Vainglory 3.22 - Fantasy or Prophecy

Here we go, folks! I hope you enjoy the chapter. Sorry again for missing one this week!

-Plum

22 – Fantasy or Prophecy

“I was mostly joking, Trent,” Ward said, watching the other man sit down with his back to the fountain, a cup of the supposedly magical water in one hand. “You don’t have to go first.”

“No, I don’t mind. I spoke up first, and someone has to do it.” He looked from Ward to Lali and Haley. “You’ll watch over me if I lose consciousness?”

“Yes, of course,” Haley replied for the rest of them.

“Well, bottoms up, then.” Trent held the cup high, then drained it in two big gulps. Everyone watched, Haley breathless and Lali clutching her fists so her heavy gloves creaked. Ward wasn’t too worried about the man, considering the vision his spell had shown them; the elf who’d drunk the water hadn’t seemed any worse for the wear, other than a little freaked out by what he’d seen.

They stared at him for several seconds, and he stared back. Everyone was so still that, for a minute, Ward thought maybe Trent was having a vision, but after a minute or so, the man shifted, clearing his throat. “I don’t think anything’s happening to me. It tasted like normal water…”

“Maybe it’s lost its potency,” Haley proposed.

Lali nodded with a grunt. “Or maybe the ancients designed the fountains so they don’t always have the same enchantments.”

“Or maybe it doesn’t affect everyone the same,” Trent said, shrugging as he held a hand out to Ward, who hoisted him to his feet.

“I still want to try,” Haley said, holding out a hand for Trent’s cup. He handed it to her, and she dipped it into the fountain. She started to lift it to her lips, but Ward stopped her, reaching out a hand.

“Sit down first. If you do have a vision, I don’t want you to fall and split your skull.”

She sighed and gracefully lowered herself to the blood-smeared flagstones. Without any hesitation, she drank the water, sighing with satisfaction. “I was thirsty. The water has a certain mineral tang. It’s really very nice—” She stopped speaking suddenly, her mouth partially open. Her eyes unfocused, and she became very still.

“Is she teasing us?” Lali asked, leaning over to gently prod a thick finger against Haley’s cheek. Ward grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand back.

“I think this is real. Look at her eyes.” They watched her, waiting. Ward began to worry after a couple of minutes and asked, “How long do you think that guy in the vision was out of it?”

“About this long, I’d say,” Trent replied, frowning.

Ward wondered if he was upset that the water hadn’t affected him. He squatted before Haley, reaching toward her face, intent on tilting her head to look into her eyes more easily, but then she coughed and shuddered, blinking rapidly. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her. “You okay?”

“I…” Haley licked her lips, looking around at the three of them with wide eyes. Her pale irises gave her spooked expression extra depth. “I saw a battle. I think it was in Ordo Caelus. Demons ran in the streets, and Master Rose was there…” She shook her head. “It was dark, though, and smoke filled the air, so I’m not sure. It feels almost like a dream—foggy and unclear.”

“Was it something happening now? Was it a vision of the future? The past?” Trent leaned close as he grilled her.

Haley blinked, gathering her thoughts, then shrugged. “I wish I knew. I’m sorry.”

“Hush.” Ward took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You don’t have anything to feel sorry about. Demons, huh? Like the ones we fought in Westview?”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Well, let’s hope it’s a warning and not a prophecy.” He took the cup out of her hand and scooped up some water. “Let’s see if I get a vision, too.” With a grunt, he lowered himself to the flagstones and leaned against the fountain. “If I’m out longer than Haley, don’t let Lali start sticking knives in me to see if I’m faking.”

The big fighter in her blood-smeared armor grinned broadly. “Hah! How’d you know I was planning that?”

Ward chuckled, raised the cup to her, then threw it back in one big gulp. It tasted refreshing and, as Haley said, faintly of minerals—he hoped that wasn’t from rat-man piss or something similarly awful.

“Anything?” Trent asked after a few seconds.

“Nothing yet.” Ward took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then felt a dizzying, sinking sensation. When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t sitting in the courtyard any longer. He wasn’t somewhere else, either; he was floating above the fountain, looking down at himself and his companions. He saw Haley kneel beside him, jostling his shoulder, but he felt nothing. Suddenly, he began to drift over their heads, past the vine-covered wall, and toward the depths of the maze-like garden.

He saw dark-furred creatures below, scurrying about their business. He saw a huge, scaled monster that, to his Earth-born mind, looked like nothing less than a gigantic crocodile. He saw vines and plants that moved, winding about an enormous mammalian creature resembling an overweight mountain lion—more a cross between a big cat and a bear. It thrashed and yowled as the constriction forced its insides to the outside. And then, as he picked up speed, Ward looked up to see he was approaching a great tree.

The tree’s bows soared over the garden walls, decked in blood-red leaves that stood out starkly from its pale gray bark. Vines hung from those branches, swaying in the wind, heavy with the weight of the weird eggplant-shaped white fruit that hung from them. Ward stared at the tree and began to feel something in his gut, a familiar discomfort that brought to mind the artifact he’d taken from Nevkin and carried, locked in its lead box, all the way to Westview—the artifact currently in the hands of the Assembly.

He wasn’t sure why the tree gave him that feeling until he drifted closer, and the weird flying trip he was experiencing brought him down to eye level with the trunk. Sure enough, a glimmer of gold flashed at him from a dark knothole, and Ward knew it was another artifact—one identical or similar to the other.

As soon as he had that realization, the world spun in a vortex of dark, crimson-streaked shadows, and he felt himself descending, gliding downward through the earth. He wasn’t sure he was underground, but it felt like he was. He slid down smooth tunnels lined in shadow, and when his movement halted suddenly, he found himself in a great chamber crafted of white marble streaked with mottled, crimson patterns.

A grand staircase entered the chamber on one high wall, and the vaulted ceiling was hung with metallic globes that poured strange, wispy steam into the air while they shed dim, red-hued light. Shadows danced on the walls, bringing Ward’s attention to the center of the chamber where thirteen dark-robed individuals knelt in supplication to a gigantic marble statue carved in the likeness of a bipedal toad. To Ward’s horror, the artifact he’d fought so hard to secure was hung from a chain around the toad’s thick neck, glinting with golden light.

No sooner had Ward made the realization than the world spun, a tremendous wave of vertigo struck him, and he blinked—once more safe and secure in his own body. The suddenness of it all made his stomach flip, and he felt a wave of nausea overwhelm him. He turned to the side and gagged, thankful that only water emerged to splash on the filthy flagstones.

“Oi, watch the boots, big feller,” Lali said with a chuckle as she backpedaled.

“Are you poisoned?” Trent asked, his voice a bit more concerned.

“I’m fine,” Ward replied, clearing his throat and waving a hand to dismiss their concerns. “Give me some wine or something, will you?” Haley was quick to comply, pressing a soft leather wineskin into his hand. Ward took two gulps and then swished some wine around his mouth before passing the skin back to her. “Thanks.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“I had a vision.” Ward abruptly stood, turning in a slow circle until he was confident of the direction he’d floated in the strange out-of-body experience. “Anyone have a compass?”

“Aye,” Lali grunted. “Fitz put one in this here pack.” She unslung her largest pack and began digging through the pockets.

“Why a compass, Ward?” Trent asked.

“Because I saw something we need to find, and it’s that way.” Ward pointed toward a corner of the body-strewn courtyard.

“What was it?” Haley asked, and Ward realized he was being mysterious and wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“Well, I saw a giant tree, and in a knot of its trunk, there’s an artifact we need to recover. I’m not sure why, but it’s a feeling I have in my gut.” He planned to tell Haley all of the details, but he wasn’t yet sure he wanted to fill Trent and Lali in on the potential troubles with the assembly, especially since he didn’t know if his vision of the cult worshipping the artifact was merely a possibility, something that happened in the past, or something that was going on right now.

“Fair enough.” Trent shrugged. “Not like we have any other plan of attack in this place other than wandering aimlessly and hoping we get lucky.”

“Here!” Lali said, holding up a brass-encased compass. When she lifted the cover off, it revealed a crystal glass and a red-painted needle wobbling at the center. Ward watched while she faced the corner and, according to the “North” where the needle pointed, the tree was due west of their location.

He nodded, clapping Lali on the shoulder. “So, as long as we keep moving west, we ought to find that tree. It was massive.”

Trent unslung his pack. “We ought to prepare our spells before we move, Ward.”

“I’ll do my Gopah,” Haley added.

“And I guess I’ll keep watch.” Lali unhooked her crossbow from a leather strap that hung from her baldric, and, with one foot in the brace, she pulled back the string and loaded a bolt.

Ward nodded, pointing toward a pathway near the corner, closest to due west. “Let’s go out on that pathway so we’re not trying to meditate amid all this damn stink.” No one argued, so they made their way through the bloody, stinking massacre site and onto another high-walled pathway. Flowering, delicate vines masked the gray stone walls, and they emitted a rather pleasant aroma. It wasn’t too heavy and had an almost citrus tang to it.

“Smells good,” Lali observed.

“Yeah, well, keep your head on a swivel. If one of us nods off all of a sudden, maybe we should move.” Ward chuckled to himself, not really believing the idea was much of a possibility, but Haley took him seriously.

“Do you think the flowers will poison us?” she asked, eyes wide.

“These are just rogue lilacs,” Trent said. “Nothing to fear here, friends. They’re native to Duskmoor.” With that, he sat cross-legged on the pathway and opened his spellbook on his knees.

Ward moved past him a few steps and then unslung his pack and satchel. He sat on the dusty gray flagstones, noting that the grass growing between them wasn’t very long. Whatever creatures lived in the garden moved about enough to keep the pathways from becoming overgrown. He dug out his grimoire and turned to Mana Bolt. He could still cast it a couple of times from his earlier preparation, but he wanted to solidify it further and regain his third casting.

As he closed his eyes and tried to center himself to begin the meditative forms, his mind kept returning to the strange visions the fountain water had given him. What was the point of it all? Was there some greater consciousness guiding him along? Was he really supposed to go to the big tree at the center of the ruins, or had the water just shown him what he would do? Would he have found his way there if he hadn’t ever tasted the water?

Then there was the cult he’d seen. The construction of the subterranean chamber had certainly resembled that of the Assembly Hall. Had the water shown him a glimpse of Veylan, Reembak, and their compatriots, already deep into their strange worship of the demon in the artifact? Was he reading too much into it? Was it just a fantasy spun out of his fears and past experiences? On that note, why did he and Haley have visions and not Trent Roy?

Ward couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with his latent “dreadmarked” bloodline. His vision had certainly inspired some dread. Why Haley, though? Was it her corruption, her connection to the realm beyond the veil? Ward chuckled, realizing he was making more things up than looking at objective facts. For all he knew, whether or not the water worked was random, and Trent had simply been unlucky.

“Something funny?” Lali asked, and Ward looked over his shoulder to see her standing ready with her crossbow. Haley was back near Trent, deeply engrossed in her Gopah movements.

“Nah, just having a hard time concentrating.”

“Is it hard—preparing magic?”

Ward pointed at Trent, who was contorting his body into a new position while he hummed the strange mantra of his words of power. “It’s a hell of a lot more complicated than you might think.”

“Strange is what it is.” She chuckled, shaking her head, then lifted her chainmail shirt to access a pouch tied to the belt she wore around her pants. A moment later, she plucked a wad of dark powder out of it, stuffing it between her cheek and gums. “Heatleaf?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Heatleaf?” Ward asked. He’d thought the stuff was just tobacco.

“Aye, warms ya up and keeps ya alert.”

Ward thought that sounded a bit like nicotine. “It’s not tobacco?”

“Oh, I’ve heard that name. Some strains of heatleaf grow on other worlds in the system, and folks call it that, I think. This is stronger, though.” She grinned, spitting a squirt of black saliva onto the flagstones.

Ward shook his head. “Thanks anyway.” He held up his spellbook. “I better try to focus.”

“Fair ’nuff.” She turned, crossbow held loosely at her shoulder, but aiming downward as she scanned the garden walls, the hedges and vines all around them.

Ward looked at his grimoire and buckled down, forcing himself to focus. Ten minutes later, he’d fully refreshed his Mana Bolt and was contemplating doing the same for Reveal Secrets, but he had two uses left, and he could tell Trent was finishing up. He decided to put it off until he cast it again. As he stood, brushing the dust from his pants, the others came close, looking to him for leadership. He nodded down the path. “Ready?”

Everyone affirmed their readiness, and the party began moving again. Trent took the lead, and Ward urged Haley to move with him; he wanted her to learn what sorts of things Trent was looking for with regard to traps and ambushes. She was eager to agree, and so they moved out with Ward in the middle and Lali bringing up the rear.

When they came to a T-shaped junction, they picked the path that led more westerly than the other, but after only fifty strides or so, Trent held up his hand for everyone to stop. “What is it?” Ward called.

He could see Trent was squatting, staring intently at the ground. Haley leaned close, over his shoulder, and it was she who answered, yelling, “Trent thinks it’s a trap!”

“Can we come closer?” Lali called.

“Yes, but don’t pass Trent!”

Ward and Lali hurried forward, and Ward studied the ground where Trent stared, trying to see what had alerted the man. He saw it right away: a thin, uneven crack that ran from one flagstone to another, all the way across the pathway. “Do you think the floor will fall away?” he asked.

“Perhaps.” Trent stood, then motioned for everyone to back away. “It could be just a natural fissure—maybe the ground shook here. We’ll test it, but everyone should back up a bit.”

When they were safely—they assumed—ten feet from the crack, Trent pulled out his sword breaker and began to pry up one of the flagstones. “Ward or Lali, could one of you throw this past the crack?”

“I got it,” Ward said. “Keep your bow ready.”

“Aye,” Lali agreed.

Ward picked up the flagstone. It was about eight inches by twelve and an easy two inches thick—good and heavy. With a grunt, he tossed it like a shotput, sending it in an arc to crash down on the cobbles just beyond the tiny fissure. To his and everyone else’s shock, the ground erupted, and an enormous hairy spider leaped onto the path before them.

“Oi, fuck!” Lali howled, and her crossbow twanged as she reflexively fired her bolt at the pony-sized spider’s face.

Ward didn’t blame her. He whipped his sword out of the scabbard. The spider chittered so loudly that it sounded like a scream and reared up on its hindmost legs, and Ward decided he would rather not get into melee combat range. He held out his free hand and shouted, “Vrakkun khorvek!”

Trent’s voice echoed his own as he cast the same spell, stumbling back as he did so. Haley caught him from tripping, and the two mana bolts howled through the air, flickering with ghostly fire-like flickers. Both slammed into the spider’s upraised front section—Ward didn’t know the right word—just beneath its clicking, hissing mouthparts. To Ward’s great relief, the spells did their job, sinking through the black, hairy carapace but then exploding from the creature’s many eyes in jets of white, wispy flames that faded into nothing without a hint of smoke.

The spider collapsed with a ground-shaking thud, and Ward felt a wave of relief wash over him as the garden fell still again. “That was a nasty trap.”

“A terrible trap,” Trent agreed. “That’s an assassin spider, and its venom is incredibly lethal.” He turned to Ward, adding, “We should harvest its poison glands. They’re valuable, but we can also make use of the poison if we’re careful.”

Ward stepped closer to the big corpse. “Do you know how?”

“Roughly. I’ve never done it, but I’ve read texts on the subject.”

“Can I help?” Haley asked, hurrying forward.

Trent smiled at her. “Of course.”

“I’ll, uh, move past the thing and watch for any trouble coming our way,” Lali said, grunting as she reloaded her crossbow. Ward watched her clamber over the upturned flagstones and dirt until she stood on even ground again.

He took a few steps back, turning to face the way they’d come. “I’ll renew my spell. You can do yours when I’m done, Trent.”

“An excellent plan,” the duelist replied, already distracted as he prodded at the spider’s mouth with a slender dagger.

Ward began to sit, but then Grace appeared before him and grabbed his torn, blood-stained shirt, holding him still. “Stand there,” she whispered, “so the sorcerer won’t see me if he turns this way.”

Ward nodded and opened his mouth, but she reached up to put a finger over his lips.

“Best not to give yourself away. I don’t think the big one will hear you, but she might. She’s looking this way, so make yourself look busy.”

Ward sighed, shrugging his pack off and digging his grimoire out. Meanwhile, Grace kept speaking. “I wish you could trust those two enough to tell them about me. I’m tired of hiding.”

Ward couldn’t resist whispering back. “You came out to tell me that?”

“Shh! No, I wanted to tell you I saw your visions! Are you sure you should find that second artifact? What if it makes things worse? The first one isn’t exactly a blessing!” Ward frowned. She knew damn well he’d have to whisper to answer her question so he stared at her with an arched eyebrow. “Oh, go ahead! Whisper!”

“I just have a feeling, Grace. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m supposed to find it.”

She frowned, looking deep into his eyes. Hers flickered with flames, clearly agitated. After a moment, she leaned even closer, whispering, “I think you should check your hemograph. I think that water did more than show you a vision.”

“What the hell do you mean?” he hissed.

“I don’t know. As you said, I just feel it. I think it woke up your dreadmarked bloodline.”