- From the Journal of Eratus Riverwood
My boot pressed into something soft and foul as I stepped out of the dark alley and onto the moon-lit street. I resisted the urge to look, knowing very well that it was likely droppings left behind by some pack animal. I lost count of how many I stepped in on the way here.
I now stood in the middle of the street, overlooking the docks, and was struck by a breeze that assaulted my nose with the scent of rotten fish, old grime, and stale water. At a younger, more innocent point in my life, I would be gagging, but I had been hardened to a whole repository of unique stenches. I withstood it like a bulwark amidst a hail of arrows and scanned the surroundings.
I stood before a level of metropolitan squalor that defied my lowest expectations, even within Denerim. Crooked buildings surrounded me, wrought with leftover planks and doors fashioned by patchwork bits of nailed wood. Miniature streets carved their way in all directions with piles of refuse from which came the faint squeals and chirps of rats.
Among it all, a solitary structure rose from the others. A stone tower split the middle of the largest street like a steadfast rock against a current. The moonlight bathed its smooth surface, making it shine like a beacon amidst the dark buildings around. It stood out here as much as when I saw it through the glass iconography of Andraste in the Chantry.
At its center stood a well-fitted door, light glimmering around its edges, ebbing and shimmering as an open invitation. Feathers adorned the pathway towards it, leaving me no doubt as to who awaited me inside.
Every instinct and no small amount of irritation tempted me to draw my sword and barge in demanding answers. However, she was the only person in this world who seemed to know more about my circumstances and was my best bet at finding a way out, despite the indecipherable riddle that sent me all around Denerim.
“I sense a singular entity in the distance,” the Lorekeeper telepathically told me from the disc tied to my belt. “Signatures match an earlier registrant from the forest.”
“I figured,” I said.
“What will you do, Knight-Lieutenant?”
“From the looks of it, it seems she wants to talk, so talk we shall. We may even get some answers, such as whether she was going to help us… or if all this was some sort of game. Wouldn’t surprise me, but either way… We’ll take it from there.”
I opted not to draw my sword against my instincts and stepped across the street, leaving large prints as my boots scraped along the cobblestones in my attempt to rid the foulness. Then I pressed the door open.
A single table was all that was visible, along with a candle, a brown teapot, and two wooden cups. On the opposite end sat a cloaked and hooded figure who lifted her head at my approach. Flemeth faced me with eyes as yellow as an owl, crinkled along the edges with age. She sipped from one of the cups with the barest quirk of a smirk.
“Why, it took you long enough,” she cackled. “Do come in and please close the door behind you. The stench outside reminds me why city life is ill-suited to my constitution.”
I stepped through but felt something ripple as I entered. Only twice have I felt this, the first when I stepped across the mirror that took me to this world, and the second below the deep roads, where I saw the visage of a black city across a gray-green horizon.
Flemeth regarded me with an innocent look that I took as anything but innocent. I closed the door behind me, and in that instant, the horrid smell of the docks dissipated, replaced with the rich earthiness of a forest.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Flemeth slid the spare cup in my direction.
“It is a tad bit dark in here,” I said, raising my hand and willing the light from within.
Light flared like the midday sun from my hand, sending the darkness throughout the room reeling back in its wake. As the shadows receded, I looked around and frowned as I saw nothing else but the walls. No hidden monsters, no hidden ambushers, no demons screaming in pain from exposure to the holy light.
Flemeth peered back without flinching or displaying any signs of pain in its presence, which was not as relieving as I thought.
“Hm… this brings back memories.” She blinked, pouring tea from the pot into the spare cup. “I don’t fault you, but in some cultures, it would be rude to assume ill will of your host.”
“You will have to excuse me then, since in my experience, a lack of caution had nearly cost me my life,” I said, letting the light dim, allowing the shadows to consume the room once more.
“Fair.” She rested her cheek against her arm. “So, are you satisfied to know that I am no demon? Neither the ones you faced from whence you came nor the ones you have undoubtedly met here?”
I took a seat opposite her, setting down my pack on the floor with a loud crinkle.
“On that I am, but your words tell me you are aware of my journey into the deep roads,” I said. “Which means you have been following me.”
“Why would I not?” she said. “When you have lived as long as I have, you will find that there are scant few things that keep the days interesting. And I must say, your journey has provided this old crone with no small measure of amusement.”
“So is that what this was?” I said, feeling anger bubbling up in my throat. “For your amusement?”
“And if it was?”
There was a moment of silence, and I sighed.
“Then perhaps I was the fool,” I said. “But hindsight makes things seem so simple. I made the best decision at the time from what I knew, and despite it all, your words led me to shelter, food, and a way to understand this world.”
“Hm… quite thoughtful,” she said, pointing a shriveled finger at the extra cup of tea. “Have a sip, the herbs to make this were painstakingly collected. Not by myself, of course, you would have to thank my daughter for that.”
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I pored over the cup; the contents smelled nice, but I knew all too well how poisons could be hidden.
“Unless, of course, trust… is an issue,” she said. “A lack of which would be quite understandable given a man of your experience.”
She lingered on the word far too long for it to be a coincidence, and it was a hint which I caught.
“Was all of this dawdling around just a way to see if you could trust me?”
There was a brief knowing twinkle in Flemeth’s eyes.
“If so, then I would like to know if I have earned it.” I raised the cup. “Through my actions, both now and in the past. But know that trust, after all, is a two-way street.”
I held an inkling of the light mentally willed and ready to be used to cleanse me the moment I felt something off. As I tasted the liquid, it was warm with a hint of fruit, but nothing off, at least not yet. I set the cup on the table and we stared at each other in silence. As the moments passed, I felt neither delirium nor pain; instead, an odd sense of freshness passed through me, reinvigorating me from the day’s events.
“It isn’t quite easy to find tea of this quality,” said Flemeth. “One worthy of only the finest of kings.”
“Then I appreciate the effort,” I said. “Please pass on my thanks to your daughter.”
“Hah,” said Flemeth. “It was a punishment for her latest stunt. Dear me, but I think it is time I let the poor girl spread her wings.”
I took another sip from the cup.
“Though I daresay I have had better at home,” I said. “Which I miss rather dearly.”
“Oh,” said Flemeth, feigning injury. “You wound this old lady’s heart.”
“You should know I am not one for pleasantries,” I said.
“Hm… that didn’t seem to be quite the case,” Flemeth smirked. “You made quite the display upon the alienage stage.”
I could feel the blood rushing through my cheeks at the memory of Shianni, though I kept my face impassive. Flemeth was proving to be anything but direct, and though it seemed like we had come to an understanding, it felt like she was circling me, like an owl circling its prey. I wasn’t even sure now if I could win if it came down to a physical confrontation.
“But mayhaps I am getting ahead of myself,” said Flemeth. “Your entry to the city was quite impressive. I didn’t expect a man of your stature to focus so intently on necessities rather than luxuries. In short order, you found a market for your talents, earned coin, and found shelter and sustenance, all while gathering truths from gossip and vain chatter to identify the means to move forward.”
“I’ve had good teachers,” I said. “Who taught me the importance of staying focused on my goal. If anything that I do impresses you, it is only due to them.”
“Modesty,” she tapped a finger repeatedly against her lip. “Admirable, if only due to its absence in so many others. But that single-minded focus on a goal, I’m not quite sure of that.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“The elvhen girl you rescued in the market. Why? You owed her no allegiance, nor did you have anything to gain by doing so.”
“I only did what anyone with a shred of decency would,” I said. “Besides, it wasn’t completely selfless. Her gratitude earned me her help later in the marketplace.”
Flemeth laughed. “I’ve lived long enough to know what lurks in the hearts of the common man, and what they would have done in your place. You hardly struck me to have helped her expecting anything in return.”
She tilted her head. “Does the same go for her dear cousin, whom you saved in your first venture with the sellswords? One might argue you’d have been better off leaving her to her fate and taking her share of the earnings.”
“Again different.” I shifted uncomfortably. “We were in the same job together; it would only benefit me to help her. And besides, she helped me find my way through the city afterwards.”
“Really?” Flemeth arched a brow. “Especially when all the others you were with were so keen to leave her be and split her earnings among you. She also showed quite a display of gratitude she displayed upon waking.”
“She came around,” I snorted, that whole debacle with Kallian seemed quite funny now in hindsight. “Patience is a virtue, which I have in spades.”
“And what of the widower and her son? A man like you would not take menial tasks for menial pay without some recourse. And what of the bread you passed on to the urchins.”
“I don’t see what the point is with all these questions.” I glared at her. “So, I did some good deeds. Is what I do that uncommon that you find it interesting?”
“Hardly,” said Flemeth. “Especially not to someone bestowed with magical prowess.”
“What I wield is no mere magic,” I said. “It is something above any arcane sorcery.”
“Interesting,” said Flemeth. “I’ve heard that before as well.”
I was getting tired of her pestering and decided to get to the point.
“Know that all I did, everything was to help me establish myself, with the end goal that you might be able to get me home. So, I would like to know, are you able to help me or not?”
I placed both hands on the table in a show of defiance.
She leaned forward, fingers laced together and matching my gaze.
“I simply wanted to comment that for someone so interested in departing, you’ve put a great deal of effort into weaving yourself into the lives of those here,” she said. “But it would be remiss of me to renege on your trust after everything you’ve been through and so…”
Flemeth pulled a thick notebook from below the bench, which I swore did not exist before. She slid it across the table towards me.
“What is this?” I asked.
“A record,” said Flemeth. “A remnant of someone who once trotted the path that you now walk. One who sought to return to the realm from whence they came.”
She slipped across white stone the size of a fist with a dull-green inscription laid over it, which turned out to be a hearthstone large enough that I had only seen it in a museum. Large enough that it could move more than mere parcels.
“Where did you get this?” I said. “This is an ancient hearthstone, one of the first created during the founding of the Arator Empire.”
“Huh,” said Flemeth. “She never did tell me what it was called. It was a token left behind, among other things.”
“She?” I said, then looked down at the book. “If she did possess a hearthstone, then it means she came from Azeroth. Did she ever make it back?”
“Unfortunately, no,” said Flemeth, which caused my spirits to dampen.
“What happened to her then?”
“I will not spoil the details,” said Flemeth. “But it was a personal decision for her, though I daresay she came quite close towards the end of her tale. Know though to retrace her steps, you will need my help.”
“I see,” I said, sensing the catch. “And what is it that you want in return?”
“Nothing disagreeable,” said Flemeth. “At least, based on your recent endeavors. It is related to a grave tide, one that this world has faced four times before and which it has withstood as much. Already, I can see there will be those who lead the defense, and yet it would not do me good to nudge their destinies so directly, which is where you come in.”
“So, you want me to do what… advise? This sounds dangerous.”
“All great undertakings involve risk. I will only ask for your help, up until the passage leading you home becomes available.”
I looked at her, then at the book, then at the hearthstone. She was very well offering me a choice, but it felt like rejecting her offer was to make a grave error. Something told me she knew more than what was contained in the book. Which meant that I had no choice at all.
I sighed. “Very well, then I accept.”
“Splendid.” She leaned forward. “But do read through the book, it will be quite enlightening. And… there appears to be a guest outside.”
The moment she said that, someone pounded against the door.
“Would you care to get the door for this old crone?” said Flemeth.
I raised a brow, then stood up to get the door. The knocking became more frantic, and I could hear a muffled voice beyond. The thing had to be magicked because it looked extremely rickety from the outside and should have broken from the bashing.
The pounding continued up until I pulled the door open, and I was greeted by an unexpected sight.
“Eratus! Er-“
Kallian nearly punched me mid-swing, but I caught her strike.
“Kallian? What are you doing here?” I said, then noticed her grimace as I realized I was clasping a bandage around her arm, covering a wound that wasn’t there when I last saw her at the end of the festival.
In fact, she was sporting several bandages, covering gashes and cuts throughout her body, and the angle of the wounds told me they were done by weapons, which gave me cause for alarm. She looked out of breath, sweat staining her cheeks and hair frazzled with moisture.
“I followed you from the Chantry,” said Kallian. “The guards told me you sped off into the night, I just followed the prints.”
Kallian heaved, gathering her breath.
Please,” said Kallian. “You must help. The alienage was attacked and they took Shianni.”