Chương 30: XXX. The Northern Altar

Spring 1, 1378 I held the letter between my fingers. The very edge was curling inwards, and rubbing it between my fingers didn't smoothen it out. There was a small tear forming on that corner too, threatening the rest of Addy's words.

"Give it here," Alex said, reaching across the carriage and extending his gloved hand.

"No?" I pulled the paper away from him, closer to me and the air.

"You're not allowed to read it." He rolled his eyes, Amaril's gaze catching against the stormy-blue.

"I don't care what's on it. You're just annoying me."

"You didn't have to come!" I said, and began to cross my arms. Alex grabbed my wrist before I could finish the motion. The corner of the paper was beginning to twist again. He shook his hand, and took the letter out of my hand.

"Just read a book or something," he said, and turned his head back to stare outside. I pulled out the Lysistrata. The Sex Strike was an interesting concept, but with how many elves there were in the Academy, I doubted it would have worked. And yet, on the corner of the very first page – the parchment was curling!

"Hart, I will throw you out of this carriage if you begin playing with that," Alex said, not turning his head to face me.

"Look, my Ma's sick an' I'm glad ya could get me this carriage ride an' all, and I'm really grateful, but ya didn' have to – ""Hart, you're panicking again. What exactly is flattening out a page going to do for you?"

"Well, Marcellus, it just doesn't look neat! Besides, we've been sittin' here for hours an–""You can walk if that'd ease your tension. In fact," he said, and opened the carriage door. The horses galloped over the dirt path. Rocks impeded the wheels in every rotation, but of course Alex would rather climb the exterior than use the wooden privacy board. The carriage came to an abrupt halt, and he opened the door closest to me.

"Out, Hart."

"Look, I'll stop fussin' – " I said, but he already offered me his hand. Behind him was the gate to Oakheart – when did Oakheart get a gate?! I took his hand and slipped out of the carriage; grabbing my singular backpack with my books and possessions. Alex reached over me to the carriage top, grabbing his own backpack. He nodded at the driver and pulled out a few gold coins.

"Thanks, Michel. Enjoy your time in town, dad will pay you per diem."

"Try The Gryphon!" I called, but the carriage had already rolled along.

"Quaint." Alex looked around the town, and already he was gathering too much attention. He was taller than me, and the Academy suit he wore looked like a king's raiment compared to what that shrew could make.

"Let's go." I turned away from the gate and marched towards my farm. Alex didn't immediately follow. His gaze was at the town, before he shook his head and ran behind me to catch up.

"PENELOPE!" I ran towards the fat old cow. She raised her head from the meadow-grass, chewing without a care. The brown and black spots on her torso were stretched – and Good Flora Above! She had a calf! A calf!

"It's been one minute, Hart," Alex said, and walked past me. The little calf – who I would name Arnaia – was far more pleasant. She mooed happily and accepted my scratches. The fur was so soft that I rubbed my face against it, and her tongue licked me! Alex knocked on the door. The field in front of the house was filled with corn, though they weren't as tall as they used to be. Some of the corn wasn't as bright yellow as I remembered, and there were notable patches within the fields. The door swung open.

"Uh… who are you?" Addy said, staring upwards at Alex.

"Oh, wow, you're as short as she said you were. Alex Marcellus. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skye," Alex said, and extended his gloved hand." She?" Adrian repeated, but took Alex's hand to shake. He peered behind him, and I waved at him. He turned back to Alex and said something, but it was under his breath and I couldn't hear.

"What are ya two talkin' bout?" I said, and Alex shrugged.

"Said he hasn't ever seen you without a stick up your ass, Hart," Alex said, and Adrian tensed.

"I did not! Was just surprised to see you back so soon, Ashy. And huggin' a cow? With a stranger?"

"She's not my type. You, however…" Alex's hand slid underneath Adrian's chin to lift it upwards. He leaned in close – steely-blue eyes meeting Addy's brown, and I both bit my lip and wanted to stop it.

"Uh– Wha?" Addy said, pushing away.

"He's messin' with ya," I said, glaring at Alex.

"I am. But which part is me messing with him, Hart?" Alex said, releasing Adrian's chin, and looking behind him.

"And as fun as this is, weren't you here for something else?" I nodded, but my gaze lingered on the ground. There was coughing coming from inside, and Pa didn't come to greet me. Depending on how much coughing there was, and the balance of yellow bile within her system, she was likely already fargone. I had only finished my second year, and – Warm hands enveloped my waist, and pulled me in. Of course, his head only came up to my breasts, but that wasn't ever a problem before.

I eased into the sensation, sliding my hands against his back. The trapezius was tense, but the deltoids were nice and firm. His biceps easily held me in pace, and his hands grew bolder. Though, I wish that boldness meant something more, and he'd go low–"By Veracity's Oath, I will throw you both inside," Alex interrupted.

"I tell him to grow a pair and hug you, and now you're like two Rhyvesta-Damned larkbirds coming back after the winter."

"Uh… you can' say that," Adrian said, but I wouldn't let his brown eyes break from mine.

"An' besides, it's only been – ""38 seconds on the dot. Also, go lower next time, Skye," Alex said, and again, beckoned towards the door.

"Good Protector, who is he?" Addy said. He didn't release my waist. I didn't want him to either.

"A [Lamplighter]," I said.

"Worst reading club of my life." The house was… well, everything was where it was supposed to be, but it was off-center. Sure, the spices could be hung like that, but it wasn't tightened. The bowls were in their proper place but they were hanging oddly. The table was technically made, but why was the left side hanging lower than the right?

"Ashley!" Pa's voice boomed, and he slowly descended the ladder. It creaked, and Pa was thin. His belly was convex now, and the sockets of his eyes were black. The skin was cracked, suggesting malnourishment – an improper balance of the black humour. Each step was slow and languid, but he still reached me.

"Pa!" I said, and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to squeeze back but he was so… brittle. His skin was warty, and slowly becoming – Do I pull back? But he's Pa. But I'll get sick. But he's Pa. He released me, and his eyes were dark.

"Ya look well, girl. An' ya even brought a man home with ya?" He said, giving a quick glance to Adrian. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Alex stepped up… and peeled off the glove from his hand.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Hart," he said, extending his hand towards him.

"Your daughter talks so much about you, and how she's trying to make you proud." My nose scrunched and I turned to him. I mouthed'What?' but Pa wasn't looking, and Alex never cared in these weird plans of his.

"Ah? Shucks, Ain' much. Who wouldn' be proud of her? Gets a scholarship on her own, and she's even goin' to be [Doctor]!" Pa said. He took Alex's hand and shook. Alex's grip tightened, and he pulled Pa into his chest to a half-hug, patting his back three times.

"Well, she's annoying and reads too much. Also spends too much time in the Gardening Club. You ever think she'd be a good Agronomist?"

"Agro.. what?" Pa said.

"... A really advanced [Farmer]. Isn't that right, Hart?"" Marcellus." I crossed my arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Appearantly speaking out of turn. My apologies." He released Pa, and turned his head out the window. But then the accursed coughing came once again. It bellowed out from the upper floors, before becoming painful wheezes. Pa scratched his arms. He was getting lesions and warts too. Addy didn't. In fact, he looked positively healthy. He was very sanguine, and his eyes were steady and firm. There was also this warm sensation that radiated around him, like summer's touch. It was worth examining, but Ma was upstairs.

There was rubbish and trash everywhere. Rags, discorded and still seeping sanguine and miasmic fluids, littered the floor. There was food out, which was infected with flies. My brown handkerchief was filled with rosemary, lavender, and mint – but even those fragrant, healing herbs didn't prevent the smell. Ma was in bed. Her face was covered in bumps, though the rest was exposed flesh without the cover of skin. Black humour was out of balance, staining the sanguine Ichor.

The spleen was leaking; exhuming bad spirits and negative humor. I still reached towards her. Ma turned towards me, and smiled. She was skinny. Her grip was very, very weak. Her breath smelled awful and pus poured out of the ruptured boils.

"Ma." Her face was cool, and her eyes were glazed over. White humour seeped from the socket.

"They gave me a compassionate leave. Said I could have some time off from my studies. I'm… top of my class. I'm… sorry I didn't write in the last few months. I just had exams, but then Grant knocked on my door and I just…" She raised her hand and stroked my face. She smelled foul, but her touch was so cold. I wanted it to be warmer. And that was granted, as a warm hand grabbed my shoulder.

"Ashley, you're going to get sick," Addy said.

"She needs medicine. Not a chance to get ya sick." I rubbed her hand. My fingers avoided the festering wounds, but it was a [Doctor]'s job to tend to the sick and dying. But I wasn't one yet. I pulled from Ma and went down the ladder. Alex had left the room by now, and so had Pa. At least the hearthfire was on, and there was something cooking. I walked out the door with Addy. Pa had begun digging up the field. There was soil that hadn't been tilled yet, and some of the corn was dehydrated.

Which was weird since Pa tended to overhydrate these Floran Piss crop— It was his business now.

"Hart." Alex leaned on the wall, but his attention was to the road.

"How is she doing?"

"We need medicine. We shouldn't have stepped in that house. The Black Humour is out, her entire system is out of balance, and she's closer to The Plains than I'd like."" [Dragonpox] is a human-disease, Hart. I'll be fine," Alex said.

"And I asked about her, not your pretend doctor routine." Penelope and Arnaia were out in the meadow. The younger calf pranced behind her mother, nuzzling the udders. Penelope was getting old, and it was the natural way of things. Though, the infestation was unnatural, and something that could be cured.

"Not well, Marcellus. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He spat on the ground and wiped his black hair from his face.

"No. I wanted to hear that insane idea you were just thinking about when you were looking at your cow right then."

"Sorry?"

"You stared at your cows and bit your lip, Hart. Last time you did that, we laced the aqueducts with nightshade. Not a sound hypothesis about pesticides working on lowering humour levels, but I respect the crazy."

"There has to be a reason why elves don't get [Dragonpox] and humans do. If I could get some samples of elf humours and human humours, I could probably isolate why the two are so different."

"Yep, there's the crazy." Alex pushed off the wall. His black hair was getting ruined by the wind, combed strands unraveling and becoming a curly mop.

"Do you just want the medicine, Hart? You're already putting yourself through a lot. It's really not that much."

"For you, maybe. But what if yer not 'ere? Are all these people goin' need to hope their little girl can afford an education and meet a rich half-elf to solve their problems?" It didn't stun him like I would have hoped. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

"Hart, is that a yes then? Fantasies and What-If's don't really buy medicine."

"Yes! Please, I would love the medicine! But I don't want your pity, Marcellus. I'm so glad that this is trivial for you. But I don't want your pi–""I want your idea, Hart. I mean, I can say we're friends, but then I'll have to listen to you loudly wonder if I have an ulterior motive like you do with everyone else in school. So, instead, your ideas have some sound basis. And say you do make a medicine that cures any disease. You'd owe me, and that's the only payment I'd accept."

"Fuck you?" I crossed my arms.

"Not interested," Alex said.

"Again, Humans aren't my type. I'm going to outlive you. You're not even taboo. Regardless, do you want the medicine, or do you think you can't pay that back."

"So that your dad can sell it?"

"Probably." I clicked my tongue.

"Fine. We'll discuss better terms later." He rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure. I'm also fascinated by pickles – pickled cucumbers mind you. I'd also accept an anise and rhyvestaflower seed brew."

"... That sounds disgusting and those are both incredibly poisonous." I turned around. Adrian had left the building too. I was beginning to feel warm, and my skin was getting scratchy. He was as perfect as ever. Our eyes caught. To be honest, I wasn't trying to escape.

"You should just ask him to marry you. Kid seems like a lost puppy around you, and he's a [Squire]," Alex said. He slapped my back, an unwelcome entrance to reality.

"Maybe you can [Ascend] together."

"Break another taboo while I'm at it, huh?" I said, returning my gaze. Adrian however moved to help Pa in the fields.

"Because that's better or worse than experimenting with bodies to… cure diseases? Asking the person you like to marry you," Alex said.

"Regardless, Michel should be back soon. I already told him to purchase the medicine. Just enough, you're the doctor, you distribute it. Give the rest to charity if it makes you feel better, rich elf's money. Just remember you owe me…" And then Alex, of all people bit his lip.

"Out with it, Marcellus," I grumbled.

"You should give the farming thing a thought. I've known you since you joined the Academy, and outside of reading your families letters – you've only been happy when you talk about the farm. Again, those poisoned pickle idea that some genius was floating around is just as acceptable as a Panacea," he said, and then watched my eyes. He scanned my face – considering if he should say it.

"I don't think you should become a [Doctor] just because your parents want you to. You'll hate the rest of your life." I spat on the ground.

"Ma didn' raise no Quitter, Marcellus. I don' get that privilege to waste the opportunity they got for me." The hearthfire returned red, and I was back in the gloom of my kitchen. Ma's brown eyes were the only thing in the darkness, and even Rhyvesta's Gaze coming in from the windows bent around her form.

"I… are you alive? I thought you said there was nothing I could have done?"

"Do not dare call thine Mother a liar, my Sweetest Daughter. Thine question was exact," She said.' Should I have been a doctor, Ma?' The howling wind was a record of my words, branches and creaks making sound. I looked at the bowl.

"No… I meant, would she have been proud of me?" The wind continued to howl, and the steam after from the bowl. Ma tapped the table, and I could feel her stare drill into me.

"... No?" I offered.

"Thine Mother had said she was proud, and so had Dead Father. This very night, in fact. Thou had asketh if thou should be a doctor – not if thine mother would be alive. She too is my daughter, and it is not a cruelty for her to return to me. But thou did not save her, thou accepted obligation."" -- But she was alive," I said, and slammed my firsts on the table. The world went empty. She shook her head, resting her gaze upon my trembling fists.

Rhyvesta waved her hand over the table, wind restoring and crickets chirping again. Even Rhyvesta's Gaze illuminated beautifully out the window. In front of was now a tea kettle and two pale white teacups. She poured herself a cup first, then me. The tea was dark black, and the fragrant scent of pommegranates wafted out.

"And? Death is just one part of the cycle. If thou wants thine mother back, thine has the path and answer. Solve the Great Riddle. But if thou wants to know about being a [Doctor], thou would have to be burdened by obligation. That path is not available, thou detest obligation." She waved at the tea.

"So… what do I do now?" I raised it to my lips, blowing gently. It was very sweet.

"A [Necromancer], is meant to lead, guide, and study Death. They are my will in the Cycle, and it is what I would pick of thou, my Sweetest Daughter. Thou isn't as… charismatic… as some of thine siblings to be a [Messenger], and thine [Harvester] callings tend to be in pursuit of tending. All Three will be open to thee, my dear. However, the [Ascension] may only happen on the Spirit Break, on a Northern Altar. Sleep well, for tomorrow, thou are to be tasked." The tea did taste like pomegranates.

It was the last thing I thought as I crashed on the table.