BECMI Chapter 866 – Where the Winds Meet
Eh, the giantess would have known how long Venton was in the area, and my Sims probably would, but they weren’t present out here and I wasn’t going to call attention to them quite yet. The lesser Immortal was a master of winds and considered the skyworld of Meandral His endlessly pleasant playground, traveling around on His cloud through the many layers as He chose.
Given His mortal time as a powerful member of the Followers of Air and more than likely as a follower of Oroyosam, His presence here was quite easy to explain.
He was a big wall blocking Delphax from sending unlimited storms after us, or bugging anyone else on our forced path.
The winds were bringing us to home. Our path led here because there was no way we could NOT come here, we were being ushered to Him.
-----
Because there was no reason not to, the entire armada passed through the surrounding mists and grounded themselves on the cloud island’s edges. The cushiony stuff gave way before the prows without harming them, then flowed together and stopped the ships smoothly, was strong enough to walk on within seconds, and allowed the crews to disembark onto a delightfully picturesque landscape.
There were plenty of fountains and fruit trees about, too, although none of the fruit was harvested unless everyone wanted to piss off an Immortal of the Winds, something no sailor wanted to risk, especially in these skies. Unlike the other islands, the real sky was still visible in its bands of colors here, a reminder that we were not at home, and an Immortal might be right over there. Pissing Him off seemed like a very stupid thing to do…
None of which was going to stop Duum and I from flying up to pay our respects to the fellow, of course.
Not unexpectedly, Venton was up on top of His tower, under the open sky, feeling the winds all about, inspecting the heavens… and occasionally casting an eye down at the thousands of human visitors now roving at the edge of His skyland.
Duum glided in deftly to the edge of His tower, attracting attention with his silky black fur, white stripes, crimson accents… and just maybe his jaunty Hat and gleaming Monocle.
He certainly stood out against the white stone of the massive tower. Venton was a good ten feet taller than the tallest of the Thunderborn Giants had been, and built like a couch potato with access to too many potato chips. He seemed to be balding, but when he moved, whispers of cloudlike strands extended all about his head, as if being blown past his nape by the winds, only to vanish when he went still. He was definitely of the pale skin of the original Delphans, doubtless proud of his heritage, and his robe was a loose and airy style in a pattern popular over three thousand years ago, if you happened to know your fashion back then.
I did, and it basically confirmed who His mortal self had been.
Which meant His Truename was going to turn up in the histories in the Twilight Library. I didn’t have anything to fear from Him, although he didn’t know that.
“The Lady Edge pays respects on behalf of herself and the fleet of Eiscall to the Great Elder!” I called out, aware He could probably hear every conversation on the entire island, let alone me standing up in Duum’s Saddle here. “How may we address you, Elder?” I asked Him politely, giving Him no indication I knew who he was.
My entire time in the Delphan past I’d been in disguise, so no, my quite distinctive appearance wasn’t going to remind him of anyone, although I had indeed met Quand Viadanto the Wind Wielder long, long ago, and I believe Sim Iota had actually had a century-long affair with Him.
Never hurt to have an Immortal have fond memories of your friends, after all.
“I am Ventor, Master of the Aeolites, Harkener of Hurricanes, and Wise Wielder of the Winsome Winds!” he promptly replied with a wide and ready smile, His voice booming and clear, yet somehow gentle and not overwhelming or disturbing the air in the slightest. He’d been a fairly jovial fellow as a mortal, and it seemed to have endured.
“Immortal Ventor,” I repeated, bowing to Him in the saddle, while Duum reached up and, to the Immortal’s delight, doffed his Hat once with a deft use of his dewclaw. “Our apologies for disturbing your day, Elder. Before anything else, I must ask… may we have permission to harness the fruits of your island to fill our supplies? There have been… incidents, grand Curse-level magic that is dogging us, and affecting our food supplies. It seems to enjoy turning some of our food in yyota, which means it must be destroyed or thrown overboard immediately, lest the crew become addicted.”
“Ah, I had registered ill winds clinging to your heels. That is how the ill favor is manifesting, is it?” He swept his gray eyes up and down the cloudy shore far in the distance. “Cut down no trees, but you may harvest as much of the fruit as you care to. My parks are far more fecund than a mortal orchard, and will replace their bounty quickly.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
I Sent that news off to the captains of the various ships, who were quite happy to hear it and not worry about stupid crewmen dying for a fresh apple sneaking off and thinking the Immortal wouldn’t notice if they stole a fruit.
Which He most definitely would, His tone indicating approval that I’d come to ask for permission instead of presuming.
“Noble Ventor’s explorations of the many winds of Meandral is known to take Him far and wide,” I spoke up, and his great eyebrow arched in interest.
“Oh, you have heard of me!” He preened. Naturally He would not think a very non-Delphan people like ourselves would have knowledge of Him.
“The records of the people of Delpha mention you among their patron Immortals, Elder,” I confirmed for Him. “They may have lost much, but they did not forget their elders.”
“I see!” He was gratified, although he had no religious presence on Nown to speak of, except perhaps by some scholars of the esoteric. “Is there something I might be able to do for you, Lady Edge?” He asked only a little aloofly. “You don’t strike me as someone to be swayed by a few peaches and oranges...”
“The armada below is caught in something of a game between the Immortals Tenya, Delphax, and Oroyosam. I am sure you can see the Veiling woven about the whole thing, keeping other Immortals unaware of what is happening to their mortal servants.”
He was a bit startled at my words, glancing at the hundred ships of the armada shrewdly now. “I am a loyal servant of Oroyosam,” He admitted slowly, studying the fleet. “What do you know of my master?”
“His dedication to peace and wise diplomacy is worth of admiration. His pedantic insistence on it in the face of all other means of recourse, especially with those who merely take advantage of His words to take direct action, not so much.”
He rather blinked at that frightfully dry and blunt assessment, and then covered his mouth to hide a silent chuckle. “That… were he not so committed to peace, he would likely take great affront being described that way,” He told me mock seriously.
“It is more likely He’d try to engage me in a long and protracted conversation about how His way is best,” I replied dryly, and the Immortal of Winds slapped his thigh and burst out laughing. “Why He is involved in this mess I do not know, but He is, and our path has led us here. So, as His servant and on His behalf, what are you willing to do that He is not?”
His jovial expression turned more solemn and thoughtful. “Describe to me this entire series of travails,” He ordered me solemnly.
“Of course, Elder,” I acknowledged calmly, and began with the events of Twinlakes Vale, and two idiots serving Delphax messing around with a Deathstone and its Portal to the Sphere of Death…
…. finishing with the mind-raping of the Thunderborn giants, His nearest neighbors, to which the Immortal frowned and glanced off in precisely their direction.
“Delphax remains as great a fool and idiot as he was before he Fell to Entropy,” the Immortal of Winds murmured, shaking His massive head, His eyes narrowing. “I shall check in on the Thunderborn periodically, and make sure this deed is not repeated,” he promised, not to me, but to Himself. “As for your fleet, a minor boon that I think will frustrate both him and this Tenya person.”
He gestured, and the winds swirled around the tower, ruffling my hair and my skirts as I carefully let it overcome Primus’ command of my airspace, not wanting to alarm the Immortal. My Ring huffed silently, but let it happen as magic gathered in something, and a burlap sack large enough to stick me inside materialized in the Immortal’s hands. Its opening swallowed all of the incoming dark winds, then snapped shut as a firm leather cord tied itself around the mouth tightly.
He sent it wafting towards me on a breeze, a confident smile on His face. “These are all the Ill Winds that would disturb your fleet on its course to home. As long as this bag remains unopened, no storm nor stray winds will send your armada astray.” He sat back as I grasped it, content with His contribution to our progress.
“And if it is opened or pierced, all those ill winds will plague us and delay our return home even more,” I nodded, hooking the cords around Dread to keep it out of my way. “I will secure it strongly, have no fears, Elder Venton,” I bowed to Him, privately naming Him a total skinflint. He didn’t want to spend the extra Immortal Power to shield us directly. The Bag of Winds was a convenient material component that minimized His outlay and put the success of the magic on us, absolving Him of any further efforts while saving Him what, 20 IP?
In other words, it was lazy Casting for someone who would have all the power back in an hour in this Air-dominated magical field. If something accidentally pierced the Bag, welp, too bad for us. As a working spell, there was no way to enhance the Bag, and I couldn’t bring it into a dimensional space without rupturing the Bag and releasing the winds back to their home.
I was going to have to put this thing inside a Permanent Resilient Sphere for the duration of our voyages.
Him not shielding us directly also meant He didn’t have to track us and pay attention to us, thereby learning of other things He might do to help us. Nope, this was quick and easy, pick my trees of fruit I’m not going to eat and shoo, little mortals...
Pleased at my politeness, the Immortal Venton nodded magnanimously, doubtless thinking I was impressed by a magic greater than mortals could wield. I wasn’t displaying my Eternal status at all, of course, but Primus was utterly unimpressed and really wanted to hurricane-blast this guy out of the sprawling couch He was sitting upon.
Eh, no need to piss off a somewhat friendly Immortal, and the Thunderborn needed someone making sure that shit didn’t happen again. I could coast, and besides, this fellow had no power on Nown to speak of.
“Is there aught Elder wishes me to know or convey before I go?” I asked Him politely.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering what He could tell me. “The game the Master plays is deeper than you know,” he finally advised me with smothering paternal candor. “Forces are on the move, and you are merely one of the pawns being moved here. Be wary of words and treaties and the like. The world the Delphans left behind is very different from their histories. Immortals contesting with one another for influence can be brutal to mortals caught in the middle.”
Well, no shit, Sherlock. “Understood, Elder. We shall be wary,” I assured Him, and Duum turned to go.