Achlys toddled along cheerfully beside Karthus. She was overflowing with energy and was eager to run wild outdoors. Karthus led her from the cathedral to what had once been a field. Here there was ample room for Achlys to play amongst the sparse grasses.
"There is nothing that you can break here," Karthus explained, "so you do not need to restrain your magic. Now, let us practice."
Achlys jumped up and down and threw her hands in the air. At once, she conjured balefire to them, engulfing them in its cold light.
"Hand glow!" she chirped.
"You have become quite proficient at summoning magic," Karthus said with approval, "but how far can you throw it? Show me, Achlys. Throw it like your ball."
Without hesitation, she swung her arms, sending a bright ball of balefire flying several feet before petering out.
"Well done. Can you do it again, but this time, gather more magic in your hand first?"
He knelt down to be eye level with the child before holding out his hand to gather magic in it. Achlys watched, holding her own hands before her. She focused, gathering magic around her fingers until her flame was as bright as her father's. When he was satisfied with the magic she had summoned, Karthus demonstrated how to more effectively control the direction in which a spell was cast.
"Mimic what I do," he ordered, before casting his spell.
Achlys followed along as best she could and once more sent the balefire ball soaring. It crashed against the ground, scattering its cold flames across the desolate earth. The pair practiced on, safe in the knowledge that no matter how excitable Achlys became, she wouldn't damage anything important. And so, balefire flew with abandon.
The noise and lights from the practice eventually began to attract the attention of wandering spirits. The bulk of these curious spirits was made up of mistwraiths and other lesser spirits. They floated around the pair, observing from a respectable distance from the lich. Achlys waved at them as they passed by, which only served to beckon them closer, so drawn were they to the child's strong emotions. Karthus allowed them to approach, though he kept a wary eye. He knew Achlys's force of will was more than enough to overpower these spirits if needed, but just in case it wasn't he would be there to drive them off.
Most of the wraiths ended up scattering though, after Achlys tethered several to her with the magic Thresh had taught her. They hissed at being hooked, but Achlys just shook her head and told them to 'shhh.' The wraiths struggled against her hold for a moment before growing still as her hand touched them. She pat them on the head, just as Karthus had done to her many times, and told them that they were being good. The hissing soon subsided into a sound soft as wind blowing through the branches as Achlys hugged the largest of the tethered spirits as she would her plush toys.
Though Karthus still did not wholly approve of her using this magic, he was at least pleased that she was at least attempting to be nurturing to the spirits she pulled to her. Perhaps one day, he reasoned to himself, she could use it to aid him in controlling some of the more unruly spirits in his congregation. This would however, likely require more training from Thresh, a thought that was thoroughly displeasing to Karthus.
At last, Achlys released the spirits one she had cuddled them to her heart's content, but it was not long before something new caught her attention. At the edge of the field stood another spirit. Unlike the mistwraiths, this entity had more defined form. In life, the wraith had been a farmer and likely tilled the field that Achlys was standing on, but now in undeath, it roamed the empty fields aimlessly scratching at the land. One of the phantom's arms was elongated, fused to a warped version of the tools it had used in life. It approached Achlys.
"Alive," its voice rasped, grating like rusted tools, "alive?"
At the appearance of this spirit, Karthus was at his daughter's side. This being moved with purpose and if that purpose was malicious, Karthus was prepared to reduce the entity back to mist. Several paces from Achlys, the dead farmer stopped. Hollow eyes stared at the girl, searching for a reason for her presence.
"Is this field alive?" it asked, "will my seeds grow?"
It opened its other hand and ghostly seeds began to pour from a gash in its palm. They toppled to the ground and where they landed, they sprouted, grew, and withered in a matter of seconds.
"Please," the wraith begged, "they must be planted soon. We need food so we do not starve this winter."
"Poor soul," Karthus said, "you need not worry about winter or hunger anymore. Such mortal pains are beyond you now. Walk your fields and be at peace."
But Karthus's words did not appear to affect the spectral farmer.
"My seeds," the spirit repeated, "will they grow?"
As Achlys listened to her father try to ease the spirit's restless mind, she took great interest in the seeds spilling from the open palm. She conjured the threadlike tendrils of magic to her fingertips and reached out in an attempt to bind this spirit to her as she had with the mistwraiths. Then, she reasoned, she could command it to give her one of its shiny bright seeds to play with or maybe even snack on. As her magic connected with the spirit, the farmer's attention snapped down to her.
"Child," the raspy voice exclaimed, "they must be planted. I cannot rest until it is done."
The specter closed its hand and Achlys's connection was severed in an instant. Achlys was taken aback by the sudden loss and the tingling sensation it left in her fingertips. The farmer looked down at the ground and saw the shriveled remains of the spectral crops.
"No!" it wailed, "not here. The ground is dead here as well. I must keep searching. I must plant them."
The spirit shambled off, once more scratching piteously at the ground.
"Lay your worries to rest, poor soul," Karthus repeated, "no one will starve here anymore. You are free of that burden; you have only to recognize it."
"Why no grow?" Achlys asked as she watched the spirit depart.
"The seeds are bound to that soul," Karthus explained, "and they will not grow until that spirit embraces its place in undeath. Only when it has made peace, will it be able to realize its potential. Look."
He pointed to the withered crops. As the spirit departed, the glow surrounding the ghostly plants began to fade until they became nothing.
"This is why we must continue to practice your magic, Achlys, so that you may help weary souls find peace."
Achlys held up her hand.
"Broke glow," she explained.
"You will grow stronger with training and you may need to try several times before that spirit heeds your commands, but do not worry. I will support you for as long as it takes."
Achlys nodded, but Karthus could still tell that she was distressed, so he quickly came up with an idea to cheer her up.
"Achlys," he asked, "do you want to see a place on the Isles where many plants still grow?"
This got her attention and she looked up at him curiously.
"I will show a place, but you must promise to never go there alone. It is dangerous. Promise me, Achlys that you will only go to this place if I am with you."
"Promise."
Karthus led her to the edge of a great forest, one of the last places where life had a foothold in the Isles. Achlys clutched at his robes as she took in the twisted tree line. To her the branches looked like hands grasping out to pull her deeper into the dark woods.
"Scary," she told Karthus.
"Yes, the forest can be scary," Karthus replied, "but as long as I am here you have nothing to fear." he reached down and held her hand, "be brave. I think you will enjoy this walk."
Achlys gripped her father's boney fingers tightly as she followed him into the umbrage. She took in the scenery with a mixture of wonder and fear. There were colors here that she hadn't seen anywhere else on the Isles; warm browns, vibrant greens, and even the soft pink of a few flowers.
"Wow," she commented as she pointed to the delicate petals.
Karthus continued to lead her along, pointing out any other plants that may interest her. But even as he spoke comforting words, he kept a sharp lookout for anything moving in the underbrush. He knew what dwelled in this forest, and he knew that if that ancient being was stirred to action, he would be hard pressed to keep Achlys safe.
The bright color of some berries grabbed Achlys's attention. She point at them, cheerfully stating that they were the color red. Karthus examined them and, recognizing them from a tome, knew them to be safe to eat. He handed Achlys a berry before picking more to bring back to the cathedral. An idea came to him as he watched Achlys happily devour several more berries. The land here could still support plants which Achlys could eat. It would be a great deal of work, but perhaps he could grow some food here for her to help add variety to her diet and lessen their dependency on Elise's dried goods. It was a faint hope, but still something Karthus wanted to attempt.
"What dat?" Achlys asked as a noise startled her.
There was a humming noise coming from over a ridge. Karthus motioned for Achlys to stay still as he ventured ahead to look for the source of the noise. He held his staff aloft, ready to defend himself as he floated up and over the brush. Below him, the ground dropped off suddenly into a stagnant pond. A thick layer of algae coated the top of the water, giving the whole pool an olivine hue. The shores of the pool were choked by thickly growing reeds and the trees surrounding it appeared to be slowing sinking into the muck.
A pair of beady green eyes poked up from the water and leered at the lich. There was a splash, and a creature resembling a bloated toad hopped up onto one of the sinking trees. Its skin was rough and appeared to be made of rotting wood. The toad puffed up its chest, croaking and creating the humming noise that had scared Achlys. Several more eyes peered up from the muck at the sound.
The toads were ugly, but Karthus did not believe them to be a threat, so he beckoned Achlys closer. He was at her side as she approached the edge the drop and kept a firm grip on her arms as he pointed the bark toads out.
"These toads," he explained, "have been here longer than I have. One of the tomes I have read even seemed to imply that they were here before the Mists blessed this land. I wonder how they looked unaltered by magic."
"Toad." Achlys repeated, "brown toad. Can hug?"
"Unfortunately, no, you cannot. These toads are territorial, meaning that they will attack you if you get too close."
"Aww."
She looked between her hand and the toads below.
"Glow toad?"
"No, I do not recommend that you use your magic on them."
Achlys watched the toad contentedly for several more minutes before Karthus decided that it was time for them to leave. She begrudgingly followed but looked up and asked 'back again?"
"Yes, we can come back another day. There are more berries to pick."
"And toad?"
"And you can watch the toads some more."
"Toad!"
Greetings Summoners,
I hope everyone is having a pleasant March. It's been a good year for me writing wise, and I think I am going to be able to increase the amount of content I can put out each month. I'm going to try and post one chapter of each fic a month. As a reminder, I do have a Twitter account where I post updates, previews, and musings. Give me a follow to stay up to date. As always, feedback is appreciated. Best of luck on the Rift.
- Gwoo
Twitter:
/StorytellingHy1