Hadespera

The 26th of Elaphebolion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

“Ladies, gentlemen, and all in between, may I have your attention?”

Vik stood atop one of the tables, gathering every eye and ear in the village. Behind him, on the ground, Elpida and Gigator stood next to the kneeling form of Callias Buteo.

“Today has been a day of victories,” Vik continued. “But it is not all revelries. There is a serious matter which must be attended to. We are no longer in civilized lands but that does not mean we should resort to savagery. One who would seek dominion over us has succumbed to the heights of his own hubris. Callias Buteo.”

An angry murmur rose throughout the crowd.

“Tyrant!”

“Bastard!”

“Piss trough!”

This last came from the vicinity of Theodorous, Callias’s steward, who quickly covered his mouth and looked upward as eyes drew to his direction.

“Callias did lead the charge down into the dungeon known as Hekáte’s Vivitorium,” Vik continued. “But it was not to bring aid to the adventurers who had paved the way, nor was it to rescue our friends and family who were kidnapped in the beastmar’s last attack. Citizens he publicly stated he wouldn’t try to rescue just six short days ago. He went down there to kill the adventurers who took up his duties, all so he would not have to pay the bounty his steward set. Callias Buteo does not pay his debts and dishonors his allies.”

The crowd grew even more upset.

“Hang him!”

“Exile!”

“Rip out ‘is obols!”

Vik held his hands up and the crowd quieted somewhat, soothed by the charismatic moon elf.

“I understand your anger and I share it, but there is more. Down in the depths of the dungeon, we found the beastmar’s lair. We saw these three adventurers, brave Arche, loyal Lyssa, and steadfast Tess, facing down an overwhelming force. Three scores of beastmar rose up to meet them and the six prisoners they had rescued, and three scores of beastmar were repelled by their combined skill and courage. Arche challenged their leader to a duel after slaying a dozen single-handedly, sacrificing himself for the others to recover their wounds and wounded, buying time for us to arrive even though he believed no rescue was coming. They fought and, though the beastmar was larger and more powerful, it lacked Arche’s courage. After sustaining terrible wounds, he slew his foe.”

Cheers erupted. Arche felt a hand slam against his back, turning to see a dark-haired dwarf grinning at him. He turned back and found most of the village looking at him, eyes full of admiration. His gorge rose in the back of his throat. It was too much cheer, too much happiness. Didn’t they understand what had happened down there? The attention made him want to find a nice hole to bury himself in. When the crowd quieted again, Vik continued.

“When the fighting resumed, we arrived. Let me tell you, I have never seen fighting like this in all my years. Down there were monsters, massive and small, good and bad. Down there in the dark, heroes gave their lives to save their homes and their people, and through their efforts the beastmar were annihilated. Brave Arche lay vanquished, the beastmar chieftain’s axe split his chest, delivering a mortal wound, even as brave Arche’s spear pierced the chieftain’s heads. Loyal Lyssa and steadfast Tess stood over his body, alone in a sea of monsters, and what was their reward? Callias ordered their deaths.”

The crowd gasped.

“That right bastard,” one quiet voice piped up.

“Oh, yes!” Vik continued, raising a fist high. “He ordered the guards to kill the very people who had fought so hard to protect us. But there was one thing he hadn’t accounted for.”

Vik paused, building out the tension. The crowd leaned forward, holding its collective breath.

“Brave Arche survived! He rose from the ashes of his enemy, challenging Callias to a duel. Not for himself, nor even his allies, did brave Arche challenge Callias, but for us. For each and every one of us here who came to this village with the hopes of a new life. A better life. He challenged Callias the same way he had challenged the beastmar chieftain, though no less grotesque a foe he now faced.”

“Hey!” Callias objected.

Elpida cuffed him on the side of the head.

“You’ll get your chance,” she spat.

“Brave Arche goaded Callias into a duel but the trickster held one more card up his sleeve. He demanded the fight be against Lyssa instead. Arche had just leveled, you see, and was at full strength. Lyssa agreed to the duel, bathed in blood and heavily wounded though she was. It would be a battle not of steel or of wits, but of fists. He thought his magically reinforced armor would protect him. He thought that because his opponent was a woman and an elf, that she would be easily defeated. While he was busy bragging, loyal Lyssa struck him down with ease. Now, I bring him before you, good people.”

Gigator lifted Callias and tossed him forward to land on the table in front of Vik.

“You who have been the victims of his negligence. You, who have been forced to live in tents because he refused to use the materials to build homes. You, who he would have let be slaughtered by beastmar to save his coffers. Are there any who would speak in his defense?”

The silence was deafening. Callias looked about, searching for allies. Theodorous turned around fully rather than risk making eye contact. No one raised their voice for him.

“What do you have to say in your own defense, Callias?” Vik demanded.

“You’re fools, all of you. You think we’re here to start a new life? You think this venture was a settling colony? We’re sacrifices. All of us. You have no idea what’s coming. Do you really think the beastmar are the worst things out there? No. You may have slain one enemy, but are you ready for the rest? Do what you will, all I wanted was a bit of comfort before the end. To drown myself in wine, women, and coin. Well, I’ve had my fill. Do what you will to me, it doesn’t matter. Death will come for you all.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. Even Vik, normally implacable, seemed put off by Callias’s words.

“Exile!”

“Kill him!”

“Lock him away!”

Vik held his hands up for quiet. The crowd took a little longer to settle but the moon elf still held them well within hand.

“My friends, we have no facilities for incarceration. I can’t speak for your hearts, but I would rather our new home not start by killing our first leader. I stand before you in favor of an exile. If you would all agree, we can pass out ballots for the vote.”

“Forget your scrolls, long-ears,” the dwarf next to Arche hollered, jumping up onto the table. “Any of you lot against this bastard being exiled, raise your right hand!”

No one moved.

“All for this lecherous lout to get out of our village forever, on pain of death should he ever return, raise your hand.”

Every hand in the village went up. Some, like a certain steward, raised both hands.

“There,” the dwarf said, turning to Vik. “Saved your parchment, same result.”

“Yes.” Vik drew the word out as he looked down his nose at the dwarf. “So it seems. Very well, Callias Buteo, you have been exiled. At dawn you will be escorted to the edge of town and given one day’s rations. Should you ever return, you will be killed. Do you understand?”

“I’m the only one that understands,” Callias growled.

“Gigator, take him away.”

The sauros grabbed Callias by the back of his shirt and hoisted him into the air. Callias didn’t resist, he simply glowered at everyone. His eyes met Arche’s and he grinned.

“Enjoy it while you can. They’ll turn on you, just like they turned on me.”

Arche gave the former village lord a good view of his middle fingers.

“Shut up.” Gigator slapped the back of Callias’s head and the man went limp.

“Now, friends,” Vik called out, recapturing the crowd’s attention. “We have deposed our leader and sentenced him to exile, but there is another matter at hand that needs to be resolved. We must elect a new leader to take his place. Someone who can lead us with wisdom and strength. Someone who is not afraid to make a stand for what is good and right.”

Vik turned, arms moving in a sweeping gesture.

“My vote I will tell you here and now. You will find no better leader here than loyal Lyssa.”

Lyssa stood. Her fists were white-knuckled, but she stood firm and resolute. Every eye turned toward her. Many of them craned forward, expecting some speech, but Lyssa only stood, staring back at them wide-eyed. Arche had never seen her look more uncomfortable. When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything, Arche raised his voice.

“I have traveled with Lyssa for as long as I can remember,” he started, the crowd shifting its attention to him. “I can think of no greater candidate for leadership. If the people will it, Lyssa, it would be my honor to serve under you.”

“Archousa! Archousa!”

Arche looked around, confused, as the cry was taken up until the whole village was shouting it.

“It’s the title for a ruler,” Tess said in his ear.

“I thought that was ‘lord’ or ‘mayor,’” he replied.

“Mayor.” Tess frowned. “Don’t know that word. Leaders are archons or archousa. Lord or lady also apply, but those are unofficial titles. It seems our friend has been promoted.”

The chanting continued, though it devolved into simply shouting “Lyssa! Lyssa! Lyssa!” over and over.

“Right then, let’s put it to another vote!” the dwarf from earlier shouted. “Unless you have your heart set on wasting parchment, long-ears! All in favor of this elf lass being the new archousa, raise your hand and shout her name.”

Hands shot up all over the crowd. It wasn’t every hand in the village, but it was close. Arche tried to get a better look at those who hadn’t but there were too many people in the way.

“And are there any who would run against her, who wish to throw their own name in the ring to be the archon?” the dwarf shouted.

Not one person stepped forward.

“Then it’s decided. Lyssa is the new leader. What say you, Archousa?”

Lyssa appeared rather taken aback, as though she hadn’t expected to win.

“I say that Buton is an ugly name and an ugly reminder for what this village once was. I believe this place can grow into a civilization of hope that will last for ten thousand years. I name this village Myriatos.”

“Myriatos! Myriatos! Myriatos!”

A notification appeared in Arche’s vision.

Archousa Lyssa has declared this village to be known as Myriatos.

“Let’s party!” someone shouted.

A cheer rose. Someone rolled out a barrel of wine and started filling goblets. Somewhere, a band started playing. Tess flashed Arche a grin.

“Shall I grab us some drinks?”

He offered her a tired smile.

“Honestly, I’m exhausted. I’m still feeling the after-effects from you-know-what and I think a night of drunken debauchery is going to end up worse than last time.”

“As I recall, you had a pretty good time.”

“You drugged me and nearly killed me.”

“Before that.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I don’t really remember what happened before that. On account of being drugged and nearly killed.”

“Then take my word for it, you were having a good time.”

“I believe it. I’ll be in my tent. After everything we went through, I think a quiet night is just my speed. If you see Lyssa, tell her congratulations from me.”

“Have a good night, Arche. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Enjoy.”

Arche snagged a small flagon of wine off the table and walked back to his tent in the falling darkness. A full moon shone down, casting moonbeams through the clouds. Arche took a swig before entering his tent. Once inside, he removed his shirt and his boots. His bedroll was no feather bed, but it was comfortable and warm and the air was cool on his skin.

Arche took a deep breath, savoring how fresh it tasted. He wasn’t particularly sure of the season, but the nights were cool enough that it wouldn’t surprise him to be in the midst of Spring.

There were still two hours until Death Sickness wore off and he still had twenty-five attribute points to distribute. He decided it was as good a time as ever to start building out his profile.

Arche

Level: 20

Experience to next level: 761 (89%)

Race: Human

Age: 27

Height: 189 centimeters

Weight: 88.8 kilograms

Profession: Demigod

Trade: N/A

Traits: Slayer of the Mighty, Psychic

Companions: Lyssanderyli

Adventuring Party: N/A

Health: 695 / 695

100%

Stamina: 505 / 505

100%

Mana: 290 / 290

100%

Death Sickness: 2:08:48

Strength: 39

Dexterity: 33

Agility: 30

Fortitude: 33 (28)

Endurance: 34 (29)

Intelligence: 29

Wisdom: 35

Willpower: 15 (30)

Perception: 28

Charisma: 40 (34)

Comeliness: 15 (11)

Luck: 22

Arche whistled softly, doing some counting on his fingers. Unlocking his class had given him five extra points in each attribute and gaining five levels had given him an additional five points in each attribute.

“Ten points, twelve attributes…hundred-twenty points? That’s…twenty-four levels worth of points? Holy shit.”

The profession was already paying dividends and he hadn’t even used it yet. All that was left was to decide where his points should go. The idea of keeping some in reserve once again reared its head at him but he quashed it. He’d been in several life-or-death situations and in none of those situations had he ever thought to himself how he should spend his attribute points. In most of them, he couldn’t even risk opening his interface to retrieve an item from his inventory. Saving his points wouldn’t help him, it would only stagnate his growth.

But where to place his points? He was a physical fighter, he’d proven that time and time again. Those attributes were important to keeping him alive, but arguably just as important were his mental stats. He didn’t have spells, but that didn’t mean he never would, and his Divine Body skill had saved his life more times than he could count. If he had the extra Mana that leveling and getting his profession had offered, he would have avoided Mana Burnout when fighting Eten and Nete and likely wouldn’t have even died. That meant his Intelligence attribute needed to be addressed.

Arche poured six points into Intelligence, bringing him to thirty-five. Nineteen points left. Next, he looked at his Stamina. As it was, he was too often fighting creatures that could outlast him in a fight, forcing him to go to desperate measures to win. He threw another six points into Endurance, bringing his total up to forty, thanks to his ring. After a moment, he put a single point into Strength, bringing that to forty as well. Twelve points left to spend.

His Willpower received a massive twenty-five percent boost due to his Psychic Trait. His Charisma received a similar, if smaller, boost. Both could pay dividends down the road. His Willpower helped him maintain his concentration, increased his spellpower, and fortified his mind. The last seemed especially important after the Vivitorium and learning how to cast out his psychic awareness.

Charisma would affect his interactions with others and it was only because of the connections he had made that he had survived this long. Without Lyssa, he would have been wolf food weeks ago. He placed four points into each category.

Four points left.

A small voice in the back of his mind whispered to spend it on Comeliness. The blanket gains his class offered had brought it up to over the starting point of the rest of his stats, and he’d felt his facial scars become less obtrusive as a result, but he still couldn’t justify the expenditure any more than that he didn’t want to look as he did.

Practicality over aesthetic, function over visage. The mantra ran through his head. His other skills helped him survive and Tartarus truly was a dangerous world. He was uncomfortable with his face, it was true. The scars trailed a topographical map of a history he couldn’t recall; it was a violation. The first thing anyone would ever see about him would be his scars. That shouldn’t bother him, but it did. He had no connection to them. He had no story, no grand tale to tell of their acquisition. In a very real sense, he’d been born that way. It wasn’t fair.

At the same time, however, it was something he could grow to live with. He didn’t know if he’d ever be completely satisfied with how he looked. But he could learn to live with it. And, if he was very, very lucky, some days he might even forget they were there.

Arche took another drink and forced himself to turn away from Comeliness. It was pride that drove him to it. It wouldn’t help him, wouldn’t change his identity or make him harder to kill. It wouldn’t save his friends or help him make the right decisions. It would simply make those who looked at him more comfortable and that was not his problem.

Arche took a deep breath, then dumped two points into Agility and one into Dexterity. His last point sank into Luck, for good measure. Then he let the breath out and looked over his stats once more.

Health: 730 / 730

100%

Stamina: 565 / 565

100%

Mana: 350 / 350

100%

Strength: 40

Dexterity: 34

Agility: 32

Fortitude: 33 (28)

Endurance: 40 (35)

Intelligence: 35

Wisdom: 35

Willpower: 17 (35)

Perception: 28

Charisma: 44 (38)

Comeliness: 15 (11)

Luck: 22

Profession Paths are available.

Explore Profession Paths?

Yes

No

“Not tonight,” Arche muttered. “I don’t even know what you are, yet.”

Access Profession Paths at any time from your profile.

It was too late, he was too tired, and he had too little information to jump down a whole new rabbit hole of this world. He just wanted to finish his wine and sleep in.

“Arche? Are you still awake?”

Well, there went those plans.

“Tess? That you?”

Arche stood and threw back the tent flap. Tess stood in front of him; long, blonde hair freed from its braid and hanging over half her face. She rubbed her hand against her arm as though she wasn’t certain of what she was doing.

“What’s wrong?” Arche asked immediately.

“Nothing, it’s…can we talk?”

“Of course, come on in.”

The wind sent a shiver down his back, covering him in gooseflesh. Tess ducked inside the tent with him. He offered her the bedroll to sit on as he folded up his cloak and rested himself on it.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“I’ve got one,” she replied, holding out a hand and withdrawing a goblet already full of wine from her inventory.

“Huh, cool trick. Just out of curiosity, how many of those have you had?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Just want to know what I’m getting into here.”

“I came here to talk, Arche. That’s all. But, if you must know, this is my third.”

“All right, let’s talk.”

“I’m…” Tess hesitated.

A million ideas ran through Arche’s head, each stranger than the last. Was this a professing of emotions? Was she going to tell him she loved him? She hated him? That she never wanted to see him again? Was she leaving? Should he fill the silence? Probably not. Tess’s face worked through several emotions as her mouth opened and closed.

“I’m not doing well. I almost died down there. I’ve never been that close. I would have died, if not for you. I don’t really know how to process all of it.”

Arche nodded. It wasn’t about him, not really. The wine had conjured those thoughts, surely.

“I would be shocked if you did. And then I’d probably ask you for pointers.”

“It was easier to deal with it down there. I didn’t have to think about it. Everyone was focused on our next move, our next step.”

“But we’re not down there anymore. We’re not fighting for our lives, so now we have to admit how close we came to losing.”

Tess nodded and took a drink.

“I don’t have answers,” Arche said. “I don’t know how to rationalize what happened to me. What’s still happening to me. I set out to try to learn about who I used to be and who I am, but I’m not really any closer to learning about who I used to be than I was a month ago. And in that time I’ve experienced some truly awful things. But I can shrivel up and die inside or I can put one foot in front of the other and keep trudging forward.”

“One day at a time,” Tess said.

“Exactly. Live in the now, not in yesterday.”

“That’s not bad advice. You made this complicated for me, you know.”

“Me?” Arche frowned. “How’d I do that?”

“That mind-meld psychic thing you did with me. It’s got me doubting myself.”

“Ah. First and foremost, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done that if I had any other option. Second, I’m not sure I follow.”

“I like you, Arche,” she said flatly. “You’re sweet. A bit bumbling at times, but you’re relatively smart and you care about people.”

“Oh,” Arche blinked, self-consciously scratching at one cheek, feeling the scar ridges beneath his nails. “And that’s a problem?”

“Yes. Because I don’t know if I like you because I like you or because you implanted the idea into my head.”

Arche stared at her in horror.

“Tess, I would never—”

“I know, I know,” she said, holding up a hand to stop him. “I know you would never intentionally do that. But you yourself said you were new to those abilities. You didn’t mean to see my entire life, but it happened. You didn’t mean to show me your entire life, but it happened. For a short period of time, you and I were as close as two separate people can possibly be. You lived me and I lived you. How could an experience like that not draw us together?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Can you honestly look at me and tell me there’s no chance whatsoever that you put the idea in my mind?”

Arche looked down.

“I don’t know. This…ability, I don’t know everything it can do, yet. Mostly I’ve been operating it through instinct, but even I’m not sure what I’m capable of.”

“So you might have influenced me without meaning to.”

“I don’t know. Maybe? It’s possible, I think.”

“And so I have reason to doubt.”

“If I did, it was unintentional and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you for it, Arche. It’s just something I have to consider, now. That my feelings may not be my own, but your own feelings reflected back through me.”

“I’m not going to deny that I like you, Tess. But I’m also not going to pressure you into this. We’ve been through hell together and you’re right, our experiences have drawn us together. But I don’t want that to be the reason we get together.”

“No?”

“No. If you decide you want to be with me, it’ll be because you want to, not because our circumstances drove us together.”

Tess nodded, then frowned.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Our connection went both ways, after all.”

“Not really.”

Tess stared at him, surprise etched into her face. Arche shrugged and scratched his head.

“Ineffable beings have been fucking with me my entire life, or at least the last month, but I liked you before I found out I was psychic. Our connection didn’t change that. Even if it did, my feelings are my own if I accept them. I like you, Tess. You’re clever and one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and I’m not talking stats.”

That got a smile.

“I do want to have that dinner,” she said. “I just don’t know that I’m ready for more.”

“I’ve got time. Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks, Arche.”

Tess finished her drink and stood. Arche stood as well, throwing back the flap of the tent to let her leave. She paused at the entrance, so close that Arche could smell the sweet wine on her breath. She raised a hand to his cheek, her touch so light it sent chills down his back. Her finger caressed the ridge of a raised scar and he flinched, pulling away from her. The moment shattered. Tess let her hand fall and stepped past him, out into the night.

Arche watched her go, then dropped the tent flap back into place and tied it closed.

“Looks like you’ve got more problems than you realized, Arche old boy.”