Evelyn Merritt
As expected, the mist gave way to fog as the expedition arrived atop the second plateau. To the eye, there wasn’t much difference between the white wisps. Both were cool and damp to the skin. The difference was apparent to anyone who was paying attention. She knew most people missed the details, but such a thing had long been impossible for her to ignore. Even when Evelyn tried to. It just wasn’t safe. Obsessive observation was her most dire instinct, ever painfully active. Debuting in the dagger Sister’s way of life long before The Pit. Since the heart of childhood. Short lived as that was.
Because of what haunted Evelyn, she instantly knew when the changeover happened. Mist was like rain so light it got lost in the wind and forgot to fall. Fog was the wind, drifting and spreading like a breeze close to the ground. Her compulsion for the details made noting this a matter of course. Always constantly noticing and cataloging.
How else could you know the ebb and flow of danger?
There was little ceremony as the parties went their different ways. Each leader fiddled with the watches in synchronization to set the hour and off everyone went. The Sisters had given their loyalty to Molly, but for the moment Malachi gave the overall orders. Their party’s strength had not yet claimed the leader of the Sixty’s confidence. That rubbed Evelyn wrong, but she couldn’t really argue against it. They were newly formed and untested as a group out in the wilds. She looked forward to when they were able to roam free.
Working together, but allowed some autonomy, the left forward, flank, and back were given to them to defend and watch. The Sisters walked in a curved formation at the front with Evelyn in the middle. Norah and Adrienne watched their part of the rear and Molly walked queenly in the middle. More a threat to all directions than being protected.
The three of them had picked Molly to form a party with because they greatly respected the cool-eyed woman. Training with her had proven that choice correct. In ways beyond her astonishing organizational skills. The acolyte of curses seemed unburdened. Flourishing in her freedom. Evelyn was terrified and awestruck by the power of her leader’s curses. They didn’t have the destructive showing of Damien, but their damage was devastating. Crippling.
There might not be a strong defensive line in the Sisters’ party, but their safety wasn’t in question. Anything that got close would wither under the weight of curses from several members.
Evelyn watched their surroundings carefully. As much to catch any signs of danger as hoping something would make an appearance. Anything to pour her bitterness into. The blue birds had been hardly a threat. Those feathers had proved weak against the cursed flames of the Sisters. Defeat followed quickly once the monster fell burning to the earth. There was little satisfaction for their itch of indignation. The least The Pit owed them was something worth a fight.
It grew strangely dark in the foggy woods. The branches above didn’t seem any thicker with leaves, but the fog did flow thicker here. Little of the light from the bright sun-like crystal was making it through. Where the forest of the first plateau offered a pleasant stroll through glowing woods, the second’s forest was a gloomy march. Inviting images of haunted trees. Not very pleasant, yet somehow comforting. Much closer to the environment of the tunnels of the Ratsins. Something the Sisters and Evelyn believed represented the true face of The Pit. Horror and survival.
It’s best not ta forget what kind of place this is, grumbled the dagger Sister.
She periodically scanned the limbs overhanging them for bird signs. Occasionally catching the fluttering of feathers. Through shade and fog, it was hard to tell, but these birds appeared to be colored red. Another note of difference was the leaves of these trees. They had the same disorienting shape, but instead of hinting at a triangle, there was the impression of a circle. Almost like rings hanging. There was also a reddish tint to the growth as well. She wasn’t sure what the difference meant.
“Where do you think the fog comes from?” asked Marceline in her usual hushed tone that always seemed like a whisper.
Amelia answered dreamily, “Doesn’t it just form? Puff and shoo, there it is.”
The diminutive Sister frowned, “No. It doesn’t just poof into existence.”
The spear Sister argued, “Doesn’t it?”
“Nah, Amelia, she’s right,” said Evelyn entering the conversation. “There’s factors to it. Bodies of water, temperature, wind… all that stuff. Mostly humidity and it gets cold in the right way.”
Marceline’s small smile gleamed in victory as Amelia pouted before asking, “Then why is there fog here? It isn’t humid… a little dry is it not?”
The sword Sister nodded once to enthusiastically agree, saying, “That’s exactly my point. Where is the fog from?”
Alarm filtered through Eveyln’s veins as she blinked a couple of times in surprise. She turned her panic-fueled observations onto the fog itself. Feeling angry and bashful for ignoring it while extolling herself for caring about the details. The air between the trees was cooler, but plainly not wet. There was also the texture of the fog that looked off. Thicker than expected and pooled heavily on the ground as it drifted. Strangest of all was the smell that had been only mildly noticeable before. Now it was gathering in strength.
“Is that CINNAMON?” asked a bewildered Evelyn.
“Hmm, I was wondering why I was thinking about cinnamon rolls…” reflected Amelia.
“That is odd,” agreed Marceline.
Molly stepped up, concerned she looked for an answer, “What’s the issue?”
“O’ um we’re not sure this is fog,” blushed Evelyn. “It’s very dry and smells similar to cinnamon.”
“Yes, I noticed, likely a gas of some sort” nodded the cool-eyed woman. The Sisters visibly relaxed that it was already in hand. “I think it is coming from the trees. So far it seems harmless. Do monitor your breathing though, and your other vitals. Just in case. As the fog becomes thicker, there is a chance the oxygen in the air may be replaced to detrimental levels.”
The three of them nodded and looked in the direction the two parties were going. Ahead the forest got darker and the fog thicker. Evelyn was vaguely reminded of someone overusing a fog machine at a middle school dance. A low-toned bird song crossed the air like an omen.
Zachariah Law
Gurgling below, the river was out of sight as Elena led the way for Warner’s party. They kept away from the cliff edge in case any giant otters decided to shoot at them. Atop the cliff as the party was, retaliation would be difficult. Instead, the foggy forest loomed over them closely on their right. He held the rear, eyes swiveling across the surroundings before coming back to the party and then off surveying again. Spear and shield at the ready.
Everyone was alert as well. Not allowing themselves to slack, though the path assigned to them was to be an easy one. Weapons in hands, eyes flickering in the directions that were theirs to watch. That still left plenty of extra time and energy to talk. Low tones and quiet words, but still chatter.
Zachariah held the rear silent and watchful, as always. His attention was divided just like theirs. Busying himself observing the group and their vicinity. They talked, and he listened. A situation that was so common to him that it was comfortably normal. His teammates had nothing to hide from him nor would they hold back, but that hadn't always been the case with things he overheard in the past. People forgot the quiet man and spilled their secrets in the ears of ignored strangers. He never even tried to know them. The shield bearer had just been there. Watchful. Listening.
He may have joined the chatter himself if Elena had not been at the front. The conversations between the two of them were always fulfilling and the silences warm too. It wasn’t from any ill feelings about the others. Zachariah rarely had anything to say to most people. His tongue didn’t tie itself up either. Just nothing came to mind to say. Happy to listen to anything, but he seldom felt the need to be listened to. Elena, his battle partner, was different. To her, he wanted to say many things and somehow could.
The silence now wasn’t something he regretted. It was pleasant to stand at the edge of things. There were plenty of times Zachariah wished he could be. When things became tense or chaotic, being out to the side allowed you time to think. The pressure couldn’t force you to act blindly. That wasn’t his way. Better, truer, to quietly abide until the right choices were clear. That he liked best.
Now, today, was a good time to observe anyway. Conversations with Elena could wait. Warner’s party had experienced a great deal of upheaval recently. The spear-bearer wanted to get a view of the current state of things. To gleam what cracks there might be. See something like that soon enough and Zachariah was confident he could encourage their mending. The quiet man saw much. Listening brought wisdom. He had learned where a whisper could change many things.
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At the heart of the recent disturbances was, of course, Warner. Their hearty leader who allowed his ambition to drive him to idiocy. Elena offered him forgiveness effortlessly, so Zachariah did the same. He trusted her judgment, but also trusted himself to make sure. Confident that he could see if the big man wasn’t truly repentant. Should arrogance return, the shieldbearer would depart the party. His partner would see reason. You couldn’t trust someone who used you as a pawn. Only the mad and desperate could accept such terms. He was neither of those things.
Enduring patience was a valuable strength.
So far, Warner had proven trustworthy. Changing was not easy, but the big man strived to do so. Zachariah didn’t begrudge him his moments of hesitancy. They were the signs of reflection. Good omens. Things would likely continue on this positive track for their leader. He would be watching to make sure.
Jorgenson had proved to have the most interesting change since the party wipe. The rest had barely changed. Carrick’s enthusiasm and worship of Warner hadn’t faltered an inch. One might assume him a complete fool, but their healer’s skill with Mana proved that there was something actually sharp rattling around up there. Elena’s extra caution wasn’t worth mentioning and Brice was too new. Zachariah was still learning the patterns that made up their new archer. In the face of this normalcy, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that the storm acolyte stood out. She had always been a unique creature.
The hints and signs of the current state affairs were there upon reflection. Zachariah had noticed them, but simply filed them alongside her displays of respect. Warner’s style of leadership had clearly been a comfortable fit for Jorgenson. Hearing about her prior military experience had been a key piece of information for him. Everything observed became neatly comprehensible. A familiar pattern.
Yet, it was a complete surprise when the brash woman began to flirt. Not that anyone noticed, the flirting wasn’t particularly skilled. A casual observer would assume that Jorgenson was trying to bully her target. Tease at the very least. Zachariah acknowledged that this was certainly a style of flirting, but with Warner, it was not effective at all. The big man met the skewed coquettishness with a grin and oblivious replies. Any subtext was completely missed. A display that was as amusing as it was tragic.
Molly’s departure must have been the signal to move in, theorized the spear wielder. The way Warner and she eyed each other, the mutual attraction was apparent even to the blind. Jorgenson respects the two of them too much to mess that up when it seemed inevitable. Now, though… our leader is cut free.
It still felt strange to see despite Zachariah easily tracing and cataloging the new behavior. There was precedent. Upon reflection, he remembered actions that Jorgenson took that now made sense. She liked Warner. He just couldn’t feel good about this. Not out of fear of party drama, which would be reasonable with recent events, but because the shieldbearer felt disappointed.
Perhaps I am too much the romantic, he pondered. A softy for a good love story. Warner and Molly. They were a good match… well, could have been with a little maturing. If Jorgenson swoops in, where’s the comeback story for love?
He felt quite morose. The new development fractured his thoughts, if not his guard. Becoming something Zachariah had to slowly overcome with binds of logic. Forcibly acknowledge you couldn’t, shouldn’t push two people together if they didn’t want it. You had to let them find their own happiness. His silent patience was coming back together when the party went quiet.
At first, he was alarmed, frantic to find the danger. Then the spear wielder saw that the world had come to an end. Below. the river's song had become a roar as it dived off the edge of the world into the very distant lake. Zachariah checked their surroundings, but the siren song of looking from the cliff’s edge was impossible to ignore.
A reminder that even in dark and dangerous places, there are good things to admire, Zachariah whispered to himself.
Elena and he shared a friendly smile. Each sharing in their wonder at the scenery.
It was beautiful
Vivian Russel
Red feathers littered the charred ground and fluttered through the smokey air. Hands planted on her hips, she stared down Kai with a frown. He responded to this displeasure by grinning. Rolling his shoulders in a lazy shrug. During their staring contest, a feather floated by to graze perfectly under the prideful acolyte’s nose. His eyes went wide as if betrayed. A loud sneeze escaped to echo among the trees behind him.
Her lips quirked as she fought down a smile and the urge to laugh. Vivian was mad. The wrathful healer would have her say. Even if it was pleasing to see Kai’s composure ruffled by a feather. Especially one that was only in the air because of his actions.
“You deserve worse,” growled Vivian. Her love was busy rubbing his nose and pretending to ignore her while he eyed the feathers suspiciously. “I can’t believe you could be so reckless!”
Kai frowned at the accusation. Saying in his defense, “Reckless? I picked a leaf! Who knew that would cause such a ruckus!?”
“You should have! We already knew the beasts here protect the trees!”
“Look, my love, I’m sorry,” said Kai soothingly. “I thought it would be a moment’s effort. Surprisingly troublesome to take a single leave from these guys.” He sharply grinned at the trees, posture threatening.
“The whole tree shook like you were trying to rip off a branch! No wonder a whole flock attacked us!”
“They’re really attached! I went to pluck one and… everything, well… just escalated.”
“Escalated,” mocked Vivian. “That’s one way to describe you playing tug of war with a tree and a flock of fiery birds trying to peck our eyes out!”
“That’s a bit hyperbolic, my dear. Monsters attacked and we fought them. Sure it was a little bit of a surprise, but no one’s eyes were in any danger. We’re experienced monster killers now.”
“No one’s eyes were in danger, huh? What about poor Allen? They flew right through his fire and scratched his face!” Vivian turned and violently pointed out the fire acolyte who was blinking his newly healed eyes back into focus. “Luckily it was only heat damage to his eyes.”
“Well, no worries then. You healed us all up. I got my leaf and we got some cores.”
“That doesn’t make it ok! Allen…”
Vivian was ramping up, but the formerly hurt man cut in. “Please leave me out of your argumentative foreplay. I haven’t any desire to be a prop in it.”
The couple blushed and went silent. Awkwardly they let the fight die so the party could get moving again. Side by side they walked. The low-lying fog kicked into swirls with each step as the floor border continued on their right and the forest on their left. Vivian wrung her hands in quiet thought and Kai twiddled with the bluish leaf.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” she said to break their silence. “I don’t like seeing people get hurt. Ever, but more so when it was unnecessary.”
“I know,” smiled Kai, a soft and unguarded one. “I’m not bothered by it. Your passion is my favorite thing about you. I will always know where I stand with you. There is no mask, just you. The one I love.”
She smiled, hiding it but allowing him to see the edge of it. The tension left her shoulder as her guilt and anger settled down. There was a lot that Vivian hated. Sometimes it seemed to her that was the only feeling she could experience anymore. Except when Kai was around. Then love and a slew of other connected positivity bubbled up. All of it almost flooding out the rest of her senses. It was a needed reminder of life’s pleasure.
Her life Before had not been good, though Vivian was proud of what she made of those decades. A chilly childhood had made emotions unsafe to show. Forced to push every expression and reaction down until there was only dreadful numbness. Anger became the single sure way to bring any warmth back, awakening some sensation. When that’s the only way to feel, you stoked your rage just so you can feel alive even for a moment. So she did. Letting it flow out freely. Living for those short bursts.
The first time she clearly remembered feeling anything beyond anger was when Kai made his all too brief appearance in her life. A beautiful stranger that had been as drawn to her as Vivian to him. Claiming a spot in her heart as if it had been made for him. Their time together felt miraculous. Beyond every expectation, things had been good for that span. Every day brought new joy, but all good things come to an end. Kai got that terrible phone call and both their hearts broke.
Enduring after his departure was just a return to the norm. Anger to keep the numbness away. Never expecting to see her love again despite the promises. The world was never that kind. She was right too. It wasn’t on Earth that Vivian got to see Kai again. It was The Pit. For all its horrors and dangers, the wrathful healer would be grateful for this place. They were together again and that was all that mattered.
Vivian took Kai’s hand in a rare show of public affection. The good feelings brimming in her enough that she didn’t care to be seen by the others. Gripping back without bringing attention to it, the prideful acolyte smiled knowing his love wouldn’t want a big deal to be made of this. To her, intimacy was a private expression.
The two of them were lost in their moment. They barely noticed when the fog faded away and the plateau ended at a new river. It was when the party stopped around them that they allowed the rest of the world to intrude.
Vivan frowned at the new view. Below was a river much like the one about an hour behind them. Tormented and fast-paced. One difference was that on their side of the water there was no path, only the ruined remains that such a thing might have existed once upon a time. Another was that it was wider by half. The biggest difference in the scenery was the land across the way. It wasn’t a single plateau like the one they stood on nor roughly two plateaus like the first. Instead on the other side of the river were dozens of islands of towering stone of various sizes. A top of them more of those tubular trees. The leaves of these were reddish like the edge of autumn. Colorful birds of various colors shifted about the islands. No coloration seemed to repeat.
“There’s no place to cross behind this waterfall,” announced Francisco, their attached scout. The party glanced in the direction he had come. The source of this river was an identical waterfall that was fittingly larger. As the man had said, there wasn’t any way to slip behind the falls.
Hector asked what they were all thinking, “How do get over there then?”
“We’ll figure it out,” cheered Phelian. “This floor is like a maze I think.”
The party fell into a discussion about where the next path might be found, but Vivian zoned out. Her shoulders rolled a bit. Anyone but Kai noticing would just think she was just stretching. He grinned down at her, knowing that Vivian was shrugging with indifference. Going upwards wasn’t much of a concern for the two of them. Especially not a dire one. They were just enjoying the time together. Her love came because she chose to and that happened because the wrathful healer didn’t like the idea of anyone getting hurt. Healing was her calling no matter the world.
When Phelian declared the hour, Vivian and Kai absently agreed to return. Sharing a walk was good as anything. No matter the destination.