A Shadow in the Mist

We have no control over the skills Wardens get when they bond with their relic, or the skills a Weaver gains when she first lays with her knight. What we do have some control over is traits. While it is true no one knows exactly what their trait is until they are awakened, it is always from one of their parents or a merger of the two. This allows for the rising of noble houses and ascensionof Kings whose blood-line traits allow them to hold back the threats to humanity.”

- an excerpt from Sir Matthew Coal on Explaining the Character Sheet

Aranea- Wednesday, August 7th, 564 AB

I leaned against Cain as we rode towards Mistwall. We were moving slower now that we were escorting the surviving merchant caravan. Cain had the Mace taken from the bandit chief. It wouldn’t be his to keep, but there would be a bounty for returning it to the family of the knight it had belonged to.

My hands spun. I was weary, having gotten little sleep in the saddle, but I was intent on purging the burning corruption inside me. As a Weaver, purifying Corruption was where I got most of my XP. I’d gotten some, fighting with Cain, but it wasn’t something I wanted to do again. Golden hairs grew from the tips of my fingers and my comb straightened them out, keeping them from tangling as I wound them together with my drop spindle. The process was agonizing, like holding onto a burning coal in your hand. I knew that because that was how Mother Leora had taught us.

Pain acclimation was necessary to become a Weaver. We had to learn to hold our hands above the flame of a candle until we could bear the pain without flinching. One summer, Mother Leora had us all sit on a nest of fire ants for an hour, and we weren’t allowed to move an inch or she’d switch us. While the training might have seemed harsh, it was necessary. Every once in a while there would be an aspirant who trained, and seemed to pass, who after bedding a Warden was unable to force herself to endure the pain of drawing the corruption out of her core.

These women either had to live the rest of their lives with that corruption sitting in their core, or they pushed themselves too hard, absorbing more corruption and oversaturating their core. Luckily these nascent Warlocks had barely any power and were easy to dispatch.

I kept at my work for hours, humming softly as I did to help my fingers keep time. I sagged back in exhaustion as I purged the last of the corruption from my core.

Quest Succeeded

You have purified yourself of corruption and converted it into a stable form of etheric energy.

Reward: 850 XP gained

Level Up! You have reached level 9! 15 Stat points are available to spend, Ether core increased by 30.

I leveled up twice with the XP gained. I hadn’t spent my stat points from my last level up. I paused, thinking where to put them. My Will was at thirty-one but I didn’t plan on becoming a combat Weaver. I remembered running through the forest and struggling to keep up with Sir Valren and Rineer. They hadn’t even been running at their full speed, moving at a slow jog so I could keep up with them. My physical stats weren’t even what freshly bonded Warden would have.

As a woman, I would never be the physical match of Warden, just as they would never have an ether pool my size without massively over leveling me. Still, I wanted to be at least the match for a standard human male. I put three points into Might and two into Agility and Endurance. The other eight points I split between Senses and Clarity. I pulled up my character sheet, examining the changes.

Core Level

9

Experience to Next Level

295/460

Bonded Element

Mist

Name

Aranea Le’meer

Hit Points:

231

Hit Point Regen:

7 per minute

Might

Agility

Endurance

Will

Senses

Clarity

6

6

6

31

11

10

Ether

Corruption Level

177/177

0/177

Trait

Final Stand: You gain +1% regen rate for every missing point of ether in your Core.

Primary Passive

Secondary Passive

Mist Sight: You can see through the Mist without impediment, it is visible to you only as vague haze in the air.

Mist Walker: You have immunity to the effects of the Mist able to breathe freely within it with no hindrance.

Mist Skills

Siren Song: Your voice sings out in a hauntingly beautiful tune for the next 30 seconds inflicting Pacify on creatures who can hear you and Clarity on allied targets within hearing distance.

Cost:

15 ether

Mist Veil: Your body becomes blurred by a veil of mist making you harder to hit for the next 20 seconds inflicting a 50% miss chance against you.

Cost:

8 ether

Ether Familiar: You conjure an elemental spirit of Mist to serve as your familiar. It will last until destroyed and is resummoned casting time 5 minutes.

Cost:

15 ether

Moon Skills

Lunar Ray: A blade of silver light shoots from your hands up to 100ft striking a creature you can see dealing your Core maximum charge as Moon damage.

Cost:

3 ether

Silver Purity: Closes wounds across a single creature’s body and removes any Disease, Infection, Debuff, or Curse affecting them.

Cost:

10 ether

Wind Skills

Voice on the Wind: Link yourself and up to 3 others to be able to speak even at whisper up to 200ft away for 10 minutes.

Cost:

9 ether

Sweeping Hurricane: A rushing wind pushes away anything not secured down in a 40ft cone in front of you.

Cost:

5 ether

“After I absorb your corruption and purify it I should hit level ten and finally catch up to your level,” I said.

“Hmmm,” Cain said distractedly, looking out towards the mountains and their mist-covered slopes. “Sorry, you’ll catch up to my level? That’s good. Hopefully we get a skill evolution soon.”

“How far along is your armor?” I asked.

Cain drew his dagger from where he kept it sheathed on his right arm. He formed his armor, the gauntlet flowing down and ending a third of the way to his elbow. It had grown three inches by my estimation, very rapid growth for someone of his level.

He sheathed it on his arm again.

“Why do you keep it sheathed on your arm?” I asked. “I’ve never seen someone keep their weapon like that.

I could feel the roll of his shoulders as he shrugged. “It’s something I found during my fight against the Fell Men. It keeps trying to slide out of its sheath when I keep it on my belt. Plus, it just feels faster to draw this way.”

He was silent for a time and I drifted off for a bit, jerking awake as we came to a stop. The sun was setting again, and we were making camp. Cain lifted me down from the saddle and I held onto his shoulders until he set me down on the ground. We set up our tent with the others, and I helped make the dinner. We had little variety in our ingredients but Sir Rineer brought over a buck he had gone ahead to hunt for and dressed while we were on the road. We added a few wild greens and some potatoes into a stew then created a grill, sprinkling salt over its ribs. There were a lot more people to feed now but I took two wooden bowls over to our tent where Cain sat, a wooden case in his lap.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the case.

“My flute,” he said.

He opened the polished wooden box to reveal a flute crafted from ivory and silver, intricately carved with a pattern of scales, making it look like the neck of a dragon. I ran a finger over its spine and the soft velvet cushion in the box.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Do you play?”

“Yes, but not in front of other people usually,” he said, looking somewhat shy.

“Would you play for me, please?” I asked, handing him his platter and bowl.

“Maybe after we eat,” he said, taking the food.

We ate, and I returned the bowls and platter to the fire where a wash basin was. One of the women we rescued had taken over responsibility for washing the dishes. I tried to help but she shooed me away. I returned to our tent and Cain stood up.

“I’m going to the river to wash before bed,” he said.

We both stank from our battle the day before and traveling so I stood to join him, bringing a bar of soap. We found a spot under the willows and stripped out of our clothes. I was still shy with being so exposed, even around Cain. I waited until he had his back turned before dropping my dress and sliding into the water.

I gasped at the icy cold water, dunking my head and fully submerging myself. I came up for air feeling adjusted to the water’s temperature. Cain surfaced as well, his hands wiping the water from his skin. He ran the bar of soap along his arms and torso and disappeared underwater again. He resurfaced next to me, his hand running along my waist and pulling me close.

Laughing, I kissed him as he ran the soap along my curves. My legs wrapped around him as his other hand ran along my body, rinsing me off. I took the soap from him, lathering his hair and he did the same to me. His lips touched mine and we submerged under the water, our eyes closed as our lips gently slid across the others. We resurfaced, the soapy water streaming down our faces.

Cain’s hand ran through my hair, his left hand supporting my back as I leaned back, letting my hair fan out in the slow-moving water of the river. He pulled me up to him again and I laughed, my hands sliding around his neck as I went in for another kiss. He carried me to the bank where he had laid out a blanket under the boughs of a willow, laying me down. His fingers ran gently along my neck tracing down and running between my breasts to my navel.

I shivered and giggled at the ticklish sensation. The water dripped off us and we dried in the summer air, the sun setting in the distance. Cain brought out his flute and began to play. I listened to the beautiful haunting melody as he played it, the soft lingering notes seeming to dance on the wind. My hair had dried by the time he was done and set it back in its case, closing it reverently.

My hands reached out as I pushed Cain back onto the blanket and slid my hips over his. My lips met his I ground into him, his movements slowly matching mine. Moments later I was heavily panting, my lips by his ear as he ran kisses down my neck. My nails dug into his back as we reached our climax, pleasure filling me along with a burning sensation in my core as I took on his corruption.

We lay on the damp blanket. I stared into his dark brown eyes as he brushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ear.

“I love you,” he said.

A new sensation fluttered in my heart. While we were married, Cain had never said that to me before. I suppose if he had said it our first time together it wouldn’t have meant anything, as we were just strangers then. Even now we only knew a little about each other.

“I love you too,” I said, and realized I truly meant it.

I wasn’t sure when we had gone from the arrangement assigned by our stations to this, but I was happy. Not all Weavers and Wardens fell in love with each other. Trust was needed for a Warden to pass on his corruption, but he didn’t need to love his partner.

We pulled on a fresh set of clothes, Cain helping me with buttons on the back of my dress. We returned to the camp. I could see some knowing looks making me blush and press up against Cain, our fingers interlocked as we returned to our tent. The light of the fire was the only source of illumination now as we settled in and I curled up against Cain, his arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace.

The next morning we ate a quick breakfast and rode out again. Our column stretched long down the road, the group wasn’t as tired so some of the children started playing in the back of the wagons. I wondered if they would remember the trauma they had experienced when they grew up; the haunted expressions on the women told me they would never be able to forget the horrors inflicted on them. Only three men had survived the bandit’s murder, torture and imprisonment, and I doubted these merchants’ wives would ever to take to the road again.

I could only hope they would find better lives in a settlement. We were still two days out from reaching Mistwall; there was only settlement on the road between here and there. This part of the kingdom was traveled only by merchants and patrols of Wardens culling djinn. The worst part of the journey was the tedium. I had long since finished my needlework by midday, fixing the tears in my and Cain’s clothing. The skirt I’d ripped chasing after him into the forest was fixed, but it would never look the same.

“We should get your armor fixed,” I said to Cain, looking at the various rents and tears in his gambeson and the thick leather chest-piece and guards.

“I’ll probably just buy better versions when we get to Mistwall,” he said. “Mending tears in leather instead of replacing it usually results in weaker armor.”

“Once I learn enchanting I can make your armor for you,” I said.

The thought of advancing my craft excited me. I had tasted combat and I knew it wasn’t for me. There was a reason women didn’t become wardens, and it wasn’t just because we got less stat points per level.

“How were you able to fight the bandit chief?” I asked. “I got enough XP from him that he had to be a much higher level than you. Even with no abilities he was tough, I saw what he did with one hit of his mace to your shoulder.”

Cain paused then whispered low. “My trait lets me become more powerful, it has its drawbacks though,” he said.

I was really curious but didn’t want to pry too much. “Are you comfortable telling me about it?” I asked.

Cain shifted in the saddle. “I’d rather tell no one, I will tell you that it’s linked to corruption in my core. It’s the reason your… Mother Superior warned me against telling anyone. She said it might make people kill me out of fear of what I could become if I fell to Corruption.”

“The church would never allow that!” I protested.

“The Church was who she was afraid would fear it,” I said. “Fear makes people do things they wouldn’t normally, or not do the things they should.”

His last words seemed to make him more distant. I leaned up and kissed him, trying to lighten his move. He smiled down on me, the shadows fading from his expression. I smiled back, glad to have lightened his mood after somehow drawing out those darker thoughts. Thankfully, the day was uneventful and we made better progress, everyone more energized than they had been the day before. We stopped for the night again and I helped Cain set up our tent away from the others. I wanted to use my ability Ether Familiar, but I wanted some privacy before revealing it.

The meal for tonight was some simple flat bread and rabbit soup. We ate, and handed in our wooden bowls then sat down in our little groups. Most of the other Wardens had their own cliques. The senior Wardens ate separately from the rest of us, the other ‘provincial’ Wardens ate together, and the noble sons all had their group.

Cain kept separate from them, seeming not fit into either group. I’d learned his father was a noble, and a war hero, but lived far out in the north. Near enough to the mountains to be away from civilization, but not so close as to be under constant threat from its slopes. Cain was like that; he was almost a noble’s son, but also wasn’t a provincial Warden whose family had saved up to afford for one of their sons to buy a Relic. Though a heavy responsibility, even the poorest of Wardens would be wealthier than a landowning farmer or caravan owner.

Someday I’d help Cain gather that wealth by acting as our house’s broker, selling the ether gems, monster cores, djinn weapons and my own enchantments for gold and silver to enrich our house.

I sat down in our tent and prepared to summon my familiar. The knowledge on how to do so was instinctually given to me by the Voice. I drew a circle on the ground as Cain watched, he gave me the Beast core I needed. Though it wasn’t listed in the skill’s description I knew that it was needed. I set the core at the center of the circle and began to sing words in a language I didn’t know. Many attempts had been made to decipher the language, but we had no frame of reference for what the words meant.

The casting took five minutes. It only took a small amount of ether from my core but the monster core at the center of the ritual flaked and cracked as it slowly drained of power. Fog rose up from it and then dissipated, leaving behind a spider that looked to be made of silver and crystal.

Name? – Species: Ether Spinner – Type: Familiar

I was hesitant to touch the creature. It was beautiful in a frightening way, about the size of my splayed hand. I held out my hand and it climbed onto it, weighing no more than a feather.

“Why is it a spider?” I asked. “I thought it would be a cat or some type of bird.”

“Do you like spiders?” Cain asked.

“No, I mean, I don’t dislike them. My name means spider; maybe that’s it?” I wondered aloud.

Cain shrugged. “The Voice does what it will, as I understand it, familiars are somehow based on their caster’s personality. What can it do?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But guessing on its species it weaves with ether threads or catches them somehow, it will probably help me when creating wards to strain wild ether.”

Then we’ll have to wait until we get to Mistwall to try it out,” Cain said, stretching out.

I laid next to him, looking up into the ceiling of the tent where my familiar spun itself a web and hung above us.

“What should I name it?” I asked.

Cain was silent, and I thought he might have gone to sleep. “It looks more like a piece of jewelry than a creature,” he said. “Like it was formed from threads of silver and blown crystal glass. Jewel seems like a good name for it.”

“Jewel,” I said trying out the name. “I like it.”

I reached up a finger, the spider sliding down a length of web to reach out its forelimbs and touch it.

“Jewel, do you like your name?” I asked, as the spider felt at my finger, its touch ticklish.

The spider pulled itself up into the web again, watching over us. I closed my eyes, leaning my head on Cain’s chest, listening to the murmuring of other conversations and the singing of the crickets before finally falling asleep.