My brain reeled in shock as I was once more carried, helpless and paralyzed, through the dark stone tunnels. The heltharvis was an Inquisitor, like me—but that didn’t mean she was actually an Inquisitor like me. I knew well that Inquisitors weren’t always sent to restore the balance. Menogra had sent me on my first mission intending for me to shatter that balance to her benefit, and while I hadn’t wittingly participated in that plan, I’d still almost done it on accident. Was she here to fix the balance or to destroy it? It seemed like the latter, but I couldn’t be sure. If she was here for the same reason as me, should I work with her? Would she let me? Or would she view me as a threat?
“Sara, can you tell me anything about her?” I asked silently.
“Only what my scan showed you. If I saw her sigil, I could tell you who she represents, which might give me an idea of what she’s doing here, although that’s not necessarily the case.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Powers use Inquisitors to gain influence and strength in the Doorverse, John. That’s their only real purpose. The Powers aren’t above lying to or manipulating their Inquisitors to get that influence—as you well know. Some of the cruelest Powers out there have a few kind, gentle Inquisitors who heal worlds just so they don’t lose that source of energy, and some of the most benevolent have Inquisitors who you’d find beyond repugnant, so they don’t miss the energy they’d gain by tumbling a world’s balance. They’re not all like that, but most are.”
That, I had no problems believing. I’d found the saying, “absolute power corrupts absolutely” to be completely true in my experience, and I had no reason to think it wouldn’t apply to the Doorverse as a whole. Menogra seemed to be the poster child for that, in fact. That woman was definitely corrupted.
“I can also say with some confidence that she’s been in this world quite a bit longer than you,” Sara added. “She’d need to have accumulated almost 200,000 XP to level letharvis and heltharvis as high as she has, and that had to take at least several years.” She paused. “Well, unless her SARA is incredible at giving her XP, that is.”
“She’s a level 11 Inquisitor, Sara. That seems possible.”
“Possible, but unlikely. Level 11 isn’t very high for an Inquisitor, John. Remember, Inquisitors live for centuries, even millennia. In a hundred years, you’ll look at yourself as you are now and be amazed at how weak you were.”
“Assuming I’m alive to see it, that is.”
“Well, yes, assuming that.”
The guards carried me deeper into the volcano’s tunnels, finally walking into a much larger room. I felt my skin tingle as we entered the chamber, and power swirled about me as energy roiled thickly in the air. I was carried into the center of the room and dumped ungently on the hard stone, but not before my gaze swept over the curving lines glowing on the floor beneath me. I felt a chill as I recognized the whorls and swirls of the ritual surrounding me.
“Sara, is that…?”
“The severing ritual,” she replied gravely. “It’s not exactly the same as the one Kadonsel described, but it’s close enough that I recognize it.”
I pushed down a surge of panic as I realized that the heltharvis—the Inquisitor was going to strip me of my spirits. “What can we do? Is there any way to stop it?”
“I’m working on it, John.”
As the power surrounding me suddenly started to rise, my panic grew stronger. “Work faster.”
“Forgive me for not stopping to explain everything and giving your SARA a chance to save you.” The Inquisitor’s voice was mocking as she spoke in that strange language she’d used earlier. “Once I have that high spirit you’re carrying, and you’re essentially powerless, we can talk.”
Power swelled around me, and I felt the first fingers of it caress me, almost delicately. The spell wrapped around me, pressing against my skin and pushing gently against my will. I pushed back, and the spell recoiled; a sense of relief swept over me as I suspected that I could fight the spell—relief that quickly vanished as a sharp stab of energy plunged into me, seeming to slice into the very core of me. The spell stabbed into me, and I felt something cut free, leaving a burning emptiness where something had been before. Another blade sliced into me, and once more, I felt something vanish as another piece of me was cut out. I fought against it, pushing my will against the spell, trying to drive it out, but it felt like trying to shove aside a fucking bulldozer, and the spell blade slashed into me again, carving away a part of me.
“John, picture this pattern,” Sara said in a hurried tone. “Wrap it around yourself, and power it with your high spirit!” An image flashed into my mind just as another knife plunged into me, and without asking questions, I grasped it and practically yanked power from my high spirit. I felt Sara’s spell flow through me, forming a glowing silver sphere that wrapped around the remaining balls of spirit hovering inside me. When the blade struck once again, it met resistance for a moment, and I felt a spark of hope—before the ritual pierced my new shield, plunged into me, and cut something free. I pushed more power into the spell, and when the ritual struck again, I felt my new defense pushing it back even longer, but again, it quickly sliced through and took something else from me.
“The ritual’s too strong, John,” Sara said desperately. “And your defense is too spread out. You need to condense it around a few spirits and abandon the rest! Hurry!”
I gritted my teeth and turned my focus inward. Most of my land spirits were gone, leaving burning holes where they’d once been. Even as I watched, the blade slashed again, and the smoke spirit I’d melded for Fifa vanished, cut free by the ritual’s eldritch knife. The ritual hadn’t touched my close, beast, or high spirits yet, or the mortal spirits I’d claimed, so I guessed that it started low in the hierarchy of spirits and worked its way up. That meant that the steam or storm spirits were probably next, giving me a little time to consider what I wanted to keep.
Kadonsel was a must, obviously. Her knowledge was too valuable for me to lose. The spirit of the Lerlauga was, as well, both because of the power it gave me and the fact that the Inquisitor needed it. I wanted to preserve the other high spirit if I could, but the rest—well, technically, nothing else really mattered to me. I could always reclaim most of it if I had to, after all. I quickly gathered my focus and condensed Sara’s spell, wrapping it only around those three spirits, then tapping both high spirits to power it—and, in a fit of intuition, Kadonsel, as well. The energy of all three spirits burned through me, searing my mind, but the shield hardened and thickened within me, hopefully becoming dense enough to protect what remained.
I watched helplessly as the ritual dove into me again and again, cutting away my spirits one by one. As I guessed, the steam and storm spirits went next, followed by the dinosaur-like jagadla. The blade cut away the eagle-like hemmorn spirit next, and I felt a surge of anger and regret as it cut free the hunt spirit, the first one I’d claimed. I wasn’t the sentimental type, though, so I let it go and waited for the ritual to attack the spirits I was protecting. I grabbed those even more tightly, holding them to myself and wrapping them in a core of my will. I could feel the spirits far more intimately than I ever had as I clutched them tightly, enfolding them in a layer of myself to shield them from the savage ritual.
When the blade struck, it came hard and fast, slashing at my core. Pain stabbed my temples as the ritual struck my shield—and halted. The pain grew as the knife withdrew and slashed again, cutting at my shield, but once more, I held firm. The ritual returned in an instant, this time striking with tremendous force, and agony blossomed behind my eyes as I gripped my spell and fed power from all three of my remaining spirits into it. The pressure was enormous, but I focused my will and endured, pushing against the force and holding it out. The ritual wavered for a moment, and in that instant, my will exploded outward, driving the spell from me and shoving it back the way it came. My mind raced down the ritual lines, pushing my shield before me and shoving the blade back. Power still glowed in the ritual, and I greedily sucked it up as I passed, pouring that energy back into me to replenish some of what I’d lost.
A scream filled the room as my thoughts slammed into the edge of the ritual, and the paralysis holding me weakened enough to let me turn my head to see my tormentor. The heltharvis stumbled backward, gripping the sides of her skull and shaking her head. I watched in grim joy as she fell to one knee, blinking rapidly. A stream of crimson flowed from her nose and splattered the floor, and her body shook and trembled as she squeezed her eyes shut.
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“Spell backlash,” Sara said triumphantly. “You broke her spell and drove it back into her, John. She won’t recover from that for a bit.”
I agreed with the AI. I’d felt spell backlash a time or two, and it hurt like hell. The fact that the Inquisitor was even standing was a testament to her mental strength, really; the more complex the spell, the worse the backlash, and this ritual was complicated as fuck. It probably would have knocked me unconscious, at the very least.
The woman sat down heavily and wiped her nose, staring at the crimson staining her fingers with eyes that radiated confusion for a moment before they focused into understanding.
“Not bad,” she finally said in a hoarse, raspy voice. “You ended up coming up with a defense against the ritual after all. I’m impressed. You and your SARA must have quite the skill at spellcraft.” She wiped her fingers on her robe and glared at me. “Of course, all that means is that I’ll have to modify the ritual a bit. It might damage you some now, but since I’m going to kill you anyway, that doesn’t much matter.” She pushed herself up to stand, wincing as she did.
“Sadly, I’ll have to do that later.” She looked around, then back at me. “You’re too dangerous to simply leave, though, even with guards watching you. Besides, I have some questions for you.” I felt myself being hefted once more and carried through the tunnels. With nothing else to do, I pulled up my waiting notifications and checked my no doubt much lower stats.
You have learned Verkish!
You can now speak and understand this language.
Spell Created: Shield Spirit
Power Required: Variable
You create a shield to thwart attacks against your spirits or the connections between them. The total amount of defense the shield grants is based on your Intuition and Skill stats. If the shield protects multiple spirits, each spirit gains an equal portion of this total defense, meaning protecting multiple spirits decreases the protection afforded to each. The amount of power required to maintain this shield is equal to half the energy of the attack and is modified by the attacker’s skill level.
Special: If an attack is resisted, for double the power cost, you can return the assault back on its originator.
Profession: Undtharvis has gained a level
New Level: 6
With each level of Undtharvis, you gain:
Intuition, Charm +2, Perception, Vigor +1, 3 Skill Points
Ability Gained: Chain Spirit
Active Ability
You can attempt to bind a spirit to a specific object or location. A chained spirit is trapped inside that object or location and is unable to leave or affect anything beyond their containment. Chained spirits can attempt to break free of their containment; success depends on their strength and class and your Intuition and spirit-based professions. Each failed attempt decreases the spirit’s chance of success at later attempts.
You have lost the following Spirits:
Hunt Spirit, Storm Spirit, Hemmorn Spirit, Steam Spirit, Smoke spirit, Water Spirit, Earth Spirit, Fire Spirit, Wind Spirit, Jagadla Spirit
You have lost the following stat bonuses:
Reason -1, Perception -11, Prowess -6, Vigor -9, Celerity -8, Skill -4
You have lost the abilities granted by these spirits.
Adaptation Complete!
You have fully adapted to the Doorworld of Sojnheim!
Benefits: All stat penalties removed. All spirit stat bonuses +50%.
John Gilliam, Master of Beasts
Mental Stats
Reason: 71 Intuition: 76 Perception: 59 Charm: 59
Physical Stats
Prowess: 87 Vigor: 82 Celerity: 48 Skill: 74
Actually, that wasn’t too bad, overall. Fully adapting to this world more than offset the loss of stats I’d suffered from having so many spirits cut away from me, and I felt new strength flooding my body even as my thoughts sharpened intensely. Of course, I’d also lost a ton of abilities, including my enhanced senses and ability to ignore temperature, and the heat of the deep tunnels was slowly sinking into me, making me feel flushed and slightly light-headed. I’d managed to hold onto my two high spirits, though, as well as Kadonsel and, to my surprise, the spirit of the guard I’d taken earlier. I hadn’t meant to shelter him, so I wasn’t sure exactly why the ritual hadn’t taken him.
“Probably because the Inquisitor couldn’t see it, John,” Sara suggested. “Or maybe because mortal spirits are immune to that ritual—which would make sense since otherwise, it would attack the spirit of whoever was standing inside it, too.”
“As good an explanation as any,” I thought back, then turned my thoughts deeper inward. “Kadonsel, are you okay?”
“I hurt,” the woman whimpered in reply, her mental speech slurred. “It hurts me. Make it stop.”
“You drained her pretty deeply for that shield, John,” Sara told me gravely. “You’ll need to divert some energy to her to fix it.”
“The power I pulled from the ritual wasn’t enough?”
“Not at the rate you were using it, no. That ritual was powerful, and you used a lot of energy to break it. The extra kept you from totally draining their spirits, but it left all three pretty weak.”
I reactivated Draining Aura and began pulling in power from all around me, feeding it back into Kadonsel and the spirit of Lerlauga. The flow wasn’t huge, but it was the best I could do at the moment. Hopefully, I’d get a chance to carve out a chunk of the heltharvis’ high spirit again and used that to quickly heal them both.
At last, the guard carrying me dropped me again, this time in a room I recognized. It was one of the sleeping rooms I’d visited earlier, the only one with a brazier that had been recently used. As the guard stepped back, my paralysis vanished, and I quickly scrambled to my feet, only to feel a pair of spears jab against my back warningly.
“Carefully,” the heltharvis chuckled in Verkish. “You don’t want to excite my guards.” I looked at the woman and saw her glancing around the room thoughtfully. “You came here earlier. Looked around, no doubt hoping to find something written that would clue you into what’s happening. I would have done the same.” She shrugged. “Too bad that a SARA makes all that unnecessary.”
“Your Tracking skill must be pretty high,” I replied in the same language.
“High enough.” She walked to her bed and sat down on it. “Before we begin, look down at your feet.” I glanced down and saw a glowing circle wrapped around me, pulsing with a silver sheen that I knew meant the high spirit was empowering it. “That’s one of my better discoveries in this world: a circle that affects the natives. Now, I have confidence that an Inquisitor could find a way to break that, which is why there are two guards behind you, both with orders to disable you if you make any aggressive movements. They won’t kill you, of course—I need that spirit you’ve somehow claimed—but pain? They can cause you a great deal of pain if you don’t cooperate.”
As she spoke, I felt a shiver pass over me, and she seemed to grow larger and more menacing. Shadows filled her face, hiding her expression, and her nails and teeth seemed sharper, more like claws and fangs. Ice crept down my spine as a thrill of fear rushed through me at the very sight of her.
“She has a fear ability like yours, John,” Sara said quietly. “Try to fight it off.”
I took a deep breath and pushed away the fear, shoving it to the back of my mind. I was used to dealing with it, after all; I’d lived most of my life in fear of one thing or another, and we were old friends of a sort. I could barely remember not being afraid since I entered the Doorverse, in fact. A little more fear didn’t much matter to me. My heartbeat and breathing slowed as I put the fear out of my thoughts, and when I gazed at the woman again, her face and body looked relatively normal.
“Why are you here?” she demanded, leaning toward me.
I considered refusing to answer, but it occurred to me that if I played along with her and acted like her ability worked on me, I might get some answers from her, as well. Besides, the weaker she thought I was, the better.
“I—I don’t know,” I stammered, forcing myself to breathe faster, clenching and unclenching my fists, and shifting about nervously. I’d seen terrified marks aplenty; I could certainly act that part.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I don’t know! I’m here because there’s imbalance, the same as you. I don’t know why I came here instead of somewhere else!” I spoke rapidly, letting the words fall over one another, and tapped a foot on the ground as I spoke.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. Every Inquisitor gets a mission briefing when they enter a Doorworld. Tell me yours, now!”
I felt another wave of fear roll over me, but I shoved it aside just as easily as I had the earlier one. I let myself flinch, though, and dropped my eyes, looking away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I said with total honesty. “Briefing? I don’t get anything like that. How do you get those?”
She stared at me, her eyes hard. “Show me your sigil.”
I hesitated, and another wave of fear washed over me, far stronger than the last. I had trouble fighting this one off, and it occurred to me that with her extremely elevated stats, she could probably actually cow me into submission if she tried hard enough. I needed to act the part of being broken, or she’d really break me. I slowly undid my armor and pulled it aside, showing her the octagonal symbol on my chest. She peered at it, her eyes curious, but that curiosity faded quickly.
“A torn sigil,” she murmured. “I don’t recognize your patron, but it doesn’t matter. You failed them. They cast you out.” She waved her hand. “You can cover it. I’ve seen all I care to.” I covered myself, and she leaned back with a relieved sigh. “Your presence here is random and thus, meaningless. A fluctuation to be dealt with, nothing more.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Had you been sent here by your patron, I would be concerned. I’ve labored in this snow-blasted world for far too many years to have my work undone. You, though, are an aberration, one that I’ll adapt to.” She rose to her feet. “Within the hour, your high spirit will be in my hands, the calling can begin, and my work will be complete.” She glanced past me, then back at me. “Cooperate, and once I have your high spirit, I may as well let you live. Once I’m finished, whatever you do in this world won’t matter to me, anyway. Resist, and I’ll strip the high spirit from you, put you through the Ritual of Chaining, and banish your spirit into the void of Enverthen along with the others rather than simply killing you and ending it. Either way, my job will be complete, and that’s all that matters.”
She turned and swept out of the room, and as she left, the paralysis slammed into me again, leaving me trapped and helpless—and wondering how the fuck I was going to get out of this one.