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<blockquote data-quote="Delemental" data-source="post: 2892554" data-attributes="member: 5203"><p><strong>Promises to Keep</strong></p><p></p><p>Promises to Keep is the second player-written piece of fiction to follow "Price of Victory", written by yours truly.</p><p></p><p>Those who read some of the other popular Story Hours here in addition to mine (and you really should - there's a lot of them far better than mine) will note that I've blatantly ripped off some names for this piece, notably from Sepulchrave and Piratecat. I should probably mutter some platitude here about sincerest form of flattery and all that. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p><p></p><p>--------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p> People were giving Kyle funny looks as he walked into the Uncut Emerald in Laeshir. Most likely because he had suddenly appeared in the middle of the street not three seconds ago. Kyle crossed the common room and approached a rotund dwarf with graying hair and beard.</p><p></p><p> “Good afternoon, Burbark Hammerhand,” Kyle said. “I was wondering if you have any rooms for the night.”</p><p></p><p> “Ayup,” said the portly dwarf, scratching his beard. “With or without bath?”</p><p></p><p> “Without,” Kyle said.</p><p></p><p> “I got three you can pick from,” Burbark said. “The suite, that’s two gold. Two separate chambers, has its own privy too. The second room’s six silver, single room, shared privy down the hall. Or you can have the Stinker for four silver.”</p><p></p><p> “The Stinker?” Kyle asked.</p><p></p><p> “Room’s a little larger than most of my single rooms. But a couple of years back, some wizard rented it out for a couple months and used it as an alchemy lab. Never have been able to get the smell out since. Annoying, but not unbearable.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle suppressed a smile. “How unfortunate. I think the suite will be fine.” Kyle reached out and handed a platinum coin to Burbark. “I’d like my meals brought up tonight and in the morning,” he said. “And a pitcher of wine. The rest…” Kyle was interrupted by a spasm of coughing.</p><p></p><p> “Everything all right, sir?” Burbark asked.</p><p></p><p> “Fine,” Kyle said, getting the cough under control. “Getting used to the altitude, that’s all. I was going to sat that the rest of that is for you and your staff.”</p><p></p><p> “Thank you, sir,” Burbark said, pocketing the coin. “Anything else?”</p><p></p><p> “Just see that I’m not disturbed. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, Burbark. Now, I need to go meet someone; I’ll be back in an hour or so.”</p><p></p><p> “Sure thing, sir,” Burbark said. Kyle turned and made his way to the door.</p><p></p><p> “Hey!” Burbark called out, “how’d you know my name, anyway? We ever met before?”</p><p></p><p> “Some friends of mine stayed here once, a while ago.”</p><p></p><p> “Ah. Well then, good afternoon to you, sir!”</p><p></p><p> Kyle left the Uncut Emerald and proceeded to the underground portion of the city. He paused briefly outside an abandoned old house, looking at two weathered statues of lions at the front gates, before continuing on down the road. He stopped at a more modest home, and knocked on the door. A liveried dwarf answered the door.</p><p></p><p> “Kyle Goodson to see Myndrila Feyborn,” Kyle said.</p><p></p><p> The dwarf nodded. “This way.”</p><p></p><p> The servant led him into a drawing room, where a fire blazed. There was a window in the far wall, no doubt enchanted, as it appeared to look out on a sunny green meadow. The dwarf offered Kyle a seat, and a glass of wine before departing. A few minutes later, the doors opened again, and a woman walked through. It was difficult to say whether she was young or old; her face had a timeless quality to it. She appeared elven at first due to her pointed ears, but she lacked the almond shaped eyes of that race; hers were large, round, and sparkling. She moved gracefully to a chair opposite Kyle and sat down.</p><p></p><p> “Welcome to my home, Wizard Goodson,” she said in a light, melodic voice.</p><p></p><p> “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Wizardess Feyborn.”</p><p></p><p> The woman smiled. “Please, can we move on to ‘Kyle’ and ‘Myndrila’?”</p><p></p><p> “Of course, Myndrila. So, how’s retirement?”</p><p></p><p> “Boring,” she said. “But that’s the problem with having a grandmother who’s a nymph. Everything gets boring far too quickly. I honestly don’t know how full-blooded fey stand it.”</p><p></p><p> “Sorry to hear that,” Kyle said.</p><p></p><p> “Oh, it’s not that bad, Kyle. It keeps me motivated, from getting complacent.” She poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter nearby. “So, have you spoken to Professor Vorsha lately? Let her know how her little prodigy is doing?”</p><p></p><p> “Not for a while,” Kyle admitted. “I’ve been… busy.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Kyle. It’s expected, really. The way most wizards lead their lives, it’s sometimes years before we get around to personal correspondence, unless we want something.” She set down her glass. “Speaking of which…”</p><p></p><p> “No sense beating about the bush, is there?” Kyle said, grinning.</p><p></p><p> “Getting contacted by one of my former students at the Tower out of the blue, requesting a meeting at my home? It’s usually only one of two things.” She leveled a gaze at Kyle. “Please tell me that you’re not here in the hopes of playing out some sort of ‘teacher-student seduction’ fantasy.”</p><p></p><p> “No!” Kyle exclaimed, turning a little red.</p><p></p><p> “Thank Erito for that. It happens far too often, you understand. The nymph blood, and all.” Myndrila paused, and looked at Kyle. “Although, I must say you present yourself far better these days than you did at the Tower…” she looked at him for another moment, then shook her head as if clearing it. “Well, you’re not here for that. Which means you want something I own. What is it?”</p><p></p><p> “Jovol’s Codex,” Kyle answered.</p><p></p><p> Myndrila laughed for a moment, sweetly and lightly. “No.”</p><p></p><p> “But you own three copies of the Codex,” Kyle said. “I rebuilt the shelves in your office, remember?”</p><p></p><p> “And I obtained each of those copies at great personal expense,” Myndrila said. “There are only four in existence, each enchanted to resist transcription. And don’t bother looking for the fourth – its owner is even more intractable than I am.”</p><p></p><p> “You haven’t even heard my offer, Myndrila,” Kyle said.</p><p></p><p> “I doubt you could have anything I’m interested in. You’re an adventurer, not a researcher. I’m sure you’ve come across a lot in your travels, but most adventurers tend to collect more… mundane enchantments. Any books they find tend to end up as kindling.”</p><p></p><p> “Myndrila…” Kyle scolded.</p><p></p><p> She held up her hands in a pacifying gesture. “All right, all right, an unfair generalization, I’ll admit.” She sighed. “Very well. Make your offer, Kyle. Don’t get your hopes up on the Codex, but if what you have piques my interest, perhaps I might consider trading some lesser items.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle reached into his magical belt and extracted a large tome, bound in the skin of some unidentifiable creature. He set the tome on his lap, flipped it open, and searched for a few moments before passing the book to Myndrila. With a bored expression, she glanced down at the page. Then she squinted, and looked harder, following a line with her finger. She turned the page, and scanned the contents of that as well.</p><p></p><p> When she looked up, her expression was no longer bored.</p><p></p><p> “I’d expected you to open with some lesser trinket, and we’d negotiate up from there.”</p><p></p><p> “I don’t enjoy haggling.”</p><p></p><p> “Who wrote this?”</p><p></p><p> “The necromancer and master alchemist Neville.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila shook her head. “Neville was killed by the church of Tor years ago, and his possessions destroyed.”</p><p></p><p> “He survived, thanks in large part to the information you have in front of you now. My friends and I made his second exit from the world more permanent.” Kyle smiled. “I was sure to pull that book out of the kindling pile.”</p><p></p><p> “He certainly seems to have invested a lot of time into this,” Myndrila said, turning another page.</p><p></p><p> “I’m no expert, but near as I can tell he’s come closer than anyone else. It would only take a few more years of research, I think.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila looked at the book a little longer before turning her sparkling eyes on Kyle. “This is dangerous knowledge, you know. Neville was a foul monster. The fact that you even own this book would get you censured by the church of Erito.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle shrugged. “I’m not terribly concerned what Erito thinks of me these days,” he replied.</p><p></p><p> Myndrila looked as though she was about to say something else, but chose not to. “Still, in the wrong hands, these formulas…”</p><p></p><p> “But I’m not putting them in the wrong hands, am I?” Another bout of coughing interrupted him. Myndrila sat quietly until it subsided.</p><p></p><p> “You do realize,” Mydrila said, slowly closing the book, “that my interests are neither in necromancy nor alchemy.”</p><p></p><p> “No, they aren’t. But Professor Imbrindarl’s interests are.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila’s eyebrows arched, but she said nothing.</p><p></p><p> “As I recall from that day when I was assigned to rebuild your shelves – the day I noticed you have three copies of a particular book – you were in your office lamenting to Professor Vax about how you’d been trying to obtain a certain item from Professor Imbrindarl; an orrery with unique properties. I remember you mentioning your frustration that the orrery was nearly useless to him, but extremely valuable to you. You cursed him quite elegantly for his ‘sentimental attachments’.”</p><p></p><p> “You heard all that?” Myndrila asked.</p><p></p><p> Kyle smiled. “Professor Feyborn, you are by no means the only instructor at the Tower who assumed that because I was just a laborer that I didn’t have ears to hear what was said or a mind to understand it.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila scowled. “Damn you, Vorsha.” She picked up her neglected wine glass and drained it. “So, why not take this book to Imbrindarl and trade for the orrery yourself?”</p><p></p><p> “Because it’s not the orrery I want, and my time is limited. I figured I’d give you the pleasure of negotiating with him.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila sat for a while, looking down at the book, then up at Kyle, then at the book again. She uncrossed and uncrossed her legs, and then started tapping her finger against the table next to her chair.</p><p></p><p> “I have a number of items that might interest you,” she said at last. “Perhaps a ring that will…”</p><p></p><p> Kyle shook his head. “The Codex.”</p><p></p><p> “I’ve researched a number of unique spells, you know. Very useful for your line of…”</p><p></p><p> Again, Kyle shook his head.</p><p></p><p> Sighing heavily, Myndrila stood up. She retrieved a tiny chest from a pocket, and spoke a few words. Instantly, a large, ornate chest appeared in the room between Myndrila and Kyle. After deactivating several wards, Myndrila opened the chest and pulled out a large tome, twice as large as the one Kyle had given her. Its cover was made of a strange, shimmering metal that seemed to amplify the light reflecting off it. Slowly, she handed the tome to Kyle.</p><p></p><p> “You have no idea how much this hurts,” Myndrila said.</p><p></p><p> Kyle smiled. “I’m sure the orrery will look lovely in your study.”</p><p></p><p> “It had better.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle stood up, placing his copy of Jovol’s Codex in his belt. He then took the hand that Myndrila offered, and kissed the back of it. “I’m eternally grateful, Professor Feyborn.”</p><p></p><p> “Your manners have improved,” she commented. “You’ve been getting lessons?”</p><p></p><p> “Every day,” he grinned. “From an excellent teacher.”</p><p></p><p> “Would you care to stay? I have a guest room you could use.”</p><p></p><p> “Thanks for the offer, but I have a room in town, and I’ll need to leave early tomorrow. I’ve already imposed on your hospitality enough. Perhaps the next time I’m in Laeshir?”</p><p></p><p> “I doubt I’ll be living her much longer, honestly,” Myndrila said. “The boredom, and all.”</p><p></p><p> “Well, then, I guess it’s until we meet again. Good evening to you, Myndrila Feyborn.”</p><p></p><p> “And to you, Kyle Goodson. My servant can show you out.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle was only a few steps from the door when Myndrila spoke. “I’m curious, Kyle. Why such an intense interest in planar and planetary metaphysics? Jovol’s Codex isn’t exactly introductory reading, and I’d had you figured as an artificer.”</p><p></p><p> “My interests have evolved,” he said, “and there’s a rather important project I have in mind. If I had the time, I’d tell you more, and probably ask for your help. As it stands, I have to hope Jovol here will give me what I need.”</p><p></p><p> “Well, let me know how it goes, if you get the chance.”</p><p></p><p> “Trust me,” Kyle said, “if it works, you’ll know about it.”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p> “Gotcha!”</p><p></p><p> Hulli squealed and fell over, rolling around in the dirt. Standing above him, Johan laughed out loud.</p><p></p><p> “Get up,” he said, offering a hand.</p><p></p><p> Hulli pulled himself up, and brushed dirt off his clothes. “I slipped,” he said defensively.</p><p></p><p> Johan laughed again. “Some dwarf you are. Come on, then, say it.”</p><p></p><p> “Do I have to?” Hulli whined.</p><p></p><p> “You’re the one who wanted to play ‘Goblin in the Gully’,” Johan said. “No fair backing out now just because you got caught.”</p><p></p><p> Hulli pouted, but nodded all the same. It was hard to argue with Johan; of all the children in Lisk, he had earned the most Honor Stones. His seven stones hung from the leather cord around his neck, proudly displayed. In only a few more years, his beard would start to come in, and soon after that he’d be breaking his cord and becoming an adult.</p><p></p><p> “Quit stalling, hin-breath,” Johan said, reminding Hulli that that day had not yet arrived.</p><p></p><p> Hulli grit his teeth, and then in a loud voice began to sing.</p><p></p><p> <em> “I’m a greasy goblin,</em></p><p><em> With not much in my head!</em></p><p><em> I’ve got worms in my ale,</em></p><p><em> And fleas in my bed!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em> This noble dwarf has caught me,</em></p><p><em> So now I must obey!</em></p><p><em> I must do what he asks of me,</em></p><p><em> Or he’ll chase me away!”</em></p><p></p><p> After he finished reciting the rhyme, Hulli looked at Johan. “Al right, what are you going to make me do?”</p><p></p><p> Johan thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. “You have to go give Belga Copperthumbs a kiss. On the mouth.”</p><p></p><p> “What? Eww! No way!”</p><p></p><p> Johan looked sternly at Hulli. “Would you rather be exiled, then?”</p><p></p><p> Hulli scowled and pouted. Now he was in a bind. The rules for Goblin in the Gully were clear; if caught, he had to either perform one task, or he would be ‘exiled’, which in the context of the game meant that none of his friends would speak to him or play with him for a week. At the thought of kissing a girl, though, Hulli started to wonder if exile was really that bad.</p><p></p><p> “Come on, what’s taking so long?”</p><p></p><p> “I’m thinking!”</p><p></p><p> “Oh, come on, how hard can it be? Everyone knows you want to kiss Belga anyway.”</p><p></p><p> “I do not!”</p><p></p><p> “Do too!”</p><p></p><p> “Do not!”</p><p></p><p> Grinning, Johan stepped back and began to chant. “Belga and Hulli, sitting in the dirt! He’s trying to look up her skirt!”</p><p></p><p> “Shut up!” Hulli reached down and picked up a rock, and threw it at Johan. It bounced off his head.</p><p></p><p> “Ow!” he said, rubbing his head. “You’re gonna get it now!”</p><p></p><p> Hulli turned and began running up the hill, followed by Johan. Though Johan was older by a half-year, both boys were roughly equal size, so Hulli managed to keep ahead of his friend. Near the top of the hill, Hulli jumped over a low fence, Johan right on his heels. The younger boy heard a scrabbling in the dirt as his friend snatched up a loose stone. Hulli kept running; Johan may have been older, but he wasn’t as good at throwing stones. He knew that he wouldn’t try a throw while running, which meant he could get to where he was going safely.</p><p></p><p> Cresting the hill, Hulli half ran, half slid to his destination. Just beyond the top was the town’s cemetery, littered with squat stone markers engraved with runes detailing the memory of Lisk’s former residents. Hulli ran past several markers, weaving back and forth, until he came to a halt. Behind him, he heard Johan slow down, and then stop, panting heavily.</p><p></p><p> Hulli stood amidst a crowd of several statues of dwarven men and women. The statues wore mining clothes, and some held pickaxes and shovels. Others looked as though they were running; one was sprawled on the ground, his hand held up in front of his face as if to ward something off. All of them wore expressions of surprise and fear.</p><p></p><p> “No fair!” Johan shouted at him. Hulli stuck his tongue out in response.</p><p></p><p> Red-faced, Johan pitched the rock he carried at Hulli. The throw went wide, and the stone struck one of the statues on the head. Small chips of stone fell onto the ground.</p><p></p><p> Hulli looked wide-eyed at the statue, then at Johan. “You hit my Dad!” he shouted.</p><p></p><p> “You made me throw it! You shouldn’t have run in there! When I tell everyone, you’re going to have to kiss Belga <em>and </em>get exiled!”</p><p></p><p> “Won’t be near as bad as what they do to you when they find out you threw a rock at one of the Lost!” Hulli yelled back. “They’ll probably take away your Honor Stones!”</p><p></p><p> “You little…” the rest of Johan’s curse was lost, as he rushed at Hulli and tackled him. The two dwarven boys wrestled around on the ground, punching and kicking each other. They rolled over as Hulli tried to throw Johan off, and the two boys slammed into the feet of another statue. The stone figure towering over them began to wobble, and then fall toward the two boys, who were too startled to move. They squeezed their eyes shut before the bone-crushing weight of the statue dropped on them.</p><p></p><p> It took them a while to realize that the bone crushing hadn’t occurred.</p><p></p><p> Slowly, each of them opened one eye. The statue still loomed over them, leaning over their heads at an angle that should have been impossible. But it hung motionless in mid-topple.</p><p></p><p> “You boys should be more careful,” said a strange voice in the Common tongue.</p><p></p><p> Both boys turned their heads to see who had spoken. Standing a short distance away was a tall human, of average build (it would be many years later before either of the boys realized that he was actually rather large and stocky for a human; they were used to dwarves, and so to their young eyes he looked merely average). He had black hair that was long and straight, pulled back with a silver ring. He wore long robes that were midnight blue, and in one hand he held a staff made of some strange silvery wood, with a crystal sphere on top that flashed and sparkled with many different colors. His other hand was pointed at the dwarven boys and the statue. He looked a little pale, and the hand that was pointing out trembled very slightly.</p><p></p><p> “If you don’t mind,” the human said, this time speaking in Dwarven, “I’d appreciate it if you would move.”</p><p></p><p> Both boys looked at each other, and then quickly released their grip on each other’s tunics and scrambled out of the way. Once they were clear, the human wiggled his finger a little, and the statue picked itself up and righted itself.</p><p></p><p> “Magic,” Johan whispered to Hulli.</p><p></p><p> “No kidding, goblin-brains,” Hulli whispered back.</p><p></p><p> The human looked at them, and smiled. “You’re welcome, by the way.”</p><p></p><p> Johan and Hulli looked at each other sheepishly. “Thanks,” they said in unison.</p><p></p><p> Meanwhile, the human in the robes had begun looking around at the statues, poking at them and shaking his head. “They left them outside,” he said to himself, muttering in Common again. “How careless. I thought dwarves would know better.”</p><p></p><p> Hulli and Johan exchanged looks again, uncertain of what to do. On the one hand, the human was a stranger, and speaking to strangers without an adult was forbidden. At the same time, he had just saved their lives, which automatically demanded respect. Plus, he was new and different, and therefore interesting.</p><p></p><p> “You’re not supposed to touch those!” Hulli shouted, as the human bent over and picked up a chunk of stone ear that had fallen off one of the statues.</p><p></p><p> “Really? Why not?”</p><p></p><p> “Because they’re the honored dead! They’re the Lost Miners!”</p><p></p><p> “Dead? Who said they were dead?”</p><p></p><p> “Everybody,” Johan answered. “They were killed two years ago by a stonebreather. The town moved them out to the cemetery to honor them.”</p><p></p><p> “And they were blocking the mine,” Hulli added, for which he received an elbow in the ribs.</p><p></p><p> “Really? What happened to the stonebreather?” the human asked.</p><p></p><p> “Some adventurers came in and killed it,” Johan said. “but in the fight two of them were turned to stone. Ardara had sent some magical ointment to Brother Durkoth to help bring back our people, but because these adventurers had fought on our behalf, we were honor bound to restore them first.”</p><p></p><p> “I see,” said the human. “Very noble of you.” He suddenly doubled over, wracked with a fit of coughing. Greenish phlegm sprayed onto the ground. When he stood, both boys noticed that a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead.</p><p></p><p> “Are you sick?” Hulli asked.</p><p></p><p> “Just a little,” the man croaked. He wiped his forehead with a sleeve. “It’s hot today.”</p><p></p><p> The two boys looked at each other. It wasn’t even early spring yet, and they were in the mountains. It was anything but hot.</p><p></p><p> “So,” said the human, “did Ardara ever send any more ointment?”</p><p></p><p> “No, she didn’t,” Hulli said. “Brother Durkoth told us that the church didn’t have any more. It was after that they moved the statues here.”</p><p></p><p> “Well then, it seems like those adventurers you talked about didn’t really finish the job, did they?”</p><p></p><p> Both boys looked a little uncomfortable. “It’s not honorable to speak ill of those who have done a service for you,” Hulli said.</p><p></p><p> “Spoken like a true dwarf,” the human said. “But how do you really feel?” He walked over and rested a hand on one of the statues. “I think I heard one of you say this was your father?”</p><p></p><p> “Yes, sir, he’s mine,” Hulli said.</p><p></p><p> “You miss him, don’t you?”</p><p></p><p> “Yes, sir.”</p><p></p><p> “Of course you do. No one should have to lose a father.” The human looked very sad for a moment before he continued. “You don’t think it’s very fair that those adventurers got to live and your father didn’t, do you?”</p><p></p><p> For a while, Hulli said nothing. Then, slowly, he shook his head.</p><p></p><p> The human smiled, and nodded. “You know something? I think you’re right.”</p><p></p><p> He looked down at the statue of Hulli’s father, and spoke a few strange words neither of the boys could understand. The hand atop the statue began to glow slightly. Instantly, the little cracks and chips in the stone began to fill in. Johan watched as the dent he’d made earlier with his stone filled in.</p><p></p><p> “That’s better,” the man said, as the glow on his hand faded. “May as well make sure all the pieces are there before I start.”</p><p></p><p> “Um, sir?” Johan asked timidly. “Start what?”</p><p></p><p> “This.” The man spoke a few more of the strange words, more than he’d spoken before. As he spoke, he reached down and picked up a pinch of loose soil, and then with a tiny knife he pulled out of his belt, made a shallow cut on his finger. He let the blood and dirt mix together, and then smeared in on the top of the statue’s head. He stopped speaking as soon as the reddish mud touched the stone.</p><p></p><p> As the two young boys watched, the reddish tint in the glob of dirt slowly began to spread downward into the stone. The smooth, uniform gray was replaced by browns and pinks, and hard unyielding rock vanished in favor of warm flesh and soft fabric. In the blink of an eye, instead of a statue, there was a real, live dwarf standing before them. As if to prove the point, the dwarf suddenly inhaled sharply, then stumbled backward, dropping the shovel he’d been holding.</p><p></p><p> “What… where…” the dwarf sputtered, looking around wildly. “How did I… I was in the mine… I saw…” He looked up at the human, who was standing above him smiling, and then looked over at the two young boys nearby.</p><p></p><p> “Hulli?” the dwarf asked.</p><p></p><p> Johan fainted.</p><p></p><p> “Dad!” Hulli shouted, as he ran up and leapt into his father’s arms. “Dad! I can’t believe you’re alive!”</p><p></p><p> “Alive?” he said, returning the embrace. “What are you talking about? I was just at work, and there was…” he looked around suddenly. “Why am I outside? In the cemetery?” He looked at Hulli. “And you’re taller than you were when I left.” He hooked a finger around the leather cord on Hulli’s neck. “Five Stones? You only had three this morning when I left for the mine, and…” then he looked up into the sky. “But it’s morning now. How can that…” Finally, he looked up at the human. “What’s going on here?”</p><p></p><p> “It’s a little hard to explain, at least not before a few ales. Let’s go back to town, and I’ll tell you. I’m pretty sure everyone there will be very excited to see you. You bring your son, and I’ll get the other boy.”</p><p></p><p> The dwarven miner slowly stood, as Hulli clung tightly to him, sobbing with joy. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked.</p><p></p><p> “My name’s Kyle Goodson,” the human said. “I’m here to finish a job I started two years ago.”</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p> It took Kyle three more days to restore all of the Lost Miners; after all, it was a difficult spell. His work was hampered by his steadily worsening illness. By the third day he was pale and trembling, having bouts of fever and chills, and his body ached everywhere. Brother Durkoth, the Ardaran priest that served the town, was away on a trip to Laeshir to buy supplies for the town, and wasn’t expected back for another week or two at least. Kyle refused all demands by the town’s women that he rest, saying that it was nothing serious and he’d be fine (though he knew this was a lie; what he truly feared was that if he didn’t get finished restoring the miners quickly, he’d become too ill to keep going). Instead, he smiled at them and shooed them away, judiciously hiding the mucus-filled rags that were now starting to show spots of blood.</p><p></p><p> Finally, on the afternoon of the fourth day, Kyle said his farewells to the people of Lisk. The mayor presented him with an honorary copper plaque, and promises of food and shelter whenever he and the other members of the Legacy might return. Kyle mostly smiled and said little during the proceedings, mostly because he was sucking on a chunk of camphor root to control his coughing, and because everyone around him was spinning a little too much for him to focus on them.</p><p></p><p> At the end of the ceremony, he was presented with a rather odd-looking copper mug, with two openings. Tulli, the dwarven miner who’d been the first one Kyle had saved, presented it.</p><p></p><p> “What is it?” Kyle asked, not sure if he was simply too delirious to understand its function.</p><p></p><p> “A dwarven wedding flagon,” Tulli said. “You told us that you’re getting married soon, right? On your wedding night, in the bedchamber, you fill it with your finest spirits, and you and your mate have to drink the whole thing to have a happy marriage.”</p><p></p><p> “Maybe I’m not understanding something here,” Kyle croaked. “From the looks of this thing, it seems like most of the ale would just dump out all over each other.”</p><p></p><p> “Of course it will, lad! That’s why you wait until you’re in the bedroom! You don’t drink all the ale out of the mug!” There was a chorus of loud laughter from everyone in the crowd. Tulli nudged Kyle with an elbow. “Can’t have a happy marriage without a happy beginning, eh?” Then he leaned in and whispered to Kyle. “Truth be told, I recommend one of those fruity spirits the gnomes favor. Less of a kick, but a sweeter finish, if you catch my meaning.”</p><p></p><p> “Tulli,” Kyle said, “I think even the dimmest goblin in the deepest cave in Aelfenn could catch your meaning.”</p><p></p><p> Once he’d put away his wedding flagon, Kyle gestured for everyone to step back, even though there was no real risk to the dwarves from a simple <em>teleport </em>spell.</p><p></p><p> “Just another few seconds,” he muttered to himself, “and I’ll be back in Vargas, where I can go straight to bed and get chewed out by Autumn for letting myself get this sick.”</p><p></p><p> He spoke the words to the spell, and vanished.</p><p></p><p> At first, Kyle thought he’d done something wrong. He was surrounded by darkness, and couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. There was a foul odor in the air, and a strange echoing all around him..</p><p></p><p> “Damn,” he said to himself, “must have landed in the wine cellar.” He reached into his belt, and produced one of his light globes, willing it to a dim glow as he held it aloft.</p><p></p><p> The light revealed that he was in an enormous cavern, stalactites hanging from the ceiling above. The cave was roughly oval, perhaps five hundred feet long and three-quarters that distance in width. Of more pressing concern, however, were the hundreds of lean, snarling goblins that surrounded Kyle.</p><p></p><p> “Oh, crap.”</p><p></p><p> The air was filled with the sound of several dozen weapons being drawn. Kyle immediately willed his light globe to full strength, causing the goblins nearest him to shriek and cover their eyes.</p><p></p><p> <em>More space,</em> he thought, <em>I need more space.</em></p><p></p><p> He cast a spell, and a globe of electrical force erupted all around him. By sheer force of will, he tried to bend the sphere’s energies to leave a safe pocket for himself, but his spinning head caused him to misjudge, and he winced as a jolt of lightning went up his arm. More importantly, however, several goblins fell all around him, dead and smoking. Their allies simply started stepping over the bodies.</p><p></p><p> Kyle began casting again, this time to envelop himself in a <em>resilient sphere</em> so he would have time to think of a plan. But as he was about to finish the spell, he was hit with another spasm of coughing, and he felt the spell slipping out of its valence, the energy wasted.</p><p></p><p> A goblin leapt at him, and he was forced to bat it aside with his staff, knocking it to the floor. He quickly uttered another spell as more charged in, throwing them away with a burst of telekinetic force. Then, spying a small plateau a short distance away, he cast again, and an instant later appeared on top of the plateau. The sides were steep and smooth, which helped slow down the horde. Kyle took a moment to blast the two goblins already on top of the plateau with <em>magic missiles</em> from his wand, then looked around again for an exit.</p><p></p><p> Pain shot up his leg as an arrow stuck into his calf. Wincing, Kyle called up the words for a spell to protect himself from missiles, but a sudden wave of nausea caused him to lose focus, and that spell faded from his mind as well. Cursing, Kyle put up what defensive spells he had left. Several more arrows were flying his direction now, and though most were wide of the mark, simple random chance said that wouldn’t go on forever. And the goblins below were making slow but steady progress on climbing up the walls of the plateau.</p><p></p><p> “Damn,” Kyle said, with a sigh. “Looks like Autumn won’t get a chance to say ‘I told you so’.”</p><p></p><p> “Then I’ll have to say it for her,” a voice above him said.</p><p></p><p> The perimeter of the plateau was suddenly ringed with fire, scorching the goblins who were just reaching the top. Flying down from the top of the cavern came a familiar face.</p><p></p><p> “Myndrila?” Kyle gasped.</p><p></p><p> “Of course,” she said, landing next to Kyle. “You didn’t really think I’d let you walk out of my home with one of my most treasured possessions without keeping an eye on you for a few days, do you?” She punctuated her question by gesturing and sending a fireball into the midst of some of the goblin archers.</p><p></p><p> “I guess I hadn’t thought about it,” Kyle admitted, coughing.</p><p></p><p> “Really, Kyle, a wizard in an adventuring group of your notoriety should really be giving more thought to anti-divinatory magic. What if I’d been an enemy instead of an ally?”</p><p></p><p> “Then I wouldn’t be much worse off than I am now, would I?” He pointed and blasted some of the goblins with concussive force, ripping them to pieces.</p><p></p><p> “I suppose not.” Myndrila handed Kyle three vials. “The pink one will cure the disease, the two blue ones should repair the damage it’s caused.” She shook her head even as she cast another spell. A multicolored vortex opened up in the cavern, and dozens of shrieking goblins were sucked up into it. “Really, Kyle. Running around all over eastern Aelfenn with a case of filth fever? You’re as stubborn as you were in school.”</p><p></p><p> “Well, it’s not like I knew I had filth fever when I left,” Kyle said, drinking the pink potion. “By the way, what was that spell?”</p><p></p><p> “Reality maelstrom,” she replied. “Opens an unstable portal to a random extra-planetary location.”</p><p></p><p> “Impressive,” Kyle said. “Maybe I should have traded spells with you after all.” He quaffed the two blue potions, tossing the vials aside. He felt his head clearing up as the filth fever was eradicated.</p><p></p><p> “That spell is beyond your abilities, I’m afraid. Another time, perhaps?” Myndrila gestured, and a large earth elemental sprung out of the ground and began pulverizing goblins left and right. “Right now, we should discuss what you owe me for saving your life and getting you out of here.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle groaned, even as he felt his strength returning. “Please don’t ask me to give you back the Codex,” he said.</p><p></p><p> “No, no, a deal’s a deal. The Codex is yours. What I want to know is what you’re doing with it.”</p><p></p><p> “I told you what I’m doing.”</p><p></p><p> “No, you hinted at it in vague terms. I want details.”</p><p></p><p> “What, now?”</p><p></p><p> “Do you have something better to do?” Myndrila asked sweetly.</p><p></p><p> “Actually, yes!” Kyle said, pointing and hitting a few goblin archers with magic missiles.</p><p></p><p> “Oh, the goblins? Well, if that’s a distraction…” Myndrila cast another spell, and suddenly she and Kyle were surrounded in an impenetrable globe. Outside the sphere, goblins were rushing up and pounding on the sides to no avail.</p><p></p><p> “Now,” Myndrila said, turning to Kyle with her arms crossed. “The details, if you please?”</p><p></p><p> Kyle sighed. “I have to warn you ahead of time,” he said, “there are certain elements that I <em>can’t </em>share, but I think I can give you the idea without them.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila nodded. “Very well, then, Kyle. Do your best.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle told Mydrila what he was planning.</p><p></p><p> “You’re insane,” was the first thing she said.</p><p></p><p> “No, just desperate and willing to take a risk,” he said.</p><p></p><p> “Same thing. You do realize that such an act would defy some of the basic metaphysical principles on which our reality is founded, don’t you? I doubt the gods will just look the other way.”</p><p></p><p> “Actually, I eventually hope to get their approval. If I don’t, well, it’ll just take a bit longer to set up some security.”</p><p></p><p> “They’ll decide the Shadow Plane’s too good for you,” Myndrila said. “They’ll create a whole new race of beings to torment you for eternity, because they’ll be afraid the devils would go too easy on you.”</p><p></p><p> “Your vote of confidence is overwhelming,” Kyle said irritably.</p><p></p><p> “Well, be reasonable! Besides, it’s probably impossible.”</p><p></p><p> “That’s why I need the Codex – to find out if it’s impossible or not, and how to do it if it’s not impossible.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila shook her head. “I should do you a favor and disintegrate you right now.”</p><p></p><p> “You could,” Kyle said, “but then you’d have a bunch of very upset adventurers to deal with. Autumn can be rather intractable when she’s mad.” Kyle flashed an odd smile at Myndrila. “Besides, I think deep down you’re intrigued by the idea.”</p><p></p><p> “On a purely theoretical level, nothing more,” she insisted.</p><p></p><p> “Well, I’d certainly be willing to share my notes and calculations with you, in exchange for some expert advice… on a purely theoretical level, of course.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila stood quietly for a moment, thinking. “I’m going to end up in the Shadow for this,” she said at last. “All right.”</p><p></p><p> “Thank you, Myndrila,” Kyle said.</p><p></p><p> “But if you start to get into trouble for what you’re doing, leave my name out of it. Otherwise I’ll tell your wife that we’ve been having a torrid love affair this whole time.”</p><p></p><p> “You wouldn’t,” Kyle said.</p><p></p><p> “It’s either that or tell her we’ve been engaging in cosmic-scale blasphemy by attempting to change the universe to our whims,” she said.</p><p></p><p> “I’m not sure which she’d take worse.”</p><p></p><p> Myndrila smiled. “Then we have an understanding. Now, shall we get out of here? The smell is horrendous.”</p><p></p><p> “Absolutely,” Kyle agreed.</p><p></p><p> “Do you have any teleports left?”</p><p></p><p> “None,” he admitted. Myndrila shook her head reproachfully.</p><p></p><p> “I suppose you want a lift home?”</p><p></p><p> “Back to Laeshir would be fine, Myndrila. I can get myself to Vargas tomorrow morning.”</p><p></p><p> “Very well, but this time you’ll stay as my guest. I can give you some pointers on deciphering Jovol’s work.”</p><p></p><p> “Thanks again,” Kyle said. He noticed that the force walls of the sphere were starting to waver a bit. “Shall we?”</p><p></p><p> “Yes,” she said, and a moment later they were gone.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p> It was late the next day before Kyle arrived back in Vargas; he chose to <em>shadow walk</em> back, being less confident about his ability to target a teleport into a place he’d only lived in two weeks, as opposed to the month they’d spent at the Uncut Emerald in Laeshir. It also afforded him the chance to drop in on his family and see how they were doing.</p><p></p><p> The sun was just dipping below the city walls when he walked through the gates of the manor. Halfway up the stairs to the second floor, he ran into Arrie.</p><p></p><p> “Welcome back,” she said.</p><p></p><p> “Thanks. Am I late?”</p><p></p><p> Arrie caught the meaning behind the question; <em>Did any news about your family arrive?</em> “No, you’re on time.”</p><p></p><p> “Good, I tried to hurry back.”</p><p></p><p> “Did you do everything you wanted?” Arrie asked.</p><p></p><p> “I think so,” Kyle replied. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Perhaps over that drink we discussed before I left?”</p><p></p><p> “It wasn’t much of a discussion, Kyle – you had me paralyzed, remember?”</p><p></p><p> “Oh, right. About that…”</p><p></p><p> “Yes, about that.” Arrie folded her arms. “I want you to keep doing it.”</p><p></p><p> “What?”</p><p></p><p> “Keep trying to cast spells on me. Not just <em>hold person</em>, either; whatever you’ve got. Nothing that’ll burn down the town, of course, or make me drop dead in the street.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle blinked. “Are you sure about this?”</p><p></p><p> “I’ve thought about what you said, about doing the unexpected and adapting. But mostly I’ve been thinking that I should’ve been able to resist that spell. But I was too slow in using my…” she looked around to make certain no one was nearby, “gifts to fend you off. I don’t want to be caught like that again, because next time it might not be so friendly. I need to be able to defend myself at a moment’s notice – or less, maybe – and the best way I can learn to do that is with training.” She winked at him. “Like you say, as long as we have to wait, I might as well make the time productive.”</p><p></p><p> “Well, okay,” Kyle said. “We can discuss that at the tavern.”</p><p></p><p> “Good. I’d say tonight, but I’m sure your plans include spending time with women other than me.” Arrie grinned. “She’s in her offices.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle passed Arrie on the stairs and headed for Autumn’s office. He quietly cracked the door open after nodding at the guard posted outside, and looked in on her. Autumn sat at her desk, signing several documents by the light of a single lamp. She wore a simple, practical dress that nonetheless complemented her form; though Kyle had to admit to himself that he’d never seen her wear anything that didn’t look good on her. The simple image of her sitting there, looking very serene and lady-like even at mundane tasks, was enough to cause Kyle to wait at the door for a while, simply watching her.</p><p></p><p> Finally, Autumn noticed the door was ajar, and looked up. “Kyle!” she said, her face beaming. She rose from the desk as he walked in, and met him halfway, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. Before he knew it, Kyle felt himself being pulled to the floor, and she spent the next several minutes being neither serene nor lady-like.</p><p></p><p> “That was some welcome back,” Kyle said after catching his breath.</p><p></p><p> “What, I’m not allowed to be spontaneous on occasion?” Autumn said, laughing. “Besides, I missed you.”</p><p></p><p> “I missed you too. And spontaneity is always welcome. But aren’t you worried about how the guard outside might react to this kind of… disturbance in your office?”</p><p></p><p> She shrugged, causing loose blonde hair to cascade over her shoulders. “He didn’t do anything yesterday when the stable boy was here, why would he today?” Autumn yelped as Kyle pinched her in a sensitive area.</p><p></p><p> “Boy, I leave for a week and you turn into a saucy tart,” he chided playfully. “Has Lanara been coaching you?”</p><p></p><p> “I’m just in a mood, I guess,” Autumn said, as she stood up and began to put herself back together, “Giddy, maybe. I don’t get a lot of chances these days to just be happy and carefree – I just got caught up in the moment.”</p><p></p><p> Kyle nodded. “I’m sorry I left in the middle of things like I did,” he said, “and without really explaining myself.”</p><p></p><p> “Will you tell me about it tonight?” she asked.</p><p></p><p> “Every detail.”</p><p></p><p> Autumn extended her hand, helping Kyle stand up. Then she pulled him into another embrace, this one more tender than passionate.</p><p></p><p> “Kyle,” she said, “will you promise me something?”</p><p></p><p> “What’s that?”</p><p></p><p> “Promise me you’ll stay with me here, at least until the wedding. I know that our lives won’t allow us to be with each other all the time, but… until the wedding, please?”</p><p></p><p> “Until the wedding,” Kyle repeated, “and as much as possible after that. I promise.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Delemental, post: 2892554, member: 5203"] [b]Promises to Keep[/b] Promises to Keep is the second player-written piece of fiction to follow "Price of Victory", written by yours truly. Those who read some of the other popular Story Hours here in addition to mine (and you really should - there's a lot of them far better than mine) will note that I've blatantly ripped off some names for this piece, notably from Sepulchrave and Piratecat. I should probably mutter some platitude here about sincerest form of flattery and all that. ;) -------------------------------------------- People were giving Kyle funny looks as he walked into the Uncut Emerald in Laeshir. Most likely because he had suddenly appeared in the middle of the street not three seconds ago. Kyle crossed the common room and approached a rotund dwarf with graying hair and beard. “Good afternoon, Burbark Hammerhand,” Kyle said. “I was wondering if you have any rooms for the night.” “Ayup,” said the portly dwarf, scratching his beard. “With or without bath?” “Without,” Kyle said. “I got three you can pick from,” Burbark said. “The suite, that’s two gold. Two separate chambers, has its own privy too. The second room’s six silver, single room, shared privy down the hall. Or you can have the Stinker for four silver.” “The Stinker?” Kyle asked. “Room’s a little larger than most of my single rooms. But a couple of years back, some wizard rented it out for a couple months and used it as an alchemy lab. Never have been able to get the smell out since. Annoying, but not unbearable.” Kyle suppressed a smile. “How unfortunate. I think the suite will be fine.” Kyle reached out and handed a platinum coin to Burbark. “I’d like my meals brought up tonight and in the morning,” he said. “And a pitcher of wine. The rest…” Kyle was interrupted by a spasm of coughing. “Everything all right, sir?” Burbark asked. “Fine,” Kyle said, getting the cough under control. “Getting used to the altitude, that’s all. I was going to sat that the rest of that is for you and your staff.” “Thank you, sir,” Burbark said, pocketing the coin. “Anything else?” “Just see that I’m not disturbed. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, Burbark. Now, I need to go meet someone; I’ll be back in an hour or so.” “Sure thing, sir,” Burbark said. Kyle turned and made his way to the door. “Hey!” Burbark called out, “how’d you know my name, anyway? We ever met before?” “Some friends of mine stayed here once, a while ago.” “Ah. Well then, good afternoon to you, sir!” Kyle left the Uncut Emerald and proceeded to the underground portion of the city. He paused briefly outside an abandoned old house, looking at two weathered statues of lions at the front gates, before continuing on down the road. He stopped at a more modest home, and knocked on the door. A liveried dwarf answered the door. “Kyle Goodson to see Myndrila Feyborn,” Kyle said. The dwarf nodded. “This way.” The servant led him into a drawing room, where a fire blazed. There was a window in the far wall, no doubt enchanted, as it appeared to look out on a sunny green meadow. The dwarf offered Kyle a seat, and a glass of wine before departing. A few minutes later, the doors opened again, and a woman walked through. It was difficult to say whether she was young or old; her face had a timeless quality to it. She appeared elven at first due to her pointed ears, but she lacked the almond shaped eyes of that race; hers were large, round, and sparkling. She moved gracefully to a chair opposite Kyle and sat down. “Welcome to my home, Wizard Goodson,” she said in a light, melodic voice. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Wizardess Feyborn.” The woman smiled. “Please, can we move on to ‘Kyle’ and ‘Myndrila’?” “Of course, Myndrila. So, how’s retirement?” “Boring,” she said. “But that’s the problem with having a grandmother who’s a nymph. Everything gets boring far too quickly. I honestly don’t know how full-blooded fey stand it.” “Sorry to hear that,” Kyle said. “Oh, it’s not that bad, Kyle. It keeps me motivated, from getting complacent.” She poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter nearby. “So, have you spoken to Professor Vorsha lately? Let her know how her little prodigy is doing?” “Not for a while,” Kyle admitted. “I’ve been… busy.” Myndrila laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Kyle. It’s expected, really. The way most wizards lead their lives, it’s sometimes years before we get around to personal correspondence, unless we want something.” She set down her glass. “Speaking of which…” “No sense beating about the bush, is there?” Kyle said, grinning. “Getting contacted by one of my former students at the Tower out of the blue, requesting a meeting at my home? It’s usually only one of two things.” She leveled a gaze at Kyle. “Please tell me that you’re not here in the hopes of playing out some sort of ‘teacher-student seduction’ fantasy.” “No!” Kyle exclaimed, turning a little red. “Thank Erito for that. It happens far too often, you understand. The nymph blood, and all.” Myndrila paused, and looked at Kyle. “Although, I must say you present yourself far better these days than you did at the Tower…” she looked at him for another moment, then shook her head as if clearing it. “Well, you’re not here for that. Which means you want something I own. What is it?” “Jovol’s Codex,” Kyle answered. Myndrila laughed for a moment, sweetly and lightly. “No.” “But you own three copies of the Codex,” Kyle said. “I rebuilt the shelves in your office, remember?” “And I obtained each of those copies at great personal expense,” Myndrila said. “There are only four in existence, each enchanted to resist transcription. And don’t bother looking for the fourth – its owner is even more intractable than I am.” “You haven’t even heard my offer, Myndrila,” Kyle said. “I doubt you could have anything I’m interested in. You’re an adventurer, not a researcher. I’m sure you’ve come across a lot in your travels, but most adventurers tend to collect more… mundane enchantments. Any books they find tend to end up as kindling.” “Myndrila…” Kyle scolded. She held up her hands in a pacifying gesture. “All right, all right, an unfair generalization, I’ll admit.” She sighed. “Very well. Make your offer, Kyle. Don’t get your hopes up on the Codex, but if what you have piques my interest, perhaps I might consider trading some lesser items.” Kyle reached into his magical belt and extracted a large tome, bound in the skin of some unidentifiable creature. He set the tome on his lap, flipped it open, and searched for a few moments before passing the book to Myndrila. With a bored expression, she glanced down at the page. Then she squinted, and looked harder, following a line with her finger. She turned the page, and scanned the contents of that as well. When she looked up, her expression was no longer bored. “I’d expected you to open with some lesser trinket, and we’d negotiate up from there.” “I don’t enjoy haggling.” “Who wrote this?” “The necromancer and master alchemist Neville.” Myndrila shook her head. “Neville was killed by the church of Tor years ago, and his possessions destroyed.” “He survived, thanks in large part to the information you have in front of you now. My friends and I made his second exit from the world more permanent.” Kyle smiled. “I was sure to pull that book out of the kindling pile.” “He certainly seems to have invested a lot of time into this,” Myndrila said, turning another page. “I’m no expert, but near as I can tell he’s come closer than anyone else. It would only take a few more years of research, I think.” Myndrila looked at the book a little longer before turning her sparkling eyes on Kyle. “This is dangerous knowledge, you know. Neville was a foul monster. The fact that you even own this book would get you censured by the church of Erito.” Kyle shrugged. “I’m not terribly concerned what Erito thinks of me these days,” he replied. Myndrila looked as though she was about to say something else, but chose not to. “Still, in the wrong hands, these formulas…” “But I’m not putting them in the wrong hands, am I?” Another bout of coughing interrupted him. Myndrila sat quietly until it subsided. “You do realize,” Mydrila said, slowly closing the book, “that my interests are neither in necromancy nor alchemy.” “No, they aren’t. But Professor Imbrindarl’s interests are.” Myndrila’s eyebrows arched, but she said nothing. “As I recall from that day when I was assigned to rebuild your shelves – the day I noticed you have three copies of a particular book – you were in your office lamenting to Professor Vax about how you’d been trying to obtain a certain item from Professor Imbrindarl; an orrery with unique properties. I remember you mentioning your frustration that the orrery was nearly useless to him, but extremely valuable to you. You cursed him quite elegantly for his ‘sentimental attachments’.” “You heard all that?” Myndrila asked. Kyle smiled. “Professor Feyborn, you are by no means the only instructor at the Tower who assumed that because I was just a laborer that I didn’t have ears to hear what was said or a mind to understand it.” Myndrila scowled. “Damn you, Vorsha.” She picked up her neglected wine glass and drained it. “So, why not take this book to Imbrindarl and trade for the orrery yourself?” “Because it’s not the orrery I want, and my time is limited. I figured I’d give you the pleasure of negotiating with him.” Myndrila sat for a while, looking down at the book, then up at Kyle, then at the book again. She uncrossed and uncrossed her legs, and then started tapping her finger against the table next to her chair. “I have a number of items that might interest you,” she said at last. “Perhaps a ring that will…” Kyle shook his head. “The Codex.” “I’ve researched a number of unique spells, you know. Very useful for your line of…” Again, Kyle shook his head. Sighing heavily, Myndrila stood up. She retrieved a tiny chest from a pocket, and spoke a few words. Instantly, a large, ornate chest appeared in the room between Myndrila and Kyle. After deactivating several wards, Myndrila opened the chest and pulled out a large tome, twice as large as the one Kyle had given her. Its cover was made of a strange, shimmering metal that seemed to amplify the light reflecting off it. Slowly, she handed the tome to Kyle. “You have no idea how much this hurts,” Myndrila said. Kyle smiled. “I’m sure the orrery will look lovely in your study.” “It had better.” Kyle stood up, placing his copy of Jovol’s Codex in his belt. He then took the hand that Myndrila offered, and kissed the back of it. “I’m eternally grateful, Professor Feyborn.” “Your manners have improved,” she commented. “You’ve been getting lessons?” “Every day,” he grinned. “From an excellent teacher.” “Would you care to stay? I have a guest room you could use.” “Thanks for the offer, but I have a room in town, and I’ll need to leave early tomorrow. I’ve already imposed on your hospitality enough. Perhaps the next time I’m in Laeshir?” “I doubt I’ll be living her much longer, honestly,” Myndrila said. “The boredom, and all.” “Well, then, I guess it’s until we meet again. Good evening to you, Myndrila Feyborn.” “And to you, Kyle Goodson. My servant can show you out.” Kyle was only a few steps from the door when Myndrila spoke. “I’m curious, Kyle. Why such an intense interest in planar and planetary metaphysics? Jovol’s Codex isn’t exactly introductory reading, and I’d had you figured as an artificer.” “My interests have evolved,” he said, “and there’s a rather important project I have in mind. If I had the time, I’d tell you more, and probably ask for your help. As it stands, I have to hope Jovol here will give me what I need.” “Well, let me know how it goes, if you get the chance.” “Trust me,” Kyle said, “if it works, you’ll know about it.” [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] “Gotcha!” Hulli squealed and fell over, rolling around in the dirt. Standing above him, Johan laughed out loud. “Get up,” he said, offering a hand. Hulli pulled himself up, and brushed dirt off his clothes. “I slipped,” he said defensively. Johan laughed again. “Some dwarf you are. Come on, then, say it.” “Do I have to?” Hulli whined. “You’re the one who wanted to play ‘Goblin in the Gully’,” Johan said. “No fair backing out now just because you got caught.” Hulli pouted, but nodded all the same. It was hard to argue with Johan; of all the children in Lisk, he had earned the most Honor Stones. His seven stones hung from the leather cord around his neck, proudly displayed. In only a few more years, his beard would start to come in, and soon after that he’d be breaking his cord and becoming an adult. “Quit stalling, hin-breath,” Johan said, reminding Hulli that that day had not yet arrived. Hulli grit his teeth, and then in a loud voice began to sing. [I] “I’m a greasy goblin, With not much in my head! I’ve got worms in my ale, And fleas in my bed! This noble dwarf has caught me, So now I must obey! I must do what he asks of me, Or he’ll chase me away!”[/I] After he finished reciting the rhyme, Hulli looked at Johan. “Al right, what are you going to make me do?” Johan thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. “You have to go give Belga Copperthumbs a kiss. On the mouth.” “What? Eww! No way!” Johan looked sternly at Hulli. “Would you rather be exiled, then?” Hulli scowled and pouted. Now he was in a bind. The rules for Goblin in the Gully were clear; if caught, he had to either perform one task, or he would be ‘exiled’, which in the context of the game meant that none of his friends would speak to him or play with him for a week. At the thought of kissing a girl, though, Hulli started to wonder if exile was really that bad. “Come on, what’s taking so long?” “I’m thinking!” “Oh, come on, how hard can it be? Everyone knows you want to kiss Belga anyway.” “I do not!” “Do too!” “Do not!” Grinning, Johan stepped back and began to chant. “Belga and Hulli, sitting in the dirt! He’s trying to look up her skirt!” “Shut up!” Hulli reached down and picked up a rock, and threw it at Johan. It bounced off his head. “Ow!” he said, rubbing his head. “You’re gonna get it now!” Hulli turned and began running up the hill, followed by Johan. Though Johan was older by a half-year, both boys were roughly equal size, so Hulli managed to keep ahead of his friend. Near the top of the hill, Hulli jumped over a low fence, Johan right on his heels. The younger boy heard a scrabbling in the dirt as his friend snatched up a loose stone. Hulli kept running; Johan may have been older, but he wasn’t as good at throwing stones. He knew that he wouldn’t try a throw while running, which meant he could get to where he was going safely. Cresting the hill, Hulli half ran, half slid to his destination. Just beyond the top was the town’s cemetery, littered with squat stone markers engraved with runes detailing the memory of Lisk’s former residents. Hulli ran past several markers, weaving back and forth, until he came to a halt. Behind him, he heard Johan slow down, and then stop, panting heavily. Hulli stood amidst a crowd of several statues of dwarven men and women. The statues wore mining clothes, and some held pickaxes and shovels. Others looked as though they were running; one was sprawled on the ground, his hand held up in front of his face as if to ward something off. All of them wore expressions of surprise and fear. “No fair!” Johan shouted at him. Hulli stuck his tongue out in response. Red-faced, Johan pitched the rock he carried at Hulli. The throw went wide, and the stone struck one of the statues on the head. Small chips of stone fell onto the ground. Hulli looked wide-eyed at the statue, then at Johan. “You hit my Dad!” he shouted. “You made me throw it! You shouldn’t have run in there! When I tell everyone, you’re going to have to kiss Belga [I]and [/I]get exiled!” “Won’t be near as bad as what they do to you when they find out you threw a rock at one of the Lost!” Hulli yelled back. “They’ll probably take away your Honor Stones!” “You little…” the rest of Johan’s curse was lost, as he rushed at Hulli and tackled him. The two dwarven boys wrestled around on the ground, punching and kicking each other. They rolled over as Hulli tried to throw Johan off, and the two boys slammed into the feet of another statue. The stone figure towering over them began to wobble, and then fall toward the two boys, who were too startled to move. They squeezed their eyes shut before the bone-crushing weight of the statue dropped on them. It took them a while to realize that the bone crushing hadn’t occurred. Slowly, each of them opened one eye. The statue still loomed over them, leaning over their heads at an angle that should have been impossible. But it hung motionless in mid-topple. “You boys should be more careful,” said a strange voice in the Common tongue. Both boys turned their heads to see who had spoken. Standing a short distance away was a tall human, of average build (it would be many years later before either of the boys realized that he was actually rather large and stocky for a human; they were used to dwarves, and so to their young eyes he looked merely average). He had black hair that was long and straight, pulled back with a silver ring. He wore long robes that were midnight blue, and in one hand he held a staff made of some strange silvery wood, with a crystal sphere on top that flashed and sparkled with many different colors. His other hand was pointed at the dwarven boys and the statue. He looked a little pale, and the hand that was pointing out trembled very slightly. “If you don’t mind,” the human said, this time speaking in Dwarven, “I’d appreciate it if you would move.” Both boys looked at each other, and then quickly released their grip on each other’s tunics and scrambled out of the way. Once they were clear, the human wiggled his finger a little, and the statue picked itself up and righted itself. “Magic,” Johan whispered to Hulli. “No kidding, goblin-brains,” Hulli whispered back. The human looked at them, and smiled. “You’re welcome, by the way.” Johan and Hulli looked at each other sheepishly. “Thanks,” they said in unison. Meanwhile, the human in the robes had begun looking around at the statues, poking at them and shaking his head. “They left them outside,” he said to himself, muttering in Common again. “How careless. I thought dwarves would know better.” Hulli and Johan exchanged looks again, uncertain of what to do. On the one hand, the human was a stranger, and speaking to strangers without an adult was forbidden. At the same time, he had just saved their lives, which automatically demanded respect. Plus, he was new and different, and therefore interesting. “You’re not supposed to touch those!” Hulli shouted, as the human bent over and picked up a chunk of stone ear that had fallen off one of the statues. “Really? Why not?” “Because they’re the honored dead! They’re the Lost Miners!” “Dead? Who said they were dead?” “Everybody,” Johan answered. “They were killed two years ago by a stonebreather. The town moved them out to the cemetery to honor them.” “And they were blocking the mine,” Hulli added, for which he received an elbow in the ribs. “Really? What happened to the stonebreather?” the human asked. “Some adventurers came in and killed it,” Johan said. “but in the fight two of them were turned to stone. Ardara had sent some magical ointment to Brother Durkoth to help bring back our people, but because these adventurers had fought on our behalf, we were honor bound to restore them first.” “I see,” said the human. “Very noble of you.” He suddenly doubled over, wracked with a fit of coughing. Greenish phlegm sprayed onto the ground. When he stood, both boys noticed that a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. “Are you sick?” Hulli asked. “Just a little,” the man croaked. He wiped his forehead with a sleeve. “It’s hot today.” The two boys looked at each other. It wasn’t even early spring yet, and they were in the mountains. It was anything but hot. “So,” said the human, “did Ardara ever send any more ointment?” “No, she didn’t,” Hulli said. “Brother Durkoth told us that the church didn’t have any more. It was after that they moved the statues here.” “Well then, it seems like those adventurers you talked about didn’t really finish the job, did they?” Both boys looked a little uncomfortable. “It’s not honorable to speak ill of those who have done a service for you,” Hulli said. “Spoken like a true dwarf,” the human said. “But how do you really feel?” He walked over and rested a hand on one of the statues. “I think I heard one of you say this was your father?” “Yes, sir, he’s mine,” Hulli said. “You miss him, don’t you?” “Yes, sir.” “Of course you do. No one should have to lose a father.” The human looked very sad for a moment before he continued. “You don’t think it’s very fair that those adventurers got to live and your father didn’t, do you?” For a while, Hulli said nothing. Then, slowly, he shook his head. The human smiled, and nodded. “You know something? I think you’re right.” He looked down at the statue of Hulli’s father, and spoke a few strange words neither of the boys could understand. The hand atop the statue began to glow slightly. Instantly, the little cracks and chips in the stone began to fill in. Johan watched as the dent he’d made earlier with his stone filled in. “That’s better,” the man said, as the glow on his hand faded. “May as well make sure all the pieces are there before I start.” “Um, sir?” Johan asked timidly. “Start what?” “This.” The man spoke a few more of the strange words, more than he’d spoken before. As he spoke, he reached down and picked up a pinch of loose soil, and then with a tiny knife he pulled out of his belt, made a shallow cut on his finger. He let the blood and dirt mix together, and then smeared in on the top of the statue’s head. He stopped speaking as soon as the reddish mud touched the stone. As the two young boys watched, the reddish tint in the glob of dirt slowly began to spread downward into the stone. The smooth, uniform gray was replaced by browns and pinks, and hard unyielding rock vanished in favor of warm flesh and soft fabric. In the blink of an eye, instead of a statue, there was a real, live dwarf standing before them. As if to prove the point, the dwarf suddenly inhaled sharply, then stumbled backward, dropping the shovel he’d been holding. “What… where…” the dwarf sputtered, looking around wildly. “How did I… I was in the mine… I saw…” He looked up at the human, who was standing above him smiling, and then looked over at the two young boys nearby. “Hulli?” the dwarf asked. Johan fainted. “Dad!” Hulli shouted, as he ran up and leapt into his father’s arms. “Dad! I can’t believe you’re alive!” “Alive?” he said, returning the embrace. “What are you talking about? I was just at work, and there was…” he looked around suddenly. “Why am I outside? In the cemetery?” He looked at Hulli. “And you’re taller than you were when I left.” He hooked a finger around the leather cord on Hulli’s neck. “Five Stones? You only had three this morning when I left for the mine, and…” then he looked up into the sky. “But it’s morning now. How can that…” Finally, he looked up at the human. “What’s going on here?” “It’s a little hard to explain, at least not before a few ales. Let’s go back to town, and I’ll tell you. I’m pretty sure everyone there will be very excited to see you. You bring your son, and I’ll get the other boy.” The dwarven miner slowly stood, as Hulli clung tightly to him, sobbing with joy. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked. “My name’s Kyle Goodson,” the human said. “I’m here to finish a job I started two years ago.” [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] It took Kyle three more days to restore all of the Lost Miners; after all, it was a difficult spell. His work was hampered by his steadily worsening illness. By the third day he was pale and trembling, having bouts of fever and chills, and his body ached everywhere. Brother Durkoth, the Ardaran priest that served the town, was away on a trip to Laeshir to buy supplies for the town, and wasn’t expected back for another week or two at least. Kyle refused all demands by the town’s women that he rest, saying that it was nothing serious and he’d be fine (though he knew this was a lie; what he truly feared was that if he didn’t get finished restoring the miners quickly, he’d become too ill to keep going). Instead, he smiled at them and shooed them away, judiciously hiding the mucus-filled rags that were now starting to show spots of blood. Finally, on the afternoon of the fourth day, Kyle said his farewells to the people of Lisk. The mayor presented him with an honorary copper plaque, and promises of food and shelter whenever he and the other members of the Legacy might return. Kyle mostly smiled and said little during the proceedings, mostly because he was sucking on a chunk of camphor root to control his coughing, and because everyone around him was spinning a little too much for him to focus on them. At the end of the ceremony, he was presented with a rather odd-looking copper mug, with two openings. Tulli, the dwarven miner who’d been the first one Kyle had saved, presented it. “What is it?” Kyle asked, not sure if he was simply too delirious to understand its function. “A dwarven wedding flagon,” Tulli said. “You told us that you’re getting married soon, right? On your wedding night, in the bedchamber, you fill it with your finest spirits, and you and your mate have to drink the whole thing to have a happy marriage.” “Maybe I’m not understanding something here,” Kyle croaked. “From the looks of this thing, it seems like most of the ale would just dump out all over each other.” “Of course it will, lad! That’s why you wait until you’re in the bedroom! You don’t drink all the ale out of the mug!” There was a chorus of loud laughter from everyone in the crowd. Tulli nudged Kyle with an elbow. “Can’t have a happy marriage without a happy beginning, eh?” Then he leaned in and whispered to Kyle. “Truth be told, I recommend one of those fruity spirits the gnomes favor. Less of a kick, but a sweeter finish, if you catch my meaning.” “Tulli,” Kyle said, “I think even the dimmest goblin in the deepest cave in Aelfenn could catch your meaning.” Once he’d put away his wedding flagon, Kyle gestured for everyone to step back, even though there was no real risk to the dwarves from a simple [I]teleport [/I]spell. “Just another few seconds,” he muttered to himself, “and I’ll be back in Vargas, where I can go straight to bed and get chewed out by Autumn for letting myself get this sick.” He spoke the words to the spell, and vanished. At first, Kyle thought he’d done something wrong. He was surrounded by darkness, and couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. There was a foul odor in the air, and a strange echoing all around him.. “Damn,” he said to himself, “must have landed in the wine cellar.” He reached into his belt, and produced one of his light globes, willing it to a dim glow as he held it aloft. The light revealed that he was in an enormous cavern, stalactites hanging from the ceiling above. The cave was roughly oval, perhaps five hundred feet long and three-quarters that distance in width. Of more pressing concern, however, were the hundreds of lean, snarling goblins that surrounded Kyle. “Oh, crap.” The air was filled with the sound of several dozen weapons being drawn. Kyle immediately willed his light globe to full strength, causing the goblins nearest him to shriek and cover their eyes. [I]More space,[/I] he thought, [I]I need more space.[/I] He cast a spell, and a globe of electrical force erupted all around him. By sheer force of will, he tried to bend the sphere’s energies to leave a safe pocket for himself, but his spinning head caused him to misjudge, and he winced as a jolt of lightning went up his arm. More importantly, however, several goblins fell all around him, dead and smoking. Their allies simply started stepping over the bodies. Kyle began casting again, this time to envelop himself in a [I]resilient sphere[/I] so he would have time to think of a plan. But as he was about to finish the spell, he was hit with another spasm of coughing, and he felt the spell slipping out of its valence, the energy wasted. A goblin leapt at him, and he was forced to bat it aside with his staff, knocking it to the floor. He quickly uttered another spell as more charged in, throwing them away with a burst of telekinetic force. Then, spying a small plateau a short distance away, he cast again, and an instant later appeared on top of the plateau. The sides were steep and smooth, which helped slow down the horde. Kyle took a moment to blast the two goblins already on top of the plateau with [I]magic missiles[/I] from his wand, then looked around again for an exit. Pain shot up his leg as an arrow stuck into his calf. Wincing, Kyle called up the words for a spell to protect himself from missiles, but a sudden wave of nausea caused him to lose focus, and that spell faded from his mind as well. Cursing, Kyle put up what defensive spells he had left. Several more arrows were flying his direction now, and though most were wide of the mark, simple random chance said that wouldn’t go on forever. And the goblins below were making slow but steady progress on climbing up the walls of the plateau. “Damn,” Kyle said, with a sigh. “Looks like Autumn won’t get a chance to say ‘I told you so’.” “Then I’ll have to say it for her,” a voice above him said. The perimeter of the plateau was suddenly ringed with fire, scorching the goblins who were just reaching the top. Flying down from the top of the cavern came a familiar face. “Myndrila?” Kyle gasped. “Of course,” she said, landing next to Kyle. “You didn’t really think I’d let you walk out of my home with one of my most treasured possessions without keeping an eye on you for a few days, do you?” She punctuated her question by gesturing and sending a fireball into the midst of some of the goblin archers. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it,” Kyle admitted, coughing. “Really, Kyle, a wizard in an adventuring group of your notoriety should really be giving more thought to anti-divinatory magic. What if I’d been an enemy instead of an ally?” “Then I wouldn’t be much worse off than I am now, would I?” He pointed and blasted some of the goblins with concussive force, ripping them to pieces. “I suppose not.” Myndrila handed Kyle three vials. “The pink one will cure the disease, the two blue ones should repair the damage it’s caused.” She shook her head even as she cast another spell. A multicolored vortex opened up in the cavern, and dozens of shrieking goblins were sucked up into it. “Really, Kyle. Running around all over eastern Aelfenn with a case of filth fever? You’re as stubborn as you were in school.” “Well, it’s not like I knew I had filth fever when I left,” Kyle said, drinking the pink potion. “By the way, what was that spell?” “Reality maelstrom,” she replied. “Opens an unstable portal to a random extra-planetary location.” “Impressive,” Kyle said. “Maybe I should have traded spells with you after all.” He quaffed the two blue potions, tossing the vials aside. He felt his head clearing up as the filth fever was eradicated. “That spell is beyond your abilities, I’m afraid. Another time, perhaps?” Myndrila gestured, and a large earth elemental sprung out of the ground and began pulverizing goblins left and right. “Right now, we should discuss what you owe me for saving your life and getting you out of here.” Kyle groaned, even as he felt his strength returning. “Please don’t ask me to give you back the Codex,” he said. “No, no, a deal’s a deal. The Codex is yours. What I want to know is what you’re doing with it.” “I told you what I’m doing.” “No, you hinted at it in vague terms. I want details.” “What, now?” “Do you have something better to do?” Myndrila asked sweetly. “Actually, yes!” Kyle said, pointing and hitting a few goblin archers with magic missiles. “Oh, the goblins? Well, if that’s a distraction…” Myndrila cast another spell, and suddenly she and Kyle were surrounded in an impenetrable globe. Outside the sphere, goblins were rushing up and pounding on the sides to no avail. “Now,” Myndrila said, turning to Kyle with her arms crossed. “The details, if you please?” Kyle sighed. “I have to warn you ahead of time,” he said, “there are certain elements that I [I]can’t [/I]share, but I think I can give you the idea without them.” Myndrila nodded. “Very well, then, Kyle. Do your best.” Kyle told Mydrila what he was planning. “You’re insane,” was the first thing she said. “No, just desperate and willing to take a risk,” he said. “Same thing. You do realize that such an act would defy some of the basic metaphysical principles on which our reality is founded, don’t you? I doubt the gods will just look the other way.” “Actually, I eventually hope to get their approval. If I don’t, well, it’ll just take a bit longer to set up some security.” “They’ll decide the Shadow Plane’s too good for you,” Myndrila said. “They’ll create a whole new race of beings to torment you for eternity, because they’ll be afraid the devils would go too easy on you.” “Your vote of confidence is overwhelming,” Kyle said irritably. “Well, be reasonable! Besides, it’s probably impossible.” “That’s why I need the Codex – to find out if it’s impossible or not, and how to do it if it’s not impossible.” Myndrila shook her head. “I should do you a favor and disintegrate you right now.” “You could,” Kyle said, “but then you’d have a bunch of very upset adventurers to deal with. Autumn can be rather intractable when she’s mad.” Kyle flashed an odd smile at Myndrila. “Besides, I think deep down you’re intrigued by the idea.” “On a purely theoretical level, nothing more,” she insisted. “Well, I’d certainly be willing to share my notes and calculations with you, in exchange for some expert advice… on a purely theoretical level, of course.” Myndrila stood quietly for a moment, thinking. “I’m going to end up in the Shadow for this,” she said at last. “All right.” “Thank you, Myndrila,” Kyle said. “But if you start to get into trouble for what you’re doing, leave my name out of it. Otherwise I’ll tell your wife that we’ve been having a torrid love affair this whole time.” “You wouldn’t,” Kyle said. “It’s either that or tell her we’ve been engaging in cosmic-scale blasphemy by attempting to change the universe to our whims,” she said. “I’m not sure which she’d take worse.” Myndrila smiled. “Then we have an understanding. Now, shall we get out of here? The smell is horrendous.” “Absolutely,” Kyle agreed. “Do you have any teleports left?” “None,” he admitted. Myndrila shook her head reproachfully. “I suppose you want a lift home?” “Back to Laeshir would be fine, Myndrila. I can get myself to Vargas tomorrow morning.” “Very well, but this time you’ll stay as my guest. I can give you some pointers on deciphering Jovol’s work.” “Thanks again,” Kyle said. He noticed that the force walls of the sphere were starting to waver a bit. “Shall we?” “Yes,” she said, and a moment later they were gone. [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] It was late the next day before Kyle arrived back in Vargas; he chose to [I]shadow walk[/I] back, being less confident about his ability to target a teleport into a place he’d only lived in two weeks, as opposed to the month they’d spent at the Uncut Emerald in Laeshir. It also afforded him the chance to drop in on his family and see how they were doing. The sun was just dipping below the city walls when he walked through the gates of the manor. Halfway up the stairs to the second floor, he ran into Arrie. “Welcome back,” she said. “Thanks. Am I late?” Arrie caught the meaning behind the question; [I]Did any news about your family arrive?[/I] “No, you’re on time.” “Good, I tried to hurry back.” “Did you do everything you wanted?” Arrie asked. “I think so,” Kyle replied. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Perhaps over that drink we discussed before I left?” “It wasn’t much of a discussion, Kyle – you had me paralyzed, remember?” “Oh, right. About that…” “Yes, about that.” Arrie folded her arms. “I want you to keep doing it.” “What?” “Keep trying to cast spells on me. Not just [I]hold person[/I], either; whatever you’ve got. Nothing that’ll burn down the town, of course, or make me drop dead in the street.” Kyle blinked. “Are you sure about this?” “I’ve thought about what you said, about doing the unexpected and adapting. But mostly I’ve been thinking that I should’ve been able to resist that spell. But I was too slow in using my…” she looked around to make certain no one was nearby, “gifts to fend you off. I don’t want to be caught like that again, because next time it might not be so friendly. I need to be able to defend myself at a moment’s notice – or less, maybe – and the best way I can learn to do that is with training.” She winked at him. “Like you say, as long as we have to wait, I might as well make the time productive.” “Well, okay,” Kyle said. “We can discuss that at the tavern.” “Good. I’d say tonight, but I’m sure your plans include spending time with women other than me.” Arrie grinned. “She’s in her offices.” Kyle passed Arrie on the stairs and headed for Autumn’s office. He quietly cracked the door open after nodding at the guard posted outside, and looked in on her. Autumn sat at her desk, signing several documents by the light of a single lamp. She wore a simple, practical dress that nonetheless complemented her form; though Kyle had to admit to himself that he’d never seen her wear anything that didn’t look good on her. The simple image of her sitting there, looking very serene and lady-like even at mundane tasks, was enough to cause Kyle to wait at the door for a while, simply watching her. Finally, Autumn noticed the door was ajar, and looked up. “Kyle!” she said, her face beaming. She rose from the desk as he walked in, and met him halfway, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. Before he knew it, Kyle felt himself being pulled to the floor, and she spent the next several minutes being neither serene nor lady-like. “That was some welcome back,” Kyle said after catching his breath. “What, I’m not allowed to be spontaneous on occasion?” Autumn said, laughing. “Besides, I missed you.” “I missed you too. And spontaneity is always welcome. But aren’t you worried about how the guard outside might react to this kind of… disturbance in your office?” She shrugged, causing loose blonde hair to cascade over her shoulders. “He didn’t do anything yesterday when the stable boy was here, why would he today?” Autumn yelped as Kyle pinched her in a sensitive area. “Boy, I leave for a week and you turn into a saucy tart,” he chided playfully. “Has Lanara been coaching you?” “I’m just in a mood, I guess,” Autumn said, as she stood up and began to put herself back together, “Giddy, maybe. I don’t get a lot of chances these days to just be happy and carefree – I just got caught up in the moment.” Kyle nodded. “I’m sorry I left in the middle of things like I did,” he said, “and without really explaining myself.” “Will you tell me about it tonight?” she asked. “Every detail.” Autumn extended her hand, helping Kyle stand up. Then she pulled him into another embrace, this one more tender than passionate. “Kyle,” she said, “will you promise me something?” “What’s that?” “Promise me you’ll stay with me here, at least until the wedding. I know that our lives won’t allow us to be with each other all the time, but… until the wedding, please?” “Until the wedding,” Kyle repeated, “and as much as possible after that. I promise.” [/QUOTE]
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