Dreamer: The Eighth Key book 1

The Root of the Matter

The Root Of The Matter

“… Yes Sir.” Sumrian looked like he knew he had been acting like a pompous jerk. He must not have been able to help himself. He took a long look at Thistale before he turned on heel and returned to Myrid, Tathlyn, and Diraimeir. The Bard plopped down on one of the many pillows that had been set up around a low table filled with fruits and wine, exhausted.

“Get in trouble, did you?” Miryd commented, plucking a grape off of a vine and giving it a little squeeze before popping it into her mouth.

“…”

“We heard everything. In fact, Tathlyn was about to come and drag you back here by your ears.”

“Since when did you and the Fai get so chummy?”

“Tathlyn. And you know me. I like to talk. Is that a problem?”

Tathlyn watched the two bicker with an amused smirk. “Didn’t the good doctor tell you to fetch someone?” He added as he leaned on his arm, that smirk grew even wider.

“Yeah. If you heard it already, then why don’t you tell him to go? Right Di-… Dira already went, didn’t he?” Sumrian groaned. This is just not my day, is it?

“You bet. If you stop being so pigheaded, you might notice things from time to time.” The Fai replied.

“Why don’t you stuff it?” He snapped. As soon as it left his lips, Miryd smacked him squarely on the back of his head.

“This is a place of healing. Mind your mouth.” She scolded. “Honestly, what would you have done if you had gotten us kicked out? Do you even have a brain in your head, or is it all hot air?”

Sumrian crossed his arms, huffing heavily. When she’s right, she’s right. He could not argue with any of it and come out the victor no matter how much he wanted to. “I know. I was rash.”

                                                                                      *

While Sumrian was scolded, Diraimeir slipped away behind the hanging cloth at Bha’adra’s request. The nymph stood over the doctor’s shoulder, peering down at the little box just as the Daeva opened it. Resting inside was a tiny tear-shaped geode with clear crystals throughout it that glinted like a rainbow when it caught the light.

“There you are. Hold out your palm, boy.” The doctor dropped the pebble into Diraimeir’s hand for now. “Now, follow what I say, as carefully as you can. We cannot afford any mistakes.”

“Um… Are you sure you want me to do this? Wouldn’t it be better if you did it yourself? “

“I am positive. What we are about to do will take both of us. Believe it or not, but you are getting the easy part of this.”

Diraimeir sucked in a breath, nodding. He was ready though his palms became sweaty and shook. “I’m sorry about this.” He told the girl below.

“Take the pebble and bring it to her forehead. I am going hold her down as firmly as I can. We will count to three, and then I want you to press it into her skin with the crystal side out.” The Daeva told him. Diraimeir shot him a look of disbelief. This is supposed to be her treatment? How? “Just do it. Trust me.” Well, he did not have a reason not to trust him. “One… Two…. THREE.”

Diraimeir dug the stone as quickly as he could into the center of Thistale’s forehead with his thumb. She hissed, and her body contorted underneath him as she shrieked like some banshee in the night that found and marked its prey. Even with Bha’ dara holding her down as she fought, Diraimeir caught a good elbow right upside the nose as he tried and failed to dodge her flailing. She screamed and wailed like someone was murdering her. But Diraimeir, determined to put her to rights, would not pull away even when Sumrian burst through the curtains like an angry bull and tried to force him away.

“ARE YOU CRAZY? You’re going to kill her.” He billowed, pulling Diraimeir upwards by his middle. Miryd and Tathlyn were right behind him, though they were all about hindering Sumrian’s blind stupidity.

Miryd grabbed Sumrian by the ear. “Let him be. I am sure there is a reason for what Dira is doing, you blazing i***t. What did I just tell you about that temper? Tathlyn. Help the kid…” She cried out. There was no telling how long she could keep Sumrian off of Diraimeir.

Tathlyn did not hesitate in the slightest. He brought his forearm downward swiftly upon Sumrian’s arms and forced them apart. All in the same fluid motion, he shoved his chest forward into Diraimeir’s back and aligned himself up with his frame. The Fai’s hand found Diraimeir’s and pushed on the back of it to help lodge the crystal deeper. It had to be done.

There was a deep boom of energy first. As it dissipated, a great sigh came from the Draconic as Thistale calmed instantly. Her condition improved drastically in a matter of mere minutes. The inky black goop dried and fell away as the traces of it in Thistale’s skin receded. The crystals within the geode tinted, becoming cloudy before it finally transitioned into a swirling and unstable midnight black. Tathlyn eased up, helping Diraimeir get away in his stupor by pulling him back a few steps by his underarms.

“It is finished.” Bha’ dara sighed, sitting back. “Good job, my boy.”

Sumrian too calmed down. He looked crestfallen. “What… Did you do?” He managed to get out as Miryd let go of him, and he dropped to the ground. All of his fight and energy had fled away now, only leaving him enough to tug himself to Thistale’s side and mutter. “Thank the Goddess she’s alright… I’m sorry, kid. I was wrong. I was petrified; you know what I mean?” The man hovered his fingers over the geode as though he was contemplating removing it. Though, he never got that far. Neither Diraimeir nor Bha’ dara would allow the work that had just been done to be abolished by carelessness. The doctor smacked the hand away.

“Leave it be. If you remove it, she will deteriorate past the point of healing.” He snapped, grasping Sumrian’s wrist as a warning. “That is a prism crystal. They used to be very well known when the Goddess’s magic followed over the world. Now they are few and hard to come by. We do not have another one.”

“You used something so precious to save her? Why?” Diraimeir asked. We could never afford to pay that artifacts worth in a million years.

“Because she needed saving. The world may have begun to grow darker, but not all have such a l**t for worldly things. That trinket is better used than being forgotten and turning into dust. There are still good people in this world, Diraimeir.” He mussed up the Illitar’s hair with a faint smile. What was it with people and doing that? “Besides, I promised I would do all I could.” He rose to his feet and pulled the blanket up to Thistale’s neck. “She needs to rest now. The geode will hold the darkness within her at bay so long as it stays where it is, though she will most likely be weaker for it. It is up to you all to find a way to remove the curse for good.” He said, excusing them all now that the treatment had been explained better.

“Thank you,” Sumrian said so quietly that it was almost missed. He must have hated to admit that he was wrong. Or proven to be overly passionate… But this whole mess seems to be all Sumrian’s fault in the first place. Had he been more vigilant when he and Thistale were children, all of the hardships she had to endure throughout her time would never have come to be. She could have had a promising future.

“It should have been me.” Sumrian scolded himself softly, as though he had done so hundreds of times before. Diramier pursed his lips at it.

                                                                                      *

While Thistale rested and Diraimeir gave their host a hand around the complex, the rest of the party decided it was best to get on the same page. What exactly would their new goal be considering all that had transpired so far? The meeting took place just as the sunset that day. It was mildly warm, much more so then when they had arrived. It was the type of day where spring rested on the cusp of summer but remained pleasant and dry without the season’s humidity making things uncomfortable.

They sat now in the center of one of the Medical district’s many gardens, on a platform surrounded by the shallow water of a reflection pool. One thin bridge connected it all to the central patio, but otherwise, it was relatively private. Giant lilies bloomed upon golden crested pads floating around them, casting pink and gold blurs upon the water. Lush bushes of raspberries circled the pool and offered them a little more cover than other places in the city would.

A low, beautifully carved pergola, covered in ivy and strung golden cloth, sheltered them from the last bit of the sun. Tathlyn began to light the tiny oil lamps sitting on each of the structure’s beams. Wine and some dried meats had been prepared as an incentive to get along, particularly in Sumrian’s case. In true Daeva fashion, fluffy pillows were strewn around a low table haphazardly. Warm and inviting and perfect for the discussion ahead.

Tathlyn was the first to speak, waving the stick he had used to light the lamps around to put it out. “I think we should stick together from here on out. Dira and Thistale were destined to meet, though to what end, I do not know. With everything that has happened since we left Cidraedell, something bigger than us all must have brought us here.” That is a fair assumption. He thought it over a little more.

“I happen to agree. You know, I have always wanted to go on an adventure.” Miryd chimed in. “The wife of a merchant was a boring one. Since meeting Thistale, it’s been anything but.” Even if it sadly cost the loss of someone she loved, she probably feels as though it freed her. I can’t even imagine. “I cannot speak for everyone, but you have the use of my wagon.” She said, already decided on the matter.

“Is that so?” Tathlyn gave a rich chuckle. “Have not had enough of it yet, hu?”

“Suppose not.”

“What about you, Sumrian?”

“I don’t mind it.” He said quietly, looking off in the direction of where the Vale lay tucked in bed. “But if we are going to travel together, we need to make sure we find a way to get rid of the poison in Thistale for good.”

Tathlyn was almost taken aback. He had thought Sumrian was going to need much more convincing than that. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You really love her, don’t you?” He asked though he didn’t wait for the answer that he knew was not going to come anyways. It was pretty obvious.

“I bet we can find those answers on Cree. It’s where I was told to take Diraimeir. His Haun seemed to think that the scholars living there have all the knowledge we seek. And it’s not just in his dreams I am worried about either. Twice now, that boy has wandered into places he has no business even knowing about. And both times, he’s come out with something that apparently Gya’a had set aside for him nearly a century ago. I could not stop him either time. Nor do I think I was ever meant to. Meeting Thistale… Well, it’s strange, isn’t it? Two people from opposite ends of the continent looking so alike? And if what you said about your witch is true, then there are bound to be others who know about them.” Tathlyn poured himself some of the wine and took a hearty sig of it. “That’s where we need to go next. Cree.”

Miryd rose a brow. “Gifts from the Goddess? How is that even possible?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe she was aware of her demise well before her death. Seeing as ‘Dreaming’ was one of her gifts, I would imagine she could have found a way to return. If this is so, then I am sure the Library is the best place to start looking.”

“Anmarite knew. At least I am pretty sure she did. She had a book that she called an Index of Accounts.” Sumrian recalled, still not looking at either Miryd or Tathlyn. “I saw it once, by mistake. It was just before I helped Thistale flee to Xune. Written in it was the account of Thistale’s mother… The one tasked with killing the Goddess, commissioned by Bardridor.”

Silence fell around them. Even the nightly insects seemed to hush as eyes fell on Sumrian. Miryd swallowed thickly. “Her… Mother…” She repeated.

“That’s right.”

“That would make Thistle over a hundred years old…” Miryd knew Vale could live much longer than most, but she had never been clear on the scope of how long. Plus, Thistale looked so young.

“She is nearing her hundred and ninth birthday. You may not know it, but Vale are born with dragon’s hearts and can they live countless years. Far longer than any other known race of Sharn. Even the Goddess’s own children do not live so long. “

“But… You said you both shared a childhood. That hardly lines up.”

“I did. And that is the truth. It’s an enchantment on my part, thanks to that witch. Don’t get me wrong. I hadn’t asked for it, nor do I regret it. I agreed to protect Thistale long before meeting that woman, but I was not aware of what she meant. I was far too young to understand.” Now he needed wine. Sumrian swiped Tathlyn’s cup away from him and drained it.

 “Thistle is… Was one of the highborn, from Valecosta. I was very young when I met her—maybe four or five at the most. My family was impoverished and starving, you see. There were a lot of us, and most days, we did not eat.” He paused and moved to refill the glass in his hand so he could have the will to continue under the eyes of the other two. “My own mother sold me to Thistale’s father as a means of survival. Not only for myself but my siblings as well. They got the coin, and I had a sure meal to fill my belly every night. This was a few years after the fall of the Goddess, actually.

 I remember being told that I was meant to be Thistale’s guardian in the absence of her mother. Me. This dirty little thing.

She was a year and a half older than me, but even so, we became an inseparable duo worthy of all sorts of trouble. One day, we were playing in the stables of her father’s estate, as we often did when we heard yelling coming from the main house. Usually, we would have paid no mind to it. But this was much different. There was an argument between her father and some strange man who arrived earlier that morning. I didn’t get to hear enough of it to know what it was about, though. Then they both pulled swords on each other. Afterward, when we saw him leave, I heard him mention Thistale’s mother.

 The intruder was so upset that he told us we had better run for it if we knew what was good for us. Never stopped any of his badmouthing either, even as he rode away… All the while, he swore that he would return with others and take us all away.

Thistale’s Father ordered me to pack some things for us. He kept saying that we had a long trip ahead. I didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t think to. I already learned it was best to do as I was told without prying by then. We left Valecosta to make way for a safer home. Thistale’s father chartered a merchant’s ship to take us around the coast and up towards where the Bardridian mountains touch the sea. There, an old fortress waited for us. Her Father swore we would be out of harm’s way in our new home.

Isn’t that what they always said? Sure, we were fine for a little while. A whole three years, in fact. But that childlike euphoria didn’t last. I would have given anything to go back to those days where Thistale and I could continue to live in blissful innocents.

A few years passed without a single word from the outside world. Not even the fact that Thistale’s mother was alive and being extorted, though we had believed her dead way before I ever was made a part of her house. Needless to say, our whereabouts were eventually discovered. Thistale’s father knew it and tried to prevent it. Wanted to hide us, by my recollection, but it was just not enough. Men cloaked in black came with swords and spears and fire, killing everyone that got in their way as they advanced upon us.

 Thistale’s father tried to fight and failed miserably to protect us. He had always been a weaker man, sickly and frail, more so in the days of our hiding. He’d probably never seen a proper blade in his life, let alone wielded one. When he fell, we were taken to Holt’s Peak, where we were separated. Thistale was cast into a deep dark pit in the earth atone for her mother’s “crimes,” and I went into the servitude of the witch Anmarite.

I didn’t put two and two together until I saw that book all these years later. Thistale’s mother was never formally charged with the death of Gya’a, but it became a well-known fact that she committed the crime, and she paid dearly for it. When really, she’d been at the mercy of the very people that sentenced her daughter to the darkness, where she was blinded with some of the last true magics left.

In the book, it had been noted how special a birth Thistale was. Her mother discovered her pregnancy only weeks after Gya’a’s death and managed to hide it from those above her. You know, her mother wasn’t even of the noble class. She was a servant—the favored mistress of a bachelor lord who was so frail that he swore to take no wife. Though, I believe that he refused to because marrying beneath him was not permissible. Thistale was born and hidden away from anyone that could bring harm to her.

Anmarite wanted me to believe the fall of Gya’a was Thistale’s fault, not her mother’s. That she was the reason Sharn was starting to crumble away. I allowed her to taint and twist what I knew to be valid for a very long time. Deep down, I was aware that what was happening had nothing to do with her. But I was a child still. It was easy to persuade me otherwise. I hated her with every fiber of my being, just like Anmarite wanted me to.

Shortly after I stole a glimpse of that text, her mother was brought to the high courts. They forced Thistale… The poor wretch that she was, to drive a blade into her heart and I… I actually believed it was a fitting end for her. I betrayed her that day. I became one of them. Yet Anmarite still instilled in me the will to protect her. Maybe it was because I knew, deep in my soul, she didn’t deserve any of it.”

“And what of this book? How did that change your mind?” Tathlyn managed, breaking the awkward silence that was bound to come after such a tale.

“Well, it was not just a tiny glance I was able to get. I was asked to bring it to my mistress. In curiosity, I did thumb through it.” He admitted. “There were several similar accounts of that time written into it with different suggestions on what happened and what should be done about it. A handful of other well-known families were also involved in the crafting of the Goddess’s fall. Four of which roam free without a care in the world to this day. Not to mention, hold seats of Bardridian power still. They used Thistale as a scapegoat. She deserved so much better than that. She was only a child too.” He rubbed his face.

 “I had to pretend to be what the witch wanted me to be since I found out the truth. And I needed to atone for my disloyalty to Thistale and her family. I intended to free her long before now. I just never got the chance until Anmarite decided to start making her move. I just hope it’s not too late.”

“That’s… Quite the story.” Miryd said, getting up from where she sat to move closer to Sumrian. She slung an arm over his shoulder. “That explains why you keep losing your mind over the little things. We should still go with Tathlyn and Diraimeir to Cree. It sounds like everything will come to light there. You need answers just as much as they do. I won’t abandon you to your own ruin.” She promised him, running her fingers down over his arm soothingly. “Or Thistale, either.”

Tathlyn nodded. “Nor will we. Dira can be a bit of a handful, but he is a good kid. He is still young yet, for his kind. And I don’t have anything to lose in the grand scheme of things. Though it is a debt that brought me here, I am fairly certain that had I meant him on the road; I would have agreed to watch over him regardless. He needs watching.” He said, adding that last bit in jokingly.

“He seems that way.” Miryd agreed.

“As soon as Thistale wakes, we should go. I don’t want to linger in one place for too long. Anmarite could be closer to us then we think. If she has anything to do with it, I’m sure both Thistale and Diraimeir are in grave danger.”

“Most likely. Heading through the open ocean would be far too dangerous this time of year. The seas north of us are not kind on the best of days, but the winds in the spring are deadly. We should sail up along the shore alone and in the secrecy of the night. Then we should follow the straights around the Isles of Elrondaer to avoid the rocks of the Treasure Coast. If we do this, we can head towards Cree in shallower, safer waters.”

“You have been to Cree before, Tathlyn?” Myrid squeaked,  amazed at how well-traveled the Fai was.

“I have. So please trust me when I say this is the best course.” He was not thrilled to have to board another watercraft, but it was unavoidable. Cree was an island after all.

“Alright. As long as you are positive.”

With the way laid out for them now, the three of them ate and drank until a tired-looking Diraimeir found them. Tathlyn chuckled as he practically fell into the pillows with a pleased sigh. That boy was the only one he knew that could fall asleep the very moment he hit a bed. Even if Diraimeir did just work most of the evening, he slept without a care in the world. Perhaps, he had felt the need to earn his keep. Miryd took down one of the plentifully extra hanging cloths and used it to cover the Illitar up while he snoozed with a motherly smile. Sumrian blew out the lamps, and Tathlyn covered up the snacks. Diraimeir had the right idea. It was time to rest and replenish themselves for the next leg of their journey.