#and it ended up fitting better somehow anyway so I won't ocmplain

[ofdragonsdeep]

11: Surrogate

One that takes the place of another.

(Dawntrail spoilers up until ~lv98 MSQ)

Ar'telan speaks with a knight.

The ruins of Alexandria were a strange place to be.

If anything, the effect was chilling not for being in the empty streets, but for what they represented. The impact site, a crackling pool of levin, still seethed in what had once been bustling city streets. The water of the lake seeped into the streets, foundations sinking lower with no-one to maintain them. Some of the houses had been collapsed by the bombardments, some by being dismantled to build Everkeep and the Outskirts - it was clear which was which. Feral constructs and levin-sick creatures roamed where people had once walked.

And nobody cared.

Ar'telan had kept his dislike of the Regulators to himself since arriving in Heritage Found, not wanting to cause a scene when it was important that they flew under the radar long enough to find Zoraal Ja. But though they could not directly erase the memory of a concept, they had still eroded it - the people who had cared for the streets that now lay barren gone to dust, the memories of that care slowly scrubbed away. How could you remember a love that came from someone that never existed?

Everkeep had cannibalised Alexandria for parts. Queen Sphene declared her love for Alexandria.

Zoraal Ja suited this place.

They had spent the evening with Gulool Ja, thanks to Ar'telan's efforts in tracking him through the ruins. He had almost refused to do so, after how disastrously his last attempt to track a child had gone, with Meteion, but the situation was different. Thankfully, he had not been given cause to regret it so far.

Ar'telan liked Gulool Ja. He had understood the boy's reticence to speak all too well, and had been pleasantly surprised to learn that he was very sensible when he ran away from the bright lights of Everkeep. Oblivion hadn't taught him that. They had given him a space to exist, but hadn't known how to give him much more - they weren't built to give him more than that, they had made that clear in how Cahcuia and Erenville acted around each other. All business, little family.

Otis, meanwhile, had taught him a great deal.

The others had begun the walk back to Everkeep now, Gulool Ja in tow. Ar'telan, meanwhile, sat with Otis.

"You've been most pensieve this eve," the man remarked, the queer echo of his processed voice still odd to hear. Ar'telan frowned.

"He doesn't wear a Regulator," he remarked. Otis tilted his head. Ar'telan wondered if it was possible for the construct to blink. "I wondered if you influenced him, but you couldn't exist without one, could you?"

"Oh, I am a very unusual case!" Otis disagreed. "My transference came long before the Regulators became commonplace. I was a trailblazer!" He did not have a mouth to beam with, but Ar'telan could imagine it all the same, from the energy in his voice.

"But he knows you couldn't exist without the technology. And Zoraal Ja wears a Regulator."

The temperature in the air cooled a little at Ar'telan's sign of the King's name. The motions had changed since they had come to Heritage Found, and not in the man's favour. Otis clearly shared the sentiment.

"I will confess I never thought to ask him," Otis admitted. "It never seemed important. One wages a constant battle against time and the elements out here in the city, after all." Ar'telan's frown deepened.

"Does he know, then? That your… your body. It's old, and there are none left to repair it for you?"

"I should imagine he does, though we have never directly talked about it."

Ar'telan made a thoughtful noise at that. It was easy to paint Gulool Ja's knowledge of electrope as a survival skill, but he had to know. Otis was the only person he trusted in the entirety of Everkeep, it seemed. He existed in an anxious haze around Oblivion, seeking the safety their under-the-radar existence provided, but in Otis he had a home.

Ar'telan couldn't help but be reminded of being offered a safe harbour after the attempt on Nanamo's life. He thought about the graveyard on the edge of Alexandria, and the man who maintained it in thankless vigil, his activities a secret from his colleagues.

"If Wuk Lamat helps to set things right in the city, so it's less scary for Gulool Ja, would you go back with him?" he asked. "I know you've been alive a long time, but there would be a place in the city for you, I think."

Otis cast his eyes towards Everkeep - or his optical sensors, if they truly were in those little green lights that lit up what passed for his face. There was a moment of quiet, and Ar'telan was struck by the soft sound of Otis's body humming from the mechanisms that powered it.

"Nay, I do not think so," he said eventually, his tone quiet. The tinny echo felt forlorn in the silence. "It has been my honour to guard the young Prince so far, but I am a relic of an age long past." The lights on his faceplate flickered. "I am a Knight of Alexandria, and in Alexandria I shall remain."

Ar'telan wanted to ask if the city could be restored, but he knew the answer without having to utter the words. It could, but none would want to. Alexandria faced forwards, and refused to do anything but scavenge scraps from the city which had nurtured it. It had no choice. Only Sphene still remembered the place it once had been, and Ar'telan had no way of knowing if it was even a memory she treasured.

Unease twisted in his stomach, the source hard to pinpoint. It all felt off, and he couldn't quite figure out why.

"Heritage Found… Alexandria has been merged with the Source now, in almost every sense," he said, choosing his words carefully. "The dome protects Everkeep from the harsh atmosphere of your original world, but now you are removed from it, could the dome come down?"

"A curious question," Otis said. The melancholy had immediately left his voice, replaced once more by the upbeat cheer that so characterised him. "I should think it could, but it would put Everkeep in quite an unusual position. The electrope from which everything was built requires the unique atmosphere of our world to function. Without it, I would imagine the city would struggle quite significantly."

"But there are… There are children dying slowly, because of this lightning," Ar'telan said. "Is it worth it?"

"A question best posed to the residents, I would say." Otis turned to regard him then. "All of these are questions you could have asked before, my quiet friend. Why wait until now? Why ask them of me?"

"I don't think the Queen would answer," Ar'telan replied. "And I'm not…" He paused, considering the words. "I'm here for Wuk Lamat. To protect the people of Tural, yes, but because Wuk Lamat needs my support to do that. These questions… they're mine, not hers. And the answers don't really matter, in the grand scheme of things."

"But they matter to you!" Otis disagreed. "I should say that is very important. Young Gulool Ja does not speak too much, but I have always encouraged him to voice his thoughts where he feels safe to do so. I find it most tragic that Tural's loyal… retainer? Companion? Cannot do the same."

"Mentor, I think," Ar'telan offered. "It's not that I don't feel safe. It's that she's already shouldering so much, and has so much left to shoulder. Zoraal Ja is her brother, and she loves him. She loves Gulool Ja, too, even though she has barely had chance to know him. She's like that." He smiled slightly at that. "I think, a few years ago, I wouldn't have voiced the thoughts at all. But now I'm just saving them for a better time. And of everyone here in Heritage Found, I think you've been the most amenable to them. I appreciate that."

"I have spent many a long decade devoted to Alexandria," Otis said, his face once more regarding Everkeep. Ar'telan supposed it was the closest thing the nation had to a palace for its rulers, now, and Otis knew that well. "It will always be my dearest pleasure to teach people of my beloved country, and its beloved Queen."

"Still, I owe you thanks," Ar'telan replied. "For listening, even if you think it a forgone conclusion. I hope… I hope we can settle things between our nations without too much bloodshed."

"Zoraal Ja may be King, but I swore fealty to none but my Queen," Otis replied, fervour in his voice. "I can only pray that the people are left unscathed by what has to ensue."

Ar'telan wondered what it would feel like to the Alexandrians. They had been tormented by Zoraal Ja, if the discomfort of all but the army was any indication, for near thirty years. When he died, they would immeidately forget that he had ever existed. How would the wound look? Would they remember a King had led them to war, but not his face, not his name, not his motives? Or would the ache take formless shape, unanswerable for the rest of their lives?

Ar'telan could not even fathom the wound of forgetting the dead.

"As will I," he answered, keeping the rest to himself. "Thank you, Otis. I hope we can speak again soon."

"As do I, my new friend!"