The fjord was pristine in the pale pre-dawn glow, shimmering waves rippling outward from the boat as it crossed the waters towards Thadheine. Roland stood at the bow, hands on the railing, watching the sky as light and color slowly emerged into the new day.
He didn’t watch alone. He was never alone, now, and not just because of his constant traveling companions. In his heart, his relationship with the four Fantasians he’d bonded with was growing every day, and their songs were more noticeable in each conscious moment. They were welcoming presences, though: pleasant, peaceful Kirin was an ever-reassuring presence, somewhat sleepy at the start of this new day. Viatos — who preferred to be called, affectionately, “Vi” — was playing little pranks on Kirin, trying to trick his sleepy mind into nonsensical responses to her jokes. Shureen was introspective and contemplative, matching Roland’s mood lately. And Jurall was silent, but Roland felt him, watching, listening, paying attention to what his Summoner would do — and waiting somewhat impatiently for another opportunity to show his power.
I’ve… wondered, at times, Roland thought, speaking internally with his Fantasians. You’re with me. But you make Pacts with multiple Summoners, don’t you? How does that work? Where do you physically reside?
“Right here, of course!” sang Vi. “I’m the air that fills your ailing lungs!”
Roland chuckled, rolling his eyes. Kirin didn’t spot the jest, however. “That’s not true,” he sang placidly. “You help purify his air, of course, but you aren’t physically the air. Just like we aren’t physically present in his body. That wouldn’t work out very well. We take up too much space.”
“I don’t!” Vi countered, and Roland could hear the pout in her voice. “I’m the wind! And spritely! I can fit anywhere without bothering anyone.”
“We are more than capable of being in multiple places at the same time,” sang Jurall. “We do not manifest physically within the Summoners we have formed Pacts with. But we can manifest for them, when called upon — even multiple Summoners at once.”
“You are not asking the question you wish to ask,” sang Shureen. Perceptive.
Roland bowed his head, giving a little self-deprecating chuckle. Why… me? Alystair believes I can be the one to open the path to lost Elysia. What of other Summoners, who have walked the Path before, who have completed Pacts with all eight? Why has no other Summoner done what is written in the Song of the Eight?
“It’s bad form to speak of other Summoners,” sang Kirin, and he yawned, shaking himself more awake. “More than that, our essence that goes with you, that you are bonded with, is only a part of us.”
“Meaning we don’t have all our memories,” sang Vi, pouting again. “That’s how the Creator made us. But I don’t appreciate it! What’s the harm in giving you the full story, anyway? I still have some bits and pieces of my travels with other Summoners, and I can tell you there was at least one who finished the Path of the Eight and tried to open the way to Elysia. He failed.”
But why?
“Dunno,” sang Vi, and Roland could feel her mental shrug. “I only remember bits and pieces. But it’s not like every Summoner even tries to get to Elysia. And even those who try wouldn’t know where to start.”
“The truth lies in Aula Fantasia,” sang Jurall. “Each of the Fantasians is bound by numerous oaths, locks sung into being by the Creator. Walking the Path of the Eight, and passing the Trials in Aula Fantasia, provides the keys. We four hold half of the answer to Elysia. The Second Quartet holds the other half. But even forming Pacts with all eight of us will not be enough. You must pass the Trials at Aula Fantasia. And if you fail, you will be like so many Summoners before you: incomplete.”
Roland’s brow furrowed. Incomplete?
“Forming eight Pacts, and having the power of the Eight, is still only a taste of the Summoner’s true role,” sang Shureen. “Once you go to Aula Fantasia, you will begin to understand. There is little use in telling you much as we are now. We only have partial answers, and those only for some of your many questions.”
“I still don’t appreciate it,” sang Vi. “Knowing is only half the battle! So what if Summoners know the truth? They still have to do really difficult things to accomplish their goals. We wouldn’t be giving anything away.”
“We must trust the Creator’s will,” sang Kirin with a peaceful smile. “He knew what He was doing when he established the Eight, and all that we are meant to oversee, and the Path that Summoners must walk to reach the full truth.”
So… all of you are incomplete, then? Roland asked. As you are now — and even as I faced you within your Canons — that’s only part of your full selves?
“Of course,” sang Jurall. “You think those physical forms were manifestations of our full power and majesty? To look upon us and comprehend us in our totality would be beyond the ability of any mortal.”
“And we are meant to join with many others in part,” Shureen sang, “or there would only be one Summoner, and all others who attempted the Path would be unable to form Pacts with us in the first place.”
Then… has any Summoner before completed the Path of the Eight, and succeeded in the Trials at Aula Fantasia?
There was a long silence in his heart. Not one of contemplation, either. Roland could feel it. Even Vi, so displeased with her predicament, so eager to provide answers, was hesitant now.
If they had, Roland continued, then why wouldn’t the door to Elysia be open? But then, there is also the Song of the Promise, and the need for the Promised King and Queen to bring back Elysia. There are things that don’t line up, at least as far as current understanding and interpretation goes. And if the Path of the Eight, and Aula Fantasia, were created solely for the purposes of reclaiming lost Elysia, then all of this must have been established after the Fracturing. But you were all created before the Fracturing, and as far as we can tell Aula Fantasia predates the Fracturing as well. So then, did the Creator know the Fracturing would take place, and established all of this as a safeguard in advance? But why wouldn’t He have just prevented the Fracturing to begin with, if He knew it was to take place? And then you have to wonder why multiple Summoners are allowed to make Pacts, and even complete the Trials, if only one will open the door to lost Elysia, and —
“Gah! Will you stop thinking so much for five seconds?” sang Vi in a sudden outburst. “You’ve got tons of questions, and we don’t have all the answers. And anyway, who cares about all the nitty-gritty details? Listen: just do what you have to do to help out the twins, and then get to Aula Fantasia. Things’ll start to make sense there. And we’ll finally get to open up to you a bit more about all your questions.”
“If he passes the Trials,” sang Jurall.
“Of course he will!” Vi sang without missing a beat. Kirin offered an equally hearty agreement.
“You have all the potential,” Shureen sang. “I look forward to seeing you conquer the first Trial, and move forward to the Second Quartet.”
Thank you. But Roland couldn’t leave it at that. There was more, a question behind the question he’d hesitated to ask.
Alystair walked the Path of the Eight, Roland thought, finally broaching the subject. He entered each of your Canons, met with each of you face-to-face, including the Second Quartet. But he never formed Pacts with any of you. He didn’t take on the trials. He didn’t try to reach Elysia himself. Do you… know why?
“He could have been the greatest Summoner the world had ever seen,” Jurall sang, and Roland heard a bitterness and regret in his voice. “But he refused. He said that he was ‘not the one.’ Even then, before we knew of your existence, he knew that you would be the one to open the door to Elysia.”
But how could he know that?
“He never told us,” Vi sang. She, too, had a sorrow in her voice at the memory of Alystair. “And then he…”
“His death was a disgusting waste of mortal life,” Jurall sang. “His killer should burn forever in the deepest, hottest pit of torment.”
“And his sister should be ashamed of herself!” added Vi. “How could Eilidh spit on his memory like that? Joining up with Zweitracht, even inventing a way to suppress Pact Artes… it’s unforgivable!”
“Alystair hasn’t given up on her,” sang Kirin. “We shouldn’t, either.”
Do you know Eilidh? Roland asked. Personally, I mean?
“Not personally,” sang Shureen. “Only by reputation. She and Muirrach are both scholars, never walking the Path of the Eight themselves. Roland: we trust Alystair, as do you. If he believes that you can reach Eilidh and turn her from this dark path, we will aid you to the best of our ability.”
“Sing for yourself!” sang Vi. “Even if we wanted to, she was blocking out our songs, interfering with our voices. We were helpless!”
Jurall chuckled. “You were. I was not.”
“We can follow Jurall’s example,” sang Kirin. “He already pointed out a flaw in Eilidh’s interference. Rhythm is the answer.”
“Well, Roland had better level up his footwork, then,” sang Vi. “I expect more than just drums if you want to bring me out with rhythm. I deserve a dance!”
“You guys have a lot to talk about, huh?” asked a sunny voice. Roland looked to see Tsubasa standing beside him, smiling at him.
“You can tell?” he asked, laughing at the argument Vi was still keeping up.
“You get this look in your eyes, sometimes,” Tsubasa said, “and I realize you’re having a conversation no one else can hear. And sometimes you hum little bits of their songs under your breath, real softly.”
“Ah,” Roland said, turning away, smiling. “I should know by now there’s no hiding anything from you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Tsubasa said. Roland looked aside and saw her gazing out at their destination. Her smile had faded.
“I’m glad we’re getting to Thadheine on the first crossing,” Roland said. “We can enjoy the town with the others, let them see the sights, before we continue on to Loch Reòsair.”
Tsubasa’s smile came back, and, as if on cue, the sun finally poked up over the mountains, bathing the world in bright color. “It’s always good to have fun, even when we’re on an adventure with a specific destination in mind,” she said. “And it’s so much fun seeing those kids take in brand new sights. I loved watching them at Twinkling, and Shureen’s Cove, and Mount Fuarain. That kind of wonder… I don’t want it to be only for children. I want to be just as amazed by the world as them, as long as I live.”
“We should all aspire for the same,” Roland said.
“Darn right!” Tsubasa said, grinning at him.
“Oh, check out that sunrise,” said Tock, joining them at the front of the ship. Around one finger she was twirling the key that went to her and Maxwell’s ship.
“It’s beautiful,” Tsubasa said. “You check in on your ship? You’re probably itching to get back to your mission, right?”
Tock stopped twirling her key and stared at it, a pensive look in her eyes. “We checked on things,” she said. “She’s finally ready for us. With a bit of hands-on repairs, she’ll be ready to set off again. I think we’ll try to handle that after Loch Reòsair. The day’s just starting, and we’ve got a brand new place to explore. Besides, it’s not like we’re in a rush or anything.” She swiftly pocketed the key, turning her gaze back out across the water, hope shining in her eyes. “I don’t want to miss this.”
They docked shortly and all disembarked together, Roland and Tsubasa admiring the looks of awe and delight on Erika and Enrique’s faces as they took in Thadheine.
The shore of the fjord swiftly transformed inland into towering, rocky cliffs. Hewn into the rock were stairs and roads, and built upon various rising tiers were a whole host of houses and businesses, all tall buildings with colorful facades and ornate shingles upon their roofs. Flying from nearly every balcony were bold, artistic pennants displaying all manner of designs, from winged serpents, to crowns of flowers, to sparkling glaciers, and so much more. Windows were opening, revealing cheerful faces rising to the dawn. Smoke curled upwards from numerous chimneys, furnaces and fireplaces getting stoked for the day’s work.
Along the main thoroughfare, a wide lane cutting straight through the center of the town, were a number of ornate metal pedestals, housing glittering icy-blue crystals that sparkled with motes of both blue and orange light. Each crystal was about half as tall as Roland, and the metallic pedestals they were set into had wiring disappearing into the ground below — harmonic crystal generators, the primary power source for the city, drawing upon and synchronizing with the natural magic of the fjord and Loch Reòsair beyond. And in a place of such potent natural magics, there were bound to be found…
“Fantasians,” Roland said softly, smiling. Small ethereal creatures were flying from crystal to crystal, and all about town. Some were an icy blue, others a warm, fiery orange. Each had indistinct features — a face, of sorts, though hard to parse as their translucent forms moved so quickly. There were hands that stretched out to touch the crystals or spread motes of light where they went, but they didn’t seem to have legs, instead trailing something like long, fluttering robes.
“Fantasians?” Enrique asked. “But the Fantasians are in their Canons, aren’t they? There isn’t a Fantasian here, or a Canon, is there?”
“You formed Pacts with the First Quartet,” Erika said. “You’d have known if there was another Fantasian’s Canon here, wouldn’t you?”
“Not the Greater Fantasians,” Roland said, “but lesser fantasians. They are kin to fairies, but rather than being born of crystals, they are born of the natural magics of the world, and in places potent with natural magic, they bestow the blessings of the Greater Fantasians they serve. Here you can see fantasians who serve Shureen and Jurall, bestowing blessings of water and fire magics, respectively.”
“I’d never heard of lesser fantasians,” Enrique said softly, staring in awe.
“There are many who don’t know about them,” Muirrach said. “The Eight take up the lion’s share of discourse surrounding the natural magic of the world. And lesser fantasians are not seen except in places like this, nexuses overflowing with natural magic. We have Loch Reòsair to thank for this sight.”
Two fantasians, one blue, one orange, floated down to Roland and hovered in front of him, eyeing him with curiosity. Then they held out their hands, and Roland rolled up his right sleeve and held out his right arm. The blue fantasian touched the tattoo of Shureen, and the orange one touched the tattoo of Jurall. Roland hummed each of those Fantasian’s songs, and the lesser fantasians harmonized with him. The tattoos lit up with light, and then the fantasians glowed brighter. They backed away from Roland, and seemed to smile, waving in thanks. Then they flew off into the city.
“What just happened?” Tsubasa asked.
“They welcomed a Summoner,” Roland said, rolling down his sleeve. He didn’t look at any of his companions, his gaze downcast, feeling rather self-conscious. “Lesser fantasians often take interest in Summoners. Those that do like to check and see if that Summoner is one to be trusted, or not.”
“And they, of course, decided you were one of the good ones,” Tsubasa said. Roland glanced at her, and saw her smiling at him.
“No doubt!” Erika said. “Oh, this is a wonderful place! Where should we go first?”
“Loch Reòsair,” Enrique said. “We need to stay on task. Now that we’re so close to where we started… to answers about our parents…”
But he was trailing off, and Roland smiled to see how Enrique gazed about town, clearly as interested in exploring as she was.
“We arrived at dawn,” Roland said. “The Reòsair Gate is just up ahead, and from there, it’s only an hour to the Loch itself. We could spend the morning exploring, and head to the Loch after lunch.”
“Oh, can we, brother?” Erika asked, grasping one of Enrique’s hands with both of hers, gazing into his eyes. “Please?”
“I… suppose that would be acceptable,” Enrique said, flustered. Erika beamed at him, and he ducked his gaze, blushing at her effusive gratitude.
“So?” Maxwell asked. “Where should we start?”
Hungry stomachs beckoned them to seek out breakfast. Tsubasa took the lead, being the most familiar with the town. “I know just the spot!” she said, heading only a short ways up the main thoroughfare before climbing a set of stairs into narrower streets, with quick turns that swiftly had Roland’s head spinning, struggling to put together a mental map of the place. But thank goodness Tsubasa knew where she was going, as they soon emerged into a circular plaza with several boutiques and cafés just opening for business.
Tsubasa picked the café, a green-walled establishment called “Dodo’s Doorstop.” The grey-feathered, thick-beaked proprietor smiled brightly when they entered. “Ah, Tsubasa!” he said in a thick North Wonderian accent. “It’s been too long, lass. And you come with friends, this time?”
“Not alone this time, Dodo,” Tsubasa said with a grin. “How’s business?”
“No complaints here,” Dodo said. “Let me get you started with something to drink, eh?”
Despite the brisk morning chill, Tsubasa wanted to sit outdoors — but Muirrach protested, shivering. So they sat indoors by a cozy fireplace, all of them ordering warm drinks — café au lait for Tock, hot chocolate for Maxwell and Erika, herbal tea for Roland, Muirrach, and Enrique… and an iced coffee for Tsubasa.
“Aren’t you cold?” Erika asked. She’d buttoned her jacket all the way up to the collar, and was eyeing Tsubasa’s bare midriff and short shorts.
“Ah, this is nothing,” Tsubasa said with a shrug. “I’m from Fuyuo! Kinda. Anyway, we don’t cover up until there’s at least three feet of snow outside, and even then it kinda feels like overkill.”
“I feel like you’re making that up,” Erika said.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Tsubasa asked.
“I think you’re probably the only person who waits that long to cover up,” Erika said. “It’s not hereditary. It’s just you.”
“You calling me weird, Erika?” Tsubasa asked, leaning close to her. Even with the accusatory tone, she was smirking, and Erika caught on.
“Maybe,” Erika said, laughing softly. Tsubasa laughed, too.
They ordered food, and it was excellent — and the company even more so. After a hearty breakfast, they headed back out into the plaza, ready to explore.
Well… almost. Muirrach stopped in at the nearest clothing boutique and bought a blue overcoat which he buttoned all the way up. Tsubasa called him “dashing,” and Roland and the rest of them agreed, which seemed to raise Muirrach’s spirits quite a bit.
Tsubasa was leading the way, fielding questions from Erika, Enrique, and Tock, and announced the plan to take them up to the Observatorium on the highest cliff. Roland, Muirrach, and Maxwell took up the rear of the group, each silent with their thoughts, looking all over the place, taking in the sights and sounds. It was a lovely morning, with clear skies that promised a very pleasant trip out to the Loch in the afternoon.
And then, the pleasant conversation and thoughtfulness were all shattered by a sudden, high-pitched sound from Tsubasa, something between a shocked gasp and an excited squeal. Roland, Muirrach, Erika, Enrique, Tock, and Maxwell all stared, wide-eyed, at Tsubasa, who was now standing at a wall, hands planted on either side of a poster.
“Tsubasa?” Erika asked worriedly. “Are you… all right?”
“Am I ever?!?” Tsubasa asked, wheeling about, her eyes sparkling with hope and joy. “They’re here!” she proclaimed, stepping aside with a sweeping motion, gesturing at the poster.
Roland realized it was the same poster they’d seen at Mount Fuarain, advertising the Catwood Company’s presentation of their newest show, “Great Feline Adventures.” There was just one very important difference from the one in Mount Fuarain.
There was no sign declaring the show as sold out. Tickets were still very much on sale — and the show was only in Thadheine for tonight.
“We can go, we can go!” Tsubasa said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “They’re still selling tickets, it’s the chance of a lifetime, we’ve gotta go!”
“But it’s in the evening,” Enrique said. “We have to get to the Loch and the Intersection. We’re leaving.”
“But, but, but!” Tsubasa cried, turning her pleading gaze on Roland.
Roland stared back at her, at those desperate eyes, at the hope and desire overflowing in her whole being…
And he smiled.
“Let’s get some tickets,” he said.
“But Roland!” Enrique said, turning on him.
“We don’t know what the Loch holds for us,” Roland said, “or where its clues may lead us. We may not get a chance like this again, so let’s enjoy tonight, and go to the Loch tomorrow.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” Erika said. “And I’m really curious about this show, too, if Tsubasa is so excited about it! Come on, Enrique!”
“I… suppose it’s okay,” Enrique said with a sigh. “But we go to Loch Reòsair tomorrow morning, then! No waiting until noon.”
“Absolutely!” Erika said.
“We’re… really going?” Tsubasa asked in a tiny voice, staring wide-eyed at Roland.
Roland chuckled. “Yes,” he said. “Come on, let’s go get some tickets.”
“Thank you!” Tsubasa cried, wrapping Roland up in a strong — a very strong — hug. Roland almost couldn’t breathe for a moment, and he was actually a bit relieved when Tsubasa finally let him go. “Thank you so much,” she continued, and Roland saw tears shining in her eyes. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t press. He just hugged her back, and then together they led the way to the theater’s box office, purchasing tickets for the night’s show.
“Great Feline Adventures, huh?” Tock asked, eyeing Maxwell.
“Stories are a curious thing,” Maxwell said, smiling. “Perhaps they have a magic that transcends worlds.”
“After everything we’ve seen, I’m inclined to believe you,” Tock said.
“What are you two talking about?” Erika asked.
“Aw, it’s nothing,” Tock said with a shrug. “Just thinking of home.”