“Before the Autumn harvest of E1087, his grace Caellach Fau…Fauror dis…Uhm, disbanded the Council of Ten by Rite of Fire…Um, what does Althalos mean by that?”
Adrian looked over her shoulder. Although it was still inarguably terrible, her handwriting was improving, and Veleria was also beginning to catch on less words overall. He skimmed the page she was on.
“It’s a nice way of saying that Caellach burned them all.” He said.
“Oh, right. Yeah.” Veleria tapped the feather on her quill against her chin. She found her spot again, and continued. “Following the diss—uhm—disso—uh—dissolution of the council, King Fauror burned himself.”
“Guy killed his handlers then offed himself.” Adrian leaned into the headrest of Veleria’s bed. He absentmindedly scratched at his exposed chest. He watched her draw a few more things on the parchment beside her, letting his eyes wander from the subtle pull of her deltoids to the minor, but noticeable bounce of her breasts. After lingering a moment more, he closed his eyes and mentally berated himself.
Veleria, meanwhile, had made a connection. The plaque at the cathedral came to mind.
Blood and fire.
Drawing a line between these two words, she recalled what she had heard during their escape from Caed.
Never again will we be caged and shackled.
She wrote down a few connections before turning towards the man lying behind her. Adrian raised his knee slightly in response.
“Why do you think he killed himself?” She asked him, setting the parchment aside to turn her entire body towards him.
“That’s one hell of a question, Vel, and one I think only Cromwell can give a real answer to.” Behind the cover of his thigh he made some adjustments before kicking his feet back out. “Personally though, given what little we know, I don’t think he liked being made a God. He murdered the people who hurt him and then took his own life. Couldn’t face his own weakness.”
“You dare—“ Veleria placed a hand against her chest. The burn was short lived, and she caught herself before she could continue speaking. Had he struck a nerve? She looked to Adrian whose brow was raised. “You might be right. Even so, burning alive sounds horrible.”
“I’d say it’s one of the worst ways to die.” He said, rolling over and onto his feet. Grabbing his pack, he took out a shirt and his armor and started getting dressed. “You’ve made a lot of progress. How about we get something to eat? I’m parched, too.”
Shrugging, Veleria assisted him. Once he was armored and Veleria had hidden a few knives, the two left and started their exploration of another small town, this one going by the name of Oakridge. She was surprised by how quickly an entire month had passed. They were well within dangerous territory now. With each step they took she kept a look out for anyone she could recognize, and now especially for Caed. He was someone she never wanted to see again.
Caed hated cheaters. Thanking his rival for the cigarette they offered him, he closed his palm over the paper cylinder, lit it between his fingers, and then reviewed the information his eye revealed. The seedy little bastard doling out the cards had slipped an extra into his own deck. It was one of those old, stupidly amateur moves that Caed would have missed if the guy hadn’t been cordial enough to touch his hand during the smokes transfer.
He puffed a few weak rings and played a few hands. Lost his lunch money. It was during the third game that he had a minor epiphany and one hell of a brief headache. In front of him, the dealer was pulling the same move again. Except, Caed hadn’t touched the fucker. He stared at the dirty little man through the dark filter of his glasses. Three key pairs in his hand. But there was more. Back in some dingy home, Caed could see a broken wife that had been beaten more than once. Dead cats in garbage piles. A scared mutt snapping at passersby. He almost lost his composure as the visions flooded his mind.
Then, his headache subsided and the putrid images ceased.
“Cold feet?” The dealer snickered.
Caed could have sneered. Instead, he plastered a grin on his face.
“Nah, I got something I need’ta take care of. Keep the change.”
He slapped both hands on his knees and stood up from the moldering box he’d used as a seat. While he walked off he snapped his fingers, whistled a little tune, and didn’t bother himself with the events that played out behind him. A dislodged shingle from the roof of the business he and the man had played behind slid off and domed the dealer, killing him instantly. As a result, the man’s dented head collided with the makeshift table they’d played on, and Caed’s gold coins briefly went airborne. He waved his hand and the tender flew into his palm.
Lunch time, the mage thought.
It only took him a moment to find a place. A glance of black hair neatly tied with a red ribbon guided him, and Caed was only too happy to overpay for an apple and some bread so long as he could remain hidden behind the seller’s stall.
He was unpleasantly surprised to find that Veleria’s male companion was infamous.
“Okay, I know you don’t really get hungry but they actually have something I think you should try.” Adrian traded silver for a deep-purple fruit that Veleria had never seen before.
“What is it?” She asked, her eyes on the thing while Adrian dropped it into her open palms. Rolling it over in her palm, she took it between her fingers and sniffed it. There wasn’t an intense scent or anything otherwise remotely interesting about it.
Adrian leaned into the wall of a building. He was throwing a half-eaten red apple into the air. He said, “It’s called an Och Plum. It’s a real treat.”
Biting into the plum produced a sickly sweet taste that Veleria was suddenly overwhelmed by. Even her chest burned in response. Adrian smirked at this, leaning forward to thumb a trail of dark juice running down Veleria’s chin. She playfully smacked his hand away.
“It’s too sweet, I think.”
“You’re crazy. That’s good shit right there.” Adrian flicked her forehead. He held his hand out to take the fruit from her, but Veleria hesitated. “I’ll eat it if you don’t—“
“No, I’ll finish it.” She plopped the rest of the fruit in her mouth, unsure where the words she spoke even came from. While it was interesting, she hadn’t actually wanted it…And yet, she also had.
A hint of elation spread through her as she finished the plum.
Caed jolted when another vision nearly blinded him. It was of the small old woman he’d bought his food from, and her husband. They were…Happy, perhaps? Yes, definitely so. In love, and pleased with the outcome of their lives. He realized his hand was touching the stall and quickly removed it. Objects generally produced simplistic images that he usually had to piece together. However, his proximity to Veleria was enhancing him in ways he didn’t expect.
It also seemed oddly random. He wondered if he had been mistaken in some way, observing her and Giarmund as he was. Sources were fickle things believed to be the remnants of Gods or other beings, and they had to be deliberately invoked, but Veleria appeared to radiate power as if she had no such limitations. He would need to be careful that he didn’t turn Oakridge into a crater while he continued his investigation. As such, he chose not to follow them into their next destination—a tavern—and instead remained outside to enjoy his lunch.