Path of the Pioneers

She looks down at the table, her eyes full of longing for something I've only just begun to grasp at. Love, endless love - the kind that refuses to burn out even when the ones who partake in it begin to shed blood and inflict violence upon one another. It sounds frightening to me, but it was my master's last bit of solace, her salvation. Her once-steaming cup now sits on its saucer, long-since emptied. My own glass remains untouched save for a few small sips near the beginning of her tale - I refused to look away for even a moment once her telling began in earnest.

"And that... Is how I died, my dear apprentice." She smiles somberly, head raising as her eyes meet mine once more. "Cut down by the one I love, because I couldn't help but stay my hand." She says with a laugh, one cut short suddenly only to be replaced by a sharp intake of air.

I lean back in my chair, though my body refuses to relax after all that I've heard. Massive schemes and plots that threatened to shift the entire world as everyone knew it, and I have become one of the few parties privy to the information. Her scheming hadn't just affected others, though - it had affected me. My parents, my family, my childhood friends and every descendant they'll yet bear.

How do I question her further without rubbing salt within those old but fresh wounds? Does she even deserve the luxury of being spared that salt?

Morgan was my master, she taught me most of what I knew before my journey started. Even now that I sit here, in full knowledge of the sins she bears, I cannot bring myself to shed off the respect I hold for her. Still, maybe because of the immense amounts of thoughts swirling around in my brain, I fail to live up to that aforementioned respect.

"The disparity exists because you just couldn't press the matter?" I blurt out, eyes widening a second later once my mind promptly catches up with my tongue.

I watch her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. There's nothing, and then a dry chuckle. Another moment passes, and it grows into a stream of laughter that might just give Cairbre a run for his money. One of her hands grips firmly onto the table, holding on for dear life as that great torrent of hysterics overruns her. A good minute or so passes before she finally relaxes, her body allowing her the luxury of speech.

"More or less," she says, "More or less." Another small laugh escapes her lips, and she stares down at the table, "You'll never meet a bigger fool, not in Hyperion, not in the world. I can promise you that, Sybil." She exhales, and it looks to me as if she's deflating. "But you will meet a thousand, thousand people who think they know what's best for the world - and every last one of them will be as unbending as I once was. Liars, cheats, frauds, and brutes who think they've been blessed with such a singular genius that even the combined work of their ancestors would be put to shame by it. And do you know why they're dangerous? They believe it - they believe every last bit of their own grandstanding and posturing."

"It's near hopeless to get out of that pit once you've deluded yourself to that extent," She gives me a wry smile, "Surround yourself with people who can tell you when you're being an idiot, and when you're truly being a genius - and then do whatever you can to listen to them. That's how we keep the world turning. And..." She sighs, eyes downcast, "Don't ever forget, Sybil, it's never too late to turn around on a mistake. It'll hurt like hells, but the alternative - sticking with it - is worse than that. I spent my whole life thinking that I needed to stick to the plans of the past, assured myself that they were the only way forward. But you're more than familiar with how that turned out, by now. If I had simply listened to Selene in my youth..."

"Now," she says with a sigh, her cup refilling with hot tea at the snap of her fingers, "this old woman has talked your ear off enough. Would you be so kind as to fill me in on what you've been through? Since you've gotten this far, I have to imagine you've got some stories to tell."

From my time in Gallwold, to meeting Adeline, to conquering the first floor of [The Dreadspire] and meeting Cairbre in Tirsollain, my master listens with focus. For her to seem fascinated by stories that I thought she may find mundane... It means a lot to me.

I blink a few times, and raise my gaze to meet my master's, "That reminds me, do you know what sugarslag is?"

She cocks her head to the side, a hand holding on loosely to her chin as she thinks, "He said it was like the metal? Sugarslag, let's think..." She closes her eyes, her hand occupying more of her face while she's lost in thought, "Sugarslag, that was...- Right! Yes, I'm quite familiar with the stuff. It's a dwarven confection - a heated sugar mix. It looks like molten metal, and burns you about as bad. It's quite something once it's cooled down, though - keeps better than most other sweets and tastes half-decent."

I tell her of my visit to the kobolds, the quest that they gave us, and the eventual reward that I received.

"It's a rare thing for fey to approach someone out of the blue, but it makes sense based on what they said..." She takes a long sip from her cup, setting it back down with a small tink, "You do seem to have some rotten luck for surprise challenges, though - two for two?" She laughs, "The rewards are good, but plenty of people have been killed by those things."

She falls quiet when I tell her of how we closed the dungeon gate, and how we received [Gate Sentry]. It's a few minutes more before she breaks her silence, clearing her throat before she speaks, "You understand the significance of that, I suppose?"

I nod.

She stands from her seat, wordless as she walks around the side of the table until she's staring down at me from the side. I consider standing up myself, but she interrupts me before I can. Her arms wrap around my body, and I'm pulled close against her. The warmth of someone's embrace, something I haven't felt in what feels like forever. Past her clothes, I think that I hear what might be a mixture of relieved laughter and quiet weeping.

After a time, I hear her voice. "The biggest hurtle we face are those things," she says in a hushed tone. "It's a fruitless fight. Enter a dungeon, complete its objectives, return - repeat." She laughs, and then I feel her hold on me tighten. "And if we fail to meet our responsibility, there's carnage unlike anything else. Even from the simplest of dungeons. And you closed it. My dear, dear apprentice closed a dungeon gate."

My master pulls away from me, gripping onto my shoulders loosely while her gaze meets my own. "You've done something that'll change this world, and I don't doubt for a second that you'll do it again. There's a reason - for all of this, and you've been chosen to see it." She stares up at the ceiling, her breathing finally steadying, "And with the strength of a Pioneer, you might just be able to close every dungeon there is - with a little help. The potential for the future is just..."

"Master?" I interject.

"Hm?" She looks back toward me, "Oh- yes?"

"There's just... There was a problem..." I start, my heartbeat quickening at the thought of telling her the rest of my story.

"I... May have died - sort of."