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The World of Strife
Chapter 59. The Elden Orchard

Chapter 59. The Elden Orchard

We have been led inside the mansion while listening to the friendly banter between Ariawyn and Dalorsaer. It was quite a surprise to find out that they were old friends of some sort. I only listened to them speaking with half an ear, though, as my attention was more focused on the inside of the mansion.

There were many portraits covering the corridors made of dwarven figures clothed in armor or sometimes in celebratory clothing. The general style of the house and its furnishings were surprisingly minimalistic. Evidently, they were more focused on functionality and long-term usage. The tables, chairs and cabinets were made to be robust and held little to no unnecessary flourish. Most of those things were made with metals, but I could spot the occasional wardrobe or table that were made of wood.

That in itself was a telltale sign of the true wealth and influence the Dimhollow house held. Wood in general, but items made of it were definite signs of luxury in the dwarven realms. The reason for that came from the obvious lack of trees growing underground. Aside from the obvious, the sheer chore of bringing such items here was on its own a considerable feat. Not even mentioning the fact that the wood elves that lived in the forests at the feet of the mountain were extremely protective of their woods. Meaning, that if one wanted to purchase such items, they either needed to buy them from the elves for ridiculous prices, or they had to visit another kingdom.

Well, at least if they didn’t want to risk ending up with an arrow or several stuck in their back while attempting to illegally cut down trees.

We have been led to a well furnished and considerably more decorated room compared to the corridors and the ones that we walked by on our way here. It was most likely a room purposed to welcome guests.

Dalorsaer offered us some of the seats in the room, while he himself took a free sofa that was placed around a round wooden table. We accepted the seats without protest, since we were quite tired from the long road and all the excitement of seeing the city’s different layers.

I felt Camilla’s presence as she gently tugged her own seat closer to mine. The girl excitedly leaned over to me while whispering into my right ear. It was making me feel slightly embarrassed while at the same time also a little envious about how touchy and freewheeling this girl was when she was not depressed. None the less, I listened to her words. — “I can’t believe that we are here, Lora. I mean, look at this place, it’s the real deal! I bet this very table is worth more than an entire year’s worth of my savings in the adventurer guild.”

I offered her a smile while getting a second look at said table. Was it really that pricy? It didn’t seem anything special to me; I mean, aside from the fact that it was made from wood. I decided to whisper back to her that very question. — “Is it really so pricy? I mean, it doesn’t look anything special.”

Camilla snickered at that, while happily providing an explanation. — “You are not very observant, then. Especially not for a witch.” — She teased with a satisfied smirk. — “Reach out towards it with your inner eye. Well, at least that was what one of my magic tutor liked to tell me.”

Just how many magic tutors did this girl had? I wondered, but knew better than to ask such a thing.

I turned back to the table with a raised eyebrow instead, then I sneaked a careful glance towards Aria, noticing that both she and Dalorsaer were still lost in their own world. Talking about old stories and consistently repeating hundreds of names that didn’t tell anything particularly interesting to me or Camilla, since we had absolutely no idea who those people were. What I have managed to understand from halfheartedly listening to their banter was that, that in the distant past the both of them have been adventuring together, traveling on the surface to achieve some secret mission, but they have agilely danced around any mention of what the goal of their mission was.

Realizing that no, I will probably not hear anything useful from them, I turned back to the table and just as Camilla said, gently reached out with my magic towards it.

The sensation was spectacular. The table seemed to channel my magic almost as easily as my staff did. I turned back to Camilla with a questioning look, and she leaned even closer to me while whispering into my ear conspiratorially.

“These are made with enchanted trees. An acquaintance of mine told me all about them. They are the same material that mages use to create magical focuses. Making tables out of them is considered almost blasphemous by magic casters. Still, it is hard to deny that anything made from enchanted wood will be incredibly tough and naturally long lasting. Also ridiculously pricy, meaning that I wasn’t exaggerating when I said this table was likely worth more than my yearly savings.”

I nodded to that with new understanding.

“Ah, young ladies, please forgive our antics.” — Dalorsaer’s lively words brought our attention back to the ongoing conversation. — “It was such an unexpected meeting among old friends, we got lost while revisiting some old memories. Please accept a few drinks as an apology for leaving you out of the conversation.”

With that said, the man stood up and walked over to a nearby cabinet, from where he pulled out a tray of empty crystal glasses. He walked over and gave each of us a beautifully crafted glass. Mine even had a winged dragon carved into its surface, with superb craftmanship. While the man headed back to the same cabinet, Camilla took the opportunity to show me her glass. It had the carved image of a griff. It was indeed a sight to see. She was almost squealing into my ears with all the excitement she was feeling.

It must have been different, to live in this city for years, while never being allowed into the vicinity of the nobles district, then suddenly being welcomed in one of those prestigious noble houses. I could hardly blame the girl for her honest excitement. While on my part, I was mostly feeling numb to it.

Aside from the glitter of gold and various gems and arts, nothing that I have seen could truly compare to the convenience of my modern lifestyle back on Earth. Of course, I am hardly complaining, and I definitely do not miss the hospital, but regarding regular everyday life, I did miss some of those aspects. Like my music compilation, my washing-machine, the opportunity to watch movies and play games, however ridiculous that sounded in my current situation.

It seems the knowledge and ability to cast actual magic doesn’t replace all the modern world’s conveniences and entertainments. It merely adds onto them as another way of enjoyment or release of stress. I mean, I shouldn’t be that surprised by that, in all honesty. Back on Earth, people still played football and basketball games among all sorts of video-games on the computer even if they could do it in real life.

Above all those things, now that I was no more in a life-threatening situation, and maybe because of the particular circumstances, I find myself thinking about my family. The one that I left behind.

It hurt to be thinking about them, about my daughter, and my sweet-sweet granddaughter. What would they think if they saw me like this, in such an unusual situation? Would they tell me to embrace my new life, to move on, or…? That said… I wonder if my wife, who have passed away before me, have encountered a similar fate? Was she turned into the opposite gender as well? I wondered silently once again about that idea, attempting to imagine her with a mustache or a beard still left me quite conflicted…

While succumbed to my momentary musings, I didn’t notice when the dwarven man… I guess I should consider referring to him as great-grandfather have came over with a bottle of some kind. What I noticed, however, was the half filled glass of red liquid placed in front of me. Its cherry like color felt quite tantalizing to my eyes, and so I lifted the glass to take in its aroma.

My eyes widened lightly when I took in the somewhat familiar scent. It was something like a Rosée, but a touch more sweet. I tilted it to my lips and took a taste. It was indeed quite similar, but it surprisingly left a spicy aftertaste. It was an overall pleasant experience though, and it definitely had more kick to it than you would expect, at least based on the sense of warmth that traveled across my body.

Camilla seemed to enjoy it too, which was evident from her rosy cheeks. On the other hand, Aria had an expression of recognition crossing her face. Then she too tasted the drink, a soft sigh leaving her lips after she placed the half emptied glass back to the table.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I can hardly believe it.” — She began. — “You have managed to acquire a glass of wine made in the Elden Orchards. To be offered with such a treat, it demands a gift equal in proportions.“ — Aria started, but she was put down with a dwarfish grunt.

“Ah, for the love of the Guardians, can’t you put aside your elven politics and enjoy a drink with an old friend? Look at me, woman! Who else am I going to drink this with? I am old. Most who still remember are either dead or insufferable. Sometimes, reminiscing about the good old days is worth more than any treasure. Just as the dwarven saying goes, a splendid company demands an excellent drink. Either way, dwarfs usually don’t like sophisticated drinks like this. It would have been a waste to offer them.”

Ariawyn seemed conflicted at first, but eventually she nodded, accepting the glass with a warm and grateful smile. — “I have missed this taste, more than I care to admit.” — She said after taking another, this time, measured sip.

The dwarf across the table grunted in accordance. — “A damn shame it was. What happened there…”

I was quite intrigued by the way they were talking about the wine, and decided to ask about it.

“Did something happen to the orchard?” — I asked with a curious undertone.

Both elf and dwarf looked at me with incredulous surprise, while Camilla remained just as clueless as I was.

The dwarf frustratedly glared at me and Camilla before saying in an annoyed tone. — “I swear one would think these young ones spent the last century in a cave.”

Camilla seemed to smile at that, her previous anxiousness already forgotten, none small part thanks to the strong wine, which she has already devoured. I noted while sparing a glance at her emptied glass still clutched tightly in her scarred hands. — “Ehe-he… like you are… one to talk about living in a cave!” — She giggled like a schoolgirl, ignoring the glare from the dwarf.

Eventually, the man dropped his glare, and started to shook his head with a bit of amusement, then added almost defensively. — “It was, but a figure of speech.” — He said, while discreetly taking the rest of the wine bottle from the table and placing it back into the cabinet.

I took a long look at Camilla, whose cheeks were quite red at this point. Well… no surprise there. We didn’t eat anything in half a day. It was no shock that the wine went straight to her head. Especially with the nervous speed with which she gulped it down.

It seemed that Dalorsaer also came to the same conclusion as he spoke up with a nonchalant voice. — “Ah, but where are my manners… You must be famished from your journey, which was quite dangerous if the state of your clothes are any suggestion. Allow me to bring you something to eat. I will just head over to the kitchen.”

I was surprised by this, wondering if they didn’t have any servants or maids here. Still, it didn’t feel right to ask that question, therefore I wrote it off to the list of things I intended to ask from Emrum later.

While Dalorsaer was doubtlessly heading towards the kitchen, Aria was staring at the remaining wine at the bottom of her glass. Then she started speaking, with a distant look in her eyes. — “The reason we cannot drink this wine anymore, at least aside from special occasions, is because it’s no longer made. The Elden Orchards were destroyed, burned to the ground and tainted with dark magic, so its soil will never nurture life again. It was taken from us by one of the most vile beings to ever walk the surface of Rixa. A lich.”

That word seemed to startle Camilla out of her drunken daze. Her face snapped towards Aria, a horrified expression plastered over it. — “Are you saying that liches are real? I-I thought they were mere legends…”

Aria chuckled drily at the girl’s reaction. — “I wish they were just that, an ill-fated legend… But no, while incredibly rare… they do exist. For what evil god has conceived such madness, I cannot tell, for they taint all that they touch, and bring calamity where they set foot. Bringing legions of undead along their path centered on them like a swarm of all-consuming locusts. Their thirst for power can be only rivaled with their hate for the living. They are born from the most powerful of mages, who have willingly cast aside everything that ties them to life, while feeling deep revulsion to life itself. So they may become dead while still being alive. In service of some unknown Dark God.”

“Such feral beasts!” — Camilla hissed, visibly disturbed by the very idea.

Aria, however, looked up at her with a serious expression. — “Do not make that mistake. We have made that mistake once… you shall not make that mistake again!” — She hissed at the girl, who was quite taken aback by those words. — “Liches are no mere beasts, nor should you confuse them with leeches. While both are dangerous, the latter will only rob you of your magic, while generally leaving your life intact. Liches, on the other hand, have all the intelligence and knowledge of a grand mage that shares the cruelty of the undead, while simultaneously commanding legions of those very undead. They are more dangerous than any beast could ever dream of becoming.”

“I-I..I won’t…” — Camilla admitted quickly, under the cold gaze of Aria.

Aria nodded to that, letting some of the heavy atmosphere lift from the table. — “Truth is… it is not always easy to tell apart a lich from a human, or other intelligent races, solely based on their appearance. While some of them might look like ghostly figures, skeletons or other undead abominations. It is not necessarily the case. There have been recordings about liches that preferred to masquerade as mortals, wearing their skin like clothes over their skeletal body. Some of them have preferred to find ways to preserve their original one. What truly matters is to know that no matter how they look or how they act, they are not people. They are monsters. They have no concepts of pity or mercy. Never forget this, but I will say no more, not now at least.”

There was a heavy atmosphere left behind those words, one that I felt the need to break as quickly as possible. — “I wonder… uhm… can’t you make this wine somewhere else? I mean, even if you lost the receipt, until you have the wine itself, it should be possible to recreate it close enough, no?”

Aria actually smiled at that, as she started explaining once again.

“Oh, no. We have the receipt, and it will be remade in the future. That is, without doubt.” — There was a strange fragility mirrored in the elf’s blue eyes, one that reminded me to the one I saw on her after I managed to heal her mortal wound.

I was confused by this, but still decided to give voice to my thoughts. — “Then it is not that much of a problem, isn’t it?”

I heard the familiar voice of Dalorsaer appearing from the corridor with an enormous tray of various foods, made up from mostly meat and mushrooms with a large helping of a familiar blueish-green moss. Isn’t that the one that grows in the garden?

“I am afraid that it will be too late for us by then.” — He placed down the tray with a loud clatter, then he refocused his gaze on me.

“The Elden Orchard’s soil was saturated with elven magic for over two thousands years. It was a unique environment that allowed the plants to grow in a special way, becoming mana rich in the process and giving them a spicy aftertaste. The raw taste of undistilled mana.”

I perked up at the mention of that strange, uncharacteristic aftertaste which I myself noticed while struggling to tie it to the rest of the drink’s proportions.

Dalorsaer continued in the meantime. — “You see, this drink is essentially a mana potion and a luxury wine at the same time… Still, above all of that, the orchard was a symbol of unity among the sophisticated races. It was created after the defeat of the dark ones and their following exile to the cursed lands. Its loss was… more of a symbolic one, a blow to our morale and sense of unity. Recreating it would take several generations of elven lives, not even mentioning any other races.” — He squinted his eyes at me with a mischievous thought. — “We will be long dead by then, except maybe you sweetheart, if the tales of your kind’s longevity has any merit to it.”

I offered a sheepish smile to that. Since I was equally curious about that question. Still, a world filled with so many dangers as this… I wondered if my longevity was worth anything when, wherever I turned, there were monsters waiting to sink their teeth in me. With this realization, I suddenly looked at both Aria and Dalorsaer in a new light. Both of them managed to reach an impressive age in such a world, while being warriors to boot. This fact alone demanded respect.

Dalorsaer paused for a few seconds, waiting for a response, when I didn’t say anything. He started thinking over his next words. In the end, he decided to speak his mind.

“The dark ones were exiled into the cursed lands, whence they still try to crawl back every once in the while… I tell you, there is another wave coming. I can feel it in my bones.” — He hesitated for a second before continuing. — “The deep roads are silent, they are too silent, there is an ominous tension in the air. This sense of something watching.”

I immediately remembered that very same sensation, which I have experienced so many times by now. I thought that was how the deep roads felt. After all, it was my first time entering them. Was that not the case?

“It is never a good sign when the stone stays still for so long.” — The man rambled on. — “It is like the silence before the storm.” — We shifted uncomfortably in our seats, as the conversation once again drifted towards darker topics.

There was a stifling silence left behind the old dwarf’s words.

Thanks to the heavy silence, we grew aware of a pair of footsteps echoing through the corridor behind us. They were nearing our location and, with their presence, effectively ending our conversation.

That so, they could not distract me from the icy dread that seeped into my bones. The old man’s words echoed true through my mind. How could they not, when I have known since the moment I came into this world? I have known that the dark ones were gathering their strength with the sole intention of setting the world ablaze.