Authors Corner

This chapter and the last were originally meant to be the same chapter. It was far too long though.

Part two of two.

Loo woo Loo

Chapter 15 – Hel-Loo? Is it me you're looking for?

Phillius Oakbard

Irritating.

Things aren't working out according to my calculations. I have been orchestrating 'accidental' meetings of the two factions currently warring in my city, but I haven't been able to kill off as many spies as I would like. Conversely, I'm pleased that I've accounted for most of the agents in the city.

The irritating part is that there were more agents than I had surmised. A few even weaseled into the Inner Court. I was surprised.

I hate surprises.

Hmm. The planning is satisfactory though. These kinds of surprises are expected, to an extent. It takes a flexible mentality to manage a city as hectic as Gol-ta.

I'm flexible. My mind is anyways.

I adjust, I observe, I adjust again.

I just get a headache when the smooth operations in my city are disturbed by minor issues. It's the minor issues that are the cause of this headache.

The Mage had brought in a decent amount of product, but he is uncontrollable and his sanity is questionable. Anilea is dealing with it, but her performance has been unacceptable as of late. Sav is running around stirring up the Heramites. That's the last thing I need.

The Mage seems to be the root of the problem.

Unacceptable. I'd fix this problem with my regular means, but the Mages are one group I'm not going to anger unless I stand to profit a country.

I must be getting old. I would have never hesitated in the past.

Speaking of being old, I should stretch, I'm getting cramps. I drag myself out of my chair.

Hmm.

This temporary office is too dry, too cold and too far from my staff. I suppose I should call it my main office now, over the last few days I've had everything moved over, for one reason or another. For efficiency I think I'll keep it as my main office for a while yet.

I shuffle to the window and survey the city.

I see before me things that are within my power to mold.

At least the view is acceptable.

---

Sav

I'm climbin' onto my wagon. Time to make a short trip. I know it will be a few days ride, but I need to see these folk. If I can find 'em. Can't believe they're so hard to track.

'specially for me. Trackin' is what I do, so where are they? Blast them. The trail is too cold, is what it is.

Muttering to myself ain't helpin'. Blast it. Mutterin' helps most days, certain. Why is mutterin' not helpin' today?

I kick a stone outta my way. It 'urts. Blast it. I 'ate that stone. I 'ate that man.

It's that one. He's been trickin' people. Crazy as an Albarg, yet no one listens to Sav. Never listen to Sav, certain. Blast them.

I 'ave a right happy time now though, shouldn't be so mad, certain.

'Cause I heard that folk around here finally woken up. They all thinkin' that wild one was goin' crazy now, certain.

It's a laugh to me. He was crazy to begin with.

Heram knows, the world be a better place without beast like that.

He stole my blasted Mana Sealers!

A friend o' mine be tellin' me he is all holed up in the Gaubriard, loungin' about. He's certain to be playin' about. Makin' new games and trickin' honest folk. It's a Magekin, it's all they do.

They never listen to Sav.

I told 'em that he was mad. They let 'im just walk 'round loose.

I'll not be 'avin' my folks and friends be killed by 'im on a game of 'is. I always 'ave to figure things for myself.

I know I gotta. It is right true that he is mad.

Wouldn't want 'im causin' more sufferin' now.

That's for certain.

---

Anilea

I'm going to see the odd man, Wil the Mage. Maybe he should just be called Wil now...

I'm not sure if he'll be a Mage anymore, his mana corruption is so evident. Though, it's hard to say if he was a Mage in the first place. I've never seen anyone destroy Fleetingwood with their bare fists. That kind of strength is enviable.

He is so meek even with that much strength. My pride as a warrior is hurt.

As for his current condition, it's unfortunate. He is the most polite Mage I have ever met. He was well-mannered even when the Boss was pressuring him into the job. I've never seen a meek Mage before.

They normally wave their spells around with arrogance. Any guard that isn't green behind the ears will always come to hate them. A guard can't do anything though, even after they cause havoc. So we ignore them.

I had just ignored Wil like every Mage. I ignored the proceedings like every other time the Boss negotiated a business deal. I'm the one who had guided Wil though. I'm the one who figured that even in poor condition a Mage could handle some monsters with ease.

I think I was too cautious to say anything. It's a response I've learned due to all my previous encounters with Mages. I knew something was off when we were walking to the grotto. I thought he was too eccentric, even for a Mage. The politeness should have been a warning. Instead, I blundered ahead thinking it would be an easy day's work.

I should have known better. When I saw him near the harbor for the first time he looked like he had just seen his first battlefield. It's a look I wore myself years back. I had assumed it was the usual Mage training. So I didn't ask. I assumed that any answer I received would be too full of secrets to bother with. So I didn't ask.

I didn't ask.

I didn't even ask, even though it would have taken only a moment. Now the result rests with me.

Haaaa. I can only blame my own ineptitude.

He's been ill for days. After he was left alone, he even took off his Ethul. I've been trying to repay my debt and asking around about what happened in the grotto. I researched the Fleetingwoods behavior and tales of them talking, as absurd as it is. What I heard was shocking. The Fleetingwoods are psychic. Psychic creatures aren't that rare, but they are usually solitary. Fleetingwoods on the other hand, share parts of their mind and live as part of a whole.

It's a guess, but there is a thought that the forest of Fleetingwood is a single creature. It's something I had never thought to question before now, but considering how hard they are to catch no matter how many people you bring, them being psychic should have been obvious.

The more worrisome thing I heard is that in rare cases a human can touch upon the shared mind. I think it's what happened to Wil. I had heard stories before about people never coming back from hunting Fleetingwood, but like everyone else I had dismissed it as a myth. it didn't even occur to me that a Mage would have any trouble, even with a psychic creature. That's why they wear an Ethul in the first place.

I shouldn't have let him had the Mana Sealers back. Of course the Ethul would stop working if he put on the Sealers. I was too shocked with his strength. I handled it poorly. I thought I had left my naivety behind in my youth. It's frustrating.

Visiting him has helped. Me, at least.

I greet the employee on hand as I come in. They aren't happy about this situation, but no one wants to upset a Mage enough to ask him to leave. The walls are thick, anyway.

I've been going to see him as duty permits. I blame myself for what happened, though I've seen enough in my life that I know not to get wrapped up in self-pity. I know the only way I'll feel right is to see him get better.

Even coming to help could be seen as trying to steal Mage secrets. I don't care anymore if it brings down the wrath of the Mages on me.

Every day I have come, I see him in a bad state, but as I open the door today he looks to be on the mend.

I pried the Sealers off a few days back. His Ethul is back on. So I'm relieved to see that the color has returned to his face, at last.

I've always felt that soldiers best pull through when surrounded by their comrades. So here I am.

I don't know of anyone else that this man would call a friend. Not Sav. That man is too petty to care about anyone else. I can't ask any more about his background without the Boss finding out, or even worse, the Mages.

I might not be a friend, but I can still encourage him.

I've done it many times for friends and comrades who were ill, so for a man who has done me no wrong. A man whose suffered due to these hands of mine...

It's the least I can do.

I hope he pulls through.

---

Wilson

Hello?

…

Where have I been?

My mind was lost in a sea of thought, worry and doubt. Far beyond the tides that I've had to wade through.

Since then I've been adrift.

I slowly open my eyes.

But I can see the shore of sanity again.

Anilea is sitting to the side of the bed. I'm floating on this comforting and colorful bed, and there is bright light coming in through the open windows. I can hear the sounds of the lively city outside and smell salty fresh air.

It's wonderful.

I've seen Anilea a lot in the last few days, I think. Her steady voice has been my anchor to reality. She has been coming in again and again to talk to me, even though I don't respond.

My thoughts are clear and I meet her eyes.

I know who I am.

I might give her a conversation today.

“Are you alright, Wil?”

Concern. I can see it in her eyes as she leans in closer to look at my waking self.

She's close to me. We're close together.

I can see every line of her face. It's a warm face.

“Yes, I think I'm okay.”

Her cheeks are hiding a tinge of pink, her lips betray a smile and her head lets slip a nod.

“Good.”

…

I've discovered something. Something new. Something amazing. It might even be better than muscles, robes, magic or wizards.

I've found a warm feeling dwelling in my heart. It began with a trickle of belonging. It has flourished under a familiar face. It's now rising to the gorge of my throat and the corners of eyes.

For once it's not nausea, but rather joy.

…

Joy.

…

I take a moment to collect myself. I'm no longer warring within. I can see myself.

All because of the soft steady words calling me Wil.

Not Wilson, Maniac, Magnificent, Sorrowful, Beautiful or Average.

Who am I?

…

I no longer need to guess.

I no longer need to cry.

I don't even need to ask why.

I've found inside, a self who's free.

The man called Wil is me.

---

Solitude & Solace

Part 1

End

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