Gumber - Year 1465

19 May

Damien threw a bucket of used water onto the grass as he had done many times. The backyard of the manor sat several yards behind him. He loved going beyond the property limits where the forest was open and wild. Here, there were no footpaths that attracted attention, no books to study, no chores to be done. He could breathe the woodland air and pace about the area with no fences.

From several paces away, he could hear Lila and Naelen bantering to each other as they sparred. Sounds carried much further in the woods than inside the manor grounds, and he could hear their wooden training sticks clashing against each other. But it struck Damien as odd because on any given day, Lila and Naelen preferred to spar inside the training circles of their backyard. In fact, most of their private training was held there, in the gauntlet of a field that had been built especially for them.

Damien drew closer to the sounds until he made out the two teenage elves amongst the trees. It seemed Lila had the upper hand and Naelen was holding up fairly against her despite his disadvantage of age and size. He parried Lila's nonstop slashes in a zig-zag pattern until he had an opening and lunged at her chest, but Lila was quick to dodge by pivoting her body. Naelen stabbed nothing but air, and his sister teased him for it.

"My baby brother, trying to prove he can win."

"Urr." Naelen glared at her. He overcompensated his next lunge with too much force. His arm stretched into Lila's space, his back bent too forward.

"Huh." Lila tilted her head, gazing at her brother's awkward stance. Raising her stick, she whipped him across the back.

"Ah!" Naelen cried at the sting, his feet stumbled forward until he regained balance. "Did you have to do that, Lil?"

"Aw, did I hurt you? You shouldn't have left yourself open."

Naelen rubbed the sore welt on his back. When he noticed Damien standing there, he took his frustration out on him. "Don't you have work to be doing?"

Damien held up his empty bucket and said, "When Kallus sends me outside, it usually means I'm done for the day. Besides, he left about an hour ago. Don't let me interfere, keep training."

Lila took position for another round. "Come on, Naelen. This time I'll give you an opening."

Naelen let out a curse. "I told you not to call me that! It's annoying enough that Damien already does."

Lila laughed. "But it seems to fit you so well, you can be a bit of an ass."

Naelen closed his eyes, reining his temper in. "If you insist on calling me Naelen, then I'm always going to call you Lilathanor."

"Go ahead," she shrugged. "I'm not insulted by my birth name."

He held up his stick. "Take your shot, then."

Lila swung at him with her training stick, only to be blocked. Her brother's stance was formidable, and his resolve was more steadfast than it was a few moments ago. He pushed Lila backward several inches and moved into a downstroke. Lila blocked, but failed to parry it effectively. With quick feet, Naelen spun around and took a hit on Lila's open rib.

"Ouch." She hissed at the pain of getting whipped. "That does hurt. I wasn't really going to give you an opening, you know that, right?"

"I figured." Naelen let down his rod, savoring his small victory. "But I got you that time, admit it."

Lila snickered. "Never."

Tucking the sticks under her arm, she faced the manor grounds with a hand on her waist. "I think that's good for today," she said. "Let's go back in, I'm starving."

As she moved, Damien and Naelen fell in step behind her like the subordinate brothers they were. Such was life in the House of Kallus; Lila usually took the lead, even for a simple trip to the kitchen.

Naelen muttered to Damien under his breath. "I totally won. You saw that, right?"

"Yes." Damien feigned praise. "You really got her there."

Inside, Tenila appeared to welcome the three youths. She was quite used to the teenagers needing food whenever they came in from outside— Lila and Naelen, especially.

"There's some fruit slices and peanut butter in the kitchen," Tenila said. "Go help yourselves."

The three of them did just that. Standing around the central island in the kitchen, they devoured the fruit spread Tenila had prepared. Damien was used to being the quiet one during snack time, but he found the moment was right to bring up a topic that interested him, so he turned to Lila.

"Have you heard back from the Fighters Academy in Careth?" he asked.

"Not yet." Lila kept her voice hushed. "How do you even know about that?"

"Just harmless gossip," Damien shrugged. "I'm glad you applied."

"We'll see what comes of it." She tucked her hair behind one ear. "And promise not to gossip any further. I don't want Mom and Dad to know just yet."

"Why are you looking at me?" Naelen asked.

"Because you've been talking." Lila narrowed her eyes.

"Me? Come on, sis, I would never spill your secrets."

"Then how does Damien know? You're the only one I told."

Damien nodded and grinned. "It was him," he said, causing Naelen to punch his shoulder. "Ow."

Lila leaned in, her eyes shifting between her brothers. "It's our little secret for now," she said.

"Let me get this straight—" Damien chuckled, "you're trying to get into the Fighters Academy and Naelen is the best you've got?" 

"You're just pestering me now," the young elf glared. "I want my name back. My real name."

"That's not happening," Damien teased. "You are Naelen to me now, I can't change it in my head."

"But it's so insulting!"

"Try not to think of it as an insult," Lila came in. "He really means it as a pet name, you know that, right?"

Naelen raised his brow, unconvinced.

A stirring in the kitchen caught their attention, and they all turned to see Kallus standing there, seeming petrified by silence.

"Hi Dad." Lila waved at him. "Back from the Tribunal already?"

"Hm." Kallus stepped toward Damien with a wary look. "It seems Ashlyn has returned to Gumber again. It also seems she is summoning you, Damien."

"Me?" Damien pointed to himself. "What does she want?"

Kallus handed him a tiny white envelope with a handwritten note inside.

"Alright..." Damien skimmed the letter. "So...I'm to have supper with her?"

"Only if you accept the invitation. I would advise that you not."

Not a summons, Damien realized, an invitation. He had never been accepted to an occasion before, but it seemed Ashlyn wanted his company. Damien understood the gravity of what that meant in elven culture; the highest form of friendship.

"Ashlyn is my friend." Damien failed to realize he said it out loud. The idea was so striking— so appalling— that he would a have a friend. "Hmm...I suppose I could go. I gather she doesn't intend to stay long."

"Then go and make yourself ready," Kallus nodded. "I would personally escort you there."

When he left, Damien noticed how teasingly his siblings now looked at him. "What?" he shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

Lila crossed her arms. "It is a big deal," she said. "You don't have friends in your life. You work, you read, you go to bed— I've never seen you connect with anyone outside this House."

"That is a fair point," Naelen agreed. "You're really closed-off."

"She just happened to save my life, that's all." Damien looked down at the fruit spread. He could sense Lila reading his body language, scanning his expression.

"Are you...nervous?" she asked.

"Psh, why would I be nervous?"

"I can help you, you know."

What was there to help? Sure, Damien preferred his ratty work clothes while operating down in the forge, that didn't mean he was totally unpresentable.

"What do you mean help?"

"I mean your hair— and that ugly brown shirt!"

"Alright, I see what you're saying," he cut her off. "You don't have to pester me."

At Calda's house, Damien stepped onto the deck and knocked on the door. Behind him, Kallus stood on the grass with his arms crossed. The elf's expression could have been anger or bitterness, maybe both?

"Damien!" Ashlyn chirped when she opened the door. She wore a flowing pink dress, her brown hair was set in a wrap-around braid, and pearl jewels hung down from her ears. "How are you?"

"Uh..." Damien glanced back at Kallus. The boy had learned about proper manner when it came to being a guest in someone's House, that it was custom to exchange pleasantries. "I'm doing well. How are...you?"

"Fine, thank you." Ashlyn gestured him in and acknowledged Kallus with a shy nod. "Thank you for bringing him, Kallus. My mother will see him back."

With a wave, Kallus turned and left Damien to endure this supper alone. Lila had dressed Damien in his best outfit: a dark gray shirt with some flaring around the arms and biceps. His pants were clean, his shoes were shined, his hair was combed.

"Se turessé," Calda greeted near the doorway, leaning in and kissing his forehead. "Please, sit. We're more than ready to eat."

After a year inside the House of Kallus, Damien had grown used to supper being an opulent ordeal, but here in Calda's house, it was more simple. The meal was a pot pie filled with chicken and vegetables smothered in a creamy white sauce, a side of buttered potatoes sprinkled with parsley, and a dessert of apple-filled tarts. Simple, but delightful.

"I do hope Kallus is looking after you well," Calda said. "You seem healthier, so that's a start."

Damien nodded, forking a bite of pie into his mouth.

"Yes, I've learned a lot, like how to pour and shape metal. It's difficult, but I enjoy it. Oh, and Lanara's been having me read- mostly history books, but I like them better than fiction and poetry and such."

"So Kallus is teaching you the ways of the forge? I almost thought he had abandoned that part of his life."

"Hold on." Ashlyn looked up from her plate, squinting. "Kallus teaches you to make weapons but not wield them?"

"I don't really care to wield them," Damien shrugged. "Even if I wanted to, I doubt he'd teach me. He doesn't even train his own children, he just has a swordmaster do it."

"Hm. Strange, I thought Kallus was a swordmaster."

"Oh, he is," Damien said, "but he hasn't told me much beyond that. How goes the Mages Academy?"

"It's good," she said. "Another year closer to my destiny, I guess."

Damien stifled his laughter at the thought, that a Sorceress would believe in destiny.

"You know that doesn't exist, right?"

Ashlyn deflected his question saying, "I see your hair has grown in, it looks nice."

"Oh." Damien touched the top of his fringy mane. "Yeah."

"And you've put on more muscle."

"I have?" He looked down at himself. For all he cared, he was still skinny. "Eh, I guess so."

Calda scooted out from the table and went to check on the tarts warming in the oven. "Excuse me," she muttered. In that time, Ashlyn placed her fork down and laid her arm across the table, almost touching Damien but not quite.

"I wanted to ask...have you remembered anything since I saw you last? It's been a year, surely some of your memories have returned by now."

So that's what this invitation was about; the girl wanted answers that Damien was unable to give. Had it really been a year, and still he didn't have any recollection?

"Look, Ash—Ashlyn, I have no idea how I ended up in Githal, everything before is bits and pieces. I don't like sharing my life with people, so please stop asking."

Ashlyn's face grew soft. She could feel Damien's discomfort, he knew, but how could he shield an empath from his pain? His past? It made him sigh, place his hands under the table.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"For what?"

"That I can't give you answers."

"I think you're the one who needs answers," she said.

"And why is that?"

"Well...I've been doing some research and, there is no record of anyone living or dead with your particular gifts. Don't you want to understand why?"

"Gifts? No, it's not a gift, Ashlyn." He unfastened his sleeves and held his wrists out. "This is my curse. I may be able to evade Baldemar but someone will always want me for it, I know that much."

"Want you for your blood?" she puzzled.

"Yes."

"I'm not talking about your blood, Damien, I'm talking about your power."

"It doesn't matter! Whatever you call it, it's all the same."

"But that makes no sense." She frowned. "Dark magic and blood magic are not the same."

Damien let out a groan. He could practically see the little cogs in the girl’s head turning. “I don’t know much when it comes to dark magic, but I know it comes from blood.”

"So, your blood is the source of your power?" Ashlyn looked up, her face sobering at the thought. "Then what are you, Damien?"

"I'm just a freak," he said, poking at his meal. He did have an appetite a few moments ago, now it was gone. "Nothing more."

"Hmm..." This made Ashlyn more curious, despite Damien's efforts. He leaned back in his chair.

"You really want to figure me out, don't you? Just like Baldemar did."

"No," she said, "nothing like Baldemar. There are more gentle ways to understand you."

"Right, let me stop you there. I don't need you to dig into me."

"You want to understand too." She pointed to his heart. "I can tell you're burning to know the truth, and I can help you find it, Damien."

Reaching, Ashlyn's hand sparked and glowed with a warm, pale light. Even from a few inches away, Damien could sense the heat radiating off it. Pure mage power, small and condensed, rested inside Ashlyn's palm. Damien sank away from her hand.

"Eh...but I don't want you reading me."

"Why not?"

"I would hate myself for making you live through it," he said, looking down. "Please don't read my mind."

"Alright..." Ashlyn nodded slowly, letting the sparks of her fingers fade. "Then I propose another idea."

"What is it?" Damien glanced up.

"There's someone in the Heart of Gumber who could read you without penetrating your mind. Her name is Lothira."

"Is she an empath like you?"

"No, but she is a capable telepath. She's my friend, she'd do anything I ask of her. I could ask her to help you."

"Hm." Damien had to ponder it. On one hand, he didn't wish to make his past a problem for Ashlyn, on the other, he needed to know why he had lost a good chunk of memory. Sure, his abilities could make his mind a bit fuzzy after the fact, but according to Ashlyn, he had lost about twelve days' worth of time— if not more. Though he had no desire to remember, he needed to know the reason.

"Alright," he said after a long while. "We can go see this Lothira."