Chapter Text
Fingertips rested lightly against carvings that were stained an almost unearthly silver-blue by a sky that felt close enough to reach out and touch. Sorey’s breath lingered, a white wisp, in the summit’s crisp temperatures as green eyes aglow with excitement traced over the engravings that ornamented the ancient architecture. This ruin had taunted him for years, waiting just beyond the reach of a boy who wasn’t quite as tall or strong or experienced as he was today, and now here it was, and here he was.
Sorey took a step back from the wall and took in his discovery: a large bas-relief, pristine and untouched by weathering, depicting a cloaked figure holding a shining sword skyward, its light parting the storms and beasts that chaotically framed its wielder. Stricken by a thought, he released a well-worn book from the straps on his belt, flicked through the pages, and held up an illustration to compare. Without a doubt, this relief was the image that the sketch represented - an image of a Shepherd wielding a sacred blade. So then this ruin really was–!
“Nothing on my end.”
The footsteps approaching at his side and the voice that accompanied them pulled Sorey’s attention to the familiar arrival. “Mikleo!”
“Guess you win this time,” Mikleo ceded, arms crossed, and Sorey replied with a triumphant grin before turning his eyes back to the carvings.
“This counts as two wins if you ask me. One for finding it, and one because it confirms that Shepherds existed before the Era of Asgard - just like I always said!”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Mikleo argued. “We still haven’t seen any definitive evidence that the ruin is genuine pre-Asgard construction. There’s always the possibility that the architecture is just imitating the style.”
Sorey raised an incredulous eyebrow. “An imitation? On this kind of scale? Don’t you think you’re taking the devil’s advocate thing a little too far?”
“It’s not like it’s impossible, is it? Look,” Mikleo moved to Sorey’s side and pointed to the illustration to which the book was still open, “who’s to say someone didn’t see this sketch in the Celestial Record and reproduce it?”
The book snapped shut, and Sorey returned it to its bindings before approaching the relief. “Okay, sure, someone could have carved a reproduction based on the sketch,” he said. “But the entire ruin? It may not be technically impossible, but it would hardly be rational. Just think about the time, resources, and manpower involved in building something like… Hm?” He ran his fingers down a faint vertical seam in the wall, tracing his eyes up along its length to the top of the relief with a frown. “Whoa, hang on… Could this actually be a door?”
“A door? Let me see,” Mikleo requested, and as he leaned in to get a closer look at the seam himself, he extended his hand and manifested a staff in his grip. He flipped it around and tapped its butt against the wall, testing several locations and listening carefully. “…It does sound hollow,” he finally decided. “It certainly wouldn’t be a surprise for there to be an interior, but I don’t see any sort of mechanism to open it if so.”
“So a sealed door. This close to Elysia, though? That’s kind of weird.” But as Sorey leaned in to inspect the seam again, the daylight abruptly vanished, obscured by the thick storm clouds that swept in and blotted out the sun. A wicked bolt of lightning cleaved the sky into splinters, and the pair exchanged an uneasy look.
“This is Gramps’s lightning, isn’t it…?”
Nodding, Mikleo began to move. “Yeah, gotta be. Let’s head back and find out what’s going on.”
With a forlorn glance at the bas-relief that he’d not had nearly enough time to appreciate properly, Sorey followed, picking up the pace as lightning pealed all the more violently around them. The sky flashed, and as an especially impressive thunderbolt speared the ruins with a mighty roar, crashing and rumbling and shuddering the mountain, Sorey saw Mikleo stumble and reflexively darted out a hand.
A shout of surprise, a hectic scramble, and a wide-eyed Mikleo hung by his wrist, at the mercy of his friend’s grasp, over the yawning maw of clouds that spanned beneath them.
“Well, this is a twist,” Sorey said with a small, breathless laugh. “Usually I’m the one needing my butt saved. Bad day, Mikleo?”
“What, you mean this doesn’t look like the textbook definition of a fantastic time to you?” Mikleo dryly replied. “How about pulling me up already?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m working on it.”
Sorey heaved upwards, Mikleo grabbed the overhang, and the two hauled themselves up and away from the ledge. As they began to right themselves, though, the sound of splitting stone called their attention to the large crack that bloomed from the wall and lashed out across the floor, spreading so quickly that it was already beneath their feet before they could react.
“Oh, cra–!”
At once they were plummeting - not into the clouds, but into the mouth of a chasm that reached down into yet more ruins, towards a platform encircled by a pool of water. But knowing when they would hit the ground didn’t make the fall any more survivable, and while Sorey frantically scoured for some vine or rope or ledge to take hold of, Mikleo turned his focus down, and, with the very little time left to take action, suffused himself with light and summoned a spiraling blast of water that went crashing ahead of them towards the floor. The current served the dual purpose of clipping an alarmed Sorey as it burst past him, pushing his trajectory away from the platform and towards the pool, and providing enough counterforce to cushion Mikleo’s descent. He staggered gracelessly out of the landing, managing just barely to keep on his feet, and immediately turned his attention to the heavy splash that had preceded him.
“Sorey…!”
A head broke the water’s surface with a gasp for breath, and Mikleo’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, this is a little more like how things usually play out,” he teased as he approached the edge of the water and extended a hand. “Guess this makes us even, huh?”
“We’d be even if I yanked you in here with me,” Sorey corrected, pushing aside the wet bangs that stuck to his forehead before reaching up to accept the assistance, “but lucky for you, I’m not such a mean person that I would dump my friend in water. Unlike some people.”
“Oh, come on, would you rather be a splat on the floor?” Mikleo leaned his weight away from the ledge as Sorey hauled himself up. “Though I’ll admit that the execution was… lacking. It seemed like a better plan in my head.”
“Well, we are both alive,” he ceded, and as he righted himself, his eyes wandered the large, circular chamber, the mossy stone and the foliage that had rooted itself in exposed soil, and the immense, crumbling statues that stared down with stern faces as they stood sentry around the room’s circumference. “But hey, more importantly… isn’t this a part of the ruin that’s under the forest?”
Mikleo followed Sorey’s gaze with a thoughtful frown. “It is, isn’t it?” he agreed. “The summit is essentially right above the forest, so I suppose it shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise that the two ruins are connected. …Or,” he glanced up towards the hole that had dropped them into the room, “they’re connected now, at least.”
“You’d really expect two ruins that are so close to each other to be related somehow,” Sorey considered, “but the architectural styles don’t quite match. Maybe they were initially built as one structure but were separated later on?”
Mikleo folded his arms impatiently. “A little focus, please? We were in a hurry to get back to Elysia, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t forgotten!” Sorey rebutted, failing to fully disguise embarrassment with indignance, and he shook off the water that clung to his hands as he started towards the arch of the connected hallway. “But it’s not like we can’t walk and talk, right? Or, what? Does the fact that the ruins are connected shoot too big of a hole in that reproduction theory of yours?”
Mikleo heaved a sigh as he moved to follow. “Honestly, you have such a one-track mind. In the first place, just being built in the same area doesn’t necessarily mean… that…” He furrowed his brow. “Do you feel that?”
“Changing the subject because you realized your argument sucks, huh?”
“I am not!” Mikleo’s feet stopped, and he rested a hand lightly on his chest. “Something feels… weird here.”
With a hum, Sorey looked around the old familiar corridor. “I mean, the wet clothes are making the place feel a bit draftier than usual, but I’m guessing that’s not the kind of feeling you’re talking about?”
“Yeah, no.” Brow furrowed, Mikleo started forward again, cautiously. “I can’t really describe it… It’s not a physical sensation, but it does make me feel a little sick.”
The response piqued a look of concern. “Should we take a break?”
He shook his head, descending the aged and worn staircase at the end of the hall. “It’s not that bad. I’d rather go back and see what it is that’s got Gramps bringing out the light show.”
“All right. Well, luckily,” Sorey hopped down the steps two at a time, “that fall practically dropped us right on our doorstep. Climbing down that mountain’s not something you oughta do if you’re feeling even a little bit–”
Something suddenly darted down from the shadowed the ceiling and bore down on him, and he staggered out of the way with a yelp, barely catching himself from tumbling down the stairs.
“What is that?!” Mikleo exclaimed, and Sorey hurriedly recovered his footing to see for himself what had attacked him.
“Is that… a spider?”
It certainly matched the general appearance a spider - eight-eyed and long-legged and fanged with a large, bulbous abdomen - but its size was more reflective of a medium-sized dog, and Mikleo regarded Sorey’s assessment with disbelief.
“Do you know any spiders that get this big?!” he challenged, but before he could hear a response, the spider-shaped thing lunged at him, and he quickly summoned his staff to catch its gnashing fangs before they reached him. As Mikleo pushed back against his opponent, a large stone came soaring up from further down the staircase and knocked the spider away with a shriek.
“Mikleo!” Sorey prompted, already reaching for another rock.
“Yeah!” But the second projectile wouldn’t be necessary; Mikleo let off a blast of water that slammed the spider against the wall, affording the two the vital few seconds they needed to beat a hasty retreat down the stairs and into the corridors beyond.
Sorey stole a glance over his shoulder as they rounded a corner and braked, calling for his friend to do the same, “I think we’re good, Mikleo! It doesn’t look like it’s following us.”
Mikleo stopped as well, turning violet eyes on the path that they’d just passed through as he worked to catch his breath. Once satisfied that the thing wasn’t going to come suddenly barreling down the hall after them, he let out a heavy sigh and rested his weight on a hand he laid to the wall. “Doesn’t seem to be,” he agreed, and the corners of his mouth tugged down. “But what was that thing? We’ve been exploring these ruins since we were little kids, and we’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Do you think,” Sorey started carefully, “that it might have been a hellion?”
“A hellion,” Mikleo repeated, and he brought a hand thoughtfully, worriedly to his chin. “A hellion… I guess that’s not an unreasonable explanation - a spider that got corrupted by malevolence and became a spider-shaped hellion. Come to think of it,” he lowered his hand to his chest, “that weird feeling is gone too, now that we’ve gotten away from that thing. Everyone in Elysia has always said that seraphim can’t stand malevolence.”
“They’ve also said that we can’t beat hellions,” Sorey reminded, starting forward again at a gradual pace. “That must be what Gramps was trying to turn away with his lightning, but now it’s inside his domain. Isn’t this, like… really bad?”
“I think it’ll be okay,” Mikleo said as he followed. “Maybe we can’t defeat it, but we were able to fend it off, right? If it makes it as far as the village, we can always throw it off the mountain.” Amusement broke across his expression. “And you can show everyone your expert rock-throwing technique.”
Sorey crossed his arms with a pout. “Oh, come on, what was I supposed to do? Run all the way back to the village and grab my sword while that thing munched on you?”
“I believe I was handling the situation just fine, thank-you-very-much,” Mikleo countered as they crossed the threshold into a grand central room, stepping out onto one of the two parallel walkways that were built off of the left and right walls, each connected to a lower floor by a set of stairs. The opposite walkway caught Mikleo’s attention, and he paused for a moment to groan, “Oh, man… Do you think the hellion did that?”
Sorey followed his friend’s gaze across the room: The walkway, which had always been a bit weathered and crumbly but had never made any sign that it would fail to hold their weight, had almost entirely collapsed. “Whoa! Aww, not the ruin!” He stepped a little closer to the ledge and frowned, heartbroken, at the wrecked stone. “I kinda doubt it’s something that spider could have done,” he decided. “It was a pretty big, but it wasn’t like, huge or super heavy or anything. If anything, I’d guess that the vibrations from all those thunderbolts probably…”
The words faded on his lips as his eyes moved down towards the lower floor, towards the fresh rubble that spilled across the ground and blanketed something that Sorey had never once before seen.
A stranger.
A young woman clothed in a knight’s attire lay still on the ground, pale blonde hair splayed over her face and an arm limply outstretched towards a spear that appeared to have been separated from her grasp when she, presumably, fell from the collapsing catwalk.
“What is it?” Mikleo reached the walkway a moment later than Sorey, eyes curiously following his friend’s gaze and widening sharply in surprise upon finding its mark. “That… That’s a human, isn’t it…?”
“Isn’t it?” Sorey echoed, and Mikleo frowned at the excitement and awe that swelled into his tone.
“If that’s a human,” he said, “then that’s probably what Gramps wanted to drive out with all that lightning. And that hellion may be here because of her, too…”
“She’s not moving… Do you think she’s hurt?”
“I mean, it would kind of surprise me if she’s not. A drop like that shouldn’t have been fatal, but it’s hardly insignificant either– Sorey!” He reached out to catch the other’s arm as he started immediately for the stairs to the lower level. “What are you doing? We shouldn’t get involved with humans!”
“So what, we should just pretend we never saw her?” Sorey argued, tearing his arm free. “Come on, Mikleo! We at least have to see if she’s okay!”
Mikleo heaved a sigh and acquiesced with a small shake of his head, “All right, fine. But we’re just going to make sure she can leave on her own, got it?”
“Yeah!” Needing no further permission, Sorey eagerly picked his way down the deteriorating staircase, jumping over the bottommost steps and hurrying to the stranger’s side. As he approached, though, cuts and bruises became more visible, and worry quickly supplanted excitement. He crouched beside her and brushed disheveled hair away from her face, speaking softly, “Hey, are you all right?”
Mikleo’s footsteps preceded his voice as he arrived shortly behind, “Might start with getting all those rocks off of her. I sure wouldn’t want to wake up to find myself pinned under a bunch of debris.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” Thus agreeing, Sorey moved his attention to the larger slab that had landed across the woman’s midsection, curled his fingers around its edge, and carefully rocked it out of place. “But man, it sure is a good thing she’s wearing armor,” he thought aloud. “I don’t even want to imagine what this could have looked like otherwise…”
As his friend worked at pushing the debris away, Mikleo leaned down to pick up the spear and inspected its lethal edge uneasily. “You know, we never stopped to consider why she’s wearing armor,” he said, “and carrying around a weapon on top of it. Maybe we should rethink this. She’s not pinned anymore - isn’t that good enough?”
But the woman was already beginning to stir, groaning as she slowly, deliberately shifted to push herself away from the ground with one arm as she wrapped the other around her middle.
“Where…?” Before the question took full form, though, recollection dawned sharply across her features, and she struggled into a position from which she could scramble away, eyes darting between the unknown person in front of her and the floor around her. “S-Stay back! I won’t hesitate to fight if that’s what– If that’s…!”
Her distress visibly escalated as she searched the ground, and Sorey turned to accept the spear from Mikleo to present to her. “Looking for this?”
Her eyes snapped back to him, and surprise, doubt, and caution mixed in her expression before she hesitantly reached out to receive the weapon. As she did, Sorey continued, “Are you injured? It looks like you fell quite a ways.”
“I’m fine,” the woman curtly replied. “Thank you for your concern.”
Though she said as much, Sorey couldn’t ignore the wince that flashed across her features as she pushed herself more upright and wrapped an arm across her middle. “Are you sure?” he pressed, and she shook her head.
“I… may have broken a rib or two, possibly,” she admitted, “but it’s not a serious wound.”
“That’s a plenty serious wound!” Sorey immediately objected. “And you were unconscious too, you know! Are you sure you’re not dizzy or nauseous or anything?”
Behind him, Mikleo conspicuously cleared his throat. “How did you get down here, anyway?” he asked, his voice a little louder than necessary. “And what are you planning to do here?”
Once more the woman shook her head. “I’ll be fine. An injury such as this can only be treated through rest anyway, so there’s nothing to be done until I get someplace safe.”
A beat passed, and Sorey tilted his head. “Hm?”
The woman answered his confusion in kind. “Um, did… Did I say something strange?”
“So it’s true,” Mikleo said, folding his arms. “Humans can’t see or even hear us. Guess it’s up to you to send her away, Sorey.”
Sorey blinked. “Uh. Right. So.” He turned his attention to still-puzzled woman. “If you need a place to rest, my village isn’t far.”
“Are you kidding me?! That is literally the opposite–!”
“A village…!” Hope bordering on desperation lit the knight’s eyes and rounded her shoulders. “Please, tell me! Is the name of your village Camlann?”
“Camlann?” He cast a glance over his shoulder at Mikleo, who shrugged in reply. “No, uh… It’s called Elysia, actually. I can’t say I’ve ever heard of a Camlann.”
“I… see.” She deflated entirely. “I see. Could I ask for your name?”
“Oh! Yeah, of course! It’s Sorey.”
“Sorey,” she nodded, and she climbed carefully to her feet, “though I appreciate your kind offer, I’m afraid I must decline. I was separated from my supplies, so I have no money to patronize your village’s inn.”
“Oh, Elysia doesn’t have any inns, actually, ” he corrected as he also stood. “But I’d be happy to lend you my room, if you’re okay with it being a bit messy.” The woman looked taken aback, but before she could speak, he continued, “And you’ll also need replacements for the supplies you lost, right? I can help you with that too.”
“I’m… grateful, truly, but I really can’t afford–”
Sorey waved his hands in dismissal. “You don’t need to worry about money. Elysia’s got a healthy prickleboar population right on its outskirts - I’d be happy to help get some leather goods and preserved meat ready for you.”
Rather than relieved, though, the woman only looked more troubled. “You’re saying that you want to house and supply me in exchange for… nothing at all?” she said. “But why? You barely know me.”
“Well, I mean… Why wouldn’t you help someone who needs it, if you can? Oh, hey!” He struck his fist against his palm. “If you want to pay me somehow, then how about you tell me about the lower world? I’ve read a lot in books, but nothing beats a firsthand account!”
“The ‘lower world?’”
“The land below the mountaintops,” Sorey clarified. “I’ve never been away from Elysia, so whatever you can tell me, I’d love to hear it!”
She frowned, taken faintly aback by the proposal. “But… just stories - that’s far too cheap a price to pay…”
“Not at all!” Sorey assured. “It’d be a real treat for me!”
“If… If you really insist,” the knight finally yielded, hesitation still apparent in her posture and in the crease in her brow as she shouldered her spear on a strap. “You have my immense gratitude. And, I’m sorry to put you to so much trouble.”
“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Mikleo asked, stepping a bit closer to allow the other to answer inconspicuously. “Gramps is going to be furious if you bring her into the village.”
“It’s totally fine!” Sorey replied to them both, though he dropped his volume to add, “Guess we can’t exactly keep this a secret, huh?”
“Yeah, definitely not. In fact, since it doesn’t look like she’s going to run that spear through you as soon as you show her your back, I’ll go on ahead and warn everyone so they don’t freak out when you show up with her.” He began to move away but paused to amend, eyes narrowed in suspicion, “But also don’t go showing her your back. You know. Just in case.”
Sorey rolled his eyes. “It’ll be fine,” he said again, and the woman tilted her head.
“I’m sorry?”
“Uh, nothing, sorry! Shall we get going then? You’re okay to walk on your own?”
With one last word of caution, Mikleo started away, disappearing into a further hall as Sorey helped the woman pick her way out of the crumbled stone that littered the ground. Once certain she was steady on her feet, he took an easy pace and led the way towards the exit.
“What exactly are these ruins?” she eventually asked, and Sorey’s eyes drifted across the familiar stone walls.
“Well, what could they be?” he wondered in turn. “I’ve explored this place inside and out, but I’ve never figured out exactly what its original purpose was. I’d guess from the statues and the architectural style that it was built as a shrine to the seraphim, but that’s just speculation.”
“Then,” expectation filled the woman’s face, “are you saying that seraphim may dwell in this place?”
He shook his head. “Nah, there’s no seraphim in the ruins.”
The answer seemed to bite the woman, and she hung her head. “…So you too believe that the seraphim are mere fairytales?”
“Huh?” The question - and, moreover, the tone in which it was posed - surprised him. “No? Not at all.”
She frowned. “Are… you making fun of me?”
“Huh? No! Isn’t it weirder to think that they don’t exist? Or, I mean…” It wasn’t that strange, he supposed, for humans to doubt the existence of something they couldn’t see. But still, “Everyone knows that air exists, right? Even though you can’t see it either. So, why shouldn’t the same go for seraphim?”
“But you can feel air when the wind blows,” she reasoned, “and you know its absence when you’re underwater, so…” She paused, frowned again, and gave a small shake of her head. “No, you’re right. This analogy may actually be more apt than I thought. But sadly, the general public doesn’t share the sentiment. ‘Common sense’ dictates that seraphim have long abandoned humans - if they even exist.”
Sorey hummed contemplatively as he descended yet another set of stairs. “That’s kind of a surprise,” he said. “I always thought the existence of seraphim was common knowledge. There are even books that talk about them, right? ‘Things which cannot be seen or explained, such as gods, spirits, or supernatural phenomena, are revered by the people as seraphim.’ That’s what’s written in–”
Recognition flashed through her expression. “In the Celestial Record!” she finished. “You’ve read it too?”
“Oh, wow! You too?”
She tented her fingers with a bright smile as she replied, “Yes! It’s been one of my favorite books since I was a little girl!” The warmth faded from her eyes as easily as it had bloomed. “But unfortunately, most people treat the Celestial Record no differently from any other work of fiction.”
“What, really? Even though the ruins it describes are real places that still exist today?”
“Right? But even so, it’s generally considered to be a particularly fanciful work of historical fiction. Most people believe it was written to pique children’s interest in history.”
Sorey folded his arms with a thoughtful frown. “That’s kind of a shame,” he eventually said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s great that it’s something that gets people interested in the past, but it’s sad to think that so much history is being written off as fiction.”
“I take some solace in knowing that occasionally someone comes along who’s willing to take all those stories at their word,” the woman said, and added with a small nod and smile, “like me and you, naive and gullible though others may brand us.”
“Well, that’s true,” Sorey agreed, though he felt strangely as if he were lying; his confidence in the existence of seraphim, after all, wasn’t something that had stemmed from the Celestial Record. But the corridor was gradually growing brighter, and he was saved from the discomfort of deciding whether or not he should correct her misconception by the appearance of the ruin’s entrance as they rounded a corner. “This way,” he said, pointing towards the day-lit archway. “It exits out into a forest, and Elysia is barely a ten-minute walk from there. How are you feeling? Still holding up okay?”
“I can endure a ten-minute walk,” the woman confirmed, and her pace slowed uncertainly. “Before you welcome me into your village, however, there’s something I should tell you…”
Sorey stopped as well, curiously awaiting her elaboration.
“I was being pursued, actually. I believe that I lost them when I fell into that ruin, but I can’t discount the possibility that they may still be tracking me.” Her gaze hardened. “But I give you my word: If they come for me, I’ll immediately lead them away. I won’t let your village get caught up in my mess.”
“Oh, is that all?” Sorey waved off her concerns with a smile and started forward anew. “Don’t worry! We’ll know right away if anyone tries to trespass in Elysia.”
“Really?” The woman didn’t appear convinced, but she followed nonetheless. “If you say so… But my promise stands. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble for your friends and family.”
“You won’t be any trouble at all,” Sorey said, though he knew that Mikleo would have been quick to disagree - and likely would have been right to. The position that they should avoid involvement with humans, after all, was not one his friend had invented on his own. It was a warning that they had heard time and again since their childhood from everyone around them: that even the best-intentioned humans were beacons for misfortune, and that they were all very lucky that Elysia and its surrounding lands were hidden away from human influence. But this young woman, guarded and tense though she was, hardly appeared to be any beacon for misfortune - if anything, she was but a victim of it herself - and as they stepped out of the ruins and into an emerald green thicket, Sorey resolved himself to argue on her behalf.
“That’s Elysia’s gate over there,” he said, pointing beyond the forest to a pair of massive stone spires and the decorative archway splashed in gold, teal, and amber hues that had been erected between them, but his companion’s attention was on their more immediate environment.
“I never would have guessed that such a place was in the heights of Mount Mabinogio,” she marveled, watching a flock of elysalarks alight from a nearer tree and flutter off into the bright blue sky. “It’s all so… pristine, like the shrines described in legends. You’d almost expect to see seraphim walking around.”
Her nuance passed him by completely, and Sorey replied with an all-too matter-of-fact, “well, yeah,” before pressing forward through the woods. “Everyone in Elysia calls this area the Pureland,” he continued. “I don’t really know how it compares to the lower world, though.”
“I do think the vista around the capital is quite beautiful, personally,” the woman said, “but it’s… different here, somehow. I wonder just what it is that makes me feel that way…”
“The altitude?”
She let out a small laugh. “I somehow doubt that, but I suppose it’s a possibility.”
The treeline parted, and they ascended the gentle slope towards and through Elysia’s gate. An expanse of grass and flowers greeted them, mist occasionally sweeping along the ground as clouds brushed across the high clifftop. Barely a dozen huts carved out of pale boulders pocked a landscape that was framed on all sides by a deep, deep blue sky and the few higher crests of Mount Mabinogio that peeked through the impenetrably white sea of clouds below.
As the woman took in her surroundings in breathless awe, Sorey raised an arm in greeting to the small crowd that had begun to gather, “Hey, everyone! I’ve got someone here for you to meet!”
The declaration brought the woman’s attention to him, and she frowned in growing confusion as he appeared to mime tugging on wrists and pushing on backs.
“She’s gonna think you’re nuts, Sorey,” a man with flaming red hair remarked.
“Really!” a woman in a blue frock agreed. “What are you thinking, bringing a human into Elysia?”
A woman whose tea green hair was pulled into a ponytail stepped up to their visitor, arching her neck to and fro to study her appearance. “Wait, isn’t this girl a knight? Look, she’s carrying a weapon! Is it even safe to let someone like this walk around here?”
Murmurs of doubt rippled through the other seraphim, and Sorey took a place between them and the cause of their unrest. “It’ll be fine! She’s definitely not a bad person!” he promised, and he then turned to the knight, who only looked more bewildered than ever, with a broad gesture to the seraphim gathered behind him, “So, this is my family!”
The woman clasped her hands uneasily at her waist for several tense moments before finally offering a response, “I, um… I’m not sure what to say. Is this a joke, or…?”
“Y’see?” the red-haired man said, and he patted a hand against Sorey’s back before turning to step away, the others dispersing with him as he called over his shoulder, “Hurry and send her away before she causes any problems!”
Sorey frowned, sighed, and pulled a smile back onto his lips. “No, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. So, anyway,” he pointed towards one of the stone huts, “that’s my place over there. I have something I need to take care of real quick, but you can go ahead and make yourself at home.”
She accepted dismissal without resistance. “If it’s all right,” she said, “could I look around the village for a bit first?”
“There’s not really much to see, though…?”
“It may seem that way to someone who’s always lived here,” her eyes wandered towards the clifftop’s limits and to the wide sky that lay beyond, “but this view truly is nothing like any I’ve ever seen before. I’d really like to enjoy it for a while longer.”
Sorey rubbed a hand against the back of his neck and cast a glance towards the seraphim who lingered watchfully nearby. “Well, I don’t think it would be a problem,” he decided. “Just, uh, don’t make too much of a ruckus, y’know? Oh, and!” He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t go pushing yourself just because your wounds aren’t bad enough to stop you from moving around! Make sure you get some rest soon, okay?”
She received the concern with a grateful smile, a nod, and a word of acknowledgment, “Right, I will.”
With that matter sorted, Sorey turned his thoughts to the next hurdle and his gaze to a slightly larger hut tucked back towards the edge of the clifftop. He steeled himself, hoped for the best, and made his way across the village. He found the door ajar on his arrival - only slightly so, but enough that he could overhear a familiar elderly voice through the gap, “…not sure what you’ll find, if anything, but I do believe it’s worth taking the time to look into nonetheless.”
Not wanting to eavesdrop, he pushed the door open fully and announced himself, “I’m back, Gramps.”
Next to the lit fire pit prepared in the center of the circular room, a short old man sat hunch-backed and cross-legged, a long, cleanly lacquered black pipe resting between his fingers and gray eyebrows hanging bushily over his eyes. He hardly appeared as the picture of intimidation, but Mikleo, kneeling in front of him, cast a glance over his shoulder that gave Sorey clear warning of the anger that crackled and sparked under the facade of a harmless old man.
“Uh, so,” he took a spot beside his friend, “how much did you hear from Mikleo…?”
“Enough to understand that, despite my best efforts, I have raised a complete buffoon! What are you thinking, bringing a human into Elysia?!”
Sorey recoiled, and Mikleo came to his defense, “Gramps, didn’t you say that you would listen to what Sorey has to say?”
“I did,” Gramps confirmed, and he reached to a side to flick the ashes from his pipe into the fire. “And I will. Sorey,” he fixed the addressed with a stern frown and a disappointed tone, “you know very well the rules of this land. Why would you break them like this?”
Sorey’s hands tightened on his knees. “I’m sorry, Gramps,” he squared his shoulders, “but I couldn’t just leave her there! There was a hellion in the ruins that could have attacked her, and she was already injured!”
“Human malevolence is what begets hellions in the first place,” Gramps sternly reminded. “Precious, precious few seraphim have the ability to stand against hellions - it’s all we can do to defend ourselves long enough to run away. It’s unfortunate, but should a hellion attack or even kill a human, it is not our place to intervene.”
The reply stung, and Sorey tucked down his chin, brow furrowing. “So if a hellion attacked me, you wouldn’t care?”
Gramps paused, gave a short sigh, and finally answered, “You’re different, Sorey. I raised you, together with Mikleo, as my own children from the time you were but newborns. You may be human, but you possess the resonance to perceive us, converse with us, share in our knowledge and values - none of this can be said of any normal earth-dweller. Involving ourselves with those who cannot even see and hear the same things we do only puts our family unnecessarily at risk.”
“It’s true that she doesn’t seem to have any resonance,” Sorey admitted, “but still! It’s not like you wanted her to get hurt, right? Part of the ruins collapsed when lightning hit the mountain - she was unconscious when we found her, and she said she might’ve broken ribs. We can’t really send her hiking back down the mountain in that condition, can we…?”
“No matter the circumstances,” Gramps said, “the peace of our realm takes priority - and you two, who will inherit the duty of protecting Elysia and its Pureland alongside all the others who dwell here, must understand that priority.”
Mikleo stole a glance at Sorey, who wilted under the reprimand. “Yes…”
The elder seraphim took a long draught from his pipe and slowly exhaled the white smoke. “That said,” he continued, “at least for the time being, I don’t detect any malevolence within my domain. I’m not sure how that hellion may have gotten into the ruins, but at the very least, we can be certain that it was not borne by the human you two found.” He tugged at his beard. “And if my lightning truly caused her fall, and, in turn, her injuries, then I do bear a certain amount of responsibility towards her.”
Sorey attempted to swallow his expectations, but they still found his voice, “Wait, so… Do you mean…?”
A nod. “She can stay, but only for as long as it takes for her to finish her preparations to return to the lower world. I’ll leave it to you to make sure those preparations go quickly.”
Gratitude illuminated his expression as he jumped to his feet. “Right! Thank you, Gramps!”
He crossed the room in barely a few steps, pulling the door shut behind him as he exited, and Mikleo sighed softly at the quiet left in his wake. “He wouldn’t have brought that human back here if she had seemed dangerous at all, for what it’s worth,” he offered, and Gramps gave a heavier, wearier sigh in return.
“I know. He wouldn’t endanger his family, just as he wouldn’t abandon a stranger in need.” The crease in his wrinkled brow deepened. “I just hope that he can learn to think of himself as much as he thinks of others - before a day comes when that kindness burdens him with more than he can carry.”
“Sorey!”
Sorey slowed, stopped, and gave his attention to the woman who had called his name: a seraph whose dark blue hair was pulled away from her face into a bun.
“That girl you brought back from the ruins,” she said, faintly worried, “went into your house a little while ago. I wasn’t sure if I should try to stop her or not…”
“Oh, no, I told her to go there,” Sorey reassured. “But thanks for letting me know! I’ll head over and make sure she’s doing all right.” He leaned forward but stopped before taking a step, adding, “By the way, Medea, can I ask you for a favor? It seems she was injured in the ruins.”
“You want me to heal her?”
“Please.”
Medea laid a hand against her cheek with a worried frown. “I don’t know, Sorey. Healing a human is a little…”
Sorey’s shoulders sank. “Would that really be a bad thing?” he pressed, trying not to sound too dispirited by the response. “I used to get hurt all the time when I was little, and you never minded healing me…”
The guilt that complicated Medea’s expression gave way to resignation as she acquiesced, “Oh, all right. She does seem harmless enough, I suppose. Let me know when she’s fallen asleep tonight and we can stage it like she recovered on her own with some rest.”
Enthusiasm and relief brightened his eyes anew. “Right, I will! Thanks so much, Medea!”
“In exchange,” Medea rested her hands on her hips, “make sure that girl knows not to come back here a second time.”
Sorey’s face fell again. “Is that… really necessary? I mean, she’s only here by accident.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t come back. Humans tend to see rich, untouched lands like ours and want to tear them up to build their cities, and then the next thing you know, the earth is so tainted with malevolence that you can’t even drink from the brooks.” Her features softened. “I know it’s a bit rude, but we really can’t be too careful. You just don’t know what they’re like, Sorey - even the kindest and gentlest humans are capable of making all kinds of trouble without even trying to.”
“I guess,” he wanly offered. “I’ll, um… I’ll let her know, then.” So saying, he excused himself and moved to return home, wondering all the while if he would feel the same as everyone else in the village if he had been born a seraph instead of a human. But even Mikleo didn’t so much share the beliefs as he did parrot them, which meant that the bias came from somewhere outside of the environments and experiences that Elysia’s two youngest knew - and, most likely, from outside of Elysia itself.
“The lower world, huh…?” Sorey wondered to himself as he swung open the door and stepped over the threshold into a room thoroughly cluttered with books, clayware, and a broad array of tools, and the young woman who had arrived ahead of him, her armor and heavy tabard arranged in a neat pile at her side, looked up to greet him.
“Thank you again,” she said, “for lending me your home.”
“Sure, no problem.” He left the door open to the late afternoon sun and crossed the room to take a seat across from her. “So,” he began, “did you get your fill of the scenery?”
“I’m not sure I could ever get my fill of it,” she answered earnestly, though her tone took on a shadow of concern as she continued, “but… there are other houses, but I never saw any other villagers. Do you live here all by yourself?”
Sorey pushed a hand through his bangs. “Um, well,” he said at length, “what would you say if I told you that I live among the seraphim?”
Though her expression warmed, sympathy still lingered in her eyes. “That’s a wonderful sentiment. And in a village like this, I could almost believe that it’s true.”
Ah. He somewhat awkwardly laughed, then he cleared his throat and changed the subject, “How about where you’re from? What kind of place is it?”
“Well, I’m from the capital, Ladylake,” she began, and Sorey straightened his posture.
“Ladylake! The same one in the Celestial Record?”
“Yes,” she nodded, a nostalgic smile on her lips. “When I was a little girl, I was always so proud to see my hometown written of in my favorite book.”
“The capital of Hyland, famed for its wine and festivals,” Sorey recalled, “as well as the home of the Sacred Blade Caliburn and the seraph who watches over it, revered by the people as the Lady of the Lake. Right? I’d love to see it for myself someday!”
“And I’d love to welcome you.” Heartache shadowed her gaze fell as it fell to her lap. “…But while it truly pains me to say so, the Ladylake that would greet you should you visit today is but a pale imitation of the city described in the Celestial Record. I’m afraid it would completely fail your expectations. Oh, but!” Her enthusiasm rekindled, and she tented her fingers together. “This year is the first in several, actually, that Ladylake will be observing the Sacred Blade Festival, so if you’d like to visit, next week would be an excellent time to do so!”
“Next week?” Sorey repeated. “How far is it to Ladylake?”
“Around two to three days, on foot,” she said, and she laid a finger thoughtfully against her chin. “Maybe closer to four, once you add in the time it would take to descend the mountain?”
“That long? Do you think you’ll be able to make it back in time?”
“Oh.” A curtain of uncertainty rapidly fell over her, and her brow creased as she considered, “Oh, no… Well, it should be okay - Lady Maltran is overseeing things, after all. But if I don’t make it back by the time the festival starts…”
As she worried to herself, Sorey counted up the days on his fingers before suggesting, “If you leave the day after tomorrow, you should be back in five or six days. Would that be enough time?”
She hemmed and hawed and fretted before eventually replying, “I would be more comfortable leaving tomorrow, honestly, but I am relying on your generosity for supplies, so I don’t want to rush you…”
Sorey’s shoulders fell. “That soon?” The others would be glad to hear it, he imagined, but there was so, so much he still wanted to ask, so much more than he could possibly fit into the amount of time she had to spare for him. He shook off his disappointment, though, and offered her a small smile, “Don’t worry about it! It’s the first time in years that the festival is on, right? I wouldn’t want you to miss it. So, in that case…” He picked himself up and stepped over to one of the shelves that hung from the walls, carding through a pile of folded fabrics and pulling out a few lengths of leather. “I had been planning on going hunting tomorrow morning and processing the hides to make luggage and maybe a sleeping bag for you, but there’s probably not really enough time for all that, so let’s use these instead.”
The woman only looked more troubled. “Is that something you made for your own use?” she said. “I couldn’t possibly, in exchange for nothing–!”
“Hey now, we already had that conversation back in the ruins, didn’t we?” Sorey reminded, and he unfolded one of the roughly finished leathers. “I just made these to have them on hand anyway - it’s not like I needed them for anything in particular. And I can always make more!”
“Still!” she argued. “I understand wanting to help somebody, but giving away your personal possessions? To a person you only just met?”
His hand found the back of his neck, abashed. “…If you put it that way, it does sound a bit overboard. Sorry, it’s just that it’s the first time anyone’s ever visited Elysia, you know? I guess I got a little carried away.”
Her posture relaxed, and she shook her head. “I do appreciate it, really. And it’s true that bags, especially a sleeping bag or even just a blanket, would make my return trip much more comfortable - but if I don’t have the money to reimburse you, and you don’t even have a use for money in the first place…” Inspiration crossed her features, and she laid her fingers together. “Could I at least help you hunt to replace the hides I’m taking from you?”
“Not today you can’t,” Sorey immediately and firmly refused. “Crawling around in the forest won’t do a thing to make those injuries feel any better.”
She pulled her hands into fists defiantly. “Tomorrow morning, then! There’s still enough time that I can delay my departure until the afternoon!”
Sorey’s stern frown came apart with a sigh and a concession, “All right. If you really, really insist, then I’d be grateful for it.” He collected a few more things from the shelf - needles, an awl and a knife, a thick spool of waxed cord - before returning to his place seated across from the knight. “Just wondering, but do you ever get told that you’re really stubborn?”
“I’m not sure how to take that, coming from you!”