Been a bit. Let's get to it.
A Haven in the Isles Part III
Path to the Glade Part I
Yorick grimaces as he bolsters Braum's great weight, the Freljordian was able to walk, but with every step, a drop of blood fell to the ground. They trudge across cracked stone and long dead grass, winding between warped and pitted pillars. A gazebo rests on the cliff above them.
"We need to hurry," Caid states, looking back the way they had come, finger inching towards the trigger at every flicker of movement. His hound circles them, earthen jaws clacking aggressively at a curious spirit that came too close.
"We are almost there," Yorick states, looking about him as from behind pillars of stone and long dead trees, spirits emerge, not Mistwalkers or fading whisps but the hollow images of people, trapped in the final moments of their life, called to the one that claimed this ruined dock as his home.
"I…remember…this place." Braum wheezes, trying to stand a bit taller, but the blade was weakening him, even without the blood loss, as thin lines of black were weaving through the veins along the side of his head.
"Why are we risking a journey that might not even be possible right now." Caid snaps, eying the surrounding specters nervously, "You've got a bit of that mythic water round ya neck. Give that to him."
"I can't." Yorick states, holding up the vial where only a few drops remain, "This is all that is keeping us protected right now. I use it. The Mist will claim us all.
"Not me," Caid remarks, tapping his Sentinel pendant.
"A small comfort before the Northman and I tore you apart." Yorick remarks flatly.
The Maiden emerges from the ground, snarling, "A lovely idea."
The spirits rush backward at her entrance, some hiding their faces, others looking away, and a few, dressed in ancient leather armor, holding greened bronze spears, go down on one knee.
"They…recognize me." she rasps, her voice touched with confusion.
"My obfuscation has come to an end," another voice states, and the trio look up, a mummified figure staring down at them, clutching a staff in one hand.
"That the guy?" Caid asks, turning his rifle in his direction.
"Your obfuscation?" the Maiden demands.
"This is Nunyo Necrit." Yorick states, trying to keep the contempt from his voice. "A…"
"Friend." Braum interrupts, smiling up at Necrit and waving slowly.
"Braum?" the Court Mage of Camavor asks, clearly surprised, "Bring him."
The mage turns, disappearing over the cliff's edge, and the Maiden surges after him. Yorick can feel her bristling at his presence, and while she can't grasp fully why, he knows.
Several specters move forward, forms clinging to heavy diving equipment from some excursion of folly from Bilgewater or the lands that were once Osha Va'Zuan. They carefully take Braum from him, hefting him up, and begin trudging up the steps.
Yorick rolls his shoulder and follows, Caid a step behind.
"So, this Necrit, he's a friend of yours?" Caid demands.
"Friends are rare on the Isles." Yorick states, looking back to the Sentinel, "But no. He is…useful."
"Trigger-finger stays ready just in case, got it." Caid remarks.
Necrit purses his lips as he examines the side of Braum's head.
"This is quite bad," he mutters.
"I've had…worse." Braum remarks with a chuckle.
"I doubt that," he remarks, standing to his full height and looking at the others.
The shard of Isolde opens and closes her claws, intent he feels to pierce them through his neck.
The Sentinel was staring at him, finger never quite leaving the general presence of his rifle's trigger.
And then the countenance of the Monk Yorick, writ with no small amount of contempt.
"I am not a healer," he states flatly.
"But you can take us to someone who is, through the usage of the gates," Yorick states, pointing with his shovel toward a nearby arch.
"That will take time." Necrit offers, "And there are only a few places that gate connects to."
"Not for you." Yorick counters, "I know what you can do, Mage."
"That being?" Necrit asks.
"Strengthening magical artifacts." Yorick returns flatly.
Necrit stares at the Monk for several moments, and despite wearing of the ages, and their few previous meetings, the light disdain Yorick had always given him was born of knowledge that he, himself, had forgotten.
"You knew me?" Necrit asks.
"Yes." Yorick states flatly, "We met briefly."
"You never said," Necrit mutters.
"It wasn't important." Yorick returns, "But now, I require your aid, so I feel it important to remind you…."
"Of what?" Braum asks, looking up confused, "Necrit…aided Sarah and Illaoi in stopping Viego the first time."
"Did he?" the Maiden asks, "Then why do I sense guilt when he looks at me?"
She darts closer to him.
"What were you obfuscating?" she snarls.
"You." Necrit states, "It was…all I could do."
He turns away from her and looks at Braum shamefaced, "I am not the man you think I am."
"Then what are ya?" Caid demands.
"A fool." Yorick remarks.
"A coward." Necrit amends.
"Both fit." Yorick returns.
"Why did you hide me?" the Maiden demands.
"I…" Necrit begins but shakes his head and answers honestly, "Penance."
"You know me?" the Maiden demands.
"Yes." Necrit returns, "You are what Viego desires, part of her, the Lady Isolde."
She hisses at him, rearing back with her claws.
"I…I know you!" she rasps, and her arms lash out.
"We need him." Yorick challenges, blocking her strike with his shovel.
"Calm, yourself," Braum mutters, reaching a comforting hand up to her.
She shifts away from them both.
"How could you?!" she demands.
Necrit sighs, "I…I don't know. No answer. I have it fitting. Misplaced hope? My own greed? Fear of Viego? I should have…."
"Listened." Yorick states, "You should have listened. I had given him a brief peace. Viego knew she was safe. The Lady Kallista had removed the toxic influence at his ear. Why did you let another slip in?"
"I worried about what was to come when we returned home." Necrit mutters, "Camavor was falling apart at the seams. There was a chance to hold the nation together, to return victorious and calm the bloodshed."
"And so our blood was a fair price for your peace?" Yorick demands, gripping the front of Necrit's shirt in a rare showing of genuine emotion, "Let me ask you, Mage, was all of this worth it?"
He points out where the clouds of the Ruination have consumed the horizon, worming their way out into the wider world.
"Your King's grief and obsession are consuming this world." Yorick states, "As it consumed Helia, as it consumed your home."
"I know." Necrit mutters, "And no, it…was not worth it."
"I did everything I could to curb him after the fall when I arose to this," he mutters, "I kept him sleeping through whatever magics I could scrounge. I attempted to gain allies amongst his enemies, but Ledros and Kalista only saw me as a traitor…and you."
He looks up to the Maiden, "You had not been able to go far at first, but one of Kalista's allies and a Man in Red returned to the Isle, and we agreed to ferry as much of you away as we could find. To hide and protect you."
He looks down, "But I failed on both parts, Thresh tricked some bastard of Bilgewater into awakening Viego, and even when he was stopped, he was conscious and enraged. He broke free once more, and he sensed you in a vessel we had no hidden away."
"I know what I have done, Monk." Necrit mutters, "So, you need not blackmail. I would help regardless if it means that this madness finally ends, and I can go to my true penance amongst my ancestors."
"Then let's stop talking and get to doing!" the Sentinel snaps, "The Sentinels are out there trying to find whatever demented scavenger hunt you've started, and Ledros wants us to find any allies on the Isles we can to prepare the way for them when we finally put a boot up Viego's narrow ass!"
"Another holds Sanctity." Yorick remarks flatly, "Which has complicated our mission a bit."
Necrit nods, "I may know who the cause is, but first, we need to get to the Glade."
"You know?" the Maiden rasps.
"While Ledros's actions are news to me, the momentary defeat of Viego was not." Necrit states, gesturing for two of his attendants to lift Braum, "He will return and find the blade waiting for him in the hands of his most loyal servant, and she is a strange little creature indeed."
"You've met her?" Caid demands.
Necrit nods, slamming his staff down and spreading his hands wide, the runes along the gate igniting with a snap.
"Briefly." Necrit remarks, "Viego called me to him when he awoke, wishing to see me advise him again. I refused, and he set Hecarim and his mad dogs against me, but the being that nearly ended me on the steps of his makeshift palace was someone else entirely.
The portal snaps open, and he gestures them through.
"The current wielder of Sanctity is…" he stops as while they have appeared within the Glade, something immense bars the way.
A spider.
A monstrous spider, the size of a dragon chittering softly, eyes focusing on the five of them as they step through the portal.
And atop its back, resplendent in her false form, is the self-proclaimed Queen of the Shadow Isles.
"A besotted Yordle girl." Necrit finishes.
And out of the Glade, dozens of immense Ruination-warped spiders charge.
And scene!
I have been adding some facets of the Ruined King and The Ruination novel, as some of the keen-eyed readers may have noticed.
Things will get interesting, but the biggest reveal of what transpires in the Isles will come later. Expect some more Silvermere tomorrow.
As always, comments, questions, and critiques are appreciated. This is VerBeeker, signing off!