Serial Saturday: "The Clan of Outcasts" Season 3, Part 2

Part 2

"The Strange Stone"

Aurelle sat with her hands folded in front of her. She kept her eyes focused on Denahlia's shoulders--it had been too ingrained in her psyche never to look the Hunter straight in the eye. It had taken a while to learn why exactly that disturbed people so much, but the Gift she carried was so bizarre, so unlike anything Aurelle had ever seen--and she'd definitely seen her fair share of Gifts.

Denahlia leaned back, arms folded. "Taking up arms in peacetime now, are we?" She nodded to the weapon which the Harbormaster and his team had so tactfully relieved her of.
Aurelle snorted. "Well, somebody had to--"
"Come on, Aurelle!" Denahlia grunted. "Are you really so bored up in the White Castle that you had to come all the way down here just to stir things up?"
"I wasn't stirring anything," Aurelle finally looked Denahlia in the eye--but her gaze had lost its strangeness. Aurelle tightened her lips. "In case it's escaped your notice, Madam Watch, things are already stirred up--"
"You're not helping the situation with your vigilante tactics!"
The illusionist rolled her eyes. "Vigilante... I'm just doing what you should be doing."
Denahlia drummed her fingers on the desk. "I'm sorry if my work ethic isn't up to your standards, but I can't patrol the Harbor if half the time I'm getting called in it's to straighten you out!"
Aurelle's lip curled. "Apologies, Madam Watch; I guess old habits are hard to break."
Denahlia tilted an eyebrow. "Old habits? What old habits? For as long as I've known you, you've never been one to slip into combat so frequently."
Aurelle kept her face buried in the folds of her collar. "Shows how little you know me. What was I supposed to do? Just sit by and let the Harbor run amuck? Somebody had to step in, and you were gone--"
"Oh boy! Here we go again," Denahlia's face darkened, but her eyes didn't quite glint the way they used to. Instead, the angry red scar over her right eye swelled and darkened. "I step out for what amounts to--"
"A year, Denahlia. You were gone for an entire year, without so much as a message at any point, telling us this important reason why you would leave your jurisdiction in the hands of a skittish cadet--"
"Hayden is a perfectly capable Harbormaster, I wouldn't have left if I didn't believe he could handle it."
"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LEFT AT ALL!"

Denahlia’s hand came up, and Aurelle felt a tingling sensation creep in from her hands and feet, up her limbs toward her core—like a weighted blanket had just dropped over her. She tried to lift her hands, to resist the pressure, but her body went numb.
“Don’t. Yell. At me.” Denahlia growled, her blue eyes piercing Aurelle’s own. She closed her fist, and Aurelle felt the pressure on her body lift abruptly.
The illusionist raised her eyebrow, staring at the young woman’s empty hands. How had she altered her own Gift? Didn’t it used to be her eyes that could accomplish these superhuman feats?
She stared at the dark-haired woman. “What happened to you while you were gone, Denahlia? Where did you go?”
Denahlia glared across the desk. Her memory wanted to bring it all back, dredge up the events that transpired over her absence. She didn't want it. Those experiences, that life had no place in The Realm. "Nothing happened. I left, I came back."
"With a new scar on your face, and that strange thing you do with your hands." Aurelle's gaze cut into her.
Denahlia's lip curled. She pulled out the requisite form and signed it. "This is the last time I'm covering for you, Aurelle. Next time you decide to flaunt Harbor policies, you will answer for it."
Aurelle opened her palm, and a strange building emerged over her palm. It was straight and angular--nothing like any building in the whole Realm.
Denahlia winced and waved her hand, and the illusion shattered in a million pinpricks of light. "Get out of my office."
Aurelle stood, but she couldn't resist one last barb. "You can't just vanish on people and expect everything to pick up right where it left off without telling anybody, Denahlia. That's not how you treat friends."

The Harbor Watch beckoned over Aurelle's shoulder, and the door opened of its own accord. "When I decide you should know the story of my absence, I'll tell you. Until then, it's my business. Friendship or enmity has nothing to do with it."

Aurelle exited the office. As she rounded the corner that led to the street, a young man leaning against the wall stood and advanced toward her, smiling as he removed the pipe from his lips.

"Miss On-Again-Off-Again, is it?" He teased.
Aurelle gave a pinched smile and a mock curtsey. "Good day to you, Harbormaster."
Hayden chuckled, his gaze wandering over to the door leading into Denahlia's office. "She's a strange one, but she does the job."
Aurelle snorted. "When she's around," she muttered.
His smile never dimmed. "I've heard a lot of stories about her--she's been through a lot." He blinked as Aurelle held up her hand and tried to conjure the strange building again. It wouldn't form. "Well..." Hayden stammered. "I guess you've all been through quite a lot in the last years."
Aurelle chuckled. "You don't know the half of it." She paused and then heaved a sigh, shaking off some flood of memories. "Well, I suppose I ought to be getting back to the Castle."
Hayden took a long puff on his pipe. "Come back and visit again--and try not to cause trouble next time, eh?"
Aurelle smiled and waved as she walked away. "I'll do my best."
Hayden watched her leave and then turned to wander down toward the docks. He dodged to avoid a full wagon swaying by, and nearly collided with a man heading in the opposite direction.
"Hey, watch it!" The man snarled.
Hayden fumbled his pipe, caught it, and nodded to the man. "Dreadfully sorry--I hope I didn't spill any warm pipe-weed on you!"
The bearded man seemed a bit taken aback by Hayden's winning manner. He lost his ire immediately. "Oh, no harm done. Say... I've just arrived in these parts, and I'm looking for directions to a tavern--the Phoenix Inn, I believe it's called?"
Hayden smiled. "Ah! I know the place. Just take this road here," he pointed to the main street curving away from them. "It'll take you straight up toward the city. You'll turn left once you pass the City gates, and the Phoenix Inn will be just ahead. You can't miss it!"
The stranger smiled broadly. "Thank you kindly, sir!"
Hayden nodded and shook the man's hand. "Welcome to the Realm!" He surveyed the busy pier at the base of the road, and puffed happily on his pipe. Whatever Madam Denahlia and Lady Aurelle were arguing about, it couldn't have been something to drive a wedge between the women. One didn't have such disagreements in a Gifted Realm such as this!
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Princess Zayra surveyed the map spread out upon her desk. She would need to add a few names to the census--and where to fit them all? Perhaps organizing the community according to similar Gifts wasn't the best idea. It had made sense at first, putting all the water-types together, keeping those with telepathic connections to animals together with the shapeshifters so that the animals had room to roam without bothering the humans. She pursed her lips and stared at each thin boundary line marking out the lots. There seemed to be too many of one sort, and very few of another. What would it look like if she dispersed them in equal groups, including a group of diverse Gifts that could benefit one another, instead?
"It really is beautiful, isn't it?"

His voice never ceased to thrill her, and Zayra welcomed his soothing touch on her shoulders. She read the name over the top of the map. "Wildhaven--a sanctuary for Gifted people." She turned to look at her husband, Prince Beren. "Did you ever think The Realm would have something like this?"

Beren leaned against the desk and stroked his beard. He had started growing it the day after Jaran's coronation, and three years later, it had become thick, full, and well-maintained. He kept it short at Zayra's request; she loved to run her fingers through it, but she didn't like the idea of it hanging down over his neck.
"To be honest, I don't even think my father would have come up with such an idea," Beren replied to his wife. "He wanted to integrate the Gifted, but I don't think he had any contingency for those whose Gifts made it difficult for them to integrate."
Zayra nodded. She'd seen how trying to accommodate the Gifted population had only fostered unrest in the kingdom--for a time, it was only too easy for one side to antagonize the other, whether it was unGifted rejecting any sign of Giftedness, or the Gifted trying to set themselves up as superior over the unGifted. At one time, she was a major player in the push to control the Gifted population--unscrupulous manipulators sought to use her Gift against other Gifted ones, and it nearly caused the collapse of the entire Realm.

Zayra closed her eyes and felt that old hunger growing inside her; she knew she was drawn to power, and her Gift made it so she could leach a Gift off of another. When Beren desired to marry her and make her a princess, she had sought to channel that Gift into being able to seek out other Gifted people from among the community, to communicate understanding with them, and to give them one of two options: either they could live among the unGifted as a normal citizen, using their Gift publicly to benefit the kingdom--or they could move to Wildhaven, the village set up in the area that was once a barren wasteland, to live and thrive among other Gifted people in harmony and acceptance. The empty wilderness had soon filled with people who caused it to become a fruitful valley once more, and more and more Gifted individuals were coming in from far and wide to find a home in The Realm.
Zayra gestured to one of the newest letters on her desk. "Have you seen the latest arrivals?" she asked. "Apparently one young woman showed up with an animal friend the other day."

Beren glanced over the letter detailing the newcomer's profile. "Animal friend? What was it this time? A snake, or a dog?"
"Neither," Zayra smirked. "It was a bear, actually."

Beren coughed. "A bear? Oh dear. Wouldn't she be better off with Velora in the forest, you think?"
"On the contrary," Zayra tilted her head, "I thought they would get along splendidly in the corner between Lyona and Berto. She seemed more keen on putting down roots somewhere without worrying about someone trying to hunt her friend."
Beren nodded. "Ah, good point. Yes, the bear wouldn't have much to worry about alongside an alligator and a leopard."

A soft knock interrupted the couple.
"You wanted to see me, sire?" asked the gentle voice.
Beren and Zayra turned. Beren grinned. "Erlis! How are you feeling?"

The dark-haired half-dragon sighed and hung her head, letting her dark hair drop forward. It caught on her pointed earlobes, emphasizing the newly-developing feature even more. "Still changing, I'm afraid. Between Lizeth's tinctures and the amulet-stone, we've been able to stall the progression somewhat, but as far as reversing the process..." She sighed, feeling for the glowing blue stone hanging from her neck. It was hard enough to feel human when half her body was covered in bright-green dragon scales. When she suddenly began developing elfin characteristics, like pointed ears and heightened sensitivity in all her senses, she felt herself distancing even further from her old humanity.
Zayra reached over and caressed her arm. They shared a special bond, from the time Erlis had tried to provide Zayra with a transfusion to "heal" her of her dangerous Gift, which had resulted in Erlis turning fully into a dragon. "Stay strong, and don't give up hope," she murmured. "We'll find an answer somehow."
Beren stepped away from the desk and coughed. "Meanwhile, Erlis... I did want to talk to you about something in particular. Excuse us, my dear," he nodded to his wife.
Zayra nodded. "When you see Anahita, let her know I have some letters for her to write," she said.
Beren and Erlis left the room, and Zayra resumed studying the map.
A sudden swell of power behind her caused her to whirl around with a gasp. "Oh!" She blinked as the nexus of power coalesced over the form of the dark-skinned Gifted Mage, Risyn Nysir. His deep-violet eyes held her gaze.

"Is my lady well this evening?" he asked.
Zayra focused on her breathing and on settling the compulsion to draw on the darklight power Risyn carried within him. "Yes, Risyn, everything's fine."
"The portents whisper otherwise," he answered. "Trouble brews afar, and it spreads like the black pitch--"
Zayra moaned; Korsan had his moments of doom and gloom, but this apprentice he'd left behind took the tendency to a whole new level! "Then by all means, tell the King, if it's so urgent!" she couldn't restrain the edge creeping into her voice. The longer she stood near Risyn with no outlet for her sensitive affinity, the harder it was to suppress.
Risyn didn't seem to notice the effect he had upon her. He tilted his head. "I cannot discern its urgency, only that it is building, and should it reach the Realm--"
Zayra screwed up her courage and rushed right past him, to the door. "I can't deal with this right now..."
She nearly collided with someone in the hallway.
"Ooh! I'm sorry!"
Zayra felt her old ire stir itself. Of all the faces to run into when she was in this state--Azelie, the Queen of the Realm, the one she had been taught to view as a rival, as her nemesis. They had developed a true friendship over the last three years, but Zayra was no longer in the mood.
"Watch where you're going!" she snapped.
Queen Azelie frowned. "I'm sorry, I had no idea anyone was in there, I just--" she peeked over Zayra's shoulder. "Were you interviewing a new arrival in there?" she asked.
Zayra could feel her Gift spiraling out of control. She focused on the stones, on the cut of her dress, the feel of her fingers--anything but reaching out and strangling the former "Paragon of The Realm"! "No, I was talking to--" she gestured back into the room, but Risyn had already teleported somewhere else. A headache began to throb in her temples. "Never mind."
Azelie frowned, rubbing her head as well. "That's strange, because I thought I heard... I mean, in my head it sounded like... Oh well..." She wandered off, glancing through each door that she passed.
Zayra shook her head and descended the stairwell that would lead to the science tower. She needed a break from all the Gifted pressure around her, and some time with Lizeth and her unGifted assistant would provide the relief she sought!
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Velora squinted, trying to see deep into the center of the object delivered to her by Gavin. She weighed it in her hands, even sniffed it to try and detect what mineral it might be.
Gavin had told her, three different ways, exactly the spot he found it. She made him describe it and verbally retrace his steps until she could picture exactly the spot to which he referred--a spot that contained no mineral deposits, no geological well of any sort, to justify the existence of this large crystal. The one thing she hadn't tried yet was cracking the thing open to see what it was like on the inside--but she was running out of methods of identification. Was it a message? A gift? An accident? An omen?

Velora picked up the hammer and chisel. She tapped the crystal once or twice, just to test its malleability. The surface remained unscathed, and didn't give easily under the impact. One small chip wasn't going to do too much damage--and maybe Lizeth had something in her crazy science laboratory that would be able to identify it.
She braced the chisel against a flat surface, raised the hammer, and--
"Stop!"
Velora's downward swing came to a halt as a curling ivy vine caught her wrist. She snapped it with a jerk and dropped the chisel, baring her teeth in a wolf-like snarl at whoever would dare sneak up on her like that.
Golden eyes and a thick mop of dark hair curling behind pointed earlobes greeted her vision, and she dropped all signs of aggression. Her expression relaxed and she nodded in respect to the figure dressed in shining leather and a silky green tunic that blended in with the foliage.
"Greetings, Spruce. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The young Elf all but glared at her. He pointed over her shoulder. "Surrender that crystal; it is the property of Elvendom."
Velora blinked. "This?" She looked back at the small obelisk. "What is it, exactly?"

He advanced closer, like he was just going to pick it up and be on his way. "That is none of your concern," he answered. "It is imperative that you yield the item into my custody."
Velora's alpha-wolf instincts clicked into place. "A strange crystal somehow materializes on the mortal plane right in the center of my jurisdiction, and its importance is such that an Elvish prince comes personally to collect it--I should say that concerns me greatly!" she warned.
Spruce shuffled in his soft leather boots. He held her gaze with an even expression for a long moment, but he broke off with a sniff. "Chief Velora, I understand that these are circumstances beyond your scope, and I commend your determination to protect the area assigned to you by King Jaran--but if you will not hand it over willingly, I must warn you--my brother has been notified of its existence, and its presence here. He will not be so easily dissuaded."
Velora planted herself squarely between the Elf and the crystal. "You really aren't going to tell me anything about this thing, are you?"
Spruce maintained his stance. "You know that I, more than any other Elf, cherish the opportunity to impart knowledge from my realm to yours. In regards to this particular situation... I'm afraid I have no choice. You must hand it over."
Velora pressed her lips, mulling over the cost of resisting a people group as powerful as the Elves, Gifts notwithstanding. "How long do I have?" she asked quietly.
The Elf prince's shoulders relaxed. "I can delay my brother and buy you three days' time. At this time on the third day, you must enter Elvendom yourself to deliver the crystal, or nothing will stop him from taking it by force."
She nodded. "Three days it is, then."
Spruce folded his arms. "So be it." His body seemed to melt back into the brown and green shadows around him, and a moment later he vanished entirely.

Velora regarded the crystal with renewed interest. So... the Elves were willing to risk diplomatic outrage to regain this thing, and yet Spruce, of all Elves, had absolutely nothing to say to her on the subject?
Velora sighed and reached into the collar of her jerkin. On the end of a leather cord tied around her neck, she bore a glowing blue stone. It pulsed against her palm, filling her mind with thoughts of the bearded old Mage who had given it to her before disappearing without warning. When she closed her eyes, she could picture the other talisman-stones, pinpoints of blue in a hazy grey landscape. She focused on each one till she found the one she sought.

Following Korsan's instructions, she cleared her mind and focused on the face of that person, placing them squarely in the forefront of her mind, as if they stood right before her.
"Erlis, it's Velora."
She sensed the half-dragon react to the sudden psychic connection, and respond. "Velora--what's wrong?"
Velora smiled. "Nothing yet, but I think I've found something that might be of interest to you."
"Really? What is it?"
"I can't tell. The Elves want it very badly, but my source won't tell me anything about it. I was hoping maybe you could help me identify it."
"I can make my way down to the Forest at first light tomorrow."
"Thank you."

Velora released the connection and tucked the pendant back into her collar. She was going to find out about this strange crystal, if it took her three days and she had to demand the information from the Elves herself!

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