Book 8: Chapter 15: Take care
When morning came, so did the time for parting. Atreus gave the two Asterians some space to bid each other farewell.
“How long has it been since we last separate for more than a day or two?” Eleanor asked. “Years and years.”
“I know. It will be strange.” Martel could already feel the knot in his stomach taking shape. “Not waking up next to you. Not being able to rely on you no matter the situation.”
“It feels wrong. I am your protector,” she said with a sad smile. “I should be by your side.”
“You will be again, sooner than you think. Mages like us, we’ll figure this magic out in no time.”
She blinked in a vain attempt to keep tears away. “Just the thought is giving me reason to reconsider. What if something happens and I am not there to safeguard you?”
“I could say the same. What will you do without a battlemage next to you?” he replied with feigned bluster before his tone became serious. “We are both powerful and experienced wizards. We’ll be fine,” he declared, hoping that by speaking it aloud, he made it into a self-fulfilling prophecy.
She smiled through her tears. “Promise me that if it gets dangerous, you’ll turn back. Nothing matters more than seeing you again.”
“I promise. As must you.”
“I promise.” They kissed and held each other until nothing further could be expressed, whether in words or gestures.
Finally, Atreus returned. “I’ll send you on your way first,” he said to Martel, “as your path goes west. You and I can traverse the city together afterwards,” he added to Eleanor, “as your road goes east and north, so it’ll be simplest for you to pass through Archen.”
“Very well.” With a deep breath, a firm grip on his staff, and a final farewell exchanged with Eleanor, Martel followed the spellbreaker down the overgrown road that led west towards Aster.
As they walked, Atreus explained. “Your destination is the mountain peaks far in northern lands. The Tyrians call them the Pillars of the World, I believe.”
“I’ve seen them, from a distance.”
“I’ve never been that far myself. Regardless, you must make your way there before summer solstice.”
That gave Martel some months. It would require haste, but he should be able to do it. “How come?”
“I don’t know,” Atreus admitted. “But the carvings I read seemed clear on that. You must reach the peak and meditate on magic by the time the solstice arrives. You must do this as long as night is day until day is night.”
“What does that mean?”
The spellbreaker gave a wry smile. “I have no idea. I assume it will make sense once you’re there.”
“Pretty big assumption. Where is this supposed to lead? What am I meant to learn?”
“Magic itself. Its nature. Move on from your limited understanding that only lets you deal with magic of the physical or elemental kind. Look inward and let it expand outward.” Atreus sent him a wink. “That’s what my instructor said anyway. It didn’t really apply thanks to the methods we used, but maybe it will for you.”
“I wish we had something a little more solid than ‘maybe’.”
Atreus stopped and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. “I wrote down everything I know. All the instructions I just gave you, in case you forget.”
Martel grabbed it and unfolded it, running his eyes over the text. Thankfully, it was written in Asterian, not Archean. “You didn’t write this just now. You had this with you all along.”
Another wry expression. “I had a feeling you would agree.”
“What of Eleanor?” Knowing he had taken his final look on her face for months already made Martel feel uncomfortable.
“Her path takes her into the mountains close by. She will have a shorter journey than you.”
“I’m more concerned with what she will face. This journey seems simple enough for me.” It made sense that pursuing the path of Glund, the sage, would involve meditation. “But her challenge is Malac, the warrior. Will there be danger?”
“There’s always danger where magic is involved.” All trace of mirth had left Atreus. “But I can’t think of a stronger mageknight. If the wizards of the past could accomplish this, so can she.”
“I’d ask you to follow her, but I imagine you’d refuse.”
Atreus gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m not sure I could where she’s going. Besides, my own task may take the most work. To cleanse Archen of the malice that hangs over it will take months if not longer.”
“I suppose I’ll see you, then. If not in Morcaster, then here.” Martel looked at the spellbreaker, aware of the great difference between them. They had nothing in common in terms of origin or abilities, and only spent a short while in each other’s company. Yet those shared experiences included several of the hardest fought battles of Martel’s life, facing dangers that few could imagine. And now they had begun an undertaking together that towered in ambition and consequence. They were to build a society, with laws and life to be determined from the ground up. Create a school to teach the most advanced wizardry on the continent. And found a city that would immediately face enemies, perhaps especially from those claiming to be friends.
Martel grasped Atreus by the shoulder and inclined his head, which the Archean reciprocated. “Take care, Martel. Not because I doubt your ability to handle danger or that I worry you might not complete this task. On the contrary. Take care, Martel, for I think you will succeed, and it’ll change you forever.”
A warning that was well-meant, but which Martel did not know what to do with. “We’ll have to see. Until we meet again.” He bowed his head again and turned around, walking away with the ruins of Archen to his back. Ahead of him awaited a long journey as far north as men might wander.