The bodies in the corner formed a macabre pile of mismatched races–elves, beastfolk, dwarves, and others I couldn't identify, stacked unceremoniously against the wall. Their personal belongings were gone, leaving their ritualistic stab wounds–dead center in their chests–exposed like grim trophies.
My stomach twisted as the stench hit me, sharp and overwhelming. Fighting back a gag, I stepped closer. “Any ideas what this is about? Or why I didn’t see it earlier?”
Time hummed thoughtfully. There are traces of magic here, two kinds: dark and illusion. Given the king’s abilities, it would seem his powers–largely control-based–affected you, though not to the extent he intended.
I thought back to when I’d first examined this room. I’d known something was wrong, could feel it in the air, but there hadn’t been anything tangible to act on. To think that bastard king’s power had been strong enough to hide this, even without fully controlling me…
I shook the thought aside and turned my attention to the symbols on the floor. “Do you recognize these?” Maybe they could give us a clue about what the bastard had summoned.
Silence stretched before Time sighed. Some are familiar, but not all. The swirl on the northern curve is common for summoning rituals, while the mark beneath your feet means ‘of another realm’.
I stepped back instinctively, studying the marks with wary eyes. “So, it could be anything from outside Nexus. That’s…great.” Pressing my fingers to the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. “I didn’t think mortals could access that kind of power. With spirits, it makes sense.”
Spirits didn’t have mortal shells to limit their capabilities–no fragile bodies to burn out.
Time’s disgust radiated through the bond. Ordinarily, it would be impossible. A mortal, even one pacted to a spirit, has finite mana and stamina. Their body would fail long before completing such a spell…unless they used sacrifices to fuel it.
My gaze flicked back to the bodies in the corner, and the unfairness welled hot and heavy in my chest.“It shouldn’t surprise me that slime like him would stoop this low. He threw a child onto the battlefield to save his own skin. What’s a few dozen strangers to him?”
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The memory of the king’s smug face, his utter lack of care, burned fresh in my mind. He was lucky he’d been too dangerous to keep alive. He’d deserved far worse than what he got.
I agree, Time said softly, his voice twinged with sorrow. And knowing my wife, she would as well. But life is seldom fair. These people have been avenged; there is nothing more to be done for them now. Unfortunately, the symbols offer little to work with. It is useless to linger here. Time’s words pulled me back to the present, and I turned away, grateful for any excuse to leave the rot-soaked room.
“Are there any spirits who might recognize those symbols?” I asked, carefully checking each corridor as I made my way toward what I hoped were the king’s quarters. The halls were growing more opulent, every step bringing me closer to the ornate excess I’d expect from a ruler like him.
Where before the halls led me in circles, now it was almost a straight line. Probably another example of that prick’s power…
The spirit of Mana itself may know, Time replied, his voice heavier now, tinged with weariness. But I will need to rest before I can contact them. With any luck, Karma will recover faster and reach out to Mana on our behalf.
A flicker of concern stirred in me, and I directed my thoughts inward. Are you alright? You sound like shit, and it’s getting worse.
Dry amusement rippled through his response. Your honesty borders on rudeness. But yes, I will be fine–once I take mortal form.
That raised a question I’d been meaning to ask. Why haven’t you done that yet? The king’s dead. We’re past the worst of it. All that was left was leg work and information gathering, which shouldn’t require him being incorporeal.
Time didn’t respond immediately, and by the time he spoke again, I’d reached a set of massive wooden doors. I checked that the hallway was clear, then slipped inside, shutting the doors softly behind me.
Once we were secure, Time answered, his tone grim. When I take mortal form, I will be as vulnerable to harm as any other mortal. Given we are still inside our enemy’s stronghold, it could be argued that becoming mortal now would be a mistake.
I hadn’t really thought about what ‘taking corporeal form’ meant for him, but now my stomach turned uneasily.
Please tell me you at least know how to use a weapon.
He scoffed. I have never needed such knowledge. Spirits cannot kill. Even in a mortal shell, that limitation will remain.
Of course. Why would things ever be easy? That left us with two people who didn’t know how to fight, no armor, and a mess of Silas’s generals still to deal with. None of them had been charmed into service, according to the king, and all had powers strong enough to match his. Perfect, just…perfect.