as written by Script, Tiko and Sentry
Elante's footsteps echoed through the silence of the winding stairwell as he descended towards the well. The enchanted braziers that lined the walls lit up as he passed them, casting the glistening stone walls in an orange glow that flickered and danced with the flames. The young mage's head was bowed with fatigue that was made all the more obvious by the dark rings beneath his eyes. Sleep had been elusive of late.
If it wasn't enough that the Vanguard was leaderless, leaving him as one of the few senior members still around to coordinate them, Aeryn had gone missing over two weeks ago. There was still no sign of him. He and the other mages he could contact had attempted every scrying spell in their arsenal to no avail. Wherever he was, he was beyond their sight.
Though Elante maintained an outwardly optimistic facade, he could not deny to himself - nor to the more perceptive members of the order - that the pressure was getting to him. He wanted to devote his every waking moment to the search, but with the others looking to him for instruction, he couldn't afford to. Even if he hadn't been distracted - he was barely twenty-three! How was he supposed to even temporarily lead an order that was thousands of years old?
He couldn't do it. Not for much longer. Something was going to give, and the way things were going, it was probably going to be him. And so he had resorted to this. Within the Well of Souls resided the spirits of the Vanguard's fallen. Heroes from across time. And in times of dire need, they could be called upon for guidance.
Elante wasn't honestly sure if this qualified as dire need. But he knew that he needed guidance. Without it, both he and the Order were going to fall apart.
He could tell he was close to the base of the stairs when the light of the torches dwindled to be replaced by the calming glow of the pool's water. The chamber of the well itself wasn't large - perhaps thirty feet in diameter - and contained naught but the pool and a narrow ring of ground around it.
He hesitated at the threshold, watching the perfectly calm surface shimmering in its own light. Disturbing the resting souls was not something to be undertaken lightly. Was this right? Was this needed?
Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards. Yes, it was. With nobody else around to consult, he had to make that call himself. Slowly, he approached the water's edge and knelt. He slipped one of his gloves off and into his pocket, then held his hand out over the well, lowering it until his fingertips brushed the surface. A single ripple emerged out from the point of contact, spreading across the entirety of the pool and rebounding off of its edges.
"Please," he whispered. "Sylvire. Anyone who's listening. I need help. We need help. We have no leader, our numbers are too few, and the world is falling apart at the seams around us." As he spoke, tears began to form in his eyes, though he did his best to fight them back. "I can't be what the Vanguard needs from me. Not yet. I've tried, really, but I- I just can't. So please. If anyone's there... tell me what to do?"
The ripples in the pool caused its glow to ripple across the chamber's walls in a similar fashion, creating a mystical dance of light and shadow. For a long moment, it seemed as though no response was forthcoming.
But then, a voice whispered from the light.
"I am here, Elante."
Looking up as he felt a hand touch his own, Elante's eyes lit up with relief and joy as he recognised the figure beginning to coalesce above the pool. Though her form was translucent and wispy in places, there was no mistaking her identity.
It was Sylvire.
The elven sorceress took his hand in her own and smiled down at him. With her other hand, she brushed a tear from his cheek.
"Do not weep," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "For you have done more than most in your position would have been capable of. You are not weak to seek guidance, but wise. Many would have clung too firmly to their pride to admit that they could not give what was needed of them."
Laughing tearfully, Elante brought his free hand up to wipe at his eyes. "You have no idea how good it is to see you again, Sylvire. It feels like we've been stumbling blind ever since you left. We were managing, but then Rhea left too, and ... well, you heard. Everything's falling apart."
"To lead an order such as the Vanguard would be a daunting task for even an experienced commander. To rebuild it from the ground up is a task of generations. But you needn't fear," Sylvire straightened, gently pulling Elante to his feet. "You have more than just my own guidance to call upon. The wisdom of all the Vanguard past is at your disposal; you need only ask."
At her back more translucent forms began to take form above the shimmering waters. One two, three... their numbers continued to increase until they blurred together with various faces and forms fading in and out of visibility. Some were more familiar than others, but Champions of old, each and every one of them.
One such form was gaunt and leathery. He stood out among many, inhuman and giant, willowy and nightmarish. His limbs were knobby and were stretched too long, so as to seem spiderlike. The skin on his face was pulled so tightly over his skull that his teeth imprinted upon his lips. His grin was worn on the outside, from ear to ear.
The man was swathed in various leathers and armor. In one bony hand, he held a staff as tall as he, encircled with shrunken heads frozen in various expressions. He was a sight.
At the giant's side stood a slight girl, so short as to be almost comical by comparison. She was adorned across her body with leaves and other foliage, including in the place of her hair. She herself wore a beaming, cheerful smile, and she waved excitedly to Elante from where she stood beside her more stoic comrades. "Elante! Hello! Gosh, it's been a while, hasn't it? You look very different. Well, you're definitely taller, at least." Kirae grinned. "But Lady Sylvire is right! You've done very well. I could never organise an order. I can barely organise myself!"
Another voice chuckled from the depths of the water - this one male - as another translucent face faded in and out of view. It was a face that had perhaps haunted the young mage through the years.
"Wisdom she says. As I recall it, it was my own stubborn pride that once forced you to raise your hand against me," Brent said. "All the same we're behind you. Even those of us who can't claim wisdom as our strength," he added with a wink.
Others too churned through the masses, the faces of the fallen. Many simply watched on, stoic in their presence. Among them were the last of Sylvire's era. Aurion, Arran, Gawyn, Shaiel, Kaelan, Luriel, Mirana, Oron, Peregrin, Selwyn, and Merethyl. All were present. All had answered Elante's call.
The young mage's eyes widened at the array of faces - both familiar and otherwise - that appeared before him. For a moment, he was stunned to silence. Then, he smiled, a warmth filling his heart that his old allies, and so many others, had come to lend their support. "Thank you," he whispered, then again, louder. "Thank you. For so many of you to answer... I'm truly honoured. I have nobody else to turn to. I'm not ready to lead us, but in truth, I don't know who is. Arrow has his Knights, Scarlet can't abandon Celestia... I don't know what to do."
Sylvire smiled to him, nodding her head in understanding. "There will come a day when you, or another, are ready to take up the mantle of leading the Vanguard. Neither you nor I can say when that day will come, but one thing is without doubt. The world cannot wait until then; it needs us now. The land is gripped by turmoil and chaos, and dark powers lurk in the shadows to take advantage of it. The Void grows stronger."
The giant lifted his head and drew to his full height. "Do not be discouraged, Mister Elante. Your determination to move forward shall inspire future allies. To lose hope is to fall into despair."
"And you are not alone," the voice that joined them next was that of Aurion. The celestial stepped forwards from the midst of his allies, his wings radiant even insubstantial as they were. "You have allies in us all, even in death. Those you have gathered have the potential to make the Vanguard as great as it has ever been, with the right guidance. And so guidance you shall have."
He spread his arms, gesturing at the assembed spirits. "The Well of Souls is a powerful thing. In the Vanguard's time of need, when the order is threatened, we will answer the call and come to your aid. Such is the case now. Though the enemy are not at your doorstep, the order is threatened nonetheless. You have lost your way, though it is through no fault of your own. We will help you find it once more."
Sylvire nodded her head. "Until such a time as one of the living is up to the task, we will lend you our wisdom. Circumstances have changed since I felt my duty done. I see now that there is more yet for me to do." She held out her hand to him. "You have need, and I shall provide."
Staring up at her with wide eyes, Elante was speechless for several long moments. "I..." he eventually managed, "I can't ask for you to-"
"It is not asking, to accept what is freely given." Sylvire smiled. "I am called once more to stand by your side. Will you have me?"
Another long pause. Elante stared at Sylvire's extended hand with disbelieving eyes. When he had begun his descent to the well, he would never have anticipated this outcome. "I..." he looked up to meet her eyes, and saw no doubt in them. "I will."
He reached out and took her hand. As the two made contact, light burst from where they touched, filling the chamber. Elante gasped, bringing his free arm up to shield his eyes from the blinding flash, even as a rush of wind sent his coat billowing out behind him. Slowly, the faintness of Sylvire's touch became more substantial. With the fading of the light, he turned back to see her - as solid as she had been in life - hovering just above the water with her eyes closed.
With a gasp, she opened them, and dropped. Elante rushed forwards to support her as she landed in the shallow water with a splash, stumbling forwards into him. "Sylvire! Are you-"
"I am well, Elante." She took a deep breath, straightening and releasing his grip. He stepped back to allow her to step from the water. "To become so suddenly corporeal... I am merely a little disoriented."
Behind her, the other spirits were fading away, though they did not all seem to be retreating into the well as was normal. Perhaps Sylvire was not the only one to diverge from the whole?
"What happened? You're... you're here. As in, actually here. In the flesh." Elante shook his head in disbelief. "How? I didn't think even the Well could..."
"I may have physical form, but I am not quite reborn." Sylvire raised her hand, examining it in the light of the pool as though it were unfamiliar. "I am still a spirit, bound to this place. But the power of the well has granted me a degree of independence. The others, too - though perhaps not as much."
"Still, this is amazing!" Elante's shock finally gave way to a beaming smile. "No matter the limitations, you're ... here. You've been missed, Sylvire. Sorely. It's good to have you back, in whatever capacity it is."
"It is good to be back, Elante. Now, come. We have much to discuss, and there are doubtless better environs in which to do so than here."
Elante's footsteps echoed through the silence of the winding stairwell as he descended towards the well. The enchanted braziers that lined the walls lit up as he passed them, casting the glistening stone walls in an orange glow that flickered and danced with the flames. The young mage's head was bowed with fatigue that was made all the more obvious by the dark rings beneath his eyes. Sleep had been elusive of late.
If it wasn't enough that the Vanguard was leaderless, leaving him as one of the few senior members still around to coordinate them, Aeryn had gone missing over two weeks ago. There was still no sign of him. He and the other mages he could contact had attempted every scrying spell in their arsenal to no avail. Wherever he was, he was beyond their sight.
Though Elante maintained an outwardly optimistic facade, he could not deny to himself - nor to the more perceptive members of the order - that the pressure was getting to him. He wanted to devote his every waking moment to the search, but with the others looking to him for instruction, he couldn't afford to. Even if he hadn't been distracted - he was barely twenty-three! How was he supposed to even temporarily lead an order that was thousands of years old?
He couldn't do it. Not for much longer. Something was going to give, and the way things were going, it was probably going to be him. And so he had resorted to this. Within the Well of Souls resided the spirits of the Vanguard's fallen. Heroes from across time. And in times of dire need, they could be called upon for guidance.
Elante wasn't honestly sure if this qualified as dire need. But he knew that he needed guidance. Without it, both he and the Order were going to fall apart.
He could tell he was close to the base of the stairs when the light of the torches dwindled to be replaced by the calming glow of the pool's water. The chamber of the well itself wasn't large - perhaps thirty feet in diameter - and contained naught but the pool and a narrow ring of ground around it.
He hesitated at the threshold, watching the perfectly calm surface shimmering in its own light. Disturbing the resting souls was not something to be undertaken lightly. Was this right? Was this needed?
Taking a deep breath, he stepped forwards. Yes, it was. With nobody else around to consult, he had to make that call himself. Slowly, he approached the water's edge and knelt. He slipped one of his gloves off and into his pocket, then held his hand out over the well, lowering it until his fingertips brushed the surface. A single ripple emerged out from the point of contact, spreading across the entirety of the pool and rebounding off of its edges.
"Please," he whispered. "Sylvire. Anyone who's listening. I need help. We need help. We have no leader, our numbers are too few, and the world is falling apart at the seams around us." As he spoke, tears began to form in his eyes, though he did his best to fight them back. "I can't be what the Vanguard needs from me. Not yet. I've tried, really, but I- I just can't. So please. If anyone's there... tell me what to do?"
The ripples in the pool caused its glow to ripple across the chamber's walls in a similar fashion, creating a mystical dance of light and shadow. For a long moment, it seemed as though no response was forthcoming.
But then, a voice whispered from the light.
"I am here, Elante."
Looking up as he felt a hand touch his own, Elante's eyes lit up with relief and joy as he recognised the figure beginning to coalesce above the pool. Though her form was translucent and wispy in places, there was no mistaking her identity.
It was Sylvire.
The elven sorceress took his hand in her own and smiled down at him. With her other hand, she brushed a tear from his cheek.
"Do not weep," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "For you have done more than most in your position would have been capable of. You are not weak to seek guidance, but wise. Many would have clung too firmly to their pride to admit that they could not give what was needed of them."
Laughing tearfully, Elante brought his free hand up to wipe at his eyes. "You have no idea how good it is to see you again, Sylvire. It feels like we've been stumbling blind ever since you left. We were managing, but then Rhea left too, and ... well, you heard. Everything's falling apart."
"To lead an order such as the Vanguard would be a daunting task for even an experienced commander. To rebuild it from the ground up is a task of generations. But you needn't fear," Sylvire straightened, gently pulling Elante to his feet. "You have more than just my own guidance to call upon. The wisdom of all the Vanguard past is at your disposal; you need only ask."
At her back more translucent forms began to take form above the shimmering waters. One two, three... their numbers continued to increase until they blurred together with various faces and forms fading in and out of visibility. Some were more familiar than others, but Champions of old, each and every one of them.
One such form was gaunt and leathery. He stood out among many, inhuman and giant, willowy and nightmarish. His limbs were knobby and were stretched too long, so as to seem spiderlike. The skin on his face was pulled so tightly over his skull that his teeth imprinted upon his lips. His grin was worn on the outside, from ear to ear.
The man was swathed in various leathers and armor. In one bony hand, he held a staff as tall as he, encircled with shrunken heads frozen in various expressions. He was a sight.
At the giant's side stood a slight girl, so short as to be almost comical by comparison. She was adorned across her body with leaves and other foliage, including in the place of her hair. She herself wore a beaming, cheerful smile, and she waved excitedly to Elante from where she stood beside her more stoic comrades. "Elante! Hello! Gosh, it's been a while, hasn't it? You look very different. Well, you're definitely taller, at least." Kirae grinned. "But Lady Sylvire is right! You've done very well. I could never organise an order. I can barely organise myself!"
Another voice chuckled from the depths of the water - this one male - as another translucent face faded in and out of view. It was a face that had perhaps haunted the young mage through the years.
"Wisdom she says. As I recall it, it was my own stubborn pride that once forced you to raise your hand against me," Brent said. "All the same we're behind you. Even those of us who can't claim wisdom as our strength," he added with a wink.
Others too churned through the masses, the faces of the fallen. Many simply watched on, stoic in their presence. Among them were the last of Sylvire's era. Aurion, Arran, Gawyn, Shaiel, Kaelan, Luriel, Mirana, Oron, Peregrin, Selwyn, and Merethyl. All were present. All had answered Elante's call.
The young mage's eyes widened at the array of faces - both familiar and otherwise - that appeared before him. For a moment, he was stunned to silence. Then, he smiled, a warmth filling his heart that his old allies, and so many others, had come to lend their support. "Thank you," he whispered, then again, louder. "Thank you. For so many of you to answer... I'm truly honoured. I have nobody else to turn to. I'm not ready to lead us, but in truth, I don't know who is. Arrow has his Knights, Scarlet can't abandon Celestia... I don't know what to do."
Sylvire smiled to him, nodding her head in understanding. "There will come a day when you, or another, are ready to take up the mantle of leading the Vanguard. Neither you nor I can say when that day will come, but one thing is without doubt. The world cannot wait until then; it needs us now. The land is gripped by turmoil and chaos, and dark powers lurk in the shadows to take advantage of it. The Void grows stronger."
The giant lifted his head and drew to his full height. "Do not be discouraged, Mister Elante. Your determination to move forward shall inspire future allies. To lose hope is to fall into despair."
"And you are not alone," the voice that joined them next was that of Aurion. The celestial stepped forwards from the midst of his allies, his wings radiant even insubstantial as they were. "You have allies in us all, even in death. Those you have gathered have the potential to make the Vanguard as great as it has ever been, with the right guidance. And so guidance you shall have."
He spread his arms, gesturing at the assembed spirits. "The Well of Souls is a powerful thing. In the Vanguard's time of need, when the order is threatened, we will answer the call and come to your aid. Such is the case now. Though the enemy are not at your doorstep, the order is threatened nonetheless. You have lost your way, though it is through no fault of your own. We will help you find it once more."
Sylvire nodded her head. "Until such a time as one of the living is up to the task, we will lend you our wisdom. Circumstances have changed since I felt my duty done. I see now that there is more yet for me to do." She held out her hand to him. "You have need, and I shall provide."
Staring up at her with wide eyes, Elante was speechless for several long moments. "I..." he eventually managed, "I can't ask for you to-"
"It is not asking, to accept what is freely given." Sylvire smiled. "I am called once more to stand by your side. Will you have me?"
Another long pause. Elante stared at Sylvire's extended hand with disbelieving eyes. When he had begun his descent to the well, he would never have anticipated this outcome. "I..." he looked up to meet her eyes, and saw no doubt in them. "I will."
He reached out and took her hand. As the two made contact, light burst from where they touched, filling the chamber. Elante gasped, bringing his free arm up to shield his eyes from the blinding flash, even as a rush of wind sent his coat billowing out behind him. Slowly, the faintness of Sylvire's touch became more substantial. With the fading of the light, he turned back to see her - as solid as she had been in life - hovering just above the water with her eyes closed.
With a gasp, she opened them, and dropped. Elante rushed forwards to support her as she landed in the shallow water with a splash, stumbling forwards into him. "Sylvire! Are you-"
"I am well, Elante." She took a deep breath, straightening and releasing his grip. He stepped back to allow her to step from the water. "To become so suddenly corporeal... I am merely a little disoriented."
Behind her, the other spirits were fading away, though they did not all seem to be retreating into the well as was normal. Perhaps Sylvire was not the only one to diverge from the whole?
"What happened? You're... you're here. As in, actually here. In the flesh." Elante shook his head in disbelief. "How? I didn't think even the Well could..."
"I may have physical form, but I am not quite reborn." Sylvire raised her hand, examining it in the light of the pool as though it were unfamiliar. "I am still a spirit, bound to this place. But the power of the well has granted me a degree of independence. The others, too - though perhaps not as much."
"Still, this is amazing!" Elante's shock finally gave way to a beaming smile. "No matter the limitations, you're ... here. You've been missed, Sylvire. Sorely. It's good to have you back, in whatever capacity it is."
"It is good to be back, Elante. Now, come. We have much to discuss, and there are doubtless better environs in which to do so than here."