Many thanks to the diligent reviewers! Remind me to smack myself in the face if I try to justify for any cruddiness while replying your reviews; readers' reactions are all that matters and if they get things wrong, it's because of my own incompetence (apart from alternative spelling, that is; may I remind you, we Australians use Empirical spelling here). A welcome back to Dromiceius, my first ever reviewer, and a big welcome to Jamie! Unfortunately you're anonymous and haven't left an address, so I can't reply you – I'm sure everyone who's reviewed before got a reply for every single one of their reviews. I love tormenting reviewers with my somewhat delirious replies…
My muse is happy now; I've always loved and hated Act II – loved the Arcane Sanctuary, hated Duriel and the ginormous Horadric quests. So I'm glad that the quest is over and the Arcane Sanctuary is almost here:D
Whoa, rant galore.
Another half-chapter – with a difference, that is. The format might take a little getting used to, but I'm sure you'll figure it out.
Disclaimer: This could be one of the few chapters that I own a bit more of… but I don't own Diablo, or its NPCs. I own their manipulated and mutated forms, though! I also am not the owner of the sunrise philosophy that you'll be reading; I've merely translated it.
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Chapter 18.5: Bird-Eye View
Ow ow owwwwww. This hurts. My left arm's hurting like something crazy. So's the rest of my body, but the arm is worst.
I try to lift it so I can inspect it; my muscles quiver but my arm isn't budging. I feel for the elbow and the shoulder with my right hand. Yep, I've dislocated my arm in two places. Probably fractured it at several points, too.
Trying not to cry out – the echo would hang awfully in the air – I replace the joints back into their sockets. Damn that kills… I've uttered a little moan despite my shame, and now I'm left panting to the stillness of the temple, sweat breaking out from my forehead.
Stillness…
I listen for any sounds; my own quickened breathing from the pain, and another erratic one. Two sets of breathing.
Shit.
I jump to my feet as a wave of pain shoots through my nerves; from the electric shock that thing gave me, probably. I shamefully grunt softly again, and look around. There are chunks and pieces of greyish squishy-looking fleshy stuff melting on the floor, as well as hunks of bone and violet-coloured masses that I think are guts. Every slab of previously-light-coloured sandstone that I can see is spotted with violet, if not completed with fleshy bits stuck to or sliding off them slowly. The liquid running off is stained a light purple.
Oread's lying on her back at some twenty feet away, but to the other side of my vision, Celadon is huddled in a heap between the floor and the wall. No sound from the latter.
I get up on my unwilling legs, and prayed to the spirits that Celadon isn't what I think she is… she's bleeding freely from a nasty gash in the back of her head; probably from crashing into the wall somehow, and quite a few grazes and cuts all over. I better not move her… I feel for a pulse in her neck with hands cold from fear, and a sigh escapes from me. Good. I found it.
She's not dead, yet she's not breathing… blocked airways?
I gotta act quickly. I take off my gloves and shove my hands into her mouth, feeling for any obstructions. Down her throat as far as I can, nothing. There must be blood and stuff blocking her windpipe – I've had experience of such a case, when my cousin got gored by a beast that was "grazing calmly"… nasty business.
If I can control the movement of charged particles in my skills, maybe I can control the air in her lungs… I put my hands on her upper chest below her neck, ignoring the pain in my newly-assembled arm, and gently allow my energy to flow through to the girl. There's one small point where my energy doesn't flow through. That's where the block is.
Concentrate on the space just below that point… heat up the air so that it expands and pushes out the blockage. More energy; strong, quick, but refined. I don't want to accidentally kill her.
A moan from the girl, and a serious of rash coughs; congealed blood the colour of bruises flies out of her mouth, splashes onto my face, and runs down her chin, neck and chest, over my hands. I fall back onto the floor as she takes in a few breaths harshly and quickly, and then her breathing stabilised. Shallow, but stabilised.
Phew. Now I'm out of breath.
I stagger over to Oread; the Amazon seems to have been in an equally bad position with Celadon – if not worse – when whatever happened to the monster took place – judging by the wide-scale damage, I'm deciding on a case of explosion. She has shrapnel and small puncture wounds over her, as well as two compound fractures, one in her collarbone, the other in her leg.
I have to act quickly. I open up a portal from a scroll I collected earlier, and marvel at the blue glow for a few seconds before I realise how stupid I'm being. Cursing myself, I go back to collect my companions, before something stops me in my stride –
Upon the pedestal that the monster went off before to guard with its dying body, the semi-sphere of energy has disappeared, revealing a small pendant in a stylised shape of a viper's triangular head, its fangs bared, and eyes in small slits. The fangs, as well as the overgrown spikes that protrudes from the viper's skull, are made of an ivory material… bone? The rest of the head is made of a dense light-silver metal… platinum? And in its jaws it holds a large diamond, so meticulously- and precisely-cut, that it reflects even the faint fire that's feeding off what remains of the corpses.
But I know I shan't marvel any longer. Pocketing the pendant and mustering my remaining spiritual energy, I ask for Dusk, Nimbus and Aether to come aid me, and they do. I ask for Dawn, too, but the exchange isn't adequate on my behalf, so these three will have to do.
I lay Oread onto Dusk, and heave Celadon onto my back, wincing a little from the pain in my left arm's joints. Nimbus and Aether ask what I want them to do, and I send Nimbus out to alert Fara. Off he goes. Aether agrees to stay here in case something hasn't been done right and something returns.
As quickly as I can manage, Dusk and I proceed onto Fara's place. I'm not sorry for leaving this temple; Oread and Celadon may want to come back later to collect anything they've dropped, but my knife's been blown into shards, and I've seen just a little too much unfamiliarly-scary things in this place, the greatest of them all being Celadon.
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Sure enough, as Drognan promised, the sun returned to its regular routine. The townsfolk don't even know what happened – Drognan says that it's better to keep it quiet, just so that the people don't freak.
Fara and Atma both know, though, and they're both very grateful for it. I'm feeling a little scared of Fara now, seeing as we always end up at her doorstep all messed up, and she'd have to heal us after her long hard day at her smithy. I'd intended to bring Celadon and Oread to her, and run off after that to avoid having to tell her how we got into such a mess, but I just had to faint at that moment.
Such incompetence, Falcon!
Not only that; even back at the temple I've left my comrades behind by falling unconscious at the last moment, and I'm really annoyed at myself for it. It's like spending hours and hours stalking a prey, and watching it run away after realising that your feet can't move because you've gotten frostbites from inadequate gear and standing in the snow for too long.
"Patience, Falcon. You need to be patient."
"But we're so close! If we'd only run a little faster…"
"You don't succeed by being speedy at the last minute, Falcon. A successful hunt is the fruit of hours of careful stalking, and staying calm even when you're getting close. A beast can sense a Druid's raising energy from a mile away."
The little girl's disbelieving snort, and his deep-throated laugh.
"And you, Falcon, your energy is particularly fierce. Such a bright energy it is! You have to stay extra calm."
I didn't take his advice. Not until years later, when it happened, when reality struck and I finally realised just how right he was. I was a brat then, I can't be the same as I was before. You've gotta stay calm, Falcon. Keep your cool.
You can't allow your impatience to take another life.
"Damn, it's so cold… Why do you like watching the sunrise in such weather?"
"Because when you're facing the sun, Falcon, all your shadows fall behind you."
Yeah… I sure am glad to see the sun rise again.
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It's been a week since we've returned from the Temple, and both Oread and Celadon have been brought back to the inn, rather than staying at Fara's. Celadon woke up only yesterday. Fara's demanded me not to let them go onto any errands until all of us have fully recovered.
Yeah, right… I hope she won't do it, but if Oread wants to go, there's no stopping her.
It's strange; I feel like I still don't know her all that well after the times the three of us have spent together since when we first met in the desert. She's certainly capable of caring – she's saved me back in the Sewers, and from the way she talks to Celadon, she cares about that child more than anyone...
That Amazon is certainly not of a pure bloodline. I'm not sure about her hair colour or her built, but her eyes… those double-coloured eyes, dark brown at the bottom, progressing into a bright, deep green at the top. I remember hearing something about that being a trait of a group living in the colder regions of the southwest…
Oh well, I'll figure it out eventually.
Other than her indifference under normal conditions and occasional suicidal tendencies, Oread isn't a bad person to follow. I guess that's why Celadon's so loyal to her; but then again, the girl is young and inexperienced. She probably has no idea as to what she's fighting most of the time. The girl's naïve yet determined quality is probably what allows her to hang around such a master for all this time. She looks up to Oread, I suppose. Not that I can't understand why.
On top of that, she gets along with pretty much anyone. She can manage to talk to Lysander without getting frustrated, and even talks to Elzix courteously… if it were me, I'd order Nimbus or Aether to eat his one remaining eye out if he dares to gawk at me one more time.
Of course, the girl gets along with some people better than others. Atma really likes her, but I'm thinking about Jerhyn here.
That prince has come to see her every afternoon and every night after we returned. He'd just sit there and watch Celadon, motionless in unconsciousness. Not that I blame him, though; Celadon's kept him company every night ever since she got acquainted with him. I'd look out the window and there they'd be, sitting side-by-side, sometimes just sitting and possibly chatting quietly, sometimes talking with great animated enthusiasm.
The prince has been looking a bit less uptight lately. Not long ago I found out that he actually knows how to smiles with his teeth showing.
Tonight, I've gone to get some food from Atma's and the markets – I really can't stand Elzix – and am bringing it up to Oread and Celadon. I open Oread's door, and the room's… empty?
I try Celadon's room, and there they all are – Celadon sitting up in bed, Oread in a chair, Jerhyn sitting on the edge of Celadon's bed and… Cain!
"Hey Falcon!" Oread greets me first. "I've tried to find you… weren't you going to get some dinner?"
"I was at the marketplace." I reply a little shakily. Oread raises an eyebrow and a cheekily pensive look came to her for a split second, then she seems to have understood and keeps quiet. "Hello, Prince Jerhyn, Master Cain."
"Glad to see that you're looking fine, young Druidess." Cain replies. I know he's really being polite, but I really hate the way he calls he that. I'm just a Druid, for goodness' sake. "I've gone to Jerhyn since your return from the Claw Viper Temple. The small pendant you found, Falcon, Drognan and I have discovered that it's actually the missing headpiece of the Horadric Staff!"
There he goes again; him and his "Horadric" this, "Horadric" that… does that word even mean anything? "The Horadric Staff is the key to the tomb of Tal Rasha! If you discover the secrets of Tal Rasha's tomb, Drognan believes that Lut Gholein may be saved, and it may also hold some keys to the Dark Lords!"
"Well… what do we do about it, then?" I put the bag of food down, and toss Celadon an apple – I noticed that the girl was eyeing the package ever since she noticed it when I first got in.
"The way to Tal Rasha's tomb might be beneath my palace." Jerhyn speaks up now. I prefer his voice to Cain's. "The great wizard Horazon was one of Lut Gholein's elder once, and he resided in the depths of the palace during his practices. He disappeared one night, and since then, corruption began." His gaze shifts, but I keep my eyes on him. "First it was subtle things – people within the palace. The top levels became a harem, but that's nothing compared to what followed. My family…" He trails off, but no-one speaks; everyone's waiting for him to continue.
Eventually he does. "The reason why I'm the only remainder of the royalties is because everyone else was killed."
I'm shocked; by their looks, so are Cain and Oread. Celadon shifts a little closer to him on the bed. "One day, eight years ago, the monsters just spewed forth." He's speaking much quicker now, with less control. "Horazon's chamber was at the bottom level, and no-one was to enter it. My family's quarters were just above that, and the monsters came and slaughtered us – unhuman things, unseen in the deserts ever since the first fall of Diablo. I escaped with my late sister." He bows his head, and Celadon stops chewing on her apple to put her hand on his shoulder. Jerhyn smiles a little.
There is definitely something there.
"We think that Horazon must have somehow connected the palace to somewhere where evil lurks." His eyes have grown defiant and angry, replacing the fear. "If Tal Rasha's tomb is as close as Drognan says, then why haven't we found it yet? We've spend years scouting through the desert and found nothing." He clasps his hands together. "This is why we all think that the palace is somewhere worth investigating. Won't you help us?"
We're quiet for a few seconds, and then Oread sighs. "Well, we're here, so we might as well check out everything. If we don't take care of this, we can't move forward." Her eyelids lift, and she looks at me and Celadon, back and forth a few times. "What do you think?"
"You have my word, Prince Jerhyn." I exclaim, feeling a grin grow onto my face – I probably look incredibly naïve like this, but I really can't help it.
"Young Druidess Falcon, you've lost your weapon in battle, I heard."
Cain! He just has to ruin my mood. My face forms itself into a pout, but I'm feeling more than I'm expressing at the moment. If he annoys me one more time, I swear I'll –
"As a member of the Druids skilled with polearms, you'll be the perfect person to wield it."
... What?
The Horadric Cube and the Staff of Kings – or as my company calls them, the Brick and the Stick – are standing upon the small table in the corner. Cain opens the Cube, and puts the Staff into the spherical light. Then he took out the pendant from his pocket, the one that I had given to him to examine a few days ago, and drops it into the light as well.
Then he closes the box. After the light has died down and the box fully closed, he looks up to me. "Now, come here, and see what you can get out."
I reach in, feeling the limitless void. My hands move about and most of my arm has disappeared into the box before I feel something: a smooth cylinder, which my hand fits around perfectly and comfortably. I run my hand along it, and can't feel an end.
"Pull it out, Falcon." Oread says with a sort of obscured excitement.
I grip the rod-shaped form tightly, and pull out my hand. It was a new staff – a whole six feet long, with a sturdy wooden shaft the colour of burnt fertile soil. At its head is a spiked and twisted design made of the platinum-like metal with the sparkling diamond set into the centre of it, while the ivory material forms fine, decorative tendrils weaving down from the top about one foot down the shaft. I look a little closer, and see small runes engraved shallowly all the way down the wooden shaft. The end is also capped with the platinum-like material, with the same wounding ivory design.
"May I present you," Cain announces. "The Horadric Staff."
