An Ocean of Lies (AFOS II)

Chapter 3: Jo

"I've heard of The Tempest," Alaric said. Apparently, she was the only one who had no idea what in the Creator's name was going on there. She looked at them, pretending to know, but failed. "I've read the works of a couple of nutty scholars making wild connection theories between with princess Thilde, my, sis-ter— that's a strange word— and the Tempest. But hear me out: it could be a lie. Both of their stories could be lies. I hope at least the Tempest's stories are all lies, if you ask me, have you heard what they say about her? She eats her enemies' hearts while they're still alive, for starters, and it only gets worse. As if it could get any worse than that, right? But apparently, it can, by Ontur's toes. I wouldn't want to meet her, no matter how related we might be. It could all go from brotherly hugs to it's nice to, quite literally, have you for dinner." He laughed nervously. Jo played with his fingers from across the bed. His palms were sweaty.

What wasn't a lie, lately? The stories about the Tempest could be fake as well, just as easily. But, what if Laurentius was right? Why would they keep lies in the College of Magi, didn't people go to learn there? But what would she know, the closest she had to an education was that little corner table in her grandmother's inn, away from the village's one-grade-serves-all school where the kids learned absolutely nothing of use, in her grandmother's words. Next to Alaric and Laurentius, she was practically illiterate. And Wyn? She was something else altogether, there was no use comparing herself to the little girl: she was a savant. Jo hated feeling small and stupid. She was smart, in different ways, sometimes better ways, but she hated it. But what her grandma taught her couldn't be taught in schools: reading people, her surroundings, being alert. Her instincts were honed to perfection, her self-preservation muscle acted on reflex— unless it didn't. Sometimes doing the right thing meant threatening it all. Her risks were highly calculated, even if subconsciously so. Assuming they were, in fact, one and the same, was going after a dangerous woman-turned legend the wise thing to do? If even just one of the things they said about her turned out to be true, was it worth dying in the process? Her gut told her no. Saving Alaric, again, was more important than saving the kingdom. If he died trying to find her, Laverna and Volstad would get what they wanted anyway. But it wasn't her decision to make. She had decided to risk her life back in the forest, Alaric could decide to risk his own. She could only help and hope for the best.

"But there are so many accounts! So many similarities. Their ages, for one. The first sightings happened only a few years after the princess' disappearance. The first magical occurrences in the fog ocean, that incident, near the coast of Fonterra where that magical fire still burns today? They say it was The Tempest. It could be Thilde, it fits her personality, and they say she was a powerful mage no? From what I read—"

"Historians can be biased. Look, Laurentius, no offense, but you spent two hours in a library: I've spent my whole life reading history. I've cross-referenced books, many, many times. None has ever actually seen the Tempest, people tell tales about her. She's two and a half meters tall, her hair is like fire, her skin is dark like night, her hands are made of axes, she's a mage, she's actually one and a half meters, she's missing a leg and has dragon wings. As for Thilde, as you must know some were jealous of the princess, especially scorned suitors who didn't get their gold back, nobody likes to get their asses kicked in public and then get sent home: hey, goodbye! I'm keeping your pride and your gold too, nice meeting you! Hah! The events were public, she dueled them in the arena in the palace. Some books say she was mad. Maybe she was exiled, maybe she faked her death, maybe she was killed by the skaldjaaar, maybe she joined them. There's no way to know, really. We could've asked Gerard or the King, but they're both dead, as you well know."

"But it's a possibility," Laurentius said, standing up. "Even if they're exaggerating, they could both be the same person."

"Perhaps. I mean, maybe she's not even a person, maybe she's an idea, but we can meet her embodiment. The Tempest is a legend at this point, and creators know she grows more powerful and terrifying each passing day," Alaric stood up too. "Like I said, last thing I heard she did blood magic rituals with her prisoners, then feasted on their flesh," he shivered. "Maybe they, as a people, do it. Maybe the Tempest is a figure they created to scare us, something big, goddess-like. Maybe the last bit is true as well, but they do none of those things. Propaganda works both ways, I suppose." Jo felt her cheeks flushing. She liked listening to him talking like that. "Maybe we'll go chasing the Tempest and miss my sister entirely. We need to focus on facts, not speculation."