“Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice?”

-William Butler Yeats

==Zidaun==

I dreaded the passing of time, the hours implacable in their passing. Each brought my time with Phanal closer to its end. Admittedly, Phanal knew exactly how to cut through my melancholy. He did it well enough at times I almost wanted time to move faster.

“So, have you gotten into a proper relationship with that human yet? Firi was his name, right?”

Phanal had brought tea with him, and we were both indulging in it at the moment. That proved unfortunate as I spewed out the mouthful I had been drinking. I started to cough as I inhaled what little remained.

Phanal’s laughter didn’t help.

I glared at him, my eyes watery, but his laughter only increased. Eventually his laughter grew too much and turned into a cough. Even as he wheezed afterward, the tempo still had the suspicious staccato rhythm of a laugh.

Ultimately, I gave up on my glare, and just sighed.

“No,” I said. “I… am hoping it might be possible now. I am going to be here from now on. I didn’t want it to just be physical.”

He nodded.

“There are limits,” he said, “to how much you can share. However, take what joy you can. I had a number relationships before I ever returned home. Some were short passionate things, but some burned on for years. They knew I couldn’t tell them everything. And most of them knew me enough not to ask.”

“I,” my voice caught for a moment, “might not need to hide everything from them.”

His eyes grew sharp and his tone even sharper.

“What do you mean?”

“I bound them with an oath,” I said. “They learned a secret, and I had to or…”

I let my voice trail off, containing my horror as best I could. I closed my eyes, only to open them when I felt a hand settle onto my shoulder.

Phanal smiled at me gently, an old pain clear on his face.

“I am glad they agreed… for your sake. I wouldn’t wish the alternative on anyone.”

I shuddered, sobs starting to shake me.

“I was so afraid,” I said, tears falling down my face. “I thought… I thought. I didn’t. I couldn’t, but I had no choice… I had to think it, plan it. And I couldn’t tell them.”

At some point Phanal had stood and I felt him hug me, my cheek pressing against his chest.

“I know boy, I know. Having to consider it is almost as bad as actually going through with it. It was the hardest thing my god has ever asked of me.”

He stroked my hair, holding me close, as I finally let out the pain I had been holding in. He didn’t speak further.

I tried to speak as I sobbed, but not even I knew what I was trying to say. Eventually the tears dried up, my grief lanced for the moment. My tears had been for him too, that he had needed to kill his friends, even if he had never truly said so.

Somewhere, in the midst of my grief, I found a moment of stillness. I was losing Phanal, but I was glad I could share this moment with him. I would do my best to lead my people, even if it was the last thing I wanted. It would all be alright.

A quiet flame of worship and certitude burned away inside me, gradually burning through the turbulence of my other emotions.

However, it didn’t bring me more time.

I begrudged the occasional interruptions.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, and my answer to various questions usually boiled down to a ‘I don’t know.’

How permanent should we make the encampment? Would we need to move it soon? Are there areas we should avoid? Was it okay if we tapped into the water from the fountains? Should we plan out gardens here, in another spot, or get food from the dungeon? Would the dungeon provide additional areas we could expand to? Should we build up, down, outwards?

On and on the questions went.

I was grateful for what little I could answer.

Still, eventually the time came, and we walked together through the darkness.

Our footsteps whispered softly against the stone, each of us allowing the silence. I tried my best to exist in the moment, noting everything we passed. The subtle grain of the stone, the sparkling of the crystals that lined the road, the many colors of the tiny lights trapped within. Most of all, I just tried to capture the feeling of Phanal’s presence.

Other Adar reverently stood guard outside the sacrifice room, ensuring that no one came too close. I nodded to them silently as I passed. One opened the door for me, bowing.

Phanal and I proceeded inside, alone.

“I wish we could wait,” I said.

Phanal simply nodded, before responding.

“It’s better for the dungeon if we do it now.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

A title…

I did my best to simply nod back, and smile.

I moved forward to start the ritual.

I could feel that something wasn’t right. The dungeon wasn’t… here.

I pushed out mana to begin the ritual, but then I held it there. A moment later I felt the dungeon’s attention, and I began.

It was the same ritual I had performed so many times, and the words came out with little difficulty or thought. I tried my best, but some part of my heart wasn’t in it.

That didn’t stop the ritual from working, nor keep the seed pulled from my head from sprouting.

I placed my offering in the bowl, and then it sat there.

My heart froze and my mind raced.

What would I even do if the dungeon didn’t accept? I was bound to it. That bond would presumably break, but I had already been changed. Would I need to go back to the Blaze Blossom Swamp?

The bond slammed into me, firming while the small bush dissolved away.

Phanal stepped up beside me, squeezing my shoulder.

“Don’t worry about being perfect,” he said softly. “No one expects that of you. All the respect is for who you will be, eventually. Just do your best. If you make a mistake, try to do better next time.”

Phanal paused for a moment, before continuing with a more formal tone.

“Ancient Zidaun, I bid thee farewell.”

He didn’t give me a chance to reply. He stepped forward, his hand reaching for his chest. A moment later mana burst into the room again, crafting the skill book as Phanal gave himself to it.

A moment later the skill book dropped from Phanal’s dead fingers, which were positioned so that the book would fall into the bowl on the altar.

My tears flowed silently, and I knelt down beside him.

He looked broken now, his quiet intensity vanished into memory. The wrinkles on his skin stood out sharply, emphasizing his age.

Without his life, his body had quickly shown its true nature, a mere shell, the soul gone.

I cried, even as I absentmindedly, fixed the position of his body. I laid him over my lap. Tears came, but they were silent. There were no sobs, no shuddering gasps, nothing but the quiet acceptance of an end.

I had thought little of the other skill book we had sacrificed. Did that make me callous? I had been focused on Phanal, of course, but I hadn’t really wondered who had given their life to make it.

Tearing something as essential as language out, especially at high skill levels, was always fatal. Almost anything removed at high levels would be fatal. People put so much of themselves into skills they used that heavily.

If there had been even a chance that Phanal would have survived the process, I would have insisted on a healer. As it was… I wanted this moment to myself.

I let myself exist in this moment, but eventually, I pushed myself up.

Phanal had entrusted this dungeon to me, my people to me. I knew what his final words had meant. In the end, I was the Ancient One. The ruler of my people. Here, I would create another place for them to grow, to prosper.

Eventually, the dungeon would die, as they all did. Then I would die too, reborn when my dungeon reemerged. Before me lay an infinite cycle. I would always return to my people, growing wiser and stronger, forever.

That was the true meaning of being Ancient. I would never age, and should anything kill me, the dungeon would bring me back.

I wanted to shrink under the massive weight of the responsibility, but I would not allow it. For my god, myself, my people, and Phanal, I could not allow it.

I gathered Phanal into my arms, his body feeling too light.

Cradling him gently, I placed his body onto the altar.

I waited as his body slowly dissolved away, not letting myself relax. The tears came, and I endured.

When it was done I bowed to the altar.

“Teacher Phanal,” I said, my voice as firm as I could make it. “I bid you farewell.”

I exited, and the other Adar were waiting for me.

The surges of mana would have been unmistakable, and Phanal’s absence was easy to detect, but even so I needed to speak.

“It is done. We shall do the bindings here. Go and fetch the others.”

All of the guards bowed, and one spoke before he left.

“At once, Ancient One.”

Soon enough, I was standing in front of the altar once more. This time, however, it stood at my back. The obsidian dungeon core replica above the altar rose above me like the God it was.

The first Adar came into the room, and we began.

I had never needed to go through the ritual myself. Born of the blaze blossom swamp dungeon, I had been bound to it from the beginning. Instead, I had gone through a ceremony to do the reverse. My bonds had been loosened so I could go become a Seeker.

“What is your name, child?” I asked, my voice steady and solemn.

“Izradi, Ancient,” he said, his eyes fervently fixed on me.

“Do you wish to join me Izradi?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Mana began to gather in air, like a storm about to break.

“Do you wish to serve me, and the dungeon I represent?”

“Yes,” he stated again, his eyes somehow gaining even more intensity.

The mana in the air began to spiral inwards, forming a cyclone of power around the two of us. Much of my mana sense cut off from the rest of the world. Even the air started to glow, random flashes of light surrounding the two of us.

“Do you pledge your life, your mind, and soul to serve, until the end of your days?” I asked, extending my hand.

“I so pledge!” he intoned, as his own hand took mine.

The mana gathered thicker for a moment, before the world seemed to pause. Then, the balance broke, and mana slammed inward, the spiral condensing enough that all I could see was the small circle surrounded by light.

It swept into Izradi, and circled around our joined hands. Mana poured through, and I could feel a new bond forming between the two of us. Most of the power, however, went elsewhere.

Izradi screamed as the concentrated power flowed into his body. His bark-like skin melted and reformed, the old colors swept away by the new.

Ripples passed, leaving skin in shades of light reddish brown, much paler than my own skin. The veins of green were just as intense as my own, however. Like me, areas of bark condensed its former shaggy appearance into armor, but it was almost white. The thorns at the central arm and leg joints retreated out of sight, straightening from a curve as they did so.

In a short while, Izradi was kneeling on the floor in front of me. My hand was likely the only thing that held him up through the transformation.

He looked up at me, and for the first time I could see his eyes. The irises were a deep emerald green, complete with faint markings that looked like cracks. They looked like gems, more than eyes, just like my own.

I smiled at him, and helped him stand. He let go of my hand.

“Behold thyself anew,” I said, and gestured to the highly reflective crystal all around us.

He did, and his breath caught. I could see his eyes flicker as he took in his new appearance.

Finally, he turned back to me.

“My Ancient,” he said, his fervor seeming to have grown even further, “I am at your service, and the service of our God.”

He bowed low, tears forming in his eyes.

The ritual was complete, and I spoke less formally.

“Rise, please. I am sure you will do your best, and I will too,” I said.

I put my hand on his shoulder.

“Welcome. We have more to do though, send in the next,” I said.

The process continued on as I welcomed more and more. The changes on each individual were different. Some of the differences were subtle, slight defects and old scars faded. The skin changes varied heavily; they were always some shade of red brown, but that varied from a shade so dark it looked like fire obsidian, to a shade so pale it resembled the faintest pink of sunrise. The veins of green, however, were always the same vibrant hue. The eyes were the other major variation. They always looked like polished gemstones, with a depth visible beneath the surface, but the colors covered the entire spectrum.

Finally, it was done, and the last of the Adar had been tied to my soul. Through me, they linked to our God.

I had been feeling the faint pressure build for a little while now. It was time to check my notifications.