The Escape
"She went this way! Past the statues!" A stampede of footsteps rumbled by as Lurina huddled in the tiny alcove between a large statue's legs. Once the noise had gone, she poked her head out, looking side to side down the wide, thick carpeted hall. Her legs buckled as she straightened out, still trembling with anxiety. While she waited for her tremors to subside, she peered up at the statue sheltering her. Ironically enough, it was a massive stone warrior, spear clenched in a tight fist, face lined with hatred. Lurina sighed. After all that the warriors had done to her, this tiny opportunity felt like… far too little, far too late.
She gathered up her gray skirts and hood, and carefully, quietly, crept down the hall. She had never been this far down inside the stronghold. Torches lined the walls, light bouncing across oily paintings of old men in flowing robes she'd never seen. Even down this far, there was the occasional full set of polychromatic armor, making her heart stop each time she saw one from around a corner. So far she had been lucky that these were long-abandoned. Would they call an actual Withstander after her eventually, if she kept going further? Her shoulders shook at the thought.
Her shoes clattered on stone now, the carpet having run out some time ago. The hallways were more cramped, the lights less frequent, and tiny rooms intersected the main hall now and then, crates packed to the ceiling above lining the walls and filling spaces between round stone columns. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust. No one had come down here in a long, long time. Lurina's heart pounded. Stopping between the stacks of crates, she lifted the lid of one. Her face twisted in disgust, and she dropped the planks with a snap.
She cursed herself, silently. Too loud. She hurried from the room, back into the hall. She had no idea which doors might bring her freedom, and so she picked at random, creeping around the corner to peek inside. Never did she see living people, though dusty coffins did fill one room and a yellowed skeleton lay against the corner of another.
The hall finally ended in a larger version of those small rooms, with only a few dirty beds encircling a table stained with melted wax. Only a single lantern illuminated the chamber, hanging over an open doorway leading to dark stairs. They twisted downward, out of sight. Lurina reached up and unhooked the lantern, taking care not to spill the liquid light that sloshed inside it. It was the dullest lantern of this kind she'd ever seen, and she hoped the spell wouldn't fail on her descent.
With each step down, the lantern's glow grew less. She ran her fingers along the rough stone walls as she descended. After so many years, her chance had come, and she'd fled from her tormentors with wild desperation. It was a miracle she'd avoided them so many times within the stone fortress, though she hadn't heard anything of them in some time, now that she had plunged so deep into the bowels of this complex. At last, she reached the bottom of the spiral and pulled open the sagging wooden door that appeared before her.
Within lay a room larger than those she had yet encountered, with a massive depression in the center, like a huge bowl. A smooth wall, roughly waist height, encircled it, lined with writing she couldn't make out in the dim light. Her lantern flickered and went out. Her pulse raced. She could just barely make out the walls of the room and began taking careful steps.
"Greetings, child."
The silence was shattered, and Lurina fell back, crashing into the doorframe. The lantern clattered across the floor, cracked and leaking a viscous, gray fluid. She shook, arms covering her forehead. There was nowhere to go but back up. She crawled back towards the stairs, and the voice spoke again.
"I cannot harm you, child. I am still." Lurina froze. "Though why I would want to, I cannot comprehend." The voice, which she now realized was coming from the far end of the room, continued. "What brings one of such old magic so deep within our walls?" Approaching the room's center, she now saw the suit of armor, kneeling before the low wall on the other side of the bowl. Both palms rested on the wall, no, were part of the wall.
His metal body was covered, too, in the writing that flowed across the barrier. And, as the distance between them closed, she saw that color swirled around the elegant script, like a painted breeze. His helmet, frozen looking out over the bowl, spoke more quietly now. "Regardless of why you are here, I must tell you of what remains here. It is my duty, the reason for my stillness." She knelt next to him and looked over the pool. For she now saw, the depression was filled with a liquid so dark, and so still, that from afar it looked empty and dry.
"This is the Eye of Nadir. In times long past, before so many creatures began appearing on these fractured shores, the Eye was already ancient. Our discovery of it led to the construction of this very labyrinth, though it has been so long I doubt many of those above still remember." His voice was hollow, solemn. "The Eye connects world to world. Over countless expeditions, we have concluded that there is no way to return once one steps through, and so I was set here to guard and guide those curious enough to wander so deep. My name is Ravon Trevanant, the Night Watcher, and I am yours to serve, my Lady." His tone was more gentle and kind than any Lurina had yet encountered, here. She nearly smiled. "Though, not much good can I do, stuck in place like this." He laughed, chuckling quietly among the shadows that piled around them. Lurina stood, hood obscuring her face as she stepped onto the low wall. The armor said nothing, though she felt his watchful gaze from beside her.
She stood, balancing on the thin wall. Still, the armor was silent. She wondered for a moment how long it had been since the last time he'd talked to anyone. Perhaps he simply didn't know what to say. And then, gathering her courage, she leaped into the bowl. Her heart pounded in her chest. She fell, and all the light faded until she could see nothing at all. Her last vision was the old, cracked helmet of Ravon, looking sadly down upon her.
Somewhere in Last Light is an island, surrounded by deep and dark clouds so thick that only warships can safely penetrate. On its surface are many garrisons, towers, and fortresses that hold countless warriors, soldiers, and scholars. To many, it is known as Daingneach, the Stronghold Island. To others, it is simply the Walled. From it, many incredible deeds are carried out, and many secrets are kept hidden within. It is a place of justice, of darkness, and most of all, of power.
And many hundreds of miles below it, nestled among outcroppings of bedrock and spires of dense obsidian, is the Miracle City of Glainne. Inverted towers of translucent crystal hang from the underside of the mighty island, many thousands of them coalescing into a chandelier of civilization that clings to the underside of an unknowing enemy. Mighty bridges arch from tower to tower, made of sparkling glass and materials too drenched in spellcraft to decipher. In this city, the old magic runs deeply through every wall and facet. It is a place of wonderment, of healing, and of loneliness, for those who find the City of Glass do not leave it.
But somewhere lost in the labyrinth of glimmering lights and flowing mana, a small figure awakes on a stretch of translucent stone. She looks around in awe, and tries to pull her hood down in excitement, but it catches on something. She freezes, her hand going to her forehead.
For just a moment, her smile outshines the city itself.
The Held
Scents of vanilla and sugar waft through a cramped alleyway. Tiny windowsills nearly touch above, blotting out the warm yellow light from a cloud-wrapped sky. A tall creature reclines on faded marble steps outside shadowed stone doors, framing a cozy cafe. An intermittent stream of tired-eyed early risers trickle into the sweet-smelling nook. Two small children, both wearing light brown hoods, dart up the steps to either side of the creature. The sound of young laughter tickles its ears. The creature opens one large, deep gray eye.
Standing in front of it is another child, wearing a hood in dirty yellow. Bright yellow eyes peer from the shadows of the cowl. Before it can move, the child reaches out. Pulling a tattered, mud-splattered blanket behind, the child races up the alleyway and is gone. The creature blinks slowly. It stretches, revealing long arms that had been hidden beneath the blanket's folds.
The arms are smooth, as is the rest of the gray body. It wore no garments save for a threadbare bolt of cloth around its waist. Thick legs ending in square-toed feet crouch, then straighten out.
Inside the cafe, a scowling golden-haired youth pounds once on the window's wooden frame. The creature's long shadow had fallen across the table inside, obscuring the lines of language carved into it. The tall gray vagabond nods modestly and moves forward. It walks out of the alley amid a gust of red and orange leaves, stirred into whirling patterns by the narrow passage.
The light is brighter here, and the creature squints, peering down a wide concourse of shops and restaurants like the one it had left in the alley. The murmur of conversation grows as it walks down a crowded sidewalk, moving carefully through a bustling crowd. Colorful tarps rustle around its head, concealing piles of myriad wares beneath reams of bright cloth. The haggling of bargain-hunting, the clinks and clangs of capital changing hands, and the strange fragrance of exotic foods and spices filled the air of the Dead-End Market. The creature meanders from stall to stall, peering over the heads of oblivious shoppers to gaze at shining glass and molded clay. It stands head and shoulders above the crowd, looking down at each passerby, yet not a single one meets its carefree gaze.
As it nears the edge of the market, it hears a voice cry out. Clad in dark robes, a slender man shouts in frustration as a trio of small forms bounds through the thinning crowd. He motions furiously with black-inked hands, puffs of dark clouds scattering from his voluminous sleeves. The small ones, dodging under legs and over crates stacked against the wooden market stalls, nearly collide with the large gray golem as it moves to block their mad dash. Just before the trio is trapped, a mud-splattered blanket is thrown into the creature's face, blinding it. The ragged bunch disappear around a busy corner while it slowly unwraps a familiarly dirty cloth from its head.
With a thump, a sudden impact frees the gray tower's face, and it peers down at the dark-robed man. He had collided with the creature in pursuit of the fleeing children. The man, greasy forehead contorted in anger, curses the plodding golem as he stomps off, pushing through the crowd like a dark storm.
The creature smiles. It slings the blanket over its shoulder, steadily working at untying a small knot tied at the edge of the patchwork cloth. It comes to a stop before a stone bench, beyond which a smooth railing divided land from empty sky. The edge of the market and island, and it was here the golem sits, legs hanging out over the void. The blanket's knot comes undone at last, and a brilliant blue stone tumbles out. The creature watches it fall until it vanishes among swirling clouds.
It leans back against the bench and closes its eyes, blanket wrapping it warmly. It dreams of sapphires, of glittering oceans full of shining gemstones. It dreams that its own gray skin is patterned in swirls of blues, light and dark color spun into gradients of intricate rings that almost seem to move. It dreamt of a titan larger by far than itself, strong arms holding it tight under the weight of the world.
What is Given
"Do you remember when we swam here?"
I laughed a little. My footsteps were slow and careful, weaving side to side on the uneven stones of the rocky shoreline. Distantly came the cawing of gulls. A wet wind swirled around us, our thin cloaks billowing out. "The night before we left? Yes, I remember it." I stood, turning my face into the chilling breeze. I screwed my eyes shut. I remember it most nights, lately.
I heard the taps of my companion's worn shoes as they danced around me. When they stopped, I opened one eye. She stood in front of me, silhouetted against blazing yellow clouds that swelled over the horizon. Her hair spilled out over faded yellow hood, rose gold as vibrant as it ever had been. When she suddenly spun around, I was caught smiling. She grinned wide in return and reached out a hand. My face hardened.
I walked forward, past her. She fell into step beside me, still with that brilliant grin. Together we walked into quietly lapping waves of aquamarine. Diffuse golden light sparkled on the surface, obscuring the vibrant corals beneath that spread out for miles. Tiny iridescent fish flitted through the shadows of the reef. I'd given her a scale, I recalled. It shone darkly, like an oil slick, with a rainbow hue hidden inside. She'd accepted it with more ceremony than I'd expected, her eyes wide and face serious.
"Did you keep the scale?" My voice shook, shattering my stoic facade. She reached down into the water and stirred up sediment. I watched the swirls of dust spread.
"I did. It was in my pack." She straightened up, looking straight at me. I glanced away. "It helped me get through some of the worst nights, you know. When we'd made camp somewhere dark, and you were standing watch. I had it with me the whole time." I'd started to walk back towards shore before she'd even finished. My heavy footfalls muddied the water as I stomped back onto dry land, stumbling on the wet stones. She was next to me before I knew it, as if to catch me. I grunted.
Her smile never left, even as I turned towards the gravelly path that led up the shore. Squat stone buildings looked out over a cliff that ringed half the lake. The town we'd grown up in was now a busy port town. They'd changed the name, even. I'd had trouble getting a ship back here when nobody knew where Stoneshore was. I'd made it in the end, though, thanks to an old skytrawler from the next town over. "Crystal Pier, they's changed it to. Poor folks wantin' more rich tourists, I'd guess, eheh." I'd traded him one of the woolen coats I'd brought as thanks. Looked like he needed one, out there shivering on the station docks.
I sat on the edge of the hill. The sea spread out before me. When we were kids we thought it went on forever, but now I knew it just covered most of the island. And compared to most, our island wasn't that big. A saltwater lake was uncommon, sure, but it was nothing compared to the real wonders out there.
When I'd been small, everyone talked about how the end of everything was coming, how the worlds were dying and life was fading. It had seemed insane how nobody wanted to go see what was out there before it was all gone. One night it had all become too much, and I'd packed a bag and walked all the way out to the station. She'd been sitting there on the wall, pack resting beside her like she'd known all along. I chuckled. Maybe I had been obvious.
I felt her back against mine as we watched the churning sky. Somewhere, hidden away in those clouds, were supposedly a people older by far than any of us leftovers. In the ports, stations, and markets of so many islands we'd heard the whispers of the First Ones, the Ancients. Every rumor was different, but all agreed that these mythical progenitors were still here, hiding in the ever-present clouds that enshroud every island.
"We never found out if it was true, did we?" I mumbled, speaking out loud almost by accident. Her answer came after a while, like she'd been mulling it over.
"It's alright. It was enough to try, I think."
I felt my chest growing tight. Doing this was so much worse than I'd expected. All the things I'd asked before seemed inconsequential and nothing came to mind when I dug through my mind for more.
I stiffened when she spoke again.
"You don't have to stop because of me, you know. I'd never seen you happier than when we'd step onto a new island. Keep going, Bernard, there's no r-" Her voice cut off as I pounded the dirt of the hillside, my chest so tight that my breaths were short and shallow.
"No. D-don't say that you didn't matter. You were s-such a huge part of why I was, like that, h-how great it felt to explore places. It, it was y-you, more than…" My voice broke fully. My chest heaved as I sobbed into the quiet morning. Though the light never really changed, the town still kept time with clanging bells from a tall steeple. Six peals of bells complimented my own discordant noise. It wasn't until eight long chimes rang out along the silvery shore that silence returned to the cliff. I drew my sleeve across my wet face and stood on shaking legs.
Soon enough the trawlers would start preparing their narrow boats and weaving tangled nets for the day's work. It would be best to go before I'm recognized.
As wide-brimmed straw hats gathered at the pier, I stepped quickly under the eaves of the rough stone buildings, vanishing into the alleyways of my youth with practiced ease. The babble of small-town gossip drowned out what little noise my footsteps made on smooth cobblestone. Just before it was out of sight I glanced back towards the sea. I thought I could still make her out, standing on the hilltop against swelling clouds. I blinked, my vision blurring. When I cleared my eyes, there was just the hill, green and bare. I sighed and followed painful memories away.
