The Traveler: Part 1

Chapter 14

The tree just stood there. It didn't change. It didn't move. Iespeth stared at it. She was going to figure out this tree's secret, figure out what Lambert knew and she didn't. She paced around the tree so many times she lost count. She tried lightly kicking it. At some point her nose dripped a bit, so she wiped it with her hand and then cleaned it off on the tree. She stood there pondering, frustrated until she became rather cold. The mountain shadow had finally blocked the last bit of sunlight. That's it! She took off as fast as she could back to the fortress.

***

Avallac'h wiped the shards of the crystal he had just broken onto the floor with his fist in dissatisfaction. The fumes coming from the reaction singed his nostrils. He was running out of ideas. Had he been on the world of his home, he might have sought out the physical attention of Maondine, --his G'ymar or companion-- to clear his mind and alleviate his frustration. But had he been on the world of his home, he would have had access to those with the appropriate expertise and would be lacking this frustration. He hadn't planned to do any experiments while he was on the Continent. The hypothesis had dawned on him the moment he arrived, which was why he was unprepared. If there is time, he had thought.

The sage decided to retreat to his tower where he could peacefully play his flute. He was hungry and although the vampire had invited him to supper, he did not feel welcome and preferred not to disturb Zireael and her friends. As usual, he would slink downstairs and into the kitchen for sustenance after all had gone to bed. Sleep was something he needed very little of.

He made his way up the extensive staircase and into his room. He grabbed his wooden flute lying on the table near the balcony and went outside to play. It was long and smooth with intricate designs burnt into the bistered wood. To a layman they were beautiful designs, but to those with an enlightened eye, they were runes to improve the sound of the instrument. As he pressed the mouth piece to his lips, he noticed some movement in front of the castle. It was the emerald-eyed she-elf, the impostor. She had various sticks and other such simple items under her arm. It seemed as though she was dancing, circling around a small tree and making markings. Is she talking to herself? What is she up to?

***

"I'm gonna show him. I'm going to show that...that...that fucker!"

Iespeth had finished drawing the circle in the dirt around the base of the tree, every point equally distanced from the trunk. She put down the very straight stick she had just used and placed a long piece of twine on the ring around the tree. When the length reached the front part of the twine she carefully cut it with a small knife she had found in the kitchen. Iespeth began folding the twine in halves until it was about the length of her hand. She took a piece of charcoal and marked each fold. After she had put the twine back on the circle, she began gathering pebbles from nearby. She always picked up two that had a similar color and shape and shoved them in her pocket. Once they were full, she turned towards the castle, her eye drawn to balconies that she had once desired to look out from. There he was staring down upon her. That he-elf. That pompous, judgmental elven sage peering out from his tower down upon her.

It happened frequently that she caught him glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. Initially, she would look towards him to confirm that it was in fact her that he was looking at, at which point he would turn away. But lately she just ignored him. Let him look. He'll be gone in two weeks and I'll never have to see him again, she thought as she marched back to the keep.

When she arrived in the grand hall everyone had already taken their place and had begun eating the same thing that they had had for lunch.

"Where have you been?" Ciri asked as Iespeth grabbed a plate and sat down across from her.