Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Forgotten Land
Kallaphae glanced across the ship again from her seat near the rails. Two swords were slung across her back for easy access, while the third, a longblade, leaned against the bench she sat on. Her hood shaded her eyes against the sun, while helping to obscure the black and red lines under her golden eyes. It hardly seemed necessary as her blades were warning enough to keep people away, but there was no need to invite anymore hostilities.
Captain Gerka was speaking to some of his expedition crew, gesturing sharply. He insisted on his title, resulting in a few instances of confusion as the ship’s captain responded to calls not meant for him. The bandages over his eye pressed against his bright red hair and seemed to be barely staying in place. She had signed on with his crew for now, hearing that they were looking for some big treasure. A bit of silver wouldn’t hurt as she tried to figure out what she was doing here. Her strange dream from before her final training trial was still burned into her mind, more real than any dream she’d ever had. The strange, winged woman, urging her to find the Arks, to follow the light, and a platform of gold and glass. Kallaphae wasn’t entirely sure she believed the Arks existed or that they were even something to be found anymore but she had seen strange things in her time. She couldn’t discount the possibility that an artifact of the gods was scattered in pieces across the world. And when she’d told her mentor…well he had urged her to follow her destiny.
She stood, shaking the thoughts from her mind for now, and strapping her third sword back onto its belt, settling it against her back. They would be arriving in Trua soon, and the expedition would set off. Gerka, his crew, and herself had been hired by one of the two priests on board, Morpheus. The red haired man was currently clutching the railing across the ship from her, looking pale and ill as he had most of the journey. It seemed for all the powers of Sacria’s holy men, they couldn’t save themselves from a bout of seasickness. She knew little about the other priest, only really identifying the man by his long silver and blue robes and staff crowned with a holy symbol of Regulus. He wasn’t a part of the expedition, rather continuing on to the boat’s next destination. She had heard his name once. Father something. Armand perhaps.
She had been able to see Trua in the distance for some time, and now the beach wasn’t far. She checked the rest of her gear, and continued to lean against the railing, waiting for arrival as the ship’s captain yelled out orders for docking, men and women weaving across the relatively small deck as they attended to their docking tasks.
A ramp was slid into place over the side of the boat, leading down to the dock as Gerka shouted for everyone to grab their things and leave. Kallaphae made her way across the deck, behind the others and cast a curious look to her right as the ship’s captain laid a hand on the shoulder of the other priest, stopping him.
“Don’t get off yet. We’ll land at Prideholme next. We’ll take off as soon as the rest of the expedition disembarks.”
“Oh, I see. Thank you,” the priest responded with a smile.
Kallaphae missed any more words they may have exchanged as she made her own way down the ramp and onto the dock. Thick forest covered the island, dotting the beach with patches of green. Further inland, where the island rose up into mountains, rocky cliff faces jutted out of the trees, accompanied by a few crumbling statues and structures in places. Already the porters and other adventurers were getting gear set up on the beach, Gerka overlooking everything and shouting orders.
“Hey, you, come over here,” a voice called. Kallaphae looked over to see one of the porters waving at her. She walked over, rolling her shoulders to adjust her longsword’s position on her back.
“I’m Malba. Seems like you did well enough on the journey. Just keep an eye out. Some of these landlubbers aren’t to be trusted. But anyway,” the porter waved to a crate next to him, “Gerka wants everyone to grab their basic stuff for the trip, rations, climbing gear, everything else. Seems like it’ll be a bit dangerous from what he’s saying. Oh, and what was your name, adventurer?”
“Kallaphae,” she said, shaking Malba’s extended hand. She grabbed a pack out of the crate and stood again to see Malba looking over at her weapons with an impressed look on his face.
“Those are quite the weapons you carry. Not often you see someone who dual wields. Even less so a third blade. Their make seems pretty good too. You seem like you know what you’re doing, which,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the group of other adventurers who were crowded together, ignoring the porters and the other expedition members, “you can’t say for every adventurer. Where you from?
“Here and there.”
Malba raised an eyebrow and looked carefully at her hood and swords.
“Well, don’t know how much you know about Trua. But I’ll, uh, I’ll give you the rundown that Gerka gave me. Since the priest over there hired us all, he knows the most, but Trua is supposed to be pretty dangerous. No one really much comes here anymore though. Whatever happened all those centuries ago, demons, or a war, or a curse depending on what tales you believe, it’s not really a very welcoming place. People who do come go missing. So be on your guard as we look for this treasure. Gerka says to tell everyone to follow orders.”
“He would,” Kallaphae muttered and Malba snorted, though his face quickly morphed to one of surprise—likely, Kallaphae mused, due to the fact that she had displayed any humor at all—before he waved her towards the other adventurers and began talking to the other porters about moving supplies to the camp left by the advance party.
She walked past them, now watching the priest, Morpheus. After his journey on the boat he certainly looked worse for wear, sitting on a grassy patch of beach, somehow even paler than he had been on the boat.
“Adventurer!” He gasped out as he saw her looking, “could you–could you get some water? Please?”
“ Yeah, here,” she said, taking the canteen she carried and handing it to him. He drank greedily, breathing heavily as he handed the canteen back to her. Kallaphae remained squatting in front of him curious as he thanked her.
“Aren’t Sacrian priests trained in healing magic?” she asked, tilting her head. Morpheus scrubbed a hand through his hair sheepishly.
“Yeah, we are, but…well, I was never great at it. It’s better if I just have a supply of potions or herbs really. And besides, it doesn’t work when you try to heal yourself. The magic that is.”
“I didn’t know that,” Kallaphae said, sitting down on the grass now, still facing the priest, and a drink of her own from the canteen, “I suppose it makes sense though. So what exactly do you hope to find here?”
“Well,” Morpheus started. Color was finally starting to return to his face and he sat a little straighter, “we’ve heard rumors about a treasure here of course, thanks to the archaeological finds. And the travellers that have returned speak of the murals on the ruins showing an object of great power. And well the history we have discovered of Trua indicates it was beset by some great power centuries ago. Possibly demons even. There might be something relating to the Arks here!” As he spoke, Morpheus began gesturing excitedly.
“Seems like a lot of conjecture for something no one has ever found before,” Kallaphae said, tucking a stray piece of dark hair back into her hood. She hadn’t heard anything about the Arks before when taking the job. Perhaps she should’ve swallowed her pride and spoken to more priests about the things. They were technically holy artifacts. “Assuming something like that is even here, what makes you think we’ll be able to find it? No doubt it’s protected by magic.”
“I guess we just have to hope the gods favor us,” Morpheus responded with a smile, “though faith isn’t for everyone. In that case, hopefully I got the right people for the job.”
“Indeed,” she said, looking up into the mountains of the island.
“Oh I meant to ask,” Morpheus said suddenly, “what was your name? I’ve talked to most of the other adventurers a fair bit but you were…uh, secluded on the way here.”
“I’m Kallaphae.”
A sharp caw was heard as a crow flew overhead, followed by Gerka’s shouting.
“Everyone, gather up, over here!” Kallaphae exchanged a look with Morpheus, sure her annoyed frown was clear even if he couldn’t see her eyes before rising to her feet and walking over, brushing the dirt and grass from the back of her coat. Gerka eyed them all critically, turning his head to make use of his one good eye before continuing.
“You all know why we’re here. There’s some treasure the priest wants us to get. It will be dangerous so don’t lag behind or you’ll be left behind. There should be a map in the packs you got made by the advance party. They said there was nothing to be found,” with this Gerka shot a meaningful look at Morpheus, “but as long as we get paid then I say it’s a success.
“Camp left by the advance party is further inland. Left us some canoes to cross the river next to it. So we’ll make our way up there, assess the supplies and set off tomorrow to the place they marked. Got it?”
A ripple of agreement passed through the group. Gerka nodded once sharply and set off. Kallaphae lingered towards the back of the group, watching the forest around her. She heard the occasional bird and once caught a glimpse of black feathers through the trees. Morpheus had spoken to her for a bit in the beginning but was soon called to the front by Gerka.
The trek to the camp took the better part of an hour and as they drew closer, Kallaphae mused about the lack of anything suggesting animals she had seen. And now, even the bird calls she had heard at first had stopped. She moved toward Gerka, uneasily glancing around.
“Captain,” she called and again louder when Gerka didn’t respond, “Captain!”
“What?” he yelled over his shoulder. Kallaphae didn’t have a chance to respond as a sudden roar filled the air and a hulking grey skinned creature crashed onto the path they were following.
“Trolls!”
Kallaphae hissed a curse that was drowned out by the shouts of the others as she snatched a throwing knife from her wrist sheath, flicking it at the first troll, while pulling her right blade out, holding it in a backhand grip. Her aim wasn’t quite perfect and the knife lodged itself in the troll’s shoulder, leading to another enraged snarl as its beady eyes found her. She drew her other blade and launched herself at it.
Around her, other trolls had appeared from the forest. She distantly heard yells and the sounds of fighting as she focused on her opponent. The troll wielded a hefty club, embedded with shards of rock and what looked to be bone. Kallaphae ducked under its first swing. As she darted close, she slashed one blade across its leg and the other higher, opening a wound in its side.
Its free hand reached for her, and she danced back, forced to roll to the side as the club swung again, one of the bone shards clipping the metal tip on her long blade sheath. Kallaphae grit her teeth as she stood again, this time pulling at the power inside of her. The masters who had trained her told her to imagine the demonic power possessed by any Delain as a ball, a core, inside of her. There would always be effects outside of her control, but she could control much of her power, with enough will. She tugged on that core, imagining a strand of it flowing through her, boosting her physical abilities.
This time as she lunged, she easily outsped the troll’s club, ducking behind it and hamstringing the troll. It bellowed as it fell to a knee and she made quick work of it, severing its spinal cord. She spun, seeing more trolls, most of these smaller, coming towards her. They were easy enough to dispatch and she paused to see the state of the rest of the expedition. The adventurers and even the porters were holding their own, in pairs often. Further up the trail however, Gerka was alone, separated by another large troll from Morpheus. The priest was holding out against a few smaller trolls, blasting them with magic, but his face was panicked.
Kallaphae ran towards him, slashing open the middle of another troll as she moved. Focused on Morpheus, the trolls didn’t see her until it was too late. With her first swings, two heads came cleanly off, and the third troll let out a surprised squawk as two blades sank into its torso before going limp, dropping its spear. She kicked the body off her blades, glancing around again to see that the skirmish had finished. Troll corpses littered the path, and two of the group were bent over a body on the ground, gesturing frantically.
“You alright?” she asked, turning back towards Morpheus. His dark robes were rumpled now, and sported a hole in the left sleeve where she could see a bloody gash.
“I’m alright,” he said shakily, before looking at her, “that was—you’re quite terrifying with those swords.”
Offering no response, Kallaphae knelt to wipe her blades on the rags worn by the fallen trolls and sheathing them.
“By the gods,” Morpheus muttered, surveying the group. Many sported various injuries, already pulling out bandages and wrapping bleeding wounds or poking carefully at other injuries.
“I don't think he'll make it,” Morpheus waved at the man on the ground, “but these should be able to help the others. Here help me pass them around.” The priest opened his pack and pressed red healing potions into her hands. Kallaphae opened her mouth to protest but Morpheus had already moved on. Sighing, she approached the groups of adventurers, offering the bottles to those with the worst injuries, while those less injured took a sip of the liquid and passed them between each other. Morpheus had gone to the two trying to help the man on the ground and she glanced over once to see him shake his head and the two’s shoulders to slump in defeat.
Their party had totaled twenty with the porters, the hired adventurers, and Morpheus. Given the number of trolls that had attacked so suddenly, one death was a blessing, though she doubted everyone would see it that way.
“Let’s check the camp,” Gerka yelled, “make sure supplies are still there. Anyone able to will set up. Those of you not too badly injured can help the priest take care of the wounded. We’ll rest up and take everyone we can with us tomorrow.”
The camp was in disarray, down of the tents left by the advance party were in need of mending from the holes slashed into them. Crates of supplies were open and their contents strewn across the ground. The boats on the river were thankfully untouched though and they were able to salvage enough supplies to supplement what they had brought with them, so the expedition would continue with the hired adventurers who were well enough setting out tomorrow with Morpheus. The capable adventurers, Gerka included, totaled seven.
Everyone was busy setting up more tents, mending the slashed ones, preparing dinner, or taking care of those who had been injured. Another party member, a mage, who had suffered pretty serious injuries from the attack died in the hours they took to set everything up.
Finishing her own task of mending one of the tents, Kallaphae found her way towards Morpheus, hoping she could get more information about what they might find about the Arks here from him and what else the church might know about them. He had stepped out of the tent where the injured were and was shifting his weight back and forth as he stood. He looked up as she approached and offered a weary smile.
“Ah Kallaphae. What can I do for you?”
“Everything going alright with them?” she said, waving toward the tent entrance.
“As well as can be expected I guess,” he said with a sigh, “I…worry it might be too late for some of them even with everything we’ve done.”
“Every adventurer knows the risks they run with this life,” Kallaphae said simply.
“I-I suppose so,” Morpheus stuttered.
“And Trua is known to be dangerous, so…” she trailed off with a shrug. Morpheus rubbed at his arm nervously. The gash on his arm had been bandaged, but the hole in robes had yet to be mended.
“What do you think the artifact here is? Is it the Ark?”
“Well, the Arks were said to have been split up into seven pieces and hidden across Arkesia by the Sidereals, the ones who fought against the demon invasion centuries ago. But…no one really knows where they are. There’s always been rumors, but this is the most promising one we’ve had. I hope it’s one of the Arks but it seems unlikely. The Sidereals were only here a few times if our records are correct. But the monuments and other evidence the archaeologists found show that the people of Trua had…well the translations are odd…a way to the Arks. So perhaps a map.”
“And if it’s nothing?”
“Then I suppose I start over,” Morpheus said softly.
***
Kallaphae woke early enough the next morning to be mostly ready by the time Gerka began forcing people up and out of their bedrolls. She had elected to sleep under the trees rather than in the tent, with her coat keeping her covered and protected from the bugs. The ones willing to drink Delain blood.
She had finished rebraiding the three braids on the right side of her head and put her hood up again as one of the other adventurers came up to her, grumbling before telling her that Gerka had sent him over to her to get a move on, before walking away, still complaining under his breath.
They would be heading upriver to where the advance party had said a strange door blocked any further progression. An explosives expert had been added to the expedition to get past the stone door. It was suspected that the ruins of a major city were there.
She boarded a boat with Morpheus and Gerka, watching in amazement as they passed massive statues with missing limbs and bright murals. Morpheus began speaking in an awed voice, sharing the story of the Arks again as they passed the murals describing it. How Regulus, first among the gods, and the God of Light had created the Ark, naming it the light of creation.
“The Ark would give any wielder godlike powers of creation. Or of destruction. No doubt because of that, whatever we find will be guarded by traps.”
“You gonna keep flapping your gums, priest?” Gerka snapped. Morpheus jumped and stuttered out an apology, remaining quiet for the rest of the trip. More than once, Kallaphae scowled in Gerka’s direction, unimpressed with how he chose to lead the expedition.
Arriving at the dock, they unloaded the two rafts they had taken. With only seven adventurers and Morpheus making up the group, they were down nearly half of their original team, something that had drawn plenty of complaints from the rest of the adventurers until Gerka had reminded them of their pay off for this, saying the percentages would be adjusted according to everyone’s work. Kallaphae scoffed softly as Gerka related this, adjusting the strap of her longsword sheath and checking her other weapons across her person. She looked up to see Morpheus staring into the forest.
“This place…doesn’t feel normal.”
“Well,” Gerka said, “seems like we’re on the right track then. Move it!”
Morpheus looked helplessly as the other adventurers took off, cajoling each other as they raced to see who would make it first. He glanced at Kallaphae who just sighed and followed behind at a more reasonable pace. She heard a shuffling as he scrambled to catch up to her.
“What kind of traps do you think we’ll find here?” She asked as he fell in step next to her.
“Oh, well it could be anything I guess. The previous teams have found physical traps, pits, spikes, the like. But with what we’re looking for…something like that will definitely be protected by magic.”
They caught up with the rest of the group, who had slowed as Gerka continued shouting instructions at everyone. Everyone was to remain in groups. Being left alone was dangerous, especially when they didn’t know what to expect. He ran over the plan again once more before sending everyone forward again.
“Now make sure to—”
Gerka was cut off by a spear slicing his arm and lodging itself in the ground next to him. A spear that Kallaphae had seen in the fight yesterday.
“Hellfire,” she hissed, drawing her dual blades and turning in time to block an attack with her blades crossed. Chaos erupted around her as an even larger party of trolls poured out of the forest than they had fended off yesterday. A large one stalked out, wearing what looked to be a cobbled together leather breastplate of smaller pieces, wielding a sword of its own. Kallaphae danced around her opponents, little more than a whirl of blades as she tugged at the ball of power inside her, speeding her movements and putting more power behind her strikes. The runes on her blades sizzled as she directed power through them as well, activating the flame runes on them, heating her blades so they trailed fire.
“Fall back! There’s too many!” Gerka yelled, his voice just barely carrying over the cacophony of battle. Kallaphae grit her teeth as she moved towards the bridge ahead of them. She had carved a path nearly there, when she saw the large, sword wielding troll bearing down on one of the mages. She favored her left leg, which sported a trail of blood. She summoned a bolt of lightning that hit the troll but seemed to do little. Her focus and power were likely affected by her wound.
Spitting out another curse, Kallaphae sheathed her dual blades, and loosed a dagger at the troll. It sank into its arm and the troll roared with rage, looking away from the mage. Kallaphae drew her longblade and planted herself in front of the mage.
“Move,” she snarled over her shoulder, blocking the downswing of the troll with a grunt. She had no time to see if the mage had fled as she tried to take down the large troll. It swung the sword like a club rather than like any swordsman she’d faced, but despite its clumsiness with the weapon, the troll’s reach was its own problem.
She dodged under a particularly wide swing and had slashed her own sword across its torso when a boom sounded, followed by a wave of force that knocked her over, blade sinking deep into the troll’s stomach. She looked in the direction of the sound to see Gerka standing next to the explosives expert.
They had blown up the bridge, stranding her with the remaining trolls.