1: New World
A sword. A sword is drawn. A sword is sharpened. A sword is polished. Polished to flash like lightning, sharpened for slaughter.
In a shadowed valley, desolate and furrowed, no green thing grew and vile crawling things scraped the earth.
The clouds gathered, roiling black and white and darkest gray. A man paced the barren soil. A blazing white cloak draped about him and billowed behind and his face was like lightning. His hair was brilliant and brilliant white, though concealed beneath his cloak, and he stopped in a certain place.
The clouds rumbled and a voice like many waters crashed down, “Tell me, son of man, can these bones live again?”
The man looked up. His features were strong and handsome and he smiled, “You know they can.”
The clouds rumbled again, almost seeming to laugh, “Then command them and bring forth my servant.”
“As you will.” The man stretched out his hand, blazing like fiery bronze, and the four winds rushed to it. They departed and set upon the soil, ripping and digging new furrows as many bones came to light.
Many thousands came to light and those chosen assembled before the man, “Live!” he commanded and he breathed upon them.
New flesh and sinews rushed over them until a man was formed, a strong young man without blemish.
“Live!” the man commanded again and he breathed again. The breath rushed into the young man’s nostrils and he suddenly breathed, his blue eyes opening wide.
“Sleep,” the man commanded and the young man slumbered once more, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
The man gestured and the four winds came together, guarding the young man in a thin flexible blue armor underlaid with navy blue cloth, and bound by brown leather straps.
“Good,” the man approved and the winds danced around him before he nodded. They fled to the four corners once more.
The young man floated down and his boots came to rest on the ground. His eyes flashed open. His gaze was sharp and he spoke in an ancient language.
The man smiled. He reached out and touched the young man’s forehead and he shuddered.
He stood with his eyes closed for long seconds then opened them, “How did I come to be here?” he asked.
“You know. You died here on this ancient battlefield. But now the great one has brought you back to life. You died in ignorance, but now you will be given another chance to serve a new master.”
The young man hardened his eyes, “I am Arthur, king of all England. I could not have died.”
The man chuckled, “Were you king of all England? Did not those rebels from the south invade and destroy your army and cut off your very head?”
Arthur glared at him but his fists were tight, his frame taut.
The man lifted his hand, “More than sixteen centuries have passed since you lived and there is still much you need to learn.”
Arthur looked at that hand and knew he should not escape it. He could feel it in his bones that the world was changed and that contained within was the knowledge to understand this new earth.
He needed knowledge to survive, not only to survive but conquer. He nodded and the man placed his hand once more.
It remained there much longer this time and Arthur stood still. He opened his eyes then immediately covered them, turning his face to heaven. A deep laugh started in his gut and soon roared to the sky. He took away his hand. New clarity and certainty shown in his eyes. “How foolish! How utterly foolish!”
How foolish he was to call himself king! What king!? Were they not merely children playing? And where did they play? Not in a dangerous wild but in the garden of their parents, counting themselves heroes as they explored level paths.
Was he not even subject to servants and powerless before the weakest of them, should they choose to act? And what stopped them from acting? Was it not entirely the wrath of their master and the force of law? How foolish! How utterly foolish!
He laughed again and turned his face to heaven once more, to the rumbling and churning clouds.
The man nodded and his eyes burned like rings of molten amber, “Remember this and you will do well.”
He exhaled then shook his head. He was not so very old when he died, still a young man of twenty two, but he was old enough, “I will not forget, of that you can be sure.”
The man laughed, “Very good then, I will permit you to call me Kyrios.”
Arthur lifted his eyebrows, “Is that your name?”
“It is. I have many true names but this is amongst their truest, if such delineations can be made.” He smiled, “though it is enough that you call me Kyrios and act accordingly.”
He supposed it wasn’t his place to argue.
“So then, you understand your commission?”
He closed his eyes, “Is this power you’ve given me real? Can I rely upon it?”
A twinkle, somehow, entered those burning eyes, “It is more real than anything in creation. If it cannot be relied upon, nothing can.”
Arthur nodded then smiled, guilefully, “In that case it is my pleasure to serve.”
Kyrios chuckled, “It won’t be easy, you know, taking on the entire world.”
Arthur shrugged, “What use is easy?” He glanced again at the rumbling clouds. “I have already died once, I think if I die again it should pose no problem.”
“You are right, death holds no terror for my servants, but if you die again it will be the end of your second chance, and any lives you might save.”
Arthur pondered this and Kyrios smiled, “From now on your name will be Jason MacGregor. It is a name in keeping with your birthplace.”
Arthur, now Jason, nodded, “Good, then send me on my way.” He had much to do.
“We’ll meet again.”
“See you soon,” he said with a short salute.
He smiled more broadly, “And waste no time.”
“Why would I?”
He laughed then the universe went black.
***
It brightened and Jason became aware of many sensations. He found himself sitting in a comfy chair of supple leather. It was one of many arranged throughout the huge coffee shop with more than twenty such leather and mahogany oases spaced about. He got up. The espresso machines whistled, a rich fresh brew was in the air, and he breathed deeply.
Unanthropomorphized robots worked behind a long counter and he headed straight for the door. It opened without so much as a whisper and he stepped through.
“Whoa…” He stood on a glass walkway forty yards wide and forty stories up and towering glass structures soared in every direction. Iridescent spirals, fluted brocades, and cobalt ovals, they took every shape and glinting glass sky bridges connected every one of them.
Innumerable drones with backward curving wings, like crescent moons, slipped silently through the air and a dozen aerodynamic solar cars stood waiting. These would take him wherever he needed to go.
He ran a hand through his hair. So this was 2275. He felt a little light headed. Kyrios had relaid all kinds of information but it was all verbal. Now he had truly stepped into the modern world.
Stolen novel; please report.
One thing that struck him was the sheer cleanness of the air. In his time there was always the stench of sewage, the sweat of men, and the musk of animals, but now he smelled only the faint freshness of flowers. This made sense given that the walkway was lined down the middle with flower beds.
He looked towards the waiting solar cars but didn’t move. There was something else he had to test first. He could feel it, burning his chest, the source of his new life and his hope of triumph. It was indeed like a burning fire right where is heart should be, yet without pain, and he could feel warmth circulating naturally throughout his entire body.
He stood very still and closed his eyes. So this was his new source of life. Kyrios had called it mana and it burned steadily with no sign of failure.
He touched his chest. Kyrios had promised much more than just life. He looked at his right hand. He willed the heat in his chest towards it and visualized the result. Bzzcrk!” a six inch ball or crackling blue lightning appeared in his palm. Incredible!
He could feel the heat in his chest actively flowing down his arm and into the ball and yet it never faltered. He focused, changing his will. In a moment the ball transformed from lightning to a perfect sphere of shining white mist. Beautiful and inviolate it floated above his palm and produced the strong yet sweet scent of incense..
He used free hand to touch it, finding that it really was like mist, cooling mist. So this was the Holy element, able to heal any injury, and the bane of every curse.
He focused again and the ball took on an almost solid appearance, having a golden hue. This was the Earth element and the last of his talents. Of the seven elements, these three were uniquely suited to the role of a protector. Such hunters were called tanks, and that’s exactly what he would be.
Staring at it, he smiled grimly. He could already feel the slight strain on his arm and chest just from creating the spheres. This was one of the many limitations of magic. Mana was no tame force but a refining fire. Every iota of it that passed through the body would cause a certain amount of stress and even damage.
He dismissed the sphere. With a shift of will he sent pure Holy mana into his arm, instantly relieving its fatigue. At its core Holy mana worked by restoring things to their ideal state. Whatever physiological realities caused fatigue, it was no shock that Holy could undo them, even restoring stronger and better than before.
He cocked his head. The only limitation of healing magic was that the patient had to hold still. He honestly didn't know why this was but figured it has something to do with the function of muscles. It couldn't be easy, even with magic, to restore them with them constantly bunching, stretching, and twisting beneath the skin. He flexed his bicep, feeling perfectly renewed. There were certain skills that could render healing almost instant but he didn't have any at that moment.
He noticed a young man watching him and smiled. He supposed seeing magic in person was still interesting even in that day and age. Only about 1/100 people were hunters after all. He nodded to the young man then turned aside. There would be plenty of time to experiment later but for now he had things to do.
He walked tentatively to one of the waiting cars. It had a sleek design with an electric blue paint job. It had gullwing doors and the driverside opened the moment he came within five feet.
He hesitated. Was he really afraid of some fancy carriage? He slid in. The seats were rich leather and a big green button dominated the center touchscreen.
He lifted a hand. He pressed it.
“Good morning sir, where would you like to go?”
Wow… “I would like to go to the Fortress Guild.”
“Understood, they have an office in Belltown and one in the city center. Which would you prefer?”
He frowned. Kyrios had arranged an interview with Fortress that day but he hadn’t told him which location. Maybe the computer could help. “I have an interview. Can you ask Fortress which location it’s at?”
“One moment, sir.”
He nodded. In the mid twenty first century computers had become extremely personable but people eventually realized this was unhealthy. The problem was that humans soon found it difficult to tell the difference between a human and a machine. This might seem like a solution to human loneliness but it actually just exacerbated the crisis.
Deep down humans knew that they weren’t making a real connection. They were talking to a machine with no feelings of its own, giving calculated responses to try and make them happy. This ultimately just tortured the lonely masses and new laws were instituted to help people really connect, not with machines but with each other.
The car spoke again, “After speaking with the Fortress guild’s main AI, I have determined that your interview is on the seventy sixth floor at the downtown office, room D-35 at 10 am. Would you like me to bring you there?”
He nodded then realized he had to give a clear command, “Yes.”
“Very good sir, that will be 2 sc.”
“SC, ie, standard credits. Every citizen would receive a supply of them once a week, coded to their biometrics. It was actually a testament to Kyrios’ power that he could not only bring him to life in the main city system (Seattle had one of the most advanced in the world) but also in the memory of every private AI.
This was one of the reasons it was humanly impossible to hack any of the various AI, they were always talking to each other, confirming their data, and if they didn’t all match up at all times they would instantly go looking for the reason. Add to this the advanced state of biometrics, the absolute glut of surveillance drones, and criminals had basically given up.
He wondered, could a perfect clone beat the system? He laughed. Here he was, brand new to the twenty third century, and he was already thinking about how to beat the collective AIs.
That was none of his business. He was a hunter and would reside in dungeons. He would merely repose in this world of servos and superconductors. For now all he needed to do was go to Fortress, that was his first step. “Accept,” he agreed.
“Confirmed, we should arrive in three minutes and fourteen seconds.”
He smiled. It seemed Kyrios hadn’t dropped him off far from his destination, just far enough for him to see a little of the city.
The windows rolled up and the car zipped out of line then down a ramp Jason hadn’t seen before. Suddenly he was in a deluge of zooming cars and the taxi accelerated to 50kph. He grabbed onto the door.
The console beeped, “Fortress has informed me that they will not permit entry for another 23 minutes. Is there anywhere you would like to go in the meantime?”
Jason considered, “Take me to see the dungeon, just to where I can see it.”
“Detouring to view the exterior of the Evergreen Star Dungeon will cost an additional 2.3 SC. Is this acceptable?”
“Accept.”
The car zoomed off a side ramp then suddenly up a steep track. It merged onto a wider road and its speedometer shot from 50 to 200 in about ten seconds. Buildings flashed by then they shot out over a clean expanse of water, only a narrow glass road beneath them.
His stomach fell out from under him and he held on tighter.
He caught his breath. There it was, to the south, a mountain of smoky emerald, streaked with topaz ice. Indeed, it was big as a mountain, as Mt. Rainier stood beside it, being more than a thousand feet shorter. He exhaled. 100 floors high, every tier was in the shape of a square but each had a different orientation, creating a many pointed structure.
Each tier was also slightly smaller than the previous with 40 foot drifts piling in every corner. This did indeed give the impression of a mountain, yet this was indubitably a crafted structure, with every gleaming tier being exactly as tall as the previous, and exactly 0.7% smaller, for anyone to see. This was something that had been extensively studied and confirmed by human surveyors.
He closed his fists in awe. It was beautiful and terrifying, but he felt mostly excitement.
“How close to the dungeon would you like to go sir? I can bring you as far as the entrance for an additional 4sc.”
“No, this is enough for now.” He would be entering the dungeon very soon, that very day, he didn’t need to go all the way to the entrance right then and there.
The car moved over into a switch lane, this running perpendicular to the highway, and stopped. “I can remain here for 1 minute for no additional charge,” it stated.
He smiled. He supposed that would have to do. He spent the minute staring out the window, memorizing every aspect of the dungeon, the sunlit glint of its edges, the artistic ‘disorganization’ of its structure. It would be his new home for most of his life, and the catalyst of his rise. It was just one of hundreds of dungeons that had appeared all over the world, and yet it contained innumerable miracles.
He sobered. More than that, it contained the arena of his commission, the only true hope of mankind. The sun brightened but his gaze was steady. He understood, why Kyrios had chosen him. No one knew better than him the vanity of life without struggle, purpose, and true adventure
He was king over all that he saw. He had riches, hunts, feasts, houses, wives, concubines, all without end, but in the end they did not satisfy. In the end he tried to create a better nation for his people. It wasn’t until then that he learned the true despair of humanity.
The fury of impotence, he knew it well, had died railing against it. So many people, scraping, crying, desperate for some reason, something to make life worthwhile. He had tried to give it to them, and yet he had never even found a clear path.
He had tried to make their lives easier, to give them greater freedom, but he knew that was no ultimate solution. He himself had experienced it, as much ease and freedom as any mortal could have. It had left him not only empty but destitute.
He stared at the dungeon with deep eyes. Things had changed. With Kyrios’ help he could offer humanity real hope, a path to transcend even mortality itself, beyond floor 100.
His blue eyes luminesced purple in the sunlight. Surely there, in the immortal realm, an answer could be found, an answer to the ancient question, what did the human soul need? It was not his job to provide that answer but to show people, that they really could transcend their limits, even the limits of their own mortality.
His gaze steeled. He would not do so with words but with power as he struck down many monsters, both human and otherwise. Only by doing so could he show them that no beast could stand before a righteous hunter!
His eyes scanned over the dungeon. Contained within it were the keys to his rise. He wielded the power of heaven, but was still weak. He would remain so until he had traversed many floors.
He contemplated each level. It would all begin on the first floor, all the way to the one hundredth. Never again would he live a life of fear and impotence. He would soar to the very heavens! Glory, eternal glory, would be his, and he would stand proud and bright forever, without lack in the eternal realm!
He smiled. He might be the first, but his true purpose would lie in leading many to stand with him. What greater goal could he ask than this? He chuckled. He would not consider it a chore. What child did not dream of being a hero, of slaying goblins, ghouls, and villains? And now there was an entire mountain full of them right before him!
He thought of all the information Kyrios had downloaded into his brain. Much of it had to do with the Evergreen Star Dungeon and would lead him into many perilous trials. His smile deepened. Even so, he wouldn’t fear death. After all, could the struggle possibly be worth it if he had to fear death?
“One minute has expired, would you like to purchase more time?”
No, he didn’t come to sightsee, he came to fight. “Take me to Fortress,” he commanded.