Power and Passage

Magic flowed through Wanderer’s body like blood would flow through an animal, it reached across their form, soaking every part of it and empowering everywhere it went.

In an instant, Wanderer felt stronger, quicker, tougher, their previous thoughts felt sluggish compared to the speed in which they passed now, the great reef in front of them seemed to gain in colour, their eyes now able to pierce the dark depths just a little bit more.

But most immediately noticeable was that their clay body felt tougher, not hardened or solid, but denser, more viscous.

In shock, they hurriedly turned their vision inwards, to the blessing that provided this newfound power.

A slow yet thick stream of magic flowed out of it, despite this, it never shrunk in size or intensity, it remained constant, producing magic at the same speed as it lost it.

Feeling their payment complete, the greater Spirit sent a flash of emotion indicating their departure, before once again hurtling through the floor, soon reaching a depth where they could no longer be sensed.

After the feeling of shock passed, Wanderer tuned their vision to the world around them, the reef looked darker, the light-giving animals having been scared away by the massive influx of magic.

The darkness prevailed to such an extent that the Golem could only barely makeout Emio a few steps away, by the light that their runic eye provided.

Emio stared at them intently, having sensed a change in their friend, but being unsure of its nature

Slowly the verdestry approached, cautious of the unseen change, getting closer and closer until, finally, the creature placed itself upon its favoured perch and, seeing that it had not been altered, let go of their caution.

All the while, Wanderer was sending messages of thanks and joy to their Spirit, who eagerly returned with emotions of acceptance and humility, deeming the simple task of convincing their kin to give a reward worth little.

Yet to the Vessel, it was worth the world, the speed and power accompanying their movements set their mind alight with thoughts of the new possibilities.

Without hesitation, Wanderer began to half swim, half run across the lake floor, newly improved agility and weight making the once difficult task one of relative ease, causing them to nearly approach the speed at which they could run on land.

Much to the disagreement of Emio, the small party set off in the direction of the shore, as dictated by Spirit, and sure enough, after an hour or two of weaving through spiralling coral and tangling kelp, they arrived at the rigid rock wall that marked the opposite shore.

There was a small degree of trepidation within Wanderer’s mind at having to face the fog and all its dangers once again, yet they were different from when they first entered the mists, more mature, they would trek through the fog safely, quickly and most of all, without bloodshed.

Between the weight-bearing water, four hands and Wanderer's newfound strength, the climb up was a smooth one, Emio not even bothering to leave their perch.

As they ascended, precious light began to filter from the surface, banishing the bioluminescent lake life below, white light with only a tinge of the blue that the sun carried across the watery surface greyed by the choking fog above.

After a hesitant moment, Wanderer surfaced, feeling the cool mists upon their sculpted body, yet in that same moment a sound like the breaking of great trees and whipping of a thousand vines screeched from Emio, and within an instant, they dived back under the water.

Immediately, the Golem dived back under the water, catching only a glimpse of the verdestry before they threw themselves across the lake floor.

On contact with the fog, the small creature had decayed, its outer body becoming reminiscent of decayed food scraps and half-decomposed compost.

“Fool”, Wanderer admonished themself, had they not seen the half-decayed bird and had they not noticed the lack of plant life within the gloom?

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Clearly, the fog was poison to all but those who adapted to live within it, and their ignorance of this fact had nearly cost them a dear friend.

They let themself slowly float down towards the lakebed, waiting for Emio who returned not long later.

As Wanderer saw the small monster's glowing eye lethargically crest a hill, they ran towards them, mind filled with anxieties and apologies.

As the Vessel approached Emio tiredly raised themself up in the water, the small creature now towering over Wanderer.

It raised one of its tendrils in the snake-like position that signalled imminent attack, a motion that sent immense fear through Wanderer, a fear only marginally calmed by their Spirit's assurance that there was little to fear.

“But how could there be?”, Wanderer had seen Emios power, had it demonstrated to them again and again, even if the Vessel had not taken an oath of pacifism they thought little of their chance in combat.

Before any true decision could be made on their part, the threatening limb came down, water rippling in its wake, before slamming into the edge of Wanderer's hat-like head.

Yet the damage was light, little more than a light dent remained at the impact site, a far cry from the crushing blow they had expected, a light-hearted punishment.

Before the Golem could begin to process the recent happening, Emio had slinked over and plunked themself upon the Vessel's head, grumpy wrinkles coursing throughout its body.

At the invalidation of Wanderer's worry, an almost smug feeling followed from their Spirit, along with a vague notion that the trio should follow along the rock wall, with the hope of finding a way out of the fog-capped lake.

They circuited the cliff face, searching for an exit that they could abuse to escape their misty prison, and just as they began to contemplate returning to the wooded island in the centre, despite how unreasonable it sounded, their Spirit hurriedly drew Wanderer's attention to the base of the rock wall.

At first, in the gloom of the lake, they didn't notice anything different about the rocky outcrop, even their recently enhanced eyes struggling to pick out a variation.

Yet as they got closer they saw their target, there at the base of the wall existed a hole, just large enough for Wanderer to fit, that quickly widened up into an underlake cave.

The natural imperfection was hidden behind a curved stone outcrop and a small wall of sand, disguising it from all but the most attentive watchers.

It was this that caused Wanderer to contemplate the nature of their Spirit's vision, they had seen the fog-beast and firebolt approaching before Wanderer had any knowledge of it, surely they must be able to see something Wanderer could not.

“How do you see?”, the Vessel asked and, after a few moments of contemplation, they received a reply.

What they received was not the customary emotion or thought, it was like a vision, a whole concept to which their mind struggled to comprehend.

Flashes of information struggled to make themselves known, forced into a mind which couldn't fit them.

In the chaos, Wanderer beheld a vague feeling of light and glow, organised into reaching streams and stagnant ponds, in a space that went beyond all they knew.

As fast as it came, the vision left, the Spirit quickly realising Wanderer's turmoil, and ceasing their answer.

Wanderer was left reeling.

“What was that?”, they questioned.

Yet they received no answer, their Spirit too afraid to even talk about the foreign concept, lest they break Wanderer's already fragile mind.

But the Golem was determined, with every thought they made there now existed a blaring hole, a deep vacuum of curiosity that could only be sated by the knowledge they could not have.

Again they sent their question, receiving nothing but a refusal.

An odd desperation grew within Wanderer, suffusing their message as it was sent again.

A hint of worry could be felt from the Spirit, yet its refusal was as stubborn as before.

With an emotion almost rivalling anger, Wanderer demanded an answer, all pretence of kindness gone.

Yet before the Spirit could send a charged reply, a long, kelpen tendril curled around the Vessel's arm, Emio snapping the two out of their argument.

For a moment, Wanderer almost thought that Emio had picked up on their internal argument, but as they observed them they discovered their real intention, they were bored and wanted to leave the lake.

The Golem laughed a little within their mind, “It can wait”, they decided.

Already, the gaping hole of curiosity seemed a lot smaller than it was a moment before, and a hell of a lot smaller than Emio's increasing insistence on leaving.

Not knowing what to say to their Spirit, they sent a small but meaningful thought of apology and began their way down the opening cavern.

What minuscule light that existed on the surface vanished as they entered the under-lake cave, Emio's glowing eye being the only thing illuminating the jagged walls, walls that were gradually widening as they slowly crept under the water.

Turning a corner in the now wide tunnel, the party came to see an exit in the roof of the shaft, indicated by a subtle, pinkish glow.

This perplexed Wanderer, "where could this light be coming from", they questioned.

It was not the blue light of the sun and moons, nor the eerie light of the coral reef, this light was subtle like the glowing creatures yet with a strength of colour and tone that indicated it could not possibly be them.

Rushing forward, it didn't take long before they had surfaced through the glowing exit into an air-filled cavern, the light coming not from the sun or an animal, but a great carpet of glowing moss and fungi that blanketed the entire room.