The Walk

The formation of the Death Gate created a surge of necrotic healing energy, resulting in the road thinning to the width of a cunt hair. Yet, when I opened my eyes, I saw neither reality nor the necrotic world of Death's Road but an inversed amalgamation of the two.

Reality had been painted in the borders of Death's Road, creating a field of sea-green fire solidified into the geometrical shapes designed onto the floor beneath me, the roots around me, and the cavern beyond. The arachnids and crawlers of the underground were like cold blots of darkness against the sea-green backdrop of reality, almost like seeing Venus pass between your frame of reference and the Sun.

It was within that field of green that I noticed two human-sized figures standing close by the entrance and then approaching to interrupt my meditation. Rather than be annoyed, however, I was eager to move on to the next step. I opened my well, after all. And Etan would have come in to check on me sooner or later.

And so, I turned, seeing two eerily similar androgynous faces of gray-violet skin. Locks of web-white hair flowed from their ebony scalps, tied with a familiar elegance so as to not allow the strands to fall before their crimson red- almost vampiric eyes as they stared and gasped with equal parts disdain and awe.

<<What is this?>> The woman, dressed in a gossamer robe and tattooed with white webs throughout her body, was the one I assumed Etan called Matron Etyl. How familiar she looked. How familiar they both looked. Their noses, chins, eye shapes, how they wore their hair, and most of all their brooches were all so much like Abbot Eiriol.

So much like…

<<Who are you?>> I inquired, eliciting a curious twitch of the eye before her expression feigned amiability.

"Bool," She said, a word for something both interesting and unexplainable in my mother's tongue. Or, as Iris interpreted it, a weirdo. <<Many are proud to learn Elg-Horr is drow. Your impurity- you being male is an unfortunate but acceptable fact. If hardly.>>

<<Why focus on but one half of my being?>> I snorted, mostly at Etan's dour expression, but also at her reminding me about a certain emperor. <<Creation is birthed from destruction, no?>>

Another twitch of the eye, but this one was followed by a wicked smile. <<Then show us your process of creation and destruction.>> A single snap followed her words, spurring Etan to meekly step between us with a blue sash held at arm's reach.

<<Forming your second natural Ki Gate is accomplished by intaking Ki from nature through meditation, combat, and exposure to various sources of Ki. Therein lies the reason for the state of affairs above. We allow the barbaric creatures to continue in their ways of warmongering. Shujen is in a perpetual state of conflict as a result, making a prime environment in which to train.>>

<<I can't argue with that.>> I admitted. <<If degeneracy will exist no matter what, it is best to quarantine it in an easily accessible place for the people. I intend to do the same thing, more or less.>> After all, it worked for all the nations on the outside.

<<Yes.>> Etan hesitantly nodded. <<However, we care not for the… people. In fact, there is an agreement with the artificers of Bakewia and the wizards of Knighilia to the west. A tax in exchange for using our testing grounds.>>

Etyl, seeming to grow impatient with our small talk, pushed Etan aside rather forcefully and stepped before me. <<You are to roam the surface, accompanied by Etan and myself. That is the fastest way to pursue your ends. A phase the monks like to call, The Walk.>>

I couldn't help but notice the confused and shocked gaze of Etan before he shielded it behind a mask of stoicism, and then turned to guide me to a strange portal. It looked like a giant, glowing flower petal of purples and reds, sitting alone inside of an alcove.

Tentatively, I followed the other two onto the petals and watched in morbid awe as they lifted to close around us, and after a burst of spores or pollen, the petals unfurled to reveal the same unassuming hut I met Etan in.

<<For this phase,>> the monk turned at the door, <<you may wear your personal attire as you wish, so long as it holds no enchantments. We will wait for you outside.>>

Changing was only a matter of unraveling the wrappings and pulling one of the hundreds of outfits made by Giorno straight onto my body from my shadow pocket. A lightly winterized version of my standard garb minus the feathered robe elicited curious gazes and subtle remarks from the drow as I stepped out into the bleak winter night.

After checking up on the girls, of course, still training with Eiriol, under the careful eye of the Owl. Though, they would join me soon.

I was, however, surprised to see Peter and the others waiting outside. Two drow, a male and female, stood closely by their sides. Ever scowling, it seemed. Except when their eyes turned meek upon meeting the gaze of Etyl. That, and the looks of reverence, confusion, and mild contempt they turned towards me.

Not to mention the disdainful scorns given to Rua as he approached me.

"They speak of showing us the way, yet they deny me mine," Rua said, meeting his calm eyes with mine. In turn, I shifted toward my… supervisor. She evidently had the most authority around here.

<<I understand our weapons are prohibited, but Rua needs his weapon for the sake of his class.>>

"Calm, Elg-Horr." She said, waving to Etan to explain.

"We understand Rua needs his weapon. He will be the only exception. The rest of you are to use only what you find during your walk."

I noticed a sudden glean arise in Etyl's eye as Etan nodded to Rua's instructor. <<Bring it to me, I wish to observe it.>>

There was no reaction from Rua, but a small rendering of his visage appeared in the corner of my vision, followed by his voice ringing through my head. 'I do not like this one.'

'Yeah, she's crazy.' I sighed internally. 'Just hand it to him. We already know what'll happen anyway.' I rolled my eyes.

With a deep groan, Rua disconnected from the Net and simultaneously released the sentient weapon into the drow's hand.

As if a titan tilted the Mortal Plane, the drow fell forward with a scream of curses and howled once his hand pressed between the indignant weapon and the unyielding ground with a sickening crunch. The shouts of confusion and pain then turned to gasps of relief as Rua approached, retrieving his weapon and healing the lad's hand with a few quick snaps and pops.

"What does it mean to be worthy?" he looked up at Rua, rubbing his hand gingerly. But the young monk only turned, smiling.

"Perhaps you will learn."

"Enough wasting time!" Etyl randomly snapped, shocking the drow to a standstill. "Choose a direction and walk!"

We, however, were equal parts bemused and amused, exchanging gazes between each other before I causally shrugged. "North." Then I started walking, hearing Peter say he'd take the south, followed by Rua taking the east, and Veil of Shadows taking the west while I watched them mark out the paths through NoxNet.

'I hear you are without a family name.'

It hadn't even been five minutes of walking. However, the way in which she signed the words stood out to me. Not that I've seen another drow use our sign language other than my mother and those here. But my observations in the Halls coincided with my mother's explanation of 'dialects' in the unspoken language. That said, I knew not if those dialects varied by region or bloodline. Unlike our spoken word.

<<A custom. According to my mother.>> I flatly said, but the darkness muted the words like a soft whisper.

<<A half-lie.>> She promptly said, and much louder than me at that. Then, after I gave her no response, she nearly shouted. <<What? Do you not believe your mother could lie?>>

<<Sadly, I am not so naive.>> I laughed. <<On the contrary. I know there are many, many things sealed within my mother's lips. Such as details about her homeland.>>

<<Those who have lost the favor of our Goddess become pariahs. They must give up their names.>> Etyl hissed with pride. <<That is the truth behind your Abbot Eiriol. That is the truth behind your mother.>>

<<You sound certain.>> I snorted.

She seethed. <<I am certain!>>

<<Well, I suppose that settles it then.>> I nodded indifferently, although a small part of me became a little more attuned to the waxing and waning voice in my head.

Coincidentally, Etan took advantage of the silence, stepping close enough to whisper. <<Why do you care about the human and his weapon?>>

<<Because I made Rua's weapon. It is sentient, and Hinjaku is very picky about who touches them. That drow was lucky he was let off with a crushed hand. He could've been fried.>>

I explained it as casually as I would anything else. And that seemed to make Etyl boil. <<Why would you make such a weapon for a… human!?!>>

<<Because I like making things. I made a sentient weapon and it chose Rua as its master. That is all there is to it.>> I shrugged again, giving them both pause as I stopped to look up to the moon. <<You all obsess over me being the Destroyer, which I am.>> I turned my gaze to Etyl, giving her a nod before my eyes drifted to the illuminated rocks floating in the southwestern sky. <<But so too am I a creator. A Grandmaster Artificer.

<<But.>> I playfully grinned. <<I am here to train as a monk. So, testing out my toys- and all the other stuff, will have to wait.>>

<<Perhaps not.>> Etan motioned to the muffled cacophony in the distance. <<A human settlement lies ahead. Barbaric warmongers. Haters of drow. Around four thousand of them. I would assume they heard our shouting. So, how will you proceed?>>

I flicked my eyes between Etan's stoic gaze and Etyl's smug grin and snorted like the petulant child I was. <<On foot.>>