The Maddy and Rayleigh Do Stuff Saga - Episode One: The Big Whoops

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Closed.

I took a deep breath as I played with the piece of silver between my gloved fingers, pondering the many possible outcomes that the future had it store for me.

Before me towered the stone fountain that served as the centerpiece, main tourist attraction, and water source of this dinky little town on the southern Corone shores. Its gray fixtures were magnificently carved, depicting patterns heavily influenced by the elves that resided in the Tylmerande barony. From a series of four chalice-like bowls that were stacked on top of one another, crystal-clear water poured freely and filled the two-foot deep pool. Resting in the bottom of the fountain were the wishes of the town's citizens and travelers through the area in the form of small coins that reflected the afternoon sun overhead.

"Do you know the story of Canton's Font?" the innkeeper had asked me when I took my room key and expressed interest in the landmark.

I told her I indeed had--the legend of the Font was moderately popular among travelers. During an age long forgotten, a desperate military captain or old baron--I cannot remember which--by the name of Elias Canton was on the verge of losing everything repelling off an invading force. He was on the run, battered, bloodied, and tired, when he and his company came across this very landmark in the middle of a barren field just a mile from the rocky shores.

Canton warily approached, and was startled to find the spirit of some minor goddess whose name has been lost to time. The officer or ruler or whatever desperately pleaded with the spirit for the strength to repel his enemies; and after casting a piece of silver into its rippling waters upon her request, found his wish granted and the bodies of himself and his men refreshed. And, of course, his story ended well enough.

The details of what happened after that are fuzzy, as old folktales tend to lose less important details as time passes and the story is retold again and again.

It's been thousands of years since the days of Elias Canton, but the story of the fountain granting his wishes has endured. Even as I stood there, coin in hand, a pair of giggling lovers approached the Font's circular edge. They were wrapped up arm in arm, whispering promises and desires into each others' ears. The boy, who couldn't have been a year out of his teens, fished out a piece of gold from his pockets and teased his companion with it. After several failed attempts at snatching it from him, she finally succeeded and held the glittering metal in front of her face.

The girl hesitated for a few seconds before she flicked the coin into the crystalline waters. As the surface rippled and the gold settled onto the stone bottom of the mystical fountain, the lovebirds dwelled in silence on their hopes and dreams for the life they wanted to share together. Several seconds later, the blonde surprised her lover with a teasing peck on his lips before they turned and walk away, laughter in their voices and passion in their hearts.

I felt nothing but pity for them and what their future was likely to hold.

Hesitantly, I played with my own coin for a few seconds longer as conflicting thoughts ran through my mind. I was never a big believer in the whole "wish" thing; everything I've ever wanted to come true, I went out and made it come true. However, the horrible memory of my best friend Nell dying in my arms was still fresh in my mind. I could vividly picture her throat slashed by my own hand after succumbing to the illusions of a Forgotten One. I thought of the eager, intelligent girl, and wished that I could believe in wishes.

What a world it would be if only it were that easy, right?

With a flick of my fingers, the shining silver disk flipped through the air in a perfect arc and landed in the water with a light splash. As it settled down in the shallow depths of the fountain, small bubbles began to form on the surface and rise up. After several seconds, the coin began to shrink, its corruption dissolving away into nothingness.

My thoughts strayed away from the one I lost as I turned on my heels and walked back to the inn. It was time to get to work.

[Rayleigh]

"'lo there!"

The voice startled the young woman, and she gave a soft squeak of surprise. Quickly, she turned from the sign she had been reading, and found her face only inches away from that of a beaming old man. A bushy white mustache gave way to a long, ratted beard. Yellow teeth, misshapen and crooked like hunks of gold rising from his gums, peeked out through the dense mat of hair. His nose, which was comically small, was planted slightly to the right side of his face. But all of his faults could be forgiven with one look into his wide, cerulean eyes. Within them danced a genuine kindness, a sparkle that the woman had found in the gaze of very few individuals.

"I didn't mean to scare ya," the man continued, reaching to scratch at the back of his flat cap clad head. "We just don't see many visitors 'round here, so I thought I'd welcome ya. I'm real sorry."

The newcomer returned the man's smile, and though it was not nearly as wide or spectacular, it was very real all the same. "No need to apologize," she assured him. "I'm just a little jumpy these days, I suppose."

"Fair 'nough," replied the elderly gentleman with a grave nod, his teeth disappearing behind a tightlipped frown. "These are dangerous times to be traveling. Back when I was a younger man, things were different. But now, it's not safe for a little lady like yourself to be roving the countryside."

From anyone else, a comment such at that would have elicited a much angrier, and perhaps more violent, response from the brown-haired traveler. The "little lady" bit was exceptionally grating, considering the stranger stood nearly a full inch shorter than she did, and that was saying something considering her small stature. But something kept the young woman's emotions in check. Perhaps it was the shimmering sunlight that filtered through the sparse, whispy clouds to bathe her in warm light, or the pots of flowers that dotted the town's center and filled the air with the rich aroma of spring. Or, it was merely the real look of concern that she found in the man's gaze, in those eyes that hid nothing and revealed everything. Whatever it was, the woman simply shook her head once more, her smile never faltering.

"I'm quite alright. I'm heading to Radasanth." Then, she added, "I'm meeting friends there," which was not within itself a complete lie; it was likely that she would run into a Tarot member while exploring the big city.

Her words seemed to calm the town native, whose smile returned, bigger and brighter than ever. "'Right then," he announced, nodding to emphasize his approval. "That's good. But for now, why don't ya stay a bit? I'll show ya 'round." The old man extended an arm, which the woman accepted with a gracious murmur of thanks. "The name's Wellington. Who might you be"

Is that his first name, or his last name? "I'm Rayleigh Aston," she answered, providing both just to be safe.

"Well, Miss Aston, are you familiar with the history of our fair town?" His voice swelled with pride, the way a parent might boast about his child's accomplishments.

"I'm afraid not." She worried that she might offended the old man, but his grin only grew at her answer.

"That's fine! I'll give ya the brief history lesson."

Brief, it seemed, was a relative term. For the next hour, Wellington led Rayleigh through over hundreds of years of history, beginning with the arrival of Elias Canton, and ending with the recent rebuild of the town. A civil war had caused great destruction, leaving broken buildings and a crumbling community in its wake. Those who survived the onslaught swore to create a happier, safe place to live.

"Since then," the snowy-haired man finished, "we've been very successful. This is a very unique place to live, and we are just gearing up for our first real tourist season."

"How exciting," came the young woman's answer, an honest, happy glow adorning her freckle-splattered cheeks. Rayleigh wanted to learn as much as she could about Althanas, and this man's personal stories had taught her far more than a book ever could have.

"Aye," Wellington agreed, "it is. This place has a special charm to it. It just makes people happy."

"Mhmm." The town held a sort of magic that she could not quite put her finger on. Regardless, it was a place she could absolutely see herself settling down in. Maybe set up a shop here. Have a fresh new start.

She turned back to him, and with a smile, added, "whatever it is, it certainly is contagious."

Wellington, satisfied with the reaction of his new pupil, began to lead her toward the inn. "Its getting warm. Why don't we find some shade and something to drink? The sun is hard on this old man's bones."

Leaving the pleasant town square behind them, the pair moved into the cool chill of the nearest building.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I sat cross-legged near the foot of the bed, shifting my weight every few moments in a vain attempt to get comfortable. Spread out on the wool blanket covering the mattress were several dozen sheets of paper--neat stacks with my own handwritten notes, several pages torn from bulk-printed medical manuals, copies of drawings taken from tomes with a darker nature.

Before me were a collection of writings that would spell the doom and salvation of Canton's Font. And it all be for the sake of my research.

A small blue glow emitted from the curved stone I had been playing with absentmindedly. A tinny voice with a heavy lisp rang from it as the glow intensified. "Madison? Are you there?"

I raised the stone closer to my face, keeping my voice down out of caution. "Yes, Diggs. What's up?"

"The caravan is about a day's ride away from the town. We picked up enough supplies in Underwood to craft the amount of medicine you specified in your plans. Sh-should we continue at our pace?"

I leaned over and snatched up a piece of paper littered with my own rough handwriting. I gave it a quick scan before I found the information I was looking for. "No, you should stop for a night or two. It's going to take a day for the infection to really take hold. I want to see how quickly it spreads and what the most common symptoms are before you come swooping in with a miracle cure."

There was a pause at the other end of the link. The soft blue glow dimmed for a brief second as Diggs relayed the order to his small company of Crimson Hands. "Is there anything you want us doing while we wait?"

I looked up, gazing through the window at the midday sun while I thought. This was a delicate operation--no, not operation; experiment. While my research itself was very important, just as important was making sure that Diggs and company arrived just at the right time, with the right tools ready. If they showed up too early, then the whole thing could appear a little too convenient and suspicious. If they arrived too late, then there was the chance that the majority of Canton's Font's citizens could be beyond saving.

That would be unfortunate; but it wouldn't have been my first experiment that didn't go as planned.

"Start preparing the medicine," I said at last. "I left the alchemic recipe in the ingredients chest. Everything you need should be in there. Don't make too much; just two or three dozen antidotes to start. That should be enough for when you first arrive. Once you get here and people start throwing gold at you for treatment, you can make more. We don't want to seem too prepared, just in case someone here gets wise to the experiment."

"Good idea," came the lispy reply. "I'll let Michel and Samson know to begin."

"Excellent. I'll contact you tomorrow afternoon, and we'll go from there. I'm going to remain in town and wait for the first reports of people succumbing to illness. I still have more observations to make, since this is the first field test of the disease."

"Take care," Diggs said before the stone's glow faded away into a shade of slate grey.

I tossed the rock onto a tattered, yellowed sheet ripped out of an old book and sighed. Field tests were always risky propositions. There was the off-chance that I had miscalculated something, the ever-present risk of being discovered, and a million other things that could go wrong. I was never a fan of taking big chances like this; but it was all in the name of research. I had created a horrible new plauge in my laboratory. Initial tests were extremely encouraging--but I needed to see how it fared in an uncontrolled environment such as this little town.

Sure, a few people were probably going to die horrible, slow, painful deaths; but they would be dying for a cause... For science.

Can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, right?

I stood up from my perch at the edge of the lumpy bed, gathered all of my papers and the communication stone up, and threw them in the locked chest against the wall. I slipped the key in my pocket, and left my room to go downstairs for a quick bite to eat before an afternoon stroll through the town that had no idea was it was about to be put through.