Touch of Fate 83 Clearing the Air

Morris swirled his drink, choosing his words carefully. "Have I ever told you about my family?"

"You didn't. I heard a few things from Kaya, but nothing concrete."

"I suppose its time I do." He took a long swig, almost as if to put off his next statement.

"I truly left home twice in my life. The first time, was when I went to the Bardic College here in Wyrmport. Its not quite as prestigious as the University, but it is one of the few true centers of learning on the central continent. I owe much of what I am today to what I learned while I was there. Of course I really just went there to get away."

Shaking his head, "You have to understand, I had a long and troubled history with my father. I hated the way he treated my mother and my sister. I hated the way he made my brothers and I compete in everything. I hated my life at that house, so when I saw a chance to escape, even just to another part of the city, I jumped at it. Turns out that was probably a mistake."

He took another swig, "My mother was my father's second wife. It was a political marriage, and a tense one at that. Soon after my sister was born, they started fighting more often. Of course, my father had all the power, so my mother had to be careful. Whenever they got into a particularly big fight, he would send her to one of the estates for a few weeks. Eventually he would relent and let her return, but he made sure it was clear who ruled the house."

[One of their estates?]

Staring at his one remaining hand, and rubbing the calluses that had formed there, Morris continued in a slightly distant voice. "I left home the second time when I was still a student at the College. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but that's how I saw it."

He paused before speaking once more in a husky voice, "I left because my mother died."

".....I'm sorry, man. That.....sucks." Mike replied lamely.

Morris smiled half-heartedly. "I was told she was killed by bandits while traveling to one of our estates south of the city. Her carriage had been destroyed and the entire escort slaughtered. I blamed my father. He'd pushed her away again, and this time it had gotten her killed. And so I did the one thing I could manage to punish him. I forsook my family name, left behind everything he ever gave to me, and set out on my own."

"Of course I didn't know until much later that it was a ploy by one of my father's enemies. An effort to weaken his hold on a particular region. I still blamed him, since she had died because of his political games, but it was harder for some reason." He trailed off, lost in thought.

Glancing around at the rest of the half-empty common room, Mike replied, "I'm really sorry Morris, it sounds like life has not been kind to you. But I still don't know what this has to do with Count Graveston.......unless....."

Morris nodded, "You guessed it, Count Graveston is my father."

Mike stared at him for a long time, before replying. "Huh, I can kind of see the resemblance now. I think you should grow a beard like your dad's."

"I'm being serious here, Mike." Morris replied, a little angrily.

"So am I. You need to cover up as much of that face as you can, man. It would be a blessing to the world."

Morris gritted his teeth, prepared to start yelling, but then took in his friends light-hearted smile. One that didn't quite reach his eyes. Sighing, he leaned back and chuckled a little.

Emptying his mug, Mike ordered another, even though it was really only making him feel full at this point. "Look man, you are who you are. Your father doesn't change that. So lighten up."

Looking at him Morris could only shake his head and smile ruefully.

Mike gave a mischievous grin. "So what should I call you now that I know you are the son of a count. I'm sure that there is probably an official title, but have you considered countling. Maybe countson, or is that a little too on the nose."

"First of all, the correct form of address is lord. Since I am the heir to House Graveston, I am in turn treated as a count in everything save name. Second, 'countling' is a degrading term used for the bastard children of a count house, so I would thank you to not call me that again."

"Very well, your lordship. Please let me know if you need your boots licked, your lordship." Mike said with a smug bow.

"Listen, you ass, I came here to tell you something serious."

"Alright, shoot."

Ignoring the strange euphemism, Morris explained, "I talked my father into writing that letter of recommendation for two reasons. First, he'd taken notice of you because of your escapades over the last few days. There is no good way of completely protecting you from his influence, so we might as well take advantage of it."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Second, he doesn't know your the Hero. If he did, my father would do everything in his power to bind you to him. You need to get away from Wyrport as soon as possible. The capital is a little more complicated, and even Count Graveston has to move carefully at court."

"While that makes sense, why don't I just hop on the next ship heading to another country?"

"You could, and that wouldn't be a terrible idea, but going to the University would give you a chance to work on your biggest weakness, your lack of knowledge."

Mike mulled his words over for awhile, before nodding. "You're right, I am ignorant. Most of the problems I have had in the last few months have stemmed from that lack of knowledge. If I have a good chance to fix it, even if it comes with a price, I need to take it."

"So, when are you planning on going?"

"Well, I have a few things left to take care of in town, but I should probably go sooner rather than later. I'll use tomorrow to get my affairs in order, then try to head out the day after."

Morris looked a bit melancholy. "Then I suppose tonight will be the last time we see each other for awhile. I have to travel to Gold Spear early tomorrow on a task for my father."

"I see, then we will have to make tonight count. Excuse me miss! Get me two of your strongest!"

This turned out to be a bubbling concoction that looked like acid and smelled like paint thinner.

"Hm, I think I'll pass on this one." A slightly green-face Morris said.

"More for me, then." Mike promptly proceeded to down both. They burned like fire going down, and sat in his stomach with an unpleasant warmth. "Bleegh, that tasted awful."

"You did ask for their strongest drink."

"I'll know better next time." Mike paused to summon some water in a futile effort to rid his mouth of the taste. "Been meaning to ask something."

"What's that?"

"Why'd you go back? Home, I mean."

Morris shrugged, "I found something more important than my hatred for my father. Something that I needed his power for."

Not fully understanding, but getting the basic gist of it, Mike felt utterly humbled by his friends words. For the second time tonight, he new what it meant to have true comrades.

"Hey Morris, I'm going to hit the hay here soon. Before you go, meet me in the room. I've got something for you."

"I'm flattered, but I don't swing that way." He replied with a smirk.

Giving the bard a flat glare, Mike continued, "Look, just come with me. Its important, and there are too many prying eyes here."

"Alright, alright."

The pair paid their tab and headed upstairs.

"So, what did you need?" Morris asked once Mike had closed the door.

"I need you to hold still for a second, and stay quiet, so I can concentrate." He grabbed the stub of Morris's arm, and focused an intense amount of mana into it. A pure white glow filled the room, and it felt as if the very air was vibrating from the display of power.

The light quickly subsided leaving them squinting in the new darkness.

Morris blinked and looked down at his hands...both of his hands. The stub had become a fully functional limb.

"H.....How?" He asked, feeling tears prickling at the edges of his eyes.

"I managed to level up my Healing Magic to the point I can do some pretty crazy stuff. Don't ask me how it got to that point. Its a story in itself." Mike replied with a sigh. The amount of mana this had required was pretty crazy as well.

[I've still got plenty of room for improvement, I guess.]

"I don't.....I can't...." Tears were now streaming down his face.

With a tired smile, Mike patted his friend on the shoulder. "Its not much, compared to how much I owe you, but think of it as the first installment of my repayment."

Finally regaining a little control over his emotions, Morris shook his head. "If anything, I owe you now. Do you know how much a healer would charge for something like this? And that's not even counting how difficult it would be to find someone capable of it."

"Meh, details. It didn't cost me much besides some mana."

A companionable silence fell for a few moments.

"I can't thank you enough, Mike." He held up his newly restored arm. It was fresh and pink, like the skin under a scab. "I hadn't even dreamed....."

"Don't worry about it, man. We're friends. Its the least I could do."

Morris nodded his agreement, before giving Mike a mock suspicious look. "This isn't because you just found out I'm going to be fantastically wealthy is it?"

"I fully plan on taking advantage of that as much as possible."

The pair shared a laugh, before shaking hands.

"You take care of yourself out there, Mike. Nobles can be truly vicious to those they see as weaker than themselves. Don't get caught up in something messy while you are studying there."

"Yeah, I'll try to keep my head down, but knowing my luck I'll get stuck int the middle of a coup attempt and end up saving a princess or something."

"Don't joke about that. I could really see that happening with you around. Anyway, I'll see you around."

"See ya, Morris." He replied as the other man left. Mike had a strange feeling he wouldn't be seeing his friend for awhile.

Despite the melancholy he felt following the parting, Mike was excited about his next adventure.

After a short trip by boat, he'd be in the capital, living the high life, and studying in the most prestigious center of learning in this part of the world.

What could go wrong?

-------------------------------------------

Standing at the prow of the ship, Mike stood with his hands on his hips. "Ah, nothing quite like the nautical life. The fresh air, the wide open spaces. Yes, if I had to go back and do it all over again, I think I would want to be a sailor."

"That's all well and good, but do you think you could help out with the situation here." Brenden chimed in while hacking at another of the tentacles that were seeking to crush the ship. He nearly slipped on the rain-slicked deck.

The massive sea creature, or lake creature since they hadn't even made it to the channel leading to the ocean yet, resembled a giant squid grown to titanic proportions. The periodic flashes of lightning displayed its massive beak-shaped mouth that was working angrily, or perhaps hungrily.

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" One of the other passengers was yelling.

"Get those cannons loaded! Blow that blasted thing back to the depths that spawned it." The burly first mate screamed. After a short delay, he followed it with a simple, "FIRE!"

A concussive wave of sound and smoke crashed over the deck, as the broadside was unloaded, point blank into the creature's midsection. Howling in pain, it began to thrash the ship with its tentacles. It was wounded, but not yet dead.

"Captain! There's a waterspout incoming off the port bow! What are your orders?" Another sailor called.

"Haha, batten the hatches. Full sail! We're going to ride the wind!"

"That's insane!"

"There be only one thing I fear. No overgrown squid or spinning water going to stop Captain Bont. Now, full speed ahead!"

[Yep, what could go wrong?] Mike thought, rain disguising his tears of frustration.

Chapter end