Irwin's Journey 437: Forced from the shadows

Irwin hummed as he walked through Lindifel. Three days had passed since he and Brecka had performed in the Ocre Inn, and he'd learned a few things since. People did still use soulshards, meaning he and Brecka would not have to work if they didn't want to. The Acenti had been here for a very long time, so long that many people didn't even remember it, and the only one who had ever heard of the Urdwellans was an old Acenti called Sneel, who dabbled in history.

"Guitarist! You playing again tonight?" someone called out.

"Most likely! See you there!" Irwin said, waving at a passing Parealion with practiced ease. The same had happened ever since the first evening of playing, with the Parealion's having swarmed him after the first night, wanting to know everything about his instrument and subsequently dubbing him Guitarist. 

The Parealion made a happy chirping sound, a deep throaty thing Irwin had learned they did when pleased. 

The same thing happened a few more times before he reached his destination, the top floor of the southern end of the town. 

I hope he found something, Irwin thought, knocking on a smooth, dark wooden door. 

It took a few minutes before a small, gnarly, and ancient-looking Acenti opened the door. 

"Ah, Guitarist! I had wondered when you would arrive," Sneel said, beckoning Irwin inside.

Irwin followed him. The door led straight into a simple, spacious, and incredibly dusty room. Books were lined neatly along the walls, while a few lay open on a table big enough to seat two families. Sneel moved to one of the chairs, sitting down with a sigh of relief.

"Take a seat, Guitarist Irwin," he said. "My Keybond will bring us something to drink as soon as she is ready."

Irwin nodded, still curious about what the Keybond entailed. He'd heard the term a few times now, but he was pretty sure from the way it was brought up that it should be common knowledge. 

"Now, you said you had a great interest in the ancient myths and legends of our world," Sneel said, smiling happily as if that was the greatest thing. "I can fully understand this, as without knowing what was, how can we know what is and might be?"

"Indeed," Irwin said, wondering what Daubutim would have made of the man.

A shuffling came from the door to the side, and a moment later, an old Acenti woman walked inside. She was carrying a tray with a pitcher and, some glasses and a few small plates with what Irwin guessed were small, green, crumbly cookies.

"Sneel, please tell me that you thanked Irwin for his beautiful performance before you started talking about history?" The woman asked, pinning the man with a sharp stare.

"Of course, my Key," Sneel said, looking at Irwin with a sudden, desperate hope.

"He did," Irwin said, smiling at the other Acenti as she put down the plate on the table.

"Did he now?" she said, frowning at him. 

Then she sighed. "Guitarist Irwin, thank you for your beautiful performance, and like I know many do, I hope you will remain here for a while longer."

"Thank you," Irwin said. "And for the hospitality."

"Think nothing of it," she said, smiling as she nudged Sneel lovingly. "Now, I'll leave you to your words."

As soon as she left, closing the door behind her, Sneel let out a soft sigh.

"Thanks for that," he said, taking one of the small, bite-sized cookies and tossing it in his mouth. 

The process made Irwin think of how Ambraz did things, and he had to hold back a laugh.

"Now, let's start where we left off yesterday evening. The Urdwellans were said to be the ruling house or species on Scour for thousands of years, all the way till the Frozen Death."

Irwin frowned at that, cocking his head. "Frozen Death?"

"Ah, you haven't heard it called that before?" Sneel said. "It doesn't surprise me. Most people only know the Viridian feast of Springleaves. It is to celebrate the first days of spring, but it originated because it coincides with the last days of the Frozen Death."

Irwin just nodded, though he was more than a little confused. As far as he recalled, Scour had no seasons. Instead, it was perpetually hot and dry. Still, as curious as he was, there were a few other things he needed to learn about first.

"Were your people here back when the Urdwellans ruled?" he asked.

Sneel laughed softly, taking a glass. "No, no. We are talking ancient history now, atleast thirty-eight thousand years ago, if the legends are accurate. My people arrived long after that, back when the Dark Grove Elders still ruled."

"I see," Irwin said. "So, what happened to the Urdwellans?"

"That's sadly hidden in the mists of time," Sneel said. "There are conflicting stories. One says that there was a great hunt for Cardsmiths and that it is the reason the Viridians lost their ancient Cardsmithing knowledge."

Irwin blinked in shock. "What?"

"Oh yes, the Urdwellans were said to be the greatest of cardsmiths. If the legends are true, they could do things the Viridian Smithing Guild can never hope to achieve again. It's also them we can thank for how we name the cards as we do: quartz, amethyst, and all that. Though I presume you know more about that than I," the Acenti said, glancing at Irwin's hand curiously. 

Irwin nodded slowly. What had happened? There had been plenty of cardsmiths when he'd left. Had the Guidar sent more mercenaries and somehow captured them? A powerless feeling filled him as he thought about what might have happened to Lord Urdwellan and the other smiths. To him, it had been only years ago, but from their point of view, it was ancient history. 

Perhaps the smith's guild pulled them off-world, Irwin thought.

Sneel cleared his throat. "I am sorry for asking."

"It's alright," Irwin said. "I was just lost in my memories. So, I've always been curious about your people and the Parealion. We don't see many of your kind in my town."

Sneel seemed more than willing to change the subject.

"Of course! Well, let's start with the Parealion. They arrived shortly after the Frozen Death, which they call the Great Shattering. According to their legends, something happened to the world they lived in, and many died. Those who survived-"

Irwin quietly listened as Sneel divulged a torrent of detailed information, most of which he didn't need or care about. However, the overall story that was told slowly helped him fill in some of the blanks. Apparently, the Parealion's homeworld had become unstable, and they had fled the worldshards to Scour before turning into Addled. This wasn't unlike the Frozir and the Galubs. He also learned that Parealion were apparently very short-lived, and only a small percentage ever managed to gain a higher-level soulskill- one that was on par with a heartcard in power.

"My own people arrived through something called the Exit Corridor," Sneel continued. "It was supposedly a mystical pathway that led to another world, though, for some reason, most of the details have been lost. Many of us, historians that is, believe this was done on purpose, though why?" The Acenti shrugged.

Irwin had a good idea why that was, and he continued listening, directing the conversation toward the part he really wanted to know.

"Yes, the curse of the chains," Sneel said with a sigh. "Even now, it haunts my people, although it weakens with every generation. If the ancient stories were true, at some point, my people were unable to do anything but follow the commands within them. I don't know if that's true, but now it's just an annoying distraction that sometimes pops up in the younger generations."

"And you can get rid of it entirely by… soul-bonding?" Irwin asked.

"Exactly," Sneel said, grimacing. "I'd love to tell you more about it, but as you must know, the Parealion don't like talking about their soulskill. Let's just say that the ceremony was beautiful, and for me, it meant the few chains I had left were shattered and broken after."

Irwin nodded, holding back his desire to ask for details. If the Parealion were somehow able to shatter chains, knowing how would be invaluable. If they could offer the army of the Guidar a way to break free, he was sure that some, perhaps even many, or best yet, all, would take it. 

Something to find out if I can, he decided.

They continued talking for a while longer, and Irwin tried to dig deeper into the Acenti history. Sadly, Sneel knew little more than he'd told him. When they finally stopped, it was because Sneel's Keybound came and told them it was getting about time for the evening meal. 

Irwin took the hint, thanked Sneel, and left for the Ocre Branch Inn, trying to come to grips with what he'd learned.

So, the current ruling body is called The Grove Conclave, he pondered. They were supposedly still in Cinder Grove, which was the capital of the Viridian-controlled part of the world. Perhaps that would be the best place to go, to learn things. Besides, they had a Carsmiths Guild there, including an academy they called the Cardschool.

Irwin returned to the room he and Brecka shared to find the young woman waiting for him.

"Irwin, you won't believe what I found," she said excitedly. "Those Oxarites apparently have an entire nation all the way to the south in some mountainous region with volcanoes. It's half a year with a caravan, but perhaps we can get there faster?"

Irwin thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Did you get any more information about it?"

"Yes, there are apparently different types of Oxarites, so we should fit right in, and besides the Viridians, they are the only other nation with cardsmiths."

That explains why people weren't too surprised to see our cards, Irwin thought.

"They are called the Oxarite Empire, and there's supposedly an enormous city that is built into an inactive volcano," Brecka said. 

We could go there, Irwin thought as he sat down and leaned back in the chair, causing it to creak dangerously.

The problem was, they weren't really Oxarites, and real Oxarites might be able to determine this easily. Instead, if they went to Cinder Grove, they would probably be able to get away with it much easier. Besides, the reason he was here was to improve his ability to create soulseeds and to figure out a way to bring people here. They needed to make use of this time dilation to increase their armies as quickly as possible.

"We can go there eventually," he said as he made up his mind. "But for now, we are heading to Cinder Grove. They have a school for cardsmiths, which-"

Irwin stopped talking as his keen senses picked up a tiny soulforce disturbance nestling against the side of their room. It was near the window, and he was almost a hundred percent sure that it was a shade walker.

"- which means we can see if we can find someone to teach us," Irwin continued, looking at Brecka before pointing at the window and raising his eyebrows slightly.

Brecka opened her mouth, closed it, and frowned before nodding.

"Right," she said. "I still don't think someone will be willing to teach us, but I guess it doesn't hurt to try. Do you want me to try to find a caravan that is heading in that direction?"

"Please do," Irwin said, slowly getting up.

He snapped his fingers and moved through the sound waves to appear outside the window. To anyone else, there would have been nothing there but shadows, but he sensed the shadewalker clearly. Whoever it was, they were weak, probably a handcarded. Things happened within an instant, and before he could fall more than a foot, he pulsed his soulforce forward.

There was a shiver in the shadows, and then a hooded figure tumbled down with a startled grunt.

Irwin used those sound waves and appeared beside the hooded figure, grabbing them around the throat. Another snap of his fingers later, he was back in their room, holding the slightly built figure by its neck.

"Now what… do we have here?" Irwin said, shaking the figure slightly as he spoke. 

Brecka had moved to stand with him, and she reached out, pulling away the hood to reveal an Acenti face, eyes wide and bulging. As soon as Irwin saw the Acenti, he felt his worry grow. Had he been wrong? Were there still Acenti, chained and loyal to the Guidar?

"I think you need to put him down before he suffocates," Brecka said.

Irwin saw that the man was barely able to breathe, and he cursed. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how strong he was compared to someone who was below even a single heartcarded in power. The man wasn't any danger to him, and he wanted answers. What if some Guidar had managed to reach Scour?

"Right," he said, lowering the figure till their feet touched the ground. "Sorry about that."

Relaxing his grip just slightly, he examined their observer. Middle-aged and with pale blue hair and eyes, he began drawing in deep, ragged breaths. 

"Now, how about you tell us why you were snooping?" he asked.

The figure didn't respond, still breathing like a fish on dry land. Still, Irwin saw his eyes flit across the room as if searching for a way out. A weak buildup of soulforce showed he tried something, but Irwin's own soulforce was too powerful, easily interfering with whatever he was trying.

"Don't bother," Irwin said. "You won't be getting away until you explain yourself."

The figure's hands flashed to his waist, but Brecka was faster, and she grabbed his wrist, stopping the dagger before it could plunge into Irwin's waist. Not that he would have worried about that. It was a normal dagger, and he didn't expect it to be able to puncture his skin. The Acenti's eyes widened in stunned surprise, slowly filling with fear.

"Now, why would you go and do that?" he muttered, summoning a flame above his finger and moving it towards the man's face. "Start talking. Who are you, and why did you just try to stab me?"

The man swallowed, his throat bobbing below Irwin's hand.

"You are asking questions best left alone," he croaked. "Let me go, or-"

Irwin squeezed, cutting off his voice. "Alright, let's try again. Who are you, and why are you here?"

He waited for a few seconds as the man clutched at his wrists before relaxing his grip.

"The Oxarite Empire will not meddle with our business," he croaked.

Irwin sighed. He had always hated interrogating people, and this one seemed a tough nut to crack. 

Let's try this first, he thought.

He glanced at Brecka. "Think he is deaf? It's like he's not willing to answer my questions."

"Perhaps he needs some more incentive?" Brecka asked dangerously.

Irwin was somewhat surprised by the way her eyes narrowed and hoped she wasn't really suggesting torturing him. Perhaps if his attack with the dagger had been dangerous, he'd have thought differently, but as it was, he just wanted answers. 

"Let's see if this works," he muttered to himself before smiling at Brecka. "I'll be right back."

He snapped his fingers, dragging the man with him across the sound waves. He rushed through the trees, reappearing hundreds of yards above the canopy. Gravity instantly took hold of them, pulling them down.

"Now, I, for one, can survive this fall," Irwin said, not releasing his grip on the man flailing down with him. "You, on the other hand, are probably not going to. So, how about you answer some questions?"

"I won't betray the Conclave," the man screamed. "Do with me what you will, assassin of the empire!"

Irwin blinked, staring at the flailing man in surprise.

"Assassin? I'm no assassin," he said. "I think you are taking  me with someone else."

"You lie! I saw you talk with the old historian. He told me what you were asking about," the man screamed, his eyes locked on the rapidly approaching canopy. "You are searching for the ancient ways, but those are locked! Nobody will contact the Chainers!"

Irwin felt a shiver run through him at that name. Chainers meant Guidar! So, there were those who still knew about them, at least indirectly. More so, if they had found him this fast, it meant they were actively on the lookout for anyone asking questions. The only reason they would be doing that was if there was some reason to believe the Guidar could come here. Still, the way he'd spoken, if not a lie, also seemed to suggest he was not working with the Guidar.

Perhaps some ancient association that has survived till this day? he wondered. It felt unlikely, as that meant it had been around for tens of thousands of years… was that even possible?

Well, Gelwin managed…

He frowned, then dashed across the sound waves again, landing on a top branch far from the town. 

"You say that nobody should ever connect to the Chainers," he said. "Let's say I agree. That still doesn't answer who you are and why you tried to kill me with a dagger just now."

The Acenti looked sick, the constant movement through the sound waves clearly not without effect. Irwin sighed and let him regain his clarity. After a few moments, the Acenti blinked and regained some clarity.

"Now, let's try this again," Irwin said. "Who are you, and why are you watching for anyone asking questions about the Chainers?"

The Acenti stared at him for a moment before snorting. 

"You may be more powerful than me and act differently from the others, but you can't trick me. The only ones who know about the Chainers are those who seek them."

"Does that happen a lot then?" Irwin asked. 

"Either let me go or kill me, but I'm done talking," the man hissed.

Irwin blinked, then sighed. He didn't feel like killing the man, even if he had tried to stab him. Not until he knew who he was. He might just be someone who was trying very hard to stop the Guidar from finding his people, which was something he could relate to.

"Right, well, how about this. What if I tell you the Chainer's real name?"

The man's reaction was stunning, his face going purplish, then turning deathly white as his eyes widened in pure shock and dismay. 

"Or not…" Irwin muttered, starting to get more than a little annoyed. "Listen, you are the one who listened in on my private conversation, and when I asked you-"

"Are you from the Exit Corridor?" the man whispered, his lips shivering. "Did they finally find us?"

The pure, existential horror in the man's voice made Irwin feel even more sympathy. 

"They have not," he said, with a shake of his head. "But I think we are going about this the wrong way. You are supposed to answer my questions, not the other way around. Now, let's go with the following: if you answer a question of mine, I'll answer one of yours."

"Did you really pass through the Exit Corridor?" he Acenti whispered.

Irwin sighed. "Fine, or we do it the other way around. If I answer this, will you answer my question on who you are?"

The man swallowed, then very slowly nodded.

"Fine," Irwin said. "Yes, I'm from the Exit Corridor."

"Proof it," the man hissed. "Name what lies beyond!"

Irwin sighed. "You better answer my questions after this."

The man nodded, even though it hadn't been a question.

"The Portal Gallery," Irwin said.

"Describe it!"

"Oh, by Gelwin's balls," Irwin snapped. "An interconnected, likely infinite set of corridors that connect worlds and Portal Branches together."

The man seemed to slump in his hand, eyes rolling up.

"..." Irwin took a deep breath. "Surely you are kidding me," he muttered.

When there was no answer, he almost slapped the man.

"Fine, let's get you back and see what you have to say."

--

Rinbur woke slowly, his mind a fussy mess. For a moment, he wondered where he was, then his old training kicked in. He faked, still sleeping, as he tried to recall what had happened. He'd gone to check on the odd Oxarite that had been playing music and asking weird questions to Sneel, and then… 

The memories of his capture rushed through his mind, and it took all his willpower to remain lying still. He'd thought it would just be a simple check, listen in, and find out the two were laughing at the silly legends. Instead, he'd been grabbed and taken before he could fully realize it. The next part was a woozy haze of events, where he barely recalled shouting out the standard things he'd been taught, trying to deflect things. 

Why here? Why not in one of the larger towns, he thought, feeling his panic rise. Why would the first signs of the horrible stories he'd never really believed in come here, in this beautiful, calm little fringe town?

I should have listened to Father, he thought. Why did I think joining that stupid old cult would be a good idea? Just for a handful of cards and a steady income…

"I think he is waking up."

Rinbur almost froze as the deep voice made him recall the enormous tidal wave of soulforce that had ripped him from the shadowrealm. It had been ridiculous. Even during the times he'd been at the cult's headquarters and spoke with the most powerful instructors, he'd not sensed anything like this.

"How about you stop acting? You owe me some answers."

Please, let me wake up, please let me wake up, Rinbur thought as he opened his eyes.

He was lying on his side, and in front of him, sitting at the table, where the man who'd captured him and the black Oxarite with the terrifying eyes.

"Don't try and shadowstep," the man -Irwin- warned.

Of course not. Do you think I'm crazy? Rinbus thought, but he kept quiet. He tried to recall his training on what to do when captured. Something about feeding fake information and biding for time?

And committing suicide, a tiny part of him recalled, causing Rinbus to shiver.

"I won't," he said, trying to keep his tough facade up. 

"Good, now, I answered your questions. How about you sit down and tell me who you are and why you tried to stab me?"

Rinbus shivered as he recalled his hand grabbing his dagger and stabbing forward. He'd done it instinctively, one of the moves he'd learned long ago, but he knew that if his father ever heard, he would be incredibly disappointed in him. 

If I even survive, he thought as he pushed himself up and moved to the table. 

There was a cup waiting for him, and he hesitated before taking the cup and drinking. If they had wanted to kill him, they could have easily done so. He'd barely swallowed the water when he recalled he'd been told never to drink or eat anything, as it could contain some form of mind-altering substance.

Too late now.

"I'm Rinbus," he said slowly. "I… are you really from the Portal Gallery?"

He couldn't stop the disbelief from trickling into his voice, and apparently, it placated the towering, muscle-bound musician.

"I am, and I think we might have started on the wrong foot," he said. "I take it you are not a fan of the G… the Chained?"

He knows their name, Rinbus thought, recalling the bits of knowledge he'd been told never to share with anyone ever. Somehow, that made him feel better.

"So the stories are true," he whispered. 

"That depends on what stories you have heard," the man said. "Now, how about you tell me a bit about yourself?"

Rinbus shrugged, leaning back. Why couldn't this have happened to one of the others? Why did it have to happen in his quiet, peaceful, lovely town on the edge of nowhere?

"Sure. I'm Rinbus, and I'm part of the Cult of the Unchained. We are The Vigilant, always watching for any signs of the Chainers to return…" he sighed. "And until today, I'd never thought this was anything but a silly, well-paying job."