Caster's Quest

Running through the forest of Kendu, Aisling found herself winded and thus stopped by the banks of a small stream.
There was a large group of water sprites dancing and playing across the rippling surface. They were playing a simple game of hopping onto and riding the golden leaves of autumn that fell into the stream. They were egging each other on to new heights of daring.
'Silly sprites. The leaves were like large rafts for the little pests. I guess it doesn’t take much to make a sprite happy.'
Aisling walked further up stream to cross, so she wouldn’t disturb their game and incur their tricks. Sprites and their tricks could be really bothersome when they got stirred up. Aisling's rich green eyes darted and scanned the banks to be sure she had not been spied by the sprites.
Aisling was breathing deeply in an effort to catch her breath. The breeze rippling through the tops of the trees created another shower of the golden autumn leaves. The ground was quickly turning from rich green and brown to a vibrant gold from the leaves.
The breeze also carried with it the dry dusty smell of autumn and the impending chill of the night to come. It also carried the smell of something much farther away and much more sinister, smoke. Aisling returned to her running as the grim reminder of her errand renewed her sense of urgency.
The Queen and her council needed to know of the breech of the border lands by the Landowa. A terrible form of Fey with little magic and were exceedingly violent. They loved to burn things, anything and everything. They loved the smoke and destruction more than the battle itself.
Aisling wasn’t far from the Royal City, but after running since dawn, her muscles were played out. She was not a Runner, she was an Apprentice Caster. She was the first of her line to bear the mark of a Caster. She had not yet learned the spells for translocation and was only able to project her thoughts more than a mile or so at the most.
It was a shame that her Master had been one of the first to fall in this morning’s surprise attack on the outpost they had been stationed.
The commander had ordered her to take word of the crisis back to the Queen. Aisling had only managed to make it a mile from the outpost when she found herself ambushed by enemy scouts. She had managed to cast a confusion spell during her struggle with the three men and had managed a narrow escape. The cuts and scratches were a constant stinging reminder of her altercation, as her sweat ran into them. The memory of their coarse voices and hands gave her the final spurt of energy needed to top the final hill before the Royal City.
There nestled in the broad valley below her was the gleaming pink city of her birth and in the precise center, towering above even the trees was the Palace.
Aisling stumbled down the hill, heading for the closest entry into the city. As she approached a guard came forward.
“Aisling, what are you doing here?” Demanded the guard, who also happened to be her brother Cellon.
“Cel…I need to see the Queen.” Aisling gasped as she tripped and fell into his arms.
“What? Why? What’s happened……and why are you bleeding?” He demanded, completely ignoring her request.
“There has been an attack. Please I have to see the Queen!” She pleaded as she regained her footing.
“Attack! Where? By whom?” Cellon asked, the excitement of action making his green eyes glitter dangerously. He pushed the gleaming metal helm back into place over his cinnamon brown curls.
“Oh Cel you’re useless.” Aisling scolded as she pushed away from him and headed for the arched entry into the city.
“Hey now! Aisling get……” Cellon called after her but was cut off from the look his commander shot him as he approached Aisling and took her arm. Cellon pressed his lips together and returned to his post guarding the windlass for the gates.

“Aisling, come with me we’ll use the tunnels to get you to the palace” Commander Zeran stated to her in a calm low voice as he steered her towards the guard tower.
She stumbled along in a tired daze as Zeran led her down into the subterranean water ways that were used as a faster form of transportation by the guards.
He settled them both into a small carven boat and rapped the pommel of his dagger three times on the wooden prow. With a head rocking jerk the boat was speeding down the dimly lit passage and into the labyrinth of waterways below the city. The wind from their passage cooled Aisling’s heated face and dried the sweat on her brow.
It was a little known fact that the boats were propelled and controlled by enslaved water demons. Mischievous creatures bound by enchantments and forced to repay the debt of their former pranks and misdeeds in toil to the crown.
Zeran assisted Aisling out of the small craft when it came to rest against a small stone dock at the base of a winding stair. He had done this so many times in her youth that it was just like walking to them both. Zeran’s parents were away much of his youth in service to the crown. Aisling’s parents had offered to care for their friend’s son. So Zeran had grown up with Aisling and her brothers in the Royal City.
They emerged from the stairs into the hall leading to the Throne Room. The guards noted their approach and Aisling’s disheveled appearance and immediately opened the massive double doors allowing them to pass unchallenged.
The long room with its soaring arches was filled with the councilors and various court functionaries. At the far end of the vast room, resting on a dais, were the ancient thrones of the Kohani. Resplendent upon the right hand throne was the ethereally fair Queen. Her long black hair was held at bay by a circlet of gold with flower gems and leaves of silver adorning it. She was clad in the palest of gowns permitted by a woman other than a maiden or a bride. Her alabaster skin had a luster rivaled only by the icy blue of her large eyes.
A pompous man in crimson robes that clashed horribly with his blue tinged skin intercepted the pair approaching the throne.
“What business have you in the Royal presence? You certainly were not summoned or even properly prepared for a Royal audience.” His beady black eyes slid over Aisling’s battered and filthy form. Zeran intercepted the man’s hand as he reached for Aisling and directed such a flat glare that the man actually cringed from the guard.
Aisling strode forward until she was the accepted fifteen feet from the throne and sank to one knee and bowed her head before the Queen and waited. To speak directly to the royal person without their consent was a punishable offense, prison being the most lenient of punishments.
Aisling felt the tingling sensation of the Queens penetrating scrutiny as she examined the kneeling young woman before her.
“Aisling Comanshir. Why have you appeared before me outside of the presence of your bound Master?” asked the Queen in her soft even tones.
“My Queen.” Aisling began, “My master is now in the nether lands. I have been sent as a messenger by Commander Genad. He wishes to inform you of the breach of the borderlands by the Landowa.”
A loud outburst of voices in the room responded to her dire announcement. All were quieted by the simple raised hand of the Queen.
“Rise child and tell me what has happened.” The Queen commanded still calm and quiet.
“Yes your highness” Aisling replied as she struggled to rise. Her muscles were not responding to her commands well at all. A strong hand pulled her upright and immediately released her arm as soon as she had found her balance. Aisling drew a deep breath and strength from the strong aura and scent of Zeran close behind her.
“This morning at Dawn a large host of Landowa attacked the Gilganni outpost. My master fell among many in the first volleys of arrows from the enemy. The guards sent me down from the walls to return with extra arrows for the archers. I was gathering these items when Commander Genad sent for me. We had experienced heavy casualties and our magic was hindered by a dampening spell. The Commander ordered me to carry this news to you with all haste.”
“You were injured in your escape from the compound?” She asked as she indicated the torn and bleeding places on Aisling’s body.
“No, your highness. I was ambushed about a mile from the outpost by enemy scouts.” Aisling replied her shaking hands smoothed the front of her soiled and torn tunic.
The Queen’s brows rose almost disappearing under her crown, “Your attackers are all dead then?” Surprise rippling through her voice.
“One is. Another may be by now. The third is wandering in madness for another few days yet.”
“How is this?” asked the Queen.
“The first fell by my hand. I was casting a madness spell and inadvertently released it through my dagger and the second man fell on my dagger as it was released directly at him. I was still climbing from under the second man as the third fled screaming and tearing at his eyes.” Aisling was beginning to sway on her feet.
“How did you manage to arrive here so quickly? You do not have the markings of transportation upon you.”
“I ran your highness. The urgency of the news demanded my utmost efforts.”
The Queen held Aisling’s gaze until fatigue overcame the young woman and she collapsed. Zeran stepped forward and easily caught her lean form in his arms. He hefted her up and stood waiting for the Queen’s dismissal.
The Queen closed her eyes briefly and then leveled her blue gaze at Zeran before saying.
“Commander Jenda, take her to the healers. Guard well our brave child. When she is well take her to her parents. She will await orders from me in with her own kin.”
Zeran bowed his head briefly and turned carrying his burden out of the now chaotic throne room.
Word had reached the healers before Zeran had reached their ward. A tall, lean sallow skinned master came out of the ward and greeted Zeran as his apprentices relieved Zeran of his still unconscious burden.
When the healer would have dismissed Zeran he said.
“The Queen has charged me to watch over Aisling until she is healed and I deliver her to her parents.” Zeran’s expression and tone brooked no argument from the aging healer.
Zeran stood as a statue averting his eyes from his young friend’s wounds while the healers worked on her. All proceeded normally, except the master healer kept muttering to himself more and more determinedly before finally exclaiming,
“I don’t believe it! You there, Zeran. She grew up with you correct?”
Zeran blinked a couple of times before replying, “Yes I was raised among her household.”
“Have you ever noticed anything unusual about her? Any odd behavior?” the healer asked.
“No she was always a vigorous child. A cherished treasure of her father and brothers.”
“Was she never sickly or weak?” The old man’s golden eyes narrowing.
Zeran shrugged and said, “She was never ill that I am aware of. She was always able to keep up with all of us when playing or exploring. Why?”
“It never struck any of you that it was a little odd that a child much younger than yourselves was able to keep up with older children, not lagging behind or being worn out early?”
“We never thought about it.” Zeran stated, still not seeing the point.
“Has it occurred to you that this young woman has run over eighty miles this day, after fighting off attackers? Is this not a little extreme for a fey?”
Zeran looked closely at Aisling and then back at the slightly stooped healer while he considered the man’s question. “I guess it is unusual.”
“No wonder her fey magic is so dangerously low.”
“What are you talking about?” Asked Zeran completely at sea.
The healer sat on a small stool and crossed his arms over his chest, his brows almost meeting over his nose in there deep furrow. He took a deep breath and began.
“Each of us has a certain amount of fey magic in us. It is what makes us who and what we are. It is the source of our individual talents. We utilize this for our common spells that all can perform. It allows our command of the world and its elements.”
“Okay, you said hers was dangerously low. But she is a Caster…”
“It is low Zeran. She has somehow used her own magic to supply her body with the energy it needed to get here. Were she less than a Caster she would be in the nether lands now. Look at these wounds, she should have bled out from any of these wounds, she even managed to use her magic to slow down the bleeding of her wounds. She should be in the nether lands, but she isn’t.” The healer returned to the contemplation of Aisling.
“So what is going to happen to her now?” Zeran asked quietly fearing the response.
The old man shook his head and replied. “I know not. She is most unique and I must consult the archives.”
“When can I take her to her parents?” Zeran asked, needing action and a direction of purpose to restore his mental balance.
“She will need to spend some time in the sacred pools to replenish her magic, it could take a while.” The golden eyes meeting the deep brown, a shared moment of fear and wonder.
*****

Aisling woke slowly and reluctantly. It was difficult to emerge from the tremendous peace of her slumber, but she knew that she must wake; there was much that needed to be done.
She felt strong arms and was a little surprised to sense the aura and scent of Zeran still with her.
“Easy Ase. I am with you” Zeran’s soft deep voice whispered in her ear.
She nodded and opened her eyes. She observed that they were in the sacred pools beneath the temple of Ishan.
“Zeran, why are we in the sacred pools?”
“The healer wished it for your recovery. He had others to tend so he left you in my care.” Zeran’s voice was calm but something had shaken him deeply.
“I think I am better now.” Aisling stated and leaned forward out of his embrace. She was moving cautiously, some of her wounds were still sore.
“The healer said that you have another hour here, and then he will examine you. If all is mended I will be able to take you to your parents” Zeran stated as he watched her move away into the shimmering pool.
She nodded and began to unwind her long crimson hair from the intricate knot on top of her head. Her hair quickly flared out floating in the water. She looked like a pale flame dancing on the water in the dimly lit cavern with its black stone walls.
Zeran had discovered an uncomfortable fact while she had rested in his arms. She was mature now, young yes but fully mature. He had not seen her in several years, between his assignments and her apprenticeship it had been a long time between meetings.
He was now forced to face some complicated emotions about this young woman. Desire being the foremost of them. Their childhood camaraderie had now given way to something more. There was desire, yes. There was also a tenuous affection and a large dollop of respect. Her power as a Caster would command respect from all but her performance of duty today garnered her whole new level from him.
He noted the large mark of the Caster on her shoulder and the smaller rune tattoos of her accomplishments thus far. There were casters among the Fey that were almost completely covered with tattoos.
It bothered him that his eyes were constantly drawn to her slim form. He found that her skin had a fascinating luminosity that he had never noticed. He hated the idea of the beautiful pale flesh be covered with tattoos. Her nudity, while pleasant was not a major factor. The Kohani of the Fey had none of the nudity taboos that were so common amongst other cultures and races.

Aisling on the other hand was floating freely in the water puzzling over what was going to happen next. She had every confidence in the ability of the guardsmen to turn back the invasion, but her own personal path was hidden from her now.
Aisling had entered into her apprenticeship early. Her former Master had sent his apprentice on to face his right of ascension and was willing to take on a new apprentice. So Aisling stepped forward early, not wanting to miss an opportunity to learn from one of the best. Her mother had been encouraging, her father had only seemed sad to lose his daughter so young.
Aisling was not so wound up in her own problems not to notice the way that Zeran kept watching her. It was exciting and more than a little confusing. Though not so much so that it pushed the other concerns from her mind.

When the aging healer returned to retrieve that water logged pair, he found them conversing easily about various friends and family. He was moderately surprised. More often than not members of the opposite sex that soaked in the regenerative pools ended up coupling.
Upon examination he found that the ear coloring on Aisling still denoted her maiden status as being in existence. Zeran was obviously amiable to the idea. Perhaps the waters were losing their potency. Or perhaps she was not ready to explore that side of her nature yet.
She was almost completely restored. A few days rest would see her to a complete recovery. The Archives had only listed two other fey with her abilities. One died as a result of pushing himself too far. The other was another male and was of the ancients and a hermit living in the wilds.
*****
“Thain, Elene! I have found something that I think belongs to you!” Called Zeran as he opened the door and entered the vast kitchen of the large stone cottage of the Comanshir family. He gave Aisling a wink and placed his finger to his lips indicating his request for her silence.

“Zeran that you?” called Elene from the direction of the main living room.
“Yeah Elene, come see what I have brought for you!” He called back.
The sound of Elene’s bare foot falls approaching the kitchen caused Zeran to step in front of the now clean, pale gowned and smiling Aisling.