Tales of Regventus Book Three: Raya

Max sat with Griffa and Issa in the study after dinner. They would go to the Valley in two days. Griffa was sitting behind the desk looking at the large book Max had handed her as he and Issa sat in front of the desk watching her.

“So, you are saying that the way blood magic potions and spells affect others can change after they have been drunk or cast?” asked Griffa, quickly reading over a page Max had marked.

“In some cases, yes. It depends on the spell or potion, who casted or made it, and how well it was made,” replied Max.

“You gave me a blood potion to save my life. Are you telling me I could still be affected by it?” asked Griffa looking up at Max and Issa.

“You could,” said Issa slowly. “But from what we have found only if Ansel intended you harm at some point since it was his magical blood we used. I don’t see that ever being an issue. It would probably only affect your magic too since his was used to preserve your magic.”

“What about your blood, Issa? Yours was used to save my life. Could your blood affect anything?” asked Griffa. “I’m not saying you intend me harm. I just want to know in general terms.”

“I don’t think it would. I have no magical blood so it should have no effect. I would never want anything bad to happen to you, but even if I did, it shouldn’t matter,” explained Issa.

“We don’t really know, though. It was very rare for a non-magical blooded person to give blood willingly during the time blood magic was more popular. Sadly, it was usually a sacrifice,” said Max.

“One of the many reasons I don’t like blood magic.” Griffa looked back down at the book. “You also say it matters how well it was made, and who made it. What do you mean by that?”

“Well, first, if it was not done correctly that could have serious effects,” said Max, thinking. “But don’t worry, Griffa, I was very careful when brewing your potion. I made sure to get it right.”

Griffa nodded and smiled at Max. “And why does who makes a potion matter?”

“As you know only magical blooded folk can brew a potion. Issa could try to throw the ingredients in a pot, and it would not work. So, the magic put it in by the magical blooded person has an effect on the potion long after it is made. His or Her intent can play a large role,” said Max. He got up and walked behind Griffa and pointed to a passage he had found that backed up his claim.

“Very interesting,” said Griffa reading where Max indicated. “This is all very good information, well done, you two.”

“We will keep looking for more information. Is there anything you want us to look for in particular?” asked Max. Griffa closed the book as Max returned to his chair in front of her desk.

“Can you find out what effect a magical blooded person’s blood given unwilling would have?” requested Griffa.

Issa grabbed a quill and piece of paper off of Griffa’s desk and quickly made a note. “Yes, we can. We will start looking tomorrow.”

“Thank you both,” said Griffa standing up. “Don’t forget we will be leaving for the Valley in two days. You will need to be packed and ready by breakfast the day we leave.”

Issa nodded as Max asked, “Are we going to be able to travel straight there or will we have to travel from the forest?”

“We can leave from here. We have to be out on the back lawn at the correct time or we will miss our window. Abscon and the Valley will both put down their wards for two minutes. It should give us plenty of time to travel,” replied Griffa as she walked from around her desk towards the door. “I’m going to go on to bed. You two don’t stay up to late working, or whatever it is you do.” Griffa gave them both a look and walked out the door.

Max turned to Issa whose face was bright right.

“I suppose she’s right. We should go to bed. We’ve been staying up too late,” said Issa standing up and picking up the book Griffa was reading.

Max came over and took the book from her. “But I like staying up late with you.” Max put the book on the shelf behind the desk. Issa flopped back down in the chair and looked at Max with a sad smile. “What’s wrong? Don’t be embarrassed. I guess we could be more careful where we meet.” Max walked over and sat down next to Issa. He moved his chair, so he was facing her.

“It’s not that. What do you think The Valley will be like?” asked Issa looking at Max.

“I’m not sure, probably a lot like here. Why do you ask?”

“I’m used to the people here. They still give me weird looks and whisper about me, but I’m used to it. I wonder what it will be like in The Valley when people find out I’m non-magical, especially when they find out I’m with you.”

“People whisper about you here?” asked Max angrily. “Why?”

“Max, you are their king. I’m sure they expect you to have a magical queen someday. They must not know what to make of me,” said Issa looking down.

“It’s none of their concern.” Max took Issa’s hand and caught her eye so she would look at him. “I love you. I won’t be the king without you by my side. Besides, I have read about other kings and queen who have had non-magical consorts. It’s been done many times.”

“Still, there are other things that are different about us,” sighed Issa.

“Like what?” asked Max.

“We won’t age the same. You know that. Look at Ansel and Griffa. Ansel barely looks older than Griffa, but he’s more than 12 years older than her.”

“So, it won’t matter to me,” said Max adamantly. “Are you unhappy here, Issa? Do you want to leave?”

“No, of course not. I love you, Max. I never want to leave you. I just think we need to be realistic about out differences,” replied Issa.

Max got up and went over to a shelf on the right side of the room. He searched until he saw the book he wanted. He pulled it out, and another smaller book fell out with it. He picked both books up. Issa got up and came over to him.

“What books are those?” asked Issa.

“This large one is all about the different kings and queens through history. I wanted you to read it so you could learn about all the non-magical consorts that have existed,” Max handed the large green book to Issa and held the other in his hand. “This other book, I don’t know.”

Max looked at the small book. It was very old. It was red with a faded image of a golden falcon on the front and a white sun on the back.

“I think it is some kind of journal,” observed Issa looking at the book in Max’s hand. “It looks very old.”

“It does,” agreed Max and for some reason it interested him a great deal. He tucked the small book by his side and looked at Issa. “Come on, you need to get some sleep. You’ll feel better about all this tomorrow.”

Max and Issa walked side by side to the door. He opened the door and held it open for her as she stepped out. Max walked out and closed the door behind them. They walked into the parlor hand in hand to move through the room to the staircase. Max was just thinking of stalling Issa for a moment to partake in a few good night kisses, when he spotted Ansel in a chair by the fire.

“Ansel,” said Max. “I thought you would be upstairs.”

“I’m going up in a minute. I wanted to have a word with you before bed,” said Ansel looking at both Issa and Max.

Issa turned to Max and kissed him lightly on his lips. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Issa,” said Max smiling at her. He held her hand for a moment and gave it one last squeeze.

“Good night, Ansel,” said Issa as she walked by him. Ansel nodded in return.

Max sat down in a chair across from Ansel and looked at him. He stared at Max for a few minutes without saying anything. He seemed to be studying Max, trying to figure something out.

“Is something wrong, Ansel?” asked Max.

“No, I was just…it’s nothing. I wanted to talk to you about The Valley,” said Ansel. “The folk there will be excited to see you. They may overwhelm you. I want you to know you are in no way expected to be on display. I don’t want you to think you have to act a certain way or perform for them.”

“What do you mean perform for them?” Max sat up straighter in his chair.

“They may believe things about you since you are of the blood of Adalwen. They also have probably heard about what happened in the forest at the end of the summer. They may ask you to perform powerful magic.”

“But I didn’t do that alone, Ansel. I couldn’t have done any of that without Griffa and probably you,” said Max.

“I know that, but stories grow when they are told over long distances. I just don’t want you to be caught off guard. Griffa and I will try to be around you at all times when we are in public, but don’t feel you have to prove anything to anyone.”

Max nodded his head. “Thank you, Ansel. Is that all?”

Ansel looked at Max for a moment. “What do you remember about the forest that day. I mean, what do you remember happening when the Aurumist soldiers disappeared?”

Max was caught off guard by this question. He wondered why Ansel was speaking of this now. “It was all very quick and confusing. I remember closing my eyes, and Griffa grabbing my hand. I remember feeling her magic join mine somehow. I had no doubts we could do what we need to do. I opened my eyes, and the soldiers disappeared. Then there was a bright light, and my hand was very warm.”

“What do you remember about me?” asked Ansel looking at Max intently.

Max wasn’t sure where this questioning was going. “I don’t know. I know you were there, helping to block spells and curses, but in that moment, I only remember Griffa, the magic, and the light.”

Ansel stared at Max with a frown.

“Are you sure there isn’t something wrong, Ansel?”

Ansel blinked and sat up straight. “No, not all. I’m just still trying to work out what happened that night.”

Max nodded. He still wasn’t sure what had happened that night, either. He had discussed it with Griffa for hours, but they never did arrive at a conclusion beyond the power of their magic increased due to the situation.

Ansel stood up. “Come on, Max. We both need to go to bed.”

Max nodded again and together they walked up the stairs.

The next day was bright and sunny. Though not warm, it was at least bearable to be outside. Ansel and Max took advantage of the warmer weather to practice dueling and fine tune some of Max’s newest magical skills. Griffa and Issa worked on archery on the other side of the lawn. Before going into lunch, Max and Ansel watched them shoot apples that Griffa had charmed to fly in the sky. Max noted that Issa had gotten quite good.

“That was impressive,” said Max to Issa as they all walked into the house for lunch.

“Thank you, I’ve had a great teacher,” said Issa looking at Griffa.

Griffa waved her hand, “You’re being modest. You have natural ability, and you have worked very hard. I’ve done nothing but show you the basics. You are already much better than me.”

Issa smiled at Griffa and then turned to Max, “What were you two working on this morning?”

“Just some new spells for defense. I’m trying to work on my blocking. It’s not one of my strong points,” said Max as they entered the house and walked to the dining room.

“It’s good thing you are fast,” said Ansel sitting down at the table. “You can dodge and even outrun many spells and curses.”

“I’d like to be able to protect others as well,” said Max ladling some stew into his bowl. “I don’t just want to run away if others are in danger.”

“I understand, Max, but when it comes down to us all being in fight, your safety has to be our first priority,” said Griffa. “You will need to take care of yourself first. You are the king.”

“And you’ve taught me that the most important than as king is to worry about others, Griffa.”

“That’s true in general, but I think Griffa is trying to say that when we do find ourselves in a fight, you will need to be protected at all times. We are fighting to put you on the throne,” pointed out Ansel as he poured a glass of wine.

Max took a bite of his stew and thought over this. He hadn’t really thought what would happen if something happened to him. Did they have a backup plan if Max was killed or decided not to be king? A while back, Griffa had said they would come up with something else if Max had decided not to claim the title, but he never did learn what that would be.

“What time will you leave tomorrow?” asked Maybell looking at Griffa.

Griffa took a moment, swallowing a bite of stew. “Directly after breakfast. We need to make sure all of our bags and packages are out on the back lawn before breakfast. We won’t have much time to spare if we want to make our window for magically traveling out of here.”

“It will be quiet here for Mid-Winter this year. Not that we’ve had any large winter celebrations in the manor for a while,” said Maybell sadly.

“I know this trip is bad timing, Maybell. I’m sorry we won’t be around, but aren’t you going to visit your niece for the celebration, aren’t you?” Griffa gave Maybell an encouraging smile.

“I am. I think Wallis is going to come as well. Jonthon will go to his brothers like always. I’ll still miss you, my dear. I don’t think we’ve been apart for the entire Mid-Winter celebration since you were born.”

Griffa reached over and squeezed Maybell’s hand. “I will miss you as well, but you will have a nice time at your niece’s home. You need to invite her to have dinner with us sometimes when we get back.”

Maybell nodded.

“I hope everyone is packed or almost packed and not waiting until the last minute,” said Ansel looking directly at Max.

Max cast his eyes to the floor. How did Ansel know he hadn’t even started packing? He looked up at Ansel. “I’m almost packed; you don’t need to pester me. You know for me being the king, you sure do seem in charge of my life.”

“That is because you are young and unexperienced. I am sure one day when you are older you can be counted on to pack without me having to remind you twenty times,” said Ansel in response.

After lunch, Max went up to his room to start preparing for their trip to the Valley. He sat on his bed looking at his empty case, trying to go over what he might need to take with him. He moved his hand and summed a couple of tunics and pairs of pants. He folded them haphazardly and stuffed them in his case. As he moved his case a small book fell on the floor. Max picked it up and saw it was the journal he had found the night before.

Thinking he could take a short break from packing, he opened the book and read the first page. It only had a faded name written on it, Malin Keene. Max flipped the next page and saw that it was dated almost five hundred years ago.

This must have been one of the first Keene’s to live in the manor, thought Max.

Max turned the page and started reading the faded writing as best he could. He read:

Mother has started transitioning leadership of the Ring over to me. She said she is ready to step down and spend more time with father. She said now that I am married and settled, I need to learn the responsibility of leading the Ring and the family. I am not sure of the trust she has placed in me. Mother was born to lead. She was destined to be the leader of her people. She was trained for her position her whole life. I have grown up as the loved, and dare I say, spoiled daughter of a wealthy family.

Not to say my mother has not tried to prepare me my whole life. She has drilled responsibility and duty in my head for as long as I can remember. I do want to make her proud. I want to do what is right for our people. I wonder what responsibilities my brother is facing in the Valley. Surely, he has some. I wonder if he feels the same level of unease as I do.

Max stopped reading and wondered why Malin’s brother would be in the Valley. Wouldn’t he have grown up in Keene Manor the same as Malin? Malin must have been the oldest sibling to be the leader of the Ring. Perhaps her brother was sent to The Valley to establish leadership there? Max looked down to read more from the journal when there was a knock at his door.

“Yes?” called out Max.

“It’s Ansel. You are packing in there, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” called back Max. He sighed and closed the diary, packing it in with a shirt that was close to his bed. He would have to read more when they got to the Valley.