Chapter 2
Allestar Tower had partially collapsed, the structure no longer able to withstand the army attacking it. None of the Tuatha that had entered made it out alive, though that was a small comfort. A good portion of the Gnomes stationed there had been killed. What was worse, the Well of Souls, Professor Formorous Hughes life's work, was no more. All around, mostly bad news.
The good news; there were still a pretty good number of survivors, with enough supplies to last them several months.
And of course, one Almain female.
Faith had spent the better part of an hour simply relaxing and getting clean(She had collected quite a bit of grime since she woke up,) and managed to procure herself some nicer looking clothes. The bag was intact, which meant she could bring herself up to speed. She also had been given a few healing potions from the Healer, which would definitely help in the future. Last but not least, she now had boots. Her feet definitely appreciated it, as she no longer had to worry about rocks sticking into her soles.
While she did that, those around her took care of their wounded, and prepped for what would most likely be a very long journey. They had to get moving, since there was no doubt in their minds that the Tuatha were still in the area, hunting for survivors.
"Alright, lass, you're definitely fit enough to travel," the healer declared, having finished her physical of the young Almainian. "I just wish you could come with us. You're pretty handy in a fight, and the council would most likely like to see physical proof of Hughes success."
Faith shook her head. "To be honest, I get the feeling that if I stay with you all, I would be placing you in even more danger. Best I go on my own, see if I can remember anything of my life." She paused with packing her bag up, a thought coming to her. "Hey… do you know anyone by the name Agarth? The Professor said that I should go find him for help."
"Agarth?" The healer thought about it for a second. "He's what's known as a Fate Weaver. See's into the Tapestry of Fate to determine some aspect of their future. Unfortunately, they only ever see when a person dies. As a result, they have a pretty bleak reputation around here." She sighed. "Agarth and the Professor were good friends. Didn't understand one another's professions, but they did respect them and each other."
"A Fate Weaver..." Something about that word seemed… a little familiar to her. Like something she had seen in a dream. Perhaps she had seen a Fate Weaver in her previous life. "Okay, next question. Do you have a general idea as to which direction I should go to reach Gorhart?"
"Well, that part's easy. Just go straight up this road here. Gorhart is just half a day's journey, but be wary lass. There are bandits haunting these roads, ready to ambush unsuspecting travelers." The Healer smiled at her hesitation. "Don't you worry about us. We still have two mages here. They'll be able to get us back to Odessa without too much trouble."
"Well, consider myself warned. And good luck to you all." Getting up, Faith shook the healer's hand, grabbing her bag, and headed off. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, before another force came after her. She just hoped they all got out as well.
However, now that her life wasn't in immediate danger, and that she was actually outside, she took the time to actually take in her surroundings. She hoped to get a better understanding of the world she lived in.
To her surprise, she found it to be quite beautiful. A person could become distracted by such beauty, if one was not careful. There were flowers of all kinds, blooming everywhere in a spectacle of color. Their beauty only matched by their usefulness in potion making The sun felt so good on her skin, warm and full of life. She could hear the sound of wildlife in the distance, painting a beautiful picture of peace.
And then, the peace was shattered by a terrified scream.
Her reaction time was, to put it lightly, near instantaneous, as she started running in the direction of the scream. There was no time to waste.
It took her only a minute to reach her destination; taking in the sight of a bear as it backed a lone gnome into a corner. She didn't hesitate, even for a second.
The bear's paw raised its paw, ready to put the gnome's lights out for good, when a jolt of electricity hit it. Letting out a roar of pain, it quickly backed off and ran away, limping slightly.
Faith let out a sigh of relief, hoping that the damage wasn't permanent. She had seen enough killing for one day, and the bear had done nothing that warranted it dead, aside from abiding by the laws of nature.
"You! I remember you!" the gnome suddenly yelped, grabbing her attention. "You're the one? But… how did you come back? How did you find me here?!"
Faith looked at this new gnome, taking all of ten seconds to figure out what he was talking about, and nodded. "Yes, it's me," she replied, a bit sourly. "I'm going to guess you were with Encel when you dumped me into that pile of corpses."
The gnome had the decency to look sheepish at her observation. "In my defense, I thought you were still dead. Names Guran."
"Faith is the name I'm using. But now there is a question I have to ask… why are you here and not with the others? They're planning to teleport back to Odessa."
Guran sighed. "Well, when I saw you with Encel, I ran. But… not because I was afraid. I was going to report that Hughes' experiment had succeeded."
"To who? I was under the impression that it was Hughes' project. And couldn't you have just done that with the rest of them?"
"The Well of Souls is bigger than just one gnome's pet project, though he was the one who had the most success. My contact pays well for any information on its progress. I just send reports and make some money on the side." He quickly noticed her gaze growing darker, and realized almost immediately how it sounded. "But I don't know how the Tuatha found out!" he added frantically. "This had nothing to do with them! I never wanted anyone to get hurt!"
Faith listened to him, weighed his words, then nodded. "Alright, I believe you on that," she said, a thought occurring to her. "But who were you reporting to? Did they want you to commit some sort of sabotage on the project so that it would fail?"
"If I knew, I would tell you. Sharing research is one thing, but academic sabotage is a crime among the gnomes." It appears that he had had the same thought, as she did; that his contact had double-crossed him.
Faith sighed, rubbing her eyes. Every single time she thought she had begun to understand what was going on, something else happened that threw her for a loop. She decided that she had better get used to that, because she had a feeling that she would be feeling that way a whole lot in the near future. "Okay, I won't let anyone else know about this. Just… go home. And… I hope that we don't meet for a very long time."
"You and me both. I want nothing more to do with any of this. Too many people have died for that Professor's dreams." With that, he turned around, and started walking. He didn't look back once.
Faith watched him go, sighing. "That, we can agree on," she murmured. Shaking her head at this, she headed off in the opposite direction.
Unaware that she was being watched.
The shadow observed the woman as she began making her way toward Gorhart, unable to believe what she was seeing. It couldn't be her… could it?
She had come running for Allestar Tower the second she had heard about the Tuatha's plans. She wasn't doing it out of a need to protect their lives, but because she hoped to get some information on the events of Amithyn from one of those accursed unseemlie fae. Her hopes were dashed when she arrived, bearing witness to the sight of the Tower crumbling, and a number of gnomes fleeing through the exit. She had had half a mind to grab one of them, and demand answers as to how the Tuatha found out about their little science project.
Yes, she, and the organization she worked for had known about the Well of Souls Project since its inception, despite all of the gnomes precautions(and they were admittedly thorough in those precautions.) They knew about Fomorous Hughes and his colleague's efforts, and had deemed them harmless and futile. Their plant within the latter's lab proved that much before she died.
Normally, this wouldn't have worried the Shadow too much, save for one little thing… the plant had been her savior, mentor, friend, partner, and a mother figure. They had no idea how it happened, or even if she died. And it looked as though that would remain a mystery.
And then… the woman emerged from a cloud of dust and debris. And the Shadow froze.
At first glance, she looked like she could have been her mentor's daughter. They had the same facial features, the same body type, even the same eye and hair color. Hell, that very hair was even the same length. There was just one slight issue with that; her Mentor had been unable to have a child.
She was a fair distance away, and even her dokkalfar hearing, which was inherently superior to an almainian's, couldn't hear what she and the gnome healer were talking about. And then, the woman stood, and began to walk away. It was becoming clear that she was planning on going alone to wherever she was going. Gorhart, no doubt, as it was the closest populated area. Curiosity gripping her, the Shadow followed.
Her surprise grew as she observed the woman walking. Her gait was the exact same as her mentor's, save for the lack of a slight limp. She walked with a deliberate purpose, like she knew where she was going, how she was going to get there, and what she would do once she got there. The similarities between them were becoming more and more uncanny.
And then the woman broke into a run, probably in response to the scream of terror that had suddenly emerged, which turned out to be another gnome. The Shadow watched in awe as the woman released a lightning blast that hit the bear with enough power to hurt it, but without crippling it. Their similarities were now becoming scary.
And then she froze when the two spoke of something that was impossible. And this time, she could hear them just fine.
"You! I remember you! You're the one? But… how did you come back? How did you find me here?!"
"Yes, it's me. I'm going to guess you were with Encel when you dumped me into that pile of corpses."
"In my defense, I thought you were still dead. Names Guran."
She tuned out the rest of the conversation, but not because she didn't want to. What she had just heard was unheard of. It was impossible… and yet, there it was.
The Well of Souls had brought someone back from the dead. Fomorous Hughes had done it. He had achieved the unimaginable. He had brought someone back from beyond the grave. And, with everything she had seen and observed, he had most likely brought her Mentor back.
But, how was she so young?! She didn't look a day over twenty! Her mentor had been over twice that age! And where were the scars? The gray hairs? The limp? What did Hughes do, and how did he do it?
Focusing back on the two, she took note that the gnome was going in one direction, while the woman was heading in the other. She immediately set out behind the woman, staying only far away enough so she couldn't be spotted.
She needed to see more before making a final verdict. There was still a chance that this was some random person that just happened to look like her Mentor when she was young. If she wasn't, then she would simply be on her way, continuing her mission.
If she was... then she would figure out how to approach her, and go from there.
Faith was pretty sure that she had been walking for a few hours, and already her feet were aching.
She wasn't really sure what had caused this. Perhaps it was the fact that she had just been 'born,' which was a strange phrase to say considering how old she looked. Perhaps it was simply fatigue, as she hadn't really had a moment to rest since that moment. Or, more likely, it was because her boots weren't the most comfortable. They were a little tight and had no padding in them to cushion her soles. (She couldn't really blame the gnomes for this one. She was just happy that she could put them on!) Either way, she was going to need to take a break for a few minutes, just to let her feet breathe.
Luckily, it seemed that her desire was about to be granted, as she entered what looked to be some ancient ruins. It looked like it could have been part of a city once, but had experienced some sort of titanic battle that almost destroyed it, with the remnants left to be claimed by Nature.
Faith sat down on what was the base of a pillar and pulled her boots off, rubbing her feet a few seconds as she looked around, taking in her surroundings. It was pretty damn peaceful around here. Birds were chirping, flowers were blooming. These ruins seemed to belong here, as if showing that life had been ended, but new life had formed in its place. It was kind of like her. She had lived before, had died before, but had a new life given to her.
'Well, might as well start reading, and see what they had had to do to bring me back,'she decided, pulling a book out from her bag and looking at the title.
Well Of Souls: Year One by Fomorous Hughes
"The beginning it is, then."
Chapter One: The Theory
What is the Well of Souls?
This is a question that has perplexed our greatest philosophers for hundreds of years. But why? What is it about this mythical object that has instigated such fervent discussions among intellectuals? What evidence is there to even suggest such a thing exists?
Well, in order to understand this, we must look to the past. The Ancient past, that is.
About two hundred years ago, an archaeological team excavating some Varani ruins in the Northern Regions of Klurikon came across a strange wall with the Varani language written on it. Upon further examination, they were able to determine that it was a story. A story about a place where the souls of those who had died and those who had yet to live existed. A place known only as the Well of Souls, the place where they went to be reborn. There was a whole lot more to it, but that is the basic gist of it.
For the next century, this was discounted as nothing more than the Varani's equivalent to a fairy tale. And for a century, that was how it was treated. But then, a Dokkalfar scientist, Londa took a closer look at the wall, noting something about how it was structured. It took him several years to understand what it was, but what he learned would change the scientific community's viewpoint of the Varani forever. It wasn't a story about the mythical Well of Souls.
It was research into the Well of Souls. Research that, for one reason or other, seemed to indicate that such a place did truly exist. And that it could be accessed voluntarily.
This new theory set off a debate among the scientific ranks, as to whether or not this was real. One group believed that it was just that; a fairy tale, and it remained the accepted theory. But… an ever growing number of scientists and healers have begun to believe Londa's interpretation of the writings. And more and more of us began to study.
I, Professor Fomorous Hughes, and my colleague Professor Drio Ventrinio, count ourselves among their number. We have studied the myths and research that had gone into the ruins, have read the story and everything that had been discovered since then, and have come to agree with Londa's conclusion.
The Well of Souls is real.
And the Varani had successfully managed to tap into it…
Faith stopped for a second, blinking at what she had read. This wasn't possible… was it? How could a race like these Varani do something on this level? And if they were able to do this, then how did they disappear? And why was she even entertaining the possibility of this being real?
'Because I'm a direct result of such research,' she thought after a moment. 'I came out of such an object. I may not remember anything from my past life, but I do know that much. If not for Hughes, I wouldn't be here.'
Looking up, she decided that she had spent enough time dallying here. Her feet were no longer aching, and she wanted to get to Gorhart before the Tuatha located her. Putting her boots back on, she packed up, pulling out some dried meat and taking a bite. She had only been alive for a few hours. It wouldn't do her any good to die from starvation. And she did need to find Agarth.
"Well, hello there, young lady."
She immediately whirled around in a flash, hand on her sorry excuse of a sword handle. She had no idea how anyone had managed to sneak up on her, but she was damn sure not going to allow them to take her.
The man in question held up his hands, letting her know that he was no threat. "My apologies for startling you," he said. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to be here. It's a place I come to for meditative purposes." He observed her for a second more. "You've come from the Tower, haven't you?"
Faith blinked a little at that. This man was definitely perceptive. "I have. I'm Faith. And you?"
"Name's Agarth. Perhaps you can help an old Fate Weaver out, eh?"
Well… it looked like she didn't need to go too far to find him. "You're Agarth?" She finally relaxed. It looked like he mission was already partly finished. "Professor Hughes sent me to find you, Sir. He said you might be able to help me out."
"Did he?" Agarth sat down, shoulder slumping. "Poor old Fomorous Hughes. He respected the way the world works." He looked up. "What a shame. He's probably dead by now."
"What makes you think he's dead?"
"The Cards told me that the Well of Souls would work, but his success would only come on the day of his death. He took it rather well, honestly. ...Although we did a lot of drinking after that."
Faith's eyes narrowed. "You know about the Well of Souls?" she asked. "I was under the impression that it was a top secret program that the gnomes wanted kept secret."
Agarth shrugged. "He told me about it a few years ago," he admitted. "He was just curious as to whether or not it would work. What of you? Were you one of his assistants?"
"Something like that. Can you help me?"
Agarth smiled slightly. "I think I can spare a little help, in memory of Hughes… or in celebration of his success," he replied. "Whichever."
Faith sighed. This was definitely brought a difficult decision to the surface. On the one hand, she had a feeling that the fewer people knew about her, the better. She didn't even want to think about what would happen if some fanatic decided that her blood could give them immortality or something. On the other hand, this man already knew about the Well, and what Hughes was trying to do, and he didn't really seem to care. After a minute of thought, she came to her decision. "I actually was the one who came out of that Well," she replied. "I woke up in the Tower."
Agarth took a moment to let that process, a look of shock and awe appearing. "You… you're the one? Then that means… yes, it all makes sense now."
Faith frowned. "Okay… … … what makes sense?" she finally asked, when the Fate Weaver didn't answer for a while.
Agarth finally snapped out of his internal dialogue, becoming aware that, yes, she was still in front of him, and yes, she would very much like an answer to her question. "The cards this morning… I drew the grave digger, the running man, and the beast," he explained. "I didn't fully understand what they meant, but I knew enough to know that I had to come here."
Faith nodded, not really understanding what he meant by all of that. However, that was definitely something she had a feeling she would get a better understanding of as time went by. She decided to ask another question about Fate Weavers, when she heard something. Something she didn't think she would hear so soon.
The sound of metal boots against a hard surface.
Instantly, her body tensed. "Do you hear that?" she asked quietly, bring her bow up to the ready position.
"Yes." Agarth, sadly enough, didn't seem all that surprised. "They're here." He pulled his sword off of his back, bringing it to the ready. "I've heard rumors about Tuatha scouting parties managing to make it over the ocean to here, but I didn't expect them to get this far inland."
"The gnomes probably thought that same thing as they were being slaughtered." Faith took aim, before a thought came to her. "Hold on… there's only one set of footsteps that I'm hearing." She shifted her aim slightly. "And it's coming from within the ruins." She counted a few seconds, then let her arrow fly.
The arrow clearly struck a had surface, meaning she had hit her mark. And if that wasn't enough, a female voice cried out, "I surrender!" from within.
About half a minute later, a Dokkalfar female tentatively exited the ruins, hands held up to show that she wasn't a threat to them. She was dressed in armor that, while perfectly maintained, did look a little worn out, and was covered in a thin layer of dust. She had a spear on her person, but she dropped it behind her.
Faith didn't relax, and neither did Agarth. "Who are you?" the latter asked.
The Dokkalfar stopped just shy of the sharp arrow in front of her. "My name is Gwyn Arrowny," she replied quickly, "and I am Sworn to War."
Agarth immediately relaxed, letting his blade arm drop. "It's alright. She's a member of the Warsworn." He caught his acquaintance's confused expression. "That's their slogan, and their way of identifying themselves to others. And I did do some card readings for a few of their order."
Faith nodded, finally relaxing as well. She would have to take his word at this, considering that she knew nothing about the organization, though she was planning on changing that. And this woman in front of her… well, she wasn't doing anything that warranted being held at arrow point. "I'm Faith, and this is Agarth. Sorry about this, but I have had a pretty bad day so far."
Gwyn nodded, her arms coming down in obvious relief. "I'm guessing so. I wasn't expecting to be attacked, but… considering everything that has been happening, I can understand." She looked up. "Allestar Tower has been destroyed?" she asked, surprised. "The Tuatha actually made it here?"
"I'm going to assume that you've been in the ruins for a while," Agarth mused.
"About a week. Enforced leave from Helmgard Keep, which is supposed to go on for two months. I've only really gone to Gorhart for supplies since I got here." She sighed. "Something that we can't really afford at this time, considering how short staffed we have become over the last decade."
Faith nodded, her gaze flitting about. "Because of the Crystal War." It didn't take a genius to figure that out. An organization that went by the name Warsworn would definitely be embroiled in what was probably being classified as the ultimate war.
"Pretty much." Gwyn smiled slightly. "Well, seeing as how I'm on vacation, I decided to come here and spend a few weeks poking around these old ruins. I wanted to see if I could find out something about the Varani that no one else has."
"Varani? These are Varani ruins?"
Gwyn nodded eagerly. "Oh yes. They were discovered about thirty years ago during the Tower's construction, but were deemed to have nothing of value. I think one can find anything of value if they actually look, even if it seems inconsequential. And there has to be something here that would make it all worthwhile. Maybe some sort of journal with a look into their culture."
The Fate Weaver began to chuckle at this. This was a fully armored member of the Warsworn, and yet she was acting more like an excited adventurer wanting to see the world. "Are you sure you're in the right profession?" he asked. "Because you sure sound more like an archaeologist than a soldier."
"Well..."
"Shh," Faith suddenly hissed, listening hard. "A large number of footsteps… on dirt this time." She turned back in the direction of the Tower, bow raised once again. "Now they're coming!" What was it going to take to stop them?!
Gwyn's own stance shifted as well, hardening up to prepare for the incoming attack. She went back to her spear, picking it off the ground. "What were the Tuatha looking for in Allestar Tower?" she asked. "Or rather, who are they looking for?"
Agarth sighed, blade back up. "Have you ever heard of the Well of Souls, Miss Arrowny?" he asked. A negative shake of her head answered that question. "It was a project that the gnomes were working on that finally achieved results."
"As for who they are looking for," Faith added, "it's me. I'm the end result of that project."
"Oh," was really all Gwyn could say at that point. She was probably going to need a more lengthily explanation later on, but considering the fact that they were about to be attacked by a horde of fanatical monsters, that could wait. "Do you have an idea as to how many we're facing?"
Faith turned to look at her for a second. "I didn't exactly have time to do a head count." Okay, she was being a little pissy, but she had a good reason. Not even a day in the world, and already she had been attacked twice. What deity did she manage to anger to the point of this being her life so far?
Agarth grinned. "If this is a different group from the one that attacked the Tower, we can probably expect two dozen warriors. All of them will probably be equipped with prismere swords or daggers, and most will be lacking in the caution sense. We need to take out their leader."
"How will we know which one is the leader?"
"He'll be the one shouting orders and generally using his head."
"In other words, he'll actually be smart enough to coordinate."
"Pretty much."
Faith quickly fired an arrow off, earning a sudden cry of pain as it connected with its target. She quickly notched another arrow, taking aim again. A Tuatha warrior coming into view quickly found his skull having a new occupant as the iron arrow slid into the small opening slot of his helmet, penetrating his eye socket and punching through bone. He stumbled for a second before falling down.
Of course, right behind him were about a large number of Tuatha. And, unless she was mistaken, there were more than two dozen there.
"Well," Agarth noted, even as she let loose another shot, "I guess you're more important than even Hughes thought if they're sending this large of a force."
"Just wish I knew why! Coming back to life cannot be that impressive, considering that they do it all of time!" Faith fired one more arrow, then ducked when several arrows flew overhead. She took stock of her quiver, noting that she was almost out, and almost snarled. "This is getting us nowhere! We need to get into the ruins, use them to our advantage!"
Gwyn gestured. "This way!" she shouted, heading back in the direction she had come from. "We can use the standing structure for cover!"
Agarth and Faith quickly followed, trusting her to have an idea as to where they were going.
It wasn't like they had any alternatives.
The Tuatha Commander looked around, observing his troops as they swarmed the Varani ruins, lips curling up into a sneer. Why these mortals found the ancient past so interesting was beyond him, especially since it all would turn to dust one day. But what dustlings did as a whole with their time was of no concern to them.
Only one of them was worthy of attention at this point. So he would focus his full attention on that one dustling.
His second in command came up to him. "She has retreated into the ruins, Sir," he reported, "and she is in the company of two others. They appear to be a Fate Weaver and a Warsworn."
"And will they be a threat to us?" the Commander asked disdainfully.
"Of course not, Sir. If anything, it simply gives us two targets to practice with."
"Good. Remember though; the girl must be captured and brought to our lord and master, and she must be alive. So… do try to not hurt her too badly."
The Tuatha bowed. "We shall not forget, Sir."
The Commander's sneer changed into a grin. He didn't really know why Gadflow wanted this one dustling, aside from the fact that she had been forged from that gnome's little science experiment. But it was not his place to question. His was only to obey.
And he would obey gladly.
The Shadow snarled silently as she watched the Tuatha began to enter the ruins, unable to believe this, trying to think of a plan. Her mentor, if that was who she really was, had only been brought back to life for not even a day, and she was already under attack twice?! Not acceptable!
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down enough to take actual stock of the battlefield. She noted that there were plenty of hiding spots among the debris. She also noted that not every Tuatha was actually entering the main structure, instead spreading out to cover any potential escape routes. The Tuatha Commander was heading for the structure with at least half of his force, planning to flush them out like rats. A simple plan, and it would be effective… if he had been dealing with anyone else.
And just like that, her plan solidified itself in her mind. She just need to perform some reconnaissance first, to see how many she was personally going to contend with…
Their flight was swift, if not easy.
It was as though the Tuatha were crawling out of the very ground, as they seemed to be popping up where ever they went. There were a few times that they were certain that they would be killed. Thankfully, that turned out not to be the case, as the three mortals managed to enter the main structure, disappearing.
Quickly shifting down hallways with a speed that she wouldn't normally possess, Gwyn led Agarth and Faith to what looked like a dead end, before pressing on a protrusion in the wall. The wall slid down after a few moments, revealing a room on the other side. They slipped in, before the Warsworn hit another protrusion, bringing the wall back up. And just in the nick of time, as the pounding of a few dozen footsteps soon followed, never slowing down once. All three breathed a sigh of relief at that.
Faith looked around, taking in their current surroundings. "Well, I have to admit, these Varani sure knew what they were doing," she stated after a moment. "How did you find this place?"
Gwyn shrugged modestly. "I came across it completely by accident," she replied. "The Varani were able to make the most of their construction capability by getting rid of easily breakable doors and simply develop some sort of automatic system. Touch a protrusion and it acts like a signal of sorts. Then, utilizing some sort of pulley system that so far, no one has been able to duplicate, it lowers the wall into the floor, allowing for easy access."
Agarth nodded. "The Fae use something similar, although their methods actually use the natural flora to their advantage. A lot of scientists debate as to which species learned it from the other." He looked around. "This looked to be a storage space."
"It was, though it held more than simply supplies." Gwyn pointed to the wall. "Those look to be weapons racks," she noted. "What they held, I can't say. I do know that they didn't hold swords and the like. Perhaps some sort of highly advanced projectile weaponry."
"Perhaps." Faith looked around. "There isn't really anything we can use for cover, and I don't think the Tuatha are going to search very long before they decide to just raze this building to the ground. Any ideas?"
"Maybe..." Gwyn walked over to one of the walls, pressing another button. A smaller opening appeared. "I've had enough time to map out a good portion of these corridors," she explained. "The rooms interconnect by a series of small passageways, all of which are underground. We can probably use them to try and catch the Tuatha by surprise."
Agarth nodded. "That could work. I had to do something similar during my time as a sword for hire. Were you able to find any kind of traps that we could use?"
"Just ten steel bear traps that were left over from a group of hunters. They still work, and I redistribute them whenever I entered a new area."
"Where are they now?" Faith asked.
"In what might have been a craft room," Gwyn replied. "It'll probably be for the best if we avoid that room for now."
Faith nodded. "Agreed. Agarth, any ideas on how we can funnel them into that room, while also thinning out their numbers?"
Agarth nodded. "We remove any light source we can find in the main hallways. The Tuatha can't see in the dark when they're inside a building like this, so that gives us an advantage."
"Where's the best spots to set up an ambush?"
Gwyn smiled. "Right this way," she replied, heading into the passageway, Agarth and Faith right behind her.
Twenty three Tuatha. That was how many she counted scouring the ruins. All fully armored and ready for a fight. Generally overkill, especially when dealing with just three people. Of course, if it was her Mentor, then they should have brought more.
The Shadow flitted about, avoiding their surprisingly watchful eyes as she identified every last one of them, as well as their locations. She needed a plan of attack, as simply going in knives slashing was a rather bad idea. But what to do?
She was able to count five archers, six scouts with daggers, four spear wielders, two heavy melee fighters, and six duelists armed with dual Faeblades. A pretty deadly group to deal with. And if she were anyone else, she would never even try.
Unfortunately for these fools, she wasn't just anyone else.
Recon completed, she began to map out her plan of attack. Who did she take out first, and who did she avoid? The Scouts had to be the first to go, obviously, as they would be the ones to detect her first. They were pretty good at spotting objects that weren't supposed to be there.
The Archers would have to be next, as they had a long range weapon to their advantage. She had to get close to them without being detected. Luckily, this was sort of her specialty.
The melee fighters were going to be more difficult, simply due to the weapons and armor they possess. Thankfully, she had been taught to find the chinks in any suit of armor. In a close range fight, she would prevail through sheer speed and precision.
The duelists would prove to be the most difficult to take out. They weren't as slow as the melee fighters, and their weapons did have the added advantage of acting as added defense against her own daggers. And there were six of them. She would have to be extra careful with them, catch them by surprise. Her gaze shifted to the trees. She could lure them into the forest… but how?
A smile tugged at her lips. She knew how. Her Mentor would be proud.
Agarth, in all of his life, can safely say that he had never had a day like this.
He had stood on the battlefield against trolls when he was just a child, had single-handedly saved a small town from a bandit raid, and had faced off with the Tuatha on three separate occasions. He almost died from three different diseases, and had been poisoned by a bandit's arrow. So, it was a safe bet that he had pretty much seen it all at this point.
Meeting Faith, as well as their current actions, had reminded him that there was still a whole lot in the world that he had yet to witness.
Somehow, someway, Gwyn had managed to lead them down paths that avoided the Tuatha, setting up ambushes in the most innocuous locations. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't have worked, but most Tuatha didn't really think about such things as strikes from the shadows. They were, for the most part, more used to intimidating their opponents on an open battlefield… or when they were massacring a group of civilians.
The Tuatha Commander would be different, of course. He would still have his faculties about him, and he would be aware of his surroundings. Finally, he would keep a small personal guard with him. And he should know. His last encounter with such a Tuatha had nearly seen him torn limb from limb by his fellows. He barely got away with his life.
But he wasn't the target. His soldiers were.
Faith, it seemed, was just as good a fighter up close as she was with a bow. She was also quite good being light on her feet. He watched as she slid behind patrols, literally stabbing them in the back before they could cry out for help. Those she wasn't able to get the drop on, she took out with simple tactics and superior sword work (though how that rusted hunk of metal managed to survive all of the abuse being put on it was anyone's guess.)
He and Gwyn were faring pretty well themselves. The Warsworn's spear gave her an advantage against many of the close range combatants, and she was damn good at it. His own battlefield experience and fierceness allowed him to overpower even the rabid Tuatha's crazy strength, so long as he caught them off guard.
After about a few hours, the three of them reconvened in a hidden room to rest, and take stock on how many of them they had taken out altogether, and how many more were left. Between the three of them, they had gotten almost half of the force that had followed them in, and if the bellows of fury were of any indication, they were definitely making progress on the Tuatha Commander's patience.
"How much longer before we spring the trap?" Agarth asked.
"Very soon," Faith replied. "If we don't, I get the feeling they'll just go ahead with the demolition." Her gaze shifted. "But we need to rest for a second."
Gwyn nodded as she sat down, leaning against the wall, and closing her eyes. It was obvious that she hadn't really had any time to relax that day, and there probably wouldn't be a moment to later.
Agarth followed suit, going through a breathing exercise that he had perfected years ago. A soldier who panicked on the battlefield was more of a threat to himself and his own people than to the enemy he faces. He also found that it worked to focus one's mind before Seeing into the Tapestry.
Faith also closed her eyes, though for different reasons. Unlike the other two, she had been fighting pretty much since she woke up. If she could doze even for a few moments, then it would be worth it…
-
All around her, there were flames. Flames in front of her, to her sides, behind her. She stumbled, coming to one knee. Blood dripped from her mouth.
She was dying. She knew that, as the pain she was feeling gave way to a creeping numbness. But she wasn't dead yet. There was still a chance.
That is… until a shadow fell over her. She looked up, staring into a pair a glowing red eyes. Eyes that seemed to peer into her soul.
A roar ripped through the air, buffeting her and a wall of purple energy blinded her vision…
-
"Faith!" a voice shouted, a hand shaking her vigorously.
With a start, Faith's eyes snapped open, looking around wildly. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and with who.
Agarth was right next to her, watching her with concern. He had emerged from his meditation just in time to see her beginning to shift about in what looked like fear. Realizing that they needed to wake her up from what was undoubtedly a nightmare, he had gone to do so. "It's alright," he said quietly, now that she as focusing on him. "It was just a nightmare. Are you alright?"
Faith nodded after a few seconds, getting her breathing back to normal. "About as alright as can be expected," she replied after a moment, getting up. "Did I fall asleep, and how long has it been?"
Gwyn, who had been watching, answered. "Only thirty minutes." She looked at her. "Do you remember what your nightmare was about?"
"… … Fire… blood… glowing red eyes that seemed otherworldly… and a wall of purple energy..." Faith shook her head. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that I had just seen the final moments of my life. But where does the wall of purple energy come in?"
Agarth frowned at that. "I don't know… but I can at least give you an idea as to what it might be." He moved a bit away, then held up a finger. A small spark of purple danced at the tip for a brief second, before vanishing.
"What was that?" Gwyn asked immediately, as both she and Faith looked at him in surprise.
"That was Fate energy," he replied. "Fate Weavers are trained to use it for our craft, as it's what we use to peer into the Tapestry of Fate." He sighed. "However, I've never heard of any being capable of creating a wall of such energy, though I'll admit that I haven't seen everything in this world."
Faith stretched out, working the kinks out. "Well, perhaps it's better that way. I feel like some things should never be seen, or remembered." Her gaze hardened. "But right now, we have more immediate concerns."
"Agreed. Gwyn?"
The Warsworn nodded. "The rest of them will have regrouped by now. We won't be able to pick them apart like before, so we should try and spring the trap now."
It sounded like a good idea to them all, so they headed out.
"They are only three!" the Commander snarled. "Three! How are they able to maneuver around us with such ease that they have taken out half of our forces already?!"
"We are uncertain, Commander, but I suspect they might be using the corridors to their advantage," the lieutenant replied, the remnants of their attack force surrounding them. "The Varani were quite good at putting secret passageways."
"Well, find the corridors, you fool! Have our men begin combing the walls themselves! Inspect every single crevice!"
The lieutenant scurried away, leaving the Commander alone for a second to ponder this mission. The Dustling they were chasing was starting to prove to both a nuisance and a danger. He was beginning to understand why Gadflow wanted her so badly. Such a warrior would be useful against their enemies.
At the same time… it was also the reason why they should just destroy her. She had made it out of the Tower, and with only two others, is managing to fight off a force three times their size. Such a threat should be destroyed before it entered a position where it could end their Master's plans.
His gaze grew more ponderous as something occurred to him. They obviously knew that he was the head of the attack force, so why were they trying to thin out his forces first? The woman was obviously a skilled archer, so why did she not try to take him out right now?
He then answered his own question; because he was the only thing controlling his forces. Without him, they would go on a killing spree, following their standing orders. Those orders simply being; kill everything that moves.
And there was the dustling village of Gorhart nearby…
'How… noble of them,' he mused, gesturing a subordinate over. A new plan began to simmer in his mind, and he had a good feeling that it would flush her out into the open. "Go back outside, and tell those outside to make for Gorhart," he ordered. "Burn the village to the ground."
The soldier bowed and departed. The Commander grinned. Now they had them.
If only he knew...
The patrol outside didn't know what hit them.
They had followed their orders to the letter, locating any possible escape routes that their quarry could use, as well as planting prismere charges around the exterior of the ruins. If things went poorly, they would destroy the place, hopefully killing the woman in the process. They would not allow a threat like her to exist… except to serve them.
They would never the chance to do that. Nor would they receive their new orders from their Commander. The Shadow would see to that.
The Scouts were indeed the first to go. She caught each of them by surprise, stabbing and slitting their throats before they could sound the alarm. So far, so good.
Unfortunately for her, her plan was pretty much a failure afterward. As soon as she turned a corner, she literally ran into one of the melee fighters. Reacting almost immediately, she swiftly slammed both daggers into his throat. She was a tad late, as he had already made enough noise to alert his fellows. "Dammit!" she grunted, quickly breaking into a run. The Archers would soon be out of sight, and the remaining melee fighter was most likely heading for the source of the commotion. She had to take them out quickly, before they began trying to use her for target practice.
Luckily, the Tuatha were many things, but being able to hide was not one of them. She was able to locate three of the four archers with ease, taking them out before they could retaliate.
The fourth one, on the other hand, showed a little more intelligence, and a great deal more restraint. Instead of simply trying to take her out, he managed to get out of sight, and silently muttered an invisibility spell. He knew a lost cause when he saw one, and he had a suspicion that his commander was going to die.
So he remained quiet, barely breathing as the Shadow flew past him, looking for his whereabouts no doubt. Well, he wasn't going to give it to her. He would live.
The Shadow, on the other hand was getting a little frustrated. If even one of them managed to escape, they would come for her teacher all over again. And this time, they would know what she looked like. But there was no way that last one managed to get away so quickly.
A noise from behind her caught her attention; the sound of a heavily armored boot striking hard rock. Her response was immediate.
The lieutenant had just exited the ruins, and had instantly caught sight of the bodies laying all around the ground, and realized that they had another threat to worry about. He quickly began turning around, forgoing stealth for speed. It would prove to be his last mistake, as a knife made contact with his knee, effectively disabling him. Before even a grunt of pain could issue from his throat, a hand gripped his head and pulled it back, another knife sliding across his throat.
The Shadow nodded, collecting her knives and wiping them clean. "Whew," she grunted, sheathing them. "And here I thought I was going to miss one." She looked around. "I hope they can take care of the rest." If she was right, those Tuatha didn't stand a chance. Now, about that last melee fighter…
The sound of heavy boots coming from her right caught her attention, and her stance shifted. 'Oh, there he is,' she thought, as he came charging toward her, weapon already out. Her own knives were back out immediately. 'Time to see if all of that training really paid off...'
The Tuatha Commander waited for his messenger to return, though he had a sneaking suspicion that he would be in for a long wait. After all, it didn't take this long to deliver a message.
He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that their quarry could not have gotten to the soldier. And no Tuatha would dare flee from their duty. Desertion was met with immediate execution, with no chance of sparing a life. Which left only one possibility.
There was yet another being at play, dealing with their forces outside… and being highly successful for it. He had no doubt what organization that being belonged to.
Pulling out a small communication crystal and activating it, he waited patiently, if a bit fearful.
A face appeared, one bearing a crown. Nothing really remarkable about this Tuatha other than that. In fact, if a dustling were to simply look at his image, they would have said that there was nothing that differentiated him from the rest.
But it was that crown that made the Commander bow his head in subservience, the look in his eyes that made him tremble a little in fear. This was the Unseelie that had showed them the way, the one who had killed the King of the Winter Court.
This was Gadflow, master of the Tuatha Deohn. The powerful of their forces, and the emissary of their new god.
"What is it, Commander?" he asked pleasantly enough. "Have you contacted me with good news concerning your great mission?"
"No, my Lord," he replied. "I have called with bad news. It appears the Organization has become involved once again in our affairs. I believe that one of the their number has killed a number of my men. And our prey has proven far more elusive and dangerous." He waited for the inevitable threat and subsequent pain that would follow.
Instead, what he heard was a brief chuckle from his Master. "I shall be honest, Commander… I suspected that those two things would happen, which was why I had you sent with such a large force. I knew just how dangerous the Dustling was as well as the Organization." The image smiled. "There will be no retreat, Commander. There is no need. Continue on with your mission, safe in the knowledge that you will be restored in a few week's time."
"By your command, my Lord." The Commander cut the magic to the crystal, before turning to his remaining forces. His Master had not expected success, which meant that he would try his hardest to succeed. "Let us go and meet our Fates!" he roared.
They roared in agreement, their fervor to their cause plain on their faces. As one, they moved forward, toward their destiny… such as it was.
Faith finished covering the last trap, nodding to herself. "There, that should do it."
Agarth observed the room, nodding in approval. None of the traps were readily visible. There was plenty of room to move around. The room itself also had no corners, so it would pretty difficult to box any one of them in. And they did have a way to escape with the hidden passageway.
Of course, there was plenty that could still go wrong. The very room had no hiding spots to speak of, and there was no higher ground to utilize. They had done all they could to thin them out. This could very well be their final stand.
Gwyn's ears perked up. "Here they come!" she hissed, her grip tightening on her spear.
Faith stepped away, readying her bow. A quick inventory showed that she had three arrows left, which meant she would have to make each shot count. After that, she would have to utilize her rusty ass sword, and she had a feeling that it wouldn't last long in battle.
Strangely enough, it brought with it a vague sense of deja-vu, like she had been in a similar situation before. She could only hope that she had managed to survive that.
Then the first Tuatha appeared in the corridor, and she pushed that feeling to the back of her mind. Distraction would be what got her killed.
The Tuatha stopped right at the door, taking a look at them as they stood ready to fight, before laying his gaze on his target. Grinning, he took a step inside. "So, you are the dustling that my Master is so interested in meeting," he noted. "The one who was brought back to life."
Faith refrained from rolling her eyes. How this Tuatha even knew about that, she didn't know. Nor did she care. "Yes, that is me," she replied steadily, keeping her aim on him. "I'm going to assume that you are the one who is in charge."
"You assume correctly. And I have to admit, you and colleagues have done pretty well for yourselves. You managed to cause me a great deal of damage without getting injured yourself." His grin was quite malicious, belying his genial tones. "It almost makes me want to let you go… almost."
"You may want to remove the almost. It's the only way you'll live to fight another day," Gwyn replied. "If we die, you can be assured that the Warsworn will hunt you down."
The Commander let out a chuckle at that. "What Warsworn? The bulk of your force is already at Mel Senshir, already fighting a losing battle against my brethren. Whatever you have left here, is little more than a shadow of its former might. And even if they did send a group out… how would they find us? This continent is large, so they would never be able to find us before we returned home."
"Well, I guess we'll just have to kill you and the rest of your fanatic group before we leave then," Agarth stated. "So come on."
"With pleasure." He stepped to the side. "Attack!"
Suddenly, the room filled with Tuatha warriors, weapons out. With a bellow of fanatic zeal that damn near burst Faith's eardrums, they charged…
Only for a few of them to let out a cry of severe pain as the traps latched onto their feet, breaking their ankles despite the armor of their boots. And, before they could even decide to cut off the offending limbs like the rabid animals they were, Faith's final arrows found homes within their craniums.
Unfortunately for the three of them, the rest of the Tuatha were far luckier, having avoided a similar fate by dint of their approach vectors. Faith immediately pulled her 'sword' out, and braced herself.
And, shockingly enough, it still remained intact when a Tuatha's prismere blade slammed into it with the force of a troll. She was brought to one knee, a spasm of pain going through her arms, but her head remained attached to her shoulders. She pushed back, getting back to her feet, immediately blocking a strike from another attacker. She was far more successful staying upright, whirling around to kick the new attacker directly in the face(simply because she was not wearing a helmet.) Using that momentum, she ducked under her first attackers' new assault, sword slicing across his knee. When he went down, she ended his life.
A brief look around saw that her comrades were faring just as well. Agarth had dispatched one of his attackers and was trading blows with two others, while Gwyn was making her way through them with an ease that would be disturbing to look at, had it not been effective. Warsworn indeed.
And then her attention was refocused as her second attacker got back on her feet. Not even picking up her sword, she charged forward, slamming into Faith like a bull just as the Almainian. Faith managed to use that momentum to her advantage by immediately collapsing onto her back, planting her foot into the Tuatha's abdomen, and flipping her over her head. A thud, followed by the really loud snap of steel jaws, told her exactly where that warrior had landed. She didn't give her a second glance(mostly because she really didn't want to see what body part had been crushed,) and got back up… only to meet the Tuatha Commander's blade with her own.
And in this moment, Faith learned one more crucial difference between a regular Tuatha and a Tuatha Commander; their fighting capability.
A regular Tuatha with a close range weapon was a fairly decent fighter. Once could say that there was a certain terror to be had as they charged forward, hitting with brutal sweeps, overpowering their opponents defenses. But if one survived their initial assault, then their attack kind of fell apart.
The Tuatha Commander on the other hand… he knew how to use a sword, and use it well. He was definitely not a rabid dog, and the zeal of fanaticism had not destroyed his intellect.
That Commander's swept her blade to the side and gave her a kick to the chest, forcing her to stumble back. And, through her efforts to force oxygen back into her temporarily paralyzed lungs, she noted the fact that she may have had a few cracked ribs due to the pain.
She hit the wall behind her, taking a moment to recover, before taking in the sight of her opponent coming at her, his fist up and driving toward her head. She managed to get out of the way, getting behind him, and kicking him just as he turned around, slamming him into the wall… and broke the wall, revealing a small enclave.
The Tuatha, in his heavy armor, barely felt the blow, though he was still aware of the kick. Taking a second to gather himself, he nodded at her in respect.
Faith, for reasons she would never understand, she returned it. The pain in her chest seemed to subside somewhat, though she chalked that up to adrenaline. Pushing that to the back of her mind, she immediately went forward, her blade thrusting out in a stabbing motion.
The Commander, moving faster than any being in armor should be able to, whirled out of the way, using his armored hand to hit her wrist. In a reflexive response, her grip immediately loosened, and her sword flew forward without her. It skidded across the floor of the new room, dropping into a hole only a few feet away with a light splash.
Faith turned on her heel, managing to grab his sword wrist in both hands, then bashing it into the wall, until finally, he was forced to let go. His elbow slammed into her face, knocking her back. Then he turned around, his fist coming forward. Without any other options open to her, brought her arm up to block.
The resounding crack as the bone taking the brunt of the fist snapped was a true testament of the force behind the blow. He then grabbed her, tossing her into the new room, before grabbing his weapon.
Only to have to whirl around to block an attack from Agarth.
Faith hit the ground on her now bad arm, a cry of pain emerging from her throat. Rolling onto her back, she brought the arm up, immediately seeing the bone poking through the skin. 'Crap, this is bad!' she thought. This was going to take a long time to heal, and she wouldn't be able to use the arm for that long. She was essentially without an arm, and in her current predicament, that was dangerous.
Agarth was doing rather well for himself. As an experienced swordsman, he had plenty of different tactics and skills that he could all upon to aid him in his fight here, not to mention a certain wish to live.
He also had a Warsworn to back him up.
Gwyn came at the Tuatha as he managed to force the Fate Weaver back, spear coming forward. He managed to deflect it away from him, following it with brutal straight shot to her face. He immediately moved as Agarth tried to get him from behind, reengaging with the stalwart warrior.
Faith watched the other woman discard her spear, which really wasn't a weapon you wanted to use in an enclosed space, and drew a dagger. Relieved that they could handle themselves for a bit, she began crawling toward the strange pool. Despite the state of the blade, it was still the only weapon she had left. She still had one good arm, so she could still fight. She would just need to be extra careful concerning her bad arm.
A sudden shiver of pain suddenly radiated from the limb in question forced her to stop her forward momentum, and sat upright, observing the injury. For a second, she thought it was worse than she thought.
What she saw… was completely impossible.
The bone was actually going back under the skin, a faint green glow surrounding it. Another shudder of pain wracked the limb as she literally felt the bone knit itself together. Then, in a motion that just proved the sheer impossibility of what she was seeing, she watched as the wound closed completely, leaving behind only a thin scar. Then, mere seconds later, even that was gone. It was as if she had never been injured in the first place.
Flexing her arm, testing it out, she found that she did indeed have full use of the arm. This was something that she had never expected to see happen… but there it was.
The clanging of steel, and the sound of a body hitting the floor brought her back to her current predicament. Hoping against hope that the bone would withstand the force of blocking another blade, she immediately plunged her hand into the pool, blindly searching for her weapon.
Her fingers brushed against a solid object, and she grabbed it, bringing it up.
Gwyn hit the ground, her dagger slipping from her grasp. Agarth had already been incapacitated, though he was still alive. She reached for her blade, only for an armored boot to land in front of her. Slowly, she looked upward, into the eyes of the Commander, his blade up and ready. He inclined his head in respect. "You fought well," he said, before bringing the blade down. She closed her eyes.
Only to hear the clang of metal against metal as that sword was blocked. Her eyes flew open, taking in the source of her salvation.
The Tuatha Commander was also rather surprised by this. The only other two who could have done anything had been neutralized, even if they hadn't been killed. So who dared to get in the way? And what kind of sword was this?
Looking at the owner of the blade answered one of those questions. Apparently, he had not done a good enough job dealing with the girl.
Faith returned his stare evenly, before forcing the blade away, forcing him to focus his full attention on her. She raised her blade. "Shall we finish our little discussion?" she asked.
"We shall," was the reply, before he moved forward, coming in with a wide slash, which she immediately blocked. The two warriors began to trade strikes, thrusts, and parries; a deadly dance that was truly a sight to behold.
And, in a strange reversal of sorts, the Tuatha now realized that he had underestimated this woman. Her skill with a sword was actually very impressive. Far greater than his, in fact, now that they were engaged in an actual sword fight. And wherever she managed to get that sword, it was definitely able to take a hit from a prismere sword without breaking. His understanding as to why his Master wanted this woman continued to grow. Whether she remembered or not, she clearly had training, and experience in battle. Experience that had somehow followed her into her new life… which made her very dangerous.
He was beginning to have the feeling that he was not going to win this encounter.
Faith set about proving him correct when, with blades locked, she suddenly whirled, breaking the lock, before slicing across the back of his leg. His equilibrium broken, he collapsed to the ground. His sword was soon kicked from his hand and out of reach. At long last, it was over.
Faith kept her blade pointed at the Tuatha while Gwyn got to her feet. "You okay?" she asked.
Gwyn nodded. "I'll be fine," she replied. "How about you, Agarth?"
Agarth grinned, retrieving his weapon. "A little tired, but I'll be fine after a drink." He looked down at the Commander. "You might as well put him out of his misery. Gadflow will probably end him for failing."
Faith heard, and knew why he said that. And it did make sense. If they didn't, this being would face a far worse fate for his failure. And there was the fact that this was a member of the race that had killed so many gnomes just a short while ago. If their positions had been reversed, she could expect no mercy from him.
She glared down at their fallen opponent, restraining herself from ending him outright. Instead, she asked, "Why does your Master want me?" she asked. "Is it because of the Well of Souls?"
The Tuatha chuckled at that. "I suspect that is indeed the case," he replied, gripping his leg wound in an effort to staunch the flow of ichor. "In my opinion, we should just kill you… but my Master believes you to be useful."
"For what purpose?"
"It is not for me to know. What he wants, he will get, regardless of how many of us must fall to get it. So kill me… if you think you can stomach murdering a fallen warrior who can no longer defend himself."
"You're going to kill me? I'm no threat to you or your group! I can't even fight anymore!"
"What you know is too great a risk. If it were to get out, countless lives would be at risk."
"Please… my family needs me..."
"… I'm sorry… There is no other choice..."
Faith blinked a little at the words that went through her mind, finding herself comparing them to the conversation now. They were completely different, both in wording and tone, but that one statement, killing a defenseless being after the battle was over, was forefront. And as such, she made her choice.
She bashed the hilt of her sword into the Tuatha's head, rendering him unconscious. "I don't know what I was like in my prior life," she informed him, "but I will not kill a defenseless being. Not even sadistic scum, like you." She looked at Agarth and Gwyn, both who had been watching her. She saw nothing but understanding in their gazes. "We should get out of here, before the rest of his group decides to come looking for him."
"Good idea," Agarth replied, grinning. "You coming, Gwyn?"
"Definitely. The Warsworn need to be warned about this." Gwyn nodded. "Before we head out though… Faith, where did you get that sword? What happened to the rusty metal bar you were using?"
Faith looked down, showing them the handle. "I think… this is that rusty metal bar," she replied. "I pulled it out of a pool of some metallic looking liquid from that room behind us."
The three of them went to take a look in that room, looking at the rippling pool. None of them had ever seen anything like this before, though in Faith's case, that was a foregone conclusion.
Gwyn finally gasped, as a thought came to her. "This is a Varani regeneration pool," she whispered in surprise. "According to the ancient texts, this was how they preserved all of their tools and weapons. Even the most heavily damaged items could be made to look like new. In fact, if it was completely rusted like yours was, then it could even double the durability of the item." She looked at the sword. "What kind of metal is that made of, anyway?"
Faith shrugged, eyeing the blade. "I have no idea. I literally found this in Allestar Tower's basement only a minute after waking up." She sheathed it. "Well, enough exploring. Let's get out of here."
They agreed whole heartedly.
"Well," Agarth noted as the three of them packed up his little camp site, "you have to admit that this is a day you'll never forget, if nothing else."
Faith nodded. "Brought back to life by some massive machine, have to fight my way through a large number of rabid dogs impersonating warriors, escape a tower that's coming down all around me, then run around an ancient ruin fighting even more of the same. All because I actually survived the process." She sighed. "You know, most one day old's are wrapped in nappies, crying for their mothers. And here I am, hands proverbially covered in blood."
"Better than having your own blood covering them." Gwyn gestured. "How's your arm? Because I honestly thought it had been shattered."
The Almain took a look at the arm in question, flexing it out. "It was," she replied, still a little mystified. "But I literally just watched as it fixed itself. It's like it was never broken at all. And the pain in my ribs is gone." She grinned. "Looks like the Well gave me an additional perk; faster healing."
Agarth grinned. "And that Varani regeneration pool did the same with your sword. It looks so different without all of the rust and cracks in it."
"Definitely." The handle hadn't changed at all, though it no longer looked as worn, revealing that handle and blade were in fact one piece. The blade guard was now the color of polished bronze, shining dully in the setting sun. The blade itself, on the other hand, almost look like steel, though they all agreed that it was probably a metal on par with prismere. And it was definitely sharp. The Tuatha Commander knew that very well now. An actual scabbard and repair kit would be needed to keep it that way.
Faith strapped it to her makeshift one, accepting a bag of dried nuts and fruits from the Fate Weaver. "Now that we are out of immediate danger, could one of you tell me more about these Tuatha? I mean, what drives them to do what they are doing?
Agarth popped some nuts into his mouth, chewing for a few minutes, and swallowing. "Well… the Tuatha didn't always exist," he replied. "Once, they were part of the Winter Fae, the Unseemlie of Klurikon. They were a peaceful group, though more depressing in their scope. They were the physical representation of decay, the end of Summer. Quite the opposite to their Summer brethren." He sighed. "About ten years ago, that changed."
Gwyn nodded, eyes darkened. "One of their own court suddenly killed the Winter King, using power that the Fae had never seen before to accomplish it. This Fae managed to convince their brethren that a new good was going to be born in the west, one that would wipe all of the young races so the Fae would reign supreme. This Fae was the Court 'Jester,' if they had had such a title there."
"His name is Gadflow," Agarth finished darkly. "The Mad King of Amithyn."
Faith's attention suddenly focused on Agarth with a startling intensity. "Gadflow?" she repeated, an undertone of anger creeping in to her immense confusion. Why did she feel such anger?
Agarth, being the sort of man that he was, was able to put together rather quickly, and make a few educated guesses of his own. "Judging by your reaction to that name, I think it's safe to say that you probably met that bastard in your prior life. And it didn't end well."
"You're probably right, though now I want to know how that is." She looked around. "That can wait though. We should get to Gorhart right now, just on the off chance there are more of them roaming about."
Gwyn stood up, grabbing her spear. "Good idea," she replied. "I need to alert the Warsworn about what happened anyway, and there is a scout semi permanently stationed there, looking for new recruits. He'll be able to get the warning out to the nearest Keep."
Agarth nodded. "And what about you, Gwyn?" he asked.
"I'll have to report back to Helmgard. If the Tuatha have managed to bypass Mel Senshir entirely, then we'll have to mobilize."
Faith sighed. "It's best that we stay together, then. I get the feeling separating would be a bad idea, especially if there were any other survivors aside from our friend in there." She grabbed her bag, which she had left behind when the Tuatha had attacked. "Well, let's get going. I want to get to Gorhart before midnight."
The Shadow watched as the three warriors started on their way to Gorhart, breathing out in relief. None of them had questioned as to where the rest of the Tuatha were (though to be fair, considering how many had gone in after them, they probably thought that there were all dead.) She had hidden the corpses in the woods, on the off chance any of their brethren decided to show up.
She wanted to join them, wanted to see what her own mentor remembered, but she held back. It just wasn't a good idea, and just for that very reason. She needed to know what she remembered, if their organization was safe from exposure before making contact. So she would leave her be for now, even if every fiber of her being railed at the idea.
There was something she could do, though. She could alert her Elder's of both the success of the Well of Souls, as well as the aftermath. They would need to be prepared for when their enemy makes its attempt to return.
She hoped that they could, anyway.
The Tuatha Commander finally managed to limp out of the ruins, fury and pain running in tandem with one another. Despite knowing that their mission had never been intended to be successful, the fact that the woman had opted to spare his life was infuriating! She would pay for her arrogance. His Master would see to it.
"Sir?"
The Commander's attention focused on the Scout who had just appeared, expression unreadable. His bow held loosely in his hand. "So, I am not the only one who survived," he growled. "At least I can say it was because the Dustling was foolish enough to spare me. What is your excuse?"
"The Organization's Shadow. She was the one who massacred our forces out here." The Scout stopped when he was only a few feet away. "Our lord needs to be informed of our failure. Punishment may very well be swift."
"Yes, it will."
Suddenly, the Scout brought his bow, an arrow notched into it. Before the Commander could even think of reacting, an arrow found a new home in his heart. A look of betrayal crossed his face as he fell to the ground, dead.
"Punishment is swift indeed," the Scout commented casually, removing the communication device from the Commander's wrist, and triggering it. "It is done, my Lord."
"Excellent. You have proven yourself worthy. You are now Commander. Meet with your forces on the continent, and prepare for the Dustling's next move. She will try to acquire the Codex."
"As you command, Lord Gadflow." The new Commander deactivated the device, then smiled. "Perhaps Sir, you will find better success in Klurikon," he told the now rapidly disintegrating body. "Besides, just because he said that he wasn't expecting failure, doesn't mean you fail anyway."
With those parting words, Malwyn, newest Commander of the Tuatha Deohn teleported away, returning to their base of operations. There was much to do to prepare for the Dustling's coming.
He wondered if he would prove any more successful in this task… or if he too would fail.
Okay, I figured that I should give some information concerning the concept I'm working on. According to Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, your character has been given the power to change Fate due to dying at the hands of a god-like being, thus making your Avatar the Chosen One. I'm changing it up a little. Instead of her being prophesized to change Fate, Faith will literally have no Fate… which will make her far more dangerous. I'll flesh it out as the story progresses. Hopefully, I do a good enough job on that.
If anyone wants to know what other lives Faith will have, aside from the one we already know about, let me know.