Private The Dreamer's Adventures I - An Enkatan Curse

[Daeron Athravaegon]

PART 1
NIGH ON DEPARTURE​

Mt. Myara, Overlooking the North Coast,
*Nisí ton Dakrýon, Sea of Enkatas (774 ME)
**Isle of Tears

'Grandmaster! The wind is bl-'
'-Northward, I know.... I've been ready a while now, what kept you?'
'Water replenishment - for the journey, and all.'​

The accursed Dakrýon was no decent place to set up a Brotherhood outpost, though fortunately for the old Grandmaster, the ancient watch-tower alone was enough to suffice as accommodation for a few days, not that the order's highest-ranking officials would be there for long this time around. A few days would be more than time enough for Merussar to rest her wings for the journey ahead, and with the supplies they had brought along with them, (and all the foraging tools required to acquire more) nothing else would be needed but their patience, passible reading-light, and an even-stronger northerly wind to catch the old dragon's wings for the next phase of their convergence on the Sokogratzi foothills. Even shaving further hours from their expected moment of embarkation, the weather was also stormy enough to assume that clouds covered the skies over the northern coastlines beyond, presenting a forecast of enough dim cover to hide the dragon's approach overhead; whether this willingness came from eagerness to commence or depart the island's dread, however, neither Daeron nor Mihai could say, though both would certainly have admitted the relief that would result in the wake of their northbound flight.

'Good, though we'd be wise to keep the extra amphorae open, hm?'
'Fair point, will do.... Speaking of,"Wise", actually.... Whats the deal with the south side of the island?'
'I mean - can't you feel it? That creeping, stomach-turning fear? Not even Merussar wants to approch any closer.'


'I get it, like, almost.... You showed me and all, but - uh - none of it made any sense, not even to see it, y'know?', the High-Archon replied, still maintaining the same calm, conversational tone and tempo, the same sort of curiosity of which that once swayed a younger Daeron to take him under his wing, decades before that day. Thus the order's Grandmaster heeded his own patience to hear out the thought-process of his oldest surviving friend, but when Mihai continued,'Something about that place just- infects the mind, all of it. Matters little, though. We can learn nothing from the glyphs on those statues, or from their plaques just beneath the water line - nothing from the chains that bind the weepers.', the Dreamer knew that his friend needed to avoid the subject altogether. This was the last time Athravaegon would ever bring another being to the outskirts of the Enkatan Epicentre, and for as long as they had lasted on Dakrýon, the small blessings were already beginning to run quite scant in their existential pockets, and they needed more heft in the wind to carry the dragon's high-altitude ascent.

Planting the Ophidian Grandmaster in quite the precarious predicament, but Daeron himself was intrigued, fully aware that this was his one and only chance to understand the nature of the Enkatan Curse.

'Interesting interpretation.'
'What? Say what you mean, Daeron.'
'That last bit sounds like nothing I've ever heard, or read, for that matter. Same for the rest of it.... These things are always capable of frightening me, as you know better than most, and if I am permitted to be perfectly honest, I should've known you'd be vulnerable to something darker here.... You also forget - since we came back from that walk, this has been the fifth time you have tried to make me discuss the lore of this place, expecting a different sort of answer every time.'

Katrevic did not like that response, much less the accusatory tone Athravaegon had been trying to suppress, seemingly failing to hide that suspicion in much the same manner as Mihai's irritation, but the only course of action, regrettable though it was, had already been decided. But the right moment had not yet presented itself, made all the more difficult by the tucked in position of Mihai's chin, thinking then to target the spot behind his ear as the High-Archon further pressed,'You're not saying what you mean, nor of anything pertaining to,"The lore of this place", as you put it.... Speak, damn you!', though he soon reasoned that this would present near as much difficulty as a shot to the jaw. All the Grandmaster could do was wait a little longer, and play the slow and delicate game against the rising danger, but the aging Voivode was nothing, if not an eternally-patient man. After all, there were always methods far worse than stalling for time, this being a long-held viewpoint by then, and there was still time yet to wait for a stronger wind, making it all the easier to obey the will of his own poise in these moments.

'Oh, great.... The lore - the writings that miss the mark every time.... Fine then! But before I say anything more, I just want to clarify that I now regret bringing you on that walk down the eastern coastline. I realise now that this was a mistake, and if we make it out with your sanity intact, I just want you to know that I'm sorry for the mistake I made on the day we arrived. I will never do that to you again.'

If such a change were to occur in brighter, sunnier weathers, Daeron felt sure he would have spotted it all the sooner, and all the more certain that the mood and thought-process could have been shifted all the easier, but the Sea of Enkatas had a heart of tempestuous wrath, and the weather was the farthest thing from pleasant on the day of their phase-2 flight. This would cast quite the ominous tone on the nature of their discussion, and with the thunderous clouds casting the first downpours of rain overhead, the early evening dimness would be intensified threefold by the gathering storm, and in turn, casting a foreboding shadow over the darkening expression on his friend's face. The Taoar could only plan around the rising threat, and with the Sarmizegari's response bearing uncanny extremes of infuriation at the time, the Dreamer would do all he could to suppress his terror as Mihai finally replied,'Interesting thing to admit there, Daeron.... Elaborate, damn you! This apprehension is testing my patience!', it seemed that the only non-violent solution could be the act of knocking the High-Archon unconscious.

'Not in all the fables, not even in all the written hypotheses have I ever found such a thing like,"The chains that bind the weepers". Believe me, I've tried to learn all I could about this place, and none of it was accurate, nor even remotely faithful to the mystery this peninsula is yet to reveal.... The things you're saying, however, seem eerily specific, and as much as it pains me to say this - I now want you to continue. I want you to tell me more.'

Daeron could manage that easily enough, but he would need Mihai to drop his guard a little, as it would not be easy to catch a highly-strung man across the jaw; not for one like Katrevic, ever the brawler in his small-town drunken antics, not even Athravaegon would be so silly as to overlook his friend's greatest attribute. But something would momentarily shake Dreamer's self-confidence, as it was in the moment Mihai raised his chin when Daeron finally noticed that the pupils of his eyes had almost completely dilated, a clear sign that something else was at work here, as there was nothing living nor growing on the island that could have yielded such serotonin-adjacent derivations. Such revelations never boded well for the wise in close-proximity, as there could be no safety around one so suddenly thrilled by the onset of anger's intensification, especially not to the narcotic extremes of affectation Daeron could see manifesting within Mihai at the time.

'You mean, besides the occasional warbling, sung tones on the wind?'
'Singing?'
'YES, singing! Its not a happy tune either, and unlike any Curian hymn I ever heard.... Nothing in this world would sing, or even chant something so morose, so melancholic. But she keeps - SINGING it! Warbling with a tone that allows the wind to swallow the words, lamenting in a language of which the breeze denies me interpretation - AND SHE DOESN'T STOP, DAERON!!!! SHE REFUSES TO ST-'

[WHACK]
[THUD]​

Recoiling, backpedalling from the derelict hearth they were previously hunched around, Athravaegon would trip the back heel of his boot against a rock of fallen debris; and as a result, the old Voivode fell backward and landed on his backside, but continued scrambling backward in a terror that transcended all that his heart had ever endured before. It was not until his back hit the wall behind him when Daeron finally composed himself, though he was still certainly quite shaken, even shuddering in his voice as he not-so-inwardly questioned,'The - fuck was that? What on Gaia's surface was he talking about?', pondering aloud as if to demand an answer from the gods of the world. But against all indignance, the Dreamer would not (nor could he-) wait around for an answer, as it was then that he thought on the time he had left to prepare their departure from the island. Daeron would not have long before Mihai finally snapped out from his blunt-force stupor, fully cognizant of the fact that complications would erupt threefold in intensely as soon as Katrevic awakened, and would continue to intensify for every second their feet remained on Enkatan soil.

'The world - isn't ready for this.... We are entering into entirely new realms of peril now.... How do I even....? FuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS MADNESS!!!!'

[WOOOOOOOOOOSH]​

'Could it be?'

[WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH]​

'Good.... You're not taking me this time, Dakrýon! THE WIND IS ON MY SIDE TONIGHT!!!!'

Flipping up his middle fingers at the building around him, (apparently the Dreamer's way of telling the island where she could stick them) Athravaegon then hauled the conked-out Katrevic over his shoulder, lifting Mihai to a particular spot on his shoulder to better-carry him outside, and with more than a few grunts of exertion along the way. Urgency was still guiding the Dreamer by then, and though the hardest part had been concluded, he knew well enough that any delay would only ruin the plan completely, though the thought of the following task would appear no-less daunting to the old Voivode in these moments. Strong though Daeron was in life, old age was nonetheless thoroughly taxing on his bone-structure, just like those of his peers; but nestle between trapezius and deltoid muscles he did, and carry Mihai he would, and all the way to Merussar's favourite place to snooze on the north coast.

Cursing the island with every forward step.

PART 2
THREE NIGHTS LATER​

High-Quarry, Dar'Urma Hillocks,
West Darma, 70 Miles East of Rhezoya (774 ME)

'So you're telling me that these deforestations correlate with the activity at the Becenar's borders?'
'My gut says they do. But listen, its only going to get worse... You can say what you will of my people, but-'
'I get it, man.... The world is getting quite weird again. Your thing, however, quite normal in contrast, hm?'​

For two days, the old Sarmizegari bruiser was left unconscious, strapped to the ancient dragon's back to sleep for as long as time insisted, but in that time, the old Taoar mystic was certainly kept busy, as was old Merussar. From scouting overhead for Varags and Becenar raiders alike, to coordinating the next round of scouting endeavours for almost half the serving Ophidian brethren, Daeron's night flights had been more than productive, to say the least, a blessing for all the strange, vicious weather the False Spring had been casting out in it's lattermost weeks. All of it concluding in an interesting parley with a Varag war-chief, a man who was fortunately quite pleasant to speak with, and well-spoken at that; as it just so happened, in the previous days, this war-chief had proven more than honest with the information he shared with the Brotherhood. Even saving the lives of a fair few eager scouts before the operation's conclusion, the Varag who called himself Nokhoi had personally assisted in the following investigations, instructing where to watch from a distance, and where to walk right by, appearing beneath all the right noses at all the right times.

For all of this, Athravaegon was just on the verge of discussing the Varag's financial reward, but then-

'DAAAEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!'​

'Your friend, I presume?'
'Yup, long story - but sadly unrelated to the current problem.'
'Better that than the corpse I thought he was, when first we met.... Thought you were carrying a chomper, at first.'
'Nokhoi! This isn't the time for gallows humour. Come on, man.'

Both Taoar and Varag were chuckling despite the situation, though the full weight of urgency would soon hit them both, especially in seeing that the Sarmizegari had broken free from his tethers, appearing quite manic by the time Daeron and Nokhoi returned to the hillock's low-rising summit. The campfire was fortunately burning at it's fullest when they arrived, as Daeron could see that Mihai was unarmed in the midst of his hollering, thus relaxed his posture mid-approach as Katrevic bellowed,'WHERE ARE WE?!?! TELL ME WHERE WE ARE, DAMN YOU!!!! WHERE-', cutting himself short as the sight of the new face seemed to drag his mind to a standstill. In this sudden instant, the wheels began to turn in Mihai's disoriented mind, seemingly calming the Sarmizegari temperament as he realised,'So we made it out.... Good, good.... Fuck you, by the way. Knuckles would've done the trick-', trailing off so that he could clock his oldest friend across the chin. Nokhoi would have jumped between them if Katrevic hadn't walked away from the point of impact, seemingly satisfied enough to leave it at that, though the tension between them would surely warrant a demand for explanations.

'Its alright, Nomad. I'm calling it even there, though our friend here knows he deserves another, at least.'
'He's not wrong, Nokhoi.... Mihai, here, took a wooden staff to the temple - but he knows I had no other choice!'
'Nokhoi, huh? Pleasure to meet ya, but our friend Daeron, here, has been a silly, silly man. We'll likely have to shelf that conversation for now, though.'

'Being honest, thats fine by me... I'm not sure I even want to know.'