Sarren's Gambit

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Written by: Kyle

“You’ve got a deal,” I said shaking the old and grey hand of the crone, contrasted to my youthful pale skin, “when does it start?”
The crone cackled “It already has my dear boy,” she withdrew her hand and held up four fingers, “Wasted so many so soon, anymore questions Sarren?”
I opened my mouth to talk, but for the first time I stopped myself from saying anything. I shook my head and pointed to the moss-covered door of her hut, then brushed my short white hair back while waiting for an answer.
“Ah, quick learner. Unless you have any other wishes, we have nothing to do with each other until the last word.” She said through an unsettling and ever growing grin, “You may leave.”

Standing up from the worn and deflated cushion, in the process I came to face a pair of blue feminine hands floating in a small cage, past them on a shelf a jar of liquid holding a pair or Elven ears, not unlike to my own. Staring at the collection of body parts and trinkets for a moment, wondering how many people have passed through the small hut and how many of those got their wishes or fell to the crone’s hold. I took a deep musky breath before turning to head out.

The jungle was a maze, the thick humid air weighing me down. After an hour trudging through the dense plants, the direction didn’t matter in the moment, I came upon a large enough flat stone in the ground; I cleared a five foot space of leaves and mud, then set started drawing the teleportation circle for my home with the chalks and diagrams I brought with me. I got to the last stage before I remembered the last component. A recital of three words. It’s only three words, or a two-month journey home, not counting the time it would take to find my way out of the jungle. Is it worth it?

Dumping the contents of my backpack onto the stone, I gathered a small vial of ink, my quill and notebook. Opening to the last page I wrote the title ‘Words spoken’ as I thought of each word I said after making the deal, I made a mark.
When, first mark.
Does, second mark.
It, third mark.
Start, forth mark.

‘So many so soon’ How many do I have left? The foul crone never said. Shoving all my supplies back into my bag, I quickly set out back to the crone’s hut. Thankfully, I had incidentally left a clear trail back, before entering again I took out my book again writing in it, ‘How many do I have left?’. The door creaked as I entered the rotting hut, holding my book open. The crone stood with her back to me, arranging jars and vials on a shelf.

“Now, now, that would spoil the fun. Don’t you think?” her cackle already grating my ears once again.
“Listen you horrid hag, I didn’t come to play games!” I shouted before realising what I had done. The crone already laughing manically before I even finished. Quickly flipping to the back, I thought for a moment and made ten marks. Fourteen already.

After the crone stopped laughing, she finally turned to face me. “You should be more careful boy, or we’ll be seeing each other much sooner than you would like.”
I leant against the wall, it creaked letting out trapped dust. Staring at the crone as I took deep breaths to calm myself. Knowing that she knew what I wanted.

She turned back to the shelf, still giggling to herself. “How about another deal?” she enquired. “No tricks, you apologise and ask me nicely and I’ll answer your question.” I started writing but before I got a few words in, she spoke up once more, “You know that won’t do”. Sighing, I put the book and quill away.

We stood in silence for what felt like hours. The crone plodded around the hut, fruitlessly cleaning and arranging to no end. While I debated with myself, trying to find the shortest amount of words to please her deal. What if it wasn’t enough? What if I go over the limit? What if she answers vaguely, or she lies? No matter the option, she only wants me to speak. I decided she won’t hear my voice again.

Leaning back off the wall, I tugged at my shirt, freeing it from the sweaty grip of my back. Leaving without a word or acknowledgement to the crone, I set out on the lengthy journey home.

“Damn it!” I let out in frustration, throwing papers across the room. I held out my hand.
“Perhaps we should take a break for the day?” Said Agrebeus his elderly hands, placing my new notebook in my open hand. I opened to the front page, solely for keeping track of words and writing to people.

43. The work was getting to me, but without it my gift from the crone would be wasted. I turned to face Agrebeus, an Elf like me but much older. I nod in agreement and packed away my belongings.

After returning from the crone in the jungles, I had discovered I could learn and create spells much faster and with ease compared to expert mages. I ran into trouble with many spells requiring vocal components to them. I sought the greatest sages I could.

Eventually I found Agrebeus, Spell Changer. Helping each other with research over the course of a century. He helped me with creating a way to cast spells without vocal components, at the time taking a much greater material cost and long amounts of time to convert a spell. We were close but are reaching both of our limits of knowledge and limits of nature itself.

The following day was a very special one, in my pursuit to find how many words I had left I had found Oghma the Wise God. Working with Etior, one of the highest ranking priests,  I had gained favour with the Wise God and Etior. Performing the ritual to open a telepathic link with Oghma I recited, “Oghma, hear my plea”

47. The link was successful, but before I could try sending a message, I saw an ancient scroll appear before me. 

‘Do not speak, I know what you seek.’ The scroll wound itself to show ‘Thanks to your pursuit and spread of knowledge you have given hope and skill to those you’ve aided and they’ve done the same after meeting you. For this I will grant the answer to your question.’

Seeing the scroll wind again, I took a deep breath in. ‘There is a limit of 100 spoken or telepathic words on your contract with the crone.’ I bowed my head in acknowledgement and thanks. Lifting my head again, the scroll had gone. I then tore out my notebook amongst the fragrances and candles used to establish the connection, opened to the front and made four marks, and then added a 100 at the bottom, underlining it twice.

“That’s not good, 47 words out of a 100.” Agrebeus said, pondering further “47 words in 150 years?”
I held up my open book to the Spell Changer, ‘183’.
“My, where did the time go?” he replied. Quickly followed by my gesturing around the sizeable house. Bought just as a place to study as both of our homes were already full with books and papers. Now that I had the answer to the question I had from the start, it invigorated the two of us to further our research.

I have never stopped researching, even after developing a stable method and formula for converting spells. Rather than staying inside forever converting spells, I continued to spread knowledge through Covania. My skills and abilities were greatly sought after, I had joined Blinding Spear, a powerful group created to protect the Kingdom of Covania.

“I agree.” 53. My new Commander Zyllis needed assurance I was ready and willing to defend the Kingdom along his side.

During my travels I frequently passed through Ferrabreeze, on the way to and from my home in Sunwood. Often I would help teach those who wanted attending schools and academies. In one of my visits I had met Aradoris, a purple Tiefling who had lost a majority of her hearing because of malformed horns when she was young.

We got to know each other quickly whenever we were together we rapidly passed each other notes. When I wasn’t in Ferrabreeze, we would send each other countless letters. After a year we became the silent couple, the man without a voice and the woman without ears.

Over the next year and a half, I put a hold on all my travels and study. I found and developed all I could to heal Aradoris’ hearing. In my haste to restore her hearing, I decided on some spells I had not converted yet. Looking into alternatives with fewer words, I ended up needing to use 5 words. The procedure took a few hours to complete, but once I knew it had worked, I got down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?” I asked, as tears formed in both of our eyes. 66.
“Ye.. yes I will.” Aradoris mumbled softly, struggling with her voice.

I’ll never regret those nine words, the first I had spoke in a decade and the first she had heard in nearly three times as many. We moved to Sunwood and married shortly after on the first dawn of the new year.

“I do.” 68. Our wedding day, no regrets, but I’m on the wrong side of fifty.
“I love you.” 71. Our first anniversary, Aradoris grew worried and told me not to waste words, they weren’t a waste to me.

Just two years later, war had broken out between the Kingdom of Covania and the Crown of Oxtrad. The Blinding Spear called on me to protect Covania against Oxtrad, the war waged on for six years before the unpredicable happened.

The gates to the nine hells opened, spilling forth countless demons and devils, quickly joining sides with Oxtrad against the invading demonic forces took a fifteen year long war. They placed Blinding Spear on the frontline, becoming a beacon of hope in the grim devastation. We closed the rifts to the nine hells, but that wasn’t the end.

Tasked with cleaning up straggling demons, we travelled the scorched lands, killing off any remaining. We received reports that the shapeshifters took the form of Dragonborn and Tieflings in nearby towns, following orders we cleared entire communities without hesitation.

As soon as we learnt, they were false orders and realising what I; We had done, I teleported to my study and tried to write something, anything, but after sometime I only had a crumpled blank page soaked in tears. Returning to the members of Blinding Spear, Zyllis, our leader addressed us.

“I am your leader, and as your leader these are my final orders.” Zyllis spoke with a heavy heart. “You will leave, run, never speak of this to anyone ever again. Blinding Spear is no more.”

“I agree.” I said wiping my face, 73. The first words a majority of the group had heard me ever say, and likely the last. From there I don’t know what happened to them, I returned home, wishing to forget it all.

Aradoris, she was furious. I know she was concerned for me, 100 drawing ever closer. I should have seen it coming. The newly formed conglomerate wanted to point fingers and assign blame for the war and damages. They chose the Tieflings, Dragonborn, Changelings, and Aasimar.

Before I knew what was happening war mages were knocking down my door early in the night, but as soon as they did I knew why. Rushing to Aradoris, I grabbed her and teleported away before they could confirm my suspicions.

We arrived in the middle of my parent’s dining room where I could see my father, Folluin, in the kitchen where a knight had a sword pointed at him.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, 74. I knew I should be better than to waste like that, but I had a larger threat than a crone, the Kingdom.

“GO!” Shouted Folluin. I tried teleporting again, but it failed, I spun around to see a war mage finishing a counter. Still holding Aradoris’ hand, I ran for the door, but another knight blocked the way.

Turning around again, I let out a bolt of magic shattering a tall window and jumped through it, both Aradoris and I getting cut by the broken glass on the way through. Once on the street, we saw a small group of mages running towards us, preparing spells. Flashes of fire let out from the group as I conjured an arcane shield, blocking the rain of fire.

Grabbing my wife’s shoulder, I tried teleporting us away, but another mage stopped the spell from completing. I looked into the eyes of Aradoris, glancing at glass cuts covering her arms and legs. I’ll never forget the fearful look in her eyes that night, as the smell of sulfur filled the air.

Picking her up to her feet, we ran. The mages threw everything they had in a chaotic and destructive chase through the city. For every lash of fire or shard of ice they had, I had counter or deflection. I missed one. A bolt of lighting, striking Aradoris’ back, causing her to fall to the cold flagstones of the street.

“Hold on.” I said, 76. Dropping next to her as the mages closed in. Burnt flesh already filling the air. I saw tears swelling in her eyes. Using my thumb, I brushed one away and flicked it toward the mages, using it to form an enormous wall of water between us and the group.

I saw another mage coming from a nearby alley, as the cold sea water swirled, maintaining the wall. I created an arrow made of ice from the water wall and fired it at the mage, distracting him just long enough to teleport away.

It worked, we were at the oasis, a secluded hideaway I found in my travels many years ago. I cradled Aradoris in my arms as I walked into the fresh and cool water of the oasis.

“Thank you.” She strained to speak, but the relief from the water was clear.
“I'm sorry.” 78. The wounds too deep and harsh for me to heal, not a single day goes by where I don't regret not pursuing greater healing methods, I had only learnt what I needed to heal her hearing. “I love you.” 81.

She tried speaking again but couldn’t; she raised her finger to her lips.
“I don’t care.” as I spoke, she moved her finger to my lips. 84. I was ready to talk to her until the very end. Reluctantly I held my voice and just held her in my arms, I didn't move until the sun rose.

I don't know when she passed, but her last moments were in silence, staring up at me and the clear night sky, while lying in my arms as I brushed her hair.

The next decade after my wife’s death was the hardest, constantly on the run with no time to mourn. A week after escaping I found out the Kingdom imprisoned my parents, their location and details of the prison kept reaching me with no effort. I never saved them, sensing a trap with the readiness of information. After six years on the run, I learnt they were hung a year ago; the Kingdom charged them with harbouring and assisting outlawed, along with purposeful obstruction of justice.

After two decades, I secured the remains of my parents through a few contacts that I had formed while on the run from the Kingdom; they had mostly given up chasing me. More important and pressing issues plagued their minds. It was the first time in twenty years I had no pressure, no fear, no one actively tracking me.

I was travelling toward Reton, passing through the Cunning Expanse, a web of great mesas that dropped into deep red canyons. With the scorching morning sun burning my back, it was then I broke down, dropping to my knees. The clattering of three ceramic urns in my pack echoed in my ears.

“Why?” a sobbing whisper left my mouth, 85. The first words since the fateful night. I turned my head southward, toward the jungle beyond the horizon where the crone lives, a few weeks’ journey away. No. Facing back to the west, Reton was much closer, still several days but a fresh start, a new goal.

With no contacts or known locations in Reton, I had to travel by foot. Once I was there, I ended up in the Mulburg Marsh where I slowly gained the trust of Duke Miguel Rollo and became his court wizard. Since then I’ve been working in secret, at first on methods of tracking teleportation spells, to find where someone had gone or come from.

I have since moved into and cleaned up an island near Sestone, cleared out by a group of mercenaries who were closing rifts and portals. My previous study in Mulburg Castle wasn’t large enough for my collection and requirements as I’ve started to study the possibility of manipulating time itself.