The Wandering Isles: Session 48
As the weight of the graveyard's omen still hung in the air, Slate sought answers the only way he knew how—through the book that never truly sleeps. Reaching for it, he searched for clarity on the petals that had engulfed him, hoping memory or magic might reveal something.
But instead of revelation, he was greeted by a familiar presence—Vathros. The shadowy figure offered a trade: insight, in exchange for control. Slate refused.
Elsewhere, Hatsu turned his eyes to the skies. The petals still rose slowly into the air, seemingly random—yet the moons, the stars, the rhythm of the world itself whispered that nothing was. The group returned to Hatsu’s estate, only to find something deeply wrong. The door was open.
Inside, Eldrin lay collapsed and unconscious. Remington knelt over him, steadying him, but clearly shaken. As Eos looked upon Eldrin for the first time since his disappearance, she saw something profound—something divine—in his eyes. A trace of something she had only ever seen in visions of her goddess.
Hatsu acted quickly, applying healing where he could. Eldrin stirred, and though weakened, managed to speak: he was being hunted. Hatsu, grim-faced, named the likely pursuers. Followers of an old, dark force. The conversation that followed revealed much and left more hanging in silence. And through it all, Remington said what many were beginning to feel: that the lives they led now felt far removed from the halls of the Arcanum. Perhaps they were outgrowing it.
As the tension slowly settled, a quieter moment arrived. Dash, in an unexpected gesture of humility, prepared a gift of art for Kokoro, Hatsu’s mother. Hatsu helped him present it properly, framing the piece and making sure the intention behind it shone through.
Dinner followed. A calm interlude in a storm of shifting alliances and rising danger. At the table, conversations bloomed—Dash traded words with Hatsu’s younger sister, Eos and Eldrin shared thoughts about past and purpose, and stories of home were exchanged. Eldrin spoke of Bricksunder, of the people who raised him and the ones he left behind. For a brief moment, they were not warriors or hunted bloodlines. Just people, with roots and stories.
Later, they made their way to The Storm & Lantern for the ringing of the eighth bell. It was meant to be another moment of calm, but Dash nearly unravelled it again. His eye had caught a target—an unknown but dangerous figure aligned with a shared enemy. Hatsu stopped him before a mistake was made, urging him not to ruin the few places he still held dear.
While the others found food and some light conversation, the threads of their lives continued to wind together. Secrets whispered, doubts exchanged, and a city that felt more and more like a puzzle yet to be solved.
And then, just as the session drew to a close, Slate saw her.
A child stepped toward him, but her presence was far from innocent. There was something familiar in her movements, something eerily precise in her voice. She looked up at him and said something that stopped the world around him cold.
She called him father. And said he had created her.
