Good evening dear readers! I have some housekeeping announcements before we start today's chapter.
Up first: After a lot of thinking and cautious re-writes, I've decided that the next chapter (
Chapter 42: Tenna's Prophecy) should be considered the "
End of Act Three" as far as this story is concerned. This means
Song of the Solitaire will be taking a short hiatus while I do final edits and rewrites on the next batch of chapters. This AAR will be silent for about a week. Expect new chapters to resume sometime around February 9.
This development does come with a tradeoff, though. When
Song of the Solitaire comes back from hiatus,
Act Four will be the final installment. The end of this story is rapidly approaching and may reach you before the first day of spring.
Second: I want to humbly remind you to cast your vote in both
These community awards are your perfect opportunity to support and show some love for your favorite AAR writers, and you'll also discover new stories and authors that are guaranteed to catch and hold your attention. Cast your vote before this weekend, as the deadlines are fast approaching!
As always, thank you all for reading! I know this story is now almost exactly the same length as
All Our Sins Remembered and will probably equal
My Father's War when all is said and done, so I do appreciate those of you who have made it this far.
Author's note: Special thanks to CBR JGWRR, Chac1, CupOfOwls, and Chosenpai for their recent critiques. Act Four will be the best part of the whole story thanks to you!
Chapter 41
Beyond the Veil
Trig looked around and cursed. He could have sworn Tenna was unconscious when Avitus carried her through the Conduit, but perhaps she was awake now. Trig wondered if Tenna was somehow being prevented from sleeping. It was the middle of the afternoon at the Enclave, so it was likely.
“Now what do I do?” Trig said to himself.
He decided to sit down underneath the tree where he and Tenna had spoken during several of their previous shared dreams. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Trig folded his arms and held his chin in one hand, wracking his brains. After thinking to himself for a few moments, Trig could not help but laugh at himself.
For the duration of this journey, ever since leaving Eadleton, Trig had relied on other people to think and make decisions for him. Ponnico had guided the way to Suth-Kasa and now it looked as though the Arfor mercenaries and Hannakon were going to take the lead on the mission to rescue Tenna.
“Alright, first thing’s first.” Trig said to himself. “I am going to rescue Tenna, and get the Keystone back from Avitus. The god said I can’t be a passenger in my own story… I gotta start taking charge.”
Trig stood up, his fist clenched.
“Right… how do I do that?” He said to himself. “Where do I even start?”
As if in answer to his question, something happened. Trig’s new Telepathic senses picked up on something… an aura of positive emotions. Trig looked around to see where it came from.
To his left, the cracked stone archway appeared to be physically unchanged… but Trig could tell there was something very different about it. He could see through it to the trees and meadow on the others side, yet Trig also got the feeling that there was something more beneath the broken gate. A translucent shape hung in midair, suspended between the carved pillars on either side. Trig felt that it looked similar to the Astral Scar he saw above the Shroudwalker Enclave.
Trig remembered what Vitruvius said about the scars being gateways to other universes, and there was something else in his memory too…
Now that he got a good look at this thing, Trig realized that the dreamworld’s gate was perfectly identical to the Conduit gate Avitus had vanished through, aside from visible damage to the exterior.
A damaged Conduit in the dreamworld? Trig said to himself. With a tiny Astral Scar inside of it?”
A question came into Trig’s mind. As soon as he thought about it, Trig dismissed the question as being completely ridiculous. This was his question:
Did my father build a Conduit gate in the dreamworld?
Cautiously, Trig took a step forward. He and Tenna had once used this thing to escape from the dreamworld and wake up. Could this thing be used to go anywhere else?
Something Ponnico said almost a month ago came back into Trig’s mind:
Any psionic person could walk into a doorway and travel instantly to another doorway… so long as you knew where you wanted to go before you stepped through.
Trig focused his eyes on the strange shape inside the broken gate, the swirling mass that resembled an Astral Scar.
“Take me to the land of the gods!” Trig said aloud. “Take me to… to… uh…”
Instinctively, Trig had wanted to visit Rey, Implement of Ecstasy. Then he changed his mind. No… if he was right in this guess, he could come back and find pleasure later. Right now, Trig needed answers. He spoke to the broken gate again.
“The land of the gods! Take me to Phiom, Augury of Revelation!”
The Conduit did not react. The miniature Astral Scar flickered and became a little more opaque. Trig took a deep breath and stepped through the Broken Gate.
…
It took Trig a few moments to get his bearings. He had arrived in a place that was both foreign and strangely familiar. Trig stood on the precipice at the edge of this strange new realm for a moment, overlooking a vast ocean of swirling color and shadow. Then Trig remembered: I made it! I’ve found the Shroud.
Trig turned on the spot to walk away from the ledge he materialized next to. Instead of taking a couple of steps forward, as he intended, Trig’s pace carried him a vast distance. The terrain raced away beneath his feet as though he had just crossed a continent in a single bound. The clouds and stars above moved so quickly they became nothing but a nondescript blur. Disoriented, Trig slowed to a stop and turned around.
Somehow, Trig had covered a great distance. He had gone at least two kilometers up a mountainside. A dense layer of indigo clouds hung above his head, while barren rocky terrain extended outwards in all directions. Trig could see the point where he had entered the Shroud. A stone archway, identical to the dreamworld’s broken gate, stood near the ledge. Trig realized he had materialized underneath of it.
A noise caught Trig’s attention. Looking around, he spotted a narrow tower, built from stone blocks, overlooking a bluff on the mountainside. A single window adorned the upper level, shaped like an oval, with the image of an eye painted onto the glass.
“Phiom.” Trig breathed.
The tower door, a heavy thing made from what Trig assumed to be metal, was unlocked. Just like in the Shroudwalker Enclave, Trig felt some invisible force becoming him to enter.
The interior of the tower looked like a scene from an ancient fantasy novel. Trig spotted a shelf containing hundreds of books. Trig had seen books in the Eadleton museum once: people used them to read in the days before Uplift. A work desk contained many loose papers, while in the fireplace, blue flames rose up from a pile of glowing purple embers.
Trig found Phiom on the roof, at the top of a winding spiral staircase. Here, the tower seemed to touch the roiling purple sky. A Sutharian man used a telescope to watch the movements of a dark shape in the clouds, shaped somewhat like a bird of prey.
“Phiom.” Trig said.
“That is what your people call me.” The man said. “And this is what your people think I look like.”
Phiom gestured to himself, then placed his telescope on a brass tripod and looked at Trig.
“We meet at last, Trig Shepminter, son of the man who sought to conquer myself and my brethren.”
“Oh…” Trig felt a little put out and lowered his head.
“You have nothing to fear.” Phiom said. “You and I are not enemies, although you have mistaken a potential ally for one.”
Trig started to speak, but the god interrupted him.
“You seek answers, while I seek to resume our conversation that was interrupted.”
Trig jumped with surprise as his memory was jogged.
“That’s right!” Trig said excitedly. “Can you answer any of the questions Tenna and I asked?”
“Certainly.” Phiom said, with a kindly gesture. “And do not feel the need to hurry. We are quite safe from your father here.”
Those last few words took all of the energy out of Trig’s body.
“M-My… my father?” Trig repeated. “But… my father’s dead.”
Phiom tented his fingers and shook his head.
“Quite right.” The Augury of Revelation said. “Malum Ralpakin cannot reach us here, as we are shielded from him by death. In this place, we may talk openly and safely.”
