“I don’t expect you to believe an outrageous story about a shape-shifting woman who turned into a dragon, but that is indeed who I fought, yes.”
Solace’s still expression didn’t seem to change. “Similar stories have been documented in books, though I was always skeptical of their accuracy.” As he talked, Solace brought his hand to hover over Ozahr’s cheek. His orange glow spilled from his palm again and brushed against the wound, closing it up and healing all the tissue around it.
Ozahr touched his cheek, surprised to find it completely smooth once again. Solace, on the other hand, held his and lightly winced.
“What’s the matter?”
Solace patted his own cheek. It seemed perfectly fine on the outside. “Nothing. That’s just the cost of my magic. I get the pleasure to feel what you feel, but without the actual injury, thankfully. A dragon is a wild animal after all—a scratch like that could’ve gotten infected. Why were you fighting a dragon in the first place?”
“Weeeeell, y’see…” Ozahr told him his story while Solace took notes in one of the leather-bound notebooks that were sitting on his desk. When Ozahr reached the part about his bargain with Redmondel, Solace looked up from his notes and furrowed his brows.
"What could a dragon possibly want with a phoenix?" He mumbled more to himself than to Ozahr.
"So the phoenix exists?"
"It's hard to say." Solace turned to his bookshelf and flipped through some old looking journals. "Dragons might've been documented here and there, but besides there being only one phoenix in the world, most scholars can't even agree on what it was like."
Ozahr reached into his robe and pulled out the piece of paper he found in Redmondel's library. "How about this depiction?"
Solace carefully took the piece of paper and stepped to his desk where he could look at it under a magnifying glass. With a glowing finger, Solace touched the paper and delicate plant fibers began growing out of it.
He adjusted his glasses and turned to Ozahr. "I don't know if you realize this, but this paper is made of extinct plants that only ever grew at the edge of the spiral lands.”
"You're telling me my only lead is at the edge of the world?"
“Not quite the world, only the intact lands still connected to the spiral.” Solace approached his bookshelf again and took out an atlas with a fraying spine that was starting to show its strings. He flipped to an image outlining the rough climate borders along the arms of the spiral. “Do you see the yellow region here?”
Ozahr took a closer look and slowly enunciated the words on the page. “Sham-ha-ra… Is that some sort of desert?”
“These days, yes,” Solace explained. “But it used to be much more. Have you heard of the archeological digs that were halted some 70 years ago due to massive casualties?”
“No, but go on,” Ozahr was much more interested in world events when they weren’t written on a sad excuse for a newspaper that was The Cadmia Harbinger.
“Well, long story short, the very brief mentions of the phoenix in books always included descriptions of a particular ancient civilization. I’ll spare you the arguments of the academic world on where they theorized this civilization used to be, but after a lot of trial and error, and many, many digs, they found signs of an old kingdom in Shamhara.”
“You sure know a lot about this,” Ozahr commented. He didn’t realize he signed up for a lecture from an expert.
“Yes, and the Academy hates that. Anyway,” Solace continued, “any time something of value was uncovered, there was an unfortunate accident leading to a lot of archeologists and scholars dying. In the end, the Academy deemed the mission too dangerous to continue and shut down all operations in Shamhara. You know, like the cowards they are.”
“Something tells me you don’t like the Academy in Erith very much.”
“Let’s just say that if I left the shop more often, you’d be more likely to see attempted arson on the Academy in the newspaper.”
Ozahr couldn’t help but laugh, despite Solace reinforcing the fact he was dead serious about this matter. The remaining details of the story were just bits of history that were not particularly helpful to Ozahr’s mission—how was he to bring proof the phoenix was still around when his only clues were buried deep under sand?
“Well,” Said Ozahr as he slapped his knees and got up from the comfy chair Solace offered him during the story, “I suppose the lost kingdom of Shamhara is as good as place as any to start my search.”
“Good luck,” Solace said plainly.
Ozahr was surprised when Solace didn’t voice any concerns or objections to the idea. “You really think I can find the phoenix there?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh, goodie. And how long do you reckon before I can create portals again so I can go fail my mission?"
Solace looked at the marks on Ozahr's arms which were steadily fading by now. "Twenty four hours, if I were to estimate it on the safer side. Or—" he said with a raised finger before Ozahr could sigh in defeat, "fifteen seconds, if you manage to bring me something from the archeological digs."
"I'm sorry, what?" Ozahr leaned forward. "How am I supposed to heal in fifteen seconds?"
"Simple," Solace shrugged. "Just promise you'll bring back an ancient piece of historical civilization."
"Alright," Ozahr said a bit reluctantly. "I promise I'll make an attempt."
“Good enough.” Solace got up from his chair, took off his blazer, and pulled up his white sleeves. "Very well, then. Turn your palms up."
"I thought you said magic fatigue is incurable."
"Not at all," said Solace with a little smirk. "I merely said no potion in the world could do it."
His palms lit up in bright orange, as if he was holding the rays of the sun in his hands. Solace grabbed Ozahr's arms and blue sparks began flying around the room. Their magic intermingled, forming faint ribbons of green among the flying blue and orange lights. Ozahr could hardly explain the sensation—all the fatigue was gone, nothing stung or burned. Ozahr felt like he just stepped out of a bubble bath.
The light slowly disappeared. Unlike Ozahr, Solace hunched over and grabbed his sides, muttering under his breath, “Did you make snow angels in the glass, holy…”
Ozahr tried to help him out, but Solace just shooed him out of the room. “Find something useful for my research,” he said. “And tell Baba I’m taking the day off!”
The door quickly closed and Ozahr stood in the dim hallway, still checking his limbs and sensing no trace of pain or fatigue.
“Solace, dearie,” The old woman called from around the corner.
Ozahr peaked back into the shop. “He’s taking the day off, Baba.”
“Oh, but what about the tea I brewed for you two?”
“Unfortunately I must go as well, Baba. Shamhara awaits,” said Oz while looking into the distance in no particular direction.
“Shamhara, you say?” Baba unwrapped her shawl and fished out an amulet from her sweater. “In that case, let me give you my good luck charm. It’s a long journey, you don’t want to be caught in the jaws of a sand worm.”
“A what now?” Ozahr dropped the hero pretenses for a moment. While preparing for the unkind climate of the desert would be a wise choice, Ozahr had no time to waste, so he hoped the lucky charm from the master alchemist would suffice.
The amulet she pulled out was far too large to be elegantly worn as jewelry. It was a gray looking oversized coin, and despite how flat it was, it weighed like a good stone or three. It just barely managed to cover Ozahr’s palm.
When he brought it closer to his face, the metallic smell was not entirely pleasant. “Looks like it has something drawn on it… Well, had.”
“500 years would be unkind even to the most precious objects,” Baba closed Ozahr’s hand around the amulet. “It’s priceless. You better not lose it.”
Ozahr’s eyes widened and he tried to push the amulet back onto Baba, but her hand resisted his efforts. “I’m not sure I want to take a precious, irreplaceable artifact with me.”
“You’ll need it. You’ll see,” Baba reassured him. “I will deliver the basket to Elidyr and let him know you’re helping Solace with his research.”
“Oh, thank you.” Wait, when did she learn about the deal I made with him?
“And make sure to never look into a phoenix’s eyes. It’s bad luck,” She warned him. “Now, go! You don’t have much time.” Baba shooed him out of the shop, reassuring Ozahr that she packed some real potions in his bag, along with a few cheeses she’s been aging and a simple map.
"Well," said Ozahr to himself as he walked in Erith to a more isolated street where his magic won’t disturb anyone, "I've got a map, I've got magic, how hard could creating a portal across the seas be?"
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