Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

His words, together with Ashling‘s gentle and soothing song, seemed to put the Tunawa at ease. When she held her knife by the blade, as if she were offering it to his fiancée, Tristan smiled at her and nodded encouragingly, as if he wanted to tell her that she was doing the right thing, that she could trust them. He was far more relaxed now. It seemed as if everything was coming to a positive conclusion, after all. Maybe, there was even no poison as he had worried about before. Maybe they had done the right thing by waking the Tunawa up. Maybe they would be able to find something out that would help Melrath.

He was just about to ask the little Tunawa what kind of message she and her companions had been about to deliver when Musablot suddenly struck. Tristan had been worried about the grey mouser before – he had wondered if he would get poisoned – but at the moment, most of his concern was for the grey mouser’s victim. Normally, he absolutely loved cats, but by the Immortals (and the spirits, of course!), he was not particularly fond of Musablot now. His eyes widened in shock as the cat trashed the poor little Tunawa this way and that, and he instinctively told him, “Musablot, no! Stop!”

Musablot did of course not stop; and what more, the Tunawa lost her grip of her weapon, and the poisoned blade flew through the air and struck Ashling’s cheek. But a few moments later, she lost consciousness. Tristan’s heart skipped a beat, and he held his breath for a moment. He was about to rush over to her, murmuring her name, when the healers of House Imair moved over to her and began to check her, and the weapon.

For a moment, the young duke was completely overwhelmed. He looked from Ashling to Musablot and his victim and back, not sure what he was supposed to do, if there was even anything that he could do. And then he moved over to the table where the poor Tunawa was lying motionlessly, looked at Musablot who seemed to just be waiting for his victim to move again (Tristan wasn’t afraid of the Tunawa at all anymore; his heart just went out to her!), reached into his bag that contained various herbs and removed a bag of dried valerian from it.

He knew from experience that cats liked valerian, so he showed Musablot the bag and even let him sniff at it before he tossed it on the ground, hoping that he would lose interest in the Tunawa. He wasn’t entirely sure if it would work; but desperate situations required desperate measures, and this was definitely a very, very desperate situation!

“Can somebody take care of the cat?” he asked the other people present before he went to inspect the Tunawa that was … well, whatever was coming out of the wound was definitely not blood, but looked more like tree sap. It was definitely just as bad as blood though!

“Which Heart? What do you mean?” he asked it, still speaking in Treetalk, thanks to Chester, just as it went into shock. “Does anybody know how to keep a Tunawa from bleeding out?” he asked the healers before he decided to begin treating the little creature himself because he wasn’t sure how much more time they had. Had the Tunawa been a human, he would have put pressure on the wound in order to stop the bleeding; the Tunawa was kind of like a plant though – which suddenly gave him an idea. When one of the trees in his garden was losing sap, he usually applied a coat of tree sealer which would seal off the wound and protect it.

“I need … I need aloe gel or something similar to seal the wound”, he told the healers while he tried to put pressure on the wound regardless because that might have some sort of effect. As soon as he had the gel, he quickly began to apply it. Hopefully that, with the Tunawa’s healing abilities (if it was anything like a tree, it should heal pretty quickly) would be enough.

“Chester? Your Holiness? I don’t assume you know anything that could help?” he asked his Diri companion as well as Jasper who seemed to be busy doing some sort of meditation.

Jasper, Tristan noticed, did not answer when he asked him for help. In fact, the holy man did not say a single word to him or even look in his direction for a moment which was something that he might have found strange if he hadn’t been too busy trying to save the little Tunawa’s life in order to ponder such things for any length of time. He was not a doctor, no matter how many things he might have picked up from Ashling or from her mother, and he couldn’t help but feel a little bit overwhelmed, especially since there was a lot that might be at stake!

Fortunately, one of the healers of House Imair lured Musablot who he would have been quite fond of otherwise (The way that the grey mouser had tried to flirt with Ashling when they had worked on the spirit-speech potion had been absolutely amusing!), but who he really didn’t want to be anywhere near him right now away. He could hear the cat munch on his sausage quite enthusiastically which meant that there was one less problem for him to deal with now. It seemed as if the grey mouser would be busy for a while!

“Thank you very much”, he replied politely when one of the other healers handed him a gel, briefly glancing at it and deciding that it would do before he quickly went about applying it. When it worked, and the sap started to harden and dry, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. But again, that relief only lasted for a few moments before more bad news arrived. When the little Tunawa came to again and coughed, he instinctively raised it a bit so that it would be able to cough with more ease, carefully watching it in the process so that he would be able to quickly intervene with more gel, or medicine, should the need arise.

“Where can we find the Flesh?” he asked the Tunawa, again in Treetalk. “What is the Creeping Sleeping Heart?” he continued before his voice took on a gentler tone and he wanted to know, because the Tunawa’s health still worried him, “How do you feel? Is there anything that you need?” Now that the Tunawa had regained consciousness, it might be able to tell him more about what was bothering it, if it needed nourishment or, perhaps, something for the pain. In hindsight, he thought, it had been silly of him to be so afraid of it!

When Chester explained why Jasper hadn’t answered him and that he had delved into a dangerous vision, the young duke’s eyes widened for a moment before he inclined his head in a gesture of gratitude (He would reward his diri handsomely for his help when this here was over!) and turned to the holy man in order to speak to him and tell him to leave his vision.

Before, he had deferred to Jasper and let him take the lead because he was an Aesir and much more familiar with matters of the spirit, but now he would take charge. Tristan had been one of the most powerful men in Rynmere once upon a time, and he had been friends with an actual king. In Melrath, he worked as an alchemist and an artist for the most part, but he still knew exactly how to make people listen to him!

He addressed Jasper in a firm and commanding tone of voice that made it obvious that he would not tolerate any disagreement rather than the friendly and comparatively gentle tone of voice that he usually made use of, “Jasper. Your Holiness. Listen to me. You have delved into a dangerous vision. Do not explore that connection any further. Whatever is happening, do not look. You are at risk. Come back immediately. The Creeping, Sleeping Heart will consume all of Melrath, spirits and mortals alike. It may consume you as well. I repeat, come back immediately”, he continued while he watched the holy man for any signs that he was about to listen to him and leave his vision.

If talking to Jasper in his “duke” voice didn’t work – well, a firm punch or a bucket of ice-cold water over his head was likely to interrupt a trance, or whatever the state that Jasper was in was called. As punching holy men or dousing them with ice-cold water could have unforeseen consequences, even if you informed the people around you of your plan beforehand and he was a largely peaceful man, Tristan refrained from employing such methods for the time being though.

Besides, he was positive that talking to Jasper would work. His wonderful feline Diri had said that he could bridge the gap and let him talk to the Holy Man. With Chester’s help, anything was possible!

Tristan was quite relieved when Jasper returned from whatever dangerous vision he’d delved into – and he was glad that he hadn’t been forced to punch the holy man or douse him with icy water in order to save him. When the holy man turned around as if to spare the other people in the room the sight of him being sick and subsequently emptied the contents of his stomach on the floor, the young duke was neither disgusted nor horrified.

He was just sympathetic. It was obvious that whatever Jasper had experienced had been terrible.

He didn’t give the holy man a towel so that he could clean up his vomit, but simply produced a towel and quickly and efficiently removed the mess on the floor before he remarked, “Musablot bit the Tunawa. Fortunately, I managed to save its life though.” He was a little bit shaky himself, he had to admit, but more than that, he was happy that both Jasper and the Tunawa were fine.

When Jasper said that he understood now why the Tunawa fled into sleep, he raised an eyebrow before he nodded. “It revealed some information to me as well. My spirit companion allows me to communicate, no matter which language someone speaks”, he explained as Jasper and the others might be wondering how he had been able to understand the Tunawa.

“Not at all”, he replied when Jasper asked him if he’d mind accompanying him to speak with his elders. “The situation is quite urgent. They should know about this as soon as possible”, he added before he turned to the little Tunawa that clung to him, the expression on his face softening. In hindsight, he didn’t understand how he could ever have been afraid of the poor little thing.

“Of course, you can come with us. Let me know if you get cold again”, he said when the Tunawa hid in the warmth of his shirt before he turned to face the guards. He had been living in Melrath long enough to know that them using his title was a rare sign of respect, and he inclined his head as a consequence and nodded before he followed them.

“I’m glad that you are feeling fine again”, he remarked when Jasper thanked him for his help before he followed the others to the citadel, quickly, because time might be of the essence.

Normally, he might have enjoyed the walk through the city – it was beautiful – but as it was, he was mostly focused on what he had seen and mentally preparing himself for the meeting with the Elders. When Jasper asked him how Ashling was doing, he replied though, smiling slightly, “My fiancée is fortunately fine. As for the conversation with the Tunawa”, he continued, and the expression on his face grew much more serious again as he quickly relayed what he had learned, checking if the Tunawa under his shirt was alright as he did so.

When they finally reached the Elders, Tristan inclined his head in a gesture of deep respect. He was about to make a step back and position himself behind Jasper, as was appropriate in his opinion – he was among holy men here – but when the little Tunawa started squirming, he decided to stay close to the flame, so that it could enjoy its warmth.

“While Jasper experienced his vision”, he said to the Elders in a polite tone of voice, once it was finally his turn to speak. “I healed the Tunawa. With the help of my noble spirit companion, I was able to communicate with it. It told me that the Heart Wakes and that it sees us”, he continued in a serious tone of voice that hopefully conveyed the gravity of the situation and repeated everything that the Tunawa had said to him, including the fact that the Sleeping Heart was drawn to the blood of sacrifices.

“The Flesh must be destroyed where it lies. Or the Creeping, Sleeping Heart will consume all of Melrath, spirits, mortals and all”, he repeated the Tunawa’s words that would be engrained in his memory forever once more and proceeded to suppress a shudder. Rynmere had been ravaged by a civil war and a plague, and now the fate of his new home was at stake as well!

“His Holiness mentioned Noatun and Arkenstone”, he added. He remembered an earthquake in Noatun a few seasons earlier, but the name Arkenstone didn’t tell him anything. He didn’t have any idea whether Arkenstone was a place or a person, but maybe someone knew.

The name seemed to be of great importance.

“Is there anything that you would like to tell the Elders?” he gently asked the little Tunawa that hopefully felt warm again now before he finally fell silent and waited, for the Elders to speak or for the Tunawa to add something to what Jasper and he had said.

Tristan remained standing when the Elder that spoke for the rest told Jasper to take a seat, and he did so until he was told that he was allowed to sit down as well. He was among holy men, and he would not be so arrogant as to presume that he would get the same treatment as an Aesir. When he was finally seated as well, he made sure to check how the Tunawa who was still residing under his shirt was doing and adjust his position accordingly if it seemed that is unexpected new companion might be uncomfortable.

The Elders seemed to not have paid a lot of attention to the little one so far, but in Tristan’s opinion, the Tunawa was just as much part of this here as Jasper and him, probably even more so, for the Tunawa and its companions had delivered the initial warning.

The holy men, he observed as he sat there and waited for the tale to begin, looked concerned, as if they already knew what was going on – or did at least have a definite suspicion.

When the Elder who spoke for the rest of them talked about Alora’s End, the young duke listened attentively. He had been vaguely aware of the existence of a place called Flayer’s End in Myrkvior’s Forest, but he had not known the story behind it. The events surrounding the Defier Alora and her dramatic death had taken place before his arrival in Melrath. Even though it sometimes seemed like an eternity to him, he had only arrived in Zi’da that arc.

When the Elder said that the lake that Alora had destroyed had had an Induk associated with it and that that Induk had been warped beyond recognition, Tristan’s eyes widened in surprise and shock. He had a suspicion as to where this might be going now, and he couldn’t help but worry, especially after what Chester told him about the Naer’s sacrifice.

The Tale of Alora’s End and its consequences had already constituted the cause of considerable concern in his opinion, but when the Elder mentioned the meddling of what he called “Immortal-born” – and subsequently said Eihr’s name, the effect was worse. At the same time, he was hopeful though. The Elder had mentioned that Eihr might possess something that would put an end to the crisis before it came to a head – except that Eihr was not Eihr anymore. He wondered how he was supposed to explain that to the Elders.

He also had questions now – more than just one – but he decided to save his question for later as it seemed as if the Elder was not done with his story yet, and it would be inappropriate to interrupt him. So, he sat there, his gaze firmly trained on the Aesir and continued to listen to him.

“I am”, Tristan replied in a polite tone of voice when the Elder asked Jasper and him if they were aware and inclined his head. Ashling has asked him to attend a ritual sacrifice, back when they had first gotten engaged, and he had heard of an earthquake of sorts in Noatun, among other things.

When the Elder said that they believed that the crawling menace would arrive on the anniversary of Lanneisse’s transformation and that the two forces must not be allowed to join together, Tristan’s heart started to beat faster. The situation was, he decided, even more dire than he had thought before. He looked at Jasper and the little Tunawa for a moment, wondering what they thought of the story the Elder had just told, and then he raised his voice.

“You mentioned a man named Eihr, Your Holiness”, he remarked in a respectful tone of voice. “I met this man, before he stabbed the spirit. He is not in Melrath anymore, as far as I know, but perhaps, it is possible for me to reach out to him or find him, or at least get what you need”, he continued, thinking about the crystal heart that Eihr had given to him when he had first met him. It told Eihr if he was well, no matter the distance between them, and if he ever came into danger, it would Eihr to teleport to him, at least once a cycle.

Maybe, he thought, Eihr’s heart would activate as the Cold Cycle approached and the danger became more imminent, provided that he wasn’t found and arrived in Melrath first.

It occurred to him that there might be a certain risk involved for his brother if he returned to Melrath – the Melrathi didn’t take the wounding of a spirit lightly – but it seemed as if the Elders were more interested in speaking to him and acquiring whatever item he had than anything else. And if something happened, after all, he might be able to keep him safe. And anyway, he couldn’t keep quiet and possibly risk the destruction of an entire nation.

For the time being, he decided not to mention that Eihr was the entity that had occupied his brother Hart’s body for a while, and that Hart was a Mortalborn, an all the other complex aspects of his history. Trying to understand what exactly had happened had given him a headache. They needed clarity now and not a story that was confusing beyond measure.

“You also mentioned Immortal-born mischief”, he continued in a polite tone of voice, hoping that the Elders would not mind his asking questions, at least not too much. “Do you mean Mortalborn, the children of Immortals and mortals?” he asked, because he wanted to make sure that he understood that particular aspect of the story correctly.

“And have you ever heard of a place, a person or a being called Arkenstone?” he asked as his wondering about that seemed to have gotten overlooked next to all the other information.

“Is there anything we can do to prevent the joining of the two forces you mentioned, apart from acquiring whatever Eihr has?” he finally wanted to know and added, “I offer you my help, if you want it.” He did not mention how he might be able to help – the Elders were without a doubt aware of his skill as an alchemist. He simply fell silent and looked at the Elders and at Jasper, as he might have something to say as well.