Meeting

Rowan was expecting this to be some dream or vision, not a live event. She wasn’t expecting her supposed monk counterpart to have such a vibrant personality or leap off the downed stone spider, arms spread wide as if she was intending on tackling Rowan into a hug.

Her cheerful laugh as she did was also a bit unexpected. As was the dwarf passing right through her incorporeal form and crashing into the stone ground.

Rowan was quick to turn around, concern rising.

“Are you alright?!” she asked, not knowing if she could even be heard. At least she could hear herself speak and hear the things around her, so her hope was it was only the physical that was out of phase.

“Oh, I’m a lot more robust than I look!” the dwarf cheerfully answered, leaping to her feet as if she had only fallen onto something soft like a bed. Though her clothing was far less durable and had ripped on the jagged ground, slipping off her large chest and fluttering to the ground. “Looks like we match now! Guess that’s appropriate. Didn’t think you were a nudist.”

“I am not!” Rowan protested, covering her breasts with her arms. “I’m not sure why I’m naked, or even how I got here. All I did was fall asleep.”

“I fell asleep too! Well, after I helped you fight those ash things. Man, it felt so good to finally be able to help! Oh, names! What’s yours? I’m Astra!”

“R-Rowan,” the squire answered, a bit taken aback by Astra’s forwardness.

“Rowan,” the dwarf repeated. “I like it! Wish I knew how this happened. After I woke up, my system said our link got stronger, so I figured trying to fight would make it better. Maybe I was right!”

“I have no answer,” Rowan remarked. “We did just have a conversation with an avatar of Gep’kes Ani so that might have done something.”

Astra looked at Rowan with wide eyes. “You met a goddess!?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Rowan answered, shifting uncomfortably. Even after meeting Verida and having her project no sense of superiority, interacting with the divine left her feeling small. “She told us about you, in an indirect way. That you’re the last of some order of monks.”

Astra’s happy expression dimmed. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it. Another way is that I’m their last project.”

“Project?”

“The arms don’t give it away?” Astra joked, flexing a mechanical limb. “I’m not really a dwarf. Not in body anyway. Mom and Dad figured out a way to give me a soul and I don’t think they failed. I feel pretty much like everyone in my memories.”

“So you're some kind of golem?” Rowan asked carefully. Some part of her training had gone over the various inhuman enemies she could end up facing. Golems were the one noted as having a wide range of varieties, going from crude creatures of stone to beings nearly indistinguishable from living beings. Their common point was that they were constructs and had no free will. They followed commands given to them or one programmed into them.

Astra shrugged. “They used the word ‘automaton’ but if you mean an artificial warrior, then yeah. They wanted to make me look fully alive, but, well, time ran out.”

Rowan didn’t know if golems encountered by the Order had ever sounded so sad.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It is what it is. Can’t be moping over stuff that I can’t change,” Astra said with a sad smile. “Better to think of happier things, like getting to meet! Oh, I wish I could hug you. Never got to hug anyone and it looks like fun! Oh, and kissing too. You’ve dreamed of that, right?”

“I beg your pardon?"

“After we got connected, I’ve been having dreams,” Astra explained, seeming to not catch Rowan’s flustered tone. “And some of them have you kissing some guy. Who is he? You know, the one with the wood sword. That’s a bit weird, isn’t it? But magic is weird and I’m weird, so guess I can’t really call that weird. Guess he’s strong if you’re fighting alongside him. Are you together? Or do you want to be?”

“Please, slow down,” Rowan pleaded. “There’s nothing between John and I.”

“John, John,” Astra repeated. “That’s a nice name. Your’s too. And that’s sad. You seem to want something to happen.”

“Life is more complicated than dreams,” Rowan remarked solemnly. “And we have no idea how long this is going to last or how it happened in the first place. Please, if you have anything important to tell us about the war, say it quickly.”

Astra’s expression fell completely for the first time, giddy joy overtaken by a dim morose countenance.

“I, um, don’t really know a lot,” she said. “When I was sent here, the war came to the monastery I was built in. My parents used a teleportation machine to get me to safety and I’ve been alone since. And I don’t really know how long ago that was. I was asleep and don’t know for how long. And the teleporter here is broken and I don’t know how to fix it.”

A heavy weight fell upon Rowan and she wished she could do more than speak. Words were never enough to counter such sadness.

“Perhaps you can show it to me,” she suggested. “I’m not versed in such things, but I could relay what I see to people who might be able to figure something out. I’m sure we can find a way to consistently be in contact.”

She kept herself from saying with clothes on. If she had to bare all to Astra in order to help her escape the temple, either to Earth or elsewhere in Olnaght, she would. No one deserved total isolation.

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense,” Astra said, her mood picking back up. “I’m sure you know all sorts of people! Come on, this way!”

Astra moved to grab Rowan’s arm, stopping only an inch short once she remembered the futility of trying to drag Rowan along. Instead, she skipped past her and headed for one of the larger buildings, one situated up a small rise in elevation.

Rowan followed Astra up a set of worn and crumbling stone stairs, carved from the very ground itself. As they went, Astra rattled off various bits of knowledge she’d picked up during her time here.

“So, when I woke up, I went exploring. There wasn’t any sign of anyone, so I think they left when the mountains started to get too active. I have a vague memory of my parents talking about it,” Astra relayed. “I’m guessing they might have set up the teleporter to break once everyone was gone so anyone trying to get here would be stuck.”

“Why send you here then?” Rowan asked. “I know you said it was to avoid the war, but there had to be better locations. One with people.”

Astra smiled sadly back at Rowan. “They didn’t want me to be used for the war. They thought if I was sent to where others were, they’d want to send me right to the front. My parents wanted me to be able to choose.”

Rowan chewed on her lip. If she did manage to find a way to guide Astra to Earth, she would get pulled into the war, especially if the Forge attacked the Order. She had no way of knowing if Lord Brighton would maintain the alliance with Higaisha, but given the revelations they had received, she expected they would. Things were safer if everyone was working together.

“I’m not sure if the war is going to give you that option,” Rowan remarked in a dour tone.

“Yeah, I know,” Astra said, her tone still upbeat. “But I’d rather help than run away. And you got involved so I’d feel bad if I couldn’t help. And I want to see more of everything. If that means having to fight, I’ll do it.”

“You certainly have an optimistic mindset,” Rowan remarked.

“I was sad when I woke up and read the letter my parents sent with me explaining things, but staying that way isn’t what they would have wanted,” Astra said. “It’s better for me to use my energy for something productive than moping around.”

“Good outlook to have.” Rowan nodded.

“Glad I figured it out.” Astra beamed back at Rowan. “The vibe of this place would be totally worse if I was adding to it. I’d just end up sitting in a corner doing nothing. That would be horrible.”

Rowan couldn’t help but smile at the dwarven girl’s positive outlook. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to maintain such an upbeat attitude in Astra’s place.

Astra kept rattling off random bits of information as she led Rowan into the weathered stone building. At some point, the squire assumed it had been rather impressive: a work of dedication and stalwart resolve in a harsh location. Now, time and the elements had worn away much of that work. Geometric carvings had become pools for water to gather in and freeze, cracking the walls. Tenacious moss and weeds had also begun to claim the stone, finding purchase in those breaks.

The inside was in better condition, but in place of weathering, there was a simple void. There was no furniture, no decorations, no sign of life at all. It somehow seemed colder than the outside.

“You can see why I need to keep my spirits up,” Astra remarked with a grin. “I think when the monks left, they managed to take almost everything with them. Pretty much the same in every building. It’s a good thing I don’t need to eat or I’d be in trouble. Think I was lucky to find my swords.”

Astra led Rowan down the vacant hall to a large, round room. Large windows let the mountain light in, filtering down upon what Rowan thought was once a large and impressive structure. Now it was a wreck, a wide, round black metal platform covered in the remains of some of the pillars that ran along its edge, their pieces scattered all over.

“I tried to get it working, but I’ve got too much fighting in my head, not a lot of magical know-how,” Astra remarked as she approached the teleporter, a hand lightly touching one of the remaining intact pillars.

“It’s not too different from the gateway in the temple,” Rowan muttered as she drew close to the pillar. “Which makes sense. Both involved moving things around.”

“So you think those kin you were working with can figure out how to fix this?” Astra asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

“I think they’ll put their all into it,” Rowan said. Before she could start to more closely examine the device, everything began to grow hazy. Astra began to shout, but her voice was oddly muted and distorted, then everything went black.

“Squire Donnelly, Squire Donnelly!” the soft, but urgent voice of Seer Varnik reached Rowan’s ears and her eyes snapped open. She took a sharp breath, a sudden burning need for air overtaking her.

She was on her back, her skin wet with a cold sweat. Seer Varnik knelt over her, her hand on Rowan’s forehead. Rowan tried to move, but her limbs felt worse than they had been after the fighting, as if her armor had gained one-hundred pounds on each.

“Don’t speak,” Lorelei said in a calm, but firm tone. “I do not know how long you were in that trance, but if it kept going, it may have drained you beyond the point of saving. Thank the Lady she gave me the intuition to check up on you.”

Despite the seer’s cautioning, Rowan had to speak. “I was with her,” she wheezed out.

“I know,” Lorelei said. “I see it reflected in your aura. The mountains, the dwarf whose soul is entwined with yours, the ruined machine. I think as you slipped into sleep, your soul was drawn to your counterpart. But the strain was more than you could handle at the moment, as drained as you are.”

It was a testament to how worn out she was that the remark about her weakness only registered as a minor annoyance. Instead, Rowan asked, “Do you think I can go back?”

“In time, squire,” Lorelei answered. “I do not believe the path has been closed off, but to venture down that road before you are recovered is folly. I believe she will prefer renewed isolation over the risk of your death for her sake.”

“Sounds like her.” Rowan chuckled, the memory of Astra’s optimism strong in her weary mind.

Lorelei muttered a prayer under her breath, then said louder, “Then for her sake, rest. I’m sure your apparition vanished quite suddenly for her. Recover your strength and we can endeavor to reestablish that connection, safely this time.”

Rowan wanted to argue, to protest that she was fine. But the added strain from the astral projection wasn’t something she could work through. But, her stubbornness was something that was hard to put to rest.

“If you are worried about Lord Brighton or Dame Ramirez finding fault in your actions, worry not. I will assure them that your rest was needed and that I insisted upon it,” the seer said, soothing Rowan’s last bit of resistance.

An uneventful sleep took her.