At first It was impossible to tell if the darkness was from volcanic ash or simply a blindfold. Perhaps neither? Was this what lucid dreaming was? No, this was a nightmare. Hands were trying to hold him down and all was black. Flailing his arms wildly, he was able to escape restraint. Still, darkness was everywhere and he was completely lost. He crawled but soon fell off a short ledge into what felt like a shallow pool of water. Again, there was a force trying to smother him but he kicked back and it stopped.

Feeling trapped, he stayed where he was and focused on the sound and feeling around him. Rain. He must be outside. Finally, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and his disorientation faded. Roland was able to survey his surroundings and partially understand what had just happened: He was lying in a pool of mud just outside of the wagon that was taking his original body to Alderly. His plan must have worked, yet everything was wrong. The four guards that were escorting him were dead. Ripped apart like they were made of cheap paper.

Were they the ones that were try to hold me down? thought Roland. Did I kill them? I need to get away from here as fast as I can.

He grabbed his satchel from the wagon. He also saw a large pack inside. That must be the provisions that he had ordered the guards to prepare back at Serene Castle. He took that as well and started to run. The road to Alderly was well-travelled and it wouldn’t be long before someone else came across the murdered guards. Covered in filth and blood, Roland knew he would be quickly be identified as the responsible party if he was seen by anyone here. He decided to leave the road entirely and headed north into the wilderness. If he was already close to Alderly, he could eventually connect with the Midland River and cross over the border to Valdt at a different location.

It was dark and rain was pouring down but he was moving fast. The brush in this part of the country wasn’t particularly thick so he had no problem running at full speed. The storm clouds eventually broke and with sunlight he could see the open landscape surrounding him. This made him relax a bit as there was no immediate danger. Stopping at the side of a small creek to compose himself, he went through the events since he awoke and that’s when panic returned. Never before had he felt this kind of terror as he realized what was wrong: He’d been running for hours yet wasn’t the least bit exhausted. Looking at his reflection in the water confirmed what should have obvious back at the wagon: He was still in Eliza’s body.

***

Paralyzed by the realization that his body was likely no more, he lay by the creek wallowing in a failure he hadn’t anticipated. He never should have been so arrogant and cavalier when it came to such powerful magic. Why didn’t he find a way to test the spell first? Death would nearly be preferable to this scar. Now he was a living reminder of his failed experiment and the stupidity of his `brilliant’ plan. As to what actually occurred, the only explanation that he could think of was that he had misunderstood what the power words he shouted while diving into the Mouth of Infernos actually did. They didn’t reverse the earlier body swap spell, they simply caused the two bodies to physically change locations. What else could have happened? Two different yet very similar spells. A simple misinterpretation led to his body being vaporized.

In the morning, he awoke covered in frost. He started to move around and his bones began to ache. Not terribly so, but there was some pain. Miserable, he continued to head north. The warmth of the bright sun served as a distraction from his new reality but this temporary respite ended when he found that he had to now stop at regular intervals to rest and drink water. This got worse as the day progressed. Eliza’s power must be slowly draining from him. It made him dizzy to think that his old body was now ash and that he was going to be stuck in the body of a teenage brat for the rest of his life. Eventually he became physically ill and had to stop for the night. Maybe I’ll freeze to death and this will all be over, he thought. One body burned, one frozen. Hopefully someone will appreciate the symmetry of my failure.

His second night in the wilderness was much worse than his first. He woke up before the sunrise shivering and had to start moving to keep warm. Eliza’s power was now almost completely gone. He’d die if he stayed out here another night. There was no trace of civilization or even shelter nearby, however to the northeast he saw what must be the Dragon’s Teeth Hills. Their periodic and triangular shape were so distinct that they were easy to identify even for someone who had only read about them in books. This meant that the legendary Star Chamber was near as it was said to be located on one of their hilltops. This structure was mentioned in many texts about the Heroic Age as it was key to bringing the Chosen together. Devised by the ancients as a tribute to the Celestials, it was supposed to contain an elaborate tracking system based on the triangulation of starlight. Not only could it provide shelter, it might also give Roland further insight into the Chosen. Depressed but also slightly intrigued, Roland headed off.

By late morning he could see a glint of sunlight reflected off of something on a nearby hilltop. The chamber had a roof made entirely of glass so that must be the source. When he reached the foot of the hills, he saw that they were actually closer to mountains in height. It would take the rest of the day to reach the chamber. Worse, the temperature was beginning to drop and he could see dark clouds in the distance moving in his direction. As he progressed, the clouds blackened the sky and it began to snow. By nightfall, a snowstorm was now fully upon him but he’d reached the Star Chamber. Its heavy iron door yielded to the final bit of Eliza’s strength that was still in his body. Opening it only a little, he squeezed himself through and pushed it shut again. The air of the vestibule was stale but he found it refreshing to finally be out of the elements.

There were some thick cloaks hanging on the walls and he grabbed one to warm up. The main chamber itself was enormous and had a quiet, eerie beauty to it. Large prisms, lenses, and windows made up the ceiling. The entire space appeared to be lit up by starlight. Perhaps this was illusory magic? The chamber’s roof must now be covered by snow and the clouds would be blocking any starlight from reaching the hilltops. Roland walked across the main floor of the chamber. It had a few markings but its most important feature was the specs of light that slowly moved on its surface. These indicated the positions of the Chosen in Relmgard.

After crossing the large chamber, he slumped down against the wall opposite the entrance. All of Eliza’s power had now left his body. More depressing, though, was what he had just seen. There was a semicircle etched in centre of the floor that represented the location of the Star Chamber in Relmgard. One of the points of light was moving directly towards it. The speed of that point was so much faster than any of the others that Roland knew exactly who it was and what it meant. The Hero of Relmgard had been following him and would be here soon.

***

Roland didn’t know what to expect when the Hero of Relmgard walked through the door, but this was not it. In coloured plate illustrations the hero was always depicted as a wide-eyed youth wearing greenish-blue armour. This person was much older and was dressed like a simple merchant or trader. He had an amulet around his neck that contained no gemstones and instead looked like it was made up of several flat pieces of metal. Almost like some sort of mechanical device. The oddest thing, however, was that on his belt he had a scroll case where a scabbard would normally be.

“Hail, wayfarer,” said the hero as he brushed snow off of his shoulders. “Cold as a frost giant’s nut sack out there. That shitheel Isring must be neglecting his duties again. Protecting travellers? Ha. Likely off committing statutory rape. I know, I know, blasphemy you say! Well these fucking Celestials each have one task to do and they always piss off whenever you need them to actually do it. I tell you, if they could have picked their own vocations we’d have a thousand deities to drinking and sodomy. Anyways young scholar, what brings you to such a remote location?”

By this point, Roland was accustomed to this type of crude bluster so it did not catch him off guard. He proceeded with an act that he had been preparing as he was waiting for the hero to arrive. He had casted a voice changing cantrip so that the hero wouldn’t immediately identify Eliza’s voice. Wrapped in his cloak and standing in the shadow of one the chamber’s pillars he began to speak.

“Greetings, stranger. I’m a pilgrim visiting all of the sites of historic importance during the Heroic Age.”

“Ah yes, you were lucky to come across the Star Chamber. It’s not marked on any maps that I know of. Clearly Isring favours one of us. Hopefully you didn’t have to do anything more than pray to get in the good graces of that lecherous fuck. There I go again. All in jest, all in jest.”

“Lucky or well-read,” replied Roland. “Its location is described in several texts detailing the Heroic Age.”

“I suppose it is, I suppose it is. You must know how this marvel works then?”

“Yes. The windows in the ceiling are actually large lenses. They focus starlight onto the floor of the chamber. Each beam of light corresponds to one of the Chosen and the points on the floor indicate their relative positions to one another in Relmgard. Only a few locations are indicated on the floor, so one is left to triangulate the actual physical locations of the Chosen.”

The hero nodded his head in approval, “A textbook explanation. You certainly were nursed at Hesteria’s bosom. Knowledge must have flowed from her enormous tits to your mouth.”

Roland thought for a moment, “Apparently it would seem that starlight can still come through the ceiling even though the roof is covered in snow. So I suppose the optics are less important than the magic in the actual operation of the chamber. In any event, fascinating to finally see it in person.”

“Yes, a wondrous creation. Consider, though, that this great invention was built during a time when there was no indoor plumbing. To focus one’s attention on communing with the Celestial Kingdom when you could potentially die shitting down the side of a mountain seems completely irrational. Makes you question the priorities of the ancients and subsequently their wisdom.”

After a few minutes of silence Roland spoke again, “I am puzzled by one aspect of the chamber.”

“What’s that? And don’t tell me it’s the absence of a lavatory. Ha. If you need to go just take a cliffside walk in the snowstorm. The ancients certainly thought that was a satisfactory situation. Maybe my imagination is too narrow. Perhaps there’s some elaborate device built into the walls that could help with the job.”

“No, what I don’t understand is why there appears to be three rays of light missing.”

“Well that’s no mystery, is it? They’re dead.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

The hero wet his lips with his tongue, “Now you can answer a question for me.”

He walked towards the centre of the chamber, “What are the names of your accomplices?”

“My what?” replied Roland.

“Your accomplices. The only reason why I didn’t walk over there and crush your skull the moment I came through that door. I need their names and locations. I know there are at least two of them, so who are they?

“Or did you think you had me fooled with this charade? Ha. The acting was so stiff I would have mistaken you for a stone golem if you were covered in moss. You may be Isring and Hesteria’s favourite son, but Aelis bestows no fortune on thee. Perhaps not your fault, that Celestial is one fickle cunt. On the other hand, that pilgrim narrative you tried to sell me on was so fucking ludicrous I don’t know what she could have done. Even a being with cosmic powers couldn’t give stage direction to that awkward act of comedy.

“So, let’s hear some names, young scholar.”

Roland was silent.

“I suppose another option is that you try to escape and I allow you to. I feign surprise at your quickness or you use something to divert my attention and slip out of my sight. Then, once you’ve left the chamber I continue to track you from a distance and you would eventually lead me to them. But only a fool would fall for that old ploy. I mean you’d be travelling on foot and I can turn into a dragon. How realistic is it that you’d escape my grasp at this point?

“So it’s torture then.”

The hero opened the scroll case that was attached to his belt and removed a large roll of parchment from it. He then proceeded to unroll several feet of the scroll. From where Roland was standing it was hard to make out any details but it looked like there was no writing on the parchment, only large drawings of weapons. The hero touched one and a dagger materialized in his hand. He then fumbled around as he tried to put the scroll away while holding the dagger.

“Apologies, no storage system is both robust and convenient. Even the magical ones. You recognize this?”

He held up the dagger and Roland could see in the starlight that it was decorated like a ceremonial knife.

“The Dagger of Miracles! The athame of the high priest! Originally designed so that its wielder could maintain his stamina in battle for long periods of time. Thought to have been bestowed on a pious hunter in his righteous battle against … oh who gives a fuck. It’s just a dagger that is enchanted with a heal spell. The wild irony that some virtuous being created the finest instrument of torture, well, I guess us mortals will never match the humour of the Celestials. You see, if I get carried away while carving you up with this thing, I can use the heal spell to stop you from dying too soon. Infinite pain. So brutally fucking perfect.”

“You give this performance often?” scoffed Roland. “It would seem Aelis has affection for neither of us.”

“Finally you reveal an ounce of wit! And here I thought you were just going to sulk in the shadows until my knife met your flesh.”

The hero sighed, “I’ll be honest with you, I normally don’t have the patience for this exercise but I need those fucking names.” His demeanour then improved as he continued, “You were able to get close to Talon, so you must have some affinity for gambling. Care to wager on how long you can hold out?”

“Before we go down that path,” said Roland. “I’d like to propose a solution that can bring this confrontation to a quicker conclusion: an exchange.”

“An exchange? Well young scholar we’re already going to be exchanging your blood for my time. But pray, what else do you have in mind?”

“Knowledge. You answer my questions and I’ll answer yours.”

“And what’s in for you?”

“You keep calling me a scholar. Then you must know that I have a curious mind. I’ll die satisfied.”

“I assure you that anything you’ll learn from me won’t be the least bit satisfying. Nothing in this Relmgard is.” He paused and changed his tone. “Well except the harlots in Lenros. Best whores in either of the two material worlds.”

“Very well,” said the hero. “But tread lightly. There are some answers even the dead can’t know.”

“First, I’d like to know: Why run the world like this?”

“An idealist are we? What do you object to, exactly? Prior to our rule Relmgard was a fucking nightmare. Simply walking outside of a town meant risking being hacked to death by any number of creatures. Now its denizens can live out peaceful lives devoted to their own pursuits.”

“Even those that are sold into slavery?”

“You’re referring to the ‘lifetime contracts’ that many servants sign? Yes, an objectionable practice, but one that is entered into voluntarily. Recall, oh worldly pilgrim, that true slavery was eliminated by the Chosen. I was an ardent champion of that cause. So don’t lecture me on liberty when you’ve done fuck all yourself.”

“And magic?” asked Roland. This, of course, is it what he really wanted information on. “Why eliminate that wonder from Relmgard? It brought joy and meaning to so many that pursued its study.”

“Well, magic was a most inequitable affair. Some were born with the ability to use it, most weren’t. Hardly fair is it?”

“Ha, do you agree with that viewpoint? You were literally blessed by the Celestials at birth.”

“Well, we can’t change the past, can we?” said the hero with a smirk. He then put on a more sarcastic tone, “Oh I’m sure you’re shocked to learn that I benefited the most from a sweeping social change that I myself implemented.”

“How brazenly cynical,” replied Roland.

The Hero scoffed, “Brazen, yes. But I don’t have a cynical bone in my body. How many magic users were there in Relmgard? One for every thousand people? Less? From that tiny fraction, a majority abused their powers for personal gains. Magic has always been the great enabler of sociopaths and tyrants. Its elimination has been a net positive to Relmgard.”

Roland was about to ask another question about magic when the hero cut him off.

“Listen, if I had to choose between standing here and answering more questions on governance or heading back into that storm outside, I’ll take the fucking storm. However, don’t forget there’s a third way.” He spun the dagger in his fingers in case it wasn’t obvious what he was referring to. “I’m not here to answer your questions about civics or indulge your childish ideas about how you think the world should be run. So let me give you a succinct summary of why it would be fucking impossible to transform Relmgard into some sort of paradise for all that inhabit it: Good intensions cease mattering once power reaches a certain level.

“Now, you can ask your executioner one final question.”

Who destroyed Sages’ Keep? Who killed Christoph? These are questions that he already knew the answers to. How old are you really? Can the twinned barrier be destroyed? These are questions that the hero would likely not answer even if he was certain that the answers would never leave this chamber. Roland now knew he would never get any material information from the hero, but he had already learned quite a bit about his character. He decided to pursue that even further.

“What is the truth of this world?”

“You would ask someone you believe to be a cynic that question? Your sense of humour is growing more endearing by the fucking minute.”

The hero paced around as he delivered his response, “I suppose I could provide you with a trite answer appropriate for such a question. You know ‘the truth of this world cannot be found in this world.’ Some platitude of that sort. But here is my sincere answer. My truth. The game is the game.”

He reiterated, “The game is the fucking game.”

To Roland’s ears, this was the most trite answer the hero could have given.

“That’s it?”

“Well maybe you should have thought of a better fucking question,” the hero chuckled. “Why would it be more complicated than that? Look at how the other Chosen have found meaning in their existence: Talon had his gambling. Eliza, well you know about her indulgences. Edwin and Louisia have their`art.’ Rylan has his war games. I could go on. But you get the idea: Time has made us all prisoners of our vices. Our compassion, empathy, and humour have boiled away, leaving only instincts. For me, it’s the pursuit. The thrill of the hunt. Tracking down children of the prophecy like yourself.”

“There have been others?”

“Many. And there’s always a twist, something I didn’t anticipate. That’s what makes the experience exciting. The pursuit gives me purpose. It is my truth. Would you not say that your path to this point has been unique? Well, I followed it as well and it was an enjoyable trail.

“Although slaughtering those guards outside of Alderly was a misstep. So fucking uncharacteristic that I thought I might be walking into a trap coming here. That now appears to be a gross overestimation of your skills on my part. So, why don’t we start with my questions?”

“Fine. I’ve heard enough of your schoolboy philosophy anyways. So disappointing.”

“Well, the truth is often disappointing isn’t it?”

“No, I’m not disappointed in your answers. I’m disappointed in you. For all his faults, Talon’s skill at commerce allowed Bright Port to flourish. Yes, Eliza enjoyed the basest pleasures of life, but she also devoted an enormous amount of time to governing Serene and taking care of its people.

“You? You’re pathetic. With the ability to soar through the Celestial Kingdom you instead spend your life murdering innocents for sport. Tell me, are you a man that changes into a dragon or a dragon that changes into a man? I only see an impulsive beast who’d be laughed out of any tavern if he babbled on like you have.”

The hero began to turn one of the metal pieces on his amulet. His eyes started to grow wide and become filled with a dark crimson.

“Defiant until the end. I haven’t eaten my prey in a long time, but soon you’ll see exactly how savage I can be.”

Roland knew he couldn’t stay here much longer.

The hero took his hand of the amulet and whatever transformation was taking place stopped for the moment.

“But first, oh wise pilgrim, what is your truth? Who the fuck are you to question me?”

If Roland had froze to death this morning, he might not of cared. But standing in this chamber, talking with the Hero of Relmgard, made him recognize how truly pathetic one can be. He was nowhere near that low. The wasted potential of this callous being was infuriating. He now yearned for that sensation Mallory must have felt when she plunged the Blade of Virtue into Talon. I guess I’m back in the game, he thought.

“You tracked me for this long and you don’t know who I am?” asked Roland.

“I’m the Seeker you failed to destroy; The last wielder of arcane knowledge; My soul was forged in the Mouth of Infernos and none in Relmgard can stand before me. Yesterday I flew across the Argol Ocean, tomorrow I cut down the last of the Chosen!”

The hero knew that Roland was mocking a famous speech that he had given during the Heroic Age. His patience worn thin, he began to move quickly towards Roland but it was too late. Roland had already thrown the void stork feather that he had in his pocket into the air. He was gone.