Peridot Rymes Chapter 7

The swirling shades of blue in gray were not so disorienting this time. Peridot had been a bit hesitant to step into the violet haze of the portal’s mouth. It was, after all, her first trip through portal space since her initial arrival and she was unsure what to expect. She was not experiencing the dizziness of her previous experience. Still, she was a bit surprised when the blue to purple fog of the portals aftermath cleared so quickly leaving her feet first on the ground of her destination.

As she became aware of her new surroundings she realized there was a commotion nearby. The landing sat in its own hallway neatly tucked around the corner from the main corridor so she couldn’t see where the noise was originating. The escalation of the voices told her something was amiss. Suddenly the smell of smoke reached her nose as she eased down the hall to take a peak. Not the sweet aroma of pleasantry like cedar or pine in the fireplace or grill. No, it was that bitter smell, like a fire in the neighborhood.

There were people running in every direction. Some were carrying buckets of water. Others brandished weapons. It was impossible to discern who was new and who training staff. She was relatively sure that anyone wearing balloon bell bottom pants was part of the personnel assigned to integrate newcomers into the world. It had appeared so since she had been here. This was the first time since she arrived that she had seen anyone in anything but different hued stuck-in-the-sixties type big bell pants. She had sworn off wearing them herself in fear of her “junk in the trunk” appearing overloaded.

In a room off the main corridor she could see explosive light. The only thing more alarming was the boom-crackle-flash sounds that seemed to emanate from the same direction. She suspected the smoke to be coming from that general direction.

“Ah, there you are.” A deep husky voice rasped from behind her in a menacing whisper that made her skin stand on edge.

“What...who are you?”

Peridot tried to remain calm as she whirled to see the black mass of almost transparent smoke hovering behind her. She thought that perhaps it was one of the shadow species she had seen on her computer screen before this place was real. It was hard to be sure as things could not possibly look anything but similar to things familiar in this reality. A few weeks ago, these were just graphics whirling through cyberspace. Today they were a bit up close and personal.

The shadowy form replied, “I have come to see to it you arrive at the proper location, out of reach of these who would brainwash you away from my master’s purpose.”

She saw the creature mimic the wind up that had become familiar to her through her own magical studies and quickly leapt to the side as a yellow spell was hurled in her direction. She wasn’t sure which spell it was, but she assumed it was some sort of stun or incapacitation. The explanation itself was indicative that it was not intended for her to die… yet.

As she dove toward the ground prepared to roll away, she hoped she would be in position to dash around the end of the corridor out into the main hall. Perhaps she would be able to find her way to safety if she could just get out of this creatures line of site. She was certainly grateful for the continued patience of her former trainer who forced her to begin to overcome her limited strength and agility. As she felt her shoulder touch the ground, she simultaneously felt a grasp around her waist. She was growing less and less fond of surprises and began to try to struggle to free herself.

The robed figure behind her proved to be too strong for her efforts to be successful, but he softly spoke in her ear,

“Nothing to fear, I will take you from harms way.”

“How do I know you are any different from the other?”

“I serve Lord Asheron.”

With his abrupt reply, he spoke no more. She felt a hand touch the back of her head gently and the world went black.

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Ynarre’s dark blue eyes squinted against the dark as she roused herself from bed and peered out the window downstairs. A familiar hooded figure was pounding on her door. She knew that Asheron never showed up these days unless it was truly important. In the old days he would stop by for a casual visit, but with all the happenings of late, he had been far to busy to make his presence known in Rithwic.

She lit a candlestick find her way lest she tumble down the stairs trying to hurry to unlock the door. A night like this longed for the silver glow of the twin moons. The shadows danced against the wood paneling along the stairwell wall as she made her way to greet her visitor. Asheron slipped in past her carrying someone in his arms.

“This one needs a safe place,” were his only words as he headed up the stairs.

Ynarre kept an extra room ready upstairs for times such as this. Often, the guards would bring someone to her in need of a room and a place to safely adjust to life in Dereth. Rarely was the request directly from Asheron though. She had to wonder why this was a special case, but when she tried to inquire, he held up a hand for silence.

“It would not do for you to know the circumstance in its entirety. It would only put you in grave danger. The Academies are under attack by forces that are as adept on the thought plane as they are on the ground. The less you know the better. You are to help her assimilate into the normal population so that she is not a target of dark forces before she has become powerful enough to serve her higher purpose.”

With that his robes swirled around him as he vanished from where he stood. Ynarre hated when he did that. No one should be able to just turn to thin air at a moment’s whim. Then again, Asheron wasn’t just anyone, so, with a sigh, she just locked up and went back upstairs. At this point, sleep was out of the question. Still, she wanted to keep the store quiet and dark so that it would not be suspect to the town criers. Goodness knows they always talked too much.

Ynarre had lived in Rithwic as long as she could remember. Her late grandfather took her in after her parents fell in their gallant fight to save the town from some of the early olthoi invasions. He established himself as town grocer when the town sprung up in the early days of freedom from the enslavement by those horrid bug like creatures. She hated that she ended up having to run the store without him. She missed him desperately, but she was glad that he had been able to live out his old age in peace and prosperity.

Lying on her bed, she glanced toward the doorway of the room the young girl slept in. She could hear the even breathing of a person sound asleep. She still had to wonder what was so special about this one that Asheron himself would deliver her to the door, but at the same time, it didn’t really make much difference. She would treat this one like all those that came before. She would do the best she could to teach her to blend into Derethian society so as not to attract added attention to herself. Remembering Asheron’s warnings, she knew that keeping a low profile would be key to her new ward’s survival.

Her mind turned to the plight of the training halls. It must have been a severe attack judging from Asheron’s words. Nevertheless, she assured herself that the Academy was strong and would fend for itself no matter the circumstance. It was doubtful that they would be overcome by any attack permanently. Dereth had always been a world of rebuilding and the Academy did it better than anyone else on the planet.

After what seemed like hours of meandering thought, Ynarre rose to go downstairs for the day. She made her small single bed and washed up before proceeding down the steps. Tying her chestnut hair back behind her shoulders, she gathered some ingredients for today’s selection of freshly baked breads. The villagers loved to stop by her store to purchase various breads for their own home cooked meals. It was her specialty. A talent inherited from her grandfather.

He had been a simple man with a simple way for doing most things. Right down to the name he gave this shop. Other shops in town were labeled things like “Lady of Blades” or “The Guilded Tome”. Grandpa had simply hung a sign outside the door that simply sported the word “Grocer”. It said what it meant and meant what it said. She had carried the tradition with her even while others encouraged her to come up with something that would capture attention and earn her more business.

In Ynarre’s opinion, if you needed some catchy phrase to sell your goods, then your goods just were not all that good in the first place. She smiled a bit at herself and sang under her breath,

“Your goods are not that good, not that good, not that good.” A songstress, she was not, but she could do as she pleased before customers were awake and within hearing distance.

Her thoughts were interrupted by sounds upstairs. Realizing that her new guest was waking and probably a bit out of sorts she placed the newly baked goods on a table and went up to check on her. Peridot sat on the edge of the bed looking a bit bewildered.

“Where am I?” She stammered.

“You are in Rithwic. Have you heard of it?” Ynarre asked knowing that the answer would tell her whether or not this one came from that place so many of the recent arrivals referred to as “Earth”, “The Real World”, or “Reality”.

“Yes, I have.” Peridot responded.

“Good, it will be much easier for you to blend in around here then.”

Ynarre saw the young woman’s expression of curiosity and began to explain what she could before Peridot had a chance to fire off the barrage of questions filling her mind.

“You are obviously one of the new arrivals from a world we were not familiar with previously. The details of your journey are unclear to me, but one thing is certain. You are here. You were delivered to my doorstep by Lord Asheron himself. I do not know why you or why here. All I know is that you are here as a result of some special circumstance and you are to be protected so that dark forces cannot find you. The best way for you to do that is to become a regular citizen of Rithwic while you learn to fend for yourself.”

Peridot harbored no doubt in the words she was hearing. The dark being that approached her in that corridor seemed to have her picked out specifically. He didn’t seem to be just doing a general round up of new recruits. She wasn’t sure whether it was indeed Asheron who brought her here, but her speedy transport and sound sleep could certainly be explained by it.

“You are Ynarre, right, the grocer in Rithwic? I have visited here so many times! Is the portal to Martine’s Retreat still in the center of town?”

She spent an eternity in this town during her early gaming days. She had visited each shopkeeper in town, fished in the river by the docks, and fought in the dungeons nearby multiples of times. A wave of relief washed over her with her realization supported by Ynarre’s reluctant nod.

Mouth just a bit agape, Ynarre felt a touch of familiarity in this girl, but she shook it off as being part of Peridot’s contagious enthusiasm. She had never seen this young woman before in her life, but she still felt compelled to share the excitement experienced by her guest.

“Good, you are remembering.” Ynarre played along.

Motioning Peridot downstairs, she continued, “Come, eat.”

Leading her new ward downstairs, Ynarre arranged a plate of food and sat it on the dark wooden table before her.

“Here, eat.”

Peridot couldn’t help but pick up a plate with such eye appeal. Obviously, Ynarre knew her way around the kitchen even though she primarily dealt in raw food and utensils. A plate filled with fresh grapes, slices apples, pasta, and soup was topped with 2 thick soft slices of warm bread from a loaf just pulled from the fire.

“Tempting indeed, thank you.” This was all she could mutter before she began to eat.

As hunger subsided she was a bit more composed. The familiarity of her surroundings was subduing the feeling of impending doom. There was much mystery still to be solved, Kyle to be found, and the portal back home found, but it was comforting to simply know that there were some things that didn’t change. Some things could still be depended on.

“Is there someway I can repay you for your kindness?”

“Well, you can wash that plate to start.”

Ynarre spoke with a smile in her voice as the two women enjoyed a light moment of brief laughter. Peridot couldn’t help but notice that her host had a very pleasant disposition. In this game gone real, she was sure that it would make her life a little easier to digest and survive. She knew that at some point she might have to move on, but for now she was just happy to have found a friend that had a sense of humor.

Well, that and lots of food. A person could nearly never go wrong having lots of food on hand. If you had edibles, you could trade them for almost anything in any world, real or imagined.

It seemed she had been delivered to the best place possible given the odd set of circumstance. She was really uneasy with the, “Asheron says your special” theory shared with her by Ynarre. This alone made her all the more determined to incorporate herself into Derethian society so as to remain completely anonymous. She had no desire to be found by any more dark cloud creatures throwing fire or goodness knows what else.

She settled in helping Ynarre with her daily chores and changing the subject when the customers inquired too much about her. Ynarre introduced her as the new grocer’s apprentice hired to help serve a growing public. Peridot kept her hair wrapped in a scarf to keep its red luster from showing. The less people knew the better.

Ynarre had already promised her a lesson in hair dying after they were finished with the breakfast crowd. A lover of cosmetics, Peridot was looking forward to a task resembling normalcy. Out of fear of some bizarre result, hair color was one thing she had never tried. She was a bit apprehensive, but at the same time, relieved that there were similar customs being carried out by women in Dereth. She knew there were tailors that sold fashionable items, but she had never considered the dye plants found about the countryside to be as good for hair as they were for clothes.

“Shall I give them my name?”

“Not your given name.”

“What shall I have them call me then?”

“Let them call you what they will. People around here have a way of naming everyone and everything. The one that fits you best will come in time. Most will only ask how you got here. To them, simply answer, “South.”

She could do that. She was, after all, from Texas and considered from the south in her former reality.

The morning folk were an odd assortment of hunters, cooks, and various townsfolk. Some were on their way home from night fishing; others were just heading out for a days work. Some were just hungry for both food and gossip of the moment. They were much like an earthly convenience store crowd in a small town. Everyone met up, chatted a bit about the latest town crier announcements or rumors going around the pub across the bridge. There were fish stories that grew with each telling whether they involved fish or not. Some had that special sort of tabloid, “Who’s doing who” feel to them.

This made it even easier to keep the questions she was required to answer to a superficial hum.

“After all, people love to talk about themselves. It is second only to talking about others.” Her inaudible mind voice quipped.

A simple nod in any direction could have a person completely refocused. Instead of asking her about herself they were soon telling her the latest scoop on the person who was unfortunate enough to be positioned in the general direction of the nod. She just had to smile and listen most of the time.

She had cleanup completed by the time the last customer closed the door behind him. It was still early so she followed Ynarre to the corner table readied for the dying process.

Peridot laughed as she removed the scarf allowing her auburn locks to tumble.

“Let the dyeing begin.”