Not long after departing from Drift, Claire had slipped away in search of a quiet refuge. The events of the past few days had left her feeling like an anchorless boat adrift at sea with no land in sight. What would she do if they reached these mountains only to be led somewhere else in the end, or worse, discover that Alek had never gone there to begin with?
It was with these misgivings and more rattling about in her head that she leaned against the railing of the upper deck and stared out across the vast landscape of Oria. She stared until the sun began its slow, lazy descent towards the horizon, and stared longer still as the sky went from blue to red to purple tinged on its edges by a burgeoning darkness.
Stars were just beginning to flare to life when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
"Draz, I'm not really in the mood..." she said without bothering to turn around. When there was no witty retort she turned to see who had intruded her solitude. To her surprise it wasn't Draz, but her father.
She felt her heart squeeze in her chest as a surge of unfettered emotions flooded through her. The relay must've shown on her face because Valerick's expression went from cautious to embarrassed and quickly averted his gaze.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, I'll leave you be," he said, the uncertainty in his voice a far cry from the man who had rescued her on the docks hours before. Claire thought about how she had felt in those moments when she thought he was going to die and found herself holding out her hand to stop him.
"Wait," she replied, causing Valerick to pause in his retreat. "It's okay if you want to stay."
Valerick nodded and Claire swore she could see a hint of a smile even in the growing darkness. He moved closer, settling against the railing beside her, and stared out towards the night sky.
For a long time the only sound was the soft, persistent creaking of ropes and wood as the ship sliced effortlessly through the air. While one might suspect the silence to be awkward, for Claire it was comforting in a way. To her, Valerick's silence seemed to say, "I'm struggling too" and it made her feel better that she wasn't alone.
She knew, however, that sooner or later one of them would have to say something and so she decided to take the plunge. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to speak but Valerick beat her to it.
"I never would have let her go alone," he said, his voice quiet.
"Huh?" Claire replied.
What did he mean?
"Your mother," he said. "I never would have let her go alone if I had known she was pregnant."
"Oh," she said, looking down at her hands. "Why did you let her go alone at all?"
"I wish I had a reason that would justify it in your eyes," he replied, "but the truth is, I was young and selfish. When she told me what Elysia asked her to do, I was furious. I took it as a personal affront when in reality it had nothing to do with me. We had just married, but she was sacrificing it all for what? Some half baked plan born of desperation? We got into a terrible fight, for me going to Earth, being stripped of my magic, was a sentence worse than death."
"So I foolishly gave her an ultimatum, forgetting in my anger how stubborn and proud your mother was. I told her to choose and that if she chose to proceed with her fool's errand that I would not be waiting when she returned."
He finally looked at her, a sad smile etched across his weathered features. "We both know how this story ends," he said, "and the irony of it all is that in the end I did wait, I waited for years, and when she didn't come back I insisted that Elysia tell me where she had gone."
"But it was too late," Claire finished for him, recalling the flowers.
"She stayed too long in that world, and in the end it consumed her," he said, an undeniable bitterness lacing his words. "After that I came back here, plagued with the thoughts of what if. What if I had gone with her? What if I had stopped her? What if I had gone sooner, then perhaps I could have saved her. I started drinking heavily, I lost my position at the Academy, and, well, I did my best to disappear."
"She never blamed you," Claire said at last.
"Pardon?"
"My mother... I don't think she blamed you," she repeated before reaching over to place her hand over his where it rested on the railing. "Whenever I asked her about my father, about you, she would always smile and tell me she would explain when I was older, but that you were a good man. I gradually accepted the idea that you were dead, it was easier that way."
Valerick let out a deep sigh. "Nothing I can say or do will ever make up for the past," he looked towards her, his expression grave. "I won't ask for your forgiveness, I don't deserve it. I do, however, have one request."
"What is it?"
"Give me the opportunity to train you," he said.
Claire's brows furrowed in confusion. Train her? Train her in what exactly?
As though reading her mind, Valerick chuckled. "You've not just got Orian blood in your veins, Claire. You hail from a long lineage of master magicians that have a special bond with the magic of this realm."
"You mean the cards?"
Valerick nodded. "You've got great power inside of you, a raw talent that simply needs to be honed."
"I don't know about all that," Claire protested, not quite sure she believed all this nonsense.
"I do," he said with such resoluteness that she found herself wondering if he might be right.
"How can you be so confident?" she asked.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the all too familiar deck of cards. "For the most part, magic is about manipulating the world around you whether you use runes, words, or gestures. For Card Masters, it's all about trust. If there is no bond between the cards and their master, then there is no magic."
"Yours worked for me," she said.
"Yes, but that is because I told them, indirectly, to protect you," he said. "As I am sure you've noticed, magic is a fickle beast. You can either force it to your will, like your fire friend does, or you can convince it to work with you."
"But how?"
"The answer to that question is not easily pinned down, for every Card Master the method through which the magic responds is different, even from card to card. The only constant is the sincerity of the master," Valerick explained.
"How am I supposed to make something tangible from such an abstract idea?"
"You already have," he said, holding out two cards.
She took them from him. "What do you mean?"
"These are not mine," Valerick explained further, pointing to the cards Claire now held in her hands. Turning them over one of the cards depicted a spiraling fight of illuminated stairs, the other card depicted a single, shimmering coal burning in a pile of snow. "And this one never had a name before..."
He held out a third card and Claire immediately recognized it.
The sword Winter Fire, the one she had used to cut off Sevik's arm.
She took it from him and stared at all three cards in her hands. They felt familiar and comfortable and she felt at ease now that she was holding them again.
"You made these," Valerick said, "and you can make dozens more."
He pulled another deck of cards from his pocket and held them out to her. Claire took them, curious as to what they might hold. When she began to sort through them, however, she was surprised to find that they were all blank.
"Don't worry about filling them all," he explained. "The amount of spells is not important, but rather the thought put into them. There is power in desire, but impulsivity will get you into trouble."
"I'm not sure I can even figure out how..." Claire said, sighing. "Those other cards... I was desperate, I needed help, how do I recreate that under normal circumstances?"
"Open yourself up to the magic," he said, "what is something you want right now?"
"Honestly?" she replied. "I wish my shoulder would stop hurting."
"Excellent, now, take a card in your hands and focus on the pain," he said. "Close your eyes. Visualize it, make it into something tangible and then... imagine it leaving. Watch as it flows outward..."
Claire did as he instructed. She closed her eyes and turned her attention inward, to the dull, burning throb in her shoulder. She pictured a ball of fire and then imagined it flickering wildly as though caught in a strong wind. The flame struggled to stay lit before finally giving into the demands of her imagination and finally going out. The pain began to subside and within a matter of seconds it was gone entirely.
"Open your eyes, Claire," Valerick said.
She did as she asked and caught the light illuminating the card in her hands just as it began to fade. Drawing the card closer in the darkness, she was surprised to see it now bore a picture of an arm which bore the signs of having been previously injured.
"A simple mending card, always useful in any magician's arson," Valerick said, looking pleased. Claire stared down at the card in awe. Was it possible she had really done it?
"How do you know?" She asked, still feeling skeptical.
Valerick said nothing, he simply reached out and took hold of her injured shoulder and squeezed it gently. Her body stiffened in response, an automatic reaction spurred in anticipation of the pain that would no doubt follow.
To her surprise, and relief, there was none, not even a twinge.
It was as though it had never happened.
"Do you believe me now?"
Claire looked from him back to the card in her hand and couldn't help but smile.
Valerick chuckled.
"That's enough for one night," he said. "It's been a long day for all of us. Why don't you go and get some sleep?"
She nodded, though sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.
There was only a single oil lamp lit when Claire entered her cabin. It cast a soft orange glow over the interior of the room making it seem even more claustrophobic than it had been when she'd first seen it earlier in the day.
The space was as opulent and over the top as the rooms within the tower had been and she smiled to herself when she recalled how Draz had whined and grumbled, wanting to know why he had to share a cabin with Rollan and Valerick, but she got this space to herself. In return, Xeiren informed Draz that if he was displeased with the accommodations he was welcomed to sleep in the brig where there was plenty of room.
The cabin itself would have been quite spacious if it weren't for all the hand carved furniture that had been crammed into the space. One wall was occupied by a large bed around which were draped swaths of colorful fabrics. At the foot of the bed was a chest with a carving of a serpent-like dragon on its lid. The head of the dragon was fashioned into a latch and upon closer inspection Claire discovered the chest to be locked.
Opposite the bed was a large oak desk and several book shelves burdened by books of all shapes and sizes. Some of the titles were in English but many were written in a language that Claire did not recognize.
Above the desk was a large, framed map depicting far off places. She knew from a map she had seen hanging in Alek's study that this one wasn't a map of Oria. Aside from that obvious distinction, it was also covered in the same strange writing as the book.
Claire made a mental note to ask Xeiren about it later.
Closing the door behind her, Claire moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled out the cards once more. It was still difficult to believe that she was in the place at all let alone capable of wielding magic. The new card still felt warm to the touch and as stared down at it, she had a thought.
Her father had said that new cards were formed from a combination of desire and magic. What if she could make a card that could help her find Alek? With trembling fingers she drew a blank card from the deck. Her heart began to pound in her chest and she had to remind herself to breathe.
For the first time since they'd begun this journey, Claire felt truly hopeful.
Closing her eyes, she clasped the card tightly between her fingers.
"Please," she whispered into the silence of the room. "Please help me find Alek."