Leaving Home

D. J. McNulty

Summer 2003

Shorehaven Palace

~325 After the Destruction of ShoreHold

The Courier Envoy tossed the last of her belongings into the saddlebag on the bed and turned to view the emptiness of her bedchamber. These had been her quarters for all but the first twenty of her two hundred winters. Now, like the rest of the court, she’d been ordered to pack up her belongings and get out. Rinka sighed and dropped into the large overstuffed chair in the corner beside the bed. The room was bare, stripped now of everything but the furniture, and that would be tossed onto the next wagon leaving for Wyn Eryi.

Wyn Eryi. She grimaced and ran a hand through her hair, making a wild mess of it, and not caring. Uncle Tidewild. She groaned and lay back in the chair, throwing her legs up to rest her feet on the edge of the bed. She’d written to her mother, when Grellia had announced the evacuation of the Palace, asking Kei to let her come to stay at Last Wood, but the Chieftess would have none of it. Her reply had been an emphatic “No. Go to your Uncle.”

That Kei believed the dark, depressing manor of Wyn Eryi was a better place for her daughter to be than Last Wood spoke volumes to Rinka of just how bad the anti-magic sentiment must have progressed there. She was not even allowed a short visit anymore. She had not been to see her mother in five winters, and the last visit had been short, an hour spent sitting together on the Gate platform when Rinka had brought official documents from Shorehaven for Last Wood’s Chieftess. The “official” mission had been cooked up by Grellia just so that Rinka would have the excuse to travel to the Great Forest. Kei had been sad, and she’d looked tired to Rinka’s eyes. The weight of her forced “captivity” in Last Wood, unable to Gate at the risk of her life, was dampening her mother’s naturally irascible nature. But her mother had sent her away, for her ‘own good’; the clan would not have tolerated her presence, she said, and Kei did not want to risk her daughter’s life simply to have her close for a few hours.

Her mother’s clan, for they had ceased to be her own clan long ago, was aware of Rinka’s position in Shorehaven; that alone had not caused them to ostracize her. What had brought that break with her birth clan had been magic. Marked as a Shadowrunner, with the “spirit infested” bag over her shoulder, Rinka had strolled into Last Wood to visit her mother, blissfully unaware of the clan’s contempt for magic, mages and magic users. She’d been excited to share the news of her post with Kei, who had been overjoyed to see her. The visit had gone steadily downhill after that, as word spread of the Chieftess’s “Mage” daughter in their midst. It didn’t matter to them that she wasn’t even an apprentice Mage; the mark of the Shadowrunners, bestowed at the Mage’s Guild in Everstand was enough to damn her. The truth wasn’t important; the taint of magic was on her, and that was enough. Soon, there were only a handful of the elves of Last Wood who would acknowledge Rinka’s presence.

When Rinka had left after that visit, she’d known that she didn’t belong with her mother’s people any longer. She’d written a tearful letter to her mother, denouncing any future claims due her through the chieftain’s line, deferring to her half-sister, who still lived in Last Wood. It had been Grellia’s shoulder Rinka had cried on when she returned to Shorehaven, not wishing to widen the rift between her parents any further by going to her father with her heartbreak. Shorehaven was her home ever after that visit.

Her father, who she’d been told was Tidewild’s best friend, had told her that her uncle had not always been the gruff, brusque, and angry elf she knew. Rinka’s opinion of her uncle was admittedly colored by her loyalty to her friend Wispen, whom she had known for almost her entire life. Wispen refused to speak of what had happened in the past at Wyn Eryi, but Rinka knew bits and pieces of the story, and from what she gathered, her friend and her uncle had been lovers, and it had ended badly.

Now she’d have to go live there, for an unspecified period of time. She sighed. At least Grellia would be there. She wondered what would happen when Wispen and Tide met again. That was what she was thinking on when a light tapping came on the door.

“Come in!” She called, looking up to see the cheery face of Hobard, one of the pages that Grellia employed in the palace for running messages. “Hello Hobard! What brings you to my door?” She said, swinging her feet down from the bed and standing.

“The Queen wishes to see you. She was in the corridor by the ballroom when she gave me the message.” Hobard said with a smile.

“Then I have a chance of catching her before she goes too far, eh?” Grellia had a habit of not staying in one place very long. Her pages were hard pressed to keep up with her to return messages.

“Maybe, Miss Rinka.” The boy said. He eyed the room as Rinka scooped up her saddle bags and followed him to the door. “Are you going too then?”

“Yes, little friend, I’m going too. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a very long time before I see Shorehaven again.” She said, shutting the door with one last peek to see if she’d forgotten anything.

“You wished to see me?” Rinka said as she cornered Grellia a few minutes later, in the deserted and empty ballroom.

Grellia was pacing. She turned with a start when Rinka spoke. She eyed the Courier, tousled auburn hair, dressed in riding clothes, ready to go at a moment’s notice, as always. “Yes, We did.” She held out both her hands to Taim’s daughter. With a smile, Rinka came forward, clasping the Queen’s hands warmly. After a moment, Grellia tipped her head and indicated a cushioned bench built into the wall. She kept hold of Rinka’s left hand and drew her along to the seat.

Once they were seated, Grellia faced Rinka and took a breath before saying. “You’re not going to Wyn Eryi with the others. I changed my mind.”

Rinka blinked in surprise, it was a very rare occasion for Grellia to slip into casual speech, or to drop the royal pronouns she’d been raised to use when speaking of herself. Thinking back quickly, Rinka could not remember the last time she’d heard Grellia refer to herself as “I”.

“Huh? But… It’s not that I’m not relieved, Grellia, I wasn’t looking forward to spending the winter snowed in with Uncle Grumpy Pants and the rest of the court, but if I may ask… why?”

Grellia squeezed Rinka’s hand and then stood, pacing again. “Wispen had more than just the single vision of which we informed the court, Rinka. In one, she saw this Palace in ruins, destroyed by a wall of water. ShoreHold’s ruins were in another vision, washed into the sea, as was the Summer Palace to the north. That is why Wyn Eryi was chosen for the evacuation, despite Tidewild’s vehement protests, it was the only safe place within my sphere of influence to send my people. Wispen saw our farms of Grangston flooded, the vineyards drowned. In another vision, my mother’s home was sucked into the sea floor, the Upper Islands and Reef City gone. Another showed the mountains of the Southern Duergens vanished, leaving nothing but a smoking hole in the ground. The cause of all somehow connected, but unknown. The Mages were unable to shed any light on this, and so I ordered the evacuation of my people from Shorehaven, the Summer Palace and Grangston, and sent word advising the sea elves, reef dwellers, and even the dwarves of the Southern Duergens to do the same.”

Openly staring, and more than slightly shocked, Rinka could only nod as she took in all Grellia was saying. She’d been to all the places mentioned, in the course of her duties. To know that they would be destroyed was disquieting, to say the least. “If all this was not disturbing enough…” Grellia sat beside Rinka once more “… she saw Mage’s Keep standing empty, with her Gate destroyed.”

At this Rinka interrupted, “Mage’s Keep? Surely not, no one has ever dared to attempt a breach of the Keep. So few know or believe it’s even there.” This news was unfathomable; even though Grellia was nodding that it was so.

“Wispen foresaw all this. I cannot change what she saw. I learned that a long time ago. Many think me foolish for putting such faith in a Seer, especially Wispen, given her past… misfortunes… but I trust the family I’ve chosen for myself: Taim, Togow, Wispen, Tidewild, Krin, Minxson Tracker… and that includes you, daughter of my heart.”

Before Rinka could reply, growing teary eyed at the rare show of affection from her Queen, who had been one of the few constants throughout her life, Grellia stood and moved away, Rinka saw her steel her back, force herself to stand straight, slipping back into her royal mannerisms for a moment, seeking comfort in formality. “You are going away, Rinka. For a great, long while, perhaps forever. When this devastation comes, your way will be difficult. The Shadowlands themselves may cease to be, and thus your path home will be gone. You cannot Shadowrun if the Paths no longer exist, all the Gates in all the realms will be useless if this comes to pass.”

Gulping in great breaths of air in an attempt to remain calm in the face of this news, Rinka sat silently, tears slowly slipping down her cheeks. Never to return to Shorehaven? Her father… Grellia… Wispen… home… gone from her? “Lost. You are saying I will be lost.” Rinka got to her feet and faced her Queen.

“Yes.”

With a falsely cheerful laugh, Rinka waved her hand and said, “Well then, there is no worry. I don’t get lost, remember?” Rinka tapped the side of her forehead. “Magic. The thing that got me banished from Last Wood. Magic locator, same thing that made me your perfect courier.” She was growing slightly hysterical and she knew it, she hugged herself to try to calm the nerves. “Unless you mean… dead? Did Wispen foresee my death, Grellia?”

Shaking her tawny head slowly, causing her numerous ringlets and braids to bob, Grellia said, “Wispen saw you among strangers, older, glamoured as a human, in mixed company of humans and fey. But alive. There is more. Something I could not tell Wispen… especially not Wispen…” Tailing off, as she was lost in thought, Grellia reached into the silken reticule tied at her waist and withdrew a piece of what appeared to be jewelry. She pressed it into Rinka’s hand. “She saw the return to power of someone equal to Hal’lee.”

With a gasp, Rinka shook her head. This was too much. “Grellia, why tell me? I’m not a warrior, hells, I can’t even carry a sword for fear of the damned pooka running me through with it. I’m not a Mage. I’m just a courier. I run messages. Now you say I will not even be able to do that for you, that I will be lost.”

Grellia smiled secretly and withdrew her hand, leaving the object pressed into Rinka’s palm. Too confused to examine it, Rinka ignored it for the moment. “That is precisely why I tell you this. I cannot stop Maridir’s return, it might even be she behind this systematic destruction of those who once brought her down. But I can see that ultimately, she cannot complete her quest.” Grellia reached out and tapped Rinka’s hand. “If you have this with you, so long as you are out of reach of Shorehaven, Maridir will not be able to succeed. It takes no strength, it takes no weapons, and it does not even take your magic.” Grellia gently tapped Rinka’s temple, mimicking the Courier’s earlier gesture. “It is a simple game of ‘Keep Away’… and so, you do not go to Wyn Eryi.”

“So, because I’m to be lost, you entrust me with something so valuable, to keep it away from this Maridir? What is it, Grellia, why not just destroy it?” Rinka examined the bit of tarnished silver in her hand. “Look, it’s been damaged, it’s not unbreakable.” She held it up.

“It cannot be destroyed, to do so would upset a careful balance. I do not have time or leave to tell you all of it. Perhaps when you return I will tell you the story, as it was told to me by my Grandsire. What you hold is but a piece of the greater whole. Half of what was entrusted to ShoreHold. I name you as Keeper of it, on ShoreHold’s behalf.”

At the mention of ShoreHold, Rinka’s ears perked up. “Where’s the rest of it?”

Grellia rolled her eyes, glanced around the room and then scooted over to sit beside Rinka once more. In a quiet voice she said, “There are other Keepers. This is but a fragment of the piece entrusted to Krin’s keeping. You’re of Krin’s line, this rightfully should go to you.”

Rinka started to pass the object back, shaking her head. “Then it should go to my sister, she can inherit it with the rest, I lay no claim to ShoreHold’s line, you know that Grellia.”

The Queen refused to take the broken bit of jewelry. “If it goes to her, Maridir will lay waste to Last Wood to get it, she’ll kill every living thing in the Great Forest to find this slip of silver. Do you want that on your conscience, Rinka? When you could have stopped it by simply sticking it in your pocket?”

“No. No, I suppose not. Have you told my father any of this?” Rinka asked, dropping the bit of silver into the pouch at her hip.

With a shake of her head, Grellia answered sadly, “I’ve told no one. My curse of not being able to mind-speak has made keeping secrets easy. If I told Taim, the knowledge could be learned from him, without his meaning to… I cannot let this get back to Wispen, not yet. The risk is too great. Wispen could easily pick it up from his mind. But by the time you return, all this will be in the past, and it will no longer matter. Wispen isn’t the only one with knowledge of the future, you know.”

With that, Grellia stood and pulled Rinka along after her. “Head for Rock Morrey. If for some reason, all does not happen as Wispen foresaw, wait there until summer and return. Oh, once there, beware of the fire lizards, they look pretty but they do more than bite. I will miss you, Rinka Tur.” Slipping back into her Queenly speech, Grellia whispered, “Go with Our blessing, and know that We love you.” Then she turned and swept regally out of the empty ballroom before her Courier could see the tears falling.

*   *   *

Not telling her father all that she knew was the most difficult secret she’d ever had to keep. She had never kept anything from him before; there had never been a need. Grellia had entrusted her with secrets, however, and she would not betray that trust.

She packed her horse, a simple task, as there was not much to pack, her personal belongings had already been sent ahead to Wyn Eryi. Once that was done, she rode around to the front of the Palace, where the Master at Arms was bellowing orders to the Guard, amidst the chaos of the final evacuation.

“Father!” Rinka called. When that didn’t get his attention, she mind-sent ~~Father, I’m leaving now.~~

He spun around and held a hand up, indicating she should wait. Then he waved over the Captain of the Guard, Hopeful Flowerfield, who took over directing the mass of courtiers, servants, Guards and soldiers milling around the great lawn. Taim jogged over and patted Rinka’s knee, smiling up at her. She choked back a sob as she looked down for what was possibly the last time at her sire, memorizing the lines of his face, the green of his eyes, the way his hair swept down over his eyebrow…”

“So soon? I thought you’d ride with Grellia tomorrow.” He said, slipping a hand around the horse’s bridle to hold the beast’s head still while he spoke to the rider. This particular mare had an intense dislike for the Arms Master and had nipped him on several occasions. Precisely why his daughter loved to choose her from the stables at every opportunity, and Taim knew it.

Rinka couldn’t meet his eyes, staring off into the crowd as she said, nonchalantly, “Oh, Her Majesty gave me a message to deliver first, I’ll meet up with you all… eventually.” She couldn’t resist sliding down from the saddle and throwing herself into Taim’s arms, hugging his tightly, clinging to his neck for a moment, breathing in his scent, and memorizing that as well. “Be well, Father. I love you.”

He tweaked her nose as she stepped back. “I love you too, you take care now, and don’t let that pooka get the better of you.” He indicated the bag slung around her shoulder.

She shook her head then accepted a boost back up into the saddle. She nudged the mare forward, towards the Gate Road. When she reached the Palace Gate, she turned to look one last time at the home she loved, at the kingdom she’d served faithfully. She waved to her father, who waved in return, too far away to see the tears she finally allowed to fall as she left Shorehaven.

*   *   *

The devestations came, as Wispen predicted it would. The realms were ravished, the Palace reduced to rubble, and Maridir was once more loose in the world.

As for Rinka, she made it as far as the Gate at Leptig Moor, and had passed from the Gate out onto the rock plains, heading for Rock Morrey. The sky had darkened, ominous clouds rolling across the sky, and a storm came up suddenly. Without shelter on the barren stony plain, Rinka was forced either to go onward in a downpour, or turn back and try to Gate to the alternate approach to Rock Morrey. Choosing the more cautious route, she’d returned and activated the Gate. She was about to enter, when the horse reared at a flash of sky fire, and she was thrown, sideways, into the arch’s glow.

Rinka’s first mistake was sitting up. Her head was pounding as if a hundred tiny pixies with very large hammers were taking turns slamming at the inner walls of it. She desperately clutched both hands to her temples, trying to still the throbbing.

After a few minutes, she was reassured that her head was actually not going to fall off her shoulders; it just felt that way.

She then made her second mistake of the day. She opened her eyes. The light, even diffused as it was through a canopy of green high above, was blindingly bright. Small shards of agony slashed through her head once more. She moaned, and squeezed her hands to her temples again, trying to ward off the pain.

After what seemed like hours, but was merely minutes, the ache subsided, and Rink could see again. Before her there were trees. She looked to her left and saw trees. She looked to her right and saw a pair of leafy feet peeking out beneath a homespun robe. She blinked… Still there… and definitely feet. Looking up, Rinka was startled to see a human.

She scuttled, crab-like, backwards a bit, unsure of the man’s intentions. From her new vantage point a few feet away, she could see that the man was smiling. It was a warm, genuine smile of welcome, and Rinka could see that it truly reached his eyes. She stood slowly, taking the man’s hand as he reached out to steady her. Looking up into his face, Rinka decided in that instant that this was a kind man. Wicked men did not have laugh lines emanating from their eyes in such a manner as this human.

“Thank you. I am Rinka Tur, courier to the Court of Shorehaven.” She glanced down and noticed that her colors were in tatters. She was making a bad first impression for her Queen, that was certain. Oh, well, it couldn’t be helped, now. “Where am I? And, if I might be so bold to ask… who are you?” She chewed her lip, hoping that this human spoke the common tongue.

“Well met, Rinka Tur.” She breathed a sigh of relief as he smiled once more and extended his hand in greeting to clasp hers. “I am Brother Bartholomew, and you are in my forest.”

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