James’ breathing was far too even despite the events leading up to this point. In front of him the crystalline portrait of death hovered just beyond his grasp. At second glance it was reminiscent of a Tarot card, but there was obviously more to it than that. The visceral reality of the events leading up to this point contrasted with the sudden dreamlike manifestation in front of him.
“Go on,” an unfamiliar voice whispered out from the shadows at the edge of his mind, raspy and inscrutable “reach out and claim it.”
It dawned on James that he could even do such a thing, his body having been unnaturally still in bewilderment. Bloody fingers beckoned the card forth where it became suspended above his outstretched hand. An unexpected frigidity emanated from it and permeated both flesh and bone. As things were, James welcomed its numbing embrace. The faint chime of an immaterial bell sounded as the artifact ceased its entrancing gyrations and flit straight into his chest where it found no resistance on the way to his heart.
Deliverance.
Then came a sensation of a chill so deep it turned to white hot agony as it whipped through his body like knives on a blistering wind. From the inside out his body was being purged by a purifying gale of ice.
Finality.
The gale lost its cutting edge but the numbing chill settled, meanwhile shadows coalesced at the edges of his mind into monstrous silhouettes. Here and there were flashes of his life being brought to the forefront of his attention only for the shadows to tear them from his grasp.
Oblivion.
A dark ocean flooded his soul, the harsh midnight waves clashed in endless turmoil. His tattered form shot down into the depths. Deep and deeper still he was pulled, until the violent surface had been left well behind. As he sank he felt cold gazes from the dark watching his descent, but they did not follow.
Eventually, mercifully, he felt that his course was slowed. When he looked below however, dread consumed him again. It was an expanse devoid of anything at all, and he could feel that it was in its nature to remain that way. He wasn’t meant to be here. The dark ocean had brought him to the end, the void of creation, to the unmaking oblivion where even it could not go.
“How does it feel?” the voice continued with growing fervor “To realize such a purpose while so young, it is both a blessing and a curse.”
“What purpose is that?” James wondered. He could not look away, he could not sever his connection to the vision. Silent tears began to trail from his eyes, yet he remained unaware of the strain they were experiencing as he stared on at the end of all things.
“Even now you seek to pierce the veil and know the unknown despite the toll.” The voice muttered, with something between amusement and respect “The path to true understanding will further tax your mind, body, and soul. Your past and your future will no longer be your own. Is this not the price that death claims in all things?”
“Price?” James mumbled and was finally able to thrust himself from the velvety midnight of the vision only to observe that he wasn’t standing where he’d been only moments before.
Instead he found himself on the steps of a once grand staircase, the formerly opulent carpets and drapes were tattered and worn. A winged balcony stretched out above him, the wooden rails chipped, splintered, and weathered. Down the stairs the path broadened into a large seating room, or perhaps it was a ballroom. It was hard to tell with the decrepit state of the furnishings. All told, he appeared to be in the rotting husk of a once grand manor.
“Hello?” he called out to the voice from before “Where am I?”
No response came.
James would’ve been justified in feelings of confusion and frustration, as he had no idea what was going on. Yet when he tried to put things into context, he found that his memory was failing him. Where had he been prior to the visions the voice showed him? Or was it the strange card that caused them? Too much remained unclear. All he could recall was that he’d been overwhelmed by a visceral feeling of resentment and indignation. He looked down at his bloodied clothes and hands.
Ah, right.
Pieces were there, like his involvement in an accident. No- it was an intervention, an attempt to protect someone.
He had failed.
The name of who he failed slipped his mind, but he remembered other things. The flood of emotions that welled up within him when he looked into those lifeless eyes. Then there was a heated vengeance, but it was hollow.
Nothing could fill the void created by loss. Loss that rang deeper than he’d experienced in that moment alone. James had lost people before, that much was apparent even without remembering the details.
Standing here now, wherever he was, it was primarily the memory of those feelings that remained. All James actually felt was numb and out of place. Atop his heart the mark of death now stood vigilant, and from it he felt a suppressive shadowy aura. Not dissimilar to what he felt when staring into the void, only this time it wasn’t threatening to swallow him whole.
When he tried to account for how this aura might be the source of his altered perceptions and emotions, he was caught off guard by whatever manifested in his mind as a result.
Status:
Name: James Vaughn
Omen: [Death (Unique)] (…)
Race: [Human (Common)] (…)
Class: [No equipped effect(s)]
Titles: [No equipped effect(s)]
Passively attuned cards (0/4):
[No equipped effect(s)]
Actively attuned cards (0/4):
[No equipped effect(s)]
It was a status screen, clearly visible to his mind’s eye. Despite how strange it should’ve been to see such a thing, part of him just felt assured when reading over his name. It was as if it guaranteed some part of his identity would stay with him no matter how fragmented his memory was. That itself was a boon. Then his eyes naturally fell on the ‘omen’ he now housed within himself: Death.
Upon focusing he was able to see the card itself, floating in his mental space in all its profane glory. Imbued upon the card’s secondary face were the inscribed runes he could not interpret before, revealing themselves anew.
Omen: [Death (Unique - Initiate)]
Omen passive effects (1/?):
[Grave Aura: All traces of your former vitality have been tempered with the aura of the grave. A reflection of undeath, you become the unlife. Your body shall hunger for naught but the ethereal, and your senses shall awaken to the lingering shadows of death in all forms. Fragments of the immutable void now reside within you, warding your mind from lesser afflictions and intrusions. Forge ahead with the certainty of the grave.]
Omen active effects (1/?):
[Death’s Kiss: The scales of life and death can be influenced by a gentle touch, you only have to reach out. Grasp the miasmic tendrils of death and guide them under your knowing touch. ]
James noted that his suspicions were correct, there were potential factors at play regarding his current mental state being affected by the omen. He was similarly curious whether his inconsistent memories were a product of the same effect, or if the disembodied voice that accompanied his visions was to blame. Even as he tried to take this whole situation in stride, the thought of someone manipulating events to force him along was… disconcerting to say the least.
At that thought he cautiously probed within this mental space to see if he could dislodge the card from his core, but it didn’t budge. Who would’ve guessed that blindly fumbling around with things beyond your understanding was unlikely to result in a breakthrough? Perhaps he wasn’t being fair to himself, it was worth a try if only to know it wouldn’t be so simple to reverse.
He briefly returned to his status to examine the only other thing of note. Another card was brought to the forefront of his focus, this one depicting a starry constellation in the shape of a human man with his arms spread across the heavens.
Race: [Human (Common - Initiate)]
Racial passive effects (2/?):
[Human Ingenuity: The versatility of humans is known across the far realms. While no single individual or institution represents them, they still benefit from the combined knowledge of their diverse pursuits. As a human, the rate at which you learn new information is increased if it involves insights formulated by your fellow man. The strength of this effect is dependent upon the quality of the insights shared and the method by which they are communicated.]
[Realm Tongue: A latent gift seen in many races who travel the planes, overcome the language divide as you travel under the effects of this ability. All mundane languages lay at the tip of your tongue as you unconsciously interpret their intent. Hidden meanings and ciphers still rely on your contextual understanding, and the tongues of the arcane remain beyond reach.]
Racial active effects (0/?):
This was another interesting development, and one that suggested there were entire realms to be seen and traveled. He wasn’t sure where he’d ended up, but the revelation combined with the events leading him to this point painted a particular picture. James might be much further removed from his previous life than he first thought. This was what the voice meant about his “purpose” being both a blessing and a curse. In a twisted sense this could be seen purely as an opportunity, but the cost was…
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Your past and your future will no longer be your own.
James sighed. Even with the grave aura warding off the usual hysterics, this could take a while to digest. It may take him time to acclimate but the revelations on his origin and subsequent appearance here would be brought back into the light. For now he needed to get a better grasp on things.
Back to his status, aside from the information about his race and omen, there were other categories present in his status that appeared inactive. It seemed like he could obtain additional boons by encountering more of these cards. It mentioned classes and titles, passive and active card effects. There was a certain familiarity to the terms and formatting that James couldn’t place at the moment, but ultimately decided he could work with.
With nothing more but uncertainties to dwell on, he refocused on the world around him and hesitantly ascended the remainder of the dilapidated stairs he’d appeared on. The aging planks protested the addition of his weight in a few spots, but they ultimately held. If he could get to a vantage point like an upstairs window, perhaps he could establish the presence of a useful landmark or something equally defining about the surroundings. Just because he didn’t know where he was didn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying to find out.
At the top existed a landing where a wide hall split off on either side, pale light streaming in through regular intervals suggesting there were indeed windows. He turned to the right side of the hall and made for the first one he could see, stopping to assess the view. What greeted him was a disheveled and overgrown landscape within the husk of a once stately property. A low wall of stone stood around parts of the perimeter, crumbling to ruin in others. Long grass and weeds dominated the space within, and trees with gnarled roots and twisted trunks stood tall beyond the edges. Some of the downstairs portion of the manor could be seen, its exterior walls having been stripped bare and bleached by years of harsh sunlight with no one to maintain it. Wherever this was, it had been well and truly abandoned.
Beyond the scope of the estate James could see a few tall structures and rooftops peeking up from above the dense treeline surrounding the property. So this manor was at least near civilization and not completely lost to nature. Hopefully things were in a better state than they were here, but James had his doubts.
Glancing at the spot of blood he left behind on the window, he realized it would probably be best to clean himself up. If he encountered another person as he was now it’d likely make for an unfortunate impression. He wouldn’t be able to blame them honestly. Thus he decided to poke through the content of this hall's set of rooms.
Leaving the window, the first door handle he reached out to along the interior of the hallway was jammed, but applying a moderate level of force with his shoulder caused it to pop right open. He also noted that it wasn’t likely to function again after that little maneuver. Oh well…
James had to reach up to ward off the musty air that affronted him upon entering the small space, however he noted he was in luck. Sort of. This room was clearly used for the storage of linens, however there was no sign of actual clothing items. There were a few precariously leaning shelves and frayed baskets with what appeared to be bundled sheets or fabrics, some of which held up well enough for his purposes. Upon probing they were stiff and dusty, but a few large sections of one old sheet was more than enough to use to scrape his hands and forearms mostly clean. Was it wrong to view these findings as free for him to use? It wasn’t like anyone seemed to be around to care, so he figured it was like recycling.
Huh…
He could remember certain concepts like recycling but the life experience that would otherwise accompany that knowledge was missing. It felt like trying to remember the details of a vague dream after waking up, only to promptly lose it. Still, it represented an unexpected moment of recognition even if it was just a term or a phrase he’d once known. More might simply reveal itself in time, or so a part of James hoped.
The next few rooms throughout the wing appeared to be smaller guest rooms. He entered each one and did a quick scan of anything he could repurpose. He didn’t want to spend a lot of time here, it would be much harder to navigate the surrounding property in the twilight hours. Unfortunately these rooms were bare, unless of course he was counting the dusty knicknacks or antique furniture James wasn’t sure could even hold his weight before collapsing.
Then he reached the end of the hall, and a double door frame with ornate carvings signaled a more promising search area. He pushed against them, but they held firm compared to the prior entryways. In a brief moment of deja vu, James stepped back and kicked the joint mechanism between the doors causing them to burst open.
The interior was a larger suite which had a few tall windows unlike most of the rooms, the pale glow of daylight permeating the area. One of the windows had a wide desk under it, gazing out into the disheveled property. It was possible that there was once a beautiful garden to gaze upon from this vantage, but that time had long passed.
Atop the desk were the remnants of some papers, all of which had a brittle texture and had nothing legible on their surface. The only things of note scattered about it were a magnifying glass, a few questionable bottles of what was once possibly ink, and a thin wooden box with a surface worn to a smooth finish. The last of which felt a bit out of place to him.
James pulled the lid off the box with surprising ease and was struck to see what was within. It was none other than a card, which unlike the rest of this place seemed to be in fair condition. Then again, it didn’t seem to have the same presence and flair for the dramatic that his omen did. It could just be that omens were distinct like that, his status did classify it as ‘unique’.
Atop the new card’s decorative surface was the image of a distorted iris looking through a lens. The script at the top of the rear face titled it: “Inspect”. Again, the remaining inscriptions on the back were small and difficult to parse. Was this what realm tongue would classify as a hidden meaning, or was it because of its arcane nature? Whatever the case, his curiosity won out. Not only could its capabilities prove useful like his other card effects, but there was some worth in comparing this experience with his first encounter with the omen card. Recalling how it seemed to pierce right through him, this time he slowly and intentionally brought the new card near his chest where it resonated weakly before sliding in without a hitch. Despite bracing himself, there were no follow up pains, no visions or voices, just a moment of pressure as if he’d swallowed something heavy. After a few moments of what he assumed was it settling, he felt a mental pulse that he was beginning to associate with accessing status information.
[Active card equipped: (1/4)]
[Card attuned: Inspect (Uncommon - Initiate)]
Card active effects (1/1):
[Inspect: Examine an individual object with this effect to reveal basic information about its nature. Amount of information available, range of use, and cooldown period is dictated by card rarity and tier. (Cooldown: 30 seconds)]
As James suspected, its theoretical utility was unquestionable. So much so that its convenience to him in this moment didn’t feel like simple coincidence. However, coincidence rarely looked innocent. Its initial placement with the dusty supplies gave credence to the notion that this was simply where the card’s previous owner had long ago utilized it for some purpose or another, but a few questions still went unanswered from that conclusion. Like why had the card's condition fared better than the surrounding environment, and why had it been left behind?
James resumed his perusal of the room, but growing uncertainties began clouding his thoughts. Luckily, a wide dresser containing deep drawers actually had a few scraps of recoverable clothing scattered within. From the heap he pulled out a deep gray shirt of some kind that felt like it would hold up well, a bit large for James’ current figure but a welcome addition to the thin undershirt he’d arrived here in. Amidst the more degraded items were a couple bulky pairs of pants, they had rough stitchwork and whoever once wore them had cut a broad figure. He decided to test the Inspect card on the clothing to see what if any information could be gleaned.
[Lowborn Tunic (Common - Mundane): A thick sleeved overshirt. Intended for cold weather and laborious activity. ]
James sensed something similar to the status pulse from the card after its use, presumably letting him know it was on cooldown. Near one corner of the large suite was a tall wardrobe filled with more fanciful garments, none of which looked even remotely comfortable or practical to fit into. Lacy gowns that had lost their luster, ornate overcoats with frilly adornments, none of it spoke to necessity. Also James was pretty sure this compartment had been home to a few arachnids over the years based on the occasional cobweb he pushed aside. There was still something to be gained, however. From this selection James pulled out a leather vest with some nifty looking pockets and was about to turn away when something caught his eye. At the base of the wardrobe, beneath the timeworn frills and pomp, a small dark shape shyly peaked out.
[Cloudstep Slipper (Uncommon - Arcane): Nighttime footwear enchanted to caress the wearer’s feet in cloud-like softness. ]
James looked on in surprise and even felt a half-hearted laugh escape his lips; The magic slipper’s appearance adding a unexpected bit of levity to the situation. Or perhaps it was the absurdity of his near instant consideration to put it on. It might not hold up as well as the more utilitarian clothing once he got outside, but any footwear was better than none at the moment. He dug around near the base of the wardrobe till he found the second one, and decided it couldn’t hurt to step right in.
Soon enough a knot of tension eased out of him as the soles of his feet were caressed by the enchantment. James didn't know if he’d compare the sensation to clouds, but it was definitely invigorating. Based on the tight fit, it likely wasn’t meant for the same individual that the rest of the pilfered clothes likely belonged to. They were likely for that man’s partner, if the contents of their formerly shared wardrobe were any clue. Either way they were a welcome addition to his growing bundle of second hand goods.
Just as he turned to leave the room, having completed his utilitarian looting, he took a second glance at what appeared to be a dusty container atop a low nightstand. Deciding to take a closer look, he was soon glad he bothered. Inspect.
[Faded Jewelry Box (Common - Mundane): A small painted chest of wood with a velvety interior made for the storage of delicate jewels and precious metals.]
After flipping the small clasp and lifting the lid he found a small collection of dainty gold and silver adornments along with a few large jewels affixed to some sort of headband. The scattered clothes of questionable value were one thing, but both the card he’d found at the desk and these precious metals were clear signs of wealth in his mind. If this estate was truly abandoned as long as the general state of things suggested, wouldn’t someone have come by to pick through the place? How many years had these riches just sat around untouched, and why?
He had a growing list of questions worth asking, but wasn’t any close to answering them as things stood. Grabbing the contents of the jewelry box, James stuffed it all into the vest’s many pockets which were now slightly bulging. He’d have to use his new card to inspect them later for any special properties.
He didn’t need a lifetime of memories to tell him something very wrong had caused this place to stand as it did now, forsaken and forgotten.
The presence of the cards, and even the silly enchanted slippers, revealed that matters of the arcane weren’t as easy to account for as their mundane counterparts. For all he knew the answers about this estate’s history were wrapped up in layers of magical intrigue that James had no way to confidently navigate.
Glancing out one of the windows revealed the ever waning light of evening. Whatever benefits there could be to sticking around and gathering more supplies were outweighed by the risks of probing around an unfamiliar structure in the dark. Caution won out and he decided to just slide the heavy tunic, trousers, and vest over his briefs and undershirt. The slippers returned to their rightful place on his feet, a relaxed sigh escaping James’ lips in spite of himself.
His initial concerns about properly washing up would have to wait for another time. The newly procured clothing would’ve needed to be wiped down and freshened up for him to feel truly clean regardless. It was fortunate that the waist of the pants had a leather cord that could be adjusted, or else merely walking around in them would’ve been a chore.
It was time to leave.
As he exited the stately suite and returned to the hall, he reconsidered the cracked frame hanging perpendicular to its entryway. It contained a worn and graying canvas, but at second glance it seemed to depict a man and woman standing together against the ravages of time. James gave a small nod to the portrait of whom he suspected were the former occupants of this suite in gratitude.
As he made his way back toward the formerly grand stairway, the waning light outside had dimmed the dilapidated corridors even further. As he returned to the landing atop the steps, the last rays of the sun’s light drifted below the exterior treeline.
That was when everything shifted, literally, as the entire manor felt like it was a ship that had suddenly run aground.
James was nearly sent flying over the railing, but at the last second grabbed a hold of one of the worn posts anchored to the floor. It cracked, but barely managed to hold his weight as he scrambled back over the ledge. Getting tossed into the scattered debris of the open ballroom more than fifteen feet below would’ve made for quite the rough landing. However, that wasn’t the most discouraging development.
A chorus of creaks echoed throughout the manor as if it was taking a shuddering breath, the wooden fixtures groaning in protest.
It appearsss we have guessstss... A voice like shifting sand hissed throughout the deepening darkness of the corridors. Find them.