Vanya's Journals: The Final EntryThough it had always appeared in hindsight that she held a special importance to this old fortress you stand within, few people spoke of her, and if they did so, it was only in passing. She was almost a taboo topic at Spearbreakers, and for good reason – the dwarves were willingly allowing an elf to live among them, in an age where prejudice and racism ruled the day. As a historian, you've dedicated your life to learning about this near-forgotten border fortress. You know perhaps more about the installation than anyone else – yet this single elven maiden has continued to elude you.
This is the final entry in her journals. Whether she continued elsewhere, you cannot say. So much remains unexplained – how did the girl become so well known among dwarfkind, and so hated among her own? From whence sprang the tales of her standing against entire armies of elves, from whence came the campfire tales of how she'd led armies to victory against Ballpoint? Of how she survived a scythod attack alone? Of how she took on even Parasol itself with a small group of friends at her side? Surely some of them are poetic exaggerations... but how did they come to be? Although doubtful, you pray that these questions will be answered in her final entry.I have important news... some much more exciting than other little bits, but something important is going to happen soon. I'd really, really like to put it down right now, and skip everything else... but I have to do this in order. I do want to be an author, after all, and books where the narrative skips around are difficult to read. I have to practice not doing that. I used to be a lot worse about it... but that was when I was little. I always had to keep to myself, back at the mountain home, to keep the other children from finding out who I was. It gave me time to write, and time to think. It also gave me a lot of time to spend with my sister...
~~~
As I walked up the stairs towards the apartment levels, I ran back over Wari's words in my mind...
"There's someone new in the fortress – he arrived with the last migrant wave. I can't find anything on him, not that that's unusual. I have trouble staying organized. At any rate, it seems almost as though he may be working for either Ballpoint or Eris. He's not a Parasol employee. I've seen him carting bins of scrap metal to his room – obviously that's highly unusual. The bins are always emptier when he leaves with them, but so far I think I'm the only one who's noticed." I left the stairwell and continued towards the living quarters at a steady pace. I was somewhat uneasy about the whole thing – I didn't
want to work for Parasol.
"His name is Tomio. I haven't found any information on his last name, but that's largely because Orodogoth is the only link I have with the world outside his little safe room, or 'headquarters,' as he calls it. Where he got all this Mountain Dew from, I have no idea, but he claims you can't survive an apocalypse without it. I hate the stuff." Finally, I arrived at my destination, and I slowed to a halt outside Tomio's door, trying to remain inconspicuous... but looking back, what
isn't conspicuous about a cloaked, hooded girl who's glancing about like she thinks Fischer's after her?
"I need you to break into his room and figure out what he's doing, and who he's working for. Feel free to take anything back here you think might help me. Honestly, I think he's trying to take the fortress down. That implies that he's working for Eris... and yes, I know you're not cleared for that level of classification. Draconik is going to give me hell for this, I'm sure."
"How am I going to get into his room? I can't pick locks..." I remembered telling her.
"No? What about... ahhh, I see... So Ballpoint tried to wipe away the skills we gave you. There might be a solution for that, but I'll explain when you get back. Just take this lock pick. Most doors in the fortress are relatively easy to unlock – I said 'most', mind you. Oddly, no one ever tries to unlock a door. It baffles me. Just hurry there, get what I need, and get back." I waited until everyone was out of the hallway, and then took out the little strip of metal she had given me, placing it into the lock of Tomio's door. After quite a bit of wiggling, I heard a soft "click" that seemed to echo through the quiet hallway, and I put the tool back into my pocket. Turning the doorknob carefully, I walked inside.
The place was a mess... little bits of scrap metal lay scattered haphazardly all over the smoothed granite floor, as well as sheets of paper, coated with doodles and sketches in a way that vaguely reminded me of some of Mr Frog's blueprints. There were a few pieces of furniture: a bed against the left wall next to a cabinet that apparently doubled as a nightstand. In the right corner, Tomio had loosely draped a piece of canvas over something unidentifiable. There was also a closet... since when did dwarves in Spearbreakers get a closet?
More than anything else, it stank. In fact, it
reeked of
fish, of all things. I haven't smelled anything as strong since I was hiding from Mr Frog in the abandoned dump. I wasn't nauseated by it, but I really, really didn't want to stick around any longer than I had to.
Closing the door quietly behind me, I walked over to the bedside cabinet and opened it, looking over all the shelves. There wasn't much in it besides a few fish bones, scrap metal, and a diary... I decided the diary was something Wari might want, and slipped it into my cloak.
After closing the cabinet back, I peeked under the bed on a whim. When I saw what Tomio had hidden beneath it, I gasped. It was a huge lump of adamantine – the forbidden metal. I felt myself fall under its spell, my fingers creeping towards it of their own accord. It was light, I reasoned... I could easily take it out of there and move it somewhere else... If I sold it, I'd be rich enough to travel to a human city, buy a house, write a book...
Suddenly I realized what was happening. "
No!" I whispered fiercely, snatching my fingers back. "I'm an elf; adamantine should have no effect on me..." I knew the words were a lie even as I said it, and I felt my fingers drawn irresistibly back towards the lustrous sky-blue metal. I stopped myself again, repeating, "I'm an elf, I'm an elf, I'm an elf, I'm an elf." With an effort and a furrowed brow, I forced myself to my feet and took a step away from the bed, leaving the lump of metal where it lay. I smiled a little in triumph: I could master the temptation.
Without warning, the door to my left opened. I tried to jump away towards the closet to hide, but I slipped on some of the blueprints, falling on my back. Tomio himself walked in with a hoe over his shoulder. He saw me immediately, looking at me in surprise. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?! I locked my door, and you still got in... Well, only one way to –"
Without even giving him a chance to finish, I kicked out at his stomach in self-defense – I didn't want him to kill me with his weapon. Unfortunately... I may have aimed a little bit lower than his stomach... All the same, it had no effect on him. My foot stung as if I'd just kicked solid rock. "What are you??" I breathed, wide-eyed in fear as I tried to scoot away... but he was too quick, and something heavy struck me across the head...
~~~
I awoke sometime later, only to find I was bound with rope, my mouth was gagged, and I couldn't see a thing. I could move, though, and I felt about with my feet, soon deciding I was in Tomio's closet. Kidnapping is unheard of among dwarves... What
was he? I'd heard stories of trolls with flesh of stone, but Tomio looked like a dwarf...
Looked like a dwarf, at least. I'm pretty sure he wasn't...
Then it hit me. I was in a tiny closet. The old phobia of small spaces came back, and I started hyperventilating. I tried to calm myself, but instead, I started to panic. The gag made it even worse – I could barely breathe. I felt like I was about to pass out, dizzy from a lack of oxygen.
I needed to calm myself. I tried to think of things that had helped me before: open fields, puppies, the sky... and finally, finally, I managed to get my mind off where I was.
Wiggling about a bit, I found that he'd skipped binding my chest area for some reason... I tried to take advantage of it, and after several more minutes of wiggling back and forth, I managed to slip an elbow up through the gap. After that, it was easy, and I felt around in the dark until I found the knots, working with them until I had a second arm loose. I removed the gag and took a deep, deep breath. Sometimes there's nothing as wonderful as a breath of air. Even if it does smell like fish.
Continuing with the knots, I eventually managed to free myself. There was no way he hadn't seen my elven ears... he was yet another person who knew. But if he tried to tell everyone what I was... I'd be able to tell them about his stolen lump of adamantine. The punishment for that was 50 hammer strikes from Weaver. In simple terms, that means death. Normally I'd never betray someone like that... but it would be his death against my own, and he'd just kidnapped me. I was afraid he'd done it for sexual purposes at first, but he hadn't even searched me: I still had his diary beneath my cloak.
But it didn't matter. I was
free. Standing, I turned the knob and walked forwards triumphantly. I'd just escaped bondage
and a kidnapping.
Nothing could stop me now.
I wound up with a faceful of the back of the door... he'd apparently locked me in. It didn't take me long to unlock, though, and I left, headed for Orodogoth's safe room. I was glad to finally be away from that place.
~~~ Wari stood before me, idly flipping through Tomio's diary. "This is great. Thank you, Vanya," she said, sitting down in a chair with the book in her lap, and turning to the first page. After a moment, she took a pair of glasses from her shirt pocket and put them on, absorbed in the pages.
I stood there for several minutes, watching her in silence. I wanted to ask her something, but I felt too timid to try. I felt I almost deserved a little help from her... after all, I
did help her out first, and my head still stung from where Tomio had hit me. I'd gone through quite a bit for her, actually.
Finally she glanced up at me distractedly. "You're still here?" She waved me off with the back of her hand as she turned back to reading. "I don't have anything else for you to do right now, I'm sorry. You can go back to Mr Frog."
I decided to voice my question. "Wari..." I began, "I think I may need your help in something... I don't know if it can be done, but..."
The agent removed her glasses, looking up at me in curiosity. "Is something wrong?"
Suddenly I found I was unsure of the whole thing myself, and I hesitated before continuing. "Well... I need to save my sister..."
She stared at me with slight disapproval, giving a slow shake of the head. "This isn't the best way. Are you
really sure about this? Really, really, really sure?"
I nodded. "When they separated us, I promised her I'd find her... I
love her, I... I want her to be safe. Wari, I want my sister back..."
"You'll have to go to Ballpoint..." she warned.
"I've been there before."
"Your sister won't remember you," she went on, as she put the book on the table and got to her feet. "Ballpoint would've replaced any memories they thought might compromise her loyalty. Vanya... even if you manage to get past all the guards..." Wari paused, grimacing, as if she hated to say the next words. "...your sister
herself will try to kill you."
I nodded. I'd thought it all through before a hundred times. "I know..." I told her, my voice hardly a whisper. "But I have to try. I
have to. Even if she
does kill me."
I watched as she walked around the table towards me. I could see the emotion in her eyes, and as she slowed to a halt, just for a moment, she looked at me almost as if she was lost in a memory; almost as if it wasn't really me she was looking at... but someone else. Someone she loved. "Wari," I said softly, "I want to know if I can make her remember me... even while she's wearing her bracelet. I want to know if I can convince her I'm her sister. I don't want to wait for its effects to wear off to take her home... I don't want to leave Ballpoint again without her, even if she doesn't remember me yet... just so long as we're together again."
Wari's lips twitched as she stared at me in silence. "I understand," she finally managed. "If Lokum, my brother, was still alive... I'd do anything I could to save him."
"Even if you knew you might die," I said quietly.
She gave a quick nod and looked away, wiping her eyes. "Even if I knew." She paused, and then threw her arms around me, muttering, "My god, you remind me so much of him sometimes."
It had been years since someone had given me a hug... The only people I could ever recall giving me one were my sister and grandmother... but other than that... not a soul. I returned the embrace gratefully. Sometimes, just knowing someone cares can bring light to the blackest of worlds.
Wari shook a few times with repressed sobs, but quickly quieted herself. After a minute, she pulled back, putting her hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eyes, smiling through her tears. "
No one else could ever love her like you do; no one else could ever know her better. You know more about her than
anyone else in this dimension or any other. Vanya... if
anyone can manage it... it's you."
~~~
The months went by quickly. I studied everything I could under Mr Frog's watchful eye, as he taught me the subtle secrets of masonry and mechanics, and the inner workings of Ballpoint and Parasol: how they think, how they work. I know he wanted his PEA... but I think there was something else driving him... Sometimes I caught him looking at me as if lost in a memory... as if there was someone I reminded
him of. Since I'd come to work for him, I'd eventually grown to think of him almost as a father... the father I'd never known. He'd seemed to become almost protective of me, and I often wondered why.
I did get back to Jack Magnus and Draconik to tell them that Wari was all right. Jack Magnus offered his friendship... apparently he'd been asking questions since we'd met... and somehow, he'd learned I was an elf. It blew me away that a soldier who'd fought elves himself could be so open to one of my species. Draconik, on the other hand, offered his assistance instead, volunteering to teach me Parasol's standard combat techniques. I spent many hours with him, training and studying, though I'll admit I'm nowhere near as skilled as he is... I'm only "adequate" at best. He offered to teach me ranged combat, too... but I refused. I'm of the opinion that if you
must kill someone... if you can't look them in the eyes as you do it... you shouldn't touch them at all. I think that to take someone's life without giving them a chance is a cruelty.
I occasionally went to visit Wari, too, and keep her company. As the weeks grew by, we grew closer, becoming good friends... Usually we just talked about whatever came to mind... but sometimes she would try to teach me, or help me out with my quest, like the time she explained Ballpoint's reshaping of my mind, and how the abilities Parasol gave me might show up again someday:
"Imagine a painting of masterwork quality. Now imagine someone else comes along and changes parts of that painting with a cheaper paint, putting a completely new layer on. Now imagine that someone else comes along and puts on touches of his own, adding a new layer of cheap paint. Without the bracelet we designed for you, parts of that top layer will peel away over time, and maybe little bits of the layer beneath it, too... but it's hard to say just how it will happen." It's how I took down those soldiers in the hallway outside Mr Frog's room – Ballpoint's layer of mindshaping had "peeled away"... but getting close to the bracelet again put it back, even stronger than before. Wari had a gift for explaining things. It wasn't the only thing she explained, but it's the only one I remember right now...
During my trips through the fortress, I occasionally caught a glimpse of other people I'd met. One was Talvi, who looked at me almost warily as I passed... there was something different about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Another, Fischer, glared at me with hatred as I walked by. Count Splint seemed to allow my presence, but grudgingly. I saw Kannan once, too... he did a double take as he saw my face, and I hurried away, careful never to pass him again.
I met the current overseer, Reudh, too. Everyone clearly hates him... he seemed to be an outcast, just like me. I stopped to tell him that I felt for him... and remembered to say his honorary title, "Lord". But then he stalked me for a bit and creeped me out... scared me, even. I've tried to avoid him since. Even more than Kannan or Reudh, though, I've been trying to avoid Tomio.
Mitchewawa saw me once, too, exclaiming, "It's you!" But this time, he wasn't angry, and he didn't want to throw me to the zombies for breakfast... Instead, he asked me if I could ask Mr Frog to spike the booze supply again to "increase civilian efficiency". Apparently, it's something Mr Frog has done before... and I can't really say I'm surprised.
So many people know I'm an elf... Mr Frog told me he'd had Splint mark me in the records, and I'm an official member of the fortress now. Splint knows, Talvi, Fischer, Jack Magnus, Orodogoth, Count Splint, Mitchewawa, Draignean, Tomio... and yet, for the most part, they're fine with it, and that surprises me. I've wondered many times... how could a military fortress with such a dark reputation be so acceptant of an elf? The only thing I can come up with is that Spearbreakers is already so much of a hellhole compared to the outside world, with all its miasma, and "foreign mercenaries", and zombies, Holistic Spawn, goblin sieges, blood rain... that nothing really surprises people here anymore. They've seen it all.
~~~
Mr Frog came to me earlier today with a set of armor... it was Ballpoint gray and lined with carbon fiber, and came with a cloak, boots, and gloves... all black. It looked very high-tech, and not dwarven at all.
"I overcame exceptional difficulty in arranging procedures to acquire these garments, and I'd appreciate your acquiescence in pre-use testing so we can understand what requires custom modification," he told me. I'd grown used to his style of speech... he basically meant he wanted me to try it on. I took it to my room, stripping out of my clothes and putting on the uniform one piece at a time.
I'd never felt carbon fiber before... it's a dull grayish material, as light as adamantine and supposedly as strong, though it can't hold an edge. Whoever had made the suit had lined the insides with it, and everything was a perfect fit... even the knee-length cape, which felt warm and comfortable fastened around my neck.
Once I had everything on – boots, gloves, breastplate and all – I stood in front of my mirror, spinning about and looking at myself. It felt... majestic... The cape was a bit over the top for my tastes, though... and I wasn't sure if the smoke grenades attached to the belt were real or not. Really, I didn't even know how to use them. I kept looking, noting the little pouches and buckles for... who knows what... and in one of them, I discovered a sheathed black dagger that was much too big for me.
That's about when I found the gun holster, and the silvery pistol within. I pulled it out, holding it up and examining it skeptically. It too was a bit too large for my hands... I could just barely reach the trigger. Putting it back in the holster, I removed both and turned on my heel to leave my room, headed for Mr Frog.
"Well?" he asked when he saw me, his arms crossed. "Do you approve?
"I don't like the cape or the gun," I told him, handing him the latter. "What is the cape supposed to do, anyway? It seems like it would get stuck in things like doors."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Oddly enough, capes rarely seem to catch on obstacles... although I can understand your reasoning behind wanting to remove it. It is primarily ornamental. However, this weapon is crucially important to your self-defense. I advise you reconsider." From Mr Frog, that meant "You're going to use it whether you like it or not."
I shook my head firmly. "I'm not using a gun."
"Stupid, stupid girl. How do you expect to survive a second expedition through Ballpoint, should circumstances prevent a smooth departure? Through the power of friendship?" He said this last with a hint of disdain.
I knew going in unarmed was a bad idea... but I didn't want a gun – not knowing what they're capable of. "Where are those knives I fought you with, three years ago?" I asked him. "They felt so much more...
natural when I held them. Not like this one," I said pointedly, pulling out the large black dagger from its sheath. "I can hardly get my fingers around it, and it feels so clumsy."
"Hrmph," he muttered, giving me the evil eye and walking over to a cabinet. He soon returned with a cardboard box with the two sheathed daggers inside. "Silver vampiric blades," he said quietly. "Formerly property of Stova, from when she fought alongside Splint in the Vampiric Wars... but Talvi took them when she died. Splint couldn't bear to look at them." Mr Frog paused, removing one of the knives from its sheath and holding it up. It shimmered and glinted coldly in the light. He looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, and finally spoke. "They were originally the prized possessions of a high vampiric lord... eternally stained with the blood of fallen dwarves." His voice grew quieter as he continued, almost to himself, "They used to lick these, you know... after the battle was over, they would lick the blood of their enemies from their blades..." He finally stopped completely, looking at it almost with regret, as if it recalled a memory he'd rather stayed buried. I watched his face, wondering once more... who
was he? He never revealed his past, not even if someone asked directly... He was so mysterious. It was as if he was always trying to run; always trying to forget...
He started suddenly, looking back at me and replacing them in their case. "They're beautiful weapons. Only vampires were as skilled in the implementation and crafting of silver alloys. Their edges are as sharp as steel... and at least as strong. But why these, of all things?"
"They felt right in my hands..." I explained softly, but now it seemed an unworthy reason. I'd had no idea they used to belong to Stova... or vampires... though I could remember Carena – my sister, rather – saying something like that to Joseph.
He only nodded. "Fair enough. If you are satisfied, you may remove your Ballpoint gear and store it until we are ready. It is improbable that you'll have long to wait. Possibly only a few weeks."
I'm excited, but really, really nervous, too... I know how risky it is, but I
have to try to get my sister back. I'm willing to do anything to manage it. Anything at all. I'd... I'd
kill for her, if I thought it could bring her back... if I thought it could keep Ballpoint, and more importantly, Joseph, from manipulating her. I feel awful writing that down, but it's true.
I've had a horrible life, really... an elf growing up among dwarves, an abusive grandfather, little food, few common comforts, living homeless in garbage heaps and abandoned alleyways, multiple interdimensional corporations messing with my mind, screwing up my memories, forcing me to act how they want me to act... It's almost as if Armok himself hates me... almost as if someone up there wants to make my life as miserable as possible. But my sister stayed with me through it all. If I can just get her back... it'll make everything better.
I'm going to avoid writing in this journal until I get back, whether I succeed or fail. Putting useless words in between there and now just seems wrong somehow. When I
do get back... I'm going to make a very long entry (long even for me) about how it went.
And if I succeed... my sister's going to write it with me.
☆
The journal ends here. Nothing else from the young writer graces its pages – not a story, not a sketch – and you can't help but wonder...
Did she die?
The question can only remain unanswered. You flip through the pages one last time, scanning them in vain for anything that might inform you of her fate, but finally resignedly lay her third journal atop the others. It seems fitting that they should rest here until the end of time, gathering dust – one of the last mysteries of Spearbreakers, that mighty fortress of old in which you stand.
But you've found you've grown almost attached to the young woman. She'd written her hopes and dreams, her trials and fears in her three journals so clearly that you almost feel as if you know her, and it's with a heavy heart that you turn towards the door and leave Mr Frog's ancient, dusty laboratory for the last time. 
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