Echoes of Ceotir

Another flight of stairs and Finlay couldn’t help but wonder how far underground the guild office went. He was starting to think the surrounding buildings were all interconnected in a giant network below the shrine. The room itself was equally small and plain without any distinguishing features, and he knew without Sara's guidance he’d have gotten lost long before reaching it. But rather than a large desk that stretched across the room, there was a single bed which was far more practical than comfortable beside a variety of medical equipment.

Within the room was a short woman wearing a long white coat; she was fiddling with a tablet and muttering to herself with an intensity that seemed commonplace among the guild members. When they entered the room, Sara immediately walked to one of the chairs and pulled it to the side to sit on. The woman turned to face her with a questioning gaze that signalled to Finlay she wasn’t expecting anyone other than him.

“Any particular reason you’re joining us?”

“Curiosity,” replied Sara as she got comfortable.

“I see. Now then, Finlay,” she turned to him. “Take a seat on the bed and I’ll need you to either open or remove your shirt.”

He did as she asked and made a mental note that people in the guild tended to not bother introducing themselves before asking him to do things. She continued to tap away at her tablet while he waited but her muttering continued and she seemed to be getting more agitated by the minute.

It reached the point where he felt the need to ask. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes, but nothing you need to worry about.”

She sighed and placed the tablet down on a small countertop that was fixed to the wall behind the bed. “You have almost no medical history.”

“I think I’ve only been to the hospital once for a broken bone.”

“Exactly, I don’t even know where you were born.”

“I was born on the island of Easach.”

“Well, I suppose that explains it.”

She started clipping things to his fingers and wrapped a band around his arm that inflated when she pressed a button on the attached machine. She continued to ask him questions about his medical history, down to the smallest details of how often he got sick. She checked his height and weight, diet choices and exercise practices. Most of the tests and questions seemed standard as far as he knew and with each one, she recorded data on her tablet.

But then she brought out a machine he didn’t recognise; it had a circular metal plate with a screen on one side and three elasticated bands that plugged in at one side. She put the plate on his chest so the screen faced outward and wrapped the bands around his shoulders and waist to secure it. After a few adjustments, it sat over the upper part of his chest, off-centre and where his heart would be.

“That provides a more precise measurement of your Anam level as well as some additional data relating to the flow and potential growth,” Sara was answering his question before he could ask it.

“Interesting,” said the woman as she was checking the fixture. “It’s unlike you to go out of your way to explain these things.”

“There are certain special circumstances around Finlay, I believe he’s earned the right to that information.”

The woman paused and looked at him as though she were trying to gain insight into what was so special about him. There was nothing to see.

“I was involved in the mining station incident.”

“Oh, well aren’t you just a magnet for trouble.”

She turned on the machine and watched as numbers moved over the screen, and as before, took notes on her tablet. Sara stood up and peered over the doctor's shoulder with her previous intensity and though he tried to look at the screen, it was too awkward an angle for him to see anything useful.

“Good, you are in an acceptable range.”

“Disappointing,” Sara grumbled, which caused the woman she had been leering over to flinch.

Finlay was also surprised by her response. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, sorry, I don’t mean it like that, it’s just that your levels are, well— normal.”

“Since when is that a bad thing?” Said the woman.

“Not a bad thing, only we were expecting something more.”

“What does that mean for—” he paused, he wasn’t sure if it was okay to talk about the whole devoured thing and whether it was a good idea to blurt it out in front of this other person.

“It certainly suggests you didn’t devour any spirits,” Sara said, clearing his doubts immediately.

“What?!” The woman stared at Sara.

“Nothing for you to worry yourself over, though I’m looking forward to telling Ronan.”

Sara was grinning a little too hard at that final thought. He only felt confusion and in the quiet part of his mind, a little disappointed they hadn’t found more. The woman was shaking her head though he was unsure if it was from confusion at the conversation or annoyance at Sara getting in the way of the exam.

“I have everything I need from you. Sara, are you going to take him to the next stage as well?”

“I am, yes.”

She looked at Sara and then back to Finlay with narrowed eyes, a suspicious gaze at her investment. He wasn’t sure what the normal process was—it seemed reasonable that Sara was accompanying him in the strange place.

“Come on Finlay, now for the big test.”

He hopped off the bed and thanked the woman for her time before following Sara out of the room. The corridor they followed was much longer than the previous but it didn’t go any deeper. When they reached the end there was a large double doorway; Sara stood in front but turned to him before opening it.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

He was not ready.

She opened the door to a giant circular room that was too familiar and the emotion that came with the memory it called upon almost knocked him over. The room was just like the sanctuary; it was of similar size, circular and extended upwards for as far as he could see. The walls were the same black, opaque glass-like stone though there were no dancing lights to pulse away from his footsteps. Sara jumped to him and held his arm in support as he stepped back a few paces.

“Are you okay, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry, just, it’s the same as the sanctuary was, I guess I wasn’t ready for that.”

“It’s okay, take your time, we can step back outside for a minute if you want.”

“No, it’s fine, thanks. I’m okay, I was just surprised and I guess it brought back some emotions that I wasn’t ready for.”

She was staring at him which only made him feel guilty over his reaction. He tried to reassure her that it was okay but there was something within him that felt uncomfortable, that didn’t want to be here any more. He pushed the feeling to the side as best he could; he knew it was fear, the experience of almost losing himself the last time he was in such a building. But this was different and he had to continue to remind himself of that.

“Let’s do this,” he said to her, trying to show an air of confidence.

There were a few differences in this room compared to the sanctuary, the obvious being multiple entranceways to the floor. The doorway behind him was one of four, each spaced equally apart around the room and he suspected they related to the compass points. The other bigger difference was the group of people in the middle of the room that were walking amongst several tables and either talking to one another or peering over tablets. Another mental note that staring intensely at tablets to the point of ignoring the world around them was also common among guild members.

They walked over to the group of people and a man greeted them; he seemed as curious about Sara being there as the doctor in the previous room had been. She smiled at the man and then held a finger up at Finlay to signal she’d be right back before almost skipping to a woman who seemed lost in her tablet behind them all.

“Hello, you must be Finlay. I’ve had your record sent over and I’ll be escorting you through the selection.”

He was about the same height as Finlay and was also wearing a long white coat though it looked different from the doctor’s. He smiled at the man and followed him around to the closest table.

“Now then, how much do you know about the selection?”

“Sara explained a fair amount; the weapons of the Ancients, they hold spirits and may or may not respond to me based on an affinity that I have with it.”

“It seems she really did explain a lot to you, well there isn’t too much more to say on the matter. We’ve measured your current Anam level and have selected appropriate items that are within your range. All you need to do is touch each one and we will be able to see if there is a response or not.”

“If more than one responds, do I choose which or are there some other criteria?”

“Jumping the gun a bit there, it’s actually quite rare for someone to align with more than one, let alone several. They seem to communicate with one another in ways we don’t understand and when one chooses a candidate, it’s as if they claim a right to them.”

He nodded and stepped towards the small waist-high square table. There was a knife sitting in the middle of it that was a lot simpler in design than he had expected it to be. In fact; it looked very basic, so much so that you might pass it up as a cheap production if you were to see it in a store.

He picked the knife up and felt a pulsing in his hand, it was a heartbeat, a quiet thud in the palm of his hand that wasn’t uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but smile at the small knife, it felt as though he was interacting with a child instead of the terror the spirit in the sanctuary had become.

“Hrm, interesting,” the man standing behind him took a note on his tablet. “Well, I think we can move on.”

“What exactly is supposed to happen?”

“You would know if you experienced it, the spirits within the weapons communicate with you. Most people find it a little uncomfortable at first, it’s a strange sensation where you feel their intention and desire—not an actual conversation of course. But it’s very apparent when you experience it.”

“I felt something, like a heartbeat in my hand when I held it.”

He looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean but it’s a stronger reaction. Trust me, if you connect with one, you’ll know.”

He put the knife down and moved to the next table which was only a little bigger than the first. On top of it was an axe, a small handheld hatchet that looked better for cutting firewood into kindling than fighting giant demons. Once again, as he held it he felt that familiar heartbeat sensation. This one was more pronounced and slower and didn’t feel as strong as he experienced with the sanctuary. He turned the axe in his hand, looking it over as he waited for the communication the man had told him to expect, but nothing came.

“Another no,” he wrote some more notes on his tablet. “Continue to the next one.”

“Forgive me if this sounds rude but they aren’t exactly what I was expecting.”

The man smiled. “They don’t look like much do they?”

“I guess I was expecting something bigger, more elaborate, I don’t know—magical.”

He laughed and a few people turned to them. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure everyone thinks that way though most don’t have the nerve to say it after handling just two.”

“The buildings are so extreme, the shrine is huge and made from this beautiful, unusual stone, everything is ornate— I just assumed the weapons would be the same.”

“I guess I can see why Sara explained as much as she did, you’re an inquisitive one. Alright, I’ll let you in on the secret. The weapons change as they grow in power, the spirits within them manifest into something new that bonds the wielder and it together. It becomes a part of you as much as anything else and with that, the appearance can become as you say, more ornate.”

“So the original form doesn’t really matter much, even if one’s an axe and another a knife?”

“Well yes and no, they could become so different they resemble other weapons but for the most part they become superior versions of themselves.”

He nodded and continued on to the next table. This one was a sword and a quick glance around the room and other tables told him they were common. It seemed that most tables featured one of three weapons; swords, axes and spears with a few knives thrown in here and there. The man had told him there were a wider variety of weapons but it depended on what they found and what suited his level. Clubs and maces were also quite common but there were only a few here today. They all seemed similar with few differences in shape and size but all of them seemed worn down, simple, and basic as though they were cheap, inferior products.

He wondered if that was deliberate, to conceal the weapons from those who didn’t know the truth behind their potential power. Or if it was due to the cost of creating materials, relying instead on the power of the spirits to improve their weapons instead of learning to build superior ones. Why would you need to develop better steel and craftsmanship when you could create something even better with the spirit’s power?

But as he moved through each table he had the same experience. He could feel the beating, the resonance that reminded him of a heartbeat but there was nothing else. No thought or intention and he was confident he’d feel it given his past experience with the spirit. But these weapons were quiet to him, almost as silent as the sanctuary had been when it rejected him.

He was two-thirds of the way around the tables when he stood before what appeared to be a stick. It was a reasonable size stick but it wasn’t particularly thick and seemed almost flimsy. Made of wood that had a dull grey grain and didn’t resemble any of the trees he knew in the area.

He was almost hesitant to pick this one up as he was feeling quite rejected by this point and the appearance of the stick didn't inspire confidence. He tried to push the thought out; it was unfair, he knew how powerful spirits were and this was only the beginning. It might look like nothing more than a tired piece of old wood right now but it could become something more, something amazing, though he wasn’t sure what that amazing would look like.

But when he touched it, there was a different feeling. It was a powerful surge, a beating of a drum that was more familiar to the touch of the sanctuary than anything he had felt on this day. He almost let go of the stick but forced himself to hold on as his mind seemed to lose track of everything else around him. The world almost faded into nothingness so that only he and the stick remained.

“I was waiting for you.”