by Noah Layton
‘Alorion, return to me. Bring that talented tongue of yours back here.’
My imp looked back over at me, his mouth clasped shut, mirroring my own flat expression.
‘I didn’t need to hear that,’ I said, then burst out laughing. Even Alorion managed a laugh. ‘Two things - I’m going for a tour of the land with Artrix. If anything goes wrong I’ve told the girls to meet you here. Keep your wits about you.’
‘Of course, Jack. And the second matter?’
‘My wives travel in that wagon. Clean it out when you’re done… Doing whatever you’re doing.’
‘Absolutely, Master Jack.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you not to call me master?’
‘I know, but I thought in this instance it was justified.’
I shook my head and laughed, setting off to return across the land while Alorion returned to his business.
Artrix met me before I even made it out of the stables.
‘I thought it best to meet you,’ he announced. ‘Our destination is not far from here.’
‘And where would our destination be?’
‘Somewhere that I am both deeply proud and profoundly ashamed of.’ He scanned me for a moment, then nodded to himself and turned. ‘Come, join me.’
Together we crossed through the land until we reached the eastern side. The land of the sun-elves was considerably bigger than my own, at least three times more so than the area that mine covered, but as I crossed through the quiet patches of land, past houses and other buildings, I began to wonder if we were heading beyond the borders of the tribal land.
Soon, though, hidden beneath two bowing trees right at the edge of the land, just a few yards from the fence, we reached a structure unlike anything I had seen before.
Two large stone columns, perfectly carved into cylinders, held up a long stone bar that stretched horizontally. I couldn’t imagine the kind of logistics it would take to put something that heavy in place.
The stone columns and the connecting bar between them were akin to those hanging over a well, and just like a well there was a gap beneath the stones that descended into the earth.
A pair of guards stood blocking the entrance, holding spears in their hands.
The moment Artrix came into view, they both stepped aside.
‘What is this place?’ I asked, slowing my pace and looking down to the darkened hole ahead.
‘Something I would very much like to show you.’
Artrix crossed to the hole and stopped before it, turning to look back at me.
‘I promise that I mean you no harm. If it were in my interest, I could have my guards kill you here, but it is not in my interest.’
I said the summon word for my Dagger of Concealment in my head.
I calculated how quickly it would take to draw my Telekinetic Blast stone and wipe all of them out.
The weight of my sword suddenly registered on my waist.
I cleared my throat and stepped forward, following Artrix into the unknown.
I could turn around and walk away, but morbid curiosity got the better of me.
The hole wasn’t a straight drop. A series of carved stone steps descended into the earth, and as we disappeared into the darkness and escaped the light of the early evening, Artrix lit a torch from his inventory.
‘I am not a proud man, Master Jack,’ he started, lighting a series of torches in holsters in the wall as we headed further down the steps. ‘I know that our ways may seem proud to you, but it is not self-preservation that motivates me.’
‘Not self-preservation?’ I asked. ‘No offence, but that statue of yours that you just dropped 18,000GP on doesn’t make it seem like you’re not trying to preserve yourself.’
Artrix laughed genuinely.
‘I can see how such a thing would come across as unusual. But it would be better if you saw such things for yourself down here. There is a reason that we are heading beneath the earth…’
He continued to light torches as we moved along our way. The further we descended, the more I began to think back to Werger and our descent into the mine beneath his land.
Later that night I had slammed a blade through his neck after killing his tribe and almost being choked to death.
Even if things seemed to be going reasonably well here, I prayed that it wouldn’t turn out the same way.
Finally the ground levelled out. The firelight was strong, but it didn’t reach far enough to give me any inclination of where I was; the room we were standing in stretched off ahead, the flickers of the flames occasionally shedding light onto another foot or two of space.
Artrix touched the flame to a long piece of stone, jutting horizontally from the corridor wall.
Whatever was within the stone alcove ignited immediately. It raced up the corridor, stretching for what seemed to be at least 50 yards.
As it caught fire, the corridor became visible in all its grimness. The stone roof and walls were ancient and worn, as if they had stood the test of time resiliently for hundreds of years, perhaps longer.
While one side was drenched in fire, the other was occupied by its own series of alcoves. Looking ahead, I counted ten or eleven before I lost sight of what lurked beyond.
Wordlessly, the sun-elf tribe master put out his torch and set off down the corridor, stopping at the first alcove.
The statue of himself now resided there, standing tall and proud.
‘What is your opinion of the craftsmanship?’ He asked.
‘I don’t know much about masonry or sculpting, but… I’m guessing this isn’t the kind of thing that can be created using the tribal system?’
‘Indeed it is not. Such things must be created by hand.’
‘Well, for your people to accomplish something like this in just a few days, I have to say that I’m pretty impressed.’
‘I shall pass on your appreciation’ Artrix smiled. ‘Listen; out there we are the figureheads, the leaders, the masters of our own small civilisations, but down here we can speak about matters more…’
‘Casually?’ I answered.
‘Indeed.’
‘Well, I appreciate you not holding up too much of a façade with me. Anyway, if that’s the case, let me ask you one thing; why the hell do you keep something this well-made down here in the dark? This is some of the finest craftsmanship I’ve ever seen, at least in Agraria. Shouldn’t it be on display out there, for your people to see?’
‘The sun-elves of Morelia have occupied this land for hundreds of years. Even during the Great War, my father, Laxis, staved off intruders with a fighting force renowned for their efficiency and ferocity. He never made it through those times, and I was but a young soldier, suddenly in command of a tribe of thousands.’
I followed him to the next alcove, where another statue resided. This sun-elf was a little younger than Artrix was now, with battered armor and a sword carved to reflect the guts of enemies dripping from it.
All of that aside, the resemblance between Artrix and his father was clear.
‘Thousands…?’ I said, holding back a gulp. ‘Is that really how many you have upon this land? Or are they assigned to other sections of land under your control?’
‘327 by my count now. Our numbers are much smaller than they were prior to the war. Most of our population was eviscerated during that time, but in the wake of its end we managed to struggle onwards. Twenty years later here we are… We are a shadow of our former glory, but my father always used to say that true reparations never occur quickly. Building a civilisation is a slow process. It cannot be rushed, but sometimes outside forces require you to speed things up. That is why I do not seek to involve myself too much with what goes on beyond our borders.’
‘You don’t have any other land?’
‘We have a very small number of outposts, but this is our primary stronghold. Interfering with the politics of others is what led to the war in the first place.’
‘I see,’ I replied. ‘And this?’
I pointed to the array of statues. ‘Is this your idea of self-preservation, or…?’
‘It is not a practice that I agree with, but one that I feel obligated to. Ever since the beginning of our tribe centuries ago, each master has had a statue of themselves made in the wake of their death.’
‘But… You’re still alive.’
‘I am… But I will not be for long.’
‘You’re… What?’
Artrix paused and looked up at the statue of his father.
‘Our people have a strange relationship with death. We are capable of living lives much longer than many of those in Agraria, but we are still susceptible to the ailments of others; infections, wasting diseases, the sharpened edge of a blade… We are not gods. None are that walk the surface of this world. And I am no different.’
Artrix reached up to his shoulder, pulling the side of his gown down slightly around his neck to expose a wound over his collarbone.
The once-broken flesh had healed, but his a large patch of his yellowed skin had begun to turn green, and black lines were stemming out from the centre, as if his veins were rotting beneath the surface.
‘What happened?’ I asked quietly, my words echoing up the corridor.
‘We were attacked, right here upon our land, only a few weeks ago. There is a tribe of wood-elves many miles west of here.’
‘Wait, wood-elves?’
‘You know of them?’
‘I ran into one just a little while back. I was heading downriver from Ichabod’s Cove by the Black Patch.’
‘Were you hurt?’
‘No. My wife, Lara, is very adept with a bow. She made short work of him.’
‘I see. They sometimes stray from their tribe. There are smaller pockets of their people stationed at posts across the land. Well, I state people – they are more akin to animals in their ways. There are rumours that they eat their own dead, and feast upon animals while they are still alive.’
My skin crawled at the thought.
‘A friend who knows of them once told me that they think quite highly of themselves.’
Artrix scoffed. ‘They did once. That has not been the case for years. There ways have changed.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Who can say? Often communities and civilisations become just that over time – more civil. But they have become so much worse in my lifetime.’
‘And how are you so sure of your…’
I hesitated, not knowing how to ask a man in such a straightforward way about the matter at hand.
‘My death? You may say the word.’
‘Yes, your death. That wound looks awful, but there isn’t a cure?’
‘Not in this instance. The wood-elves sometimes dip their weapons into krax-leaf so that even if they do not achieve a killing blow, deadly poison still seeps into the bloodstream. A small troop of wood-elves carried out an attack on us some weeks ago. It was directed at myself specifically. They were killed in the process, but my death has now been guaranteed.’
Now it made sense why there were so many guards on-duty along the watchtowers.
At that moment, footsteps began to echo against the stone floor behind us by the entrance.
I spun around, expecting to see one of the sun-elf guards crossing to us, but instead I found myself being approached by the last person I expected.
‘Father?’
Mariana, Artrix’s daughter, stopped before us, her intricately patterned dress flowing behind her in a flurry. She stood tall, almost matching my height.
‘You are needed at the celebrations, father,’ she said curtly. Her eyes didn’t even register me, not even peripherally.
‘Very well,’ Artrix smiled. ‘Mariana, would you mind reciting a little history for our guest in my absence?’
‘Of course not, father.’ Still, she didn’t look at me.
‘Excuse me.’ The leader of the sun-elves turned to me and nodded. ‘I shall return shortly.’
‘Absolutely,’ I replied.
Artrix swept down the corridor and back up the steps. While his daughter’s footsteps had moved audibly, his didn’t; he moved silently, stealthily.
Without even realising, Mariana had moved by my side to the statue of her grandfather.
‘Laxis led our people through the war fearlessly, doing what any leader should do. In his final year he did have something of a taste for too much moonseed…’
She began talking like every single line was learned and rehearsed. I may as well have been wearing a pair of experienced on in a virtual tour.
‘Next is my great-grandfather, Ayiris...’
‘Wait, wait…’ I interrupted, holding a hand up. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Finally Mariana actually looked at me, her face a little shocked.
‘What would you mean by that?’
‘I mean, you come down here and start reeling off the family history like a machine. You can talk to me like a normal person, you know?’
‘Can I?’ She said slyly, smiling seductively. ‘Why is that?’
‘Because I couldn’t care in the slightest about whatever image you’re trying to present of yourself. Your father said that behind the scenes you can speak a little more casually.’
‘He did?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘My… That must mean that he has taken to you considerably.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because he hardly ever invites other tribe masters, never mind their wives and their imps, onto the land. What exactly did he tell you about our people?’
‘Only that he usually leaves the outside world to its own devices and worries about what’s going on inside his walls, not outside.’ I decided not to tell her that I was weary about why I’d been allowed in in the first place.
‘All true,’ Mariana replied. ‘Anything else…?’
I paused, wondering if I should bring up what we had just spoken about.
‘Right before you came down here he told me that he was dying. I don’t know if he meant it or not, but he said it pretty casually.’
Mariana’s eyeline dropped to the ground, but the rest of her head didn’t follow it. She quickly looked back up to me.
‘He… is dying. My kind have always taken a noble approach to such a serious matter, and my father is no different. His father and all of our ancestors that you see carved here in bluestone knew that their lives would sometimes be forfeit in return for defending our people, but that war was inevitable.
‘These lands have confronted so many battles in the past thousand years that it can become hard to keep track. Inevitably, though, the world beneath finds a way of healing the scars and returning to the land that sentient beings have marked with swords and weapons and fire.’
‘Wow…’ I replied, a little stupidly. ‘I think I can sympathise with your father. If he really is dying, he must be preparing your brother to take over the role once the time comes.’
‘Indeed he is.’ Mariana exhaled briefly, then clasped her lips together as she looked up at the statue of her grandfather. ‘It is always the case that the eldest will inherit the position of tribe master; such is the nature of a dynasty, I suppose. I just… I sometimes think that my brother is far too stern for the role.’
‘You’re telling me...’ I caught my tongue – I had been watching my words around Artrix but around Mariana I suddenly felt that I could speak my mind a little more. She was nowhere near the spoilt heir – or spare in this case - that I had assumed she would be. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your brother. It’s just…’
‘He comes across a tad imposing? Yes. He is trying to fill my father’s boots before they are even empty. Do not worry yourself; I shall not say a word to either of them.’
‘You say that, but it doesn’t make it true.’
‘What does a tribe master have other than their word?’
I laughed a little.
‘Speaking like that it seems like you already see yourself in the
role.’
‘Honestly? It is likely because… Well, I do.’
My eyebrows raised with surprise.
‘Really?’
‘Of course.’ She shot me a look. ‘Oh, please. You are a tribe master. You do not gain the position you are in, much less keep it, without being able to read people to some extent. Maybe not as well my father – that is a skill that he does not exploit nearly as well as he should.’
‘So that is the way it is? You want to be in charge?’
‘Unquestionably. I love my brother, but he is far too headstrong a person to lead a tribe successfully.’
‘Being headstrong is one of the first things you have to be.’
‘Perhaps, but you must be balanced. A military leader often becomes a dictator, and dictators always suffer terrible ends.’
‘Your brother wouldn’t end up a dictator, surely.’
‘Perhaps not, be he is filled with strength and energy, and often acts before thinking. Making rash decision when leading people is a fast way to kill more than just yourself… Good gods, listen to me, why am I telling you all of this? I am supposed to be recounting history to you.’
‘Do you always do everything that your father tells you to?’
‘If it puts me in good standing with him.’
‘You’re his daughter, why wouldn’t you be in good standing with him?’
‘I should rephrase… Perhaps some small part of me hopes that he will see that I am a better fit for the role of tribe master than my brother.’
‘What if you are?’
‘It would make no difference. Look along this corridor – there is a thousand years’ worth of tradition right before you. Nothing shall change.’
I looked back along the hallway, seeing the edges of the line of blue statues as it stretched into the distance.
‘That long, huh?’ It was a number I almost struggled to comprehend.
‘Oh, yes. We have artefacts that are even older, though.’
I spun to look at her. ‘Seriously?’
‘Did my father not tell you? They are his most prized possessions.’
‘Where are they?’
‘Down here, locked in a sub-chamber. He is respectful of the lineage of our tribe, but much more respectful of those things that exemplify the true history of Agraria. Would you like to see them?’