TWO HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO: Here-to-There II

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Two o’odee ran along with Alden as he bounded across their field. Stuart said the animals weren’t territorial, and they didn’t seem frightened. So he supposed it just felt good. Long scaled legs stretching, claws scratching soil and gouging up the dark spongey plants that grew in clumps all over the place—this was probably a jog for them. He was concentrating too hard on his task to enjoy it in the same way.

He bounced more on one stride than he meant to and corrected with the next, keeping his eyes on the magic surfboard ahead. Its light sail was still at full size. He was almost close enough to call out and be sure the rider would hear him correctly.

And if that didn’t work, he could catch all the way up to her. She wasn’t trying to escape from him; she just hadn’t gotten the hang of steering as well as her friend on the other windmemorizer. That one had curved close enough to the rear of the caravan for the rider to understand Stuart’s instructions for how to stop. This one had careened away again instead.

Alden watched the rider make a too-sharp turn to avoid a young bird that still had fluff on its rump instead of the long, tendril-like feathers that the adults grew there. He took a huge leap toward her, fueled by a jolt of fear that she’d fall. But there was a piece on the light sail for her to hold, and she clung to it like she was glued even as her feet lost their place on the board’s surface.

She’s fine, she’s fine! Almost there.

She needed an airbag. Alden had an airbag. Maybe. He thought that was what Stuart had had in mind when he pulled out a senva seed, threaded a string through it, cast the cushion spell, and told Alden to preserve the seed because, “This might work.”

It was around his neck now, demanding more of his authority than he thought a plain preserved seed should, but it wasn’t an enchanted object.

Ingredient that was a key part of an active spell when I picked it up. And I haven’t got the Burden of Spell part of Bearer.

He’d find out what happened if he fell.

“Say, ‘Fold’!” he shouted. Another deep breath. “‘Fold!’ Say it!”

The woman didn’t look his way. Her feet were back on the board, and it was lifting up into the air to go over an egg. Then its nose was turning toward him as it came down.

He thought she hadn’t heard him, and now, with her pointing this way, they were only seconds from a collision.

He’d dodge, then jump onto the windmemorizer if he had to. He was already positioning himself for that plan, still shouting, “Fold!” when the sail began to fold.

She did hear.

It was a process of tiny triangles of light blinking inwards toward the center, gradually slowing the vehicle. Or it had been like that with the other one. This one folded up much faster, jerking the board to a sudden halt. The woman lost her handhold this time, and Alden suddenly had a person flying toward him.

Airbag? Airbag!

He stuck out his arms to catch her, released the senva seed from his skill’s protection, and had just a moment to experience a little puff of magic pushing his arms farther apart and slowing her approach. Like an invisible marshmallow had expanded into the air in front of his chest and then vanished abruptly.

He caught her more gently because of it, and then let her go as soon as he realized neither of them were going to hit the ground.

They looked at each other.

She was breathing fast, and the pink wraparound piece she wore over her shirt and pants had fallen open. A long fabric strip that had probably been a belt was dangling in a pile of o’odee poop. But other than that, and the alarm on her face that might have been her realizing that he wasn’t from around here, she was unharmed. She wore barrettes made of what looked like polished eggshells in her long dark hair, and they hadn’t even fallen out.

Alden was pleased.

“Hello. My name is Alden.”

“Thank you,” she said after a second. Then, she bowed. “Thank you.”

“I will speak your thanks to them,” he replied, indicating the pins on his shoulder.

Having been shown the sigil that represented The Bearer of All Burdens, he was pretty sure the marks carved deep into the wooden pins were the symbols for Definer of Grooves, Transformer of Life to Water, and The Vatha Lantern. Stuart was wearing a set, too. Within their group, Alden was just Stuart’s company and a willing pair of hands, but the pins were supposed to imply that he had a more official purpose for being here than that. At the last minute, they had realized he fell into his own inexplicable category that would be confusing to everyone they met if they tried to correct assumptions instead of leaning into them.

This woman would assume he was an Avowed hired to work for the knights and their votary today, summoned in a normal way.

“You had to run so far!” She was back upright, looking across the field toward the distant caravan of vehicles. They were moving along, but a truck was stopped, waiting for the two of them to return. “It’s so far. I’m sorry.”

“That distance?” Alden smiled. “I promise that doesn’t look far to me at all.”

His o’odee running buddies were still going. The young one without the long tail feathers was trying to keep up with them.

“Come on. Let’s take this thing back to Leeter… ” He’d forgotten the professional celebrant guy’s last name. “Leeter Wizard. His stripes are out, and he’s going to arrive at your own village’s Here-to-There before you if we don’t hurry.”

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Net balconies extended from the rooftops of the buildings that surrounded the place they called the village meet. It served as the town square, though it was a hexagon in shape, and Alden sat above it on one of those balconies, watching Stuart make his way over after checking on his three illustrious chicks like a worried o’odee hen.

From up here, figuring out exactly what was going on between the knights and the villagers was difficult, but Alden was under the impression that each one was being slowly claimed as property of a different family. There had been a lot of socializing and bowing and introducing Stuart and pointing up at Alden, but now they’d each fallen into little groups of mixed-age people who looked like they could be related. And those groups were being given more space by the other locals around them.

A similar thing was happening around some of the other wizards who’d been here when they arrived.

Most of them were behaving more seriously than Leeter-zis, who lounged on a net across the meet, sometimes tossing little presents toward the people below. The other wizards were also more normally dressed than him. They nodded at the people who came to speak to them and threw occasional looks at the knights or at one another.

Nobody seemed very concerned about Leeter-zis’s clowning around, though, and there were signs that others had plans in that direction for later. A wizard over near Emban had opened her plain black coat to fish something out of an inner pocket, and she had a bunch of flowers under there.

I think we’re supposed to have business time and then party time, and Stripes Out is starting early.

Stuart had made it over. He was looking up at Alden from below.

[Want me to come down?] Alden texted.

In reply, Stuart started climbing the ladder that draped down the side of the building to allow access to his perch.

This was the only balcony that wasn’t crammed with people; it was just Alden and a trio of adolescents a little younger than Stuart. They’d definitely come up here to stare at him and tell all their friends they’d spoken to the Earthling, but he’d been duller than they’d expected and they’d gotten distracted with one another and their own chatter about whether or not the <<station>> was so crowded that nobody would care the Here-to-There was arriving.

Stuart’s appearance seemed to spook the group, and they escaped by launching themselves at a ledge and then down the rest of the way. Stuart glanced at where they’d been, then crossed to sit by Alden, the flat straps that formed the net giving slightly beneath his weight.

“Master Leeter-zis is throwing out the traveling snack before we leave. He is throwing it to people who may not even be in his care on the journey.” Stuart sounded so peeved about it.

[He should be tied to his balcony and left behind as punishment,] Alden texted.

“The day might proceed more <<tastefully>> if he was,” Stuart said. “…are you teasing me?”

“I’m exaggerating,” said Alden. “Exaggeration is when a person says—”

“It was internally painful to hear Noh explain that to you! I should have stopped her, but she was trying to be helpful.”

“Is Leeter-zis really a master of something?”

“Collective casting, according to one of the others who has met him in the past. Since he’s wearing no embroidery at all, and didn’t introduce himself with title, he may want to be addressed casually. Look! He’s throwing another one!”

Alden watched a gold-wrapped bundle arc up from Leeter-zis’s balcony and land in the crowd. “It’s just a snack?”

“You may have one of the ones I brought at the appropriate time. But don’t eat the yovkew.”

So it’s trail mix. Traditional food of travelers and students enjoying a morning of study at the Rapport School library. How dare that man administer the trail mix ahead of schedule!

“It’s going all right, isn’t it?” Alden asked to distract Stuart from the crime taking place. “The knights all seem to be getting along.”

With people who don’t compliment them for matching up with their skill so well that they collect moths, anyway.

“And we’ve already been helpful by stopping escaping windmemorizers,” he added. “Your senva seed cushion spell worked, but not like it usually does.”

He described the effect. Stuart wanted details about what had happened, but he didn’t seem surprised by the outcome. Only thoughtful.

“If a person moves the seed a short distance from where the spell was cast, the cushion fades quickly, but not that quickly. You were more than a short distance away, though.”

More trail mix was falling, courtesy of one shirtless master wizard who was clearly ready for this event to get a move on to the next part. Stuart had turned to face Alden more fully and was spared from the sight.

“Have you noticed more of what we practiced together in your new dreams yet?” he asked Alden.

“I think so. I’m arranging the whole stories from small pieces still.”

Usually, Stuart would have corrected his use of the word that meant something like arranging. Alden knew he wasn’t saying he was “piecing together the story” of the nightmare perfectly right. Bithe accusing him of mutilating the language must have been on Stuart’s mind, too.

“I enjoyed purposeful practice with you.” Stuart lowered his voice. “If the dreams are enough as they are—may it be so for your healing—we could find a new goal to pursue together. If you would like that, too.”

“What kinds of goals are you thinking of?”

“Anything <<mutually interesting>>. A goal that spans a short time as the bokabv has, or one with fruit that ripens more slowly.”

Not a bad idea. Though Alden wasn’t sure how mutual his mind healing goals were as far as shared activities went. He’d been enjoying the practice, meeting livestock, and even the long talks about what mind healing was like and how it could be beneficial. But it all still felt too much about him.

“Can we do something that will be fun and help you prepare for…the important stuff ahead of you…at the same time?” He wished he hadn’t said fun. “Not fun if fun’s the wrong word. Something mutually interesting. I don’t know if there’s anything like that, but if there is?”

The offer sounded much weaker out loud than it had in his head.

“My trouble is that I’m already as prepared for first binding as I can be, and people don’t want to acknowledge it. I have done everything except for those things which require the <<cooperation>> of others. And since I understand that most of my family won’t believe I’m ready even after I’ve met their latest requests, I will move forward onto my path without imagining I can earn that support from them.” He looked down at Emban. “I’m so happy she seems to approve of our friendship! Maybe she will decide she approves of my other choices, too.”

So plainly and decisively spoken until he got to the end there and that spark of optimism appeared.

Stu-art’h is lonely. He wants his family’s help enough to make compromises and wait for a while. But his choosing season is over.

Alden could see it like it was illuminated by the scorching sun over this village.

I don’t understand why everyone thinks there’s still a chance of talking him out of it. This is not an uncertain person. He’s going to lie down under those trees and above whatever remains of the knights who’ve fed the roots.

This is a thing that is going to happen.

“Stuart, I… ”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The sentence he’d begun had no sane ending. What was he trying to say when there was so much he shouldn’t say?

Stuart waited, his expression open and curious.

“I’m…wondering what preparations you can’t make without cooperation,” Alden said. “Are they important steps that would make your first binding easier? Safer?”

“You already know about it. Mostly. As one who has declared, I would normally be spending much time with peers who’ve also chosen the path of highest onus. Other declared and knights close to my age. Social gatherings take place frequently. Squads begin to form, they study each other’s chosen skills, and many search for people they might be compatible with. As Emban does now.”

Mentioning his cousin put him back in a votary frame of mind, and he spent a minute looking down at each of the knights, then calling Bithe to inform him that his coat had gotten caught on something he was wearing, hitching it up in the back and giving him a funny fabric roll over his butt.

Bithe yanked it straight and kept talking with an old, old person who’d gotten comfortable with him fast. They were holding one of his hands and patting it while he spoke.

“Bithe will offer protection and care to a household of assistants who leave this wizard after generations of service,” Stuart said. “The traditions are more important to them than to some others, and he cares about those as well.”

“They’re keeping you from having all of that?” Alden asked quietly . That’s a lot to be left out of, Stuart.