3.3 Oath and Obligation

General Summary

Day 23

With the rest of the day, we finish the rough forging of our elven blades. Before we sleep, I try to commune with the Empress in the same way that I did with Lyssa. I wasn’t really expecting it to work, but it isn’t even exhausting the way it was with Lyssa. I suppose that means she’s so far away that it’s not even worth trying. I’m sure she’ll find her way to me if she needs to. I must have faith.  

Day 24 - 28

Over several days we finish our weapons while Rosalia stays in touch with her contacts and seeks information for us. Apparently there is a human lord in the city who is interested in meeting the “elvish princess”. I can’t possibly imagine that this will be an enjoyable facade to put on, but we do what we must.  

Day 29

In the morning, we receive a package of beautiful clothes from Dreah. She has made me some simple but fine clothing - the sort that one would expect for a low-level noble or a successful tradesperson. Hella is outfitted in proper apprentice robes indicating her status, but not specifically who she is apprenticed to. I imagine this is a wise bit of caution, and it should be obvious from context to anyone who knows what the clothes mean.   Similarly obvious are Bran’s clothes: Formal fatespinner robes with elvish runes at the borders. Not only do they identify his elvish magic, but they mark him as a trusted advisor. And Rosalia, now clad in the garb of a high-ranking personal sword-hand.   We leave Bran to continue with his smithing while the three women head out into the hills at Rosalia’s request. She’s heard rumours of a place that makes people feel uncomfortable.   After a few hours, we come to a clearing amongst the trees. Overgrown cobblestone paths lead up to a raised platform of broken, carved stone and crumbling statues. A magic circle is carved into the platform, but it’s shallow and faded. I can barely make out the runes but it’s clearly in two languages: Elvish and...whatever language is carved into my arm, and whatever language was in the books that my apprentices were reading from.   It all feels like some blasted mystery that I’m not yet able to solve. I can barely read the faded carvings, only the strongest words remain. They’re anchor points...the most powerful words that anchor the rest of whatever magic was here.   There are three concentric rings and from outer to inner they speak of the seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, of the solstices and equinoxes. Then of time, of acceleration and movement. Then, duty, obligation, vengeance, and justice. And finally a single phrase with two meanings: “And so the oath is made” or “And so the bargain is struck,'' depending on how you interpret it.   Some part of the other language matches a carving on my arm. I scrawl the entire carving into my book. Perhaps in time I can interpret the rest of my runes.   I ask Hella to reflect on human mythology of seasons and as she does, her eyes begin to glow. She looks like Bran when he spins, with her glowing eyes and absent gaze, she walks around the circle and traces the runes with her fingertips. There is a trial of magic beneath her fingers where once the runes were faded, and a massive illusion falls into place around the ruined statuary.   We are standing in a primal temple surrounded by four pairs of statues: Four elves and four...non-elves. They have four arms, like the Empress’ many arms of night. Each pair is aligned with a season and each carries what is clearly a powerful magical item.

• Summer warriors, wielding a large axe and a light blade
• Spring singers, carrying a flute and a harp
• Winter witches, holding a staff and a wand
• Autumn hunters, bearing a bow and spear

  They clasp hands and then the illusion shatters and Hella crumples. There is still magic in the air, but it doesn’t feel friendly. I can feel the magic flow from Hella into me and into my arm. I have only a dim awareness of eight distant voices that I can’t quite hear. For just a moment, Hella’s eyes are black pools and I can feel the magic take control of her. After she recovers, she speaks to me in elvish,   “It told me ‘The last thing at the end of responsibility is to find the new owner of oath and obligation and pass responsibility to appropriate hands. Natural order must be protected...corrupting hearts...price of heartsblood’”   She says her vision seemed like it took place over 1000 years ago, but it still feels important even now. Then, another language comes from her - melodic with hard stops. Perhaps the language of these four-armed beings. She reads the glyphs in this language as well, and they speak of promises, prices, binding, and choices.   Before we leave, Hella leaves a flower at the altar, and I add a seed, a dead leaf, and a shard of ice. It feels like the forest relaxes at the offering, and we make our way back to Ipth without hassle.