Magika [Completed]

Chapter 18

Think of your morals as your cloak of honour, Aldeheid. If you're not proud to wear it, then perhaps you need to reevaluate yourself. Those were some of the many wise words Aldeheid remembered from his master.

And when they'd returned to earth, he found himself pondering them. They'd been riding alongside a river since they'd passed through the thin space, its gurgling the only thing fillinf the silence. Night was about to fall, but it didn't look like they were stopping to make camp anytime soon. Kitaya had mentioned something about a village further down the river and he guessed they would ride until they got there.

And since the quiet of the night loaned him no distraction, he found himself getting lost in his own mind. Thinking of the Bastion, and his training there with his mentor.

Many days Mellidius preached of honour, and with good reason. T'was and admirable quality, doing what was right, but there was one problem with it. The definition of right.

Aldeheid wanted himself a man of honour, but because of his past transgressions, his mind rejected the thought. Honourable magicians didn't kill capes. They bore them on their shoulders and wore them with pride.

"Mellidius was always trying to shove his pseudo intellectualism down everyone's throats. Good and evil, right and wrong. Those things are subjective, and their definitions can change subtly or drastically depending on who you ask."

That was Kitaya's take on it when he asked her. He found some of her actions and viewpoints on the eccentric side, and wondered what kind of life she'd lived to have shaped her so. She seemed so drastically different from Mellidius.

"It sounds as though you're not too fond of him," Aldeheid said.

Kitaya shrugged and twirled her spear over her hand. "For all his faults, Mellidius is a good magician, and an excellent diplomat. But we had our disagreements. He found me too reckless and stubborn. I found him too prudent and docile."

"I can't exactly... disagree with the reckless bit."

"I didn't expect you to. Other people see it as me being reckless. But I trust my gut and it hasn't led me wrong yet."

Aldeheid eyed her spear. The glowing red lines in its blade seemed to pulse in time to her swings. "How did you manage to get your hands on such a weapon?"

"I beat the life out of your beloved mentor for the right to wield it." She waved the spear at him and grinned.

His eyebrows shot up. "Truly?"

"Truly. It only took me about a hundred tries." She frowned thoughtfully. "And I damn near died, but a win is a win."

Aldeheid could imagine her rubbing that win in Mellidius' face. She seemed like the type.

"It's called the Behemoth," she explained. "The spear that pierces the skies of Magika. T'was the weapon of Kon's third ruler. Now it belongs to the people of Kon, and I am its wielder."

"It sounds like quite the prestigious honour."

"I suppose." She paused to jump off her horse and walk alongside it. "We'll have to slow down, angel eyes. I feel a bit of saddle sore coming on."

He smiled down at her, one eyebrow raised. "Were you my cape, you could ride upon my shoulders. You'd need not worry about saddle sore."

She snorted. "If I were your cape, I'd be dead, angel eyes."

Aldeheid flinched at the bite of her words. "That was low, even for you, kitten." There was more of an edge to his voice than he intended. And by the snide smile gracing her face, she knew she'd gotten under his skin.