Chapter Two Hundred And Ninety One – 291Vvim? Felix's Mind flashed back to the ancient Geist in Shelim. Did Vvim send this construct?
"Felix? What is it?" Vess said as she jogged up to him. She grimaced at the pungent muck spread all around them. Not all of it had been absorbed by his Skill, for whatever reason. "Is that the creature's core? It was a Golem?"
"Or something," Felix agreed. He chose to save the Memory for now. He'd have to check it later. And don't eat it, he admonished his abyss. A quick check showed the mote of Memory sitting high in his Essence cloud, well away from the hungry rift between his cores. Felix imagined the thing growled at him unhappily, but the Memory didn't move. "I stole a Memory from it, but I don't want to check it here."
"Yes, that would be unwise. We are too exposed." She looked to the side, where Pit and Evie landed with a heavy thump. "Evie, can you signal the others to proceed along the bridge?"
"Yeah sure." She massaged her right forearm as she walked off. "I'm gonna be sore later. That thing hit harder than a Reforged."
She was right. It was strong, a lot stronger than Felix had expected. Comparing his memories, it was easily twice as strong as the Orichalcum Golem Felix had faced in Haarwatch. And Vvim...built this?
He had a lot of questions.
Felix?
"Yeah?"
Vvim is...a Geist?
Oh! "Yeah, he's an old Geist that has helped me out in the past. Well," Felix amended. "Helped is a generous way to put it, but he pointed me in the right direction. You probably know all about the Geist though, right?"
Yes. I...I did.
Felix raised an eyebrow at Karys' tone. At that moment, Vess stepped close to him and nodded to the rough spiral of wood still in his hands.
"Not to interrupt, Felix," she said. "But I would like to look at this. May I?"
"Sure." Felix handed it over. Just like the splatters of mud around them, the core hadn't been eaten by Ravenous Tithe. Which was strange. "I'm not sure why the core didn't dissolve into Essence and Mana when I used Ravenous Tithe on the rest of it."
"Yes, I am curious about that as well. And how was it able to shrug off our attacks so easily?" She turned the core in her hands, noting several deeply ingrained shapes that almost looked like sigils. "It looks grown rather than built."
"New method of Golem making?"
"Or a very old one." A frown of thought creased her face, but a smile flashed across it when she caught him staring. "We should set camp soon so you can review that Memory. There is no point in wasting time."
Felix coughed. "Right on that count. Harn!" Felix called, though his voice was mostly eaten by the wind across the chasm. Harn and the rest, however, were close enough now that he heard him fine. "Let's set camp for the evening. We have things to discuss."
What are they doing? Why are they resting? Had the mud monster truly given the Fiend such trouble?
Captain Ifre hunched lower in the mossy stones on the opposite side of the ravine. She had no idea how potent the Fiend's Perception was, and the last she wanted was to be caught. They'd kept their distance for the past week, well out of even the Farwalker's effective range. She saw no reason not to be cautious, not if they were to succeed.
"Captain, if they're setting camp, you should get some rest," Isyk said to her left. "I'll keep an eye on them. If they move I'll wake you."
Ifre hesitated, but it was true she was tired. Both because of the vigilance she demanded of the team, but also for...other reasons. Her eyes drifted down to an item at her waist. Her belt hung heavy, even bound with sealed wrappings as it was; it dragged at her.
"Very well. Wake me the moment they make a move." She crept backward from the ridge, and slid down into the secluded hollow they'd found. Tyrk was there, oiling his blades against all the rain. "Tyrk. Relieve Isyk after four glasses. I want all of us rested for the city ruin ahead."
"You really think they're headed there?" Tyrk asked.
"At this point there is little doubt. I just don't know why." Ifre laid down on her bedroll and pulled an oilskin over her shoulders to ward off the constant misting spray.
"Captain?"
"What is it, Tyrk?"
"Why are we here?" She looked at the man, and he was nervously licking his lips. He was a proven warrior of the clan, but he was clearly nervous. "Following that man doesn't feel right. He saved us."
Ifre sighed and sat back up. "He did save us. I would have died had he not intervened. But the Matriarch set us a task, and her word binds us. The Dawnguard serve the Wander, and the Wander is the demesne of the Matriarch."
"Of course. Blessed be the Raven's chosen."
"Blessed be."
Ifre rolled over, determined to wrangle an ounce of sleep if she could. She tried to let her doubts settle, pushing them aside for the relief of silent dreams.
The Matriarch has her reasons, I'm sure.
Yet item at her waist pulsed like a heartbeat, and sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.
They travelled a short way from the bone bridge, finding a shallow depression for them to shelter from some of the wind and rain. Much as they'd seen throughout the deeper parts of the Foglands, there were parts of statues buried in the earth, appearing to be cousins to the Nymean men and women that stretched across the ravine. A large, glowering face tilted sideways out of the ridge behind them, its features unaffected by the passing of time or weathering of the seasons. The head itself was severed, which was a bit of a surprise.
"Huh, what could cut through that bone?" Kylar wondered aloud. His had been the sword to attempt to cut a previous bridge, resulting in nothing more than a strained arm and bruised pride as his sword vibrated right out of his grip. "Has to be magic, right?"
"Hard to say," Nevia said. "Crafting with bone isn't something I'm familiar with, but if it functions like stone there are a number of enchantments that can be worked into a structure to make it almost impervious to most Skills."
"Could you cut it, Felix?" Kylar asked. He brushed nervously at his thin moustache, one he kept fastidiously trimmed even out in the wilds. "With your magic, or one of your swords, surely you could."
Before Felix could answer, Atar laughed and smoothed his own mustache, one so pale it was hard to remember it existed. "Likely not. It's a Tempered material."
"Temperedyou mean it's System enforced?" Nevia asked in excitement.
Atar nodded sagely and adjusted his battlerobes. Felix smiled. The man did love to lecture. "It is the only process that makes sense. No bone should be so dense, unless it was once part of a beast that Tempered their Body into something greater. The Nym merely harvested the bone."
"They would have had to been of a greater Tier to defeat it, and the Skill needed to carve it..." Nevia trailed off as she contemplated the hollow eyed face. To Felix it looked remarkably similar to a Human, if with a slightly odd tilt to its features. "What Tier would that require?"
"High than Adept, I know," A'zek said in his soothing baritone. "My Companion wades in those shoals, and he cannot scratch their surface. He has tried."
"Remarkable," Nevia said in a half whisper.
"Yeah, great. Now help me with this fire," grumbled Davum. His thick fingers were fiddling with some kindling, but the flames kept extinguishing in the misting rain.
"Oh, allow me," Atar said. A wash of flame followed, sending Davum scrambling backwards. "Ah, sorry."
"Atar, stop burning our allies and come help me map out these etchings," Alister said. The man had taken shelter beneath a deeper outcropping that, upon further investigation, was definitely a carved hand. He had a series of parchments laid out on a dry mat. "I've almost pinned down how they modulate the expansion distance."
"Modulate the expansi-what?" Evie said. "You two've been over those sigils for weeks now. What's the point?"
"Knowledge is its own reward," Atar said. Evie snorted.