Previously on Saga of the Jewels…
The life of seventeen-year-old RYN, bookish son of a wealthy landowner, changes forever when his hometown is destroyed by the EMPIRE and everyone he has ever known is killed. He discovers that the Empire are seeking TWELVE PRIMEVAL JEWELS which grant the power to manipulate different elements, and that his father had been hiding the FIRE RUBY. Ryn sets out to take revenge on the Imperial General who killed his family and retrieve the Fire Ruby, and along the way meets NUTHEA the lightning-slinging princess, SAGAR the swaggering skypirate, ELRANN the tomboy engineer, CID the wizened old healer, and VISH the poppy-seed-addicted bounty hunter. Together the companions decide to find all of the Jewels in order to stop the EMPEROR from finding them first and taking over the world. They have thus far succeeded in retrieving the Fire Ruby, borne by Ryn, and the Lightning Crystal, borne by Nuthea. They have now come to the land of FARR where they intend to compete in a hand-to-hand fighting tournament in order to attempt to win its grand prize, the EARTH EMERALD…
EPISODE THIRTY-SEVEN: STRANGE TALES OF TWO STRANGERS
One night before the Tournament.
Cid eased himself back into the comfy cushioned chair in the corner of the manse’s dining area and sighed in relaxation.
“Ahhhh…”
He lifted the mug of tea that he had made for himself and inhaled deeply through his nose. Sweet and minty, with a hint of citrus. The Farrians were good at tea.
It was too hot to drink quite yet, so he just sat like that for a while with both his hands around the mug, letting it warm them, enjoying its fragrance.
Bliss.
He had certainly earned a day off. They had all been training hard at the direction of young man Vish–even Cid. Although he was not planning to fight in the tournament–nothing could appeal to him less–he had joined in with the others’ training for the sake of the exercise, and because he wanted to show willing and that he was one of the group. Although due to his age he had not been able to keep up to anything like the pace of the whippersnappers, the Shadowfinger had still put him through his own paces, and Cid had ached all over when he had woken up this morning. He had needed the break.
He stretched his legs out and drew in another deep breath of steaming tea.
It had been a good day off, too. He had spent it wandering the city with his Granddaughter and young man Ryn, looking in the different shops and visiting the different ornamental gardens, chatting about everything and nothing–the Jewels, their prospects in the upcoming tournament which would start tomorrow, where they would go next if they managed to secure the Earth Emerald. It had all been very pleasant.
And now, to have an evening to himself, just to sit and rest while everyone else was out, free for a while of their bickering and squabbling and the different attractions that simmered between them…it was as though all the children were out for the night and so he could enjoy himself in peace. No, he corrected himself, it was as though all the grandchildren were out for the night and so he could enjoy himself in peace.
“Heh,” he chuckled to himself. “Don’t forget just quite how old you are, old man Cid.”
He took a sip of the tea, now just about drinkable, and let it slide deliciously down his throat.
He tipped his head back in the chair and shut his eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the sweet taste and the comfort of relaxing in this chair, without having to think for a few moments about the quest, or the danger they were all in, or how the fate of Mid rested on their shoulders, or how to keep this band of younglings alive for another day, or the terrible things he knew they would have to do that he didn’t want to think about. He might even take a nap in this chair, or fall asleep early for the night...
Bliss, he thought again.
From across the manse, the sound of the front door bursting open. Commotion. Shouts. The voices of the two boys, arguing.
Oh no.
Cid opened his eyes and sat up straight.
Ryn and Sagar exploded into the dining room.
“Cid!” Ryn began at once, running up to him and launching into a manic report. “Nuthea and I went to see a play and there was a Jewel-wielder there possibly two and she told us not to make a scene but then Sagar was really really drunk and came to find us because he and Elrann found some other jewel-related person in a pub but then he went up on the stage and got in a fight so I had to go up too but then we had to give away that we had elemental powers and the lead actor got angry and attacked us and–!”
“Woah, woah!” Cid interrupted him, like he was soothing a spooked chocobo that he had lost control of. “Slow down, lad! One thing at a time! Tell me what’s happened, slowly.”
“Don’ lissshen to him!” said Sagar, almost falling over himself as he stumbled over to one of the chairs at the dining table and sat clumsily astride it, putting his arms out to steady himself and then draping himself over the table. “He’sh telling it wrong! There wash a man singing about the Jewelesh, like he knew where they all were, so we went to find the prinshesh and the pup an’ tell ‘em, but then there wash thish dragon, an’…”
The pirate ran out of steam, and now he did go over, his head lolling forward onto the table and hitting it with a smack, then stopping there.
A short pause, and he began to snore loudly.
Cid turned back to Ryn.
“You try again,” he said. “Slowly.”
“Um. Hello,” said a young female voice.
Standing in the doorway was a short girl in a pale green ballroom-dress, with deep green hair cut short into a fringe and a bob, and huge, glittering green eyes. Her skin was very pale indeed, and she was wringing her hands. She looked as though she had just been through some sort of trauma.
“Oh!” said Cid. “I didn’t notice you there. Hello, young lady. Please, come in, have some tea, take a chair!”
Cid poured the girl a drink from the stove while Ryn got her a chair to sit on. The girl took the tea gratefully and perched on the edge of the chair. She was trembling, Cid noticed, little ripples forming in the mug of tea, which she clutched tight like she was holding onto the hand of a protecting parent.
Definitely trauma, he thought with his Healer’s mind.
When she was settled, Cid sat down at the table too and bade Ryn do the same.
“Now,” he said to the boy over the sound of Sagar’s snoring. “Tell me slowly and carefully what has been happening and why you have brought back this poor young lady to the manse.”
“Well–” began Ryn.
The front door banged open again.
“Grandfather!” came Nuthea’s voice from the entry hall. “Grandfather, are you up? There’s some things I’ve got to tell you!”
She ran into the dining room, followed quickly by Elrann, followed by another newcomer: a man in a hooded grey traveller’s cloak with a lute-case slung over one shoulder, and the unusual contrast of dark skin and deep blue hair, which hung in thick locks down either side of his face.
An Umbarian, Cid thought. The Sapphire-keepers. This one is far from home…
“Hi, pops!” said Elrann cheerfully, taking her own seat at the table. “Some stuff’s been going down. Oh,” she said when she saw the green-haired girl, “spirit-girl! You made it! Welcome to the party.” She smiled with her eyes shut.
When Nuthea also saw the green-haired girl seated at the table, she said, “Ah, you managed to bring her back, Ryn. Well done! Are you okay?” she asked the girl.
“I’m f-fine,” stammered the girl. “Um…who are you?”
“I am Princess Nuthea Kaleutheanna of the Matriarchy of Manolia,” Nuthea announced proudly. “I identified that you were employing spirit projection in that play and asked my friend here if he could set up a conversation with you.”
“You mean the guy asleep over there who jumped onstage and attacked my dragon projection?”
Nuthea deflated a bit. “Um, no. That part wasn’t planned. I meant my friend Ryn here. The one who, er, attacked your colleague’s lion projection.”
Cid thought it best to interject here. “Excuse me, young ones, but could one of you please explain to me slowly and plainly what is going on, and why you have invited these two strangers back to our residence?”
“Right,” said both Ryn and Nuthea at the same time. They looked at each other. “I’ll explain,” they each said again simultaneously.
“You go,” said Ryn, ceding the floor at last to Nuthea.
“Alright,” she said, accepting without another word, “what’s happened is that–”
The front door banged again, cutting her off.
Who’s left? Cid thought. Oh yes. Young man Vish. At least he should have managed to keep himself out of trouble, without poppy seed.
There were no shouts or cries this time, just the slow thud of Vish’s footfall across the entry hall towards them.
But the footsteps were irregular, and heavier than usual. It sounded like he was staggering, like he might be injured.
Maybe that was why everyone stayed silent, listening to the erratic noise of the footsteps.
Vish appeared in the doorway, a framed black figure.
He just stood there for a moment, looking at all of them. He was breathing heavily, his loud, ragged breaths practically matching the volume of Sagar’s snoring, as he slumped against the doorjamb.
Vish fell forwards onto his front onto the floor, hitting it with a light thwap.
That was when Cid noticed the spotted trail of blood behind him, and the blood that was soaking out from him now onto the floor.
“He’s hurt!” Cid cried, leaping up immediately and rushing over to the fallen Shadowfinger. “Quick, boys, help me get him onto his back!”
Ryn and the newcomer Umbarian, whose name Cid didn’t even know yet, carefully pulled Vish over onto his back.
The Shadowfinger groaned as he went over, not with pain, but what sounded like…pleasure.
Oh no, thought Cid, not for the first time that evening, as he knelt next to Vish.
“What’s happened?” asked Nuthea from somewhere behind him. “Is he going to be alright?”
“Quiet,” Cid commanded irritably. “I’ll know in a moment.” He didn’t like snapping but he needed to concentrate.
The first thing he did was take off the Shadowfinger’s black gloves, which were slick with blood. There were no cuts or marks on the tan skin at all–it was smooth, delicate even. Just black discolouration at his fingertips—but that came from the poppy addiction. He examined the folds of Vish’s tunic. There was no sign of a wound or of blood leaking through it anywhere. He put a hand over Vish’s heart. It was beating regularly. Fast, granted. But regularly.
Cid looked at the Shadowfinger’s face. The man’s eyes were closed and the tautness of his cheeks indicated he was smiling underneath his head scarf. The Healer pulled back one of the man’s eyelids with a thumb, and his growing suspicions were confirmed. The pupil underneath was huge, dilated so big that it practically filled the whole of his eye with blackness. Vish giggled quietly in whatever state of consciousness he was in.
“He’s fine,” Cid pronounced, getting to his feet and shaking his head with disappointment. “This is not his blood; it’s someone else’s. Maybe several people’s. He’s not hurt. He’s just had a poppy hit, that’s all. An absolutely massive one, from the looks of things. Possibly several seeds at once.”
Shocked silence.
He sighed. And I thought that he had been making process.
“Um, who is that guy?” said the green-haired girl.
Cid turned. She had gotten up from the table and was standing as far away as possible from them all against the wall at the other end of the room, practically cowering.
“Oh, please don’t be alarmed, young lady,” Cid said. “This man is just an ex-Imperial bountyhunter who we enlisted to help us on our travels.”
“He’s a what?!” exclaimed the girl, standing up stick-straight and pushing herself even harder back against the wall. She looked as if she was about to run out of the room at any moment.
“Don’t worry,” Nuthea said, holding out her hands in a calming gesture, “it’s quite alright. He’s safe. He’s on our side. He’s saved our lives many times.”
The girl stared down at Vish, mouth curling in horror, then looked up at Nuthea. “Who are all of you?” she said. “I only came with him–” she pointed to Ryn–“because he rescued me from Zigfrid’s lion and because I can’t go back to the troupe now! Unless you explain who you all are and what you’re doing I’m getting out of here!”
“Yes,” spoke up the Umbarian with the lute. “I would very much like to know who all of you are and why you have invited me here as well.”
“Alright,” said Nuthea, “I’ll explain to the two of you, then we can explain to grandfather why we’ve invited you each here. But do come and sit down, please.”
Nuthea offered the girl her chair again and with some reluctance she crept back over and took it, reclaiming her tea, but her gaze kept darting back to Vish.
“Don’t worry about him,” Cid said in an effort to reassure her. “He will be out for a while. And he won’t harm any of us. He’s clearly used up his energy from the hit to walk back here. He is on our side.”
The girl’s lopsided grimace indicated she was not reassured in the least, but she stayed where she was for the moment.
Cid, Nuthea, Ryn, Elrann and the Umbarian all took seats at the rectangular wooden table too, joining the girl and the snoring Sagar. They left Vish on his back on the floor to sleep off his poppy hit.
“So who are you all?” asked the Umbarian. “And what are you doing staying in a government residence in the second-but-topmost level of Shun Pei?”
Nuthea began her explanation for the newcomers. “We’re a group of friends who are searching for some objects called the Twelve Primeval Jewels. We have two already, and four of us have elemental projection powers from touching different jewels.” Cid wouldn’t have led with that, though it sounded as though his travelling companions had practically revealed as much to these two newcomers already. But why?
Nuthea proceeded to work her way through the whole party and explain how she had met them and how they had ended up coming along on the search for the Jewels, beginning with her and Ryn meeting in the brig of an Imperial Airship, and ending with VIsh agreeing to work together with them in exchange for being kept in supply of poppy seed. She told them the story of how they had thus far managed to retrieve two Jewels and what they were doing in Farr in pursuit of a third.
When she had finished, she looked at the two newcomers as if expecting some sort of response. The Umbarian tapped his lips, looking thoughtful, but the green-haired girl just continued to stare blankly.
“Okaaay then…” the girl said eventually. “But what does any of this have to do with me?”
“Well, young lady,” said Nuthea, “—what is your name, by the way?”
“Riss,” said the green-haired girl.
“Well, young Riss, when I saw that dragon appear in the play you were in, so lifelike, I suspected Jewel-magic must be involved.”
The girl looked at the floor. “Ah. So you know.”
“Yes,” said Nuthea. “You have touched the Spirit Carnelian.”
Cid took in a sharp breath, but he tried to mask it.
The girl looked up at Nuthea, and she did look very much to Cid like a little girl then–a confused, lost, alone and afraid little girl–despite being a bit older than a child. “Is that what it’s called?”
“That is what my people call it,” said Nuthea, “and what I believe most peoples who possess knowledge of Jewel-lore call it. How did you come by it?”
The girl glanced around at all the members of the party in turn–those of them who were awake at least. She still sat tight-lipped, wide-eyed and pale. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you…” she said quietly.
“Try us,” Cid encouraged her gently. “You have heard some of our stories, and how unbelievable and outlandish those are. I think you will find it hard to surprise us.”
Riss drew in a quivering breath. “Well… okay then…” Her green eyes took on a far-away look as she began her story. “I am originally from Suria. My father died of an illness when I was small. My mother raised me by herself, but she struggled. Ever since I was little, I never really fitted in. Rather than joining in with everyone else’s games, I liked to go off by myself and play my own games in my imagination. I would go exploring in the woods and hills and valleys and make up my own stories. One day when I was twelve, I was out in the woods, and it was like I heard this voice whispering to me…”
Riss paused and came back to the room for a moment, biting her lip and glancing around at her audience. She looked as if she was afraid of saying something foolish.
“Go on,” Cid prompted her kindly. He had begun to suspect where this was going.
“This voice began whispering to me, just my name at first, and then it started to tell me to follow certain directions. So I followed it. It was like one of my imaginations, one of my stories had come to life. I followed it, and it led me to a particular tree. It was a really big one, an oak I think, with a huge thick trunk and lots of branches that spread into the branches of the other trees. A little way up in the trunk was a small hollowed-out hole, the kind that a squirrel or a bird might nest in. The voice told me to look inside it, so I did, and inside I found a small, smooth, orangey-brown jewel. I took it, and when I touched it I felt a surge of…energy go through me, and from that moment I was able to summon spirits.”
Quiet descended, punctuated only by a sleep-snort from Sagar.
Cid could see the tension in every line of Nuthea’s body, how she held her jaw tight, how she sat rigid on her chair. She must be exerting a huge amount of self-control not to burst out and ask the question that was surely also burning on her lips straight away.
“Riss…” his granddaughter addressed the girl slowly. “Do you still have the jewel?”
“No.”
Cid felt the disappointment settle on him like a cloak. He saw it settle on Nuthea too.
“Where is it?” Nuthea asked the girl.
“He has it.”
“Who?”
“Zigfrid.”
“That pompous lead actor from the play?” asked Ryn.
The girl nodded.
Nuthea didn’t quite prevent all of her frustration from leaking into her voice. “How did he come by it?” she asked.
The girl pulled her head back and pushed her chair away from the table a little, looking again as if she might run off at any moment. She must have sensed the trio’s frustration.
“Why does it matter?” she asked suspiciously. “What’s it to you?”
Cid stepped in again, speaking in as soothing tones as he could manage. “Do not worry, young lady; you are not in trouble–least of all with us. We are not angry with you, only at the situation. As my Granddaughter here has told you, we are searching for the Jewels, but not for our own gain. We are seeking to find them to protect the world from those who might use them for harm. That’s why we’re interested.”
The girl relaxed a little at that, but only a little. “Alright then…” She resumed her story. “Once I started summoning the spirits because of the stone, my village kicked me out. Even… even my own family didn’t want anything to do with me. They called me a witch, and a sorceress, and said that if I didn’t leave they would have to…” She paused, and bit her lip, not able to say whatever had been going to follow. “That was quite a few years ago,” she went on. “So I left. I set out on my own, and got by by myself living in the woods, calling the spirits to help me. But then one day I came upon a traveling troupe of Manyiro performers that were passing through. I followed them, and hid to watch one of their play rehearsals, and I was spellbound. I suddenly realised: this is what I want to do. These people got to make up stories and pretend to be in them, but they weren’t hated or kicked out for it–other people even loved them for it. They were even respected for it. I knew I had to join them. So I found the leader of the troupe and I showed him what I could do–summoning and commanding spirits…” She faltered again.
“And how did he respond?” prompted Cid again, though he had an inkling.
“He was impressed,” said Riss. “So impressed that he let me join the troupe straight away, seeing how spirit-summoning could make him and his performances even more famous. But he only let me join on one condition.”
“You had to tell him how you learned to summon the spirits and show him how to do it too,” guessed Ryn, just as Cid had.
The girl nodded. “Exactly. And after he found out about the jewel, he forced me to give it to him. I taught him how to summon spirits with it, and he got very good at it.”
“And that’s why he still has it,” said Nuthea.
“Yes…” said Riss, “but that’s not quite the whole of the story. After a while, some of the other actors in the troupe got jealous of my abilities, and wanted to know how I got them. Until tonight Zigfrid had never revealed to anybody else that he could do it too, you see. And he had sworn me to secrecy about the jewel, but when I told the others that I couldn’t tell them how I got my powers or show them how they worked, they got angry with me. They ganged up on me–it was like what happened in my village all over again. So I went to Zigfrid and told him that I wanted the jewel back, and to leave the troupe, but he wouldn’t give it to me, or let me. He told me that the jewel was his now, and that I had to stay in the troupe and summon the spirits for him so that we could keep up our reputation. I tried to call a spirit to fight him off and get back the jewel, but by that time he had grown too powerful at summoning himself. He summoned his lion and he…he pinned me down, and made me promise that I wouldn’t leave the troupe.”
The girl stopped her story again. Or maybe it had finished. Her bottom lip started to tremble.
Cid couldn’t help himself from wincing. What a horrible ordeal the girl had been through.
“It’s alright,” Nuthea said to her. “You’re safe now. Truly, you are among friends here. You can trust us. We won’t hurt you, and we won’t force you to stay with us like Zigfrid did. But you can stay with us if you like, for as long as you like, if you have nowhere else to go. You’ll be safe with us.”
“Thank you…” said Riss as she looked at the floor. A tear escaped down her pale cheek.
Cid looked away out of respect for the girl.
Uncomfortable silence.
“Fascinating,” said an unfamiliar, low, slightly musical voice.
Cid started. The Umbarian. He had almost forgotten there was a second stranger here with them as well–for a time all of his attention had been focused on Riss.
“What is?” asked Ryn.
“Your story, young lady,” the Umbarian said to Riss. He had a gentle, deep yet singsong voice. “It is extremely difficult to track down information about the Spirit Carnelian. There are not very many songs or tales about it, and the ones that do exist are very vague. But your story confirms that it is indeed real. I should very much like to see you summon a spirit sometime, if you will permit me a demonstration.”
The girl stiffened at that, and did not reply.
Cid’s hackles rose too.
“And who are you?” he asked the man. “Can someone please explain why this gentleman has been invited up here, too?”
“I think that’s my cue,” said Elrann from her place at the table, “seeing as pirate-man is out for the count.”
Sagar grunted in his sleep at Elrann’s mention of her nickname for him, murmured irritably for a bit, then went back to snoring peacefully.
“Yes,” said Cid, “do please explain, young lady Elrann.”
Elrann folded her arms. “Welp, pirate-man and I were out in a tavern having a few drinks when we heard music-man here singing a song while he played his lute. (That’s why I’m calling him music-man, you see–it’s sort of his defining characteristic and I can’t actually remember his name.) He sang a song that mentioned all of the Jewel-thingamies that we’re searching for, so when he finished pirate-man and I went up to him to talk to him. It turns out he knows loads about the Jewels. Like loads. So pirate-man thought we better introduce him to the rest of you, in case he can help us. Pirate-man was very drunk at this point, so he just sort of took off to go and find farmboy and princess-girl at their play, and music-man and I just sought of tagged along.”
Cid ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. He was instantly wary. Hadn’t Elrann and Sagar considered that this man might have purposes contrary to their own, that he might be working for the Empire, or someone else?
On the other hand, the Umbarians weren’t exactly known for their fealty to the Empire–far from it. In fact they had fought many wars to keep their northern borders secure against Morekemia, and the two nations were always fighting over the little strip of land that fell between them. Cid decided he would give this Umbarian a chance–for now. He could reprimand Elrann and Sagar for their lack of caution later.
Nuthea addressed the man. “And how did you come by all your knowledge of the Jewels, um…sorry, I don’t know your name either?”
The man flashed a toothy grin from underneath the hood of his cloak, which he still hadn’t taken off even though they were indoors. “I am called Quel,” he said.
“Pleased to meet you, Quel,” said Nuthea.
“A pleasure.” The lutisit began his own tale. In contrast to Riss, he seemed extremely comfortable telling it, as if he was used to regaling assembled audiences with stories, which if he was a traveling musician and bard Cid supposed he was. “As you may know, my people possess one of the Primeval Jewels–the Water Sapphire. I myself have the good fortune of being Sapphire-touched.”
Everyone sat up straighter at that.
Alright then, thought Cid, so he’s laying all his cards on the table straight away. That’s good.
“Woah, cool,” said Elrann. “I didn’t even know that!”
“May you show us?” said Nuthea.
“Of course,” said Quel. He looked around for a moment, then his gaze settled on Cid’s mug of tea. He flicked his fingers up in a subtle motion, and the tea rose up out of the mug, staying suspended in the air like a pale-green translucent snake. A few flourishes of his wrist, and the snake danced through a few twisting circular motions, before Quel flicked his fingers back down again and Cid’s tea re-deposited itself in the mug.
Cid looked down at his drink and frowned. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to drink it any more. Although it had probably gone cold long ago anyway.
Well, at least we know he’s not lying about being Sapphire-touched… Cid thought.
“That,” said Elrann. “Was. Awesome! It was like you had an invisible spoon! You’re a true spoony bard!” she added, referencing some joke Cid wasn’t in on.
The boy Ryn fidgeted in his chair, shifting his weight.
“Very impressive indeed!” said Nuthea. “So what brings you to Farr, Troubadour Quel?”
“My people possess the Water Sapphire, and we use it to hold our own against the Morekemians, who now have, from what I have heard, the Fire Ruby.”
Cid deliberately made sure he did not look at Ryn, but he saw Nuthea shoot the boy a glance. Silly girl.
“We have long known that the Maker created other Jewels, but since we were safe with the Sapphire and the world was in balance, we had no interest in them.”
“Hang on,” said Ryn, “what do you mean ‘the Maker’? Who is the Maker?”
“That’s what they call the One,” Nuthea informed him.
Ryn’s youthful face wrinkled up with perplexity. “Are they the same God?”
“Some say so,” said Nuthea. “Others disagree. We believe some different things about the One, and the Jewels, but we agree on lots too.”
“That is correct.” Quel nodded. “What we agree on is that the Maker created the Jewels, although we disagree on what will happen if they are all gathered together. I believe that Manolians think that tremendous power will be bestowed upon the gatherer, do you not?”
“That’s right,” said Nuthea.
“Whereas we believe that when they are all gathered together by someone with good and pure intentions they will provide the key to rescuing Mid from a great danger and evil.”
And you’re likely both right, thought Cid, though he didn’t say it. But there’s more to it than that…
“So what do you think will happen if someone with dangerous and evil intentions gathers them all together?” asked Ryn. A pertinent question.
“Yeah,” chipped in Elrann, “like, say, the Emperor of Morekemia?”
A highly pertinent question.
Quel rubbed his upper lip, then patted it. “I am not sure,” he said at length. “Though I would rather we did not have to find out.”
“Well, we’re definitely in agreement about that,” said Nuthea. “Lady Elrann said that you sang of many things regarding the Jewels.”
“Yup,” confirmed Elrann. “He sang a song about all of them, even saying where some of them are.”
“Tell us,” said Nuthea eagerly. “How did you come to have such knowledge?”
The newcomer did not answer straight away, but merely looked at Nuthea, then around at Ryn, Elrann, and Cid himself, passing his fingers back and forth over his lips again, as if he was sizing them up, pondering how much to reveal.
Tell us everything, Cid silently implored him.
The stranger’s gaze came to rest on Riss, the summoner girl, who now sat still, her feet drawn up onto her chair so she could clutch her knees. She had told all, eventually. Or so we hope.
The stranger patted his lips, and appeared to reach a decision.
“Some years ago,” said Quel, “we began to hear rumours that Morekemia were sending out agents into the world to try to collect information on the whereabouts of the Jewels. It appeared that the Emperor had realised that they were not just an obscure legend, but that they were real. Some such agents came to Umbar, though fortunately we were able to identify them and root them out before they discovered too much. They managed to confirm that we were in possession of the Water Sapphire, which some people knew anyway, but they didn’t find out anything about where it was kept. Soon after this begun to happen, the Chief of my tribe sent me out into the world to gather knowledge of the Jewels myself. It had been my ambition to become a wandering bard anyway, and I was soon to embark upon my travels, but this mission gave me an extra purpose to travel for. Over the last ten years I have wandered all over Mid, paying my way by learning and singing songs, and spoken to people, getting to know the local cultures and slowly gathering information about the Jewels. I’ve been to Morekemia itself. I’ve been all round Dokan. I’ve been to the Velt. I’ve been to Frikia. I’ve been to Rakali. I even travelled the Waste, for a brief time. And I am nearly due to return to report back to the chief of my people what I have learned.”
“So why did you come to Farr?” Nuthea asked him. “Many people know that the Earth Emerald is here already.”
Quel dipped his head, flashing his smile again for the clever question. “Yes, princess–or should I call you my ‘cousin’ in the faith? That is true. But the Crossroads of the East is a fantastic place to meet travellers from all over Mid. In any case, I have been to many other places, but few are so fruitful for learning rumours and gossip, and for encountering people from other lands, as Shun Pei. I have managed to fill in a few gaps in my knowledge of the Jewels since I came here. It’s also a very good place to hitch a ride home. Sooner or later there will be a ship flying for Umbar, or somewhere near it, and I will make my way onto it to return and report back. In fact, I need to get back there as soon as possible.”
“Why?” pushed Ryn.
“After my stay in Farr I had originally planned to return from here to Dokan. The one Jewel of which knowledge had eluded me throughout my journey for a long time was the Fire Jewel.”
Well done, Orvis, thought Cid. You did your job well.
“But then a few months ago I heard word that the Empire had found the Fire Jewel and were putting it to use. My mission became more urgent. Now that I have completed my search for as much knowledge of the Jewels as I have been able to gather, with the missing piece filled in, I seek passage home.”
“Why are you telling us all this?” said Ryn, the bearer of the Fire Ruby, unbeknownst to the newcomer. Or does he know?
“Well,” said Quel, “you say you have two of the Jewels. If you are seeking to protect them from the Empire, we share a goal.” The lutist held out his hands in sincere imploration. “Will you come with me to Umbar, to lend us the use of the Jewels you have, and keep them safe?”
The party were quiet.
Cid knew what he thought, but he did not want to take charge. He watched his granddaughter and the boy to see how they would respond.
“Maybe…” Ryn said after a moment. “I think we had better pay this Umbar a place visit in any case, and speak with your people’s rulers, but maybe only after we’ve got the Earth Emerald and the…Spirit Carnelian. What d’you think, Nuthea?”
The princess, who had been staring off at nothing for a moment, came back to herself.
“What? Oh. Yes. Completely. We must pay a visit to Umbar as soon as we can. We will be needing to obtain the Water Sapphire, after all.”
Quel bristled a little at that, but apparently it did not irk him enough to draw a protest.
Unexpectedly, Riss, the new girl, spoke up. “Why do you sing about the Jewels?” she said to Quel. “Isn’t that dangerous? Doesn’t it attract attention to you, and to them?”
The lutist shrugged in his cloak. “Perhaps a little,” he said. “But it’s not as though my song gives very much detail away. It’s quite cryptic, really. People don’t pay too much attention to the words of songs sung in taverns, anyhow. And actually I’ve found my song has just enough about the Jewels to be a very good way of flushing out other people who know about them, or who are seeking them… as it did tonight.”
Quel smiled, and his blue eyes glittered.
“Yeah,” said Elrann, “’s’pretty crazy how Sagar and I ended up in the same pub as you, and you chose to play that song, and we heard it and all. This sort of thing keeps on happening…”
“It is the Will of the One,” Nuthea said confidently. “The One must have brought us together.”
“It is the Will of the One,” Cid agreed, confident of this too.
“As the Maker plans it,” said Quel, the Umbarian version of the phrase.
Pregnant silence.
The party all waited expectantly for the voice of scepticism.
It did not come.
“Oh yeah,” Ryn said, “that’s right, Sagar’s asleep. Well, basically, I think you guys can join up with us.” He nodded to Riss and Quel briefly in turn. “Welcome to our team.”
“Your…team?” said Quel.
“Our team?” said Elrann.
“Well, yeah,’ said Ryn, rubbing his arm. “We are basically a kind of team, aren’t we? We team up in finding the Jewels. That’s not so difficult to get your head around, is it?”
“We need some kind of team name, then,” said Elrann. “What’s our name?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll work on it.”
“So what is your plan of action?” asked Quel. “Our plan of action…” he corrected himself, trying out the alternative pronoun with some hesitation. “I need to return to Umbar as quickly as possible in order to tell my people what I have found out about the Jewels, and you can discuss keeping them safe along with the Water Sapphire with my Chieftain there.”
“You need to get the Carnelian first before you do that,” said Riss.
“Actually,” said Nuthea, “our first priority is the Earth Emerald, and the tournament.”
“The tournament?” asked Quel. “The one that’s being held in Tenkachi from tomorrow? The one that everyone’s talking about?”
“Yes,” said Nuthea. “The Governor of Farr hasn’t made this public yet, but the grand prize for the winner of the tournament is going to be the Earth Emerald. We are entering in order to win it. Winning it is our first priority. Then we will worry about finding a way to claim back the Spirit Carnelian from Zigfrid, and visiting Umbar to discuss how best to keep the Water Sapphire safe.”
“Alrighty then,” said Elrann. “So all we have to do is beat a load of people who fight as part of their religion in a hand to hand combat tournament, steal a rock from a crazy actor who can make giant lions appear with his mind, and persuade Quel’s people who have guarded the Water Sapphire for centuries as their most precious treasure that actually they’re better off handing it over to us. Oh, and then find the remaining seven Jewels-thingamies.”
“Exactly,” said Nuthea.
“This is gonna be a piece of cake,” said Elrann.
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