chapter.33  »  the mage's advice.

Nicholas's order rung in her head as Catherine made her way to the oldest Finder in all of Preriloth.  The Mage was what she was and what people called her.  Never in her life had Catherine ever turned to the Mage, for she had never really had that big of a problem to need her.  But now, she needed the oldest Finder's help, because the biggest problem she had never imagined had come and besieged her.

Rumor had it that the Mage was nothing but a frail old woman who scammed her customers for the money and the fun.  She wasn't legitimate, and everything was only play; when she did Find correctly, it was only out of coincidence or because her little house rats had tipped her.  But even though these weren't true, Catherine admittedly doubted the Mage.

This special Finder lived in a run-down hut in one of the faraway forests surrounding Preriloth.  The hut was perched atop a muddy ground that almost resembled a miniature hill, a slow stream running beside it.  Some say that the stream was magical—it glowed a light green-blue, and the Mage used its powers to conjure up her Finder instincts.  Finder instincts faded as one grew older, but because the Mage had the stream all to her, they said that was why she was still alive, and was unanimously crowned the best Finder in all the land.

Catherine didn't want a royal band following her around, that would only look suspicious, she said.  So she had only three others with her: her adviser, a Royal Soldier, and the prince's mentor.  It hurt her to look at the mentor since he reminded her so much of her son, but she chose to set aside the pain and focus solely on why they trudged the dangerous path toward the Mage's hut.

And how dangerous it was.  Once or twice they almost ran into a Kemmer, but their convincing disguises helped them out greatly.  Catherine looked like a peasant in her olive robe, the dirty hood draped over her head, and her companions looked even worse.  They were treated poorly, but it was better than being taken as hostages under the Kemmer king's watch.

But alas, they reached the forest.  When they entered the vicinity, coldness began to seep into their bones.  The sunlight seemed to not get through the thickness of the canopy of tree branches above.  It began to grow darker and darker... but when Catherine took another step, the space that her foot touched lit up vaguely.

She gasped.  “Did you see that?  Did any of you see that?”

“Saw what, my Queen?”  The Army man immediately asked.

She set her right foot slowly on the ground again, and there it was: the glow.  The two men walking behind her exchanged looks, and they too tried it out.  Under their feet the earth danced with light green glow as if their steps brought the ground alive.

The prince's mentor smiled weakly.  “I think we are on the right road, my Queen.”

Catherine looked pleased.  “Come, all.  Let's follow the glow.”

So they followed the glow; they hopped one foot on certain areas of the dirt path.  When it glowed, they followed it; when it didn't, they took another step in another direction until they finally could see the hut on the miniature hill.  The Queen didn't fail to notice that whenever the stream passed the hut, it seemed to sparkle brighter and more vividly.  They trekked upward and, after knocking and being invited in by the Mage, entered the hut.

“I don't think I'll agree,” the Mage drawled.  Her grip on her battered cane tightened.

Catherine's eyes grew.  She stammered.  “H-Have you no idea with whom you are speaking?  Why, how—!  How very daring of you!”

“I am fully aware of who is in my company, my Queen,” the Mage said, “but I am afraid I will have to deny you, as I have done to several others before you.  It is nothing personal, believe me.”

The Queen regained her posture.  “How can I believe you if you can so bravely turn down the Queen who owns the land your... home is perched upon.  It is rather ungrateful.”

The Mage only blinked.  For an old woman, she had the aura of someone much younger, and bolder.  “I live in one of the forests surrounding Preriloth, Your Highness.  You own Preriloth, not the forests that surround it.”

The Royal Soldier put a hand on his sword's hilt, but Catherine stopped him.  She faced the Mage with a business-like attire, which made her seem a little desperate.

“Would you mind telling me exactly why you are turning me down?”

The Mage stood from the ratty chair she had been sitting, walking to the shelves stacked with glowing potions behind her.  “Finding is an arduous task, m'lady, as opposed to how most people see it.  It is also not merely an act of tracking down a certain person by throwing innumerable ingredients into a bubbling iron cauldron and asking unimportant questions to the Seeker, but, rather, it is a type of art.”

Prince Jinki's mentor raised a shaky finger.  “That is only partially true, my Queen—”

“Of course you'd know all about Finding, wouldn't you, sir-mentor?”  The Mage said snarkily, glancing at the mentor in the corner of your eye.  “Wherever did you find your knowledge from?  Books?  Rolls of frail parchment?  Fellow mentors?  The oldest Finder in the land?”

The mentor brought down his finger, gulping.

“As I as was saying, Finding is an art,” the Mage continued.  “And like any other type of art, what it needs of its audience is appreciation.  But if the audience does not appreciate the artwork, how would he find the beauty in it?  How would he find it... useful?”

“Are you saying—”

“You lack belief, my Queen.”  The Mage turned around, outright staring at Catherine through her droopy eyelids.  “You do not appreciate Finding.  Particularly you do not appreciate my Finding.  I'd venture a guess it is because of all the things those dimwitted people have said of me.  Although I understand, I do not think I would work for someone who clearly does not trust my ability to perform a task I've been doing ever since the dawn of my time.”

Catherine fought back her tears, shakily saying, “I will pay you a great amount for the service—”

“I do not care about the gold and silver you will shove down my robes for my service in the same way you do not care whether Preriloth wins this war or not,” The Mage snapped.  “I need only appreciation, and you need only your son.  But I won't give him if you do not give me what I need.”

Finally, the Queen's shoulders dropped, her breathing became ragged, and tears fell from her eyes and hit the wooden grimy floor like bombs.  She dropped on her knees before the Mage whose deadpan expression didn't falter.  Catherine begged her furiously, grabbing onto the hem of the Mage's robes.  Several rats scuttled in the corner, their tiny feet scraping the barrels there.  But the Mage still denied her, and even though Catherine tried more than once to make herself believe the Mage, to at least seem like it, the Mage seemed to see right through her and her thoughts and feelings.  The Mage turned her down.

Just as the Queen's party reached the doorway, the Mage's cane fell and the guard drew his sword.  But the Mage didn't make any sort of movement to protest or shield herself.  Instead she stared ahead, blankly.  Catherine returned slowly, facing the Mage, and jumped in shock when the Mage's eyes turned into a bright, ugly white.

“The Prince has come hither with the one you have great loathing,” the Mage said, rasping.  It was not her voice—it was something demonic.  “Kingdom against kingdom shall fight; in sight are two earthlings.  Blood will be spilt.  The daughter of the lost land has returned.”

When the light in the Mage's eyes dimmed, she fell face-first to the ground.  The Queen and her servants ran quickly away from the hut, their steps causing the path to glow, before the hut was engulfed in green flames, eating away the walls and what were inside it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE.

the hard thing about leaving something/slacking off on something for a long time is you forget exactly why you left it in the first place.  but most importantly, you forget what to do next.  and you feel bad again.

i'm not even gonna say sorry; i'm just gonna shut up and do the next chapters so i can start on my next fic which will also be an OnewxOC fic (funnier, i swear. also, set only on Earth) so yeah.

anyway, i rather like the Mage, she's an awesome lady.  shame she died early.  you will be missed, Mage lady.

comments are appreciated still, and i bid you adieu.

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