Edge Cases

156 - Book 3: Chapter 21: Interlude - Velykos - Graveyard

156 - Book 3: Chapter 21: Interlude - Velykos - Graveyard

Velykos stared.

It was rare, really, that he experienced anything he found difficult to explain. He had been alive for a long, long time, and had experienced almost everything that could be experienced.

The chill he felt now, though? That was new to him.

The fact that none of Harold's crew had anything to say was equally strange, and left him feeling even more unsettled. Ixiss and Iliss in particular almost always had a witty rejoinder, and yet even they

"What the fuck," Iliss said plainly.

Oh. Well, there it was.

Honestly, that made him feel a little better.

Velykos stood in the remains of the quarry he'd gained his First Form in. The memories of that were fuzzy, as it was for all elementals; he remembered the moment he first understood that he was seeing, the moment he first realized he could interact with the world around him.

By far the memory that stood out the most was of the old daemon that had appeared one day, looking for small rocks to carve.

He'd watched in curiosity, at first, and then ever-increasing fascination as the quarry he lived in was transformed into a thing of beauty. The daemon never took his carvings with him he left them there like an offering to the quarry itself.Updated from

That was around when he'd learned he could speak, and he'd reached out to learn. That was around when their relationship had gone from artist and curious watcher to father and child. The daemon had taught him... almost everything he now knew about the world.

And yet he couldn't remember his name. That should have been the first sign, he supposed.

"This is the guy you were talking about, right?" Ixiss asked him, his voice hesitant. "Your father."

"Yes," Velykos said. He stared at the gravestone in front of him.

At the gravestones in front of him.

It had seemed strange enough at a distance, that there was a monument rising up into the air above the quarry Velykos remembered no such monument when he left, though that was centuries ago (centuries? centuries didn't seem quite right; this world was only two hundred years old, and he was not as old as this world).

He remembered leaving and taking only a few souvenirs with him, things that the daemon had carved and left behind (but where had he kept them? he had no such keepsakes with him, not anymore).

Velykos remembered mourning, wandering (had he not left a monument for his father when he left? that seemed strange, now. surely he would have created something to dedicate to him, as meaningful as the daemon had been to him).

"Vel?" Harold's voice was sharp, concerned. Velykos shook his head, stumbling forward; a heavy hand pressed against the obelisk in front of him, brushing away some of the dirt and dust obscuring the name.

Onyx.

He'd never heard the name. (the name seemed familiar, though; it pressed into his mind like an imprint left on dirt and scuffed away, smoothed over but not quite gone).

He'd never heard the name. He'd never heard the name

"Vel!" Harold's voice pulled him back like an anchor. Velykos stepped back quickly, nearly tripping over his allies in the process. Olag and Nathan, bless them, acted quickly enough to steady him before he outright fell.

This was familiar (it was too familiar, in fact. it had happened before, hadn't it? except the last time something fundamental to his elemental magic had been disrupted, and he'd placed protections in place, since then).

(it was so hard to think)

"Vel, look at me." Harold's voice was steady. The skeleton stood in front of him suddenly. Velykos didn't remember when he moved, or when he'd been propped up against the obelisk that acted as a gravestone. He couldn't help but stare out at the sea of other gravestones, laid out in front of him.

There was a very obvious first question. His memories told him that Onyx had simply left; if that was the case, then the gravestones here meant nothing, and were mere monuments to someone he had lost. It wouldn't explain why there were so many of them, but it would be better than the alternative.

The alternative, of course, being the possibility that Onyx was buried here.

Except he couldn't be. Onyx was Sev's god he could remember that much clearly, now. God didn't have bodies, as far as he knew.

There was really only one way to find out.

[Earth Sense] was a passive skill he could toggle on and off; he kept it mostly off, largely because the amount of information he gained from it tended to be distracting and unnecessary. The skill was far stronger than it had to be, and he had no way to adjust the strength of it.

He toggled it on and reeled.

"Something wrong?" Harold called up to him, and Velykos shook his head, holding up a hand to tell the captain to give him a moment. He needed a second to parse what he was seeing. To verify.

He needed to be sure.

Because what [Earth Sense] was telling him was that there were dozens of identical bodies in the graveyard, one under each gravestone. Each one in the exact same stage of decay. Each one undeniably the man that had helped raise him.

Except that didn't make sense.

"The graves are all full," he said softly.

"What?" Iliss asked. She looked around, her bones rattling slightly with the seed at which she whipped her head towards the nearest gravestone; she nudged a toe towards the dirt before hesitating and stopping. "That... can't be right."

"Forty-nine bodies in total," Velykos said. His words felt almost distant. "They are exactly the same, every one of them. I... I do not understand."

"Shit," Harold breathed.

The six of them stared at the quarry-graveyard in a new light, a chill settling over all of them. Nathan shivered a little, and hugged himself closer to Olag, who put an arm around his shoulder to steady him.

The wind blew over them.

"I did not want to do this," Velykos muttered. His voice was the low rumble of earth and stone once more the most alien it had been for months. It was easy to emulate mortals when his emotions were calm or positive, as they usually were around this group that he had come to consider close friends.

But when he felt like this, the thought of it just fell away. "It feels... disrespectful. But it may be necessary to dig up one of the bodies, to see if there is something to be observed that my [Earth Sense] cannot spot."

"Are ye sure?" Harold asked. "We're with you all the way, don't get me wrong, but..."

"I am not," Velykos said. "But it is the only idea I have."

It was easy, even. A simple application of [Earth Manipulation] and Onyx's body could be brought to the surface without disturbing it; another one, and he could be buried once more, with not a single trace left for anyone to see except perhaps another elemental like himself. Yet it felt wrong, almost disgraceful to have to do something like this...

...perhaps a small prayer to Nillea first, so he would know he was doing the right thing. A small prayer to Aurum, for his assistance in dealing with whatever strange influence had come over him when he first encountered this graveyard.

And a small prayer to Onyx, to ask for permission.

He felt a ghost of a whisper from Nillea; approval, kindness, sympathy. He felt a brightness from Aurum; excitement and pride, along with a small inkling of sorrow.

From Onyx, he felt nothing.

He hadn't expected a response, but something inside him ached, nonetheless.