Erak hated the rain. It wasn’t currently raining, and of course, he had expected rain. It always rained during the fourteenth. Angie had always called rains in Reptilawn tears of the ((SYSTEM)). He rubbed his ring finger absentmindedly as he slogged through the mud leftover from the monsoon. Elves didn’t name the months. Giants did. Each month represented a type of animal. Each day a different animal in that criterion. What day you were born on would dictate your name, and, superstitiously, your magical inclinations.

He looked around at the mountains surrounding him. Their peaks were topped with snow as they reached up toward the sky. The Inth was full of valleys, most of which were currently flooded, but he could see the tops of green trees sticking out of the shallowest ones.

His leg sank a foot deep into the mud. He hissed and tried to pull it out of the hidden pothole. The trail, when there had been a trail, was not maintained whatsoever. It was practically a game trail, but it was also the only semi-trodden way through the Inth. The RNL and the Council didn’t want the other an easy way through the Inth, so the path stayed overgrown. Supposedly it was a remnant of the infrastructure of Eli’in. Occasionally, very occasionally, Erak would spot a flat rock that might’ve been a cobblestone at some point or would see unnatural-looking ditches that the rainwater seemed to flow out onto instead of the road, but there was nothing concrete.

He tugged on his ((MANA POOL)) and prepared his signature spell without thought. ((LIAR’S FIRE)). It was like fire but wasn’t affected by water, thankfully. He cast the spell, blue fire licked the mud around him until it dried out enough that he was able to jam his walking stick into the soft claylike dirt and pull his leg free, but not enough that it turned into unmovable earth. Erak kept walking.

Perhaps this was the road to Eli’in. Perhaps he would walk through the Inth until he died, or found himself in the territory of the Council. No matter, Erak thought, any option would certainly be better than facing his brother’s judgment. A small voice in his heart called him a coward and told him to return and die with some semblance of honor. To drown it out he began to hum. He had been born, according to the ice giant calendars at least, on the last day of the month Insectae. The day of the Ant. He had never had any inclination toward Entopathic magic. Another reason why the calendar was half-waned. Erran’d had been born several hours after him. A half-hour past midnight, to be exact. His birthday had passed into Dracone and he was born on the day of the Wyrmling.

This was never any consequence to the elves. Twins always celebrated two days anyway. Angie had always found it to be a sign of some kind. Erann’d had lorded it over him whenever the name days came up. He smiled sadly. Vali and Nafri had been born in separate months as well. Perhaps it was genetic. Serpentis and Caninae. Viper and Coyote. Erak stopped walking. He had been humming the snippet of the dwarfish ballad Arulan had sung.

He hadn’t even realized. The tune had been playing in the back of his mind for hours.

“In Inth’s loudest valley, ‘neath ashes that tally lay caverns of light…” Erak sang aloud musingly.

He had heard that song before. He was sure of it. He shook his head and kept walking. Perhaps a traveling dwarven jongleur? That was probably it. He had visited may towns during his ((READER)) apprenticeship, he must’ve heard it somewhere. His ears twitched with the damp breeze, and suddenly the memory clicked into place.

It was at the last isle, checking out that new flesh dungeon with Allucio when he had just started working for the guild. Allucio had gone to bed, but Erak had still been adjusting to being awake in the suntide and sleeping during moontide. The barkeep, what had his name been- Beren? Beaker? No. Berkley. That was it. Had been trying to drunkenly impress one of the waitresses, a water nymph whose name Erak didn’t remember. They had both seemed to old for that behavior, at least by their standards. That wasn’t important, what was important was that Berkley had tried to sing. Not well, he was rather drunk.

But it was that song.

And Erak had always been good at remembering songs. Father had thought he’d become a musician when he was younger. Dungeons liked music, it wasn’t something they were often exposed to, his master had cultivated that skill.

After furrowing his brow for a moment, Erak began to sing, slowly at first as his tongue stumbled over the words, but the longer he went on, the clearer his voice became. The wet conditions didn’t seem quite so miserable anymore.

“In years that passed in yonder days.

In foreign lands of yester maids,

There was in Inth’s golden crown, a city-

Eli’in.

Jewel of the mountains. Flower of stone.

Dream of every little child and hope of all Litone.

Built up from ash trees and burned in their stead.

Dream only Eli’in for Eli’in is dead.

Orcish prince and Orcish queen.

A castle built on Hope and leaves

Marble red and stained with eves

That passed in Eli’in.

The Eulogy has yet begun

The mountains burn yet no one won

Ogre breath and Orcish blood.

Split in Eli’in.

Jewel of the mountains. Flower of stone.

Dream of every little child and hope of all Litone.

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Built up from ash trees and burned in their stead.

Dream only Eli’in for Eli’in is dead.

They say that Hope did die that day

Yet left behind her heirs

To rekindle our Eli’in and

Peace for us to bear.

Eli’veri and Eli’ve will grow to ver and veria

The prince and queen will never meet.

And Death to death she’ll a bride.

And Eli’in forever ruled by the one called

Eli’vera.

Jewel of the mountains. Flower of stone.

Dream of every little child and hope of all Litone.

Built up from ash trees and burned in their stead.

Dream only Eli’in for Eli’in is dead.

In Inth’s loudest valley

beneath ashes that tally,

lay caverns of light

Where Eli’in lays ever night.

Ento into the dark if that is what you dare.

If not her ire you invoke, you will find her fair.

Listen dear future, I sing from the past.

You may call me Eli’veri and I shall be the last.

Jewel of the mountains. Flower of stone.

Dream of every little child and hope of all Litone.

Built up from ash trees and burned in their stead.

Dream only Eli’in for Eli’in is dead.

Look kindly on the wrath

Of the daughter of my kind

Or she will grind you under heel.

The Eli’ve was never kind

Listen closely to the sounds

You shall go to loudest valley.

You shall seek Refuge there,

But she is no Sanctuary.

Jewel of the mountains. Flower of stone.

Dream of every little child and hope of all Litone.

Built up from ash trees and burned in their stead.

Dream only Eli’in for Eli’in is dead.

To the future from the past.

My songs are my virtue.

And if my sister asks your name,

The Eli’veri sent you.”

Just as the last note faded from his throat, and Erak was just about to let a contented smile cross his face, he heard quiet possibly the most terrifying sound one could hear when they believe they are alone on a mountain and have just finished loudly proclaiming their existence to every beast around them.

Erak Eithidien froze and spun around because heard clapping. The heavy metallic sound of two gauntlets slamming together echoed through the mountains, chasing the last remnants of his voice that still hung in the air.

A woman clothed so extremely in armor that Erak couldn’t tell what species she was clapped slowly as she approached. Erak had no idea how she had gotten there.

“Oh.” She said, her voice was gravelly. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Hello,” Erak said, keeping his voice neutral. “I didn’t think I had an audience.”

“I’m sure half of the Inth heard you.” The woman said easily. “I’m just the one who got here first.”

“The acoustics are wonderful, aren’t they?” Erak said, ignoring the threat in her words.

She laughed and kept walking toward him slowly. “It's strange to elves this close to the Council’s land.”

“I’m a ((READER)). There were reports of a dungeon nearby. I have no intention of going past the Inth,” Erak said, not sure if he was lying or not.

“Reports from who?” She replied,

Erak feigned an unconcerned shrug. “I’d be drunk on moonbeams if they’d tell me.”

“Hm.” She said, “Rather disappointing.”

“Pardon?” Erak asked, taking a step back.

“I thought you would’ve realized by now.” She said, stopping her advancement.

There was a soft whoosh of air behind him, and before he could turn around he was pinned to the ground as sharp claws raked through his back. Erak screamed, trying to push the- the thing, whatever it was off him. The beast, more likely beastkin growled in Erak’s ear and pressed more weight into his claws. Erak cried out, unwilling tears springing to his eyes.

“Silence Elf.” A man’s voice said,

Erak bit his tongue. So it was a beastkin.

“Who are you? Why are you really here?” the man said,

Erak’s face was pressed into the mud, he tried to lift his head but found himself unable, he turned to the side the best he could and tried to put together a coherent answer with the pain in his back.

“My name is Erak. I am a ((READER)).” He felt a spell wash over him.

“He isn’t lying about having the class.” The woman said,

“I don’t trust him, Milady Thea. Who would announce themselves so blatantly?” The man said,

The woman, presumably Thea, responded, “An idiot or someone looking to be captured.”

“…I suppose that must make me an idiot then,” Erak said,

The man flexed his claws and Erak had to stifle a cry. “What do we do with him?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Does he look like Aren to you?” Thea said,

“I do not know. He and Aren are the only elves I’ve ever seen, they do look… alike, but I am unable to tell if that is my personal bias.” The man said,

Erak bit his tongue again before speaking. “Do you mean Erann’d? Erann’d Eithidien?”

The man snarled again but Thea must’ve signaled him because he stepped off of Erak’s back and slunk to her side.

“Perhaps.” Thea said, “You are an Eithidien, then?”

“Aye,” Erak said, pushing himself upward. He glanced at the beastkin, he was a wolf of some sort, although Erak had never seen a wolf with wings. It took him a moment to realize that the wolf was halfborn, and mentally filed it away as a minor curiosity.

“Brothers don’t mean much to Elves, so I’ve heard,” Thea said,

“Not exactly. Elven generations are fifty or so years long, you are typically only close to those born near you.” Erak said,

“Hm.” Thea said, “Is that so?”

“…yes,” Erak responded.

“And I suppose you’ll be telling me next that Aren and you are quite close, and afterward we will apologize and bring you to our campsite for tea?” Thea said smiling.

“We are… rather close in age, but I have no interest in associating with either of you or my brother if I can help it, as I said previously,” Erak said, standing up, ignoring the dulled stabbing in his back, he had lost most of his feeling there anyway. “I am a ((READER)) and I am here to find a Dungeon.”

“Hm,” Thea said again. “Very noble, but I am afraid that we can’t risk the safety of the princess... Quillian?”

Light flashed in Erak’s palm, he spun around and threw it at the wolf mid-pounce. Quilian yelped blinking furiously, Erak dipped out of the way of his attack and the wolf crashed into the mud. Erak didn’t spare a glance toward Thea and began to run. Casting a large wall of blue fire behind him.

His heart beat in his mouth. He wasn’t a warrior. He had fought in several wars, as most adult men in Litone had, and being an Elf, his military career was longer than most. But Erak was a spellcaster, whose best spells had been tweaked and fine-tuned to be specifically useful in his duties as a ((READER)). He had control, but not power. A halfborn beastkin, who had most likely been a soldier since birth, and a strange woman with some magic aptitude.

There was no point in learning magic that could fight against a dungeon. If a ((READER)) had to fight a dungeon, they had already lost. Erak heard a low buzz, faint in his ears. He pushed more power into his sprint, thinking a spell was being charged behind him.

He ran for several minutes before realizing the sound was coming from one of the nearby valleys. He almost stopped running when he realized that it looked completely dry. Erak’s breath hitched in his throat. His quest pinged in the corner of his vision.

Main Quest Updated:

TRAVEL TO ELI’IN:

* Ento into the loudest valley.

He didn’t have time to be distracted by the apparent misspelling of ‘enter’. Erak heard a loud howl behind him and ran for the valley.