The Hybrid: Chasing Destiny (Chp1:Ep5)
Chapter 1
Episode 5 - The Untouchable Exile
Minervin’s cabin was nestled away between small hills
and overlooked the half-frozen waters of the Calm Ocean. The view provided
solace for the ageing wizard, and Ava would often find him strolling along the
coast and gazing at the watery horizon when he was feeling up to bracing the
cold. But it was not the only reason why Minervin erected his cabin in this
spot. The hills that surrounded the cabin obscured much of it from the views of
both The Outpost and Draugr Forest.
Men
tend to worry a throbbing sore they can see, Ava, more so than one they cannot.
Out of their sight, out of their minds.
Throbbing sore it may be to anyone who lived at The
Outpost, but Minervin’s cabin had better amenities than the dwellings there.
Magic goes a long way here, even if said magic comes from a cursed wizard.
The cabin had three outlying buildings. A barn to
house Longhorn, Bluebeard and a cow named Princess, a smaller building they used
for storage, and a greenhouse. There was no smoke coming from the cabin’s
chimney when Ava finally led the cattle through the meandering path to
Minervin’s Nook. Slivers of trepidation slithered down her spine, but she
quashed them. Minervin was strong, a wizard. He would never allow himself to
die from some silly illness.
Princess looked up from the small stack of feed before
her and mooed. She had the same long, livid coat as her male counterparts but was
slightly smaller with shorter horns. The cow was their main source of milk when
she ate well. She greeted Ava by poking her in the belly with her snout but
snorted in disgruntlement when she got a whiff of the beast beneath her tunic.
Ava gave her a scratch on the head before the cow left the barn to wander off
outside, and Longhorn and Bluebeard followed when she untied them. Minervin
must not have let the poor cow out for some time if the state of the barn was
any indication. Ava cleaned it up, emptied a bag of feed and refilled the water
trough.
Ava skinned and salted her last remaining game and
hung them with the fish in the storage shed, leaving their hides to dry outside.
Minervin had neglected the greenhouse as well. There was a chill in the air and
the plants were wilting as frost nipped at the tips of their leaves.
Maintaining the garden was a huge drain on Minervin’s
magical reserves, and yet he would rather expend the reserves on it than use them
to regain his health. And now he would
not need to sacrifice himself for it any longer. She walked to the centre
of the garden and opened the small container. As if sensing its purpose, the
Illuminaris floated from it and into the air, stopping midway between the
ground and the roof. It burned brighter as it levitated in that spot and the
temperature in the greenhouse rose slowly.
Finally satisfied that they might just survive the
snowy season without starving, Ava entered the cabin she shared with Minervin.
The air inside the cabin was colder than the
greenhouse. The fire pit in the centre was burned down to fine ash and had not
been rekindled for quite a while.
“Minervin, I have returned,” she told the big bundle
of furs atop Minervin’s bed and set about stacking wood and hay in the fire
pit. “Minervin,” Ava called again when only silence greeted her. “Minervin!”
Ava’s voice rose in pitch as she rushed to his bed.
She was startled when Minervin burst upright in his
bed in an explosion of fur and blankets. He looked around the cabin and then at
her in wary confusion. Lines from the bedding were etched onto his cheeks and
his normally curly, short grey hair was flattened and mussed on the side. He
looked pale and feverish, and his grey eyes held untold pain.
“Ava! Why in Holden’s name are you yelling so? You
have disturbed me from a good dream,” he croaked miserably.
His attention quickly turned to his bed covers and he searched
between them with an ill-concealed alarm. Ava reached over to clutch one of
Minervin’s unearthed handkerchiefs. He tried to grab it from her but in his weakened
state, he was no match and gave up.
“Your cough is getting worse,” Ava pointed out when she
saw the dried blood on it. She collected the bloodied rags and threw them all
into the fire pit. “Here.”
She handed him a water skin.
“You have found it?” he asked, raised a dubious brow
and took a drink from it.
“I told you I would.” Ava beamed, but her smile
faltered when a coughing fit overcame him. Ava took the skin from him and
patted him on the back until his body calmed. “I was sure the waters would cure
your ripping cough. Maybe I was mistaken about what it was.” Crastius would be in a massive rage if he
found out the water was not what I said it was.
“I would not fret about it, child. At the bottom of
the world, we are too far south of the mountain for its waters to remain pure.
Besides, these waters cannot cleanse a curse from a spirit and my illness is no
less than that.”
“Maybe if you tell me what causes it, I could find the
proper treatment. You are nobler than all the Outpost combined, yet they remain
fine while you are cursed and treated like dirt.” Ava pleaded, her eyes blazing
indignantly.
“Bah, it helps them sleep better knowing there is
someone out there far worse than them. Pay them no mind. Did – those people say
something to you?” he replied, his shoulders drooping as if he carried a great
weight upon them.
“No. It’s just not fair,” Ava mumbled sulkily.
“It is, Ava, ladies always use language correctly and do
not mutter when speaking. Eloquence is key. Let it rest. I would not tell you
if you used your last breath to ask it of me. Now help me up,” he ordered,
pushing the rest of his furs from his body. Ava supported his weight as he got
to his feet and gave him his walking stick. He waved a hand, twisting it
slightly as he did and fire flickered from his fingertips, springing into the pit.
The wood and hay she placed in it instantly ignited and calmed in a slow burn.
“It is too cold in here.” He said, rubbing his hands. “I must have slept longer
than I intended to. Fetch water to fill the tub.”
“You want to bathe now?”
“No, you want to bathe now. How long since you have
washed, child? You smell something fierce.”
Ava’s face heated in mortification. “I cleaned the
important bits. There is no place to wash up in the forest unless you want a
quick death.”
Minervin clucked and shook his head at her excuse.
“You had fire and water, and my charms would have protected your camp under
sudden attack. You had no reason not to wash up. Ladies should always keep
clean.”
“Well, the people at The Outpost did not find anything
wrong with my smell and they certainly do not see me as a lady either. I am
barely a girl for them,” Ava pouted, petulant.
“Of course, they would not! All of them smell worse
than you do. And I have seen how the men there look at you to know that you are
woman aplenty for them. Now stop arguing with me and go get water. And get
enough for a separate tub so that I can soak your clothes.”
Ava smiled when she left with a bucket. The Panacean
waters must have helped more than she thought if he was willing to soak her
clothes.
It took Ava several trips to the stream to fill the
tubs to Minervin’s liking. He heated it by dipping his hand into the ice water
and leaving her to see what she accomplished around their plot of land.
She was still in the tub, struggling to comb the knots
from her hair, when he returned a little while later and quickly averted his
gaze. His behaviour always amused her, since he had seen her naked more times
than she could recall.
He went to sit with his back to her at the fire pit,
the few things she left in the wagon floating in the air behind him. He put the
chest of arrows and her new leather armour in the cabin’s corner with just a
wave of a finger and then called forth a pot filled with bread, meat, and an
assortment of crops, setting about making a meal.
“Should you be using that much magic so soon after recovering?”
“Well, I certainly was not going to break my back
carrying that chest over here instead, but your concern is duly noted. Your
hunt must have gone well if you came back with so much.”
“A little too well, if you ask me,” Ava quipped
absent-mindedly, wincing in pain when she came upon a rather troublesome knot.
“What do you mean by that?” Minervin stilled in his
work but dared not look at her. And Ava knew he wanted to. Minervin always told
her that he could read the truth in a man’s words by watching the way his face
moved when he said them.
“Too many creatures are migrating north of the stream.
They are living on top of each other. There were even creatures lurking there
that I had never seen before.” Ava’s attention shifted to the beast, leaning
over the rim of her tub, and dipping a paw into her bath water before licking the
wetness off. The creature completely escaped Minervin’s notice when he came back
into the cabin. But he squinted and frowned down at it now when he turned to
enquire about her meaning. “Do you know what it is?”
Minervin got up, wrapped his brown robe around him and
clutched the beast by the scruff of its neck. He inspected it, front and back
in the air, then sat down and examined it in his lap more thoroughly. The beast
did not appreciate the prodding and probing, and it hissed and spat in
disgruntlement the entire time.
“Yes. I know what it is, though they were thought to
have gone extinct at the beginning of the third era. It is a sabre cat; their
species inhabited every land known to man until they were hunted to the last. Now,
here in this long-forgotten wasteland, they re-emerge from the pages of
history. This one is a male. The mothers were known to be viciously protective
of their cubs. How did you get this one away from her?”
The cub jumped from Minervin’s lap and shook his coat,
plodding to her as she got up from the tub and wrapped herself in a drying robe.
He watched Minervin warily from behind her leg.
“I did not.”
Ava described the scene she witnessed in the forest to
him and how the beast came into her care, while Minervin coaxed the beast out
by running the end of his staff along the floor before him.
“There is a threat growing in the southern forest. I
know it, Minervin. I felt it breathing down my neck on my last few days there.
Have you not felt anything?”
Minervin halted in his play with the beast, sudden
fear filling his eyes. “I have always felt a forbidding in that forest, but I
have been too weak these past few days to notice any change in that.”
“Maybe I was being silly. That part of the forest has
not frightened me before, but then I have never been so deep or so long away in
it,” Ava sighed.
“Do not doubt your instincts, Ava. They have never
failed you before. I will scrye the southern forest and see if I can view past
the barrier that blocks it from my sight,” Minervin offered before returning to
his cooking.
They sat in silence for a time while Ava dressed.
“Do you think the Red Orcs of Blood Rock will accept
us if we go there and make a new home?”
Minervin sighed, “I have told you before, Ava, we will
find no refuge or kinship among any of the races and less so among the orcs. Your
existence would be an affront to them, a living symbol of the weakness that now
stains their blood. And a cursed wizard brings with him only misery and
despair. They can barely tolerate each other, but the only thing the Red Orcs
of Blood Rock and Green Orcs of Brown Stone would unite on is how quickly to
slaughter us both the minute our feet touch their red sands.”
“What if I were to become the wife of a warlord before
he goes to reclaim his stronghold? Would they accept us then?” Ava scratched
the beast’s neck, but her full attention was on Minervin.
He turned in surprise at her question and his thick
brows dipped with suspicion.
“They will accept you, as long as he lives. If the
warlord who comes into power after him does not favour you as well, you will
die. Why do you ask?”
She pursed her lip and blurted quickly, “Malgorn has
offered to take me as a wife...”
“Ava!”
“He says he is close to having a dwarf build him a
ship, so he can sail to Blood Rock and reclaim his stronghold. He will take us
with him if I become his wife,” Ava pressed on despite his dismissive tone.
“You are not marrying that deranged orc for his ship,
Ava! I will not allow it! You have a far greater destiny than wasting away as a
warmonger’s forgotten wife and fighting in pointless battles over filthy
water!” Minervin scolded, and the skins from the potato he was peeling flew in
every direction. He wanted to say more but was overcome by another fit and
doubled over. Ava rushed to his side and patted him on the back. He waved away
the water from the skin she offered.
“We have to leave this place, Minervin,” Ava whispered
once his body calmed. “We have to be on that ship when it sets sail, and I am
prepared to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
“Why are you so insistent on this? Malgorn does not
have a ship yet.”
Ava could not explain her sudden desperation to him. Its
intensity surprised her as well. Yet, she knew it went beyond her wanderlust.
Minervin will understand. Minervin always understood. Sometimes he knew her
mind better than she did.
“The Whirlwind says I must. I have heard its voice
telling me so.”
“The Frost Spirit speaks to you?” Minervin asked.
“Yes,” she replied, growing uncertain under his
intense gaze. The surprise she expected from him was not there in his reaction.
Minervin got up and paced the cabin floor, rubbing his
lips with his finger whilst deep in thought.
“The spirit speaks to you,” he muttered to himself.
“There are drawings of this ability among the ancient
elves in the Age of the Gods. It is theorised that they could converse with the
spirits of the land. Many believed this to be the origin of magic, but we could
not be certain. This power has been long lost to that time, though many of the
modern elves do an excellent job pretending that they possess it.” His voice
dripped with bitterness.
“What does it tell you, Ava? When it speaks to you,
what does it say?” Minervin rushed to her, holding her hands in his spotted
ones.
“It wants me to go to it.” Minervin reacted as she expected this time. But he was so still that Ava feared that his heart had stalled.
...
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