We headed to the city of Elidir. It was small by our standards back home, but for this world, it was a fairly large city with a population of over ten thousand. The city had a few interesting sights, but the one that was most memorable to me was the slave market. Apparently slavery is legal in many of the nations of this world.
I watched as a convicted criminal was put up for auction and was sickened by the way that they treated the poor man and others like him as cattle. At my request, Calais looked into the nature of the man’s crimes. Apparently, the crime that had led him into his predicament was simple theft. I made a note to myself to familiarize myself with the local laws as quickly as I could.
We first located some Chelish soldiers to deliver the news of what had happened to their patrol, then found an inn. It was a clean sort of place, which was good. I was still going to use up the last of my DEET spray before sleeping in the bed, but at least I didn’t have to eat the food and risk any kind of illness.
It was also a time I could finally relax and wallow in self pity. While on Castrovel, I had been upset that Samantha had left me and certainly had enough time to mope about it. However, the city I was in was so full of wonder and I was so excited at the prospect of going home that it hadn’t really hit me. Now, I had not only lost her, but was unsure if I’d ever get home.
I’ve never been a fan of beer, but the taproom in the inn had a supply of mead, so I tried that out. I have to admit that it wasn’t bad. Those ancient Germanic folks had a great sense of taste for folks who dressed in animal furs.
The Innkeep had noticed my violin case when we rented our rooms(by the way, the fact that Calais had sprung for two actual rooms is indicative of the wealth he carried. Most patrons slept in the common room on spare furs). He told me that it had been a while since they had been visited by a bard and offered to give me my next drink free if I’d play something for them.
Calais had offered to pay for anything I drank that night, but I didn’t want to rely completely on him. If nothing else, doing this would help me feel like I could make my way in the world, so I agreed. I took a minute to tune my instrument, then finally decided on what to play.
As I’ve mentioned earlier, I mostly know music from video games(also a few anime themes). Most people back home wouldn’t take playing of those very seriously. However, I wasn’t back home and these people had never heard the music I was about to play. “I’m going to play for you an arrangement of two pieces of traditional music from Skyrim, a land very far from here.” I began to play, first performing The Dragonborn Comes and following that with Dragonborn, complete with the lyrics. Yes, I know the full lyrics even though I don’t know the language(“Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!” and so on and so forth.). Hell, I know the lyrics to at least a dozen anime theme songs and I don’t speak Japanese beyond knowing how to curse a bit and ask how to get to the bathroom.
The real problem was playing the violin and singing at the same time. It’s a bit difficult to hold the instrument with your chin and sing at the same time, but it can be done if you’re willing to practice at it. What’s important is that the patrons apparently enjoyed the performance and the Innkeep handed me a drink with the offer of another if I’d perform more after I finished my current tankard. I announced my next arrangement as a tribute to friends who had fallen recently and performed Celes’ Theme(complete with the melancholy refrain when she tried to kill herself)followed by Aeris’ Theme(I refuse to call her Aerith). As I played, I thought of everything that had happened recently and the profound sense of loneliness I felt. It was all I could do not to tear up. Thankfully those pieces didn’t have any words.
Calais had remained at our table and had been joined by a small group of religious looking folks when I had gone to retrieve my violin, so I took a seat at an empty table after my second performance and drank my next tankard in silence, surely looking a bit sullen. Now, I’m a fairly large guy, so the alcohol was just barely beginning to affect me after I finished this third tankard. I didn’t suspect I was hallucinating when an extremely beautiful young woman with eyes like emeralds and hair the color of a raven’s feathers came and sat across from me, but I’m sure no one would have blamed me if I had suspected that she wasn’t real.
She was wearing a robe of some kind that was tight in all the right places, adorned with a brooch that had a familiar looking symbol upon it. It took me a moment to realize that the symbol was the same one the people sitting with Calais were wearing. Just my luck. I found myself imagining that this was a religious conversion attempt.
Turns out I was wrong. Aside from telling me that her symbol represented the goddess Shelyn(whose portfolio includes love, beauty, art and music) when I asked, she didn’t talk much about her religion. I did find out that she was an acolyte training to be a full fledged cleric and more about her history with the church, but those were details about her, not about her religion. In turn, I told her about myself. It might have been the alcohol, but I told her everything.
As we talked, I saw sympathy in her expression. At first, I thought it was pity, but there was more to it than that. Not that I’m too proud to accept other people’s pity when warranted, but this wasn’t quite that. Looking back, I think it was because I was a musician. It’s not like she had any reason to believe I hadn’t composed the pieces I had played, so the sadness they contained must have looked to her like a bleak melancholy within my soul. It’s also probably why she asked me to play something more hopeful.
Not one to deny such a simple request to a pretty girl, I agreed. However, as I tried to stand, I found that the fourth tankard had begun to have a much greater effect on me than the last several. Dizzy, I sat back down and explained my situation to the young woman. She told me that it would be a simply situation to remedy and asked me to remain a moment. Not trusting my ability to go anywhere anyway, I agreed.
She walked over to where Calais and the others were sitting and spoke to a muscular man sitting across from my friend. His brow furrowed as she talked with him and his expression conveyed volumes about his apparent disapproval, but he agreed in the end. He walked over and placed his arm on my shoulder and spoke some words in a language I didn’t know. A surge of energy rushed through me and I suddenly felt like I was mostly sober once again. I thanked the man, who just grunted and returned to his seat.
My lovely companion told me not to worry about her brother’s reaction, explaining that he was just a bit protective and didn’t like that she was talking with some strange man. I almost felt relieved until I remembered the time I had had to flee out of Angela Perkins’ window while her older brother, who had walked in on us somewhere around second base, went to get his shotgun. Now that I think about it, I never did get that shirt back.
Feeling better, I stood once again and pulled out my violin. A quick look at the Innkeep, who nodded his consent and I began to play. I won’t tell you what I played, but it’s a song that starts out a bit melancholy and builds to a grand, hopeful crescendo at the end. Sure, it would have been better if I’d had accompaniment from someone playing a trumpet and a nice set of timpani, but it worked out just fine. Better than fine, actually. A few minutes later, I found myself in my room, alone with an extremely beautiful girl I had spent my evening talking with. And yes, her brother had glared at me as we left.
I won’t tell you all the lurid details, but it was her first time. Yes, I was deflowering a member of the clergy. Something about the very corrupt nature of that demanded that I make sure I do it right, so I took my time and we spent most of the night getting very little sleep. Things went well up until the fifth time. (No, I’m not saying that just to brag.)(Okay, maybe I am. You try not to brag in the same situation.) She had grabbed hold of my hair and was holding on for dear life, screaming things I’d best not repeat when I felt her grip on my hair release.
At least, I thought she had let go. Moments later, she started screaming in terror. I looked at the hand she was staring at and realized she was holding a large clump of my hair. She hadn’t pulled very hard, at least not hard enough to have done that, and I hadn’t felt it being yanked out. She pulled away from me and I sat stunned for a moment. I reached up and gave a slight tug on my own hair. It came out easily. I suddenly felt very dizzy again and had a splitting headache. The dizziness threatened to make me vomit, so I rushed over to the chamber pot(disgusting, I know). I barely made it in time to prevent the bloody vomit from spreading all over the floor. Seeing the blood, my companion began screaming for help.
I sat down on the floor and contemplated my symptoms. Each alone might indicate a number of things, but considering them all together along with the past year traveling unprotected through space, my mind settled on one inevitable conclusion.
I had radiation sickness.
As I was coming to this realization, I heard a loud crack and the door splintered inward. I looked over to see my bedmate’s brother. He had kicked in the door and had his sword at the ready. Either he was up standing watch or he had slept in his armor.
I’m pretty sure he would have cut me down if she hadn’t jumped in between us. I suddenly found myself desperately searching for a window as she tried to explain to him that I hadn’t done anything to her, but was suffering from illness of some kind. I think the fact that I vomited again helped prove her point.
She put on some clothing and helped me get dressed as he examined me for any normal signs of sickness. While inundated by his barrage of questions, I started crunching numbers in my head. I remembered reading somewhere that nine hundred milliSieverts was around the high end of expected radiation dosage for about a year in space for an astronaut and that you would need an exposure of around twice that to end up with the symptoms I was experiencing. I could be wrong on that as I was only reading about it out of curiosity after watching an episode of 1000 Ways to Die, so I can’t say I was really looking at it in a truly scientific light. I wanted to say that wouldn’t result in the effects I was experiencing, but I could be wrong on that.
Nonetheless, I was experiencing the effects of moderate exposure, somewhere in the two to six Gray range. I think. Haven’t had access to the internet or a doctor who understands the concept to confirm it, so I could be off. All I knew was that I needed some kind of treatment.
I tried to explain to them that I was suffering the symptoms of a known illness, but their language lacked the words for the concept I was trying to explain. I settled on calling radiation “Bad Light” and explained that it had a poisonous effect on humans. The girl suggested that magic might help me, but they didn’t know anyone who could magically deal with poison.
Calais, roused by the commotion, came to see what was happening. After being briefed, he told us that he had heard of a witch that lived outside of town who might be able to help me, but that help would likely be costly. I said, “I can pay for it. After all, I still have that golden artifact that the wizard had used to contain the spell that teleported me here…” As I spoke, however, I came to a realization. I had been carrying that in my hands when the goblin had attacked me. “Crap. Nevermind. I dropped it when fleeing the goblin.” Well, I still had the amulet and ring from Samantha. Perhaps I could barter one of them for the cure.
The witch was much kinder than expected, though she lacked social graces as one accustomed to being alone might. Explaining to her that I had been exposed to a poison over time that might also lead to further disease thanks to the long exposure and that I might have inadvertently exposed my female companion to the same poison, she told me that she did indeed have the magic I would need to cure us. She told us the cost in gold and I blanched. It was far more than any of us had. Thankfully, her interests included planar travel, so I was able to convince her to take the amulet that protected its wearer from heat/cold and allowed them to breathe in any environment in lieu of a gold payment. As I understand it now, one spell purged me of any remaining radiation and another cured the damage caused, hopefully putting my cancer risk back to normal.
Cured, we returned to the inn a few hours before sunrise. I was surprised when I was joined once again in my room by my lovely companion. We were too tired to continue what we had been doing before, but she informed me that she still wanted to fall asleep in my arms. I certainly wasn’t going to argue.
Awaking around noon, we headed down to the common room(well, not immediately, if you catch my drift). Calais and my companion’s brother were discussing their plans when we approached. The other group was continuing on their journey to help those affected by the Goblinblood War. Calais mentioned that he had an uncle in Absalom who might be able to get me into the Arcanamirium, a prestigious school for wizards and that he was willing to travel with me there if I wanted, since it was likely my best shot at getting home.
We had to make a choice. I could either stay with the beautiful young woman, she could travel with us to Absalom, or we would have to part company here. I was torn, but ultimately I decided that I couldn’t make the same mistake that had gotten me here in the first place. I had to go with Calais to Absalom rather than following the beautiful woman. Unfortunately, she made the same decision. She also had to continue on her journey. Leaving her goddess’ service to follow me wasn’t an option. Both our parties decided to wait one more day before departing, partially out of the practical consideration that our little adventure with the illness had cost us the travel time afforded by the morning’s light and partially to allow us to say goodbye.
The second night was bittersweet, enjoying each other’s company but knowing that when morning came we would be departing, possibly never to see one another again.
The next morning, they left early. Calais hadn’t woken when they parted, so I ended up with some time to myself. I used that time to shave my head, since bald was certainly a better look for me than having some patches of hair missing. Then I sat around wistfully thinking about the beautiful young woman I had just let go. Thinking back, I still wonder what she’s up to, which brings up an interesting thought. It’s not like we used any kind of protection. I have to wonder if somewhere there’s a child out there who looks a lot like me. That might be something to look into once my magical ability gets good enough to do that kind of search.
When the paladin finally awoke about an hour later, we departed, heading southeast towards the Andoran capital Almas, where we hoped to book passage on a vessel to Absalom. We didn’t speak much for the early part of the day, but when we stopped for lunch, I finally broke the silence.
“Alright,” I said. “Let’s go ahead and get this over with.”
He looked confused. “Get what over with?”
“The lecture you’ve been preparing since yesterday.”
He thought for a moment. “Well, it would behoove you to take better care of yourself. After all, you knew that you had been exposed to this poison and hadn’t taken any steps to remedy it.”
Frustrated by how he was ignoring the topic, I lashed out a bit. “No! The lecture about how I’m a horrible sinner and will burn in the fires of damnation for sleeping with a member of the church.”
He looked genuinely confused. “Did you force yourself upon her?” I shook my head. “Well, then I’m not seeing a problem. Unless she had taken some kind of vow of celibacy that you helped her break. But even then, your sin in that would be minor. I’m confused. Why did you think I would object to your actions?”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “You mean that it’s not a sin?” I was an Arizonan boy raised by a conservative Irish Catholic family. While I was liberal enough to not view marriage as a requirement for certain activities, this was something different. Sleeping with a member of the clergy had to be at least as bad as corrupting a pastor’s daughter. It was worth at least a lecture if I got caught, dammit.
He laughed. “Has this been the source of the dark cloud hanging over you this morning? Truly, perhaps some few gods may take offense with dallying outside of wedlock, but I think you’ll find that mine is not a religion that is really all that concerned with the daily lives of folks who aren’t harming, or at least risking harm to, anyone else. Though, if you’re determined to feel bad about the encounter, perhaps you can consider her feelings.” I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I asked him to clarify. “Well, it’s just that, as an acolyte in the worship of Shelyn, her actions indicate that she had fallen in love with you. Being apart from you is likely breaking her heart.”
That startled me. “What?! But we only knew each other for a short time!”
“You are both at an age where one might fall in love a dozen times a day. It will pass, but perhaps all the more painfully due to the time you shared. For one who always has stories to tell, you surely know one where this kind of thing has occurred?”
My mind immediately thought of Romeo and Juliet, focusing purely on how tragically that one ended. I shuddered at the thought and tried to put it from my mind. Of course, my subconscious mind had to add in the fact her and my names started with a letter exactly the same number of places away from the corresponding character in that story. I tried to assure myself that it was simply a coincidence.
I tried to change the subject. “How is it that one who looks no older than I know so much?”
He laughed again. “Truly you think our ages the same? Perhaps then it would surprise you to learn that I am actually seventy three years old?” Once again I found myself surprised and asked him how that could be. “My people reach adulthood at the age of sixty. I am still scant more than a child, but I suspect I have many more years under my belt than you, my friend.”
“I see,” I responded. This world was going to take some getting used to.
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