As far as Serenity could tell, the enchantment on the rope binding his hands was simply to make it sturdier. He’d checked and that was all he could see. :I seem to be fine. I can get out of this whenever I want to; it’s strong, but that’s all. Nothing to stop shapeshifting.:
:Good.: Rissa sounded worried. :I hate that you have to do this. Surely there’s another way out of this situation?:
:Not without fighting,: Serenity disagreed. :I’d prefer to avoid that if possible; so far, the dryads have been very cautious and calm. I don’t like what they’re doing but it’s still extremely reasonable compared to a lot of what I’ve seen.:
:If this is reasonable, I don’t know what you saw in the future that didn’t happen.: Rissa paused, then admitted softly, :I don’t think I want to know.:
:That’s probably for the best,: Serenity agreed. :I’m not planning to try to change anything quickly. Maybe some of it will change eventually but … I don’t know. I … what I really want to know is how we could have avoided this landmine and how we can avoid it in the future. I don’t want to go back to being careful about what worlds I visit, it’s …. Not fun.: Serenity didn’t really want to admit just how “not fun” it could get, especially since Rissa didn’t want to know, but he couldn’t help some memories from trying to surface. He pushed them back down; they weren’t happening now and while this was sort of similar, it wasn’t anywhere near that bad.
Heck, he might even still be able to talk his way out of this one.
That was less important than figuring out exactly what they noticed. He knew how to realign his Vital Affinity, at least from Death to Life, but he didn’t want to. It might well not work the same way; on top of that, he liked the idea that his Vital Affinity was magic itself, both Mana and Essence. In many ways, it was the perfect Vital Affinity for him.
:It’ll be fine,: Rissa tried to reassure Serenity. He could tell that she was worried, but she tried anyway. :You can get out of this. I know you can.: That part was firm, as if Rissa didn’t doubt his ability to escape at all. It seemed like a fair assessment; Serenity didn’t have any doubt of his ability to fight his way off the moon either. He wasn’t certain he could manage “fine,” unfortunately; that depended on how good he was at talking and that had never been his strong suit.
The elder dryad tied a knot in the bindings she’d wrapped around Serenity’s wrists. They weren’t tight, but they were tight enough that he’d have to work at it to slip out of them. “Follow me,” she stated, then turned and walked out of the too-small room.
Serenity glanced at his family and friends, then followed her out the door. There were four openly armed and armored dryads in the hallway, two on either side of the door. They each glanced at his hands and seemed to relax a fraction, but they still watched him carefully as he followed their elder. Serenity got the impression that they watched his allies as well, but not as carefully as they watched him.
The elder led them back out the way they’d entered. When he exited the building, he saw a dozen more armed dryads waiting a few steps away from the exit. It might have looked like an honor guard if they hadn’t been so obviously ready for a fight. Serenity didn’t miss the fact that every single one of them took a look at his hands; several of them seemed to pay more attention to the bindings than to anything else.
They were escorted across the cleared field towards a set of bushes. This time, Serenity paid attention to the ground; when he did, it was obvious that it was a “cleared field” only above the ground. He could see the ridges and valleys where large roots were a little too close to the surface to be fully hidden. He couldn’t immediately find the ones that were a little deeper, but he was certain they were there. If someone took the area near the portal as being undefended simply because it was “clear”, they’d likely be in for a big surprise.
The elder dryad stopped about twenty feet short of the bushes. “This will do; one at a time, please.” It took her a moment to realize that no one was stepping forward because no one was certain what she meant before the elder dryad actually gave useful instructions. “One of you, walk up to the -” She stopped, sighed, and shook her head. “Remvir, monitor the one who steps forward. Each of you, walk up to near Remvir. He’ll direct you from there.”
One of the dryad guards moved up to near the bush. A moment later, Blaze followed him. Serenity could guess why Blaze was first; not only was he confident in his ability to keep himself safe, he was also the most selfless in the group. Serenity sometimes wished he’d be a bit more selfish and take the time he needed for himself.
Blaze walked up close to the warrior dryad. He stopped when Remvir held up a hand, then stood there for ten or fifteen seconds while Remvir reached out and touched the bush. Remvir then pointed away from the rest of the group and said something softly. He must have been telling Blaze to “go stand over there,” since that’s what he did.
The same thing happened, one person at a time, for each person in Serenity’s retinue. The only exception was when Jenna’s nanny Diane carried her as she walked up towards Remvir. Serenity tensed a little, but other than the fact that there were two people instead of one, nothing changed.
When everyone other than Serenity was gathered together, the elder dryad turned to Serenity. “You may as well be checked as well. Go ahead.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Serenity shrugged to himself. It wasn’t like a passive check here was going to see anything they couldn’t get in other ways, even though this was almost certainly better than whatever they had at the portal. He walked towards the bush and its guard.
Remvit tensed the moment he touched the bush. He seemed almost frantic as he waved towards the elder dryad. “Go back to Elder Lizven,” was all he said, but his words were fast and clearly worried. It was enough to make Serenity wonder exactly what that bush was looking for.
Serenity didn’t hurry. Instead, he turned towards Rissa and shouted. “See you soon!”
He couldn’t wave, but Rissa did.
Serenity then turned and walked slowly back towards the elder. Lisven, huh? He hadn’t thought to get her name earlier.
:We’re at the portal,: Rissa reported moments later. She must have hurried; that was a good thing.
Serenity turned to look. The entire group was indeed queued up at the portal. Serenity watched them all proceed through it. Elder Lisven didn’t say anything; she simply watched.
:Love you, Serenity.: Rissa sent the thought as she stood in front of the portal leading off Berinath.
:Love you too, Rissa. See you on Myrta,: Serenity promised.
:On Myrta,: Rissa agreed, then stepped through.
Serenity watched as the last two of his people followed, one of Legion’s bodies and Ita. It wasn’t until Ita vanished through the portal that he realized just how passive she’d been about her Shameful One being taken away. Either she also trusted him, or she thought he wanted her to protect Jenna and Rissa.
Now that he thought about it, both were probably true.
“Do you want to design a new shell, or would you like it to be based on the one you currently have?” Elder Lizven’s voice pulled Serenity away from his musings about Ita. “You do seem to be in remarkably good shape; most undead clearly show their unlife. There wouldn’t be much need to change things if you’re happy with your current shell.”
Serenity spun around. “Why do you keep insisting I’m undead? I’m not, I already told you that.”
“And you believe it.” Elder Lizven’s tone made it a statement, not a question. “Still, you clearly are undead, and disbelief of your state is not that unusual. You don’t want to be undead, so you deny it, even to yourself. I’ve seen it before.”
“I already told you-” Serenity cut himself off and forced himself to take a deep breath. Repeating his position again wasn’t going to get him anywhere. That was already obvious. Maybe this was a good time to ask; he did want to know what he’d need to do to prevent whatever happened here in the future. “Why are you so convinced I’m undead?”
Even before she started to answer, the grin Elder Lizven gave Serenity told him that he’d asked the right question as far as she was concerned. “Nature knows when death walks within. We ignore it; that’s the right of those of us who have grown beyond Nature alone. Still, the Forest knows when Death walks among us. The Forest knew Death walked with you the moment you stepped onto Berinath. There are only two types of people who the Forest says that about; extremely powerful necromancers and the undead. You’re only about Tier Ten, so you’re clearly not a necromancer the Forest would notice. Therefore, you’re undead, whether you know it or not.”
That was wrong on so many levels. “What about Death Elementals?” was the question he asked, because it slipped out of his mouth before he even considered everything else that was wrong with what she’d said. Not only was it wrong, it was useless; “the Forest knows” was not something he could immediately turn into a spell to not show. He needed to understand how the Forest knew.
The elder shrugged. “I’ve never seen one. I suppose a powerful enough Death Elemental would be like a necromancer.”
Yeah, that was the second thing. “Not all Death mages are necromancers,” Serenity pointed out. “It’s not even the best Affinity for necromancy.”
Elder Lisven shrugged. “Raising the dead isn’t the worst thing Death mages can do, it’s true. Trying to corrupt the living to death-in-life … that’s the worst. It’s fortunate that we haven’t seen that in decades.”
Death in life? It took Serenity a moment to realize what the elder had to mean. It wasn’t something he could do; it wasn’t part of his Death Concept. As far as he was concerned, Death didn’t work that way. Vengeance had seen something that sounded similar, however, and he’d been accused of it more than once by people who couldn’t tell the difference between a Death affinity, an Undeath affinity, and an Unlife affinity. Serenity wasn’t entirely certain about the difference between the last two; they could all blur together, depending largely on Concept. Unlife was the affinity that he was fairly certain Elder Lisven was talking about.
It was something he’d never dabbled in, not even as the Final Reaper. He’d rather kill his enemies. Sure, he might raise the bodies afterwards, but at that point they were sustained by his spells, not their own natural processes. The soul was gone, off to wherever souls went after the River of Souls.
“You mean puppets,” Serenity said with a note of venom in his voice. “Where the person is no longer truly alive but the body is and can be controlled. That’s not death magic.” Serenity stopped and shook his head. Arguing about related affinities was rarely useful unless you were talking to a specialist in one of the affinities. “It’s awful but nothing to condemn people who haven’t done it over.”
Elder Lisven’s eyes flicked up for a moment before she forced them back down.
Serenity followed her gaze to Tzintkra where it sat high in the sky. He didn’t think she’d meant anything consciously by the gesture, but it made something he’d wondered about fall into place. “Oh. You mean that’s what triggered the war. On a massive scale… that’s horrifying.”
It still wasn’t something to condemn death magic for; the people who used it that way, definitely, but not the magic itself. Unfortunately, Serenity could understand how it went that way. There was probably no one alive who really remembered the Holocaust, but that didn’t mean the memory was dead. Having a dying reminder of the past in the sky wouldn’t make the memory die faster.
He was really beginning to think he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this one. Well, it was always a remote hope. He’d still try as long as there was a chance.