Chapter B3C63 - Debt Upon Debt

Chapter B3C63 - Debt Upon Debt

Elsbeth couldnt help but feel anxious as the old man hobbled across the street toward her. Truth be told, old didnt nearly capture the sheer weight of time that seemed to hang on those reed-thin shoulders. Stooped over, limbs visibly trembling and skin as weathered as a salt-washed rock, the Venerable supported his weight on a walking stick of dark brown wood as he slowly made his way toward her.

Would it be disrespectful of her to go and help him? He looked so fragile! There was a burly-looking man by his side, watching the crowd, eyes flicking from one person to the next, but he made no move to support the ancient human. Ultimately, her instincts overwhelmed the debate in her head and she rushed forward to support him, holding onto his elbow and walking alongside.

I apologise if Im being rude, she said, I mean no disrespect.Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

The old man chuckled as he let her take some of his weight.

I left my useless pride behind over a hundred years ago, he said, wrinkled skin folding in on itself as he smiled wide, revealing the few teeth he retained. A little help on the walk wont do me any harm.

Somewhat relieved, Elsbeth returned the smile as she fell into step, slowly making their way through Shadetown.

Thank you for coming on such short notice. I hope the journey wasnt too difficult for you.

The Venerable flapped his free hand vaguely as if to wave away her concerns.

Bah! Im not as old as that he trailed off. On reflection, I probably am as old as that, he admitted, but I was planning to move anyway. This was a necessary stop on the journey. Helping a fool child out of the mess he put himself in shouldnt be too taxing.

She wished she shared his confidence.

From the market, they moved down one of the alleys until they stood before Almsfield Enchantments. This late in the afternoon, there werent many people about, most of the days commerce having been done. Still, there were a few inside, visible through the large windows, browsing the many wares Tyron had on offer.

She felt a spike of pride at how well her friend had done. Despite not even being his focus, Tyron had turned his enchanting business into a real success, earning praise from almost everyone she spoke to in the community. With an effort, she forced that appreciation down. She was still furious at him! Just bringing to mind the letter hed send her was enough to make her grind her teeth.

Greetings Elsbeth,

Ill be travelling to visit the Scarlet Court within their domain. Id appreciate it if you could contact the Venerable, or perhaps another high-ranking cleric amongst your organisation to undo whatever suggestions they plant in my head.

Regards.

Not even signed with a name, not that he had to, who else would be mad enough to do such a thing? Doing it knowing what was going to happen to him, no less!

Even now, part of her wanted to let him stew in his own juices. This was his mess after all, but it was a petty impulse that she knew she would never indulge.

Do you need help with the steps, Venerable? she asked, leaning down toward the old man.

If youd be so kind, he replied, eyes crinkling.

Dressed in a light cloak, shirt and pants, there hardly seemed to be anything of the man left, they hung so loosely on him. Shaking step by shaking step, the Venerable managed to mount the three stairs with some difficulty before he released a triumphant sigh at the top. Elsbeth let go of his arm just long enough to swing open the door and let him through, for which she received a grateful nod.

Seemingly without communicating, the burly, leather-armoured guard took up post outside the door, standing in a spot where he could watch the traffic and keep an eye on the store interior at the same time.

Once inside, Tyrons bubbly young store attendant approached, professional smile on her face and curiosity burning in her eyes. From the corner of the room, a martial figure began to stride forward. This was Wansa, Elsbeth recalled, but before the formidable woman had taken two steps, she froze mid-stride and remained there, eyes wide, a rictus snarl on her face. Confused, Elsbeth looked down to the Venerable, only to see the old man smiling gently with his eyes shut. A moment later, Cerry had reached them.

Ms Elsbeth, its nice to see you again. Is this your grandfather? Or great-grandfather? Or.

Was she really going to go to great-great?!

Lovely to see you as well, Cerry, she interrupted before the young woman offended the ancient priest. Were here to see Master Lukas. Hes expecting us.

Cerry took it all in stride, shaking her head slightly.

Im sorry, but Master Almsfield has specifically requested not to be disturbed today. I believe hes working upstairs in the workshop, but goodness knows on what, poor Flynn hasnt seen him in days.

Which would mean hed been isolating himself since he returned from his visit.

As I said, hes expecting us, Elsbeth began to say, only for the Venerable to speak over her.

Help me up the stairs, young lady, he said to Cerry, but every quality of his voice had changed.

Gone was the thin, quavering tone, replaced by something deep and powerful. Cerrys smile didnt waver an inch as she smoothly stepped forward to take Elsbeths place on his elbow.

And how long have you been working here? the Venerable asked, every inch the doddering old man once more.

Soon he and Cerry were engaged in conversation as she helped him to the second floor as if he were her own grandfather. Confused, and a little disturbed, Elsbeth trailed along in their wake, ascending only to find the door locked before them.

Yes Master Almsfield did say he didnt want to be disturbed, Cerry muttered to herself, confused.

The old man wheezed lightly as he nudged the Necromancers foot with his own.

The boy has been fighting, trying to defeat something so much greater than himself. I dont know how he fortified his mind, or to what lengths he went to achieve that protection, but it seems like he went to great lengths. Great lengths indeed.

He sighed.

Theres a storm in his head. Painful one at that. All he could do was isolate himself up here and try to weather it the best he could. In the end, he would win and the intrusive measures would be defeated

The Venerables tone left her in no doubt he found that outcome unlikely.

... Or he would lose and whatever they did to him would take hold. Or the fight would continue beyond his bodys ability to sustain it, and he would die.

Elsbeth looked down on him, stricken. Shed arranged him as best she could, lying flat on his back with his hands folded over his chest. Even so, he didnt appear at peace. His eyelids fluttered, as if his eyes were still rolling behind them, and his hands twitched, trying to clasp onto something invisible before they fell to rest again.

Are you able to help?

Instead of answering, the old man simply bowed his head and clasped his hands together once more. For several long moments he stood in that position, consulting with faraway gods, yet Elsbeth sensed nothing of their conversation. Finally, he opened his eyes, a trace of confusion on his face.

A lot of effort for one boy, he muttered, prodding at Tyrons leg with his cane. I cant possibly see how he could be worth it.

He saw the expression on Elsbeths face and hastened to reassure her.

Ill help him child, dont worry. The gods favour him yet, though they wont reveal to me why. There is some grand design at work, or perhaps they are simply being whimsical. I need to stand at his head, can you help me step over him? Thank you, girl. Now just let me catch my breath a moment. Im not quite the same vessel as I used to be, so this will be unpleasant.

Grimacing, the Venerable straightened himself as best he could and spread his arms wide, raising his face to look upwards, though there was nothing but a wooden ceiling over his head. For a time, nothing happened, and Elsbeth was about to ask what he was doing, but then, she felt it. Whisper quiet, a thin tendril of divinity extended from somewhere else and connected to the Venerable.

In that moment, the old man ceased to be, his presence erased, and in his place stood a woman, wizened beyond conception, her face both wise and cruel. Confronted with a god, Elsbeth felt her heart still in her chest and breath freeze in her lungs. For a second, their eyes met, and the Crone winked at her, before she closed her eyes and the Venerable returned, now infused with a sliver of the goddess divine power.

The old man groaned in pain, almost falling to the side, but managed to catch himself at the last second. With shaking limbs, he lifted his cane and placed it on Tyrons forehead. Something surged between them, and though she couldnt see it, Elsbeth was still cognizant of the invisible struggle taking place within the mind of her childhood friend.

It went on for what felt like hours, days. Each second that passed, the Venerable grew visibly more weary. His trembling increased as his face grew more and more haggard, until finally, he fell forward with a cry, breaking the connection and landing directly on top of the prone Necromancer.

Elsbeth rushed to assist him, helping him sit, his back propped against the wall as the impossibly ancient man drew deep, shuddering breaths.

Im at least two hundred years too old for this, the old man wheezed, glaring up at the ceiling. You still want to test me?

A few more long, slow inhalations.

They always want to test us, he murmured to Elsbeth. Its how they think. Im like a toy to them, I believe.

He tapped himself on the chest.

Because Ive never been found wanting.

He grinned, exposing his gums, and Elsbeth couldnt help but admire the man, however, she had more pressing concerns.

About Tyron is he?

The Venerable harrumphed, but there was no energy behind it, only weary resignation.

What they did to him ran deep. Very deep. Powerful and subtle beyond anything Ive ever seen.

He saw Elsbeths look and shook his head.

I think its pretty much gone. Anything left, the boy will have to deal with on his own. To be more thorough, I would have had to scour parts of his mind blank, and they asked me specifically not to do so.

Relief washed over her, and Elsbeth felt her eyes tear up as a great weight lifted from her shoulders. The old man reached over with one gnarled hand and patted her on the head.

Dont waste your tears, child. This one throws himself willingly into the fire, dont cry when he gets burned.

I cant help it, she replied, I cant help but care.

Its dangerous to care so much. But it can also be a strength. Now. Is there any chance you can help an old man? I need to get down those stairs, and hopefully we can find a place to eat with a nice broth on the menu.

Of course, Venerable. Thank you, for what youve done.

The old man eyed her wearily.

I serve at the gods whim, child. As do you.