Chapter 12 — Fenton’s Fate

Before Ayla could do anything reckless Yillian spoke up, “Indeed it is as you say, we've brought a potential new acolyte for you to initiate.” The elf motioned for Ayla to go ahead and take a seat on the couch.

Ayla's eyes narrowed before her grip on her sword’s sheath eased enough that her knuckles were no longer straining. With a scoff, she made her way to the center off the couch and sat, forcing Xyn to go around the back to take the final seat after Yillian sat down beside her.

Xyn was thoroughly impressed with his fellow initiate's acting skills and was becoming excited to try a line of his own. He eagerly observed Yillian to learn from the half-elf’s example.

Nicolas was smirking at the obvious tension and addressed Ayla, “Unfortunately, you've already missed out on directly receiving Xogg`Shriloth's blessing, though I'm sure we could come up with some creative ways for me to donate a portion of mine to you via body fluids.” The cultist opened his mouth and his tongue expanded, snaking longer like a tentacle and moving sinuously before he pulled it back into his mouth with a knowing smile and a laugh. "An unfortunate side effect of taking by mouth the elixir created from the Ancient One’s essence, but it has its amusing uses."

Whoa… is that normal for human tongues? Xyn was pretty sure it wasn't normal, but if all humans could do that, maybe the human interest in mouth-pressing and certain other embarrassing activities made more sense…

Ayla shivered for some reason then spoke up, "I'm looking for my cousin, Fenton Ravenhill. Do you know what happened to him?"

"Ah, so you’re a relative of his, huh. Sorry to say, but if I'm right, that guy wasn't able to resist the call of the Ancient One and willingly sacrificed himself to empower it's rebirth." Nicolas shrugged. "To your benefit, that means we could use someone strong like you to take his place. I'm a bit surprised that these two didn't tell you, but I suppose the information was hidden to make you easier to pawn off on me. Not that I mind." The human mage chuckled.

“Close enough,” Yillian admitted with a dark chuckle of his own.

Ayla’s shoulders sagged, and she went silent.

Xyn was a little worried about how Ayla was taking the news of her cousin’s demise, but Nicolas gestured at the wine glasses and entreated them, “Drink up. One of the best from my collection.”

Before Xyn could reach for the wine, Yillian made a wry smile and declined, “Thanks, but we’d better not. Last time the fellow here consumed such, he ended up dueling a noble in the middle of an inn.”

“Ah, a pity. Well, more for me.” Nicolas moved the wine glasses back to his side and sipped from one of them.

Since he was denied the wine, Xyn wasn’t going to be denied the cheese and extended a claw to stab himself a slice. A quick scan with his aura didn’t detect anything unusual so he sampled a little for taste and then the rest. It was quite good.

“So, you two have any news for me from the Tower?” Nicolas asked.

Suddenly, Ayla started to quietly chuckle, drawing a raised eyebrow from Nicolas and a concerned look from Yillian.

When her chuckling stopped, Ayla let out a large sigh. “Guess now that I don’t have to worry about Fenton, things are a lot simpler. Is his body recoverable?”

Nicolas waved off the idea. “Nah, he’s now part of good ole Xogg`Shriloth, wandering Mirewood collecting the rest of its Remnants. It’s interesting; since using the elixir, I’ve gained a connection to the thing and can sense it growing stronger.”

“What if the connection also lets it sense us? Won’t it come for us when it’s fully revived?” Ayla asked, wide-eyed.

“Maybe,” Nicolas admitted taking another sip from the tall glass then casually swirling the remaining wine. “The Tower has a plan. These guys know more about that than I do. So, you’d have to ask them.

Ayla glanced back at Yillian, who shrugged. “If you needed to know, you would know.”

“And there you have it.” Nicolas sarcastically saluted in Yillian’s direction with his glass.

“But why take such a risk?” Ayla asked. “What’s in it for us?”

The human mage snorted. “Why else? Power. Spare sons, discarded daughters, oppressed commoners, and immoral greedy scum may each have different end goals, but the common desire they all share is power, is it not? Surely, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t so.”

Ayla hesitantly nodded. “It is so.”

Nicolas laughed. “See? Simple, isn’t it? Now, since our Tower friends don’t seem to be in any rush…” The noble mage turned his attention toward Xyn. “I’m curious about the differences in our results from making use of the ‘gift’ from the ritual. Honestly, I’m impressed. From what I can tell, you’ve managed to integrate the Ancient One’s essence to an extent beyond what I was able to achieve with my alchemy skills.”

Having recognized the taint from Mirewood within Nicolas during the conversation, Xyn was fairly certain about the cause of the cultist’s misconception.

“That’s probably because I took advantage of the taint’s properties to overcome a bottleneck by carefully working it into my Elemental cultivation,” Xyn bragged with a bit of pride like he thought a real cultist would at hearing such praise and drew a sharp look from his fellow initiate.

Nicolas slowly nodded, replacing the empty wine flute with the last full one. “Indeed, body and aura cultivation does seem the correct approach to harness the ‘taint’. Though, judging by your voice and body, it sounds like your transformation was quite extensive as well. How about you, elf? Are the lack of results due to Elves being naturally resistant or maybe because of your famous cautious nature?”

Yillian rolled his eyes. “While I’m loathe to contribute to such a generalization of my people’s nature, I have indeed been cautious in my approach. I see no reason to waste such a precious resource through hasty action. My ‘results’ as you call them are proceeding within my expectations and are honestly none of your business.”

“I see. I see. No insult was intended.” Nicolas chuckled and nonchalantly took a large draw from the flute of wine in his hand.

It was only thanks to noticing the weave forming in the human mage’s mouth that Xyn was on his feet, moving into the motions of Love’s Blossom as the wine-mist spewed forth. Wresting control of the aura embedded in the attack and blending it with his own, Xyn split the poison mist to either side, unleashing his own Breath of Sleep to Nicolas’ shocked surprise.

The cultist wobbled drowsily but was quickly surrounded by a blue shield that interfered with Xyn’s ability to maintain Breath of Sleep’s weave, and he could feel the human’s taint-empowered tongue neutralizing the technique’s toxic properties.

Xyn was already Petal-stepping behind Nicolas and unleashed several aura-empowered Rippling Strikes rapidly to punch through the shield and stun the mage who had just managed to stand. Needing to get the gasping mage asleep before he could use his magic, Xyn grabbed the man’s tongue and pulled. “Ayla!”

With a swift upward cut from Ayla, the tongue separated free, and Xyn had to spin out of the way of the spurting blood. A freshly executed Breath of Sleep finally caused the cultist’s eyes to roll back, and the man slumped to the couch, blood bubbling from his mouth with his breath.

“Yillian!”

“I’ll try…” Yillian’s face was pale as a golden mandala formed where the half-elf mage held his hand near Nicolas’ face. The half-elf’s brow furrowed in concentration for tense minutes before the glow of the magic faded. “I wasn’t able to restore the severed part, but the bleeding has been stopped.”

“What do we do about him? He was clearly a cultist and part of a larger conspiracy…” Ayla worried aloud. “Gods, if the Tower really is involved…”

“You wanted to protect your friend’s family… and it’s too dangerous to leave him be. I could try erasing his memories related to us and the cult,” Xyn suggested, glancing at the tongue clamped between his fingers that was still weakly squirming, somehow no longer bloody.

“Doesn’t he need to be interrogated? Though… that might admittedly be problematic now…” Ayla’s eyes also drifted to the tongue.

“The Society probably has healers capable enough, but trying to escape the castle with him seems risky. Maybe there’s evidence around that we can use to identify the others instead?” Yillian suggested. “From what Nicolas was saying the tongue can probably help Master Arienos locate the Ancient One, so taking it was a smart idea. A sealed jar would be the best way to transport it if we can find one.”

Xyn was relieved that a jar was readily found inside Nicolas’ private alchemy lab. Yillian confiscated Nicolas’ notes, journals, and any cult-related research, stashing the materials under Ayla’s dress in the clothes basket. While Xyn was renewing the Breath of Sleep’s effect that had started to wear off, Ayla called over to them from the bedroom.

“It’s a ‘bolt-hole’—a small hidden room where nobles can hide when the castle is breached,” Ayla was saying about the hidden door that had been further hidden by a large armoire.

But that wasn’t the reason Ayla had called them over. Inscribed on the floor of the now revealed room was a complex magic design that looked similar to the spell mandalas that would appear when Yillian was using his magic.

“Do you know what the magic inscribed here is?” Ayla asked Yillian.

“No. But it looks like a teleport circle.”

“So, it’s possible this leads to the other cult members then?”

“Maybe. But I don’t have a clue how to activate a magic this advanced. I’d better sketch it down for Master Arienos to look at.”

Leaving Yillian to his work, Ayla accompanied Xyn back to the cultist son of House Arden. Considering the risk to each of them should their assault on the count’s son become known, Ayla reluctantly agreed that attempting to erase his memories was the safest course. Killing him was apparently less optimal as it would lead to diviners identifying them as the murderers and possibly lead to the king’s justicars hunting them.

With the smell of blood lingering and the pulse of his first real battle still coursing through him, Xyn struggled to calm his mind enough to form the aura weave, but after the first failure, he relatched onto his desire to impress Ayla and renewed his focus. Having already successfully formed the weave once, he had more confidence that he could do it again. He still almost lost control of the weave in his excitement upon managing to construct it a second time.

Not wanting to risk delaying, Xyn breathed out and let the aura contained in his breath push the complex weave into Nicolas’ forehead and deeper where, as Xyn watched in fascination, the weave intertwined itself into the mage’s Tree of Memories.

The next part was critical to the success of the technique and would determine success or failure—a possible failure that Xyn would have no way to verify.

“Nicolas, I want you to think about the encounter you just had, each person involved and your thoughts about them.”

Xyn focused on the representation of Nicolas’ memories and directed the weave to wrap tighter and more completely around the leaves that resonated at his verbal prompting.

“Good. Next, Nicolas, I want you to think about everything you know about your involvement in cults, particularly the cult of Xogg`Shriloth and any interactions you had with other people also involved in cult activity.”

Again, Xyn bound up the corresponding leaves as tight as possible, and feeling that his ability to maintain the weave was reaching its limits, he activated the final phase of the technique, watching as the weave and leaves became insubstantial, their contents drifting away as if on a gentle breeze.

“Did it work?”

Xyn nodded at Ayla’s inquiry. “I think so.” Then with more surety, “I’m certain.”

“I’m impressed. I didn’t think you would actually be able to do it,” Ayla admitted, but before Xyn’s heart and hopes could soar, she added with narrowed eyes, “If you even point that technique in my direction or if for some reason I start finding gaps in my memory, rest assured that I will act on my earlier threat.”

Ah! He had managed to impress her, but instead of winning her over, learning the forbidden technique had made her wary of him! Of course, that would be the case! It’s a technique to erase memories! How could he be so stupid? Always thinking with his muscles instead of his brain.

Xyn shook his head vigorously. “There’s no way I would do that!”

Ayla scoffed, “Even if that guy back at the bookstore told you to?”

“I’d rather quit the Society if it meant you would come with me back to my homeland and bear my kits,” Xyn offered seriously. He didn’t want to lose the opportunity to train under such strong masters, but he was still young and had time, and Ayla would bring with her knowledge of unfamiliar human techniques, allowing him to fully complete his mission.

For several moments she had no response for him. Xyn began to wonder if she would agree, but instead she asked, “Won’t the ‘Society’ come after you if you quit?”

“No?” Xyn tilted his head unsure. “From what Yillian told me, we’re paid by the job and can choose our jobs once we get promoted to Journeymen.”

“So, you’re mercenaries?”

“Maybe it’s a little different? I just joined, so I don’t really know much yet, but the contract mainly said that I would complete jobs that I accepted and wouldn’t talk about the Society if I left it. It didn’t have a term of service or anything like that.”

“Hmm,” Ayla considered. “I still don’t understand why Nicolas thought you and Yillian were cultists.”

“I think it was because we picked up some of the taint from Mirewood, where we were before coming to Ester. Nicolas’ tongue is full of that same taint.” Xyn was glad the jar with the disgusting appendage was in Yillian’s basket and not his problem anymore.

“There are stories of Elves that have tried to seek power by means of the Mirewood’s corruption,” Yillian volunteered as he came back into the room. “It didn’t end well for them, Xyn. The corruption is a constant worry for those assigned to patrol the mire.”

Xyn nodded. “I did finally achieve long-sought gains because of the risk I took while cultivating my Mist element within the mire, and I do desire to improve my Element, but I’m not seeking a path that turns its traveler into a monster.”

“Besides Xyn, girls don’t like guys with strange body parts,” Yillian remarked with a smirk then added, “Though maybe Ayla wouldn’t mind a guy with a tentacle tongue?”

“Like hells!” Ayla scrunched up her face in disgust. “That’s gross, you perverted elf!”

Ah! “So, human tongues can’t normally do that?”

“Hells no!” Ayla denied. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”

Yillian laughed. “You say the funniest things sometimes, Xyn.”

“Um, shouldn’t we figure out what we’re doing now, before someone comes?” Xyn asked, skillfully changing the topic from his embarrassing lack of knowledge about human anatomy.

“Yeah, we need to figure out what to tell Young Lady Marleyne,” Yillian said and met Ayla’s eyes. “Assuming you still want to report back to her, Ayla.”

“I do.”

“Okay, but before that…” Yillian made a more serious face and maintained eye contact with Ayla for a moment before letting his gaze drop. “I want to say that I’m sorry for your loss, and I’d like to apologize for my insensitivity when Nicolas told you earlier.”

Ayla shook her head. “No, I understood that you were acting the part of a cultist.”

“Even so,” Yillian insisted.

“Thanks.” Ayla made a wry half-smile. “I’m fine now. It’s just, I can’t help feeling that his death was, in a way, my fault.”

Xyn wanted to say something comforting as well but couldn’t think of anything. Wasn’t this the kind of moment where females want a hug to feel better?

Ayla's eyes hooded in his direction. “Don’t even think about hugging me, Xyn.”

How’d she know?!

Yillian chuckled a bit and shook his head in bemusement. “Alright. Concerning Young Lady Marleyne, here’s what I have in mind…”