Defying Destiny

by Andrew Rowe

  “You think I’d fit into that outfit? With my hips? Please.” Jonan chuckled, then his voice turned serious. “No, it’s not me. This is the first I’ve heard of any of that. I do have one more possible idea...but I’m going to need to do a bit of digging before I say too much. Don’t want to give you the wrong notion and waste your time.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “It is.” Jonan took a breath. “It’s also horrifying.”

  “Hm.”

  “Hm?”

  Velas smirked. “Think I might have read you wrong when we got started.”

  “Maybe. But don’t stop reading yet. You’re still in the prologue.”

  Chapter XIII – Taelien IV – Soul Survivor

  “So,” Taelien began as Wrynn led the way back toward her tavern, “why didn’t you want to tell him about the map?”

  Wrynn glanced back at him. “Because he was too interested in items from Rendalir. That means there’s a chance he could read the language on it, and if so, he might have figured out where it was leading just at a glance. At that point, the map would lose its value. I’d rather find someone else to translate it first.”

  “We could have told him we had a map without actually showing it to him.”

  Wrynn shrugged. “Sure, but I’d rather not play my hand that openly. There’s…ugh.” She paused, bending over and clutching her chest.

  Taelien rushed closer. “You okay?”

  “It’s…ah. No, but I will be. I need to get back to the vault, fast.” Her expression shifted from pained to apologetic. “If I collapse, you may need to carry me for a while.”

  “Is it that bad? I can carry you now, if you need me to.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Please. I’m going to meditate. Wake me when we get back to the tavern.”

  Taelien knelt down and lifted her up, then continued walking. She was light enough that she barely burdened him at all.

  She closed her eyes immediately after he lifted her, a look of strain on her face.

  For a moment, he thought he saw one of the tattoos on her arm move.

  When they reached the outside of the tavern, he spoke quietly in her ear. “We’re here.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Mm. Thanks. You can set me down.”

  She wobbled a little on her feet when he lowered her to the ground, and he continued supporting her as they walked inside.

  “Help me down the stairs, please.”

  She switched to linking arms with him, putting on a cheerful expression and waving at customers as they passed through the main room into the back. Her expression shifted again immediately when they made it to the back room. From there, she led the way slowly down to the vault entrance he’d seen before.

  When she pressed her hand against the gigantic metal doors of the vault, they swung open immediately. “This way.”

  Taelien’s last experience inside a Xixian vault wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but he certainly wasn’t going to abandon Wrynn, either.

  Fortunately, there was no flood of water or click of a deadly trap being triggered as they stepped inside. Instead, the opening of the vault was a virtually empty stone room, about twenty feet in each direction. There were a set of four ordinary stone doors on the opposite wall.

  “Far left,” Wrynn explained. She was sweating profusely.

  He helped her walk to the door, then reached for the handle.

  “Wait.” She stopped his hand, then reached into a pouch on her belt. She removed a small stone, pressing it into a gap on the stone wall next to the doorframe. There was a click, then she reached for the knob. “I’ve disarmed most of this place, but I keep a few things active for my personal use.”

  Wrynn pulled the door open, and it led into a small room the size of a closet. There was a small gap between the larger chamber and the small room, and the smaller room was constructed of metal, rather than stone. It appeared empty. “In.”

  They stepped inside.

  Wrynn said something in Xixian. Taelien understood only a bit of the language, but he thought it sounded like ‘sixteen’.

  The entire room began to move.

  Taelien suppressed his instinct to react at the sudden movement. The doorframe to exit the chamber disappeared, quickly replaced by another, and then another, as the room they stood within continued to shift.

  After a breath, he processed what was happening. It’s not a trap, it’s just a mechanical lift, like one of the ones they have in some of those fancy sorcerer towers.

  The room ceased moving after a time, then the door in front of them opened, leading into a circular chamber of white stone.

  In the center of the chamber was a circular pool of crystal-clear fluid. It looked like an exceptionally large spa bath, complete with steps leading down part-way down into it.

  “I need to get inside.” She moved toward the pool. “I’ll be in there for about a day. If you go back to the lift, just say ‘sholver’ and it will take you back to the entrance floor.”

  “You look like you’re about ready to faint. Do you need me to stay here to make sure you don’t lose consciousness? I don’t want you to drown.”

  She shook her head. “The fluid in there won’t drown me. I often spend…long periods of time in there. I’ll explain later.” She began stepping into the pool without bothering to slip off her clothes. She turned back briefly before submerging herself completely. “I owe you one. Go get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Taelien nodded absently. “You’re certain you’ll be okay here?”

  “Positive.” Wrynn nodded with a determined expression. “This is…unfortunately, somewhat routine. I’ll explain more soon, but for now, I need the pool. I can’t delay any longer.”

  “Got it. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow if you don’t come to me.”

  With that, he headed to the lift, said the word, and made his way back to the tavern.

  ***

  Taelien found Asphodel serving food and drinks to the customers. He blinked at her.

  She turned and smiled to him. “Miss Jaden will be unavailable this evening, so I am taking care of things. She has been most hospitable to us, and thus, I am ensuring that her business continues to operate smoothly.”

  “Did she—”

  “No, she didn’t ask,” Asphodel interrupted. “But I know she’ll be grateful for the help tomorrow.”

  “Your predictive abilities seem to have grown considerably more precise over the last year.”

  She nodded. “If I had taken the time to hone my abilities sooner, our encounter with Sterling might have gone much differently.”

  “I thought you were firmly opposed to any form of intervening with fate?”

  “I am. But Sterling’s patron is interfering with fate, and thus, I have concluded that using my own foreknowledge against them is a valid way to ensure the proper path is taken.”

  Taelien paused, considering. “Wait. Sterling’s patron — the Shrouded One? Can you divine what they’re up to?”

  Asphodel shook her head sadly. “No. Other oracles are impossible for me to see properly, much like you and Velas are.”

  “Wait. Hold on. Velas is like me?”

  Asphodel shrugged. “No. Gazing into your destiny shows me that of another. Seeing into her fate shows me nothing but a void.”

  “...Could she be the Shrouded One, then? Blocking your vision?”

  Asphodel seemed to consider that, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. Looking at Velas doesn’t feel like I’m being blocked by sorcery similar to my own. It’s more like there’s simply...nothing there.”

  “That sounds like void sorcery to me. Couldn’t the Shrouded One have access to that?”

  “Yes. But I do not think it is the same. I have encountered those with void sorcery, and that is like staring at a pitch-black wall. This is more like looking into a box, only to find the box is empty.”

  “That’s...creepy.”

  Asphodel nod
ded. “It is.”

  More questions about Velas for the future. I still know so little about her.

  Taelien shook his head, then dismissed the thought to focus on the present. “Okay. But if you’re predicting that Wrynn needs help in the kitchen today, isn’t that messing with fate?”

  “No, no. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be able to do anything at all. My restrictions relate to things that would change major events. Lives and deaths. Declarations of war. Political decisions. Simple things like this,” she pointed toward the tray of mugs she was carrying, “Aren’t significant enough to count as interfering with fate. I am not changing the course of any lives, merely lending a bit of comfort.”

  That seemed like an odd distinction to make, but he wasn’t going to complain. He’d never agreed with her non-intervention policy in the first place.

  It was almost equally odd that she was being more verbose than usual, but he didn’t mind that, either.

  He sat and ate the food that Asphodel brought him. And he worried.

  What am I doing here?

  He could have been training, or searching for more items of myth and legend. He would have been most comfortable seeking a battle. Perhaps practicing for a tournament, or hunting a dangerous monster that threatened a village.

  Dealing with politics, manipulation, and lies — that wasn’t his skill set. And as much as he was trying to adapt to it, he was still far from comfortable.

  Everyone seemed to have so many layers of secrets.

  How could he combat that without secrets of his own? Should he even be trying?

  This kind of brooding doesn’t suit me.

  He finished his food and headed outside to train.

  Body of Stone.

  His hands moved in a familiar pattern, striking at opponents he envisioned in his mind.

  In this practice, his questions and concerns faded to the back of his mind, and he found the tranquility that he needed.

  ***

  When Taelien found Wrynn the next morning, she was outside the Xixian Vault, sitting in a chair and knitting. The sight of it was so utterly mundane that he barely even recognized her.

  He was somewhat comforted when he realized that whatever she was knitting wasn’t made of ordinary cloth; it was black as ink and rippled and shifted in her hands like liquid. The needle she was using to weave it was a glowing point of silver, and as she turned to look at Taelien, it vanished entirely.

  Wrynn stood up, wobbly on her feet, and draped the incomplete garment over the back of her chair. “You’re up early.”

  Taelien walked closer, his expression concerned. “Asphodel woke me. You feeling better?”

  “As good as can be expected, given the circumstances.” She grunted. “I’m used to it by now.”

  “Is it something I can help with?”

  Wrynn stared at him for a moment, appraising. “In theory, yes. But you wouldn’t like it.”

  Taelien folded his arms and leaned against a nearby wall. “What’s that mean?”

  Wrynn set the garment she was working on down. “First, let me show you something.” She stood up, turned around, and lifted up her shirt, displaying her back.

  While Wrynn had tattoo-like marks across much of her body, the design on her back was on a completely different scale. There was a single, huge mark between her shoulder blades that spread outward into numerous tendrils, reaching toward each other section of her body. Dozens of other tiny markings were etched into the spaces between and around the blackness, glowing bright with a variety of colors. They were a beautiful contrast to the ink-black of the central mark.

  That’s the epicenter of her markings, he realized. And, as he watched, the central sigil moved. It shifted like liquid, just slightly changing in shape. When the writhing blackness made contact with one of the other sigils, Taelien saw sparks flash from the point of contact, and Wrynn visibly winced. “What is that?”

  Taelien took a step closer, raising a hand toward the central mark.

  “Don’t!” Wrynn pulled her shirt back down, turning around. “You don’t want to touch that. Certainly not while it’s active.”

  “I’d thought those tattoos might be dominion marks, but that’s something different, isn’t it? What is that?”

  Wrynn leaned up against the nearby wall. “A seal. One that must not be broken.”

  “A seal? As in, it’s preventing something from getting out of...what, your body?”

  Wrynn shook her head. “No, not...well, sort of. My body would be a potential medium for it to escape, but it’s not sealed inside me. Rather, it’s trapped somewhere far away, and my body is one of the locks on its prison. If that lock breaks, my body becomes a gate through which it can flee.”

  Taelien blinked. “And I take it this thing is something terrible?”

  “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.” Wrynn rubbed at her temples. “It has an awful sense of taste. It’s one of the beings that made our world, after all.”

  “No.” Taelien shook his head. “There’s no way. You’re joking.”

  “I wish I was.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “My life would be very different if it was.”

  Taelien held up a hand in a pausing gesture. “You want me to believe you have a worldmaker sealed away somewhere? I know you’re a prime lady, but that should be a few orders of magnitude too difficult, even for you. And they’re supposed to be long dead.”

  “Ah. You’ve got more than a few misconceptions there. There are plenty of dead worldmakers, but I assure you, the ones that made our world are unfortunately quite alive. Some of them, at least.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I’m getting you involved in this. Your parents would never approve.”

  Taelien drew in a breath. “You knew my parents? Wait, which parents?”

  Wrynn waved a hand. “Ah, sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you. I mean the Seven-Branched Sword Deity and the Impervious Forest Goddess. I don’t actually know if you’re their kid. Not definitively. I’m afraid I wasn’t around when you were born.”

  Seven-Branched Sword Deity? I’ve never heard that one. That must be the Artinian name for Aendaryn?

  Taelien frowned, bothered by how little he knew about his supposed parents. “But...you knew them?”

  Wrynn snorted. “Better than most. The Seven-Branched Sword Deity practically adopted me as a teenager.”

  “And you think I might be...”

  Wrynn shrugged. “Maybe. I understand the gods often have difficulty bearing children through conventional means, but your parents were a clever sort. They may have figured something out. Or maybe you’re an ordinary child they found and invested some power in — that can happen. I don’t know that for sure.”

  “Can you tell me about them?” Taelien felt a surge of hope. He’d desperately wanted answers for so long, it was surreal to finally be getting even a hint of them.

  “Can’t tell you much in regards to recent years, but I can share some stories, sure. Probably once we get on the road...but I’m going to need a few days to recover here, first.” She shifted awkwardly. “In fact, I think I need you to walk me back to that pool now.”

  Taelien approached and offered his arm. “Sure, let’s go. But what’s it for?”

  Wrynn took his arm and they began to limp back toward the vault. “How old do you think I am?”

  Taelien tilted his head to the side at the odd question. “...Several hundred? It’s obviously hard to tell with rethri, but if you were adopted by Aendaryn...”

  “I’m probably a bit shy of thirty, at least as far as life lived.” She laughed. “And that’s what the pool is for.”

  “You mean it de-ages you?” Taelien asked.

  “No, no.” She opened the vault doors, and they headed toward the same area they’d used the night before. “It’s a stasis pool.”

  Taelien paused, processing that. “A stasis pool? Wait, you mean something that permanently makes a stasis effect? I know stability sorcery can accomplish v
ery short-term stasis, but...is long-term stasis even possible?”

  She dragged him forward. “Fortunately for me, it is. It’s the only way I’ve found to successfully keep this guy,” she jerked a thumb at her back, “contained for any significant length of time. The longer I’m out in the world, the more he acts up, and the longer I need to put myself into stasis next time to recover.”

  They reached the lift, heading back up to the area with the pool. “So, you put yourself in stasis, and during that time the seal stabilizes?”

  “Exactly. While I’m in stasis, the worldmaker has no way of breaking through, so it sleeps. And during that time, the seal’s integrity recovers a bit. In order to maintain the seal properly, I sometimes have to sleep for years at a time. Occasionally, even decades.”

  “Decades? ...Is that how you lost your box?”

  Wrynn nodded as the lift arrived at the appropriate floor, then headed toward the pool. “Exactly. I’ve always tried to find secure locations for my valuables before I need to sleep, but sometimes I don’t have time. Or, places that are ‘secure’ when I go to sleep are less so when empires rise and fall during my slumber.”

  “That sounds...intensely difficult.” Taelien winced. “Is there no other way?”

  They arrived at the pool. “There’s always another way. I’ve tried hundreds of them, and some have helped. The most effective, however, is reinforcing my spirit.” She raised a hand, displaying one of the markings. “You see these smaller marks, the ones that are separate from the seal?”

  “Yeah. Dominion marks to reinforce your spirit, I take it?”

  She sighed. “I wish. You’re close, but an ordinary dominion mark just draws energy without form. I’ve tried them — and I do have a couple. But they barely help. These ones here that look a little swirlier are more like containers.”

  “For...what, exactly? What do they contain?” Taelien had a feeling he might know the answer, but he was hoping he was wrong.

  “Well, the first set of them are dedications and spirit arts that I’ve acquired over the years. You’d probably call them spirit marks in your nomenclature. They hold pieces of my spirit. The rest...they hold other souls.”