Chapter 82: ADAPT

Risens wrenched his blade from the still body of the final creature that had attacked him. The black ooze that poured from the wound steamed as it met with the clear water of the pool. Like smoke dissipating in a stout wind, it faded into nothingness, leaving only the clean water behind.

“Do not forsake us. Wash the carrion filth from our edges.”

Gone were the sensations of abject fear, yet there was an undeniable sense of concern that colored the voices of the blades that screamed in his mind. Dipping the metal in the water the vile blood of the creatures hissed as it steamed away. The sense of satisfaction was clear as he wiped the remaining liquid off before returning them to their sheaths. Strangely enough, the symbols that counted down the time of their use, didn’t increase with the deaths of the unexpected creatures.

The sense of dread that had permeated his touch on the handles had faded with the death of the second creature. That they were dead, he was certain, yet he was still cautious as he dragged their lifeless hunks from the water. Somehow, leaving them to rot in the pool didn’t seem right.

No sooner had he cleared them from the water than they too started smoldering like a soggy piece of wood left close to the intense heat of a fire to dry. He stepped back covering his nose as within a matter of a few breaths the large shiny black carrion dissolved before his eyes.

Beyond the name that the Raven Talons had screamed in his mind, he had no knowledge of what the creatures truly were. The fear had no doubt stemmed from the impenetrable shells that coated their bodies. how and why the water proved to be the key to his victory was an unknown to him. With the threats seemingly neutralized, her returned his attention to the vessel atop the pillar. Mother Raven had sent him on a quest. Sent him to collect the item with no information as to the dangers beyond the mere warning. That there was an importance beyond his current understanding, he was certain, though presently he failed to see through the shroud of mystery that seemed to surround every cryptic message and quest she provided. know what it’s a purpose?

That the overwhelming fear from the blades had faded with the deaths of the carrion lured him into a sense of security as he approached the bowl. In truth, he had no understanding of what would happen once he picked the bowl up the pedestal. Provided that no further creatures emerged from the stone, he anticipated that the portal to the Barren would open once again. The fact that the wall remained stagnant, covered by nothing but mossy growth and moisture showed him that his task here was not yet complete.

With a rapid, but cautious motion Risens lifted the vessel before retreating several steps from the pillar. For a few moments, he waited and watched. No further creatures burrowed through the stone, though even more disturbingly, no portal opening granting him access to leave the chamber.

There was something the chamber, some part of the quest that he had yet to fulfill.

With the immediate concern for his safety satiated for the moment, he studied the vessel that he’d collected from the stone pillar. It was clearly made of stone but surprisingly lighter than he’d anticipated. It wasn’t overly deep, though it was wider than he’d expected, ever from his original inspection. If the vessel itself wasn’t the quest, than what was?

It only took a moment for the realization to dawn on him. It wasn’t merely the bowl that was required, but its contents as well. He gave the area where the carrion had dissolved a wide berth as he stepped to the side of the pool. For the first time, he peered into the water, studying the shallow depths. The bottom was rocky though in a few places, plants sprouted in small clumps though they remained below he surface. He had a descent working knowledge of plants, though most was dedicated to concocting poisons and even simple remedies, yet he couldn’t identify their form.  The unexpected appearance of the plants spurred his next decision.

Plunging his free hand into the water, he scooped a small clump of the growth, roots and all from the stoney bottom of the pool. Though he didn’t recognize the plant, he expected he knew someone who could. He would find a way to bring it to Tawny to see she could identify it.

She was far better versed. Her knowledge continued to surprise and impress him, though the most recent development had come with its own set of complications.

Gently placing the stone vessel on a relatively flat section of to his side, Risens leaned down over the water. His legs were wet below the knees, he’d experience the chill of its temperature. Cupping his hands, he scooped up the cool liqud, bringing it up to his nose. It smelled crisp and clean and fresh, though he dared not drink. Beyond the creatures that had died in its depths, he knew that this was not merely a spring that bubbled up from the mountains or that sustained much of the life in Windwake and beyond.

The water slipped through the cracks between his fingers, rippling the surface as he poured it back into the pool. Collecting the bowl, he dipped it into the liquid scooping up as much as he could carry without spilling it in the process. He swirled the clear water in the vessel causing the diffused reflections of light to flare off the particles crystals within the rock. Over the staccato drops of water on the ground, the slight whisper of movement, a muffled, yet noticeable shift in the pressure of the air drew his attention back to the wall he’d entered from.

In the distinct shape of a doorway he’d come to recognize, a section of stone rippled as if it were merely a vision through a clear pool. With a sudden darkening, the wavering black void of portal opened on the wall.

With the apparent completion of his task, Risens had no desire to linger in the chamber. The first stage of the Under had not been entirely difficult, yet it had still tested him beyond his expectations. The troubling fear that emanated from the blade was realized in an unexpected enemy that seemed to have no weakness. That is until he’d doused them in the water he now desperately tried no to.slosh onto his clothing.

Crossing the room to the portal.was done with relative ease, the void of the portal patiently awaiting his arrival. Stepping into the inky shadow he was surprised by the utter lack of the oppressive pressure, icy chill and devastating speed. As he blinked his eyes back open, his vision resolved on a scene that was wholly unexpected.

Risens had not returned to the minute, rounded chunk that signified the entrance to the Under. To his surprise, he now looked across the expanse of the ramshackle house he was brought to in the Barren.

The structure that he had not know he’d created.

Risens now stood as he had when he had entered for the first time. Holding the bold in front of his body, he faced the small thatched house, rotting away slowly in the fallow fields that surrounded it. Mother Raven crouched by the door her focus intent on whatever design her finger dragged through sand in the ground. She raised her eyes as his footsteps sounded on the loose Earth.

“You have returned, fledgling.”

“I have. And as always, I’ve returned with more questions than answers,” he grumbled.

“You act like that is a bad thing,” she crowed. “The ones who have the fewest questions always seem to have the fewest answers, understand the least and make wild assumptions that are inevitably wrong. And deadly.”

His ancient guide rose from where she was crouched noy before scratching out whatever it was she was tracing in the dirt. She gliding into the house without saying another word. Risens shook his head at the expected reaction, he glanced down at the vessel and the water, surprised to find that it no longer sloshed as he moved, but was frozen solid. The icy chill of the brief passing had turned it into a block of crystal clear ice. The peculiar plant was stationary, appearing as it were merely frozen in time. The temperature here in the Barren was mild, he assumed it would melt before long unless he could get a fire started. 

He cast a quick glance at the section of earth the his guide had been tracing her design in. There were definitive hints of some sort of rune in the earth, though any true details had been disguised by her actions. His surprise continued as followed Mother Raven into the dilapidated house. His progress ground to a startled stop as entered. When he’d departed the chamber for the Under, the furnishings had been sparse. Beyond the broken pallet for a bed, the pair of doors and the hearth built into the wall there had been nothing of note. Now, a stone pedestal, similar to the one that held the vessel in the Under stood in the center of the room. It only took a momentary scan to confirm the rest of the room remained unchanged.

“Yes, yes, place the vessel on the pedestal, fledgling,” Mother Raven ushered him into the chamber. Her voice was clipped with a relatively condescending tone of one who knew their words would be heeded. The awkwardness of the moment was not lost on him. He had achieved the title of King’s Rightmaker. In all of Halthome there was but one man he was bound to answer to, King Lathrenon. His commands regularly were issued from the unquestionable mouth of the ruler of the realm, yet here he was, following the instructions of a cryptic old woman, dressed like a raven on a hidden mysterious floating island.

She had not proven untrustworthy, merely vague. Mother Raven was his guide though she was adamant that she would not provide answers without effort, leaving him yo reach the conclusions or solution on his own.

Risens couldn’t argue with the logic. There was far greater value in learning than merely being told. He also understood one thing above all else, and that was power. Without a chance to react, he’d found himself defenseless at the end of her blades.

There was likely nothing he could have done to prevent her from spilling his blood if she so desired. Even for one so aged, the woman was likely unstoppable. The dull wind had moved her across the expanse of the Raven’s Court cross in the blink of an eye. Before his hands could find their blades, the feathers of her cloak, hardened into blades, pushing against his neck. The skin on his neck had dimpled at the gentle pressure of the point yet, not even a drop of blood had been drawn.

He had no desire to cross her. She and the ominous voice that commanded him demanded respect. Their words and intentions held a power that was tangible. The words of the King felt hollow and tainted.

The echoes of “false king” ricocheted through his mind.

“Place in the bowl in the pedestal,” Mother Raven clapped her hands once, and unexpected show of impatience from the elderly guide. “You did well to figure the task out quickly and to return alive. Do not let the success go to your head. Anything beyond the initial chamber will be far more difficult. Far more dangerous.”

Risens stepped forward observing the new pillar as best he could as he placed the vessel atop the stone. There was no need to adjust the placement, nor balance the bowl. The stone fit atop the pillar as if it had been crafted specifically to receive it. The thought crossed his mind, that it likely had been erected for that exact purpose.

“Where did this come from?”

Stepping back he inspected the pillar. It was constructed of stone, matching the coloration of the vessel he’d retrieved. At first glance, he’d have assumed that the pair had been carved from the same rock. The design that wrapped up the pillar was an intricate scene depicting a winding tree, its branches and foliage detailed by master hands. In several locations, birds were perched on the limbs, needing no identification.

Ravens, majestic and intricately detailed watched him from the tree.

“The Barren will adapt to the circumstances that surround it,” she replied. “The vessel needed a place to rest and it was made so. As I have said, this land is yours to mold to your liking.”

He had heard the statement before but had attributed to his physical ability to modify the space. Where he would procure the supplies and materials was a question that he hadn’t considered, though now it seemed that the answer had presented itself before he could pose the question. Somehow, the thought of converting the structure into useable home of sorts brought a surge of excitement to him. Since his earliest memories, he had called his secret wing under the castle his home.

How long that would remain was in question.