“What do you mean…?” There was a look of uncertainty on Kuja’s face. “We’re you born cursed?”
“No, nothing like that.” Something started bubbling up in the back of Cira’s mind and she fought to push it down. “I don’t remember the details.”
“Is that part of the curse?” The way this woman seemed to stare straight into the soul was incredibly uncomfortable. At least the spider took care to be subtle. “Or perhaps trauma?”
“Uh… Probably the latter? I always suspected my dad did something too.” He would always say things like, ‘You’ll remember when you’re older, Cira. I’m certain of it’. “I can’t say I’m champing at the bit to reminisce, though.”
“If we manage to reforge your soul, be prepared to remember everything. Your memories are stored within your physical body, even if they are locked away, but their remnants exist within the soul as well. Those within your soul which have burned off will come to the forefront of your mind as your essence synchronizes.”
“Ah, as ‘corporea and aetherea become one’, the memories will return… This will not be a pleasant procedure, will it?” Cira thought it was an honest question, but it was apparently a very, very stupid one.
“Is that a serious question, child?” She didn’t even bother to answer, just looked at her aghast.
“No, not really…”
“Hey, Cap’n, I hate to interrupt,” Skipper had returned with the rest of her crew holding plates. Lunch today was some kind of bird and rock crab on the side, splayed open like it would be at an upscale restaurant.
“My word, Skipper.” Cira wasted no time in snapping one of the crab’s legs off and slurping the meat out, “You’ve really outdone yourself this time. We’ll get back to this soon, Kuja.”
Cira dug in and got about halfway through her meal when a glass was set down before her. For a brief moment she was excited to see the golden beverage bubbling froth over the rim, until she realized hers was the last. All of the others’ ales had already been placed, and some were nearly half empty.
She wasn’t upset that she was last in line, no. Nothing so trivial. “Did you waste my money on booze? Didn’t I tell you to buy as much food as possible?”
Skipper shrunk down and stammered when Jimbo raised his glass, “I say he made a good call. It’s been a damn long day.”
Everyone’s nervous eyes turned to Cira. I wasn’t really mad… “Aye. That it was.” She raised her own glass. Isn’t it only about noon right now?
Precious ale spilled as their glasses clinked together, but not one eye shed a tear—for the ale that is. The soul issue was briefly tabled as they decompressed over a glass and some good food. Even Kuja joined them. She knew some of the dead since they were children, as she did half of Cira’s crew apparently.
“How are we going to get, well… anywhere?” Jimbo couldn’t help but ask as he gazed into the abyss which encompassed Breeze Haven. “And those… ghosts? I haven’t felt mana like that since you beat up Don in that weird red cave. And I can see it now. There’s… a lot.”
“Indeed. Kuja’s ancestors have been getting saturated in pure darkness for likely centuries. Touch one and you’ll probably turn into a shadow. Unlike something with corporeal form, these spirits have no soul to contain their mana within. Or in other words, we’re back to ghosts. They’re basically nothing but soul—the aethereal form.”
“You are quite learned.” Kuja seemed genuinely impressed. “You must take after your father.”
That might be the best compliment I’ve ever received. “If you were wondering, such spirits are classified as revenants, but I have never seen them take on the dark element.”
“But how do we get past them?!” James cried.
“They will not approach if we carry light.” Kuja didn’t seem worried whatsoever, which was comforting. Revenants weren’t often peaceful and even Cira felt nervous with so many powerful spirits flying around. Without her aura all she could feel was the overbearing mana as it weighed down on her. If they bore strong regrets or grudges, it didn’t seem to affect anyone.
Since they were done with their meal, Cira had the guys clean up and went to fetch her favorite lamp. This would be an incredibly thematic opportunity to wield the Far Caller’s Lantern, but that would instead draw the spirits closer.
No, Cira’s favorite lamp went by the name of Prismagora. “You got enough in you, right?” The staff’s gem gave off a dim white glow. As long as it didn’t run out while they were in the dark, everything would be fine. It was sitting in the sun for weeks, after all.
Jimbo had his torch out and Cira was able to scrounge a couple more off the walls of the training hall to hand out, then she led them down the stairs. Spirits whooshed around like a stiff breeze and seemed to follow them at a distance, coalescing above them. Muffled whispers came and went, but nothing coherent.
At the bottom of the stairs, Cira’s staff provided enough light to see the path ahead and the gate creaked as she gingerly opened it and stepped through. The revenants loosely followed and all maintained their distance as they wisped around her like there were still a barrier holding them back.
“Come on, now.” The crew hadn’t moved and if they didn’t soon, her and Kuja would leave them behind. “These are nothing like the ghosts of Fount Salt. You don’t have to stare at your feet.”
It didn’t cross her mind how unlikely it was that anyone present had visited the Last Step.
“Why is it always like this when we follow you?” Jimbo asked, “I’ve lived on this island almost my whole life and I had no idea Kuja’s folks were just flyin’ around over here.”
“I thought you liked seeing crazy shit. You should be having the time of your life right now. Just hurry up, would you?” After seeing the spirits hold themselves at a distance with no sign of hostility, they eventually crept outside to join her and Kuja. She was down two goons from earlier, and evidently Baum had been shipped off to Green Pit as well.
Shadows loomed and everyone could feel their weight. Even Prismagora’s light felt incredibly small under the oppressive sea of darkness. Cira was at the front and the torches got progressively dimmer, but she noticed one man almost straggling into the darkness, “Why are you so scared, Rocky? Aren’t you a mage?”
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Come to think of it, he has been really quiet since last night. They took a slow pace as her crew was nervous, but it didn’t take long before Breeze Haven was out of sight. Cira left the lights on so it would be easier to find later. Consuming all the dark mana settled in this depression of the land would leave her home with a surplus of power to sustain, but its light still could not penetrate more than a few paces through the dense shadows.
Now there was nothing but Cira’s staff and a few flickering torches to light the weathered bricks beneath their feet. Everything else was black.
“What does my being a mage have to do with it? A-are you sure some of us can’t turn back?” To Rocky’s credit, he was in the back and almost fully enveloped in the darkness. Even though it could not be seen, her home was right there, so it was still a reasonable question.
“I didn’t have Skipper buy all that food just so you can sit in my house and eat it.” That was out of the question. “Besides, I’ll be needing your services soon enough.”
“For what?! I didn’t sign up for this sh—”
“Silence!” Kuja whipped around and gave Rocky the death stare, “This is where my ancestors rest. It is bad enough that we are disturbing them so.”
I’m just glad the light doesn’t hurt them. It’s not holy, but the spirits are pretty much pure dark mana. It may hurt them if they got too close, but Kuja wouldn’t have brought us here if she thought that were a risk.
They continued on in silence and stepped carefully over the broken pavement. Every so often they passed grave markers like carved stone obelisks and towering mausoleums which threatened to crumble away with a few more storms. The sullen woman stopped in front of one and gazed at it for a few brief moments before continuing on.
“Here. This will lead back to the village.” They stood before a tall archway that led to a dark tunnel, but as they got closer their light seemed to travel down a long hallway. It was as if the hall was completely sealed off from the surrounding dark mana when Cira noticed glyphs carved into the stones which formed the arch. Kuja saw her inspecting them, “This was constructed long before my time, child. I would not be surprised if you knew more about it than I.”
“The runes are simple, but surprisingly robust. I could teach them to you after we get my soul figured out if you like.” The arch forms an array and a sort of barrier that allows all mana but dark to enter. An interesting approach and one I probably wouldn’t take, but these have stood in constant use for centuries with hardly any wear to show for it. “Do you maintain this artifact?”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.” Kuja admitted. “The artisans have long since passed.”
Once inside the hall everybody relaxed. It was a huge relief to her crew that they arrived without incident. Despite the frightening levels of mana, Cira hadn’t once gotten the impression the dark revenants willed harm upon her. She watched them linger just past the doorway before fading into the rest of the shadows.
“I may need your help finding my way back…” Cira could dump enough light into this basin to flush out the mana well once she got her aura back, but Kuja’s ancestors would suffer for it.
The woman only chuckled, “I will guide you, child.”
Cira wasn’t happy about the walk, but she couldn’t ask for a better place to hide Breeze Haven while everything blew over. All of the Dreadheart pirates were either within sight or off island. There were no extraneous responsibilities liable to fall apart behind her back and she could finally focus on the task at hand. It still took around an hour to get to their destination, but Cira grew more delighted with each moment they didn’t descend deeper into the earth.
Prismagora had started to dim, so Cira let it rest. After just a few more minutes of travelling by torch, daylight funneled in and beyond was the mist she’d come to know. Another depression formed between a ring of mountains, though much smaller than Archaeum and with plenty of light. Built along the mountainside was a village in much the same vein as Hangman’s Cove.
A pathway circled all the way around and structures hung precariously from the cliffs, but everything looked constructed with a lot more care than the pirates could apparently manage. With not a shanty in sight, most buildings were huts built with uniform logs and thatch, while two rope bridges formed a cross over the chasm with a suspended platform in the center. Below that the mist grew so dense it may as well have been a mana well. It was impossible to tell how far the bottom lay, but this village seemed to continue beyond the veil.
“A beautiful home you have.” Cira observed, peering into the dense fog below.
“Beautiful, yes.” Kuja’s gaze was somewhat distant. “This place used to be so full of life, too…”
Leaving the dark but lively necropolis behind to find a whole village with a single resident at the end of the tunnel was strangely disquieting. Wind whistled as it swirled down the mountain and a cool breeze fell over them. Nothing here was in disrepair but it gave off the feeling of an abandoned town or historical site. As if she could feel Cira deliberating over whether to ask, Kuja quickly turned again and led them along the stilted boardwalk.
“If I’m not mistaken, we’re heading towards the shore where we found you.” If this connected all the way back, that would be a boon. Her returning crew would come straight to them—by morning, if her new fleet’s captain could be relied on.
“It is just on the other side of this ridge.” Kuja didn’t seem like she wanted to spend more time here than necessary, “Within is where I reside. We will spend the evening carefully reviewing the book.”
That would explain the plateau-hovel she came out of, and Cira couldn’t blame her for not wanting to live in the desolate village. In a way, she knew what it was like after years alone on Breeze Haven, but her own situation was admittedly different.
There was another archway like the one that led to Archaeum, but this one at least had a door. It was much smaller, too. When Kuja opened it, the faint scent of herbs wafted out. It was almost nostalgic. “Are you an alchemist?” Cira asked.
“In the village, everyone learned their way around medicine as a child.” Kuja rolled right through an unexpectedly touchy subject. “There are many herbs in these mountains and the surrounding forest.”
The interior was lit by artifacts on the ceiling and carved out to look much more like a home than any other cavern she’d seen on this island. They followed Kuja up a set of stairs and saw windows with a familiar mountaintop beyond it. The path had officially come full circle.
“Jimbo, make everyone some tea.” Kuja commanded Cira’s subordinate like it was second nature then gasped and looked at her, “Oh! I apologize. I should not order your guys around.”
“No, by all means.” Cira waved her off, “I’m quite parched after that walk.”
They seemed to be in something of a common area with doorways on either side and a table in the middle. Kuja urged everyone to sit, and Cira followed suit, finding a spot next to her. After plopping the book down and opening it to her bookmark, Cira prepared to enter another spiel, “Now, I think we should start with the components of the soul forge. If there’s anything we need that’s reasonably accessible, I’d like to have a list ready by morning—”
“About that…” Kuja pointed to a sketch of the aethereal furnace they needed. “To the Archaeans, this device is known as the incipient vessel.”
Cira’s eyes grew wide, “Do you mean to say—”
“Indeed. I told you it was a lost art of my people, not that my village was destroyed.” Kuja tapped her fingers on the table in thought, “I believe our aethereal furnace is already accounted for, though I must admit this design is quite thorough.”
“You have a soul forge?!” Cira slapped her hands down and leaned forward, startling the old spirit-sworn before sitting back. “Sorry.”
“Calm yourself, child…” Kuja let out a long sigh. “We do not have a soul forge as you know it. While our Cairn of Spirit is meant to reforge the soul, it does not work in entirely the same way. There are a few devices here I do not recognize even from the description, and I don’t understand this concept of ‘Essence Propagation’. I suspect my people’s knowledge lacked depth to a degree, and parts of the Cairn performs tasks that have been split up in Gazen’s method.”
“Great, I was really hoping for your help on that part.” She received a tired squint from the woman, “Where is your… Cairn of Spirit location?”
“Beneath the lowest level of Archaeum, of course.”
“Count me out.” Rocky rudely cut in, “I’m here to move rocks, not fight ghosts.”
What was his name… Lant? He was a much more reliable geomancer than this fellow. All of my exorcists would scoff at this man.
“It isn’t the spirits we need to worry about below.” Kuja’s ominous voice put serious faces on everyone present, including Jimbo as he set Cira’s tea down. “There are beasts on this island attuned to the darkness. They moved from the basin into Archaeum proper many years ago, following the fall of my people. It is not somewhere we may access easily."