Arms clenched tight around Jarod, pulling him further in a realm of terrifying darkness and screaming. They were cold and strong against his skin. He watched beyond the black portal that Ionda had summoned as the magic user laughed while he was pulled into the realm beyond. Ionda’s eyes, blue and full of malice, were the last thing Jarod saw before his vision faded. The last thing he heard, the unholy cries of his captors.
* * *
Jarod’s eyes snapped open. His heart beat fast, but he was unable to move, unable to cry out at the terror. His eyes darted around, about the only thing he was able to do. They were ahead of him now, long limbs of steel, and a face behind it. But a familiar face. Tex’ana, watching over him and the rest of their party.
The pounding in his chest began to fade, along with it, his temporary sleep paralysis. It had been a dream. A terrible nightmare, but no more than that.
The moons shone through the inn’s windows, bright enough to cast a blue glow about the common room. All around him were men and women asleep, assorted travelers alongside members of his party recovering in beds. All of them except Tex’ana, who had still not relinquished his duty of keeping watch over them.
Nikolao had had to pay the innkeeper handsomely to allow Tex’ana to spend the night in the inn, and it was no surprise why. The sight servants were apparently not as rare in these parts as they had been in Cleftshire, but his menacing presence, particularly at this hour in the morning, was enough to make people question if it wasn’t smarter to spend the night in the barn.
Jarod took a deep breath and breathed out slowly, trying to right his mind out of the dream state it had awoken in. He sat up and searched around for a shirt. There wasn’t any point in trying to fall back asleep, especially not if it just meant more dreams of that underground lair.
Full rest (1)
Health: 5/10
Another night of recovery, making him as healthy as been before the debacle with the surveyors had started. At least the early rise wouldn’t have any detriments according to the mysterious System he’d been interacting with. An early rise that left him on edge, catching glimpses of movement and shifting patterns out of the corner of his eyes while his brain still caught up to wakefulness.. Maybe some fresh air would clear his head.
Jarod put on his cloak, and opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to wake the other dreamers.
The landscape had a strange sort of beauty to Jarod. He’d often seen it from afar when travelling to Blackpool Outlook, but only once in person on the trip where he’d tried to show off his blacksmithing work in Chath. It was even stranger in the moonlight. Tall green stalks stretching out for miles, each individually tinged with the pale moonlight. So different from the scenery Jarod was used to, it felt as though he were still in a dream.
The door to the inn opened behind him. He turned and saw a bleary-eyed Basma step out into the cool night. His eyes tracked her movement as she walked beside him and he gave a nod, more for thanks than anything else. They were two familiar friends, standing together like the moons.
“I hope I didn’t wake you up,” said Jarod.
“Maybe, but I wasn’t sleeping well. Too much to think about, especially this far from home.”
They let the pre-dawn quiet fill the gaps between their words, neither needing conversation to feel comfortable. It was true, they were a long way from home, whatever they had left. Even though he’d made this journey once before, Jarod had never felt as though home were such a distant memory, something he had to work to remember. It was a distance not only of miles, but also of character. He’d changed a lot in the last few days, if not him, then at least his life. Was there a difference between the two?
“I was dreaming about the mines,” said Basma quietly.
It took Jarod a couple breaths to find his simple reply. “Me too.”
“I just kept seeing Esther, and that horrible brigand that grabbed her in the cell. I was so scared when it happened.” The emotion had worked its way into her voice now, tremulous fear softened only slightly by the distance of a dream. “That dark cell and the sharp knife. Every time I saw him I was worried he’d…”
“I know.” Jarod didn’t make her finish when she had trouble finding the words. “It was the black arms that magic user summoned for me. I was wandering the corridors there, looking behind every door, and then he caught me. It was just a dream though.”
“Do you think they’ll be back?”
Jarod gazed out across the open fields, at the distance they still had to go, at the twinkling lights just barely visible from Chath, still far, but only a half-day’s ride. The open fields were unnatural for him, but they did bring comfort at least. Comfort that they wouldn’t be snuck up on.
“I don’t think the brigand will,” he said after a while. “Seemed to me like he just wanted to leave with his life. That Ionda fellow though. He had something he was looking for down there, and he might think we ruined it.”
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“I’ll feel safer once we get to the city. And once we get a battalion from the army to come with us.”
Jarod smiled at that. After his first run-in with the surveyors, he didn’t think he would want to see anyone associated with the king ever again. Now, after all they’d fought for, it would be a comfort to have so many armed men on their side, regardless of where they came from.
Basma asked him another question. “What do you think he was looking for down there? The magic user, that is.”
He thought back to his dream again, and to his memories of walking around the stone corridor with the runes carved on it. “It might have something to do with that little doorway Nikolao picked up. I think he wanted to talk to someone in the city about it,” Jarod said. “You didn’t happen to notice any writing on the walls down there, did you?”
Basma cocked her head to the side, thinking. “Not that I noticed. Maybe there was some in the room we hid in, I didn’t get a good look around there. Why do you ask?”
“Nothing, just curious if you’d noticed anything.” He didn’t want to hide what he’d seen from Basma, but he didn’t feel like having that conversation this early in the morning. He’d tell her some other time, maybe when he was more awake. Maybe over some drinks.
“I’m glad you came along,” Jarod said. “I feel bad for putting you in danger, but it was nice to have someone else have my back when we found Esther’s cloak.”
“Of course, silly,” Basma said with a warm smile. She wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him close to hold in her embrace. “I told you I was coming along to make sure you didn’t get cheated. Of course I was going to stand up for you.”
Jarod rested his head on Basma’s shoulder. Her body was warm against his in the early morning. He let himself be held for a moment, watching as the moonlight on the inn began to glow with the early morning haze of a sunrise.
Staring out from the window, Jarod saw the lanky figure of Tex’ana. Jarod’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise, and he drew a sharp inhale of breath at the recognition of the unnerving sight servant, but he relaxed again into Basma’s arms. The fear of the dream was already fading, and Tex’ana was no one he needed to fear once his brain was awake.
No reaction flitted across Tex’ana’s face, but he must have noticed Jarod looking, because he stepped away from the window. A moment later, the door opened, and he stepped outside, though Jarod noticed he did not stretch to his full height.
Jarod pulled away from Basma and lifted a hand in greeting, at the same time signalling to Basma that they had company.
“Hello Tex’ana,” said Basma. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to sleep again last night.”
The sight servant gave the familiar roll of his head. “The arrangement is acceptable to me. My needs will be met once our arrival in Chath is complete.”
Tex’ana looked at them with his pitch-black eyes, his expression unreadable as ever. He stared with a silence not quite as comfortable as when it was with only Jarod and Basma. The two of them weren’t sure how to react, it felt like Tex’ana was waiting for something.
Finally, Tex’ana spoke. “I wish to apologize if my presence was unduly frightening upon awakening this morning. Your discomfort is apparent, though I shall wish you did not experience it.”
“It’s fine Tex’ana, really,” said Jarod. “I’m just not used to you is all. I’m glad you’re here with us.”
Basma nodded. “I feel the same. You’re the reason Jarod got out of a prison sentence, so you’re better than any of the surveyors in my book.”
Placated, the sight servant stretched out briefly to pass an observant eye over the rooftops and around the plains, before settling down next to them. Even sitting, his head was at eye-level with theirs.
After Tex’ana’s very personal apology, Jarod felt comfortable asking the question that had been on his mind. “Those things the magic user summoned down in the mine, the long arms from his spell, are those from… others like you?”
Tex’ana made a new gesture at them. His head bowed forward, then his shoulders rolled back and he stretched his head back as far as it could go, like he was stretching it. When he finally resumed his previous posture, he gave them his answer.
“Yes, those are others of my people, those among us who still live in our plane of birth. It is a harsh place, within which are potentials for dangerous magics of control and binding. Often we shall be used for purposes such as those the one known as Ionda demonstrated efficiency in. We are known as the ifrithet, and such fate is our curse.”
“Your people just get bound by magic like that?” said Jarod. “That’s horrible!”
“It is the only existence known by those still in that realm. In many cases, the preference among the ifrithet is to be bound to your realm where we shall act on the intentions of those that summon us.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
Tex’ana gave the more customary roll of his head. “Such a situation is the origin of every sight servant. A binding to one in service of the kingdom is much preferable to existence on that plane, and shall be much preferred to binding to ones outside the purview of your king. We are called here by many who are known as magic users who call us demons and should have us carry out their actions. Compared to such existence, travel upon the behalf of the king shall be more favorable.”
Jarod and Basma just looked at the sight servant, mouths agape as they took in the information. Jarod might have been beginning to get comfortable with Tex’ana’s disquietous presence, but his self-pronouncement as a demon called that into question. It would explain the terrible cry that the sight servant had emitted to scare off the trifleys. All the same, it was hard to think of him as strictly demonic.
“That sounds like a hard life,” said Basma. “Being forced by someone into a path you didn’t choose.”
“Contradiction. It is far easier for life than the native realm of the ifrithet.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not hard,” said Basma, with more sympathy than Jarod could muster. “Can’t they release you, so you can just live your own life?”
Jarod wasn’t sure that was a good idea. What knew about demons came from folklore and the passing bard who told stories of how the creatures had turned on their masters given the opportunity.
Tex’ana’s response echoed some of his sentiment. “Our oaths fail then to bind us. It is not done.”
Basma still pressed the issue. “But you wouldn’t do that, right? You’ve done so much to help us already, I can’t believe you’d turn on us.”
“I say I will not, but who shall believe me.”
“There you lot are,” Nikolao’s voice called out loud in the morning calm. “I’ve had the innkeeper make us an early breakfast. Grab it while it’s hot, and we’ll leave for Chath shortly.”
Jarod and Basma looked at Tex’ana, awaiting further response, but he had no more to say. He stood up smoothly, stretching now to his full height, and walked back into the tavern.
Jarod shared a look with his companion. He had strange things to think about on the morning’s ride to Chath. Strange and portentous news indeed.