Rogue Legacy, Jeffrey L. Kohanek [best pdf reader for ebooks .txt] 📗

She surveyed her work, the glade surrounding the cabin now clear of brush, replaced by rows of churned earth. It had taken two days, but she had finally planted every seed they had purchased from Ruth. It being mid-summer, Lyra just hoped that the vegetables had enough time to grow before the first frost. At their elevation, it would get cold in the fall, and snow in the winter. The thought of snow excited her, having never lived with it. At the same time, she knew that cold weather made life difficult, sure to slow any travel and forever laced with the danger of freezing to death.

Cal approached, carrying a dead crowster by the feet, the large bird swaying to the beat of his stride.

“The trap worked. I caught us dinner and then some.”

Lyra stood. “Good. I welcome the idea of a hot meal.”

He passed her, entering the cabin. She followed, closing the door behind them. Her gaze swept around the room, recalling how it had looked four days past.

They had buried the man’s skeleton, marking his grave with a pile of stones. The dust was now absent, the cobwebs as well. Even the window had been cleaned, exposing the amazing view of the lake and mountains beyond. Lyra had washed the bedding using a bar of soap and cold lake water, while Cal cleared away the foliage that had filled the glade surrounding the cabin. Within two days, it began to seem like a home.

“I’ll get the fire started, and we can fashion a spit to cook the bird.”

Lyra thought back to the conveniences of her previous life with Cal. “When are you going to make a magic oven, like the one we had at Mystic Manor?”

He glanced toward her as he set the bird down and shoved some bark beneath the wood stacked in the fireplace.

“I’m not.”

“What? Why?”

“No more Infusion.” Cal pulled the flint out and struck it twice before a spark ignited and the bark began to smolder. “Think about what happened with The Hand. Look at the monsters they created with it.” He blew on the bark and a flame appeared, flickering as it grew larger. “I don’t think the world is ready for the responsibility of permanent augmentations.” He stood and turned toward her. “Everyone else who knew how to perform them is either dead or banished. Perhaps things will be different one day, but for now, it seems best to allow the knowledge to fade from existence.”

“Wait. So no cold box to keep food fresh? No floating pack to help carry heavy goods?”

He shook his head, appearing quite serious. “Nope.”

Lyra sat on the sofa, collapsing in defeat. “Fine. You might be right, but those things made life…easier.”

“That’s why I made them in the first place. Things are different now, so we’ll just have to live with the same daily difficulties as everyone else.”

A sigh escaped as she resigned herself to his plan. However, what other plans does he have? What is he not telling me?

“Cal.”

“Yes, Lyra.”

“I need to know. What’s next? This place is livable now, but that doesn’t address the bigger picture.”

He sat in the chair, facing her.

“I’ve been thinking about that. I’d like to start a school, where I can teach others magic and share Issal’s message. I just need to figure out how to make it happen.”

Lyra nodded. “You need gold. I have gold, remember.”

“You’re right, but I’ll need more. I need to pull a lot of people here. We need enough gold to build a village. And with the village, I’ll build the school.”

Lyra smiled. “I know where we can get more. Lots more.”

“The cave?”

She nodded. “Yes. I can find it. I know it. There, we’ll have enough gold to pay for anything you need.”

He sat back, rubbing his chin in thought. “That might work. If we get started this summer, we can add a few buildings before winter hits. Next year, we can bring more people and begin on building the school.”

“And, while we’re at the cave, we can gather more of this glowing stone. With it, we can make and sell glowing lamps…lamps that shed light without the need for fire.” Lyra thought of her own home burning down after tipping a candle. “No more home fires from candles. No more torches. No more smoke.”

Cal laughed. “Glowing lamps.” He nodded. “That’s good. That’s the kind of thing we need to make the world a better place.”

He stood and took two steps, kneeling before her. “I can’t do any of this on my own. Even while we were apart, your memory was a source of stability and strength for me. You are my foundation, Lyra. I would collapse without you.”

Lyra’s heart quickened as she stared into Cal’s eyes, sensing the direction of his words.

“Despite my abilities, I find that your beauty, your wit, and your spirit are the things that make my life magical. Lyra, I would consider myself blessed by Issal himself if you would agree to be my wife.”

Lyra bit her lip, trying to contain the emotions stirring inside. A tear tracked down her face and a giggle slipped out before she could form words.

“I would be honored to be your wife, Cal.”

His eyes lit up and he hugged her tightly while she returned his embrace. Relaxing his grip, he gave her a tender kiss and stood, extending his hand toward her.

“Before Issal, I pledge myself to you, to love you and to support you, for as long as we live.”

He pulled her to her feet.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“As a minister of Issal, I’m marrying us.”

“You can do that?”

He shrugged. “The Ministry is gone. I’m about to start it anew, but as its only member, nobody can tell me that I can’t declare us married.”

A smile spread across her face. “I’ll play along.” She dropped the smile, donning a serious expression. “I, Lyra Jane Tascalli, pledge my love and support to you for as long as we live.”

Cal held her face and gave her a tender kiss, smiling as he pulled back and stared into her eyes. Lyra had never been happier. Despite the loss of her father, the deaths of Garrett and Tallinor, and numerous trials along the way, her path had led her to this. To spend the rest of her life with Cal and help him make the world a better place, she would have traded anything in the world. His dreams inspired her and had become her own dreams as well.

He took her hands in his and stood tall and proud. “As a minister of Issal, I formally declare us Mister and Misses Pascal Harman Fallbrandt.”

“Wait,” Harman interjected, leaning forward. “Mother told me that I’m named after Grandpa Harman. Is he named after this Pascal guy?”

Jane laughed. “Sort of. Your grandfather is this Pascal guy.”

“What? But I thought his name is Harman.”

“His middle name is Harman. I started calling him that shortly after we were married. At the same time, he began calling me Jane.” She shrugged. “Cal and Lyra were a bit too famous, and we feared that trouble might follow them. When your grandpa founded the Academy and restarted the church of Issal, he told others that he was Pascal’s brother, since the name held sufficient notoriety to help gather Issal’s followers. He told everyone that Pascal was the founder, and that he was helping him. Despite never actually seeing this mythical brother, nobody suspected that Pascal and Harman were actually the same person.”

“You’re telling me that this entire story was about you, Grandma?”

Jane smiled and stood, gathering the empty plates. “I never said it wasn’t about me.”

Harman stared at his grandmother, thinking back on the story. He began to see her in a new light, noticing her wit, her youthful attitude, tempered by wisdom. It finally clicked. She was Lyra.

Breaking from his reverie, he turned toward her. “So, what happened next?”

She glanced up as she rinsed the plates in a pot of water. “We soon made a trip south and found Wayport under Kalimar’s rule. Other than having a different man in charge and finding armored soldiers patrolling the streets, not much had changed. It took little convincing to gather a handful of families to journey north with us. We soon had six buildings built beside the little cabin we called home.”

Using a towel, she dried the plates and set them on a shelf. “The following spring, I convinced Cal to visit the Tantarri with me. Gar, now called Garamon as some sort of vaunted title, offered us two horses as a wedding gift. It took us some time to become proficient riders, but the added speed completely changed our ability to travel and greatly expanded our range. Over the next few years, we made trips to Vinacci, Kalimar, and even Hurnsdom, recruiting families to join us in Fallbrandt. Soon, the village grew to a town, and the pace of construction at the Academy increased. Even so, the building that stands now is the result of decades of work. I believe it is large enough for hundreds of students and faculty to live there. Someday, we hope to