Quests Volume Two

  Quests Volume Two

  The Paths of Fire and Earth

  by Barbara G. Tarn

  ***

  Barbara G.Tarn copyright © 2017

  Cover Art by Shafali Anand

  electronic edition by Unicorn Productions

  April 2017

  ***

  Table of Contents

  The Path of Fire

  The Path of Earth

  About

  ***

  The Path of Fire

  CHAPTER ONE

  Raykim was bored. The clouds had nothing interesting to say. The gray sky seemed to loom over land and sea, but he wasn't worried. Perched atop the mountains, he looked down at the ocean and the little towns of the Humans, so close and yet so far.

  Sometimes he wished he could fly there and actually mingle with them. Watching from afar wasn't fun! Raykim was bored and lonely. But he still remembered what had happened the first time he had tried to set foot in a Human town.

  People had screamed, and if at first they'd run away, soon they'd gathered weapons and had marched on him, determined to kill him. It had been much worse than being chased from the Nest, that was for sure! At least the Sila didn't have pointed sticks that ripped his skin apart.

  Thank the Immortals none of the blades had touched his bat-like wings, or he'd be crippled and locked in one of their cages by now. He was still free to roam the skies – alone. Not Sila, not Fajrulo, and certainly not Human.

  Nobody wanted him. Nobody loved him. Nobody wanted to be near him! What had he done to be so feared, hated, rejected? Would he ever find someone to be with?

  He missed his mother's warm body, her feathered wings, her soothing tone. She had raised him for as long as she could, but then the rest of the Home Nest had wanted him out, and she had kissed him good-bye.

  "You're old enough to survive on your own, Raykim," she'd told him. "You will have a very long life, and I'd rather you didn't see me grow old and die. You are my last offspring and you will outlive me by centuries."

  Raykim didn't think he was old enough. He wanted back into the Nest, but there was no way they'd let him. Even hiding in a corner wasn't enough – they didn't want him because he had bat-like wings and blue hair and yellow eyes and pointed ears and he was so un-Sila that none of them could accept him for who he was.

  A wretched half-blood. Unwanted by Sila and Humans. And he wasn't sure where he could find the others – the Waiora or the Genn. Who knew where his father was, but then, his mother had told him Fajrulo had no feelings anyway.

  He couldn't shift form to hide his strange looks, so he could only watch the lives of others from afar. Humans were more interesting than Sila, and since there were at least six towns and several smaller castles he could observe from the top of the mountains, he spent his time keeping an eye on Earth's children.

  Currently he was looking at a coastal town that had a gladiator ring. It was a day of fights, and he usually enjoyed watching Humans fight against each other. But the day was cloudy and the ring was still half-empty, as if even the fighters weren't sure they could have a go before rain ruined everything.

  Raykim snorted. The towel he used as a loincloth scratched his skin. He pushed away some clouds so the gladiators could start. It must be still early, though, and they might decide to postpone the championship because of the muddy terrain.

  Raykim manipulated the wind from the sea to dry up the ring a little. Now he was hungry, though, so he went looking for some form of breakfast. Unlike the Sila, he didn't eat Clouds Nectar and preferred meat – a Fajrulo trait that horrified his mother's people.

  He opened his wings and went hunting, finding only a hare. It would do for now. He went back to his perch – a rock protruding towards the town – and ate the animal raw, without skinning it. He might have no fangs, but he didn't care about Human subtleties, although he had to admit the cooked food smelled delicious.

  Sometimes he tried to cook things, since he manipulated fire as easily as he manipulated air, but there was obviously something missing in his recipes. He often burned the meat and it became inedible.

  There, the gladiators were gathering at last. Raykim threw away the rest of his breakfast and settled to watch the show. His powerful sight, better than that of an eagle, meant he could see the fights as if he were sitting in the stands.

  The men lined up and started fighting. There were even two women, muscled and bulky. Raykim cheered for his favorite, a big Human warrior who had already won many of the fights. He was almost certain he'd win again.

  Sometimes he wished his hearing was as good as his eyes, so he could know the man's name. But even if they chanted it after the games, he was too far up to hear it.

  Let's spice up the fight! he thought with a chuckle.

  He called back the clouds and covered the ring with them. He squeezed water out of them, and the downpour flooded the arena.

  And then something weird happened. One of the fighters, who had lost his armor and helmet, suddenly rose and attacked the few men standing.

  Raykim's eyes widened in wonder at the sight. He had never seen that young man before, but soon he was the only one who hadn't slipped or fallen to the muddy ground.

  The new champion raised his arms to the sky and seemed to enjoy the rain so much, Raykim couldn't believe his eyes. Who was he, what had just happened? Who was that man who had robbed his champion of victory?

  Talk about spicing up things! Raykim started giggling.

  He focused on the champion's face and saw unusual turquoise eyes. A stranger had won the championship.

  Raykim was very curious to learn more about the new champion, so he kept watching the town. He even flew over it to be able to follow the young man wherever he went.

  The morning after, he saw the Champion sell his repaired armor, buy a wagon and a draft horse with two friends and leave the town on horseback. More and more curious, Raykim decided to follow them.

  ***

  Keneith had been traveling with Hinrik for only three months and already he was growing fond of the young man. When they'd found him near Moriana, naked and bruised, Keneith hadn't been too happy. The half-Waiora was too much of a wimp for his tastes.

  Hinrik had the warrior's muscles and training, but he spent too much time bemoaning his fate. He hadn't been completely aware of his mixed blood until he'd met them, although his turquoise eyes gave his heritage away, but as the only child of an unmarried woman he had never fit in his hometown.

  But now Hinrik was proving to be a very good fighter – and had earned him a purse of gold coins, which fed his Fajrulo greed. Not that he was as greedy as a full-blooded Fajrulo would be, he was half-Human after all, but he sure hoped Hinrik would win more mock battles so he could keep betting on him.

  They had given up their riding horses for the wagon and draft horse because Bellinda was sick of the saddle. Keneith was happy to move to the front of the wagon with her, since he had to admit that the saddle was quite uncomfortable – especially for him. So he was glad that a woman had raised the issue and wondered how Hinrik could stick to his gelding, but whatever.

  It's his family jewels that get crushed by the saddle. And he hasn't been using them much since we met him – except for last night, of course.

  After his victory, apparently Hinrik had entertained the whole brothel of Flean by himself. Not bad for someone who had been raped three months earlier. Obviously Bellinda's healing skills were getting better with time.

  Of course they were getting better. All of them. With age they became more powerful, especially if someone told them how to deal with their mixed blood. He hadn't learned much until the Genn had finally explained some things to him – years wasted trying to fit into Human schools of magic whe
re nobody knew how to deal with him and his innate powers...

  And now here he was, with two other half-bloods, exploring the north. A warrior, a healer and a magic user. Not that he'd used his magic much, except when bandits had tried to rob them or when juggling with balls of fire in Flean.

  "My, aren't we quiet, oh champion!" Bellinda said, breaking the thoughtful silence. "Still thinking about your victory? Or still tired from the night that followed?"

  The half-Genn healer had dark-blond hair and sky-blue eyes. She hadn't inherited the pointed ears of her Genn father, but had a Genn-framed body with small breasts. If she cut her hair, she could pass off as a boy. She had worn breeches to ride, but now she was back to her gowns.

  "I've been thinking," Hinrik answered. "I think I found my calling. I mean, I felt so alive under the rain... it was invigorating!"

  I bet it was. Your element gives you strength. It's like trying to burn me alive, I'd destroy you in a heartbeat.

  "And then you sold your armor, which means you won't do it again," she said with a chuckle.

  "No, I don't want to fight anymore, whether in war or in an arena. I've been thinking about manipulating water instead. You know, like Keneith's tricks with fire."

  Yes, call them tricks, since you're not scared of me – not anymore. Maybe I should scare you into respecting me again.

  Bellinda raised her eyebrows, skeptical. "So you want to be an entertainer instead of a warrior?"

  "Why not? If it pays for food and shelter..."

  "I'm not sure I want to play the jester," Keneith said. "But I'll be glad to keep betting on your victories."

  He shook his still jingling purse with a grin. He liked the fact that Hinrik was a warrior and that in spite of defeat he had bounced back. Hinrik had won the armor in Baes, but then he'd sold it in Flean – not a good sign.

  Hinrik rolled his eyes. "No, I don't want to fight anymore," he grumbled. "I joined the Salamar army because I thought I had no other option. But it wasn't my true calling. Now, you don't have to do what I do, I just thought I'd try something different to make a living."

  "We'll think about it," Bellinda promised. "I'm not too keen on shows myself, but if I can find a deck of divination cards that I like, I can try to read people's future. Probably by reading their body's health, I can predict how long they have to live."

  "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Bellinda the fortune teller," Keneith proclaimed.

  Bellinda rolled her eyes and Hinrik smiled.

  "It was just an idea," he said. "We can think about it, of course."

  Keneith scoffed and shook his head, but Bellinda nodded, thoughtful. Of course she'd back him up. She had a soft spot for Hinrik, and not because she had healed him. He was handsome, young and sweet in a charming way. If he let his guard down a little, women would line up to get him.

  Keneith wondered if she had realized yet she was falling in love with the youngest member of their small group. Not that he cared, just wondered.

  That night they camped in the wild. Not having to set up a tent was a welcome novelty, but they still had two horses to take care of. Inside the wagon there was barely room to lie down side by side. Actually Bellinda lay on a long chest that could also be used as a bench and contained all their things.

  Keneith didn't like cramped bedding, but he wasn't going to complain. He slept a lot less than the "dormice" he traveled with, and wouldn't lie in the wagon much. He'd rather sleep under the stars, like he'd done when he'd left home.

  "I kind of like this house on wheels," Bellinda said as they sat around the fire.

  The sun had set and Keneith's fire was the only thing that gave them light and warmth. They had found a small clearing and the bulk of the wagon protected them from the gale that came from the sea.

  "If it rains tonight, Hinrik can sleep outside," Keneith said.

  Hinrik smiled but shook his head.

  "We have dried meat and dried vegetables," Bellinda said, rummaging in their supply pack. "And some herbs to season everything."

  "Can you teach me how to cook these? I'll happily share!"

  The voice startled all three.

  Keneith stared at the being that stepped forward, holding two dead hares by their ears. A frail teenage body with bat-like wings, the newcomer had brown skin, pointed ears and showed no fangs in his propitiatory smile. He wore a loincloth and was barefooted.

  Hinrik's hand went to the hilt of his sword, but this time he waited for Keneith to make the first move. Bellinda was still and stared at the newcomer with a confused look on her face.

  Another half-blood, who, in spite of his obvious youth, had felt kinship with them and had dared to show up with a peace offering.

  That face and the dancing shadows over it reminded Keneith of his younger self, although he never had wings. And the strange half-blood spoke the Old Tongue, as if he weren't used to dealing with Humans.

  Keneith mentally thanked the Genn for teaching him the Magical Races' language even though he wasn't one of them.

  "How long have you been watching us?" he asked bluntly. He had a very bad feeling. Not of something threatening, more of something that would disturb his peace of mind.

  "Since yesterday." The other grinned. "Someone made quite a show under the rain." He glanced at Hinrik. "That was something new! Usually when I bring on the rain, I spoil all the fun!"

  "You made the rain fall?" Bellinda asked.

  "My Sila blood allows me to control clouds, yes." The other let down his arms. "So, do you want my contribution or not? Can you help me to cook these?"

  Bellinda signaled him to pass on the hares and Hinrik relaxed. Keneith gestured the newcomer to sit down with them.

  "And you are?" he asked, taking one of the hares from Bellinda's hands. The healer was the worst cook in the world.

  "My name is Raykim. I'm half-blood, like you. Unfortunately I didn't inherit the shape-shifting power of my Fajrulo father, so I'm stuck with this form. Which means the Sila fear me for my featherless wings, Humans think I'm a demon and Fajrulo of course don't care. So I wander those mountains and having the keen Sila sight, I watch the Humans and their lives from up above..."

  "And your Fajrulo father is...?" Keneith thought he knew the answer by now. The boy looked too familiar.

  "Runedemon. He mated with a Sila."

  Damn Fajrulo charmers! If only he were as good as his Fajrulo mother in that department!

  "So we're cousins," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm Keneith, son of Bluestar and a Human."

  "Pleased to meet you!" Raykim grinned. "And the others are...?"

  "Bellinda, daughter of Joyrise the Genn and Alina of Havenstock, and Hinrik, son of Woram the Waiora and Kaline of Salamar."

  "We have all the immortals with us," Raykim said, beaming. "Air, Fire, Water, Ether and Earth!"

  "Except you can't really live among Humans," Bellinda said while Keneith and Hinrik skinned the hares before putting them on the fire.

  Raykim's smile vanished and his shoulders slumped. "I know! But you are not chasing me away, are you?"

  "We'll see about that," Keneith snapped, uneasy.

  He didn't have the patience to deal with another young half-blood abandoned by his parents. He'd been through it, but at more than half a century of age he didn't want to deal with teen angst anymore.

  Although Raykim looked cheerful more than angry, or depressed like Hinrik had been. Which made him realize that Hinrik hadn't understood a word, but Bellinda was filling him in.

  Raykim noticed he didn't understand Hinrik's words and he touched Hinrik's cheek. For some sort of mind-reading power, through touch, he understood when Hinrik suggested he traveled with them, his stupid idea of some sort of itinerant circus. As if they weren't freaks enough already!

  "I'm not a jester!" Keneith repeated, snorting.

  "Of course you are. With your Fajrulo humor," Bellinda teased.

  Keneith glared at her. "Not funny, Bel."

  "What exactly did you hav
e in mind?" Raykim asked, hopeful.

  "Well, we have a wagon, so you could hide in there during the day. And then at night you come out and take part in the show. We can come up with something. We'll say it's props, it's your costume, and nobody will fear you. We could do a short play with four characters and..."

  "Now we're becoming actors?" Keneith shook his head, incredulous. "Hinrik, are you out of your mind? What happened to the shy and grumpy half-blood that left Salamar with us?"

  "He is gone," Hinrik answered proudly. "It was just an idea, like I said, you can always come up with something better!"

  "It's good to hear you having some initiative," Bellinda said, amused. "We can work it out, I guess."

  "You mean I could travel with you?" Raykim's joy and hope were so obvious to all, that Keneith groaned internally. If they decided to vote, he'd be outnumbered. His young cousin would have to stay.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Raykim was delighted to have found his cousin. When he had flown closer to them, he had felt they weren't normal Humans. As night had fallen, he'd gone hunting and thought to get to know them.

  The only one with a pointed stick was the Champion and he could feel Fire in the one who had turned out to be related to him. And the other two were members of the other Magical Races. Well, half-bloods, but still... At least they let him stay with them!

  The hares were delicious cooked. His elder cousin seemed pissed off to have him, but the others were nice. Especially the new champion, who was half-Waiora but didn't speak the Old Tongue.

  Raykim really wanted to communicate with Hinrik. He seemed the nicest of the group, and the youngest. Well, now he was the youngest, so he had, like, three elder siblings now! It was so exciting! And by touching Hinrik's skin – not necessarily the cheek – he managed to learn and absorb the Humans' language in just a few days.

  They reached the town of Aludin and he had to wait in the wagon while the others went out to explore. Of course hanging out with Humans in plain daylight was out of the question. He brooded for a moment, then started rummaging in the other half-bloods' things, just to keep himself busy.

  Raykim ate on his own as soon as the sun went down – but this time he managed not to burn the meat – and then eagerly waited for the others to come back with news about the schools of magic.