No. Mind over matter he tried to think, but instead he heard a hyperventilating wheeze that he realized was actually coming from him. I’m having an asthma attack, Dean thought. Even though I don’t have asthma. My body is giving up. I’m going to die…
“Dean! Slow breaths!” he heard Marcy – in her elvish form wail from where she, too, was held against the ground by an invisible hand.
“I can’t do this, I can’t, Marcy…” he started to say, reaching for the Quit.
“Winters!” Crusher called out in alarm from his immobilized position, able to see the creature looming over his human friend.
“Wiiinterss…” The Guardian suddenly stopped, jerking backward. “The Sorcerer Winters?” it said in a voice sounding like shadows and crunching glass.
Dean, still panicking and hyperventilating, was too shocked to do or say anything – either to Quit out of the game or to answer the thing.
“You are to be saved.” The Guardian straightened slowly back up. “You have a role to play yet.”
The thing’s words cut through Dean’s panic. “What?” he started to say. He didn’t know if the others could hear the thing’s whisper-crunch voice, or just him.
“The Lady,” the thing whispered. “The Lady wants you saved.” At those words, the Guardian turned its steady gait, and started back towards the other side of the track to follow its brethren as if nothing had ever bothered it.
Guardian Defeated! 700 XP!
“Holy crap,” Dean was saying, his heart still hammering as the power that held them all lifted from them as the creature vanished into the gloom. In a moment, Mirelle was skidding across the forest floor to his side, one elvish hand on his virtual chest, the other snapping fingers in front of the sorcerer’s face.
“Dean – I mean, Winters? Are you okay? Breathe, like I showed you,” she was muttering quickly, looking at him as if she could diagnose what was happening to Dean’s mind through his avatar. Maybe she could.
Dean did so, breathing raggedly in, and then slowly out as the other adventurers gathered around him.
“What did that thing do to him?” Sari said, biting her lip in worry.
“Nothing. He’s going to be fine. He just needs some space, thank you!” Mirelle snipped at her, earning another chortling grunt from Crusher.
“Come on up, pal. Whatever you said to that thing, it worked.” The dwarf offered him his broad, gauntleted hand.
“It did?” Dean wondered as he stood up, nodding to Marcy that yes, he was indeed okay.
“What did you say to that thing? What was it – a magic spell? A special word?” Lady Jay frowned.
They didn’t hear what the Guardian said. Dean thanked whatever digital gods were listening.
“Er … it was a magic word I heard at the Aeturnum,” Dean said, mentioning the magical academy back at the King’s City. “I’m not allowed to tell, sorry…”
“Why didn’t you use it before…?” Jay shook her head indignantly, as both Mirelle and Crusher scowled a little. At least Crusher knew Dean hadn’t been to the Aeturnum. They know I haven’t had any official training in the sorcerers’ arts at all, Dean thought, looking at them with a nervous smile.
“Here, you,” Mirelle sighed, holding her hands in front of his chest as white light spread from them and into him.
6 Health!
“Wow, thank you…” Dean said, once again feeling like he was to blame for all of this mess, as he watched Mirelle heal Crusher as well. Dean knew it hadn’t been enough to restore him to full health, but enough that he wouldn’t have to Quit out of the game, or ask the party to stop and rest.
“How about you two? That Guardian was throwing us around like stick figures…” Mirelle turned to the other two women, but Jay just shook her head, producing more little phials from her belt – this time filled with a greenish vapor. “Health Elixirs,” she said by way of explanation, giving one to Sari and taking another herself.
When they appeared as ready as they were going to be, Mirelle shrugged and pointed further down the path that led through the trees. “I guess I’ll show you guys the place I call home, then.”
The company trudged forwards in silence. Dean was caught in his own worried thoughts. That Guardian knew of the Lady of Efen. How? Why does the Lady want me alive?
*
“Woah, now that is some impressive CGI….” Dean whispered, forgetting himself as they looked down on the hollow that contained the magical city of the elves of Aldaron.
The city – if that’s what it could be called — was located in a large hollow between a bowl of wooded hills, with the largest tree the size of a mountain in the center. That must be the tallest Malorn that we saw from the Wyvern Peaks, Dean thought to himself, as he saw that the trunk was easily as large as some castles. The other strange fact was that the entire place was lit with shards and dapples of light from above, as the canopy of the great tree almost completely covered the hollow – even though it must be hundreds of feet tall at its highest point.
It wasn’t murky down there though; there were many glowing balls of light that floated sedately above the buildings and through the air, creating a bright but not harsh glow for the elves of the Judgment to live in.
The settlement itself was probably much smaller than King’s City, and there was much more room between the buildings. In fact, it seemed as though many of the white-walled buildings had been planted where they were, amidst their own green swards and next to rises or besides waterfalls – as if they had been grown. Other, much smaller, more normal-sized trees shared the town space as much as the houses did, and there was also lots of water, Dean saw. At least two curving lakes sat at various places, with three rivers snaking through the hollow, with what appeared to be dark-hulled barges poling their way through. It was a town of bridges and boats, as much as it was trees and houses.
“Wow, Mirelle. Your pad is pretty tight,” Crusher said, forgetting his usual formal airs.
“Thanks, it’s great, huh?” The elf didn’t seem to mind the slip in character, nodding to where the path continued, sweeping under a tall archway of interwoven willow trees, and emerging into what Dean would have thought as parkland – only it also had houses and gravel paths and floating balls of light.
Everywhere he looked, Dean could see elves, and the great tree. It dominated the horizon like a mountain.
“I guess that’s the Oak Shrine?” he said to Mirelle, as she nodded demurely to the elvish guards, scowling at Crusher as they walked past.
“It is. That’s where the Queen of Oak resides, and I guess where you’ll have to go…” she said with a bit of a frown. “She doesn’t like humans, you know. Or, well, she doesn’t like the High King, anyway…”
“Treason!” the Lady Jay muttered, earning a stiffening stare from Mirelle.
“Just be careful, Jay. Around here, the elves see things a little differently,” she warned.
“Is there a library or a hall of records?” Dean asked. “Somewhere that might have more information about the Lady of Efen, and her weaknesses?”
“Oh yes.” Mirelle nodded, again towards the great tree. “The Scroll Library is in there, along with the Queen’s quarters.” A wary look. “Shall we tackle two birds with one stone?”
“Shall we get ourselves thrown in elvish jail?” Crusher said huffily, but he didn’t argue as Mirelle pointed toward a high, thin bridge arching over the nearest river, allowing barges to pass by underneath, and then through a forest of walkways, past houses, boulders, and trees towards the center of the Shrine.
BWAAAAR!
They hadn’t got very far at all when there was a loud, ringing call that shook the boughs of the great tree over their heads.
“Oh no – what is it?” Sari said in alarm. All of the party instantly expected the worst. All, it seemed, apart from Mirelle – who only frowned.
“That is a council call. Not a call to arms,” she said, breaking into a jog. Her c
ompanions followed her. “They aren’t common, but they aren’t unusual either. The Queen of Oak uses them when there is some important business to discuss….”
“It can’t be a coincidence!” Lady Jay said, and for once Dean agreed with her.
The Lady of Efen is released, attacks a human settlement not a few days away from here, and now the elvish queen wants to summon all of her most powerful councilors? The sorcerer in him didn’t like it one bit.
“At least there’s one good thing to this,” Mirelle surprised him by saying as they ran towards the giant tree. “While the Queen and the Councilors are busy, we can sneak into the Scroll Library!”
Chapter 20: The Scroll Library
“For God’s sake – be quiet!” Mirelle — or Marcy, Dean thought — hissed at Lady Jay and Sari, the latter looking owlish and pinched with worry. Jay pulled a face, but Mirelle was already turning back to peer around the corridor where they waited.
The Shrine of Oak was really the innards of a massive tree, with corridors that seemed to have grown out of the wood itself, even though the timber walls looked as hard as rock. The floor underfoot was dusted with a fine sand, and sprouting at intervals from the walls were what Dean thought were candelabra, but were in fact small branches, trained into fantastically exact curling shapes, holding glowing orbs like fruit.
Damn, Dean thought. Now I wish I could live in a place like this! Instead of that hospital rehabilitation room, he remembered sourly.
“I think they’re moving off,” Mirelle said, referring to the group of green-robed elves that had frozen their descent into the Shrine. With a nod, the foursome picked their way through the tunnels, turning at junctions Mirelle seemed to read – although Dean couldn’t fathom how. At times, the air sweetened with traces of fragrance and incense, and they heard echoing murmurs of voices and bells. It was eerie and ethereal down here, and Dean could never be sure if they were moving closer or further from the sounds.
“That’s the Council.” Mirelle paused, cocking her head at the sound of a muted bell and hushed voices. “That bell signals the end of an Act of Council, before the next.”
“How many bells have we heard already? All I hear is goddamn tinkle-tinkle down here!” Crusher grumbled. Dean had to agree. They must have heard about four so far.
“Five,” Mirelle said, looking worried. “And the sixth is usually the ending.”
“So you’re saying we’ve got one more Act to get to this Scroll Library, and then we had better be gone before the sixth rings?” Jay did not look pleased at all with this information.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Mirelle pointed to where the corridor continued downward, but a large, shadowed opening appeared to one side. “But luckily enough, that’s the place we’ve been looking for.”
The Scroll Library was unlike any other library Dean had ever been in, he saw as they paused before the circular chamber opening. As with every other part of this tree, it was made of the stuff of the plant itself: with shelves growing like hedges from the floors, stretching all the way to the dark ceilings above. These shelf-hedges formed curving, knotted organic passageways with openings in their trunks and between their branches that held clay tubes – each stuffed with paper. More of the same strange light-gourds sprouted from the shelves, and Dean froze as he heard the quiet shuffle of robes and sandaled feet.
“There are others here!” Dean whispered in alarm.
“Of course, it’s a library, stupid.” Mirelle shook her head, walking in proudly, signaling the others to remain behind her. “It’s okay, just stay behind me. It’s not that humans aren’t allowed – they’re just … unwelcome.”
“How about dwarves?” Crusher mumbled, earning only a grimace from the elf ahead.
The non-elves watched as Mirelle moved to the first shelf, raising a hand to caress the first gourd. “What is it you want to ask?” she murmured, her eyes half-closed.
“The Lady of Efen,” Winters heard himself say.
“How do we kill her,” Crusher added.
“What her powers are,” Sari said.
“Okay, that’s a lot of questions…” Mirelle concentrated, and the light-gourd pulsed a stronger light for a moment. Dean watched as, nearby, another light-gourd pulsed, and one beyond that. “These will light the way to the section we need.”
Brrring! The silvery note of a chime rang through the halls behind them.
“The Fifth Act. Only one more left…” Winters looked in alarm.
“Then we’d better get a move on.” Mirelle led the way, following the pulsing light of the strange lamps into the living archives.
*
Elvish Legends… Elvish Saints… Elvish Spirits… Dean read the headings grown into the whorls of wood on the ‘shelves.’ They were certainly delving into prehistory here.
“You! What are you doing here?” A voice broke their search as Mirelle looked up to see a thin old elf with platinum-white hair and long green robes standing in the way. “Well, answer me, girl!” the man snapped. His eyes were a startling green, and in one hand he had a stack of scrolls.
“We are here at the behest of the Council,” Mirelle said smoothly, arching one eyebrow. “I am to return to Her with information as soon as we have received it….”
“For the Queen, you say?” The old elf stepped forward, peering at Mirelle steadily for a moment with a frown.
“Why else would I have this band of outsiders here?” Dean watched Mirelle laugh. “They wouldn’t even get past the Shrine’s guards without the Queen’s approval!”
“Hmm…” The man looked at each of her companions in turn, his frown turning into a scowl at the sight of the humans, and then into a look of alarm at the sight of Crusher. “But, really… A dwarf? In the archives?”
“Believe me, not my wishes – the Queen’s.” Mirelle rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Well… I suppose no one else could allow it…” The elf shook his head. “Fine. Well, I will be making a complaint to the Shrine Guard, right this minute!”
“As you wish, sir.” Mirelle bowed her head, and the older elf snorted in disgust, bustling past them. As soon as he had turned a few corners and the sounds of his feet had disappeared, Crusher let out a hiss of anger.
“Really. The rudeness of the man!”
“Elf,” Mirelle corrected him, already running a hand along the shelves. “Aha! I think we have it!”
The Saga of Efen
“Already read it,” Winters and Crusher said at the same time, but stepped aside as the Lady Jay, Sari, and Mirelle opened up their own data screens with the game information. “There must be something else in here…”
The Binding of Efen
Ouroborax: Efen’s Curse
“Great. Which one do you want first?” Crusher looked at the two scrolls uneasily, as if he didn’t want to know what they contained.
“The Ouroborax,” Winters said, without hesitation, leaving his friend to read up on the Binding. Just as before, as soon as Dean had slid the brittle parchment from its clay tube, a data screen slid out across his vision, and added itself to his personal character files.
Only, this file was not like the others, Winters saw as soon as he started reading it. In fact – it looked like the file itself had been hacked, as different typefaces warred with the flowing ‘ye-olde’ script, and multiple passages had strike-through lines, replaced with different annotations.
“What the…?”
Ouroborax: Efen’s Curse
Being an account written by Acolyte Ninival, who was there at the Fall of Efen.
This is a hard tale to write, but write it I must – for these are things that have to be known for the sake of the entire world. I was one of the foolish ones who believed what the Lady of Efen told us.
She was a perfect priestess, devoted to the wilds and to the gods of our people, and so fair that none of us thought that any lies could fall from her lips.
But now we know better.
It was that crystal, I have come to be sure of it. It did something to her, it twisted her soul and turned her into something the world had never seen before. [Control-Modded Character???]
It started almost as soon as she was chosen to be the High Priestess, as she was the only one strong enough and with the clear vision needed to counter the human invasion. She started pushing to become Queen, convincing all of us acolytes and her Councilors this was a necessary step. [But this changes the ENTIRE game trajectory!! Control Mod.]
Soon, we started winning in our battles against the humans and the dwarves. There were none that could stand in our way. It was around that time she started wearing it. The silver crown with the green gem we now know as Efen’s Curse, or the Green Ouroborax.
When I asked Brother Silivus about its strange powers – seeming to make our Queen unapproachable in battle – he confessed to not knowing exactly, but that the Lady had gone on a three-day retreat after her coronation, in order to commune with the divine will of the gods. [Must mean Control] When she had returned, it was with the crown, claiming it was a gift from the gods.
Our Queen changed quickly after that. She could compel people to talk, she could order them like puppets if she wanted to [Character-Override Protocols] and then there were her new powers in battle. She could command all living plants to her aid; creating tree-ogres in seconds to march in her armies, or poisonous vines that would entrap the legs of her foes. We were unstoppable, Aldaron was ours…
Until it happened.
The Darklings came, creatures of darkness and scales and fangs and teeth that could explode through our forces, uncaring if we were human, elf, or dwarf. The Queen claimed there was only one chance: to permanently rupture the realm of Aldaron into three: the Near, the Outer, and the Far, and binding the Darklings to the Far Realm. Even this, we agreed to – we were desperate, and the world was almost overrun with whatever those strange things were…
Tales of the Gemsmith Page 19
