DB Lazarus
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70. Complications - IV
🕑 Added 2025-05-03 18:00:04 +0000 UTC“You are a fool.”
“For what? Forcing you to come here? Or talking back to the Vísir?”
He stared at me incredulously. “Both, but one doesn’t tend to live a long life if they make a habit of irritating a [Shaman].”
I couldn’t disagree. “That may not have been my best decision. I think the mines are having a greater effect on me than I realized.”
I had improved at dealing with higher Aether concentrations, but had I really become immune? What was a normal response, and what was Aether-induced?
“Yet you show no reluctance to go to the places where it is the most dense.” I frowned, and he shook his head. “Can you really deny the truth in this? Your walks through the caverns aren’t a secret. You take far longer than you need when you have a safe place with the Oresian.”
“But the Verndari—”
“He made his play, but you proved resilient—much to our surprise.” I almost missed a step at that. How much of my daily activities were common knowledge in the group? “Now I imagine he’d settled for you staying out of his way. Your friend with the Oresian has also not gone unnoticed…nor the benefits it has provided.”
“So what are you saying?”
“You’re doing more than needed or expected.”
How easy it would be to hide away. “I…I need to get stronger.”
“A triple fool, then. Too many fall prey to the allure of power, not realizing the extent of the risks until it is too late.” His voice dropped, eyes distant. “Take it from an old man who has seen too much.”
We walked in silence for a bit after that.
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t think it is quite that simple for my situation.”
“Perhaps not. I don’t know what would have happened to me if not for you. I will not forget what you have done for me, especially given our people’s animosity.”
“You’re my patient. And, I made a promise.”
“Yes. And you kept it. Though, I still don’t know which of the two is more unbelievable.”
“What do you mean?”
He snorted. “How many Human [Healers] do you know that would treat an Ættar?”
I walked in silence, debating just how much to give away. “I don’t know. I would like to think most once they got past any initial fear.” He gave me a long look. “What?”
“You do not hail from here, do you?”
“As I keep telling people, I don’t. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“Because Humans would have to travel countless leagues to find another hospitable swath of land to settle in. The old stories tell of other parts of the world where pockets are more common, but here, they are rare.”
“Oh. So all the Humans in this area should be acquainted with Ættir.” He nodded. “I see.” I sighed. “Well, mine aren’t. And if you are wondering, I don’t know how I got here.”
“Probably for the best.”
Did I want to know the reason why?
“Before coming here, I... Let’s just say that I don’t share the same concerns as other Humans. I just want to be considered part of the team.”
“You don’t realize what you’re asking.”
“Can you at least tell me why?”
He finally spoke only after we had left the Crafting Quarter and dropped off the cart’s load. “You deserve some of the truth. It would be fair to say that Humans hate us. While many of my brothers would deny it, it would be best to say we fear Humans.”
“Fear. But aren’t you more powerful?”
“That we are. However, our fear stems from what Humans bring about.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The Sunderings. It goes by other terms: Calamities, Apocalypses, Judgements, the End Days. For as long as far back as our histories go, Humans have brought destruction. We fear their rise for what it portends. It is our job to hold that in check as no one else will.”
I stopped mid-step. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You are telling me that you go to war all because of a possibility?”
“Not a possibility. An inevitability—if we don’t step in.”
My mind spun. “All this slaughter because of some inane belief!” I clamped my mouth shut. Now was not the time to speak before thinking.
His nostrils flared. He took a few slow breaths before continuing. “I will forgive the disrespect due to your ignorance. We are not monsters. We do not ‘slaughter,’ nor do we wage war indiscriminately. We keep Humans in check. They are fine as long as they do not expand.”
Is this religious fanaticism at its peak? If so, I need to tread carefully.
“How do you even know that this happens?”
“The world bears its scars.”
“But what about other populations of Humans? How can you do that across the whole world?
“We are not the only tribe. We are a nomadic people, and we have spread far. We have forsaken a home for this mission.”
“A mission from…”
“The Mother.”
“And this has gone on for how long?”
“Countless cycles.”
“Millennia?”
He frowned at the term. “How could anything be that precise? But for as long as we have existed, so have the stories of the Sundering.”
The scope of it… Just how bad were these catastrophes that an entire people made it their primary mission to contain Human expansion?
“And you think it is still needed?”
“I do.”
I feared the answer to my next question. “When will your mission be done?”
“When Humans cease to exist.”
“Just Humans?”
“Yes. They always strive to surpass their limits without regard for the damage they wrought. Others have come close, but the root always comes back to the Humans.”
“And if a clan fails?”
His jaw tightened. “Some do. But they are not alone. If we hear her cries of pain, we gather to end the plague. In that, we have not failed; as such, we have not had a Great Sundering since time immemorial.”
I shut up. The last great apocalypse had to have been, at a minimum, many, many generations ago, but they continued the mission. The scope and dedication were almost inconceivable. I no longer had doubts. Ættir were fanatics.
We walked in silence as we entered the mine. He broke the silence. “You have doubts.”
It wasn’t a question. “How could I not? You inflict death and destruction on a people for something that hasn’t happened in countless generations. What if you are wrong? Is there not a better way?”
“We are not wrong. But is there a better way? Some of us, our current leader for one, believe there is, but that position is a minority among tribes, and especially our warbands. However, I am not sure it matters. I said we are not monsters, but some of my people do believe in extermination, even if that act can lead to Sundering.”
“So even if some did desire peace, all it would take is a single roving warband to destroy any chance of it.”
He just nodded.
What a terrible world. Even if none of it was true, the wounds reaching back thousands of years…it was too deep. Any new trauma would open it. And maybe the Ættir are right. Humans on Earth almost ended life multiple times in the Cold War. We are now right on our way to a sixth extinction. And if we also had magic…?
“And where do your beliefs fall?”
“I think Humans here are showing all the signs.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“No. It wasn’t.” He stopped before we entered our section. “I want to thank you for your actions. Few would be foolish enough to stand up to the Vísir. Yet you kept your word at your peril. Though I now find myself in debt to a Human, at least it is one with honor.“
I almost dismissed his debt out of hand, but I was no longer that naïve about their culture. He, not I, would determine how this debt of honor was paid. However, I could help.
“I want to thank you for telling me of your history, even if it shows that I may never rise above an outsider. I do have a request. I think I have reached everyone who would take me up on what I have to offer. But the company could use my help. We get so few healing potions as it is, and…I need levels. I know it is a big ask, but could you speak on my behalf to the more senior members in our company? Then, I think more people will actually consider accepting my help.”
He stood there contemplating my request.
“You’re right. That is a big ask, but one I feel obligated to honor. And today’s event will likely dispel any concerns over your intentions. I will speak highly of your help, but I will also say that you cannot promise results.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
I turned to walk off, but his words stopped me. “If you need anything else, you can find me. Or, have Rægnor ask for Iværr Bolvarkær.”
My eyes widened, but he paid no heed, walking off before I could reply in kind.
I let out a breath as he turned a corner and disappeared. What a day. Dorian’s going to flip out.
***
“You are a damn fool.”
I sighed at Dorian’s comment. “That is becoming a common refrain around me, it seems.”
“It is because you deserve it.”
My story with the Vísir had evoked such incredulity that Dorian had long ago stopped mining.
“I needed to make sure she would heal him. I’m already on thin ice.”
Dorian’s back straightened. “Thin ice? No, that is the wrong metaphor. You are a stone crab, and she is a burrower. You only lived because she let you. The way you described the air around you, she was a single step away from melting your innards.”
“Can she do that?”
“Who knows? Do you really want to find out? She is a [Shaman], and a Vísir at that. I wouldn’t be surprised if—as a [Healer]—she matched or exceeded the raw destructive power of Kyria Rhaptis, who, by the way, could bury you alive from fifty paces away with a snap of her fingers. The Vísir hates you for just being Human.” He jabbed his finger into my chest. “You’re a damned fool for tempting her.”
I rubbed where he poked. That’s going to leave a mark.
“Fine! I get it. Avoid interactions with the Vísir, but is that what you want to focus on? What about the whole Great Sundering thing? It seems ridiculous to me that this…myth would be the entire reason that Ættir and Humans are constantly at war.”
“It is less weird than you think. We also have tales of destruction. As a kid, I didn’t believe them, but then I started to leave the city on expeditions. Something has marked the land—solitary mountains, large canyons where none should be. We have even found hints of civilizations that predate our history. I don’t know about their belief regarding Humans being the cause, but the earth was riven by some massive power.”
“Oh.”
It was all I could find the strength to say. Did that make Ættir the good guys and Humans a scourge to be removed?
Dorian bent down and picked up my pick. “Here.” He stretched it out to me, his pity plain as day. “I don’t know the truth of their belief, but the world can be a cruel place. Still, there is always another tunnel to dig.”
“Yeah.” I grabbed my pick, its weight a greater burden than normal. “It’s time to get back to mining.” It wasn’t healthy, but sometimes burying yourself in work was the only way to get through things.
We started excavating, taking turns digging and carting away the fallen rock. I had lost track of time when Dorian finally called a stop.
“Give me a second here.” He stood, examining the wall, then knelt, repeating the same to the floor. I had to wait a while before he gave me his report. “There is another pocket here, but I’m not sure what the best plan is.”
“Another vein?”
“Nothing quite so grand. There is potential, but I think it’s less likely. It is hard to tell now. I think I’ll get a better idea if we keep digging.”
He picked up his pick, but I would have none of that. “Wait, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. You said it has potential. At least explain it.”
He sighed, but he did put down his pick.
“This land is rich in Aether crystal, but a natural network of caves also runs through much of the mountains. I think we are standing above one of them.” He pointed to where he had knelt. “If we dig down in that direction, we will likely crack the top.”
“And wouldn’t that be good?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Less digging.”
“If only. What does a cave most likely have in abundance?”
“Uh, I’m guessing it’s not Aether.”
“Correct. The answer is monsters. Always monsters. Since I can’t detect anything sizable down there, we don’t know what we will find. We’d be going in blind. Sure, something is likely there, but the potential often doesn’t outweigh the risk. Aether and monsters go hand in hand, and it doesn’t take much Aether to support nests. If we’re lucky, we’d discover a rare find like a pool of water infused with Aether, which, given our potion shortage, would be amazing. However, we could easily only find a small vein and a cave chock-full of monsters. It also opens up our network. Even if we reseal it, it still draws other monsters’ attention.”
“So you don’t think it is worth the risk?”
“I want more information. But unless it is a sizable vein, I want to stay away. Someone will have to explore it, but better to leave that to other groups or hold off until after we have found most of the larger veins in the area. Entering that cave entails dropping into darkness with a rope or a ladder. That is a death trap if I ever heard one.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“We keep digging and forget I ever sensed this.”
“Wait, you can’t keep this hidden.”
“Yeah, I can. No one else can sense this. No one else is a [Miner] in the company.”
“What about something like—I don’t know—[Sense Treasure]?”
He pursed his lips. “I mean, that is possible, but the Ættir aren’t exactly [Raiders].”
I threw up my hands. “Then answer me this: were they finding deposits before you joined?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how?” His face paled a bit. “Yeah. Look, Dorian, I get it. You don’t trust the Verndari. But you have finally made some headway here. If you’re wrong and the Verndari finds out you hid this, all that goodwill vanishes in a poof.”
“He takes too many risks. You of all people should realize that. Half the monsters we find in these caves could end you with a single swipe.”
“I know that. Let’s not pretend that loss of trust has no consequences. At the end of the day, it is not your call, but more importantly, you are forgetting about an obvious compromise.”
“Yeah, what is that?”
“We are part of Eiræk’s group. Bring him over and explain it. Let him run it by the Verndari.“
“He will probably just push for opening it.”
“I doubt it. He has had first-hand experience with the outcomes of taking on risky choices.”
“I don’t know…”
“You have seen it with your own eyes. We aren’t the only ones who don’t like his leadership.”
“Maybe.” He tapped his chin. “Perhaps I can also frame this better. There is another richer deposit down that way, and opening this could risk that.”
“Wait? Another one? How rich?”
He nodded. “It is hard to tell exactly, but it’s going to be huge.”
“Large enough that it might be foolish to risk wasting potions.”
“Yeah.” He stared at the earth and shook his head. “You’re right. I am going to have to report this.”
“Tell Eiræk. It’s the right move. If you were the chief, you wouldn’t want your subordinates hiding something from you.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “Should we just do it now?”
“Yeah. Do you want me there?”
“It might be a good idea.”
