Novels2Search
Shards of the Dark Lord
VIII. Lord of Nothing

VIII. Lord of Nothing

The group's footsteps echoed along the smooth stone walls of the cave. The sounds bounced off the damp surfaces, echoing loudly as they made their way back to the vault. Soft clicking noises following behind them followed as the group of skeletons, and even the two severed arms followed on their fingertips.

They reached the hole in the vault, then continued walking to the center of the large room. Abad scanned, looking for anything that he might have missed in his first sweep, but the vault was truly empty now, save for his closet and bath. As they entered, the clicking and clacking noises halted behind them. Looking back, Abad noticed that the skeletons were fanning out, heaving in different directions on unknown commands. He'd have to ask the book about that later.

After a few minutes, they arrived in the center of the room. The skeleton stepped aside, letting Abad pass him and cross the edge of the magic circle first. As he did, he reached out with his senses and felt into the grooves he had carved long before. The power in the circle was faint now, causing that light that used to glow from its lines to be nearly invisible. All enchantments needed to be periodically charged, and it had been far too long since this one had. He would have to repair it whenever he returned.

He frowned as he walked to the center of the circle, where his old spellbook used to rest on its stone dais, which was unceremoniously toppled over now. He leaned down and picked it up. Even if it was a small step forward, he was happy to do it. His spellbook would look fantastic once it was placed back in its rightful place.

He heard the clicking of skeletal footsteps behind him. As the skeleton stepped into the old magic circle, the seal's magic flared to life, causing the floor to glow a soft blue. How could the book recharge the seal so easily?

As it stepped forward, Abad watched as the skeleton ripped the book from its ribs. With a flourish, its covers opened, and a page fell out of the book. The skeleton snatched it out of the air and handed it to the warlock.

"Student, it is time for you to reclaim another piece of your former self. You know this spell well. Etch it into your mind and cast it. I will supply to you the essence necessary to do so this time. You will not be drained as you were." As the last word escaped the creature's mouth, it placed its bony hand on Abad's shoulder.

[Essence Transfer]

The warlock felt as a channel between the book and himself was opened... No, it wasn't opened. The boundaries between them were thrown open as easily as tearing paper, and as if a funnel was shoved into his chest, the molten iron of the book's essence was poured into him. The being's mana rushed through him, and he felt himself fill with essence. His senses sharpened, his mind raced, and his muscles bulged as every corner of his spirit overflowed with power. It was glorious; he felt invincible! Stronger then he ever had! Reaching out through their connection, Abad tried to sense the book's spirit.

His jaw dropped.

The skeleton, or the book it held, had what felt like an endless see of mana. There were no boundaries to the book's spirit, no edge from which he could sense the void. He also couldn't sense life force within at all, revealing the book to be a purely magical creation. A small glimmer of negative energy was submerged deep within the waters like a dead fish floating within the endless abyss. Abad surmised that that kernel of energy must be the skeleton's animating essence. It was nothing in comparison to the sea it floated in.

Abad had owned the book for decades before his death, but he had never thought much of it. After his teacher passed and he found it on her lap, he merely assumed that his master had crafted a memento to serve three roles in his life: to contain her knowledge and memories so that he might call on them in times of need, to act as a repository of her magical knowledge in case he ever forgot something, and to be a thorn in his side if he ever got too uppity. The book had always filled those roles nicely, and it never said otherwise. And since the book had never opened its spirit to him in the past, he never assumed his master had created such a wondrous item.

He always took it for an annoying-but-useful book and a sometimes friend when he was bored. Had he known what it truly was, he would have given it the greatest place of honor in the vault.

Concentrating, the essence inside the book felt familiar. It felt like every ounce of his master's formidable essence was contained within it, though the feeling wasn't one to one, at least not from his memory. Considering magical items needed charging every so often to remain functional, and the book still contained what felt like an endless amount of mana, the late orc's skills were still leagues above anything he had ever achieved.

In that moment, he was truly humbled. As he was, the gulf between them felt impossible to cross.

"Student, I do not lend my power frivolously. Read the page, and let us be away from here."

Abad's mind was pulled back to the present by the creature's words. Holding the paper up, he read it. His scroll unfurled, and words appeared on its page.

----------------------------------------

[Teleportation Circle] (5th Circle, Granted): Allows the caster to modify a magical circle so that it allows teleportation to and from other circles found throughout the land.

----------------------------------------

"Angra, come to me. We should stay close. My skills are rusty, and I don't want one of us to end up somewhere unexpected."

The little imp fluttered up to him and alighted on his shoulder. She felt lighter than she did before, which he was grateful for.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

"Everyone ready?"

The skeleton and the imp nodded.

He took a deep breath and cast the spell.

[Teleportation Circle]

Essence poured from the skeleton into Abad and from Abad into the seal. At first, the light stayed dim, continuing to illuminate the dark space in a soft blue glow. But as they looked, the seal grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until every inch of his vault was visible in true light.

Hazarding a brief glance, Abad looked around at the vault in true light. It looked even worse than it did in the dark. He pulled his attention back to the seal.

He could feel the essence pool into the seal's deep grooves. He allowed his senses to drift into the essence that poured out of him. From the center of the seal, he extended his senses outward, allowing himself to feel it all. He could feel every inch of the seal. Every symbol had been masterfully carved by a more impressive version of himself. Every angle had been perfectly measured. Every line had been carefully carved. Reaching his senses out to feel the entire seal, he could sense everything. And there, at the very edge, under the remains of a ruined chest, was something he hadn't crafted.

He could feel his essence seep into stone. He could feel the runes, forming some form of sigil whose purpose he couldn't guess. He felt his essence begin to meld fill the thing, filling it, until it filled completely. The chest above it caught fire, filling the large hall with acrid smoke. As it burned, the smoke didn't fill the space. Instead, he felt a small wave of energy release from the magical construct as its magic activated. The smoke from the chest formed into the shape of a man, and a moment later, he was looking at Nocturne, one of the seven.

The man had always been unnerving. He was exceptionally tall but stooped dramatically, causing him to stand shorter than Abad. His body was emaciated, with bluish bruised skin that he kept covered with long, flowing clothes, but the long black sleeveless robes he wore left his long arms exposed, hanging flaccidly at his sides. The most unnerving of Nocturne's many unnerving qualities were his eyes, which were empty black pits that reflected no light. Once he was fully formed in the chest's smoke, the man turned to face him.

"Hello, old friend," the man said with a particular emphasis on the final word. He bowed, keeping his eyes trained on Abad as he did, and smiled, revealing his perfect white teeth. "It has been many long years since we last spoke. For that, I'm grateful. The world, and my ears, has been spared from your incessant prattling." The man rose from his mocking bow and stood tall, towering over the group before slumping back down.

"What are you doing, Nocturne?" Abad asked the image.

"Knowing you, you are likely attempting to speak to me at this moment. However, this image is simply a reflection of myself in this time and place. Know, deceiver, that you won't be able to talk your way out of what will be done to you. What I will do to you." The man's smile faded.

"The world is better for your leaving it, Abad-Shai. While Selene, contrary to my advice, saw fit to help you along once she realized you were still alive, I am not so kind. Were I a lucky man, you would have simply died to the blade of the hero. Alas, I am not so lucky. Barring your death, I would see you remain here forever, stuck in your little vault for eternity. However, I am far too shrewd to believe that you won't wake up and find a means to escape. You will find a way back into the light of the towers. Like a roach, you always return, no matter how many times you're swatted away." The image breathed deeply, a raspy rattle escaping its throat.

"I followed Selene as she came back to your vault. The woman always had a soft spot for you. I never saw it. Likewise, cunning as she is, she never saw me, never suspected that I would follow once I learned from her that you were alive. I followed her into the Depths, knowing that she'd lead me to you. And when she snuck away from her little band of sacrifices, I followed. I watched as she tied some little waif she picked up in a backwater to your bed, a sacrifice for when you wake up. I saw your little creature hiding in the shadows, grinding its teeth. I saw your little coffin and smiled, knowing you were locked inside."

The skeleton's glowing red eyes narrowed as it listened to the image, and Angra shook, wrapping her arms around Abad's neck.

"I am here, in the silence, cursing your little coffin and crafting this sigil so that, when the day comes that you walk amongst us once again, I will have won. So that when you stand among the living, so sure you'll return to the land above, your journey will end in disappointment and rage, your hope dashed against the impenetrable wall that is my hate." The man sneered at him. "This sigil will deny you your dreams. Your circle will fail, and your way out will be barred. You will not have the future you wish for. I refuse to live in a world that allows you to live in it again."

The man held his hands out and looked directly at Abad. "You always enjoyed your titles, so how about this: I hereby dub thee Abad-Shai, Lord of Nothing. May this title be your final reminder of who you truly are. Enjoy."

Abad's scroll unfurled, and black words etched themselves upon it.

----------------------------------------

[Lord of Nothing]: Mockingly bestowed upon you, marking you as one who wanders lost, forgotten by both allies and enemies alike. Your ability to be remembered or named by others is suppressed, causing people to quickly forget your existence.

----------------------------------------

With these words, the man laughed uproariously as he melted away into the smoke, which immediately dissipated into the air. Nocturne's sigil dissolved, and his black essence spilled out and into the teleportation circle. The man's corrosive mana began consuming not only the spellform itself but also the carvings on the floor. Abad could feel his essence begin to spill out of the magic circle and into the space beyond.

The skeleton squeezed his shoulder tightly. "Student, activate the spell. I will give to you and the little one enough of my essence to survive the trip. I did not know another had been here and could not feel the manifestations of his presence. For that, I am sorry." The old book had never apologized for anything before.

The skeleton's essence flowed into him, filling him with more power than he had ever felt. The seal on the floor grew so bright that his vision went completely blank. "Know that I trust that you will grow strong and find your path, just as my creator once did. For now, fare thee well, Abad-Shai, Master of the Vault."

Abad's heart raced. He reached up to Angra with his right arm and held her tight. She wrapped her arms around his. He focused on holding the ruptured seal's essence in as much as he could, but it was futile. He resolved himself to what would come next. This would hurt. Raising his left hand up in front of himself, he looked into the skeleton's glowing red orbs for a moment longer, and when he saw the undead creature give a soft nod, he gritted his teeth and snapped his fingers.

He saw words appear in his mind's eye as the world shifted and bent around him.

----------------------------------------

[Master of the Vault]: As someone who devoted his entire being to his life’s work, this title marks you as a true keeper of lost knowledge and forgotten relics. You will always know in what direction your vault lies and the best path to get there, and you have a second sense for finding valuable items and equipment.

----------------------------------------

And then, he was gone.