Quest for the Lyre of Orphaeo

[Breaker]

Josh sat cross-legged with his back straight and hands clasped loosely around his ankles, enjoying Philomel's presence as much as the night breeze. Her movements showed a practiced grace, from the way she unrolled her bedroll to the pensive purse of her lips. She smelled like only a beautiful woman could smell, and her soft actions told Breaker that she was schooled in the art of seduction. Under any other circumstance he would have allowed the natural attraction to draw him to her, but they had many things to attend to, and his own carnal appetite did not make the list.

"I am a fighter," he said after the faun finished speaking, and the words reminded him of the first time he met Suravani. He smiled, dimpling the Y-shaped scars on his cheeks. "And a lover, and a seeker of adventure." He had said the same thing to Suravani when first she graced him with her presence. It seemed appropriate to explain himself to this daughter of Drys in the same manner. His smile broadened as he stood swiftly and strode a few paces away, to stand in the center of the soul blossom patch. "And I have been called a sorcerer by some I faced in combat." He raised both hands in a wide arc and brought them together in front of his chest, palms pressed in prayer. "The Eternal Tap flows through me, as it does all things, and I have learned to harness its power."

Breaker splayed his palms suddenly, and water rose from his bare hands as if bidden from two natural springs. The twin streams criss-crossed and entwined like wrestling serpents, catching rays of moonlight and making the entire meadow glow. Breaker plucked soul blossoms from where they grew and introduced the blue-purple flowers into the writhing waters. The blossoms blended with the water, becoming one with the liquid and coloring it a deep violet. Contained within the petals, Drys' love lent strength and wisdom to the water. Suravani's light lent grace and power as it too was imbued in the liquid. Lastly Josh poured in a measure of his own brand of magic, and then one droplet at a time, the writhing water froze.

The water became molten ice, and shaped slowly into the form of a hooded cloak, suspended in the air. Josh reached out and grasped it with both hands. It was warm to touch, made so by Drys' love. It was light as silk, made so by Suravani's brilliance. It was strong as steel, made so by Breaker's might. And yet it fluttered in the wind like any fabric, as soft and fragrant as the Fealotë blended within. Josh folded the cloak neatly and plucked a final soul blossom from the patch, and then strode back to Philomel and sat facing the faun.

"This will keep you warmer than wool," he said, presenting the folded cloak, "as safe as a suit of steel armor, and yet as mobile as if it were silk." He reached out and tucked the final soul blossom behind a strand of Philomel's violet hair. Its dyed color matched the cloak well. "And all without compromising your beauty," Breaker remarked. He stroked his stubbled chin with callused fingers.

"It is a small thing, to protect you against the perils we are sure to face," Josh said, and flexed his powerful hands. "But that, so Suravani says, is my part in Drys' plan."