The two Ancients said nothing more. The hollow mountain turned silent. Demon sat on the stone platform, unmoving like a statue and meeting the gazes of flame and earth, eagerness flaring from the fires but indiscernible thoughts gleaming from the gems. Anyone would leap at the chance for this great reward, but he was reminded of the Thread Saul forged with Oscar and frowned. Gifts were not trustworthy. He believed in deals, bargains, and possession by force or mutual exchange.
"Seriously?" Ignyres said, knowing his thoughts. He sighed out embers and scratched the ends of his lively head. "You're not wrong to be cautious…after everything that happened years ago. But I can speak on Tectones's behalf. He is a prankster but never harms intentionally."
"How will it help me? You haven't answered that yet." Demon ignored Ignyres and walked to the open maw of the Ancient of Earth. "Metures withheld information about Saul when we first met. What can you say to convince me?" He held no respect or awe for the Ancients. They were mere tools that wanted tools of their own, not worthy of any of the reverence they received.
The stone face of Tectones never changed, and his mouth shut tight. A few seconds later, a few rumbling chuckles resounded, quaking the earth beneath their feet, comparable to the sound of rocks bashing into each other. Tectones's lips cracked wider into the stone, spreading upward, resembling a smile a child would carve into a pumpkin. "Believe. Moment. Choice"
"You may not understand it now but believe in the gift I will bestow upon you. The moment will arrive when it will change everything or not. It all depends on your choice; unlike others, I grant you the freedom to choose. If you don't want it, it's fine. I believe in your decision." Ignyres translated for Tectones.
"That is acceptable. At least there is honesty in your words, not at all light." For years, he experienced all the lies and trickery. The simple proposition of choice was rare and believable. Urged by the Ignyres' grumbling, Demon stepped closer and reached his artificial hand into the stony jaws, the teal gem's glow waxing and waning to the deep thumping that sounded from the earth. The gem was smooth, carved into a perfect shape with equal sides and dimensions. He saw his reflection on the multiple surfaces, raising an eyebrow at the man in the gem. A multitude of black, lifeless eyes stared back at him. Oscar? It reflected not the coldness or indifference that dulled his gaze but the lifelessness and despair that muddied Oscar's.
Tectones waited, keeping his mouth open while Demon contemplated the reflections in the gem. The artificial arm grasped the gem, ending the confounding visages of a broken man. Power surged into his body. He felt stronger and healthier than ever. Suddenly, he lurched forward, nearly stumbling into the gaping maw. His arm creaked, the metallic fingers groaning while squeezed into thin strips, barely the width of twigs. The unknown force spread from the fingers, crushing the palm, and swept up the forearm, nearing the shoulder.
Hesitation bred trouble. Demon quickly detached his artificial arm and tossed it away. In its path along the air, the gem of primordial earth broke apart the arm, condensing it all into a compact bead the size of a seed. There, gleaming like a wondrous diamond, the gem landed on the stone platform, rolling around and behaving like an ordinary jewel. Cursing the loss of a precious arm, Demon glared at the Ignyres and Tectones. The arm was made from Erden's antlers and a precious grade-four ore. Its loss was calculated in tens of millions of gold.
"Body," Tectones said.
"It is a test of your body. Normally, only one from the Volten lineage and wielder of Reis can take it. Your perfect Reis body may be enough. Withstand it with your body and claim it." Ignyres cheered him on, releasing flames that brightened the dimly lit cavern.
Demon leaped over, cracking the stone under his soles, and clenched hard on the gem. He didn't feel any pain, but a tremendous force emanating from the gem split his skin apart. They had been tightened to the point where they could no longer hold together, exposing the flesh they protected. Red blood drenched the gem, seeping into the cracks between the stones. He nearly choked from the air rushing from his lungs that now faced the terrifying pressure.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Reis flowed into his body, hardening the muscles into steely sinew. Veins patterned his skin like strange tattoos, pulsing audibly and writhing around his skinless hand. Absorbing the Reis from the gem's power, he clenched harder, the veins popping along his knuckles as Omnireus thundered from his palm. It became a game between him and the gem, a fierce struggle for dominance over the other.
Several hours later, the gem's power weakened. He had gained the upper hand and was not about to let it go, pouring more Reis into his hand. The gem vibrated violently, attempting to escape, but even with the slick blood on its surface, it could not escape Demon's grip. One final burst of Omnireus sealed the fate of the gem as it hummed weakly and flew into his chest, hiding in his inner world. It had been subjugated.
He dropped to his knees, knowing they were numb. Relaxed, his blood-soaked hand spewed out a stream of the crimson life, constant and ceaseless. If it continued, he would die of blood loss. Drinking a grade-four elixir, he saw a fresh layer of skin grow over his hand, gripping it for good measure. Closing his eyes, he wanted to see the gem. In the inner world, the piece of primordial earth, carved from Tectones's essence, floated around his core, rotating along an axis.
"Use." The stoic voice of the Ancient of Earth called out.
"Use it to fuel a formation for Marshal Exalts of the earth element. Its true purpose will reveal itself if the moment ever comes, which he hopes will never come to be. But prudence is key, isn't it?" Ignyres burst into the inner world, a fanfare of bright flames illuminating the darkness. "The big oaf always keeps to himself, but like the formation of this mountain and the sudden rise of a new continent, his tricks are always for the benefit of others."
Back in the real world, Demon faced Tectones and nodded, "At least, with this, I no longer need to buy any elixirs or treasures of the earth element. For that, I thank you." Tectones smiled again. The gem-like eyes turned to dust, followed by the rest of the boulder. Only a mound of sand remained where the Ancient once stood. Erden whistled for attention and pointed at the opening in the mountain's peak.
The journey down was easier than Demon imagined. The primordial earth inside him nullified the mountain's unique properties. To not attract too much attention, he walked down the rocky slopes and wore his clothes and armor before anyone could see his face. He observed the surroundings, spotting none nearby except for a group of lowly snails at the mountain's base that munched on the leaves of some shrubs. His movements were a step behind his mind, a sign of tiredness, and he decided to stay for another night in the city.
…….
"Marcus!" Eve shouted hoarsely, her coughs worsening from the stress on her throat. She embraced Marcus tightly, and he couldn't resist stroking her bandaged head. She looked behind him and furrowed her brow, scrunching the bandages. "Where is Lord Draven?"
"He sent me away to handle a few rebels. He's not here?" Marcus rubbed her forehead, easing the tension on her brow and tightening the loose bandages. He lifted her into his arms and cradled her in a loving carry. "But don't worry about him. He's not someone who would die so easily. Where is everyone?"
"Indeed, where is everyone?" A cold voice caught him off-guard. Marcus spun around and released Eve from his embrace, bowing deeply beside her. He glanced up and gasped, eyes wide. Lord Draven was missing an arm. How? Why? His precious arm was gone.
"Who was it?!" Marcus roared, some of the wrecked houses falling from the force of his voice alone, cluttering into a rubble of rotten wood and crumbling stone. His shout attracted the attention of the others, who quickly gathered around from wherever they were, their eyes also wide at Lord Draven's missing arm. Kragg slammed his fist into the ground, baring his sharp canines. Santen, the ever-calm, had an indescribable expression, his eyes reeling to show the white behind the pupils. Restel scratched the ground with her nails, blood spurting from the exposed fingertips. Auren bashed his head on the ground, glaring the fiercest he had ever seen on the boy.
"Tell us who dared hurt our lord. Give us a name, and we shall see them ended." Santen said, clasping his hands tightly.
"Eh? What in the hell is going on here? Everyone's so murderous right now." A rough, unmannered voice shouted from the side. Marcus turned his head and saw a short man with a scruffy beard carrying a pair of beady eyes that blinked in confusion. He wore a torn shirt, held together by patches, and shorts that exposed his hairy knees.
"He lost an arm. Make him a new one." A woman descended from the sky. Her brown hair floated freely down to her knees, along with a few streaks of white hair running down, distinct from the rest. Her blue eyes locked onto Lord Draven's missing arm as a sigh escaped her lips. Her green robes swayed softly until their ends rested on the ground.
"Hector, Helen, why did you take so long to return?" Lord Draven asked.