The Tower: Book One of the Legend of the Artificer

Chapter 15

The snow had become little more than patches of slush on the ground, and white flowers were beginning to sprout in the green field. The illusion had taken a week to get right, but it was holding, and the garden and fish farm were fully automated. A 'bag of holding', which was actually an 'aquarium of holding' that was really just a doorway between the farm and the opening, had been created, and the fish could now fly. Which may have been a mistake on his part, but mistakes were only happy accidents. Defenses were up, and the door was sealed and only able to be undone by him and him alone. Teacher had slowly devolved into a bundle of geriatric glee, which he couldn't fault it for, and Grim and Angel were finally returning from the coast. Why they hadn't used the portal slab was beyond him, but it was what it was.

Elmer had dropped by on a weekly basis to chat and trade, and he found he enjoyed her company quite a lot. Today was the day she would be meeting Grim and Angel at the tower, and for the strangest reason, he couldn't stop smiling as he laid in the grass and basked in the sun like a particularly smug cat.

"They're going to be here soon," Teacher commented mildly, and he hummed as he rolled onto his stomach and spread out like an eagle.

"I don't think she's told them I broke the enchantment," he remarked as he opened a lone eye to look at Teacher through the grass. "Are you finally going to speak to someone?"

"If I feel like it," Teacher replied, and he snorted.

"For as chatty as you are, I'd expect you to have more to say."

"There are a lot more talking holkinds locked in towers in this world than there are talking books able to download every aspect of written knowledge into a person's brain," Teacher said dryly. "I taught you eight alphabets and five spoken languages in approximately ten minutes. You can't blame me for being cautious."

"Mmm, well when you put it like that," he drawled and rolled back over to flop on his back and stare up at the sky. "I forgot how nice it was to roll in grass."

"You have it in your hair."

"It's a fashion statement."

"Have you chosen a name yet?" Teacher asked curiously, and he thought about it for a moment.

Names were important, but they were just markers of places in time. If you put too much stock in them, you might find yourself lost in the meaning. There was a weight to them, an expectation that they encompass everything you were at that moment in time, and everything you could be, everything you were meant to be. Once upon a time, his name had been love, until he learned love meant conditions, and he'd tossed it aside even as it burned him every time it was spoken. After that, it had meant fire, and then warrior, and then wild, and after that came king, if he remembered correctly, which he really didn't, and there had been a few nonsensical names tossed in the mix, and his eyes slipped shut as he considered it.

"All that really matters is that it sounds good, right?" he asked idly, and thought about a play he used to love, or rather an adaptation of it, a Seussified version he ran four different parts in his senior year of high school. If his drama partners could see him now...

"Well, not even that is a criteria," Teacher said wryly, and he snorted.

"It isn't a criteria if you're rich, maybe."

"You are rich, my budding zygote."

"And it's awful," he said flatly, but he was too lazy to care. "I don't know. I think I feel a bit bold, hm?"

"A bit too bold, if you ask me," Teacher harrumphed, and he laughed breathlessly.

"You have to be a little bold to be where I am now, considering where I started."

"My dear," Teacher said earnestly, "you have not even begun."

There was the sound of cracking branches and he looked up just barely enough to peer over his chest and take in the sight of three horses breaking out of the trees. Two men and one tiny enfield, and his lips turned up in a smile as Angel let out a colorful string of curses.

"Where is the damn tower?"

"It's here!" he called and picked up a rock to lazily chuck at the rippling enchantment. It soared through and vanished, and he propped himself up on his elbows to look at the approaching riders. "Did you have a good time playing on the beach without me?"

"We fought four different sea monsters and got in two different shipwrecks, you jealous--- Wait." Angel pulled up short, and looked between him and the seemingly clear air behind him, and then back at him. "Grim, I think my eyes are deceiving me, because that looks like Red on the ground."

"That's definitely Red in the grass," Grim grunted and leaned forward over the head of his horse to stare down at him beaming up at them. "That is Red not in the tower."

"Mhm. Been out of it since the first snow!"

"Then why the hell are you still here?" Grim demanded, and he let out a long suffering sigh.

"Because it was the first snow," he said, and clambered to his feet, scooped Teacher to his chest, and approached the three horses with long, deliberate strides. "Hey, Elmer."

"Good morning, Red!" she said cheerfully, with a shit eating grin, and Grim rounded on her.

"We have been riding for a full hour, Elmer. You didn't tell us for a full hour that we weren't going to have to get him out!"

"He wanted to surprise you two!"

"You could have just teleported in rather than put up with her scheming," he called as he slowly crossed the field.

"Portals are for emergencies, Red, no matter what Elmer thinks, and---"

"Nice to finally meet you," he said as he reached the three horses and held out a hand. Grim paused in confusion, and he smiled at him, big and bright with sharp teeth and a wrinkling nose.

"You can call me Tibalt, and I think you promised to teach me how to ride a horse."