Open Chronicles Blessings of Light

[Leon Vargas]

Amol Kalit - South Desert

It had been a week now since they'd taken him.

Three days since he'd slaughtered the lot.

His skin was starting to burn, his lips were cracked, and he knew what little water he had left wouldn't last him much longer within the desert. A part of him wished that he had taken more things from the heretics camp, wished that he'd spent more time scrounging through the corpses, but all he'd thought of at the time was to get away.

Leon had found himself the victim of a kidnapping attempt, taken by a group of rebels from the city of Valtha who intended to sell him somewhere in the desert. For what purpose he did not know, though he suspected it had to do with the accursed apostates who made their home in this new 'Empire of the Sand'. His captors had taunted him for days, poked at him with sticks and doused him in oil. A threat of fire had been made, but the torch never came to his soaked skin.

On the fourth day the Bright Lord had finally blessed him. One of the fools and left himself open, and the Inquisitor had managed to snap his neck.

Freedom had been costly.

A wound festered in his side, wrapped with a torn cloth and now slowly beginning to turn color. Leon recognized the infection, but there was nothing to be done.

So he kept walking, slowly trudging through the desert as he searched for a sign of life.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct had been wandering the Amol-Khalit desert for twelve days, or at least twelve passings of the sun. Normally the Construct didn't bother with clothing, as it's metal skin protected it well enough, but the blowing sands chipped away at it's skin akin to a death from a thousand cuts. Upon finding the first town in the desert, truly nothing more than a collection of huts, the Construct realized the value of food and water. It took a couple days, but the Construct managed to squeeze water out of cacti and hunt down a therak lizard, a small creature that seemed to be edible by the non-metals, and traded those for protective gear.

Since then the Construct made of habit of killing and drying the smaller creatures it found, and siphoning whatever water it stumbled across for barter. The Construct was headed for the Fobidden City, and any supplies it could gather would help on the long trip. Thus far the Construct had acquired a nice rope, an abtati dagger, and a well made flint to start a fire. Not quite riches, but tools that would show their value in the trip.

Up ahead the Construct spotted the shape of a humanoid. A trader? No, it didn't seem to carry much. The creature walked slowly, as if damaged or fatigued. It was strange for it to walk alone, nearly all the wanderers the Construct had seem took a small caravan. Easier to put supplies on a horse for a group than a single man carry for himself. Perhaps the creature had lost it's caravan? The construct made it's way towards Leon Vargas, who would see a heavily clothed figure with shining blue eyes approach it.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon's feet began to feel heavier.

The sand seemed to pull him in, the grains falling with every step. Walking became more and more difficult, and he could slowly begin to see himself slipping away. Sweat beaded on his brow, slowly dripping down into his eyes.

A lax hand came up, wiping away the sting. His eyes opened, shifting and staring through the blur of heat and burning sun.

Then he saw something.

A person?

A flash of light reflected from their skin, and onto the Inquisitor. Armor. It had to be. Why would someone wear armor in this accursed heat? Was he hallucinating? Was the Bright Lord sending him a vision? A display of the light itself?

"H-he-" Leon tried to speak, but found his throat too try to echo any more than a simple croak. It was all he could do not to collapse.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct continued walking, and found the creature, no, the man, walk closer to it. The man was not a merchant, and hardly looked a traveler either. He carried little and wore a piecemeal assembly of clothes that looked haphazardly assembled from different sources. The most striking was a loose cloth tied to the man's side. It appeared to soaked with . . . was that blood or puss? The Construct could not tell, basic biology being beyond it's knowledge. It could tell however, it was not good.

Then the man let out a cry, just barely audible. The Construct couldn't make out the words. It wasn't sure if the man actually spoke a full word, let alone a sentence. He was dying, perhaps from multiple sources. The Construct was no doctor, but it did understand the need for water and food.

"Don't exert yourself." The Construct spoke to Leon Vargas. The Inquisitor would recognize that the voice was wrong somehow. Created rather than echoing through the vocal chords. "Here, some water." The Construct held a wineskin of water up to the Inquisitor's chest. The water would quench his thirst, but also have the faint taste of cactus within it.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Thank you, Bright Lord. The thought rushed through his mind as his lord delivered a savior.

Almost greedily Leon snapped up the waterskin as fast as he could. With the desperation of a dying man the Inquisitor began to gulp down the liquid, not caring if it was made from cactus or piss. The quench of his throat was near ecstasy.

Elation and sudden joy washed over him, his eyes closing as he collapsed onto his knees in the sand. His fingers gripped the waterskin tightly, and he looked up at the armored man. "Thank you, kind stranger."

The words were a bare rasp, his voice still all but destroyed.

Only when he looked up did he recall the mans strange voice, the odd appearance of his armor being more than eye catching. There was something...off about this man.

 

[The Construct]

The man snatched the skin with surprising quickness, and eagerly chugged the water. If the Construct were a person, perhaps it would have told the man to slow down, but the Construct didn't know how things like water and the skinned actually worked.

"You're welcome." The Construct recalled the proper manners for such an interaction. It had learned a few things while stuck as an experiment in Elbion.

"Food?" The Construct offered a piece of jerky it had made from a therak lizard. It would taste akin to chicken, but a bit tougher and less flavorful. Perhaps that was a property of the meat, or perhaps the Construct simply didn't know how to cook properly.

"Why are you alone?" The Construct asked Leon Vargas. "Are you in danger?" It asked, wondering if Vargas had been attacked by a caravan or the Empire. It knew these parts were treacherous, and wanted to be prepared.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon took the piece of Jerky, though more carefully than he had taken the skin of water.

The Bright Lord could suffer him through hunger pangs, but thirst was not something that he could manage through. Not in the desert. "No danger, not anymore."

The Inquisitor croaked out.

For the first time he took in the sight of his savior. The man wore a thick carapace of armor, steel, yet there was a hollowness to his voice that even those who more full plate did not have. That was not the only oddity though. Even in the sun Leon could not spot the mans eyes.

In fact there seemed to be a subtle glow forming within the helmet itself.

"Who..." He trailed off, narrowing his gaze. "Who are you?"

 

[The Construct]

The Construct noted that the man took the piece of jerky, but did not eat. Lack of hunger? Perhaps the meat was not prepared properly? The Construct thought on it, then doubted it. It had traded with others who had no qualms with eating the meat. Why did this man show reservations?

The Inquisitor said there wasn't danger 'anymore'. The Construct wondered if that meant the threats were lost, or dealt with.

"That is a difficult question. I do not have a name, but I have been called The Construct, The Experiment, and The Mistake. " The Construct had also once been called Maester Faust, but that was an error. The Construct was not it's creator.

"I travel to the Forbidden City, in hopes of finding the work of a scholar who went to study there." The Construct said, then looked to Leon Vargas's side.

"You're damaged."

 

[Leon Vargas]

If any semblance of energy remained inside of him Leon would have jumped away and declared the thing a heretical creation that needed to be destroyed. Yet all that he could muster was a look of utter confusion hinted with disgust.

Why would the Bright Lord send something like this to save him?

Something that had been created through foul magics. That was after all what the being was. Leon was educated enough to know the words the creature spoke, and though the tenants of the Church did not speak of unliving beings of metal...it did speak of returning the dead and the sin intertwined with such things.

Was this the same?

Confusion wracked him. "I don't understand."

Leon said ignoring the Golems statements.

"Are you forsaken? Was your soul placed into this..." He gestured towards the body. "Form. Returned for the dead?"

The idea that a golem could simply be created from nothing simply did not occur to Leon.

 

[The Construct]

Forsaken. A strong word. The man had essentially asked if he was a curse. A monster. The Construct might have been offended, if it did not have similar questions.

"A dwarvish Maester at Elbion sculpted my frame to house his soul, as a way to avoid his end of days." The Construct explained. "But nature abhors loopholes, and the process killed him. Afterwards I could move. Reason." The Construct paused for a moment, in thought.

"I do not know if I had a soul before I awoke, or if I gained one at the Maester's ritual. I do know I am not the dwarf, and I think." The Construct concluded. "But we should speak of such things later. Your injuries should be tended to." The Construct began rummaging through a pack, looking for any herbs that might help Leon Vargas's position.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon frowned, entirely unsure of what to think of that.

The construct had been honest, at least seemingly. He was a product of magic, foul magics at that. The prolonging of ones life was against the scriptures of the Church. Gods embrace was not osmething to be fled from, not something you could deny.

Yet this creature was evidently not the dwarf that had created it. What did the Bright Lord think of that?

Doubt crept into his mind.

Why would God have sent this creature to save him if he was supposed to destroy it? What was he supposed to do? What would his father do? Lips thinned, and he briefly looked down at his hands. They trembled, though he was not sure if it was because of his wounds.

"Alright." Leon agreed silently, still not quite sure of himself.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct looked through the package as the man agreed to treatment, and staved off his curious mind for the moment. The Construct had gathered tumbleweeds, cactus flowers, and whatever else he could get his hands on.

"A trader once told me that the local elves make a healing salve by grinding the flesh of a cactus root, the petals of desert sage, and the stem of a white lily." It said, cupping the ingredients in his left hand. "As it happens, I've never needed to test it." The Construct took the knuckle from it's right pointer and middle fingers and used it to ground up the ingredients in his left hand. It was a poor imitation for a mortar and pestle, but it would have to do.

In a few moments something akin to a green paste had formed. The Construct held it towards Leon Vargas. "My hands are warm. Imprecise. It may be better for you to apply it." The Construct advised. His metal hands soaked up the desert's heat, and might not be the best on the man's wounded skin.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon served God in all ways, but that did not make him an uneducated nitwit. Unlike some other religions, the followers of the Bright Lord did not abhor science or medicine. The Radiant Church recognized science for what it was; a gift from the Lord.

A way man could further itself. As long as they did not go too far of course.

The inquisitor just wasn't sure if this monstrosity was too far. Still, when offered the medicine, Leon gently grabbed it and offered another rasped 'Thank you' before applying the paste to his wounds.

As he worked Leon looked up at the creature.

"Do you know where we are?" He asked. "I was carried far before I managed to break free."

 

[The Construct]

The stranger took the paste and began applying to his wounds. It didn't seem to be causing him any further damage. The Construct had observed that the fleshlings would tremble if something was correct. Their faces would scrunch together in an odd expression. Perhaps this fleshling had more metal in his bones than the others, or perhaps the sand-elves knew something of how to keep themselves together. The Construct hoped it was the latter.

"I have traveled north from Tel-Madu for the last six days I don't have to rest as you do, but I do stop every once in a while to gather supplies as I find them. Herbs, water, therak lizards. Anything I believe I can trade." The Construct informed Leon Vargas of his journey. It wasn't precise, but the Construct didn't have a map of the dunes.

"I expect to be in the territory of the Empire any day now. I haven't seen their patrols yet, but I've heard their reach extends around Annaukat and Mamsis." The blue lights of the Construct's eyes looked at the Inquisitor.

"Did you break free from them?"

 

[Leon Vargas]

Tel Madu?

Leon had absolutely no idea where that was, though The Empire within the Sands was known to nearly everyone in Cortos.

They were heretics of the worst sort.

It was said that in the Empire they worshiped not only a pantheon of gods, but a living being who had claimed to be some sort of walking deity. The very idea of such a thing was enough to make him want to wretch. The Bright Lord would see them all burned to ash. "I do not know."

Leon answered.

"I was captured in Cortos, dragged into the desert to be sold as a slave." He frowned for a moment, then added. "I am a priest of the Radiant Church."

Technically he was much more than that, but this...thing didn't need to know just yet.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct noted that the human's expression didn't change as it explained it's rough position. Perhaps he was lost. The Construct had learned that was not uncommon in amol kalit. It was also supposed to be very deadly.

"A Priest?" The Construct asked. "What should I call you?" It pressed. In the Constructs experienced nobles, clergy, and the Maesters of Elbion all became greatly offended if they were not referred to by their given title. In fact, the only fleshlings the Construct had met that didn't seem pushy about titles were those who did not possess one. Perhaps they were worth something, but the Construct could not determine what.

"As for Cortos, it is the island underneath the Amol Kalit, correct? I had to cross a river that went to it. I believe it was a five days walk from Tel Madu." The Construct tried to recall anything that might be of some significance to the priest Leon Vargas.

 

[Leon Vargas]

"Leon will do for the one who rescued me." If he titled himself 'Father' it would have been a lie, and even if this thing was forged of metal...lying was still a sin.

Some back in the Church would have argued that even omission was a lie, but the other Inquisitors had long ago taught him that it was sometimes important in their line of work to not grant every detail. Especially when Heretics were involved.

He was still unsure of what this creature was, if it even had a soul that needed to be saved. It had saved his life though, and he was sure that was the work of God.

"Five days." He glanced back through the desert. "Do you know the way back?"

There was a nervousness he could not keep from his tone. "I do not think I would be welcome in Amol-Kalit."

 

[The Construct]

"Very well Leon." The Construct replied, intrigued that the priest had decided to forgo more a grandiose title. Perhaps it was a priest in training, not yet granted a title? Or perhaps the Radiant Church was less stringent on such things? The Construct also considered the possibility that the title 'Father' meant the priest was literally the father of all he spoke to, and that Leon Vargas had not sired him.

That seemed the most likely possibility.

"Very roughly." The Construct admitted. It looked up at the sun, taking stock of it's position in the sky. "I could get back to the river traveling, but the dunes are sparse in their landmarks. It is easy to get turned around and lost, especially in the event of a sandstorm." The Construct thought for a moment. Getting to Tel-Madu, then the river would take nearly two weeks, then two weeks to get back to where it was now. A month's delay on his journey would be costly, but how costly?

"There is a dune two miles south of here. We will set up camp there, so you may rest. Then we will travel in the morning."

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon nodded.

The Church had prepared him well for survival in the desert, but most of what it required could only be done when not injured. The wound in his leg would remain for weeks yet, that plus the state he had been put in would last for some time yet.

Traveling with the Construct would be much easier than attempting to trudge back through the desert on his own. It was why the Bright Lord had sent him, Leon was sure of it.

He paused for a moment.

"The Scholar you were looking for." Leon asked. "What was he researching?"

The Radiant Church did not look kindly on certain aspects of...research, but neither did they ban it outright. God looked upon science as a way of advancing civilization, provided it was the right kind of advancement of course.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct lead Leon towards the dune, hoping it's size would provide them some shade. It wasn't sure how the heat affected the fleshlings, but considering how all the locals at Tel Madu covered themselves from head to toe, it was sure they didn't prefer exposure to the elements.

"She actually." The Construct responded to Leon Vargas's question. "Jenna Whul was a Maester at Elbion who was obsessed with the land. Soil, grass, mountains, sands, all of it. She gained a reputation as 'The Cartographer', as she made maps in intricate detail, accounting for the elevation and terrain in ways few others captured. She aimed to map the Forbidden City, and I fear it was her undoing." The Construct explained.

"She created an artifact the college referred to as 'The Cartographer's Quill'. A feather pen which, when fueled by a certain ritual, allows the user to draw a map towards that which they desire." The Construct told the priest of the Quill's talent. It was an artifact of powerful utility, but was ultimately only the means for the Construct to find what it was truly after.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon frowned. He had heard of such magic items before, the Radiant Church even utilized a few similar ones.

It was said that the Archdioses of Torleon had an ever changing map that showed the movement of large groups of people all over Cortos. Leon himself had never seen it, but he doubted that such a rumor was unfounded.

No one would slander the Archbishop. "I see."

He frowned for a brief moment.

"Does it..." There was a slight hint of hesitation on his face. "Can it show you what you would desire?"

An oddly vulnerable question from the Inquisitor.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct continued on, as the priest asked a question. And an odd question at that. What you would desire. Did the priest not know what he wanted? Was there no personal desire to pursue his sacred text?

"I do not know." The Construct answered honestly. "But I have heard it sometimes leads to unexpected results. There is a story of a man who aimed the use the Quill to seek a great treasure, that he would use to buy his children out of slavery. Instead he followed it, and found exactly where his children were being held. He then hired a few sellswords and broke them out of their chains."

The Construct paused a moment, taking a second to glance at the Priest's eyes. "I do not know if the story if true, but it is possible the Quill may pull from deeper desires than a man understands within himself." The Construct reasoned. It was not the same thing, but perhaps it would be useful for Leon Vargas.

 

[Leon Vargas]

Leon thought for a moment. He knew his path, he knew that God loved him and would show him the way, but that didn't mean there were no questions.

The young Inquisitor had been a ward of the Church all of his life. He had never known his parents, had never known where he came from. He was of Cortos, of the Church, but beyond that? Everything else was a mystery.

One that he had always wanted to solve.

Was this God showing him a path? Was he being show how he could find out who he was? What he really was. The Bright Lord worked in mysterious ways, and he had to believe this was a chance. "I would like to accompany you on your quest."

He paused.

"I promise I am more helpful when fully healed." Leon was a warrior after all, not just a priest.

 

[The Construct]

The Construct continued on the path, as the Priest asked to accompany the Construct on his journey. This the Construct was not expecting an offer of aid. It didn't quite know how to respond.

"I am surprised by your offer." The Construct replied. "I shall think on it, and we shall speak of it when we make camp." It offered. The human presented logistical issues. The Construct did not need to eat, sleep or drink; but the fleshling most certainly had to. That was not to say the Priest couldn't be useful, as the Construct had found it was ignorant in several of the ways of the world, but it would certainly cost the Construct time. The Construct knew time was valuable, but it did not know if it had time to spare.

In short time duo would arrive at the dune, a simple hill of sand that might hope to hide them from the elements for the night. The Construct pulled out a few sticks and cloth and began making a primitive shelter.

"The Forbidden City is deep in the territory of the Empire. If you wish to accompany me I would be grateful, but I fear the trip may be dangerous for you." The Construct warned Leon Vargas. The invitation didn't make sense to the Construct, but it made it anyways. If it had better understanding of emotions it might have realized that trekking the sands alone was not only dangerous, but lonely.

 

[Leon Vargas]

As he watched the Construct Leon couldn't help but think that God most have somehow hand a hand in it's creation.

The Bright Lord had created all life, whether it be human, elf, or even Dwarves. Many would deny that of course, heretics and fools who thought themselves better. Yet there was no denying that the spark of a soul came from God.

It was only reasonable that this creatures soul came from the same place.

When the Construct spoke to him again Leon couldn't help but smile slightly. "Thank you."

He began at first, though stopped himself before he said any more. Consternation crossed his features, and briefly he thought about the conundrum.

"I can change my clothes." He would need new ones anyway. "But...this is something I need to do."

God had laid this opportunity bare before him, he had to take it.