Kanin Fyre: Chapter 5 - Not Another Emrox

Unsurprisingly, Siqi’s office reveals no indication of when Siqi intends to return to the Academy. I also don’t have any luck finding notes on void magic. There are certainly some kind of notes, scrawled in such an illegible script that even Echo has trouble translating, but they’re either about other types of null magic, or they’re at such a technical degree I don’t understand what I’m looking at. There probably is something of use in all this—though how long it would take to find it is another matter.

Besides. Why dig through his notes when I can go right to the source?

“Well, that’s about what I expected,” Trelisan says after a half hour of wading through the haphazard stacks of scrolls and loose pages that fill the man’s office. “Would you like for me to introduce you to some of the other professors in the department? I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

I try to turn her down gently. “I really appreciate the offer to work with you. But I’m not sure I have the time right now to wait around for answers. I need to talk this over with my friends first.”

“Of course,” Trelisan says, though she can’t entirely hide her disappointment.

I take pity on her. “Here, I’ll give you an address where you’ll be able to reach me.”

It’s Caesius’s address. I don’t really have an address of my own, and I would feel weird giving out Noli and Rezira’s right in front of them. The Academy won’t be able to contact me there in an emergency, but it’s somewhere I’ll return to at some point, and Caesius is sure to pass along any messages I receive while I’m away.

She’ll just give me shit for it when I get back.

Trelisan provides some parchment, and I shakily scrawl the address over the page. Not because I can’t move my hands precisely enough—I’ve gotten really good at spell circles—but because I’m still learning the alphabet and the shapes feel all wrong to me. I’m sure it looks like a five year old wrote it. Considering I’ve rebuilt my body from the ground up, I think Trelisan will forgive me for that.

“Well, I'll stop back in later,” I say, awkwardly attempting to depart despite the halfling's clear disappointment.

“Please do,” she says. “Oh! Wait a moment.” I'd already taken a step back when she leaps behind her desk to dig around several drawers. She returns with something that looks like a business card.

“If you need to reach me,” she explains.

Her name and title is on one side, and the other has a spell circle. I Inspect it.

[A navigational spell designed to send the designated item to a desired destination.]

Magic mail. Neat.

After another few minutes of “goodbye”s and inching backward, I'm finally free.

Rezira chuckles once we're out of earshot. “She sure liked you.”

“Really?” I sign. “I hadn't noticed.”

“I take it you won't be returning, then?” Zyneth asks.

I tuck the professor’s card away into my bag. “I mean, it's not a no…”

“But it's not not a no?” Noli suggests.

“Exactly.”

“Which one?” Rezira asks.

I lift my hands in a shrug. “The whole thing feels kind of weird. But maybe they really could help me. I don't know. Zyneth, what do your Rogue instincts tell you?”

He raises an amused eyebrow. “My rogue instincts?”

“Yes, it's your class. Don’t change the subject.”

Noli's eyes light up. “What's my class?”

“I think Master Trelisan was sincere,” Zyneth says, rubbing his chin. “Maybe a little tone deaf, but she did seem eager to work with you. I don't think there was any malicious intent.”

That was the vibe I got, too. “Maybe I’ll come back and talk to her after all the Lost Soul stuff has been sorted.”

We head back out into the city streets, unspokenly browsing for an inn. It’s sort of become the modus operandi for our little crew at this point. Noli likes ones that double as a tavern, while Rezira keeps an eye out for cleanliness. Zyneth hasn’t expressly said so, but I’m pretty sure he gauges the safety of the area and picks rooms based on which have the most egress points.

“Do you have any alternatives?” Rezira wonders as we walk. “Sounds like you didn’t want to wait around here to meet that void teacher.”

“Because I don’t have to,” I say, withdrawing the letter Caesius gave me. Zyneth holds out a hand, and I pass it to him to examine. “Caesius has his address.” Or at least, an address from several years ago. But it’s a better place to start than waiting around for months or years in the hope that he just shows up.

“How lucky!” Noli signs. She pauses. “But if you had that, why didn’t you tell the professor?”

“I don’t actually know if that address is still valid,” I admit. “Didn’t want to send her on a wild goose chase.”

Zyneth gives me a “I know that’s not the whole story” look.

“Okay, and maybe I’m not thrilled by the idea of sticking around here to be studied like some kind of exotic animal,” I admit. “If none of them know much more about void than I do, then Siqi is the one I need to pin down. I’d rather work one-on-one with him, anyway.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt to check it out,” Zyneth agrees. “If he’s not there, there’s nothing to stop us from returning to the Academy.” He pauses a moment while he examines the spell circle. “This address is in Dunmora.”

How can he tell that just from the spell circle? Without an Echo, even. Man, I need to get better at rune theory.

“It is,” I agree. “Along with the last Gods’ Tournament.”

Noli and Rezira go still.

Zyneth frowns. “Why do I feel like you’re mentioning that because it’s something you’d like to attend rather than avoid?”

“It might be my last chance to get some information on a god straight from the source,” I say. “The bulletin said it was for Yua Tin. They’re on our ‘Probably a Friend’ list, aren’t they?”

“Can we talk about this later?” Rezira stiffly signs. Noli doesn’t sign anything, but she gives her wife a worried look.

“Sorry,” I say.

“We’ll discuss it after we’ve figured out an inn,” Zyneth agrees.

Everyone nods or mumbles weak affirmations, and the rest of our walk is completed in awkward silence. Noli tries to point out a few stores or street performers that strike her fancy, but even her enthusiasm feels forced.

We find an inn that checks everyone’s boxes well before dinner. I deposit my things in Zyneth’s room, and he gives me a significant look.

“So are we going to talk about the God’s Tournament?” he says.

“You think it’s a bad idea,” I surmise.

“I think it’s risky,” he admits, sitting on the bed. “Yua Tin isn’t on our ‘Would Definitely Apprehend You,’ list, but they’re still unpredictable.”

“Probably a Friend list!”

“Probably being the operative word,” he says. “But it’s not guaranteed. There’s still perhaps a one-in-four chance they would abduct you. Even if they’re in our favor, I don’t like those odds.”

“You’re assuming they even notice me at all,” I say.

“I think it’s safer to go into this assuming they would.”

Fair enough. I rifle through my bag and pull out a small notebook I’ve been using to compile research on the gods. I can actually get Echo to take mental notes and lists for me, but this doubles as good practice for handwriting.

“They’re the god of starlight,” I say, reminding myself as I flip to their page. “And navigation. That doesn’t seem particularly devious.”

“The personality of the god doesn’t have to fit their domain,” Zyneth counters.

Though, as he’d told me before, there is often a strong correlation. “Do you believe that’s the case with Yua Tin?”

“No,” he says reluctantly. “Most of their stories feature their kindness. They’re known for steering lost ships back to safety.”

“Then they’re a safer bet than most,” I point out. “Running into one god or another seems pretty inevitable, considering they’re looking for me. At least this would be an opportunity to make it happen on my terms. And given my current level, I’ll need every advantage I can get.”

Worry creases his forehead. “It’s still a risk.”

I lean back against the wall, folding my arms. “If you think this is another Emrox, just say so. I won’t go if you tell me not to.”

Zyneth hesitates, quiet for a minute as he chews everything over. I wait patiently to see what he has to say.

I know everything he’s said is true. I know it’s a risk, and the last thing I want to do is drag Zyneth on another ill-fated journey that endangers his life. (Though after meeting Blair, I supposed he’s already involved, one way or another.)

But the guilt over the Travelers still plucks at me. Not just the fact that I’m responsible for all of them being brought here, but that some of them have become imprisoned. Some of them have died.

I think about that fire remnant almost every day, its flames burned into my memory. Anika. That was the name of the human that had been overwhelmed by her remnant. She suffered because of me. How many more are experiencing the same?

I have to find a way to help them. Blair is my only lead at this point, and she’d all but said there are other gods out there also trying to shield Travelers. I need to find them.

And I need to find a way to free the people who have been captured. I owe them that.

“Do you think they would notice your presence?” Zyneth finally asks.

“No,” I say. “Blair didn’t immediately notice when I first escaped her barrier. If they looked directly at me and Checked me, they’d know who I was, but just being in the area isn’t a risk. And as Blair said, they’re all looking for a human, not a homunculus.”

“There is that,” Zyneth agrees weakly. He sighs, clasping his hands behind his head, just beneath his horns. He leans back against the wall. “I don’t think this is another Emrox. There is better motivation for this. And I think you’re right that Yua Tin, of all the primary gods, is the most likely to help you. I think your chances are good. I just don’t like the idea of there being a chance that I’m wrong, no matter how small.”

I slump in sympathy, then head over and sit next to him. I hold out a hand and he takes it.

“After everything we’ve been through, you’re pretty dumb for sticking with a guy like me,” I say.

Zyneth coughs out a surprised laugh. “Thank you?”

“I’m a mess,” I say. “Always have been. And yeah, I’m working on it, but to some extent, I always will be. I’m going to fuck up. I’m going to do stupid shit—not that I want to, I’m just being realistic here. But whatever happens, it’s on me. If something happens at the Gods’ Tournament, it’s not going to be because of your bad judgement. I’ve gotten myself into this mess, and now I’m reaping the consequences. But you don’t have to as well. You can sit this one out.”

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “You’re not going to do this alone.”

My soul feels tight. I lean forward, and he gently bumps his forehead against my glass. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I probably deserve you,” he says.

I laugh. “What, as a punishment?”

“No.” He chuckles. “As a reminder. I don’t have to be defined by my past.”

I lean back from our forehead-tap. “You can always talk to me about that, you know.” He’s implied there’s a lot he feels guilty about, and some of it has to do with those tattoos on his arm, but he’s never gone into specifics.

“I know. One day,” he promises, voice soft. After a moment, he flashes an abrupt smile, pivoting the tone of the conversation. “But you’re definitely not a punishment; I’ve had more fun in the last year than at any other time in my life.”

“Fun?” I demand, allowing the change in topic to go without remark. “Exactly what part of the last year has been fun? Was it getting attacked by nightbanes? Stabbed by Ink—”

Ink reminds me that was a different Ink—that was the predator. Ink would not stab members of its pack.

“—Getting stranded at the bottom of the ocean? Being shot at by pirates? Fighting a feral librarian?”

Zyneth chuckles along with my commentary. “Well, at least you can’t say it’s been boring.”

“You know what?” I say, still teasing. “I think you like being in danger. You’re self-destructive is what you are.”

“Says the man made of glass,” Zyneth retorts, his eyes creased with amusement. “Who has literally destroyed his body at least twice now.”

“That’s entirely different!” I object. “I didn’t want it to be destroyed! In fact, I actively try to avoid that. What excuse do you have?”

“None, I suppose.” He smiles affectionately.

I can feel the humor slowly fading from the air around us as we lapse into silence.

“You sure you want to go?” he finally asks.

“Yes. You sure you want to come?”

“Entirely. Although,” Zyneth adds, “the schedule will be tight. The Tournament is only a week away.”

“Sounds like plenty of time,” I say.

He shakes his head. “It’s in Dunmora, remember? They don’t have a telepad network like in Valenia. We’d need to take a ship.”

If I had a face, I’d be making one. “Ships. Great.” I’ve had enough ocean for one lifetime, thanks.

He chuckles. “Probably an airship rather than an oceanic one.”

Okay, slightly better. Though don’t think I’ve forgotten about that airship pilot who was hitting on Zyneth. “How long would that take?”

“Five days or so,” he says. “But first we’ll need to find when and where the next ships depart, and then make sure we can take a telepad there in time. We’ll be cutting things close.”

I stand up. “I guess we better get started, then.”

“I guess so.”

By the time we head down into the tavern, only Rezira is there waiting for us. She tells us Noli left to find a mail service and send a letter to her family about where she’s staying. Since Zyneth and I are on a time crunch, we agree to meet back up for dinner.

It actually isn’t too hard to find the schedules Zyneth was looking for. There’s a couple different ports on Valenia’s west coast with regularly scheduled flights. They can get us directly to where the Tournament is happening, since it’s in a prominent city itself. The telepads to Valenia’s airship port can get us there tomorrow, with the airships departing the following day, and there are still a scattering of open slots for both that haven’t been booked. Altogether, we should be able to make it to the city one day before the Tournament.

We don’t buy the tickets just yet, however: it’s unclear how many we should book.

I breach the subject to Noli and Rezira over dinner. “Zyneth and I are going to Dunmora,” I tell them. “Tomorrow. I want to try to track down this void expert. But… before then we’re going to attend the Gods’ Tournament. I won’t ask you two to come, but, you know. I wanted to let you guys know.”

Rezira’s face contorts in a resigned grimace. “I don’t like it, but I understand why you have to do it.” She smiles sadly at Noli. “And I’m not about to stop my wife from going on another adventure.”

Noli squeezes her arm. “I appreciate that. But I won’t be going with them.”

Rezira lifts her brows in surprise. That makes two of us.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Absolutely,” Noli confirms. She meets my gaze. Or at least, she looks at my head, and is rightfully assuming I’m looking back. “I’ve already reached out to some family I’d like to catch up with—after seeing Murrok this summer, it made me realize I haven’t stopped by in a few years. Besides, I’m not really sure what I have to offer in accompanying you to this tournament or tracking down this expert. Apart from my unwavering support!” She smiles teasingly. “But if you’re in need of an archer, or an adventuring buddy, you know where to find me.”

I suspect a lot more of her motivation has to do with Rezira worrying about her than she's letting on, and from the way Rezira's looking at her, I don't think she's fooled either.

But neither of us speak up. I already feel bad that I'm sort of making Noli choose between us. Hasn't she been through enough?

“Okay,” I say. “Then, if all goes well, we'll probably be back in a month or so.”

“Send us letters,” Noli signs. “And not ones that are telling us you're wanted criminals and are going to be leaving the world forever.”

“That much I can promise,” I sign with a weak laugh.

Her smile softens. “I'll miss you.”

My soul squeezes. I've never had a friend like her before. She feels more like what I think family should feel like. “I'll miss you, too.”

Noli drums her fingers on the table in the lull that follows, then abruptly pushes herself to her feet. “I'll go get some food.” She hurries away before anyone has a chance to say what they want.

Ink only just started paying attention to our conversation and is still catching up. Wait, where is she going?

She's not going anywhere, I tell it. We are. Without her.

Why? That would break up the pack. She should come with us.

I wish I could say I disagreed. Life’s… messy. Sometimes people have different things they have to take care of. It's just temporary, though. We'll see her again in a few weeks. I hope that's the truth.

“Kanin,” Rezira says, and I turn my attention outward once more. “Thanks. And… I'm sorry. I don't want to be that spouse. I'm just worried about her. This stuff you're getting into—it's just way out of our league. I mean, they're the gods. We can't…”

“I get it,” I say. “You don't have to explain.”

She’s entirely within her right to not like this. Zyneth was there, he met Blair and heard her talk about division in the pantheon, and even he still seems conflicted on the matter. I'm just some outsider that got yanked into a world full of magic. From where I'm standing, the difference between these gods and “wildly strong magic users” is just a matter of semantics. They don't feel religious to me—not in the way I'm used to.

But for Noli, Rezira, and Zyneth—these are their gods. With all the history and culture and reverence that comes baked in. What I'm doing is asking them to be blasphemous, with the very real possibility of getting smited as a consequence.

Rezira lets out a frustrated sigh. “You know, the thing you guys went through, it really affected her. I can’t pretend to understand what that was like—I guess you’re the only one who can. Maybe that’s why you’re so important to her. And for that, you mean something to me. So if you ever need anything, if you ever need help, just say the word and we’ll be there.”

“As long as it doesn’t have to do with the gods,” I half-heartedly tease.

Rezira grimaces, and she suddenly looks tired and worn beyond her years. “Yeah. Anything but that.”