Timeline: Present
Location: En Route to the Azmar Luminary Institute, neutral kingdom of Azmar, Aethelgard
Vivian put her head down on the seat opposite Callum. He covered her with the blanket her attendants had packed for her. Then she said, "Cal? Can you give me your clothes?"
Callum's eyes went wide and he put the back of his hand to his mouth. "This is not really the place..."
Vivian waved her hand as if erasing what he was saying. "I am not asking you to get naked. I want something that I can run in. I have to get this body in better shape."
Callum blushed. "Yes, let me go fetch something. But…" Callum prefaced with a stern warning. "YOU. CANNOT. LEAVE. THIS. POD. Got it?"
Vivian lazily replied, "Yes, Dad." And Vivian had, once again, completely stunned Cal. He considered asking her why she now thought he was her father, but knew he would never understand her explanation.
Instead, he looked through one of the crates with a cryptogram. The small symbol, meant to hide the procession of the royal caravan, was carved into a corner of each crate with the position to indicate what the crate contained. The carving resembled a frayed knot or lightning bolt that looked like it may have been scratched in during transportation. In truth, it was a section of Eldoria's Veridian Heartwood emblem — created by branding each crate for consistency then using the brand as a guide for the carving. The final effect made it look rustic and accidental.
Callum eventually found what he was looking for and grabbed a tunic and plant-leather pants. Then from another trunk, he pulled out a belt and some boots, his inner monologue verbose while he looked through some of the trunks.
I hope she can cinch all of this together. But these boots... maybe she has a trick to make them smaller from her world.? Her world has some strange sayings. What does it mean when a person is 'extremely hot'? Should I ask her what she means tomorrow? She might not even remember? But I also want to see the look on her face when she does.
Callum grinned as he opened the pod door to find Vivian already asleep. He looked down at her and moved a strand of hair that had fallen onto her face in a silent acknowledgement that Vivian and Callum had also known each other for many years. He whispered, "I can do this much, right?"
Callum put the clothes next to her sleeping form, lingering for another moment to make sure she wasn't having a bad dream. Then he left, gently closing the door and activating a barrier encasing it.
How are they so different that I do not even see my old friend Ally, even though I know it is her face.
Callum looked at the ground. If she is here for too long, others are going to notice, too. Maybe I can give her some training on how to be Ally. Would she want that?
Kel appeared behind Callum and they walked back to the campground. "Is everything okay, Sylvan Heir," Kel asked.
"Add another sentry in the rotation for her pod at night when we camp. And uhm… grab Aart. I need to tell you both something about Lady Ally."
Kel nodded and they walked back together. "She does seem a bit... not herself. I would say she is nervous about her first mission as an envoy, but I have never seen her nervous about anything."
Callum walked back to their campfire with a somber expression on his face. "My prince," Kel offered. "You should not shoulder these burdens alone. Whatever is troubling you, we can face it together."
Callum nodded, a faint, tired smile touching his lips. He looked out into the vast, dark woods, the flickering firelight casting long, dancing shadows. "Thank you, Kel. You and your men are the finest Eldoria has to offer. I am just... worried about what is ahead."
Kel beckoned Aart to join them in an area separated from the others. Kel made an enclosure of wind to hide their voices to anyone outside of Callum, Kel and Art.
"I know you will keep this a secret between us, but I am going to need a little help." Callum paused and drew in deep breath. "I should start with this: Ally is not actually Ally, right now. She is a woman named Vivian." Callum searched both of their faces for a reaction, but their faces remained expressionless and would remain so until the prince requested a response. This was how they had been trained.
"Ever since we were children, Ally would somehow switch her consciousness with a woman from another world named Vivian. Other than her behavior and odd expressions of her speech, there is another way to tell. When her eyes are green, she is Vivian. When her eyes are red, she is Ally."
Kel and Aart were still expressionless, so Callum continued. "You know how Ally is naturally gifted as a very powerful mage and even accidentally burned down an entire village the night that her parents were killed. Well, Viv comes from a world that has no magic. And what is more, she does not know how to use Ally's magic when she is in Ally's body."
Aart's eyes widened almost imperceptibly before returning to a neutral expression. Callum went on with his explanation. "But, despite that, in her world, Viv is very brave and rushes into dangerous situations to help others. However, when she is Ally, she still does it automatically putting herself and Ally's body in danger."
Callum finally got to his request. "So I need you to help me keep a watchful eye over her and prevent her from putting herself in danger. You have my permission to go so far as to restrain her if necessary—but only when she has green eyes. If she has the red eyes of Ally, Ally may 'accidentally' set you ablaze."
Both Kel and Aart finally moved in a synchronized nod of agreement and Callum was about to wrap up his explanation when he looked directly at Kel. "And one more thing. Viv will no longer participate in the Ceremony of the Fallen. In fact, someone will need to block the sounds of the ceremony from reaching her. And no one is to go near her until the ceremony is over and I am sure she has not been affected. And I mean, absolutely. No. One." Callum emphasized the last part, looking at each of them alternatively.
Kel and Aart responded in unison, "Yes, Sylvan Heir."
Callum gave a rare, slight bow in acknowledgement and respect. Kel took down his sound barrier of wind and placed a reassuring hand on Callum's shoulder. "We will be ready. We always are."
But their shared moment of quiet camaraderie was abruptly shattered. The air, which had been still and cool, grew thick with a sudden, cloying warmth. The campfire, which had been crackling merrily, sputtered and dimmed, its light shrinking to a faint, orange glow. The vibrant green of the Veridian Heartwoods in their camp seemed to flicker erratically as the leaves rustled with an unnatural, frantic energy instead of the steady soft glow. A collective motion spread through the Barklars as they all instinctively reached for their swords.
"What is that?" Aart whispered, his hand on the hilt of his weapon, his eyes wide and searching.
Callum, his protective instincts on high alert, his gaze sweeping the treeline, felt a prickle of cold fear down his spine. The magic around them, which was usually a soft, humming presence, had become a chaotic, twisting thing. It was like a chorus of voices, all singing out of tune, creating a discordant, painful cacophony in his mind.
The silence of the forest broke. A high-pitched screech tore through the canopy, followed by the heavy crash of underbrush snapping under immense weight.
"Defensive positions!" Callum shouted, drawing his sword. A steady, white light ignited along the blade, casting long shadows against the trees. "It is a Sepulcher!"
The beast burst into the clearing. It was a nightmare of bone and shadow, its ribcage glowing with a sickly, pale green light. The creature skittered, its movements jerky and unnatural.
"Protect the Lady Alura!" Kel roared, positioning himself between the beast and the carriage. "Keep it back!"
The Sepulcher bypassed the guards. Steel and light-magic meant nothing to it. Its eyeless head snapped directly toward the carriage, sensing the magic dormant inside the sleeping girl—a beacon in the dark woods.
Callum intercepted the beast, slashing at its flank.
The Sepulcher swatted Callum aside with a force that sent him skidding across the dirt. Maintaining its momentum, it scrambled up the side of the carriage, its claws tearing through the barrier and then wood.
Inside, Vivian remained motionless. She lay curled under a fur blanket, deep in slumber. The beast reached through the splintered opening, its jaws unhinged. It lunged for the sleeping girl, eager to feast on the dense energy radiating from her skin.
Its claw brushed her arm.
The contact was silent.
The moment the beast touched her, a pale green light in its ribcage streamed out like smoke into a vacuum. It flowed directly into Vivian's sleeping form, disappearing into her skin without a trace.
The beast shrieked—a sound of absolute terror that cut short as the structural integrity of its form failed. The effect raced up the skeletal limb, consuming the creature from the inside out. Its massive bulk on the roof collapsed and dissolved into a cascade of dry, brittle bones and grey dust that slid off the carriage roof and piled onto the forest floor.
A fine layer of ash drifted through the hole in the roof, settling on the sleeping girl. Vivian shifted, murmuring something unintelligible, but she remained unconscious.
Silence reclaimed the camp.
Callum scrambled to his feet, rushing to the carriage door. He stared at the heap of bones next to the sleeping Vivian, then at her peaceful face.
"Is she...?" Kel trailed off, staring at the dust.
"She is asleep," Callum whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief. He checked her arm where the beast had touched her. The skin was flawless. "She slept through the entire attack."
"The creature touched her and turned to dust," Kel said, sheathing his sword. "They feed on condensed energy. Her reserves must be so high that they act as a passive shield. The beast tried to feed and burned itself out on her energy."
Callum frowned, looking at the grey dust. The remains resembled ancient decay rather than fire damage. "Perhaps. It is fortunate she remained asleep. She needs the rest."
He took a deep breath and walked to the pod door. The shield, its purpose fulfilled, faded away. He yanked the door open, his heart pounding with a different kind of fear. The fear that she was gone.
But she wasn't. She stirred, her eyes barely opened, her face still peaceful with a faint look of a content smile on her lips. She yawned, stretching languidly, a sound of soft, satisfaction escaping her lips. "I had the most wonderful nap," she murmured, her green eyes still hazy with sleep meeting him. "Did I miss something, Cal?"
She failed to notice the cracked roof of the pod (or anything else) and stepped out of the pod, her body still in the afterglow of the sounds of the cups resonance. Her nose wrinkled at the scents of smoke, blood, and earth that filled the air. Her boots crunched on something hard and metallic that had been thrown from the struggle.
She looked around in stunned silence. The campsite, once a place of quiet camaraderie, was a scene of a horrific battle. The glow of the pod was a dying flicker, its light swallowed by the shadows of the ravaged woods. Tents were torn, bedrolls were scattered, and the earth was a mess of torn-up tree roots and deep claw marks. Her gaze swept over the Barklars, who were tending to their wounds. Their armor was dented and scarred, their faces pale and streaked with dirt and blood. A Barklar named Fendril was being bandaged around his arm to control the bleeding from a deep gash. Even Kel, standing over a massive mound of dust, had a nasty cut on his cheek.
She looked at Callum, his face streaked with dirt and sweat, his silver hair a messy halo in the dim light. He also had a deep cut on his arm, and his chest was heaving with a mix of exhaustion and relief. His purple eyes, usually so calm, were wide and full of a profound sadness. She looked at him cautiously and then at the scene around them.
"Uhm…Cal?" she whispered, her voice barely a sound. "What happened?"
He walked toward her, his movements slow and weary. "Something came for you, Vivian," he said, his voice a low, tired murmur. "And we fought it off."
Her fear had been confirmed. She looked back at the Barklars being treated. Those Barklars, who were just telling stories a few hours before, now looked so exhausted and battle worn. She looked back at Callum, whose purple eyes still held a slight glow, now reflecting the guilt she felt.
Then she was told that the creature was fixed on reaching the pod. Fixed on reaching her. A cold knot of fear tightened in her stomach. It had come for her. All of them had been in danger because of her. She felt sick, her stomach churning, the peaceful feeling of her magnificent dream suddenly a bitter, nauseating memory.
She knew all too well the cost of a fight, the pain, the exhaustion, the loss. She had always fought beside her team. But here, she had been asleep. She had been the burden, the very thing she had sworn to never be. A firefighter runs into danger, not away from it. And, she had to rely on a few Barklars, who were not all trained to be on the front lines, and her friend who was also exhausted from his efforts to protect her. A hot, angry tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek, a bitter, silent testament to the guilt that now weighed her down. She could not rely on others for her own defense. She had to learn to fight for herself.
"I need to learn magic," she said, her voice quiet but firm, her green eyes now blazing with a fierce, quiet resolve. "Cal, please teach me."
He looked at her with a faint weary smile on his lips. "I know, Viv. I know." He gestured toward Kel, who was tending to a Barklar's wound. "I think you have a lot more to learn than just magic."
Vivian nodded, and then looked back at Callum. The full moons were still visible over the heartwood canopy and cast a silvery glow on the trees. The Barklar's morale seemed to be returning with each moment of safety, but they were still on high alert. The fire in the campfire had been built up again, but no one was sitting around it anymore.
She examined the large pile of gray dust that was not there when they set up camp. Vivian later found out that dust was previously the Sepulcher Excavator. It was not native to Eldoria, rather, it came from the Shadowed Highlands of Umbra. When they showed an illustration to her, she thought it looked like a grotesque, six-legged insect with a rocky hide and digging claws.
"We should start the preparations for us to leave, in case something else shows up," Callum said in a tired voice. "Pushing on without any sleep will weigh down on the caravan. But we are only a few days from the port. We should try to get there quickly."
Vivian nodded again, guiltily.
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From a high branch of a towering gloomshade canopy at the edge of the clearing, a dark, slender figure, cloaked in shadows that seemed to deepen around it, watched. Its eyes, sharp and intelligent, missed nothing. It had observed the chaotic, uncontrolled burst of energy that had drawn the excavator, the furious, desperate defense of the Eldorian Barklars, the reaction of the prince, and the creature's eventual defeat.
But more than that, it heard the prince, with a soft, affectionate tone, call the girl by a name that was not Lady Alura. It was a detail that did not make sense to them. A detail that would not be forgotten. The figure shifted, melting back into the gloom, a new puzzle piece to be analyzed and understood, a new and fascinating variable: Who was Vivian?
Yet, as instructed, they only noted the lack of fire, the gray dust, and the girl's unbroken slumber. The test was successful. The Void was awakening.
Everything else would be its own secret.
For now.