WAH!! I've got this all planned out. All the plot-twists are written down as notes and I only have to get there! There are huge twists at the end of this Act, the beginning of the next, the end of the fourth and Act V is just… well… where everything becomes clear. And I mean everything. I've even got the ending paragraph in mind, down to the exact words. Yes, it's all very exciting. Now I just have to manifest the gentler twist that I have in mind for the progression of Act II.
This chapter is more character development and some rare feel-good stuff, as another quest is delayed -.-" I've noticed this piece of writing doesn't have a very tight plot structure, aside from what Blizzard has already created (if you want a tightly-plotted story, I highly recommend Phreno's Bloody Hellfire); rather, I hope that my characterisation and graphic details make up for it.
And a big welcome to Lady ElfDragon and Ranka! And thanks to all my loyal reviewers, of course. Special thanks to Phreno for reviewing all my new chapters so diligently!
Disclaimer: I don't own Diablo. Apart from this story, that is. Hell, I don't even own the plot.
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Chapter 16: Coming of Age
'So wait a minute,' Falcon stopped Cain in the middle of his never-ending paragraph. 'Let me get this right… we have to find a cube?'
'That's correct.' Cain replied, gently smoothing out the flaking edges of the old scroll. The Horadric Scroll. 'The Horadric Cube, the Staff of Kings, and the Viper Amulet. They can then be transmuted into the sacred artefact of the Horadric Staff, which, according to this,' he gave the scroll a soft flick, 'is the key to sealing the evil of Lut Gholein. I am not yet sure of what this means – the runes have become more difficult to decipher, at this point – but the sacred objects of the Horadrim would be able to cleanse Lut Gholein, and – '
'Cain…' Oread's voice drifted from the bed; she had taken off her armour, and her light-cream undershirt was soaked with dark blood. 'Do we really have to go through this now? We've only just returned from a stinking underground sewerage hole.'
Cain took a small startled step back, after a moment of shocked silent. 'You're right.' He wiped his brow with the back of his hands. 'I beg your pardon.'
Knocks echoed through the wooden door, snapping all of our attention towards it. Falcon opened it, and Atma peered inside. 'I'm sorry to interrupt.'
'Oh, no. You're doing us a favour, after all.' Oread turned towards the wall. Atma was carrying various medical items in a tray and had said that she would tend to her, but the underlying insult of Oread's words were missed by none.
'It is I that should be thanking you.' Atma beamed, her face suddenly looking ten years younger, her youthful beauty shining through the lines of stress around her eyes.
'I shall take my leave, now.' Cain said while turning towards the door, the tone of almost-childish disappointment prominent in his voice.
'We'll come to you later, Master Cain.' I said hurriedly; I did not want my master to be on bad terms with Cain – however much she was acting against my will – for I was beginning to think that maybe he was worth travelling with after all. Insufferable as his talkativeness may be, he had seen three times more winters than I have… or perhaps four. 'Let us know if you have news.' Cain nodded at me and smiled before closing the door softly behind him.
'I want to thank you all again for avenging my family.' Atma said, a little shakily, as she shifted Oread's shirt aside to reveal a deep gap in her flesh, where Andariel had pierced and almost killed her not long ago. 'I'll negotiate with the townsfolk and see if you can get better prices around here, especially with Lysander. His antidote potions are quite dear, and I'm sure you'll need to stock up quite a bit on them.'
'And I need to thank you back for saving me from Fara – ' She was cut off when Atma doused her wounds with spirits, trying to bite back the moan and uttered a pained hiss through her teeth instead. She breathed deeply and continued. '...who would have killed me, bring me back and kill me again if she knew about this.'
'You're probably right about that.' Falcon said in a sure voice; the reminder of her imprudence at Fara's made me cringe a little. 'She said something along those lines when Celadon and I went to her.'
'Come now,' Atma smiled again as she threaded a needle with well-practiced, swift hands. 'Fara might seem like a tough woman, but she had been helping to watch over this town for years, ever since she left the Zakarum. She is one of unforgiving words, but she has a tender heart for what is good and of the light.' The needle sank into Oread's shoulder, and she hissed again. 'I'm sorry; are you sure that you don't want any pain-dulling drugs?'
'I'll bear it.' Oread replied, a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead. 'I don't want to be numb for the rest of the night and wake up tomorrow morning with a headache.'
'Are you planning to head out tomorrow, master?' I asked incredulously. Oread might have veered a little from being suicidal, but she sure was still masochistic. 'You're in no condition to do so!'
'No, Celadon; don't treat me like I'm suicidal or something.' I was stunned by the way she took the words out of my brain. 'I just wanted to practice my skills, and perhaps try to learn some new ones. That book that you took from Radament's chest – well, Akara had shown me a similar one, before I killed Blood Raven –' She stopped and uttered a dull grunt against the pain, 'this book is commonly known as a "Book of Skill", and it should contain insights from mages about mana control. Usually, as we gain experience from battles and practice, we learn how to control our mana through experiments and trial-and-error, more or less; but this book has the details all written down, and it saves us the problem of trying it out ourselves if we can comprehend the words.'
'Wow, that's really cool!' Falcon's voice seemed to leap into my ears, and I cringed again, now highly-conscious of the now-sleeping folks around town. 'Can I read it tonight?'
'Sure, why not.' Oread seemed to be bearing the pain better now, as Atma finished suturing her shoulder wound together, and cut the thread. 'If Celadon doesn't mind; I'm not in the mood, anyway.'
'Of course I don't.' I said as Falcon looked at me, her childish eyes seeking approval. I got to my feet. 'Master Oread, I'll stay in the inn tonight. You… won't set out without us tomorrow, will you?'
'I'll go and find you first. For 'sakes, Celadon… Kashya's constant nagging must have rubbed off on you.' I was startled by her humour; how could she do that with a needle being pulled through her flesh every second? 'You're my mercenary, after all.'
I was slightly embarrassed by her comment regarding Captain Kashya, but a smile seeped through and took over. 'Good night, Master Oread.'
'I'll see you both in the morning.' Oread managed a grin through her clenched jaws.
Falcon and I stepped outside; I shivered when a cold draught swept through my hair, still wet from the recent shower. Falcon, however, took a deep breath in and smiled.
'The air of the land is returning to the sea.' She stated. 'You know, I can't wait to get this place back in order, so that we can set sail.'
'The ocean…' I voiced, and then looked up to her; the moon was full tonight, and Falcon seemed to glow with the vitality of the bright moonlight. Her deep-azure eyes now looked a dark royal-blue. When she seemed not to have heard me, I went on. 'You said before that the ocean called to you. Is it still calling now?'
'Celadon, she is always calling.' She replied absent-mindedly, half-marvelling the shadows that the scarce clouds veiling the moon had cast upon the ground. 'In fact, she's crying. The river is no longer in agony after we had cleansed the Sewers of Radament; but the ocean… she's crying for her pain, and for the deaths and corruptions that happened in her. And the land… she cries with her, too; so does the air.' She looked at me, and I noticed that her eyes had acquired a never-before-seen sorrow. 'The sisters of the earth, they're all crying. Chaos is not their way.'
We remained silent after that, indulging in our own emotions. After a few minutes, perhaps, I asked her what had been on my mind ever since we entered Radament's lair. 'Are you afraid of death, Falcon?'
'You never really die, you know.' She replied after a moment. 'You remain in parts of the earth; parts of you live on throughout thousands of lives… and then there's your spirit.' She sighed, turned on her heels and started walking towards the inn. I followed. 'I believe that if you love something enough, your spirit will stay with it forever, bond to it as a part of its being.' She paused for a few seconds, and then continued after her words had established themselves. 'As for death… well, as long as it's for some good, I guess I'm not too fussed. My being here on earth as who I am now is only a free trip, anyway. Let whatever owns me take me in the end; as long as I am where I ought to be, all is well.'
We got to the inn in no time with Falcon's fast pace; but then, I noticed faint footsteps. It came from outside the Palace.
'Falcon, you go on ahead.' I said, handing her the Book of Skill.
'Where are you heading off to?'
'I think someone's at the Palace.' I decided to tell her the truth; there was no harm in doing so. 'I think it's Jerhyn. I just want to talk to him.'
Falcon looked at me, and then she smiled. 'Apologise for Oread's conduct, is that what you're doing?'
'… I suppose.'
'All right, have a good night then.'
After her footsteps diminished into the wooden interior of the inn, I walked a few blocks down the stone path, lit by only a few torches. As I drew closer to the Palace, the dim torches struggled to illuminate the darkness – inside of the Palace was pitch-black. No light could penetrate the walls of the royal monument.
Sitting on the steps was Jerhyn, clad in his noble outfit, but with a thick cloak around him at such chilly hours. He was gazing into the night sky, starless with the blinding luminesce of the full moon. His deep-blue eyes were perfect mirrors of the serene sky, as sheer as still water.
I stopped about ten feet away from him. 'I bid you good night, Prince Jerhyn.'
As soft as I tried to tune my voice to be, Jerhyn jumped. He looked at me, his eyes lost for a moment, before relaxing in the relief of meeting with a benevolent acquaintance at such hours. 'Celadon,' he smiled politely. 'Please, do not address me as a royalty. What is a lady like you doing on the streets of Lut Gholein at such depths of the night?'
'I came to apologise for the conduct of my master.' That was not the real reason – I just came because I was curious about him, but this was a great excuse, thanks to Falcon's candid wit. 'I'm afraid that we have yet to introduce ourselves properly. I am Celadon, a Rogue of Westmarch, and am a mercenary of my master, Oread, an Amazon from the southern lands. Then there is Falcon –'
'There is no need for such formality, Celadon; Falcon has introduced herself quite well upon our first meeting.' Jerhyn replied, as he got to his feet. 'And you need apologise to no-one. Lut Gholein owes you three a favour for the slaying of Radament. Aside from killing our battle-worthy men, he had diseased our river and killed many that were young, old or weak. For saving us from these horrors we thank you.'
His sincere words made me speechless. I felt colour flare into my cheeks. 'You're… you're very welcome…' My voice came with difficulty, which was not to my liking. 'Pri… um, Jerhyn.'
'The night is maliciously cold.' Jerhyn took a few steps towards me. 'Perhaps you should get some rest. You should be exhausted after your recent battle.'
I shook my head softly. 'I noticed your presence as I was making my way to the inn, and was wondering why a Prince should remain outside on the streets, alone and unguarded at such hours.' I hugged my own cloak closer around me. 'On such a starless night, surely star-gazing is not the reason.' I smiled, attempting to lighten up the mood.
Jerhyn regarded my expression for a second; then he sighed. 'The moon is merciless.' He said, turning and looked up again. 'It blinds the stars and reveals the nightscape of one's mind. I was thinking, as I do every night in the dark; but light has invaded the privacy of this night.' He looked back at me; his eyes, the colour of midnight, reflected my own golden orbs. I caught the metaphor in his words – or perhaps I was just paranoid and over-analytic – and shuddered a little. My hand went to my neck automatically, seeking out the comfort brought about by my mother's relic. At the same time, my cloak opened up with a gust of wind, and the hilt of the short sword in my other hand glinted in the pale moonlight.
'And what may this be?' Jerhyn asked with genuine curiosity, and I was glad for the change; but after a split second, his eyes met mine, and I saw unmistakeable fear and vigilance leap into his eyes.
'No, don't misunderstand me.' I said quickly, my feet instinctively carrying me back a few steps and I threw up my other hand as a gesture of submission. 'I brought my gear to Fara's for repair, and she refused this sword after a quick inspection, announcing that there was no damage inflicted upon the weapon, and that I could easily clean it myself.'
Jerhyn still looked defensive, as he took a few slow steps and held out a hand. I held out the sword, hilt-first. He visibly relaxed and took it from my hand, before drawing it halfway and softly thumbed the blade. 'This is a well-made weapon.' He commented, now impressed. 'Rather bland, but a very practical design.' He re-sheathed it, and handed it back to me. 'Do the Rogues possess such skills? I thought their expertise lied in the bow.'
'No, this belonged to my master.'
We eventually sat down upon the stairs leading into the palace, conversing mostly about weapons, tactics and the practices of different peoples. When I spoke of my master's skills, Jerhyn's face developed a thoughtful expression.
'I thought the Amazons practiced the spear, the javelin and the bow, as well as enchantment through divine intervention.' He commented. 'I did not know that they had traditions of black magic.'
'Well, Master Oread denied it when I said she had used such skills, but I was sure that she was the castor.'
'Who can know for sure?' Jerhyn asked rhetorically. 'She might have learnt it off another culture, by some means that no-one can be sure of. In any case, she doesn't look like a typicality of her kind.' He grinned and chuckled softly. 'I was quite shocked myself, when I first met her. Her hostility was highly unexpected; Amazons that had previously crossed these lands were fierce, passionate warriors, proudly independent yet friendly to most.' He turned to me. 'Though I'm not a scholar at any rate, and the Amazons are a people of rich culture. In all, anyone who can do anything to help rid this land of evil is welcome in my city.' He got to his feet. 'You must get some rest, Celadon. From what your company has proven to me, we will have to rely on you a lot in the upcoming days.'
Perhaps it was later than I thought when I finally went to sleep; I woke up to Falcon's morning call, to find her fully-dressed and accompanied by the gigantic black wolf, Soleil.
'Wake up, sleepy.' Her voice rang painfully into my barely-hearing ears. 'It's been nearly two hours since dawn and you're still in bed!'
'All right! I'm awake!' I sat up, rubbing my unfocused eyes and thinking that she was even worse than Captain Kashya at wake-up calls. 'Have you met up with Oread already?' I asked as I ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to smooth out the bumps.
'Yes, indeed. I have.' She said, pouting and setting her hands upon her hips. 'You have five minutes to get ready if you don't want to be late meeting her at the training grounds. I wouldn't think she'll be in a particularly good mood; Greiz offered her the training grounds when she returned the scythe, and she thought she'd better take the offer, seeing the desert monsters have already woken up and all.' She strode to the door, opened it, and stepped out. Soleil followed her. I was about to get out of bed when she poked her head back in. 'So hurry up. I'll see you there.' The door closed.
When I got to the training grounds, I was sure that I was late. Falcon was standing with her complete battalion of wild minions, and Oread was standing with her back to the wall, slowly rotating her new spear in one hand. This spear had a larger, curved-edged blade made of a dark-golden metal, and looked heavier and sturdier. Her other hand was tucked between her back and the wall.
'I'm so sorry!' I panted from the long sprint as I stood before Oread, whose face was expressionless. 'I slept in.'
'Falcon told me.' Oread replied, her voice perfectly neutral. 'I have something for you. I know this is early, but it's close enough; you'll do with a bit of extra damage in your attacks.'
'Wha…?' I uttered, completely lost, as Oread moved her hand from behind her. In it was a bow – the one that she took from Radament's lair, I believed – that was slightly shorter than the long bow I had, but thicker and looked more sturdy. I took it from her hand, and folded my left hand around the body. On the inside just above where I gripped, about the same level where I would rest my arrow, was a small socket, and a yellow stone was set into it.
I moved the bow closer to my eyes for a closer look. The rectangular topaz was not very impressively-cut, but there was no flaw as far as I could see – though I was no expert on the quality of gemstones. I then remembered that this was gathered from the Andariel's chamber.
'Topaz is associated with the element of lightning, or so Cain told me.' Oread went on as I stood speechlessly, admiring my new weapon. 'You have limited skills on arrows, so if this works, it should add some significant damage to them.'
'Master Oread!' I finally found my voice. 'Surely the topaz would have gone to better use… This bow is a powerful one; you should wield it!'
'I have more tricks at my disposal when it comes to the bow and arrow.' Oread said calmly; I noticed that Falcon was smiling. 'This bow and the topaz inside it are yours. Think of this as a gift.' Her icy expression finally broke with a bright smile – well, for Oread, anyway – 'It's almost two months since I took you as my mercenary. You'd said, when I first met you, that you were turning seventeen in two months' time.'
I finally understood. I myself had forgotten about it. How Oread managed to remember such a small detail was beyond me. 'Thank you… Master Oread.' I finally articulated the words.
'Happy seventeenth year, Celadon!' Falcon hopped towards me, and when she was right in front of me, I noticed that something was missing. That thing soon appeared in her open palm – it was her long necklace, with the fang-like pendant. 'This is the tooth of my father's spirit bear, and the present he gave me when I came of age as a Druid.'
'You have a point, Falcon.' Oread commented. 'She has come of age, in a sense.' She walked up to me, 'Celadon,' her hands landed firmly on shoulders; her eyes connected squarely with mine, the extraordinarily-coloured orbs seeming to pierce my own. 'You're a worthy mercenary. Don't tell yourself otherwise.'
