Feral Mage Book 2: Chapter 11

Bryce and Janna walked beside the stone walls of the town as they made their way to the temple. The bartender told them that following the wall heading east was the easiest way to find it. Sure enough, they spotted a stone building built up against the wall with a belfry that marked it as a temple.

“Did he say what god or goddess the priestess worshiped?” Janna asked.

Bryce shook his head.

“No, just that she was who the town’s folk used as a healer,” Bryce answered. “Though given our location, I would say one associated with swamps.”

The kitsune’s brows furrowed in thought as one of her ears went flat while the other stayed up.

“Why do you think that?” Janna asked after a moment.

Her ear shot up to join the other one when she caught him staring at it.

“We’re in the wetlands right now. The priestess of a temple will always be a worshiper of whatever god or goddess attributes reflect the area. Priestesses of war deities could be found at temples near ancient battlefields, and priestesses who worshiped the divine associated with harvest could be found near farmlands.”

Janna nodded slowly.

“Because her magic is stronger there?”

Bryce smirked.

“I’m sure that’s what a priestess or priest would say, but it’s just because the donations are better. A merchant is likely to throw a few coins to a shrine associated with safe travel over water in an area like this, and the priestess gets a bigger cut from the donation since it’s the divine they worship.”

Janna gave him an unsure look, even her ear tried to flick back down as she thought about what he said, though she caught it before making the cute pose again.

“A priest confessed it to me over some tankards of ale,” Bryce confirmed. “I was quizzing him about the difference in how he and clerics used faith magic. He tried to lead me around on the subject, but finally relented and told me the truth.”

Janna smirked at him.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to get a priest drunk. Isn’t that a sin or something?”

Bryce shrugged as he felt four tails brush against his arms and back.

“He was a priest for a Harvest Goddess, so I think he gets a pass. Beer is made with grain after all.”

They dropped the topic as they neared the door of the temple, and Bryce stepped forward to open it. Small wisps of smoke greeted them, as did the heavy smell of incense. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the room, but he soon saw a large room with dozens of candles lit along each wall, one each in front of a small shrine dedicated to a god or goddess. Pews filled the rest of the room, and standing in the aisle between them was an old woman in a brown robe.

“Welcome to the temple, my children,” the old woman said with a bow. “Are you here to seek the blessing of the divine in your union?”

Janna and Bryce froze in their approach. He was about to clear things up when he noticed the sly smirk on the woman’s face. The old bat was messing with them.

“No, no, we’re here…”

The old priestess cut off Janna.

“Oh! Silly me, you’re with child and wish for a blessing?”

Janna made a croaking sound, glanced at Bryce, and her tails came up to hide her face. Though not fast enough for Bryce and the old woman to miss how red her face had turned. Laughter erupted from the old priestess.

“Forgive me, dear,” the old woman said once she calmed. “A young woman entering a temple with a man leads to a lot of speculations. I couldn’t help but tease you both.”

The old priestess waved for them to follow her as she moved to a small side door in the open room.

“I can see the bandages on your hands as clear as day. Follow me, and we’ll take a look at them.”

Janna’s tails parted from her face just enough for her to peek out at Bryce, then slowly the tails moved away, and she cleared her throat.

“It wasn’t very funny… Bryce is my master, he’s training me to be a mercenary,” Janna stated quickly, her face bright red.

The woman stopped and grinned at Janna.

“Ah! Such a thrilling life, you two must walk the line of life and death together. Never would such feelings bloom in such a situation. Never!” the old priestess laughed again as she stepped into the small room.

Bryce heard Janna growl as she moved to the door. Bryce followed her, dodging one of her tails lashing about in agitation.

The small room had two chairs in the center, and shelves lined the walls, filled with labeled wooden boxes. The strong scent of herbs replaced the smell of incense as Bryce entered. The old woman gestured to one of the chairs before taking the other one.

“Now, dear, given your profession, I’m guessing you didn’t injure yourself making a meal for the young man behind you.”

Janna took the seat and glared at the old woman.

“It was backlash from a spell,” she answered.

The old woman nodded in understanding.

“Then you must tell me how you became injured in detail. Even your emotions at the time. Don’t skip on the details, something that’s minor to you could be vital to your recovery.”

Janna bit her lip as she gave a side glance at Bryce.

“I’ll step out and let you two talk,” Bryce said, moving to the door. “I’m probably due to pay my respects to the divine anyway.”

He closed the door and moved toward the small shrines with the candles in front of them. Many of the deities he recognized, but a few were unfamiliar to him. Most likely minor or regional deities to the Kingdom of Brook. That was one of the things he had learned when Bellamy brought him out of the farmlands of the Kingdom of Havenport. The divine he held in high esteem were minor or unknown outside of the small farming community in which he grew up.

His eyes landed on the shrine to a goddess of harvest. He was sure her name was different in the Kingdom of Brook, but her statue was the same as the one he had prayed to all those years ago. During the drought when a silver was needed to buy even a loaf of stale bread, every copper he had was donated to the goddess, along with prayers for rain.

His grandfather died first when the orchard started to fail. The old man said he was going hunting and wandered into the woods. Days later, Bryce found his corpse hanging from a tree, and he knew the old man had killed himself, so there would be one less mouth to feed.

They scrounged what they could from the orchard, tried to barter the fruits for grain and flour, something that would last longer. Then the taxman came and took a portion of what little harvest they had. His father tried to protest, but the taxman said the Baron would have his due since the land was his.

Bryce’s siblings were next. His sister caught a fever and wasn’t strong enough to survive. Days later, his little brother was beaten to death over a loaf of bread by someone in the village, though Bryce never learned who. When they received the news of his death, Bryce’s mother stopped eating after that and let herself waste away. The morning they found her dead, his father consumed what little cider they had left and ventured into the village in a drunken stupor to find the murderer. The Baron’s soldiers killed him, stripped his corpse, and tied it to a tree in mockery.

Bryce tightened his fist in anger as he stared at the shrine of the Goddess of Harvest.

You expect me to take you as a pupil for an apple?

The memory of Bellamy’s voice came to mind, and the anger faded. He recalled the day she said that to him. A dark-haired woman, only a little older than himself, with piercing eyes, wearing leather armor and a sword. He had just watched her kill the three men who were trying to rob him. She tore through them as if they were nothing, claws and wings appearing on her body. She was beautiful…

Bryce shook his head, driving the memory away, and moved from the shrine. The Goddess of the Harvest had taken enough coin from him for a lifetime. Instead, he found a quiet place on the pews to sit down, pulling a knife from his belt to clean his nails while waiting for Janna. He cleaned his nails and paced the length of the aisle a few times before the door opened and the old priestess stepped out with Janna. He could tell the news wasn’t good by the dejected look on Janna’s face.

“I couldn’t heal her,” the priestess said as they approached him. “There’s still residual fire magic in her hands, dormant, but there. It will need to be pulled out before faith or any other healing magic can be used.”

Janna gave him a small smile, which he could tell was forced, and did nothing to hide the turmoil of emotions running through her.

“How do we pull it out? Safely?” Bryce asked.

The old priestess thought for a moment.

“Empty mana crystals could draw it out safely. They would need to be in contact with her hands or near them for a prolonged period of time,” the priestess answered. “Her burns will heal naturally, but the foreign magic will prevent her use of pyromancy.”

Bryce saw Janna grimace at those words, but he was just relieved to know she would recover.

“The morning market will have empty mana crystals, though not as cheap as you would find in the cities.” The priestess said. “I’m sorry there’s not more I can do.”

Bryce pulled out three silver coins and held them out to her.

“Thank you,” he said.

The priestess hesitated a moment before taking them.

“Such a generous donation,” she said.

Bryce fought a smirk at that. He was sure the priestess deity would tell her to have a very nice meal tonight with said donation.

Once they left the temple, he could see Janna was still sullen.

“Let’s check out the market tomorrow morning,” Bryce suggested to her as they walked. “We can get some mana crystals and supplies.”

Janna gave a slow nod, her eyes on her bandaged hands.

“You’re feeling useless right now. Probably think how much of a burden you’ll be on the road,” Bryce said, looking at Janna. “I know that feeling. I felt it with my master when I broke my leg. You know what she said to me?”

Janna looked up at him, the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

“She said for me to stop bitching or she’d break my jaw as well,” Bryce said with a laugh. “Janna, we’re a team. We help each other out when we’re strong and more so when one of us is weak. You’re not a burden and never will be.”

He saw the hint of a smile before she lifted her sleeve to dry her eye.

“How did you break your leg?” she asked.

Bryce sighed.

“Being stupid. Bellamy and I were hunting a serpent leviathan in a marsh. She thought it would be a good second aspect for me. Well, during the fight, I was struck by the scaly bastard’s tail. The blow threw me against a tree, broke my leg, and knocked me unconscious. I missed taking the aspect because of that.”

“Bellamy was your master, right?” Janna asked. “You don’t talk much about her.”

Bryce nodded.

“We had a falling out,” he answered.

The two of them walked together in silence back toward the tavern. No doubt Vex would be getting anxious waiting for their return, or at least that’s what Bryce thought. When they neared the tavern, Bryce spotted Vex sitting on the ground holding Omelet in her lap. Several other people sat around her, mostly children, as they watched a puppet show being performed.

The green puppet smacked the red one with a club in the slapstick act the puppeteer was putting on. Bryce smiled as he saw Vex’s tail wag, and the wolfkin let out a laugh.

“Well, shall we join Vex and Omelet?” Bryce asked Janna.

He saw her smile, one of the few he had seen since her accident with the fireball. Both of them moved to join Vex, the wolf girl turning to face them as they sat down beside her.

“The sock people are funny!” Vex told Bryce as she leaned against him.

She released Omelet, who moved over to curl up in Janna’s lap, the kitsune petting the little griffin.

The three of them burst out into laughter as the red puppet got his revenge against the green puppet with a frying pan. Bryce felt the tails brushing against his back and knew the girls were happy.