One of the downsides of staying inside of a mountain was that it wasn’t easy to tell when the sun was coming up. Time was mainly kept track of by a good internal clock. Unfortunately for Mattias, he didn’t really have one of those. He yawned, sitting up and stretching to get rid of the aches from being in one position for so long. Bad internal clock or not, he was familiar with the way he felt when pulling yet another all-nighter. Gods, Ingrid was going to be furious when she heard about how many he had while here. Combined with the fact that he was here in the first place, she’d be downright livid. He chuckled at the thought. She was funny when she was mad. She’d get all huffy and speak like she was talking to some high up noble. They’d laughed about it together more than a few times.

The memories made his heart ache. He missed her. Badly. If he could just figure everything out though, it would all be worth it. He’d be home with his sister, the dark elves would have their name cleared, and things could go back to normal. Maybe Ingrid could even start being open about that one girl she loved. It would be a lie to say that pissing Cecilia off wasn’t a small part of it too.

Thinking about Ingrid had put a fond smile on his face. She never let him doubt even for a moment how much she loved him and cared for him. She was his sister, through and through. He referred to her as such so he could remind her that that love went both ways. Cecilia, on the other hand, deserved absolutely nothing. His smile was quickly replaced by a scowl as he thought about that witch. After getting past the initial caution, he couldn’t have been more thankful. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he’d been given a home, a family even. It was incredible beyond his wildest dreams. Then there was Ealadha.

He and Ealadha had taken to each other quickly, the man’s kindness helping him open up his shell and start letting the others in. Without Ealadha, he certainly wouldn’t be as close as he was with Ingrid. She was far too awkward, and he too reserved and cagey to have ever made any strides towards understanding or getting to know each other. He absentmindedly wondered if he’d have even realized he was a boy without Ealadha’s help. It was the greatest gift the man had ever given him. After the Changesong, it was like everything was a brand new experience. Things that were mundane or even boring had suddenly made him so happy he could start dancing with joy. He’d never felt so at home in his own body.

When Ealadha died, he was beyond devastated. For years he felt like he was walking around with a piece of himself missing. He’d hoped he could do something to ease Cecilia’s pain. Back then, he still considered her family, the woman who took him in. Ealadha was one of the most important people in both of their lives, someone they only looked at with love and appreciation. It was different, of course, her loving him as her husband, while Mattias loved him like an older brother. He didn’t realize how much his and Binne’s deaths would break her. The depression and irritation was expected. How could he possibly blame her for that? Her downward spiral quickly became more of a whirlpool. She started taking her anger out on Ingrid, while the younger girl refused to retaliate.

She went through so much for him. Putting up with Cecilia, frantically learning noble etiquette and making poor attempts at being social, even jumping at the chance to be a Druidkeeper when Labhras spoke to her about it, despite all of the stress and responsibility that came with it. Even when things got worse and worse, she’d just smile and keep walking, regardless of how many scars or tears there were. She did so much for him. He wanted to pay some of that back. If he could do that while helping an entire species of people being targeted victims of an absurd amount of hatred? All the better. Dark elves didn’t deserve this. Ingrid didn’t deserve this. Ingrid deserved to be with the girl she loved without judgment, and dark elves deserved to be seen as actual people, not monsters.

He looked down at the notes on his lap, painstakingly translated from what was likely a several thousand year old notebook beside him. Old Khalae really had no intention of making their language easy to understand. Crossed with trying to decipher the awful handwriting of the mage who wrote it and desperately trying not to destroy the notebook by touching it with slightly too much force, he’d only managed to get through maybe a dozen or so pages. Still, he was proud of it. Moloch was a big help in pointing out some of the more difficult intricacies of the language.

His ears flicked upwards as he heard a knock on the door. “Hello?” he rasped. Okay, first thing he needed to do was get some water. He cleared his throat, speaking much clearer. “Hello?”

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” a casual voice came from behind the door as it opened, revealing Berith’s smiling face. He looked Mattias up and down. “I was about to ask if you slept well, but I think I have my answer.”

Mattias laughed, walking over to the sink and sticking his head under it to drink, wiping his mouth on his sleeve once he’d had his fill. It wasn’t cold water, but it was impressive enough that Moloch had managed to set up running water at a short term research station. Gift horses. “I was up translating the next section of this notebook. Erasmia was an incredible mage, but gods, would a penmanship class have killed her?” he felt a surge of pride as Berith laughed at his comment.

“With how haughty Moloch’s said Khaelaen’s were? Maybe. Probably would’ve seen it as beneath her or something. Anyway, you find anything good?” he asked, leaning on the door frame.

“Well… define ‘good,’ I guess,” he responded, noticing his own voice quiet down.

Berith raised an eyebrow thoughtfully, then walked in to tousle Mattias’s hair. It was just like Ingrid did. The taller man plopped himself down on the end of the boy’s cot, sighing as he did. “Good can mean anything, to be honest. I guess what I’m more curious about is if you found anything interesting. More than that, did you find what you were looking for?”

Mattias thought about it for a moment. Every single word was fascinating. In its own way though, it was horrifying. The things that Erasmia wrote about like they were common knowledge, the only word that came to mind was that they were despicable. He joined Berith on the bed, lying down. The man followed suit.

“I don’t think ‘all of it’ would be a very good answer, but it’s kind of accurate. It’s filled with magical information, applications and deconstructions, anything you can imagine. But…” he trailed off, biting his tongue.

“But?”

He took a deep breath. “But it just baffles me how they can have access to magic this powerful, and use it to do things like this. Erasmia had a specialization in her magecraft; enchantment. She wrote formulas for enslavement spells, ones detailed enough that she made notes for how to alter it depending on the target’s species. Specifications on what degree of free will the slave should have, and how to write that into the formula,” he explained, forming the various symbols on the ceiling with shadows pulled from around the room. “The part I’m in the process of translating is explaining how entire civilizations were kept in check, civilizations I’ve never even heard of or read about. It’s like there was an entire different world here before, and Khalae just… snuffed it out.”

Silence sat between them as Mattias let his hand flop down next to him. His exhaustion was finally starting to hit him, and boy did it hit like a ton of bricks. He fought the sleepiness off, forcing his eyes to stay open even as they screamed for him to rest. There would be time for that later. Talking to Berith was too much of a delight to pass up.

“That’s some heavy shit,” the man sighed. “Especially for a kid like you to be reading about. Moloch didn’t want to do that one himself?”

Mattias shook his head. “I asked for it. Literally. The lock on the journal was made of complex magic that he said would’ve taken him weeks to deconstruct. The entire city wasn’t locked down as tight as this journal, which means there’s probably something important in it,” he paused. “Or, Erasmia was paranoid and self absorbed. Honestly it could be both. But I saved him a lot of time by working the mechanism,” he looked down at the cover of the journal, the silver lock that he’d opened still shimmering with arcane energy. It looked like a small hourglass engraved into an ornate silver crest on the front of it. At the bottom, a small button that caused a needle to poke out from between the two halves of the hourglass. The containers were both full now. One half crimson with blood, his blood. The other, a swirling miasma of shadow. A two factor lock that required both Khaelaen blood, and pure magical shadow. Even blood as diluted as his was enough to open it, speaking to the sensitivity within its mechanisms and formulas.

“I asked him if he’d let me translate it,” Mattias continued. “I felt tied to it, you know? Like it was calling to me. Now though, I’m a little concerned as to why.”

Berith raised a hand up to tousle Mattias’s hair again. “Again, that’s some heavy shit. Can’t say I’m a stranger to mind magic, but it’s not like I can do any myself. I’ve always been too enthralled by alchemy and artifice to teach myself proper magecraft.”

There was a sense of pride to his words. Mattias already knew why. Amalthea was filled with great mages, as were its subterranean cities. There was a scarce few who shared Berith’s talent to create magical devices however. Even if alchemists and herbalists were far more common, the amount that could create things on the level that Berith could was near non-existent. His moving tattoos alone were ample evidence of that.

“Yeah. It is kind of heavy. It’s hard to believe I’m, you know, linked to these people.”

Berith turned to him, shifting in the bed. “Hey, I know where this is going, and let me just stop you right there,” he said confidently. “You being the thirty-seventh cousin of some Khaelaen asshole doesn’t define you. Only you can do that. The funny thing about blood is that it only defines you if you want it to.”

Mattias furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, take my sister. She wants to be an exemplar of dark elves everywhere. She takes pride in her blood, and wants others to look at her and know that. It means a lot to her because she wants it to,” he explained, staring up at his burned arm. “Then there’s me. I don’t really give a rat’s ass about what people on the street think my heritage means. Hell, a solid third of it is burnt beyond recognition anyway. I care much more about research. The world is filled with information, and even if I spent every single waking moment of my life learning everything that I could, I’d barely even scratch the surface. As depressing as that sounds, just thinking about it is exciting. It begs the question of what parts I will learn, what I can pass on. But my blood doesn’t really come into play there. It has nothing to do with who I am as a person, so it’s of no consequence to me. So, does your blood matter to you?”

It was hard to respond right away. Berith had a sister? He hadn’t mentioned it before. Someone who took pride in their heritage though, even when it was looked down upon, it sounded inspirational. Maybe that was what pushed Berith to try so hard. What about himself? He thought back on his life, everything linked to his own bloodline. It was a simple answer, really.

“I… was adopted,” he started. “I didn’t know my actual parents for very long, and my sister took me in when I was about four. I didn’t open up super quickly. I was definitely cagey, and after everything, I still wasn’t really sure that it wasn’t some ploy to sell me off to someone or something. Weirdly enough, the most comforting thing was the fact that she never tried to tell me I was wrong for thinking it. She would just… keep doing her best. Even knowing how little I trusted her, she still gave her all in trying to make me feel comfortable, feel happy. She never wanted or expected anything in return. She did it because she’s just that kind of person. It’s why I call her my sister in the first place. My brother too. It was the same thing, he tried to make me happy, did make me happy. So much happier than I ever would have been without him. Even now that he’s gone, I still don’t get sad when I think about him. All I can do is smile, think about how lucky I was to have gotten to know him, even for a short time. They’re my family, and there isn’t a drop of blood shared between us aside from the fact that we’re all elves. So… no. I don’t think my blood matters to me, because it was never what was important.”

Another long pause interrupted the conversation. Mattias couldn’t help but wonder if Berith was going through the same thought process he did. Poring over everything he knew and trying to figure out how to weave it all into sentences that made any sort of sense. Maybe Berith didn’t have that problem. Maybe he was just letting the words have their silence to let them sink in. Whichever the case, he was the one to break the silence.

“Your siblings, you love them, huh?” he said quietly.

Mattias nodded. “I do. That's why I’m here.”

“I admire the dedication. Your brother sounds like a good guy.”

A smile spread across Mattias’s face. “The best. He made everyone feel cared about. He took his time getting to know people too, just to make sure he could cheer them up on a bad day, or give them a token that reminded them someone was thinking about them,” he glanced at Berith. “It’s not one to one, but you kind of remind me of him.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Berith raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. “Do I now?”

“You do,” he looked at the ceiling, still smiling. “I don’t really know how you interact with others aside from Alviss and Moloch, but the way you interact with me is similar. You teach me stuff, you joke around, you have that same laid-back attitude, but secretly have something you’re super passionate about and could talk about for hours. For you it’s alchemy, for him, it was astronomy,” he frowned. “And Cecilia, I guess. At least one of them was good.”

The dark elf nodded slowly, a pensive look on his face. Even if Mattias couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, he certainly looked like he was slowly processing everything.

“Cecilia, who was she?”

Mattias sighed. “My sister’s older sister. I know that’s kind of strange, but it makes sense to me. They say you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family. I think that’s dumb. My family is my family because I choose to see them that way. Cecilia is not my sister. Not with the way she treats my actual sister. The only good thing she did was give me a chance to meet Ealadha.”

“Oh? What’s the story there?”

The boy scooted himself next to Berith. Being close to him like this reminded him more of Ealadha, when they’d sit next to each other on a blanket, pointing out different stars and constellations.

“Not much to tell. Ealadha and Cecilia had been married since before I met them. Hell, Cecilia was nice when I met her. I thought of her as a sister too. When Ealadha died though, all she wanted to do was be miserable and lash out. Ingrid bore the brunt of most of it. She kept practically seeking it out too, like she was trying to shield me from it. It hurt to see her struggling like that with someone she clearly cared about so much. When Ingrid started training to be a Druidkeeper, there was a bit where it seemed like things would go back to normal. Cecilia started being nicer, more lenient. It fell apart pretty quickly. Not sure what the deal was, but maybe she wanted to use Ingrid’s powers for something,” he muttered. He looked behind himself at the notebook. “Maybe she thought Ingrid was going to be her Ethys.”

Berith sat up, his brow furrowed in curiosity. “Sorry to interrupt, but you said Ethys?” he asked hesitantly. “What do you mean by that?”

“Ah, right,” he sighed, reaching for the notebook and holding it up. “Apparently, some of the species the Khaelaens dominated were more useful with free will, in their eyes. They kept them in check with nightmares, terrible ones. To do that, they used a mix of arcane and divine magic. The god they worshiped, well, ‘worshiped’ I guess, was named Ethys. She was a goddess of dreams. To them, that meant nightmares. I think there’s more to it. There has to be, I mean. The way the journal talks about her, it’s not worship. There’s no reverence or even a tiny bit of respect, it’s like Erasmia saw her as a disobedient pet. I figure I’m missing something. I’ll talk to Moloch about it.”

“Yeah, that would probably be good,” Berith said pensively. “He definitely knows a lot more about this stuff. Gods getting involved in mortal affairs is never a good thing though. They get their worship, we get the influence of their domain, it’s a good system. Hell, even the most conniving of them rarely ever touch the balance outside of giving mortals blessings. If Erasmia was as controlling of Ethys as that would imply, I think that’s what we call a red flag.”

Mattias stared down at the pages, comparing them to his translated copy. Was Old Khaelae really that involved with a god? Enough to scold it like a child when it didn’t do what they desired of it? He wondered how that must have felt, tried to empathize with it, but it was beyond his comprehension. Gods weren’t humanoid. They almost never thought or acted like a person would, their minds fundamentally different in order to remain sovereign over their respective domains. The only exceptions were patron deities, who had similar mindsets to their children, and a handful of emotional deities. The Maiden of Passing wouldn’t be able to comprehend why someone didn’t want to die, but Carys had enough of a humanoid mind to take a pair of mortal lovers. Even so, she often sent those lovers as envoys to her clerics, rather than appearing herself. The thought made him feel small. Forget how the deity must feel, what must it have felt like to be one of the only mortals in existence to know a god as a person rather than a deity? He cleared his mind when he realized Berith was staring at him expectantly.

“I guess you’re right. He mentioned that some of the information I’d find could retread old ground that he already covered, so maybe he already knew about this. It’s worth asking,” he agreed. “Oh, right, we started talking and got… very sidetracked. Did you need something? Or were you just coming in to see how I was doing?”

Berith himself looked as though he’d been reminded of something. “Ah! Right, shit, Moloch is shipping me out to do something for him, and…” he trailed off. The dark elf wasn’t always the easiest to read, but he looked genuinely conflicted as he paused. “I figured I should let you know. Believe it or not, I’ve kinda liked hanging out with you these past couple months.”

Mattias felt his heart sink. Berith was leaving? It wasn’t entirely unexpected. Moloch sent other people on errands or missions all the time. As skilled as Berith was, he figured it was only a matter of time until the alchemist was asked to do something that took him away from their research station. Still, he didn’t want him to leave. They’d grown close in the time they spent together. Berith had just begun teaching him a few alchemical tricks, a bit of combat training as well.

Looking up at the man, it was easy to see that he wasn’t exactly thrilled with the situation either. Anything that took him away from locking himself in his laboratory for days at a time doing random experiments was a nuisance as far as he was concerned. There seemed to be something else under the surface as well. He seemed almost conflicted.

“Oh,” Mattias muttered. “Um, do you know when you’ll be back?”

The older man sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “Can’t really say for sure. I’m off to Acyrgos to meet with my sister for something. She’s supposed to explain when I get there. I’ll do my best to send a message when I figure it out though if that helps.”

Mattias nodded. “Do you need a ride? With only one person, I can make it that far in a couple of minutes by daisy-chaining. Maybe I could help too?” he put out the last question as a feeler. He liked being around Berith, and wanted to stay with him. Not being able to be around Ingrid was rough, and he already couldn’t wait to give her a hug when he got home. He wouldn’t even mind whatever scolding would inevitably be coming his way. Admittedly, it was beyond deserved.

Berith shook his head. “Moloch already said he wants you to stay here. Don’t worry, Alviss is staying too, so you won’t be too lonely. We have our own means of teleportation though, even if it isn’t as good as yours. Keep working at that. Maybe someday you’ll be able to jump from here to Cordelia in one go,” he smiled, once again leaning down to tousle Mattias’s hair.

He quickly reset it, trying to get everything back into its proper place. He didn’t dislike the act though. “Alright, if you say so. But once I’m done here, and you’re done there, we can keep in touch, right?” he asked. Berith seemed surprised at the question. “Like, I’ve explained what I’m trying to do, clearing the name of your people and all that. Gods, that sounds pretentious. I really don’t want to be seen as a hero or someone trying to be a hero or anything. It just needs to be done, and no one else was doing it. I got sidetracked again. But if I can, maybe you can visit my sister and I every once in a while. You mentioned being in and out of Cordelia for a while, maybe we could have you for dinner? You, me, Alviss, Ingrid, Chimsley, Alice, if Ingrid's finally realized that they have feelings for each other, I think it would be nice.”

The man gave him a curious look, his face remaining mostly neutral. Eventually, a genuine smile appeared on his face. It wasn’t a big one, just the corner of his mouth curving upwards like he was mildly pleased with something.

“I think it would be nice too. We’ll see if she likes me enough to be okay with that,” he said almost wistfully. “As for her friend, I don’t think they’ve got too much longer before that comes to a head, going purely on what you’ve told me. Poor girl sounds lovestruck and doesn’t even know it. Keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t get themselves into trouble. Oh, and make sure Alviss actually sleeps enough too? They’ve been skipping to get work done.”

“I will, don’t worry. Dealing with people that aren’t you tends to wear them out enough that they go right to sleep after dinner,” Mattias grinned.

Berith frowned. “Speaking of. As soon as I leave this room, you better be going to bed. I’ll tell Moloch you pulled an all-nighter, but if we’re gonna have you dealing with traps, you better be doing it while rested. Last thing I need is to get back from this and hear you got vaporized or something.”

The exhaustion was starting to hit him harder. He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll take a big nap. No vaporization from me.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Berith chuckled, stepping to the door frame. He looked around the room, taking it all in like he was seeing it for the first time. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect someone like you to show up. I sure as hell didn’t expect you to be the way you are too. I’m happy you did though.”

Mattias tilted his head. He’d never heard Berith be sentimental before. Well, he did once, but that was about Alviss. Apparently some assailant had nearly stabbed them in the heart. He hoped whoever did it got what was coming to them.

“You’re a good kid, Mattias. Stay that way. You said I reminded you of your older brother. I’ve never had a younger sibling, but you make me think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. See you ‘round, kid,” he said fondly, then exited the room, gently closing the door behind him.

The silence that lingered after the door closed was near maddening. What was that all about? That was far too over dramatic for a simple goodbye. That was the kind of goodbye a person gave to someone they were never going to see again. He pushed himself to the edge of his bed, but quickly realized how much of a mistake that was. He slumped face first down onto the cot, groaning as every muscle in his body screamed in protest.

Struggling, he managed to drag himself to a position where at least his head was on his pillow. Finally succumbing to the weight of his own eyelids, he let them drift shut, shadows swirling around him and outwards to smother the magical lights in the room. Moloch and Alviss would both be around to explain why Berith was acting weird. For now, he needed to make good on his promise. It wasn’t difficult to, as the exhaustion made it clear that it wouldn’t be taking no for an answer. He was in no mood to argue with it as sleep took him.

Berith sighed, resting his back against the door. Get a grip, man. Your acting needs work, he thought as he shoved himself off of the door.

To say the kid was making strides was an understatement. Moloch had told him that any benefit gained from having him on board far outweighed the detriments of having him learn about Ethys. Berith was never going to admit it, but it was one of the rare judgment calls his teacher made that he disagreed with. Considering his status of pseudo-punishment, he wasn’t exactly in a position to argue with a decision that big, regardless of how much the orc respected his input. Adding that to the list of pieces in his mental chess game made him realize how tiring it was to plan everything. He couldn’t even imagine the kind of mental gymnastics Abaddon went through trying to coordinate every one of their groups. The best he could hope for was that the kid’s beloved sister would get to the station and set everything in motion before Mattias actually learned how the Khaelaens treated Ethys.

Get real, he scoffed. He knows how one of their Archmages treated her. He’ll probably have it within a day or two. Least I’m not the one who has to damage control that mess.

By the time he entered the room, Moloch was already finished establishing the link. He sat cross legged on the ground, eyes closed, and a seal etched in light glowing around him, and linked to another round seal. At its center was the jagged black form of the teleportation gem. Maybe it would have been easier to have Mattias give him a ride.

“Did you say your farewells? This could very well be the last time you ever see the boy,” Moloch asked. He didn’t open his eyes.

Berith nodded. “Yeah. Chatted with him a bit too. He’s making good progress, you know. Way faster than anyone else ever has.”

The orc opened one eye. “Overly sarcastic. Has he?”

“He knows about Ethys. Apparently Erasmia talked about her like a wet cat,” he joked.

Moloch nodded. “I’m not surprised, if I’m being honest. And the rest of the talk?”

“Oh don’t worry, I hammed it up. Seemed real keen on big brother figures,” Berith mused. He glanced to his right, seeing Alviss staring blankly up at him. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you or anything. You I’ll definitely be seeing again.”

Alviss gave a small bow. “I look forward to it, my Lord. Is there anything else I should prepare for your time there?”

Berith shook his head. “I think I’m all good. Lilith actually set most of it up for me on her end. Apparently, I’m replacing a guy named Xander. He and I have close enough builds that it wouldn’t draw attention. Speaking of attention,” he looked back at Moloch. “What’re you up to?”

“Checking in at the decoy the druid and her group attacked,” he said plainly. “I still had to maneuver my way in, which means that the suppressor totem was still active. It took longer than expected for them to destroy it.”

The dark elf put a hand on his hip. Telepathic communication wouldn’t be able to pass through the totem’s field, meaning that if they had any sort of check in system, they’d have been ignoring it. Definitely odd. A little stupid too. It would have gone poorly for them if they decided to sleep next to it. Not that he’d be complaining. The human and illian both packed a punch, he certainly would’ve been on board with having them as loyal guards.

“Well, that means they’re probably on their way here now. Good news, and perfect time for me to get outta dodge,” Berith joked. “Try not to miss me too much?”

“Shouldn’t be hard.” the mage said. There was a stunning lack of hesitation. Berith had to hold in an even harder laugh.

“Brutal,” he managed to say. “Well, things are coming down to the wire on this one. I’m feeling good about this though. Oh, and Alviss?” he asked as he sat down in the circle across from Moloch.

His bodyguard looked at him, same neutral expression as always. Berith smiled a little bit as he focused on the gem.

“No dying.”

Nothing more needed to be said as the gem’s magic whisked him away to Acyrgos.