35: Revival

[Year 21 Month 5: Continued]

Without my near omniscience within my influence, I would have thought the dwarf to be dead, with its breathing being so shallow. A he, based on the body type, although I would have to wait and ask if I wanted to know for sure.

His white hair was trimmed short, but the beard was braided into thick cords, albeit frayed and almost brittle with age. His skin was a pale gray, almost the same shade as the stone the room was made of. The combination of white hair and grey skin made the dwarf look practically ancient, but his body didn’t show signs of rapid decay and wasn’t expelling mana by the droves, which was something that aging caused.

Helpfully, Codex chipped in, “Vital signs are faint but sustaining, the device appears to simulate a hibernation-like state. Slowing down the body’s aging by a truly incredible margin.”

How did you manage to build such a thing? It was astounding that such a thing could actually exist. In concept, it made sense, but imagining the research and testing that had to be done was astounding. If this was an example of what level of technology the dwarven race had reached, how did they all die?

The dwarf’s eyelids flickered for a moment; the tablet had likely turned off whatever fusion of magic and biotech that kept its resident unconscious. Knowing whatever happened next would be important, I decided to wait, observing every subtle change while he slowly awoke from the ancient slumber.

It was only after the flow of mana to the chair completely ceased that the dwarf truly stirred, whatever spell that had been cast upon him faltering.

Apparently, the pod detected his awakening, and the tubes that had filled the man with an unknown fluid hissed as they depressurized rapidly and fell away from the chair, unhooking themselves. Taking the barest fraction of a second to collect a sample of the residue, I shipped a few drops up to the surface on the back of an arachnid golem.

I hadn’t noticed before that the pipes had been removed, but the dwarf’s back was not all flesh, with several implants allowing for the fluids to easily enter his body. Looks like a basic form of cybernetics. I wonder if it was a common feature or only used in this instance?

Moments after the little construct skittered out of the room, the dwarf’s eyes flickered, a faint groan escaping the being’s throat, dry and horse from thousands of years of disuse.

Fingers gripping feebly at his chair, knuckles pale from the lack of blood. I suspected it would take a while for his organs to recover.

He will likely be dazed after his nap, somewhat like me after I go dormant for too long… now that’s an interesting thought.

Finally, the eyes fully opened, drawing my attention to their golden irises that seemed to shimmer like gold. At first, they were unfocused and staring off into space, but once the man began to blink, a hint of clarity entered his eyes.

It was clear he expected someone to have woken him, as confusion filled his gaze. As he observed the dusty room and the nearly scrap metal pod he had been in, a hint of somberness radiated from the dwarf.

Quietly, he murmured in a raspy whisper, “ᚺᛟᚹ ᛒᚢᚱᚾᛊ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚠᛟᚱᚷᛖ?”

Before I could even begin deciphering the strange language spoken, an unprompted system message appeared.

[Title: The Unearther of the Engarien Ruins -> Activated]
[Enables system communication of spoken Engarien]

This time, when the dwarf spoke, it was in archaic English, a bit hard to understand, but understandable with enough effort. Unfortunately, the symbols on the tablet stayed incomprehensible, the title only being applied to vocal.

“Broth’rs?” he weakly called, voice tinged with hopefulness. “Has’t thee awaken’d me?”

Pity for the dwarf washed over me. He was an ancient relic of a bygone age, no longer in his own era.

Assuming he decides to stick around, which is iffy, he will have a hard time adjusting. Especially since I doubt the system will translate for anyone else.

While I wasn’t sure if he was the only one left, considering the true scale of the ruins, it remained a strong possibility that I wouldn’t be finding another dwarf for a very long time at the pace I had been exploring the underground city.

Deciding I had left the poor soul hanging for a bit too long, I had one of my alloy soldier golems enter the room slowly, which caused the dwarf’s eyes to widen in a tiny bit of panic, but tempered with curiosity.

“No,” I spoke gently, intentionally causing my voice to project from the soldier golem. “Your brothers are not here.”

Eying the golem with no small amount of suspicion, “Not h’re? He echoed, his voice still weakened but gaining strength with every word.

He was obviously scanning the metal body I was currently piloting, “Then who is’t stands bef’re me, thou art nay dwarvish metal, nor of our construct.”

Before I could respond, his eyes glowed light blue, signaling a skill use. “Thou art a spirit?” He muttered, more rhetorically than as an actual question. “No chains to bind thou to metal nor flesh.” It was clear he was momentarily lost in his own thoughts, although he quickly refocused on me.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Taking a moment to prop himself up in the chair, the dwarf’s muscles strained against their usage. “Why has’t thee awaken’d me? Wh’re art mine own kin?”

Locking eyes with the golem’s decorative visor, he spoke once more, but this time, his accent was almost gone. “How longeth have I slumbered?”

****

Fal’el Loreforger was baffled.

When he had sealed the somnipod during the collapse, he suspected he would never wake, never having set a timer to its duration.

So when he had felt himself being pulled from his deep slumber, there was a long moment of confusion. He was excited, but who would have found him? As far as he knew, the Hidden Enemy had systematically wiped out most of the complex living organisms, including his own people.

Just the fact that someone must have survived to resuscitate Fal’el sent a wave of ecstasy through the dwarf; the despair he experienced was nothing to be trifled with, and even though his mind was muddied after waking, he knew it was a good sign that he was waking up at all.

For now, he would have to take it slow; his arms and eyes were heavy like lead, the long slumber having drained Fal’el of his energy. Yet, curiosity gave him the strength to open his eyes. He needed to know why he was awake.