Sylfaena

  Nenewyn, Chiyorielle, and I were in a well-appointed inn room eating some most delicious food with my sister, Mister Kirkland…and Malcolm. The more I looked at him the more I saw it: he had the same color eyes as Merlinda albeit with ordinary round pupils, and the same hair streak as his father.

  Heredity is a relatively new fascination of mine that came into being when I started working for the Kurvanian royal family; the more generations of children I minded the more I noticed the little things. Hmm, come to think about it, Mister Kirkland’s former world is highly scientifically advanced - I wondered if they’d discovered anything about heredity, the likes of which even the gnomes hadn’t thought of.

  But I didn’t ruminate about such things overmuch, for at that moment I had other priorities. Yes, I had but a singular important question to ask:

  “Mister Kirkland,” I said, “what did you do to make this steak so splendidly delicious?”

  “Glad you asked!” Ah, that’s the smile of a proud artisan. “The first thing I did was dry rub it with a mixture of coarse black pepper, salt, garlic, brown sugar, cayenne, and er, something we call chili powder. Then I waited long enough for the salt to tenderize the meat, after which I grilled it to perfection over white hot charcoal. Ah, usually I’d add chips of mesquite for additional flavor but-”

  I nodded, “Like cayenne, mesquite comes through my sister’s comprehension fully untranslated. Which means that we haven’t devised our own word for either, having never encountered it.”

  Mister Kirkland templed his fingers and leaned forward. Oh, is that the calculating expression Hanzorian had spoken of briefly? Yes, must be, for Chiyorielle seemed a little excited.

  After a long moment he tapped his temple and said, “Long ago, explorers who traversed an entire ocean found these spicy fruits and mistook them for belonging to the pepper family and we’ve been calling them peppers ever since. Valyrian recognized the word maize but not corn as referring to a type of grain. I wonder if it’s possible…”

  Whatever is going on in his head, I prayed it would lead to the acquisition of more delicious food.

  “Cayenne has its origins in the tropics, if I remember correctly, and mesquite is found in certain types of desert - some parts of my home state too. Ah, if I could only get some hands on mesquite…”

  “What is the significance of this mesquite?” I asked.

  “Well it has many uses, but I like to use it to cook meat by a slow method we call smoking - that imparts some delicious flavors onto the meat. I reckon I can work with whatever aromatic woods y’all have lying around if I can’t find mesquite specifically; I just don’t have any place to build a smoker or the materials.”

  “Hm, and what does a smoker entail?”

  “It has three key components,” he counted on his fingers, “The firebox to hold a fire, the cooking compartment to hold the food, and a chimney to let out the excess smoke. I’ve only ever used them, never tried building one myself before. Now Smoky Joe on the other hand…”

  He went on for a while. Smoking meat sounded intriguing. I wanted to know more about this smoking process, and I wanted to try the results myself - for science of course! I wonder if my fire magic could help him? I supposed that if I worked in concert with a talented artificer I might be able to devise something he could use.

  Iylestra could do it, I think, for she is a talented weaver of arcane devices, especially magic rings - if not, there are always the dwarves. Give me some time, Mister Kirkland. As daintily and princess-like as possible I continued to devour dry-rubbed steak to my heart’s content. The pork chops were also quite good, and Nenewyn seemed to agree - she ate four of them.

  Right, so once we had finished eating and had taken down a few drinks, it was time to begin our meeting in earnest. I knew already that they had stopped the Black Order's plans in Cara though the letter they'd sent Hanzorian provided no details.

  The three of them provided me with far more details than I expected. I had to stop a few times to ask them to repeat themselves because some of it sounded absurd. As a scholar, I wanted to know everything, and of course I would want to see this Ca-dil-lac myself and ask how it worked. Then they related everything that happened in the Grimdark Forest, and the Black Order base - including the encounter with Fayd.

  By the end of their tale I wished I could have been there to vaporize him myself; how could he treat Malcolm like that? The bastard! I was glad that Mister Kirkland was there to act decisively and stop him - demon summoning is bad news! But most importantly: Fayd had told them about the connection between the Black Order and the Spellscourge.

  I nodded, “That is one of the things we are come to report on, and the reason why both myself and Nenewyn have decided that we wish to aid you. Nenewyn, would you please tell them from the beginning how we came to know the same?”

  "It all started," Nenewyn said, "When the princes and I went to go search an abandoned keep up in the bleakest part of the Titans, the manor house of a barony long ago annihilated by plague, and swallowed by snow. Inside we found evidence that a necromancer named Nurven had visited the Grand University numerous times, and some Shadar'kethal also confirmed that he'd been on Master Tarian's guest list shortly before his symptoms started. But since that particular connection is known to the rest of you, I'll let Chiyorielle speak of Hanzorian's further findings,"

  The Shadowhawk said, “Master Hanzorian believes that the Black Order has been in operation since at least the time of the Gaian Empire."

  Mister Kirkland put in, "We were thinking the same thing ourselves considerin' they built their stronghold inside some Gaian ruins."

  Chiyorielle smiled, "Hanzorian said not to be surprised if you'd figured that part out yourself. The spymaster's investigations have led him to believe that an especially infamous mage from back then, Expanius, may have been affiliated with the Black Order - for Nurven mentioned him in his journal numerous times. Expanius was a known entity who kept residence in the former capital of the empire, within the heart of the Gaian Waste."

  Mister Kirkland blanched, turning to Illiana, "Is that the place y'all were scared of?"

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  She shook her head. "No, that's the Devilwaste."

  Sis! Don't speak the name of that fell place so casually!

  I said, "The Gaian Waste only consists of the former capital city. The land outside the city is rugged and barren for some five miles after which the vegetation grows ever more lush. As a matter of fact, there's a bustling town right on the river just a day's march from it. During the events that destroyed the Gaian civilization the land the city lay on became cursed and malicious. No one would dare settle inside it. But, of course, it's a place full of ancient relics and it's a breeding ground for monsters."

  Mister Kirkland said, "Ah, so it's a city-size dungeon full of loot - of course they'd build a town for adventurers to rest in nearby."

  I nodded, "You have the right of it. Even mom - even our queen, who is also the high priestess of Elianora, couldn't cleanse it thoroughly, but she did manage to stop the taint from spreading; the curse won't get any worse but there's no telling if it will ever get any better. Early on, even so much as getting a pebble from there stuck in your shoe was enough to turn you into a wraith - not any longer, in fact, one can even eat the meat of monsters found there with no issues. Still, it's still a gloomy and evil place where only monsters, and adventurers, would deign enter. In fact," I paused, "some rumors abound that the monsters don't merely roost in the waste - they come into existence there, spawned by the very land itself. There is a deep and abiding evil festering under that place, whose nature I can only guess."

  Malcolm swallowed an impressive quantity of steak and said, "Which is of course why we must go there ourselves! Naturally. For if anyone would have access to a map of the teleportation network, surely a powerful wizard would! So this Expanius, do we have a good notion where he used to live perchance?"

  Chiyorielle said, "Yes, his residence was in the upper crust sector of the city close to the imperial palace. We have an old map of the place here, which I've been instructed to give to you." She spread out the map, "we have his residence circled; you'll need a contemporary map drawn by adventurers in order to locate it, we believe. The tower was said to have collapsed but…"

  "If there ain't a secret basement," said Mister Kirkland, "then I'm the Queen of Sheba!"

  I was beginning to see, firsthand, what had impressed Hanzorian. Chiyorielle had also spoken at length about the farmhouse operation, how he wielded weapons of frightening power; the nineteen-eleven he used against Fayd, for instance. Moreover, what was a s'more, and may I try one?

  "So where is this waste, exactly," Mister Kirkland inquired.

  Illiana's expression saddened, "It is…ugh. Even as the crow flies more than a hundred and twenty leagues north-northwest, beyond Hylaria."

  Mister Kirkland groaned, "Shoot, so like four hundred miles, is it? Damn. My gas tank would run dry long before we got there so we'd have to drag it anyways, huh?"

  Gas tank?

  Illiana saw the consternation on my face and said, "Sir Victor's Cadillac runs on a volatile fuel which is impossible to come by in this world, er, with our current understanding of chemistry, as he says. Even our friend Meli said it couldn't be reproduced by pattern and matter magic due to how complex and prone to exploding it is."

  "That doesn't sound terribly safe," I muttered, which prompted Mister Kirkland to go on a long tangent about how an internal combustion engine worked. I was amazed; all of this without magic. Even the dwarves hadn't created a machine nearly that complicated - yet, I corrected myself. Then he got real excited and brought out, what's this? A part of a magic trap that conjured flammable vapors - mother's light why would you - oh. I informed him that it might be possible to do as he desires, that the dwarves could indeed fashion magical tools to do just that. I began to marvel at what could be if we combined his unique knowledge with our magics. Indeed, I must needs borrow him at some juncture.

  "Do you mean to go visit Daz Grund? Ah, apologies. I shouldn't assume you know - that is a large dwarf city away west in the Anvilgrund mountains past Andalon. "

  Mister Kirkland considered, then said, "I might. Is that your recommendation?"

  Er, I guess it was, I scratched my cheek, "Y-yes, I suppose it is. The road there isn't especially perilous, and 'tis a much shorter distance than the way to the Gaian Wastes. But Nenewyn here-"

  Nenewyn groaned. Apologies, Nenewyn, we do have to tell them that it's at least possible,

  “-can teleport us all seventy miles at a time, providing that she can find a spot where she is familiar enough with. Sorry Nenewyn I know you're weary of it but-"

  Nenewyn grasped my hand a moment and said, "'Tis for a good cause, I am aware. But I have done it more times in the past few months than I ever have done in eight centuries." I patted her back. After a long pause, she said, with a sudden shift in her tone, "Of course, though…no amount of effort that I can muster is too much."

  Her brow furrowed, and she angled her head in such a way that the light glaring off of her pince-nez rendered her eyes invisible. Her hands clutched the hems of her robe. Hunched over though she was, she seemed to grow taller and more menacing - though her voice never rose above its usual meek volume, she radiated fearsome confidence. No, this wasn’t just confidence, this was one of the rare moments that her aura of majesty shone through. This wasn't lost on the humans in the room, who were suddenly gazing upon my friend with awed silence. The shadow she cast creeped up the wall until the entire room was filled with naught but her terrifying presence. Every word she spoke had the unmitigated ferocity of a mighty dragon, every syllable a mighty thrum upon the very strings of creation itself sawing through the air and through our very hearts.

  "Yes. I'll do it. They hath earned the wrath of this mage, nay, the entire elvish race. Neither the grudges of the most miserly dragon, nor the generational anger of the dwarves, nor the very furnaces of hell, burn hotter than what lies beneath my insignificant bosom when I think upon the wrong they have done to me - to all of us. Whichsoever path you choose, to travel by land to the dwarves or to take the aetherial route by my hand directly to the Gaian Waste, I shall follow it through to the end, Victor Kirkland of Texas. By all of the divines I swear that I shall not rest until these loathsome demon-worshiping savages are brought unto ruin."

  I'd never seen so much passion in Nenewyn - even as we endured that hellscape so long ago she never showed any sign of distress. She always seemed so collected, so cool and aloof even at the worst of times. Her very presence was comforting, and I don't know if I could have kept my wits about me if she weren't there to keep me grounded during the Spellscourge. Always so calm, so unflappable, like a mighty oak that refused to bend or break in the wind - I wished I could be just like her.

  "W-well said, your, um, court mageship?" Mister Kirkland said, "Well I'm happy to have your help. And you too, Third Princess Sylfaena." He bowed.

  "Thank you as well," I said, reaching for the brim of my hat having forgotten that I’d taken it off - gah! I scratched my cheek sheepishly.

  Conversation steered back once again to happier matters, we could discuss serious things later, I thought. So. This was the man who had saved Illiana's life, impressed Valyrian, gained the trust of my father, and somehow managed to convince Hanzorian to shed his emotional constipation. The way my little brother and Hanzorian described him, he was some sort of tactical genius with innumerable tricks up his sleeves. But what did I personally make of the man that I saw before me? In his current environment he didn't seem like much of a warrior or a hero, just, an ordinary fellow. A somewhat handsome fellow, true, but at the same time friendly and approachable.

  I would need to speak at length with Illiana in private at a later time, yes, we would need plenty of later time - we'd not seen each other in decades at this point as I'd not been back home since taking on my role as court wizard. But for the moment I just let myself relax, for I was convinced that my sister was in good hands.

  Wait, there's also dessert?

  I had nothing but kind things to say about Victor now.