2411 Strilaxis 11, Briss

Kymalin tucked her hands inside her wool coat, grateful for the heat the fur deposited into her system. Last night's rainstorm had been so strong it's miracle the roof of her shack stayed glued over the walls. Otherwise, she would have been left to absorb rainwater throughout the evening. Some wonders ophurie glue does.

Her footsteps squelched against the ground, the soil still a bit slippery due to the storm last night. Occasionally, her shoulders would receive a few droplets of water edging down from the leaves making up the canopy. A misty veil hung in the air, guarding the horizon and making the trees' trunks be nothing but thin but dark silhouettes.

The smell of blood, sweat, and upturned mud assaulted Kymalin's nose. It was something she had to get used to after camping in Asopus. Managed to kill any appetite she had but that's about the impact it had to her health. She wouldn't die just from inhaling the fumes wafting from the butchers' square a few miles down here.

She blew a breath, watching it crystallize in a puff of smoke near her nose. It's always a cool thing to observe, even when she was back at the Temple. Her stomach soured at the thought. Veril, the spirit she entrusted to watch over her brother, had reported two days ago about Vaeri's condition. It wasn't good. The fact that nothing changed and it's the same report since the last time the spirit appeared wasn't good.

It had been a few years since she had been serving the Heiress but she couldn't get the purchase to ask how many more missions she had to send Kymalin into to fulfill her wish. First, it was rude and would probably anger the Heiress. Second, it would definitely anger the Heiress.

The leader of Cardovia had a timeline of her own, and judging from the whispers and bits and pieces of conversation Kymalin gathered from her fellow magistrates, the Heiress was gearing for something big in the near future. Kymalin had to be there when that happens, hence the stakeout in Asopus. She needed to gather more information regarding the additional mission the Heiress had given her in secret.

Find the Virtakios.

A few years ago, when she was first made a Magistrate, she didn't know what it was. Now, as she devoured the meager tomes she could get her hands on about it, she realized some of the Heiress' goals. Not only was the Virtakios the rarest branch of magic in the island, it was also the strongest. With the ability to alter the very aspects of the world, the Virtakios could give anyone the power to mold reality to what they saw fit.

During one of the correspondence with the Heires about the details on how Kymalin was supposed to start her search, the Heiress had stared at her with obvious annoyance and pain in her eyes. "I felt its presence appear fifteen years ago but vanished just as quickly," she said. "When I checked the place out and weeded some vermin that needed extermination, I was able to know that some have hidden it."

Kymalin had knitted her eyebrows then. "Where do you think they hid it?"

The Heiress rolled her shoulders, making the pins on her coat clink against each other. "That's going to be your job," she said. "The last trace of the people who had the information are in Jehnasson. I can track all of them one by one but it would take time. Time I sure can give to other...pressing things."

The Heiress also said something about the Virtakios being sealed so its presence wasn't felt in the island at all. Kymalin racked her brain on how to get around that. The people who knew something wouldn't talk. The Virtakios was hidden. She didn't know the first one who could possibly point her to the right direction.

For years, she traveled territories, spying information rings and gathering her ammunition. So far, she had nothing concrete to work with. Asopus was the her last resort. Perhaps some port pirates and criminals could tell her something. Or anything, really.

A wail pierced the air, tearing Kymalin from her thoughts. She cursed. A graspel so early in the morning? It's the worst luck, ever. She sighed. Her fingers closed around the sword sheathed by her hip. She needed meat anyway. Might as well.

Soon, she was dashing through the undergrowth, keeping her eyes and ears peeled for the smelly and woolly animal. Graspelis were considered pest in these parts of Carleon so Kymalin was actually doing Drodham and the local Asopus administration a favor for hunting them. Not only she was getting meat, she was helping clean the environment too.

And it wasn't like graspelis were bad for nature. It's just that they almost always wander into the wrong neighborhood and bring chaos and havoc with them. Kymalin had never seen a community ransacked by graspel but from the talk she heard about it, they weren't in the best shape for a long, long time.

The slope of the mountain brought her to a clearing when it leveled for a brief interval. Something whizzed behind Kymalin. She turned to find a graspel pawing the ground with its hoof, ready to ram someone or something to death. Good. Exactly where Kymalin needed it. Graspelis weren't good in changing their direction or sensing movement from behind. Better. Kymalin lowered herself to a stance, drawing her sword with a quiet hiss. Graspelis could also sense magic so she wasn't going to risk it.

Here goes nothing.

She lunged, catapulting herself straight to the graspel's exposed leg. Her sword cut cleanly into the flesh, dousing her face with hot, red blood as she slid underneath it. The graspel bleated, the loud sound sending Kymalin's ears ringing. With a grunt, she emerged from the graspel's underside and slashed her sword at the nerve between the creature's eyes with a precise cut she had perfected over the years.

The graspel's eyes rolled to the back of its big, woolly head before its legs gave way to its dead weight. She was sure the ground shook when a whole ton of wool, flesh, and horns slammed into the soil with a loud squelch. There's her meat. Yum.

She laid her sword against the graspel's neck and shaslhed down. Blood gushed out from the wound even more. It almost made a river between her feet. Graspel meat was hard on the outside. The tender ones were somewhere between the bone and the hard layer. Kymalin was about to use her sword to saw past the steel-like wool when something moved behind her.

She whirled around, expecting to find an enemy or a rogue butcher looking to steal her catch. Instead, her eyes landed on a girl not older than her, sitting on her rear and staring up at the animal with wide, mismatched eyes.

Kymalin did a double-take. Oh, yeah. The girl's eyes were of different colors. One was a light shade of teal and the other of purple. Then, she noticed the butterfly wings jutting out of the girl's back. A varichria, huh?

"Hey, you alright?" Kymalin said, her voice sounding weird in her ears aloud. She hadn't spoken to anyone for about a month. "You're safe now. I killed it."

The girl snapped out of her trance and regarded Kymalin with a passive stare. Judging from how her eyes go from wide to its original size told Kymalin that this girl had seen enough. Where and how wasn't exactly in her interest.

"Thank you," the varichria said, dusting her already dusty and well-worn trousers of flecks of mud. It was about as effective as a banshee growing wings. "Are you from around here? Where are we?"

Kymalin raised an eyebrow. "I am, yeah," she lied. Well, technically, she was a banshee and she was from Carleon. Just from a different city. But whatever. "We're in Carleon."

The girl dug her teeth against her lip. "Carleon, huh?" she said. "Have you see anyone here other than me?"

Kymalin craned her neck to the sky and strained her ears of any sounds other than the caws of birds, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional shrieks and tkk-tkk-tkk noises of some critters. So far, nothing. She shook her head. "It's just you, sorry," she said.

Sadness and perhaps fear shrouded the girl's eyes. Kymalin perked up. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better," she blurted. "You can rest in my shack. It isn't far from here. From this big boy here, I can make you a nice stew. What do you say?"

The girl smiled. It was innocent yet pained at the same time. "I'd like that," she said.

Kymalin returned the gesture. "I'm Kym," she said, turning around to attend to her kill. Now that she has a guest, she has to finish cleaning this up faster. "What's your name?"

From behind the huge wall of wool between Kymalin and the varichria came her reply, "Reeca," she said. "My name is Reeca."