[NoR] - [13] - Not an Option

Leaves seem to evade the elves’ feet, instead crunching under the plodding of the captors dragged behind. They stopped at a trunk of moderate size and kicked it firmly, signaling the operator higher up to grab the winch and go to work. From ground level, the village was nearly invisible. Tall trunks stretched into the canopy above, with occasional breaks streaking light to those below. A pulley creaked quietly overhead as the small lift crept closer and closer, colliding with a sad clunk against the roots beneath. The hunting party filed into it with vigor, ascending to their retreat while the Planeswalkers were left with the captain and a guard. Their ears twitched subtly, implying awareness of things Sudaj couldn’t begin to notice and of which Razel was already over with.

Razel took in the captors. They were built atop a solid humanoid frame, used to a life of hunting and climbing. The leader, as well as all the warriors, had multiple braids woven into their hair, with less braids indicating higher rank. The Leader’s three braids, one per side and one atop, swept back with his ears. The Guard watched them as the creaking stopped and began to reverse. The restraints placed around the Planeswalkers’ wrists were a brilliant topaz, outshining the midday light. Sudaj looked about himself in awe, taking in the full extent of the scenery. Razel simply scowled.

As the lift descended again, the captain spoke to his captives.

“We’ll be taking you to see our shaman. He will decide our course of action from there.”

Sudaj piped in.

“What are our options?”

“Well, either we’ll kill you or he’ll have us send you after the beast in the woods, which will probably kill you.”

Sudaj joined Razel in scowling.

The trees grew high into the air, a drop that would kill most things forcing several vines to be lowered from the supports above to allow the Elves quick access to a survivable fall. Like emerging from under a body of water, the lift broke through the floor level, revealing a vast network of structures built onto the very trunks of the trees around them, joined by occasional platforms, bridges, and pathways to create a grand village in the air. A central rotunda sat atop a cleared trunk, leveled with the floor to allow a clearing in the space above, illuminating most of the village. The locals watched the two ‘walkers uncomfortably as they were shuffled towards the town hall, their trademark elvish xenophobia manifesting brilliantly for the guests. The guards tugged them to a stop before they began to cross the bridge to the building, while the Captain turned to speak again.

“We’ll take you to see him one at a time. I want to make sure nothing happens while I am away. We all have magical weaponry here, so don’t think you’re free. You-”

He snagged Sudaj’s manacles.

 “-I’m taking you first. Come with me.”

Razel shrugged an apathetic affirmation as his companion was dragged off, disappearing behind the red curtain in a wisp of incense and smoke. Turning to the remaining Guard, he took the opportunity to needle his captor for amusement.

“So…come here often?”

After mastering the basics of leaving a plane, I found teleportation within a single space to be that much easier. Learning the harder questions made the easier ones more obvious, so it was only natural. Rokh seemed just as pleased with my progress as I was. He eventually led me to a different room through two sets of doors, which I now knew to mean that we were within no semblance of proximity to the room before. The literally unimaginable distances involved allowed the next part of my training to begin far away from a functioning Planar well.

“Next lesson... Going somewhere. You’ve got the gist of going nowhere first, but by learning to direct yourself you will learn both how to do it properly and how to track it.”

By this time I mostly ignored his phrasing. I was used to him implying things I wasn’t sure I wanted to know yet.

“So now I want you to step out of this place and feel around yourself for a beacon, a pulse, some sort of draw. There’s really no better way to describe it – You’ll know. Just trust me on that. You go first and I’ll follow you.”

I left the forgettable chamber and stepped into the seething maelstrom of the eternities. I kept my eyes open, knowing not to trust anything they told me. My traditional sense of direction is worthless there. The basics don’t apply, and directions I can’t begin to articulate were preferred to our usual six. I bobbed about until I felt it – a definite beacon, a flare of power within the space between spaces. I was acutely aware of it regardless of my orientation, and it was as a lighthouse suspended within a storm. I reached out to it mentally, only to find myself quickly shunted into its host reality. The monolith was etched with countless initials, and the trodden grass around it implied heavy traffic. I surmised that this ground must have been used to train considerably more ‘walkers than just myself. As I had reached out to touch the stone, Rokh appeared behind me, immediately breaking out in excitable chatter.

“Very well done! Quick, simple, you didn’t waste ANY time or effort! Very efficient, I like it. A little easy to track, but you already show enough control that we can fix that.”

I think it took him a minute to realize I wasn’t going to respond. He had then pulled a small chisel from his pockets and handed it to me, motioning to the stone.

“Go for it. We all carve our initials after our first ‘walk.” He gestured at a set of characters a few feet from the top. “See? There’s mine. There’s my trainer. There’s that white mage you stomped last week.”

I managed to understand the sounds they were meant to make, and a brief image of those who carved them flashed in my mind as I looked them over. I took the implements and etched a “KX” in a small space free of graffiti, focusing on myself and my achievement so as not to make Rokh question the shape of my letters. I didn’t want him to ask me anything too personal, and I knew he had the same magical enhancements I did thanks to the Academy.

A benefit of omniversal speech is that it translates intent as opposed to literal words, making a significantly more accurate translation than otherwise. This has actually backfired on me in the past when I would miss colloquialisms or local turns of phrase, instead being brutally honest about everything. Not always a good thing, especially when you’re attempting political intrigue and all the subtlety is lost to you. Sometimes the problem goes the other way, and something comes across as so layered with meaning that you are incapable of deciphering it regardless. Either way, while it’s not a perfect spell, it certainly has its uses.

A shuffling inside the hall silenced the two outside, and shortly thereafter Sudaj stepped out smiling, with no restraints on him. He smiled at Razel as he passed, saying nothing and standing by the guard. The captain stuck his head out and motioned for Razel to come inside, prompting the guard to jab him in the ribs in an attempt to hurry him along. The scowl returned as he trodded along the suspended bridge and through the curtain, a strong herbal aroma completely wiping the fresh scent of the forest from his nose. The captain led him down a spiraling hall to a suspended partition, motioned him through it, and then returned to his post atop the stairwell. Razel stepped from the plain wooden hallway into the circular room, the windows carved out of the walls allowing a pristine view of the forest beneath the village from all sides of the supporting trunk. The walls held trophies of various kinds, some mere skulls mounted to the wall, some less biological but revered just as much. A single Shaman sat at the far side of the room, breathing deeply of the aromatics as he looked over the arrival.

“You are not from here.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

“…yes. I’m from rather far away.”

“You know that is not what I mean.”

Razel checked the stairwell again, making sure the captain was well out of earshot before meandering towards the Shaman.

“And what, precisely, do you mean?”

“The people here may not openly embrace the dramatic magics you are used to, but we are not disparate from our home. I have engaged in Astral travel almost daily since I was old enough to be admitted into the shaman’s residence, and I have learned many things while outside of my physical body. I learned of Planeswalkers rather quickly the first time something mistook me for one.”

The atmosphere in the room dropped as Razel straightened up, immediately returning to a serious demeanor.

“So what did you say to my compatriot out there?”

“Show me something.”

“What? No, I’m not –“

“No, that is what I told him. To show me something. He provided an example of his Magic, and I judged him accordingly. He is new, but has potential. He simply needs to be taught by someone with experience.”

Razel narrowed his eyes.

“So what do you want from me?”

“I understand your friend. I do not understand you. Even from his descriptions, it is as if he barely knows you. Yet you are spoken of as one would describe a great hunt many eons ago. A fond memory.”

The silence sat as the Shaman’s prying eyes roved over Razel, the quiet broken by a loud click as the handcuffs fell from his wrists to tumble to the floor.

“You and your friend are to leave this village. Immediately. More than likely, the creature in the woods will kill you. If you try to come back and the creature still lives, we will kill you. If you return with its carcass…we will reconsider.”

Razel rubbed his wrists out of habit, responding curtly out of a forced courtesy to hide his loathing of commands.

“Tell me about it. What does it do? Where was it seen? I could use more information that just ‘the thing on the woods’. You’re a thing in the woods, for all I care. Give me specifics.”

“It steals our children at night, usually one every new moon. Otherwise, any of our tribesmen that end up too deep in the forest or too near the ruins disappear, never to be seen again.”

“What does it look like? Anything other than kidnappings, or…?”

“As I had said – nobody who sees it returns to tell us about it. We know literally all I have told you. This thing has tormented our village for years now. We are few in number, and a continual pruning of our herd is not helping to bolster our numbers. Pretend to have a heart, Razel. We may be isolated, but we are still here.”

The Planeswalker thought for a second, then reluctantly nodded an affirmation. The Shaman grinned widely and motioned for him to return to the entrance.

“I’ll have Captain V’nor take you to the last known location of the thing. Thank you.”

Razel stepped through the partition, making it a few steps up before popping his head back in to startle the Shaman, who was mid-dismount of his seat.

“By the way…when I get back, we can discuss how you came to know my name.”

The Shaman looked very confused as the planeswalker’s head slipped back into the hallway, now just the sound of footfalls leaving his abode.

Rokh began again.

“Planeswalking, much like magic itself, relies heavily on intent. Where you intend to go may not always be where you wind up, but your intention is still very much the helm to your ship. You saw how obvious the post was, right? As soon as you intended to go to it, the very second you wanted to, you were there. Very similar to the doors in the Academy. Actually, that’s part of the reason we set them up like we did.”

“So how do we track planeswalking?”

He directed two stony fingers to the crease in space behind him, barely visible even to those who would know where to look.

“That’s a scar in reality itself. As with all scars, it heals with time, but once you’ve seen one it’s easier to spot them. Reaching into one mentally can give you clues about where the thing that made it was heading. You can’t always simply ‘follow’ it, especially if someone is cast blindly into the Eternities. They could end up literally anywhere. However, were I to leave right now and ‘walk directly to my abode back at the Academy, you would be able to discern rather easily how to follow me, especially since I would already be taking the shortest path available. It would be a strong intent, and a bigger scar.”

“So what else? How do we know where to go in the first place?”

He crossed his arms and began a theatrical demonstration of where we were to go.

“To the fiery mountains of the frozen continent! Great spires of igneous rock tear through the ground, and where Glacier meets Volcano, you’ll find me. Think you can do it?”

“I...what?”

“I just described a place. You get a feel for it, visualize it, and then step out of this space and find it. There is an obvious plane nearby with the things I have described. Find me. I know you rather well. It shouldn’t take long.”

And he was gone.

Well...I’m glad somebody knew me.