Seln
Sara stared at a giant crystal, anchored midair by thin strips of white paper braided around its widest point. The crystal floated at the center of a rural town, surrounded by a flower-strewn park and encircled by three towering granite stones covered in black writing. It pulsed slowly, color fluctuating between umber and aquamarine.
“It’s pretty small,” teased Fang behind her. “Wehrans don’t know how to grow ‘em right.”
Ishikawa rolled his eyes. “Ignore Fang. Elmhorn is a young city. They will learn.”
Twisting left and right, she took in the people. They were human (right?), though tall and broad as oxen, and clad in colorful tunics and leather shoes. They pushed heavy carts down dirt lanes, noting the girl in an Izuno uniform with suspicion but not alarm.
“Elmhorn,” she repeatedly, hands twisting in the pleats of her skirt. “And this is…”
“Capital of the Wehran lineage,” Ishikawa explained patiently. “Your lineage. Jogging any memories?”
She glanced at his scaled hands yet again. Ishikawa wore the scales with casual aplomb, happy to let her hesitantly touch, but never once spoke to his scars.
Fang breathed into her ear. “Ashen scars for an Ashen Scale. He’s an orphan, you know.”
His breath hot on her neck, Sara jumped!
The wolf grinned. “The Ashen Scales scoop up the crying brats after a storm or an eruption and give them a home. Isn’t that right, Ishikawa?”
“Crude but accurate. I seek to reclaim my spirit from the terror of the Fire that almost claimed me. That claimed my family.” He spoke calmly even now. What kind of self-control did he possess to be so calm with that burden?
“Me? I’m a Winter Wolf, and we love taking a nibble on sweet little prey…” Fang hummed.
“Which is why you helped me escort her here,” Ishikawa noted.
“Aw, shut it! You gotta season them a little first!”
Despite herself, Sara snickered. These two argued at each other like her brothers!
For a moment, she remembered them. Tall, funny, argumentative. They were in college now, though, so she hardly ever…
The memory slipped away, leaving her aching with the strangeness of this land.
“I…I do remember a little,” she mumbled.
“That’s great!” Ishikawa encouraged.
“But not here. I’m not…Wehran…I don’t think.” She squeezed her fists tighter, a lifeline to all the memories locked in her head. “…where do we go from here?”
“The choice is yours,” Ishikawa assured. “Easiest is west to the capital, Seln Alora. There are many mystics and scholars who may be able to help you there. Else, you might take the road south and then east around Losthome towards Izu. The school children of Izu dress as you do, so perhaps you will meet someone you recognize. Failing that, we might petition the seven spirits of Kawazu for aid.”
“If the ghosts, the eagles, and the centauri don’t get you!” Fang chimed in.
Sara blanched. “Ghosts?!”
“The way to Izu is dangerous these days,” Ishikawa admitted. “The Shades demand heavy tolls to pass through their Realms. Few can afford it, and fewer still risk the wild ways. Still, there are none who know the old stories better than the Izuno priests.”
If it means finding a way home…
“Will…you two come with me?” she whispered.
“Of course,” Ishikawa replied, gallant as a knight.
“Hmm…” Fang wondered. “For a price, maybe.”
“I don’t have any…”
“Yeah, yeah, I figured that. But you’ve got something shiny in your pocket.”
My cellphone? She laid a hand over the skirt pocket with her phone, even though its battery was totally fried.
“Fancy metal like that? I can work with that.”
She hesitated. But…no. No! I can get a new cellphone when I get home. “Deal. We go to Izu.”
Covenant sealed, the three turned their eyes to the road.