This update was appended to on 1/12; if you reread it before then, you'll want to reread the last half.
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Agar takes a breath and stares down through the gloom towards Velendo. “Okay, no one panic. How do we get him out of there?”
“Well, if we just dispel the wind walk, we’ll turn him solid – but we won’t be able to travel quickly for the rest of the day.” He chews his lip. “I don’t want to save Nolin in a way that makes us too late to stop the Ivory King.”
“Well, we’ve better try something.” Galthia eyes Nolin’s disappearing body with concern. “We don’t have much time.”
YOU WILL DO NOTHING HERE. The voice is whispering, flat, expressionless.
* * *
With Tao leading Mara outside to calm down and Telay – nose healed – busy telling entertaining stories next to the bar, Velendo takes Nolin aside. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you need to be a lot more discreet. It’s not just Mara; if Arcade finds out about Adrianna, he’s going to literally try to kill you.”
Nolin blinks. “What about Adrianna?” Velendo’s face betrays his long-suffering exasperation.
“What, do you think we don’t know? Nolin, you must have a thing for paladins. You seduced her a few months ago, just before you put another notch on your belt with Mara. They’re both in love with you, and you’ve made it clear that Telay is the only woman you really want. How do you suppose they feel?”
Nolin gapes. “I. . . what?” He shoots a guilty look over at Arcade, laughing with TomTom as he sips a Griffin Grog across the tavern. Adrianna is also sitting at the table, and catches Nolin’s eye with a serious and unblinking stare. Nolin breaks off eye contact and turns back to Velendo. Sweat beads on his forehead.
“This so isn’t happening.” He turns to Velendo suspiciously. “What about Tao, or Claris?”
“What about them?”
“Phew. Good; even in this world, I know better than to try and seduce Tao.”
Velendo narrows his eyes. “You’re not making sense. Look, you have everything going for you here. Women seem to love you, you’ve got good friends, you’re famous and we’ve got lots of treasure. Can’t you just be happy with that? Why do you keep trying to sabotage your happiness?” Behind him, Mara and Tao reenter the tavern. Mara catches Telay’s eye and fakes going for her weapons, trying to get the bard to flinch. Nolin sees this and quietly bangs his head on the table once or twice before standing up.
* * *
“Holy cow! It talks!” Proty takes to the air as Agar backs away from the staircase.
HE IS YOUR PAYMENT FOR PASSAGE.
“What are you talking about?”
ALWAYS THIS HAS BEEN TRUE. FOR PASSAGE TO OCCUR, THE PRICE MUST BE PAID. THE PRICE IS KNOWLEDGE.
“Uh huh. So. . . what do you want to know?” Agar’s voice is hopeful and optimistically cheery.
EVERYTHING.
Mara calls up from the ground. “I’m not so sure we can help you with that.”
WE CAN NOT HAVE EVERYTHING, AT LEAST AT ONCE. BUT WE CAN HAVE MY PAYMENT.
Galthia frowns. “And that is Nolin?”
THE MOST KNOWLEDGEABLE OF THOSE WHO PASS CEASES HIS PREVIOUS EXISTENCE AND ADDS HIS MEMORY TO OURS. WE ARE STRENGHTENED AS WE LEARN. THIS IS AS IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN. IT IS WHY WE WERE CONSTRUCTED.
“Well, what if we don’t want to pay you with Nolin?”
HE IS THE PAYMENT.
“Okay, enough of this.” Velendo sounds frustrated and worried. “This thing is evil, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” confirms Mara.
“Good. Then a dispel evil should disrupt the spell and free Nolin from its control. Someone get ready to catch him if he falls.” Velendo prays, and the divine energy that his faith summons arcs into the bone staircase. The pit falls into silence.
“Well?”
Agar sounds near panic. “No change, and he’s almost gone!”
* * *
“Everyone! Pay attention! Something is wrong here.”
“You mean besides you being with this plane-hopping slut?” Mara, radiant in the sunlight, hooks a thumb at Telay and shakes her head at Nolin’s taste.
Telay smiles back at her sweetly, but there’s an evil glint in her cat-like eyes and her voice drips with treacle. “I’ve written a new song all about you, dear. Care to hear it?” The sensate reaches for her mandolin.
Nolin interrupts, voice tense with worry. “Enough! This isn’t happening, and you aren’t here. I don’t understand why, but this isn’t the world I know. Mara, I’ve never slept with you.”
Mara stands up straight, pride keeping her from losing control of her emotions. Her face flushes with color. “You wouldn’t have said that at the time.” The sunlight playing across her from the open window suddenly dims.
“No, I’m not denying this because I didn’t enjoy it.” A tiny lascivious glint sparkles in Nolin’s green eyes. “I mean it never really happened. In the real world, it’s more than a year later than it is right here. We’ve fought terrible foes, and we’re still at it. One of them must be doing this to me. I love it here, and I hate where I am in the real world. . . but where we are right now, I think it isn’t anywhere but inside my head. I can’t stay here. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.” He looks around at his friends.
“Malachite, in the real world you’re a powerful paladin and a dedicated killer of undead. Here you’re a servant. I’ve never slept with any paladins, and Telay. . .” His eyes lock with the beautiful woman that he’s known for years. He lifts his head and juts out his jaw, perhaps to try and hide his true emotions. “You’ve been killed by something stupid I’ve done. I can’t run away from that.”
It is clear that a sudden storm has blown up outside the Manticore. As Nolin talks, a sudden storm gust rips away part of the wall. He stands in warmth, in light, surrounded by friends – and outside, the cruel storm pounds down, darkness and cold hammering into anyone fool enough to expose themselves to it. It would be death to enter.
Palladio shakes his head. “Don’t be a fool,” he whispers.
A few tears run down Nolin’s face. He takes a second to lock the image of Telay’s smile into his brain, forever burning it into his memory, and he turns his back and takes his first unsteady step away from his friends. Then another, and another after that, and none of them get any easier than the first. No one tries to stop him as he walks outside, from safety into the storm.
* * *
“We’ve got him!” screams Agar. Malachite and Galthia catch the unconscious bard before he falls to the hard ground far below. Quickly, before the bone staircase can retaliate, they flee the pit into the relatively safe tunnels beyond.
“Do we go back and destroy it?” asks Priggle.
Mara and Malachite look at one another. “No,” answers Malachite slowly. “We don’t know its capabilities or defenses. We have to stay focused on our goal.” The others reluctantly agree.
Nolin comes back to consciousness, weeping quietly.
“Nolin?” Mara puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay!” He lifts his head angrily, eyes full of self-loathing, and shakes off Mara’s proffered hand. “You don’t want to touch me.”
Velendo sits tiredly down on a rock. “Why? What happened to you?”
“I just got shown a vision of what I’m truly like. A petty, selfish womanizer.”
“Really.” Malachite’s voice is carefully neutral in tone.
“Yes, really.” Nolin’s tone is bitter as he drops his eyes again. “In my vision, Malachite, you were just a servant – probably because I never wanted you to be anything more than that. I had slept with multiple women and left them. I’m certainly my father’s son.” He looks up. “Mara, I slept with you and dumped you for Telay. You like me now?”
Mara’s face flushes with color. “Oh, my. Really? With me?”
“Oh, yeah. And Lady Adrianna, my best friend’s wife. And Telay.” Nolin buries his face in his hands. “I can’t do this. I’m no use to anybody.”
Malachite fights off the urge to rub his temples. With the group so close to the end, this is no time for low morale. The chain cannot afford a weak link like this, and if Nolin breaks then he’ll drag the rest of the group down with him. "This has to stop," he begins saying, loud enough only for those nearby to hear. "This has to stop."
Over Nolin’s self-pity, Galthia turns to Malachite and says “Then stop it.”
Malachite pauses for a few seconds before recognizing the truth of the statement. He’ll have to start out somewhat confrontational in order to get Nolin’s attention, and then soften up as he goes along; last time he tried this, Nolin threw a tantrum and stormed out of the room.He takes a breath and jumps in with the words that he’s been swallowing for months.
“When is this going to stop?” interrupts Malachite.
Nolin has no idea what Malachite is talking about. He looks over at him angrily, already beginning to take umbrage. “Hah. I got my lover turned into undead. I managed to turn you against me. What would you like me to stop first?”
Malachite doesn’t take the bait. “When will you see yourself like others do? Do you not see how others look at you? The way crowds hang on your voice, the way he,” he nods at Agar, “follows you? The way those kobolds picked up on your words and ran with them?
“You have within you such potential. There is a hero within you, a leader who can right wrongs and who can inspire others to greatness. But there's something holding him back, and that something *is you*. You repeatedly kick yourself for your own worthlessness. And you let yourself lapse because, well, that's all anyone expects from old worthless Nolin, and then later you recriminate yourself for what you did, proving your own worthlessness, and the cycle continues. You think you're no better than your father, so you don't have to act any different than he does. And you are so much more the man than your father is."
Nolin first sneers at the thought, but his face hold the tentative promise of redemption as he locks eyes with Malachite. “Hardly.” His voice is unsteady, uncertain.
“If you could find that source within you -- that compass -- and follow it, if you'd become what you could be, not what you've convinced yourself you are.” His voice resonates in the cave, and he spreads his arms in emphasis. “That strength would radiate out to others. The world is going to need leaders, and need heroes. A plague is coming, and the world will need people to get out the news of how to stop it. People will listen to you, if you'd just have the faith in yourself to lead them."
Malachite can see Nolin beginning to bridle, beginning to gather all the excuses he’s learned to live with. The bard is taking this as a browbeating, which isn’t how Malachite intends it, so he tries to shift gears.
“Nolin, I'm trying to *help* you. There is a terrible storm coming, and the largest raindrop this world has ever seen is about to hit the ground. I'm trying to find you shelter. The 'flame of faith' will save us, and you think you're not worthy of faith – ”
Nolin corrects Malachite. “Not to offend you, but I’ve never found any god.” He smiles wryly. “I’m not really big on faith.”
"Not everyone believes, Nolin. Many people in the Church of Aeos sit in the pews, attend services, say their 'Dawn to dusk he lights our path', and don't really have the faith."
Nolin is surprised. “Really?”
“Oh, yes.”
Velendo shifts on his rock. “That’s me you’re describing. I lived more than fifty years without real faith. Oh, sure, I believed, in the same way you believe that you’re going to have breakfast. But Calphas had other plans for me.” He risks a dirty look up at the ceiling. “When he called me, I was angry. Why me? Who was he to interfere my simple life? But he had a plan for me. Faith usually comes, Nolin, when you’re looking for it least.”
Malachite steps back in. “Many people in the churches are there not because they *have* faith, but because they're trying to find it. Or they're there to be part of the community, or they're just playing it safe. If you had some simple sign of faith, something, even if just to play it safe, it might keep you from the coming troubles.”
Nolin breaths deeply, trying to regain control. He angrily rubs his hand against his eyes as he looks across the group of his friends surrounding him. “Faith.” He considers the word. “If I have to have faith in anything, I think I could have faith in all of you. In us. And in the phoenix inside of me.”
Mara looks at him, pity in her eyes. “There are worse things to have faith in, Nolin.”
He nods and claps one hand on Agar’s shoulder before standing up. Agar’s small fingers grasp Nolin’s, and Proty flits over to cuddle against the bard’s cheek.
“Let’s get going.” He glances nervously back to where the bone staircase was, totally missing the words that Mara is silently mouthing in astonishment.
“Nolin? And me?” She shakes her head in disbelief as they get ready to move out. Next to her, Tao snickers.
To be continued. . .
