The Liberation of the Mages Heart

Whispers of the Past - Part 1

„Shit!!!", Riftan slammed his fist in the table, tossing the note that a pigeon just transmitted onto the council table: „She left the monastery.", he pressed through gritted teeth, grabbing his cloak and heading for his horse: „I am looking for her." 

„Hold on, Sir Riftan. What is going on?", Ruth asked and added: „Probably I can help."

„I have a sister, her name is Belisent. She is a nun living in a monastery, serving the holy church and God. I have received a note from the monastery that she has chosen to leave and has departed already. They request tribute for her now. I'll pay for her of course, but I am deeply worried. What if something happens to her?!"

„You have a sister who is a nun?!", Riftan never failed to astonish the mage.

„You did not know?"

„How? I didn't even know that you had a sister."

„Let's hope that I still do have a sister..."

Ruth could tell that Riftan was panicking. He obviously cared deeply for his sister.

„I could cast a location spell - you are siblings at blood right?"

Riftan nodded.

„Good. Then all I need are a map of the seven kingdoms and a few drops of your blood."

***

Ruth located Belisent near Drachium and Riftan departed immediately taking the mage along with him.

As they arrived at the village of her whereabouts, they found themselves at a magnificent festival. Ruth and Riftan decided to split up, as the crowd of people made it impossible to wander the place together.

„She must be here somewhere.", Riftan muttered and started searching the crowd.

Ruth wandered in the opposite direction through a tapestry of colors and sounds. The air was thick with the fragrance of roasted meats and the laughter of joyous crowds. As he meandered through the bustling scene, his eyes were drawn to a clearing where a vibrant spectacle unfolded.

There, in the midst of the festivities, he beheld the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She moved with an ethereal grace, her lithe form adorned in colorful, flowing garments that caught the sunlight. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of confidence and allure as she prepared for an acrobatic performance that promised to captivate the gathering audience.

The festivalgoers hushed in anticipation, creating a momentary stillness that heightened the sense of wonder. Ruth found himself spellbound as the mysterious woman began her acrobatic dance, defying gravity with each graceful twist and turn. The crowd gasped and cheered, but Ruth's gaze remained fixed on her, enchanted by her skill and beauty.

In that fleeting moment, the world faded away, and Ruth felt as if he had stumbled upon a scene from a fantastical dream. The sorcerer, usually attuned to the arcane and mystical, was now entranced by the earthly magic of a captivating performer, adding a touch of enchantment to his own magical existence.

As the acrobatic performance reached its zenith, a fire-breather emerged, adding a mesmerizing element to the spectacle. Flames danced in rhythmic patterns, and the crowd marveled at the daring display.

However, in a sudden twist of fate, a gust of wind caught the flames, and a fiery tongue veered off course, grazing the delicate arm of the enchanting performer. Gasps rippled through the onlookers as the woman winced in pain, the magic of the moment disrupted by an unintended injury.

She gritted her teeth, bowed down to the audience, ending the show now quickly, and left the stage.

Ruth felt a surge of concern and empathy. Ignoring the lingering hesitations of the crowd, he stepped forward, following the beauty to her camp.

As he found the injured woman, she was carefully trying to cool the burning wound with cold water, running it down her arm. She was clearly in pain.

Ruth cleared his throat and spoke softly: "Hello, my name is Ruth. Please excuse the intrusion.", she jumped at the sudden approach eyeing him skeptically.

„Please allow me to mend the wound. My magic can bring swift relief to ease your pain.", he explained.

The festival's enchantment had not extended to trust, and she was reluctant to let a stranger, even one with mystical powers, into her vulnerable moment.

Undeterred, Ruth persisted, his sincerity evident in his eyes.

"I mean you no harm. Let me help," he urged, his words carrying the weight of genuine concern.

The woman, caught between the pain of her injury and the uncertainty of trust, faced a dilemma that would shape the course of their unfolding connection.

Her eyes reflecting a mix of pain and suspicion, regarded Ruth with a cautious intensity. The bustling festival around them seemed to fade into the background as she confronted the enigmatic sorcerer.

"What do you want in return?" she inquired, her voice a measured blend of curiosity and wariness. The question lingered in the air, a testament to a life where trust was earned through trials and guarded secrets.

Ruth, aware of the delicate dance unfolding between them, met her gaze earnestly.

"I seek nothing but to mend the hurt inflicted by chance," he replied, his words carrying a sincerity that resonated with a genuine desire to help.

As the woman pondered his response, the ambiance of the festival continued, though their exchange created a pocket of stillness amidst the revelry. The sorcerer, captivated not only by her beauty but by the resilience in her eyes, waited patiently for a verdict.

After a moment of contemplation, she cautiously extended her injured arm toward him. "Heal it, then," she said, her vulnerability momentarily eclipsing her guarded demeanor.

Ruth, with a gentle touch, channeled his restorative magic. The pain eased, and the fiery mark on her delicate arm began to fade. Yet, as the healing unfolded, the woman's scrutiny persisted.

"Why help a stranger without seeking something in return? What game is this?" she questioned, her skepticism a testament to the scars etched on her heart.

The sorcerer, unmoved by the suspicion, met her gaze once more. "Sometimes, kindness is its own reward," he replied, leaving an unspoken invitation for trust to blossom.

As the sorcerer's healing touch worked its magic, the woman felt not only the soothing of her injured arm but a subtle shift in the air—a softening of defenses, a connection sparking between two souls.

Her eyes, once guarded, now held a glimmer of gratitude and something more—a flicker of curiosity that danced with the enchantment of the night. The sorcerer, captivated by her vulnerability, met her gaze, finding a reflection of his own longing for connection.

"You're unlike anyone I've encountered," she confessed, her voice a tender whisper, revealing the delicate balance between skepticism and the stirring of something new. Ruth, sensing the unspoken, smiled, a gesture that spoke of understanding and shared vulnerabilities.

Her guarded demeanor began to yield to the warmth of the night, and a gentle smile graced her lips.

„Bell...?", a low voice belonging to a third party interrupted them, pulling them out of their moment.

The woman peered at the huge figure and her eyes widened in disbelief: „Rif?"

„Yeah...", the huge figure reached out his arms and she swiftly got up running towards him and hugging him tightly: „Rif! I'm so glad I finally found you!!"

„What do you mean? We've come to find you!", Riftan shook his head pulling away and looking her up and down: „You really matured, Bell. And I see you already acquainted Ruth, my dear friend and right hand man."