Uncle's visit

"A stranger was looking for you," said Bump as Alex and I entered the Jolly Roger.

Wow! He could talk! I thought about telling Doro to give him a raise.

"Who was he? What did he want?" I asked in turn. 

The bouncer looked confused. 

"Well... I... I didn't ask him."

No, that was a bad idea about his salary. People often looked for me. Was it so complicated for Bump to ask them why?

"What did he look like?" I asked, not hoping for an answer. 

Bump opened his mouth and spread his hands wide, trying to describe the stranger. But just then, the door behind my back opened and the bouncer happily pointed to the visitor, "That's him!"

I turned quickly and bumped nose-to-nose with a visitor.

"You're a bit twitchy, nephew," my uncle greeted me. 

He looked just the same as I remembered him: thin and tall, with short gray hair and a wrinkled face. His gray drilling eyes behind the glasses seemed to see right through me. 

"Uncle Vlad!" I exclaimed happily. "This is really unexpected!"

My uncle snorted, patted me on the shoulder, and turned his eyes to my satellite. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Teimur?" he asked. 

Alex was no less surprised. 

"Did you know my father?" he inquired.

I cleared my throat and introduced them, "This is Alexander Sa-Maste of Irrates. And this is my uncle Vlad Igan, head of the Lace Patrol Department."

They shook hands and then Alex repeated his question, "Did you really know my father?"

"I did," my uncle nodded, staring at the prince with a curious expression, " Teimur was once Irrat's representative in the Coordinating Council. That was before Mabert broke with the Council. "

"I think he had his reasons," the prince said arrogantly.

My uncle said nothing to this. I offered them lunch and pushed them both to the free table in the corner. 

"You look a lot like your father, Alexander," my uncle said as we began to eat. "Teimur was a little shorter and had no beard. Actually, I think you were told about that."

Alex nodded. 

"Unfortunately, I can only compare myself to the ceremonial portrait of my father," he remarked. "He died before I was born. Tell me, Colonel Igan, did you know him well?"

"We weren't friends," my uncle replied, sipping some garien, a sour drink made from local berries, similar to rose hips. It was used here instead of water. "We crossed paths a lot at work, but that's all. Besides, he broke my nose once ."

"Why?" the prince and I exhaled together.

"Nothing special. I was young and stupid and he was the Prince of Irrat."

Alex smiled. "You're the first to talk about him as if he were alive, man. All I hear back home is ‘the hero, the defender of honor’... That was in the past," Alex sighed and stood up. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but I'm really tired."

My uncle saw the prince off with a frown and turned to me.

"I hope he is like his father only in appearance," he said angrily. "Teimur was such a bastard!"

I was stunned and couldn't find a word to reply.

"Have you finished eating?" My uncle stood up as well. "Come on! Let's go for a walk."

***

After walking along the winding and dirty streets of the city, we finally reached the harbor. Several fishing boats bobbed at the pier, and a cold wind from the sea blew clouds of salt spray in our faces. I zipped up my jacket and lifted my collar, and my uncle wrapped himself in his cloak. I'd rather have turned back to the Jolly Roger, but my uncle was walking determinedly toward the pier, so I had no choice but to follow.

We stood side by side, looking out at the lead-gray waves. I shivered: it was really cold. 

"When did you return to the service?" he asked. 

"About a year ago," I replied in surprise. "Did Parsel tell you himself?"

"He did," my uncle nodded. "You disappeared somewhere, and your boss decided to make discreet inquiries."

"Is that why you're here?" I asked, deeply touched by his unexpected concern.

He shrugged.  

"I was worried," he said after a pause. "Norn is too dangerous. And all those disasters in Irrat…"

"How did you know?"

"We have our people in the Court," he explained. "No matter what the Sa-Maste think, the Coordinators need to be kept informed."

"Indeed," I snorted, "how can we get along without the Coordinators? By the way, have these people of yours informed you that Norn and the Faceless Destroyer are the same person?"

"Are you sure?" He seemed surprised. 

"Absolutely. He is also known as Walter Haighwerg, the nephew of the late King Mabert." I thought for a minute and added, "And he is also Mara’s father. Do you remember her?"

"Is that true?" Uncle grabbed my sleeve and turned me to face him. 

"That’s what Alex said. I guess he had no reason to lie," I replied, not understanding why my uncle was so concerned. It seemed like the name Haighwerg meant something to him. 

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"No, of course not," he said quickly and turned away, "but it looks odd."

"Perhaps," I nodded. "Would you please pass this information on to Parsel?"

"Can't you do it yourself?" he asked, still looking sideways.

"No, I have other plans."

"Would you tell me?" he said with a sigh. 

"Nope."

"Okay," he shrugged. "Let's go. I don't want to catch a cold."

So we walked away. 

"Your plans are written all over your face," my uncle stated after a while. "Are you going to perform another heroic deed? Like stopping the Faceless One and saving the universe?"

I glanced at him angrily and didn't answer.

"Don't tell me, I can see for myself, " he went on. "I have found you in the company of the last of the Sa-Maste clan, and all he could think of was revenge. Besides, this blade," he pointed at my sword, " is Helyswort, isn't it?"

"It is."

My uncle sighed again. 

"I understand everything, my boy. You think it's your duty to save the Lace. Of course, Archie the Fearless, who has done so many heroic deeds, can't stand aside!"

"That's not the point," I objected.

"Really?"

"Norn set me up!" I admitted reluctantly. "He sent me to the Rock of Heroes, knowing that I was the one who could get the sword, that Helyswort was meant for me. And then he hired assassins to kill me. I have a personal score to settle with him."

"Is that all?" 

"Isn’t it enough? Well, besides, I like the Lace and I don't want it destroyed."

"Then let the Coordinators handle the problem!"

"What good would that do?" I replied with a grimace. " Neither diplomacy nor force can help to deal with this. It’s a job for a lone nut."

"You're right about the ’nut’…" My uncle put his hand on my shoulder. "Arthur, I beg you, stay away from Irrat and anything to do with it. Believe me, this is not about your safety, even though your adventures have added a few gray hairs to my head. After all, you are an adult and on your own."

"You’ve finally noticed that!"

"Don't be sarcastic!" The uncle got angry. "The situation is really explosive!"

"I know."

"No, you don't!" he exclaimed. "The Faceless One has unleashed the ancient powers, the Guardians of the Shield are defeated, and this stupid piece of iron couldn't find a less crazy owner!"

"What does it mean?"

"It means you have nothing to do with the Edge, damn it!" he yelled.

"I don't see the connection."

"I'll make it simple: the problem of Irrat and the Destroyer will remain their local problem until a third force intervenes. But if you bring this new toy of yours to the Edge, there will be a catastrophe!"

"Explain yourself!" I yelled in turn.

"Not now," he said. "Just stay away from Irrat."

He waved his hand and stepped aside. The outline of his body began to glow. 

"Uncle! Wait!"

He didn't answer and disappeared into the Lace.

I burst into a torrent of curses, choking with rage from powerlessness and unawareness. That son of a bitch! That bastard! No curse was appropriate enough to express my feelings. What it was, for all the gods’ sake?!

I waved my hand and walked back to the Jolly Roger. 

***

But that day's surprises were not yet over. 

To shorten the way, I walked straight through the courtyards. The locals, used to everything, paid no attention to me. I didn't look at them either. I was thoughtful and let my feet find the way by themselves. 

I didn't understand where she came from. The girl was small and slender, and she stood in my way, her hand outstretched imperiously, ordering me to stop. 

The top of the girl's head barely reached my elbow, and she was wrapped in a long, raspberry-colored cloak covered with unknown symbols. She had crimson hair and black eyes as deep as the night sky. The colorful tattoo on her forehead meant that the girl belonged to the Swillann clan.

I knelt down, as the custom required, and said, "I listen to you, O wisest one!"

The Swillanns were clairvoyants and healers, they roamed the Lace giving help to all who needed it. No one had ever seen men of this clan, no one knew which world of the Lace was their home. They were revered and worshiped, and their opinions were listened to by the Supreme Coordinator himself. They were said to be able to see the future, but they never prophesied on demand. They themselves chose to whom they gave their gift, and it couldn’t be refused.

Unfortunately, I didn't want to know the future that day . 

Her thin fingers rested on my head. 

"Look into my eyes, knight!"

I obeyed. 

"You are having a hard time," Swillann said with sadness in her voice, "you have too much on your heart. Three battles await you: with an enemy, with a friend, and with yourself. The outcome of none of them is predetermined. The Great Rift will take you where you never hoped to go and give you everything you dream of. Do not rejoice, for you will lose it all again. There will be a day and there will be a night, and the full moon will reflect on the water, and midnight will remove the masks. In the hour of the last battle you will know the truth. The sword given to you by the Great Master will guide you, and the prophecy will come true. But even the Great Master will not guess the cards of fate. So go on, wanderer, but remember your duty. "

I was still on my knees. I wanted to say, to ask... But

the raspberry cloak flashed before my eyes and the Swillann disappeared. 

The rest was silence.