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The Waygate
Chapter 5

Chapter 5

  Caldrice stood in awe for several moments as the two drew closer to each individual spire, seeing the carving of the individual they were dedicated to. Pursing his lips, he looked to Kanreth, “You said these are called speaking stones, yes?”

  “Aye, they are.” Kanreth said gruffly.

  Caldrice smiled, “So, how do you get them to talk?”

  Kanreth grinned a toothy grin, “With wine, of course.” Snorting, he’d wave a dismissive hand, “Nobody really can aside from those of the Frostfall lineage. Adelia and Delarin are the only ones who are left of it after the Ebonshroud.”

  Caldrice tilted his head, brow furrowed, “What do you mean after the Ebonshroud?”

  Kanreth shrugged his heavy shoulders, muscular finger tracing over the near flawless masonry, “When it happened, before we knew the extent of the Shroud and what could cause it to be contracted, they had everyone who was incredibly gifted with Arcana come out to the point in which the Midland Nexus was ripped apart in an effort to repair it, but it was a case of too little too late.”

  “Too little too late? What do you mean?”

  “Well.” Kanreth sighed, rubbing his stubbled face, “Lady Illyana, the Guardian of the Midland Nexus had been afflicted with the disease, and it eventually claimed her life. When a Guardian dies, and it has happened before, there’s a short span of time that can pass before another is appointed, but it must always be someone of the same bloodline and Arcana signature.”

  “Why can’t anyone claim the seat of Guardian of a Nexus?”

  “The way it was explained to me is how their bloodline has become resilient against the powerful energy that congregates at the nexus, and as such their souls are much more tolerant against Arcana than someone who wasn’t born to a Guardian’s lineage.” Kanreth let out a gravelly hum, “Lady Illyanna had one son, but after she had died to the Shroud, it didn’t matter. Her death impacted the entire region by infecting the Nexus and causing that horrible disease to course through the leylines that stemmed through the region.”

  “So, her son was doomed from the start?”

  “He survived the ascension ritual, but the Nexus, having become a font for decay, infected him as well.” Kanreth frowned, “He was young, not even a teen whenever it happened.”

  “Why isn’t, or wasn’t, the rest of Paelmun infected then?” Caldrice asked, arms crossed as they continued to walk through the static, expressionless faces of years gone by.

  “They cut off the leylines to the region, like staunching a wound.” Kanreth said solemnly, “All of the brightest arcanists redirected the leylines that led into Midland away from it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around, “The result? It wasn’t allowed to spread, but it’s something that’s festered.”

  “And with a disease, if it’s allowed to continue without treatment, there’s bound to be a mutation.” Caldrice said, as if quoting something.

  “Yes.” Kanreth said distantly, “Yeah, that’s true.” He looked over to Caldrice, his brow furrowed, as a soft voice was carried along the whipping, howling winds. He beckoned him over, a finger over his own lips as he shoved his legs through the dense snow in the direction of it.

  Caldrice gazed up at the stony faces, marveling at how faded some of them were, but how others appeared to be the person cast into frigid blue stone. He blinked, looking around as Kanreth was gone against the blinding white sheet of snow that continued to fall. His sense of sight may be gone, but along the howling of the wind he could still hear the voice, although he was unsure which way it came from as it trailed from around each pillar.

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  Caldrice gritted his teeth against the insatiable cold, the bitterness cutting through his heavy coat as he got closer to the source of what was causing it. Slowly, he brought his hands to his mouth, blowing into them to bring some sensation back to his face before rubbing his arms for warmth. He looked around, tilting his head to the wind, no longer hearing the voice along the whipping wind.

  Quickly, panic seized him as the storm continued to intensify, and without sight of either Adelia or Kanreth, Caldrice took a deep breath – the air stinging his lungs – and shouted, “Adelia, stop this!”

  His voice echoed along the wind, bounding between pillar to pillar, and at first he was greeted with nothing more than the panicked echo of his own voice before the storm began to fade away until only a light flurry remained. At the furthest speaking stone, overseeing the town of Frostfall was Adelia, hunched over, her head resting against a stone of a woman that looked much like her, but far too old to be made in her honor. Caldrice looked around, and with Kanreth not in sight of any direction, he slowly waded through the snow over to his friend.

  “Don’t.” Adelia said, not moving or acknowledging he was there otherwise.

  “Your fath-” He began.

  “My father sent you?!” She shouted, finally rising, “Of course he did. Of course he sent someone else to check on his daughter instead of coming out from his sheltered walls to be a father.” She gritted her teeth, the fierce eldritch glow to her eyes intensifying, “Sending you of all people. That’s the biggest-” She shuddered, flinging her arm sidelong, a shard of ice flying from the center of her palm into a nearby speaking stone. The sound of a distant voice filled the air but was otherwise indistinguishable, “Insult!” Adelia finished, her intense arcane aura saturating, and activating, the speaking stones in the immediate area.

  Caldrice’s eyes darted between the various stones, and what they were saying, as Adelia continued to approach, “I’m just trying to help, Adelia. I care!”

  “Why do you care?!” She screeched, “You shouldn’t care! Everyone he sent there – my mother, brother, and sister never came back.” She stared him down, her steps becoming more labored as he backed away from her, “And now he wants to do the same to you!” Her body shook as she cackled, “My only friend, a reject without Arcana. Haven’t you ever found it strange as to why he’s always had this interest in you?”

  “He was supposed to be my caretaker.” Caldrice said, looking around as his feet continued to step away from her, his peripheral vision struggling to find a way to escape.

  “But who brought you to him? Where did you even come from?” She snarled, “For all I know you could be nothing more than an illusion, but I know that’s not true because I’d at least be able to sense an illusion.”

  He felt the cold stone press against his back as his feet had nowhere left to go. His eyes darted around frantically as she approached him.

  “No one knows where you came from, or what you are!” She shouted, stopping completely in her tracks, turning her head to the side at the sound of metal sliding from a sheath.

  “Not one more step, Frostfall Witch.” Kanreth said slowly, his cold gaze boring holes into her, “I swear, by the Maker, I will run you through if you take another step towards him.”

  Adelia’s face scrunched up, “You’re threatening me? The Erastian outcast? Don’t make me laugh.” She growled, her aura intensified as the eldritch blue completely enveloped her eyes, “I will make you regret that.”

  “Adelia, don’t-“ Caldrice began, reaching out towards her, before his arm fell limply at his side. There was only a glint as her wrist flicked a thick shard of ice towards him. His eyes locked on hers as the eldritch glow faded away, his mind racing before collapsing to the ground, his breathing coming in ragged gasps, “Don’t.” He wheezed repeatedly as his vision began to flicker and distort. He looked up, seeing the hazy form of Kanreth charging Adelia as her futile apologies fell upon deaf ears.