The Fickle Winds of Autumn

Kira’s echoing footsteps bounced down the Cathedral corridors; the smooth solidity of the stone floor vibrated up through her feet with a familiar sense of purpose; the evocative smell of the Church incense greeted her as an old friend; even the dancing light from the oil lamps which lined the walls induced a sad and urgent nostalgia.

She kept her face down, tucked beneath the shade of her cowl, and followed the knowledgeable strides of Brother Simeon towards Aldwyn’s chambers.

It would be strange to sleep without the stars whirling above her, or the damp scents of the forest to lull her towards slumber.

But the nights had grown so cold now.

What a luxury it would be!

Warm bedding and perhaps even a fireplace to sleep by.

And food!

Her hollow stomach rumbled in expectant appreciation.

Brother Simeon unlocked an ornate door and motioned for them to enter.

Kira shuffled behind Aldwyn and Ellis into a room that was much grander than she had expected - far more luxurious than her empty white chamber in the convent - it had its own table and chairs; the walls were adorned with several richly appointed tapestries; two more doors seemed to lead off into other separate spaces.

A recessed hearth sat waiting to chase off the deep autumn chill.

There was even a window!

The nuns had always described such things as openings onto the gateways of Sin, and an expensive and unnecessary luxury.

Even now, with all of the world that she had already seen, it still seemed a peculiar idea - to be safely ensconced inside the dryness of a room, and yet still be able to see the burnished colours of a wet autumn evening, laid out below the vastness of the darkening skies.

Her inquisitive questions burned and wriggled - but she bit her tongue and resisted the urge to say anything, just as Aldwyn had instructed.

Maintaining the intense, suffocating silence had not been an easy experience - especially when the Patrex had mentioned the witch attack. True, she had accidentally dropped her cup of water at the memory of the unnerving horror - but she had still managed to keep her mouth tightly shut.

She tried to force her eyes down low, but they stubbornly gazed about and absorbed the exuberant curiosities of the room.

Another priest entered and deposited a tray of food on the table.

Her nose inhaled the enticing display with keen interest.

Brother Simeon finished lighting the fire and left the room.

Ellis opened his mouth. “But why…”

Aldwyn held out a warning finger; he crossed the room and tested that the door was firmly shut.

The urgent, stabbing questions bubbled up from deep within Kira and tried to force their way out of her mouth.

The continued frustration of silence gnawed and corrupted her insides. But even in her own vexation, she could sense that Ellis was more desperate and impatient to speak. Even back in the Patrex’s study, with all those other men watching on, he had twitched and strained - and after all, he had known Aldwyn for much longer than her.

Aldwyn returned and warmed himself by the flourishing fire. He lowered his finger.

“But why did they call you Talmadge?” Ellis demanded.

Aldwyn winced and raised his finger once more; he motioned at Ellis to keep his voice down.

“I am an old man,” said Aldwyn in a muted tone, “and I have been known by many names in my past lives. A man’s name should change, from time to time, to suit his situation in life - the man we call ‘king’ today, was once called ‘prince’ when he was born, and then ‘heir’ when he grew older - taking the various names that the phases and stages of his life present to him.”

“Oh! And now I suppose you’re going to tell us you’re royalty too!?” said Ellis.

The dense wool of Kira’s cowl scratched and itched at her scalp.

Surely Aldwyn couldn’t expect her to wear it all the time?

She pulled the restrictive hood off and shook her relieved hair out.

The food and water waited patiently on the table; it looked up invitingly at her.

It seemed that Ellis and Aldwyn’s conversation would be a long one - best make herself comfortable.

She pulled out a chair and sat in the cosy nook of the room; her mouth munched and delighted in a deliciously savoury cold meat pie.

“No,” Aldwyn continued, “I am no king - but I have changed my name to suit my circumstances. As you may have gathered from that conversation, long ago I worked for the Church - in fact, I was the Grand Harmonist.”

Kira coughed; the appetizing crust of pie was surprised by these words and refused to go down properly.

Had she really been in the presence of such a high-ranking official all this time?

A man of such power and importance?

Even if his grubby robes did not reflect this?

And she had even met the Patrex too - the head of the whole Church - and been in his very room!

How jealous Amber would be when she got back to the convent and told her all about it!

And just what would the nuns make of it?

“I thought that’s what they said!” Ellis exclaimed. “But how? Why you? I mean, everyone knows that the Harmonist must be a poly-born - but you only wield the Magik of Healing.”

Aldwyn held up his finger again.

Kira stopped chewing and sat motionless.

The warming crackle of the fire spat out across the hushed room.

From the corridor, a series of faint footsteps reverberated into the distance.

“And you left all this luxury to go and live in a backwater hamlet like Thinisby?” Ellis continued.

“Backwaters are often the best and most interesting places to be,” Aldwyn replied. “And if I hadn’t been there, I would never have met you - or Kira either, for that matter.”

“You still haven’t answered,” Ellis persisted. “Why did you leave?”

“It’s a long and painful story…” Aldwyn said.

Ellis leant forward. “Well, I need to hear it,” he said.

Kira reached for some of the aromatic freshly baked bread and helped herself to butter and cheese. Despite the fierce urgings of her stomach, she found that her ears also burned to hear the tale.

“Very well,” Aldwyn began, “some years ago, while I was the Harmonist, it seems that the old Patrex was somehow seduced and fell in love with a witch.”

“A witch?” said Ellis. “But I’ve heard that they are monstrous, ugly creatures. How could anyone love something like that?”

Kira shuddered; her mind bruised back to the horror of the grotesque flying silhouettes and the deadly havoc they caused.

“Witches can take on a number of forms,” Aldwyn said. “It seems they can, on occasion, even take the guise of a human - and it is also possible that she somehow used her magik to deceive him. Witches, as you know, are bound to the spirits of the trees - the old Patrex was fond of walking through the woods - he used to say it helped him relax and think - so that must have been where they met.”

Kira’s memories jabbed and convulsed; she had not been taught about the connection to the trees - but it was true that when she first noticed the insidious fiends she had believed the forest had come to life.

“As you know,” Aldwyn continued, “Love binds together the hearts of those involved - but when a human falls in love with a witch, it can be a very messy business - for not just their hearts and minds become entwined, but their very souls become bound together in a deep and unnatural union. After some time, the witch, the seductress, became gravely ill - but because of her deep connection to the Patrex - these ‘soul-bonds’ which joined them together - just as the witch withered under her affliction, so too did the Patrex.”

The salted seasoning of the pie dried at the back of Kira’s throat. She reached for the water, but did not let her eyes wander from Aldwyn.

“Naturally,” he said, “the rest of the Pleiad summoned me to heal him. But I immediately sensed that this was no ordinary illness. The old Patrex and I had been the closest of friends, so there was little he could keep hidden from me, and I soon learned the truth of what had befallen him. When the witch died, I was unable to save the Patrex - but there are worse things in this world than death - and if I had allowed his body to remain intact, the soul of the witch would have inhabited his corpse and used his corrupted flesh to roam this world forever. Therefore, I was left with no choice but to wield my magik to ensure that my old friend did not rise again and spend the rest of eternity as the ghoulish slave of the creature who had so besotted him.”

Aldwyn shuffled in front of the fire.

Perhaps it was too hot for him?

Perhaps he was tired?

But he seemed distracted.

“It was a necessary task,” he continued, “an act of kindness in many ways - but nonetheless a grisly and unpleasant affair - I had never thought to use the magik to destroy my good friend in such a way, and I vowed after that, never again to wield any magik but that which Heals. The twisted ties of necromancy are a foul and debased form of magik -but a very powerful one, and the power of the spell itself, threatened to drag me down into the tainted pit of despair and horror.”

Kira’s fingers stopped as they gripped at the pot of honey.

Poor Aldwyn!

How terrible it must have been for him.

What if it had been Amber, or even Ellis, in that situation?

What would she have done?

How would she have reacted?

Despite the glowing warmth of the fire, a cold, queasy shiver rippled down the length of her body.

Aldwyn cleared his throat and continued.

“Because I had been forced to obliterate my friend’s body in this way, the rest of the fools in the Pleiad believed that I had killed him - that I was responsible for murdering the old Patrex. His death brought the current incumbent, Steadman, into power. He was not universally liked - he had been a soldier in his youth, which was an unusual route into the Church - and those who had been priests all their lives - those who had studied, and trained, and plotted, and waited for their chance to seize the power of leadership - were sorely disappointed by this. They could not oust Steadman from his position, so they vented their bile on me, and openly accused me of slaying the old leader in order to help Steadman usurp his place.”

Kira bit into the soft bread and honey; the sweet flavour tried to drag her back to the convent - but her ears and interest pinned her in the room with Aldwyn.

“Steadman himself was too new, with not enough allies to protect me - perhaps he did not want to begin his leadership by ruffling too many feathers - or perhaps he felt that by helping me, he would give credence to the lies of the others - so he chose to ignore my unjust treatment and acted on these false accusations. I was expelled from the Church - chased out and left homeless, without a single coin in my purse to call my own - after all my years of loyal service and sacrifice; my reputation in tatters. It was a bitter and chastening experience, but I resolved then to use my gift of magik to put some good back into this world - to heal the sick and wounded, and bring comfort where I could. I changed my name - and was given others - and, after some time spent wandering, I set up in a ‘backwater’ as you call it, to live out my years in a quiet life of service.”

“But if you are a poly-born,” Ellis blurted out, “you could have saved us from the wolf attack - or the slavers even!”

Aldwyn shook his head.

“You, more than most, should know that, even if I had been prepared to break my vow, there was simply not enough time to focus and summon a spell - the wolves would have torn me apart before I could have reached the right level of concentration.”

A set of footsteps echoed in the distant corridor; an oppressed stillness filled the room. Aldwyn shifted his weight and spoke again.

“That is why I asked you both to be silent and cover your faces when we arrived - for this is not the pure and simple place of faith it may appear, but rather, a scheming bed of ambitious vipers, more treacherous and deadly than any royal court. Some here do have a true spiritual calling - but others simply lust for power - and sadly, all too often, they are the ones who gain promotion and then use their new authority for their own aggrandisement. We cannot trust the people here - those with the deepest faith also harbour the deepest desires - we must be cautious and wary of them all.”

Kira shuddered.

It seemed so unfair that Aldwyn was treated like that - but her own experience with the nuns had taught her that he was right - those who professed the most religious zeal could also be the cruellest and least compassionate.

“Well,” Aldwyn concluded, “such was my tale. But the world turns itself in strange circles - just as the hot season follows the cold - and now, as you have just seen, some of the same vultures who chased me out, need my help.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“But, you’re not going to do it though?” said Kira. “Not after how they treated you?”

“If I do decide to act, it will be for the benefit of all humans - and not just these self-centred snakes. But I’ve done discussing them. You two eat and rest here, you should be safe enough - but keep this door locked and speak to no-one. I must go to the Library - I have much work to do, and my mind is too restless for the answers - I know it would be no use trying to sleep this evening, as tired as the journey here has made me.”

“Well! What an awful story!” Kira said, as the old man closed the door behind him. “I’ve never seen him angry before - not like he was back with the Patrex - and no wonder!”

Ellis sat opposite her and picked at the loaf of bread.

“And then having to destroy his own friend like that,” she added. “How awful it must have been for him. I could never do anything like that.”

Ellis pulled off a chunk of bread and tore it into smaller pieces.

“And then it was so strange when they called him ‘Talmadge’,” Kira continued. “I don’t think I could ever get used to calling him that.”

“But he lied to me about his magik,” Ellis said. “Or at least, he hasn’t been truthful with me all these years.”

“But he was just upset and didn’t want to talk about his past life in this place - and no wonder after what they did to him! Surely you can understand why he didn’t want to go into all about being a poly-born, or what-ever it is?”

Ellis crumbled the bread into a pile on his plate.

“I mean, he’s taken care of you,” Kira said, “and taught you well, so does it even really matter?”

“Yes it does matter!” Ellis said. “Which hue of magik you wield is the single most important thing about any magikant - and if he hasn’t been honest about that - then who knows what other secrets he’s been keeping from us.”