Magical connection

The Tumbler and the Fire Breather

Fiestra angrily poked a stray curly red hair back under her green bonnet and tried to turn her attention out the window of the coach to the City of Baggrim and not listen to her all to perfect sister, Fendalyn described the ball she attended the night before. Fendalyn continued to describe everything from the footmen that fell down when she stepped from the carriage to the color of the flowers in the center pieces that matched the queen’s eyes. Fiestra sat silently as the description continued, thinking she should be excited for her sister going to her first court as a lady. She also knew how honored she should be that the Queen, Aevaena, invited one of her family to sit at the head table but Fiestra did not feel honored. Fiestra looked back at her sister’s eyes and hair to see if they were as bright and sparkling blue as Lord Horvorch had said or as silky and golden as the young baron Zoth had said. Fiestra decided that they were right and hated all of them for it.
Rexxalt, Fiestra’s uncle the ambassador to Penthail from Baggrim, sat next to Fendalyn looking out the window looking like a rabbit that had been chased a long way and still thought he was being pursued. He looked scared and that made Fiestra angry at him. Fendalyn just then mentioned that she had liked dancing with Lorron, the queen’s jolly wizard, her uncle’s face showed with dread briefly before he looked out the window again. Fiestra needed him to be strong and protect her but he seemed to shrink every time the wizard’s name was mentioned. He was also trying to hide the fact that he was afraid of horses so she hated him for being afraid and showing it.
Fendalyn then mentioned the queen, Aevaena. She went on and on about how every man’s eye was drawn to her beauty. To Fiestra the queen sounded like a more mature vision of Fendalyn. She also mentioned, with some distast, how the men were equally wary of her skill with a sword. Fiestra hated the queen for her beauty and for her skill with her sword. Fiestra hated Aevaena for killing the imposter king, a monster magically masquerading as the king for years. She hated the queen for causing the unknown wizard to strike down her parents just when she needed them the most.
Fiestra remembered how her father always treated her like a little princess, not a little sister and how her mom would always patiently answer another one of her questions. Fiestra hated them for how much she loved them. She hated that they had royal blood that had made them targets for that evil wizard. She hated that they were not strong enough to beat the wizard or clever enough to avoid the trap the wizard set for them.
Then she hated herself. Fiestra saw her reflection in Fendalyn’s mirror and hated the curly red hair and freckles looking hatefully back at her. She hated her skinny figure that still fit in children’s clothes. She wanted to cry and hated herself for that too. She looked out the window searching for something else to hate.
They passed a huge stone home that looked like a fortress. No yard or trees just a stone walk leading to the massive oak doors bound in iron and bearing dwarfish letters. The walls were hung with colorful banners and topped with matching flags. There seemed to be a great deal of noise and merry making going on behind the walls. Music and singing from the house could be heard in the coach.
The partying got louder as they got closer. One of the great doors opened as the coach rolled by the house. A little boy with brown hair and a green suit bounded out of the door and leaped onto the passing coach. His blue eye showed triumph as he started to leap to the step of the coach. The boy went ridged mid-jump, crashed into the coach, dropped a rolled up piece of paper into Fiestra’s lap, then fell like a statue bouncing a couple of times before rocking to a stop on to the street.
The driver stopped the coach when the green clad boy had crashed into the door and then hurried over to see if the lad was all right. Rexxalt opened the coach’s door and stepped out walking carefully as if he thought the boy would bounce up again as suddenly as he had seemingly frozen. A fierce looking dwarf in shinny black robes stepped out of the dwarfish ambassadors house as he tucked something quickly into a deep pocket then hurried over squinting at the boy’s hands before he moved the coach driver away with one firm hand and emptying the boy’s pockets with the other.
Fiestra noticed the paper, a fine stock like her father used to use for official business, not the course paper she was used to in her history books and picked it up. Fiestra noticed the letters on the paper written with a strange ink that still looked wet and started studying them. The letters were like nothing she had ever seen before in her life, which was something considering how much she read, and had a beautiful glow about them. She unrolled the paper reading it quietly to herself. As she read the glow swirled away from the paper and the letters disappeared. Fiestra finished reading the paper, still not sure what it meant or how she could read it, she looked up to see Fendalyn close her eyes and slump against the window fast asleep.
The dwarf looked straight from Fendalyn to Fiestra and she shrank back into the coach. No sooner had she started to look for a place to hide the paper than the dwarf snatched it out of her startled fingers. His strange piercing eye flashed from the paper to Fendalyn, back to Fiestra and then to the front door of the ambassador’s house just as the dwarfish ambassador stepped out of the door. He patted Fendalyn firmly on the back of her hand and she woke up in a daze.
The ambassador’s looked around, keen dark eyes sizing up the situation. He wore a red coat embroidered with silver, a wide leather belt with silver studs and set with red stones, a pair of green pants that matched the coat, and knee high boots that matched his belt. He stood with a commanding stance as he looked down at the boy and then to the dwarf leaning in the coach. “Gryister would you please explain what is going on here.”
The dwarf in the black robes stepped down from the coach and bowed slightly to the ambassador. “My lord Draith I believe the halfing { Gryister nodded at the unmoving, green clad boy.} has some explain to do. I would suggest inviting him in.
Draith pointed at some dwarves inside and said. “Bring him in and don’t let him get away again.”
“Yes ambassador.” Replied a couple of thick limbed dwarves who came out and pick up the boy as if he were a piece of furniture and carried him inside.
Rexxalt, who had seemed overwhelmed by the strange events, recovered and shook himself. “I say what is going on here?”
Gryister bowed deeply to Rexxalt as he answered. “Dear sir you are concerned I can see but I can assure you we are not associated with the halfling that caused this up roar. I would humbly request that you come inside so that you may recover from the shock of today’s events and we may discuss what effect they may have on our future.”
Fendalyn blushed but still looked like she had no idea what was going on. Gryister looked at Draith and subtlety jerked his head at Fiestra.
Draith’s face broke into a jolly smile and he walked over to Rexxalt and shook his hand firmly. “You must join the party. We are celebrating. Come. Come.”
Rexxalt may have thought to resist at first and actually looked like he would protest then a gentle pat on the shoulder and a soft word by Gryister seemed to ease his mind.
Rexxalt turned to his nieces his face relaxed for the first time in days. “Come with me Ladies.” He allowed Draith to lead him into the fortress-like house. Fiestra followed her sister out of the coach as Gryister offered his hand to them as they did. Fendalyn seemed dazed still as she got out and looked around. Fiestra noticed that the offered hand seemed nothing like a dwarfish hand, not thick or course. Her mind was eased by his smile as he gently guided them after their uncle and the ambassador.

Two dwarves carrying more beer barrels for the party paused at a door wondering what way to turn him so that they could get him through the door when Draith walked past, leading the uncle and his nieces.
“They don’t stand a chance.” Said the older with a knowing smile.
“Oh ? What do you mean?” asked the other.
The older smiled and leaned closer as he watched the group pass by. “How long have you been here?”
“A couple weeks.” Admitted the younger dwarf.
The older puffed up importantly as he went on. “ I have been here a little longer. I few years longer. I have seen it before.”
“Ambassador …” began the younger dwarf doubtfully.
“No.” Interrupted the first “Mind you I would be a bit nervous to tell him anything but what he wanted to hear. If the half the stories about the battles he has been in are true. But is Gryister that they are up against for sure.”
“Gryister? What do you mean?” The younger was eating the story up.
The older smiled and rocked on the balls of his feet as he went on. “Draith has fought giants, ogres, and worse for years. He helped kill the imposter king and put Aevaena on the throne of Penthail. No one survives his enchanted fork when he gets going.”
“Yes?!” the younger dwarf’s eyes were bulging. “But what about Gryister?”
The older dwarf stole a look around the dim stone walls before going on in a whisper. ”Gryister is a wizard.”
The younger dwarf had hear rumors but he was still astonished to hear it said.
The older dwarf nodded knowingly. “Oh yes. Mighty strange for a dwarf to be a mage. Wrong if you ask me. Always locking himself in his rooms. Funny sounds and smells. But when ever he wants something from some one he gets it. What don’t matter. He always gets it. ALWAYS. Who don’t matter either. No matter what the objection Gryister always makes them see that it is in their best interest to give him what he wants.”
“What does he want?” asked the younger dwarf looking the direction Gryister had gone.
“Hard to say. No one knows what goes on inside his head. But they will do what he wants. I will bet the mine on that!”

The dwarves had lead them up into the top of the ambassador’s large stone house to a room with tall windows with etched glass in the window pains, a balcony with a view of Baggrim, and plenty of sturdy iron chairs with thick cushions. Everything seemed to be very hazy and move very slowly. Rexxalt took a chair that Gryister offered him as Draith strode proudly around the room.
“Ambassador Rexxalt. May I call you Rexxalt? I am sure that you are most concerned with the welfare of your nieces. The recent tragic murder of your brother and his wife must be still burn at your soul, but I ask you to consider this. Gryister is a wizard of considerable talent and reputation. He judges that Fiestra would be an excellent apprentice for him and is willing to take her on as such.” Draith said.
Fiestra gawked as Draith mentioned her as an apprentice wizard. She looked quickly to Gryister who was looking, no staring, at her intently. Fiestra couldn’t think straight. She was too young, Fendalyn was the one in her family that was destined for greatness and no one had ever thought of her as smart. Then the possibility of discovering who was responsible for the death of her parents played a crossed her mind and she smiled. She gave her smile a pleading quality as she locked eyes with her uncle.
Rexxalt drew himself up, his face taking on a commanding air. Fiestra found herself quite taken aback by the sudden and almost complete change in her uncle. The anger towards him drained out of her. “Fiestra is of the royal house of Tuth. She will not be shipped about casually.”
Fiestra’s heart sank and the anger flashed back into her.
“Yes of course your Grace.” Said Draith as he leaned casually against his desk. “That is what makes this doubly important.”
“Doubly?” asked Rexxalt.
“Yes. First we will shoulder the cost of Fiestra’s lodging, board, and education.” Draith said pleasantly as he motioned to Gryister. Gryister nodded affirmatively at education.
“Secondly, and more importantly, she is royalty from Tuth. I am the ambassador form Gravden. Together we will be able to repair the rift between these two great cities. I will ask for access for dwarves through the gates of Tuth and I will make the docks of Gravden accessible to ships from Tuth starting…” Draith paused and looked to Gryister.
“Today” finished Gryister.
“Starting today.” Confirmed Draith smugly.
Rexxalt looked impressed but Fiestra was sure he was trying to hide it. “That is very generous of you. I would ask for personal assurances from you concerning Fiestra’s well being.”
“Uncle! You treat me like a child.” Fumed Fiestra.
“My lady.” Smiled Draith as he bowed to her “He is quite correct in asking for assurance of your well being. What assurances would you require? If you require lodging here with her it is yours.”
“I will adopt her.” Said Gryister firmly.
“What?” gasped Rexxalt at the same time as several others, and the rest thought it.
“It is the only way we can do this. It is only proper.” Said Gryister. “I do not want any doubt about my intentions towards the lady. I intend to pass on my knowledge to someone capable of grasping the whole of it and adding to it. Fiestra is that person I know it.”
All eyes were on Rexxalt. Draith just seemed irritated that he was not the center of attention. Fendalyn was trying to appear calm but more than a little fear was in her eyes. Gryister was strangely calm and unreadable, not even blinking. Fiestra had found her calling and was letteing her pleading expressions take over her face. Rexxalt thoughtfully touched his chin seemingly unaware of the passing of several moments as he thought about what had just been offered and what to do next.
“You will take care of like your own daughter?” Rexxalt like he was demanding as much as he was asking.
Fiestra never thought she had ever felt this happy. Rexxalt would allow it she could tell.
Gryister answered in the same unreadable tone that his face held. “Yes.”