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[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 117 - Back in the Fold
🕑 Added 2025-02-20 11:00:13 +0000 UTCThere was no judgment in Gwen’s eyes. She did not look at these people with scorn or disdain. She even gave another health potion to Wrug.
Mel had to resist the urge to give these downtrodden people money. They would never accept it. Their pride would not allow it, and yet she couldn’t leave them to their fate. She did, however, have another plan.
“I’ll be back. I won’t…” Mel choked up for a moment. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “I won’t forget this kinship,” Mel told them before leaving with Gwen and Fenris.
As a farewell gift, Fenris scampered over to the cookfire and whispered to the flames. They grew bright and powerful, licking up the sides of the blackened cauldron. Instead of darkening the metal further, they scoured it clean of soot, rust, and dirt until the copper pot shone like it was newly made.
The men and women stared at it in wonder. The thin stew suddenly took on a thicker, richer texture, and the smell that rolled out from it was wondrous and mouth-watering.
“The Pyre welcomes all souls, no matter how lost,” Fenris told them. He bowed to them, then scampered back to Mel and Gwen.
I wonder if they’ll ever understand the honor he just gave them.
The fiery oppa hopped onto Mel’s shoulder without another word, then pressed his burning paws into her skin. It was warm and comforting.
The Fire Oppa fills you with conviction.
Your health, stamina, and mana temporarily recovers faster over time.
“He’s such a good oppa, huh?” Gwen smiled, warm and friendly as usual. It would truly break Mel’s heart if she was Other Mel’s killer.
Fenris, despite seeming rather reserved for an oppa, looked away bashfully.
“Feel like picking up Thomas?” Gwen asked, not demanding to know why Mel ran. Instead, she seemed to be trying to cheer Mel up. “Or resting back at home? Could even pick a new tower. That one over there by the arcade gauntlet is as good as any.”
“We don’t have a home,” Mel said softly. That was part of the problem. She felt cut free. Adrift.
Normally, she would find a group of freedom fighters struggling under the boot of oppression and spend all her time building them up and training them. It was her and Deklin’s favorite pastime.
Now…things were different. She was a competitor in the Convocation. That meant she had to keep up. However, she couldn’t involve herself in the same way.
On the other hand, all the lords, nobles, wealthy merchants, and other horrible people would be competing in the Convocation too. They couldn’t help themselves. Those types craved power even when their plate was full of it.
Mel could blow off some steam by focusing on them in the coming trials. It wouldn’t be the same, but it was something. And it made her feel a little better to think about bashing some thin-lipped, weak-chinned noble in the teeth than pondering her own predicament.
A predicament that was beyond her normal set of abilities. How do you even begin investigating your own murder while living side-by-side with the top suspects?
Gwen studied Mel’s face. She appeared to decide something. The much larger woman lowered to a knee, looking up at Mel for once. Her red hair was so long now that it brushed against the street.
“Sure, we don’t own land,” Gwen said, gripping Mel’s shoulder reassuringly. “But we have a place to stay. Wherever we want. Now, maybe you don’t want to decide what to do. That’s fine. I can do that. In the meantime, my illustrious leader clearly deserves the honor of…”
“Of what?”
“A ride!” Then she lowered her voice, deep, dark and super intense. “A piggyback ride.”
Mel stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
Gwen grinned widely. “Why not? Not like I have a pavilion. I’m a tall lady, if you somehow lack eyeballs and those are just convincing fakes. It’ll be a good view!”
With his muzzle turned away, resting on his forepaws, Fenris watched Mel from the corner of his eye. He gave her a subtle nod of agreement.
Mel shrugged. “Why not? When the newshogs find us, at least they’ll have entertaining pictures to share for their articles.”
“Newshogs?” Gwen asked.
“One of the Shards I visited called people like them who wanted to be first with a big scoop regardless of its veracity, newshogs. I kinda like it. Sounds silly and stupid, just like them. They don’t care about us, just selling more papers. The more salacious the headline, the better.” Mel hopped onto her back. “So let’s give them a show.”
“I don’t have to trot, do I?” After getting a hold, Gwen rose to her full, six-and-a-half-foot height.
“Follow your heart.”
Mel looked around as they headed out of the warrens. It was endearing how Gwen relied on Mel to navigate the complicated and often blocked passages to get out to the main thoroughfare.
With her long legs, Gwen easily navigated the busy afternoon streets. Standing taller than she ever had before, Mel pointed out the landmarks that would get them to the edge of the crater.
Unlike where they were standing, at the epicenter of the Seabrim Crater, Thomas was still back in the main hospital tower at the base of the mountain.
Luckily, there were countless trams and gondolas for people wishing to go up or down. Those with money or prestige–such as First Champions–were able to use the portals kept open for even speedier transit.
Mel secretly hated being able to use them. It felt like she was living a lie.
Would Other Mel hate me for living this life, or would she understand? I know I wouldn’t give a damn if another Mel was trying to find my killer.
Gwen opted to take the majority of the way on foot. She leapt on top of buildings when she needed to and felt like it.
Mel tried not to make a joke about taking a dog for a walk.
Despite the press of so many bodies, Mel and Gwen were easily picked out, and they attracted a flock of newshogs wherever they went. Luckily, they weren’t privy to the portals, which were reserved for people above their station, providing the three with a short-lived break.
“Bitch, how do you live like this?” Mel asked as they were hurtling down the street toward the hospital tower. “One wrong move and you’ll trip and crack your head wide open. It’d be like toppling the damned Babel Tower.”
“Hey, I fall over all the time and I’m fine!” She paused. “Wait…that’s just proving your point? Dammit.”
Mel looked to the side. “No wonder your vigor is so high.”
“I’d be so thin if it wasn’t. I need to be sturdy or I’d break myself more than everything else. And this isn’t even my usual height.” Gwen looked up at the hospital tower, hesitating for some reason.
“Do I need to get out a riding crop? Why’re you stopping?”
Gwen grumbled and got going again. Though she was moving slower than necessary. “Just nervous.”
“He’ll be fine,” Mel assured her as they entered the hospital’s lobby. Most of the newshogs stopped camping out the hospital since the majority of the competitors were released earlier in the day.
“I hope so,” Gwen remarked quietly, worried and uncertain. “I’m afraid something changed him.”
Mel squinted at the back of Gwen’s head. “What do you mean?”
“They called him…” Gwen trailed off, unwilling to say something that was going to be overheard in a public space. “Then, as a beast, I saw the Countess and Cal and…” Her voice cracked from emotion. She cleared her throat before continuing. “I remembered why I brought her…I mean them to Brookmoors to be exchange students.”
“What does this have to do with Thomas?”
“As Magi, we’re used to stepping in and out of people’s lives when Realmwalking,” Gwen explained quietly. “Despite that, I couldn’t bear to leave Miranda, Cal, Shrubley, Slyrox, and Smudge behind. Like a piece of me would be gone forever.”
“Still not getting it.”
“Deep connections like that are rare and precious. I don’t know what our bond will be with Thomas if he’s been changed.”
A familiar tanned and ageless terra elf greeted them. “Ah, right on time,” Sae’mir said with a motherly smile. Walking beside her was Thomas, looking none the worse for wear.
“Mel? Gwen?” he asked. “What’re you doing?”
“They came to retrieve you,” Sae’mir said. “I told you they would.”
“Yes,” Thomas said, gesturing at the odd pose the pair were in. “But they’re–”
“Thomas!” Gwen excitedly ran at Thomas with speed, carrying Mel along on her back. She flung her arms around Thomas, pulling him into a rib cracking embrace.
Mel clung on to Gwen’s back and ruffled his blonde locks. “Aw, look at us together again! We’re just missing our resident Wimpley and it’ll be just like old times.”
“Present!” Heath said from the side. “I actually got here an hour ago. I went looking for Mel and well…” He put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. “Glad to see you’re okay, Thomas.”
Thomas shook his head and laughed. “I’m glad nothing’s really changed then.” He glanced at Sae’mir. “Thank you for your help, Matron.”
“It is my pleasure,” Sae’mir said. “You have proven to be a man of hidden depths. My door is always open, and I’ll have a pot of cha’len on should you wish to grace me with your company again.”
Gwen scooped Thomas up. While Mel rode on Gwen’s back, the werewolf used an arm like a bench for a disgruntled Thomas. With her supernatural strength, carrying everyone was effortless.
“Hey!”
“Just go with it,” Mel told him.
“What about me?” Heath asked.
Gwen glanced down at him. “I mean, if you really want…”
“Everybody else is doing it!” he protested.
She picked up Heath too, carrying him the same way as Thomas.
Gwen took all four of them out of there like they weighed as heavy as pillows. “So where do you want to go?”
Mel, sitting on Gwen’s shoulders, pointed toward the mountain. “Tally-ho!”
Thomas looked at Gwen. “This is rather embarrassing. I’d prefer to walk.”
Sure enough, several heads were beginning to turn their way. The telltale muttering of newshogs wasn’t too far behind.
Gwen pouted but put Thomas down.
Heath looked up at her. “I’m okay with this.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gwen said. “There are upsides and downsides to masculine pride.”
Heath gave her a thumbs up.
Together they returned to the Seabrim Crater’s interior and the Starling Tower. After the events of the day, Mel wanted nothing more than to return to her room and collapse into bed, but there was something important they needed to do first.
The Magi were seated at the long buffet table, chatting in what Mel could only describe as a subdued manner. Nobody was eating.
Thomas looked around. “Who died? You all look like you’re at a funeral. This is the time for a celebration!”
Charlie glared daggers at Thomas, then managed to mask her anger. “You’re right, this will be a celebration. We’re all reunited.”
Shrubley, the talking magical shrub, looked up from the platter he was placing on the table. He had an apron on, though it didn’t protect him very much from all the bits of food, flour, and oil splattered on his green leaves.
Mel noticed several places were set but not occupied.
Notably, Charlie sat at one end of the table, but there was room at the other end for Mel and her group as well.
“Finally!” Shrubley cried, rushing up to them. He took Gwen by the elbow–which, as the only person shorter than Mel, meant he had to stretch to do–and guided the group to their seats. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Gwen beamed at Shrubley and gave him a hug that shook his leaves. She seemed to be very fond of him.
She seemed to be very fond of everybody.
“Can we eat now, Shrubley?” Sylvie asked. “Mel’s here now.”
Shrubley looked at Mel as she climbed down off Gwen’s shoulders and allowed the ambulatory shrub to push her chair in under her. “Would you like to eat, Mel?”
Despite the unsettling knowledge that any one of the hopeful Magi faces looking at her could be Other Mel’s killer, she felt touched by the display.
Magi, like many mages across the Worldshards, often had appetites that matched or exceeded their egos. They could put away enough food to feed a dragon and still ask for seconds.
The fact that they had waited for her return spoke volumes. Maybe she had been wrong before. She was accepted, but most of all, she was welcomed.
Blinking away tears, Mel nodded. “I’d like that, very much.”
Shrubley clapped his woody palms together. “Dig in everybody!”
