A Turning Point (Areya)

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5th of Searing, 121 AS

It was a hot day, despite the moderate climate that most of Kalzasi experienced. Perhaps it was due to the location, or that the sun's light seemed to pierce straight down into the gaping mouth of the Yawning Chasm from early afternoon until the start of the evening. The warmth was captured and then bounced back and forth along the craggy slopes that lead up to Mistreach Keep, leaving the walk back up from the Warrens a miserable and near torturous experience. After a long day, or perhaps days, of trudging through the death and chaos of the Deeps the final march was like a grim reminder that there was no true comfort afforded to those of the Dead Legion.

The gates into the keep stood wide, accepting Legionnaires as they entered one by one, some being stopped and pulled aside to be checked for specters or some other magical parasite or contraband. A familiar face stood talking with a tall Orkhan with ebony skin, well dressed in a suit which seemed in direct contrast to the rough appearance of those who passed him one by one. The man he talked to was a stern-looking Sky Guard, of middle years and dark hair. They were in a quiet conversation, and every so often the unnamed sky guard would nod and look over the marching Legionnaires, as if searching for someone.

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Areya and the two Legionnaires she'd been working with on the day were trudging along to the gates, tired, each with a few sacks hanging heavy from their shoulders. The Keep had called for more food missions, so Areya and her compatriots had spent the entire day catching Ploppers. It was easy, tedious work, especially since Larry was a new Legionnaire and apparently still didn't smell like the Warrens yet. The Ploppers had been jumping at him all day, while Areya and Torria caught them.

Areya hiked up her bag for better leverage, looking over at her redheaded cell neighbor, smiling lightly, listening to her talking at poor Larry. "You're gonna love lobster night! It's one of the best ones yet, even more so after spending a whole day catching them." Areya even let out a faint snort of laughter at the culinary joke. There definitely wasn't anything tasty about Ploppers, and they certainly weren't lobsters, but they were the best they'd ever get. And at least they were edible, and fresh. Fresh wasn't always available for conscripts.

As they neared the gates, Torria asked Areya, "Does the line seem long today? What's the hold up?"

Areya looked, and it did seem as if it were moving slower than typical. "Yeah, that's odd. Do you think something happened? Maybe a wraith got out again."

Torria nodded, "Well, what can you expect? When you open the gates to hell, it's gonna be a two way street." She then smiled lasciviously at Areya, "How about you..? Are you a two way street?" Areya snorted, finally understanding that sort of joke after having met Arvalyn. Meeting him had certainly helped lift her particularly grouchy spirits as of late. Torria too. It was nice having people to talk to, real talking too, for the first time in her life, not just in her conscription.

They got in line, and began the wait, Areya ahead of the other two. When they got close enough, she recognized the Sky Guard who seemed to be seeking something. It was the same man who questioned her after... the incident that left her chest scarred with those ugly burns. The man whose name she never got, nor did she understand his position or presence.

And soon, she was there in front of him, waiting to be pulled aside or allowed to pass through.

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As soon as he saw her the sky guard stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on Areya's shoulder to stop her progress.

"Legionnaire, let's have a word." His words were firm as he looked to her two companions, "Just you."

It was unceremonious, and instead of relaxing his grip tightened as he nearly pulled her to stand beside him. The Orkhan turned to face them, his eyes curious and searching. There was a weight about him. His amber eyes were young, but not youthful. Dark hair tied back in a warrior's knot, his hands were large and folded neatly at his waist. He wore no jewelry, and while his clothing was fine it was not overly ornate or embellished. When he spoke his voice was deep and sonorous, "Is this the one you spoke of?"

"She is." The grip loosened slightly, but his hand never left Areya's shoulder, "She was part of the expedition that got separated, but she came back alive."

The Orkhan turned his gaze fully on Areya then. He studied her as a man might study a painting, looking deep into her eyes, across her worn body, and deeper somehow, "What is your name?"

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Areya saw the hand coming from the Sky Guard, and instantly cast her eyes to the ground. The Sky Guards were big on the Legionnaires being submissive, all of them had seen or experienced it in many ways during their forced servitude. Her only response to the Sky Guard was "Yes, sir." As she was pulled aside, Torria and Larry were waved on through, though Torria stopped at a safe enough distance to not get barked at for holding up the line, a worried look on her face as she watched Areya. She handed off her bag to Larry, telling him to take them to the kitchens.

Areya watched as the Ork turned to face them, and she kept her eyes on his boots. She did not particularly appreciate the tight grip on her shoulder, she was not a flight risk after all. She couldn't be, not with the magical bracers in place. Then her blood ran cold about the expedition they mentioned. Had they somehow found out that she'd attempted to hide to let the Sky Guards die, instead of giving herself up to warn them? Much of it was still blurry after the days of pain caused by that... box that burned into her chest.

Was this it? Found guilty of letting them die, so she was to be executed, quickly rather than the slow death of being a Legionnaire? Her right hand was clenching and unclenching, her palms sweaty. Then she cast her gaze to meet the Ork's, feeling something about him drawing her in, an air of authority, or something more perhaps. He asked for her name.

"My name is Areya, sir."

She left it at that, knowing better than to speak out of turn or to ask questions not desired when it came to the Sky Guards.

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The Ork frowned slightly, causing the man beside Areya to draw in a breath.

"Areya." When he spoke her name he drew out the vowels, testing them before smiling, "It is a good name. You may call me Ran." His eyes turned to the other man who stiffened, "Hakumo Brennon, please release her. I do not think you have a need to be concerned."

The man, Brennon, glanced down at Areya and then back up at Ran. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but closed it as the Ork's eyes grew harder. His grip on her shoulder lessened and finally vanished as Brennon stepped back and to the side, folding his own hands behind his back and adopting the typical rest position of the Kalzasi military. Ran stared at him for a moment longer before turning his attention back to Areya.

"I do not know why you are here, in the Legion, but I do know you are no less courageous than any man or woman who ventures deep into the Warrens. I have need of that courage and the talent of someone who can return when no one expects her to." When he paused he looked past them, toward the depths of the Yawning Chasm, "I am looking for something there, in a place few have gone and fewer have returned from. I do not wish to ask this of anyone, yet still..." He looked at her again, his eyes determined, "Can you retrieve it?"

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Areya stayed quiet, listening to this Sky Guard, but was inwardly grateful the other man let go of her shoulder. She had seen the look the commanding officer had given to the man. She didn't know what rank he was, nor was she terribly clear as to what ranks were what and how to tell the differences. After all, if a Sky Guard told her to do something, she did it. That was the whole point of the Dead Legion.

When Ran shifted his focus back on her, she paid close attention. Not just to his words, but his mannerisms too. It was always good to tell if a Sky Guard was more agitated or nervous or indignant or any of a million things. Areya wasn't particularly adept at reading this, but always made the effort when it came to her prison keepers.

But a moment of confusion crossed her eyes, briefly, so briefly, but hiding her emotions was not something the Dratori was good at either. '...and the talent of someone who can return when no one expects her to.' That... was an odd turn of phrase. Why would it be more beneficial to have someone that is expected to die? She listened as he offered her a mission, in the absolute vaguest of terms. Go fetch something, Legionnaire, something we don't want to expend valuable resources on. She'd be insulted, except that was the entire reason she was alive. She often wondered that if Kalzasi didn't have such a great need for expendable soldiers, if they would just outright execute criminals. With this being the other option, she wouldn't doubt it.

And Areya wasn't ready to die yet.

So with the hubris of someone with a particularly large chip on her shoulder, and a couple of friends she actually wanted to see again, and only three more seasons left to go, she returned the look of determination. Her arms slipped behind her back, one wrist gripping the other, her shoulders pulling back, her posture straightening, shifting away from the subservient, beaten down conscripted slave.

"Yes, sir. I will. What can you tell me about it? And where is it, sir?"

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With an appreciative nod to Areya's posture and quick acceptance, Ran extended his hand. There was a faint ripple in the air, and dagger dropped into his palm. It's blade was nearly as long as a man's forearm, the steel folded in waving patterns and shown the color of an icewing's feathers. It's hilt and guard were moderately decorated, and the edge was engraved with a runic script that went from tip to handle.

"This is one of a matching pair, the other colored crimson." the Ork said as he flipped the blade and handed it toward Areya hilt first. It was unusually heavy for its size, and gave off a chill that cut through the heat in the Chasm, "It was lost in the Third Deep, in a place known as the Forgotten Kingdom."

"That is very deep into the Warrens." Brennon began, looking at the blade and back to Ran with his lips pulled thin, "That isn't the sort of expedition any one person can do on their own."

"It is not." Ran agreed solemnly, his eyes never leaving Areya, "You will need people you can trust by your side... and perhaps a map."

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Areya watched with mildly surprised eyes as she saw the dagger materialize from the air and fell into his hand. She knew it was magic, but knew not the type, being so woefully uneducated in all things magic. It was a beautiful blade, though it was certainly a bit big, even for her, taller than women of many other races. She didn't understand the language engraved upon it.

She reached out, grasping the hilt gently offered to her, and felt her hand sink under its weight. A curious look crossed her face, as she felt the goose skin crawling up her arm from the chilling blade. What a strange weapon. Of this size and weight, how big must the person be to wield it? A Moratallen? She certainly was no weapons specialist, just adept at her own axes.

When he said it was in the Third Deep, the pairing blade, her blood ran cold. The Third? The Dead Legion didn't go down there. Only the highest, strongest of the Sky Guard or foolish of adventurers went there, and almost none ever made it back. She had, of course, heard all of the stories, but it sounded even more impossible than what she'd already experienced, it was hard to trust any of them.

The Forgotten Kingdom.

It was truly insane. No wonder Ran didn't want to send any others on this. He was choosing her because she was much more expendable. Still studying the blade, she momentarily paused, casting her eyes back on Ran, "Sir, what information do you already have on this blade and the matching one you seek?" She didn't bother to ask why it was so important to gain a blade matching this one. Ran's reasons wouldn't help her. Continuing, knowing she was about to tread on a fairly bold line, "Do I have access to any particular resources and such available to the Legion and Sky Guard for this? Who is my direct commander for this?"

At the thought of building a team, she wondered who she could genuinely trust for that sort of thing. She hadn't exactly spent time building bonds with people, for the often just died. And the map, that was laughable. Every Legionnaire had heard the story of the Cursed Map. Was there more to that story or was this man desperate enough to give into idle fancies?

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The Ork studied Areya intently as she handled the blade, raising an eyebrow at her questions but allowing her to finish before speaking.

"Ru'jaken and Ra'jira." he said, extending his hand for the blade. He raised it so that he could study the carved edge, "They were forged nearly a thousand years ago, from the fangs of elder ice and magma elementals. Ru'jaken..." he motioned with the blade in his hand, "Carries the bite of the deepest winter, while her brother Ra'jira the searing heat of the molten stone. Separate they are powerful, but together they become whole once more."

The dagger vanished and Ran turned his amber eyes back on Areya, "Shohane Reina has given her support for my quest, and thus all resources will be afforded the one who leads it." He glanced at Brennon who straightened ever so slightly, but the mounting pride deflated as Ran continued, "You will be the lead in this Legionnaire Areya."

"Now hold on, that isn't--" A raised hand cut off the older man who seemed an even mix of baffled and insulted.

"The one who leads this will likely not survive." Ran said simply, "It is a fool's errand, but one I must ask to be done. Because of this, you will be afforded every resource the sky guard has to offer. Anything you require, save for officers, are at your disposal."

There was a pause as Ran took in a breath, and he looked past Areya for a moment before focusing fully on her once more, "You are not expendable. I will only send someone with the courage, skill, and luck to have a chance. I am sorry that it is you that meets these qualifications."

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Areya listened to the words spoken. She memorized every bit of what was said to her. Ru'jaken and Ra'jira. The names were beautiful, and Ru'jaken certainly carried the beauty in her forged nature. She couldn't even begin to fathom the strength of the creature it had come from, nor the skill of the craftsmen that built this blade. Something about it made her wish to hold it and never let go, a beauty intoxicating, one to be protected at all costs. To do whatever it required of her. To whoever opposed it into a statue of ice, a pale mimicry of its beauty.

And then suddenly, the blade was gone, and the siren's call vanished with it too. Though something within Areya had stirred, had awakened. She knew she would do this. And seeing the indignant annoyance in Brennon was only the icing on the cake. She was to take lead. She could do it. She would do it. And all the better to not have Sky Guard officers involved anyways. They were reliable in how they acted for sure, but they acted within limits. She would need people who wouldn't be bothered by such things.

She hadn't expected to have a wide access to resources, but she nodded curtly at this too. It would demand more management from her, but that was fine. She was being asked to do the impossible, and was grateful that the Legion was at least taking it seriously. As seriously as she would be taking it from this moment forward. Ran saying that she wasn't expendable was... unexpected. If she wasn't expendable, why was she even in the Dead Legion? Wasn't that the entire point of the Dead Legion? People that were expendable because Sky Guards weren't?

That stirred up a conflict within her, one that would be seen in her eyes, but she kept it silent. Once Ran was finished, "I will see this mission through. Thank you for the opportunity." There were many more questions she had that needed answers, but with the access to the resources provided to her, she could answer them on her own. Ran simply needed to know that she could and would do it, as far as Areya was concerned. It seemed that somehow, she effectively answered to Shohane Reina now, by way of Ran. That was an opportunity that none would be given easily, and certainly wouldn't be given out multiple times in one's life.

This was her only opportunity at not just freedom, but to more. To a real life after getting out of her. Appease the Shohane, and the world would be open to her.

Looking Ran directly in the eye, not as a lowly subordinate now, not as an expendable member of the Dead Legion, but as an equal, as one whose life actually mattered, "Is there anything else you need from me, sir? If not, I must begin preparing."