As the darkness of the temple’s interior closed in around him, Ethan’s night vision rune kicked in. Suddenly the room was bathed in a dim light, like that of a full moon with a clear sky. He charged for a set of stairs against the back wall, calling Revan back into his soul as he did so.
If I can just get to the stairwell, I can fight them one at a time. I’ll use my spear to keep some distance, and– A loud thud echoed through the chamber as the doors slammed behind him. Ethan risked a glance back, only to see that he was alone in the room. The fulven hadn’t followed him inside.
He skid to a halt, eyes darting in every direction for dangers. Not only didn’t he find anything, but it was disturbingly quiet inside; he couldn’t even hear the battle outside. “Well, this is troubling,” Ethan said, even his own voice seeming wrong in the quiet tower.
As he breathed in the stale air, he quickly scanned his surroundings. He hadn’t been inside a building of this type before, but immediately it felt off somehow, as if it were a facsimile of the real thing, rather than something actually brought from Earth. For starters, there were complex metal reinforcements in some places, with some wooden sections replaced entirely.
Yet it was also strangely preserved. The wood wasn’t showing signs of rot or age, though every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust. The bottom floor was nearly empty, save for a raised platform which seemed designed to display something long gone.
Despite knowing what was waiting for him outside, Ethan still tried the doors. He pushed with all his strength, throwing his weight behind it. They wouldn’t budge, and he let out a long, resigned sigh. “Of course I’m trapped in here.”
Not wanting to be alone in the unquestionably haunted mystery tower, he tried resummoning Revan. It didn’t work. A moment later he tried again with Deevee. Nothing. “Trapped and alone, only one way to go. Yup, this is definitely how I die.” Resigned, Ethan turned and moved back to the stairs.
Again he was made suspicious of the architecture, as the stairs were also reinforced with more modern techniques. “I don’t even think many of these things had stairs,” Ethan muttered as he made his way to the next floor. He dropped a rift anchor as he did so, just in case, then poked his head up warily as soon as he could see the next landing.
The second floor turned out to be decorated, but devoid of monsters, people, or ghosts. Ethan explored the smaller level, which was covered in tables and shelves. Everywhere he looked he found art, and artifacts, and those he recognized all appeared to be from Earth.
There were relics that may have belonged in the temple, clearly of Japanese origin. Faded paintings, pieces of clothing, urns, each with the distinctive art style of that region. But there were other objects as well. Ethan noticed medieval armor that belonged somewhere in Europe. A stone with hieroglyphics that could have been Egyptian, and even a small hand ax that looked Native American.
“What the hell is this place?” he asked the darkness, then moved to the next floor. He found more of the same, though the rooms were growing progressively smaller. This level held books and scrolls, dinnerware, and cracked wine bottles. There was also a collection of paintings and tapestries, all somewhat familiar.
Ethan briefly considered trying to pry open one of the sealed windows, but after what happened with the doors, he decided that he’d at least get to the top floor before trying to find another way out. That plan in mind–such as it was–he moved to the stairs, and climbed to the fourth floor.
One more to go, he thought as he scanned the room. At last he’d found something different, as it was clearly living quarters. A bed was squeezed into one corner, and there was a mirror, bureau, and low table surrounded by flattened pillows. It was oddly devoid of any personal touch, and so Ethan moved right on to the last floor, steeling his resolve.
He had a dagger in each hand as he crept up the final flight of stairs, reaching the smallest room in the tower. It was nearly empty compared to the lower floors, and strangely it was somehow darker, even with his night vision rune. He slowly stepped into the room, eyes searching for anything that could explain this place.
All he found was a red carpet leading to a small, raised altar, with a faded banner on the wall above it. Lacking other options, Ethan walked toward the altar, which held a small bundle. He could only hope whatever it was would finally solve the riddle of the tower.
Once in front of the altar he went down on one knee, and gently unrolled the white cloth bundle, revealing a sheathed sword. A katana, he thought, though he was no expert. Ethan put away his dagger, and carefully reached for the elaborate red and black handle.
“Saigo No Shudan is not for you, Doctor Bishop,” a deep, echoing voice said.
Ethan jumped back, the sound seeming to come from nowhere, yet somehow all around him at the same time. He glanced around rapidly, and when his gaze went to the left of the shrine, he actually fell backward in surprise and fright. The shadowy figure had certainly not been there a moment before, as it was impossible to miss.
It was humanoid in shape, and slumped backward against the wall, but must have easily been fifteen feet tall when standing. It was wearing what looked like the faded remnants of a dark robe, with long, reptilian limbs sticking out. Their red coloring was just barely visible in the dark room, and Ethan spotted a second set of scaly arms lying limp behind the creature’s back.
It looked ancient. Its flesh was leathery and sagging, and it gave the impression of having been crumpled in this forgotten corner for a long, long time. Its face was mostly hidden under a flat round hat, but Ethan had no doubt the dark figure was completely aware of him. Most of all, he could feel an aura of power and danger so strong it was nearly physical.
Licking his lips against their sudden dryness, Ethan slowly–and as non-threateningly as possible–got back to his feet. “I didn’t come to steal anything,” he said, suddenly glad he hadn’t seen anything of obvious value on the lower floors. When the voice didn’t respond, he continued. “I haven’t seen anyone else, did you let me in here?”
“Yes,” the voice said, and again it felt more like it came from all around Ethan, rather than from the strange being collapsed in the corner of the room, lost in shadows. When it supplied no more information, Ethan prompted it with another question.
“The sword, you said it doesn’t belong to me.” Ethan decided not to address how the creature knew his name, or worse, his identity as a doctor just yet. “Do you know who it does belong to?”
“It belongs to the descendant’s of my master’s clan,” the voice replied.
Ethan considered what he’d seen in the tower. The collection of relics, the Dimensional Bleed, and of course, the tower itself. It belongs to the descendants of its master, not the master itself, he noted. “Was your master from Earth? From Terra?”
“He was from your world,” the voice answered simply.
Just a remarkable conversationalist, this one. “Alright. You call him ‘master’, were you his Familiar?”
“I was. The others have moved on. I stay. I am loyal.”
“Loyal? What do you mean?” Ethan asked. “Are you supposed to protect this tower?”
“Not the tower. Just the sword. His legacy. It belongs to the descendant’s of my master’s clan.”
“Right…so you said. So why did you let me in?” Ethan asked.
“When you came near, I could taste the energy of my master’s home on you. And that of my own.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Your own? What do you mean?”
He fell back another step as the creature suddenly reached up with a long-fingered hand, removing its unusual hat. The face was reminiscent of an enormous lizard, though curved horns reached forward from its brow, while sharp teeth curved down over its lips. Together they gave it a more draconic appearance. With a start, Ethan realized why the creature felt familiar, and he began moving slowly toward the exit.
The stairs were gone.
“We are not done speaking,” the demon said, though its mouth didn’t move. “You came to this world through Potentia, like my master did.”
Ethan sighed, not answering right away. He was trapped, ludicrously underpowered, and in a room with a giant demon that wanted to have a chat. Fine, he thought, then strode back to the center of the room with nonchalance. Because screw this guy.
“Yes, I was in Potentia,” he answered in his confident doctor’s voice. “Is that where the two of you met?”
“Indeed. He was well suited to my world, though it was killing him all the same. He slayed many of my kind, but I thought myself more clever. I used my illusions against him, so confident, but he saw through them all. I was not so capable then.”
“Your illusions? So that’s what we’ve been dealing with all day?” The massive demon nodded slowly. “And did you read his mind as well?” Ethan prompted.
“I do not read minds. I read souls. Yours lacks protection,” the voice answered.
Ethan considered that. Valanor told me it was possible, it stands to reason there’d be someone better at it than him. “So you followed this man who killed your kind? Called him master?”
“My kind are ever drawn to power. So yes, I followed him. He fascinated me, and I him. Seeing that my world would soon destroy him, I brought him to another rift, and we entered Nexum together.”
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Ethan gave the demon an assessing look. “Not to be rude, but I’ve been told that demons are uniformly violent and ruthless. Is that not the case?”
The figure made an odd sound, some combination of a rumble and a hiss. “It is very much the case. It is the core of who we are. But in time, my master taught me to rise above my stifling nature. It was through that effort that we were able to Bond.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “He Bonded a demon? I didn’t realize that was even possible.”
“Possible, but difficult. A demon must remain on Nexum for a considerable time to earn such a gift. That is not easy without being Hunted down and killed.”
“Right…Hunters. Sorry about that, I guess?”
“You are not sorry, and you needn’t be. It is the way,” the demon said.
“Okay, well no offense or anything, but now what? The group I came with is probably still outside, fighting an endless wave of fulven.”
“They are not without end, and your people fight well. I will no longer be able to send the pack to hunt for me.”
“So you do control them. How’s that possible?” Ethan asked.
The demon seemed to consider before answering. “I am…of the Mystic Affinity. There are few in this world who share this power; it is more common on Potentia. Illusions, mental manipulations, conjurations. With these tools I have carried out my task for centuries.”
“Centuries? You’ve just been sitting here for that long?”
The large head nodded slowly. “I will protect my master’s legacy for as long as I am able. I will honor the request he made before he took his own life.”
“Before he what?” Ethan said, having found himself surprisingly invested in this mysterious man from his world. “Why would he do that?”
The demon was silent for a moment, the black eyes seeming to look through Ethan. “My master traveled this world, searching for a way home. He did not find it. He gained power, influence, and friends, but none of it could bring him what he truly desired. He collected the relics you saw in the floors below, finding more and more proof that the worlds are connected, but no path between them.”
Ethan felt a rational part of himself battling a stubborn part upon hearing that news. “Your master decided there was no way home,” he whispered in a dejected voice.
The reptilian head nodded. “And so he chose to end his existence. He had lived many lifetimes, and achieved much–on two worlds. But he felt his time had passed.”
“Wait, lifetimes? Is that a metaphor?” Ethan asked.
“Simple truth. As Bonds grow stronger and the spirit with it, a longer lifespan is but a small fraction of the power to be gained.”
Ethan shook his head, knowing this wasn’t the time to process that revelation. Instead he looked around the miserable little room. “So all that age, all that wisdom, all that time together, and he just left you here? To watch over his shit?”
“To protect his legacy. ‘My legacy belongs to my successor’, he told me. I vowed to see that it was so delivered.”
Ethan took a breath, looking from the sword, to the enormous demon. “So now what?” he asked.
“You are not of his people. He thought he might find them here, in this land. But while they looked like those he knew, they were not his people either.”
“You mean Japanese?” he asked, thinking of the tower and the katana. “I noticed people with East-Asian features, but nothing of the culture.”
“My master drew the same conclusions. These may have been his people once, but if so, too much time has passed, and they have forgotten themselves. He could sense the Dimensional Bleed in these mountains, however. We found this ruined temple, and he restored it, grateful to have a small taste of home.”
“Well, if you’re waiting for his descendants, I don’t think it’s likely to happen. The odds that anyone from Earth would find this place have to be astronomically low. That it would be someone from his clan…”
“You are correct, and I know this. It is why I needed to judge you.”
Ethan felt the fickle touch of hope. “So…do I get the sword?”
The huge, black eyes narrowed. “You do not. You are not a worthy successor. You are a lie.”
Ethan’s face fell at the unexpected recrimination. “That’s a new, and creative insult.”
“But not an inaccurate assessment, it would seem. I have looked at your soul, Ethan Bishop. You are not what you present to the world.”
Anger rose up. “I’m a healer–on Nexum. You’re a demon, and you have to know about the Church. You can’t possibly blame me for hiding that.”
The demon snorted. “You are not a healer. Healers only need to heal. You desire power, and control. You hide your intentions, your beliefs. You are not what you let others believe you are,” the demon said.
He didn’t answer right away, still adjusting to the sudden turn. “People see what they want to see,” Ethan countered, his voice growing quiet and more serious with every word. “They hear what they want to hear.”
“No,” the demon countered, “people see what you want them to see. They hear what you want them to hear.”
Ethan barked a laugh. “Oh perfect, a demon who took a first year psych class. You’re even more terrifying than I thought.”
The rumbling hiss echoed through the room again. Was that laughter? “You doubt my words, Ethan Bishop? Tell me then, what did you say to the King? How did you buy back your life?”
Ethan glared. “What does that have–”
“You stood before him, a thief doomed to die. The question was why you deserve to live. What question did you make him answer?”
Ethan’s voice went flat. “It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“It absolutely matters, it speaks to who you truly are,” the demon countered. “You stole his son’s future. You put his kingdom at risk. He’d already sentenced you to die, and what was your defense?” There was a pause, but Ethan refused to play the game.
The demon answered for him. “You made your own fate a question of whether the king trusted his son,” the demon growled. “You twisted the situation. Played with their minds, fooled them into losing a game they didn’t know they were playing.”
The massive head leaned forward. “You are a knife in the dark, Ethan Bishop. You strike where they least expect. You lead them into ambushes. You set traps. You let them defeat themselves with pride or purpose, but you use them all the same.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ethan said simply.
“Do I not? What of the shield knight then? A man of the church, his life torn apart by your actions. Now you let him stand between you and every threat. He would give his life for your own, and yet you are everything he has been raised to hate and despise.”
“Am I?” Ethan countered, his anger rising. “A minute ago I wasn’t a healer, but I am when it proves your point?”
Again, the eerie laugh. “Will you use your hidden weapons on me now, Ethan Bishop? Will you turn my words against me? Make me doubt myself? Doubt my hundreds of years of loyalty for your own ends? Will you take everything I am from me, as you did to the knight?”
Again, Ethan looked around the drab little room. He turned from the oppressive emptiness to the massive creature, sitting in its dark corner, throwing its dark words. “Yes,” he answered, then walked up right in front of the demon.
“Because your life is the lie.” The creature stared at him, silent, waiting. “You bring up Valanor, and you’re right. I am making a mockery of his faith, because it’s a faith that deserves ridicule. And so is yours.”
He began pacing, gesturing at the bland surroundings. “Look around you. This is the life you’ve chosen for centuries? A dark, miserable hole. Alone and forgotten, thinking you need to look after a sword for a dead man. You’re so lost you can’t even see the obvious truth.”
“And what truth is that, Ethan Bishop?” the voice whispered. “What truth will the liar expose?”
Ethan stepped closer. “That you are the legacy. Your master may not have understood what you were when he brought you into this world, but he absolutely did before he left it. How powerful are you, Twilight rank? Master? What devastation would you cause if you were left to roam this world unchecked? How long would your enlightened nature have lasted without him?”
Ethan moved even closer, making sure the creature was looking into his eyes. “Your turn, see if you can look at your own truths,” he challenged. “How quickly would you have lost yourself without his guidance? Without his leash? What did you need in order to hold on to a scrap of the discipline and meaning he gave you?”
The demon watched him for a long time, as if trying to resist answering. “I needed purpose,” the voice said at last, more quietly than before.
“You needed purpose,” Ethan repeated, and then his tone changed, becoming sympathetic, and soft. “And so he gave it to you. One final gift, from the master that cared for you. With his last request, he allowed you to remain who you are, for as long as that purpose was yours.”
The demon lowered its head, silent. Ethan got to one knee, so he could still look the creature in the eye. “You’re not sure what to believe, and the truth is that I don’t know. I never knew your master, only you did. So it comes down to one question that only you can answer.
“Your master may have doomed you to suffer in darkness, guarding a sword that would never be claimed–an undeniably cruel fate. Or he may have given you a chance to be yourself for as long as possible, to hold on to what you had worked so hard to become–a final act of kindness. So tell me, demon, was your master a selfish man, or a good one?”
The moments ticked by in silence, but Ethan stayed where he was. Finally the massive creature looked back up. “You did it to me,” it whispered.
Ethan grinned and stood up. “I told you I would. You can choose to see it however you’d like. Maybe I twisted the situation to meet my own ends, maybe I just look at things in a way you’re not used to. I like to believe that I just get to the heart of a matter.”
The demon let out the hissing laugh again. “Your smile is still a lie.”
Ethan’s grin didn’t slip, but his tone was serious once more. “My father used to say something to me. ‘Life is either a comedy or a tragedy. The same shit happens either way, the only difference is whether you laugh or cry.’ I’ll choose to laugh every time, until I can’t anymore.”
The demon tilted its head, examining him. “My master would have hated you, knife in the dark,” the demon said. “But I find that perhaps, I do not.”
“So did I do it then? Do I get the sword?”
The demon moved its large head to slowly look from Ethan to the sword, then back again. Finally it spoke once more. “My master was a good man. You will receive his legacy.”
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Disabled [Unknown Rarity] Eidolon detected!
Onitomo is attempting to form a True Bond. Accept? (Y/N)
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