Going Feet First Ch. 05

"Your help wouldn't be needed, though it would be advised considering I am the only one to have survived the process thus far."

The cheery look about the goddess faded as she locked eyes with Dreek. The Commandant blinked as she felt her mind tingle within her skull, like the Empathic calm Jrastra had induced upon her before she learned to guard against it. Only now she felt her thoughts shifting about her consciousness, the images of the dead mages who had undergone the tanneran enchantments flashing in her mind's eye.

Before she could grasp what was going on in her head, a fog seemed to pull over her thoughts and her vision started to go black. With a frown wrinkling her brow, she shut her eyes and tried to shake her head clear of the vertigo now taking over her train of thought.

How did you survive the enchantment? came a whisper in the back of her skull.

Opening her eyes, Dreek was no longer in the study with Zer'tath and Jrastra; her seat at her desk and the observing Galen by the door was gone. Where she was now took her several moments to clue in.

She sat in a throne of iron inlayed with lines of the cyan-colored metal her people called tanneran. Each wall of this octagonal room was plated with the same metal, with robed female mages in each corner holding a transparent, skull-sized crystal in their hands. Magic in the room gathered and channeled into these glass-like gems and, with the properties of the crystals, grew tenfold in its potency.

In her lap was a solid, metal mask which only had a single slit in it where the mouth was to allow the wearer to breathe. Six of the same colorless crystals lined the edge of the face cover, and a pair of runes was inscribed onto a pair of tanneran plates that lay over the eyes.

"The crystals are reaching capacity, you are ready now, Commandant?"

Dreek looked up from her lap to the woman in front of her, the robed mage bearing a solemn look from under her hood. It sounded as though she were the executioner asking the condemned for their last words. Annoyance tightened the Sun-Kissed elder's grip on the mask in her lap as she lowered her eyelids to half-cover her maroon eyes. If this mage expected her to succumb to the magic of the ritual, she did not know the power of her elders.

"I am ready, Faerdron sister. Get on with it."

The mage nodded her head and stepped back against the wall. Cycling a breath through her lungs, exhaling through her mouth, Dreek brought the mask in her lap to her face, flinching as the cold metal bonded to her skin. Goosebumps traced her neck as a chill penetrated her eyelids from the enchanted runes.

Already she could feel trickles of its power soaking into her body while her own power drained into her chair. With steel in her gut she pulled her hands from the mask and held them out before her. In moments she sensed two of the mages approach and into her outstretched palms they placed a pair of crystals.

The mana flowing throughout Dreek's body instantly changed, her magical energy drawn to her arms and sucked out her fingertips. A sharp, piercing pain climbed her spine, like a star-shaped blade was being ripped up her backbone. Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore the sensation similar to having her life essence bleeding out her backside.

"The spellweavers, quickly!"

Feet shuffled around Dreek, three approached her directly. What felt to be two thin sheets of parchment were pressed onto the back of her hands, her skin starting to burn beneath them while a third was stuck to the face of her mask.

"Nod when you feel the last of your mana drain from your body."

Were she to judge from the levels Dreek normally felt flowing through her veins, it was almost as though she was already drained of her mana. Her muscles tired fast with so much sucked from them. Her hands barely held the strength to grasp the crystals and the mask on her face grew heavy. But she still felt traces of arcane power within her, traces that had to be ridden from her body before she could continue.

That last tingling spark bounced around her chest on its way toward her arm. Her body refused to let it go as it drew nearer and nearer to the crystal she held. It almost seemed to claw at the underside of her skin, grasping onto her nerves as it slid into her palm. This last tidbit of magic held with Dreek for a moment, tearing at her hand with a dagger-like pain.

Dreek let out a relaxed sigh, harnessing this drop of mana and pulling to her core. There she held it, coaxed it, muttered the words of spell under her breath. Then with what power this piece of mana held, she hissed one final word, her hands instantly cooling off as a touch of frost momentarily appeared over the backs of her knuckles. With this spell, the magic in her body was spent, and with it the pain caused by being drained of it.

Relaxing her jaw, she looked to the presence she sensed beside her and gave a single nod.

"That was the easy part, Commandant. Remember to channel the coming energy to your hands and into the crystals on three. One."

Under the mask on her face, pure determination dominated Dreek's expression while her long ears twitched with anticipation.

"Two."

She started taking slow, calming breaths to lower her heart-rate.

"Three."

There was no going back.

Something touched to the front of Dreek's mask, and with that contact came a chaotic distortion of all the magic flowing within range of her senses. The stone around her seemed to explode with an arcane blitz that pulled right for her.

As it poured into her mask, and subsequently her head, every piece of her body, every stone's weight of her flesh, felt as though it were being casted into molten metal. Both her eyes felt as though spears enchanted with the power of lightning had pierced them right through to the back of her skull. Her hands screamed at her as though they were running through a crusher.

Had she not the strength of five and a half centuries spent in training and combat, she most definitely would have screamed. Though a high-pitched, muffled squeal did escape her throat, the singing sound of the crystals transferring their stored mana to her body drowned out whatever noise she made.

The pain only grew more intense in the passing moments as the arcane energy in her body amplified to a level she considered normal. But nevertheless, she had to follow the procedure. She had to force it all to her hands once again to be expelled from her body. For the second time that piercing pain climbed her spine, though it did not seem so severe in comparison to what currently ailed her nerves.

"I can't believe it," a voice whispered.

"Believe it, Zia'thrin. Forget you not that it was the sheer volume of magic that had done the damage to the others, it seems the Commandant can handle such levels."

Through a clenched jaw and muffled by the mask, Dreek hissed, "These levels... are... my...normal..."

The voices quit speaking for a moment, and the volume of the singing crystals became steadily quieter. In moments the magic pouring into Dreek's body began falling as well, with it the scalding pain scorching her flesh with unseen flames. The muscles in her hands, weak with fatigue from the ritual, released their burden even against her will. Other muscles through her did the same as well, and soon she slipped down in her chair, her extremities becoming limp.

Something shattered on either side of her, shards showering the sides of her boots. And with that crash, the pain came to an end. The ritual was finished.

"Is she alive?"

A command word was uttered and the magic bonding the mask to Dreek's face released. The iron adornment fell right onto her stomach, making Dreek wince and immediately wrap both her arms around her midsection.

"I live..." she whispered, opening her eyes to see her results.

Her Darkvision, once so prominent in this room, had faded away. Using the light coming off the tanneran walls alone she could see the area around her in a way she could not before. Now she could see the discoloration in the stone floor, the uneven tones in cyan glow flooding the area.

"Did it work?"

Looking to the mage who had posed the question, Dreek responded, "My vision... changed... though I... don't know... if..."

The fatigue weighing down her body finally took over before she could finish her words. And as her formerly dark, red eyes closed in this ritual chamber, they snapped open again to find herself back in her study. Jrastra was still at her desk to her right and Zer'tath still sat calmly on the stool she had spawned.

What just happened? Dreek wondered, blinking her deep violet eyes while glancing to Galen by the door. The soldier hadn't moved from his spot though a querying look had come to his face. Had no time passed while I lived out that... memory?

Yes.

Alarm made Dreek's eyes dart to Zer'tath as the glowing-eyed Drow smiled kindly, "If I may accompany Galen to the ritual, then I will see to it he survives the process. After all, my power can do a numerous amount of things, very easily."

A fist formed in the third Commandant's hand as she scowled at the woman.

"As I've seen, Crystal. But do know there are lines not to be crossed. For any reason. And I will not tolerate you doing so regardless of what you can do or what deal you've made. You will suffer in any way I can find if you do not keep yourself in check. Are we understood, creature?"

With a bit of a giggle, Necela politely bowed her head, keeping direct eye contact with Dreek as she replied, "Of course, Commandant. It's good we can understand each other."

..................

According to Galen's watch, it was a few minutes before eight at night, though he wasn't entirely sure if it was right. He had set it the morning after he and Petra slew Pretayus's band of slavers, setting it to six AM just as the sun dawned over the horizon and merely kept it wound up since then. Determining whether or not it accurately portrayed the time of day would have to wait until he saw the sun again.

Still, as he sat on the bed in his room within the depths of the Sun-Kissed fortress, he took solace in the light of a weakly burning lantern by the door that allowed him to stare at the hands on his watch winding around in their circle. The second hand clicked with each movement behind the glass face and the minute hand crept forward behind it made him feel light in his stomach. Had the Drow not fed him a decent, heavy meal before, he doubted he could've held his belly down as the events of the past ninety-six hours began to sink in.

And yet, despite the growing home-sickness plaguing his belly, he reached into his pocket and fished out his locket. He opened the silver case and stared at the photos within, a smile working its way onto his tired face.

He cleared his throat then, shifting his shoulders to get a bit more comfortable. He swept his tongue over dry lips and swallowed a bit of saliva in his mouth. In a hushed voice, hopefully low enough to keep anyone outside his door from hearing, he began to sing.

"Tear drops fell on momma's note, when I read the things she wrote. She said we miss you, son, we love you; come on home..."

He swallowed the lump growing in his throat as he stared at the picture of him and his parents, the three of them smiling happily toward the camera.

"Well, I didn't have to pack; I had it all on my back. Now, I'm five hundred miles away from home... away from home, away from home, cold an' tired, an' all alone... yes, I'm five hundred miles away from home-"

A sudden knock on his door made Galen go silent and snap his locket shut. He hurried to shove it back into his pants before standing from his bed and taking the single step to answer whoever waited for him.

Not knowing what to expect, he grabbed and turned the door knob. Nervousness made his left hand twitch. Seeing who did stand outside his door calmed his nerves as he was met with the calming glow of Necela's solid, cyan eyes.

Bearing a sweet smile, she said, "Good evening, Galen, may I come in?"

Blinking in surprise, he nodded and stepped aside while opening the door, "Of course, an' good evenin' to you, too."

As Necela joined him in his rather cramped room, a brief chill raced Galen's spine. He still felt something odd about seeing her in a Drow-like form. Everything about her was so much different, if not total opposite, than the race she mimicked in her current body. From her honesty and trusting nature, to her kindness and grace. But at the same time, she didn't seem to be the same... "person" he knew before. Her attitude, demeanor, even the way she carried herself had changed. Whether it was to fit in with the mortals or something else... Galen didn't know.

"A tight space for someone used to the open expanses of the surface," she commented, looking about the room. "But I'm sure you will be alright. Do you mind if I stay to... talk?"

Turning to face the soldier, the goddess couldn't help but chuckle from the surprised look she found on his face.

"Umm, yeah... please, sit on the bed if you'd like," he invited while motioning that way.

"Thank you," Necela replied with a smile as she smoothed over the few wrinkles left in the blanket and sat down.

Rubbing his hand over the back of his head, Galen tried to keep an easy tone to his voice. "Uhh... I'd offer some coffee or somethin', but I'm not sure if I could brew it up down here or if you'd like it... or... do you even eat or drink?"

Again, Necela giggled and shook her head. "No, neither I nor the puppet here before you need sustenance, though I would not decline if offered."

"Alright... Guess I can brew some up if I get the chance. See if you like somethin' from my home."

Blinking slow and purposefully with her glowing eyes, Necela nonchalantly crossed her legs and placed both hands upon her knee. "I would like that... But if I may ask, Galen, what were you singing before I had knocked on your door? A piece from your home?"

Doing his best to not to smile, he timidly nodded with his cheeks flushing red. "Yeah, it's a tune I heard come over th' radio when I first came to Vietnam. It sorta stuck with me, I guess."

The temptation was there for Necela to utilize her powers over the mind for more, but the goddess mentally pushed the notion aside. What fun would it be to simply pry everything from his thoughts? She could help him through this trying time far better by talking with him, his health was more important than her curiosity.

"It is quite the lamenting tune, but sweet in a sad fashion. Your singing, though, is quite pleasing to hear."

His whole face had gone red, "Thanks. Ma and me, we were in the church choir back home, if you'd believe it."

"I would believe it. I can almost hear the music in the way you speak when I listen past your accent."

He was doing his best to keep himself from grinning like an idiot at this point. "Can't remember a day that'd gone by when ma wasn't playing some song on the radio back home."

"She sounds like a wonderful lady."

"She is wonderful. Did her best to raise me right with what she had... 'Specially when things were tough at home."

"Your home, what is that like?" she asked.

Both of Galen's eyes went to the floor as his mind was drawn back to that place, a smile creeping its way onto his face despite all his best efforts. "My home... it's in a fair sized town, way out on the western plains of my home country and away from any real big city. I lived in that same house since I was born, but it's been just my ma' and me since I was seven."

"No father?"

The smile that had been on Galen's face quickly faded and he went silent. With a bit of redness coming to his eyes he took a deep breath and he slowly shook his head. Noticing the concerned that dawned over the goddess' face, he lowered himself down and took a seat on the floor, leaning back against the wall.

"My dad died fighting another war in a place called Korea. He got shot in the chest five times before he fell... even then, he lived long enough to speak out a letter for his buddy to write home before he died in surgery. To think, that was thirteen years ago now... Jesus Christ."

Necela paused a moment as Galen removed his helmet and ran his hand over the top of his head, a tear escaping his eye. "Your... 'dad' was a soldier, so you became one, too."

"He wasn't the only soldier in my family," Galen stated as his eyes came up to meet with Necela's. "My granddads, both of them. My Uncles. My great-granddads, I could go on but I'd be listin' almost every man in my family."

"Being a soldier is in your blood."

"Yeah. Thought I could do my dad proud by joinin' up, goin' to war. Maybe win myself a medal like him and bring it home to show it off to my ma... make 'er proud..." His voice trailed off and his gaze returned to the floor.

"Galen," Necela called, drawing his attention back to her.

She could sense the tightness he felt in his chest and the sorrow that caused it. Tears sneaked their way into the corners of his eyes and she saw how hard he was fighting now to hold them in. In a calm manner the Goddess rose from the bed and stepped over to kneel beside her faithful soldier, cupping his cheek with her hand to bring his gaze up to meet hers.

"My vision may not reach your world, nor do I know much of your mother, but what I see before me is a strong, young man that would make any mother proud. You did not crumble in the face of death, you have proven yourself forgiving, pure, and focused, with the strength to handle anything before you. If not your mother, you have done a Goddess proud."

Galen cracked a smile and brought his hand up to take a hold of hers, moving it to his side and softly squeezing her fingers.

"Thank you, Necela. That... you have no idea what that means. Do you think... that..."

"Think what?" she inquired as he once again looked off to the side.

"You think that I'll ever be able to go home? To Earth? To America? See my Ma again?"

Silence hung in the air as Necela's mouth quirked off to the side. She shut her eyes and thought for a moment, her hand unconsciously squeezing Galen's. When her eyes opened again she answered, "I will ask my sisters and the other powers over Raska. One may be able to help. Though I do wonder what intent you have with Celia, if your plan is to leave our world."

Swiftly shaking his head, Galen was quick to respond, "I'm not leaving for long. I just want to go tell my Ma I'm alright. 'Cause in a week or so, somebody is gonna drive up to my house, knock on her door, and... and she's gonna find out that my plane went down with me still on it. The last thing I'd ever want is for her to think I'm gone."

Necela gave a nod while releasing a calmed breath. "Then I should see to you finding a way for you to both travel and return from your world. It pleases me that you plan on staying in my realm with Celia and Petra."

There was a determined strength behind the nod that Galen gave, "Yeah. I think Raska is as good a place as any to settle down in. It's Celia's home..." He paused as his hands clenched into fists, his breath becoming unsteady. "And as I swore to protect that girl, to care for her and to love her... Ain't nothin' gonna stop me from getting her back. Even if it kills me, I'll just crawl outta Hell and try again."

Now Necela could feel the fire burning inside him, his heart pounding in his chest as she saw the image of the Elf flood his mind. If she had ever wondered about his faithfulness to his sweet Tree Elf or question what he felt, she didn't anymore.

"You needn't voice your feelings with me, Galen. I know you will hold her again, as we both shall see to it that death meets with Pretayus personally to drag him to the Nether... Just, if you will, promise me one more thing."