Chapter 16

"Put them over there gently," Jemeir orders Radclyff as soon as they enter his house. The Fenri places Merrick, Arven, and Sylfinas on their own couches horizontally. Jemeir had Kaera use him as support walking back. She is placed on a wooden rocking chair. All four are groaning. "I'm going to get the emergency medical equipment upstairs. Can you keep watch while I'm away?"

"I will."

Jemeir heads upstairs. 

"Thank you for saving our asses back there," Arven utters.

"Don't mention it, Arven," Radclyff responds.

"Dude, you two kicked so much ass. That was awesome," Merrick praises Radclyff.

"No need for complimenting Jemeir and me. How are you doing, by the way?"

"Still can't move my arms and legs. I can move my fingers somewhat, which is progress."

"You sure you're good?" Kaera inquires. 

"I'm sure I am Kaera. Give me rest, and I will revert back to normal."

"Sounds like you've experienced this before."

"Yeah. Not interested in talking about that, though."

"What happened to you?" Sylfinas catechizes. "You looked like your body was possessed by something. None of our words were affecting you."

"It was, Sylfinas. Don't know what, and I never want it to do it again if I can help it."

"Understandable. Hey Radclyff, how did you and dad know where we were?"

"Well, we were having a chat near where the pie contest was taking place when the attack occurred. I got my family somewhere safe, and he and I went to where he said all of you agreed to meet. It became obvious to him that something happened after you didn't show up in a few minutes, so we went off searching. We saw a gigantic wave of lightning go by, and we figured to go there to see if it was you. Boy, when he observed what was about to happen when we first saw you, I've never seen him go that fast in a long time. They screwed up big time pissing Jemeir off."

"And we just witnessed what happens to someone that does infuriate him."

"Sylfinas and I had good judgment not to do that," Arven speaks. “Now we have more reason not to."

"Good to know that you will not make me mad," Jemeir replies.

The sudden voice startles Arven, turning towards the stairs. "Dad!"

Jemeir appears in the stairwell. "Found the supplies. Now let's patch all of you up." He and Radclyff start removing the impromptu bandages and any projectiles sticking out of them are. Once they expose the wounds, they exploit potent whiskey from Jemeir's stash, which burns like hell to the victims. Some afflictions require stitches, which Jemeir commences, teaching Radclyff simultaneously.

"I still don't see why we couldn't have gotten a cleric or someone else with healing magic to render aid instead of heading here?" Merrick complains.

"Because Merrick, they would be stretched thin dealing with the aftermath," Jemeir responds. "People with healing magic are rare, to begin with. Your injuries and Arven's, Kaera's, and Sylfinas's are not life-threatening, so why waste valuable resources when they could be put to greater use."

"Point taken."

Jemeir finishes the last amount of stitches. "All of you are done. I'm sure you'd like to ask Radclyff and me more questions, but that can wait until tomorrow. Right now, you need to rest, and Radclyff needs to head back to his home."

Radclyff nods in agreement. "Aila is worried sick right about now, and the longer she waits, the more upset she'll be, and an upset wife does not end well for the husband. Take care."

"You too."

Radclyff leaves, waving goodbye, and Jemeir heads to his bedroom. Arven and the others sleep where they are currently. Kaera is too lethargic and injured to sleep in her typical style. Their phlegm provides a barrier to any commotion outside.

Merrick finds himself in a distinctive landscape. However, he feels like he's too familiar with the place. Merrick realizes that one of the guards is dragging him and an older girl away from a ruined house. He knows that he's inside the body of his younger self, the girl is his sister, and the destroyed edifice is his former domicile. 

"What's going on, sis," Merrick questions in his childish voice. She doesn't respond. "Where are we going? Where are they taking us?" The sibling remains silent, her visage suggesting that she's distraught to the point of tuning everything out, and she's scared of him.

Breaking free from the guard's grip, Merrick barrels towards the demolished house, scouring the wreckage. In the debris, he discovers a maturer female, recognizing her as his mother. Blood flows down her chin, her skin is deathly pale, and her pupils are as wide as they can go.

"Mom. Mom, wake up." Merrick attempts to shake her awake unaware she's deceased. "Please, wake up, mom." He continues to jostle her, getting more frantic as she continues to not react. A guard drags him away as he struggles to run back to her, crying out, "Wake up!"

(Argthanaw 22nd Year 672 of the 4th Age)

The next day arrives, and everyone stirs from their slumber, realizing that it's later in the day than they typically do. Jemeir makes breakfast as usual. When it's ready, everyone else gets on their feet and slowly hobbles to the table, wincing at the pain. The breakfast contains steak, eggs, pancakes with syrup, juice, milk, or water; Merrick piles a massive load of comestibles on his plate. He devours it quickly and goes for a second helping before everyone else barely starts eating their first. Not even Kaera can keep up with him.

"Nice to know you're back to normal, Merrick," Kaera comments.

Merrick shrugs. "All I needed was a good night's rest." He goes in for his third load, keeping the distraught from last night's dream hidden within himself.

"Slow down, Merrick. You're eating more than usual," Arven says.

"Sorry, guys. I usually become this hungry after I go way overboard with my powers."

Ravenous appetite. Markings that Merrick said he doesn't recall ever getting. They just showed up. He can do lightning, and that was a massive surge of it unleashed from him. Could the stories be true? Is he… A knock on the door disrupts Jemeir's concentration, and he ambulates over to answer, beholding a guard from the town standing on the porch as he opens it.

"Morning, sir," the guard initiates the conversation.

"Morning."

"Sorry to disturb you, but reports are coming out about several civilians taking part in fighting against the terrorists last night. Some match the description of you and the people over at the dining table. The baron would like to hold a special ceremony within a couple of days to reward those that helped the town. It would be greatly appreciated if all of you could make it."

"And what if we refuse or are unable to come?"

"Nothing serious. Just that, Baron Edreth will be disappointed in not congratulating everyone in person. He may either come to this place in person or send a bloodhawk with the medals attached."

"Is that all?"

"I need your name and their names as well. Then I'll leave."

Jemeir gives him his and their names. "Before you go, do you know why they attacked last night?"

"Too early to tell. Maybe above my pay grade. Fifty-fifty chance of it being made public or kept secret. All I do know is the death total is currently at one hundred eighty-six. Well, I must be going now. I got more people to meet, and I've been assigned to the surrounding countryside to Belburn, so I got a lot of walking left."

"Take care now."

"You also." The door shuts, and the guard walks off. 

"So they don't know the reason for the attack, father?" Sylfinas questions.

"No, Sylfinas. At least he doesn't. It won't surprise me if he's not on the list of who needs to know."

"I heard him say about us getting a medal."

"Indeed, we are. The baron wants to thank the civilians that took arms against the terrorists."

"We're getting a medal?" Merrick inquires, sounding hopeful about the material he can use for his situation. "I hope it's made out of gold."

"I wouldn't count on it, Merrick," Jemeir replies.

Merrick felt disappointed. "Damn."

Another knock arrives half an hour later, and Radclyff ambulates in. The Fenri locates the nearest furniture to plant his fundament on.

"Sleep well?" Jemeir inquires.

The Fenri yawns. "As well as someone coming home to a wife and a bunch of kids worried sick about me, Jemeir. Kept me up with a bunch of questions, and my youngest wanted to sleep with me during the middle of the night, and they are not quiet."

"Sorry to hear that."

Radclyff yawns again, stretching his body. "It's alright. Anyway, did you hear about the baron wanting to give us medals?"

"Yes. A guard came by a while ago and told us."

"Ok."

"Are we going to the ceremony, dad?" Arven asks.

"I think it would be best if we all did, but if any of you absolutely don't want to, I won't force you. Now that Radclyff is here, I assume you have questions." Sylfinas and Merrick go immediately.

"What was that thing you did back there where your body was outlined in green?" Sylfinas catechizes.

"Are you a mage? Maybe a Mage Lord?" Merrick sounds desperate in his question.

Jemeir gestures with his hands to calm the youths down. "Woah, woah. One at a time, please. First off, I'm not a mage and definitely not a Mage Lord. I never accessed my Mana Well. I learned a different technique to harness elements around me. So I can't fling fireballs or summon a tidal wave when I want, but I can absorb and manipulate my opponent's spells, provided certain criteria are met. I can use that instead to do what I want depending on the amount at my disposal."

Merrick tilts his head slightly. "Mana Well?"

"It's the source of casting magic. Everybody has one to start out with. It's what makes people alive. It's up to them to decide whether to tap into that and be a mage or not."

"Then what was it that you did last night?" Arven questions.

"Well, that was ki, a type of energy that people can manipulate through numerous years of meditation. I stayed at a monastery for multiple years because I was impulsive when I was younger. I trained in martial arts and some weapons, and I learned to enter into a meditative state to access ki."

"So, you can't teach me then?" Merrick inquires, sounding dejected.

"Unfortunately, no. Radclyff and I will be tagging along when you escort Kaera back home for the first part of the journey to train all of you."

Radclyff snorts and suddenly awakes. "We are what?"

Jemeir turns his head towards Radclyff. "We're going with them on the first part of their adventure to Canir to train them."

"When?"

"After the baron gives out the awards." Jemeir reverts his attention to Merrick, allowing Radclyff to fall back to sleep. "Back to what I was saying, I can only teach you the very basics of magic,"

"But you know more than I do," Merrick articulates, trying to cajole Jemeir.

"That's because I traveled with a mage long ago. She'll teach you well. She's a Mage Lord."

"Malrina?"

Jemeir appears aghast. "Oh, gods no. The stories about her training methods are fierce. This person's name is Frosira. She lives in the kingdom of Aeyis, last I heard about her. If you can find her in there, she may instill vast knowledge of magic."

Kaera stares at Radclyff. "Hey, Radclyff."

The virile Fenri rubs his eyes immediately after opening them. "Huh? What? You said something, Kaera?"

"What was it that you performed at the fight last night where you dealt damage to yourself?" 

"That? I was doing that as a sacrifice to our ancestors and spirits to grant me a boost in power."

"Can I learn that?"

"If you are in good relations with them, then yes." 

Kaera grimaces at his response. That won't happen for a while.

"We still don't know why the terrorists attacked, dad?"

Jemeir shakes his head. "No, we don't, Sylfinas."

"It's because they're trying to spark another war between Pheha and Adoran." Arven chimes in.

"Don't say that," Sylfinas protests.

"Well, what's your explanation?"

"But humanoid trafficking to mass murder and starting a war? That's an awfully major escalation in crime."

"Calm down, you two." They both obey their father's command. "The Drow- that I suspect was the leader- acted like she knew all of you. Were she and the others in her group the ones you spoke of about getting into an altercation a few days ago, Sylfinas?"

"Yes."

"What is their name?"

"Phantom Brotherhood."

Jemeir's expression changes slightly before reverting back to normal; even Radclyff appeared anxious, which causes the bipedal wolf to be awake. "And because the leader is a Drow, you're going to presume that it's a part of Pheha?" Jemwir inquires.

"That's the theory."

"Don't you think it's bizarre that a Drow would surround herself with a myriad of races that she is sworn enemies of instead of those in Pheha?"

Arven now utters, "That does seem odd, yes."

"Now it's remotely possible that the Phantom Brotherhood is a part of the Aletlar Dynasty trying to spark another war between Adoran. I highly doubt it."

"What's your idea, dad?"

"I don't have one. I'll have to perform my own investigation while I'm in town today."

"There is something you're thinking about. I saw your expression changed briefly at the first mention of the Phantom Brotherhood."

"Nothing can get past you, don't they, Sylfinas."

"Most of the time, they don't."

Jemeir sighs. "I heard about the Phantom Brotherhood years ago. All you need to know at this point is, I hope that it's a copycat organization."

"And if it's not?"

"We're in deep shit," Radclyff answers.

"When are you heading into town?"

"Right now, if all of you asked your questions." Nobody has more questions to ask currently. "Very well. I'll be heading off. You're more than welcome to stay here, Radclyff. You can take a nap and dispose of any trouble that may arise here."

Radclyff yawns. "I appreciate it, Jemeir." He closes his eyes, snores, and takes a nap on the chair.

"I'm coming with you, Jemeir," Kaera utters.

Jemeir extends one of his hands out like he's commanding a dog to stay."I highly suggest you stay here and recover from your injuries, Kaera."

"I feel fine already. I'm sure you know that Fenri recover more quickly than other races. Plus, I hate being in one place for a long time."

"Yes, indeed, your race rejuvenates more quickly, and I see you're up and moving more than the others. But I prefer you to stay here and help Radclyff man the fort while I'm away."

"But I can be your backup."

"I appreciate it, but I possess skills to avoid trouble, and if somehow they don't work, I can defend myself. You know now what I'm capable of when I need to fight, and that was a taste of what I can actually do. In addition, you must've sworn an oath to defend Arven and the others while they're in the process of escorting you back to Canir, and they're in this house right not." 

"I'm coming too," Merrick speaks.

"Oh no, you're not."

"Well, I need to return to my place for a bit because I need to check on it. I won't even be in your way, Jemeir."

"Where is your place at?"

"In the Lower East District close to Haggem Square."

Jemeir elevates his eyebrows. "You actually live there?"

"Yes."

"Then you and I will travel there first, and you can do your errand there. Then you need to find somewhere else to hang out while I'm investigating."

"Don't forget about me," Kaera utters.

"Why?" Jemeir asks.

"With Merrick going, I have to also since I promised to protect him, Arven, and Sylfinas while they are taking me back home. That's my part of the deal, and Merrick's more vulnerable compared to the rest. No offense, Merrick." Merrick shrugs it off.

Jemeir accepts her explanation. "Ok, then."

"That'll just leave Arven and me with Radclyff then."

"You two still appear banged up, so less movement, the better. Radclyff is a heavy sleeper, but he can still sense danger way before it arrives and be ready for it."

Radclyff snorts and talks in his sleep. "You ruined my pie. You assholes are going to die tonight."

Arven and Sylfinas look at their dad apprehensively. He reassures them. "I can assure you he will. He's been in a much deeper sleep and still was prepared before most of my adventuring buddies were. Take care now." He leaves along with Kaera and Merrick. 

Some time goes by before Arven and Sylfinas become bored while Radclyff is still catching up on his sleep. "I'm going to my room to get started on gearing up for our trip to Canir," Sylfinas spoke.

"I'll do that also."

Grunting as they stand up, the duo limp their way to their rooms. When Arven enters his room, he notices a bloodhawk with a paper attached to it standing outside his window. He opens it, and the bird flies in, landing on his shoulder. He takes the letter and gives the avian a tiny amount of copper to signal it can soar back. The note has the seal from the royal family of Adoran imprinted on it, a dragon breathing fire at a circle from below. The letter contains the following when Arven reads it.

To Arven Runestalker

I am pleased to announce that your application for the tryouts to join the Ebony Legion has been approved. You will need to be at the capital, Edgepoint, on Septham 14, Year 513 of the 4th Age. You are relieved of your duties till then unless war or civil unrest breaks out.

I look forward to seeing you and others giving all you got and proving your greatness to the kingdom.

King Dyral Noltain

There is a signature underneath the name. Arven couldn't contain himself and lets out a loud "Yes!". The injuries from last night are still present, and he follows with "Argh!".

Sylfinas appears in the doorway. "Something has gotten you all excited."

Arven ceases his celebration, turning hostile at his adopted sibling. "I thought I told you not to be in my room."

"I'm not actually in, and why do you still treat me like that?"

"Because."

"Because, why?"

"Just because."

"Well, I am tired of you being like this to me, so I'm going in." The Half-Elf enters under Arven's protest.

"I told you to get out of my room."

"I'm not until you tell me why you're always hostile towards me." Sylfinas sits on Arven's bed.

"I said, get out."

"No."

"You know that I can easily kick your ass."

"Tell me why you loathe me, and I'll leave. All I want is to know so I can mend whatever it is that I ruined."

"I've warned you."

Arven charges at Sylfinas, and the two begin to struggle. They hear glass shattering in Arven's room during their skirmish, and they pause to see what it is. Sylfinas finds a picture cracked all over, picking it up and perceiving a younger version of Arven next to an older gentleman in the photo. This is one of the infrequent times he notices Arven all happy and grinning. 

"What is going on between you two?" They turn around and behold Radclyff standing in the doorway. "Do I have to knock some sense into you? Or would you prefer your dad do it instead?"

"No, no. We're fine, Radclyff. Go back to your nap and continue dreaming about pie," Sylfinas replies.

"We're good," Arven responds.

"I'm not leaving this spot until you two honestly make up to each other." They both can see that Radclyff's a wall that's not going to budge a single inch. He growls during each of their attempts and erects his hackles.

Arven takes the picture from Sylfinas. "Give me that."

"Who's the other person with you? He doesn't look like dad."

"If it will get you to leave, that other person is my older brother, Ash. He's the reason why I'm in the military."

"Sounds like you admire him."

"I do."

"I still don't know why you refuse to treat me like an actual brother."

"It's simple. You're a replacement, a fragile and pacified replacement. Everything about you is the exact opposite of my brother."

"A replacement?"

"I found out he died on my birthday a while ago. Mom and dad started to put away memories of him somewhere, and not long after, they brought you in. I intend to carry on my brother's legacy and make sure his memory still lives on. Before you say anything, no, there is nothing you can do to make amends with me unless you break your code of pacifism."

"I won't do that."

"Figures."

"You'll see. I'll prove that I'm just as worthy of being your brother whether you care to admit it."

"You'll just be wasting your time, but knock yourself out."

"Are you two going to make up now, or am I going to make myself at home in this spot?" Radclyff inquires. "Ask my kids sometime in the future. They'll tell you how long I've actually gone during their disputes."

Arven begrudgingly apologizes. "Sorry, Sylfinas."

"Sorry, Arven."

"Now, you two shake hands," Radclyff orders. They both shake hands. "Now, Sylfinas, I need you to go to your room and write three things you like about Arven. Arven, I need you to do the same for Sylfinas. Then you'll exchange and read them. After that, we can do something exciting. Maybe consume some food." They take their time writing their list, and they swap. For Arven, Sylfinas puts down that he is physical, fearless, and loyal. For Sylfinas, Arven jots down intelligent, charismatic, and talented. Then the brothers and Radclyff head downstairs, play some games and eat food while waiting for Jemeir, Kaera, and Merrick to return.