Chapter 18

The Quartet

Only a few days were needed for information of the events at Devil’s Haven to disseminate through the populace. Papers were printed, and rumors abounded at what quickly became the talk of Serotin. Very few people actually knew of the events which had happened, or rather, the truth behind those events, but a great many had guessed. Some said it had something to do with Silicias and the Luster Mines, while others said it had to do with Sayn. Still others reckoned it must have to do with the continent to the west. None could say.

Terrill and his companions, of course, weren’t telling.

Indeed, Terrill realized on the fourth day after the battle there, they had spent more time convalescing from their wounds and exhaustion than they were actually saying anything. Only Krysta had left their quarters, allowed to visit Specs and his companions for their research, fruitless as it was. Otherwise, she had been a great boon to them, but even she admitted there were limits to how far her magic could take them, necessitating a longer recovery period than Terrill cared for.

It mattered little, as the mayor had been too busy to see them, what with cleaning up all that had occurred. His office had reopened, but only to select few as he took up residence in Serotin once again. All conversation with the family became limited to Torry, who admitted to sneaking out more than once to come see them.

“I think you’re a bad influence on her,” Krysta remarked, peeling an apple just to have something to do. Floyd gasped, giving the girl a “not me?!” expression that made Terrill snort into the newspaper he was holding. He shifted on his chair, poring over the words on the pages and scratching at his loose bandages. His eyes only occasionally flicked over to the door that was their only ticket out. The guards would come in often enough bearing food or the “secret” visits from Torry (and once with repaired clothing), but for the most part, the trio couldn’t leave, and were forced to wait for their audience with the mayor. “Though she seems more interested in Terrill right now.”

“Hey, that is so not cool!”

“Trust me, Floyd, I am far from interested, myself,” Terrill reassured him. “She just wants to see more of my magic.”

“Can you blame her? Look what we discovered! Lifebloods, the very source of magic! This could take all magical research to greater heights, and to know that there are more out there is something that could be the adventure of a lifetime!” Floyd was far too giddy for Terrill’s tastes, and he buried his head back inside his paper. “Though I doubt daddy will let Torry go…”

“Mmm,” the other two vocalized, and both leaned in to see what that day’s highlights were. Most of it was the usual rumors, or a statement by the mayor that Point Harbor had once more opened up again, while safety guidelines would be reviewed regarding the Luster Mines. There had been no more incidents, but the caution the prior ones had created was palpable even as far as Serotin. Clay had not been spotted since, and nor had Winifred, with all rumors of the woman having seemingly died off.

That was disturbing in its own right, though no more disconcerting than the last words she had left him with. Those about Atrum, and the Shadow King. He found his fingers crumpling the paper, and the action highlighted a very specific word on the front page, one which Krysta read aloud, having seen it, herself.

“‘While details remain scant about the purge of the pirates at Devil’s Haven, some news has emerged from soldiers at the scene’,” she spoke, drawing even Floyd’s attention to her. “‘A number of pirates escaped custody, though without a ship, the attacks from them have vanished entirely. Perhaps they are deterred by the one who is said to have resolved the conflict at the Haven, one who calls himself a Guardian. Little is known about this mysterious savior, but many in Serotin are sleeping safer tonight from his actions’.”

“Hey, look at that, you’re famous! Er…kinda…” Floyd said, rubbing the back of his head as he corrected himself. Terrill couldn’t believe it either, shaking his head at the reports. He hadn’t done any of it for fame, but if people felt a little better with a Guardian out there, then it couldn’t be all bad. Krysta thought less so, frowning at the paper and squirming a bit where she stood. She counteracted this by popping a piece of apple in her mouth.

“What’s wrong with it?” Terrill endeavored to ask.

“I don’t like it, is all,” Krysta said, her frown manifesting a scowl instead. “Could make things harder to move around if you get too famous.”

“Yeah, I’m not too worried about that.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door to Floyd’s dormitory room, which then swung open. The guards were there, at more attention than they’d ever been, and it wasn’t hard to tell why. Torry was framed in the doorway, only now wearing a dress that indicated her status as the mayor’s daughter. Her rose headband held her hair back, while her aquamarine dress fit her well, her hands behind her back.

She meant business, and Terrill was about ready to sigh with relief.

“My father is ready to see you now,” she announced with authority.

“About damn time…” Terrill and Floyd muttered at the same time, standing from the chair and bed they’d been forced to occupy. With a nod, Torry led them out into the corridor, dismissing the guards as they swept through to the Academy lawn without so much as a word.

Whatever had happened with the mayor and the Luster Mines, nothing had changed with the Academy, whose life continued as normal. The only difference was just that people greeted Torry and seemed happy to have her back. She didn’t look as happy to be back, but greeted them graciously, even if irritated scowls were on her face right afterwards. None of it deterred their path towards the manor on the hill that was their destination.

“Your leg seems better, Floyd.”

“Ah, yeah, all thanks to Krysta here. Well, that and letting myself rest a couple days.”

“Is that what you call it?” Krysta said. She had raised an eyebrow and Terrill bit back his laugh. “By day two you were bouncing off the walls screaming to be let out.”

“What can I say? I hate staying still.” The three enjoyed Floyd’s comment with hearty guffaws. To Terrill’s surprise, Torry didn’t join in, the girl instead wearing a wistful expression as she regarded them. It was a far cry from the endless inquisitiveness she’d imposed upon them since they’d arrived in Serotin. No begging questions about the Lifeblood, or Terrill’s Earth Magic and how it had manifested stronger than she’d ever seen in the battle. Floyd, of course, had noticed all this before him. “Everything okay, Torry? I know you don’t like the formal stuff of being the mayor’s daughter, but you seem even more out of it than usual.”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just late nights researching.” She wiped the expression off, but her gait had noticeably slowed, and Terrill really did wonder what was on her mind. He may not have known her long, but her actions at Devil’s Haven had created respect for the ace mage before him. It was him that she addressed as they neared the mayor’s manor. “I was looking into that prophecy they kept mentioning, wondering if it had anything to do with these Lifebloods you discovered. All I found were vague legends. Even in my mother’s office.”

“Is that where you’ve been, Torry?” Mayor Rainert’s voice was a sudden surprise to all of them, making the quartet jump. He had been waiting at the front gates of his manor, his soldiers drawn close and alert for anything. “You know you shouldn’t go in there.”

“I know why you don’t want me in there, and it has nothing to do with any of this.” Her task complete, Torry looked back to the trio with that same wistfulness, and then ran up the stairs in her dress to get far away. Mayor Rainert sighed.

“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with her,” he said, rubbing at his temples as usual. He stopped it once he realized who he was talking to, and extended his hand. “That said, I know that my thanks are much in order. I thought it best to meet you out here. I owe you a very deep debt of gratitude, Terrill, Krysta.

“…and you, too, Floyd.”

“Aw, you mean it, Mr. Rainert?” Floyd looked ready to enclose the man in a hug. Seeing how much it would disturb the man, Terrill precluded that by clasping the mayor’s hand and shaking it. Krysta reined the boy in. “Glad we could be of help!”

“Loathe as I am to admit it,” the mayor grunted. He harrumphed, adjusting his waistcoat and turning around to lead the three of them inside. The guards followed close behind until the door to the manor snapped shut, and a butler had escorted them inside the spacious office. No one said a word, not even Floyd, until the mayor sat down and addressed them. “Point Harbor is open again and Luster Mines is open for business. The pirates have been routed, and the Serotin army is unharmed. Some missing merchants were rescued once we dug the rubble from the Haven’s dungeons, and the only casualties appeared to have been those caused by LeBrandon on his own men. It’s almost as if all my problems have been solved since your arrival.”

“Pretty sure that’s just a coincidence,” Krysta said.

The mayor hummed, but Terrill realized it was not a hum of assent. He was contradicting her, and that made Terrill’s interest in the conversation skyrocket. “Perhaps not. Terrill, when we first met a week ago, you mentioned that you were pursuing that woman. That…Winifred.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her.” It wasn’t like she had ever left his mind, but he hadn’t considered that perhaps she hadn’t left the minds of others, either. The mayor made that plain by his fingers tapping on the desk, running across some papers, some scorched and others pristine. “Has she come back?”

“No…not yet, at least,” the mayor responded. This information didn’t appear to sit well with either of them. “My men have reported no sightings of her. What we may have discovered was a peek into her intentions, though.”

At this, he slid the charred papers across his desk towards Terrill, who leaned forward with the others to look at them. It was practically illegible to the naked eye, but a few things could be seen in the lettering. “The Shadow King…and Valorda?”

“I can’t say if this Shadow King is a real thing or not,” the mayor said, now folding his hands together as he regarded them, “but I can say that the uptick in problems caused by this singular woman means that whatever she says…it’s not over yet.”

“I think we figured that one out, but it’s not like there’re problems here,” Floyd said. He was being rather cavalier about the whole affair, and by the way the mayor’s nose twitched, it was clear he didn’t approve of the attitude. It went doubly so when Floyd flung his hands behind his head with a grin.

“Perhaps not here, but as I said, I don’t think she’s finished with Serotin yet, or the continent in general.” His finger tapped across the charred paper before sliding yet another piece. This looked newer, and not as damaged, but the style was the same. “That is a standard shipping document, usually for food as Sagitta doesn’t deal in arms. But the document we recovered from Devil’s Haven said that we do.”

Terrill couldn’t grasp the implications. Not immediately, at least. Krysta was far faster to the mark.

“She’s not giving up on her war.”

“I’m not entirely sure a war between Serotin and the pirates was ever the full plan. Merely an opening salvo in her machinations,” the mayor admitted. He stood here, and Terrill heard his chair creak, or perhaps the door behind him as it opened a small crack. “Serotin is not a violent nation. I’ve seen to that. But if Valorda comes to believe we’re supplying weapons to another country, especially Invaria what with the tensions between them, I can’t say what would happen.”

“It would line up with everything…” Terrill began to muse.

LeBrandon had more than a few screws loose, to be certain, but the more Terrill thought, the more he realized how much Winifred had been pulling the strings behind his actions. No, not Winifred, but perhaps these “Fiends”, looking to kickstart a war, just as they had fifteen years ago, and not caring how. Involving pirates and using them as patsies, or even creating a false “Shadow King” and the rumors associated with it, they were fine to stoop to whatever unscrupulous methods they could muster. Why, he couldn’t say, and Terrill had thought a lot about it since the conflict at Devil’s Haven was resolved, but what he did know was that he was caught in the middle of it, the conflict brewing in this world.

So were Lumen, Atrum and Charles.

Atrum… The words regarding his best friend continued to haunt him, and he didn’t want to believe any of it. Yet the conspicuous absence of all his former companions didn’t sit right with him. That there was a war brewing at the center of it all sat even less right with him.

That Lifeblood had been on to something, and it meant Terrill had a pseudo-destination in mind. Or perhaps a place to start, if the documents were any indication.

“I’m not asking you to serve Serotin. Far from it,” the mayor continued, breaking Terrill from his reverie to listen. “Rather, I’m simply asking if you’ll do what you seem to do best: protect us. I don’t want a war. I know full well what that looks like…and the people you lose to its madness.”

He may have, but the mayor did an excellent job hiding his pain as a leader. For that, Terrill had only one response.

“Like I’d do anything else. I’ve lost people to war, too, and I don’t want you or anyone else I know to get caught up in whatever her schemes are,” he declared. With that, he placed his hands atop the desk, leaning towards the mayor as Floyd snickered and Krysta shrugged. “I’ll head to Valorda, myself. If that was the next stage of her plan, then it’s best I see what things are like. And I might find my friends there…”

“Your friends?” To this, the mayor looked perplexed, an expression only broken by the snapping of the door behind him.

“Yeah, don’t suppose you’ve seen them? One has long blond hair, another nearly white and another is like a grizzled old man.”

“Your descriptions are spot-on, Terrill. Really, expert descriptions.” Terrill elbowed Floyd for his troubles.

The mayor turned pensive, stroking his chin. “I can’t say I know much, though the soldiers talk and exchange information. I do believe they might have mentioned a strange boy boarding a ship at Kirdon. You might want to start there. It’s also the closest port to Valorda.”

“Excellent. Don’t suppose you could furnish a boat, could you?” Terrill asked, trying to laugh off his request as a rather easy one to fulfill. The mayor shared in the laugh, easing whatever tension the talk of war had brought to the room.

“Of course. It wouldn’t do to not provide a ship for my ambassador.”

“Oh, I’m not-”

“Ambassador?” Terrill’s decline of the position and Floyd and Krysta’s simultaneous question added to the confusion, but the mayor’s knowing, twinkling smile never left his jovial face. Not even when he looked upon the one he tended to hate the most: Floyd. “Wait, what now?”

“I’d like to make you an ambassador, Floyd. Torry vouches highly enough for you, and the camaraderie you’ve formed with these two makes me believe you’re perfect for the role.” Terrill would have thought the mayor smarmy (and perhaps he still was), but he couldn’t fight the logic that the man had in making Floyd his ambassador. “You want to keep the Academy and Serotin safe, right?”

“Yeah, but our research…”

“Your research, I’m sure, will be waiting until after you’ve ascertained the state of things.”

Floyd glowered at the mayor, searching for any hint of a lie on the man’s face, but when he couldn’t find (or just didn’t care about) any ulterior motive, he let himself form an easy grin. Taking away his hands from his head, he held an official handshake out to the mayor. “Then I’ll gladly accept, your mayorship.”

“Do the office proud, Floyd.” It was the first time they had likely ever made peace, and Terrill shoved his hands in his pockets, glad that they weren’t causing further problems. It helped that Floyd, for all his impulsivities, was along for the ride. “Just stay out of trouble.”

“We’ll try,” Krysta said, roping Floyd in with an arm. “These boys are prone to it, so I’ll make sure they don’t do something foolish.”

“Yeah, so don’t you worry, mayor.”

“Be safe yourselves in the meantime…and watch out for that LeBrandon. I hear you guys still haven’t found him yet,” Terrill said. The mayor made another round of shaking hands, thanking them for their services.

“We will. I’m not concerned. With his band scattered, it’s only a matter of time before he has nowhere to go. But for the rest of you, I’ll send word ahead to Kirdon. You can find supplies waiting for you by the west gate, courtesy of my office.”

“Much appreciated.”

There were no words left to say; just the goal moving forward. With the mayor’s blessing, the three departed, escorted by the guards off the Academy lawn and into Serotin proper. Like the Academy, it was bustling with the same kind of activity, if a little more talkative about the recent events. Life hadn’t changed there, and it appeared, by all accounts, to be a good life; a life worth protecting.

“You’re sure you want to come along, Krysta. We don’t know what those Fiends are planning, after all. Getting caught up in the middle of this could be nasty,” Terrill asked of the girl. She kicked at some stones along the road as they wended their way towards the gate that would take them out of the city, hands shoved in her pockets while she considered a response. “Floyd and I clearly have our reasons, but so far you’ve just been along for the ride.”

“I have my reasons, too,” she said, cutting across him before he could make any more assumptions. “I don’t want to see another war, either. Not after the last one when…” She cleared her throat. “Well, there’s no telling what can happen. What about you, honestly? It’s not like this world is yours, right?”

“Maybe not,” Terrill admitted, but an easy smile found its way to his lips, “but whatever world I remember and this one are close enough to be one and the same. That Lifeblood told me as much, and one will affect the other, so my positive actions here will help people there, right?”

“Lifebloods, hm?” Krysta chortled a bit and shrugged. “I guess you could say that’s my reason: I want to know more of those Lifebloods. They’re along the same path as the rest of this, after all.”

“That’s a fair point,” Floyd said, biting into an apple that had appeared in his hand. Well, not “appeared” as they were near the west market, but he had certainly grabbed it from a guard that had been running to them during their conversation. Said guard looked confused when Floyd swiped the bags from him and shooed him off, handing them over. “That Clay guy, and Winifred and whatever those Fiends are were tied with it. We just don’t know if it plays into this war or whatnot. Either way, this is gonna be an interesting journey.”

“On that, you’re probably right,” Krysta admitted, slinging the extra bag on her shoulders and tightening the rapier on her waist. Terrill, too, took his, placing it with his sword before he threw his hand out. He was joined by the others.

“Interesting journey indeed, but not a picnic. We stick together as a team, and I think we’ll make it through. All three of us.”

“Room for a fourth?” Another hand slapped itself down upon their joined ones, causing all three to stare in shock. Floyd was the first to speak.

“Torr-!” The girl slapped her hand over Floyd’s mouth, the rest of his sentence lost to the muffles. Terrill and Krysta were in equal surprise, though perhaps more over her attire, which looked suited for traveling over the fineries of her usual life. It was similar to what she’d worn at Silicias, with a beret over her head and a vest that covered a loose shirt. It still looked fancier than the rest of their patched-up clothing, but she didn’t stand out too much. Floyd got his mouth free with a hiss of, “What are you doing here?”

“Honestly, Floyd, with everything going on and you off on an adventure, did you really think I wanted to sit around?” Torry flicked her hair behind her, revealing that she’d ditched the earrings she’d worn before. It was all the more proof she was ready for the adventure. “This is a chance to do what my mother couldn’t and explore the very foundations of magic, itself! You found one Lifeblood, so who’s to say what we can find at the others. It could help.”

“It won’t be an easy journey, you know,” Terrill said. He wasn’t frowning, but he crossed his arms as he looked at her. In the city behind, where she’d clearly snuck out from, there seemed to be a commotion, and Terrill already feared they’d made a mistake right out the gate.

“I’m not some pampered princess, Mr. Jacobs. I know how to fight and take care of myself,” Torry insisted with a huff. She even bounced her bag to prove it, showing a bow on her back that was hidden otherwise. “Besides, you saw what I could do at Devil’s Haven. I think I’d make a great asset to this team.”

It wasn’t like Terrill had much time to decide, as one of the guard’s voices rose above the din of the city with a call that confirmed his suspicions.

“Torry! Madam Rainert! Confound it, how did she go missing?”

“They move fast,” Krysta noted. Floyd looked to Terrill.

“More the merrier, I guess?”

Terrill wasn’t sure how to take that, but Torry wasn’t taking no for an answer.

In that moment, he was fine with that.

“Welcome to the team.” She beamed at him, and they faced the gate together. “All right, then, let’s move on to Kirdon, and the country of Valorda beyond!”

Together, they departed the west gate before the soldiers could arrive, beginning the next stage of their journey together.

Of all the breezes she’d felt in the world, the kind Winifred hated the most was the breeze that came from the sea.

It was cold, unforgiving, and did nothing but take and take.

Standing in the ruins of Devil’s Haven, after the soldiers of Serotin had officially pulled out, proved that all the more. It was desolate, with the charred husks of ships floating on the water, and pieces of metal still falling from above, where they’d hung loosely. With a sigh, Winifred, reached for her locket, opening its clasp to stare at the picture inside.

“Fifteen years… I’m close now.”

The sound of something moving came from behind, and Winifred cocked her head in its direction. She stowed the locket away, but didn’t move from her spot as a spout of water erupted from the ground, blasting aside the rubble. A loud gasp followed, and its owner began to crawl out of the hole he’d huddled in for days to escape the judgment of the mayor. He pulled himself onto the ground, gasping and heaving for air until he looked up and saw her standing there.

“You!” The sound of scattered wood showed him scrambling to charge at her, his beastly intensity gone. “You liar! You said I’d be kin-”

She barely even moved a muscle to flick a pocket of air at him that drove through his unwounded shoulder. He gagged, but didn’t stop running until he collided with a wall of red earth that appeared between him and Winifred. She scoffed, watching as more walls emerged from the ground to encase the once great LeBrandon…if he could have ever been considered great to begin with.

“Your method with him was dangerous, Winifred.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, Clay!” she snapped to the bearded man that appeared in a rush of stones, cloak and all. He had a hand against his walls, where LeBrandon was beating himself against them in an attempt to break out. “I did what you asked. I got it to manifest here, didn’t I? I found him, didn’t I? My methods are mine.”

“Your reckless methods.” Clay had reached her, placing a hand upon her shoulder that she immediately threw off. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you weren’t committed to the cause. Perhaps you’re trying to find a place to die.”

“Feh, as if I could.”

“Ha hoh hoh!” The booming chortle irked Winifred more than anything before, making her spit towards the ground like a bad taste had invaded. A rush of flames split the air, along with whirling water, and two more men appeared in the ruins. The one who had laughed was clad in a monk’s robe with flaming orange hair, his hands clasped. He approached Winifred with a smile, one that she didn’t trust one whit. “You must admit, your method was very dangerous, Winnie.”

“Shut it, Blaise! And don’t you say a word, Warren!” The last man, a bespectacled one clad in the armor of a soldier, inclined his head in her direction. “Great, the gang’s all here…”

“Indeed, we are. And I must be the arbiter of all things fair, milady,” Warren spoke, his speech deliberate. She scowled at his implications. He always did know how to drive the knife in, all thanks to his own experiences. “You nearly exposed the grand stage of our ambitions to that boy.”

“I left him a trail of breadcrumbs.”

“A trail too large, I must say. What will you do if he discovers things before-”

“It’s too late to change that now.” This voice was the most commanding of them all, causing all four to seize up, as if a string had pulled them taut. Winifred, herself, felt like retching. The trickle of stones and the brushing aside of wooden planks was heard with their fifth member approaching. “Terrill will move as he always has. Whether he discovers things is irrelevant. That’s what makes him such a good Guardian. Besides, he already seems aware of his place in this otherworld, seeing it as best to protect it, just like he would his own. And as he should. Because of that, we’ll let him move as he pleases…within reason.”

“It seems a mite risky, doesn’t it, O’ Shadow King.” Clay’s voice could not have been more sardonic, a fact that the newcomer picked up on.

Flicking his ashen-blond hair behind him, the boy stared down at the ground, his chuckle sending chills down even Winifred’s spine. “The shadow has already taken root. Terrill can’t stop that now. But do be careful, my Fiends, to not reveal anything more damning.”

“Of course not. We’d not have our revenge otherwise.”

“Leave me out of your revenge, Warren. I’m only in this because I don’t have a choice.”

“Yet you seem so enthusiastic, Winifred!” Blaise shouted, his pleasure in her expressed pain all too evident. How she wished to run him through. “What are your orders, ‘Shadow King Atrum’?”

The boy, Atrum, the one known as Terrill’s friend, sat himself upon a piece of rubble, looking at Clay’s construction that contained LeBrandon while he considered his thoughts. He had not long to consider them, as Winifred was quick to notice the stone cracking, pressurized water breaking through to free LeBrandon. Not once did Atrum look up.

“You’re the Shadow King?! You?! A mere boy! The one who stole everything from me! Die!” LeBrandon lunged out of the broken stones, only to be caught by Blaise, who held him with one hand by his face. “Let me-”

“You must have been blessed by the goddess to have had such a handsome face once, until the hero burned you. Such a pity,” Blaise said, clicking his lips as though chastising him. Winifred looked away, knowing that which would come next. “How foolish the believers are, though, to think the goddess does not also take away, leaving you a disfigured mess. But fear not, when I am done immolating you, both body and soul, there will be nothing left, disfigured or otherwise.”

“What the hell?!” LeBrandon roared, but no matter how much he kicked, he could not break free. “The hell are you people?!”

“People?” Blaise’s grin could be felt without being seen. “Oh no. You’ve seen the other side of hell here, my friend. We’re Fiends.

“Goodbye.”

The flames erupted, scorching the very sky with their dark and impartial cruelty. LeBrandon burned, his voice melting into it as he screamed of nothing but the illusion of dragons and wicked men, until, as the sun rose, there was nothing left of him but cindered ash. Not even his soul.

It was then, Atrum had made his decision, leaning back as his Fiends awaited his orders, ones that could not be refused.

“Continue your missions as directed. In time, Terrill’s journey will bear its fruit. Shadow will become darkness incarnate, and we shall be free.” Atrum stood, but no longer faced them, walking away from the sunrise, hands in his pockets and his cloak billowing in that nasty sea breeze.

And before he vanished, his commands rang out, commands that spelled the ending of an age for the world. “Make the ‘prophecy’ true. Let the Shadow King clash with the hero.

“Let’s bring this world’s design to naught but smoldering ash.”

TO BE CONTINUED