Taste of Magic: Ambassador's Voice

Alistair sighed deeply. He was so close to reaching the Architect, but yet another hurdle was put in his path. Perhaps it was because he didn't sleep well with all the wyrms scuttling around at night, but he felt a bit irritated. He just wanted to get rid of these damned visions and return to Sunglow.

"So, how do we choose a path forward?" Elowen asked, staring at each tunnel in turn. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"I don't know. Do you hear anything?" Alistair asked, wondering if perhaps enhanced elven senses could help them this time, too. Elowen peered into each tunnel in turn, and Alistair could see his ears perk up as he listened.

"I don't hear anything, but this tunnel on the right seems to have air flowing from it."

Alistair walked up to the tunnel, and indeed, there was a slight breeze coming from it. "Perhaps we should go here."

"Wouldn't it lead us to someplace outside?" Elowen questioned.

"It could, but if it becomes obvious that it's the wrong path, we could circle back. But I believe it would be crucial to follow the different tunnel."

"I suppose we might as well."

So they followed the path on the right, a fresh breeze getting increasingly more noticeable the deeper they went. Soon they exited into another chamber, which had another three tunnels to choose from.

"Oh, no… This might be a maze. Probably a magical one at that," Elowen grumbled.

"Magical? It doesn't seem any different from any regular cave."

"Not on the surface, but it could be changing as we traverse through it, leading us astray."

"But there must be a way through."

"If we manage to follow the clue or find a way to disable the magic at hand, then we might get through. For now, we have no choice but to choose another path."

Alistair examined the tunnels carefully. This time, each one was subtly different. One was barren and smelled of mold—he didn't want to take that one. The other one had darker walls as if charred by fire. The last one had a bit of moss growing on the walls.

"Let's go this way," Elowen and Alistair spoke up at the same time. However, the elf was pointing at the charred entrance while Alistair pointed at the mossy one. They paused.

"Why that one?" Alistair asked.

"It seems like someone has been there before. Maybe they charred the walls to mark the right path."

"They might have as well marked the wrong path. I think we should go here."

"Why?"

"I-I don't know. I just have this strong feeling in my gut. I can't explain it better than that."

Elowen frowned and peered into the tunnel. He didn't seem to like the idea of going into the mossy tunnel, but after looking at Alistair, he conceded. "Very well. If you're feeling so strongly about it, then I won't argue."

So they continued walking through the maze, passing one crosspoint after the next. After having passed through seven such crosspoints, Alistair felt a bit of hopelessness seeping in. Were they already lost? Would they keep wandering these tunnels forever, unable to find the proper way forward? He wasn't sure if he remembered the proper way back.

But then the scenery changed. Bright light came from the end of the tunnel, and both men began to run. Before long, they found themselves in a ginormous illuminated cavern. Naturally illuminated since the top of the cavern had a clear view of the blue skies.

Various lush plants grew in it, and animals and monsters alike roamed around it. Alistair wondered whether he should reach for the sword, but it didn't seem appropriate. The swamp boars were peacefully grazing next to deer while whistlewisps flew around the air, releasing their gentle song.

At the center of this underground paradise was a small hill upon which there was what could be described as a shrine. It was small, white, and made out of what looked like marble. Colorful flower vines stretched around its walls, and at the very center of it sat a creature unlike any other.

It was vaguely humanoid in shape, but its skin looked as if it were made from marbled quartz. It had six arms, each pair seemingly made from a different material. One pair looked to be made from metal, the second pair looked to be made from tree bark and vines, and the third from mist, appearing ethereal and untouchable.

"It's the Architect…" Elowen muttered in awe, staring at the creature.

Alistair couldn't avert his gaze. He wanted to go closer, but at the same time felt unworthy to do so.

"You've come far to meet me, echoing ones," the Architect spoke in a voice that was male and female, childish and old. Yet it wasn't grating but rather melodious. Despite the distance, it felt like it was speaking right next to them, and it didn't seem loud like yelling either. "Come closer."

Both of them obeyed instantly, walking through the lush grass. Alistair felt like he was defiling the place with his metal armor. He stepped carefully, trying not to destroy any of the beautiful flowers.

As he got closer to the Architect, he saw that it had no distinct facial features. Or rather, that they were changing all the time. One moment they appeared feminine, then he blinked and they looked masculine. He blinked again, and they changed once more. Oddly enough, the transition was never jarring, but smooth and seamless. He also noticed that the Architect was floating in his shrine, its marbled toes just a few centimeters above the floor.

"We are honored to meet you, Voice of the System," Elowen said, bowing low to the Architect. Alistair bowed too, but the creature lifted one of its many arms, indicating that there was no need for that.

"I am no God. Please, raise your heads," the Architect said. "I am most pleased by your arrival. I was hoping that at least one of the echoed ones would find me, but it appears I was blessed, as two of you have come."

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"Echoed ones?" Alistair asked. That seemed like an odd way to address somebody.

"You'll understand when time is due," the Architect said and motioned them to move closer. "Let me see how far you've come."

Elowen stepped forward without hesitation, but Alistair was a bit more reluctant. The Architect placed its left tree hand on the elf's head and right metallic hand on Alistair's head. It felt cool, but strangely light. He had expected it to weigh him down, but it was no heavier than a feather.

After a minute of silence, it removed its hand and frowned. "Shame. You still do not remember much. Both of you have been secluded from the crucial events."

"Don't remember much? What does it mean? Are you talking about my skill ?"

"The very same. But its rank is still too low," the Architect shook his head disapprovingly.

Alistair felt somewhat peeved by this response. This skill had caused him nothing but trouble, yet the Architect claims that its rank is too low. "I've come to meet you to remove this skill! It's been plaguing me day and night."

"Do not be disrespectful!" Elowen snarled. Alistair knew that he was being rude, but he was almost at his wits' end with all of this mystery. It felt like he was going to go crazy.

"It is fine. I understand the frustration you must feel, although I am saddened to hear that you wish to turn away from the past."

"Turn away from the past? Are the visions I see memories?" Alistair asked. Elowen listened intently—no doubt the question had been burning within him as well.

"It was your past, and it could be your future, if you tread down the same path as before. What you see is not fate, but a scar of what once was and of what could be."

Alistair couldn't understand it. How could something be the past and the future? It didn't make any sense.

"Of course, I could remove the skill if it bothers you so much. But before you decide, will you allow me to show an echo?"

"I will abide by your will, mighty Architect," Elowen agreed instantly.

"You mean show me another vision?" Alistair asked. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see it. He already saw them often enough without anybody forcing them on him. He wanted them to stop.

But perhaps it would be wise to agree. While the Architect seems rather magnanimous, it wouldn't be wise to challenge such a powerful being. I'll abide by its will and hope that it will grant my request once I've satisfied it.

"Yes. If you do not wish to keep the skill after that, I shall delete it."

Elowen glared at Alistair when the Architect said that, but Alistair ignored the elf. "Very well."

The Architect extended his hands towards each of them again, but this time kept them above their heads instead of directly touching.

Alistair felt himself grow a bit drowsy, and the next moment he was thrust into a scene.

He was inside some ancient ruins, walking through a corridor while Melina was walking next to him, studying the various glyphs on the walls.

"We're close. I'm sure of it," she said, her voice somewhat raspy. She was much older and looked a bit disheveled. Her vibrant blue eyes had lost some of their spark, although a desperate flame still burned.

Suddenly, a loud noise erupted from behind them, and the wall behind them collapsed.

"They found us! Run!" Melina went into a full sprint, and Alistair followed, briefly glancing over his shoulder. Men dressed in armor chased after them, screaming all sorts of profanities.

"Kill the witch! Avenge our world!"

The rage burning in their eyes completely destroyed all reason. There was no way to speak with them. But as they ran forward, Alistair knew that if Melina got caught, it would all be over. She had to survive no matter the price.

So he stopped and turned to face their enemies.

"Alistair, what are you doing?" Melina shrieked and stopped, too.

"Don't stop! Keep going!" He said, activating the skill. It was at the highest level, so he knew it could hold back the attacks for a decently long time.

"Your shield won't hold forever."

"It just needs to hold long enough," Alistair said with a cheeky smile. "Now go! Find the piece of the ritual."

Melina looked on the verge of tears. She didn't want to leave him, he could tell, so he urged her once more. "Go!"

She bit into her lip so hard that it started to bleed, but she ran away. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I know you will…" he whispered and turned to face his enemies. They were already bashing against his shield, trying to take down his defenses. But he will defend her until the very end.

The vision flashed for a moment, as if someone was speeding it along. He saw his shield crumbling away. Then he saw himself fighting and slashing with all his might. He saw himself getting stabbed, impaled, and battered with arrows. But still he stood, fighting above and beyond his capabilities. As long as Melina survived, nothing else mattered.

Finally, the flashing stopped, and he saw Melina return from the cavern, running as fast as her legs could carry her. Tears were dripping down her face, and she was covered in bruises from head to toe. But she was alive, and it was all that mattered.

He allowed himself to fall. She managed to catch him at the last moment, but fell down to the ground with him, cushioning his fall. "You'll be fine! I'll find a potion. I'm sure one of these men had one. Just hold on for a moment longer."

"Melina," he whispered, reaching his bloody hand up to wipe the stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. "It's fine."

"NO! NO! Don't you dare to die!" She shrieked, frantically clutching onto him. But he knew he was beyond repair at this point. But even so, he felt happy.

"Carry on, Melina. I know you can do it. I…" He wanted to say something more, but blood filled his mouth and he couldn't utter the words anymore.

Alistair gasped in shock as the vision ended. He backed away from the Architect. "I… Was that—?"

It was by far the longest and clearest vision he had seen. Not only did he see the image, but he felt his emotions at that moment. He felt the pain, the same one he had felt when first appeared on his profile.

Elowen seemed to come out of a similar state, although he looked more perplexed rather than shocked.

"What was that?" Alistair was still shaken. He didn't expect an answer. He saw it with his own eyes that he had died for Melina's sake. To allow her to find a piece of a ritual. Although that seemed more like an excuse at the time. He felt how his past self wanted nothing more than to keep her alive, even if it meant dying.

"I cannot tell you anything more. You are not ready yet," the Architect said solemnly. Alistair wanted to object at first, but then relented. His head was spinning, sharp throbbing pain permeating through his skull.

"Please, answer me this, honored Architect. What I saw—has it happened?"

"I've already answered this question," the creature hummed. It looked less energetic somehow. As if projecting these visions had taken a lot of effort. "I've already told you more than I should have."

Elowen nodded, seeming a bit disappointed but not daring to argue with the being. It was at that moment that Alistair realized something. He saw these visions. Elowen saw these visions. But surely they weren't the only ones who saw them.

He then thought back on his interactions with Melina. How she always seemed to know the answer. How she could tame an ember wyrm and stabilize a portal to the Monster Realm. There was absolutely no way an orphan girl, even with the System, could accomplish something like that. No way unless she had prior knowledge.

Melina must have a similar skill. She must remember the past. It all makes sense. She wrote the letter to help me find the Architect because she already knew where to find one. She had already lived through these events. Or will we live through them? I'm still not sure how it all works, but one thing I know for sure. I want to understand what exactly happened.

"So have you decided, echoed one? Do you wish to delete the skill ? Do take into account that I'll have to delete the memories of our encounter then as well."