by Kyle Johnson
Aranos grinned at her words. So, there is an Inspection Skill, he thought excitedly. It must be something you have to learn, though. Usually, in games, I just have to focus on what I want to see, and it pops right up. “Oh,” he replied, unsure of what to say. “Well, I never learned that, sorry. I’m sure I can figure it out once we’re back at the Stronghold, though. And no, I’m not a Wizard subclass. Sorcerer is its own Class.”
Her eyes went flat at his words. “You never learned the Inspection Skill,” she repeated disbelievingly. “And you possess some Class of which I have never even heard. I think, once we are settled, we will be having a long discussion, and you will be answering some questions.” Her voice and tone seemed to insinuate to Aranos that this would not be an optional discussion, and suddenly he felt his temper flare.
“When we find somewhere safe,” he snapped back, “maybe it’d be best for you to wait there while I go investigate the edimmu on my own. It’s obvious that you don’t trust me, but you’re expecting me to work with you and put my faith in your ability to protect me? I’ve done fine by myself so far, and I’d honestly rather not have someone at my back – with my weapon no less – who might decide I’m a threat in the middle of a battle.”
Her face reddened as he spoke, and her eyes narrowed dangerously as her grip shifted on the staff. Aranos was tempted to gather his mana, but he realized that would be seen as a threat right now. His armor would protect him if she attacked, and while he didn’t want to hurt her, he wasn’t going to fail his Quest just because she had a temper.
Suddenly, though, the anger in her face drained away, and she turned quickly to the side. “I…I apologize,” she spoke quietly after several moments, her face downcast. “I do not know what is wrong with me. The anger…” She took a breath and looked back at him, and he saw unshed tears glimmering in her eyes. “You have risked much to rescue me,” she went on softly. “I have repaid you with hostility and doubt, despite your vow to protect me. I will do my best to set my doubts aside. There is much about you that begs explanation, however, and it would put me at ease if you were to provide me with one.”
Aranos nodded, relieved at the change in her demeanor. “Once we get settled,” he nodded. “I need to rest, myself, and we can keep watch for one another. First, though, I’ll show you how we’re getting up there. I’ve never done this for 2 people, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”
He considered making a single disc for them both to use, but he realized that to be certain it would support both of their weights, he could only make the disc a bit less than 2 feet wide. That would make for a cramped ride, and the thought of being pressed against the woman while she was dressed only in torn, thin rags was deeply awkward. He was still male, after all, and if he had a certain physical reaction from the contact…well, she was having enough difficulty trusting him as it was. No need to make things worse.
Instead, he fashioned two identical discs, each 18 inches across, and stepped onto one. “Climb on,” he told her grandly, gesturing to the glowing platform. “It’s not the most comfortable ride, but it’s a safe one, I promise.”
The elf woman looked suspiciously at the radiant circle, but seeing him standing easily on top of his, she nodded and cautiously stepped on. “The big thing is to keep your balance,” he warned her as he prepared to lift the two discs. “I can control your platform easily enough if you’re still, but if you start wobbling, it’ll be a lot harder.”
She snorted at his words. “Fear not for that,” she told him brusquely. “I will be fine. I have not lost my balance in years, aleen. So long as you do not drop me, all will be well.”
He shrugged and, with a mental command, began to lift the discs into the air. True to her word, Geltheriel remained perfectly still and balanced even as the disc lurched slightly under his control. She must have a high Agility, he realized as he strained to control both discs. Endurance, too, if she’s been here this long and hasn’t been fully Corrupted. She probably has very few points in her Mental Stats, though, except Perception.
He focused on his task: lifting her as well was proving to be much more difficult than he thought it would. Despite her obviously high Agility, she was constantly making tiny movements to correct her balance, which forced him to continuously work to keep the disc steady. The effort involved made him aware that he, too, was shifting as the disc moved, but that his mind was unconsciously correcting for those movements as he made them. Doing it for someone else was an order of magnitude more difficult.
Still, the trip passed without incident, and Aranos deposited them gently upon a side street, unharmed. Geltheriel glanced around, her eyes scanning for threats, but he dropped his gaze to look for tracks. “Doesn’t look like the edimmu have been here in quite a while,” he observed quietly. “And, I don’t see any signs at all of the gasha. I think if we can just find a building that’s reasonably secure, we should be pretty safe.”
Geltheriel stopped her scan and walked over to stand beside him, gazing down at the tracks. “And you can tell all that from these,” she muttered softly. “Yet another interesting fact about you, aleen. It seems your Tracking Skill is, somehow, higher than mine, despite my having spent my life honing it.” She shook her head and looked around. “In any case,” she went on, her voice only slightly troubled, “although it seems counter-intuitive, if the edimmu are not about, we would do better to move toward the Spire Tree if we wish to find a safe spot. In all elven cities, from time immemorial, wealth and status are displayed by proximity to the center of power.”
“So, wait,” he replied, his mind thinking quickly, “that giant tree is actually the center of the entire city? Is it more impressive to live higher in the city, or lower?”
“It is,” she answered simply. “And higher, of course. The lowest part of an elven city is where the City Gates deposit you upon entrance and the only place where non-elves were traditionally allowed. The higher one moves, the farther one is removed from the lesser races until, at the crown of the Spire Tree, one finds the ruler of the city.”
And that’s where we’ll have to end up going, most likely, Aranos thought. “Okay, thanks,” he said after a moment. “So, we’ll head toward the Spire Tree and look for a mostly intact building, then we’ll discuss what to do next…and how to get out of this place!”
It only took about 30 minutes to find a building that looked secure to Aranos, but it was another 45 minutes before they discovered one that met Geltheriel’s seemingly higher standards. The structure in question was still collapsed, but the façade of the building was fully intact, there were two stories still standing with ceilings, and there was an exit out the back that led to a side street if they needed to escape. Yeah, she’s better at this than me, Aranos acknowledged silently. I was just looking for 4 walls and a ceiling.
It was another 15 minutes before they were settled, since the elf Keeper – Aranos still wasn’t sure what that was – also insisted they scout all the nearby buildings for traces of the edimmu. Fortunately, all the signs Aranos found were old: it looked like the creatures had abandoned this level long before.
Aranos helped the woman erect a sort of screen separating a corner of the upstairs area. Composed of carefully arranged chunks of fallen wood, rotted timbers, and sawdust, the screen made it look as if that entire corner had been buried by rubble. At first, Geltheriel simply snapped order at the aleen, expecting him to follow. After a few minutes of enduring his questions, though, she started to explain what she was doing and why it mattered as they worked, until her design made perfect sense to him. Judging by the blinking notification that appeared in his vision as they finished, his Camouflage Skill had gone up thanks to her instruction.
“Now that we are as safe as possible in a Fallen Land,” Geltheriel began, “perhaps it would be best if we shared information. I would go first, if you do not mind, as it seems my story might be much simpler than yours.” When Aranos said nothing, she continued.
“My name, as you seem to k
now,” she began, “is Geltheriel Laurefindellin. I am a Keeper of the Elven Stronghold of Eredain, albeit one of the youngest and most junior of that esteemed company.
“As you may or may not know,” she explained, “the role of all Keepers is to protect the lands that have not yet Fallen to the Darkness. As a very junior Keeper, I was tasked with watching over a specific part of the forest that, while relatively safe from incursion, held a sacred location, one that was created by our ancestors and given to us to guard and preserve. One day, as I was patrolling, I saw that this location, previously sealed to us, had been opened for the first time in long centuries.
“You can imagine my excitement,” she went on, her face twisted in a self-deprecation grimace. “I rushed back to report this development to my elders, who bade me patrol and guard the location daily. So I did, day after day, until one day, to my shock and anger, I saw tracks leading into the sacred tree, a place that was forbidden to all elves.” She stopped and dropped her head at that point. “I should have returned to the Stronghold,” she admitted quietly. “My duty was to report what I had seen. Yet, I was arrogant and believed myself capable of dealing with any interloper, so I…entered the sacred tree myself, to track down the intruder.”
As he heard her tale, Aranos had a dawning sense of realization. The Traveler’s Trial, he thought grimly. That was the place she was guarding. But, it wasn’t my tracks she saw, so someone must have entered it before me? Maybe that Traveler from the Alpha testing those elves – including the fake Geltheriel, he realized – were talking about in the forest?
“When I entered,” she continued her tale, “I was astounded to see a bridge that led to an arcane door, one which stood unlocked but also unopened. I foolishly approached the door and laid a hand upon it…and as I did, it opened, and I was drawn inside, against my will.” She glanced at Aranos, a hint of fear in her eyes. “You said you went through an Arcane Door, yourself,” she recalled quietly. “I am certain you recall the freezing blackness, how the Corruption filled you and controlled your body and mind until you could battle free. When I finally escaped that icy prison, I found myself chained and being dragged through the city, with some strange elf leading me and a gasha following along behind.”
She swallowed hard at the memory, and he saw a shiver pass through her. “The elf…he taunted me once he realized I was awake,” she said in a voice filled with despair. “He told me that while I was in the darkness that I had been forced to...to do things, things I would never have done.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “For a time, he would visit me each day, reminding me of those things, telling me that, would I just give myself to him willingly, I would be able to eat and drink as much as I wanted. That, should I simply accept the Corruption and give into it, I would be allowed my freedom as…as his concubine.” She choked out the last words, anger and loathing filling her voice.
Her chin rose as she glared at Aranos. “And yet, as you saw, I refused to submit,” she declared, her voice growing stronger. “As you know, one cannot be turned unwillingly to the Darkness, no matter how filled with Corruption they may be. Although I am now Befouled,” she said, glancing down at her arms, “I am still of the Light, still worthy of being a Keeper. And now, we will find this elf, wherever he hides, visit justice upon him, and return to Eredain to destroy the creature wearing my shape and end all of this, one way or the other!” Her last words were delivered in a shout that made Aranos cringe, but at the same time, he stared at her with awe.
How is she still going? he asked himself in amazement. After all of that…I don’t know if I could keep trying. It would have been so easy for her to give up, to end her suffering, but she fought. That’s…freaking amazing, honestly.
“I’m…I’m kind of overwhelmed,” he admitted at last, swallowing as he realized his jaw was hanging open. “That was horrible, what you went through. I mean, horrible isn’t even a good enough word to describe it, really. I don’t even know a word that wouldn’t seem inconsequential compared to what you suffered. I don’t know how you did it, or how you’re still doing it, right now. You…you’re pretty freaking awesome, Geltheriel.”
She smiled at his words. “I am unsure of what that means,” she answered simply, “but as to how…what is the alternative? To lie down and die? No, I will die, eventually, but when I do, it will be with honor and dignity, things that the Darkness cannot take. That is how a Keeper lives, and how she dies, and that is what I am.”
He felt his eyes brim at her quiet courage, and he looked away to calm his emotions. “Okay,” he said after a few, long moments. “Can I ask a few questions? You don’t have to answer them, and I promise they won’t be personal,” he assured her quickly, seeing her eyes narrow. After a few seconds, she hesitantly nodded.
“The elf,” he began, noticing her face tighten at the words. “You said you didn’t know him, right? So, does that mean he wasn’t from the Stronghold?”
She sighed. “It does not,” she admitted. “We Keepers spend our days in the Forest and do not associate much with others outside of our duty. There are thousands of elves in Eredain; I do not have the conceit to believe I would recognize a tenth of them.”
He nodded. That would make sense; there were only a couple hundred people working in the Neo-Dyne building, but he only knew a handful of them outside of his area. It wouldn’t make sense that everyone would know one another in a city of thousands, especially when they worked apart from the populace. “Okay, so this door,” he continued. “How do you think it got opened? Do you think it just stood unlocked all that time?”
She shook her head at his words. “The door...” she hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily. “It is foolish not to extend some trust at this point. The door, aleen, was meant to be opened by a Traveler, as part of a Trial that would determine their identity for the People to acknowledge. It was taught to us that, when the Traveler passed through the Arcane Door, they would be transported to the center of the Stronghold, their arrival announced to all by magic, and in this way, we would know that the Travelers were at last among us.
“Before you ask,” she held up a forestalling hand, “yes, there was a Traveler who came to the Stronghold, and no, they were not the one who imprisoned me. The Traveler who came was…she was not what we had been taught to expect from a Traveler.
“We found her, wandering in the forest, and when she told us what she was, we welcomed her with joy and celebration,” Geltheriel explained, her lips twisting bitterly. “As all the races have been told, the coming of the Travelers is supposed to be a time for renewal, the start of reclaiming the Fallen Lands.
“Yet,” she grimaced, “this Traveler was not there to help, not that any could tell. She was cruel, quick to violence, and demanded favors and gifts in her name. She attacked any who she felt slighted her, and any hesitation to accede to her demands was a slight. Eventually, we cast her out of the Stronghold rather than sending her through the Trials; for it is said that completing the Trials grants a Traveler power, and we wished that foul creature to have no extra power or ability.”
“Still,” he offered, “it sounds like she found the Trials by herself, right? I mean, unless some other Traveler stumbled into them. That would explain why the door was unlocked: the Traveler had gone through the Trials already.”
Geltheriel nodded. “That is in my mind, as well,” she said heavily. “I believe she found the Trials, completed them, stepped through the door, and found herself here, where she was probably devoured by a gasha or the edimmu and was hopefully reborn far away. Yet, by not completing her Trials, she left the door unlocked, and that allowed the other elf – and me – to be caught up in this place.” Aranos nodded; that did seem like the most likely scenario, although he imagined that the doors were left unlocked because the AI’s wanted them to be so. No doubt, the other elf and this woman had been led here by the AI’s to further the questline he was on, and the Traveler passing through was the trigger that started the whole quest. Does
that mean that she visited Lythienne’s memories, too? he wondered, half-hopefully. If that’s the case, then maybe her memories are still there, waiting for the next Traveler? That thought comforted him a bit.
“And now, for your story,” the elf finished, a little firmly. “Where are you from, that you are unaware of so many simple things, yet so skilled in others? What is a Sorcerer, and how did one of such a low level – no offense intended, but you are indeed low-leveled – defeat an immortal gasha?”
Aranos took a deep breath, debating internally what to tell her. He was certain that he could make up a story, something about his fay parent raising him and not educating him in the ways of the world, but he’d seen enough TV and movies to know how that ended. It’s kind of a cliché, he thought ruefully. The hero lies about their true past to the trusted companion because the companion ‘wouldn’t understand’, then the truth eventually comes out – usually when the main villain reveals it, hoping to drive the companions apart – and there’s all this awkward ‘I can’t trust you’, ‘I did it for you’ stuff. Nope, not doing that.
“Well, there’s a good reason for all of that,” he finally said. “See, I came here through the same door you did, Geltheriel. The difference is, it was locked when I arrived, and the Trials were reset. I’m actually here finishing the Traveler’s Trials because, well, I’m a Traveler, myself.” He cringed as he said it and saw her flinch back from him.
She gazed at him stonily for a minute or two, and he endured it in silence. Finally, though, she relaxed. “I am tempted to ask for proof,” she said a moment later. “As in, allow me to kill you and show me that you come back. And, yet, it occurs to me that, one way or another, I believe there will be proof eventually. For, if this is truly part of the Trials, then if you are not a Traveler, you will fail and die…and so will I, in all likelihood. So, I find myself in the position where I choose to believe you, as this gives me hope that we may see Eredain once more.”