Yggdrasil Fallen, LitRPG Series
Book 1, Part 1: Obsidian
Chapter 28: Bonfire
Eight feminine figures stood in an almost completely formed circle, their pale skin highlighted by their various tattoos softly glowing in a veritable rainbow of hues in stark contrast to the flickering fire that burned at center of the circle. The sky overhead was barely lit by a trio of pale moons that hung in a tight triangular cluster, two of the moons much larger than the third. The smoke from the fire rose between them, unstirred by breath or breeze. Soft curls of wispy vapor curled from each of their lips, as they waited, the heat of the fire doing little to repel the creeping night cold. One of the individuals finally spoke, her fiery impatient voice piercing the stillness of the air:
“Where is Andastrea?! Her meeting with him was not supposed to take this long!”
“Calm yourself Cinteras, of all us she is the best fitted for the task assigned. I am quite certain she will be with us before long, her goals fulfilled.” Phiones voice rang out through the ring, like waves of a turbulent ocean crashing upon the shore.
“Yes, I know! But it is still quite rude of her to call this meeting only to leave us all waiting. This is so like her to do this.” Cinteras whined in response. A breeze had picked up, sending fallen leaves spiraling with the smoke of the fire into the air.
“Ahhhh, it would seem she has finally deemed us worthy of her presence.” A third, cruelly sarcastic voice ground out.
“I am quite sorry, Caliostropa. Has my delay bothered you quite so much as to warrant such cruelty?” Came the dangerously bright yet almost sinister tones of Andastrea as she strode into the fire lit ring.
“If you call a meeting, it is expected you attend at the time called. Otherwise, you might call to question your loyalty and dedication to our cause.” Caliostropa growled back.
“I apologize my sisters; I found my meeting with the newest ascended prospect to be quite… engaging.”
“What exactly are you talking about.” Came Cinteras’ question, frustration simmering now with a tinge of curiosity.
“It would seem our branded initiate has found his way into the possession of Shildras. Beyond that, it would seem they are working now in unity. As soon as his radiance was unsealed, the weapon immediately began to adapt to the conversion flow.” A stilling silence radiated around the circle, the fire crackling in their stead.
“Furthermore, he was able resist the effects of the Songflower tea.” A murmur passed through the gathered sisters, followed by a prolonged silence as the fire flared; one of the sisters laying several large logs into the burning ring. It was Tione who spoke next, her usually over excited nature tamped tightly by tension hanging in the circle.
“Songflower tea? Why would you allow an individual mid-conversion to imbibe such an elixir?”
“I was merely curious about a number of factors that have arisen to differentiate him from all the ascended I’ve marked in the past.” Andastrea responded, her blatantly cold voice reverberating in contestation to the flaring fire.
“It does not matter where your curiosities lay! You know full well that concoction gains its name from the haunting tune those who have not reached a stable point in their conversion emit, as their spirits collapse, and bodies corrode as the imbiber falls to their final sleep.” Phione yelled back, her calm demeanor broken by the unfeeling expression on her sisters’ face.
“My curiosity proved fruitful. I now know just how well protected he is by the sisters of fate, and by the greater spirit of the tree itself. The brand he carries is a mark upon his very soul that disintegrates the binding seals of singular conversion. It is the mark of corruption and decay. His ascension is proof the world tree is beginning to rot at its very roots and that all we seek to protect is unravelling around us. He has been cursed with the burden of desolation, misery and ultimately… doom. Though his path is inexorable, carefully guided by those accursed sisters, I feel our rapid intercession may be necessary to see our means through; should his soul bare the strain without shredding. With the fates hands in play our hope lays in his meager chance to break the chains that bind his very soul and allow himself to become the salve of Yggdrasil itself; lest we all burn with it.”
The weight that hung in the air seemed to stifle the very bonfire itself, even the smoke from the burning logs feathering to the ground and dispersing in a paling mist. The sisters stood, even the prominence of their runic tattoos glow subdued by the collective fear drawn from the severity of Andastrea’s words.
“Also, it would seem that our dear adversaries deemed him worthy of their precious garment, though I cannot fathom to what extent it will grow in symbiosis with him. It could become an unfortunate problem should he vanish from our collective gaze.” Andastrea paused, her moonlight eyes resting on the simmering embers of the ashen logs.
“There is one positive, my dear sisters. If I may report it. It would seem our dear ascended’s alter ego has figured out how to utilize his burdensome gift to cross between realms. While he cannot control it yet, I may have played one of my cards to guide him to the realm of the ancient ones after he appeared in a fallen reality. May Yggdrasil guide him to the clues he needs to purge the corruption and stagnation in defiance of the fates machinations.” The following silence carried for some time longer, before one of the sisters who had remained, unto this moment silent, spoke up:
“You mentioned Shildras? Does that mean my dearest love has finally reemerged from the depths of the unconsecrated aspects… from our very purgatory?”
“Anila, you daft airhead! Mention of your lover’s name given the severity of the conversation transpiring right now is the least of all our concerns. That name is not all that terribly uncommon regardless, keep your senses in a gathering like this. Even if the given name were of your forsaken lover, we all know his fate and how he came about it.” Caliostropa’s harsh, chiding words split the air, silencing the youngest of the gathering. Despite the harsh tongue lashing she had just received Anila looked on with extreme contempt.
“It would seem to me, Caliostropa, that it has been quite some time since you’ve known just how gratifying men can be, mayhap its time you drop your prudish facade and go wild for a millennia or two, proclivities are rather rewarding when properly… handled.” Caliostropa’s sneer dropped as she opened her mouth in an attempt at malicious defiance, ready to hurl another volley back when Andastrea cut in.
“Now, dearest sisters, it is not the time for us to be at each-others’ throats, we need to decide who next will meet with our little scion and plan accordingly.” She paused momentarily a sly, almost satisfied smile curling her lips.
“Besides, even in my briefest of meetings with Andre, I found things to be quite… enoyable; perhaps you will as well.” Another series of glances passed around the circle before a soft, calming voice; one who had yet to speak amongst them swept the circle:
“If he is truly as… engaging… as you hint, I would very much so like to… meet… with him next.”
Everyone turned to the sister, known for usually being one of the last to mark a newly ascended, startled at her sudden interest in the matter. He words hung in the air far too long, before Andastrea followed:
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“Very well, does anyone contest Telene being the next to mark the fledgling?”
Phione and Tione exchanged a series of confused and worried glances at Andastrea’s question, neither one wanting to break the silence or contest the suggestion. When no one at the gathering made motion to contest or put out voice of concern Andastrea continued.
“Very well, Telene you will be the next to meet with him. While I currently know where he is, I strongly suggest you seek him out ere too long lest you must track him down again. Engaging him at your leisure may not be the wisest course. Should everyone agree; unless there is a matter of significance that warrants earlier intercession, we can reconvene on the next solstice. Does anyone have anything else to add?” A long silence followed, as several of the nine exchanged uneasy glances.
“Should I find this… gift from the Fates to be too much of an… inconvenience, would you all find it admissible to… unmake its bindings…” Telene asked, speaking carefully. Another silence filled the hollow like a dense fog off a night’s ocean before Caliostropa spoke up:
“Of everything discussed tonight, I feel the words you have spoken to be the daftest. Tampering with the loom’s product, woven in collaboration by the sisters so famously contentious with each other, could prove to be an arrogance the sees our own unraveling. This object is something we may just have to work around, unless circumstances drastically change in our favor.” Andastrea, stunned by the lack of her sister’s usually sneeringly snide commentary continued in her stead:
“I would tend to agree, while we cannot fathom their intentions it is important we keep to our own particulars, as they do theirs and find hope in our design and that their machinations do not bring the foreseen ruin. Now, as time grows late and while I would apologize for my prolonged tardiness once more, I have matters I must see too, lest there are other matters to tend.” When there was no response from anyone surrounding the bonfire, she nodded again.
“Very well then, be safe and well my sisters. May Yggdrasil fuel your futures.” In a small flash of light she shimmered from the circle and like lamps being extinguished, each of the other sisters blinked away in a puff of hued light until only Caliostropa remained, staring into the embers of the smoldering bonfire; a twisted smile and manic laughter in her eyes.
“Plans… they do have a way of going… awry… I may have to meet this child ere long myself!” she cackled to herself, holding her palm to the fire: its dying flames throbbed and pulsed upwards as though being sucked into a vacuum. As the bonfire flickered out, so did her presence at the ring; the three moons overhead just reaching their apex as insects began buzzing and chirping; animals resuming their nightly hunt and a thin wisp of smoke curling to the sky.
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Andre sat near his own little fire, started in what had appeared to be a steel fire ring in the back yard of a neighborhood of foreign architecture. The odd dome-based structures had been built from what he could only contextualize as aluminum, glass wrapped in thick vines. To either side of the constructs rose cylindrical towers of glass encased in more vines. While he had only landed in this world just a few hours before sunset, what he had gleaned in the light he had was this appeared to be a very suburban area outside a much larger city where most of the houses shared a similar architecture. Andre couldn’t be sure he was alone, as the last world he visited was still sparsely populated with a starving people, vaguely human. They struggled to survive in a landscape heavily polluted with poisonous smog and a sun blotted out by dense roiling clouds that spewed acid almost hourly.
His time there had been torturous, the bedraggled dregs of a ravaged society on the brink of extinction pleading with him for help he could not provide. All while the rains that fell ate away at his armor and skin alike. His gear desperately needed repairing: between the absurd number of aspect beasts that ravaged the world, and the toxic rains he found only the cloak and what it covered spared from the continual decay. Andre sat, spirit and eyes heavy as he stared into the fire, while they weren’t entirely human, they had enough humanoid features to make their plight painful to have been entrenched in. It was made all the worse when he was forced to kill several who relentlessly pursued, and nearly killed him in an attempt of robbery.
“Is that what my home is doomed to become? Is there anything I can do to prevent it…? What can I do to help people like that, should I come across another like that?” Andre cried to himself, as he stared into the dancing flames of the fire he’d lit. He had wanted to stay, help them anyway he could but he knew he had to leave lest he be drug down with them: they tried to kill him for his weapons and armor alone, what would have happened had they discovered his supply of food? Who knows what they would have done. So, he ran, tearing a dimensional schism as soon as the ability was off cooldown. As he sat, watching the flames seemingly bounce around within the confines of the steel ring he felt a familiar chime in the back of his mind:
“It has officially been one month since you received your first mark. This is usually the time when you would be visited by another sister to receive another and further your conversion. Since I doubt that will occur here tonight, would you like to commemorate the occasion by reviewing skill and ability progressions?”
“It’s already been a month, has it?” Andre mused in response.
“Wait, you said the one-month mark is usually when I would have met another sister? But… I’ve met three…?
“This is correct, that is why your conversion progression has been so remarkable.”
“I mean, I think I get it… but to be completely honest with you ALIAS, I’d very much so rather not dig into the specifics of things. I’m just so damned tired right now and honestly, I’m still kinda hoping to wake up in a hospital bed somewhere, all of this having been a coma dream. Don’t get me wrong, magic, superhuman abilities and physique are absolutely incredible, but fuck man. I really don’t want to have to deal with another reality like that last one.” Andre shuddered at the memory of the hordes of beasts, the pockets of “society” and above all the toxicity of the environment.
“While I cannot say with absolute certainty that not all worlds will be in such a state, I do know we will have to find a way to shore up your supplies, we cannot have you dying from starvation.” ALIAS answered. Andre thought back to his first experience looting some of his first beast kills in that stagnant world: all that was yielded was toxic meat, and low-quality leather that quickly fell apart in his hands; not even aspect tokens congealed in the process. Some of the tougher beasts had been even worse for drops, the items emitting poisonous clouds of fumes, nearly killing him had it not been for the emergency protocols activation.
“I mean, I get why they turned on each other for resources, rather than banding together to push back the beast packs: there was just nothing to gain and everything to lose… but to think society could so easily turn on itself… it’s just so… heinous.”
“Oi, wouldja quit bein such a right cunt, ye lil whiney ass ascended bitch?” Shildras seemingly growled in his ear.
“People fuckin suck, an I doubt you’ll survive long iffin ye let em get unner ye skin. Dun make me regret acceptin ye as mah partner… I really dun wanna go back… there… any time soon. Thicken ye fuckin skin n lets rip en tear some arse, eh?” Shildras continued, its way of attempting to cheer him up.
“I guess you’re right, I just need to get stronger… get more power, maybe in one of my unsealing’s I’ll gain the ability to cleanse corrupted energies? Fuck all on that “Light of Purgation” ability. Gods damned that was a miserable thing.” Andre laughed, remembering his attempt to purge the toxins from one of the more favorable pockets of population he’d stumbled across in the last reality.
“That certainly is a possibility, but for now you must focus on increasing the strength of your current aspects so your Mind, Soul and Body are ready for whenever you meet the next sister. If you haven’t met a sufficient level of your own aspect durability in any, there is a chance they will not even appear before you. Or if they do, the abilities gained will be quite… subpar.” ALIAS spoke.
“I know, I know. I fully understand the path to true power is to use my abilities, hope for more, and above all else just fight the denizens of the dark.”
“Or radiance, gale, terra, frost…..”
“Oh do shut up ALIAS, it’s a phrase not a technicality.”
“Well, technically it is a technicality so...”
“…. Just shut up”
“Oi, boy… yeh do realize that you’re just arguing with yerself… aye?”
“You know… I don’t believe I asked for your opinion here… fucking leech.” Andre laughed.
“Dis “fuckin leech” has saved yer arse more n it can count, yeh cunt.” Shildras shot back, laughing in its own way.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen… let us distract from this vulgar course of conversation and move onto something more productive.” ALIAS spoke, an imperious undertone to its voice.
“Go fuck yourself ALIAS, you started this “Vulgar course of conversation” with your ridiculous smartass commentary.” Andre shot back, beckoning a round of silence, during which he pulled a package of dried meat from his bag and began to chew on a small piece.
“So, do you plan on always lighting a fire… or is your dumbass ever going to look at what abilities you gained from that tome of “Glowstone Artifices”?” ALIAS asked, prompting yet another round of increasingly vulgar conversation that rallied morale and eased the built up tensions from the experiences of the last world.
Their argument seemed to drag on through the rest of the night, and it wasn’t long until a crimson sun was peaking over the horizon, masked by the alien structure to his back. His fire having long since gone out Andre rose to his feet, the now quiet of his internal voice settling his nerves. He turned to face the neighborhood he had appeared in, ready to explore and seek out what ever secrets the land he found himself in held.