“I have nothing of interest for you, Niccoli Ven Faust.” Hera replied passively, no emotion leaking into her words or movements. The Lich child on the other hand simply preened at the words, as if hearing his own name was victory enough.
“Well that's perfectly fine with me, tomb sleeper, because who would want to listen to your gibberish anyways?” The child mocked, yet while he did so I watched a small, ghostly orb appear in his hand. He played with it as he spoke, twisting and contorting the thing while he did so. “So before I wipe this kingdom clean of life, you’ll have the honor of listening to the words of Niccoli-”
The arrow I let loose struck the Lich near instantly, yet just before impact a letter, no, a rune, caught and shattered the blow.
Niccoli sat there, frozen in place, seemingly unable to understand what I had done. Hera and Wander on the other hand, slowly turned towards me, a look of horror coloring what little of the saint's expression I could see.
“What?” I said while glancing between the both with confusion, “He was starting to monologue.” Wander broke first, putting a hand to his face he burst into a laughter that echoed across this battle-ridden room. Hera’s horror morphed into familiar exasperation, like this was something that had happened before, and though she gave no words I was glad to know that Cynthia would have done the same.
Then the keep began to roil. Stone and mortar fell away like rain, and with an awful lurch the ceiling of the keep was peeled away, revealing to all within the maelstrom that raged overhead. Yet the storm was not composed of earthly or heavenly elements, but was sourced instead by the hundreds of thousands of churning souls that wailed and moaned overhead, a literal Soul-Storm. Though the sight and sound was horrid, Niccoli could be heard even easier than before, as if the sound of his voice was killing off its competition.
“The words of Niccoli Ven Faust are worth more than divine scripture, yet not only am I rudely interrupted by some grubby sow, but I'm then ignored afterwards as well!” The thing he had been toying with in his hands, which I now realized with context above was some poor captured soul, was suddenly crushed in the child's death grip. “Your life is worthless! But that's fine, for you see, in death I'll give it the only meaning that matters.” The Lich expressed as even more specters of the dead began to swirl around them. It was terrifying. There was no denying it, he was horrifying in every capacity. But…
Wander was still smiling.
He had stopped laughing when the roof was ripped from the fortress, but his smile never left, and his hand, which was still held to his eyes, still remained. Then, when the child finished his promise, Wander did the one thing I didn't think I would ever see. He pushed his hand up, and exposed his Ę̸̺͇̬̀Y̶͎̪̐͑̉́͝Ẽ̶̛̦̙͔͜ͅS̷̀͝ͅ.
I understood then, that the mortal shape Wander held was only a convention. I saw, for the briefest moment, what Wander saw every time he looked into a mirror. I looked into the eyes of time, and saw the universe. He breathed out deeply, and it was as cold as the starlit deserts that lie beyond our sun felt realm. Thankfully, for I felt my sanity begin to crack then, he looked away from me and towards the Lich child. Though the child's smirk faltered, it was either a testament to his power or his ego that that was all he did.
Once more I was reminded of how small I still was in this journey of mine.
“When I'm through with you,” Niccoli swore as his own eyes became pools of Unlife energy, “Those eyes will reflect me, and me alone!” Hera mumbled words in a tone that mankind should have been unable to vocalize while suddenly extending a hand. What I could only describe as arcane energy formed into symbols and rings. They hung for less than a second before springing forth into a translucent barrier of pure energy that probably should have been invisible to the naked eye, though I saw it all the same. It surrounded us completely, and not a moment too soon either, as the child shot forth his own spell. Although I noticed under the harsh glare of the ray that the child unleashed it with a gesture of the hand alone.
The necromantic death ray struck our barrier, and judging how the stone around us peeled away and crumbled to dust, I was sure that had the ray struck true someone would have died. A roar overhead drew my gaze then, and a second later Thric landed behind our barrier with the force of a meteor. Wander suddenly put a hand on their hip then, and with a voice that was not his own they addressed me while drawing forth their knife.
“Time to get going champ, the professionals have a job to do.” The glee that was dripping from their voice was slightly disturbing, and it was such a turnabout from their usual demeanor that I was feeling whiplash even as I turned towards the dragon. Though the feeling from them was not unfamiliar. Indeed, the moment I recognized who it was I was speaking to I couldn't help but shake my head in slight disbelief and… awe.
“Alright Jekyll, don't have too much fun now.” I lightly taunted the previously shadowy companion who in turn gave a hearty, very much not Wander, laugh in response. The barrier dropped then, and I instantly jumped on the head of my dragon friend. Thric quickly took flight, and while Niccoli sent another death ray our way Hera intercepted the ray with a blast of what I could only describe as oily-black orbs that destroyed, or perhaps absorbed, the very energy that composed the spell. The Lich child began yelling and shouting something, but I was too far away to hear any of it.
Still, the situation was quite dire as like rain, spirits from the Soul-Storm fell into the ruins of the old Lich’s fortress. They quickly descended upon my friend's position, those veiled spirits, and I was unsure as to how the two would fight back. The answer came from Hera, who responded with an unexpected wrath.
Once more a god appeared, and Hera was its avatar. Her body radiated power, beneath her own veil two spotlights of blue and violet lights exploded forth, and when she spoke her voice resonated with godlike intensity. Even though I had yet to meet a true god, some primal instinct told me I was looking at one.
The spirits had managed to close into a measly five feet when Hera unleashed her divine spark, and every soul within sixty feet of her vanished. They simply winked out, as if banished back to the realm of the dead. Still the rain of souls didn't stop, and the dead continued to pour their way into Hera’s divine aura where they, too, ceased to be.
I suppose it was only natural that Niccoli seemed perfectly fine within that aura of Hera’s, as were the spirits that orbited him, which was where Wander, or Jekyll I suppose, took over. Just before he disappeared, his jacket glowed with the light of constellations as the two’s movements became faster, jerking suddenly to and fro with unnatural speed. It was like time was being twisted to their combined benefit. Teleporting in front of Niccoli as space-time began to bend in ways not natural, it seemed that Jekyll's apparel tried to alter the lich's time too. Unfortunately the slowing effect it was causing on the spirits around Niccoli failed to affect the lich, who seemed quite smug about the situation.
With his combat knife glowing a cosmic blue he made to strike a blow, but that same rune that blocked my arrow blocked his blow as well. Yet Jekyll didn't seem to mind, as strangely their dagger removed the rune a moment later, much to the child's shock. What was strange to me though was that their blow didn't just destroy or dispel the rune, but instead seemed to cause it to never have been to begin with, not that I could say how I knew that. Unfortunately, though speed was with Jekyll, their next strike hit another barrier, this one seemingly composed of pure Unlife energy.
Even more worrying was that Jekyll's dagger didn't remove this one, and before he could make another swipe, Niccoli gave his response. Holding out both hands, he channeled a spell with each, while crafting another seemingly with thought alone. Jekyll was too close now to avoid the child's lazy wave, two fingers outstretched as they did so, which held a spell that split their chest open as it made its pass. Simultaneously their other hand merely pointed towards Hera, the like the lich I had fought earlier, the digit glowing malevolently as she suddenly convulsed and writhed in pain. Her skin began to zombify, causing the spell she had been preparing to cease in her hands.
Though obviously in pain, it was brief and seemed to only anger her more than harm her. Unfortunately, the spell the child had been invoking with thought began unraveling the threads of reality around it, repurposing them for its own use. It was as if the essence of gods was being weaved into being, and from their spectral maw poured forth a smog of vile black entropy. It rotted and atrophied everything before it, robbing it of substance and strength.
Hera and Jekyll stumbled back from the smog, looking as if they hadn’t eaten or slept in months. They were effectively skin and bone, and it was horrifying to look at. Niccoli seemed to start monologuing then, though he worked as he talked, calling forth and infusing even more sinister specters into being. Each of the ghosts were capable of existing within Hera’s divine aura, though the ones that rained from the sky continued to perish upon contact with it. Unlike the spirits that orbited him, these ones began… haunting the two, for a lack of better word.
That aura, the divine energy that Hera had been channeling, suddenly collapsed inward as Hera's divine voice echoed throughout the land as peels of thunder, though I didn't understand a word she said. Nor was I sure how a human body could pronounce such syllables to begin with, god or not. Like the lich before her, she unraveled reality around her before reusing said strands. Hera began to shape and morph a magic spell which, thanks to Jekyll's strange time altering apparel, went off before the Lich could properly respond. With the spell's completion came two drops of pure light that fell from the heavens above. They lightly fell onto the two Arch-Lords, and the atrophy that ravaged their forms simply washed away, and though their wounds remained they seemed free from the pain and exhaustion they had suffered so far.
Jekyll went back on the offensive, and though the Lich summoned an arcane shield in the form of a large glyph, it meant nothing when it seemingly vanished in making contact with Jekyll’s knife. Still, that black Unlife barrier continued to absorb every strike. The situation was made even worse with the spirits. The ones Niccoli had summoned directly attempted to intercept all of Jekyll's strikes, throwing his mark off at best and negating hits at worst. And when he did land a blow, the souls would respond with clawing hands and wailing blows, ripping apart his undershirt and necrotizing flesh. Surprisingly his jacket seemed unaffected by the ghosts, though everything else was not so fortunate. Then there was the Soul-Storm.
With Hera’s aura gone those spirits were now flowing into the arena like a spectral flood. I was quite worried for a moment, though just before the spirits completely flooded the two Hera re-sparked her divine core, the aura returning in time to smother and destroy the ghosts once again. Hera then tried to quickly cast another spell, but without even looking, the Lich re-weaved more divine energy while making a counterclockwise motion with his hand, index finger extended. The energy for the spell she had gathered suddenly froze, and then reversed itself back into her body. The reversal was so forceful that it caused the overlapping energy to detonate, blowing open a hole in her shoulder. The explosion would have killed a normal human with ease, and yet even though I could see a portion of blackened flesh and bone, she did not but grit her teeth in defiance as she readied herself.
Alas, Niccoli took this moment to properly respond. With a backhand movement of a hand, a blast of energy sent Jekyll flying back and next to Hera. With his other hand he turned his wrist in a circle pattern, arcane words flying from his lips as he did so, and with the motion complete the two lords staggered as liquids began pouring from their pores. Once more I recognized the spell as one the other lich had used before, and though I worried for the two’s fate, it seemed I had yet again underestimated their constitution. While it seemed to be a painful and damaging experience, the most it did was stagger them. Spitting out the fluid, they stood before the lich determined.
They both seemed ready to continue, but the child had had enough it seemed. Unlike before where he prepared several spells at once, this time he conjured forth a host of glyphs and arcane words, at the center of which was another re-weaving of reality. With one hand extended, he used the other to conjure forth an orb of energy in the extended hand. Then, with the other hand out he summoned another orb within it. The two orbs were brought together as the energies merged, the new orb spinning and growing with exponential force.
The two lords tried to stop the Lich child, but the spirits surrounding them did not allow them even a single step. The accompanying glyphs and text seemed to be not just empowering the spell, but also protecting it as evidenced when Hera managed to send forth a blast of that oily anti-magic in an attempt to stop them. It did nothing to halt the spell, and a second before it finished Jekyll disappeared suddenly and without trace. Then with a sudden silencing the orb teleported right in front of Hera and expanded instantly.
The world burned white.
The piercing light and trumpeting thunder nearly sent me into unconsciousness alone, and yet as the seconds passed I knew something was off. Though they burned, my sight remained without issue and I could see through the dust and debris that had been kicked up that Thric and I had most certainly been within the range of that blast. As was everything else in a several miles radius as well, it seemed. Thankfully the blast seemed to have dispersed the Soul-Storm, and I saw no spirits remaining either. Looking around, I found that the two of us were encased in an ethereal golden armor, which I could only assume was the reason either of us still existed. A hand found my shoulder then, and I found it belonged to our missing Jekyll. They gave a tired, if not satisfied smile and motioned towards the edge of where the conflict had taken place.
I tried to say something but realized that I couldn't hear anything at all, and so gave a nod to show I understood. They flashed me a cocky smile then before disappearing, and I looked down over to where the fight had been taking place a moment prior while directing Thric on where to land. There was nothing left to show that a keep had been here, save the three individuals that now lied at its center. Hera for her part looked completely unharmed as a barrier of silver light faded away, her divine spark now gone once more.
The three seemed to trade words for a moment, with the Lich child looking quite amused. He then shifted his gaze over to me for the briefest of seconds before they slid off and he began casting another spell, though no one tried to stop him this time. He snapped his fingers, disappearing with the arcane words echoing through the deathly, white air.
The entire land had been bleached white, and nothing but ash remained of the earth. It would most likely be centuries before this place resembled anything like it had before. The two Lords then began walking towards us, and as they did I was left wondering just what in the depths of the Old Hell had happened.
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“I feel like something important just happened, but I couldn't say how or why. Or even what for that matter.” I complained to the two lords as we flew back to Andtin. Thric had said nothing so far, while the Goddess Hera and the thing that was Wander kept to each other. Jekyll seemed to have ceased their possession, not that I understood that aspect either. Thankfully, if nothing else, the wounds they had been given were washed away by Hera with seemingly no effort.
“And I'm deciding that right now, I'm going to hear some answers.” I told them, crossing my arms as I did so. Wander chuckled at my proclamation while Hera gave a bit of a sigh at it.
“Go on,” She told me with a roll of her hand, “ask away.” I thought deeply then on all that I had seen, as well as all that I had heard. Several things came to mind, and I quickly built a mental list in preparation for what would come next.
“Who was that?” I bid them a reply, needing to know who my companions just danced with.
“Niccoli Ven Faust, The Lich Child, number three of the thirty-two Immortal dead, ranks eight on the Mythic scale and an all around spoiled little brat.” Wander stated as he fished something from his pocket, a long gray stick of some kind. My mind went blank at the myriad of terms I’d not heard before. So I shuffled my list as I moved something new into it.
“Why did he leave?”
“For all his strength and intellect, he is and will forever be a child.” Wander revealed as, with a snap of his fingers, the end of the stick caught fire. “And children are easy to manipulate if you know how. Such is his curse.” He drew deep the smoke, blowing it out later into the passing wind as we flew. Ignoring the strange actions he just took, I continued my interrogation.
“Immortal dead?” He smirked as I asked, shuffling around and making himself more comfortable as he did so.
“They are the aristocratic elite among the undead of the world. You see, the original group were those of the dead who escaped from their role as "cannon fodder" for Welkin. These days it currently refers to the distinct factions amongst the Undead, due to most of the old guard having been succeeded by new generations.
“Everything you say just makes me want to scream.” I deadpan told him. His laugh was raucous and joyful, even as sighed as loudly as I could. “Alright, well, I'm still lost but next question; Mythic scale?” He breathed deep again with the stick before answering.
“A scale we use to vaguely determine how powerful an Ea’pik individual is.” Wander explained unhelpfully, once again stroking my desire to throttle him.
“Just great. So,” I began to say, both annoyed and… a bit hesitant, on what would be revealed. “Magic, not Magecraft but Magic, is real?”
“Well, I never said it wasn't.” Hera jumped in then, drawing my partial ire as well.
“You said it was an impossible wall, one that couldn't be climbed.” I posited forth, trying to understand the contradiction being told here. I could already feel my head begin to ache, and I was sure it was going to get worse the longer we talked.
“Indeed it is, and that is still true.” Yup, definitely getting worse.
“Then how-” I began before she cut me off with a wave of her hand.
“It's simple. If your objective is impossible to achieve, then you yourself must become impossible. You must become… Ea’pik.” I tried the word on my tongue, and felt something… strange, as I did so. I voiced the question with the obvious answer next.
“And are you?”
“Yes, we are.” She said while gesturing to Wander. “In fact, every member of the Arch-lords is Ea’pik.” The image of that Soul-storm entered my mind, how these two so casually engaged its summoner, someone I knew I had no hope in even touching without help. And yet…
“Am I…?” Though the last word refused to leave my throat, Hera seemed to understand what I was trying to say all the same.
“You were. Whether you still retain that title remains to be seen.” I furrowed my brows at the response.
“Is that a title you can lose?”
“I don't believe so, but at the moment it still remains to be seen if it can.” I wasn't sure if she was simply being optimistic, or if my case was truly so bizarre that she actually had no idea and was simply praying for the favorable outcome.
“What does it even mean? Ea’pik, I mean.” I openly pondered, both hoping for an answer and afraid to hear it as well.
“That is… hard to explain. And I don't mean that the words aren't there, I mean trying to explain something that is inherently unexplainable is, simply put, difficult. Especially since how this manifests in rarely the same. But, if one had to attribute definition to something that can't have one, then it would be to invoke that which does not or cannot exist.” She said as I rubbed the temple of my head, trying desperately to massage the pain away. She ignored my discomfort as the explanation continued
“It is to shape destiny and space and time with presence, will, and might alone. But most importantly of all, it is to look upon the divine, hear their decrees, and reject them. To be Ea’pik, is to be like that of the gods, lesser form it is. You may not survive the denial, but to be able to do so in the first place is what truly makes one Ea’pik. It's what makes you Impossible.”
“That doesn't sound very easy to achieve.” It sounded impossible to be frank, but then I suppose that was the point.
“Indeed, the road one must travel to even have a chance of walking the Ea’pik road is long and grueling.” She stopped for a moment, as if trying to find a way to get across her thoughts. “Imagine a story with me for a moment, my friend. Imagine, a hero. Well, a commoner to start with. Someone who has never experienced true pain or hardship. A naïve soul, but no longer. After all, there can't be a hero without a villain and ours is a master of the dead. Lich’s may be able to act with good intention, but as an inherent evil they will never not make a good villain to any story.” She explained with patients not seen so far.
“Now, our story begins with a tragedy. The dead swarm and kill everything and everyone our Hero knows and loves. Driven by vengeance, our hero alongside other like minded individuals take the fight to their sworn foe. Years and years of planning, and training, and hardship lead to an epic conflict with the fate of the world in the balance. The battle is long, and harsh, and sacrifice aplenty is made for the chance at victory. But, in the end, our Hero prevails and the villain is destroyed.” I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be captivated by the imaginary tale, but I was. I could picture every event as if they were happening right in front of me. It was glorious indeed.
“Their name will go down in history, songs of their trials will be sung by bards for ages to come! Nothing remains in the world of man to challenge their might! For so many, this would be the end of their tale. After all, with all the pain and suffering and loss they have suffered, why would anyone wish to continue? Why would any sane individual choose suffering and pain over a deserved rest and end?” For some reason, I could imagine several answers to her rhetorical question. I kept them to myself, unsure if she would appreciate the interruption.
“But… for those that choose the road of continued pain… there lies a chance at eternal glory as well. After all, it's one thing for the world of man to recognize you. It's another thing entirely for the gods themselves to do so.” Glory eternal. The right to be seen and known by those that will last until the end of endings. In terms of motivation that seemed to me to be a pretty good one, all things considered. Yet at the same time, another thought was clouding my understanding.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“So after everything they went through,” I begin tentatively, “this Hero of ours, their struggles and loss, their triumphs and glory, it was nothing but a… background? A prerequisite?” The thought was strange. That such an epic would simply be a lead into the true epic was strange to hear.
“But of course. For the world that those of Ea’pik live in is not one that even the most accomplished of wayfarers can comprehend. And as I've just explained, those looking to even reach its road are required to perform a mighty deed of legendary proportions. The act of becoming Ea’pik requires more than simply defeating a mighty opponent or achieving great power. It must be a legendary act that affects change on a scale that few others have ever achieved. Defeating an enemy of apocalyptic power, recovering a mythical item of unfathomable mystery, or discovering a new world unknown to even the divine; these are Ea’pik deeds that open the door to greatness.”
“Is it worth it?” I already knew that I wouldn't get an answer to that question. Still, I felt that I needed to voice it all the same.
“That is a question that only the self can answer, and only at paths end will it have any meaning.” About what I expected to hear, disappointing to hear as it was. I quickly pivoted then, needing to know as much as I could of this phenomenon known as Ea’pik.
“So, Ea’pik individuals are more skilled than their regular counterparts?” Perhaps not my best worded question, but I wasn't really sure where to begin with something like this. Something Hera seemed to pick up on, considering the small smile she gave as she replied.
“That is like asking if a lake is larger than an ocean my friend. The skills they possess are legendary, and with them they can accomplish skills that are to the un-Ea’pik, impossible.” It was a fair response and one where I expected this dialogue to end. But it seemed Hera was willing to expand more on this topic because she continued of her own volition.
“So then, what does a challenge to an Ea’pik look like? Well, what constitutes a nearly impossible task in the eyes of an Ea’pik individual is a different category of challenge entirely. Because of their potential, Ea’pik may attempt feats well beyond the intended scope of their associated skills and talents. When successfully performed, these feats allow an Ea'pik to perform activities that appear magical or supernatural to those observing them.” I was hanging onto every word.
“Imagine a Ea’pik being of pure strength, someone who has spent all of their time mastering their physique. They could climb a perfectly smooth surface with no handholds or purchases, crawling across the ceiling like a spider, or knock a mountain over all with strength alone.” The image she was painting was terrifying, yet strangely alluring. I was enraptured, and would remain so as she continued her examples.
“Imagine a being of dexterity, grace, and unbelieve body manipulation, passing through spaces that are far too small to accommodate a creature of their size, such as between bars in a cell, into minuscule crevices, or through pipes meant only for liquids. Or perhaps, they manage to steal something in plain sight with such speed that it appears as if it simply vanished into thin air.”
“Imagine being able to regrow a lost limb through natural means alone in the span of seconds, or being able to perfectly understand all the properties of an object you observe, even if you’ve never seen it before. Imagine, being able to read a book held by someone else by perceiving the reflection of the pages in their eyes. Or, gods forbid, you imagine silencing an over talkative god, using an angry glare alone.” Hera ended her talk with a sigh, one that spoke of a history that had seen all these examples and far more. She stared out into the horizon as she started up her next words.
“Do you understand my friend, why even a single being of such an existence is concerning? Why so many wish that none had ever taken that next step?” Once more she sighed heavily, the thought seeming to weigh down on her like nothing before. “But they did, and so in turn did we. We Lords of our vocations, of our histories, have walked the road of pain, so that the world may be spared those who walk it with ill intent. That is the true duty of the Arch-lords. To fight and conquer those who cannot be conquered or fought.” Strange, she spoke of glory and eternal acknowledgement just a moment before with awe. Yet, she wishes that it never came to be? I was probably missing context, as usual, but still. Wishing that such epics could never come to be just seemed… wrong.
“There is much more to learn about Ea’pik my friend. How such individuals have shaped and changed the worlds around us, how they continue to do so still. But I am tired, and wish to rest. As you will discover in time, though I am Ea’pik I am still mortal in many ways still. We can continue later.” She crossed her arms and lowered her head then, and it was obvious that she wished to be alone now.
I turned to Wander for talk, but it seemed that they were done with conversation as well, holding that still burning stick in their fingers as they stared out into the night. So I turned inwards towards myself, pulling forth my guide book in order to seek what answers I could.
Starting with…
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The city came into view after a time, and it was with reluctance that I put my guide book away once more, stretching my arms out as I got the blood flowing once more. Thric landed at the front gates with a sizable impact, blowing dust and debris in the face of the few who were waiting to greet us.
“Welcome back Lords, how was your fight?” Fitzgerald greeted us with a slight bow, his armor now clean while his helmet was strapped to his waist. Gael gave a grunt of annoyance as he brushed dust off his coat.
“I'll be honest, after that light show earlier I didn't think we’d be welcoming anybody back.” Gael declared with a sigh, though for what specifically I couldn't say. He then reached into his jacket and handed Fitzgerald a bag while we dismounted from Thric, who seemed just a moment away from throwing us off him. Or at least the gaze he was giving us was telling me that.
“Worry not captain, it takes more than a Prominent Sphere to kill us.” I could only assume she was speaking about the spell that had bleached the land white. Something the two before us seemed to pick up on as well, if they look they gave both each other and us was anything to go by.
“On another note, I would contact the Evergreen Wardens when you can, we left quite a mess back there.” I sighed internally as yet another group was added to my mental checklist of things to look into. Gael seemed to be in my boat, though Fitzgerald just nodded in agreement. Hera then turned to Gael, giving him a kind smile as she did.
“Now captain, can I assume that you and your troops have been properly compensated for your defense effort?” I was taken aback by her question, as was Gael, but he responded quickly after.
“Why yes, we have. Fitzgerald and Vara not only compensated our efforts, but have also been indispensable in explaining the economy and currency of the land.” Gael explained while giving the knight captain a nod. The knight nodded back with a grin, though he said nothing back as he focused on us.
“Can I assume that your mission was a success?” He questioned Hera, who responded back with a huff of annoyance.
“Well, I dare say we wouldn't be here if our mission wasn't.” The Knight captain bowed again at the comment while replying.
“Forgive me, but I needed to make sure.” Hera seemed to dismiss the comment with a lazy wave as she started walking past them.
“Our rooms are prepared?” Though a question, it felt more like a statement. The knight nodded as he began to walk behind her and to the side, seemingly both following and leading her. Wander followed along and, without much else to do so did Gael and I. Looking back at Thric for a moment, I was curious to see what he would do but he was already curling up around the gate as we left, so I let him be.
“Captain Gael,” Hera began, addressing the captain once more. “Are you still interested in traveling to Domadun?”
“That is correct mam, and if that is your destination as well we'd be grateful to join you.”
“But of course. I always finish what I start, captain, and this is no different.” She shifted her head in apparent thought before continuing. “We leave in twenty-four hours.”
“Well be ready to march then.” He stated confidently. I Stretched my arms above my head then with a yawn, before locking them behind my head in comfort as we continued to walk through the streets.
“Excellent. Cynthia, my friend?” My eyes went slightly wide from being addressed, though I responded back accordingly.
“Uh, yeah?”
“You have twenty-four hours to enjoy the culture of Andtin. Spend it well.” I stopped in my tracks, suddenly very out of my depth as the rest of the group moved on without me. It took only seconds before I was completely alone with the strangers that walked the cobbled street.
“Huh?” It was perhaps a little late, but only then did the situation click. So it was with wide eyes that I gazed upon my surroundings for the first, true, time. Buildings of strange design populated either side of the street, some appearing to be homes, others shops, and others still combinations of the two. Stranger still were those with signs hanging out from the building, depicting images of night creatures or lunar phases alongside catchy names like; “Lunar Tears”, or “Wolvines”, or perhaps the one that held the most customers, “The Blind Bat”. It was this one that drew my attention.
Making my way over to the side of one of the building's windows, I leaned against it with what I hoped was very little conspicuousness. Standing there for a few seconds to sell it, I tried my best to “accidentally” look through the window and into the building. The people within seemed to be a combination of the local militia, the town's citizens, and the soldiers we had picked up from the forest. They were… celebrating? Talking? Enjoying the culture? I narrowed my eyes as I slightly glared upon the ones whose culture I needed to inquire into. But how to go about that? It's not like they seemed to need anything-.
“So,” Arma commented as I jumped back in surprise, “looking to have a drink?”
“Uh,” I drawled out, trying to gather my thoughts for the sudden confrontation. “I mean… maybe?” He gave me a raised eyebrow at my answer. “Look, I'm trying to… get to know the culture?” The eyebrow remained raised as he spoke.
“I know you said you lived a secluded life but-” He shook his head as a thought seemed to cross his mind. “No, never mind me. Look Mrs. Cynthia, we owe you and your companions a great deal for the service you have rendered. For guiding us out of those woods, and to this town, and from the sounds of it greater places still. I say this because we owe you, and if you need anything…” He didn't finish the sentence, not that he needed to.
“I want to get to know these people. Not just their words, but their thoughts, their feelings, their histories. I want to know their souls.”
“Hmm, I see…” He sat in thought for a moment, seemingly weighing something on his mind before responding. “You want to get people to talk huh? To have them spill to you whatever your heart's desire? Well, it would be a lie to say I can't help you there. Getting people to talk is a bit of my specialty when it comes to places like these.” I felt a smile bloom as I held my arms close to my chest in excitement.
“Please teach me everything you know, Sir. Arma!” He grunted slightly as he rubbed the back of his head.
“I don't know about everything, but I'll tell you what I can. Just remember that what I'm about to tell you, it wasn't me that did so yeah?” He asked while stretching his back and releasing a pop. He then started looking over my form, gazing up and down my body slowly before a crooked smile appeared before his features. “Now for starters, something only someone with a body like yours could do.” I tilted my head in confusion as I put a hand on my hip, curious to see where this would go.
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“THE NEXT ROUNDS ON ME!” I shouted to the collective hurrahs and cheers of the bar, raising the mug of whatever drink I had procured high. The table I had sought out joined me in cheers as we taped our mugs and drank deep the liquor. I made sure to express as much confidence as I could, not shying away from the looks and words tossed my why, not that I could see why I would want to to begin with. While I was thanked and even praised by those around me, I instead turned inwards and reviewed what Arma had said.
“You can't force people to talk, but if you do things right you don't need to.” I glanced around the table's occupants, its members being of Arma’s own squad curious enough as well as a few of the dhampir guard. Arma himself wasn't here unfortunately, something about work never ending, but it was also perhaps a blessing as well. My table was very animated as they spoke and traded tales, and while it wasn't of any real substance it was a good start for my goal.
“Make your targets feel at home. After all, a comfortable tongue is a relaxed tongue, which also makes it a loose tongue to boot. Alcohol is helpful if you have it, but not necessary if you don't. What matters most is how good the company is.”
“Say Cynthia, where were you during the fight?” Guff called out towards me, a twinkle in his eye as he did. I gave him a kind smile as I replied, laying an elbow on the table a while I rested my head in it.
“I was providing overwatch for your forces, it was honestly pretty bland though. Nothing like your engagement Guff.” The private laughed slightly in apparent embarrassment as the others jibed with each other. Seeing that the private was starting to recede in his new found embarrassment, I tried to give him something else to go on. “I heard that you and your squad fought off the dead in direct melee private, what was it like?” His eyes widened as he and those around him started the tale of their encounter.
“Something you’ll notice as time goes on my friend, is that simply being a good listener is enough to get people to keep talking. All you need to do is SEEM interested, even if you're not. This is important for getting what you want out of the conversation.” I put the words to practice, letting the atmosphere settle as tales continued to spread of glory and war.
“Say, what was your company called again?” One of the knights said to the soldier, Dirk. His response was cool, measured, a recurrence I'd come to recognize from the man.
“The Caliban Squirk!” The soldier clarified, “Named after the beasts of the same kind in Caliban, rabid things that devour everything in sight.” I nodded along quietly, before suddenly realizing that this was the first time I’d heard what the company called themselves. I’d somehow managed to never hear, nor consider asking what it was, not that I would tell anyone that.
“Say Kry,” I began while leaning towards the female soldier, who had remained quite reserved so far, “With the prowess you and yours showed during the fight, surely you must have been renowned as great warriors in the world you came from?” The soldier blinked owlishly for a moment before launching into a sudden tirade, nearly raving at the incompetence of the other forces she had witnessed in her time back home, before waxing nigh poetically at the battles she and hers had taken part in. I nodded, making sure to let her know I was listening to every word.
“Keep eye contact, ask questions when appropriate, nod along when they speak.” Kry ended up settling down when food was brought to the table, an opportunity to get some others speaking.
“Forgive my questioning, but I've never met a dhampir before,” I started towards one of the town guards who had joined us, “Are you a type of fairy by any chance?” The knight in question seemed stunned for a moment as they reached for their food, bursting into laughter a moment later. He then would go on to correct my assumption, to my delight of course.
“No no, no elf or fairy of any kind here. We would be closer to those beings like vampires than anything else, though lesser we are.” I nodded along as thoughts came to mind.
“Try to avoid direct questions if you can, instead go with softer approaches. If someone doesn't care to elaborate, try guessing. People don't like it when someone gets the wrong idea, so if your guess is wrong, most will try to correct the assumption.”
“I've never met a vampire either, though my companions and I did just fight a lich recently. Are they similar?” The news seemed to startle those around me, though thankfully the knight continued before any else one could butt in.
“I believe the general consensus is that Liches are greater than Vampires. Though, comparing the two may be like comparing two different raging rivers, at least to someone like me.” His statement seemed to “bring down the mood”, at least as Arma called it. Which was not constructive to my desires.
“There's no need to bring yourself so low sir knight. Though my fight with the lich was a very challenging encounter indeed, I can say with confidence as a fellow combatant of the dead that your presence would have been more than welcomed.” I told the knight while bumping my mug against his own.
“Try to be relatable. If all you do is ask questions then some may feel like they’re in an interrogation.” Blood seemed to rush to the knight's face as he continued onwards with the topic, though for what reason I couldn't say. Must have been a dhampir thing.
“I've never met either, though I know vampires by reputation quite well. Loveless night stalkers they are, ethereal monsters possessing power beyond any mortal. They drink deep the blood of the living, and are immortal by trade. Or at least as I hear it.” He finished with a shrug. I nodded respectfully as the table began to work itself into a storm of murmurs and tales.
They’re talk took them to Andtins history, how it used to be a small coastal town in some county called Kingsfin, until one day the townsfolk found themselves here. Lost and confused, they were scouted by denizens of Domadun and, after some time, were invited to join its kingdom. It was then over the years converted into the frontier fortress we see today. As the knights continued they mentioned that while Antin, as it is now, is over several centuries old some of its original occupants remain. Rumors abound that the Knight commander, the knight lieutenant, and the town's mayor all come from before the time of the Unveiling, whether it's true or not is another story.
On and on the night went, with nothing of any substance being uttered again. It was nice though, smiling and nodding along with the denizens of both this and another world. At some point the bar began to empty, those done with the company of others leaving for wherever they wished to go. The knights at our table left along with many more of their armored ilk, and it was soon after that Arma came and collected his now stumbling squad. Deciding that I would be getting nothing else from here, I walked out with Arma and his compatriots as those remaining waved us a good sleep.
I waved back, though I had to do a double take when I spotted Wander and his table of soldiers (all female I noted) in the back waving us goodbye. They swayed as they did so, their words slurred or unfinished save Wander who seemed perfectly fine as he lazily sent us off. I tentatively waved back, not sure when he got here or why he was to begin with. Deciding that it wasn't my business, I turned and followed Arma and his out the bar and into the night.
As we began our walk, it quickly became obvious that both Guff and Kry would need help getting back, so as payment for the stories the two gave me I volunteered to help carry Kry while Arma helped Guff. Only Dirk seemed to be good enough to walk on their own, so it was lucky for them I had followed. It was going fine as we made our way to wherever they were staying, that is until Guff doubled over, a hand to his mouth as Arma rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“Damn it Guff, I told you to drink light tonight.” Guff seemed to out of it to properly respond, though he sure tried.
“So-sorry sir… too much dr-drink to ignore… I…” Tears started to well around his eyes as the soldier stumbled over to the corner of some still ruined building. A moment later and he relieved the contents of his stomach all over the corner. It was quite unsightly, though things turned strange when the little soldier began to… cry? For a moment that's what it was, though it quickly turned to a wet, heavy sobbing. Arma sighed while trying to comfort the soldier, though it was obviously doing nothing to soothe him. Then, surprisingly, Kry wiggled from my grip. I let her go, and watched as she wandered over to Guff. She put a hand on his soldier as he continued to sob, speaking to him a moment later.
“Co-come on Guff, we promised w-we… we promised…” While her words trailed off, though their effect was strangely immediate. The soldier quickly pulled himself together as Kry brought him to a stand, wiping his tears, snot, and other fluids from his face.
“Yeah, s-sorry. I didn't forget, I-I-I just…” He trailed off. The two, Kry and Guff, leaned into each other as Dirk, silent so far, moved to help the two move out.
“Can you get them back Dirk?” The addressed soldier nodded without comment as he moved the two stumbling, wandering soldiers on their way. Arma sighed as he watched them go on their way. He looked around, finding our street to be clear of others as he turned to look back towards his squad. He spoke unprompted as I gave him my attention.
“The Captain confirmed it. Where we are and what happened to us, I mean.” He went silent for a moment as he watched where his squad left, only speaking when they were out of sight. “For some of us, nothing really changes. For others, everything has.” He sighed heavily again, as if trying to blow away the weight his shoulders carried. “Guff and Kry joined our little group to support their families. They're hanging on by a thread, I can see it. Feel it.” His eyes turned to look into mine, and I could see just how the stress of the situation was getting to him. “I'm worried for them. Scared really. I have no idea what they’ll do if left alone.” I turned my head slightly at the words.
“And what about you?” He began to fidget with his fingers.
“I'm a sergeant Cynthia, my concern is the people under my care first and foremost… I can grieve later.” I nodded, though unable to understand losing someone like they have I could at least somewhat relate given my own predicament.
“Well, if it's any consolation,” I told the older soldier as he turned to fully face me, “I don't think you’ll have to worry about your squad, at least not for the worst case you imagine.”
“And why is that?” He asked in a whisper, obviously quite hopeful for an answer.
“They value family, yes? Well, they have a family here with you and yours. They won't leave it, at least not as long as you don't.” I explained, hands on my hips as I did so.
“You're sure about that?”
“Listen to their stories sometimes Arma. Do just that, and you’ll see just how much they love you and your company.” He nodded without a word, and left just the same though he gave me a wave as he turned the corner. I watched him go with a critical gaze. That one, I told myself, was someone worth keeping an eye on.
A hand found my shoulder suddenly, and with a yelp I turned to look towards the perpetrator. Wanders, his grin as large as ever, was in an apparent good mood as he looked towards where everyone had gone.
“Time to turn in.” He told me straight as he started to walk, leading me towards our destination. I followed without resistance, though I was curious about something in his other hand. It seemed he noticed my look because his grin grew even larger. Without a word he handed it to me.
“What's this?” The surprisingly long paper I held was inscribed with several numbers and names I didn't recognize.
“The bill you forgot to pay.” His reply was light, almost cheerful. My blood ran cold.
“Don't worry, I paid for you.” And like that everything was fine. I blew out the stress I just accumulated before replying to my friend.
“Oh, thank you-”
“Just remember you owe me.” Something told me this was a mistake I'd regret later in my life. Before I could speak back though, Wander suddenly led me into a fairly nice building. It was lavish, at least compared to what I'd seen so far, several stories tall and mostly empty save for a receptionist. The women simply looked up from their counter, then looked back down as we continued on without a word. Wander led me up a series of stairs and hallways until we reached a door marked 21. He pushed it open, and inside was a much larger room than what I expected to see. Holding within it a kitchen, living room, and some more hallways leading deeper into the room. More importantly though, was Hera seemingly enjoying a book on one of the couches.
I entered after putting up my cloak and boots, not that Wander did. He immediately went down one of the halls, leaving me alone with my savior.
“Did you have a good night?” She asked without looking up from her book.
“I would say so.” I responded while moving over to the living room area, laying down on the couch across from her. It was silent for a long while as I let my thoughts run rampant. But as the time passed and I glanced over to Hera, my ideas and thoughts collapsed, and I was left with a question I would be getting an answer to tonight.
“Hera…” As expected, she sighed in annoyance, but thankfully didn't stop me from continuing.
“Who is Cynthia?” She slowly put a mark into her book and closed it with a snap.
“Please, don't ask me that now-”
“Please Hera, who am I?” She didn't look at me, but I could see well enough how much this question hurt to even acknowledge. But, to my genuine surprise, she did.
“Cynthia… was my teacher.” I sat up in surprise, though I dared not utter a word in fear of scaring her off the topic.
“Back then, when I was just a fledgling acolyte. When it was just Iris, Steven, Cynthia and I against the world. You-, Cynthia I mean, were our mentor. You taught us how to live, and when you were satisfied with that you taught us how to thrive.” I brought my legs close and hugged them as she continued, her words bringing a chill that wouldn't leave. “I never knew my family Cynthia. But when she took us under her wing I believe, for a time, I understood what having a mother was like.” I could hear my heartbeat, louder and louder it grew with each passing word.
“That is who Cynthia was, and now she is gone and I will never meet her again.” And there it was, what I dreaded to hear since I made my promise. I spoke out quietly without even meaning to, though continued with it all the same.
“In the clearing, when I awoke, I told you that though lost now, maybe we could start again. Pick up where we left off, and go from there. Recreate our memories of times past.” I sighed as a piece of my soul felt like going with it, out into the current of the night. “But now I see that was an impossible task to ask of you, wasn't it? I'm surprised you didn't kill me for it.” She smiled slightly at that, though there was no joy to be seen in it.
“It's not the first time I've had to face a harsh reality… that, and the genuineness in our request took me by surprise, I must say. But yes, you with the name of Cynthia, you will never be my mentor… my mother. But,” She said before I could let the statement sink, picking up her book as she did so, “If you still wish to start again, just as you told me in that clearing, I don't mind trying. Just make sure to temper your expectations.” It was clear now as she removed her marker that she was done. I leaned back into the couch, and sank into my thoughts yet again.
Truly, I would never become the one I was… but, as she told me, that didn't mean I couldn't try. I may never replace her, but if I could at least approach her, follow in her footsteps… Maybe that could be enough.
For her, and for me.