Guessing Game

Venry found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, rotting wood decorated by cobwebs and intruding vines. He could hear voices somewhere nearby, blurry echoes of otherwise comprehensive sentences dumbed down by his unfocused mind. His body felt numb and he couldn’t feel his right arm. For a moment he thought it was gone, until it finally responded to his commands. It stung. Like a million prickling needles attacked his hand at the same time.

“Help him up, he needs to eat.” A familiar voice called his attention. To his left he found three men approach him and a fourth silhouette of a shadowy woman sitting across the room. The nondescript features of the wooden walls and floors squeaked about under the movements of heavy footfalls.

“Up you go, buddy.” Dystro pull him up by his right arm, aggravating the stings. “Miss Void Mother here says you need to eat.”

A stranger passed him a warm bowl of soup. His watery eyes couldn’t make out its contents. He didn’t ask. It was warm, salty, thick, and most importantly, filling. He ignored everyone and everything else until he was done.

“How are you feeling?” The shadow—the Void Mother—asked.

“I could use a few more bowls,” Venry replied. The same stranger gave him a refill. He observed the second unknown man studying him, he looked uncannily the same as the first one.

“Are you the twins?” the former Guard Knight asked.

“I’m Hal,” said the one who gave him the bowl.

“Ral,” replied the other. “Yes. Twins.”

Venry savored his second helping of soup before moving on. The others took their own meals with only the shadow lady remaining still on her seat. Only then did the Guard Knight regard her properly.

Shadow was a confusing term to describe the Void Mother. She had a proper form, emerging like a tangible physical body covered in darkness rather than a shade plastered on the floor caused by an object blocking the light. She regarded the four of them with patience, waiting until everyone had properly finished their meals.

Venry was the first to break the silence. “Now that we’re all here. We’re owed an explanation.” He focused primarily at the Void Mother. Surrounded by three Vyndivalians—who were not only his former enemies but were also more comfortable in the Nightmare Lands compared to him—brought him a little on edge. But the fact that he was still alive despite all this—and everything else that had happened to him during the last week—ignited a flame within himself that took more effort to temper down than he realized.

“Alright,” said the shadow. There was little to tell as to what was going through her thoughts, and the passiveness of her tone gave away nothing. “What do you want to know first?”

All heads turned to Venry, so he replied. “Start with your name.”

The shadow nodded. “I am Selfiya Lunasensia, Void Mother of the Western Sanctum.”

“How come you look like that?” Dystro asked. It looked like he couldn’t hold the question any longer. “Just curious.”

“I’m speaking to you through one of Brymeia’s Blessings, Soul’s Walk. By channeling my will, I can send it to connect with other people. I can usually control the form it takes, but in order to conserve precious meiyal, I’ve decided to leave that to my surroundings; hence, the shadowy form I have now.”

“She showed up made of plants,” Venry followed, confirming her reason to the rest of the listeners. “Then a second time as earth and stone.”

“It was plants for us, too,” Hal followed.

“She never showed up to me before this,” Dystro said.

Selfiya nodded. “Correct, I didn’t, but your presence is a welcome addition nonetheless.”

With his stomach somewhat filled and his consciousness fully awake, memories of their past conversation surfaced in Venry’s mind. “You said our ultimate goal is your rescue,” he implied the question.

“I know not where my prison lies. It’s constantly moving. They’ve kept me well in the dark, but even my watchers talk. These are only speculative and I possess no absolute proof, but I’ve heard mention of some places: Dragonbeard Shore, Obnixi Jungle, Nolomori Forest, and lastly Bloodaxe Fort.”

The names of these places caused Venry’s head to spin and his vision darken. “Those are in Irista Nation!” The sudden alarm caused him to stand and start for the exit, but his fatigue threw him right back on the pile of straws he was resting on. He couldn’t help but curse.

“I’m sure there’s more to just that, Venry,” Selfiya’s shadow said. “The places I mentioned were in the order I heard them. Calm down and try to figure out where you think I might be. The only thing I know is that these places are in Eastrise Region, somewhere near Eastrise City. You should know the connections to these places better than any of us.”

Venry didn’t even need to process his thoughts. “Dragonbeard Shore is an adventurer-founded town affiliated under the flag of Irista Nation. It rests in the north-east, between Northsnow and Eastrise Regions. Obnixi Jungle lies a few days of travel south. Head east again, enter the Eastrise Region proper, and you’ll quickly see the gigantic trees of Nolomori Forest. Slightly south-east of that, you’ll reach Bloodaxe Fort, a mercenary settlement turned Nightmare Lands haven directly east of the region’s main city.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You’re circling down,” Dystro mentioned, observing Ral’s crude drawing on the dirt. Other than the straight line going down from Dragonbeard Shore and Obnixi Jungle, the rest of the landmarks connected slightly on a curve, avoiding Eastrise City with a wide berth.

In Venry’s mental map, these places were not exactly aligned as a circle—or the quarter of it at least—but avoiding the main city might be a clue. No roads connected Nolomori Forest and Bloodaxe Fort without crossing Eastrise City. So, either Selfiya was never transported there, or she missed hearing that landmark.

Still, it could be a clue. If her prison could somehow travel across mountains and bodies of water that stood in the way of the forest and the fort, avoiding the city wouldn’t be a problem.

“Where do you think I’ll be next?” Selfiya asked, dragging Venry away from his thoughts. Without any other prompts, Ral passed him the stick he was using to draw.

Venry made two additional points near Bloodaxe Fort. South-east of the fort was a particularly close landmark named Cape Talon where a rich noblewoman—whose name he didn’t bother to remember—built a small, luxurious resort. He didn’t bet on that place.

South-west of Bloodaxe Fort, though particularly farther and blocked by the mountains and a small lick of the Great Sea Dividyr, was a particularly deathly place.

Befall, Scar of this World.

“I think you’ll be here next,” Venry concluded.

Everyone was in immediate unison.

“You might be right,” Selfiya said, solidifying the theory. Not only did Befall continue the circular pattern, the historical significance of the place was greater—if not on par—with the others that were mentioned.

“Scar of this World,” Dystro read. “That’s a bold claim to name a place. Were the Iristans trying to come up with a better name than—”

“The Nothing,” Selfiya interrupted, facing Dystro. “Use that name for that place.”

“Why? That sounds lamer than—”

“Technically you’re still in the safe zone, albeit the edges of the Void Region grip this place.” The shadowy form of Selfiya struck like a blur and covered Dystro’s arrogant mouth. “It’s just superstition within the Order of the Void, but to mention The Nothing’s name is to invite the Nightmare. You wouldn’t call upon the source and not expect it to come, would you?”

She waited for Dystro to nod before releasing her hold.

“So why Scar of this World, then?” the nosy Vyndivalian asked. Despite themselves, the twins seemed interested in the story as well and eagerly waited for Venry. Without any interference or urgency from the Void Mother, he was basically forced to answer the question. He began with a sigh.

“The place was named Befall as a reminder that Zerax’thum, the Tyrant Dragon God was defeated. A reminder that if we—mortals that we are—band together, we can kill not only Deitars, but even the Divines that granted them power. It’s the exact place where Zerax’thum first fell from one of Evanclad’s attacks.

“The impact destroyed the land and all life within in, and the unnatural meiyal oozing from the Dragon God cursed the entire area with undeath. We call it a scar because the wounds—the destruction of the land—have healed, but it never fully recovered. Even now, thousands of years later, it couldn’t foster life and constantly breeds undead that we regularly keep in check.”

Venry looked at each Vyndivalian. “I know you guys have some experience in the Nightmare Lands but stepping foot in Befall isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s not the same as fighting the Nightmare’s influence, neither is it just death or undeath. It’s more of…”

“The Contradiction of Life,” Selfiya finished for him when he trailed off. “It’s the official description Evanclad gave to Befall.”

“You’ve been there?” Hal asked Venry.

“Regularly, yes. It was part of our duty to keep the undead isolated in that place. Even the Princesses didn’t hesitate nor used their status as royalties to overrule the Guard Knight norm.” The former Iristan Guard Knight stared at his empty bowl, contemplating to ask for another serving. Just the memory of that cursed place was enough to urge for any reminders of life. Food was always one of the best reminders. He passed the bowl over to Hal who obliviously refilled it.

“The things I saw, the things I fought, the things I felt while in Befall, they were a constant reminder of death. Eradication of every desire, every pulse, every ambition. It all leads to the end. To nothing.”

“Sounds like that’s the place, then,” Dystro said, clapping his hands as a flimsy attempt at lightening the mood. “When and how are we going?”

Venry was ultimately grateful for the change of topic. “The closest working port here is Minaveil Port,” he said in between slurps. “If I vouch for you three, you’ll be safe. We can even ask for assistance.”

“We can’t risk Minaveil Port, Venry,” Selfiya interjected. “There are spies everywhere. I went to the trouble of leading you all here in the middle of nowhere.”

The Iristan silently cursed himself. “Good point. How then?”

“Ride A Floating Dream Amidst the Nightmare. These three can show you how.”

The three Vyndivalians all nodded in agreement and made their own affirmative comments. All Venry knew about the particular Nightmare was its gigantic manta ray shape and its surprisingly docile behavior. To discover that it was even tame enough to allow riders to stir it was something he actually secretly looked forward to.

“I’ve also asked them to help you acclimate within the Nightmare Lands while you look for one,” Selfiya added.

Venry looked at his three former enemies and bowed his head. “Gratitude. I will do my best to learn.”

“Since the Void Mother asked, we can’t really complain,” Ral said with a slightly forced smile. “Besides, if we don’t and you die here, we won’t have a face to show those who spared us.”

“Spared you?”

“The Visitor, Frein,” Hal replied.

It immediately caused a reaction from Selfiya. “Was Katherine with him?”

“Yes.”

“How is she?”

Hal turned to his brother who took the reins. “We were too busy fighting and as shameful as it is to admit, we were under the influence of Urzic’s Monarch’s Law.”

Venry noted Ral dropped the king’s title.

“I see. That’s fine. Thank you.”

The awkward silence that followed emphasized Venry’s slurping. He paid it no mind and finished the soup before moving on. “How often do you get moved?” he asked the Void Mother.

“Once a month by my estimates,” Selfiya replied. “It could be anywhere within one or two weeks from now before I get moved again.”

By the looks everyone gave, Venry assumed they were all thinking the same thing. Dystro was ever quick to ask. “How long have you been imprisoned?”

Selfiya’s shadowy form shrugged. “Maybe three, maybe four years. Time isn’t exactly a luxury I’m afforded by my enemies.”

“And who are these enemies?” Hal asked this time.

Selfiya crossed her arms and legs and turned to face the Lord Knight directly. “They call themselves, The Cult of the Fallen Dragon.”

“Zerax’thum’s Cult?” Venry paused, frowned, and almost dropped his bowl.

“Worshipers of the Fallen Dragon, eternal enemies of the Order of the Void,” Selfiya said. “The ones who destroyed my Sanctum. They’re keeping me alive—my guess—to use me as a bargaining chip against the other Sanctums. But if I’m heading towards, Befall, they might just have a different agenda in mind.”

“You mean?”

Selfiya nodded at Venry. “Resurrect Zerax’thum.”

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