The Other Witch; The Feast Hall of Emperor Gastron IV

Despite his Father's insistence, Prince Curt had invited the entire party to a feast in the palace.  Something about, a soothing bath and a softer bed than that of any starship, as befit such noble guests.  He hadn't taken his eyes off her the whole time he'd spoken, and it would have taken quite the spell to have convinced Salvia that he'd been thinking of anyone but her when he spoke of the luxuries that would be available to them.  She'd never been much for luxuries, not that she'd ever had the option, but after soaking in the fresh, enchantingly warm waters of the spring that bubbled up out in the gardens, specially piped in to enrich and fortify the travelers with the strength they would surely need for the coming battle, she couldn't help but feel like she could get used to it.  

They called it the Spring of the Maiden, one of a scant few sources of pure water on all the swampy world that had birthed the Nieldic race.  The Witches had said that it was home to the last of the nature spirits of the world, a truly ancient entity indeed.  Being the case, for Witches rarely told such stories idly, Salvia made sure to perform the proper rituals before setting so much as a hair in the water.  

Father Krell had told her another story, one he said had been taught to him by a member of the Imperial Family he'd met once.  He had called it 'the Font of Zink', and said that soaking in its waters enhanced the natural magical power of a mage.  But once, long ago, a young Empress had taken her bath in it and it granted the child she bore power unlike any of her age.  But that child had turned her power towards domination, and in the end claimed to be Death Incarnate.  

"Of course, it's not quite as effective once its come through the pipes, but natural magics like these have a particular tendency to work in exactly the manner they wish to, and rarely in the one we would choose."  

At dinner, a magnificent, lavish affair that used the feast hall of Emperor Gastron the fourth, who was known for his feasting but had actually been a highly competent Emperor and by all means a likable fellow, the prince had chosen, to Salvia's delight, to sit between her and Hack.  Ostensibly, this was so that he and Hack could discuss details further, and from the increasingly frustrated look on Hack's face, at least one of the three of them had failed to notice the word 'ostensibly'.  "But nevertheless, there hasn't been a child born in the palace without at least slight magical prowess since the Frostbourne war.  The Guards still use the spring itself for their rites and rituals, but then they are an order as much steeped in tradition as your own."

"You seem quite familiar with the lore of the palace and its grounds, as well as that of the guards.  Please tell me you make it outside of the Library from time to time?"

"I'm a bit hurt."  the prince jested.  "You really haven't seen the newsreels from Mejji yet?"  

She had seen them, of course, typical sort of propaganda.  Nieldic propaganda tended to be more honest than most, simply on account of the fact that neither the people paying for it nor those watching it were at any point fooled into thinking it was anything but the truth they wanted you to hear.  So at a certain point the media had just started telling the truth, steadfast in the knowledge that no one believed a word they said.  When they started believing it again, the people in the editing room had decided that it didn't really matter what was being said, and kept telling the truth because it was easier than coming up with lies.  That didn't mean the newsreels had gotten any less tacky and absurd, it just meant they were nice and accurate in the process.  

"I don't think they quite got the right angle in some of the stills, but overall, they painted you as quite the hero.  And I daresay, you strike me as the sort to play a mean game of TacSim."

"Never much of a taste for sports actually, I learned most of my strategy following Gran around Realm.  Her mastery of Maneuver and Logistics are really quite good, even for someone as experienced as she is."  Realm was the virtual reality preferred among the major nations; it let anyone become the hero of their own adventures, and was generally considered to be an excellent measure of international politics.  The Emperor's grandmother, Chasia Laerdsfeldair, had retired to the position of regent of virtual affairs following her husband's death.  On account of her unfortunate undeath, she was expected to hold the position for quite some time.  As Curt mentioned her, Salvia glanced over and saw the Laerdsfeldair talking in hushed voices with a rather pretty red-haired girl and a young man who seemed strikingly familiar, but whom Salvia could not remember having ever seen before.  

"My old mentor, Father Krell, used to talk extensively of his time in Realm; before the plague of course."

"Gran mentions a Krell sometimes, a strong, just warrior.  Perhaps they're related?"

"I doubt it, Krell never spoke of his family, except to say that he'd had one and still checked in on his descendants at times.  Unless your Gran spoke of his being a priest, I doubt they are the same."

"Not a priest, but religious at least.  But tell me this; aren't all witches orphans raised by the coven?  How is it that you came to have a Priest for a mentor?"

Nothing in her drink had indicated use of magic, and yet she still felt like she could trust him.  If she had not been sitting at a crowded table, with both Braga and Hack so nearby and the room full of guards, or more truthfully, if they were alone somewhere and she could secure the doors and windows, she would have told him the whole truth and prayed for an understanding reaction.  This was not the case however, and so she told him only what was simple.  

"He found me in the wreckage after a battle.  My parents had shielded me from the rubble with their bodies, and he almost didn't notice me.  But after that he always made sure to provide me with a place to live, things to read, and once a week he would take me out to teach me to fence or to counter-spell, all the while telling me tales of heroes, villains, and perfectly ordinary folk doing perfectly ordinary things.  When I first began to manifest, he moved me into the care of the coven.  He still came, and the matrons seemed to understand that even though they were the ones who raised me, he was the one responsible for me."  She paused and gauged his reaction.  A sort of half-smile, and sympathy; she had the feeling, perhaps from her witch's training, that he regarded his gran in much the same way; not exactly a parent, but certainly the one who'd always seen after him.  

"I'm actually here today because he went missing a month ago.  There was a scuffle at the Monastery on Gasca, and I lost his trail.  Hack,"

"Who?"

"Sorry, Old Cloak, says he knows where I'll find him."  She took a moment to consider the risks, calculated her chances, and took them.  "If you'd like, we could talk about this more later, elsewhere, but I don't feel like this is the time or place for certain subjects."  She glanced across his shoulder, both from the concern that Hack might be listening more closely than she wished him to, and to indicate to the Prince the cause for her concern.  Hack had given no indication of having heard, and seemed to be focusing his attentions on the activities of Chasia and her companions.  Curt seemed to get the cue and replied simply, "I'm sure a Witch such as yourself would like a chance to meet with the sprite of the spring.  If you'd like, I could come by your room around seven or so and give you a tour of the grounds?"

"I'd be delighted."  And Salvia meant it.