Ian woke with a start. His hands flew to his stomach searching for the wound and finding it bandaged. The pain almost nonexistent only a dull ache. He was in a hospital or, at least, the equivalent of one. Sterile white paint covered the walls with a thin band of pink running around at the level of the beds. Sunlight was streaming in from the open windows banishing any shadows and the nightmares that may lie within.

Ian settled back into the bed, his mind still groggy and his memories fuzzy. Part of him wondered if it had all been an elaborate dream. The bandages and aches told him otherwise; he fell back into the bed. He didn’t have to wait long for someone to come and check on him

An elf dressed in soft blue robes entered the room with a chart in one hand and a pencil in the other. He glanced towards Ian and nodded, ticking off marks as he checked on the covered occupant in the room’s second bed.

“I will be with you in a moment Gent McClintoc, though I am glad to see you are awake. You had us worried for a while there,” He said.

Ian looked over to the table next to his bed and was pleasantly surprised to find his wallet, phone, and gun all sitting there. He reached over and picked up his phone. He’d left it on for hours and the battery was not looking good. Then the reason for his phone being on came back to him in a flash, Anders.

He jerked up into a sitting position causing his head to spin. He looked at the other bed hopeful of what he would find. And there was his partner, still disfigured, still unconscious, but breathing steadily. The cleric rushed over to Ian and gently but firmly pushed him back down.

“Do not worry; your friend is alive. We are taking the best possible care of him. He has not woken up yet but we are hopeful. Priestess Ybarra herself must have been watching over him day and night since he was brought in; it is remarkable. My name is Cleric Figgus, you are in the Nestairium, in Landorei," Figgus said offering Ian a cup of water.

Ian slid back into the bed and turned his attention back to his phone long enough to shut it off. He’d find some way to charge it later. He drank his water slowly and answered what questions he could from the cleric’s routine chart. Ian flexed his legs, stretched out his stomach, and moved about every muscle that he could. Aside from a little soreness in his stomach, he felt fine.

“Alright,” Figgus said, making a note on his sheet after he finished questioning Ian, “you are free to go. You have been asleep for a few days now and your friends were getting anxious. You’ll find your clothing at the foot of the bed. But promise me that you will not push yourself for a few days, alright? They said they were staying at the Hearthfelt Inn. The hailer can give you directions.”

“I won’t, thank you,” Ian mumbled. When the cleric left the room, Ian pulled off the hospital robe and retrieved the contents of the trunk at the foot of the bed. Inside was a bound package with a note attached.

Ian,

Thank you for being so understanding about all this. I know this has been hard for you, and I am sorry I did not believe you at first. Please accept these clothes as a way of apology. I will get you back home safe and sound and, if I cannot know that you will always have at least one person who calls you friend.

-Valethalassa

He folded the note up and placed it tenderly inside his pouch. He donned the outfit, it was a perfect fit. A grief that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel washed over him and he let it. He accepted her sacrifice and his loss. When he was able to, he checked on his partner. The venerable detective stirred in his sleep.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Ian said. “But we’ll do that when you are feeling like your old self. Get better Anders, I’ll see you soon.”

Ian left the clinic and followed the Hailers directions to the Hearthfelt Inn. The walk did him some good. Fresh air and sunshine along with the gentle scenery left him feeling more at ease. He entered the Inn and found himself in a large open room. Table and chairs were spread out in no discernable order. A smattering of customers sat around them holding quiet conversations. Ian could see a bar and an open window into the kitchen behind it. An elven woman was moving about in the kitchen as a waiter took out the food orders that she placed in the window. The check-in counter was off to the right-hand side of the tavern. An elderly elf with a kind face was manning the desk.

“Greetings, Gent. Needing a room?” He asked.

“Actually, I was told that my friends were staying here. Ban'Koliath? He’s a minotaur about yea tall?” While asking, Ian held his arm out straight ahead to indicate a little less than Ban’s full height.

“Ah yes, I saw him heading out a little while ago,” The old elf replied, “Would you like me to take a message? Or you are welcome to wait here for him.”

“I’ll wait, thank you,” Ian responded.

Ian selected a table facing the entrance. As Ian perused the menu Roland came stumbling down the stairs. He was wearing the same violet robes Ian had always seen him in. His face had a haggard, drained expression as he walked into the dining area and sat down at a table two away from Ian.

“Jara Ink, strong. Please," Roland said as he slumped into a seat. He took a bleary-eyed look around the tavern. His purple eyes spotted Ian but the haze of sleep delayed his recognition. Ian watched him and waited, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Ian!” Roland’s exclaimed when his head snapped back, his brain having finally caught up with his eyes, “Glad to see you up and about my friend.” He mustered the energy to get up and made his way to Ian’s table.

“Roland,” Ian got to his feet and hugged the mage, “I’m glad you’re alright. Well, aside from looking like you haven’t slept since last week. Where is everyone?”

“Well, Ban'Koliath and the Commander have been in discussions that I am not privy to, Order of Brass stuff. As for the others, Pandora is upstairs I believe, and I haven’t seen Mal for a day or so but he’s around.” Roland answered as an elf from the kitchen came out and set a steaming mug in front of him.

“I suppose we’ll see what Ban has to say when he gets back,” Ian paused, trying to think of how best to broach the next topic. Opting for the direct approach he simply asked, “So, when do Anders and I get to go home?”

Roland looked hesitant to answer.

Never a good sign, Ian thought as he folded his hands on top of the table.

“You can’t go home, Ian. Neither of you can,” Roland said flatly. He spiked his Jara Ink with the liquor in his flask before taking a sip. Giving Ian some time to digest the bad news.

“Did we miss a window for the spell to work? How long am I stuck here?” Ian asked after processing the news.

“It’s not that simple,” Roland said softly, “The spell that Ivy placed on you when you were in that circle… it hasn’t faded away. At this point, I’m not even sure that it will.”

Ian glanced at him, silently prompting him to continue.

“The spell is some kind of magical siphon. This type of magic is keyed into a specific place and if you enter that place all of the magical energy within will be pulled into your body. Until either all of it is absorbed, or you physically can’t contain anymore. The good news is that it doesn’t seem to be reactive to Paragore’s magic.”

“Earth,” Ian said flatly, “That’s what Ivy was after. He said it had vast untapped magical reserves. He needed a native to use as a conduit to funnel that untapped magic back here.”

“Yes,” Roland said, steepling his fingers together, “I suspected it was something like that. There may be a way to undo the spell, of course. I don’t want to give false hope," Roland hastily amended seeing Ian’s hopeful look, “It could take a very long time, even for me. Ivy was using magic so complex that I can’t even decipher all of it, so I will have to do some research.”

“I understand,” Ian said, leaning back though without the look of utter defeat this time.

The door to the inn swung open pulling Ian’s attention away from Roland. The short but powerful frame of Ban filled the doorway. He was dressed in the uniform of the Order of Brass since the need for him to pose as a lawyour had passed. Black leather complimented his brown fur and highlights of gold and silver tastefully displayed his rank on his chest, next to the sigil of the Order.

“Have you told him?” Ban asked as he made his way over.

“Yeah, he told me,” Ian said.

“I am sorry, Ian,” Ban said with a sigh and slipped into an empty seat at the table. “I wish we could have sent you both home.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Ian said with a shrug. “Any sign of the Court?”

“No,” Ban answered, shaking his head, “The doorway into the Key has been sealed. We barely had time to get out ourselves. We’ve checked in the law office and it is the same. I don’t think he was expecting your weapon to harm him as much as it did. I’m sure he could have avoided it but his arrogance cost him. We also found the First Ranger’s body. He’d been dead for a few days at least and left in the storehouse. As for the assassin who replaced him, Kaelic, there has been no sign of him.”

But it isn’t all bad news. People are flocking to join the Order. News has spread over all of Paragore about what the Harlequin Court tried to accomplish. And you are being heralded as the savior of Paragore, Ian. The Order can never repay that debt but we will get you home. I promise you that.”

“Thank you, and please I just shot the bad guy. It’s what us cops do when lives are on the line. End the threat,” Ian said then switched topics to get away from being praised, right now he didn’t feel like a hero, “You said when we were escaping, Dakon is finished?”

“Yes. I ended his life if you can call it that, myself. For Valethalassa,” Ban said solemnly. “You should know that there is a tree marking the hillside where her body was interred. I’ll take you there when you’re up to it.”

“I’d like to go alone. Just need directions. What about Mal? Roland said he hasn’t been around," Ian asked lamely. He expected the wolf to have roamed back out into the wild.

“I said I hadn’t seen him in a day or so. You’ve been out for almost a week,” Roland corrected. Both he and Ban smiled. “But, you’ll have to ask our lupine companion about what he’s been up too. He’ll find you when you are ready, I’m sure,” Roland supplied.

That’s not cryptic or anything Ian thought, aloud he said, “Okay then. Anything else I should know about before I figure out how to put my life back together?”

“Commander Gormath is rebuilding the Order. Commander Reige stepped down. Though he did not act directly he could not dismiss the blame for allowing war golems and, even a Command Golem, to be used by the Court,” Ban said.

“Command Golem?” Ian asked.

“Dakon. It was why he was so powerful. The Nyeberians employed very dark magic in their creation. The Command Golems directed the many armies of cavalry, siege, and all the other golems during the Cataclysmic War,” Ban explained.

Ian sat back and processed. The infiltration of the Order of Brass. Ancient machines of war. His inability to get home. Valethalassa’s death. And Anders being alive and crippled. It was a lot to take in.

“I know you have much to think about Ian. But if you want it, there is a place for you in the Order of Brass. You have more than proven yourself," Ban offered with a smile.

“Or you could always apprentice with me," Roland snuck in. “There is magical talent in you Ian. I’ve felt it. You could learn to harness that talent and become a fine mage. Well, nowhere near as good as me, but you get the idea.”

“Thank you, both,” Ian stood up from the table, “I need time to think. Can you give me directions to Vale’s grave?” He wasn’t going to make any life-altering decisions while his head and heart were in such turmoil.

With Ban’s directions, Ian excused himself and headed out into the city. The scenery of Landorei blended into a wall of greens and browns as he walked through the city in a numb haze. His feet carried him up an avenue that would have ordinarily stunned him with its beauty, but today it made him feel sick to his stomach.

He came over the crest of the hill and stopped. She really would have loved this, he thought. A grove of freshly planted saplings sat next to a bend in a small stream. Purplish-pink leaves were budding from the trees. The air was permeated with a pleasant scent that was somehow both comforting and sorrowful. One of the saplings was glowing faintly, almost calling to him with its waxing and waning green glow. His feet moved of their own accord bringing him to stand before it.

This one is hers. His mind felt soothed, comforted by the glow, and what he hoped was her presence. He knelt and began weeping softly, feeling grief, anger, and sorrow wash over him with each tear. Finally, with a long sigh, he got to his feet. Turning and readying to leave he jumped back, startled by the elf sitting nearby.

The elf was lounging on the ground, one leg propped up on the other’s knee. He was flipping through the pages of a book though he closed it and looked up at Ian.

Ian relaxed as a feeling of familiarity settled over him even though he was certain he’d never met the elf before. He noted the elf’s striking appearance sharp facial features with flawless skin, like most of his kin. But what set him apart were his eyes. They were a deep, piercing icy blue, and they were the eyes of someone who had seen far too much for his youthful appearance.

The elf smiled as he watched Ian getting to his feet. The long blue robe he was wearing pooled about his ankles as he dusted himself off.

“It is nice here. I like to come here to relax," He said, then he took a few steps forward, readying to leave, and stopped, “You know before I go let me offer you some advice. When you find yourself at a crossroads, take the path of adventure. No one wants to live a boring life.”

Ian looked at the elf quizzically not able to form any response for sheer confusion.

“You have the look of someone who needed advice, that is all," The elf said calmly.

Ian looked back to the grave, somehow uncomfortable with leaving just yet.

“Take your time, Ian, son of Daniel. I think perhaps you will find the answer you seek with your friends,” The elf said.

Ian jerked his head around but the elf was gone. Where he’d been standing, a single leaf fluttered to the ground. Ian caught the leaf twirling it between his thumb and index finger. The five-pointed spread of the leaf pulsed once with a soft white glow spreading through his hand and along his arm until it enveloped his entire being.

Ian felt no malice or danger as the glow surrounded him. He simply felt at peace. He sat down in the same spot the elf had been occupying, his gaze coming back to rest on the young sapling that marked Vale’s grave. The minutes ticked by and the sun moved lower now sinking below the horizon.

When the last rays of sunlight winked out of the sky, he stood. The glow had faded from his body some time ago, and his sense of calm was now replaced by one of resolve. He gripped the leaf in his hand and closed his eyes. I will find a way to get home, he promised himself.

He opened his hand and a small breeze kicked up snatching the leaf from his palm and sending it spiraling up into the air. Ian watched it go. When it was lost to his sight, he headed back into the city, ideas and plans rushing around in his head as he walked.

The elf was right. Ian needed to have a long talk with his friends.

--- End ---