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Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #1155006
Peace marks the end of war; it does not mark the end of trouble.
#486907 added February 25, 2007 at 12:57am
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Guests
Despite the adventures she had in her younger years, Cat could not have anticipated what had happened earlier that evening. She certainly never thought she would meet such unusual people, but, to be fair, she did not think that anyone else would either.

Combustion, the only one of the trio she recognised, was trying to explain what had happened less than an hour before, but little of what he said was sinking in. Her ears—and eyes—continually wandered to the other two travellers.

Sara Mageborn squatted on the floor, playing with the marbles a kind soldier had given to her. Occasionally, a marble would roll away and the child would duck underneath a wooden bench to retrieve it. Cat was amazed that such a young girl could have survived three dragons and helped thwart a mob. Maybe Sara would grow up to be just like her mother, Flame—

"Cat!"

"Huh?" Cat blushed, aware that he had caught her out. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"I said, 'How could Image and the Midlands Easterners take you by surprise?'"

Combustion still had the ability to make mages far older and more experienced than him feel like amateurs. She shifted in her seat. "I suppose I should have suspected something when cats started to disappear from nearby towns, but the locals said a disease was killing off the feline population and I believed them."

"You did not suspect that they were trying to kill you? That they knew your favourite form is that of a cat?"

"No."

No wonder Combustion looked irritated. She was a fool to have trusted them.

"You used to be a spy,” he insisted. “Were you not sent here to monitor them?"

"Goodness, no!” she exclaimed. “The Great Mage wanted me to come as an ambassador and gain the locals' trust. It seemed that we were succeeding, so why would I provoke them by sneaking around their streets?"

Combustion rolled his eyes. "That’s the type of naïve thinking I would expect from someone else I know. Well, Midlands should be peaceful for a while, now that they've lost their advantage and their leader, but don’t let your guard down again."

Cat, relieved that the fire mage had not flown into a rage, nodded. "We will watch them carefully. And maybe I should improve my skills, so I could imitate other animals more convincingly. I cannot afford to be lazy about it now."

"You never could," Combustion grunted. He stood and picked up his empty mug. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to speak to your captain about certain provisions."

"They will include an escort," she warned. She knew Combustion preferred to travel with as few people as possible, but since an argument was inevitable, she preferred to deal with it sooner rather than later.

He frowned. "I can handle the prisoner and the child on my own.”

"Oh, I agree," she said placatingly. "The captain is not the type to take chances though, and the area between here and Angalas is filled with bandits."

Combustion had already turned his back to her, but he paused. "More trouble from the Eastern mages?"

"They are only Eastern soldiers. Too fearful or stubborn to go home, they've fled to the countryside and they make their living through robbery. Their favourite targets are Westerners."

To her surprise, he surrendered with only a shrug and a nod. He was the type of man who practically threw a tantrum whenever someone disturbed his solitude, she thought. Sure, he had taken Sara in, but the girl had been in peril. This situation was much less dire. What had happened to him since they last met?

"In that case,” he said, sitting down beside her, “I need a favour."

It wasn't like him to ask for favours either, but she hid her puzzlement. "Of course.”

"What I need is…" He glanced at the few remaining people in the mess hall and then lowered his voice. "…is discretion. Just outside this fortress is a shy angel who wishes to reach Angalas without fanfare. He is a pain!" Combustion forced himself to calm down and continued. "Unfortunately, he has asked Seraph and I to escort him and both flight mages expect me to fulfill his request."

"An—" She swallowed the rest of her words and looked around apprehensively. To her relief, only Sara appeared to have noticed the outburst. The girl grinned at her before resuming her game.

"Are you sure?" she asked quietly. "He could be a form mage in disguise."

"I cannot be certain. He never flies but, according to legend, Nahum did not fly either and, in every other aspect, Caleb—as he calls himself—looks and behaves like an angel."

"My goodness! I should meet him next morning then. If he is another form mage, I might just recognize him from his facial traits. I'm sure you are right, though.”

She sighed happily. "You are so lucky to have such adventures and meet such interesting people! I never had this much excitement even when I worked as a spy—those were the days. Of course, now that I have my own husband and children to consider, I must seek safer postings. Family changes one's priorities so much!"

A pained, bitter expression passed over Combustion's face and he quickly turned to speak to Sara. Cat barely heard their exchange, so surprised was she by his reaction. He must yearn for companionship and children, she thought, even if he never mentions either of them.

"…is too tired to give you a flying lesson today. Summoning hundreds of ghosts would exhaust any spirit mage."

Cat glanced towards the silent, young mage sitting two tables away. Seraph certainly seemed worn out. He slumped in his seat, nursing a mug of tea and apparently oblivious to the guards who loomed over him. What an unusual boy, she thought, to have gained two forms of magic at such a young age. She had heard of a few mages who have developed powers from a second school, but this had always occurred late in their lives. This one was only a few years older than her oldest child. Even more amazingly, he had managed to harness and develop his spirit magic without help and without injuring himself. And then he used it against the Easterners he used to fight for. "So, which side will you eventually settle on, Seraph?" she whispered with a smile.

"Tomorrow then, Shoo-Shoo?"

"Yes," Combustion said with a barely audible sigh. "Now go to bed."

Cat waited until Sara had left before speaking. "Shoo-shoo, eh? That’s a new one."

He scowled at her.

"Don’t worry," she laughed. “I would not dare spread this name among the other mages. However!” Cat reached out and patted him on his hand. "Listen, Shuxue, you are handsome, intelligent, talented and still very young, so don't you fret about finding yourself a good wife. You will find her and until you do, enjoy your freedom and enjoy your adventures!"

From the way Combustion stared at her, she might as well have sprouted a second head. Cat chuckled as she picked up his empty mug. He would understand soon enough.

---

Seraph felt trouble almost before he saw it. He shivered and then saw birds spring from every bush beneath him.

"There’s too many of them,” Virtue said. “Drop the bombs and retreat!"

Seraph and the other mages obeyed. The bombs exploded, scattering blood, flesh and feathers in all directions. Birds that escaped the blasts—and there were many of them—were cut down with arrows and swords.

Just when the mages thought they were safe, more birds shot out from the trees below, while wolves emerged from the tall grass, growling. With no bombs and few arrows remaining, the mages had to retreat.

Suddenly, a gust of wind hurled them downward. Seraph lost his sense of balance and tumbled before managing to halt his fall. Not all were as quick to regain control. Most other mages stopped below him, with one being grabbed by the wolves and another hitting the ground.

The birds caught up, but instead of attacking directly, they flew over the mages and plunged as if they were bombs. Seraph evaded and slashed at them, but he knew he was being forced further downward. The wolves, he knew, waited below.

"This way!" a woman beside him yelled and she seized his wrist. A man grabbed his other hand, knocking aside Seraph’s dagger as he did so, and they pulled him through a cleared space between the animals. Seraph would have rejoiced, but his rescuers' icy grips made him shiver instead. He looked at them closely.

They were not flight mages!

Seraph tried to pull away. When that failed, he tried to kick the man, but his foot passed through him. Seraph gaped and both ghosts turned to face him.

"Don't worry, little brother," Perdita said. "Everything will be fine."


---

Seraph sat up in his bed, trembling. When he failed to recognize the room he slept in, he ran to the door and tried to pull it open.

It was locked. With a start, he remembered where he was: the Midlands fort. Perhaps out of gratitude, the captain had not had Seraph thrown into a cell, as Image was, but his room was locked.

And guarded. "Did you want something, Mage?" a soldier asked warily from outside the door.

"Ah…" Seraph felt very foolish now. "No. I apologize for disturbing you. I just woke up with no idea of where I was. I'll…return to bed." He didn't think he would be able to sleep again, but he saw no reason to bother anyone else. They needed their rest too.

He had not lain for very long when he heard a click at the door. It opened and someone entered, closing the door behind him.

"Shuxue?"

The fire mage blinked. "How did you—"

"Say your name correctly? The mage Cat questioned me earlier this evening and when I called you Shuzay—yes, I know I shouldn't have been using your birth name in front of strangers and I'm sorry—she told me how to pronounce it properly. You should have corrected me earlier."

In response, Combustion muttered at some length about a crazy mage and a new nickname, but he didn't seem annoyed with Seraph. Finally, the Furan sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "The guards outside told me that you attempted to escape. I find that difficult to believe, so what happened?"

"I had the strangest dream," he replied, "and then, I woke up in an unfamiliar place with nobody in sight. I panicked for a while."

"But you are fine now?"

Seraph hesitated. "I can't sleep while I have Perdita and Brian and that dream in my head. I'm sorry if I’m keeping you from your bed, but could I talk about them with you?"

Combustion tilted his head to one side and then the other, as if arguing with himself. Eventually, he sighed again and shrugged. "I can’t seem to sleep either. Tell me about your dream."

"Well, I have been dreaming of my past since the end of the war. Usually, they have been about past battles."

"And this one was unrelated?"

"No, it was about a horrid battle, when my fellow flight mages and I were ambushed while we were on a mission to obliterate another Western town. On that occasion, about half of us died before we finally hacked our way through; however, in this dream, something else happened."

Combustion looked perplexed. "You have strange dreams. Mine often takes no consideration of time, place or the rules of magic."

"Mine depict the past exactly as I remember them," Seraph insisted, "except for this one. In this dream, Perdita and Brian flew in and rescued me. They were both dead by then and neither could fly, but it seemed so real! You know much more than I do. Do you think they were trying to communicate with me?"

The fire mage considered that. "I don't know. You have been brooding over them all night, so perhaps your thoughts affected this dream."

Seraph's heart sank.

"On the other hand," Combustion added, "did they say anything of significance?"

"Just not to worry and that things will be all right. Is that significant enough?" he asked hopefully.

Combustion didn't answer. "And did Brian say this?"

"Those were Perdita's words," he said and he sighed. "Brian said nothing and he didn't quite look me in the eye either. He wasn’t like this while he was alive! Why is he acting this way now?"

"You know him better than I do," Combustion pointed out.

Seraph did not reply. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, as if the wooden boards would provide the answer. Of course, the fire mage was right. Combustion could hardly be expected to understand the behaviour of a stranger.

"And yet," Combustion said, "Brian may have hidden some things from you while he was alive.”

“Huh?”

“You see, you committed terrible acts during the war and you did not realize how wrong they were until Caleb, Sara and I forced you to see your actions the way we saw them. What Brian did may have been as bad or worse. You seem to idolize him, so perhaps he kept his bloodied hands out of your sight."

"No, I can't believe that!” Seraph exploded, almost leaping from his bed in anger. “I won't!"

He expected Combustion to yell back, but the fire mage just smiled sadly. "I understand, Hugh. He must have meant a lot to you."

An uneasy silence followed and Seraph felt a pang of guilt. Combustion was only trying to help, after all. "I…I've always remembered him as a funny, warm man, a peacemaker within the family," he said. "I saw less of him than of my other relatives after he joined the army though. He stayed there beyond the two compulsory years—six years, actually, until he died. Everyone saw him as a true patriot and I wanted to become as heroic as he was…"

And so he talked and talked. His friend mostly listened, interrupting only when he lost track of which relative Seraph was discussing or to voice sympathy. Before they knew it, the first hints of sunlight appeared in the narrow window of the room.

"Look behind you," Seraph exclaimed. "I must have kept you up for hours!"

Combustion stretched and yawned. "Don't worry. I need very little sleep. You, however, need to rest, since you have been suffering nightmares ever since we left Sukonig, if not before. I will tell Cat that you will be having a late breakfast."

"Thank you." Seraph looked closely at the fire mage and noted the shadows under his eyes. "You should have a late breakfast too."

"Fine." Combustion walked to the door and paused. "Sleep well, Hugh."

"You too, Shuxue."

Seraph allowed his head to sink back into his pillow. He felt so much better after talking to Combustion, even though he knew no more after the discussion than he did before. If what Perdita had said was true, perhaps the answers mattered little anyway. Sleep settled on the flight mage like a soft blanket and, for the first time in many days, he welcomed it.

---

"Shuzay!"

Cat grinned as Combustion turned and scowled. Her smile did not diminish as he took her firmly by the elbow and guided her into an empty corridor.

"You eavesdropped on our discussion," he said. It was not a question.

"Most of it," she admitted. "I was sitting on the ledge outside the window, in cat form. Seraph certainly is an interesting boy, not at all like most of the other Eastern mages. Have you heard what he called you?"

Combustion crossed his arms. "I am well aware of the various mispronunciations my name has attracted since I came to Sentralia," he said evenly. "I would appreciate it if you do not spread this one around either."

"And you call him Hugh."

The Furan gave her a questioning look and she suppressed a bubble of mirth before it could burst. "I think I was mistaken in assuming you are yearning for a wife. You already have a 'special someone' and I believe that person is Seraph. Am I right?"

Combustion's reaction was a sight to behold, even for a mage who knew him as well as she did. His jaw dropped and he paled before turning almost as red as his clothing. "W-what? What made you think—he's not even a friend!"

Cat could not hold back any longer. Her laughter, loud and fond and joyful, echoed down the corridors.

---

After a long search, Truth found Daylight in the damaged wing of the Great Mage's Palace, gazing out the window. She approached quietly, so as not to startle him.

"Sentralia looks beautiful at sunrise, Truth," he said.

Daylight had felt her approach again. "It does," she replied with the briefest glance at the scenery. "Is the Academy Massacre keeping you from your rest again?"

"No. I regret the tragedy, but I cannot allow it to weigh me down. Do you remember what the captive prophet mage called me?"

"How could anyone forget?" She moved beside him and, seeing his hand on the window sill, rested her hand on his. "We were both students in the Western Academy when he stared at you and called you Daylight. It sure changed our lives; it gave every Westerner hope."

Daylight gently removed his hand. "If only all the changes were for the better. When Ocean discovered the prophecy, he killed my father and siblings trying to do away with me and I had to avoid my mother lest I endanger her too.

"I know the hardship was worth it though. The prophecy has been fulfilled. I will rule Sentralia in the way Great Mage Daylight I would have governed it, had she not been driven from power. The Academy Massacre, the banditry in the countryside and all the other troubles since the end of the war will be seen as merely teething problems, Truth. One day, everyone will see the justice of our victory!"

"Truly?" she said with a small smile.

"I've no doubt about it. I have been praying to the angels and I know they will give a sign during the Angels Festival." He turned and gripped her hands. "Will you ensure that all Sentralians in Angalas attend the celebrations that day? They must witness the answer, the proof!"

"As you wish. Just don't get carried away, OK?" But as she looked at his face, she knew he would.

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