Chapter Eighteen, 'Return to Sickle Ear Lake'

They walked for nearly a week. Alicea began wondering just how long she'd been unconscious after Kron's ambush. Nond had been quiet; the golem had been unwilling to explain his origin. He had been willing to say only that his task was to maintain some sort of balance, something about readying the world for civilization. Apparently he had known Scorch's family for several generations.

Scorch was rarely quiet. His idea of stealth was to set fire to anything around whoever he was sneaking by, and then hope the fire distracted him. He was rough, dirty, and often was hard to understand. He was exactly what her father had described when he told her about pyromancy; only older. He openly despised the Ga-Vok; She spent a lot of time pulling him away from the numerous opportunities to employ his vast Pyrotechnic expertise against passing pilgrims and merchants.

For all his faults, Scorch had been a well of pop culture references, Nieldic witticisms, and off-color jokes. Whenever she got to the base scorch referred to as 'the monastery' she felt like she'd be adequately prepared to strike up small talk and fit in with the crowds. It would be nice to not stand out for once.

They were making camp on the sixth night when Nond motioned for her to follow him. She trailed him to a familiar looking lake.
"Do you know why Kron left you on the mountainside?"
"Prophecy, he seemed like the kind of guy who was into fate and destiny."

Nond glanced toward the mountains in the distance. A tower could be seen by the twilight of the setting sun.
"Orders. The warlock obeys masters both material and spiritual."
"The Alpha knows of me?"
"The shaman sought the advice of the Oracle's high council when you were brought here. The Silver-Slain are not known to their kind, and your destruction could not be achieved."

An involuntary shudder went through her as the golem spoke of silver. She'd noticed it before; Scorch had shown her some of the Nielda's silver coins. It was cold; not physically, but the way the dead are cold. She felt some small hunger from it. The presence of death felt closer when she held that coin than ever before.

"Then what kind are you to know of these, Silver-Slain as you call them?"
"The sprites name you bonesteel, as they name the walking wolves the wetnose. To me they give the name bloodskull; what can you infer of this?"
"Nond, the Iron Sage, is a shell. Inside there is still life."
"The Nielda believe there is one constant. Death. One day that life, the enchantments I used to bind my soul, the blood I shaped to bear it, and the iron shell I crafted to serve it shall fade. Death can not be escaped, but it can be fled."
"Why sage? I've never seen you use anything but a few natural magics, and the passive charms of the land. Wouldn't Geomancer be more fitting?"
"Yes. I am not sage by magic."
"Then why sage?"

Nond pointed across the lake.
"Where does a Sprite's shrine originate?"
"I assumed they were always there. I've never heard of a world without them."
"But what need would nature have to take form without beings? Why would Sprites use of shrines if their were none to attend them?"
"Why not?"

It was probably a laugh; golems were never intended to laugh. But the ringing, irregular bellow could be nothing else."
"A true Nielda. Why question what always functions, and why maintain what has never broken?"
"That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"It is yet isn't. We are not a perfect race, but you represent us well for one not raised by our kindred. Sprites take form only on worlds where sentient life exists. If the shrines are not tended or the sprites are corrupted or destroyed then nature will lash out against the newcomers. Tara and Mejii were not attended and the harshness of both worlds was a menace against their settlers, but on Media where the witch coven prospered the world is calm. The guard sought their counsel and we learned the secrets."
"The sprites?"
"Indeed." The golem turned to Alicea. "I am Nond, the imperial guard sent me aboard the I.S.S. Jentur voalain to be ready should our expedition reach fruition. Along with a few of the ship's crew I established a bastion on this world two-hundred years ago, the monastery. My task was to lead my men and establish the shrines of the sprites. We were ordered to continue our task until the population reached levels necessary for the witch population to take up our responsibility. The Ga-Vok population is now sufficient to maintain that responsibility. The clan shaman will perform that role suitably. But my body was weak before that time and I took upon myself this one."
"Then what is the task you spoke of for me?"

Nond looked back to the tower. A light could be seen dimly in the highest window.
"The balance is broken. Cavel the wisp has been destroyed. His power and the power of his kindred has been usurped by the warlock of the tower. If a sprite had survived then the power could be passed on and the balance restored, but with the kindred fallen the warlocks power must be passed onto a soul with the strength to bear that power. You are strong, and you wish his destruction. You have but to complete your own goal to restore the balance and fill the void."

Alicea grinned, She had the upper hand and it felt good.
"Actually Nond, there is a survivor. The nymph Vel escaped the slaughter. If it can be achieved it is she who should have the power."

Nond turned and began walking back to camp.
"If the nymph still lives than you will have to give her victory. Cavel was mightiest of all Gasca's sprites. A mere nymph will need all her power to beat even a weakened Kron."
He looked over his shoulder at the young warrioress.
"As shall you, lightning wolf."