Chosen, Chapter 63: Born Anew & Epilogue

AidanThe RealmsSixthday, 2nd week of the 8th month, Age of the Chosen 1Mid-AfternoonCeallach Macht, Mistvale Highlands

He could make out the vague shape of the room he was standing in, but overlayed on top of that was a field of glowing energy stretching out to the horizon. Tiny trickles merged into streams and then four vast rivers of manna, all of them rushing towards him and collecting in the chamber around him. If this is what Sarpedon was talking about, he's right; calling it hills and valleys isn't accurate. The 'terrain' didn't have a third dimension, but there was a noticeable directionality to the flows. It more resembled a circuit board than a topographical map. That wasn't all there was to see, either; each of Aidan's companions had a visual representation. Cai and Llwyd were faint bundles of self-contained light. Brighid, standing beside him, was a glowing, pulsing field of orange-red. The brilliant golden-brown aura was Ailis, and the floor-to-ceiling pillar of crackling sapphire static had to be Sarpedon. At Aidan's feet was a tangled bramble of different colors of energy surrounded by a shimmering, twinkling aura of lights; Riama.

Aidan focused his attention on the altar beneath his hand and pushed his awareness at it. He felt resistance at first, like he was struggling against hurricane winds, but then it gave way and he felt a connection form. Four octahedral crystals the size of his fists materialized and began to spin around the perimeter of the room. One of them was the red-brown of fertile soil, one a light sky blue streaked with white, and the other two were opalescent white. Aidan wasn't sure what to do with them, but that turned out not to matter. The Earth crystal glowed and pulsed, sending out a single basso note of sound; Aidan felt it vibrate through his body and spark a resonance within him. The Air crystal followed with its own glow and glissando, again answered by something inside Aidan, then the two unaspected nodes.

The crystals began to spiral in towards him, glowing and pulsing in a complicated pattern, the gap between them growing shorter with every pulse. Within moments, Aidan's senses were awash in a sea of colors and music, pulsing and strobing and echoing all through and around him. The crystals continued to close in on him, the lights blinking faster, the music growing frenetic, blending into an otherworldly symphony. A prompt bloomed in his mind.

Aidan steeled himself, then sent his acceptance. The crystals stopped in mid-air, flared into dazzling radiance, blasted a final musical phrase, and then shot forward into Aidan. He staggered back from the altar, his connection to the strange magical landscape gone, but notifications began to explode like fireworks in his mind.

Brighid caught Aidan in her arms as he staggered back from the psychic shock of claiming Caer Macht. He hung limp in her arms for a moment, stunned and struggling to process the barrage of notifications. He eased himself back to his feet, patting Brighid's arm in thanks, and attempted to push away all the prompts to deal with later. To his surprise, one refused to go, so he opened it.

More work, more responsibilities, was Aidan's initial thought, and he almost declined on the spot before an idea struck him. The legends Brighid told him about the city said that Ceallach Macht was once a multi-species, multi-cultural city. If he could rebuild it that way, it would give him a power base that didn't depend on the goodwill of the Starchaser tribe. It would also mean that when enemies came for him, they would face more than just a couple hundred centaurs. And, too, there was Cai and Llwyd's faith in him. However, the straw that broke the camel's back was the implication that someone else could if he didn't claim the city. That would be unacceptable. He squared his shoulders and took another weight upon himself.

As if that weren't enough, six voices spoke in unison, five out loud and one in his mind, "All hail Lord Aidan!" Cai, Llwyd, Brighid, and even Ailis's declaration, he set aside; they already addressed him as 'My Lord' or worse. Sarpedon surprised him, but that wasn't the focus of his attention, either. Aidan glared down at the black-furred astral jaguar at his feet and thought to her, "Traitor!" Riama blinked at him in the manner of a housecat who just pushed a plate off the table, then jumped up onto the altar and curled up into a ball.

"It was not known to us whether the city remained intact enough for this to happen; speaking only for myself, I hoped it would." Aidan turned to face Sarpedon, who continued, "I still remember Ceallach Macht at its height, and it would please me for this city to rise to prominence again. It will not be the same, but that is the joy of watching history unfold."

Ailis whipped her head around, but before she could start grilling the gargoyle for historical minutia, Aidan asked, "Am I anchored to the city now? Is it safe for me to leave Caer Macht undefended?"

"You may leave for a time," Sarpedon replied. "Now that they are claimed, neither the city nor the Place of Power will yield easily to another master. It would be possible for someone else to wrest control, but it would take both time and effort. The longer you are away, the easier it will become, but never to the point of being simple. It would be far easier to kill you and claim the Heart Crystal that way—and I say that knowing some of the advantages your nature grants you. You need not fear short absences, even several months at a time, but at this stage of your Mastery, you can only use and grow Caer Macht while close to it. It would be best if you made preparations for this to be your permanent home."

With a nod, Aidan said, "I figured as much." Turning to Brighid, he asked, "Would you mind moving your forge here, once we make proper preparations?"

Her smile was dazzling. "Of course not! I would never leave you alone, and besides, it has been my dream since I was a yearling to see Ceallach Macht rise again. It will take some time before anything here is livable, but I am with you wherever you go."

"It may not be so long as you believe," Sarpedon interjected. "One of the benefits of controlling a Place of Power is that its Master may draw upon the collected manna to create powerful effects. One of those is the ability to form magical servants. If you would please visualize your spells, I believe you should find some new options available."

Indeed there were, under a new category, Rites of Mastery.

"I see. Can I—" Aidan started the ask before deciding to find out by doing instead. The sensation of casting a Rite of Mastery was quite different from a normal spell; instead of the power building up inside him and being channeled through sounds and gestures, Aidan could feel it streaming into his hands from the altar. After a second, mists swirled into a humanoid shape, then dissipated to reveal a creature that looked like an artist's mannequin made out of fired red clay. Wisps of fog leaked from its joints.

How much manna do I have access to? And how quickly does it regenerate? Aidan wondered, only for a prompt to appear before him.

"Okay, so it takes 25 hours to recover the manna needed for one Automaton, and 125 hours per Overseer. But it isn't like I have anything else to spend it on at the moment..."

Soon enough, he had a team of ten Automatons and one Overseer. He sent them off with orders to clear the rubble in the city and stack usable blocks in a central location. It would take Caer Macht more than two weeks to regenerate back to full, but Aidan hoped that when he returned, there would be both plentiful building materials and space to build in.

He turned back to Ailis and gave her a piercing look. "Ailis, you and I are going to be spending some long nights together." She blushed, confusing Aidan for a moment before he realized his unintentional double entendre. "No, not like that! Now that you're my vassal, that isn't an option. No, I'm going to need to strategize with you; I want the Starchasers to move into Ceallach Macht. I can't help protect the tribe if I'm a week's walk or a day's ride away." Ailis's ice-blue eyes locked on his, and Aidan thought he saw a flash of disappointment in them before Ailis nodded.

"Further, I intended to make offers to all of the nearby tribes—yours too, Sarpedon—to send embassies or even relocate, if they so desire. In the past, Ceallach Macht was a city where people could meet and mingle, and I intend for that to be true again. The tribes being separate, insular entities means that each stands and dies alone. There is a storm coming, and we can only meet it together. You are excellent at getting people to do what you want them to without them realizing it; I will make use of that for the good of us all."

"By your will, Lord Aidan. You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, so I shall fulfill mine. We have to approach this with caution; change brings unrest, and this particular change will be worse than most. The tribes have been divided for more than a millennia. I do not know if it is possible for you to unite them, but if anyone can..." Ailis looked into Aidan's eyes again, searching for something. "Well, you have a good heart, and you are beginning to show steel in your spine. As a ruler, you will have t be firm and decisive. You will never be able to please everyone, and making the attempt will weaken what you are trying to do to the degree that it may all shatter. Compromises are one thing, but you are Lord of Ceallach Macht and Master of Caer Macht; you must live up to those titles."

Aidan gave Ailis a sharp nod, then turned to Sarpedon. "Thank you for the assistance, Sarpedon. Know that I am a man of my word; I will fulfill my part of the Quest. Animamancy is not an easy Skill to train, but I will work on it as best I can while dealing with my other responsibilities. While that happens, I want to invite your people to relocate to Ceallach Macht, if they wish. You already heard what I want from the city, and I believe our interests may align somewhat in that regard. I understand that you value your privacy, and I am willing to dedicate a portion of the city or the surrounding area to be an enclave of the Sapphire Sky Horde, where your own laws and traditions govern, subject only to the overall laws of Ceallach Macht. I also want to extend an additional invitation to you personally. I find myself in need of advisors, and you know more about Places of Power than anyone else in my circle. Would you be willing to take up such a position?"

The gargoyle cocked his head and thought for a moment, then nodded. "I do believe I will, young—that is, Lord Aidan, so long as you respect my judgment on what information to provide."

Aidan gave Sarpedon the same piercing look he'd directed at Ailis, but it was somewhat harder to win a staring contest with a living statue, and impossible to read his expression. Eventually, Aidan proposed a compromise. "If you accept, your job is to advise Lord Aidan, ruler of Ceallach Macht and Master of Caer Macht, not Aidan Lostlorn, the lonely human. I don't care if you withhold information that would affect me personally, but if your inaction hurts the people under my care, I will be extremely displeased."

The gargoyle's facial expression changed, but the differences were too subtle for Aidan to make head or tail of Sarpedon's thoughts. Was that a hint of sadness? He just didn't know. Regardless, Sarpedon bent his head forward and said, "Very well, my Lord, I accept your terms. May I ask when you intend to return to Ceallach Macht? There are matters I must attend to and messages I must pass along."

"Two weeks from now. That will give the Automatons time to work and allow all of us to make our preparations."

"Two weeks it is, then. By your leave?" Aidan nodded his permission, and the gargoyle left the chamber on astonishingly quiet feet.

Aidan gathered Riama up into his arms, then led the centaurs out of Caer Macht. Once they reached the entrance of the tunnel, Aidan faced west and looked at the sun, just beginning to set behind the distant mountains; after a moment of quietly soaking in the beauty of the Realms, he swung his leg over Brighid's back and settled his familiar in front of him. "Back to the village; there is much work to be done, and time waits for no man."

Ansovald, called by some the Nighthawk, by some the Carrion Crow, and by other coarser names besides, studied the report on his desk, reading it from start to finish for the third time. At first, he dismissed it as more of the internecine inter-tribal warfare among the subhumans, but something about his informant's words nagged at the back of his mind. Centaurs traditionally do not have high affinity for fire magic, nor do any of the tribes which surrounded their territory. For a Fire Mage with Skill sufficient to master a spell capable of being seen from miles away to have slipped by unremarked until now was troublesome. Perhaps it was an exaggerated story; his informant had not witnessed the supposed battle first hand, nor had the one who told them. Ansovald, however, did not rise to his current power by being lackadaisical about his information gathering. He lifted the small silver bell from his desk and rang it once. Immediately, the door leading out of his office opened, and his manservant entered and bowed silently, awaiting his Lord's command.

"Sel, send for Kaleb. I’ve got a job for him out in the Wildlands."

"At once, my Lord," replied Sel in a soft voice, bowing and slipping out from the office to complete his task. Ansovald did not even hear him, having already dismissed his servant from his mind. After all, the magic in the heavy iron collar around the Elf's neck prevented its wearer from acting in any way to harm the one who it was keyed to. Lord Ansovald, Spymaster of the Kingdom of Gilhardt, Chosen of Rathar, the God of Cunning, Patience, and Detachment, prided himself on being thorough.