I mull over what has transpired in the last week or so. Milbert must have been stealing souls, and looting the possessions of people for years, maybe even decades. He amassed a wealth of magical items and knowledge. Hell, he amassed far more than we found, because I have a ledger that indicates he had been melting things for years and years. Anything that didn’t suit his interests, or that he couldn’t use, or perhaps could be used against him, he melted. He grabbed the most valuable, valued possessions of every resident, and likely almost every traveler that stayed in Victo. Is it right that we should benefit from his depravity? Should I have left all of his belongings in a pile at the Castle Inn? Simply hope they make their way back to their original owners someday if we can return their souls?
I don’t know if what I did was the right thing, but I wouldn’t go back and make a different choice. I’m willing to use what villainy and evil has already accomplished in order to try to fix something that evil had put into motion in the first place. All my life I’ve struggled to try to be good, to be moral, to be ethical. I try make the right choices. I tried to avoid giving in to wrath or greed or any such thing. But now, when there is a massive host of people sitting soulless that have been robbed? Am I anywhere near on the good side of things to take advantage of that? Reggie Shellcracker. When will you realize that you’re the true villain in your own story?
Okay, maybe I’m being just a tad harsh on myself there. Lil and I fought over similar thoughts several times in our lives. Lil would struggle to convince me to drop thought trains that led to me considering myself a villain or monster. Luni and Teuila would try to comfortingly guide me through such thoughts out the other side beyond them by disproving their conclusions and such. I allow myself a ragged sigh of remembrance. Lil, Lu, Lucky, I hope you’re safe out there. I love you all.
Apparently while I was lost in thought, Teuila and Jarrah have been speaking. I catch part of Teuila asking, “— we couldn’t. But anyway Jarrah, my Airhead seems to think you’re some kind of powerful something or other. Are you?”
Jarrah chuckles lightly, “Power has nothing to do with what I am, but I can say that I’m unique. No others of my kind reside on Rayileklia, despite any claims otherwise.”
Is Jarrah insinuating that he’s a celestial creature, but the Celestial Emperor is an impostor? I guess it’s not that hard to believe. I think Aces was convinced about the C E being some kind of demon or devil. I can’t recall why I think that, but if true, Aces was probably right in that assumption. Wait. C E? Chaotic Evil? Sonnova. I mean, that has to be just some kind of stupid coincidence, right? No one would advertise their disposition so blatantly, right? Then again, it’s not like he has to care what people think about him. He can create magical fires that siphon people’s souls, perhaps slowly, perhaps en masse. Maybe it was a one-time deal that took a vast multitude of souls to craft such a light, basically an investment. Either way, he’s self-titled as an emperor, and subjugates and conquers every bordering country eventually. His actions don’t exactly give off a non-evil vibe to begin with.
Rayileklia is such a mess. I just want to go back to our world, to our family, and yet. Yet I can’t help being worried for Dawn, Tiago, Harriet, Daffodil, Berinon, Tim, Dippy, Miza, Elder, Scrap, even Clint, Dodge, and Meredith, even Helen and Rej. All of these people just living their lives might one day have their light snuffed out by the Celestial Emperor. If a portal opened up right this very second, and it led to Can’Z’aas, could I leave them behind? Would I? Lil thinks I have to answer every call, but what if there are multiple simultaneous calls? What if they’re on entirely different worlds?
I draw in a shuddering breath as I fight back my saddening conclusions. Unless I had some way to fragment my soul in such a way as to essentially grow duplicates of myself to send into simultaneous situations, I don’t know how to answer. Lil thinks the best of me in the worst way. Others put their faith in me to do the right things, say the correct words, be in various places at exact times to prevent calamities. Or maybe they don’t. Maybe I’m the only one putting this pressure on me, on my inner circle. Who’s to say that any of my loved ones, friends, or even acquaintances would be disappointed in me if I backed out of adventuring entirely?
Even if none of them would admonish me, or think less of me, I’d probably think less of myself. Who would step up if I stepped down along with my inner circle? Can’Z’aas was so sparsely populated, and the most powerful mortals were all in my inner circle. I mean, maybe some of the Fae from the Miracle Oak might have been powerful spellcasters or something. I’d have to hope that one or more of them rises to the challenge. Could I rest easy or enjoy life if I left the challenges to other people? Would I trust anyone else to handle the messes I’ve found myself in? Sighing, I shake my head. No, no to all of the questions. Responsibility and power have fallen in my lap. What did that one uncle say? With great power, hm, yeah.
Hell, I don’t even have great power here on Rayileklia. Well, nothing like what I’d had on Can’Z’aas anyway. What are my order of priorities here on Rayileklia, right now though? Sure I need to be more powerful, I need to be able to find us a way home. While here I’d like to fix the psychic bond between Teuila and myself, but that’s fairly far down my list of top priorities. Number one right now is saving Dawn and the Aasimovian ancestors from this ridiculous curse. That currently has side objectives though that include me mastering a system of magic in a short time. A system that, as far as I can tell, has never really produced masters of magic at the level I’m trying to achieve.
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Thinking about the system, magic items with anything more than basic durability enhancing enchantments take months to years to construct a simple object by my estimates. Spellcasting, learning spells, and recording them seems to be so difficult, that only the wealthiest, or most solitary individuals can devote the time it takes to master them. I base this on the fact that I haven’t seen anyone weaving spells around out in the open at all. I figure if there had ever been master casters, archmages, sorcerer supremes, apex enchanters, or any other premiere individuals in various fields, there would be more sign of them on Rayileklia so far. As is, the most masterful individual I’ve met is the wife of the leader of the dwarven mafia in the Derbrightmine Dominion. Paulette Derbrightmine. As far as I know, she invented those prototype weapons that could fire bullets by sucking out and condensing the mana within the gun’s wielder.
Alright, back on the topic of priorities. Dawn’s curse, number one, full stop. Number two, reunite with Lil and Luni. Number three, stop the Celestial Emperor cold in his tracks, slay him if necessary. Number four, find a way home. Ugh, all of these other than finding Lil, Lu, and Lucky require me to become massively more powerful. I don’t even know for certain that I have the capacity for greater power. What if I can’t master any other runes?
Oh, right, we’re walking and talking. I catch a part something Teuila is explaining, “Because of all that, well. Well anyway. So my Airhead is doing their best, spent all day yesterday just learning some cold magic thing. If Lil really told you all about back home, then you have to know just how good Reggie is at sciencing out magic. My Air is trying so hard. Our bond is broken on this world, but I can still -feel- their anguish as they race against the clock on this curse. Lil really said those things though? Really?”
Jarrah mutters, “Yes, though such sentiments are lost on me as mere doggerel dregs of affection in speech. You’ll excuse my lack of finesse in emotional matters. Existing for so long, secretly at odds with such a manxome foe has been, hm, tiring to say the least.”
Teuila responds, “Right, right right. Great big evil looming over the whole world. We’ll take care of that later. Can you help my Airhead learn magic though?”
Jarrah looses a laugh that’s half amusement, half a scoff of disbelief. I can virtually feel him rolling his eyes through the back of his head. His answer provides hope, “If anyone on our forsaken little world is qualified to teach such a thing, I believe I could count myself among their small number. Magic is a fickle being unto itself. It’s an untamed force beyond nature or the natural. Those that claim to have truly mastered it are deluding themselves. Yet there are certainly skilled practitioners out and about that yet remain. I fear many have been lost to our great foe though. That country has expanded to such a vast degree, and quelled all who reside within its domain.”
Jarrah’s voice adopts a saddened tone, “I fear their few remaining targets will, well, it’s safe for the moment, but even an enchantment such as this will not hold our foe at bay forever. Especially if he succeeds at whatever he plans to use the candle for.”
The candle metaphor again, crap, did he already explain it? I ask apologetically, “I, um, sort of spaced out for a bit. The candle? Is that a metaphor? Is it a, um, magical cylindrical prism housed in a massive tower in Navica? One so packed with souls that they, well, they appear like droplets of wax?”
Jarrah’s expression, beneath the crazed gaze, is one of shock, definitely surprise, but also possibly fear. He responds, “You’ve laid eyes upon the candle and survived? How in creation is that possible?”
Actually, how do I know what the candle looks like? Was it one of Aces’ memory dream things? I scratch the back of my head as I attempt to be honest, “I’m not actually sure that I have laid eyes upon it so much as, um, siphoned the memories of someone who has? I’m not sure how to explain it. All my life I’ve had glimpses, brief flashes. I thought it was simply a recurring progressive dream for the longest time. It seemed to jump around in the lifespan of someone who couldn’t have been native to our world.”
Jarrah prompts me to continue, “Fascinating, do go on.”
I shrug as I try to summarize, “I, um, I think their, okay well I know their name was Aces, and I’m positive they existed, because the people I’d seen Aces speak with in their dreams exist and remember them. We found Aces’ corpse, err, body, gosh there’s no nice way to put that. When we arrived, it was to a certain secret temple, and in that temple was Aces’ unmoving form. No signs of cause of death actually, no veins flushed or bulging, no foam from the mouth, no blood, no recent wounds, no exceptional bruising or obviously shattered bones. I know Aces didn’t believe in magic for the longest time, but magic is the only cause of death that my conclusions can come to.”
Jarrah strokes his beard as he mumbles seemingly to himself, “So the ageless grasshopper passed on. I never thought I’d see the day.” Then, more intentionally audibly, Jarrah responds, “So you dreamt of our world while on your own, and now you’ve stumbled into a nest of problems that you’re trying to untangle. You hope magic holds the answers, the key to the solutions. I’ll try not to dishearten you, but I will say that magic is far more lock than key, more question than answer.”