I froze in surprise, caught off guard. It wasn’t exactly a dire secret that I was a Precursor, but I didn’t go around shouting it from the rooftops. How did this guy know? I hadn’t felt him use Observe on me, and even if he did I always had my Status veiled with Hidden Amidst the Spheres. If anyone actually tried to Observe me, it would just say that I was a bog-standard Veredenese human.

A moment later, I cursed myself mentally. If he had been fishing for confirmation, my reaction would have provided it.

The Elder didn’t act smug though. He just stowed his pipe in his leaf-woven robe and stepped off the guest hall’s porch. “Come with me,” He said, with a glance over his shoulder. “I promise you’re in no danger here, young man.”

He started walking away, while I just watched his back in confusion. I was startled, however, when I felt something brush against my leg. I looked down just in time to watch as a Fade trotted away after the Elder, beneath the boughs of this alien town.

Guess I had no choice now.

I followed him, after one last look at the hall behind me.

I’d…probably be fine.

The Elder led Fade and I through the winding paths of Sancthaven for the next few minutes. During that time, we walked in silence. I didn’t know what to say to this guy, and he seemed inclined to keep his mouth shut either way. Eventually, we seemed to have passed beyond the limits of the town. Before us, there was only open forest. And not the kind that looked to be a building.

Before I could even ask why we were out here, the Elder gestured to a nearby pile of leaves on the forest floor. I sensed the barest pulse of Mana flow from his hand.

They shivered, and sprouted legs and claws. I jumped, but the Elder didn’t seem to be worried at all. Looking closer, I could tell that those weren’t leaves at all. They looked to be some kind of insect to my eyes. They were small and looked like a mix of a praying mantis and a grasshopper, with a back shell that resembled foliage. There must be hundreds or thousands of them alone in that bed, all of which were even now scurrying away.

I threw out an Observe at one of them out of curiosity.

Name:

N/A Age:

7 years Species:

Foliathoptera

Wait, I had only seen an Observe result like that once, without a listing of either level or abilities. Did that mean these insects were Mystic Beasts like Fade?

I nearly couldn’t believe my eyes when the bug I had used Observe on stopped in place and turned to face me. It…almost looked like it was giving me a dirty look, with its compound eyes. The insect made an almost dismissive gesture with its serrated claws, and then turned back around to scurry after its hive.

I guess…it had felt the Observe? Sorry.

“Try not to antagonize the Folia,” I heard the Elder say. When I turned to face him, I got the impression he was amused, despite not being able to see his face. “This is as much their forest as it is mine. Either way, we’ve reached our destination.” He gestured with a free hand at the ground the Folia hive had been resting on.

There was a wooden door set into the forest floor. It almost looked like a cellar, to me.

The Elder approached it and dug out an iron ring attached to the surface. Nonchalantly, he heaved upward with one arm, sending the doors creaking open and disturbing the soil resting on top. A yawning portal with wooden steps leading downwards greeted my eyes.

The Elder conjured a small ball of white light in one of his hands and stepped into the darkness of the revealed tunnel.

I followed, with Fade close at my heels.

The trip down the tunnel wasn’t as long as the one to reach it, but we still traveled in darkness for several minutes. Eventually, we reached the bottom of the stairs, opening up into a small, strange room.

It was maybe about thirty square feet in size, with the walls seeming to be made of twisting roots. Attached to those walls with wax were hundreds of strips of paper, inked with odd runes in a syntax I wasn’t familiar with. The entire room, ceiling to floor, was covered in them leaving only a small cobblestone walkway that led to the centerpiece of the room.

It was an intricately forged metal statue of a male figure, staring out in the distance with an eager smile on his handsome features. Slung over the man’s unarmored figure was a bow and quiver, while he held a spear in his right hand, the butt of it resting on the plinth of the statue. In the dim light of the Elder’s skill, I could see it gleam in a familiar way.

The entire thing was made from Mithril just like Sylvia was. Except this wasn’t a Sculpted, or even a statue of one. No, as the light glinted off the statue, I could tell what species the man was based on one, tiny detail.

His long, pointed ears.

This was a statue of an Elf.

It hit me then, just where I had seen a similar mask to the one the Elder was wearing. The Elves that had captured me shortly after my arrival on Vereden had been wearing similarly carved masks, even if theirs had depicted wolves.

Suddenly wary, I took a step back towards the stairs. Without even turning to face me, the Elder snorted. “I told you that you weren’t in any danger, boy,” He said, not turning away from staring at the statue to face me. “I’m not in the habit of lying.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

I eyed his turned back. “I’m guessing there are a pair of pointy ears under that hood,” I said to him, still wary. I flicked my eyes down at Fade, to see that he was perfectly calm and gazing at the statue as well.

The Elder snorted, finally turning to face me. He flicked his hand, causing the light held in it to fly out and rest in a previously hidden sconce on the ceiling. “Don’t bother stating the obvious,” He said, reaching up to lower said hood. As it went down, my suspicions were confirmed.

First, his long, thin, unbound white hair was revealed. Then, jutting out from the side of the Elder’s head were a pair of long, sharp ears. Dagger thin and reaching several inches into the open air, the bladed half pointed downward in a familiar way.

He left his mask on, however.

I took a deep breath, which the Elder noticed. He sighed behind his mask. “I’m guessing you’ve had an encounter with our more bestial cousins,” He said wearily.

I let out a heavy breath. “Encounter. Yeah, you could say that.”

They had only sold me into slavery, after all. No big deal.

“Does Grey know?” I asked him, still not willing to let down my guard.

“He does,” The Elder nodded. “As does the Firebird. I met them many years ago, when they were not much older than you. At the time, they were introduced in much the same way as you were.”

As in, not much at all?

“Okay. Alright,” I said, willing to extend the slightest amount of trust. “Then…what did you want? Why am I here?”

“To explain a few things to you, Precursor,” He said, gesturing to the statue. “Do you know who this is?”

“If you know I’m a Precursor, then you know I don’t,” I said, frustrated. “How do you even know I’m a Precursor, anyway?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” The Elder said, ignoring my question. “Depending on what young Greycton has taught you, what would you call the downfall of the Elven civilization?”

Well, Grey hadn’t actually taught me much about Elves. What I knew about them came from Azarus. Either way, the only thing I could guess was…

“That’s the Mad God?” I asked confused. The guy that the statue was depicting didn’t seem like an insane, rabid animal to me.

“No, in fact. This is Fynneas, Elven God of ‘Freedom’,” The Elder said calmly. “His likeness captured at the peak of his power in solid Mithril, far before the War in Heaven. At the time this was made, he was far from being any kind of ‘Mad God’, as you call him.”

Oh. Yeah, Azarus had told me that. He apparently came back from the War messed up.

“I mean, this is interesting,” I said. “But what does it have to do with me?”

The Elder hummed. “I’ll get to that. But first, how old do you expect I am, young man?”

“As dirt,” I said bluntly, getting frustrated. I got enough of this kind of mysterious old man act from Grey. I didn’t need it from this guy as well.

The Elder outright laughed. “Well, not quite that old. But, old enough to have known Fynneas in his prime. I suspect I’m one of the last few people, if not the last mortal on Vereden, to have been born before the War. In that time, I created this haven as a shield from his influence. Over those ages, I managed to free enough of my people from Fynneas’s influence to create a community. Free from his lust for blood and death and suffering.”

He was born before the War? Before the Initialization, and the coming of the System?

But that would make this guy nearly three millennia old, nearly three times Grey’s age…

No wonder Grey called him Elder.

“I…didn’t see anyone else out there, though,” I said, confused. “I haven’t the entire time I’ve been here.”

“That’s on purpose,” The Elder said, unfazed. “We’re well aware of how hated and feared Elves are in the world outside. We have no wish to inform the rulers of this continent as to our presence. Thus, my people hide in their homes while you and yours walk within our walls. One curious person using Observe on them would out the secret, and we cannot know how that person would react.”

“And that’s not a concern with you?”

“It is not,” The Elder said with finality.

I dropped it.

“Your kind are not a new occurrence,” He told me, moving on. “They used to be something of a menace, to be truthful. It was common for a new Precursor to manifest several times a century, according to the old histories as well as my own observations. Always, they would possess strange and powerful abilities. Some were benevolent, and would be looked upon favorably by history. Some would not be. Drunk on their own unique strengths, they would become conquerors and ravage across the face of Vereden. It was a problem that none of the other worlds, long lost to us, had to contend with. In the time before the System, Precursors were greatly feared by the common people. We could never know if the next would present an open palm, or a fist.”

I was quiet. Some of this I hadn’t heard before.

“However, since the advent of the System, your kind have become both rarer, and different,” The Elder continued. “Precursor abilities have become milder over time, and attached to a Status where before they were intrinsic to your kind. As well, we used to expect multiple Precursors a century, and that pace gradually slowed. First, it was only one a century. Then, it was one every few. Now, with you, I believe you are the first of your kind to step foot on Vereden in nearly five hundred years.”

I furrowed my brow in thought. That reminded me of the list I had found in the servers beneath Hollow Hill that had included my name. I racked my brain, trying to recall the name above mine. “Zheng Wei?” I asked, finally remembering.

The Elder’s scalp moved as if his brow had raised in surprise. “I’m surprised you know that name. Yes, the last Precursor of note was a man by the name of Zheng Wei. He would become known as Wei the Righteous, and go on to reform the Church of the Gyre into the institution it is today. In fact, he was responsible for the invention of a treatment I suspect you’re looking forward to.” He nodded at the empty sleeve of my left arm.

Oh.

“Do you…know how to do that?” I asked tentatively. “I asked Honoka if she could regrow my arm, and she said no.”

The Elder shook his head, to my disappointment. “I’m afraid that the method used requires the specific Classes painstakingly pioneered by the Church. It’s not a matter of refusal, or even a lack of the required reagents. The regeneration of limbs is simply something that is exclusive to the Church due to their unique relationship with the System.”

Damn. It was worth a try.

“All that is interesting, I guess,” I said, deflated. “I appreciate the history lesson, but-”

“But again, what does it have to do with you?” The Elder said pointedly. “Well, it’s because I wished to share with you a common suspicion that was held in the old days. It has to do with the purpose of the Precursors, after all.”

I felt a bolt of lightning run down my spine. Purpose?

“You see, it was noted in ancient documents that many Precursors spoke of having a purpose when interrogated,” The Elder said. “It is said that at all times, they would have a small, blue indicator in the corner of their eye. If they focused on it, they could expand that mark into what they called a ‘Quest’. Quite a curious similarity to see, in an age before the System…”

My lips parted. I didn’t have anything like that. “What did the quest tell them to do?” I breathed.

“Nearly without fail, these ancient Precursors would gather strength and influence in the manner they saw fit, and then strike against the target their quest told them to.”

“The Gods.”