Soaria turned her gaze away from the battle shaken city, and loped deeper into the treeline. “Come, we need to establish a base before we can start operations. I would’ve liked to keep this quick, but it seems our mission has grown… complicated.”
The image of the hulk of a corpse in the water lingered in her mind. She wasn’t much of a magus but the mana that the battle left in the air gave her goosebumps.
Goosebumps, and an indescribable urge to flee.
That corpse had to belong to Gretkarn. But if the local deity was slain by someone, and the Archmage mentioned an ally, one that Whisper called a logic defying monster then– Another sudden chill hastened her steps, and, heedless of her three remaining lackeys pushing themselves to keep pace, she accelerated. I need to proceed with caution. Terrestrial deities are always disasters when they get involved, but they aren’t unstoppable or all knowing. And this one is likely wounded too, but a wounded beast is often more dangerous, so caution is the key, which makes knowledge the lock.
She reached a small clearing, and slowed so that the other three could catch up and rest. “We must bide our time until we know more of the entity that captured you, and slew that behemoth. Once we’re established, you will scout the city. Confirm that the monster in the lake is Gretkarn, and if our target is still alive. Do not risk an attack for any reason even if he’s within reach. The last thing we need is a vengeful deity after us. We must know more. We need to find a weakness. An indulgence. Something it cherishes, something it values more than Calden.”
The three clasped their hands and gave short bows before speaking in unison. “It will be done!”
She turned away, and they dispersed to go and start covering their tracks. She reached into one of the enchanted pouches at her hip, removed a set of clawed gauntlets, and began to dig at the base of a large boulder. That leaves me to make contact with our temporary allies in the Ascendant church. Given the abundant arrogance of their higher ups I’ve little doubt that they’ve acted hastily and suffered a humiliating defeat. Which means they’ll want revenge. Good. I could use an easy to manipulate and freely disposable pawn.
Her Unearthing Master ability allowed her to hollow out a structurally sound fifteen by fifteen foot cavern within a matter of moments. She then withdrew several small light crystals and set them in the walls and ceiling. They wouldn’t offer bright light until activated, and couldn’t do so for very long, but they always kept a dim glow no matter what.
The eerie green light would also usually ward off foolish explorers or curious monsters, but right now all it did was evoke the fresh memory of the gloomy dungeon that held her subordinates. Which led to the vision of Whisper’s dead eyes, hollow voice, and listless, defeated, attitude.
She stiffened as if a knife were held to her throat. Then clutched her head, and crawled out of the gloomy base. I– I have to admit it. I’m scared. But I haven’t been scared in… The image of a tall man’s shadow loomed large in her mind unbidden. He reached for her with the calloused, cruel, hands that hammered her into what she was today, and nearly grabbed her before she twisted free of the long gone phantom in her head. No… No! He’s gone. And once this job is complete, I shall leave this land and never return. I will not suffer that again. I refuse to fail.
#
A few days after Gretkarn’s death Calden walked the organized clutter of the mostly ruined streets of the outer district in the orange light of the evening sun beneath the purple sky. He carried no weapon, had no armor, and was guarded only by the escorts the Count secretly ordered to tail him–as he refused to have any others since they would prevent or deter the people from interacting with him.
He wore a broad smile, hummed a hymn he’d learned from Iskel, and waved at everyone he passed–and more often than not, they returned the gesture, calling out his name in thanks or in simple greeting. For though things were far from fixed, they all had shelters to stay in and the freedom to collect what was left of their belongings thanks to his efforts.
It’s not much, but things will get better from here. Being the first district to complete the search for survivors has helped morale, and thanks to Uncle Linus granting me authority over the reconstruction of this district I’ve been able to put the power God gave me through Anon to good use convincing people to convert. And that, in turn, has allowed for the plan that Father Iskel and I made to restructure the whole district into a more hospitable place to go through!
He muttered. “It’s good to see the faith grow.” And the ability within him pulsed, reminding him of its recent growth to a higher level.
It’s a bit more costly to use now, but the effects are twice what they used to be! Is this the power of the Creator? Because Lady Matweirden never displayed the ability to grant us even a fraction of this strength.
A shadow fell over his eyes at the thought of his Father, Uncle Linus, and all others within the empire and beyond who were all obsessed or devoted to a regional deity that, while powerful, used their followers to enrich themselves rather than freely provide as the Creator does.
I guess that’s the difference. They can only exert influence over a small part of the world, but the Creator. I hear he’s the only deity worshiped the world over, and with multiple denominations too… Even if his presence is weak in some countries… Like ours.
He forced the frown on his face away, and silently prayed as he marched on. ~Thank you Anon. And thank you God. I wouldn’t even be here doing this right now if not for you. And you were right. Everything I need is already within me. All I have to do is try.~ He let the mirth welling up from within hasten his steps and shine in his grin for all to see. ~Forgive me for my impertinent thoughts, but when you get back Anon, I want to show you just how much I’ve grown thanks to you both.~
But little did he know that the shadow that nearly took his life now watched him from an alley before slinking away.
#
Iskel sat in the shade of a tree and rested his weary bones. He swiped sweat from his now tanned brow with a dirty sleeve and smiled, content.
His flock had grown thanks to the aid of the young lord Dresdeth, and with his miraculous displays of power Iskel found that his own magical abilities were now blossoming as well.
Where he could once only heal a scrape or two or suppress the symptoms of a minor illness he could now restore grievous wounds and cure all manner of illnesses and diseases.
He stared down at his slender arm, tired from felling trees with the rest of the wood cutting team, and channeled the mana through it. I can hardly believe it myself. I have so much power now. So many people are making donations too! Yes, we lost the old church, but the new one will be as grand as the Creator deserves!
He looked up at the fat cottony clouds, took a swig of water from the flask at his hip, and watched his fellows work in shifts to bring down every other tree in the area in order to get enough lumber to repair the city.
It’s good to see the whole city acting as one. Even better to see everyone looking ahead after that disaster.> Tears welled up in his eyes.
He muttered, “Praise be.”, as he imagined the face that resembled the parent’s he could only meet in his dreams.
“Father Iskel! We’ve got an emergency! A tree fell on Obard! His leg’s in a bad way!”
A few young men came running up to him, eyes worried, but not overly so. Felling trees was dangerous work, beyond the territorial monsters and animals, there were simply too many things that could go wrong, especially for inexperienced volunteers.
But they had him.
Since the Count handed down the task of woodcutting to the citizens of the outer district, Iskel had volunteered to assist the career lumberjacks and lend his healing magic whenever necessary.
The young lord could handle the reconstruction effort better than he ever could anyway, all he had to do was help with what he could in whatever ways he could, just as the Creator had said.
He hefted himself up, and went jogging over to them. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Let’s go and get rid of the slums together!
#
Ysdra quietly searched the spirit of the next victim with her magic, and slowly, and ever so carefully separated the monster from the man.
Gretkarn’s death had more or less ended the organized onslaught, however with the literal mastermind dead, all of his parasitic progeny were now free to follow their own will and that will was to survive. However, without their originator’s power they were themselves quite frail, so they did the only thing they really could and tried to fuse themselves with their hosts, resulting in the mutations becoming more or less permanent.
That was until Ysdra figured out how to spiritually sever the invader from the host, allowing for physical removal.
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And so a large white tent was erected in the center of the city. It was heavily guarded in case the mentally unstable, and emotionally charged, infected went berserk, and filled with the best physicians and healers in the local area. The line of patients snaked all around the ruins of the central district, all so that one young girl could set them free of their living nightmare.
The toll on her was naturally harsh. She woke each day with dark bags under her eyes, and took frequent breaks to replenish her mana both naturally and artificially, but still she refused to stop.
Ymir, who’d stayed at his little sister’s side to protect her, was unable to keep silent any longer after watching her struggle ever harder. “Please sister, consider your health! You need to–”
The cold look she sent from the corner of her eye stunned him to silence. It was the same look their mother used to give, one that she shouldn’t have been old enough to learn, but still somehow emulated anyway. “You know full well I can’t. I have the power to make a difference for once, and so I’m going to. Lord Anon’s carried us over the hard part through sheer good will and self sacrifice, and we’ve been left with the cleanup. Is it really so strange to repay our debt in kind?”
Ymir hung his head, cowed both by his sister’s ever increasing likeness to their deceased mother and by the mere mention of the living force of nature that called itself Anon. “Your heart is in the right place, but would An– no, Lord Anon want to see you work yourself to death?”
She grimaced, and cut the last spiritual bond that her current patient had with his parasite before sending him off for surgery. Calden, Carmella, Father, and Ygvarge are all hard at work too, but even the late nights they spend confronting the endless piles of administrative documents don’t drain them as much as this.
Ysdra sat down at the chair provided to her within her section of the tent, and the image of Anon’s ever generous smile gently convinced her to rest a little more. “Fine. Ten minutes between each patient. But no more. I have to heal the whole city, and can’t imagine the discomfort they’re having to endure while waiting.”
The corners of Ymir’s lips turned up as he left to inform the scheduling staff, and Ysdra giggled.
She muttered. “No. That's wrong. I don’t need to cure the whole city do I? You did a large portion of it before, didn’t you, Anon? That's why I’m able to do this, and why Calden is able to lead the reconstruction so well. You went around each district and saved all the people necessary to ensure things could be returned to normal the fastest. You never cease to amaze. Thank you.”
#
Carmella trudged down the long dark spiral stairs that led to the innermost chambers of Castle Kalsynth. During the day she had to assist with the overwhelming amount of legislation that needed to be passed for the city to recover, but at night, she’d requested the freedom to use the castle’s resources to look into the identity of the being called Anon.
Her weary legs wobbled and complained incessantly at having to make the long journey down for the fourth day in a row, but she ignored her own fatigue just as she had during her academy days, too enraptured with the prospect of discovery to rest.
The large iron door that waited for her in the small antechamber at the bottom of the stairs didn’t have the same weight or mystery it did on her first night coming here with the Count. She knew it was all in her head, a metaphorical burden created by confronting even a part of the enigma that is Anon, but after all her consideration and calculation the once imposing obstacle was now little more than a waste of her precious time.
She cracked the butt of the iron staff she’d carried since the night of the battle on the stone floor and the gate swung open on its own to let her pass.
Once she was through, it crashed shut behind her, but she ignored the powerful reverberations that echoed within the vaulted chamber, too absorbed in her own thoughts to even notice the noise or the torches along the walls that autonomously sprung to life.
Despite the security, the room was mostly empty. Apart from the tall dark wood shelves that lined much of the walls, each barred by both metal and magic to keep the tomes they held secure, the only other feature was the large and intricate magic triangle that covered the central part of the floor.
To any Order essence magus it would be a treasure trove of formulas to study and interpret, but to all others the three person sized crystals floating about a foot above each of its vertices would be far more interesting–as it didn’t take a genius to realize that they were the power sources that fueled the castle’s mighty magic.
But for Carmella, all this was only a means to an end. As a court mage of an allied territory she’d perused similar books before, and after a cursory inspection, aided by magic, she knew none of the ones here had anything that would help her achieve her aim.
As for the crystals, she’d seen the one’s beneath Castle Dresdeth plenty of times, knew just how powerful they could make her magic, and that was what she needed most right now.
She muttered. “Forgive me Anon. I know I promised to trust in you and your God since that day in Ariadholme, but I must know if you really are who Lord Calden claims…” She pictured the mutated and mind controlled civilians and shuddered. “I need to know that you aren’t like Gretkarn, and puppeting him for your own aims.” She went over the formulae she’d devised in her head one more time, then moved to the control circle along one edge of the triangle, before tapping the staff on the ground and reciting the several minute long incantation. “Now, show me! Show me the true nature of Anon Amos!”
The triangle flared blue, the crystals thrummed, pulsed, then burst into an all consuming flash of light.
Visions assailed her, snippets of sound, fragments of feeling, but none of it made any sense. There was too much for her to catch anything significant and they came too fast for her to glean anything important.
Worst of all she could feel power hemorrhaging out of the crystals as never before. No spell or operation she’d ever performed had required so much mana, yet this one would drain them dry in a few more moments.
Please! Please! I need something! Anything! Some confirmation that Calden isn’t being controlled! Don’t run out until then!
As if to mock her plea, the crystal’s power abruptly surged, and then she felt them shatter along with the flood of information assaulting her mind.
All the foreign sensations evaporated and her vision fell into inky black nothingness that dragged her awareness ever deeper.
Terror clawed its way up from within her heart as she fell further and faster into the utter lack of anything, but before the madness of oblivion could take her, something warm caught her wrist and stopped her fall.
She had no body that she could see or even anything to stand on, but on instinct she whirled around and came face to face with the pure white being gently supporting her.
Neither man nor woman, young nor old, tall nor short, ugly or beautiful, they were ever changing, and utterly captivating. Simply seeing this figure calmed her racing thoughts, and stilled her frayed emotions. Days of fatigue passed as if it had never been, and a supreme calm set in.
Carmella couldn’t divert her attention from them, for she knew at every level of her being that this radiant figure was Anon. Even though they appeared entirely different from the grimy vagabond she normally saw when looking at them, she could tell that this was at least some part of the truth she sought.
And it was glorious.
And when she went to speak her tongue failed her. “Y–you, you’re–”
“Shhh.” Anon smiled and laid a finger over her trembling lips. “You need to be careful, you almost got lost here for good, and really shouldn’t stay for much longer. You don’t belong here. And the kids would cry if you died, now wouldn’t they?”
Her metaphorical eyes widened. D–die? … Yes. I was going to die. Wasn’t I?
The light around Anon intensified, and with a raised hand, they focused it all onto the hand that held her wrist. “Why don’t you head on back now? And take this with you. I think it’s what you were looking for, and the rest can replace what you used up to get here.”
Before she could hope to form a reply, Anon released a blast of power unlike any she’d ever felt before–even in the fight with Gretkarn–and felt her consciousness suddenly snap back into her body.
She gagged, choked, and crumpled to the ground as mana overflowed from her, but instead of running wild like she’d feared, it flowed into the shattered and spent crystals, refilling and reforming them so that they could return power to the castle.
Her vision swam, and her body felt both heavy and light at the same time. She knew it was because she’d used all her mana and then had it forcibly restored, but she never imagined someone would actually do it as most magi consider it a waste.
She swallowed down the bile building in her throat. “T–this is ridiculous. I–it t–takes hundreds of elite magi to fill even one of those crystals even part way, and yet Anon just went and filled all three to the brim… .”
Unable to contain it any longer, she repainted the floor with the contents of her stomach.
Then a calm, otherworldly female voice said.
Carmella pressed a clammy hand to her sweaty brow. “I–I must be dreaming. I–I thought I just heard someone tell me I’m an observer.”
And then she passed out.
#
“Well. That was unexpected.”
My voice echoed off into the void of my sleeping mind and I sighed as I pondered what to do to actually wake up.
I thought it’d just happen naturally, but I’m still out so is there something wrong? Oh, crap! Don’t tell me Carmella came here looking for me because there’s trouble!
I waved a nonexistent hand and several viewing bubbles opened up around me. I could actually control how much I could see now and even move them around to be more conveniently placed unlike before, largely due to the fact that I had mana to spare now–or at least that’s what I assume is the reason for my greater freedom.
Anyway, it didn’t look like Calden, Iskel, the Count, Ysdra, her brothers, or the now very much unconscious Carmella were in any danger, though it did look like several days had passed since the big fight, as reconstruction was already underway.
“Maybe that’s why she tried to find me, guess they’re more worried then they were when they up and buried me… Though I also got the feeling she was looking for information as well, so I hope that little gift helps. Whatever form it takes.”
I shrugged, then, albeit a little hesitantly, I turned to open an image of my body.
Please don’t be buried, please don’t be buried, please don’t be buried! I’ve already woken up underground twice now so for the love of all that’s holy I don’t need a third! My nonexistent jaw dropped. I’m buried… But not how I thought.
Of my body, all I could see were my boots sticking out from beneath the feathered bulk that is Suzy. Meaning that my head was likely under her tail feathers, or as I like to call it, uncomfortably close to an owl butt.
“I guess she’s trying to keep me warm, but what self respecting owl sits with both legs splayed out in front of it like a kid at storytime? I mean, come on! Her tongue is even lolling out of the corner of her beak! What the heck is–”
Then realization struck.
“Oh yeah… She’s kinda recovering from being stuffed and burned to a crisp… Maybe I should cut her a little slack, it can’t be easy regrowing your brain, and she kinda saved the day too, so there’s that.”
I shook my head, trying not to grin like an idiot at the sight of the literal derpy bird, then realized that I’d lost track of Witness during the fight.
I opened another window, and froze at what I saw.
There, at the lakeshore, holding my staff was one of the assassins that came after Calden in Ariadholme. If I recall correctly this one went by the alias Thread, and I really didn’t like the all too pleased smirk on his face.
“Great. Just great. I can’t even take it back, so what the heck do I do from here? Should I watch and see where he whisks Witness? Should I alert Calden that the assassins are back? Or do I try to rouse my sleeping body and risk burning myself out again? Since, ya’know, if I was in tip top shape you’d think I’d have stirred already… Ugh. I hate feeling so powerless!”