TempestChapter 4
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Tempest Of LiesChapter 15 free porn video
Jothan scrambled onto the boulder as a wave broke around it, surging into foam before pausing and retreating into the sea. He shook the bits of wet sand and water from his bare feet for a more secure foothold. He squinted as he peered into the sky, the wind prickling his skin as he waited for the sun to re-emerge from behind a small cloud.
Jothan lowered his eyes and looked out across the indigo ocean. He sensed the wards rather than saw them, as the slim crystals which held the enchantment were visible only at low tide, and then only to the sharpest eyes or a distance viewer trained on the right spot.
The skies brightened, and he felt the heat of the afternoon sun on his neck and arms once more.
He raised his hands, spreading them out as if to embrace the wards. He closed his eyes and breathed slow and easy as he let his five senses dull. The roar of the ocean became little more than a muffled whisper, the sunlight cool and inert, the brine no more odoriferous than old parchment.
The wards appeared in his mindscape as bright points in the deep velvet of the magical weave, like stars scattered across the night sky. He opened a conduit to them, and at once the energy pooled from the Inonni Mages surged through him, spiking out towards the wards. His arms trembled as maintaining the smooth flow of energy taxed both his endurance and powers of concentration.
Finally, it was done. He lowered his arms and reopened his normal senses.
"Most impressive, honored Mage," said a booming voice behind him.
Jothan had already sensed the man's presence. He waited until the water had surged out once more before he leapt from the boulder. He ran to drier land, beating the next wave before it could inundate his feet.
He stepped up to the older, balding gentlemen, who offered a wide smile and a bow of his head. Jothan returned the gesture and intoned, "Good day and good blessings to you."
The man beamed. "Learning our customs already, are you?"
"It behooves me to share in the culture of my esteemed hosts, Mage Master."
Inonni Mage Master Verano nodded once, the breeze catching his lowered hood with a brief flapping noise. He drew his robes more snug about his thick girth, similar in style to those worn by the Cohorts, but cast in a faint purple color and covered in runes woven in delicate silver thread.
"And your praise means much to me," continued Jothan. "As weather magery is not my specialty."
"It is most unfortunate that native Weather Mages are in such short supply, thus we must make do. Come, walk with me."
Jothan stepped beside the Mage Master as he started down the path. "I contend what I have done is little more than expediency of the moment," said Jothan.
"Not to worry, Mage Jothan, not to worry. We need only ensure the wards will take the edge off the worst of the storms this coming hurricane season. You have done well indeed."
"I thank you again, Mage Master."
Verano paused as he studied Jothan's face. "And now I am told you wish to assist us further. This time with knowledge rather than skill."
"Yes. I must admit, I am rather surprised at the reluctance I sense. No one appears ready to hear of the location of my brethren."
Verano chuckled. "You will find the Inonni are a very methodical people, with minds oriented to planning and schedule." He gave Jothan a significant look, though it was tempered by his jovial smile. "And patience, I might add."
Jothan allowed himself a small smirk. "And if you have worked with other expatriate Mages before, you will find patience is not as widespread a virtue as perhaps you might like."
Jothan's voice faltered slightly on the last word. His eyes shifted to the side. They were passing a round clearing, a low mound of grass surrounded by trees, one of the paths leading to it marked by a decorative stone archway. His eyes tracked the canopies of the trees, paused, then whipped back.
"Ah, yes, this is true," said Verano. "But I ask it of you nevertheless, at least until this evening."
Jothan stopped walking. "This evening, Mage Master? What is special about that time?"
The Mage Master turned to face Jothan. He knitted his fingers together over his belly. "We are to be visited by a man who has taken a keen interest in seeking rapprochement with your fellow expatriates."
Jothan raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?"
"He would be the one to follow up on your information. It is best you bequeath your knowledge directly to his ears."
Jothan nodded and slowly smiled. "Very well. I look forward to meeting this man."
Verano smiled and gestured down the path.
"I think I would like to enjoy the sun and fresh air for a little longer," said Jothan. "Channeling that much energy has worn me out a bit."
"Ah, of course." He bowed his head. "An honor as always."
Jothan smiled and bowed his head as well.
He waited until he heard Verano's retreating footsteps crunch over the sandy gravel before he raised his head, his smile fading. "Yeah, some honor," he muttered, and directed his gaze towards the trees.
He found it on the second sweep, utilizing more than just his eyes. He let out a relieved sigh. He had finally found one of the so-called "spy pearls."
He glanced down the path before he raised his hand. It was too high in the tree for him to touch, but he could sense the magic within it. Some of the binding magic had failed, as he could sense a minute amount of energy leakage, but it was still viable. He would come back that evening and replenish it.
And add a further embellishment to it.
Since the start of his self-appointed mission, he had been in a quandary as to how to get his readings of the Portal to the outside world. He would not risk a letter being perused by the Inonni before it made its way to a courier, and he doubted he could simply walk away once he had committed himself. He was embarrassed how long it had taken to think of the spy pearls.
He had conceived of a modification to the Farviewing spell. The pearls would be pushed to the limits of their abilities, not likely lasting more than a few days before they burned out, but he hoped it would be long enough to accomplish his task.
Yet he had to assume Marlon would think to examine the receiving orb at his end while the data was being transmitted. He could mitigate this by crafting the pearl to retransmit the data over and over until it was spent, but he could charge the pearl only so far.
He peered at the clearing beyond the trees and rolled his eyes. Now he knew why the spell had faded on this particular spy pearl. It had been from overuse. He was sure the clearing had once been used for slave training.
He made a mental note to find out who was cheeky enough to put a spy pearl right there considering the former Overlord had some magic sensitivity. He would do well to pick up some pointers from the man.
Jollis stepped out of the Portal and into the past.
The Portal closed behind him in a silent concussion of light, and he stood at the bend in the sandy path where it turned along the western shore of the island which once hosted the D'ronstaq Manor.
He looked off to the side and for a moment did not breathe. There it still stood, its walls and roof of wood and thatch still maintained against the elements. He knew no sentiment existed; his fellow Inonni maintained it as a matter of practicality, as it may once more have a use.
He was happy it had been decided to locate the new port along the north edge of the Manor, where the tides were more favorable. His brethren had left this corner undisturbed as a unintentional museum of his past.
Jollis felt compelled to enter. He did not let himself hesitate as he approached the doorway, its curtain still intact if faded from tropical sun and frayed from briny moisture. Hesitation would suggest an inability to accept his past actions. He was beyond such doubt. There was only the road ahead and the goal at its end.
Yet when he stood inside and stared past the now empty bedchamber which once housed a slave trainer and into the equally vacant chamber which once held her beautiful, luxuriously dark-haired, delightfully clever and intelligent charge, he could not move. He could not bring himself to take a step forward or to retreat, as if something forced him to remain in silent witness to what he had wrought.
Jollis let go a gentle sigh, no greater than the breeze which wafted in the windows and stirred the curtains in the doorways. Suddenly he could see Amanda before him once more, her eyes both blazing and tearful, holding out her hand and demanding the Farview pearl he had bound to her.
"I am upset," said Jollis to his memory. "Why?"
He received no answer, and an instant later, she faded back into the past.
Jollis clenched his jaw. He broke himself from his self-imposed paralysis and headed back outside. It had been a mistake to invoke privilege and arrive inside the Manor. He should have opened his Portal to the road outside and entered through the gate as everyone else. Perhaps it had been presumptuous of him after all to attempt his Pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain. This diversion could have well been the gods telling him he needed more Enlightenment before he would be ready for that ultimate step.
And perhaps the Elders of the Holy Order would be the source of that Enlightenment.
Suddenly it was as if a lead weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Now he had an honest purpose in coming here. As much as it pained him to admit it, he had been distressed at the lack of direct guidance from Kyllos. His mentor was not one to deliver tasks by such clandestine means. Only those who wished the option of disavowing any knowledge of the task did such things, and such things were beneath Kyllos.
And yet he was haunted by his own words: It is the wise man who practices deception when it serves a greater good.
The Holy Order would help make it all clear to him, he was sure of that now.
Jollis continued along the path which in the past would take him to the Overlord's quarters. As he walked, the trees fell away to his left, revealing the ocean. Some distance up the coast, several wide piers jutted from a cleared beach front, fulfilling the promise the Inonni had made to the peasants formerly beholden to the former Overlord of this Manor. Merchants ships sat anchored nearby, men loading and unloading goods as carts trundled back and forth along the new road constructed so the peasants did not need to come through the main gate to get to the depot.
The path itself had been widened, and now several Cohorts traversed it with him. He nodded in greeting, occasionally rewarded with a look of recognition and a deeper bow of the Cohort's head. The sand which had been gentle to bare-footed slaves had been scraped away and replaced with packed earth. Faint trails from wagon wheels lay in loose swirls in the dry ground. He glanced to the right; the vast flower garden once tended to by Roquan's slaves had been replaced by rows of vegetable plants and small fruit trees.
He pondered the reasons for this particular change, as the Inonni should have all the supplies they needed from grateful peasants. But he supposed he saw the reasoning. It was eminently practical, the antithesis of the old purpose of this Manor.
And he saw the warriors.
Yet again, he was struck by an odd juxtaposition of emotion. He wanted to feel pride. They had accomplished the goal of subduing Oceanus with a minimum of bloodshed. But as he approached where the Overlord's quarters once stood, he was reminded of that night when the Inonni had come to the Manor, and of a girl who had been forced into the maelstrom without understanding, who could not be allowed to understand until the time was right.
Jollis stopped as his gaze fell upon the structure just off the left side of the path, and for a distressing moment, he thought he had been taken back in time. It took another moment for him to realize this was a new structure which had been built upon the ruins of the old. It was larger than its predecessor, and more ornate. Once he spotted the crossed laurel leaves over the entrance, he realized it was a domicile of an Elder of the Holy Order.
The two warriors stood on either side of the entrance.
Jollis paused to collect his thoughts and calm his mind before he started towards the structure. He felt the same sense of anticipation and trepidation both which had accompanied his final trek towards the Holy Mountain. In a way, he was once again making that journey, as the mountain was symbolic of everything the Holy Order was.
Suddenly, his chest bumped into something long, thin, and unyielding, and when in his surprise he did not back away, surprise turned to shock when he was rapped quite soundly against his solar plexus. He staggered back, briefly robbed of breath as the blow reverberated through his body as only one delivered by a master of the Inonni war arts could do.
It was only when he had steadied his breath and taken another step back did he stare at the two warriors who flanked the entrance. One still held his staff out like a bar before the doorway, which he now slowly lifted. The warrior bowed his head, his face betraying no animosity. "Good day and good blessings to you, traveler. My apologies for my bluntness. I trust you are not injured."
Jollis hesitated before he returned the gesture, and his lips curled into a small and partially forced smile. "Not at all. May I ask the reason for such a reception?"
"A simple matter of security," said the warrior. "None may enter the presence of the Holy Order without securing prior permission."
Jollis had no immediate response, for the words made no sense. After a moment's thought, he finally spoke. "With the utmost respect intended to you, good warrior, have you not, perhaps, misinterpreted your orders?"
"Not at all," said the second warrior. "They were quite specific."
"This is most ... unprecedented," said Jollis, who caught himself before he could use the word "distasteful" instead. "In our own lands, even the private homes of the most elder of the Holy Order are considered open to all who have made the Pilgrimage. When they emerge from their Temple and walk among the people, they allow all to approach without--"
"This is not Inonnus, my good traveler," said the first warrior. "There are more than just Inonni here."
"Such as the expatriate Oceanus Mages," said the second.
Jollis wanted to object. This was not the way of the Inonni. He wanted to argue there was no better way to overcome the fear of the peasants than to show them how open and egalitarian even the revered members of the Holy Order could be. And yet the warriors' orders had most assuredly come from the Holy Order itself.
"And there can be no exception?" said Jollis. "Even for a Wanderer like me?"
"We are quite sorry, honored traveler," said the second warrior. "But--"
"One moment," said the first to his companion. He turned towards Jollis. "Did you say Wanderer?"
"Yes," said Jollis. "I am Jollis, the Wanderer."
The first gestured to the second, and both backed away from the door, planting one end of their staffs into the ground and gripping the other end with both hands. "Forgive us, honored Wanderer. I was told you would grace us with your presence."
Jollis tilted his head. "Have you, now? And who told you?"
"Our Mage Master divined your imminent arrival earlier this morning. You, of course, are always welcome, honored Wanderer."
Jollis avoided the temptation to react with a feeling of pride. He should hold no privilege above any other Inonni. All are equal in the eyes of the Holy Order, so it was believed.
And yet he was forced to overlook this anomaly. The Holy Order were the guiding hands of the Inonni. The people sought their future in the Order's wisdom. Thus everything the Order did was for a greater purpose, for a greater Enlightenment.
Jollis stepped past the warriors and entered a spacious reception chamber. Thick furs covered the floor, and exquisitely painted and embroidered tapestries festooned the walls depicting the gods of the Inonni pantheon, interspersed with symbols of the goddess, but not her image.
Jollis' eyes flitted across the tapestries, and he uttered a small sigh. Representations of the goddess were considered appropriate in such a setting only when accompanied by the nearby presence of a Priestess. The lack of Her visage told him none would be available to him here.
The rest of the room was largely empty save for a few small, cheap wooden chairs. They were expected to be used only in passing or to rest one's feet. This was again keeping with tradition. It gave Jollis some comfort, yet it forced the question: had he expected to see something else?
Before he could explore this thought any further, the curtain in the doorway to the inner chamber was parted by a thick, age-spotted hand. There was a pause, almost a hesitation, and a slightly portly man with gray hair fringed with frosty white stepped into the chamber.
Jollis was at a loss for word or action when he first laid eyes upon the man. This was the first time he had ever been in the presence of the Holy Order. In many ways, he looked like another Cohort. Only the presence of the silver embroidery around the fringes of his robes and that his hood remained down gave away his true nature.
He should not have expected more than this, and he silently chastised himself. Despite the reverence in which they were held, they were still men. They did not exude divine auras, nor did they revel in the trappings of riches and influence as did the former Oceanus Nobility. Yet the hard, lined face and the penetrating steel blue eyes augmented the sense of authority which Jollis had already given this man in his own mind.
The man folded his hands before him and stepped forward, his lips twitching into a small smile. Jollis bowed his head, then dropped to one knee. He spoke a short prayer, and held in his mind the image of the temple by his home in Inonnus.
The man held out his hand. "I accept your honored blessing," he said in an even baritone. "Now, rise, and face me as my equal."
Jollis stood and held his body erect and his head high. He met the Holy Elder with as even a gaze as he could muster. "You honor me by considering me your equal, Elder."
"But it seems, perhaps, it is I who should be honored, my Wanderer," said the Elder, his smile wide but tight.
Jollis allowed himself a small grin. "It appears I am becoming somewhat celebrated among my kind. I will ask the gods for guidance so it does not lead to unwarranted pride."
"Spoken as a true Wanderer, my friend. I am Elder Yurton."
"Jollis the Wanderer."
Yurton laced his fingers together. "And what brings your wanderings here?"
Jollis had not considered how he might answer such a question. He could never bring himself to lie to the Holy Order. Even acting judicious with the truth seemed wrong. In the days leading to Enlightenment, when those who would become the modern Inonni were little more than a group of radicals, the first of the Holy Order wielded great powers with which they could discern the truth from any man. It was only later those powers were reserved for the Priestesses and their special connection to the goddess.
Yet the tradition was carried into modern times. Thus it was believed any untruth told to a Holy Elder was always discovered eventually.
"I do no know, Elder Yurton," Jollis finally replied.
It was indeed the truth. He did not know. Kyllos had offered no explanation as to why he had desired that Jollis perform this task.
"Then, perhaps that is part of your quest for Enlightenment."
"You assume that is my ... my purpose here?"
Jollis realized the impertinence of his statement even before he had completed the thought. Such a thing would normally never have passed his lips. He wondered if his mind now insisted the aura of enforced truthfulness surrounding the Holy Order still existed.
Yurton smiled. "Few are able to visit us in our sanctuary past the Holy Mountain. It is inevitable some would leap at the chance afforded to them by current circumstances."
"You will find me at a loss, I am afraid," said Jollis. "Your words ring true, but I cannot as yet decide what requires your guidance."
Yurton considered and laced his fingers tighter. "Then I would be honored if you would remain among us. Perhaps then you will come to know the source of your discomfort, and I will be better able to guide you along the right path."
"I am most grateful, Elder Yurton. I suppose this may seem somewhat strange."
"In what way, my Wanderer?"
"It was I who helped lead the Inonni down the path to Oceanus. And yet I still feel the need to be shown the path ahead when it seemed so clear only a short span of days ago."
"No path is ever set in stone, Jollis. No path is so ingrained it cannot be altered, or even abandoned, if need be. None among the Inonni should know that better than you."
A slow smile touched Jollis' lips. Yes, it had been an eleventh candlemark change in plans which had secured Oceanus when it seemed he was on the brink of failure.
He realized he had attempted his Pilgrimage too soon if he had been too ready to rest on his laurels and let others continue what he had started. "I am honored my work is known and recognized by such men as you, Elder."
Yurton placed a hand on Jollis' shoulder. "We are quite grateful for your perseverance and your foresight. You have brought us another step closer towards our ultimate goals." His fingers squeezed gently. "And we are aware of your personal sacrifices."
Jollis' eyes widened in a rare, overt reaction of shock.
"Yes, we know of your difficulties in consigning one you grew to love to a life of suffering until her time comes."
Jollis was too overwhelmed to speak. He swallowed and tried to beat back his emotions, wishing he had taken more time to meditate to re-focus his mind before he arrived. He had been too eager to set about his new task (and thus discover exactly what that task was).
Or perhaps this is what Kyllos had wanted of him, to force Jollis to better confront his loss and see how it had been recognized and considered in the larger plan. "Forgive me, Elder Yurton," Jollis said in a slightly quavering voice. His gaze remained steady, but his eyes shimmered as they gave vent to some of his emotions. "My reaction is not at all appropriate."
Yurton folded his hands before him again. "It is understandable. We will say nothing more about it for now. Is there anything else I may help you with, Wanderer Jollis?"
Alma
- 27.03.2022
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