Still invisible, she ran to the room listed on the map and soon was inside, digging through a trunk in the back corner. Taeben’s initiate robes were in the chest, and Ellie took a moment to press her face into the green and velvety fabric and inhale deeply. Usually, the sweet aroma that seemed to follow the high elf would have turned her stomach a bit, but this belonged to her A’chrya, and she missed him so desperately that she almost burst into tears. Instead, Ellie carefully folded the robes and placed them in the trunk before continuing to look for his journals. Ultimately she found them, their leather covers cool and smooth under her fingers, bound up in a leather strap at the very bottom of the trunk. Ellie just gawked at the journals for a moment or two, unable to pick them up. Chiding herself again, she reached into the trunk and removed the journals, tucking them quickly into her robes. Ellie rechecked the hallway and upon finding it empty, cast a quick spell of transportation that would take her to the Outpost. She hugged the journals to her chest tightly as she disappeared in a ring of magical fire.
The grass in the Outpost came up under her feet suddenly, and once again, she felt her head swimming. Perhaps it was time to see one of the healers at one of the guild houses. Her kind only believed in medicine if it was to save the life of a warrior in battle or bring a new life into the world. None of the healers in the embassy would see her for a little dizziness. Ellie wandered along from the wizard spire and soon found herself in front of the Fabled Ones Great Hall. This had been Taeben’s guild, once. She wondered if there were any Ikedrians inside, as she was sure she had seen every other race of Orana enter and leave the building.
Before she even realized what she was doing, Ellie’s hand was pressed against the heavy door to the Great Hall, and she took a startled step backward. “Watch it, inker,” came a gruff voice from behind her. “Places to go, things to kill.” She spun to respond to the racial slur but stopped when she saw the amount of armor and weapons on the dwarf that was staring at her curiously. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said that—can you hear me? Oi! Girl! Move!” His green armor seemed the color of the grass, and she could swear that was dried blood on his axe blade and handle. She took a step back, and he passed her, cursing under his breath, and then slammed a meaty hand against the door to the Great Hall.
Nothing happened. “What the?” The dwarf picked his hand up and looked at his palm, then carefully replaced it against the door. This time, Ellie could see that he was tripping tiny locks that were made into the engraving on the door. Clever, very clever. He pushed the door again and still, nothing. “Lovely, just bloody lovely. How am I supposed to catch up with Sath if I can’t get into the hall to get the map he’s left me? I don’t even know where they are anyway,” he muttered under his breath as he turned around. His countenance softened as he saw Ellie, who was still gaping at him. “Sorry for scaring you there, flower. You all right, then? No excuse for rudeness.”
“It’s all right,” she said. Ellie was not accustomed to speaking the common tongue—her parents and brother had forbidden it at home. The dwarf clapped her on the shoulder, almost sending her sprawling forward, muttering angrily as he left about the locks being changed. She thought she heard him say only Gin and Sath could change them. Ellie grinned wildly despite herself—if only the Rajah and the Nature Walker could affect the locks and they suddenly wouldn’t work, that was more proof that if not dead, they were trapped in the Void. Her day was just getting better and better. She turned to be on her way back to the embassy when one of the blackouts hit—but this time, she was alert throughout.
Everything was dark all around her, but she could still hear and smell and feel—she just could not speak or see. Expecting pain from falling down the stairs, she was startled at the sensation of standing up and walking—in what direction she could not say. She could feel the ground under her feet as they walked, only she was not moving them. Ellie fought against the scream that was trying desperately to escape her by paying attention to every detail she could. Her toe hit a root. Someone said hello to her, and she heard herself answer! Inhaling sharply, she caught the scent of fresh bread and recognized it as a small bread stand near the embassy. Her embassy! She was at least headed in the right direction.
She tried to flex her fingers and cried out silently as a mild electric shock coursed through her hand. It was not unlike touching the magic ropes back home, the ones she had been warned against as a child. Still moving, she felt the ground under her feet change from the soft grass and gravel terrain of the Outpost to the hard marble floors inside the embassy. Another inhale, and she could make out the incense that the ambassador kept burning in the sconces on the walls—the scent was said to be a favorite of Father Ikara. At least she was in the correct embassy. The smooth floor changed to stairs, and she could feel the cold marble walls under her fingers as her body climbed the spiral staircase that led to her quarters. Was this what happened every time she had a fainting spell? Someone else—something else took control of
