Nikolai stood frozen, eyes fixed on Owen with firm disapproval. His hand played with the sword, threading the hilt through his fingers as he played with it like a batton. The moment passed, and Owen gasped as he realized what was happening. Nikolai was checking with his interface, or maybe receiving notifications. The gasp echoed in the empty room.
Nikolai resumed his apparently idle wandering around the room. “You’re refusing my order?”
The forced casual tone rocked Owen, and the puzzle pieces fell into place. He must have some kind of leverage. Just bringing him and the girl back from the brink of death proved that. The first clue was the quests. Of course he had some make-work for him to do. Nikolai abhorred running the city. But there was something under that, if he could only figure out how to take advantage of it.
The answer came to him.
He wasn’t naive. He knew he’d be expected to commit atrocities–had already committed them. But he had leverage now. Even the US military didn’t have that. Though he’d trade another two years on the roof to know what it was.
“If I do this, you need to know that I’m not your minion. I’m not your slave. But most of all, I need a way out. I need a promise that this isn’t my life forever.” Owen couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.
Nikolai’s eyes closed, and he sighed in satisfaction. Whatever he was imagining, Owen didn’t want to know. The grin he received was deep, cruel, even eager. “And if I don’t? We can go back to exploring methods of encouraging your cooperation.”
“Then I obey just long enough to figure out how I can do the most damage, then I burn this place to the ground.” He had ideas. Nothing fully formed, but he knew he could do some damage.
The head tilted again. This time he looked Owen up and down, apparently assessing his unbelievable audacity. But his eyes were dim. His thoughts weren’t on Owen. He was looking at his interface. What was going on?
Owen’s mind raced ahead. This was the problem with not having his own interface. He had only vague ideas of what Nikolai could be seeing. Perhaps his impertinence was triggering a notification from some form of leadership stat or skill? Maybe he had a quest regarding Owen that kept updating? Perhaps there was a timer for something, and he kept checking the interface to make sure he wasn’t late? Maybe he was bored and rereading his spells. It could be anything.
Owen did receive notifications, on occasion, but only received the messages that were strong enough to overcome his handicap. He didn’t have regular access to the interface. Yet. That’s what this was all about. But he couldn’t seem too eager.
“Very well. It’s my quest, so I should offer the reward.” The grin grew excited. “Perhaps I’ve earned the ability to issue quests on behalf of the city.” The crowd did not seem to appreciate that idea. Not a popular tyrant.
Owen tried not to smile. He hadn’t expected anything. If he could get a hundred mana, then he could buy his Aspect. “So, you’ll pay me for the quests?”
The excited smile lingered. “Within reason? Certainly. What would you like? Power? Women?”
“Mana.”
The sword’s point was at his throat in an instant. Owen gasped just in time for the wall to knock the air out of him. His head must have hit too. His head and vision were both foggy. The fog faded, and Nikolai’s eyes were inches from his. One arm pinned him against the wall, the other held the sword against his throat. Nikolai's gaze could have kept him pinned just as thoroughly without the help. Owen opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he’d said wrong and coughed up blood.
Nikolai looked unsettled for a moment and then let him fall to the floor. He avoided looking at the crowd. “Heal him.”
Frank scrambled forward, attempting to watch Nikolai casually, but he didn’t manage it. He hadn’t pulled his jaw closed yet. He cast the spell and forced his life force into Owen. His gaze moved from Nikolai to Owen, apparently unsure which was more unbelievable, the insignificant slave without any magic making demands of a self-appointed king or the king acquiescing.
“No. No no no.” Nikolai consulted his system again. From inches away it made him look crazed–more crazed, anyway. “If you want power, you’ll have to get it yourself. You get nothing from me.”
There was a minefield there, but also tacit permission. Owen would need to find out what had caused the explosion before he could begin to figure out how to avoid the minefield.. “Fine, you won’t let me join the game?” What other reward was there? “Fine, if not me, then the girl.”
Nikolai's head tilted to the side. It was a long moment of contemplation, and Owen found it harder and harder to breathe as the pressure against his chest increased. Finally Nikolai whispered. “If she ascends, she’ll be mortal. But that doesn’t free her from her responsibilities, I will keep my word.”
As Owen’s bodyguard his punishments would fall twice as heavily on her. Without immortality, she wouldn’t survive a week.
Nikolai interrupted. “No, a better idea! From now on, when she’s punished. You’ll do it. That way, when you kill her, you’ll have enough mana to ascend.”
Dark eyes searched Owen’s face, but Owen didn’t react. He’d killed people already, but that had been indirectly. Suddenly that felt like an excuse. Did that really make a difference? He certainly wasn’t sure he was ready to kill an innocent. Hundreds of thousands of people had died in the Eruption. She’d just be another casualty.
Owen thought about the girl laying in the filth and shivering in fear. If she knew her death could topple Nikolai, she’d volunteer. He decided then to tell her. He couldn’t imagine killing someone, but it had to be easier if she wasn’t begging for her life.
Owen’s words came in a rush. “Is that what you want? I’ll do it. But that’s your proof of loyalty. I kill an innocent girl, and I get some autonomy. Why not do it right now?” His blood went cold, and he regretted the offer immediately. He suddenly found himself relieved that he’d let the girl leave. More guilt flooded him. No, he reassured himself, he didn’t know where this would go when he’d waited for her to leave. He’d thought he was letting a hostage, and admittedly a source of leverage, escape.
A wave of pink-tinged mana struck Owen and rebounded to Nikolai. It was too much mana to simply be pinging his status. What kinds of spells did he have? This time Nikolai appeared surprised. “No, not now. I have things to get ready.” The lie fell flat.
Owen sagged in relief. Except he couldn’t let it go there. Owen sensed weakness, and he pressed harder. “No, let’s kill her now! Then my reward for the quests is my first Aspect.” His mouth went dry. He probably couldn’t do it. But he had to look firm.
The vampire wasn’t even looking at him anymore. He eyed the crowd and waved away the suggestion. “No, I can’t let you just kill her. She’s your bodyguard. You earn her mana first. Then whenever she dies, you keep her mana to ascend. That’s the deal.”
Owen relaxed. He’d have some time to work up the courage to murder her. Owen found himself laughing. Not funny laughter. His life had gotten so sick and twisted some of it needed to bubble out. He closed his eyes and hoped he wasn’t going mad. It was his mind releasing a little bit of tension.
How did things get this complicated?
Not just complicated, convoluted. There was something Nikolai was trying to hide in the conditions. But how much further could he press? Owen nodded his acceptance. He couldn’t bring himself to fight for this anymore. Ruse or no, his heart wasn’t in it.
“You’re truly ready to kill her?”
Owen sighed. It’d be great if he could lie, but there was a chance Nikolai had a truth spell. “I don’t know. I’ve never killed anyone in cold blood, but for this, I’ll try.”
“Then I think you’re ready. Just one further condition: you finally accept my other offer.”
Nikolai Kozan has offered to adopt you as heir to his throne. Do you accept?
It was everything a mundane should want: the promise of power, authority he’d need to complete the quests, even the threat of retribution against any player who thought to harm him. His bodyguard would be safe–until Nikolai’s whims demanded an arbitrary and over the top punishment. It was another leash, and it turned Owen’s stomach.
He could remember being offered this before. He’d refused, expecting punishments, but they’d never come. Vaguely he recalled there’d been a reason not to accept. He felt it down to his bones, as if his body screamed that he couldn’t.
He changed the subject. “What if the girl escapes?”
Nikolai assessed him again. There was something there. Something important about the girl. “I still won’t give you power. Killing her is your path to power.”
And there it was: the way out.
"Deal."
You are now the heir to the Vampire Clan of Omaha.
The dark eyes held his own. After a long uncomfortable silence, the self-proclaimed king couldn’t restrain himself. “Well, did the quest update?”
A Filial Son - Quest Updated
Reward: Rebecca will be permitted to ascend to player status. Her mana and life will be your path to ascension.
Owen nodded. “The quest now offers your reward.” Owen read the quest back to Nikolai, then he had to promise he’d read it word for word. The spell struck Owen again, and the result left Nikolai grinning.
Owen’s smile was more reserved. Quests were always the path to great power. But he needed to find another way soon, before the ambassador left.
When was that exactly anyway?
* * * * * * *
Nikolai and the adlet envoy watched the boy go. Nikolai dismissed the entire crowd after. Nearly every vampire in the city was there, almost forty of them. They’d witnessed his heir, and they’d undoubtedly try to kill him, which was for the best.
Frank remained. To Nikolai’s disappointment, the adlet envoy was an actual political player. Instead of being happy to sit in a room and eat himself to obesity, this one participated. It was irksome. “What the hell was that?”
“I do believe the boy plans to betray me.” Nikolai reveled in it. Owen was back in the toolbox, and he’d become sharper, more focused. Sure, he’d need to provide a few nudges here and there to keep him on track, but this was so much more than he’d dreamed. Sometimes things just work out.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The adlet snorted. It was a disgusting attempt at higher emotions from an adlet’s dog face. “No. Something else is off. Owen’s always been clever. So he plots for two years building up a good deep seated hatred, then he gets out and gives his nemesis everything he ever wanted? You’re not that dumb. Something is wrong. You can’t trust him.”
Nikolia shrugged. “I don’t need to know his plan to use it. I have the Truth aspect. I no longer need to trust anyone.”
The dog laughed. “I was wrong. You’re precisely that dumb.”
Nikolai stared at the dog. He was asking to be punished. Although–the room was empty. The humiliation wasn’t public. Was that on purpose? Was this mutt clever?
It wasn’t important. Without a witness, he wouldn’t spare the mana schooling the pup. Oh, he would trounce the child, but The mongrel would realize that he wasn’t using his precognitive abilities. If rumors–false rumors–got around that he’d lost his powers when he evolved his aspect, there’d be a line of fools trying to take him out. He’d need to kill half his lieutenants and probably the head of each clan. He loathed wasting his tools.
So he added a strike. It was the new adlet clan’s envoy’s first, so he went easy. Nikolai closed his eyes and imagined punishing the dog, hobbling the humanoid, forcing it to walk on all fours; feeding it scraps until it begged; and beating it senseless for every misstep. Ah! He could neuter it. That would be the responsible thing for a pet owner to do after all. Mongrels, this breed in particular, bred like rabbits.
Nikolai finished his little mental vacation.
He checked the floor again to make sure no one saw the impertinent beast’s misstep. Behavior like this had a tendency to spread if it went unpunished. Perhaps this too was an opportunity. He had no allies in the adlet camp. They had no appreciation for conversation, foresight, or even common sense. Still this creature had apparently avoided the worst of the consequences. It formed full sentences and everything.
Nikolai sneered. Still, what kind of inbred mongrel was he already? What kind of sapient being chose to become an adlet? The answer came unbidden–one with no other options. Which meant there was plenty of leverage, plenty of ambition. He would make a fine tool.
This one, he decided, was an up and comer. “What’s your name?”
“Frank.”
Now Nikolai remembered him. He was one of the children Owen had rescued–now almost nine feet tall. Kids grew up so fast.
“No, that was your name when you were nothing. When you were weak. You’re a new man now.” He managed not to snigger. “A new name for a new life–I name you Red.”
He got a flat look in return. “Because of the fur?”
Nikolai chuckled. “I see. Yes, that would be a bit on the nose. No, as in ‘red in tooth and claw.’”
The flat look blossomed into a smile. They really were dogs. A bit of praise, a few treats, and they’d follow you home and cheerfully piss in your bed. But a tool that turned in the hand was worse than useless. First he had loyalty to build.
“Alright, Red. Prove yourself. How would Owen evade the truth spell?”
The adlet shrugged. “Mundanes aren’t really a part of the game. I know at least two spells that don’t work on them. Does yours? Can he say one thing, fully intending to agree while terrified, but then change his mind? There’s always lots of gray areas where truth is concerned.”
Nikolai frowned. There were perhaps more weaknesses to his powers than he’d considered. He upgraded his measurement of Frank–no, Red. The dog was a genius of his kind. Perhaps he would have even graduated middle school.
Still, if his spell was flawed, he needed to know. Magic was magic. It superseded natural laws, but his spell description was brief. It “identified truths and lies.” How would it function in gray areas?
That was simple enough to check. Nikolai called for the Devil to be brought in. The adlet bowed and scrambled to fetch the intel merchant.
In the meantime.
Veracity – Spell: (40 Mana) Identify truths or lies. Spell cost is adjusted proportionate to the target’s level. Full refund for targets a full tier lower. Catching a lie refunds additional mana.
It was a gem.
The exorbitant cost was mitigated by the refund. As he was the highest level sapient in the area, he always got most of the mana back. It was probably not stretching things too far to say his first ability’s refund effect had kept his little government alive of late. It alone had foiled three coups. Though, it wasn’t his first ability by quite a few. It was the first ability for his Truth aspect. The first ability they’d earned together.
A cost effective first spell appeared to be consistent for the first of each of the powers that came from unlocking new aspects, possibly to compensate for the drastic mana scarcity on their world. Each of his four abilities that came with unlocking an aspect were cheap.
He only wished he could use the spell to farm mana. That full refund combined with a bonus for catching a lie was begging to be exploited. But that little experiment had failed. In every attempt to exploit the spell, he lost all forty mana and received no refund. He might be able to experiment eventually. But for now mana was too costly. Still, he had a small surplus from the exchange.
The door from the stairwell opened, and Nikolai turned to face the newcomer and the returning adlet. He forced all emotion from his face and switched instantly to a courteous greeting. From the look on her face he was less than successful.
The Devil was part woman, part snake. The precise degree to which snake traits dominated her physiology seemed to shift, sometimes roaming before his very eyes. Currently she walked on two legs, though her skin was coated in scales, and it appeared her arms had begun to shed snakeskin. Her eyes were sharp, unnatural blue with narrow serpentine pupils. Though the rest changed often, the eyes remained the same.
Before she’d earned her nickname, they’d thought she was a nagini–a female naga, but she’d been insulted by the label when an actual naga tribe had come out of the Hudson river to raid New York City. Oddly, she took ‘Devil’ as a complement.
Unknown (alias Cooper, aka the Devil) – Species: Unknown - Lvl 487
Threat Level: Negligible, Non-combatant
Function: Sells information, abilities, and magical items, royal advisor.
Strikes: 13
Alliances: None
Aspects/Abilities: Unknown
The growing list of strikes on the merchant’s record threatened to rekindle his anger, but he forced the feelings down. The Devil was beyond his reach at this stage. Still, the record would be kept and all debts would be paid. A merchant ought to be able to appreciate that.
“You called?” The woman made an appropriately low bow, bending completely at the waste until she’d essentially folded in half. She avoided honorifics. That was perhaps fair. He may be a resident of Omaha, but she was as foreign as it was possible to be, and thus not a subject of its king.
“The spell ‘veracity,’ would it work on a mundane?”
The Devil rolled her eyes. Another strike against her. “As discussed, the names you give your spells are your own. Essentially everything in your interface is your own interpretation and storing of information in whatever way you see fit. Which is one reason no one shares their interface, properly interpreted, it reveals character traits and weaknesses you don’t even know you have.
“Therefore, I don’t have a list or a comprehensive understanding of any abilities, so the strengths and limitations of your abilities remain your own secret, your majesty.” She bowed deeply again, but obsequiousness would not earn her mercy. She may follow the forms, but she clearly thought she could talk down to him.
She continued rambling, undaunted by his growing ire. “However, as to the nature of mundanes, my research has yielded some results. It’s apparently the result of an ambiguous line in the negotiations that opened this peculiar universe for expansion. The wording is not very precise. ‘The natives are not to be killed off prior to fully integrating.’ Context from the discussion makes it clear that this was meant to mean your species should not be eradicated until whatever unique advantages you may possess could be identified and fully exploited. Still for whatever reason it’s being interpreted both literally and individually.
“There’s some interdimensional politics in there, but in essence, you’re not going to change it ever. Consider it a natural law. This law is as immutable as gravity, more actually since magic can’t overrule it. Not directly anyway.”
Nikolai let the merchant ramble. It gave him time to calm down. Even better, it provided invaluable information. How the woman had reached such a high level often baffled him. The snake woman sold information to earn levels, and yet she’d babble away such essential little nuggets. He noted the information and let his interface store it to consider later. If he waited perhaps there would be more. “I see. Go on.”
The woman smiled. “Oh, it’s quite fascinating. I’m now quite certain that the majority of the mana investment into this universe is going into maintaining the survival of tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of lives who should be quite dead. It will choke you and your planet’s growth for generations.”
Nikolai closed his eyes to absorb that. Essentially it would slow his progress, but if his universe remained a backwater, he’d have more time. It’d work out the same either way.
The biggest threat to his plans would be visiting players. It was easy enough to put together some historical analogies, except his whole planet was the ignorant savages trading land for beads and baubles, and the power discrepancy was, if anything, far greater. These people had reached across universes, not just oceans, and their empires spanned multiple cosmos. But he had a plan for that.
“And for you, doesn’t this mean your own profits will be crippled for the foreseeable future?”
The snake woman smiled and bowed. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll make ends meet. A little secret? It’s more lucrative for me when I don’t get paid in mana.”
“So the truth spell–”
“Yes! Right that! Any spell should work so long as it doesn’t specify that the target be living, and or dead, also undead, dying, etcetera. I don’t know what weird things your “biology” allows for, but your myths get pretty wild.” The woman put her hands up and put sarcastic air quotes for the word “biology.” Nikolai took a little mental vacation where he tortured whoever taught her that. In his head it was a young girl, early teens and full of snark–at first anyway.
Nikolai returned to reality. The snake woman stood proud and patient. Nikolai wasn’t entirely sure she could be trusted on this. He would need to verify it worked on some of the slaves. He sighed and mentally allocated his little surplus toward experimentation. For all that she’d insisted she was an information trader and artifact merchant, her little lab now took up three floors, although most of that was cages. It was quite a “hobby.”
He sighed. Now he was doing it.
Red stepped forward, addressing the snake woman. “What about other weaknesses of the Truth aspect? Is there any way to fool the spell?”
The woman smiled. “Magic beats magic.”
Rage exploded in him. Adrenaline surged out of nowhere, and Nikolai threw the adlet into a pillar. He could hear the spinal bones shatter. “You ask her the details of my weakness in front of me? How dare you?” Nikolai’s sword appeared in his hand and the adlet flattened himself on the floor, wriggling like a worm. The sword hovered in the air as Nikolai got his hormones back in line.
That was the problem with being of two minds. There were some excellent advantages that had paid off handsomely. The vampire brain wasn’t particularly adept at logic or higher brain functions, but it could puppet the human brain as easily as it could use its host’s hand. That method was imperfect, but useful. Sometimes the human brain had trouble keeping up, though usually only in regards to paranoia, violence, or food.
The far greater advantage came when the two minds came to an understanding. Unlike the corpse puppets his brethren used, Nikolai didn’t mind losing a little autonomy in exchange for power. Unfortunately, the vampire mind had a far less nuanced threat sensitivity. When it chose to saturate both minds with fear, rage, and adrenaline self-control became impossible, briefly. The vampire brain wasn’t a fool. A brief internal dialog that didn’t really use words saved Red’s life.
The sensations amounted to little more than “Useful tool, child, weak, pathetic, feed, yes, but later, useful tool, useful.”
Nikolai vanished the sword and turned to the snake woman who had open greed in her eyes. Yes, she wanted the blade very much. “If you’re done, I’ll take my payment for services rendered.”
The adlet crawled to his feet and nodded his consent. The payment drained from his chest, just a thin drop of white mana. The adlet fell to the ground.
Apparently his mana banks had been empty, and the mana had come directly from his enhanced body. That could have horrific consequences, but given the quantity it was unlikely to be permanent. The ambient mana would repair it.
“So the only way to defeat truth magic would be some kind of deceit magic.”
The snake woman nodded. “There are dozens of aspects that would qualify. But–”
“But a mundane has no aspect. They’d be helpless.” Nikolai grinned victoriously at Red as he got to his feet.
The adlet looked annoyed. “The boy will cause problems. You should just let me kill him.”
Nikolai’s face hardened, and he stared down the puppy. Clearly the dog’s history with Owen was more significant than he’d have guessed.. Better to squash that before it became an issue.“Did you just suggest killing my adopted son?” The notification arrived unbidden.
Warning: The death of Owen Pyraima will disprove your Prophetic Vision. This will permanently cripple this Aspect and associated powers.
Nikolai’s fist smashed into the stone pillar. He wasn’t strong enough to harm the granite, and the bones of his own hand shattered. The notification echoed in his mind. He did not need the reminder. He did not want the reminder. That prophecy dictated his every move. He’d wanted to know the future, not become its caretaker. Especially that future.