Dual Wielding

Thanks to several quirks of Straetum’s geography, the weather was never too severe in the valley where Corrin and Wyn were born. The storm on the night of the flood had been the largest in years, and most of the time they were blessed with calm winds and regular light rain.

Corrin had been informed however, that this didn’t apply to the rest of the Northern Plateau. Such a wide expanse of relatively flat land and a mixture of warm winds from the west meeting cold air from the north led to the creation of enormous storm systems that blew their way across the plains.

One such storm had begun brewing during their final approach to Cliffside, and by the time they reached the town, it was upon them. Thunder rumbled in the sky, shaking the ground below with all the force of the heavens. The rain started to fall in sheets, soaking Corrin in a matter of moments. The wind tore at his cloak, and without his mana-enhancement, he may have even felt a tad unstable on his feet, such was the power of this storm.

Thankfully, the shelter of Cliffside was just ahead, and they reached the town just as the storm arrived in earnest. At first, Corrin hadn’t understood what the merchants meant. The only building in sight was a sturdy-looking stone structure next to a huge mesa rising up from the ground. Only as they drew closer did he begin to catch on. Dotting the rocky face of the cliff were openings that varied in size from that of a window, all the way up to entire terraces, cut into stone. When he saw a head stick out of one, the realization dawned on him.

The town is inside the cliff!

Unfortunately, the caravan was forced to wait in the rain for several minutes while Trell went into the building to talk to whoever oversaw the entrance; and Wyn followed him. Soon though, Corrin could make out their figures coming through the haze of the rain, splitting off as Trell went to meet the rest of the caravan, while Wyn beelined for where Corrin was waiting.

Wyn shouted something as he approached, but Corrin couldn’t make it out over the howling of the wind.

“What?” He yelled back.

Wyn fought the wind, still shouting as he got only a few inches from Corrin’s face before his voice became audible. “They’ve offered to pay for a room for us! Follow me!”

Corrin started to shout back, but he realized his voice was just getting lost to the wind, so he nodded and trudged after Wyn, pulling his cloak tight. At the base of the cliff, next to the stone building, was a large pair of thick wooden doors reinforced with iron.

They rushed through the doors, which were being held open for the caravan, and entered into a tunnel, leaving the natural light behind them. The spacious stone passageway was lit by dim lightstones on the ceiling which glowed a faint burnt orange. After a few turns the roar of the wind died to a more manageable volume, and without the deafening rainfall, they could finally talk again.

“So, what happened?” Corrin asked.

“Trell paid for our room for the night, as thanks for ‘saving the caravan’.” Wyn said. “They gave me directions to our room, so I’m just following them now.” He pulled a small piece of paper with some scribbled words out of his pocket.

“Ah, well in that case, lead the way.” Corrin took his wet cloak off and sped up to walk besides Wyn.

Eventually, the passage widened even further as they came to what seemed to be the main “road” of the town. It was a bit surreal seeing carts pulled through the tunnels as people milled around, entirely unbothered by the storm outside. The first thing he noticed though was that there were rugs everywhere. While the main road was left as stone, a mishmash of wildly patterned and colored carpets lined the walls, especially in front of the doors which presumably led into houses and buildings.

Rather than signage, the names and markers for different buildings were painted directly onto the stone walls in different colored glowing paints, often adorned with pictures and messy drawings as well. While some of the buildings had windows, giving a view into what appeared to be shops of all kinds, many had none, appearing outwardly as a simple door bored into the stone.

The tunnel lit entirely by the light of amber lightstones which bathed the walls and ceilings in a soft yellow glow, casting the town in a light like sunset. Corrin found himself wondering how familiar they were with the concept of night if the lightstones never faded. He remembered how difficult it had been to judge time in the dungeon, and was curious if something similar happened here, or perhaps they had another way to tell time entirely.

“Let’s hurry up and find the inn! I wanna explore!” Corrin hadn’t initially been happy to stop, but places like this were half the reason he’d been looking forward to the journey.

“Well… if we’re here, then we just need to go—” Wyn wandered off, following the directions. Corrin didn’t realize at first—having been looking around—probably looking like an idiot with his mouth hanging open. He jogged to catch up.

He caught up just as Wyn stopped to ask a local for directions. The man was quite helpful, pointing out the way before bidding them farewell.

“Tunukama guide you!” he said with a warm smile.

“Um… yes, Tunukama guide you as well.” Wyn said awkwardly before they parted.

As the man walked away, Corrin noticed something odd: the man was barefoot. He looked around and finally noticed that the man wasn’t the only one. Almost everyone in the town was walking around without footwear.

“Wyn, have you noticed no one is wearing any shoes?”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? Maybe it has to do with the rugs somehow? I’m assuming it’s just a weird cultural thing.”

“That’s awesome. Hey, should I take mine off? Yeah, I’m going to.” Corrin bent down and started pulling off his boots.

“Go for it.” Wyn chuckled, and thus Corrin continued the walk barefoot.

A good ten minutes later, they’d found the inn they were supposed to stay at and made their way to their room. It was a comfortable enough place, especially considering the walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of the same stone. They’d spruced it up a bit though. Just like the rest of the buildings they’d seen, almost every inch of floor was covered in rugs, roughly connected to create a patchwork surface that he was beginning to think demarcated what was indoors as opposed to outdoors.

Honestly Corrin was a fan. It seemed like some people had a fun time with the designs, with wild patterns that both clashed and blended in different ways. Some were as simple as a single color, while others were tapestries covered in art.

The innkeeper was a woman a bit older than Wyn’s mother, and she was counting coins behind the counter when the two of them arrived.

“Excuse me,” Wyn said. “We’re here for a room? I was told to give you this note.”

The woman took the note and read it once before smiling. “Trell is here? That’s wonderful, it’s been too long since I’ve seen that boy. It seems your rooms are taken care of, so please allow me to show you to them.”

“Thank you Eldress.” Wyn bowed slightly, and Corrin followed suit.

She seemed to stand a little straighter at that and gestured for them to follow her. She walked into a tunnel—lit by lanterns instead of lightstones. “Where are you boys traveling from?”

“We’re on our way from Straetum to Taravast.” Wyn said.

It didn’t seem to faze her much. “A long journey indeed. Well, you must be tired. You chose the right place to stay in that case. This is the best inn in Cliffside.”

“And why might that be?” Corrin asked curiously.

The woman turned, grinning at them. “Our special hot springs! They’re guaranteed to burn the exhaustion right out of you!”

Wyn chuckled, but the woman just smiled wider. “You’ll see. Ah here we are.”

They reached a dark wooden door, and the woman opened it with a large bronze key which she then handed to Wyn.

“Try not to make too much of a mess, I know how you young men can be. And check out the hot springs once you get the chance, you won’t regret it. Just follow the tunnel down to the end and you’ll find them. If you need anything I’ll be back at the front. Tunukama guide you.”

Who is this Tunukama? Corrin wondered.

They nodded, thanking the woman as she walked back down the tunnel the way they’d come.

The floor in their room was covered with two large rugs: a swirling blue and white carpet—which made Corrin think of a flowing river—with a low cut, and a longer white rug, covered in black characters that seemed to read as a poem about a great spirit, though the character for its name wasn’t one he recognized—it read like “important dirt mover”, which he found funny. The colors and designs were so discordant they looped back around to being harmonious. Corrin tried to read the whole poem, but other than the odd name, it was a bit dull.

Cool design though.

The rest of the room was comfortably furnished, a dark wooden desk was lit by soft glowing crystals and a single window which looked out over the main road, with curtains that could be drawn for privacy. There was a single bed, but it was large enough that it wasn’t really a problem. They’d slept in the same bed before when they were younger and Corrin had stayed the night, and neither of them were prudish—though Wyn was a huge blanket hog.

After setting down their packs and relaxing for a bit with some card games from the single set they’d packed, they decided to go check out the hot springs that the innkeeper had mentioned. Two doors sat at the back of the room leading outside—presumably to the springs, one for men and one for women.

Corrin heard a sputtering sound from behind them, and turned to see Kei standing a few feet away, wearing a bathing robe and holding a towel.

“Hey princess, are you here for a swim too?” Corrin asked.

She coughed, clearing her throat, “Yes my lords, I’m just on my way to the springs now, if you’ll excuse—”

“The lady at the front mentioned something was special about them so I’m excited to see if it’s true. Can you believe this town though? It’s crazy right? Ooh what are the rugs like in your room?”

“They’re red and purple,” she said quickly. “And—yes, the town is quite interesting. I’ll be going now.”

“Have a good time!” Corrin ran ahead into the men’s area and froze, the light wooden door closing behind him. The woman had been exactly right, these really were special hot springs. They were open to the air in the back, giving a clear view of the plateau below and in the distance. The storm—Corrin had almost forgotten about it in the quiet of the caves—was in full view as rain relentlessly fell on roughly half of the water as the back side of the room simply opened into a sort of terrace. The springs themselves seemed to be mostly natural, slight depressions in the ground with raised walls of stone that had probably been polished by human hands. In the middle, separating the men from women’s baths was a wooden wall about fifteen feet tall.

Just before the hot springs proper was a smaller bathing section to clean off before getting into the communal water. Several buckets were filled with water, and soap rested on shelves to allow for quick and easy washing.

Scrubbing off several day’s travel of built-up sweat and grime felt incredible. While he and Wyn bathed when they could on the trip, sometimes it just didn’t work out. And the last few days in particular had left him feeling dirty. Soon though, he was feeling refreshed. He poured the bucket over his head to rinse off before charging the hot springs and jumping into the water with a splash.

“Corrin, are you illiterate?” Wyn yelled as his friend surfaced. He wiped the water from his face and realized Wyn was pointing towards a sign.

No running.

No diving.

No swimming.

Oh. Corrin whistled innocently as he began to backstroke across the water, heading towards the storm. He broke the cover, and the rain began to pelt his face. He stood up, letting it hit the top of his head instead, creating an interesting sensation of cold water above and hot below. A short windbreak at the back of the room kept the worst of the wind off them, leaving only the downpour of rain, which trickled over the edge of the pool and into a trench which carried it off somewhere in the settlement. Compared to how it had felt outside, the storm felt smaller than it had before.

After a while of swimming around in the rain—surely the owner wouldn’t mind since the rain was already thrashing the water on its own—he swam back towards where Wyn lounged on the edge of the pool. They relaxed for a bit, enjoying the heat of the water until another figure emerged from the bathing area that they hadn’t noticed.

It was Trell, the supposed leader of the caravan. He’d been mostly out of commission since Corrin and Wyn had arrived, having been beaten to a pulp by Din Kai before they arrived, but he’d very recently recovered enough to walk around again. The only indication that he saw them there was a grunt, and the slight nod of his head before he walked over to a nearby lantern, taking out the candle from inside and using it to light a pipe. Once he seemed satisfied with how it was burning, he put the candle back, and eased himself into the water across the pool from them. A relaxed smile stretched across his scarred and still-swollen face as he settled beneath the surface.

He took a deep pull from the pipe before sighing and looking over towards them. “I should thank you two for pulling my ass out of the fire, now that I’m finally back on my feet.”

“It’s no problem,” Wyn said. “I only wish we could’ve made it sooner.”

“Nonetheless, I appreciate it. I’m not sure what’s harder to believe though, us running into Din Kai on The Plateau of all places, or that we were saved by two kids that could actually stop him. You two are from Straetum right?” He took another pull and blew the smoke off to the side. “You may not know, but that man you killed has been attacking caravans in and around The Grass Sea for years now. There’s a bounty on his head for around ten gold marks at Precipice.”

“Spirits! Gold marks? Not silver?” Corrin turned to Wyn, “Do we have any proof we did it?”

Wyn shook his head, frowning.

“Don’t sweat it kid,” Trell laughed. “One of my guys was cognizant enough to grab his weapon, and since you captured two of his men, there shouldn’t be any problems since the reports of his attacks will stop coming in.”

“That’s great! I’d be happy to split the bounty with your caravan considering the damage—” Corrin started, but Trell raised a hand, cutting him off.

“The bounty is yours. I couldn’t scratch him, so you two can have all the honor. And to be honest, he and I have a bit of a history, so I’m just happy the old bastard is finally dead. If you don’t mind though, I’d like to ask you boys a few questions.”

“What do you want to know?” Corrin asked, curious.

“Is it true what my men are saying? You’re trying to become Spirit Knights?”

“That we are,” Wyn said. “Though Taravast is still a long way off.”

Trell nodded. “No kidding. Though you’re off to a damn good start from what I can tell. I’ve got to admit I’m curious, who taught you how to fight like that? I was barely conscious and only woke up towards the end, but for a pair of supposed country boys, you fight unbelievably well.”

Corrin puffed his chest a bit. “We had mentors back in Straetum, but mostly we were self-taught, we surpassed them when we were like, fourteen, I think? Honestly most of our time was spent training to fight monsters, not humans.”

Trell balked. “You mean you learned how to fight like that, on your own?”

“Yeah, is that weird?” Corrin asked.

“It’s more than weird. Din Kai has been a scourge in this area, leading that group for around twenty years now. He would’ve been part of the crew before then, fighting real battles, killing knights. And you two beat him with no real training? That’s unheard of!”

“Nice.”

“Nice?” Trell said incredulously.

“Yeah, nice. That must mean we’re strong right?”

Trell laughed once, his face contorting into one of disbelief. Then it seemed to break as he began laughing even harder. “You two are something else. I might fear you if you didn’t have such a dumb look on your face when you said that!”

“It’s his natural state.” Wyn explained.

“Hey!”

“You really are a couple of country boys huh,” Trell laughed, wiping a tear. “You’re absurdly strong, or perhaps talented is a better word. I’ve met some people that could give you a run for your money from what I’ve seen, but none so young.”

Corrin leaned back against the wall. “That’s good to hear. Seems like we’re on the right track then.”

“Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?” Trell asked. “I assume you two don’t know too much about the rest of the world if you’re from Straetum.”

“We’ll take it as it comes. The adventure’s most fun that way.” Corrin said. “Oh, actually though, I do have one.”

“Ask away.”

“Who the hell is Tunukama?”

“Ah the worm.”

“The worm?” Wyn repeated.

“It’s a spirit they worship around here. Now I’ve never seen him, but supposedly he’s the one who dug all the big tunnels. I can’t tell if it’s actually a spirit either, or just some sort of weird spirit beast. I’ve asked around before, and no matter how horrified they seem when I say he’s a worm, every description I’ve gotten is just that: A giant worm.”

“Wait so they’re all just trying to give me the blessing of a giant worm?” Wyn said, looking around the room as if imagining how it was made. “What about the smaller tunnels?”

“Well, I know for a fact some of them were mined out by people. And plenty of the bigger rooms were as well. But some of them were supposedly dug by the children of Tunukama, whatever that means. Some of the newer or deeper passages are unstable, so they don’t let outsiders go down them. Everybody here is born with the blessing of stone singing though, so it’s not a danger to them. It’s also the only reason I assume there’s some truth to their great spirit thing.”

“Everyone?” Wyn asked, shocked. “And what does that blessing do?”

“They can sense the structure and composition of stone they’re touching within a short radius. I’ve even met a couple people that can mold solid rock like clay with their hands. Though I’m not sure if that’s a different blessing or not.”

“Amazing!” Corrin said. “And everyone here has it?”

“Aye, those that were born here at least.” Trell took another pull from his pipe. “They call it a blessing from Tunukama. Though I suppose they’re probably right.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing this Tunukama,” Wyn mused. “I’ve met a great spirit before, but they appeared human. So, I wonder if there’s a difference.”

Trell shrugged. “That’s one more great spirit than I’ve ever met, so I couldn’t say. But I still think it’s a large spirit beast, and the blessings just come from some other factor. I mean, everyone here is technically born underground, maybe that’s it. I’m no mage though so what do I know.”

“How long are you planning on staying here Trell?” Wyn asked.

“Through the night or through the storm, whichever lasts longer. The young mistress has paid us to take her to Precipice, and I know plenty of the young guys are excited to sell their goods there. But she’s in a hurry so we won’t delay here for too long. Just enough to resupply and regroup. Will you two be staying with us the rest of the way?”

Wyn glanced over at Corrin. Corrin just shrugged, trying to give him a look that projected the message of Why are you looking at me? You’re in charge of the plans.

“Seems that way,” Wyn finally said. “No reason for us not to after all as long as you’ll have us.”

Trell smiled. “That makes me feel safer already. I lost a lot of men in that attack, so the security is appreciated. I look forward to working with you both.” He held out his hand, and both of them shook it in turn.

“Great!” The merchant said. “Now how about we celebrate this new partnership? I know a great place to eat, have you ever had rock clam?”

They shook their heads, Corrin had never heard of such a food.

“You’re going to love it. My treat. Doesn’t free food taste the best of all?”

He was completely right. So, neither of them raised a complaint. All three got out of the water and headed off to fill their stomachs.