just going to have to take a more forceful approach with the Order."
"We may have to anyway," she returned thoughtfully.
"We'll discuss that tomorrow. It's well past lunch time. Council is dismissed," he snapped.
"Eliora," Jomei said to her a low voice as they filed out of the cottage, "can you do this?"
"I have no idea, frankly. I know what needs to be done. I need a distinctive mark that's invisible unless the bearer wants it to be visible."
"This is going to be complicated, if it's even possible."
"I know, I know. But I've done a lot of things since the equinox without a clear idea of how to actually get them done."
"Yes, but you have to do this to actual living people," he reminded her earnestly.
"Oh, dear. You're absolutely right. Should I try to get into a mage library or something?"
"I don't know. You'd have to clear that with the Council, and that would take more time, and run the risk of someone spotting you."
"Then I'll just have to figure this out on my own. And find some very brave volunteers."
"I'm sure the young men would line up at your door to prove their worth by doing something dangerous," he replied.
She gave him an odd look. "You're teasing me," she accused.
"I do have a sense of humor. Even if this may not be the best time for it. This is deadly serious. You are going to try to impart a permanent magical mark to a living person. I just want you to be fully aware of that, alright?"
She nodded.
"Good luck, then," he said. "I'm not sure which will be more difficult – figuring out how to do this magic, or getting the Council to agree on what the mark should look like without getting upset and angry at me."
She smiled. "How about I just tell them what it's going to be?"
"You're a braver person than I am," he returned, smiling slightly. With that, he went to his own cottage.
She had a late lunch and cut her fighting practice short to go study what few books she had on arcane magic. She knew she wouldn't find anything specific, but she was hoping to get a better idea of how magic actually worked. She ate a fast dinner and returned to her books. Finally she got so frustrated she decided to take a break, and went to the unused watchtower.
No one was there. She swept the snow off and sat down, pulling her cloak around her to block the wind, even though she wasn't cold.
"What're you thinking about?" came Davin's voice suddenly, sometime later.
She jumped. "Oh, just working on a magic problem."
He sat down next to her. "Magic problem? Anything I can help with?"
"Maybe. I'm going to need volunteers."
"Volunteers for what?"
She briefly explained the purpose of the marks. He seemed to have already heard something about the idea, which didn't surprise her given how fast gossip traveled in the community.
"So the Order of Light won't help?" he asked bitterly.
"They will, they just need certain guarantees."
"Sounds like they're just making you jump through hoops."
"I'm not familiar with that expression."
"It means, they're making you do a lot of things to waste time for no good reason."
"I'm sure they will help," she sighed. "I suppose they're just frightened and confused."
"They're supposed to be the spiritual leaders," he returned bitterly.
"They're just people too, Davin. The quality of a person is often shown most clearly in times of distress, not times of peace. Like most bureaucracies, I'm afraid the Order has become complacent. They'll resist changes and try to avoid hardship to maintain their complacency."
"I'm continually amazed at how forgiving you are."
"I'm not completely forgiving. I understand their reluctance, but I'm not going to accept it. This is too important, and I think the clerics themselves are aware of that, even if they don't want to act."
"Instead leaving a bunch of reckless young men and some stubborn old men to try to figure out how to stop the ShadowWalker," he replied, still bitter.
"You forgot to mention the young foreign woman," she commented dryly.
He half-smiled. "How could I forget her? She's got to lead this motley band of troops."
"A task I embrace most unwillingly. But what choice do I have?"
"None, it seems," he agreed.
They stared at the cold, clear sky for a few minutes.
"Why do you have a, what's the word, tattoo?" he asked.
"Has everyone heard about that?"
"It's an odd thing. You know how the rumor mill is."
"Tattoos are a tradition among my people. When a child is three years old, they receive a tattoo on the upper right arm. The tattoo contains their personal name and their family name. It started as a way to unify tribes, and to make sure families didn't marry too closely. When my people settled in cities, the tradition remained."
"So this isn't a strange thing in your society?"
She laughed. "No, of course not. Every child has one. Married people have two."
"Why two?" he asked, looking interested.
"It goes on the left arm, in the same spot. Again, when my people were mostly nomads, women left their families to join the families of their husbands. So they got a new tattoo to show that they were accepted as part of the new tribe. The one on the left arm has their new family name. Men have one on their left arm to show that they've taken on the responsibility of starting a new family, a new branch of the tribe."
"I suppose something permanent and obvious like that also makes sure the spouses can't cheat on each other?"
She nodded.
"I hope this isn't offensive, but can I see this tattoo? I'm really curious."
She blushed a little. "Alright, I guess. It's odd to me for everyone to be so curious about something that's absolutely normal for me." She shoved her sleeve up some difficulty due to the extra layers of clothing and held her arm to the lamplight. The black marks showed up starkly even against her dark brown skin.
"That's really fascinating," he said, turning her arm gently this way and that. "Alright, pull that down before you catch cold."
She did so.
"Is that writing?"
"It's an older version of our common language."
"What does it say?"
She pulled her sleeve back up. "This is my name," she explained, pointing. "This is my family name."
"That's looks like an awful lot of ink just to spell out your name."
"Spelling out my name would be smaller, yes, but this also spells out the meaning of my name," she replied.
"Meaning?"
"Yes. Names are chosen very carefully in my society, and all names have a specific meaning assigned to them, sometimes many meanings. After all, people are first known by their names. Your society doesn't do this?"
"Not that I'm aware of. What does your name mean?"
She considered this request rather more carefully than she might have otherwise because of the attention she was being shown by the young men of the city. However, Davin had always treated her on his own terms, and that hadn't changed as far as she could tell since the solstice. "Well, first of all, it means 'daughter of Lior.'"
"Lior is your father?"
She nodded. "Generally the first child is named after the father. My name also means," she paused for a moment to work out the proper translation, "'she who walks in golden sunlight.'"
He gave her odd look.
"Yes, it's supposed to sound a bit poetic. 'She who walks in golden sunlight,' 'song like falling summer rain,' and 'child of hope.' The last one was added at the insistence of the church, now that I think about it. How strange."
"They all seem to fit, I think," he remarked. "Thank you for telling me."
"You're the first one to ask, although I expect Jomei may later once we work out this business of magical marks."
"You should have no trouble
finding volunteers."
She gave him a curious look. "Does that mean you'd volunteer, or you think the other young men will volunteer?"
"Oh, they’ll volunteer, and probably fall all over each other to be first in line. Haven't you noticed?" he asked, sounding a little impatient.
"Of course," she answered in a quiet voice. "I'm not oblivious. I just don't know what to do about it. I can already feel tensions starting to increase, and I don't want to get between anyone's friendships. Right now, I'm just ignoring it as best I can and treating everyone the same."
"Sounds like the only way to keep the peace," he agreed. "But it isn't going to last."
"No, but if things go well, the young men will be sent to other cities to gather information for the Hunters, and that should relieve the tensions somewhat."
"I suppose it would. Most would jump at a chance to show their worth as a warrior for the forces of Light, and a way to impress you besides," he replied, bitterness creeping into his voice again.
"They made their choices. And I hope they don't make this choice because of some desire to impress me. This is dangerous and deadly serious."
Silence elapsed for nearly an hour as Eliora half-meditated on the problem.
"We should go in. I'm cold, which means it's late," he suddenly said.
"I suppose you're right."
She went first, still cautious about going down. He put out the lamp and scrambled down in near total darkness.
"When you think you've worked out this mark business, let me know."
"You'll be a volunteer?" she asked, a little surprised.
"If the priest won't do it. I think there might be trouble if you asked anyone else. But no one bothers with me or where I go, so you could do what you needed in relatively secrecy," he replied, sounding perfectly cool and casual.
"Well, thank you."
He smiled.