Rogue Legacy by Jeffrey L. Kohanek (snow like ashes .txt) 📕

Lyra recited her tale as they walked. “…but two days before the wedding, Duratti experienced another prophecy. He pleaded with me to leave the Tantarri and journey to Wayport alone. His vision lacked the details of why, only that the future of the Tantarri, of everyone, was at stake.”

Lyra’s gaze shifted to the sky, finding it bright blue in the east, yet still purple to the west. Birds tweeted from the leaf-covered trees that enveloped the road, serenading the couple on their journey north.

“During the trip, I fell into the cave I mentioned earlier. That’s where I discovered the glowing stone and the gold, along with another type of rock. Appearing dark and metallic, it ignited with green flame from the slightest spark. A landslide blocked the cave entrance, but I used the flammable rock to blow a hole in the cave and escape. I made it to Wayport a few days later.”

She turned toward Cal, finding him staring at her, listening intently to her tale.

“When I saw you with Harrington and his men, I knew why I needed to go to Wayport. Whether he knew it or not, Duratti sent me there to save you.”

“I must thank the man when I see him next.” Cal grinned. “I should find a way to thank you as well.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Lyra gave him a sly smile, and Cal chuckled.

His laugh faded to a sigh. “I am truly sorry about Tallinor. He seemed a good man and a good king. It troubles me that this young usurper has control of the throne, of how he might abuse it.”

“I’m afraid of what type of king Donte might be. The boy I knew was sweet and kind, but that appears to have been part of his charade.” Lyra shook her head. “I guess I never really knew him.”

“Betrayal is the most hurtful of crimes. I’m sorry that you had to endure it, even indirectly.” Cal took her hand and looked at it as he held it. “What’s with the bandage anyway?”

Lyra frowned. “A street rat cut my purse and made off with it. When I tried to grab him, he sliced my palm with his knife.”

“Would you like it healed?”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt much, and it will heal on its own soon. Save your magic for something more important.”

“I find it impossible to imagine something more important than you, Lyra.”

In spite of herself, Lyra blushed. “Well played. Keep it up, and you might yet have me wrapped about your finger.”

“If true, it would be my greatest magic.”

Lyra smiled and squeezed his hand, ignoring the soreness of her palm. The pain was a small price to pay.

“What about you, Cal? What became of you after you left me back in Sol Limar? How did you end up in a cell awaiting execution?”

Cal sighed, “The tale is long, yet is easily summed up. I left Kalimar, knowing that it would be years before Tallinor would allow Issal’s teachings to return to his country. Rather than try Vinacci, I opted to head west, toward the frontier. When I arrived in Wayport, it seemed a good place to resume my research. Using the gold provided by Tallinor for my part in thwarting The Hand’s scheme, I bought a building. With a small apartment at the back for me to live in, I converted the main section into a temple.”

“Things moved slowly, but I was eventually able to bring in followers, those who believed in Issal’s teachings and the power of his healing. Unfortunately, that same healing is what got me into trouble. Last week, a man came in with a child who had been in an accident. The boy’s arm had been torn off in a gear at the flourmill, and he had lost much blood. Fortunately, the man had wrapped the wound to slow the blood flow, and I was able to save the boy. However, the father brought the mangled arm in and demanded that I heal the boy back whole. I explained that it was impossible, but the man wouldn’t have it. He left unhappy, claiming that I had doomed the boy to a lesser life because of his missing limb. Three days later, the man returned with Harrington’s men and charged me with witchcraft, stating that I had conspired with demons to perform black magic, that I used my power to deceive others into following a false god. The men rushed me before I could use my magic, bound me in shackles, and hauled me to a jail cell. You saw me on the platform in the square the next day, presented to the citizens of Wayport as a warning to others who might attempt to use magic within the city.”

Lyra nodded. “They locked you back in the cell, and I showed up later that night.”

Cal nodded in return.

“But Harrington said that you killed a number of his guards and wounded others before they captured you.”

Cal shrugged. “Lies. I expect that he wanted me to appear more sinister, and the added drama of the story increased his leverage against me.”

Lyra considered Cal’s story, thinking about the horrible event that the boy endured. “I find it tragic that the boy’s father couldn’t appreciate the miracle of his son’s survival, despite the loss of a limb.”

“True,” Cal agreed. “However, I have faith in Issal’s greater plan. That series of events brought you back to me for a reason. In addition, the nature of Duratti’s prophecy proves that I still have important things to accomplish.” He smiled at her again. “Perhaps we are to accomplish them together.”

“There you go, again,” Lyra warned him. “At this rate, we’ll be married before the week is out.”