Sweat poured down her forehead as she sat in concentration healing the young mage affront. This was truly the strangest most indescribable feeling she had had healing someone. How much time passed, she didn't know, but she kept healing and meditating, rather than physical damages, of which there were none left, the soul itself seemed bereft, but also brimful! The conundrum was mind-boggling to say the least, when she elaborated this to the man's travel companion, he had relayed the young mage's harrowing experience, although it seemed as if he had left something out...
She closed her eyes as each or her fingers displayed a wisp of an orange flame, she lay her fingers on specific points on the young man and entered his Soul-scape. It was an advanced technique, one which she wasn't sure if she was ready for, but she saw little to no other option, her master would surely disagree, but that was a worry for the future when she returned to the tower for further training.
There were many -scapes within a singular person, mages and warriors had additional -scapes, but they shared the common ones. Mind-scape, Soul-scape, Heart-scape Emotion-scape and life-scape, each vastly different from the other, and each one considered a taboo for outsiders to enter, it was only by the permission of this Lonkar that she had dared enter this forbidden zone, and if she failed, she might leave the soul more damaged than it already was!
. . . .
At first there was ultimate darkness, and from it appeared ten tiny wisps of orange flames, they collided together to form the shape of a transparent orange silhouette shaped by a slow burning fire. Talaitha felt her soul-senses returning, and she soon saw the mage's soul. It appeared exactly as the man she had seen in reality; in the Soul-scape he was a transparent silver colour who was in a comfortable lying position, his clothes were odd, and he was drinking what appeared to be alcohol from a strange clay-pot. This was good news, the fact that his appearance was similar proved that this was not a case of possession, although the outfit certainly raised some questions. The most surprising thing was the way in which the man truly viewed himself, carefree and relaxed, very different from the man that she had seen, who was cautious, confident and quiet.
She quietly floated around the soul manifestation, there were no cracks or other anomalies, this was good as well. Although she was wholly surprised by the manifestation itself, it was clear that this man was young, and young people would often have an ambitious soul manifestation, or one of greed or lust, only with time when one conquered one's demons would the soul change. Just knowing this wouldn't change the soul, her own was one rules by ambition, her manifestation was of herself studying by a desk.
The silhouette moved closer to the soul, this was the easy part, and she had sort of hoped that she would have seen some cracks, because that could have explained away the anomaly, but instead the soul appeared robust, she would have to use the magic Soul-Touch. This magic carried not only risk to the host, but to her as well.
With a slight touch the silhouette made contact as runes formed underneath its transparent hand, and then everything went blank.
. . . .
A week and a half had passed and Grantalo's plans were coming together slowly. Unfortunately, Talaitha was deeply invested in healing the young man, and he could hardly tell her that it would be better if he was dead. He gnashed his teeth, before she had entered the man's Soul-scape she had said that this was an excellent learning opportunity, and she had now been engulfed for two days. The other gypsies from the clandestine Instrument's Guild had already send a couple of people over to work in the shadows, he had also prepared the poison, but for now all they could do was wait. He looked at the passing landscape, and over at the wagon, within which was their targets, he inwardly cursed Talaitha she was only with them on the way back and everything had been fine as such, but the first chance she got, she had actually interrupted his plans. He leaned back in the coach's seat and looked at the sky as he released a heavy sigh, thick cold air releasing in a gaseous mist.
. . . .
The sound of a horn bellowed out deafening Talaitha and bringing her back to her awareness. She had no clue as to what was happening around her, except that it was war! Arrows were flying, men were dying, and warriors were engaged in largescale battle, everything was blurry and moved fast and slow, but one particularly young man kept appearing, stabbed or slapped, he kept going, leading a small group of other young warriors fiercely.
Before she knew it, the scene changed again, and the young man was training in seclusion in the mountains he had gotten older though and a thin stubble could be seen along his chin. He must've made some breakthrough because the earth shook as he yelled out in exhilaration. Once more the scene changed, and the man was leading a small regiment, he was now in the middle ages of his life, how much older was impossible to tell, but he led the warriors bravely and with cunning and wile.
As such she followed snippets of highlights of this man as he grew stronger and fiercer, and his army grew in size and in loyalty. Everything was strange, their outfits their architecture, Talaitha was feeling very sombre, because these memories were clearly not the ones of the young mage.
It wasn't until there was a memory of a mage of terrifying abilities leading a group of other mages, that she realised that this was the first time that she had seen a mage at all in this sequence of memories. Ever since that memory, several followed of mages wielding strange and arcane abilities, one thing was clear the man whose memories these were was fighting against the mages, and no mage was seen at any point as an ally. She felt the man's emotions in the final memory that appeared, as he stepped past his fallen comrades and fought against an entire army on his lonesome, falling finally as he succumbed to his injuries. Upon death the man had been truly hateful towards the mages, this feeling passed into her own soul as she struggled against the intense feeling of hate and bloodlust.
. . . .
Lonkar looked at the cross-legged Talaitha, holding her two hands on Barandir, now for the fifth day. She had not made a motion since, but now she grimaced; she even released a heavy bloodlust whilst tears flowed from her reddening face. Lonkar wanted to interfere but knowing that she was in his nephew's Soul-scape he knew that this was not the time.
. . . .
She had just witnessed what could only have been decades of war and strife, and now she was in familiar surroundings, this was clearly Taoru'un, the trees the fields the familiar architecture of the mansion on a large hill bordering against a forest. She saw a young boy running with eagerness towards the man she now knew as Lonkar, the young boy looked very familiar to the man whom she was healing now.
"It's a girl!" he yelled out in Taoru'un full of eagerness and excitement.
Finally, a language she understood, but she was only feeling more confused, the previous memories suggested that a powerful soul had possessed the young man, masquerading somehow in the Soul-scape, but if that was the case the young man's memories should be gone too.
Many snippets of memories followed, but none lasted long, and before she knew it the man was pushed off a zeppelin, plummeting to his death in The Great Forest of Southern Magnolia, she had inferred the last bit from what she had heard from Lonkar. She also now realised why they were so careful, this was the Crowborne clan, the young man the eldest son of the branch family in charge of amongst other territories The Darkwood territory, which explained the Lonkar's quiet sneers at their troop, not that she had much more respect for the Crowborne clan either. This was neither here nor there, the issue was that she had no idea as to how to go about this.
Currently she was in the Soul-scape observing the man, somehow the young man's soul had merged with that of the Warrior, but she couldn't even begin to fathom how this might have happened. She chose to ignore this part for now, what mattered was who was in charge? From the inner image of the soul it was conflicting, this could simply be the influence of the warrior's soul, or was it the influence of the young noble's soul? This was up to Lonkar to figure out.
Having put aside the matter of possession, things weren't too bad. The soul was intact, but the warrior's intense resentment and hatred towards mages was what appeared to be causing the fluctuations in the physical body of the man, in a sense this was dangerous, it also explained the several instances of bloodlust or cold stares, especially so when she recounted what had happened on the night of their arrival. How to fix it however was troublesome. Then it came to her, it was possession, but it also wasn't, the solution perhaps not that complicated!
. . . .
On the sixth day Talaitha finally opened her eyes, her mouth was parched, but as any mage of her enlightenment, her body's constitution was stronger and less reliable on physical nutrition. She looked at the concerned parties, a complicated look in her eye, the news she had to break to Lonkar were not easy, would the noble simply kill the nephew? She took a deep breath and asked to speak with Lonkar alone. Since it was close to evening, they stopped to make camp.
. . . .
He puffed gently on his pipe as Talaitha relayed what had happened to her, and what she had seen, an imperceptible flinch passed through his eye as he heard that the nephew might not be who he claimed to be. However as Talaitha continued, it became clear that the nephew's soul was intact, in this matter Lonkar seemed to be more knowledgeable than Talaitha, for the soul to have merged, this was not unheard of, although usually this was done under other circumstances, and how exactly this mysterious warrior's soul had come into contact with nephew remained a mystery. He stared unfocused as Talaitha left him to his own thoughts. The sound of a night owl hooted by as he sat on a small rock, in the light of the moon, he looked towards the bonfire where his travel companions were conversing, and where Barandir lay quietly in front of the fire.
Either Barandir was in control, but his memories were jumbled, or the warrior was in control, but Barandir's soul had accepted him. For now, he could only go along with Talaitha's plan, whatever the circumstances he would not let his nephew die.
"Talaitha" Lonkar spoke solemnly interrupting the conversation around the campfire "Thank you, and thank you for being honest with me, let's us perform the exorcism ritual".
. . . .
Lonkar drew up a complicated spell diagram, and several runes on the ground using his mana as paint. Everyone around him were astounded, the middle aged man was clearly a mage of ability but this level of rune and diagram skill was unheard of. The runes and spell diagram glowed in an intense deep purple, he had followed Talaitha's instruction, but also used his own knowledge to enhance the ritual.
Talaitha began chanting in Taoru'un. Aside from her and Lonkar everyone else were seated several meters away watching the spectacle in awe.
"Release the body!" she yelled out.
"Release the mind!" she yelled out.
"Release the heart!" she yelled out.
"Release the soul!" she yelled out.
"Release his life!" she yelled out.
She continued chanting whilst walking slowly around the diagram, throwing pieces of ashen burnt birch on Barandir, cleansing him with every piece. On the seventh circulation she stopped, she looked up at the full moon, her body slightly levitating as it got covered in a silvery flame.
"I borrow the flame of the moon, banish the spirits in this man!"
She clapped her hands together, and the silvery flame ran into her hands, intensifying as it left her body. She then proceeded to face her palms towards Barandir. The fire washing over him in a brilliant bath of soft silver flames.
. . . .
Slight bumping and a low murmur were what awoke Barandir. He slowly opened his eyes as the light vaguely blinded him, everything gradually becoming clearer the outlines of familiar faces met him, and one not so familiar. Everyone was staring at him as he finally came to. A burden felt removed from him as he slowly lifted himself up on his elbows.
The hatred, that was it, the hatred was gone, somehow it just wasn't there, the irrational hatred and bloodlust towards mages that he had been suppressing was cleared away. This didn't mean that he loved mages, but it he didn't feel hatred and the will to kill for no reason. It was refreshing, he could think clearer, concentrate better. He smiled genuinely and truly comfortably as he began questioning Lonkar about what had happened.
. . . .
It wasn't until night-time that Barandir was alone with Lonkar, they were sitting inside the wagon whilst the rest were outside eating.
"...So tell me, are you my nephew?" Lonkar asked earnestly, sadness in his eye, for he already had his suspicions.
Barandir flinched, but after the uncle had told him about what had happened and how they had used the exorcism to exorcise his soul's previous resentment he knew that he couldn't lie to the uncle, he didn't want to, the man did deserve the truth "I am not..." he answered honestly, looking at the man sincerely, straight in the eye "I have had visions of your nephew's memories, and I could feel that had I not merged with his soul, it would have probably dissipated" This is not an excuse for the deception that I have brought you, but when I adopted your nephew's identity, I decided to give my well-wishes to his family, afterwards I was planning to quietly disappear".
Lonkar looked straight at Barandir, so much like his nephew, a single tear slithered down from his eye "I believe you" He answered quietly, he put his right hand on Barandir's shoulder "Listen, as far as I understand from Talaitha, my nephew gave his permission, that is good enough for me, don't leave after your sister's..." Lonkar shook his head with a chuckle "birthday, your siblings and parents will want to know that you are save, after that you and I can discuss what to do, alright?" he said with a friendly smile.
Barandir couldn't help but smile back, his blind hatred for mages gone, he clearly found Lonkar a kindred soul, there was a sadness there that although dissimilar to his own, still familiar, and since he couldn't ever become a warrior, it was definitely worth it to take his time to figure out what to do "Don't worry Lonkar" He put his left arm on the uncle's shoulder "I'll put their minds at ease, I made a promise to the real Barandir so I won't hurt his family".
The two came walking back to the bonfire in good spirits, everyone else only knew half the story, they didn't know the details of Barandir's soul. Talaitha was genuinely surprised, the two seemed closer than when she had seen them at the mansion.
Barandir walked straight over to Talaitha, and grabbed her hands "Thank you!" he spoke with honesty, much to her surprise, the genuine smile and friendly attitude took her off guard.
She straightened her glasses clumsily "Of course, of course, don't worry about it" she spoke with a smile, wondering if he was the warrior or the mage. Perhaps she'd never know.
It didn't take long before everyone was celebrating Barandir's recovery; alcohol and food overflowed as everyone got more festive. When the moon was high in the sky, Grantalo began telling stories of the gypsies of old and the giant wolf badgers from the Darkwood Territory.
When all were asleep Barandir lay awake looking up at the sky, his heart pumping heavily and heartily. His old compatriots might not even recognize him anymore, he thought to himself with half a smile. It wasn't just that his soul had merged with one, in many ways different than his own, but also the fact that the original Barandir had been much younger, even though he knew he was a middle aged man, he felt like a young man, especially now that the shadow of his past had been cleared away. He would have to ask Lonkar about the past, and mages, was it truly his old world far in the future? Or was he somewhere entirely different? He closed his eyes and drifted asleep, the first comfortable sleep in a long while.
. . . .
The following days drifted by without much note, the weather chilled as they got higher up north, and the leafless trees stood among the mighty pines naked but majestic still. The gypsy troop had decided to travel with them, Talaitha had insisted, especially now that she knew that not only were they going in the same direction, Lonkar had also insisted on rewarding her upon returning to the Crowborne territory.
It was on one such day that they came across a pregnant woman and her husband traversing the country road on foot. Fremont slowed down the wagon and yelled for Lonkar.
Lonkar exited holding the small baby who was curiously watching the spectacle, a tiny shiver went through its body as it felt the chill from the outside, and nudged itself deeper into the sheepskin that it was being held in.
"Where are you going? Good folk?" asked Lonkar politely in Taoru'un.
The two seemed relieved that there was a fellow Taoru'unian aboard the wagon, since the coach was clearly a foreigner.
"We are travelling for the village of Mirtal northwest of here" the husband answered, he looked at his pregnant wife with worry "Unfortunately we didn't have a choice, I'm ashamed to say that I lost my previous employ, and as such we were forced to leave for my hometown, hopefully I'll be able to find work there, but good sir I..." he hesitated as he held his wife in his arm.
"No need to ask, no need to ask" replied Lonkar, come along, we have the space here.
"Thank you, thank you so much!" the wife replied graciously as she was being helped aboard by Fremont.
Meanwhile in the gypsy caravan behind them, Grantalo was smiling happily, this was the plan after all, and by nightfall he'd have gotten away with it, all that was left was to leave before the client who was after the ledger came looking for it.
. . . .
During the same day, as evening approached, and the short day darkened, an old woman was seen blocking the path, she was sobbing whilst holding onto a large six-legged sheep-donkey, it lay dead on the road, her small cart behind her stocked with all sorts of packages. Once again Fremont stopped the cart and called for Lonkar and before they knew it, she was hitching a ride too, she was passing through Mirtal going up even further north to celebrate the Darkwood Autumn Festival, her husband had passed away and she had always wanted to move to the Darkwood territory, and as she didn't have any children or living relatives, she had taken it upon herself to travel with her belongings fearless as she was.
Grantalo couldn't help but sweat angrily as he sat by the warm bonfire, who the hell was this old lady? She was thin and tall, her hair grey and tied up, she wore linen pants and leather boots, a thick fur coat covered her body, and her eyes were a sharp blue. She appeared ordinary and extraordinary all at once, but there was nothing to imply that she would get in their way. He swallowed the bread he was chewing on and began another story. It was time to begin the assassination.
While he was telling the story eagerly, the pregnant woman approached Lonkar, and began asking him about the baby that they were carrying and whilst everyone was distracted her hand slowly moved towards his cup.
"COMING THROUGH!" yelled the old lady as she fell into the pregnant woman, knocking over the poisoned beverage in the process "Darn legs aren't what they used to be" she cursed angrily. Grantalo's eyes widened, but he continued onwards after the commotion. He watched as the old lady went to sit by Barandir's side, he didn't know what they were talking about, but it interrupted the 'husband' from approaching him. Somehow during the entire evening, the couple were interrupted by the old lady's shenanigans.
The following day they passed through Mirtal, and the couple had to say their goodbyes, much to the chagrin of Grantalo.