Acolyte's Burden

The dim light of the Rusty Lantern's entrance faded behind Elowen as she stepped into the cool night. The usual cheer and ease she carried while traveling with Kael had vanished, replaced by a sharp focus. Her footfalls echoed faintly on the cobblestone streets of Feysreach as she ventured deeper into the heart of the city. This was not a casual stroll through familiar streets; she had a mission, one she couldn't afford to delay.

The air was still, save for the occasional whisper of a breeze rustling the leaves of the towering trees that cradled the city. The firefly-like lanterns that illuminated the pathways flickered faintly, casting long, wavering shadows on the ground. Above her, the branches of the ancient trees formed an intricate web, their massive trunks supporting both the city and the lives within it. Feysreach had always been a peaceful haven, blending civilization and nature seamlessly, but tonight it felt different—tense, even ominous.

Elowen's gaze sharpened as she moved toward her destination. She knew exactly where she needed to go: the Steelheart Tree, the heart of the House of Ironshard. The towering structure was hidden from view outside the city's perimeter, but here, deep within Feysreach, its presence was inescapable. The massive tree stood at the very center of the city, its branches reaching toward the heavens like dark, twisted arms. Though it was made of stone and metal, it gave the unsettling impression of being alive, as if the ancient power of Terra's Grasp itself coursed through its roots.

Her pace quickened as she neared the tree, her mind racing with thoughts of the task ahead. She wasn't heading to the seat of power, not to Magnus, the Verdant Bastion and leader of House Ironshard. No, her mission was far below that level of importance. But still, what she carried in her pouch—a secret item from the Netherdeep, an Orange Area—was enough to make even an acolyte feel the weight of responsibility.

As she approached the base of the Steelheart Tree, she was met with the sight of its imposing entrance. Massive iron doors, intricately carved with the sigil of House of Ironshard—an image of a tree wrapped in steel—stood guarded by two soldiers. Their armor, dark and heavy, gleamed faintly in the light of the lanterns. They recognized her instantly, though their expressions remained stern and professional.

"Halt," one of the guards commanded, stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

"State your name and business."

Elowen met his gaze and raised her right hand, summoning the sigil of House of Ironshard onto her palm. The symbol appeared, glowing faintly in the darkness, casting a greenish hue on her skin. It was all the proof they needed.

"I bring news from the advance party sent to the Netherdeep," Elowen stated calmly.

"I have something for Commander Maelor."

The guards exchanged brief glances before nodding and stepping aside. The iron doors creaked open, revealing the shadowed interior of the tree's lower chamber.

Elowen took a steadying breath before stepping through the threshold, her thoughts already focused on the man she was about to meet. Maelor was not one to be trifled with—an influential figure within the House of Ironshard, though far beneath the leader Magnus in rank. Maelor was known for his cold demeanor, and rumors swirled about the secrets he kept buried under his pristine, composed exterior. He had been tasked with overseeing the exploration of the Netherdeep, and it was to him that Elowen now delivered her report.

The doors shut behind her with a heavy thud, and the faint flicker of lanterns cast eerie shadows across the room. Elowen made her way through the dimly lit corridors of the Steelheart Tree, her footsteps soundless on the polished stone floors. Eventually, she reached a small, secluded chamber—Maelor's office. The air here felt heavier, almost oppressive, as if the weight of the tower's ancient history pressed down upon her shoulders.

With a soft knock, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Maelor sat at a grand desk, his attention focused on a stack of documents before him. His appearance was immaculate as ever—silver-grey hair swept back neatly, his sharp features highlighted by the dim glow of a single lantern on his desk. A monocle glinted in the light as he read over the parchment, his expression devoid of any warmth or emotion.

Elowen closed the door behind her and stood at attention, hands behind her back, waiting in silence. For a long moment, Maelor didn't acknowledge her presence. The ticking of a small, ornate clock on the wall was the only sound that filled the room.

Finally, without looking up from his papers, Maelor broke the silence.

"So?" he asked, his voice smooth but cold.

"You brought news with you, I presume?"

Elowen swallowed, trying to steady her nerves. She had faced abominations in the Grey Area and unspeakable horrors of the Netherdeep, but there was something about Maelor that unnerved her more than anything she had encountered on the battlefield.

"Yes, sir," she began, her voice almost faltering.

"Our advance party found something… something significant. We thought it was important enough for the higher-ups to be informed."

Maelor's hand paused over the parchment he was reading. Slowly, he placed the papers down and looked up, his piercing green eyes locking onto Elowen's.

"And who, pray tell, granted you the authority to make that decision?" His voice was deceptively soft, but the coldness behind it sent a shiver down Elowen's spine.

"You, a mere acolyte, and the rest of your barely competent cohort?"

Elowen's mouth went dry as she cast her gaze to the floor, unable to hold Maelor's stare. She could feel his presence bearing down on her as he rose from his seat, each step toward her deliberate and methodical.

"I—" she began, but Maelor raised a hand, silencing her with a single gesture.

"Oh, Elowen…" He sighed, almost mockingly, as he reached out to delicately brush a strand of silver hair over his shoulder.

"What is it that you have for me?"

Elowen quickly fumbled through her pouch and pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped object. She held it out toward Maelor with both hands, her heart pounding in her chest.

"We… we believe it's an oracle, sir," she explained.

"It was found deep within the Netherdeep, at what appeared to be some kind of altar. It's too high in rank for any of us to attune to, so we thought it best to bring it straight back."

Maelor's expression shifted slightly—just a flicker of interest, but it was enough to make Elowen's stomach tighten. Oracles were rare, mysterious boons left by the tower that held ancient knowledge or clues about the tower's secrets. They were highly prized, and the fact that Elowen's team had found one in the Netherdeep made this more than just a routine discovery.

With careful, almost delicate movements, Maelor unwrapped the cloth from around the orb. The dark, glassy surface of the oracle shimmered faintly in the dim light as he turned it over in his hands, inspecting it with a practiced eye.

For a moment, the room was silent as Maelor examined the orb, his fingertips grazing its surface. Then, a faint glow emanated from the orb, as if it was reacting to his essence. A soft, eerie light filled the room, casting long shadows across Maelor's face.

"I see…" he muttered quietly, his lips curling into a small, satisfied smile. He placed the oracle down gently on his desk before turning his attention back to Elowen.

"Well done, Acolyte," he said, his tone devoid of the earlier harshness.

"Your contributions to the house will be noted."

Elowen blinked, surprised by the shift in his demeanor. She opened her mouth to thank him, but before she could, Maelor's sharp gaze pinned her in place once more.

"Is there anything else to report?" he asked, his voice once again low and probing.

Elowen hesitated for a fraction of a second. Kael crossed her mind briefly—his strange appearance in the Grey Area, his lack of memory, the mystery that surrounded him. But after a moment of internal debate, she shook her head.

"No, sir," she replied, her voice steady. "That is all."

Maelor studied her for a long, silent moment before finally nodding.

"Very well," he said. "You may go. Take three days of rest here in Feysreach. Consider it a personal reward for your efforts. Even Fatewalkers, powerful as we may be, need moments of peace."

Elowen bowed deeply. "Thank you, sir."

With that, she turned and made her way toward the door, the weight of Maelor's gaze following her as she left the room. As she stepped back into the cool night air, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Three days was more than enough time to take care of things… and to check in on Kael before her next mission called her away again.

Behind her, Maelor sat alone in his chamber, the oracle still glowing faintly on his desk. His eyes narrowed as he gazed into its depths, lost in thought.

"The ancient beings…" he murmured to himself, his fingers lightly tracing the surface of the orb. "Perhaps they are more than just myth after all."