The Watchers

 Nyssa grimaced and gingerly pulled her leg towards her chest for a better look. Hot, sticky streams of blood poured over her fingers from the gash. Pain coursed through her limbs and her chest heaved for want of air. Her head tilted back to the stone behind her as she steadied her breath, pacing herself with each inhale and actively silencing superfluous thoughts and fears that attempted to race around her mind. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at the sheer cliff face she had just tumbled down. 

"If only I had been a Healer," she groaned under her breath. Her sight flicked down to a brace on her arm where some of the Mind Stones lay dormant. 

"A healing stone would not help you." A somber, soundless voice wafted over the air from somewhere nearby. 

"Who's there?" Nyssa started to her feet, but the searing pain in her leg shot through her once more and sent her toppling down involuntarily. She braced herself and regained control, looking cautiously around as she scrambled to return herself to an upright sitting position. Her hand wrapped around the cold handle of the knife at her thigh. 

"Stones will do nothing for you if you have not already mastered their gifts without their aid. You possess fortitude, but you are no healer. You have trained your mind, but you do not command your lifeblood. Yours are the Mind Stones. Healing stones would not answer you."

It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once; from within and without. It was softer than a whisper, but the ground beneath her and the air around her seemed to resonate with it. 

"What are you," she steadied herself, knife in hand, head level and eyes scanning intently around her. She calmed her breathing and felt the warm glow of the stones on her arms hum to life. 

There was no panic. No fear. No contempt. No resolve nor desire. This presence had either mastered the art of enshrouding its motives or else was so existentially vague that even the Mind Stones could not capture its intentions. Whatever it was conveyed only a subtle hint of .... curiosity? Or was it faint amusement? 

"We? We are not you."

"Thank you." She had surmised as much. The warmth of the stones grazed her arm and pressed against her thoughts. The hint of a laugh.

"We are not your kind. We are the Whisperers. The Unseen. The Unheard. But you hear us."

"Yes, that much seems to be true," she replied. Her eyes still scanned the area around and she slowly rose to her feet, supporting herself against the dusty stones of the cliff wall. She did not expect to see the source of the voices, but she was beginning to suspect their origins. 

"Others cannot hear you?" she continued.

"We have tried. None will listen," said they. 

"Yet you speak to me?"

"You have heard, so we speak." 

"And what would you say?"

"Ours are not words," said they. 

Whatever voice she had sensed permeating the area was instantly silenced. The echo of their words had been cut off. Instead there was a growing sea of knowing---something that could not be put into words even if words sufficed. An ancient sorrow, a burden, a solitude, an oath, an unyielding commitment. Thousands of years of toil and joy and purpose and loss, and all the time and space between, conveyed without a word. It felt akin to discerning intentions in others with the Soul Stones but amplified by a thousand. She had never experienced anything like it. 

Slowly, subtly, so quietly that she was not sure when it began, the voice returned. 

"We are the Watchers," it said. "And we are many. We have waited, and you have come." 

"You waited for me?"

"We waited for now." 

1

 The cabin was darker and smaller than she expected.

Given the grandeur of the ship and the raiment that adorned their hosts, Nyssa had half-expected to see walls lined with columns of gold or ornate statues at evert fascet staring out with solemn eyes. What she saw was a simple room with heavy wooden beams and a plain wooden desk with various documents stacked neatly into piles. An unremarkable window cast gray light over the shoulder of a man who was hastily jotting notes in an obtuse script onto parchment.

"A moment, please," he continued to scrawl words across the paper without averting his eyes. The usher beside her motioned to a chair in front of the desk. He bowed as he dismissed himself, closing the door soundlessly behind him and leaving Nyssa alone with the man opposite the desk.

She took her seat and eyed him. He was neither tall nor short, not overly muscular nor particularly thin. Silver-white strands of hair seemed to curve slightly upward at the ends of their own accord, but even from the obscure, half-turned angle of his face he did not appear old, though something in his bearing portrayed a maturity and self-sufficiency well beyond the years of youth. His clothing was fitted but lacked any notable detail beyond a red sash that hung loosely from his shoulder. As his head jerked with the turning of the page he was writing on, a metallic glint caught her eye from beneath strands of hair. His ears -- they were lined with more silver rings than the glance allowed her to count. 

"And there," the man sighed triumphantly to himself. He pressed a firm dot onto the page before quickly placing it atop one of the many piles that lay before him. "Now then. Remind me, your name?"

He looked up at her so suddenly Nyssa had to catch her breath. His eyes were startling. They gleamed metallic silver, but flecks of liquid gold darted like sparks around the irises. They were hauntingly beautiful.

"I-- N-Nyssa," she fought to compose herself. "I'm sorry-- I mean, my name is Nyssa Jaedyssia." 

"Nyssa! Please call me Erani," He said kindly, without a hint of recognition. His gaze returned to the piles of paper before him, pouring over one closest to him. "Nyssa, Nyssa...Ah! That's right, our Soul Stone selectee."

His finger tapped expectantly on a line of text. The man gave a confirming nod to himself before tearing his eyes from the page to look at her again. "You know, I may have been a little selfish putting you in my squadron. I hope you'll forgive me for that. In my line of work adept Soul Stone users like you are hard to come by, particularly ones that are fit for both the battlefield and cross-cultural affairs."

"I, I hope there hasn't been a misunderstanding...I don't know how to fight, sir." A torrential wave of anxiety rolled through her. She was meant to be an interpreter. No one had said anything about her fighting. 

"Hopefully you'll never have to--though we'll train you for the possibility, of course. We prefer to keep Soul Stone combatants as far from physical altercations as we can. Should it ever come to a fight, your priority will be relaying important information between our forces, with a network of other Soul Stone users. And--I must admit, this is where I've been very selfish--you'll be tasked with keeping the other Mind Stone Elite and I focused, should we start to fade in combat. There are only a handful of us so I pray this fact does not overwhelm you, but our martial skills rely heavily on mental clarity and focus at all times. Your gifts as a Soul Stone user are invaluable in impowering us if our own strength fails on the field--our survival could rest in your hands."

"I see. No pressure then," she grimaced sheepishly.

Erani wore a gentle expression as he studied her face. With a sympathetic smile he added, "You'll have plenty of training between now and any potential conflict. Rest assured I won't ask anything of you until you are ready and willing, but please understand it is a contingency we have to consider, should you decide to stay."

Should she decide to stay.

A thousand reasons to leave flooded Nyssa's mind, aggravated by the anxiety looming in the pit of her stomach. But she silenced her tumultuous thoughts and screwed up her courage. She knew the risks. She had never doubted them. But she knew she wanted this chance more than she feared the possibilities.  She would not surrender the opportunity now.

 "Of course," she said softly. "This is where I want to be." 

"I'm very glad to hear it! In that case, I'll free you to get some rest. It was a pleasure to meet you, Nyssa."

"You as well, s- er, Erani. I look forward to training, then." She gave her best attempt at a curtsy and a smile as she left.

Erani stood watching her go, chuckling to himself after she closed the door behind her. 

"Maybe not battle-ready, but I give her points for staying with us."