Made from Stone

[Atlas333]

Spoiler

As he walked through the forest Nod could feel himself dying. At this point, his body was more stone than flesh, an unfortunate side effect of continuous soulcasting. Every action was stiff as his joints ground against each other; it wouldn’t be long until they wouldn’t be able to bend at all. He’d thought he wouldn’t feel this way until his elder years, but the process had been faster than he had anticipated.

He had known the risks when he had first volunteered to be a soulcaster but back then he thought he’d be making a difference, doing something that mattered. Turns out, making barracks wasn’t much more important than farming fields - truthfully none of it mattered.

But the Nightwachter would save him.

He liked to think he was on the right path mostly because there wasn’t one. Supposedly the Nightwatcher found you, not the other way around. Nod was lost but he was sure he could make it worse if he just kept going.

It wasn’t hard to do. Everything looked the same to him. It was all roots and bushes that tried to trip you. They all wove together into a collective mass that blocked out the sun like grasping hands at a beggar’s feast.

This was his second day of hiking, technically longer if he counted the weeks of travel it had taken to get to the Valley. He could feel time slipping past him as his condition worsened and his supplies began to run low.

Nod eventually came to something that could pass for a clearing if that meant enough space to swing your arms around without hitting anything. It was as good a place as any.

He tried to fix his appearance; it wasn’t a very difficult process. His robes were a simple muted orange; they’d become duller each day he’d spent in the wilderness and he kept his head shaved. It was typical for an ardent but for him, it was more practical. These days he could hardly raise his hands above his shoulder, let alone fix his hair. 

Once he was done with his appearance he knelt down on the edge of the clearing and raised his hands as if in prayer. “Oh, radiant spren, I beg of you, appear to me and grant my desire.” He hated the sound of his voice, it was deep like stone scraping stone. 

His words were met with a long pause so he kept going, “I have traveled for many days to reach your glorious valley… it is very nice and has a lot of… trees.”

Silence. As a breeze moved through the branches it almost sounded like whispers, like when you misspoke during a prayer and everyone laughed. He shook his head. He was probably just hearing things. 

Nod tried again. After all, what was the harm? It’s not like you could scare away something that wasn’t there.

After several failed attempts (each with varying levels of flattery) Nod slowly got up; it was a long, slow process too similar to an old man’s for his liking. He would have to keep going. If he didn’t find her he might as well pose and resign himself to becoming a statue. 

Had he been misled? Those guides must have lied to him; he was in the wrong spot. Or maybe he wasn’t worthy enough? Had he not dedicated his life to the almighty? Anger boiled inside him summoning angerspren out of the ground, like small pools of blood. The Nightwacther had condemned him to death without even meeting him!

On impulse, Nod swung to the nearest tree and thrust his rocky palm into it sending splinters flying. Become immovable, become unbreakable, become stone., he thought. But of course, it didn’t work; he didn’t have his soulcaster. He’d been forced to leave it behind. The brightlord would have been furious if he had taken it - and rightly so. 

At the base of the unaffected tree, a spren emerged out of the rock. It looked vaguely humanoid but without any intricate details, like someone had been trying to sculpt it but had given up before finishing. Nod had seen this spren on a few occasions before when soulcasting; it was just one of the many strange side effects of his condition.

“You fail to best a tree in a fight,” The small spren said. “I continue to be unimpressed.”

“I’m not trying to impress you,” Nod said haltingly. “I thought I told you last time to leave me alone.”

“You did. I chose not to listen.”

Nod clenched his jaw and after a moment relaxed. “Spren, do you know where the nightwatcher is?”

“Refer to me as Ko’Nina and I do not. But she cannot help you.”

“I assure you. She can.” Nod had never considered if spren had names, but if most things did, why not spren? “She can if you’re willing to pay the price. And I am willing to pay any price.”

“Yes,” The Ko’Nina said. “You were. But not anymore. You are running from your duty.”

Nod turned back to the spren. “And what is my duty? To die?”

“For some it is,” The spren said. “What do you think will happen if this works? Someone else will use that soulcaster.”

“Better them than me.”

The spren threw a small pebble that bounced against Nod’s knee. “You think this changes things. What of the words?”

She’d talked about that phrase last time too. “I don’t know what you mean.” He said annoyed.

That earned him another pebble to the leg. “You had been so promising.” Ko’Nina paced back and forth. “What of the boy who had volunteered to soulcast when the other ardents were too afraid?”

“That boy had been foolish. How could he know what he was agreeing to?”

“He hadn’t.” The spren said. “That was what made his decision so inspiring.”

Nod turned to go. “I’m off to find the Nightwatcher. Either you help me spren or-

“Or what?” Asked a voice from behind him; it was distinctly feminine but wrong somehow. It sounded more like a chorus with each voice a slightly different pitch and barely out of sync. Nod froze, he was… well petrified.

He turned slowly and there she was, the Nightwatcher. No amount of stories or descriptions did her justice. Her face was normal enough; it was smooth almost like porcelain, but after that, you noticed how wrong the rest of her was. Her eyes contained nothing but darkness, as if it were a mask and something else was looking through it. Her body was a green mist that extended into the forest seemingly without end. She extended an arm nearly as tall as he was towards the tree as if she thought his confusion was in regards to her question and not her sudden appearance.

Nod dropped to his knees. Despite his stone shins it still hurt but he hardly noticed. “Oh, radiant spren, I apologize. I let my anger get the best of me. I didn’t mean to disrespect you or your valley.” Shockspren had sprung up around him like small yellow triangles breaking and reforming continuously.

The Nightwatcher hardly reacted to his words and kept her fixed on him. Nod awkwardly shuffled back ever so slightly; he didn’t want to risk touching her both out of respect and a healthy dose of caution.

“You are unlike the other humans that seek an audience with me. What boon do you desire?”

Nod kept his eyes on the dirt. “My life grows shorter by the day, radiant spren. I am a soulcaster and slowly I am becoming the very substance I command. I ask that you return my body to its natural state.”

“I see.” She moved her face low as if to look into his eyes. “You could ask for anything, riches, strength, power but you merely wish for something you once had.”

“Yes, more than anything.”

“I will grant you your boon.” She then reached out and cupped his cheek. 

Nod felt a cold sensation that went deeper than his skin, like cold water coursing through his veins. Bit by bit, he began to feel lighter as clumps of rocks fell off his body. He closed his eyes. The sensation didn’t hurt so much as it felt fundamentally wrong, like his very being was being stretched.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone, his arms braced against the ground. He breathed out ragged gasps. For the first time in months, he raised one hand and completely closed his fist. But something was wrong. His hand was covered in wrinkles. He was older now, much older.

“Oh, stormfather.” He fell on his back and looked at the canopy above him. “How much did she take from me?”

  Ko’nina climbed up on his chest, although he couldn’t feel the weight. Odd. “I told you. The Nightwatcher does not give more than she takes. Your quest is fulfilled. What will you do now?”

 In all of Nod’s planning, he hadn’t ever gotten farther than this. He hadn’t actually thought this would work. “What does it matter? I’ve traded one fading body for another.”

“Your life is pointless then? You plan to lie here and die?”

“Well, no. I’ll-”

“What of the older ardents at the devotary? Should they stay in bed because they’re too weak to swing a sword.”

“No, but-”

“Then you still have time,” the spren said. “What will you do with it?”

Nod stood up slowly forcing Ko’nina off him. “There are other soulcasters,” he said finally. “Some are like me and want to save themselves. I will go back and tell them it worked. A few might want to follow in my footsteps. Even if-” he closed his wrinkled fist “there are consequences.”

“A worthy quest indeed. I will be watching.” With that, the spren melded into a palm-sized stone. 

Nod bent down slowly with a groan and pocketed the rock. He didn’t know what possessed him or if he would see the spren again but it had been nice to have someone approve of him. It had reminded him of who he had been.

“Life before death,” he whispered to himself, a soft breeze stirring through the grove. He had never heard the words before, but they felt right. He didn’t know what the road ahead held for him, but he would meet it no matter what. He began his journey out of the valley and back to Alekthar.

A soulcaster savant pays a visit to the Nightwatcher. 

Edited February 12, 2025 by Atlas333
Changed the ending to feel a bit more "natural"