Chapter Nine: The Longwalker and the Magi

Leogun meets two new people, Pychi the Longwalker and Taisa the magi.

Leogun pushed open the Guardsman’s door. Alaire followed close behind, and they exchanged casual conversation about the show they’d seen. The festival season brought in entertainers of all sorts, and Alaire had brought the monk to see a favorite of hers, a young mageborn who made great shows with his fire, making the fake spirits dance. She said they reminded her of a golem her father had taken her to see back in Ntir.
Falyn sat at a table with a daronu, laughing at some joke the short man had made. They both had half-drained mugs of ale in front of them, and took a quick swig of his own drink. The daronu wore a leather jerkin and a pair of vambraces on his muscled arms, and he had a thick, bushy beard that could’ve put Asmund to shame. Leogun and Alaire sat down beside the selae, and Falyn gestured to his drinking partner.
“This is Pychi Gernach, the famous Longwalker of Velar,” he explained. “Or should I say infamous?” He said with a devilish smile. Pychi inclined his head in an act of respect, and Leogun shook his hand.
“Depends on who you ask. Back home, I wouldn’t doubt that I’ve got a bit of a bad name, but around these parts I’d say that a daronu away from a library is a bit of a novelty.” Leogun chuckled.
“Yes, I’ve heard of you, I think. The first one to leave Velar in what, a decade? Two?” Pychi shrugged and took a drink, ordering another round for all gathered.
“A good while at least. My own father didn’t see me off, too busy researching something like the effects of erosion on the Daronan Mountains. Anyways, Falyn, where was I? Right, right, the escape!” He smiled. “So there I was: at least twelve of the Royal Guard at my back, my wrists chained together, and the city gates coming up fast. I ducked around the corner- seemingly enough to confuse the dolts Sagah hires to protect him- and managed to find a dashing lass, a smith’s daughter, to smash the cuffs. I escaped out the side gate half an hour later.” He grinned widely. “Of course they caught me ten minutes after that, but how I escaped that one I’d rather not say.” Falyn laughed.
“So you bought your way out, then?” Pychi nodded slightly, earning a small smile from Alaire. “Alaire, here, is Ntirian, actually,” Falyn continued. “I met her in the Royal City itself. There was a matter of a debt between her and Sagah, and I managed to intervene when she was attacked by a few of Sagah’s thugs tried to collect. Anyways, the ‘Great and High Lord Sagah’ didn’t let up, finally calling her to his presence personally. What’d he say, Alaire?” Falyn asked. Alaire swaggered for a moment, presumably to affect the appearance of the Great and High Lord himself.
“‘Madam Delais,’ he said, ‘I believe you had a rendezvous with one of my men, one Koeh the Bear.’ He had such an arrogant look, it was almost impossible to stop myself from laughing! Of course, that wouldn’t have gone well.” Her face darkened for a moment. “I’d probably lose my head, and I don’t mean that poetically.” Leogun gulped. It seemed that at least some of what he’d heard of the Walled Nation was true. “Anyways, Falyn got me away in time, but not before he put his sword in Sagah’s shoulder, and we rode all the way from the city to the border. Despite what you’ve probably heard, it’s not actually walled off. It’s an enormous country, at least as big as one of Brym’s provinces.” She shrugged. “Obviously. It was one, at some point.”
“I believe Sagah the First seceded from Brym in the year 138.” Leogun said. He blinked. I don’t know that. I’ve never read about that. Why do I know that? The calendar was usually based around the year of Brym’s founding. Next to nothing was known before that, likely due to atrocious record keeping.
Pychi whistled softly, eyes wide. “I can’t say I’ve ever met someone who had the privilege to run the High B*****d through, and I doubt many others have. Aside from people who’ve met you, Aenda.” Falyn bowed in his chair, half humble and half cocksure.
“Do go on.” The selae said, slinging his hide boots up onto the wooden table.

Leogun walked the halls of the Arkaien Library. It was nice being back in a library. There weren’t many in Gammesia, really, mostly just in the great cities. The Arkaien Library was famed to be second only to the Archmage’s Library in Seridel.
He scanned the books slowly, trying to find one he was looking for. Over his travels he’d heard that a copy of Saint Kori’s memoirs was here in the library, but he’d yet to find one. It wasn’t arranged anything like the one in the Monastery, following some numerical system rather than an alphabetical one, and the code was nonsense to him.
“Looking for something?” A woman asked. He turned to see a woman with dark skin- evidently a Brymian woman- and short-cropped speckled blonde hair. She, too, was scanning the books. “Other than books, of course. Something in particular.” Leogun nodded.
“Do you work here?” He asked. She shook her head, pulling a thick tome labelled The Tower of God. She placed it on top of a seemingly growing pile of books in her arms.
“No, but I’ve spent enough time here that I might as well. What are you looking for?” She spoke impeccable New Skadi, without a twinge of an accent. Leogun wondered why she’d defaulted to it before remembering his distinctive robe.
“I’m looking for one of Kori’s memoirs. Saint Kori.” He said. She laughed briefly, cutting herself short as she saw the confused look on his face. She laughed again, likely one at his expense.
“Seriously?” Leogun indicated as such, and she laughed yet again. He ground his teeth together.
“Is there something wrong with that?” He asked.
“Well you’re looking in the completely wrong section. This is the architectural section, not the historical. You’re looking for section 1.” She pointed to the sign at the banner at the end of the aisle of shelves. It was marked with a 16. “Come on, I’ll take you to it.” Leogun thanked her and walked beside her. She was taller than Alaire at least, standing up to his nose. Suddenly, the woman stopped.
“Do you hear that?” she asked. Leogun strained. “The... the music.” He shook his head. “Whatever. I’m Taisa, by the way. A magi.” Leogun smiled.
“A magi? Really?” She nodded.
“The real thing.” She reached into the folds of her beige robes, pulling a blue ring from it. “A Stormfire, too.” She winked. “So don’t try to convert me, Northerner.” Leogun laughed as he pulled Kori’s book from the shelf.
“I prefer my skin unburned, despite what my hand might lead you to think.” He raised his right hand slightly, pulling back his sleeve to reveal the bandages. No matter what he tried, the skin seemed to never heal, even if it usually didn’t hurt. “Thank you.” He said, bowing. She returned the bow.
“I’ve got to go. If you need me, I’m staying at the Brymian Embassy. Call for Taisa of Kyre.” She said.
“And if you need me, look for the tavern with the broken window and call for Leogun Asmundvard.”