Singer Sailor Merchant Mage

“Life is a series of sudden disappearances, leave-takings without the proper goodbyes.”

Kelly Link

“Welcome in the light of the lodestar.” A voice intoned as we entered a blue light shining down on the entrance we had passed through. But looking up, we realised it was just a trick of the light with a stained glass blue window placed to catch and colour the light over the entrance. The actual shard was hidden further into the church, as was tradition. Still, the window was a delight to behold. A scene depicting the light of the lodestar pushing out the darkness to the edges of the compass kingdoms and the depths of the lodestone.

“Forgive me the theatrics. I seldom get to make new first impressions, and the light lends itself to them so well. Now, how can I help you?” the priest asked. He was clearly interested in the two new faces in his town and possibly his congregation. Namir was always going to draw attention this far north. We had only seen humans, giants, and a half-dwarf north of the mountain range that separated Tramontana from the other kingdoms.

“We are just passing through on our circumnavigation and hoped to spend some time in the light before we moved on to our next destination,” Namir answered for the pair of us. As always, he hoped for a swift passage through Drangasfjord, preferably without complications.

“Of course, of course, this way,” he said as he led us deeper into the building. It was not particularly big, but that was not surprising considering the town's size and the distance from the centre of the Compass Kingdoms. We did not really need a guide, but he, like Asta, seemed starved for novel company and continued to accompany us. “Where did you last stop?” he asked as he led us to the altar where the Lodestar rested.

“Drangavik,” Namir answered shortly, not elaborating further.

But that did not deter him, “How is Father Gothi?” he kept questioning.

We paused, confused for a second, and I realised we had never actually learned the name of the priest we had met in Drangavik, so short had been our conversation and passing. “He was well when we met. He even showed us his room of lost gods,” I answered for the two of us after Namir let the question linger either from confusion or by design. Even though I avoided the reason for our conversation, the thief with the missing leg, this still gained me a glare from Namir as the priest turned to answer me.

Unaware of Namir’s glare, the priest continued, “I spent a year training with him as an acolyte. He was always fascinated with the past before the church's spread of the lodestar’s light. I confess I am not as enamoured with trying to tease out the truth of past events. But I do not begrudge him in his interests. Here, on the edge of the endless ice, life can be a little of a whiteout. Anything that adds a little colour to the day or your faith is welcome to break up the monotony. I like to fish myself but I even have an alcove here in respect of the tradition he is building.” He pointed out a small alcove to the right of the vestibule holding the Shard of the Lodestar where he had led us. “A few of us in the north who trained under him have done the same. Though some to keep him from complaining when he visits or avoid rebuke through our correspondence. Warm and welcoming to his congregation he may be, but he can also be a force of nature to those he has trained and has expectations of.” He gave himself a little shake as if relieving unpleasant past memories.

After the last glare I received, I kept silent, and Namir let the quiet lengthen until our host noticed and filled it with words of departure as he realised we wished to be left alone. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he said as he excused himself. “Call if you need anything at all.” He nodded in acceptance of our silence; his duties were covered, and he left us to it.

Once he had left earshot, Namir was succinct in his instructions: “Touch the Lodestar, place the statues, and then let’s be on our way.” After our last visit to a town, he hesitated to leave me alone or to my own devices for too long.

Nodding my head in agreement, I placed my hand on the lodestar, watching it brighten in acknowledgement of my presence but not the catastrophic flare I had once caused by my escaping mana now that my mana was held within by the cores I had formed. I grinned at the memory and moved on to remove my hand when I heard a voice.

“Well done, Kai.” I was not surprised by the sudden voice within my mind. Fortuna had praised me. However, I was confused by the content, and my silent question was instantly answered. “Thanks to you, I have another new believer,” she replied.

“The thief?” I asked, surprised. But I guess any near-death experience can cause a man to reassess their life choices.

“Yes, Jor.” She chuckled, amused at my mental tone.

“Another?” I questioned, surprised by the plurality of her answer.

“Did you think you left such little an impression?” she asked quizzically. I knew I had made an impression but had doubted that it would generate much faith for Fortuna. “The giants respect and are grateful for your defence of their Thorpe and honour your memory with remembrance. Varvara even made you your own, an ice-covered, half-frozen child with winged feet opening a portal with a stone-capped, metal-runed, elven wooden staff from which destruction reigns forth on top of the corpse of an ice giant. It really is quite striking even if she has taken a few artistic liberties with its production.” She laughed, her voice spinning golden lights and threads through my mind as I contemplated the image she had created in my mind of the statue.

My mind froze, shocked at the image and that Varvara would do such a thing. I was no hero. I had gotten lucky with my defeat of the titan and thought everyone had known that but were simply grateful for my success.

As my mind unstuck from the shock of the revelations, she continued, “Your statue and mine there have started to give me some small measure of faith. They know they were lucky, and their faith follows that knowledge. But let us move swiftly on.” She cut herself off. “The Lodestar and its light allows for a cheaper communication cost, but our time is not unlimited. Honestly, it helps that with your skills, we can speak mind to mind.”

“Thank you for the compliments and information, but what do you wish to impart? I was confused about what she might wish to say and a little worried about what I might be asked to do next. “I am following our agreement to complete a circumnavigation in your service.” I defended my actions so far.

“Can a goddess not reward her champion for services rendered, especially when you go above and beyond expectations?” She asked, amused by my caution. But continued regardless of my unspoken answer. Her voice and attitude changed, becoming more formal, “In recompense for your service thus far, I thought I would help you make the most of your circumnavigation and balance the scales between us.”

Balanced in whose favour I wondered while I projected within my head the question, “What and how?”

“Take your earring, open it and touch your splinter of the Lodestar to the shard of the Lodestar seated on the Altar, and I will show you.” She commanded without exactly answering the question of what or how it would be that she would recompense with me.

“Come now, Kai, our time is fleeting despite the speed at which we are conversing.” She chided; her words made me realise that despite pausing as I removed my hand from the lodestar, it was still touching. Had time been flowing normally, Namir would have already intervened or questioned what exactly I was spending so long thinking about, with the conversation happening silently in my head.

As requested, I removed the earring, opened it, and placed it against the Lodestar. Only now noticing my deviation from his instructions, Namir asked out loud, “Kai?” as he questioned what exactly I was doing.

With the splinter touching the shard once more, time seemed to freeze as Fortuna spoke to me directly again. “You see,” Fortuna continued, now that I was following her instructions. “Archbishop Grigori was doing oh so much more than merely circumnavigating the compass kingdoms in preparation for being raised to cardinal and gaining an understanding of the regions of the Compass Kingdoms. He was also building something or rather a route between the Lodestar Shards.”

“A route?” I asked internally, confused, but I was beginning to suspect what the answer might be.

“Channels between the Compass Points marked by the runed-stone menhir’s he placed, such as the one on your island, as well as the Shards of the Lodestar in the churches he visited. They have been placed on ley lines rising from the depths of the Lodestone to help power the metaphysical channels.” She explained.

“I can go home directly?” I asked quickly. Excited by the possibility of a swift return.

“Unfortunately, not. You can only take a channel when you have already travelled to the exiting locus already. Each intersection on the horizon’s edge must be logged within the splinter in your ring before you can travel between them.” She dowsed my enthusiasm with reality. I sighed internally. There would be no swift return home for me; I could only instantly return the way I had already travelled, which helped me not at all.

“But I have already been there; this splinter was taken from the shard on the isle,” I argued. “Surely that should be enough.” I was not quite ready to give up on the possibility.

“In the future, it would, but Archbishop Grigori did not create the circumference channels for instant travelling until the circumnavigation was complete, and even then, the exit points must be logged in your Splinter for you to be able to use them.” She described the key to utilising this new form of travel. “Now, enough arguing with reality. Let me demonstrate.”

“Focus and follow my thoughts.” Using Astral Projection, I sent my mind up into the stratosphere, following Fortuna, only to have her pause and point down. Used to having seen her show me the threads of fortune and fate in glimmering gold, I was surprised to see three points of iridescent blue marking the landscape below me. The locations were obvious by their positioning: Drangasfjord, Drangavik and Thorpe.

“Three? I thought I had to log their locations.” I asked, disappointed. It was an impressive ability, but not the one that I wanted.

“Your splinter has visited these three since the completion of the compass channels. It remembers them,” she replied, rebuking my greediness.

“So I can go backwards but not forwards,” I asked.

“Yes. You could go back to Drangavik or even translocate to Thorpe with the locations marked by your splinter, but not forwards,” she answered. “I thought you should know.”

“How?” I asked.

“Throw your soul towards the light of the lodestar that you wish to exit from, supply the mana, and the light of the lodestar contained within the splinter will do the rest.” She outlined what I needed to do and demonstrated. Fascinated, I found myself copying the motions and applying the mana.

In Drangasfjord’s church of the Lodestar, heart racing, Namir's eyes flared in disbelief, frustration, and swiftly rising anger. He found himself quietly cursing the elven tutor who had introduced him to his current student and the empty space that had once occupied his ever-increasingly infuriating Lord, Kai Silversea. Before biting his tongue less, he cursed the name of the goddess he believed was responsible for his current disappearance.