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Chapter 37. Return to Kamadan |
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eathers do not agree with me,” Kazuma complained as Ebony Starfall gestured toward the new armor she had procured on his behalf, “I still don’t see how this is going to work.” Mashiro frowned and rolled his eyes at the hunched figure. The big elementalist stumped around the small room of the hut poking at the dusty oddments that lined one of the walls. “Don’t touch that,” Ebony grumbled, regretting that the two men had followed her to her old home. As officers of the Order of the Crystal Palm, they were well traveled and had been among the few members of the guild who had traveled to Elona in the past and could thus make the sigil leap to Kamadan with her. “Just trust me.” “How come he doesn’t have to wear an ugly outfit?” Kazuma persisted, his perpetually open blue eye flashing in the dimness, “I hate red. It’s so… ridiculous.” “You’re a necromancer and one of my foreign students. Just play along.” “It looks gorgeous on you. I like you in a skirt,” Mashiro chuckled. Ebony wished he would put away his elementalist focus. Its lazy orbit around his close-shaven scalp only drew attention to his foreign features. Certainly Canthans were not completely unknown in the major cities, but she did not want to advertise. Her decades of mentoring young necromancers had created a legacy of students scattered around Elona and beyond. She had played that card to its fullest. Of course it had taken over a week to finally make contact with Negash, one of her best students. He had done well and was now an established member of the Order of Whispers. Naturally, her fondness for him was reciprocated by admiration and appreciation that had sweetened over the years. It helped that they had also kept in touch via semi-annual missives and her seeking him had thus drawn no suspicion. “So what is melon-head supposed to be, then?” Kazuma asked. “A friend of yours from Cantha and a bodyguard.” Mashiro jokingly flexed his thick arms. He had a powerful frame and he attributed this to his predilection for earth and water. “I’m quite capable of looking after myself,” Kazuma snapped, shooing his friend away. Ebony knew both men were restless. Their stay had lacked excitement or any sign of progress. Though they joked and hassled her good naturedly, she also knew they were worried about Master Bei and felt she was wasting precious time sitting around in Kamadan. She also knew they resented that they had not been allowed to go to Cantha with Mog, Keisha and Lemony. It was their homeland, after all, and they felt out of place in Elona. Still, Xiang Yi had insisted that someone go with her, even if finding Zhou or Pendaran in Elona was a long shot. As far as they knew, Bei had vanished in Kurzick lands. Still, it was worth checking her sources. “If I’d known I’d be forced to wear this I would never have come,” Kazuma sniped, grudgingly attaching the black-plumed greaves to his shins, “I’m a necromancer, not a chicken.” “You’re more obsessed with your looks than a mesmer,” Mashiro taunted, “Albeit, a very ugly mesmer.” “As soon as we find out Zhou and Peng Ren are not here, have never been here, and are unlikely to show up in the foreseeable future, I’m gone,” Kazuma replied, “And I’m burning this so-called armor.” “Never know, maybe Zhou fancied a trip to his master’s grave so he could give it a good kick.” Ebony raised a brow. Master Bei had treated her with a flattering level of respect, but he was also a mystery to her. “He had a teacher from Elona?” “Yes, a nasty piece of work from the Order of Whispers,” Kazuma said, gazing ruefully upon his unshod feet, “Seriously? No boots?” “In Elona, we believe our ancestors dwell in the earth beneath our feet,” Ebony replied tartly, “Stamping on the ground keeps us in touch with them.” “If I were wearing my hobnail boots, they’d hear me that much better,” Kazuma said with a sardonic grin. Elona decided to ignore him, he was toying with her now. A week together had taught her that half the time they were teasing her and she had no idea what they were up to the rest of the time. She did know they were old friends and were completely at ease in one another’s company and thus a mutual source of amusement. Ebony was grateful for that at least. It was nearly noon, and to her relief, Kazuma had finished his transformation from richly attired Canthan to humble Sunspear. His elaborate leathers and ornate flared attire was now stashed inside of her old blanket chest. Negash would be arriving at any moment. She retrieved her iron kettle from the hearth with a gloved hand and poured the freshly boiled water into a simple tin flask. The smell of freshly ground coffee flooded the small hut with its exotic oily aroma. “Go take your seats at the table.” “Does your friend speak Canthan?” Mashiro asked pointedly. “I don’t know. He had no reason to know it while he was my student.” A crooked grin deepened the lines around Mashiro’s mouth. They sat on the simple trestle stools around her old work table, nodding when she eventually brought them small cups of thick black coffee. Mashiro pulled out a pouch of small red and blue glass disks that the two of them used to play a game she had yet to learn. Fortunately, it kept them amused and limited the impact of their habitual mischief. Both men fell silent when there was a soft rap on the thin plank door of her hut. She rose and slowly drew it open, smiling when her eyes fell upon Negash. He had changed a great deal over the past two decades and it was strange looking upon his scarred, weathered features when her last memory of him was as a young man. His black-hair was plaited in fine rows upon his scalp and streaked with the first traces of gray. His skin was the color of freshly turned earth and an elaborate pattern of facial scarring served to emphasize his serious nature. “Master,” he chuckled, clearly overcome with emotion upon seeing her again. He bowed low to her and she returned the gesture, taking in his dusty red robe and battered boots. “Please, call me Ebony now. It is good to see you again, Negash.” “And I am glad to see you again,” he replied, the familiar sharpness of his midnight gaze meeting her eyes. She stood aside, gesturing him to come within. Naturally he looked askance at her when he saw Kazuma and Mashiro sitting at the table. “I have been traveling since last we met,” Ebony explained, “Kazuma is one of my Canthan students and Mashiro is a dear friend and guardian.” The two men nodded upon hearing their names. Kazuma muttered in Canthan. Ebony bit her lip and watched Negash’s expression, noting his confusion. Of course Kazuma was testing to see what he understood. “Kazuma is simply making a greeting,” she said, glaring pointedly at the necromancer when Negash wrinkled his brow, hoping she was not pressing her luck. Negash smiled and nodded at Kazuma. “Please tell him thank you for his kindness.” Mashiro said something equally unintelligible with an ingratiating smile. Kazuma laughed hoarsely and Negash chuckled with them in good natured ignorance. “Of course, Mashiro is also happy to make your acquaintance,” she explained, flushing slightly when the two Canthans now laughed openly. Gods, why these two? She hated to think what they might have actually said and prayed her friend did not know Canthan. “I’m afraid they are rather mischievous, but I trust them with my life,” she continued, guiding Negash to a seat at the table and setting a fresh cup of thick sweet coffee before him, “It looks like you have been traveling. The Order keeps you busy even though the war has ended?” “Of course. There is still much to be settled.” “Were the demons as wide spread as I have been lead to believe?” “Aye,” Negash said grimly, “and many still remain though their dark god is fallen.” She rested across the deeply scored table from him, her hands wrapped around her own tiny ceramic cup. “It is so good to see you again,” she continued after a long silence. It was obvious Negash was eager to talk but was either uncertain where to start or hesitant to speak at all. She decided to start in safe territory. “I enjoyed my stay in Cantha, but I have missed Istan. Now that my student is able to leave me and make his own way in the world, I though it might be fun to travel a final time. He wished to come with me. I always find it amusing how protective my students can be.” “Well, we all loved you, even if you could be a bit of a terror,” Negash chuckled good-naturedly, “We used to call you Lioness.” Ebony laughed now. She knew at times she was harsh, but the world was far nastier than she could ever be. A necromancer could not afford to take their art lightly. “I see I did not maul you too badly.” “Maybe not enough,” Negash retorted darkly, laughing now, “Erdlu was always up to things. I wonder if you new the half of it.” Ebony smiled, her throat tightening at the memory of the young woman. Erdlu and Negash had been inseparable, bonding closely as many students did during difficult studies. She wondered if Negash knew Erdlu had been slain during her own brash attempt to open a portal to the spirit realm. It had happened some years after he had gone on to prove himself in the world. Ebony had never mentioned it in their short missives. Pride had cost Erdlu in the end. “Well, ultimately, what my students chose to do when I had my back turned was out of my control,” she said, mouthing the words she had repeated to herself many times over the years. She still felt a great deal of responsibility for what befell those like Erdlu who had the temerity to use their talents with little regard for their own safety. Sensing he had strayed into uncomfortable territory, Negash smiled reassuringly and sipped his coffee. Ebony rose and retrieved a plate of almond cakes from the mantle and set them down before her friend. She hoped he would volunteer information about Zhou if he had any. The Whispers were famously nosey and reputedly knew anything significant that transpired. “Try those. A dear friend of mine in Cantha got me addicted to them and I had to bring a small supply with me.” “These are nice,” he replied, savoring the subtle nutty sweetness of the hard flat biscuits. “Do you see many Canthans in your line of work?” Now that Mashiro and Kazuma were deeply engrossed in their strange game, Negash relaxed visibly and leaned his elbows on the table top. “Aye, I’m helping recover the Oracle of Whispers. He is from Cantha originally. He was kidnapped and we must help him.” Ebony doubted Zhou would have ended up in the Order, especially since it had taken Negash three years of hard work to finally gain their trust and enter their ranks. “I wasn’t aware the Whispers employed seers and oracles. I suppose you can’t be too choosy about the sources of your information during war.” “The Oracle was a gift from the gods,” Negash replied, his eyes gleaming intensely, “He came to us at the moment of our greatest need. None before have seen so far or clearly. We owe him a great debt and must save his life.” Ebony hesitated, the hair of her nape rising in the face of her student’s uncharacteristic fervor. “When did he come to the Whispers?” she asked calmly, trying to sound detached. “In the spring when it seemed Nightfall could not be avoided,” Negash replied proudly. From the side of her eye she realized Kazuma’s hand was trembling as it hovered over one of the red glass disks of his playing pieces. Mashiro glanced at her, then forced himself to look away, feigning disinterest. “I had no idea the Order opened its ranks so freely,” Ebony replied, “It took many years for them to welcome you into the fold.” “He bore the aura of a mighty demon hunter,” Negash replied, “He was also a student of the prior Oracle. Clearly his coming was ordained by the gods themselves.” “I see,” Ebony replied, trying to keep the alarm from her voice. So Zhou had ended up in Elona after all. Why had he joined the Order of Whispers without first coming home to tell them? “I know this will sound odd,” she continued, smiling sweetly, “but I would greatly enjoy working with you a final time. Perhaps we could help you find these kidnappers and bring them to justice.” Negash hesitated, his eyes widening slightly with alarm. “I was not meant to share that knowledge with you,” he murmured apologetically, “Farishta will not be happy with me.” “Perhaps you could tell her I am your former teacher and it is a dying wish to observe you at work before I am too weak to travel. She does not have to know that you told me about the missing Oracle.” Negash winced, meeting her eyes. “Grenth’s hand is upon you?” he rasped, alarmed. “Yes,” she lied, milking her elderly status for all it was worth, “My time approaches and the wasting begins. Soon I will be confined to bed, but not before I have walked upon the good red earth of Elona one last time. You will honor me with this request?” “Of course, my beloved Master. I would be honored to have you at my side.” Ebony smiled, a slight pang of shame in her throat for having to mislead him this way. She had to help Zhou and she would get to the bottom of this mystery one way or another.
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