Thirty Five
Umbra and Marin, the southern pass, The Rumble Mountains
The blizzard winds were picking up speed as Silvermane trotted down the snowy trail.
Now wrapped in thick furs, Marin and Umbra sat close together on horseback for warmth.
At last, they reached the Low Slope Inn and trading post- a haven for any travelers entering Rumble Mountains from the west.
A bearded old stable keeper almost completely enshrouded with thick fur clothes stood on the wooden porch of the log cabin. With a thick beard and his massive size, one could have mistaken him for a bear at first glance.
The cabin itself had seen many extensions over his long lifetime. A loft, with rooms added, a large brick chimney to heat the tavern inside and even a modest stable.
Marin dismounted and led Silvermane by the reins forth.
The stable keeper had a hard frigid face, and leathery skin from years of labor.
Before she could inquire, he cut in:
"Two silver to stable your house, two more and it gets a blanket," he recited from memory.
Umbra and Marin exchanged looks. "Of course, with a blanket, I don't want her to freeze," Marin insisted as she passed over the coins.
The man shrugged, "either way, no refunds."
Umbra raised an eyebrow. "Real charmer, this guy," he cracked.
The stable keeper sighed and held the door open for Umbra.
"This way, princess," he ushered them in sarcastically.
Umbra rolled his eyes.
Marin chuckled.
The interior of the inn resembled more a hunting lodge rather than a tavern. As the two travelers walked in, they got a sarcastic bow from the gruff stable keeper.
The wind slammed the door shut behind them alerting the innkeeper behind the dusty old counter.
His modest store consisted of a few shelves with the essentials: sacks of oats, wheels of preserved cheeses, furs, iron tools and others, technically just enough to be considered a store.
The innkeeper greeted them somewhat warmer than the stable keeper, apparently his brother.
"Greeting travelers. Trade? Room? Ale?" he inquired nonchalantly. He had a large scar on his check and a shaved head, with a menacing brow and tattoos peeking out from the edges of his hood. He tapped his tattooed fingers on the counter and waited.
Marin sighed in relief as she felt the warmth of the fireplace. "Room and pub, I guess."
"Four Silver."
Umbra looked at the tavern area next to the counter. Just a few barflies and a sleepy drunk draped over the bar.
The fireplace was cozy, but the tables were unwashed, littered with old steins and an unconscious drifter under one chair.
"Lively place," Umbra commented sporting a forced smile.
The innkeeper grunted. "Roads blocked, traders are rarer these days," he pointed at an ogre's head mounted on the wall behind him. "These buggers are chasing off my customers."
Marin could tell from the swollen bluish cheeks that the ogre had been strangled to death.
Judging by the muscles on the mountain of a man outside, or his equally intimidating brother, Marin suspected it was their kill.
"Did you strangle that thing?" Marin inquired meekly.
The innkeeper shook his head. "Local slayer did him in with a garrote, some red-haired lunatic she is."
Umbra projected his thoughts to Marin. It was Robyn, the one who attacked me in the wilds.
Marin's eyes widened.
The innkeeper dangled a room key in front of them. Then he pointed at a weapon rack by the door. "No weapons in here, no killing either," a fair rule considering the psychotic slayer living nearby.
After shelving their weapons, the innkeeper tossed Marin the key.
Umbra noticed a bulletin board with old papers nailed to it.
Bounties
He approached curiously.
'Wanted: Maleficae, alive or dead with proof. 100 gold, no negotiating.
-Tabernacle Inquisition'
Umbra gulped.
'Wanted: Vampires, proof of kill -Slayer's Guild of Snowdrift Village'
"Two organizations we don't want to cross," Marin fretted.
Umbra frowned recalling the obnoxious inquisitors in Myst City.
The drunk at the bar perked up. A ragged, scrawny excuse for a man. He squinted at Umbra curiously, followed by the weapons on the rack.
Umbra paused, a habit of any maleficae spotted in public.
But the drunk returned to his wooden plank of a pillow.
The innkeeper slammed his fist on the counter waking him again. "Lionel, either pay for a room or get the hell out, you vagrant!" the innkeeper's face was a bright crimson, his neck veiny.
Lionel staggered off and out the door into the storm outside.
"Freeloader," the innkeeper huffed.
Umbra and Marin tiptoed past the innkeeper and pulled up a chair by the fireplace, warming themselves by the roaring flames.
"We don't see many knights come this way," a burly waitress cooed as she delivered two steins.
She looked only slightly more appealing than the ogre hanging on the wall.
"Holler if ya thirsty," the barmaid winked at Umbra, turning his stomach.
Marin smirked as the lady left. "I think she likes you."
Umbra scoffed. "She's not my type, she isn't..." he trailed off.
"Blonde?" Marin blushed as she twirled a manicured finger in her golden locks.
Umbra didn't protest. "I thought I lost you back in Brie... I never stopped thinking about you... I..."
Umbra reached for her hand, their eyes meeting.
"Seeing you again after all these years living as a maleficae in the wilds... it was..." she started, lowering her voice to a whisper on the word 'maleficae'.
"Disappointing?"
"A relief," Marin smiled gripping his hand tighter.
While Umbra and Marin sat contently by the fireplace chatting away, Umbra couldn't help but here one of the rowdy patrons speaking loudly.
"Ya hear? the Crimson Hunter killed that entire coven of maleficae in their hideout near here?"
The other one gleamed, "Now that's one hell of a slayer. Is she married?"
The other almost choked on his drink. "You want to marry the slayer who skinned the alpha Amorok Wolf alive?"
The other patron hiccupped. "You're right she'd be too threatened by my manly physique," he flexed his old limp muscles.
"She'd string you up like a flag. Your balls would be on the wall over there next to the ogre," his two friends laughed hysterically, humbling the boastful drunk.
The drunk groaned. "How about a game of spades? Gold piece, a hand!" he held up a deck of playing cards, mismatched and stacked in his favor.
Umbra furrowed his brow; he was worried about Micah.
He felt guilty leaving his friend alone with his horrid old teacher. "In the swamps," he began.
Marin listened intently.
"I had a friend, Micah, a good friend. We kept each other sane at times, our old master was such a nightmare." Umbra sighed. "When that Witch turned me loose, I really thought Micah would leave with me..."
Marin cupped his hand. "Well, you aren't alone anymore."
Umbra was grateful for that, also jealous of Marin's mentor.
"How did you get so lucky to end up with Astralode as your teacher?" he inquired.
"Well after Brie burned and I had lost everything, I joined a band of refugees on their way to Myst City. I don't know what we were expecting, but we ended up living in the slums. I lived on the streets, penniless for months, constantly hounded by lowlifes or city guards," recalling the past was painful for her too.
"One day after I tried to perform a magic trick for a passing merchant for a silver piece, I was discovered. It's almost like Astralode could sense the magic I used. The next day he rescued me from the slums and even took me into his home."
"His weird, weird home," Umbra added, remembering the reality warped madness of Astralode's tower.
Marin smiled. "It was wonderful, like all the Gaelish Fae stories my grandmother told me in my youth. Paper butlers, my own room, personal tutoring from Astralode himself. I was almost afraid I would wake up again in the slums to find it was a vivid dream. He was like the father and teacher I needed," she smiled softly.
"And he saw such huge potential in me, taught me everything he could manage and even got me knighted! Me, a refugee from the slums!" Marin recalled Astralode warmly, he truly turned her life around.
A light peered through the largest pocket on Marin's saddlebag resting on the floor.
Umbra was at a loss. "What is that?"
Marin extracted a crystal sphere washed in gold light. "It's called a scrying orb," she held it in front of Umbra. "Let me show you how it works."
Marin took Umbra's finger gently and traced a symbol on the orb.
Suddenly there he was in the orb, The Chronicler, Astralode peering back at them. He was sitting at a table covered in scattered scrolls.
"Marin, Umbra! Great to see you!" he beamed
"I just wanted to check in, I heard a lot of the roads in Rumble Mountains were blocked by an avalanche. Are you safe?"
Marin smiled. "Yes, we are at the Low Slope Inn," she handed the orb to Umbra as he held it awkwardly.
"And you, my boy, how are you? Did you get a chance to test your new powers?" Astralode inquired partially out of curiosity but mainly out of concern.
The affection was foreign and uncomfortable to Umbra, he had spent years of neglect and verbal abuse with Lady Crow after all.
"We cleaned out a den of goblins on the Kingsbridge, their ogre boss too."
"You aren't injured I hope," Astralode pried.
Umbra shook his head. "We are safe."
Astralode smiled, nodded and the orb became inert and transparent.
The two were too tired to drink and decided on an early night, they had a lot of traveling ahead and the roads were snowed in.
Later Upstairs...
As Marin turned the rusted old key into the door of their room, she was relieved to see a useable bed, no better than the cot in a prison cell. There was a modest fireplace, unlit and a glass window overlooking an ocean of white snow outside.
Umbra had already kicked his boots off, his feet were sore and his toes almost blue. Accustomed to living like a vagrant, he tossed his furs to the floor and rolled up his tunic, remembering where he was, he paused.
He glanced over at Marin who leaned against the door with a cheeky smile on her face.
"I didn't say stop," she beckoned as she strutted slowly towards him, her lean, feminine figure swaying with every soft step.
She has truly grown into a stunning woman.
Umbra realized now they were truly alone. He had always loved her for as long as he could remember, but now it was as if he was rediscovering her beauty.
Umbra clumsily disrobed in front of her, nothing to hide.
He wanted to share everything he had with her.
Marin sized him up, with a satisfied grin she bit her lower lip and began to unravel the layers of her dress like she was unwrapping a gift from him.
But this was a gift she wanted to share with him, a gift she always intended to share with him.
She could think of no other.
Umbra stood up; his weary view met her glistening sapphire eyes.
Her robe dropped to her feet and she pulled him in close for a kiss, the one thing she had wanted from him when they reconnected.
Marin let down her long blonde hair, letting Umbra sweep it away from her face.
When their lips touched all the troubles of the world faded away in an instant and they were just two young lovers.
Not knights on a quest or heroes of Myst City, just two young lovers in each other's arms.