Over the course of the rest of the second day and night, we managed to get most of the headquarters furnished with wooden or stone furniture and lined with pelts, carvings, and other rudimentary decorations. And after a night of rest, our last outing of the first quarter was concluded with a morning cleanup session. Afterward, we gathered on the island to watch Doyle embed a crystal into the dirt. Then watched in awe as growths of vines poured from the ground, twisting and writhing over themselves to form a wooden doorway carved with glowing sigils.
Stepping through brought us to our tranquil courtyard in the roots of the Bodhi Tree, over a thousand kilometers away. And from there, we were free to enjoy our day off or watch another duel between the Amazonian Warriors and the overly competitive goliaths. I, however, told Zakira I’d catch up with her later and traveled to the edge of the courtyard to do something I’d been wanting to do since I met with the headmaster.
Commune.
In the midmorning shade of the recesses of our courtyard, I approached the shade of a nearby tree and quietly fell into it. Then emerged in the pestilent realm of darkness naught a moment later. It was my first time venturing to this part of the realm and so I took a look towards the divine tree, only to see a decaying husk with a hollowed trunk and dilapidated roots.
Satisfied with the surroundings, I dove down into the ground and was consumed by darkness- my darkness, filled with nearly every material possession I’ve collected in this life along with the menagerie. But I kept falling. And soon came upon the ashen gates of the Underworld, drifted through them, and descended to the plain of necrotic smoke that overlooked the ceaseless wailing of the damned.
Moving past my throne, I continued falling. I kept diving to the Under and eventually came to a halt above it, hovering in that strange mix of flying and standing above the nigh-infinite expanse of tortured souls and wicked devils.
Though they scattered at the mere sight of me, I continued flying above them. Scouting out the Under with thoughts of dropping in on one of the trillions of imps for some conversation. About what was my biggest guess, however, so I took a dip into the void and unsurprisingly saw nothing. Felt nothing. Again. And so, with seemingly nothing else to do, I returned to my throne to sit and spoke before the Raven Reaper even had a chance to sidle up behind me.
“I told the False Devil what you said.”
“And?” She wheeled around my throne, smiling as regally and playfully as always. “Your opinion?”
“He was… hopeful, that I’d lift him of his curses,” I said. “But he broke the rules.”
“And in time, he’ll get what he deserves.” She peered at me in a way that stated it was more of a demand or a fact than reassurance or anything else. “For now, you should heed his knowledge of Classes and think of what your specialty will be. I understand you may have other magical affinities, but your Sorcery will always be the most powerful of them all. It is fully engrained in your mind, body, spirit, and soul. It can never be taken away.”
“That’s something I’ve been curious about.” I squinted at her. “Specifically, if how I use my Sorcery ties into whatever Prestige Class I get. Assuming I even have one.”
“Yes, but no,” Telman stated after apparating. “While your other classes may be influenced by your sorcery, they are largely determined by your magic, skills, abilities, and accomplishments. Your sorcerous class, however- the Prestige One- seems to go by no such formula, however.”
“As I understand it, your father was a type of Mastermind.” Azrael appeared before me. “A type of rogue focused more on intrigue than anything else. Yet his sorcerous class was akin to my power, wherein he created dolls of bone and animated them with darkness.”
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“Everandus was raised a knight on the path to be Paladin. Yet his friend taught him his barbaric ways. Even then, however, our sorcery turned him into the Necro King he is known by today,” Telman stated. “He, Azrael, and Emeric were graduates of the Bodhi Tree. Unlike me and my father. We evolved from Gran’s Tree. As a Fighter, I was a Shadow Hunter. As a Sorcerer, an Abyssal Archivist.”
“And I was a Shadowdancer.” Darkblood grinned. “A rogue. Like a Swashbuckler, but better. Lived on the seafloor and attacked anyone I wanted really. Me and my boys would ascend in the night, spreading darkness, summoning storms; generally scaring the piss outta folk. But then my Sorcery made me a Shadowblood. Hence my moniker.”
“And I was a Cleric of Grimm.” Corvus declared with a warm smile, one that’d probably be horrific if seen by anyone else. “Combined with my druidic class, I became known as the Raven Reaper. I was known for my vampiric ability to transform into a flock of ravens, and I sometimes drank blood. But my chosen purpose was to ensure the Underworld received the souls called to its gates. And so my sorcery is what made me a Reaper.”
“Like the False Devil.” I nodded. To which she nodded back. So I continued. “But that begs the question. What was your progenitor?”
“My mother, Rigel Cole, was like you. A True Devil.” Corvus smiled wider. “While you clearly possess something… more, you both have the purest form of our Sorcery. In her words, 'The wicked undead befriends the Shade, worships Death, and fears the Void.' 'Tis the only thing the Under fears, for it is the only thing that can bring about its end.”
“Which brings me to my biggest curiosity.” I sighed. “Only my mother knows this, but I’ve been having the same dream ever since I could remember. Every single night. It’s part of being an elf, she said. Memories from our ancestors. Evidently, it’ll stop when I get older. But, she remembers her dreams being different every night.”
All of my ancestors leaned forward in objected anticipation. But it was Corvus, as always, who spoke for them. “What is it that you see?”
“It plays like a story in my dreams- or, like a book that I read a chapter a night. I see a night sky, filled with vibrant hues and hundreds- if not thousands of stars. Within a few months, a void seems to creep across the sky. And by a year the void condenses into what appears to be a draconic devil. Whatever it is, it has our skin with what appears to be scales of darkness. Two arms and two legs. Wings. Its eyes are black, with white irises like that of a dragon or reptile. It has two sets of horns, one sticking straight up and the other curling around its head, ending in forked points. I see it standing before the night sky we see today. And then the dream reverses and eventually repeats.”
“If Eved is correct, then I believe you are seeing our first ancestor.” Corvus gasped in amazement. “I know not of their name, but those in the Crypt may.”
“All the more reason to go.” I sighed. I wanted- needed to know why my ancestor decided to isolate the Mortal Plane from the rest of the vibrant universe I saw in Telin’s hand. Assuming they did in the first place. But the only other explanation was that this universe was extremely old and thus the Hubble Expansion was responsible for the isolation of the universe’s galactic clusters. But I doubted that was the case.
“Be patient, young devil.” Corvus smiled gently, though her words did little to help. “You must focus on the now. Like your Classes, you must choose a way to use our power in a way that suits you. Have you an idea of what that is?”
“That’s yet another thing I’ve been thinking about recently.” I leaned back into my throne with a nod. “I’ve also been thinking about Devils. How we relate to them. How they react to me. How we’re perceived on the outside to be them. After my meeting with the headmaster, I came to a decision.” Peering over my armrest, I swept my eyes around the dense crowd of souls and devils tormenting and being tormented without end. “My specialty will be Curses and Deals. Like a true devil. Or, as some call me, an Elven Devil.”
“Admirable.” Corvus bared her fangs in a grin. “And what of your path?”
“I'm in the process of forming Legions.” I grinned back. “One for the day, one for the night. One living, one dead. One to help people in need, one to spread chaos. Creators and Destroyers. Soldiers and Explorers led by me and my troupe. I’ll make deals with those seeking to escape their mortality and curse those others would have killed. Curses and Deals. Deals and Curses.”
“Quite the ambitions for a necromancer with no undead.” Corvus chided with a turn over her shoulder, guiding my eyes to the empty expanse stretching behind my ancestors.
‘Here we go again.’