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22 Town (1)
publish date:
2025-11-21 12:33:11
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Foundling Mother's Bow
Alone in the room the others had fled to relieve their restlessness, though he was no less restless than they, Hunter fingered the bow, one of the last remnants, along with the blood pearl necklace, of his mother, a life formerly lived. The necklace could manage itself, not so the bow.Ranging its surface with the slightest of strokes, memories, and a cascade of emotions, flowed into him from the yew. The deaths his mother had wrought to feed and clothe them, to protect and honor them, resided there. The woodsmoke from the hearth, the pain of her departure and the rage he could not control resulting from that, resided there. Sorrow resided there. A myriad of emotions and memories resided there. He drew comfort from them to deaden the pain of loss that had dimmed over time, but which could not be deadened. He found comfort in that too because he realized that as long as he had the bow he could always recapture those feelings.While recalled to mind, the memories and emotions roused gav
Foundling 8 Secrets (2)
“Secrets best kept are not those widely known.”“Neither are conspiracies.”“Conspiracies for whose sake?”“For us all.”“What is the old axiom? ‘Power is only power when it is used.”The Magister gave a slash of his robed arm, scoffing at the notion of such naivete, contemptuous of it.“What should be undone? It was you that discovered them both. You are bound to this far more deeply than I. Are you not at the center of this power you speak of. That must not be used.”Another discussion between them unresolved, never to be resolved. Poe did not believe in happenstance, found it too untidy to be at play, and what he had experienced was not happenstance that was eating at him, draining him almost from the start.Another secret that could not be told, nor known by any.“That is not what I said.”The Magister, with a preemptive motion rose from where they were sitting and went to one of the cabinets on the wall. Poe felt a twinge of anticipation lighten the gloominess of his mood.A beau
Foundling 8 Secrets
Poe and the Magister were relaxing in the Magister’s room. A fire roared, and sparks flew from sizzling sap popping in the heat, the scent of pine and honeycomb pervading the room. A road table was between them on which rested two earthenware chalices, cup stained and aged by years of use, filled with mulled wine warmed by iron spikes resting in the flame. The Magister liked it so, the scent of pine and honeycomb. “He seems to be acclimating himself fairly well,” the Magister said into the gap of silence that did not want to be filled and for which the Magister found some bit of regret even as he spoke. But the conversation needed to be had, and things needed to be said. To distract himself, he reached forward to pull one of the spikes from the flame and quench it in his cup which hissed and steamed in protest. Poe pulled a draw on his pipe to swell the lungs and fire the chest and brain from the rush to the head and exhaled a vaporous plume tha
Foundling 7 Vital Essence
That took some getting used, but before long he was able to impel himself through the water and Kim had to step back a little more briskly.They both laughed and beamed at his accomplishment until Kim abruptly relinquished his hands. Hunter floundered, smacking and clawing at the water. As his head dipped below the surface, he went to plant his feet where normally would been lake bottom . . . and nothing. Panicking, gulping air and then water, he felt Kim’s hands close on his wrists like a vice. Pulling him headfirst, she yanked him from the water. “Relax,” she soothingly said. “You can still stand up.” She demonstrated by tapping her instep to the bottom of his foot which followed hers to the lake bottom.He had not noticed where the water had been waist high, it was now chest high.“It’s when you fight it that it takes you under,” she said when he calmed. “Don’t fight it. Use your own motion to ride the water’s surface.”She took to sliding him, curving him into spins, creating sha
Foundling 6 Swimming Lessons
Not having been presaged by any scent or sound, rounding a bend in the corridor Hunter was little prepared for the vista presented stepping from the cave’s antechamber onto a plateau which sloped away to a lake, steam rising from its surface, and a valley beyond dense with trees. A breeze rushed up the slope, bringing scents from the green valley, the rising steam. Meeting the towering cliff face, the wind swirled before continue its climb up and over.A pang of longing seized Hunter, a doubt which he quickly suppressed. Once unconstrained by any beast or manner, he was now bound by shackles real and hidden and, he was coming to realize, some he had no inkling of.The silence that had ensued upon their arrival was broken by the scampering of feet and whoops of excitement. A trail of clothes was left behind in the dash to be the first to the lake.Hunter did not run with them, measuring his stride beside reminiscences of absent Tete. To share this with his brother . . . would be a th
Foundling 5 Leslie and Marcus Discourse on the Utility of a Sword
"In the hands of a skilled individual, a blade does not have to kill," Marcus said. "Using a tool meant to kill, as one to disable, limits the purpose of its function and in so doing makes the wielder vulnerable," “Why do you always take up cause against me,” Marcus said.“No one else agrees with me?” Leslie asked, sweeping the others with her gaze, with a notable pause as she passed Kim’s eye. Kim looked at Hunter sympathetically as they stepped into the crowd. “Fun has been robbed from us.” “That’s unjust,” usually quiet Tick, enjoined. “This is no fun. Let merriment enjoin. Put aside this tiresome discoursing.” “Yes, put it aside. It’s tiresome,” Tick said. “This is something with which I can agree.”"The merit of a tool is in what it was designed for,” Leslie continued, not relinquishing the point. “A blade is a weapon of war: designed to kill.”“There is no dispute in that,” Marcus conceded.“Some
Foundling 4 Prisoner
Hunter sat on a cold stone bench in the corner of a cold stone room. Small, ill lit, barred by the locked, thick bolt in the heavy, banded oaken door with a Mage standing duty just beyond that. He was still chained but had better learned to manage the weight of the dangling shackles now attached to
Foundling Capture (2)
He smelled them before he came upon them. Clustered, marbled scents packed together. He could parse some scents from the herd but not all. Hunter used his remaining ki to give the mirage substance and texture as he had before and sent it forth like a bird on wing. Only this bird’s wings grew and sw
Foundling 26 Friends (3)
Not resisting, Hunter was moved deeper into the water father away from his friends and a little to the left of hers until the water was up to his chest. From one step to the nest his head went from the surface to falling beneath the warm dark of the lake where nothing could be seen. Water filled hi
Foundling 26 Friends (1)
“Hey, wake up.” He heard the words through the fog of sleep but did not want to wake up. Sleep was far more comfort than the lonely, isolated wakefulness he saw stretched before him. But he could not run or evade the truth, so, reluctantly, he rolled to his back and opened his eyes to a
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