Memoirs 496 - Champion and charge (Patreon)

Scarlett watched Dame Iyana take in their surroundings.

Between the colourful sky overhead, the rolling grass beneath their feet, and the even stranger sights scattered in the distance, it was understandable that she might need a few moments to take everything in.

Faint motes drifted lazily around them, catching flashes of blue and violet from above.

Scarlett eyed those with mild interest.

She wondered what they were actually supposed to be.

Eventually, Dame Iyana’s attention settled on her, and Scarlett met her eyes.

“Have you been to the Wandering Realm before?” Scarlett asked.

“No,” the knight replied. “Have you?”

“I have.”

“That does not surprise me. You seem experienced.”

Dame Iyana turned to look behind them, towards the spot where they had appeared. There was nothing there now but an empty stretch of grass, stirring in a breeze Scarlett couldn’t feel. It continued uninterrupted for several dozen metres before sloping gently towards a field of dark flowers.

“There is no way back,” she said.

“Not directly, no.” Scarlett started walking in the opposite direction. “The Wayfarer’s Challenge is what you might call one-way. Once entered, the only way to leave is to complete it.”

“This is a trial, then.”

“In essence.”

It was probably closer to an isolated dungeon than an actual gateway into the Wandering Realm, despite how Scarlett had described it earlier. Technically, she supposed that made this an interstitial space between the realms. But it leaned far more heavily towards the Wandering Realm than the Material Realm, so she didn’t think the distinction mattered all that much in this case.

Besides, the Wandering Realm had always been divided into countless strange pockets and domains anyway. Drawing a neat line around what did and didn’t qualify wasn’t always relevant.

The quiet clink of armour sounded behind her as Dame Iyana followed.

“You were confident enough to enter despite knowing there was no exit?” the woman asked. “That seems an unnecessary risk.”

Scarlett slowed and glanced back at her.

Dame Iyana’s voice was as even as usual, but there was a faint weight behind the question.

Scarlett considered her for a moment.

“Does this frustrate you?”

“That would be a reasonable reaction.”

“It would. However, you never struck me as someone who gets frustrated easily.”

Something shifted in the woman’s expression, though it was hard to read what. Dame Iyana then looked past Scarlett, one hand coming to rest on the pommel of the sword at her side. “What is the objective of this trial?”

Scarlett’s lips curved slightly.

There was a reason she found this woman pretty comfortable to interact with.

She turned around and continued walking.

Ahead, a swath of knee-high reeds of translucent green interrupted the rolling grass for only a dozen or so metres. Their stalks bent in slow waves, and above them floated a cluster of dark stones, each several times the size of Scarlett’s head, hanging a few metres off the ground with thin roots trailing from their undersides.

Scarlett studied both the reeds and the floating stones as they approached, stopping a short distance from the edge of the reeds.

“Are you familiar with Idols?” she asked.

“I know what they are,” Dame Iyana replied, coming to a halt beside her. “I wouldn’t say I am familiar with them, though.”

“Put simply, Idols are best described as both the rulers and jesters of the Wandering Realm. Like the Viles within the Blazes, they are among the most influential beings found here. Unlike Viles, however, who are all fundamentally demons despite their differences, Idols are considerably more…motley.”

“Motley?”

“What other word fits them? Finding one Idol that is much like another can be a true challenge. Knowing how one behaves tells you very little about the next.”

“The legends often describe them as mischievous.”

“Some are. Though, frankly, I suspect the majority are not. Some may appear mischievous at first glance, but may be something considerably more terrifying.”

“I see.”

A long, drawn-out hum left the knight.

Scarlett glanced at her. That wasn’t a sound she’d expected to hear from her.

“Have you encountered Idols before?” Dame Iyana asked after a while, watching the reeds.

Scarlett faced forward again.

“A few.”

She lifted one hand and activated her [Charm of Expeditious Change], replacing her dress with the more practical clothes and equipment she normally wore while travelling.

Then she stepped into the reeds.

“Draw your sword, Dame.”

Steel immediately left its sheath behind her.

“I would not claim extensive experience with Idols,” Scarlett continued. “The Wandering Realm has always been somewhat—”

Something tightened around her ankle.

Three of the translucent reeds twisted together, their soft green surfaces darkening as thorned vines erupted from the ground around her.

A cage of thorns sprang up.

Cold air swept past Scarlett hard enough to tug at her hair.

A pale line flashed through the reeds.

The first vine split before it could climb above her calf. Frost raced across both severed ends, turning them white before they broke apart into glittering pieces.

Dame Iyana’s sword cut through a second vine. A third curled in from behind Scarlett, only for a spike of ice to punch straight through it. A sharp crack sounded as frost spread across the remaining vines, freezing the half-formed cage around Scarlett solid.

Dame Iyana stepped up beside her and struck it once with her gauntleted hand. The frozen growth shattered, and Scarlett stepped free.

Then the rest of the reeds moved. Dozens of the things bent towards them from all directions.

Dame Iyana shifted one foot.

Mist curled around the edge of her sword as ice spread out from beneath her boots, racing through the reeds and swallowing the nearest stalks. A moment later, she swept her blade sideways.

A broad arc of white-trailing force passed through the area.

The reeds folded over in its wake, sliced cleanly apart. Several of the floating stones above them jerked as the roots hanging beneath them were caught in the attack, drifting a little higher before slowly settling again.

Silence settled as what had been a field of translucent green was now mostly covered in frost and broken stalks.

Scarlett looked down at the pieces of vine still hanging around her ankle and shook her foot until they fell away.

“Why did you not defend yourself?”

She turned towards Dame Iyana, who stared at her.

“Defend myself?” Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “I am hardly in any condition to do so.”

She reached towards the [Pouch of Holding] at her hip and pulled out a small vial. After removing the stopper, she drank it slowly.

A little burst of energy began working its way into her limbs.

“This is a concoction prepared by one of my retainers,” she said, lowering the empty vial. “At the moment, it is likely the only reason I am still standing. Even if I wanted to defend myself, attempting to use any meaningful amount of mana would almost definitely do more damage to me than those reeds ever could.”

Dame Iyana frowned. “You entered this trial knowing you couldn’t fight?”

“Unfortunately, yes. In that regard, I am little more than dead weight.” Scarlett returned the vial to her pouch and looked across the frost-covered reeds. “Though I am not especially fond of the description, I believe it would be apt to call me a fair and defenceless maiden at present.”

At least, she was sure that was how Rosa would have described her.

“Then why come here now?”

“Because I have you as my champion.”

Scarlett glanced back at the woman’s perplexed expression, smiling faintly.

“The Wandering Realm and its Idols operate according to some rather peculiar rules. Rules that are often abstruse and difficult to understand from the outside. This place is a good example of that.”

She started across the swath. The frozen reeds crunched beneath her boots, their glassy stems breaking into small pieces with every step. Scarlett found the sensation oddly unpleasant after the first few and began avoiding the thicker patches where she could.

“Have you ever heard the tale of Sir Caelus and the Lost Princess?” she asked.

Dame Iyana moved up beside her, sword still drawn as she kept watch over their surroundings. “The old children’s tale?”

“That one.”

“I know it.” The knight stepped straight through a cluster of frozen reeds without seeming to care about the crunch beneath her greaves. “Sir Caelus becomes trapped in an enchanted land with Princess Amara after their ship disappears during a storm. As the only survivors, he escorts her through the realm while fighting off the creatures that pursue them. Eventually, they find their way home, and he is anointed a hero.”

Scarlett nodded. “Does it sound familiar?”

Dame Iyana gave her a sideways look. “You are saying this place resembles the story?”

“I am saying it is the story.”

Or close enough to it, anyway.

In the game, the player had taken the role of the champion while one chosen party member received a crippling debuff and had to be protected throughout the entire challenge.

Scarlett had honestly thought it was a pretty annoying gimmick at the time. That said, she was fairly confident that it was currently affecting her. Beyond her body still not being in any shape to fight right now, she just felt defenceless.

She truly did fill the role of the Charge.

“This is not exactly how events played out in the story,” she said, “but the legend very likely originated from this place. What is relevant to us is that the rule governing the trial is simple enough. A champion protects their charge until the two of them find their way home. That is what we have to do.”

Dame Iyana seemed to consider that as they left the reeds behind. The floating stones remained suspended over the ruined swath, their dangling roots slowly swaying while the frost below continued creeping along the ground.

Ahead was another shorter stretch of grass, and beyond that stood a dense wall of trees.

Something rustled to their right.

Dame Iyana turned before Scarlett even had time to react.

A cluster of grey shapes burst out of the grass, resembling long-limbed rabbits with one or two joints too many. One managed two bounds before a wave of frost swept forth.

The creatures froze mid-motion.

A single swing of Iyana’s sword shattered them.

Scarlett kept walking.

“I am beginning to reconsider agreeing to this,” Dame Iyana said. “Even if I gave you my word, my duties as His Majesty’s Sword take precedence over any promise I made to you. I am wasting time here.”

“I suppose that is fair,” Scarlett replied. “I was somewhat presumptuous in bringing you here.”

“Somewhat.”

“I am afraid it is a consequence of getting my way far too often. I occasionally forget to consider how inconvenient that may be for everyone else. With that said, I am not entirely shameless. You are not coming away from this arrangement empty-handed.”

Scarlett let the woman catch up as she slowed near the treeline, looking for an opening through the dense growth ahead. From here, the forest looked mostly normal, but you really couldn’t trust that.

“Do you remember what Sir Caelus and the princess found during their journey?” Scarlett asked.

The knight thought for a few seconds.

“A spring.”

“Yes. To be more precise, the Spring of First Morning.”

According to the story, its waters could bring someone back from the brink of exhaustion, mend the most serious of injuries, and leave anyone who bathed in them feeling as if they’d spent a week doing nothing but sleeping.

“Its restorative properties are supposedly without equal,” Scarlett said. “At least within the Wandering Realm. I imagine even a small amount would be of considerable value to you. Or to one of your fellow Swords.”

She still didn’t know the full extent of the injuries the Royal Guard had suffered from Vail, but she had seen enough of Captain Swale earlier to suspect that at least some of them were worse off than they could afford to be at the moment.

Dame Iyana went quiet.

That had definitely caught her interest.

Eventually, the knight gave a small nod.

“That changes things.”

“I thought it might.”

Another group of the rabbit-like creatures sprang from the grass.

None of them made it within five metres.

“Come,” Scarlett said, continuing towards the trees. “This need not take long, assuming we maintain a steady pace. Unlike that knight and princess of legend, we are not mere castaways.”

They followed the edge of the forest for a short while before finding what looked like a game trail leading between the trees. Exactly what sort of animals made trails here was probably better left unanswered, but Scarlett remembered that they needed to head into the forest.

So into the forest they went.

Dame Iyana kept a close watch on their surroundings as the woods steadily thickened around them. The trees grew larger the deeper they went, their branches spreading overhead until the purple-blue sky was reduced to occasional patches between the leaves.

Scarlett brought out an enchanted lamp and held it in front of her as they walked.

Some of the trunks were wider than she was tall, and she could have sworn they were getting larger with every few minutes they spent moving deeper into the forest.

And was it just her imagination, or did some of the cracks and knots in the bark look disturbingly like eyes whenever the lamplight shifted across them?

That was honestly kind of creepy. It definitely hadn’t been something you noticed in the game.

“In the story,” Dame Iyana said after some time, stepping over a root nearly as thick as Scarlett’s waist, “I think I recall Sir Caelus fighting an imp. Is that correct?”

“Not quite. You would be hard-pressed to find an actual demon in the Wandering Realm. Some of the creatures that live here may not be too different, though. I once fought a flying worm the size of an adolescent dragon in one of these places, and I would much rather have dealt with a demon.”

“You live an…interesting life.”

“That is one way to put it. It is eventful, at the very least.” Scarlett shook her head. “Anyhow, the imp you are thinking of was most likely the Idol who created this place. Pellin, the Teller at the Crossroads.”

“Pellin…?” Dame Iyana repeated the name as if testing how it sounded. “Will we have to fight it?”

“Hmm. Maybe. Who knows?”

Scarlett looked into the darkness between the trees pressing in around them.

“What do you think? Do we have to fight?”

Dame Iyana gave her a puzzled look. “I don’t know.”

Scarlett smiled lightly. “Apologies. I was not addressing that to you.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed before shifting towards the shadows beyond their lamp.

A shrill, drawn-out laugh rang out from somewhere among the trees.

Dame Iyana immediately held an arm out in front of Scarlett, stopping her. Her sword came up as she searched the forest around them, the air nearby growing noticeably colder.

Some less-than-pleasant memories surfaced of the last time Scarlett had heard laughter coming from the dark in the Wandering Realm.

She pushed those aside.

Maintaining her smile, she slowly looked around, following the spaces between the trunks.

Then she stopped.

Dame Iyana noticed and turned slightly.

Scarlett looked behind them.

A short figure stood only a few metres away.

From this close, it wasn’t difficult to imagine how several generations of retellings might have turned him into an imp.

He had an oversized head atop an emaciated little body, with long arms, bare feet, and clothes that looked like someone very confused had mixed together a court jester, a travelling minstrel, and a storybook prince.

Not much of it was actually right.

His clothes didn’t seem sewn together. Velvet simply became leaves in places, which became feathers, which became strips of yellowed parchment covered in tiny writing. His fingers had too many joints, each ending in a little golden cap, while his face somehow looked both young and ancient at the same time. Every time Scarlett tried to settle on one age, another seemed to fit just as well.

He carried a crooked walking stick almost twice his height, and a ring of small keys hung around his neck.

Dame Iyana filled her role as champion perfectly, stepping between Scarlett and the figure with her sword raised.

The little man’s features bunched together in obvious delight.

“Pellin, I presume?” Scarlett asked over Dame Iyana’s shoulder.

The Idol looked from the knight to her. His black pupils shrank to tiny points.

“I knooow you,” he said, dragging the words out in a strange singsong voice. “You’re Veeeelum’s dealmaker. Hahaha! Pleasure! A pleasure!”

He wrapped both hands around his walking stick and bounced its end against the forest floor several times.

Velum?

“Is Velum the Idol with the large eye?” Scarlett asked.

Pellin nodded fervently.

“Indeed! Quite so! Yep!”

“I see.”

That was interesting.

Scarlett had never learned that Idol’s name before. She only knew that it had taken an interest in her for a long time, and that would probably play some role in the upcoming gala.

“Ah!”

Pellin suddenly froze.

His face twisted into something that might have been a scowl.

“Buuuut you’re also a taker of bags? No?”

“Bags?” Scarlett frowned slightly. “What bags?”

“His bag. You toooook, and never returned!”

“His…?”

Scarlett paused.

“Are you talking about the Bag of Juham?”

Pellin immediately let go of his stick. It remained standing upright by itself while he crossed both arms sharply in front of his chest. “No saying his name. He heaaars.”

“I did not steal his bag. I found it.”

“Did not say steeeeal. Took! Quite different.” The Idol cocked his head far enough to one side that it looked uncomfortable. “Ah, but he has nuuuumerous bags. He has no care for one. But you are still marked? Perchaaaance…?”

Scarlett’s smile disappeared completely. “Marked? Has that Idol marked me?”

“Indeed! Quite! Yep!”

A small chill ran down her back.

She had only encountered Juham once, inside that pseudo-Memory at the Forgotten Tower. It hadn’t even been the actual Idol. Had that still been enough?

That was worrying.

“What does it mean that he has marked me?” Scarlett asked.

“Apoooologies.” Pellin grabbed his stick again and started wandering in a circle around them. “No more talk of him. Frightening! But you two! Champion and Chaaaaarge! You are taking my challenge, yes?”

Scarlett’s lips pressed into a line.

Fine.

She probably wasn’t getting anything more out of him about that, but it could wait.

She stepped up beside Dame Iyana as the knight continued watching Pellin closely.

“We are indeed taking your challenge.”

“Fuuuun! Delightful! I hope you win!”

Pellin kept circling without looking where he was going, drifting towards one of the larger trees. He stopped a hair’s breadth before walking into the trunk. Then he turned his head towards Dame Iyana.

“But…it will be too easy, noooo?”

The knight didn’t react.

Scarlett looked at her, then back to Pellin.

“I agree. Clearing your challenge will likely pose little difficulty for Dame Iyana. She is simply too strong.” She gave the Idol a faintly disappointed look. “Frankly, I expected slightly more.”

In the game, the dungeon had been meant for characters far below Dame Iyana’s level. The rewards were still very good—especially for what Scarlett needed right now—but the actual challenge wasn’t likely to amount to much.

Pellin’s attention snapped back towards her in what might have been the closest to a glare the Idol could manage, although, somewhat uncannily, there was also a smile on his facsimile of a face.

Scarlett met it with another smile of her own.

“What do you say to making matters a little more exciting? Perhaps we could…let us say, add a wager to the challenge.”