Reaching a barely explored floor, Luke witnessed Sooty diving into its depths. Red velveted carpet dominated the floor. Yellow trim lined the black stone walls. A metal vault inlaid the far wall.
Tapping on a foot, Annika was in the midst of directing the previous maid to deposit Luke’s former loot. Luke swept a gaze across the floor while making headway toward Annika, the maid, and Cedric, who remained on Annika’s back.
Compared to most other floors, this one was relatively minimally furnished, Luke supposed the actual ‘decorations’ were the riches accumulated for generations within the vault Annika had opened up. Whirling around the Reaver, Annika said, “Couldn’t wait to see your favorite teacher again, could you? I knew my heart felt feelings would win out, now where is that syringe when you need it…”
Keeping off Annika’s pace, Luke ignored her words, “With some help, I came up with what I wanted to craft. Any of the enchanters can make a tome. I want to make Whispering Edge the ‘core’ of that tome. It’s possible; I know it is.”
Annika settled into a sultry smile, “Oh, I’ve found a fellow researcher romantic. It’s more than possible, we have the materials you’d need right here in this vault.” She raised up a finger, “But, you haven’t contributed enough to take them. What will you do, Lukey?”
“An exception for the upcoming Tide can’t be made?”
“It cannot,” Annika stated with uncharacteristic firmness, planting both legs out widely, jutting a chin up, and crossing her arms.
Luke sent an intent over to Sooty through their bond, the black bird dropped the Undead Mana Crystal, remaining crafting materials, and the Helenic Mace, a rare quality healing weapon, onto the floor. Sighing within, the Red and White spear drop from Nelth, still unidentified, stabbed into the floor.
“That enough? Anything else and I’ll have to start stripping my armor off.”
Eyes flashing, Annika zipped up to the spear at a speed Luke could barely perceive. She grasped and spun it around her arm before allowing it to settle in her opposite palm.
“Now where did you get this? An exceptional quality spear. Requires level 70, tier 2 to use. Over four extra effects on it, enchanted by a grandmaster to boot?” Annika felt out the spear’s shaft with a flat palm, “There is it, ‘Wind Knight Nelth.’” Rather than continue to inquisitively investigate Luke, Annika clapped excitedly, “Aruna might want this, and I’ll definitely have to study these enchanting patterns!”
Right, despite her personality, this woman is a true Defier. I should stop being surprised at displays of ability.
Knowing this may bridge the gap, Luke asked, “That should cover the rest of what I owe. Give me what it takes to create Whispering Edge into a grimoire, one that will grow alongside me, as Xera does.”
Called out, the Sword-Wand rattled in excitement, yet remained silent otherwise.
Bedazzled by the idea Anna hopped into the vault, Luke could hear her words from outside, as the maid swept away all of Luke’s previously free valuables into the Defier’s storage. The Rune Warden Defier yelled out, “You’ll only get one chance at this, student. Mess it up, and all the materials, including that black sword of yours, will shatter on the spot. No need to worry, your beautiful teacher will help you this time! Out of the goodness in her heart, but you’ll owe me big time.” Annika poked out her head towards the end flashing a wink, before delving back into the vault.
Pacing between two corners of the room, Luke ruminated to his three party members, “Is it possible to do it? Polar South made it seem like it was. Am I crazy?”
“Crazy wouldn’t cover the half of it, Defier boy. But if you’re that attached to the black blade, this may be the way for its ‘spirit’ to remain alongside you until you keel over the bucket. A weapon that grows with you is a headache to make.” Wayfinder said.
“Does this mean the silent one won’t be a sword anymore? Why do I feel disappointed, who will be my rival in slaughter then?”
“If the lad succeeds, the black blade will be your eternal rival. Only it’s going to be in a different form. Have heart, sword-wand lass. Sides’ me glorious casing is something you can’t hope to hold a bleeding candle to.”
Putting a hand over Xera’s crystal, Luke short-stopped the impending argument, “It doesn’t matter if one is better or not. The challenges ahead will be impossible without you both.”
Those soothing words quelled the fire burning in Xera, and Luke could feel a twinge of guilt coming from Wayfinder afterward. The Reaver brushed a hand over Sooty, “And that includes you too, my bloodthirsty bird.”
Sooty rattled and cooed in delight, taking pride in the new moniker. After the short burst of energy, she settled back onto Luke’s shoulder in a bird-like fashion and went to sleep.
The maid had finished sorting away all that Luke had offloaded in return for the materials Annika would fetch for him. The Rune Warden Defier strutted out the vault, shutting it behind her once the maid stepped out. Mana weaves etched out the metal, and larger wards covered every inch of the surrounding walls. The seal locked into place, the Defier’s mark carved into its middle.
Within Anna’s arms rested a blank tome, two crystals, and a vial filled with an unknown liquid. Catching where Luke’s gaze lay, the scholar professional clutched the items, “You daring man, looking at your teacher’s chest like that.”
Rolling his eyes, Luke turned around and went back up toward the enchanter’s room. “See you at the Rune Forge, ‘teacher’.”
Swaying her hips as she walked after Luke’s retreat, Annika scoffed to Cedric, her artifact, “See Cedric, they’re all helpless before my charm. This new student of mine is lucky I go easy on him.”
Concealing any other emotion, Cedric replied, “It is as you say, Madam Annika.”
“You’re the best partner, Cedric!”
____________________________________________________________
Breathing in stale air, Luke tried to enter a trance of focus around the enchanting forge in front of him. The faint steps of a guardian golem followed the cloth path across the area, creating rhythmic noise. A crystal orb revolved slowly in the black metal frame over the forge. A pure smell from burning candles and channeling resources pervaded this half of the room.
Shelves were to the right side, as a sort of separator to the rest of the room. Other than the incoming Annika, he was the only human presence with this set of walls. Taking time to review the basis of knowledge gained through effort and crammed into him by the profession book, Luke laid Whispering Edge over the forge lightly tracing the path he’d inlaid the crucial fusion rune to this risky project. The man enjoyed the feeling of essence crackling at his fingertips, ready to Etch Runes.
“Only one shot, but I’ll take it. I’d never passed those three paths way back when without you, Whispering Edge. You were my first weapon, and including Xera, I won’t take another.”
The blade, a normal weapon, remained shock still. Reminding Luke more of what was expected. In a way, Xera and Wayfinder had warped his sense of relationships to gear or loot.
Managing to vanish her presence, Annika pressed an index finger onto Luke’s neck, precisely where Authroia had placed her mark on him, back at the golden grave.
“I’ve been wondering where you got this, a golden mark? Which lady kissed you there first!?”
For once, Annika isn’t so far off.
“A special quest in the Spectral Wing. I helped a golden ghost named Authoria out.”
Leaning forward with both hands behind her, Annika nodded to the side, “Authoria was it? Jovan helped that gold ghost way back when he was a little Tier one. I suppose if she’s already dead, I don’t have anything to worry about. That first lady of Sylen sure pokes her nose where it’s not wanted.”
Spinning out with Cedric displayed in full, Annika flung the retrieved materials onto the Rune Forge. The items settled before Luke, a blank tome, a vial with dark purple liquid, a jumbled mess of crystals, dust, and floating congealed essence. Recalling the implanted insight from Polar South, Luke began a mental checklist. By the end, he failed to stifle a laugh.
Annika had to be some kind of talented genius, without any instruction from him, she duplicated exactly what Polar South showed him. Placing the materials in a pentagram formation on the Arcane Forge, five circles surrounded Whispering Edge, laid atop the blank tome. Dust in one circle, crystals in the second, essences in the third, gems in the fourth, and withered herbs in the last. With that set, Annika pulled the topper from the vial, handing the now free container to Luke, “Pour this fusion agent, connecting the five materials to the center.”
Drizzling the liquid across the materials, Luke had each line intersect at the middle of the blank tome. Bits of the substance connected the tome with Whispering Edge. A low black light shimmered from the sword, slowly absorbed by the spell book.
The Reaver flicked Xera out, forming her into a wand. Essence Bond superimposed onto the wand, and the enhanced essence control showed its effects immediately. Strain from flowing the five piles into the two slowly merging items lowered, and a thicker mass of essence poured into the lightly pulsing infinity symbol rune.
Annika put a hand onto Luke’s wand wielding arm, “Let me guide your control. A few adjustments, and you’ll be perfect for what this feat will require.” In the midst, Annika pulled out a sigil stone, and spoke into it, “Tanniv. It’s time.” The Runewarden deposited the stone back into her spatial bag once the short message was passed on.
Items from the five piles crept toward Whispering Edge and the blank tome beneath it, transferred by the purple potion solution. Entering a trance, Luke flowed his essence to pattern after Annika’s mana demonstrations. The first Rune shone a brilliant white before cooling to a yellow undertone, completed and now assisting the coming creation.
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More time must’ve passed than what Luke thought, as a Monic man with blue glowing etchings to his cheeks burst through the entryway, his yellow widened coat ruffled from excess movement. The man had a purple crystal wand holstered to his left side, but otherwise no sign of weaponry. White long hair bunched into a ponytail that stopped midway behind his back.
Sooty’s eyes shot open, guarded at the man. She cawed powerfully, and flapped her wings before settling back down on Luke’s shoulder, training one eye on the man. Feeling the crow’s unease, Luke slipped up on the next Rune, appearing to be an upside down ‘V’, Annika stabilized the mistake before the Rune could unravel completely.
“Keep your focus on this task. That’s Tanniv, a mana weave type enchanter, a fanatical arcane mage, master of all things master, and your little special helper. He may have had a ‘spat’ with your little birdie at Iona’s request.”
Luke’s eyebrows shot up, “He wha-”
Settling into an amused smile, Annika put a finger to Luke’s mouth, “You are being a very disobedient student. That’s twice within a minute your favorite teacher Annika has had to save your attempt.”
Getting the message, the Reaver returned his full efforts to the task, intricately weaving Essence into the second rune. The purple liquid rotated at a faster pace, transfusing minute amounts of herbs, crystals, powders, and otherwise.
Walking briskly to the work area, Tanniv flashed a displeased gaze at Annika, “The pet needed the first favor, and now the master needs the second. You two are intent on interrupting my mana research.”
Winking at Tanniv, Annika stuck out her tongue momentarily, “Last time you couldn’t stop gushing about all the mana applications you weaved in Lukey’s mask. Keep the outer shell stable and ambient mana from interfering in our little crafting attempt here.” Annika finished off the request by blowing a kiss.
Tanniv turned his face away in annoyance but spread out both palms. Mana began to shimmer out the monic’s body. Luke felt as if the task before him dropped in difficulty yet again. “The next time there’s a request to help this one, I will decline. We all have business before the Tides, scholar.”
“Always so grouchy, can’t you lighten up like Eldacar? He’s always in a good mood.”
“That sex-crazed man? A wonder he ever gets anything done with all the women he chases.”
“You’d think he’d stop after girl number seven.” Annika began, before cutting the gossip, taking on a slight frown, “I’d say you didn’t like our baby brother here if I didn’t know any better.”
“He’ll get my respect when he earns it, and not any earlier. Now stop speaking to me, I must concentrate to manage the mana and dominate the outer shell to match his will.”
Falling deeper into the flow like state, Luke lost most of his sense of hearing. The buzz of noise never stopped from Annika, yet none of it entered his ears. Occasionally, the glow of power from Essence Bond would flicker out from Xera; Luke would barely maintain the product in those seconds between the cooldown and his next cast of the ability back onto Xera.
Tanniv placed a notable amount of attention on Xera, subtly comparing it with his own wand. Luke was under too much of a burden to think further about it. When the second Rune filled completely, the air began to shake. A white chain materialized. Luke’s very bloodline felt disgusted at the mystery chain.
Annika paled, and Tanniv had blood seep from his lips. Annika shouted something, but Luke was caught within the flow, an enormous amount of icy essence enveloped his eyes. Annika released her hold on Luke the instant the temperature dropped below freezing, showing signs of uncertainty as she watched him continue to struggle.
A dual line of blood streamed down Luke’s face, one from each eye. Without thought, Luke lowly commanded Wayfinder, “Polar South.”
Refreshed by the free flowing insight, Luke’s skill increased dramatically, fighting against the white chain’s attempt at destroying Whispering Edge and the tome. He overheard Tanniv mutter in disbelief, “This is beyond what he should be capable of. Annika just what is his second artifact…”
The third, and final rune began to be Etched onto the blank tome, appearing close to a wave-esque symbol. Taken by the affront, the shimmering White chain began to release and relish disgusting holy power, encroaching over Luke’s black blade, Whispering Edge.
Alarmed, Annika switched Cedric out to the open, and a circle of runes created a protective barrier around the youngest Defier and his fragile creation. The surmounting holy power thrashed and redoubled, a hymn dominated all sound.
Whispers similar to a crone, yet mixed with an angelic undertone pierced into Luke’s ears.
“Defiler of the accord, cease the theft toward the spirit’s fragment. An ancient law of creation is being threatened, your soul at stake. It is you who must stop what he seeks to take. Your will is fake; struggle further, and you risk your body to break.”
Images of angels interfered with Luke’s consciousness, yet Polar South’s property of shoring up mental defense helped resist the interference.
Raising his voice, Tanniv shot an astonished ask toward Annika, “You mad scholar what are you attempting now? What is this boy a vessel for?”
Anxiety flickered in Annika’s eyes, “This wasn’t my intention, I followed the scholar’s wit, and the path he’s following took a turn even I didn’t calculate.” Annika sighed, “The capabilities of the numbered compass is incalculable.”
Noticing the third Rune flickering like a candle ready to die, Luke felt like his brain threatened to become mush. He felt chained like something was preventing the Reaver from…from…
Rising.
Connecting action faster than thought, Luke commanded again, “Rising West.”
A foul screech pervaded the air, and black smoke arose around the Reaver. The coil around all morals loosened slightly around the unfortunate man. New possibilities entered into his control over Etching and Reaver abilities. The third rune reforged itself, shining akin to a rainbow.
Rampant thunder stormed around the Defier’s guild, with miniature white vortexes forming in a semi-circle opposite Luke. Each attempting to suck away his essence and unravel the craft once and for all.
Out of concern for his wellbeing, Annika tried to stop Luke from continuing, “Stop the feat, Luke, you’re on the verge of collapse.” The Rune Warden flinched when splotches of blood streamed from Luke’s hand. Annika reflexively attached a regeneration rune from her abilities onto the Reaver’s body, slowing the damage.
Allowing the blood to continue to seep from his eyes, the sinful substance merged with the product trying to resist the world’s laws. The Reaver poured more Essence into the fusion Rune, not allowing the attempt to fall apart. Xera’s wand tip became pure black sucking more Essence than either could handle. With Luke’s limits partially lifted by Rising West, both were teetering out of control.
He shut an eye toward Annika, “Do you even remember what I am? What I represent? What the legacy of greed means? Didn’t Iona tell me I’ve got to learn these skills to find the path to him?”
Annika faltered, “I know it can be painful to lose someone or something close to you, but—“
Channeling more Essence, the Spectral Heart thrummed inside Luke, “Looks like you still don’t understand. My entire being and strength are stolen from others. I am the sin of greed, why wouldn’t I try to steal back against this ‘world’? Laws are higher rules, not impassable walls. Xera, more.”
With struggle streaming from her crystal, Xera managed a “Leave it to me.” A black essence stream finished the final Etching. Yet the white chain multiplied denying salvation.
Taking Luke’s ramblings as denial, Annika moved to interrupt Luke, afraid of further damage done to him. Sooty swooped off the Reaver’s shoulder, batting back the other Defier. The bird spread her wings and allowed a powerful caw to escape.
Preventing Annika from trying more drastic measures Cedric spoke to his master, “My lady, each of your kind must undergo great risks to gain the power fit for a Defier. Why interfere with your kin? The most cautious Tanniv has yet to give up himself.”
Annika ran her fingers through her soft brown hair. Tanniv seemed to be running on autopilot, his eyes pulsing with an absurd amount of mana, such that Annika could barely make out his face. Her attention turned to Luke, who had become a black miasma and red soaked shell. Fearing no return, the Rune Warden sought to change Cedric’s decision, “Cedric, don’t tell me you’ve become more insane than me? That’s a World Law preventing the feat from being completed—“
“An effect present in any item that has the potential to surpass the limits of Epic. My creator told me he suffered the same from making me. In the hopes another item similar to my kind is made, please allow your most loyal servant’s selfishness this once.”
Clutching at her hair, Annika slowly backed away into the wall, sliding down, watching in awe. She subconsciously waved Cedric in staff form, and a twister of Runes attempted to battle against the chains for Luke.
“The student turns out to be crazier than the master.” Annika’s features took on a grin.
Wayfinder rose into the air, the influence from Rising West resisting the World Law. Red blood dripped next to rapidly forming icy mist around Luke. Sooty cooed in worry, and Xera danced with Luke’s flowing hand movements to compose the building Essence, as if it were a symphony of music.
The sword-wand yelled in a craze, “I can feel it, master. A new brother is being born. Having someone insane just like me is the best! The whispers finally receded for once.”
Lost in the trance between Polar South and Rising West, Luke continued to force the enchanting and fusion runes to remain intact. The tome merged closer with Whispering Edge, the blade slowly sliding within, bubbling liquid from the vial had nearly all evaporated, leaving the five circles in the pentagram barren of any material.
Finally, a crack appeared on the white chain wrapping around the tome and Whispering Edge. The Reaver’s actions overtook rational thought, Infusion wrapped around his hand, icy essence mixed into the first half of the ability. He began to try and steal the power within the chain itself, burning flesh as five digits wrapped onto the manifestation of worldly power.
“I am the one who steals to survive. Whatever ‘law’ won’t take my first blade from me. How could I still dare to call myself a Reaver? Does a sin give up so easily? The first must’ve gone through much more.” True madness defined the Reaver’s face.
Flowing insight from Polar South had begun to slow, running against time. Luke formed an Essence Lance and allowed it to shatter into him. The rush of Essence beyond his capability was streamed without an iota of waste—all into the item before him. The next form of Whispering Edge.
Shuttering from blood vessel damage, Luke’s right eye ceased to show vision. The Reaver closed it, the blurry vision from the left barely kept. The burn from the chain became too much for Luke’s left hand as it dropped uselessly to the side. Hurriedly, the madman formed an ice gauntlet over the remaining right hand. Steam blasted back his hair with a hymn danced from the chain. The Spectral Heart beat furiously to its first true challenge ever since its inception within Luke.
Trying to combat the oppressive aura of the World’s Will, Luke called Frostfall Reave to the front, ice encased around the radiating heat, and finally, the two items formed into one. The white chain steamed in agonizing cold, becoming brittle. A compressed ice world pulsated into an increasingly dense form, accelerating the merger, a faint whisper broke the ice.
Closing the other eye, Luke weakly smiled, “Announce your presence to the world, my creation.”
Black as night, carved in silver Runic language and emblazoned by a black blade to its front, a tome rose in the air of its own will. A cacophony of whispers spread across the Defier’s branch as the divine white chain shattered. An enraged screech broke out in a final uproar before all became serene. Tanniv lost balance, sweat streaming down the mage’s face between gasps as he planted to the floor hunched over.
Out of the competing sounds, Luke discerned them all trying to merge to form a thought, a word, one such struggle reached his ear. Rather than a word, it would be best to call it a feeling.
Silence.
From success fueling his growing greed, Luke reached out with the Interface, and a silver inlaid window imprinted itself onto his mind’s eye before all went to black.
[Whispering Tome]
Quality: Quasi-Artifact
Level: 25
Stats: +50 Magic Damage
Active - Silent Domain: Summons a silencing and slowing domain in target area for three seconds. All enemies who enter the forty-yard radius will become silenced, unable to cast, and slowed by 60% for six seconds. The first three affected targets will be fear stricken for two seconds. Targets who leave the area will still retain the silencing and slowing effect for full duration. (2 Minute Cooldown)
Passive - Growth: Whispering Tome will slowly feed off the wielder’s excess resource generation out of combat. Over time, Whispering Tome will match the wielder’s tier and level, strengthening each time it grows. Whispering Tome has the barest of sentience.
Passive - Ethereal: Spells and movements done by the wielder are completely silent, may be turned off at will.
Passive - Two Faced: Whispering Tome’s appearance and effects will change if affected by the wielder’s illusions. Unable to be inspected by anyone but who Whispering Tome is Soul Bound to.
Passive - Silent Greed (0/3): May consume one Tome of any quality to steal an effect of Whispering Tome’s choice from it. One charge allowed to be used per tier. Sealed until tier 2.
Requirement: Level 25, Tier 1, Mana or Essence Based Class
Soul Bound to Luke.
The quiet will of a black blade stirs within the tome, giving rise to animal like sentience. An apostle attempted to prevent its coming.
“Welcome back from the brink, partner. I’ll need you in this hell.”