Descending down the ramp, the group looked around the room. Illuminated by the same blue light as the cave prior, the gold shimmered and glistened. “This is truly a sight to behold.” Mylon commented, awestruck.
“No kidding. There is more than enough gold and jewels here to allow all of us to live comfortably, possibly for the rest of our lives.” Aisha pointed out.
The group made it to the bottom of the ramp, now fully inside of the tomb. As they pressed forward, they approached the pedestals. Upon closer inspection, each pedestal had a name engraved onto it. Baz stopped at the pedestal with his name and looked up at what was suspended above it. A massive Zweihänder floated before him, made of a Mythril and Adamantite alloy, the two strongest materials native to their world. This made the massive sword both nearly unbreakable and extremely sharp. It would never dull, nor would it break from anything less than Super magic, Arcane magic, or three dragons attacking all at once. Reaching out and grasping it, the blade felt as though it resonated with him. A weapon made specifically for him and no one else. Baz looked at it with a stoic expression, then mumbled somberly, “Hell of a parting gift, Guild master.”
As everyone else went to check out their own pedestals, Nalea motioned for Zycor to approach her. Walking towards the head altar, shaped more like a coffin, he got a closer look at what lay on it. There were four ingots that oscillated a rainbow pattern across their surface. It was unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of. Nalea cleared her through and extended an envelope to Zycor, “Sir Zycor, this was left by Lady Adria for you, just in case something unforeseen happened.”
Zycor took the envelope and opened it, removing a letter from Adria. He felt a sharp pain in his heart as he held it. He almost couldn’t bring himself to read it, feeling as if doing so would make what he already knew more real. It would make her death more real. Despite this, he proceeded to read the letter, perhaps hoping it would instead help bring some form of closure:
-
To my dear Zycor,
If you are reading this, then something I could not account for has come to pass and I have perished. I apologize for leaving you so soon. I wanted to spend the rest of my life caring for you, watching you grow up, starting a family, and even beyond that. But it would seem life had other plans for me. I know you are hurting, and I again apologize for being unable to hold you until you feel better. But I know you can continue to forge ahead. You have continued to fight despite being constantly outclassed and beat down. Yet, no matter how many times you are, you keep getting back up, stronger for it. I leave this tomb and its contents to you and your friends. It was originally constructed to pay homage to the bloodline of heroes who upheld peace prior to the age of war. Perhaps you may find strength within it. Although, that may just be my own selfish wish, that you find something more important than revenge to push you forward.
Well, enough of this sentimental stuff. I have left you more than enough capital to live as comfortably as you wish. Use it as you please. On top of this, I procured and commissioned weapons and artifacts to help boost your parties overall combat capabilities. For Baz, a massive, indestructible two-handed sword befitting of his orcish size and desire for fighting.
For Mylon, a Mythril sword and a shield artifact recovered from the era prior to the age of war. Everyone I brought it to told me it was not possible to replicate nor make anything remotely close. It apparently has magic engraved into it, though it appears someone with a wind affinity is needed to use it.
For Aisha, gloves made of cloth and magnecite. They will adjust to fit her hands no matter what form she takes. They are extremely sturdy and the tips of the gloves will coat her claws with magnecite, allowing her to concentrate magic onto them.
And for you, my dear child, I leave you these ingots. They are made of something foreign to this world. Every craftsman, blacksmith, merchant, lord and alchemist I brought them to could neither recognize nor work with them to make something with current methods. As a result, I have taken the liberty of naming the material ‘unobtainium.’ However, I would never leave you something that might not be useful. If you head north to the capital of Muthgrad, Vestrana, I have an informant there who goes by Viral. He has been working on finding a rumored hidden village that may have knowledge on how to forge the unobtainium. Just let them know that Adria sent you and they should be cooperative, though you should bring some gold just in case.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
I know that whatever you decide to do, you will do it well. I believe in you and pray that you will be safe, strong and healthy.
I love you, my son,
Adria Mori
-
Zycor set the letter down on the coffin, his face contorting into one of sadness and pain. “I’m sorry, mom.” He lamented under his breath.
His attitude took a sharp turn, filled with new determination. He raised his head and stuffed the pain and sorrow deep down and focused himself on a new, but similar goal. Mylon walked over, curious, and inquired, “So, what was in the letter?”
“Some information about the weaponry and equipment left to us, along with her farewell.” Zycor responded confidently.
He turned around suddenly to face Mylon and everyone else. He took a deep breath and began to explain his new goal. “Everyone, there will be a slight change of plans.” Zycor began, “I want to head to Vestrana, the capital, to meet with someone. Mom said they might be able to do something with the ingots behind me. After I get my hands on some new gauntlets, I am going to be taking a slight detour from destroying the Velathrian knights who killed my family.”
Zycor paused as he looked at his open hand, clenching it, then continuing, “It is clear Mr. X poses a greater threat to everyone I have left. I will make him pay. For mom, for going after all of you. And something tells me he had something to do with the death of my original family as well. This may turn into a suicide mission rather quickly, so if you don’t want to come-.”
Aisha cut him off and exclaimed, “Are you stupid?! Are you really going to say that after all this time!? We’re practically family, so we’re all in this together, right?”
Baz, Mylon, Aislin and Nalea all nodded. “You think I would miss an opportunity to cave some skulls in? You’re out of your mind!” Baz chortled.
Mylon put a hand on Zycors shoulder and chuckled, “Aisha said it best; did you really think any of us would leave?”
A smirk crept onto Zycor's face. Part of him knew this is what would end up happening, but actually seeing it happen made him happier than he thought it would. He felt a huge wave of motivation wash over him. “Alright then, next stop, Vestrana!” Zycor exclaimed.
Turning back to the ingots and Nalea, the latter held out a satchel towards Zycor. “This is to hold the ingots, Sir.” Nalea said in a respectful tone.
Zycor gratefully took the satchel and thanked Nalea. He proceeded to collect the ingots. While he did this, Aisha was stuffing her own satchel with gold and jewels. Zycor slung the satchel over his shoulder as he turned around. He looked at everyone and nodded for confirmation that everyone was ready to head out. After getting the green light from everyone, they began to leave the tomb. As they made their way out, a voice behind Zycor whispered, “Good luck.”
Zycor whipped his head around, but was met with nothing. Though, it appeared as though the mana had become more visible around the coffins towards the back of the tomb. Not thinking much of it, Zycor shook it off and continued on his way.
“Hey Nalea, why are you calling me ‘Sir Zycor?’” Zycor inquired.
Mylon and Aisha sighed while Nalea began to explain her reasoning again.
After they left the tomb, multiple voices began conversing from within the tomb:
“So, that was our descendant?”
“He was smaller than I expected a descendant of ours to be.”
“It is not his fault, his potential was all locked up deep inside of him.”
“And? What does that mean? Doesn’t that just mean he won’t end up as strong as any of us?”
“You are partially correct. He will not be able to achieve our level of strength, but it may turn out he could end up doing something we could not.”
“Are you referring to that spell? None of us were able to get it to work, so why would it work for him?”
“Because he is different from us. Unlike us, the boy seems to resemble more closely what the spell requires.”
“I suppose you make a good point. Still, I wonder why he made the spell have such a condition.”
“Perhaps he knew something we did not. Although, they are no longer here, so we will most likely never know.”