Infinity Blade 01- Awakening

the unconscious Isa. Moving her didn’t seem to be a good idea, but remaining in this place—where the sounds of battle might have drawn attention—was a worse one. Siris moved to pick her up.
    “If I may suggest,” TEL said, “with a substance of stone, I am quite well equipped to carry large burdens without growing fatigued. If you would command me . . . ?”
    “Uh, pick her up.”
    “Excellent,” TEL said, kneeling down and easily lifting Isa. “I might suggest that you fetch the sword, as I have been commanded not to touch that particular item.” He walked off, humming to himself.
    Siris shook his head, walking out into the river and retrieving the Infinity Blade. He summoned his shield to him, then—after a moment of hesitation—ran off to get the horse and their supplies.
    “I can’t answer that question,” TEL said happily. “I have been instructed not to speak on the immortality of the Deathless or how they obtained their status.”
    “Well what can you tell me?” Siris asked with exasperation.
    “Many things!” TEL said. He walked beside Siris, still carrying Isa. She was unconscious, but TEL seemed to be capable of carrying her with a much smoother gait than Siris could manage, so he tried not to worry too much.
    The foothills of the mountains still rose on either side of them, the sky blurry with a haze that occasionally dropped a fine misting rain. The stream at the center of the valley had grown in size until it was now truly a river, though they didn’t travel directly along it. He hoped that following a harder trail might divert them from trouble.
    “Indeed,” TEL continued. “My knowledge is wide and varied. I can explain why the sky is blue, for example. Or I can list the ingredients in lentil soup. I can tell you what time it is in Loher’s Depths right at this moment. I can explain why—”
    “What’s a ‘Cue Eye Pee’?” Siris cut in. “The deadmind at the God King’s palace spoke of something like that when it attuned me to one of these rings. You mentioned it again, when talking about those daerils.”
    “Q.I.P.,” TEL said. “Quantum Identity Pattern. The individual quantum signature inherent in every sentient being, as related to his or her ancestors. It is similar to, but completely separate from, a person’s physical DNA.”
    “Their what?”
    “I believe,” TEL said, “that you lack the proper scientific understanding for this conversation to proceed with specific details. A simpler explanation is in order. Your Q.I.P. is what you might call your soul. Yours is individual to you, but is separate from your physical form.”
    “And it’s related to my ancestors?”
    “Indeed,” TEL said. “A person’s descendants will have a Q.I.P.—a soul—that manifests their parentage.”
    “So this sword drains souls,” Siris said. “And it needs to drain enough of them from my . . . my bloodline, is it? From my bloodline before its powers manifest.”
    “That is an extremely simplified way of explaining it,” TEL said, sounding displeased. “It speaks nothing of Q.I.P. alignment—indeed, it speaks nothing of science at all! But for an ignorant peasant, it will do.”
    “The God King was hunting my family,” Siris said, mostly to himself. “He wanted my bloodline specifically. He baited us, created the idea of Sacrifices so that we’d come to him and die by his sword. But what is it about my family that is special?”
    “I’m afraid I cannot answer that question, as it would conflict with my orders.”
    “I didn’t mean it for you,” Siris said, though he was interested to hear that TEL had been ordered not to speak of Siris’s family specifically. It confirmed a growing suspicion he had that TEL had been sent by the God King to spy on Siris.
    Every step I go, I’m surrounded by people who would betray me if given half a chance. That made him worry again about Isa. He checked the horizon; the sun was nearly down. Time to set up camp.
    He chose the location as best he could. He found a place where some fallen leaves made the ground soft. He spread out Isa’s coat—which he’d fetched from the river—to catch a few last rays of sunlight and hopefully dry off.
    TEL set her down in a nook beside some rocks. Siris dealt with the horse—the thing only managed to get one good bite in—and brought back the saddle blanket for Isa. He knelt beside her, touching her hand. It was clammy and frigid. “She’s so cold.”
    “Indeed,”