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A Thousand Year Voyage (Elden Ring-ASOIAF) by pemmil
A Song of Ice and Fire & Elden Ring Xover Rated: T, English, Humor & Adventure, Words: 203k+, Favs: 754, Follows: 951, Published: Jul 15, 2024 Updated: Sep 5
365Chapter 2: First impressions
The High Tower, radiant jewel of Oldtown, was the oldest and largest structure in all of Westeros, containing within its stone walls the secrets of the ages long gone. Its majestic silhouette rose proudly over Oldtown from time immemorial like a sentinel of time, whose presence was a constant reminder of the past days of glory, when the world was still young.
The labyrinthine square fortress of unadorned black stone laid at the tower's foundation, containing gloomy halls, vaults, and chambers whose original purpose has long since been forgotten. Legends said that this stone, serving as the bedrock of the mighty fortress, was sculpted by the Deep Ones, a mythical race created by the breeding of sea creatures with humans, servants of the Drowned God worshipped by the Ironborn.
For it was probably no coincidence that the same material was used to carve the Seastone Chair, the throne of the Ironborn islands. The truth, however, was hidden by the depths of the sea, which were unwilling to share their secrets.
The tower itself endlessly feathered towards the sky, its subsequent floors moving ever closer to the domain of the gods themselves. The monolith was the largest structure in the entire known world, surpassing even the wall erected by Bran the Builder in the far north. The people of Oldtown, accustomed to the presence of the giant and using it to tell the time of the day by looking at its shadow, even claimed that the Wall could be seen from its top.
At its very summit, where the High Tower touched the heavens, there was a massive beacon, for centuries used to guide ships into port. The colour of the beacon's fire was changeable, with green flame being used to call House Hightower's banners on more than one occasion. According to legends, Oldtown was the place where refugees fled from the Long Night, guided by the High Tower fire, its glow visible even in the blizzards of eternal winter. It was said that this was where the Hightower motto 'We guide the way' came from. For the last ten thousand years, the oldest house of Westeros has served as guides to the people, showing them the right way through the ice and fire.
The High Tower is not only an architectural marvel unmatched by anything else in the world, but also the mystical heart of Oldtown, full of legends and stories that were still waiting to be discovered by those brave enough to seek the truth in the shadows of the ancient walls.
It was proof that, despite the claims of the maesters, magic had not vanished from this world, but merely remained dormant, simply waiting for someone to awaken it. This someone had just appeared in Oldtown, their presence clear to anyone who could see.
And Leyton Hightower, head of House Hightower and lord of Oldtown, certainly could see. Far better than most.
The ancient halls erupted with the sounds of activity as the lord and his entourage were hastily making their way through the labyrinthine corridors to meet the captain of a mysterious ship that had visited their shores. After having a quick conversation with Moryn Tyrell, the man agreed to meet in the High Tower in order to discuss an 'unpleasant incident' that had taken place in Oldtown harbour and reach, in his words, an amicable resolution. The very fact that he had decided to do so, instead of simply entering the town and razing it to the ground with whatever powerful artifacts there were hidden in the mythical ship, had filled Leyton with hope.
After all, if he was so agreeable when it came to mundane matters, then maybe... maybe this attitude would also manifest itself when it came to more... esoteric matters.
This thought filled Leyton with excitement, his steps involuntarily quickening out of sheer glee at the prospect of the amazing possibilities this meeting could potentially bring. He was so elated by this idea that it took him a moment to finally register the sensation of someone patting him on the shoulder in an increasingly impatient manner. Snapped out of his reverie, Leyton turned his head in surprise, only to see his eldest daughter, Malora, who was struggling to keep up with him, the first drops of sweat already forming on her forehead.
When the man finally did slow his footsteps, realising with some embarrassment that because of his excitement he had begun to leave his retinue behind, his daughter finally spoke, her expression bemused.
"I think you should calm yourself a bit, father." the girl said, her voice wavering somewhere between amusement and irritation. Taking the opportunity afforded by her father's pause, she arranged her blonde hair, dishevelled from chasing him, into something more presentable, then continued speaking "Believe me I understand your impatience, as I feel it myself too. After all, so much depends on this visit. But that is precisely why we should be all the more attentive. After all, it is not appropriate for us to receive such distinguished guests winded and tired, is it? After all, we want them to take us as seriously as possible."
Her words were certainly sensible, as was often the case when it came to his precious girl, but at the same time...
"How could I calm down, Malora? Do you not understand what an opportunity we have been presented with? Aracane lore from beyond the seas! Ancient spells from the days long past! All of it could be ours if we just...!" Leyton replied despotently, giving his daughter a reproachful look. After all, she should be the one who understood what chance stood before them the most. Unfortunately, his daughter's gaze did not stop despite his response, her posture impassive. Knowing he wouldn't win this battle, the man sadly nodded his head, acknowledging the wisdom in his daughter's words. "...But you are right. Yes...yes, it is important that we make a good impression. The magical secrets we can learn if we handle it right..."
Despite his excitement, Leyton did not miss the disgusted glances his retainers threw his way upon hearing his words. The man was already used to these glances. Both he and his daughter had had to deal with them ever since they had begun to explore the less than mundane secrets hidden in the tower, their work always looked at with suspicion.
Sheep, the whole lot of them. What was the point of trying to convince complacent dimwits who blindly embraced accepted dogma and ignored anything that didn't fit into their limited image of the world?
He could somewhat understand the servants of the tower and the knights who served him. Most of them were simple people, incapable of grasping the greater truth due to their limited horizons. It was annoying, but at least understandable. But the maesters? Scholars trained in the greatest place of knowledge in the whole known world, who studied and shaped the rules governing the world? Their ignorance he could not tolerate. In his life, Leyton had only met a few maesters who even attempted to look at magic with an open mind, their number countable on the fingers of one hand. The rest of the maesters were simply a bunch of pompous buffoons, willingly ignorant of the higher mysteries, insistently repeating that magic had long since disappeared from this world, never to return.
Well, they will not be able to do that for long. The recent arrival of the outsider changed everything.
Leyton knew this from the moment the mysterious ship entered Oldtown. For at that moment, the glass candle, previously standing in his study and gathering dust, flared with a bright, many-coloured light, seemingly responding to the presence of the stranger. How much time had Leyton spent in unsuccessful attempts to activate the device, how many manuscripts had he read, how many useless rituals had he performed in the dark with Malora, foolishly hoping to awaken the artefact?
Too much.
But this stranger, visitor from beyond the sea... his very presence made the glass candle shine with its former brilliance. It was a sign, from the gods or from magic itself, it didn't matter. He had to speak to the newcomer and beg him to teach him as much as he could about the most guarded secrets of magic. Nothing else mattered in comparison.
It was with this attitude that Leyton stepped in front of the hall where he was to meet the newcomer. Without even waiting for a servant, he made his way to the door and, with some effort, swung open the heavy ebony doors himself. Then, with no hesitation, he marched inside, ready to meet his destiny.
The sight that welcomed him upon crossing the threshold seemed to be plucked straight from legends of ancient empires and great heroes, from a time when the world was young and magic was thriving.
Three people were gathered in the richly decorated chamber, which had served the Hightower family to receive important guests since time immemorial. Although the chamber was not inferior to even the most illustrious chambers used by the Targaryen kings and queens, it seemed almost lacklustre compared to esteemed guests that were now present there.
The first was a man of medium height, dressed in an exquisite, though now visibly aged robe of onyx black. The man wore an elaborate mask of unidentified material, shaped in a way that was giving him the appearance of a quiet, wise, old bearded man. While the less wary might have disregarded the man, foolishly perceiving him as a frail elder, the experience Leyton had acquired over his long years as both a lord and a mystic told him a different story. In the man's steely gaze, almost hidden beneath the mask he wore, was a discipline and power that Leyton had rarely seen. The man stood straight as an arrow, his stature closer to that of a beast lurking for prey than an old sage supporting counsel. It was clear that the man was not to be underestimated, as it would only lead to suffering and regret.
Unlike the man, whose danger seemed to lurk just beneath the surface, hidden under the deceptively frail form, the other guest seemed to outright radiate it, pure strength seeming to flow directly from every part of the figure's body. The woman, though it was hard to be sure given her appearance, was dressed from head to toe in faded, ritualistic red-colored robes, most likely of symbolic significance. The woman's skin, gray and gnarled, looked not entirely unlike those affected by greyscale. Her state didn't seem to hinder her, however, as she was standing confidently, no sign of weakness visible in her form. Her face was covered by an intricate mask - after all, it couldn't have been her actual face - stylized in the likeness of a red dragon. The mask was elaborate and full of details, almost making Leyton believe that a real dragon in human form stood before him.
Both the man and the woman were standing patiently behind the back of the last member of the group, who was currently seated comfortably in a stone chair at the end of the chamber and watching Leyton in silence, as if peering into his very soul.
The leader of the group, as it was clear from the attitudes of the other two that they were subservient to him, looked to be a man in his prime, no older than thirty. He was dressed in imposing and elegant plate armor, remarkable in its detailed workmanship and majestic appearance. The shiny breastplate and gauntlets were covered with rich ornamentation, and the epaulettes were styled to resemble fur flowing down the man's shoulders. A long fur cloak of a gray, almost ashen color hung from the man's back. It was obvious that this armor was well beyond the skill of even the most gifted smiths in Westeros and worth more than many kingdoms.
The man's face, while not as impressive as the armor, was also striking. The man had dark, neck-length hair, neatly styled back and gently shining in the rays of the sun. The meticulously trimmed beard he possessed emphasized the sharpness of his facial features, giving him a somewhat austere yet elegant appearance. Most surprising, however, were his eyes - dark and deep, they carried the wisdom and experience of countless years, making the man appear much older than his appearance would suggest.
All in all, the three of them seemed like they had been plucked straight out of bards' grandiose tales, stories about magical knights and strange wizards from unknown lands. What made the newcomers different from those tales, however, was that they were real. These visitors really did come from undiscovered lands, bringing knowledge and power beyond the wildest dreams. All that was necessary was a daring individual with the courage to reach for them.
Leyton's face lit up in a smile. Without taking his eyes off the group's leader, he made a shallow bow, putting all his experience as a nobleman into it.
"Oldtown welcomes you, my honored guests. My name is Leytown Hightower and I am the lord of these lands," Leyton declared "I am pleased to meet you."
The secrets of the universe would soon be within his grasp.
Hadwyn looked at the arriving nobleman with some degree of interest.
Based purely on first impressions, Leyton Hightower seemed no different from any other nobleman he had met on his journey. Like Kenneth Haight, Lord of Oldtown had the distinctive presence that characterised people of high society, stemming from both his bearing and somewhat extravagant attire, consisting of a carefully chosen grey robe and matching orange cloak. This did not mean that there was anything inherently wrong with that, as Hadwyn was aware of the role nobles played in any functioning society, but it certainly gave an inkling of what to expect from the man.
At the same time, however, Hadwyn could sense some sort of underlying desire oozing from the man, his honed instincts whispering about this man having some sort of hidden agenda. He didn't know what this agenda was, but the wild gleam in the man's eye meant that one should probably tread with some caution.
Then again, perhaps he was overreacting. While there was a chance that Lord Hightower was a frenzied fire cultist or a member of some assassin's organisation, it was far more likely that the agenda he sensed from him was more innocent, concerning, for example, a desire to take advantage of the opportunities offered by the arrival of the Wisdom of the Moon in his port. After all, from what he had been able to discern from his journey through the city, Oldtown seemed to be a small coastal town with few prospects. A ship from a foreign land could be seen as an incredible opportunity, allowing the lord to boost the town's economy and acquire any new goods, sorcery and knowledge that traders from distant lands might have accumulated.
So until he had more information, he should not pass judgement on the intentions of the Lord in question.
Following Leyton Hightower, lord's entourage also entered the chamber and swiftly assumed their respective positions, ready to serve their ruler should the possibility arise. A quick glance at them did not suggest anything of significance, that would require more attention to be paid to them.
The only ones whom Hadwyn's gaze involuntarily registered in the gathered crowd were Moryn Tyrell, the city guard commander whom he had already had the opportunity to meet in the harbour, and a young girl standing next to lord Hightower, her dress and looks suggesting relation to the noble. Interestingly, a certain amount of pressure could be sensed from her as well, though thankfully it was less intense than in Lord Hightower's case.
"It is an honour to meet you as well, Lord Hightower." Knowing that the other party expected an appropriate response, Hadwyn replied with a bow parallel to the one given by the foreign lord. "My name is Hadwyn, captain of the Wisdom of the Moon, and these are my companions, Sir Ainsbach of the pureblood knights and Florissax, a dragon communion priestess."
Hearing these words, Ainsbach himself offered a slight bow, worthy of his noble status (well, technically-a-noble status, as he was knighted by the raving, blood-obsessed madman in some cave), but Florissax did not react in any way to the invocation, not even changing her previously adopted position. This was not surprising, of course, as Florissax, as an eternal, dragon-like entity, wasn't really that interested in superficial human customs. It was actually a small wonder that she was here at all, but Hadwyn certainly wouldn't complain. Having an ancient dragon on your side was always handy.
'I see. All these titles sound grand indeed..." Lord Hightower fidgeted slightly upon considering Hadwyn's words, his face twisted into a slight frown. After pondering something for a few seconds, he asked a question that seemed to trouble him. "Please forgive me, but could you tell me why you are only giving me your first name? It is difficult for me to imagine that a person so powerful and in command of such a sizable force would not belong to some illustrious lineage."
Ah, so that's what was troubling Lord Hightower. Nobles and their silly lineages. Hadwyn could never understand their obsession with status and pedigrees. Your ancestors are important...until suddenly they're not. A bloodthirsty barbarian or a local champion appearing out of nowhere suddenly turns out to be a great candidate for the throne, surpassing even the most illustrious noble, only because they can break a troll in half with their own hands.
It was very arbitrary, in his own humble opinion.
"Well, if I had to provide a name, it would be Hadwyn Caria. After all, I am technically part of the Carian royal family..." Hadwyn awkwardly scratched his head, not feeling very confident with the indicated title. It sounded too grand to his liking. Technically the title of Elden Lord title was even more grand, but at least it didn't include any annoying, social undertones. "But, well, it is not really my name. I just got it through marriage to my wife. My own blood is about as common as it gets. I hope it won't be a problem?"
Surprisingly, upon looking at Leyton, he saw no sign of the disdain he half-expected to see. The news seemed to actually please the nobleman, his smile a tad bigger than before. The members of his retinue seemed to have a slightly different opinion, as evidenced by the hushed whispers coming from their direction at the news of the newcomer's middling background, but Leyton himself seemed to ignore them, his attention completely focused on Hadwyn.
"No, no. It's certainly surprising, but I also have to admit that it makes everything about you even more impressive" the man replied, gently shaking his head. "After all, it almost sounds like one of the stories sung by minstrels, doesn't it? A man who started with nothing, but thanks to hard work he married a princess and became the captain of a majestic ship, sailing the seas." Although his voice sounded casual, it was clear that he was going somewhere with his words. The man then paused for a moment, a strange gleam appearing in his eye. "However, since we're talking about this magnificent ship under your command..."
Damn it, so that was his plan. Hadwyn sighed quietly, aware that this topic had to come eventually. He hoped to avoid it for as long as possible, but Lord Oldtown seemed to have other plans, immediately mentioning the rune bear in the room.
"...Once again I want to apologize for any problems me and my crew may have caused you. As I told Sir Tyrell..." Hadwyn then nodded to the said man, who looked at him with feigned calm, clearly trying to pretend he was no longer bothered by the incident. The tense shoulders and the fire smoldering in his dark eyes told Hadwyn otherwise however, making it clear what the city guard commander actually thought about the whole affair. "...We are, of course, ready to repair all damages related to the incident and cover any losses we may have caused. I hope it will be sufficient."
"Ah, you need not trouble yourself, Sir Hadwyn. Your offer is by itself more than sufficient for us to let go of any resentment that yesterday's incident may have caused." Sir Tyrell seemed to have a different opinion, based on the sour look on his face, but if Lord Hightower noticed it, he didn't let it show. After uttering these words, however, some sort of sly expression appeared on the lord's face, a glint in his eye suggesting that he was planning some sort of manipulation or scam known only to himself. "If...if, you still felt a pang of guilt, however...Perhaps we could come to some other agreement. I'm sure you've encountered plenty of items and knowledge in your travels that you wouldn't be able to find anywhere else. You must know that Oldtown is known throughout Westeros as a center of science and trade, so if you are inclined to share some of these discoveries and goods, I'm sure we would be able to compensate you handsomely."
Though it was evident from the look on the lord's face that he likely perceived his actions as some sort of manipulation, designed to maneuver him into initiating trade relations with the city, Hadwyn found himself somewhat relieved after hearing those words. Originally he had suspected more sinister motives lurking behind the lord's attitude, possibly something related to traces of the lesser dragons' presence in the surrounding lands sensed by Florissax, but it turned out that the truth was far more innocent than one might have assumed.
Lord Hightower had simply sniffed out an opportunity presented by the appearance of Wisdom of the Moon and wanted to acquire some goods and sorcery from the Lands Between. This was not about any grand conspiracy or impending doom, but about a simple human greed and a desire to improve one's standing.
After everything Hadwyn had been through in his long life, such ambitions seemed almost...
Cute.
"So you wish to make some kind of trade deal with me, I take it? There will be no problem with that, naturally. I am confident that my people will be interested in exchanging goods and magic theory with the citizens of Oldtown." Hadwyn stated confidently, his words provoking a gasp of shock from the locals. Could it be that they didn't expect him to agree to trading with them so easily? It's not as if it would incur any loss on Hadwyn's part. If the goods available in Oldtown didn't represent any worth, the ship's merchants simply wouldn't make any deals. It was that simple. "I suppose that normally such an exchange would take place at your harbor, but...well, you know. Would it be acceptable for us to move the ship out of the city? We would settle somewhere close and prepare ourselves there
Of course, during this time we will send an appropriate team to repair the port. Also, I'm sure some of our wizards will be willing to visit your scholars for more academic purposes during this time."
",,,eeeh? What? ...That's...Y-yes, that would be of course acceptable. Your people are more than welcome to settle on a coast just west of the city. We will begin the necessary preparations immediately," Lord Hightower stated weakly, his posture suddenly deflating from previous tense excitement. In contrast to his earlier state, his elated expression melted into a conflicted one, various emotions dancing on the nobleman's face, This state seemed to be shared by most of his retinue, as most of them were gaping at Hadwyn openly, seemingly unable to comprehend the new development.
Hadwyn didn't quite know the reason for this sudden change of attitude, especially when it came to Leyton Hightower.
Wasn't it the outcome he had wanted all along?
The young Ranni, led by her mother's hand, walked silently through a hidden valley, a place that only a few knew even existed. The area was shrouded in a thick fog that seemed to absorb all light, causing the surroundings to be perpetually plunged into twilight. The journey passed in silence, neither Ranni nor her mother uttering a single word since entering this mysterious place.
After what seemed like an infinity, the pair reached the edge of the valley, where the walls of uneven stone gave way to a night sky engulfed by mist. As if awaiting their arrival, this mist began to dissipate, revealing a starlit sky and its silent guardian, who guided sorceres since the dawn of time.
The dark moon. The celestial body that appeared before her eyes, dark and ominous beyond measure, cast a pale glow across the valley, illuminating everything in the vicinity. The sight was both beautiful and terrifying, sending Ranni into a deep reverie. The dark moon seemed to be covered in ancient runes, shining with a mysterious radiance. The girl couldn't take her eyes off it, the heavenly body drawing her to reach for the secrets hidden in the moonlight.
When she looked to her mother for advice, the woman, previously watching in silence, sent her an encouraging smile, as if inviting her to follow her heart.
Following her instincts, Ranni moved towards the light. fascinated by its beauty and power, she reached out to touch it. The moment her fingers made contact with the cold beam of moonlight...
"...Princess?" A familiar voice pulled her from her slumber, a vision from times gone unraveling under the assault of the waking world. Not receiving a response, the voice continued "Princess, are you awake?"
".. Yes, I am." Ranni replied quietly, her artificial eyelids fluttering to adjust her eyes to the morning light streaming into the room through the uncovered window. Glancing up at the person who had woken her, she saw Moongrum, a carian knight sworn to the royal family, who was looking at her with calm, patient gaze. Although he wore a traditional carian armour, his lack of a helmet allowed her to see his slender, bearded face and long brown hair. The knight seemed to be in no hurry, patiently waiting for Ranni to arrange her wooden body more comfortably on the chair she was resting on, as he had done many times in the past. When Ranni felt she was in the proper condition, she asked the knight a question. "Didst thou hath something to report, Moongrum?"
'Yes! Lord Haydyn has just obtained permission from a local noble to land a ship in a suitably designated area outside the city. Your loyal subjects are already beginning to spread out outside the ship, creating a temporary base." the knight replied dutifully. "I thought you might be interested in seeing the city in the light of day. We have already moved from the harbour, so the view should be pleasing."
"...Yes, I thank thee for thy consideration. Please taketh me to the deck." Ranni stated after a moment, finding the idea appealing. In response, Moongrum merely nodded and moved to the back of Ranni's chair, unlocking the wheels placed on it and pushing the chair forward at a leisurely pace. Unfortunately, such a form of travelling was necessary as, due to her unique condition, Ranni had difficulty in moving by herself. For this reason, she generally used her dear consort to move around the ship or, if he was absent, one of her sworn knights.
Some might have wondered why Ranni, a living god capable of reshaping the reality itself by using the elden ring inside her, did not recreate her original body, or at least render her replacement shell, a doll styled after her precious teacher, more durable and mobile. The reason was actually quite simple, if absurd to most.
Ranni refused to ever use the elden ring, no matter what.
While the creation of a new body may have sounded innocent enough, and in truth it was, Ranni knew that there was no such thing as 'just this once' when it came to the Elden Ring. She would then use it for something else again and again. always telling herself it was the last time, only to eventually become like Marika, changing the laws of the universe on the whim and reshaping the world to her liking.
No, she took a solemn oath before the dark moon, swearing that she would not interfere with the natural order of the world. She would merely be a conduit for the cosmic power, a seal to protect the elden ring from the manipulations of gods and men alike. Her destiny was to be the night watchman, serving in silence and ensuring that the world would live to see another tomorrow.
For in the age of the stars, there was to be no divine guidance, no salvation and no ascension. It was to be a time of uncertainty, fear and loneliness...but also of discovery, understanding and self-determination. Mortals would stumble and suffer under her order, as they had before, but that suffering would come from their choices, not from the whims of a capricious god pulling the strings.
That...was the wisdom of the Moon.
As Ranni and Moongrum were making their way up to the deck, a frenzy of activity could be seen all around them. People of all races were scrambling around the ship, dashing in all directions and carrying various materials from place to place. The word of the new land seemed to have caused a general excitement among the ship's population, as numerous stores, clinics, dwellings and temples scattered all over the ship were emptying at incredible pace, their inhabitants rushing outside to explore the new frontier and interact with the locals.
As the pair passed them, many of the inhabitants stopped to give Ranni respectful bows, their faces contorting into expressions of reverence at the opportunity to see their 'god'. Out of the corner of her eye, Ranni could even see children and adults alike offering silent prayers in her direction, as if hoping they would accomplish something.
Rannii didn't care about these displays of worship, or the adoration the ship's inhabitants had for her. While they were formally her subjects, choosing to join her and her dear consort on their journey, she did not plan to rule them or be the god they expected her to be. They were following her and Hadwyn of their own free will and could leave them at any time if they so desired.
Absorbed in her thoughts, Ranni didn't even notice that they had reached the ship's deck until the morning sun descended upon her like a warm blanket. The day seemed to be beautiful, with the sun shining brightly and the sky being almost clear, disturbed only by a few stray clouds. As she neared the edge of the deck, Ranni felt the sea breeze blowing against her wooden body and heard the distant sound of waves hitting the coast lazily.
When she lifted her gaze, her eyes revealed a skyline of the town they had travelled to, supposedly called Oldtown. From a distance, in the glow of the morning sun, Oldtown appeared as a small but lively town, signs of activity visible in the distant maze of streets and canals so different from the deserted metropolises of Lands Between. A modest tower rising above the surface of the sea, resembling a miniature version of the Divine Tower, towered over the town, covering entire districts in its gentle shadow. In the distance, there was also a stone building looming over the town, with misbegotten sculptures guarding the entrance to the building. She didn't know its purpose, but it looked quite picturesque.
The only thing that disturbed the pleasant view of this seaside town was the image of the devastated harbour, whose collision with the Wisdom of the Moon had cost it a massive scar running across almost half of its stone surface. Reminders of this unfortunate event were also fragments of wooden piers and ships that were now drifting on the water, filling almost the entire bay with debris. In the distance, guards and sailors were fiercely trying to solve the problem, fishing out the various remains floating around, but it didn't seem like they were going to resolve the issue any time soon.
Admittedly, Ranni felt a certain amount of shame at the damage caused, if only because she owned the ship responsible for it. However, this shame was fairly indirect and diluted, as Hadwyn, her consort, had been the one responsible for commanding the ship. It was therefore on him that the blame for the recent events rested.
A thought struck Ranni. Was this one of the reasons Marika had taken Godfrey and Father as consorts in the past? So that she wouldn't have to be ashamed every time some stupid mistake was made under her rule, passing all responsibility for 'human affairs' on to the elden lord?
It was a rather clever solution if that was the case.
As she pondered on these divine matters of great importance, she heard a melodious, intimately familiar tune coming from the side, well audible despite the noise filling the deck. Moving her eyes along the deck line, Ranni noticed a very familiar woman, currently spread out comfortably on the cushions beneath her in some distance.
The woman in question was unusually tall, reaching almost ten feet, with snow-white skin and combled, black hair. She was dressed in the refined, dark robe of the Raya Lucaria academy, and wore a golden, curved crown on her head.
She was Rennala, queen of the full moon, ruler of Liurnia and mother of Ranni.
She was a rennala, a tormented woman, whose mind had long since disappeared, consumed by suffering and loss.
The woman, like her daughter, was looking out at the town's skyline, yet her eyes were hazy and faded, making it difficult to tell if the town was even registering in her mind. There was a gentle smile on her lips as she softly stroked the amber egg in her hands, humming a painfully familiar lullaby to the object. For a moment, Ranni and Rennala's eyes met, but the woman did not seem to recognise her own daughter, soon breaking off her uninterested gaze to refocus on the glowing object she held in her hands.
Needless to say, Rennala was not on board alone. A giant wolf, matching the woman in height, was watching over her safety, his red fur glistening in the sun. He too was spread out comfortably on the cushions, surrounding the queen with his massive body and ensuring her safety, whether it came from outside or from the woman herself.
Some distance away from the pair, hiding in the shadows of one of the ship's tiers, stood a lone figure, their decorated mask and incredibly wide hat making them stand out from their surroundings. Ranni recognised the figure as prospector Miriam, one of the guardians of the royal family, whose job was to watch over the sovereign and her kin. Miriam was old now, having witnessed the wars between the Carians and Erdtree, as well as the growing up of Ranni and her brothers, but the strength and confidence from years of diligent service continued to shine through from the old woman.
Everything suggested that Miriam took her mother out of her room for some fresh air, deciding to take her to the deck of the ship. Red wolf obviously chose to accompany the queen, which was why all three of them were currently near Ranni. Realising that, Ranni sighed sadly and looked away, not wanting to spoil her mother's mood. After all, she needed as much rest as possible.
To shake off bad thoughts forming in her head, Ranni decided to lean out of her chair and look outside the ship, where countless figures from various races could be seen making their way ashore and preparing goods and stalls for the arrival of visitors from Oldtown. Among the crowds, one could see wizards presenting books of all sorts, crystallians arranging precious stones, jars displaying...Ranni didn't even want to know what. All in all, everyone seemed excited by the prospect of contact with the local population, their joy evident even from the ship.
Meanwhile, in the distance, it was possible to see a curious group of the ship's more sizable races, such as trolls, misbegotten and the larger kinds of jars, apparently gathering for some sort of excursion. Mighty marble pillars could be seen in the hands of the trolls, seemingly conjured by sorcerers nearby, while the misbegotten and jars were all equipped with various tools, such as huge pickaxes and magical drills.
"Art these the people the ones whom Hadwyn hath appointed to repair the harbour?" Ranni asked, looking at the unusual group with some interest, though it was mostly due to her desire to solve the problem they had caused as soon as possible.
"Yes, princess. If I am not mistaken, they should be leaving soon, according to the arrangements made with the city representatives. Lord Hadwyn insisted that they deal with the matter as soon as possible." Moongrum replied dutifully after glancing at the group in question.
As if in response to the knight's words, the said group set off towards the town. The trolls, jars and misbegotten began to walk ahead in even rows, each equipped with the necessary building materials or tools related to the planned construction. At their sides walked various sorcerers, ready to assist them in their work with spells. The whole group walked in a single rhythm, their steps sending tremors through the surrounding terrain,
Upon seeing this sight, Ranni had to admit that it looked rather impressive. One could even believe that the people heading into the town weren't builders going to a construction site, but an army of inhumans proudly marching on the city with improvised weapons in their hands...
"Moongrum?" Ranni asked quietly, her voice carefully neutral despite the very discomforting thoughts that suddenly appeared in her head. She knew what was most likely about to happen soon, and she preferred to be as far away as possible at that point. "Can thou taketh me back to the ship? I've suddenly grown weary."
"Certainly, Princess." Moongrum replied, once again grabbing a chair and leading the doll back inside the vessel. As they went under the deck, the distant sounds of bells and shouts of panic coming from Oldtown echoed across the coast to Ranni's ears, but she chose to ignore them, concentrating instead on choosing a book to be read upon returning to her room.
After all, she decided, it was her dear consort's responsibility to deal with the next problem they had unwittingly caused. That was what his role as elden lord entailed, wasn't it? To act as a link between the god and the mortals.
Yes, the longer she thought about it, the more sense it made. She would...delegate this task to her dear consort. Leave mortal affairs to mortals and all that.
Such was the wisdom of the moon...
Probably.
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