The man woke up from his sleep abruptly. A surge of energy had woken him. He sat up from his stone bed for the first time in many centuries, with furrowed brows. He had thought the age of such a thing to occur to be over. And perhaps it still was. The surge felt different. Rushed. Like the cause hadn’t had the time to properly protect and cover its tracks. Years ago, when such occurrences happened fairly often, it was difficult to track. But now, the man was able to locate the source after only a few minutes search.
And he wasn’t the only one. The others like him had also noticed the surge and tracked it. He wasn’t exactly worried. They all had the same interests and desires, roughly, but the way they went about it were drastically different.
The room the man had slept in was bare of any decoration. It was made of smooth stone and only had a raised stone platform in the center to serve as a sort of bed. All the corners were rounded, even the walls. The room hadn’t seen light in centuries, and likely wouldn’t ever again. The single item that could possibly be considered decoration was a small, but thick, solid metal door. The metal was dark was produced no light, but was so heavily enchanted, that if light did hit it, the door would glimmer.
The man glanced at the door with slight annoyance. If it had been up to him, he would be out and exploring the world, as he loved to do. But as trapped in the room as he was, imprisoned and forgotten, he could only occasionally send out his Spirit when he was able to scavenge enough of his power together.
Normally, he would send out his Spirit every fifty years. By that point, he would have gathered enough power to sustain it for roughly one year, allowing him to explore and interact with the world. Sometimes he used that year to search for clues about where his body lay trapped, but it always felt like he had wasted his year. The people who had trapped him and been incredibly thorough.
However, in this case, it was important enough for him to sacrifice his year of illusionary freedom. He had to know more about the Surge, its cause, and its reasons. The man laid back down on the stone platform and closed his eyes, his Spirit leaving. As always, the enchantments of the cell interfered with the process, but those who had built the cell were much more proficient in blocking physical access than they were at blocking spiritual access.
Instead of appearing above his body as it was meant to, his Spirit appeared randomly in the world, however, he with the Surge as a flag, he was able to direct his Spirit to appear closer to it.
The man, looking through his Spirit which would appear as just a strange wind to the untrained, appeared high above the clouds. He stretched his body, even if his Spirit didn’t have ligaments to stretch. The man turned in the direction of the surge and moved towards it, the land below flying past at impossible speeds. Within moments, he stood in the sky, looking down at a strange boy, covered in thick furs and surrounded by Undead, just waking up. But the man wasn’t the only one. Others of his kind had beaten him there.
“Its good to see you.” One of them said, only glancing at the Spirit.
“Apparently not good enough to find my body and free me.” The Spirit replied.
He had once considered many of his kind as his friends, but after he was imprisoned, not one seemed to care much. He wasn’t the kind to be quick to anger. At first, he had hoped that they would search for him. But after several centuries of his so-called friends simply going about their usual affairs, anger had begun to set in. Now, he while he wouldn’t be the one to deal the blow, he wouldn’t mind seeing them die.
The one who had spoken didn’t respond. Only continued to look down at the boy with the other dozen there. Their kind were few, just under a hundred, but they were spread throughout the vast world. To see a dozen of them in one place was something even the Spirit had only seen once before, and the previous event that had required it was not one that he would have wanted to relive, even with his body.
“What are you all doing here?” One of them asked, a beautiful woman dressed in green asked. Of their kind, she was the one who typically stayed in this area.
“Same as you.” A giant of a man with gray skin said, his voice barely a whisper in the wind, but easily heard by all present.
The Spirit would have rolled his eyes if he had eyes at the moment. It was such a stupid question to ask.
“What about you?” The woman asked the Spirit.
“To sate my curiosity and prevent the rest of you from doing something stupid.” The Spirit emotionlessly stated.
“You aren’t even really here. What could you possibly do?” A thin man with a rapier at his hip laughed.
“You’re right, I am but a Spirit at the moment. But They saw fit to imprison me. Out of all of us, they deemed me enough of a threat to hide away.” The Spirit growled, his form becoming violent.
After so long, they had forgotten just how terrible this man could be. Before he had been imprisoned, he had been one of the few undisputed strongest of their kind, and the most terrifying. Even in his weakened state as a Spirit, none wanted to see his capability. They all backed away in poorly hidden fear. All but one.
The old man was certainly not one of the powerhouses of their kind, in fact, it could be said that he ranked in the bottom ten. However, nonetheless, they all respected him. He was the oldest of them. Throughout the ages, there had been thousands of their kind, most long dead. Yet despite that, he remained. He was the fourth to become one of their kind, and survived, despite none first thousand managing to do the same.
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The old man was one of the weakest, but he was, without a doubt, the one they all turned to for aid or advice. He knew exactly the sort of strength the Spirit had when he had been free, as well as the exact limit of his current power. The Spirit, even as weakened as he was, could still easily slaughter the old man and another six of those present. Yet the old man was not afraid. He was the one who knew the Spirit best. He would not attack except in self-defense.
“Sed, calm yourself.” The old man commanded, much like he was talking to a grandchild.
Sedall obeyed, slowly returning to the calm constant. Like the others, Sedall respected the old man immensely, more so than any other of their Kind. Even before his imprisonment. The old man was also the only one of their kind to be actively searching for ways to free Sedall.
“There will be no fighting.”
His word was law, none daring to counteract it.
“We were all brought here by the surge generated from this boy.” Ever since he had arrived, the old man had not once looked away from the boy.
“One of the Gods called this boy to the Divine Realm to speak to him. From what I have found within the surge, it was a short discussion. This leads me to believe that the war isn’t going any better. What are your thoughts?” His question was directly to all of them, who similar calmed down as Sedall did.
“Roughly the same. What type is the boy?” The gray giant asked, crossing his bare arms.
“Undead Summoner, but he uses the sword with a modicum of skill.” The woman explained, having more knowledge of the going ons of the region.
“And he just became breached the first barrier?”
“Correct, and it appears that he was whisked away immediately afterward. Whatever he chose, seemed to have caught the attention of one of the Gods, despite them focusing on the war.” A lithe woman with pointed ears said, almost to herself.
“If its enough to catch their attention, should we greet the boy?” A stout and wide man with a vast beard asked, looking towards the elder.
Sedall was about to speak, but was stopped by the elder.
“No. We all have our duties. We cannot postpone them for the boy, as valuable as he may or may not be. For all we know, the God called him because of their own curiosity during a break in the war. Sedall will monitor the boy.”
“Evros, I don’t have that much energy. I can only maintain this form for at most another month, and that is if I don’t expend any excess energy.” Sedall would have hesitated to mention his weaknesses in front of the others, but he wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t already common knowledge.
“I have been meaning to talk to you about this. I am still working on locating you, but while researching the method of your imprisonment, I learned a technique that should assist in this regard,” Evros pulled a thin and simple ring out of his satchel.
Each of them were so strong that they had no need to store things in such a way. To the knowledge of Sedall, Evros was the only one of their kind who physically carried around his items and tools, despite having the ability to store them in much more convenient ways. Sedall simply chalked it up to the old man being stuck in tradition.
“This ring, once I attune it to your Soul and the boy wears it, should allow you to constantly see the boy. Through his eyes, and his immediate surroundings.”
Sedall was hesitant. Having anything attuned to the soul was incredibly risky. However, he trusted Evros. The old man would not have mentioned it if he was not certain of its ability.
“How wide of a radius?” He asked.
“My estimations are roughly two meters.”
“How will you get the boy to wear it, and not take it off?” The woman in green asked.
“I have added a rudimentary enchantment on it. Though, it has been countless centuries since I have used such simple work. I do have faith that it is enough for the boy to wear it willingly, but not enough to be too powerful for him.”
“I’m assuming you will gift it to the boy and not mention that through it, Sedall can see him?” Asked the stout man, stroking his beard. Staying still at this altitude was causing his beard to fray.
“Correct. I was thinking of pretending to be an Old man who is retiring from adventuring and seeks a quiet life. Tualla?” Evros asked, looking up from the boy below for the first time.
“That should work. I haven’t had the time or need to closely watch the boy before now, but he will work with what he has. If the ring provides him a noticeable benefit, he will wear it.”
“Good. The rest of you; you have business to attend to.”
All of them knew they had been dismissed, and quickly left, leaving only Evros, Sedall, and Tualla watching the boy.
“Tualla, what is the boy like?” Evros asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Broken. The world has treated him harshly, and he resents that. His parents were slaughtered and strung up as displays, while his sister was stolen from him. He won’t stop until he gets revenge and saves his sister. It is what has driven him to break the first barrier at such a young age. I will try to learn more of him when I have time.”
“Thank you, and please let me know what you find when you do. This boy intrigues me.”
Similarly dismissed, Tualla vanished from the area, returning to her duties caring for the region.
“You felt it too, did you not.” It was not a question.
“Yes.” Sedall answered, watching the boy.
“Keep a close eye on him. Do not interfere in any way unless his life is at risk. I do not believe one of the Gods spoke to him purely for curiosity.”
“I will. However, I am worried.”
“About?”
“His mind. Like Tualla said, he is broken. But I can see it deeper than she can. I worry that if nothing changes, he will change things, and not for the better. Things aren’t good now. And the seed we felt? Many have taken notice of the boy, from all sides. If we are not careful, I worry that he will be the destruction of everything, directly or not.”
Silence hung between the two for several minutes as they watched the boy.
“For now. Do nothing but watch and listen. Keep him safe, but do not let him know of our existence or involvement. I will search for more clues. Until we learn more, none are to interact or interfere with him or his surroundings. Return to your cell. Build your strength, quickly. I fear that we will have need of it sooner than any of us hoped.”