Blood of the Sea, Chapter Fourty-Seven

Chapter 47: Felicitous

Astrophel

Finding Sulien bleeding from claw marks in his hands and bloody hand prints atop five new, shining breastplates was not how Astrophel thought the morning was going to start, but then again, it is how the morning started.

Nox waved them off, their voice hushed as they crouched next to Sulien, the summoner’s hands already wrapped in cloth that was slowly turning brownish in color, clasped in Nox’s own hands. “I’ve got this. He just needs to sleep it off.”

“Where did he even get this metal?” Dionne hisses, picking up a breastplate with wispy lines worked into the metal, almost like waves. Here and there the waves actually rise up out of the metal, giving the breastplate ridges and ripples. She raps her fist against it, and the metal holds up.

Ast holds his hand over the top of a breastplate with a single star emblazoned squarely on the chest. The metal may like any other well crafted piece of blacksmithing - beautiful, unique - but it feels different. His magic wants to touch, to interact, but at the same time, a piece of him doesn’t want to. It feels as though it was meant for something or someone else, despite Sul’s handiwork to prove otherwise. Each breastplate was crafted for the five of them, individually. But where did it come from?

“Astrophel,” Seri calls for him, bounding over to his side. “We should really be going. It’ll take three days - if we push the J’korun - for us to get to Kildangan from here.”

Astrophel casts a final glance to Sulien, his complexion unnaturally pale, his breathing shallow. Astrophel’s brow furrows with concern clawing its way into his mouth. Nox nods to him as his mouth opens, and he closes it again, nodding back. They know what they’re doing. I’m sure it’ll be fine. As Astrophel watches, Nox unwraps Sulien’s hands, the claw marks no longer there on his palms. When he checks Sul’s face, the bags under his eyes are softening. Astrophel frowns, “Magic?”

Nox shrugs, “I guess so. I’m working on reversing it though.”

“Reversing it?”

Nox shakes their head, “Well, more like blocking it.” They glance toward Seri who shifts her weight from one leg to the other in Astrophel’s periphery. “You should get going. She’s right.”

“Fine, fine. I leave camp in your capable hands,” Astrophel holds his own hands up in surrender, straightening as he tucks the star-bound breastplate under his arm. Khalil sets aside Sulien’s and Nox’s and takes up his own - a mostly blank piece of armor, though atop the shoulders are imitations of fletching. Astrophel smiles to himself. Sulien made sure everyone’s breastplate was stylized in accordance with the wearer.

Seri leads the way to the J’korun where they’ve been let loose to wander in the field spilling out and away from the construction site. As they approach, a couple of the creatures are standing, keeping a watchful eye out towards the horizon, while the rest are crouched around a carcass of… something. Something no longer distinguishable, anyway, beyond the ribs poking out of a heavy-set spine. The feasting J’korun are cleaning the meat from the bones and the blood from their forepaws, but Astrophel’s gray-blue J’korun glances up at their approach, taking a moment to stretch when the creature climbs to his feet.

Approaching the J’korun, they each greet their mount. Tore lowers his head, letting Astrophel grab a handful of mane as he leaps upon the J’korun’s back, scrambling a little while Tore’s muzzle bumps against his thigh, trying to help in his own way. Glancing over, Dionne leans forward, clinging to Skai as the tan J’korun climbs to her feet. Seri, also astride her piebald J’korun, raises her hand, nodding when she sees Astrophel, Dionne, and Khalil settled on their mounts. Khalil steers his black J’korun alongside Tore; the two creatures nipping at each other without making contact. Astrophel shakes his head at his friend’s antics.

Seri’s mouth opens, but whatever she says is overshadowed by an airy shriek. Gaze turned skyward, his brows furrowed against the bright sunlight but also in confusion as he spots a smaller, lithe creature circling overhead. Seri raises her voice, “That’s a laewk. They are deeply respected here as hunters and as companions. It is widely seen as a great honor and a sign of power if someone is chosen by a laewk.”

The creature circles once, twice, overhead before swooping down toward Seri’s piebald J’korun. The J’korun’s ears flick back at the laewk’s approach, and the smaller creature wheels through the air, diverting to Skai’s back. Landing on the tan J’korun, the laewk appears to have a soft mist-gray body which darkens at the roots of its blue-black wings, while the feathers themselves lighten toward the tips with flecks of white. Dark, intelligent eyes peer at Astrophel from Skai’s back. The laewk chirps and bounds from Skai’s rump to Tore’s, landing behind Astrophel, causing him to twist in his seat to appreciate the little creature.

“Hello, friend,” Astrophel says to it, holding out a hand slowly. The laewk sniffs at his hand, purring and butting its head against his fingers. He scratches behind its ears and the laewk leans into his touch, arching its head and shoulders as it rubs against him. Astrophel smiles and asks Seri, “What do people do with them?”

“They’re rather independent, so it often comes down to what the laewk wants to do with the person has chosen.”

“Chosen?” Astrophel turns away from the laewk, the phrasing surprising him. “Like, what, with the J’korun? Ow!” He yanks his hand away, examining it for injury after feeling a sharp, stabbing pain in the base of his thumb by his wrist.

Seri shakes her head ruefully. “Chosen. Usually by bite or claw mark.”

Astrophel gives the laewk an incredulous look, while it looks pleased with itself, even going so far as to spin around on Tore’s rump, fluffing its feathers. “You chose me by biting me?”

“It happens. The wound always closes quickly, so there’s no need to worry about infection. They’re loyal to a fault and can feel your emotions,” Seri’s voice filters over to him and grows louder as she urges her J’korun over.

Khalil laughs, “Of course the weird bird picks you.” He punches Astrophel’s shoulder lightly and Astrophel swats at him, rolling his eyes.

“Seri said it’s an honor,” Astrophel responds. Studying the laewk, he holds his hand out again. The creature leaps at him, taking him by surprise, but it only lands on his shoulder, leaning against his head. The purrs rumble through his skull, though it weighs more than he would have expected. He scratches under its chin, feeling the ghost of claws digging into his shoulder, but the pain never comes.

Dionne laughs at Astrophel’s expression, “I suppose you’re chosen then, whatever that means.”

“It means they’re here to stay,” Astrophel jokes back. “Either way, we should ride.”

“Of course,” Seri replies easily. Her gaze lingers on the laewk for a few moments longer, something indecipherable in her eyes, before she clears her throat and turns her piebald J’korun toward the deeper parts of the woods. “Let’s go then.”

With a little more encouragement, the four of them race away toward the port city of Kildangan. As their pace picks up, the laewk now accompanying them shrieks and leaps into the air, flying along overhead as Tore kicks his hind legs and tears across the earth. Astrophel’s heart sings; the feel of the wind in his hair almost resembles the drag of his hair in the ocean current, cheek pressed to Iska’s neck. The green of the forest blurs by, Tore leaping gracefully over downed trees and rocks in their path. It isn’t flying - not by a long shot - but Astrophel feels lighter than he has in weeks.