Of Mountainous Fathers & Too Many Remedies

Havvenchael Clinique

The next sun-rising Halycind awoke to Kodlaa clapping at the window as booms of craft went off in the city square nearest the clinique.

Beside her Siin’s chosen music box sat there to greet her. It had to have been on timer as she knew he fancied complicated gestalts. And when it opened at the ding of the city bells, she was pleased she'd learned him well enough.

"Mages." She scoffed with happy scrutiny.

She stretched upward fully, feeling more than a little strength returning to her limbs.

Siin darted in with mugs of something hot and a bright smile upon his face. “Herbals?” he offered with a goofy grin.

Halycind laughed. “Sure.” Her voice was much stronger now.

“The medics said you can start having people food now.”

She hung her head in jolly disbelief. “Everheart.” She gave him an honest look. “Siin...about...”

“Uh, uh.” He held up one finger as he passed her a mug. “Now mind not to spill, pup.” Behind his smiling eyes lived a warning. “Decisions are what they are. Let's enjoy your waking and listen to May Rising in its glory. Anything we need to discuss can wait till after you’re well.”

She smiled at him. He was much wiser than she'd ever given him credit for. There was much about the two of them she did finally want to openly discuss.

The medics tending her, came in to offer her more vials of whatever concoctions they'd mixed. She knew nothing of alchemy and so only nodded and listened as they instructed her on their ministry. Siin huffed a few chuckles as he knew the girl knew nothing of what they said. Between sips of some of the sweetest herbal teas she'd ever tasted, the medics administered potions and more ointments and small pasty morsels wrapped in bread to aid in the totality of her recovery. After the ugly mix of medicinals, she asked Siin for another mug of tea.

Kodlaa was beckoned by one of the mages to fetch her friend's belongings as she was to be released soon. Kodlaa kissed her friend on the forehead and left.

Halycind near jumped from her bed at the sight of what next walked in.

It was as if Percival had grown a foot in all directions. A mountain of a flaxen-haired man stood with an equally large grin spreading his beard and mustache.

“So you're the gale-killer?” He belted in a voice that sounded of happy thunder. “But you're so small.”

Halycind propped up one eyebrow.

“Weroance...” Percival squeezed in passed the man who looked so much like him she'd sworn he’d been spat of his mouth. “...this is my father, Agent Ruu Hollichek.”

Halycind could rightly see where Percival got his burly but fine looks.

“As is the rest of the continent, I was impressed to hear of your kill. So I had to come meet the one who has literally stirred the Agency to study new hunting methods.”

“What?”

“'Tis true. Njocis, our central most Agents in Gaen a Nce, are looking into how exactly you accomplished this feat.”

“I just knew I didn't want to die to that thing. He was an invidious creature. He prodded around in my head. Groping me for secrets. So I prodded him back.” She said hatefully remembering the invasion of her mind. “And, hey, did you know there's a bit of silverskin between their belly scales that my sword can just slip in through?”

They stared at her in astonishment. Halycind didn't know what she had actually explaining was what an old king of Carabaan once called a “mental shredding” or a flaying of the mind. With her shriek, she had stunned the creature and as its tender mind was being ripped to shreds, its weaknesses became all open too her and she had burst a dash to slit up the rawest portion of its underbelly. Normal eyesight would not have been able to catch this subtlety. Ruu and Percival both sagged, coming to the same conclusion. They would, now, have to engineer something new for the rest of the Agency to use—that wasn't part Carabaaniel—in order to kill any more of these things.

“Your sword...right. That’s what did the job.” Ruu scoffed.

Halycind looked to Kodlaa who'd just shimmied by the two large men then back to them. Kodlaa caught her mental haunt and chuckled. She pulled from Halycind's things her sword in sheath.

“Carabaaniel steel. Folded more times that coin.” She smirked.

“As right as they may be, we believe it must be the hand that wields it...” Ruu tilted a head and drew his Agency's crimson blade. “Look familiar?”

This was the first time Halycind had really given a good hard look up close at the blood red blade all Agents carried. In a haze of thoughts she ran a slow finger across its face at the edge. She flashed an eye to the Agents.

“Who forges this? How do they know of our traditions?”

“Because they are your traditions. The Agency learned much from the Split-Wolf Kingdoms...and now again it seems we must be schooled. And by a wolaenki no less.”

Percival glanced at his father then spread a smile.

“You must etch this kill in tontantoa once you're released.” Percival instructed.

“First thing, Exemplariat.” She smiled. Siin piled in on the girl's room with another mug of sweet herbals in the now full space of hunters. She took it as medics all shooed the lot from crowding the girl.

As she was groomed with warm perfumed waters and massaged with oils and hair braided with two large braids and dressed in festive garments fit for May Rising, the medics stuffed her satchels with more potions and vials and small morsels for further healing. A mage in blue dresses kissed her on both hands, as was customary when one healed someone. She gave her a soft encouraging smile and sent her to an, again, clapping Kodlaa in the foyer.

The small girl full of glee was hard to contain as they all filed out of the infirmary into the open loveliness that was May Rising in Havvenchael.

Siin sniffed Halycind's skin and flopped her hair. “What nob thought it a good idea to dress you up as some princess?”

“Oh funny, Siin.” She remembered her insult some time ago in Ladi Gru Has. “I rather like it.”

“I didn't say I didn't.” He flirted and she smiled. He prodded at her satchels. “What'd they give you?” He saw a number of vials and wrapped poultices being handed to her before.

“You'd have thought they'd given me the Terile Function. I don't even know what half this siidal is. I don't envy you, Siin.”

The two shared a laugh as the lot walked to the audience Halycind was to have with Her Highness at the castle-keep. “Thank you for the music box.” She smiled looking to it inside her satchel.

“You’re worth it.” He whispered.

Their moment was imposed upon by a comical pile of fabric waddling toward them.

Veygornne met them on the street with a gigantic armful of caftans and cloths and letters.

“What's all this?” halycind said alarmed.

“The city is grateful and wanted to offer gratitude.”

“The city?!”

“Yes, there’s more in the Chancery.”

“More?! Whoa. Wait. I don't get it, had those things been terrorizing Havvenchael?”

“Terribly, and now they know they can be killed.”

“But I was just...trying to live.”

“Some of the greatest things happen that way.” Percival smiled.

“I suppose but this is too much.”

“Well it’s too late they’ve had a whole near two fortnights to pile on their thanks and we’ll now need to purchase new cases and trunks for all their gifts for you.”

“This is insane. I don’t know how to repay this sort of…”

“Never worry. Folk heroes only repay gifts with tall tales.” Both Veygornne and the others laughed to her.

“You know, truthfully, Veygornne I'm rather surprised you're married.”

He groaned a sigh as they laughed at him, now. Then he thought, “Oh! There's a new quintox in here, somewhere, for you from her, actually.”

Halycind nodded a gracious grin. “I’ll have to write her my gratitude.”

Kodlaa, in all her glee was skipping side-on-side in time to the musics, Halycind could now solidly hear them well; and they were as beautiful as she had imagined. Ruu began a spill of the meanings behind the words of the songs the troubadours sang and all the colours used in the sixteen day long celebration and how it often started a full ten days prior to its official sixteen day run. So many preparations made the anticipation of its commencement a celebration in and of itself.

Halycind asked him why exactly the city had been strung with so much hemp and wire. He explained that the city had been rigged for war and that those ropes and wirerigs were for the engines and catapults used in the city's defense. Because of Havvenchael's power it had not been taken over during the Gaennish Occupations due in part to those trebuchet. Now-a-days, tight-ropers used them to dance and perform tricks upon during the sweeping merriment of May Rising.

He told them it was a wholly Isam tradition that all of Cat'a welcomed the rest of the world into. Lovely dark-skinned Isam girls with hair bound in many many ribbons and braids offered sweets and candies to travellers passing by. Isam Ladies bent graciously behind fans of lace and reeds as nobles of high station walked their city streets. And the magi...the magi that rained craft in wonderfully blue explosions down upon them, showed the craftless Isam what living with la'as was truly like. And they would laugh and joke and be amazed at what issuance flowed from their hands. For it was the Isam pugilists who housed the fleeing mages that had overturned Vim way back in the White Era. And it was the magi who aided the Isam in the first real defense of Havvenchael and its May Island back in the Blue Era.

May Rising was both a celebration of Isam fighting prowess and a pronouncement of mage freedom from mancer rule.