Ortai Legacy: Arrival

2.2 - Aftermath (L)

An officer escorted me through the check-out process, which left me barefoot on the sidewalk outside. I was about five seconds from devolving into sobs, but a softness at the edge of my mind gave me the strength to start walking.

[I don't suppose you remember how to get to James's house?] I asked. [Directions aren't exactly my forte.]

Mar'kost sighed. [I only had direct access to your memories last night because you were inebriated.]

I stopped. [So you don't know.]

He paused. [I was watching your trip here. Perhaps I can recall the route.]

[Perhaps?] I started walking again.

[Yes, perhaps. It's difficult to keep track of directions while looking through the eyes of someone riding a speeding vehicle on another planet.]

[Wait, you're an alien? Are you on Mars or something?]

[Turn left here.] He waited until I turned the corner before answering my question. [We call our planet 'Vangorn,' and I doubt it resides in the same solar system as yours.]

[Uh huh.] So he was a fantasy alien from another solar system. That made perfect sense. [How'd you contact me from so far away?]

[My ancestor made a heritage oath to Ortai Elarie Shiel, which linked our bloodlines using a telepathic Knight bond. My attempts to contact Ortai Shiel brought me to 'Liza Shiel-Smith.' Unfortunately, the bond will punish me if you die, so I can't ignore your plight.]

The disappointment in his tone made me feel a little bad for demanding his help, despite the fact that he was a figment of my imagination. [Maybe I can give you the power you were looking for.]

[Why would you bother?]

I didn't want to admit that I was afraid of driving away what was currently the only thing keeping me sane. [I don't want to make my subconscious grumpy, do I?]

He sent the mental equivalent of an eye-roll. [Very well, go ahead.]

[How do I do it?]

[How should I know? I'm a shifter, not an Ortai. Cross the street here.] As I followed his instructions, he added, [The transfer of power may happen of its own accord. Whether it does or not, I still intend to guide you home today—but I must insist you address me as a real person.]

My therapist would have a field day if I told her about this. [Okay, Mark.]

He shuddered. [My name is Mar'kost Vek Tivom.]

[You want me to say the full thing every time?]

[If you insist on shortening it, 'Mar'kost' is acceptable.]

[Got it, Mar'kost Vek Tivom. So, why'd our ancestors do the whole heritage oath thing?]

[The Ortai ruled Vangorn as deities for a thousand years, and my ancestor swore fealty to Shiel in exchange for protection from other Ortai that wished to eliminate them.]

[Why-]

[Supposedly, my ancestors committed a great offense against the Ortai in question. Their exact sin is debated. Turn left here.]

We continued walking and chatting about his world, which apparently had magic alongside such modern inventions as the camera and the automatic washing machine—though both were luxuries Mar'kost had never personally owned. My aching feet burned as the sun rose overhead. I switched to walking on grass, which held the unfortunate dangers of hidden rocks and dog poop.

Relief washed over me when my car finally came into view. I found my purse wedged under the back seat and took out my phone to let everyone know I was alright. As soon as I opened my texts to Olivia, my stomach sank. Several voice messages to her were marked as 'read' but left unanswered. I didn't remember sending those.