The first thing the Archon noticed was the absent scent of decay and rot.
He breathed in through his nose, pulling the breath deep into his lungs, his chest rising and falling in calm rhythm. The air tasted crisp and cool, bringing with it the sweet scent of summer flowers. He felt relaxed and rested in a way that he couldn’t recall feeling since waking up next to his Lily. Slowly, the Archon opened his eyes.
The sky that greeted him had changed. Meandering clouds rolled in feathery wisps across a pastel blue horizon where the ashen gray roil of the battlefield had been. The colossal monolith loomed in the back of his periphery, casting it’s shade over him like the branches of some great tree.
It hadn’t been a dream.
“It was real,” he whispered.
He was alive.
Somehow, he had survived.
Lifting his head, the Archon groaned as tendrils of pain sparked down the length of his spine and into his feet. He stared curiously down at his exposed toes for moment, the memory of having his legs torn to sunder vivid in his mind’s eye. His pants, or what remained of them, had become shorts, and his long robe had become a tunic. As for his boots, they were nowhere to be found. Next him lay a robe of patterned silk, still stained with the blood of the man he had tried to save. At some point, someone must have placed it over his feet, and he had kicked it off. His exposed legs were a little numb from the chill, but he was relieved to find them there at all.
Tentatively, the Archon wiggled his toes. Prickles of pain tingles over his skin, but otherwise they seemed fine.
Trying to rise to a sitting position, The Archon stopped when he heard a soft whimper, the gentle cooh of something small and fragile in his arms. Turning his head, the Archon was startled to find a sleeping baby, naked and tiny, cradled in the nook of his elbow. He stared at it for a long moment, a look of baffled gentility flitting across his brow. He squinted at the child, uncertain that he was seeing what he thought he was.
Gingerly, and a little hesitantly, the Archon lifted the baby to his chest, trying not to disturb it. He shifted to baby so at to keep a firm hold on it, popping himself up with other hand.
“Who might you be?” he asked, examining the little thing he now held. A newborn, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, squirmed and twisted as it whimpered. “Are you having a nightmare?” asked the Archon. He frowned. He liked children, for the most part, but wasn’t really sure how to talk to one.
A familiar sensation brushed against against his emotions.
Before he had become the Archon, long before the war and the carnage, he had felt this same feeling. He was surprised he still remembered it at all, even though it was part of what had driven to action in the first place.
“Aren’t you a cute little… thing?” The Archon swallowed a lump in his throat, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Where did you come from anyway?” He said, choking back a sob. The tear fell from his chin and landed on the baby’s forehead. The baby opened it’s eyes, and he recognized them immediately. They were still the greenest eyes he had ever seen. “Ah, so it is you…”
The Archon brushed the back of his fingers against the baby’s face.
His skin was soft.
Two tiny hands reached out and grabbed one the Archon’s fingers. The baby made a burbling noise and smiled, kicking his tiny feet out as if stretching. Then, rolling back unto his side, the baby closed his eyes once more and went back to sleep, the Archon’s finger still held in his grasp. Glancing down at his feet, and then back at the baby, The Archon returned the smile. He smiled so broadly he thought his lips might crack.
“You did this, didn’t you? Thank you. I don’t even know your name…”
The baby was the strangest looking baby he had ever seen, not that he had seen many. With a tuft of silver white hair and a shimmering of golden flecks across his face like freckles, the baby was much like the man he had saved, only in miniature. He still had golden spheres around the corner of each eye, and golden patterns formed a tattoo like weave around his body that made the Archon think of drifting clouds. His arms and legs were a mass of scar tissue, with another scar in the center of his chest. The only thing that remained of his head wound, was a patch of discolored skin that proceeded slightly into his hairline. Despite all of that, the boy seemed healthy and well, not that the Archon was a doctor.
“Speaking of, I’m going to have to take you to see one, aren’t I? Just to make sure, of course. What am I supposed to do, huh? Leave you here? Not in a million years…”
Taking stock of his surroundings, the Archon could see the sword he had pulled from the man’s chest a little off to one side, along with the strange metal rod he had pulled from the man’s throat. A bundle of clothing, including the ornate breastplate that he remembered, were also there.
“I’ve had some weird days in my time, but this one definitely takes the prize…”
As for the Ruby Way itself, and the roots, and the bodies, they were all gone. No signs of the Ryedyn soldiers or the battlefield remained. The hellscape that he had witnessed had vanished into thin air, all that was left was the hill and the monolith. Still, if his legs were anything to go by, his experience here had been genuine, and not everything he had seen had been an illusion. The Archon had, without shadow of doubt, had come close to dying. It was if the earth had swallowed everything whole, sparing only the hill. The two lanterns, the things that had drawn him to this place to begin with, had gone out. If he had to hazard a guess, their purpose had been served.
Returning his attention to the babe, the Archon wasn’t certain how to proceed. Whatever this child was, it was special. He had only ever known one person who could regenerate limbs, and even she wasn’t able to heal others to the same extent.
“What I wouldn’t give to ask you some questions, Yien,” The Archon grumbled. “So, what am I to do with you…”
This child, was special, and potentially dangerous. Of that the Archon had no doubt. Strange dying men didn’t just turn into babies for no reason. It was like something out of an old campfire story people told about the old gods, the dead gods. It wasn’t even a stretch to think the man the Archon had rescued, this child, wasn’t connected to those old stories in some way. Though the Archon wasn’t fond of the old gods, his tussles with Dyne proved that, he wasn’t about to abandon a child. Besides…
“He’s kind of cute…”
It was a good thing then, that he was the Archon. Arguably the most powerful man still walking Diadem.
Raising his thumb to his mouth, the Archon bit down just hard enough to draw blood.
“I understand that this isn’t fair. You haven’t done anything wrong,” he said to the child, “but if I’m going to take care of you, then consider this a necessary precaution. Don’t take it personally.”
Hesitantly, the Archon pressed his thumb to the baby’s mouth. The baby whimpered slightly, but made no indication of waking.
“We are bound together now. You might not approve when you get older, but we have formed a contract. That’s the source of my power. I’m not trying to sound grandiose, its just… Anyway… If I abide, so must you. The conditions have been met, and the rules have been set.” The Archon grinned. “Don’t think too harshly of me. I think you got a good deal here all things considered…” he paused. The Archon contemplated for a moment. It wasn’t a Tieranese name, but his wife had never been fond of Tieranese names anyway. “Tyhr”
The baby made another burbling sound, and rolled over in his arms.
“I’m glad you approve. Now let’s get you home.”
Rising to his feet, the Archon collected the robe and made a swaddle with it for the baby. He tied the sword to the back of the swaddle, along with the breastplate. The rest of the clothes would have to stay. Grabbing the strange metal rod, he stuffed it into his pocket. Raising his arms the sky, the Archon let out a satisfied groan. He felt healthier than he had in ages, and, he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but a little taller as well. Was it his imagination, or did his hands have fewer wrinkles as well?
Shrugging off his questions for the time being, the Archon knew his priority was to find his entourage. No doubt Shidai would be in a state of mild, or even extreme, panic. With the forest gone, he could see great distances in every direction. He could even see the border of the jungles of Tieran, though it was little more than a thin green line from where he stood. Raising one hand over his eyes, he combed the horizon for signs of his companions.
Far off in the distance, he could see a tiny speck of shadow moving across the gray wasteland.
Taking a final moment to check that the swaddle was firmly in place, he set off in it’s direction.
Despite the unevenness of the terrain, he was just happy to be walking. His legs still tingled a little, and were hairless now, but they seemed to work as well as ever. Better, even. Jumping off the platform, the Archon scaled the hill down to the plain below.
After about an hour, the shadows he had seen from atop the hill began to take the form of people. His suspicions were further confirmed when something massive started closing moving towards him at incredibly speeds, kicking up a cloud of dust in it’s wake.
“My lord!” boomed a voice like thunder across the plain. “My lord!”
“Id know that voice anywhere.”
It didn’t take long for the giant hurtling mass to reach him. Shidai ground to halt in front of the Archon like a bull stopping mid stampede, his momentum carrying him a few sliding strides forward.
“Shidai!” Said the Archon, “Good to see the forest didn’t swallow you whole too. Though I imagine if it tried it probably would have choked.”
“My lord!” bellowed the huge monk at a volume loud enough to crack glass. Tears of relief formed waterfalls on the big man’s face as he sniffled and whimpered like a child. “My lord I am so glad you’re safe. When you took off into the forest, the procession and I… We…” Shidai stopped mid rant and stared incredulously at the Archon. “My… lord?”
Shidai was a large man, a fair size larger and more muscular than even the Archon himself, with a chest like a furry barrel and a tangle of wiry black beard in desperate need of a comb. Deep blue tattoos ran up and down the man’s tree trunk arms in a wave pattern and his massive hands opened and closed as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His bare chest heaved with exertion, and he was blinking profusely. When you looked at Shidai, you could not help but think of a bear. A bear in pants, but a bear all the same.
“What is it, Shidai? Why are you looking at me like that?” asked the Archon narrowing his gaze at the giant.
“Uhm,” said Shidai, his huge bald head tilted to one side. “You are… my lord? Aren’t you?”
“Who else would I be? Also, keep it down, can you not see the sleeping child?”
Shidai glanced from the Archon to the child and back, his jaw hanging down like a unhinged shutter.
“Child? Oh… Sorry. I…”
“Since when were you ever tongue tied? Are you a senile old bastard now, Shidai? Go on then, say your piece.”
“Old… Right, uh…” Shidai stammered. “If you’re the Archon, then how long have we known one another?”
“What nonsense is this, Shidai? What are you on about?”
The giant held up his hand.
“Please answer the question. Humor an old friend.”
The Archon had never seen Shidai look so serious before, so he answered the question.
“About forty years now. It depends on whether or not you’re referring to when we fought each other on the battlefield, or when we became friends afterward. We didn’t really get to know each the first few times, as I’m sure you recall”
“Oh, I do,” replied Shidai, scratching aimlessly as the huge scar that ran across his jawline. “What was the name of my ship? Back when I was still a pirate.”
“I thought you hated being called a pirate? You always yammered on about being an archaeologist didn’t you. The Hard Lesson. Your ship was called the hard lesson.”
“How many books are my library?”
“Last I checked they were mostly scrolls, and you had two thousand three hundred and forty two. I know that because I paid for all of them.”
“My lord!” The large monk charged forward and embraced the Archon in a hug. The Archon did not fail to notice that Shidai was careful so as to not crush the baby. “It is you!”
“Like I said, who else would it be!?”
“It’s just that… You look, different? I mean, you look like you, just…” Shidai released the Archon and stepped back, but kept his hands on the Archon’s shoulders. “Better. The gold is a nice touch.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come, come with me and I’ll show you.” Shidai turned and began walking back towards the procession. As they neared the bunched of groups of warriors and monks, The Archon could hear audible gasps from the small crowd of a dozen or so, but they greeted him with bows all the same. They had all removed their armor, probably to optimize their search for him, so they were all dressed in light blue robes instead. Shidai walked hastily over to a bag and began routing through it, his movement frantic and exaggerated, which, to be fair, wasn’t anything new for the man. Finding what he had been searching for, Shidai walked back over to the Archon and held out his hand.
“A mirror?” queried the Archon, his curiosity piqued.
Shidai nodded.
“Yes. You’ll see why.”
Taking the mirror, the Archon examined his reflection.
“What is this?!” The Archon exclaimed. “Is this me?! What happened!?”
“That’s my question.”
The Archons knees shook and it took every once of control he had to remain standing.
“I… I mean… Alright.”
His face, was still very much his face, but it had changed. He still had his strong jaw, and shortly stubbly beard. His nose was still a bit wide, and his eyes a bit narrow. It was undeniably his face, only he couldn’t recall the last time he had looked so young. His skin was smooth, and the lines on it that once denoted his age were visibly absent. He was still gray at the temples, but his widows peak was gone, replaced by a full head of straight black hair. The biggest difference was around his eyes, which now bore flecks of gold and green around the iris, and on one side of his face…
With the baby tied in it’s swaddle, he touched his fingers to his cheek bone. Around his left eye, was a pattern of gold, much like he had seen on the baby, only his resembled shattered stone or glass. It was cascade of broken fragments, scattering outward from his eye and unto the side of his forehead. When he touched it, it still felt like skin under his fingers.
“Well,” said the Archon, grasping for words. “This is… unexpected.”
Handing the mirror back to Shidai, The Archon took a moment to reexamine his body. No wonder he had felt younger, and taller. He was younger and taller. Years of bad posture and sitting behind a desk were gone, replaced by the body he had in his younger days. He wasn’t exactly a youth, per se, but he was definitely younger. For a normal human, the difference would have accounted for a couple of decades, but for him, it was closer to half a dozen.
Shidai raised his hand and coughed into his fist, getting the Archon’s attention.
“Now do you see why I reacted the way I did? Justified. Completely justified.”
“Yes, yes I do, and yes you were.” Replied the Archon, one hand reaching up to trace the gold pattern on his skin.
“As much as I’d like to ask you about the baby, and what happened to the forest, and you, for that matter, we can’t stay here.”
The Archon regarded his closest friend and adviser. The atmosphere around Shidai had changed. The Archon recognized it.
“You’re right. We can’t stay here.”
“The forest is gone, and with it our protection. The barrier between Ryedyn and Tieran is gone, my lord.”
The Archon sighed.
“Ryedyn…”
“Though I imagine you and I can handle ourselves, I think it best we return to Tieran and start preparing countermeasures. You and I both know what sort of monstrosities call Ryedyn home, and that’s doesn’t even including the Many. We can swap stories on the way home.”
Shidai’s eyes were serious now as they examined the horizon the west. Shidai followed his friends gaze, and nodded.
“You’re right, as always.” Replied the Archon. “We return to Tieran!”