Hadespera

The 21st of Elaphebolion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

Arche was on his way back to the village when he spotted a leg dangling from a tree next to the river. At first, he had mistaken it for a branch and wouldn’t have paid it any mind, but it had moved and caught the light of the moons.

Arche cracked a smile and wandered over, trying to be as quiet as he could. He stopped at the base of the tree and leaned against the trunk in a nonchalant manner.

“I didn’t realize ‘wood elf’ was so literal. You all right up there?”

“I didn’t realize you were trying to sneak. It sounded like another beastmar attack. I’m surprised the village hasn’t sounded the alarm,” Lyssa retorted.

Arche chuckled.

“That would explain why my Stealth level is so low. Seriously, though, are you all right?”

He grabbed a low limb of the tree and scrabbled up the trunk into some of the taller branches.

You have learned a Skill.

Climbing — Level 1

At long last you have the ability to see past the limitations of your own meager stature.

Each level in this skill improves your ability to scale surfaces.

Every 5 levels in this skill improves your Strength and Dexterity by 1.

+1% Speed of Climbing (+1%)

-1% Stamina Drain while Climbing (-1%)

Arche’s eyes narrowed. He’d take all the skills he could get, but the snark was something he could do without,.

“I’m okay,” Lyssa said, bringing his attention back to the present as he settled in against a tree limb near her. “I suppose I’m just missing Dawnwood. These people are so different from what I’m used to.”

“I can imagine. I haven’t even really met them yet; mostly just been talking to Vik and his friends. How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Ah.” Arche nodded sagely. “Repression. Smart. Keep the feelings inside in the hope that one day you’ll die and won’t have to deal with them.”

Lyssa snorted.

“Of course,” Arche continued, swinging his feet back and forth. “That might not be the best plan for an elf, so if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

He didn’t really expect her to say anything but he was content to simply share the view of the valley in moonslight with her. A bird swooped and skimmed the surface of the river. Its claws broke the surface, then reappeared a moment later clutching a wriggling fish. It struggled desperately, red blood dripping into the grass from the piercing wounds in its side. The bird flapped quickly back toward the forest, to the safety of a nest, but it was too slow. Another bird intercepted it, ramming into it with such force that the fishing bird was stunned and plummeted toward the ground. The other bird caught it and carried it away, the fish still trapped in the first bird’s claws.

After a few minutes of quiet, Lyssa broke the silence.

“I don’t want to accept what happened. I can’t.”

Arche didn’t have the first idea what to say to that, so he kept quiet. Thankfully, Lyssa wasn’t done.

“I know they didn’t care for me, especially after what happened, but not one of them thought about what I went through. My brother is dead and it’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is, Arche. I was the one who pushed forward, out of the safety of our territory. He wanted to turn back, but he wouldn’t leave me. He was there because of me, taking a stupid risk because of me. I killed him; even if it hadn’t been my arrow that had ended his life, I killed him. In every way that matters, I killed him.”

She sniffled and wiped her face. Arche opened his mouth to argue, but he realized there was no point. Nothing he could say would change her mind. No words would bring her brother back.

“All right.”

She looked over at him, her eyes reflecting the light of the moons; one blue, one green.

“All right,” he repeated. “So what are you going to do? You’ve got three options from where I’m sitting. Three outcomes. You can focus on the past until you can see nothing else, drowning in your own misery, or you can find a way to press forward and move on to the next point in your life. That’s not to say you forget what happened, but you find a way to make your peace with it.”

“What’s the third option?”

“Death and taxes.”

She tilted her head to the side. “What?”

“The only certain things in life. Personally, I recommend the second option, but the decision is ultimately yours.”

She didn’t answer. Arche looked at the light of the moons reflecting in the water of the river. Without the forest to block the moonslight, he could still make out a decent amount of the area around him, despite not having racial night-sight like Lyssa.

“Why do you want to save this village?”

Arche blew out his cheeks and scratched his head. He hadn’t expected the conversation to go there, but it was a fair question. He’d been pushing to get rid of Callias. It seemed like the obvious thing to do but saying that wasn’t good enough.

“Callias will get these people killed. I can’t stand by and let that happen.”

“And if you succeed, what happens to them?”

“We’ll let them choose their own leader. Democracy and all that.”

Lyssa’s head tilted to the other side.

“I like the sound of that. Sometimes, you give good advice, Greenstick. I do need to find a way forward. Maybe this village can be my way out.”

Arche grinned. “Let’s find out, together.”

Leadership has increased to Level 4.

+1% Persuasion Chance (+4%)

+1% Reputation Gains (+4%)

-0.5% Reputation Losses (-2%)

“By the way, before I forget, Vik volunteered his group to help us.”

“What? When did this happen?”

Arche peered out at the moons from beneath the tree’s foliage. “Two hours ago? Maybe three? Hard to tell. He said he wants security for his trio, so he promised he wouldn’t oppose us if we didn’t oppose him.”

If Lyssa had been anything other than a high-level, highly skilled wood elf, she would have fallen from the tree.

“You two seem to have bonded closely in the last two days.”

“I don’t quite know what to make of him, actually. There’s a lot he’s keeping secret, but I believe him when he says he’ll help us. I didn’t accept his oath, though.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You denied the Oath of a son of the moon?” Lyssa’s voice had turned sharp.

Arche blinked in surprise. “You knew what he was?”

“Of course I knew, Greenstick, we’re elves. That’s not the point. He made you an Oath? You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I got a notification and everything. It said it was some sort of binding contract.”

“And you turned it down?”

“Yeah. It didn’t feel right. What he had swore was fine, but it felt too much like holding a blade above someone’s head. If we’re going to make allies, I don’t think it’s right to hold cosmic consequences over them.”

“You don’t understand the significance of what he offered you.”

“Oh, for sure. No idea.”

“Moon elves are used to make the most binding of contracts. Oaths in Tartarus carry consequences, but a moon elf’s heritage amplifies that. You said ‘cosmic consequences’ but I don’t think you realize how true that is. Having a moon elf handle a contract practically guarantees that both sides will keep their word.”

“You make them sound like tools.” Arche frowned.

“Many moon elves have been enslaved and used like tools. It’s no wonder that he wears that hood at all times. If he made you a vow of his own volition and you turned him down, well, to say such a thing is unheard of is an understatement.”

“I still don’t understand. Did I do the right thing or did I fuck up?”

“He risked his agency in this matter, you gave it back to him. Trust that you did the right thing.”

“Cool. I’ll add that to the list titled: ‘Went Better Than Expected.’”

Lyssa smirked and jumped down from the tree, landing without a sound on the soft earth below.

“Oh, we’re leaving now. All right.” Arche jumped down and landed with a heavy thud.

“I think it’s time we integrated with these people you seem so intent on saving.”

As they approached the village, Arche could see the glow of a fire burning. Music wafted over to them, the sound of instruments and singing. People were clapping and stomping their feet. They picked up their speed, trying to find out what was going on, and found that Helwan had apparently started a party. He was dancing wildly in the middle of a large group of people, playing his pan pipes expertly. Some of the other villagers had stringed instruments and drums and had joined in, and one elven woman had even started to sing. There was cheering and laughter and Arche found it hard not to join in on the fun. People were twirling about as they danced to the music and ale flowed from several tapped kegs.

Arche made a detour to Helwan’s tent and dropped off the Tridory, not wanting to carry a large weapon into the party. He still had his sword in his inventory if anything happened, but the happiness of the party was infectious. When he rejoined the crowd, several strangers went up to him to clasp his forearm and thank him. He took it in stride, not really sure what they were thanking him for, but smiling and nodding all the same. Helwan had finished his song and dance and let the other musicians take over. He made his way to Arche, grinning.

“A party! A real live party. Oh, ever since I spent those days locked in that room, I didn’t think I’d ever see one of these again. Come, my friend!”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Life! We celebrate life!”

Arche laughed and joined the satyr amongst the throng of dancing people. He didn’t particularly know how to dance, but his Dexterity was high enough that whatever he was doing at least looked intentional.

You have learned a Skill.

Dancing — Level 1

Grace and expression, or wild flailing. Your choice.

Each level in this skill improves your ability to rock your body.

Every 5 levels in this skill improves your Dexterity by 1.

This is a subskill of Performance.

+1% Fluidity of Motion (+1%)

+1% Body Control (+1%)

You have learned a Skill.

Performance — Level 1

Being the center of attention isn’t always as easy as it looks.

Each level in this skill improves your ability to physically perform, whether it be music, dance, or a demonstration of martial prowess. Every 5 levels in this skill improves your Charisma by 1.

+0.5% Overall Performance (+0.5%)

The grin on Arche’s face grew as he committed to having a good time. He had no idea what he was doing but that was half the fun. His body twisted left, then right. He crouched and waved his hands around; his shoulders swayed and his hips bounced. Several of the other dancers were watching him with bemused expressions, but he chose to believe that at least some of the looks were begrudging respect for his moves. Heat crawled into his face, making him flushed and giddy. He was getting into the swing of things when another stranger came up to thank him.

“What’s going on?” he asked Helwan, swinging his arms and snapping his fingers.

“I’ve been spreading word about you. How you came to help yesterday and how you stood up to Callias. You’ve left an impression on them.”

The satyr folded his arms across his chest and was dropping down into squats in time with the beat of the music, kicking his goat hooves out whenever he got low.

Someone brought out drinks and Arche grabbed a mug and drained it. A strong sense of bitter currants hit him and he coughed, but thankfully none of it found its way back up. He spied Vik and Gigator dancing near the musicians. Vik was doing a lithe, graceful sort of dance that made him look boneless with how he flowed in time to the music. Gigator, on the other hand, had taken a wide stance and was thrashing his head and tail about to the drumbeat, encouraging the musicians to play ever faster. Elpida, it seemed, was in no mood for dancing and instead stood near Lyssa, who had skirted around the dance floor. The two appeared to be engaged in quiet conversation, though what they could be discussing, Arche had no idea.

The music sped up, shifting seamlessly through songs. Arche danced, flailed, twirled, and jumped with the others. If he was getting looks before, nobody cared enough to notice as everyone freed themselves to the wildness of the dance.

Helwan leaped through the air, his pan pipes leading the music onward. Arche didn’t know if it was magic or music or both, but he was having the time of his life. Even Lyssa and Elpida, who had kept away from the mosh, found themselves sucked into the frenzy of it all. Drinks found their way into Arche’s hands, whether passed by Helwan or by grateful strangers. Several clashed their mugs against his and he found he had to drink quickly to keep from spilling it everywhere.

Someone brought out a firkin and a cheer went up. Arche danced his way over, noticing that his Performance and Dancing skills had reached level two. Someone filled up a cup and handed it to him. When he threw it back, the harsh sting—worse than any wine he’d ever tasted—made him gag and cough. Someone smacked him on the back and people laughed. Tears were running from his eyes as he waved off the good-natured inquiries.

“I wasn’t expecting liquor!”

“Liquor!” roared the thick, short man in front of him. “Away with your human piss. This here be felsbier, a dwarf’s drink!”

A cheer rose from other short men, presumably dwarves, gathered around him. Arche poured himself another glass and raised a toast.

“To felsbier!”

“To felsbier!” a score of dwarves shouted back.

“You seem a brawny enough fellow, how about a contest?”

Arche turned to see he was being addressed by another dwarf.

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, eyes already beginning to drift from drink and excitement.

“Like any true measure, we’ll see who’s the better by a comparison of balls.”

“Fuckin’ huh?”

One of the dwarves pressed a smooth, metal sphere the size of an apple into his hands. They cleared a pathway through the crowd to give them a corridor out of the party. Another dwarf dug his heel into the ground, marking out a line.

“Just stay behind this line and throw the ball as far as you can. I’ll go first and you just do like me if you can.”

The metal ball pulled Arche’s hands toward the ground but its weight wasn’t impossible to handle. His vision swam, but he managed to focus long enough to Examine it.

Ballast Ball

Rarity: Common

Quality: Good

Durability: 50 / 50

Weight: 15 kilograms

“That’s a lot,” Arche mumbled. “Fifteen whole whatevers.”

The dwarf stood several feet away from the line and took a slow walk toward it, spinning with the ballast ball held close to his cheek. When the dwarf reached the line, he launching the ball forward. The ballast ball sailed through the air and landed with a thunk in the side of the hill. A dwarf who had positioned himself on the hill ran over to stand on the impact site, measuring distance with his thumb.

“Twenty-five meters!” the dwarf shouted.

Arche tried to whistle, but only succeeded in blowing stinking breath out of his mouth. He hefted the ballast ball in one hand, knowing instinctively that if he tried to twirl around like the dwarf had then the only thing sent flying would be the contents of his stomach. A sly smile broke across his face. All he needed was a split second and there was plenty of light from the bonfire.

He might be able to get away with it.

Arche stood a few steps away from the line, holding the ball low with both hands. He skipped forward, brought his hands up, then back as he transitioned the ball to one hand. As he landed, he brought his arm up and forward to throw as hard as he could. At the same time, he activated his Divine Body ability, just for a moment. A moment was all he needed.

Two things happened in very quick succession.

First, he flashed like a red sun. Most of the people nearby flinched at the sudden radiance and looked away. Second, the ballast ball sailed clear over the hill and disappeared into the gloom beyond. The music paused as everyone tried to figure out what had happened. The measuring dwarf, who was standing on the hill they were throwing at, disappeared and reappeared a minute later, holding the ballast ball.

“Sixty meters!” the dwarf called out.

The crowd erupted.

Arche was immediately jostled and shaken by every dwarf in the entire village. Each of them wanted to shake his hand and challenge him, which he barely had the wherewithal to decline.

“If anyone wans-a beat me, beat mah record firs’,” he shouted, his words slipping over themselves. “I’m-a grab a drink!”

Someone pressed a cup into his hand and he drank it down, then turned back to the party, ready to dance again despite the rolling heat coming off his body. He felt a hand on his shoulder and the last thing he saw was a pretty smile, gently waving locks of golden hair, and brown eyes that could make all his worries go away.