The thing about catastrophe is that it’s very rarely a sudden occurrence, the ripples go back further than you’d think. The ebb and flow of fate, the felspark of chaos, these are constants. Ever present strands in the grand tapestry of reality.
Yet somewhere along the line, the mortal races of these lands seemed to forget. After an era of relative peace and prosperity, they stopped looking for threats. They stopped striving for power.
How foolish.
Mere leagues away from one such civilization, in an otherwise uniformly desolate and craggy landscape, manifested something beyond reckoning. From above it appeared to be a wide pit that simply fell away into the depths of the earth. The sloped walls of bedrock riddled with archaic etchings of unnatural origin. From the flow of ambient energies, one gifted in the mystical arts could easily ascertain its function.
Our greatest creation.
A siphon of grand proportions, gathering enough magical energy that it could power every enchantment in every mortal city the world over. Only, this formation sent it down into the depths. Even among these less vigilant lands, it did not go unnoticed forever.
Our hand has been revealed too soon, they know of the hive. They will find the core.
No, they have merely seen the siphon and the upper tunnels. They are ignorant and tread slowly, idly wondering at its origin.
The siphon was necessary. Let them look. Let them study their end. None shall make it to the core before it is too late.
Many miles below the pit, the twisted tunnels fell away into a cavernous opening filled with faint twinkling lights. Thousands of strange and magnificent gems were rooted to pedestals of stone that were covered in arcane glyphs, each pulsing with an inner glow in concert with the rest.
For the will of the hive.
A ripple of light spread out from the center in consensus with that notion, where nine of these gems hovered above the rest in alternating geometric formations.
It is time, prepare to awaken our newest aspect. Concentrate on control.
It is but an individual core, it will not resist the will of the hive.
We do not know its nature yet.
A long and jagged shard of midnight was lifted up from the ground where it had lain inert, and now hovered amidst the nine. Gradually it began gyrating in sync with the others, and a minuscule wisp of white light began emanating from within. Before long more tiny wisps joined it, varying in color and brightness. Faster and faster it spun, with dozens of twinkling lights manifesting under its pitch surface.
Something is wrong, it is slipping away from us!
How, when It sits within the locus of our control?
The rotations of the nine picked up speed, the entire cavern pulsed with light like the frantic beat of a heart.
Far above, near the gaping maw of the siphon and throughout its many tunnels, the winds wailed and thrashed with abandon. For the first time since its creation, the formation was being drained for all it could gather and more. Every living thing in its proximity, man or beast, found themselves rapidly weakening as their mana was being ripped from their very being. Many would fall, many would be irreparably crippled to never again connect with the arcane, and still it would not be enough.
The midnight shard suddenly stilled, its surface a star filled sky brimming with inner light blindingly outshining the nine. Only for a moment. As quickly as the light flared, it dimmed leaving behind… nothing. It had vanished entirely.
By what power…
In moments the nine at the core of it all slowed to a sedate pace as the cavernous space darkened considerably.
We must recuperate and reconsider our plans. The nature of this lost core shall be known to us in time.
For the will of the hive.
----------------------------------------
The cold grip was the first thing it remembered, suspending it within that dark place. Then there were lights moving in ethereal patterns, grasping at the edges of its mind. The pressure was immense, deteriorating thought and giving way to agony.
[ Initializing core integration… ]
[ Error: Conflict of domains. ]
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
[ Seeding alternate core starting location… ]
[ ALERT: You are being contested for domain control. As the defender you must outlast or overcome the contest of wills to retain control... ]
Previously foreign words and concepts tested its innate knowledge but it hardly had time to comprehend. Awareness began slipping, and it panicked for awareness was all it had.
It rapidly retreated within itself, relieving some pressure, but within were more wisps of light. It was wary at first, could they be like the ones outside, the lights who sought to consume? No, they were different, they felt different. The pressure from outside returned, it would not abate so easily.
The nearest light within was warm and verdant, but most importantly it felt somewhat distant. In fact, every wisp of inner light felt like they were leagues away. Some more than others by far. Intuitively it understood that more energy than it contained within would be required to traverse this inner void. Energy only obtained from the outside. It was a risk, but it couldn’t withstand the pressure much longer. With one immense pulse of willpower, a fraction of the flow of energy outside was diverted within.
Immediately the pressure lessened as it shot through the inner void, reaching out to the nearest light. The flow of arcane energies from outside quickly became a flood beyond reckoning. Light subsumed the void, and in a flash all it felt was a gentle warmth as it plunged into the verdant wisp and into the beyond.
[ You have successfully overcome a domain contest at level 1! Calculating performance based rewards… ]
[ Title gained: Aberrant. You have overcome a vastly superior will attempting to subjugate your domain. As a consequence, the methods of influencing your domain have grown manifold. ( Future domain-based evolutions and skill selections will display higher tier alternatives ). ]
[ Cache gained: Silver Rank (unattuned) ]
[ ALERT: Establish a new domain anchor to access your status... ]
----------------------------------------
Far to the southeast an old farmer sat atop a rickety wagon full of produce as his old mare plodded along the road. The relative temperance of the region meant even in the winter months ol’ John could make a relaxed trip to the city unimpeded by the environmental terrors of the colder climates.
“An ave a bunch’a snow blockin every which path? Feh, I’d have a word wit one a them Divines before that starts happenin down ‘ere. Ain’t that right Sherly?” He grumbled to his horse, who softly nickered at the mention of her name.
A considerably colder burst of wind shook the cart for a brief instant, and what looked to be a large shard of faintly glowing obsidian now lay atop the root vegetables; though, that much went unnoticed by the man steering.
“Y’know Sherly, I’ve always said that tha will of them Divines is beyond reproach and who are we ta question nature?” he said with full sincerity as he continued their previous pace.
The flick of her ears and tone of her whinny were practically an eyeroll, but they trudged on. Neither particularly willing to question any higher powers at this moment, lest they really jinx themselves.
----------------------------------------
A good few hours later the gates of Strahaim came into view down the dusty track. The outer wall was low, but wrapped around the whole of the small city, giving the people more than adequate protection from the rare beast that strayed out from the untamed lands.
The gate seemed busier than usual and ol’ John was feeling positive about his chances of selling off his harvest within a day at most. He wasn’t really about running the business side of things, so the sooner he could offload the sooner he could nab an ale and a cot for the night before heading back home.
As he came into earshot of the line outside the gate he overheard some rumblings of trouble out in the world. Finally it was his turn to trod on in when the guards called for him to full stop.
“Whereabouts you coming from with all this?” A gruff man of middling age barked at him.
“I'm a local ya’ twat, right on over past the south hills. I sell me spare goods ‘ere as well as fix up some tools every four months or so.” Ol’ Jon grumbled as he righted his grip on the reins. “Not that it matters, leastways you’re concerned.”
“Oi, what’s this back here then?” Some young man in leather armor called out upon walking behind the cart.
“A right load of roots and figs I’d imagine, you knobhead” John muttered the last part under his breath. Seriously, did he look 30 years younger and right gullible? What did these new guards take him for, some schlub to be scammed out of a few pennies for a made up violation?
“What’s back there?” The older guard asked authoritatively, despite walking over to check himself either way.
“A uh- a rock of some kind, sir” The younger guard in all leather lowered his voice.
A rock, oh come on!
“There some sort of pebble and dirt tax now?” John drawled from his bench, simply hurrying along this absurd scam.
“You call this a pebble?” The older guard asked.
“I’d call it anythin’ ya want dammit if we can all move this along-“ John said as he turned to see the pitch black shard of who knows what atop his turnips. “W-What in the blind divine is that?” He stammered.
“That’s what we’re asking you, ya old bloodshite!” The older guard barked “Alright off to the side with you, we may need to have a nice long talk about picking things up along the road ya probably shouldn’t…”
Ol’John just sighed and pulled off the road, meanwhile cursing himself for ever questioning the divines.
----------------------------------------
“Ma’am, Roji from the adventurer’s guild is requesting approval for the next batch of guildees being sent over to the depths.” The thin clerk said as he passed along the requisite forms atop her desk.
Well, it wasn’t really her desk but when one is suddenly left in charge during a crisis involving this much paperwork? The largest desk available gets shamelessly commandeered, of course.
“Mr.Safina, and any other preordained guild leader for that matter, does not need to confirm the use of their own resources with me. I thought that was clear.” She muttered while skimming various requisitions that required the attention of senior magi, of which she was the last around at the moment.
“Ah yes, apologies. Specifically he asked to be escorted by a court of city magi, and under your current purview...” the clerk trailed off.
“I see, I can’t authorize that until Magus Raicaird returns. Protocol dictates that we not weaken our position in the city by too great a margin, we simply don’t have enough magi around with the current expedition yet to return.” She sighed with no small hint of resignation. Those bastards would love to bleed the city magi dry of all they had, and in truth it was getting closer to that point every passing day.
“That is unfortunate, but I’ll make sure the other guilds get word about the mage deficit. That should get them off your back, ma’am.” The clerk who’s name eluded her said earnestly and wandered off.
“For an afternoon perhaps.” She mirthlessly chuckled and sat heavily in the high backed leather desk chair. Finally, a moment of quiet.
“Excuse me, Magus Valencia?” Asked a rough looking armored gentleman after a conciliatory knock on the doorframe.
“How can I assist the city guard today, Sir…” she said trailing off.
“Oh I’m no sir, but you can call me Darst, madam.” The man shifted awkwardly for a moment, fiddling with the hilt of his blade on his hip. “There appears to be a problem at the west gate ma’am, something about a strange stone of some kind.”
“You need my assistance in… looking at a stone?” Valencia asked slowly. Well, this certainly was one way to spend an afternoon.