It is time, and past time. Leather boots make slithering sounds down tiled corridors, whisper against the fiber of rugs and carpets. Edan is in his colors, travelling clothes of white and crimson red. His steps are that of a dancer, gliding and quiet, where another might make the hallways ring with pounding strides and the jingle of spurs. But Bleys's son does not wear these things, nor does he head for the stables; this time, Aramsham will have to stay here. Going alone will be faster...well, almost alone. Kyauta has taken its normal place at his shoulder, a white dragonet whose head whips around to see anything interesting as they go by.
And there is something of interest at the end of this walk. A small chamber where a number of pasteboard cards and sketches are attached to the walls. It is one such image that he seeks, one Edan has sought before. Something needed doing, an offer he meant to accept some time ago, and now is the perfect opportunity. Well, at least for him. He hopes the offer is still open, as he searches for Fiona's card and concentrates on it.
He finds Fiona's card easily, as if she wishes to be found.
"Yes, Edan?" Fiona says. The focus is tight on her face; Edan can't immediately tell where she is. "Is all well with you? What do you need?"
"All is well," Edan says. "Hello, Aunt Fiona. I'm in Xanadu, and about to head out far afield. You had mentioned something about creating a bird of desire, and I am thinking that would be a handy skill to have, once I am away and moving. Would you have the time to teach me?"
"I'm a little distracted right now, Edan," Fiona says. The contact seems rock-steady to him, even so. "Are you armed?"
Edan's expression cycles from suprise to concern. "Aye, knife and sword," he says, curling his left hand around the hilt of his curved saber. He extends his right hand, in case Fiona needs him to come to her quickly...or vice versa. He also starts considering angles that he might have to parry for her, or him, or both of them. "Do you have need of them, my aunt?"
"Come to me," she says, and pulls him through.
She is on the deck of a ship, dressed in gear that would have been appropriate for the settled people of the Land of Peace: a modest coat that disguises her figure, a full length skirt (which Edan suspects is divided, but can't tell immediately), and a scarf that covers most of her hair. She has a gun of some sort in one hand.
Around them, on the deck, Edan can hear the scurrying of men and military preparations of some sort. Edan's nose tells him this isn't a sailing ship, and when he looks up, he can see, not sails, but the structure of the bag. It's an airship.
"We're about to be boarded. Careful with the fire spells."
Edan grins. "A hydrogen powered balloon-ship," he guesses, "up in the air, about to be boarded, with gunpowder all around. Not my absolute favorite game, but I like the chessboard. I suppose they weren't interested in a dance competition..." He looks around. "In Uxmal, I had some practice in gathering and transferring heat for spells. The entire pyramid was rigged against Chantico and her abilities. I will use that here."
"Very good," Fiona says. "They may not be expecting that." She gestures with the gun, which Edan can see is shaped wrongly for the sort of pistol he's used to, with gunpowder. "It's going to be a difficult fight. I don't think we'll need to call for help, but I'm glad to have you for backup."
Following her gesture, Edan looks off into the evening sky. There's a trail of something cloudlike crossing the front of the double-moons rising in--whatever direction that is. Silhouetted against them, there is a trail of horsemen riding quickly along a circuitous route toward the ship on the cloud trail. The hooves of their mounts strike sparks in the sky.
Their figures are hard to focus on, as if they're wavering in the moonlight.
Edan's smile slips away. He glances back, just a second, at the spot he just stepped through, knowing it's already gone and that there's no time. "Are those Moonriders?" he asks. "I have something I stole from them, a sextant I was ready to research. Ah, well, can't be helped... I hope they didn't somehow arrange this nexus in time, though." His smile finds his way back to his face, and he brings up his Third Eye. "But make no mistake, I'm glad to be here. That cloud trail, do you think it would support my weight without me expending Sorcery?"
"We shall win anyway, so it makes little difference," Fiona reassures Edan. "The cloud road is not entirely unlike the filmies. It's under the control of the Moonriders, so I don't think you can trust it."
With the Third Eye, yes, those are definitely Moonriders, perhaps half a dozen of them. Kyauta has picked up on the tension and is twitching like a cat anxious to eat its prey.
Edan draws his sword. "Flash'd all their sabres bare, flash'd as they turn'd in air," he quotes. "Likely they'll charge straight onto the deck. Luck, my Aunt. Kyauta, stay close. If you Eat them, be prepared to handle changes in Time."
Kyauta says, "Yes, Great Lord!" and clings tight to Edan's shoulder for the moment as he moves into place.
The defenders are carrying rifles of a different make to what Fiona has, which Edan doesn't think are combustibles, either. They offer him one and a place in the line if he wants it, but if he declines, they will close ranks and line up to fire against the oncoming Moonriders.
When the order to fire is given, Edan sees that their ammunition is some kind of projectile fire, exactly what is unclear. But one of the Moonriders moves to defend somehow with something like Space or Time, and the projectiles scatter far away from the Moonriders, falling into whatever lies far below the vessel.
The first thing Edan does is to fish out a 'bullet' from whatever ammunition bag they give him; the second is to put his hand on the barrel of his rifle. Gunpowder or no, he's hoping the barrel is at least warm from the friction of a projectile spinning out from the inside. If there is heat, he'll drain all he can out of it, even if it makes the rifle useless; it will then be time to check and see if the opposing sorceror was lazy and only shielded the Riders from one direction.
Edan can use the projectile and the barrel to generate heat, which will render the rifle useless. It's not a lot but it'll let Edan get something going.
Physically, Edan drops the inexplicably frozen, cracked, and broken rifle they just handed him to the deck, and then flings the bullet in his hand in the general direction of the Riders instead. He calls out three strange, guttural words as he throws.
[Spell: What's That Nautilus Doing Here (Space/Similarity) - Unfortunately, this has to be 'momentary' as the missed bullets are losing velocity each second. Edan calculates the proper four-dimensional curve in his head, and the spell gathers the missed bullets and flings them back at the Riders simultaneously from all directions, following that curve, at their current velocity; being only a few seconds after the first volley, they should still be quite dangerous. This means a few bullets should be aimed back at their own ship, but he tries to calculate his three-dimensional curve to minimize the risk. Prowess + Performance (a moment) + Focus (bullet) = Target (Riders) + Duration (immediate) + Effect]
The spell goes off as expected and Edan thinks he even managed to keep any shots that come back at the ship slow enough to be harmless on impact.
The riders on the aftwards side take the brunt of the attack. Edan sees them torn apart by the miniature missiles. Half a second earlier, they were elsewhere, and they ride in from positions where they were not (but now were), around the shells.
"Not bad," says Fiona. "Usually they move your weapon, or you. You got them to move themselves. You want to do something that they can't get away from by not being there. We're safe from that, but we need a crew aboard the ship.
"We better hope they've never fought an airship before. They could move it to the past and we'd be in mid-air trying to emulate your father's best trump trick."
The sailors are reloading, and the men behind them are readying weapons. They favor curved sabers, with long, wicked edges. If they're allowed to make contact they'll be deadly weapons.
Edan winces at the thought of Bleys's fall from Kolvir, but he can't hide a little smile. "I can't tell you how pleased I feel when either you or Father compliment my Sorcery," he says. "It is high praise, indeed from you. But I have failed, here; I have not broken their charge. I have been on the other side of this conflict, many times, and it is that simple. If they succeed in charging onto the deck, they will have the advantage. If we turn or stop their charge, even part of it, we will have the advantage. I have thought of turning right, forcing them to make a final curve inward, then drop a Void in their path, but I see now they can avoid it through Time. If there was a way to... to..." He breaks off, and looks like he's searching her face, but his mind is a million miles away now as he wastes precious seconds in thought.
Can it be done?
Yes. Theoretically.
How difficult?
Not very, considering the circumstances and our opponent. It would
even interfere with their Time spells.
Will we miss the worst of it?
Probably, if we go fast enough.
Too dangerous?
Most. Definitely.
"I have it," Edan says. "Fiona, please protect us from the effects of Time. Ho! Captain!" Having no idea who the captain is of this ship, he yells it out. "Bring us hard to starboard, and at flank speed!" He looks quickly around him at the crew. "I need heat. Warmth! Heat to make a spell. Heat to stop their charge, to break their formation. Help me, and quickly!"
If Edan were not incredibly observant, he might have missed the tiny nod that Fiona gave that set the sailors in motion. He hears his orders echoing to the afterdeck and the ship almost lurches. She noses down a bit as her engines dig in and she starts a turn that is too fast to be called elegant or graceful.
A crewman slides past Edan and unbattens a hatch towards the stern of the ship. Edan feels the wave of heat the comes up and notices that the hatch is insulated. He can see the red glow of the steamworks in the belly of the great ship below, There are pipes running past, all wrapped in insulating materials. A quick swipe with a knife or sword would put Edan in contact with a great iron pipe coursing with steam.
"This is exactly what I need," Edan says. His sword is back in his hand as he approaches the hatch. He's confident in his math, but not so confident they got enough boost in speed as the ship turns and leaps forward. He finds that he'll be relying a lot on Fiona and her abilities to protect them from collateral damage. It's a pretty safe bet.
A quick swipe, and a jet of steam whistles out of the pipe; with his free hand, Edan pulls a tiny hourglass out of his pocket and holds it against the gash in the pipe. The hourglass immediately starts to melt, but his hand stays steady and not scalded. His voice is clear and strong, singing of finite-time discontinuity and placing limits on things that don't have limits. He casts, waving his sword as if he's writing something in the air, hoping that Fiona has a good enough idea of what's coming, until the Riders reach the final turn of their charge and he releases his work in their path.
[Time Void (Time/Space): Much like the Void of Space that Ambrose created, this is a singularity of Time. Forget about nice, structured spells like moving an airship ahead or behind the crew's existence; this little maelstrom is created to suck Moonriders out of the present and into random Time-chaos. Edan is relying on the Riders' vulnerability to Time magics and the chaotic nature of the singularity itself to keep them from jumping around the moment of its creation; the intent is to make them ride around it, breaking their charge, or let lost in some time period when they come in contact. I don't know how long Edan will cast, since it depends on when the Riders reach the optimal distance. He's also intending to keep the Effect and Target relatively small to minimize the effect on the airship, so he's relying on his mathematical abilities and Fiona in that regard. I figure the Riders will hit the ship and it will be sword-to-sword after this. Prowess + Performance (a moment or a minute) + Focus (hourglass) = Target (more than a horse) + Duration (moment or a minute) + Effect]
The sands from the hourglass spiral outwards, flashes of fire crackling between them like red lighting, expanding and spreading outwards, like a pulsing storm. Edan sees riders and horses get sucked into it. If he could hear them, he'd think they were screaming. The enemy's numbers are significantly reduced.
"Ware boarders!" comes the shout. Followed by some sort of explosion that rocks the deck. Suddenly, there are moonriders everywhere, moving in their silky fashion, moving as if they had no bones at all. It's hard to tell how many of them there are. It may be a small number, or it may be a handful who can be two places at once. The crew aren't really a match for them, one on one. They're amazingly fast with their short, curved swords.
Edan takes a second to thank himself for his own efforts; If things are that bad now, it wouldn't have been any kind of a contest if all the Riders had reached the deck. Well. Faster enemy, the crew is losing one-on-one fights, it's time for a zone defense. "Defenders to me!" he yells, coming into the fray. It's his intention to fight and move in such a way that the crew fighting with him will protect each others' backs and stand in some kind of circular formation. As far as the Riders, they have speed but not reach; if they are still ahorse, Edan is aiming for the horses. If they are on foot, Edan is aiming to attack small groups in formation with crewmembers to help negate the time-advantage. If this isn't working out, then it's time to go another direction and make a difference on his own.
Edan finds this tactic to be almost successful. His men are dying less and, while he has not been able to attach the foothold the riders have on the ship, neither have they expanded it greatly. Thy do not seem distressed by this, as if they have a secret. Perhaps it's the dangerous list to starboard of airship. Perhaps it's the dark clouds ahead.
Edan has lost track of Fiona. That is either good or very, very bad.
It's all looking very, very bad. Edan decides he's going to have to trust Fiona is all right, partly because he'll put everyone at a disadvantage by stopping to look for her, and partly because she's obviously worlds ahead of him in experience and ability and more able to take care of herself.
Edan's task is the Moonriders, and he's running out of options. He may have blunted their charge, and reduced their numbers, but staying at the status quo here will result in him and the crew being killed. Time is quite literally against them, either before the ship tilts too far or some storm blows them off the deck, or the Riders use some unknown reserve powers for victory. Jumping in and out of Time as they are, they're already immune to the manipulation of most of the physical Principles. He will have to hit them, and quickly, in such a way that Time will not be to their advantage. Then they can address the more mundane emergency of the ship.
So, Edan turns to an ability he's used before and knows should work, even if it disgusts him. He stops fighting, retreating behind the first line of the defending crew, and extends a hand towards the heat of the steam pipe below decks. He jams his other hand into a pocket of his robes, knowing that he will pull out a fistful of black snake scales crusted in salt and sand. He kneels upon the deck, pressing his palm and the components against the blood-slicked wood, and casts in a sibilant hiss. Nothing happens for a moment, and then the deck under him explodes in a mass of black shadowy snakes that move outward to engage the Moonriders. Hissing, writhing, snapping, translucent, they move to drain the Riders of their power, their will to fight, their heat, even the light around them. He will have to rely on the leaders of the crew to take advantage of the Rider's weakness on their own. Edan casts and casts, his voice rising, as he drains these things from the Riders and holds it in reserve in his Psyche to use in a final blow against the enemy or to save the airship.
Much like Eating.
The snake-things start off doing quite well, allowing several Moonriders to be overwhelmed by the crew. The crew has no taste for mercy, and the unconscious are dumped overboard, into the storm-lit valley below.
The trick is only partially successful, and the remaining Moonriders are rescued by their mounts, which pop in from some possible future where they had been awaiting a call back to the past. The riders mount and disappear over the listing deck. The men cheer, until the hull shudders at some great impact. There is more mischief happening beneath the uneven deck.
Great Lord! Give me their Power! I can defeat them!
Kayuta flies above Edan's head, his eyes spinning in fast washes of color. He has clearly absorbed something from the Moonriders.
Edan's jaw clicks shut, and his expression grows very serious as all the implications come to him. He nods, once.
Then mark my words, my affine, and mark them well. You, me, Fiona, the crew, we are important. We must live. This ship must stay aloft. We must stay on the ship. He reaches out to touch Kyauta's forehead (assuming it still has the dragon form). Don't knock us off the ship, or let them knock us off. I'll start working on a way to keep us out of the storm. And with that, he opens the path to the power he's stored and lets it drain into his affine.
Kyauta replies Yes, Great Lord! and absorbs the energy. When he flies over the gunwale of the ship, he's positively glowing, a bright white sun, lighting up the sky below the storm. He's also flying faster than Edan has seen him fly before. I was/am/will be beginning my attack he adds. It doesn't sound much like Kyauta at the moment.
There's a ragged cheer from the men, but the ship is drifting very closer to both the storm and the mountains.
Edan has the sad little smile he's worn before, usually when he knows someone or something is about to die. Or in this case, change beyond his control. But, then, the possibility has always been there. What do Lords of Chaos do in that kind of situation? Probably Eat their affines, if Clarissa is the model to follow on that.
But there are more important things to worry about at the moment. Edan moves closer to the exposed steam pipes, where he kneels and lays his hand on the pipe itself. "Find Fiona," he says to the nearest of the crew. "Come back and let me know if she's all right. When you see her, tell her I'm going to try and move the ship away from the storm." And with that, he starts to chant and draw a smoking pattern on the wood of the deck with his finger.
Fiona herself returns instead of the sailor. "Your creature is ... efficient," she says. Looking at the storm, she nods at his work. "We don't have enough lift to clear the mountains at this speed, and if you stop pushing us forward, we'll just go down in the storm. Do you see any place to land?"
There are several options. There are a few high meadows in the mountain range, there is the valley below it, or if there was enough lift there's a saddleback pass that the ship might get over. Failing there would be bad.
And after that, there's still the moonriders and the storm.
With no idea what's beyond the pass, and a long drop to the valley, Edan decides one of the nearer meadows is a safer bet, and says so. "I'd have gone with Kyauta, but keeping the ship flying is more important," he adds. "Once we're on the ground and out of the danger of falling, we'll have something approximating more of a normal battle. What happened below?"
The crew begin doing what they can to bring the ship down where Edan wants it.
Fiona looks at the meadow and the tree-line and seems satisfied with the effort. "As near as I can tell, your pet changed the rate at which time passed for several of the mounts of the riders. They died of starvation in the course of a minute, and fell from the sky. The remaining riders pulled back. I suspect, based on what I saw, that the enemy was a much smaller force than we saw, but had sent itself back in time to double its strength and fought us twice. That is a new tactic if they've started doing that."
She turns towards the gunwale. "It's keeping the Moonriders at bay now, although it may have depleted its ability to time-shock the mounts. Your creature has the tactical ability to bluff the enemy, but I don't think it would hold back if it actually had an attack left in it.
"We should leave after we land and assure that the crew is safe. The Gheneshi don't want them, they want us."
"As you say," Edan nods. "I don't like this. The Riders are much more effective than I anticipated, even from the time we hit their camp." He fumes for a few seconds. "I can call to Kyauta to withdraw and come back to us any time, our minds are linked. Are we Trumping out?"
Fiona nods. "If we wish to give the best advantage to the sailors, then we should, and very visibly. Your father might do something involving getting caught and escaping, but we don't want you to lose the item you're carrying." She sheathes the dagger she's been carrying, and Edan notices that it has some liquid on it that isn't blood. "I don't like leaving, but it is the safest thing we can do for our crew, unless you have a different idea."
Edan shakes his head. "Your plan sounds best. I just asked so I could calculate the best time to call my affine back to us. I regret that you'll have to leave, well, whatever you were about. I couldn't salvage things completely, but I suppose I could lay the blame for that on the Ghenshi."
While speaking, Edan makes an effort to land them on the first good spot he finds in the high meadows, with a minimum of crashing.
Edan does what he can, but there's too much wind and speed to shed to make a clean landing. The ship seems geared for air-docking or water landings, so no amount of weather or wind control can solve the basic problem of landing a ship on a hillside.
Fiona smiles. "I wasn't the prey, it turns out. I was the decoy. We have succeeded, although it was not without cost. Call your creature in. You don't want to be separated from him in the event we land poorly."
You hear me, Kyauta? Edan thinks. You've done well. Disengage and come back to me. We need to leave, and soon.
I am returning, Lord.
"Brace yourselves!" a shout comes from above. "Prepare for a hard landing, boys!" The crew scramble to secure themselves, and Fiona lashes herself to the gunwale as well. "Hang on, we'll want our wits about us once the ship comes to a halt."
It is a remarkably easy crash, which is to say that the ship stays mostly upright and while the hull is ruined, the ship doesn't break up. There are quite a few trees and rocks that no longer are where they once were, and it's clear that the ship will never fly again, but the crew seems to have survived with no casualties.
"I think it's time we made our appearance and departure." says Fiona, cutting herself free of her safety-lines. She points her dagger at the riders, who are dropping towards the meadow like the inevitable sunset.
"I'm with you," Edan says, searching the sky with a little trepidation, looking for his affine. Otherwise, he stays by Fiona, wherever she chooses to make their appearance.
Fiona directs the sailors into a nearby cave, and tells them to defend the entrance. They move quickly. "I'm manipulating the storm," she says, and Edan can see it becoming worse. It will be hard for the Gheneshi to stay aloft, much less a-mount in this. "That should give the crew cover."
The rain is hard, heavy, and the lighting is flashing in vicious balls between the low clouds.
Kyauta comes in lands hard on Edan's shoulder. It wraps its thick tail around Edan's neck.
Through the storm, during bursts of blinding light and claps of thunder, Edan sees the Moonriders, circling the wreckage. Fiona is holding a deck of cards, carefully under her cloak. "They've seen us, now. We should go. Amber, or do you wish to call in a favor with one of your uncles or cousins? I care not where we go."
"Amber," Edan says without hesitation. "No point calling in a favor if it's not needed, and it won't be long until I'll be heading right back out into the Shadows. Unless this counts as a favor with Uncle Caine nowadays."
Fiona looks less the alabaster perfect princess when she is dripping wet. Her grin is almost feral. "If my brother wishes to attempt to collect favors for allowing the use of Amber Castle trumps, I can make other arrangements. This way, he's informed when we arrive."
She lifts the deck closer to Edan. "Go, I'll be right behind you." The sky lights up with multiple flashes of lightning, giving Edan a clear view of a rain-soaked castle under much nicer (if no drier) conditions than their present locale.
Edan finds himself in a colder rain outside the open gate to Castle Amber. "Who goes?," comes the challenge from the guardpost.
Edan gives the cold rain a baleful eye, and makes sure to keep his hands away from his weapons. They might even have gotten a glimpse of his eyes, which he's sure has been a subject of conversation out of his hearing since first coming to Amber. "Edan and," he glances back where he stepped through, "Princess Fiona of Amber and Xanadu." Some sense of pride or ego buried inside him causes Edan to stand tall and ignore the misery of the weather. "Don't shoot."
"Welcome home, Your Highness," the guard says to the Princess, who has arrived a moment after Edan. "Shall I inform your brother of your arrival?" He ignores Edan.
"Thank you, Pleat, that will not be necessary. I will be leaving from the stable."
She turns to Edan. "Thank you for your assistance. If you'd like to join me, we can discuss your concerns as we travel."
Edan doesn't look at all suprised that Pleat ignored him. But he does remember. He offers an arm for Fiona, should she want to take it. "It was my pleasure. And yes, if you would, I would speak of airships and experiments."
She takes his arm and they walk towards the stables. "Airships are generally more your father's specialty, while experiments are mine, present circumstances excepted." She stops in the open door of the stables and turns to the nearest stableboy.
"Please fetch us some dry towels and then send for a stablemaster." The boy darts off.
Edan looks a little sad, knowing that Aramsham is in Xanadu, and decides that he'd better not try to bend the universe to change that. Not here and not now, anyway. He does smile a little and touches his fingers to his forehead, yielding the first question to Fiona. It is, after all, her prerogative to begin if she wants it.
Fiona is not interested in companionable silence. She dries herself off with one of the towels the stableboy brings them. "I am afraid I have distracted you from the errand you called me upon. You wished to know how to create a bird of desire?"
Edan smiles a little, puts aside the conversation he is working on in his head, and says, "Indeed, yes. If you have the time to do so, of course."
She nods. "I can tell you all that can be told in the ride down the mountain, but you will have to practice on your own. Mother would call it a highly inefficient way to make an affine, but it's actually an act of order."
The stablemaster arrives, and bows to each of them. "I will need a palfrey, I will be taking her to town, and possibly Garnath, and she will be returning. Please saddle one for me."
"Yes, your Highness," he says, and cuffs a stableboy who runs off on the errand. "And your Lordship?" he says, to Edan.
Edan hesitates, then smiles. "I'll be riding onward to Xanadu from town. My horse there is an Arabian stallion. You know your horses; I trust you to pick a good fit for me."
The stableman nods. "I've a somewhat willful stallion that should be delivered to Donovan in Xanadu. He should suit you, if you're used to the temperament of the Arabians. Do you need any traveling supplies, my Lord?"
[OOC: If that's not suitable, he'll find something else that is.]
He arranges for this horse to be saddled and brought out with Fiona's mount. Soon they are riding out of the castle.
Fiona rides delicately, but has no troubles handling the horse beneath her.
"A bird of your desire is an expression of your will, encapsulated, externalized, and assigned a task. It is a thing you would do, and you use your power over the pattern to do that thing without the rest of your body being involved.
"The blood is not, strictly, necessary, but it is the most useful focus and component.
"The task you would do must be something you feel strongly about it, and it must not require much more than willpower to accomplish. 'Deliver the message' or 'let no man pass'. Simple commands are best; it doesn't think."
She goes on to tell Edan the mechanics of it, using some mathematics, but mostly concentrating on the practical aspects.
She smiles. "It's such an ingrained expectation of mine that proximity to the pattern drowns out our abilities, that I almost told you to wait before you try this, but Amber is no longer a pole of Order."
She looks at him, expectantly.
Edan unsheathes his knife, decides that he can hang on well enough if the stallion gets skittish at the smell of blood, then pauses. "It sounds as though the duration, if one is setting it to guard, for example, has a direct relationship to the amount of will that one invests. But I hadn't thought of it like our power over Shadow. I hadn't considered the proximity to a Pattern. If I created a bird of desire to send a message to you, for example, and you were in Xanadu, would it ever reach you?"
She rides on, taking the switchbacks above Amber smoothly."That would depend entirely on your will, and sometimes on the will of others. Corwin says he once called a bird of his desire and sent it to Avalon, but it was intercepted by Father and sent him to Lorraine. Sometimes it is more important to read your own omens than to force your will on the universe, especially if the universe if pushing back. In Xanadu, it would depend on Random.
"The bird will reflect your intent and your state of mind. If you send a message of hate, it may be black or incarnadine. If you send a message of hope or good-will, it may be white. If your motives are confused, it may be wildly colored."
She pauses. "I would not expect a guardian to be a successful calling, but you should feel free to experiment with it, assuming you can do so without suffering too much blood loss." Edan can't see it, because she's ridden ahead, but the Princess may be smiling. "Once you learn the trick of it, you will eventually be able to bypass the bloodletting stage.
It becomes Edan's turn to smile. "I hope so. Blood-magic was one of the things Father taught me in Shadow. Knives and bleeding and reading omens in the entrails of animals and reanimating the dead. Not the same thing, I grant you, but I quickly had my fill of cutting myself. It didn't work, of course; no Sorcery worked until I made the pilgrimage to the City of Brass."
She nods. "There is magic and there is Sorcery. Until one can make the Universe look away while you change it, the best one can hope for is shadow-mageries."
He makes a shallow slash along his palm with the knife, and closes his hand against the sudden welling of blood. For a full minute Edan concentrates, dredging up focus, puts extraneous thoughts and distractions aside. I will bring this blood up from my body, and it will convey my Will, is the thought that dominates in his head. There will be such a bird, a creation from my body. It shall precede me and perch in the trees at the outskirts of the city of Amber and herald our arrival in the song of birds. This will happen, for I will make it so. Strangely moved, he leans forward to breathe the breath of life onto his hands, then opens his slashed palm towards the sky.
His stallion jerks and Edan's gaze is suddenly distracted. He hears a fluttering and then there is nothing.
Shall I follow, My Lord? asks Kyauta.
Edan relaxes, and speaks for Fiona's benefit. "Yes, follow it and see what it does," he says. "The bird should perch near the edge of town and sing as we arrive." He looks over at Fiona to get her opinion. "I... I did not see what it looked like."
Kyauta takes off. His draconic wings are bright red in the sunlight.
Fiona watches. "Make sure your affine does it no mischief. Pattern and Chaos do not co-exist in harmony and it might attempt to eliminate a rival."
She takes a turn and looks down at Amber City below her and sighs. "That, of course, was not the kind of task a bird of desire is best at, and I will be interested to see if it can sing. It's not really a bird, just a bird-shaped embodiment of your will."
"Hmm..." Kyauta, make sure to leave it alone, just observe and report. I want to see what it does. I don't expect it to last long.
"You never know until you try," Edan replies to Fiona. "You already know I have artistic leanings. So much of our power over Shadow is based on perception and visualization, I thought it might extend to something external like this. Speaking of, I understand the advantages of it being a bird, but has anyone ever tried different animals? Mammals? Fish?"
She turns back to look at him. "It's an esoteric form, and few seriously practice it. It's expensive and limited and there are usually more direct ways of sending a message in this family. I don't know of anyone who has experimented with other forms." She smiles. "That is mostly because those who could generally have sorcery, which tends to do the job better."
Edan nods his understanding. "Not having seen or heard of other forms, I figured that it had been tried and discarded. Mostly, I wondered what you would do if you were in a place under water. Those Shells outside Rebma, for example." He smiles, briefly. "More direct ways, yes. I took your advice and talked to Random about a deck of Trumps. It became something of a side-quest, as he wanted me to track down a deck that was lost."
She turns towards him and raises an eyebrow, and asks one question: "Whose?"
Not for the first time, Edan wonders if he's created a faux pas; but, then, Random never said anything about a secret. "His. It was back when he went on his quest to help Brand in the tower, before everyone knew what was going on. Somewhere between encountering the tower's guardians and being chased through Shadow by grackleflints, the deck was lost. It may very well be destroyed, considering the description of the place he gave to me." A pause. "If I understand things correctly, I may intrude upon your sphere of influence by looking for it. I thought it proper to tell you."
She nods. "It's not at the tower, either we'd've found it or Brand would've summoned it. I'd imagine the Brass Legion has it. You'll have to speak to General Emil, or perhaps Mother."
"That...is a longer trip than I anticipated," Edan says. "I do not know this General. I suppose I can take readings with this sextant on the way, and at least determine what it's triangulating against."
"Emil runs the Legion for your Grandmother. He has a rare trait for a Grackleflint: ambition. He might even give it to you without Mother's intervention, if you explained how it benefitted him."
As the pair of riders rounds the last bend, they see Amber's gates and the final approach ahead of them. On a tree, they see Kyauta first. Next to it is a greyish-pinkish bird, smaller than a pigeon, It looks like it is attempting to make a sound, but nothing comes out.
Edan nods his head, not at all surprised. (OOC: and shows Corwin's mastery of this, when his silver hawk took off with a screech against Julian's bird in the books, though I suppose that might be considered just shadow-juggling). "That's a strange mood," Edan says. "I will, of course, keep practicing. Thank you, Aunt Fiona. You have done me a great favor."
Fiona nods. "Have I? I hope I have not done you a great harm. You should remember when you use it that some things, like blood and power, take strength with them when you use them quickly. Be cautious until you know the measure of what you do. Eric overextended himself fighting the black road invaders and it killed him. "
The guards at the castle gate have spotted the pair of riders and are attempting to look more alert as the riders approach.
Last modified: 26 February 2013