Extra. Of Clerics & Shrines
The sun was plenty this afternoon, making fashioning a Solar Magic spell on the river a piece of cake. Vahn thoroughly enjoyed the incantation too, the way it left a soft, pleasant tingle in his throat after being silenced for an entire night.
The spell kept the heat localized in the section of river before them and left it with steam wafting off the surface. Plenty hot enough for sure, but Vahn found himself watching the river dubiously as he knelt at the riverbank.
The whole of it was rather… cloudy. Not at all what he excepted given how much Hawke talked it up the walk over.
He and Hawke had made it to the first crossroad before Hawke had dragged Vahn off for the river. It had been exciting and refreshing as he set up the spell, but now he wondered. Their things were piled against the oak tree folding its branches over the river and Vahn quickly turned to get to his bag. Maybe he could clear up the water a bit. By the time he pulled out his tome, Hawke was kneeling by the riverside and scratching his chin with the same concerned expression. He’d already lost most of his clothes, leaving his chest and feet bare, but hadn’t quite shucked off the pants yet. Probably for the better; it meant he wasn’t about to jump into a possibly dubiously cloudy river.
The afternoon sun played across Hawke’s exposed skin, highlighting the splash of freckles across his shoulders and back. It was actually rather attractive; Vahn hadn’t noticed them before.
“It’s cloudy,” Hawke said, distracting Vahn.
“I realized that.” Vahn knelt beside him and settled his book in his lap. He drew his finger across the interior spine and let the pages search for a possible spell. “I assume since you’ve yet to jump in, this is not normal?”
Hawke made an uneasy motion with his hand. “Could be the time of year.” He glanced up at the tree. Springtime in full bloom. “Pollen could be settling in and making it cloudy. Could totally be fine.”
Somehow, Vahn didn’t believe that entirely. “Think there’s a clearer spot?” He hated he sounded fussy and scrunched his face, trying to think of another way to phrase it.
Hawke dipped his hand in and wiggled it around. Something beneath the heat tugged around Hawke’s skin and trailed off when it couldn’t take hold. “It feels nice,” Hawke said and Vahn doubted he felt what Vahn did. “‘Sides, it’s a river. Things get collected in it all the time.” He took his hand out and grinned at Vahn. “We’ll be fine. You got magic.”
“I do…” Vahn chewed on his lip and decided to hell with it. He stopped his book short of finding anything useful and closed it. “All right then.” He pressed his book to his chest and let his gaze slowly rove over Hawke. “Then why haven’t you shown me how it’s done yet?” He grinned, matching Hawke’s. “I still see pants!”
“Hey! I’ve a mind to throw you in, you know!”
The speed at which Hawke’s arm shot out and looped around Vahn’s waist meant he’d been planning it all along. Vahn let out a shout of surprise, but was too slow to wiggle out of the way entirely, especially once the other arm latched underneath Vahn’s legs to lift him off the ground. Laughter escaped Vahn’s throat instead of any meaningful protest and as he was half-tempted to throw his book to safety, he heard someone clear their throat.
Vahn’s feet found the ground so fast, it left him dizzy. Hawke had whipped around with a knife suddenly in his hand as he faced the traveler paces away from them. Vahn should have been concerned too—he’d felt no one coming up to them despite the shift in magic he clearly felt now—but his attention honed in on the knife.
“Where were you keeping that?” Vahn blurted out. Hawke’s pants were flush against his skin, with nowhere to slot in a knife as smoothly as it must have been. Vahn forgot himself further still as Hawke stammered on a response and he patted Hawke’s waist down in search of a sheathe. Reality caught up just as Hawke snatched Vahn’s hand from going any further.
“Gods damn it, Vahn!” Hawke said through gritted teeth. “Ask me later!”
“Um… excuse me?” the traveler spoke and Vahn snapped back to attention. At least she wasn’t dangerous; she would have already struck. She was about as tall as Hawke with broad shoulders she squeezed inward as though to make herself less of a threat. Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a vibrant red cord and fell down her back as a thick mane of hair. Dark freckles dotted her fair skin all over from her cheeks down to her arms. She wore simple traveling clothes; a linen shirt laced in the front tucked into a bodice that held bottled herbs and a tiny spell book. The skirt she wore was bunched up around the knees with ribbons and revealed a comfortable set of traveling boots laced almost perfectly. A bag was strapped across her chest and had a design on it that meant healer of some kind. It was an embroidered budding sprout with a white halo around it.
“I hope I’m not…” Her eyes darted amusedly between Vahn and Hawke. “Not interrupting. I just saw you from the crossroad and had a question.”
“You’re not interrupting. Don’t worry.” Hawke returned the knife too quickly to its home for Vahn to discern where it had come from and went for his abandoned clothes. “She’s all yours, Vahn.”
As Hawke redressed, Vahn approached the woman. “I might have answers,” Vahn said, smiling, and the woman visibly relaxed. “What did you need?”
“Well.” The woman bit her lip. She stared at his hair, then his eyes, and then to the bracelets shimmering underneath the sun. Definitely piecing together what exactly Vahn was, at least. “I… well. I’m magic too. I mean. Oh. I’m getting mixed up.” She pressed a hand to her forehead and breathed in. “You both look formidable? No. Cassie would tell me that’s silly to say. Shoot. Okay. Let me just… Hi.” She dropped her hand and nodded. “I’m Orleia.”
Her nerves betrayed her, but it was a little endearing. “And I’m Vahn,” he said and then nodded toward Hawke who was pulling on his boots now. “He’s Hawke, my traveling partner.”
Orleia smiled, visibly relaxing even more. “Nice to meet you,” she said and exhaled. “I’m sorry—asking for help from strangers is still rather new to me. I’m not usually alone and Cassie does this kind of stuff for me and oh no, I’m blabbering again.” She cleared her throat and tensed right back up. “Cassie’s my partner, but she’s sick with a stomach bug and I assured her I would be fine on my own and if not for this”—she drew a hand toward the thick bundle of trees nearby—”I’d be fine! But…” She stopped short all of a sudden and sighed. “Can I please start over? I’m messing this up.”
“Just relax,” Hawke said, keeping his voice incredibly soft as he came over. “What did you need help with?”
“On our travels, my partner and I visit Wild Shrines and fix them for pilgrimages. Usually, they aren’t so forgotten the spirit manifests and I can do it on my own…”
Vahn raised his eyebrows. “Wild Shrines? Spirits?”
Orleia paused and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you’re actually really new down here, aren’t you? I guess they wouldn’t have Wild Shrines up there, huh?”
“He’s very new,” Hawke said and Vahn swatted at him. “Ah, I see it now. You’re a wandering cleric, aren’t you?”
Orleia brightened, clasping her hands together. “Yes! I’ve made it part of my wandering to ensure the Wild Shrines are kept cleaned and respected so we don’t get any cataclysmic events from spirits manifesting their displeasure.”
Vahn shoved his spell book at Hawke—he caught it with a strained oof—so he could pull his notebook out to jot down what Orleia was saying. Definitely not anything the Floating World would have told him, so he wanted to make sure he kept it for research later. “What exactly does that mean?” he asked. “Like… how does it work? I’ve never heard of this before.”
Orleia glanced at Hawke, who shrugged, and her lips parted into a gentle smile. “Okay, let’s see if I can explain this… shrines are built on areas where the ley lines intersect.” She paused and let Vahn catch up jotting it down. “You know ley lines, right?”
The World Below had lines of magic beneath the surface running through the world and those were commonly called ley lines. It was said Wild Magic naturally occurred because of them. The Floating World had something similar, but theirs were curated and strictly maintained because it helped keep the islands floating. Once, their lines had to have been connected to the ley lines down here, but it has been so long, no scholars could match them up any longer. In any case, the ley lines were compared to massive root systems the way smaller lines grew out from main ones to cross-cross around the continent. It was a fascinating area of study, but the Floating World tended to disregard it since it didn’t matter up there.
“Yes, of course,” Vahn said and urged her on.
“When the ley lines intersect, the event tends to form a spirit of some kind,” Orleia continued as she peered over Vahn’s notes. “Scholars posit it’s not really anything with a mind, but rather magic’s continued reaction to external stimuli like whether or not the area is taken care of or whatnot. Docile if it is, rather angry and scary if it’s not. Faith tends to believe spirits manifest at the behest of the Goddess to show we’re on the right path… or not.”
Curious. Vahn hadn’t read many faith-based texts; the Floating World simply prayed to the Goddess who was said to keep the world turning, day in and day out, and while her temples were pretty and holidays extravagant, Vahn wasn’t very devout.
“Unfortunately, in many parts, upkeep has fallen woefully out of practice because shrines are always tucked away,” Orleia explained and fidgeted with her rings. A few of them sparkled with magic, clearly spelled with enchantments of some kind. “It takes a cataclysmic event for people to remember, but by then the land’s quaking, harvests are dying, and I’d like it not to get that far if I can help it.”
Hawke was nodding as he glanced at the river. Still cloudy. “Didn’t even realize one was nearby, but maybe that’s why the river’s murky?”
Orleia quickly brushed past them and her eyes widened. “Oh, this is worse than I thought!” She chewed on her lip and dipped her hand into the surface. “I would bet that yes. The spirit here must be one that watches the river and if it’s out of sorts, it would let the river get this way.” She straightened her back and placed her hands together. “Will you two help me? Every time I get close, I know something is terribly wrong and without Cassie, I don’t know if I have the strength on my own.” She pointed toward the trees and brush leading up an incline where wooden steps had been pounded into the earth. “It’s not far. Just up this incline.”
“Of course, we’ll help,” Vahn said as Hawke looked to consider saying no. Vahn wasn’t about to let seeing what this was all about pass him up. The Floating World had nothing similar. “Lead the way!”
She set a brisk pace, but the hill and the steps upward quickly became steep and winding with brush growing all over the place that impeded their progress. Sunlight glittered down on them, making the whole place almost picturesque, especially when Vahn noticed the wild flowers sprouting up between the steps, but Vahn couldn’t deny something felt off. He couldn’t quite place it, but it must have been related to Orleia’s plight. As they walked, he tried feeling out for the ley line she mentioned, something he’d have to practice eventually, but it was out of reach. Buried under noise. He tired of failing to reach it and left it alone for now.
“So,” Vahn broke the silence when he ran out of distractions. “You’re a cleric?”
“Yes!” Orleia patted the bag with the sprout and halo. “I heal the sick and teach healing arts to the places I travel.” She slowed and glanced at Hawke next to her. There was a bruise on his arm and she pulled him closer.
“Where’d that come from?” Vahn asked.
Hawke rolled his eyes. “Mar slugged me when I teased her. Didn’t think it bruised.”
“Watch,” Orleia said and spread her fingers over the wound. “Oh, spirits! I ask of thee: pray help heal this bruise.”
Vahn watched eagerly as the skin around the bruise shimmered and how the discoloration grew smaller until no bruise remained at all. Curiosity got the better of Vahn and he poked the area until Hawke brushed him off.
“Stop that,” Hawke said, chuckling. “I’m sure you have healers up there, right? This can’t be that new.”
“I mean… yes.” Vahn pouted at Hawke. “But it was never quite analogous to the magic I learned. It was its own field I hardly attempted.” He peered at Orleia in thought. “Do you think having faith helps?”
Orleia looked taken aback at the question and gave it some thought. “I’ve never actually thought of it as separate. The Holy Sect of the Goddess raised me, so I always sort of always believed.” She continued thinking as they trekked upward. “I suppose it could be another way of calling Time Magic since that’s literally what’s done here. We set the wound and concoct a spell to facilitate the body’s own healing.”
Hawke looked at the now not-bruise on his arm uncomfortably. “What if someone’s old? Healing tends to slow down.”
“Then we switch to using our own by utilizing Mind Magic,” Orleia continued slowly. She squeaked suddenly, making Hawke flinch and draw out a dagger, but all she’d gone to grab was a small booklet from her bag. She excitedly handed it to Vahn. “Here! I have dozens of these to give out, but it’s basic healing spells as we see them. Perhaps you can learn something!”
Vahn resisted reading it right then and there (he’d trip otherwise for sure) and happily slipped it into his bag for later. Healing spells on his journey would actually be pretty helpful. He knew a few, but nothing as absolute as what Orleia had done. Space Magic accepted the booklet with a puff, leaving a chill around the bag until Vahn secured it closed again. Orleia was watching the bag intently, brown eyes twinkling with curiosity.
“I need a bag like that,” she said.
“I’ll let you know when I can recreate it,” Vahn said with a laugh. “It’s one-of-a-kind right now.”
Orleia pouted and focused on the path ahead. “What were you two doing at the river, anyway? People don’t tend to stop and admire it.”
“Oh.” Vahn’s face heated. “I’ve never swam in a river before and Hawke was going to show me how. Ow!” Vahn brushed off Hawke’s hand too late to stop the pinch.
“Don’t say it like that!”
Vahn pinched him back. “I don’t know why you’re flustered!”
As Orleia covered a laugh beneath her hand, Hawke’s cheeks went red and he glanced away from them.
“You know,” she said, “Cassie and I once found this place up in the mountains.” She paused and turned east. “More east? The Fairshire Range. It’s all snowy up there, but there was this cute cabin for travelers ascending to the peak. There’s a hot spring right outside. Very cozy and secluded.” She winked at Vahn. “Much better than a river! Promise.”
“It’s not like that,” Hawke grumbled.
“In the mountains?” Vahn ignored the grumblings for more information. “I’ve been meaning to head up to a peak at some point! Space Magic is said to be easier up there.”
“I’ve heard if you go at the right time, you can find a dragon at the Fairshire Range peak!” Orleia continued. “I’ve never seen it, but I hope I can one day.”
“A dragon?” Vahn raised his eyebrows. “Really? Everyone’s said they’ve been wiped out for years now.”
“The Floating World doesn’t know everything!” Orleia teased. “Maybe there’s still some hiding out. It’d be nice. I want to speak to a dragon one day. Imagine how illuminating that would be? Something so old must know so much about magic we’ve all forgotten.”
“I hope so too!” Vahn agreed, hardly able to resist smiling.
Sure, part of Vahn’s desire to meet a dragon might stem from old ballads and stories that feature dragons prominently, but to speak to a being known for being older than the Floating World was something scholars only dreamed of. It was a shame many dragons had been hunted down for the magical properties their bones and scales could grant before anyone thought that perhaps culling dragons to the edge of existence was a bad idea. Knowing that perhaps some escaped the carnage was a little bit of a relief.
Before Vahn could talk Orleia’s ear off about what he knew about dragons (he had, after all, done a research paper on their history and had gotten fantastic marks on it), Hawke stopped them both with his arm. The air had grown cold and dark, the glittering sunlight stolen outright as a thick fog rolled across the canopy above. Everything had gone silent too, all the typical daytime rustling and insects gone in an instant. Orleia tensed up, eyes wide, and skirted behind Hawke.
“Don’t like this,” Hawke whispered. “This thing has to be pissed.”
“I concur.” Orleia nodded. “The shrine should be just past the trees ahead.”
The trees made a sort of threshold that Vahn led the way through when Orleia remained behind Hawke. There was a small clearing just past it with trees curling protectively around a dark wooden structure that Vahn could confidently call a shrine. The structure had four wooden posts holding up a tiled roof, but all four sides were open and reminded Vahn of a crossroad. It definitely invited magic inside to cross and Vahn wondered if it mirrored the ley lines it sat on. In the center of the structure was a small offering box with melted candles all around it while benches made of carved logs sat on the outside.
It would have been a quaint place to rest if it wasn’t so dark and silent.
The three of them stood in front of it, watching, but then Hawke stepped toward it. The weight of his step reverberated across the clearing, and Vahn yanked him back.
“Wait,” he said.
“What?” Hawke whispered, eyes wide.
Orleia swallowed. “You feel it too, Vahn?”
“Feel what?” Hawke asked.
If spirits had one thing going for them, it was timing. The presence solidified with a great rumble from its throat making the land around them tremble and its form appeared atop the structure. It was some kind of beast, but it was too dark and spectral to get a feel for what it was mimicking. All Vahn knew was its size eclipsed the shrine and its smoldering eyes were set on Hawke for his invasion.
Orleia dove on Hawke, pushing him one way, and Vahn got his wits about him to dodge to the other side as the beast struck. Its form twisted and melded as it mowed down the spot they’d been standing in. All it left behind was dead grass and brush.
“Shit!” Hawke shouted.
“I didn’t know it’d be that big!” Orleia said as she and Hawke scrambled upright.
The beast came back, faster, and screeched as it flew by. It perched itself on the structure, but it was so large, the wood was splintering beneath it. Vahn hurried to their side before the beast descended again, this time leaving the trees to decay in its rampage.
“So, it’s centralized here it seems,” Vahn said and Orleia nodded quickly. “What exactly do you do to stop it?”
“Well, we fix the shrine.” Orleia winced as more pieces splintered off and cracked as the beast returned. “It’s protecting it, clearly, but it’s bursting with anger, which is why everything’s breaking. We have to placate it, but we need a diversion too.”
“How?” Hawke asked.
Vahn and Orleia stared at him. His lute fixed to his back. Vahn shot her a look, eyebrows high, and she was nodding. “A lullaby,” she said and Hawke stiffened. “You can sing one, right? Or something like it?”
“Oh, fuck me,” Hawke grumbled. “You really think that’s going to work?”
The spirit howled and Vahn quickly whipped his wand out for a spell. The shadows around them coalesced into a shield and the spirit hit it hard. Thankfully, the shield held and the spirit returned to the shrine, watching them intently.
“At least get its attention!” Orleia said and faced Vahn. “Have you ever done a binding circle before?”
“Of course, it’s one of the basics,” Vahn said.
“We need something similar. An exorcism circle,” Orleia explained. “This is strictly for spirits to help guide them back into the ley line. Once the spirit is inside and bound, magic helps placate all its anguish. It’ll help contain it while we fix the shrine.” She waved her hand at Hawke. “When he distracts it, we draw the circle, and I can incant the spell. It has to go all the way around the shrine.”
Binding circles were primarily done to stop a magician in their tracks. A circle drawn into the ground, typically with chalk, and then imbued with a spell for whoever happened across the circle. Many times, it was a prank between students that dissipated in less than a few hours. It made sense the art was born of something greater.
The beast hit the shield again, making the three of them flinch, but despite the large crack now in the middle, it still held. It’d withstand one more hit.
Orleia straightened first. “You two ready?”
It sounded like a good plan at any rate. Even if Hawke looked ready to throttle the two of them for offering him as bait. Before Vahn could assuage his nerves, he was standing on his own with his lute at the ready.
“Hawke, wait.” Vahn gripped his arm and Hawke glanced at him. Vahn freed one of his crescent earrings and held it in his palm. “Solar, I beseech thee to protect our good dear bard.” The spell sparkled inside the clear teardrop crystal. He pinned it to Hawke’s shirt. “If you get hit, this should protect you.”
“Should,” Hawke repeated and Vahn gave him a weak smile. Hopefully it would. “Don’t take too long. I’m going to be a very good distraction.”
He winked and hurried out of the shield. The earring sparkling against him and the strums off his lute echoing powerfully around them. Bursts of magic lighted from the chords and the beast immediately set its smoldering gaze upon Hawke again.
“Hey! Asshole!”
Unwarranted and Orleia palmed her forehead, but it definitely had its desired effect.
“I said placate!”
She and Vahn winced as the beast struck at Hawke with a tendril shifting into a claw. He dodged it with ease, but the claw left a gouge the size of him in the ground. Despite the ashen look on his face and a warble to his words, Hawke went right on strumming and soon a ballad belted out of his throat. Magic flowed freely after it, reminding Vahn of how it had been in the tavern, but this was electric and powerful as it surged through the air unobstructed. It made goosebumps flush Vahn’s arms all the way down.
Orleia jiggled Vahn’s shoulder, breaking the spell. She held out a piece of chalk. “Perfect circle. Think you can handle one side?”
Vahn scoffed. “Of course!” he insisted and she giggled. Circles were something drilled into younger magicians incessantly. “Around the structure?”
“Yes.” Orleia squared her shoulders. “Let’s go before your boyfriend gets smashed!”
“He’s not—” Vahn bit it back as she was already off for her side.
Even though Hawke was not placating the spirit, he certainly kept its entire attention as he danced around with his lute. Vahn was sure the song was made up on the spot too; the verses were uneven and Hawke scrambled to pick them up again when he had to dodge a strike. Nothing stopped the power, at least, and Vahn was sure that more than anything else was drawing the beast’s attention.
Vahn thrust the chalk into the earth next to the mark Orleia had already made and pushed his magic into it. He felt his twist with Orleia’s, twining itself together, and he hurried around the structure, pulling the chalk after him to draw the line effortlessly. If he thought too hard, he’d veer too far, so he emptied his mind as he thought back to all the countless lessons of using magic to guide the hand for the circle. Of following what was already perfect in nature. Orleia was coming his way and they stopped before crashing into one another with their completed circle. When the lines connected, the air shifted. The power between them became an infinite loop, spinning and spinning, and drew Wild Magic free from below.
“The other side!” Orleia pushed Vahn and the act threw them both out of the way from the beast’s strike at them.
“Hey! Asshole! I’m singing at you!” Hawke shouted and the beast turned back to him, growling. He swore and dodged the next strike, ducking low to the ground as it went over his head. “Yeah, you’re a shit shot, you know that? Try that again, why don’t you!”
Orleia put herself in position and Vahn mimicked her pose on the other side of the circle. Knees on the ground and hands flat against the line. “Repeat after me!” she shouted. “Oh, Wilds! I beseech thee!”
“Oh, Wilds—I beseech thee! Ah!” Vahn ducked low as the spirit flung its limbs out and swept them through the air. Orleia was low too, eyes snapped shut. The top of the structure finally gave way, leaving the beast scrambling to stay upright as the roof came down in splinters. Another limb went out far and Hawke yelped as he went flying into the brush.
“Soothe the spirit you once held close!” Orleia incanted, more of a panicked shout than anything controlled. The spirit turned its gaze on them, bright and wide.
“Soothe the spirit you once held close!” Vahn repeated, letting power curl from his hands and into his throat to fuel the incantation.
“And press it close once more!”
The magic ignited before Vahn had even finished repeating the line, but the spell took the energy from him regardless. It fueled into the power below and it came out as threads and ribbons, snaring the beast. It cried out, trying to escape, but it was no match for the circle. The spell loosened whatever made the beast physical, turning it into a shimmer upon the air, and drew it down into the ground. The circle flashed as the beast’s bulk hit it. Its form disappeared and in the ground beneath the structure now was a design was drawn in white. It resembled the beast; two smoldering white eyes and tendrils of branches and claws stretching out around it.
Orleia waited, eyes wide as she tracked the design’s movement. Vahn only relaxed when she did. She let go of the circle, exhaling, and as soon as Vahn did, he felt incredibly weak. Though his body wanted to fold over and maybe take a nap, he resisted and held himself upright for a little longer. His arms all the way down to his fingers ached more than he thought it would, and he drew himself tight.
“Hawke?” Vahn called out, finding himself breathless. “Are you alive?”
“Alive.” Hawke dragged himself out of the branches he’d been thrown into. Not as many scrapes as Vahn had thought he’d have, but the magic in the earring was toast, so it must have activated. Hawke strung the lute over his back again and pulled the twigs and leaves out of his hair. “It didn’t have to swipe me that hard.”
Orleia was up and she pushed on Hawke’s shoulder as she drew near. “I said a lullaby!”
Hawke made a face. “I couldn’t think of one!”
Orleia shook her head, exasperated, and came over to help Vahn up. “The spirit will just be grumpy when it’s released, but nothing earth shattering. Think you have enough magic left to help me fix the shrine? I bet you have an idea how to do it.”
In fact, Vahn did, and he eagerly pulled her to the center where the offering box was buried beneath the pile of wood and tile. Hawke helpfully stepped away without needing to be told, and Vahn sat Orleia down in front of him. Honestly, he’d been wanting to test the dice Jake gave him and this was the perfect opportunity.
“First, we have to remember the structure as it was before all this.”
Orleia thought hard, scrunching her face, but ended up shrugging. “This is actually the first time I’ve seen it. Couldn’t we just use Time Magic to bring it back to this morning and spruce it up from there?”
“We can do better.” Vahn took the rune dice from his jacket and held them out for Orleia. Her eyebrows raised and her lips shifted into a smile. “This should show us.”
“Yes!” she said, wiggling in her spot. “I’ve always wanted to use runes! You toss, I’ll concentrate on the image it shows us, and then we can Time Magic it.”
She was incredibly endearing and Vahn bit back from telling her so lest it come off weird and unwarranted. He hadn’t felt so connected to another magician since he graduated and he missed the immediate understanding.
He concentrated on the dice and felt the magic within. Not his own—not yet—but some amalgamation of Jake and whatever magician had fashioned the dice in the first place. The fuzzy runes glittered, the sides became endless, and the magic within oscillated against his fingertips. There was an image there the dice wanted to show him, of some past or present or maybe even the future structure. He tossed the dice into the air. Orleia watched them, eyes wide and brimming with complete understanding. As the dice settled on the ground with purpose, Vahn saw the nature of the structure in fleeting images as they sewed themselves together as interlocking segments connecting the present to the past and even the future. Orleia gently took Vahn’s hands and her magic coursed with his as the image solidified in something real.
“Time,” he said and Orleia repeated after him, “we beseech thee to return this home to its past before its bones were broken.”
Their voices echoed as one, magic calling out around them for what was wild and free, and it was a marvel watching the spell work. Vahn wished he knew exactly how Time Magic functioned, how it remembered the world as it was, but it did regardless if he knew how or not. Pieces of the structure came together, threading itself back into the splinters that had once been whole. The tiles and beams lifted off the shrine within and pieced a roof together for travelers to seek shelter under. The posts came last, standing tall and proud like they must have done for years before. The magic slotted everything back into place until all was right within the structure once again.
Orleia let go first, a large smile on her lips, and Vahn immediately felt the exhaustion on his own. His bracelets were heavy from everything, but thankfully hadn’t activated. This exhaustion was purely his own.
“There,” she said and Vahn wished he could match her energy. “Everything is right again. Do you feel it now? The ley line?”
It was there. Bright and clear without all the noise heaped upon it. Vahn nodded and Orleia beamed at him.
“And that’s how it should always feel. I’ll make sure the hamlet nearby remembers to keep this place fixed this time so this won’t happen again.”
It almost seemed too easy, but if it worked, it worked. Hawke settled on his knees beside Vahn, wearing an expression of pure amazement. Vahn chuckled.
“Holy shit,” Hawke whispered. “You can do that?”
Vahn laughed. “I can’t do that all the time!”
“The ley line helps!” Orleia insisted and Hawke waved his hand at her like it was a trivial addition. She rolled her eyes and stood. She barely even wobbled, but when Vahn tried, his legs protested the movement. “Thank you both so much. Without your help, well, I wouldn’t have gotten this far.” She came over and helped steady Vahn. “Where are you two headed? I can show you where the hamlet is if you want to rest.”
Hawke was shaking his head, although Vahn wouldn’t have minded going with her. “Hoping to get to Sonnersfield by sundown,” he said. “It’s not that far, right?”
“Nope!” Orleia turned and pointed through the trees. “You’ll cross a large bridge that direction and then there’s a dip in the land where you’ll find it. The river runs toward it.” She smiled at them softly. “It was nice meeting you both though. Maybe our paths will cross again one day?”
Vahn returned the smile and nodded. “I’d be happy to run into you again. Maybe you can teach me more.”
“I’d love to.” Orleia bent down and pecked him on the cheek and then straightened her back to do the same to Hawke. “Hopefully next time you can meet Cassie. She’d adore you both!”
Vahn and Hawke walked her back to the crossroads they’d met at and watched her go. Once she was far enough away, heading toward the tops of the hamlet chimneys puffing out smoke into the air, Hawke nudged Vahn in the side.
“I think she liked you.”
Vahn smothered a laugh and pushed Hawke’s elbow. “Merely as an equal. I hope we can meet again, though.” He peered up at Hawke. “Thank you for your voice again.”
Hawke’s lips spread into a shy smile and he turned away. He gazed at the river a few paces away and scratched the underside of his chin in thought. “You think the river cleared up?” His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he glanced at Vahn. “A nice, steamy dip is perfect for aches, right?”
Vahn pushed Hawke gently, especially when he waggled his eyebrows, and stepped in front of him. From here the river certainly looked clearer. He faced Hawke and thought a moment. “Oh, is it only aches? I think you’ve simply been trying to get me out of my clothes.”
The tease must have been too much. Hawke very quickly strode past Vahn, hiding his flushed face with the hand pushing his hair back, and Vahn hurried after him as he tried to swallow his laughter.
“No, come on, Hawke! Let’s check! I’ll be good!”
All that came out of Hawke’s throat was a grumble and then laughter. Vahn couldn’t help but let his own follow suit, especially the way the sound made magic trickle out after it.
“All right, all right.” Hawke took Vahn’s wrist and tugged him faster. “C’mere so I can toss you in!”
And he actually did. Vahn had just heated the water to an acceptable level when Hawke made good on his word. He picked up Vahn, who couldn’t stop laughing, and threw them both into the water, clothing and all.
🙡🙢
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