Chapter 18 Unexpected Acquaintance
UNEXPECTED ACQUAINTANCE
As the caravan rolled deeper into Astral City, an unsettling weight pressed down on Lark’s chest. While she tried to pay attention to her surroundings, flickers of memories danced through her head, like ghostly sails of a forgotten ship drifting through a foggy sea.
She could sense them, vague, elusive, but whenever she focused, the images dissolved into the mist.
The streets of Astral City were filled with smithies, taverns, and stables that stretched before her, new yet familiar. The déjà vu was relentless.
The caravan pulled off the main thoroughfare, passing under a brick archway. Its mortar lines shimmered with the light of faintly carved elven runes. The passage between the two sprawling buildings gave way to a stable yard, a lavish necessity for the urban estate.
“This is the end of the line, Elks Lodge,” Ezra announced.
“My associate, Cheyanne and I, would be happy to give any of you a discounted rate to stay in the Pour House’s sister inn.
Everyone else, have a pleasant stay in Astral City.
” He made a point to hoist his war hammer over his shoulder, as he added, “Any loiterers will be charged extra or forcebly escorted off the grounds.”
Lark’s necklace warmed a moment before a flash of light near a window stole her attention. Nix, who had been careful to remain out of Hardin’s line of sight for a week now, openly hovered just outside a window at the inn. Her fire rippled against the window as she peered inside.
Lark checked to see if Hardin had seen Nix, but he was stooped over, back rounded, as he fished for something inside his lute.
Nix dropped away from the window, her usually pristine dress ruffled as she darted toward Lark.
A word began to transform on her lips, then magic crackled around her form as she flared, darting away from the inn.
Heat brushed Lark’s cheek when Nix shot past, trailing sparks that dissolved into nothing.
The fae continued as if fleeing from something invisible, her movements sharp and desperate as she disappeared around the corner of the archway.
“Nix?” Lark called out. A ball formed in the pit of her stomach. Something about this place didn’t feel right. Something about bringing the Hyalite here didn’t feel as solid as she’d imagined it would’ve.
“What’s that?” Hardin asked, snapping to attention.
“It’s… nothing,” she replied.
“Ezra promised he would take me to the Keep,” Hardin said, relaxing. “You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”
“The Keep,” she repeated, her focus clinging to what could’ve made Nix transform and rush off like that.
Her stomach churned with an unsettling feeling as doubts crept in.
The idea of passing off the Hyalite without Nix there, it felt wrong.
Nix was the one who initially pushed for her to keep the Hyalite and bring it with her on her quest.
This must be the right thing to do, she told herself. They say this Keep is host the best Paragons of Lamar. They wouldn’t miss-use a Hyalite, right?
“Yes, Ezra says he can show us to the Vermillion Keep. The one you seem to suddenly know so much about,” Hardin said.
If I don’t do this now, I may not learn more about myself. Who I was and how I got this orb, she thought.
The crimson spires of the Vermillion Keep housed the elite guardians of Lamar; the Paragons.
These champions of magical warfare were not just honored heroes.
The highly trained warriors were living legends.
The Paragons of the Vermillion Keep hosted the single largest collection of dragonriders outside Nordraven.
How they agreed to follow their contracts with the Keep, Lark could only guess at.
Money, power, control, these seemed like things a dragonrider, or group of dragonriders could gain on their own.
Yet, Nordraven’s dragonriders seemed to hold true to their kingdoms leaders as well.
Lark’s questions spun as doubt that these heroes would take the best care of this Hyalite’s power crept into her mind.
While she was standing near the wagon lost in thought, Hardin slung his lute over his shoulder, approached Ezra. Lark checked one last time for any sign of Nix.
“I will see to it that the both of you make it to the Vermillion Keep,” Ezra said.
“That’s not necessary, for me,” Lark announced, feeling the stress mounting.
“The Keep is hard to miss. I can manage to locate it on my own.” She didn’t know what the Keep would do with the Hyalite once they had it.
She imagined they’d present the Hyalite to an unbonded dragon and allow the dragon to pick their rider.
But what if that’s not how they do it here?
What if they take the energy inside the Hyalite and use it for something else, like powering a new defensive or offensive ward for the Keep?
Wards could hold power if left unused, but once the spells they were designed to protect were tested, the energy charging them drained.
Without recharging runes with magical energy from Yogos, or one massive charge from a Hyalite, wards for a place as expansive as Astral City and the Vermillion Keep would die.
With an enemy as cunning as Nordraven, surely the wards for the Keeps were probed and tested.
Lark understood this as fact, just like she’d understood the layout and rotation of the Keep’s guard. Why do I know that?
Over her journey, Lark felt there was a strange attachment that she’d grown with the Hyalite, like it shared piece of her soul. The question of whether she should go the Keep or avoid it weighed heavily on her conscience.
“Don’t you want the answers you’re looking for? Isn’t that why you came all this way while keeping that,” Hardin said gesturing to the pack, “a secret?”
Lark went rigid. She tilted her head, her breath came short and fast. She tried to wordlessly shout at Hardin to keep his mouth shut about her pack. “I think I’ll manage. Ezra was kind enough to bring me this far. I’m not going to put him out anymore if I can help it.”
“I’m already going to the Keep, but if you want to find your own way that doesn’t bother me any,” Ezra said.
“See, it’s not out of his way. And he’s not charging you extra,” Hardin said, raising a brow at the dwarf and adding, “Right?”
“It’s a one-time offer. Take it or leave it,” Ezra said.
“I’ll take it. Come on, Lark, what’s the harm in saying yes every once in a while,” Hardin said with a grin.
Lark’s shoulders sagged. Hardin was relentless. “Fine, if it gets you off my case and encourages you to go annoy another person, let’s go.”
As they walked out past the inn and up the cobblestone street toward the Keep, Ezra continually checked to make sure they were still in tow. His visual check-ins worried Lark, why has Ezra been so accommodating? Does he know what I have and is he making sure it is delivered?
Hyalites contained powerful magic that once tapped into became an eternal well of energy for the users.
Depending on which god it came from, the energy gave the user control over elements like earth, fire, water, or air.
Others granted the users physical strengths, manipulation of emotions, power over gravity and healing.
The strongest power born from a Hyalite, though, granted control over celestial powers; commanding elements of beyond those found on just one world.
A glimpse through the fog of Lark’s memory hinted that a Hyalite’s godly energy, though uncommon, could be forged to uses beyond the increased abilities it gave dragons and their bonded riders.
Yet, the how, eluded her. She understood that Yogo Sapphires contained a finite amount energy that could be used to fuel spell crafting.
Runes held spells cast by that energy until enacted on.
Hyalites, however, were an everlasting source of magic.
The key to controlling that amount of power, however, lay in the secrets of a dragon’s bond.
A bond that, in that moment she knew could be just as fragile as it was strong.
Without the bond, the energy would burn through the wielder, killing them after tapping into the source.
These powers were dangerous, but awesome and they warranted sums of money that rivaled a Kings ransom.
I’ll keep my distance from Ezra in case he tries anything, she thought warily.
The cramped streets assaulted her senses.
Waste-filled gutters competed with smoke from tavern spits and the sweet perfume of fresh bread.
Market stalls overflowed with wares while smithies rang out their endless symphony of hammers and bellows.
Through it all wound the city’s lifeblood: humans haggling over the price of grain, dwarven metalworkers shouldering past with ingots, and elven artisans displaying intricate leatherwork, woodwork and pottery.
Astral City never rested, never quieted.
Its endless commerce was constant as a beating heart.
Lark searched for Nix, stretching her mental connection outward seeking the familiar warmth of the fire fae’s presence. Yet, she wasn’t anywhere nearby. Even the lark pendant on her neck held no internal warmth.
Nix always chooses the worst times to disappear, she thought.
A burst of orange sparks crackling out from a nearby chimney drew her eye, raising her hopes for an instant.
But instead of finding her friend’s flame-cloaked silhouette, Lark’s attention settled on another presence that added to her concerns.
Venrick was there. The tall, dark-haired, green-eyed Squire from her vision followed, matching her pace like a shadow.
He fixed her with that look. The one that sent flutters through her chest and made her pulse quicken.
Hardin had warned her that look only meant one of two things.
Lark knew which one burned in his eyes now.
Is he waiting for an opportunity to jump me?