Chapter Twenty-Six: Will Of The Heavens
~~~~~~~{Memory Core 8 Start}~~~~~~~
“In Penance, there are so many perils Elrick had to watch out for.” Professor Perrod said as he scrawled a list in white chalk upon the black slate of his board.
A student held up his hand, a snotty-nosed brat named Candar. He was the most annoying kid in the year, so naturally, we were friends. Without waiting for the teacher to call on him, he said, “This is boring. My brother, Peckolin the Sage, said Elrick probably wasn’t even real. And if he wasn’t real, this isn’t history.” He inhaled with a deep sniff as he said this last part.
Professor Perrod’s face grew red hot, and I could tell he was about to lose it, but it was like Candar didn’t even care. But then the professor breathed out a sigh and started to answer the question seriously.
“Whether or not Elrick was a real figure is not up for debate. We have scholarly accounts of his life from multiple different historical sources of the time, including a Magical Mural older than the three-thousand-year-old palace it is contained within.” A quick series of rapid chalk strokes produced a series of illustrations on the board. But I barely listened as my mind wandered to a much more important topic: Magic. Anytime magic was mentioned, it was as if a fire was lit in my brain, and magic was water.
I consumed as much information as I could get my hands on, wanting to know more and wishing I could get my hands on it. I knew Magic was my way out of my personal Penance. You’d think that since he was talking about magic, I’d be able to focus, but my brain had other plans.
This was my way away from pain and poverty, and the pettiness of my awful parents. I waited for a pause in topics and raised my hand, shaking in anticipation as much as fear. I never asked questions. But unlike Candar, I waited for the Professor to nod so that I could speak.
“Si–prof—sorry, Professor Perrod, what is a Magical Mural?” My hand was still shaking as I lowered it, but I could see excitement in the faces of my classmates, so I knew it was the right call. He looked at me, confused momentarily, wondering where the change in topics came from. He muttered something under his breath before recollection hit his old, tired eyes, and he brightened.
“Magic Murals are a fascinating but also insidious bit of magic. They store more than just pictures, but also bits of the soul of history. The magical embodiment of history, if you will. And like all magic, it comes with a price that seldom few wish to pay. It takes a bit of your life force every time you look upon it. In exchange, reading the caption of the mural and looking at the art can confer great rewards. Knowledge, money, or even the ability to wield magic.” Great Rewards. Wielding magic. This was it. Magical Murals. That was definitely the key to a better life. Piles of gold flashed in my eyes as Professor Perrod moved on to a different topic.
~~~~~~~{End Memory Core 8}~~~~~~~
I slunk down to the ground as the memory faded, my brain feeling diced to a thousand pieces by the past few minutes. Professor Perrod hadn't been joking about the loss of life force. I didn’t dare look at my HP, let alone the next mural; my health was nearly gone, and I hadn’t even killed an enemy. To make everything worse, the first two Mural walls didn’t confer magic, money, or anything.
“Crystal? Do you know how I get the reward from the Magic Murals? I’m nearly dead, and I didn’t get anything out of it.” The pain had been like staring into the sun during an eclipse; a couple of years ago, Peckolin, Candar’s older brother, convinced us that he got his magic powers by looking at an eclipse when he was our age. Where had that come from? It was continually confusing that some memories popped up as brief thoughts, and others created the cores. Hopefully, I would figure out what the difference was soon, so I could streamline unlocking the cores and fix my shattered mind. The magic binding the mural to the sewer walls harmed the eyes, yet I found myself having to force my eyes away.
“Crystal, I need a favor,” I said, keeping my eyes closed. I wondered why it had hurt this time when I had stared at the murals just as long the first time through. “Can you read the last mural to me? Maybe I have to complete all of the murals to get the reward.”
[It will not work like that, Rod. If you don’t read it, you won’t get the reward.]
Of course, it couldn’t be that simple. I slowly rose to my feet, and I was shaking something awful. Seizure-like tremors wracked my body. I wasn’t used to this level of pain. It was infuriating and confusing. But my mind was set. I was going to look at the last mural.
The second I turned to the last mural, my eyes poised to open, Crystal shouted, [Wait!] I paused, eyes still closed. [If you look at that last mural, you’ll die and lose a life without having gained a single death boon.]
“Wait, what?” I said in shock before immediately turning around so I didn’t risk it.
[In your current state, it will kill you.]
“That’s so stupid! What’s the point of thing if it just kills you?”
[It is the will of the heavens; I would not deign to call them stupid.]
I wanted to scream and tantrum again, but I glanced down at my miraculously healed hand. I wouldn’t do that again. Instead, I clenched my fist and forcibly stamped down the anger. But how was I going to get out of this situation?
“Then what do we do? I might as well give up if I’m already getting locked out of treasures.” I said dejectedly.
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Crystal sighed before saying, [You need to lighten up, Francis. There’s an easy solution. Change your class, and you’ll be fine. Haven’t you noticed that your health is always full when you change classes? In fact, now is a good time to focus on your death boons.]
I blinked and then thought back. The memories were as foggy as everything else; I would have to take her word for it. She kept talking as my mind drifted.
As Crystal’s voice wove through the air, my gaze drifted upwards to the mural, lured by a flash of light I wasn’t expecting. I fell to my knees, banging so hard they hurt, but it felt like little more than an ant bite compared to the pain of the last bit of knowledge entering my head.
The final wall showed Malikap, The Merchant, and Rellum locked in an eternal battle within Penance, unable to escape. I knew for a fact that was what I saw with this one, as even the Goblish called them Malkap and Rellum, although The Merchant was called something different. I touched the words as I said them out loud, translating them into Aerlynian.
“Malikap, the merchant, and Rellum, eternally bound, indeed, Penance crumbled, renewed to be strong.”
As I finished talking, a flood of memories entered my mind—memories that weren’t mine. The memory core formed above me, and I grabbed it, unsure what it would show me.
~~~~~~~[Elric Memory Core 1 Start]~~~~~~~
Being the first of anything is usually a noble goal. The first King, the first queen, the first guard, the first chef, the first to survive Penance, all noble, lofty attainments. But there are plenty of firsts that are not so lofty. The first to lie, the first murderer, the first prisoner, the first to be executed, the first Penitent. That's me, by the way, well, all of those things. The first victim of execution. The first Prisoner of the gods. The first murderer.
They lopped my head straight off with an ax, which was surely meant to be the end; however, I awakened in Penance as the first Penitent. In those days, the dungeon was vastly different. Each floor had a few rooms and a boss, which is hardly the lofty multi-plex it is today. Still, the scars on my soul, forged in Penance, changed me forever—an experience that made me the king I am today.
As I watched it burn for the first time, I felt my power grow to new heights. I would reclaim my birthright. My older brother didn’t know the cost of usurping my place. I would watch with joy as I led my army to slaughter him and his kingdom. My subjects would be behind me, of course. I beat Penance and freed the gods, after all—gods that the soon-to-be former king disavowed.
I left my mural here to show you a truth–a truth I want you to know. Penance is a lie. It’s not what we’ve been told it is. But, before I tell you all of that, let this old man tell you a story, one that may illuminate that truth. Because this is important, without proper context, the truth is but words on the wind.
It’s true that I escaped penance and rebuilt society from the lawlessness of the Wastes. While everything I told you is true, they are those very words on the wind. I was the first prisoner, the first executed, but I was not the first murderer. In fact, my only actual crime was a lack of foresight, a rippling anger that jerked my behavior around before I could rein in my thoughts. The first murderer, though– that lofty prize went to my brother; he poisoned our father and attempted to usurp the throne. I only did what was right for everyone. I killed my brother when he told me the truth. Of course, his wife saw the whole thing and got a bunch of hunters to trap me.
There wasn’t even a tribunal–the concept hadn’t been invented yet. I was found guilty by public assent, and I was speared through the head. I wasn’t even allowed to defend myself. It was awful. My own people betrayed me after my father was murdered, and I wasn’t allowed to say a thing in my defense.
A lot of my own people were confused when I took my Oasis army and killed them all after I escaped penance. That wasn’t in the history books, of course, but why would it be? I am hailed as a hero outside of here, but that's because they don’t know the truth anymore.
At this point, I am probably rambling; Penance takes a toll, after all, and coming back for a third time has hampered me. There is something wrong with my memories. It didn’t used to be this way. I could recall with clarity my entire life and both of my after-lives, but the second and third time through, I couldn’t recall anything about how penance worked. My mind was a broken sieve, leaving behind nothing.
But Penance has now fractured my mind, and I am scared it has finally won. ; it is only not that I’ve clawed my way down to this sewer that I have some semblance of who I am again. The memory cores that have spawned are fascinating creations filled with power and hope. They inspired me to make this mural, and they are the reason why I have hope Penance can be destroyed. Perhaps He decided a full mind was too much, too overpowering? It matters not, for I am here with the Truth and not speculation. Penance can be defeated, but it can not be killed.
~~~~~~~[Elric Memory Core 1 End]~~~~~~~
My mind became my own again, and I had to cradle my head in my hands as it felt like someone was cramming a second brain into my head. I couldn’t hear, see or think. The memories overwhelmed everything that I was and replaced it with a man who was just rambling like crazy without any coherent meaning behind what he was saying. And then, I died as the Mural exacted its price.
~~~The Plane of Torment~~~
[You idiot! If you had waited five seconds you wouldn’t have died! End of Run 4]
I floated aimlessly. The pain was gone, and for the first time this run, I felt clear-headed. Does this still count as part of a run? Where am I, anyway? I tried to look around, but all I could see was an inky purple and black darkness.
But before I had time to wonder about anything else, Crystal, in a completely different, chipper voice, said, [Congratulations! You have completed the first Magical Mural, and you have gained a permanent ability: Scan. This ability allows you to scan living targets for their stats, weaknesses, and loot tables. This ability costs 5 stamina. Enjoy!]
Rod - Run 4 Corpse
Death Boons: 13
Gold: 0
Name
Amount
Condition
Effect
Description
Enchanted Blood Ruby Of The Sewage Goblin Tribes
1
NA
While in your possession, you can speak Goblish. While in your possession, once per run, you can equip an item during combat. You can skip the normal rooms on the first floor and choose to fight only the Necromancer and the Goblins.
A dark, gleaming ruby imbued with the ancient magic of the Sewage Goblin Tribes. The ruby is also one of the seven keys needed to escape Penance.