Chapter 8: Solitude
Vina stood uncertainly, her voice tinged with hesitation. "Uhm, hello," she said, unsure how to address the person before her. The woman had an otherworldly appearance, yet her vibrance resonated with a familiarity that contradicted her creature-like form.
“Yes. Hello. Can you open the tower?” The woman’s voice was remarkably flat, devoid of emotion, as she advanced towards Vina, dragging an object beside her.
As the figure drew nearer, Vina discerned the object was a massive piece of metal, crudely sharpened along one edge like a gigantic, makeshift machete. The woman, despite her delicate frame and standing an inch taller than Vina, handled the cumbersome weapon with surprising ease. “I’m sorry. I’m really confused,” Vina replied, her eyes flickering between the woman and the weapon. “Who are you?” She attempted to use her Examine ability, seeking clarity amidst her confusion.
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The information was as basic as if she had examined any ordinary citizen of Prosit. It confirmed only that this person was a native of this world, nothing more.
“My name is Oyna. You are Vina, an Asharaina. Does my form unsettle you? I have tried to resemble your appearance as closely as I can,” the woman, Oyna, said, halting her approach to maintain a respectful distance.
Vina shook her head, striving to compose herself. “I’m sorry, Oyna. I haven’t encountered someone like you before. It was impolite of me to stare. Your eyes are the same shade of red as mine. There’s no reason they should unsettle me,” Vina replied, forcing a smile that failed to mask her unease. She felt an undercurrent of tension in the dark, aware that Oyna shared her apprehension.
“My Professed advised against explaining my nature to others. I disagree. Understanding often brings comfort,” Oyna shared, her voice still lacking inflection, but Vina sensed a flicker of fear in her vibrance.
“Oyna, I recognize now that we are alike. I apologize for not seeing it sooner. You don’t owe anyone an explanation to be accepted,” Vina reassured her. “About the tower – I noticed you near it earlier. Is it locked?”
“Yes. Several days ago, it entered lockdown, and the runes on the door deactivated. I was unable to enter. The Shaper and Faer haven’t returned for me. I am alone,” Oyna confessed, her fingers slipping into the gap between two bony plates of her dress in a self-comforting gesture.
Mention of The Shaper and Faer sent Vina’s mind racing. She knew Faer was no longer alive, but how would Oyna react to this news? And The Shaper was a figure Vina dreaded, knowing their reputation for hunting Blood Weavers. “Uhm… is The Shaper inside the tower?” Vina asked cautiously.
Oyna’s masked face turned towards the tower, the long protrusion grazing her shoulder. “It seems unlikely, as they haven’t come for me. I was instructed to stay inside until their return. Can you assist me?”
Vina hesitated, her thoughts interrupted by a quest notification materializing before her eyes.
New Personal Quest: Help Oyna enter the Tower of Solitude. Do you accept? Yes? No?
Before responding, Vina sought to clarify an important detail. “Oyna, if I help you get inside the tower, would you mind if I use the portal ring?” she asked cautiously.
Oyna released the seam of her bone dress, her hand motioning ambiguously. Vina took it as a noncommittal gesture. “I have no objections. Faer frequently uses the portal ring. He can be rather disagreeable, but occasionally, he shows a willingness to help. You’re welcome to try and negotiate with him,” Oyna explained.
Vina confirmed the quest, her gaze shifting towards the imposing Tower of Solitude. Yet, she had one more concern to address. “Oyna, can you see the star above my head?” she inquired, her tone reflecting a mix of curiosity and caution.
Oyna’s masked face nodded, the sharp edge of her mask grazing her chest. “The Watch has placed a bounty on you. I was notified as well.”
Vina’s curiosity piqued, and she probed further. “But aren’t you aligned with The Shaper and Faer, and by extension, The Watch? Why wouldn’t you attempt to claim the bounty?”
Her new companion looked at her for a while before answering, “My association with Faer and The Shaper is not by choice. I am forced to serve their cause. You can see what they have done to me. With the way I appear, I could never claim your bounty or benefit from it in any way.”
A wave of sympathy washed over Vina as she regarded Oyna. “I’m truly sorry, Oyna. I had no idea you were forced into this situation.”
Oyna remained silent for a brief moment, her tone resuming its flat affect. “Your apology is misplaced. You bear no responsibility for my circumstances.”
Vina opened her mouth, perhaps to offer further consolation, but then thought better of it. “Let’s focus on getting that door open, Oyna,” she suggested, steering their focus back to their immediate task.
Vina and Oyna made their way to the tower, side by side in a slow procession. Oyna, still dragging the oversized machete, moved at a measured pace, forcing Vina to adjust her speed to match.
Curious, Vina broke the silence. “Where did you find that weapon?” she inquired, hoping to engage Oyna in conversation.
Oyna lifted her free hand, pointing towards a damaged section of the tower's stairwell. Vina noticed the area bore deep scratches and signs of forceful dismantling – the very metal Oyna had repurposed into her makeshift weapon. “I grew tired from battling the creatures and misshapen outside. This... became necessary for survival,” Oyna explained. Her voice, still flat, held a trace of weariness. “Why did you avoid me earlier?”
Vina was caught off guard by the question. “Well, um... I didn't expect you to notice me from such a distance. I feared you might be one of the Twelve and felt the need to remain concealed for my safety,” she confessed.
Oyna's solitary exposed eye met Vina's. “Were you trying to deceive just now? Or were you unaware of your intentions at that moment?”
Confused, Vina replied, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Oyna’s tone was matter-of-fact. “The Shaper endowed me with an ability to sense hostile intentions. When you first saw me, you were assessing how to eliminate me as a threat.”
Vina thought back to when she was on the ledge. The memory was perfectly clear in her mind, “I… was examining how you fought those creatures. I noticed you didn’t have an extreme amount of flexibility, but I don’t recall desiring to cause you harm.”
Vina climbed the steps to the tower and stood in front of the door as Oyna seemed to be gathering her thoughts. She examined the runes on the door and indeed saw they lacked divinity. “Oyna, this will take me some time to figure out. Can you ensure no creatures creep up on us?” Vina asked.
Oyna, her gaze fixed on the tower's entrance, continued speaking in a contemplative tone, “Perhaps I don't fully grasp the extent of my ability. If you were assessing my vulnerabilities, couldn’t it be seen as preparation for an attack?”
Vina, absorbed in the intricate runes on the door, recognized the distinctive style almost immediately – it was Faer’s handiwork, mirroring the runes etched onto his skin. “My thoughts were more about self-preservation,” she explained, “contemplating defense strategies should you pose a threat to me. Fortunately, it appears we share common goals and a growing understanding. I have no intention of harming you now. Does your ability detect that?” she inquired, her voice laced with curiosity.
As Oyna processed this, Vina scrutinized the door's runes with intense focus. Despite her growing proficiency, Faer’s skill as a rune carver was still far superior. The complexity of the runes was daunting, demanding a level of expertise beyond Vina’s current skill level. The best she could do here was rewire his work and circumvent his intentions. “Oyna, how did you open this door in the past? Did you use your hand?”
“Yes, the upper right corner bears a circle attuned to my handprint. There are others for different individuals,” Oyna explained, her voice trailing off into a contemplative silence. “My ability now suggests you harbor no ill will towards me. It’s just…” Her voice faded for a moment before she spoke again. “... it’s never done that before.”
Sensing a shift in Oyna's emotional state, Vina paused her examination of the runes and turned to face her. Descending the steps, she gently placed a hand on Oyna's bony shoulder. “Your ability tells you everyone you meet means you harm?” Vina asked.
Oyna’s head turned slightly, revealing more of the red eyes hidden beneath her mask and a glimpse of her pale skin. “Yes, from everyone I encounter.”
A wave of empathy washed over Vina. “Oyna, I can offer you an escape from such a constant state of alert. There's a place I’m creating where people like us can be safe. Will you let me show you?”
Oyna's response, tinged with confusion, was hesitant. “People like you and me?.
Vina nodded reassuringly. “Yes, exactly like us. But I need you to trust me and not be afraid of what I’m about to show you.”
Oyna turned her head sideways as far as her side mask would let her, “I promise. Show me.”
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Gently, Vina raised her hand, allowing her blood to seep out slowly, weaving it into a hovering globe above her palm. She held this liquid display inches from Oyna’s face, all the while attentively gauging her vibrance for any sign of her reaction.
Oyna shifted her gaze, peering intently through the slits in her masks to get a clearer view of the spectacle. “You possess a blood class as well,” she murmured in awe.
A smile of kinship graced Vina’s lips. “You’re the first person I’ve met who has one besides me.”
Oyna’s next question carried a hint of vulnerability. “Your class does not disfigure you?”
Vina felt a twinge of empathy. Her own experiences with social alienation in Prosit due to her abilities resonated with Oyna’s question. “It has changed me, too. But your transformation seems more significant.”
Oyna and Vina stood there for a moment as the stars and moon overhead glowed down on them. The sky, initially open and clear, had begun to form a few shadowy clouds. “Can you work in the dark?” Oyna asked, breaking the silence.
Vina responded with a comforting tone. “I have just the thing.” She unhooked a lantern from her hip and placed it gently on the ground beside Oyna. With a tap, the lantern cast a soothing red glow, bathing their surroundings in a calming radiance.
Oyna leaned slightly to inspect the lantern, her movements limited by her attire. “Blood runes... The Shaper coveted that skill after learning of your abilities. Faer attempted to instruct them in rune carvings, but to no avail. The Shaper seems incapable of learning either skill, even struggling with portal rings. Your lantern, though, has a warm and reassuring light.”
Vina’s smile broadened, touched by Oyna’s interest. “Keep an eye on it for me while I tackle this door. It tends to attract more attention than I’d like,” she said with a light chuckle. Vina, still feeling deep compassion for Oyna, tried to not imagine the hardships she must have endured while under The Shaper’s control.
Turning her attention back to the door, Vina delved into the complexity of the runes. She noted how Faer’s approach to runic design differed starkly from hers and her mother's. His runes were arranged in a structured grid, an unnecessary but surprisingly helpful format that facilitated reading. The runes, while still floating, were more tightly interlinked than those on her backpack or lantern, creating a sense of cohesion and stability. "Was Priya’s method intentionally more convoluted, perhaps as a security measure?" Vina pondered.
The intricate network of runes proved less challenging to decipher than she expected, however. The locking mechanism, user identification tags, and power transfer runeforms were intricately connected to an internal divinity source within the tower. Vina, curious about its power feed yet cognizant of its depleted divinity, began to carefully disconnect the power system. She didn’t need to energize the entire mechanism, just the lock, Oyna’s identification tag, and a minuscule portion for the validation runes. Drawing on her blood, she meticulously began the process.
After about thirty minutes of concentrated effort, Vina stepped back, her task complete. “Oyna, I think it’s ready,” she announced, turning to her companion. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of something red, sinuous, and alive slipping out from beneath Oyna’s dress and coiling around the lantern’s hook. The tendril retracted into the gap in Oyna’s attire, disappearing as she took hold of it with her hand.
“Thank you, Vina,” Oyna said, her voice still devoid of inflection yet carrying a hint of gratitude. She walked back to Vina, carefully reattaching the lantern to her belt. “Is it time for my handprint?”
“Yes, but wait until I activate it with my blood. When the circle turns red, place your hand on it,” Vina instructed. She pressed her palms against the door, channeling her blood into the newly crafted reservoir. Her blood traced the runic paths, illuminating only select lines until one circle emitted a soft red glow.
Oyna's gaze was fixed on the crimson flow, her fascination palpable. “You can place your hand now,” Vina gently urged, noting Oyna’s rapt attention.
Yet Oyna remained still, her voice carrying a tone of awe. “Vina... your blood is extraordinary, so distinctively unique. I must collect it.” Swiftly, she extended a finger into the flowing blood, then delicately brought it up to her masked face, presumably to her mouth. Simultaneously, she pressed her other hand against the glowing circle. The door silently swung open, prompting Vina to cease the blood flow, trying to recall any unused remnants, though still frustrated by her dwindling reserve.
As they crossed the threshold into the dark interior of the tower, Vina's voice carried a blend of curiosity and concern. "Oyna, what did you do with my blood?" she asked, stepping into the echo of their footsteps.
Oyna paused, her silhouette framed by the tower’s entryway. "I belong to the Blood Collector class. My gift allows me to absorb the essence of blood I encounter, selecting one ability per level from my collection. Your blood, however, is an ocean of untapped potential, unlike anything I've encountered," she confessed, her gaze distant as if sifting through an unseen catalogue of powers.
A flicker of anxiety passed through Vina at the thought of her abilities in the hands of another, but she quickly composed herself, realizing that her unique blood control and rune skills were likely beyond Oyna's reach. At most, Oyna could access abilities like Blood Cloak or Blood Stained Hands.
"Which ability will you choose?" she inquired, already sensing the shift in Oyna's essence as it began to mirror her own.
Oyna momentarily closed her eye, absorbing the transformation. "The Shaper had decreed I have no choice in the matter should I meet you. I am drawn to your Universal Donor trait. I was compelled to select it," she revealed, her voice tinged with melancholy. "Their arrival is imminent now."
Alarms went off in Vina’s mind once more, and she struggled to figure out which question to ask first, “What do you mean Oyna? The Shaper told you about me? Why did they tell you to take my universal donor ability?” she asked.
While Oyna moved out to the doorway to ascend the stairs, Vina remained rooted, halted by growing concern. It was Oyna's turn to pause, looking back with an expectant tilt of her head. "You're unfamiliar with The Shaper’s story?"
Initially Vina had no idea what Oyna was talking about, but her mind zipped its way back to a time from weeks ago when she sat in a field with her sisters. Etana’s words flicked through her mind.
“There’s also the storytime twelve like the covered lady, the titan, the twins, and nil.”
Vina had met Nil just outside of Termily, Adir was the titan, and Norimor had admitted to being The Covered Lady. “Are the twins The Shaper?” Vina asked.
“Yes,” Oyna confirmed.
“I don’t know their story. Can you tell me?” Vina asked, unsure if she was willing to follow Oyna up the tower without knowing more first.
Oyna moved to the wall and leaned against it, “If you are tired, you may rest. This is a history lesson as much as a story.”
Vina, feeling the weariness of sleepless nights in the gloom, acknowledged the toll on her body. Notifications flashed before her eyes, a stark reminder of her physical and mental fatigue.
You are tired. Stamina recovery is reduced by 10% and your maximum stamina is reduced by 15%. You have 17 hours of sleep debt. Your health regeneration is reduced by 40% and your risk of infection is increased by 25%.
Despite this, Vina didn’t feel she could rest in the moment. Oyna had been honest and forthcoming with her answers, but her constant references to The Shaper had unnerved her. It was clear to her that Oyna was working for The Shaper even if she didn’t consider him an ally.
Despite her exhaustion, Vina couldn’t bring herself to rest, not with the shadow of The Shaper looming over their conversation. She settled opposite Oyna, retrieving some foraged foods from her backpack, extending an offer to share.
Oyna declined, holding a hand out in protest. "My food is not of the traditional sort. Blood is all I can…" her voice trailed off, still without an inflection of emotion.
Vina shook her head, “That’s okay. I understand. Please, tell me the story.”
Oyna began her tale with a calm, yet strangely captivating tone, “In an era before time was remembered, long before The Severing tore her apart, there was Trina, wandering the lands to aid those in need. One fateful day, she came upon a young man, his steps labored under the weight of his sister, whom he bore upon his back.”
“‘Young man,’ Trina spoke, her voice like a gentle wind, ‘The burden you shoulder is heavy, yet you carry it with such grace. Do not lose heart. The affliction that plagues your sister can be vanquished.’”
“With tender care, Trina relieved the man of his precious cargo. A single touch of her thumb upon the young woman’s brow sparked a miracle. Sores vanished, her labored breaths transformed into serene inhales and exhales, and the tremors that once seized her limbs were stilled. The man, overwhelmed with joy at his sister’s revival from the brink of death, embraced Trina. ‘Lady Trina, your kindness has rewritten our destiny. How can we ever repay you?’ he exclaimed.”
“Trina’s smile, warm and knowing, lit up her face. ‘To care for one another is the purest of gifts. The bond you share is my reward. Honor it all your days, and that will be thanks enough.’”
“Bidding them farewell, Trina continued on her path, leaving the siblings to their renewed journey. They ventured to a nearby city, hearts light with relief, believing the shadow of sickness had been lifted. Little did they know, their ordeal was but the prelude to a darker chapter. The malady that had once seized the young woman returned with a vengeance, its wrath spreading like wildfire through the city, leaving a trail of death and despair in its wake. Thus was born the tale of Langternem Disease, the scourge that first touched a woman saved by Trina’s grace.”
Vina, drawn into the narrative, recalled a fragment from her own past, a whisper of a memory about a pervasive shadow of death that even Trina could not hold back.
“She had witnessed a great death from a disease she could not stop.”
“Was this Trina’s Tragedy?” Vina asked, some surprise coming across in her voice.
“Yes.” Oyna affirmed, “Yet, despite her efforts, the curse returned, more virulent than before. Trina, undeterred, came back to confront the plague, healing the young woman and the city time and again. But the disease was relentless, erupting periodically with fatal consequences. Trina, for all her power, found herself in a battle she could not win, a cycle of healing and heartache that never ceased.”
“What happened to the siblings in the end?” Vina's voice was soft, her curiosity piqued by the tale's tragic undertones.
Oyna’s voice held a reflective quality as she continued, “The sister received Trina’s healing twelve times before the city’s demise. Her brother, untouched by the disease, remained steadfastly by her side. Trina, too, stayed with them, determined to find a lasting cure. Yet, the sister’s body bore the relentless scars of her battles, beyond even Trina’s ability to mend. The story says she was marked by death, her fate seemingly sealed.” Oyna paused, her gaze lingering on Vina, as if measuring the impact of her words.
“But the brother found a way to save her, through a path even Trina hadn’t foreseen,” Oyna added, her tone suggesting a mix of reverence.
Vina looked at Oyna, trying to understand what she had been told. From her readings, Trina had always been portrayed as a nearly perfect being, capable of almost godlike powers. For someone to have found a way to stave off death when Trina couldn’t spoke volumes about their capabilities. “Is this story true?” Vina asked.
Oyna gestured with her hand once more, “I’ve met The Shaper. I am inclined to believe the story.”
Vina, still grappling with the revelations, sought clarity. “I still don’t think I understand why The Shaper will recover you now. Can you be more clear?”
Oyna’s explanation was tinged with resignation. “The Shaper seeks a new vessel for their sister, unmarred by disease. The Universal Donor ability ensures our compatibility.”
The notion sent a shiver down Vina’s spine, her voice edged with revulsion and fear. “They can do that? They can just take your body away from you and stick the sister into it?”
“Not directly,” Oyna clarified, her words heavy. “Their quest to shape the perfect host has spanned centuries, a series of trials and errors. Yet, my case presents them a novel opportunity.”
Realization dawned in Vina’s eyes, “They could do the same with me. We share this ability now.”
Oyna nodded solemnly, “It hadn’t occurred to me, but yes, it's a possibility. The Shaper may very well come for us both.” She reached a hand inside of her dress and pulled out a small golden stone that looked familiar to Vina. With a single movement she crushed it in her palm, and Vina saw a golden liquid suddenly evaporate in a flash. “They’ll be here soon, though.”