There is often a cold touch to death, a vivid reminding that the world is capable of loss. To most it manifests itself in a cold chill, a mental blanket of trepidation and fearful realization. Perhaps it is in the understanding that mortality comes for everyone. There are those who experience it constantly enough to build an immunity and those who rebel against it. Seth had lived part his life around death and carnage and destruction. He had seen loss and watched it happen. But this was different. This was a loss he could’ve so easily been a part of.
Fear seized him even in the numbness of [Heart of Winter].
His mind was still processing the events before him when his core emptied and his skills deactivated. The clarity and silence [Fractured Mind] gave him fled like washed paint. The emotional silence that [Heart of Winter] gifted him each time he lowered himself into it abandoned him.
What he was in their absence was a shell of a person. His hands trembled beside him and he felt a sting against his neck. Even now, he was surprised at his survival. Surprised he’d been able to dodge whatever it was the man had thrown at him.
In front of him Jaola painted the ground red with blood. He lay motionless on it, his famous spear cut in half. If his silence wasn’t a strong enough indication of his death, the slice that went through him and left his torso almost halved from the rest of him was a finality. A clean dirge in the symphony of his life.
Seth’s legs trembled beneath him. Without any will left to hold himself up they buckled under his weight. He dropped to his knees and fell forward, catching himself with both hands.
The ground was wetter than he remembered. In fact, it hadn’t been wet in his memory. It brought his fear back to the top of his priority, shoved it ahead of his fatigue like an overzealous mother forcing a child into an activity they didn’t want.
His sense of smell betrayed him soon after. The air was rife with the stench of blood so strong he could taste the putrid tang of iron in it. It was too strong to have come from one man’s death. There was a way to confirm his fears; a way to determine just how much the world had lost in a single moment. All he had to do was reach out with his senses. But fear did not allow him.
Even now he feared to look beside him, to meet the stale eyes of Drew behind his unblemished glasses.
In the months he’d lived as an adventurer he’d seen people die or suffer injuries too critical to go on. Once, he’d seen the dejected look of a team of adventurers returned with one less member. It was the herald of a death they would not mention. He’d seen scores of reia beasts dead at the feet of teams as they cleared nests and did whatever was expected of them. He’d seen death.
But this was too much death.
The strange being stood where Seth had found him. He hadn’t moved an inch from the spot. His inability to care for the deaths he’d just called up in a single act bade Seth be angry. But he couldn’t muster up whatever it was he needed for that anger. It wasn’t because he was too tired. No. It was because fear choked every other emotion. Fear numbed all else.
After a moment of staring, the man nodded once.
“Good to see you were able to learn something despite your authority,” he said. “But that much should be expected of an observer, I guess.”
He finally moved from where he stood. The action was simple. He turned where he stood and walked to the open darkness behind him.
Seth wanted to call out; to cry out against what had just been done. It wasn’t some vengeful anger against a man who’d killed those dear to him that stoked him. None of the dead here were dear to him, and fear continued to leave no room for anger. It was a simple defiance for the strong left to him, a residue of a time spent in the hands of Jabari. The silver eyed priest was the only one allowed to look down on him so blatantly. Was the only one allowed to teach him in so humiliating a manner.
He didn’t want to cry out against the actions perpetrated. He wanted to cry out in defiance of his position in it.
He did not.
The man stopped before stepping into the hole as if he’d forgotten something, then turned. “I’m sure you’ll be able to feel it by the time you get your head on straight. But since I don’t know how long that will take, I’ll just tell you. I’ve been here too long and it has caused a bit of an issue in your world. That fissure you all refused to close is not what it used to be anymore. It has changed, and it will continue to worsen.” He paused, as if considering his next words. “I see your arm is… special,” he said the word with a touch of disgust. “It has the ability to break all things, even if only weak things. So when you’re strong enough, go beyond the door and take a left, you should find a dead soul beast. Take its fragment. If nothing else, it should give you enough strength to escape.”
Seth listened with only a part of his mind. The rest of him still struggled to return to him, to piece themselves back into wholeness. His other minds remained useless, still reeling from the effects of [Fractured Minds].
“Now this is the important part,” the man continued with a sudden seriousness that would’ve shaken Seth if he wasn’t so lost. “When you take it in your hand, do not break it. Instead, think of the strongest reia beast you’ve fought. Think of how powerful it was. Then think of the strongest person you’ve fought, a person so much stronger than you that you know you could never win.” He smirked lightly. “Then think of what would happen should he meet the reia beast. When you have that down, crush the fragment. Your soul remains incomplete so you’ll need to absorb a fragment if you want to survive the events about to transpire. This is the only way for one like you to fill your soul. If it fails, then at least you’ll have enough energy to escape.”
Then he stepped into the hole and was gone. The hole disappeared a moment after and it never registered in Seth’s mind.
……………………………………….
There was no certainty for how long Seth remained on his hands and knees. No surety in how long he drowned in the metallic stench of blood that choked the air as the reia around him dimmed. He didn’t reach out with his senses, didn’t try to see what existed around him in places his eyes couldn’t see. But he knew everyone who’d ventured into the room was dead. And why? Because of some foolish quest designed for him.
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New Quest: [Beast Glade]
There exists out in the calmness of a nest, a crack in the world. It is the world broken, unable to heal. From it spawns greater wounds and greater rewards. Find this crack and heal it before time runs out.
Time Remaining: 12:18:10:01.
Objectives: 3/6.
[Find a Clue to the Glades] 1/1.
[Find the Glades] 1/1.
[Play a part in Clearing the Glades] 1/2.
[Exterminate Soul Beasts] 2/4.
[Fissures Found] 2/2
[Fissures Closed] 1/2
Reward: Possible Skill.
Consequence: Possible Death.
Hidden Objective: [The One Who Doesn’t Belong]
You have stumbled across a being who has no place here. His existence threatens more than just those around him. You have found him and his prolonged presence threatens the birth of another fissure. Insurmountable as he is, one must lead him back to whence he came. You cannot. However, there exists a silver lining. His time here is limited and he has not come for war. He has come to teach. Learn from this being so he can be on his way.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Objective: [Learn a Skill] 1/1
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We’ve got to go, a mind told him gently. Something’s not right.
The mind was right, something wasn’t right. Seth could feel the tremors in the ground, the constant quaking and sudden booms. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move.
A part of him still pondered on what had happened, if this was the life of a soul mage. Someone had come from nowhere, a gift from his quest, and killed so many in one attack he still couldn’t understand. Then he’d walked off into a fissure that looked nothing like the fissures he knew.
We can’t stay here, Seth, another mind begged. We have to go.
Another tremor punctuated the thought then a large chunk of the roof fell. It landed on Jaola’s corpse, burying it. Arresting Seth’s attention. His minds were right. He had to go.
He pushed himself to his feet and wobbled slightly before gaining his balance. A few strands of hair obstructed his view and he ran thoughtless hands through his hair. They smoothened the strands from his view and slid his hair back. They also stained it in red.
He looked at his bloodied hands in a daze before turning around.
“Do me a favor,” he said, eyes fixed on the exit. “Keep my senses shut tight. I don’t want to see it.”
We will, a mind assured him at the same time another asked: Why? It’s not like you cared for them.
That much was true but he’d stayed with each of the owners of the dead bodies strewn around long enough to have some form of attachment to them no matter how minute. He didn’t care for the dead around him, not really, but they were not strangers either.
The death of a stranger unknown touches a person like the rays of the sun on any mundane day. The death of a close one, a loved one, is always like the devastation of a hurricane. The death of someone known with time spent, however, is like a rain on a simple noon day. It might not be devastating with lasting effects but it remains something felt, regardless.
And knowing they had died on the path of satisfying his quest left a taste of guilt in his chest. Knowing Tao Mei had died, head crushed by her own mallet and a severed arm, left him guilty.
But we didn’t bring them with us, a mind refused. We didn’t invite them.
Seth was near the door now and he found himself staring at his dead teammates as well as Gunag. Their eyes were rolled back into their heads, petrified by the fear of knowing death had come. Their placement showed they’d never stood a chance, dead guardians to an open door.
Standing at the door, he looked back. Only Jaola and Drew had gone any real distance. And only because—he suspected—the man had allowed them.
This is not our fault, a mind insisted.
“True,” Seth agreed, solemn. “But it doesn’t change the fact that this was my quest, not theirs. It doesn’t change the fact that they died to my quest.”
He stepped out of the room with the rondo of chaos that was the constant quakes and shaking walls and his minds bade him go left.
He listened and turned to the left, knowing his way out lay to the right. He walked a distance without seeing a single corpse, reia beast or otherwise.
As he walked, he took the time to cycle his core. He hoped the activity would take his mind from what bothered him. While it did not, it at least helped replenish his reia no matter how slowly. It seemed in the time between the strange man’s departure and now, his core had refused to replenish itself. It was odd.
Eventually he came to what the man had told him he would find.
In front of him lay a corpse of a shroud wraith. How it had gotten this far and how it had died were secondary worries in his mind, although his minds did speculate as he knelt before it. There were no wounds he could see, no bruises to tell what had happened. As best as he and his minds could deduce, the beast was simply dead. As if it had been born this way.
Following the stranger’s advice, he unsheathed one of his twin blades and went to work. He cut through the silver skin easily where he’d half expected to hack and saw. The edge of his blade going through it was like knife through butter and he sliced it up with a surgical cleanliness. Before long he was staring at its heart through wide ribs. He drew a deep cut in it, reached into it with his right hand and stopped. Changing his mind, he dipped his left hand into its heart.
He rummaged around for a while before finding what he sought. When he did, he held it up even though it was too dark to see clearly. The fragment was nothing special but he snuck it into a pocket and turned around, ready to be done with this place.
He followed the same path he had taken away from Gunag. He climbed up the stairs where he’d fallen; where he’d first sensed the fissure; where he’d abandoned Gunag. He wondered if he should’ve done things differently. If he could’ve changed the outcome of events. If he hadn’t abandoned Gunag maybe they wouldn’t have come in search of him. Maybe they wouldn’t be dead.
And we wouldn’t complete the quest, a mind returned.
Seth scoffed and pulled the quest up.
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New Quest: [Beast Glade]
There exists out in the calmness of a nest, a crack in the world. It is the world broken, unable to heal. From it spawns greater wounds and greater rewards. Find this crack and heal it before time runs out.
Time Remaining: 19:32:12:81.
Objectives: 2/8.
[Find a Clue to the Glades] 1/1.
[Find the Glades] 1/1.
[Play a part in Clearing the Glades] 1/2.
[Exterminate Soul Beasts] 2/4.
[Fissures Found] 2/2
[Fissures Closed] 0/2
Reward: Possible Skill.
Consequence: Possible Death.
Hidden Objective: [The One Who Doesn’t Belong]
You have stumbled across a being who has no place here. His existence threatens more than just you have found him and his prolonged presence threatens the birth of another fissure. Insurmountable as he is, one must lead him back to whence he came. You cannot. However, there exists a silver lining. His time here is limited and he has not come for war. He has come to teach. Learn from this being so he can be on his way.
Objective: [Learn a Skill] 1/1
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“Does it look complete to you?”
Silence met his question and he snorted, banishing the notification into blackened wisps.
“I thought so.”
Soon he traversed the paths he’d taken with Gunag. He went up flights of stairs and walked by familiar rooms and halls. There was a path with a broken wall he didn’t remember. Though most of the walls were cracked to breaking with chunks of their ceilings missing, this one’s destruction seemed different, as if something had gone through it.
The tremor continued through his journey. The sound of fighting and panic was drawing near when one of his minds halted him.
We think we’re close enough, it thought. Any closer and we’ll have to fight. And we don’t have the reia for that. It’s time to use the fragment.
As much as Seth found himself hating the stranger, he knew enough not to ignore the advice of those incomparably strong. Disagreeing with himself, he pulled out the soul fragment and tightened his left hand around it.
The man had asked him to think of the strongest reia beast he’d ever faced fighting against the strongest soul mage he’d ever met. The former came easily.
A Guda Snake came to mind unsurprisingly. Since becoming an adventurer, he was certain he’d met more powerful beasts than it. But compared to who he was at the time he’d met it, it was powerful. Killing it had taken every ounce of him.
When he thought of the most powerful soul mage he’d ever met, his mind went to the smirking stranger for the coldest moment before it was drowned out in dark skin and silver eyes. He didn’t bother to fight the thought or attempt to correct it. Instead, he moved on to the final step.
He thought of Jabari standing before the massive snake in combat. The answer to what would happen came easily. His mind went back to a calm sea at the edge of a hurricane. He envisioned a massive ball of deep white blotting out the sky. Then it fell in a single condensed line so powerful it was a physical thing. The snake ceased to exist as easily as a ship with a sizable crew once did.
That was power.
He tightened his fist around the fragment and cycled his reia. As if to claim its need for none of his assistance his reia had barely started its path through his channels when he heard the shattering sound of glass breaking.
In his hand the fragment turned to sand and he felt a power course through him.
It was full and warm, yet carried with it a threat at its edges. It was a promise as long as he could keep it. So this was what it was like to absorb a fragment. This was what it was like to be souled.
The strength flooded him slowly.
Then it became pain, and it filled his head like a thousand angry termites, biting and chewing, boring through a length of wood that was now his mind.
He howled in pain and held his head in both hands begging it to stop. He knew he needed to control it but couldn’t bring himself to listen as he bled through his nose and ears. He cried as he fell to his knees, head still gripped in both hands and cursed everything he knew.
The pain cared nothing for his pleadings and curses. It took his minds in its hands and reshaped it in a fashion that pleased it, drowning out all not chaos of rumblings and falling roofs. Pain was all he knew.
It brought him pain as a conqueror brought his enemies wrath.
The last thing that registered was the cacophonous thoughts of his pleading minds. Each one had something to say, something to think. Whatever it was proved irrelevant. All that mattered was that he understood nothing of them. Yet he knew they begged as he did.
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Each one was an epiphany in pain he did not understand. A madness that refused to comprehend him. Then, slowly, as if in mockery of him, something else happened.
His mind broke.
The pain never left.
And he took solace buried in madness.