The Heart of the Tower

Inside the Tower of Alnya

Gjorn had slipped away from his coterie of guards, casting that rather convenient spell the Wayfares had been drilling into his head as of late. One that cloaked his footsteps in silence, obscured his already ephemeral form in this place. He had long ago noticed that his body was far less solid when he was in The Elsewhere, more shadow than form. Though, he could recognize his own form as his own, many here had a difficult time seeing where he ended and the shadow sloughing off him started.

He knew he would probably be chastised for shaking off his escorts, but he was tired of the side eyes, the hesitation in their voices as they spoke to him. Tired of the fear in their faces, he just wanted a moment alone to be with his own thoughts. He had wandered his way down a cavern, enjoying the stillness of it. Descending lower, strange lights flickered along the walls, glowing softly in the gloom. Green mushrooms growing from the roof of the rocky tunnel.

Sprites of light flickering from dark corner to dark corner, it reminded him of the fireflies that rose in droves on the pleasant summer nights on the great planes of Galus. The more he focused, he could hear the soft wing beats of the apparent insects drifting from glowing fungi. Like a strange song, without tempo, without chorus, it enthralled him as he inspected each new thing that appeared before him. The longer he walked down, the more oddities popped into his awareness.

Scuttling reptiles no bigger than his thumb, odd little birds that seemed to fly in and out through the rock itself. Still that song only grew louder in his ears, like a deep memory hidden from his mind. The tunnel suddenly opened up into a wide room that he could only describe as a chapel. Though, where stained glass should have sat, only empty alcoves that opened into an inky void graced his eyes. Half written holy books scattering the plinths along the walls, odd runic script he felt he could almost understand, familiar yet foreign.

He felt it was the same tongue as that warding circle under The Black Fortress, it put that same odd curiosity into his mind. Still he now could hear the song directly below him, coming up from the candle lit staircase hidden in the corner. Though, wordless, a chaotic mess of notes, he couldn't help but feel the presence behind it. Like a musician feeling their way through a new chord, or playing with the key of an entire piece.

Curiosity caught at him like a wildfire, making his way down the stairs he just had to see what was making this song. Seemingly like an eternity, the staircase just seemed to grow darker and darker despite the candles burning in their alcoves. Back on the Branches of Tree, he might have hesitated thinking some foul beast or spirit lurked in the bowels of the building, but here... He felt no fear at what lay at the bottom, felt it in his soul.

His feet stepped in something with a splash. For whatever reason, he felt compelled to remove his boots and make sure he was clean before continuing. Like how he had seen some the Calphiti people wash their feet before praying, he just felt this right. Setting his heavy metal shod boots on the last set of steps, he continued. Expecting the water to grow deeper, but it hadn't, it only held close to narrow straight hallway. Again the building felt far larger than he expected, trying his best to stay quiet as the strange song grew louder. The hallway opened into vast and endless sea, inky blackness billowing around him as his eyes adjusted.

"Interesting, they gave you eyes with which to see here." Her voice rang out from the gloom as he made out a... he couldn't find the words for what he saw.

"Alnya, is that you?" Gjorn asked to the thing.

"I am me, I am which you speak. I do not often show my form to the Children, they feel more comfortable when I take their shape." There was no hidden motive behind her words, he felt that. He suspected that like him, he supposed that even a god needed a rest.

"What is this place, Mother?" His voice seemed to echo out, but what it bounced off was beyond him. Though, as his eyes adjusted further, he could make out that what he thought was a sea shimmering softly in some unseen light, he realized he was seeing stars taking shape.

"I suppose you could call it an origin, a loom, an anvil, a harp, a pen to paper. This place is where we built our creations, or at least a small piece of it that I ripped away from our poisoned home." What Gjorn had mistaken for stars in her form he realized now they were Alnya's eyes.

"I, I'm not sure what I'm seeing. Are you making this place still? Why can I see you, but not understand? What am I seeing?" Gjorn stammered out, though some long baked lesson that Hjalti had made habit in him, he knelt down until his knees touched down. Resting his hands on his knees he calmed his mind, listening as Hjalti had taught him, focusing inward.

She was quiet, he heard no breathing but his own. His own heart beat in his ears as that listless song danced sweetly across his mind. Experience had taught him silence from a master was only a test, and patience was the lesson. Waiting for her to speak, waiting for his own questions to come to their own conclusions as his mind filter through what he had seen. "I am surprised, Child. You can see in here, while only those close to their Ascension can do so here in this place. Your mind his calming while being here, even my Darlings find it hard to focus here, trying to grab at the song to do as I do. Yet here you are, waiting. For what, I wonder? You see me as I appear before the others of The Quartet, we do not see much need to hide from each other. But, our children have grown to love us, wanting something physical to hold in their hands. We granted them their forms, thus we took the same form for their comfort until they were ready to see us for what we are."

"So this is your true form? I am seeing a Divine as they are? Why am I not being punished for this?" Gjorn asked, practiced tone even and controlled as he would speak when Hjalti taught him magic and song.

"Is that what the Shadows have been teaching you and the Shadow Touched? I suppose I am not surprised, to look at something with occluded eyes would hide their truth. No, looking upon the true creators of the world has never been a punishment to our children, it is just something most are not ready to see until they understand."

"You call me Child, you claimed me as one of your own. Why? Why, when everyone else here sees me with such fear?" Gjorn asked, still trying to keep his voice level, trying to make it sound like he held no resentment in his voice. They had all told him why, they had all told him and he agreed, he had to admit he agreed. Hurtful though it was.

"Because no matter how far removed you are from me, you are still a Fae Born soul. You are one of mine. I created the Fae, and the Shadows made you with what I left behind." She answered, a strange solemnness to it.

"Left behind." He felt it more than he saw it. A hurt from her, something she didn't want to acknowledge.

"I couldn't save all of them. I tried to take as many as I could with me, I was scared. I was now alone without my siblings."

He knew all too well the need for sacrifice, the Dwarves had long ago learned this as they waged war with the Gnomes. Lives and land taken, blood spilled for the greater good for their people. To take back what was lost, a steep price was always paid. A cold road that always took its toll, "I understand."

When he looked out to the sea of half formed stars in the inky blackness, he didn't notice Alnya take on a Dwarven form and walk up to him. He didn't notice as she knelt before him in the same position he knelt in, he didn't notice that her eyes were open wide, subtle emerald fire licking the sides of her face. When he did turn back to her, he wasn't expecting to see a more perfect version of a Dwarf in such a noble pose. "What do you mean you understand, Gjorn?"

"I understand that you did all you could. I see this place you have built with the aid of the Children, from what I've been told it wasn't an easy task to hide away in plain sight. It wasn't easy to shatter a world just for the sake of preserving a future for those who would survive. I understand sacrifice better than most, having made many for my people back home." He told her.

"You don't hate me? After everything you've been told, after leaving you all to the Shadows and their vile corruption?" Her voice was almost broken, on the verge of sadness.

"Hate you? No. I suppose I am happy that you were wrong, that we are not monsters. That even life built from an evil source can and is a great good. You all are so terrified of me for being a Shadow Touched soul, yet at every turn here everyone expects me to do something? Turn into a monster? A weapon? A plague? But, when you have lived your entire life on the Branches of the Tree, when you know that the Shadows as you call them are trying to be kind to us, despite their cruelty at times, this broken world as you see it, is normal to us."