Arren awoke in darkness. He was confused, covered in sweat and his entire body burned. With an effort of will he reached for his power. The shackles that had bound him were gone and mana trickled into his hand until a small globe of pure white light rose from his hand, illuminating the room. The light brought fresh waves of pain, the very act of conjuring the globe seemed to ignite his body with flames. He let the light fade and fell back into unconsciousness.
The next time he opened his eyes the room was filled with soft light streaming through the curtains, he was still in a lot of pain, but it wasn’t as intense as before. He turned his head, looking around the room. It was a large, unfamiliar room; walls covered in shelves, floor buried in books. He was unsure whether he was in a library or a storage room. He was the notable exception, well him and the bed he was occupying. He was lying on a thick mattress on the floor beneath the window directly opposite the door.
Arren shoved the blankets of him, hoping the air would cool his burning body and refresh his mind. He lay still for a moment, his arms aching from throwing of the blankets. He was alive. He could feel his mana, that was good, he might feel terrible, but at least he was alive. For a while he did nothing, he simply breathed, appreciating that he still could, even if it was painful.
Eventually he made to rise, which turned out to be a terrible idea, he didn’t even manage to stand properly before his legs gave out and he fell face first into a stack of books. Pain blossomed in his entire body, there was the sound of running feet, then blissful blackness.
Arren didn’t know how long he had been unconscious for this time, but he awoke back on the mattress to the feeling of gentle hands rubbing his chest with a cool liquid that seemed to burn and chill him simultaneously. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, the treatment was somewhat pleasant, even with the strange liquid. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the pain he might have found this erotic, hot nurse fantasy and all.
That was also a reason he hadn’t opened his eyes yet, the hands caressing his body were long and slender, clearly those of a woman, but he really didn’t want to face a reality were this was actually a troll or something, better to pretend sleep and enjoy the fantasy.
It was a luxurious feeling, like going to a spa and getting a full body massage, perfect for his ruined body, until a voice broke his reverie, a male voice.
“I know you’re awake”
Arren froze, unsure of what to do, should he admit it or pretend to still be sleeping? The man above him didn’t give him a choice though, he just kept speaking.
“You tensed when you woke, it doesn’t matter, you just need to listen anyway. Your mana, don’t use it again, not until father says you can.”
That got Arren’s attention, he opened his eyes to look up at a man, a very handsome man; a younger, dark haired version of Caelian. The man’s features were strong, sharp, like his father, handsome, albeit more youthful. Awkward though Arren. He hadn’t even suspected that the one touching him had been male. A very attractive man too be sure, but he didn’t flirt, he would not be “that” creepy patient.
He stared at the elf’s smirking face for a while; he couldn’t help but notice the peculiar colour of the man’s eyes, yellow and green, fascinating. The elf was the one who broke the moment; he put his hand on Arren’s chest, watching as he squirmed, and smirked.
“I’ve applied a healing salve to your body, it should help your body heal, but you have a rather severe case of mana-burn and we can’t treat that with magic. Hopefully you’ll be able to cast normally within a few weeks, but until then you have to avoid using mana, or you might burn out.”
Arren balked at those words; “What do you mean burn out? I won’t be able to use magic anymore?”
The elf hesitated, then sighed before answering. “Arren, if you burn out you’ll be nothing but magic, it will consume you, rip your soul to shreds and dissolve your personality. In short you die, but worse, you die forever, no reincarnation, ever. Now, sleep”
The elf left Arren to his tumbling thoughts. Mana could kill his soul? Reincarnation was real? The hands of elven men felt as soft as a woman’s? The last might not be all that important, but damn it was weird. Luckily being sick, tired, horny and confused seemed to be a good combination for sleep, because he soon drifted off to dreamless oblivion.
When Arren woke again he didn’t know how long he had slept, but he felt slightly better. The room was still dark, but this time light was filtering into the room through the gap beneath the door. Along with the light came soft voices, they were too quiet for Arren to catch the words, but he thought he recognized the speakers. One was Caelian, the other was his not-so-female nurse.
The embarrassment of the previous night was still fresh in Arren’s mind, so while he felt that his body was much stronger than it had been he was still careful when he swung his legs over the edge of the bed to attempt standing. To his relief both his feet and the floor seemed sturdy enough, the joy he felt was almost palpable. Apparently, Caelian and his son heard him as they immediately stopped talking.
Arren could hear the shuffle of a chair and the soft pattering of feet before the door opened to reveal Caelian holding a robe.
“Seems a bit indecent to wander around in your underpants boy, don’t you think?”
He was smirking! Sadism seemed to be a family trait, after all, why not just leave the robe with him? Alas, they had to thrive on his embarrassment.
“Put on this robe, and come join us for breakfast”
Arren ever the dutiful guest nodded a thank you and took the robe, noticing his rocks had been placed in the pocket, they probably thought them sentimental. The material was unfamiliar to him, smooth, warm and definitely not something he had expected after the last elven clothing he had worn. He examined it with a critical eye, noting that various runes decorated the hems of the robe. He could sense the mana they emitted the lettering itself was unfamiliar, although somewhat similar to Nordic runes he had seen back on earth. Each letter was sewn with silver thread, which made the otherwise plain brown look almost regal.
That was nice of them to give him something like this, and it was his first enchanted object, aside from the scarf which he couldn’t see anywhere, though his hosts would likely know where it was. Well, Arren assumed it was generous, for all he knew there might be enchanted objects left and right in this world, for now though he would treat it as a generous gift.
Waking himself from his reverie Arren dressed quickly and navigated through the cluttered stacks of books to find Caelian and his son. Arren’s room exited into a short hallway with three other doors, presumably more bedrooms. He followed the short corridor into a larger living area where he found his hosts sitting by a table drinking coffee, it smelled wonderful.
Arren was a bit at a loss as to how he should handle the situation; he couldn’t remember much from the trial; the pain had erased much of what happened after he arrived at the court. He seemed to remember Alice and Caelian speaking in his defence, but after that things became a blur as they faded into the memories of the pain he had suffered.
Now he was standing in someone’s house and they were calmly drinking their coffee, like having visits like this was common place for them, hell maybe it was, they might be healers, judging by the salves they had given him.
By now both Caelian and his son were looking at Arren somewhat appraisingly, for a moment it started to feel awkward until Caelian breached the silence.
“Come over here Arren, and sit down, have some coffee and tell us how you feel”.
Arren obediently sat down while Caelian’s son got him some coffee from the adjacent room.
“Ah, well” he started, “I guess I feel fine now, with the salve really helped” he turned towards the younger elf, “thank you for your help, I never did catch your name”.
The younger elf smiled “I’m Talian, and it was no problem, in fact, I learned a lot. It’s not often one gets the chance to see, and treat near fatal mana burns.”
Arren paled slightly, sure the pain had been horrendous, but near fatal? That seemed a bit extreme, he was still in pain, but it was manageable, if just barely.
“I feel terrible, but not like I almost died, was it really that bad?” he said.
Caelian frowned, answering for his son; “We kept you carefully sedated for two weeks so the pain wouldn’t drive you mad, then another week after the first time you woke up, you were in a bad shape, I’m surprised you even survived”
That was shocking, frightening, he almost died? What the hell was up with that sword? A sword of truth that almost murders the questioned, keeping him comatose for weeks? The fuck?! Still, he was alive, hopefully not just to be questioned further, speaking of which, he should probably ask, better to not get his hopes up.
“So, ugh, did I, urm, pass the trial?”
He hesitated and mumbled, not wanting to remember the pain, the fire burning him, the fire that still burned in him, just not as harshly. Caelian answered him;
“You passed, the council did not” He looked ashamed “They violated the spirit of the boon, and abused the Sword of Truth, Jesira descended in person, it was not pretty”.
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Caelian’s perspective:
The kid might look like Ashfield, but at most he was a descendant. I saw that, I knew it from the moment he introduced himself. He confirmed it with his curiosity, Ashfield knew of elven law, and he had never been curious like that, not so innocently wondering. Still, I didn’t speak, didn’t interfere, I just led him to his “trial”. I looked at him, wondering what he would do, what he would say.
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Arren spoke, none listened. Then that Voice, Alice was here, “Alice is here, Alice is …here. Oh.”
My brethren didn’t realise. Too few had spoken to her, she had been reclusive these past few centuries, I might be the only one left who had truly spoken to her, even I didn’t know what she was, but I knew that she wouldn’t be here if the kid wasn’t important, like Baelor was, like I had been. We had never been certain, but Baelor and I had thought she might be a goddess. I had to do something, my people might be misguided, but they did not deserve the wrath of a goddess.
I was speaking, I didn’t even realise it before I yelled for the sword. The council were fools, they should realise that going against the Old One’s will was folly. They kept pushing, too fearful that the kid should escape them. They voted, Alice sighed, I was terrified, mortals shouldn’t go against gods, what could I do? I yelled.
“I invoke the hero’s boon”
Silence, I can’t believe I did that, I never thought the day would come, I can’t believe I used my bon to help one child, that seemed …pitiful.
I saw Alice nodding approvingly, they questioned me, I answered. I cut my hand, I invoked the power, the boon came into effect. They fetched the sword, he would live, I was sure, he was innocent.
I saw the sword rise, I asked him one question, and I was horrified. He answered, truthfully, not as if he had a choice, he was burning, from one question, his mana channels must be extraordinary. He might die even with the boon. I tried to stop the council, they had the guards restrain me, they kept asking, he was burning, and screaming. I could see literal blue flames lapping from his skin. Then the sword broke. The kid collapsed were he stood, I rushed to him, the flames were subsiding, but he was still burning. I cast mana drain, repeatedly. I felt a hand on my shoulder, The Old One was behind me, helping me, I felt an incredible vastness, torrents of power, whispers of things too complex, I drew on her and kept channelling power from the boy. His pool was deep, too deep for his age, it took time, but eventually the flames were gone and his pool dry.
I felt faint, The Old One held me up, finally I saw what was happening. Above us floated a woman clad in white and silver, beautiful, ageless, standing on air. I had only seen statues of her, but I knew her shape, Jesira, Goddess of Justice, before her was the council and the shards of a broken relic.
I looked at Aliana with a mixture of pity and rage, she was a high-priestess of Jesira, she should have known better. The goddess seemed to agree with me, she raised a pale hand towards her priestess and declared “You have defiled my name, I banish you from my church and my sight, begone heathen” A stream of white light flew from the priestess to the goddess. Where there was once a youthful maiden, there now stood a crone, she had been stripped of her class, and as such the extended lifespan of the high levelled ones, I shivered, I couldn’t imagine loosing my class. The former priestess wailed, cried, collapsed and lay silent, dead or unconscious, I couldn’t be sure. More lights flew from some of the surrounding elves, Jesira was purging her clergy, only one woman was spared, she had tried to stop the abuse.
The four remaining council members stood stunned, afraid to further antagonise the goddess, but she had not forgotten them. “You who have led these people into sin, know that you have been seen and judged, I deem you, oath breakers, may all know your sin”
With that the goddess was gone, and the council members held a hideous black mark upon their brows. They gained an aura of discomfort, few ever wore such markings, as only prophets and gods could cast such curses, they symbolised the breaking of a divine taboo. Or more generally, a faith stat with a negative value. They would most likely have to go into seclusion, praying for forgiveness, most people wouldn’t be able to stand their presence until they were cleansed.
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Arren’s perspective:
When Caelian finished his explanation Arren didn’t know what to think, a goddess, an actual goddess? Had descended and passed judgement? He felt like he was on an acid trip. Then again; new world, monsters and elves, so a goddess, sure, why not? His world had thrown out of whack, that was for sure. Still one question remained:
“Why did the sword break?” he asked.
Caelian answered; “They tried to use it to murder an innocent, the trial should have stopped after you affirmed that you were in fact twenty-one and could not possibly be Ashfield, so the sword broke rather than killing you, even so, if The Old One and I hadn’t acted so quickly you would still have died.”
His tone was bitter, and he obviously struggled to control his rage. He took a sip of his coffee, obviously trying to calm down and searching for another topic of discussion. And he found one.
“Arren, I know some cultures find it rude to ask, but I’m curious, your mana capacity is extremely high for your age, as is your mana channels, what is your class?”
“What the hell is a class?” Arren thought. Still he had to answer;
“What is a class?”
Caelian nearly chocked on the coffee he was drinking, he seemed shocked, and kept looking at Arren as if searching for a sign that he was joking. He must have decided it was a joke because he answered sarcastically.
“Oh, you know, your class, couldn’t possibly be the box that says class in your status screen, honestly Arren if you don’t want to tell me, just say so.”
Caelian sounded annoyed, Arren looked confused, he had tried calling up a status screen after the initial message boxes. Did it exist after all?
“How do I open my status screen?”
Caelian glared, but answered, clearly peeved; “say or think status, any language should do.”
Arren did, and nothing happened, he said as much, Caelian stared to look uncertain.
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Caelian’s Perspective:
The kid was joking with me, the tribe hadn’t had much contact with any of the human kingdoms for a while, but surely the humans hadn’t stopped connecting to the system, had they? That would be a folly without equal, how would they gain enough strength to fight monsters?
I did something I normally wouldn’t, it was rude, and some casters could feel it, but I needed to know. I cast a partial appraisal, it wasn’t a difficult spell to learn, he stiffened so he noticed, damn. Still I got a result:
Damn, the kid wasn’t kidding, he did look at me though, questioning.
“What did you do? I felt mana wrapping around me, prodding, why?”
I cleared my throat, “I’m sorry, I had to know if you were telling the truth, you were, you have never been connected to the system, may I ask why you aren’t”
Arren seemed to shrug, he seemed to hesitate before answering my question, seemingly honestly, “I didn’t know it existed, how do I connect to it?”
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Arren’s perspective:
“Did I break him?” Caelian was steering into the air with glassy eyes, it seemed like he couldn’t process Arren’s statement, as if it was too absurd. Talian, who had been silent since they started talking about the trial tried shaking his father, but to no avail.
After a few minutes of Caelian staring glassy eyed at Arren he seemed to come alive again, a determined expression on his face. He rose abruptly, taking Arren’s arm as he did so.
“Come, we’re going to the temple, now”
Arren was pulled along through the house out onto the walkways of the city. Talian waved at them before returning inside the house. Confused as he was Arren didn’t really resist and just kept following the older elf as he was pulled along behind him.
The city was beautiful, being formed of massive trees, the sunlight filtering through the canopy down onto the houses. It was the sort of thing he had only ever seen in books, and now, having been released form captivity he could truly appreciate the beauty. They kept walking for another mile, until they were away from the city centre, the trees became wilder, less shaped, but there was still one large walkway that they could follow, it led up to a massive tree, standing slightly higher and away from the rest of the forest.
The tree was larger than all the others, even the one that held the court, the trunk alone had to measure hundreds of meters in circumference. The road led to a massive arch grown out of the tree itself, carved with hundreds of runes, all glowing a soft green. Caelian pulled him through the entrance, and stopped.
He looked at Arren for a moment before letting go of his hand and letting him look around. The inside of the tree was magnificent, it was like walking into a cathedral, tall arches, huge open spaces, and the windows, made from amber, filled the entire space with golden light. In the back of the room floated a massive blue crystal, giving of a feeling of immense power.
A woman in white kneeled before the crystal, head raised to the sky. Her voice filled the cathedral, words that Arren couldn’t comprehend, yet that filled his soul. Caelian whispered into his ear.
“she sings in celestial, the language of the gods, you’re lucky to witness this, few ever hear the voice of the white priestess.” He looked at the priestess, then at Arren before adding, “I will find another priestess, do not disturb her.”
Arren barely noticed that Caelian left, too enraptured by the voice of the priestess, he closed his eyes in wonder, it reminded him of the earth song, he felt for the pebbles in his pocket and with them he heard the song, it joined with the voice of the priestess, somehow strengthened, as if they knew each other. Arren didn’t even realise it when he started singing.
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Caelian’s Perspective:
I had only just found another priestess when the voice that had filled the cathedral faltered, horrified that the child, not knowing the protocols should talk to the White Priestess I started running back. Before I could reach the nave, I heard a new voice, deep as the earth, this voice sang not in celestial, but elemental. It had been so long since I heard a voice like that, not since Baelor had sacrificed himself.
The voice of the White Priestess rose, as if rejoicing in the reunion of lovers, the high and the low joined, the duet was unlike anything I had ever heard. Only now did I notice that my steps had faltered, and I started running again, the kid would be overwhelmed, if the magic stunned me I didn’t want to think about what it would do to him.
The first thing I noticed when I came running into the room was that the kid was not where I left him, the next that two figures were dancing, in the air. The White Priestess holding the arms of a statue made of marble and obsidian. An animate statue, the source of the earth song, they both seemed lost in the spell trance, but where was the foolish child?
As I was thinking this the duo seemed to be reaching the end of their song, both dancing the last steps down to the ground as the last words spilled from their lips. As they touched the ground the statue fell and crumbled, revealing to my shock, the boy.
“How? He doesn’t have a class, it’s not possible, I must be dreaming” I pinched myself, this wasn’t real, I was dreaming, clearly. The White Priestess looked at me smiling brilliantly, tears in her eyes as if she had been crying.
“Such potential, Caelian where did you find this child?”
I mumbled my reply “He wasn’t, I mean he didn’t, I mean I didn’t know, he doesn’t seem to be connected to the system, how is this even possible? What will you do with him Holy One?”
She frowned “Caelian, how many times must I tell you, call me Claris, becoming the White One doesn’t mean I can’t have friends. As for the boy, do you know why he hasn’t been blessed? I have never heard of an adult without access to the system, it’s weird? Especially since he is an earth singer, such power for one without the blessing of Origin is unheard of.”
I hesitated, it sounded so ridiculous, but the boy had given a reason, although a ridiculous one.
“He said he had never heard of it”.
Claris laughed “You can’t mean that, everyone knows of the system, how could he not?”
She looked at me as if waiting for some sign I was joking, when she realised I wasn’t she became more serious and grabbed the boy still lying on the floor, she dragged him, as if he was weightless over to the great crystal. She kneeled by the child and held one hand on his forehead and reached to the crystal with the other. Her voice filled the cathedral once more, this time not in celestial, but in elvish.
“By the will of the Weavess I awaken you to the power of Origin, may you grow in the system and the system grow with you.”
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The crystal flashed with pure blue light and Arren opened his eyes to see the system for the first time.
There was a glowing blue box in front of his face, this must be the system Caelian was talking about:
Name Arren Blackthorn Title: Earth Singer Str 6 Agi 7 Race Human variant: Arcane Blood Traits: Awakened End 4 Int 16 Class Mana Weaver (Lvl 1) Abilities: Voice of Origin, Earth Song Con 6 Wis 12 Age 21 Vit 6