Gathering Clouds

Despite the overwhelming fatigue, Satine managed to stay awake the whole night, undisturbed by local wildlife and other inhabitants of the forest. As soon as the sun rose, she poked the sorcerer to wake him up. To her frustration, he had the gall to stretch and yawn, and even asked how her night had been. She had never wanted to stab anyone so much her entire life.

They marched east through the forest. The thick brush slowed their movement to a crawl. Satine hoped to cross the highway going northward to Arskegg the same day, but didn’t know how far it was. She had a disturbing thought that one or even two days of march would not be enough to reach it. To her surprise, the sorcerer didn’t try to hinder their journey or to run away. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Next night we should set some traps for rabbits or upland birds” – he suggested out of the blue. – “We shouldn’t be wandering hungry.”

As much as she was annoyed at the remark, she couldn’t disagree. She was not only tired and wounded, but also starving. A stark realization that she may be too weak to even walk out of this forest struck her like a lightning. Nonetheless, she was determined to march on.

At the end of the day their progress was mediocre, at best. As the day turned to evening, she let him set up some improvised snares in the area they chose for the next camp. Despite her tiredness, Satine made an important observation: they seem to have made a circle throughout the day, as their surroundings were awfully familiar.

***

While the captivity did disrupt Katnir’s plan to start their search for the tomb closer to the capital, he decided to take his time. If the battlesister could lead him to her headquarters, maybe he would find some useful intel there. Of particular interest to him were books which might contain some shreds of information about Halandir, if any survived.

To fight off the night cold and ward against any predators, they gathered some timber and lit up a bonfire. They sat opposite of one another. Unable to contain her curiosity, Satine pointed at the etching on Katnir’s sword and asked:

“What is this? Some kind of spell?”

The wizard chuckled.

“That’s not a spell. That’s the creed of my clan, written in the old runes.”

“What does it say?”

Katnir cleared his throat and recited:

“Fair as a rose, sharp as a thorn

Is the mind where the Pow’r is born.”

The battlesister gawked at the runes for a few seconds, as if trying to decipher them. Finally, she gave up.

“This is some bullshit. Sorcerers don’t have clans.”

“I told you I’m not from here.”

She huffed at him with frustration and sheathed the sword back. Katnir leaned back on a tree and relaxed.

“Any watches for me tonight?”

“At it again? Forget it.”

“Sweet, another night of undisturbed sleep.”

Her only response was a groan of annoyance.

“I was serious” – he changed his tone. – “We have better odds of survival if we share the responsibilities instead of you pulling all the weight.”

“You’re just talking like that so you can cut my throat while I sleep.”

“Is it really a worse risk than a wolf killing you because you are too tired to lift the sword?”

“I’ll take my chance.”

“We’ll have that talk again tomorrow if you’re awake enough to hear it.”

The battlesister said nothing. Katnir found a comfortable spot for himself and laid down, looking at the stars that had just begun to pop up on the night sky.

“The name’s Katnir, by the way.”

A moment of awkward silence followed, disrupted only by the gentle hum of oaks swaying in the wind and occasional hooting of an owl.

“Satine” – she finally said, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Why didn’t you just kill me, Satine?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“That’s very simple. Didn’t want innocent blood on my hands. I just wanted to pass the bridge and be on my way with my friend.”

“Cutting the bridge is a hell of a way to pass it.”

“And I thought nuns have no sense of humor.”

Satine chuckled quietly, immediately turning her head away so Katnir would not see it. He did nevertheless.

“I could have chosen between that, killing you or letting you kill me” – he continued. – “None of those options seemed appealing, but at least cutting the bridge didn’t involve anyone dying.”

“We could have died from the fall.”

“’Could have’ is doing a lot of heavy lifting here, because otherwise someone would have died.”

“If you really aren’t one of Einhart’s men, what are you even doing in Rainhoven? There are no spellcasters left here apart from his guerillas.”

“That I cannot tell you. But once I have what I came for, you’ll never see me or my friend ever again.”

“A mysterious quest, huh? Go to sleep, sorcerer, I’m losing patience.”

Katnir went silent and rolled to his side. He wondered if tonight he wouldn’t have any dreams as the night before. It seemed as if the catharite shackles not only cut off his access to magic, but also stopped his nightmares. Despite his powerlessness, it was kind of relieving.

***

It was easier for Katria to forget her sorrows when she was cleaning her armor or her sword. She did not love fighting, but that was what was expected of her, so she would always make her best effort to be as good of a help as possible, and that included keeping her equipment in good shape.

The brass sun on her breastplate was already shining like a gem, but she did not stop scrubbing it passionately, for if she stopped, her grief after Satine’s loss would return. On the outside, she retained her cheerful demeanor, but deep inside she had little doubt about her sister’s fate. She called that part of her personality the serious Katria, and she had always done her best to keep her contained. It was easier to live when the real, obedient Katria was in control. The serious Katria would often tell her to do what she really wanted, and not what was expected of her, and that was unacceptable.

Suddenly, she heard a loud voice, muffled by the thick walls of the monastery. At first, she wanted to ignore it. After all, it was none of her business. But then she grew concerned that someone was fighting, and breaking fights among sisters was her duty.

She put the armor aside and walked to the door of her modest cell. The only difference between her room and mother Mina’s was the armor stand and a small rack for her weapons, all thoroughly polished.

When she peeped through the door, she found that the ruckus was coming from mother Mina’s cell on the far side of the corridor. She could now hear it much clearer.

“Why?! Why don’t you pass the command to me?” – screamed a voice that seemed to belong to Taevine. – “Is it not clear that she’s gone? Tomorrow’s search is just for show to ease the others, to let them believe that we did everything we could, I know that!”

“How dare you even speak of that now?” – replied mother Mina’s voice.

“Because you know I’m a better leader than Satine had ever been!”

“You will take the others and search for Satine just as hard as if you were certain she’s alive. Do I make myself clear?”

“Mother, you cannot be this delu-”

“I’m done with you! Begone, you brazen hellion! Out of my sight!”

The door almost fell out of the hinges as Taevine stormed out. It was too late for Katria to hide now. As soon as Taevine saw her, she pointed her finger at her and approached her.

“You! You should be ashamed to eavesdrop on people like this!”

“But… but…” – Katria tried to defend herself. After all, the argument could be heard quite clearly in the corridor.

“I don’t want to hear it. You will mutter no word of what you heard right now. Do you hear me, Katria?”

The poor girl nodded her head obediently.

“Good.”

Taevine walked away, dragging her personal thundercloud with her. Her steps faded away as she descended the staircase, and soon it was quiet again.

Katria turned around and met mother Mina’s gaze. Her eyes were depressed to the verge of tears. She seemed ten years older than she was. Having said nothing, she slowly closed the door.

***

It was already the third day and Reiny still could not find Katnir. He had scoured the entire forest west of the river, and up to the fork far in the north. Now he made it to the east bank, flying over the woods up to a few miles inland. Yet he had found nothing.

Had he not been centuries old, the sight would have been something to behold for him. Acres upon acres of beautiful woods and mountains. Gullies and ravines marked the earth as rocky scars upon the landscape of greens and browns. Sometimes he would find an outlier of bone white limestone and wonder whether it’s a dormant stone giant or just a piece of rock.

He met other birds, his fellow keen-eyed avians, but none spoke of a wizard in a grey cloak or a black-clad battlesister. It was as if the two had vanished into thin air.

Finally, Reiny felt a presence. A strong magical aura emanating from the ground beneath him.

Could it be him? – he thought.

He lowered his flight, looking for the source of the aura, but he couldn’t find it. He perched on a tree branch over a narrow road, and looked around. He didn’t need to wait long. Soon, a rider appeared on the road, and a second one… and a third. All three figures had their faces hidden under hoods and were clearly in a hurry.

No… It’s not him…

When the riders passed under him, he noticed something strange about the leader. His hands were wrapped in bandages, as if he was a leper… or…

No, it cannot be…