Courier

"Here you go," said Chief Attico, handing Chepi her newest ​courier ​assignment. "Your favorite client."

Chepi gritted her teeth, feigned a smile, and accepted the scroll tube from Attico. “Gee, thanks from the bottom of my heart, fearless leader” she said. "I should learn to be less competent. Maybe then you'll stop sticking me with Horondus."

Attico grinned. “Enjoy the journey!”

Fortunately for Attico, he was one of the only people in the world Chepi actually liked, so she contented herself with simply glowering and taking the message scroll.

It was definitely for Horundus. The iridescent blue glyph clearly indicated ​it should be delivered​ to Horundus, Chief Expeditor of Silvercreek Merchantile. Only his touch would open the scroll. It was an ancient magick of identity that even the Lord of Aces couldn't swindle. Chepi had surmised that ‘being who you are’ trumps most things, even gods. She was not much of a believer in anything or anyone, anyway.

But it was ​unusual​. Horundus hardly ever received-- or sent-- written messages. He preferred the spoken-- or more often shouted-- word. It was what made him such an infuriating client.

It was hard enough, focusing her attention to fold the weave and find her target. But when it was Horundus, she'd have to do it all while repeating the message over and over to herself, until she had it memorized. Which wouldn't be so bad, if the messages were short and sensible. But Horundus preferred irate, rambling diatribes, with lists of unsubstantiated accusations woven with hard facts. And he wanted them screamed. Loudly. So the recipient could feel the full heat of his anger.

Muttering these diatribes over and over again to memorize them was bad for the spirit. The recipients were never happy, and most recipients forgot not to “kill the messenger”. It was never pleasant. The Directed Forgetting after delivering messages from Horundus was a blessing!

​All the same, Chepi frowned, as she ran a finger along the scroll. What did it contain? She couldn't quite make out the blob of the stamp, hidden by the glyph, but it looked like ​it might be from the Sanctum of Physik. Could Horundus be ill? She'd noticed his skin had been grayish, lately. And his mood had been low, his gestures missing the familiar fiery wrath.

Chepi's heart sank.

It was true. Horundus was insufferable. Infuriating.

But it was also true that she had come to care about the old goat. More than she cared to admit, even to herself.

The first time they met he asked her why they’d sent ​"​a​ ​scarface​ from the Daggers​” with his important message. She​​'d​ ​responded frankly, telling him​ ​“I’m the only one who would take this job because you are universally held to be an impossible person​.​”

The second time they met, she screamed a message from Brother Chalodi straight into Horundus’s face as dictated, with lots of foul gestures (spitting was optional so she skipped that). When she stepped back, falling silent with the completion of the message, Horundus had stared at her with such rage she feared he might slap her. Chepi braced, but when he finally spoke, it was in a cool, amicable tone.

“Thank you Courier. Would you like to play a game of stones?” Horundus offered.

“Stones”, she responded, “that’s when I have to surround your stones with my stones in a game of strategy right?”

“Yes”

“Yeah, I have no idea how to play that.”

“I’ll teach you”

And so he did.

You learn a lot about a person from playing Stones with them. First, he was painfully brilliant. She would never win and she knew it. Second, he was a generous teacher. Watching his strategy was telling and he let her learn from it. Sometimes he would nudge her: “Are you sure you want to do that?”…. and then she’d think and correct. A few times she even won. These games could take hours and he’d call for tea and biscuits and over time, her favorite, sour cherries. He had a sweet tooth, which given his size, was likely a problem. Still, she began to bring almond cookies with her. They seemed to take him out of his grumpiness for a brief moment, and she liked that. She hoped beyond hope it would mean he wouldn’t scream the response in return.

He always seemed a bit sad when she left, and she’d toss off a remark in response: “Oh come on, you’ll see me soon enough. No one else likes you!”. He’d wave and turn back to his crowded, dark, library.

Chepi tried to shake off the sense of unease. The scroll was probably just another angry customer or business partner. There was no reason to think it had anything to do with the dark circles she'd noticed under Horundus's eyes, or the way his clothing had begun to fit so loosely, no matter how many almond cookies she brought him.

Holding the scroll in both hands she knelt at the entry to the Threads. She concentrated on Horundus. His face, his scent, his dweomer, his presence. She thought of his library, the stones, the clouds of smoke from his pipe. She knew him. She would find him.

And so the threads appeared. She held her hands parallel to one another and plucked the threads like a harp – waiting for a sense of him. She found it, but it was weak. And there were many knots. She closed her eyes and moved from thread to thread. There were memories there, a game of stones, his daughter’s eyes, the scent of rosemary. See…this is what one had to forget. These intimate details. As she gently moved from thread to thread, the tears fell. She didn’t want to forget. If she forgot, no one would remember him.

The knots became larger, and her heart sank…please let me find him, she thought…she concentrated. She thought of the stones and the sour cherries and the library and the yelling and she found him.

He was sitting in his favorite chair, by the fire, smoking his pipe. He didn’t get up, which was odd. So she approached. “Sir, a message from the Guild has been sent to you. It is for you only, and you must grasp it in your hands for it to be read”. She pushed the scroll tube forward toward Horundus.

He didn’t rise. So she walked toward the chair to hand it to him personally. What she saw took her aback.

He was paler than ever, so thin she could see the veins along his knobbly arms. His shoulders hunched and his skin grey. “Courier! What have you for me?” he said grinning nonetheless.

“A message, private, in a tube, Sir.” Chepi thrust the scroll out to him.

“Ah”, he said. “No…this is a message for you, Courier”.

“Respectfully, sir, it is for you. It’s marked with your glyph.”

Silently, she urged him to do it. Surely the scroll must contain some advice for treatment from the physicians. If he’d only open the blasted thing he might get better!

Horundus smiled softly and took the scroll from her hands. The glyph briefly illuminated, then went silent upon his touch. He opened the scroll.

Chepi’s heart skipped about five beats waiting to hear what it said, even if she would have to forget it later. Surely, they must have a cure! Her face could not hide her feelings.

In the scroll was... another scroll. A glyph rested upon it in blue – one she had not seen before. He held it in his hands toward her and said “This is for you”.

She held out her hands. If it was true, the glyph would silence and the scroll would open. She was perplexed, sad, and a hundred other things simultaneously.

He placed the scroll in her hands, his eyes crinkling as he said “We live too long, my dear, we just live too long.”

She had never received a message before. The sensation was astonishing. With the touch of her hands the glyph briefly illuminated and then burst and then the scroll opened.

Crikey, she had to get her spectacles.

Sliding them over her nose with shaky hands, Chepi began to read. “I, Horundus Askibar, being of sound mind and vaguely functioning body do hereby leave all my assets, lands, and attributes to one Chepi Astrongigar, Courier from the City of Dreams. I sign with my blood, and I ask her to respond in kind, forever pledging to be my daughter in action and in spirit. That said, if anyone tries to counter this Will, I will come back as a ghost and smite you repeatedly. I mean it.”

“Um...” Chepi uttered.

“Well, yes or no, girl?”

Chepi gazed at Horundus’s face, his brown eyes warm with love and affection, his hands reaching for the stones to play one last game…and she said:

“YES!”