Two Masters (epic progression fantasy)

Chapter 6: An Army of Metal men

After a few hours of slow walking, they finally stumbled into Sothfæder. Quiet and somber voices performed the evening tea ceremony, and the air bore the faint smell of musky herbs and soothing minerals, much like the Cracks, but the tea-making process made the scent even stronger. Still, they weren't enough to calm Revin's nerves.

Revin passed the large window of one of the homes. Master Teradith faced him, standing across a table and pouring tea for his family. His eyes met Revin's, then turned to the limping monk at Revin's side. Teradith's eyes widened. He set the kettle down and ran out the door.

"Revin!" Teradith shouted. He stepped off his porch and approached, "What's going on here, is that serpent back?"

Revin shook his head, breathing hard.

Monks gathered to help, several arriving with a table, others talking in rushed voices, discussing what aid to offer first.

"Carefully," Revin said. The others took Ismander from his shoulder. "She... has a cut... on her side."

Revin sucked in a gasp. His body ached. He was used to trekking with a heavy pack and a mastersuit, but not with a person on top of that.

The monks moved with precision, gently laying Ismander on the table. Hirgen, the overseer of the Healing House, cutting away the bloody bandages with a practiced hand. She inspected the wound, then nodded. Pulling out another bandage.

Revin could see the gash, it seemed pretty deep. And since Hirgen had removed the bandages, blood oozed down her side, dripping into the ornate carved patterns set into the wood. A trail of blood following the winding swirl of a gust of wind.

The Hiriv monks paid no mind to the blood now staining the work of art. A monk manned each corner and lifted.

"Revin," Ismander said, her voice hoarse.

"Don't exert yourself," Hirgen said kindly.

"I will speak when I must!" Ismander almost shouted, causing several of the monks to jump. She hissed with a sharp intake of breath at the pain. She turned back to Revin. "Revin... I need... to speak to your father... Mindcall him now."

Revin, hesitating, looked at her in surprise. Mindspeaking was for intimate or sacred occasions. Not to be used on a whim. Something his father told him he should always respect. Revin hadn't even thought of using it when they were in the Cracks. Not that it would have made a difference, mindspeaking from that distance was difficult.

"Do it now boy!" Ismander's voice echoed in Revin's head, "The life of every monk on this island is at stake!"

Revin nodded. The other monks' bore frowns of concern. He reached out with his mind. It was like speaking to his animals, but one way. The only way you could tell if your message was received was if you got another message back, once you got a message, you could start to get a feel for the other person's location. He reached out first for his home. No response. He reached out to the Holy House and the upper tower. "Father, are you there?"

After only a moment, he got a response.

"What's wrong? What's happened? Are you hurt?"

"A monk named Ismander is here, she was injured by some... monsters. Says she must talk to you. She's hurt too."

His father's next words echoed with urgency in Revin's mind. "Ismander? I'm coming now."

Revin told Ismander what his father said. The monks continued heading for the Healing House, walking calmly and patiently. The sun had still not set, though it quickly approached the mountain-peaks, and it cast a discomforting red glow over the scene.