The Black Spire. According to the briefing Ambika and her to-be-companion, Hadassah received, there used to be a beautiful circle of flowers around its ruins some months ago, which has apparently been replaced with a literal portal. Reports from other adventurers state that they heard howls of pain and anguish on the wind, and felt a general sense of dread wafting in the air during their exploration. Further investigation of the flowers had apparently resulted in the adventurers reverting in age and regressing to their teenage years, specific ages dependent on their race's adolescent period.

All this information may be pertinent to this investigation. Or it may be completely irrelevant. Such is the nature of the ever-changing world. Regardless, Ambika made sure to read through as many reports as she could before it was time to move out. Information may be the difference between life and death when it comes to adventure.

The journey to the Black Spire itself was uneventful for the most part, since they were able to hitch on a ride officially sponsored by the crown. Ambika observed Hadassah as the two headed towards their destination. She seemed to be a capable fighter, her toned, lean muscles visible in her silhouette and her movements refined and without wasting unnecessary energy. 

The portal was soon within sight. Ambika would wait for approval before stepping into the portal together. 

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: World of Wonder
Participants: Exactly Two
Location: The Black Spire (Capitol Landing)
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +2 Renown, 1 Mystical Archive Ticket
Description: At each location, where there once sat a beautiful ring of flowers, now sits a literal rip in space - a portal of raw magic that seems to be leaking into Charon. This portal is unstable and does not seem to connect directly to the Land of Wonder, but instead a small pocket of space, like a tunnel. The Crown is asking you to enter one of these portals and record what you find, while staying careful not to disturb anything there. The Crown is not interested in making enemies out of the Fae.

You are stepping into the unknown, but in order to protect the people of Charon, we must be aware of their potential. Scholars believe the Fae are here to stay, and if we are to be successful in integrating them, we must learn fast. Don't stay too long or get yourself into trouble, record what you find and come back home!

Hadassah remained unusually quiet for the majority of the trip, her fingers writing furiously in a small leather journal she kept close. She'd paid special attention while she and her travelling companion were briefed on what to expect from other adventurers. She'd written everything down, and continued to study the information, making additional notes as they approached their location. She only stopped scribbling occasionally to monitor their surroundings and make light conversation with Ambika as not to be rude. She'd never seen a portal before, let alone one as strange-sounding as this one. Howling and dread. She'd circled this multiple times in her notebook, as she wanted to be mentally and emotionally prepared for what they might be getting into. Flowers that revert age. She'd scribbled more question marks than necessary by that phrase, wondering how plants could do such a thing, how long the effect would last, and so on. She'd gotten in the habit of writing her questions down rather than bothering folks with her many queries. Either way, something about the reports they'd received about this place made Hadassah feel uneasy and somewhat sick to her stomach. 

Once the two arrived at the portal, Hadassah tucked away her notebook, approaching the strange portal cautiously, her eyes darting around it, taking it in for a moment. She took a deep breath, her heart already beginning to race with anticipation before she turned to look at her Ambika. "Shall we?" 

Ambika gave an acknowledging nod to Hadassah, and she stepped into the portal. As she did, the portal lights seem to stretch and envelop the surroundings, leaving a sheet of undulating colours of unperceivable depth as the only visible element for a few moments before the multicoloured veils gave way to a new view that appeared similar to the dreary scenery one might find in the more ravaged parts of the world, and yet somehow... different. Smouldering ruins now littered the floor they stood on, with thick, billowing clouds of ever-shifting haze surrounding one side of the space they now occupied, and the other side... well, there wasn't much of an other side. A short distance beyond the ruins, the periphery seemed to blend into the sky, acting as a horizon of sorts, though it was impossible to determine from the angle they were on how far the horizon or the haze stretched. Discarded weapons and scarred earth could be seen amidst the fickle haze, suggesting that it used, or is a battlefield of some sort. Distant echoes seemed to ring from beyond the haze, though she could not make out any presence, nor did she sense anyone else other than her companion.

Exploring the non-hazy areas appeared to be the best option at the moment, so Ambika swept her hand at the clear surroundings and was about to explain her game plan when a sudden howl broke her attention.

"...You mangy... scoundrel..." Ambika instinctively turned towards the direction she heard it from, within the haze. She remembered that voice as though it were yesterday. How could she not? It was the first person she ever killed. She had just left her hometown for the outside world under the sincere belief that anywhere else would have been easier to live in compared to that hive of thievery. She was quickly proven wrong - strange as it was, her hometown had its own communal tenets and unwieldy forms of kindness - Ambika was genuinely alone in these foreign lands, where the only care afforded to her was either transactional, or the kind that ran shivers up her spine. So it was a matter of time before she was met with the sort of cruelty that warranted fighting back. A tall, clean-cut man caught her stealing and chased her into a corner, offering to sell his silence in return for certain favours, only to try to force his way regardless, which ended in a lucky stab of a knife in his gut. 

That man uttered the very same words that had just passed her ears in his final breaths. Ambika turned her head to Hadassah to assess whether she'd heard the same.

Hadassah followed Ambika, stepping into the portal after her. She suddenly felt as if her head was spinning as light and color squeezed and stretched and enveloped them. Hadassah couldn't help but squeeze her eyes shut for just a moment to keep from feeling dizzy or straining her eyes. When she opened them, they stood in the ruin of what felt like a colder, darker world than the one they'd just came from. Hadassah blinked away the remaining blur from her eyes, her muscles tensing as she took in their surroundings; the scattered weapons, rubble, and the thick haze of it all.

Amongst the unwelcome scenery was something else though—whispers and moaning coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The entire place sent a chill down her spine and raised goosebumps on her skin. As she tried to keep to the task at hand.

She glanced at her companion who had turned to her, a question in her eyes. "Do you hear something?" Hadassah asked in a near whisper. There didn't appear to be anyone else around, yet...

Hadassah suddenly flinched, the scream of a young boy rattling in her ears. "Addie!" The boy yelled her name, his voice mixed with genuine pain and fear.

Hadassah froze, her eyes desperately searching for the source of that painfully familiar voice. Her heard raced in her chest as an unclear image flashed in her mind briefly; the face of her childhood friend, Seth, covered in blood. Was he dead? In truth, she didn't know, but she hadn't seen him since. She could barely remember what happened, but....he couldn't have died, could he? "No," Hadassah whispered to no one in particular. She wondered if Ambika could hear him too.

Hadassah's question indicated that she too, heard something, but her expression told Ambika it probably wasn't what the latter had heard.
Strong emotions were carved onto Hadassah's demeanour, suggesting an echo that dug out highly personal feelings.

"Yes. I heard the voice of a man, undone by my hand in self-defense." Ambika was unsure if she should be entirely honest given it entailed her past, and that Hadassah was clearly shaken by whatever entered her consciousness, but ultimately, falsehoods would do naught to help their situation.

Other voices soon began their assault on Ambika, a mix of cries ranging from scathing accusations, unforgiving curses and tearful distress. She recalled each and every one of those voices as they shouted into her ears, not by choice, but rather due to a life lesson instilled by her elders. Remember everyone you kill, for their chains may return to drag you into the earth. She had seen one of those chains in action during her childhood - its victim was a serial adulterer, ruining families left and right before finally settling down at the hidey-hole that was her hometown.

Questions were rarely asked there - it was a village made by, of, and for people with questionable backgrounds. So nobody really asked when a young woman, likely in her late 10's, moved into the village too. She regaled her way into the adulterer's circle, earning the latter's trust before ripping it all away in full view of the village during a festival, tying him up onto a stake and watching him burn to death. The adulterer's last moments were of sheer horror trying to remember who the young woman could possibly be in an attempt to save himself. The answer never came on either end, and the young woman was gone the very next day, never to be seen again.

Ambika steeled her nerves amidst the cacophonous onslaught, keeping close to Hadassah while keeping her wits about her. Her hands will never be clean, not before, not now, not ever. Once a thief, always a thief. Once a murderer, always a murderer. The chains of cause and effect shall never come undone, and so she must shoulder them to her very end.

“A man?” Hadassah repeated as she looked at the woman. Though Hadassah heard the Ambika’s response, she hardly processed it as the young voice continued to call out to her, screaming and wailing louder and louder each time. “Addie! ADDIE! STOP!”

Hadassah was not a killer. Perhaps the skills she learned and the history of her family lead to the deaths of enemies, but she was young and her skills were not as strong as she wanted them to be. She was no killer. She’d bled and bruised those who threatened her and those she cared about. She’d watched others kill and yes, she assisted in that because it was necessary for the greater good, but she did not kill. Only as the voice of the boy cried out to her in this strange place did she start to remember that there may have been one exception to that statement. Hadassah covered her ears as the voice rung loudly in her ears, but even with her palms covering them, she heard the voice just as loudly as before.

She was young then; they both were. They were playing, she thought, or maybe they were fighting, but she couldn’t remember why. She couldn’t remember because it was so long ago, but she remembered the sounds Seth had made when the stone connected with his head, causing the boy’s skull to gush more blood than she had ever seen in her life at that point. She remembered calling for her mother, or her uncle, or anyone that was old enough to help. She remembered Seth crying and screaming for help and he sounded so afraid and in pain that she had become equally as frightened. Then he started making sounds she’d never heard before and they were horrible; his little body seized and more blood spilled on the grass and…did she kill him? She couldn’t remember. A visual flashed through her mind of her mother sitting her down, saying that she needed to talk to her about something important, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“It was an accident,” Hadassah whispered, her ears still covered as tears began to run down her face. “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.”

Hadassah's countenance contrasted Ambika's near perfectly - while the former's tears ran down her cheeks as she vainly attempted to cover her ears to shut the noise out, Ambika's expression remained firm as her ears rang with every shout, every curse, every cry thrown her way. 

"Discount not the cries of the dead. The responsibility of ending a life lies in your hands now and forevermore, and the cries will only be louder if you pretend otherwise."  Ambika recited her elders' teachings to Hadassah. She knew not the latter's story, but it was a reality she must accept, and they did not have the luxury of wallowing in their grief in this foreign land.

Recounting all the voices, Ambika found that they were in chronological order of when she killed them. From her first blood to the assassinations she did while she belonged in a thieves' guild, to the self-defense kills as a proper adventurer... Which means the next wave would include... them. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She wasn't going to give in to her emotions, not here.

Sure enough, the agonizing screams and excruciating groans of her family's murderers assailed Ambika alongside all her other victims. Almost none of them were given easy deaths, not after they splattered her family's blood on her face in front of her eyes. She couldn't quite recall what exactly she had done to them, but suffice to say, the rage from that accursed night still surges through her veins and she had to muster all the self-restraint she had to keep herself from shouting back. Especially not with Hadassah's current state. She had to stay rational, for both their sakes.

It was then that the haze began to shift, coalescing into... humanoid shapes? As the form became more defined, Ambika realized what was happening. The telltale silhouette of her first kill, a flamboyant Moon Elf who was perpetually smiling. Ambika instinctively shot at it with her crossbow, and needless to say, the bolt flew past it harmlessly as you would expect when you are firing a projectile into empty air. The haze did waver slightly from the velocity of the arrow affecting the surrounding air, but it was nowhere near enough to cause any lasting effects. The other clusters of haze were steadily shaping into form as well.

"We need to go. Now!" This was bad. Neither of them had any real means to deal with these wispy silhouettes should they intend to cause harm.

Hadassah took a few breaths to calm herself as Ambika recited the wisdom of her elders to her. She still heard Seth screaming in her mind, but with each breath it seemed to get a notch quieter. The responsibility of ending a life lies in your hands, she repeated to herself. She could feel her heart cracking as she wrestled with herself to accept what she had done, even if it took her years to realize the weight of her mistake. She would have time to process it and work through it later, when they were out of this mess and when she could be alone. For now, she needed to get it together. Her hands trembled as she pulled them away from her ears, the voice still there, but not as evident now. Hadassah’s gaze flicked to Ambika as she nodded to her in understanding. “Than-Thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Hadassah took one final deep breath, shaking out her hands as she regained her focus, pushing the whispers to the back of her mind for the time being. “Alright, so what now?” Hadassah finally asked Ambika, as she seemed much more calm and collected than she had been. Whatever Ambika heard and whatever she had been through, she was clearly much stronger mentally than Hadassah was. Eventually, she would learn. For now, they had a job to do.

As she looked around cautiously, Hadassah began to notice that the haze and fog around them began to morph and change into something else. With minutes a humanoid figure stood before her, in the fog, small in stature—like a young child. Before she could give her already suffering mind the chance to react, she quickly turned to look away from the figure, looking instead to Ambika who stood quietly like a beacon of strength beside her. She noticed a brief flicker of something on the woman’s face; perhaps unease or pain, and just as Hadassah opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, Ambika shot at the figure in haze. Hadassah watched curiously as the fog tunneled with the force of her projectile before coming back together to retain its shape as if nothing happened. Hadassah swore under her breath as the silhouette of the young boy appeared to step forward, setting Hadassah a step back, closer to the portal. If the haze was made of water, she might have been able to work with it, but it was hard to tell with her mind going a million miles an hour in strange territory.

Hadassah wasted no time once Ambika yelled, turning swiftly on her heels and bolting to the portal. She hesitated for a moment to make sure her companion made it through before following close behind, just as the figure in the haze swiped at and missed her back.

Immediately after Ambika saw Hadassah pivoting towards the portal, she swiftly followed suit whilst taking a glance at the latter's face, now filled with renewed determination. Good. There will be time for weakness later. The hazy silhouettes gradually became more and more pronounced, energies coursing in the air as though they were manifesting into corporeal entities rather than remain gaseous illusions. She could hazard a guess that the rest of the incomplete figures were all her other victims, and it would be near impossible for just our two adventurers to handle them all. After all, she had the blood of dozens on her hands.

Just as Ambika's right foot stepped into the portal, the last person she would've expected to hear in these mysterious lands whispered gently into her ear.

"Mother."

Ambika's head snapped round as quickly as it possibly could. There he stood, with the unflappable smile and inscrutable eyes he always wore, his posture seemingly unguarded yet ready to move into action in the blink of an eye. His silhouette differed from the others in that the colours showed on his form as though he were really there unlike the gamut of greys exhibited by the haze, and that his form was more like floating, glittering sands slowly scattering away from the winds.

"Kishan!" The name escaped Ambika's lips, quivering emotionally before she could even process what was happening. And then there was nothing. Everything was gone, replaced by an unnatural silence and dancing colours flowing in reverse from when the two had entered the portal the first time.

The Black Spire came into view once more, the portal silently vibrating behind the two in the air. The day was nowhere near over, and yet the weight of exhaustion already sat heavy on Ambika.

Hadassah took a deep, trembling breath as the fresh air hit her lungs, settling around them once again. She felt as if she might have suffocated in that place, and it was a relief to be out of it, even as the voice of the boy lingered in her mind like a ghost she could not shake. She stood frozen for a moment, her body betraying the determination she felt not very long ago. She'd listened intently to the briefings, taken notes, even let her imagination run wild, thinking all along that these things would have been enough to mentally prepare herself for what she would find in the portal. She was, unfortunately, quite wrong about how ready she was, and she was suffering the consequences. Though her mind was as quiet as the fresh air around her, she could still hear the fear and pain of the boy's screams, sounds that she'd long forgotten until now. A deep sense of dread lingered as if she'd never escaped that place.

She looked up, staring up for a moment at the sky, a stark difference from the darkness they'd just escaped, before turning to look at Ambika who appeared to be quite shaken by something that Hadassah had not seen. "What is it? Are you alright? What in the world was that?" Hadassah's questions came one after the other, her concern for her companion easily overriding her dread and the desire to quietly process what they had just experienced.

Ambika did not wish to elaborate. Not for the implications it likely held, much less the parting words that remained in her head still.

I'll see you again.

But Hadassah deserved something, at the very least. Experiences were the lifeblood for helping others, and she was in much need of some.
"I will never be alright. But it need not be the same for you. The cries of the dead may never leave you. Respect that. You will live. You must live. As your atonement, and as your punishment. If you killed so that you may live, then it is only appropriate that you make use of every second you have unduly earned."

Yes, Ambika was reminding herself of the ambivalent wisdom of her elders as much as she was dispensing it to Hadassah. She had thoroughly despised her hometown so in her youth, and yet she could seldom deny its plethora of contributions to her continued survival. Even now, it was helping connect her lifeline, even if she could not accept the implied reality just yet. It was her responsibility to live on regardless of how little she wished to, so that she may discover what her son meant by those parting words.

"Let us leave now. We should not keep the wagon waiting." It would not serve either of them to stay any longer than they had to, so Ambika took the lead in getting them both away from this dreadful scene.

Hadassah nodded in understanding as Ambika spoke, her wisdom shining through to calm the storm of Hadassah’s racing thoughts once again. The longer she was around Ambika, the more she was reminded of her own mother who was also a wise and determined woman. She missed her dearly, even if she ultimately made the decision to leave home. It was moments like this, when she felt as if she’d lost yet another piece of herself, that she missed her mother even more. She felt her heart clench with the weight of their experience in the portal and the sudden pain of being so far away from her roots, though she grit her teeth to keep it from showing on her face.
“If there is anything I can do to help, anything at all, please let me know,” Hadassah finally replied. “Thank you for your words of wisdom.” Hadassah recognized that though she could not be with her own mother, she could do her best to aid her wise companion.

Hadassah followed Ambika closely as she lead them away from the portal toward the wagon that would take them back. The boy’s voice was nearly a whisper in her mind now, though she knew that if she allowed it, he would become louder once more. Perhaps in her own time she would allow it for a while if only to process it and truly come to accept it. For now though, she was glad for the silence.

"I appreciate your kindness, but please, do not waste your energy on a blood-drenched old ghost like me." Now on the wagon, Ambika gave Hadassah a reply she knew full well the latter would not accept easily. "You have a long life ahead of you, and so much more to experience." I pray you will never have to endure the sheer depths of my grief, Ambika thought quietly. It was as much a sincere wish to keep Hadassah away from her possibly self-inflicted purgatory, as it was a selfish desire to not have to delve into the theory that she might have-- especially considering the only timeline she could have done that was--

Ambika's brain outright refused to indulge any further thought into the matter, understanding that any more effort spent in that direction would undoubtedly result in its host's death.

Soon, the wagon returned the two to the adventurer's guild they received the quest from, and they were each shuffled into different isolation booths to provide their reports on their exploration. Ambika kept her report short and to-the-point, while also keeping the details vague when it came to the identities of the voices heard as she wasn't about to risk being tried or hunted over the assassinations she committed over 30 years ago. And most importantly, she outright omitted any mention of her son. That was her secret and hers alone, and she was ready to carry it to the grave if she had to.

Her report complete, Ambika sat on one of the side benches around the reception counter so that she may leave a parting goodbye to Hadassah, if nothing else. Perhaps it was her old age showing, or the experience leaving her wanting to clutch onto the thinnest sliver of hope, anything to draw her mind away from her own imagination.

“Any energy I use to help my allies is not a waste. If you need anything at all, please let me know.” Hadassah quickly responded. She had no idea what Ambika had been through in her past or what she was enduring now, but she did know that her companion’s wisdom had brought her back to reality twice now and may have possibly saved her life. If she could neither help nor or return the favor, she at the very least wanted to be around her to soak up her wisdom and learn from her life experience, but she did not want to pry either. “Don’t worry about me, I have plenty of life and energy to spare for now.”

Once they arrived at the adventurer’s guild, Hadassah complied quietly as she was guided to a separate area where she was asked to report her findings. She set down her small notebook, flipping to the page describing her prior investigations. She went into detail, explaining that many of the rumors were true and that the cursed place brought alive those who have died by one’s hand. She excluded the truth of her own experience, stating instead that she’d heard the voice of a bandit she’d killed in defense of another when asked if she heard or saw anything herself. When she concluded her story, the guild member thanked her for her help and reports before dismissing her.

With a heavy sigh, Hadassah went out to reconnect with Ambika, who she found sitting on a bench in the reception area. She approached her with a calm smile on her face. “I’m sure this isn’t goodbye,” she said calmly. “Think about my offer. I have much to learn and I would be honored to travel beside you.”

The prospect of travelling with another has never felt more alluring than it did this instant. Exhaustion had reigned over Ambika, unrelenting and unforgiving.
"I suppose we could, for a time." Ambika looked up at Hadassah's eyes, her own dim and fading. "Come," she rose from her seat, "What do you say to a meal to celebrate our survival today?" and headed towards the exit.

Entering a well-furbished tavern, Ambika made her way to a table at the corner that allowed her to view the comings and goings of the entire tavern as was her habit, and ordered a juicy salmon steak along with a fresh harvest vegetable salad, and a fruit punch sangria to go with it.

As she awaited the arrival of her food, Ambika's lips began unraveling, without care for the world surrounding her. Perhaps she needed someone to hear her story, or she simply needed the words set free.

"I am looking for my son, Kishan. I know not whether he lives, or if he is gone." Perhaps Hadassah had heard his name earlier. Ambika no longer cared. "He left the family 9 years ago and I had not heard from him since. The only one I have left since the rest of my family was murdered in a night raid 2 years ago." She laid out a well-maintained scroll containing a sketch of a narrow-eyed, smiling young man with Elven ears, wearing a bandana with an ornate young pin engraved in a unique manner. "This is him." Ambika relinquished the chains binding her, laying them bare to anyone who would lay witness.