A Rusty Traveler

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The Sanctuary - The Antechamber

  Eidos enters an antechamber, neither large nor small—far bigger than the room she awoke in, but far smaller than the Archives below. Off to her right, light filters into the room through a closed portcullis, obstructing passage through to the bridge beyond. Yeah, okay, don’t wanna know what’s on the other side of that thing… At the far end of the room is a rather ominous set of stairs, winding itself upwards into darkness. The only remaining pathway exiting this chamber is back whence she came, to the one leading deeper into the bowels of the edifice.

  Suspiciously conspicuous is the writing crudely scratched into the floor near one of the chamber’s corners—large, bold letters, with shapes somewhat discernible even from this distance. Now that I wouldn’t mind looking at—even though it’ll probably be similar to those books downstairs. She moves toward the corner in question, reaching it in a few strides. Then, crouching down to scrutinize the characters, all Eidos can determine is that the writing's contents are inscrutable to her. I figured as much. I wonder where I can learn to read that… The language may be ancient, modern or just plain gibberish, hard to say which. It probably would’ve helped me talk with that little green fellow—‘Luin’ was it? What is certain is that in her current state of ignorance, Eidos finds herself ill-equipped for the task of deciphering the script. Wait, how is it that I couldn’t talk to the sword, but I could talk to the wolf…?

  Restless feet carry her towards the portcullis. Oh, for the love of… The portcullis, large and of metallic construction as it is, promises to resist motion with all the might of gravity—its indefatigable ally. Peering through its checkered apertures, Eidos’ eyes overcome the barrier that would thwart her Falseflesh’s progress. Beyond it is a lengthy bridge, scaled like a shimmering serpent, slithering across the chasm it overlooks. Such an austere beauty to that chasm…

  The serpentine bridge seems to terminate at a similar gateway, at the opposite end of the chasm, though no portcullis obstructs passage there. And I have no desire to find out why. To the left of the portcullis seems to be an apparatus or mechanism by which it is lifted through some trick of magic or artifice—likely related to the inert crystal it houses. Best leave this alone; I don’t need anymore repetitions of what happened down in the Archives…

  Her hands reach for the crystal. No! Why, body?! You always do the opposite of what I think! But wait, then all I have to do is think the opposite of what I want! I’ll control you yet, body! The crystal is as it seemed: inert, devoid of any energy. It is likely used to power the portcullis mechanism, given its proximity to the gate. But dead it is and so it shall remain, as Eidos lacks the means to revive it.

  Dissatisfied with her current locus, Eidos seeks to shift her Falseflesh elsewhere. Feet guide her to the rising stairs. This stairwell is large, but not so large as the one below. Further differences arise in the square shape and lack of railing. But a kindred trait does it find in that here all light is likewise natural light seeping in through an opening at the stairs’ zenith.

  She begins her climb. Step summing upon step, an apparently unending ascension skywards tries Eidos' patience, stretching it to a hair's breadth. This is taking forever. That she makes her way up is clear; that there is any reward in this climb remains a mystery.

  But as she presses on, the passage seems to get ever warmer, and in time, she reaches the top—evidenced by the now-visible portal inviting her to exit the indifferent infinity of stairs.

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The Kaban Wilds - Tacriba

  Eidos scans the ruins now making up her surroundings, witnessing the remains of what once was a bustling town. Though the place appears to have lain deserted for uncounted centuries, the buildings yet stand, all but unscathed by the passage of time. The buildings may be untouched, but the courtyard seems pretty touched, if you ask me...

  One unique feature, likely the one responsible for the town’s desertion, mars the central courtyard the town encircles. Jutting up from the ground like teeth in some bestial maw are thick shards of glass, wider than Eidos is tall and twice again her height. Now, how did these things get here? As she walks by, these jagged fangs seem to shimmer in the meager light of the environs.

  What light does bathe the abandoned settlement appears to come from a break in the massive stone dome that shelters the place. Though, upon closer inspection the area is far too well illuminated for this to be the case. Turning her attention to the dome itself, Eidos discovers a subtle translucence to it, its stony appearance the result of the sun's rays being scattered, refracted and otherwise disturbed.

  Maybe I should take a look around the town. She moves toward the exit. Excellent. All according to plan.

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The Kaban Wilds - The Jenowin Plain

  The exit is surprisingly wide, perhaps enough for twenty men abreast. Its shallow depth surprises in equal measure; but a dozen strides delivers her to the blistering heat of a shadowless desert. The sun beats down upon cracked earth as a strong wind blows spiraling plumes of dust into the air. Straining her eyes, she spots a number of landmarks in the distance. What perilous places will my body take me to now?

  To the northwest, the fissure faces a mountain range, its jagged peaks looming oppressively over the flat desert sprawled before it. The mountains have an unnatural feel to them; they do not grow from gradually emerging foothills, but rather, more closely resemble stalagmites slowly deposited from above, wishing to join their heaven-mirrored twins. Behind the nearest peak, the tip of a massive work of rectilinear architecture hints at an imposing structure beyond. Clearly some place I’ll end up going. Extending forth from the mountain's belly are arching supports bearing aqueducts—one reaching her current location and the other crawling eastward. Aren’t aqueducts supposed to carry water? Why didn’t I see any in that building I came from?

  Eidos' eye follows this eastbound aqueduct across the horizon as it leads to a distant settlement. Whatever buildings might lie within, though, are hidden by a high wall—save the shimmering silver spire thrusting into the sky like a silent threat to the gods. The spire coolly deflects the sun’s angry attacks across the dry plain in a disinterested and unintentional act of defiance. Damn that thing is bright; it’s burning my eyes just looking at it.

  Past the towering spire, another architectural marvel spans a vast canyon. It appears to be a bridge of some sort. Lacking supports above or beneath, it is as an image frozen in time. It also looks just like that one by the portcullis… just bigger.

  On the eastern side of this land rift lies the high walls of a fortification. What lurks beyond, if anything does, is difficult to determine; either the fortification is at the edge of two precipitous cliffs, or a declining slope rolls out further east. And another dangerous place my body will inevitably take me…

  Save the bridge connecting the two walled-off settlements, the canyon is impassable, leaving the mountain source of the aqueduct and the silver tower as possible destinations. Perhaps attracted by the glittering sheen of silver or perhaps once more compelled, Eidos' feet are guided towards the spire. Then to the spire it is.

  She walks across the burning span of desert, one labored step after the next. Diminutive dust clouds dance with her feet at every step. Their combined masses join to form a wispy cape heralding her approach.

  Hours pass before she notices a mirror cloud rising off in the distance. Straining her eyes against the sun and dust, it is difficult to make anything out for certain among the shimmering waves of burning air. Perhaps it is a person moving its way towards her, or perhaps it is merely a mirage born of heat and thirst. Either way, I don’t much like it… so, let’s go investigate…

  Eidos strides with renewed vigor across the sand towards the flickering shape. Dammit, no! You’re supposed to do the opposite of what I think! As she draws nearer, she sees it is clearly no mirage. The figure is dressed in dusty robes, patched and mended so many times that the original fabric is hard to discern. Every stitch of thread, every scrap of cloth is dyed some shade of red. It walks with the aid of a large wooden staff, and a wide-brimmed hat obscures its features.

  About ten strides from Eidos, it raises its head to look upon her and speaks with something between a squawk and a song.

  “Well, well. I'd expected Viracocha to rebel in time, if only in part. But I must say, I didn't anticipate you... Tell me what they named you.”

  “My name is Eidos,” she replies. Yeah, but who are you? And who is ‘Viracocha’?

  Arching an eyebrow, he continues, “Curious that you give it so freely, not that resistance would do you much good. But if 'Eidos' is what they call you, perhaps that'll do. Where are you going, Eidos?”

  “I travel to the tower.” Maybe we shouldn’t tell him too much… until we know why he’s asking all these questions.

  “Oh, no. This will not do… I must insist that you make for the Duskfang mountains instead.”

  But she staunchly repeats, “I travel to the tower,” soon adding, “And I intend to stay on the path I've chosen.” Okay, maybe not a great idea to anger the weird desert traveler…

  “Ah, but dear Eidos,” he says mockingly, “you have no will, no memory, no meaning.”

  Suddenly, he locks Eidos in his gaze and she falls into the void of his dark pupils. She witnesses the traveler’s form burst into an exodus of myriad crows scattering from a clean-picked skeleton. They circle about blotting out the blood-red sky with their infinite blackness. And soon, they all coalesce into a massive inky hand, writhing like a man in his death throes.

  The hand lurches forward, reaching for her, grasping her, crushing her. She screams a soundless scream as blood leaks from every orifice. Her bones creak; her lungs collapse; her mind breaks. And then…

  “You will do as I say,” he continues as though nothing has just happened. “You will go to the Duskfang mountains. You will go to the township of Dazir. And you will not stop until you either reach your destination, or perish in the attempt…”

  Frantically examining herself for injuries, she finds no damage, no signs of harm at all. Then glaring at the stranger defiantly, she asserts her free will one last time, “I'm afraid I must forge my own path.” And moving to leave, adds, “Farewell, stranger.”

  With a knowing smirk, the rusty traveler simply turns and begins to walk away.

  Am I glad that’s over; what a creep! Eidos, unnerved but still determined, sets off across the desert plain toward the Duskfang mountains, to the township of Dazir. Wait, wasn’t I supposed to go to the… No, I must’ve misremembered.

  Distance grows between her and the desert wayfarer. Yet, she feels his ice-cold scrutiny as she departs, like a hawk eyeing some prairie vermin, more for sport than for sustenance. She jerks her head around to look back and sees only the stranger's back as he walks towards the ruins whence she came… She is tired. Yeah, I am pretty tired. Her mind rests as her feet drag her towards… Maybe I can just close my eyes… just for a little bit.