The Tears of Kas̆dael

They rode through the beautiful countryside for hours, basking in the tranquility. It was only when the sun began to slip beneath the horizon that Jasper reluctantly agreed to return home.

“Come on,” Ihra urged him. “We need to find a quest tomorrow - the guild won’t pay us to lounge around doing nothing.” Reality crashing back upon him, he agreed to return to their cottage.

Back in his room, he changed out of his guild uniform into the simple linen tunic they had provided as pajamas. As he folded his uniform and placed it back into his knapsack, a letter tumbled out onto the floor. Oh yeah, Pa’al’s letter of introduction. He picked it up, and weighed it in his hands for a second, curious about what it said. Thanks to the cultists, we don’t really need an introduction anymore. With a shrug, he broke the seal and pulled the letter out.

His face darkened as he read the contents. There was a letter from Pa’al inside, a simple introduction that praised Jasper and Ihra for saving his life on an expedition that went wrong. But another letter was enclosed with Pa’al’s letter. A letter from Gebor. In it, the guild master of Hargish accused them of being associated with dark magic and cultists, and suggested that whatever guild master received the letter should make arrangements to take care of them. They were going to kill us! Did Pa’al know this letter was here? Did he betray us, or was he unaware?

He passed the night in fitful sleep, tormented by the thoughts of their fate if he had turned in the letter. Morning couldn’t come quickly enough. As soon as Ihra was ready, they headed for the guild hall, stopping at a stall for a quick breakfast. The guild inside the guild was far larger than the guild hall back in Hargish, and the enormous building dominated the small marketplace of the village.

The doors slid open as they approached, activated by the runes inscribed on their uniforms, and they made their way over to the boards. A throng of people was gathered around the boards, the hubbub of excited speech rising and falling like the tide as groups discussed their new quest, or fought for rare opportunities. Ihra deftly squeezed her way through the crowd, Jasper awkwardly following behind, apologizing more than once as he bumped into people, before arriving at the board.

The board was covered in brightly colored posters advertising jobs.

“Guard a caravan to Tzukappe.”

“Kill a man-eating wolf terrorizing the village of Akko.”

“Join an expedition to the ruins of Als̆arratu.”

A plethora of smaller requests was scattered across the board, ranging from private individuals looking for bodyguards, to combat training, and even vermin extermination. Jasper was surprised at how little many of the jobs paid. Most of them offered less than half a gold, with the private contracts usually offering even less.

Nothing truly called to him, but he eventually found himself drawn to the expedition to Als̆arratu. Despite the terrible turn that the expedition to Yar-Khennor had taken, Jasper didn’t really relish the thought of simply playing escort duty. But he held his tongue, curious to see what Ihra selected. At last, she pointed to a private contract tucked away near the bottom. “Let’s do this.”

Jasper hadn’t even noticed the flyer and bent down to read it. The details were sparse at best.

Escort Lady Aphora to the Tower of Ysagila in the ruins of Als̆arratu. Pays 1 gold per week for each party member.

“Hmmh, it kind of sounds like an escort quest, but the pay is good." He read the name again. The ruins of Als̆arratu. "It's actually the same place as the guild expedition is going to, so maybe it wouldn't be too boring, after all.” Jasper pulled the flyer off the board and stood up. “Not sure if we really fit the bill, though. ‘Pays 1 gold per week for each party member.’ Do you think we qualify as a party with just the two of us?”

Ihra shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to ask. The pay is pretty decent, and in the long run, the most profitable quests almost always come from the nobility or temples. The guild is government funded and just doesn’t pay as well, especially with all their focus on the war. If we can get in good with this Lady Aphora, it might open the door for even more profitable jobs in the future.”

They took the flyer over to a guild attendant, who looked up the details on the job. “You’ll need to apply in person for the job. Her residence is back in the city.” He handed them the information and bade them farewell.

“Good luck, but don’t get your hopes up. The posting has been there for a long time, and thus far she’s rejected everyone who ever applied.”

They retrieved their horses from the guild stables and clattered down the streets of the sanctum back towards the exit to Gis̆-Izum. As they drew near the giant gates, a guild attendant waved a hand to stop them. “Wait! Do you have business in the city?” Jasper nodded yes, and the attendant pointed behind his shoulder to a large clock. “It’s the middle of the night in the city right now. You should come back in a few hours when stores will be open.”

Thus, they found themselves back in their cottage, twiddling their thumbs impatiently. Ihra promptly curled up on the couch and fell asleep, but Jasper was unable to drift off. As he slumped in the velvet armchair, bored out of his mind, he keenly felt for the first time the absence of all the leisure activities he had just taken for granted on earth. He knew the Corsythians must have something to pass the time, but as there were no computers or TVs, and books were quite expensive, aside from perhaps board games, he couldn’t really hazard a guess as to what those activities were. Drinking at pubs? Brothels? The hours ticked by slowly, lengthened by boredom until, the cozy chair and warm fire conspiring against him, he finally fell asleep.

When he awoke, the purplish haze of the setting sun glowed in the cottage window. Ihra was no longer on the couch, and, after calling out for her with no response, he realized she must have left the cottage. He tidied himself up in the mirror, and after a moment’s thought, decided to pull on a new guild uniform. Should probably look my best for this noble. As he tightened the last strap, Ihra walked through the door, accompanied by the smell of fresh bacon.

“Here.” She thrust a sandwich into his hands. “I ran out to the market to grab a bite to eat, and thought you might want something.”

He tore into the buttered rolls, dripping with bacon and cheese, with zest. “Thanks,” he mumbled, brushing the crumbs away. The sandwich was quickly devoured, and he washed his hands in the basin. “Ready to go?”

“Yep, let’s go get rejected.” Her cheery tone belied her words, and with obvious excitement, she hopped onto her horse.

This time the attendant merely nodded at them as they passed through the great doors into the city of Gis̆-Izum. Seeing the city for the first time in the light of day, Jasper was blown away by the sheer scale of the city. Hargish had reminded him a bit of the Middle East, but Gis̆-Izum resembled nothing on earth. Like the walls, the buildings were enormous and crafted from the same petrified wood. In some places, seams could be seen, but most of the buildings appeared to have been carved out of a single gigantic block. Was this whole place built by magic? If so, the scale of the magic was far beyond anything he had seen demonstrated.

His awe only increased as they traversed across the city, riding for two hours, before entering the nobility district. The district was gated, and they had to show their guild quest before the guard would let them in. The buildings here were not constructed from the same petrified wood as the city, but of pale rock, almost ivory in appearance. The architecture was noticeably distinct, and the straight, harsh lines that dominated the lower city were replaced by graceful curves and delicate arches.

Jasper recognized the architecture. In the Corsythia: Desolyton, he had mostly played in the north, where elven influence was much more dominant. Which elven kingdom this particular style was from was another question altogether, but he was surprised to see any signs of an elven presence in Sapiya.

They arrived at their destination and hitched their horses to the post out front. The circular building in front of them rose off the ground in a flourish before culminating in a curving point, the shape reminding Jasper vaguely of a white Hershey’s kiss. Great arching windows lined the bottom of the building, but there was no sign of a door. As they approached the building, a glowing rune appeared in the window closest to the street. The window slid into the walls, allowing them to pass inside. As they stepped through, the walls closed up behind them.

They found themselves in a large circular room, entirely crafted out of the same ivory stone as the exterior. Great pillars ringed the edge of the room, and as Jasper looked up, his breath caught in his throat. That’s impossible. The pillars rose at least two hundred feet, far higher than the building, and at the top, the moon hung suspended over the center of the room. It can’t be. He cast his eyes to the floor, and his eyes landed on the emblem he was looking for. The sigil of Onkodos Laos.

He had no time to dwell on this revelation, as an elven man strode into the room. His long black hair was held back by a silver diadem that matched his eyes, his clothes a simple black cloak engraved with silver runes. His youthful appearance was belied by the lines that creased his eyes. He looked over the two in silence for a moment, his eyes lingering long on Jasper. Finally, he seemed satisfied. “The Lady will want to see you. Come with me.” He turned and walked out of the room without another word.

They strode down a hallway lined with windows, surrounded on each side by large tranquil ponds that reflected the moonlight. Did we go through a portal? There was definitely no pond and it was broad daylight back in the city. Jasper shook his head. This was the work of a god. Normal rules need not apply.

The man ushered them into a room, leaving without a word. The room was, surprisingly, rectangular, and the sole focus of the room was the throne at its front. An elven woman sat on the throne. Large silver horns swept back from her head, a glowing silver ring was in her nose, and a delicate sheer gown fell over her shoulders. Jasper squirmed under the oppressive gaze of her piercing eyes, a physical weight pushing down upon him, and subconsciously his hands burst into the blue flames.

The pressure ceased, and she stood up, slowly walking towards them. “At last.” Her voice rippled like water, echoing through the stone room. “At last some useful applicants.” She stopped close to them, and like an animal, sniffed the air. “The locals here do not much like elves, and we have little use for them. But you two are not so pedestrian.”

She turned to Ihra. “A child of one of our lesser relatives, but still, of our blood. And you.” Her blues eyes dug into Jasper. “Your kind rarely leaves home, but your people are more than capable.” Her eyes widened, and she reached out her hand to touch his head. “I see the hand of our goddess is upon you, even if not the hypostatization we worship.”

She turned around, slowly walking back to her throne. “You will need to provide a list of your abilities and levels to my servitor, but as long as you are-” she scrutinized them for a second “-at least level forty, you will do.”

She can see our details, somehow, he realized.

Ihra and Jasper turned to leave, but as Jasper was about to step out into the windowed hallway she called out to him.

“Wait. I'd like a word with the boy, alone.”