Chapter 42
“They say that everyone is their own worst critic. Which just goes to show that ‘everyone’ doesn’t know a damn thing. Spend a month on a relic world, training for the Ardent. You’ll find that there are far worse critics all around you. Your fellow students. Your instructors. Whoever is in charge of your training will pick out faults that you didn’t even know you had. They say it’s all part of making you a better fighter, shoring up your weaknesses, but I think the truth is that they’re trying to break you down, erase all trace of individuality and make you a pliant little soldier.”
—Washout: Reject of the Ardent, Anonymous
The three days that Sylvas spent locked in his room before receiving the official permission to join the dig on his slate was some of the longest ever experienced in his life. If only for the reason that his future was so uncertain and that he couldn’t stop replaying the conversations that he’d had with General Wartback. But even so, that wasn’t to say that his days weren’t productive, both with regards to his new handlers desires and his own goals.
On the first day, he was treated to a rather comprehensive medical assessment that paled anything that he’d ever experienced. He was scanned, scryed, poked, swabbed and imaged in more ways that he thought were possible, to say nothing of the barrage of questions that accompanied the whole experience. But while needing to deal with that whole experience, Sylvas was able to take advantage of his presence in the medical wing, along with a hurried message to General Wartback for permission, for a bit of much needed surgery.
That surgery in question being the implantation of more several mana crystals into his arm to account for the affinities he hadn’t been able to find planetside.
Truthfully he had expected to need to either pay for, or better justify, the procedure, but the station doctor, and perhaps the powers that be whom gave assent for its go ahead, were so curious as to what he had in mind that they simply let it happen. Doing it just to see how Sylvas’ all too rare embodiment worked, which after the fact, was to say spectacularly. It ended up being a remarkably quick experience for everyone involved and Sylvas had gotten almost everything that he’d wanted when it came to the crystals the station had on hand. The only one of the mana crystals that he’d requestioned, and had not been readily available, was one with an affinity for Death. Though after some consideration, Sylvas supposed that was probably for the best though. The idea of carrying something like that around inside him at all times, feeling the oily chill of it under his skin, would get a bit wearing.
On the second day, he was granted greater network access to his slate, and by extension, his messages again, soon discovering that they had been pouring in almost non-stop. Sympathy and support from the friends who had been too stunned or sidelined by events in the arena to offer it then. More invitations to social events across the cosmos that if he timed things perfectly, he’d never have to feed himself again. Another round of marriage proposals, most of them considerably more bizarre and obscene than the last crop. But most excitedly, he received a brief snippet of a message from Bael’s cousin, the elf in charge of the dig on Strife, which simply mentioned that he was attempting to find a way to get the whole ‘locked away like a bird’ problem resolved from his own perspective.
Which is exactly what happened part way through the third day when Sylvas was unceremoniously told to gather what few things he had by the heavily armed and armored guards posted at his door, their arrival timed perfectly along with a Sending from General Wartback, approving his temporary seconding to the Veilbohr Institute.
From there, it was a particularly disorienting, and all too fast, magically cloaked journey through several service tunnels that ran throughout the station, before Sylvas was practically dropped in the aforementioned elf’s lap via a teleport. Kalisdrothan was as pleased to see Sylvas as Sylvas was to see any sort of friendly face after being isolated for so long. “Simply delighted to have all that trouble sorted out my friend. Delighted. For a moment I was worried that you’d be placed away lock and key for ages, but sanity, and perhaps a spot of luck has prevailed. Luck for me that is. Now I’ll be truly unfettered in my efforts to show you how good life would be if you chose to join us over at the Institute for good.”
It was exactly the kind of lighthearted verbal fencing that Sylvas had mastered back on his home world and never got to exercise with anyone but Bael nowadays. “I’m afraid that Archmage Veilbohr has suggested rather different plans for my future if I was to give up my commission and join you.”
“Oh don’t you worry about him.” Kalis replied with a smile once the two of them were sitting privately in his office. Or at least as private as one could get with two guards at the door, the rest outside, and half a dozen scrying spells hanging in the air. “If you think that the political landscape of the Empyrean is strewn with chaos, it cannot hold a candle to the backstabbing and backbiting of academia. His name may be above the door, but I can assure you that his power isn’t absolute within the Institute itself. He designed it that way himself, in fact. There are a great many factions within the faculty who’d be more than eager to compete for your skills and talents, especially since you seem like the kind to actually enjoy getting out in the field and feel the wind in your hair.”
“Or the sand, as the case may be with us here.” Sylvas had nodded back to the pictures of Strife illuminating the map that had been spread out across the table in the dinky office.
“Ah, so it is. Have I ever mentioned how much of a curious thing the sand of Strife is? Oxidized iron gives it the color, but the structure of each grain isn’t crystalline as we’d expect with most sand, it is more akin to a desiccated cellular structure than a mineral one. On any other world, rainfall would have likely reduced it to a stain or some sediment millennia ago. It is only the conditions on the surface that have granted us the chance to examine it.” He gave Sylvas an extremely affected nudge with his elbow. “Makes you wonder how many other mysteries have been lost to the annals of time simply because there was nobody sentient around to make the observations, does it not?”
As Sylvas quickly learned from there the vast majority of the planning had already been completed, and on the logistics side of things, there was little left to do but wait for the fully-stocked shuttle with the rest of Kalisdrothan’s team to arrive and carry them down to the planet. In truth, he spent more time with the man, or Kalis as he was told to call him if he wanted to, just talking about what they hoped to discover than the practicality of the whole thing.
“What one must remember about relic worlds is their rarity. There have been countless civilizations wiped out by the arrival of the eidolons, but passing few that have managed to mount sufficient defenses to stall out an incursion event.” Kalis was still talking happily as they made their way to the docking bay for the Institute shuttle via another service tunnel, courtesy of the same collection of stone faced guards that had dropped him off earlier. “Worlds that do survive their first incursion tend to get a little chaotic and spurred on to growth in the aftermath as they discover that they’re not alone in the universe. If those, the worlds that don’t have sufficiently advanced magic are just wiped out wholesale, but relic worlds represent that rarest margin where the coin toss lands on its edge. And in that there is immense opportunity. Something that they did allowed their civilization to halt an eidolon incursion despite having already succumbed to it. Something beyond mere force of arms. These ‘somethings’ are the discoveries that we seek to make!”
Sylvas lost track of his rambling as they finally entered the bay and he saw his first non-Ardent ship. It was beautiful. It looked like it had been carved out of a single block of wood, sanded down to perfect smoothness. There was an elegance to the design that put the Ardent’s blocky craft to shame. Moreover, it was practically alight with enchantment. Sylvas had to blink away his second sight or be overwhelmed by just how much magic was in use.
Down a smooth ramp the remainder of Kalisdrothan’s research team came tumbling out. Most of them were elves, with a fair few humans, an odd pair of fiends and a single najash. They didn’t wear uniforms exactly, but they all dressed similarly, and they were all unified by an excitable childlike energy. Every one of them was as excited as their leader, if not more so. One of the girls was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Hello, my friends, hello my students, welcome to the Strife, or at least, the most hospitable part of it. It is my pleasure to introduce you to Mr Sylvas Vail, currently of the Ardent, and loaned to us at the institute. Hopefully permanently if we have anything to say about it!” He said the last part so seamlessly and smoothly that Sylvas didn’t even have an opportunity to respond. “He will be providing us with protection, logistical support and some of his unique insights as we proceed as one of the planet’s foremost experts on eidolons.”
One of the elves, usually so restrained, lit up at the mention of Sylvas supposed expertise. “You’ve studied the local eidolon population?”
“I… suppose I have.” Sylvas wasn’t sure exactly how much he was meant to say. “But I don’t know that I’m the expert the professor is making me out to be.”
Regardless of that however, the woman pushed her hair behind her pointed ear. “Eidolon studies is my area of expertise also, we shall have to exchange notes at some point.”
If she were human, Sylvas might have guessed that this was flirtation, in fact, given Mira’s distant giggling at the back of his mind, he was certain it was. But even so, he wasn’t going to fall into any other cross-cultural pitfalls again and simply decided to take the statement for what it was. “I’d enjoy that.”
Kalis proceeded along the line. “Architecture, geology, arcanum, ecology, I believe that we have all of our bases covered with this cohort of ambitious young minds.”
Despite having travelled a great distance, the expedition crew looked energized after the introduction. Excitement seemed to have infected them all, which of course included the Kalis himself. “I’m aware that we’re all extremely eager to be on our way down to the planetary surface, but I’m going to suggest that you take one final opportunity to make use of the amenities here. Creature comforts are going to be in short supply on the surface, as I’m sure our companion here can attest. He actually spent close to a year living on the planetary surface in the ruins of the relic civilization.”
Once again, Sylvas was caught off-guard by his inclusion in the conversation, and the interest of the academics who were now looking at him curiously. Feeling obliged to say something he confirmed what the elf had told them. “There’s no water on the planet to speak of, so this is probably your last opportunity to use a real toilet. Or eat decent food.”
That drew out a round of laughter from the researchers that Sylvas wasn’t sure how to deal with. They all headed off into an adjacent room to continue with their preparations, leaving him alone with the professor for a moment.
Kalis turned back to Sylvas with as broad a smile as Sylvas had ever seen on an elf. “Will you be making use of the facilities one last time before we depart? It isn’t a long flight, but who knows how long it will take us to establish latrines on site.”
“Is digging those going to be the ‘logistical support’ you mentioned earlier?” He sniped back.
“Goodness no,” Kalis enthusiasm made it very hard to get annoyed at him. “That sounds like a task for the brave and the bold of the Ardent.”
Sylvas could already picture the look on Kaya’s face when she was told to dig a hole to use as a toilet. Maybe there were more benefits to him being let out of his tiny room than he’d foreseen.
