31
Sebastian hadn’t been sure what he’d expected Kante to look like. Based on Marcello’s vague descriptions, something like a bog or a dreary, sodden moor, perhaps. But what he discovered was quite different. While it wasn’t as warm or sunny as Aureum, it had its own uniquely mournful beauty.
They rode across vast, rolling green hills dotted with stone and splashes of blue and white flowers that shivered when gusts of cool, damp breeze blew past. Dense gray clouds scuttled overhead, but they were often broken by hard patches of sun that made for a striking contrast. To the north, Sebastian could make out the distant snowcapped Segen Mountains, and far to the east, out of view, he knew lay the Tainted Ocean. To the south, also well out of view, was the Gestank Swamps.
Sebastian took in a deep breath, but the air seemed remarkably fresh.
He turned to Marcello, who rode beside him.
“I thought you said Kante was smelly.”
“Oh, well, that’s just what I heard,” Marcello said sheepishly.
Sebastian gave his friend a hard look. “You’ve never actually been to Kante before, have you?”
“I’ve never even left Aureum before,” admitted Marcello.
“So all that talk about the beauty of Kantesian women?”
Marcello lifted his chin haughtily. “I have it on very good authority that they are quite beautiful.”
Marcello grinned. “I know you said your sister doesn’t have your blond hair, but how is she otherwise? You’re a handsome fellow, so surely she must be a catch.”
Sebastian sighed. “I suppose it depends on how you feel about wanted fugitives.”
“She’s a troublemaker, is she?” Marcello looked thrilled. “I don’t mind that. Not at all.”
“What about foxes?”
“Ah, she’s a vixen, then?” Marcello waggled his eyebrows.
“No, I mean literally,” said Sebastian.
Marcello gave him a baffled look. “I don’t follow.”
“Do you know what a Ranger of Marzanna is?”
“Those fiends from the Winter War?”
Sebastian nodded. “She’s one of them. In fact, she’s responsible for the recent uprising in Izmoroz.”
Marcello stared at him. “So your father was a famous commander, you’re a powerful wizard, and your sister’s a bloodthirsty monster? What is it with your family?”
“I wish I knew,” said Sebastian. “But I don’t think it would be fair to call my sister a bloodthirsty monster. If anything…” He thought back to those moments when she had begged him not to harm innocent bystanders in Les, and later on the streets of Gogoleth. He recalled his own intoxicating wrath, which had enabled him to selfishly ignore the danger he posed to others…
Who was the real monster?
“Family isn’t always easy,” Marcello said quietly after a few moments. “But they’ll always be there for you, no matter what.”
Sebastian nodded, still not trusting himself to speak. On numerous occasions Sonya had come to him and tried, however clumsily and presumptuously, to protect him. He had been unwilling to see the good intentions behind her efforts, and had instead acted like a spoiled child.
“Speaking of monsters,” Marcello said after a few moments. “What do you think that thing was in the pass?”
“I wish I knew,” said Sebastian. “I’ve researched magic as much as I can, in part so that I could better understand my own. I did come across a few mentions of Kantesian magic, but it was all very vague, and there was certainly nothing about them creating giant beasts. Although I honestly couldn’t say for certain it even was a beast. It felt almost more mechanical in nature. But even then, I couldn’t sense anyone operating it. So honestly, I’m at a loss to explain it.”
Marcello’s brow furrowed. “Do you think there will be… a lot of them?”
“Surely we would have heard about it,” said Sebastian. “It’s not as though we haven’t been receiving regular communications from the front. Something as catastrophic as an army of giant creatures would not have been omitted from reports.”
“That’s true.” Marcello looked a little relieved.
“For all we know, it might not have even been Kantesian,” Sebastian pointed out.
“I suppose,” said Marcello. “But the Kantesians do have some sort of magic?”
“I believe it’s called residual magic.”
“Residual? That doesn’t sound terribly impressive.”
“Something to do with energy transferal I believe? Or soul transferal perhaps?” Sebastian shook his head. “As I said, not much is known about their magic, in part because of the language gap.”
“I’ve always found magic to be unfair, you know?” asked Marcello.
“Unfair?”
“Well the Raízians have their Viajero, and the Izmorozians have their Rangers. The Uaine have their necromancers, and I guess even the Kantesians have some form of magic. But what do we Aureumians have?”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that,” admitted Sebastian.
“Well sure. You’re a wizard after all, so it wouldn’t occur to you. But even then, it’s not like wizards are unique to Aureum.”
“True,” said Sebastian. “If the legends are to be believed, a wizard can be born to any culture or nationality.”
“We’ve got no magic to call our own. And yet, we’re the ones in charge.”
“Perhaps because Aureum has no magic,” said Sebastian. “They’ve had to work harder than anyone else to compete.”
“You mean we,” said Marcello.
“Right, of course. We.”
Sebastian still didn’t really think of himself as Aureumian. He wondered if he would always feel a little removed from his countrymen in that way. He supposed he was isolated in a lot of ways. His upbringing, his abilities, even his guilt separated him from his happy-go-lucky friend. He wondered if he would ever find someone that he could share his whole self with. Maybe no such person existed. Or maybe that person had been Galina and he’d completely ruined his one chance to find someone with whom he could share his life.