Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy Seven - 277
Felix led his team after the Farwalker and Wyvora. Harn had gathered the lot of them, and Vyne and Davum were still holding food in their hands as they walked.
"Can't we stay just a little longer?" Atar asked. "That play they put on, the sheer magical skill involved...Remarkable."
"You can go make eyes at the illusionist later," Alister said. "I saw her, back in one of the houses. Quite pretty."
"Burnin' gorgeous, for Henaari," Evie added, then in a quieter tone. "Too much forehead for me, though."
"Can we focus, please?" Vess asked brusquely. Felix looked back at her and her cheeks darkened slightly. "They may have feted us, but I still do not trust the Henaari's intentions. We must keep our wits about us."
"She ain't wrong," muttered Harn. "But all of us are in fightin' shape now. It'd be right stupid for them to attack us after goin' through the trouble of healin' us."
Felix held out a hand, low and insistent. "Caution isn't a bad idea. But let's not get too aggressive. The Farwalker, at least, seems to be willing to help." He smirked. "Plus, he can hear all of this."
"Indeed. I had just thought it rude to mention that," the Henaari wise man said.
Evie and Davum barked a laugh, the Orc looking a touch more drunk than the rest. Felix would have to watch out for that. They others seemed sober enough, but he questioned how much they'd all had to drink before switching to water. Only Harn had Vitality enough to burn through booze so quickly, and that's if they had been drinking the weak stuff.
"It's just ahead here," Wyvora said.
"Where are we going?" Felix asked as they traversed the many free-standing arches. They were near the center of the camp, but the pathways were winding and in slightly confusing ways. Felix could recall their path exactly, but that just meant he could get back to where they were before. If he had to run, he'd have to get above the rooftops, and then he'd be a sitting duck for any jerk to pepper with arrows or Skills. "Seems a long way to go for a talk."
"We go to the Clan Hall, dear guests," the Farwalker said. His wheelchair rattled against the bits of ancient flagstone that poked from the earth. "This conversation will involve more than just us, for better or worse. There is much you must know."
They came to a larger structure, around the same size as the pavilion they'd spent the day within, but built more along the lines of the structure they'd found in the outpost. A high, pitched roof that dropped all the way to the ground, while panels of carved designs flanked the large door clearly built for a taller people. Stairs lead up to the Clan Hall, but there were wide flat planes to either side of the steps, and Wyvora simply pushed the Farwalker up and onto the porch.
They've even designed their temporary housing with handicap accessible entrances? Felix was definitely impressed with their strange building magic. That they could create things so fastlike the stage for the shadow playit was remarkable. It felt a lot more complex than his Stone Shaping, which just moved around dirt and stone with earth Mana. The stage-builder was using at least three types of Mana, plus whatever techniques were required to make something so complex. Wooden beams, planks, even paper screens. Crazy.
When they walked through the doors and into the Clan Hall, Felix was struck by the similarity to the outpost. The majority of the space was open with seating around the edges, and on the far end was a Shrine to the Endless Raven. It's built exactly the same, as far as I can tell. He hadn't gone around taking measurements, but his memory suggested an identical construction. Maybe their building magic is more of a preset than spontaneous creation. I almost hope so. It'd make me feel better about my lack of imagination.
The Synod andunfortunatelythe Matriarch filed in through separate doors to the side, filling the seats at the edges of the Hall while Wyvora wheeled the Farwalker to the Shrine itself. Felix and his team lingered near the exit, stepping just at the edge of the wide-open central space.
"Felix Nevarre! We greet you in the manner of our ancient ancestors, with food, story, and song among the warm regard of our peoples. By Right of Wander, we welcome you," the Farwalker said without preamble.
"As the Raven wills," muttered the others in the room.
Felix looked at Vess, but she just nudged him forward. "Yeah, thank you," he said as he stepped into the center. "I'm glad we've been able to reach a peaceful resolution to our...rocky introductions." Felix felt the Synod's general air of agreement, Wyvora's detached amusement, and a sense of thready anger from the Matriarch. She sat in a chair near the Shrine, her outfit and hair impeccable with silver ornaments and robes of green and purple.
"You have earned a boon from us, and from myself twice over," said the Farwalker. There was some muttering at this, surprise and curiosity mainly. "And for the first boon, you have asked us for information on your foe. The one we call the Master of the Mountain Below." This time the murmurs were considerably more agitated. "But first, you will need information on before, and on our purpose here in these mountains."
The Farwalker wheeled himself to the front of the Shrine of the Endless Raven. There he reached up and touched the foot of the carved bird, wings spread in flight. "We have long had a presence in the Foglands. It was where I met my Companion and the ground lies thick with uncovered mystery. No less now that the fog has somehow lifted. But our return at this time is to seek out a specific person. The former Matriarch, gone into the Wilds by Right of Wander and never returned."
A'zek, across the way, shifted and settled his long barbed tail around his paws. Felix saw the harnoq looking intently at Pit, though why was lost on himthe chimera's Spirit was as occluded as the Farwalker's own. The Matriarch was also staring in their direction, her eyes switching between the Farwalker and Felix with a measured intensity.
"The Matriarchformer Matriarch, that is," the Farwalker corrected himself smoothly and Felix saw the woman's face darken in anger the same time he felt her Spirit boil. "The former Matriarch had set out to uncover a secret so powerful it would change much for our people. An ancient discovery, one long buried by the Golden Empire."
"I buried it. Her, I suppose." Felix lowered the blade. "I didn't really know what sort of rites you may use, but I buried her in a copse of trees, near a beautiful lake. And I found her killer," he added. The Raven had confirmed that for him at least. "I tracked them down and killed them as well."
Echoes of approval swept through the assembled Spirits, aside from the Farwalker and Matriarch. He was unreadable, and she was simply cold. Suddenly, the Farwalker bowed, bending completely at the waist. Wyvora and members of the Synod paused only a moment before joining him.
"This one thanks you, Felix Nevarre, for the honoring of our dead."
Felix swallowed. "Finding her saved my life. It was the least I could do."
There was a moment of silence for their fallen Matriarchthe Favored Daughter, as the Raven had referred to her. A solemnity and grief plucked at all their Spirits, an emotion that Felix realized had been there all along, but banked like the embers of a fire. Now it surged. Clearly the former Matriarch had been well loved.
Felix eyed the current Matriarch, but the woman was stone faced. She even met his eyes, as if challenging him to call her out on it.
Suspicious, Pit sent. He too was watching the leader of the Henaari. Felix agreed, but it was just a feeling.
"Felix Nevarre. You have given us a great gift. The Raven asks that we search for knowledge, and there has been little else more important than finding out the fate of our own. I will have Wyvora draw up maps for the location and disposition of their forces, as best we understand them."
"That would be exceptionally useful," Felix said. "Thank you."
"That is but the first boon owed. To the second, we offer you supplies to ease your journey. Food, water, and a selection of healing salves and potions." A general murmur of agreement rose and fell around them as the Farwalker continued. "And for the third...do you plan to leave soon?"
"Tomorrow, I suspect," Felix said. "We do not have much time to...achieve our goal."
"Speed is recommended. Your foe has been consolidating his power since our encounter, and he seeks mastery over the Foglands. That is without a doubt. His forges are busy, and he is building something. From the way the earth quakes near his citadel, it is nothing pleasant."
"Citadel?" Harn asked. "What citadel? In Shelim?"
"No. Shelim is where the majority of his forces have gathered, but he has built a fortress atop the pass leading to the Bitter Sea," the Farwalker said.
"Well there goes that idea," Atar muttered.
"It is...not the only way," Wyvora suggested. "I have mapped several routes through those mountains. But they are dangerous. Far more dangerous than the simple Tier II beasts you've seen so far."
"Can you include those in your maps, then?" Felix asked, and Wyvora nodded. "I do not seek to engage with the Archon. I'd rather avoid him entirely, and I'd suggest you do the same. He is dangerous."
"Our Blessings will keep us safe," Fyszal said, one of the Synod. "The layers of our current protections cannot be penetrated."
The Farwalker's head snapped up. He looked off into the distance and gripped the sides of his chair.
"Farwalker Qzik, what is it?"
For the first time, Felix felt a quiver of the man's Spirit through the dark shroud he wore.
"Our border's breached."
It was the rhythm of fear.
