into
sympathy and respect.
“Mother, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s in the past,” Iri said. She rubbed her bad
eye through the cloth. “Most of it. You probably have questions?”
A thousand and one , Tyrissa thought.
“Were you ever wrong?”
Through her entire story, her mother’s voice had
been steady as the mountains. For the next two words it wavered.
“Nobody’s perfect.”
Tyrissa felt a pang of shame, and tried to change
the subject.
“What was Kavelis? What sort of Pact did she
have?” She sounded like nothing Tyrissa had ever read about in her stories.
Pactbound were bound to Elements like Fire or Earth or Death, or to the will of
daemons.
“I don’t know. I met Kavelis all of three times.
The first when she declared me ‘compatible’, literally pulling me off the
street in Greden. I saw her a second time when she gave us this… ability and
one last time two years later to thank us and remove it. That was a somber
reunion. Only half of us survived to the end. Obviously the removal didn’t work
very well and since then my eye has never been quite right.” Iri looked down at
her hands as if seeing them in a new light. “I suppose that goes for my hands
too. For all her mysterious magick Kavelis was only human after all, and
she said that we were an experiment. I think she wasn’t sure if it would work
at all. Desperate times and all that.”
Tyrissa had a wealth of unknowns, but suddenly no
more questions. A short silence fell over the group.
“What’s our next step,” her father said, always
the pragmatist.
“Tyrissa can’t stay here,” Iri said. “The current
King’s Seekers will start their check of the smaller towns any day now. They
always come through with the census men at the end of summer. They aren’t aided
by pact magicks, but they’ll still find out about Tyrissa.”
The census men were so innocuous. Tyrissa only
ever saw them as funny men obsessed with accurate counts and bearing stacks of
ledgers. They worked with a methodical and fanatical, if polite, determination,
as if the stability of the entire kingdom rested on their shoulders. They were
shadowed by a single man or woman with a distinctive silver eye stitched to
their cloaks. That one never said a word, merely observed. Suddenly they
weren’t so innocuous. As for the Seekers, well, they kept the King’s Law: no
Pactbound. How they enforced that law was vague. Tyrissa had never heard of
anyone violating it.
That would leave a neighboring nation, but as
Tyrissa envisioned a map of Morgale she remembered there simply weren’t neighboring nations. Beyond the borders of the kingdom lay only wilderness
dotted with scattered towns that clung to ancient roads like the Fjordway.
“The caravan leaves in a few days,” Liran said.
“I can take Ty with me to Khalanheim. What’s more, as we were leaving the city,
the rumor mills began to hum with talk of a ‘mystic’ that can remove pacts.
There was a lot of noise about one of the senior Stone Shapers leaving their
order.” That was likely all rumor. Tyrissa hated being cynical, but the tales
were all unified on one thing: once you take on a Pact it is for life.
Iri sighed. “I don’t know Liran, Khalanheim is so
far away, and you have to cross the Vordeum Wastes.”
“Far away is what Ty needs. Khalanheim is less
safe than Morgale for the average person, sure, but its worlds safer for
Pactbound. The danger of the wastes is overblown. After all, I’ve done it twice
now. I’m still standing. Regardless, Ty will be safer there. She won’t be a
fugitive, and will be able learn more about her new… situation. Perhaps even be
cured, if rumors are to be believed.”
“They rarely are,” Iri said. “But you’ve sold me
on the idea, as is your way. Tyrissa?”
“I’ve always wanted to see Khalanheim.” The idea
of removing the Pact gave her dual flicker of hope and disgrace. Last night’s
wholesale acceptance suddenly felt
sympathy and respect.
“Mother, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s in the past,” Iri said. She rubbed her bad
eye through the cloth. “Most of it. You probably have questions?”
A thousand and one , Tyrissa thought.
“Were you ever wrong?”
Through her entire story, her mother’s voice had
been steady as the mountains. For the next two words it wavered.
“Nobody’s perfect.”
Tyrissa felt a pang of shame, and tried to change
the subject.
“What was Kavelis? What sort of Pact did she
have?” She sounded like nothing Tyrissa had ever read about in her stories.
Pactbound were bound to Elements like Fire or Earth or Death, or to the will of
daemons.
“I don’t know. I met Kavelis all of three times.
The first when she declared me ‘compatible’, literally pulling me off the
street in Greden. I saw her a second time when she gave us this… ability and
one last time two years later to thank us and remove it. That was a somber
reunion. Only half of us survived to the end. Obviously the removal didn’t work
very well and since then my eye has never been quite right.” Iri looked down at
her hands as if seeing them in a new light. “I suppose that goes for my hands
too. For all her mysterious magick Kavelis was only human after all, and
she said that we were an experiment. I think she wasn’t sure if it would work
at all. Desperate times and all that.”
Tyrissa had a wealth of unknowns, but suddenly no
more questions. A short silence fell over the group.
“What’s our next step,” her father said, always
the pragmatist.
“Tyrissa can’t stay here,” Iri said. “The current
King’s Seekers will start their check of the smaller towns any day now. They
always come through with the census men at the end of summer. They aren’t aided
by pact magicks, but they’ll still find out about Tyrissa.”
The census men were so innocuous. Tyrissa only
ever saw them as funny men obsessed with accurate counts and bearing stacks of
ledgers. They worked with a methodical and fanatical, if polite, determination,
as if the stability of the entire kingdom rested on their shoulders. They were
shadowed by a single man or woman with a distinctive silver eye stitched to
their cloaks. That one never said a word, merely observed. Suddenly they
weren’t so innocuous. As for the Seekers, well, they kept the King’s Law: no
Pactbound. How they enforced that law was vague. Tyrissa had never heard of
anyone violating it.
That would leave a neighboring nation, but as
Tyrissa envisioned a map of Morgale she remembered there simply weren’t neighboring nations. Beyond the borders of the kingdom lay only wilderness
dotted with scattered towns that clung to ancient roads like the Fjordway.
“The caravan leaves in a few days,” Liran said.
“I can take Ty with me to Khalanheim. What’s more, as we were leaving the city,
the rumor mills began to hum with talk of a ‘mystic’ that can remove pacts.
There was a lot of noise about one of the senior Stone Shapers leaving their
order.” That was likely all rumor. Tyrissa hated being cynical, but the tales
were all unified on one thing: once you take on a Pact it is for life.
Iri sighed. “I don’t know Liran, Khalanheim is so
far away, and you have to cross the Vordeum Wastes.”
“Far away is what Ty needs. Khalanheim is less
safe than Morgale for the average person, sure, but its worlds safer for
Pactbound. The danger of the wastes is overblown. After all, I’ve done it twice
now. I’m still standing. Regardless, Ty will be safer there. She won’t be a
fugitive, and will be able learn more about her new… situation. Perhaps even be
cured, if rumors are to be believed.”
“They rarely are,” Iri said. “But you’ve sold me
on the idea, as is your way. Tyrissa?”
“I’ve always wanted to see Khalanheim.” The idea
of removing the Pact gave her dual flicker of hope and disgrace. Last night’s
wholesale acceptance suddenly felt
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