[Mkguild] Dominion of the Hyacinth (10/10) Revised

[C. Matthias]

I want to apologize to Chris Hoekstra.  When 
adding his edits I missed a big chunk in this 
section.  I hope that I haven't missed any 
others.  Here is the revised version of the Epilogue with the changes made.

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Epilogue


Unable to do anything to help the hawks, once 
they were all dressed, they accepted Christina's 
invitation to a real meal at her husband's tavern 
a short walk from the barracks. The tavern, which 
sported a kingfisher lifting a tankard to its 
beak with its toes, was modest in comparison to 
the Deaf Mule or the other taverns in Keeptowne, 
but it was clean, with sweet smelling candles and 
lanterns that cast a warm light in almost every 
corner, sturdy long tables with enough space 
between each to keep tails from being stepped on, 
and plenty of thick, frothing ale, smoked fish, 
and savory bread to sate all their appetites.

Murikeer was not content to trust that Weyden 
would keep Jessica safe, and so had tied a very 
small tracking spell to his wings as they made 
ready to leave. So even as he ate and drank, 
enjoying the company of his friends, and the 
bemused glances that Christina gave them all when 
she served them their drinks, he could feel along 
that spell through the discomfort it brought him 
to know how the hawks were doing.

With the storm overhead there was nowhere for him 
or the others to go so they relaxed in the tavern 
telling stories, eating, drinking, and doing 
their best not to talk about their recent three 
hours of childhood. Murikeer enjoyed watching his 
friends relax and enjoy themselves, even if it 
wasn't until the storm grew its worst over the 
lake, pounding the tavern roof and flashing in 
the narrow windows that he was able to relax.

He could feel through his little spell Weyden's 
relief. He wasn't sure where the hawks were 
beyond their general direction, but wherever it 
was they must be safe. By that hour is was late 
and he knew that they would have to either accept 
Naomi's offer of a place in the barracks to sleep 
or find a room for himself. Lester, Christina's 
husband, boasted about the half-dozen rooms he 
had available and the skunk mage was leaning 
toward seeing if they were as comfortable as the leopard claimed.

A familiar figure settled in next to him with a 
fresh tankard of ale. The raccoon grinned and 
dipped his snout into the froth and lapped it 
clean. “Ah, a very satisfying way to end the day. 
It is good to work together again, is it not, Muri?”

“We didn't do much,” Muri said with a shrug. “But 
at least the hawks are safe now.”

“I know,” Rickkter grinned, his striped tail 
flicking upward and almost landing on the bench. 
“Tracking spells are wonderful things.”

“I didn't see yours,” the skunk admitted with a 
nod of his head. “You are getting better at that, 
master.” The last he added with a chortle. 
Rickkter had long since recognized Murikeer's 
mastery in magic and was content to be friend rather than tutor and mentor.

“Who says I cast my own?” The raccoon's snout 
broke into another smile as he glanced across 
several tables to where Charles and James the 
donkey were enjoying their evening meal. He then 
sipped his ale again. “I trust things are still well with you and Kozaithy?”
“They are. She's enjoying the country far more than the Keep.”

“Have you taken on any more students, besides her and Lady Kimberly?”

“Not as of yet. Kozaithy still summons more smoke 
than flame, but Kimberly is proving herself 
capable.” Murikeer nodded and wrapped his paw 
about the mazer of half drunk ale sitting on the 
table in front of him. “Kimberly is more skilled 
with magic than I had first suspected, but it 
will be many years yet before I teach her 
anything more dangerous than lighting candles.” 
He smiled fondly remembering their last session a 
few days ago. “She says she hopes that I would 
teach her children if any of them show any 
talent. She was dancing a witchlight around and 
letting her children try and catch it. That was... a true wonder.”

The raccoon's eyes grew distant and in them the 
skunk saw the hint of a pleasant memory. But the 
moment past with a blink and Rickkter's gaze 
returned to him. “Do you recall, when I first 
took you on as an apprentice, why I was reluctant 
to do so? The welfare of the student; this is an 
obligation a master possesses by virtue of being 
master.” He nodded toward the rat. “She is your 
obligations, same as you were mine.”

“I know that,” Muri replied with a frown. “Why 
are you...” he followed the raccoon's gaze and 
saw the table where Charles and James were 
attempting to drink with their arms intertwined. “So it's about him.”

“He's the last of the Marzac party still here in 
the valley. And he is the last of them to 
manifest it. There is no question of if he will, 
only when he turns toward that evil.” Rickkter 
lifted his mazer to his snout but did not drink. 
“And when that happens, and it will happen, I 
think the best person to save him will be Lady 
Kimberly. Or perhaps his children. But at the 
same time, they will be in greater danger than 
the rest of us.” He narrowed his eyes and fixed 
Muri with a stern gaze. “You need to make sure she's prepared for it.”

He took a deep breath and licked the back of his 
fangs. “Charles has told her about Marzac and she 
knows what happened to James. She's not stupid. 
She knows what it means for Charles.”

“Knowing and admitting out loud are two different things.”

“As you say,” Muri conceded though in his heart 
he hoped that there would still be some way yet 
for Charles to avoid the corruption. “Why do you say she could best help him?”

“It seems to be the one weakness of Marzac – the 
only weakness that I can think of. Think back on 
the last times its arisen, those who turned the 
battle against it. This time Jessica had Weyden. 
Before that, James had Baerle, and Kayla had me. 
When it comes for Charles, Kimberly, or perhaps 
one of his children, stand the greatest chance of turning him away from it.”

“You were also its target. Kayla tried to destroy 
you with it. Same for Jessica.” He sighed 
heavily, his tail lashing about his legs. “And 
you're also thinking the same for Charles.”

“It fits the pattern. We've dealt with it three 
times; we've beaten it three times. We know this, 
and worst of all, it knows this. I fear it may 
try something different this time. Thankfully 
Charles' power is not as... far reaching as 
Jessica's is. Whatever happens will be... personal.”

Murikeer sipped at his ale and then licked his 
whiskers with a grimace. “Now even mere hours ago 
we defeat this thing and here we sit worrying and 
growing paranoid about the next time.”

“Because when facing the inevitable, there's 
often little else one can do.” Rickkter swirled 
his own drink and took a sip. “A last thing; 
Marzac seems to need an anchor in this world. To 
my knowledge Charles does not have any artifacts 
that could talk to him. Kayla had the swords, 
James the bell, and Jessica the hyacinth. To beat 
this, we need to figure out what Charles has. It 
may already be twisting his mind and we just haven't seen it.”

“I cannot think of anything myself,” Muri 
conceded. “I will be sure to speak with Kimberly 
tomorrow. She is due for another lesson anyway. 
But Rick, this is going to upset her very deeply.”

“Such is Marzac,” Rickkter took a long swill of 
ale and sloshed it between his fangs before 
swallowing. A little dribbled out either side of 
his jowls and he wiped them on his sleeve. “And 
you know what... even with all this, I'm still 
pissed that I didn't get to go with them into that hell!”

Murikeer managed a laugh. But his eye kept 
straying to the rat a few tables away. What evil 
would Marzac seek through him? He dipped his 
snout into his mazer and drank. He would not sleep well tonight.

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Mother Wilfrida, unable to sleep, waddled along 
the makeshift convent still under construction. 
The storm had passed Metamor a few hours ago, but 
still her mind could not settle itself. The 
mallard knew that something must be amiss for her 
to find it so hard to take her sleep. In a couple 
of hours she and the other sisters would rise for 
the early morning prayers before they began a new 
day of cleaning, prayer, and tending the poor of Metamor.

She always trusted Eli had a reason to keep her 
from sleeping on nights like this. She kept her 
prayer beads in one wing arm and counted her Hail 
Yanlins with expectancy, asking that most holy of 
women what it might be but she knew the answer 
would only come when it was ready.

After seven decades the answer arrived. There was 
a timorous knock on the convent door. Curious, 
the mallard waddled over and eased the door open. 
Standing before her in torn trousers and a grease 
stained linen shirt was an animal child. She did 
not recognize the species, but he had a long, 
thick tail jutting out behind him with a black 
tip, a flat head with large eyes, round ears, and 
black paws for hands. In fact, as she looked at 
him she wondered if perhaps he was more beast than child.

“What may I do for you, child?”

The creature ducked his head once as if gathering 
courage, and then looked at her bill. “Mother, 
I... I need your help. You're the only one I can think of who can help.”

“What is it you need help with little one?”

His face twisted in a way that she had learned in 
her five months here at Metamor was an 
embarrassed grimace. “There's... um.... there's a 
bunch.... a bunch of orphans, Mother. A bunch of 
orphans.” He nodded and slapped his tail against 
the wet stones. “A bunch of orphans who need 
help. We've been stealing food and other things to live. We need your help.”

She blinked, trying to decide whether this fellow 
was a child or not. His size and something in his 
diffidence suggested a child, but not the way he 
spoke. “Are you an orphan too?”

“I...” he lowered his head and rubbed one foot 
over the other. “I am, Mother. But... not the 
same as the others. Please help me help the rest. 
They need mothers and fathers to care for them and teach them right.”

Wilfrida bent down, pushing the door open all the 
way. “We will certainly help them. And you. Do 
you need a mother and father too?” She wasn't 
sure what she suspected, but she would find out.

A strange wistfulness came to his face and then 
he shook his head. “I just need to help them, 
Mother. And prayers.... I never much paid 
attention to that when I really was a child.”

The nun extended a wing and waddled forward a 
step. “What is your name, little one?”

He looked up at her and sighed, a tear dripping 
down one cheek. “Kuna.” He took a step back. “I 
have to go or they'll miss me. I'll be back soon. Thank you, Mother!”

She tried to stop him but the little fellow 
dropped to all fours and scampered down the road 
and out of sight. Wilfrida stood at the doorway 
for several seconds before she admitted that he 
wasn't coming back. She eased the door closed and 
counted off another few decades for all of the orphans of Metamor.

END OF DOMINION OF THE HYACITH

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias