Osira had often been beside him then, her laughter a faint melody now swallowed by that same void. The memory of her smile tugged at his heart, drawing him deeper into the past¡ªto the day they first met, to the life they shared before... all of this.
But the present surged back into focus, a cold wind cutting through his reverie. His eyes, once filled with the dreams of knowledge, now held the darkness that flickered around his body, the twilight cloak licking at the air as he concentrated on the siege ahead. The time for reflection was over¡ªnow, only war remained.
His army waited in silence behind him, tension rising off of them like heatwaves in the cold air, a lull before the coming storm. He felt the answering fear as it poured forth from the battlements before him.
Were they afraid of the battle to come, or of him? Was this truly what he had become? He pushed the thought from his mind. There was no room for it now. He had to focus.
Torches lined the stone walls of the castle and fought to shine through the inky waves of eldritch power. Occasionally, a piece of light would find its way to cast the faintest glint upon the Roandian soldiers¡¯ armor.
Inside the castle, hidden in a secret chamber within the king¡¯s quarters, lay the beautiful Osira. Her thick black hair splayed out across a makeshift cot as her entire body sweat in exhaustion. The chambermaids that attended her had never delivered a baby before.
Though in a few moments, that would change.
This fact was not what was troubling Osira.
She clung tightly to the emerald crystal that hung from her neck and tried to focus through the pain. The crystal glowed gently through the gaps in her fingers. Her tears were not from the pain or coursing adrenalin. Nor were they for her own life.
These concerns were pushed far from her mind by the single, dominating demand she made.
¡°Protect my children.¡± The crystal hummed in understanding.
In the corner of the room, a small dust of light that called itself Pik chimed anxiously.
¡°I know, but what can we do about it? We can''t take on the whole cursed army ourselves,¡± Bertrude complained, his voice a blend of frustration and helplessness as he cleaned his unusually large, pointed ears with a silver letter opener he had ¡°found.¡± His stout half-goblin frame was taut with tension, every muscle coiled as if ready to spring. The dim light caught on his mottled greenish-brown skin, highlighting its rough texture. Unruly chestnut hair tumbled into his sharp, angular face, partially obscuring the vivid emerald of his eyes, which glinted with a fierce, watchful intensity.
Pik chimed sharply.
¡°Alright, alright, no need to get nasty,¡± Bertrude sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave her either. But we have our orders.¡±
Pik¡¯s green glow dimmed slightly as he let out a low whizz.
¡°I know, old friend. I don¡¯t like it either. But the children must survive.¡±
When midnight found them, the air was damp and thick. If not for the cursed darkness filling the sky, the moonlight might have struggled past the impending storm clouds and cast a solemn light across the two armies. But, it did not.
¡°Steady!¡± The king, resplendent in Roandian blue steel, paced the battlements.
He barked orders and profanities to the Masters of War.
The Master of Archers repeated his orders, shouting his own curses and critiques at his men, adjusting their armor and their aim. Memories of his younger days as a simple farmer, before the war changed him, flickered in his mind. The Master of Swords followed suit, slamming his gauntlets on the back of a slightly slouched swordsman, nearly knocking him to the floor. He remembered his own training, the harsh discipline that had shaped him into the warrior he was today.
The soldier did not cry out, but saluted as he rejoined the ranks. This was a familiar thing, the only comfort they had, and the familiarity of it helped the soldiers stand their guard.
The king strode across the ramparts with more confidence than he felt, each step a battle against the gnawing fear in his gut. ¡°If you move before I command, the creatures below will be the least of your worries!¡± His voice echoed in the night.
He stared down at the darkness below, trying to pierce it with his mind. He did not see Henry so much as he felt his presence. And with that, Henry felt him. The blade of the king¡¯s sword glowed faintly as the crystal embedded in the hilt hummed.
¡°We could spare these men,¡± the king whispered into the night.
¡°And spare the fun?¡± A silent whisper came back.
Suddenly the clouds were ripped by a blinding flash of light and the dull pound of thunder. Streaks of white tore at the sky and then vanished, consumed by the dark curse above. Thunder rolled like stone giants in the distance and rain crashed down upon both men and undead alike.
The minions of darkness began to march, and the earth trembled beneath their iron-clad feet. Their march quickened to a trot and then surged into a full run. The ground pounded in unison with the hearts of the defending soldiers. Arms trembled, not only from fear or exhaustion, but from the quaking earth beneath them. They had stood there, poised and ready, since the first whispers of night crept across the horizon. The once vibrant energy of anticipation had long faded, replaced by a bone-deep weariness and the relentless grip of dread.
¡°Steady, damn you! Steady!¡±
An infinity passed in a moment.
¡°Fire!¡±
Arrows mixed with the night¡¯s sky and found their marks along the ground. Blood of all shades spat across the grass from the injured creatures. Cries of pain turned to vicious howls as the army of terror surged forward faster.
¡°Lightning Acid, ready!¡±
His orders were repeated in shouts across the length of the crenelated walls. Men with glass vats of glowing liquid moved gingerly to the edge, careful not to spill a drop.
¡°Release!¡±
As the undead creatures reached the base of the castle and began to claw, the glowing green death poured over their heads. Shrieking hisses filled the night air as the alchemical solution quickly ate through the nearest invading forces.
Clouds of arrows filled the sky and fell with the rain upon the encroaching undead. The undead creatures wore little protection from arrows and appeared to hold no regard for their own wellbeing. As they fell, more climbed over their still bodies and fought through the falling acid and steel. Not a single answer of arrows came in return, only the vicious howling of undead beasts and gnashing of teeth.
Minutes became hours became lifetimes.
Horns blared out from across the undead army, and more creatures surged forward, an unending torrent clawing their way past their fallen brethren.
They piled up the wall and a few of the foul creatures made it to the parapets. Lightning flashed again and seared the sky for a moment before being eaten once more by darkness.
The men upon the battlements poured down vat after vat of alchemical acid, followed by enormous stone boulders, crushing the undead creatures below and causing them to collapse upon themselves - all in a vain attempt to stem the tide.
The battlefield seemed to pulse and surge in sync with Henry''s own heart. He allowed the darkness to lift for a moment, granting the candles and moonlight a breath of freedom. In that moment, the horde of creatures became clearly visible to the Roandians, the horrific sight piercing them to their core.
When ropes and claws failed to get his undead successfully over the battlements, a new approach had to be used.
Henry admired his handiwork as his army surged past him and battered themselves against the castle walls. Grotesque half-faces, patchwork figures, amalgamations of bone and steel¡ the sight was more horrifying than death itself.
Henry felt the waves of fear roil off the castle and smiled a bitter, wicked smile.
He welcomed the fear, drawing it in with each slow breath as it seeped into his core, intertwining with his aether like a dark current, quietly fueling his power.
¡°Goodbye,¡± he sent a thought to the king.
He reached into his cloak and grabbed the black crystal that hung from his neck. Holding it to the night sky, he cried out. All the pain and hate that filled him flooded the crystal and it lit with a black void of energy that enveloped all that touched it. Lightning crackled in the sky.
It struck the ground not fifty paces from him. Then it struck again before cascading in a searing line through his soldiers, ripping skeletal figures in half.
Sacrifices must be made, he thought, and urged the ripples of lightning towards the castle.
When it met the castle walls, not even the king himself could hold it back. The wall beneath the king staved in like brittle clay beneath a mallet and he was swallowed by an avalanche of stone and steel.
The undead army poured in.
Henry pulled out his User Interface stone, a rough, silver device barely larger than his palm. Its edges were jagged and the mismatched pieces of metal hinted at its hasty assembly. The runes carved into its surface flickered weakly, some already fading.
He took a deep breath and activated the stone. Instantly, his HUD flickered to life, but it was far from functional. The screen shook violently, and the usual clear text was replaced by garbled symbols and fragmented words.
| S??????????????????????y????????????????????-???????????#????????????????????t???????????????????e??????????????????????m??????????????????????????? ?????????????S????????????????t?????????????????@?????????t?????u???????????????????????????s????????????????:???????????????? ???????????????????????"??????????????????E?????????????????r???????????????????r??????????????????#??????????????????*?????????????????????.????????????? ???????????I?????????n???????????????????????????t???????e?????????????????????????????r??????????????????g?????????????????????r???????????????a??????????????????????????t???????????????????i??????????????????o??????n??????????????????? ?????F??????????????????????a?????????????????????i???????????????????l???????u??????????????????????????r???????????????e???????????????????????????? |
Henry squinted, trying to decipher the jumbled messages. It felt as if the universe itself resisted the integration, the world pushing back. He tried to navigate through the chaotic interface, but each tap only resulted in more distortion. His health, aether pool, and quest log was lost in a sea of glitches.
He sighed and closed the HUD with a frustrated swipe. "Great," he muttered. "Just what I needed."
I¡¯ll have to let the support team know about this, he thought, pocketing the stone. For now, there were more pressing matters.
Cries of a different sort came from the hidden chamber where Osira lay.
¡°He¡¯s beautiful,¡± a chambermaid said softly, placing the first child in Osira¡¯s trembling arms.
Osira smiled weakly, tears of joy mingling with the sweat on her face, but her relief was short-lived as another wave of pain seized her.
¡°The other one is coming,¡± the chambermaid said, her hands moving swiftly. ¡°Keep pushing, my lady. One more to go.¡±
Exhausted, Osira summoned the strength to bear down once more, the room filled with tense anticipation, punctuated by the cries of the firstborn.
Finally, a second, stronger cry echoed through the chamber as the twin was born. The midwife quickly cleaned and wrapped the baby, placing him gently beside his brother in Osira¡¯s arms.
Pik wisped anxiously.
¡°Praise Eileithyia,¡± the maid whispered.
¡°I¡¯m not crying. Just got something in my eye,¡± Bertrude protested, rubbing furiously at his face with a sodden sleeve. The motion only acted to smear dirt across his eyes and cheeks.
The roar of undead crept closer.
Osira soothed the babies, whispering, ¡°Hello, Alexander. Hello, Greyson,¡± her voice trembling with a mixture of relief and resolve. She took a moment to embrace them, inhaling their scent, feeling the gentle rise and fall of their breaths. Some moments last longer than others, and she willed this one to stretch as long as the gods would allow. In that fleeting eternity, she held them forever, feeling the rapid beats of their tiny hearts against her chest.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Alexander, with strikingly bright gray eyes, stared up at her with a calm, curious gaze, his tiny hand reaching out to clutch her finger with surprising strength. Greyson, with darker, stormy gray eyes, squirmed restlessly, his small cries louder and more demanding.
There was no sadness to be felt, only a deep and unending love. She marveled at their differences, the quiet strength of the first and the fiery spirit of the second. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she smiled, savoring the warmth of their tiny bodies and the soft cooing and cries they made.
But like all moments, this one too had to end.
¡°Fetch Harkenwell from the hall.¡±
Her words were certain and martial.
A chambermaid darted from view and returned moments later with the king¡¯s guardsman, a tall, tanned figure. Though Hark and Osira were roughly the same age, his scars and ivory hair made him seem older, his youth stolen by years of war and strained magic.
¡°It¡¯s time, Hark. We need to move fast now.¡± She whispered an enchantment, and the babies fell asleep.
He nodded and drew a pouch from his leather satchel.
¡°Are you sure we can trust these two?¡± He asked Osira, nodding towards Bertrude and Pik. If they felt offended, they said nothing. The scrape of claws and howls of hate continued to grow nearer.
¡°I trust Bertie and Pik with my life,¡± she said. Bertrude flushed at the pet name.
This seemed enough for Hark. He knelt beside Bertrude and handed him the pouch, pausing before letting go.
¡°Use this when you are outside of the kingdom and beyond the Trackers. The boys must survive. If either dies, so do you.¡± The last statement was not a threat, but a warning. If they died, so would they all.
Hark allowed himself a glance at the newborn boys sleeping in their mother¡¯s arms and instantly regretted it. Emotion swelled in his throat, but he shoved it down, steeling himself for what was to come.
Pik hummed.
Osira wrapped them in warm cotton blankets and handed them to Bertie.
¡°Now go! And don¡¯t stop for anything or anyone,¡± Osira said as she sat straight in her bed and forced an air of command to her voice.
A small servants¡¯ entrance opened and closed and Bertie, Pik and the children were gone.
Only then did she allow herself to feel the loss, sobbing in deep, gasping breaths.
Henry let his hold of the darkness relax across the night sky and the moon burst through in all its wonder. The rain was fading then and had waned to little more than a trickle, leaving the stars visible and bright. But their light came with little hope or joy.
Men, unlike undead, grow tired and hungry and Henry relied upon this fact. It only took a few hours of battle within the castle walls before most of the remnant soldiers had either died or surrendered to him.
Henry walked along the halls of the castle, slightly peeved that the king¡¯s sword and Shard was lost beneath the rubble. He knew his creatures would find it, eventually.
Bodies lay lifeless at his feet, and he took solace as he made a mental count. This would raise quite the army for him when he had time to summon their remains.
Two skeletal figures walked behind him. He called them Death Knights, for each was worth a dozen enemy soldiers. And each was the product of a month¡¯s conjuring.
His Black Shard warmed upon his neck, telling him that another was close.
His lesser minions raced ahead of him, crashing into walls and breaking open doors, leaving a cacophony of wreckage in their wake.
A blue light exploded from the king¡¯s chambers and several undead flew out the door and fell into crumpled heaps.
Henry smiled darkly and walked closer, urging his Death Knights ahead of him. They entered the room and flew out in a burst of light. Two months of work, lost.
¡°Hark, I thought I¡¯d find you here!¡± Henry called down the hall.
Another burst of blue light streamed from the room and bent itself toward Henry¡¯s voice.
¡°Temper, temper. Let¡¯s not be too hasty. I just want to chat, for old times¡¯ sake.¡±
¡°What happened to you? It¡¯s not too late to stop this,¡± Hark called out.
Yes, it was.
Rage dug into Henry¡¯s chest. He clung to his heart and felt the cold crystal. He let it numb him, and his feelings faded. "Where is she?"
"You''re too late. She''s gone," Hark replied from around the corner, his tone casual, almost bored. "She left the moment she knew you were coming."
The words struck Henry like a blow, and for a moment, he faltered, his shoulders sagging under the weight of despair. He had fought through the hordes, driven by a single purpose¡ªto find her. Now, that purpose felt hollow, slipping through his fingers like quicksilver.
I need to talk to her... to reach her somehow.
He had believed¡ªno, he had hoped, desperately¡ªthat if he could just speak with her here¡
Hark¡¯s voice softened, a rare tenderness creeping into his flat tone. "Stop this, Henry. Please, I don¡¯t want to hurt you."
A cold, deadly calm had took hold, and his fists clenched as anger simmered beneath his skin. "Too late," he murmured, his voice low, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "Let¡¯s not pretend to be friends, Hark. Orisa isn¡¯t here to see us play nice. But not all is lost, I suppose. At least she won''t witness what I¡¯m about to do to you."
Hark''s eyes narrowed, his softness vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "As you wish."
With a flick of his wrist, Hark sent a bolt of searing energy toward the door. Henry moved like a shadow, diving beneath the burning light, his body a blur of motion. In a fluid movement, he hurled a beam of black energy into the chamber, its darkness cutting through the air like a blade, and rushed in behind it.
Hark had only a moment to deflect or he would have been baked beneath its dark-fire heat.
In answer, he sent blue beams of energy to slash out at Henry.
Henry parried them with ease and sent the broken beams flying off in every direction. Chairs burst into flame as the blue light splashed against them. The king¡¯s bed collapsed. The stone ceiling ruptured, strips of itself flinging down.
Torrent after torrent shot from the dueling men. Black and blue energy swirled around the room, drawing into a vortex of chaos.
The darkness crept closer and closer to Hark. Lashes of black velvet licked at his face, leaving lines of red flesh. Henry smiled and pressed forward.
¡°Tyr, hear me. I need your strength.¡± Hark cried out. He whispered a Word of Power, summoning a protection field around him.
Henry laughed, his voice a tortured rasp, ¡°Your gods can¡¯t help you now.¡±
The darkness grew closer and Hark bent onto a knee, pouring his entire essence into his concentration. But it wasn¡¯t enough.
Rage and tainted joy covered Henry¡¯s face. Black ink spilled from his very skin. He laughed as he gave himself to the darkness. He would need to surrender to it if he was going to make the killing blow.
Hark felt the end coming closer.
And then green light filled the room.
¡°Enough!¡± Osira shouted, as pulses of brilliant green shot from her outstretched hands.
In that moment, Henry lost focus, his concentration broken by her sudden appearance. Wild black tendrils of energy, barely contained, swung madly around him.
¡°Osira?¡±
Time slowed.
It had been nine months since Henry had seen her. Golden robes wrapped around her body, covering all but her arms and face. Her cheeks were flushed, and eyes shined bright from tears.
He reached out to her with his mind but was immediately rebuffed.
¡°What are you hiding?¡± He thought to her.
She fought to keep up a screen against his intrusions. Something was different, but what was it? With a surge of effort, he pierced her mind for the barest moment.
The answer came with a flood of emotion that nearly knocked Henry to the floor.
¡°A child?¡± Henry called out.
He tried to stop the current of energy he had unleashed, but he couldn¡¯t.
Once he had given himself over to the darkness, there was no way back.
Hate turned to fear as the tendrils poured out from him.
Hark charged forward in that moment, gripping Henry by the neck and using his focus to hold him.
Henry tried to scream, tried to tell Osira to run, but nothing came out¡ªHark''s grip was too tight.
¡°Hark, stop!¡± Osira shouted.
Hark did not stop. The fate of the kingdoms was in his very hands in that moment. The countless deaths that could be prevented¡ he had no choice but to squeeze tighter.
Green light flashed out and crashed into Harks side, knocking him to the floor.
The vortex grew unchecked.
¡°Stop this, Henry!¡±
¡°Run!¡± He screamed, choking through his strained neck. But it was too late.
Shards of darkness encased the room, the walls pulled in and the ceiling gave way.
Henry focused everything he had left within him on the crystal. It would not obey. In a final act of desperation, he slammed the black jewel as hard as he could upon the stone floor, willing it gone with every part of his mind. He could feel it crack. It was a deep, guttural feeling. Like suddenly forgetting something important and knowing you have forgotten it.
There was a scream. And then silence.
The black vortex calmed and then faded from the room.
There was no sound now. He frantically looked around, searching for any sign of her. Dust and blood fogged his vision. His heart met his throat when he saw her.
Her hand lay still, jutting out from under a stone slab. He rushed to her, but he knew it was too late. He grasped her hand in his and prayed to Hades, but there was no pulse and Hades did not respond.
He looked around, his mind numb, senses dulled.
Hark was nowhere to be found.
The night became silent. And a new darkness found the room.
This last darkness was not one of magic and power, but of hope lost and a shattered soul.
Horns and drums sounded behind them as the half-goblin and pixie raced as fast as their will would take them.
¡°They¡¯ve found us!¡± cried Bert. ¡°And they are coming!¡±
Doom, doom, doom - with each beat of the drum, the earth shook beneath them.
Pik whzed fiercely.
¡°No!¡± said Bert. ¡°There¡¯s no chance we can take them. We have to hide.¡±
Another shrill horn-call bleated into the night¡¯s sky, the stomp of hooves and the clank of steel close behind it.
¡°There! Under that.¡±
Bert and the twins, with Pik in tow, dashed to a large felled tree; its slightly hollowed carcass providing a small canopy of cover against the moonlight. They tucked their bodies as close as they could against the rough bark. Pik dimmed himself into darkness. Alexander and Greyson were blissfully silent, still asleep either because of or despite the rhythm of the run, Bert could not say.
They waited for what felt like a year in a single, agonizing moment. A rustle of bushes sounded just feet away, sending a shiver down Bert¡¯s spine. He fought several urges within him then - the burning impulse to look, the desperate need to flee. But his wits told him to stay steady and still.
The sound of hoofs drew nearer until they were right behind them. His heart throbbed in his chest and he covered his mouth to muffle his breathing. In the moonlight he could see the faint shadows of a horsed figure standing above and behind them. It moved closer and Bert could just make out the horse¡¯s bit as it flashed in the light.
This was no normal horse. A stench filled the air. Rotting flesh mixed with fresh blood and dirt.
Even more terrifying than the sight and smell was what was not present. There was no sound. No breathing from either the horse or its rider.
The creature moved closer still. When it passed the tree it stopped. Its head tilted from side to side as if trying to peer through the darkness.
A thick, feral fear took hold of Bert, and he clenched his hands on the bag Hark had given him. He knew that if he used it now, they would be tracked, and the boys¡¯ safety couldn¡¯t be assured.
His breath caught in his lungs, and it became terribly real to him how easily he could escape certain death if only he used it now. His hands were frozen, fixed between the two urges. He fought against his fear with all the might and courage of his goblin ancestors. He wasn¡¯t sure it would be enough, but he clung to that hope.
At that moment the creature turned its head sharply to the side. In the distance a blue flash of light shot into the sky followed by the red flicker of flames.
Horns blew again and the creature kicked hard at its horse, taking off at a full gallop.
The moment it was out of earshot, Bert took off with babies in arm and Pik beside. They didn¡¯t know what caused the flame in the distance, but whatever it was, they would not waste the gift it gave them.
They raced on until they safely cleared the kingdom¡¯s limits and were outside of the Tracker¡¯s abilities.
¡°We are far enough.¡± Bert emptied the contents of the bag on the ground in front of them. A silver dust spread itself along the dirt and hummed anxiously, awaiting their next words. ¡°A rush of wind, a flash of light, far away and lost from sight,¡± he chanted the incantation; just as Osira had made him practice.
And with that they were gone.
Far away and lost from sight.
Henry activated his heads-up-display and selected [Log Out]. A timer counted down from ten and he was safely exported back to reality. Unjacking his VR set, he took a breath to gather himself and get oriented in his surroundings. His HUD faded, replaced by the familiar interface of the real world. His heart pounded as he wiped the sweat from his face.
|
Session Complete
Duration: 7 hours 12 minutes Standard Time.
Time Dilation at 42-1.
In Game Duration: 12 Days 14 hours, 24 minutes.
|
¡°Clock, check. Grey walls, check. Bed, check. Window, check.¡± His eyes and equilibrium took a moment to reset, and he assisted them by noting familiar objects around the room. He shook his head, trying to focus as the intense emotions of the game faded, becoming no stronger than the remnants of a dream.
The simulations were getting more and more real each time he jacked in. And if he was being honest with himself, he was getting more into the mind-mapping experience. He didn¡¯t mind being studied by the integrated AI of the gaming system. He was used to this interaction. What caught him off guard were the intricacies and depth this game went through to analyze him, learn from him, and even predict him.
While inside, it didn''t feel like a game. If someone had told him it wasn''t real, he would have dismissed them as crazy. But now... he couldn''t understand how he had ever thought otherwise.
When he had first signed up for the trial group, the agency told him that there might be side effects, but this was on a whole different level. He had never given much interest to VR gaming, and the horrible media coverage made him even less inclined. ¡°What effect does this have on young minds?¡± he recalled a newscaster asking pointedly. He didn¡¯t really buy into all the worry. But still, he didn¡¯t like them. They were unreal. They were distractions. They were¡ his only means of making a living, if you could call it that.
Since the war, and then the famine, times were tough. A man took work where he could get it.
He leaned back in his bed and stared up into the darkness of his downtown studio flat. Ubiquitous city sounds filled the room and helped him to orient himself further.
The image of Osira lingered vividly in his mind. "Queen Osira," he chuckled to himself, the title tinged with bittersweet nostalgia.
His heart ached as he opened her profile in his Grid Interface. He wanted to call her but he knew how that conversation would go - the same as it had for months now. He hesitated, his gaze fixed on her picture. They hadn''t really spoken much since... well, since the game and all that had come with it. It was as if she didn''t know him anymore. With a heavy sigh, he closed the profile.
His neighbor¡¯s heliport clanked in preparation for a landing, and the sirens along the street were momentarily drowned out by the electric whoosh-whoosh of single passenger propeller blades slowing.
He needed to eat. He needed to relieve himself. He needed¡ he needed to get back into the game.
Henry had been playing for the past seven hours, real-world time, without a break. He wasn¡¯t hungry. He hadn¡¯t been hungry in a long time. He would make note of that for the testers. He forced himself to address his physical concerns first, checking his messages while preparing a meal ration. Advertisement after advertisement flashed across his viewfield. A notification lit small in the corner of his vision.
¡°1 New Message¡ From: Citywide Health.¡±
¡°I¡¯m calling for Henry Williams to confirm his appointment for this Tuesday at 8AM. Please call, message back or¡¡± Henry deleted it and swiped the notification from his view. He forced himself to eat half the ration. His stomach flexed in protest, and he felt the familiar shivers ride along his nerves.
He fumbled for his pills and downed two with a glass of water.
He placed the sleek, metallic helmet back on his head and jacked the VR cord into his cerebral adapter. A large blue pop-up notification appeared in his viewfield.
|
Sunday, March 9th, 2232, 10:17 PM
System Connected
Session 247, Game Beta Test
Code Name: Terra Mythica
Initialize Session?
Accept | Reject
|
He paused for a moment.
¡°She had a child¡ a child?¡±
He shook his head and punched [Accept].
Previously On...
Previously On...
So, here¡¯s what you missed (book one and two).
The world is dying, and everyone knows it. But is the alternative worse?
Welcome to Terra Mythica, the virtual escape that¡¯s less ¡°harmless diversion¡± and more ¡°all-in wager on your soul.¡± Time bends here¡ªforty-two hours inside for every one outside. Hunger fades, the weight of reality lifts, and even the lowest of the low can claw their way to greatness. That is, if you¡¯re lucky enough to snag one of those impossibly rare golden tickets.
Jace wasn¡¯t supposed to make it in¡ªhis ticket wasn¡¯t meant for him. He cheated, and now it¡¯s catching up to him.
As the reluctant prot¨¦g¨¦ of Hades, Jace finds himself thrust into Mount Olympus University, where gods treat Travelers like pieces on a chessboard, and the line between real and digital blurs with every step.
Here, survival is about more than just staying alive¡ªit¡¯s about clinging to your mind before it slips away, lost in this strange never-never land.
But Terra Mythica didn¡¯t pop up out of nowhere.
Long before the ¡°game¡±, humanity was circling the drain. Wars raged. Famine spread. Then came the Virus, and a techno-plague that fried everything running on ones and zeroes. The world¡¯s brightest minds decided the solution was... a complete technological reset. Out went the smart devices, and in came dusty VHS tapes and typewriters. Got caught with a calculator? Let¡¯s just say people learned to do math the old way.
Then everything changed. It was sudden and created worldwide whiplash.
John Rearden, a gas station attendant with a knack for breaking the rules of reality, invented Excelsior Deep Dive VR¡ªa system immune to the Virus, unhackable, and decades ahead of its time. Suddenly, tech was back, and John went from flipping switches at the pump to flipping entire economies on their heads. He built an empire of neon-lit streets and functioning factories upon the ashes of our old world.
It wasn¡¯t much, but in a world teetering on collapse, it was everything.
Enter Terra Mythica: the crown jewel of John¡¯s empire and humanity¡¯s golden ticket to a better life¡ªor so they said. Win in the game, and you win in the real world. In-game gold converts to real-world cash. Crafting, raiding, even guild politics can pay your rent. But spots in Terra Mythica are limited: a few scholarships, an annual lottery, and whispers of backdoor deals for the rich and connected. Everyone else? Better luck next year.
For Jace, luck had nothing to do with it. His twin brother, Alex, lay comatose, trapped in a limbo between life and death. The game was supposed to be Alex¡¯s shot at salvation, but when tragedy struck, Jace took his place, determined to save his brother no matter the cost.
And oh, what a cost it¡¯s been.
Terra Mythica isn¡¯t your average MMO.
Gods meddle.
Sanity frays.
And Respawn? That¡¯s a coin toss.
Jace lands in Mount Olympus University, where you don¡¯t just pick a major; you pick a deity¡ or rather, they pick you.
Zeus has the preppy crowd, Athena has the intense and brilliant, and Hades is¡well, apparently super into moody underworld aesthetics and has a bit of a dad-vibe.
Jace gets marked by Hades, which is either the best or worst thing to ever happen to him. On the bright side, it grants him the title of Twilight Guardian and leadership of the Society of Hades (he¡¯s the only member, so not as big of an accomplishment as you might think). Oh, and it basically paints a cosmic target on his back, making him the star quarterback in an interdimensional grudge match. Pro tip: always read the fine print before signing up with the god of the Underworld.
Despite being the lone underworld club member, Jace manages to assemble a scrappy group of allies. There¡¯s Dex, the cocky rogue who treats danger like a dance floor and can¡¯t stop talking about his finesse. Ell, the stoic fighter with a hard exterior and a knack for strategy, but deep down, she¡¯s got a heart of gold. Thistle, a gnome tank who¡¯s had enough near-death experiences to last several lifetimes but still throws himself in the line of fire when it counts. And Alice, the brilliant, macabre genius whose love for arcane secrets is matched only by her staggering awkwardness and her eyes. Together, they form a team as chaotic as it is effective.
Jace also makes some enemies, like Marcus, the combat mage with Zeus-backed powers and an ego to match. Marcus is the guy who¡¯s always ¡°better than,¡± and he makes sure everyone knows it.
In classic ¡°this is why we can¡¯t have nice things¡± fashion, Jace stumbles into some bad decisions. Such as triggering a deathmatch trap meant for the faculty and the all-powerful Archmage Theon.
Naturally, this puts Jace and his friends in the crosshairs of a zombie spider horde and, oh yeah, the Dark One himself. It¡¯s as freaky and terrible as it sounds.
That¡¯s Book One in a nutshell: Jace tries not to get eaten by monsters.
Which brings us to what happened next.
In Book Two, things go from ¡°Uh-oh¡± to ¡°We are so screwed.¡± Jace can¡¯t log out. Everyone else can¡¯t, either. Of course that¡¯s right when campus drama hits an all-time high¡ªpossession, shady backstabbing, general teenage meltdown on cosmic steroids. Whispers say Terra Mythica is an actual realm, not some fancy VR code. Whispers turn into warnings, and warnings into undeniable truth: Terra Mythica isn¡¯t just a game. It¡¯s another world¡ªalive, ancient, and far deadlier than anyone dared to imagine.
At first, Jace thought the cracks he saw were just glitches¡ªartifacts of an overactive imagination. But the deeper he delves, the clearer it becomes: the fractures aren¡¯t in the game¡ªthey¡¯re in reality itself.
And respawn? Yeah, we start seeing some solid evidence that it was never as safe as advertised. Side effects may include: loss of sanity, forgetfulness, upset stomach, indigestion, your immortal essence being lost in the void¡ªtorn into infinite pieces and scattered across the far realms.
Now, he¡¯s caught between two collapsing worlds, with the weight of his brother¡¯s life¡ªand maybe everyone else¡¯s¡ªresting on his shoulders.
Oh, and students are going a little nuts. Possessions are all the rage. And lucky Jace, with his Soul Affinity and Twilight Guardian abilities, becomes the go-to exorcist.
Drive out the corruption, rescue your classmates, don¡¯t lose your soul in the process¡ªit¡¯s a weird day job, but someone¡¯s gotta do it.
We have some new friends. Such as Molly, who likes long walks on the graveyard shift. Oddly enough, Marcus started showing signs of being slightly less of a total wet blanket.
Let¡¯s see, what else happened in Book Two? Oh, right, just a tiny, insignificant revelation: Jace (and his brother Alex) turns out to be the estranged son of Henry¡ªa.k.a. the Dark One, a.k.a. the guy who sees Terra Mythica as a cosmic bug in the system and thinks hitting ¡°delete¡± is the only solution.
Turns out, Henry¡¯s been in Terra Mythica for like almost twenty years¡ªwhich, in Terra Mythica time is almost eight centuries! And he¡¯s had one to many hits in the head. And lost everything. Which basically lead to him snapping and embracing the Eternal End (an immortal cosmic entity) and trying to destroy all of existence with his undead army. No biggie.
Henry¡¯s meltdown left the realm in shambles, so Jace¡¯s existence is kind of the key to whether Terra Mythica goes poof or not. Turns out Jace¡¯s mom tried to save him by hauling his unborn self off to Earth. Some half-goblin named Bertrude mislabeled him as Jason instead of Grayson, leading to a lifetime of confusion.
While Jace grapples with family drama, Hades invests big-time in Jace¡¯s success. Jace recruits more weirdos to the Hades Society, building a mini dark empire.
Between cramming for exams and stopping possessed classmates, Jace unlocks the Affinity of Truth, glimpses the cosmic forces behind Terra Mythica, and basically realizes Earth and Terra Mythica are entangled in one big cosmic hairball.
Just as Jace thinks he might finally breathe, he spots his comatose brother, Alex, in a mirror. Obviously, the most logical next step is to follow that reflection.
Cue a giant magical vortex going ¡°SLURP,¡± and there goes Jace, yanked straight into gods-know-where. So, now he¡¯s swirling around in mirror-world limbo, and we don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll pop out before Henry jumps out of the shadows to declare the next ¡°family reunion.¡±
That¡¯s where we left it: Jace, mirror, whoosh, gone. Frantic speculation, existential dread, and a whole lot of Greek deities side-eyeing each other. Because when you¡¯re half-human, half-scion-of-doom, you gotta have a dramatic exit.
Bonus Stuffs
Here¡¯s some extra info¡ªnot exactly a ¡°Previously On,¡± but you know, helpful. Basically, the CliffNotes for how the System and universe work.
All Travelers are equipped with a shiny, silver User Interface Stone (super neat, very chic). This nifty little gadget gives them access to a storage space, a HUD, and all the fun features you¡¯d expect from a high-tech fantasy playground.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Then there¡¯s the soul-bound Traveler¡¯s Handbook. It¡¯s basically their personal diary meets achievement tracker. It keeps a record of who they are, their quests, their accomplishments, and probably some embarrassing doodles.
Now, how does the game system itself work? Oh, just your standard immortal cosmic entity stuff. Meet the Infinite Potential¡ªaka Jack. Jack¡¯s the polar opposite of the Eternal End and claims he¡¯s not an entity at all, but the embodiment of life itself. Jack also happens to be the source of the EXP system in Terra Mythica.
Here¡¯s the deal: the User Interface Stone and Traveler¡¯s Handbook team up to track a Traveler¡¯s progress and calculate EXP gains. Once the EXP bar fills up, Travelers have to ¡°fortify¡± their gains during downtime.
How? Well, that¡¯s where it gets personal.
Some meditate, others journal, and Jace? He cooks.
Yep, our grim, brooding representative of Hades unwinds by whipping up recipes and practicing alchemy. And honestly? He¡¯s getting pretty good at it. Nothing says ¡°Chosen of the Underworld¡± like rocking a floral apron while perfecting a potion or a souffl¨¦.
The Prismata Shards
All peoples of Terra Mythica, if they are magically inclined, attune to a Prismata Shard, which come in different colors and benefits. More on that below.
This poem should be almost helpful to explain the situation.
From the Infinite Potential,
A Word of Power was Spoken,
Its Aether¡¯s boundless force,
The Prismata Stone was Broken.
And thus the Shards were born,
Stars scattered through the night,
Cast down upon man and myth,
To carry on the fight.
A Sapphire for the Scholars¡¯ eyes, quick of wit and mind,
A Ruby for the Warriors¡¯ might, boldest of their kind,
An Emerald for the cunning tongued and Politically inclined,
Amber for the Healers¡¯ touch, soothing hearts and mind,
Amethyst for the Sages wise, their protections intertwined,
Moonstones for the Shadow caste, lost in twilight¡¯s bind.
Together they are the Prismata,
A single blinding light,
Guided by the great Aether,
To end the endless night.
Prismata Shards and Their Enhanced Attributes:
- Ruby¨C Strength
- Sapphire¨C Intelligence
- Emerald¨C Charisma
- Amber¨C Constitution
- Moonstone¨C Dexterity
- Amethyst¨C Wisdom
Each shard channels its unique Aether into the bearer, amplifying the specific attribute that aligns with its archetype.
Character Recaps
Jason "Jace" (Human) - Working things out
- Class: Twilight Gaudian, Cleric Specialization
- Prismata Shard:Moonstone
- Patron God:Hades, God of the Underworld
- Word of Power:Soul + Truth
- Abilities:
- Soul Mend: Heals wounds by channeling life force through touch.
- Soul Tether: Links souls, allowing for minor effects to be transferred between connected entities.
- Soul Sense: Grants perception of emotions and spirits, enabling insight into the souls of others.
- Traits: As the Chosen of Hades, Jace is uniquely attuned to the boundary between life and death, wielding powers that blend healing and spiritual insight.
Alice (Human) - bookish and brilliant, also terrible awkward and loves the macabre
- Class: Scholar, Caster Specialization
- Prismata Shard: Sapphire
- Patron God:Harpocrates, God of Silence and Secrets
- Word of Power:Secrets
- Abilities:
- Summon Tome of Secrets: Gathers hidden knowledge to unlock new spells and abilities over time.
- Arcane Detection: Reveals hidden or magical objects and entities within a radius.
- Veil of Shadows: Conceals herself and allies, blending them into the environment.
- Traits: Alice¡¯s powers reflect Harpocrates¡¯ influence, focusing on hidden knowledge, discretion, and subtle magic.
Dex (Human with a dash of elf) - cocky, but caring
- Class: Shadow Dancer, Rogue Specialization
- Prismata Shard: Emerald
- Patron God:Hermes, God of Thieves and Trickery
- Word of Power:Dance
- Abilities:
- Dancing Sword: Conjures a rapier and enhances his agility and precision in combat.
- Evasive Waltz: Increases evasion and movement speed, allowing him to dodge with finesse.
- Traits: Dex¡¯s connection to Hermes endows him with an agile, trickster¡¯s grace, making him a master of swift, elusive combat.
Ell (Unknown... human, we think) - she''s got a hard, confident exterior but is kind as they come
- Class: Combat Strategist, Fighter Specialization
- Prismata Shard: Amethyst
- Patron God:Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy
- Word of Power:Strategy
- Abilities:
- Force Shield: Touch-activated barrier that reduces incoming physical damage by half.
- Pathfinder¡¯s Sight: Highlights the safest and most strategic path to a destination.
- Spot Weaknesses: Detects vulnerabilities in opponents, increasing her tactical advantage.
- Traits: Under Athena¡¯s guidance, Ell¡¯s abilities focus on strategic insight, defense, and adaptability, positioning her as a crucial tactician.
Thistle (Gnome) - not been having a good time of it
- Class: Defender, Tank Specialization
- Prismata Shard: Ruby
- Patron God:Artemis, Goddess of the Wilderness
- Word of Power:Size
- Abilities:
- Gigantify: Temporarily transforms into a half-giant, greatly increasing his size, strength, and durability.
- Traits: Thistle¡¯s abilities reflect Artemis¡¯ influence, focusing on raw strength and resilience, particularly suited for survival and physical challenges.
Marcus (Half-Elf) - bit of a turd, but he''s okay
- Class: Combat Mage
- Prismata Shard: Ruby
- Patron God:Zeus, God of the Skies and Thunder
- Word of Power:Power
- Abilities:
- Thunderous Might: Channels Zeus''s power to amplify physical strength and deliver electrifying strikes, granting Marcus an edge in both close and ranged combat.
- Stormbound Resilience: Imbues Marcus with enhanced stamina and the ability to endure relentless onslaughts, allowing him to fight tirelessly through the fiercest storms.
- Bolt¡¯s Fury: Summons bolts of lightning that Marcus can hurl or direct, adding explosive force to his attacks.
- Traits: As the chosen of Zeus, Marcus personifies the unyielding power of the storm and the unbreakable will of a warrior.
Molly (Spirit Elf) - kinda creepy, but in an endearing way
- Class: Speaker for the Dead, Cleric Specialization
- Prismata Shard: Amber
- Patron God:Hecate, Goddess of Magic, Crossroads, and the Moon ¨C under the Banner of Hades
- Word of Power:Fate
- Abilities:
- We haven''t learned too much here yet. We do know she deals with lost souls.
|
Character Sheet: Jace/Jason (Greyson of Roandia)
Speaker Rank: Silver One
Class Title: Twilight Guardian
Words of Power / Affinities: Soul + Truth
President of the Society of Hades
Attributes
Strength: 35
Dexterity: 42
Intelligence: 52
Wisdom: 60
Constitution: 34
Charisma: 23
Spirit Constitution: 60
Karmic Balance: 15
Abilities
Pierce Lies
Distance: Aura
Immune to illusion magic.
Aether Cost: None
Soul Mend
Distance: Sight
Heal severe wounds efficiently with 50% reduced self-healing costs.
Aether Cost: Moderate
Soul Tether
Distance: Sight
Transfer significant effects between entities over greater distances, including emotions and basic thoughts.
Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use)
Soul Survivor
Passive
15% increased resistance to soul damage.
Faster recovery from soul-based injuries.
Aether Cost: None
Soul Severance
Distance: Sight
Sever connections between entities and their host, dealing significant damage to tethered souls.
Aether Cost: Severe
Soul Sense
Distance: Sight
Sharpened perception of auras, discerning emotions, intentions, and detecting spiritual disturbances.
Aether Cost: Low
Soul Detection
Distance: Aura
Sense the presence of souls within a short range, even through walls or in darkness.
Detection Range: Arm¡¯s length (increases with Spirit Constitution)
Aether Cost: None
Soul Step
Distance: Variable
Phase into the Other Realm, the Abyss, avoiding physical threats and reappearing in a new location.
Aether Cost: High (increases with time spent phased)
Soul Bind
Distance: Sight
Manifest shadowy ropes from the ground or nearby objects to entangle and restrict the movement of a target. These thin but unyielding tendrils of darkness latch onto limbs, holding the target in place.
Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use)
Shadow Cloak
Distance: Self
A shroud of pure shadow melds with your form, providing both armor and concealment.
Armor Rating: +40%
Stealth Enhancement: +35%
Shadow Affinity: +20%
Soul Shield: +25% (Protection from spiritual and magical assaults)
Aether Cost: Dynamic (variable with use)
Aetheric Absorption
Distance: Sight
Absorb a portion of Aether from defeated enemies, gradually replenishing your reserves.
Alchemical Focus (Mad Culinary Scientist)
Chop ¡®Til You Drop (Passive)
Your passion for culinary arts fuels your EXP cultivation.
Bonus: +5% efficiency when spending EXP during cooking.
Iron Stomach (Goat Rank)
Legendary resistance to poisons, toxins, and food-related ailments..
Bonus: 25% resistance to all poisons and toxins.
Willing to Try Anything (Passive)
Culinary experimentation leads to unique potions.
Bonus: +20% potion-making success when using strange ingredients.
Over The Top (Passive)
Receive bonus Society Points when exceeding EXP capacity.
Trigger Condition: Exceeding the EXP capacity
Special Skills & Effects
Feast of Fortitude & Gourmet Alchemy
Prepare meals that boost defense, resistance, and morale for all society members.
Bonus: +100% to meal boosts, improved potion duration and shelf life
Sanctuary of Dreams & Ward of Protection
Dormitory: becomes an enchanted refuge with defensive bonuses upon waking.
Bonus: Protection while resting, temporary defense boost upon waking
Soul Bound Star Map
Guides you to destinations, even in unfamiliar territories.
Bonus: Eases navigation and reveals hidden shortcuts
Additional Abilities
Dark Vision (Adept Rank)
Enhanced ability to see in darkness.
Knowledge Absorption (Apprentice Rank)
Improved retention and comprehension of absorbed knowledge.
Universal Lore (Apprentice Rank)
Increased understanding of game mechanics and lore.
Resistance to Death (Adept Rank)
14% reduction in necrotic, evil, and shadow-based damage.
Mostly Dead - Somewhat Alive (Passive)
At 2% health or less, gain a +10% boost to Aether and stamina regeneration.
Immunity from Scan, Identify, and Mind Reading magic.
|
And now, for book Three of Terra Mythica.
I hope you enjoy reading as much as I¡¯ve enjoyed writing! Oh, and if you really enjoy the series, a rating/review is always insanely amazing.
Chapter One: John Rearden - Twenty Years Ago
Chapter One: John Rearden
Twenty Years Ago
The morning sun painted the horizon with soft strokes of golden light. Birds chirped lazily, bees hovered with mechanical precision, and life, despite everything, crawled forward.
John Rearden had been awake long before the world even thought to stir. Four a.m. like clockwork¡ªsplash cold water on his face, a quick rinse to wipe the grit from his skin, and out the door to the Rearden Quick Stop. Nowhere, Texas. A gas station in the middle of a dead land.
His father had bought the place right after the War, back when the world still had a future to sell at discount prices. ¡°Good investment,¡± he had said many times since. ¡°People need to drive, son. No matter what else burns.¡± They¡¯d sunk everything they had into it¡ªevery scrap of hope, every coin they could pull together, and even the promise of better days.
Outside, two battered pumps stood like sentinels. Relics of a different time, just like everything else. John moved through the morning ritual, broom in hand, fighting against the eternal grime. Filth coated the world, blown in from the Dusts¡ªwhat the locals called the fallout. The War had left its mark, and nothing, not even this desolate station, was spared.
The Dust clung to every surface, a reminder that the past was never far away. He wiped at the countertops, but it was like trying to clean soot off memories¡ªyou could push it around, but it never really left.
The War had left behind more than just dust and ruins. Famine crept in like a slow-moving shadow, a silent consequence of the world¡¯s unraveling. It wasn¡¯t the kind of war you read about in history books. John was just a kid when it ended, barely old enough to understand. The Unseen War, they called it. Not a single shot fired, but the damage was total.
AI, disease, nuclear war, poisoned crops, entire landscapes scarred beyond repair. His grandfather used to tell stories about a time when technology made life easier. Machines that could do anything¡ªread you books, drive your car, even plow your fields. Phones you could carry in your pocket, talking to anyone, anywhere, through invisible wires that crisscrossed the sky. It sounded like magic, and maybe it was. But Grandpa had sworn it was all real.
That was before the AI hit, before everything crumbled. No one knew who built it, and every nation blamed the others. But someone, somewhere, had crafted the perfect weapon¡ªa self-replicating, self-sustaining virus. It spread through lifeblood of the world, adapting, evolving, consuming everything that ran on ones and zeros. Its purpose? Simple. To end life as we knew it.
A thousand rumors swirled about how it had all started, each more outlandish than the last. Some claimed it was an AI engineered for war; others whispered it was just a social experiment, an AI built with a single goal¡ªa clean, simple formula to smooth out every edge, to make everything fair. And that, quietly, imperceptibly, had brought the silence.
John remembered watching a film about that once, a worn VHS he¡¯d unearthed in a dusty junk shop, half the tape chewed up by time. Still, the message was clear¡ªa machine sent back to erase humanity before it even had a chance. Pure fiction, sure, but as he watched, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that some truth lay hidden in those flickering images.
You¡¯d think we might¡¯ve learned something from it. But we didn¡¯t. We just kept spinning in circles, the same mistakes looping back like a broken record stuck on the end of the world. AI could have been a marvel, something to solve problems, to ease lives. But instead, it was Prometheus¡¯ fire all over again. A tool, yes¡ªbut also a weapon. Fire doesn¡¯t have motives; it¡¯s just fire, wild and strange, bending to the hand that wields it. It can feed, it can save, it can shield us from the cold, saving countless lives. It can kindle warmth and hope¡ªor it can consume, destroy, burn us all.
He set the needle down on a worn-out vinyl and the scratchy sound of a forgotten era crackled to life. It was some old blues tune¡ªgritty, raw, with a voice that had seen more pain than joy. The singer¡¯s rasp echoed through the empty lot, hanging in the air like smoke. Outside, the wind stirred the dust and sand, but the record spun steadily, its rhythm a heartbeat in a world that had lost its pulse.
John wiped the jukebox, the Dust clinging stubbornly to the rag like it had a claim on the past. It was a family heirloom, carefully hidden by his father during the dark days of the Technopurge. The automations had long since given up the ghost, leaving him to swap out the records by hand. He didn¡¯t mind. In a world where everything was slipping away, there was something solid about the needle hitting vinyl, a sound he could control, even if just for a moment.
When John was a kid, electricity was still considered too dangerous, the Technopurge in full swing. You didn¡¯t mess around with tech¡ªnot if you wanted to keep your head on your neck. Get caught with anything more advanced than a wind-up clock? Straight to prison, or worse. Even now, decades later, people whispered about the Purge, about what happened to those who tried to hold onto the past. But here was John, defying it in his own small way, playing a record on a machine that shouldn¡¯t exist anymore, in a place that time had forgotten.
A flicker of rebellion sparked in him, small but insistent. A tiny resistance to what was. Yet, beneath that, he knew¡ªthe world was far too weary, far too hollowed out by hunger and time to notice, let alone care.
Over the past twenty years, the restrictions on technology had relaxed. Machines sputtered and whirred, pieced together from fragments that gleamed with a faint, alien sheen¡ªas if they¡¯d once brushed against stars. Scavengers with a sharp eye unearthed relics that bordered on myth: helicopters with sleek, worn lines, engines bearing faded emblems of some lost empire. Rumors floated that the old government was stirring to life again, reimagining New York¡¯s hollowed towers, repurposing them into tight, makeshift homes. But the city¡¯s pulse beat unevenly, half promise, half snare¡ªa place as treacherous as the Dust that drifted endlessly beyond its borders.
One rule, though, held firm. The line in the sand¡ªthe one that would get you killed, or worse¡ªwas any trace of AI, any hint of the old networks stirring back to life. The AI hadn¡¯t come with guns or marching steel; it had slipped through circuits like a ghost, a flicker in every hard drive, every line of code. Even now, the world treaded lightly, skirting the raw edges of that wound, careful not to stir whatever might still lie hidden, biding in the wires.
The world had crumbled, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a collage of faded memories. His eyes drifted to the calendar nailed to the wall, yellowed and warped, claiming a year long past. Didn¡¯t matter. It still served its purpose. By the marks he¡¯d scratched into it, Thanksgiving was closing in¡ªat least, that¡¯s what he figured. The page showed a feast¡ªturkey, mashed potatoes, a spread that could break your heart if you stared too long¡ªa cruel echo.
John felt its absence gnawing at him, a hollow ache in his gut, mirrored in the pale ghost of himself reflected in the station¡¯s window. He was paler than he should be, given all his time in the sun. His father used to blame their gaunt frames on bad genes, but John knew the truth. Life stripped you bare, left nothing but bone, hunger, and the relentless grit of survival. The War had taken it all¡ªeverything but the Dust. And after a few generations, well, what could you expect?
A familiar rumble broke the quiet as a beat-up old car wheezed into the lot, sputtering out its last breath of fuel. John straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans as he stepped outside. He recognized the car, but it wasn¡¯t until the driver stepped out that the years peeled back.
¡°Damn, John,¡± the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°You look tired.¡±
¡°Eli,¡± John nodded, eyes drifting to the car¡¯s roof, weighed down with a mess of goods strapped under a weathered tarp. ¡°You leaving town for good?¡±
Eli gave a tired chuckle, but his eyes were heavy, worn down by more than just miles. ¡°Nothing left to stick around for. Everything I own¡¯s in that car,¡± he said, nodding toward the back seat, piled high with bags and odds and ends. ¡°Town¡¯s dead, man.¡±
John wiped his hands again, more out of habit than need. ¡°Where you headed?¡±
¡°Greener pastures. South, maybe. West. Hell, I don¡¯t even know. Just away. Figure I¡¯ll keep driving till the road runs out.¡± Eli leaned against the car, staring out at the empty horizon. ¡°There¡¯s nothing left for me here, not since¡¡±
John glanced at the car, the bags crammed wherever they could fit, then over at the empty passenger seat. He hesitated before speaking. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Sarah.¡±
Eli¡¯s jaw tightened, eyes fixed straight ahead. He gave a brief nod, but no words came.
¡°You sure about this?¡± John asked, his voice softer now. ¡°Ain¡¯t much left out there either. At least here, you¡¯ve still got a few friends.¡±
Eli let out a weary chuckle, though it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°This place... it¡¯s as dead as the dreams we used to talk about. I can¡¯t stick around just waiting for it to rot further. It¡¯s going to take us all with it.¡± He turned, eyes scanning the station, the old pumps standing like forgotten relics of a world that had long since moved on.
John filled up the tank, the clink of gold and silver coins in his hand. After the War, everyone had gone back to what they knew held value¡ªprecious metals, ores, the old ways of trade. Paper bills still floated around, but only the desperate or naive tried to use them. The rest of the world had reverted to something older, something primal.
As John handed back the change, the sky darkened, and a low growl of wind stirred the air. The horizon shimmered with dust¡ªmore than usual. A War Storm was coming, the kind that killed crops and left the land bare.
John called out against the sudden wind, motioning for Eli to follow him inside. ¡°Storm¡¯s picking up.¡±
Eli shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯ll be a long one. I¡¯ll wait it out in the car.¡±
John hesitated, glancing at the swirling clouds. ¡°You sure, Eli? This storm looks meaner than most.¡±
Eli gave the horizon a quick look, then settled back, a tired grin on his face. ¡°Me and old Betsy,¡± he patted the steering wheel, ¡°we¡¯ve seen our share of bad weather.¡±
¡°Suit yourself, but I¡¯m not coming back to save you if you get blown away,¡± John said, flashing a grin.
¡°Sure you wouldn¡¯t. With that bleeding heart of yours?¡±
Eli eased his car up to the eastern wall, one of four massive barriers built from raw steel and stone, each angled like a blunt wedge to split the storm¡¯s force. He parked close, finding what little shelter he could along the wall that bore the worst of the winds tearing in from the east.
John pushed against the wind, struggling his way back into the station. He¡¯d seen worse. The storms always passed, but there was always the hope that maybe, just maybe, one day they¡¯d stop for good, and the world could finally start growing green again. But each time they rolled through, they stripped that hope away¡ªcrops shriveled, the land laid bare, leaving nothing but more dust in their wake.
It reminded him of an old tape he¡¯d watched as a kid, some flick about an undead army devouring everything in its path, growing stronger with every soul it claimed. These storms were no different, sweeping through and adding to the endless wasteland, feeding the dead land with more emptiness.
Inside, John locked the door and took his usual spot behind the counter, waiting for the storm to roll over. The jukebox still played, soft now, as if the song itself was hiding from the storm.
A ragged, sepia haze choked the horizon, blurring the line where the sky met the cracked asphalt, as though the earth itself were exhaling centuries of buried anguish into the air. The wind howled with a feral intensity, carrying with it a mixture of ash, grit, and shadows of lost places, scraping against the gas station¡¯s peeling facade like the raking of skeletal fingers. The storm twisted and undulated in chaotic patterns, an animalistic fury clashing against the battered, rust-riddled remnants of what was once a fuel oasis for travelers. Occasional glints caught in the murk¡ªbits of twisted metal, shards of glass¡ªflung into brief orbit before disappearing again in the ceaseless swirl.
John stood behind the counter, eyes fixed on the dust-blurred window. The light outside shifted in strange patterns, distorted by the storm. Inside, the gas station was dimly lit, mostly by a single bare bulb overhead that swung gently, casting jagged shadows that danced across the walls.
A faint rumble reverberated through the walls as the storm pressed harder, dust sifting down from the ceiling in thin streams, ghostly fingers reaching down in the dim, swaying light. John watched them with a distant sort of detachment, eyes unfocused, as if he were looking through the ceiling and beyond it, somewhere far away. He ran his hand along the underside of the counter, feeling the cold metal of the rusted pipe he kept there¡ªhis only defense against whatever might come through that door. His fingers tightened around it as he heard the soft jingle of the bell above the door.
What could possibly be out there in this hell? He struggled to recall if he¡¯d locked the door. He always locked the door¡ªespecially when storms like this rolled in. Storms brought scavengers, and you only had to learn that lesson once. He was certain he¡¯d locked it. He had to be.
But a moment later, he was proven wrong. The door creaked open, the wind howling louder for a moment before the stranger stepped inside. Sand swirled through the open door, rust-colored river spilling into the gas station, pooling against the battered counter and skittering across cracked tiles. John winced as radioactive grit hissed against the floor, grinding into places he¡¯d spent hours trying to keep clear.
John instinctively recoiled as the air shifted, the fine film of radioactive grit settling over everything. He cursed under his breath, teeth gritted, his brow knotted. The dust wouldn¡¯t kill you fast, but it worked its poison over time. Most folk had adapted in someway or another¡ªhardened skin, an extra eyelid or two. And then there were other, less pleasant mutations. The Evolved, they called them. John had seen things; things he tried not to remember.
¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± His voice came out rougher than intended, half anger, half bewilderment. The stranger didn¡¯t flinch. His skin looked too smooth, too untouched by the world: no scars, no burns, no signs of radiation¡¯s slow caress.
¡°Nice day for a storm,¡± the man said, his tone casual. His voice was smooth, slippery like oil over water. Adjusting his sunglasses, he caught the dim glow of the light bulb, dark lenses reflecting it back, hiding his eyes and any hints of his intentions.
¡°Close the damn door,¡± John growled, irritation laced with a thin thread of unease. ¡°You¡¯re letting half the desert in.¡±
The man tilted his head slightly, like he hadn¡¯t quite heard or maybe just didn¡¯t care. The door swung shut with a thud, untouched by any hand John could see, sealing the storm outside. A faint murmur of wind against glass was all that remained of the chaos beyond.
John tightened his grip on the rusted pipe beneath the counter, the cold metal grounding him. The stranger stood in the dim glow of the flickering bulb, perfectly composed, like he belonged in some cleaner, brighter place¡ªone where the sky still remembered how to be blue.
John tried not to think of the creatures the storm left in its wake¡ªthe ones with too many limbs or joints bending in unnatural directions. This man was different, disturbingly whole, as if the storm had bent around him, leaving him untouched.
John¡¯s gaze swept over the stranger, dissecting every detail. A reasonable number of fingers on each hand, hidden inside dark leather gloves. Skin, tanned and smooth, free of the scales or rough bone patches that had begun pressing through the flesh of others. He didn¡¯t look like one of the Evolved. No extra joints, no twisted bones, none of the mutations that had warped so many. Just a man, by the look of him.
Years spent behind the counter had drilled a kind of automatic calm into John. He settled into the routine, words slipping out as naturally as breathing. ¡°Can I help you with something?¡±
The man chuckled, low and throaty. ¡°I do hope so,¡± he said, stepping forward. His boots crunched against the sand-strewn tiles, the leather creaking. Not a trace of sand marred his coat¡ªan unnatural kind of clean that made John¡¯s skin prickle. That smile¡ªtoo broad, too casual.
¡°You new around here?¡± John asked, voice rough with suspicion, the unease seeping through despite himself. His gaze flicked to the door, to the dust still settling on the floor like a veil of time.
¡°Something like that,¡± the stranger replied, his voice smooth as the hum of old-world tech. He slipped off his gloves, tucking them into his coat pocket. His fingers, pale and unblemished, looked untouched by the ravages of this broken world. ¡°You look worried, John.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
The mention of his name sent a shiver through him, but John refused to give the stranger the satisfaction of seeing it. He forced a hard laugh, masking the knot tightening in his chest.
¡°Have we met?¡±
¡°Not yet,¡± the man replied, a thin smile curling at the edge of his mouth. ¡°But soon, I hope.¡±
John had heard strange stories about the Evolved¡ªtheir mutations born from the fallout, twisting them in ways that made old myths look tame. Some said they could slip into your mind, pull your thoughts out like threads, or worse. But talk like that was easy to dismiss, the kind of tale folks swapped to pass the time in a dying world.
The man stepped forward, and John¡¯s instincts pulled him back, a primal sense gnawing at his nerves. There was something feral in this stranger¡¯s presence, an edge that made John¡¯s skin prickle, though he tried to keep his voice steady.
¡°Listen, friend,¡± he managed, forcing a calm he didn¡¯t feel. ¡°I¡¯m not looking for trouble. You¡¯re free to stay until the storm passes, but if you¡¯d mind keeping some distance¡ª¡°
The man halted, his gaze intense, cutting through the dim light. ¡°John,¡± he murmured, his tone slipping past polite pretense. ¡°You and I both know¡ this storm isn¡¯t passing anytime soon. Not the real storm. That one is building, growing. You feel it, don¡¯t you? The shift on the horizon?¡±
John swallowed hard, trying to steady his racing pulse. He gripped the pipe with white knuckles beneath the counter. The stranger¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t falter; it held a patience almost maddening, a grimness that seemed carved from stone.
¡°Who are you?¡± was all John could think to say.
¡°I¡¯m known by many names in my world: the wind, the ripples in the pond, the Infinite Potential. But I prefer to be called Jack. And, I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯d prefer to do this the easy way,¡± the man continued, his voice dropping to a raw edge, ¡°but unfortunately, I don¡¯t have much time. The connection is faint, and I can only hold it so long.¡±
¡°What are you talking about?¡± John¡¯s voice edged toward a shout, his confusion rising.
The man¡¯s expression softened, almost apologetic. ¡°You¡¯ll forgive me, John.¡±
¡°What?¡±
Before John could blink, the stranger lunged. John swung the pipe hard, the motion reflexive and desperate. But the metal passed straight through the man¡¯s form, colliding with a stack of goods behind him in a deafening crash that sent cans and boxes tumbling.
He stared, stunned, his mind reeling as the man continued forward, unfazed. Cold hands seized John¡¯s head, fingers curling like steel against his temples. The room¡¯s edges blurred, the hum of the gas station fading into a thick silence as everything sharpened to just the two of them, standing amidst the thickening sand.
Then they weren¡¯t there at all.
Reality bent, the walls of the station folding inward, twisting and warping until the dim light bled into a black void. Shadows pulled at the edges, and then John was... somewhere else.
A vast, black sky stretched overhead, jagged streaks of violent light tearing through the darkness like old scars, seething in the gloom. The earth beneath him trembled, cracking open as it lurched and split into chasms that seemed to pull him closer. Floodwaters surged in, swallowing whole cities, monuments, everything, until all was consumed by an endless, roiling sea. The air reeked of thick, acrid ash, coating his lungs, and from the void came a haunting chorus of screams¡ªechoes that clawed at his bones, sinking deep as the darkness pressed in around him.
¡°What¡ what is this?¡± John gasped, the words torn from him as he struggled to catch his breath. They soared above the world, far from the chaos below, watching as it unraveled in waves of dark energy, cities fracturing, landscapes warping into shapes that defied nature.
¡°This,¡± Jack¡¯s voice was vast and layered, reverberating through the air around them, ¡°was the last Convergence.¡± He paused, his gaze distant, almost mournful. ¡°And it¡¯s coming again. Only this time¡ I¡¯m not sure anything will survive it.¡±
John stared, and they pulled back even further, a hum growing beneath his skin. It was unreal, he was seeing the edge of his sanity peeling away.
¡°Do you see it yet?¡± Jack¡¯s voice was everywhere.
Scenes folded back, like the pages of a cosmic book flipping in reverse, one after another. The stars expanded, then collapsed, then drifted apart again in a kaleidoscope of time. John felt himself moving further, stars slipping away, until he could see it. It wasn¡¯t clear at first¡ªa double image, an echo across the vastness of the universe.
Maybe the radiation dust was finally doing it, getting inside his head, his bloodstream, tweaking his perception until the seams of the cosmos unraveled. Plenty of folks cracked under the pressure of the storms, their cells reprogramming under the flood of charged particles, minds twisting with them.
But there was something about this¡ªit wasn¡¯t madness. It was bigger than madness.
Jack pulled him out even further until the entirety of existence hung like a fragile glass bauble. John sucked in a breath. He floated amidst total nothing. No light, no blackness, just¡ nothing.
¡°When the universe was born, it thought it was the only one of its kind. Quite presumptuous for a universe, don¡¯t you think?¡± Jack smiled, a glimmer in the vastness.
There was nothing, and then there was a pulse¡ªa vibration, a field, a light that wasn¡¯t light, a place that wasn¡¯t a place¡ªan idea more than a thing. The first something where there had been nothing at all.
Jack¡¯s voice resonated softly. ¡°It was a young thing, unaware of the truth¡ªthat it was born into something far, far larger.¡±
John blinked. ¡°That¡¯s¡ ours?¡±
¡°Or are you its? Yes, to both questions, if you want to be poetic about it.¡±
Jack moved again, a subtle push, pulling the view back just a little more. John¡¯s breath caught¡ªuniverses. Not just theirs, but others, alive in their own way, drifting and circling each other, bodies of light and darkness.
¡°Nothing is alone, not really. Not even universes,¡± Jack murmured. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t long, a few billion years at most, until our little universe discovered that fact.¡±
There was something stirring deep inside John. A feeling that had always been there, that hum in his bones, a resonance he¡¯d ignored, like a tune he¡¯d grown up with and no longer heard. And there, in the endless dark¡ªa word came to him, echoing, almost forgotten but so utterly familiar: Ours.
Jack¡¯s smile grew. ¡°Every universe has a name. A truth. A resonance. It¡¯s not a word, not as we think of words, but it¡¯s something known deep down by anyone who truly belongs to it. I think you¡¯re starting to hear yours.¡±
Ours. It sounded¡ beautiful. It wasn¡¯t just a name; it was an invitation, a promise.
Across the void, something shifted. Another universe, gliding, moving in its own orbit, its trajectory shifting¡ªheading toward Ours. John¡¯s heart thudded in his chest.
¡°No, stop.¡± The words tumbled out, a whispered plea. There was a strange, instinctive protectiveness in him. He could feel it, deep as blood, like a parent fearing for their child.
¡°That one¡¯s mine,¡± Jack said, his tone a curious mix of affection and sorrow. ¡°Your kind will know it as Terra Mythica. The world of myth. Though that is no more its true name than ¡®John¡¯ is yours.¡±
The two universes drew close, faster now, an unstoppable collision in motion. John flinched as they came together, a cosmic impact. The crash was silent but resonated through everything¡ªa collision not out of malice but out of the inevitable play of physics and fate.
¡°It was an accident,¡± Jack breathed. ¡°An innocent one¡ªtwo children colliding in playful chaos.¡±
John watched as their universe fractured. It broke, and yet it did not. They split and yet twisted, melding, shards shifting together.
¡°This¡¡± Jack gestured, the nebulas swirling into shapes that felt like memories¡ªancient and new all at once¡ª¡°This is Convergence. Two universes, through force or affinity, becoming one. This is when I first met yours¡ªwhen the early life of your galaxies brushed against mine. And from that chaos, life emerged, reshaped forever.¡±
They hovered above a world awash in strange colors and flickering lights, a living canvas of hues and brilliance unlike anything he¡¯d ever dared to imagine.
John felt the world drop away beneath him as Jack placed a hand on his shoulder, and together they moved, not by steps, but by intention. The universe itself shifted around them, bending to Jack¡¯s will. One moment they stood suspended in a twilight firmament¡ªplanets spinning like marbles across a cosmic table¡ªthen they glided forward, passing between galaxies like slipping through doorways.
Jack¡¯s fingers twitched, and the universe rippled, guiding them to Mars. The surface expanded beneath them, as if they¡¯d plunged straight through the clouds. John felt the crackle of electric energy at the shift, the strange awareness that one moment they were standing above all things, and the next, they were amidst them. The verdant plains of Mars stretched beneath John¡¯s feet, rich with a deep, primal green, vibrant and alive in ways that defied the very name he had known for so long. Yet somehow, he knew it was Mars¡ªsomething inside him felt it with an unshakable certainty.
They hovered just above the ground, untouched, as if standing on a layer of air. Titanic giants moved across the endless green, each step shaking the earth, their massive forms imposing against the horizon. In the shadows of sprawling, alien trees, elfin tribes moved unseen, delicate figures weaving through the branches and moss-covered trunks. Jack let them wander¡ªghosts in this chaotic paradise, silent spectators among meadows that pulsed with color and life. Strange creatures chased each other through the grasses, their bizarre forms looping and darting in great arcs, laughter echoing on the wind. It was beautiful, impossibly beautiful¡ªa living dream painted in ever-shifting hues, so vivid it felt as if reality itself had burst into bloom.
Then, without warning, the scene unraveled around them. The greens of Mars twisted away, replaced by the rich blues and greens of Earth. It wasn¡¯t a jarring motion, but a subtle shift, like thoughts rearranging themselves. John found himself in the sky above Earth, among flocks of iridescent birds, their wings catching the sun like shards of stained glass, fluttering beneath a gentle canopy of cloud.
Jack looked into his eyes with a piercing intensity that seemed to strip away every layer, as if searching for something hidden deep within John¡¯s soul.
Suddenly, they were standing on an ancient mountainside. John¡¯s eyes widened as a dragon uncoiled itself from a jagged cliff, its long, sinuous body curving around crags and plunging into valleys, its scales rippling with glints of fire and shadow. Its breath sent waves of hot air shimmering up from the ground, and the nearby pines quivered under its weight, needles trembling in excitement or terror.
Jack moved them again, a subtle flex of power. The tundra opened below them, a frozen expanse where a family of giants lumbered across the snowfields, their massive forms half-lost in an endless expanse of white, their footprints leaving craters behind, small storms of snow scattering with each movement. From somewhere out in the vastness came the faint echo of laughter, high and musical¡ªfaerie laughter¡ªspilling from glens hidden beneath ancient trees, far below.
They drifted there, unseen among the giants and dragons, among the mysterious peoples that called these wild worlds home, invisible observers to moments of life that were somehow as beautiful as they were impossible. And all John could do was look, wonder, and try to understand how this all fit, this new existence where time, space, and the bounds of reality meant nothing under Jack¡¯s hand.
John¡¯s gaze caught on a small Elven child. She was playing in a meadow, her mother beside her. The scene shimmered¡ªalmost too perfect to be real.
¡°Don¡¯t worry, they can¡¯t see you. This is just a cosmic memory, a remnant.¡±
John¡¯s breath caught as the girl looked up, her eyes locking onto his. She looked right through the veil that separated them. Her mother remained oblivious, her gaze focused elsewhere, but the child¡¯s eyes met his, and she smiled, a small, knowing smile.
Jack¡¯s sharp inhale broke the stillness, and his eyes widened for the briefest moment.
¡°Not possible,¡± he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°Perhaps¡ still so much to learn about your kind¡¡± He trailed off, his voice laced with something akin to awe, an edge of reverence softening the disbelief. He shook his head, and time rushed ahead in a blur, the world streaking past like smeared paint on a spinning canvas.
¡°The Convergence spanned eons, our two worlds living as one,¡± Jack said, his voice hushed, almost reverent. The universe shifted around them, rolling forward, time spilling in uneven surges¡ªlike a vast Venn diagram of intersecting time and space, layers overlapping, blurring the lines between all things. ¡°But it couldn¡¯t last. Our realms eventually pulled away from each other. In truth, from the universe¡¯s perspective, it was but a fleeting collision¡ªa momentary intersection. Yet for those who lived through it, it felt endless, each heartbeat etched in the fabric of reality itself.¡±
John watched as the two worlds drifted apart, each shard tearing, groaning under the strain. He saw the mother scream as her child slipped from her arms¡ªsaw the worlds splitting, people lost, the pain painted across their faces.
¡°The Schism was worse than the Convergence. It was agony. In the beginning, the universe was flexible, able to adapt. But once these lives had roots¡ ripping them apart was a cruelty beyond imagination.¡±
John could only watch. He tried to reach for the child, but she couldn¡¯t see him anymore. She stood alone, her mother gone, and John felt the hopelessness in his gut, raw and real. Then, they were amongst the stars again. He wanted to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the vastness.
Jack¡¯s voice was a whisper. ¡°Magic faded. Eventually, the two were no longer one. Life went on. New stories began.¡±
John watched as the stars drifted apart, Ours and Terra Mythica untethering. The stars separated, Terra Mythica drifting away like a lost ship, and Ours fractured, like a bone that hadn¡¯t healed right, a sadness that settled deep. He could feel it¡ªthe breaking of innumerable lives, the silence that followed as so many voices were snuffed out. An unbearable emptiness, a void settling in his chest.
Jack spoke again, soft, solemn. ¡°The Schism came with more pain than the Convergence ever could. The Convergence was chaos, but the Schism¡ªthe Schism was pure, unyielding loss.¡±
John spoke then, guided by an inexplicable certainty. He wasn¡¯t sure how he knew, but he just did. Something deep within¡ªsomething profoundly his¡ªjust knew, as though he had always been a part of it, as though he had always been there. His lips moved before he even realized, a current of truth thrumming through him.
¡°And then our universe was alone¡ªunsure, wounded. Healing, but never whole. In time, the memory of the Convergence faded, until it was nothing more than myth.¡±
Jack nodded, his expression sad. ¡°Yes. Forgotten in all ways but the vague imprints¡ªin myths, in dreams.¡±
The stars were silent for a long while, until Jack¡¯s eyes grew sharp again. There was something new there¡ªa glimmer of defiance.
¡°And John, this is important,¡± Jack said. ¡°With that Schism came something else¡ªa darkness that every universe names differently. Some call it the Devil or Doom; others know it as Evil or Hate. In my realm, we call it The Eternal End. A darkness. A residue of pain¡ªa shadow that only grew, a stain on the very fabric of existence. It is the fear of finality, the dread of nothing new, of endings without continuance. It was born out of the agony of the Convergence, from the sorrow of the Schism. It thrives in darkness, feeding on despair, growing in the emptiness left behind. A darkness that either grows weaker or more powerful with each passing moment. Hope against despair, potential against the end.¡±
John felt a chill creep down his spine. He could see it now¡ªa shadow threading through the emptiness, lingering at the edges of the universe.
¡°John, I was born of Infinite Potential, the possibility of tomorrow¡ªa reminder that a soul can always create anew. Even when an end comes, there¡¯s always another chapter, another story. That spark lies at the center of all things.¡±
He paused, his eyes shadowed. ¡°But The Eternal End... it¡¯s a lie. A consuming void, refusing futures, denying new beginnings. And like me, it took form, manifesting from all that was lost: the suffering, the pain, the endless grief. It has grown ever since. And now, as Convergence stirs again, I fear it will seize this chance to fulfill its purpose¡ªthe end of everything. Your universe has barely healed from the last Schism, while mine has had more time. But both are still fragile. If this new Convergence is tainted by that darkness¡ if it gains control, the devastation would be immeasurable. Countless lives, fractured souls¡ªall fuel for the Eternal End.
Jack looked at him, the words settling into the silence as if a stone dropped in still water. John¡¯s eyes searched Jack¡¯s face, a flicker of confusion darkening into something rawer. Then John shook his head violently, a sudden burst of emotion pushing through.
¡°No!¡± he snapped, his voice breaking, rising with a raw edge. ¡°No, this can¡¯t be real!¡± His eyes were wide, wild¡ªpanic swirling with anger, desperation fraying at the edges. His breath came fast, ragged, like he couldn¡¯t get enough air, the world closing in around him.
¡°This is insane! I must be dying¡ªor already dead¡¡± His voice cracked again, trembling under the weight of it all. ¡°It¡¯s too much¡ªtoo everything. Too real, too impossible.¡± He stumbled over the words, his fists clenching at his sides, his body wound tight, teetering on the brink of losing control. ¡°Is it just radiation? My brain¡ªmelting down before burning out?¡± His voice wavered, almost breaking. ¡°The last flickering synapses firing off, desperately trying to make sense of everything before it all fades to black?¡±
¡°John, you already know the answer to that,¡± Jack said softly, his voice filling the quiet vastness of the stars. ¡°Your body is safe, right where you left it, back in your little shop.¡±
John¡¯s gaze flickered across the glowing universe around them, the quiet beauty of it all seeming to press in on him. ¡°Why are you showing me this?¡± His voice was barely more than a whisper. ¡°Who do you think you are? God?¡±
Jack laughed, the sound soft, almost wistful, as if the question itself carried a deep, unspoken meaning. ¡°No, John. Not in the way you mean. I like to think perhaps we were both made in His image, but who really knows? Maybe I¡¯m just a kid playing in the sand. Aren¡¯t we all?¡± He looked at John, his eyes full of an ageless mystery, as though reflecting something vast and unknowable. ¡°I have some authorship over my own part of the world, just as you do for yours, but the creator of all things? No, that isn¡¯t me.¡±
Jack paused, and the space between them filled with the shimmering lights of distant galaxies, swirling, a slow dance of color and possibility.
John¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion mingling with awe. ¡°Why does any of this make sense to me?¡± he asked, his voice catching.
Jack¡¯s lips curved into a gentle smile. ¡°Because deep down, you already know it. You aren¡¯t merely flesh and bone, and you never were¡ªnot entirely, anyway. You¡¯re stardust, John. The same as every other living being, each a unique source of stories, of worlds, of countless possible futures. You¡ªall of you¡ªare the very source of magic itself. How you came by it, that¡¯s beyond me¡ªa gift from God, gods, or from the unknown. But what I do know is that the spark within you, that is you, is older than the mountains, older than the stars, older than any world you could ever dream of.¡±
John¡¯s heart beat with a strange resonance as Jack¡¯s words settled in, a profound truth he felt rather than understood, a truth older than time and larger than words.
They floated together amongst the stars, wrapped in the silence and beauty of the universe¡ªtwo beings suspended in a sea of endless light, the chaos of existence having given way to this one serene moment. And for the first time, John felt that he truly understood his place in the universe; they were all playing in the sand, each one a breeze, a spark of the infinite.
In a heartbeat, they were back in the gas station, and John was in his body again. The pipe slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor, its sharp sound cutting through the sudden stillness.
Jack¡¯s voice dropped to a somber note. ¡°You asked, why I¡¯m telling you this. John, I¡¯ve been reaching across the void for a long time. As your universe yearned for something beyond itself, so did I, searching for someone who could hear me. Our universe moves faster than yours¡ªan anomaly, perhaps, but every universe has its nature. And as our worlds collided long ago, it¡¯s happening once more. Small pieces have already begun to slip across the divide. I¡¯ve been calling through the chasm, seeking a mind ready to hear me.¡±
¡°Why me?¡± John¡¯s voice was soft, quiet against the storm outside.
Jack sighed. ¡°I wish I could tell you it was some prophecy or destiny. But in truth, I¡¯m speaking to you because you heard me. You¡¯ve been hearing me for some time, even if you weren¡¯t ready to accept it until now.¡±
Outside, the sandstorm settled, but John barely noticed.
Jack turned to him. ¡°John, I need your help. The next Convergence is coming. We are already running on borrowed time. The worlds are starting to collide once again. And this time, the darkness is ready. If we¡¯re not careful¡ªif we don¡¯t fight back¡ªthe End might just get what it wants.¡±
He paused, nodding toward the door. ¡°You¡¯d better get that. Your friend¡¯s outside.¡±
The sudden shift in tone threw John off balance. A knock sounded. John hesitated for a moment before heading over and unlocking the it. Eli stood there, a smile hovering just short of his eyes. John met it with one of his own.
¡°Storm let up and¡ I just wanted to say goodbye,¡± Eli said, his gaze drifting past John¡¯s shoulder, taking in the mess left from John¡¯s attempt to swing a pipe at Jack. His eyes passed right over Jack as though he wasn¡¯t there, and John watched carefully, searching for any flicker of recognition.
¡°Redecorating?¡± Eli asked, raising an eyebrow.
¡°Something like that,¡± John replied.
Eli shrugged. He hesitated, then hugged John tightly before stepping back. ¡°I¡¯ll write once I¡¯ve got my feet planted somewhere.¡±
As Eli left, Jack watched, his eyes far away. John turned to him, his shoulders heavy. ¡°What now? What do you need from me?¡±
Jack pushed off the counter, taking a deep breath, his expression that of a man who¡¯d fought too many battles¡ªand wasn¡¯t proud of them all. ¡°Far too much, I¡¯m afraid. Far too much.¡±
Chapter Two: Alexander
Chapter Two: Alexander
When the knock came at the door, Alex''s instincts told him to ignore it. He stared at the scarred wooden threshold of his cramped, crumbling apartment, shadows twisting across peeling walls and a ceiling that drooped with exhaustion.
The sharp, staccato knock shattered the silence again, each beat louder, more insistent. Alex''s pulse quickened, a drumline of nerves. This neighborhood bred caution like a second skin; doors only opened when certainty lay on the other side. The peephole, long covered by the last tenants, left behind a faint outline and a nagging sense of exposure. He should ask Albert to fix it¡ªor at least cover the parts. Jason could do it; he was always good with his hands. Curiosity, that reckless taunt, pulled him forward.
He cracked the door, eyes narrowing against the dim light spilling in from the hallway. Standing there was not the trouble he expected, but a man in a pristine tan suit, shoes polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the peeling linoleum beneath his feet. On his chest gleamed a badge: Excelsior Technologies, the emblem of their dominion¡ªa stylized bird with wings unfurled, talons gripping two gleaming spheres. The design struck a balance between majesty and menace, corporate authority disguised as grandeur.
In his nineteen years, never had anything like this found its way to him¡ªleast of all here, where hope was an uninvited guest. Jason was gone, out on some vague errand that Alex suspected was more escape than necessity.
¡°Excelsior Tech?¡± Alex muttered, disbelief sharpening his gaze.
The man¡¯s nod was a mechanical gesture, his face a mask devoid of human warmth. ¡°I¡¯m here on behalf of Excelsior Technologies,¡± he intoned, words clipped, devoid of inflection. A digital clipboard thrust into Alex¡¯s hands felt weightier than its size suggested. ¡°Sign here. Thumbprint and blood required.¡±
¡°Blood?¡± The word left Alex¡¯s mouth before he could stop it.
The man¡¯s eyes, blank as an unlit screen, offered no response. Instead, he gestured towards a panel on the box he held¡ªa seamless blend of wood and metal, refined yet oddly primal. The compartment glinted in the flickering light. Alex hesitated for a heartbeat, then pressed his thumb to the panel, wincing as a hidden needle pierced his skin and drew a bead of crimson.
A low hum reverberated beneath his fingertips, the box vibrating with a strange sentience. ¡°Calibrating¡ sufficient sample,¡± the display read in sterile, cold letters. The man nodded once more, placed the box in Alex¡¯s trembling hands, and disappeared down the hallway without so much as a parting glance.
¡°Uh¡ thanks?¡± The word slipped out, swallowed by the echo of footsteps.
Alex shut the door, the bolt sliding home with a metallic click. He stood there for a moment, the box cradled in his arms, its weight unsettlingly light. Breath hitching, he set it on the chipped kitchen table, the old wood creaking under the sudden burden. It sat there, silent and expectant, as if aware of its own importance.
With hands that barely steadied, Alex unlatched the lid. It lifted with an ease that felt unnatural, revealing its contents: an embossed envelope and a sleek, metallic device that shimmered like liquid night. He tore the seal of the letter, eyes tracing the words that leapt off the page in stark black ink.
¡°Congratulations. You have been accepted into Mount Olympus University.¡±
He blinked, the room contracting and swelling like a living thing. Mount Olympus University. The words pulsed in his mind, stirring echoes of sleepless nights spent hunched over borrowed books, Jason¡¯s half-hearted reassurances when their funds dipped below the line of reason, and the whispered dreams they dared not say aloud. The scholarship exam, a fragile bridge between desperation and hope, had been their gamble. Jason had scoffed, disbelief laced with reluctant encouragement. Yet, here it was¡ªreal, tangible, humming with the electric promise of something better.
A sound broke the silence, raw and sudden. Laughter. His own, disbelieving and edged with hysteria. Alex''s gaze slid to the helmet, its design otherworldly, teetering on the edge of something almost organic, seamless and whole as though it had been forged in the heart of a star. He picked it up, its hum vibrating along his skin, almost¡ alive.
Alex¡¯s fingers traced the device as the front door creaked open. Jason stepped inside, shadows pooling beneath his eyes, a weight in his posture that lifted when he saw Alex. Whatever haunted him, Alex knew Jason would share when he was ready.
¡°Is that¡ª?¡± Jason¡¯s voice carried a tremor, hesitant but hopeful.
Alex nodded, a grin splitting his face. ¡°I got in.¡±
For a moment, Jason¡¯s smile was real, a flicker of who he used to be before life had stripped them bare. ¡°That¡¯s incredible, Alex. You deserve this.¡±
Alex¡¯s grin widened, eyes shining with a rare spark of hope. ¡°This could change everything for us.¡±
Jason let out a breath, the tension in his frame easing just a little. Alex¡¯s excitement was infectious, the room filling with the possibility of something more than just surviving. Glancing at the letter again, Alex remembered the warning: the access codes would come separately, a layer of Excelsior¡¯s infamous security protocols. But the urge to see what lay beyond the polished helmet was irresistible. He could at least test the connection, feel the edge of the unknown.
He placed the helmet over his head, the smooth metal cool against his skin. It hummed softly, and then a small, transparent screen blinked to life before his eyes.
Calibrating¡ DNA verification in progress.
The letters were sharp, sterile, a white glow against the darkness.
Alex¡¯s breath caught as the hum deepened, a subtle vibration resonating through his skull. Suddenly, the world dissolved. The kitchen, the creaking walls, Jason¡¯s watchful gaze¡ªall of it vanished in a pixelated cascade, bleeding into shadow. The calibration screen melted away, leaving only a dark, inky expanse.
He lifted his hands and stared. They were there, yet not¡ªoutlined in flickering pixels, shifting between solidity and static. Fingers curled experimentally, and the movement echoed with a delayed, ghostly shimmer. The void around him pulsed faintly, like a living heartbeat, its dark expanse stretching endlessly.
Small motes of light, fragmented like shattered stars, blinked in and out, casting sharp, cold glimmers. There was no ground, yet Alex stood; there was no sky, yet space yawned above him, a vast emptiness that swallowed sound. He flexed his fingers again, marveling at how they shimmered between his reality and this digital abyss.
Loading environment¡
The voice that whispered from nowhere was mechanical, dispassionate, and with it came a faint vibration beneath his feet. A jagged shape began to form in the distance, pixelated and dark, something that promised both awe and the unknown.
Alex''s world shifted abruptly, the pixelated darkness around him shuddering with an unfamiliar vibration. For a moment, he was torn between two places¡ªthe cold, flickering void of the VR world and the sudden, jarring cacophony from outside. The next thing he knew, a crash ripped through his senses. His body lurched as Jason¡¯s panicked shout penetrated the digital murk, reaching him like a distant echo.
Before he could fully process, the helmet was yanked from his head, pulling him violently back into the real world. Light and sound assaulted him; he gasped, eyes snapping open, unfocused and glassy. Everything was blurred and disjointed¡ªJason¡¯s wide, frantic eyes, the overturned chair, and splintered wood scattered like jagged teeth across the floor. His head spun, the world tilting as he tried to shake off the fog.
The sharp clatter of boots against the linoleum sent a chill down his spine. A gang leader, scarred and seething, stepped into the chaos, flanked by two men with hard, unfeeling eyes. The leader¡¯s sneer cut through the room, flicking between Alex and Jason like a predator assessing prey.
¡°Double trouble. Which of you is Jason?¡±
Before the question fully landed, instinct took over. ¡°I am,¡± they both spat out simultaneously, voices firm despite the fear rippling beneath.
The leader¡¯s smile twisted, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes. ¡°Real fucking cute. Guess we¡¯ll have to beat the shit out of both of you.¡±
The next moments blurred into a storm. A fist struck Jason¡¯s stomach, doubling him over with a grunt. Alex¡¯s chest tightened as he watched his brother stagger from another blow, each hit more brutal than the last. Rage and fear clashed inside him, sparking an unyielding protectiveness.
¡°Stop it!¡± Alex yelled, surging forward. He grabbed at the leader¡¯s arm, fingers digging into rough fabric. ¡°Leave him alone!¡±
A thug spun, eyes cold, and backhanded Alex with brutal precision. Pain exploded across his cheek, sending him sprawling to the floor, the metallic taste of blood sharp on his tongue. Alex pushed himself up, eyes blazing as he met the sneer of their attackers. ¡°Jason, get out of here!¡±
¡°Hey, look what we¡¯ve got here,¡± one of the thugs called, his grin widening as he lifted the VR helmet. The room seemed to shrink as Alex¡¯s pulse hammered in his ears, fear crystallizing into raw defiance.
Reality fragmented. Alex¡¯s vision split between the chaos of the apartment¡ªJason¡¯s fists flying, a chair shattering against a thug¡¯s ribs¡ªand another world unfolding in the dark. Stars whirled like cold embers, and amid them skittered a creature, eyes glinting with mischief and menace. Its stare pinned him, cold fingers tracing his spine.
Before he could comprehend what he was seeing, a boot crashed into his side. Pain ricocheted through him, and he hit the floor hard. Jason¡¯s shout rang out, fierce and ragged, but already distant, swallowed by the roar in Alex¡¯s head.
Alex¡¯s vision swam, pain crashing over him in relentless waves. The chaos roared, muffled and dissonant, blurring the edges of reality. The helmet lay crumpled beneath the brute¡¯s boot, its sleek metal now twisted and mangled, a hollow remnant of hope. Every breath clawed at his chest, sharp and unforgiving. Blood traced a jagged path down his face, warm and metallic on his tongue. He blinked it away, eyes locking on Jason¡¯s frantic movements.
Jason lunged, fists flying, creating just enough of a distraction to shift the room¡¯s savage focus.
¡°Now¡¯s your chance, Alex! Run!¡± Jason¡¯s voice cut through the cacophony, raw and desperate.
Run? The idea blazed through Alex¡¯s mind, absurd and utterly foreign. There was no way he was going to run.
Alex pushed himself up, determination flaring, but the room spun as the gang¡¯s attention turned toward him. Fists and boots connected, each blow a starburst of pain that sent him reeling. He lashed out, catching one of them in the jaw, but it barely slowed them down. A wiry thug with a snake tattoo snarled, landing a kick that knocked Alex breathless. He hit the floor, vision darkening at the edges.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
¡°Please! Stop!¡± Jason¡¯s voice cracked, raw with terror. Alex reached out, their fingers brushing for a moment, a fleeting touch that felt like an anchor. Another fist crashed down, breaking that contact, sending him sprawling.
Every strike blurred into the next, pain folding over pain until it became a relentless wave. The gang leader stepped forward, eyes glinting with cold satisfaction as he landed a brutal kick to Alex¡¯s ribs. The sickening snap echoed through the room, sharp and final. Alex¡¯s body shuddered, the fight draining out of him, movements slowing.
He could still hear Jason¡¯s voice, desperate and hoarse, pleading for them to stop. The room dimmed, faces and shouts fading to shadows. Another kick, a white-hot flash behind his eyes. Then another presence filled the doorway. Alex¡¯s heart jumped as a familiar voice followed¡ªa voice he hadn¡¯t heard in too long. Albert. He was here, come to help. A shotgun''s metallic click cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. Pain flared bright, followed by darkness.
The last thing Alex saw was Jason, still fighting to reach him, anguish carved deep into his expression before the world faded completely, leaving only silence and the fall.
Darkness enveloped him, thick and suffocating. He was falling, the sensation endless and consuming, with no ground to meet him and no sky to pull him back. The black void stretched on, infinite and cold, swallowing him whole.
His limbs flailed uselessly, reaching for anything to anchor himself, but there was only emptiness. The air rushed past, silent and heavy, pressing against his chest and stealing the breath from his lungs. The world spun, a relentless descent with no horizon, no end, only the deep, inky chasm.
Specks of light flickered in the periphery, distant and teasing, only to fade into nothing before he could grasp them. The darkness seemed alive, speaking without a voice, shifting without form. The fall stretched on, timeless and eternal, a journey into the unknown where gravity itself felt like an illusion and the silence a prison.
His mind reached for something familiar, anything to hold on to, but the weight of the void crushed every thought, leaving only the sensation of plummeting¡ªdown, down, deeper into the abyss. The fall ended not in suffocating blackness but in a peculiar, soft tug, as though unseen hands caught him and cradled him mid-descent. Light fractured through the void, shattering the dark into shards of shimmering color. The chaos lifted, revealing a cosmos stitched from swirling galaxies and stars, their light coiling and uncoiling like ribbons. Alex found himself floating, weightless, suspended in an infinite sky that felt both familiar and alien.
When he reached out, his fingers met the cool, gritty texture of earth. He gripped it in his hands, and the world around him crawled into focus. The soft rustle of leaves and the rich scent of earth enveloped him, grounding him in this strange reality. He was lying on soft ground, the scent of damp soil and leaves rising to meet him.
He stared up at the canopy of trees, their ancient branches weaving a lattice of shadows and light. The sky pierced through in fragmented shafts, dappling the forest floor with pools of silver and gold. He was somewhere deep within a forest, a place both serene and unsettling, where the sky only whispered its presence through the gaps above.
He blinked, trying to make sense of it all, when a low, amused voice hummed from somewhere above. ¡°Lost, are we?¡±
Alex¡¯s gaze snapped up. Perched on the branch of a twisted, gnarled tree that seemed to root in the void itself was a cat. Its fur shimmered with shifting hues of twilight, eyes like molten gold that blinked down at him with lazy curiosity. A long tail dangled below, swinging like a pendulum in the star-filled expanse.
¡°Who...?¡± Alex began, voice barely a whisper.
The cat¡¯s mouth stretched into a smile, full of mischief and secrets. ¡°I¡¯m Jack. And you, Alex, are extraordinarily lucky¡ and not.¡± The cat¡¯s grin widened as it leapt gracefully from the branch, landing soundlessly on an invisible surface before him.
"Where¡" Alex began.
¡°You¡¯re in The In Between¡ªa place between all places.¡±
Alex¡¯s head spun, the voice sounding both strange and inexplicably familiar. His legs trembled as he tried to steady himself, taking in the way the stars bent and swirled around them, as if the fabric of reality itself was shifting.
¡°The In Between? I don¡¯t understand. Am I... dead?¡±
Jack¡¯s golden eyes softened, though his smile remained. ¡°Not dead, no. But not entirely whole either. You were torn, drifting across the cracks of existence. I couldn¡¯t let that happen.¡± The cat¡¯s tail flicked, and a strange light shimmered in its gaze. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be here, you know. This world isn¡¯t meant for beings like me. But when I saw you falling, I had to do something.¡±
Alex swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in his throat.
¡°What¡¡±
¡°Yes.¡± Jack tilted his head, eyes glimmering with a knowing mischief. ¡°This place thrives on the lost, on souls who wander too far and forget their way. They¡¯ll devour without pause, without mercy. But you¡¯re different, Alex. Surviving here will teach you why.¡± His tail swept lazily over the dark expanse, and for an instant, the stars themselves seemed to lean in, straining to catch his words.
Alex parted his lips to question, but Jack¡¯s purr sliced through the silence, soft and razor-sharp. ¡°Hush, dear boy. Time here is fragile, and words are costly. Easy to enter, hard to leave. Few ever have, and fewer still lived to tell of it. Rare, yes. But not impossible.¡±
¡°But¡ª¡± Alex tried again, urgency cracking his voice.
¡°Very few paths lead out, and none you¡¯d likely choose,¡± Jack said, his grin stretching wider, but his eyes sad. ¡°This is not my domain, or I¡¯d share more secrets. But every universe has its rules and quirks, and this one¡¡± His voice dropped to a whisper, silk and smoke. ¡°This one dances to the rhythm of senseless things. It delights in the illogical, cradles madness like a cherished toy. Remember that, dear boy, before you make a move.¡±
Jack sighed, his form rippling as if made from the breath of galaxies. The edges of his silhouette blurred, stardust trailing away into the yawning dark.
¡°I can¡¯t linger. This realm won¡¯t suffer me long,¡± he continued, voice shifting, taking on an eerie, echoing quality. ¡°Not all is as it seems, and what it seems isn¡¯t all that it is. Remember, Alex¡ªlook beyond the obvious.¡±
¡°Wait, please!¡± Alex reached out, the ache in his chest blooming into desperation.
¡°Tut-tut,¡± Jack¡¯s laughter drifted back, a sound both warm and unnervingly distant. His body dissolved like smoke on the breeze, leaving only the shimmer of stars that sighed as they retreated to their eternal dance. The silence that followed was a heavy, sentient thing, watching and waiting.
Alex stood alone in the starlit expanse, unmoving for what felt like an eternity. "Just a dream," he whispered, a mantra to anchor himself. He glanced down at his hands; they shimmered faintly, reminiscent of when he had connected to the Device. But now, they appeared ghostly, hollowed out, as if half his substance had been siphoned away, leaving only an memory of solidity.
The Device¡ Jason! The memory surged back: the fight, the chaos, Jason¡¯s face twisted with desperation. And then Albert¡ªBert¡ªloomed in his mind, a friend so close he was practically family. His chestnut hair catching the light as he stood, shotgun in hand, eyes fierce and unwavering. Jason had to be alright. Bert would never let anything happen to him.
Alex shifted his weight. The ground beneath him felt solid enough, yet the sensation was strange, as if it held him on borrowed time. The first step sent a ripple through the world, like the surface of water trembling under a touch. Seasons shifted with every movement Alex made¡ªone step forward and the air grew thick with the scent of spring, fresh rain on wildflowers; another step, and summer heat seared the space around him, heavy and all that was. He paused, heart thudding in his chest, and looked up. The sky twisted in an impossible kaleidoscope, colors bleeding and merging: vivid purples, electric greens, deep bruised blues that shimmered like the scales of a great serpent.
Every direction held a promise of change. He turned to the left, and autumn leaves cascaded around him, their fiery colors swirling like embers caught in a storm. To the right, the world dipped into winter, frost creeping over the ground in delicate patterns, the air biting and cold. His breath turned to mist, and the chill seeped into his bones before the next step shattered the illusion, flinging him into another, stranger place.
The ground beneath him felt as though it might break apart, shifting and reforming with each hesitant step. Soon, Alex found himself at the base of an impossible structure¡ªa labyrinthine web of staircases, woven together like some fevered dream. They twisted and coiled, branching into directions that defied gravity and reason. Stairs climbed into the sky and plunged into the earth; some folded in on themselves, others led nowhere but to thin air.
He stepped cautiously onto the first stair. It held. His pulse quickened, the air thick with an electric buzz that set his nerves on edge. He ascended, the surreal angles warping beneath his feet, his balance teetering as the structure seemed to bend and breathe. The stars above swirled faster, streaks of light slicing the sky, some hitting the distant horizon and exploding in silent flares.
A sound, small and rustling, drew his attention. Shadows clustered in the corners of the stairwell. Eyes glinted within the darkness, dozens of them, too small and bright to belong to anything he knew. The creatures slithered into view, tiny, impish things with limbs that clicked and twitched. Their bodies were like shards of glass and black smoke, mouths filled with needle teeth that shone when they grinned. They fed on a spark of light at the base of the stairs, a dim, quivering glow that pulsed like a heartbeat. It looked like one of the fallen stars, fragile and flickering, its light struggling against the encroaching dark.
He looked closer and realized it was no star. Alex¡¯s heart seized at the sight¡ªa bird-like creature, no bigger than his hand, feathers painted in impossible hues of red and blue that shimmered even in its broken state. It looked like something pulled from the depths of a dream. It was alive¡ªits fragile form trembling under the strain of holding onto life.
He felt a pang deep in his chest, a reminder of the dreams he once held. In another time, in another place, Alex would have been a veterinarian. He had always loved helping animals, being a guardian for those who had no voice of their own. But in a world that barely managed to take care of itself, that dream was as fragile as the bird before him. Still, animals remained symbols of hope and love, small, innocent reminders of a world that had once known both.
The monsters swarmed it, tiny fangs digging in as they devoured the light it emitted. The bird twitched weakly, a soundless cry on its beak.
¡°Shoo!¡± Alex shouted, rushing forward. He kicked out at the creatures, his foot connecting with a sickening, brittle crack. The tiny monsters scattered, hissing like steam as they fled into the crevices of the twisted stairways. He dropped to his knees beside the bird, hands trembling as he reached out.
The creature¡¯s eyes fluttered open, deep and dark, flecked with stardust. It looked at him, and then, impossibly, it smiled¡ªa curve of its delicate beak that felt like a warm ember in his chest.
¡°Are you here to eat me?¡± The voice was deep and resonant, yet it didn¡¯t come from its throat. It thrummed in Alex¡¯s mind, a telepathic whisper that filled the silence.
¡°No.¡± Alex¡¯s voice cracked, his throat tight with disgust at the thought. ¡°I¡¯d never hurt you.¡±
The bird¡¯s gaze searched his, softening with a look of disbelief. ¡°Then why?¡±
¡°You¡¯re going to be okay.¡± His voice wavered with a desperation that surprised him.
¡°Help¡ me?¡± It spoke again, surprise coloring its mental tone. A soft cough shook its tiny body, and it shuddered in his hands.
¡°Of course,¡± Alex said, eyes stinging with unshed tears. The weight of the creature¡¯s fragility, the surreal nature of this entire place, pressed down on him like a storm.
The bird¡¯s eyes glistened with an ancient wisdom, the kind of knowing that only comes from millennia of living. ¡°You don¡¯t belong here, do you?¡± it asked, feathers quivering.
¡°No,¡± Alex whispered. ¡°I need to get back home. I need to wake up.¡±
The bird¡¯s gaze grew distant, thoughtful, before another tremor wracked its small frame. ¡°Thank you for showing me this moment of kindness. I had all but lost hope. I have been dying here for nearly a thousand years. Unable to revive, unable to move on. I could not let the darkness consume me¡ I could not give it my power.¡±
Alex¡¯s breath caught in his throat. ¡°You¡¯ve been here for a thousand years?¡±
A faint nod. ¡°In my home world, I live far longer. But I lost my way, and now¡ memory has faded. It has been so very long.¡±
Alex glanced at the shifting lights in the sky, their arcs forming trails of shimmering silver. ¡°There are so many lost souls here, aren¡¯t there? This place¡ it feeds on them.¡±
¡°Yes.¡± The bird¡¯s voice faltered. ¡°Both good and evil, men and monsters alike.¡± It coughed again, the glow within its chest flickering dangerously. ¡°Take it,¡± it said, its voice cracking with urgency.
¡°What?¡± Alex¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion and dread tangling inside him.
¡°Take it,¡± the bird repeated, a light beginning to spill from its chest, a pure, radiant glow that painted the stairway in hues of crimson and sapphire. The brilliance of it made Alex¡¯s heart clench.
¡°No.¡± Tears welled in his eyes, the idea of accepting such a gift feeling too cruel, too final. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±
¡°You must. If you don¡¯t, the darkness will consume it, and it will grow stronger. Please¡ take it.¡±
A sob escaped him, raw and unbidden, as the light swelled, spilling into his hands like liquid fire. The bird¡¯s body shimmered, its eyes closing with the peaceful finality of sleep.
Alex¡¯s fingers glowed with the essence of the creature, the energy seeping into his skin, warming him from the inside out. Memories that were not his surged through him¡ªendless skies filled with dazzling stars, a family with feathers of flame and frost, the ache of being lost, the resilience in holding on despite the odds. He looked down and his form grew more solid, more whole.
A sudden, blinding light bloomed in front of him, expanding until it filled his vision.
You have consumed: Essence of the Eternal Bird
988,457 raw aetheric light
Calibrating rank¡ error
The words seared themselves into his mind, and then his body burst with a brilliance that defied reality. Light streamed from him in torrents, radiant and untamed, sending the shadows that lurked in the crevices of the stairway skittering back in fear.
Alex gasped, the power flooding every cell, overwhelming and electrifying. His vision blurred, the twisting world bending into shapes and colors he couldn¡¯t comprehend. His fingers, aglow with a new, unfathomable energy, stretched before his eyes. The warmth of the bird¡¯s final gift coursed through him, filling the spaces that fear and doubt had once occupied.
Chapter Three: Jasons Lost and Found - Jason
Chapter Three: Jason''s Lost and Found
Jason
With a weary sigh, Jace stood and stretched, muscles aching with the satisfying fatigue that followed a day well spent. It had been days since the Midnight Festival and the whirlwind of chaos that came with it. The weight of those events still lingered, pressing down on everything like the aftermath of a car crash¡ªtense and bruised. But it was beginning to ease. Moments of quiet and comfort had started to slip through the cracks, fragile and welcome.
The night around him felt softer, carrying a sense of calm that resonated deep within¡ªlike releasing a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding, letting a silent resolution settle into his bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, the pieces of his life seemed to align, hinting at where he fit within the sprawling chaos. Here, he could carve out meaning, find purpose amidst the tumult.
He moved around his dorm, the soft creak of floorboards underfoot breaking the quiet. His gaze caught on the old mirror affixed to the wall. It was a relic, tarnished and simple, half-forgotten amidst the swirl of magic and upheaval that had come to define his existence. He paused, an unease coiling in the back of his mind. The reflection stared back at him, but something was wrong. A subtle misalignment, a lag as though the mirrored image were acting of its own accord, a second too slow.
Jace stepped closer, a frown etching lines into his brow. His breath stilled, and a tingling pulse swept over him as his affinity for Truth and Soul awakened, sharpening his senses as though they were being fine-tuned by an unseen hand. The air around him thickened, buzzing with a latent energy.
And then he saw it. The reflection didn¡¯t just lag; it shifted. Its eyes were wide and its mouth moved soundlessly, shaping a word he could not hear, only feel in the marrow of his bones.
¡°Jason.¡±
His name trembled through him like a whisper from the past. His eyes narrowed, heart pounding. ¡°Alex?¡± he said, voice splintered with disbelief and hope.
In the mirror, the reflection nodded, desperation etched into every line of its face. The hand in the glass moved, palm pressing against the surface as though it could break through. A silent plea, a bridge between worlds.
Jace didn¡¯t think, he simply reacted. His own hand rose and met the cool surface of the mirror. Ice against his skin, then heat, then something that defied the reality he knew. The glass quivered, rippling as though water had been disturbed by an unseen current. The pull was immediate, inescapable. Before reason or fear could take hold, he was swept forward¡ªtumbling through the mirror, into the unknown, the reflection shattering around him in a thousand silent shards.
The dorm room stood quiet in his absence, the candle¡¯s flame flickering in a final, solitary dance. No witness remained to the event, only the mirror, now dark and unmoving, reflecting nothing but the empty room.
The world shifted beneath Jason¡¯s feet, colors bending, angles distorting, as if reality itself had forgotten what it was meant to be. For a breathless heartbeat, there was nothing but the cold, metallic taste of fear, and then gravity remembered him, flinging him into a landscape without form or function.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Jason crashed against the ground, the impact jarring his bones, driving the breath from his lungs. He rolled to his knees, groaning, taking in the world¡ªor what passed for a world here. He stood amidst a land of distortions and contradictions, where space itself twisted into spirals and stretched into eternity, then folded into nothingness, all within a heartbeat. The horizon bent inward, impossibly close, while the sky fractured like a kaleidoscope of shattered seasons¡ªsummer bleeding into winter, and autumn smoldering into the pastels of spring.
Jason staggered to his feet, his eyes adjusting to the mad play of colors and shapes. He was surrounded by bizarre trees with branches that dipped and curled like the hands of beggars, leaves shimmering in hues that defied description. Strange birds wheeled above him, their cries dissonant, like a broken music box.
This wasn¡¯t Terra Mythica¡ªnor was it Earth. It was a different kind of madness.
He felt Truth and Soul coursing through him, pulling apart the veil of the world. A notification appeared in his mind.
You have entered a null space.
A world between worlds.
All things come, all things go, yet this place never was and always will be. It is the crossroads of the lost and found, where all realms touch and overlap. In the grand cosmic dance, you now stand upon the floor, caught between the steps.
Jace was only just beginning to tap into the depths of his new Affinity¡ªTruth. It granted him an insight that cut through the superficial, revealing details he had once only brushed against. His ability to Identify grew sharper, peeling back the layers of reality and exposing what truly lay beneath. With each use, he felt as though he was no longer just observing the world, but understanding it on an elemental level.
He could feel it in the air: an undercurrent, an endless hum, as though the landscape itself pulsed with life, malevolent or indifferent. A chill ran through him.
He took a step forward, his footfall echoed¡ªno, reverberated¡ªas if the sound had a mind of its own, bouncing off walls that weren¡¯t there. A path seemed to unfurl before him, a staircase that had no visible end, its steps snaking into the mist until they disappeared entirely.
¡°Jason!¡±
Jason¡¯s eyes snapped wide at the familiar voice, his heart thundering with a mix of shock and hope. He spun, and there he was¡ªAlex, standing tall and commanding against the backdrop of the twisted, ever-shifting sky. He was perched on a looping stone archway that defied the very laws of gravity, a figure carved from shadow and light. The boy Jason had known was gone, replaced by a man draped in flowing robes as dark as midnight, trimmed with glimmers of silver thread that shimmered like stars. Strange symbols etched into the fabric pulsed faintly, their meaning just out of reach¡ªeven for Jason''s newfound insight. His long hair cascaded down in loose, unruly waves, and intricate rings glinted on his fingers¡ªeach a testament to some battle won or power claimed.
Alex leaped down effortlessly, his boots landing with a whisper against the ground, defying the weight of his presence. He stood before Jason, shoulders broad and adorned with a cloak that looked as though it had been woven from storm clouds and shadow. Chains of obsidian and polished onyx wound around his forearms, catching the light in sharp, biting reflections. His eyes, deep and sharp, told stories of battles fought, realms traversed, and a power that had become second nature.
¡°Alex?¡± Jason breathed, voice cracking under the strain of emotion, his entire heart threatening to spill out in that single word. He took a step forward, and Alex''s arms moved without hesitation, pulling him into a fierce embrace that was both a reunion and a shield against the chaos around them.
When they parted, their eyes met, glistening with unshed tears that mirrored each other¡¯s¡ªan unspoken acknowledgment of the time lost, the battles fought alone, and the ache of absence finally mended.
¡°I knew you¡¯d make the jump,¡± Alex said, his voice deeper now, resonant and steady, yet laced with something cold¡ªnot unkind, but changed, like a well-worn map etched with tales of long days far behind. Despite the hardness, Jason saw the brother he remembered. The tear that slipped down Alex¡¯s face said everything that words could not.
Chapter Four: Of Beginnings and Ends
Chapter Four: Of Beginnings and Ends
Jason suddenly realized he was still in his pajamas, a reminder of how abruptly he¡¯d been pulled into the mirror. They were surprisingly elegant, deep shades of midnight blue with stars that shimmered and shifted, forming glowing constellations across the fabric. With a quick thought, he activated his inventory, swapping the pajamas for the outfit Twig had custom-made for him¡ªsleek, black tactical combat gear adorned with subtle, intricate details. A cape draped behind him, etched with a white raven in mid-flight, its wings spread wide and fierce, completing the look. It was everything he needed¡ªfunctional, imposing, and undeniably awesome.
A wave of relief washed over him as he realized he still had access to his inventory and gear.
¡°Where are we?¡± Jason asked, glancing around. The place felt like a forest, but not quite¡ªa twisted imitation of one. The trees were gnarled, their bark cracked and veined with a faint luminescence.
Alex shrugged, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. ¡°I call it Wonderland. But, more properly, it¡¯s known as the In Between. A place that doesn¡¯t fit anywhere else¡ªa pocket between realms.¡± He paused, taking in Jason¡¯s bewildered face with a flicker of something between sadness and affection. ¡°Years, brother. It¡¯s been years. You have no idea.¡±
Jason blinked, his head throbbing as the landscape around him twisted in impossible ways¡ªtrees grew sideways, their branches clawing at nothing, the ground seemed both soft as moss and solid as stone. ¡°Months, more like,¡± he muttered.
¡°For you, yeah. In Terra Mythica, it¡¯s been months. On Earth, it¡¯s been days or weeks. But here, for me... it¡¯s been years.¡± Alex¡¯s eyes clouded for a second before he turned his gaze back to Jason, his smirk now a little thinner, more worn.
¡°How did you¡¡± Jason struggled for words, his throat tightening. ¡°How did you survive here?¡±
Alex¡¯s smile came, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°Come on. We have a lot to discuss, and less time to discuss it in.¡± He motioned for Jason to follow. ¡°We need to keep moving. It doesn¡¯t like visitors.¡±
Jason¡¯s brow furrowed, unease prickling up his spine. ¡°Who¡¯s ¡®it¡¯?¡±
Alex¡¯s gaze flickered sideways, his eyes catching a movement that Jason could barely comprehend¡ªa shadow slipping between trees that weren¡¯t quite trees. He didn¡¯t answer, just pressed forward, feet navigating a spiraling path that led deeper, downwards, into what seemed like an endless abyss.
The trees leaned closer, curious, their branches grazing Jason¡¯s shoulders, small touches that crawled up his nerves like ants. He stumbled, the ground beneath him shifting, slipping away, while Alex moved forward with an uncanny confidence, his steps sure and silent.
¡°What happened to you, Alex?¡± Jason finally managed to say, his voice a low rasp.
Alex paused, staring at something in the distance Jason couldn¡¯t see. ¡°I learned how to make this place my own,¡± he murmured. ¡°You can¡¯t just get along here. You have to tame it. You have to carve out a part of it as yours.¡± He gestured for Jason to keep up. ¡°Come.¡±
They walked through landscapes that changed with each breath¡ªdense, dark forests gave way to sprawling deserts, and those shifted into still, ice-covered lakes. Each transition was abrupt, seamless, like passing through invisible doors to worlds that barely connected¡ªsome terrains lasted only moments, as fleeting as the last lights of dusk, while others stretched on, holding their form longer, resisting the change.
The ground grew cold beneath Jason¡¯s feet as they crossed the ice. The air crackled with the scent of frost and something ancient, something Jason couldn¡¯t name but could feel in his bones.
¡°Reality doesn¡¯t work here like it does elsewhere,¡± Alex said, his voice carrying in the chill air. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for decades¡ªmaybe centuries. I stopped keeping track.¡±
Jason¡¯s heart clenched. He had never imagined that his brother¡ªthe one who used to build forts with him out of blankets and sneak him extra dessert that they couldn¡¯t really afford¡ªhad been fighting alone for so long.
¡°I¡¯ve been keeping tabs on you,¡± Alex said, breaking the silence.
Jason glanced at him, startled. ¡°Oh?¡±
¡°Mirrors are strange things. Reality is built on what we know, what we trust to be solid and unyielding. But mirrors? They twist that certainty, bending it just enough to show us the cracks. They¡¯re distortions, thin veils where truth is weaker. I thought you almost noticed me once or twice, but your were just checking yourself out.¡±
A grin cracked across Jason¡¯s face, despite the absurdity of it all. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like me.¡±
Alex gave a short laugh. ¡°I tried to reach out a decade or two ago, but I wasn¡¯t strong enough yet. Not until now. Your new understandings helped too.¡±
¡°You mean my Affinity? Truth?¡±
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what they call it in Mythica. Your Affinity. Makes it sound like it¡¯s something separate from you, something outside yourself. When really, it¡¯s just you unlocking more of your¡ youness.¡±
They fell into silence, the kind that was filled with too much to say and too little way to say it. The world shifted, morphing into a rugged cliffscape, lush with green moss and wild grasses clinging to the rock. The scent of salt and the distant roar of the ocean filled the air. A clearing unfurled before them, its edges jagged and raw, and at its center loomed a structure¡ªmonstrous and awe-inspiring. It was a twisted blend of stone and bone, as if it had been wrenched from the nightmares of giants and molded into the shape of a fortress. It loomed over them, dark power radiating from its walls, tugging at something deep inside Jason. It clung to the edge of the bluffs like an ancient beast, carved with impossible angles and intricate runes that seemed to pulse with a deep, thrumming energy.
¡°This is my place,¡± Alex said, his voice carrying a grim pride. ¡°One of the few places where the rules make sense¡ªwhere I can breathe without feeling the world pressing in on me.¡±
The fortress seemed to shiver as they approached. Jason watched as the walls rippled, bones shifting, stone grinding, until teeth sprouted along the doorway. The entire structure seemed to lean towards him, ready to consume.
¡°Whoa¡¡± Jason stepped back, his mind flicking to his inventory. The familiar weight of his sword materialized in his grip, a rush of relief coursing through him.
¡°Hey, hey,¡± Alex said, holding up a hand. ¡°You can¡¯t just rush in. Give it a pet, let it know you¡¯re friendly.¡±
Jason shot him an incredulous look, but Alex merely gestured for him to put his sword away.
¡°What, you¡¯ve never petted a house before? Come on, we don¡¯t have all day.¡±
Jason vanished his sword into his inventory and reached out, his fingers brushing against the rough surface. It was warm, pulsing, like touching the belly of some enormous beast. Slowly, the teeth retracted, the door opening to allow them inside.
¡°See? Easy,¡± Alex said, motioning for him to enter.
The inside was a maddening labyrinth of twisted staircases and warped hallways¡ªimpossible angles and paths that led in spirals, upwards and downwards without any logic. The air was thick, and the walls seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting with a slow, deep rhythm. Alex led Jason into a room that might have been a kitchen¡ªa massive table at its center, cluttered with artifacts, objects that looked both ancient and dangerous.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Alex put on a kettle. ¡°I never liked tea before. But I¡¯ve grown accustomed to it here.¡±
Jason glanced around, his eyes catching on an intricately carved statue that seemed to move when he wasn¡¯t looking directly at it. ¡°This place¡ it¡¯s insane.¡±
¡°It¡¯s home,¡± Alex said simply.
The kettle whistled, and Alex poured them both a steaming cup. Jason took it, the warmth settling into his hands. He brought the cup to his lips, and instantly a notification popped up in his vision¡ªthe System text overlaying his sight.
***
Mystic Brew Consumed: +5 Focus, +3 Clarity for the next hour.
***
¡°How?¡± Jason blinked, almost spilling the tea.
¡°How are you still seeing prompts here?¡± Alex asked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. ¡°Yeah, that would be Jack. Somewhere along the way, working with John Rearden, he started using prompts to communicate. It was a way he could interact without focusing directly¡ªmore like a reflex. Helps humans acclimate. Something about the mind rejecting new places. A system¡¯s familiarity helps smooth the transition. It doesn¡¯t all make sense, but it works. Fewer deaths on transfer, apparently.¡±
Jason frowned. ¡°You know Jack?¡±
Alex took a sip of his tea, nodding. ¡°We all know Jack, in one way or another. At least, anyone that¡¯s connected to Terra Mythica. He¡¯s part of why¡ I¡¯m still here.¡±
They drank in silence, the warmth of the tea at odds with the cold, unsettling presence of the room. Jason struggled to shake the strangeness of the moment¡ªsitting here, drinking tea, with his brother who had somehow lived centuries in a world that defied reality.
Alex finally spoke, his voice low and serious. ¡°It¡¯s time you knew the truth.¡± He met Jason¡¯s eyes, the weight of the words clear. ¡°There¡¯s a war coming, Jace. Not just in Terra Mythica. It¡¯s already begun¡ªhere, between the forces of Chaos and Order. And we¡ we¡¯re at the center of it.¡±
Alex paused, a shadow passing over his face. ¡°There¡¯s so much you don¡¯t know about the path ahead, Jason. And I can¡¯t tell you everything. There are rules, boundaries to this place. But with the war that¡¯s coming, there are two things you need to know.¡± He leaned in, his voice dropping low with a solemn intensity. ¡°You need to find the Book of Prophecies. Rita Nutkins. It holds the key. And you need to win the Winter Games.¡±
¡°The Winter Games?¡± Jason¡¯s brow furrowed. He¡¯d heard murmurs about the event, a heated debate among students over whether it should even take place this year. But despite the uncertainty, the Archmage had declared it would proceed as planned.
¡°Are you going to question everything I say? Yes, the Winter Games,¡± Alex said, his tone exasperated but patient. ¡°Once a year, in Mythica, the Games take place. Students from across the world converge at a massive tower in the heart of Mesopotamia, known locally as Roandia.¡±
¡°Roandia?¡± Jason echoed, an eyebrow quirking in playful defiance.
Alex¡¯s lips twitched, a hint of a smirk. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m older and wiser than you now. And I can still take you down.¡±
¡°I¡¯d like to see you try,¡± Jason shot back, a grin splitting his face as dark swirls of shadow began to coil around him, his cloak pulsing with latent energy.
Alex shook his head and let out a sigh, but a flicker of pride lit up his eyes.
¡°Our parents¡ they were part of this too.¡±
Jason nodded. ¡°The Dark One, I know.¡±
Alex¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°I know you know bits and pieces. But this is important. Roandia¡ªit¡¯s where we were born,¡± he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°Jack¡¯s interest in us isn¡¯t a coincidence. We hold pieces of the puzzle, Jason.¡±
Jason¡¯s brows knit together, frustration seeping into his voice. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±
Alex exhaled, the sound heavy with restraint. ¡°Ugh, I sound just like Jack now. Listen, this place doesn¡¯t allow certain truths to be spoken outright. Just having you here bends the rules to the breaking point. It takes nearly all of my power just to hide you from them. But listen to me¡ªRita¡¯s Prophecies and the Winter Games. You have to win, Jason. Everything depends on it. Everything.¡±
Before Jason could react, a deep rumble shivered through the air. The walls groaned, the floor tilted sharply, and the entire fortress began to shift, rising as if it were waking from a long slumber. The tremors grew fiercer, each shudder more violent than the last.
¡°They¡¯ve found us,¡± Alex said, a shadow crossing his face.
¡°Who?¡± Jason scrambled for balance, barely keeping on his feet.
¡°See for yourself.¡±
Jason lunged for the window and stared out into the twilight of the In Between. Massive stone legs, jagged and battle-scarred, jutted from beneath the fortress, lifting it higher with each thundering step.
In the distance, shapes moved¡ªdark, monstrous things, shifting, flickering, like shadows given form. They were teeth and claws and eyes, bodies twisted into grotesque parodies of something like wolves¡ªor was it bears?
The fortress groaned again, its legs¡ªmassive, spindly things¡ªemerging from beneath the ground, lifting the structure high into the air. The monsters reached them, some clawing at the legs, others leaping, trying to scale the walls. The fortress swiped at them, its limbs crashing down, batting the creatures away.
¡°What do we do?¡± Jason asked, his voice tight with urgency.
Alex met his gaze, eyes blazing with a fierce, unyielding light. And then, with a boyish grin that defied the years between them, he said, ¡°We fight.¡±
With a shared nod, the two brothers moved in perfect sync. They sprang forward, the air crackling with raw energy as they vaulted through the open window. The wind roared past them, and for a split second, there was only the rush of freefall and the pounding of their hearts. Alex accelerated mid-air, a burst of energy propelling him forward in a streak of light and force. Jason was right beside him, using Soul Step to close the final distance and soften his landing, the ground quaking beneath their feet as they plunged into the chaos. Their hearts pounded, adrenaline surging, swords already drawn and poised for battle.
Jason sidestepped a swipe of jagged bones and gnashing teeth, his Affinities flaring to life as he darted between the massive, stone legs of the fortress. Shadows gathered around him, coiling, forming into vines that lashed out, wrapping around one of the creatures, pulling it to the ground. He stepped, his body flickering, disappearing from one spot and reappearing in another, his sword already in his hand, its blade biting into the flesh of a massive, black-furred beast.
Beside him, Alex moved like a storm, power crackling through the air, which shimmered with raw, electric energy. Bursts of green and violet light erupted from his hands as he spun, each movement fluid and deadly. The monsters that surged toward them were grotesque amalgamations¡ªhulking forms with the massive bulk of bears, but supported by unnaturally long, sinewy legs. Their gaping mouths were filled with rows upon rows of jagged teeth, and exposed bone jutted through their fur in sharp, uneven spikes, giving them a nightmarish, skeletal armor.
Alex struck with wild grace, each blow precise, his eyes blazing with a fierce joy that made him seem almost untouchable. For a fleeting moment amidst the chaos, Jason felt it too¡ªthe rush of battle, the shared thrill of fighting side by side with his brother, back to back, just like when they were kids playing at heroes.
But the creatures kept coming, wave after wave, their grotesque forms shifting and adapting with each surge. They grew larger, their skin hardening into a dark, chitinous armor that deflected Jason¡¯s blows. His breaths came ragged now, each swing of his sword met with mounting resistance. The fortress shuddered violently, its massive legs quivering under the relentless onslaught, cracks forming in the stone as it struggled to hold its ground. The thunderous roar of the beasts and the grating scrape of claws against rock filled the air, drowning out even the pounding of Jason¡¯s heartbeat.
¡°Jason!¡± Alex shouted over the roar of battle, his voice straining to pierce the chaos. ¡°They¡¯re coming here because they can sense you. It¡¯s taking everything I have to dampen your essence, but it¡¯s not enough. They¡¯re like white blood cells, honing in, and more keep finding you. If you don¡¯t leave now, they¡¯ll overwhelm us. There¡¯ll be too many, even for me.¡±
Jason gritted his teeth, his heart pounding. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you! Come with me.¡±
Alex smiled, a sad, knowing smile. ¡°This is where I¡¯m needed. For now, at least. There¡¯s so much I wish I could say, so much I¡¯ve wanted to tell you over these years. But you have to trust me.¡±
Something cracked deep inside Jason, a pain sharper than any blade he had ever known. His chest tightened, and his voice shook as he yelled, ¡°I won¡¯t leave you! Not again.¡± The final words fell softer, almost a whisper, meant more for himself than for Alex¡ªa plea born of old scars and unhealed wounds, remnants of beginnings and ends.
Alex¡¯s smile widened, softening into something genuine and heartfelt. His eyes, fierce with determination but a moment ago, now glistened with a rare vulnerability. ¡°I love you, bro.¡±
Alex paused, mid-fight, his hands moving in a fluid motion, drawing symbols in the air. The world behind Jason shimmered, a portal opening, its edges rippling like water. Jason felt the pull, an invisible force wrapping around him, tightening like a vice. It dragged at him, relentless and irresistible, making every muscle strain in protest. It felt like the universe itself was rejecting his very presence. He tried to fight it, to anchor himself, to Soul Step, but it was no use¡ªhis body surrendered to the powerful current, drawing him back.
¡°No!¡± he shouted, reaching out, but it was too late. The portal swallowed him, the world spinning, twisting, colors and shapes blurring together until¡ª
He landed hard, the ground beneath him cold and unforgiving, the impact jolting through his bones. Disoriented, he blinked rapidly, his vision clearing just in time to see his reflection flicker in the towering, ornate mirror before him¡ªits silver frame cracked and ancient, swirling with faint remnants of energy. He had burst through it, tumbling out in a rush of cold wind and shadows that dissipated into the air.
The mess hall stretched around him, alive with the familiar murmur of voices, the clatter of cutlery, and the warm, rich scent of roasted meat and spiced bread. The portal sealed with a resounding thrum, the shimmering surface of the mirror solidifying back into glass, trapping the battles of the In Between¡ªand his brother¡ªbehind it.
Chapter Five: Impossible Things
Chapter Five: Impossible Things
The ornate glass quivered, catching the dim light in a dance of shifting blues and silvers, before it stilled, reflecting nothing more than the amber glow of the candlelit room. The students lingering in the hall¡ªsleepless scholars clutching books and parchments¡ªfroze, their collective breath caught mid-syllable. But at Mount Olympus University, where magic bled into the mundane, the moment passed like a breeze over water. Attention drifted back to the rustle of pages, murmured theories, and the clatter of quills as though the shimmer had been nothing more than a stray draft.
Jace sat there for what felt like an eternity, a hollow ache spreading through him, as if the universe itself had been handed to him only to be ripped away again. The weight of it threatened to crush him, emotions roiling beneath the surface, ready to spill over and drown him. He couldn¡¯t bear it alone anymore; the isolation gnawed at him like a living thing. He needed to talk to someone¡ªanyone¡ªwho wouldn¡¯t think he was insane. But how could he even begin to explain?
¡°Hey, I¡¯ve been lying to you about who I am, and, by the way, I¡¯m the son of the Dark One. My brother? Stuck on the other side of every mirror. And, oh yeah, the fate of all universes somehow hinges on me.¡± The words in his mind felt ridiculous, heavy as iron and just as impossible to lift. It would go over like a lead balloon, shattering whatever fragile trust he still had.
And yet, despite the crushing doubt, the need burned in him¡ªurgent and raw. He needed to speak, to share the truth that coiled inside him like a serpent, suffocating him. He needed someone to hear him, to help carry this impossible burden, before it consumed him whole.
Jace felt it then, a tug deep in his chest, taut as an invisible golden thread pulling him forward. The sensation was familiar now, but still raw, like the memory of pain. His Affinity for Truth¡ªso recently awakened in a blaze of revelation he barely comprehended¡ªstirred within him. He closed his eyes and focused. For an instant, the line almost materialized before him, glistening with an ethereal, otherworldly light that tugged him forward. Jace was quickly finding that the Truth Affinity was less about revealing truths and more about pushing him toward where to look¡ªbut the looking was up to him. He was learning to follow these feelings, these perceptions, these glowing pulls toward the unknown. He followed the nudge into the courtyard outside.
His pulse quickened, each beat a metronome ticking off unfinished business. The campus sprawled around him, worn paths lined with ancient oaks and ivy-covered columns that kept stories of ages past. There was comfort in the well-trodden paths but not enough to quiet the storm in his chest.
The night stretched wide above him, deep and blue as velvet, pierced by the cold light of a thousand stars. Their fractured glow pooled in silvery puddles across the stone courtyard, painting shadows that shifted as he moved. Yet tonight, the campus felt changed, charged with an energy he couldn¡¯t quite name. The same halls, the same air steeped in old spells and murmurs of power, but something beneath it all had shifted, an unseen ripple that refused to settle.
He passed the statues that lined the old path, their stony expressions cast in solemn defiance. One, depicting Ares mid-battle with a lion, tilted its head ever so slightly, the marble lips curving into the barest hint of a smile. Jace blinked, his breath catching in his throat. The statues were known to shift occasionally¡ªmoving about the campus¡ªbut they largely paid no attention to the comings and goings of the students.
Shadows loomed thick around him, writhing into shapes that defied reason. Only minutes had passed since his escape from the In Between, but it felt like centuries. Time in that place bent and fractured, stretching moments until they shredded into slivers of memory that clung to him now, fleeting and ghostly.
The tug inside him tightened, gentle but insistent, like the hand of fate itself reaching through the night to guide him. He closed his eyes and let the sensation settle, feeling the golden thread of magic wind around his heart and pull eastward, towards the Hermes district. The line shimmered in his vision, an almost tangible path glittering through the gloom of archways and shadow-laced corridors.
Jace moved forward, each step striking the stone with steady purpose. The night air, cool and sharp, filled his lungs, grounding him as he tried to exhale the heavy tang of dread and hope entwined. Around him, the campus breathed with muted life. Amber lanterns hanging from wrought-iron posts sputtered, their golden light spilling over the cobblestones, casting long, swaying shadows. The laughter of late-night stragglers sliced through the quiet, brittle and quick, a reminder that even at this hour, Mount Olympus University never truly slept.
The Hermes district awaited him. The buildings glistened under the starlight, their walls painted in rich swathes of gold and deep green, etched with symbols that seemed to shift like living ink under the lanterns¡¯ glow. The architecture was a maze of elegance and cunning¡ªfacades adorned with false windows that watched, balconies with narrow, winding staircases that disappeared into shadow. Secrets lay coiled in every nook and beneath every archway, waiting for the right ears or the right codewords.
Even now, students and messengers wove through the labyrinthine paths, their movements quick and deliberate. Boxes stacked high and heavy shifted under urgent hands; parchment-wrapped messages passed like whispers, exchanged with glances full of sly amusement and silent promises. The walls themselves seemed to hum with anticipation, their surfaces alive with shifting patterns that flickered and faded like a magician¡¯s trick. The scent of ink, sweat, and something metallic hung in the air, sharp and thrilling.
It was as if the district itself had eyes, as if the polished stone and carved wood were watching, waiting, and breathing in the same restless rhythm as Jace. Every corner carried a sense of unspoken mischief, every hidden alley an invitation or a warning. Tonight, Hermes¡¯ domain felt more than alive¡ªit felt sentient, a place balanced on the cusp of revelation.
The invisible golden glow tugged at him, urging him deeper into the organized chaos. The first familiar face he found was Molly, her dark curls framing her face like a storm as she commanded a small group with the confidence of a general. Her voice cut through the din, clear and commanding, but tinged with an excitement Jace could sense even from where he stood. When she spotted him, her eyes lit up, not just with joy but with something more intense, something that shone with a fierce clarity¡ªrelief.
¡°Jace!¡± she called, a grin breaking through the tension that marked her features. Before he could even think to react, Molly flung her arms around him, squeezing tight. The warmth of the embrace was sudden, almost jarring, and when she pulled back, he felt the heat creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks.
Seriously? He chided himself. Facing down the Dark One, fine. But a friendly hug? Instant embarrassment. He cursed himself silently. He reminded himself that he wasn¡¯t a kid anymore. Nineteen Earth years, twenty in Terra Mythica¡¯s adjusted time¡ªhe shouldn¡¯t be reacting like this.
Molly didn¡¯t seem to notice the little internal dance he¡¯d just performed. Her eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered joy, completely oblivious to the way he was trying to will away the blush.
Around her, the chaos surged: trunks piled high and charms glowing faintly as they were loaded into carts that creaked under their weight. The followers of Hecate, now under Hades¡¯ protection, bustled with urgency. They were preparing to transition to the Fields Below, a sanctuary he had fought to secure for them with every hard-won society point. The move was still a week away, yet the air thrummed with the energy of imminent change¡ªa hope so fierce it bordered on desperation.
Jace¡¯s heart clenched at the sight. His gaze caught Alice, half-hidden in the shadow of a bookshelf, her fingers skimming the cracked leather spine of an ancient tome. She looked up, eyes meeting his with a glimmer of something tender, a silent understanding that twisted his insides. It was brief, a flicker that vanished as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough.
Nearby, Dex and Ell lounged on a worn leather couch, Dex with one leg draped lazily over the armrest, his ever-present smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He gestured animatedly, a scroll in one hand as Ell leaned in, eyes bright with amusement, her laugh a light, cascading sound that carried like glass chimes in a breeze. Scrolls and lists were strewn around them, their conversation weaving between hurried plans and sly jokes that brought a brightness to the room.
Marcus stood at the periphery, arms folded across his chest, watching with an expression carved from granite. His dark eyes swept the room, calculating, guarded, until they settled on Jace. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he gave a terse nod¡ªa silent acknowledgment of Jace¡¯s presence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
The room pulsed with movement, the followers of Hecate weaving through the space, packing charms, tomes, and relics with practiced haste. The air hummed with the electric anticipation of a storm yet to break.
¡°Looks like the Scooby Gang is all here,¡± Jace said, his voice steady, though a tremor of something raw and unspoken threaded beneath it. The weight of it all pressed on him¡ªthe friendships, the fragile alliances, the bonds that had become as much a part of him as breath. He drew in the cool night air, the pull of his Affinity thrumming with renewed urgency. The golden thread vibrated with purpose, then stilled, as if satisfied that its task was complete.
¡°We need to talk,¡± he continued, eyes sweeping across the room, meeting each gaze in turn.
The group exchanged glances, a flicker of silent worry sparking between them. Molly was the first to move, her gaze unwavering as she approached a stone statue embedded in the wall¡ªa carved face of an old man, weathered and wise, eyes seeming to watch them with a silent, knowing judgment. Its expression was stern, eyes carved to follow anyone who passed. She leaned in and spoke softly, ¡°Tenebrae et Veritas.¡± When she spoke, her voice carried an otherworldly quality, an echo that seemed to resonate from somewhere deeper than her throat, and the movement of her lips didn¡¯t match the words that filled the air.
For a moment, there was only silence, and then the statue¡¯s eyes glowed with a faint, amber light. Its stone mouth cracked open, voice low and rumbling. ¡°Granted.¡±
With a deep, resonant groan, the ancient fa?ade shifted, stone grinding against stone as a hidden doorway revealed itself. ¡°¡®Darkness and Truth,¡¯¡± she said, her voice carrying that same ethereal resonance as she glanced back at the group. Jace could only assume that hidden passages and secret rooms were more than common in this part of the campus.
Inside, the room was shrouded in blackness at first, a silence so deep it felt tangible. But then the lanterns flared to life, casting a warm, amber glow that sent flickering light across the space. The light stretched and shifted, dancing over shelves crammed with ancient tomes, curling maps, and trinkets that hummed with a strange, latent energy. The scent was a mix of old parchment and ink, tinged with the ghostly aroma of wax.
Molly swept her hand across the doorway, muttering an incantation under her breath. The room trembled, the door shifting into place with a deep, resonant thud as sigils glowed briefly along its edges, sealing them in. The warm, rhythmic pulse of protective magic settled into the walls, a silent guardian.
The others found their places around the room, eyes unwavering as they focused on Jace. He stood at the center, the pull of their collective attention pressing down on him like cold steel. Thoughts surged and crashed behind his eyes, chaotic and vivid.
¡°There¡¯s something I need to tell you,¡± Jace said, his voice rough, every word emerging like shards of glass. It was more than a statement; it was a ripple, breaking the stillness and unfurling the truth he¡¯d buried so deep it felt entwined with his bones. ¡°Everything.¡±
The room stilled, the word echoing like a struck chord, carrying with it a promise and a threat, a confession and a plea. He met their eyes, one by one. Molly¡¯s, bright with hope and determination. Marcus¡¯s, wary and hard, like tempered steel. Alice¡¯s, soft but shadowed, concern beneath her composed surface.
Ell¡¯s eyes shimmered with a mix of curiosity and defiance, her lips pressed into a determined line. Dex, on the other hand, wore a lopsided grin that didn¡¯t quite mask the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a grin that said he was ready for anything but expecting the worst.
The lantern flames guttered, shadows pooling like ink as Jace¡¯s voice wove through the room. He spoke of everything that had led him there, memories that clung like smoke, curling and binding, of places he had seen¡ªvisions that defied reason, twisted facsimiles of reality fractured like shattered glass. He told them of the golden thread that wrapped around him, tugging him forward, of his new Affinity.
Jace took a breath, deeper this time, and told them more. He spoke of the streets he had grown up on, the lean, dangerous years that had forged him. It was a story most couldn¡¯t fathom at Mount Olympus University, where bloodlines and legacy were as common as breath. He spoke of Alex, his brother, and the night he¡¯d taken a device that wasn¡¯t meant for him and forced his way into the university¡¯s world.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Finally, he spoke of that night, the encounter with the dark one in the depths of his mind. The words came haltingly at first, each one a jagged shard of memory. Alice¡¯s hand found his shoulder, her touch light and trembling, a silent offering of strength. Her smile was fleeting, pale as the last glow of a candle, but it was there.
He searched their faces for signs of betrayal, disgust, anything that would confirm his fear. But all he found was quiet, listening eyes.
He told them about the dark one, though not the darkest truth¡ªhe couldn¡¯t tell them that he was the dark one¡¯s son. That confession stuck in his throat, bitter and impossible. He was already brushing the edges of belief; to say more would shatter it. He spoke of his Affinity and the way it shaped his perception, pulling back the illusion of a digital game to reveal a reality far more complex and terrifying. His voice cracked with the recounting of the In Between, and the warning Alex had given him, words soaked in dread.
They listened, absorbing it all, the silence between them heavy and brimming. Jace gave them everything he could, every splinter of truth that cut him from the inside out.
The room seemed to exhale, settling into a tense silence that wrapped around them like a shroud. The flickering lanterns cast their glow in uneven strokes, shadows stretching across the shelves laden with relics, books, and strange, glinting curiosities. Dust motes swirled lazily in the golden light, as if time itself had slowed to listen. Jace felt the weight of their stares, their collective breath held in anticipation, their emotions woven together in the quiet¡ªa mix of disbelief, curiosity, and something harder to name, a hesitant kind of trust.
Dex broke the silence first, a smirk pulling at his lips. ¡°So, Jason¡ you chose Jace as your secret identity? Jace? Didn¡¯t want to pick something a little less like, you know, Jason?¡± His voice held a lilt of humor that cracked the tension.
Ell elbowed him lightly, the gesture playful and accompanied by a faint grin she couldn¡¯t quite suppress. ¡°That¡¯s what you got out of all that?¡±
¡°So, you guys believe me?¡± Jace asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the question trembling in the space between them.
Molly¡¯s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ¡°We believe that you saw what you saw. Stranger things have happened. And with the logout feature gone and death looking more and more permanent¡ well, anything is possible.¡±
Alice nodded, her brow furrowed. ¡°It makes a strange kind of sense, but still... why go to such extremes? What¡¯s the endgame here? And why would Excelsior¡ªJohn Rearden himself¡ªgo through all this song and dance? He¡¯d have to be in on it, wouldn¡¯t he? He must know.¡±
¡°Unless that¡¯s why he disappeared. He knew too much? I always suspected some massive conspiracy,¡± Dex said, his eyes narrowing. ¡°Rearden¡¯s always been shifty. My dad used to say he was a genius, way, way ahead of his time. It could explain where he got all that technology.¡° He glanced around, eyes darting conspiratorially.
Marcus scoffed, the sound cutting through the room like a blade. ¡°Are we really taking this seriously? Conspiracies, other dimensions¡ªand what next, aliens? This is ridiculous.¡± He met their incredulous looks with a defiant shrug, then sighed, conceding with a rough grunt. ¡°Fine, believe what you want. But let me tell you something¡ªmy dad worked with Rearden too, and he wasn¡¯t some misunderstood genius. He was a con artist. Always disappearing, leaving my father to clean up the mess. If you ask me, he was scavenging old tech, probably illegal stuff. Working with AI.¡±
He paused, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. ¡°It¡¯s not aliens or otherworldly powers; it¡¯s just him being slicker and slimier than everyone else. We lost most of our advanced tech in the war, and who¡¯s to say this isn¡¯t all just some hidden system he found? And, of course, I¡¯m stuck here with you all. The son of the lawyer who got all of Rearden¡¯s bills passed¡ªwho got the Technopurge put in check. Who covered up for his schemes. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if this was some mass kidnapping scheme with me as the target.¡±
Silence hung heavy in the room as they all stared at him, their expressions shifting from confusion to disbelief. It was clear¡ªthis time, Marcus sounded like the crazy one.
¡°Okay, fine,¡± he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°That sounds crazy too.¡±
A collective nod passed through the group.
Alice broke the silence, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. ¡°Listen, we can¡¯t rule anything out right now.¡± The others exchanged glances and nodded, the tension thick in the air, a silent agreement settling over them.
Ell leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. ¡°I¡¯m more curious about how you got in without scrambling your brain. The Devices are tamper-proof.¡±
Jace swallowed hard, memories of that night clawing at him. ¡°I thought it would fry me. But something overrode the system and let me through.¡±
Ell looked thoughtful. ¡°Now that is odd.¡±
¡°So, you all believe me? You don¡¯t think I¡¯m crazy?¡± Jace¡¯s gaze swept over them, searching for doubt.
Molly¡¯s expression softened. ¡°No crazier than the rest of us,¡± she said, a wry smile on her lips.
Alice nodded, silent support in her eyes.
Marcus rolled his eyes but said nothing, the fight gone out of him.
Dex clapped his hands, the sound startling in the hushed room. ¡°Beam me up, Scotty,¡± he quipped, raising an eyebrow.
Jace¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You know I didn¡¯t say anything about aliens, right?¡±
¡°Yeah, but it¡¯s cooler to think of it that way. Besides, technically, if this is another world, then we¡¯re the aliens.¡± He raised his hands, fingers wiggling like antennae, shooting Ell and Alice a playful glance.
Marcus¡¯s jaw tightened, but a reluctant grin threatened at the corners of his mouth. ¡°In all this nonsense¡¡± he started, eyes hardening. ¡°I mean, in this totally plausible, very likely story of Jace¡¯s¡ªI mean Jason¡¯s.¡±
¡°Better stick with Jace, in public,¡± Jace murmured.
¡°Right. Even if I believe you, what then? We¡¯re supposed to help you reach the top of the Winter Games? Beat the tower? It¡¯s impossible, never been done, especially not by a Traveler.¡±
Dex frown as he nodded. ¡°I really hate to say it, but¡ he¡¯s right. Even if you made it to the top, the last levels are barred from us. Travelers can¡¯t cross them¡ªsomething about a safety mechanism built into the system. The Games are a ranking system,¡± Dex explained, ¡°with prestige and rewards based on how high you climb. Only those at Silver Rank or below are allowed to enter. No Traveler has ever beaten it. Travelers who reach levels near the twenty cap gain elite status, almost like royalty here in Mythica. My dad always said he blew his one chance back in the day. He¡¯d go on and on about how important the Games were, how they could change everything.¡±
¡°Mine too,¡± Marcus said. ¡°Except my dad actually made it to twenty.¡± He glanced at Dex with a smile that was more menace than joy. ¡°I¡¯ve been trained for this since I was a kid, drilled on every detail. At least, every detail that you can.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± Jason asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
¡°The Games change every year, and they¡¯re different for everyone who enters,¡± Alice added, earning an appreciative nod from Marcus.
¡°Exactly,¡± Marcus continued. ¡°I probably know the Games better than most, my father was obsessed. There are ten floors and the one thing never changes: the eight floor is the cap for Travelers. Almost no one even reaches it, let alone gets past.¡±
Alice¡¯s voice was a whisper, delicate and fierce. ¡°That¡¯s only the first impossible thing.¡±
Ell snorted. ¡°Right, we¡¯re supposed to track down Rita Nutkins¡¯ Book of Prophecies? We¡¯ve already searched everywhere, remember? All we¡¯ve managed to find are fragments and quotes scattered through other texts. Honestly, I¡¯m starting to think it¡¯s just an inside joke among the other authors.¡±
Dex spread his hands, a grin splitting his face. ¡°Two impossible things. That¡¯s not so bad. We¡¯ve faced worse.¡±
Molly¡¯s voice cut through the chatter, soft and otherworldly. ¡°Jace, I believe you. This universe is full of unimaginable things. I¡¯ve seen them, things that have no place in any world.¡± Her eyes darkened, a secret surfacing. ¡°I¡¯ve¡ been visited.¡±
¡°By what?¡± Jace asked.
¡°Spirits.¡±
Marcus scoffed. ¡°We¡¯ve all seen spirits here. That doesn¡¯t prove anything.¡±
¡°No,¡± Molly said, her voice steady. ¡°Spirits from back home. My grandmother¡ she was very sick when I left. She visited me when she died.¡±
A heavy silence followed, the air thickening as they all exchanged glances. Marcus¡¯s skepticism faltered, confusion and an uneasy respect warring on his face.
Alice¡¯s eyes shone with quiet empathy. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Molly.¡±
Molly¡¯s smile was small, resolute. ¡°It¡¯s okay. She¡¯s in a better place now, somewhere in Terra Mythica. Bodies can¡¯t cross worlds easily, but souls¡ they can slip through the cracks.¡±
The silence held, but this time it was not heavy with doubt. It hummed with a shared understanding, fragile but unyielding.
Alice broke the charged silence, clearing her throat. ¡°Guys, what¡¯s really crazy is that I was actually just passing through to borrow a book I knew Molly had.¡± She held up a thick, weathered tome, its dark leather cover cracked with age and etched with gilded symbols that shimmered faintly in the lantern light. ¡°It¡¯s on the origins of magical histories in Mythica. And it covers the Winter Games.¡±
A murmur of interest rippled through the group as Alice placed the book down with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the quiet room. They all leaned in, faces lit with the anticipation of discovery. Jace¡¯s eyes traced the worn title, fingers itching to touch the pages that might hold the answers they desperately needed.
Alice flipped through the book with practiced precision until she found the section she wanted. She spread the tome open to a large, detailed map, the paper thick and crackling under her touch. The map was painted in deep, rich colors¡ªblues, silvers, and greens¡ªmarked with swirling lines of ancient runes that seemed to shimmer as the lanterns caught them.
¡°Supposedly, long ago,¡± Alice began, her voice low and steady, ¡°this world was formed from shards of the original Prismata, the filter of aether and energy that flows through the universe.¡± Her finger traced a line across the map, landing on a spot marked with a dark blue symbol. ¡°There are said to be deposits of these original World Shards hidden throughout the land, each one holding immense power. This one here, under the Winter Games, is a piece of the original Sapphire Shard¡ªMind, Illusions, Intelligence.¡±
Dex let out a low whistle, eyes narrowing.
Ell glanced at him before leaning closer, her gaze sharp and focused. ¡°You¡¯d think someone would have mined them,¡± she said.
¡°These deposits are highly illegal to mine and nearly impossible,¡± Alice continued, her expression growing serious. ¡°Even reaching them would require the power of a near-Transcendent Speaker. But this World Shard,¡± she tapped the map again, ¡°is what fuels the Games, granting them their ability to shift and change for every person who enters.¡±
Molly¡¯s eyes widened as she leaned forward, the lantern light catching in the dark coils of her hair. ¡°And the kingdom built around it?¡±
Alice nodded, flipping to an illustration of towering battlements and deep, shadowed forests. ¡°This was once part of Roandia, a kingdom that stretched across the land before it was shattered by the Dark One¡¯s campaign. Here,¡± she pointed to a jagged border on the map, a line that looked like a scar, ¡°is where they managed to push back his forces, creating this last stronghold. It¡¯s fortified, with protections meant to keep his armies at bay, a massive barrier that divides his territory from the Games.¡±
Alice nodded, flipping to an illustration of towering battlements and deep, shadowed forests. ¡°This was once part of Roandia, a kingdom that stretched far and wide before it was shattered by the Dark One¡¯s campaign. And here,¡± she pointed to the jagged line on the map, a scar that divided the land, ¡°they built an enormous wall¡ªa barrier of magic that holds his forces back, fortified with ancient protections.¡±
Marcus¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied the map, a glimmer of awe breaking through his usual hardened expression. ¡°A border war,¡± he muttered. ¡°This entire region has held him off for centuries.¡±
Jace felt a chill coil around his spine, a visceral reaction he fought to keep hidden. This barrier was all that separated him from the place he now knew he was tied to in ways the others couldn¡¯t imagine. The thought of being so close to the Dark One¡¯s domain made his pulse quicken, a mixture of dread and something darker, something he didn¡¯t want to name.
¡°It makes sense,¡± Ell added, her voice thoughtful, ¡°why there¡¯s been so much debate about even having the Games at all. With the Dark One¡¯s power growing, is it truly safe to hold them so close to his territory?¡±
Jace stared at the map, a slow realization unfurling within him like the first glimmer of dawn. The sapphire shard, the ever-shifting Games, the ancient battleground¡ªit all connected in ways he couldn¡¯t fully grasp yet. But he could feel it: something here held the answers he needed, a key hidden within the threads of history, waiting to unlock the destiny that lay ahead.
¡°But that¡¯s not even the most interesting part about this book,¡± Alice said, her eyes gleaming. ¡°Look at the name under the illustrations. The artist who drew them.¡±
They leaned in, squinting to make out the delicate scarlet ink scrawled at the bottom edge of the page. There, in tiny, precise script, were two words: Rita Nutkins. Her name was inscribed beneath each illustration throughout the book.
Silence fell again, but this time it thrummed with the pulse of revelation.
Ell broke it with a grin. ¡°Alright, so what¡¯s next, Space Man?¡±
Jace looked at each of them, his resolve hardening. ¡°We get ready for the Games. And we find that book.¡±
The silence was alive, pressing down on them until the air turned leaden in their lungs. Jace held their gaze, searching for something¡ªacceptance, doubt, resolve¡ªanything to reveal where they stood. Fear, anger, confusion, determination; each emotion flickered across their faces, caught in the trembling amber light.
Dex¡¯s grin came quick, an instinctive mask that didn¡¯t reach his eyes, where tension lay like a coiled spring. ¡°Hell yeah,¡± he said, his voice steady but betraying the faintest quiver, a ripple of fear threading through it. Jace heard it as clearly as a heartbeat.
Ell rolled her eyes, giving Dex a playful punch on the arm. ¡°This is serious, Dex,¡± she muttered, though the warmth in her voice softened the reprimand. Jace¡¯s chest tightened as realization sank in¡ªthey were here. Despite everything, they were still here, with him, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
Ell stepped forward, shoulders squared, eyes sharp and watchful. ¡°We need a plan.¡±
Jace met her gaze and nodded, a small, shuddering breath easing the tension in his chest.
Alice moved closer, her fingers brushed his, a touch so light it could have been imagined, but it anchored him nonetheless. ¡°We¡¯re with you, Jace,¡± she said, her voice gentle but unyielding, a pledge carried across the room. ¡°All of us. No matter what.¡±
Jace swallowed hard, the tightness in his throat loosening as he looked around. Faces worn by battle and fear, but alive with resolve. Molly, fierce and unyielding; Dex, grinning through his nerves; Ell, eyes bright with mischief and loyalty; Marcus, reluctantly nodding, his jaw set.
¡°Why not?¡± Marcus added, the corners of his mouth twitching in the barest hint of a smile. It was more than Jace had expected.
¡°Okay,¡± Jace said, his voice stronger now, steadier. The tremor had gone, replaced by the steel edge of resolve. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡±
As they talked, the room filled with the rhythm of their voices, a chorus of ideas and arguments woven with sharp hope and the dull thud of fear. Jace felt the golden thread within him pulse, a gentle reminder of why they were here, what they were fighting for. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.
The night unfurled around them, hours trickling away like grains of sand slipping through an unseen hourglass. Outside, stars burned fiercely in the velvet sky. Somewhere in the deep darkness beyond the walls, something stirred, a shift in the quiet. Jace felt it in his marrow, a certainty as ancient as the constellations above: this was only the beginning.
He was quickly pulled from his thoughts as a loud voice boomed through the station, summoning all new students. Jace reluctantly left the book, shop, and now frowning shopkeeper, and joined the gathering crowd, waiting for further instructions.
Chapter Six: Delegating Duties
Chapter Six: Delegating Duties
Jace spent the next two days neck-deep in construction and enchantments, squeezing in moments to replenish his dwindling stock of potions, all while guiding Hecate''s followers through the organized chaos of the ever-expanding Fields Below. An impressive fifty thousand Society Points had poured in from recent victories and Hecate''s alliance, and Jace was determined to make every one count. He worked tirelessly, weaving Hecate¡¯s new territory into the dark, labyrinthine expanse of Hades'' domain, crafting an arcane addition that seemed both seamless and alive with strange energy. Hours blurred together as Jace poured over the endless menus, weaving magic and Society Points into the very fabric of the Fields Below. The space transformed before his eyes, each addition bringing a new layer of mystical allure and power that felt like more than mere upgrades¡ªthey were the very essence of Hecate and Hades brought to life.
There were the usual upgrades¡ªexpanded dorms to house Hecate''s followers, enhanced utilities, and additional library space. They hadn¡¯t brought much from their previous society, just what they could carry¡ªmostly items, ingredients, and scrolls¡ªwhich they quickly integrated into the alchemy labs and library shelves.
The new halls glimmered with an eerie beauty. Midnight-blue stones lined with delicate veins of silver pulsed faintly under dim torchlight. Each step into Hecate''s newly claimed sanctuary felt like descending into an ancient, secretive world. Twisting symbols etched into the stone flickered with an almost playful violet light. Low archways opened into hidden alcoves. Narrow corridors led to spacious chambers filled with rows of polished tables covered in spell components, musty tomes, and herbs scavenged from the farthest reaches of Terra Mythica. It was the sort of place that screamed, "Don''t touch anything unless you want to grow an extra limb."
As the upgrades settled, new options flickered to life, revealing Hecate-specific enhancements. Each potential upgrade seemed tailored to her magic, beckoning with new possibilities.
The first new addition, dubbed the Veilfire Lanterns, transformed the hallways into ethereal passages. These enchanted lanterns lined the corridors, casting a shifting glow that flowed from deep violet to silvery starlight, as if channeling light from distant stars. Each lantern held a flicker of moonfire, its soft hum resonating with stored energy that could be drawn upon in passing, giving members a gentle boost in magical regeneration.
The air was filled with the heady scent of wild herbs¡ªsage, lavender, and faint traces of night jasmine¡ªand a subtle metallic tang of raw arcane energy. The effect was haunting, a fusion of dark elegance and revitalizing power.
Further into Hecate¡¯s Wing, he established the Sanctum of Shadows¡ªa chamber hidden behind a wall of ivy-covered stone. Inside, a circular pool lay at its center, filled with water so still it looked like polished glass, waiting for secrets to be spilled¡ªor maybe keeping some to themselves. Hecate¡¯s sigil lay at the pool¡¯s bottom, a threefold spiral with arms etched in delicate glyphs¡ªmoon phases, keys, and torches¡ªall converging on a central crescent moon encircled by stars. It glowed with a soft violet light, casting pins of lights that shimmered like an endless night sky across the dark walls.
Those who entered found their thoughts sharpened, memories clarified, and spells refined, the waters granting wisdom to those brave enough to seek it. Society members who spent time here gained bonuses to perception and an enhanced ability to recall spells and information, a small but invaluable edge in the ever-evolving world.
Finally, Jace installed the Scroll of Echoes¡ªa mystical interface for direct communication. Mounted along the main hall¡¯s wall, the Scroll allowed him and future leaders to broadcast messages to every member, as well as provide real-time status updates on their health and rank. Words shimmered in liquid silver across its surface, and with a faint hum, each message would appear on every member¡¯s HUD. It was more than just a tool¡ªit was a lifeline for coordination, especially in emergencies, and Jace could already picture the edge it would give them in the trials ahead.
Jace took a step back, admiring the seamless blend of dark enchantment and elegant mysticism they¡¯d built together¡ªa sanctuary for his allies, and a force to be reckoned with.
A hum of energy vibrated throughout the Fields Below, something new and powerful weaving itself into the air, resonating through the stone walls and torches like a low, thrilling drumbeat. Jace felt it thrum beneath his feet, a pulse of magic both raw and refined, marking an undeniable shift.
Ding!
Congratulations!
Society of Hades has reached Silver One.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
A ripple of silver light shot out, tracing along the walls in an intricate web, illuminating every corner and crack. Just as the glow began to fade, a prompt appeared, hovering in front of him in bold, gleaming letters, and a flood of new options scrolled across his HUD.
***
Society Interface is now available via your Traveler Handbook. To access simply¡
***
He focused on the blinking icon, mentally activating it, and the Society Interface flared to life, pinging with a cascade of updates. Fresh options blinked open before him, an entire hidden trove unlocked now that they¡¯d finally reached silver-tier. Each new feature felt like a reward hard-earned, a new layer of power waiting for him to explore. Jace could feel the shift, almost like a heartbeat moving through the halls. It was the kind of thing you couldn''t miss.
The first addition had Jace¡¯s full attention: a shop portal, direct access to Hades'' allied stores. He snagged it immediately. Only one tier unlocked, but it was enough to get started. He placed the archway near the main Society Interface, positioned just off the main path where Hades¡¯ and Hecate¡¯s wings converged.
Jace stepped up to the portal, watching the arch shimmer with a faint, flickering glow as it tried to connect. For a second, he caught a glimpse of shelves, shadowed figures bustling between aisles, the dim gleam of polished artifacts under candlelight. Then it stuttered, the vision collapsing as the portal turned solid again. He smirked; a little hiccup didn¡¯t change the potential here. No more scavenging for rare components or tracking down potions by the dozen¡ªsoon, supplies and coveted relics would be just a step away.
For now, the portal menu showed only a few grayed-out shops. He couldn¡¯t tell if they were temporarily closed, unavailable, or perhaps locked behind higher society levels. As always, there was more to learn, each upgrade peeling back another layer of potential. Running a Society was starting to look like a full-time job¡ªa job that needed a small army to manage right. When it was just him, he¡¯d barely kept up with the basics, and now¡ he was drowning in options.
He could now summon a visible interface anytime, anywhere, toggling between a private mode just for his eyes or a shared display others could see. It gave him full access to every feature and piece of data in the Society¡ªa brilliant tool, really, and one that set his mind racing with possibilities.
He pulled up the member interface and located Molly''s profile. With a tap, a faint, glowing line appeared, stretching out before him like a spectral compass needle pointing the way through the ever-expanding maze of the Fields Below. Thankfully, she wasn''t too far¡ªthe Fields seemed to sprawl more each day, corridors branching into new chambers that twisted and turned in on themselves.
Following the luminescent guide, he wound through shadowed passages and under archways etched with ancient symbols. The air was cool, tinged with the scent of sage and something darker, more elusive. He turned a corner and spotted Molly standing atop a small ladder, adjusting a row of softly glowing Veilfire Lanterns; violet and silver dancing over the stone walls. Each flicker seemed to breathe life into the carvings and reliefs, the shadows playing tricks on the eyes. Molly reached up, her fingers deftly repositioning one of the lanterns, and the light washed over her, illuminating the focused determination on her face.
Her lips moved in a way that didn¡¯t quite sync with the words she murmured¡ªmaybe to herself, or maybe to someone only she could see. Jace stretched his senses, feeling the faint energy of wandering spirits circling her, drawn like moths to a flame. She always had that vibe¡ªone foot in this world, and the other somewhere you wouldn¡¯t want to visit after dark.
"Molly," Jace called out, catching her attention. She turned to Jace, fixing him with a blank, almost unsettlingly pleasant gaze.
¡°Want a promotion?¡± Jace asked, flashing a grin that was all mischief.
Molly arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a skeptical look. ¡°Oh no. Don¡¯t even think about pinning this on me. I¡¯ve already got enough on my plate as a Faculty Aide.¡±
Jace let out a laugh, a real one that softened his usual brooding edge. ¡°Come on, Molly. You¡¯ve seen how things are lately¡ªall these new members, the chaos. I need help, and not just from anyone. You¡¯ve got the whole Hecate vibe down.¡±
She narrowed her eyes, a glint of suspicion mixing with something warmer. ¡°And what exactly do I get out of it, besides a fancy title and a ton of extra headaches?¡±
¡°That¡¯s pretty much it,¡± Jace admitted with a shrug, though his grin widened. ¡°But¡ you¡¯d also get silver-tier privileges. Full access to the good stuff on the menu.¡± He gestured to the glowing interface floating in the air and made it publicly visible. ¡°Plus, you could allocate Society Points, choose upgrades, send society-wide messages. You¡¯d be the boss of Hecate¡¯s corner. And don¡¯t act like you wouldn¡¯t secretly love that.¡±
Her gaze flickered to the menu, and the hint of a sly smile tugged at her lips. He could see her weighing the options. ¡°Fine. But I want my own team¡ªI¡¯m not babysitting Hecate¡¯s whole crew solo.¡±
¡°Deal!¡± Jace said, extending his hand. She clasped it, her grip firm and unwavering. He initiated the prompt to upgrade her status and permissions. Molly glanced at the notification, gave a quick nod, and accepted it without hesitation.
¡°Oh, one more thing,¡± Jace added, trying to keep his tone casual. ¡°You¡¯d be helping out on the Hades side, too. Just a little¡ you know, management stuff.¡±
¡°What?¡± Molly¡¯s eyes widened as she processed. ¡°Are you telling me¡ª¡±
¡°Yep, you¡¯re now officially Society Second.¡± He grinned wider, already taking a step back.
¡°Jace!¡± Her voice shot through the halls, layered with shock and outrage.
¡°Sorry, can¡¯t hear you!¡± he called, already turning on his heel and bolting down the corridor, her indignant yell chasing after him.
"You little¡!" was the last thing he heard as he rounded the corner.
Once he was out of sight, Jace slowed, eyes catching on a new section of the menu¡ªa column of golden upgrades, each one locked tight behind gold rank. But he could see it now: a fortified inner sanctum, hidden portals, resources that could turn the Fields Below into something unstoppable.
He exhaled, the seed of a plan already taking root. First, he¡¯d need to push the Society to the next level. Winter classes were coming, and with them, the challenges¡ªand chances¡ªhe needed to make this happen.
Chapter Seven: Inken Trials
Chapter Seven: Inken Trials
The amphitheater curved against the rugged mountainside, a crescent of ancient stone defying gravity with its elegant, spiraling tiers. Each level rose like a deliberate challenge to nature itself, a testament to craft honed by ambition as raw and untamed as the air in the Ares District of Olympus University. The atmosphere thrummed with the memories of past clashes and the unspoken promise of battles yet to come, every breath thick with the metallic tang of anticipation.
Towering trees framed the arena, their sprawling branches clawing at the sky like the gnarled fingers of slumbering giants. Sunlight fractured against them, spilling in jagged, restless patterns across the smooth stone, as if even the light hesitated¡ªuncertain, cautious¡ªbefore it dared to touch this place.
Over a thousand students filled the seats, a restless tide of anticipation. The scrape of a shoe, the creak of stone, each sound punctuated the silence but quickly dissipated. A fragile stillness hung over them¡ªpoised, expectant. After a beat, uneasy murmurs began, voices joining in a growing hum, conversations awkward and incomplete.
Jace''s pulse thrummed in his ears. Unease coiled in his chest, not sharp, but insistent¡ªa strength rising within, uncertainty and determination twisting together. The tension around him fed that energy, his resolve swelling like a tide just before the break.
At the amphitheater¡¯s center stood Brutus, a hulking figure in armor dark as iron forged from some infernal depth. His chest was a siege engine barely contained, a strange device strapped across his back¡ªits purpose unreadable. A single, glaring cyclopean eye marked his forehead, sweeping over the crowd with grim precision. Brutus exuded raw power¡ªa storm on the edge of release. His smirk, slight but sharp, was the smirk of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.
The air shifted, that subtle, uncanny stillness when something forces its way into being. And then Dranice Thorne simply was. One moment he wasn¡¯t there, and the next he stood beside Brutus, as if reality had shrugged and slipped him into place. His robes shimmered¡ªdeep purple, like starlight caught in velvet. Tall and willowy, his white beard flowed down in a cascade, framing a face carved sharp as weathered stone. He looked every bit the classic wizard, but his eyes held a ruthless glint. When he raised one long-fingered hand, the murmurs ceased¡ªthe crowd silenced like a candle snuffed by pinched fingers.
Dranice let the silence stretch, his lips curving into a cat¡¯s smile. ¡°Welcome, aspiring legends,¡± he said, voice like silk over bladed steel. ¡°Welcome to our most honored and vital tradition¡ªthe Winter Games.¡±
He paused, his gaze raking over the students, lingering on those whose fear betrayed them, on the few whose defiance dared to flicker through. ¡°I am the Master of Games. The Trials ahead are no stroll in the park. They are designed to test you, to break you¡ªto see if you are stone or tin.¡± His gaze shifted, eyes narrowing, daring them to run or step forward.
Jace¡¯s heartbeat thundered against his ribs. The enormity of what lay ahead pressed down on him, but he remained still, that ember of defiance flickering¡ªalive. A promise: he would not turn back, no matter what awaited.
Dranice¡¯s smile widened. He shot Brutus a sidelong glance, amusement flickering in his eyes. ¡°This year¡¯s Games will be unlike any before. The challenges will test you. And, of course, there will be surprises¡ surprises that will kill you if you¡¯re not careful.¡±
Brutus snorted, a sound like grinding stone, but Dranice ignored him and pressed on. ¡°Any questions?¡±
The amphitheater stayed silent. He hadn¡¯t told them anything¡ªof course there were questions. A slender hand rose beside Jace. Alice.
¡°Miss Candor, yes?¡± Brutus¡¯s gravelly voice softened at the edges.
Alice spoke with confidence. ¡°How do the Games work? What are the rules?¡±
Jace¡¯s gaze lingered on her, the shift in her so stark it almost took him by surprise. Where had the shy, uncertain girl gone, the one he''d met just months ago? In her place stood a woman, poised and self-assured, her strength as undeniable as the stone beneath his feet.
But then again, he didn''t need to wonder. They had all changed, each of them ground down, polished like stones in a mill, shaped by forces they hadn¡¯t seen coming. Life had a way of doing that, he supposed.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, curiosity awakening. Dranice clapped his hands sharply¡ªthe sound cracked like a whip, slicing the noise in two.
¡°You enter the Tower with only what you have Soul Bound,¡± Brutus said, his tone firm and unyielding. ¡°That includes your Shards, Traveler¡¯s Handbook, User Interface Stone, and so on. No other weapons. No armor. The Tower will provide all you need inside. Additionally, there will be absolutely no divine assistance¡ªno gods stepping in to save you or pull you out at the last minute. Once your name is enscribed on the Tower as an Entrant, you will lose all connection with your gods until the all contestants have exited the tower, or someone beats it. Which¡ has never been done. Inside the Tower, you will face things that no one can truly preapre you for. It will be the trust form of combat. If you have the wit to use your resources, good. But if you don¡¯t¡ well, no one will mourn your failure. Failure is simply more material for the Wall of Lost Names.¡±
Alice¡¯s hand rose again, followed by the rest of her, swift and unhesitating.
¡°Yes?¡± Dranice called on her, his voice laced with thinly veiled annoyance.
¡°The Tower,¡± Alice began. ¡°What else can you tell us about it? Did you¡?¡±
¡°Attempt the Climb?¡± Dranice finished for her, his lips curling into a faint, almost self-satisfied smile tinged with nostalgia. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m very proud to say I made it to the fourth floor before turning back. A very respectable floor, I might add.¡±
¡°But my experience won¡¯t help you. They call it the Wandering Spire for a reason. Some call it the Mazeheart. A few, the Tower of Eyes. Pick your poison, but the truth¡¯s the same¡ªit¡¯s alive, it¡¯s watching, and it¡¯s more cunning than any of us. Always. No two Climbs are ever alike. Ten floors, or so we believe. No one has ever made it past nine, and not a single Traveler has breached the eighth floor.¡±
He paused, his gaze sweeping the students. ¡°Now, before you ask, Miss Candor, let me make this clear¡ªthese aren¡¯t our rules. They¡¯re the Tower¡¯s. It decides who gets to pass, and it shapes the challenges however it damn well pleases. The rhyme, the reason¡ªthose are the Tower¡¯s secrets, and it keeps them to itself. I can only tell you what the Tower has kept consistent, per reports. Recording crystals do not work in there, so there has only been verbal recountings.¡±
Dranice¡¯s voice dropped, becoming softer, almost reverent.
¡°We know that there are ten floors, because the Tower shows each of us our progress through the Climb. We know that there is a time dilation, allowing months to pass in the tower in the span of hours. A Climb is no brief excursion. And we know that the tower refuses to accept anyone that has reached Gold Rank. Only those silver and below are permitted to enter, and you get one shot¡ªno second tries. It lets you in once, and that¡¯s it. For those who survive there are rewards¡ªfar beyond gold, far beyond mere trophies,¡± Dranice said, his voice carrying the weight of promise and peril. ¡°Artifacts of untold power. Prestige among the elite. Prizes so rare, so incomprehensible, they could only come from forces beyond mortal understanding¡ªthe kind that can alter destinies.¡±
He wove temptation into every word. ¡°Some say the top holds the gift of True Immortality. Others whisper of answers to the Secret Questions of the Universe. The highest Floors, even for Travelers, bring status, fame, and glory.¡± His gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°But such rewards are as much a curse as they are a blessing.¡±
The hum of the crowd swelled as students broke into hushed, private exchanges, their voices rising and falling in a discordant rhythm. The noise grew, a restless tide of murmurs¡ªuntil Brutus cut through it with a bark sharp enough to cleave stone.
¡°This is not a field trip,¡± he growled, his voice a low thunder, rumbling with the menace of an avalanche on the verge of breaking loose. ¡°The Southeastern Stronghold sits on the doorstep of the embodiment of evil. And in case any of you geniuses haven''t noticed, that¡¯s exactly where you¡¯ll be in two days. So listen up!¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
The silence deepened as the students exchanged glances. Brutus coughed and jerked his head toward the pouch hanging at Dranice¡¯s side.
With a sigh of exasperation, Dranice lifted a small golden orb from the pouch, holding it up for the students to see. The orb was wrapped in intricate gold filigree, swirling around the sphere in delicate patterns that caught the light, casting a soft, warm glow.
¡°Each of you will have this soul-bound before you start the Trials. Use it, and it will teleport you out of the Trial or out of the Tower, immediately. We didn¡¯t have these in my day. Takes some of the fun out of it, if you ask me. But, apparently, faculty has been going soft.¡±
Brutus glared at him, halting his words. His gaze drifted over the crowd, cold and deliberate.
"Now, for those of you not keen on throwing your lives away in the Games, this is your last chance to walk." Brutus¡¯s voice was hard as stone.
The tension grew, thick and stifling, until about forty students broke. They shuffled away, heads low, glancing back as if second-guessing. None of them turned around.
"That''s it?" Brutus shook his head and looked more tired than Jace had ever seen him. "Fine. For the rest of you¡ªlet it be recorded." He reached into his pouch and flung a small scroll into the air. It snapped open, unfurling again and again until it hovered above him, its golden ink shimmering as the names of the remaining students etched themselves onto its surface.
He cleared his throat; the sound of iron knuckle rapping against stone.
"I said it once, and I''ll say it again¡ªthis is a bad idea." His voice cut through the quiet, daring anyone to argue. "Not just because of the respawn issues, though those are a bloody nightmare alone. It''s the location. It''s reckless. Dangerous. And yet, did anyone listen to me?"
His glare pinned Dranice. For a heartbeat, just a sliver of time, the ever-composed figure faltered. A twitch in the jaw, a shift in posture. Brutus caught it and smirked.
"But small blessings of the gods," he continued, voice dripping mockery. "The respawn issue has earned us one new rule for all entrants this year, across all of Mythica. One death¡ªanytime between now and the Tower¡ªand you¡¯re immediately disqualified from the Games."
The crowd erupted, murmurs swelling into a chaotic clamor. Near the back, Jace felt a chill crawl over his skin, sharp as frostbite. He couldn¡¯t understand why anyone would complain about this¡ªknowing what they did about the dangers of dying here, the risk of losing your mind. Who would willingly tempt fate like that? All for what? Fortune? Status? Items? Jace told himself that he probably wouldn¡¯t have bothered with it at all if it weren¡¯t for his brother.
But he was kidding himself. If it was a chance to get ahead in this madness, of course he would have.
Brutus¡¯s eyes scanned the crowd.
"Yeah, yeah, whine all you want, you ungrateful lot..." he growled, his voice cutting like a blade. "Since my objections were conveniently overruled, the Council has agreed to allow me some lenience in the Pre-Trial Selection Process." His eyes took on a feral glint. "Two days. You have two days before you¡¯re transported to the Southeastern Stronghold of Roandia. Two days to prove you¡¯re not a liability¡ªto yourself or anyone else. And I get to decide exactly how to test you."
He reached into his side pouch and pulled out a ball. This one wasn¡¯t glowing, but opaque, a deep, dark green that looked like polished acrylic.
"So, I¡¯ve decided on a Pre-Trial¡ªThe Ink Stain." A few of the students'' eyes went wide, apparently knowing what he was talking about. Jace had never seen anything like it in Mythica, though it reminded him of the paint he played with once as a child in the orphanage. He recalled the way it felt in his fingers¡ªsmooth, thick, and warm. A memory he hadn¡¯t even realized he¡¯d held onto flickered to life, and a bitter, almost wistful smile tugged at his lips, fading as swiftly as it had come.
"Me, versus all of you. If a single drop touches you, your name¡ªgone from the enrollment. But if any of you manage to tag me, I¡¯ll stop." He glanced down at the ball, eyes gleaming with a hidden thrill. "Lucky for me, I¡¯ve prepared quite a batch for myself. Those who actually paid attention in my class, instead of running off to grind ranks, will know how to make it¡ªwhich should be all of you."
Unease rippled through the students, glances shifting nervously. Brutus folded his arms, grin widening as he placed it back in his pouch.
"So enjoy the next two days. If you can."
He turned, as if done, his posture relaxed. Then, without warning, he spun back, pulling out a small ball, this one glowing red¡ªlike a shard of a twisted sunset.
"If I were you," Brutus snarled, dark glee in every word, "I¡¯d start running."
He pulled back and hurled the orb into the crowd. Chaos exploded. The orb burst, spraying molten red dye, sizzling and staining the courtyard. Jace dove, barely avoiding the splash¡ªit hissed as it hit the ground, vivid red spreading wide.
He heard yelps as two students beside him were marked, their names slashed from the list still hovering behind Brutus and Thorne, disqualified before they even had a chance to move.
Jace stumbled forward, adrenalin surging through him, his legs moving on pure reflex. He used Soul Step to clear the area, yanking Alice along with him. Dex and the others had already leapt from the stands, a blur of motion. Marcus ducked behind another student, using their body as a shield from a burst of aether-infused green ink.
"Come back here, you little beasts!" Brutus roared with laughter. He swung the device from his back¡ªa grotesque hybrid of slingshot and cannon, bristling with orbs of every color.
Brutus¡¯s laughter rang out, deep and unrestrained. There was no true malice in it. Jace knew Brutus¡ªbeneath the rough exterior, the gruff demeanor, he was a softie. He¡¯d go to any length to protect those under his charge. This was his way of keeping some of the students safe.
With a swift motion, Brutus pulled another orb¡ªa chilling shade of glacial blue¡ªand hurled it into the sky. It exploded with a deafening crack, releasing a torrential cascade of ink, staining skin and stone in vivid colors. Each burst wove an illusion¡ªcrackling fire, arcing lightning¡ªbending reality harmlessly with each explosion.
Across the kaleidoscopic battlefield, small teams of students held their ground. Spells shimmered as they worked in sync, using aether to scoop up inky puddles and hurl them back at Brutus. He stood at the center, unbothered, a shimmering shield flaring around him, deflecting attacks with ease.
¡°Gonna take more than that, you little welps,¡± he laughed, his voice thickening, an accent creeping in¡ªsomething rough and guttural that Jace only heard when Brutus lost himself in the moment.
Jace, now just out of range, glanced back and thought, He''s certainly enjoying this... maybe a little too much.
Fake lightning tore across the sky, heatless fire roared like an unleashed beast, ink oozing into dark pools that mirrored the madness. Ell stood firm across the way, her hands raised, a shimmering shield deflecting thorny ink vines that screeched as they struck. Behind her, students huddled, wide-eyed. Dex flanked her, his aether glowing as he caught Jace¡¯s gaze. A silent question.
Jace answered with a sharp nod. We¡¯re fine. Go.
Dex grabbed Ell¡¯s arm, leading the students toward safety. Ell hesitated, glancing back, but Jace held her gaze¡ªher hesitation melted. They vanished into the chaos, her shield flickering like a ghost''s light.
Brutus tossed a handful of orbs into the air. They hung suspended for a moment before darting off like predators sensing prey, each honing in on their target. Jace moved on pure instinct, Soul Stepping through the chaos again, pulling Alice with him. Orbs exploded around them, bursts of color and danger. Just as they thought they¡¯d made it clear, they reappeared directly in the path of another attack.
Without hesitation, Alice raised her Sapphire Shard. A brilliant surge of blue light erupted, blasting ink-streaked enemies away. She followed with a swift motion, conjuring a glimmering bubble around them¡ªa barrier of radiant blue, pulsing with energy. Jace¡¯s eyes widened. He hadn¡¯t known the Shard could do that.
The battlefield was a storm of color, lightning, fire, and ink¡ªmagic and madness swirling in every direction.
A wild, raw laugh tore from Jace¡¯s throat. There was something about the false danger, the thrill of pretending to fight for survival when he''d faced the real thing so often. To play¡ªto pretend¡ªhe couldn¡¯t quite explain it, but the tension, the tightness in his chest, drained away as he let the madness of it all wash over him.
Alice laughed too, her voice bright and free, as they ducked behind a wall just as a burst of purple ink splattered across it. In the chaos, Alice stumbled into Jace, both of them tumbling into each other, laughing without care. The courtyard had transformed into a chaotic battlefield¡ªstudents diving, rolling, and laughing as explosions of color burst all around them.
In that moment, everything seemed to freeze. They looked at each other, smiles faltering just for a heartbeat. Her closeness, the smell of her hair, the warmth of her breath, all hit him like a wave, and suddenly, Jace couldn¡¯t tell if his heart was racing from the near escape or from her.
Alice¡¯s gaze locked with his, a knowing glint in her eyes.
¡°Ladies and gentlemen! Men and monsters, the Games have begun!¡± Brutus¡¯s voice rang out, growing louder as he approached.
After a long beat, Alice smiled. "We should probably get out of here."
"Right. Yeah," Jace said, though his voice came out softer. He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than he intended, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. His heart was still racing, not just from the rush coursing through him, but from the way her eyes searched his. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±
They slipped away, untouched by ink but marked by the sheen of adrenaline, and the relentless drum of their hearts.
Jace walked Alice to the entrance of Athena District, his steps slowing as they reached the threshold.
Brutus was nowhere to be seen, but his drones could be anywhere¡ªthey had to remain vigilant.
Jace hesitated, his eyes drawn to her, etching the moment into memory: the way sunlight kissed her skin, casting a tender glow along the soft curve of her cheek; the way her eyes held a depth, like the still surface of a secret lake. Time seemed to stretch, holding them in a fragile, unspoken moment. And then, like a fleeting sigh, it was gone. With a quiet breath and the weight of reluctance in his stride, he turned and made his way back to the Fields Below.
During his walk, he glanced at his notifications and saw the Games Roster was now accessible. Over eighty students had been eliminated already, their names crossed off. Yet Jace and his friends remained, bound tighter than ever by an unspoken connection¡ªa quiet, unshakable thread that wove between them as the world around erupted in chaos and vivid, unrelenting color.
Jace felt an inexplicable happiness, a lightness in his chest that made the world seem a little brighter. Still, there was a faint tug in the back of his mind, a sense that the moment had left something undone, something just within reach¡ªif only he''d reached for it.
Chapter Eight: Underworld Incorporated
Chapter Eight: Underworld Incorporated
Tomorrow. The word hung in Jace¡¯s mind like a blade suspended by a thread, sharp and inevitable. Tonight, though, he lay on his cot, staring at the jagged dance of shadows across the ceiling. The dim glow of his quarters cast everything in muted gray, the only splash of color the faint black smudges staining his fingertips.
Ink, dark and stubborn, clung to his skin¡ªa relic from the journal entry he¡¯d poured himself into. His fingers bore the marks of hasty scribbles, crossed-out lines, and moments of hesitation where the quill had hovered too long over the page.
In a world of vibrant magic, where gods shaped existence with a word and monsters shattered reality on a whim, it was strange that something as mundane as ink could unsettle him. It wasn¡¯t blood. It wasn¡¯t ash. Just ink. Yet the way it streaked his fingers, etched into the grooves of his skin, made him pause. Not because of what it was, but because of what it meant.
The ink was a reminder of the words he¡¯d written¡ªhalf-formed thoughts, desperate questions, and fears he couldn¡¯t quite bring himself to say aloud. Proof that no matter how far he¡¯d come, no matter the power he¡¯d claimed, he was still human. Still fumbling with fragments of understanding, trying to stitch them together into something that made sense.
He pressed his fingers together, smudging the ink further, feeling the slick, tacky texture grind between them. He let out a long, slow breath, as if he could exhale the weight of it all.
The divine notification had come earlier, the sterile ping of the system as unfeeling as a factory bell.
You are requested in the Underworld Offices before the Winter Games departure. Prepare.
Prepare for what? Jace had no idea. Something awful, probably. It usually was.
He sat up, dragging a hand through his hair and shaking off the fog of half-finished thoughts clinging to him like cobwebs. The faint tang of iron and ozone hung in the air, a lingering reminder of the summoning ritual he''d been working on earlier. The room still felt charged, like the echoes of his magic hadn¡¯t quite settled.
He was experimenting¡ªtrying to mold weapons out of aether, shaping them into something tangible, something deadly. It was easier said than done. Ever since he Ranked up to Silver and unlocked Affinities for both Soul and Truth, he¡¯d felt¡ sharper. The power coursing through him came with new insights, sure, but also new frustrations. His abilities listed on the Character Sheet were just the tip of the iceberg, the parts the System acknowledged because he was finally starting to grasp them. The rest? Those he¡¯d have to figure out on his own. Trial and error. Heavy on the error.
He¡¯d figured out something most Travelers didn¡¯t: the System wasn¡¯t some benevolent force handing out powers like candy, or even dishing out EXP. It didn¡¯t grant anything. All it did was measure what was already there, tallying it up and filing it neatly so his mind could make sense of this bizarre new world.
The System didn¡¯t give him power¡ªit just labeled it, organized it, and tried to help him not lose his grip on reality. The System wasn''t the cause, but rather, the effect.
Lately, he¡¯d been focusing on Soul Swords¡ªblades formed from his will, drawn from the aether like molten light. For a few seconds, they felt real in his hands, humming with a power that was almost intoxicating. But they never lasted. The swords would flicker and vanish, draining his reserves faster than he could stabilize them.
The real issue was his aether pool. He wasn¡¯t just burning through it for the swords; a hefty chunk was being siphoned off constantly to fuel his Ring¡ªthe White Raven Familiar. It was still recovering, its essence fractured from the last battle it had, so many years ago, and the only way to nurse it back to full strength was to keep feeding it.
It hurt¡ªboth his pride and his progression¡ªbut it felt worth it.
Still, as he flexed his fingers and felt the telltale tingle of aether sparking beneath his skin, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how much longer he could afford the cost.
He checked its status, the progress bar crawling upward at an infuriatingly slow pace.
89% replenished.
Close, but not close enough.
He checked his inventory, fingers flicking through the menus with the ease of someone who¡¯d done it a thousand times. Each item, neatly cataloged by the System, appeared in glowing rows before him¡ªarmor, weapons, tools, even the odd trinket he wasn¡¯t sure why he¡¯d kept. He scrolled past the heavier sets, shaking his head. Too bulky. Not practical.
Finally, he settled on a suit that struck the right balance: lightweight, reinforced, and versatile enough for both combat and travel¡ªit was something Twig had custom made for him. The material shimmered faintly as he selected it, the System automatically equipping it with a soft hum of aether.
He gave himself a once-over in the mirror. Dark hair, perpetually tousled, framed stormy gray eyes that stared back at him with a weariness he couldn¡¯t quite shake. His face was lean, the kind of leanness born from too many skipped meals and too many nights spent running or fighting. His body told the same story¡ªhardened by necessity, sharpened by survival.
But there was more now. Power thrummed beneath his skin, subtle but undeniable, a spark that hadn¡¯t been there before Terra Mythica. It didn¡¯t erase the scars or the sharp angles of his frame, but it added something else¡ªsomething otherworldly.
Jace adjusted his robe, the black fabric clinging to him like shadow, the faint emblem of the white raven glinting on the back.
¡°Good enough,¡± Jace muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders as the suit adjusted to his frame. He wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d need to face, but he wasn¡¯t about to show up unprepared.
He straightened the moonstone pendant around his neck, letting out a slow, measured breath to steady himself. The Prismata Shard, its soft silver glow pulsing in time with his heartbeat, felt cool against his skin. It wasn¡¯t just jewelry or some flashy bauble. The shard could be worn or absorbed into him, its essence becoming a part of his very being. For now, he preferred to keep it external¡ªsomething tangible to anchor him.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
The pendant was more than a focus; it was a lifeline. A tether to the magic he was still struggling to fully control, a conduit that bridged his raw potential with the reality-bending forces of Terra Mythica. Without it, his power felt like a wild beast, barely leashed. With it? He had a chance to hold the chaos in his hands, to shape it, to wield it.
He checked over his status screen, glances quickly at his progress.
Silver Rank One.
It sounded impressive until you realized how far there was to go. Two Words of Power. That was it. Two Words, two Affinities, barely enough to scrape by in a world crawling with gods and monsters. He¡¯d been practicing, trying to combine them, trying to unlock something greater. Progress came slow.
The Fields Below stretched before him, an endless maze of caverns and tunnels carved into the heart of Mount Olympus University. When Jace had first arrived, this place had been little more than a forgotten corner of the campus, a neglected shrine for a god no one cared to worship anymore.
Now, it was alive.
Jace might¡¯ve been the only official Chosen of Hades, but ever since they¡¯d allowed Hecate¡ªthe goddess of magic¡ªto plant her banner under the same roof, the Fields Below had undergone a transformation that was impossible to ignore.
What had once been little more than a desolate afterthought was now thriving. Hecate¡¯s presence had drawn students like moths to a flame, swelling their ranks into the hundreds. Each newcomer brought their points and ambitions, reshaping the Fields into something both awe-inspiring and distinctly underworldly.
The caverns gleamed with crystals that pulsed faintly, as if the walls themselves had veins of living stone. Sanctuaries bathed in shadow sprouted up, places where whispers seemed to gather like secrets waiting to be uncovered. Then there were the gardens¡ªif you could call them that¡ªglowing softly with an otherworldly light. The plants looked more like something conjured from a fever dream than anything natural, their twisted blooms teetering between beautiful and unsettling.
Hecate¡¯s influence was everywhere. Subtle, but impossible to miss. She had taken the Fields from a forgotten corner of Mount Olympus University to a sprawling, darkly vibrant labyrinth that hummed with life¡ªand, let¡¯s be honest, a fair amount of menace.
Jace couldn¡¯t help but admire her handiwork. He might¡¯ve been Hades¡¯ chosen, but Hecate had turned the Fields into something people wanted to be a part of. If he was being honest, it felt less like he was running the place and more like he was just trying to keep up with her.
Jace moved through the labyrinthine passages of the Underworld, the sound of his boots on stone echoing softly in the dim silence.
Wisps of light and shadow flitted past him¡ªspirits, their forms insubstantial and shimmering, like faint memories of something lost. Hades had always been clear on his disdain for the undead, calling them an affront to the natural order. But spirits? Souls caught in the fragile space between existence and eternity? Those, he welcomed.
Ahead, the faint glow of torchlight marked the entrance to the Underworld Offices, flickering like a neon sign beckoning him into something he wasn¡¯t entirely sure he wanted to deal with. Jace¡¯s dorms, tucked deep beneath Mount Olympus, had a direct path to the offices. Convenient, sure, but stepping into the place was always an exercise in surrealism.
The door creaked open, and he strode into what could only be described as the Underworld¡¯s version of an office building. Rows of cubicles stretched out before him, the gray dividers worn and sagging slightly. Each desk held the relics of bureaucracy: yellowing stacks of parchment, quills that scratched at papers of their own accord, and glowing, ethereal screens displaying arcane symbols that defied translation.
The spirits were everywhere. Some hovered at desks, their translucent forms flickering as they shuffled phantom papers or tapped at ancient keyboards that gave off faint whispers instead of clicks. Others floated through the aisles, carrying stacks of files that never seemed to shrink, their expressions a mix of focus and quiet resignation.
Occasionally, a ghostly figure would pause to tidy up a desk or scribble something on a scroll, their movements precise and deliberate. Whatever tasks they were performing, they did so with purpose¡ªpurpose Jace couldn¡¯t quite make sense of. Maybe they were cataloging souls, balancing ledgers of life and death, or filing complaints about the conditions of the River Styx ferry service.
It was unnervingly mundane for a place that existed between worlds, but it brought an odd kind of order to the chaos. And maybe that¡¯s why Jace didn¡¯t entirely hate it. Here, in the heart of the Underworld, there was structure. A hierarchy. Rules.
The ghosts didn¡¯t speak to him as he passed, their silence a constant hum in the air. But their presence grounded him. They were a reminder that even in the dark, even in the strangest corners of existence, there was a kind of logic. A rhythm.
Up ahead, Jace spotted Jerry, his ghostly form faintly shimmering in the dim light. A small grin tugged at Jace¡¯s lips¡ªit was good to see him. For all the chaos in the Underworld, Jerry had a way of making the place feel a little less heavy.
Jerry¡ªa ghostly figure with more personality than most mortals¡ªwas in the middle of what could only be described as a car-crash-in-slow-motion attempt at flirting with Barbara, the Underworld¡¯s receptionist. Barbara, with her towering beehive hairdo and sharp, cat-eye glasses, had perfected the art of looking unimpressed.
¡°...and, uh, I was thinking, maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?¡± Jerry stammered, his voice oscillating between hopeful and please-stop-this-now panic.
Barbara arched one impeccable eyebrow. Her lips twitched, hovering somewhere between amusement and the kind of exasperation that could peel paint. ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± she said, her tone cooler than a midnight ferry ride across the Styx.
Jerry turned at the sound of Jace¡¯s footsteps, his face lighting up.
¡°Jace! Perfect timing! Been a while, huh?¡± Jerry called out, his translucent form flickering slightly as he jogged to meet him. Falling into step beside Jace, he floated more than walked, keeping pace effortlessly as they headed toward the elevator.
¡°Jerry,¡± Jace said, smirking as he took in the scene. ¡°How¡¯s the love life?¡±
Jerry let out a dry laugh. ¡°You know how office romances go. Got a bit of a Will-They, Won''t-They thing going as always.¡±
Jace just smiled.
Jerry floated backward a few inches, his hands spread wide in a theatrical shrug. ¡°Love is a marathon, not a sprint.¡±
¡°Bit of a treadmill, in your case?¡±
¡°Harsh,¡± Jerry said, grinning faintly. ¡°But fair.¡±
"I''m sorry, I''m just kidding, Jerry. You''ve got this," Jace said, smirking. "She said she¡¯d think about it. That¡¯s progress, right?"
Jerry¡¯s face lit up, his translucent form shimmering faintly. ¡°Yeah, another hundred years or so, I think we might have a real date.¡±
The two of them moved down the dimly lit aisle, passing cubicles where spirits flickered in and out of view. Jace gestured toward one particularly frantic spirit, whose attempts at organizing files were hampered by the fact that they kept slipping through its intangible hands. ¡°Busy day in the afterlife?¡±
Jerry chuckled, the sound hollow and echoing like an empty hallway. ¡°Oh, you¡¯d be surprised. End-of-cycle quotas, reincarnation petitions, complaints from hauntings¡ªit¡¯s all part of the job. And don¡¯t even get me started on the bureaucracy around exorcisms.¡±
¡°Sounds thrilling,¡± Jace said.
¡°Oh, it¡¯s a riot,¡± Jerry said in genuine excitement.
As they reached the end of the aisle, the Underworld Elevator loomed before them. Its black iron doors were intricately carved with glowing sigils, each one pulsing like a heartbeat.
Jace smiled and clapped Jerry on the shoulder out of reflex, only to pause mid-motion when he remembered Jerry was a ghost. He half-expected his hand to pass through¡ªbut it didn¡¯t. Instead, there was resistance, a faint but solid presence. His Soul Affinity flared, a sudden surge of awareness coursing through him, and the realization hit: he could touch ghosts.
¡°Good luck, Casanova.¡±
Jerry saluted, a half-hearted wave of his hand as Jace stepped into the elevator.
¡°Oh! Remember, Jace,¡± Jerry said, his voice echoing faintly as the elevator doors began to slide shut. ¡°The only difference between ordinary and extraordinary is that little extra.¡±
Jace snorted, shaking his head as the doors sealed with a soft thunk, separating them. He leaned back against the cool iron of the elevator and pressed the single button engraved with Hades¡¯ sigil. The doors slid shut with a whisper, sealing him in as the elevator began its smooth, silent descent.
¡°Down we go,¡± Jace muttered, bracing himself for whatever came next.
Girl from Ipanema played softly, and Jace found himself nodding along to the familiar tune.
Chapter Nine: Adventures with Bob
Chapter Nine: Adventures with Bob
The mist parted like something alive, curling away to reveal the ferry cutting through the water with eerie precision. It moved without a sound, no splash, no creak, as though the Styx itself wanted no record of its passage. The boat was small, almost frail-looking, its planks dark and warped, like they¡¯d been dredged up from some long-forgotten shipwreck. Yet it moved with an inevitability that made Jace¡¯s skin crawl.
Jace¡¯s shoes crunched against the rocky shore as he stepped closer, watching the ferry glide to a stop, before stepping in.
The figure at the helm was little more than a shadow¡ªa hooded outline against the fog. Its skeletal hands gripped the oar with practiced ease, each movement precise, deliberate, and indifferent. The hood turned ever so slightly in Jace¡¯s direction, clearly waiting for payment.
Pulling up his sleeve, Jace showed the Mark of Hades inked into his skin. The tattoo shimmered to life, glowing silver in the gloom, casting pale streaks of light that danced across the Ferryman¡¯s unmoving frame. It wasn¡¯t just a mark¡ªit was his coin, his ticket, his frequent-flyer pass to the underworld¡¯s exclusive club of the damned.
The shadow moved his hood ever so slightly. Not a nod, barely even an acknowledgment, and started rowing into the darkness.
"Bob," Jace said, "My guy. My dude. How¡¯s the eternal grind treating you these days?"
The Ferryman didn¡¯t answer. He never did. Just rowed.
The ferry cut through the Styx with the silence of a predator in dark waters. Its gliding was almost hypnotic. Jace sprawled on his favorite spot¡ªa part of the bench that was marginally less likely to give him tetanus.
"Always the strong, silent type," Jace continued, leaning forward, elbows on knees like they were old pals at a dive bar. "I respect that about you. And you know what? I¡¯ve been thinking. You¡¯re a workhorse, Bob. The backbone of the underworld. No breaks, no sick days."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
The silence stretched. Bob¡¯s hood didn¡¯t even twitch.
"I mean, look at you," Jace said, his smile widening. "Centuries¡ªno, millennia¡ªof ferrying poor bastards across a literal death river, and what do you get? Spooky vibes and maybe a dental plan if you¡¯re lucky. Not even a gold watch at the end of it. You ever think about unionizing? Getting some time off? A little vacation in the Elysian Fields, maybe? Picture it: you, a hammock, and a mai tai with one of those little umbrellas. That¡¯s the dream, Bob."
The boat dipped as it hit a ripple, the movement barely noticeable, but Jace was certain it was Bob¡¯s version of rolling his eyes.
"See? Even the river agrees with me," Jace teased, tapping his temple. "I¡¯ve got ideas, Bob. Big ideas."
A long pause stretched between them, heavy as the mist curling around the ferry. This was the part Jace hated¡ªthe silence. No matter how many times he made the trip, the Styx still got under his skin. The water wasn¡¯t just black; it was a black that felt alive, like it was watching, waiting.
He leaned back on the bench, trying to shake off the unease. Silence might have been Bob¡¯s thing, but Jace wasn¡¯t built for it. He¡¯d rather face a hydra than let the quiet creep in.
¡°Alright, Bob,¡± he said.
Bob¡¯s hood didn¡¯t move. The oar dipped into the water, smooth and steady, the sound slicing through the stillness like a clock ticking down.
¡°Why don¡¯t skeletons fight each other?¡±
Nothing.
¡°They don¡¯t have the guts." He punctuated it with finger guns, his grin widening.
The water lapped at the edges of the ferry in what Jace could¡¯ve sworn was an audible groan.
¡°Tough room,¡± Jace muttered, leaning back again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got a million of ¡®em.¡±
He could almost sense the relief radiating from Bob as the shore came into view, the dark outline of jagged rocks breaking through the mist. The ferry eased to a stop with the grace of a creature settling into its lair. Jace stood, stretching lazily.
¡°Well, Bob, as always, it¡¯s been an absolute delight,¡± he said, stepping onto the creaking planks of the dock. He shot the Ferryman a two-fingered salute. ¡°Five stars. Would recommend. You¡¯re a treasure, buddy.¡±
He turned, ready to stride off into the gloom, when a voice stopped him cold. Low and gravelly, it scraped the air like nails dragged across coffin wood.
¡°You get two. Talk too much.¡±
Jace froze mid-step, his head whipping around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Bob sat unmoving, the hood concealing whatever passed for a face, the oar steady in his skeletal grip.
¡°You¡ª¡± Jace pointed an incredulous finger, his voice caught somewhere between shock and laughter. ¡°Did you just¡ª? Bob! You son of a¡ª¡±
But the mist was already swallowing the ferry, taking Bob and his impossible sass with it. Jace stood there for a moment, stunned, before a laugh burst out of him, wild and unrestrained.
¡°Two stars,¡± he muttered, shaking his head as he started walking. ¡°Unbelievable.¡±
Chapter Ten: Hanging with Hades
Chapter Ten: Hanging with Hades
Hades¡¯ chamber stood as if carved from the essence of night itself. The ceiling soared into vanishing blackness. Walls rippled faintly with the shimmer of dying stars, the constellations caught in their final sighs, tiny glimmers of reverence for their ruler.
At the center of the chamber, Hades stood¡ªa figure of daunting grace. His robes flowed in restless waves of liquid umbra, the fabric shifting like ink spilled into water. His presence pressed against the senses, his angular face a study in measured power. Eyes that seemed to hold the first secret of creation met Jace¡¯s with an unrelenting pressure¡ªa balance of humor, curiosity, and a threat so sharp it seemed to hum in the air.
Curled beside the throne, Cerberus slumbered. The three-headed beast was a mass of black fur and primal muscle, each head resting at a different angle and flopped over the other, their rhythmic breathing stirring faint wisps of ash and shadow from the ground. Even in sleep, the creature radiated menace, a reminder that the Underworld¡¯s gates were never unguarded.
Leaning against the throne, Persephone was a study in contradictions. Her hair, a cascade of wild wheat and untamed sunlight, framed a face that radiated life so vibrant it felt almost blinding in this place of death. But beneath the golden beauty was a quiet, sharp edge¡ªdarkness woven into the lines of her expression, a reminder of her dominion in this shadowed world. One hand rested lightly on the throne¡¯s back, her nails tracing idle patterns into the armrest, her posture the perfect blend of poise and danger.
¡°Jace,¡± Hades said, his voice rich and smooth, like molten honey poured over thunder. He leaned casually against his obsidian throne, one boot resting on the edge of a dais. ¡°Kid, how in the Underworld are ya?¡± His tone carried the burden of ancient mountains but was delivered with the easy charm of someone who¡¯d long since stopped taking themselves too seriously.
Jace took a hesitant step forward, his boots scuffing against the cool stone floor.
¡°Hanging in there,¡± Jace replied, shrugging. ¡°Not dead yet.¡±
¡°Atta boy.¡± Hades grinned, his teeth flashing white against his shadowed face. ¡°Not dead yet. Love that for you.¡± He gave a distracted wave of his hand, as if dismissing the thought before his eyes flicked back to Jace. ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal? You come down here to raid my fridge, or is there something I can do for you?¡±
Jace¡¯s shadow rippled and stretched unnaturally with each step, spilling across the marble floor in distorted shapes that seemed to writhe with a life of their own. When he stopped, he inclined his head¡ªa shallow, instinctive bow, more reflex than reverence.
¡°You summoned me,¡± he said, his voice measured and steady. Yet beneath the surface, it thrummed with tension, like a string pulled to the edge of breaking.
¡°Right, yes. That I did.¡± Hades¡¯ reply was casual, almost too casual, as if he were testing the waters with every word.
Jace¡¯s gaze flicked to Persephone. She met it and gave the slightest nod, but her eyes spoke louder than words. This is a risk.
The glance she exchanged with Hades hinted at something unspoken, an agreement fraught with uncertainty. Whatever game they were playing, Hades was keeping his cards far too close to his chest.
Hades nodded, a subtle dip of his chin. His hand, pale as the moonlight that never reached this realm, gestured for Jace to approach. ¡°Tomorrow, the Winter Games await you,¡± he said, his tone unhurried but inescapable, as if each word was etched in the bedrock of reality itself.
Jace hesitated but took another step forward. The flickering light from the braziers danced across his face, painting him in fleeting half-light. The air thickened as Hades spoke again, the chamber seeming to lean in, devouring the sound of his words.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
¡°The Games are more than sport,¡± Hades continued, his words slow and deliberate. ¡°They are belief made flesh, power given form. Every swing of the sword, every drop of blood feeds the divine. It binds us, Jace¡ªgods and mortals alike.¡±
¡°Could you maybe dial down the poetry a notch?¡± Jace said, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Didn¡¯t get much sleep, and I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ve got the bandwidth for it right now.¡±
Jace thought he might have caught the faintest smile ghost across Persephone¡¯s lips, but if it had been, it vanished just as quickly, leaving her expression unreadable.
¡°Plain terms¡ªfacing the Tower is a big deal. Amongst the gods, the higher our patrons go, the more prestige shines upon us,¡± he said, the words soft yet ironclad.
¡°So, in essence, this is a pep talk. ¡®Don¡¯t muff it up, kid. All eyes are on you.¡¯ That sort of thing?¡± Jace¡¯s tone carried dry humor, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.
¡°In the most basic sense, sure,¡± Hades said, his voice a low rumble. ¡°But do you truly understand what it means to be Chosen, young prince of Roandia?¡±
Jace straightened under the power of that question, his reply steady but uncertain. ¡°It means we struck a deal, at the start of my term here. You would be my patron, and I¡¯d serve under your banner.¡±
Persephone¡¯s lips curved in a faint smile as she listened, this time not hiding it, her golden hair catching the dim, flickering light. Hades, however, frowned, his sharp features etched with something between disappointment and amusement.
¡°Yes, yes, that¡¯s quite true,¡± Hades said, his tone almost dismissive. ¡°But what does it mean to be Chosen? Are you familiar with how gods grow in power? From where our strength derives?¡±
Jace hesitated, turning the question over in his mind. ¡°I¡ don¡¯t know,¡± he admitted finally.
Hades leaned forward, his pale fingers steepling beneath his chin. ¡°From you, Jason. And others like you. From our followers, our worshippers. Power flows to us through belief, action, and acknowledgment. When you strike down an enemy of the Underworld, when you free a soul, it is a form of tribute. You and all of my followers add up to my power.¡±
¡°I thought I was your only Chosen,¡± Jace said, confusion knitting his brow.
Hades laughed then, a low, rolling sound that carried more shadow than mirth. ¡°Oh, boy, you are my only Chosen. That much is true. But I have followers¡ªthousands upon thousands of them. Do not mistake being Chosen for being singular.¡±
The room seemed to darken as Hades¡¯ voice gained substance. ¡°A follower can be anyone who offers a prayer, makes a sacrifice, fights under a banner, or even acts in alignment with a domain. Work for freedom, and you empower the gods of freedom. Obsess over science, and you pour power into the gods and goddesses of discovery. Every act, every belief, every small devotion feeds the gods. Unaligned individuals¡ªthose without a patron¡ªscatter their energy like seeds in the wind, shared among the deities of a domain. Fight for a soul¡¯s right to move on, and you step into my domain¡ªmine and my understudies, Pluto, Anubis, Hel, and the rest of my counterparts across Mythica.¡±
His pale hand gestured, a flicker of shadow trailing his movements. ¡°But those under my banner, those who declare themselves as mine, grant their offerings directly to me. Think of it as¡ godly experience points. We grow stronger because of you.¡±
Jace nodded slowly, the pieces clicking into place. ¡°I think I get it.¡±
Hades arched an eyebrow, his expression faintly amused. ¡°Do you? A Chosen is not just a follower, Jason. A Chosen is a conduit. You are an extension of me, tied closer to my essence than most mortals ever dream of being. Through you, I can grant my gifts more freely and claim a greater share of the tokens you generate.¡±
Jace¡¯s throat tightened. ¡°So I¡¯m like, what¡ a sales rep?¡±
Hades took a deep, measured breath and shook his head before he continued.
¡°At your level, you¡¯re power is but an echo of my presence. But the higher ranks of a Chosen are called Avatar¡ªthe top is known as the Voice. A Voice speaks with my authority, wields my gifts in their purest form, and acts as a true vessel of my will. If you become my Avatar, it puts me within certain rights to¡ upgrade your abilities. To provide boons you will carry with or without a connection to me.¡±
Persephone¡¯s smile deepened, a flicker of warning dancing in her eyes as Hades leaned closer, his gaze piercing. ¡°But let me be clear¡ªthis comes at a cost. If I were to elevate you too far, too fast, your mind would shatter like glass, your soul bursting free of your body, leaving scraps of you for old Cerberus to clean up.¡±
The three-headed beast stirred at the mention of its name, one massive head rising to scan the room before settling back down with a low, rumbling sigh, its tails curling closer around its hulking body.
¡°Then let¡¯s avoid that,¡± he said, his voice dry but resolute.
Hades chuckled, a sound that carried both approval and menace. ¡°Smart boy.¡±
Chapter Eleven: Avatar
Chapter Eleven: Avatar
¡°This next part is important, Chosen,¡± Hades said, his tone heavy. ¡°A god is bound by certain rules. Rules between the gods. We call them the Golden Accords. One of these limits the amount of power we may grant to our Chosen. Each god can only grant a fraction of their tokens¡ªtheir divine power¡ªbased on how many followers we have and how many serve directly under our banner. However, it doesn¡¯t matter how many Chosen a god has. The power granted is divided among them all¡ equally.¡±
Jace furrowed his brow, trying to piece it together. ¡°Kind of like the conservation of ninjitsu?¡± he said, the corners of his mouth twitching as he recalled grainy action movies watched on battered VHS tapes with his brother.
Hades arched a brow. ¡°The what?¡±
¡°It¡¯s this old rule from action movies,¡± Jace explained, his tone light despite the somber atmosphere. ¡°The more enemies there are, the weaker they all seem. But when there¡¯s only one enemy? That one enemy gets all the juice¡ªall the ninjitsu.¡±
Hades tilted his head, considering the odd analogy, then gave a slow nod. ¡°I suppose, in a sense, yes. The conservation of¡ ninjitsu.¡± The faintest hint of a smile touched Persephone¡¯s lips as she glanced at her husband. ¡°Because you are my only Chosen, I can afford certain leniencies with the power I grant you.¡±
Jace¡¯s eyes widened slightly. ¡°This is huge. Why didn¡¯t you tell me sooner?¡±
Hades¡¯ expression darkened, the humor vanishing like a shadow under harsh light. ¡°Because the power I can grant doesn¡¯t come without strings, boy. You¡¯ve had a taste of it already. Surely, you¡¯ve begun to notice the effects.¡±
Jace frowned, his mind flickering back to moments when his abilities had felt¡ different. Unnatural, almost. He nodded subtly.
Hades nodded, his gaze piercing. ¡°The powers of the Underworld are not to be taken lightly. Too much, too soon, and they will leave their mark on you. They can taint your journey, warp your Affinities. Gods who are wise,¡± his gaze flicked toward Persephone, ¡°are careful with their gifts. When I made you my Chosen, I granted you small boons to aid you on your path, but even those have altered how your Affinities developed. Have you noticed anything¡ unusual about your abilities?¡±
Jace hesitated before nodding. ¡°There¡¯s one thing. It doesn¡¯t fit with anything else I¡¯ve learned. I can¡ absorb the aether from beings I kill.¡±
Hades¡¯ eyes flickered with surprise, though he quickly masked it. ¡°I see,¡± he murmured, leaning back in his throne. ¡°This is¡ something I have encountered before. Though, only once.¡±
¡°With my father?¡± Jace asked, his voice sharpening.
¡°Yes,¡± Hades said simply. ¡°The ability itself is neither good nor evil. It¡¯s a tool, nothing more. But it is potent. You¡¯re tapping into the aether directly, Jason. Most mortals do this unconsciously when they gain experience¡ªEXP, as you call it. But you¡¡± He paused. ¡°You¡¯re doing it intentionally. With enough mastery, you may siphon far more than your peers. Ten times the energy, perhaps even enough to absorb the strength of a creature without having to kill it outright.¡±
Jace¡¯s mouth went dry, his mind racing. ¡°And my Soul Tether ability,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°When I connect to a creature, I can pull some of its attributes. When I tethered to a hydra, I gained part of its healing factor.¡±
Hades inclined his head, his expression grave. ¡°Exactly. These changes might have come naturally, but my boons have amplified them, weaving into the fabric of your abilities. The more I grant you, the more pronounced these changes will become. Even so¡¡± His voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he studied Jace. ¡°Given what lies ahead, you may need them.¡±
¡°What do you mean?¡± Jace asked, his voice quiet but steady.
¡°The territory you¡¯re entering is neutral ground among the gods,¡± Hades said, leaning forward. ¡°You will face scrutiny¡ªintense scrutiny. Many will see you just as my only Chosen, my single representative in these games. And single means more dangerous. Some will resent that. Some will want you dead.¡±
Jace tensed, his fists clenching. ¡°I can handle myself.¡±
Hades¡¯ lips twisted into a faint, humorless smile. ¡°You¡¯ll have to. While you¡¯ll carry the abilities my boons have awakened, you must be ready to fight without my direct intervention. There are¡ old wounds that haven¡¯t quite closed between me and some of my counterparts. For that reason, my aid will be limited. And once you step into the Tower, all gods¡ªmyself included¡ªwill be cut off entirely.¡±
Jace nodded, the gravity of the situation settling over him like a heavy mantle. ¡°I understand.¡±
¡°Do you? With great power, Jace, comes something else.¡±
¡°Like, responsibility?¡± Jace asked, tilting his head.
Hades stared at him, unblinking. ¡°What? No. Who said anything about responsibility?¡± His voice carried a faint ripple of disdain, like the idea itself was offensive. ¡°No, this kind of power exacts a cost¡ªone far graver than you realize. Take too much, too soon, and it will twist the very core of who you are, altering your path forever. Your abilities won¡¯t just grow; they¡¯ll bind you more tightly to the Underworld. To me.¡±
His voice was barely more than a breath, swallowed whole by the responsibility of the Underworld. ¡°Care to elaborate? I mean, I¡¯m all for ominous and vague warnings but not sure I can do much with them.¡±
Pride danced in his eyes, subtle but unmistakable, the kind a warrior might show to a recruit who hadn¡¯t yet flinched.
¡°This power isn¡¯t a gift¡ªit¡¯s a trade, and it always demands its toll,¡± Hades said, his voice flat, unyielding, and cold enough to make the air feel heavier. ¡°You¡¯ll have allies, people you think you can lean on. But trust them sparingly. The gods, Jace¡ the gods play games within games. They will move you like a pawn, manipulate you, twist you until you¡¯re nothing more than a piece to be sacrificed. If you let them.¡±
He paused, his dark eyes locking onto Jace¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can to strengthen you against them. To make you something more than just a piece on their board. But don¡¯t fool yourself¡ªI might break you in the process. You mortals, even the so-called long-lived ones, are so¡ fragile.¡±
The word hung in the air like a blade over Jace¡¯s head.
¡°Now kneel, Chosen, and I¡¯ll bestow the gift.¡±
The pressure hit like a physical force, a weight pressing down on Jace¡¯s shoulders, urging him to kneel. But something deep inside him¡ªthe stubborn, rebellious core that had carried him this far¡ªrose up in defiance.
¡°Kneeling seems a bit¡ old-fashioned, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Jace said, forcing his voice to stay steady, though his knees trembled.
Hades raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement ghosting across his face. ¡°I daresay your stubbornness will either be the end or the making of you, Jason. But fine. It was mostly to keep you from falling on your ass, anyway. So, have it your way.¡±
Hades is attempting to forcibly evolve several of your abilities.
Accept | Reject
Jace chose Accept.
And then it hit.
A surge of darkness and twilight erupted from Hades¡¯ hands, spilling out like a tidal wave of shadow and raw power. The force struck Jace square in the chest, slamming him to the floor. The world around him twisted, folded, and shattered in flashes of black and violet light.
This was it¡ªthe precipice, the moment where everything changed. The last fragile thread tethering him to the life he once knew frayed, snapped, and was consumed in the void.
The power roared into him, not as a gentle tide but as a hurricane, tearing through him with reckless abandon. It unmade him¡ªdissolving every barrier, every wall he¡¯d built around himself¡ªbefore knitting him back together in ways he couldn¡¯t comprehend. He gasped, his lungs burning, the pain both a wound and a revelation, feeding on each other like two serpents swallowing their tails.
For a fleeting, brilliant moment, the world shattered open before him. He saw it not as a man, but as something more. The intricate web of existence unraveled in his mind¡ªthreads of light and shadow twisting together in impossible patterns. Life and death, magic and matter, all bound together in a tapestry so breathtaking it ached to look upon it. His mortal mind buckled, barely able to hold the understanding, and for an instant, he thought he might break. Blood poured from Jaces nose and eyes.
He felt himself shifting backward, as if untethered from the confines of his body. Two feet, three, five, ten¡ªuntil he was hovering above it all, looking down on Hades, Persephone, and¡ himself. But not himself. His body.
For the first time, he truly felt the divide, the line that separated what he was from his physical form. The thing that had traveled across universes, shedding layers like old skin. The him that was the real him¡ªthe essence, the core¡ªfloated apart, weightless and vast, as if it had always been waiting to break free.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
And then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended.
Jace crumpled to the cold stone floor, his knees striking hard enough to send jolts of pain up his legs. He gasped for air, clawing it back into his lungs, his body trembling violently with the aftershocks of the power that had coursed through him.
Jace raised his head, his body still trembling. His voice, when it came, was hoarse but steady. ¡°I should¡¯ve kneeled.¡±
Hades stepped forward, his towering shadow blanketing Jace¡¯s collapsed form. The god¡¯s voice was a steady rumble, heavier now, more tangible. ¡°As my followers grow, so too will your power. A fragment of what they give will feed your abilities. And as your own capabilities expand¡ªyour capacity to wield this energy¡ªI will grant you more. But make no mistake, Jace. It must be earned. Prove yourself worthy of it.¡±
Jace blinked, his vision swimming, just as the interface flared in his mind, its cold, sterile pings cutting through the haze like distant bells.
Jace felt the changes surging through him, raw and unrelenting. The power coursed through his veins, igniting every nerve, every cell, until it felt like his very essence was being rewritten. The shift was undeniable, a fundamental reordering of what he was and what he could be.
His senses sharpened, the world around him snapping into vivid, almost overwhelming clarity. He could hear the faint hum of energy in the air, feel the subtle vibrations in the ground beneath him, as if the earth itself was alive and speaking. His muscles coiled with newfound strength, power humming beneath his skin, ready to explode at a thought.
His mind was faster, sharper, as if a veil had been lifted. Ideas, connections, realizations¡ªthey all came in a rush, like floodgates thrown wide open. He wasn¡¯t just stronger¡ªhe was more.
It was as if the pathways of his aether had been pushed open and realigned, energy flowing in directions it had never before.
A series of system notifications flashed before his eyes.
System Notification:
Soul Step has been forcibly evolved by Hades.
Soul Step has merged with Soul Walk to form a new ability.
All merged abilities will be removed from your abilities list.
New Ability: Shift
Soul Sense has been forcibly evolved by Hades.
The evolution has been altered by the Word of Power: Truth.
Soul Sense has absorbed the following abilities:
Universal Lore
Soul Detection
Knowledge Absorption
These enhancements have resulted in the creation of a new ability: Truthsense.
Soul Bind has been forcibly evolved by Hades.
Soul Bind has merged with:
Soul Tether
Aetheric Absorption
Soul Severance
The resulting new ability is: Chains of Oblivion.
Shadow Cloak has been forcibly evolved by Hades.
Shadow Cloak has absorbed the effects of:
Iron Stomach
Resistance to Death
Mostly Dead
No Pain, No Gain
Soul Mend
The evolution has resulted in a new ability: Etheric Shroud.
Additional abilities gained:
Veil of the Underworld
Rebirth Anchor
Shadespeak
Looks like someone just got a serious upgrade, amigo. Hades must really like you. And hey, you didn¡¯t even puke or respawn from the strain! ¡ª Jack
Hades watched Jace with an unreadable intensity, his gaze tinged with something that might have been concern¡ªor perhaps expectation. Jace returned the look, feeling the faintest sway of dizziness but otherwise steady. He flexed his fingers, trying to focus through the lingering haze in his mind. He felt fine enough, but unease crept in at the edges, gnawing at him. His abilities had been reshaped, some erased entirely. What had he lost? What had been consumed in the process?
The thought barely took root before his stomach turned violently. Without warning, Jace doubled over and vomited with all the force of someone expelling more than just a bad meal. His body seemed to rebel against him, and he barely registered Hades stepping back with a flicker of distaste.
A few minutes later, the mess was gone, whisked away by ethereal spirits who worked with a brisk efficiency that left Jace clean but humiliated. He sat back, his breathing steadying, the faint hum of residual energy crawling under his skin.
The interface hovered before him, its sharp glow throwing his reflection into faint relief. Jace stared at the words, but they blurred in and out of focus, eclipsed by the sheer magnitude of what had just happened. Jack¡¯s note at the bottom caught his eye, its irreverent tone almost comforting in its familiarity.
Looks like someone just got a serious upgrade, amigo. Hades must really like you. And hey, no puking this time¡ªprogress!
Jace let out a humorless chuckle, wiping at the corners of his mouth as he muttered, ¡°Not this time, Jack. You jinxed it.¡±
His gaze flicked back to Hades, who remained motionless, observing him with an expression that was hard to place. The god¡¯s features were carved with an almost sculptural precision, and yet his eyes seemed to carry an emotion just shy of kindness¡ªthough not quite unkind. It was the look of someone waiting for something to happen.
Jace¡¯s attention drifted back to the interface, the words sharpening as he forced himself to focus. The list of abilities loomed before him, new names etched in with eerie finality. For now, though, he dismissed it, deciding to delve into the details later, when he could process it alone.
¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, you¡¯ve got new powers to master, and I have matters that require my attention.¡± With a deliberate sweep of his cloak, he turned, his shadow curling behind him like a living entity slipping back into the dark.
Persephone watched in silence, her expression unreadable, a statue carved from something more timeless than stone.
Just before disappearing from sight, Hades called back over his shoulder. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t muff it up, kid. All eyes are on you.¡±
And then he was gone.
Jace pushed himself to his feet, legs trembling under the burden of divinity, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. The ache in his muscles wasn¡¯t just exhaustion¡ªit was the strain of holding something far greater than he was meant to.
The journey back to the dock felt longer and when he arrived, the dock was empty¡ªno boat in sight.
¡°Figures,¡± Jace muttered under his breath. He looked out over the still, black water stretching infinitely into the unknown.
A sudden glow lit the corner of his vision. A small, vibrant green ball of light darted toward him, zipping in erratic circles before hovering a few feet away.
¡°Pik,¡± Jace said softly, feeling a surge of unexpected joy. ¡°Been a while. How in Terra Mythica are you?¡±
Pik buzzed, the sound somewhere between an over-wound violin string and a laugh too eager to hold back. It bobbed up and down, radiating energy that practically screamed hello.
Jace tilted his head, studying the little creature. ¡°You know what¡¯s odd¡ I think I knew you,¡± he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with something close to awe. ¡°Back when I was a baby, right?¡±
The light flared briefly, bouncing in a way that felt suspiciously like a nod.
Jace exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. ¡°How do I know? No, no one told me. It¡¯s just¡ªmy Truth Affinity¡ªit¡¯s like I get flashes, pieces of stuff I shouldn¡¯t know. Memories I shouldn¡¯t have. It¡¯s like trying to watch a puzzle assemble itself while someone keeps flipping the pieces upside down.¡±
Pik buzzed again, this time with a deeper vibration, and for a moment, Jace felt it¡ªa rush of images, sensations, and emotions flooding his mind, like someone whispering a story directly into his thoughts. It wasn¡¯t words, exactly, but it was clear. The concept that came back was friend and something about an offer to help.
His brow furrowed, and he leaned closer. ¡°Hold on¡ Did I just understand you?¡±
The buzzing shifted, sharper now, almost like laughter. Jace¡¯s lips twitched into a half-smile, a mix of disbelief and amusement.
¡°Well, that¡¯s new. You¡¯ve been holding out on me, haven¡¯t you, Pik? Or is it my new abilities?¡±
Pik¡¯s glow pulsed in a way that was undeniably cheeky. Jace chuckled, shaking his head, the warmth of ease settling over him.
But, the moment didn¡¯t last.
A subtle movement tugged at the corner of his vision, a shadow stirring where no shadow should be. His amusement drained away, replaced by instinct as his hand snapped to his sword. The blade whispered free, its edge gleaming in the faint light.
For a heartbeat, it felt like control. A burst of light spread through the hilt, and then¡ªjust like that¡ªcontrol was gone. Flowers sprouted along the blade¡¯s edge, delicate blossoms of pink and white climbing the steel like ivy, soft and completely useless.
Jace blinked at the floral betrayal, then at Pik, whose glow had dimmed to something suspiciously akin to embarrassment. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me,¡± he muttered, the shadow creeping closer.
Laughter rang out, soft and musical. ¡°Grayson,¡± Persephone said, stepping from the shadows, her golden hair catching the faint light like a halo.
Jace sighed, lowering the flower-covered sword. ¡°Perseph,¡± he replied with a tilt of his head, his voice dry. ¡°Nice trick.¡±
Her lips quirked in amusement. ¡°Perseph?¡± she repeated, her tone curious.
¡°What?¡± Jace shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. ¡°You gods get to call me whatever you want¡ªJason, Grayson, yadda yadda. So, fair¡¯s fair. I get to hand out nicknames too. Now, what¡¯s the deal? Here to try and sucker me into another quest? Because spoiler alert¡ªI¡¯m not so easy to manipulate these days.¡±
She arched a brow, her expression teetering between amusement and mild annoyance, but ultimately let it slide. ¡°No tricks, no manipulation,¡± she replied, her voice smooth and lilting, but with an edge sharp enough to draw blood. ¡°I came to offer advice. Take it or don¡¯t¡ªthat part is up to you.¡±
¡°Oh?¡± Jace crossed his arms, his wariness plain. ¡°And what¡¯s the catch?¡±
¡°No catch.¡± Her gaze softened, though it still held its unyielding edge. ¡°In what¡¯s to come, remember your friends. They will be your greatest strength.¡±
Her voice dropped, quieter now, but carrying a gravity that seemed to settle into the marrow of his bones. ¡°Sometimes, the darkness is not your enemy but your ally. And remember, Grayson, that the largest tree grows from the smallest seed.¡±
She raised her hand, and a small pinprick of light appeared between her fingers. It hovered there, glowing faintly, before she released it. The light drifted downward, touching the ground and sprouting into a tiny tree, its branches glowing with a radiant warmth that filled the space for a fleeting moment. Then it vanished, the light fading into nothingness.
As did Persephone.
¡°Great,¡± Jace muttered, throwing his hands in the air. ¡°Just once¡ªonce¡ªI¡¯d like to have a chat with a god and skip the whole riddle routine. Is that too much to ask?¡° He shook his head, frustration simmering beneath his breath.
He stared at the spot where Persephone had stood moments ago, now empty as if she¡¯d never been there.
From the shadows at the water¡¯s edge, Bob emerged with his rickety old boat, the skeletal ferryman framed against the dim, eerie glow of the underworld.
Of course.
Jace let out a long sigh and climbed into the boat, casting a side-eye at Bob. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t even start, Bob. I know you were out there in the dark, biding your time, stalling me for Persephone.¡±
Bob didn¡¯t speak.
Jace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. ¡°Yeah, thought so. And here I was, thinking we were bros, Bob. Bros don¡¯t leave bros hanging like that.¡±
Bob¡¯s shoulders twitched, a motion so slight it could almost be mistaken for a shrug.
By the time Jace reached his quarters in the Fields Below, the faint pink dust from the flowers had disappeared, leaving no trace.
Jace could still feel it, lingering beneath his skin¡ªthe power, the gift¡ªa reminder of what had changed and the brittle humanity he fought to hold onto. A gift in preparation for whatever was coming tomorrow.
Tomorrow. The word hung in the air, neither promise nor threat, just a certainty.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
Chapter Twelve: Character Sheet
Chapter Twelve: Character Sheet
Jace slumped into the chair in his small room, the weight of exhaustion hanging on him like a second cloak. The dim light from the overhead crystal cast soft shadows on the walls as he called up his character sheet. The glowing interface appeared before him, sharp and vibrant, the text scrolling into view with a faint hum of energy.
Character Sheet: Jace/Jason (Greyson)
Speaker Rank: Silver One
Class Title: Twilight Guardian, Avatar of Hades
Words of Power / Affinities: Soul + Truth
President of the Society of Hades
Resources: 5 silver, 16 copper
New Abilities Unlocked:
Rebirth Anchor
Establish a respawn point imbued with evolving magic.
You can set respawn points for yourself and willing allies.
Chains of Oblivion
Summon chains forged in the depths of the Underworld.
Immobilizes enemies, shackling their movements while siphoning their strength.
Absorbs drained energy to restore your health, amplify stamina, and pull aether directly from the target.
Excess energy can push your Aether, Stamina, and Health beyond natural limits, granting an overwhelming surge of power. Maximum capacity: unknown.
Chains inherit the power of Soul Severance, capable of severing soul connections to banish possessions, exorcise demons, and disrupt the undead.
Shadespeak
Commune with the dead.
Gain access to their memories, insights, or aid.
Abilities Updated Through Evolution
Shift (Replaces Soul Step and Soul Walk)
Allows rapid, short-distance teleportation while remaining partially tethered to this dimension.
Consumes significantly less aether compared to its predecessors.
Can be extended to carry multiple individuals at once, with increased strain depending on the number and weight of passengers.
Can travel into Soul Realm of target.
Truthsense (Replaces Soul Sense)
Absorbs the abilities of Universal Lore, Soul Detection, and Knowledge Absorption.
Enables the perception of hidden truths and unseen forces, revealing not just physical objects but intent, deception, and veiled magic. Level up for increased effectiveness.
Identify items. Detect all those who recently came in contact with item.
Soul Detection has triggered an additional effect¡ªSecond Sight: sense those around you within five feet. Level up to increase field and accuracy.
Etheric Shroud (Replaces Shadow Cloak)This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Merges resistance abilities, including Iron Stomach, Resistance to Death, Mostly Dead, and No Pain, No Gain.
Forged from the depths of the Underworld, Etheric Shroud combines the resilience of Iron Stomach, Resistance to Death, Mostly Dead, and No Pain, No Gain into a singular, formidable defense.
Cloaks the user in an impenetrable veil, granting concealment and unparalleled protection against physical and magical attacks.
Aether absorption enables damage mitigation and versatile healing for both self and allies. Healing potency is reduced by 40%, but Aether cost has plummeted by 95%, allowing for sustained use in battle.
Transforms the user into a near-untouchable wraith in critical conditions, blurring the line between life and death.
Summon the Etheric Weapon, a malleable construct that can shift into any form to match the demands of battle.
Invoke the Etheric Cloak to shroud yourself, parry incoming blows, or enhance mobility, seamlessly weaving defense and offense into a deadly dance.
Additional Traits Gained
Veil of the Underworld
Complete immunity to scanning, locating, and mind-probing spells, including divine-level attempts.
All efforts to uncover your true nature return only one fact: ¡°Chosen of Hades.¡±
The full scope of your identity remains hidden, even from immortal beings.
Attributes
Strength: 57
Dexterity: 69
Intelligence: 85
Wisdom: 99
Constitution: 56
Charisma: 37
Spirit Constitution: 99
Karmic Balance: 24
Avatar of Hades
Congratulations, you¡¯ve ascended to the Chosen Rank of Avatar! While most Chosen merely wander around playing helper for their patrons, you are in the big leagues now. You¡¯re not just a volunteer anymore¡ªyou¡¯re officially on the payroll.
Welcome to adulthood, kid.
Your benefits package includes:
Unlimited dining privileges in the Underworld (don¡¯t ask what¡¯s on the menu).
Zero vacation days (because who needs a break when you¡¯re dead half the time?).
A highly probable chance of being squashed, obliterated, or otherwise annihilated by rival gods on any given Tuesday.
Good luck, champ. You¡¯re going to need it!
Jace couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow at the descriptions. He was certain Jack¡ªthe voice of the System¡ªhad a hand in crafting them. Clearly, someone was feeling a little saucy today.
But, he didn¡¯t really mind. Jace couldn¡¯t deny it¡ªthe boosts were¡ impressive. Two of his Attributes were inching toward the 100 threshold, a milestone he knew was significant. Once crossed, new facets of those attributes would unlock¡ªor at least, that was what Professor Frost had claimed during class. The evolutions varied for everyone.
What struck him most wasn¡¯t just the surge of raw power¡ªit was the way his abilities seemed to coalesce into something new, something more cohesive. As he closed his eyes, he felt the familiar currents of aether flowing within, but now they were¡ different. The chaotic patterns he once struggled to command had aligned, weaving together in harmony. It was as if he¡¯d been forcing a jagged puzzle piece into place before, unaware of how much resistance he created. But now...
A golden energy washed over him, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth and light. Bliss poured through every fiber of his being, lifting him gently from the ground as radiant tendrils of midnight stardust spiraled around him, dancing with the golden glow. The air seemed to hum with life, resonating with the transformation unfolding within him.
And then, as smoothly as it began, the energy receded, setting him back on solid ground. He exhaled, a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding.
¡°You have evolved to Silver Two¡ªSilver Perceptor,¡± the voice intoned, rich and resonant.
He stood motionless, feeling the change settle in his core. His newfound affinity was a revelation. Unlike before, when his mastery in Bronze felt incremental and instinctive, stepping into Silver had reset everything he thought he understood. Now, with two affinities flowing through him, they pulsed and vied for dominance, their interplay more intricate than he¡¯d ever imagined.
It would take time to adapt, to find balance within the storm. But for the first time, he sensed the deeper potential¡ªthe infinite possibilities waiting to unfold.
A small flashing icon in the corner of his interface caught his eye. Curious, Jace tapped it, and a message unfolded.
Note from Hades
¡°You may be tempted to share your identity and past in this world. Resist the urge. You are stepping into a place shattered by the one who came before you¡ªthe Dark One. The kingdom of Roandia lies in ruin, with only this small city, a fragment of its former glory, still standing.
Since then, it has become contested ground, claimed as neutral territory by all the kings of Mythica. Your lineage, particularly your mother¡¯s side, is a danger to you, not a benefit. There are those who would stop at nothing to kill you for that connection alone.
Grow in power before you rise to prominence. And do so quietly, without becoming a nuisance or drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Only then can you afford the luxury of being loud.¡± ¡ªHades
He looked at his financial reserves then.
His reserves were critically low¡ªcompletely out of gold, in fact. Most of it had been sunk into recent purchases: essential upgrades for the Fields Below, items that Society Points couldn¡¯t cover, and a fresh stock of potion ingredients. He¡¯d meant to swing by Twig¡¯s shop again to check if the merchant had sold more of his potions. His first visit had been a bust¡ªthe shop was closed, and Twig was nowhere to be found. Now, with the trip looming, he simply didn¡¯t have the time. He¡¯d have to make do with what he had.
Chapter Thirteen: One Small Step
Chapter Thirteen: One Small Step
The announcement crackled to life through the crystals embedded in the walls of the mess hall, their glow pulsing faintly with each word, just as the first light of dawn broke the horizon.
¡°The Inken Trials are over.¡±
The voice sounded as grumpy as someone who¡¯d been awoken too early and had every reason to be displeased. Jace was already with his friends in the mess hall, picking at the remains of an early breakfast. A handful of other students had gathered, bleary-eyed, across the scattered wooden benches.
Dex, Ell, and Alice sat with Jace, the three of them close enough to hear the amused mutterings of the few other students. Molly and Marcus had promised they¡¯d meet the group at the portal. Jace noted that they had been spending an odd amount of time together.
The voice¡ªundoubtedly Brutus¡¯¡ªcrackled again, dripping with sarcasm. ¡°For whoever rigged my toilet with the ink bomb... I¡¯d like to commend you for your cleverness and attention to detail. You¡¯ve clearly been paying close attention in Artifice and Artifications class.¡±
Jace shot Dex a sidelong glance, catching the flash of his friend¡¯s devilish grin and the sly wink that followed. Across the table, Ell merely shook her head, her lips quirking in a faint smile as she sipped her tea.
The voice over the aether-enhanced crystals continued, now with a distinct edge. ¡°Additionally, when I find you¡ªand I will find you¡ªyou¡¯ll wish you weren¡¯t born.¡± The silence that followed hung heavy, stretching across the mess hall like an uneasy mist. Dex¡¯s gulp was unmistakable in the stillness.
The announcement concluded with all the joy of a death sentence. ¡°All remaining students, gather at the Hermes District gates for transport. We leave for the Southeastern Stronghold in one hour. If you don¡¯t make it, you will be left behind.¡±
The announcement rippled through the small morning crowd, murmurs growing into cheers, as if the very air held their collective relief. Of the thousand students who had entered, only 489 remained.
Jace and the rest of the Scooby-Gang had dragged themselves out of bed before dawn, the kind of early that made their eyes sting and their tempers short. Rumor had it that Brutus would offer only a narrow window and try to weed out a few late waking students. He seemed eager to wash his hands of this year¡¯s Games, and a part of Jace couldn¡¯t help but think he might have the right idea. With everything spiraling out of control lately, the prospect of the Games felt more like a curse than an event. But it was a curse that Jace had no intention of avoiding.
The students were directed to Hermes District, a place that hummed with life and magic. Jace and his friends moved as a group, the energy of the district around them almost infectious. Dex swaggered ahead, his grin widening every time Ell rolled her eyes in response to his antics. He looked back at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
¡°C¡¯mon, Ell, admit it. You¡¯re impressed,¡± Dex said, his voice laced with faux charm.
Ell gave him another dramatic eye roll, her tone dry as she shot back, ¡°The only thing I¡¯m impressed by is your ability to beat expectations. Just when I think you¡¯ve done the dumbest thing you could, you go ahead and surprise me.¡± Despite her words, there was no venom in her tone¡ªjust the usual exasperation Dex seemed to inspire.
¡°You do realize that the Inken Trials were technically over at dawn today,¡± Alice said. ¡°We could have just waited.¡±
¡°And let Brutus think he bested us? I don¡¯t think so,¡± Dex countered.
Ell huffed, but a small, reluctant smile finally broke through her feigned irritation. She gave Dex a light bump with her elbow as they walked, her voice softening. ¡°You¡¯re impossible, you know that?¡±
¡°It¡¯s part of my charm,¡± Dex replied, winking. He swaggered a little further ahead, and Ell just sighed, shaking her head, though her smile lingered.
Marcus and Molly appeared, cheeks flushed, walking beside the group as they made their way.
¡°Where have you two been?¡± Ell asked, her tone playful, masking a hint of faux sternness.
Marcus opened his mouth, ¡°Uh¡ª¡° but Ell cut him off with a small laugh.
¡°I see,¡± she said, with a knowing grin. ¡°Well, heads in the game, we are almost there.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not like that,¡± Marcus protested. Molly just smiled.
A row of grand pillars flanked the path, standing sentinel at the entrance to Hermes District. These ancient, towering structures were carved from obsidian-hued stone, so dark it seemed to swallow the dawn light entirely. Their surfaces shimmered with intricate runes, glowing faintly like captured moonlight, each rune a testament to the centuries of protective enchantments etched into their being. The carvings seemed almost alive, the light flowing in delicate pulses, hinting at layers of magic woven deeply into the pillars¡¯ foundations, as if Hermes himself had whispered secrets into the stone.
Molly eyed the runes. ¡°You know,¡± she said, her voice low with intrigue, ¡°I heard these were designed during the War of the Fates. Supposedly, they can seal off the entire district if something dark tries to slip through one of its many portal arches.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Beyond the entrance, Hermes District unfurled before them like a living tapestry, a kaleidoscope of magic and motion. The scent of parchment mingled with citrus and the metallic tang of active enchantments, energy pulsing in the very air around them.
Streets of polished lapis stone shifted subtly beneath their feet, each step awakening a soft, glowing trail that spread across the ground like ripples of light. Ripples transformed into sprawling waves, illuminating wherever they stepped, as if the District itself remembered and guided each traveler with a gentle, shimmering embrace.
Above, enchanted courier birds¡ªsmall constructs of brass and feathers¡ªdarted between floating lanterns glowing in hues of amber and emerald. Their wings were a blur of grace and precision, delivering scrolls and parcels to their rightful owners.
Dex dodged as a bird swooped particularly close, almost grazing his head. ¡°These fancy feather dusters have it out for me, I swear.¡±
The Archway Path stood as the centerpiece, a towering marvel of both engineering and magic. Each arch was distinct, each a gate to a different realm, a different domain of wonder. The group gathered with other students¡ªmany of whom had camped out even earlier, now waiting with eager, restless energy. But this arch was unlike the rest. Chains and iron bars wove around its frame, large and imposing, almost daring anyone to try and pass through. Its stone surface was etched with intricate glyphs. Massive locks, an amalgamation of both mechanical ingenuity and arcane spellwork, crisscrossed the arch, barring entry to whatever lay beyond. A faint hum filled the air, a subtle but persistent static that raised the hairs on Jace¡¯s arms the closer he got.
Seeing the gathered students¡ªonce a thousand strong, now reduced to this small group¡ªmade the reality sink in. The number on the leaderboard was one thing, but seeing how few remained drove the point home with undeniable clarity.
¡°Less than half made it,¡± Alice murmured, her sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd. ¡°Brutus wasn¡¯t kidding about thinning the herd.¡±
Dex let out a mirthless chuckle. ¡°Thinning the herd? More like nearly wiping it out. I only wish I¡¯d come up with that little trick sooner¡ªmight¡¯ve spared a few more necks.¡±
Ell shot him a glare, her eyes narrowing. ¡°Your ¡®little trick¡¯ was reckless,¡± she retorted. ¡°You¡¯d better hope that Brutus has enough of a sense of humor¡ªor enough patience¡ªnot to vaporize you on the spot when he realizes it was you. And he will figure it out.¡±
Jace tuned out their familiar bickering, his thoughts lingering on Thistle, their gnomish tank and friend¡ªthe one piece missing from the Scooby-Gang. He had visited Thistle in the infirmary the day before, and the sight had left an unsettling impression: Thistle was pale, gaunt, his movements sluggish, his eyes distant. The spiritual counselor had explained that Thistle¡¯s soul fragments were still knitting back together after the possession¡ªa delicate process that required time, nourishment, and space.
Using his Soul Affinity, Jace had confirmed it himself. Thistle¡¯s essence was fractured, like shards of glass slowly trying to reunite, each fragment struggling to fit back into place. It was painful to witness, like watching a shattered vase attempt to make itself whole, cracks still visible but promising eventual restoration.
¡°He just needs time,¡± the counselor had assured him. ¡°And a chance to feel strong again.¡±
Jace had resolved to help Thistle when the time was right. But for now, his friend needed to heal at his own pace. Shaking off the thought, Jace redirected his focus to the task at hand, the weight of impossible responsibility settled heavy on his shoulders, a familiar burden.
Brutus strode confidently to the base of the arch, his heavy boots thudding with authority. He halted before a series of levers embedded in the pedestal, his hand moving with a deliberate familiarity. The locks on the arch began to disengage, one after another, each release accompanied by a deep, resonant clang¡ªlike ancient machinery shaking off centuries of dormancy. With each grunt of exertion, he pulled a lever, the sound of each released lock echoing like a hammer striking an anvil, deep and resonant. The gears groaned in response, mechanisms grinding against years of enchantment as the arch slowly awakened.
¡°This isn¡¯t just to keep us out,¡± Alice murmured to Jace, her voice barely audible. ¡°It¡¯s to keep something in.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s hope it stays that way,¡± he replied.
The final lock disengaged with a thunderous boom, echoing through the District. The glyphs flared brilliantly before fading into a faint, steady glow. It was unlocked, but not activated.
Brutus turned to face the students, his expression carved from stone. ¡°What lies beyond this gate is not for the faint of heart,¡± he said, his voice steady, carrying an edge of warning. ¡°Remember what you¡¯ve learned. And damn your pride! If you can¡¯t handle a challenge, step aside rather than gamble away your lives in some misguided bid for glory.¡±
Uneasy glances flickered between the students, his words settling over them like a heavy fog. Yet beneath the weight of his warning, anticipation simmered, a spark slowly igniting, flickering to life in their eyes.
The chatter of students faded into silence as Professor Dranice Thorne stepped forward, again from apparently nowhere. His crimson cloak billowed dramatically, catching the light like a flickering flame.
¡°Listen closely,¡± he began, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. ¡°Beyond this gate lies the last stronghold of Roandia. It is a refuge, yes, but also a crucible. Representatives from across the world¡ªgods, mortals, schools¡ªall gather there. Your actions will not go unnoticed. Everything you do reflects upon you, your future, and this University.¡±
His gaze swept over the gathered students, sharp and assessing. ¡°Remember: a single death, or activation of your Escape Orb means disqualification. You will exit the Tower immediately, your journey over.¡±
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but a stern glare from Dranice silenced them instantly. ¡°This is not a game, despite the name. Do not disgrace yourselves¡ªor this institution. You represent Mount Olympus University. Act accordingly.¡±
With a swift flick of his wrist, the arch flared to life. Runes ignited along its frame, glowing in brilliant gold and silver, swirling like molten fire. The air around them seemed to shimmer, a faint hum building until it vibrated through their very bones.
The portal burst open in a blinding flash, before settling into a shimmering twilight that enveloped the arch. Its surface rippled like liquid starlight, shifting and swirling in an endless, mesmerizing dance, as if the very fabric of the cosmos had been woven into the gateway. The light gathered and refracted, forming an event horizon that seemed to bend reality itself¡ªan ethereal threshold that blurred the line between this world and whatever lay beyond.
Brutus was the first to move, stepping forward without a word and vanishing into the arch.
¡°Go on, step through,¡± Dranice commanded, his voice brooking no argument. He stepped aside, gesturing sharply for them to follow, his gaze daring anyone to hesitate.
Jace caught Alice¡¯s gaze, and she gave him a small nod¡ªan unspoken promise of solidarity. Together with the others, they moved forward, stepping into the portal. The world blurred around Jace, swallowed in light and sound, his senses overwhelmed by the rush of magic.
As the brightness faded, Jace blinked, his breath catching in his throat as the sprawling city¡ªthe last stronghold of Roandia¡ªunfurled before him, vibrant and alive, stretching endlessly under the vast blue sky.
Chapter Fourteen: Fractured Sky
Chapter Fourteen: Fractured Sky
The portal opened onto a windswept hilltop.
Territory Discovered. Added to Map.
The Southeastern Stronghold, Last Bastion of the Fallen City of Roandia
Beside Jace, two dozen other gateways flickered with vibrant energy, their surfaces swirling like molten glass waiting to cool into stories untold. He stepped forward, breath curling visibly in the frigid air, and took in the city sprawling below.
Snow lay across the landscape like a jeweled mantle, each crystal reflecting the pallid sunlight and lending the world a cool, ethereal glow. Square edifices of glass, stone, and metal rose in the distance, proud beneath winter¡¯s tight-fisted hold. Their edges blurred slightly in the shimmering frost, making the city appear both solid and strangely elusive, as though it hovered between dream and waking.
Far below, at its heart, the city defied the season¡¯s icy decree. Smoke drifted upward from countless hearths and chimneys, carrying with it the rich scents of roasting meats and burning wood. Vibrant life throbbed there, a warm pulse against the stark quiet of surrounding snowfields. The city center spread out like a half-remembered reverie, spires coated with glittering rime that caught the faint sunlight and turned it into scattered hints of starfire. At the core stood the Sapphire Tower, its azure glass splintering daylight into a thousand tiny rainbows that pirouetted over slick cobblestones. Above and between the buildings, floating platforms hummed softly, arcs of arcane energy ferrying cloaked figures from spire to spire. Some travelers gestured and chatted animatedly; others observed the scene below with calm detachment.
Scents drifted upward in subtle symphony: charred sweetness from caramelized nuts, the sharp kiss of exotic spices, a faint acrid tang from concoctions no doubt brewed in half-hidden workshops. Yet Jace found his gaze inexorably drawn upward. The sky itself had cracked¡ªsplit down the middle. On one side, blue and silver hues danced serenely, reflecting some quiet, hopeful magic radiating from the Stronghold City. On the other side, darkness intruded¡ªa stark, shattered void that seemed cleaved by a colossal wall rising to unimaginable heights. It dwarfed even the Sapphire Tower.
Darkness loomed on the horizon, a cruel presence that felt far too close. Jace hadn¡¯t realized how near they were to the Dark One¡¯s domain. The Tower, luckily rising on the light side of the divide, radiated a raw, unyielding power. As Jace¡¯s gaze lingered on its jagged form, whispers stirred in his mind. As he stared, strange murmurs brushed the edges of his thoughts, wordless whispers that refused to share their meaning, leaving only a prickle of unease along his spine. It was as if the Tower was speaking to him in a language he couldn¡¯t begin to comprehend.
A low hum broke through his reverie as the surrounding portals flared to life. The hush that followed was thick, the muffled crunch of footsteps on frost sounding like distant drums. Figures emerged, shoulders cloaked in foreign furs and woven scarves that sighed as they moved. Some walked as if the cold were a trivial rumor, their eyes fixed on goals hidden over the horizon. Others stumbled, disoriented, casting backward glances at portals whose luminous edges had dimmed to silence. Jace¡¯s pulse throbbed in his ears. He studied the arrivals, attempting to guess kingdoms and histories by their stances, by the subtle tilt of a head or the hush in their laughter. The Winter Games drew them all, but he sensed an undertow beneath the spectacle¡ªsomething darker, coiling unseen and waiting.
The wind lashed the hilltop, sharp as broken glass. Snow crunched like brittle sugar beneath their boots. Without hesitation, Jace accessed his inventory, donning the warmest gear he owned. The dark robes of Hades settled around him like a shroud of shadows, their ominous sigils hinting at ancient power. Nearby, Alice tugged her lilac robes tight, the runes stitched into them glowing softly with each movement. Dex¡¯s emerald cloak bore frost-warding runes along its trim, and Marcus moved confidently under the white and gold regalia emblazoned with Zeus¡¯s lightning crest. Ell¡¯s attire, a swirl of purple and rainbow hues, shimmered with a vibrant life of its own. And Molly, well, she stood apart in her simple black dress, its thin fabric fluttering indifferently against the biting wind. She never once flinched at the chill, eyes wide and unblinking as they drifted over the beautiful and mesmerizing scene. Her face, caught between awe and quiet disbelief, mirrored the uneasy questions stirring behind every watching gaze.
The portals poured forth a steady stream of arrivals, a thousand brilliant threads weaving a tapestry across the brittle air. From the northern gate, huge Norse figures trudged forward, breath steaming in clouds beneath helms adorned with twisting knots. Their cloaks, rough-hewn from bear and wolf pelts, caught the wind, flaring like captured storms. Weapons etched with pulsing runes hummed at their sides, and at their feet stalked wolves the size of small horses, heavy paws sinking into the snow with deliberate menace. Laughter rolled from their chests, a deep thunder rattling distant treetops.
From the east stepped Egyptians swathed in robes the color of desert twilight. Gold filigree glinted at their collars and wrists, the metal seeming to trap sunlight and cast it back in fluid waves. A lithe priestess strode ahead, flanked by dusky felines whose eyes burned with an ancient knowing. Behind her loomed a crocodile-headed sentinel, its skin dark and glossy as river mud, each step shaking the ground as though testing the world¡¯s foundations.
Nearby, elves drifted through a portal framed by silver branches. They seemed to materialize rather than walk, cloaks embroidered with shifting leaves that whispered against one another in a hush of wind. Their eyes held emerald and argent reflections, catching distant fires and turning them into quiet galaxies. Their laughter was a low, rolling music that smoothed sharp edges from the chill air, filling it with a sense of calm that needed no words.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
From another gateway poured Celtic warriors, faces flushed by wind, hair as red and coppery as autumn¡¯s dying leaves. They carried axes that winked in the pale light, their edges telling stories of battles fought in endless forests. Voices rang out in bright bursts, challenging the cold and the silence. Their boots crunched through the snow with sure purpose, as if the world itself shifted to welcome their stride.
In a swirl of incense and shifting shadows, Asian spirits emerged, fox-tailed and masked figures gliding over snow without leaving footprints. A young serpentine dragon¡ªyoung by dragon years at least¡ªcoiled lazily in the air, pearl-like eyes serene and patient. Its whiskers drifted like fine brushstrokes, while beneath it, a cluster of robed monks passed in silence, their lanterns painting delicate patterns on the ground. Strange and monstrous creatures followed behind, tusks gleaming, rattling clubs that emitted sharp, crackling sparks, their laughter neither cruel nor kind, but something more inscrutable.
From a distant portal came the whisper of flutes and rattles, followed by beings whose markings recalled jaguar spots and hummingbird feathers. The air tasted of damp earth and fresh rain as shamans stepped forth, skins patterned in spirals of teal and ochre, feathered serpents twisting around their ankles. A hooded figure raised a hand, conjuring a swirl of incense that tasted of cacao and chili, and the world seemed to tilt, acknowledging some older truth.
Yet not all arrivals were framed in warmth or stately grace. Another opening revealed a huge serpent coiled protectively around a silent, hooded traveler. The serpent¡¯s emerald scales caught distant fires and sent them dancing across the snow, while the robed figure¡¯s measured steps needed no companion other than the reptile¡¯s quiet, watchful presence.
No voice governed them. They fanned out into the cold clearing, old myths and new stories pressing against one another, forging an uneasy harmony of flesh, fur, scale, and steel.
Jace watched this congregation, his gaze darting from group to group. Voices in a dozen accents overlapped, laughter and murmurs forming a tapestry of sound. Cultures collided here, drawn by the promise of the Winter Games, and stood together beneath the fractured sky¡ªone half of it a serene winter poem, the other a black, broken cry.
It was then that another figure claimed his attention. A portal shimmered and she stepped through. Her stride was fluid, unhurried, as though time itself bowed to her passing. Her skin glowed like polished bronze under distant suns. Her features were chiseled and striking, balanced as if shaped by wise and ancient hands. She wore obsidian textiles threaded with gold filigree, patterns that teased meaning at the edge of understanding. They spoke of civilizations old as time, of powers that never truly slumber.
She stood among the Egyptians, yet something set her apart, as if she were the calm axis around which all others turned. While a gaggle of female companions chattered and laughed, their voices weaving melodic strands in the frosted air, she remained silent. That silence was not emptiness; it had weight and presence, a gravity that drew Jace¡¯s attention as surely as the Tower in the distance.
Then she looked up and their eyes met. For Jace, it was as if the world¡¯s noise faded, leaving only the quiet spark that leapt between them. Her eyes, dark and deep as the sea, held something ancient¡ªknowledge older than the stones, deeper than the endless snows. Silver hair shimmered under the bright daylight, each strand catching the sun as if woven from threads of light. It framed her face in a radiant contrast to the deep, sunlit bronze of her skin.
A resonance coursed through him, a quiet chord plucked at the center of his being. It went beyond beauty; it suggested vast landscapes hidden beneath calm waters. The moment stretched, and in it he sensed an inquiry or a challenge. For an instant, he thought he saw something flicker¡ªthough he couldn¡¯t tell if it was approval or wry amusement¡ªbefore she turned away, releasing him as though he had never held her attention at all.
The crowd thickened, shifting and swirling toward distant gates. Order emerged from chaos as lines formed almost instinctively, those from other kingdoms already headed down toward the city. Some flew, others walked, and even more vanished, using some form of teleportation magic.
A voice cut through the Olympian gathering. Dranice, sharp and clear: ¡°Students of Mount Olympus, you¡¯ll want to go and secure birthing. The district is marked on your maps. Brutus and I have other matters.¡± His gaze swept over them, as unflinching as the frost underfoot. ¡°The Welcome Ceremony begins at dusk tomorrow evening. We will see you then. Good luck and don¡¯t get into any trouble before then, eh?¡±
As the final words faded, Jace felt a soft chime in his mind. A glowing prompt hovered at the edge of his vision:
New Quest:
Find lodging.
Meet for the Welcome Ceremony at Dusk, Tomorrow Evening.
No instructions beyond that, no gentle mentorship to ease them into a foreign city. Just a challenge placed like bait. Jace scowled, scanning the faces around him. He saw confusion and resolve reflected back. Before anyone could voice a complaint, Dranice and Brutus dissolved into shimmering motes, leaving the hilltop and its pilgrims behind.
The students shifted restlessly, boots crunching in the snow, breath smoking in the chill. Soon they began descending toward the sprawling city, clusters forming and drifting apart, some studying enchanted maps, others simply following the crowd. The lanterns below promised warmth and shelter, but made no guarantees.
Jace lingered a moment, feeling the icy wind nip at his cheeks. The city stretched out before them like a puzzle box waiting to be opened, streets glowing with lantern-light, rooftops dusted in pale gold and silver. Smoke curled into the sky, carrying hints of charcoal and promise.
¡°Come on,¡± Marcus said, breaking the silence. A confident grin split his face. ¡°Unless you fancy sleeping out here. Personally, I¡¯d like to get lodging before all the good rooms are taken.¡±
Jace couldn¡¯t disagree. He fell into step, the crunch of snow beneath their boots a steady companion to his circling thoughts. Other students jostled by, some laughing, some fretting, the air filled with swirling voices. The lanterns along the path flickered welcomingly against the encroaching twilight.
At the crest of the hill, Jace paused to glance back. The portals flickered faintly, their glow dimming as the last of new arrivals moved on. He wondered who that woman was, and if their paths would cross again. Then he turned to follow his friends down the slope, his boots biting into frost that had yet to yield to daylight. The chill settled through his coat as if testing his resolve, reminding him that no warmth was free and no journey certain.
He pressed on, each footstep carrying him closer to whatever waited in that vast, glittering city beneath a sky broken in half.
Chapter Fifteen: Under the Quiet
Chapter Fifteen: Under the Quiet
As they walked, Alice¡¯s voice carried as if the winter air itself hushed to listen.
¡°The Stronghold is divided into four concentric districts. The outermost is the Farmer¡¯s Circle¡ªthat¡¯s where we are.¡±
Fields and lean homesteads huddled beneath a trembling veil of snow.
¡°Further inward lies the Commoners Circle, where narrow lanes and cramped houses press close together. Beyond that, the Merchant¡¯s Circle unfurls its busy sprawl of shops and inns, hot bread and iron tools, bargains shared over counters. And at the very heart stands the Inner Circle, all marble facades and crafted archways, crowned by the Tower¡¯s shadow. Nobles dwell there when the games lure them in, and the city¡¯s governance breathes beneath that stone spine.¡±
When Alice paused, her companions exchanged glances. Ell narrowed her eyes. ¡°Uh, Alice?¡±
¡°Yeah?¡±
¡°You sound like you¡¯re reading straight out of a book.¡±
Alice blinked. ¡°Oh, I am. Well, kind of. I read it in a book, and now I¡¯m just¡ repeating it.¡±
They turned to her, brows raised in collective disbelief.
¡°What?¡± she asked, tilting her head.
¡°How do you remember all that? Word for word?¡± Marcus finally asked.
A faint smile played on Alice¡¯s lips, her voice calm but tinged with pride. ¡°A recent upgrade to my abilities,¡± she explained. ¡°Anything I read just sort of sticks¡ªperfectly. The memory comes back to me whole, exact, even if I just skimmed it once.¡±
Ell raised an eyebrow, Molly let out a slow, impressed breath, and Jace gave a quiet nod.
They continued along the path and snow crunched beneath their boots. As they ventured deeper, the snug outlines of distant farmhouses blurred and bent like ink spilled into water. As they entered the Common Circle, Jace noticed that the houses were indeed pressed tightly together, huddled like shivering figures seeking warmth. He narrowed his eyes, sensing something quiver at the rim of his vision¡ªan oily shimmer along the rooftops, a twitch in the crisp winter light.
Then it cracked.
A faint thrum pulsed against the inside of his skull. Transparent script flared before him, icy letters etched in the air.
System Notification
Word of Power Activated¡ªTruth.
Illusion Broken: [Glamor]
In that instant, the painted picture of prosperity peeled back. Snow-laden eaves sagged, shingles stripped of their neat illusions. Pale fences, once sharp and white, showed rot and splintered boards. Doors hung crooked, their hinges rusted. The scent of damp wood and stale wind replaced the imagined coziness, pressing against his senses.
¡°Um, guys?¡± Jace spoke low, almost a hush. He reached out, not quite touching the warped planks of a nearby wall. His companions turned, confusion knitting their brows until they too flinched, as though waking from a sweet dream into a sour dawn. Molly¡¯s mouth set in a grim line. Dex stiffened, shoulders tight. Marcus let a bitter grunt slip past his teeth, mumbling about how it¡¯s always the same: a polished front masking a rotten core.
A movement at the corner of Jace¡¯s eye drew him closer¡ªa window, its glass smeared with grime. Behind it hovered a small face, eyes large and hollow, cheeks grayed with soot and hunger. The child trembled, breath steaming the pane. Molly inhaled sharply. Jace swallowed, words tangling in his throat.
Alice stepped forward, shoulders squared against the chill. She knocked lightly, the sound too hollow, as if knocking on an old coffin. Inside, silence churned. Marcus shifted his weight, impatient and distant. Alice knocked again. A second¡¯s pause, then the door cracked open just enough to reveal stale darkness beyond.
The boy¡¯s face hovered in the gloom, eyes hollow with hunger, his skin pale and smudged with grime. The stale air drifting from the doorway smelled of damp rot and old straw, wrapping around them like a faint plea for help. Alice knelt, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she feared even the smallest gesture might frighten him back into the shadows.
¡°Hello, little one,¡± she said softly, her voice careful not to disturb the fragile silence.
The boy didn¡¯t answer, only shrank back slightly, his thin frame trembling. His eyes darted toward the street beyond them, wary of unseen watchers. When Alice asked if his parents were home, he shook his head, the movement quick and mechanical, as if it had been repeated many times. There were no tears¡ªjust a quiet resignation that spoke of lessons learned too young, that tears didn¡¯t bring warmth, comfort, or safety.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Alice said gently. ¡°Are you cold?¡±
The boy finally spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper, brittle and thin. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to talk to outsiders,¡± he said, his hands curling into fists against the tattered fabric of his shirt. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ªI shouldn¡¯t have¡ª¡°
¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± Alice interrupted softly, her tone soothing. ¡°Who told you that?¡±
The boy hesitated, then shook his head again. The weight of his silence hung heavier than any words could have.
Behind her, Ell stepped forward, slipping off her coat. For a moment, its inner lining caught the light, faint runes etched along the seams glowing softly, promising the warmth it carried. She held it out toward the boy, who eyed it like a forbidden relic. His hands twitched at his sides, but he made no move to take it.
¡°It¡¯s for you,¡± Ell said firmly, nudging it closer. ¡°It¡¯ll keep you warm.¡±
¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he murmured, shrinking back. ¡°I¡¯ll get in trouble.¡±
¡°You won¡¯t,¡± she said, her tone brooking no argument. ¡°Take it. Please. If you don¡¯t, I¡¯ll feel insulted.¡±
He studier her then and seemed to weigh each impossible option in his mind. Finally, he reached out, his fingers hesitant as they brushed the fabric. He clutched the oversized coat tightly to his chest, his face tilting down as if to hide from their kindness.
Jace¡¯s gaze lingered on the shadows beyond the boy, where another pair of eyes glimmered faintly in the dim light. Smaller, rounder¡ªlikely a little sister, watching silently from the deeper gloom of the house.
Before he could retreat further, Jace stepped forward, reaching into his ¡°absolutely-not-a-fanny-pack¡± dimensional inventory. He pulled out a small crate of food, carefully packaged and infused with his Flavor Saver potion. The scents of warm bread, spiced meat, and sweet pastries filled the air as he set it on the ground between them.
¡°This is for you too,¡± Jace said. ¡°It¡¯s enough to last several days.¡±
The boy froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. ¡°I can¡¯t take that,¡± he stammered, stepping back. ¡°It¡¯s¡ it¡¯s too much.¡±
¡°Not just for you,¡± Jace said firmly. ¡°Share with your family and friends.¡±
Something in Jace¡¯s tone broke through the boy¡¯s resistance. He hesitated, then reached for the first package, tearing it open with trembling hands. He took a bite and froze, his eyes lighting up with wonder. ¡°This¡ this tastes like royalty food.¡± He looked up at them, his gaze filled with cautious awe. ¡°Are you princes? Princesses?¡±
Alice knelt again, a faint smile on her lips. ¡°No, just visiting the town for the Games.¡±
The boy looked down, his small hands clutching the food tightly.
¡°Are there others like you? Cold? Hungry?¡± Ell asked.
¡°Yes,¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible. ¡°But they won¡¯t talk to you. They¡ we¡¯re not supposed to¡ not supposed to talk to outsiders.¡± His voice dropped lower, his gaze darting nervously to the street. ¡°If they find out¡ if she finds out¡¡° He trailed off, his face tight with fear.
¡°She?¡± Alice pressed gently. ¡°Who is she?¡±
The boy shook his head, refusing to answer. He stepped back toward the door, his movements quick and skittish. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Please, don¡¯t tell anyone I spoke to you. Outsiders are dangerous. That¡¯s what she says. That¡¯s what they all say.¡±
¡°Who said that?¡± Ell asked, her voice calm but firm.
The boy glanced at her, his mouth opening as if to speak, but then he seemed to think better of it. ¡°I¡ I have to go. Please.¡±
Before they could say another word, he slipped back inside, clutching the coat and food to his chest like fragile treasures. The door creaked shut, the soft click of the latch the only sound in the stillness. It felt impossibly thin, that door, separating their world from his. For a long moment, none of them spoke.
Snow swirled around them, the flurries filling the silence with a soft, insistent white noise. From somewhere in the distance came a faint sound¡ªa shout or perhaps a cry¡ªdrifting through the maze of alleyways, too far away to place. Molly¡¯s jaw tightened, her usually calm demeanor showing cracks of unease. Marcus stared at the crooked rooftops.
Jace¡¯s hand hovered near the door, fingers brushing the cold wood as though contemplating a second knock. The child¡¯s face lingered in his mind, etched with the kind of fear and resignation he thought he¡¯d left behind when he escaped his own fractured world. The scene stirred something deep within him¡ªa memory of himself as a boy, in a place where famine and poverty were everyday realities. He had hoped Terra Mythica would be different. He had believed it would be different. But he knew better now. Every world had its players, its systems, its flaws.
Still, this felt¡ wrong. He couldn¡¯t settle it in his mind. Back on Earth, they had explanations. The War. The radiation dust killing the crops. A thousand other reasons to point to. But here? Magic flowed freely, abundant and powerful. Food should have been plentiful. Warmth easy to conjure. The boy¡¯s parents¡ªwhere were they? Why weren¡¯t they able to care for him and his sister?
He and his friends exchanged a silent look, the weight of what they had seen settling heavily between them. No words were needed; in that shared glance, Jace knew they had all made the same decision¡ªsomething had to be done. Even Dex, usually the first to deflect with an easy quip, had a strange, pained look in his eyes¡ªhis usual confidence cracked. Whatever was happening here, it wouldn¡¯t be ignored.
Jace¡¯s stomach churned as the realization solidified. Something was rotten beneath the surface of this town, hidden behind its glamor and illusions. Whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t natural. It wasn¡¯t right. He decided then and there, staring at the closed door, that he wouldn¡¯t let it go. Something was happening here, and he would find out what.
They turned inward, eyes drawn to the heart of the Stronghold where towers speared the sky.
Something old and hungry pulsed beneath these streets, beyond illusions and the polite veneers of civility. The quiet that followed the discovery of the boy¡¯s plight pressed on them, laden with unspoken questions. Far ahead, beyond the city¡¯s concentric circles, darker trials waited, coiled like serpents ready to strike at the unwary. As they walked on, the wind whispered an unsettling truth: something had to be done.
Their boots scuffed against the uneven cobblestones, sending thin flakes of old snow spiraling into crooked gutters. Without the illusion¡¯s soothing hush, the Common Circle revealed its raw edges: sagging doorframes, shutters hanging on a single hinge, and footprints etched deep into grime. Behind dirt-streaked windows, eyes gleamed with silent curiosity. A trembling hand hovered at a pane¡¯s edge before vanishing into shadow. Jace¡¯s ears caught the faint rasp of coughing, the hushed whispers scurrying away like frightened mice. His chest tightened.
¡°How can anyone live like this?¡± he murmured, his voice low, as if afraid the city¡¯s wounds might hear him. "Where are their parents? Their king?"
"The city has no king," Alice replied softly, her tone threaded with restraint. "Not since the fall. It¡¯s ruled by a Regent¡ªa man named Koren Klaventaire. A commoner, chosen precisely for his lack of allegiance to any kingdom. He¡¯s held power since the Stronghold was reclaimed from the Dark One and the Tower was taken back."
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
Jace shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s not doing a very good job. Does he even know people are starving under his rule?¡±
No one answered.
Chapter Sixteen: A Little Luxury
Chapter Sixteen: A Little Luxury
The world felt suddenly colder then, and it gnawed at Jace¡¯s skin as he stepped forward, boots crunching against ice-crusted snow. It wasn¡¯t the kind of cold that merely stung the skin, fleeting and sharp. No, this cold was alive, burrowing deep and taking root in the marrow. Each breath of the frigid air clawed at his throat, as if the very world sought to tear something vital from him.
A few strides farther, the chill began to abate¡ªnot because of the cloud covered sun, but by something deliberate, unnatural. Heat shimmered faintly ahead, radiating from wrought-iron posts adorned with ruby-red crystals. Their light spilled across the cobblestones, polished to a sheen that reflected the strange glow like blood smeared on glass. Where the snow met this warmth, it melted into thin rivulets, the water tracing jagged lines through the street before vanishing into unseen drains. The mingling of frost and heat left the air heavy with steam, curling and shifting like a living thing.
Massive gates loomed ahead, separating the Commoners¡¯ Circle from the Merchant¡¯s Circle. As they stepped through, a faint ripple of energy washed over them, the force field shimmering briefly before letting them pass. The sensation was disorienting, like slipping through a soap bubble, and they emerged on the other side into a different world.
The protective dome surrounding the Sapphire Tower stretched high above, its translucent sheen catching faint glimmers of starlight. The tower itself rose impossibly tall, piercing the sky like a blade of glass, its surface reflecting the faintest hints of blue and silver. To the west and north, shadows pooled on the horizon, the encroaching darkness broken only by faint pinpricks of light.
Far in the distance, music drifted through the air¡ªa haunting, lilting melody mingled with bursts of faint laughter and distant noise. Jace strained to pinpoint its source, but it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, an echo of merriment that felt oddly out of reach.
¡°The Inn District,¡± Alice explained, gesturing to the bustling streets ahead, ¡°is the outermost layer of the Merchants¡¯ Circle. This whole Stronghold is built like an onion¡ªrings within rings, each layer folding into the next.¡±
Her voice carried a touch of awe as they moved deeper into the district, the intricate design of the Stronghold unfolding around them. Layers upon layers, each with its own purpose, its own secrets, all spiraling inward toward the heart of the Sapphire Tower. The music in the distance grew louder as they walked.
¡°What¡¯s that music?¡± Molly asked, tilting her head toward the distant melody.
¡°A distraction,¡± Marcus said flatly.
Alice ignored him and answered, her tone slipping into that of a seasoned tour guide. ¡°That¡¯s the Winter Games Fair. It¡¯s a tradition before the Games¡ªa way to keep everyone entertained while the competitors prepare for the Tower.¡±
She paused for dramatic effect, glancing at each of them before continuing. ¡°We¡¯ve got one more day of it, then tomorrow night is the Welcome Ceremony. The morning after that, we enter the Tower. After the climb, when contestants exit, they tell stories about what happened inside. Recording crystals aren¡¯t allowed¡ªthey¡¯re not soul-bound, so they can¡¯t bring them in. Instead, the outsiders have to rely on the stories, and illusion mages try to recreate what the entrants describe. It¡¯s incredible to watch.¡±
Jace raised an eyebrow. ¡°I know you said you¡¯ve read all about this, but¡ where, exactly?¡±
Alice grinned, reaching into the air with a practiced motion. A shimmer of light appeared as she pulled a massive, ornate tome from her inventory. The cover was an explosion of color and intricate designs, glowing faintly with enchantments. She held it up proudly. ¡°A Complete History of the Winter Games,¡± she announced with a flourish, as if unveiling a treasure.
It unfolded like an oasis of luxury amidst the city¡¯s rising warmth. Cobblestone streets gave way to polished paths, bordered by palm-like trees that swayed gently despite the lack of wind. Enchanted lanterns glowed with soft, golden light, casting a welcoming shimmer across the fa?ade of a sprawling resort. A sign hung above the entrance, glowing faintly: Travelers Welcome.
Jace eyed the sign with a faint furrow in his brow. The message was clear, but it left him wondering what policies other places in the city might hold toward outsiders. The thought lingered as they approached the grand double doors, which opened with a quiet, magical hum.
Inside, the air was cool and fragrant, perfumed with something that reminded Jace of citrus and freshly turned soil. The lobby was a masterpiece of enchanted architecture¡ªcrystal fixtures floated gently in the air, casting prismatic light across smooth marble floors. Soft carpets muffled their footsteps as they took in the scene: lounging chairs that seemed to adjust their shapes as guests sat, fountains that shimmered with golden water, and an indoor pond surrounded by glowing lilies.
Dex let out a low whistle, his eyes gleaming. ¡°Now this is more like it,¡± he said, grinning as he took in the opulent surroundings. ¡°Alright, Ell and I already spoke about this and we are covering the rooms. The guys can bunk together¡ªme, Jace, and Marcus¡ªand the girls get their own.¡±
The girls exchanged glances before nodding, though Alice hesitated for a moment. Her gaze flicked toward Jace, lingered briefly, then darted away, her expression unreadable. ¡°Sure,¡± she murmured, her voice quieter than usual.
¡°I don¡¯t share,¡± Marcus declared, folding his arms with finality.
Dex rolled his eyes but didn¡¯t bother to argue, waving him off with a lazy gesture. ¡°Suit yourself, but I¡¯m not footing the bill.¡±
Marcus snorted. ¡°As if I¡¯d take money from you. Please.¡± With that, he stalked off toward the receptionist, leaving the others in his wake.
Dex sighed and turned to Jace with a shrug. ¡°Guess it¡¯s just you and me, then. That good with you, Jace?¡±
Jace held up a hand. ¡°Yeah, except for one thing. I¡¯ll cover the rooms.¡± Before anyone could object, he flashed a grin and added, ¡°Consider it my treat¡ªthanks to some unexpected winnings.¡±
Dex raised a brow but shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m won¡¯t complain. Ell?¡±
She nodded approval.
By the time they reached the receptionist, Marcus was already striding off, a bellhop trailing behind him with a key in hand¡ªwhich was entirely unnecessary, considering he had no luggage. Even if he did, it would all be neatly stored in his inventory.
The receptionist looked up as Jace approached, her serene smile welcoming but professional. The faintly glowing quill beside her continued jotting notes on its own, pausing briefly as if aware of the shift in attention.
¡°Good morning,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°Welcome to the Lost Oasis of Roandia. How can I assist you?¡±
¡°Um, yeah, we need rooms?¡± The words came out as a question. He glanced back at his group before meeting her gaze again. ¡°Two should do¡ªone with three beds for the girls, and another with two for us.¡±
She nodded, her smile unwavering. ¡°Of course. Standard accommodations, or were you looking for something a bit more¡ refined?¡± Her eyes flickered briefly over the group, assessing their travel-worn appearances but saying nothing.
¡°Standard is fine,¡± Jace said quickly, then hesitated, glancing toward Dex and Ell. ¡°Unless the others have something to say about it.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Dex leaned casually against the counter, flashing the receptionist his most winsome smile. To which, Jace noted, she appeared entirely impervious. ¡°Well, what are the options?¡±
¡°That, sir, depends on your desired budget,¡± she replied smoothly, her tone as polished as her appearance. ¡°Might I ask how much you¡¯ve allocated for your accommodations during this stay?¡±
Dex nudged Jace lightly with his elbow, leaning in to whisper, ¡°If it¡¯s too much, I¡¯ll chip in.¡±
Jace rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he reached into his pocket. Fishing out a coin, he placed it on the counter with a soft clink. The heavy gleam of Etherium caught the light, and for a moment, the receptionist¡¯s serene expression wavered, her eyes widening just slightly before she quickly masked her reaction.
¡°I see¡± she said softly, her voice just a touch lower. Her hand hovered over the coin before picking it up delicately, turning it slightly in the light. She cleared her throat, the flicker of emotion gone as quickly as it had come. ¡°Let me provide you with change¡ªit¡¯s far too large a denomination for standard rooms.¡±
¡°Uh, sure,¡± Jace said, watching her slide the coin into a crystal slot embedded in the counter.
The device emitted a soft chime as smaller platinum coins cascaded into a compartment. With practiced efficiency, the receptionist gathered the coins, stacking them neatly before slipping them into ten polished wax-sealed tubes. Jace couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the device also checked for forgeries¡ªan idea seemingly confirmed by the faint flicker of satisfaction in her eyes as the coins emerged. Sliding the tubes across the counter, she offered a polite, professional nod.
¡°With this,¡± she began, sliding one of the ten platinum tubes toward her, ¡°you could enjoy two of our standard but more than adequate suites for the duration of the Games.¡± Her tone was warm, smooth, and persuasive.
Then, with a deliberate pause, she pulled two more tubes toward her slowly, her voice dropping to a near reverent whisper. ¡°But with these¡¡± Her fingers brushed the polished gold, and her smile softened into something almost conspiratorial.
¡°You can have two adjoining top-tier suites. Private baths and access to a luxury spa, the finest enchanted furnishings, full wardrobe restoration for your entire stay, enhanced sleeping quarters imbued with restfulness charms, and even personalized magical services.¡±
She paused just long enough to let the promise of indulgence linger. ¡°It¡¯s an experience unlike any other. And, as the saying goes, a little luxury goes a long way.¡±
Jace hesitated, glancing back at his group, then down at the gleaming pile of coins.
Alice placed a hand gently on his arm, her expression cautious. ¡°Jace, we don¡¯t need all that. The standard rooms are fine.¡±
Her words gave him pause, but then his mind drifted back to what he knew about her¡ªhow she¡¯d grown up not so differently from him, scraping by where luxury was a distant fantasy. It was wasteful, sure. But as impractical as it seemed, he wanted her to have this¡ªa rare, bright spot in what had been a tough journey for all of them.
¡°Alright,¡± Jace said, sliding the three stacks of coins the rest of the way across the counter¡ªvanishing the others into his inventory. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±
The receptionist¡¯s smile widened ever so slightly, her hands already reaching for an enchanted key that pulsed with a deep, royal blue glow. The intricate carvings on its surface shimmered faintly as she handed it to him. ¡°An excellent choice. You¡¯ll find the suites unmatched in both comfort and privacy.¡±
Jace sighed, tucking the key into his pocket as the receptionist inclined her head. ¡°Enjoy your stay, Master Jace.¡±
As he turned to rejoin the group, the weight of the enchanted key felt oddly heavy in his pocket.
As they ascended the grand staircase, the lavish details of the resort revealed themselves further: enchanted windows that displayed shifting landscapes, even though the real view outside was the city streets; corridors that adjusted their lighting based on the time of day; and magical runes embedded into the floors that guided them effortlessly to their rooms.
Dex and Jace stepped into their shared suite, and even the sight of it made Jace pause. The room was enormous, with a high-domed ceiling painted with moving constellations. A crystal-clear pond rippled gently at the far end, its waters shimmering with faint magical hues. The furniture¡ªplush chairs, a wide bed, and a chaise lounge¡ªseemed to beckon them into comfort. Even the air smelled faintly of salt and flowers.
Jace chuckled softly, shaking his head. The day¡¯s events still pressed against him, but the warmth of the room dulled the edges. As he glanced toward the softly glowing runes lining the walls, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the next day would bring.
Their room was the epitome of luxury made magical. The pool pond at the far end rippled faintly, its surface reflecting hues of soft blue and gold as if catching sunlight that wasn¡¯t there. Warmth radiated from the walls, adjusting the temperature with a near-sentient precision that made the air feel like a perfect spring afternoon.
Crystal globes hung from the ceiling, humming softly with gentle light, their glow shifting in rhythm with the room¡¯s ambiance. The windows displayed a serene oasis, palm trees swaying under a painted sunset that shifted as if alive. Jace approached one and touched the pane, half-expecting to feel the breeze of the illusion, though only the faint warmth of the glass met his fingertips. The linens, soft as a whisper, carried a faint scent of lavender, their magic ensuring they were never too cool or warm.
A faint chime resonated from the pond, drawing their attention. Dex jumped to his feet, his grin lighting up like a kid who¡¯d just found treasure. ¡°Oh, a Telepond! I¡¯ve heard of these!¡±
He approached the shimmering water, spotting a small basin of smooth pebbles resting nearby. Grabbing one, he flicked it effortlessly into the pond. The surface rippled outward, shimmering with a soft, iridescent glow. Then, the water began to rise, twisting and reforming until a lithe figure took shape¡ªa translucent, blue-tinted version of Ell.
¡°Sup, Ell!¡± Dex called, clearly enjoying the novelty.
Ell¡¯s watery likeness placed her hands on her hips, her features exuding the same exasperated charm she carried in real life. ¡°Jace, Dex¡ this room¡¡±
Before she could finish, another figure shimmered into existence beside her¡ªa playful, water-formed version of Molly. Her laughter bubbled through the connection as she leaned in. ¡°Is delightful.¡±
Then Water-Molly vanished, stepping back as Water-Alice appeared, her form materializing with the same crystalline glow. Her soft smile carried warmth even through the enchanted medium. ¡°Thank you, Jace,¡± she said, her voice quiet but heartfelt. The sincerity in her tone hit him squarely, her gratitude warming him in a way the room¡¯s opulence never could.
But the moment of serenity didn¡¯t last. Out of nowhere, a pillow sailed through the air, visible even in shimmering water form, and smacked Alice squarely in the face. Her watery reflection rippled as she froze, blinking in surprise.
Molly appeared behind them, doubled over laughing. ¡°Oh, that was perfect!¡± she crowed, clearly pleased with her aim.
Alice steadied herself, reaching for her own pillow with mock solemnity. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s on now,¡± she declared, her voice dripping with playful menace.
¡°Children, both of you,¡± Ell chided.
The pond reflected the chaos as the two launched into a full-blown pillow fight, their laughter bubbling through the enchanted connection.
Ell turned sharply, her hands on her hips, her shimmering form exuding exasperation. ¡°Really? A pillow fight? Could you two be any more stereotypical? What are you, teenagers?¡±
Alice smirked, brushing her hair out of her watery eyes. ¡°Technically¡ still am. Got a few months left, so I¡¯m going to enjoy it while I can.¡±
Before Ell could respond, a pillow hit her squarely in the side of the head, sending her reflection rippling. She froze, glaring at Molly and Alice, who were both trying¡ªand failing¡ªnot to burst into laughter.
¡°Oh, very mature,¡± she deadpanned, though her tone was light. Another pillow flew at her, but this one she dodged.
¡°Alright, that¡¯s it!¡± Ell shouted, grabbing a pillow of her own. She launched it at Molly, who shrieked and retaliated. Chaos erupted as all three joined the fray, their laughter echoing through the pond¡¯s enchanted surface.
The water began to shimmer as the connection started to break, their figures dissolving into ripples with every swing and shout. Just as Ell landed a satisfying hit on Molly, the final flicker of light vanished, leaving the pond still and silent once more.
Dex let out a low whistle. ¡°Okay, I definitely need one of these ponds in my dorm.¡±
Jace shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. ¡°Yeah,¡± he murmured, the warmth of their laughter still lingering in his chest. ¡°Me too.¡±
Jace chuckled softly, pulling off his cloak and draping it over a chair. The tension from the day¡¯s events still clung to him, but the comfort of the room dulled its edges. He sank into one of the plush chairs.
Dex propped himself up on his elbows, his grin turning sly. ¡°So,¡± he started, dragging the word out. ¡°What¡¯s up with you and Alice? Is that ever going to happen?¡±
Jace froze, the question hitting harder than he¡¯d expected. His face flushed as he feigned confusion. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
Dex sat up, pointing at him with exaggerated offense. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t pull that. You know what I mean. You two have been dancing around each other since, well, forever. It¡¯s like watching two swords try to figure out how to hug.¡±
Jace rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Dex¡¯s gaze. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡±
Dex snorted, leaning back against the bedframe. ¡°Right. Sure. For someone who¡¯s all about truth, you¡¯re not exactly honest with yourself, are you?¡±
Jace sighed, letting the conversation drop. Dex didn¡¯t press the issue, but his smirk lingered like an unspoken dare. The room¡¯s warmth seemed heavier now, the enchanted lights casting longer shadows as Jace leaned back and stared at the illusion of the distant oasis, his thoughts drifting farther than the horizon.
They all agreed to regroup later, once they¡¯d had time to settle in and shake off the journey. With another full day to explore before the grand welcome ceremony the following evening, the festival beckoned.
Chapter Seventeen: The Winter Games
Chapter Seventeen: The Winter Games
A few hours later, they gathered near the entrance to the carnival, the air buzzing with energy. The afternoon sun bathed everything in a golden glow, casting warm light across their faces as they stood together, each bringing their own distinct flair to the scene.
Jace lingered at the edge of the group, his dark cloak shifting subtly in the light, its enchanted threads catching the shadows like smoke in motion. Beneath it, his charcoal tunic fit snugly, blending into his scuffed, practical boots. The faint glow of his White Raven ring flickered as he adjusted the edge of his cloak, his gaze scanning the horizon like a sentinel who couldn¡¯t fully let his guard down.
Alice had clearly embraced the occasion, her flowing sapphire dress shimmering like liquid starlight under the lanterns. Her hair, swept into a loose braid, glittered with tiny silver charms etched with delicate runes. She held a small satchel at her side that was more ornament than necessity, given that they all had inventories. She was¡ stunning.
Ell strutted forward, her boots striking the cobblestones with a confidence that bordered on defiance. Her sleeveless, wine-red tunic, trimmed with gold, clung to her frame, the hilt of a dagger peeking from her belt. A braid, threaded with copper wire, swung behind her as she flashed a grin at Marcus.
Marcus, by contrast, was the picture of understated elegance. His sleek black coat hung neatly over a dark green high-collared shirt, the silver buttons catching just enough light to gleam. His boots, polished to a mirror sheen, clicked softly as he walked, his usual skeptical expression softened slightly by the carnival¡¯s festive air.
Molly twirled in place, her layered skirt of teal and gold flaring around her legs. She¡¯d wrapped a black scarf of gossamer fabric around her neck, its ends fluttering behind her like tiny banners. Jeweled star-shaped clips dotted her pinned curls, catching the light with every laugh and bounce in her step.
Dex shifted awkwardly, pulling at the hem of his well-fitted brown jacket leather as if trying to keep it from wrinkling. His boots were scuffed from overuse, but the care he¡¯d put into the rest of his outfit was obvious, even if he looked unsure about it.
As they approached the carnival, their senses were overwhelmed by a chaotic symphony of sights, sounds, and scents. Jace slowed, his steps faltering as his gaze swept over the surreal scene before them. They stood just beyond a towering archway that marked the entrance to the next layer of the Merchants¡¯ Circle, its intricate carvings glowing faintly in the lantern light, as if alive with some quiet magic.
From their vantage point, the Merchant¡¯s Circle had become a tapestry of enchantment. Vibrant lanterns floated in midair, their glowing hues of ruby and sapphire casting dancing patterns across the cobblestone streets below. Strings of lights looped between towering wrought-iron posts, their golden orbs flickering like captive stars. The air shimmered with an almost tangible warmth, carrying with it the mingling scents of spiced pastries, roasted meats, and something floral and sweet¡ªexotic and unplaceable.
Laughter rippled like music, rising and falling in waves, punctuated by the occasional cheer. Crowds moved in a rhythmic dance, weaving through stalls draped in shimmering silks and banners painted with celestial motifs. The sounds were a cacophony that somehow didn¡¯t overwhelm: the cheerful clinking of coins, and the occasional shout of a vendor hawking wares. At one corner, a juggler tossed flaming torches that left trails of sparkling fire in their wake, while on another, a troupe of instruments hovered in midair, their strings plucked and keys pressed by unseen hands. The notes shimmered as they rose, sparkling like sunlight dancing across a rippling stream, the melody weaving an otherworldly harmony that bound the tapestry of sights and smells together, coalescing into a sort of living thing.
Stepping close to the gates, they could see the glint of gold and jewels from wares displayed on ornate tables, guarded by merchants whose bright smiles seemed genuine but felt faintly off, like masks that refused to slip. Towering over the scene, a mechanical dragon roared, its brass scales catching the light as it moved in synchronized grace, spilling plumes of harmless, glowing smoke over the delighted crowd.
The entire district pulsed with life, its festivities so vibrant and alluring that it felt like reality had taken a step sideways into a dream. Yet, from where they stood, the faintest dissonance prickled¡ªsomething just beyond the surface, unseen but felt, like a distant chord that was slightly out of tune.
There was something wrong about it all, though he couldn¡¯t quite place why. The warmth wasn¡¯t comforting; it was suffocating, like stepping into a predator¡¯s lair where the trap had already been sprung. The air smelled of cinnamon, clove, and something richer, darker. Sweet, yes, but with an edge that teased the faintest hint of decay.
Behind him, Molly exhaled sharply, her breath forming one last ghostly wisp before dissolving into the warmer air. ¡°What is this place?¡± she murmured, her voice filled with wary wonder.
¡°This is the Merchant¡¯s Circle,¡± Alice said, her voice soft and tinged with awe. ¡°They transform it into the outer rings of celebration before the contestants take on the tower.¡±
Despite his unease, Jace couldn¡¯t deny the pull of the place. It was as if the glowing crystals and the glistening streets whispered directly to his bones, urging him forward.
¡°It¡¯s incredible,¡± Dex declared, already striding ahead. His boots made no sound against the cobblestones, his confidence as unwavering as the grin he wore. He spun around to face them, walking backward with ease. ¡°Come on!¡±
Marcus hesitated, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, as his gaze flicked warily to the towering gates ahead.
Arches were adorned with more ruby-lit crystals. A banner fluttered above, its silken fabric catching the light and scattering it in dazzling patterns. The words upon it twisted and shifted, symbols rearranging themselves until Jace¡¯s mind made sense of them:
Welcome All to the Winter Games.
Beyond the gates, the world burst into riotous color and sound. Strings of enchanted lights looped between towering poles, casting amber and gold patterns over bustling streets. Vendors called out their wares, their voices a blend of cheer and practiced charm. The air was thick with the scent of roasting meats, spiced pastries, and something sweeter still, all combining in a heady mix that tugged at the edges of reason.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
¡°Just look at this place.¡± Dex gestured grandly, spinning again to face the spectacle. ¡°Amazing.¡±
Jace lingered at the edge of the gates, his unease sharpening. The perfection of it all¡ªthe laughter that never faltered, the warmth that never wavered¡ªfelt too polished, too precise. It was a picture painted to beguile, not to reassure. Yet, against his better judgment, he stepped forward, the pull of the place tugging at something deep within him.
They stepped into the world of colors, its vibrant lights and warm laughter enveloping them like a welcoming embrace. For a brief moment, Jace felt a prickle of unease crawl up his spine, sharp and insistent¡ªbut then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. In its place, a strange, pleasant fog settled over his thoughts, leaving him oddly content yet vaguely adrift, as though some important worry had been quietly swept away, leaving only the faintest whisper of its absence.
He heard it then¡ªno, heard wasn¡¯t right.
Look.
It was not a voice, but something deeper, more primal. A vibration thrumming at the edges of his awareness. It bypassed sound entirely and resonated straight into his core. Instinctively, he checked his HUD, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he searched for any sign of status effects or updates. Nothing. No alerts, no warnings. Just the strange persistent feeling.
Look.
A single word. Not spoken, not thought, but impressed upon him, heavy with meaning and yet maddeningly vague.
What did it mean?
His gaze dropped to his ring, and he caught the faintest pulse of energy from the White Raven. It thrummed softly, still siphoning fragments of his aether as it healed itself, its final awakening growing ever closer¡ªjust under seven percent left. The hum grew stronger, a subtle rhythm beneath his skin, almost a heartbeat. He did some mental math and estimated it wouldn¡¯t be more than a week, at the current rate.
He saw that his Truthsense was active in his HUD, a tiny glowing symbol indicating it was working. It reached out to the world, and it felt like squinting through a fog. The connection wavered, faltering like static on a broken signal. He concentrated harder, feeling it struggle against something unseen, something just out of reach. Whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t letting him through.
It felt like a thousand tiny lights were blinding his Truthsense, all coming from different places.
As they moved deeper into the festival, the chaos of color and sound grew almost overwhelming. Strings of lights looped between tall poles, weaving intricate patterns of amber and gold that cast a warm, flickering glow over the cobbled streets. Banners of every imaginable color rippled in the soft breeze, their edges catching the light like jeweled waves.
And then, the smell¡ªrich, layered, intoxicating. Roasted nuts coated in something sweet and sticky. Pastries filled with spices that tickled the nose and promised warmth. Meats sizzling on open flames, their juices dripping onto enchanted coals that hissed with fragrant smoke. Jace felt his stomach twist in longing despite himself.
Marcus stood beside him, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his face locked in its usual judging frown. ¡°It¡¯s an illusion,¡± he said flatly, his eyes scanning the cheerful chaos. ¡°Probably enchanted to look better than it is.¡±
¡°Maybe,¡± Ell replied, grinning as she stepped past him, ¡°but who cares? It¡¯s amazing.¡± She darted ahead, her boots barely making a sound on the cobblestones as she weaved through the crowd with the effortless grace of someone who belonged wherever she landed.
Alice trailed after her, her pace slower and more deliberate. Her eyes lingered on a stall to their right, its shelves stacked high with glimmering trinkets that seemed to shimmer and shift as if alive. Molly followed at her heels, her laughter light and carefree as her black scarf fluttered behind her like a banner.
Jace¡¯s stomach tightened with unease. The warmth, the laughter, the lights¡ªit was all too polished, too precise. A carnival plucked from a dream, or worse, something meant to distract.
The first stall they approached was a ring toss game, deceptively simple in appearance. Wooden poles of varying heights jutted from a polished platform, each adorned with colorful prizes that sparkled in the warm glow of the heat crystals. A stuffed griffon perched on one pole, its beady eyes gleaming, while a delicate golden orb rested precariously on another. A stuffed wolf pup with silvery fur and tiny embroidered fangs sat coiled on one pole, its eyes glinting with a mischievous spark, while a miniature golden and plush ankh dangled from another.
The stall owner, a plump man with a face that seemed permanently fixed in a beaming smile, spread his arms wide as they approached. His apron was dusted with flour, or perhaps glitter¡ªJace couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°Step right up! Test your aim and win a prize! Only the bold and the skilled prevail!¡± His voice carried with practiced charm, his hand gesturing to a pile of rings polished to a mirror shine.
Ell stepped forward immediately, digging into her inventory, pulling a silver piece from out of the air and slapping it down onto the counter. ¡°Three rings,¡± she said, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the setup like a hunter sizing up her prey.
The man handed her the rings with an exaggerated flourish, as if bestowing a great honor. ¡°Good luck, miss. Aim true! Fortune favors the daring.¡±
Alice leaned casually against the counter beside her, a smirk playing on her lips. ¡°Bet you can¡¯t hit three in a row.¡±
Ell shot her a sidelong glance, her grin curling with confidence. ¡°Watch and learn, my doubting friend.¡±
¡°You¡¯re a bunch of children throwing your money away,¡± Marcus said, as he watched them with an expression of pure disdain. ¡°These games are always rigged, you know.¡±
Ell¡¯s first toss was smooth as silk, the ring arcing gracefully through the air¡ªuntil it wasn¡¯t. It clanged off the pole, just shy of the mark, and hit the ground with a hollow clatter. Her grin faltered, though only for a heartbeat. The second throw was worse, veering wide enough to draw an exaggerated wince from Marcus. Ell¡¯s jaw tightened.
Jace¡¯s Truthsense chose that moment to flicker to life, carving faint patterns in the air before his eyes. He saw it then¡ªa subtle shimmer bending the light around the poles, shifting reality just enough to throw off aim.
He leaned in close and murmured, ¡°Look¡ªdo you see it?¡±
At first, she didn¡¯t. Her brow furrowed, her gaze darting uncertainly. But then he pointed, his finger tracing the faint distortion in the air. She squinted, her violet eyes sparking to life, the glow of the carnival lights reflecting in them like embers catching fire. And then, finally, she saw it.
She squinted at the target, her grin twisting into something far more wicked. ¡°Ah,¡± she murmured, her tone dripping with realization. ¡°I see how it is.¡±
With a slow breath, Ell raised the third ring, her movements now deliberate, calculating. ¡°Alright,¡± she said, her voice laced with challenge. ¡°Warm-ups are over. Time to show you how it¡¯s done.¡±
The ring soared through the air with precision, spinning once, twice, before landing dead center on the tallest pole. It wobbled for the briefest moment¡ªjust enough to build tension¡ªthen settled with a satisfying thunk. The group erupted into cheers and groans.
¡°Beginner¡¯s luck,¡± Marcus muttered, stepping up with the resignation of a man forced into the fray. He slapped a coin on the counter, collected his rings, and lobbed the first with a lazy flick of his wrist. It struck true, sliding cleanly onto a pole.
Ell groaned in mock agony. ¡°Oh, come on!¡±
Marcus raised an eyebrow, as if to say naturally, while Alice smirked.
¡°I thought this was a children¡¯s game?¡± Alice said.
Marcus shrugged. ¡°I was a child once.¡±
Ell groaned and the playful ribbing continued as they moved to the next booth, Ell walking with just enough swagger to be insufferable.
¡°You only hit those because I figured out the trick,¡± she chided Marcus, her tone half-serious. ¡°I exposed the weakness. You just took advantage of it.¡±
¡°What are you two even talking about?¡± Dex asked, confusion written across his face.
¡°The booths are enchanted,¡± Jace said, cutting in as his gaze drifted back toward the ring toss. ¡°All of them are. This whole place is filled with enchantments and illussions, even my Truthsense is working overtime to try and figure it all out. It¡¯s giving me a headache. The ring toss one had an alternative spatial curve¡ªlight bending just enough to make the targets look like they¡¯re in the wrong spot on each throw.¡±
Ell grinned, tossing her braid over her shoulder. ¡°Good thing I¡¯ve got better aim and sharper eyes.¡±
¡°Sure,¡± Marcus deadpanned, but his smirk betrayed him.
Dex chuckled and headed over to a booth with a red canopy over it. ¡°I¡¯m sticking to the food stalls.¡±
Chapter Eighteen: Making Friends
Chapter Eighteen: Making Friends
Dex broke ahead, his nose leading him to a stall where pastries were stacked precariously high and skewered meats sizzled over an open flame. The cart owner, a rotund man with a wild, wiry beard and a missing front tooth, was busy yelling at a pigeon perched on the edge of his canopy.
¡°You freeloading sack of feathers!¡± he bellowed, waving a ladle like it was a broadsword. ¡°Go steal from someone who can afford it! I¡¯m running a business here!¡± The pigeon cocked its head, unimpressed, and flapped lazily to a nearby rooftop. The man grumbled under his breath, muttering something about birds needing to learn respect, then turned with a dramatic flourish, his apron stained with grease and flour.
The cart owner spotted them and immediately sprang into action, his booming voice carrying the energy of a seasoned showman. ¡°Ah, customers! Step right up! Today¡¯s special: satisfaction on a stick and bliss wrapped in pastry. Finest cuisine in these parts, I promise!¡± He gestured grandly, as if unveiling a royal feast, his apron flapping with the movement.
¡°You seem to have plenty of food here. And all the carts I see around are overflowing. I got the impression there might be some shortage,¡± Ell said, probing.
The man froze for a split second, his smile tightening. Straightening his apron, he adjusted his tone, adopting an air of practiced politeness. ¡°Well, yes,¡± he said, glancing sideways. ¡°Food has been a bit on the scarce side, and the farms, well, they ain''t what they used to be, that''s true enough.¡± His tone grew overly bright, though a flicker of worry lingered in his eyes. ¡°But of course, you needn¡¯t worry, m¡¯lord. We reserve only the best for distinguished visitors such as yourselves.¡±
Dex¡¯s amused grin widened. ¡°Oh, no nobility here,¡± he said, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°Just Travelers from Mount Olympus.¡±
The man¡¯s shoulders slumped in visible relief, his formal demeanor evaporating like steam off a hot skewer. ¡°Ah, Travelers! Thank the gods,¡± he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful these days. Mistaking a noble for a Traveler? Might as well dig me own grave and lie down in it.¡± He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, like a fire crackling on a cold night.
¡°What is happening with the farms?¡± Ell pressed.
¡°Well, not really something that would interest you, I¡¯m sure,¡± the man replied, his eyes darting around nervously.
¡°Oh, it definitely does,¡± Dex leaned in with a smile.
The man froze for a split second, his smile tightening. He adjusted his tone, adopting an air of practiced politeness. ¡°It really isn''t something to worry about,¡± he said, looking around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation.
Jace could tell the man wanted to speak, but something held him back. The tension in his posture, the way his gaze flickered as if searching for an unseen threat¡ªit was clear. Jace searched his eyes, and in that moment, a faint shimmer sparked in his vision. A gossamer thread of light drifted from the man¡¯s lips, faint stitches of ethereal lines weaving together with each word he spoke, the threads stretching outward and dissolving into the void like smoke dissipating in a breeze.
¡°I really can''t say,¡± the man murmured, his voice tight with unspoken words. And Jace knew he meant it.
Dex glanced at Jace, catching the faint shake of his head. Reading the cue, Dex turned back to the man with a grin that masked his unease. ¡°Well, I¡¯m famished. What¡¯s the damage for this so-called satisfaction and bliss?¡±
The man noticeably relaxed, a pressure removed from his shoulders.
¡°Five coppers for a skewer, seven for a pastry. Ten for both,¡± the man rattled off, his tone suddenly all business. ¡°And before you start whining, food¡¯s scarce. Fields ain¡¯t what they used to be, but we make do.¡±
¡°Ten it is,¡± Dex said with a sigh, fishing out the coins. He handed them over with a mock salute.
The cart owner¡¯s grin returned, revealing a missing tooth that somehow added to his roguish charm. ¡°Oh, it will be,¡± he said confidently. ¡°Best food this side of the Merchant Circle. You¡¯ll see.¡±
Dex bit into a skewer under the cart owner¡¯s watchful eye, his face betraying nothing¡ªat first. The moment the charred flavor hit his tongue, his expression wavered, lips twitching into a grimace that he hastily reshaped into a strained smile.
¡°Mmm, absolutely delicious,¡± Dex said, nodding vigorously. The cart owner beamed, clearly pleased, as he turned his attention elsewhere.
Dex leaned toward the others and muttered under his breath, ¡°Tastes like burnt disappointment,¡± forcing the bite down with a grim determination.
The cart owner smiled, utterly unrepentant. ¡°Told you it¡¯s the finest. Crops might be cursed, but not the cook.¡±
As the words left his mouth, he stiffened, his expression shifting from casual indifference to stark realization. His face paled, as if he¡¯d said something he shouldn¡¯t have. Then, in an unnerving instant, his features went blank, like a puppet with its strings momentarily cut. Moments later, a practiced smile slid back into place, bright and cheerful, as though nothing had happened.
The group exchanged glances, but didn''t press it further. Something told them it wouldn''t be a very good idea for the man''s health.
Despite the lingering taste of ash, Dex¡¯s good humor returned. He glanced over at Jace. ¡°Care to try your luck?¡±
¡°Let¡¯s see if I can help,¡± Jace said, stepping forward with an air of quiet determination.
The cart owner¡¯s sharp eyes followed Dex¡¯s movements, narrowing as Jace pulled a small vial from his inventory before giving it a little shake. A single drop shimmered as it touched the pastry¡¯s surface, soaking in and vanishing almost instantly. The change was immediate. Wisps of rich steam unfurled, carrying a scent that was warm and tantalizing. Dex took another bite, his eyes closing in delight. The flavors unfolded: layers of toasted grain and crushed nuts, with a mellow sweetness like roasted chestnuts at the edges.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
¡°Better?¡± Jace asked, a small grin tugging at his lips.
Dex nodded, his expression softening as he savored the transformed pastry. ¡°Much better.¡±
A scrape of boot leather against stone drew their attention. A young man approached, dressed in fine black attire with a violet sash draped over one shoulder. His entourage followed close behind, all clad in similarly glossy finery, their movements sharp and calculated. His cheeks glowed with a pampered flush, and his high, thin voice carried a note of entitlement.
¡°What,¡± he drawled, each syllable sliding into a whine, ¡°did you put on that food?¡±
Dex took the bottle and held it up, letting the sun catch its faint gleam. ¡°Flavor Saver,¡± he replied. He didn¡¯t elaborate, didn¡¯t sneer, just stated the truth as plainly as he¡¯d name the color of the sky.
The young man¡¯s eyes narrowed, his posture straightening as if he expected the world to bow before him. Overhead, a ruby crystal hummed softly, warming the air, while behind them the streets echoed with merchants¡¯ calls. Unacknowledged by the arrogant stranger, the cart owner shrank a bit, shoulders folding inward. The hush that followed felt weighted, as though the scent of spice and bread might curdle into something bitter.
The goon stepped forward, his boots hitting the cobblestones with the weight of a man who liked being looked at. Thick-necked, with shoulders too broad for his ill-fitted armor, he carried a sneer that barely found room under his helm. His voice matched the clanking steel he wore¡ªgrating and harsh. ¡°You will refer to Lord Caspen of House Incantein as Lord when you speak to him.¡±
Jace tilted his head slightly, sizing the man up. He didn¡¯t look particularly quick or smart, but the way his hands hovered near the hilt of his blade suggested he was eager to be dangerous.
Caspen stepped forward, lifting a gloved hand as if the world revolved around him. His face wrinkled in disdain, his nose twitching like a cat near spoiled milk. ¡°Travelers,¡± he spat the word, letting it hang in the air like an insult. ¡°No manners. No taste.¡±
Behind the cart, the vendor stirred nervously, his hands working over a dishcloth that had seen better days. ¡°It¡¯s fine, my lord,¡± he stammered. ¡°No offense taken, truly.¡±
Caspen rounded on him, the syrupy warmth in his voice masking sharp edges. ¡°Silence, peasant. I¡¯ll have your tongue if you speak again.¡± He leaned forward, smiling with teeth too white for the venom they hid. ¡°I am offended on your behalf, whether you have the sense to feel it or not.¡±
The vendor shrank back, his shoulders curling as though trying to make himself smaller, less visible. He cast a nervous glance at Jace, a plea hidden in the quick flick of his eyes.
Caspen¡¯s voice turned soft, almost kind, as he addressed no one in particular, like he was performing for an audience only he could see. ¡°These poor, defenseless peasants need someone noble to stand up for them. Someone who knows their worth. Travelers think they can disrespect anyone, even our lowest, most miserable¡ªnay, pitiful¡ªclasses. But even our peasants,¡± he paused, a self-satisfied smirk curling his lips, ¡°deserve better than any Traveler.¡±
The silence that followed felt sharp, cutting through the bustling noise of the Merchant Circle. Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, and his hand drifted unconsciously toward his side, where shadows seemed to flicker faintly at his fingertips. Jace¡¯s shoulders stiffened, the weight of Hades¡¯ warning pressing hard against his pride.
Don''t make a scene. Not my fight.
Jace''s hand twitched, shadows licking faintly at his fingertips, but he forced himself to stillness. He set his hand on Dex''s shoulder.
¡°Let¡¯s go, guys,¡± he muttered, keeping his voice steady. Turning on his heel, he walked away, his friends reluctantly falling into step behind him.
Caspen sputtered, his face contorting in disbelief. ¡°How dare you walk away from me? I am speaking to you!¡± The noble¡¯s voice cracked, shrill with outrage. Jace didn¡¯t break stride, though his muscles tensed with the effort of restraint.
Then he felt it, despite the dulled senses¡ªa ripple in the air, thick and wrong, like stepping into the aftermath of a scream that hadn¡¯t yet faded. Jace¡¯s senses flared in warning, but the reaction came almost too late.
A violent lash of dark energy snapped through the space, sharp and cold, nine streaks of violet-black slicing out like living whips. Jace twisted instinctively, the nearest one missing him by inches as it tore through the food cart. The cart exploded in a shower of wood and pastries, the merchant diving for cover with a startled yelp.
Dex¡¯s skewer flew from his hand, landing in the debris as a half-charred mess. He stared down at it with a look of pure devastation. ¡°My food¡¡± he muttered, his voice almost a whimper.
The lashes didn¡¯t stop there. They tore through banners, sending them fluttering in tatters, and cracked against the side of a tent, ripping open the fabric and spilling its glowing contents onto the cobblestones. A lantern shattered nearby, sparks raining harmlessly into the damp air. Chaos erupted in the wake of the attack, though miraculously, no one was hurt.
Jace¡¯s heart pounded as the energy dissipated, leaving the scene in disarray. He cast a quick glance at Dex, who was still staring forlornly at the wreckage of his meal.
¡°Seriously?¡± Dex mumbled, his voice flat with despair. ¡°Did it have to ruin everything?¡±
Jace spun, adrenaline surging through him. Before he could process the moment, shadows coiled at his fingertips, twisting into chains that erupted from the ground as he instinctively cast Chains of Oblivion for the first time. They struck Caspen across the face, leaving a red, pulsing mark that glowed faintly with the underworld¡¯s energy. The noble staggered, his hand darting to his cheek in a futile attempt to smother the searing pain. The chains, relentless and unyielding, coiled tighter, dragging his arms down to his sides and locking him in place.
Jace froze, his breath caught in his throat as he released the chains and they faded to black smoke. He hadn¡¯t meant to do it. The magic had come unbidden, like an instinct, a second heartbeat that acted before his mind caught up.
Caspen recovered quickly, his face twisting into a mask of fury. ¡°Guards!¡± he bellowed, though the command was barely necessary. The men around him were already in motion, surging forward with deadly intent. The metallic clang of blades rang out as his entourage drew their weapons in unison, the sound slicing through the tension like a warning bell.
¡°You¡¯re going to regret ever being born,¡± he snarled, his lips curling into a vicious sneer. Predatory eyes burned with malice, promising nothing short of destruction.
Marcus shifted, a crackle of electricity arcing between his fingers. Ell unsheathed her sword, its edge shimmering faintly with runic power. Molly didn¡¯t move; her stance alone radiated calm confidence as the air around her rose gently. Dex raised his fists, his Shard flaring with light. Alice, eyes steady and cold, drew a small vial from her belt, ready to unleash whatever potent force it contained.
Then the air changed again, sharper this time but colder, calmer. A woman stepped into the space between them and the guards, her presence as commanding as the silence that followed. Her emerald eyes glinted with an almost hypnotic light. With a wave of her hand, the guards¡¯ swords vanished, dissolving into motes of golden light that drifted harmlessly to the ground.
Jace blinked, his memory catching up. He recognized her¡ªher features were striking and noble, with high cheekbones and an angular grace that spoke of an ancient lineage. Her skin, a rich bronze tone, seemed to glow with the warmth of the sun, complementing the intricate patterns of her flowing attire. Braided hair adorned with delicate golden beads framed her face, giving her a timeless quality. And something else¡ªa subtle taper to her ears, barely noticeable but enough to suggest she might be something just a touch beyond human.
It was the same woman he had noticed before, standing with quiet authority among the Egyptians at the gate.
Her silver hair caught the daylight, gleaming like molten metal, while her dark blue eyes shone with a piercing clarity.
¡°That,¡± she said, her voice soft, and yet both firm and commanding, ¡°is quite enough.¡±
Chapter Nineteen: Peacocks and Predators
Chapter Nineteen: Peacocks and Predators
¡°Caspen, making new friends, are we?¡± The faint smile on her lips never quite reached her eyes.
¡°Princess Lyra!¡± Caspen stammered, his bravado faltering. He bowed, though the motion was stiff. ¡°My apologies, but this whelp needs to be taught a lesson. Striking a noble is an offense punishable by death!¡±
Unbidden, sensing the danger, Jace felt the chains begin to pour from his hands again. This time, however, he stopped them before they grew longer than a foot. What¡¯s happening to me? Get it together, man. Jace ordered himself.
Lyra¡¯s smile faded, replaced by a serene seriousness that chilled the space around her.
¡°A dire claim indeed,¡± she murmured, her words slow and deliberate. Her voice was as smooth as silk stretched taut. ¡°If it were true, that would be an issue.¡±
¡°It is true!¡° Caspen insisted, his face a patchwork of indignation and lingering pain. ¡°And I demand recompense! I demand blood!¡±
Lyra raised a single brow, her posture imperious. ¡°From me?¡± Her tone carried the weight of a thousand unspoken rebukes. ¡°I am not of your kingdom, Caspen, nor am I your subject. And yet you demand anything of me? I expected better manners from someone of your upbringing.¡±
Caspen opened his mouth, then closed it again, his words swallowed by her sharp gaze. The guards behind him shifted uncomfortably, their hands twitching toward hilts that no longer existed. Lyra stood tall, her presence as immovable as a mountain, her emerald eyes catching the faint glimmers of the ruby crystals above.
Jace exhaled slowly, his tension easing but not disappearing entirely. The chains at his fingertips faded back into shadows, though the cold echo of their power lingered against his skin.
¡°Not of you, Princess. Of him¡ I demand¡ I request¡¡± Caspen faltered, searching for the right excuse to untangle himself from the silken web Lyra had spun. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡¡± he began weakly, but Lyra raised a slender hand, cutting him off mid-sputter.
¡°If he truly struck a noble outside of a duel,¡± she said, her words sharp as cut crystal, ¡°that would be quite the scandal, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Her emerald eyes glittered like a blade catching the light. ¡°But I did see your magic, Caspen. I assumed, naturally, that a duel was underway. Otherwise¡¡° She let the silence stretch just long enough for the nearby onlookers to lean in, her voice dropping to a tone of mock gravity. ¡°¡you¡¯d be admitting to common brawling. And that would be so¡ beneath you.¡±
She turned to her friends, her expression shifting as if struck by a sudden realization. ¡°Oh, that would be such a scandal, wouldn¡¯t it? Especially with your family so eager to secure a marriage for you. Can you imagine what the ladies of the Court would say? I shudder to think!¡± With a theatrical gasp, she clutched her hand to her chest, feigning faintness.
A chorus of giggles broke out from a nearby cluster of women dressed in vibrant gold and crimson¡ªtheir insignias unmistakably Amon Ra. They whispered behind jeweled hands, their amusement at Caspen¡¯s predicament thinly veiled. Caspen¡¯s cheeks flushed crimson, his pride crumbling under the weight of Lyra¡¯s words and the echo of laughter. He straightened, forcing his composure into something resembling dignity.
¡°Yes,¡± he said, the word strained through gritted teeth. ¡°A duel. Exactly.¡±
Lyra¡¯s lips curved into a perfect smile, bright and disarming, but there was a glint of something sharper beneath it. ¡°Just as I thought. And I assume it¡¯s over then, as Jace clearly made first contact.¡± She tilted her head ever so slightly, her regal poise unyielding.
Caspen gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. Subtle as it was, it was all Lyra needed.
¡°Indeed, as it appears. I knew I was mistaken to think otherwise.¡±
¡°Quite right, Your Royal Highness,¡± he replied, the words rolling off his tongue with thinly veiled disdain. ¡°I appreciate the¡ clarity.¡± He dusted himself off briskly. ¡°Well,¡± he added, straightening his vest, ¡°I suppose we should set to be preparing for the Ceremony tonight.¡±
He shot Jace a scowl, then turned to Lyra with a shallow bow before attempting to make his exit. But before he could take more than a few steps, Lyra¡¯s voice rang out, bright and deliberate, slicing through the air as if he hadn¡¯t spoken at all.
¡°And, of course, a duel must have a wager.¡±
Caspen froze mid-step, his shoulders stiffening. Jace caught the flicker of a bitter scowl twisting his features, as though he¡¯d bitten into something rotten but couldn¡¯t spit it out.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
¡°All duels must, after all¡ªCoin, Mark, or Recompense. Which was it, again?¡±
Caspen¡¯s jaw tightened, the muscles in his face taut as a bowstring. ¡°Coin,¡± he ground out, his tone sharp, betraying just how much the word cost him.
Lyra gave an approving nod and turned to Jace, her gaze softening only slightly. ¡°Young Master¡?¡±
¡°Jace,¡± he replied simply, still uncertain whether to feel victorious or like he¡¯d stepped into something far bigger than himself.
¡°Well then, Young Master Jace,¡± Lyra declared, her voice carrying just enough to let everyone within earshot hear. ¡°As the winner of this duel, you are due the standard wager in Coin.¡± She turned back to Caspen, her expression expectant.
The noble seethed, his shoulders rigid as he stormed forward. His hand darted into his sash, pulling out a weighty sack that jingled with the heavy clink of metal. He shoved it into Jace¡¯s hand with enough force to make the coins clatter against each other. Leaning in close enough for only Jace to hear, he hissed, ¡°You¡¯ll regret this, Traveler. My family has places for people like you.¡± His breath was as cold as his threat, and before Jace could muster a reply, Caspen turned sharply on his heel and stomped away, his entourage scrambling to follow.
The tension evaporated as Lyra let out a laugh¡ªbright, carefree, and entirely out of place against the backdrop of hostility. Her companions closed in around her, and she glanced back at Jace with a playful grin. ¡°He¡¯s such a little prick,¡± she said lightly, her tone conspiratorial. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind me having a bit of fun teasing him.¡±
One of her companions, a tall woman with silver-threaded braids, leaned in, her tone low but audible. ¡°Your Highness, you really shouldn¡¯t,¡± she murmured, though her words carried more indulgence than rebuke.
¡°Oh hush, Serephine,¡± Lyra replied with a wave of her hand, her laughter bubbling again. ¡°Just a little fun.¡±
Her gaze flicked to the sack of coins now resting awkwardly in Jace¡¯s hand. For the first time, he noticed how heavy it was. The weight pressed into his palm like an anchor, though it wasn¡¯t the coin inside that left him uneasy. Something deeper churned¡ªan understanding that this moment, however small it seemed, was the beginning of something far more dangerous.
He added the pouch to his inventory, and it vanished from sight.
Lyra¡¯s emerald gaze swept over the vendor, softening as she reached into her sash and withdrew a stack of gleaming gold coins. She pressed them into his trembling hands. ¡°For your trouble,¡± she said, her voice calm but firm. ¡°And remember, you have the right to speak for yourself.¡±
The vendor blinked, his fingers curling instinctively around the stack of coins as if they might vanish if he didn¡¯t hold them tightly enough. Lyra turned to leave, her entourage falling in step around her, but Jace¡¯s voice cut through the moment before she disappeared.
¡°Uh, miss¡ Princess?¡±
She paused mid-stride, casting a glance over her shoulder with a curious smile. ¡°Yes?¡±
Jace hesitated, then blurted, ¡°What are Coin, Mark, and Recompense? I mean, I figured Coin out, but the others?¡±
Her expression softened into something almost maternal, though there was still a glint of curiosity behind her eyes. ¡°I sometimes forget how little Travelers know,¡± she said thoughtfully, as if to herself. ¡°Coin is a payment agreed upon before a duel, usually to cover perceived losses. Mark is far more valuable¡ªa favor owed by the loser, enforceable by oath, and immensely powerful if taken from someone of status.¡± Her voice dipped slightly, just enough to let the final word linger. ¡°Recompense, however, is taken in blood. All three are common wagers in our duels. He likely gave you the minimum allowable Coin wager for a proper duel.¡±
Jace nodded, filing the information away. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said simply.
Lyra¡¯s smile returned, a brief, radiant thing, and with a slight nod, she melted back into the crowd, her companions flanking her like loyal shadows. For a moment, her laughter carried on the warm air, fading like a song¡¯s last notes.
The group stared at Jace in silence, a beat of stillness stretching too long. The vendor, still clutching the gold, broke it first. ¡°Are you lot important people or something?¡±
Ell snorted. ¡°Not particularly,¡± she said with a shrug.
¡°Speak for yourself!¡± Marcus declared, puffing out his chest as if trying to fill the space Lyra had left. The others chuckled, the tension easing slightly, though the vendor still looked uncertain.
Jace cleared his throat, glancing back at the vendor. ¡°Do you know anything about Caspen or Lyra?¡±
The vendor rubbed the back of his neck, his demeanor slipping into something more familiar, less wary. ¡°Caspen? Son of some big-shot noble family, a chosen avatar of Pluto. Mean streak, that one. Doesn¡¯t surprise me he¡¯s picking fights with Travelers.¡±
¡°And Lyra?¡± Jace pressed.
The vendor nodded slowly, his tone softening with a trace of respect. ¡°Princess Lyra Ravenscroft. Daughter of King Trent¡ªone of the Egyptian monarchs. But she¡¯s Aztec by blood, the second daughter of their king. She¡¯s been living with the Egyptians for years now, though.¡± He hesitated, then added, ¡°She¡¯s sharp, that one. Not someone you¡¯d want to cross.¡±
Jace tipped him well, the clinking of coins punctuating the moment. They turned to leave, but he caught a faint flush on Alice¡¯s cheeks. She glanced away before he could meet her eyes directly. Something stirred in him¡ªa question perhaps¡ªbut he pushed it aside. Not now.
Jace pulled up his inventory, his eyes widening at the sight of his newest acquisition: five Etherium. He did the math in his head, and the result hit him like a punch. It was the equivalent of five thousand gold¡ªten times his scholarship¡¯s annual stipend of five hundred! That was the minimum standard Coin? If that was the lowest allowed, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the average wager for a duel with Nobles might be.
Marcus broke the silence, his voice low but dripping with exaggerated indignation. ¡°Some people, honestly. Strutting around like peacocks, flinging their egos everywhere. It¡¯s embarrassing, really. No manners.¡±
The group turned to him, their collective gaze a silent verdict of disbelief. Eyebrows lifted, lips twitching with barely concealed amusement.
Marcus blinked, glancing around at their faces. ¡°What?¡± he asked, his confusion wholly sincere.
Dex stepped forward, laying a hand on his shoulder with the glistening eyes of someone holding back laughter. ¡°Let¡¯s get something to eat.¡±
¡°How are you still hungry?¡± Ell asked.
¡°He made me drop my food.¡±
Chapter Twenty: Somethings Wrong
Chapter Twenty: Something''s Wrong
The next food stall they found was quaint, adorned with garlands of dried herbs and tiny glowing lanterns. The vendor, a plump woman with ruddy cheeks and bright, eager eyes, greeted him with a wide smile.
¡°Good day, sir! Fresh candied imp, straight from the fire. Guaranteed to melt in your mouth!¡±
Jace¡¯s stomach turned at the thought but Dex ordered one without hesitation.
The woman¡¯s hands worked quickly, plucking a skewer from the grill and wrapping its base in a small square of parchment. She handed it to Dex with the same infectious smile. ¡°Enjoy, sir.¡±
¡°Excuse me, ma¡¯am,¡± Jace said, forcing a polite smile while glancing sideways as Dex took an enthusiastic bite. ¡°This place is¡ really something. Lot¡¯s of illusion magic here. How do you manage to keep it all running?¡±
The woman¡¯s cheerful demeanor wavered¡ªnot enough to draw attention from the others, but just enough for Jace to notice. Her smile flickered, a tiny crack appearing in the mask of practiced ease. She let out a strained chuckle, adjusting the skewers on the grill with fidgeting hands. ¡°It¡¯s¡ hard work. We¡ we do what we can.¡± Her voice was lighter now, brittle around the edges, like she was reciting lines from memory.
Jace¡¯s eyes narrowed as his unease crystalized. In the flickering lantern light, he caught it¡ªa faint shimmer around her neck, subtle and almost imperceptible, but familiar. His instincts bristled, warning him there was more to this woman than her bright smile.
Something unspoken lingered in the air, an invisible thread winding its way around him, tugging at the edges of his awareness. His Truthsense stirred again, sharp and insistent, dragging his mind back to the cold, frost-covered windows they¡¯d passed earlier. He could see them now¡ªsmall, dirt-smudged faces peering out, their wide eyes dull with hunger and hopelessness. A wave of anger surged through him, sudden and fierce, catching him off guard.
How could he have forgotten? No¡ªhe hadn¡¯t forgotten. Not really. It was more like he hadn¡¯t cared, like the weight of it had been pushed aside, smothered beneath the carnival¡¯s glow. He hated himself for that. But now it all came rushing back, crashing over him like icy water.
And there it was again, that feeling. A question she didn¡¯t want him to ask, one that hung heavy in the silence between them. Which, of course, made it impossible for him to ignore.
¡°And the families outside, in the Commoners¡¯ District?¡± Jace pressed, lowering his voice. ¡°Do you know where their parents are? The ones struggling in the snow, freezing and starving just a few minutes away?¡±
The question cut through the warm, bustling carnival like a blade, and Jace caught the brief, panicked flicker in her eyes before she looked away.
Her expression froze. Her mouth opened, but no words came. Her bright eyes darted to the side, as though looking for someone¡ªor something. Her hands trembled faintly, and for a moment, she looked sad.
¡°I¡¡± she began, but the words caught, strangled by something unseen. She glanced over her shoulder, a quick, nervous motion, before snapping back to him with a tight smile. ¡°Thank you for your patronage,¡± she said abruptly, her voice clipped. She turned away, her movements stiff and mechanical, as if retreating from something far more dangerous than Jace¡¯s questions.
He stood there, watching her work in silence. The cheerful rhythm of the carnival continued around him, oblivious to the tension that now coiled in his chest. He looked at the crowd, at the glowing stalls and laughing children, and felt a cold knot tighten in his gut.
The group exchanged uneasy glances, their weariness deepening with every step.
Jace broke the silence, his voice low and steady. ¡°Whatever is happening here, we need to stay sharp. Something is blurring my senses. At first, I thought it was just the quantity of illusion spells all clumped together¡ which, it might be. But there¡¯s something else¡ something I can¡¯t quite reach.¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Marcus frowned, checking the faint glow of his Interface Stone. ¡°Nothing shows up in my status effects,¡± he said.
¡°Same here,¡± Ell added, her tone clipped as her hand lingered on the hilt of her dagger.
¡°Trust me, my Truthsense might be too low level to pierce it¡ but someone is hiding something. It¡¯s hard to hold on to, but something¡ªsomething is very wrong.¡±
Alice¡¯s voice broke in, her words quiet so as not to be overheard. ¡°High-level illusion and charm magics can bypass Interface Stones if they¡¯re tailored for it. Won¡¯t even show up in Status Effects. Something this subtle and pervasive? It would take serious power though. Above Gold Rank.¡±
They fell silent, the implications sinking in like stones in still water. Nervous glances passed between them, unspoken fears threading through the group.
¡°Come on, I want to see what¡¯s behind the scenes,¡± Jace said, his voice low as he moved toward a thick curtain strung between two elaborately painted caravan carriages. Their faded designs¡ªintricate spirals of stars, moons, and mythical beasts¡ªseemed to shift faintly in the dimming light of late afternoon.
The group slipped past the curtain, the lively hum of the carnival muffling behind them. The vibrant music and laughter seemed to vanish into the shadows, replaced by the steady thrum of unseen machinery and the muted rustle of work in progress.
The path narrowed, gravel crunching underfoot as they moved deeper into the underbelly of the carnival. The grand, glittering facades gave way to the bare, skeletal framework of the operation. Wooden beams braced sagging tents, their fabric patched and worn. Strings of dim lanterns swayed overhead, casting uneven light on the makeshift workspaces below.
The further they wandered into the carnival, the more the air seemed to shift. The warm laughter and flickering lights dulled, replaced by a strange.
In the half-light, they could make out figures moving with purpose¡ªworkers hunched over crates filled with shimmering artifacts, others bending to repair props that glowed faintly with lingering enchantments. The air smelled of oil, wood shavings, and something faintly metallic.
A giant wheel lay tilted on its side, its surface carved with runes that pulsed in time with the rhythmic clatter of a nearby contraption. Beside it, a towering automaton¡ªa hulking creature of brass and iron shaped like a sphinx¡ªsat dormant, its eyes dark but its joints twitching faintly, as though dreaming of motion.
Jace slowed, his eyes scanning the scene with growing unease. Here, in the shadows, the carnival felt less like a celebration and more like a machine, its cheer carefully constructed by hands that worked in silence.
He felt an odd sensation in his mind, like blood rushing back to a numb limb¡ªan ache that built as his senses stirred to life. It was as if a curtain had been lifted, the fog that had dulled his awareness slowly receding. Perhaps back here, behind the carnival¡¯s fa?ade, they were shielded from some of the enchantments at work. The pain was subtle at first, a dull throb that sharpened as his perceptions expanded, raw and unfiltered, leaving him acutely aware of everything around him.
Workers moved with an odd rhythm, their steps unnaturally synchronized. Their faces were frozen in smiles that felt wrong¡ªtoo perfect, too vacant, like puppets forced to mimic joy. It sent a shiver crawling up Jace¡¯s spine.
Jace and the others crouched behind the massive wheel, its towering frame casting a deep shadow over them. Still, Jace couldn¡¯t shake the sense that their caution was unnecessary. The workers moved with single-minded focus, their gazes fixed on their tasks, never once glancing up or acknowledging their surroundings. It was as if nothing outside their immediate work existed.
And then he saw it. A faint glint caught his eye, something golden reflecting in the weak lantern light. He froze, his breath hitching in his throat as he focused. Around the workers¡¯ necks, barely visible, were chains¡ªthin, shimmering links of gold that pulsed faintly, as if alive. The chains were subtle, easy to miss, but now that he¡¯d seen them, he couldn¡¯t look away.
Ell¡¯s sharp intake of breath broke the silence. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°Their smiles¡ they¡¯re not real.¡±
Jace nodded silently, his eyes narrowing as he studied the scene. There was something deeply unsettling about the way the workers moved, their hollow expressions betraying no hint of awareness. Whatever magic bound them, it wasn¡¯t just subtle¡ªit was deliberate, powerful.
As they lingered in the shadows, one of the workers looked up. Jace¡¯s stomach clenched. For a moment, no one moved, caught in the silent tension stretching between them. The man¡¯s eyes fixed on them, dark and unblinking, like twin voids that swallowed all light. He was massive, his frame rippling with muscle beneath a sweat-streaked tunic. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if every step carried the weight of purpose.
The muted hum pressing against Jace¡¯s senses grew louder, a dull roar in his ears. His thoughts felt thick, like syrup, slipping through his grasp as he struggled to focus. The man tilted his head, unnervingly bird-like, then took a step forward. His boots crunched against the gravel, the sound unnaturally sharp in the oppressive quiet.
¡°Go,¡± Jace hissed under his breath.
Chapter Twenty-One: The Crone
Chapter Twenty-One: The Crone
They took off, their breaths ragged as the pounding of heavy footsteps behind them reverberated like a war drum. Jace risked a glance over his shoulder, his heart lurching at the sight of the hulking figure closing in. Each crunch of boots on gravel was louder, heavier, until it felt like the earth itself recoiled beneath his weight.
¡°Maybe he just wants to talk!¡± Ell shouted breathlessly, darting around a corner.
¡°Yeah, sure,¡± Marcus snapped, his voice strained but dry as ever. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s just dying to compliment our sprinting form.¡±
Dex, panting hard, hissed, ¡°Can we save the banter for after we¡¯re not getting crushed into paste?¡±
They weaved through the carnival¡¯s labyrinth of trailers, but something was off. The narrow gaps they¡¯d seen before were gone, the pathways warping and twisting into a maze that had no business existing. Jace¡¯s stomach turned as realization dawned.
¡°He¡¯s gaining on us!¡± Dex barked, panic creeping into his voice.
¡°Thank you, Captain Obvious!¡± Ell shot back, though the tension in her voice betrayed her usual bravado.
Through the swirling haze, a tent emerged, its dark canopy sagging as if buckling under the weight of time itself. Smoke seeped from its seams, curling into claw-like tendrils that clawed at the air. The fabric glimmered faintly, its surface etched with jagged, unsettling letters: The All-Seeing Eye. Oddly, the entrance faced them, turned away from the carnival¡¯s bustling heart, as though it had been waiting just for them.
¡°Oh yeah, this doesn¡¯t scream ¡®bad idea,¡¯¡± Marcus muttered.
Jace didn¡¯t hesitate, his instinct overriding the knot in his gut. ¡°This way!¡± he called, his urgency leaving no room for argument.
The group slipped through the entrance, the fabric parting with a reluctant shudder.
Inside, the air turned heavy, thick with smoke that clung to their skin and lungs like a second layer. Shadows writhed on the walls, stretching unnaturally, their edges fraying and bending like they were alive.
¡°Ow!¡± Jace looked down, and his hand was bleeding next to the White Raven ring. ¡°What the¡ªdid you bite me?¡± He asked the ring. There was no response.
¡°Cozy,¡± Ell murmured, her voice flat as her eyes darted to the circular table in the center. It was draped in black velvet, scattered with glowing cards that pulsed faintly, as though waiting for them to make a move.
¡°Right,¡± Dex muttered, his chest still heaving. ¡°Because this feels like a better option than being pulverized.¡±
The oppressive silence of the room swallowed their voices, leaving only the faint rustle of the cards and the strange, uneven flicker of light. The chase was over, but the unease was just beginning.
From the shadows emerged a figure¡ªpart menace, part myth. The crone hunched forward, her twisted frame somehow more commanding than her height suggested. Wild, knotted braids tangled with beads and shards of bone framed a face as weathered as old parchment. Her single, cloudy glass eye churned like a storm trapped in crystal, locking onto them with an unsettling precision.
¡°Fortunes for the bold,¡± she rasped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tense silence. ¡°But only for those who pay.¡±
Jace skidded to a halt, his instincts screaming to bolt, but the crone¡¯s gaze snagged the group like a hook, keeping them rooted in place. Marcus tugged at his sleeve, his jaw tight. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this.¡±
The crone¡¯s crooked grin widened, revealing teeth that gleamed too white, too perfect against her cracked lips. ¡°Time is a luxury you don¡¯t have,¡± she purred. ¡°Not without my help. I protect my customers. Their business stays¡ private.¡± Her glass eye flicked past them, catching something unseen in the smoke curling at the tent¡¯s edge. ¡°There¡¯s nowhere safer than here.¡±
Ell scoffed, her hand twitching toward her blade. ¡°She¡¯s stalling,¡± she snapped. ¡°We need to move¡ªnow.¡±
But as they turned, the way they¡¯d come was gone, replaced by a swirling wall of smoke that wrapped the tent in an impenetrable cocoon. Jace¡¯s stomach dropped as his eyes darted to the others. The crone¡¯s grin widened, as if she could taste their fear.
¡°What do you want?¡± Alice demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of defiance and dread.
¡°Just a fair exchange,¡± the crone crooned, gesturing to the table behind her. Draped in black velvet, it seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, its surface scattered with glowing cards that pulsed faintly in the dim light. ¡°A single coin for a glimpse at what¡¯s to come. And in return, your privacy.¡±
¡°How much?¡± Alice asked, her hand already hovering near her inventory.
¡°One gold per soul,¡± the crone said, her tone sweet as poison. ¡°The gods wouldn¡¯t accept less.¡±
Marcus bristled. ¡°That¡¯s extortion!¡±
The others turned to glare at him, their expressions a mix of irritation and disbelief. ¡°Keep your voice down,¡± Ell hissed.
¡°Just pay her,¡± Jace said, his voice low and firm. He reached into his pouch as the others reluctantly followed suit, Marcus muttering under his breath as he handed over his coin last.
Jace collected the gold and extended it toward the crone. Her gnarled fingers snatched the coins with a speed that belied her frail appearance.
The moment the last coin disappeared into the folds of her robes, the air seemed to thicken, pressing against their skin like an invisible weight. With a swift, almost impatient flick of her hand, the crone sealed the tent¡¯s back flap, but not before Jace caught a glimpse of massive fingers curling through the opening¡ªthick, gnarled, and too large to belong to any human. His stomach twisted as the flap snapped shut, cutting off the sight.
The smoke surged, coiling like a living thing, swallowing the world outside the tent in a suffocating haze. The crone¡¯s smile widened into something grotesque, her teeth unnaturally bright against the dim light. Her glass eye spun faster now, the storm within it churning violently, as though it drew strength from the rising unease in the room. Shadows writhed along the walls, growing bolder and more sinister with each passing moment, until it felt as though the tent itself had come alive.
The air grew colder, heavier, as if the very atmosphere recoiled from their presence. The faint hum of carnival merriment had vanished, replaced by an oppressive silence that wrapped around them like a shroud. Inside, the tent seemed to stretch unnaturally, its walls receding into shadows that devoured the flickering light of a single, weak lantern. Black grew and slithered in a vortex around them. At the center of it all sat the crone, her gnarled frame now impossibly still. Her glass eye spun slowly, the storm within it churning as if in warning.
¡°Sit,¡± she commanded, her voice low and guttural, a sound that resonated in their bones. Something unseen tugged at them, invisible strings pulling them forward until they found themselves seated around the table, unable to resist.
¡°One question each,¡± the crone rasped, her skeletal fingers hovering over the deck of glowing cards spread across the table. Her sharp gaze swept over them, daring defiance.
Marcus, arms crossed, let out a scoff. ¡°This is a scam,¡± he muttered, his words thick with disdain.
The crone¡¯s real eye snapped to him, her glare sharper than any blade. ¡°The cards do not care for your doubt,¡± she said, her voice cutting through the thick air. ¡°Speak, and they will answer.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
¡°What could she possibly say that¡¯s worth a gold coin?¡± Marcus muttered, his tone dripping with skepticism.
The crone didn¡¯t bother answering with words. Her skeletal fingers swept across the deck, plucking a card with deliberate, theatrical precision. She slapped it down onto the table, and as if on cue, thunder cracked through the swirling storm of smoke around them.
The card revealed the image of a child cradled in a man¡¯s arms, both figures cast in shadows. Her voice dropped, heavy and resonant, carrying more than just sound¡ªit struck the air like a tangible force. ¡°Your father¡¯s fate is not your own. But only you can undo what he has done.¡±
Marcus staggered back as if the words had physically struck him, his face paling. He blinked rapidly, rubbing at his watering eyes as though trying to shake off the disorientation. ¡°What¡ what does that even mean?¡± he demanded, his voice shaky and unsure.
The crone¡¯s face twisted, her human visage melting into something monstrous and otherworldly. Her mouth stretched unnaturally wide, her teeth jagged and sharp, as her voice rose into a shriek. ¡°One question each. Price paid. Service rendered!¡± She licked her lips.
The smoke surged, the winds howling as if summoned by her rage, whipping through the tent with a feral energy. For a brief, gut-churning moment, she was more beast than woman¡ªher form shifting and writhing, shadows flickering across her contorted features. Then, as quickly as it came, the horror receded, leaving her once again the crone, her gnarled hands resting on the table.
¡°Ask your next question,¡± she snapped, her voice sharp and demanding. Her glass eye swirled faster, its storm now a maelstrom.
Alice took a shaky step back. ¡°I think this was a bad idea,¡± she murmured, her voice trembling. ¡°Guys, I think we made a really, really terrible mistake.¡±
But Ell didn¡¯t hesitate. Despite the unease curling at the edges of her usual confidence, she leaned forward, her bravado holding strong. ¡°Ell, wait!¡± Alice shouted, trying to grab her arm, but Ell was already speaking.
¡°What¡¯s the fastest way to the top of the Tower?¡± she asked, her voice steadier than it should have been, though the cockiness it usually carried was gone.
The crone¡¯s grin widened, sharp and knowing, as her fingers hovered over the deck. The tension in the air grew thicker, suffocating, as if the tent itself anticipated the answer to come.
With unnerving precision, the crone plucked a card from the deck. She flipped it, revealing an image of a jagged mountain wreathed in storm clouds. ¡°To climb you fall,¡± she intoned, her voice cold and unyielding. The words hung in the air, their weight pressing into Ell like a hand at her throat. She leaned back, muttering a curse under her breath, but the gravity of the answer lingered.
¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡ªI should have seen this earlier!¡± Alice shouted, her voice barely carrying over the howling wind. The tent quaked around them, lightning crackling through the thick, swirling smoke as the storm intensified.
¡°What the hell is happening?¡± Dex yelled, his words nearly drowned out by the chaos.
Alice turned to them, her voice urgent and edged with fear. ¡°We have to keep asking questions, or this entire place will collapse and take us with it. She¡¯s not just a crone¡ªshe¡¯s a Soulrender. This is her domain, her trap. Every deal she makes, every question she answers, feeds her. She¡¯s stealing pieces of our fates, growing stronger with every answer. If we let her finish, she¡¯ll devour us¡ªmind, body, and soul.¡±
The crone let out a low, guttural laugh, her jagged teeth gleaming as she leaned closer. ¡°And such sweet fates they are,¡± she hissed. ¡°Ripe, delicious¡ perfect for me and my children when you perish.¡±
The smoke swirled tighter, forming sinuous shapes that slithered through the air like serpents. Jace¡¯s heart pounded as he finally noticed their menacing presence¡ªhow had he missed this? His senses felt dulled, his instincts failing him. Even the White Raven had tried to warn him, its faint hum against his skin growing frantic.
¡°What?¡± Dex stammered, his voice breaking. ¡°You mean¡ she¡¯s going to kill us?¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw clenched as the weight of Alice¡¯s words settled over them like a stone. They were out of time¡ªand options.
Alice nodded sharply, her hair whipping around her face in the gale. ¡°Exactly. Unless we stop her. We need to ask questions she can¡¯t answer¡ªones that stump her. It¡¯s the only way to break the deal and survive.¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened as the truth of Alice¡¯s words sank in. The crone¡ªno, the Soulrender¡ªwatched them with an unnerving calm, her glass eye spinning furiously. She knew their game now, and she was waiting, her grin daring them to try.
¡°Then we better think fast,¡± Jace growled. ¡°Because she¡¯s not giving us much time.¡±
Alice hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her voice, quieter now and tinged with an almost fragile courage, broke the silence. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, she leaned forward. ¡°Where can I find the Lost Book of Rita Nutkins, the Book of Mostly Harmless Prophecies?¡±
The crone¡¯s glass eye spun violently, her gnarled fingers pausing mid-air before slapping down a card with unnatural force. Thunder cracked overhead, shaking the tent as if the realm itself recoiled at the question. The card bore the image of a hooded reaper clutching a golden chest, and as they watched, her fingers began to elongate, curling unnaturally. Her smile stretched wider, revealing jagged teeth as her features grew monstrous.
¡°The answers you seek,¡± she hissed, her voice venomous and low, ¡°will only be found in your death.¡± The finality of her words struck like a physical blow, and Alice¡¯s breath hitched. The image on the card seemed to burn itself into her mind, dark and inescapable.
¡°Ask your questions!¡± The crone¡¯s head snapped toward the remaining group, her voice rising into an almost animalistic growl. Her gaze locked onto Dex first.
Dex swallowed hard but forced himself to speak. ¡°Will we ever go home¡ªto Earth?¡±
Her response was swift. She threw down a card, the movement mechanical yet deliberate. The card displayed two fractured planets split at their cores, glowing with clashing blue and red light. ¡°Yes,¡± she snarled, the word laced with something cruel, as though the answer was more punishment than promise.
Dex¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°How? When?¡±
The crone¡¯s face twisted in fury, her voice exploding into a guttural roar that shook the tent. ¡°ONE QUESTION EACH!¡± she screeched, her form growing darker and more grotesque, her body convulsing as it shifted further into something barely human. ¡°ASK YOUR NEXT QUESTION.¡±
Molly stepped forward before anyone could stop her, her voice trembling yet resolute. ¡°How do we get home?¡± she demanded, her gaze unwavering.
The crone stilled, her head tilting sharply as her milky eyes turned completely white. A strange light flickered within them, and suddenly, an image began to play in the air between them. No words left the crone¡¯s lips, but the scene unfolding before Molly was vivid, haunting, and painfully clear.
Tears streamed down Molly¡¯s face as she absorbed the vision, her shoulders trembling. She nodded silently, a solemn understanding passing over her expression. Without a word, she stepped back, the weight of the answer pressing her into silence.
The crone¡¯s head swiveled unnaturally, her gaze now falling on Jace. ¡°Your turn,¡± she hissed, her voice slithering through the oppressive air. ¡°Your question!¡±
Jace caught it then¡ªthe hunger burning behind her glass eye, her real eye twitching with predatory intent. His Truthsense flared, peeling back the layers of illusion, and what he saw chilled him to his core. She wasn¡¯t a person. She had never been a person. She was something monstrous, a creature born of this strange, oppressive realm. And she wasn¡¯t just playing a game¡ªshe was feeding on them.
Every question they asked, every answer she gave, made her stronger, her influence over this pocket dimension growing tighter. Escape seemed impossible, and the rules of her twisted domain were absolute. But then, a thought struck Jace¡ªreckless, desperate, and perhaps the only chance they had.
¡°Who am I?¡± he demanded.
Her fingers froze over the deck, trembling as though the very question burned her. The glass eye in her socket spun violently, the storm within it churning like a tempest. Slowly, she reached for a card, but the moment her fingers brushed it, she recoiled, hissing in pain.
¡°You¡¡± she snarled, her real eye narrowing to a slitted glare. The glass one locked onto him, its intensity almost unbearable. She tried again, snatching a card from the deck and slamming it onto the table. The instant it landed, it erupted into flames, the fire consuming it in an instant. The crone screeched, clutching her hand as though the heat had seared her skin.
The air grew heavier, suffocating, the walls of the tent rippling as if they might collapse. The lantern flickered wildly, throwing distorted shadows that seemed to crawl toward the group.
Jace leaned forward, his voice sharp, cutting through the chaos. ¡°Who am I?¡± he demanded again, louder this time.
The crone staggered back, her twisted form convulsing. Her lips twisted into a grimace, and her glass eye spun erratically, like it was malfunctioning. ¡°I cannot see!¡± she shrieked, her voice cracking with desperation. ¡°But your fortune¡¡± She flinched, doubling over as if struck by an unseen blow. ¡°Your fortune leaves ripples. Darkness. Terrible ripples. I must warn them.¡±
Jace¡¯s voice sharpened further. ¡°Warn who?¡±
¡°Them all!¡± she cried, her words ragged and wild.
Her breathing turned ragged, her bony hands clawing at the table as the cards scattered beneath her. Their glow dimmed, flickering like dying embers. ¡°I must answer!¡± she screamed, her voice breaking as she reached for another card.
This time, as her hand touched the deck, flames erupted once more, brighter and fiercer than before. The fire spread instantly, consuming her robes, her gnarled frame writhing in agony as smoke and heat filled the air. She collapsed to the ground, her monstrous form barely visible through the inferno, her screams echoing like the howl of something far older and more terrible than they could comprehend.
The smoke surged, choking and relentless, snuffing out the lanternlight and blotting out everything around them. Darkness descended¡ªcold, infinite, and suffocating. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, with a violent lurch, the world shifted.
They were outside again.
The garish lights of the carnival still glowed faintly, but the sounds of laughter and cheer had vanished. The streets were empty now, the once-bustling fairgrounds eerily quiet. The colorful tents stood abandoned, their vibrant colors muted in the dim light. It was late¡ªfar too late.
They checked their HUDs.
2:00 AM.
Time had slipped through their fingers in the crone¡¯s pocket dimension.
Jace turned, his breath catching in his chest as his eyes scanned the spot where the tent had stood. It was gone, leaving nothing but the faint scent of smoke lingering in the still air. Somewhere in the distance, the faint echo of the crone¡¯s final, haunting scream seemed to stretch out into the void.
Chapter Twenty-Two: That Night
Chapter Twenty-Two: That Night
The room was dim, the glow of the suite¡¯s privacy wards casting faint patterns across the walls. The hum of muted magic filled the space, a low thrumming like a heartbeat under the surface. Jace sat cross-legged on the edge of his bed, his brow furrowed in thought. The others were scattered around the room, their expressions ranging from tense to outright grim.
Ell broke the silence first, her tone sharp but not unkind. ¡°Alright, are we all going to pretend like that carnival wasn¡¯t one of the creepiest things we¡¯ve ever seen?¡±
Dex snorted, flopping into a chair. ¡°You mean the creepy fortune-teller tent that nearly ate us alive? Yeah, hard to forget that.¡±
¡°No, I mean all of it,¡± Ell shot back, leaning forward. ¡°The way everything felt... off. Like it was too bright, too loud. The smells, the sounds, even the people¡ªit was all just... wrong.¡±
Alice nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. ¡°It was overwhelming. My senses felt bombarded the entire time. But here¡¯s the thing¡ªnothing showed up in our HUDs. No status effects, no alerts, nothing. How is that even possible?¡±
¡°It¡¯s not supposed to be,¡± Marcus said flatly. His arms were crossed, and his usual scowl was deeper than usual. ¡°If it¡¯s not showing up in the HUD, then it¡¯s bypassing the system entirely.¡±
Jace exhaled, his hands resting on his knees. ¡°It was overriding my Word of Power,¡± he said, his voice steady but laced with unease. The statement landed like a thunderclap, drawing the room¡¯s attention. ¡°That¡¯s why I noticed it. My Truthsense wasn¡¯t working right¡ªit was like something was actively fighting it.¡±
Marcus straightened, his expression sharpening. ¡°Overriding a Word of Power? That¡¯s... not supposed to be possible.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Jace agreed. ¡°But it happened. If my Word wasn¡¯t already active, I might not have seen anything at all. And once I pointed it out, you all started noticing too, right?¡±
Ell nodded reluctantly. ¡°Yeah. I didn¡¯t catch the distortion at the ring toss until you said something, but once you did, I could see it. Like a shimmer in the air.¡±
¡°Same,¡± Alice said quietly. ¡°It¡¯s subtle, but it¡¯s there. And it gets worse the closer we get to the center of town. Out in the Commoners¡¯ Circle, it¡¯s faint. But in the Merchant District...¡± She trailed off, her meaning clear.
Dex tilted his head, frowning. ¡°But why hasn¡¯t anyone else noticed? I mean, the townspeople are acting like this is all normal. And what about higher-level Travelers? Surely they¡¯d pick up on something this big?¡±
¡°Maybe it¡¯s a Traveler-specific thing?¡± Ell suggested, her tone uncertain. ¡°Like, maybe it only affects us?¡±
¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± Alice said. ¡°There are Travelers who are way stronger than us. If this is targeting Travelers, they¡¯d see it, wouldn¡¯t they?¡±
The group fell silent, the weight of the question pressing down on them. Finally, Marcus spoke, his voice low. ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s not just a Traveler thing. Maybe it¡¯s a Jace thing.¡±
All eyes turned to Jace, who shifted under their collective gaze. ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked, though he already suspected the answer.
Marcus shrugged, his expression unreadable. ¡°You¡¯re different, Jace. We all know it. You notice things we don¡¯t. You see things we can¡¯t. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s your Word of Power, or...¡± He hesitated, his words hanging in the air like a lead weight.
¡°Or?¡± Jace prompted, though his voice was quieter now.
Marcus¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Or if it¡¯s connected to the Dark One.¡±
The room went still, the mention of the name settling like a stone in water. No one spoke, their gazes flickering to Jace as if expecting him to lash out.
¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Jace said after a moment, his voice steady but distant. ¡°You don¡¯t have to dance around it. I¡¯ve wondered the same thing. If... if it¡¯s because of him.¡±
The group exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions. Finally, Ell broke it, her tone softer now. ¡°Well, whatever the reason, it¡¯s a good thing you noticed. Because without you, we¡¯d be walking blind into... whatever this is.¡±
Jace nodded but didn¡¯t respond. Instead, his gaze drifted to the faint glow of the privacy wards, his mind turning over the possibilities, each one darker than the last.
¡°There¡¯s something else, guys.¡±
Jace¡¯s voice cut through the tension, his tone measured but heavy with significance. The group turned to him, their discomfort from the earlier conversation still hanging in the air. He hesitated, running a hand through his hair before finally speaking. ¡°I was born here. In Terra Mythica.¡±
The words landed like a thunderclap, the room going utterly silent. For a moment, no one moved, no one even breathed. Dex was the first to break the silence. ¡°Wait... what?¡± His brows furrowed, his voice tinged with disbelief.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
¡°I was born here,¡± Jace repeated, his voice steady but laced with something deeper¡ªsomething raw. ¡°My parents... they had me here. In this realm.¡±
Ell blinked, leaning back in her chair as if trying to process the revelation. ¡°Hold on. Are you saying you¡¯re not¡ªlike¡ªthe rest of us?¡±
Jace shook his head. ¡°Not exactly. My parents traveled to Earth when I was young. I grew up there, just like anyone else. But later, I came back here¡ªusing the device, just like you all did.¡±
Alice¡¯s brow furrowed, her analytical mind already piecing things together. ¡°So... you¡¯re a native? That makes you a citizen of Terra Mythica?¡±
¡°Sort of,¡± Jace said, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. I left, and when I came back, I wasn¡¯t exactly the same. I don¡¯t even know what I am now. Hades has been pretty clear about one thing, though¡ªI can¡¯t tell anyone. Not outside of this room.¡±
¡°Hades?¡± Marcus leaned forward, his voice low and sharp. ¡°Why does he care?¡±
Jace¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Because it¡¯s dangerous. If the wrong people find out, it could put me¡ªand all of you¡ªin danger. He says it could get me into trouble I can¡¯t even begin to understand.¡±
Ell let out a low whistle, her usual bravado tempered by genuine unease. ¡°Well, if there was any doubt before, that settles it. This isn¡¯t a game.¡± She gestured vaguely to the room, as if encompassing all of Terra Mythica in her words. ¡°I mean, we all knew that already, but this... this is different. It¡¯s not just real¡ªit¡¯s personal.¡±
Dex rubbed the back of his neck, his expression unreadable. ¡°Yeah. And here I thought we were just leveling up and killing bosses. Guess that¡¯s out the window.¡±
Jace took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping across the group. ¡°There¡¯s more. Hades... he evolved my abilities.¡±
Marcus stiffened, his eyes narrowing. ¡°A forced evolution?¡±
Jace nodded. ¡°Yeah. It was his way of giving me a permanent boon¡ªsomething that would stick, even if I ever separated from him. It lets me block my identity, hide my true nature. That¡¯s why the crone freaked out. She couldn¡¯t see me. Not fully.¡±
Marcus leaned back, his expression thoughtful. ¡°Forced evolutions are rare. Painful. And permanent. If Hades went that far, it means he¡¯s taking this seriously.¡±
¡°That¡¯s an understatement,¡± Jace said grimly. ¡°He¡¯s not just trying to protect me. He¡¯s trying to protect all of you too. If anyone found out who I am¡ªor what I am¡ªit wouldn¡¯t end well.¡±
The group sat in heavy silence, the weight of Jace¡¯s words settling over them like a shroud. Ell finally broke it, her voice softer than usual. ¡°You know we¡¯ve got your back, right?¡±
Jace met her gaze, the faintest hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes. ¡°I know. But this stays between us. No one else can know.¡±
They all nodded, the unspoken agreement solidifying the bond between them. The air in the room felt heavier now, charged with secrets and the unshakable reality that they were all in far deeper than they¡¯d ever realized.
The room felt heavier after Jace¡¯s revelation, the kind of weight that no privacy ward could hold back. Silence stretched as the group tried to absorb what they¡¯d just heard, the enormity of it all settling in like a storm cloud.
Marcus finally broke the stillness, his tone measured but rough around the edges. ¡°Forced evolution, huh?¡± He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°That¡¯s no small thing, Jace. Zeus did it to me once. It¡¯s rare, and yeah, it hurts like hell. But what you get out of it? That sticks. No god does that lightly.¡±
¡°What did Zeus give you?¡± Dex asked, his voice carrying a cautious curiosity.
Marcus shrugged, his expression unreadable. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. What matters is, Jace isn¡¯t kidding when he says Hades did it to protect him. A forced evolution isn¡¯t just a gift¡ªit¡¯s a gamble. Once it¡¯s done, that boon is yours, no strings attached. Even if you turn your back on the god who gave it to you.¡±
Jace nodded, his expression grim. ¡°And in this case, it¡¯s the only reason I¡¯m still standing. That¡¯s why the Soulrender reacted the way she did. My concealment¡ªit¡¯s built into me now. She couldn¡¯t see me for what I really am, and it drove her over the edge.¡±
¡°But what about what she said?¡± Alice interjected, her brow furrowed. ¡°That she had to ¡®warn them all.¡¯ What does that even mean?¡±
Jace shook his head, frustration flickering across his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know. And I¡¯m not sure I want to. Whatever it is, it¡¯s big. Bigger than us, maybe even bigger than Hades. And that scares me.¡±
The room fell into uneasy quiet again, but Ell wasn¡¯t one to let silence linger for long. ¡°Alright,¡± she said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on what we do know. Like the Tower. If you¡¯re technically a citizen of Terra Mythica, doesn¡¯t that give you some kind of edge?¡±
¡°¡®Citizen-ish¡¯ is more accurate,¡± Jace replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite the tension. ¡°I think it means I can access things that Travelers can¡¯t. At least, I hope it does. The tenth floor of the Tower? That¡¯s where we¡¯re going to find answers. About the town, the illusions¡ªmaybe even the Soulrender.¡±
¡°And the weirdness in this town?¡± Marcus asked, his tone pointed. ¡°What about that? Because while I¡¯m all for tackling the Tower, we¡¯ve got people here who are clearly in trouble.¡±
Ell crossed her arms, her expression reluctant but firm. ¡°Marcus is right. Something¡¯s going on here. Those kids, the people acting like puppets¡ªit¡¯s not normal.¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple!¡± he snapped, the sudden outburst cutting through the group¡¯s deliberations. His voice carried more than just anger¡ªit was layered with something deeper, something raw and unspoken.
The group fell silent, their gazes fixed on Jace. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Sorry,¡± he muttered, his tone softer now. ¡°But there¡¯s more. Something I haven¡¯t told you.¡±
He stood, pacing the small space, his movements restless. Finally, he stopped, turning back to face them. ¡°My mother... she was Osira. Queen of Roandia.¡±
The room went still again, the weight of his words hitting like a tidal wave. Dex blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words. Alice looked stunned, her analytical mind clearly racing to catch up. Ell let out a low whistle, shaking her head in disbelief.
¡°So... you¡¯re the last king of Roandia?¡± Marcus asked, his tone carefully neutral.
¡°Technically, yes,¡± Jace admitted, his voice strained. ¡°But it¡¯s not that simple. Hades has warned me to keep a low profile. If I try to claim anything, it¡¯ll backfire¡ªbadly. There are factions I don¡¯t understand, powers at play that could crush us before we even realize what¡¯s happening. If I make a move, we could spark a war or have thousands of Divium-ranked fighters at our doorstep.¡±
Ell frowned, leaning forward. ¡°So what do we do?¡±
Jace¡¯s expression softened, though his resolve remained firm. ¡°We keep our focus. The Tower is still our priority. But this town, these people¡ªI can¡¯t ignore them. It¡¯s not logical, I know, but I feel responsible. For the kids, for the people caught in all this. I can¡¯t explain it, but it¡¯s there.¡±
The group exchanged glances, and one by one, they nodded. Marcus sighed, crossing his arms again. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll keep digging into what¡¯s happening here. But the Tower comes first. Agreed?¡±
¡°Agreed,¡± Jace said, his voice steady. For the first time that night, he felt a small spark of hope¡ªfragile, but real.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Old Books
Chapter Twenty-Three: Old Books
The early morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains of the hotel room, casting pale stripes across the worn wooden floor. Jace sat hunched on the edge of his bed, his shoulders weighed down by thoughts far heavier than the flimsy excuse he¡¯d given the others. They¡¯d left in a flurry of laughter and anticipation, their voices echoing in the hallway, bound for the fair. He¡¯d murmured something about needing more rest, but the truth was harder to share. The revelations from the night before clung to him like shadows, every unanswered question pressing like a stone in his chest.
He wasn¡¯t going to find answers at a carnival.
Jace stood, pulling his cloak tightly around him as he slipped into the town¡¯s bustling streets. The air was crisp, the faint chill of early morning biting at his cheeks. He moved with purpose, his boots striking the cobblestones in a steady rhythm. The hotel receptionist¡¯s casual mention of a library tucked away in the Merchant District had lodged itself in his mind. A quiet place, rarely frequented by Travelers. That suited him just fine.
He needed answers¡ªabout Roandia, about his mother¡¯s kingdom, about the intricate, invisible threads that bound Terra Mythica together. Roandia was just one thread in the tapestry, but it was a noose tightening around his neck.
The streets of the Merchant District felt alive, but the wrong kind of alive. The hum of enchantments prickled at his senses, faint but constant. Merchants called out in bright, rehearsed tones, their wares glittering under illusory sunlight. The aroma of spiced pastries and roasted chestnuts mingled with the metallic tang of magic in the air, but the cheer felt brittle, like porcelain painted to hide cracks.
Then he saw it.
The building loomed at the end of a narrow, winding street, stark and defiant against the warm morning sky. Its spires jutted at impossible angles, crooked and sharp like bones breaking under their own weight. Dark stone walls pulsed faintly, as though alive, and the iron door knocker, shaped into the grotesque visage of a smirking man, seemed to sneer at him.
Jace froze, unease prickling his skin. He knew this place.
The White Raven Ring. The name alone carried the weight of memory¡ªhis first major artifact, the one that had felt more curse than gift. He hadn¡¯t given the shopkeeper much thought back then, swept up in the rush of Terra Mythica¡¯s treasures and the giddy, ignorant thrill of discovery. But now, the memory resurfaced with sharp edges, every detail stained with suspicion.
He stepped closer, his hand brushing against the iron knocker. It shifted beneath his touch, its smirk twisting unnervingly. ¡°Welcome back,¡± it rasped, its voice a grating scrape of gravel against steel. The sound made Jace¡¯s jaw clench, but before he could respond, the door creaked open on its own.
The air inside hit him like a physical force, thick with the damp, earthy scent of decay, mingled with the dry sharpness of ancient parchment and the faint metallic bite of old blood. Shelves stretched endlessly into the gloom, crammed with artifacts that glimmered faintly in the dim light. They seemed to watch him, their shapes uncanny and wrong in a way he couldn¡¯t quite define.
From the shadows emerged a figure, thin and angular as if carved from pale wax. The man moved with unsettling precision, his deathly pale skin and sharp, hollow features unchanged since their last encounter. His eyes, the color of frozen ponds, locked onto Jace with a familiarity that sent a shiver down his spine.
¡°Well,¡± the man said, his voice soft and smooth like silk over steel. ¡°You¡¯ve returned. And here I thought you¡¯d forgotten all about me.¡± He tilted his head, his thin lips curling into something that might have been a smile but felt far closer to a threat.
Jace stiffened, his hand instinctively brushing the edge of his cloak. ¡°I didn¡¯t plan on coming back.¡±
The shopkeeper¡¯s pale hands folded neatly in front of him, the movement deliberate and unsettlingly calm. ¡°Ah, but plans change, don¡¯t they? The winds of Terra Mythica have a way of blowing travelers exactly where they¡¯re meant to be.¡±
Jace¡¯s fingers itched to reach for his blade, though he knew it wouldn¡¯t do him much good here. He forced himself to meet the man¡¯s gaze, his voice steady despite the unease curling in his stomach. ¡°I need answers.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The shopkeeper chuckled softly, the sound like dry leaves crumbling underfoot. ¡°Don¡¯t we all? But answers, dear boy, come at a price.¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened. He stepped further into the shop, the door creaking shut behind him with a finality that made the hair on his neck rise. ¡°I¡¯ve paid before,¡± he said, his voice hard. ¡°You¡¯ll find I¡¯m not afraid of the cost.¡±
The shopkeeper¡¯s smile widened, and for a moment, it felt as though the shadows themselves leaned in closer, eager and hungry. ¡°Then let us see,¡± he said, gesturing toward a low table shrouded in deep green velvet. ¡°What truths you¡¯re willing to bleed for this time.¡±
Jace hesitated, his breath catching as the shadows deepened around him. Somewhere, faint and distant, he thought he heard laughter¡ªsoft, brittle, and unmistakably cruel.
¡°Ah,¡± the shopkeeper said, his voice a rich, deliberate purr that seemed to settle into the shadows around him. ¡°The boy with the ring returns. How is it treating you?¡±
Jace stepped inside, his shoulders squared. ¡°Depends,¡± he said, his voice tight. ¡°How much of what happened when I bought it was manipulation?¡±
The shopkeeper¡¯s lips curved faintly, his spindly hands folding together with unsettling grace. ¡°All of it, I¡¯m afraid,¡± he said, almost regretfully. ¡°Though I¡¯d call it necessity, not manipulation.¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, the weight of the admission gnawing at him. ¡°The blood pact?¡±
¡°Binding,¡± the shopkeeper confirmed, his tone measured, almost apologetic. ¡°But not malicious. The ring is a powerful artifact, and power always demands a cost. You were... unprepared at the time, true, but I saw potential.¡±
¡°Potential for what?¡± Jace snapped, frustration bleeding through his words. ¡°You could have warned me.¡±
The shopkeeper tilted his head, his glassy eyes catching the faint flicker of light from a hanging lantern. ¡°Would you have listened?¡± he asked softly. ¡°You were new, hungry for strength. I gave you what you needed to survive.¡± He hesitated, a shadow flickering across his pale features. ¡°And what your father would have wanted.¡±
Jace froze, his breath catching. ¡°You knew him?¡±
The shopkeeper nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. ¡°We were... acquaintances. Allies, once. Before his fall. The ring belonged to him.¡±
The revelation hit Jace like a blow to the chest. His gaze dropped to the slender band on his finger, the faint hum of its power suddenly heavier, sharper, like a blade pressed to his skin. ¡°What was he like?¡± he asked, his voice quieter now. ¡°Before...¡± The words caught in his throat, and he left the thought unfinished.
The shopkeeper¡¯s expression darkened, his voice lowering. ¡°Before the Dark One?¡± He exhaled a long, slow breath. ¡°He was a force of nature. A king, a warrior, a scholar. And a fool. But even fools can love, and he loved you, Jace. Enough to leave you something that might save you when the time came.¡±
Jace swallowed hard, the knot in his chest tightening. ¡°I don¡¯t want to destroy him,¡± he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°But if there¡¯s no other way... I¡¯ll do what I have to.¡±
For a moment, the shopkeeper¡¯s gaze softened, a flicker of something that might have been sympathy crossing his face. ¡°I don¡¯t envy your path,¡± he said quietly. ¡°But I¡¯ll give you this¡ªthere are still pieces of him worth saving. If you can find them.¡±
The words lingered in the air between them, heavy with possibility and pain. Jace turned to leave, but the shopkeeper¡¯s voice called after him, halting him in his tracks.
¡°My shop,¡± the man said, his tone shifting to something almost whimsical, ¡°people find it when they need it. It is both a cure and a gift. And you, boy¡ªyou need something. What are you searching for?¡±
Jace hesitated, the instinct to deny the question rising to his lips. But then he thought of Roandia, of the questions that haunted him, unanswered. The truth of his place in the tangled web of its history. ¡°Do you have anything on the history of Roandia?¡± he asked, his voice steady, though his heart raced.
The shopkeeper¡¯s smile deepened, as if he had been expecting the question all along. Without a word, he turned and began rummaging through the towering shelves, his pale hands moving with a surprising deftness. After a moment, he pulled a massive, dust-covered tome from the shadows, its cracked leather cover embossed with faded gold script.
Jace raised an eyebrow. ¡°Price?¡±
The shopkeeper chuckled softly, a dry, rasping sound. ¡°This is no artifact,¡± he said, brushing a speck of dust from the book¡¯s surface. ¡°And so, the price is mine to set. For this one, we¡¯ll consider it paid for you giving an old man a bit of hope.¡±
Jace blinked, surprised, but he took the book without another word. He left the shop with the tome tucked under his arm, the strange building seeming to fold in on itself as he walked away. The streets outside felt colder now, the cheerful hum of the town¡¯s festivities clashing against the storm that churned in his mind.
He moved on autopilot, his feet carrying him to the edge of town. Spotting a low rooftop near the gates, he vaulted upward with practiced ease, settling into the relative quiet of the spot. The carnival lights flickered faintly in the distance, their warmth a stark contrast to the chill seeping into his bones.
Jace opened the book, its thick pages crackling with age. As he read, the weight of the shopkeeper¡¯s words pressed heavier on his chest. The history of Roandia unfolded before him, each passage laden with truths he wasn¡¯t sure he was ready to face. Yet he kept reading, the words pulling him deeper, the storm within him finding a focus.
For now, the world fell away, leaving only the ancient tome and the questions that demanded answers.
Chapter Four-Two: Memories
Chapter Four-Two: Memories
Jace crouched low on the rooftop, the wind clawing at his cloak as he prepared to test the limits of his newly acquired ability. The Shift felt strange, unfamiliar¡ªa gift from Hades forced into him, taking the place of the abilities he¡¯d once mastered. He could feel it thrumming beneath his skin, delicate and volatile, waiting for his command.
He focused, drawing on that strange tether of power. It felt like pulling on threads in a tapestry, each one shifting and rippling through reality. With a sharp inhale, he willed the Shift forward. The world around him blurred, bending at the edges as his form flickered¡ªand suddenly, he was on the opposite rooftop.
His landing wasn¡¯t graceful. His boots skidded against the slanted tiles, arms pinwheeling as he nearly tumbled backward into the void. He steadied himself, chest heaving, heart hammering in his ears. ¡°Okay,¡± he muttered to himself, brushing frost from his gloves. ¡°That¡¯s a little touchier than I thought.¡±
He tried again, narrowing his focus. This time, the Shift snapped more quickly, the sensation akin to being plucked by an unseen force and dropped somewhere new. He reappeared on a narrow wall, wobbling as his momentum carried him forward, nearly launching himself into the stone side of a building. His hands shot out to catch himself, the impact jarring but manageable.
¡°Great,¡± he said with a wry grin. ¡°Superpowered parkour.¡±
But as he practiced, the ability began to reveal its intricacies. It wasn¡¯t a brute force skill like the ones he¡¯d used before. It required finesse, timing, and an awareness of the delicate balance between dimensions. The Shift wasn¡¯t just about movement¡ªit was a tool for precision. He experimented, flickering short distances in rapid succession, then stretching the ability for longer leaps. The transitions became smoother, the landings more controlled.
He jumped again, twisting mid-air, and appeared atop a lamppost with a snap of displaced air. The glow of the Etheric cloak cast a faint shadow as he crouched there, his balance steady. ¡°Okay,¡± he murmured, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡±
Testing its finer uses, he discovered it wasn¡¯t just about escaping or reaching higher ground. With a small burst of energy, he shifted through a low awning, reappearing just beneath it, standing in the shadows. He grinned. This version wasn¡¯t just faster¡ªit was smarter. The delicate touch allowed him to maneuver through tight spaces or bypass obstacles entirely.
Still, it wasn¡¯t perfect. When he tried to stretch the Shift too far, the threads of energy resisted, snapping him back with enough force to throw him off balance. He landed hard on his side, skidding across the cobblestones, his breath escaping in a sharp hiss. ¡°Damn it,¡± he groaned, pushing himself up. The ability demanded respect¡ªevery flicker of it a dance on the edge of precision and chaos.
Jace stood, brushing himself off. He wasn¡¯t quite smooth yet, but he was getting there. Each mistake taught him something: how to read the flow of energy, how to bend without breaking. As the frozen wind howled around him, he realized this power wasn¡¯t just another tool in his arsenal¡ªit was an evolution, a step closer to the edge of something greater. And Hades hadn¡¯t given it to him out of charity.
After a bit of a bumble and a stumble, he finally settled on the roof near the town gates, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air. Below him, the town bustled faintly, but the sounds were muffled, distant. He pulled the ancient tome from his satchel, its cracked spine creaking softly as he opened it.
The pages smelled of age and secrets, their edges frayed and delicate. By the faint light of the moons, Jace traced the faded script and the detailed sketches that accompanied it. The history of Roandia unfolded slowly, each passage drawing him deeper into its story.
Roandia had been a neutral kingdom, a place where all gods and their followers could coexist without fear of conflict. Its central location made it the heart of Terra Mythica, a sanctuary for those seeking refuge or resolution. The Tower had stood even then, a monolithic structure that pierced the heavens, and the Games had drawn competitors from every corner of the land, uniting the pantheons in shared trials and spectacles.
The kingdom had flourished under Osira¡¯s rule. She had been a queen of unparalleled wisdom and strength, welcoming all peoples¡ªmortals and divine alike. Each culture left its mark, blending into a tapestry of traditions and alliances. Roandia¡¯s markets had been filled with goods from every region, its temples dedicated to all gods, its streets alive with a harmony rarely seen in Terra Mythica.
But the golden age hadn¡¯t lasted. The text grew darker, the words heavier as they chronicled the kingdom¡¯s fall. Tensions between the gods had bled into the mortal realm, and Roandia, despite its neutrality, became a battlefield. The Tower, once a symbol of unity, became a prize for the gods¡¯ champions, its trials twisted by ambition and greed.
The king and queen had fought to protect her people, but the text made clear the odds had been insurmountable. She had died in the final siege, her death marking the kingdom¡¯s collapse. Her people scattered, the Tower abandoned for centuries, and the neutral haven became a memory, whispered among those who still remembered the old ways.
Jace¡¯s breath caught as he turned the page to a sketch. It was a simple charcoal rendering of the queen, but the details were unmistakable. A woman stood tall, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders, her expression serene yet commanding. Her face was regal, sharp, and full of strength. Jace¡¯s breath hitched as recognition clawed at his chest.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Osira. His mother.
His fingers trembled as he touched the edge of the drawing, as if afraid it might dissolve beneath his touch. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling silently down his cheeks. The weight of her gaze from the sketch pressed into him like a physical thing, the faint hint of a smile on her lips both a comfort and a torment.
The passage beneath the image detailed her rule¡ªa golden age of wisdom and strength. But the golden age had not lasted. Roandia had fallen, and Osira had died defending it. The words were clinical, devoid of emotion, but they struck Jace harder than any blow. He read and reread the lines, trying to force them to mean something different, something less final.
But something didn¡¯t add up. The tome made no mention of her being a Traveler. Yet Jace knew the truth. He had seen it in the fractured memories of Henry¡ªthe Dark One. Unless Henry had lied, which was always possible. But if what Jace had seen was true, Osira had been a Traveler, just like him. And when she had died, she must have respawned.
The book confirmed the first part of that story. After her death, Osira had vanished. No one had seen her again. The kingdom had crumbled, its people scattering like leaves in the wind.
Jace stared at the sketch, his tears falling faster now. There was something about her face that tugged at him, deeper than the connection of blood. It was a familiarity beyond the memories of childhood.
And then it struck him.
The memory bloomed sharp and vivid: the dim glow of the tavern in Havenstown, the murmur of conversations weaving through the smoky air, and the haunting melody of the traveling bard. Her voice had carried a sorrow that seemed to touch every shadowed corner of the room, a bittersweet lament that had left a knot in his chest long after the final note faded.
Osira.
Alive. Unaware of who she had been, of what she had lost. The realization hit Jace with the force of a gale, tearing through him and leaving him unmoored. A sob clawed its way from his throat, unbidden and raw. She had been there, so close that he could have reached out and touched her, and yet he hadn¡¯t known. She hadn¡¯t known. She couldn¡¯t have. Her memories would have been wiped clean during the respawn.
The song returned to him in fragments¡ªnot its words, but its essence. A melody woven with aching sorrow and fragile hope. It was like trying to hold onto the memory of a dream as it slipped through his fingers, ephemeral and bittersweet. His heart clenched as the truth settled deep within him: that voice, that sorrow, had been his mother¡¯s.
His breath hitched as his legs gave way, sending him to his knees on the rooftop. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, as if to block out the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The tears came anyway, warm and unrelenting. He wanted to scream, to curse the gods who had crafted such a cruel twist of fate. Instead, all that emerged was a choked whisper. ¡°She was right there.¡±
Part of him wanted to act on pure instinct, to leap from the rooftop and open a portal, the magic arcing him back to Havenstown faster than reason could catch up. Maybe she was still there, singing her haunting songs in some quiet corner of the tavern. Maybe if she saw him, if he looked into her eyes, something would stir¡ªsome spark of recognition. Some part of her would remember.
But reason clawed its way back, cold and unyielding. She was a traveling bard. She wouldn¡¯t stay in one place for long, moving on to the next town, the next tavern, the next audience to carry her songs away like leaves in the wind. And even if she was still there, what could he possibly say? Hi, Mom. I¡¯m your son, the one you don¡¯t remember, from a life you can¡¯t recall.
The thought twisted like a knife in his chest. His breath shuddered as he scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, wiping away the tears that refused to stop. He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, grounding himself in the sting. He couldn¡¯t chase ghosts. Not now. Not when there was so much he didn¡¯t understand, so much he hadn¡¯t yet uncovered about this world and the forces that governed it.
But one day¡ one day, when he had the answers he sought, when he had unraveled the mysteries that bound him to this place, he would find her again. He would help her remember who she was, who they were. And he would look her in the eyes and tell her everything.
Just not today. He felt some warmth in knowing that, though she didn¡¯t know who he was, she was happy. She was singing.
He rose, the weight in his chest settling into something cold and resolute. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and turned away from the skyline. There was no room for what-ifs or might-have-beens. Not yet. For now, he had to move forward.
The sun hovered low, the horizon a burning painting of crimson and amethyst, the last remnants of daylight fading into the yawning void of night. Darkness didn¡¯t just descend¡ªit seeped, deliberate and unyielding, carrying the promise of a ceremony that loomed heavy in the air. Jace closed the tome in his lap with deliberate care, the ancient leather cover creaking in quiet protest. The weight of its secrets pressed against his chest like an iron shackle.
Steeling himself, the crisp bite of evening stinging his skin. Just as he turned, laughter rang out¡ªa sharp, cutting sound that stopped him cold. He strained to hear, the voice that followed familiar and laced with derision.
He sent the book into his inventory.
It wouldn¡¯t be long before he needed to leave for the Welcome Ceremony, but as Jace turned toward the hotel, a commotion caught his attention¡ªlaughter, loud and biting, accompanied by a voice he had recently heard for the first time. His gaze followed the sound, sharp and searching.
Amidst the group below, one figure stood out: Caspen.
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, his breath steadying as he slipped into the shadows. His Etheric cloak shimmered faintly, melding him into the dark like a specter. The rooftop tiles were cold and slick beneath his boots, but he moved with practiced silence, his steps calculated and sure.
From above, he tracked them, his ears straining to catch the fragmented words rising from the street.
¡°¡peasant scum¡ teaching them manners¡¡± Caspen¡¯s voice carried easily, dripping with cruel amusement. Laughter followed, sharp and mocking, curling like smoke into the frigid night.
Laughter followed, a sound so hollow it made Jace¡¯s stomach knot. His movements were precise, each step silent as he kept to the shadows above, his vantage offering a grim clarity. The others¡ªthe jocks from the academy¡ªjeered and exchanged mocking jibes, their camaraderie steeped in malice.
He didn¡¯t know their exact plans, but he didn¡¯t need to. Their laughter, Caspen¡¯s arrogant drawl, the clenched fists of those who followed¡ªall painted a clear enough picture.
Jace¡¯s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his dagger as he continued his pursuit. He wouldn¡¯t let them finish whatever they¡¯d started. Not tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Wordrot
Chapter Twenty-Five: Wordrot
The Common District came into view, its rooftops a jagged skyline against the murky glow of distant lanterns. Jace crouched low, then leapt. His movements were fluid, almost predatory, as he ascended with an effortless grace. He landed silently on a rooftop, crouching there like a shadow given form. Below, the street lay quiet, save for the occasional burst of distant laughter, muffled and faint.
He scanned the houses. The windows glinted coldly, their interiors silent and still. Jace could feel the families inside, the children huddled together, their tiny sparks of life dimmed by fear. His gut twisted.
They deserved better.
He clenched his fists, the memory of those days on the streets gnawing at the edges of his resolve. Back then, survival had been a lonely, bitter game. No one had stepped in; no one had cared. It was always ¡°somebody else¡¯s problem.¡± The words echoed in his mind, bitter and sharp. The best way to hide evil wasn¡¯t to make it invisible¡ªit was to make it irrelevant, unnoticed, buried under the excuse of apathy.
Jace exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the cool night air. He wasn¡¯t that scared kid anymore. He had power now, enough to stop being a passive observer in a world that thrived on indifference.
The street stretched out before him, empty but for shadows. He made his decision.
Every good thing in Jace''s life had come when he refused to let things stay somebody else¡¯s problem. When he dared to think, maybe I can make a difference. Sure, pain came with it¡ªloss, heartache¡ªbut so did adventure and growth. If he¡¯d looked the other way when he first met Dex, he wouldn¡¯t have gained a friend. Thistle would be dead, not recovering. So many moments, so many lives intertwined because he chose to act.
And this city? It was no different.
Movement caught his eye below. A group of nobles¡ªforeigners, by their dress¡ªstrolled down the street, their laughter cutting through the stillness. He recognized some of the intricate patterns on their cloaks. Two were from the Egyptian district, their dark silks embroidered with gold ankhs, and the others hailed from the Norse zone, their fur-lined coats marked by subtle runes. Five in total, their camaraderie loose and boisterous, like young nobles testing the limits of their freedom.
They looked jockish¡ªbroad shoulders, too much swagger in their steps. Winter wine, probably. The sharp, sour tang of it lingered faintly in the air as they passed. One kicked at a stray rock, sending it skittering into the shadows, while another tossed a pebble at a nearby house. The stone pinged harmlessly off the wooden siding, but Jace¡¯s jaw tightened.
He Shifted silently, keeping to the rooftops, moving like smoke on the wind. As he tracked them, his eyes narrowed on one of the Norsemen.
Then he saw them.
Farther down the street, just at the edge of the district, dark figures emerged from the night. At first, they were indistinct shapes, but as Jace shifted closer, he realized there were dozens¡ªno, hundreds. A line of people trudging forward, heads bowed low, their silhouettes stark against the cold light of the moon.
They came from the farmlands, their slow, weary march taking them toward the Commoners'' district. The air around them seemed heavier, charged with a quiet despair. Jace froze, crouched on the roof, watching the line stretch out into the distance.
Each figure trudging forward had something wrapped around their faces and arms. In the obscured moonlight, it looked like golden rope¡ªthick and shimmering faintly beneath the shifting gray of snow clouds above.
Flakes began to fall again, soft at first, gradually building into a swirling cascade. The air grew heavier, the muffled crunch of snow underfoot the only sound as the line of figures drew closer to the Commoners'' district.
Ahead, one of the noblemen noticed them. ¡°Hey, look who¡¯s here,¡± he said, his voice loud enough to echo off the empty streets.
The group paused, their attention shifting to the line of trudging farmworkers. One of them, a tall Norseman with a fur-lined cloak, hesitated, casting a glance at the others. His steps faltered, but he fell in with the group as they sauntered toward the farmers. The rest radiated rowdy arrogance, emboldened by their numbers and the sharp bite of winter wine in their blood.
They surrounded a man and a woman from the line. The couple didn¡¯t look up, their faces half-concealed by the golden wraps.
¡°Hey, you deaf or something?¡± one of the nobles jeered. His tone dripped mockery. ¡°Just a couple of Wordrots.¡±
The word landed like a slap, heavy and deliberate. Others joined in, each chanting, Wordrot, Wordrot. The taunts came fast, punctuated by sharp laughter. The man and woman didn¡¯t respond, their silence only feeding the group¡¯s cruelty.
One of the noblemen, shorter but broad-shouldered, shifted uncomfortably. ¡°All right, we¡¯ve had our fun. Let¡¯s head back,¡± he muttered, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting someone to call them out.
The others stopped, their grins turning sharp. ¡°What¡¯s the rush? We¡¯re just getting started,¡± another said, his voice carrying an edge of menace. He smirked and gestured toward the man. ¡°What about him? Is he a Wordrot too?¡±
The reluctant one shook his head quickly. ¡°No. He¡¯s not.¡± His tone was firm, but his unease was clear.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The smirker¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Then prove it. Hit him.¡±
The tension thickened. The reluctant noble swallowed hard, glancing at the others. Their stares bore into him, hard and expectant. A second passed. Then another.
¡°You gonna let us think you¡¯re soft?¡± someone pressed. ¡°Maybe we should report you. What if you¡¯re a dirty little Wordrot?¡±
The words hit their mark. Slowly, reluctantly, the man stepped forward. He raised a hand and struck the farmer¡ªa single blow to the face. The man staggered, his knees buckling as he crumpled to the snow. He didn¡¯t fight back.
Jace watched from the rooftop, his jaw tightening as the scene unfolded. The others stepped closer, their jeers intensifying. One raised a boot, ready to kick, but the woman moved between them. Her eyes pleaded silently, her body trembling but resolute.
Jace frowned. Why doesn¡¯t he fight back?
The other farmers stood in clusters nearby, watching. Some slipped into their homes, their doors closing softly behind them. None stepped forward.
A creak broke the stillness as the door to one of the nearby houses opened. A boy stood there, his face ruddy and smeared with mud. Jace recognized him¡ªit was the boy he¡¯d met earlier.
¡°Hey!¡± the boy shouted, his voice fierce despite the quaver in it.
The man and woman scrambled to their feet, rushing toward him. They didn¡¯t speak, only motioning frantically for him to get back inside. The boy resisted, planting his feet stubbornly in the doorway.
The nobles turned toward him. One sneered, his voice low and venomous. ¡°What do we have here? The runt of a Liar. Maybe we ought to teach him his place, huh? Don¡¯t want to end up like your parents, do you?¡±
The boy¡¯s parents tried to mime apologies, their gestures desperate. The man raised a hand as if to stop the inevitable. One of the goons loomed closer, raising a fist toward the boy.
The man¡¯s anger flared, raw and searing. It blazed in his eyes as his hand shot up, and a golden rod materialized, crackling with energy. The weapon shimmered in the cold light, lengthening as he raised it high, preparing to bring it down with brutal force.
Jace moved instinctively, the world narrowing to the boy and his parents. He Shifted, reappearing beside them, his body vibrating with the sudden transition. Without hesitation, he grabbed them¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t attempted before with his new abilities¡ªand Shifted again, dragging them a few feet away. The sensation was disorienting, like being yanked through thick, syrupy air, but the gamble paid off. The golden rod smashed into the ground where they¡¯d stood moments before, sending shards of ice and snow scattering. Jace staggered slightly but grinned grimly. Much better, he thought. It hadn¡¯t drained all his aether, and that was progress.
Before they could recover, he Shifted again, this time appearing behind the group of nobles. They spun toward him, their expressions darkening. One sneered, gripping the golden rod that had now extended into a full staff. He swung it in an arc, the air humming with power as it moved. ¡°What do we have here, eh? A Rot sympathizer?¡±
The fight erupted in a chaotic blur. Jace ducked under the swing of the golden staff, his movements fluid and precise. He called forth his Shadow Weapon, the dark energy coalescing into a heavy club. The weapon thrummed in his grip as he swung it, aiming for non-lethal blows. Not that I don¡¯t want to break something, he admitted to himself, but he held back, teeth gritted.
The first noble crumpled under the weight of the club, collapsing with a grunt. Jace Shifted again, dodging a blast of force that erupted from the outstretched hand of another. The air shimmered where the attack passed, close enough to ruffle his cloak. He spun, bringing the club down on the next man¡¯s shoulder. The impact reverberated up his arm as the man staggered and fell.
A sharp burst of pain flared in his side as one of the others struck him. Jace stumbled, a hiss escaping his lips as he turned to face the remaining three. Each was armed with unique powers: force blasts, crackling energy, and the devastating reach of the golden staff. They moved with a practiced precision that made Jace¡¯s stomach twist. These weren¡¯t just drunk fools¡ªthey knew how to fight.
The odds turned quickly. A blast of energy caught him in the chest, throwing him back against a snowbank. Another strike landed on his shoulder, numbing his arm. His health plummeted, the bar in his peripheral vision flashing red. Panic flared, but then his aether surged, warmth spreading through his body as the healing kicked in. The wounds closed slightly, enough to keep him standing, but not enough to turn the tide.
Jace swung his Shadow Weapon wildly, catching one of them across the knee. He threw out his Soul Chains, the dark tendrils wrapping around another¡¯s arms and yanking them back. But it wasn¡¯t enough. A sharp blow to his ribs sent him reeling, his vision blurring as his health dipped again.
The last thing he saw before his knees buckled was the golden staff rising high above him. The noble who wielded it smirked, his features unnervingly familiar. Jace blinked.
And then the rod came down.
Out of nowhere, a blur sliced through the chaos¡ªa lithe figure, a woman dressed in black, her face shrouded beneath a dark veil. She moved like a shadow come to life, fluid and unpredictable, her every step precise yet almost impossible to track.
Jace barely registered her arrival before she struck. A whirlwind of kicks, punches, and strikes landed on the nobles, each hit quick and deliberate. None of the blows seemed powerful enough to incapacitate, but they came in relentless succession. A dozen strikes. Then another dozen. The nobles tried to retaliate, their weapons swinging through empty air, their powers fizzling against her sheer speed and agility.
She was untouchable.
Frustration turned to panic as the nobles realized they couldn¡¯t land a single blow. One by one, they broke ranks and ran, their bravado crumbling under the relentless assault. Within moments, the street was silent again, save for the faint crunch of their retreating footsteps in the snow.
The figure stood motionless, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the shifting clouds. The curve of her form, subtle and deliberate, left little doubt that it was a woman, though every other detail seemed obscured, shrouded in an unnatural haze. Jace¡¯s Truthsense flickered uselessly against her presence, as if she were a shadow slipped through the cracks of reality, her very essence defying his grasp.
Her head tilted ever so slightly in his direction¡ªa gesture that felt intimate and unnerving all at once, like a silent acknowledgment meant only for him. A mask obscured her face, its surface smooth and featureless save for faint, intricate carvings that seemed to shift when he looked directly at them. It was as if the mask itself was alive, reflecting no identity, only a barrier to the truth he sought.
And then she was gone, vanishing in a gust of wind that stirred the snow at his feet.
Jace sat there in stunned silence, the adrenaline draining from his body as the pain of his wounds resurfaced. He glanced toward the house. The man, woman, and boy were inside now, safe. The boy¡¯s face peeked through the frost-clouded window, his wide eyes fixed on Jace.
Jace mustered his best "I''m alright" wave, though every movement sent sharp pangs through his battered body. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet, gritting his teeth as he channeled his remaining aether to heal his injuries. The warmth spread through his limbs, knitting flesh and dulling pain, but the process left him light-headed.
Grabbing a handful of snow, he cleaned the blood and dirt from his face, ran a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to fix it, and adjusted his cloak.
He was late. The Welcome Ceremony was waiting, and he could already imagine Dex''s snarky comments. With a weary sigh, he started moving, each step a little steadier than the last.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Welcome Ceremony
Chapter Twenty-Six: Welcome Ceremony
The Welcome Ceremony venue towered before him, a breathtaking fusion of artistry and power. Spiraling columns, carved with intricate runes that seemed to hum with dormant energy, stretched skyward like ancient sentinels. Their surfaces shimmered faintly in the glow of ethereal light. The building itself sprawled along the edge of the Inner Circle, a testament to grandeur that dwarfed even the opulent avenues they had traversed to reach it. Warm light poured from massive arched entrances, each glowing with enchantments that warded off the evening chill.
Jace reached the ceremonial hall, feeling the weight of more than a few curious stares. A quick glance at his reflection in a polished surface told him why¡ªhe looked as bad as he felt, like someone who had just lost a brawl with a runaway carriage.
Before he could gather himself, Marcus appeared at his side, his expression a mix of exasperation and disbelief. ¡°What the hell happened to you?¡± he hissed. ¡°Wait¡ªdon¡¯t tell me. I don¡¯t actually want to know. You look awful. I''ve seen better on the bottom of a farmer¡¯s boot.¡±
Jace opened his mouth to respond, but Marcus waved him off. ¡°Save it. Come on.¡± He dragged Jace into a shadowed corner. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you make us all look bad. They¡¯ll think we¡¯re a pack of heathens. Here.¡± He thrust a small crystal into Jace¡¯s hand.
Jace blinked at it, recognizing the artifact from a previous outing. Marcus had used one after their last trip to town. With a resigned sigh, Jace activated it. A swirl of soft blue magic enveloped him, lifting away grime and exhaustion. His skin felt clean, his hair freshly combed, and his clothes pressed.
¡°Better,¡± Marcus muttered, scrutinizing him like a particularly fussy tailor. ¡°Now, tell me you¡¯ve got proper formal attire.¡±
Jace nodded and summoned his semi-formal outfit. The tunic was dark with subtle silver embroidery along the edges, the material shimmering faintly under the enchanted lights. A fitted jacket completed the look, its clean lines lending him a sharp, dignified air. His boots were polished to a mirror shine, a minor miracle considering how rough the day had been.
Marcus gave a reluctant nod, then grimaced. ¡°It¡¯ll have to do. At least you don¡¯t look like roadkill anymore.¡± He straightened Jace¡¯s collar with a sharp tug. ¡°Try not to embarrass us.¡±
Together, they stepped out to rejoin the others. Dex, Ell, Alice, and Molly were already waiting, their outfits striking a balance between individuality and the semi-formal dress code.
Dressed in his newly cleaned attire, Jace couldn¡¯t help but feel a little out of place, though he said nothing as they followed the steady stream of participants and spectators into the venue. Enchanted sigils glowed at intervals, their soft light guiding the flow of the crowd with effortless precision. The space inside was nothing short of awe-inspiring¡ªcolossal tiered seating that climbed so high Jace could barely see the uppermost rows, all filled with eager faces. The main floor stretched wide enough to host an army, and balconies above shimmered with nobles in finery that sparkled like the night sky, lending the space an air of exclusive majesty.
The Olympus contingent settled into their section, a modest group of a few hundred amid the thousands assembled. The hum of excitement filled the hall, voices blending into a rising tide of anticipation. Jace scanned the noble balconies, his gaze lingering for a moment, though even he wasn¡¯t sure who¡ªor what¡ªhe was looking for.
Dex leaned over, his sharp eyes catching Jace¡¯s distracted expression. ¡°What¡¯s eating you?¡±
Alice glanced over as well, her brow creased with concern. ¡°You okay?¡±
Jace hesitated, then shook his head. ¡°Later,¡± he said quietly, offering a faint smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes.
The restless hum of the crowd faltered, thinning into a curious silence as the herald ascended the stage. His ceremonial robes, weighed down by intricate sigils that glimmered faintly like embers beneath the light, swayed with his measured movements. Planting his staff into the wooden planks with a commanding thud.
¡°Peoples of Stronghold,¡± the herald began, his voice a resonant melody that carried effortlessly over the crowd, cutting through the chilled air. ¡°Today, you stand beneath the unyielding gaze of our ancestors, within the sanctity of the city¡¯s holy barrier, to partake in a tradition as old as the stones beneath our feet.¡± He let the silence linger for a heartbeat, a practice in showmanship.
¡°And now, as custom decrees,¡± he continued, his tone dipping into reverence, ¡°we are honored to welcome the guiding hand of our city¡¯s esteemed Regent¡ªKoren Klaventaire, Custodian of the Tower, Arbiter of our trials, and the steadfast guardian of the Tower.¡±
The crowd shifted, eyes drawn forward as a man emerged from the shadows of the wings. Koren Klaventaire strode into view, his footsteps deliberate, boots striking the wood with a clipped precision that spoke of calculated authority. A faint smirk curled at the edges of his mouth. His gaze swept across the assembly like a blade seeking its mark as he took center stage.
¡°Citizens and esteemed visitors alike,¡± Koren began, his voice warm with an undertone of iron. ¡°Our trials are not merely burdens; they are the crucible in which we are forged. Look around you¡ªat these streets, at each other. This city stands because of its people, and because we will not kneel to the darkness that presses against our walls.¡±
The crowd leaned in, tension crackling in the air. Koren¡¯s gaze lingered on a cluster of knights near the stage, his words sharpened by a bright smile. ¡°Together, we will ensure the Stronghold does not merely survive¡ªit will endure. And for those who falter¡ the Tower is always watching.¡±
Slick-haired and perfectly tailored, Koren¡¯s presence exuded a practiced authority that felt more polished than genuine. He paused, letting the crowd¡¯s murmur of approval swell before raising his hands to call for silence.
¡°Welcome,¡± he said, his voice magically amplified but smooth as polished stone. ¡°Welcome to this year¡¯s Winter Games!¡±
The crowd responded with applause, scattered cheers breaking out before quieting again. Koren smiled as though every face in the room was his favorite person.
¡°As always, the Tower awaits you. Its trials stand as the ultimate test of your strength, cunning, and will. Each floor conquered brings rewards, recognition, and the chance to leave your mark on history."
"And now, let us honor our esteemed benefactors for this year and unveil the prizes that await you. For those who reach the second floor, our allied kingdoms have generously bestowed a trove of treasures¡ªrewards to celebrate the bravery of those who dare to step into the unknown."
At Koren¡¯s signal, attendants emerged from opposite sides of the stage, their movements as synchronized as a well-practiced dance. They carried three massive chests, each crafted to reflect the rich heritage of its donor kingdom. The chests gleamed under the light, their intricate designs pulling gasps from the crowd as they were brought to the forefront of the stage.
The Regent¡¯s voice rang clear over the hushed crowd as the first massive chest was opened on the stage by attendants clad in robes of frosted blues and grays.
"From the Lands of Eternal Frost," he announced, his words steeped in reverence. The chest, crafted from dark oak, bore swirling carvings of wolves prowling through ancient forests, their forms entwined with twisting trees. Polished silver reinforced its edges, glinting beneath the stage¡¯s enchanted lights. When the lid was raised fully, there were respectable nods of approvals throughout the audience. Inside lay rows of hand-forged talismans, and bottles of magic meads, their amber hues catching the light. A ripple of pride surged through the Slavic delegation as they rose in unison. They clasped their hands to their chests and bowed deeply. The crowd responded with cheers and scattered applause.
The second chest was brought forward, its bearers adorned in feathered headdresses and golden sashes. "From the Realm of the Sunborn," Koren declared. The chest itself was a spectacle¡ªhewn from volcanic obsidian that gleamed with an inner fire and traced with golden inlays depicting feathered serpents, jaguars, and radiant sunbursts. Gasps of admiration rippled through the audience as the chest opened, revealing ceremonial cloaks woven from threads of gold and crimson, their intricate designs radiating an aura of strength. These cloaks, Koren explained, granted the wearer agility and resilience beyond mortal limits. Beneath them lay obsidian daggers, their edges gleaming with predatory sharpness, their leather-wrapped hilts a testament to ancient craftsmanship. The Aztec delegation erupted in a rhythmic chant, stamping their feet in unison as their pride echoed through the square. The crowd clapped and cheered, swept up in the fervor.
The third chest appeared next, carried by attendants moving with the quiet grace of a spring breeze. "From the Blossoming Horizon," Koren announced, his voice softening in deference. The chest, lacquered in a flawless black sheen, was adorned with golden cherry blossoms so delicately rendered they seemed alive, swaying in an invisible breeze. When opened, it revealed rows of intricately carved talismans, each tied with silk threads in hues of red and gold. The Regent gestured toward them with a solemn nod. "These charms offer blessings of health, protection, and fortune to those who carry them." The Shinto delegation stood silently, their heads bowed in serene reverence, a contrast to the raucous pride of the others. The crowd mirrored their bow, their cheers quieting to murmurs of appreciation for the elegance on display.
The chests, each as distinct as the lands they represented, cast an enchanting spell over the crowd. The air shimmered with a palpable mix of reverence, pride, and wonder, transforming the ceremony into a celebration that felt eternal¡ªa vivid tapestry of the world¡¯s shared magics on full display. Or so it seemed to Jace.
From his vantage point, it was easy to get swept up in the moment, but a glance toward the noble tiers told a different story. Many of the nobles sat with the disinterest of seasoned attendees, their expressions calm, almost indifferent. To them, this might have been just another show in a long series of such spectacles. Was he being silly, letting himself be carried away? The thought lingered as he studied their detached faces.
Then he turned to his friends. Ell¡¯s wide eyes glinted with the light of the treasures, a grin tugging at her lips. Alice¡¯s hands were clasped tightly, her focus unwavering. Even Marcus, normally so composed, looked caught in the current of awe. Their expressions mirrored his own¡ªthe kind of awe that made the world seem brighter, richer, more alive.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Jace let out a soft laugh, more at himself than anyone else. Maybe it wasn¡¯t just the treasures or the ceremony; maybe it was seeing that glimmer of magic reflected in those he cared about. He smiled and turned his attention back to the stage, letting the enchantment carry him along with the moment.
"Did Olympus donate anything, you think?" Jace murmured to Dex, his voice low enough not to draw attention.
Dex shook his head slightly, leaning in just enough to reply. "Nah, pretty sure they were off the hook this year. Heard we were the big benefactors last time around. They rotate it, or something like that."
Marcus leaned forward and shot them a sharp look, his brow furrowed in frustration. ¡°Shhhh.¡±
Jace and Dex raised their hands simultaneously, palms out in exaggerated mock surrender, their faces the picture of innocence. Their grins betrayed them, though, as they exchanged a quick glance. Marcus sighed, shaking his head.
The stage cleared, its expanse left bare for a brief moment before the attendants returned, carrying singular treasures that gleamed under the enchanted lights. Each was a masterwork: swords with edges that seemed to drink in the light, hammers etched with celestial patterns, and armor sets that gleamed with an otherworldly sheen.
Koren¡¯s voice rang out, commanding the attention of the crowd. ¡°The rewards for the fourth floor,¡± he declared, his tone rich with anticipation, ¡°are beyond extraordinary, offered by the illustrious kingdom of Asgard. Anyone who reaches the fifth floor will have the honor of choosing from these extraordinary items," Koren announced, his voice resonating with gravity. "But for the first participant to cross into the seventh floor, this singular prize awaits."
The audience hushed, as four towering Asgardian warriors emerged. Clad in ceremonial armor adorned with intricate runes, they moved with a measured precision that spoke of both discipline and strength. Between them, they carried a single immense chest¡ªcrafted from blackened iron, its surface glowing faintly with golden inscriptions that pulsed as though alive. The air seemed to thrum with restrained power.
In perfect synchronization, the warriors lowered the chest to the center of the stage. A moment of reverent stillness followed before they opened the lid, revealing the prize within: a suit of armor that seemed forged from sunlight itself. The chest plate radiated a warm, golden glow, as if capturing the very essence of the heavens, while the gauntlets shimmered with raw, untamed power. Every detail of the set exuded strength and majesty, a testament to the legendary craftsmanship of Asgard.
A collective gasp swept through the audience, the sheer magnificence of the armor rendering them momentarily speechless. Even the nobles seemed impressed.
The Asgardian delegation stood, their hammers raised high before they struck them against their shields in unison. The resounding clash echoed like rolling thunder, sending a ripple of awe through the crowd.
Then, like a storm breaking, the applause began¡ªscattered at first, then swelling into a thunderous roar. Once the crowd quieted, Koren continued.
¡°And for those bold enough to ascend to the fifteenth seventh,¡± Koren intoned, ¡°a Celesteel-ranked artifact awaits, a gift from the Jade Kingdom.¡±
The stage darkened slightly, as if shadows had pooled around its edges. Then, in a dazzling display of light and color, a procession of Jade Kingdom attendants glided forward. Clad in flowing robes of emerald and gold, they carried a single long chest that seemed to float above their arms, supported by unseen magic. When they reached the center of the platform, they knelt as one, placing a single chest onto a pedestal of polished jade.
The lead attendant stepped forward, her hands moving with ritual precision as she unlocked the chest. A soft glow spilled forth, illuminating the stage. From within, she lifted a spear of otherworldly beauty¡ªits haft carved from pure jade, its blade forged of Celesteel that shimmered like moonlight on water. The artifact exuded an energy that seemed to reach out and touch the hearts of those watching.
The crowd held its breath, as if afraid their collective awe might disrupt the moment. When the Jade Kingdom¡¯s delegation stood and bowed deeply, the audience erupted in applause. Many mimicked the bow, a gesture of respect to the kingdom¡¯s grace and generosity.
Koren allowed the applause to subside before raising his hands once more. ¡°The eighth floor offers an invitation to a privilege few ever achieve. The Royal Ball, hosted by the Capital Kingdom, opens its gates to the champions of this trial.¡±
Attendants from the Capital Kingdom stepped forward, their crimson and silver uniforms catching the light. They carried a chest of platinum, its surface engraved with the imperial crest. When opened, it revealed golden invitations¡ªmore than mere parchment, these were living artifacts, inscribed with shifting runes and surrounded by a faint golden glow.
The crowd broke into whispers, and some even wept at the sight. To be invited to the Royal Ball was to be elevated into a world of unimaginable prestige. The Capital Kingdom¡¯s representatives¡ªa stately woman in a ruby-encrusted gown and a silver-haired man in ceremonial armor¡ªstood and inclined their heads, their movements as measured as a courtly waltz. The audience rose to their feet in reverent applause.
But unlike the other representatives, these two did not bow and sit. Instead, they stood tall, waiting for the applause to subside. The woman stepped forward, her voice magically enhanced to a perfect, crystalline clarity, as though a whisper carried effortlessly to every corner of the room.
"People of Terra Mythica," she began, her tone commanding yet graceful, "our allied kingdoms and extraordinary peoples. His Majesty, King Stanley, sends his deepest regrets for being unable to attend this year¡¯s ceremonies in person, as he tends to urgent matters in the northern reaches. However, he has entrusted us with his message of hope."
The silver-haired man produced a gemstone from the folds of his ceremonial cloak. It shimmered with a brilliance that outshone the stage lights, casting an ethereal glow. He held it high, and as he did, the air around it shimmered and expanded into a dazzling cascade of green and blue hues.
The light shimmered and twisted, condensing into the striking visage of a man. Shadows and highlights played across the translucent form, giving it an almost lifelike texture. Deep-set eyes emerged first, pools of light that carried both a weight of command and a glimmer of warmth. Lines etched across his face, and his brow bore the mark of a ruler who had spent countless nights wrestling with the burdens of leadership. Yet, faint creases around his lips softened the sternness¡ªa testament to a lifetime of hard-won smiles and quiet moments of joy.
Jace stared, transfixed. The man seemed hauntingly familiar, though he couldn¡¯t place him. Was it just one of those faces, he wondered.
The king¡¯s projected form loomed over the crowd, his voice deep and resonant, carrying the aura of authority yet tempered by an undeniable warmth. It rolled across the room like distant thunder, commanding attention and silence in equal measure. As one, the crowd rose to their feet, the collective motion a ripple of reverence that spread outward from the stage. Though it was only an illusion, the presence it exuded felt tangible, almost alive, a figure worthy of respect.
Jace found himself standing too, the act instinctive rather than conscious. There was something about the man¡ªit wasn¡¯t just his station or the grandeur of the projection; it was the sense of a life lived in service to something greater. The respect didn¡¯t feel forced; it felt earned.
¡°People of Terra Mythica, brave competitors of the trials,¡± he began. ¡°You stand here as the future defenders of our realms, as the next legends who will carry the torch of hope into the unknown. These trials are not merely a contest of strength or cunning, but a crucible to forge the heroes we so desperately need in these dark times.¡±
His tone grew grim, his expression shadowed. ¡°The threats that loom beyond our borders do not discriminate upon heritage, kingdom, or wealth. They do not rest. We need champions¡ªthose with the courage to rise and the fortitude to endure. To all of you gathered here, I offer this: prove yourselves worthy, not for glory alone, but for the survival of all we hold dear.¡±
The king¡¯s gaze softened, a faint smile curling at his lips. ¡°And for those who succeed¡ I look forward to meeting you at the Royal Ball, where you will be honored as the best of us, as protectors of this world. Good luck, and may the trials guide you to greatness.¡±
Jace couldn¡¯t shake the unsettling sensation that the king¡¯s eyes were boring straight into his soul¡ªa ridiculous notion, he reminded himself, given that this was nothing more than a recording. Right?
The illusion shimmered, the image fading into the same cascade of green and blue light before dissolving completely. A stunned silence filled the room, as though the crowd had collectively forgotten to breathe. Then, as if released from a spell, the applause returned, thunderous and reverent.
Koren¡¯s expression tightened, his jaw set as he forced himself to remain composed. For a fleeting moment, his scowl betrayed him before he quickly masked it, his hands clasping behind his back as he turned toward the next phase of the ceremony. The Capital Kingdom¡¯s representatives, their duty fulfilled, bowed once more and descended gracefully from the stage.
Jace glanced at his companions, noting their awe-struck faces.
Koren¡¯s tone deepened as he continued. ¡°And for those who reach the ninth floor, the highest honor of all: a title of Lord or Lady and a fiefdom under your sponsoring kingdom.¡±
The representatives of the sponsoring kingdoms rose, each bearing a ceremonial symbol of the lands they offered. The Asgardians raised a gilded banner, its edges embroidered with lightning bolts. The Verdant Court¡¯s envoy unfurled a tapestry depicting sprawling emerald forests. From the Jade Kingdom came a miniature pagoda carved from a single block of jade, its details impossibly intricate. The crowd was silent, awed by the magnitude of the reward.
The Asgardians clashed their shields, the Celts roared, and the Jade Kingdom¡¯s attendants performed a synchronized bow. Each reaction reflected the culture and pride of its people, creating a mosaic of reverence and tradition that swept through the grand hall. The audience erupted in cheers, a crescendo of excitement that filled the air with magic and wonder.
Marcus leaned in, his voice a muttered grumble. ¡°They set it at twenty-six so no Traveler gets close.¡±
Jace frowned but said nothing, the words settling into his mind like an itch he couldn¡¯t scratch.
Koren¡¯s expression sharpened, his smile stretching into something almost predatory as he prepared to deliver the final promise. His voice deepened, resonant with reverence.
¡°No one has ever conquered the climb, no one has ever claimed the final prize,¡± he said, his voice low but carrying to every corner of the hushed crowd. ¡°And yet, perhaps there is one among you¡ªstanding here today¡ªwho will rise above all others, the first to ascend all ten floors and claim the greatest treasures of the Tower.¡± The air seemed to shift, growing heavy with anticipation. The crowd leaned forward as if pulled by an unseen force, every breath held in expectation. Koren let the silence stretch, savoring the moment, his pause drawing them deeper into the gravity of what was to come.
¡°For that person awaits glory and treasures untold. For centuries,¡± he continued, his voice a hypnotic cadence, ¡°the kingdoms of Terra Mythica have paid tribute to the Tower Trials. Each year, gemstones and gold, treasures of your lands, are offered in honor of those brave enough to climb, a testament to courage and resolve.¡± He paused again, letting his words settle like a weight upon the gathered masses. Then, with a gleam in his eye, he delivered the revelation.
¡°And every year, the treasures that remain unclaimed do not vanish. They stay, secured within the Tower¡¯s vaults, untouched and waiting. With each passing year, they grow, compounding into a hoard unlike anything the world has ever known.¡±
The murmurs that swept the square were hushed, almost reverent. A ripple of awe passed through the crowd, and Koren stood tall, his voice carrying a note of triumph as he prepared to conclude. ¡°A treasure beyond imagining,¡± he said, his tone as steady as the promise it held, ¡°awaits the one who dares to reach the pinnacle of this challenge. Who among you will rise to claim it?¡±
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Whispers began to buzz like a swarm of bees, excitement and disbelief battling for dominance.
¡°As first light, upon the morrow, let the Climb begin!¡±
As he spoke the final words, the room erupted in an explosion of light and sound. Fireworks burst overhead in a kaleidoscope of color, shimmering in unnatural patterns. Illusions danced through the air¡ªheroes of past years ascending the Tower, triumphant and radiant, their victories writ large for all to see. The crowd roared, their cheers vibrating through the stone walls and into Jace¡¯s chest.
The hall erupted, the sound of voices and applause rising like a storm.
Koren stepped back, letting the moment wash over the crowd.
A familiar ping resonated in Jace¡¯s ears, cutting through the noise:
System Notification Quest Updated¡ªThe Tower:
The glowing text hovered in his vision for a moment before fading. The cheers around him grew louder, and though Jace felt the surge of ambition filling his own chest, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Food and Bart
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Food and Bart
The great hall sprawled before Jace like a living painting, every detail meticulously crafted to overwhelm the senses. Chandeliers shimmered with countless crystal teardrops, their light dancing across the polished marble floors. Above, the ceiling bore frescoes of gods in triumphant poses, their gazes casting judgment on the revelers below. Silken banners hung from towering columns, each bearing the sigil of a university, their vivid colors glowing in the warm, golden light. The air buzzed with laughter and chatter, voices layered atop each other like the instruments of a chaotic orchestra.
Jace lingered by the entrance, scanning the room. The air was thick with the heady aroma of roasted meats, honeyed breads, and exotic spices, each scent vying for dominance. His stomach churned¡ªnot with hunger, but with a gnawing guilt. Earlier, he¡¯d seen the child: skin stretched too tight over brittle bones, eyes too large for such a small face. That gaze lingered now, haunting him even as the wealth of the room flaunted itself unabashedly.
The banquet tables were groaning under the weight of abundance. A golden roast pheasant sat at the center of one, its skin crisp and glistening with juices. Bowls of jewel-like candied fruits sparkled alongside ornate platters of creamy cheeses marbled with herbs. Towers of delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar stood beside silver trays overflowing with spiced nuts, rich chocolate truffles, and buttery tarts filled with gleaming fruit preserves. Wine flowed freely from crystal decanters into goblets already stained red, while towering cakes with spun sugar ornaments seemed to defy gravity.
Jace stepped further inside, the polished soles of his shoes clicking against the marble. The light from the chandeliers refracted off gold-leaf decorations and crystal goblets, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room. It should have been mesmerizing. Instead, it felt suffocating, as though every ounce of opulence came at the expense of the world beyond the gates.
¡°Quite the scene, isn¡¯t it?¡±
The voice drew Jace from his thoughts. He turned to see a stocky youth standing by one of the laden tables, his plate piled high with an assortment of delicacies. Steam curled from the mound of food, reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers. The boy¡¯s face was flushed, his round frame wedged close to the table as though prepared to defend it. He held a half-eaten leg of roasted fowl in one hand, the juices dripping onto his cuff without notice.
Jace''s eyes flicked from the young man to the table, then back again. The unease in his gut deepened, heavy and unshakable.
¡°It¡¯s something,¡± Jace replied, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
¡°Bart,¡± the boy said, extending a hand, his other balancing a platter piled precariously high with food. The mix of roasted meats, glistening fruits, and delicate pastries teetered dangerously as he shifted his weight.
¡°Jace,¡± he replied, gripping the offered hand. The handshake was firm, the boy¡¯s fingers sticky with what smelled like honey glaze.
Bart grinned, his cheeks puffed with half-chewed food. ¡°They¡¯re pulling out all the stops tonight. If this isn¡¯t worth tuition, I don¡¯t know what is.¡±
Jace raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the plate. ¡°Depends. Does tuition usually come with a side of opulence guilt?¡±
Bart snorted, a crumb escaping from the corner of his mouth. ¡°Guilt? Nah. I figure it¡¯s free for the taking, so why not take?¡± He gestured vaguely at the laden buffet tables. ¡°Besides, this much food could feed a small army. Better in me than in the trash, right?¡±
Jace forced a tight smile, his unease simmering just below the surface. He tilted his head, amused despite himself. ¡°You¡¯re here for the food, then?¡±
Bart''s face lit up as he waved a fork laden with roasted meat, his enthusiasm contagious. ¡°You have no idea. My dad sent me here thinking the Tower would give me ¡®direction¡¯ or something equally noble.¡± He rolled his eyes dramatically, then grinned, his gaze sweeping over the banquet tables. ¡°Honestly? I¡¯m here for this.¡± He gestured broadly to the spread before them. ¡°If paradise has a buffet, this is it.¡±
Jace followed his gaze. The tables stretched in endless rows, gleaming under the soft glow of chandeliers. Silver platters groaned under the weight of roasted pheasants, bowls of exotic fruits that gleamed like polished jewels, and pastries draped in delicate caramel nets. A tower of candied figs sparkled with crystalized sugar, while steaming tureens released the heady scent of spiced broths. Every dish shimmered with an almost otherworldly perfection.
Jace reached for a tart, its buttery crust glistening with a ruby-red filling. He popped it into his mouth, expecting an explosion of flavor. Instead, it was... fine. The tartness was balanced, the sweetness subtle, but something was missing¡ªan almost imperceptible absence that dulled the experience.
¡°Good, but not great,¡± Bart said, watching him closely. ¡°Weird, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s like it¡¯s missing the soul of the thing.¡±
Jace raised an eyebrow. ¡°Soul?¡±
Bart shrugged, wiping his hands on a linen napkin embroidered with gold filigree. ¡°Hard to explain. It¡¯s like it doesn¡¯t hit right. Probably because you¡¯re a Traveler.¡± He gestured vaguely with his fork. ¡°Food doesn¡¯t taste the same to us here.¡±
¡°That¡¯s... oddly specific,¡± Jace said, crossing his arms, his curiosity piqued.
Bart smirked, plucking a skewer from a passing tray and inspecting it like a jeweler appraising a diamond. ¡°I¡¯ve been studying this stuff for years. Food, flavors, the way it all works. Call it a hobby.¡± He popped the skewer¡¯s contents into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. ¡°I¡¯ve got a theory. It¡¯s not just about missing home or some psychological mumbo-jumbo. It¡¯s deeper than that.¡±
¡°How so?¡± Jace asked, leaning in slightly despite himself.
Bart gestured with the empty skewer. ¡°Think about it. You¡¯ve got a new body here, right? Respawning, aether coursing through your veins, all that fancy stuff. Whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªbuilt this place got the mechanics down, but taste? That¡¯s more than just chemistry. It¡¯s memory, instinct, history. And when they rebuilt us for this world, they left something out.¡±
Jace frowned, glancing at the tart in his hand. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying... what? We¡¯re not wired right for this place?¡±
¡°Something like that,¡± Bart said, grabbing another pastry and inspecting it like a seasoned critic. ¡°Or maybe this place isn¡¯t wired right for us. Either way, I plan to taste-test until I figure it out. For science, of course.¡±
Jace couldn¡¯t help the slight smile tugging at his lips. There was something oddly endearing about Bart¡¯s passion¡ªsomething genuine beneath the fork-waving bravado.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
¡°Built us?¡± Jace¡¯s interest sharpened, his brow furrowing slightly.
Bart nodded, leaning in as though sharing a secret forbidden in polite company. ¡°Think about it. You¡¯re not in your original body anymore. None of us are. It¡¯s why you can¡¯t bring anything from Earth here¡ªnot even yourself. Everything about you gets rebuilt, reprogrammed, whatever it is this place does.¡±
Jace¡¯s grip tightened on his plate, the weight of Bart¡¯s words settling uncomfortably. ¡°Then what¡¯s the point of inventory stones and the handbook? Just fancy accessories?¡±
Bart shrugged, his fork waving lazily. ¡°Maybe. Or maybe they¡¯re just tools to keep us moving forward. Shortcuts for the stuff we¡¯re not supposed to figure out yet. But the food?¡± He tapped the edge of his plate. ¡°That¡¯s different. That¡¯s where things get tricky. Your palate, your wiring¡ªit¡¯s not the same anymore. The only thing that really resonates now is aether.¡±
¡°Aether?¡± Jace asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.
¡°Yeah,¡± Bart said casually, popping a morsel into his mouth. ¡°Food soaked in aether¡ªthe real stuff¡ªthat¡¯s the only thing that truly tastes right to Travelers. Everything else? It¡¯s like listening to music with half the notes missing. Empty, incomplete.¡±
Jace considered this, then reached into his pocket, retrieving a small vial of shimmering liquid. He uncorked it, the faint, otherworldly glow reflecting off his fingers. Holding Bart¡¯s gaze, he let a single drop fall onto the tart in his hand.
Bart¡¯s eyes widened, the light of the vial dancing in his pupils as Jace took a bite. The effect was immediate. The muted, lackluster flavors exploded, a cascade of sweetness, sharpness, and an underlying thread of something bittersweet and almost mournful. It was as if the tart had woken up.
¡°What the hell is that?¡± Bart asked, leaning closer, his fork forgotten.
Jace handed him the vial. ¡°Just a little experiment. Try it.¡±
Bart hesitated, the skepticism clear on his face, but curiosity won out. He tipped the vial carefully, letting a single drop coat a piece of pastry on his plate. The bite hovered in front of his mouth before he finally popped it in. His expression shifted¡ªconfusion, discomfort, then something deeper. He sat back, blinking.
¡°Wow,¡± Bart murmured, his voice quieter than before. ¡°That¡¯s... heavy on the aether, but there¡¯s something else. It feels... melancholy. Like tasting a memory you didn¡¯t know you had.¡±
Jace tilted his head, intrigued. ¡°Melancholy?¡±
¡°Yeah,¡± Bart said, his gaze going distant, like he was trying to put words to a feeling he couldn¡¯t quite pin down. ¡°It¡¯s good, don¡¯t get me wrong. But it¡¯s not just about taste. It¡¯s like... melancholy?¡±
Jace smirked, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a crooked grin. ¡°I was in a rough mood when I made that batch.¡±
Bart barked a laugh, shaking his head as he set his plate down. ¡°Somatic Alchemy... I haven¡¯t seen this in ages. Turning emotions into food¡ªit¡¯s rare. Mostly comes up in little villages, out in the cracks between the big zones. You¡¯ve got to teach me how you learned it!¡± His eyes lit up, practically sparkling with curiosity. ¡°No, seriously, you have to. I¡¯ve got theories, and if I¡¯m right, this could be the key to¡ª¡±
Whatever Bart was about to say was cut off as Koren, the Regent, approached. His steps were deliberate, each one a study in precision, the kind of grace that didn¡¯t come naturally but was honed through years of practice. He moved like a predator, his polished smile glittering with the same sharpness as the jewels adorning his suit.
His gaze flicked to Bart briefly, assessing and dismissing him in the same instant, before locking onto Jace. The weight of it was palpable, like the sudden awareness of being caught in a spotlight.
¡°Traveler,¡± he said, his voice smooth but with an edge beneath the silk. ¡°I trust you¡¯re finding the evening... enjoyable?¡±
Jace¡¯s expression hardened. He nodded, but said nothing.
Koren¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter, but his eyes gleamed with a cold warning. ¡°I trust everything is to your liking?¡±
¡°The food¡¯s fine,¡± Jace replied, his tone sharp. ¡°Though I couldn¡¯t help but notice the children outside. The ones by the gates.¡±
Koren¡¯s smile wavered, just for an instant, before snapping back into place. ¡°Ah, yes. The unfortunate little souls. Their parents are... less deserving. Criminals, in most cases. We do what we can for the children, of course. A kindness, really. It¡¯s tragic, isn¡¯t it, what some selfish people will resort to when they have young ones depending on them.¡±
¡°An entire town of criminals?¡± Jace asked, his skepticism unmistakable. ¡°What exactly were their crimes?¡±
¡°The worst sort,¡± Koren said, his tone grave, as if delivering a eulogy. ¡°Sedition. Rotwords, I¡¯m afraird.¡±
Jace¡¯s nerves prickled at the word. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m familiar with the term. Rotword?¡±
Koren explained as if he was talking to child or a pitied thing.
¡°I apologize,¡± Koren said, his tone sliding into the false warmth of a condescending teacher. ¡°I forget how ignorant Travelers can be of our ways. Rotwords¡ªthose who speak falsely, daring to malign the Royal Truthsayers¡ªare the worst sort of traitors. Dangerous lies, baseless accusations... they poison the very foundation of our Stronghold.¡±
His smile was polite, but his eyes gleamed with something darker. ¡°They¡¯ve claimed, if you can imagine, that our defenses against the Dark One are... inadequate. That he could breach the border wall, stroll right into the Stronghold, and slaughter everyone here. As if our efforts¡ªour sacrifices¡ªcould ever be so poorly managed.¡± He gave a soft, airy laugh, the kind meant to dismiss even the thought of such heresy. ¡°They even suggest that funds meant for our protection have been siphoned off, diverted elsewhere. Absurd, isn¡¯t it?¡±
Koren gestured broadly to the room, his laughter trailing into a lighter chuckle, though his gaze was sharp enough to cut stone. ¡°Terrible, treasonous things. Can you imagine the chaos if people believed such lies? No, no. The Dark One remains securely beyond the border wall, his forces stagnant for centuries. Centuries!¡±
His voice carried a ring of theatrical certainty as he swept his hand across the room, showcasing the glittering crowd. ¡°I present to you proof! If the Dark One were among us, if he had breached the wall, these fine people¡ªevery one of them¡ªwould be dead. Does this not reassure you? Does this not silence any doubt?¡±
The weight of his words hung in the air like a storm cloud, but Jace felt the cracks beneath the polished surface. The way Koren¡¯s laugh lingered a second too long, the flicker in his eyes when he spoke of the Dark One, the overperformance of his assurance¡ªit all pointed to something more. Something rotten.
¡°So you imprison anyone who questions the Truth?¡± Jace asked, his voice hard.
¡°Oh, no.¡± Koren chuckled softly, as if amused by the notion. ¡°Nothing so crude as that. We offer them the chance to redeem themselves¡ through labor. They work in the mines, or here, assisting in ways that benefit the greater good. They may even see their families at night. Many of the Nobles thought I was too lenient but alas, I have a poor and weak heart and I¡¯m afraid it gets the better of me at times.¡±
Jace¡¯s eyes flicked to the servers moving between the tables. The golden cloths covering their mouths and faces, the golden ropes binding their arms¡ªit wasn¡¯t a uniform. It was their caste. Their chains.
The truth of it settled over Jace like a heavy fog. He became excruciatingly aware of the people around him¡ªthe servers, the nobles, even Bart shifting uneasily at his side. The golden ropes, the gilded masks¡ªit wasn¡¯t a culture, it was control. And everyone here seemed to accept it. Not just accept it¡ªthey moved with the indifference of people who¡¯d seen it a thousand times and stopped seeing it at all.
¡°As slaves,¡± Jace said, his voice unwavering, the words landing like a challenge.
Koren¡¯s smile hardened, though the edges of it remained perfectly polished. ¡°If that¡¯s the word you choose to use, fine. But consider this, Traveler: without order, there is chaos. Lies of such venomous intent must be punished. Silencing those voices ensures peace, stability. Surely you understand that.¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, but his gaze didn¡¯t waver. ¡°What I understand is exploitation when I see it.¡±
For the first time, Koren¡¯s composure cracked, if only slightly. His smile stretched thinner, and his voice dropped to a near-whisper, sharp enough to cut. ¡°Careful, Traveler. You¡¯re not in your world anymore.¡±
He leaned closer, his hand gripping Jace¡¯s shoulder in a gesture that might have seemed amicable from a distance but carried a weight of veiled menace. ¡°You¡¯re new here. And as this world is your new home, it seems, perhaps it would be wise to reserve judgment until you¡¯ve seen the full picture.¡±
Jace met Koren¡¯s gaze head-on. His voice was steady, a quiet defiance in it. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m starting to.¡±
For a moment, the air between them was electric, the room seeming to hold its collective breath. Then Koren¡¯s smile reasserted itself, cold and gleaming. He released Jace¡¯s shoulder, turned on his heel, and began to glide through the crowd, his entourage trailing in his wake like shadows.
Bart exhaled loudly once Koren was out of earshot, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯ve got guts, I¡¯ll give you that. Or a hell of a lot of stupid.¡±
Jace allowed a small, humorless smile to flicker across his face. ¡°Probably both.¡± His gaze lingered on Koren¡¯s retreating figure, the polished veneer hiding something far darker beneath.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Unwanted Answers
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Unwanted Answers
The chill of the evening wrapped around Jace as he stepped out into the night. The air was damp, carrying the faint metallic tang of ozone that seemed to permeate every corner of the world. He let his mind wander, his feet carrying him toward the darker parts of the Stronghold, away from the buzz of Merchant¡¯s Circle. Tonight, though, he had a purpose¡ªa need to escape, to breathe.
Activating Shift, Jace launched himself toward the rooftops, his movements fluid and silent. The power surged through him, light and exhilarating, propelling him upward. His boots landed softly on the aged stone tiles, his silhouette blending seamlessly with the shadows. He smiled in acknowledgeable of his rapid improvements in the skill. Activating Etheric Cloak, he felt a faint shimmer ripple across his body, his form merging with the surroundings, leaving only a faint outline that bent and wavered in the dim moonlight.
He moved like a wraith over the rooftops, his steps light as he scanned the quiet streets below.
That¡¯s when he saw her.
The lithe, hooded figure moving with practiced ease across the street, slipping through alleys and darting between buildings. Jace froze for a moment, recognition sparking in his mind. It was her¡ªthe stranger who had helped him before. The one who had moved like the wind, precise and unyielding. He¡¯d never gotten a chance to thank her, and now curiosity tugged at him.
Staying crouched, Jace followed her, keeping his distance as they leapt from rooftop to rooftop. She moved effortlessly, her steps almost weightless, but Jace matched her pace, his Etheric Cloak hiding him from view. His heart pounded in his chest, the thrill of the chase quickening his pulse.
Then she stopped. Her hooded head turned slightly, her body still as a statue. Jace froze, his breath caught in his throat.
She¡¯d spotted him.
Without warning, she bolted, darting across the rooftops with a sudden burst of speed. Jace cursed under his breath and gave chase, pushing his abilities to keep up. His movements were precise but deliberate, each step calculated to match hers. He felt his Moonstone Shard thrumming in his chest, boosting his agility.
The chase took them over the sprawling city, weaving between chimneys and leaping over gaps between buildings. Jace pushed himself harder, the flicker of her hood always just ahead, like a phantom slipping through his fingers. He barely noticed the night air growing cooler as they ascended higher, the buildings thinning until they reached the outer edges of the city.
The chase ended at the base of The Wall, a colossal monolith of stone and steel rising into the dark heavens. It wasn¡¯t just a barrier¡ªit was a promise, carved and cast to hold back the creeping void beyond. Crags of black rock jutted from its surface, and the faint glow of warding sigils hummed in the night, pulsing like the heartbeat of the stronghold itself. The wall loomed so high it seemed to scrape the stars, which blinked down like distant, dispassionate spectators.
Jace barely had time to catch his breath before the figure vanished into the stairwell carved into the ancient structure. He followed without hesitation, his boots striking the worn stone steps in a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. Each step pulled him further from the world below, the biting wind growing sharper, colder. The air thinned, cutting into his lungs with each inhale.
His darkvision sharpened the scene, pulling the shadows into focus and heightening every detail that might have otherwise been swallowed by the night.
The stairs twisted upward in a spiral that seemed endless, the walls narrowing and pressing closer with every turn. Sweat mixed with frost on Jace''s brow as he ascended higher and higher, his legs burning, each breath a fight against the altitude.
Occasionally, narrow slits in the wall revealed glimpses of the world outside. He caught fleeting sights of the darkness beyond¡ªan unbroken expanse of churning shadow that seemed alive, clawing at the edges of reality. It roared soundlessly against the base of the wall, an ever-present threat that made the sheer scale of the stronghold''s defenses both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
His quarry remained just out of reach, a shadow flitting ever upward. No matter how hard Jace pushed himself, the top remained elusive, the stairs stretching on as if they had no end. His mind wavered between determination and doubt, the climb becoming not just a physical test but a battle against the exhaustion gnawing at his resolve.
And then, after what felt like an eternity, the stairwell opened into a vast platform at the summit of the wall. The biting cold eased as he stepped into the open air, though the altitude pressed heavy on his chest. He stumbled forward, his breath misting as he took in the desolate expanse before him.
The top of The Wall was a bleak, crumbling ruin. The battlements stood uneven and cracked, their jagged edges lined with dead weeds that still clung stubbornly to the worn stone. Massive siege engines loomed in skeletal disrepair, their hulking frames warped and rusted, their purpose unclear but undeniably long abandoned. Cogs and wheels sat frozen, their mechanisms seized and useless. Jagged ropes hung limp from their reels, the fibers brittle and frayed, snapping like twigs under the slightest breeze.
Ward-stones lined the perimeter, their surfaces dulled and chipped. Some flickered faintly, their dim light a feeble attempt at illumination, while others were dark altogether, broken shards scattered across the stone. The faint hum in the air sputtered, its rhythm inconsistent, leaving an uneasy quiet that hung over the platform like a pall.
Jace stepped cautiously onto the uneven surface, the stone beneath his boots cold and rough. His eyes scanned the scene, taking in the decay with a growing sense of unease. This place felt abandoned, its power forgotten, its purpose a question mark. How could something so vast, so clearly vital, have been left to rot?
Why had this place been left like this?
He glanced over the edge and saw the world far below, distant lights twinkling in the darkness like embers clinging to life. He straightened, his gaze drawn outward toward the void. It churned and twisted beyond the wall, pressing hungrily against the faint, failing glow of the ward-stones.
He turned, his breath curling in the frigid air, and saw a figure standing at the edge of the battlements, a faint silhouette etched against the infinite void. The wind caught her cloak, whipping it into jagged arcs that fluttered like a tattered banner, a stark contrast to the stillness of her stance. She stood as though she were an envoy of the darkness itself, a harbinger poised at the threshold. Behind her, the void churned and twisted, its relentless chaos pressing hungrily against the fragile glow of the wall¡¯s failing wards.
Jace took a step forward, his voice cutting through the chill. ¡°Who are you?¡±
¡°Beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡± she said, her voice calm but carrying just enough edge to reveal she wasn¡¯t entirely at ease.
The figure turned, and Jace¡¯s breath caught. The hood fell back, revealing silver hair that shimmered in the moonlight and deep blue eyes that regarded him with quiet amusement. Lyra. He blinked, momentarily stunned, before regaining his composure.
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smile. Jace stepped closer, but kept a respectful distance.
¡°What do you think?¡± she asked, her tone light, yet something unspoken lingered beneath her words, elusive and difficult to define. She gestured toward the expanse beyond the Wall, where the darkness churned endlessly, shifting like it had a will of its own. ¡°Whenever we visit the Stronghold, I try to come here. To think. To be alone.¡±
Jace hesitated, his response caught for a moment. He could sense the quiet she sought, the kind that settled over wounds too deep to close easily. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said softly, his voice barely louder than the wind. He understood that kind of silence. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you to it. I just¡ wanted to thank you. For what you did back there¡ªwith Caspen.¡±
Lyra leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the endless void beyond the Wall. The silence was profound, broken only by the faint rustle of the night wind, and the void seemed to pulse with its own quiet menace.
¡°Well, you¡¯re here. Might as well have a seat and enjoy the view.¡±
The faint shimmer of moonlight caught the silver in her hair, giving her an ethereal glow. For a moment, she seemed lost in thought, the weight of something unspoken resting on her shoulders. She perched on the edge of the wall, her legs swinging freely over the abyss below, her arms braced against the chilled railing.
¡°I try to remind myself that this is what we¡¯re fighting. Not each other,¡± she said finally, her voice soft but edged with a weariness that spoke of deep, hidden cracks. It sounded more like a mantra¡ªone she¡¯d clung to for far longer than she cared to admit.
Jace studied her for a moment, his gaze drifting to the endless void beyond the Wall. The words slipped from him before he could stop them, quiet and tentative. ¡°What are you trying to get away from?¡±
She turned slightly, her expression flickering with something guarded, though she didn¡¯t seem surprised by the question. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s just one thing,¡± she said after a moment, her tone measured but unsteady, like she was feeling her way through her own thoughts. ¡°The Egyptians¡ the Pharaoh has been good to me. They¡¯ve become more my family than anyone else has. But even with them, I sneak away sometimes. To think. To breathe. To remind myself who I am when no one¡¯s looking.¡±
Jace nodded, unsure what to say. His Truthsense hummed faintly at the edges of his awareness, but it wasn¡¯t what told him she was being honest¡ªit was the familiarity of her words, the echoes of his own past reflected in them.
Jace eased down beside her, his Etheric cloak billowing in the frozen winds, its faint glow casting a soft, wavering light against the darkness. The cold bit at him, but the cloak held it at bay, just enough to let him focus. He nodded silently, words eluding him as he watched her. There was a quiet strength in her profile, a resolve etched into her features, but beneath it lingered something raw¡ªan unspoken pain that hung heavy in the space between them.
After a long moment, Jace shifted, boots scraping against the stone edge of the Wall as he stared out at the horizon. The forcefield shimmered faintly, a translucent barrier that held back the roiling black void of the Dark One''s territories. Beyond it, nothingness stretched endlessly, a blank canvas of despair that swallowed the night sky. Closer to the Wall, the heavens clung to a fading sense of normalcy¡ªa deep indigo bruised with purple, the stars trembling like they knew what lay just a heartbeat away.
¡°Strange view, isn¡¯t it?¡± Lyra¡¯s voice was soft, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. She sat beside him, her posture relaxed, though her fingers gripped the edge of the stone tightly enough to whiten her knuckles.
¡°Strange¡¯s one word for it.¡± Jace glanced at her, her silhouette stark against the faint glow of the barrier. ¡°You¡¯ve stepped in before. Twice, actually. Back in the marketplace and the Commoners¡¯ Circle. Why?¡±
She sighed, her breath fogging briefly in the cold air before the world consumed it. ¡°Because it was wrong.¡± Her tone was clipped, but her gaze remained fixed on the horizon, the muscles in her jaw tightening. ¡°And because¡ it¡¯s complicated.¡±
¡°Complicated how?¡± he pressed, leaning slightly toward her.
For a moment, she didn¡¯t answer. Her voice turned sharp, her shoulders snapping back like a soldier bracing for impact. Then, without looking at him, she said, ¡°I am the daughter of Tetzomoc, the Obsidian Flame. Leader of the Aztec Tribes.¡±
The words hung in the air, as heavy as the darkness pressing against the forcefield. Jace didn¡¯t reply, sensing there was more.
Her posture softened, the sharp edges of her presence melting into something smaller, almost fragile. ¡°That used to mean something, you know. Before I was born, my father warred with the Pharaohs. It didn¡¯t end well.¡±
She picked up a small pebble from the ground and hurled it at the edge of the darkness. The moment it struck, ripples of iridescent purples and shimmering twilight cascaded outward, like light dancing on the surface of a disturbed pond.
Jace blinked, trying to piece it together. Everything he¡¯d learned at Olympus University painted the kingdoms as united¡ªjoined in common cause against the encroaching darkness. ¡°I thought¡ weren¡¯t they all allied? Against the darkness, I mean. Why would he go to war? Is that¡ normal?¡±
Her laugh was bitter, dry as scorched earth. ¡°Common enough. Though they don¡¯t ever call it ¡®war.¡¯ Not technically. But it is. Land grabs, power plays, station... petty skirmishes dressed up as noble causes. Long ago, when the Dark One struck relentlessly, there was peace between us. Uneasy, but real. Every kingdom sacrificed their dead to hold the line. But centuries pass. The attacks dwindled. The treaties stayed, but the peace?¡± She shrugged, the motion tight and cold. ¡°A fragile balance. Some kingdoms honor it. Others¡ well, less so.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
¡°And your father?¡± Jace pressed. ¡°Why did he fight?¡±
She turned her head, her gaze distant, as if searching the shadows for an answer that would never come. ¡°Take your pick¡ªland, pride, revenge. Depends on who¡¯s telling the story. But one thing¡¯s certain: he lost. That¡¯s all that matters, in the end. And my people have been paying for it ever since.¡± Her laugh was sharp, hollow, a sound that cut rather than comforted. ¡°I was part of the price.¡±
Jace froze, his thoughts stumbling over her words. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
Her chin dipped, and for a fleeting moment, the unyielding armor she wore cracked, just enough for him to see a flash of what was underneath. Then, her wrists lifted, revealing the golden cuffs encircling them like chains disguised as jewelry. The faint glow of runes etched into the metal pulsed with a quiet, mocking rhythm.
¡°I know what it¡¯s like to be owned, in my own way,¡± she said, her voice raw.
Jace¡¯s stomach turned. ¡°You¡¯re a slave?¡±
Her laughter came again, bitter and jagged. ¡°I like you, so I won¡¯t have you beaten for asking me that.¡± She took a deep breath and when she continued, her voice was colder. ¡°No, I am not a slave. Nobles don¡¯t call it that. They dress it up, polish it, make it sound less... offensive. I¡¯m a ¡®Treasure.¡¯¡± She spat the word like it burned. ¡°A living guarantee that my peoples won¡¯t rise again.¡±
She nodded, her lips pressing into a tight line. ¡°One child for each offended kingdom, given away as a token of surrender. A symbol of good faith, they called it. My sisters and I were scattered like ashes on the wind. I ended up with the Pharaohs, living under their rule. Their ways. Their systems.¡± Her voice dropped, laced with venom.
Jace struggled for words, but she pressed on, her voice gaining a sharp edge. ¡°It¡¯s not like the Wordrots here, of course, or the way slaves are treated from lower stations. I can¡¯t complain, not really. I might even be lucky, depending on how you look at it.¡± She exhaled, her gaze distant. ¡°But none of that changes the truth. I¡¯m property. And alliances? They¡¯re nothing but illusions. People cling to peace as long as it serves them. The moment it doesn¡¯t¡¡± She snapped her fingers, her expression hardening like iron. ¡°Gone. Just like that.¡±
¡°Then why stay?¡± Jace asked, keeping his tone soft.
Her head whipped toward him, her eyes blazing. ¡°And do what, exactly? Run? Disappear into the gutters? Abandon what¡¯s left of my people¡¯s honor?¡± She laughed again, sharp and bitter. ¡°No. Staying means I can at least pretend to matter. I can protect a little. I can¡ push back.¡±
¡°Like with Caspen,¡± Jace said, testing the waters.
Lyra¡¯s lips twitched into a wry smile. ¡°Caspen¡¯s a distraction. Fun, for now. Even being a Treasured, I outrank him considerably. His family¡¯s on the rise, and they¡¯ll outstrip mine soon enough. Maybe I¡¯ll regret how I¡¯ve handled him. Maybe not. Either way, he doesn¡¯t matter. ¡±
Jace tilted his head, studying her. ¡°I keep hearing that word¡ªWordrot. What does it mean?¡±
Her smile vanished, replaced by a grim expression. ¡°It¡¯s what they call the marked. Liars, dangerous heretics, deniers, and anyone the Nobles want erased. They¡¯re stripped of credibility, cut off from society. Unowned slaves¡ªunprotected. And worse, it technically makes them fair game for every cruelty imaginable. At least a proper slave as the protection of the house they serve.¡±
Jace¡¯s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white against his skin. He turned away from Lyra, his gaze locking onto the hum of the forcefield. ¡°Fair game,¡± he repeated, his voice low, each word carrying a tremor of restrained anger. ¡°Is that what you call it? Stripping people of their lives, their dignity, and tossing them to wolves because they don¡¯t fit the mold?¡±
Lyra tilted her head, watching him carefully. ¡°It¡¯s not ideal,¡± she said softly, almost apologetic. ¡°But it¡¯s how this world works.¡±
¡°No,¡± Jace snapped, spinning to face her, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°It¡¯s not just ¡®how it works.¡¯ This system isn¡¯t some inevitable force of nature¡ªit¡¯s a deliberate design. A machine built to keep people crushed under its weight, letting the powerful stomp on anyone with the audacity to step out of line. Calling it ¡®the way things are¡¯ doesn¡¯t excuse it.¡±
Lyra bristled, her voice sharp with anger. ¡°Hey, I defended them¡ªand saved you. Twice! I don¡¯t like it any more than you do. I¡¯m a victim of it, just like them.¡±
¡°Victim?¡± Jace let out a dry laugh, something raw and brittle cracking within him. ¡°Victim? We¡¯re all victims until we aren¡¯t! You said it yourself¡ªyour position, your status, they give you power. You put Caspen in his place without breaking a sweat. You¡¯re strong enough to take down a few men¡ªhell, maybe even stronger than me.¡±
She rolled her eyes then, a sharp, dismissive gesture, as if his words weren¡¯t just true but laughably obvious.
¡°Then do something about it,¡± Jace pressed, his voice rising, almost pleading. ¡°For the gods¡¯ sake, Lyra. ¡®It¡¯s how it works¡¯? What kind of excuse is that? You have the power to change it. Use it!¡±
His voice grew steadier, each word sharpened by conviction. ¡°Terra Mythica was supposed to be different. A place where we could escape the chains of our world¡ªthe lies, the deceit, the endless cycle of subjugation. A place of freedom, where people could rise on their own merits, where dreams were within reach for anyone willing to fight for them. Not this.¡±
He gestured sharply, his expression hardening. ¡°Not a hierarchy of nobles and crowns, of silencing anyone who dares to speak out. Not a mockery of liberty where kings rule and slaves are ground into the dirt. To hell with their so-called order, their precious sensibilities. This place was meant to be a sanctuary¡ªa chance to break free from oppression, not to recreate it.¡±
His grey eyes burned with intensity, his voice swelling with raw determination. ¡°We fled Earth for freedom. Not to build a new prison.¡±
Her expression darkened, but she held her ground. ¡°And what would you do, Jace? Tear it all down? Burn this world to the ground?¡±
¡°If that¡¯s what it takes,¡± Jace said. ¡°I¡¯m sick of standing by and watching people suffer because someone decided they weren¡¯t worthy. People like Caspen¡ªlike you¡ªuse words like ¡®fun¡¯ and ¡®distraction¡¯ to justify cruelty. But it¡¯s not a game. It¡¯s not entertainment. It¡¯s people¡¯s lives.¡±
Silence fell between them, this time heavier. The faint hum of the forcefield seemed louder now, filling the void left by their argument.
Lyra¡¯s gaze softened, though her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°You talk like you¡¯ve never been part of a system like this,¡± she said quietly. ¡°But I see it in your eyes¡ªyou understand it more than you¡¯re willing to admit.¡±
¡°Understanding it doesn¡¯t mean accepting it,¡± Jace said, his voice calmer now but no less firm. ¡°Someone has to stand against this, even if it feels impossible.¡±
For a moment, Lyra said nothing, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded. ¡°You¡¯re not like the others,¡± she murmured. ¡°Travelers, I mean. You care. I don¡¯t know if that makes you brave or foolish.¡±
Jace leaned back against the railing, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. ¡°Probably both,¡± he said with a dry laugh, though the fire in his eyes hadn¡¯t dimmed. ¡°But someone has to be.¡±
Lyra¡¯s smile held a vulnerability that Jace hadn¡¯t seen before, as if she were finally lowering a shield too heavy to bear any longer. She moved closer, the faint moonlight catching her features and painting her face in shades of silver and shadow, like a masterpiece rendered in light and dark. Her eyes, steady and searching, held his with an intensity that seemed to speak without words.
The abrupt shift from battle-ready tension to this left Jace unmoored, caught off guard in a way he hadn¡¯t expected.
¡°Jace,¡± she said, her voice soft but unwavering. She reached out, her hand grazing his in a touch so light it could have been imagined. The space between them seemed to shrink, the rest of the world fading into the background.
Jace felt his breath hitch, his mind racing even as he remained resolute. He thought of Alice and his heart ached. He couldn¡¯t let this happen. Not like this. He moved back, his motion deliberate, his gaze dropping to the ground for a fleeting moment before returning to hers.
¡°Lyra, I can¡¯t,¡± he said, his voice low but steady.
For a moment, her expression didn¡¯t change. Then a flicker of realization passed through her features, followed by a quiet acceptance. She drew in a slow breath, her shoulders lifting slightly before relaxing.
¡°Your heart is already spoken for?¡± she asked, her voice carrying a softness that didn¡¯t demand an answer, even though he nodded.
¡°She¡ she¡¯s everything,¡± Jace admitted, the words both an explanation and a confession.
Lyra¡¯s gaze drifted toward the horizon, her smile faint but still present. ¡°It¡¯s strange,¡± she murmured, her tone thoughtful. ¡°I¡¯ve lived a long life, longer than most. And yet, I¡¯ve never been good at waiting. For us, a thousand years can pass like the turning of a page, but it still feels too short when you¡¯re searching for something real. Someone real.¡±
For the first time, Jace truly saw her. At a glance, she appeared no older than her mid-twenties, her youthful features framed by an ageless grace. But there was something in her bearing, a quiet strength behind her gaze, that spoke of centuries gone by. His eyes caught on the subtle tilt to her ears¡ªnot quite elven, but close enough to hint at something otherworldly. The question rose to his lips, but he swallowed it, deciding better of it.
Lyra turned to face him, her luminous eyes shimmering with a complex mix of admiration and quiet despair. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re different, Jace. I¡¯ve met other Travelers¡ªplenty of them. They see this world as a game, like we¡¯re just background noise in their story.¡± Her voice caught, a delicate crack threading through her words. ¡°But you¡ You stood up for us. For our people. Not because it served you, but because it mattered. That¡¯s rare.¡± She hesitated, the vulnerability in her expression deepening, raw and unguarded. ¡°It¡¯s why I¡¡±
Her words faltered, leaving an unspoken truth hanging between them. Jace felt the weight of her sincerity press against him, stirring something that threatened to unravel his resolve. But then the thought of Alice surfaced¡ªa tether holding him steady. He exhaled slowly, his voice soft yet firm. ¡°Lyra, I meant every word. You have the strength to change things. Even if you don¡¯t believe it yet, I do. And if you choose to fight, I¡¯ll stand beside you. As an ally. Maybe even as a friend.¡±
Lyra¡¯s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. ¡°A friend,¡± she murmured, almost tasting the unfamiliar word. She eased back with a quiet grace, her tone tinged with wistful amusement. ¡°Not a word I¡¯m used to. But¡¡± She glanced up at him, her smile brightening just enough to reach her eyes. ¡°I think I like it.¡±
Jace extended his hand, tentative but steady. ¡°Friends?¡± he offered, his voice caught between hope and caution.
Lyra studied him for a moment, her expression thoughtful, then nodded. ¡°Friends,¡± she said, her voice carrying a quiet resolve.
For a time, they stood in companionable silence, the tension ebbing away like a receding tide. Lyra¡¯s gaze shifted back to the Wall, her eyes tracing the endless expanse of darkness that stretched below. The faint stirrings of creatures moved within the void, but her focus was elsewhere.
They sat side by side, staring into the darkness that stretched endlessly beyond the Wall. The void seemed alive, barely perceptible shapes moving faintly at its edges, flickering like the half-formed memories of nightmares.
¡°Monsters out there,¡± Jace said, his voice slicing through the heavy stillness.
¡°And worse things in the Tower,¡± she answered. It wasn¡¯t loud, but it carried a quiet authority, a weight that made Jace turn his head. Her silhouette was sharp against the void, her golden wrist cuffs glinting faintly in the pale moonlight.
Jace¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the darkness below, though his eyes narrowed at her words. ¡°What do you mean?¡± he asked, his voice low, steady.
Lyra didn¡¯t answer immediately. Her expression turned inward, as though she were searching for the right way to phrase something too heavy for simple words. When she spoke again, her voice softened, but the unyielding steel beneath it remained. ¡°Just¡ be careful in there, Jace. Find your friends, if you can.¡±
¡°You¡¯re not going?¡± He looked at her then, and the faint curve of her lips told him he was right before she spoke.
¡°No,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°My time with the Tower ended many moons ago. Now, I¡¯m here to support our kingdoms¡¯ contestants.¡± She turned toward him fully, her piercing gaze meeting his. ¡°They don¡¯t tell you about the real danger.¡±
¡°What is it?¡± Jace asked, though he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted the answer.
¡°The other participants.¡± Her voice was quiet, but her eyes flickered with the shadow of old memories. ¡°Find a faction. Build a team. Or learn to survive alone. Because most of the realms, they send their worst¡ªthe ones no one wants. The ones willing to do anything. And they¡ they turn the trials into something they were never meant to be.¡±
¡°But why? I thought¡¡± Jace trailed off, his eyes searching her face for answers. Then, like a puzzle piece snapping into place, the realization struck him, sharp and sudden. He felt a flush of embarrassment for not seeing it sooner. ¡°Kingdoms can¡¯t openly war,¡± he said, the words laced with dawning clarity.
She nodded slowly, lifting one wrist to display the jeweled golden bands that caught the faint light. ¡°No. Not without consequences.¡± Her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°But there are no recordings in the Tower. And¡ well, accidents happen.¡±
Her words hung in the air, and Jace felt the chill that crept into his bones wasn¡¯t entirely from the night. Lyra¡¯s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she looked as though she might stop there. Then, with a breath, she continued.
¡°Honestly, if it weren¡¯t for that, more people might make it higher. But the truth is¡ fewer of us survive. And even those who do¡¡± Lyra¡¯s voice faltered, the weight of her words catching in her throat. She hesitated, her gaze distant as though wrestling with memories too painful to relive. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°Find your allies. Stay away from the factions. And if you can¡¯t¡ port out. It¡¯s not worth it.¡±
Her eyes found his then, sharp and unyielding, carrying an urgency that spoke louder than her words. There was something else, something she couldn¡¯t say outright. Jace¡¯s gaze flickered to the golden bands on her wrists, the way her fingers twitched against them. Were they stopping her? Binding her somehow?
¡°Death isn¡¯t as bad for us as it is for your kind,¡± he murmured, his tone grim but matter-of-fact.
¡°True enough,¡± she admitted. Lyra flinched, her lips pressing into a tight line. ¡°But this year is different, isn¡¯t it? There¡¯s always been an unspoken rule¡ªgo after the Travelers first. Pick them off before they get too far. But this year¡¡± She paused, her breath hitching as her hands instinctively clutched her wrists. Pain flickered across her face, raw and unguarded. ¡°There have been shifts. The kingdoms are moving differently. There¡¯s more at play than you realize. More than any of the Traveler Universities and sympathizers know.¡±
She drew a shaky breath, forcing herself to meet his eyes. ¡°Just promise me you¡¯ll be careful, Jace. The Tower will test you in ways you can¡¯t imagine. But the real danger isn¡¯t the trials.¡± Her voice dropped, heavy with warning. ¡°It¡¯s the people. They¡¯ll do whatever it takes to survive. To serve their realm. Anything.¡±
Jace felt the weight of her words settle like a stone in his chest. His throat tightened, but he nodded slowly, his voice quiet but resolute. ¡°I will.¡±
Lyra straightened and stood, the rigid tension in her frame easing slightly. Her expression softened, but her resolve didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Good luck, Jace,¡± she said, her voice steady, though a faint note of something warmer lingered in the edges of her tone. And then she turned, her figure outlined in silver and shadow as she walked away, leaving Jace alone with the horizon and the weight of her words.
That night, as Jace drifted into sleep, his dreams carried him to distant places bathed in the glow of warm hearths and the hum of quiet taverns. He dreamed of familiar sounds, the murmur of comforting words, and the gentle clink of mugs raised in camaraderie. And threaded through it all was a song¡ªhaunting and tender, its melody wrapping around him like a forgotten lullaby, stirring something deep within his soul.
¡°In golden fields where earth and sky,
She wandered lost, her heart''s lone cry.
Beneath the stars in night¡¯s embrace,
She moved with grace, a gentle pace.
His words were veiled in shadows deep,
Guarded secrets, night would keep.
A maiden''s plea, a gentle sigh,
Beneath the tree where sorrows lie.
In fields of gold, where dreams do bloom,
She shed her tears, the silver moon.
Unknowing of his love¡¯s true flame,
In absence burned, a silent name.
In fields where light and dreams entwine,
Echoes of love forever shine.
Alone she roamed, her heart a tome,
Forever seeking love, a home.¡±
Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Tower
Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Tower
Morning light filtered softly through the hotel room¡¯s wide windows, diffused by the crystalline frost clinging to the glass. The gentle ambiance was broken by a sudden chime¡ªa cascade of ethereal notes that filled the air like a whispered melody. The sound didn¡¯t demand attention so much as guide it, each note rising and falling in a pattern that seemed almost alive. It emanated from a floating orb near the ceiling, the magical alarm glowing faintly as it pulsed in time with the sound.
Jace stirred, his eyes flickering open. For a moment, disorientation tugged at the edges of his mind, the dreamlike state of waking blurred with the lingering pull of sleep. But the enchantment on the bed had done its work; he felt sharper, clearer, as though he¡¯d slept a full night instead of just a few hours. The mattress hummed faintly beneath him, its spell fading the moment he moved.
He stretched, his muscles loose and relaxed, and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. I should be more tired, he thought, but the residual energy from the bed¡¯s enchantments made his exhaustion feel like a distant memory. The subtle magic of the room¡ªcrafted for travelers like him¡ªwas almost unnervingly efficient.
The air was cool, tinged with the faint scent of pine and something floral he couldn¡¯t place. Warmth began to rise from the enchanted radiators embedded in the marble floor, pushing back the morning chill. Jace rose, his feet making a soft sound against the ornate mirror on the wall. He half expected to see someone else, but it was just him, just Jason.
With practiced ease, he activated his gear, adjusting the familiar weight of his pack over his shoulder. The orb that had woken him dimmed and floated silently back into its recessed alcove. The magical alarm had served its purpose; now, the day awaited.
Jace entered the lobby, the cold lingering on his cloak as the grand double doors whispered shut behind him. The light filtering through the high, arched windows painted the room in hues of gold and sapphire, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor. The others were already there.
Alice stood beside one of the ornately carved pillars, her fingers idly tracing the edge of a well-worn map spread across the stone ledge. Her blonde hair caught the light, a sharp contrast to her intense, focused expression. Nearby, Marcus leaned against the wall, his foot tapping an erratic rhythm against the floor, the sharp click of his boot echoing in the vast space. Dex, as usual, exuded restless energy, tossing a coin repeatedly and catching it with the precision of someone who never missed. Molly sat perched on the edge of a bench, absently sketching in the margins of a notebook, while Ell loomed silently near the staircase, arms crossed and gaze distant. She stood when she spotted Jace.
¡°Well, look who finally decided to show up,¡± Ell called out, grinning as she pocketed the coin. ¡°Starting to think you were going to miss your own climb.¡±
¡°Good to see you, too,¡± Jace replied, his tone dry but his expression softening as he took in the familiar sight of them. It was strange how quickly this motley crew had become his anchor in a world where nothing else felt real.
The walk to the Sapphire Tower was quieter than Jace expected, the usual banter muted by thoughts of what lay ahead.
Even Dex, who could normally banter his way through a hurricane, kept his jokes to himself. Their boots crunched softly on the snow-dusted cobblestones, the sound swallowed by the enormity of the city around them.
They must have dimmed the heat crystals for effect, because even the Merchants Circle was now gently frosted with snow.
The walk passed without notice as they made their way into the heart of the Stronghold; the Inner Circle. And then, the Sapphire Tower came into full view.
It wasn¡¯t just a building. It was a statement. A challenge. A promise. The crystalline monolith stretched skyward, its surface a jagged masterpiece of azure power that captured the sunlight and splintered it into a thousand cascading rainbows. Each step closer felt like walking into a dreamscape¡ªbeautiful, yes, but also impossibly alien, a place that didn¡¯t belong in the mortal world.
Jace slowed, his breath fogging in the crisp air. Around him, the city buzzed with life, the energy almost frantic. Thousands of people filled the plaza before the tower¡ªcompetitors, spectators, mentors, and those who were simply there to witness history. Flags and banners of every color snapped in the icy breeze, their vibrant hues clashing in a chaotic tapestry of university pride. Olympians mingled with their own, their bright cloaks and polished emblems shining like stars in the wintry daylight.
The platform came into focus, a wooden structure hastily erected at the tower¡¯s base. It was simple but sturdy, its rough boards lending a stark contrast to the crystalline perfection towering above. Atop it stood the Regent, their silver-trimmed robes shifting in the wind like liquid light. He stood alongside his assistant, laughter bubbling between them as his eyes darted to the crowd, quick and watchful, like he was always searching for something¡ªor someone.
Jace¡¯s gaze swept over the Olympian crowd until he spotted Brutus, towering above the others like a living monument. Finding him wasn¡¯t exactly a challenge. If Brutus was here, the Master of Games couldn¡¯t be far; the man had a knack for appearing.
The Olympian students clustered in groups, their nervous energy palpable. Some lingered near the base of the Sapphire Tower, craning their necks to take in its shimmering height. Others stood at a distance, their expressions a mix of awe, trepidation, and barely contained excitement. The tower seemed to pull at them, its crystalline surface gleaming like a promise¡ªor a threat.
Jace exchanged a glance with the others. They had a moment before the ceremony officially began, so they wove their way through the crowd and headed toward the tower themselves, drawn by the same magnetic pull.
The base of the structure shimmered, alive with shifting light. Names¡ªthousands upon thousands of names¡ªwere etched into the glass, glowing faintly like embers in a dying fire. They moved, rearranging themselves in intricate, fluid patterns, as if the tower itself were a living thing. Jace¡¯s eyes followed the letters as they danced. These weren¡¯t just names. They were the records of those who had come before. Every triumph. Every failure. Every soul that had dared to step forward.
¡°The names rewrite themselves when someone falls, marking the number,¡± Alice murmured as she stepped up beside him. Her voice was soft, almost reverent, as if anything louder might shatter the fragile stillness that hung around the tower. She reached out, her gloved fingers brushing the cool surface of the crystalline structure. For a fleeting moment, the swirling letters stilled, as though recognizing her touch, before continuing their ceaseless dance.
The group¡¯s eyes caught on the names etched into the glass¡ªeach one accompanied by a number, a stark and unforgiving reminder of how far that climber had made it before they fell.
The Regent, standing tall upon the platform, raised his hands, his voice cutting through the growing din with practiced authority. ¡°Silence!¡± he commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding. The crowd stilled, their desperate cries dying down to murmurs as all eyes turned to him.
¡°Know this, once you sign your name, the gods will not save you,¡± the Regent began, his voice resonating across the square. ¡°Not now. Not here. For you stand before the Tower, bound by a pact forged millennia ago¡ªa covenant older than any of us, older than this city, older than even the gods you revere.¡±
He gestured to the towering crystalline monolith behind him, its surface alive with shifting names. ¡°This Tower is not merely a test. It is a binding. Long ago, when the gods roamed freely among mortals, they recognized the danger of their interference. Their gifts, their powers, their favor¡ªit became a burden, a temptation that corrupted mortals and gods alike. And so, they made a pact.¡±
The Regent¡¯s gaze swept over the crowd, his eyes cold and unyielding. ¡°The gods swore never to interfere, to neither give nor take from any mortal whose name is inscribed upon this Tower. From the moment your name is etched into its surface, you are cut off. No blessings, no protection, no power drawn from your devotion. You stand alone, until the Tower itself deems your climb complete, your name erased upon success¡ or death¡ or retreat.¡±
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the gathered students and faculty. ¡°This is the rule. The unbreakable law of the climb. No prayers will reach them. No divine hand will lift you. If you ascend, you do so on your own strength, your own will. That is the trial. That is the price.¡±
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd as the Regent¡¯s words sank in, their faces reflecting disbelief, fear, and anger.
¡°And yet,¡± the Regent continued, his voice now softer but no less commanding, ¡°it is by this very pact that the Tower¡¯s power remains absolute. It grants you the chance to rise beyond even the gods, to carve your own fate into the annals of eternity. But understand this¡ªthose who falter, those who hesitate, those who pray for salvation that will never come¡ they are the ones whose names will never cross out. They will linger here, in eternal limbo, neither alive nor truly dead.¡±
He stepped back, his golden robes shimmering in the morning light. ¡°This is the pact of the gods. And this is the choice before you. Will you rise? Or will you fall?¡±
Jace swallowed hard, his gaze lifting to the tower¡¯s heights. He couldn¡¯t see the top, only the endless stretch of sapphire rising into the cloud-speckled sky. It felt as though the tower were staring back at him, sizing him up, measuring his worth against the names already written in its history.
¡°Beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡± Ell¡¯s voice broke the tension, her tone lighter but not without its own edge of awe. ¡°In a ¡®probably going to kill us all¡¯ kind of way.¡±
Dex shifted nervously, his hand fidgeting with the edge of his cloak. ¡°Still time to back out, right?¡± he muttered, earning a glare from Marcus.
¡°No one¡¯s backing out,¡± Jace said, his voice firm but low. He adjusted the strap of his pack, the familiar weight grounding him. ¡°We didn¡¯t come this far just to turn around now.¡±
¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said finally, stepping forward. The others followed, their steps steady, their resolve unspoken but palpable.
The tower loomed over them, casting its shadow across the plaza as they approached. It wasn¡¯t just a test. It was a reckoning. And as they passed beneath its crystalline arch, Jace couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the names etched into the glass were watching.
Alice froze mid-step, her head tilting slightly as her eyes fixed on a single point among the swirling names etched into the tower. Her pupils caught a faint luminescence, a flicker that betrayed her Sight flaring to life¡ªthe gift that peeled back the curtain of the world, letting her glimpse what others couldn¡¯t. She stayed like that, motionless but utterly intent, as if hearing a whisper meant only for her.
¡°Jace,¡± she murmured, a soft urgency threading her voice. She gestured him closer without breaking her gaze. ¡°Look at this.¡±
He stepped beside her, following her line of sight. Among the endless dance of letters, a name stood out, glowing briefly before slipping back into the whirl: Rita Nutkins. The moment stretched as Jace stared, the name hitting him like a strike to the chest.
He hadn¡¯t expected to see her name here, and now that it stared back at him, he realized how naive that had been. Of course she would¡¯ve come here. A lot of people had, chasing glory or something even more dangerous. But something wasn¡¯t right. His gut twisted, his Truthsense humming faintly, off-key and insistent. And then it clicked. His chest tightened.
Her name didn¡¯t have a number beside it.
¡°Do you see it?¡± Alice asked, her voice quieter now.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Jace nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. ¡°There¡¯s no number.¡±
Dex edged closer, his face clouded with confusion. ¡°What does that mean?¡±
¡°It means she never came out,¡± Jace replied, his voice low but steady. ¡°And it means we¡¯ll need to keep our eyes open in there.¡±
The words settled heavily between them, and for a moment, the group stood in uneasy silence. The tower loomed above, cold and vast, a silent witness to the countless stories etched into its glass.
The Regent stood tall on the grand platform at the base of the tower, his golden robe gleaming in the morning light. The crowd stretched before him, a sea of eager faces, each carrying a mix of determination and trepidation. He raised a hand, and a deep, resonant silence fell.
¡°Today, we stand on the precipice of history,¡± the Regent began, his voice resonant and commanding, sweeping over the crowd like a rising tide. His words carried an almost hypnotic cadence, drawing the listeners in despite the chill in the air. ¡°Before you lies the climb¡ªa trial of strength, of will, and of spirit. Many have faced it, few have proven themselves worthy.¡±
For a moment, his polished smile faltered, the crack so subtle it might have gone unnoticed. But in that instant, his veneer slipped, revealing something raw and venomous beneath. His eyes scanned the crowd with thinly veiled disgust, his lips curling ever so slightly in contempt.
¡°And I seriously doubt,¡± he continued, his tone hardening just enough to cut, ¡°that any of you will be.¡±
The mask snapped back into place with a practiced ease, his smile broad and inviting once more. But the warmth in it was false, as hollow as the promises that had led them all here. His gaze lingered, predatory and calculating.
He paused, his piercing gaze sweeping across the gathered contestants. ¡°But know this,¡± he continued, his tone hardening like steel. ¡°The names you scribe on this sacred Sapphire mark more than your participation. They sever the bonds between you and your gods. From the moment your name appears, your deities cannot aid you, cannot empower you, and cannot receive your devotion. Here, you stand alone. Not as chosen, but as challengers. And pray.¡±
A ripple of unease passed through the crowd, but the Regent pressed on, his voice unwavering. ¡°This is the price of the Climb, the proof of your resolve. For only those who face the trials unaided can ascend to true greatness. Now, step forward. Write your names and claim your fate.¡±
He gestured to the tower behind him, its surface smooth and glimmering faintly. The contestants hesitated, glancing at one another before a brave few stepped forward.
They approached the slab in reverent silence, raising trembling fingers to its surface. As they pressed their fingertips against the stone, blue lines of light sprang to life, forming their names in glowing, elegant script. The stone seemed to hum with approval, and the contestants stepped back, their faces pale but resolute.
One by one, the entrants stepped forward, their movements stiff with apprehension. The air hummed with an unnatural charge as each person pressed their hand against the crystalline tower, the surface gleaming like polished ice. With every touch, a name etched itself onto the glass, glowing faintly before dissolving into the intricate latticework that twisted and turned within the structure. It was a small but irrevocable surrender¡ªeach name becoming a part of the tower¡¯s eternal design.
Jace lingered at the edge of the crowd, his heart thundering in his chest. He watched the steady progression of initiates, each adding their name to the shimmering monolith. The moment pressed down on him, an invisible force heavy as lead. Finally, the line in front of him thinned, and his turn came.
The polished stone beneath his boots seemed to mock him with its pristine perfection. Each step toward the tower felt deliberate, every sound drowned by the sharp crackle of the charged air. Jace raised his hand, hesitating as the surface of the crystal seemed to ripple under his touch. Then, with a slow exhale, he pressed his fingers against it.
A flash of light burst forth, blinding in its intensity. His name burned into existence¡ªJace¡ªas if branded by fire itself. The letters glowed brighter than those before, a searing intensity that lingered for a heartbeat longer than it should have. Then, they dissolved, shooting upward into the swirling mosaic. For a breathless moment, all seemed still.
Then came the severance.
It hit him like a blade, sudden and sharp, slicing through the tether he hadn¡¯t realized was so vital. The constant, steady presence of Hades¡ªthe faint hum of energy that had always been there¡ªwas gone. A hollow ache bloomed in its place, raw and gnawing. Jace staggered back, gripping his chest as if he could hold onto the piece of himself that had been ripped away.
Ell stood at the base of the platform after inscribing her name, her braid glinting in the tower¡¯s faint glow. Her knuckles whitened as they gripped her blade, her stance taut with barely contained tension. ¡°From here on out, it¡¯s just us,¡± she said, her voice low and resolute.
Jace descended the steps, his breathing shallow. ¡°It feels¡ wrong,¡± he murmured, the words barely audible over the murmur of the crowd.
Around them, the effects rippled like a silent explosion. Entrants clutched their stomachs, staggered, or fell to their knees. Faces paled, breaths quickened, and a quiet despair filled the air. Jace scanned the gathering, noting how differently each reacted to the severance. Caspen, poised and aloof, seemed untouched, his lips curving into a faint smile. The royals, insulated by their divine heritage, bore little change. But for most, the loss was a wound they could not yet comprehend.
Instinct took over, and Jace checked himself, his mind racing through his list of abilities. Relief flooded him as he felt his powers still thrumming beneath the surface, though their source felt distant. Hades¡¯ gifts, embedded deep within his essence, had survived through the ability evolution¡ªthey had become bound to him, powered by his own soul. But that tether¡ªhis connection to his god¡ªwas gone.
Before Jace could react, he was swept up in the crowd, and it took everything he had no to lose his friends in the sea of people. They made their way back to their University banners.
The Regent¡¯s voice shattered the stillness, cutting through the collective haze like a blade. ¡°The climb awaits,¡± he declared, his tone sharp and commanding. ¡°Those who have written their names, take your positions. The path to glory begins now.¡±
More the entrants stepped forward, their movements stiff with apprehension. Each person pressed their hand against the crystalline tower, the surface gleaming like polished ice. With every touch, a name etched itself onto the glass, glowing faintly before dissolving into the intricate latticework that twisted and turned within the structure. It was a small but irrevocable surrender¡ªeach name becoming a part of the tower¡¯s eternal design.
But writing their name was only the first step.
After their names faded into the swirling mosaic, the students rejoined their factions and formed lines before the glowing arches to enter. With quiet determination, they pressed forward and stepped into the crystalline surface itself. The polished wall shimmered faintly as it accepted them, their figures vanishing as though swallowed whole. There was no dramatic sound, no blinding light¡ªjust an eerie, unsettling stillness as they disappeared.
Light burst from the platform beneath the tower, pulsing in rhythmic waves that seemed to match the racing of Jace¡¯s heart. A choral fanfare swelled, ominous and exultant, as if heralding both triumph and doom.
A dozen luminous arches shimmered to life at the Tower¡¯s base, each glowing with an ethereal brilliance. Around them, the representatives of the various Universities assembled in orderly groups, their formations stretching into long, disciplined lines.
Jace went back and stepped into formation alongside the Olympians. Whatever lay beyond, there was no turning back now.
¡°You ready?¡± Alice asked, her voice steady but low.
Jace flexed his hands, forcing his breath to even out. ¡°Ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± he said, though the unease simmering in his chest betrayed him.
The air shifted then, subtle but undeniable. It wasn¡¯t the cool breeze from the snow-draped streets or the faint hum of magic that lingered in the tower¡¯s shadow. It was something darker, heavier¡ªan almost tangible ripple that coursed through the crowd like an unseen wave. Jace froze, the fine hairs on the back of his neck prickling to attention.
He watched as hundreds of students vanished into the tower arches, their faces set with grim resolve or nervous trepidation. The line moved steadily, an orderly flow of bodies that the tower consumed without pause. Behind them, murmurs rippled through the crowd, a nervous rhythm that matched the growing tension in the air.
His Truthsense flared, bright and searing, a beacon demanding his attention. It burned hot in his mind, insistent and unrelenting. But it offered no answers¡ªonly the overwhelming certainty that something was deeply, undeniably wrong.
His friends stood close behind, their unease mirroring his. They were getting closer, only a few rows of entrant ahead of them before they would reach the arch. But Jace thrust out a hand, stopping them in their tracks. The line behind them pressed forward, students muttering their frustration as the flow of bodies surged toward the tower. Jace, however, stood firm, forming an eddy in the river of Climbers.
¡°What¡¯s the holdup?¡± a small man muttered, shooting Jace a sharp look before pushing past him.
Jace didn¡¯t respond. His gaze remained fixed on the spot where the last student had disappeared, the faint shimmer of the crystal rippling as another stepped forward. The unease that had been a whisper at the back of his mind now roared like a warning bell.
¡°Jace,¡± Alice prompted, her voice low but steady. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±
He shook his head, struggling to put the sensation into words. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he murmured. ¡°It¡¯s just¡ something feels off.¡±
¡°Of course it feels off,¡± Ell replied, her tone sharp with frustration. ¡°It¡¯s a giant magical tower eating people. What part of this isn¡¯t off?¡±
¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± Jace said, his voice strained.
¡°Move it already!¡± someone snapped from the line behind them, a student shoving past with a scowl. Others muttered complaints, their irritation barely concealed as they moved around the group.
¡°You¡¯re holding everyone up,¡± Marcus said through gritted teeth, his strained attempt at politeness barely masking the frustration in his eyes as he watched others pass them, slipping further ahead.
¡°Something¡¯s wrong,¡± Jace repeated, his voice quieter now, as though the words were meant for himself more than anyone else. His eyes were locked on the shimmering surface, the way it pulsed faintly as it absorbed each student. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it is, but¡ª¡±
¡°Jace,¡± Marcus interrupted, his tone harsh. ¡°If you¡¯re scared, fine. Say so. But don¡¯t drag us into it. We¡¯re already drawing too much attention.¡±
¡°Shut it, Marcus,¡± Dex snapped, his tone sharper than his usual laid-back demeanor. ¡°If Jace says something¡¯s off, then something¡¯s off.¡± He turned to Jace, his expression caught between skepticism and concern. His eyes betrayed that he didn¡¯t entirely believe his own words, but he wasn¡¯t about to let Marcus steamroll his friend. ¡°What¡¯s going on, man?¡±
Around them, students pressed forward, some casting annoyed glances their way while others whispered among themselves. The line moved steadily, flowing around Jace and his friends like water around a stubborn stone.
Jace turned to his friends, his throat tight with uncertainty. ¡°I¡¯m not scared,¡± he said, though even to his ears the words lacked conviction. ¡°It¡¯s just¡ª¡±
¡°Listen,¡± Marcus said sharply, his voice laced with urgency. ¡°The others are getting farther ahead with every passing second. You said it¡¯s important to make it to the top¡ªwell, every moment we waste is stacking the odds against us. Out here, a minute means nothing, but in there? That¡¯s a thousand. An hour? That¡¯s a month and a half. Every second we stand here, they¡¯re pulling farther ahead.¡±
Ell looked pained by it but nodded in agreement.
Jace¡¯s breathing quickened, his hands clenching at his sides. Every instinct screamed at him to stop, to wait, but he couldn¡¯t explain why. The tower called at them, its crystalline surface alive with swirling patterns, as if daring him to step forward. He felt the heat of his friends¡¯ stares, their unease blending with their impatience.
Finally, he exhaled and nodded, though the motion felt hollow.
¡°Alright,¡± he said, his voice barely audible. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±
But his feet remained planted, his body unwilling to follow his words. Around them, the line continued, the tower consuming student after student. The stillness between the hums of energy pressed against him like an invisible weight, and the wrongness in his chest grew, clawing at his thoughts.
Alice reached out, her hand brushing his arm. ¡°Jace,¡± she said softly, ¡°are you okay?¡±
¡°No,¡± he said, his voice breaking on the word. ¡°I can¡¯t describe it. It¡¯s just¡¡±
The air shifted¡ªa subtle but undeniable change, like the faintest tug on a thread in the fabric of reality. It wasn¡¯t something Jace could see or hear, but he felt it¡ªa pressure settling just beneath his skin, threading into his veins and pulling tight.
His breath hitched as his eyes scanned the crowd. The once-steady tension in the square thickened, transforming into something heavier, more oppressive. Faces that had been filled with determination or quiet resolve now showed flickers of unease. Voices murmured low and discordant, rippling through the gathered Climbers like an undercurrent of doubt. It wasn¡¯t panic¡ªnot yet¡ªbut it was growing, a dissonant note in the harmony of their purpose.
Jace turned back to the Tower, its crystalline surface reflecting the glow of the shifting names within. The names spiraled in intricate patterns, constantly rearranging, each etching itself into the glass before dissolving into the swirling mosaic. His heart pounded as he stared, his Truthsense flaring hot in his mind, screaming.
And yet¡ he couldn¡¯t see it.
Jace clenched his fists, frustration coiling with his unease. He drew in a shaky breath and pushed his aether into his Truthsense, sharpening it, feeding it with everything he had. The air around him seemed to thrum in response, faint ripples distorting the light as his power surged.
Nothing.
He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, the strain building behind his eyes. The hum in the air grew louder, resonating in his skull. Still, he saw nothing. An illusion¡ªthere had to be one. Something was obscuring the truth, hiding it just beyond his reach.
More. He needed more.
Blood trickled from his nose, warm and sticky as it ran down his lip. He ignored it, channeling deeper into his aether. Pain bloomed behind his eyes, sharp and blinding, but he didn¡¯t stop. His Truthsense burned bright and furious, tearing through the veil like a blade¡ªuntil the world itself seemed to split apart.
And then he saw it.
Jace collapsed to his knees, his vision swimming as blood streaked from his eyes, his ears ringing with the distant sound of someone calling his name. Alice¡ªher voice. Concern etched in its tone, but it barely registered.
Because now he saw it.
The names.
Hundreds. Thousands. Millions. They appeared on the Tower¡¯s surface, faint at first, then blazing bright before weaving seamlessly into the endless mosaic. Names that weren¡¯t being written by any entrant.
The names of those who had climbed before.
The names of everyone in the crowd.
The names of millions more.
The screams started slowly, but they rose in a crescendo, cutting through the murmurs like a knife. Travelers and Citizens alike clutched their heads, some dropping to their knees, blood streaming from their noses and eyes. Others fell entirely, writhing or lying still, their faces twisted in pain.
Jace¡¯s gaze snapped to Brutus, a towering figure in the distance. His hulking form crumpled as if struck down by an unseen hand, his knees slamming into the polished stone with a sickening thud.
¡°Jace!¡± Alice¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, sharper now, closer. Her hand hovered near her weapon, her body tense and poised to strike. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±
He forced himself to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. His voice caught in his throat as he gestured to the Tower. ¡°Check the names,¡± he rasped.
¡°What?¡± Alice¡¯s brow furrowed, her head tilting as she followed his gaze. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°Just look!¡±
Chapter Thirty: The Terror
Chapter Thirty: The Terror
Her eyes darted to the Tower, its surface alive with light and motion. Her breath hitched as she scanned the endless spiral of names¡ªher own gaze widening as recognition hit.
¡°No¡¡± The word escaped her lips like a gasp, her voice trembling.
The names of every person in the square glowed faintly within the Tower. Not just them¡ªbut countless others. Duplicate names, overlapping patterns, threads intertwining into a tapestry of power and despair.
Jace swallowed hard, the weight of the realization pressing down on him like a mountain. ¡°It¡¯s not just the climbers,¡± he said, his voice raw. ¡°It¡¯s everyone. Even the ones who¡¯ve already climbed.¡±
Alice¡¯s hands trembled at her sides. ¡°But that means¡¡±
¡°They¡¯re cut off.¡± Jace finished the thought, his throat tight. ¡°We¡¯re all cut off.¡±
A ripple of terror swept through the square as the crowd¡¯s realization spread like wildfire. Travelers screamed, some collapsing to the ground while others clutched at the air as if reaching for something that was no longer there.
And it wasn¡¯t just the Chosen. The gods themselves¡ªtethered to their chosen¡ªfelt the severance. Jace could sense it now, faint and distant, a ripple of power unmoored. Without their connection to their followers, the gods were losing their strength, their influence dimming with every second.
The Tower had taken everything.
¡°Jace,¡± Alice whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. Her eyes locked on his, wide with fear and something else¡ªsomething he didn¡¯t want to name. ¡°What do we do?¡±
He didn¡¯t have an answer.
The Tower loomed ahead, its surface aglow with stolen names, its crystalline form humming with an unyielding, alien power.
The air itself seemed to shudder as the Tower claimed its names, the once-hum of energy now a deafening roar in Jace¡¯s mind.
Students and faculty stood frozen, their voices rising in a chaotic chorus of pleas. Desperation filled the air as they called to the heavens, their prayers a raw cry for salvation, a plea to gods they had always trusted.
And then, the heavens answered.
The sky split apart with a deafening crack, a jagged wound tearing through the firmament.
Thousands of bright openings ripped all around them and the gods arrived.
They came in every shape and size, in forms mortal minds could scarcely comprehend.
A woman with skin of molten gold and hair cascading as liquid starlight strode across the district, her steps leaving glowing imprints in the air. A towering figure, half shadow and half blinding light, rose from the ground as if formed from the shifting balance of night and day. They appeared on the streets, in the sky, and above the Tower itself¡ªa thousand pantheons made manifest, their presence as overwhelming as the sun¡¯s first light after endless darkness.
The air turned thick with the scent of ozone and crushed flowers, of blood and burning incense. The gods¡¯ arrival should have been a moment of awe, their brilliance washing over the gathered crowd in waves.
But it wasn¡¯t.
As each god arrived, their movements slowed. First imperceptibly, then visibly, their immense forms faltering mid-step or mid-flight. Their glowing eyes dimmed, their expressions frozen as though caught between horror and confusion. One by one, their celestial brilliance flickered, then faded altogether.
The towering wolf stumbled, its legs trembling as it collapsed into a crouch. Its fur dulled, the stars within it winking out until only lifeless gray strands remained. The molten goddess froze mid-reach, her outstretched hand cooling to lifeless bronze. The figure of light and shadow fractured, both halves coalescing into a dull, brittle stone.
And then they were still.
Stone.
Every god, every goddess, every divine being that answered the unspoken call became statues¡ªimmense and unmoving, their once-living forms now frozen relics of their grandeur. Their light extinguished, their auras snuffed out. The wolf¡¯s head drooped, the stars gone from its eyes. The molten goddess crumbled to her knees, her golden glow reduced to cold, lifeless metal. The district became a graveyard of forgotten deities, their vast power reduced to brittle forms that could not hold their weight. A graveyard of the gods.
Screams erupted from the crowd as the devastation became clear. Worshipers rushed forward, calling out to their gods with desperate, breaking voices.
A woman in white fell to her knees before a small, shrine-like structure¡ªa miniature temple she had carried with her to honor her goddess of the harvest. Her shaking hands reached for the figure atop the shrine, a delicate statue carved from alabaster.
¡°Please,¡± she whispered, tears streaming down her face. ¡°Please, help us!¡±
The shrine began to shudder, its foundation cracking with an ear-splitting groan. The woman gasped, clutching the crumbling statue. Her hands tightened around it as though to protect her goddess, but as the structure gave way, it toppled. The alabaster figure fell, shattering into a thousand pieces upon the stone below.
¡°No!¡± she screamed, her voice raw and anguished.
The statue¡¯s lifeless hand lay shattered among the debris, its fingers outstretched toward the woman, frozen in a gesture of unfulfilled mercy.
Around the square, others reached for their gods, pleading for aid, but their prayers fell into the void. Statues broke apart under the weight of their divine forms, collapsing into rubble. Others stood whole but silent, their once-vibrant features now dull and unseeing.
The higher-ranked individuals¡ªthe champions and paragons of the gods¡ªfared no better. Their faces paled, their breaths came shallow and ragged, and their limbs trembled with weakness. Auras that had once shone bright as suns now flickered like dying embers. Some clutched at their chests, gasping as though the severance had ripped something vital from within.
Chaos erupted in every direction. People screamed, wailed, and clung to each other, their fear feeding on itself in a self-consuming loop. Some tried to flee, shoving their way through the crowd with wild, desperate eyes. Others stood paralyzed, their faces slack with disbelief. The square became a storm of sound and motion, a cacophony of sobbing, pleading, and shouted prayers that went unanswered.
¡°Jace,¡± Alice¡¯s voice cut through the pandemonium, sharp and strained. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back as a statue teetered above them. ¡°We need to get out of here!¡±
Jace barely registered her words. His gaze was locked on the Tower, its surface alive with swirling names. Every name. Every man, woman, and child in Terra Mythica etched onto its crystalline facade.
Alice followed his gaze, her breath catching in her throat as she saw it too. The vast mosaic of light, stretching upward into infinity, held the names of everyone¡ªthose who had climbed, those who had not, even duplicates etched as though mocking their individuality. The Tower had claimed them all.
And the gods, the beings who had ruled Terra Mythica for eons, were powerless to stop it.
The Regent was nowhere to be seen.
And the Tower stood tall, indifferent to the ruin it had wrought.
Jace staggered back a step, his breath catching in his throat. A crushing emptiness rushed into the void left behind¡ªa tether severed so violently it felt like his soul had been stripped bare. Hades¡¯ presence, faint yet constant, was gone, as if plucked from the fabric of his being. The absence left him gasping, the world around him suddenly heavier, every edge sharper, every shadow deeper.
"How do you kill a god?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, raw and broken. ¡°Kill their believers.¡±
Alice stood still, her expression grim.
The weight of her words rippled through the air like a stone cast into still water. Cries erupted across the square. People clutched at their chests as if trying to reclaim something lost, some collapsing to their knees. A man screamed, ¡°Selene! I can¡¯t feel her!¡± His voice cracked, despair ripping through it. Another fell forward, clawing at the cobblestones, muttering prayers that faltered into silence as the void claimed them.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
Jace clenched his fists, trying to ground himself. ¡°Bound. Frozen. Whatever power is behind this¡ it¡¯s killing them.¡± His voice was low, barely audible over the rising panic. ¡°Their power is draining, and there¡¯s nothing they can do to stop it.¡±
The ground trembled beneath their feet. A deep, resonant boom rolled across the square, the kind that made bones shiver and hearts lurch. All eyes turned to the towering barrier wall in the distance. Once an unyielding shield of shimmering energy, it now flickered weakly, its light sputtering like a dying flame. Cracks began to splinter across its surface, faint lines at first, but spreading wider with every passing second.
¡°There is nothing to fear!¡± A nobleman, his voice thin and cracking, climbed onto the wooden platform at the square¡¯s edge. ¡°This barrier has stood for centuries¡ªit will hold!¡± He gripped the railing with white-knuckled intensity, his words desperate rather than commanding.
Jace¡¯s gaze locked on the darkness pressing against the other side of the wall. It pulsed, alive and hungry, testing the barrier like a predator toying with its prey. The shield¡¯s light dimmed further, its cracks glowing faintly, embers on the verge of snuffing out.
A deafening crack tore through the air, sharp and final. A jagged piece of the barrier wall broke free, falling away and dissolving into nothingness as it touched the void. The darkness surged, pressing forward, rippling with raw anticipation.
The noble¡¯s voice rose, shrill and panicked. ¡°It will hold! It must hold!¡± But his trembling tone betrayed him, the lie crumbling in the face of the inevitable.
¡°It won¡¯t.¡± Jace¡¯s voice was steady, cutting through the chaos with chilling certainty. His jaw tightened as another tremor shook the ground.
The barrier flickered violently, its light collapsing in on itself. The void surged, pouring through the growing fractures like a tide breaking free. Whatever power had been set into motion was unstoppable now, and Jace knew this was only the beginning.
Amid the chaos, Jace spotted Lyra at the edge of the crowd. She stood out, fragile yet upright, as though sheer willpower anchored her to the cobblestones. He cut through the throng, guiding the group carefully. Maybe Lyra had answers, or at least a clue to make sense of the madness unraveling around them.
A man surged forward from the mass, his graying beard flecked with frost and his weathered face taut with defiance. Every step he took carried the weight of battles fought long ago. ¡°This is madness,¡± he bellowed, his voice slicing through the rising din. ¡°I want no part of your games!¡± His arm thrust forward, trembling as he leveled a finger at the Tower itself, as though sheer force might topple its shimmering glass spire.
The crowd stilled, a collective intake of breath freezing the air as his indignation crumbled. His gaze fixed on the swirling, iridescent surface of the Tower, and all the fire in his expression flickered out.
¡°No,¡± he whispered, the word catching like a fragile thread. ¡°No.¡± His outstretched hand quivered, the strength in his defiance unraveling. ¡°How¡ How is my name here?¡± His voice rose, trembling under the weight of disbelief.
Jace¡¯s gaze followed the man¡¯s. Among the twisting names on the Tower¡¯s surface, one burned brighter, the letters briefly holding their shape: Tobias Thren. The name pulsed once, like a heartbeat, then dissolved back into the restless glass.
Lyra was beside him now, her silver eyes clouded with unease. ¡°Tobias,¡± she said softly, though her voice carried a sharpened edge, ¡°don¡¯t.¡±
But he didn¡¯t seem to hear. His hand stretched forward, his fingers brushing the Tower¡¯s glowing arch. The crystalline sheen brightened, glowing faintly under his touch. Tobias staggered, his face twisted with desperation as if he could pry the truth from the Tower itself.
¡°Lyra!¡± Jace called, his friends trailing close behind. ¡°What¡¯s happening? What does it mean?¡±
Lyra shook her head, her expression grim. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said, ¡°but Tobias is about to do something reckless.¡±
The air grew heavy. Tobias pressed his palm against the Tower, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, the world seemed to exhale.
A burst of energy erupted from the Tower¡¯s base, a ripple of raw, unseen force that sent Tobias hurtling backward. He crashed onto the cobblestones, a sharp cry of pain cutting through the stunned silence.
¡°You can¡¯t enter,¡± Lyra said, stepping forward. Her voice was steady, though faint tremors betrayed the tension in her frame. ¡°Not unless you meet the conditions.¡±
Tobias groaned, dragging himself to a seated position. His trembling hands scrabbled against the stone. ¡°Conditions?¡± he spat, his voice raw with fury. ¡°What conditions? I didn¡¯t agree to this!¡±
¡°You don¡¯t have to,¡± Lyra replied, her tone darkening. ¡°That¡¯s the point.¡±
Alice edged closer to the Tower, each step deliberate and weighted. Her silver-blonde hair caught the faint glow of the swirling names, though her eyes shone with a light of their own. Her Sight, sharp and unrelenting, peeled back layers hidden from mortal view. She reached out, her fingers trembling as they hovered near the Tower¡¯s surface. ¡°It¡¯s not just us,¡± she murmured, her voice distant, like a whisper pulled from the edge of a dream.
Jace stepped beside her, his presence grounding as his brow furrowed. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
Alice¡¯s gaze never wavered from the glass, her breath slow and shallow. ¡°The names,¡± she said, her voice fragile but unwavering. ¡°There aren¡¯t just hundreds. Or thousands. There are millions. Maybe billions.¡±
Her words hung in the air, heavy as lead. Jace¡¯s stomach knotted, the weight of her revelation pressing against him. The ground beneath his feet felt unsteady, as though the world itself threatened to shift out of place. ¡°What are you saying?¡± he asked, his voice low, though he feared the answer.
Alice turned to him, her eyes shimmering with unearthly light. Her words fell like a death knell. ¡°It¡¯s everyone. The whole world. All of Terra Mythica has been severed from the gods.¡±
The realization struck like a hammer on glass, shattering the tenuous calm. The crowd around them erupted in a cascade of panic. Voices rose, sharp with anger and desperation. Some surged toward the Regent¡¯s platform, shouting demands and accusations, their faces flushed with fear. Others crumpled to their knees, tears carving paths down pale cheeks as the enormity of their loss overwhelmed them. The square was a chaotic symphony of grief, disbelief, and raw terror.
¡°This can¡¯t be real,¡± someone nearby muttered, their words trembling like a candle in the wind. ¡°The gods wouldn¡¯t abandon us.¡±
Jace¡¯s chest tightened as he scanned the square. The suffocating tide of despair clawed at him, threatening to pull him under. He turned to Lyra, her form ghostlike in the roiling turmoil. ¡°We need answers,¡± he demanded, his voice steely. ¡°Now.¡±
Before Lyra could respond, a deep, resonant boom reverberated through the air. It rolled across the square like the heartbeat of the earth itself, warped and unnatural. The sound silenced the crowd in an instant, dread filling the void left behind. All eyes turned toward the barrier wall encircling the city.
The once-pristine shield of light flickered erratically, its radiant surface veined with cracks that glowed like molten fire. Each fracture pulsed, the rhythm unsettlingly alive.
¡°Stay calm!¡± the Regent¡¯s voice broke through the heavy silence as he scrambled atop the platform. His arms spread wide in a gesture of reassurance, though his eyes betrayed him. ¡°The barrier has stood for centuries. It will hold!¡±
But his words were hollow, a prayer cast to an empty sky. The wall quaked under another deafening boom, the cracks widening as shards of light splintered away, dissolving into the encroaching void. Beyond the failing barrier, the darkness writhed¡ªan ancient, malevolent force pressing against the fractures, eager to consume.
¡°It¡¯s failing,¡± Alice whispered, her voice almost swallowed by the rising wind. Her glowing eyes reflected the collapsing barrier, the fear in them stark. ¡°The barrier¡ it¡¯s breaking.¡±
The Regent¡¯s composure shattered. ¡°It will hold!¡± he shouted again, but this time his voice cracked, betraying the tremor of fear beneath his insistence.
Jace¡¯s gaze darted to the Tower, its swirling names relentless, heedless of the chaos consuming the square. The frigid air bit into his skin, but it was the void pressing against the barrier that seeped into his bones, filling him with a hollow, creeping cold. He clenched his fists, the weight of the moment bearing down on him.
The gods weren¡¯t coming. The Regent had no answers. The crowd¡¯s hope had withered to ashes.
Jace¡¯s pulse quickened as the choice before him solidified: step into the unknown, to whatever the Tower demanded, or be swallowed by the void and the despair it carried.
The air in the square was thick with dread, pulling taut with each passing moment. Then it came¡ªa deep, resonant boom that rattled the ground and stole the breath from their lungs. All eyes turned to the barrier wall, its once-flawless shield of shimmering light trembling under unseen force. The glow faltered, sputtering like a flame caught in a storm.
Cracks snaked across the surface, faint at first but spreading like jagged lightning. Pulses of dim light escaped the fractures, the faltering heartbeat of a failing defense.
¡°Stay calm!¡± the Nobleman shouted, scrambling onto the platform. His hands rose high, as if his gestures alone could restore order. ¡°This barrier has stood for centuries! It will hold!¡±
The words rang hollow. His darting eyes betrayed his confidence as the shield shuddered and the fractures deepened. Beyond the wall, the darkness churned¡ªalive and malevolent. Tendrils of shadow slithered against the cracks, testing the fractures with patient malice.
Another boom, louder than the first, ripped through the square. Pieces of the barrier splintered away, dissolving into the void beyond. A sharp, icy wind swept through, carrying the stench of decay.
Jace clenched his fists as the cold bit into his skin, but it was the oppressive weight pressing against his chest that unsettled him. The darkness wasn¡¯t just testing the barrier anymore; it was testing them.
¡°It¡¯s failing,¡± Alice whispered, her glowing eyes fixed on the cracks. ¡°The barrier¡ it¡¯s breaking.¡±
Panic erupted like a dam bursting. Some bolted, instincts screaming for escape despite nowhere to run. Others froze, paralyzed by terror. Cries of confusion and raw fear drowned the Regent¡¯s frantic attempts to restore order.
A deafening crack split the air, sharp and visceral. A jagged shard of the barrier broke free, vanishing as it met the void. Darkness surged forward, its tendrils spilling into the breach with ravenous hunger. The cold struck Jace like a blow, clawing into his core and wrapping tight.
¡°It will hold!¡± the Nobleman shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. ¡°It must hold!¡±
The barrier dimmed further, its light reduced to erratic flickers. Another tremor sent shards cascading into the void, the darkness pulsating in triumph. Its presence bore down on the square like a living force, each beat spreading a fresh wave of despair.
Jace¡¯s gaze snapped to the Tower, its swirling names indifferent to the chaos. No answers would come¡ªnot from the Regent, not from the gods. Whatever severed their connection and unleashed this void was beyond their understanding. And it was far from over.
¡°This isn¡¯t just about us anymore,¡± Jace muttered, his jaw tight. ¡°It¡¯s bigger than we imagined.¡±
Lyra¡¯s hand gripped his shoulder. ¡°We need to stay calm,¡± she said, her voice steady against the rising storm. ¡°Panic won¡¯t help.¡±
Another roar tore through the square as a massive chunk of the barrier shattered. A shockwave of raw energy forced Jace to brace himself, the flash blinding and scorching the air. When he lowered his arm, his stomach twisted.
The darkness surged, unrestrained now. From its depths, horrors began to emerge¡ªshifting, grotesque forms with too many limbs, glowing eyes, and shapes that defied reason. They poured from the void like a tide of nightmares, their movements erratic yet purposeful.
Jace¡¯s breath hitched as the first monstrous figure stepped forward. The trials hadn¡¯t even begun, and the world was already unraveling.
They came in waves, an unending tide of grotesque horrors that defied reason. Their forms twisted and wrong, jagged claws scraping against the ground as glowing eyes burned through the smoke-filled air. The undead surged forward, snarling and shrieking, their decayed bodies trailing dark mist that clung to the battlefield like an omen.
Chapter Thirty-One: The Trouble with Towers
Chapter Thirty-One: The Trouble with Towers
¡°Form the line!¡± a knight in gold lined armor bellowed, his voice ragged but commanding. City guards stepped forward and followed his direction The warriors of the various kingdoms scrambled into formation, shields locking and weapons raised. Their shouts of determination were met with the guttural roars of the advancing horde. But even as the defenders braced themselves, the sheer number of enemies threatened to overwhelm.
The first clash was thunderous. Swords met corrupted flesh, steel ringing against bone. Shields splintered under the relentless force of clawed strikes, and the air filled with cries of pain and fury. The line buckled but held, a desperate barricade against the onslaught.
Jace barely had time to react as one of the creatures broke through. It lunged at him, its jaws snapping inches from his face, reeking of rot and violence. He twisted to the side, his blade flashing upward. The edge of his sword bit deep into the creature¡¯s neck, severing its head in a single brutal motion. The force of the blow staggered him, but there was no time to recover. Another monstrosity leaped forward, claws outstretched.
Around him, the battle was chaos. Alice stood a few paces away, her hands alight with sputtering magic. She launched a blast of energy that struck an advancing beast, but the spell faltered, barely slowing the creature¡¯s charge. Her face was pale, sweat glistening on her brow as she tried to summon more power.
¡°Alice, behind you!¡± Jace shouted, his voice raw. She spun just in time to raise a glowing barrier, the translucent shield barely absorbing the impact of a leaping undead. The force drove her to her knees, and Jace sprinted to her side, slashing through the creature before it could finish its attack.
Dex fought nearby, his heavy axe cleaving through a pair of skeletal foes with raw, desperate swings. His movements were slower than usual, his breath labored, and Jace could see the strain in his posture. A third creature lunged at him from the side, but Ell darted in, her dagger flashing as she plunged it into the beast¡¯s skull. The creature collapsed, and Ell offered Dex a brief nod before disappearing back into the fray.
¡°Focus up!¡± Ell shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. She moved like a shadow, her agility still intact, but there was a noticeable lack of power in her strikes. Each kill required more effort, more precision, and even she couldn¡¯t keep her pace forever.
Marcus and Molly held their ground further down the line, shields locked together as they absorbed the relentless attacks. Marcus barked orders, his voice steady despite the blood running down his temple. Molly¡¯s sword lashed out from behind her shield, her strikes methodical but strained. A creature¡¯s claw scraped against her arm, leaving a shallow gash, but she didn¡¯t falter.
¡°We¡¯re losing ground!¡± Marcus yelled, his shield shuddering under another heavy blow.
Jace¡¯s mind raced as he parried another attack, the impact jarring his arms. They couldn¡¯t keep this up. The horde was relentless, and the defenders were weakening by the second. The loss of their divine connections was a noose tightening around their throats, every action requiring more effort, every movement draining precious strength.
A piercing screech cut through the battlefield, freezing Jace in place. One of the larger creatures, a towering amalgamation of bone and sinew, stepped forward. Its eyes glowed a sickly green, and a dense, suffocating aura radiated from its form. The ground beneath it seemed to rot away with every step, tendrils of decay spreading outward.
¡°What the hell is that?¡± Dex growled, his axe trembling in his grip.
The beast¡¯s maw opened, and a torrent of black mist poured forth, sweeping across the battlefield. Jace dove to the side, the edge of the mist brushing against his leg. Pain flared instantly, a cold, gnawing sensation that left him gasping.
¡°Don¡¯t let it touch you!¡± Alice screamed, throwing a shield of light around herself and Ell. The mist slammed against the barrier, pushing her to the brink of collapse as she strained to hold it.
Jace pushed himself to his feet, his sword raised. ¡°We need to take it down now!¡±
Ell darted forward, weaving between the smaller creatures that swarmed around the beast. Her daggers flashed as she sliced through tendons and joints, trying to cripple the monstrosity. It roared, swiping at her with a massive, clawed hand. She ducked under the strike, but the ground cracked beneath the force of the blow, sending her sprawling.
¡°Ell!¡± Jace shouted, rushing to her aid. He leaped onto the creature¡¯s back, driving his blade into the base of its neck. The beast howled, twisting violently as it tried to shake him off. He held on, plunging the blade deeper, dark ichor spilling from the wound.
Dex charged in with a roar, his axe cleaving into one of the beast¡¯s legs. The impact sent a shockwave through the creature, forcing it to stagger. Alice, summoning the last of her strength, launched a concentrated blast of light directly into the monster¡¯s chest. The explosion tore through its torso, and the creature collapsed with a final, ear-splitting shriek.
For a brief moment, the battlefield stilled. The remaining undead hesitated, their movements faltering as if confused. Then, as though an unseen thread had been severed, they crumbled. One by one, the creatures fell, their forms dissolving into ash that was carried away by the wind.
Jace fell to his knees, his chest heaving as the adrenaline began to fade. Around him, his friends stood bloodied and battered, but alive. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors.
The lull in the battle was fleeting, a cruel deception. From the horizon came another surge, the ground trembling beneath the weight of countless undead. Their grotesque forms spilled across the battlefield like a flood of nightmares, their snarls and shrieks drowning out all other sound. Jace¡¯s stomach turned as he spotted it¡ªa distant cloud of darkness, swirling unnaturally against the backdrop of the gray sky. The pressure in the air shifted, heavy and suffocating. He knew without question: the Dark One was coming.
¡°We¡¯re losing ground!¡± Marcus shouted, his voice strained as he slammed his shield against the talons of a monstrous claw. The line wavered, the knights¡¯ once-unyielding wall of steel and resolve now buckling under the relentless assault. For every beast they felled, three more took its place. Their strength, already drained from the earlier battle, was faltering.
Behind them, the royalty and nobility who had so boldly declared their support now vanished into the shadows, retreating to the safety of hidden chambers. Jace caught glimpses of their panicked faces, heard the hurried whispers of lords and ladies murmuring of their own people, their own kingdoms. One by one, they abandoned the field, leaving the warriors to fend for themselves.
Dex, his axe dripping with black ichor, snarled in fury as he drove his weapon into another advancing beast. ¡°Cowards!¡± he spat, his voice raw with rage. ¡°They¡¯re leaving us to die.¡±
Jace didn¡¯t reply. His focus was singular, his blade slicing through the neck of a clawed creature that lunged for him. But no matter how many fell to his strikes, it wasn¡¯t enough. The horde pressed in from all sides, a suffocating tide of teeth and claws.Stolen story; please report.
And then it came.
A towering beast broke through the front lines, its skeletal frame wreathed in dark, flickering flames. It let out a roar that shook the battlefield, its voice a guttural symphony of anguish and rage. The sound reverberated through Jace¡¯s chest, stealing his breath. He gritted his teeth, his legs locking in place as the creature charged. Its immense form loomed over him, the air thickening with its presence. This¡ this was too much.
Just as the skeletal behemoth raised its massive claws to strike, a blur of motion cut through the chaos. Brutus. The hulking warrior charged into the fray, his immense bulk colliding with the beast like a battering ram. His sword glowed faintly, its light cutting through the encroaching darkness as though defying it. With a thunderous roar of his own, Brutus swung his blade in a wide arc, the edge slicing clean through the monster¡¯s flaming ribs. The skeletal creature let out one last, ear-piercing wail before it collapsed, the dark flames snuffed out in an instant.
¡°Get up!¡± Brutus bellowed, his deep voice a rallying cry that cut through the despair. He turned, his blade cleaving another undead in two with a single, powerful strike. ¡°We¡¯re not done yet!¡±
Jace felt a surge of hope as Brutus carved a path through the horde, his presence reinvigorating the faltering line. The knights and warriors around him rallied, their shouts rising above the chaos as they pushed back against the tide. But the battle was far from over. The undead kept coming, an inexhaustible force driven by an unrelenting will.
¡°We can¡¯t hold this!¡± Alice¡¯s voice reached him, sharp and urgent. She stood a few feet away, her hands trembling as she loosed another spell. The blast of light struck an advancing creature, but her magic was faltering, her strength nearly spent. ¡°Jace, we need to move! We can¡¯t keep this up forever.¡±
Jace nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. The Tower loomed ahead, its swirling mosaic of names glowing faintly against the darkened sky. People were already retreating toward it, their forms darting through the battlefield as they fled the chaos. He hesitated for only a moment, his gaze flicking back to the horde. Was this retreat, or survival? Did it matter anymore?
The battlefield was a cacophony of chaos and despair. Screams of the wounded mingled with the guttural roars of the beasts, their blackened forms surging forward in a relentless tide. The ground beneath Brutus¡¯s feet was slick with blood, turning every step into a calculated risk. The air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and the copper tang of death.
¡°I told you this was a bad idea!¡± Brutus bellowed, his voice cutting through the din like a war horn. His armor, once gleaming, was streaked with ichor and ash, its sigils barely visible beneath the grime of battle. He swung his blade in a broad arc, the glowing edge cleaving through three of the beasts at once. ¡°But no one listens to the big guy!¡±
A blur of motion beside him announced Dranice¡¯s arrival, his twin swords a dance of silver and fire. The arcs of his strikes left ghostly trails of arcane energy in their wake, illuminating his hardened features. ¡°Save the speeches for later, Brutus,¡± he growled, spinning to block a clawed strike aimed at his back. ¡°Unless you¡¯ve got a monologue that can kill these things.¡±
Brutus grunted, stepping into the attack to drive his shield into the creature¡¯s gaping maw. The beast crumpled, but three more took its place. ¡°I¡¯ll write one later,¡± he muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. ¡°Assuming there¡¯s a later.¡±
The line was breaking. Brutus could see it in the frantic movements of the defenders, in the desperation etched into every face. Most of the students had already fled toward the Tower¡¯s looming gates, but too many still lingered, paralyzed by fear or caught in the clutches of the enemy.
Dranice pivoted, his gaze flicking toward the crumbling line. ¡°They¡¯re not going to make it at this rate,¡± he said, his tone grim. His swords flashed again, severing the claw of a beast mid-swing. ¡°We¡¯re running out of time.¡±
Brutus nodded, planting his feet as he unleashed a roar that silenced even the beasts for a fleeting moment. ¡°Listen up!¡± he bellowed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. ¡°The Tower is your only chance! If you¡¯re still out here when this line falls, you¡¯re dead! Move!¡±
The students hesitated, their terror gluing their feet to the blood-soaked ground. Brutus stepped forward, his massive frame radiating authority. ¡°Do you think the gods are coming to save you?¡± he shouted, his voice heavy with anger and truth. ¡°They¡¯re gone! It¡¯s up to us now! Get to the Tower, or you¡¯re nothing but a meal for these bastards!¡±
A ripple of movement spread through the crowd, slow at first, then gaining momentum as the students broke into a desperate sprint toward the Tower. Brutus caught sight of Jace among them, his blade slick with black ichor, his face pale but resolute. The boy hesitated at the edge of the retreat, his gaze darting back toward Brutus and Dranice.
¡°What are you waiting for?¡± Brutus growled, locking eyes with him. ¡°Go! We¡¯ll hold the line!¡±
Jace¡¯s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his sword. ¡°And what happens to you?¡± he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.
Dranice stepped in, clapping a bloodied hand on Jace¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°But if you stay out here, you¡¯re just another body we¡¯ll have to bury. Don¡¯t waste this.¡±
Jace nodded, turning to join the retreating crowd. Brutus watched him go, his chest tightening with a strange mix of relief and sorrow. ¡°Good kid,¡± he muttered, hefting his sword as the beasts closed in again.
The defenders closed ranks around Brutus and Dranice, their faces grim but determined. ¡°Hold the line!¡± Brutus roared, raising his blade high. The swirling runes along its length flared to life, casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. ¡°Get to the Tower!¡±
The beasts surged forward, a black wave crashing against the shield wall. Brutus met them head-on, his blade singing as it carved through flesh and bone. Beside him, Dranice was a whirlwind of steel, his strikes precise and devastating.
Above them, the Tower loomed, its shifting mosaic of names glowing brighter with each student that crossed its threshold. The gates shimmered with magic, sealing shut as the last of the retreating students disappeared inside. The beasts seemed to sense their prey slipping away, their howls rising in a deafening crescendo.
Brutus didn¡¯t look back. His world was the battlefield, the clash of steel, the cries of the dying. He fought with everything he had, every ounce of strength and rage. And when the end came, he faced it with a grim smile, his blade still burning in defiance.
The group moved, each step a battle against the tide of darkness. Brutus fell back with them, his blade swinging in wide arcs to clear a path. Dex fought shoulder-to-shoulder with him, his movements fueled by sheer determination. Alice stayed close to Jace, her magic flickering in weak bursts to ward off the creatures that drew too near. Marcus and Molly brought up the rear, their shields raised as they covered the retreating line.
The air grew heavier with every step, the stench of death mingling with the metallic tang of blood. The roar of the undead was deafening, their relentless advance a constant pressure at their backs. Jace¡¯s muscles burned, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep moving. The Tower was so close, but it felt impossibly far.
Then, the darkness shifted. From the distant cloud came a pulse, a wave of pure malevolence that rippled across the battlefield. The undead surged in response, their movements frenzied, their shrieks rising to a fever pitch. Jace stumbled under the weight of the pressure, his knees nearly buckling.
¡°We¡¯re almost there!¡± Alice urged, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. Her voice was thin, strained, but it carried the faintest thread of hope.
The group broke through the final cluster of enemies, their path clear to the base of the Tower. People were flooding inside, their names etched into its glowing surface as they passed. Jace hesitated, his eyes fixed on the swirling mosaic. The names shifted endlessly, a living record of those who sought refuge within its walls.
¡°Jace, come on!¡± Ell shouted from the entrance, her daggers dripping with black ichor. ¡°We don¡¯t have time!¡±
He tore his gaze from the Tower and pushed forward, his friends flanking him as they ascended the steps. The moment they crossed the threshold, the noise of the battlefield dulled, replaced by an eerie, oppressive silence. The air inside was thick, humming with energy that prickled against his skin.
Jace turned back to the entrance, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Outside, the battle raged on, the undead swarming like locusts. The distant cloud of darkness loomed ever closer, its presence a promise of greater horrors yet to come.
Jace spared one last glance at the battlefield. The knights continued to fight, their line breaking but unyielding. Brutus stood like a colossus, his blade cutting down enemies with relentless precision. The sight filled Jace with a bittersweet mix of hope and despair.
In the distance, Jace caught sight of a small figure darting toward them. It was barely taller than his waist, its chestnut hair a tangled mop that bounced wildly with each frantic step. Green skin glistened faintly in the dim light, and its stubby arms waved furiously, as if trying to part the very air. Clutched tightly in its hands was an object that glimmered with faint light, though Jace couldn¡¯t quite make out what it was. There was something familiar about it but Jace couldn¡¯t put his finger on it.
¡°Inside,¡± Alice urged, pulling him toward the entrance. ¡°We can regroup once we¡¯re in.¡±
With a final push, they stepped through the threshold, the chaos of the battlefield fading as the Tower¡¯s cold, shimmering light enveloped them.