Hadespera
The 16th of Mounichion
The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals
The journey to Myriatos took nine days of grueling travel. Arche didn’t speak much, leaving Helwan to pick up the slack in conversation. The satyr did his best to keep up morale by telling stories and singing songs, several of which were clearly made up on the spot. Basil was his best encouragement, always laughing at the jokes or learning the choruses to sing along. Cora led the way, often scouting far enough ahead to be out of earshot. Tess, too, was rather aloof. Joining in on the occasional conversation, but she exhibited none of her typical wit. Arche was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that when Helwan let out a sudden whoop, he lifted his spear, eyes wild and looking for danger, not realizing the satyr was celebrating Myriatos finally coming into view.
It had been a long few weeks. The days blended together in a mush. Until Helwan pointed it out, Arche hadn’t even realized they were close to the village. His profile codified his feelings with an upgraded debuff.
Exhaustion — Tier 3
-70% Vitals Regeneration
+25% Chance to make Mistakes
+70% Stamina Drain
-30% Agility
-30% Perception
There was little he could do about it. He had to find Lyssa, explain what happened, and plan their next move. He and his team had been gone for seventeen days, if his count was right. Almost four weeks in the Tartarus calendar.
Myriatos hadn’t waited for them. If anything, the village seemed to have challenged itself to see just how far it could progress before they returned. Lyssa had instructed Theodorous, the village steward, to work with carpenters and surveyors to decide the best location for the village. They had apparently decided on a more central point in the valley, still close to the river but not sandwiched between two hills as it was before. The tents were laid out in a grid fashion, with each claiming quite a bit of space around it, likely marking plots for small residences once the immediate infrastructural concerns had been met. Each tent was west of the village hall, which had somehow been transported from its original position to its new spot along with the rest of the village. They would have plenty of room to expand.
The most welcoming sight, however, was the wooden skeleton of a large building rising north of the village hall. There had been a lot of talk about what structure they would build first. Arche had argued for a wall, but Lyssa and Tess had both insisted that the villagers needed something other than tents to live in. A wall would be a lengthy endeavor that would take weeks, not days, to build. A wall would also require more stone than they had at hand and simply wasn’t feasible in the short-term. Lyssa had decided on a large, communal building called an insula, supposedly capable of housing a hundred people comfortably among its layout of various rooms.
He was glad to see the insula was close to completion. The finer points of construction were lost on him, but it seemed that the less developed their village was, the longer it would take to complete structures. The more developed they got, and the higher the corresponding skills of the craftsfolk, the faster the buildings would go up. As it was, the villagers were preparing to raise one of the final two walls, using a mixture of ropes and long poles to line up the wooden paneling. Several workers climbed the walls, getting into position on the wooden beams and rafters as they waited to fasten everything into place.
They crossed the river by use of a long rope tied in place on either side, suspended at about head height. It wasn’t convenient or quick, but shimmying along it let them get to the other side without a soak. As they approached the village, two guards Arche didn’t recognize waved at them. One ran off toward the village, the other ran to meet them. As the guard approached, Arche saw that it was a brawny elf woman with unnaturally yellow hair. She had a large battle-axe slung across her back and easily matched Arche’s own height, which only surprised him because he’d found he typically had a few fingers over everyone else.
“Arche.” The woman pounded one fist against her chest.
Arche paused for an awkward beat before realizing the gesture was some kind of salute. He returned it, a little too late to be natural, but the woman didn’t comment.
“Archousa requests that you see her at once. I am to lead you to her. Your party is free to recover from their journey.”
“Very well.” His voice sounded tired even to his own ears. “Lead the way.”
“You need rest, too, Arche,” Tess reminded him.
“Later.” He gave her a tired smile. “After all, I’ve been ‘summoned.’ I’ll catch you later. Don’t wait up.”
One by one, they handed him their packs, each full of dwarven treasure. Laden with more wealth than he could possibly comprehend, Arche followed the woman back to the village proper as she walked him toward the village hall. Her pace was quick and determined, which forced Arche to half-jog to keep up with her, to his annoyance. The guardswoman said nothing throughout the entire walk, which suited Arche fine. He was tired and could feel his temper rising, so silence was best for everyone. They arrived at the village hall and Arche waved the woman off before she grabbed the door.
“Thank you. As you were.”
Arche pushed open the doors and walked inside. The main hall was a very different place from the den of degeneracy it had been when he’d first entered the village. At that time, Callias Buteo had been the archon and had evidently been dead set on whoring his way through as many people as he could afford. To that extent, he had decorated the building with extravagant furniture and drapings, the kind that would be expected of the affluent elite.
Lyssa had since had the carpenters salvage the items, sanitize them, and repurpose them into more practical furniture. The large, central room was now sparsely decorated with a few seats and desks, the largest of which was positioned near the back of the building, within easy sightline of a glass window, one of the few they had.
On top of the desk was a large scattering of parchment, behind which sat Lyssa. Head in her hands as she scanned through report after report. She looked up as Arche approached, a sudden smile quickly giving way to concern.
“Are you all right?” she asked, rising from the chair.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just tired.”
Arche tried to wave off her concern but she stared him down.
“Arche.” She drew out his name, her tone slightly scolding.
“I’m…a little more than tired,” he hedged.
“You’re a mess.”
“Yes. Yes, I am. How are you? Village looks good.”
Lyssa sighed, glancing out the window.
“Myriatos was truly a fitting name, as there are a myriad of responsibilities that have come with it. Everyone has a problem and I’m supposed to have all the answers. Theodorous has been irreplaceable, but two people alone seem barely enough to handle every situation. Please tell me your task went well.”
Arche scratched the back of his head, scrunching up his face. Lyssa sighed again, then sat back down in her chair, gesturing Arche toward one placed opposite.
“What happened?”
“So, we got there, got the treasure, very few complications. Fought a big plant monster at the mouth of the dungeon, that was a bit terrifying. Once inside, things were going all right, but I decided to go deeper than we went before.”
“Your task was to retrieve the treasure, not to clear the dungeon.”
“Yes, you’re right. You remember that undercurrent of death magic, though? It was still there. Also, the last time we were there, we never found any remnants of dwarves. I thought there were aspects worth exploring, if for nothing else than to determine if any threat remained to our village or to Dawnwood.”
“What did you find?”
“A threat.”
Arche rubbed his eyes, feeling the strain of the last four weeks. Last two months, really.
“We encountered a sarcophagus that contained a vampire. She was also a powerful necromancer.”
Lyssa’s mouth opened in shock.
“A vampire? Truly? Not an empousa or vrykolakas?”
Arche didn’t even pretend he knew what she was talking about, he just nodded.
“Yeah. What’s worse, she got away. Very nearly killed me in the process.”
“You were bitten?”
He pulled down the fabric of his cloak, revealing the scar where Aima had torn a chunk out of his throat.
“Helwan did the best patch job he could, but I doubt I’ll be getting rid of these anytime soon.”
“That’s not good.”
“I’m not gonna turn into a vampire, am I? It’s been about two weeks and I don’t feel any different.”
“I don’t believe so. My understanding is that vampires have to drain their victims to death in order to raise them as their spawn, but that comes from folktales, not study. You said you did not die, does your heart still beat?”
Arche raised two fingers to the side of his throat.
“Blood’s still flowing. Does that mean I’m in the clear?”
Lyssa shrugged.
“You should see one of the healers before you rest. They will be able to determine if you need further attention. This vampire, did you learn their name?”
“Aima. She was skin and bones at first, like a walking corpse, but when she drank some of my blood, she looked much more alive. She summoned the revenant; it was her minion all along. That, at least, I can confirm is dead. I even got a souvenir out of it.”
Arche retrieved the revenant sword from his inventory and placed it on the desk. Lyssa picked it up and looked it over.
“How was this made?”
“I ripped out one of the revenant’s ribs in our fight. Aima got ahold of it and fashioned it into this. When she fled, it was left behind. Ultimately, Tess used it to kill the revenant.”
“Hmm, I will need to speak to Helwan and some of the other mages. A vampire in our woods can only be trouble.”
“Yeah. What’s more, it may have a personal vendetta against me.”
Lyssa transfixed him with a stern glare, one eyebrow raised. He held up his hands in surrender.
“During our fight, I tried to form a psychic link to defeat her. As it turns out, her mental defenses were pretty strong. I ended up melding with some of her memories. I don’t think she got to see anything of mine, but I’m not certain. What’s more, she could smell the Divine Spark on me. I don’t know if it affects my blood or not, but she seemed very interested in getting more.”
“You really do make friends wherever you go, don’t you?”
“You have no idea. We ran into some old friends of yours on the way out, too.”
“What?”
“Dawnwood elves. They snuck into our camp after we left the ruins. No, before you ask, we didn’t enter Dawnwood territory. We were very careful to stay out of it. That didn’t stop some asshat by the name of Figoritolos from threatening to kill all of us.”
“Fig?” Lyssa frowned, her voice unsure. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“Just telling you what happened. We told them that a vampire had gotten free. Hopefully he takes that message back to your dad.”
“Thank you for that. If someone that powerful is in the vicinity, I’m sure he’ll be doing all he can to protect our…” she cleared her throat, “…his people.”
“How are you doing about that? That can’t have been an easy shift.”
“I miss my home.” Lyssa shrugged. “I miss my father. These are things that will not change, but I can never go back. That is my reality. Myriatos is my home now and I will serve it as such.”
“Wow. That’s actually kind of inspiring.”
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“If you insist. Now, I must insist. What has been going on with you? You look much worse than you should for a trip through the woods.”
“I’m fine, really,” Arche insisted. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I remember before when you didn’t sleep well. You did not look like this. You look like you’re not sleeping at all.”
Arche blew his cheeks out.
“You know, sometimes I forget just how high your Perception is.”
“Don’t deflect, Arche. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m Exhausted, all right? Like, no-kidding, got-the-debuff-to-prove-it Exhausted.”
“What tier?”
“Three.”
Lyssa was quiet for a moment. Her green eyes bored into him, seeming to evaluate everything about him from the dirt on his clothing to the bags beneath his eyes.
“Very well. I’m pulling you from duties. I’ll speak with Helwan and Tess to get the rest of the information.”
“Whoa, hang on! I can still help out.”
“Absolutely not. Your only concern right now should be yourself. You are not well, Arche. A child could see that. You need to take care of your body and your mind. You have worth beyond what you offer to this village, but you need to take care of yourself before you can help everyone else.”
He opened and shut his mouth a few times, taken off-guard by that last comment.
“What about the trip to Ship’s Shape? I’m not sitting that one out.”
“Then you had best take extra care of yourself before they set out. It will take a few days, I imagine, for Helwan and Theodorous to catalogue each artifact and assess its price. Your only official duty until that time is to recover.”
“What am I supposed to do? Sit in my room?”
“Do whatever you like, Arche.” Lyssa smiled at him. “But I recommend you start with getting some sleep.”
“What about the construction efforts? The guards? Hell, the fucking vampire that’s literally out for my blood? We can’t afford for me to take time off right now.”
“All of those things will be dealt with in due time. Do I need to give you an official order to go rest? Should I treat you as the petulant child you’re acting like?”
Arche threw his hands up.
“You know what, fine. Fine. Fuck it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Was it petulant? Most certainly. But he was too tired to care and there would be time to apologize later. Arche stood from his chair and let the packs drop to the floor next to Lyssa’s desk. He stormed up the stairs and into his room without another word. It occurred to him only after he slammed the door that he had not eaten since early that morning. Despite the quiet gurgle in his stomach, he’d lost his appetite. With the way he was feeling, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to keep food down, anyway.
Arche doffed his armor and cloak, storing the items safely in his inventory. Part of his cloak’s magic helped keep it clean from muck and grime, but he had no such enchantment on his armor, which was filthy from weeks of use. As it was, that was a chore he could deal with another time. What he really needed was a bath.
Arche rubbed his eyes and looked around his room. There wasn’t much to brag about. A simple bed, wooden frame and wool mattress wrapped in fabric, sat to one side. Above it, a massive axe was mounted to the wall. Arche glared at it and rubbed his chest, the scar flesh prickling. It was a good reminder of the price of failure.
Tearing his eyes away, Arche noticed two new additions. One, a simple wardrobe for storing clothing, the other, a large wooden basin. Arche walked to the wardrobe first. Three changes of clothes were inside, two pairs of pants and shirts, plus a robe that more resembled a curtain. He was glad for it, as it meant he had backups for when the rest of his clothes were inevitably ripped to pieces. Arche opened his inventory and searched through the spaces until he found what he’d been looking for.
Danocles, the half-orc leatherworker who had built his armor, had also made him a special project out of the mantikhoras’s wings. It was a harness that would easily fit and sinch over a breastplate. A simple, mechanical activation on the front would pop out two massive, red wings to act as a glider. It was awesome, but Arche had no purpose for it. Wearing it, he was more likely to break it than use it, so the wardrobe would be as good as anything else. Perhaps he could find a place to display it later.
Item is not compatible with storage space.
Arche glared at the notification. Everything cool seemed to be incompatible with storage. Still, it was taking up valuable space and he had no current use for it, so he shoved it under the bed.
Sufficiently unloaded, Arche walked to the basin and nudged it with his foot.
Simple Washing Basin
This basin has enough water for 3 uses.
Would you like to take a bath?
Yes
No
Arche scratched his head.
“Yeah, sure.”
This basin has enough water for 2 uses.
The basin filled itself from the bottom up, stopping two hand-widths from the top. Arche dipped an exploratory finger in. Cold, much to his disappointment. It must have been taken from the river and whatever storage system the basin used probably preserved the temperature. Still, a private bath and a fresh bed was better than anything he’d had in quite a while. He quickly stripped off the last of his clothing, leaving it piled on the floor, and stepped in, shivering but satisfied.
Arche leaned back, submerging himself down to his neck as he propped his feet on the edges of the basin. The temperature made him shiver, but quickly became bearable. Just sitting in the bath after all the days of traveling and adventuring was enough to turn the water brown. He scooped it with his hands and poured it over his face and hair before it became too dirty, wishing desperately his worries would come away as easily as the muck.
Time was a funny thing, especially while sitting in a bath. It couldn’t have been past midday when they’d arrived at the village, but when Arche shook himself out of a stupor and finally stood, the sky outside his window was dark and the bath had long since grown tepid. Water dripped onto the wooden floorboards as he stretched and rubbed his face.
Empty basin?
Yes
No
Arche indicated ‘yes’ and watched as the water and grime slowly drained until the basin was bone dry. He cocked his head, then nudged the basin with one foot, pulling up its interface again. He confirmed that it still only had enough water for two more uses, then scratched his head.
“Where did the water…go?”
The basin declined to answer.
He shrugged. As long as it didn’t end up all over his floor, he wasn’t going to be mad about it. The bed was singing him a soft, siren song with its piled blankets and single pillow. He turned to submit to its temptation and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Arche turned and crouched, one hand rising defensively as the other went down to cover his pride. Hanging from the cabinet, a reflection of him did the same.
He paused. He hadn’t really taken a look at himself since he had gained his Profession. His hair had grown out from the close crop he’d sported when Lyssa first found him. Dark brown strands flayed out over his ears and across his forehead. It was longer than he would have liked. Perhaps someone in town could cut it for him.
Beneath his mop, dark eyes stared back at him. The brown mixed with the black until color lost all meaning in them, further accentuated by the intense bags of sleeplessness that gave him a haunted look. It was little wonder why everyone was worried about him.
His scars were still the most prominent feature of his face. Many had faded into silver lines as his Comeliness attribute had risen but several still blazed an angry purple and red. They carved tracks across the entirety of his face, some raised and others pocked. Arche rubbed them, watching the scars bend and contort. Anger still simmered at the sight of them, but he was too tired to be mad about it. They were a fact of his life, just like his brown hair and eyes. He didn’t have to like them, but he did have to accept them.
His focus drew down toward his new scars. The one on his neck had turned silver, large fang marks in a rough circle. No disease or curse notifications had arisen and he hadn’t died from the attack, thankfully, so he should be fine. Still, it was best practice to get a healer’s opinion on the matter, especially if there was a lingering threat. Arche had no interest in finding out what fresh hell a second death would bring him.
At the thought of Death Sickness, his gaze dropped to the scar on his chest. Large and purple, canted at a slight angle, splitting his heart. The memory of Eten and Nete pressing the axe into him seemed to play every time he closed his eyes, the feeling of his bones cracking, his lungs deflating, his heart shorn in two. The thought alone was enough to hear the gentle roar of blood in his ears.
Arche took the mirror off the cabinet and set it down facing the wall. He’d seen enough. He didn’t need to be reminded of what he’d been through, what he’d survived and what he hadn’t. No one could help him. No one understood. No one else had been forced to meet Death and gotten to come back.
“Well,” he reminded himself, “that’s not exactly true, now is it?”
A knock at the door made him jump.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Tess’s voice called back. “Can I come in?”
Arche looked down at himself, still naked from his bath.
“Hang on a minute, changing.”
“If you insist.”
The pout in her voice set his cheeks aflame, more effective than any campfire.
Arche threw on a simple green shirt and brown pants. On the way to the door he kicked his old, discarded clothes and stowed them away in his inventory. Pausing at the handle, he ran a hand through his hair and tried to seem calm. In actuality, his heart was pounding. Why was she there?
The door opened and Tess smiled at him in a simple red dress. Her blonde hair was wet and slicked back, clearly still drying from her own bath. Calm? Calm was a distant memory. A thing that other men got to experience. Arche lost all powers of speech. Her eyes glittered at him, dark planets he could lose himself into, an expanse he could study for a thousand years and still never tire of.
“Can I come in?”
Arche realized he was blocking the doorway, staring at her.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course, sorry. Come in.”
He stepped to the side, letting her walk past before shutting the door.
“Dark in here,” she said, running a finger across the bedspread.
“Haven’t gotten a good lantern yet. Actually, I’m hoping to get one of those Everlit Lanterns that Helwan has.”
“It does come in handy, doesn’t it?”
She sat down on his bed, the only true seat in the room, so Arche sat against the lip of the wash basin, dismissing the thoroughly unhelpful prompt asking him if he wanted to take a bath.
“I came to apologize,” Tess said, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Huh?” Of all the things he expected—or hoped for—her to say, that statement hadn’t even made the list. “What for?”
“I said some unkind things to you in the forest. I’ve been reflecting on that conversation and I realized I was unfair.”
Arche shrugged.
“I don’t know about that, but thank you, all the same. I’m sorry, too.”
“I’ve been doing some thinking lately. About life, about myself, about us. It’s all complicated and I’ve barely begun to unravel my own feelings on the matter, but I think to that effect I’ve been cruel to you.”
Arche’s eyebrows shot up.
“Well, I wouldn’t say cruel, but I’ve definitely been getting mixed messages. One minute we’re flirting, kind of like this actually, and the next minute it’s like we’re fighting, only I don’t know why we’re fighting or what we’re even fighting about.”
Tess grimaced and fiddled with a wet strand of hair.
“That makes two of us, then. I care about you, Arche. A lot more than I expected to, if I’m being honest. Down in the Vivitorium, I was in shock when you died. Especially, I think, because I was still reeling from our minds connecting. After that, I wanted time to figure out how I felt because I was scared by how strong my feelings were. It felt strange, almost foreign to me, so I blamed you for it. I’d never felt like that for someone, so clearly it must have been what you did to me, right?”
Arche shifted uneasily. This wasn’t going at all how he had hoped. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand.
“No, let me finish. Then we went on this mission together. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be making my way to another dungeon, especially so soon after the Vivitorium, but I also didn’t want you to go alone. Then you almost died to that plant monster, then again to that vampire woman. And in that, I realized something.”
“That I’m accident-prone?”
“No.” Tess stood and walked to the window. “That I don’t care why I feel what I do. I still feel it. That my feelings can be my own if I accept them. I can tell you’ve been struggling lately. You need to find something new to tell people other than that you’re ‘fine’ because I can promise you no one believes you.”
Arche let out a bark of a laugh and scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been having a rough go of it, lately. My turn to be honest. I don’t know what to do about it. Every time I close my eyes, I see the axe coming. When I sleep, it’s worse, so I don’t sleep. I get a few hours every couple days and it’s all I can do not to scream when the axe cuts into my chest. ”
Tess nodded.
“When it gets quiet and I have time to myself to think, I can still feel claws ripping through my sides.” She touched a spot just over her left hip. “I still remember what it felt like, to have life slip away from me. I’ll never forget that feeling, just like I’ll never forget that you came to save me. Twice. I think that’s been the biggest issue for me in all of this.”
Arche frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Tess shook her head. “A part of me resents you for it. I’m grateful, please don’t misunderstand, but at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if I deserved it.”
Arche blinked.
“That’s crazy. Of course you don’t deserve to die.”
“I’ve done a lot of bad things, Arche. Things I’m not proud of. Things you still don’t know about.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does. I told you I’d mourn you if Tartarus had turned you cruel, and that’s true, but it’s because it turned me cruel a long time ago. It sharpened me into a tool. A thing to be used and tossed aside. No one has ever looked at me like you do, like there’s still something good inside me. I need that, Arche. I need that like breathing.”
Tess’s voice caught. She turned away from the window and met his gaze. Tears streamed down her face.
“I don’t know if I can bear to see you look at me like everyone else does.”
Arche stood and walked to her.
“Theresa,” he said, putting a hand on hers. “There is goodness in you. I saw it long before our minds connected. I saw it even after you tied me to a tree and left a knife in my ribs. What you’ve done doesn’t define who you are. No one gets to choose that but you. You can do dark things without being a dark person.”
“I don’t know if I believe that.”
“Then I can believe it for the both of us.”
Her brown eyes met his, searching for something there. He smiled. It was a sad smile, an acknowledgement of their shared pain, their shared fears. Through it, he tried to put all his reassurance and all of his hope for the future. She raised a hand and placed it gently against his cheek, her thumb brushing against the ridgeline of one of his scars. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch. There was nothing in the world but her looking at him, the softness of her hand against his skin, the floral scent of her, the closeness of her body, the vulnerability in her eyes.
“You haven’t been drinking felsbier tonight, have you?” she asked quietly.
Arche’s cheeks warmed as he remembered the night they’d met.
“Not a drop. Why?”
“Because I want you to remember this.”
She grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and pulled him toward her. Their lips met and Arche fell into the kiss. One hand rose to cup her cheek, marveling at how soft she was, the other found the small of her back and pressed her into him. For her part, she held him tight, both hands knotted in his shirt. Her lips tasted of strawberries and mint, the most wonderful things in the world. He held her for an eternity, wrapped together, alight in the face of Tartarus’s blue moon, Selene, which shone bright and full through the window.
For the first time in a while, Arche didn’t feel alone.