Fortress Al-Mir

“No amount of glaring is going to bring my mood down today!” Arkk said with a laugh, raising his flagon with the crowd.

Once it became clear that Vezta was not a danger to the people of the village, suspicion turned to relief and relief turned to joy. Langleey Village would not fall to the wolves—or goblins—and the people would not have to beg the Duke for mercy. After clearing out the goblins who missed the memo that it was time to leave, everyone returned to the plaza. It was a bit of a grisly job, clearing the place out, but Vezta was more than happy to handle that task.

Keeping things tidy was one of her primary duties. Not combat.

Who would have thought?

The Baron raised his flagon, a wide grin on his face. “And right you are for that. Smile, Ilya! I didn’t break out the kegs of good mead so you could sit about unhappy!”

Before today, Arkk hadn’t known there was good mead. Just the watered-down beer that Ken brewed. The next celebration the village had, he would be reminding the Baron about the honeyed mead.

Of course, this afternoon wasn’t all about celebrating. It was as much to calm down the villagers as it was a toast to the routing of the horde. Two homes had gone up in flames, leaving little more than charcoal behind. A few other buildings suffered at the hands of goblins and were now trashed beyond reasonable habitation. Not that anyone would want to go back to their homes tonight.

For the next week at the very least, the village would split between the Baron’s manor, the church, and the main storehouse. All right up here around the plaza. Watchmen would set posts around the clock and nobody was to go anywhere on their own. While nobody really believed that the goblins and orcs would return after running from a thrashing delivered by just two people—plus the villagers toward the end—they couldn’t say for sure. Especially if some goblins got loose and decided to come back on their own.

“—jumped right on my back! The biggest orc you ever saw. Instinct took over and I threw myself into the wall. That stunned it enough to get it off me. I turned and started pounding its face in,” Hurtt said, miming punch after punch. “Thought I had it down to rights until its buddy showed up. An even bigger orc!” The small crowd he was telling his tall tale to gasped.

Arkk was fairly certain that his lightning had frightened off all the orcs well before Hurtt showed up. Once they realized that he was picking them out with his bolts of lightning, they vanished. He had probably only killed ten. Maybe not even that many.

John, sitting nearby, met Arkk’s gaze. He simply rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Not everyone was in quite as high of spirits. Those whose homes were damaged or destroyed went about with bitter-sweet expressions on their faces. While the village would help them recover, it still stung to lose what they had. Aside from them, Abbess Keena, though at a table nearby, hadn’t spoken to Arkk since returning. She wouldn’t even look at him. He did catch her sneaking glances—often with a heavy scowl in place—at Vezta.

Most people seemed a bit nervous about Vezta’s presence. More so those who had arrived in time to see the fight. Only Ilya, Baron Gert and his wife, John, and Hale seemed willing to approach. And Jorgen and Hurtt, neither of whom would ever admit to being afraid of anything.

It probably didn’t help that Vezta wasn’t exactly joining in on the festivities. She stood still and silent just behind Arkk, hands clasped together with a faint smile never leaving her face.

“What do goblins taste like?”

Arkk raised his eyebrows, ears catching a strange question right behind him. Turning around, he found Hale more than willing to approach Vezta. The young carpenter’s apprentice stood right at Vezta’s side, staring up at her. Vezta didn’t look like she noticed or cared, at least not until Arkk turned around. Only then did she look down at Hale, tilting her head to the side in the process.

“I saw teeth in the ground around you and Arkk,” Hale said. “One of the goblins fell into the open mouth and it snapped shut.”

The surrounding conversations slowly died off, Hale having spoken loud and clear. Even Jorgen and Hurtt paused their exaggerated tales to subtly glance in the direction of the mysterious monster.

“Humans consume boars, correct?” Vezta asked slowly. “Fat, juicy pigs?”

Hale nodded her head, sending her dark twin tails bobbing.

“Goblins are like the opposite of that. Stringy, scrawny, and more crunch than flesh.”

A few disquieted murmurs rippled through the villagers. Not that Vezta’s answer perturbed Hale in the slightest. She nodded her head as if that was what she expected and looked back up. “What about orcs?”

“I cannot say I have ever eaten an orc. None strayed close enough today and I do not recall such a creature existing the last time I walked the surface.”

Hale frowned but asked another question, undaunted. “Have you ever eaten a huma—”

“Alright!” John said, standing and grabbing Hale’s shoulders in one swift move. He started dragging her off toward the garden around the Baron’s manor. “Let’s go have a talk.”

An uncomfortable silence followed in their wake. A whole lot more people were probably wondering about Hale’s question, Arkk included. Unlike Hale, few others would have her apparently innocent curiosity over the matter.

“Orcs didn’t exist?” Arkk asked, trying to get the morbid question out of people’s minds. “How long ago was that?”

“I cannot say I counted the nights. I apologize.”

“No, no. Don’t worry. I just hadn’t ever heard of orcs not existing.”

The Baron, emboldened by the question and answer session, or just by Vezta breaking her silence, leaned forward somewhat. “We’ve had the occasional beastman and demihuman pass through the village, but I’ve never seen something quite like you. What manner of creature are you, if you don’t mind my asking?” he added hurriedly.

“I am the [SERVANT] of the [HEART].”

Everyone within earshot flinched except for Arkk. He shot a glance backward. “None of that,” he said.

Vezta dipped her head in an apologetic bow. “There is no better concept for describing myself, but I shall refrain from using… that language unexpectedly in the future.”

“Servant, the regular word, will have to work.”

“Understood. If that is what you wish,” Vezta said.

Ilya slammed her hands into the table as she stood up. “Arkk. You avoided me all day. We need to talk. Now.”

Arkk pressed his lips together, glancing around. Between Hale’s questions, the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE], and now Ilya slamming her hands down, the good mood of the celebration had completely vanished. His mood included. With a small sigh, he set down his flagon of mead. Ilya turned and stalked off a short distance down the path leading to the rest of the village.

“I’ll be back,” he said, both to Vezta as well as the Baron. He stepped aside, only to pause and shoot a pained smile at Gert. “Unless she realizes I left her bow back at the western edge of the Cursed Forest.”

That got a foggy chuckle from the rotund man.

Vezta, Arkk noted, did not follow after him. He was a bit surprised. Although he was going to tell her to wait—Ilya clearly wanted to speak privately—he still expected her to trail along until he told her not to. Unless she had known that he was going to tell her to wait… Which was possible.

There was something there. Something between them. Arkk couldn’t quite put his finger on it. During the fight, there had been a few times where he had known what she was doing without him actually seeing her do it. The moment when she had swiped one of the crossbow bolts out of the air stuck out vividly. Then there was when she had hidden in his shadow before using the magic circle to arrive. He had simply known where she would be.

They were connected together. Somehow.

It was a bit eerie but after that fight? Arkk found it hard to care that much. She had protected him and saved the village. He knew beforehand that there was some kind of binding in that contract, he just hadn’t known exactly what form it would take.

Shoving the thoughts aside, Arkk had to pick up the pace to catch up with Ilya’s long strides. Elf that she was, Ilya was a full head taller than he was. Her irritation put an extra bout of haste in each step, making her even faster.

They were well beyond the hearing range of anyone up at the plaza. Ilya showed no sign of slowing. She continued marching with purpose all the way down the small hill and to the carpentry shop. “Is your monster going to attack anyone?” she said, spinning on her heel as soon as they were around the side of the building.

Taken aback, Arkk shook his head. “No? She said she wouldn’t.”

“And you believe it?”

“I mean… yes? Why save the village only to turn around and attack it moments later? If she wanted to hurt people, she could have simply refused to help.” Arkk frowned. “And you believe that too, or you wouldn’t have left her alone back there.”

Ilya crossed her arms. Outside the direct presence of Vezta, she didn’t look quite so upset. Still, she pressed her lips into a thin line as she stared at Arkk. Turning away, she pointed to the magic circle that was still burned into the ground. “Take me there,” she said.

“Take you?”

“Hale told me. You disappeared into this circle saying you were going to get help and not to worry because it wasn’t a demon.”

“It’s not—She’s not. I asked the Abbess. Also, I asked Vezta. She seemed offended that I would even think that.”

“I’m worried it is worse than a demon.” Crossing her arms again, Ilya tapped her finger on her elbow.

“Worse? What could possibly—”

“Can you take me there or not?”

Clamping his mouth shut, Arkk looked down at the circle burned into the dirt. It looked intact despite the battle. There were a few stains on the ground around it. Dark blotches marring the dirt and grass from where Vezta had killed a few goblins upon their arrival. Nothing looked to have touched the circle itself.

“Yeah,” Arkk said. “I think so.”

Ilya stepped forward until she reached the center of the circle. Turning around, she shot Arkk a look.

Arkk wasn’t exactly sure how to send other people. Although he had used the circle three times and nothing bad happened any of those times, he hoped it was safe for other people to use. Reaching down, standing on the outside of the circle, he pushed just a little magic into it. The pattern in the ground flashed and Ilya disappeared.

Immediately, he felt warning bells go off in his head. Not in the sense that he might feel something was amiss, but literal warning bells. As clear as the church bells he had rung to warn the villagers. Focusing on the sensation made Arkk gasp.

He could see Ilya. She stood in the fortress library, looking around with narrowed eyes. He was still in the village, not moving, not sure what might happen if he appeared in the same spot she currently occupied. Yet, he could see her. A strange case of double-vision settled over his mind. She didn’t move save to draw her daggers, clearly checking around herself for danger. She even checked upward, though if she noted Arkk watching from above, she didn’t show it.

Slowly, she moved forward, reaching out for a book on a nearby shelf. The spine crumbled under her lithe fingers. Not promising for Arkk’s hope of finding magic in that library. As soon as she stepped out of the circle, approaching the crystal ball, Arkk moved in. With a push of magic, Arkk was inside the library alongside Ilya.

She jumped, grip tightening around her dagger, but she didn’t strike at him.

“This place is old,” she said softly. “The Cursed Forest was the Cursed Forest when my mother was a young girl. If people ever lived here, it probably wasn’t the Cursed Forest back then.”

“I thought it was some pre-Calamity fortress. Mostly because of Vezta.”

“She told you so?”

“No, but just look at her. Never heard of a beastman, demihuman, or anything that resembles her, right? More like the monsters of old.”

Ilya drew in a resigned breath through her teeth. “So you knew that much and still decided to go along with what she wanted?”

“I don’t think that makes her worse than a demon. Does it? She’s just old. Like a dragon or… Where are you going?”

Ilya moved with purpose, exiting the library. Arkk did note that the door did not simply swing open for her until he approached from behind. If she was curious about it opening on its own, she didn’t say. Instead, she looked up and down the corridor before selecting the right path.

The direction that led toward the [HEART].

Ilya stopped partway, kneeling near one of the skeletal corpses. Prying a shield from where it had seemingly fused with the floor, she stared down at the remains of the heraldry on the corroded surface. It was a bit hard to make out, but it was some kind of great tree. Something surrounded the tree—people, perhaps?—but it was mostly a scarring of rust. It certainly wasn’t the emblems used in the Duchy of Mystakeen.

An unsettling noise echoed down the corridor. A slopping, squishing noise. Ilya was on her feet, daggers at the ready. Arkk started as well, though quickly calmed down. Much like simply knowing where Vezta was or seeing Ilya in the library, he knew and saw what was ahead of them.

“It’s a lesser servant,” Arkk said, grimacing as he watched its pulsating mass of boiling flesh squirm down the corridor.

It turned the corner of a room up ahead. The doors, Arkk noted, opened for it all on their own. It paid them little mind, choosing to stop at a corpse instead. A thick tentacle stretched out, mouth forming as it moved. Its mouth, a ring of razor-sharp needles, scooped up the skeleton, armor, and all, ripping it to shreds as it ate.

“Vile,” Ilya hissed.

Arkk… didn’t disagree. Perhaps because he had seen one before, he didn’t find it that shocking, but it wasn’t a pleasant creature to look at. Of greater interest was the fact that it was his. Not the same one he had summoned back during the fight—that one had been killed in seconds—but it was still connected to him. Just like Vezta was.

After consuming the corpse, it started doing something. A hideous dance of gyrating tendrils. There was magic in the air, twisting and following its movements. Slowly, the cracked and worn stone wall it stood near changed. Bricks that must have been down here for ages, wearing down under wind, water, and time, reformed. Cracks sealed together, bricks grew into the places left behind by missing bits, and the entire section of the wall smoothed over, looking as if the masons who built it had just finished.

“My mother warned me of this,” Ilya said.

“Of tentacle monsters with aspirations to be stone masons?” Arkk asked, watching as the lesser servant moved to the opposite wall to repeat its dance.

Ilya looked back, shooting him a look. “Of a great evil ready to rise once again. Monsters that once brought the world to its knees, nearly destroying everything.”

“I know it looks gross, but great evil? Those monsters just saved our village,” Arkk said, feeling defensive. Though he paused and thought. “Besides that thing is building, not destroying anything.”

The lesser servant finished with the wall and started on the floor. It cleared away bits of debris and a discarded sword, consuming them as it had the corpse earlier. Maybe that counted as destroying? But it was more just cleaning up, which became even more evident when the dark grey stone repaired itself just as the wall had, gaining a pattern like a compass rose with a deep blue-violet gemstone placed in the very center.

“I only know what my mother told me, which wasn’t much,” Ilya said, edging past the lesser servant. It didn’t seem to notice or care about their presence, carrying on cleaning the corridor. “I don’t know that she knows the full story. My mother is only a little older than six hundred. Much younger than this place if it truly is pre-Calamity.”

“And what story is that?” Arkk asked, only partially paying attention. He was more focused on the creature. His first thought was that Vezta had come back and created it because he was fairly certain that this place had been otherwise deserted, but she had been at his side ever since he activated that artifact.

Not to mention, it was connected to him. Not to Vezta.

“My mother, and her mother before her, lived here in this village specifically to keep watch on the Cursed Forest. The elvish village they came from believed a great evil resided here. An evil that would one day return.”

“Vezta helped save the village,” Arkk said again.

“I know. I do not know if that creature is the evil that my mother spoke of.” She paused, frowning. “It certainly didn’t feel like it back in the village. Though I can’t say it acted kind… the way it looked at Hale…”

“As far as I can tell, Vezta listens to me. I am not evil.”

Ilya looked back, flashing a grin. “No. Just stupid. Running through the Cursed Forest?”

“It worked, didn’t it? I got back before you and brought help. I wasn’t even poisoning the ground with every step. I checked.” Arkk stamped his feet on the ground as if demonstrating. “Walked right over some patches of grass and none of it withered and died.”

“Nevertheless,” Ilya started, smile fading. “The Cursed Forest is dead and has remained dead since my grandmother’s time. That doesn’t happen naturally. Something in this forest is causing problems.”

They stopped at the heavy iron doors that led into the room with the sphere and pit. Much like the hallway that the servant had been working on, something had refurbished this door. All evidence of wear, corrosion, and battle damage had gone. The surface practically gleamed. At Arkk’s approach, it swung open without a single creaking noise.

There were no bodies inside the chamber. Not even that odd cube with its strange limbs. The lesser servant must have cleaned the place out. The walls and floor had been repaired. Even that giant divot where the stone sphere had sat was now level with the rest of the floor.

Ilya didn’t follow him inside. She stood just outside, looking in. A wince crossed her features with every beat of the stone [HEART].

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… It feels wrong. You are at least capable of sensing magic, right? Surely you feel that in the air?”

Arkk looked at the beating heart. It thumped in time with his own heart. There was, he noted, a taste of magic in the air. It didn’t feel unpleasant or wrong. The more he focused, the more it felt like his own magic, if on a much grander scale. “Vezta said something about my magic being tied up in the heart.” Each beat spread out a faint wave of magic over the room. If he were being honest, it felt comfortable. Like he belonged here. “That is probably what you’re feeling.”

Ilya closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. “I’m no spellcaster. I don’t know what I’m feeling. I just don’t like it. Can’t we just walk away? Pretend you never found this place or that monster?”

“I made a promise,” Arkk said with a shake of his head. “Vezta helped save the village. I’ll help her out in turn. She seems…” He trailed off, thinking for a moment. “Lonely. Maybe. I would be the evil one if I just abandoned her.”

“Then promise me,” Ilya said, stepping into the room. She grabbed hold of his hands and held them up to her chest. “Promise me you won’t lose yourself.”

“Lose myself? Ilya, what do you think—”

“Promise me,” she said, far more insistent. “I’ll help. I’ll keep you centered. But I need you to promise that you will try too.”

Arkk swallowed, staring into her silver eyes. Ilya normally had the air of a tease about her, offering snide remarks and casually exclaiming false despair over his actions; the look on her face when magic he tried to do went wrong… But now, she was serious. Deadly serious.

Finding himself nodding, Arkk said. “Alright. I won’t lose myself. You can help me all you want, but it’s completely unnecessary.”

Ilya closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh of relief. Like he would have rejected her.

Just as Arkk was about to comment on the absurdity of that, he felt something. A slight change. A tether formed, stretching between Ilya and himself, relayed off the [HEART]. It was a lot like the bond he had noticed with that lesser servant or with Vezta, but not quite the same. They were directly connected to him. Ilya, with the [HEART] between them, was a step removed.

“Ilya?”

Silver eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Did you… feel that?”

Her brow furrowed. “Feel what?”

“I… don’t know. Something just happened between us.”

Ilya looked down between them, noticed her hands holding Arkk’s close to her chest, and promptly gave him a light shove. She shot him a heavy scowl and turned away. “I felt thanks for you. Nothing more happened between us, Arkk.”

“No, not—”

“I’ve told you, I’m much too young for you.”

“It’s not… You’re ten years older than me!”

“I’m only interested in other elves.”

“You’ve never seen any other elves besides your mother.”

Ilya started stalking away, shaking her head. “Come on, you love-struck fool. Now is hardly the time for this.”

Arkk caught her hand before she could walk more than three steps. “I’m serious, Ilya. Something magical happened between us and I do not mean that in a romantic sense. We’re… bound together, somehow.”

“Bound together?” Ilya raised an eyebrow. She locked eyes with him for a long moment, but slowly widened her eyes and looked over his shoulder. “Oh. I’m not sure what you are talking about…” Trailing off, she took a deep breath. “But the air here doesn’t feel quite so bad.”

“Is that good?”

“I assume so? But we should leave regardless. I don’t like leaving your monster alone with the villagers.”

“Yeah… I think I need to talk to Vezta and figure out exactly what is going on here.”

Thinking about Vezta, he found he could still see her. She stood in the middle of the village, hardly paying attention to anyone, though no one looked interested in interacting with her either. The little party seemed to be at a close anyway. Taking a moment, Arkk inspected the link between them, trying to figure it out a little more. He had assumed that it formed because he made that contract with Vezta, but now, with Ilya having a similar link, he wasn’t so sure. While inspecting it, he found he could tug on the link, for lack of a better word.

Ripped through time and space, Vezta appeared in front of Arkk. She was clearly off balance, but a part of her dress peeled away into a thick tendril, catching her. As soon as she got her balance back, the tendril merged seamlessly into her dress once again.

While Ilya drew her daggers in a flash, wary, Vezta simply turned with her faint smile firmly in place. She didn’t look the least bit irritated at suddenly finding herself somewhere new. Her golden eyes locked onto Arkk, dipped down to where his hand held Ilya’s hand, then moved up to Ilya’s face.

“Ah, your first minion. A wise choice. Her sharp elven eyes and keen accuracy with a bow offer great value in many situations.”

“My what?”

“Minion?” Ilya hissed, shifting a glare from Vezta to Arkk.

“I’m sorry,” Vezta said, canting her head. “Was there a mistranslation? [Initial]/[ready-set-go]|[minion]/[underling]/[employee].”

Arkk understood those concepts forced into his mind. He had hired Ilya. Their promise constituted an agreement for her to effectively work for him. It wasn’t binding. He could fire her or she could choose to leave. But for the moment, she was his minion. “Employee,” Arkk said, “is a better word. Use that.”

“As you wish.”

“Now, what is this link between us? And you and me. And me and…” Arkk trailed off, finding the lesser servant that was roaming the corridors of the fortress. With a yank on the link, he picked it up and dropped it down next to them. “Where did this even come from?”

Ilya jumped back with a sharp gasp, but Vezta just smiled down at the creature.

“A bond between a lord and his subjects runs much deeper via the [HEART]. We can call to you in times of crisis, drawing your attention. You are aware of where any of us are at any given time. The bond prevents direct harm caused by employees, though they can break the bond and then attack, you will at least be alerted. And, as you so expertly demonstrated, you can move us anywhere within your territory at will.”

Vezta knelt, smiling to herself as she patted the lesser servant on its… Arkk didn’t think they had heads or backs or anything resembling humanoid bodily structure. “As for this, now that the [HEART] is functioning once more, it will tend to the most basic of chores using these servants. A few will spawn on their own, but you can create more using the spell I taught you. You should be able to direct them if you wish. They are miserable fighters, but quite capable diggers and builders.”

“What is it?” Ilya said. “Not the… thing, but the HEART.” She tried to use the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE], but it just didn’t quite have the same effect as when Vezta did.

“[HEART]|[ultimate]|[defensive tool]/[offensive tool].”

Ilya didn’t look like the language bothered her all that much. She had flinched earlier, back when Vezta had identified herself to the villagers, but now, she barely blinked. “What is its purpose? Who built it and why?”

“Ah. It was a gift from the [PANTHEON] to my former master for the express purpose of using it as he desired. Through it, he acquired vast wealth, power, and followers. He would have been the ruler of this land were it not for the interference of the Heart of Gold, the Almighty Glory, and the Holy Light. They severed this world’s connection to the [UNDERWORLD], cutting off a majority of his employees and power. He sent me to uncover what they had done and how to reverse it. Alas, when I returned, my master was gone and the fortress was in ruins.”

Ilya and Arkk glanced at each other. He could see in her eyes that she understood about as much as he did. Which was to say not much at all. The three names Vezta mentioned were gods, she had said so before, but [PANTHEON] sounded like one or multiple gods as well. [UNDERWORLD] was a place. Maybe Vezta’s home? Somewhere not connected to the world.

“What was your former master’s name?” Ilya asked. “If he ruled the land, maybe we’ve heard of him.”

Arkk raised an eyebrow. He had no idea how Ilya would know that. Duke Levi Woldair was the only name he could think of off the top of his head, and only because he was their duke. He supposed he could name King Abe Lafoar for the same reason. Their predecessors? He didn’t have a clue. Kings and dukes just didn’t matter much in their little village.

“Keeper of the [HEART], Razerk.”

Just as Arkk expected, the name meant nothing to him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ilya slowly shaking her head as well.

“I wish my mother were here,” she said softly.

“She didn’t leave books behind? A journal, maybe?”

“No. Just the vague stories about keeping a watch on the Cursed Forest. She didn’t even say what to do about it. Just to watch.”

That got Arkk wondering. “Vezta, is the [HEART] responsible for the… deadness in the land around it?”

“Yes.” Ignoring the way Ilya tensed, Vezta continued, “The [HEART] is partially alive, but it requires magic as sustenance. Broken and without a master, the [HEART] sought alternative sources of nourishment, draining the life from the forest above.”

“So… it’s fixed then? The forest will recover?”

“I wouldn’t count on immediate change,” Vezta said slowly. “But so long as your magic continues to flow, the [HEART] should have no need of such methods.”

“Well, that’s great then,” Arkk said with a widening smile.

Ilya didn’t mirror his grin, staring at Vezta with cold eyes. “Is this thing going to kill Arkk?”

Arkk sucked in a breath, snapping his gaze to Vezta.

“No. Even if something were to block his magic from recovering, it would return to the forest over killing its master.”

Letting out a small sigh, Arkk put his grin on once again. “Wonderful. See? We’ve fixed things, not broken them.”

Ilya allowed herself a small shadow of his smile but started rubbing her forehead. “I think I need to sleep on this. Organize my thoughts.”

“We can have the little one prepare quarters for the employees—”

“I need to sleep in my own bed,” Ilya said, interrupting Vezta. She turned to Arkk, then started walking down the corridor. “Take me back.”

“Right. Right,” Arkk said, following after her. “But I might stay here for a while. Quiz Vezta on what else this thing can do. How it functions as a defensive tool and stuff like that. It would be handy if the goblins come back.”

“Fine. Just… remember our promise.”

“I will.”