A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

The trip up the escarpment separating Grilla from Okora took less than an hour. At the top, Trevor expected to see a panorama of orchards, but instead they plunged into a conifer forest. The road was well-traveled and they soon emerged into orchards that went on for miles.

The first village was a jumble of half-timbered buildings with wooden shingled roofs. The rough cobbles added to the atmosphere. Most travelers stopped at the first village, but Brother Yvan urged them forward.

“Tourists spend the night at that village and end up paying exorbitant prices for everything,” the cleric said.

They plunged back into the orchards after passing through a set of fields that ran around the village. It seemed that there were slivers of conifer forests between the apple orchards. After awhile, the smell of apples didn’t even register on Trevor. They stopped at a small town. It wasn’t as picturesque, but the place looked more like a place where the townspeople actually worked.

They chose one of the four inns on the main town square, and Trevor was glad to finish the long ride from Okora.

“Three days to cross Grilla,” Brother Yvan said as they clustered around the registration counter waiting for the innkeeper to arrive.

“Are we going to visit the king?” Lissa asked.

“No,” Brother Yvan said. “Tiralina is a short detour, but Cloove would be more than a week out of our way.”

The innkeeper showed up. “One night? Five nights? There is a festival this week.”

Brother Yvan smiled. “How many weeks a year are there festivals?”

A grin split the innkeeper’s face. “You have traveled through Grilla before?”

“A few times,” Brother Yvan said.

“Most weeks we have something going on if the weather is good, Dryden willing.”

“How is your chairman?” Brother Yvan asked.

“Nothing changes much in Grilla. We use all the land, make our products, and the chairman sits in his chalet overlooking Cloove valley watching it all happen.”

“No new taxes or strange rulings?”

The innkeeper shook his head. “We are all integral pieces of Grilla’s greatness as long as we can make our own piece of the apple pie, that is,” the innkeeper said, still grinning.

“One night. We are expected in Jiksara, and this lady,” Brother Yvan nodded to Lissa, “has an anxious father to visit.”

“Enjoy your stay. There are always things going on, so feel free to stay in our town as long as you want,” the innkeeper said.

Despite their fatigue, they all took a stroll through the well-lit streets of the little town. The festivities weren’t that energetic, Trevor thought, but it looked like whoever performed still put on a good show. There were plenty of travelers and townspeople enjoying themselves, but not the crushing crowds Trevor experienced in Bergartin.

Some of the events looked like they were staged, but that was all right with Trevor. He looked at all the people around him as entertainers. Everyone tried hard to make them enjoy themselves. It wasn’t a life Trevor would want, but he enjoyed the evening out more than the bed which ended his day.

They took the road southeast toward the border of Viksar and continued on, staying two more nights in Grilla. The towns were much the same, the only difference being the festival events differed slightly from place to place.

“Are you eager to see your father?” Reena asked Lissa at breakfast the last morning in Grilla.

Lissa nodded. “I’m also eager not to eat any apples for a few weeks.”

Trevor looked at her plate. Lissa had picked out the apple slices from a cabbage salad. He thought her goal would only be reached in Viksar as he bit into a thick, crispy slice of applewood-flavored bacon.

~

Trevor had never seen the skyline of Jiksara from the west before. He had expected the line of towers to bring back warm memories, but other than meeting Lissa and her father, there wasn’t anyone he had met in Jiksara who was a friend.

They road through the eastern gate and soon the buildings began to take on familiarity. They emerged in front of the palace, but they didn’t stop, even though Trevor knew Azar Zutterak now ruled Viksar. Trevor decided he would at least check to see if Win had visited Viksar’s capital recently, but their first destination was the main Dryden church where Seer Caspur lived.

Trevor could tell that Lissa was becoming more excited. This was home to her. Trevor was interested in how she would describe their adventures in Jarkan, Okora, and Brachia, including a little sliver of Fuleria.

They entered the church and were ushered into the seer’s office. This was a familiar room that carried positive memories for Trevor. He had enjoyed working with Custik, Glynna, and Volst and missed them by his side. The door opened and Seer Caspur went directly to his daughter.

“How we missed you!” Seer Caspur said.

He held his daughter at arm’s length. “You don’t look any different.”

“But I am, Father,” Lissa said. “Trevor and I have an understanding.”

Brother Yvan looked a little uncomfortable, but Lissa positively gleamed.

“I warned you, Yvan. My daughter is too impressionable.”

Trevor didn’t like the seer talking about Lissa like a possessive parent. “Then why did you let her go to Jarkan?”

Caspur looked at Brother Yvan and then at his daughter. “I didn’t want her to go, but Yvan…”

“I wouldn’t call it my fault,” Brother Yvan said. “She saved Trevor’s life multiple times.”

The Viksaran seer turned to Trevor. “You aren’t going by Desolation Boxster any longer?”

“There is a story to that. Perhaps we can talk of it over a meal.”

The seer took a few breaths and shook his head as if to clear it. He gave his daughter a lingering stare but sat in the chair behind his desk. “And you brought a handsome woman with you?” the seer said to Brother Yvan.

“This is