It was a sunny day, with just a few wisps of clouds that posed no threat of rain to spoil my walk. Winter had let go its grasp a few weeks back and the land now teemed with life, vibrant colors popping everywhere as wildflowers dotted the sides of the road and blossoms exploded on the tree branches, with their leaves just starting to emerge. I could feel the mana around me as I walked. It felt eager, almost as if it were waiting—even wanting—to be used for some noble purpose.
As I walked, I thought about how long it would take before I would reach the farthest I had traveled from my home, well, east anyway. Most of my travels outside the capital were to the west or the south. The only time I had ever been east was when I was much younger, maybe six or seven. The first town to the east was called Dorbish, but I had never ventured that far. I knew it was a merchant town that acted as a hub for the various trade groups in the region. That was about all I could remember. Reading the details of neighboring towns and cities was a lot less exciting than reading tales of heroic mages and adventurers of old.
One day blended into another. Each day I set up and took down my little campsite (just a small lean-to and a cooking fire), spotted edible plants and roots to supplement my food supplies, and Soothed the occasional wandering wolf pack or startled bear.
I felt a sense of urgency and so I walked swiftly, sure that each step was one step closer to my mother. Even so, I could not shake my father's training and I spent half an hour each morning attuning myself to the mana around me. As anxious as I was it was almost a welcome relief to focus my energies on something unrelated to my mission to find my mother.
When it rained, I used Object Manipulation to keep a large piece of bark floating above my head to keep me dry from a light spring rain. Not the most elegant way to do that. I'm sure my father had some sort of amazing spell to keep a fast current of dry air around his body to ensure that he stayed dry, but as much as he taught me, I was still nowhere near the mage he was. I was just as likely to make myself wetter if I tried to get too fancy.
As I made my way without too much trouble, I realized my father might be right—of course—about me being better prepared than I gave myself credit for. I had his forced tutorship over the years to thank.
I had protested and whined at the prospect of learning much of what he taught me, including the skills needed to survive alone on the road. "When am I ever going to use this?" was my usual complaint, to which he would respond with an infuriating twinkle of his eye and a shrug, "You never know."
It had always seemed a little odd to me that my father would take so much time out of his busy schedule to personally instruct me on so many things. It was as if he was making sure I was prepared for the journey I was now taking.
In the quiet of the forest my mind churned with endless questions. How long had he planned this? What exactly was this? Why wasn't he going himself or at least coming with me? What was the spell he had cast on me right before I left? And then there was the question that burned in my mind almost as much as the one concerning the location of my mother — why hadn't he at least told me more? Or, perhaps more accurately, why couldn't he?
I arrived at Dorbish lost in thought and unsure of my next steps. It had been six days of traveling. My head was a jumble of thoughts, and for all my thinking, I had concluded nothing. I was missing too many pieces. I was hopeful that I get at least get a few of them in Dorbish.
It was dusk as I approached the city limits from a nearby hillside. Dorbish was not the biggest of cities I had read about in my studies, but even from a distance and with the fading daylight I could see it was gargantuan compared to the tiny hamlets and farms I had passed on my way here. It was by far the biggest collection of people I had ever seen in one place. My vantage revealed a dense network of mostly single-story buildings surrounded by an imposing city wall.
The city gates stood wide open, with not a guard in sight. Surely a good sign. I could hear laughter and the clinking of glasses from what sounded like a tavern that was just inside the city limits. My pace quickened at the thought of a warm bed and perhaps something other than road rations, rabbit meat, and roots to fill my belly. I stepped past the threshold of the gates and made a direct line to the light and smells pouring from a modest looking tavern on which a faded sign hung that simply had a picture of a bed and a mug on it. Hopefully, they used up all their creative juices on the culinary delights served within.
I walked into a room that was bustling — always a good sign. Either way, both my feet and stomach told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to pass up this chance to get some needs met. I walked past some happy looking soldiers with rosy cheeks who were chatting near the entrance with large mugs of some strong-smelling liquor I couldn't place. I wasn't exactly an expert on fermented beverages. My father had never let me drink. "Wine dulls the mind, Warren—a mage with a dull mind is a useless thing indeed." While their armor wasn't exactly free from wear and tear, the dull rust and occasional missing piece on a few of them told me that it had been some time since they had needed to worry about crossing swords with anyone.
I sat down at a small table in the middle of the room, the only one still open. It put me on edge to be surrounded by so many people, but my hunger for a cooked meal won out. While I waited for a server to take my order, I looked around to see if there was anything else of note. It seemed like mostly locals, for they looked relatively clean and similarly dressed, in muted colors and simple cuts that said these were not nobles, but they were not the bottom tier of the worker class. I guessed it was shopkeepers who had closed up for the day, and staff of those more well-to-do, relaxing after a hard day's work. There was also a smattering of folks in dusty travelers' cloaks, though I had no idea where they had come from nor where they were headed.
The room was relaxed, and everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own conversations and laughter. I also began to relax, despite the proximity of so many people I didn't know. Without thinking I found myself Casting my mind through the room to check for any spells or mages. At first, I detected nothing of interest, but as I continued to probe the room a sensation came over me that something was out of place. I gave the room another look, paying closer attention to everyone and everything within sight. Nothing seemed out of sort, but the uncomfortable feeling refused to leave me. I hesitated to do a more thorough Casting surrounded by strangers, but my curiosity won out. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to Cast again into the room.
The chatter and laughter disappeared, as if everyone had simply vanished. While my eyes let in no light, I could now "see" mana swirling around me, chaotic and almost jubilant, as if it was enjoying the warm and lively tavern. The strange sensation I felt upon my first scan of the room increased and now it had a direction — from the back of the tavern, where the mana was behaving in a far more orderly fashion, as if someone was manipulating it. I opened my eyes and I saw someone I hadn't noticed before. It was a short person leaning against the wall. The person wasn't remarkable. In fact, they were so unremarkable that I almost looked right past them even as I put all of my focus on discovering why something felt . . . off. The person was wearing a hooded black cloak that obscured their face, so I could determine neither gender nor age.
I looked around to see if there was a server headed my way to take my order. Stop.
Why was I thinking about my food? I wasn't done thinking about the person leaning against the wall. I looked again and the person was gone. Where did they go? I spun my head around and my eyes darted back and forth. Nothing. I slipped back into Casting and I could now sense . . . there, just a few tables away. I opened my eyes and I could make out a face now—it was a girl, with violet eyes and brown, wavy hair—short or long I couldn't tell under the hood. Her features were delicate, and her skin was caramel. She was standing just a few arms lengths from me. She looked at me like hawk eyeing a mouse, intently but unconcerned. The oddest part was that I was staring right back at her and she made no indication that she either noticed or cared where I was looking.
Someone opened the door to the kitchen and a bevy of smells entered the room. I wondered what the succulent odors meant for my dinner options. I was definitely smelling some roasted turkey. No.
It was a weird feeling to have your brain suddenly switch topics without your permission. I willed myself to stop thinking about my next meal and slowly turned to my right. There she was, right next to me, reaching her hand confidently toward my bag as if it were her own and I was just holding onto it for her.
"What are you doing?" I asked, more surprised than upset at her bold move to relieve me of my goods in the middle of the tavern, not 5 minutes after I had come to town.
She jumped up, her eyes suddenly filled with fear. She now looked like a startled deer, still and poised to flee. I grabbed her arm as she looked to run, and an overwhelming feeling, like the one I had felt when my father touched my head, filled me again. Amber light surrounded the entire body of the girl, no, woman, who stood before me. My awe and terror of this . . . being . . . of her . . . power was so overwhelming that I struggled to stay conscious. The woman took advantage of my sudden disorientation and yanked her hand out of my grasp and just as suddenly as it came upon me the feeling left, and I felt drained. The woman—no—she was just a scared girl, stood before me again.
The fear in her glowing, violet eyes was palpable, but a curiosity also burned in them. Shaken by the image of the awe-inspiring woman bathed in amber, I was confused by her reaction for a moment and then it clicked—of course—this girl was not used to being seen.
While I was unsure of what it meant, I was confident I knew the source of the amber light that had surrounded her. This is my father's work. Of that I had no doubt. I needed to know more about her. "Sit down and I'll get you something to eat or drink. I don't bite. Promise." I gave her my best friendly wink. Oof. I'm so bad at this. Sadly, that hasn't changed.
The girl continued to look at me with a mixture of fear and curiosity and then—she was gone. I shook my head as I fought a powerful urge to simply forget I had ever seen a girl and I leapt to my feet. I was filled with a horrible feeling that if I failed to track this mysterious girl right now, I would never see her again. After a moment's hesitation, I grabbed my pack and ran out the door, more than a tiny bit sad I had not yet had a chance to try the roast turkey that had smelled so delicious. As I exited the tavern, I began frantically thinking of a way to track down a girl that could make herself impossible to see.
I figured the girl I was chasing must live somewhere in Dorbish, close to where all her potential marks were. With only a slight hesitation in my movement, I turned right, a growing sense of urgency rising within me, and made my way opposite the city's entrance and deeper into its heart.