The Belromanticum

Chapter 50

How does one bid farewell to a life? I did not fear the passage of time, for to a wizard years are but soft abstractions. Rather, I feared that the life I had lived for the years since I had returned from exile, a life mostly of comfort, would no longer be mine. When I returned to it, if I ever did, the world around me would be changed. The children I had now would be grown, perhaps even gone. I could not bid farewell to it without a final journey and a few reunions.

Of course, the world had already begun to change around me. Even when I gathered up my family, I could not gather all of us. My children had already begun to make their way in the world. Threch was first and he was still on his adventures. Arkohnus had gone next, when he had become Sir Gereon's squire. Sarakiel had wept bitterly when Arkohnus had gone, but she understood the boy was ready for his destiny. Though I love all of my children, Arkohnus held a special place. He was not my first, but he was the first with one of my mates. Having him away was difficult, and when he did return to us in far Zuunkhorun, it would be as a fully-fledged knight.

All four of my wives were with child and Zhahllaia jokingly referred to this as the "new crop." There were certain advantages to having them all at once, or that's what I would tell myself when all four were waking us up through the night.

I was, perhaps, unfairly excited about the life inside Maireili, as this would be her first. This would be Miloz, who is not as famous as others of my children, but was a caring man who spent his life making me proud. Lysethe was pregnant with Euvorio, and Sarakiel with Zazel. Fascinating how the two of them would be forever associated with Castellandria, and for diametrically different reasons. They were not born there, but so many of Castellandra's leading citizens came from elsewhere. Many might not be aware that the two of them loved each other above all other siblings. Their alleged rivalry was an invention of later generations who insisted that Black Zazel and the Voice of the Crowd must have been enemies.

I insisted we only travel as a family. Tanyth objected, wanting to take warmaids and handmaids, but Thunderhead was for the eyes of my loves only. We would be perfectly safe, traveling through the Hinterlands to three different parts of Chassudor, none of which were especially dangerous.

We went to Iarveiros first, and Tarasynora was thrilled to receive us. Once again, Sarakiel was wary of her, and Maireili had a similar impression. They would not go into detail, I suspect out of respect for my long relationship with Tara, but they kept the elf at arm's length. Tanyth was charmed as she had been the last time. I admit that I was wary of Tara myself after learning of her deception, but she was kind and sweet. I was still in love with her, and she knew well how to assuage any suspicion. I think she loved me too in her way, and no matter what else I might have thought our bodies still fit together like two parts of a whole.

Stellanmark was our next destination. I wanted to meet the children I'd had with the Mythseekers. Alia, Velena, and Xeiliope greeted us warmly. I was grateful that the bad blood with Xeiliope was well and truly in the past, although so too was any romance. My relationship with both Velena and Xeiliope was strictly as friends, though Alia, cornered me alone as swiftly as she could and the two of us made the most of our reunion. We rode one another to exhaustion the entire visit, something that amused both my wives and my old friends.

Rina, Hadrian, and Xeilyphon were initially shy, but they were the same age as Sabrael and the twins, and soon all six were playing together like old friends. I also met Velena's new baby, a handsome little lad courtesy of Cull. I was pleased to see how happy the two of them were together. Their home was a lovely little cottage at the edge of the forest, with an expansive witch garden and a few goats and chickens. It was idyllic, but nothing could keep me from my quest.

The last destination was the most important, and it is the subject of this particular chapter. I took my brides to my first home. Of them, only Zhahllaia had seen Burley Shoal and Thunderhead. The others were curious about what sort of place could have produced me. They had heard my stories, mostly dismissing it as a provincial backwater, but that did not stop them from wanting to see it. It was time.

We emerged from the standing stones a short distance from Thunderhead. The sky was gray, the grass a bright emerald green. The path was muddy, winding along the rolling hills, back to the old stone tower that had been my home for the entirety of my youth.

Tanyth pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, shivering. "I thought Castellandria was cold. This is a desolate place."

"It is hardly so bad," Maireili said.

"If I were from the chilly depths, I might think so too."

"This is what it looks like in spring. You should feel the bitter chill off the Gray in winter," I said.

"No I should not," Tanyth huffed. "I long for a normal climate."

"Someplace dry as a bone and hotter than an oven, perhaps?" Sarakiel teased.

"I always used to wonder why barbarians went around in so many clothes. Now I know."

I led them down the path, and soon Thunderhead was on the horizon, poking up into the leaden sky.

"There is Thunderhead."

"It is...grand," Lysethe said, so unconvincingly that Tanyth and Sarakiel broke into laughter.

"Imagine how I felt when I saw it," Zhahllaia said. "Accustomed to the grandeur of the sultan's court, and I see that."

"I would like to remind all of you that I told you neither Thunderhead nor Burley Shoal is much to look at. Or live in," I said.

Tanyth embraced my arm, and Sarakiel cuddled the other side. "It is still good to see where you come from, love," Tanyth said.

"You must have been so lonely," Sarakiel said.

"I was until Zhahllaia," I said, smiling at my oldest companion.

"We found ways to amuse ourselves," she said with a smirk.

"What did you do, Mama Zhahllaia?" asked Abilyth.

"We played Alishum," said the djinn promptly.

Belyth stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Alishum is boring."

"You will like it when you're older."

"I hope not."

"Where did you meet my mother?" Belazei asked.

"That way," I said, pointing out to the coast. "Come, we can go there now."

"Shouldn't we greet your master first?" Sarakiel asked.

"The old man knew we were here the instant we stepped from the standing stones. If he wants to greet us, he's free to. Otherwise, we'll see him soon enough."

I led them to the trail that went down to the rocky beaches. Cut into the cliff, it was narrow and steep, and it was a familiar part of my youth. Quiyahui streaked into the sky as Oddrin once had, pursued by Eytelis, Lysethe's skymander, and soon they were frolicking over the white-frosted waves. The Gray Ocean lapped at the stony shore, and I was young once again. I saw myself meandering along the shore, collecting shells, peering into tidepools, aggressively doing nothing of import when I did not have to be at my studies.

In those days, I would be daydreaming of Bridda, the baker's daughter. I had never seen anything so beautiful as she. In my provincial way, I couldn't imagine anyone could be so lovely. This was before I met Zhahllaia of course. I nurtured fantasies of marrying Bridda, of being a hedge wizard looking after the people of Burley Shoal. There were many times I thought of the Belromanazar of that world, wed to a baker, raising a small brood of children, and leading a modest life. Such a fantasy can sound strange to those who know me. I never would have been satisfied with such an existence.

Things did not turn out that way, of course. Mira and the Swiftblades had shown me what lay beyond this remote corner of the world. Then I found Zhahllaia's lamp, and she nurtured my ambition to see it. As I looked about the beach, my attention fell on the great pyramidal rock, near the waterline.

"I met her here," I said, gesturing to the rock. "She was tangled in a net. I freed her, and we...well, you know what happened next."

Belazei scampered over, the rest of us trailing behind. My nereid daughter squatted down at the spot I indicated, running her clawed fingers over the rocks where many years ago her mother had once lay. "That is a trick," she said finally. "My mother told me of it. Find a fisherman's net, tangle yourself up, then wait on the shore. When a man finds you, you can see what sort he is."

I chuckled. "And here I thought it was luck."

"No. Mother watched you for months before she decided. This was her final test."

"That is clever. Although dangerous."

"It can be. Far more dangerous, I think, to lay with a man who might abuse one caught in a net. She was right to trust you."

"I am glad she did."

"I am glad too," she said, standing up to embrace me.

"Knowing you has been an unexpected gift." I held my daughter on the shore of the Gray Ocean, not far from the place she had been conceived.

"Father, it's time for me to go," she murmured

"Where?" The stab in my heart was a physical pain.

"I want to return to the sea."

"Forever?" I asked, terrified of the response.

"No. I like it up here too much to leave forever, but I've been away too long. I stayed much longer than I ever expected to."

"You have a family here."

"I know, Father." She hugged me again. "I've never once doubted that."

"I love you more than I thought I could love anyone," I said, squeezing her.

She kissed my cheek, then knelt and bid farewell to her little siblings. They wept, and Sarakiel joined them. Finally, Belazei stripped out of her meager clothing and returned to the sea. She stopped once, right before slipping beneath the waves and raised one webbed hand. We raised ours, and she was gone.

***

***

We climbed the path to Thunderhead, my steps heavy. I knew Belazei had to go, but that did not salve the wound of a father. A mule I didn't recognize regarded us with suspicion from the stables. Until the moment I laid eyes on this beast, I had expected to see old Hob. A foolish impulse, as during my last visit, years before I even went to war, Bridda had told me old Hob was dead. Still, the unfamiliar animal was a clear sign that the world had changed around me. Even this remote place had moved on.

The front door of the tower opened. A young girl stood on the other side, watching us warily. She was perhaps a year younger than Malycent, her hair a light brown, her eyes a pretty blue-green. She was clad in simple robes, like the kinds I had worn when I had been an apprentice here. A moon cat sat by her side, its softly-glowing eyes watchful.

The young apprentice's gaze fell on me and her eyes filled with a swift recognition. "You are Belromanazar. The old apprentice."

"I am. And you are?"

"Morwen. I am the new apprentice. Rhadoviel said you would come here, once you were done wasting time on the beach." She said this last with an attempt at imitating the old man's deeper voice.

I chuckled. "I wasted a lot of time there when I was apprentice."

"I like it there," she confided. "He wants to meet you in the kitchen." Her eyes went to Malycent, who waved.

"I know the way. Would you be kind enough to show Thunderhead to my children?" I turned to them. "Faustan, Malycent, you're in charge of the little ones. Quiyahui will watch over you."

The two elders sighed. "Yes, Papa," Malycent said.

The little wizard nodded shyly, and soon the children had run off, my feathered serpent pacing them in the sky. I envied Morwen in that moment. To have a playmate my age while I had been growing up would have been an unthinkable luxury.

I went inside, following the well-worn path down into the kitchen. Centuries of feet, the old man's, every apprentice, my own, had worn the very stones down. Thunderhead had been ancient when I lived there, and in a true reckoning the span of years since then was nothing in its lifespan. Yet it seemed so much older. Perhaps I noticed the cracks, the drips, and the drafts more. Everything was smaller and ruder.

We entered the modest kitchen and while my wives looked about, I settled at one end of the old and familiar wooden table where I had eaten so many meals. I looked from face to face and I saw a strange combination of expressions, each one in different proportions. I saw curiosity, of seeing how this place unraveled the mystery of the man they loved, and that was dominant upon Lysethe. I saw amusement, as though such a place could never have possibly held me, which was paramount upon Tanyth's face. I saw sympathy, as she saw herself in this place too, the expression of Sarakiel. In Maireili, I saw all three balanced perfectly on her lovely features.

I sat down at the table while my wives wandered about the room gazing at the objects that made up my childhood. Only Zhahllaia stayed by my side, a caress of her presence like soft breath over the nape of my neck. She knew this place nearly as well as I.

The old man came in, his familiar Ephlin, a cyclopus, lay in a jug of water. What shocked me was how young Rhadoviel looked. By any rational measure, he had not aged a day. He had the same ageless quality all wizards had, but his habits and general irascibility had always made me think of him as "the old man." Yet now, as I had aged and as I had seen more of the world, he seemed to me to have a spark of youth to him. The glass jug made a thump as he set it on the table, and Ephlin began to pull himself partly out. I thought I saw recognition in the creature's eye.

"You're back," he said without preamble. "Something the matter?"

"Great wizard Rhadoviel," Tanyth said, bowing. "I am Princess Tanyth of Clan Abibaal."

"Princess?" he grunted, raising an eyebrow at me. "Now you're swanning about with princesses?"

"She is my wife."

"Is she now? When the lot of you stepped out of the standing stones, I thought it might be you. Couldn't be sure. You're bigger. Got that beard too, and that menagerie. And no night eft."

"Oddrin died."

"You still a wizard?"

"I am."

His eyebrows went up briefly before his natural gruffness took over once again. "Suppose I taught you well enough."

"You took a new apprentice."

"Didn't want to. Had to," he said. "No one else around to take her. Why are you here?"

"I am departing Chassudor soon."

"Won't be the first time."

"You have been watching me?"

"I hear things," he said with a shrug. "You make a great deal of noise."

"Yes, well, we're leaving. Maybe for a long time. My wives wanted to see where I came from."

He barked with laughter. "Not much to look at, is it? Everybody's got to come from somewhere, even him."

"May I present them?"

"I know the djinn," he said, "though I never met her proper like. Used to sneak around with her thinking I didn't know what happened under my own roof. The Kharsoomian was what, Tanys?"

"Tanyth."

"Shouldn't be surprised you found one of them. Used to look at theEroticum Kharsoomiumso much I was worried you were going to stick those pages together."

My face grew hot as Tanyth stifled a musical laugh. "This is Sarakiel, a former librarian in the Grand Library at Castellandria."

"You know theEroticum, do you?" he said.

"I am familiar," Sarakiel said, blushing indigo.

"This is Lysethe and Maireili."

"A wizard and a ghoul. Don't know if you're brave or foolish."

"Both," Tanyth said.

Rhadoviel cracked a smile that he swiftly banished. "Well, you came here, you met me. Don't have the space for you. Any of you either."

"I planned to stay in Burley Shoal."

Rhadoviel nodded, a shadow passing briefly over his features. "That's a good enough idea. Might as well see the whole area. A corner of desolation just isn't as breathtaking as a whole village of it."

***

***

After speaking with Rhadoviel, I looked about the old tower. The library was still groaning under the weight of its books, and the laboratory bubbled with its familiar scents. Morwen had taken my old chamber, and I was glad someone was using it. I looked under the table and found the heart Mira had carved those many years ago. I wondered if Morwen had found it. If she wondered who had left it and why. After that, we made our way down the muddy track to Burley Shoal.

"He is not the warmest sort," Tanyth observed, drawing her cloak about her. "Appropriate for this bleak place."

"Desolate and open," said Maireili.

"I thought you had been exaggerating," Sarakiel said.

"I like it," Lysethe decided. "It is peaceful."

"Papa, what did you do here?" asked Faustan.

"Learned magic. I spent time down on the beach there. I played Alishum with Mama Zhahllaia." I shook my head. "It seemed like more then. It felt bigger then. I had not seen anything bigger, I suppose."

We entered Burley Shoal just after nightfall. I had always known it to be small, but it looked positively tiny. The single muddy track ran up through the middle, separating the docks where the villagers worked from the huts where they slept. The wharf, barely worth the name, reached into the shallow bay. Fisherman's shacks were arranged in clusters, each but a single room.

I passed the bakery. The doors were closed, and it was dark. I thought of Bridda, how warm and inviting she had been last time. How we'd lain together in the back, the two of us finding unexpected joy in one another. I wondered if she still thought of that night with the same fondness as I, and if she might want to repeat it.

That would have to wait. I went into Burley Shoal's only inn, as cozy as the rest of the town. A few fishermen with weather-burned faces gathered around the fire, drinking their evening pint before shuffling off to their shacks. I recognized none of them. Judging by the suspicious glares they shot at us, we were just as unfamiliar. I was grateful that Sarakiel had chosen to wear her amulet, Maireili kept the hood of her cloak up, and Zhahllaia had returned to her lamp. We were already outsiders, and there was no need to make that more evident.

A middle-aged woman, plump and pleasant looking, called from behind the bar. "Welcome, wizard."

I went to her with a friendly smile. She looked faintly familiar, though I could not for the life of me place her. "You remember me."

"Begging your pardon, my lord, no. Simply that I know a wizard when I see one."

"Is Hagen about?"

Her friendly smile faltered. "You knew my father?"

"I did," I said, immediately feeling cruel. "I am sorry for your loss. He was a good man."

"It was several years at this point. How did you know him?" she asked curiously.

"I grew up not far from here."

"At the wizard's tower, I expect."

"I was Rhadoviel's apprentice."

Her eyes widened. "That would make you...Bel..."

"Belromanazar, yes."

"Burley Shoal is a small place, Master Wizard," she said, her smile growing genuine. "We've heard tales of your exploits."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes, the matter with the dragon is a particular favorite."

"The dragon?"

"I don't tell it well. If Elward was here...what am I saying? You lived it! I suppose you'd like the room?"

"I wasn't sure if it would fit all of us."

"It'll be cozy," she said pleasantly.

"We'll take it, and if you would be kind enough to send up whatever the kitchen's making?"

"Same thing it made yesterday, and the day before," she said easily.

"Fish stew, like I never left."

As we made our way to the staircase that led to the inn's single room, Faustan and Malycent came up next to me.

"Papa?" Malycent asked. "What dragon?"

"I think she was confused."

"You met a dragon once," Faustan said. "Quiyahui's mama."

"She wasn't a dragon. Closer to a goddess."