Author Archives: Alexis

How Old Are the Tears

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In the new timeline, as the group walks from the old warrior burial area — that no longer exists — to the grotto where the Monastery of the Eagles stands in another timeline. The group walks and Alexis thinks out loud, turning the Collegium ring on his finger.

“How old are the Tears, actually?”

A few steps.

“The Crone gave them to humanity to save humanity. But they were already in play at the Great Betrayal, at the end of the Second League.” He turns the Collegium ring once. “Which means there was a time before the Great Betrayal when Avv decided humanity needed saving. The Age of Wyrms? The Great Upheaval? Earlier?”

He frowns slightly.

“Humanity needed saving at the Great Betrayal. That’s clear. But if the Tears predate even that, what were we being saved from before?” He looks at the path ahead. “The Age of Wyrms? The time of the crafting of the Sword Chaotic? The time of the Saggi, the Akkil, and the demon-gods?” He shakes his head. “What was so dire, that all the other times pale in comparison?”

He doesn’t seem to expect an answer.

Charging It To Gus’s Account

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The night the group makes camp on the platform at the top of the eroded hill, while Gustav has the first watch. Alexis pulls his hat off, sets it beside him, and sits down.

“Those blessings you’ve been losing every morning, Gus. It turns out that was me. Or a new skill out of the Inner Watch, which probably amounts to the same thing.” Alexis turns the Collegium ring once around his finger.

“The trouble with the Inner Watch is that most of it has been lost a very long while, and as far as I can find, nobody left a guide.” He gives a small shrug. “So I learn what a working does by doing it.”

“Before you ‘prayed’ at the grove that morning, I’d already invoked the old working and pointed it at keeping us protected for the day. I held the protective side of… your… our god in my head, and the road ahead of us. In hindsight, the warren of Raiden took my intention and your power, put the two together, and stretched our passing from a quarter of a day to half of one. I’m still not certain how it settled on you to pay for it.”

“That first working ran four days. Your grove may have had a hand in that.”

“Before I tap into that part of the weave I wanted to let you know. It was new to me then. It’s turned out well worth having, but maybe you disagree.” He looks over at Gustav. “I’m sorry for being a part of your crisis of faith.”

Alexis waits to see if Gustav has anything to say.

Taking on Raiden’s Mission

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Shortly after the group gets to the island, while Rask is on watch. Alexis comes and sits near Rask, looking out over the water.

“Red had Gus’s shield other when he dove into that water, like we had planned. Good for some things, but probably wouldn’t have saved him from being swallowed.”

“In hindsight, one of us should have been closer. I feel awful that I was helpless while gaseous.”

Alexis nods at the mantle across Rask’s shoulders.

“Raiden calls us to protect those in our care. The mantle is a symbol of that.”

“Carm probably needs to be protected first. Red second.”

“Can I count on you for that?”

Alexis waits for an answer from his companion.

The Lament of the Twice-Blooded King

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Sundered was he in the womb of disdain,
Seed of two hatreds, of iron and rain;
Split was his cradle ’twixt tusk and fair ear,
Child of no hearth-fire, sworn unto fear.

High did he climb by the ladder of slain,
Hewn from the marrow of scholar and thane;
Hallowed the bones that he set for his stair,
Hungering upward through incense and prayer.

Ash fell as snow when the Second Sun broke,
Altars lay silent, and empires lay smoke;
All of the banners were blackened with flame,
All of the chronicles swallowed his name.

Shadow-crowned warlord, unblessed yet adored,
Seeker of godhood by blade and by word;
Silent he stood where the firmament tore,
Swearing the heavens would bar him no more.

Half-dead, half-living, in memory chained,
Held in the rot where old ages are stained;
Hushed is his breathing, yet restless his will,
Hunger unquenched in the hollows of still.

Ever he drinketh of mortal desire,
Envy and pride are the oil of his fire,
Eager are princes who feed him with ore,
Edged in red iron and promise of war.

Red are the sands where his heralds conspire,
Rivers of steel for the dark of his pyre;
Ruin is bartered in markets of flame,
Raised are the armies that march in his name.

** Alexis orates this two mornings after his dream of Raiden

Guided by Raiden

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Alexis dreams he stood upon a vast grassland beneath a gray morning sky.The grass reached nearly to his knees and rolled away in every direction, untouched by road or wall. Far away stood the dark line of a forest. Beyond it rose mountains crowned with snow. There was no temple. No throne. No choir. Only wind.

Then Alexis noticed a man walking toward him through the grass. He was tall and weathered, dressed not as a god but as an old warrior returning from a long campaign. His cloak was patched. His boots were muddy. An ancient sword hung at his side, and across his shoulders he carried a bow. His face seemed softened by humility. His eyes were tired. But kind. Alexis knew him immediately. Raiden.

Raiden stopped beside him and looked toward the mountains. For a long while, the god said nothing. Finally… “Men build walls when they are frightened.”

Raiden picked a blade of grass and rolled it between his fingers. “Then they build higher walls because the first did not make them less afraid.” He looked toward Alexis. “Shasharak built no wall of stone.”

The wind strengthened. The grassland vanished.

Alexis saw an ancient city beneath a burning sky. Armies marched beneath banners he did not recognize. Orcs, goblins, elves, humans, and creatures stranger still fought among shattered towers. Standing above them was a figure Alexis could never see clearly. Tall. Thin. Neither elf nor orc. Both elf and orc. Every time Alexis tried to see his face, smoke crossed the dream.

Raiden spoke beside him. “He believed the world had failed because those entrusted with its protection were too weak to command it.”

The scene changed. Shasharak stood upon a mountain surrounded by bodies. Above him burned lights like stars. The Gods. Shasharak reached toward them. And the heavens recoiled.

Raiden said: “He mistook obedience for unity.”

The vision changed again. Now Alexis saw Shasharak falling. But his shadow did not fall with him. It remained standing. Waiting. The centuries passed around that shadow. Kingdoms rose. Kingdoms disappeared. Forests grew where cities had stood. Still the shadow waited. Then someone approached it. A man carrying the symbol of a black and red hand. Bandesingh. The shadow turned toward him.

Raiden’s voice became grim. “Some enemies need not survive in flesh. Hatred can preserve a man longer than blood.”

Alexis asks “Is Shasharak returning?”

Raiden does not answer. Instead he draws his sword and drives it into the earth. The ground splits. Deep beneath it Alexis sees something crimson glowing in darkness. The Tear of Avv.

Raiden looks directly at him. “The old powers are moving again. Some will tell you that power must be destroyed. Others will tell you that it must be possessed. Beware both.”

Then Raiden steps closer. “You  hold something kings would murder nations to possess. Do not ask whether you are strong enough to wield it.” His expression becomes severe. “Ask whether you are strong enough to surrender it.”

Then the wind rises. Raiden disappears.

But his sword remains buried in the earth. Wrapped around its blade is a single strand of crimson thread.

Alexis awakens.

Time for Focus and Moving Deeper

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The group is spending 2 weeks focusing and regrouping. Alexis spends these two weeks mostly out of camp.

He finds the spot on the first morning. About a hundred yards up a slope from the group campsite there is a cut between two shoulders of rock, narrow enough that a man standing in it fills it, out of the wind and out of sight of anything below. He walks it end to end many times and does not come back down until midday.

He clears the floor of it to bare stone. He cuts a carving into the rock and lays ash into the cut, and chalks Raiden’s sigils around the outside of it, and holds the wooden focus Ethelred made him flat against the ground while he imbues the space with a subtle but pervasive power.

Alexis even finds a granite and quartz surface that he can grind coins against. He and Ethelred often talk about putting in the effort oneself to make a thing stronger. Alexis sweats to grind a couple coins at an awkward angle.

He gathers what will work for incense. Pine resin, a bark that smells of pepper once it dries, some mushrooms. He burns them in the mornings and chants over them a long while, not loudly. The smoke stays in the narrow place, sitting there and growing stronger.

He sits at the closed end of the cut, facing in, and keeps the watch himself. Incense burning and chanting the whole time.

Down at the camp the fortnight is unremarkable. The mornings are mild considering the season. There is a peace at camp.

Any of the rangers, if they walked up to look, find Alexis kneeling on cold rock with his sleeves shoved back, working and/or chanting. It is a great deal of labor in a very small space.

He comes down at midday and again at dinner. He eats more than he usually does and talks less than he usually does and is in his blanket early. Twice in the fortnight somebody lets him sleep through his watch, and in the morning he does not argue about it.

Jet-Black Identification, Part 2

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The camp is barely up. Gustav, Rask, and Ca’armine are out after food. Alexis works the jet-black ring off his finger and sits down across from Ethelred with it in his palm.

“Red. I want to test this one properly.” Alexis clearly wants to do more than they’ve done before.

“You remember the story on it? The crone at the trading post in the Westlands.”

Alexis waits for the answer before he goes on.

“Here’s what I’ve been sitting on. We’ve been calling it the jet-black ring. That’s a color. Nobody has ever put a name to what it’s actually made of.”

“So we start there. If it comes back jet, great. If it comes back something else, that’s the first thing of consequence we’ll have gotten.”

Alexis gives a slight shrug combined with a nod to the side with his head.

“Then light. I try to put Raiden’s light onto it. Then possibly into it.”

“Then the next parts.”

“Whether it hides anything besides itself. We set it next to something we already understand and see if that thing gets harder to read with it sitting there. If it does, a ring that does nothing has just done something.”

“Whether it changes me. It comes off for a full day, and you watch me and not the ring.”

“Whether it does anything for a body in a bad spot, which means putting me in one. Water to stand on. A short drop onto something soft with a rope on me. A wall to try. A candle before anything hotter. Small first, and you pick how small.”

“I realized I never checked it for certain kinds of secrets. I’ll try those next. Mostly of the invisible kind, but also checking to see if it has alignment to the greater powers that isn’t more-easily determined.”

“And I want to see if you can wear it, and what might happen if you do.”

Alexis turns the ring over in his palm.

“Anything I’ve forgotten? Anything else to add? Other effects I might not be thinking about?”

To Be Informed Is To Be Forearmed

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The island on the water level. The others sleep between the two palm trees. Alexis takes the far one.

He told them at the fire what his working was for. The Tear is close and he wants the guidance of the Inner Watch on the tear and the taint. Rask seemed to like the idea.

The carving takes most of the night. He scrapes the sand down to the wet layer and cuts it with the butt of his whip, a section at a time, sitting back to look along the line and then leaning in again.

What it comes out as, for anyone who woke and looked: a wall, drawn as a closed ring around the foot of the tree. Set into the inside of the wall, facing in, a single open eye.

Then he sits back on his heels and lets his eyes go, and for a long while nothing happens at all.

The sand inside the ring starts glowing faintly, evenly. The dim light fades and comes back. Haze comes off the water somewhere in there and settles at knee height around Alexis and his glowing working.

“It answers in the voice you expect,” Alexis mutters to himself.

“The Second Sun was broken and it was called progress as the ruins of what was wrought was stepped on.”

Later.

“The ancients keep it in in rings nobody wears.”

The light under the sand goes almost out, and returns.

“There are shadows around it, it doesn’t throw.”

“The ladder of the gods was climbed with mortal bones and entry was denied, but hubris never ends.”

“It seeks out its others. Its others are itself.”

A long time after that, quieter.

“You will be asked to set it down. Once by a one who wants it. Once by a one who loves you.”

“The one is supported by the two.”

“Find the one who feeds him iron and blood… the one who believes he can control him”

His hands are flat on the sand.

“It remembers.”

The haze is gone by the time he comes back to himself, and the sand has stopped giving light. His knees have locked. Alexis works the feeling into them, then goes around the ring on his hands and knees, putting the sand back in place.

“Well,” he says. “That’s more than I had.”

Not All Loss Is Equal

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Shortly after the group gets to the new camp site after leaving the time-vault in Nodden-Torr. Alexis finds a quiet moment with Ethelred.

“The vault of the Dragon was hard on you, my friend. Your armor, your silks, your spyglass. I know what a loss each of those things was, and I want to do what I can to help you recover what you can. Or work around it.”

“I’m glad I’ve still got you here with us.” Alexis pats Ethelred on the shoulder and walks away.

Which Dark Power Is Trying to Rise?

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A few nights into the camp east of Nodden-Torr, as the group sits down to eat togehther.

“The Made feed on a wound. That is what makes the dead god weep. And the wound gets poisoned. Every day, with blood.”

“Drayek is the god of poison.”

Alexis’ hand grazes against the shield of Raiden that hangs at his neck..

“Drayek’s whose cult put its name to a pact with Shasharak, on that wall out in the Westlands. The terms can’t be read, but it’s clear someone was owed something.”

Alexis pauses, sitting with this. He’s been thinking about these things, but is still thinking.

“As I see it: three ways to read what Bandesingh is doing.”

“One. He raises Ath, and brings darkness on the world by bringing back the god of betrayal.”

“Two. He raises Shasharak and Ath was supposed to be the cost paid. When I gave Vorgoth the name Bandesingh, he answered that Shasharak has found another road. Perhaps this is a coincidence. But we know that Dauntless contained a piece of Ath, and Dauntless was created to battle blood magic. This is leading me to wonder if Ath is actually the god of treachery. Ath being the father of Drayek, feels like it plays into what’s going on, but I’m not sure how.”

“Three. Something else, but my gut says no.”

“Raiden and Avv want us to stop whatever darkness Bandesingh is trying to unleash on us all. We’ll be better prepared if we know what exactly Bandesingh is attempting.”

Alexis looks around the group to see if anyone else has anything to add.