“That weapon splits stone as well as
any other axe splits wood!” was the first thing Callista remembered Bastian
saying, once she had regained consciousness.
Stonesplitter, she thought. A
fitting name for so mighty a weapon.
She pushed herself up on her elbows,
then sank bank onto her back. Her head
pounded like a hammer striking an anvil.
She groaned in pain. Her broken
shield arm had been set in a splint, and her ribs were wrapped so tightly she
could hardly breathe.
“Yes, it will take some time for you
to be well enough to move, I think,” he said, musing as much to himself as to
the semi-conscious warrior. “But I will
tend to you until you are well.”
She drifted back into sleep filled
with dreams of the piles of treasure Bastian had begun sorting while she slowly
recovered.
After nearly three weeks, Callista
had healed enough to begin moving about.
Bastian had supplemented their trail rations with a stew of freshly
caught rabbit and wild leeks that had somehow managed to grow in the barren
environs outside of the Madusilith’s lair, and the fresh meat and vegetables had
helped her immeasurably.
When at last Bastian gauged she was strong
enough to ride, they packed up their camp.
Instead of mounting his horse, however, Bastian told her to follow him
back to the portal deep in the caverns.
Reaching into his enchanted satchel, he drew
forth a small, bit of obsidian shaped like a pyramid. He crossed the last length of the cavern and
reached out with it into the crevasse in the deepest corner. The inky, shimmering mist inside the aperture in
the wall began to solidify. As they
watched, it appeared as if a door had suddenly been opened, and beyond the
doorway stretched a sight unlike any she had seen before.
She saw a city, but . . . it was a city that
seemed to fold up in on itself. It was
as if she was looking at the inside of one of the tasty doughnuts her mother
would sometimes make for her on very special holidays, and the city had been
built on inside of that doughnut.
Bastian breathed deeply and sighed
contentedly. “At last!” he said.
“My home! And so I bid you
farewell, little orc. May your future be bright and filled with
many fortunes!”
He strode purposefully toward the
magical portal. Callista grabbed his arm
before he had gone too far.
“Wait!” she nearly shrieked. “Where are you going?”
“Why, I am going home. It has been so long, but I am sure that Siggertha
and her charge are still there at the Chapel, waiting!”
“What- through there? Are you serious?”
“As serious as ever,” he replied in
a merry voice. “But, wait! Ah, what was I thinking? I nearly forgot myself!”
The aasimar unslung his magic
satchel, replaced the obsidian key inside one of the side pouches, and held
it out to her. She took it uncertainly,
not entirely sure she understood.
“The deed to the freestead is
inside. I signed over ownership to you
before we left, and it was witnessed by a magistrate in Avang when we passed
through on our way here. Congratulations! With the treasure we have won, you
should have enough to build yourself a nice stone keep there, with plenty to
spare. I have already chosen a few nice
items for myself while you rested, so all the rest is yours. It is well earned!”
“But,... but,” she stammered trying
to find the right words. “You’re leaving?
Just like that?”
“Yes!”
She stood holding the satchel,
dumbfounded. “Where will I go?” she
asked, almost to herself.
“Why, you are now a wealthy young
landowner. You may go wherever, or do
whatever, you like!” he said, matter-of-factly. “You are a blooded
warrior. You have slain an infamous foe,
and won a mighty axe. Soon, you will
hold a fortified stronghold on the Vaasan steppe and command the nearby
countryside, as far as you can see. All
before the age of eighteen. How
extraordinary!”
“But I am in the middle of nowhere!”
she exclaimed. “If you leave, there will be no one, I will be here alone!”
“Aye, but you are a mighty
slayer. Are you afraid of this cavern?”
“No!”
“Are you afraid of the caribou we
passed on the way north?”
“Of course not!”
“If some highwayman attacked you on
the road east, what would happen?”
“I would strike off his head, and-!“
she caught herself. “I see what you are
doing, Bastian. I am not afraid of the
journey home. It’s just . . . “
“It’s just what, little orc?”
She threw her arms around him and
hugged the aasimar tightly, or as tightly as her mending frame would allow.
“I’m going to miss you, you
ridiculous fool!”
The swordmaster returned her embrace
fondly. “I will miss you, as well,
Callista, daughter of my dear friends Gorragh and Dazulka. You do them proud with your skill and your steadfastness.”
He held her out at arms’ length and
regarded her closely. “And now, I count
you as a friend, as well. I would gladly
fight at your side at any time, and in any place. Perhaps, by the time all is said
and done, we will fight once more against great odds, and for great glory. Only old Grimjaws knows for sure!”
He moved away from her toward the
slowly dimming portal. Before stepping
through he turned back to wave farewell.
“If you ever have need of me, return
to this place and use the key I have left behind. Lean into the portal and call for me, and I
will come.”
And with that Bastian the Sword
Saint stepped through the passage to Sigil, the City of Doors, and when he had
passed all the way through, it closed behind him. All that remained was the shimmering, inky
darkness of the closed portal.
Callista Armageddon slung the
satchel over her shoulder, and adjusted the silvered adamantine axe fastened at her
belt. Bastian had buried the least
portable treasure in a secret place he had shown her days ago. There was nothing left to do now but go out
to where the horses waited, saddled and ready to go.
As she emerged from the lair
entrance, the light of the midday sun covered her. She leaned back, enjoying the feeling of
warmth on her face, and breathed deeply.
She smiled to herself as she took her first steps, alone, into a
larger world.
When she was ready, she mounted her
horse, took up the reins of Bastian's mount, and kicked the animals into a
casual trot. There was much to consider,
and a great deal of time to do it.
She had already begun the floor plan
for a fortified tower in her mind before she had even made it out of the valley
of the Madusilith.
