Fable - Ask The Tides of Fate

[Kol]

The Dark Gods laughed.

It was a blood curdling and shrill laughter, so loud that Kol did not know how Rusva did not hear it. His fingers twitched for a brief moment, but the only expression that he showed was a slight tip of his head in a nod. He had warned her.

The Choice was hers. "It will hurt, at first."

It was never kind, experiencing the touch of the Dark God. Yet their healing was a blessing all it's own. Slowly Kol reached up, his hands raising to the side of hers. She would notice they were bare at first, and then suddenly a symbol, almost like a brand, crept unto his flesh.

The rune burned a bright glowing red, pulsing steadily. Then he slowly grasped her hand. She would feel her flesh sizzle, the ice within it melt and suddenly burnt away. Skin and muscle shifted, regrowing, twisting and forming into something new.

In an instant the curse that had afflicted her hands was burnt away, and something new was there. Her hands were not just healed, but better somehow, changed.

Whatever the price was, it had been paid.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá merely shrugged when Kol said it would hurt. If pain was something to deter her, she never would have become a Shield Maiden. She watched, curiously, as he brought his hands up, watching the markings appear on his skin and then begin to glow.

But when he grasped her hand, she couldn't help but hiss. The sensation brought an image to mind, that of a smith plunging red hot metal into water. She resisted the urge to pull away. Heat was always a strange thing to a Norden, difficult to bear, and this felt like her hands had been plunged into a forge-fire. Her face scrunched up in pain, but she didn't cry out even in the moment when it seemed her hands vaporized into nothingness and were then remade.

The heat and pain passed as suddenly as it had hit, and after just a moment she was gazing down on her hands, healthy and whole once more. The frostbite was gone, her fingers a healthy pink once more, and the cold numbness had been replaced with a soothing warmth. She laughed softly, in awe, as she flipped her hands over as she stretched and flexed her fingers, but this time without pain.

"Huh," she murmured, spotting something strange, and ran a finger along the underside of her left forefinger. She'd had a scar there, and her finger had been just slightly crooked from an incident with a trap one of the first times she'd gone out into the woods with her father. The scar was gone, and her finger was straight now.

"It's incredible," she said, looking up at Kol with a smile.

She took a moment, then, remembering what he'd said about the price to be paid, cataloguing how she felt. If she seemed different to herself at all. There was nothing she could pinpoint right away, though that in itself set a sense of unease growing within her.

She shook it off, for now, and looked back around the room, at the giant still frozen in place, and the altar, and the hammer. "Shall we continue on now?" she asked. "Or do we figure out what to do about that hammer?"

 

[Kol]

Kol had no idea what price Rusva had paid for the healing.

The magic he used was of the Dark Gods, but it did not work like it did with other Divines. He was a vessel, a herald, he could no more exert his will over the Dark Gods than a rock could hold back the tide of the ocean. Whatever they wanted, they had.

It was always that way. "We take it."

He told her as he lowered his own hands, glancing over towards the Frost Giant. It still struggled against the Blood Ward, clearly trying to escape even as it was held so firmly within the ice. He doubted it would ever escape, unless something else helped it.

Slowly he moved over towards the Altar.

"I do not know what it is." He admitted to her. "But I know it is a part of this place."

Which was enough reason to not leave it behind.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá followed Kol to the altar, carefully skirting around the Frost Giant, glancing up at it as she passed. Is it aware? she wondered. Is there something left of the original mind of this creature, or is it just enchantment now?

A spiteful gleam appeared in her eye for just a second as she glanced down at her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists, still a little in disbelief that they'd been fully restored. I hope it is aware, the thought crept in with barely a notice, the corner of her mouth momentarily curling up with a cruel twist. I hope it struggles, trapped, for a very long time. Then her brow furrowed, caught off guard just a moment before she shook the thought away and returned her attention to the matter at hand.

"I do not know what it is." He admitted to her. "But I know it is a part of this place."

"At the very least, it is a weapon," she said. "It would be foolish to leave it behind for another to bring and use against us."

She stooped down--though not far, since the altar was clearly constructed on a giant's standards and not human ones--looking it over. They'd already established that there weren't any visible traps or tripwires around the altar itself, but now she looked for anything suspicious around or beneath the hammer. So far as she could tell there was nothing, unless the altar itself hid something that would be triggered when the weight of the hammer was removed.

"I don't see anything obvious that is waiting for us to trip it," she said at last. "But the size of it alone will prove to cumbersome for us, regardless of the weight. And I will admit... I am hesitant to touch it, after..." she glanced down at her hands.

"What do you see?" she asked, looked back to Kol. "Or... sense?"

 

[Kol]

Kol looked at the hammer for a moment.

The weapon was well crafted, steel, or perhaps even something more than that. It was always difficult to tell when something was so old. He saw no marks, no runes that he could recognize. Yet there was no trip wire, no trap or any sort.

At least not beyond whatever had released the giant he and Ruvsa had trapped. "Nothing."

It was almost as if the tool had been set down here, a hammer left behind not for any reason, but because it was a good place to let it rest. Briefly he wished that he could read the runes, that he could gleam some sort of insight into what was written.

A breath filled his lungs, and after a moment he reached out.

His hand wrapped around the hilt of the hammer.

An odd pulse seemed to rush over them, rupturing the air briefly and pushing some of the frozen snow from the ice. The hammer seemed to shrink within his hand, a line of red flickering through the reaches of the runes before they stopped.

Slowly he looked at Ruvsa, dragging the hammer up. It was still large, but now fit into his hand as though it had been made for it.

 

[Ruvsá]

Kol wrapped his hand around the hammer, and the pulse through the air caught Ruvsá off guard, her breath stuttering for just a moment. She saw the red flickering light, watched--mouth nearly falling open--as the hammer shrunk.

When Kol looked at her again, clearly surprised, she just laughed softly and shook her head in disbelief. "Well... I guess that makes things easier. Better you than me, anyway. It'd be useless if I have to shift to Svalen again... but I wonder if it wouldn't shrink for me, anyway. It seems to me that this is crafted with magic, and perhaps it is reacting to your own."

While she wasn't entirely sure that she trusted Kol--especially not to watch her back, though at this point she didn't think he'd deliberately harm her--she was relieved that the hammer wasn't staying behind. Especially if it did transform to fit whatever person, or creature, laid hold of it.

"Shall we be off then?" she asked, nodding back toward the passageway that the frost giant seemed to now be guarding, with how he was trapped. "The sooner we continue, the sooner we'll... be through."

Hopefully, she thought. I would not like to meet my demise here. To never see the sun again.

 

[Kol]

He considered her for a moment, glancing back at the hammer, and then almost offering it to her to test the theory.

Was it his own magic? The Dark Gods? Or was it the hammer itself.

Finding it out would be simple enough, but he did not want to part with the weapon if he did not have to. Thus he only nodded his head when she asked her second question. The weight of his new weapon shifted in his palm, and he motioned towards where the Giant had come from. "That is our path."

Down.

Always down.

"Whatever created this place, it did not want us to go there." His free hand raised, and the ball of light that he had thrown at the giant snapped into place above his palm. The glow cast forward as he began to walk, stepping around the Giant.

"Tell me, @Ruvsá." Kol began as they moved towards the new tunnel. "Where are you from?"

 

[Ruvsá]

"This place was crafted for less cunning prey," Ruvsá agreed. "Though I fear that, at least in my case, the magic alone here would overcome me regardless of anything else."

Once past the giant, she fell into step beside Kol, with only one hesitant glance back over her shoulder as it faded from view. Hopefully, they would not see it again, unless it was on their way out of this place after releasing whatever enchantment held the fortress as a whole.

"Tell me, Ruvsá." Kol began as they moved towards the new tunnel. "Where are you from?"

"I grew up in Hjerim," she answered freely, doubtful that there was anything unsavory he could do with the information. "After I found my Svalen, I trained as a Shield Maiden there. I'm most recently of Indeholm, though. After I completed my training, I was approached by the former Jorn there with an offer to join his harem. I accepted, because Indeholm is known for raising boars and horses as steeds for the Nordenfiir, and I wanted one."

She laughed ruefully then. "I didn't know that he was plotting with Borvenir the Usurper to overthrow the late King, and then his granddaughter."

Ruvsá shoved those thoughts aside, though. That was over. She was free of the traitorous Jorn now, and while she was still a Shield Maiden of the Nordenfiir, to have her own personal freedom back was something she would not take for granted.

"You mentioned earlier that you'd met other Nordenfiir," she brought up a curiosity of her own. "Who have you encountered? What brought you to meet them?"

 

[Kol]

Kol raised an eyebrow, listening carefully to the politics she described.

The term 'harem' surprised him, if only because he'd thought the Bears more conservative than that. Relationships among his own people were...complicated things, not at all straightforward and most often not monogamous.

Love was rare within the Nordwiir. Their lands were harsh, the Gods difficult, and life was more often than not about survival rather than companionship. Even those who had been together for years often ended up betraying one another.

A cruel game to play with ones heart.

He paused for a moment. "I have met several of your kind, though only a handful of those interactions were peaceful."

The words were cryptic, but true.

"The Gods brought me south to find a stone that could transport me across the world." Kol explained to her. "It was during this quest that I met more of your people. A few greeted me warmly, others attempted to end my life almost as soon as they saw me."

He did not want to name Brenna, if only because he knew it could sully her name simply for associating with one of his kind.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá noted his surprise when she said 'harem', but wasn't taken aback by it. The Nordenfiir had long kept themselves apart from others, their actions almost xenophobic at times. If someone from outside the Nordens knew much about their culture, that would have been truly shocking.

"Nordenfiir are not monogamous by nature," she explained further, "though if one is part of a Jorn's or King's harem, there are obviously certain... restrictions, since you're expected to bear heirs for them. I'm sure there are some among the Norden who choose to devote themselves to only one other, but there are no formal expectations of such."

Ruvsá had often wondered what it was like in other cultures, especially when the Shield Maidens studied the lands to the south. The priests had always said that the Svalen was the representation of the Nordenfiir soul in its truest form, and while there was much about Norden culture that was human, there was just as much, if not more, that was animal-like.

"I have met several of your kind, though only a handful of those interactions were peaceful."

The words were cryptic, but true.

"The Gods brought me south to find a stone that could transport me across the world." Kol explained to her. "It was during this quest that I met more of your people. A few greeted me warmly, others attempted to end my life almost as soon as they saw me."

"There are many of the Nordenfiir yet who stick to the old ways, who think that outsiders are a dangerous threat to us and our way of life," Ruvsá spoke quietly. "The usurper was one of those, but the late King, and his granddaughter--the now-Queen Maude--believe that the Nordenfiir will find prosperity through open trade and alliance with others."

They continued walking, had been walking for quite some time, really. But there were no passageways that branched off so far. Just this one, slowly sloping downward into darkness, though it didn't seem like the shadows from before had returned. Yet. Ruvsá doubted they'd seen the last of them, though.

"Did you reach the portal stone?" she asked after a few moments. "My own journeys may take me there soon. Did you go through it? What was it like?"

 

[Kol]

He listened to every single word that rolled off her tongue.

Though the Nordenfiir and his people came from the same ancestors their paths had diverged significantly over the centuries. Their people were as different as could be culturally, and that became more and more clear as she spoke.

His head nodded every now and again, showing that he listened carefully. The Dark Gods seemed to grin wider as she spoke, as if they knew something that Kol did not.

It was an expression he was used to.

When she spoke of the 'Queen' Kol pursed his lips slightly. He mused, a hand coming up to gently scratching at his chin. He considered a moment, then noted the name before deciding to let it settle. Best not to press when you already had more than you wanted.

"I did." Kol said with a nod.

He frowned a moment, as if considering his answer.

"The South is...different." He would have called it 'weak', but then again most Nordwiir would have called the Nordenfiir the same. Not that Kol necessarily agreed. "They are softer, less worried about survival and more embroiled in their own little worlds."

There was a hint of disgust. "They take much for granted."

Too much.

 

[Ruvsá]

"It is a blessing, of sorts," Ruvsá murmured, "to be less worried about survival. But it does become a curse again eventually, when you forget what you need to survive extended hardships. The tundra certainly doesn't allow for that kind of forgetfulness."

She had no comment on Kol's veiled disgust. In her experience, everyone had something in their lives they took for granted. It would be hypocritical for her to comment on whatever excesses existed in the south when she hadn't even seen it for herself yet.

"What was it like traveling through the stone?" she asked, a little hesitantly. "It seems strange to me that you can just... touch a stone, and be transported across the world."

The passageway was becoming long and oppressive, though, and for a moment she wished that there was some magical way they could escape from the fortress. But she suspected that was beyond Kol's abilities.

"How long have we been trapped in here?" she wondered. "A few hours, at least? We should probably start keeping watch for someplace to rest. Someplace... smaller. Not as open."

 

[Kol]

"It was..." Describing the sensation of the Portal stones was difficult. "Different."

In truth he could hardly remember the travel itself. What he had seen was not what others saw, at least from what he'd managed to gather. The Dark Gods had looked upon him as he'd touched the stone, had shown him their world.

He did not truly understand it, had never even questioned it.

It was as thought he had slipped through the paths of the worlds and somehow been granted a view into the Abyss. The place where his gods lingered and did their works. It was there that he had seen them, witnessed them in the true form.

They had pulled him there, and for what seemed like weeks kept him in place until he had learned what they had wished to teach him. "Like stepping between worlds."

He said quietly.

Silence reigned for a few seconds after, and then slowly he looked over as Ruvsa spoke of rest. He perked an eyebrow, not remembering the last time he had slept but not wanting to rebuke her either.

A nod carried over his chin, and slowly as they kept going Kol kept an eye out. Eventually the cavern seemed to branch into a dozen different rooms, each one with heavy carved wooden doors.

"One of these, perhaps." He told her, noting that each appeared to be some sort of ancient dorm.

 

[Ruvsá]

Like stepping between worlds... Ruvsá silently pondered Kol's words for a while. There was definitely something he left unsaid about the experience, but it seemed more personal than anything else he'd said so far, and she didn't want to pry.

It wasn't long before the passageway opened up into a cavern, which she'd expected would happen again eventually, but the carved wooden doors were surprising.

"One of these, perhaps." He told her, noting that each appeared to be some sort of ancient dorm.

"Perhaps," she murmured, slowly moving from door to door, perusing several of them. The motifs and runes carved into them meant nothing to her, but still she investigated them. While the fortress still unnerved her as a whole, she couldn't deny that coming across this was fascinating.

"Do you think these are sleeping quarters?" she wondered aloud. "Or training rooms? I have no idea how to pick a door to open. It might be another trap like before..." But another thought sobered her. "Or maybe they're prison cells."

Though she had to admit she was incredibly curious to see what might lie behind a door, or even all of them. Perhaps they'd get some insight into whoever had built this fortress as well.

 

[Kol]

He looked around for a few moments, considering Ruvsa's words. She was an interesting one to be sure, always full of conjecture, always thinking ahead of the next step.

It was something he found himself doing, something he found himself wondering about. This fortress was strange. Old, but somehow...familiar. Had it been the Giant's who'd built it? Enslaving one of their own kind for eternity, or had it been someone else?

He lingered at one of the doorways. "Why don't we find out?"

Kol said as he raised his boot and slammed it into the door.

The heavy wood shook, and then the sound of a loud crack echoed through the empty hallway. The door gave way, and in one quick swoop revealed what could only be the inside of a dormitory.

There was a bed. A desk, and even what appeared to be a small carved chest.

"Answer the question?" The Sorcerer asked as he stepped inside, almost instantly drawn to the desk.

 

[Ruvsá]

"I'm not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed," Ruvsá laughed softly as waited a moment to make sure that there wasn't some sort of ambush awaiting them as Kol stepped inside the room. When nothing grabbed him or smashed him, she quickly followed him inside.

She took a moment and investigated the door knob. It didn't appear to lock from the outside, and she nodded satisfactorily, swinging the door closed behind them. "It'd be better for no one to realize we're in here," she explained. "All the other doors are shut, so this one should be as well."

When she turned back to the room, she noticed Kol's interest in the desk. "Do you see any candles or lanterns?" she asked. "Although if there's nothing to light them with, it doesn't really matter."

She turned her own attentions to the bed--completely made up--and the wooden chest. There was a layer of dust over everything, including the floor, but the room was strangely free of the ice and frost that was abundant in the rest of the fortress, except for right across the threshold. She patted the bed to test its firmness, grimaced slightly at the puff of dust she raised, and then turned her attention to the wooden chest.

Crouching before it, she ran her hands over the carved motifs. They were similar in style to the ones on the doors, but not like anything the Nordenfiir used. Her fingers hovered over the chest's latch, but she hesitated to open it.

"It feels almost like... this place is waiting for someone to return," she murmured. "Like whoever left was expecting to return imminently."

She set her fingers to the chest latch, surprised to find that it was not locked. The metal clicked under her fingers, and the lid was heaver than she anticipated as she lifted it up on creaking hinges and peered inside.

 

[Kol]

Kol nodded his head.

The assessment seemed accurate enough. There was something waiting in this emptiness, something that told a story of what was lost long ago. He wished briefly that he could read whatever tongue this was, but knew the price the Dark Gods would ask for that knowledge would be too high.

At least right now.

Slowly he stepped over towards the door, leaning the hammer against the frame to add some extra weight in case someone tried to step inside. Then slowly he made his way behind Ruvsa, looking down into the chest. "An army, perhaps."

He mused as she opened the chest fully. It was filled with clothes, a knife, several books.

"Marched from their hometo fight some threat, but did not win the battle." It seemed a logical enough explanation.

Slowly he crouched down, picking up one of the books and opening it up.

In the flap was a sketch, a man and a woman, each one dressed in ornate armor. Their faces and features were lithe, slim, and their ears came to a point. "Sul'yun."

Kol said, as if struck with a sudden realization. Elves of the Tundra, or once.

 

[Ruvsá]

"This place seems awfully luxurious for an army," Ruvsá observed. "Though perhaps... those in command? Or some group of elite warriors."

Kol crouched beside her, apparently distracted from the desk, and as he reached for a book, she reached for the knife. If whoever had inhabited this place went off to war and never came back... it was odd that a knife was left behind. The only reason she could think of were that it was extremely valuable, or ceremonial. At first glance, it was at least the former.

The hilt was gold, inlaid with opal, and a matching sheath encased the blade. The hilt settled easily in her palm. Ruvsá knew knives, how to handle them, and for all the gold she could see, this one was... strangely light. Grasping the sheath with her free hand, she slid it off, expecting to see a blade made of very fine steel. Instead, she found a black blade of carved obsidian.

"Definitely ceremonial..." she breathed softly, holding it up into the light. It glinted, and she noticed a run carved at the base of the blade. It seemed similar to some of what they'd seen in the fortress so far, but not quite the same. Carefully, so as not to mar the pristine edges of the glass, she replaced the sheath and gently set the knife down across the top of her legs, looking over at Kol as he spoke.

"Sul'yun."

Kol said, as if struck with a sudden realization.

"Sul'yun?" she repeated the strange word quietly, and leaned closer to see inside the book. When her eyes fell on the sketch, she couldn't help but admire the fine lines of the armor, though her gaze was drawn to their pointed ears as well.

"I've heard stories of a secret city of elves," she quietly mused. "Hidden in a valley enshrouded by magic in the tundra. Perhaps there is more truth to it than simply myth."

She glanced at the desk, the bed. If this had been an elven fortress once, it would explain at least why these chambers were less giantish. More normal sized. But not as much about the passageways and caverns outside.

"I wonder if this fortress belonged to the giants or the elves first," Ruvsá pondered. "Did the giants build it, and the elves moved in afterward, or did the elves build it for the purpose of... controlling the giants?"

 

[Kol]

"The Elves." He said quietly. "That would be my guess."

Just from how the structure was built. It was grand, but elegant in a way, smaller than he would guess for the giants. A frown touched his lips for a brief moment, considering all that they had seen.

Frost Giant's were not known for their kindness, nor their mercy. Perhaps they had taken this place afterward, isolated it upon this island. Though that did not explain the Draugr that they had encountered. Was some remnant of the Sul'Yun still here? Some ancient shade that was lost to time?

Lips thinned.

"I think perhaps...we are missing something." He glanced down at the book, looking at the letters.

It was a journal of some sort, that much was clear, but what it said Kol could not even have begun to guess.

"Get some rest." He told Rusva. "We will have to go deeper before we understand."

If this place had been built to control the Giants then why had their only been one? Had the rest broken free? Had control been lost and that was why this place was empty? Or had only one man returned from the battle they had lost.

Desperate to hold onto his peoples Kingdom, their memory?

The Dark Gods laughed in their taunting.

 

[Ruvsá]

"I think perhaps...we are missing something." He glanced down at the book, looking at the letters.

"I agree," Ruvsá said, glancing again at the book he held. "But we're working with far too little information. It's nearly impossible to make any accurate speculations with what we know so far."

"Get some rest." He told Rusva. "We will have to go deeper before we understand."

She nodded, plucking the knife from her lap as she eyed the bed. She wasn't necessarily sleepy, but her years of training as a shield maiden had taught her that you rested when the opportunity was available, because it might be some time before the opportunity came again.

The bed was... dusty, though. She folded the top layer back, and dubiously eyed the pillows before deciding to set them aside altogether. Who knew what might have been living in them over the long, long years.

She climbed onto the bed, not bothering to remove her boots in case they were caught off guard by something, and leaned back against the headboard for the time being, legs stretched out in front of her. Cradling the ornate knife in her hands, she watched the opals on it glint, colors shift slightly in the light. I wonder what its original purpose was, she thought, then pushed her wonderings aside.

She doubted she would be able to sleep, but even so she leaned her head back and closed her eyes for a while.

If we're here much longer, she thought, we'll need to start worrying about food and water. Especially water.

"You should rest too," Ruvsá murmured to Kol at some point, "even if you don't sleep. Who knows when we'll get the chance again."

 

[Kol]

Kol sat himself down on the opposite end of the room from her, deciding that it was likely best if he was far away from her.

He knew that she did not trust him, though perhaps that was beginning to change. Either way it was best not to push it, and so he simply sat himself down with the small journal like book. The door was to his left, close enough that he could stop anything that tried to make it's way through.

In theory. "I will do what I can."

The Sorcerer said, knowing that sleep would not come. It had not come in a decade, and he knew that the Dark Gods would not allow it now. They were already whispering, speaking to him, but there was opportunity in those words.

Understanding.

It was something he had noticed many years ago, hidden within the whispers. The Dark Gods were thought to be a manifestation of chaos, a complete abyss that had no rhyme, reason, or knowledge aside from things of the dark.

Kol knew better though. Hidden within the depths, among the chaotic screams and calls for blood...there was knowledge. One just had to listen.

His eyes closed. "Rest well, cousin."

The Sorcerer said as he began to listen for the voice he needed.

 

[Ruvsá]

Silence fell. Ruvsá reached up and unclasped her cloak, then slid down the bed to lie on her side, draping the cloak over her. She cushioned her head on one arm, the knife from the trunk clasped lightly in her opposite hand, less because she thought Kol might use it against her and more because she didn't want it to fall behind the bed. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes again.

Her mind was whirling as she tried to rest. She was used to this, especially in tense situations where she had to be on guard the entire time, to some extent. If this had been a place that housed warriors, whether an army or an elite group, then there had to be a water source. This deep underground, it was likely within the fortress. So long as it wasn't frozen over or dried up, as long as they could find it, they could use it.

Food, on the other hand... she wouldn't dream of touching anything they found here. If they found any. It had either all rotted away, if this place was as ancient as she suspected, or it was under some spell. But food was... not urgent matter. Water would be, imminently.

Eventually, her mind calmed and turned to stillness. She was never quite sure what would push her from that moment where her thoughts multiplied and stacked on each other into sudden, peaceful quiet, but it always came.

She didn't truly sleep, but she dozed, often finding herself in that strange hazy awareness between waking and sleeping where everything around her was amplified and the passage of time was fluid and unreliable, though here in this room there was very little for her senses to latch onto. Her own breath and heartbeat. Kol's breath and heartbeat. But otherwise, not even a whisper of air nor the squeak of a rodent, not a sound... unless she found herself slipping dangerously close to sleep, and then she would almost hear something. Something like disembodied voices, with words and harsh laughter she couldn't quite make out, but they would vanish as soon as she actually tried to listen.

From time to time, she would rouse a little, shifting her position if her neck started to ache or her arm started to tingle with numbness. Sometimes her eyes would flutter open for a few moments, and she would look over at Kol, studying his face and his form, entirely unsure of what to make of him. There was a harsh hardness about him, but it seemed to her to be something shaped of the desperate want to survive more than anything else, and in some ways she could identify with that. She'd just also been fortunate to have people--family, community--who nurtured her in other ways as well.

Perhaps I'm trying too hard, she thought in one of those moments. The last man who seemed trustworthy and reliable, in appearance and manner, turned out to be anything but. Kol, at least, while hiding things has not outright lied to me that I can tell. And he didn't have to offer to heal my hands.

 

[Kol]

Kol didn't move for the time that they rested.

He did not open his eyes. He did not budge. He barely even breathed. His concentration was fully upon the voices that ran through his head, the words that they spoke, the languages that streamed through his consciousness in a slow cacophony of voices.

Some were familiar. Some were foreign.

The Dark Gods were loud, raucous, but he had learned to drown them out early on in his life. Filtering through them was never easy, never simple. His eyes seemed to move and shift behind his lids, looking, searching for something.

Until he heard the echo he'd been looking for.

It was barely there, barely audible, but it was there.

A smile touched his face, perhaps minutes or perhaps hours after he closed his eyes. The Voice he had been looking for still spoke, whispered to him and told him the answers that he sought. Kol listened carefully, he listened and learned.

 

[Ruvsá]

A priest in silent prayer, Ruvsá thought in one of the alert moments when she watched Kol. That is what he reminds me of.

When she next stirred to wakefulness, there was a smile on Kol's face, but his eyes were still closed and he still sat unmoving. It was different than the other smiles he'd offered so far--one challenging, another bemused and slightly patronizing. This smile was one of eager satisfaction, and she suspected that he was communing with his gods, learning something from them that would hopefully aid them in their escape from this cursed place.

It looked good on him. A smile of her own teased over her lips, and she yawned and stretched on the bed before flopping onto her stomach and resting her chin on her stacked hands. Short of an actual full night of sleep--which would likely not happen until they were out of the fortress--she doubted she would be able to rest more right at that moment. If she had to guess, they'd been resting for at least a few hours. Maybe a little longer.

Whatever Kol was doing, though, he clearly wasn't finished yet, and so she just watched and waited.

 

[Kol]

Kol's eyes snapped open.

It was so quick, so sudden, that one might almost think that he had been stabbed or attacked. A shudder ran through his body, goosebumps rolling over his scarred and broken flesh as he pulled himself back together. A deep breath filled his lungs.

Then slowly, just a heartbeat later, he released it.

He had listened to the voice.

It had been a quiet, almost meek thing. Nearly lost in the cacophony of screaming laughter that the Dark Gods were so known for. Yet after listening for hours he had found it, heard it's call. There, within that whisper, he had found what he'd wanted.

"Are you rested?" Kol asked as he looked down at the journal still resting in his lap.

He still did not know the language, could not read it, at least not natively, but he had glimpsed some knowledge of what had been lost.

It would be enough for now.