Abby sought out Nat the next morning to find him in the cafeteria sampling dishes the torchbearers had learned on other worlds. Some he grimaced at; some he stole the entirety of the plate. He was stuffing his face with his most recent steal when Abby found him.
“Can we talk for a little, away from everyone else?” She asked standing in front of him.
He shoveled a couple more bites into his mouth and nodded. She led him back to her quarters and she sat on her bed. “I’m thinking of leaving here, but first I want to ask you a couple of things.” She held out Erik’s letter for him to see. Since he was with Erik the night he wrote it, he knew exactly what was in it.
“The discrepancy.” He looked at her knowingly.
“Yes, Arvendon stated he died in battle against the Rothurdian King, but that’s not true, is it?”
Nat wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a lingering taste of foreign cuisine still on his lips. He cast a discerning glance at Abby, recognizing the gravity in her eyes.
"You're right," he admitted, his expression reflecting the weight of unspoken truths. "Erik's fate wasn't sealed in a battlefield against the Rothurdian King. There's more to it, and the official account is a mask veiling a more intricate tale."
Abby's eyes bore into Nat's, seeking answers that transcended the confines of official narratives. She clenched Erik's letter in her tentacles, a tangible link to a past that refused to be obscured.
"Erik made a choice," Nat continued, choosing his words with a careful cadence. "A choice that was between possibly saving his troop or dying with them. Though I know not what happened during his time in the sanctuary the second time he ventured in, we both know the result.”
Abby's grip on the letter tightened as she absorbed Nat's revelation. Abby's brow furrowed, a cascade of thoughts swirling in her mind. "Why keep it a secret? Why the official account of a battlefield death?"
Nat sighed, a gust of otherworldly wisdom escaping with his breath. "That’s what Erik was trying to figure out. Let me tell you what I know and what really happened." Nat pulled out a book and began to read his notes. He recalled the events of Erik and his troop along a road to the Spiritbane Canopy. He told her of the campfire that night, and the revelation of where the last water spirit on the planet resided.
“So, they were sent to their deaths all to be fuel for this?” Abby scoffed and held up the necklace that had been purified by Janice. “If I remember correctly early prototypes of this were made roughly a hundred years ago, that was before High King Sevas’s time.”
Nat closed the book, his gaze steady as he met Abby's incredulous eyes. "Yes, the water spirit in the Wylde Wood was the focal point of a clandestine experiment, one that succeeded, one where the spirit maybe doing this of its own free will or coerced neither of us know. Erik and his troop, unknowing pawns in this dark game, were sent to face a destiny that had been preordained by Sevas himself."
Abby's tentacles tightened around Erik's letter, the weight of betrayal settling on her shoulders. "And Erik discovered this?" she questioned, her voice a blend of anger and sorrow.
Nat nodded solemnly. "He uncovered the truth, the sinister motive behind the mission. In the face of such a revelation, Erik faced a choice. A choice between betraying the trust of his troop or giving them an opportunity to escape. He chose the former in hopes they could live. Though I know not if that happened."
Abby's eyes bore into Nat's, a storm of emotions raging within her. "So, then the Arvendon’s high king can just say whatever he wants?"
Nat nodded, "Erik chose to stand against the machinations that sought to sacrifice him and his troop. He chose to expose the truth to someone, even if it meant becoming a renegade in the eyes of those who once hailed him as a hero. But when the leader of the country is the one who controls the information, they control the narrative. Sometimes they have more power than even I do."
A bitter taste lingered in Abby's mouth, a mix of grief for Erik's sacrifice and a seething resentment for the powers that orchestrated such a tragedy. "I can’t go after Sevas directly, is there anyone else I can start with?”
Nat nodded, “The only other person in the Arvendonian military with a narrator, General Thane.”
“Wait you put narrators with evil people?! Erik told me of the things General Thane has done.”
“Abby, I put narrators all over the world. Our abilities lead us to those we need to write about, we are blind to morality.”
“So, you all have followed murders and thieves?” she asked in disgust.
“Yes, if the individual just so happens to be that, then that is the case. Oh, wait, here, I’ve got something you should read.” He dug into his bag brought out a few slips of paper. “Read this, it’ll give you some information about him.
Abby took the papers and read them aloud. “Thane was born into poverty, raised in the harsh conditions of the slums in Arvendon. Most of the time sunlight would not find its way to the bottom of the city. The people in the slums lived in squalor, in a world where survival was a daily struggle, he quickly learned to rely on cunning, theft, and even violence to secure the necessities of life. As he grew older, his skills in deception and ruthlessness became more refined, earning him a notorious reputation in the criminal underbelly of the hive city. As a greenkeeper, Thane discovered a fascination with plant-based abilities, in fact he was great at using plants to mask his presence during his crimes.
One fateful day, as Thane engaged in a particularly audacious act of thievery, High King Sevas happened to be witness to his actions. Impressed by Thane's resourcefulness and tenacity, Sevas saw potential in the young man. Recognizing an opportunity to have a loyal enforcer with a unique set of skills, Sevas elevated Thane from the shadows of the slums to a position of power within the military.
Thane's loyalty to Sevas was unwavering. And the criminal underbelly he was once a part of were all found deceased with a month of him climbing the ranks of the military. The High King's timely intervention had not only saved him from a life of poverty but had given him purpose and a chance for a better life. Thane saw Sevas as a savior, and his gratitude evolved into unquestioning loyalty.
However, Thane's growing corruption was not solely a result of his impoverished upbringing. It was also fueled by an insatiable hunger for authority and a belief that the ends justified the means. As he rose through the military ranks, he encountered the narrator accompanying him, a being that he failed to perceive due to the narrator's dislike of him. Unaware of the narrator's presence, Thane's actions remained unchecked, and his abuses of power went unnoticed to all but the narrators.
The encounter with the water spirit heightened Thane's desire for control and dominance. His motivations became entwined with Sevas's grander schemes, and he was willing to compromise anything to achieve them. Thane's corruption deepened as he became a key player in Sevas's experiments, exploiting both magical and political power to further his own ambitions.
General Thane's story is one of a man who, given a chance at a better life, succumbed to the allure of power, corruption, and an unrelenting loyalty to a ruler who saw potential in the darkest corners of society.”
She stopped. “Do you all write in flowery language like this?” She lowered her voice, “Also, do you have anything on High King Sevas?”
Nat shook his head. “No not on me right now.”
“I guess that would have been too easy.” Abby deflated a little. “Still having information about your enemies so readily available, it kinda feels wrong. Wait you told me you didn’t know about the water spirit yet in this it talks about his experiments with it.”
“Well, I’m a little bit of a thief myself, especially when other narrators are not paying attention.”
“So he w-“
“She, this one is a good friend of mine. Actually, losing these are not the first time she had lost a narrative.” He put his hands on his hips. “Now that I think about it, she was also on the battlefield when Iverst fell…” His mind was clearly working on a problem.
“SHE was there when Erik encountered the water spirit?”
“I don’t think that’s just any old water spirit. It was ancient, and powerful. We learned from Janice it may be an ocean spirit. And what’s more,” It was his turn to lower his voice, “Something a member of Erik’s troop said comes to mind. I believe it was Smith.” He pulled another book out and read, “I quote: ‘This place feels as though it is surging with power,’ stated Smith. ‘Like a power greater than the volume of this forest, being shoved into something small.’ I think with Janice’s evidence it’s easy to piece together that yes this is an ocean spirit. One with a grudge. And yes she was there.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“We need to go to the Wylde Wood Sanctuary, then.” Abby, filled with determination rose from her bed ready to leave right then and there; however, she stopped at the door. “Before we leave, I’ll at least say goodbye and thank these weirdos who hang out in a volcano.”
Abby took a moment to compose herself before she stepped out of her quarters, Nat following closely behind. The corridors of the facility were quiet, and the distant hum of machinery echoed through the metal walls.
As they approached the entrance to the volcano, Abby hesitated for a moment. She glanced at Nat, a mix of determination and gratitude in her eyes. "Thanks for telling me the truth, Nat. It means a lot. Now, let's face the Grand Firespeaker."
With a deep breath, Abby pushed open the heavy door leading to the volcanic chamber. The warmth from the lava below enveloped them, and the ambient glow illuminated the eclectic group of individuals scattered around the cavern.
Abby spotted Carl, her mentor and teacher, engaged in a discussion with a few other Torchbearers. She walked over to him, and a smile played on Carl's face as he noticed her approach.
"Abby! What brings you here?" Carl asked, genuine warmth in his voice.
Abby, wrapped in a mixture of gratitude and sorrow, adjusted on her tentacles before responding. "Hey, Carl. I came to express my deepest gratitude and to bid you all farewell. The recent events with Janice have left my mind in a whirl, and I believe it's time for me to step away from the Torchbearers."
Carl's expression shifted to one of understanding. "Ah, I see. The call of destiny, no doubt. Remember, Abby, you carry the light of knowledge within you. May your journey be illuminated by it."
"I appreciate everything you've taught me," Abby said, a sense of nostalgia creeping in. "I'll miss being part of this... strange family."
Carl chuckled, placing a hand on Abby's shoulder. "We'll miss you too, Abby. But remember, the Torchbearers are always connected, even if our paths diverge. If you ever need guidance, the flames of knowledge are ever burning. Plus being an honorary member means you are free to come and go as you please."
Abby started to turn away but paused, a lingering question on her mind. "One thing's been bugging me—how did you know about the funeral?"
Carl smiled gently. "Ah, I was informed by King Alastair himself. He makes visits to this volcano once every other month or so. In fact, he recently departed. Were you not aware that he was here?"
Abby's eyes widened in surprise. "King Alastair was here? No, I had no idea. Why would the king come here?"
Carl chuckled softly. "Well, you see, our little volcanic abode houses not just scholars and torchbearers, but occasionally, it serves as a sanctuary for those seeking knowledge and counsel. King Alastair values the wisdom found here and often seeks guidance. He passes knowledge of the outside world and shares it with us. He attends the funerals in his kingdom when he can to pay respects and seek insights into matters concerning the kingdom."
Abby nodded, absorbing the information provided. "I guess there's more to this volcano, kingdom, and king than meets the eye."
"Indeed," Carl agreed. "Now, as you embark on your journey, remember that knowledge is a torch that can guide you through even the darkest realms. Take care, Abby, and may your path be filled with enlightenment."
As Abby and Carl shared a heartfelt farewell, Nat remained unseen and unheard by those around them. The Grand Firespeaker's fiery presence continued to watch over the chamber, its silent wisdom embracing the departure of one Torchbearer and the unfolding journey that awaited Abby in the Wylde Wood Sanctuary. After bidding farewell to Carl and the Torchbearers, Abby, filled with a renewed sense of purpose, and Nat made their way through the winding corridors of the facility. The distant echoes of conversations and the rhythmic hum of machinery slowly faded as they reached the exit. With a final nod, Abby turned away, a mixture of emotions in her heart. As the heavy door swung open, a blast of cool, crisp air greeted them. The contrast with the volcanic warmth within was invigorating. Abby took a moment to absorb the surroundings, the towering peaks of the mountains surrounding them, and the distant landscapes stretching out below.
"So, Wylde Wood Sanctuary, right?" Abby said, turning to Nat, who nodded in confirmation.
"Yes, the heart of ancient mysteries and the dwelling place of powerful spirits. But first, we have a task at hand," Nat replied, his favorite pen shimmering in the natural light.
Abby furrowed her brow in curiosity. "What's that?"
As she and Nat made their way down the mountain, the glass campsite stood as a silent testimony to their time with the Torchbearers, and the distant peaks of Arvendon beckoned, promising a new chapter in Abby's quest for truth. Nat gestured toward the glass campsite they had left behind during their arrival. The remnants of their stay were scattered around, an unintentional mark on the pristine mountain landscape. Under the soft glow of the morning sun, Abby and Nat embarked on the task of restoring order to the campsite they had briefly called home. Nature had generously provided them with a picturesque setting, and Nat's suggestion to clean up after themselves resonated with the ethos of the Torchbearers. Abby admired the subtle responsibility in his tone, recognizing the importance of leaving no trace behind.
With a smirk, Abby joined in the effort, and together, they meticulously gathered every item, ensuring that no remnants of their presence lingered. The once-scattered belongings found their way back into backpacks, and the remnants of the campfire were carefully buried, allowing the natural beauty of the surroundings to reclaim its dominance. The air was filled with a sense of accomplishment as the duo stood amidst the now-pristine clearing. Abby's gaze lingered on the rejuvenated campsite, appreciating the harmonious blend of the man-made and the untouched wilderness. It was a small act, but one that echoed the Torchbearers' commitment to respecting the sanctity of the environments they encountered.As Abby shouldered her backpack, the weight of the journey ahead felt more purposeful. The glass campsite, once a temporary haven, now stood as a testament to their fleeting presence, a reminder that they had embraced their responsibility to the world around them.
"Alright, Nat. To Arvendon and then to the Wylde Wood Sanctuary," Abby declared, her voice carrying a determined cadence. Her eyes gleamed with a fervent resolve, mirroring the unwavering flame that the Torchbearers carried within.
Nat, the specter like companion, offered a smile that gave Abby a hint at what he was thinking.
“You’re hoping for more hippo-bear encounters, aren’t you?” Abby spoke with narrowing eyes.
Nat's response was a mere shake of the head, a silent contradiction to Abby's perspective. Yet, in the depths of his eyes, a flicker of surprise betrayed the realization that she had accurately deciphered his thoughts. The unspoken connection between them resonated in that shared moment of understanding. As they continued their journey, Nat's playful hope for encountering more hippo-bears served as a whimsical reminder of the unpredictable encounters they had faced together. It was a nod to the extraordinary and the magical, a celebration of the peculiar moments that had shaped their quest.
Following the dirt path, they retraced the footsteps imprinted during the nocturnal chaos of hippo-bear encounters. The daylight hours, in stark contrast to the previous nighttime romp through the forest, offered a clearer view and eased their passage through the forest. The once narrow dirt trail evolved into a well-kept graveled path, a testament to the deliberate efforts to maintain connectivity within the dense wilderness. The forest, with its ever-encroaching density, seemed to react to their intrusion. Trees loomed taller and more imposing, their branches intertwining like guardians warning against deviation from the designated path. The air itself carried an unspoken threat, as if the forest sought to deter any wanderer who dared to venture beyond the confines of the established route.
The graveled path, now a lifeline through the heart of the formidable woods, offered a degree of reassurance. Yet, the looming presence of the densely packed trees and the eerie silence beneath their leafy canopy hinted at the potential dangers that lay concealed within the confines of the forest. Potential dangers that Abby and Nat knew all too well as hippo-bears were formidable foes at night. As Abby and Nat traversed the graveled path through the dense hippo-bear forest, the air seemed charged with an eerie stillness. The towering trees loomed overhead, their branches entwining like skeletal fingers against the gray sky. The forest, once a haven for hippo-bears, now felt alive with an unseen energy.
Nat, as always, remained a spectral-like observer, silent and unseen by the creatures that might lurk nearby. His presence was a constant reminder of the narratives being written; the stories being documented. Abby, attuned to the subtle shifts in the environment, felt a tingling sensation crawling up her spine. She paused, sensing a disturbance in the air. The forest seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the imminent arrival of something otherworldly. Without warning, the unseen monsters descended from the dense foliage above. Small, mischievous creatures with web-like attributes, they swarmed in a synchronized dance, their tiny forms darting between the trees. Abby, recognizing the potential threat, clenched the bag of sand at her side.
"Abby, be cautious," Nat's voice, a faint whisper, carried a warning. "Gobwebs are known for their tricks. They might be planning something."
Abby nodded, her eyes narrowing as she observed the swarm closing in. With a swift motion, she retrieved the bag of sand, the grains cascading through her tentacles like liquid silk. The magic within her awakened, and she focused on each grain, superheating them until they glowed like molten embers.
As the monsters drew near, Abby swung the bag in a wide arc, releasing a shower of molten glass projectiles. The projectiles splattered against the monsters, creating dazzling explosions of light and sound. The creatures, caught off guard, recoiled from the scalding impact. Yet, the Gobwebs were resilient. Undeterred, they regrouped, their tiny eyes gleaming with mischief. Abby, determined to protect herself and Nat, summoned the power within her eight tentacles. With a swift, coordinated movement, she unleashed eight balls of fire, each streaking through the air with deadly accuracy.
The forest echoed with the crackling of flames and the sizzling of molten glass as the creatures scattered, their once-coordinated swarm now a chaotic dance of survival. Abby's movements were fluid, a dance of elemental power as she defended against the otherworldly onslaught. Nat, ever the silent chronicler, recorded the events with a shimmering pen, the ink flowing like ethereal threads onto the parchment. His spectral-like form watched with keen interest as Abby, a former torchbearer in training of both knowledge and elemental abilities, held her ground. As the last of the monsters retreated, the forest returned to its eerie stillness.
Abby, breathless but unyielding, turned to Nat. "Are they gone?"
Nat nodded, the essence of his being resonating with a quiet acknowledgment. "For now. Gobwebs are mischievous, but they rarely press further once their pranks are thwarted."
Abby exhaled, the tension in her shoulders releasing. "Let's keep moving. The Wylde Wood Sanctuary awaits."
With Nat at her side, the duo resumed their journey through the ancient forest, leaving behind the splattered remnants of the gobweb encounter.
As they walked by a pond Abby caught a glace at her face. She looked exhausted with bags under her eyes and had foliage and webbing in every conceivable pace it could be in.
“Really!? Again!?”