FWFW 3 - 84

As promised, here's the final chapter of FWFW book 3. Please let me know what you think. I'm particularly looking to hear about any big loose ends I left dangling. I know there are lots of little things that will (hopefully) come up as plot points in future books - things like the Yovashi texts, Ykleedra's brother, the twins, various Fae machinations, etc.

I'll post a survey for fans of this series to see who you'd like to see featured in the next book.

Thanks for reading and for your support!

-Plum

Morgan watched the lights moving around the deck of the downed airship, still listing sideways on the grassy field north of the colony’s wall. Engineers from First Landing had been combing over it for days now, studying the mechanisms that made it work, planning their iterations and improvements. He didn’t doubt that First Landing would have their own, better, ships flying within a year.

He felt a mixture of shame and pride when he recalled Boris suggesting the mounting of their new, rifled Energy canons to the ship almost immediately. If there was one thing humans were good at, it was waging war. He felt Issa’s cool fingers lace with his and looked down to see she’d come out to the balcony with him. She held a glass of wine up to him, and he took it. “None for you?”

“I probably would be fine, considering my advancements, but I think I’ll keep the drinking to a minimum.” She pressed his hand against her stomach, and Morgan smiled, savoring the soft warmth. He hadn’t felt the twins move yet, and Issa assured him it was too early. Still, he sometimes imagined he felt a little hand or foot pressing into his fingers. He took a sip of the wine, sighing almost wistfully. It was a rich, smooth vintage made from a very dark grape that grew southwest of Tarn’s Crossing.

“I hope the council doesn’t get antsy and jump the gun with this ship or any new ones they make. I hope they give me time to make things happen with diplomacy.”

“They promised. You’ve got plenty of time, don’t you think? You better not be gone more than a few months!” She squeezed his hand, her tone edging toward scolding.

“Yeah. No, you’re right. I’ll be here for their birthday, don’t worry,” Morgan said, lifting his arm over her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side.

“I wish you weren’t bringing that woman with you,” Issa said softly, and Morgan sighed again, this time far from wistfully—this was a topic they’d beat to death.

“I know, love. I know. I promise to keep her at arm’s length, and I mean it. I don’t trust her at all, other than as far as I believe that she believes she can benefit from helping us. As long as she sees some gain in it, I think she’ll be a valuable asset where I’m going. I don’t even know how to get to the capital, let alone who to speak with, how to arrange an audience, all of that stuff.”

“I know. I wouldn’t have thought of going to the academy through the gateway and traveling from there. That was a good idea, I’ll admit.”

“Well, we might have thought of it. Heck, Olivia might have suggested it. Anyway, yeah, it was a good idea. We’ll travel from the academy to Persi Gables and try to book passage toward the capital. Shouldn’t take too long. You know I’m bringing a portal stone, so the trip back will be very quick!” He kissed the top of her head in punctuation.

“Arthur wasn’t happy that you wouldn’t bring him or other council members along.” As she spoke, Morgan sighed again. Was she trying to remind him of all the arguments he’d had over the last couple of days? Was this a review of the problems with his thinking before he left?

“Yes, but you know very well why that is. The same reason you agreed not to come along—if Tanna does double-cross me or if I’m met with hostility at the capital, I don’t want to have to worry about another person. I want to be able to teleport or fly or fight without holding anything back. You know it’s the best move.”

“I do. I do. I’m sorry I’m rehashing all this—I think I’m trying to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing by staying home. I feel guilty, Morgan. I feel like I should insist, that I should argue with you, even though I want to stay. Isn’t that dumb?”

“God, no! The last thing you are is dumb, Issa. I’m glad you’re going to be safe here, and I’m glad I’ll know it. While I’m out there, dealing with who-knows-what kind of bullshit, I’ll be able to take comfort in that—I’ll think of you and Ykleedra and Til, and nothing else will matter. Let’s not forget about the Far Scribe books we bought!”

“You better write me an update every night!” Issa smiled and reached for his glass, stealing a sip of his wine. The Far Scribe books were going to be a huge benefit, Morgan mused. Being able to keep in touch with the colony, report on his activities, and get input from the council, would make his task a lot easier. The books were pretty neat, too—whatever he wrote in his copy showed up in Issa’s copy and vice versa.

“You think you’re close to level forty-one?” Issa asked, moving to lean against the balcony so she could look directly at him.

“Yeah, I think so. Finneal was no pushover. My status sheet is getting ridiculous. The way my intelligence is compounded by my will to create my Energy pool—it feels like cheating.”

Issa leaned forward and squeezed his hand between the two of hers, “Tell me about your attributes—read me your status page. I want to know how much trouble those old monsters in the capital are in for.”

“All right,” Morgan said, and he obliged:

Status

Name: Morgan Hall

Race: Human (Anemoi Bloodline) - Advanced 2

Class: Void Master - Legendary

Level: 40

Core: Vortex Class - Improved 3

Energy Affinity: 9.2, Void 9.2

Energy: 14,443/14,443

Strength: 100

Vitality: 121

Dexterity: 92

Agility: 140

Intelligence: 248

Will: 217

Points Available: 0

Titles & Feats:

Human Champion, First Hollow Guard, Ardeni Friend, Mark of Loyalty, Yovashi Bane, Legacy of the Azure Paladin, First Vortex Duelist, First Void Adept, First Void Master

Skills:

• System Language Integration - Not Upgradeable
• Animal Taming - Basic
• Stealthy Maneuvers - Basic
• Melee Weapon Mastery - Basic
• Fighting Crane Style - Advanced
• Sword Mastery - Advanced
• Vortex Core Cultivation Drill - Improved
• Backstab - Basic

Spells:

• Energy Drain - Advanced
• Circle of Combat - Improved
• Guard Ally - Basic
• Hollow Charge - Improved
• Azure Burst - Basic
• Azure Sight - Basic
• Vortex Lance - Basic
• Void Wave - Improved
• Void Vision - Improved
• Void Step - Advanced
• Void Window - Basic
• Void Gateway - Improved
• Void Missile - Basic

#

Bronwyn stepped out of the Way Tree, into the gentle late afternoon light of the Fae glade, and inhaled deeply. Ever since she’d taken on the mark of Summer, she’d felt more at home, more relaxed, and more robust when she was in the Fae realm. Before she could talk a walk, savoring the atmosphere, though, the queen’s voice came to her from the edge of the clearing, “And so you’ve left Fanwath. Are you well, daughter?”

“I’m well but not wholly happy. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to Olivia, and you were right about the troubling news. Still, I want her to be happy, so I put on a brave face.” Bronwyn wasn’t lying—acting nonchalant about the other girl at the academy had been very hard, but she’d seen how Olivia had been torturing herself with guilt, and the only thing she’d wanted to do was make her feel better.

If Bronwyn were honest, she’d admit she didn’t know how she felt about Olivia spending time with Adaida. Would they grow closer? Would Bronwyn be forgotten or pushed out? Would it have helped things if she’d made Olivia swear to stay faithful and not so much as glance at another person in longing? In her experience, ultimatums and forced promises only made people resentful. No, she had to leave, but that didn’t mean Olivia had to suffer. Let her find love and comfort where she could—Bronwyn intended to do the same.

“She told you about Somhairle, then?”

“Wait, what?” Bronwyn stepped over the springy grass toward the queen—beautiful, imposing, full of love. The queen was tall, though she didn’t tower over Bronwyn anymore. Her features were impossibly perfect—bow-shaped, full lips, blemish-free skin, huge, liquid eyes where Bronwyn could get lost simply by glancing into their depths, but after spending time with Olivia, she didn’t seem so unbelievable anymore. Even so, Bronwyn, ever under the influence of the queen’s aura, couldn’t help the pleasure that thrilled through her at its touch.

“Somhairle. The agent of Winter. Olivia slew him. She didn’t tell you . . .” for the first time in Bronwyn’s experience, the queen looked surprised, maybe even confused.

“Are you talking about the agent that was supposed to leave her alone because of my bargain? She killed him?” Suddenly the queen’s aura lost some of its impact, and Bronwyn felt an icy knife of panic stab her in the gut.

“Yes, daughter! I thought sure she would tell you, but . . . is it possible she didn’t want to hurt your feelings? She wanted you to feel your sacrifice hadn’t been in vain?”

“Goddamn it!” Bronwyn hissed. “Well? What the fuck am I doing here? I shouldn’t have to leave if their agent fucking failed before he could ‘leave her alone!’”

“Daughter, your bargain wasn’t with me—it was with Faekind. Such things aren’t undone without great costs, and Olivia’s interference doesn’t warrant an annulment. I’m sorry.”

“So I’m screwed? I’m giving up ten years with her for nothing?”

“Not for nothing, dear Bronwyn. You’ve accomplished great things, and they are a shadow of what you will do; this I’m sure of. Olivia is safe; she bloodied Winter’s nose, but your bargain holds—they’ll not send others for retribution, take heart in that.”

“I guess that’s something,” Bronwyn sighed. She’d not held out much hope that things could be reversed, having resigned herself to her fate even before confronting the troll matriarch. “I’m just so frustrated. I’m so mad at myself. I feel like this is all happening because I let you talk me into working with the Fae.” Surprising herself, Bronwyn flopped down to the grass, sitting on her butt, folding her arms over her knees, and refusing to look the queen in the face.

“Bronwyn. Daughter, I know the ways of the Fae are frustrating for mortals. Well, you’re more than a mortal now, but still, you won’t understand our ways for another few hundred years. It takes time and experience dealing with us to start to grasp the nuance of the dance. I’m trying to be as transparent with you as I can—it’s been long, as you know, since I’ve dealt with humans. I know you’re angry with yourself and frustrated at your fate, but I wish you could try to focus on the opportunity before you.”

“Opportunity?” Bronwyn scowled at the grass, reaching down with one hand to rip some blades free.

“Yes! Ten years isn’t so long for you, and I think you know it. You have my favor, Bronwyn, and I intend to reward you. There are places where people and magic have existed for far longer than Fanwath, places like Earth used to be, though without the presence of humans. I have such a place in mind for you to visit, a place of wonder where you can hone your skills, learn new ones, and find treasures lost to the annals of history. I have companions in mind for you—people with similar spirits who will aid in your growth. Does that sound so terrible? When you return to Fanwath, you’ll be stronger, more knowledgable, and ready to aid humanity in its struggles, and I foresee many struggles ahead, daughter.”

Bronwyn looked up from the grass at the beautiful Summer Queen of the Fae, basking in the attention she was giving her. She stuck a blade of grass between her teeth and said, “I guess it’s not that terrible. Olivia said she’d keep loving me, after all.”

“That’s more like it, brave, Summer child. Now, let’s review your status—let me be sure I have the right companions in mind for you.”

“All right,” Bronwyn said, sighing heavily, and then pulling up her status sheet:

Status

Name: Bronwyn Tallow

Race: Human (Fae Bloodline) - Improved 2

Class: Summer Banneret - Epic

Level: 26

Core: Summer Class - Base 7

Energy Affinity: 5.6, Solar - 7.6

Energy: 2430/2430

Strength: 102

Vitality: 80

Dexterity: 68

Agility: 120

Intelligence: 75

Will: 72

Points Available: 0

Titles & Feats:

First Colonist, Underclaw 10, Agent of Summer, Blessing of the Swarm, Blessing of the Herd, Blessing of the Summer Storm

Skills:

• System Language Integration - Not Upgradeable
• Unarmed Mastery - Basic
• Tracking - Basic
• Cartography - Basic
• Spear Mastery - Basic
• Axe Mastery - Improved

Spells:

• Solar Shell - Basic
• Wrath of Summer - Basic
• Solar Arms - Basic
• Mirage Double - Improved

#

Olivia smoothed down her robes, checked that her hair was the way she wanted it, stood up straight, and then knocked on the office door. Her knuckles had just touched the wood when a familiar voice, loud, if a bit shaky, called out, “Come in, Olivia.” She wanted to be surprised, but she wasn’t—somehow, it made sense that Chol ap’Vun would know she was coming. She pulled the door open and stepped into his very cluttered office.

Chol sat behind his desk, nearly obscured by the stacks of tomes, sheaves of paper, and scrolls piled in front of him. His bald, blue head, with its bushy tufts of white hair, was pointed down, and Olivia saw that he was scribbling some tiny notations on a very densely written-upon page. “Hello, Professor.”

“Sit,” he said, not looking up. Olivia turned to the single wooden chair in front of his desk, saw it was piled with books and several dusty cloaks, and then shrugged and lifted the pile of books, setting them on the floor at the corner of his desk—one of the few open areas on the dusty hardwoods. She sat in the chair, leaning back against the lumpy pile of cloaks.

Olivia watched him scribble for a while, then shifted, pushing the cloaks further to the side for comfort, and crossed her legs, determined not to be the first to speak. Several minutes passed, and Olivia began to daydream, thinking of her time with Bronwyn, of their farewell, of all the things she didn’t tell her—Somhairle, her mind-Energy affinity, the people she’d killed, and . . .

“Lot’s on your mind, eh?” Ap’Vun had stopped writing and was regarding her through the multiple lenses on his steampunk-style glasses.

“Yes. It’s been an eventful couple of weeks.”

“Yet here you are, just as I said you’d be, hmm?” Olivia could see he was exceedingly pleased with himself. “Some changes, though, if I’m not wrong. Let’s see here. A bit of an edge to you, eh? Had to kill a man or two?” Olivia’s mouth fell open at the bluntness of his question, and he chortled and continued, “No, no. I can’t see that. I was present for the board meeting, where we all learned about the criminal activities you put to an end. An auspicious start as my apprentice, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t your . . .”

“A minor quibble. What about this other, though?” he asked, reaching up to lift one lens and drop another in front of his bright, yellow eye. “A new affinity? One not entirely sanctioned, if I’m not wrong. We’ll have to approach that delicately. No, no!” he said as Olivia opened her mouth, “Don’t explain it. Let’s, as I said, be delicate. We can tickle that thorn loose when the time is right.”

“As you say, Professor,” Olivia said, happy enough not to talk about the Yovashi book for the time being.

“Well, you’re here, hmm? Ready to take on your first case? A dangerous anomaly has been detected outside a nearby city, Persi Gables. Relip Bol, one of my other assistants, is readying himself to investigate. You’ll go along. Here.” He pushed a large, black-leather bound book her way. “Some studying material for the flight.”

“The flight?” Olivia asked.

“Oh yes—he’ll be taking my airship.”

#

Til’danishea, Til, as her closest friends called her, Tiladia, as an evil mage had named her, walked through the grass, her feet bare, savoring every sensation in the beautiful world of Fanwath. She gazed up at the bright blue sky, even smiling at the steel gray clouds on the horizon—was their first winter storm inbound? How exciting to feel and taste snow again!

The air was crisp, and it tasted good in her lungs; what a wonder that she had lungs! The light breeze played with her shoulder-length silver hair, and she loved the feeling and the glimmer of the impossibly fine, metallic strands; they reminded her of her old body’s scales.

People she passed smiled and waved at her, and she returned the gestures. The men seemed especially eager to greet her, and Til’danishea wondered if Issa had made her too comely—would their advances grow tedious? “Not yet,” she said, smiling at a stocky, red-haired man that ambled by, grinning at her around a large barrel he carried. “Oh Gods, but it feels good to be alive!” she cried, turning her amble into a run, charging for Bronwyn’s hill and the Settlement Stone atop it.

Children laughed with her as she ran by, and people, old and young, watched her with pleasure in their eyes—here was a spirit of joy, someone who might brighten their day simply by passing near. As her bare feet slapped on the cobbled steps and walkway around the stone, Til’danishea slowed her pace, and, huffing for breath, she placed a delicate, pale hand upon the cool, dark surface.

Her eyes unfocused as Til traversed the System menus and, with just a bit of searching, found the option to officially join the rolls of First Landing as a citizen. The System congratulated her and then surprised her with another message:

***Congratulations, Til’danishea! You are being offered a quest as the first of your kind on Fanwath: Traverse the warren of caves in the mountains to the east, clear the way to the portal within, and enter the Crucible. Survive. Reward(s): Commensurate with achievements. Accept? Yes/No.***

“Oh, how fortuitous,” Til said, hovering her finger over the “Yes” selection.