“Right, breakfast’s out of the way now – thank you Nathlan – so let’s have a chat. A few things need discussing, and I’m sure you’re all curious, so let’s get to it.”
Jorge spoke calmly. There was no rush, we’d get to whatever questions were burning their way through my mind eventually, and we had plenty of time.
Those thoughts should be confirmation enough that Jorge was leaning extra hard on his aura skill, as I would never be so sensible when curiosity got the best of me. The same was true of Nathlan as well in fairness.
Jorge spoke again. “So Lamb, please do us the honour of recounting your tale, O great bardic one.” His dry delivery was enough to warrant a pebble splitting in half near his foot, and he smirked at me in response.
I’d been trying to train my Faultline skill in small ways almost immediately after waking that morning, despite my weariness. I was just too excited about the actual gods-damned magic I could now wield to leave it alone for even a moment.
I’d envisioned myself splitting mountains with a stomp and collapsing castles to rubble with a flick of my hand. My recent tests however seemed to indicate my current skill was slightly more grounded in terms of its output. Collapsing the roof of the cavern yesterday had been right at the edge of my abilities and was only possible because I was so close to the existing cracks and because they were so pronounced due to the cavern’s opening only the day prior.
I was hopeful it would grow in time though, and Jorge agreed. Didn’t stop him from laughing at my currently feeble attempts though, the sod.
I did as he suggested, recapping the last week since my capture and giving more detail where required. I slowed when I came to my experiences beneath the earth, and picked over the details clearly, leaving some of the emotional turmoil out of my ‘report’ – that would be discussed later, once we had the facts and some context.
Jorge and Vera gave their experiences, and before we could start to get into the meat of the issue, Jorge made Nathlan give a brief report on his side of things as well. It felt like a waste of time, since nothing had happened to Nathlan and he’d mostly been waiting, but it was standard practice by now, and was probably a good habit to get into. You never knew when a seemingly innocuous detail for one person could trigger a realisation for another.
“So, the meat of the issue…” Jorge said, mirroring my thoughts exactly. “What happened down in that cavern?”
We exchanged glances, and I was amused to see Nathlan leaning forwards across the campfire almost enough to burn his robes.
“Needless to say, Lamb met a very powerful creature down there. Youngsters” - by which he of course meant myself and Nathlan - ”take note. The aura of a 4th tier beast is immense. Some of the more powerful are known as god-beasts – or other equally dramatic names – by many cultures purely because their very presence can shut down anyone not well into their 3rd tier. Also important to note that the difference between a 1st, 2nd or 3rd tier creature and a 4th tier is as of nothing when compared to the difference between 4th tier creatures themselves.”
At my quirked eyebrow, he expanded further. “I know of no further qualitative leap above the 4th tier. It seems that is the end of traditional advancement within the system’s purview. That doesn’t mean they are all equal though – a 4th tier beast can be a hard fight for a prepared group of mercenaries, or an empire-killing threat, or anything in-between.”
Vera sighed, “He’s saying they vary in strength massively, just can’t seem to get the words out properly.” She gave him a pointed look as she spoke, and he had to grace to look chagrined.
“Aye, that’s about the gist of it I reckon. Anyway! Point is, you met a powerful 4th tier beast and lived to tell the tale. Congrats!” He gave a somewhat sarcastic round of applause, and I split another pebble near him. His grin was at least more genuine at that.
“But it wasn’t a normal 4th tier beast, was it? I thought we had established that Alvorak the Unbroken, She who Thirsts for Knowledge, was just an illusion?” Nathlan asked, impatient and perplexed at the same time.
“Alvorak the Broken, She of the Cursed Tongue, Whispers in the Dark” I corrected.
“Does it matter?” Nathlan responded.
I looked across at him then, holding his gaze through the fire. I hadn’t realised how important it was until I had started speaking, but now that I did, I needed him to understand too. “Yes, it does.”
He was silent for a moment, searching my face for something. Satisfied he’d found it, he nodded slightly and turned back to Jorge, who had been watching the interaction carefully.
“Oh no she’s very real, think I recall a few stories about her actually – was known as some sort of war-god for a while, since she used to descend upon any major battlefield within her territory and kill any who didn’t run. No idea if that’s just embellishment from decades later but there were enough similar stories from different concurrent civilisations that it might have some merit. Anyway, back on track.”
“You’re getting awfully distracted this morning, Jorge.” Vera commented, a query in her voice.
“Yeah, are you alright mate? Feels a little like you might be putting off the next bit.” I echoed.
He sighed again, this one sounding partly exasperated. “No, its fine. Look, I’m a bit…frazzled from that. Point is, she is – or was at least – real, but what we saw was just an illusion, or projection of some kind. The one doing the actual projecting, the creature we actually met...I’m not sure.”
“Oh, don’t give me that Jorge. I was there, and I heard her words as surely as you did” I protested, and for the first time I saw some uncertainty in his posture. His shoulders shrugged helplessly.
“No, it’s not what you think. Let’s just… Look, I’m not clear on exactly what happened, but let me try and explain.” Jorge struggled over his words, and Nathlan was practically in the fire at this point. I doubt he’d ever seen the older man so unsure – I certainly hadn’t – and the mystery must be killing him.
“I think the creature that summoned the illusion, the one that killed Francis as if it were nothing and could create a facsimile of a 4th tier creature’s aura so expertly that Vera could not see through it…I think it was a child of the World-Tree.” He sighed again as he finished, though this was more relief than anything else, as if he was glad to have spoken aloud the thought that had been bothering him.
Nathlan actually gasped, and Vera frowned. I sat there quietly, waiting for somebody who understood the gravity of the statement to say something. When nobody did, I butted in anyway.
“So...that means what exactly?”
“It means, Lamb, that I am now reconsidering many of my fundamental beliefs about the world.” He looked at me keenly then, and I felt his assessing gaze once more. I’d seen that expression when we first met, and a few times since in the early days of training. He’d come to some conclusion in those early days, and I’d never felt that consideration again since…until now anyway.
Vera spoke up then, saving me from that inscrutable gaze once more. “I notice you didn’t include yourself in being misled by the illusory aura. You recognised it?”
He nodded, and she followed up, “Akshaltr?”
He nodded again. She seemed satisfied by that, and sat back on her haunches one more, poking at the fire absently, and causing a few sparks to leap at Nathlan.
He shuffled back a pace and then leaned right back as he started talking, seemingly oblivious to the action. Vera smiled at that.
“So you recognised either the illusory aura, or the real one beneath. Considering you said all you knew of She of the Cursed Tongue was a few stories you’d heard, I assume that means you have met a Child of the World-Tree before? Or at least felt its power? But if that’s true, then why would its presence here be such a surprise?” Nathlan asked of Jorge.
“Yes and No.” The older man responded.
“I’m going to need you to expand on that.” Nathlan said, deadpan.
“Right, so-” Jorge started, but was interrupted by Vera.
“He felt the presence of a Child of the World-Tree at a place called Akshaltr many years ago. This creature’s power was similar enough that he recognised it.” She looked at him pointedly again.
“I…yeah that’s about right” Jorge huffed, but she continued before he could say more.
“It’s thrown him off though, because it spoke to him directly. His world-view is in shambles because he thought of the World-tree and its children as forces of nature rather than sapient creatures with shifting desires and plans. So now he doesn’t know what’s true and what’s false, and is very confused but trying his best to hide that fact...That about right, Jorge?”
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I laughed at the resignation on his face, and Vera’s smug grin that she was trying to hold back.
“Ah, ya fuckin’ witch.” He replied, somehow managing to inject fondness into the insult. The terrifying woman simply raised an eyebrow at him and let her grin finally appear in earnest.
Nathlan looked shocked she’d allowed the insult but when questioned, Vera explained. “One of my less fond monikers in the early days when we first met was ‘the burning bitch’…for reasons I won’t bother explaining – you’ve seen my aura skill, and it was much less controlled back then. Jorge decided to start calling me things that rhymed with it for a while, and it turned into a bit of a game.”
“’The slurrin’ snitch’ was my favourite I think – she got so drunk once that she fessed up to this man and didn’t realise he was a spy for….” He trailed off at the now dangerous glare he was receiving from Vera, the campfire jumping an extra foot higher all of a sudden.
He coughed awkwardly before continuing, “Vera the burnin’ bitch. Now that’s a callback. You’re getting old, you know that right?” He asked with a cheeky wink, and it was nice to see the old man back to himself for a moment.
The banter also gave me enough time to process a few thoughts. Jorge had taken me on as a ward essentially, for no particular reason, then travelled half-way across an entire country to rescue me, and paid the costs of my training and board for a few months now, with no immediate goal in sight.
He had a system title that sounded like it was related to training or guiding people, was very close to a former revolutionary and was currently training another disaffected noble of some sort.
Nothing certain in that, but then when added to the hints dropped by the Giant and the creature we’d just met, alongside his admission that his entire ideology seemed to base itself at least partly on the World-Tree…I felt like my burgeoning suspicion of him had just been confirmed.
“So…cards on the table, I’m assuming this has something to do with you being – or at least related to – the Al-Sazine.” I dopped my suspicion into the conversation like a lead weight into a pond. Ripples spread and silence greeted the announcement.
Vera’s and Nathlan’s faces whirled towards me, showing suspicion and surprise respectively. Jorge though, he looked relieved. Not an emotion I was expecting to see honestly, and he caught my raised eyebrow.
“Aye, had my suspicions you might have caught wind of that but you kept it close to your chest. Was it the Giant that clued you in?” He asked quietly.
Nathlan was still shocked, and he jerked at the words. Whether at the almost-confirmation that Jorge’s statement provided, or at the allusion to the Giant and the conversation I had had with him the following day, I wasn’t sure.
“Yeah that was part of it. Honestly it’s pretty obvious with hindsight given the hints my title gave me but everything is still so new that it’s hard to tell what is unusual behaviour sometimes.”
“Fair enough, lad, makes sense I suppose. It’s a relief in some ways honestly – knew you were keeping something from us, and it’s nice to know it’s just this. I’m sorry lamb.”
“Sorry? What for? You’re allowed to have secrets…pretty fucked for me to just blurt it out now that I think about it. I should probably apologise to you.” I said, and he laughed in response.
“No, its fine lad. I’m sorry for making you carry that around. For making you think you couldn’t trust me. It’s not easy keeping secrets, and I can’t imagine it would have felt good to worry about the hidden motives of the only people you know in all the world. So, I’m sorry.” He paused for a breath, cocking his head to the side for consideration.
The breather gave time for his words to hit me, and I was surprised by my reaction. It was visceral, like someone had punched me right in the chest. I hadn’t realised how much it was eating away at me. I’d been trying to think of it as a fun mystery to solve, but he was right – there was a very real part of me that was suspicious of him still because of that.
“I hadn’t intended to discuss this right now – but I can see it’s important. So, to get it out of the way: Yes I am a member of the Al-Sazine. I know you have questions, both of you - ” He gave a very pointed look at Nathlan who was literally vibrating, fingers twitching with fervour as he tried to contain his curiosity, no doubt cataloguing and re-prioritising his endless list of questions.
“- and I will answer them, but first we have to deal with what has just happened. I give you my solemn word that I will answer any questions you have later. Alright?” It was a question, and he held our gazes for long enough to confirm we understood and agreed, but such was his presence that neither of us thought to disagree with the suggestion.
Vera shrugged then, speaking; “Well thank you for the massive distraction Lamb, but we were talking about the Child of the World-Tree and what that means.”
Jorge picked up the thread with admirable enthusiasm, given what I’d just revealed and his apparent struggle to grapple with his world-view falling down around him. “Right, thanks again Vera – what would I do without you, aye?”
“So, the Children of the World-Tree are essentially giant primordial trees. We call them Subakir. No idea how many of them there are, but I would assume all are at the very least powerful 4th tiers, with perhaps a few having even reached apotheosis. It’s irrelevant for us right now anyway. I’m also not sure why this one would have been trying to hide its identity.”
Nathlan spoke up. “Obviously it wasn’t trying particularly hard. Surely someone as weak as Lamb isn’t able to pierce an illusion created by a creature of that power?”
“Hey!” I protested, at the same time as Vera and Jorge both said “Agreed.” I looked affronted, but a few raised eyebrows cut my ego back down. Of course, it was a sensible point and I was being silly.
“I see two possibilities; one is that it wasn’t particularly adept with illusions, and once it felt me ‘see through’ its illusory aura, it decided to let it lapse for Lamb and Vera as well.”
Nathlan leaned forward to interject, and Jorge paused to allow it. “So how strong are you exactly, Jorge? Is it much more plausible that you would see through this illusion than Lamb? Than Francis, or even Vera? What sets you so far apart?” The scholar asked.
It was a good question, and I replayed the brief words exchanged between me and the child of the World-Tree. “She called you ‘ancient one’.” I remembered, and Nathlan grinned in victory at hearing it. It seemed he was taking that as proof that the lead he was following would go somewhere.
“I am venerable and wise, ‘tis true” Jorge said, with that stupid noble countenance he often put on. It was so exaggerated we couldn’t take it seriously, and Vera swatted him. I cracked a pebble beneath his foot again as well, and our two-pronged assault broke through his façade, causing a smile.
“It’s not so much quantitative as qualitative. I am no more powerful than Vera – she’d kick my arse if we ever truly fought. But I have ways of seeing through untruths, peering behind the curtain as it were. There’s a reason I’ve been able to help with your class specifically, beyond the obvious pointers I can give as an experienced fighter and teacher. Still, I agree with you in a sense Nathlan. I think it’s unlikely that I managed to pierce that veil. Which leaves option two; The child was testing Lamb, seeing if he could see through a shoddily constructed illusion.”
“But how could I hope to when Vera and Francis both failed?” I interrupted.
“Well, firstly we should again acknowledge that people all have different skills. Vera has a tendency to respond in a certain way when faced with greater power, and let’s just say higher order thinking takes a back seat…” There was a thwacking sound and a laugh as Jorge raised his hands in supplication.
“I joke, I joke! In all seriousness, you had clues that neither Vera nor Francis did. The most important of which being the way he was killed. You also had fewer distractions towards the end.”
I remained unconvinced. I wasn’t known for my cunning after all. While Nathlan and Vera asked their questions, I mulled it over.
“There is a third option.” I interjected.
A nod from the others prompted me to continue. “She was teasing me. Didn’t feel like some master plan. The impression I got from her was that she’d tried to put up an illusion and didn’t really care whether I saw through it. Once I had, she decided to reward me…on a whim more than anything. I think reading some complex motive into her actions might be…unwarranted? Seemed like someone just fucking around if I’m honest.”
Jorge frowned at that, and Nathlan asked a question in response after a few moments of thought. “She? I notice you are humanising this creature far more than Jorge.”
“Well, don’t laugh but…her voice sounded like a woman’s. That’s it. She came across as playful more than anything.”
“Well I’m convinced” Vera deadpanned. I threw a pebble at her, but her grin didn’t falter as it bounced off her leg.
“I know it sounds strange to you, and probably especially to Jorge, but why should there be a good reason? We give them a special name and overlay our own desires onto these godlike entities, but honestly; why shouldn’t they just be messing about. I’m not thrilled by the conclusion either, since I’m the one that would have lived and died based on her – its – whims, but… I don’t know, I just think we need to keep an open mind on this one” I said.
Jorge spoke up, returning order to the proceedings. “Putting that aside, it’s a plausible theory, and at this point the why’s don’t really matter. What we know is that a Subakir intervened in our mortal affairs directly and shared some words of wisdom. Let’s discuss that.”
It went on lack that for a few more bells, all of us sharing our thoughts on what had transpired, proposing theories and deconstructing words shared. I struggled a little when it came to the new gap in my memory, but all agreed the likeliest theory was that I had remembered something of my past life.
Jorge had explained, in his usual manner with a bunch of questions and ‘aye lad’s speckled throughout, that the gods were outside the system’s purview, that their magic was unbound by its laws. Therefore, the Child of the World-Tree’s simple presence, or perhaps by intentional affect, had weakened the influence of the system in the surrounding area, which had allowed me to relive a poignant memory.
There were a few outstanding questions from that explanation, like why I couldn’t remember what I’d actually remembered, whether Subakir actually counted as gods or were something altogether different, how the system suppression worked in actuality etc…but broadly we agreed that it made sense.
It also had some pretty big implications; namely that the amnesiac affects experienced by god-touched seemed to be a result of the system rather than the gods themselves. If true, that would call into question a lot of the traditional wisdom surrounding god-touched individuals.
Regardless, that was just one of the revelations of the night. The other big one was that Nathlan was never taught one of the cardinal survival tips – namely; stop, drop and roll.
He had gotten too engrossed in the conversation and one of the sleeves of his robe actually caught fire. He had only noticed once it was well and truly aflame, and then spent precious moments trying to reconfigure his personal shielding ward to stamp out the flames.
It apparently should have been easy with his previous class – or so he insisted after the fact – but his new combat class was much less concerned with warding, and his admittedly considerable proficiency with free-style magic was not enough to save him.
Vera had taken charge while he gestured wildly, weaving strings of magic together in increasingly frantic movements, and simply tackled him to the floor. A few rolls and the flames were thoroughly smothered.
I considered it a poignant lesson in the advantages of physicality over magical might, but that was probably just my bias talking. I want to jump off of mountains, damn it!
I wasn’t willing to bank on decades of study of complex magical theory to get me there, but with the system’s help it may be possible. Actually using magic to impact the world in front of me with my new Faultline skill might go some ways to changing my mind though. So many options.