The Catacombs of Xandria spit them out in a cold and faraway place. In one moment they were counting the number of right-turns in a hallway like any other. In the next, they were walking out of a hidden door in the wall, wind whipping past them into a burial chamber befitting only the richest of the dead.
I was hoping to fight another boss in that last bit. But I guess if this is a normal route for Cesare, then he and his friends already took care of it. I’m not the only one putting my mark on the world.
Elia breathed in the crisp mountain air. They were far up, far enough that most trees had already vacated the area in search for better real estate. The only plant she saw was a scraggly looking fern clinging for its life to a small outcropping.
The mountain felt ever closer. It looked so tall from down here that when she craned her neck all the way back, the summit was still not in sight, hidden behind clouds. It felt as if at any moment, it could fall over and topple right on to her.
I’ve never dueled a mountain before. I wonder how that would work?
Elia wasn’t the only one staring up at the wispy cliffs. The giant was lost in thought. Elia elbowed him in the hip.
“Yo, mister head-in-the-clouds. What’cha thinking all the way up there?”
He turned to examine her, then looked right back up again. “Feeling… nostalgic.”
“You ever been here?”
“Yes. Like every giant.”
“Huh. Like, a family-outing kind of thing?”
He paused. “Yes.”
And that was where he decided to end that particular conversation. Elia let him, as they were coming upon their goal.
Like that time she had made it out of the maze, like that time she had first set foot in Loften proper, there was a temple, domed and large, that stood at the end of a winding pass. It hugged their edge of the ravine, and a long, thin bridge made of stone connected it with the opposite end. But that was where the familiar ended.
That bridge is big, Elia thought as they got closer.
And closer.
The bridge still grew larger, and larger, until she was certain that if it had existed on earth prior to the industrial age, it would have been declared the eighth world wonder.
As they passed it, she peeked over the edge where the stone piers stretched down thousands of feet until they looked thinner than straws.
Engraving those couldn’t have been practical. Stacking them shouldn’t have been physically possible.
“Woah.” Karla trotted up next to her, holding her hand so she wouldn’t go on her own mini adventures anymore. “Pretty neat, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, if not for the fact that you’d get flambéed by a dragon the moment you try to pass.”
“A what?” Karla squinted her very best squint. “I don’t see one. Is this another one of your prophecies?”
“Call it a prediction.”
“Prediction? Based on what?” Karla gasped. “We didn’t die to it already. Did we?”
Elia chuckled. “I’ll tell you if we ever do.”
When they reached the foot of the temple and entered it, Elia had to say, she was impressed. Neither in the right wing nor in the left corridor which sagged and ended over a deep fall did she find a single sign of ostentatious worship. The plaster on the ceiling was torn off, tiles in the floor were missing. This place was a temple, but it was desolate and humbled by time.
I like this place already.
In a nook, her favorite merchant was spreading out his goods. She waved at him. Mahdi pretended like he didn’t know her. He had two eyepatches today.
“I’m just going to go have a look over there and – Geh!” Karla caught her by the scruff.
“Stay.” Her look said she would brook no argument.
“I’ll go and find the rest, tell them you’re here,” Cesare said, removing a wiggling boney hand from his poofy wig.
With nothing better to do, Elia plopped herself on the ground. It wasn’t right that they treated her like a… a distractible child. She was just a bit more scatter-brained than usual, for no reason at all.
The temple halls were empty. And yet, it was as if she could feel the sides of the valley pressing in on her. Maybe a dragon was unlikely, but a Roc? Yes, this place looked like rocs lived here.
“Hey Karla, doesn’t this feel like that time the 41st Legion failed to assassinate us?” she asked as she idly doodled in the dust.
Karla looked around. “You’re right. This place is unnaturally quiet and far away from everywhere else. It would be the perfect place to launch an ambush.”
Elia looked up to see Sam, wearing her old-ass armor, looking from door to door. She was nervous and on the lookout. Like that one time in the maze when… “Hey, Mai– Sam. You can calm down, nothing will get to us here.”
“But you mentioned assassins,” she said, looking even more worried. “But… You’re not nervous. This happens regularly, I presume?”
“Hm? Yeah, they come after me and Karla every now and then. I’ve got a bounty. See, says right next to my snazzy title.”
She flicked her bounty up on her handy haze. Sam’s eyes twitched as she read it. To her credit, when she sat down and folded her hands over her lap, she did so smoothly and with only a hint of trepidation.
“You… you are not unwanted,” she said.
Elia blinked. Normally, people were all hung up about the ludicrous bounty, not the mocking title.
“Not anymore.” Elia raised the arm that Karla was practically crushing in her grip.
“No, I… I also don’t think you are unwanted. I am sorry I made you think so. Can we make amends?”
Elia blinked again. “Sure.”
What followed was the second most crushing hug she had ever endured. “Thank you. I heard what you did for Rye. No matter what anyone says, you are a good person.”
“Thanks?” Elia said. “You too?”
Rye huffed, a wan smile of irritation playing across her lips. Oh, was that a sign of jealousy? Elia hugged Sam tighter and stretched out her tongue. Rye’s eyes goggled. Then, she stretched out hers as well. The vicious duel intensified until they were one step below blowing a volley of raspberries.
“Ahem.” They both turned to Cesare, who was some mixture of cross and embarrassed. “Here they are, mistress Frey. The two shardbearers.”
Behind him a collection of colorful individuals filed in, ranging from a knight with a sword that looked like the lower jaw of a dragon to a nervous looking crossbowman who was wearing an opaque fish bowl as a helmet, fish included. The giant, which Elia had totally not mistaken for a statue standing in the shadow, stepped forward and offered Karla a hand.
“Greetings, miss Justice. I hope the ascent was not too unpleasant, for one such as thee?”
Karla blinked. “It was quite alright, mister...”
“Misses Frey,” the giantess rumbled, tossing a braid over her shoulder. “An honest mistake, for those not of Morgenthal.”
Could’ve fooled me between the braids and the facial hair. Then again, giant. Not a lot of space for sexual dimorphism between all those abs I guess.
The giantess smiled, then turned to Rye, walking right past Elia. “And mistress Dreaming. I am an enthusiastic supporter of your work. I must ask, how did you manage to remove all nightmares from the world?
Rye’s face was stony. “Sold them.”
The giantess nodded genially, as if that made perfect sense to her. Her gaze swept over the rest of them, stopping briefly to glare at Brod, before she sat down. Her followers followed suit.
She’s as tall sitting down as I am standing, Elia thought. I still think we could take them.
“You are more people than I expected.”
“You are less,” Elia shot back.
“We are a clandestine group. Secrecy is our mode of survival.”
“And mine’s being too big to fuck with."
The giantess looked down at her, as if surprised to see anybody sitting there. “Ah. Right, there was mention of some… additional factors. What pray tell is your name, little one?”
“Elia.”
No recognition played across her face, not a smidge. Perhaps she was a few years out of date with Loften news, or perhaps she just didn’t care about her street-cred. “Do you speak for this group?”
In the background, Cesare was frantically making an X with his arms.
Elia grinned. “Sure. Why the hell not?”
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There was more than one slap to a forehead. Rye must have been internally screaming, but that didn’t mean Elia had to listen to her, nor anyone else. She owed her a house and today Elia was feeling vindictive.
She met the giantess’ eyes and for a moment regretted being born so full of cheek. It was like looking into the face of a person and finding nothing there but the eyes of an animal, wild, craving violence.
“The dog that barks loudest knows its place, and thus it only barks.” The giantess sighed. “I come not to meet you as an adversary, but as a friend. There is much to say and even more to do. Mount Gatheon, the gods above, and the prophecy of the undead–”
“Thirty words.” Elia’s grin widened as the giantess’ brow twitched. “No drama, no bullshit. If you can’t say it in less, then you don’t know what is and isn’t important, or what you are even talking about.”
She sighed again, louder this time to go over the ambience of murmured and hissed words. Their side was annoyed. Rye was hissing at her, sneaking her the right words to mend this situation. Brod was holding back laughter. All was right in the world.
“Avon and Quintus have almost reached the summit,” Frey said, silencing everyone. “They have relentlessly beaten the mountain and been beaten back these past two years. We must not let them be the first.”
Elia blinked.
A perfect thirty. Not bad.
“Who?” she asked, in case those were common names.
“The leaders of the legion and the tar men.”
The murmurs returned, this time twice as loud.
“Alright,” Elia bellowed. “Say I’m intrigued. Why should we not let them reach the top?”
“Because one is of fire, and the other of living tar. Their nature is inimical to life, to the world, to everything. They will reach the grail, and they will destroy it, or twist it. We cannot allow this. From the grail springs all things, life and death, wet and dry, light and dark.”
“Which grail?” Hannah whispered.
“The grail of ages,” Sam whispered back. “This was exactly what we were trying to prevent two hundred years ago.”
“And did you succeed?” Erik chimed in.
“I don’t know. If we did, then there was plenty of time for anyone else to ascend after we lost the war. If we didn’t, then many people wouldn’t even remember what was and wasn’t normal. It would be as if the sky had always been purple, or as if there had only ever been one time of the year.”
“Time,” Elia murmured. “They spent two years trying and failing, and you think we can somehow get there before them while starting from the bottom? Count me unconvinced.”
“The mountain is not meant to be ascended in large groups. It is irked by the presence of fraternities, and rails against the ingress of armies. Quintus and Avon both brought theirs to counter each other. Their forces in Loften are at peace, slowly dividing the city, consuming it from within. That means nothing if either of them loses the race up here, but make no mistake: We can catch up. On the mountain, anything is possible.”
That sounded like an absolute mosh pit of terrible things that were currently on the mountain. And the way this conversation was going, Frey was going to demand that they, or a part of them, ascend to the top, no doubt with her in the lead. There, there be dragons, and grizzlier things.
I don’t like this. This feels too much like the deathstar trench run, except without the force, or lasers, or X-wings.
“And where do we fit in?” she asked.
“The mountain is more lenient with bearers of greater shards. It will challenge you, but the challenges will be possible to overcome. We have determined that with four bearers, and no more than four other undead, we may reach the top before any of the others.”
“Possible. May. I am not hearing a lot of certainty. Say, of all the people that have tried to reach the top, how many have?”
“None in our time,” Sam muttered. “And before that, every success birthed a legend, and an immortal servant or minor god.”
“You won’t have to come, girl-Elia. Dreaming and Justice may make their own choice to ascend, but you do not, if you find the mountain is, ah, ‘too big to fuck with’.”
“Yeah. Great.” Elia stood and turned away. “Have fun with your suicidal save-the-world bullshit. But I am going back now.”
“Back where?” came her taunting voice. “Your home is gone, so I’ve heard. The pact, blessed cowards that they are, will cease to exist too if we fail.”
“I am leaving, now. Come on Karla.” She tugged at the princess.
“Actually, I would like to listen for a while longer.”
Elia looked at her, stunned.
“Fine. Be like that.” She turned to the giantess and didn’t show how much she felt betrayed. “Once you’re done with your little hero-indoctrination-camp, we’re going back down this mountain.”
Elia left.
There wasn’t much of a place to go where the discussion behind her wouldn’t echo to. She settled for a balcony missing a protective balustrade that oversaw the valley in between mountain roots. The stone bricks were leaning precipitously towards the edge, and no matter how much she tried, she could not bring herself to look down over it.
Heavy footfalls came to a stop next to her. She didn’t need to look up to know it was Brod, nor that he was smiling.
“You think it’s funny too, how all that bitch has to say is ‘let’s save the world’ and suddenly everyone starts thinking about jumping into the fire?”
“Is not woman, is man,” he waved her surprised look away.
“Could be a woman, y’know. And if not, how can you tell?”
He shook his head, taking in the breeze while he collected all of his many words. “Is a giant thing. In Morgenthal, there lives us giants. Giants are bred for killing and breaking. That is why, for every woman born, there are three men. The men are filled with a red fire, it makes anger and strength. The women are filled with a blue fire, and it is cold and patient.”
“Let me guess, the men use this excuse to rule over the rest? Or is it the women?”
He made a so-so gesture. “When a man goes angry, he is strong like a boar, but is blind like one too. When a woman is angry, she plan a war. Plan is better normally, for it is wisdom, but men can become very big boar, and very, very angry.”
“Huh.” Elia paused. “So, he wasn’t crossdressing for fun.”
Brod nodded. “He is trying to say: ‘Listen to me, I am not angry, I am wise’. But you do not know; you are very angry woman and you ignore him. It was funny to watch.”
Elia scoffed and shook her head. Giants were weird. “Thanks for laughing at my expense, I guess.”
“Maybe he is wise.” The giant shrugged. “Maybe he only focus on looking.”
“Looking what?”
“Wise.”
“Ah.”
They watched the mountainside a while longer, watched clouds cling to its peak, watched trees far down like matchsticks and the things that crawled in between.
“I think I just saw a snake as wide as a double lane road.” Elia groaned and hung her head. “The worst thing about this all is that I know that I’m strong, and I know that in spite of that, something is going to go wrong if we go up there. And we will go up there, mark my words. Either Karla is going to get it in her head that she really can save the world, or Rye will cave in to her curiosity and go with Sam.”
“You won’t leave them alone.”
“Never. But still, I don’t like this place. Reminds me too much of the maze. And really, the two biggest dipshits this side of the north-duck-cloud couldn’t reach the top within two years? No thank you, I get cranky if an adventure lasts past lunch.” Elia sighed. “I know I should do something with all the power I have. I was just hoping to have a little bit more time before taking such a big bite. I can be scared too, you know.”
“Yes,” Brod said. “You bark a lot.”
“Screw you.”
They both laughed. He handed her a stick of fish.
Elia took a bite and groaned at the taste. “Holy shit, is this smoked? Doesn’t that, like, take an age and a half to do right?”
“Maybe,” he said, grinning in between bites. “I am very fast smoker.”
“I bet you have a boon.”
“Nuh. All skill.”
Eventually the discussions inside died down. People were filing out here and there, mostly alone, though some in pairs. Karla, Rye, and the rest eventually found them, and by the look of it, they did not approve of Elia’s impromptu barbeque.
“What is this?” Rye asked, gesturing towards the small fire they had set up.
“Lunch,” Elia said, chewing happily on the remnants of her fifth fish-on-a-stick. “Want some dried fruits? I never leave home without them.”
Karla breathed in, then out, shakily.
Oh boy, that was the wrong thing to say.
Rye looked guilty. “Elia, we talked with Frey and her rebels some more. Apparently, you can leave a lot of detail out of you’re limited to thirty words.”
“Hey, I let them talk after. Was just checking if they knew what they were proselytizing about.”
“You were a bit rude,” Karla said. “And only moderately embarrassing.”
“Eh, I can live with that.”
Rye sighed.
Here it comes.
“Elia, Sam and I have decided to ascend the mountain.”
She nodded. “And what about you, Karla?”
“I… wanted to talk with you first.” She was hopping from one foot to the other. She only did that when she was going to ask something impossible. “Can you promise to keep an eye on our students? I know, it was my idea to take them in and now I’m being unreasonable in dumping them on you. But I need to know if I really can be a real hero.”
And something else. Something else you’re not telling me.
This was Karla being selfish, but this was also Karla handing her a bone. Elia wouldn’t need to ascend the mountain. And if she stayed together with the others, she would be reasonably safe. In the off case that things did go wrong, it was always an option to ascend herself. She would just do it… later.
“I can do that, maybe even rebuild our home while you’re out.” She shrugged, surprised at how easily the decision had come to her. “Elia, the stay-at-home mom. Maybe it’ll sound better if I say it a few more times. Just don’t dump me for a prettier god or something, ‘kay?”
“’kay,” Karla smiled and was poised to give her a big hug.
Rye stopped her. There was apparently even more to say.
“I’ll protect her, whatever it takes,” she said. “You have my word.”
“I know you would. And Sam will protect you, so I’m not worried about any of you.” Elia smiled and found it a bit hard to hold back tears. “I’m sorry I can’t be more selfless and come with you all.”
They don’t need me after all. I’m not the center of the world.
Rye only half-returned her smile. “Well, our reasoning isn’t entirely selfless either.”
Elia blinked. “Rye. You’re going out to save the world.”
“Yeah, well… It turns out that this,” she pulled down her shirt where white scales were starting to grow down her clavicle, “is terminal.”
“Oh,” Elia said shakily. “I see. We knew it wasn’t going away, but it wasn’t growing so – right. You channeled magic through it. Rye, I am so, so, sorry–”
Rye shushed her up. “Nope, none of that. I don’t blame anyone but Rhuna and fate.”
“Screw fate,” Elia said. “How… how long do you have?”
“One year if I don’t use magic.” That was less than Elia had had back on earth. And Rye would never stop to use her magic. Before Sam arrived, it seemed like the only thing that kept her in this place. “Frey says that we might easily find a cure on the way. The mountain is full of unexpected treasures. And if all else fails, well, we can still petition the god of kindness and also healing, Rhû, once we reach the top.”
“Yeah,” Elia said, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah. Sounds good. You go do that. I’ll hold the fort down here. And Sam?”
“Yes?”
Elia got up and offered her a hand.
“I want you to have this. After listening to your story, it just didn’t feel right to keep this to myself.”
She drew on the power deep within herself and imagined it flowing down her arm until it coalesced in her hand.
You have offered: [Left gauntlet of the Viper]
It was a little trick she had learned from the Clearwater attendant. All you needed for trading boons like this was a small statuette or idol of a god, through which the trades would commence for a single shard of the boon’s rarity, or two of one level lower. Of course, Elia didn’t trust any of the gods enough to hold their idols, but of those she hated the least was Valti, Lady of the Hunt.
Her boons were all practical. And she had been on her side during the battle against Rhuna.
Sam looked at her own hazy message.
“I–”
“Accept it already.” Elia forced a grin out of herself. “It’s my weakest boon, I was planning on swapping it out anyways.”
Whether due to her arguments or for sentimental reasons, Sam’s hand found hers.
A boon has been offered. A sacrifice has been made.
Sam marveled as the conjured gauntlet appeared on her arm. Then, before she forgot herself, she inclined her head graciously.
“Thank you. I won’t forget this.”
“If you really want to thank me, take me out to dinner.” Elia paused. “Us, I mean. We can make it a double date.”
“Double… date?” Sam asked. Elia whispered the details into her ears and her eyes widened. “Yes. Yes, I think we can do that. Once we’re done with the mountain business.”