FINALIZED: “AraMente to Pyrah”
author: @nemisis1509 Beta/Edited: closed (Beta by @sinkingmyships) Episode: 23 (Aramente to Pyrah) Summary: With the aid of her friends, Keyleth conquers the fire plane. Vox Machina emerges from the soot and ash, a little worse for wear, but glad to have made it out.
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~The air howls, hot and harsh over the blackened and petrified trees of the Cindergrove. Two Druids in makeshift brown and red leathers wait, eyes narrowed against the whistling, shrieking, cinder-filled wind that spews upwards from the pool of lava that holds a portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire in the centre of the Grove. Their vigil is rewarded when a motley crew of figures- one, three, five, finally ten- explode outwards and upwards from the centre of the portal. Most of them land easily, but the bow-wielding half-elven woman and the red-scaled dragonborn crash into each other in midair and tumble down to the dusty ground, landing in an unceremonious heap.~
The blazing, vicious cinderstorm that Vox Machina and their Fire Ashari escort had been fleeing was still spilling through the portal, but healer Pike’s first priority was the wounds everyone had received during Keyleth’s test. One tiny, ash-covered hand closed around the ever-present symbol of Sarenrae that hung around Pike’s neck, and the cleric’s whispered prayer drifted on the air to the ears of the injured. The healer’s small, gnomish form glowed with a golden light for the briefest of moments, as did the bodies of Vox Machina, and together they voiced a sigh of relief as their wounds closed and their burns healed.
The portal to the Fire Plane closed abruptly, choking off the hot, sooty clouds spewing from its mouth, the black fumes dissipating. In the silence, Cerkonos, Headmaster of the Fire Ashari, walked slowly forward and extended a hand to Keyleth as she sat on the ashy ground. For a moment, the Flamespeaker just stood, a stern and unyielding look in his dark eyes. Then Cerkonos spoke.
“You. You have the blessing of the Pyrah behind you.” The corners of the Flamespeaker’s mouth twitched upwards at the interruption of exhausted cheers that erupted from Vox Machina, and Keyleth’s own lips curved in a smile, part in relief, part in weary pride. “Go forth. Continue your AraMente, knowing we acknowledge your wisdom and ability.”
Exhausted, Keyleth voiced her gratitude. “That you, Cerkonos. Brother,” she said. The Druid reached out to grasp the Flamespeaker’s hand in midair, and with one powerful movement, Cerkonos pulled Keyleth to her feet. Cerkonos’ beckoned with his other hand and a nod to one of the Druids that had been keeping watch. The Fire Ashari stepped forward, offering Keyleth an orb of rough, black stone with fiery red veins of pulsing energy that seemed to move even the Cindergrove’s subdued light. Keyleth accepted it, and her breath caught in her throat as it’s magic, hot and heavy, pulsed against her palms.
“This is a Spark Stone,” Cerkonos said. “Rare, within the realm you just escaped; we’ve harvested but a handful over generations, as few have returned with them. This one is yours, Keyleth, to use yourself or bequeath to an ally. When crushed by the hands of one, their fists shall burn with the fury of an Efreet.” Jaws dropped among the party; this was a princely gift. Seemingly without thought, Vex spoke up, her eyes locked on the orb between Keyleth’s palms.
“For how long?” Cerkonos’ eyes moved across, and he remained silent for a moment; then the Flamespeaker seemed to remember that Keyleth, whom he now honoured, called this occasionally impertinent half-elf “sister”.
“For as long as you wish,” the Headmaster replied. “The choice is yours to whom this blessing is given.” Keyleth’s fingers curled around the Stone. For the Fire Ashari to give up such a precious and rare artifact…
“Thank you. This is a great honour,” Keyleth said simply. The younger Druid held the elder’s gaze for a long moment before Cerkonos turned to look at the rest of the group.
“Well,” the Headmaster said, “you are welcome to stay as long as you wish before you must continue on your journey.”
“I think a rest might be in order,” Keyleth sighed. “I’m exhausted.” Noises of agreement filled the air from the other members of Vox Machina agreed to rest with the Fire Ashari, and Grog wondered aloud if they could have graham crackers and chocolate.
“And also a lot of water,” Vex'ahlia panted, fanning herself theatrically with one hand.
“Water would be lovely,” Percy commented dryly as he put his mask away.
“Water,” Keyleth said dreamily. “Do you have water, Cerkonos?” The Flamespeaker’s face was blank with surprise for a moment before he replied.
“We can offer some-”
Tiberius interrupted the Headmaster’s words. “I have water,” the dragonborn said jovially, a heartbeat before pulling a flask from his bag and popping the cork. Water- fresh, clear and cold- sprayed into the air, drenching everything, including Vox Machina, the Fire Ashari, Cerkonos, and even the lava pit behind the group.
“Gah,” Percy muttered, turning away and lifting a hand to shield his eyes, but he wasn’t loud enough to cover Vex’s next indignant question.
“You’ve had an endless supply of water while we’ve been fighting Fire Elementals?” she asked in disbelief as the magical water continued to spray and steam rose around the party.
“Yes,” came Tiberius’ calm reply. For a moment, Vex stared through the magical downpour. Then the half-elf’s eyes met those of her twin, and in unison they sighed and shook their heads. “It’s mainly for drinking and such,” Tiberius added, slightly confused, as the water continued to pour. The sorcerer hovered the cork over the neck of the bottle. “Are we all done?”
Percy, Pike and Keyleth moved to wash the dust and soot of the Fire Plane from their skin and drink from their cupped hands. The Fire Ashari stepped into the magical rain as well, muttering about the length of time it took to gather water from the distant wells each morning. They procured cups and gratefully filled them to the brim before Tiberius stoppered his flask. Then, Vox Machina and the Druids saluted each other with respect normally only shown to fine wine, and drank, their parched mouths gulping the water down greedily.
Cerkonos led Vox Machina gently but firmly to the edge of the Cindergrove, and gave a nod to Keyleth as he rubbed his shoulder. “I must heal the wounds of my helpers, taken during your test. Do as you see fit; leave when you feel comfortable. And good luck.”
Keyleth folded one arm across her chest, fist over heart, and bowed. “Kaitiaki, brother.”
Cerkonos’ mouth was grim, but there was a smile in the Flamespeaker’s dark eyes when he replied. “Kaitiaki, Princess.” With that, the Headmaster turned, and was soon lost to sight among the trees of the Cindergrove, leaving Vox Machina behind on the edge of the small Druid village of Pyrah.
Grog’s deep, booming voice interrupted the contemplative silence the Flamespeaker’s exit had created. “Your people are fucking sweet,” the Goliath said as he turned to Keyleth. Any remaining tension was dispelled as most of the group exploded into laughter, and after a moment, Keyleth managed to thank the Goliath.
“Yes, I rather enjoyed that Fire Elemental myself,” Tiberius announced. Keyleth’s hands extended for a moment, and the Druid made a small gesture that encompassed the group.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Keyleth said, simply and honestly.
Vox Machina rumbled and muttered, before Pike saved them from having a maudlin moment.
“What does ‘kaitiaki’ mean?‘” the cleric asked.
Keyleth replied, “It is… sort of our salute. Um, it means… guardian. And brother. Brethren. So it’s like a high salute.”
Vex and Pike repeated the word a time or two, but Vax'ildan’s interrupted the impromptu language lesson. “And, not tomorrow, please; but where do you need to go next for this quest of yours?” the Rogue asked.
“Well, my last stop would be to the Water Ashari, in Aquus,” Keyleth replied, brow slightly furrowed in thought.
“Lovely name,” Vax responded dryly as he deftly avoided a thrust from Vex'ahlia’s elbow.
“But they’re on another continent,” Keyleth added, lifting one hand to push back her damp hair, which was drying fast Pyrah’s hot air.
“So that’s good,” Grog rumbled, “I don’t think we could take another one right now anyway.”
“A little rest is in order,” Percy said, brushing absently and futilely at the soot encrusting his clothing.
“I’m doing pretty good, actually; I’m kind of ahead of schedule,” Keyleth murmured after another moment’s thought.
“Wonderful. Let’s just take some respite,” Tiberius agreed firmly.
Vox Machina took a short rest at a hut in the small village; each taking their turn with the dragonborn’s enchanted flask to bathe and remove the worst of the grime. Keyleth spent part of their rest thinking about the Spark Stone. After some contemplation, the Druid concluded that there was no hurry to decide the Stone’s fate and stowed it safely away. Then, slowly, they made their way down the mountain range and gathered their horses.
After giving the animals a little feed, Vox Machina mounted, with Vex returning to Trinket’s back, and they began their journey back to Vasselheim. The three-day journey was filled with stories and songs; perhaps not as tuneful as they would have been had Scanlan been able to accompany them, but enjoyable nonetheless.
The uneventful journey ended after the group passed beyond the massive grey stone walls of Vasselheim; upon stopping by the Temple of Sarenrae, Pike discovered that the Priestess of the Raven Queen, who had been lifting the curse set upon the grounds had done her job and done it well. The grounds were now ready to be sanctified and rededicated to Pike’s patron deity.
The eager voices that had lifted from the Temple to greet them made the diminutive cleric blush; those that had been little more than strangers and fellow followers of Sarenrae a week ago were now clamouring for Pike’s attention and were showing a level of devotion to the gnome that made her a little uncomfortable. After greeting the other worshippers properly, Pike gathered together with the rest of Vox Machina, and words escaped her in a low mutter.
“What if I don’t wanna go back? What if I just want to stay? With you?”
“You’re an important figure to us as well, Pickles,” Vax said, humor coating the real sadness in his voice.
“You’ve done so much for our lives,” Grog began slowly, “maybe you’ll continue to do good in these lives.” Pike’s eyes met the Goliath’s for a moment, and her lips curved in a reluctant smile.
“Well, debatable,” the cleric replied lightly.
“You can leave them at any time,” Grog added hastily, sweeping one massive arm through the air to indicate those who waited eagerly for the gnome. “And we’ll kick their arse and you can come with us.”
“At any moment at all,” Vex'ahlia added in a chuckle that ended in a noise that was suspiciously close to a sob, as Keyleth spoke up.
“You know where home is.”
“This was so great; being a part of this journey that you had,” Pike said, turning to the Druid.
“Thank you; I’m glad you came,” Keyleth replied simply.
“You are always a part of our journey no matter where we go, Pike.” Tiberius spoke calmly, but there was a world of unsaid feeling in the dragonborn’s eyes.
“Just keep the poo close,” Grog rumbled with a mischievous look in his eyes. Pike looked blank for a moment before Vex spoke up after flashing the Goliath a glare.
“I mean, I don’t know what it does, exactly, but…” Watching his twin flounder, Vax finished for her.
“Just put your faith in Sarenrae,” he said. Pike’s expression changed to a grin. These people were weird, but they were her friends.
“Okay.” For another long moment, the cleric’s eyes moved among the group. “Well, I guess I’ll go.” Pike’s eyes slid to Keyleth’s, and the gnome rested her arm across her chest, fist to heart. “Kaitiaki.” The Druid’s eyes brimmed over for a moment as her own arm came up and she returned the salute.
“Kaitiaki,” Keyleth replied. With that, Pike moved away but was stopped when Tiberius enveloped her in a scaly hug. When they stepped apart, Tiberius cleared his throat and tugged at his robes, slightly embarrassed.
“You were always my favourite gnome,” the dragonborn muttered awkwardly.
“Oh, thanks. You were always my favourite… well, dragonborn, I guess,” Pike replied, laughing. Tiberius laughed too and returned the thanks. Again, Pike hesitated, then turned away once more and headed for the excavation site. One of Vex'ahlia’s hands reached up to press against the dull ache lodged just below her breastbone.
“It hurts, every time,” the Ranger sighed. Grog rumbled in agreement, but Vax'ildan simply leaned against his sister for a moment in silent sympathy as they watched the small form walk away.
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