his pack, rumaging around until his clasped his coinpurse. Counting out the coin, he turned his attention to the maiden. “Here’s for two weeks.” The maiden held out a trembling palm, and he made sure to brush her fingertips as he placed the coins in her hand, sniggering to himself at her attempts to keep her composure. 

“I’ll show you up, then.” She stuffed the coins into her apron pocket, coming around the counter. Indeed, she almost appeared sickly as Kael examined her full figure, hiding his thoughts behind a perfectly placed grin. She turned, prancing up the staircase of the inn with an awkward step that Kael found amusing as he followed her up the stairs and down a short corridor. She paused in front of a door, reaching again into her apron pocket.

“Here you are.” She pulled a small key out of the pocket, offering it to him with the same bony, trembling hand. 

“Thank you, Miss.” He gushed, taking her hand and lightly kissing her knuckle before accepting the key. She scurried away down the corridor and he watched as she disappeared down the stairs. 

Too easy. She wouldn’t do.

Turning the key in the lock, he showed himself into the simple accomadations that the Dancing Mare provided. A small bed sat in the corner, but the room was also adorned with some simple furniture: a wardrobe, a night table, and a larger table with a chair in the corner opposite of the bed. Shedding his pack on the bed, he sighed in relief, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. A glint of light caught his eye and he noticed a looking glass beside the wardrobe. 

Smirking to himself, he unlatched the belts and notches holding his studded armor in place, letting his skin breath in the fresh air. He was covered in shiny perspiration, and he pulled a rag from his pack, drying himself, then reached back into his pack and pulled out a plain, dark red tunic. Tugging it on quickly, he left the room, not bothering to lock the door. These were sensible people no doubt, and if anyone should attempt to steal from him, well…

He mentally dared someone to try.

Jaunting down the stairs, he met the blonde maiden’s gaze. Apples returned to her cheeks and she looked away, back to her work. In an attempt to keep from rolling his eyes, he approached.

“I never got your name, milady.” He began conversationally, looking down on her. She smiled flirtatioiusly.

“Irena.” She answered quietly. Kael dipped his head respectfully, keeping his gaze on her as he walked towards the door until he turned to go out. 

Now he let his eyes roll. Only slightly; many eyes turned to look at him as he progressed through the Commons. To the Northwest, the Governor’s house stood, noble and staunch. Clay roof slates angled to the top bough of the roof, and each corner was adorned with a flag bearing the Governor’s Crest. Kael’s fists clenched for a moment. There was a time when those flags would have borne the crest of the High King, but no citizen held any loyalty to him, nor any respect for the throne. 

Subconsciously, his feet began carrying him towards the large structure. He bounded lightly up the steps to the huge, ornate door, pushing cautiously and the doors swung simultaneously inward. Heads turned, eyeing the intruder as he closed the doors behind him. 

A tall, wiry man approached him first. 

“Who might you be, sir?” The wiry man asked, his dusty blonde mustache frolicking on his upper lip as he spoke.

“I am Kael, of Eastland.” Kael bowed reverently, and the wiry man cocked his head to one side. Looking behind him, as if for approval, another man stood.

“What is your business?” The second man had a deep, rough voice. He could have been a veteran of war. Observing the crested amulet around the second man’s neck, Kael deduced this must be the Governor. 

“I am a traveler, seeking work, and a new home.” 

“I have no work at present, but I admire your initiative in seeking me out, Kael of Eastland.” The Governor answered, turning back to his courtiers.

“My Lord, with all due respect, I have information which could prove exceedingly useful in your court.” Kael countered, watching expectantly as the Governor’s gaze turned back to him.

“Information?” 

“Yes, m’Lord.” 

The Governor folded his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“I come from Morose.” Kael relished in the panicked expressions which spread around the room at his utterance of the name. Several courtiers stepped back, as if avoiding a disease. 

“What information could you give us that would prove useful?” The Governor found his voice, posturing himself upright again.

“That, m’Lord, is for your ears only. And I must insist that it comes with a price.”

“A silver-tongue, then? Be gone with you, I have no use for you here.” The Governor scoffed. Heavily armored guards approached Kael, who stepped back.

Everything was working perfectly.

“Wait, m’Lord, I mean no offense. I’ve come here only with what I carry on my back. I have no practiced skills other than hard labor and information I learned while in Morose. Surely you can’t expect me to give you invaluable information with no thought of compensation?” He argued, mesmerizing the courtiers with the smoothness of his words and melodiousness of his voice. The Governor himself seemed tranced for a moment before gathering his wits. 

“I suppose you may have a point.” The Governor finally said, and Kael heaved a well rehearsed sigh of relief. “But I have no time at the moment. Come see me tonight, son, and we’ll discuss this information you have.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Kael bowed again, and the guards he stood betwixt relaxed their weapons. Fluidly, he turned, letting himself back out the excessively large double doors. 

The sun was terribly hot, and he decided to explore the remnant of the city. Small houses, much like the house the smithy and his daughter lived in, cluttered the landscape, occasionally interrupted by shops, large gardens, and another building which caught his fancy. Making his way through the Commons, he entered the strange building, stunned by the thick silence which occupied the space. 

“Have you come to pray?” A voice asked quietly, and Kael’s attention turned to an elderly woman adorned in a long, hooded habit. 

“I’m not much of a praying man, but I am curious.” He lied, not about his lack of prayer, but about his curiosity. The woman smirked kindly.

“Allow me to introduce you.” She beckoned for him to follow, leading him to the front of the sanctuary where five pedestals stood. Kael examined each one, the first pedestal bearing a fire which licked the edges of the oil bowl which fueled the flames. The second held a basin of clear water; the third, a pot bearing a small tree; fourth, a weather vane; fifth, a strange, lumpy stone that Kael could only assume was a star drop. 

Behind all the shrines several paces was a stone effigy, an enormous spectacle of a woman. Her face was kind, smiling, and her arms outstretched as if to offer an embrace, and as they approached, Kael noticed that all of the pedestals fit perfectly between her hands, creating the illusion that she was holding the shrines. The priestess led him to the first pedestal bearing the star drop.

“This is the Shrine of Cosmaer, the Father of Cosmos. His presence and worship is meant to draw wonder from the skies and humility at its grandeur.” The priestess spoke with reverence as she stepped aside, to the next pedestal. The weather vane.

“This is Bryztaer, Father of Air. His worship instills a desire to follow where he leads, and to see the good in all, whether he leads you through storm or sunshine.”

Kael rolled his eyes to himself. The priestess stepped aside again, revealing the tree.

“This is Montael, Father of Earth. His worship roots a deep understanding in our souls of our place on the Earth, and our responsibility to care for it.” Her introductions were shortening as she continued along the shrines.

“Selor, Father of Water and Seas. His worship quenches the parched soul and calms the troubled mind.” Kael nodded briefly, appearing interested.

“And Pyronus, Father of Fire. Worship here and you receive strength, bravery, and great capacity to bring warmth to those around you.” 

Unless you’re my brother, who happens to be Pyronus’ first-born. Kael scoffed to himself. The priestess continued on, rounding the back of the shrines to stand in the gaze of the enormous, stone woman.

“And Etheri, Mother of Life. To worship her is to worship all, but also to give reverence in that she gave life to the Earth, to Elimnar. The soul is her moulding clay, and life is her gift.” Kael noted a small altar where one would kneel to pray. His curiosity piqued, and he decided to ask a question.

“Weren’t there seven gods, not six?” He asked, and the priestess became visibly uncomfortable, though she masked it well.

“No, dear. There were only ever six.” She reiterated. “To leave one out of the temple would be a slander most vile.” 

“Ah.” Kael acknowledged. 

“Should you wish to pray only to one of the Fathers, you need only approach the appropriate shrine; should you wish to pray to all, go to the altar before the Mother.” The priestess continued on as if his question was never asked.

“The gods don’t get jealous of one another if one is prayed to more than the rest?” He asked, continuing his attempt to chip at her faith. Her countenance grew uneasy again.

“No, their knowledge is perfect, unlike ours. They understand the need for one another’s guidance in the lives of their Offspring, and feel no envy or hate one to another. A person may pray faithfully to Selor for a time, seeking peace, but when his soul has found its respite, he may pray to Bryztaer, or Pyronus. There is no harm in this, the gods understand our hearts more than we understand them ourselves.” 

Such ignorance. Kael scoffed to himself again, remembering the lesson many times pounded into his own head from his brother.

...The gods are selfish, irresponsible, and will destroy any who disagrees with their small-minded religions and customs. Never forget, Brother... 

His brother had not always held to a firm disbelief in the benevolence of the gods, but something once happened to him, and he grew bitter. Kael had watched this transformation with a slight satisfaction, knowing his brother would now know the engulfing misery which primarily occupied Kael’s soul. 

“Thank you for introducing me.” Kael bowed lightly, taking leave of the priestess to get out of the annoyingly quiet temple and back out to the bustling crowds of the Commons. 

He was startled to find that the Commons had cleared immensely, although there were still plenty of townsfolk wandering hither and thither. Merchants had resigned themselves to the shade of their shop carts and stalls. Bored, Kael took half a step to return to the Dancing Mare, when a figure caught his attention. 

Dark, long hair billowed down her femininely strong frame, a striking contrast to the fairness of her skin and the greying blue of her eyes. He had nearly missed her eyes, for she kept her gaze directly on the ground before her as she walked briskly back to her own shop cart. 

The girl from this morning.

Warily, Kael watched for her father, the smithy, knowing that any sign of him would surely mean short conversation. When Ronan appeared nowhere, Kael snickered to himself, delighted by the happenstance of seeing her again so soon, and he approached.