By the time we reluctantly left the hot spring, it was still early enough that a vampire would have only just begun to think about climbing into their coffin for the day. Given that Hiward was far to the west of us, it was even earlier in the kingdom. We didn’t feel enough time pressure to interrupt anyone’s rest to make our reappearance, which gave us a few hours to kill.
Xim spent the time in the sensory deprivation chamber communing with Sam’lia. She would head to the Third Layer in only a few hours, but she wanted to play with her new toy, provide Grotto with theological guidance, and get a headstart on asking Sam’lia about the Dread Star and the Wand of Boundless Night.
Varrin, Nuralie, and I worked on cloning the Corvite Slab. The process was, at its heart, a form of alchemy involving essence work and transmutation. Prior to Grotto entering the god tub, he refined all of our Abbantite ore into the metal Abbandium with a wave of his feeler. This was an effect of his Industrial Transmutation passive, which he failed to explain before leaving to float in darkness and saltwater alongside our cleric.
Abbandium could change its shape according to its user's will, making it the most conceptually aligned material we possessed for use with the Greater Mimicry essences. It was also a substance that the grimoire had extensive notes on, which wasn’t a surprise since the items both dropped from The Pit and had thematically similar names.
Nuralie shaped the material into a slab the same size as Varrin’s Corvite, formed around a small scraping of the original. She then took an alarming amount of the big guy’s blood and placed his single diamond chip into a small cauldron alongside the other components.
She held the Abandoned Grimoire open in one hand as she converted the Mimicry essences with the other, reciting a series of phrases in an archaic form of Losonbinora as the familiar Mimic goo dripped down onto the Abbandium. There was a small lightshow as the essence absorbed the diamond chip, a mysterious gust of chill wind rustled our hair and clothes, and a rising crescendo of dark, eldritch whispers filled our minds. It was some classic dark-magic scares. A bit on the nose, honestly. I was half expecting a demon-infested corpse to jump out at us.
“Groovy,” I said as my Sage Advice evolution activated, giving Nuralie a massive boost to her Alchemy skill… somehow. The loson channeled her entire mana pool into the transmutation.
When she pulled out the cloned slab, it was identical, even sharing the same item description. There were no qualifiers showing that it was a copied item. Our dupe glitch had been entirely successful, and all it had cost was 5 irreplaceable essences, several pounds of a never-before-seen metal, and a chip valuable enough to buy a beach-side ultramodern resort villa within spitting distance of Castle Dukgrien.
Afterward, I opened my Checkpoint to Eschengal and Nuralie set out to deliver the letter from the Littan duchess Isabel Ruiz, with Etja along for the ride. The portal startled several merchants who had set themselves up alongside the road into Eschendur’s capital. I stepped out to buy a few dozen pastries from a shaken Deijinin and intentionally overpaid for the tasty treats by an order of magnitude.
Once it was around breakfast time in Hiward, I opened the Checkpoint to the Xor’Drel tribe, and the trunk of the massive Irgriana tree in the middle of the village came into view. Varrin and Xim both left through this portal since the layer transition from Xor’Drel to the First Layer would place Varrin within a minute's flight of the Ravvenblaq manor. A group of tribe members quickly crowded around, their bodies and clothing as diverse as a world summit taking place inside a fever dream.
Xim’s parents, Drel’gethed and Xorna, appeared soon after and had a tearful reunion with their daughter. They’d held out hope after our disappearance, receiving hints that we still lived during their prayers to Sam’lia. I received a rib-breaking hug from Xorna that lasted until Drel was forced to peel the woman off of me.
HP: 1898 -> 1799
Both of Xim’s parents had risen to level 20, and I suspected her mother had placed most of her new stats into Strength. The couple wanted to host a return feast, but unfortunately, I had to remain inside the Closet when the portal would close an hour later. The Closet’s normal exit traveled with me and was currently set within the Littan fortress. If the Checkpoint closed while I was inside the Third Layer, it would reset the entrance to the Xor’Drel tribe lands. I could still access Eschengal and we could travel from there, but we’d already promised the Littans our return via the dungeon-like portal room. It wouldn’t do to start breaking our word before we’d even established friendly relations.
Khigra also showed up, giving me a less painful hug than Xorna, and asked me a few questions about how Somncres had been performing. It reminded me of the warhammer’s fourth effect, which I wanted to take advantage of immediately.
Khigra may imbue this item with an additional effect once you reach your next Intelligence evolution.
Since I’d made it to INT 40 and snagged another evo, my hammer could get an upgrade. Khigra was more than pleased to make the modification and even give the hammer an overall upgrade since I could now handle much higher stat requirements. We spent most of our 20 minutes discussing potential improvements. The end result couldn’t be fully controlled, so the conversation was centered around ideas more than specifics. The hammer would improve based on its concepts of Growth and Void, but the dream forger’s work would help guide it to align with my intent.
Khigra also told me that, despite her enthusiasm for undergoing further ‘training’ with me, she’d recently entered into a committed polyamorous triad. She was very kind about it, although I hadn’t said anything to prompt the topic. I hadn’t been planning on renewing our fling, so it saved me the trouble of an awkward conversation and made it easier to set aside any temptation to find an easy outlet for my sexy-time needs.
I was looking for something a bit more fulfilling, but I had just spent months sequestered in a Delve with a group of extremely attractive people who possessed a supernatural level of self-control. There was no explicit agreement for intraparty celibacy, but it hadn’t really come up. Not yet, anyway. Then again, it’s not like I knew what everyone else was doing at all times. Nor did I feel any need to know. They were all adults, and I wasn’t their daddy.
…
At any rate, my conversation with Khigra was cut short when a pillar of crimson fire descended from the sky. A motherly woman in a royal-blue dress appeared, her body adorned with a few pieces of bone jewelry and her flowing red hair glistening like fresh blood.
All of the Xor’Drel tribe members–aside from myself–knelt at the appearance of the Goddess of the Seven Organs, Sam’lia. She looked around at the gathering with a warm smile.
“I appreciate the gesture,” she said. “But please rise, everyone.” The Xor’Drels slowly got to their feet, many wearing reverent looks of awe. Sam’lia approached Xim, whose eyes sparkled with joy as her patron goddess touched her shoulder. “Xim Xor’Drel. I am overjoyed that you’ve returned, although I had full confidence that you would survive the trials you faced.”
“Thank you, Dark Mother,” Xim said. “Your power was a constant beacon, and my faith a lantern in the dark.”
Sam’lia tapped her cleric on the chin.
“You’re always so formal,” she said, then placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t ever speak to anyone else that way.”
“I save it all up for you,” Xim said with a grin. “It’s exhausting.”
“I bet,” said the goddess. “Here, I have a gift for you.”
Sam’lia reached out and placed her thumb against Xim’s forehead. Her cleric’s eyes began to glow, growing brighter until dark-red flames poured from her sockets. A 6-foot-wide halo of fire erupted behind Xim, the ring’s center pulsing with white-hot power. Xim rose a foot off the ground, her dark and curly hair transitioning to garnet, then rising toward the sky like molten blood with a grudge against gravity.
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A few seconds passed before the effect ended, and Xim released a long breath as her feet touched the ground.
“Gods above,” she whispered, eyes wide. She looked over at me. “Finally got a movement ability.”
“Yeah?” I said. “I’m betting it does some other things as well.”
“A couple,” she said, brushing a lock of hair from her face. She was flushed, even redder than normal. “I think I’ll let it be a surprise for you.”
“Sounds like contrived suspense, but okay.” I gave her a wink, and she stuck out her tongue at me. It was a very mature exchange between grown-up adults.
“As for you, Arlo,” said Sam’lia, closing the distance between us with a single step. I blinked while my mind failed to comprehend how it had happened. Her eyes ran over the inside of the Closet behind me, then met my own. “I believe you have something for me?”
I nodded and opened my inventory, bringing up the Wand of Boundless Night. I hesitated, hand hovering near the screen as I looked around at the gathering of mundane individuals. Insofar as anyone from the Third Layer could be considered ‘mundane’. The wand’s description strongly discouraged exposing it to anyone who wasn’t supernaturally inclined. Sam’lia understood my reluctance and took my hand.
“I will contain it,” she said.
A field of Divine power surrounded us, and I plucked the wand from storage. I felt the familiar pressure on my soul, but it was the barest touch, rather than a suffocating force. There were a few gasps from those gathered, and several people took a step back. Sam’lia’s protection didn’t fully suppress the experience of the wand, but it didn’t look like anyone was about to collapse or go catatonic. If someone had been deleted from existence, I’d never know.
Sam’lia accepted the wand and turned it from side to side, studying it. She held her hand out palm up, and the wand floated above it, tip pointed toward the sky. The length of the dark, baton-like item cracked, and it began to deteriorate. Splinters of wood flaked away from the want and disintegrated into the air. Soon, all that was left behind was a black pearl, which had been housed in its center.
As I peered into the pearl, I felt a thousand perspectives flood my mind. I saw a gray realm from myriad angles in which time slowed to a crawl, its influence reaching out and freezing everything around me. Motes of dust hung in the air, suspended like sediment in honey while the villagers became unmoving statues.
Sam’lia frowned and tilted her head.
“Hello children,” she said softly into the pearl. “Who has been trying to let you out?”
She turned her ear to the pearl, listening to a thousand hissing screams that replied, their cries no louder than autumn leaves fluttering to the ground. She looked back into the pearl and sighed.
“You still cannot restrain your hunger,” she said, forlorn. Then she muttered, “Everything you eat disappears, so how could you ever be full?” She narrowed her eyes. “No. You no longer belong here.”
All at once, the screams were silenced.
Time accelerated until it returned to normal. The pearl hung suspended over Sam’lia’s palm, now so pitch black that it appeared like a two-dimensional hole in space.
“This is a Reality Anchor,” she said, looking up at me. “It was bound to the Second Layer, but only through a pinhole portal. The breach had drawn the attention of entities I’d banished there long ago. Thankfully, they could not pass through, or the consequences would have been more severe.”
I recognized the term, Reality Anchor. The Cage had been an extradimensional space linked to Arzia through such a device. Orexis had destabilized it by shoving a void sphere inside. Reality Anchors were also listed in my ability description for my Checkpoint evolution to Dimensional Magic.
A Checkpoint portal may remain open for up to 1 hour and may be traversed by anyone. Closing a Checkpoint portal requires 60 seconds of concentration. Permanent Checkpoint portals, or Checkpoint portals with entrance and exit restrictions, require a Reality Anchor.
“I was forcefully taken to the Second Layer once,” I said. Yaretzi had unwisely trapped me there with his Thunderdome spell, forcing a fight to the death to escape. “It looked lifeless. You’re saying there are creatures there that you gave birth to?”
“Yes. However, I will say nothing more about their existence. The more you know about them, the easier it is for them to find you.”
Given that detail, the fact that she’d mentioned them at all in front of so many people seemed a bit cavalier, but I noticed that several conversations were going on around us, though I couldn’t hear anything being said. It seemed our talk was being contained.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bury my curiosity and never speak of them to anyone.”
“I’m glad you’re quick,” Sam’lia said. She held the Reality Anchor out to me. “I’ve purged the connection, and the Anchor is no longer bound. I believe you can use it to improve your personal realm.”
I accepted the pearl, which dropped into my palm, its surface slick and cold. I quickly placed it into my inventory, fearing it would slide right out of my hand if I wasn’t careful.
“There is one more thing I would like to chat about,” said Sam’lia.
“The Dread Star,” I guessed.
“Yes.” She stepped forward and placed a hand on my chest, gazing up into my eyes. “Arlo, as you are now, my existence is so vast that it is impossible for you to grasp.”
“Er, okay?” Her hand was very warm, bordering on hot.
“The Dread Star is to me as I am to you. Do you understand?”
“I think you just told me that’s literally impossible.”
“Good,” she said, patting my chest and dropping her arm. “I have no idea how or why the Dread Star has taken interest in you, but it is not a malevolent being. Still, when a person bathes, they hold no animosity toward the bacteria they scour.”
“Right.”
“Be considerate of what questions you ask,” she continued. “There are truths that would wash you away, leaving nothing behind. Other than that, feel free to commune with it. Just… don’t do it here. I’d rather not draw the Dread Star’s attention.” She patted me on the cheek. “Also, if you use that Anchor to create a permanent portal, don’t do it here, either. There are reasons the Third Layer is kept separate. Even having the portal to your personal realm open for an hour is more than I like. Try and treat it like a door that should always be shut behind you once you’ve walked through.”
“I’ll do that,” I said.
Sam’lia studied me for a moment, then jerked her head toward Xim behind her.
“She likes you, you know?” she said. I raised an eyebrow and glanced over at the cleric. She was speaking excitedly with her parents, but caught me looking and flashed me a grin.
“I would hope so,” I said. “Since she spends so much time around me.”
Sam’lia swatted my chest. It felt like a playful god was tickling my soul
“You know what I mean,” she said, then reached out to grip my shoulders. She looked me up and down while she squeezed my deltoids. “A big, virile boy like you shouldn’t restrain yourself so much. It isn’t healthy.”
“This is a little embarrassing,” I said, feeling like a 14-year-old being told how handsome they are by their mother. “I think my Checkpoint portal is going to close soon.”
“Fine, fine,” she said. “Tell Etja not to worry about her abilities. She isn’t going to turn into her dad.”
“Hmm, okay.”
“And let Nuralie know the Eschenden are pleased with her.”
“I– how do you know that? Do the gods talk?”
“Sometimes. Also, tell Varrin Nephithaya can help with his spiritualism even though he doesn’t worship.”
“Nephithaya?”
“Bring Grotto next time, too. I’d like to speak with him at length about a few things.” She kept going before I could respond. “Shog’s brood had some trouble while he was with you, so you really need to respect his time away. No summoning unless it’s life or death.”
I remembered an offhand comment from Shog about how c’thons resided in the Third Layer of their home dimension.
“Will do,” I said. Sam’lia gave me another pat on the cheek, then turned back to the crowd. The sounds of scattered conversations rose around me like Sam’lia was turning the volume knob on reality back up to normal.
“Be well, children,” she said, her voice carrying across the crowd. Then, in a burst of flame, she was gone.
Xim skipped over and then looked up at me with her hands folded behind her back.
“Learn anything?” she asked.
“Yeah. She also gave me some messages to pass on to the others.”
“Oh? Let me guess. The Divine One was handing out matronly wisdom.”
“Pretty much.” I checked the timer on my Checkpoint. It only had a couple of minutes left. “I should head back. When do you want me to reopen the portal?”
“Varrin said 5 days.” The big guy had transitioned back to the First immediately, escorted by a man named Cul’gute. “That gives us 2 days to prepare for the meeting.”
“I’ll put it on my calendar.”
We said our goodbyes, and I headed back into the Closet.
I was alone for the first time in months, and I took a deep breath, already planning out how best to relax for a few days.
Of course, I was reminded that I was never really alone when Grotto’s mental voice filled my head.
[Would you like to assist me in monitoring the Delvers currently running the Pocket Delve?]