Under the light of the stars and the incredible fireworks in the sky, we made our way back to the spot we had used three nights back to rest. As we reached it, we saw that it was still as we left it - no new snow or anything, and there was even some firewood left.
As I was a little steadier on my feet than Sigmir, I went to gather more firewood, while she got a fire going. Our dinner was made out of dried meat and hard bread; neither of us had the strength left to cook something up, or the ingredients for that matter.
The night, we spent once more snuggled together under a sky full of stars, watching the shooting stars go by. It looked impressive and remembering my own ride down, I had a fond smile on my face. How great it must be for Lenore, to soar through the sky as she pleases?
I'm not sure if it was because we both were severed from the Astral, but for the first time, Lenore and I shared dreams that night. The dreams of flying, riding the wind made me yearn for wings of my own and the dreams of dreary school-buildings, built out of cold stone, filled with uncaring people, living their own lives filled me with a profound sense of loneliness, so deep that I woke with tears streaming down my face. I knew that I had never cared about being alone, so why was the dream hitting me so hard? Why was Sigmir's presence so soothing to me? Not knowing how to answer either question, I buried myself deeper into her arms, taking in her smell and warmth, simply enjoying the knowledge that I was not alone. I almost felt Lenore's wings settling around my shoulders in an clumsy embrace as she sent me feelings of companionship as well, trying to soothe my racing mind. The combination worked and I fell back asleep and this time, there were only happy dreams of flying, of Sigmir and of Ylva. Feeling content, I fell back into a deep sleep.
Morning came and with it the moaning and groaning of Sigmir, Ylva and me as we stretched our abused muscles. I was best off, I only suffered slightly - my exhaustion had been mostly mental - but Sigmir paid for the strain the combination of Ylva's skill, Sigmir's aura and my magic had placed upon her body. Intellectually I knew that it had been necessary but I felt bad seeing her like that.
I made her lay back down and tried as best as I could to massage the knots out of her muscles. I had never done it so I was not sure how well it worked but the stroking, caressing and fondling made Sigmir definitely feel good, going by the happy noises she was making.
But if possible, I wanted to sleep in a bed tonight so we started making our way back to Neyto. On the way back, I felt just how badly I relied on my magic in this world; we were attacked, and using my blades felt clumsy, as if I had used Ice Magic every time before, giving me better control and strength. With Sigmir in her overdrawn condition, it must have been a sight to see us fighting. Even enemies ten or more levels below us became dangerous opponents that we had to take seriously in order to prevent injury. Luckily, there were only a few beings that attacked us, so we made adequate time, and fighting completely without Astral Power gave me an insight how much it did within my body. On a positive side, I gained five skill-points in my Dual-Blade Mastery; purely physical fighting had improved the skill a lot.
We stumbled into the crystal forest surrounding the elemental nexus shortly after dark. Knocking on Kallista's door was the next step and when she saw us in our exhausted condition, she instantly pulled us inside and gave both of us a hug.
She greeted us with “Welcome back. You managed your task, right? I'm glad, it would have been sad to see two stars so bright burn out so early.”
I felt her gaze upon me and there was a slight tickling at the edge of my consciousness making me frown.
“Oh, you felt that? Remember the feeling, that's what it feels if someone who's proficient with Observe uses it on you. Looks like both of you profited tremendously from going into the Barrow Den but had quite the struggle. Now, my friends and guests don't run around looking like bums that lost a brawl with a thornbush. Your clothes are ripped and torn every which way. Can you take care of that, or do you want me to?” She looked at me expectantly.
“You mean fix the clothes? I have no idea how, to be honest.” After my admission, she shook her head, muttering, “What do they teach children these days? Oh, right, Traveller.”
She stuck her hand in her waist-pouch and took a hand of small rocks out and started murmuring under her breath and making strange gestures with her free hand. Those didn't look like the runes I did and didn't leave any glowing lights behind. Just before I wanted to ask what she was doing, the hand with the rocks and my clothes started to glow with a grey light and all the small damages were flowing back together as if they'd never existed in the first place. Seeing my surprised expression, her hand flew up, stopping me from speaking. She repeated the procedure with Sigmir and her clothes were mended as well. In addition, every small stain was gone, as if the clothes had just been expertly laundered.
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“Now you look acceptable. Take a seat and tell me, which souls did you have to face?” She asked with a happy smile and started rummaging around in her kitchen.
Sigmir and I took seats at her table, close to the fire, trying to get some warmth into our bones. I had never felt as cold in this world as today.
“Thank you, could you teach me how to do that? It seems like a very useful skill to have.” I asked her.
“I don't think so. You use runes to use your magic, don't you? My way would not work for you.” She answered.
Slightly disappointed, I started my tale of the dungeon, curious what Kallista would tell us about it, now that we had seen it. The tale of the Schandmaul was still on my mind, someone who had done tasks for the Grandmother and ended up within a dungeon.
While I told my tale, Kallista supplied us first with hot tea and just as I finished, with a scrumptious dinner, as if she had planned the timing. With me silenced due to a full mouth, Kallista sat down, prepared herself a cup of tea and started a tale on her own.
“Now, both of you know that the Grandmother is mostly doing as she pleases. What you need to understand is that she is old. And I don't mean 'Old for a mortal' I mean 'Old, even in comparison to the world'. She wandered the world for millennia and finally settled down here, creating Neyto and taking control of the Nexus. During the time she wandered the world, she encountered many things and some people made her angry to the point that she used her powers to entrap their souls.
When she came here, the presence of those souls would have disturbed the Nexus and the workings around it causing great harm, so she created the Barrow Den to put those souls to use, imprisoning them within a created dungeon and supplying it with her own powers. From time to time, one of those who ask for her help, make an request so self-serving, so preposterous, that she sends them on a journey of self-discovery. Others attack her and try to kill her or those she granted sanctuary. In both cases, chances are that she takes their soul and buries them in the Barrow Den so they have a use in the afterlife.
Due to that, she is able to control who goes into the Den and if someone tries to enter it without her permission, only their gods can save them. And even they would have problems.
So yes, the Schandmaul took tasks to gain an enslavement-spell from the Grandmother. She wanted him to understand that, if you needed magic to make someone love you, it was not meant to be and that he should use his own wit and grit to win his girl's heart. I mean, someone who is resolute enough to steal from the gods themselves should be able to charm a girl, shouldn't he?
Well, he was so narrow-minded that he never looked at himself and realised that there was no need for magic so when the Grandmother turned him away, he attacked her and got tossed into the den with his precious gains.
The Snowqueen is a more tragic tale. You see, long ago, there was a beautiful princess, betrothed to the prince of a nearby kingdom. However, the prince was given a cursed dagger by his enemies and the curse drove him mad, killing his princess out of jealousy. Sadly, that was not all. After he saw what he did, he was freed of the curse but the madness remained. He used his own life and soul to fuel a great spellworking, trying to atone for his sins and resurrect the princess. However, he was no skilled mage and while there is power in madness, there is no skill in madness. His spell worked to a point; it took his own life, his soul and all the lives in the castle to fuel his insane working. The result was that the soul of the princess was ripped from the cycle, bound to this world together with all the souls in the castle. The city turned into a necropolis with undead roaming the streets and the undead princess, now sitting on the throne as queen looking for her prince and using magic to subdue any man unlucky enough to stumble into her realm. The concentration of undead energies caused the land to die and the harm spread out, slowly but surely like a disease.
Without some similarly strong power-source, there was no breaking the spell, so the Grandmother did the next best thing and took all the souls there and bound them to the dungeon, containing them within. Sometime in the future, they will fade from this world and have peace at last.
The last one you encountered, the Knight Mannelig, was an especially vile customer. You see, a young troll-maiden fell in love with the lout and wanted to marry him. As she was no great beauty, she used everything she could to provide a great dowry to entice the knight. Well, the Knight took the dowry and then claimed that he'd never marry her, for she was a barbaric heathen and not worthy of him. The troll-maiden killed herself in anguish and when the Grandmother heard it, she felt that the knight should pay for his callousness, so she ripped his soul out and he will stay in the barrow-den until his soul is lost. To mock him, the only weapon he is able to use is the blade given to him by the troll-maiden. There are more souls in the Barrow Den but the Grandmother decided that three would be the right number of floors to serve as a trial.
When you continue your journey, you should remember that the trials are not only trials of combat, they are trials of character. Only the Barrow Den serves as a test of might, the other trials are different.”
During Kallista's tale, Sigmir and I had been busy listening and feasting at the same time so now we had to digest first, both the tale and the meal. It felt strange that the punishment was the same for those who actually did something as for those who had been the victims. But I guess it was a case of waste not, want not. Sure, simply destroying the souls might have been kinder but in my eyes, now they at least served a purpose and were not simply wasted. And thinking further, I was unsure if it was even possible to destroy them, considering that I was carrying around a soul that a God had sealed and left to perish. So who knew what was actually possible in that regard.
With the dinner done, Sigmir and I excused ourselves and went to visit Kallista's bath once more. While there was definitely lust in the air, my headache had resurfaced over the course of the day and Sigmir was still hurting from her overexertion during the fight, so we had to be satisfied with lovingly washing each other. Both of us were a lot more relaxed when we returned to our room and I tried again to massage Sigmir, this time with the benefit of a comfy bed for her and a warm room so I could take my time. I'm not sure who enjoyed it more, me caressing her muscles, feeling the strength within or her having it done. The combination of the warm bath and the massage soon managed to put her into a deep sleep and when I felt that there were no more tense spots, I cuddled up to her and went to sleep.