31. Answers in the stars #2
The mage halted some distance away and addressed Isolde directly, making eye contact that nearly sent her reeling.
She stood still and composed, but on the inside she struggled to keep her magic under control.
Not since they first left Azuill had it been this difficult.
She could not let him get closer; she’d hurt him.
Her feet stumbled backwards of their own accord.
“Lady Isolde,” the mage began, “it is good to meet you. I am Caelian Aquilinus of the Lledia mage circle. My esteemed colleague, the mage Kaeloth, bid me escort you onward to the Nexus, where he awaits. The preparations for the, ah, ritual near completion.” His voice had a melodic, southern accent.
He spoke calmly, but his speech sounded rehearsed.
There was palpable nervousness in the way he gripped his staff, his knuckles white with the strain, and the way his eyes shifted between her and his guards. He was scared.
Isolde did not answer him for a heartbeat or two, looking him over.
Then she took a steadying breath and clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking.
She was in control. She would stay in control, because she had come too far to lose it now.
“You have many armed guards with you for someone who is simply here to escort me,” she said, her voice sounding much more composed than she felt .
The mage – Caelian – startled, making an almost comical flapping motion with his hands. “I, ah, that is – the Surgelands are a dangerous place. One can never be too careful.”
She nodded. Mia caught her eye and winked.
“Very well,” Isolde said. “I will be glad to travel to the Nexus with you, tomorrow morning. However, because of your nature as a mage, it would be best if you camped a little ways away from us. For your own safety.” She allowed herself a toothy smile that did not reach her eyes.
The mage swallowed thickly, then glanced sideways at Mia, who nodded. “Ah, yes. That is probably wise,” he agreed. “We will make camp just, ah – there.”
Isolde breathed a sigh of relief once Caelian disappeared behind the ridge. The presence of his magic receded to a quiet hum in the back of her mind.
“I understand why mages are so afraid of leytouched, now…” she said quietly as she stared in the distance.
Mia joined her and Felix by the fire. “Ugh, I hate mages,” she began, a sour expression on her face. “He is technically Kaeloth’s apprentice, although he is a fully fledged mage. He is from Arenoria, in the Medraj, originally. And he is absolutely terrified of Isolde.” She grinned widely.
Felix glowered. “He should be.”
“From what I gathered,” Mia continued in a low voice, “Kaeloth sent him to see if she can control her power or not, but Caelian didn’t exactly volunteer for this potential suicide mission.
His regard for Kaeloth is chilly at best. I suspect that at least half the mercenaries he has with him have orders to rush back and report to the Nexus right away if you were to snuff the little mage’s lights out by accident. ”
“That is what I thought,” Isolde said, chewing her bottom lip. “It is what someone like Kaeloth would do, isn’t it? Put others in harm’s way on his behalf. I wonder how much Caelian truly knows.”
Mia smirked. “The idiot got pulled into this on false pretences, and he has no idea what is really going on. That’s my guess, anyway. ”
Isolde glanced sideways at the bard. “Perhaps… His magical ability seems strong, though. Do you think you could get more information out of him…? Tomorrow, on the way?”
“Oh, most definitely.”
***
Isolde couldn’t sleep. Felix had dragged their bedding away from the rest of the group, muttering about privacy and wanting more distance from “that mage”. She didn’t mind being further from the fire; his body heat was plenty to keep her warm, and the night sky was spectacular in the dark.
It was the kind of night when the stars seemed to hang a little closer to the earth.
Isolde imagined she could simply reach up and grab one, or send a shower of sparks up to join them.
Felix’s breathing was slow and deep next to her, his arm a comforting weight draped across her waist. Even the persistent buzzing of the mage’s presence in the distance was muted.
Her eyes traced the familiar constellations.
The shapes were the same, though the positions were different.
They were so far north now that the Serpent was almost above her rather than on the northern horizon, and the Sword had moved south.
She spotted the Arcane Warden, always easy to find with its distinctive triangle shape.
Most people thought it was just a shield, but one of her old tutors had been fond of astronomy and taught her it was actually a man holding a shield.
Right next to it was its counterpart, if you knew to trace the line of stars from the triangle’s left side.
A curve of stars fanned out, supposedly depicting a woman extending an arm.
They were a pair, the Warden and the woman whose name she’d forgotten. Immortalized together in the heavens. It was quite romantic, she mused. She wondered who these figures were based on, what story or myth had inspired them.
But what if it wasn’t a myth… What if it was history ?
Isolde drew in a sharp breath, and an icy wave of realisation washed over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A magical warden and its counterpart. A pair, two halves of one whole. This answer had been twinkling above her in the night sky all this time.
Felix stirred at the sudden tension in her body, his hand closing over the hilt of his dagger before he was even fully awake.
“What is it?” he mumbled.
She wouldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not until she was sure.
“Nothing,” she whispered. “Just a cramp.”
He propped his head up and gave her a bemused look. “Did you know you’re a terrible liar?”
She smiled up at his face in the darkness, then drew him down on top of her for a kiss. He let out a muffled exclamation of surprise, but readily surrendered to her persistent eagerness. When her hands wandered down, he laughed quietly. “Temptress,” he whispered, “the others are right there.”
“I can be quiet if you can.”
“You will be the end of me,” he groaned, then covered her mouth with his own.
As above, so below. Two halves made one whole.