The Missing Traveller

Alister had no expectations about Materon, but if he had, they would’ve been mistaken. Rindor spread throughout its forests, but Materon seemed to be all in one place. Buildings stacked atop each other, and pressed in side by side. They seemed too narrow. There couldn’t be much room in the houses.

As they walked up the stairs which led through the centre of the town, Alister stared at the houses which lined the road the same way trees did in Rindor.

“Ali?”

Alister turned. Eugene had the expression again. He said something, and was waiting for answer. “I’m sorry?”

Eugene pushed the pouch of berries towards him. “Would you like a laopea?”

Alister nodded and took a small handful of the strange white berries. His eyes lingered on the town as he chewed down on the snowberry, so when it burst in his mouth with a strange sweet and minty flavour, he choked in surprise.

“They’ve got some zing, don’t they?” Eugene chuckled, and tossed more berries in his own beard-lined mouth. “Well, here we are!”

Eugene opened one of the nearby doors for Alister. “Tell them I invited you in, alright? I’m going to put Juggle back in the stalls.”

Alister stood in the doorway and watched Eugene go, dazed. No more than ten minutes before, he suspected he’d been unconscious. The deep scratch on his arm throbbed, and he couldn’t stop shivering. It surely wasn’t so cold the day before.

“Hello, Eugene?”

Alister turned to face inside, where the voice came from, and his mouth fell open. The house was wide, not narrow as it appeared from the outside. It was much more spacious than his own house had been, rivalling even the buildings of Rindor’s town square. Rindor.

“How…”

His eyes fell upon a couple of women. One was close to Eugene’s age, and the other was no older than fourteen. They stared at him, and it occurred to Alister he was a stranger standing and gaping at the entrance to their home.

“Eugene…he invited me in.” Alister continued staring around the house, his cloudy, fatigued mind unable to comprehend how it was larger on the inside. He was about to spin on his heel and examine the outside again, but the younger woman spoke in a high, clear voice.

“It’s built into the cliff, so they’re more spacious and stable. You look like you’re from out of town. Who are you?”

Alister raised his eyebrows as he inspected the house. How peculiar. He raised a foot to walk inside, and found his legs stumbled beneath him.

“You’re ill.” The older woman came at once to his side. “Sit on the couch.”

“Very kind.” Few families would take in a stranger who only claimed to know one of them. He slumped onto the couch and the woman pressed her strangely cool palm on his forehead.

“Fever. Can you tell me your name?”

“That’s Ali!” A booming voice answered from outside. “Found him just down at the end of Pillian Falls Passage, didn’t I? He’d an encounter with a jaguar, and the poor lad looks as if he’d been travelling for days!”

“A jaguar?” The younger woman brushed her long, dark hair out of her eyes and twirled it into her braid. She’d come to sit on the floor next to the other woman, and watched Alister with wide grey eyes. She saw Alister staring at her and blinked. “Oh! I’m Youka Poels. This is my aunt, Ama.”

“That’s an infection, alright.” Ama shook her head at his arm. “Youka, can you get me the bandages and some infection salve?”

Youka’s head bobbed, and she left the room. Eugene sat on the seat next to Alister while Ama placed her gentle hand on his arm and closed her eyes. Alister furrowed his eyebrows. She looked for a moment like Estelle when she’d healed the burn on his arm, only days ago.

“Are you Marked?” Alister was surprised at how faint his voice was. “Are you healing me?” His arm cooled for a small moment. It was a relief between the throbbing.

Ama opened her eyes and gave a tight smile. “Yes. I am an Enchanter. But I cannot heal, no matter how hard I try. My aptitudes lie within sensing and nature enhancement. They’re still useful aptitudes for a healer, though, aren’t they? I can feel where the infection resides with candra, and how deep your cut is. I can make salves from the best-grown herbs, and sense the perfect balance between the ingredients.”

Youka returned with a bag of supplies, and Ama cleaned his cut with a pungent salve which stung his nostrils as well as his arm. Alister composed his expression to mask the pain.

“So, Ali, where’s home for you?” Youka held the bandages for Ama, but raised her eyebrows at Alister. “You’re obviously not from Materon, or you wouldn’t be so shocked when you saw the built-in houses, would you?” She laughed.

Alister hesitated. “Nowhere.”

He would still have a home if he’d just waited for his friends. If Lark had come to Rindor. If he hadn’t swapped all of his classes. If he’d just made sure Morgana wasn’t home. If he never even met Lark. But what of Ronan, then? Lark’s message was a mystery, and now the bird had vanished. Alister’s eyebrows pulled down.

Eugene laughed, and Alister winced. “You can’t have no home, can you? Ali, where are you from?”

Rindor. Where he shattered the Atwood’s lives by taking away their home and a part of their family. Alister’s heart hammered, and the ache whenever he thought of his family and his former home returned to eclipse even the pain of his arm. His mother’s desperate search for him, and his father’s sorrowful resignation… It would’ve been so easy to return to them.

Ama’s voice was a lullaby. “Now, now, the boy doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to. He could be a traveller, or born between towns. It won’t do to make assumptions and press him for information.”

Eugene huffed and rolled his eyes at his sister. “Alright, Ama. But I have another question for you, Ali. Where are you headed?”

Alister had avoided the question himself, even after days of travel. He supposed if he determined what Lark’s message meant, the answer would direct his travel. But Ronan’s disappearance left him at a loss.

“I don’t know…yet.” He flinched as Ama wrapped a clean bandage tight around his arm.

“Enough questions!” Ama shooed Eugene with her hand. “Ali must rest now. He has a fever to break and an infection to heal, doesn’t he? Drink.”

Alister drank. The woman had an aura of authority, knowledge, and serenity which made her easy to obey. The drink seemed to be made of sour laopeas and moss, and he swallowed with a grimace. He was vaguely aware of the conversation revolving around him. They spoke of him, his illness, and his home. Before long, his eyelids became too heavy to hold.

When Alister woke, nobody sat on the couches next to him like they had before. His eyes took a minute to adjust. Only Eugene was in the room, at the kitchen preparing food.

The thick woollen blankets wrapped around Alister were soaked, and he pulled them off; his fever had broken. Aside from the sweat, he felt much stronger. He glanced down at his arm. The new bandage was pristine—wrapped tight and still exuding the odour of Ama’s bitter salve—much cleaner than his makeshift attempt. It no longer throbbed with pain, but Alister had a feeling it had only been numbed, not healed. He was tempted to lift the bandage and inspect the wound, but he was more interested in it healing than its appearance.

Instead, he watched Eugene. The old man packed the prepared food into small cloth packages and then into pouches. He’d said to Alister he was only visiting Materon from Farmont; perhaps he was returning home soon. Alister would’ve given anything to be able to return to Rindor. To go back and stop himself from what he did. He could’ve gone on living in his home, with his friends and family, and he would be content with living an ordinary life.

Except for Ronan, and the number eighty-three.

Alister’s frown deepened. Perhaps he should show the Poels the message.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Alister blinked in surprise. Eugene stood in front of him. He hadn’t noticed him leave the kitchen, but then again, he’d only paid attention to himself the past two days. It may’ve only been a short time, but Alister felt far from his old self. It could’ve been weeks rather than days.

“Ali? How do you feel?”

“Okay, I suppose.” It was true enough, for what Eugene meant by the question. “Cold.”

“Encounters with jaguars, travelling without a destination…” Eugene chuckled as he sat next to him. The old man shook his hand as if drying it, and then placed it on Alister’s forehead. It was unusually warm. “Hmm. You’re on quite the adventure, aren’t you?”

The corners of Alister’s mouth turned down thoughtfully. He’d wanted adventure. He’d longed for it. The Divine must’ve been more active—and crueller—than he thought, if this was how his wish was fulfilled. Perhaps this was adventure, and the great tales of Gamaliel the Destroyer and the Age of War and Aurelius the Gallant were glorified, skipping all the moments of doubt, shame and fear. Professor Lindon once told him history was told by the winners, and winners exaggerate.

Alister hadn’t answered Eugene, again. He cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t call it…an adventure.”

“Then what would you call it?”

Alister shrugged, and it made him wince in pain. “Hmm. An accident.” But Lark sending Ronan to him with a note which read his name…that couldn’t be an accident. Where’s that bird?

Eugene raised his thick eyebrows, but didn’t press him for explanations. “Myself, I’m not on an adventure either. But my journey isn’t accidental, is it?” Alister didn’t need to ask him about it; Eugene seemed to enjoy talking so much, he barely paused to take a breath. “I was born here in Materon. But you know that already, don’t you? Told you yesterday!”

“Yesterday? I’ve slept a whole day?”

“You sure have.” Eugene chuckled again. “Ama’s healing nectar is quite potent, isn’t it? But you should be feeling much better by now.”

Despite all of Alister’s persistence in travelling for as long and far as he physically could, he’d still spent an entire day in one place. Considering what happened to him, he supposed he’d travelled as far as he physically could. Besides, my parents went home. They’re not looking for me anymore.

“You’re not in a hurry to leave, are you?” Eugene’s brow furrowed at Alister’s grimace. “I didn’t mean to halt your ‘accident’. I meant only to make sure the infection didn’t get the better of you. You were looking pretty grim on the side of the Passage yesterday, weren’t you?”

Alister suppressed a sigh. Eugene had only tried to help. “I know. I appreciate it. But I didn’t mean to stay.”

“You said you didn’t know where you were headed, didn’t you, Ali?”

He nodded. “I’m going to keep on travelling until…” Alister hesitated. Until when? Until he was far enough away from Rindor? Until he’d all but forgotten about his old life? Until the number eighty-three made sense to him? His shoulders slumped. “For a long time.”

“You know, Ali, it’s alright if you don’t have a plan.” Eugene gave him a slight smile tinged with something. Was it pity? Alister grimaced. “If you’d like, you can travel with me until you figure it out. How would that be? We can ride the arglebon. I come and visit Materon every year, so I know where all of the traveller’s outposts are. And if it rains, I make a mighty shield.” Eugene gestured to his hands. “I may be a Conjurer, but burn me if I can do little more than make a barrier and turn my hands into heated cloths.” He frowned at his hands. “You’d think after fifty years I could conjure a flame, wouldn’t you? Anyway, think on it. Travelling alone can be dangerous to the mind and the body.” He laughed, as if he’d said something funny. Alister’s own sense of humour abandoned him days ago. It wouldn’t surprise him if he never laughed again.

Alister’s initial reaction was to say no. The man talked too much. Any talking at all was too much for Alister’s current state.

“Hello?”

Both he and Eugene’s eyes went to the doorway, where a man stood in a grey coat with red trim. A whisked collar circled his neck, and a broad brimmed hat hung on his hand.

“I’m Defender Lysander. Ama asked for some extra supplies?” He held up a crate, just as Ama and Youka came through the same door.

“Ah, there you are.” Ama took the crate from his hands. “Thank you.” She marched to Alister’s side and set down the crate.

Lysander grinned at Ama and smoothed his blonde, curly hair. “As curt as always.”

“Would you like to stay for some tea?” Youka tucked a dark brown lock behind her ear. “And please tell me you’ll accept some compensation for the supplies, this time.”

Lysander laughed and followed Youka inside. “The tea is compensation enough.”

“How are you feeling?” Ama asked Alister, and Eugene returned to the kitchen with Lysander and Youka.

That’s a Defender? Supposed keepers of the peace and seekers of justice from Deemstun, Lark’s descriptions made them out to be stern and cruel minions. But the merchant said once Baudouin took over the throne, the Defenders changed their tune. Lark didn’t change his mind about them like most of the Union had, however. He maintained their masks only hid Baudouin’s true intentions to regain Deemstun’s historical reign over the entire Union. Alister watched Lysander laugh with Eugene and Youka.

Ama’s question was nearly lost on him. What had she asked? How he was feeling.

“Better than yesterday.”

“Youka!”

The girl looked at Ama, and her conversation with Lysander stopped abruptly as she rushed to her aunt’s side.

Youka watched her aunt with attentive eyes as Ama soaked a small piece of fabric in a liquid she brought out of the crate. Alister looked down at his wound as she dabbed it, and his eyebrows shot up. It didn’t ooze as it had the day before, and the line of the scratch sealed itself with a dark red scab.

“Has it really been just one day?” Alister’s eyes fixed on his arm. Ama looked at Youka with raised eyebrows, and the young woman nodded.

“The salve’s main ingredients are pyne tar, comfrey leaves and jadar minerals. They each have properties which, together, draw out infections, seal the skin, and…hmm. Oh! Numb the pain. Usually with infections that come on so strongly and quickly, it can take longer to heal. But of course, Ama makes the best drawing salve in Materon, so it doesn’t take long for your wound to look as if it were a couple of days old.”

“How are those ingredients prepared?” Ama continued to tend to Alister’s arm. Youka went on to describe the process of refining pyne wood to tar and extracting minerals from jadar. Alister was reminded of the verbal examinations Professor Knot would put the students through at the academy. He’d only four months left of study at the academy of Rindor before he left. Then he, Gale, and Louis would join their families’ trades.

Alister’s pained expression would be taken as a reaction to Ama’s wiping of his arm.

At the end of the explanation, Ama nodded. “Good.”

Youka beamed and glanced at Alister. “I’m still at the academy for another three years. But Ama’s teaching me how to be a healer.”

“Are you Marked, too?”

Youka shook her head, her bottom lip jutting out. “Unfortunately, no. But Materon needs more healers before winter. There’s a sickness that came last year, and Ama suspects it has adapted. It’s not cold enough to be a problem yet, but when it is, I’ll be ready.” She smiled. “But Lysander and the other Defenders have delivered a huge batch of supplies for us this year, so that’ll be a real help.”

Alister had to stop himself from telling her about the bad bout of illness Rindor experienced last winter, or about Baudouin’s plan to win over the Union to Deemstun. Instead, he just nodded, and watched Lysander and Eugene talk in the kitchen.

“Drink this.” Ama pushed a brown cup into his hand. This time, Alister sniffed it reluctantly. “It’s only for healing. This one won’t put you to sleep.”

Youka’s eyes lit up. “Do you want some honey with it? It makes it taste a whole lot better.”

Without waiting for a reply, she dashed off to the kitchen and returned with a small jar of honey.

Ama’s voice told of a tired debate. “Youka, the honey won’t make it heal him any faster. Sometimes, there isn’t enough time to waste some tending to the patient’s personal needs.”

Youka scooped some of the warm, thick honey into his cup and raised her eyebrows. “I know that. But when there is time, don’t you think we should make patients like Ali as comfortable as possible?”

Ama sniffed and gathered her supplies. Youka gestured to the cup, and Alister drank. She was right; it was better than it had yesterday, even if it did leave a foul bitterness on his tongue.

“Thank you. You’re all very kind.”

Eugene shot Alister a smile from the kitchen. “I hope you’ll join me tomorrow. I’m leaving around midday.”

“I’ll think about it.” He was still drowsy from Ama’s healing nectar. Eugene was right. After only three days of travelling alone, he’d collapsed in exhaustion more than once, questioned his own sanity every hour, and managed to get himself attacked by a jaguar. His food supply was diminished, and his legs too weak to walk all day for much longer.

If he travelled with Eugene, the man could distract him from his haunting thoughts, and Alister could ride an arglebon instead of walk. Perhaps, while travelling with him, he would decide where to go and what to do.

Despite this, he was reluctant. Eugene was smiling and laughing to him now, but what if he discovered what Alister did? It would be difficult to avoid questions if he travelled with him; sooner or later Eugene would know his past. If Alister ever found Ronan, then the hawk would bring up even more questions. Alister’s plan to search for an answer to Lark’s note in the library of Materon dissolved as easily as Ronan seemed to, in favour of distancing himself from Rindor. There would be other libraries.

Still, the logical part of Alister’s brain reasoned his reluctance to travel with Eugene stemmed mainly from his self-loathing insistence on solitude.

“Tomorrow?” Ama crossed her arms. “He won’t be well by tomorrow, Eugene. He must rest.”

“He’ll be fine.” Eugene waved a hand. “I know enough about healing to give him any salves and nectars you want, and he’ll be sitting on an arglebon for most of the day.”

Ama narrowed her eyes. “Is this true, Ali? Are you going with my brother tomorrow?”

“You’re welcome to stay here, if you want,” Youka added.

With all eyes on him, Alister frowned. “I haven’t decided. But I intend to leave Materon soon.”

Youka opened her mouth to speak, but Ama interrupted her.

“You’re not well. If you’re to leave Materon soon, then you should go with my brother so he can watch over your health. Otherwise, you won’t be well enough to leave for another week.” She raised her eyebrows at Eugene. “Be careful on the road. News came of Colremer’s traders ambushed on the road by Clarendome men.”

Eugene frowned. “That’s odd. They’re practically the same city. But we’re far away from Clarendome, Ama. Don’t worry so much.”

The two of them continued to discuss the ambush, and Alister scowled. Although being able to leave sooner would be better than staying, he was uneasy about the idea of travelling with Eugene. The man didn’t stop asking questions.

“It’s not so bad, here.” Youka gave him a hopeful smile. “Materon’s a really lovely town. The hall puts on a different play every week, you know? I sometimes help with the lighting.”

Youka looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if she expected him to ask more questions about these plays. Alister was a little curious, but he just shrugged. While he continued to mull the decision over in his head, Youka took his indifference as an invitation. He caught fragments of sentences about the traditional and modern plays the hall of Materon performed each week. Youka told him she would love to be a performer or a musician, but she was shy in front of crowds.

Eugene’s family really are good people. If he were to stay anywhere, he would favour Materon. But it was only one town away from Rindor. His parents would make it there one day, if they decided to continue their search.

After taking some more of Ama’s salve with honey and drifting out of consciousness, Alister opened his eyes to the light of a new day in a different room. His hands scrambled for his timepiece. It was the eleventh hour of the morning; he had to make his decision.

His weary legs nearly collapsed under him as he jumped out of bed. He wobbled as fast as he could to the door and into the main room.

“Has Eugene left yet?” He demanded to a surprised Youka.

She shook her head, her eyebrows raised high at his firmness. “He’s getting Juggle. Are you leaving?”

Alister cast his eyes to his pack, staff and coat, resting against the couch he’d fallen onto two days ago. He found himself saying “yes” as swiftly as his coat seemed to appear on his arms and his pack on his shoulders. Youka turned her eyes down.

For the first time in the week, Alister managed to remember his manners.

“I am in your family’s debt, Youka.” He picked up his staff, “and I can’t thank you enough for taking a complete stranger into your home and getting me back on my feet.” His mouth pulled into an almost smile which may’ve looked like a grimace. “You’re very kind people. The Divine bless you. I hope we can meet again.”

Youka blinked in surprise. “Thank you, Ali. It was a pleasure, and I’m sure Ama would say the same.” She grinned. “Well, almost. I hope we can meet again.”

She handed him the small bag of healing supplies Ama instructed her to give him, should he choose to leave, and he all but ran with quivering legs out the door to where Youka said the arglebon were.

He’d wanted adventure. Now he chose it.