Spring time is busy. There is much to do at camp so today after I did my work I went about camp to catch up on personal tasks. My first stop was at the communications office. post. post office is what it is called. The wizard in charge is named Scoria and I am to assume that despite covering her eyes she is good at magic. Maybe in Burach that is something communication wizards do as a show of prowess. I brought my book to transcribe spells. The walnut ink and the mica paper take time to craft, I am lucky that I have extras as well as the tools to add leaves of paper into the book.
When I arrived there was a clerk in the small front desk area, they charge for usage and take mundane letters. The teller is one of the bunch who can read and write here. Their name escapes me I'm afraid, they're the one related to the soldier, the sister who acts tough. Forgive me for forgetting your name, all of the Burach names blend together... I gave her a little nod, I went to the backroom for my meeting. Scoria waited, seated at her table, that little trick to pull the chair was used to give me a seat.
I put my book on the table for her to, well to look at, so she knew my intentions were genuine but now that I think of it I'm not sure how she knew to acknowledge it. More magic must be employed to allow her sight. She accepted my sign and put the comms book on the table.
I let her know first and foremost that I did not have coin to trade her for the time or trouble but I was informed that the expenses of the post were paid by Lady Alten. I owe her another favor it seems, I just cant seem to get away from her debts. With my expenses cared for I could copy spells to my hearts content. I offered a favor to scoria as well, it didn't feel right not to do good by her. she refused me.
Scoria is a woman of few words in most cases, she seems to be a long lived race, one who had long grown tired of the language arts. My own professor of long lived race some times seemed the same until the right topic was struck. I flipped the book of spells and she gave explanation of them. Some were ones I knew and in fact the two I needed where present here. The spell of messages and the spell of sending. Useful for my line of work, I could not always be in camp to chat with the leadership here, nor could I take my son with me. Yasera is already in such danger, Hands need not be.
Scoria also instructed me of the spell Communication. A long range connection of elongated length, can be used to communicate for long periods of time but is more and more intercept-able the longer it is used. In the future I could use this, I made mental note of its existence.
I asked if the connection can be used to connect to anyone and scoria corrected me. Any one in Burach. I asked if she could reach Ostoya, she tried to tell me I could perhaps contact the border of Burach. but no, I want to talk to my family, not the border.
The Burach military keeps the border of the Greyspine tightly locked with magical barriers to keep communication tight. She doesn't have the legal right to talk with my family. She could be charged with treason. I hate the distance between me and my home so much, especially when it is mere inches as it seemed in that moment. It would be immoral of me to force scoria, and I am not such a powerful man that I could. I let the topic go. I finished scribing my spells.
I offered my services again. A favor for her time, for pressing her on the topic of communication with Ostoya. She did have something to ask of me this time. she was curious about Ulmyrs Gate. She had also been a student before it was taken away. She was looking for an old professor of hers, a man I was acquainted with, one "Lord Emerich Albritch" from the barony of Albritch in Urlfort. He was a nice man and an expert in communications as far as I knew. He was gone into the ethereal, hadn't returned like others had.
Other professors had returned, even one who spent a month in the hells. He was currently being kept and "debriefed". Sounded as though he might be a prisoner to me. I wonder what he might be telling the Burach government about that strange place, it also occurred to me that the victims of the accident at Ulmyrs Gate may not all have gone to the ethereal plane, many may have gone to planes that could have killed them instantly. Maybe that's why we've seen so few.
If if wanted to get in contact with anyone in Ostoya, I would need access to a person who could help me send secure messages, or so scoria says. I don't see why an Ostoyan man can't write home to his family, I will try to reach my mother soon as I am able. Scoria insisted that if I wanted to see more of "my kind" there is a conclave the disembodied in a village town to the north along the coast. Maybe Burach folk do not know the importance of blood to Ostoyans. I told her I did not want to be with the others, I wanted to go home.
Then she asked me what I remembered. It was hard to explain to another what I've learned about *The Dream*, about *Ayatain* and her want for children, about the memories I gave away so that I might return home, what those spaces and refuges are like out there in the planes beyond. So I gave her the abridged version. She wasn't content to just listen. Hearing about the planes beyond gave her ideas. Look for the survivors, tell everyone what was there. I had to warn her. The ethereal is dangerous, the refuges are full of persons who aren't human, who are beyond it. Those who stay there can become like those terrible creatures, or like the children of Ulmyrs Gate, forever changed.
Mercy above she had never heard of the children. I regretted my telling her. I wasn't sure I should speak of the children to those who didn't know of them. I already knew their power was coveted. They are not like ordinary beings, powerful beyond measure, vulnerable more so than other children.
I didn't want to tell her, I warned her it would be burdensome, that if she spoke of the children unsavory types might come for her. She wanted to know, in that way she was like me. I was ready to whisper but luckily for us Scoria had a device to secure the area from prying eyes and ears. So I told her. I told her almost all of it.
The women, the children, the blossoming deaths, the peoples who now search for these children to use for nefarious purposes. She was shocked to say the least. She didn't want to accept it. She didn't want to leave it alone. In her grasping and clawing she finally told me the census data did match, after that she insisted that we tell the authorities. I do not trust the crown of Burach more than I trust the bloodsuckers in Ostoya. It asked if she thought the children would be kept safe, given happy homes and normal lives, if she thought the crown would leave them be and not use them for their own sinister purposes. I pressed the thoughts that the power of these children might be used to subjugate. In the end she gave in. She knew just as well as I how those in power operate.
The topic made me itchy. I got up to give my good byes and when I went I apologized for burdening her with this. Somberly, she showed me the door and went back to her work.
Walking into the street again I called out to my daughter. Not with my words of course, I knew she was nearby. In my mind her voice came, we were connected by the shadow as always. She didn't seem bothered by that conversation, I was glad but worried. Treading on the topic frequently was sure to lead to increased anxiety, but maybe she was already at peace with her status as sick prize and tool to the outside world. At least here she could be my darling daughter. It was her choice to go see Hyganthe next, but it would have been mine as well.
We walked the muddy path to the great hall hand in hand. It was lunch. The stew pot was busy, Hyganthe gave her spot of the pedestal to Misery so we could speak. Of course the first topic I needed to broach was one of my new nickname among the folk.
"How long have the folk called me, Leader?" I asked.
"It took you this long to notice I call you- I mean they call you that?"
Terrible terrible. It's what I love about her. We talked about rumors and hearsay for a good while. Mercy how I've missed it. She knew all the goings on and I promised her news right from my mouth if she told me all I wanted to know. Of course we talked about Cassius, or "Wonderboy" as the folk call him, and his status as camp hero. Then hyganthe asked about the hunt. Apparently it was obvious that the early call to bed was covering something up. I thought up a lie and I was proud of how quick and plausible it was. Adrian saw a ghost, and I took him seriously. she believed me, thank the lord of magic.
She congratulated me on being in charge and taking control of the situation. I told her it was shameful of a Burach camp to be run by an Ostoyan. She told me that the way I held myself was typical of the rest of my people."Anyone can look at you and see it."
To my dismay Yasera confirmed this. How? What part of me looked so Ostoyan? Neither would tell.
I was about to sit and eat when Hyganthe pulled me aside, quietly she told me that the woods were buzzing still. Something lurked. I knew it was the Hunt Mother, unsatisfied, I promised Hyganthe I would keep my eye out for ghosts....
After lunch I visited Amyr, she was well, needed nothing from me. Then I went to look for My Cassius, where ever he might be showboating and doing heroics. He was in the Ring of course, trouncing a few recruits on horse back. I had never noticed how well he rode, like a falcon quick and true, powerful as a wave cresting. The three men had no chance of besting him of course, few ever did. I never interrupted his training. I would belothe to keep him from important work. When he spied me lurking he ran over, in some ways he was like a child or even a loyal dog. His bright expression made my heart surge. I'm certain the grip I kept on my own thoughts slipped, Yasera was privy to every lovestruck verse of song that poured in. I did have important questions for him, they took a brief flight while my dumbstruck mouth caught up.
He asked what I needed and I told him about a worry I had. The Burach customs of birthdays were quite foreign to me, and I had never met any members of his family. How would he like me to be? Whom should I introduce myself as? Of course he did not understand what I meant at first, he rarely did. Should I tell them I am his lover or should I hide?
He did not understand again, but this time I saw why. Cassius must have never been taunted so harshly as I was, nor did he see our love as wrong. He knew it to be true and thus expected others to do the same. Bold, he was bold or maybe stupid.
I agreed to act the way he expected. If anything I could be brave in his presence. How my mind spun with exciting fantasies of his celebration, dancing together as lovers should. I asked my next round of questions. how should I dress, what usually happened?
It was then I learned a fascinating little chain of details. My Cassuis was well versed in the fashions of Ostoya, one of his sisters had an interest of the men of my country, and he knew exactly how the fashions should be. The modern fashions, not the fashions I knew of course. my own ideas of the times were so late, the world was new. My home changed without me. Thankfully My Sweet Chosen had plenty to say on the topic, and a few complaints about needing to endure his sisters flights of fancy. I offered to introduce her to Mikhail, but apparently the girl is already promised. Cassuis mentioned his sisters interests in the way Ostoyan clothes emphasized a mans form and I asked if he also had an interest in the men of my country. Not in particular it seemed, a shame I did not have something to tease him over. I might have been able to persuade him into our bed with my new knowledge, as far as I knew Cassius developed interests as I introduced my own. He was dizzyingly flexible in this regard.
With those thoughts in mind I asked him if he wanted another gift for his birthday or if, maybe, perhaps, he wanted something else? He thought a moment, I suddenly worried I would need to explain my meaning, and asked for a night under the stars. Discussing home, learning all of my innerworkings. He tugged right at my heart strings with that one. I could tell him so much about me, I could demonstrate even more. I was tempted to grab him then and there, drag him away to a private place, just barely I kept myself in control.
Yes, a night under the stars would be lovely.
Satisfied, he went back to his business. I watched him go, longing for more of him. Then when he was finally out of sight I reclaimed my own mind. I apologized to Yasera for bombarding her with my indecent yearning. She of course said she didn't mind, like always she makes herself agreeable to me.
Finally as the midday waned to evening I went to see my son. Hands was at the forge with Yuuharil and Pelton. He worked the bellows as best a 12 year old could and was instructed in the ways of working the metal. His eyes wide, dark with curiosity. I relished the joy of discovery I saw in him, the voracious hunger underneath it, the passion and drive.
He was let rest and I asked about his learning. Of course he is happy, overjoyed to learn about the crafts. Pelton had taught him of the more technical works today and he was excited to try them.
Pelton then took me aside. He had an urgency to him that made me worry, and there was much to worry about. He told me of the child's growth and the ceiling he may hit soon without more skilled teachers to guide him. The child already surpassed his own skill on the forge and had branched out in the other talents, the fiber arts, wood and stone works, building and engineering. Apparently without my knowledge Hands had made and given away a quilt made from the garb age in the tailors house, I had been so embarrassed to ask for it, I cant believe that's where it went. He recommended that the artisans in the southern regions could be the ones to train him further. Dread sank in my stomach. The southern regions were at war with the northern, not to mention miles and days of travel away. Too far for me to see him much more than once a year. I couldn't bear to let him away for that long. I needed to know of his safety, his comfort. My thoughts went inevitably to my mother, her intense suspicion of my desire to leave home and the endless letters begging my return. She must have felt much worse at my departure. I felt sick. I thought of Yasera and the way she clung to my shadow, she must feel the same whenever I go without her.
Pelton was sympathetic, who wouldn't be, but told me I needed to think on it now. If he were to out grow his talents here, there was a risk that he may bore and perhaps his skill would wither on the vine.
I went back to my children. I told hands I was proud of his efforts, I promised more for him to do soon. I told Yasera I was happy for her company and we went home to rest. There was much for me to think about and do still and I thought best when I could pace the floor of our little home.
In the future I would ask Vulcan for her further help. I knew of one artisan who was above them all and it was her. Of course I owed her much already, I could find more to give, she needed help with her dangerous experiments, help I often gave, and of course she needed spell power, someone to channel numa to her devices. Hopefully my continued service could suffice the trouble of taking on an knowledge hungry apprentice.
With that decided, I closed the book on this day, 7th Solar Aurelia 753