TRC - Searching for the Sky Ch. 22

I just want to say a couple of things before we jump into the story.

First off, I hope that everyone is being safe as we make our way through this worldwide crisis. I have thousands of regular readers now, and while I may not know every one of you I hate the idea that any of you, or the people you care about, may be suffering because of the virus.

Second, I sincerely apologize for the delay in putting up this chapter. Many people's lives have been severely disrupted by COVID-19, mine has been no different. Now that things are falling into a sort of rhythm hopefully there won't be any more delays.

Third, be good to one another. I'm not a religious man myself but for the Christians out there remember that most of Jesus's message was just that. I have been hearing numerous stories of how the forced togetherness has been difficult on relationships. Extroverts unable to be themselves out in the world while the introverts are stuck being the sole target of their extrovert s/o's attention. (I've had to lock my office door and put on headphones more than once in the past couple of weeks.)

Lastly, (you'll have to imagine this being in large, friendly orange letters) Don't Panic. Pickings have been slim at the grocery but only rarely have I seen empty shelves through all of this, (I'm sure you all can guess which ones those were) but here where I live supply chains are already recovering. Demand has swung wildly because of everything going on and it's natural that it will take some time to balance back out. Be patient, things may be rough for a while but I truly believe it will get better.

I don't plan on bringing any of this up again. Going forward I hope that my story can be a bit of a bastion from the happenings around us.

Take care and enjoy.

-Blu

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Edited by: Oldfart and 2muchdiggity

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Chapter 22

Kal wasn't terribly excited about Sir Balthus's decision to conduct their 'trade' in the outpost's dining room.

It was his own fault, really. He mentioned to the knight that he would have preferred to get the entire rune done at the same time. Instead, he would have to work in sections because of how large it was. When Balthus asked why, Kal replied that they would need a fair amount of space to lay out the parchment.

A few minutes later they caught up with the rest of Kal's party standing and waiting in front of the entrance to the plains. Unexpectedly, Sir Balthus dismounted and beckoned the young mage to follow, leading him through a side door located just in front of the large wooden gate. The knight strode into the outpost's small dining hall with all the subtlety of a charging bull. In a booming voice, he declared that he was in a rush and demanded that they clear the room's lone table for his use.

Half of the men still had their mouths filled with breakfast as they stared in shock at the knight. It took a moment for the ranking soldier to get his wits about him and notice their visitor's robes. In a panic, he started barking orders at the others and finally got everyone up and moving. The men grabbed their plates and cups and stepped back against the narrow room's walls. Within seconds, the table was cleared. The soldier then apologized profusely to the knight for the delay in following orders.

Balthus patted the man on the shoulder to allay the soldier's fear before turning to Kal. "Will this be enough room?"

"So much for being able to go back to the city," Kal grumbled. Performing magic in front of all these men was certain to get back to Lantaris.

He then had Ria retrieve four pieces of parchment and his normal inkwell. The knight's arm was so badly burnt he expected the ink to need refreshing before placing the rune on the parchment. "Before we start I just want to be sure you want to do this. If I remember correctly, you've had that rune on your arm since you were a squire."

The knight nodded. "I appreciate your concern and your keen memory." He held up his arm, "The truth is that this has brought more heartache to my life than I care to speak of. Though it was indispensable when needed, only a handful of times did it prove any better than a shield of good, strong steel. Now that I am at the academy, my adventuring days are mostly done, much to my wife's delight. Rest assured, I will be happy to be rid of it."

"Then why wait for me? I'm certain that one of the priests or priestesses could have done this," Kal asked as he laid out the parchment. No sooner had the mage spoke then he realized that may not be true. The spell he was about to use was especially designed for manipulating magical inks, he doubted the church would have any real use for such magic. Well, maybe a scribe.

Balthus raised an eyebrow. "And let them gloat about how I should never have put my faith in heathen magics? Not on your life young man."

A murmur of agreement ran through the men around them and Kal looked about the room, surprised. "I thought I heard the Order didn't like magic," said the mage.

"There have been numerous instances of greediness and squabbles breaking out over enchanted armor or weapons. We want no part of such disagreements and publicly we have divorced ourselves from them. However," Balthus grinned wide as he looked around the room, "soldiers aren't fools. Unless the item is blatantly magical, perhaps a blade is glowing or a zweihander you can swing like a dagger, the Order turns a blind eye to our soldiers having magical items."

He suddenly turned to the other men in the room. "Amnesty! None in this room shall speak of what they see or hear in this room! Do any of you have a magical weapon?"

An archer claimed to have bought a high-quality bow which he believed had a minor enchantment. The bow was exceptionally sturdy and never seemed to need polish or any of the normal care required. While on duty one day, he leaned it up against a wall where another archer tripped over it. Also leaning against the wall nearby was one of the generic swords the soldiers used. The bow fell against it and the and the bowstring bounced against the edge numerous times on the way down but managed to survive without a mark or fray.

While the man told his story, Kal inspected Sir Balthus's outstretched arm, looking for a dividing line to start from. The flowing design was seamless, and the mage realized he would have to split it in a straight line and piece the cut sigils back together before transferring it to the parchment.

Holding up a hand, he called for silence. The mage was feeling more nervous about this than he let on as he drew the rune to lift the ink from the knight's arm. Previously, he had only moved runes from one flat surface to another. He hoped that there weren't any special tricks he needed to know about when dealing with designs that were cylindrical like this. Luckily, he just needed to work his way slowly around the arm, lifting the ink then holding it in place with the telekinesis cantrip.

"Don't move," said the mage when he finally came back around to his starting point. He slowly unfolded the rune into a flat rectangle then carefully moved the cut parts around until all the sigils were whole once again. A few drops of ink from his inkwell was enough to refresh the entire rune before he placed it upon the laid-out parchment. He overestimated its final size and only needed two pieces to fit the entire rune instead of all four. At some point during the process, the rest of his party came in, curious as to what was taking them so long. At the sight of the man's heathen magic, the priestess turned on her heel and left in a huff.

Taking a deep breath, Kal stood up straight once the complex design was safely on paper. Rotating his shoulders and stretching his neck to one side then the other, he attempted to release some of the tension that had built up during the process.

"Ria," he called. A moment later the sprite appeared and flitted up to his shoulder. "I need one of the advanced potions for scarring."

"With the healing potion or without?"

"I don't believe he is in any need of healing at the moment. Without will do."

Nodding, Ria waved her hand and a mote of light floated to the mage's palm and turned into a small vial. Pushing some magic into it, the concoction inside went from clear to glowing light blue.

"There you are, Sir Balthus," he said, handing the vial to the knight.

"Much obliged, young man," Blathus glanced toward the door. "Good thing she left, I would regret having to hear about using a healing potion not made by the church." Sir Balthus hesitated for a moment. "You're certain this is safe?"

"I'd give it to my own children."

"Fair enough," said the knight before downing the vial's contents. He smacked his lips together a couple of times as he handed the empty vial back to Kal, who in turn gave it to Ria for storage. "Certainly not as tasty as a healing potion but not nearly as bad as darkvision."

Kal pulled a face at the memory of drinking a darkvision potion, as did a couple of the older soldiers and the fighter. The thief just shrugged; he drank so many of the potions when he was younger that the taste hardly bothered him. Although, he was still very thankful for the ring he'd acquired that gave him the same ability.

Kal stored the parchments with the knight's rune once the ink was dry then Sir Balthus invited the soldiers to sit down and finish their meals. Most of them hadn't eaten another bite, just holding their plates and cups as the knight and mage took care of their business. Balthus sat down on the end of one of the bench seats then indicated that Kal should do the same. He was going to refuse when the fighter and thief from his party walked past him and sat down as well.

"I'm amazed and a little saddened that such a potion came from a wizard and not one of our priests," said the knight

Kal finally acquiesced and sat. "Sadly, I get the impression the church is more interested in maintaining a standard than improving things. Healing spells and potions work with little scarring and the number of people who would need something like this is probably very small, so I imagine there is little drive for research. It seems as though the man who came up with this potion spent most of his life researching the healing process. He was looking for a 'perfect' potion that would leave no scars at all. I opted for the 'less than perfect' version that I could actually get the ingredients for. Even those were hard to obtain and quite expensive."

"If I may ask, what prompted you to create this?"

"Barbed crystal spear to the chest," he said tapping a spot below his right collarbone, "It couldn't go all the way through, so it had to come out the way it went in. It took some of me with it and healing spells can't replace what's lost. I hated the scar it left behind so I started doing some research."

"Crystal spear? I'm afraid I will have to return to my previous decision and refrain from asking about your past. I have a feeling we could be here for days. Perhaps if I may inquire about your future? What business do you have out in the plains?"

"Unfortunately, I can't say. The priestess has us under an oath of secrecy."

One of the older soldiers piped up. "If ya see whatever killed the cavalry company my boy was in, be sure to take their head from their body, same as they took my boy from me."

Kal bent over the table like he had been punched in the gut, tears immediately springing to his eyes.

"Kal! Are you alright?!" said Sir Balthus, getting up from his seat then stopping when the mage held up a hand.

"I'll be fine," he said wiping the tears away with one of his sleeves. "My son was born a little over a month ago. The thought of losing Talin and going through what he is," the mage dipped his head in the soldier's direction, "hit me pretty hard."

There was a long uncomfortable pause before the soldier spoke up again

"I don't care what the church says about how cold and heartless wizards are, a reaction like that can't be faked. After taking care of your arm, Sir Balthus, and seein' what just happened, mage or not, the boy's alright by me."

Kal smiled weakly in thanks. He really wished that hadn't happened while he was in the midst of a large group of men, and one woman, but there was little he could do about it now. Luckily, all he had to do was nod toward Sir Balthus's arm to draw everyone's attention away from him.

"Goodness!" exclaimed the knight as the potion took effect. The scars began shifting around, smoothing out the area. Balthus repeatedly clenched his hand, "Oh my, that is uncomfortable." Kal hadn't noticed that part of the potion's effects because none of his scars were very large.

"The potion has to figure out what the scarred area is supposed to look like before going to work, hence the long delay," explained Kal. "The man discovered that scars are the body's glue after an injury. Your body doesn't care how pretty it is, just that it gets things closed up quickly, so you don't get an infection. This version doesn't get rid of the underlying scar but changes the top layers of skin back to normal." He touched the spot on his chest, "I can still feel a little bit of hardness below where I was struck with the spear but there's no way to tell it's there just from looking."

Sir Balthus hissed and began scratching his arm as hair began sprouting from the repaired skin. "Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed, then immediately looked around the room, embarrassed. "My apologies gentlemen and lady, you should never have had to hear such words from me."

"I think I need to apologize as well," said Kal. "Had I known about this part I would have warned you beforehand. My scars were much smaller."

"No matter," said the knight. The itching quickly passed and he was now holding out both arms, inspecting them. Other than where he had scratched, there was almost no way to tell the rune or scars had ever been there. He ran a hand over each to compare them and nodded. "I see what you mean, this arm feels 'tighter' below the surface."

Balthus looked up at Kal, "I understand that this was a trade, yet I still feel as though I am in your debt. You received a piece of magic that you already possess in exchange for ridding me of that rune and restoring my arm. I'll add your name to the rolls of those invited to the Academy. Should you encounter a situation in which I am uniquely suited to assist, then don't hesitate to stop by my offices at the Academy or my estate in the upper city."

Kal's face suddenly turned into an evil grin.

"Perhaps I was mistaken in my offer," said the knight worriedly.

Kal waved off Balthus's concerns, chuckling, "No, I was just thinking about how surprised the guard at the inner wall is going to be when I show up with an invitation instead of two gold."

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Sir Balthus watched the mage and his party ride off into the plains. The hinges of the seldom used wooden gate squealed as Jamus and another of the outpost's soldiers pushed it closed. The knight looked down at his arm, still amazed at how this day had turned out.

None of it would have happened if Jamus hadn't seen Galen striding purposefully toward the stables that morning as he prepared to head out to the wall for another day of his punishment. Instead of just letting it pass, the squire felt he should go find his master and tell him about it. The barracks were just outside the palace grounds and it was a short ride to Sir Balthus's estate in the upper city. Only a few minutes had passed when Jamus was on the knight's doorstep explaining what he saw.

He still couldn't explain why, but he knew this was important and had the young man ready his horse while he changed into his instructor's robes. There was no time for putting on armor.

Because his squire followed his intuition earlier that morning, his arm was now restored. The sight as he looked down at them was one he hadn't witnessed since he was much younger, and one he never expected to see again.

"Jamus!" he called out.

The squire was over by the sword rack testing out the cheaply made blades on hand for one decent enough to wear for his shift. The young man had been in such a hurry he'd left his own sword lying in the stable. He'd forgotten to grab it in his haste to get his horse saddled so he could inform his master about Galen. Jamus was so startled by the knight's call he nearly dropped the sword in his hand. Quickly recovering, he turned toward Sir Balthus.

"I believe your actions today were sufficient to mitigate your punishment and say that your service on the wall thus far is adequate. Mount up." The knight suppressed a smile as the young man excitedly replaced the sword on the rack and ran toward the stables.

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Once the outpost and wall disappeared in the distance behind them, the priestess slowed them down to a walk. After that, it didn't take long for all the exertion and excitement to take its toll on the mage. Within an hour he had Ria store his saddle and draped himself across his mare's back with his head up by her neck and an arm and leg on each side as he napped. The priestess tried to up their pace to a trot when she saw the mage sleeping but the thief and fighter stayed by Kal and glared at the woman until she fell back in line. Despite her spellcasting prowess, finding herself alone in an ocean of grass with her party too far back to help if she were ambushed was a frightening experience, to say the least.

"You should be keeping up," she snarled when she returned to the other three.

The fighter shook her head. "Nay, ya shouldn't be running off like that. It's a good way to get us all killed. I'll be takin' point from here out, cleric stays in the back an' outa danger."

"I'll not be led or ordered around by some ruffian!" sneered the priestess.

The thief cocked his head to one side. "You actually haven't done this before, have you?"

Elden pursed her lips tightly together. The main reason she had been handed this task was her lack of combat experience and work out in the field. When most other clerics were out traveling and doing missionary work, she elected to keep close to Lantaris. Unfortunately, her lack of practical experience was holding her back and she was at risk of being passed up for promotion when the current abbot of the western cathedral retired.

"I woulda thought that'd be obvious," said the fighter. "No one who has done this before rides off alone like that. Since our lives are tied ta yours, I'd be thankful if you treated it with a little more respect. I don't care for the idea of dying 'cause some ditzy bitch has her head up her arse."

"I am a priestess of—"

"Nobody gives a fuck out here, cleric. Spike traps don't care if you just fed a starving village and falling ceilings don't care if you just saved a bunch of orphans. A gryphon will eat your liver as quickly as it would mine. Your titles don't mean shit out here, only your abilities. I'll tell ya now. If our swordswoman dies because you chose not to help her, I'll slit your throat myself knowing it'll kill me too."

"Same goes the other way too, cleric," interjected the fighter. "That way, not only do our lives depend on yours, but yours depends on keeping us alive as well."

"Are you threatening—?"

"Aye, we are. Normally you go outta your way to not piss off the cleric when you're out like this. It's sad that with your sorry-arsed attitude, we can't be sure you won't let one of us die outta spite," said the other woman. "You keep us alive or we all die together. That's how things work out here beyond the walls."

Still seething, the priestess retreated to a rear position. She was extremely perturbed the other two felt that, out of the four of them, she would be the one to not pull her weight. Elden was also quietly chastened by the realization that they were probably right. Despite the power of her spells and her rank in the church, she likely had the least experience. No, after the mage's fight with Galen it was a certainty that she had the least experience.