Marcius licked his lips, wincing as they passed over cracked skin. "Seems useful."
The elf shrugged. "Maybe. But it can be a curse. It can't cure exhaustion. There have been many wielders of this weapon in the past, from before Selenthia, which have died because they passed out on the field of battle. Of course they never felt weary, since the act of healing is pleasurable. They were unable to know when they were in danger."
Marcius looked at the sword and the jewel stared back. He shivered. "Are you going to keep it?"
Selene gave a crooked grin, "Aye. Spoils of combat go to the victor, by Selenthian law. With war looming, I'll take whatever advantage I can find. It's also an artifact of our people. I'm bound to at least return it."
He nodded, still wary. "What happened? How did we escape?"
"I do not know the entirety, but I will tell you what I remember." She looked at him pointedly, "I awoke to find you unconscious, surrounded by statues of those things."
That didn't make any sense. "Statues?" he repeated, not sure if he had heard her correctly.
"Yes, statues of stone. As if they were frozen in life, with terrible expressions upon their faces. Though I cannot say I am complaining. I'm not sure what you did, but after that, the way out was revealed behind one of the walls. The passage way led to a false cliff face beyond the ruins. From there, I took a chance and used your amulet to navigate the Myst. We came out a few miles north of the borders. A patrol found us and escorted us back."
Marcius was amazed at her resourcefulness. "Thank you."
She shrugged. "It was nothing. Though I will admit you are heavier than you appear."
He chuckled, but then grew serious. "So now what? I'm guessing the Elders will want to know where we were?"
Selene waved off the question. "There is nothing to worry about. I filled them in a long time ago. You were under for a while. We were worried."
"We?"
"Aye, the Academy people arrived a seven day ago to pick you up. We were worried that you wouldn't come to. They are staying here on the chance that you might awake, but we were prepared to transport you if need be." Her voice grew quiet, "I was worried too."
His heart beat faster at the comment, "Selene, I. . . "
"Regardless," she said quickly, cutting him off, "There is something we need to discuss: the gem and amulet." Marcius stopped fidgeting because the elf's face was tight with emotion. "I. . . I. . . I lied to the Council. About what we found there."
Marcius could not believe that. "Why would you do such a thing?"
"Because I could not know what they would do. I couldn't risk it. So I lied and told them that you wandered out into the Myst by accident and that all we found was the sword. I said nothing of the gem, the amulet, nor what you did to get us out after I fell. And I know you did something, something you're not supposed to be able to do without a familiar. Just like when I met you on the beach, just like you did in the cell. You are an anomaly, and I should have told everything. . . but I couldn't."
She refused to meet his eyes, "I'm grateful," he said slowly, processing her words, "But why, Selene? Why go through it all, just to protect me?"
The elf didn't respond right away, so Marcius stayed quiet, giving her the time she needed. "Because," she said slowly, "I've gotten to know you. You're not just some faceless human. I mean, my spirit beast died for you, and I should be mad. . . but I'm not. It hurts, but I can't bring myself to remain mad at you. It is frustrating, but true."
A slight smile grew on his lips. "Why, Selene I do think that makes us friends."
She pointedly ignored his comment. "The pouch on the dresser has the amulet and stone. They are yours. Earned in combat, kept in peace. I do hope you will use them wisely."
Marcius's thoughts settled on Velynere. There were answers that had to be found. "I might have an idea what I wish to do with them."
"I am sure," she said with a roll of her eyes, "Anyway, there are people here that have been waiting patiently since you first started stirring."
He raised an eyebrow in surprise, opening his mouth to respond when he felt it hit him. A presence, one he missed terribly, reuniting with his mind, a puzzle piece to match his own. It melded with him, caressing his thoughts, and his heart fluttered with joy even as his face broke into a wide smile that threatened to split his face.
Faerill!
Marc, I missed you so much!
The door opened and Jared and Alicia walked in, along with a wizened balding man that Marcius didn't recognize. But it was the tiny creature that appeared on his chest that stole his attention, the wyvrr dropping his invisibility as it ran around on the bed happily.
His hand sought out the creature, relishing in the soft golden scales under his fingertips. The wyvrr crooned its pleasure, arching its back like a cat to press harder against his hand.
The entirety of their memories came flooding forth, mixing together. Marcius was inundated with information, of what the familiar had been doing in their time apart.
You've been busy.
As have you, Marc. There are many questions that need to be answered.
He couldn't agree more. How had he done magic without Faerill? Why was everyone so interested in him?
I don't know, Faerill, but I suspect we'll find the answers at the Academy. Are you looking forward to going?
Aye, very much so. It will strengthen our bond and our prowess. We will grow into something to be recognized and admired.
He looked up at Jared, who was beaming, and Alicia, who was trying not to smile and failing horribly. It was Jared who finally said something, "I can't say how glad I am to see you safe and sound, Marc. You really had us worried."
"I'm sorry to have worried you both. I'm really not sure what happened on the boat."
Jared waved it off. "That's alright; we can figure it out later. I hear you've been busy here. Been going off on adventures without me? Some friend you are."
"I will leave the rest of you to catch up," Selene interjected, drawing the attention of the whole room. If Marcius didn't know better, he could have sworn a brief flash of jealousy had flickered across the stoic woman's face.
When she had left, Jared turned back to Marcius, giving him a lewd wink. "Quite the looker, isn't she? You really have been busy!"
Marcius choked. "It's not like that! Anyway, you'd probably be more interested in her. The elves can do things with swords that you can only dream of."
Jared rubbed his chin. "Is that so? Going to have to get them to show me sometime. You see, they've been housing us at some guest house. Not too bad, but very much under lock and key. Haven't had much of a chance to look around. Have you seen this place? It's amazing. It was the right decision to go with you! Who would have thought that we'd be in an elven capitol!"
Marcius took it all in. It was a pleasure to just hear his best friend's voice. From the familiar way he spoke, to the light of wonder in his eye. Marcius hadn't realized how much he truly missed the blonde swordsman.
"What about Simon?" he asked, for the outgoing not-bard was distinctly not present.
"Hah! Him!" Jared grinned, "He threw a fit when told that he didn't have the authority to come along. Alicia here managed to get me in under the excuse of being her personal assistant! Hah, me, an assistant. Anyway, I'm sure he'll want to hear all about whatever it is that you've been up to. He was insistent on that."
"Will you stop bending his ear? I'm more interested in figuring out what happened while we were separated, and why it happened. He can hear about everything that lech has been up to after we hear what happened," Alicia cut in testily. There was a slight cough behind her. "Ah, and this is a teacher from the Academy, Marcius," she added, seemingly startled at her lack of manners.
The man wore simple robes, complete with a long white beard. A storybook perfect wizard. "Marcius Realure," he introduced himself as they shook hands. The man's grip was firm and competent.
"Dentaige Keafir," the wizard responded. "I'm the head of this little journey to Selenthia. I've been meaning to come for a while now, to put in a formal request, so you were a convenient excuse." He gave an off-kilter grin. "I teach magical theory and you'll probably hate me, but until then, I am pleased to make your acquaintance and ease you into the stringent life of the Academy."
"Good, I want to learn all that I can."
The old man laughed, stroking his peppered beard, "Well, you'll certainly get that, until you're sick of it! Though, you'll be on probation for a while, being a rogue wizard. Basic stuff, really. Restricted to where you can go, what you can look up, among a few other things."
"Rogue wizard?" He had never considered himself as such, but that had been what the Selenthian council called him too.
"Merely a formality, I assure you. We have to keep pretenses up. Your cooperation and your Master's standing with the Academy are well known. Do not worry."
You are no rogue. We were training by Antaigne, one of the greatest wizards on Faelon. Hardly a rogue, in my opinion, Faerill interjected a haughty lilt to his words.
When did you get so talkative?
I have matured since last we were together, Marc. I have not yet reached my full growth.