Mesmer's Mask

Bloody Secrects

We were left to wander freely around the Shining Blade camp as if we had always been a part of their insurgency. Elvea had gone off to talk to Evennia some more, and the women had been followed closely by the grumpy rebel Markis. Aidan had once again wandered off to do some scouting, and I wasn't sure where the others had gone off to. Without any real purpose, I ended up simply going between the tents until I came to a ledge from which I could overlook a large portion of the camp and down a gorge off into the jungle.

I sat down and stared off into the distance, wondering how things would go from here. I was beginning to feel that my life had lost all direction, that it was completely out of my hands and at the mercy of the gods. I was no longer fighting for Ascalon, no longer searching for a safer place to live... I wasn't even defending my new homeland anymore, I was simply chasing the ghost of an ideal through an almost impassable jungle. Nothing was what it seemed to be, and the latest turn of events felt especially disheartening.

I looked up when I heard someone approaching. I was half hoping it would be Elvea, and found myself more than a little disappointed when it was just a Shining Blade scout. He nodded politely and sat down next to me, completely ignoring the glare I was sending his way. I could tell that he was going to say something, but I cut him off.

"You just keep your hands where I can see them," I grumbled.

The man shrugged. "I know that you don't trust us yet. I don't blame you, but you'll see. The White Mantle are not your friends. They persecute the Chosen because they believe the Flameseeker Prophecies will come true."

I snorted. "Why should I believe you?"

"You don't have to," he said, smiling ruefully. "You'll see with your own eyes. The Mantle claim to take the Chosen to study under the Grand Masters at the Temple of the Unseen. But the Chosen never make it to the temple, and none of them are ever heard from again."

This unsettled me greatly, but I refused to let him see my discomfort. "It's called the Temple of the Unseen," I said petulantly.

"Very funny," he muttered. "All you need do is open your eyes, and you will see plenty. The Temple of the Unseen is on the southwest shore of Kryta. There are many well-travelled roads that lead right up to its gate... Yet the Mantle lead the Chosen into the Maguuma Jungle, far to the northwest of where they claim to be taking them. Don't you wonder why?"

I said nothing and stared ahead stubbornly. I wasn't too familiar with Kryta's topography, but every word he said rang true, even if I didn't want to believe him.

"I'll tell you," he went on. "The White Mantle lead them out to the Bloodstone and cut them down in cold blood. They murder the Chosen and trap their souls inside magical statues."

I felt my hackles rising at that. Evennia's words were fresh in my mind, and this new information confirmed my greatest fears. "Why would the Mantle do that?" I asked half-heartedly. I wasn't really sure I wanted to know, but I felt compelled to ask.

"The Flameseeker Prophecies talk about those with the True Sight rising up against the unseen oppressors," he said. "The Mantle believe these prophecies and think this means the Chosen will rise up against their unseen gods. They actually think we're going to kill their gods."

I laughed mirthlessly. "That's absurd."

He shrugged. "It's how it is."

"Suppose these... Unseen Ones, suppose they truly exist... how would anyone kill them? How do you kill a god?"

"No idea," he said dismissively. "But I reckon I'd try anyway, for the blood of my countrymen spilt in their name. I would rather die an insurgent than stand idle while my kinsmen die."

I considered this for a while, staring down at my hands. "So what does Evennia expect us to do?" I asked eventually.

"Track the White Mantle as they make their way to the Bloodstone with another group of Chosen, I reckon." He got up and looked out over the jungle. "They have a good lead on you, so you'll need to find a shortcut through the jungle, or you'll be too late to save any of them."

I got up too, feeling a strange resolve coming over me. I nodded grimly at the man and made my way back into the camp to find my friends. I felt that there was no time to lose, and the sooner we set out, the better. I found Mhenlo, Cynn and Devona sharing a meal by a campfire.

"You should rest a bit," Mhenlo said before I could speak. "You look weary."

"It can wait," I said. "We should go."

"Sit," Cynn said, fixing a glare at me. It wasn't as intimidating as a look from Elvea, but I always got the feeling that Cynn was slightly mad, and when she glared at me like that it was unsettling to say the least. I sat down meekly and took the bowl of broth Devona handed me.

"You'll need to keep up your strength while you can," she said. "There's no knowing when we'll have another decent meal."

I nodded quietly and spooned up the broth. I found that I was hungrier than I'd thought. The others talked quietly among themselves as I ate, sometimes discussing the task at hand and sometimes talking about what our lives had been like in Ascalon, before the Searing and any of this. I listened to their stories and found myself wishing I could go back there, but those days were gone, and so was Ascalon itself.

We were joined by Elvea a little while later. She looked tired, but her eyes were set to a look of grim determination that was starting to become unsettlingly familiar. We didn't need to be told. We simply got up and got ready to leave as quickly as we could.

We set out and soon ran into a woman called Saidra, who helped us along by shoving a large vine seed into my arms and told us what to use it for. I laboured with the weight of the thing, falling behind a bit on the rest of our little group as we struggled to make our way through the densely-grown jungle. I was almost glad when a few Moss Scarabs came crawling out of the underbrush ahead. While my friends took a moment to recover before launching their counter-attack, I was free to see it happen and had a firestorm ready before anyone else had any real time to react. I found a new appreciation for acting swiftly, although I wasn’t about to tell Elvea about it.

It seemed as though the entire jungle was bent on slowing us down. At every turn there were monsters to halt our advance- familiar creatures and strange ones alike. I felt exhausted long before the Bloodstone came in sight, and I was beginning to resent having to carry a vine seed around.

The strangely large seeds proved to be useful tools for finding shortcuts through the jungle. In some places the soil was particularly soft and gave off a strange glow, and it was in these locations that placing the seeds would spawn a natural bridge of thick vines for us to cross. The first time this happened I stood in awe, staring at the bridge that had grown so incredibly quickly out of nowhere. After that, I spent my time looking out for more seeds and taking them along. It was almost certainly a necessity.

Eventually the jungle gave way to a small but frequently used path. We all stopped to exchange looks, sharing frowns about this odd new thing. What use would anyone have for a clearly cut path so far into the jungle? Aidan went ahead to scout, and we waited a little impatiently for his return. I eyed the foliage around me with suspicion, as if something could leap out at any moment to devour me. In a place like this, it wasn’t unlikely.

"Mantle," Aidan said in a low voice upon return. "There’s a patrol up ahead, and by the looks of things there will be more of them around."

"Well, let us go and greet our friends then," Elvea said. I couldn't quite tell if she was being sarcastic, or if she was being serious. I had difficulty imagining her betraying the Shining Blade, but on the other hand she had led us into the Mantle and all the trouble that followed.

Aidan grabbed her arm as she moved past him. "Be careful," he said. "Chances are they will not be looking for polite conversation."

She gave him a weary look and moved lightly out of his grip. "Leave the diplomacy to me," she said. "You worry about the rest."

"If they make a wrong move, I will fire," he said. His simple statement had an undertone of concern.

"I know," she said. "That's why I want you behind me."

She headed down the path and we followed her, each of us looking vaguely worried about what lay ahead. I wondered if she knew what she was doing, if she had a plan. She probably did, but I was hoping for something a little more sophisticated than knocking the Mantle on the head with her staff.

We ran into the patrol Aidan had mentioned not much later. A knight, an abbot and a seeker stood in the middle of the dirt path, looking anything but friendly. They eyed Elvea warily as she approached them, but made no move to draw arms.

"Greetings, my brothers," she said. She had raised her left hand a little in a friendly wave. "It pleases me to find you here."

"Who are you?" The abbot took charge and glared at her, but if this affected her at all she did not show it.

"Lady Elvea Deimin," she said with a polite smile. Her tone made it clear that she expected them to know that name. I wasn't surprised when I saw a faint look of recognition flashing across all three faces, but I felt ill at ease with their continuous glares.

"Why are you here?" the abbot asked.

"I'm afraid we are lost." It was a lie so smooth I almost believed it myself. She continued. "We were tracking the Shining Blade through the jungle but we lost our bearings along the way."

This seemed to put the three men in a slightly more friendly mood. "The Maguuma is not easy to cross," the knight said. The seeker nodded.

Elvea smiled. "I cannot begin to describe how relieved we were when we came across this road."

The look on the abbot's face hardened again. "You cannot pass."

She frowned a little. "Why not?"

"Orders from Justiciar Hablion. No one is to pass."

She smiled at that. "Oh, but I am a friend of his."

"No one is to pass," the abbot said again. "Not even friends. You'll have to turn back."

"Will this road take us back to Kryta?" she asked.

"The nearest Mantle encampment at least," the abbot answered. "You will find food and shelter there."

Elvea nodded a little, giving a friendly smile but looking resigned. "We'll follow this path the other way then, until we get there. Thank you, good friend."

She turned and walked back to us leisurely, in no rush to be away from the patrol. Her friendly demeanour was gone, replaced with something darker that told me to be on my guard. I glanced at the three men, who made no move at all. They simply stood and watched her go.

When she finally reached Aidan we all made ready to leave. I had hardly turned around when I heard the sound of an arrow being drawn from a quiver, but before I had any chance to register what was happening, Aidan had already responded. In a movement quicker than lightning he drew an arrow of his own, turned, and fired at the Seeker. He was struck in the arm, and the arrow he had notched flew wildly, never even coming near its intended mark.

Suddenly we were in battle, and although there were only three men in the Mantle patrol, they fought fiercely. It seemed forever before the last of them finally fell, and I found myself more exhausted than I had thought could be possible. The oppressive humidity of the jungle wasn't doing me any favours, and by the looks of things my friends weren't entirely unaffected either.

"There'll be more of them," Elvea said simply as she wiped some blood off her staff. "Any patrol nearby will have heard the racket and come looking. Be on your guard."

"Aggressive negotiations, then?" Aidan quipped.

"Seems so," she said.

We continued down the path hurriedly, but more wary than before. It was clear that we were coming close to whatever it was the Mantle was hiding, and they were fatally keen to keep their secrets hidden. I quickly lost count of the patrols we disposed of, and had little time to think about the slaughter. I had killed Charr before, and other monsters... even dwarves, but there was something different about killing a fellow human being, no matter how depraved or hell-bent they were on killing me. Before any of that really registered, the next patrol was already blocking our way.

At long last the patrols stopped, and the jungle gave way to an immense clearing, in the middle of which was a gigantic round stone which radiated a powerful aura of magic. This was the Bloodstone. It had to be- I could think of nothing else that would unsettle me as much as an instrument of the Gods. It was still a fair distance away, but without the enormous growth of the Maguuma obstructing the view it was clearly visible.

There were numerous Mantle patrols guarding the paths leading onto the Bloodstone's flat surface. Even at this distance I could make out the people on top of it. There were several more Mantle guards, and Justiciar Hablion was leading them. In the centre of the stone the Chosen had been made to kneel. Their heads had been shaven and they had been covered in some kind of strange paint, clearly intended to be part of an arcane ritual of some kind. Hablion unsheathed his sword and moved among them.

"I am the scythe, the Bringer of Salvation." His voice sounded guttural and malicious. It was cold and harsh, and in the stunned silence of the world itself it carried all the way to where we were. "And I shall harvest the souls of the Unbelievers."

I saw Elvea's grip on her staff tighten, and she dashed forward without a word. We had no choice but to follow. Hablion's voice grew stronger. "For their stench will linger... until the false gods have been cast from this world!"

The Mantle surrounding the Bloodstone were too engrossed in the commencing of the ritual to notice our advance, but even at the mad pace we were keeping we could not get near them in time to save the Chosen. Hablion raised his blade, and in one fell swoop it bore down on the Chosen and slew them. Their blood flowed freely across the stone, and fed whatever magic it harnessed. The Bloodstone glowed, and produced a low but penetrating humming sound that stopped us in our tracks and made me nauseous.

Elvea stepped forward, and even leaning on my knees trying to catch my breath I could see from her stride that she was the embodiment of fury. It was an icy demeanour I recognised all too well, and even though it was not directed at me I felt a shiver going down my spine. I had come to realise on my journey that there were depths to the duchess's power that I may never be able to grasp, and in the presence of the Bloodstone, the thought of seeing such power unleashed made me queasy.

"Hablion." She did not raise her voice. It was almost the same calm and clear voice that had so often commanded our attention in the Vanguard, but now it carried an icy malice that sounded altogether inhuman. It was a voice I imagined belonged to the lord of the Underworld, but now it came from Elvea. This was the reckoning, and Elvea was the chilly breath of Grenth, come to deliver death and judgement.

"Well, well," Hablion stepped away from the bodies and moved to the edge of the Bloodstone to look down at where she stood. The Mantle guards finally noticed us and drew their weapons, ready to attack at a single word from him. "If it isn't our old friends. We thought you'd been killed by the Shining Blade... but I see we were mistaken."

The way he said mistaken made me feel as though he was planning on setting the record straight in a rather unpleasant manner. Elvea didn't seem the least bit impressed, though. "We're on to you, Hablion," she said. "Your days of murdering innocent people end here."

Hablion smiled cruelly. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. If anyone ends here, it will be you." He looked over his shoulder at the guards with him. "Get them."

Elvea didn't move as the nearest guards closed in on us. "Prepare to pay for your sins, Hablion," she said. A knight ran at her, his blade raised to strike at her head. She simply lifted her left hand, and even as she did so he stumbled and dropped his sword. Her staff swung at him and knocked him off his feet.

Before I had the chance to see what happened next I was under attack myself, and I was flinging fireballs left, right and centre at anything in white that approached me too quickly to be a friend. I did not take the time for more careful analysis. There were too many of them, and too few of us, to waste even as much as a second trying to aim carefully.

It was a long battle and our victory was hard-fought, but eventually we somehow found ourselves atop the Bloodstone, with only Hablion still alive among our foes. Devona disarmed him and Elvea kicked him in the back of his knees, making him drop into a kneeling position. She pulled off his helmet and tossed it aside. Hablion's spiteful eyes scanned the faces of our little group and eventually settled on mine. There was little humanity to be found in his look; mostly there was beastly fury and monstrous cruelty. His malice was unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I had to force myself not to look away.

I thought Elvea would draw her sword for this execution, but it remained untouched in its sheath. Instead she took up her staff and brought it down to his head with such a blow that I did not think it could be natural. I could hear the cracking sound of Hablion's skull shattering, and the nauseating sound that followed it was her staff slowing down on the softer tissue beneath it. Hablion fell forward without cry or plea and lay dead on the stone, among the Chosen. This time I barely noticed it hum.

"May your soul be lost in the endless Mists, never to find rest." Elvea spoke quietly, and I couldn't quite tell if it was her own ill wish for his afterlife, or a trace of Grenth announcing Hablion's doom. She looked calm and unaffected, as if she had not just ended a man's life in cold blood. If she had any qualms about killing a man, she did not show it, and while I contemplated the blood on my own hands as we sought out the Shining Blade again, she simply strode ahead of us as if she owned the world and everything in it. It was as if she did not feel at all, and not for the first time I found myself wondering just who and what she really was.