Chapter 390: Rewards Under a Grim Sky

The elder witch floated to the nearby guest table, the cauldron following like a loyal familiar. The witches had gone quiet—all settling down for the ceremony—as were Alex and his companions.

“Let it never be said,” Blodeuwedd declared with deep pride in her voice, “that Witches of Crymlyn Swamp are bereft of gratitude.” The old witch and her cauldron hovered before her guests. “For that would make us no better than those you saved our people from.”

She looked over each of them. “We are not ones to amass stores of gold and silver like the great dragons of old, though a reasonable amount is useful for trade. But because of you, we now have more from the supplies we gained from the enemy than we can use for our needs.Their wealth is now our wealth and our wealth should be shared with those who made it possible.”

A crisp snap of her fingers, one spoken word, and the cauldron went into a frenzy of bubbling, smoking and shaking. Out popped heavy sacks that should have been dripping boiling liquid everywhere, yet were unexpectedly dry, and with a wave of her fingers, each one floated into the cupped hands of a guest.

Alex whistled, curious at the amount of weight he was holding, but for politeness sake, he controlled the urge to rip the ties open and look inside.

“Three hundred gold coins for each of you,” Blodeuwedd said, answering Alex’s unspoken question. “From all of us with our deepest gratitude. Use it to equip yourselves in future battles, or simply live in comfort. The choice is yours. However, the gift-giving isn’t finished yet.” Her grey eyes sparkled.

She raised her hands to the illusions and fairies above. “We witches do not stockpile coin like we do stores for winter, it has less value to our way of life, but we treasure and are rich in relations and magic. And so, we will give you a gift of each.”

With another wave of her hand, she summoned a collection of items from the pot. A group of rings—each made of roots twisted around each other in intricate knots—floated from the cauldron and into the waiting hands of Alex and his companions.

“These are the Rings of Safeland and they are only presented to those who have done us a great service. They will mould to the wearer’s finger and are made from the hearts and roots of our walking trees when they reach an age where they have grown ancient, and their spirits pass from the land. A hint of the essence that remains within our aeld tree, collected when it was in the twilight of its life, is woven into them too. When you wear your rings, you will find that weapons and attacks are hindered, that the bitterness of poor weather will affect you less, and that poisonous plants native to our swamp and other parts of Thameland will do you little harm. May they protect you well. And—”

She gestured to the pixies, who fluttered down in a swarm like migrating butterflies. Each one kissed the rings and briefly glowed like they were caught in moonlight. They giggled with glee, their laughter pealing like little bells, then flitted away, chasing each other into the sky.

“There it is friends,” Elder Blodeuwedd said. “The blessing of the fae now lays upon your rings. They will glow when you are near a fae gate and—if you should find yourselves in their realm by accident or on purpose—then the rings will show you to be friends with us, as we are friends with many fae. You will be guided and shown hospitality while you are in their world. In return, you must not curse or bring destruction to them. For if you do, it will reflect poorly on us.”

“I’ll make sure they act properly, mother,” Drestra said.

“I am sure you will,” the elder smiled, then turned back to the honoured guests. “Finally, we offer each of you a modest cache of potions.”

She called up various potion bottles, all bound together with vines, and floated each set into their guests’ hands.

“I understand that you are to fight these menaces in the future,” Elder Blodeuwedd said. “And so I give you these potions of mana expulsion. Without the proper painting techniques, their effectiveness is…muted, but I have taught Drestra to draw the symbols and she can teach you when you are ready to learn the skill. May these boons make your future journeys lighter, and please know that you are welcome within Crymlyn Village and the rest of the swamp any time.”

The small woman nodded to each of them, holding their eyes for a few breaths. “May our spirits and your deities help you as you have helped us.”

A shudder of irony went through Alex. ‘Let’s hope that he does,’ he thought. ‘Otherwise, we’re going to have major problems.

The celebration ended after hours of mingling, feasting, and toasting well into the evening and Alex and his companions gathered up their gear and gifts, exchanged farewells with those who they’d fought alongside, broke bread with, and now counted as friends. There were invitations to stay longer, and under better circumstances, staying in and exploring the magical village would have been welcome, but, divine mysteries were waiting for answers, and the Heroes in particular wanted to go looking for them.

And so they had gathered in their treehouse cottage, all packed up and ready to go.

“First, we shall return to camp and Alex, Theresa, Claygon and Brutus will take the teleportation circle back to campus,” the chancellor said. “And the three of you can continue on—and as per your request—I will teleport you in close proximity to the Traveller’s Cave then you can make your way from there,” he told the Heroes. “Are you sure that is what you want? We would gladly host you in the encampment while you rested for a time?”

“Thanks for the offer, chancellor,” Drestra said. “But it’s better if we get this taken care of right away. We only have a couple more days before we’re supposed to meet up with Merzhin, and honestly, this is something we have to do without him anywhere around.”

“Aye,” Cedric said. “S’an easy excuse t’make: we’ll just tell ‘im we had ta’ get ta’ Alric quick an’ make sure cultists an’ demons don’t got a backdoor ta’ Thameland through the Cave o’ the Traveller. Makes a good excuse that nobody’s gonna question an’ since we’ll be tellin’ the priests and him that gettin’ there woulda been too urgent ta’ waste precious time pickin’ ‘im up an’ explainin’ everythin’ t’him, they shouldn’t be sayin’ nothin’ t’us.”

“Let’s be honest, he’s going to question things anyway,” Hart pointed out. “But, all he can do is whine and complain and then get over it. If he’s right there, it’ll be a real problem if we find something that he can’t know about.”

Alex fought to keep his face straight. He hoped that—whatever they found—it could help him with his own search for information about the Traveller. If only there was a way to translate her book.

“Well, quite right, and it does make absolute sense to keep on with things and strike while the iron’s hot, as they say,” the chancellor agreed. “Very well, let’s be on our way, and I hope that your hunt will be fruitful and may we discover the truth in all of this.”

“Yeah,” Alex said as he and Theresa shook each of the Heroes’ hands. “Let’s hope you learn something. If you don’t, feel free to come to us when you can and we’ll try and put our heads together.”

“Aye…” Cedric said. “An’ I hope I gots this all sorted in m’head by then. It’s…a lot.”

“It is,” Theresa agreed, turning to Drestra.

The two women hugged each other.

“I hope you find Alric peaceful,” the huntress said.

“I’m not sure we’ll have to go there,” the Sage said. “We’re going to focus on the cave…but if we do, I hope so too.”

“Good hunting.” Alex offered.

“And to you too,” Hart said.

And with that, Baelin began to chant his words of power and the teleportation magic rose.

In a few breaths, Alex, Theresa, Brutus and Claygon were at the teleportation circle in the encampment, and Baelin was leaving the Heroes near the Cave of the Traveller.

“Do you wish you could tell Selina?” Theresa asked as she and Alex walked along campus to the insula.

“Oh, by the Traveller, I didn’t even consider that,” he groaned.

They had arrived on campus just a few minutes earlier with the cerberus padding ahead through the moonlight, his eyes shining, while the golem strode behind, gripping his new spear and wearing his new wounds.

First thing in the morning, he’d go to Shale’s, buy some clay, request a workstation and repair that damage. He hated seeing Claygon like that, and tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. ‘I wonder how long it’ll take?’

Selina was not going to be happy to see Claygon like this.

“In a way, I wish I could tell her,” he said. “But…on the other hand, I’m glad the oath magic stops me from telling anyone.”

“What do you mean?” his girlfriend asked.

“Well, learning what we did shook the two of us. It shook Cedric, it shook Drestra and Carey looked like she was almost destroyed…though I gotta admit, she pulled herself together more than I thought she could.”

“She’s braver than she thinks.” Theresa looked up at the moon. “She wouldn’t have come to see Ffion with us if she wasn’t. I know Selina’s brave too.”

“But she’s also young,” Alex said. “She prays to the Traveller and to Uldar. She believes in the Heroes and wants the dungeon cores gone. What happens if she starts questioning so much of what she’s always believed…when she’s so young?”

“Maybe it’s better if she is young,” Theresa countered. “She might be able to adapt better.”

He sighed. “Yeah, maybe…but in either case…we’re not allowed to tell. And…even if we were, I kinda think it’s better to tell when we have the whole truth. I’ve been going crazy with all the possibilities, and I don’t want her going through that too.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right there. Even mother and father are going to have a hard time with this, so I’d want to give them proper answers and foundation, not part truths that just makes them have a bunch of scary questions…like…”

She muttered something beneath her breath.

“What was that?” Alex asked.

“Like if we have to fight our own god,” she muttered.

“Oh…oh.” He winced. “Yeah that’s…that…that’s something I’ve been trying not to think about.”

“It’s a possibility,” Theresa gripped her swords. “Oreca defeated a demigod, and the Watchers have told me stories about gods being killed throughout history.”

“Well that’s sorta comforting, maybe,” he said. “Oh boy, well we don’t know if we’ll have to do that. Maybe our faith lets us control the cores for…I dunno, some other reason besides: ‘Uldar hates us and he wants us to suffer with the Ravener’.”

“Maybe,” she said, drawing the swords. The blades gleamed in the moonlight. “Well, either way, I think things are about to become a lot more dangerous for sure. And I need a breakthrough.”

“A breakthrough?” Alex asked.

She nodded. “My great-grandfather terrorized pirates across the seas with these swords. My grandfather used to tell stories about them cutting villains in half with a single stroke and so on, but I haven’t seen anything like that. I mean, they’re very good swords. I’ve never held any other weapons that are so balanced, I’ve never needed to sharpen them, and no matter what I strike, they don’t break, dull or chip. But, they only cut like regular swords do.”

Her frown deepened as she turned the blades. “Something’s missing. I’m missing something about them and I really need to figure that out or I'll never match the type of opponents we’ll be fighting.”

“Well.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “If there’s anyone who can figure them out, it’s you. You’re a badass, beautiful death machine, and right now, I have more faith in you, than I do my own damn god.”

She laughed bitterly, blushing at the same time. “I don't know if that's the nicest thing a guy’s ever said to me, but I’ll take it. What about you? How’re things going with third-tier spells?”

He frowned. “In terms of summoning spells? I think I’m just about there,” he said. “Hopefully, the next few days won’t involve anymore apocalyptic battles and maybe I’ll get a breakthrough soon myself. I’ll get back to practising tomorrow. Well, probably tonight, after a couple of hours of sleep.”

“Right.” She looked at Brutus and Claygon. “Well, we need to be ready for whatever comes next, no matter what it is.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve gotta get third-tier summoning spells soon then, and I’m gonna push hard to get them."