Present day Chris watched him from the other end of a glass table, bleeding with confidence and a hint of something dark. Behind him, a majestic red sunset on the ocean cast its light through a sleek cut out of polished white stone. Their vantage offered a bird’s eye view a few hundred feet above sea level and about ten miles back from a dominant shoreline city. Multi-story white stone structures were stacked in clusters around volcanic craters with active green smoke sending thick pillars into the sky.
A strange magic fizzed under his skin. You’re drunk. Go home. And where’s my guide?
Had Tim been asleep or was he now back in control? The magic residue made the back of his eyeballs itch. He wasn’t in Kansas or Squires Castle, that’s for sure.
“Hey, Tim.” Chris said, as though there was nothing wrong.
Why aren’t I tied up? Tim thought. “Is this Dosek Montryl?”
Chris grinned. “How’d you know that?”
Tim had pulled the name of Ajin’s hideout from the weeds congesting his thoughts. Ajin, the one who poisoned them so he could be here?
Chris signaled for something behind Tim, acting the host to their meeting. “My apologies for the rude ushering to get you here. Time was of the essence.”
“So you…”
Tim’s attention landed on a thickly muscled humanoid in a combat-sleek outfit cloaked in a black… emptiness. His presence resembled the wraith, only capable of haunting the day as well as the night. Even the wraith have an aura glow. This guy’s a barely constrained black hole on two legs. The frame of his gear bled into the background while the center space appeared to be possessed by an eternal darkness. What is that?
The essence gave off Troll in waves of murky density. As though continued close proximity to the man could suck him into quicksand.
Circle tattoos like blazing gold circle tattoos resembled smaller ones on Ajin, and… Tim cast Analyze.
Frahnk - Level 22 Troll Shadestriker
Tim made a mental note to check Aeu’s book to research Shadestrikers.
Frahnk’s face resembled a SEAL Team squad leader in strength and in the thousand-mile stare he sent Tim’s way. His skin had the oilly glint of a tree frog with crusty scabs and hairy moles. Golden dust sparkled on circle tattoos set like decorated glory to the battle the rest of the face dealt with. Ajin had the same save for the dust effect and color.
Is this where they demand the rings?
One side of Frahnk’s face had a flap of skin hanging from his cheek and a tusk on the same side, tipped in a sharp white point. His brown complexion was lined by a dark, precision-cut half beard and impressive white scars on his cheek. A lighter-toned burn remnant mottled the side of his neck to the bottom half of his ear. Polished bones looped the top of his ears and a diamond-tipped short one pierced his nostrils.
Tim’s aura sight picked up several magic spells at work in expertly packed sections of his frame, exuding strength and defense at a tier too high to pick up, meaning 4 or higher. Their brilliance centered in the green and orange light emanating from its eyes.
His resting-murder outfit matched his nothing-to-fear stroll toward their table.
Frahnk stuck his hand into the void and the dark veil parted. A small window exposed a leather pocket on a bandoleer with large caliber bullets. He opened the pocket and withdrew a gemstone with clear crystalline clusters around its light pink core. “The former sheriff of Padstoligan sends his regards. Says Princess is on the table if you play your cards right.”
Tim’s brows raised. Princess Pearl? “You get me his gun and a bandoleer of bullets, we might be talkin’.”
Chris chuckled. “That’s what I thought.” He extended a hand toward the gemstone, grin cocked in pre-mature celebration.
Tim couldn’t deny he had his attention. Somewhere that same little boy was trying his best. Fashioned and driven by many secrets Tim might never know, he was truly brother. How could Tim not follow him to the edge if it meant saving him? His fear roamed in this unknown of when and how he might fall over that edge with him.
Frahnk eyed Tim as if he were steak on a grill, or a pig in a pen, depending on how bloody he liked his meal. If Tim had to guess, he’d say that glare said vote saucy and kickin’. Frahnk puffed the flap of skin, licked his black tongue around the overgrown tusk and let the gem fall for the table. It landed on a tip, trembling with magnetic rigidity until it held still. White light filled the crystals with the intensity of an explosive pre-detonation.
Tim composed himself in the thought that Chris wouldn’t bring him here to set off a bomb inside what appeared to be a well-protected base–whether by money, influence, or an iron fist, he knew not. Despite his restricted skill base, he sensed an ease in their essence speaking comfort in their position in the driver’s seat.
A holographic window beamed into place from the light, splitting the frame into four quadrants. Inside, onlookers smiled with distinct satisfaction, or at least as much as their varied species form could.
Tim contained his surprise in a fraction of a second, drawing a box of information around their profiles and storing it for study in the coming moments. The last thing he wanted was to appear surprised to be here and unexpecting of their presence. He locked onto the Drakkon with simmering anger and a long line of medals on his yellow and black collared robe. Eye contact activated a defensive glare. Before the bubbling threats fully vocalized, Tim took in the rest of the group.
In the viewscreen next to him was a deep blue squid with golden eyes, an eagle-like, black to white feathered facial circle dipping right to ten inches to an impressive, sharp pointed beak. The tentacles dangling in the air current concealed feather tips as though at a moment’s notice it could unsheath beautiful wings to transition out of water into air. They swayed in a semi-transparent orb with whisps of clear fire and orange to blue tips rising to the top. A self-generated light pulsed in calm beats from the elongated pod that grew down from its head, like a ghost’s tail on an octopus, semi-transparent with internal organs pumping to fuel the right parts. The sac was veined in thick purple stitches at odd intervals as though through multiple surgeries or growth spurts. Its frame exuded multi-attack options and a superior fusion of modified and natural strength.
Ghareven - Level 21 Hydrique - Commander General of the Gwangsando Airsea
On the bottom row was a panther with an elephant’s snout and long sensory tentacles perched atop its shielded forehead, taking the cake so far for the ugliest of the group. Its eyes spoke of intelligence, yet even in its profile, he could tell his strength wasn’t far behind. Any fight with this one would turn your day sideways in a hurry.
Nezrutiere - Level 19 Gript - Alpha of the Bellegnino Resistance
Bellegnino?
A map appeared with a tied line to the pantherphant, Nezrutiere. It highlighted an island city on the western central section of the Outer Rim. Tim’s glance moved quickly to the last one, a storm stuck in a midnight haunting wraith. Purple lightning crackled out from the heart of several eyes illuminating its flowing outline. The map that popped up beside it centered on a small island off the coast of Witesbu, representing the southernmost tip of the circle of continents.
Mashar - Level 20 Zzzrt - Grzzt of the Lzzrt
“Interesting representation you brought, Chris. Is this the part where you tell me what’s really going on?” Tim asked, inching back in his chair to get more comfortable. He held back a dart about whether the artisans were short of staff and couldn’t make an appearance. “Oh, do you have sharks with frickin laser beams attached to their heads? Is that panther dude’s other hat?”
“Hilarious,” Chris said and glanced at the pantherphant. “My brother has a lesser form of my funny gene. You’ll have to forgive him.”
“That was humor?” Nezrutiere asked, straight-faced. One of his antlike tentacles slowly arched forward over his head.
“I bet you do, and I’ll hear them out with my chin up and in their entirety, if you’ll give us a moment first.” Chris laid his hands out as though to present that moment on a platter. “I’d like to welcome you to the third act, so to speak. I assure you you’ll want to hear us out.”
His look displayed a gambler in his element. Eager to lay that trump card over whatever Tim had up his sleeve.
“Have at it,” Tim spit out, leaning into his diversion of being totally caught off guard.
Chris’s smile sparkled with pride. “Good.” He eased back in his nice leather business recliner from the head of the anvil-angled table. The fat ends fit well with the aesthetic of the rectangular room and wide ocean view behind him. They weren’t afraid to show off some of their expenditures, especially if it meant intimidating a potential enemy to switching allegiance. Was that their intent, here? Is that why Chris kept smiling as though he’d done nothing wrong?
“We have a common foe in the Artisans, the Cartel, and Kosteen, whom you may remember hates aura mages and is largest investor in the war against them. Our alliance on that account could arguably sway me if I were you, especially if you care for the fate of Kiber. Aside from the slaughter to go with sacking and the potential loss of the paladins, the setback to Hai Trade Company’s bottom line could tip them into bankruptcy. If they’re not allied with or find the jewel this Hunt, it doesn’t look good for them or any of their allies, including Childockia. You’ve tasted the antidote to the poison twisting the life out of Jil and Khempal as we speak. What else do you want to know?”
“Okay, so playing the enemy of my enemy is my friend, card. What’s your ultimate prize in all this?” Tim asked, emphasizing what his brother stood to gain from this odd alliance and deception. Of his brother, Tim growled inward.
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Chris, in no hurry to play his best card, interlaced his hands, emitting a protective shield about his essence. Whatever he planned to say next wouldn’t be the whole truth and they both knew it. Chris just had to give him enough to make it worth not complying with the full story. If this wasn’t the basis for everything Chris said, Tim didn’t know what else was. I’m going to break that fear, for both of us.
“We recruited you; I recruited you,” Chris clarified, “because of our belief that you would compel Sylve to give you his gotr blade. The timing and window of opportunity put the odds in our favor and I rolled the die.”
“How kind of you to explain that ahead of time.”
“From there, we slipped in some aura enhancers to influence the reaction in becoming an aura mage.”
Tim’s ears grew hot. His brother had… he brushed it off to focus on the facts and getting Chris to slip with ones he wouldn’t intend to share. The time remained to listen, maybe let Chris’s enthusiasm take more ground than he should.
“All of our fighting and party building, the moments we had having fun as brothers after so long. I loved it.”
“I didn’t play with you enough as a kid, did I?” Tim asked. “Now your life is set out to prove you can have the most fun, and shouldn't I be so lucky as to follow you into adventure?”
Chris snorted. “That’s actually pretty good. I mean it, Tim. Everything we’ve gone through I’ve been me. Just a little more in the background that wouldn’t matter until we made it this far.”
“How generous of you to share.”
“I want to enjoy the best this world has to offer; and maybe even Earth or planets beyond; and all of that with you at my side.”
“You’re on the far end of that ship and I think we have a giant hole in the middle, so why not address the hole before this ship sinks,” Tim said.
“The ship where you come willingly?” Chris asked. “I thought you’d never ask. Aside from Jil and Khempal having unknown minutes before they perish, wouldn’t you like to see the bigger picture beyond this year’s Jewel Hunt?”
“Always could trust you to at least think you’ve found the juicy deal. Let’s hear it,” Tim said.
“Oh, you’ll see, brother. We owe you a big thanks, to start. Your work with the burg–playing your part with Warryn making us the heroes to fivels for life.”
“Enemies to the Crimoan, if that was a true threat or part of the act, I don’t know,” Tim said, recalling Warryn’s last words of their vengence.
“That is true, but—” Chris shrugged. “Who cares? They suck.”
“This is true,” Tim said, offering a bit of grace to the sour news. It might not have been long before Tim earned that enemy. The part he hated was the underhanded way Chris set it into motion.
“From there we start a Wicker Sea plantation,” Chris said before Tim could verbalize his anger. He knew he had to make a quick sell and Tim wasn’t opposed to hearing good news. “Though that’s not the end goal. I’ll even let you decide where the jewel goes, if we get it.” Chris winked. “And you better believe we’re gonna try. After that, Wachamia can be swayed with the right business offer. For now, and what we’re most impressed with, is what you found when you went back in time.”
“The sheriff's ledger?” Tim asked. The secret had already been spilled when he thought Chris was someone he could trust.
“Yep.”
A vine tip poked its head over the table, slithering toward Tim. Its base was a pastel mix of pink and blue with long yellow hairs, some as thin as whiskers.
It didn’t take much to picture and feel it entering his nose on its way to his brain. A cold terror crept up Tim’s chest as he watched, playing it cool under his brother’s crooked smile. Is this the part where he tortures me like Warryn? Where the Great Judge sends a fire to lick some early payment on his punishment to come?
Halfway across the table, the hairs passed a small wooden box like an assembly line. it reached his hand and set it before him.
“Inside you’ll find the pieces of our con-joined future,” Chris said. “Gifts for Khempal and Jil. Hai Trade and Childockia will both be thrilled to receive and devastated if they don’t. The Outer Rim is going through them either way.”
The pint-sized chest had a thick, wooden door with a carving painted in red across the front, apparently in place of a keyhole. The symbol matched one he’d seen on his way in. Not that he could read Troll or whatever it was.
Tim sat straight but ignored the box to return his glare on his brother. “You’ll have to sell me more than that, and let’s hurry this along. Your vine growth is super impressive. I’ll be curious later how you’re doing all this.”
“It’s simple. You and Ajin’s aura.”
“Did he know he was part of your ploy?” Tim asked.
“Oh no. Nor do I mind filling that power vacuum in his absence. This is a nice pad to call home, don’t you think?” Chris glanced at Frahnk as he said something in Troll. The serious tone that attached to their private exchange fell away into joyful optimism as he switched to English, “Plenty of ecosystems to explore with my Horticulture Sorcerer skill tree. When you’re not busy with Jil and your priestly calling, you should visit. Don’t worry. I’m sticking around for a bit. After, depending on how you grow your Cleanse skill, combine that with Aura crafting, plus your contact with Hai Trade now? You’ll retire well, build your own kingdom, or a bunch of orphanages. That would be good. Though first you might want to help us take care of the unrulies with a weakness for the holy spell tree. If you can craft items for armies…” Chris whistled a low note.
“You know the vahkel made the aura enclave. That plus S’Trace is how we went back in time. I can’t do anything for you.”
Chris nodded as though having expected that argument. “Ko voshuvo.”
His throaty pronunciation unlocked the box with a click. Its roof released and spread open. A slanted line lit bright green across the door before it too split and the box expanded twice its size.
The roof floor folded in and absorbed into the inner wall as a blue magical glow filled the inside.
similar gemstones to the one projecting the magic viewer floated from the box to hover before Tim.
“To put it bluntly,” Chris said, laying it on thick as a smoothly wrapped chonker unrolled from a spool of white whiskers.
“You must be fun at parties.”
“The most.”
Tim took the bribe. “Bluntly?”
“Everyone you hold dear wants you to make this deal and make it quick. Gregor’s been ambushed by a brigade of turtle things. It’s a whole thing. We want you to take the gem assigned to you and once you've killed the Murphy, we can talk about that ledger.”
“Oh and a short apology about poisoning you,” Tim said, filling in the part Chris must have forgotten.
“It’s not so much poison as a necessary medical evil to tap into Ajin’s power source,” Chris said. “What he meant as a last middle finger to anyone to find him was our ticket to communicating with my people. You can thank me later for the XP to your Cleanse skill, which is what enabled us to withstand Ajin’s… okay poison really is the best word. But you’ll be okay. We have the antidote. You’ve already received part of it. I want your skill to work. Enough of that. We need to get back.”
“I’m all for that. It’s just the question remains, why?” Tim asked, surprised to realize he was opening up to being swayed.
“The Outer Rim has been playing a long con on the Pillar. You need them—us—to take this fight to their throat. Otherwise, you’re looking at a brutal century or worse on the horizon. They’ve got treasure holed up, too. Our Wicker Sea will be in high demand as the troops pass through. With your help, we’ll handle the Artisans and Cartel quickly and go back to well, my plan was to have a little more of this kind of fun, but you can do whatever. Appoint a delegate and you won’t have to see me. This is a business in the end.”
Chris lit his, then cupped the cool night breeze for Tim’s.
“What’re we even doing here right now?” He held up the blunt. If Chris were to kill him it wouldn’t be while wasting good ganja. Troll Ganja no less.
“It’s safe. A little concoction is laced in to counteract the poison’s effects so you can fight in a minute. I’m a sorcerer now, though, so, it’s good. It also has some of the stuff we gave you to promote aura growth.” Chris’s eyes lit with a supernatural glow as he tasted it first, and after a lengthy exhale of wispy blue smoke, coughed and wheezed with laughter.
A fruity aroma overtook the table.
“That’s what I’m talking about. At least your meds are good.” Tim enjoyed another toke of said medicine. The body was hot, but the cloud was generous. Its aftertaste left a floral palette highlighted by blueberry droplets, treating his tongue to the town on a flying carpet. His head swam in it for a bit. Who doesn’t want to know what it’s like to fly? A lesser memory sparked life to the basement giddiness he and Chris shared in their stoner days long ago.
“We’re offering you a seat at the table if you’ll join us first in the fight. Consider these gifts from the Outer Rim on the eve of battle as a sign of their commitment. You’ll see. They’re bounties your friends thought lost to the cartel’s fooling around with what they can’t appreciate. All they want is power and prestige, in whatever image they see fit.” Chris shifted to wave a hand at the ocean and beach view. “The cartel have coaxed the Council Arms to join them in attacking this ancient Troll homeland. What you see is hidden in relic protection magic. Maybe someday our scrollbound can teach you. They’re busy at the moment, and may not last much longer. Therefore, we’re taking the fight to them.”
Chris wrapped an easy arm around Tim. “I’m glad I could finally tell you the truth.”
“You,” Tim started to separate. “I still don’t get why the Ace Ventura routine to get us here. I could have used that mine.”
“Wasting time we didn’t have. You disarmed the trigger, enabling us to get through, but I couldn’t have this conversation on the vine. You’ll be fine, wuss. Buck up. You’re about to fight a serious monster and a legion of pure dark. There’s more to tell. In time. For now, will you take the cure back to our friends and then let’s handle that Murphy?”
Tim wasn’t going to reveal his secret. Maybe there was a reason Chris knew Warryn. Maybe Warryn was an ally within the Artisans. He had a mind to say this coy plea and red carpet was meant to coax any secrets. For now, you’ve won, he thought. And said, “I get what you’re sayin’. Are your friends going to play nice with ours? Including Roz and his kin?”
Chris squeezed Tim’s arm in bubbling excitement. His grip impressed Tim beyond what he expected.
“You have our word. Roz and the Drakkon will have no problems. I’ve already made reparations for the ones slain in the forest.”
The Drakkon on the view screen nodded, curtly.
“Alright. We’ll fight the Murphy together and reconvene after.”
“As a sign of good faith…Fop ra. Wen zot.”
A gem from the chest floated over his wrist and absorbed into his gotr dagger.
Gotr Dagger gained Ranger Bleed
+25 Attack
+six spell slots as well as active spell “Dose” - deliver a deadly dish or elixir, but don’t forget to alternate! The gotr blade protects your delivery to stab through hard armor to deliver your spell. Works best against aura elementals. Weakness against physical armor.
Priest, Aura Mage, Ranger Tim, Honored Delegate of Childockia is granted preliminary membership in the COIL Alliance.
Tim puffed another hot one and sat back. A buffer of pleasure pushed away the soreness and weaknesses. One by one his skills returned to white along his HUD dash. He carefully activated Danger Sense. The walls stretched and faded into darkness. Clawlike shadows tore the ceiling and underneath, yet none of his neighbors moved. They didn’t know some strange magic was pulling Tim from their presence, carting him off toward a damp, slimy scent. His Danger Sense filtered evenly between the two planes and dissipated. Danger lie ahead. Great, thanks.
Shouts echoed in the tight confines of the sewers as their moss coated and grimy bricks came into focus. Chilled water soaked over him as the last glimpse of the comfy room faded into the darkness of the tunnel shadows.
Chris trudged through the water beside him. How is that possible? A blink earlier, he was at the table. “We set you free from Ajin’s poison,” Chris stepped back and wrapped a helping arm around Tim. Maybe a bit too brotherly. It touched Tim with a piece of home. Instinct bled out a casting of Brother’s Keeper.
Together they waded through the black water. Tim didn’t bother to send a Danger Sense ping at the wiggling snake atop the water. It wasn’t sent by the Murphy.
“We tortured Warryn for intel,” Tim blurted. The thought was sudden but undeniable.
“These guys aren’t actors on Netflix, dude. He’s no angel.”
“Fivel died.”
“And less will now that we’ve played our part,” Chris continued. Their walk ahead a long stretch of tunnel. “We’re far from done. I’m sorry for the crap show I’ve brought you to.”
Tim cast Danger Sense toward the intersection ahead, carrying Aura Light in wisps to guide their way.
“I play a tough game with the delegates,” Chris said. “They’re no nonsense. This mission is the revolution they’ve been working for decades to achieve. I’m truly sorry. If I’d revealed their classified information they would have known and we’d both have been at risk of capital punishment. Now that you’re in, I promise, I’ll tell you everything I can.”
“What’s your end goal with this?”
“That I can’t say, yet. If we don’t get the jewel, or even survive the Murphy, it won’t matter.” Chris stopped before the intersection to face Tim. Remorse coated his face and slumped his shoulders. His gaze hid in the corner while he collected his thoughts. “I get that I brought you here mostly for me.” He swallowed a lump and cleared his throat. “I can’t take that back. Even if I could, I don’t think I would. I’m not like you. I don’t have a simple…”
Chris caught the barb and Tim bit his tongue. Since his wife’s death, he found it hard to reach for much more. Life consisted of grinding through time, straining to keep yourself together one day at a time. That Chris called his struggle simple grated on an angry nerve.
“I’m sorry.” Chris patted his shoulder and squeezed a loving grip. “I–”
“We need to go.” Tim’s Danger Sense stretched down coordinating tunnels clear of threats and sniffing closer to Jil’s scent.
After a few long strides through the water, Tim said, “I love you.”
Nothing else seemed to matter after that. Chris was his brother. His only family. A wicked spirit of fear roamed within. Glimpsing over his recent skills and class addition felt like star points in a new constellation. He had to see it through until the beast reared its ugly head. Tim would be there with a grin and a dagger to save his brother.