Jayven opened the heavy oak door slowly, unsure what would lie in wait for him behind it. What he found was something he surely did not expect.
A colossal rock blocked the entrance to the next room, inscribed with two words in an unknown script. It was coarse, but flat, and grey, very much unlike the sandstone walls of the desert palace he was plundering. There had been little to challenge a master thief and professional acrobat like Jayven on his quest for the Gem of the Ram; at least until he came across this immovable and illogically placed barrier leading out of the cramped storeroom.
A feminine voice from behind startled him. “I don’t know what to do about it either.” He turned to see a girl standing amidst the scattered crates of rotting food, racks of rusty weapons, rolled up carpets, and forgotten jewelry all covered in dust. The girl, dressed in unfamiliar garb, had a fair complexion and a brown waterfall flowing from her head to her shoulders, each strand subtly curled. “In fact, I know it isn’t actually there, but I don’t know what’s behind it, either.”
Jayven scowled at her. “Who are you, witch? I know that there are no other entrances to this room, and I know nobody had been behind me before you spoke.”
“Don’t call me a witch, Jayven. My name is Melissa. I happen to be controlling your fate, as well as everything else that happens in this world.” She pushed him aside, stood in front of the doorway, and examined the script upon the stone. Materializing a jewel-encrusted hammer from nowhere, she repeatedly struck the stone for several minutes, each blow ringing throughout the room.
She made no progress, tossing the hammer aside haphazardly. It landed on a folded-up luxury rug in the corner.
“If you control the fate of this world, then why didn’t you know about this block of stone in my path?” Jayven sat on a crate elsewhere in the room, tapping his balancing stick on the floor impatiently. It slid through his sweaty palms. It would be wrong to attack her, despite her oddities. She was, after all, trying to help him. “In fact, why don’t you simply hand me the Gem of the Ram and we can both go our separate ways?”
“This happens occasionally when I lose my train of thought. Nobody remembers it afterwards, except me. That big gray rock's not really there, but it’s a barrier to both the people of this world and me while it persists. So I guess it is there. But it's not. I can't really explain it.” Melissa swung her hair, which hit her in the face and caused her to stumble over her feet.
“And the Gem? You’re trying to help me anyway.”
“Oh, that’s because helping you that much wouldn’t be any fun. The world simply must be fun, or else there would be no reason in it existing at all. At least, that’s what I think.” Melissa pulled a larger hammer out of wherever she had grabbed the first hammer from. She held it firmly in her hands and attacked the barrier, causing a loud sound to erupt from the repeated collisions. She tossed it away as well.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t explain it,” she said. “Any ideas on what’s behind the door?”
“Well, no. Don’t you have any?”
“No, and that’s because of this big old block.” She smiled, sitting on a crate across from him, leaning her head on her hands and her elbows on her knees as she watched his balancing stick tap the ground.
Jayven looked at her curly brown hair and otherwise innocent appearance. She had very nice hair, he thought. He restrained himself from reaching out to touch it.
“You would think that, wouldn't you? I'm flattered, but I can't say I like your hair the way you dye it black. I know you don’t think blond's a very good color for a thief, but I think it’s just fine.” She continued smiling at him even as he caught himself to avoid falling backwards out of his seat. “Though I suppose I’m the one who made you dye it black in the first place, aren’t I?”
“H-how did you know?” he stuttered, climbing back onto his crate.
“I control the fate of the world, remember?” She looked back at the stone. “I still don’t know how to deal with that, though.”
“Can’t you just will it away?” Jayven asked, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
“Not unless I know what’s behind it. Are you sure you have no ideas?”
Jayven shook his head, watching her closely. “Why don’t you go and ask Wardell? He claims to be a seer, after all. Like that one time he predicted I'd fall into a well. Of course, he actually predicted that my 'body and soul would fall out of balance today.'”
“Well, I could ask him, but any prophetic powers he might have are from me anyway,” she replied, snapping her fingers. The sinewy Wardell appeared in the room with a flash, another body in the already somewhat cramped storage room.
“Where the hell did you come from? I thought you were distracting the palace guards outside! Besides that, if you could do that, why didn't you do it before? And why didn't you show me? I had to enter through a window on the third floor!” Jayven shouted, confused. “I wouldn’t have had to avoid a dozen or so traps if you'd done this sooner!”
Wardell chuckled. “She did it. She does many things, if you would learn to watch carefully.”
"If she's your goddess, you should have some of her more useful powers," Jayven grumbled.
Wardell turned to Melissa, fixating his gaze on her face. “I am your servant, mistress. What would you have me do?”
Melissa raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what lies within the next room, if you know.”
“I cannot know if you do not know, mistress.” Wardell shuffled his feet, kicked up dust, leaned his back against a wall, and crossed his arms.
“I thought you had a vision of the future,” Jayven snickered. “It seems to have failed you for now.”
Melissa filled the room with a sigh. “There must be something in the next room. Maybe it’s a hallway? Maybe there’s a trap? Or maybe there are armed guards.” She ran her fingers through her hair.
“Perhaps. But none will know before you do, mistress.”
Jayven continued to tap his stick on the ground impatiently. “Why does there have to be anything in the room anyway? Why can’t things just be easy?”
Both of them looked sternly at him, and the temperature seemed to swell. “I already explained that,” said Melissa. “This world must be entertaining.”
"Oh, so a dragon burning the hamlet of Ishvale is entertaining?"
Wardell nodded. “The mistress knows there is something in the next room; therefore, there is something in the next room. The world is not built for your ease, nor for anyone else’s.” Wardell wiped the sweat from his brow.
“That’s a load of bull. You should see the cushy life of royalty; hell, even in this palace they always have a bed, don’t need to worry about any jobs, and have any good or service they could possibly want, anytime they want. Try and tell me that royalty doesn’t have life easy.” Jayven scowled, slamming his stick into the ground. His whole life had been spent on the streets begging and stealing for his next crumb of food.
“Royalty have different troubles from the common man, and the common man does not understand them.” Wardell smiled at Jayven. “You, of all people, should learn to listen to the ways of the mistress.”
“Are you talking about your goddess or this witch?”
“I take offense to that,” Melissa said quickly as she sat up.
“Please excuse this ruffian, mistress.”
“At least one of you knows the proper way to act around me. I’m not exactly your goddess, though.”
“No, but I know of your power nonetheless, and shall act accordingly,” Wardell replied, bowing his head to her.
“How do you know of her power when I don’t?” Jayven asked Wardell.
“Perhaps it is your lack of education and intuition.”
“Better than your blind obedience to greater powers,” Jayven sneered.
Melissa stood and the air boomed around her, commanding attention. “Can you two stop arguing for a few minutes and help me figure out what’s behind that door?” she asked, pointing. “I swear if it weren’t for Naila's skills as a mediator, you two would be at each other’s throats all the time.”
Jayven leaned forward. “Why don’t you bring the mage here, then? Maybe she can listen to the wind or something to find out what’s behind the damn door.”
“Yes, I think that is an excellent idea. Our remaining companion couldn't hurt matters,” Wardell nodded.
“Perhaps you boys should agree like that all the time,” laughed the robed woman as she flashed into the room. Her sweat glistened off of her dark skin, tattooed with spiraling white symbols of the wind. “We might actually get things done. Or do you prefer inaction? I can never tell with you two. And you both stink!” Naila waved her hand before her nose. “Who’s this lady?”
“She claims to hold the fate of the entire world, and everyone in it, within her hands. I think it’s a load of bull,” Jayven answered, jumping off of his crate. “In any case, we have an issue involving this big rock here.”
Naila stepped forward, gently touching the rock with her palm. “Bloc d’écrivain.” Melissa's eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure.
“You can read that?” asked Jayven.
“Yes. It is not in a script native to this world, but I can read it. It's my connection with the wind, you know?”
“That makes absolutely no sense.” Jayven slapped his forehead with his palm.
“Don’t criticize what you don’t understand,” replied Melissa. “Do you have any idea of what’s behind the door, Naila?”
“I do not know, but given the circumstances and our luck, it must be a challenge for poor Jayven here.” Naila ran her hand along the rough stone.
“Do you people live to torture me?” Jayven grumbled.
“I like to believe that I live to serve my mistress, not to torture you,” Wardell replied. "However, I do find it an amusing distraction."
"Lovely. Do you even do anything useful in the group? It's as though you're just here to bother me.”
Naila gripped her robes tightly. “Perhaps I could cast a spell to find out what’s behind this door?”
“Go for it,” Melissa said. “I’m willing to try anything at this point.”
“Sera matya zergu,” Naila began to chant, inscribing archaic symbols into the air. Jayven mostly ignored her. Magic was no longer unknown to him, and he knew there was little chance of his being able to pick up any spells, even as weak as the common cantrip, without the power of some sort of magical artifact. His thoughts turned to another matter that had been weighing heavily on his mind.
“Melissa, can I ask you a question?” Jayven stopped tapping his balancing stick.
“Of course you can ask. That doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll answer.”
“Our comrade who stayed behind on the bridge over the Serpent Trench.” Wardell and Naila both looked up. “Is he still alive?”
“Aileron is alive, and you’ll see him again. I could bring him in right now, if you’d like.”
“I’d rather not hear that walking piece of sheet metal prattle on about honor, duty, chivalry, and vengeance,” Jayven snapped.
“You were worried about him, friend. Do not deny it.” Wardell smiled, putting his hand on Jayven's shoulder. Jayven shrugged him off.
“Jayven? Worried? It’s actually somewhat adorable,” Naila snickered, but then stopped. “My spell failed, Miss. I was unable to determine what was behind the door, but I had a vision of a great beast .”
“A great beast? I didn't think about that. So do any of you have any ideas to add to that? We need to know what’s behind that door. It has to be challenging to Jayven, so it can’t be a simple trap or a few guards.”
Jayven grumbled. “I still don’t see why it has to be so difficult. Just give me the Gem already!”
“Let the mistress think!”
“Yes, let the woman think. What, are you opposed to thinking?” Naila rolled her eyes, smiling to herself.
“Ideas are welcome on the debate floor,” Melissa said, twirling a gavel in her hand.
Jayven blinked. "Where did that gavel come from?"
“Just shout random ideas that fit the criteria, and use your imagination please.”
Although unsure of how it would help, Jayven spoke after a moment of silence from the others. “Why not a complex trap? If it was complex enough you might get some entertainment from me trying to get past.” He could get past even the deadliest of traps.
“Maybe. Next!”
“I saw a great beast, so why not a guard monster? Something Jayven would have more difficulty overcoming.” Naila smirked. “Of course, knowing Jayven, he wouldn’t be able to get past it without my help. I'm the only truly useful one here, after all, as my magic is resourceful and powerfu-”
"You haven't been that useful in the past five minutes," Jayven interrupted. “In fact, you keep making things more difficult for me. Are you sure your magic is even worth taking along?”
“He can’t have your help, but that’s a good idea. Wardell?”
“Well, mistress, I actually have no ideas grand enough for you. Besides, while Jayven's struggles amuse me, I truly wish no misfortune upon him.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “And we were on a roll, too.” Her eyes brightened, and she looked at the gray stone. “A roll…”
“I don’t think I like this,” Jayven whimpered.
“I think I just overcame this writer’s block. Why don’t I do the old rolling-boulder trap leading him into a hallway filled with other traps that he has to avoid while avoiding being crushed, with a monster at the end that he can only defeat in time if he ducks into a small pit just before the boulder rolls over him…and flattens the monster?” She grinned enthusiastically.
Jayven widened his eyes. "Oh, crap. Wait, 'writer’s block?'" Wardell and Naila suddenly disappeared from the room. “What do you mean, 'writer’s block?'”
Melissa smiled at him. “Don’t worry. You’re safe in my hands.” She disappeared, and the heavy wooden door Jayven had opened shut.
Nobody remembers it afterwards, except me.
Jayven shook his head, trying to remember something. He couldn’t. Shrugging his shoulder, he gazed ahead at the door, thinking only about his prize. He opened the heavy oak door slowly, unsure what would lie in wait for him behind it.
