431 LE, Living Grotto
Evoril stepped out of the cave system and into the grotto with a relieved sigh, trailing behind the three excited adventurers with reluctance. When he had agreed to tag along with them, he had expected them to immediately go out to hunt down the one who was gathering together the power of the various Lords, but instead they'd gone off on quests.
Not that he was truly complaining about the places they were visiting, for the most part, though that last city was definitely not a place he wanted to revisit. Just that they were effectively playing tourist while some megalomaniac did everything he could to achieve the power of a true God.
In this case, the location was definitely something he'd have to remember. The grotto was breathtaking - sunlight streamed in from a hole in the roof and reflected off the huge pool of water that made up the center of the grand space. Small trees and vines softened the rock with their bright green foliage, and a few flowers added bright spots of color throughout the place. Further back, away from the skylight and into the shadowed depths of the grotto, moss covered the rock floor and up onto the walls, and even further back, the bare stone shone a soft white at the dancing water-reflections.
But all this beauty was lost upon the three adventurers, Evoril felt. He stood back, arms crossed loosely across his chest as he watched them tromp into the heart of the grotto, heedless of the noise they were making and the sheer disregard they had for such a... holy place.
Not that it was truly 'holy' in a manner they would understand, Evoril mused as he swept his gaze over the living oasis deep underground. No. This grotto was a place of life. Of hope. Living proof that, given sunlight, anything could thrive.
"C'mon, Voril!"
Evoril started, jerked out of his musing by Marith's shout, then glowered down at the three children. "How many times must I insist you cease mangling my name?"
"At least once more!" Marith responded with a grin. "Now c'mon! That sword should be around here somewhere!"
He bit back a snarl, and instead merely pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. A sword. May the goddess have mercy upon him, but he was going to personally escort Marith into the realms of the dead the moment he had a chance.
A splash made his head jerk back up, and he stared in disbelief as Marith lifted up another chunk of rock and hurl it into the pool.
"Hey! Hey you, guardian critter! Come out, come out wherever you are!"
The shout echoed throughout the grotto, loud and persistent. When it faded, silence permeated the grotto, heavy and expectant. Even the breeze had ceased.
Evoril shifted his stance, taking care to do so silently. Now was not the time to draw attention to himself.
No, that was for the three fools that stood at the heart of the grotto, weapons out and ready.
A roar was their only warning, as a great beast erupted from behind the waterfall. Hundreds of rainbows scattered across the grotto as the spray caught the sunlight, then vanished as the creature landed before the party. Like some unholy mixing of wolf and bull, the creature howled its fury from a wolf's head set on a thick bull's neck. Built like a tank, it stood easily as tall as Sarril, and was covered in thick, shaggy blue fur slashed through with black stripes. It had great horns arcing forward alongside its head, the tips gleaming wickedly in the sunlight, and huge paws with vicious claws that clicked against the rock as it moved.
The three adventurers stood motionless before the beast for a few critical moments. That was all it took.
The beast lunged forward, paw extended, and slammed Sarril into the ground. As it bent to bite, Marith broke from his stupor and charged.
"Crashing Strike!" Marith cried as he whipped his sword around and slammed it into the beast's shoulder. A shockwave rippled through the beast, sending it lurching to the side.
Sarril struggled to his feet and gave himself a shake. Blood ran from parallel grooves in his chest.
"Gracious goddess, heal their wounds - Healing Light!" Castia cried. A golden light rose around Sarril, the slashes healing in moments.
He nodded his thanks to Castia, then drew his swords and leapt into battle with the beast. Marith danced before the creature, sword darting out to swipe at any available limb.
"Slashing Bolt!" Sarril swept his swords out. Lightning leapt from his blades and crashed into the beast. It danced through the creature's fur, discharging on the ground, into the air, anywhere but into the creature itself.
The beast snarled and spun, lashing out and sending Sarril flying. Moments later, it too went flying, as Marith struck back. But it appeared unphased, bounding back into the fray the moment it landed.
Ice sprung up wherever its paws landed. Marith slipped and fell before the creature. The beast howled - ice rose, caging Marith before he could stand.
"Fire Blast!" Marith swept his sword as much as he could. Fire rippled out and met the ice with a hiss, melting it quickly.
Back on his feet, Marith gripped his sword in both hands and charged. "Flame of Annihilation!"
Bright yellow and white flames danced through the air and converged on the beast. For a brief moment it was obscured. Then...
A howl echoed through the grotto, filled with rage and command. Ice formed, quenching the flames and revealing the beast once more. Though blackened in more than one place, it remained steady on its paws.
Evoril watched dispassionately as the four fought. This fight was not his - they had come to find a sword for Marith. Let Marith and his cronies fight.
Evoril would watch.
Back and forth the battle raged. Castia's shields and healing kept the other two on their feet, but only just. Sarril and Marith traded blows with the beast. It was too large to be easily knocked about or dizzied, and shrugged off most spells cast upon it. Though it was bleeding, it showed no sign of tiring. Instead, it began to attack with greater fury, amber eyes glowing with power.
Marith and Sarril traded worried looks. They had not expected this.
"Shall we?" Marith asked as he darted back. The beast charged past him and skidded to a halt at the water's edge.
Sarril nodded.
The two darted to either side of the beast and raised their swords, crying out together, "Executioner!"
A beam of bright red coalesced, connecting their blades. Together, they raced past the beast, the light slicing deep into the creature's body.
It howled.
Evoril clapped his hands over his ears, nearly driven to his knees by the sheer power contained in that howl. Below him, the three adventurers were on the ground, writhing in agony.
But, strangely, the beast only turned and plunged into the pool of water. Blood rippled outward.
Silence returned.
Marith pushed himself back to his feet. "Did we...?"
Castia shook her head. "I doubt it."
"I never want to face something like that again." Sarril groused as he rose.
Evoril, however, only had eyes for the pool. It was... glowing. Brightly. More than could be accounted for by the sunlight that still streamed down.
It finally clicked in his mind in the same moment that the water roiled once more. The beast arced up from the water to land once more on shore. Healed. Whole.
They were fighting next to a spring of healing.
The three adventurers began to curse, as they scrambled away. Castia chanted her healing spell once more. Marith took his stance. Sarril crouched, preparing to leap.
And Evoril stepped down from his perch and spoke. "Guardian, begone."
The four frozen and turned to stare at him - three incredulous and one assessing. Amber eyes met and held his own. Challenging. Daring.
He did not look away. "As Lord of Night, I command you to begone."
Slowly, the beast paced towards him. Evoril allowed it, not moving a muscle as it pressed a cold nose to his forehead.
::You are new.::
"Yes."
::You wish to destroy the one who destroyed other-you.::
"Yes."
::They also desire the same.::
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them, as they assessed one another. Distantly, Evoril sensed the restless stirring of the three children. So long as they did nothing rash, he could not care less.
::You are worthy. The boy-child shall have his sword.::
"Thank you, Guardian."
The beast snorted and stepped back, pacing the distance to the edge of the pool and leaping across it once more. Moments later, it came bounding back, a sword held tightly in its teeth.
Marith's eyes widened in shock as the beast dropped the blade at his feet. He knelt, lifting the blade reverently. It shone with an inner light, and the stone on the pommel blazed to life the moment his hand touched the hilt.
The beast turned to Evoril once more, and fixed him with an amber stare. ::When you have need of me, call, and I will come. I am Ice Hunter.::
Evoril nodded, and watched as Ice Hunter turned and bounded back into its lair.
"And you couldn't have done that when it first showed up?" Sarril asked.
Evoril fixed the boy with a look. "Your battle was turning this grotto into a wasteland, and it was clear you could never defeat the beast."
"We could too!" Sarril said. "We nearly had him, after all!"
"It was fully healed after diving into the pool. You had no chance at success."
"So why didn't you help us from the start?" Castia asked, her eyes narrowed as she took in his pristine appearance.
Evoril snorted and turned on his heel, intent on exploring the grotto, now that it was safe.
"Castia," he shot over his shoulder, "I am a Lord, and is it not cheating, bringing a Lord along to a battle like this?"
He didn't stick around to see what their reaction to that would be.
431 LE, Hidden Forest
The forest rippled with the same power that had once graced Arranis Grove, that still graced the Living Grotto - the power of the ancient and holy, the power of nature at its most primal.
Evoril sat at the very edge of the adventurer's camp, one knee drawn up to his chest and the other leg extended before him, arm over his knee and the other behind him, supporting his body. His back was to the group, a simultaneous declaration of his disinterest in their beings and his indifference to their potential to cause him harm.
The forest, however... that was interesting. It was from places such as this, legends said, that the Agaril had first arisen, children of the primal magic. It still called to some hidden part of him, soothed some inner void that he lived with since the day he was born.
His people were fools to distance themselves from such glory.
"Riyal for your thoughts?"
Evoril tilted his head slightly to look up at Sarril, debating whether or not to answer. Eventually he shrugged and turned back to the forest. "The forest whispers quite loudly tonight."
"I didn't realize you could feel it, too." Sarril replied as he dropped to the ground in an untidy sprawl of limbs, his body just barely intruding upon Evoril's personal space. He gestured absently back to Marith and Castia, who were locked in a quiet conversation. "They can't. They couldn't feel the Grove or Grotto, either."
Evoril forced himself to remain as he was, though Sarril's closeness... bothered him. He'd been a recluse long enough to not appreciate such forced intimacy, though perhaps Sarril saw nothing wrong with the bare foot that remained between them. "I have always felt magic, especially primal magic. It is one of my skills."
Sarril hummed in acknowledgement, his fingers tapping out a wordless tune on the ground as he thought. "That's why I've never seen you cast anything resembling common spells."
Inclining his head slightly in agreement - after all, that was close enough to the truth as to not be a lie - Evoril allowed the silence to stretch between them, thankful that the redhead didn't see the need to fill every moment with chatter.
"Hey, Sarril!" Marith's voice broke the hesitant peace that had settled. "Dinner's up!"
"Want anything?" Sarril asked as he turned his questioning gaze on Evoril.
"Of course he doesn't," Castia said dismissively. "He's too above us to eat with such lowly mortals."
"Castia, behave." Marith reprimanded absently. "Whatever your personal feelings, we need his assistance."
"What assistance?!" Castia shrieked. "He just... just tags along and does nothing, says nothing, is nothing! I don't see why you had to invoke that damn custom!"
"He is well within his rights. I only invoked his aid on Adura, he's under no compulsion to help us with anything else."
"Then why can't he just stay in his tower and come to us later?" Castia whined.
"Because," Sarril cut in, his voice laden with annoyance, "none of us are worshippers of the Lord of Night, so we have no right to summon him. You should be glad that the Lord of Night is even permitted such freedom as he has shown us!"
Evoril kept his face carefully blank as he stared out into the forest. He could hardly blame them for their disregard - after all, he'd struck Castia in the back on their first meeting, set a dangerous wyrm on Marith, and personally dealt with Sarril with one of the most destructive Arts known to the world. Not to mention his continual disregard for the various bosses that they had been hunting down since he had joined. So far, the only thing he had done for them was destroy monsters that went after him personally - not exactly the most sterling of recommendations for his character.
"Here," Sarril said softly as he came back to Evoril's side.
He blinked, looking from the offered bowl of stew to Sarril's earnest crimson eyes and then back. This courtesy was... new. He was unsure how to take it.
Apparently he had hesitated too long, as Sarril began to reluctantly withdraw the offering. "Oh, s-sorry. I didn't think, of course a Lord doesn't need--"
"Lords are capable of eating." Evoril offered his own olive branch as soon as he woke from his surprise. He sat up further and accepted the bowl from the surprised swordsman, settling it in his lap. "Thank you."
Sarril lit up like a puppy at the words, and promptly dropped back to the ground once more - this time leaning on him!
Somehow, Evoril didn't have the heart to shove the other away.
431 LE, Cliffs of Illusion
Evoril hummed softly to himself as he stared out over the cliffs and into the desert beyond. They were not, luckily, going to have to cross it. Rather, Marith had heard of the cliffs and wanted to detour to view them at least once before they went after the self-proclaimed God Adura. He supposed he couldn't hold it against the boy too fiercely. After all, he'd done similar when he was a youth, just out to explore the brand new world that had formed in his peoples' absence.
The cliffs were breathtaking, shimmering in the noon-day light and distorting the air above them with the famous illusion-mists. His gaze traced over the half-seen illusion, then darted back to the camp where the other three adventurers were resting. They were busy, not paying any attention to him. He could afford to lose himself in the mist for a moment.
Evoril took a deep breath and stepped closer to the edge, immersing himself in the magic and light and vapor that gave the cliffs their name.
There, just on the edge of the horizon - Caer Erathul in all its glory. Spires reaching towards the sky like the greedy hands of children, a web of bridges and ladders and ropes strung between them like a drunken spider had been given free reign. Nothing was at ground-level, for the Agaril had felt that the ground was beneath them - why would a race just a step below divine have any need to set foot on such a base material?
The five conservatories that hung, suspended between spires hundreds of feet in the sky, were exempt from that contempt. After all, they were the sky-gardens, as close to divine as earthly matters could be.
"What is it that you see?"
Evoril turned his head enough to view Sarril out of the corner of his right eye, and contemplated how to answer that. What could he say? That he looked upon the time-locked vision of a culture long lost to history? A culture that would have spat upon him for associating for such base creatures as these humans?
"My home." He eventually settled for a half-truth, and turned his attention back to the distant vision. It had been over a decade since he'd last seen it, and he had a sinking feeling in his chest that he never would again.
Sarril hummed in acknowledgment then fell into silence for a moment longer. "The Spire of Night or where you were born?"
"Which do you believe?" Evoril attempted to deflect the question, then mentally cursed his clumsy effort.
Sarril was silent for a long moment, the sound of the wind and their breathing the only thing between them. When he finally spoke, Evoril twitched slightly in surprise.
"I see Port Netheran, and father's great ship sitting in port."
Evoril turned his head to view Sarril out of the corner of his eye again, surprised at the admission though he allowed none of it to show on his expression. The swordsman had been just as close-mouthed about his origins as Evoril had - he knew that Sarril had joined the other two in some small trading town when they were looking for an escort through a mountain path, but nothing beyond that.
Now, it seemed, he had been handed the answer - Sarril was a Nethias. It was no wonder he never spoke of it. Not only were the Nethias a shunned fragment of humanity, but if Evoril was right, father's great ship sitting in port implied that Sarril's father was Vedorik, the most wanted pirate to sail the oceans.
"How is it you've spent so much time on dry land, then?" Evoril asked, a hint of curiousity in his voice.
Sarril shot him a wary, considering look, before turning his attention back to the illusion. "For the same reason that the Water Upwelling was never 'claimed' by this group."
Evoril snorted, a few questions finally coming clear in his mind. "No wonder my various water and ice spells had no effect on you beyond shoving you around."
"Hmmmm." Sarril's lips twitched up into a smirk, a pleased light dancing in his eyes.
"I see Caer Erathul." Evoril eventually reciprocated. "My birthplace."
Sarril's expression reflected the confusion he was no doubt feeling - Erathul was no city or town name in the current world, and there were only a handful of well fortified border towns that used the word 'caer' in their names.
Evoril decided to take pity on the poor boy and enlighten him. "It is a city of spires in the far west, hidden in the mountains."
Sudden recognition bloomed in Sarril's expression. "The city of spires is a real city? Father and I have tried hundreds of times to find a way in! I'd just about written it off as a prank by some bored Lord."
"You've... been there?" Never had he expected that. His lips twitched in amusement as he imagined the reactions of some of the more xenophobic members that he had met in his youth, at both the fact that Sarril and his father had been there, and at the thought that their grand city was nothing but a prank.
Sarril nodded excitedly. "So, how do you get in? I mean, I can't see you with wings beneath those robes of yours, and we couldn't find any doors at ground level, so..."
Evoril blinked, then snorted softly at the very idea of having wings. "Summons. There's my Lightning Drake, the Wind Phoenix, the Herd Mother, and several others. But for the most part, we never bothered setting foot on the ground."
Something in his voice must have tipped Sarril off as to the real opinion of his people about leaving the spires, because Sarril was eyeing him appraisingly.
"You're amazingly civil for being raised to look down upon us ground-walkers."
"And you are far too perceptive for your own good," Evoril said.
They both lapsed into silence by mutual consent as Marith and Castia approached. Somehow, it just didn't seem... right... to continue the discussion in front of two perfectly normal - and perfectly biased - people. The happy chattering of Marith and Castia washed over the two of them as they stood and stared off at the places of their birth.