What's this feeling?
It's a new one for me.
I felt something like it before, but it's like comparing a papercut to a fatal stab wound. It feels all the more real now. All the more urgent.
I felt something similar when my dad found out I had terrible grades my sophomore year, and I watched as he slowly pulled into our driveway from my bedroom window. I'd gone and tried to hide the fact I was failing in half my classes, but a little birdie told him otherwise. As to who told him, it didn't matter. What mattered is that he knew.
That emotion I felt, when he got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and stormed into the house… I'm feeling that same emotion now.
The feeling of dread.
Here, now, I'm staring out a window, one set behind crossing bars to keep intruders and wayward projectiles out. I'm looking out over the dark waters of the southern horizon underneath a waxing moon, taking steady breaths as the feeling of dread overtakes me.
Not fear, like when fighting Roard.
Not terror, like when running from the Sentinel.
Dread, in knowing that by this time tomorrow, everyone in this room with me could be dead.
They could all be no more.
Behind my turned back, stressed and angered voices are shouting at one another, growling and bellowing like a political debate gone haywire. This ravenous gathering is supposed to be a "strategy meeting", but it quickly wandered from that. Everyone here has far too conflicting views this time around.
I hear Edgar's voice, I hear Drew's too. Neil is here, wearing a strange metal mask I've never seen on him before. Other soldier's voices add to the chaos as well; I for one decided to remove myself from it.
I got them all together, I gave the news and the number of the enemy. I did all I knew how to do, and I was left behind in the subsequent talks. I've already argued in this room before, this room that smells of rowa berries. I gave a good idea, using the trebuchets to get rid of the misbegotten bodies. I earned a sliver of respect for that stunt, but that's in the past now.
I don't know warfare.
I know how to swing a sword.
Their discussions quickly evolved into battle plans, how best to use their city and something about coaxing the enemy into designated points to attack. The apparent assault I joined yesterday was Neil's idea, chipping away at the enemy column and using the nearby buildings for cover. The initial plan that Edgar led which nearly spelt victory for the castle was Neil's as well; it took place a day before Kalé and I arrived.
Basically, Neil is a good planner, and he knows how to utilize an outnumbered army.
But I don't like the look in his eyes, practically shining past that eternally grinning mask of his. He's wondering if we should cut our losses. He's wondering if Castle Morne should evacuate now.
Edgar has the opposite look; he's itching for a fight. Remorse clings to his bloodshot eyes, but there's rage and a desire for revenge in there too. He'd never leave the castle; he plans to fight to the last man.
The other soldiers that join them at the table have mixed emotions about this, but none of them are pleasant to see.
Surrounded by those eyes, getting lost in talks that are beyond me… I couldn't stay.
I'm still in the same room as them all, wanting to show my loyalty by sticking around. But I do my best to tune them out, staring out the window, waiting for the inevitable. The inevitable that fills me with dread.
I think we need to start discussing our own plan.
I'm well aware of what she's talking about, but I play along.
Our plan?
Her aura rests in front of the next window over, hovering slightly at shoulder level. For a moment, maybe just a second in the shining moonlight, I see the girl I know there. She has her arms crossed, cloaked body leaning on the stone windowsill, her tattooed eye facing me. A head shorter than I am but might as well be the tallest in the room.
She opens her mouth to talk, but I only hear her voice in my head.
I'm probably just seeing things.
Lance, I know how you feel about all of this. You want to do all you can to save these people.
She turns to me, and our eyes meet, before she fades out of existence, reverting back into a speck of light.
But you are destined for greater things. I know it, you know it… Even that witch Ranni knows it too. You can do so much good for this world, which has been locked in eternal struggle for millennia. Your story cannot end here, I cannot allow that.
We need a plan, a real plan, for when the castle falls.
If it falls.
I almost hear a sigh.
I am afraid victory will not be possible this time. The numbers alone would be enough, but the enemy has many powerful entities as well.
What about Agheel? What if we remove the thing that controls him?
It would not make a difference. Even if the dragon was not apart of this at all, a combined attack of such a magnitude will spell the end of Morne. We cannot rely on hope this time. We need to consider the possibilities.
I face her aura, leaning against my windowsill.
So, what? I just run over to the breach and leave? Just like that?
Her aura leans in toward me.
Even that might not be possible, if the castle is overrun, there may not be a chance to use the breach.
Then what about using the sewers.
It can be possible, but it is not guaranteed. It is too dangerous.
Then what? What do you want us to do?
...
I knit my eyebrows together.
Wait, no. You're suggesting we leave? Right now? You are, aren't you.
Her aura flashes.
What if I am? If victory is impossible, then why should we stay?
It's not impossible.
Her light draws near, close enough that her flashing reflects off my sweating face.
Oh? Then pray tell, how will Morne survive?
The gate has fallen, the heavy weaponry has been halved. There are maybe, just maybe, under 3,000 able soldiers, a disgraced knight, an unstable warden, and us to defend this place. You are hoping for every soldier to slay ten enemies before they fall, hoping that a dragon, a leonine, a Bloodhound Knight, and a traitorous knight be slain all within a single day.
They will not retreat this time. You are hoping for the impossible. I wish we could turn the tides, but we cannot, not this time. Not for a battle of this magnitude.
…
So, how? How will Morne survive?
…
I've fallen silent.
I don't know.
I don't know a way out of this. If Morne had a secret trump card, now would be the time to show it.
But we've got nothing, those voices behind me say nothing of using a special power that can ensure them victory.
The voices speak as if this were the legislative hall of a country on the brink of defeat, surrounded by the enemy and given an ultimatum: Submit by tomorrow or die. They don't talk of how to defeat the enemy; they've begun to talk of what they should do.
Unfortunately, those two subjects couldn't be any farther apart.
Do you see? Everyone knows it is impossible.
I see it, I can feel it. I didn't fear the coming battles in the past as much as if fear this one. It feels off this time around, I don't have that thought that as long as I fight my hardest, we can survive. I can tell there's no surviving it this time around.
But…
I grit my teeth.
I don't want to lose. I don't want to run away.
It's childish, so childish that I hate myself immediately for saying it.
But it's true. I don't want the enemy to win.
They ravaged the people of this city, they took Irina, they revel in flesh and shout praises to the deaths of innocents. These misbegotten, those Limgrave Soldiers… they're evil.
They play with lives like they're toys, they pleasure themselves in ruining families and futures. They have yet to receive their just desserts, they lead their self-centered lives indulging themselves in selfish desires.
Morne has tried so hard, against the odds, to prevail. They fight for their families, their friends, their loved ones; their beliefs. They fight for a just cause, but they're losing.
The injustice of it all.
I just... I want to make the misbegotten pay.
I want them to understand that they can't just tread all over these people and not expect to find a knife stabbed into their heart.
I want them to understand that those lives they trifle with are capable of snapping their neck.
I want them to experience defeat.
I want them to experience misery.
I want them to experience death.
…
…
…
I guess this is what it feels like to hold a grudge.
I won't leave. I can't. Not until those bastards pay.
I understand your anger, I do. But what is good rarely ever prevails.
Lance, you need to understand, morals hold no ground against power. It is all that matters in war. Power withholds. Power corrupts. These long centuries of this eternal war…
The Shattering has made that point clear enough: Knowledge is power. Power is power. And power is everything. It is what we need, and it is what we lack. We cannot hope to obtain it, not now. Our chances were dashed as soon as that gate fell, as soon as this castle had one of its best turn coats and run, undermining everything here.
This war is already lost.
The aura flutters away, as if Melina turned her head.
We just do not know it yet.
She seems to turn back my way, her voice filling with more emotion than what's normal for her.
Everyone that stays is a walking corpse. The Shattering has long ravaged these lands, and its bloodshed has finally found its way south. We need to leave before what happens next unfolds. I need you to live, if nobody else.
That's the coward's way out.
It is. But I ask you do so regardless. Please.
…
...
…
Something catches my eye outside.
It comes as a rush of gray and silver colors, near inches from my face. I nearly shout, but I cut myself off. I find a pair of canine eyes staring right back at me.
It's Blaidd.
He looks relieved to see me, and he silently beckons me outside, giving the other figures in the room behind me a wary eye. None have seemed to notice him, and from what his eyes say, he'd like to keep it that way.
I'm just happy he got out of there.
We'll talk about this later.
... It is always later.
I try to leave as quietly as possible, and when I exit out onto the ramparts a floor down, I come face-to-face with the wolfman.
"Long time no see." I say wryly.
"Aye, well met. Seems to me Torrent got you out of there just fine."
I glance up, back at the window several feet above. That room is a chaotic mess, and the rest of the castle is no different. Word has spread, and soldiers are running about in the courtyard below, their panicked voices easily reaching us all the way up here.
Surprisingly, there aren't any soldiers situated on this rampart; it's just Blaidd, Melina, and I up here.
Blaidd joins me in looking at that window, he seems to stifle dry laughter.
"Seems you stirred up quite the ruckus, it was rather difficult sneaking in this time." He looks back down at me. "Wouldn't suppose you've figured out a plan for all this yet."
I shake my head.
"Not in the slightest, and nobody has any better ideas. It's just arguing up there."
Blaidd considers that; I need to remind myself he doesn't care what happens to this castle.
"Did you get Darriwil?" I ask, hoping to change the topic.
The wolfman unfortunately shakes his head, baring his fangs a little.
"No. The sly bastard gave me the slip. He was with the wind before I had a chance to pick up his scent." He makes a little wave of his bladed hand. "Could be long gone by now, so deep in the sewers I'd need to dig him out. Be chuffed if the snake stuck around here, but I wouldn't be so optimistic."
He seems to consider something.
"Though, I wouldn't say it was a fruitless endeavor. Darriwil has nowhere to run from here, he's at the end of his rope. I just need to squeeze in the right places. He'll pop his head out eventually, they always do."
Cool, guess he's still working on that then.
So…
I cross my arms.
"So, why do you need me?"
Blaidd cocks an eyebrow.
"I don't follow."
I gesture up at the window above us; it's so dark that I can barely make him out. I'm glad I get to speak with him again, but I'm not particularly in the mood. I'm trying to think of ways to get Morne out of this, but I'm drawing blanks. What's worse: we're running out of time.
"You're looking for Darriwil, so why're you dropping by?" I think about it. "You considering he came back this way?"
I was hoping he decided to help after all, but that doesn't seem like the case.
Blaidd blinks a couple times.
"Well… just checking up on a friend. Need there be a cause?"
So, he just came on a whim… friend?
Who.
Drew?
They only just met. If so, that was fast.
Blaidd, though not good at reading expressions, somewhat picks up on my confused look.
"No need to overthink it mate. We've shared a battle and joined blades. Lady Ranni's interest in you is not something to make light of either; I've already found it in my duty to make sure you don't bite the dust just yet."
Charming.
"Thanks…"
I guess?
Oh, he meant me. I'm the friend…
…
Ranni...
"What's Lady Ranni think about all this anyways?" I gesture to the castle. "Think she'd lend a helping hand?"
I already know the answer... but...
Blaidd lightly shakes his head.
"She holds no prospects here; her worries lie in Limgrave. I am tasked to leave soon as Darriwil is dealt with, and nothing more. Apologies, mate, but ridding you of the Bloodhound Knight is as far as I can go."
I understand. Not having to worry about that dangerous thing, it's a weight off my shoulders. It's better than nothing…
Even so…
Lance...
"Is there a way I can talk to her?"
Melina wavers by my side, Blaidd gives me an incredulous look.
Lance, what are you doing?
…All I can.
"I know you told her about me." I say.
Why else would she seek me out?
"So, you must have some means of contacting her, right?"
I bow my head; I don't even have a plan. No ulterior motive, no idea behind my intentions. But I'll beg if I have to. I'll take any chance I can to save these people...
Because...
"I need to speak with her. Please."
Far in the northwestern reaches of Liurnia, under the light of an eternally full moon, Lunar Princess Ranni lightly drags a forlorn blue finger over a spread of weathered and time-tested parchment, muttering quietly to herself.
Under her placated guise, she scans over the illustrations of muddled colors and steep topography, glances about the shapes and lines of an elusive city; one that stays without her grasp. It is her only record of it, and she has gazed at its demeaning patterns more times than she could count. The simple depravity of it all; beguilement of the highest order.
This ancient parchment is her only map of Nokron, the Eternal City.
A long-lost civilization of silver-skinned zealots marked by the Erdtree for blasphemy. They cursed the tree, cursed Marika and the two fingers. They didn't believe in a Greater Will; they believed in science.
Their alchemy was advanced, their architecture laid the groundwork for sorcerers and vagrants for time all eternity. They hold the key to unlocking Ranni's path ahead, and they brought themselves to their own destruction.
A being from space stole their skies, Marika cast them down to the depths of these lands. They have been buried deep, far below to where even the mines and catacombs cannot reach. They dwell where the spirits dwell, and they took the key with them.
If Ranni has any hope, any at all, to continue her dark path; to be free of her empyrean shackles… she must reach Nokron.
She must obtain that treasonous blade…
Her finger skims over the map, traces the routes and lingers on the waygates. She does what she has done countless times before; she ruminates.
There has to be a path, there must be a path. If the Nox ever believed they had a chance to return to the surface, if they ever truly desired to bring about their dark lord… there must be a way.
But alas, she cannot find it.
Her shadow, her warden; they cannot find it.
They cannot uncover that missing link; they have been stuck at square one for centuries.
There must be a way, there has to.
The Nox do not wish to allow her to intervene, but she will find the route; she must. It is all that matters to her anymore. She will find it, even if the very ground she stands on erodes to ash.
It is her calling, and it is her entirety.
A bright flash steals her attention away, breaks her focus and makes her avert her gaze. Atop her desk, held neatly within a clear vase, a silver ring blinks, the glintstone center stone crested atop it pulsing as if it were an infant's heartbeat. It is a sign she sees often, but she questions it now.
"Blaidd." She breathes, rolling Nokron's map back up. "This is unprecedented."
Not long from now, before the stars even began to shine after sunset, Blaidd contacted her and updated her on his matters. He said he just reached Bellard's outer walls, looking to corner Darriwil before the night ends.
But it is far too soon, is it not? What could have changed?
She turns herself about, activating her spell with a whisk of her finger. Atop her tower, amongst the hanging fog of the lake, and the citrus scent of glintstone, white light glows and grows, taking shape as if it were alive.
Soon, a wolfman warrior looms over her, demanding the attention of any that bear witness. It is Blaidd, and he immediately drops to a knee.
"My Lady." He utters, bowing his head. "Apologies for the summons, I understand I've already spoken with you tonight."
Ranni lightly places her hands together, feeling all the more composed. She appreciates Blaidd's reverence, but it is not needed. She regards him as a sibling of sorts, staying by her side even when she left her loathsome family behind.
"Blaidd. Thy words giveth' me recompense. Though I ask, what is thy business at this hour?"
Blaidd raises his head, but he remains kneeled, exuding knightly customs one would see being given to royalty.
"I've located Darriwil. It seems he's found solace in a sizeable army that currently lays siege to Castle Morne. He's gone into hiding deep within Bellard's sewers, biding his time until this army takes Morne sometime tomorrow."
Ranni raises an eye to this.
Darriwil was so quick to change masters?
Bloodhound Knights were said to be exceedingly loyal, yet her's has already found a new hand to hold his leash. It displeases her to hear it, to know she had one of such wavering loyalty serving under her.
"Continue thy search, Blaidd." She states. "I believeth' thou art able to do so, no?"
Blaidd bows his head.
"Of course, My Lady. It will be done."
He raises his head again, but he looks elsewhere. He hesitates for a moment, before he continues.
"Apologies My Lady, but there is another matter I hope to discuss. Though it is out of the original."
"Oh? What would that be?"
Blaidd speaks to someone Ranni cannot see, lightly shaking his head. He gives Ranni another look before he stands. He fizzles out of focus, and a new figure takes his place. This one is much smaller, though he carries that same look in his eye as Blaidd. It is a new look on him, and Ranni almost smiles.
It's the Tarnished.
The boy… he looks far different from when she first laid eyes on him. He no longer looks frightened and overburdened, he's standing tall and looking her right in the eye. She suspects what might be happening, but she cuts herself short.
What could this be about?
"R-." The Tarnished opens his mouth, before closing it again.
He looks down, before continuing after a deep breath.
"Lady Ranni. I need to talk to you."
He sounds different as well, as if he effortlessly carried the weight of others on his shoulders. It has only been under three cycles of the celestial bodies since they last met, what could have happened in that time?
"I ask… no, I beg of you: Save Bellard. Please."
"I hope you know what you're doing, mate." Blaidd says quietly, underlining his words with a growl.
He doesn't sound mad, it's more like he's stressed.
The area around us darkens drastically, as if someone poured the blackest of ink over everything. A familiar yet off scent of lemons begins to permeate the air, making my eyes feel like they need to water from the smell alone.
Please, do not say anything that will get you killed.
I won't.
I will pass on word of our situation to Roard… Promise me you will stay safe.
I promise.
Thank you.
Without another word, her light vanishes, as if someone simply flipped a switch. Her voice, and her presence as a whole; they leave me. For a moment, just second, I thought I felt a hand holding onto mine, grasping tight enough to be meaningful around my numbing fingers. But the feeling leaves; I open and close my hand.
"She's powerful, right?"
Blaidd scoffs darkly.
"My Lady is a bloody demigod; she can do things you can only dream of."
That's precisely why I'm doing this.
For reasons I can't explain, I feel fear. It's not like it's our first time meeting, and my situation is by far more dire now. Even so, she is capable of taking Melina away as if she were blowing out a candle, she can seemingly bend reality to make everything go dark even in broad daylight. The vicious warrior standing beside me, capable of slaying a hundred men without breaking a sweat; he wholeheartedly answers to her beck and call.
If Melina's words are something to go off of, Ranni holds real power.
Thinking back on how I acted toward her the first time, it makes me cringe. Maybe Melina is right, maybe I do have a problem with saying the wrong things to the wrong people.
With an encompassing chill, as if winter itself was upon me, an assortment of sapphire lights leech through the black, coalescing and forming until the princess of the moon rests idly before me, suspending in open space as if she were effortlessly levitating. She looks me over with a set of two faces, one real and one incorporeal, beset with a calculating and dead expression, as if a doll were staring me down in the darkest reaches of a haunted mansion out in the alpine.
But, unlike a doll, her two mouths move, flexing cobalt porcelain and titillating my ears with a regal woman's voice, one that holds authority in her idiolectal words.
"Tarnished, it hath been a spell. Thy machinations art' alluring, but it'd sufficeth' me to hear it again from thine own tongue."
She places her four hands together, giving off the same pose a conspiring figurehead would use.
"Pry open thy mouth again, and let me hear it once more."
I give Blaidd a glance; he's here in this darkness too. He looks somewhat stiff, like a kid introducing their problematic friend to their parents for the first time. He doesn't want to mess anything up; he doesn't even meet my gaze.
Remember. I think to myself. I'm the one asking for a favor here.
I can't be my usual self; that kid who lived in an era where everyone stood on ideally equal terms; I can't be that kid. My past world had it's problems, but here, where the system is so skewered that you can get decapitated for saying the wrong things to the wrong people… I can't be a fish out of water.
I've been like that since day one, letting my tongue run rampant and speaking my mind to anyone and everyone, no matter if they were some highwayman thug, or a lord of an entire region.
If I hope to ask something of anyone, I need to respect their authority. And the authority of the demigod that waits patiently before me has authority to destroy this whole kingdom.
I can tell that much.
So I drop to a knee, swallowing my foolish and childish pride, and speaking from my heart, filtering it to the point I don't even feel like myself anymore.
"Lady Ranni, I can only assume you have heard tell of what has become of this kingdom, of what has become of this land."
"I have." She says plainly, I lightly nod at that.
"The enemy, these… savages… that kill and mangle without a care; they are numerous, to an extent that victory is impossible."
Ranni only listens, never giving anything away.
"They will attack tomorrow. They… plan to kill everyone here. All their lives, their hopes, their dreams. They'll all die."
Every person I've grown to like these past few but special days, all of them; they'll all perish.
"I've done all that I thought I could do, but I was not enough, not nearly enough… Not even close. I can't do it alone; Morne can't do it alone."
I raise my head, meeting her icy gaze.
"Please, I beg of you: Help them, help us… Help me."
…
…
…
She doesn't say anything…
"Even if it's something simple," I start, feeling desperation crawling into my voice. "Something so small that anyone would barely notice. Anything."
…
…
…
More silence.
She's not moving, Blaidd's not moving.
Melina isn't here, the people I know in Castle Morne couldn't be any farther away.
I feel so alone, so cold.
I feel, desolate.
"I-"
"No."
My heart drops.
Ranni stares me down, resting her head on the back of one of her slender hands. Her incorporeal face looks almost amused, but her physical face never looked more fake, more cold.
Her mouth closes after that single word, that single word that echoes around in my head.
…No?
"But…"
I fall silent.
…
…
…
"But they-"
She cuts me off.
"I must inquire of thee, Tarnished: What is thy business with the people of Bellard?"
…
"Huh?"
I feel like a deer in headlights.
"Why go to such lengths, for a people thou hast only met?"
…
…
"Because I-"
I'm cut off, again.
"Thine heart holdth' diction that betrayth' thy tongue. Words that thou'st declares cans't be any more hollow."
What?
She presses me, never budging even an inch.
"Thy words are hollow, thy heart is hollow. The fantasies that betray thine intents displeaseth' me so to hear. So, I will not rescind my statement. I refuse to offer aid."
It's not anger that grips my heart, this emotion I feel doesn't burn deep within me. It strangles me, twists a blade deep and doesn't relent.
It's panic.
"But these people! They need help!"
I sound plain, like I were a character written with the worst dialogue imaginable. But it's what I think, what I hope, what I plead for. These people, they need aid, need someone or something to save them.
"I need help! Your help!"
She almost frowns.
"And? Why should I indulge thee? Thine interests do not align with the people thou desireth' to protect."
What am I supposed to say to that?
What can I say?
…
What does she mean?
"Why do'est thou desire it? Why would one such as thee care? Thy heart holdth' no love for them."
I grit my teeth.
"I do! I do… love…"
Do I?
Irina's gentle face finds it's way into my head, making my already straining heart bleed.
"I love them."
Ranni would scoff if she were alive.
"Thy words holdth' the weight of the very air they rideth' upon. Thou'rt a selfish sort, the most egregious of kin. Machinations such as thine rotten the very names that one such as thee utters. For the pride of those thy speakth' of, cease this vile beseechment at once."
What is she talking about?
What did I do?
...
What am I missing?
Reasons?
My reasons for wanting to help?
Is that what she's talking about?
My reasons… are…
"Does there need to be a reason?" I blurt out, bordering on shouting again. "Can't I just want to help them? Is that so hard to believe?"
"Watch it." Blaidd utters.
"Thine eyes betray what thy words hopest to hide, Tarnished."
I… I just…
"Do you want me to serve you? Is that it? Isn't that right?"
"Do not attempt to turn us away from the matter." She says coldly, leaning in ever so slightly. "A weasel such as thou art akin to hide from thine deceit."
What does she want me to say?
What the hell am I supposed to do?
"What am I supposed to say then!? What do you want from me!?"
"Lay thine intents bare. Prove to me thou believeth' what thy words convey."
I almost convulse.
"What intentions!? What if I just want to be a good person!?"
"Thou'st lie."
"Why does there need to be a reason!? Why can't I just desire to be a good person? Why does wanting to save others…"
...
Wanting to save others...
Wanting to be a hero…
Wanting to be a savior…
...
Wanting to be wanted…
I feel something in my mouth go sour.
"I-… I-I-…"
Is that… my reason?
Is that why I put myself in danger and saved Irina?
Why I continued to put my life in jeopardy by delivering her letter?
Why I swallowed the soldiers' insults?
Why I accepted their disrespect?
Why I didn't resist when Edgar asked me to save his daughter, why I didn't resist when Dalia forced us to return?
Why I stuck around the castle, came crawling back even when I wanted to spit in their faces?
Why I've fought on their behalf, worried on their behalf, came begging on my knees on their behalf?
...
When nobody ever even asked me to?
...
Is that my reason? When all my rationalizations and deductions are stripped away?
Did I just want to feel wanted?
"I… want to be needed." I say slowly, feeling sick to my stomach. "I want to be a hero… Wanted to be the one to save somebody… for once."
Ranni slowly begins to look pleased.
"I wanted people to look to me for aid, wanted them to look my way when a problem needed solving."
Such a childish reason. So self-indulging and vile that it makes me sick.
"I…"
I grind my teeth together; this is a feeling I haven't felt in a while. A feeling of defeat.
"I wanted them… to rely on me."
I wanted to feel accomplished.
I wanted to feel prideful.
…
…
…
Ranni reaches for something in the silence, her hand disappearing into the black like she was accessing a portal. The smell of lemons intensifies, before her hand returns, clasping onto a small scroll. She holds it somewhat with contempt, but she extends it gracefully my way.
"Tarnished, extent thy hand, if thou canst."
I'm crying?
…
No. Not crying.
I just feel terrible, but somewhat at peace as well.
"Huh?"
Like a weight was lifted off my shoulders; like something foggy cleared up in my mind.
My face is plagued with confusion, but I reach out, grazing hands with a doll of a demigod for a fleeting moment.
I'm ashamed of myself, but now that I've come to the realization, it makes sense.
My background was nothing extraordinary; I never amounted to anything in my past life. I lived out my days without a care in the world, without any real ambition to speak of. I graduated high school with no outstanding grades, attended mass with only a prayer kept in my heart. I had ideas about going to college, but I never acted on them. I told mom and dad I would get a job, but I never bothered to try.
To be honest, I stagnated.
It hasn't even been a year since I graduated, so I was not far off the path. But for those 11 months, without a job or concrete plan for the future… I was a nobody.
Coming to this world, outside of the terror and hardship, I started to feel like I was on an adventure. Travelling with Kalé, assisting Irina, eating and drinking with the soldiers… it just strengthened that feeling.
For once in forever… no.
For once in my life, I felt important.
I felt like somebody.
I felt like I broke out of that stagnation...
Ranni lets go, and I stare blanky at the scroll she gave me.
"This is a favor. Remember that well, Tarnished. The day will come when I ask of thee for payment. I take it thou art versed in incantations?"
She eyes Irina's seal hanging from my left hand, sitting back on something unseen.
"Memorize the contents of this scroll, holdth' them close to thy heart. Draw upon thy faith in what is unseen, and commune with the powers that overcometh' thee."
She looks over me as a whole, as if I were something more to her than just an interest.
"When the time cometh', and the enemy draw'eth near, call upon the Erdtree's power. Pray for it's blessing, on behalf of thy allies alike. May it aid thee in battle."
An incantation? Power? Erdtree?
I slowly rise to my feet.
"What is it?"
She answers plainly, yet her words hold more wight than I thought.
"A vow."
She turns her head to Blaidd, her large hat twisting about with her.
"Balidd. Seekth' to assist in any way thou'rt able. Darriwil is of thy paramount interest, but taketh' the Tarnished's enemies as thine as well."
Blaidd looks almost relieved.
"Of course, My Lady."
I'm still stuck.
She turns back my way, both sets of her faces conjoined by her closed eye. Flowing blue hair picks up in an accumulating wind, face placated and void of adverse emotions, but intimidating in its own right.
"Tarnished, may thy exploits bear fruit, and may we meet again."
She seems to think on something, and she speaks her mind, before she phases out of existence.
"Alas, pay heed to my words: Attempt'th not to hide thine intents behind deceit, it will only bring thee misery. Such was the fate of the Queen of Black Flames, and if thou'st not tread carefully, it will be thy fate as well. Farewell."
With that, she's gone, not leaving so much as a sign to her presence aside from that lingering citrus scent.
In the waking silence, I hold the scroll in my hands close, sniffling a little to myself. I know now why I fight here, and it's a foolish reason. A selfish reason.
But, it's my reason.
It may not invoke an army to war, but it's enough for me. I don't need anything more.
I want to feel important.
I want to be a hero.
It's enough.
"Mate, best you learn how to speak properly fast-like. Feared I'd have to put you down myself if you pushed it too far."
I sigh.
"Yeah, I know."
I tried to sound proper, but looking back on it, I sounded fake. Never was good with words, and what just transpired has cemented the fact that I haven't improved in the slightest.
It's concerning, to be honest.
Slowly, while we exchanged a few more words, Melina returns.
She grows and glows back into existence, until her light shines beside me.
"Well, what did I miss?" She flashes.
Before I can even answer her, Blaidd points a finger, cocking an eyebrow.
"Oi, did your spirit just say something?"
…
…
…
"Huh?"
What?
When I rejoin the strategy meeting, Blaidd walks a step behind me.
He planned to assist from the shadows, but I convinced him to come along.
Melina did too… I still don't know what changed. Suddenly Blaidd could hear her, as crisp and as clear as day. I didn't even register it, thought her voice was just echoing about in my head as usual. But her voice was carried by the wind, filled with inflexions and stresses as if she were there standing beside me.
I'm still reeling from it, but Melina took it in stride.
Blaidd muttered something to himself, but he seemed to just accept it as well.
"I've laid witness to far stranger things in these lands." He said, finding himself speaking both to me and the light he always saw following me around. "Besides, I already held the suspicion little-miss-light here was special, though I can scarcely believe it myself."
I still don't know what happened. I have been thinking I've seen her real self pop up every now and then, especially when I lost control, though I convinced myself I was imagining things.
Maybe Ranni did something?
I don't know; I guess I'll ask her whenever I get the chance. But for now, Blaidd can hear Melina… I wonder if everyone else can too.
I swing the doors open, walking in with a new pep in my step. I'm confused, reeling, and still dreading for what is to come. But if someone such as Ranni the Witch believes this scroll is enough to change the tides, then I guess I'm believing it too.
Nobody in particular notices Blaidd and I enter at first; their voices are loud enough that they might not even be able to hear a bomb go off the next room over. But slowly, with each step I take, the voices die down.
Neil is the first to notice, then Edgar. Other soldiers begin to turn their heads, and the atmosphere shifts from chaos to something like a classroom when the principal randomly decides to stop by for a visit. Uncomfortable silence.
Blaidd is the first to speak, towering over everyone here by at least a foot or two. His overall demeanor practically bleeds composure, which stacks upon the prominent handle to that massive sword of his, jutting out above his right shoulder.
"Evening."
Edgar looks my way, locking eyes with me. I can see it in there, he still hasn't forgiven me yet. I don't blame him; I don't forgive myself either. He no longer bleeds hate for me, but his trust has broken down to the point he's openly suspicious of me.
"What is the meaning of this?" He asks, voice bordering between a normal question, and a full-on growl.
Neil remains silent, that metal mask of his giving nothing away. I've somewhat grasped what Blaidd is to the people of these lands. He's something of an infamous legend. I can't think of many examples, so just imagine Blackbeard or someone similar suddenly walking in through the front door. Or some well-known criminal randomly deciding to sit next to me on a park bench in downtown Springfield.
It's out-of-pocket, and it would be such a shock… I wouldn't know how I would react.
Everyone here is armed one way or another, they could unsheathe their swords if they wanted to. But they don't; not only is Blaidd well-known, he's intimidating to boot. Having him standing behind me like this, I feel like I could face a dragon.
"Edgar." I say, taking a deep breath. "Neil, Drew, everyone… I have a plan."
Melina's light hovers up to float just beside my head. She flashes, and her voice echoes out into the room, catching everyone's attention as if she suddenly turned into a shining deity before their very eyes.
"I ask that you all listen. It may very well decide the future of this kingdom."
Ranni sits back, frowning slightly to herself.
The boy, something was off with him this night. He retains the mannerisms of when she first met him, but he would change sporadically, as if there were a second soul in him, tormenting him.
Is it the work of Melina? Has she begun to try and take the Rune of Death that rests in his heart? Should Ranni act now?
She glances over at the map of Nokron, ruminating. If this much has changed in only three short days, then one could only surmise time is of the essence.
Then again...
She sighs, reaching for that rolled up piece of parchment. She unrolls it, giving the overview of Nokron another glance over. If her memory serves her correct, Melina would not act so hastily. Much can happen to a being after so many centuries, but their mannerisms rarely deviate. It is not like the Queen of Black Flames to work foolish actions, she is still banished from the capital, after all. If she wants her revenge on Marika, she will bide her time.
Which means... what is tormenting the boy?
To her surprise, her ring flashes again. It almost startles her, though she would never allow herself such a disgraceful action. She activates her spell, and Blaidd stands before her again. He immediately kneels.
"I apologize My Lady, but there is another matter we must discuss."
She waits for him to continue.
"I wished not to say this with the Tarnished around. He has rallied Morne, and prepares them for battle tomorrow. I have removed myself for a spell; this is important."
He meets her gaze.
"The Tarnished spoke of a man amongst the enemy here, one of silver skin and metal hair."
Ranni's eye widens. Blaidd continues.
"I have not seen such a figure, but there is something festering in the sewers here, My Lady. It has infected the rats, and has begun to spread to the menials of Bellard as well. A horrible fire that spurns the eyes and devours the mind and soul; it seems it has taken lives here already."
He shakes his head, growling to himself.
"It is not only that, but this enemy has taken control of Agheel. This amassment of an army is suspicious as well. Leadership is questionable, yet it is far too organized for an unruly mob. My Lady, I fear there is more at play here than anyone can ascertain."
He opens his hand, and closes it.
"I fear an unseen hand has grabbed hold of Bellard."