Read Part One: When Two Worlds Touch
Read Part Two: When Blossoms Fall Upon the Pond
Kithrin did not know how long she had been walking in the Between. In this grey space that existed in the cracks where worlds touched, she has no sense of time. Her only marker was the endless mist, punctuated with coloured threads grasping at her ankles and her arms.
This cacophony threading around her was the first thing she felt as she was pulled through the portal. The threads came in thousands of shades, some of which she had no name for. They pulled at her arms and her legs as she pushed through them, desperately trying to get back to where she had come through, but the hole had already disappeared.
“Kith!” She shouted, a part of her wondering if her twin had followed her through, but their connection, which was an ever-present thread, tying them and their emotions together, felt stretched taut. She could barely feel Kithar.
She dodged and ducked, pushing and pulling them out of the way. The Between seemed more wild than ever before, when she’d visited with Kith. Thinking of her brother, she wondered if he had come through too, but the thread connecting them felt faint. Perhaps he had remained on the other side.
They had never attempted to create a breach of their own. They had visited the Between during meditation and closed thousands of these holes in their seven years with Sir Doma. Although they had always landed in spaces that had a sense of time and place. This endless grey mist and nothingness was new. Thinking of her situation from that perspective brightened her mood. She could use this chance to learn so much!
Enlivened by the thought, Kithrin walked quicker and pulled out her storm sword, deciding she may as well start her experimentation by testing her new weapon on astral threads. She slashed and was gratified to see her stormsword crackle through the threads.
They shattered into dust-like particles that faded into the grey after a moment. Kithrin grinned at the realization she could walk more easily now, using her sword to cut a clearer path.
Next on her list was exploring where she could go and if there could even be a concept of “where.” She figured there had to be some reason to even the chaos of the Between.
First, because it connected all worlds and that meant the order of those planes inevitably should leak into the Between too. Second, because the twins had run into portals within the Between regularly and that indicated there had to be some sort of probability to their appearance, and thus again, order.
Kithrin continued thinking of ways to reason the Between and began counting the number of slashes she made to calculate the length of distance she travelled, as well as giving her as close to an approximation of time as possible in this space.
Left slash, right slash, pause. Left slash, right slash, pause.
Kithrin had walked and walked in a forward direction for over five thousand slashes when she felt the first stirring of doubt to dampen her explorations.
She’d not run across a portal, or even the creatures that she had fought and turned back to the Between for seven years with her brother and Sir Doma.
There was nothing by grey, the threads writhing and wriggling, and her. The doubt lodged in her foot first, causing her steady forward motion to pause and threads to tangle around her ankles and arms. Others went for her neck as she slashed at the ones tangling around her limbs.
She growled out-loud and the sound entered the air and then was gone, as if it had been pulled under by a tide. That had never happened when she’d come here with Kith. She frowned and said out-loud, “I’m not crazy. You are nonsensical.”
Each word, as it was spoken entered the air and disappeared.
Kithrin began to talk to the air. This was her second test, in judging what was different about coming here alone versus with her twin.
“I will find my way back to you Kith, but first I will find mom and dad. I will turn back time and we will go home again. We will have our garden and our pups.”
Each word dropped into the grey with a plunk that settled in Kithrin’s belly and grew into more resolve. More resolve to keep going.
With a greater strength than before she took one step, then another and another.
Almost immediately a great black portal opened in front of her. It spun outward, sucking up the colorful threads which filled this space.
As Kithrin watched the portal, the black resolved into blurry colors and shapes.
“Do I go through?” She said out-loud, pulling on her first instinct to leap into the portal that had finally appeared. As her words dropped into the grey, she felt a pull in her belly. She nodded to nothing in particular and stepped on her back foot. Then, with a running leap she shot through the portal.
It felt the same as all the others, cold, wet and yet she remained dry. A tickle of lightning travelled up from her feet through her hands and then she landed with a thump on hard stones.
“Oww,” she said. She pushed herself up on her hands, feeling the grit of small pebbles and sand between cobblestones. She was in an alley, with two wood buildings on either side. The alley was empty otherwise, no empty amphoras and there were no doors from what she could see. She stood with a groan, leaning one arm against the wall nearest to her.
She could smell spices she was not familiar with and burning wood and minerals. Wherever she was, it may not be on the Continent, but it wasn’t far off her known world. Noticing this she felt her earlier thread of resolve strengthen.
Taking a breath in, she straightened and decided to venture toward what sounded like a main square or a market. She would explore this place and learn as much as she could, then she’d find a way back home.
She owed it to her twin to learn what she could from this incident. They had spent so long learning how to create a portal, she may as well make use of being the first known person to go to an entirely new world.
As she ventured up the alley she heard wagons, the clop of hooves, people talking, merchants shouting and the unknown spices grew stronger. She found herself stepping into a busy market square that looked almost alike to one on the Continent, except for a few stark differences that, despite her resolve, made a sense of homesickness stick in her gut.
Men wore tall black hats, and women had dresses that looked both confining and awkward for anything other than walking. There was a animal with a thick neck, mane and tail. It reminded Kithrin of the stripped akaloman that people rode on the Continent. There were lamp posts lit with some sort of oil and were the only pinpricks of light in the dingy smog-dense air. Candles were no longer used on the Continent, in favour of astral-powered lighting or crystals.
A sour, smoky smell blew toward Kithrin as she walked between stalls full of parchment, leatherwork, fabrics and even a stall full of clocks.
A mechanical wagon had driven up to the edge of the market. Curious, Kithrin wandered toward it with care. She was aware that her clothing was starkly different and even though the market was busy, she did not want to attract trouble.
She came up behind the wagon, and bent down to peer in the space underneath where the wheels were, curious to see the moving parts beyond the exterior. Kithrin squinted and bent lower, peering into the dark space underneath when someone spoke to her.
“Excuse me, sir?” It was a man’s voice, measured and polite. Startled, Kithrin knocked her head against the bottom of the wagon. She pushed out from under the vehicle with a wince, rubbing the back of her head with her hand.
“Ah, I am sorry. So sorry, miss.” The man was young, not much older than Kithrin, but very awkward with how he held himself. He wore his bright red-hair short and it stuck out under what Kithrin thought was a ridiculously tall hat.
Kithrin was not sure what the man was apologizing for and was still curious about the machine. “Is this yours? I’ve never seen the like.”
“Really?” The man said, “a siren like yourself has never seen a steam-car? Colour me surprised,” he laughed, as if this was a joke.
“I’m serious,” Kithrin said, “and I am no siren. I am a knight,” she stood up, straight and tall, one hand going back to grasp the handle of her stormsword strapped to her back.
“Oh, Miss, I mean no offense,” the man said, stepping back and holding up his hands in a recognizable gesture of peace. He did not want to fight her. Kithrin crossed her arms and frowned at the man.
“Where I come from, respect is shown to a knight, regardless of gender. Sir,” she said, echoing his first address from her.
“Where do you hail from, you ah, don’t sound familiar…” The man said fiddling with something tucked into a pocket of his long coat.
“What is it to you?” Kithrin said, still tense even as she uncrossed her arms to give the illusion of calm.
The man giggled, and Kithrin took a deep breath to refrain from smacking him over the head with his ridiculous hat. “I may…I am part of an organization, shall I say. We monitor less than normal activities and well, when you showed up around the Underdome, I just had to, well I was tasked with actually…anyway, I had to see and you are far more enticing than the usual creature to step through.”
“I am no creature. The name is Kithrin Rath,” Kithrin said with a scowl. She crossed her arms and took a step toward the man.
“My apologies Miss Rath. Wexley Severn at your service,” the man’s face went bright red as he swept his tall hat off his head. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to my offices? We can offer you sanctuary.”
“In return for information,” Kithrin said, her eyes narrowing. The man came across as an awkward fop that had probably never picked up anything heavier than a writing implement. He looked it too with his ridiculous hat, long coat and complexion that had never seen sun.
“No need to be so, well, vulgar Miss Rath. Now shall we?” He held out an elbow which Kithrin stared at for a moment before guessing he wanted her to take it. She frowned.
“I can walk proficiently on my own, thank you,” she said and walk is what she began to do. Toward what she assumed was a main street beyond the alley. The sky was full of smog and clouds.
“Magmars, Miss Rath, you are quite the firecracker. Are all women as you are, where you come from?”
Kithrin did not give him a response. Instead she quickened her steps and watched as Wexley Severn did the same. She did not trust this man. Not how much he seemed to take her being from another world in stride, the interest his organization seemed to hold for her or just what his intentions were personally.
“Is this organization of yours far?” Kithrin said after a moment, sensing her lack of response to his question and her desire to walk independently was riling the man up more than she wished. “What do you want with me?”
“We will be there in short order,” Wexley Severn said, “as for your other inquiry. Well, well, I don’t…I’m not sure.” His voice was strained, as if he was holding back frustration. Kithrin nodded and began to walk faster.
“Miss Rath, Miss Rath. Do slow down. You do not know where you are going and well, Galatea is a dangerous place for a woman.”
“Galatea? Is that this city? Good. I was getting quite bored already. You’ve not given me any information,” Kithrin said, taking some petty amusement in riling the man up.
“Miss Rath!” He said, he was behind her by a few steps. “I don’t, well, I don’t have clearance. See, clearance is well, it’s a thing…do you have clearance on your world?”
“Are you a representation of your gender on this world, Sir? If so, you’re krix at it. So if you have nothing to offer me in regards to my locale, or where the nearest taberna is, you’ll excuse me.” Kithrin had enough of the man trailing after her like an awkward puppy.
Wexley Severn pulled off his ridiculously tall hat and began to play with the edges while bobbing back and forth like some sort of broken doll only managing half a bow. “Apologies Miss, I fear our worldly differences may have misconstrued our understanding. See, my organization wants to help you. We do. I’m here to take you to appropriate lodgings.”
“Why. Answer me that and then, and only then will I deign to follow your krixing self anywhere,” Kithrin said, crossing her arms and leaning toward the man with her eyebrows turned down in a deep frown.
“Well, that’s well, classified. Confidential. Above my pay-grade. Restricted. I don’t know,” he shrugged.
Kithrin let out a long, frustrated sigh, “as I said, excuse me. I’ll just continue on my way and if whatever you do, needs me, tell them to send someone who has actually graduated from their infant cloths.”
Wexley Severn sputtered and frowned, stuck his hat back on his head and began to wring his hands. “Oh, what do I do…Miss Rath, I’m sorry. Please, come with me. Trust me. We do want to help. We’re, well, the only ones who know what has happened to you.”
“What do you know about what has happened to me?” Kithrin had started walking away when Severn’s rambled admission, and paused only for a second as he finally gave her a hint of an explanation to his presence and knowledge of her.
“I, well, I know you came from another world. That’s a devastating experience for anyone, but I am sure especially for you.”
“What, because I’m a woman?” Kithrin leaned in, slowly reaching one hand back to the hilt of her stormsword. “See that? That’s a stormsword, it’s made from catching lightning in the hilt. I caught that lightning, I wield this sword and I won’t hesitate to cause a scene.”
“Wexley, Wexley. That is no way to treat a lady,” a woman appeared from a building just ahead of Kithrin. She spoke over the noise of the street, but had a calm and controlled presence to her, very unlike Wexley Severn. Kithrin took her hand from her stormsword, but remained tense and ready, as she assessed the new arrival.
“I don’t need your help Augusta,” Wexley Severn said in such a way Kithrin could hear the scowl in his voice.
Augusta stepped up to Kithrin and leaned in to whisper, “dear me, aren’t boys just…”
Kithrin shrugged. She didn’t have the experience to fill in whatever Augusta was implying, but she could admit Wexley Severn was not likeable in the slightest.
“What my cousin is attempting is offering you asylum. We usually deal with creatures coming through the cracks, not sentient beings. This is a first for us, and dear Wexley is a country bumpkin. He’s only been in town with us for a year.”
“My name is Augusta Aqulia, and I apologize on the behalf of my cousin for the rather improper introductions. I am the daughter of the Grandmaster of the Benevolent Society of Philosopher Alchemists. We study the cracks and the flow of astral.”
“Can you wield it?” Kithrin asked, at the mention of astral, her curiousity and desire to learn whatever she could from this world over-riding any lingering fears for her life. These people did not seem to be dangerous, at least not physically. The woman was petite, and looked like she’d never lifted a ladle let alone a sword.
Augusta laughed, “of course not. It’s energy. That’s what machines are for. Although, we have records of people who could, but they are not from our world.”
Kithrin hummed and chose to not give away her abilities until she knew more. “You say you have a place for me to stay? Why are you offering to help? What am I to your organization?”
“Something new. We are researchers, we study the cracks, the things that fall through, the flow of the astral. It is thanks to our research that people can have steam-cars now.”
Kithrin could relate to the love of learning and nodded when Augusta stopped, encouraging her to continue.
“As I said, you are the first sentient being to come through and we want to learn as much as we can from you. What must it be like to travel between worlds? Oh, my dear. You must tell me everything.”
“That is what I hoped to,” Kithrin said. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement. It is part of my duty to learn as much as I can, about anything and everything to help others. It seems your organization may have the same goals. I will accept your offer of lodgings in return for giving whatever information I see fit and when I wish to give no more, I will leave.”
Augusta Aquila nodded, an amazed look crossing her pale features. “For someone who seems quite young you are a skilled negotiator,”
“I’ve travelled a lot,” Kithrin shrugged.
“I accept your terms in the name of the Benevolent Society of Philosopher Alchemists, Miss Rath. Follow me, my father will wish to see you and further terms may be discussed.”
Kithrin nodded and gave the other woman a polite smile which dropped the moment Augusta turned her back, leading Kithrin to the society’s location. Kithrin felt both at ease and still wary. She took in a deep breath, wrinkling her nose at the pollution and listened to the energy of the Voice.
Sure enough it flowed through this world, as it flowed through all things everywhere. It gave her no warning or sense of unease either so she picked up her speed and followed Augusta, vaguely aware of Wexley Severn hurrying along behind. He’d stayed back as she and Augusta had spoken and seemed content to remain that way.
Augusta stopped at the top of the stairs in front of the wooden double doors of the Society. Kithrin noted an eye symbol carved in the centre of both doors. It seemed to stare at her, reading her inside out and backwards. It made her hesitate, despite there being no sense of warning building around her.
“Welcome to the centre of all the greatest technological advancements in the world,” Augusta said, pride running thick through her voice. “We are glad to have you Miss Rath,” she added as she pushed one door in, releasing a musty smell out of the building. Kithrin wrinkled her nose, but followed as the other woman led her through a hallway of dark wood walls and floor covered in a deep green carpet. This world, or at least this city did not seem to have the same laws of cleanliness as the Twelve Kingdoms.
Augusta led Kithrin through a door in the hallway which opened into a round room that continued the theme of the hallway but included what looked to be an instrument with black and white keys and an elaborate pastoral scene painted on its wood, shelves full of books and low chairs and a round table with deep green fabrics.
“Please have a seat. My father should be with you shortly,” she said, gesturing to the chairs and then she disappeared back out into the hallway. Kithrin did not sit right away, feeling drawn toward the bookshelf and feeling wound up. She’d held herself together on the walk from the alley to here but the sounds, the people, the buildings, everything was so new and strange and yet, certain elements were eerily similar.
She took a breath, feeling the flow of the Voice, it rang at a different frequency than on the Continent, but it still did not ring with any warning. She looked at the wall of books with spines in reds, blues, greens, browns and thought of the Between and felt like the moment she stopped moving, everything would fall out from underneath her.
Taking another deep breath, Kithrin ran her fingers over the soft fabric and leather spines of the books, marvelling at how many were crammed into the shelves. She’d seen books before, during their apprenticeship years, but never so many in one place.
The rest of the Continent had no rules about writing their memories, their stories and their work down, but she’s never held any, not having a chance or desire to go against that particular rule of the Druadin Order and seek out libraries or private collections. There had always been enough to explore in the many lays, liturgies, epics and songs that the Knights of the Voice recited and sang, taught and shared.
As Kithrin examined the books she realized she could understand the writing and she frowned. She knew how to read, it had been a skill the twins’ parents had taught them, but to be able to understand the language of another world? It was not likely that they spoke Vulgaris, the common language across the Empire of Twelve Kingdoms.
She wondered if it had to do with her astral sensitivity. She’d tapped into the Voice here, but hadn’t tried anything else. Out of curiousity she directed her energy toward a small vase that sat in one corner of the room and she lifted it with ease. Then, she called it toward her hand and it flew across the room.
Holding the vase between her hands, feeling the coolness of the fired clay, Kithrin reflected how this place had similar building materials to the Continent. Kithrin felt her breath catch in her throat. It was similar to home here and yet so different.
The distance she had travelled sunk in and Kithrin felt her head throb as she attempted to grasp at the grand scope of what travelling to another world meant and how wide and great the universe really was.
And this was only one city, in one other world. Kithrin sent the vase back to its spot with a flick of her wrist as she felt a new desire rise inside her. She wanted to see the universe; everything that existed in all of time and space. She wanted to visit it, learn about it, record it and share it.
Her elation wilted for a moment as she thought about her brother. She wanted to share everything with Kith. Well, she would. First, she learn about this organization and perhaps even use them to get back, for they seemed to have some knowledge of other worlds.
They may know how to help her return, and then, she and Kithar could leave the Continent and travel. They could do more than just bring their parents back to life. They could do anything and everything.
“Ah, a kindred spirit I see,” said a scratchy male voice. Kithrin spun around and saw a tall and thin elderly man entering the room. He sat in one of the chairs and gestured for her to join. Kithrin sat in one across from him as he rang a small bell on a table beside the chairs.
One of the wall panels opened, revealing a hidden door and a man dressed in what Kithrin guessed was a servant’s uniform as the man asked what was being requested.
The elderly man, who Kithrin assumed was Augusta’s father, and the one who had been wanting to see her, asked for refreshments and then turned sharp, glittering eyes on her.
“It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Kithrin Rath. I am Thaddeus Aquila, Grandmaster of the Benevolent Society of Philosopher Alchemists in the grand town of London, center of her Majesty’s Empire. But you, my dear, may call me Sir Aquila.”
“What do you mean, ‘meet at last,’?” Kithrin frowned. It seemed the veneer of politeness and grandstanding was a thing for this world, or at the very least for these people who called themselves alchemists.
“We knew you would come. We have means of seeing that which is yet to occur, as much as we can see all that has, and all that could have, and all that might yet still. The past, the future, each and every moment is a flickering, gem-like flame that can be blown out, blown bigger and pulled every which way.”
Kithrin was used to flowery metaphors as that was how the Druadin passed on their knowledge, but a burning question was sitting with her, building with every moment she continued to sit in this stuffy room of dark wood, thick books, a layer of dust and old artefacts from a world that was not her own.
“Why are you helping me?” She asked, leaning forward, her hands on her knees.
“Because you can help us,” Sir Aquila replied. It was just as Edwin Severn had said. Kithrin sat back, the tension in her shoulders loosening somewhat.
“But why?” She insisted.
“You have something we need. Something we’ve been waiting for. And you, my dear, want to get back home. That is something we can help with.”
Kithrin hummed in response, thinking back over what had been said between them so far and a small detail that did not fit, popped up.
“Why do you call yourself “Sir?” She asked, curious what the title, reserved for Druadin knights on the Continent, meant in this world.
Sir Aquila chuckled, it was a friendly laugh but Kithrin felt wrong-footed by it. She squashed the gut-feeling down, wanting to learn more before she let her emotions lead her like they did her twin.
“Thousands of years ago we once had men called knights, simple lone soldiers who lived by a code of chivalry and protected the people of the countryside. It is a title that is part of my ancestry and the lands I own for we no longer live in such barbaric and war-torn times.”
Kithrin nodded, filing the information away as further examples of the differences between her world and this one.
“We need you, for your connection to the energy
of the universe, what you call the Voice. Yes, I know something of your
world,” he added at a sharp look from Kithrin at his easy use of the term.
“We use machinery here, to work with that energy. But you act as a the
conduit, a channel through which it flows and it is through your will that then
it acts and reacts. We have not yet developed machinery that can enact its will
upon energy and we could use your help with maintaining the doors between worlds
that we have been able to open. To maintain them long enough for us to be able
to step through to those other sides and then return without issue.”
“You can open the doors? How? It took both my brother and I to open just one. Usually they open naturally, in places all over the Continent. How can normal humans do it? You are human right?”
Sir Aquila chuckled. “There are only humans here. Only humans with science, for that is alchemy. Although, if you spoke with any person on the street, they would call us magicians and fringe academics who are chasing fantasies.”
“And yet, it is through our work that steam-power was made possible. It is through our work that we have discovered the Star Bridge, is real, as are all the paths on the World Tree. The ancients of our world coded so much knowledge in their stories that many here in my world have looked at as the imaginings of primitive folk. Not realizing that time is not linear, but circular, happening all at once and we have always held the universe in a grain of sand. But only now are we starting to see it.”
As he spoke, Sir Aquila became more animated in his face and with hand-gestures. He leaned forward and seemed to entreat Kithrin to agree with him, even though she did not relate. For coding knowledge in stories and song, that was treating knowledge as something sacred, as a power that must be earned, not as something profane that could be misused and twisted when written down.
She nodded when he paused, looking to her as if she had all the knowledge in the universe. She did not and she found it odd to be looked at with such reverence. She was used to being just an apprentice, a difficult apprentice, one half of a twin and not her own person.
“I’m not from your world, Sir Aquila. I can see your passion, and I respect that. I wish to learn what I can, but then I want to return to my own, so I will help you, but know that I do it for my world, where I will return one day soon.”
“As it should be. I do not expect you to stand with us, to understand us or me. It is as it should be, my dear,” and then he stuck out his hand. Kithrin frowned at it for a moment, before realizing it was a gesture of agreement and she put her hand in his.
“Good, good,” Sir Aquila rang the bell and when the same servant from before, appeared, he requested for Augusta to be brought.
“My daughter will come take you to your quarters for now, I’ll have dinner brought up to you and tomorrow we will discuss exactly how you can help us.”
“Thank you,” Kithrin said with a nod, standing as Sir Aquila did. He bowed and left, leaving Kithrin to her thoughts.
She felt more at ease after speaking to Sir Aquila. She could relate to passion, especially studious passion. In the middle of trouble, trapped in the between, she’d made mental notes of many aspects of the space that she could wait to test further and put into verse to share, as her own work, with the Druadin Awen — the collective wisdom of their Order.
And yet, Kithrin still felt on edge, wishing she had a way of contacting Kithar and letting him know she was safe and she was going to come back with knowledge the whole Order did not even have. It felt like only a few hours ago she had been with Kithar upon the cliff.
I’ve found something that could help us bring mom and dad back. Wait for me Kith, she thought. I’m going to see what else I can do as I find my way back. We have a whole universe to explore!
“Excuse me, Miss Rath,” Augusta’s voice broke into Kithrin’s awareness.
“Oh, hello. Yes, of course,” Kithrin stumbled over her words as she pulled herself from her thoughts and followed Augusta out of the room, down another hallway, up a set of stairs, another hallway, a smaller set of stairs and finally a door made of dark wood like all the rest of the building.
“You rooms,” Augusta said. “The servants will bring dinner shortly. Please do not leave, it is very easy to get lost here. I’ll come by in the morning to collect you. Oh, and clean clothes have been left for you as well.” With a bob of her waist and her wide purple skirts, Augusta turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving Kithrin to herself.
The rooms the alchemists gave her were by far the most elaborate she had ever seen. There was a large fireplace with logs in a basket beside it, chairs and a long sofa in the same style as the room she had met Sir Aquila in. The walls were the same dark paneled wood and the colours were all reds and golds.
There was a door leading into a room for bathing with pure white porcelain. A second door led into the biggest bed Kithrin had ever seen, it could fit at least four people she thought and had a huge canopy of gold and red that seemed to shimmer in the light still filtering in from the one large window in the room.
There was a tall screen made of wood beside the bed which had clothing hanging off of it. One item was a long dress of a soft fabric that she assumed must be sleepwear, in comparison to the other dress which had multiple layers. The outer layer of which was a deep red with gold and some sort of small, round white gems decorating the top half.
Kithrin walked back through the massive space that was her “room,” one more time, marvelling and how people of this world quantified their space. The walls had lamps powered by some form of oil, although it didn’t smell of grapes or olives when she tested one and the plumbing for the bathing room did not use crystals for heating or power, seeming to rely on gears and steam instead.
It was a restrictive, but elaborate world that reminded Kithrin of what she had heard of the Imperial Palace back home. Sir Doma had never taken the twins there, often saying there was more to learn in adversity than comfort. Although both the twins had never agreed with their Druadin master’s opinion that camping, bugs and mud should be part of adversity.
Kithrin walked back to the bed and flopped onto it, appreciating the slight bounce of the thick fabrics and mattress. She was quite happy to face all manner of creatures from between the worlds, or ne’er-do-wells who went against the peace of the Empire of Twelve Kingdoms, but she did not like mud.
At that thought she sat up, eyes wide and scrambled off the bed, going straight for the bathing chamber. She turned the various levers and hummed with satisfaction as warm water began to pour into the bathtub.
A knock came at the door, “Miss Rath?” Called a voice she did not recognize, until she remembered a servant was to bring around dinner.
“Come in,” she called. Immediately her nose was filled with the smell of spices similar to what she’d smelled outside on the way to the alchemist’s building, the door began to shut before she had stepped out, “thank you,” she said to the closing door. The servant had been in and out as quick as a bird.
They had left for a tray full of a variety of foods, some sort of bread, vegetables of various colours, a meat and a pitcher of a red liquid that, upon a quick sniff, she identified as a wine. Delighted by the similarities between this world’s food and her own, she nearly started to dig in, before she remembered she’d left water running and hurried back to have her bath.
Sometime later, as the sky outside the large windows in her room began to darken, Kithrin settled into bed, clean, fed and content. She had a way back home and she had so much new knowledge she couldn’t wait to explore, and share with Kithar.
Kithrin closed her eyes, curling under the sheets of the massive bed, trying to sleep when she heard a scratching noise. She tried ignoring it at first, but it kept going. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed and followed the sound to the door of her room. The scratching became more insistent as she got closer and then she opened the door. Looking out, she saw nothing, until the meow of a cat made her look down to see a black and white feline with gold eyes sitting on the floor, looking up at her.
“Mrrow,” the cat said and then it began to walk away, down the hall. When Kithrin remained standing where she was, frowning after the animal, it stopped, looked back at her and meowed again.
“You want me to follow?” Kithrin whispered incredulously, feeling a little silly to be talking to an animal like it could understand. The cat meowed and began to walk down the hall once more with its tail sticking up in the air, twitching back and forth.
Kithrin sighed, shut her door and hurried after the cat who took her down and around and around through the house, making it seem so much bigger on the inside than it looked from outside.
Outside a window, Kithrin could see a quarter
moon shining brightly and a cloudless night sky speckled with stars. The
society house was thankfully quiet and she did not run into anyone as she
followed the cat. They had gone down four floors and the cat was now leading
her through a corridor lit with oil lamps.
There were no windows and Kithrin was beginning to feel trapped. The Druadin
temples on the Continent did not use glass windows and were largely open to the
elements. Most buildings upon the Continent were open, and tended toward beaded
or fabric curtains between rooms rather than doors.
This corridor was full of doors and each one was different. There was a
red-painted wood door, an iron door, a copper door, a stained glass door, a
regular wood door, a door with a sun carved into it and a door that had a
little window although the room on the other side was dark. Kithrin wondered
what lay behind each door as she walked the long hallway that seemed to go on
and on.
“Where are we going?” She finally hissed at the cat. They had not run across anyone yet but there had to be someone nearby, why else would all the lamps in the hallway be lit. Kithrin shivered, and it was not from the chillier air down at this level but from a feeling in her gut that was pulling her in two different directions.
They passed two more doors when the cat stopped, and turned its head to look up at Kithrin with eyes that seemed to know far more than Kithrin would expect of an animal.
The cat stood on its hind legs and batted its paws against a fabric curtain in the place of a door, just like on the Continent. The curtain was a deep red with green and purple vines embroidered around the edges and rearing unicorn in the centre. Kithrin eyed it with distrust, wondering what something from her world was doing here. The unicorn was the symbol of the Kingdom of Camalos, where she and Kithar had grown up.
The cat meowed and landed on its four legs, nudging the curtain aside and disappeared into the room beyond. Kithrin sighed and followed suit.
The room was dark and immediately Kithrin snapped her fingers and sent a ball of light to float above her. The light illuminated the space enough that she could see an oil lamp to the left of where she stood. She turned it on and more of the space became visible.
The room was full of shelves of jars, baskets and barrels. As Kithrin inspected the jars she found them full of organs, in parts and pieces. She flinched away and whispered, “cat, what’s this? Why did you bring me here?”
The cat meowed somewhere beyond the shelves of jars. Kithrin wrinkled her nose as she followed the sound and found the cat at another curtain. Muffled sounds filtered from the room beyond; chirps, snuffling and a growl that made Kithrin freeze and look at the cat.
“Really?” She said, looking down at the cat. The cat meowed and gave her a look that made Kithrin scowl. “I’m not scared. Just smart and I’m a guest. What in the seven skies do you want me to think? Why am I here?”
When the cat meowed this time it sounded annoyed and then it disappeared through the curtain with its tail tall and twitching. Kithrin huffed, “fine don’t answer, you’re just a cat,” and then she waved a hand to pull the ball of light along with her into the next room.
As the light illuminated the next space Kithrin felt all breath leave her. This room was full of cages and in the cages were animals. She did not recognize most of them, and many seemed to be a combination of multiple animals, but she walked through the space she spotted a baby akaloman on four wobbly legs.
It’s coat was deep black with a streak of gold through its muzzle. She smiled at the sight of the familiar creature, but the moment of joy was smothered by her next thought. It was one thing for there to be objects from her world in this one, but for there to be an animal, she wondered at what Sir Aquila was hiding, not just with the alchemists’ abilities to travel to other worlds, but what they were doing with these animals.
Beyond all the cages was another door, covered by fabric and Kithrin ducked through, not bothering to find the cat. She was grateful for the help she had received from these alchemists, but she wanted to learn more about them and this world. She’d committed to helping them, to help herself and she was beginning to wonder if she’d made the wrong decision.
“Stupid cat,” she muttered, placing the blame of her uncertainty on the feline, as she explored the small room she’d entered. It had a single shelf, a long table, two chairs and a podium with an open book placed upon it.
She looked at the book on the podium first. It was open to a drawing of a tree with large fruits hanging off of it. Each fruit was coloured labelled, the fruit at the centre of the tree had two colours.
An arrow pointing to one of the fruits, a deep blue one labelled Skylands had a note attached which read: suspected location of a land known as the Continent by natives, which seems to flip between Imperial and medieval means of rule.
“I knew it,” Kithrin whispered out-loud, “they have been to the Continent before.”
On the page next to the tree was a picture of three doors. One was white, one was black and the middle one was grey.
An inscription beneath it read: the path of alchemy lies in balance of opposites. The part is always of the whole.
Thinking of the merged animals, Kithrin snorted and flipped to another page. This one had an image of a Lighthouse with a red roof. The inscription beneath the plate read: seek the Lighthouse and ye shall gain the power to walk the branches of the Great Tree.
The picture looked eerily similar to the infamous Lighthouse which sat on the coastline of the north-westerly Kingdom of Vindia. It was a location full of legends and rumour; according to Sir Doma it was currently empty and not at all haunted, but legends spoke of how it had once been the home of a demi-god from another world who went by the name of the Magician. Anyone who went near it nowadays got lost in the mists and was never heard of again so the twins had never taken much stock in Sir Doma’s practical assumptions.
Kithrin continued flipping through the book, more curious than ever about the connection between her world and the alchemists of this one. She was equally fascinated by the book itself. The last time she’d picked one up had been as a child, before she’d been taken in by the Druadin.
Seeing so much knowledge open for anyone to stumble across was both a frightening thing to see and empowering. Kithrin did not have to wait for someone to feel she was worthy of learning something or of needing to ask the right question in order to gain the right knowledge from whatever convoluted story it was hidden in. She could flip a page and take whatever she wanted.
“Miss Rath?” The voice of Sir Aquila reverberated from behind the curtain before he appeared in the doorway. Kithrin let out a yelp and stumbled back, away from the book on the podium.
“I’m sorry, sorry. I couldn’t sleep and got lost,” she said, knowing full well how flimsy her excuse sounded.
“I see,” Sir Aquila replied.
That was when Kithrin noticed the cat that had led her down here weaving around and around Sir Aquila’s trousers. It had to be just past midnight and yet the man looked like he hadn’t gone to bed yet.
“Don’t apologize, I appreciate the curiousity you show. It is a necessary quality in a man of science.”
“But I am a woman,” Kithrin said, feeling wrong-footed by how calmly the man was reacting when only earlier that day he had warned her to not go snooping about.
“But you are not of this world, so you can be anything here. Would you like to learn alchemy?” He said, gesturing toward the book on the podium. “I see you have been perusing Delphinius’s Paths of the Universe.”
“Yes, it holds many similarities to our Druadin teachings,” Kithrin said. “But I’m just here to help, nothing more and nothing less.”
“Perhaps understanding alchemy can help you more than you realize, beyond that which will get you home. You were drawn here for a reason and I expect you believe in fate, tied as it is to your Voice.”
Kithrin nodded, not having anything to refute to what Sir Aquila said and she thought about the possibilities before her.
“What are you alchemists doing here? Really? If I am to help you keep doors permanently open between worlds, I want to know why you have pieces from my world, animals even.”
Sir Aquila brought his hands together and nodded. “Of course my dear. You see, we alchemists are concerned with understanding how the Universe works and employ it to improve our lives.”
Kithrin tensed and crossed her arms. “The Universe is not a tool. We are all a part of it as it is a part of us.”
“Exactly and that is why it is there for us to use. Let me use an analogy; the Universe is bones and we are a skeleton of it. And if one of those bones breaks, you cannot reset it and heal it without understanding the skeleton.”
“No,” Kithrin said. “That’s how the physical world works, but we Druadin don’t work with the physical. We work with the elements, the Voice in all things.”
“But it is an energy, with a give and a take, a flow like the ocean. There are things to learn and understand.”
Kithrin tapped her foot, impatient and wondering how she could slip out of this conversation, even though she had been the one to tangle herself into it. Sir Aquila showed no sign of finishing his mini-lecture.
“What if I told you, there are things about the Voice that the Druadin don’t dare touch, that could allow you to do more than just get back home. You could travel through time, you could even bring people back to life.”
Kithrin’s earlier impatience melted away as she silently mouthed what Sir Aquila had said. It was exactly what she and Kithar had been wanting to do for years.
She’d come to this world by accident and alone, but underneath her need to return home to her twin, just as she knew when she had wandered through the Between, wondering if she would ever escape, she knew now that she would keep going on this path, for it was leading her to the very thing she and her brother had been seeking for so long.
A way to turn back time, to return to those idyllic days when she and her brother had known nothing more than clay, gardens and the beauty and joy contained within both.
“I’m curious,” Kithrin said, “do tell me more and what books would you recommend? I’d like to get started on our agreement right away and I’d like to add an amendment.”
“Of course,” Sir Aquila said with a glint to his eye. The cat still winding around his legs gave a loud meow and left the room with its tail stuck up high.
“I want to bring my parents back,” she said and Sir Aquila smiled and stuck out a hand.
“Let us shake on our new union, Miss Rath. I foresee us to be excellent partners and for you, a glorious future indeed.”
Kithrin took Sir Aquila’s hand and with that first act, she began to integrate herself more firmly into this new world’s culture and ideals.
She did it in the name of experimentation and learning, not yet aware that no amount of logical disguise could hide the losses she had not yet let go after so many years, or the more recent loss of her home and her brother.
She focused instead on learning as much as she could, becoming more powerful than ever, so that when she would return to her brother, neither of them would feel sorrow ever again.
Author’s Note: This is the last we’ll see of the Rath twins for now. I am currently adapting these shorts into more expanded novels, but I hope you enjoyed the little glimpse into what their story is becoming!
Next story, coming out in April, will be delving into an adventure of Fox and Swan during their youth (which you may remember as the parents of Casarius Rath from The Boy Who Would Make the Sky Fall. You can read it: here).
