Also, wow, thanks for using Clade! I really like what you did with him in that bit of supplementary information! It gives him a presence in the story without actually, you know, having him in the story. It's pretty cool, really.
I'm also wondering what sort of person was in Metal's memory... most intriguing...
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
After an unfortunatley long break, Metal chases after Sorinne!
Chapter 2, Part 2
Something hidden on this plane… Metal couldn’t remember that in specific without more, but it felt important, a grave weight lingering over the very mention of it. She crouched, leapt, and shot into the sky.
The world unfolded below Metal, and she felt a thrill deep inside. She could stay in the air forever and be content, though her purpose pushed her onward to the west. The landscape was painted by the fading sun in vivid violet, crimson, gold. Down on the ground, the sky alone had such beauty but above it was all around her. She was free, and at home in that element.
As the night wore on. Metal focused again at the task at hand. She was fast – far faster than anyone on foot could be, but her foe was small and distant below, and Metal did not know exactly where to pick up the trail. All the same, when she could be mistaken for an Aridon, it was decently safe to speak to ordinary folk, so if she happened to spot the fires or selves of any travelers she might descend and ask for a hint of her foe’s direction.
Soon enough, she spotted one, beside the road towards the mountains of the west. She descended from the sky, hoping her appearance would not frighten anyone she encountered, and discovered to her slight surprise that her quarry was there, amidst some three rough-looking people in drab clothes.
That woman looked up at Metal as Metal landed. In her eyes, there was a strange sorrow.
“You should have stayed hiding.” She said
“I want answers!” Metal demanded, “I don’t even know your name, much less why you want to kill me.”
“My name is Sorinne.” She said, “As for why we fight you… the Ythol Annulus. You kept it from one of us before, and now that one would be sure you will not again oppose us.”
“I don’t even know what that is!” Metal shouted, “All I know, which I know thanks to you, is that you would murder those who have done you no wrong. For that reason alone I would oppose you.”
For a long moment, Sorinne seemed to think. Her body shuddered a time or two, and Metal realized that now would be a good time to strike… bodies of flesh and bone were so very fragile, they could be broken easily…
But it wasn’t in Metal to strike. In her short time in the light Sorinne had wronged her gravely, but still she could not bring herself to do it, and again the doubt crept into her mind, wondering what kind of woman she had been before. She might not have been better than Sorinne before, but she resolved that she was going to be now.
“I believe you.” Sorinne said, “And we offer you this: Swear a binding oath to not interfere in our doings, and we will permit you to continue to exist, or else you will die.”
“First,” Metal said, “I want to know what this… Ythol Annulus is.”
“The Annulus…” Sorinne began, but then she stopped, staggered, and gritted her teeth.
“Do not seek it.” Sorinne said, “I’m begging you, accept our offer. I don’t want to kill you.”
“You didn’t do a very good job last time.” Metal said disdainfully, “What makes you think you can manage now?”
“We’ve thought on that.” Sorinne said, “Your body seems impervious to heat and electricity. Red magic was always my specialty, though, and it can be adapted. Trust me that if we fight, it will go very differently.”
Metal closed her eyes.
“Let me consider.” She said.
Ythol Annulus… If Metal could remember it, she could determine how important this fight might be. If she could just remember anything, she could know how to proceed!
This strange woman, Sorinne, spoke with great sincerity when she spoke of herself. When she spoke of ‘we’, her voice was different. It was a mystery that, like the Ythol Annulus, Metal did not have the time to entirely unravel. All the same, she needed something, anything! Even the barest glimpse of memory…
“We have given you as much time as we will.” Sorinne said, “We need your answer.”
“We do not have much time.” A strange woman said. “Or the fate of Ythol will be shared by all. The Annulus must be stopped.”
Metal snapped back to the present.
“I’m afraid I must refuse.” She said. Quickly, she leapt back, firing her jets to put some space between her and Sorinne. Before Metal recovered her bearings, the first spell hit her. That was alright, she’d yet to be damaged by…
She felt her knee sieze up. She looked – ice?!
Sure enough, it was a wave of cold that had struck her. Metal felt she could survive such an attack, but if she couldn’t move…
She focused on Sorinne, ready to counter as she reached a hand to the afflicted joint. The red mana jets for her flight stabilizers burned hot, she could restore function to her leg if she had the time.
Sorinne’s body convulsed, and as she pulled upon a swell of mana it seemed for all the world that she might have been in the throes of a seizure. Metal looked at the threads of her casting and carefully swept her own through to disrupt them with the barest touch of blue mana.
One thing Metal had learned in the intervening days had been how to be more efficient with her counters. The older magic, unlocked by plumbing the depths of her mind was stronger.
But now each of Sorinne’s attacks was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to miss one.
With her free hand and a swirl of magic, Metal intercepted the next blast of cold and sent it rebounding upon its caster. Sorinne moved quickly, but not quickly enough, and it struck her right side. As she fell, Metal stood tall, her knee thawed and moving again.
Slowly, Metal approached her foe. Sorinne lay still on the ground, her shirt torn and her side dusted with rime. Was she dead? She certainly seemed to be. The other humans were cowering in fear, and gave Metal plenty of space. She knelt down beside Sorinne and reached out.
That was when Sorinne struck. She moved with unnatural rapidity, and though her spell was small it came too quickly and the bitter cold washed over her face. Metal turned to the side, and her right took the brunt of the spell.
Pain! Even when Metal’s leg had been hit, it felt nothing like this! Her world collapsed, and she screamed with a force she didn’t know she could. Her vision blurred, went dark, and she felt that she was somehow going to lose consciousness.
She felt like she was going to die.
Instinct took over , and her scream was swallowed by the Blind Eternities. The world reappeared, hazy and indistinct though she felt she was somewhere wild, perhaps amidst ruins. Still she felt agony and she clutched her right eye desperately.
Slowly, the pain subsided from the sharp shock to an agonizing ache that still threatened to consume her, and rational thought returned to Metal. Her vision was flat, unclear. Her eyes were swimming with tears.
No, her eye was. Her left eye saw the world through a watery haze, but her right eye, the one that had been struck, the one the pain was coming from, couldn’t see at all.
It was fine, Metal tried to tell herself, it would pass, she could repair it. Her history was so long, surely any part of her had been broken before. But, somehow, she couldn’t believe it. The eye felt different, like it was somehow more a part of her than any she had worked on.
What was special about her eyes?
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"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
Additionally, Chapter 3 will introduce our last character (for a while, at least). Like Mattias, this character's color identity will be a little up in the air. Since he came out blue, Let's go with any (two color) identity that doesn't include blue.
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"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
With around a day left (a little less) until the poll closes, black/green is ahead by a single vote over Red/Black, Red/Green, and White/Red. Exciting! (actually, I'm wondering if I had enough audience to really warrant an audience participation story. Is the pace too slow? Too fast? Well, I'm going to carry it on to the end of this story no matter what. I actually like it, it's a challenge Fun and interesting.)
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"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
Narissa Enshar was feeling good. True, she was in a strange place surrounded by strange people with little more to her name than the clothes on her back and the weapons on her belt. But that wasn’t an odd situation for a planeswalker, and Narissa Enshar knew how to find a market for her skills in nearly any land.
After all, Narissa was a woman of many talents, as her array of blades attested – the simple, elegant sickle served as a focus for her green magic, and no small town would fail to reward at least with grain and a roof the woman who could cause their crops to grow fruitful. The kris, on the other hand, with its thirteen-curved blade, asymmetrical base, and ornate handle and sheath was an implement for Sanguimancy whether she used it to draw her own blood to heal or harm the lives of others or to shed the blood of victims and replenish her own life. The other blades, a kukri and a small gladius, had a much more obvious purpose, assassination. That was a skill that there was always someone in need of, and they paid better for it than for magic. That, along with thieving and spying, would do Narissa a good turn in large cities and peaceful times if she absolutley needed them.
As it was, the town wasn’t huge, but neither was it particularly small. The population looked to be mostly human, possibly entirely. They also looked like the fearful, repressed rural types that would appreciate green magic and nothing else, so that was what she advertised, proclaiming her skill by making a tree in the center square shower the place in blossoms and loudly announcing her skill and willingness to employ it for a price.
Oddly, there was surprisingly little response to her display. Did they have a lot of mages here, or were they somehow wary? She decided to start rattling off the places she’d been and the thing’s she’d done – on other planes, perhaps, but the names sounded impressive enough for most folk.
At that, the minor crowd that had gathered began to quickly disperse… all except one. That one was a woman about Narissa’s age, with very long brown hair, fair skin, and icy blue eyes. She wore traveling clothes quite unlike the garb of most of the townsfolk, and as Narissa watched her approach she thought she could make out familiar patterns of stain from the road and other dealings. This woman, whoever she was, was not a simple rube.
She could be a problem.
She could be an opportunity.
“Greetings.” The other woman said, her voice both firm and soft, neutral in tone and largely free of accent.
“Well,” Narissa said, “You’ve heard the pitch, what’ll it be?”
Best to start with business.
“I heard much.” The woman said, “My name is Sorinne. We have business for a fellow… traveler, if you are interested.”
“Representing something?” Narissa asked. It was hard to tell with other planeswalkers, whether or not they were just weird.
“In a manner of speaking. Narissa, correct? Perhaps we should talk about the details in more privacy.”
“Sure.” Narissa said, stepping down, “We can do that.”
At this, Sorinne lead to the edge of town, and a dark grove with many overgrown marble pillars. They stopped next to a stature, somewhat overtaken by moss, of a human-like woman with a regal bearing, crowned with many-pronged horns that reached up to the sky.
“Do you know what this is?” Sorinne asked
Narissa shrugged, “Some local goddess, I’d reckon, and not one who gets a lot of love.”
Sorinne nodded. “That’s true.” She said, “But this goddess was also a Planeswalker. Did you know that a scant hundred years ago, we might as well have been gods? I have trouble even imagining it, but I know it was true. Not omnipotent were the Planeswalkers of old, but very mighty, immortal barring accidents, and proud. So very proud.”
“Is this going somewhere?” Narissa asked.
“Actually,” Sorinne said, “It is. You see, this woman, this old planeswalker, had quite a lot to do with this world. She guided its people and shaped in some part their culture… and she hid something here, knowing that her disciples would protect it in her absence. She’s dead now, as far as we can tell, but what she hid remains. We want you to find it.”
Narissa folded her arms over her chest “Lost artifact?” she asked, “Not usually my idiom. What makes you think I’m the woman for the job?”
“The old planeswalker used green magic exclusively,” Sorinne said, “Which means you, unlike myself, would be familiar with any old magic you come across.”
“Good, good…”
“And,” Sorinne said, “We noticed that you’re not outfitted just as a druid. You’re a warrior of some description. We don’t think this is alien to you.”
Narissa smiled. Canny, this Sorinne, or whoever she was working with. Of course, that meant the job could be quite a lot of trouble. If she and whoever else couldn’t do it, could Narissa?
Of course she could, she reminded herself. She was the best.
“You’re talking to the right girl.” Narissa said with a smile, “Tell me about this whatever-it-is.”
Sorinne looked down. “It’s one of three pieces of an ancient and powerful artifact. The full artifact is an annulus – a flat, circular ring – about two feet in outer diameter. It will be made of a dull, grey metal with an inlay of opalescent crystal. So what you’re looking for is a segment of that ring.”
“And its powers?”
“Without the other two pieces, nothing. So nothing you should have to worry about.”
“Okay,” Narissa said, “And where am I supposed to find it?”
“To the best of our knowledge,” Sorinne said, “It’s in a sanctum that this woman-“ she touched the statue “considered her base of operations. I believe it is west of here, as worship of her as the horned goddess is stronger the further west you go. But likely not too far. Believe me, If we knew anything more about its whereabouts or defenses, I would tell you.”
“Okay sweetie.” Narissa said, hoping a compliment would put Sorinne in a good mood, “Now we’ve got to talk about pay. Make me an offer.”
“Between planeswalkers,” Sorinne said, “I can offer a favor, more valuable than gold. When the artifact is complete, you could be made ruler of a sizable domain.”
“Thanks.” Narissa said, “But I’d prefer some precious metals in my pocket. I can’t spend a favor on booze.”
Sorinne stood still for a moment, then shuddered and shook her head. She reached into her pack and drew out a few large, oblong gold coins, holding them out to Narissa.
Narissa took one of the coins. It would certainly pass muster for a pretty chunk of change, though perhaps better if she just melted it down, since merchants didn’t value currency they didn’t know the provenance of very well.
“We can give you ten now.” Sorinne said, “Which should be more than enough to cover your expenses. Upon returning the fragment to me, we’ll be prepared with another ten thousand.”
Narissa mulled over the figure. It was high, but when land was the first offer, perhaps high was something Sorinne thought she could afford. There were certainly artifacts in the planes worth ten thousand big gold coins, or even far, far more. If Sorinne paid off, it was the score of a lifetime, and if she didn’t?
She was right. Ten coins like that was enough for modest living for some time, and quite a lot of equipment at the right market. Narissa wouldn’t have lost anything, and if Sorinne backed out, well, she could probably take the artifact right back and find someone who would pay for it. It wouldn’t be the first time Narissa double crossed someone who tried to double cross her either.
“Okay,” Narissa said, “You’ve got a deal.”
***
No new vote for now (though there will be one later in this chapter), I just feel like giving a content update
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"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
A week later, Narissa’s feet hurt and her faith in her employer’s words was slowly waning. While she had, indeed, found more and more honored references to the Horned Goddess as she traveled west, she had not found anyone who could tell her in what land such a being dwelled, or even had dwelt.
Indeed, after the first week it seemed that Sorinne was badly mistaken, and that the Horned Goddess was a purely mythical figure. Still, she had only needed to make change for two of the coins Sorinne had given her, owing to gold having a good value on this plane even more than upon others, and thus Narissa saw little reason to abandon her quest before it was unprofitable to continue.
On the eighth day, however, when Narissa wandered into yet another pathetic little town of farmers and hunters and asked yet again after the Horned Goddess first as a deity and then as a living being, that Narissa got an interesting answer.
It was in the squalid village green, a decaying, worm-eaten pagoda with peeling pale paint that Narissa chatted with a young man of the town. He was more focused on her neckline than anything else, but answered questions very eagerly. When she asked where, if anywhere, the Horned Goddess might be found, he said that there was a monastery deep in the woodlands said to be her seat in the mortal world, and an overlook from which one could glimpse its ivied walls that was stunning in the moonlight.
Narissa did not dispel whatever romantic notions the boy may have had, but consoled herself that she never said she entertained them either, and asked to be taken to the overlook. The young man quickly obliged.
There was a path up to the overlook, though poorly groomed and fading into the undergrowth, the record of centuries-old cobbles still thinned the foliage where the paving once had been, leaving a clear impression of direction as well as of relative disuse. The walk along it, thankfully with her guide being relatively quiet in what Narissa assumed was awkward uncertainty, took the better part of three or four hours, so that the sun was setting when the path lead through a cave with a floor that had long ago been leveled, a tunnel that passed through, with a single bend, some twenty yards of rock before emerging onto a cliff face above deep woods.
There, as the sun set across the woodlands, painting the green trees with gold and crimson, Narissa saw the clear outline of a structure in the distance, a spiraling tower swallowed by massive growths.
“That’s it?” Narissa asked, pointing out at the ruin, or what looked like it might be a ruin.
“It is.” The boy said, “They say she lived there, maybe still lives there. But that’s not all you came out here for, is it?”
Narissa rolled her eyes.
“Look.” She said, “I come into town, asking questions about the horned goddess, ask to see the answer when you give it to me, never tell you more than you ask, don’t even bother to remember your name, and you think I came out here for you?”
She laughed.
“You’re cute,” she said, “But you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
At that, Narissa reached out to the vines that clung to the side of the cliff below, forming a stairway down and out of sight, towards the forest floor and the Arcadian tower. Without even really looking, she walked out and took the first step. When she was on the third, she released those behind, ensuring there would be no foolish pursuit. When the vines of the cliff could no longer reach out, she called the trees up, and with their aid began her trek onward into the night.
information
I exist, but with a weak, unstable signal for now.
_________________
"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
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