40 – Sir Westys

A deluge of rain curtained the sky, darkening the early hours of day and deafening the ears with its incessant white noise. The town of Semiluminal appeared, when shrouded in rain, distant and empty. The stores were not closed, but felt like ghostly apparitions with their windows barely visible, and the streets between them were almost completely deserted, with scant few people daring to step outside in the cold. Everyone sought refuge inside where they could. It was cold. Uncomfortably so.

Standing below the gap in the wall where the city gate marked the end of his father’s possessions, Sir Westys and his team waited for Ishrin’s team. They were going to be their escorts his father, Duke Elstrom, had said, and they will venture deep down the Obscure Chasm in search of the old ruins of Tiamat Azur. It was a rite of passage, in a way, for all adventurers who came out of Semiluminal with the blessing and protection of his father had to brave the depths, and he was no different. He too would have to go on the long and fruitless search for the ruins in the unknown depths of the gap in the earth, where monsters and strange dangers dwelled, searching for some legendary artifacts that might very well not even exist. It was true, however, that the chasm hid a great many magical things in its depths, and it was true that many an adventurer came out of it much stronger than they were when they departed from the city. All of them, however, came out changed in some way, sometimes even unrecognizably so. That is, at least officially, why his father hired Ishrin and his team to escort him and his own team, to make sure that nothing could cause them harm.

That was to be seen. Sir Westys had never seen Tier 11 and 12 adventurers before, but he thought that they ought not to be all that different from normal ones, just a tad bit stronger. Perhaps wearing odd armor and brandishing legendary weapons. However, he had heard about the workings of the Guild from the other members of his team who were more accustomed to it than him, and when his father mentioned that Ishrin was a Tier S he immediately knew that the man was nothing but a fraud. This being said, he did his due diligence and showed up at the set time with his team. The three other young boys were standing beside him, soaking the cold rain with stoic indifference to the cold and the wetness, as they were ordered to.

Tom, Morin and Rorshard – called Rory by all – all nodded back at him. Sir Westys was the shortest of the bunch, but also the better dressed thanks to the deep pockets of his father who had spared no expense to get him ready for the expedition. His long blonde hair was spilling out of his shiny silver helmet sculpted with thorns and horns, decorations and frills, and tempested with powerful enchanted gems. It was getting soaked, but it was a sign of projected power that he was able to afford still having long hair instead of the short cuts of his companions.

Finally, after what felt ages spent waiting under the rain, he heard voices in the distance. The silhouettes of three people, walking leisurely at the center of the empty street, began to come into view like dark cutouts, and their voices blended with the rush of rain and came to his ears, distant and muffled.

“I am in full possession of my faculties and!” the man at the center said and held up one finger. “Very well aware of where I stand in terms of power. Therefore, as it was, being as it may, I can thoroughly decide when I can afford to act silly and when I cannot. In this particular situation I can. Comprendes?”

Sir Westys began to think that maybe these people were not Ishrin and his team, but some random drunks who had wandered all the way to the gate.

“So, if we happen to encounter someone powerful—” a girl’s voice said.

“Not even the hint of a joke. Dead serious.” The man said, and now his voice was steady and full of power.

“What if you didn’t know he was powerful?” the girl asked.

“But I do know. I can see auras.” The man said.

At the mention of auras, Sir Westys’ face tingled, as if someone had brushed him with a soft feather. The cold water from the sky soon soothed the sensation, but his interest was sparked. Magic auras, surely, he was talking about magic auras, and if he did then this meant that he was indeed Ishrin and his team, arriving to escort him. But what did he mean by ‘I can see auras’? Was he faking it to hit on the girl, or was he serious? What kind of fortunate encounter does one need to gain such an ability, something that could very well set them up for a life of pleasure and riches? Sir Westys wanted to know.

“What if he fakes it?” the girl continued, although Sir Westys couldn’t tell if he had missed something while he was distracted.

“Fake an aura?” the man the boy thought was Ishrin yelled. “Well, then we are screwed regardless of me making jokes. No worries there. Oh, hey!”

Sir Westys stopped staring the moment Ishrin took notice of him. He cleared his voice and studied the trio. He saw that they were dry despite having walked in the rain all this time, and the sensation of cold wetness that soaked through his armor all the way to his undergarments became suddenly an unbearable sign of shame. He started shaking from the cold, even though he wasn’t until a moment ago, and the more he tried to avoid the sensation the worse it got.

“You must be Westys, the Duke’s son!” Ishrin said.

“It’s Sir Westys. You must be Ishrin.” He said coldly.

“Yup. Here to take you with us on an adventure.” Ishrin said, but then noticed that the boy was soaking wet. “Why are you standing in the rain like this? It’s cold, you know? Look at your hair, it’s soaked.”

The boy’s face contorted. “I am aware.” He said. His long hair had been a sign of pride to him ever since Rory told him that story about a hero who wore long hair and was killed because it got stuck on something, a warning that Sir Westys was smarter and more careful than even a hero. Now he just felt silly, and he wondered if Rory and the rest of his loaned teammates were secretly making fun of him behind his back.

“You seem to be wearing high-grade gear for your tier. Don’t you have an enchantment or something to deal with the rain?”

Sir Westys felt the blood rush to his face. He had chosen form over function when he had his armor designed, once again believing what was told to him and not what he thought he should do. And never thinking that he would need useless features like a rain deflector enchantment, instead choosing to add the thorns snaking around the bull’s horns jutting out of his shoulder plates.

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“Don’t you have a mission to do?” He snapped at Ishrin. “You are just here to escort us and protect us, not to make conversation.”

Ishrin blinked. “Sorry,” he said. “I thought that we were also here to teach you, you know? My bad, my bad. I’ll keep to mine.”

“You better.” Sir Westys said, and the seven people took off.

The way for the chasm was actually longer than one expected it to be when seeing the canyon from Semiluminal. This was due to the fact that not all entrances were equal, and the two teams needed to enter the Obscure Chasm from a passageway that was one and a half kilometers north of Semiluminal, which was among the safer routes to the depths of the earth that also led to the ruins they wanted to explore. Duke Elstrom told Ishrin that, even though this was safe compared to other access routes, it was still wrought with dangers and monsters that could ambush them at any moment and warned him to keep his eyes open at all times. Especially to make sure that his son didn’t get hurt. He also mentioned that Ishrin could use the rest of the boy’s party as a shield, but Ishrin decided to tactically ignore the ethical implications of that statement because, frankly, he was not willing to get involved in the local games of power.

“First be in a position of untouchability, then get your hands dirty.” he told Melina after the fact.

The road was a beaten path of compacted dirt and uneven stones. It was regularly walked by many men and beasts pulling carts full of coal, iron and other minerals and precious gems: the miners made braving the Chasm their job in search of riches beyond imagining, and spent their days and sometimes their whole short lives in the shallow levels of the unnatural hole, digging away at the magically enriched rock. Some braved the depths more than others, and their carts were full of exotic materials that shone under Ishrin’s magic vision, and he noticed that the other miners didn’t even dare glance at them and at their riches, knowing full well that those who braved the deep depths were best left alone.

Before they reached the entrance Ishrin tried to make some conversation with the boy and his party but was met with great resistance. Coming from the earlier conversation with Melina, who warned him against being too much of a dick to strangers, he tried to approach them with milder tones, offering a helping hand.

“I could rig up a ritual for you and your friends, so that you won’t have to stand in the rain anymore. It’s just temporary, but it will spare you a cold!” he said.

Sir Westys grumbled. “I don’t need your rituals. Just walk.”

Ishrin shrugged, but after some time the urge to speak was once again present in his mind. He could ignore it, of course, observe it as an instance of consciousness like that guy from Earth taught him to a long time ago. But he was, this time, in a position of power and could afford to risk a bit.

“So, uh, we didn’t introduce ourselves earlier.” He said, then in a small voice added: “There was some… tension. But! Let’s start over, shall we? I’m Ishrin, ritualist extraordinaire. Also the only one I know of. This is Lisette, she doesn’t talk much but trust me, she is a killing machine. Lisette! Say hi!”

She only nodded.

“Uhm, okay. And this is Melina. She’s a wind mage, very fast and agile. Let me share with you the way we handle threats, see if you agree with us! When we encounter a monster I keep it busy with big booming artillery shots from my enchanted sword and also keep it grounded with my telekinesis, Lisette dances around it with her blades and chips away at the monster from the front, while Melina always finds the weak spots and shoots them.”

Sir Westys hummed. “Sounds good.” He said, but it was clear that he was distracted.

“What about you and your team?” Ishrin continued. “You don’t need to tell us your secrets, just your names!”

“That’s Tom.” The boy said. “Morin. Rory. Tom is the tank, Morin is the healer and Rory is the caster, as you can see.”

“I could kinda tell by the staff, yes. That leaves you.”

“I’m the knight, of course.” The boy said with a hint of annoyance.

“Of course,” Ishrin said, and the conversation died down leaving him a bit disappointed and worried about Sir Westys’ attitude.

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