Violet || Violet

Wednesday, August 2

“What do we actually want to tell the Order when we find them?” Violet asked. Her group of three had just split from Aaron, Jake, and Shawn and were now headed deeper into the mountains. “You know, judging by how far away the castle is from these Orders, it seems like we don’t just pop in every couple of days to say ‘hi’.”

Bastian grinned. “Don’t you think they’ll be pleased to see us?”

She laughed lightly. “I hope so. They should be, but we don’t actually know. And even if they are, we still need to say something.”

Patrick nodded. “Leading with ‘by the way, we’re not actually the Masters, we’re alternate versions from a world where Echoterra is just a game’ isn’t exactly on the table.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t seem like there’s too much hoopla going on right now, though,” Bastian said. “So maybe we can just play it off as a pleasure visit.

Violet scrunched up her nose, exchanging a glance with Patrick. He’d first started camp ten years ago, along with Russette and Aaron. He knew better than almost anyone that as long as there were heroes present, there was always trouble in Echoterra.

Patrick laughed. “When isn’t there a hoopla in Echoterra? She doesn’t exactly call the heroes just for fun.”

“Yeah. Didn’t you notice how Shannon and Dan acted, when Shawn questioned them. Either the Masters are super paranoid, or something’s up. According to Shawn, they seemed to expect him to question them.”

Bastian threw up his hands, defeated. “Alright alright, there’s something up and we need a real excuse. So what do we want to say? That we’re gathering information? Do we do that? I wasn’t ever a hero, but I kinda thought that was their job. What even are our jobs?”

“Dress up like monsters,” Violet said. “Eat dinner with the kids.”

“Make the world magical,” Patrick added. “Make the magic real.”

Violet watched the look on Patrick’s face, something serene and alert and alive, all at once. She smiled, contentedly. “Honestly, Bastian, we don’t really have roles as Masters. That’s probably why there’s so much left to interpretation here. We have some kind of rank and prestige, but I couldn’t tell you what we’re supposed to do. Are we just in retirement?”

Patrick grimaced. “I hope not. That would be kinda lame.”

The three continued to talk as they moved on, but despite the many theories they came up with, they couldn’t come to any kind of conclusion, and before long, the sun was setting.

“Keep an eye out for places to pitch a tent,” Patrick said.

Violet looked around, a worried look on her face. “There really isn’t anywhere safe to stop, is there. It’s all just rocky ravines.”

She summoned up a few orbs of light. The rocks lining the path grew taller and taller until they were in a chasm so narrow they had to walk in single file. The walls changed from piles of sharp rocks to massive, jagged walls. At one point the horses almost got stuck and they had to dismount and unload them so that the horses could fit through the tightest parts. The humans followed on foot, holding the bags. After ten or so feet of the narrowest section, the chasm opened up slightly, allowing them to reload their horses.

Eventually Bastian suggested they just stop where they were. They wouldn’t be able to put up a tent, but it wasn’t like they really needed shelter from anything. It was warm and the stars were out. A few bedrolls lumped on the ground and some fluffed pillows, and it was almost comfortable. With the horses on one side and a guard on the other, they were fairly safe. So they unloaded the horses so they’d be more comfortable and they set out their bedrolls. Violet and Bastian would sleep first, as Patrick had an odd sleep cycle and would much rather stay up late than get up early. Violet would take second watch.

“The worst watch,” Bastian said, shuffling in his blankets. “How the fuck do you ever get back to sleep?”

Violet didn’t mind though. “It’s like getting two full sleeps. It’s the best shift.”

---

11:30 came way too fast and in what felt like mere moments, she was being shaken awake. Not quite a full sleep after all.

“Really?” she grumbled. “Already?”

“Mrphph,” came Patrick’s voice. That was all she got out of him as he crawled under his covers, dead to the world.

Violet summoned up some orbs and stumbled, half tripping, through their pile of belongings, assessing the condition of everything and trying to wake herself up. Patrick had done a good job of defending them from… whatever might attack them in the chasm and there really wasn’t much for her to do. Even the horses were fast asleep. Resigned to a boring shift, she positioned herself at the back of the group, staring down the ending trench they had come through. It was beyond unnervingly dark and after a while, she started getting the unsettling feeling that something was looking back at her.

She turned away, checking the clock. 11:53. It felt so much later than that. So late there wasn’t even a time to describe it. Violet leaned against the chasm wall, looking up at the sky. Clouds had rolled in, blocking the stars and moon. Would there be rain? The only light in the ravine were her two light orbs, which she played with for a bit, making them chase each other, spin around, grow and shrink. They danced past the embers of Patrick’s fire and she considered lighting it up, so she wouldn’t have to keep her orbs active all night.

It was midnight when the winds started up. It started as just a slight breeze, blowing down the way they were headed, picking up speed as it blew through the chasm. It sent shivers up her spine and she wish she’d taken the chance to start up the fire before the winds started. Soon, however, they’d picked up beyond what a small fire could withstand, howling down the trench. Even though it should have been impossible, the wind blew her orbs from her control. They both vanished, plunging her into darkness. Slowly, ever so slowly, a tiny amount of light began to register as his eyes adjusted. The walls above seemed to close together, to press in from the sides, trapping the three of them. Violet was not inherently claustrophobic, but she could swear they were leaning in. She could feel his heart beating in her ears, even over the sound of the howling wind, funneling down the chasm, whipping her short hair around her face.

Then she heard something… more. Something that wasn’t just wind or her heart and breathing. But it was too dark to see and the wind was too loud to really hear anything over it. After a few minutes, she shook Patrick lightly. She was honestly a little surprised he hadn’t already been awakened by the winds. He wasn’t exactly a deep sleeper.

Patrick didn’t even stir.

“Patrick,” Violet hissed. “Patrick, Bastian, wake up!” No reaction, no response. Not even the horses had moved. This wasn’t right. They were standing up, they should only be dozing, they should not be as deeply under as they were. This wasn’t right.

What would she do if something attacked? It would take hours to get back to the entrance of the trench and she had no idea how far ahead the exit was.

She pressed her hands against her ears, crouching as close to Bastian and Patrick as possible, making sure she was, in some capacity, touching both of them, just to make sure she knew where they were. It was all she could do. She couldn’t leave them and there was nowhere to go. She couldn’t fight anything but if that thing, that presence she felt, were to attack, there wouldn’t be anything she could do.

It was like being awake in a nightmare. The sheer darkness pressed on her. And there was nothing she could do but wait.

---

Bastian awoke with a start and Violet shrieked at the sudden movement. She’d been so phazed out that she’d barely noticed that the had wind died down.

“My shift already?” he whined, voice strikingly plain after so the only noise being the howling gale.

“Bastian? You’re awake?”

“Sure looks like it. You were saying my name.” His blankets rustled as he sat up. “Were you just sitting in the dark all shift? You’re like, the only one with the light spell, the fuck?”

Violet’s voice shook as she called up more orbs. When had the winds stopped? She’d called Bastian’s name well over an hour ago but he’d only just heard it.

“Violet! It’s 12:15! What the hell?” He slammed his head back down on his pillow, the flimsy thing doing only so much to absorb the impact. “Ow. Fuck. You gotta be kidding me.”

“Shut up,” came a grumble from Patrick.

12:15? Had it only been fifteen minutes? Violet felt nauseous but waited for the gentle snores of the others to start up before grabbing some water. There was something really not right about the chasm. This was the scary kind of magic, the magic that wasn’t enchanted bags that carried more than they should or floating orbs of pure light. This was dark and cold. Did the Masters traverse this place every time they went to the Daisan Order? Or had they gone the wrong way?

The rest of her shift passed comparatively quickly, probably due in part to her dozing off. At 3, she shook Bastian awake. He was halfway through a sleepy complaint when she fell asleep.

----

The next morning dawned gloomy and grim. The three continued on their journey, spending the morning in what was seeming to be an endless ravine. Violet road at the head of the group and spent much of the first hour trying to explain the odd happenings of the night before. The trouble was, she couldn’t get it through their heads that it was more than just a loud wind.

“I tried to wake you.”

“You did. You did a damn good job of it too.” In the morning, more well rested, Bastian’s taunt was more a lighthearted tease, but Violet still set her jaw.

“I was calling your names and shaking you like, an hour before you woke up.”

“But the wind started at midnight,” Patrick said. He must have seen how her shoulders tensed because he followed up quickly with, “Yeah! I know, magic. I mean, I feel like almost more than anyone, I’m strongly in the pro magic boat. You don’t have to convince me it’s magic just…” He gave a low whistle. “Just damn. It’s only been a few days, still a hard concept to wrap my head around.”

“Well it was magic.”

She knew Bastian didn’t quite believe her, which was fine. It really was. He got the general idea of magic but he was hesitant to ascribe everything to it because he was, occasionally, the kind of person who thought cynic was a compliment. That was fine back home; it grounded her more idealist optimism, but it could get old here.

“We believe you,” Patrick said. She could hear the glare Patrick shot at a protesting Bastian and smiled. They’d be out of the ravine soon and Bastian could find some cool, palatable magic to be less skeptical towards.

They continued on for hours, stopping only briefly for lunch, right before a very narrow section. The food was even less appetizing than the day before and they had to ration their water, since they hadn’t found any sources.

Bastian scratched at the ground with a dagger while they gave the horses a slight breath while Violet stretched her long legs, trying to shake away the soreness. Patrick poured over the map, heavy brow furrowing deeper and deeper, picking it up to turn it different ways, and scratching his beard contemplatively.

“Violet, take a look here.” Patrick gestured at the map.

Violet could immediately tell something was wrong. It wasn’t that they weren’t going the right way, but they also definitely weren’t making much progress compared to the day before.

“Maps are hard when an enchantment is the only marker,” she muttered.

“Masters too good for good old fashioned dotting lines?”

Violet bristled at Bastian’s words but Patrick put a hand on her arm. “He’s just frustrated cause he’s the most in the dark. He’s trying to laugh it off but we’re too on edge.”

Violet let out a weary sigh. “I should be the one telling you that. I’m the one who brought him here.”

“Well you’re also frustrated.” Patrick smacked the map, more a sign of resignation than of breakthrough. “Can only go forward and we know we were going the right way when we entered. So let’s keep going and see where we get.”

As the sun sank lower, though, even Patrick’s resolve began to falter. “Damnit,” Patrick swore under his breath. “We’re gonna be here another night.”

“I’m not doing the midnight shift,” Violet said. “Someone else can, but I’m not.”

Patrick nodded. “I got it, don’t worry.”

“Path is narrowing ahead,” Bastian said. “Maybe we just stop here, since we don’t know how long it is. You want me to take the first shift?”

Violet shook the offer off as she dismounted. “I’m the owl, you’re the lark. I’ll go first.” He grinned, relieved that she hadn’t taken his offer, and his smile lightened her heart a bit. So they spent another night in the chasm. Patrick would get middle shift, confirm her reports of magical wind, and with his input, they’d figure… something out.

There was space for a tent, so Patrick and Violet started on setting it up while Bastian scratched up a meager fire. It wasn’t cold in the ravine but it was grey and Violet’s white orbs did little to give it any color.

“What’s this?”

Patrick had stopped, mid hammer swing, to examine something on the ground. Violet hurried over to check it out. On the ground was a rough carving of three figures holding swords. It was hard to tell how old it was, but it looked like it had been put there by either very primitive people or a less developed race.

“Who do you think put it there?” Patrick asked, tilting his head sideways to get a better look.

“I’m not sure,” Violet mused. “But maybe it has something to do with this passageway. Maybe it’s a marker or something.”

Bastian, alerted by their tones, moved over to see what had the two so occupied.

“They all seem to be pointing their swords forward, and there are three of them.” Patrick’s voice rose with excitement. Maybe it’s saying there are three miles to go? We could have been passing a bunch of them and wouldn’t have noticed from the horses!”

“Uh…” Bastian said.

“No, but that could be it,” Violet said. Relief broke across her like a morning sun. “We could be close to getting out!”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Bastian said.

“Come look at it closer.” Patrick moved to give him space.

“It’s obviously some marker of some sort,” Violet said. “If it’s not a marker of distance it could be a marker denoting something. A village or - or the Daisan!” Her stomach did a little flip. They could be just hours from the Order.

“I don’t think it’s any of that.” Bastian all but interrupted her and Violet wheeled on him, ready to give him a bit of her mind, but stopped when she saw how pale he was.

“Why are you so sure?” she asked.

“Because I carved that in the ground when we stopped for lunch.”