"It's not up for me to decide," he said, deflecting the young man's questions. Athar sighed through his nostrils and thinned his lips. "I still don't understand, but I will trust you, my lord. I guess I'll just have to wait for Irun to get back from his mission. Maybe he can instill some fucking normalcy back into my life, even if he was acting a little strange before he left," he said, making the last half of his sentence seem like he was speaking more to himself than to Ardrin.
"What do you mean?" the Masked One asked. Athar paused for a few moments, picking up a glass tube that was filled with an unidentifiable liquid, and handed it to his master. "Well, when he first arrived, he was bitter and angry. That changed over the time we spent training with each other back at Valdis, of course, but just after he left the dome with Lady Kalia, he seemed… different," he began to explain.
Ardrin took the tube from his servant, and poured it into the pestle as he continued to grind the Gwynnleaf to a pulp. "Different, how?" he asked over his shoulder. "It's hard to explain," Athar began with a shrug, idly fiddling with a pair of metal tongs.
"It's almost as if he's come to terms with his past, but I'm not sure whether that change is for the better. Whatever it was that led him through the depths of his own regret has undoubtedly changed him, though," he concluded, prompting Ardrin to lower his head slightly as he listened to Athar's words.
Is reconciliation after that kind of betrayal even possible? He thought idly, pouring the contents of his mortar into a large glass vial.
The golden liquid from the emulsified Gwynnleaf began to swirl and twist the dark mana already in the vial, along with its own movements, creating a distinctive visual pattern.
"I don't know what led Irun to change the way he did, and I don't know that I ever will. However, I know that I treated you poorly when you first arrived for a reason, one that I don't think you should concern yourself with," Ardrin said, eyeing the twin-colored mixture carefully to make sure there was no adverse reaction. "I know why you did, master," Athar said, intruding on his moment of observation. "Go on," Ardrin said, not tearing his eyes away for even a moment.
"As much as I dislike the way you treated me, it certainly made me a lot stronger than if I had been raised in Coltend Castle as a legitimate son of Truls," he said, allowing himself a wry smile. "Heh, you're not an idiot after all," Ardrin admitted, grinning slightly beneath his mask.
Suddenly, however, a sinking feeling began to grow in his gut.
What is this uneasy feeling? Did I make a mistake? No, wait, this is… his thoughts trailed as the world lurched around him.
Still holding the vial in his hands, he realized where he was now standing. Pyrdredd's Great Hall eerily reminded him of his own citadel, though the sickly green color that illuminated the area filled him with unease no matter how long he spent there.
With a quick glance around him, he found that there were multiple creatures, many of which not even he could identify, lining the central pathway that led to the throne at the other end of the hall in ritualistic poses.
The Undergod stood near the foot of his own throne, leaning the bottom half of his rotting jaw on a balled fist while his other hand dispelled the mana he used to bring his servant here.
"What is the meaning of this? Why have you pulled me here? I was just finishing the last tincture," Ardrin asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I'm aware, but what makes you think I brought you here alone?" Volzuk asked, lifting a decrepit finger aimed off to his right.
Ardrin's face paled beneath his mask as he saw Athar standing a few meters behind and beside him, facing in the opposite direction.
"My lord, what's going on?" Athar asked, the uncertainty of what came next creeping into his voice as he turned around. Realizing where he was and who was at the other end of the Great Hall, he quickly dropped to one knee with a wisp of mana. "My deepest apologies, Great One. I didn't realize where I was," he said quickly.
"I see you've grown fond of your little pet. Such a shame," Volzuk began, his voice thundering throughout the hall. "What does he mean by that? What is he talking about?" the young man asked with no small amount of confusion rather than fear in his voice.
"Oh? You haven't told him, have you?" Volzuk said, lifting his head from his balled fist in interest. Ardrin turned his head away ever so slightly, provoking a low, pulsating rumble that emanated from his master. To the creatures present, it might have been considered a laugh to those who heard it.
However, to Ardrin, there was no real joy behind it, only a troubling sensation of dread beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.
"Tell me, Athar, have you ever heard the tale of the Misfortune of Codrean?" Volzuk asked as he began to walk toward the pair. Athar looked at the approaching Undergod with no small amount of confusion in his eyes. "I have heard only what Irun has told me of its history, Great One, though I don't know of any misfortune," he replied, desperately trying to keep his tone steady.
"I suppose he wouldn't have known this information either, as it has long since been stricken from the records," Volzuk said, now just a few meters in front of them, the emanating pressure nearly forcing Ardrin to his knees as well. "What information? Great One, I know I'm not much of a scholar, but you're speaking in riddles," Athar said, doubling over entirely as he began to succumb to the sudden surge of pressure.
"You would dare speak to me in that tone?" Volzuk shouted angrily, his voice straining even the massive pillars at the other end of the Hall. "Allow me to instruct you and remind you of your place, pet," he said angrily, his eyes flaring with violet mana as he sent another heavy pulse toward the pair, momentarily stealing the air from Athar's lungs.
"Long ago, when the Underworld unleashed its first creatures into the Between, the people of the realm were terrified of their new reality as hordes of these foul beings roamed the lands unchecked and unchallenged," Volzuk began, taking another few steps forward to be in line with Ardrin.
"Feeling abandoned by the gods, there were many who sought out different ways of keeping themselves safe. The elves were the first to realize that these creatures had come from another world since they already had some experience with entities from different realms. What they didn't realize, however, is just how dire their situation truly was," he continued, gazing down onto the top of Ardrin's head and then back to Athar momentarily.
"As they began to research alternate methods of protection, there was one who discovered the power of mana without the assistance of the Gwynnleaf. That elven mage was once called Nexis Pelantyr, also known as the Lord of Codrean," Volzuk said, making Ardrin flinch at the mention of the name.
"He discovered that not only was mana a vastly unexplored power but that there was a way to reach out and command it to his will, provided he could maintain control of his consciousness," he explained.
"This discovery eventually led him to believe there might also be different kinds of mana waiting to be discovered in other realms," he began, allowing the dark mana around him to swirl even more quickly. "He was right, of course, and began to study every method he could to control this newfound power better," he continued as he began to pace back and forth, allowing the mana to weave between his fingers like a snake would move through the branches of a tree.
His presence is still palpable, but at least it's easier to breathe now, Athar thought, able to focus on shielding his thoughts as the Undergod moved away.
"However, he was extremely busy doing what he could to protect the fortress of Codrean since it housed not only elves but those despicable and ungrateful humans as well," he said with a derisive sneer. "One fateful day, not long after Nexis began discovering uses for mana, the fortress was attacked by a large horde of creatures that nearly killed everyone present," he said, turning his head off to the side.
How does he know so much about this? Athar thought, struggling to hide his thoughts under the returning pressure of the Undergod's mana.
Volzuk, however, eyed him curiously as if he had heard them anyway.
"The part of the story where the gods gave the Lord of Codrean the artifacts and the Gwynnleaf is still true, but what that story doesn't contain is that it was through his research and dissection of the gifts that allowed the Synners to be who they are today," he continued, a sense of bitterness beginning to creep into his tone.
"Over the years that followed, Nexis conducted many experiments with the Gwynnleaf in secret, leading him to discover what he had always known to be true: That there were other forms of this power that had yet to be explored," he said, letting his words hold their weight for a heartbeat.
"The Church of Mideia, however, after hearing about his experiments, deemed all warriors who used the tincture Nexis had created to be going against the will of the gods, earning them the moniker of Synners in the process and forcing the hand of the then-King Boren Wishert to banish him from the land," Volzuk said, glancing over his shoulder at them.
"This decision eventually led to The Great Partition, prompting the mage to continue his research more out of necessity than anything else. Over a few decades, he gained an unprecedented amount of knowledge of mana and its properties," he continued, his tone growing almost distant as he paced.
Where is he going with this? Athar thought momentarily.
"One thing he had no way of accounting for, however, was the cruelty of the gods that gave them the gift in the first place," Volzuk said, lacing his words with disdain.
"Once the discovery of the creatures' homeworld was made, Nexis returned to Codrean after the king's death to share his findings, hoping to assist the Synners. However, those hopes were utterly destroyed since the Wardens had gotten there first," he said, glancing upward in anger momentarily.
He's never mentioned them before, Ardrin thought, eyeing the Undergod carefully beneath his mask.