Saren had never felt so at peace.

Bathed in a cascading column of golden light that enveloped each and every feather on his body, the owlen felt no emotion save for an endless, eternal calm… with a sunlit dash of hope. Serenity he had never known coursed through his very veins as life mana swelled within him, expertly guided to where it was needed by both his own mind and the will of the oracle of embers.

The ceremony of lesser ascension was intended to be the final purification one underwent before reaching the journeyman levels and choosing their next class. By Gold Spire tradition, it was typically undergone only by those who were at the end of the journeyman ranks, level 19. Even then, only those who had also spent more than a year in self-imposed isolation meditating on the nature of the Light were officially eligible.

Saren was, admittedly, skirting more than one of the historical rules here. But since the oracle himself had suggested it, claiming he was ready, who was he to say otherwise?

“Still your mind, Zealot.” The oracle ordered, his rumbling voice coming through despite the furious storm of sound all around them. “Focus. The next stage is upon us. Now… Open your eyes to the Light.”

Immediately, Saren obeyed. Tilting his back in order to stare directly into the column of golden mana crashing down onto him, and opening his eyes. Endless, golden flames met him and it took everything the owlen had not to flinch. Not to scream or roll out of the way as the Light seared him… and cleansed him. Bore away his fears, doubts, and concerns, and left behind only a rock-solid conviction in the glory of its eternal cause.

We bring Light, so that others may share its warmth. Saren thought, repeating the ritual words in his mind so that he didn’t inadvertently open his beak and scorch his own throat. Wherever we go, the Light goes with us, in us, around us… and its grace moves us ever forward on its path.

The next several lines were harder for Saren to focus on, as his feathers and flesh melted, then healed, then were melted again as the power of the Light intensified all around him. While the Oracle maintained the ritual, Saren’s focus was split between performing his own part and spending his temporarily endless mana like water to keep himself alive. Years of training had taught him that pain could be tolerated, but the full-body searing of one’s flesh was an altogether different experience.

By the fourth cycle, his screams were involuntary. By the eighth, they were uncontrollable. Not that anyone save maybe the oracle could hear them. While this ritual was traditionally undergone at the top of the spire, they were currently hidden inside a cave that was, itself, buried under the sands on the outskirts of the city. Nobody outside would hear him. Not if he lived, and not if he died.

We serve the Light, so that we may show others the true path. Saren thought, his every muscle clenched as tightly as he could manage. And where we go–-

There was a flicker in the golden flames, there and gone so quickly Saren almost didn’t believe it. A vision of a glowing woman diving chest-first onto the edge of a blade. The faces of Wain and Bacchus, twisted and howling in pain. But then it was gone, and with a grit born of the determination to avenge his friends, the owlen finished the ritual.

And where we go, there are no shadows.

Abruptly, the column of endless, golden flames he had been sitting in – or laying in, rather – cut off like a blown candle. His vision blurred, and the sudden relief that followed as the cool air met his feathers was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He basked in it, heedless of the still-smoking stone slab beneath him, as he pondered the meaning of the twin visions the Light had given him.

Such things were relatively uncommon for those not on an Oracle’s path, but not unheard of. Especially in ceremonies like these.

Am I to tread the path of Embers as well? The thought was not as outlandish as it might once have been, but something about that first vision had disturbed him. Was that… Isla?

“Your pardon, Zealot.” The oracle rumbled from somewhere nearby, and Saren sat up at once. He had almost forgotten the massive bear was there. “For my failure.”

Failure? Had something gone wrong with the ritual? No, I recited all of the words. It can’t have–

A prompt appeared in Saren’s vision, bright streams of golden light serving as its borders while a chorus of voices sang in glorious harmony. Shining metallic text heralded his new class options, but the owlen quickly stored the prompt away for later review. If something had gone wrong, he dared not make a choice now. He stood, turning to face the bearkin.

“Pardon, but… what failure?” Saren asked, blinking away the last vestiges of the searing light from his vision. “The ritual worked. I have the prompt, it said–”

Before Saren could say another word, the Oracle of Embers raised one heavy, singed paw and the owlen cut himself off. Sightless eyes stared off into the distance somewhere above them.

“Another maiden has chosen to accept the light.” The bearkin rumbled, and Saren’s heart twisted in his stomach. “I saw this coming, but not so soon. Something must have shifted the commander’s plans. Your friend–”

“Isla.” Saren said, the name of his former instructor forming like ash in his mouth. So it had been her in his vision. That had to be the fastest turnaround on foresight that the owlen had ever encountered. “I saw her– in the ritual. Through the flames. She was throwing herself on a sword.”

A singed eyebrow raised in surprise, but soon settled back down. The oracle nodded somberly.

“Had I not suggested this ritual, my attention would not have been diverted towards its preparation. We might have stopped it. For that…” The oracle bowed his head in Saren’s direction. “I am sorry.”

The owlen didn’t respond right away, feeling like a knife had just been driven into his ribs. It wasn’t the oracle’s fault, he knew that. If anyone was to blame, it was Commander Derald.

Or me… Saren knew he shouldn’t blame himself for being too weak to stop the Inmortu when he had first met that foul creature, and had he faced the necromancer behind it he would almost certainly have perished. But that logic didn’t stop him from feeling like if he had stopped it back then, then he wouldn’t have just lost another friend.

“Where is she?” Saren demanded, desperation leaving decorum at the door as a plan began to form in his mind. “If she’s just transformed, then maybe you can–”

“I cannot stop it, nor can I reverse the process.” The oracle said, and though Saren’s hopes fell the bearkin continued. “There may, however, be another way.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll do it.” Saren swore immediately. He went to one knee before the oracle, his tone becoming pleading. “Please. I owe her too much to leave things as they were. Our last conversation was a fight she didn’t deserve. I–”

A singed paw raised for silence once more.

“Peace, Zealot. I will tell you.” The bearkin rumbled, though now his sightless eyes bore directly into the owlen’s own. “But I warn you now, if you want any piece of her to survive… you will need the strength of will to carry it all the way through. You must allow no hesitation, or you will fail, and Isla’s sacrifice will mean naught.”

“I will not hesitate.”

“I pray you do not, Zealot.” The oracle’s gaze returned to staring up in the direction of Dervash. “I pray you do not. However, you must make haste soon. Your… allies… have just been discovered.”

Saren’s back stiffened, and the owlen stood up as if to leave. He almost selected his class right then and there, as doing so would undoubtedly help him reach wherever it was Sean and Gel needed help sooner, but now was not the time. If it had been, the Oracle would not have interrupted him earlier.

“Where?”

“In the merchant quarter outside of the Spire’s west gate.” The bearkin’s expression was unreadable, but Saren thought he detected a hint of sadness to it. “She is there.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Saren’s eyes widened. If Isla had discovered them, then there was no time to waste. They might already be dead. But the oracle hadn’t yet told him to–

“Go.” The bearkin ordered, his deep voice echoing off the walls as he waved a singed paw in the air. A section of sand the size of Saren’s house fell down, revealing the hidden exit to the world above. “And as for the way I mentioned…”

Wind was already swirling around the owlen’s legs as the oracle spoke, and his last words sent a chill down Saren’s spine that lingered even as he flew off in the direction of Dervash as fast as he could.

“Heed the Light’s gift, Zealot. Some choices are not impossible to make, only to live with after.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe it’s that easy.” Sean said mentally to Gel, as they both watched the furniture store clerk shuffle off towards the back of the store. “He really just has it waiting back there for us? No epic adventure? No increasingly convoluted series of fetch quests?”

“That’s what he said!” Gel said brightly, clearly pleased. “I’ll bet I can even get him to deliver it to the store for us. He looked a little nervous when we showed him that scroll she gave us, if it costs us two whole silver I’ll be surprised.”

“If he actually knew Auntie Ta, then he had a right to be nervous.” Sean quipped, remembering the ferocity with which she had fought the giants. Not to mention the sheer amount of magical lightning she had called down. “I’ll bet he does it for free.”

“He did sound happy to be rid of it…” Gel mused. “I’ll have him send it the day after tomorrow, just to be safe. Don’t want to get interrupted mid-feast now, do we?”

“You want an all day feast to commemorate MOB?” Sean asked, amused. “I know we’ve still got a bunch of coin on our hands, but can we even afford that?”

“Ohh, we can afford it. Don’t you worry about that.” Gel assured him, before sounding a bit more serious. “But it’s not just for MOB.”

“Oh?” Sean had to admit to a bit of curiosity there, as he tracked the movements of the store clerk throughout the building with his pulse sense. It never hurt to be safe, just in case the man had suspected something and had disappeared only as an excuse to alert the city guards. “Then what’s it for?”

“Us!” Gel said immediately, and with such fervor that Sean actually glanced down at his chest– before returning his gaze to the nearby furniture so he didn’t look like he was staring at himself.

“We’ve done so much!” Gel continued. “We evolved, infiltrated the city, took out one of Bancroft’s cousins – or distant cousin maybe, their family tree is all over the place – and stole his shop only to make it into our lair… and that’s not even mentioning all the new tastes we keep finding. I say we deserve a celebration, and what better way to celebrate than by scarfing down great food all day? It’s a perfect idea. Best one I’ve ever had.”

Sean felt a pang of sadness for his inability to actually taste any of the no-doubt wonderful new flavors here, but he tried not to let it leak over to Gel. There was no use crying over spilt milk or dissolved tongues. Besides, at least he could still cook. He even had a new, likely inexhaustible sous chef!

Gel’s got the right of it. Death has been looking up ever since we got here. Sean realized, and he made his decision. They did deserve a celebration.

“Fair enough, I’m in. We’ll have to stop and grab more supplies on the way back, though.”

“If I ever complain about that, I want you to know you have accidentally swallowed an imposter.” Gel said, with utter sincerity.

“Hey ‘nomi, you got any recipes we can celebrate with?” Sean asked, trying out a new nickname for the omnomicon even as he wondered how exactly he was going to bake a cake with nothing but a magical pot. I guess I could seal it, turn it into a mini-oven? Managing the heat distribution would be the real issue, really. Nobody likes a burnt bottom half with sog on top. Maybe do it like a pineapple upside-down cake? That could work…

“... are you referring to me?” The omnomicon asked, its irritation at the new moniker evident. “Because I will have you know I have melted men and monsters down to the marrow of their very bones for lesser insults.”

“Sure am.” Sean deadpanned. “Got any recipes for cake? Is that a thing here?”

“Of course.” The cursed cookbook said curtly. “I can show you how to make flour out of bone meal if we can find the right additives to balance it out. Ocular icing is always a crowd favorite as well, and a myriad of options exist for making blood jelly separation layers. It will depend on the price level of congealing we are working with of course, and some races’ blood congeals faster than others– so fresh is best here. I would recommend a live captive, at least initially. That should give us a few liters for experimentation.”

Sean paused, suddenly finding himself with many, many questions. Gel however, spoke first.

“What’s marrow?” The slime asked curiously, and in that moment it was like Sean could see the future. If his friend ever found out there was something digestible inside bones, the very nature of their relationship might change forever.

“Nothing important.” Sean said quickly, just as the store clerk headed back over to them. The man’s timing was flawless. Thank Death for that.

As Sean wondered where that thought had come from – it had felt as natural as ‘thank god’ back on earth – Gel finished up their negotiations. The clerk was only too happy to deliver, and not fifteen minutes later they were back out in the brisk, evening air. Around them, the streets were just beginning to thin out. Which is why what Sean saw first came as such a surprise.

A squad of Gold Spire paladins, some fifteen or twenty deep, were carrying what looked like an honest-to-Death palanquin through the streets. Heavy boots stomped the bricks in practiced rhythm as they marched, and every single one of them was armed.

“Wonder where they’re going.” Sean said as he watched them pass, once again grateful for their disguise. “Think Saren did something already?”

Gel was silent for a moment, which was uncharacteristic of the slime so Sean simply waited for the procession to pass. This wasn’t their first time encountering paladins in the city. There were both more and less of them than the geladin had expected, but none had ever looked twice at them so far so Sean viewed this new troop as more of a curiosity than anything else.

“Hey, hey! I knew it! Look, look!” Gel declared suddenly, and Sean felt a tug inside his robe as the slime tried to pull him towards the procession. “It’s him!”

“Who?”

“You can’t tell? Look at those disgusting abominations!” Gel cried in outrage, though despite his best efforts Sean couldn’t tell what had set his friend off.

“... What abominations?” The geladin asked, turning his head to scan up and down the street again. There were no monsters that he could see. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Just people milling abou–

“His socks!” Gel cried out in exasperation, tugging at his chest again as the slime’s hidden tendril poked a single eyeball ever so slightly out of the bottom of his robes. “Look, right over there. Right in front of those paladins. See him? The one walking right beside them. The one whose feet are probably crying out for help right now, begging to be dissolved because even that would be a better fate than suffering inside those insufferable boots. Come on, tell me you see them. They’re hideous!”

“Oh, wow. Those are bad. Even I know those are bad.” Sean said, immediately judging the man for his blatantly poor choice of footwear. Footwear that looked like his costume director held an active grudge against him.

“That’s the guy the giants got their information on Auntie Ta from!” Gel said, excitedly. “Quick, let’s go after him!”

“He’s surrounded by paladins, and I left my sword back at the lair in case I had to carry a wardrobe all the way back.” Sean pointed out, wondering what the odds were that they would run into this guy right as they were finishing up an errand for the very same druid he had supposedly betrayed. Even so, he fell into step a good ways behind the procession and began following. “So hopefully he either splits off or stops at home soon, and then we can just come knock on his door tomorrow.”

“Hmmm… Looks like he’s with them, actually.” Gel said a few minutes later, and Sean couldn’t help but agree. The man they were now following had been chatting with the paladins almost the entire time, and showed no interest in any of the side streets or shops.

“If he goes into the Gold Spire compound, then I guess helping Saren was the right move after all.” Sean quipped, glancing up and noting that they were indeed headed that direction. The paladins’ central building was anything but subtle, you could see it for miles out. The structure was so needlessly gaudy Sean hadn’t even needed Gel to tell him what it was the first time they had seen it.

Who decorates with gold leaf in the desert?

“I knew it was.” Gel said immediately. “But if he does go in there, I say we wait for him to come out.”

“We still need to eat.” Sean pointed out, glancing at his countdown clock. “We’ve only got about twenty minutes left before we need to either stop somewhere or get back to the lair, otherwise we’ll be down some mana if a fight breaks out.”

The second the words left his mind, Sean knew he had jinxed it. Ahead of them, the palanquin’s interior shone with a sudden flash of bright, yellow light. The paladins carrying it stopped immediately, as if the flash had been some kind of signal. Then a window at the back of the palanquin opened up, and a pair of blazing golden eyes stared in their direction.

“Uh-oh.” Gel said. “Is it just me or does she look like we just ate her dinner right in front of her?”

Sean hadn’t stopped to see what she was mad about. He was already turning around, hitching his robe up his shoulders and heading swiftly towards the nearest group of people to try and blend in. The ones who had been going the other way, who were amongst the very few in the street not currently staring at whoever that had been playing lighthouse beacon in the palanquin.

Of course. Sean thought, as a wave of cold fury and revulsion rose up within him as life mana swelled nearby.

It had to be the one time I leave the store without my damn sword.