Ryn of Avonside

Satrapion Darios Heliandros led us through the town, while I drifted back to Duncan. “What did you mean by, it's Greek?”

“A lot of the Ghraial language is heavily altered from Greek. His name, Heliandros, means sun-man, or something like that. My mum's family is Greek, so I learned a bit of it growing up.”

Huh. If he was right, it would mean that somewhere in the past for these folks, their ancestors were part Greek. I wonder what that looked like in a wider context? Depending on when they were taken, it could've been up to three thousand years ago.

“It feels like they have a lot of stuff that isn't Greek, too,” he added. “There's more words that don't fit than do, but… yeah.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile. “That's interesting. It might help us.”

The Satrapion lived in a sort of extra miniature fort attached to the main town garrison. Both were made of wood with stone foundations, but unlike the last few fortifications we’d seen, this place had obviously been built with more of a mind for quality. We had to enter through the garrison itself while weary and wounded guards began to find their ways to the infirmary or their bunks. It was a couple of hours past sundown now.

Inside the Satrapion’s section of the fort, it became much more welcoming. There was a small herb garden off to the side, a tree inside the small courtyard, and simple decorative carvings around the doors and windows.

“Welcome to my humble little abode, friends,” the Satrapion said. “If it would please you, I’d like to offer dinner. We have fairly simple fare this far out from the heart of the empire, but the locals do make some excellent cured meats. Our wine and cheese is, of course, imported from elsewhere…”

We dined with the Satrapion that night as the Order, without the Avonside people. Our host was extremely grateful that we'd saved his town, and tried to give us a few different gifts of coin and silk, but we turned down the former. The bolts of silk, I transferred to my grove. While I was delivering it, I took the time to let everyone know we were safe.

The next day, we learned that when taking people out of a Grove, it would dump you all at your last mundane locations. So, despite me being the one to bring the Avonsiders out, they appeared at the busted inn, while myself and the other Order folks arrived in the Satrapion’s home.

We spent a day in the town, just helping with the initial clean up while Dr. Ross chatted the lord up. Grace didn't want to try talking to Ollinfer near the town,since the population was already spooked. We'd wait til we were a day or two out. The day after the attack, we took to the road once more.

We made it barely a day out from the town when we saw something that I hadn't considered or seen on the ring until now — human-built ruins. At one point, the river had taken a different path before it twisted off to the side, and in an old elbow of that dead river, the jagged remains of a city lay sprawled out over the plains.

Collapsed stone walls, overgrown with local vegetation, stood like the broken teeth of a giant — tracing the outlines of old roads and buildings. The architecture wasn't a classical style I was familiar with, either.

When I asked Eilian about them, she shrugged. “I don't know much about this region. I'm from Mossbed, so I'm familiar with the Anve because we border some of their principalities and duchies. I do know that this region has been inhabited by humanity for far longer than the Anverlands. In fact, I believe that the Anverlands used to be a massive forest with only small tribes of humans and wild obrec who called it home.”

“Wild obrec…?” I asked, curious as to what that might mean. If I couldn't get anything about the people who built this town, at least I could learn about Eilian's people.

“We are divided into two distinct breeds, us Obrec,” she said with a gentle, only vaguely flirtatious smile. “The wild obrec live in the forests at the bottom of the ravines, while us carved obrec live on the walls. They don’t dabble in any technology more complicated than say, a lute, and their political units are usually less than a couple hundred persons each.”

Nodding along, a memory surfaced and I remembered learning about them during our trip to Millowhall.

“You know,” I mused, watching the ruins as our pace caused them to slowly drift by. “I never really considered that history and the evolution of societies and cultures would continue after people arrived at the Ring. I just sort of assumed that they'd land here and keep being whatever they were back on Earth.”

Eilian snorted. “Most of recorded Obrec history has occurred on the Ring. Our final burst of arrivals didn't even have the knowledge to work iron. That was actually developed when we met the early human arrivals.”

I made a small sound of thoughtful interest. If that were true, then the Ring wasn't summoning groups here as tech progressed for their societies. It was bringing them here regardless of what they were doing as a people. With the steel ones patrolling the Ring, higher levels of tech wouldn't be developing anyway.

“Ryn.”

Grace's hand touched my forearm, and I gave her my attention.

“I want to try talking to her now.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Ollinfer? Here?”

She nodded resolutely. “Yeah, in the ruins. Feels thematic “

Reaching out, I took her hand and squeezed it. “Okay.”

Looking at the others in the group, I grinned cryptically. “Hold on. Grace and I need to talk to… someone. Let's take a break for a bit.”

Dr. Ross, curious and taking the bait, asked, “Who would you talk to? How?”

“Let's just go into the ruins a bit,” I said with a smile. I wanted to hear their gasps when Ollinfer materialised.

The ruins were mostly buried now, and the tall stone walls that remained were now the foundations where various adventurous flora had anchored themselves. The flora was mostly stuff from the wetlands surrounding the river, which made sense as there were several foetid pools of still water dotted around in the hollows created by the dead city.

Birds played happily in the trees and reeds, darting after the many insects that called the place home. It was nice to see actually — where once a thriving city of humanity had stood, now there was a wild and biodiverse swamp metropolis. I loved adorable enclosed ecosystems like this one, despite how vulnerable they were to destruction.

We arrived in an open area that might have once been a plaza, and came to a stop. The group looked at me expectantly, and I looked at my lovely, brave girlfriend. “Any idea how to do this?”

“Nope, but I have some ideas,” she said, giving me an adorable look of hopeful confidence. Unable to resist, I reached up and touched her cheek. For a split second, her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into the touch.

Her eyes opened with resolve burning inside them, and she dropped to one knee in the long grass. She plucked some long, green stalks of the grass and began to weave them together into… a circle, or perhaps a circlet.

“Hey, Ollinfer,” she whispered, placing the circlet of grass onto the ground. “We could use some answers and some help, if you're willing. Also, there's some people here who have no idea what's going on, including an obrec mage. It'd be pretty funny if you startled them with your godly arrival.”

A lazy tendril of Grace's Nameless Garden magic left her finger and danced in the air for a second. Then, with a sudden jerk of movement, it dove for the circlet.

All around us, the greenest, most vibrant plants in our vicinity began to twitch and shudder. In moments, the vegetation in the ruins was dancing, until it began to uproot and swirl inwards to the crown, which was beginning to float upwards.

Ollinfer's form began to take shape within a storm of grasses, reeds, and ferns. She wore the form of an eight foot tall nude obrec woman, made entirely of the plants that had just joined in the dance. Somehow, all those leaves, roots, and vines managed to weave together in a way that gave the impression of smooth, silken skin.

Desperately, I pulled my eyes off her boobs, thighs, and… all the other things that a gorgeous naked woman has to look at. Notably, I saw Grace doing the same, and we caught one another's eye. Neither of us could stop the sheepish grin that followed.

“Girls are so hot,” I whispered, earning a tiny snort of laughter from her.

Apparently, Ollinfer heard us because she laughed, deep and throaty. “I see you are no longer dancing around one another. Can I assume you are lovers now?”

My tongue practically dove down my own throat out of sheer surprise, and I began to choke while Grace let out a high, squeaking laugh.

“Yes, ma’am,” Grace said, once she was in control again.

When I could breathe again, I looked back at the rest of the party. It was like watching a still frame from a video. Adam and Duncan were standing stock still, eyes wide, while Dr. Ross and his assistant, Tom, were red-faced and trying to avert their gazes. Jenna wasn't looking away — she was staring with raised eyebrows, and maybe a hint of fear or alarm.

Eilian looked like she was a millisecond from either bolting or dropping to her knees. The poor obrec mage was absolutely terrified.

“Good, that's good,” said Ollinfer, as she glanced over the others in our party, noting the same reactions that I had. Her gaze finally fell on Eilian. “The Golden Mage.”

Eilian opted for dropping to her knees, and with a quick, fearful nod, bowed her head. “Yes, green-shoot nymph, honoured mother of the new forest. What is it you require?”

“Nothing,” Ollinfer shrugged. “I came because my warlock called, and I had nothing pressing with which to occupy myself.”

“Ah, right,” Grace said, clearing her throat. “We had an encounter with some… some really powerful, scary monsters. We were wondering if you knew anything?”

The goddess stared blankly at my girlfriend. Her voice gained a dangerous note to it, and she asked, “You called on me because you didn't… what, know the name of a monster you fought?”

Power pulsed out from the irritated deity, and in that single moment, I could quantify the extent to which people were wrong when they called me a goddess. This entity could kill me with a single glare if she wanted to.

“No, no!” Grace said quickly, gesturing frantically. “It was because these things were… they had energy that reminded me of the Red Nightmare— in fact, they were made out of magic. My aura ate them. It wasn't quite Red Nightmare magic though, it felt more… ordered than normal.”

Ollinfer mellowed, growing thoughtful. “Oh, that is a good reason to call on me. Monsters made of ordered Red Nightmare… that's worrying. How did they fight? What did they look like?”

Grace explained the multi-limbed demons and their strange vanishing powers, and the goddess’ expression grew more concerned.

“I see,” she said, stomping a hoof in the dirt. “I am afraid, Grace, that I do not have any idea what they are or where they came from. I will, however, be investigating the matter.”

Oh damn, if a goddess who'd met the Ring’s architects didn't know what these were…

“The fact that a goddess doesn't know what those demons are is, in itself, some very useful information,” I said, as reverentially as possible.

Ollinfer huffed out a very animal-like sound of amusement and nodded. “Indeed, young mage. Keep an eye out. I, however, have a few tendrils of thought to follow…”

She trailed off and stared past us into the middle distance. Frowning slightly, I verbally prodded at her. “What kind of thoughts?”

“Oh, just a hunch,” she said with an idle wave of her hand. “There is a… an underside to reality. It's thin, barely usable by incorporeals like me, even… but perhaps these demons have some power to expand the pathways in this Sideways space. Idle thought, and I'm probably wrong, but I'll investigate nevertheless. Thank you, Grace, thank you, Ryn.”@@novelbin@@

Huh. That was the second time that the word Sideways was used in this context and with emphasis. I wonder if there was anything to it? Maybe I'd have to do some investigating of my own.

“Ah…” Grace said to Ollinfer. Her expression was hesitant — unsure. “Yeah. No problem.”

The eight foot tall goddess smiled at her warlock, raised a hand in a graceful wave, and began to disintegrate into her component vegetation. As her form lost cohesion, she said, “I am oh-so-glad to have made our bargain. Oh, and Ryn? I hope that it wasn't too much trouble to plant that flower in your grove. I know that foreign magic acts odd in a mage's sanctum.”

I blinked, confused as to why she cared about Grace's transformation flower. It'd taken root in my grove just fine…

“No, it was fine,” I said, trying and failing to parse the reason for even bringing the flower up.

“Ah, good good,” she said, her lips curving into a pleased, enigmatic, almost smug smile. She was gone a moment later, and all the plants drifted back to where they'd come from.

Oh dear. I had a very strange feeling about that flower, now…