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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/JustThatOtherDude on 2024-09-07 12:03:42+00:00.
Ori’elen Medresiya Far’gosh Ostolyed V2.0
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The heat within the pit is unforgiving, as always. Despite her having to resort to plucking a not insignificant amount of her feathers to allow for cooling of the flesh beneath, there’s only so much that can be done when the air around her is already hotter than comfort can allow. Especially in the tunnels that branch away from the main shaft that went straight from the ground above to depths that even light can no longer reach. How long was it since she saw light other than from glowbulbs and the dim glow of cheap mana crystals they lined these caves?
But then she wasn’t down here for comfort. She didn’t come down here for light.
Or palaces.
Or the freedom of flight.
As her aged feathers stood on end at a desperate attempt to cool her off in this war against the heat of the abyss, she adjusted the enchanted cloth wrapped around her beak and face to ward off the fumes of this tunnel.
An old and battered sending crystal, its wooden case replaced multiple times at this point was fastened to the skin around her ear canal. She absentmindedly touched it with a worn finger as if it were a prayer bead. She still tried to send through it, hoping that the one who wore its pair would reply. Pointless and futile, she knew, that other crystal must long be lost to time by now, looking at how the one she’s wearing isn’t emitting anything.
How long ago did they find this hole in the ground? She lost count and probably any care to even try.
Millions of people and an empire gone in what was effectively overnight and at the very center of that, was this abyss. The people over at the surface have come to refer to the area where the Empire of Samastra used to be as the “Dead Lands” and from what she heard from the supply caravans that head over to the upper reaches of their camp, the place was pretty much that… dead. True, plants and trees still grow, but other than the odd bug, no other form of life even deigned to go there.
As always, when her mind wanders to thoughts of the surface, her head looked up as if on instinct. She can’t deny missing the skies but…
I miss her more.
The thought lanced through her heart like pangs of regret often do. She’s been down here a good, what? Forty years? The mana in these depths are thin, if present at all at times. At least, not in any form she can draw from or even shelter them from the ravages of the Void Outside.
Turns out, the mana that sheathed their entire world protected it from the effects of the Void. Time… it would seem… ran much, much faster the thinner mana became. A mistake her and the crew realized when they were down here a year and they met with an expedition with some of their children, all grown, searching for them who were gone for almost a decade back up top.
So few were left of that original group now. She couldn’t blame the ones who left. She doubted anyone would be ready for that kind of consequence, much less if they didn’t know about it.
But still, she committed herself to this. So much so that she relinquished her place as Queen of her land, her titles, her egg… their egg. An egg already suffused with her mana and that only needed a father. One she trusts her parents would have likely found by the time she set off on this journey all those years ago.
It was around three years into her journey down here that she decided to no longer concern herself with events on the surface. Whether it was because everyone she cared for up there already moved on or if she just couldn’t bear to hear another “all is well” every other day from a stranger. Not to mention that the deeper they went, the faster time went by at the surface to the point that there’s just no need to think about that anymore.
True, descendants of the original search party still clung to the middle portions of their journey and even establish a town there, albeit a rather tiny one of less than a hundred people who dedicated themselves to this quest. So it’s not like there would be families there, thank the god San for that, at least.
She probably wouldn’t be surprised that this expedition would be some strange legend up top to spook the kids in bedtime or for bards to use when needing a quick drink from the taverns.
As she affixed a mana crystal to the cave wall, she stole a glance at her hand. Not like she needed to, but she can’t help but notice how the sheen from her feathers have long since faded. Her decades of not embracing the skies have taken their toll on her wings as the appendage that ran from her wrist up to her elbow to her shoulder has atrophied to nothing more but sheets of feathered flesh strapped to her arms.
It’s not the first time the thought crossed her mind, but, would she even recognize her now that she’s aged into this sorry state? Her beautiful, vibrant, indomitable, nigh immortal elven Hero looking at her decrepit body stretched out and molting in these forsaken pits? The thought kept her up at night, she’s ashamed to admit, knowing how shallow it is sometimes.
Still, she won’t give up looking for her. That woman has given this world and the souls of its very afterlife more than a second chance at a peaceful existence. It was up to her and those that dedicated themselves to her cause to find the Hero and bring her back so she can get the reward she deserves.
Give her the life you wanted with her, you mean.
She found herself thinking bitterly.
She shook her head away from such thoughts and back to the task at hand; looking for clues as to what transpired all those years ago.
Sometimes, the abyss would have tunnels like the one she’s in right now. Hot, beyond sweltering, shafts that meander outwards and upwards from the main bore like branches of tree… or roots growing the wrong way. Once in a while, she would find strange artifacts inside those tunnels that should point at some clue as to what happened to the Empire, but so far, nothing.
Like the artifact that she accidentally kicked with her boots just now. She can tell from the sound that it would once again be made of that strange material. Deceptively light but surprisingly sturdy -despite them seemingly being ancient - and almost seamless boxes with wonderfully and terrifyingly complex metal pieces inside them.
Leathered ivory, as they have come to dub it as. It was fairly common in these parts, though they didn’t know how and what it was made of. Despite being sturdy enough to support a surprising amount of weight both hanging and carried, and strong enough to withstand blades, it’s not as sturdy as a well crafted, well enchanted wooden breastplate from any smith. And the ones they find in this kind of heat almost always crumble or melt like wax in their hands, as some unfortunate members of their party can attest to.
Fortunately, she was wearing a heat resistant charm for just these kinds of occasion. Sure, she can use gloves, but an Aviex like her need the her hands to touch something solid, else she fall over from lack of balance.
The item she picked up is one of those leathered ivory things that suggested the shape of a crossbow sans the bow arm. Although, unfortunately, as she picked the item up, all that was left of it was the stock and foregrip and the parts that constituted it as a whole seemed to have long since rotted away.
However, something reflected the light of the mana crystals to the other side of the cave. As she approached it, she realized it was a tube of that same strange material, but with glass lenses affixed to both ends.
She’s seen a few of those brought back by some of her people during this expedition. Unfortunately, although their functions were obvious as some sort of viewing apparatus, probably an aiming assisting device considering they were almost always found near these crossbow type artifacts, whatever mechanism allowed them to function as intended are no longer there. Why such devices even needed to be so complex is a question that baffled everyone at camp with the general consensus being that whatever people that are capable producing such precisely crafted fire-touched objects can only do so because of the limitations of size. Although, some artifacts that are about as large as her torso belied that notion.
But the more commonly accepted explanation was that these people were touched with the excesses of madness borne from having access to enough Fire to craft such things to the point of frivolity.
One such frivolity being a necklace of all things. Not even a pretty one. It was of such utilitarian design that even without them recognizing the embossed characters on the flattened sheet of metal, they immediately knew what it was for.
A nametag.
Metal, a product of Fire from the gods. A substance which cannot be produced without at the very least sacrificing some ability to wield mana or risk your lives in the maws of dragons.
One of the greatest materials in the world both symbolically and physically, the stuff of legends. Literally.
And it’s been used as…
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1fb5c8j/elves_and_battlecruisers_21/
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