AREA AWAKENING
Reality shifted, causing the otherwise large building to grow even more, to the point it encompassed a world. Columns the size of towers rose all the way to the clouds, where more structures formed. Fields and forests spread to the horizon like a giant carpet, interrupted by structure-like mountains and mile-tall statues.
You are in the land of GRAND CITADEL
The land’s destiny has been fulfilled.
Fulfilled? That meant that the realm’s ultimate level had been reached. Dallion knew that many things in the world had finite levels, but for an area to reach its cap, it must have been improved hundreds of times.
Thousands of stars sparkled above on a sky that was both sky and ceiling.
“Welcome, visitor.” a human made of purple light emerged a few feet away from Dallion. “Welcome to the Grand Citadel. I am Xelenius Bran and will be your guide.”
The entity was dressed in a set of clothes that mirrored the epitome of high European fashion of the late Renaissance, from the buckled shoes to the ruff and funny hat.
GRAND CITADEL PROTECTOR - XELENIUS BRAN
Species: HUMAN
Class: MAGIC
Health: 100%
Traits:
- BODY 70
- MIND 90
- REACTION 64
- PERCEPTION 57
- MAGIC 42
Skills:
- ATTACK
- GUARD
- ATHLETICS
- ACROBATICS
- SCHOLAR
- ARTS
- SPELLCRAFT
Weakness: NONE
A protector? Dallion wondered, looking at the entity’s rectangle. Apparently, the archbishop was beyond using echoes for guides and caretakers.
“How can you guide me?” Dallion asked.
“I can direct you to all the knowledge stored within the citadel. The realm is vast and connected to thousands of other realms, all focused on various fields. A single eternity won’t be enough to explore everything there is.”
“Then how do you know?”
“I am only familiar with a small section of the realm. Besides, I have spent more than one eternity within these walls.” Xelenius let out an annoying chuckle.
Another human voluntarily banished to be a servant of the Order.
“Where can I learn more about the Architect?” Dallion asked.
“The citadel has a vast number of architectural styles, including the fabled one of Earth.” The protector turned around in the direction of a distant mountain. As he did, the giant structure quickly approached, as if someone had pulled it to their current location. “The protector of that library will guide you in—”
“Not architecture,” Dallion interrupted. “I want to know more about the Architect—the person who created the world.”
Xelenius blinked. Dallion could feel the confusion emanating from him.
“The Seven Moons created the world,” he said after a few seconds of hesitation.
Only Seven Moons? For someone who boasted that the citadel contained all knowledge, there were a few vital but glaring omissions. Regardless if they were true or not, Dallion had seen and heard several theories regarding the Eight Moon and the Architect. The only reason for them to be absent was if the archbishop had deliberately purged the information. Why would he, though?
“What about the Crippled Star?”
The mountain structure instantly zoomed away, replaced by a new one.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“All known information regarding the fourteen major Stars and all the minor ones,” the protector said with a note of disgust. “I would recommend not reading them. The tomes only contain sad tales of corruption and desperation.”
At least that’s here. Dallion felt mildly curious to see the archbishops’ prophecies on the matter. One was yet to emerge, if he was to be believed and since it wasn’t Adzorg or the Emperor, there was no telling who it might end up being.
“Do you have forging blueprints?”
Yet again, the mountain was switched with a new one.
“Everything from common items to masterpiece weapons,” the guide said. The smile was still on his face, but his inner emotions let Dallion know that he was getting tired of the persistent indecision.
“Does that include living armor?”
“Living armor, missiles, Earthbound weapons. I must warn you that the creation process is rather dangerous and requires vast amounts of awakened resources.”
“I know.” Dallion said, walking past the protector. “I’ll tell you when I want something else.”
The main reason Dallion wanted to check that out wasn’t because he wanted to increase his knowledge—although there was that too—but because he needed to see what he was up against. With someone as self-confident as the archbishop, there was every chance that he had left everything on display to demonstrate his power.
More importantly, the instant spent in the awakened realm of the citadel gave Dallion time to think about how to proceed. Whatever the real reason was, the archbishop refused to attack anyone directly, despite having the overwhelming advantage of foresight. For that reason, he needed Dallion as an ally.
One potential possibility was for him to be bound by a Moon vow or promise to the deities. Back when Dallion had to repay Felygn’s boon, a number of things were out of bounds. Who was to say that the archbishop hadn’t received his clairvoyance, and that was part of the price?
What do you think, Harp? Dallion mentally asked. Can the archbishop simply be a coward?
No, the nymph replied. Cowards don’t become domain rulers.
I know a lot of people who’d prove you wrong.
They have become deformed due to their own ambition, but none of them are cowards. No one with such deep flaws can cross the fifth gate.
Unconvinced, Dallion entered the massive structure, finding himself in a new realm. This one had the clear markings of an item, which by no means diminished the number of scrolls and books that were to be found. A network of interconnected rooms flowed in all directions. Only someone capable of flight would have the capability of exploring it adequately.
A new purple protector emerged—this time a stern woman in a Victorian gown—offering to assist Dallion in his search. She was quickly dismissed as he cast a flight spell and proceeded to learn on his own.
Hours passed, then days. Even before Dallion found the section of the living armor blueprints, he had taken a while stopping here and there. There were blueprints for harpsiswords, origami weapons, aether weapons, even purely awakened weapons; bows made solely of music—intangible in the real world, but incredibly versatile in the realms. Thinking about it, the original skill weapons had been just that. Judging by the diary scroll accompanying the blueprint, a master forger had dedicated close to a century to achieve such a feat. His achievement had been acknowledged, celebrated, and locked away in the grand citadel, while the knowledge itself had been erased from the world.
Discoveries more beautiful and dangerous than those of the first Star filled this small auxiliary realm to the brim. How much was there in the rest of the citadel and all the realms it was linked to?
Veil, can you see this? Dallion asked. To his surprise, there was no response.
Somewhat concerned, he called out to Adzorg, Gleam, his familiars, even the domain guardians of his realms. Each time, the result was the same—deafening silence.
Harp? he asked.
Yes? The nymph instantly responded.
I can’t talk to anyone in my realm.
That’s strange. I can.
Does Gen sense anything?
He says he can read your thoughts as usual, but is unable to talk to you.
It made sense that the archbishop would block the link between a visitor and his realm. That way he could be certain that the knowledge gathered for millennia would remain safe. Why had he allowed Dallion to talk to his harpsisword, though? Was it to show off? A “friendly warning” of his power? Or maybe it was something completely different.
Reaching forward, Dallion attempted to summon his harpsisword. His hand remained empty.
“Having fun, archbishop?” Dallion asked.
“Just because I let you explore my citadel doesn’t mean you’d remain unsupervised.” The nymph’s voice morphed into that of the archbishop. “No harm, no foul.”
This was the second time that the Order of the Seven Moons impersonated someone within Dallion’s realm. The previous time, it was Diroh’s echo. Now it was Giaccia.
“Now, after you’ve enjoyed a sample of my collection, have you come to a decision?” An echo of the archbishop emerged in the air, floating a few steps away from Dallion.
“What happens once he’s removed?” Dallion readied his fingers in case he had to quickly cast a spell. “Specifically.”
“The world will witness his fall at the hands of the new champion of the people—Abla Tamin. You’ll be mentioned as well, naturally. However, most of the spotlight will be on Abla.”
“And in the process, Abla will be replaced by a copyette.”
“It’s not like I’ll kill him. He’ll live out the rest of his days in joy, calm, and luxury. With or without his original memories—whatever he chooses. It won’t be the first time it’s happened.” The archbishop’s tone darkened. “A truce will be established between the empire and the Order, after which everything will continue pretty much as before.”
“Only with you in control.”
“You seem to think that I enjoy doing this.” The faintest strand of sadness resonated in the echo’s voice. “How long have you been at it? Five years? A bit more? You probably still feel the thrill of it all—the sensation that your actions have saved the world, or made things better in some small aspect. After a few decades, things will start fading away.”
“Let me guess.” Dallion’s pinky finger moved, starting to cast a spell. Its position was such that the archbishop didn’t have direct sight. “I’ll become the next Star?”
“I told you, the Star isn’t the worst thing that could happen. Tamin killed three Stars.”
For a split second, Dallion’s pinky stopped moving. The emperor killed a Star? Several even?
“Yes, he saved the world as well, helped his people, fell in love. And look at him now—disgusted with the world he once loved, seeing no other choice but to recreate it. Tallia still has the drive, but would you trust anyone who’s spent an eternity in the banished realm?” The sensation of sadness grew. It wasn’t just sadness anymore, but also exhaustion. “My exaltation happened eighty-seven years after the fall of Erakol. I only saw remnants of its glory. For decades I fought monsters of the wilderness, cultists, even the Star. It was then that I had my first distant prophecy and knew that if the world were to survive, it would need an overseer. Someone who could see everything and intervene when needed.”
“You just described what the emperor is doing.” The summoning spell was almost complete. There was a good chance that the realm had some sort of protection preventing a standard summon. Using a few threads from the Moonstone would make it possible, though.
“You’re right. I made the same mistake the emperor made now. The world survived by a thread and no thanks to me. That’s why I don’t want to see history repeat.” The archbishop’s face lost all expression. “Even if it means fighting you to prove it.”
A spell circle formed near Dallion’s hand, letting him reach in and pull out his harpsisword. Simultaneously, an eight-foot staff of Moon platinum appeared in the archbishop’s hands.
COMBAT INITIATED
Both weapons ripped the air, flashing one against the other in a blow that made the air tremble. The library realm split in eight, each part moving away from the two awakened, ensuring that no knowledge would be lost in the duel.
The weapons clashed again. Clusters of music strands burst out from the vibration, each trying to surround and wrap the other.
Magic! Dallion thought, casting another summon spell with his free hand. Right now, that was his greatest advantage.
“Smart move forcing me to fight here,” the archbishop said, spinning his staff in front of him like a propeller blade. “I’d never risk harming the knowledge.”
“It’s not me who forced you do this!” Dallion pushed forward with a multi attack, each strike blocked by the staff.
“Yes, you did. I watched you react thousands of different ways in my prophecies. In all the times we didn’t fight, your resolve wavered, leaving the emperor to win. This is the only way to earn your respect and prove my determination.”