Chapter 17.1: The Answer to the Question

If the Durmand Priory’s spire had been impressive, it was only because the group hadn’t yet seen the interior of the structure. Sculpted out of the mountain itself with the same precision as the enormous exterior plaza, the entry hall towered so high above them that the ceiling might not have been visible if it weren’t for the incandescent orbs strung some hundred feet overhead. Those large balls of light illuminated the dark granite ceiling, but hanging so high up, their glow only just reached the floor of the hall. Everything at eye level and below was lit half by the orbs and half by fire pots lining the ground, which only added to the sense of hushed mystery that filled the place.

Having declared their names and loyalties to the guards outside the main entrance, Ventyr and his party had been met by two members of the order who’d awaited them them since the arrival of a pigeon from the Vigil Keep a few days before. One, who called herself Magister Makkay, was a dark-skinned human dressed in the stiff, blue skirts common to her order. She toted a thick staff tipped in crystal that clacked against the stone floor as she walked. The other, Explorer Velm, was a slender norn man who only stood head and shoulders above his superior: not the height difference Penny had come to expect between people of the two races, but she’d seen stranger things. The explorer trailed a step behind the magister as they led the visitors down the echoing stone hall toward the central chamber.

Penny had heard somewhere that the Priory held the single most extensive collection of antiquities on the continent. She’d imagined that to mean disorderly piles of dusty, old, worthless objects hoarded away by overeducated bookworms: in a word, a library. Surprisingly the plentiful shelves of well maintained scrolls and rows of framed portraits on the walls reflected a high degree of care, however arcane the objects themselves may have been.

When the hall opened into the Priory’s central chamber, even Penny had to admit that the scale and decor of the entry were instantly eclipsed by the room at its end. Broad and circular, everything about the buttressed chamber led the eye to its center, or rather to the phenomenon that illumined its center. Penny craned her neck to follow the sight from bottom to top, and the others, too, spread around their guides to stare disbelievingly at what was clearly the centerpiece of the whole facility.

It was a pillar of light twenty feet across, emanating from a chasm in the floor and stretching all the way to the ceiling, easily three-hundred feet above. Equally bright at all points from bottom to top, it shimmered like sunlight on a pool of gold, spiraling laterally around its axis with stone carvings, tomes, ancient weapons, and many objects that were entirely unrecognizable caught in its magical gravity and rotating in orbit for all to see.

“If you’ll come with me,” Makkay said to Ventyr in a hushed tone, “we can discuss your article. The description we received was vague at best.” She gestured him toward the edge of the room. He nodded and followed.

Penny nearly followed on as well, but Makkay interrupted, addressing her assistant. “Velm, stay here and see that the Sergeant’s party is well tended. He and I have matters to discuss. Alone.” Makkay was gently spoken but decided, clearly having the authority in the room.

“Yes, ma’am,” Velm replied.

Penny shrugged, about to wander away and examine more of that grand chamber when Jinkke brushed past her, making a beeline to Velm. “So what is this?” she asked, pointing up at the column of light. “Some sort of repulsion lift field?”

The explorer blinked vacantly. “I’m not especially familiar with—”

The echoing creak of an opening iron gate drew all the visitors’ attention away from the norn. The gate, surprisingly, was in the floor at the eastern edge of the room. Makkay and Ventyr disappeared down a flight of stairs, and the gate closed again behind them.

Jinkked attended once more to the norn. “You were saying?”

Penny shook her head and moved on across the room.

After well over an hour of touring artifacts and enduring a lengthy diatribe on the posited usefulness of the magic suspending those tablets and runes in the air, Penny was growing weary of both the Priory and her asuran companions, two of whom were locked in a debate over the merits of various repulsion methods. It was repulsive alright. The science of it might have proven intriguing, had either asura been half as interested in sharing knowledge as they were in proving their mastery over it. She left them jabbering in the middle of the room and stalked off toward the gate that Ventyr and Makkay had passed through some time before.

She dropped onto a stair-stepped riser at the base of one of the massive buttresses that held up the cavern’s ceiling. She slipped her arms out of her pack’s straps, surprised she hadn’t done it yet. “SP-1,” she said, “food.”

The mandible slid out of the dispenser slot at her hip with a small, burlap sack. Taking it, she pulled the drawstring, reached in for a bit of whatever was inside, and stuffed it into her mouth.

“Is that dried beef?”

She looked up with a start to find Minkus, oddly sniffing the air.

“I didn’t know you kept food in there,” he said.

“Yeah. Don’t see why it should be limited to tools. A girl’s got to eat.” She eyed him sidelong for  a moment, then shook her head and ripped a piece in two, extending half toward him. “Here.”

He took it, holding it instead of eating as words formed on his tongue. “Does this— does this mean you’re not upset anymore?”

Penny took a sharp bite of the piece still in her hand, ripping into it and chewing aggressively. Bits of the conversation with Jinkke flashed through her mind.

“Upset? You mean pissed.” She sighed. “No, Minkus. I’m not— well, I’m not upset with you. Necessarily.” His countenance started to lighten, but she suddenly continued, pointing a free finger at him. “But don’t you dare pull garbage like that again. We find ourselves in the outhouse, you put your pants on and fight. You got that?”

He nodded awkwardly, still holding the beef in hand.

Penny went on chomping her bite as she spoke. “I don’t care what your sister says or does, you don’t leave me behind. You hear me? That’s just shit.”

He nodded again, his eyes down at the floor. “I hear you,” he said quietly. “I— I’m sorry I let you— let you and Ventyr down. I should have— I mean, next time I’ll— Jinkke said we should hide, and I— well, it just felt so— so natural.”

“Look at me,” Penny replied, leaning down to catch his descended gaze. She paused, observing his very un-asura subordination. “Look,” she went on, “whatever the thing is between you and your sister, I don’t give a shit. You’re a man— asura— whatever. Just act like it.”

He nodded sheepishly. “Yes. I’ll talk to Jinkke.”

She scowled at him. “Gods. You don’t have to run everything by her. She’s your little sister, not your wet nurse.”

Confusion dressed his face. She took pause again.

“Never mind,” Penny said. “Just stick with us, OK?” She nodded toward the meat in his hand. “Now eat that before Vent comes back and we’re all dragged off to who-knows-where next.” With a thin but returning smile, Minkus did as he was told, stuffing the food into his mouth and chewing wetly.

Bits of shredded beef still on his lip, Minkus began to ask a question. “What do you think Ventyr—”

There was a clang beneath them that stopped him short, and the gate in the floor began pulling open. The squealing sound of iron grating on stone made them both wince, but while the gate was still drawing back, Ventyr emerged from the hole, gliding up the staircase and into view.

“Ventyr!” Minkus burst, unable to contain his excitement. He bounced over to the vigilman’s side, quickly matching pace with the sylvari. “What did they say? Do they know anything about—”

Ventyr flashed him a corrective look that vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. He turned his back to Skixx, Jinkke, and Velm, still in the middle of the room. “No,” he quietly intoned. “She has theories, but she’s showing it to some of her specialists to learn more.”

The iron gate behind Minkus had nearly slid shut again when it groaned to a sudden halt, still inches from closing entirely. “Come on, open it up now,” a mousy voice below demanded. “I need to get up there.”

With another clang and more of that spine-curling squeal, the gate reversed and began sliding open once more, creating just enough space for a sprite of an asura to pop out and onto the stone floor, waving something in her hand and nearly yelping at Ventyr.

“You! Sylvari, dressed in Vigil accoutrements and accompanied by—” She looked at each of them around the room in a single sweep, her volume rising as she made her count. “Human, asura, asura, asura. Check. You do keep good company, but I digress. Where did you get this exceptional sample of Mursaat jade? It truly is something—”

“If you don’t mind,” Ventyr said abruptly, wrapping his hand around hers to tuck the stone out of sight. He’d moved to her faster than Penny had recognized. “Are you the specialist?” he asked. “Do you know what this is?”

She wrenched her hand and her prize free of his grip. “Yes, on both counts,” she replied, as loudly as before. “I’m Yissa, and I most certainly know what this is. I just told you: mursaat jade. Note these striations and the subtle pulse of magic still pumping through it? It’s Mursaat, very Mursaat. Quite an exceptional sample too, very crisp and clear.” She smiled at it almost proudly, and her gaze moved from the object to the sylvari. “Where on Tyria did you excavate it?”

“I need to insist you keep your voice down,” Ventyr said through a clenched jaw. He shot a glance back over his shoulder at Skixx and Jinkke. Even Penny could see it was too late, though; both were now walking toward them. Ventyr turned back to the asura. “I didn’t excavate it. It’s the remains of a creature that killed several Vigil soldiers.”

“Alchemy!” The slender female squealed, still not talking any more quietly. “You mean to tell me the account the magister gave me was accurate? You found a living jade construct? You’re pulling my ear. There are no constructs still active, not in this reality anyway.”

Ventyr paused for a moment, sizing up the little person before him. Penny did too. She was somewhere between Skixx and Jinkke in height and seemed to vibrate with energy. Each twitch and shift made the twin braids in her blond hair bounce. “I don’t know what the creature was,” Ventyr finally said, “but it was certainly not an excavation.”

Yissa squinted suspiciously, putting a hand to her hip. “You’re telling the truth?”

“Yes,” Ventyr replied, straightening. “I’ve come halfway across Tyria. What reason would I have to lie?”

“What reason?” Yissa questioned, arms wide. “Do you know the fame you’d achieve in the scholastic community if you could provide proof positive of living constructs? My ears. You’d be documented simply for finding a remaining source of the jade. Most scholars on the subject believe the mines to have been lost with the rising of Orr, though one or two disagree. I personally don’t see why—”

“I don’t know what it was,” Ventyr interjected. “The only survivor said it was a large—”

“Yes,” Yissa interrupted, nodding, “a large hovering entity with many eyes, incomparable strength, and the ability to rend your companions’ minds.” She pointed the shard at him. “It aligns with every account I’ve ever read. With the exception of that progeny in 1073 who claimed they were made of rock candy. Preposterous. Anyway, that’s a construct, or I’m a siamoth herder.” The new asura’s tiny voice echoed around the chamber, clear enough for any interested party to listen in on. Skixx, Jinkke, and Velm were now gathered round as well, drawn by the discussion but surprisingly quiet.

Minkus stepped forward. “Is that bad?” he asked.

She rounded on him to retort but stopped as quickly as she’d started, staring up at him silently for a moment. “Why, hello there, tall, thick, and handsome.” She took a step forward. “We’ll talk later. For now, yes, everyone knows siamoth herding is a lowly profession.”

“I think he meant this construct thing you’re talking about,” Penny said, crossing her arms. She was standing closer to the conversation now, despite wanting more and more to be as far from this little imp as possible. “Is the construct bad?”

Yissa scanned all their faces, her two golden braids swaying slightly with each shift of her head. “You’re asking me if the construct is bad? Did none of you hear me say mursaat?”

They looked at each other and then back at Yissa, as confused by her as she seemed to be by them. Suddenly the only sounds were the shuffling feet and shifting scrolls of a half-dozen Priory scholars still at work around the room. Yissa waited as long as she seemed capable of.

“None of you are familiar with the Mursaat?” she squeaked, staring at them all. “One of the most powerful and treacherous races to ever walk the face of Tyria?”

Penny shifted her weight, perplexed and more than a little annoyed. “Guess not.”

The asura slumped forward, making her exasperation clear as she glared at Penny. “What in the Alchemy are they teaching in schools these days?”

“Don’t look at me,” Penny protested. “I never went to school.”

Yissa looked at Ventyr.

“Sylvari don’t have schools,” he said, unmoving.

She looked to Jinkke.

“Advanced golemantic engineering and integrated transdimensional rifts,” Jinkke said, arms crossed.

“That’s a good answer,” Yissa said, shrugging. Just as quickly, she shot Penny a particularly scornful glance. “Since none of you know your history, though: yes, this being mursaat is bad, potentially very bad. We’re talking about a people who betrayed all the major races of Tyria the last time the elder dragons rose. A people who sacrificed the magics of all others to preserve their own. A people who found a way to cheat death by, I hypothesize, slipping into a dimension out of phase with our reality.” She looked at Penny again. “A people who all but enslaved your race. And a people who employed legions of hulking, magical, jade constructs to do their manual and martial work with frightening efficacy. If we only have constructs, the situation is bad. If we have mursaat?” A shiver ran up her back, through her neck, and out through the ends of her braids. Strangely, it was followed by a subtle grin. “It’s highly exciting, but also very bad.”

There was a sudden silence. After a moment, Ventyr finally asked the question they all knew he’d carried for far too long. “So, there is no possibility this is evidence of a dragon minion?”

Yissa blinked in a way that said he was the village idiot. “Why would this be indicative of a dragon’s influence?” she asked. “It’s jade. Not magma, not crystal, not ice, and most certainly not rotting flesh. Nothing whatsoever to do with a dragon. Unless there’s a jade dragon. Now there’s a novel— no,” she corrected herself. “There’s not even a fictional tale of such a thing ever. Impossible.”

Ventyr nodded, and another few moments of unsure silence fell on the group.

“So what do we do?” Minkus asked of no one in particular.

“That’s why we’re here,” Ventyr replied, gripping his staff so tightly it creaked between his flexing, wooden fingers. He looked to the scholar. “What do you suggest?”

“I suggest we find your bunks for the night,” she said plainly.

“Pardon me?” Ventyr asked again.

“Bunks for the night,” she repeated, only briefly looking up at him from the stone. Her gaze had repeatedly fallen back to it. “Preparations take time; we’ll need to find you sleeping arrangements until everything is in place. The magister would be upset, to say the least, if my duties here weren’t tended and provisions weren’t in place. And Alchemy forbid we should formalize such a plan without her express permission— I know perfectly well how testy she can get about that.” She grimaced. “Humans.”

Ventyr leaned forward, squinting slightly. “I’m sorry, but I’m not following. What are we preparing for?”

Yissa met his gaze, and a smile pushed at her cheeks as she bounced the jade in her hand. “Why, for you to take me to the place you found this, of course.”