Mensra let himself get lost in thought again as the shadow of night fell upon him. He was far off to the east of the Court, in the lands of deep forests and primordial trees. Mensra remembered how this land was formed when the Source was still young and in full flux. The land was nothing more than a churning soup of molten rock and while a terrible storm raged across all the Source. In fact it would be more apt to describe the Source as the tempest, for all magic and the most base components of the soul were present in that original chaos. And as the dust settled and the first souls coagulated, the primordial Celestials came into being. Their first forms were barely coherent, merely a collection of numerous individual voices and thoughts held together by loose bonds. The wind would pick up and the bonds would shatter, shattering what little coherency there was.
He felt a shudder run down his spine at the memories of those times. Perhaps he should eat something before he got too lost in thought. He was still getting used to this new requirement, back before the Seal broke there were little requirements to living a healthy life. But now he had to eat food, drink water, and sleep through the night. Otherwise he would find himself with unpleasant aches and pains. He pulled out his skillet and a couple of eggs he had acquired that afternoon, he didn’t want to try cooking with anything older as a terrible twist in fate ordained that food from animals now had a tendency to rot away quickly now. As he fell into the rhythmic motion of keeping the eggs from burning or sticking to the pan he dwelt more on the memories he held.
He was in fact one of the rare few who did. Most of the primordials’ memories of this time were muddled in confusion at best. Mensra believed that his young soul must have been lodged in a secluded space where it had time to fully form. Eventually the storm subsided and the land became a solid mass, shortly afterwards the primordials created their own bodies and awoke for the first time. They did not waste any time afterwards and set to work building up their surrounding world. Planting the forests, tending to their residents, and carving the roads that linked the different regions of the Source. For Mensra, that involved a lot of wandering through these regions, watching these very trees take root and eventually breach the clouds. He had also grown since those ancient times, not to the same impressive levels as the forest, but the both of them eventually reached the apex of their height before stopping. Day in, day out, there was no change in height.
“Hm…” He had a moment of realization, that he hadn’t done anything to season his meal. He shuffled through his pack for a moment before pulling out a small pouch, he pulled out just a pinch of seasoning and sprinkled it over his meal before wondering what it would taste like this time. That pouch never produced the same taste twice since he had it enchanted a few days ago, though it had yet to fail in its flavorful duties. He chuckled to himself at its brilliance. Where was he going with this?
Ah yes, the trees. By all his accounts, the trees should have grown far and beyond the sky, ever and upwards. But they hadn’t, when did they stop growing? Was it a few centuries ago or just last week? Mensra thought about it a little more, was there even a difference for beings like the forest? The answers would not be found in the Court, that was the only certainty. Especially with Palador running around putting out nonexistent fires, him and his band of self proclaimed Eterna. Mensra giggled a bit to himself as his meal finished cooking. He moved the eggs to a wooden plate and bit into them.
Simple this time around. The right hint of salt and pepper, neither overwhelming yet still present. When will wonders cease? He thought to himself as he ate. While these eggs were well enough, he wanted to perhaps try something different. Maybe he would make a different bag that favored more daring choices from across the Source?
His mind returned to him along with the sound of approaching foot prints, he quickly got to his feet and drew upon the untouched magic of this region. As light manifested in his hands he concentrated on his fire and pulled the flames into his grasp. Then, he flared it upwards sending sparks into the sky while illuminating his surroundings. If it were a monster that stalks these lands it would hopefully be scared off, otherwise, at least it would see his opponent.
The light revealed a woman with dark long hair who had an arrow drawn and aimed at Mensra’s head. For a moment there was only the sounds of the fire crackling in the wind. Mensra looked around him to see if this was supposed to be a distraction before he turned back to his guest. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot…” He eased his grasp on the fire and returned it to its proper place as a campfire. “Could you perhaps lower your bow?”
She did. “I’m sorry. I thought you were one of Palador’s goons.”
“Hm.” Mensra nodded before sitting back down. “Are they common in these woods then?”
“Very.” She walked into the light, Mensra saw that there was a shimmer about her, subtle sparks of light that danced across her skin. The same birthmark that could be seen on Mensra and all other primordials. “Do you mind if I take a seat?”
Mensra had already begun to finish his meal. He looked up with a mouthful of eggs before giving a slight nod.
She threw her belongings down before warming her hands. “There was a large group of soldiers about a day to the west, they’re making their way slowly and methodically in this direction.” Mensra’s attention was piqued by this information. He hadn’t realized how fast they had advanced. She continued to speak, “They aren’t delayed by the forest, or at least they haven’t yet. It’s as if they’re looking for something before they advance.”
Mensra frowned. “Who are you to know all this? And more importantly, why are you telling me?”
“My name is Atark.” She replied. “I’ve been keeping track of Palador’s army since they crossed into this region. As for speaking with you…” She waved her hand towards the fire. “You didn’t scorch me and half the woods when I snuck up on you, but more importantly, you’re also primordial.”
That was new, the Court was filled with primordials, some had even pledged to the Eterna if he remembered correctly. He went back over what he knew. Wait, did I even remember correctly? “What are you doing out here Atark?”
Atark chuckled. “Well I thought you would at least tell me your name since you now have the advantage. Unless, of course, I was wrong to trust you.”
“Hm.” He scrapped the remains of his meal off his plate into the fire. “Mensra.” He paused for a second and met Atark’s eyes for the first time. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You as well Mensra.” Her stance relaxed, and her smile turned earnest. It was a subtle change, something that only people like Mensra could pick out. “As for myself, I’m out here for a few reasons actually, first I heard an army was moving through here and I had to see it, second I want to find whatever they want because I doubt it would be good if they had it. Third, and finally, I’m looking for my sister, have been since I awakened.”
Mensra quickly realized how far back that could have gone, before this forest existed that’s for sure. “Sister?” He asked.
“Aye, she looks exactly like me except,” Atark tapped the lid of her left eye, “her eyes are green where mine are brown. I don’t remember much from before the awakening, no one does, but I remember her as if she was a part of me. Before our souls were separated in the storm.”
Mensra had already begun flipping through the many faces he knew. There were many like Atark, but none that matched her exactly. “And you’ve been searching for her since you awoke and you’ve had no luck?”
“Aye again Mensra.” She said. “I scoured every part of the Source until the sites began to repeat and I realized I had walked around the whole thing. I hope she’s fine, you know. But then I saw a great flash of light from the Court and something tensed up within me, like…” She trailed off. “Like a twig under pressure snapping in half. Then that army mobilized itself and started looking for something here and I just had to find out.”
“Someone.” Mensra corrected. “They’re looking for a younger fella named Morven. Him and Palador did something to break Buldren’s seal, at least, that’s what Palador confessed.” Mensra went over the thoughts in his mind one last time before finally giving them a voice. “But you see, I don’t know if that was a bad thing.”
“Explain?” Atark leaned in, her eyes alight with curiosity.
The words that Mensra had spent weeks building up for a moment like this suddenly fell away from him. But with a bit of effort he began to put them together again. “It’s like what you mentioned, that night there was a tension within me as the sky was set ablaze. But after it eased up, I felt overcome with unease.” He thought a bit more while Atark waited for him patiently. “I had this realization that this tension had been present since I awoke, but then I couldn’t remember how long ago that really was.” As Mensra looked at Atark, he could see his own unease reflected in her. He continued. “There is something very wrong with all of us. I’m looking for Morven because he must know what’s going on.”
“Why not Palador?” Atark asked. “If he was there too, then he’d know.”
Mensra shook his head. “He’s been consumed with paranoia since he confessed to Buldren. He only lets his closest advisors near him. So I stole a few leads from a bureaucrat while he was distracted by an outlander and I traced their search out to here.”
“Well then my primordial friend, it seems that creeping up on your camp was a stroke of genius on my part.” She grabbed a bed roll from her belongings and rolled it out. “It seems like the two of us are heading in the same direction, we’d stand a better chance of finding our fellow if we stick together. After all-”
A thumping noise entered the back of Mensra’s skull, a tell tale sign of magic nearby. He interrupted Atark with a hush and used his own power to stifle his fire before ducking low to the forest undergrowth.
“There’s something out there.” He whispered. “Whatever it is, it’s channeling magic.”
Atark quickly prepared an arrow for her bow while keeping low as well. “Do you know where it is?” She occasionally poked her head up to look through the woods only to find nothing more than pitch black darkness only interrupted by the shimmer around Mensra.
“They’re coming from the west, continually using magic to search for something.” Mensra focused on the specifics of it. It was a regular pulse that spread across the forest, as he focused he noticed that there was an irregularity in the time between each pulse. A short pause then a long pause, which must mean there were two of them. As each pulse flowed by every other second he felt a chill run past him like a cool breeze. He thought about channeling more magic to counteract it, but he then traced the second pulse from Atark. “Stop casting,” he said.
“I’m not using any magic.” She replied as she peaked over the shrubs. “Where are they?”
He waited for the next wave, it flowed over the two of them and disturbed the ambient magic that coats everything in the Source. As magic was whipped into the air, it quickly congealed and gathered like it always does. Some of that loosened magic flowed into them, which created a ripple as the rest of the field attempted to balance itself out. Once again, the wave passed over them and a moment later a second wave emitted from Atark. While he couldn’t see it, he knew that it would ripple out into the night for anyone else to feel it, and if they were also keeping track of magic, as they most certainly would be, that could only mean one thing. They’re tracking us! He thought.
“We can’t stay here.” He threw his pack over his shoulder and checked to see if there were any sparks left from his fire. Still a few left, but it would have to do.
Atark started backing away into the dark of the woods. “I agree, but we don’t know what’s out there. Do you have a plan?”
“I’ll think of something.” Mensra felt the waves increase in frequency, they were coming closer. “How good are you with that bow?”
“I can pin whatever you need.”
“If you see a clear shot, take it.” Mensra kept going over his options in his head. He wanted to avoid anything that would bring attention to them. If this pursuer found evidence of them they’d quickly report it to the rest of the army.
“Wait, here!” Atark broke off and ran towards a clearing where three rounded hills rose to half the height of the old trees.
Mensra skidded to a halt and took off after her. He hadn’t thought of any better course of action, he just hoped she actually had a plan. As he came closer he noticed that several black and purple flowers grew across the hill, though they were all closed for the night. There was a spark of familiarity to this place, though he couldn’t lay his finger upon it. Atark ran to the base of one hill and waved him over. The pulses felt more like a continuous tap on the back of his head once he made his way to them. In the center of these hills was a spiral staircase made of stone that lead deep underground. Atark motioned for him to run down with her.
“What is this?” He asked.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “No time to explain. Get down there and be quiet.”
The staircase led into a square room with three pillars at the center of the other three walls. The room itself was made entirely out of a smooth black stone with several symbols etched into the rock and highlighted in a white stone. A large steel door could be closed and locked from the inside. Mensra’s fears would have pushed him out of that room had the alternative been something other than a pursuer chasing him in the pitch black night. Atark came into the room just after him and as she was closing the door to the staircase two sounds pierced the silence in the night.
The first was the shout of a desperate man. “Someone please help me!” The second sound was a loud and mighty roar that seemed to shake their cramped shelter. Atark looked back at Mensra who was now unsure of the proper action. Atark threw the door back open and stormed outside. Mensra quickly followed, no longer taking any steps to conceal his use of magic, he collected all that he could in his hands and small fires ignited within them. The tapping returned in full force as he returned to the surface, now as strong as a drum directly behind him.
Atark looked into the night and shouted back. “We’re here to help! Come to us!” She prepared an arrow for the worst.
A man burst through the treeline and bolted for the pair. He carried no weapons but his hands flailed towards the sky. “The trees! The trees! It’s in the trees!”
Mensra looked into the woods and saw a bright light moving through the treetops, its form obscured by the leaves. Whatever it was, it moved quickly in and around the obstacles in its path. Then, a massive creature burst through the treetops and formed a large coil in the sky. It had no arms nor legs, and without wings it had to have used magic to keep itself in the air, the glow that spread across it like thin veins gave off enough light to illuminate the clearing. It was also enough light for Mensra to make out its features. The creature had reptilian scales all across it, with a triangular head and two eyes that the golden veins flowed into. It was as long as the trees were tall and as it looked down at them it made an aggressive clicking sound as the golden substance began to concentrate towards its mouth. It then arched downwards and opened its jaw. With a mighty hiss it let loose a hail of golden rain.
Not missing a beat, Mensra stood next to Atark and let his flame ignite to its full extent. The bright hail was burned away. Mensra watched as the substance created small fires in the grass all around them. The other man tried his best to dodge the rain, but his leg was glanced by a fire. As the serpent ceased its attack Atark took quick aim and let one of her arrows fly. It caught the creature in the roof of its mouth, which staggered it.
“Get over here!” She shouted. As the man made it to them, Mensra grabbed him and guided him back down into the staircase.
“Atark!” Mensra yelled back up to her.
She weighed her chances of fighting this thing and realized it would more than likely be a waste of effort. Atark jumped down the stairs and into the dark room before Mensra slammed the door shut. It continued to hiss as it searched for another way into the dark room. Occasionally it rammed its head into the ground to force a collapse. This accomplished nothing more than shaking the underground.
“What is that thing?” Mensra asked as he willed another fire into existence for light.
“I don’t know.” The man said as he gasped for breath. “I just wanted to leave the Eterna!”
“Who are you?” Atark kept her bow pointed at the door. Just in case.
“My name is Devanir.” He finally caught his breath. “I’m fleeing the Court, just like you two I imagine.”
Atark and Mensra looked at each other. Before they could say anything more the serpent let out one loud and agonizing cry before the entire room shook once more. Then there was silence.
Atark reached for the door. “I’m going out there. If things go bad, shut the door and don’t worry about me.” She slowly opened the door and peeked her head outside. When she wasn’t immediately killed she opened the door the full way and began to climb the stairs, Mensra directly behind her. “No, Mensra. Stay down here.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize-”
“Nevermind.” Atark looked back up the stairs. “Actually come along both of you, I’d rather fight this as a group.”
The three climbed out back into the dead of night. The serpent was still there, but it lied upon the ground in one large coil with its eyes wide open. Another man stood in front of it, reading from a book while making slow gestures with his free hand. This one was shorter than most and with long hair tied behind his head.
“Return to your dreams and take yourself away from this place. Think not of your troubles and let the unseen river carry you to a hot and gentle land. Lay there in warm light and coarse sand and rest without fear of even larger beasts. May your wounds heal and make you stronger in the battles to come. Let the Source grant you its blessing and sleep well.”
As he finished his prayer he turned to the stunned group and smiled. “You folk sure pick the big beasts to disturb. My name is Morven and I assume you have been looking for me.”
Atark walked past Morven and looked up at the snake in awe. “But how?”
Morven put his hand on the beast and pet it as if it were his pet. “There is much more to magic than setting fires or changing one’s shape. I could show you, unless you wish to turn me into the Court.”
Mensra stepped forward but was beaten by Devanir who knelt down and said, “Please my good lord. I have suffered under the tyrant Buldren for too long. Please give me the strength to fight him and I will pledge my eternal allegiance to you!”
Morven looked to Mensra and then Atark who both had equally expectant looks to them. “I think it would be best if we found somewhere safe to rest. And then I would like to speak with you three about your um… intentions with this whole affair.”
Mensra thought about these three a bit longer. An army approaching from the west facing desertion, a man who can calm a snake with a prayer, and a woman who could aim a strong shot within a second. He wondered what the odds were that any of them could actually cook a meal for themselves before coming to the realization that he’d likely be cooking for the lot of them.
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