Theo, Tresk, Aarok, Luras, Xol’sa, and Zarali sat around a table in the Adventurer’s Guild. The marshling’s ascension to the Throne of the Dreamer had been shared with a select few under the protection of the alchemist’s aura of silence. No one had questioned why Tresk had appeared in their dreams yet, but she was instructed to calm it down until they could weigh the implications of such a power.
“But does she have the authority to destroy this being?” Xol’sa said. It had taken him the least time to accept this new state as fact.
“Hard to say,” Theo said, cracking his knuckles. “Her position is vague, compared to the Herald.”
“Can we stab it? Can we shoot it?” Aarok grumbled.
“Not likely,” Tresk answered. “Hanan would have done that already.”
“We’re once again beholden to the elf,” Luras said, leaning back in his chair and yawning. “How boring.”
“But we get a free city out of the deal!” Tresk shouted, jumping up to do a little dance. “Can’t argue with that!”
“And the political implications that came with it,” Zarali scoffed. “Political and godly, actually. Lord Drogramath’s influence will clash against another.”
The group squabbled for some time, arguing with each other about nothing at all. Things were in motion and there was no way to stop them. Zan’kir and his guns roared on the bay, keeping the city where it was for now. Fenian raced to the alliance on the pirate ship, destined to free the new king from his shackles. Theo’s mind wandered elsewhere as he thought about these things, unsure about how he felt concerning other loose ends.
Of the entities that could screw with any plans led by Theo or his allies, Emperor Kuzan from the elven nation of Tarantham, and the Wanderer were the most volatile. Everything else had been ironed out well enough, including the addition of Tresk to the holder of thrones. Only one remained to be claimed, and the alchemist planned to seize it himself. He had a decent enough idea about where it went, confident that the extra-planar elves held it hostage somewhere across the void.
“My last question for you, Theo,” Aarok said, snapping the alchemist out of his thoughts. “What do the other gods think about this?”
“Should you even reveal this information?” Zarali asked, looking concerned.
“I don’t know,” Theo said. “This aura of shadow prevents people from hearing me, but that wouldn’t stop someone like Khahar from predicting it.”
“Confide in Khahar,” Luras said. “No one else.”
“Don’t trust Khahar,” Xol’sa said, snorting his disapproval.
“Trust only yourself!” Alex said unhelpfully.
Theo drew his aura in, clicking his tongue. A forked path stood before him. Zaul suspected some foul play in the heavens, but he was a crusty old shadow person. Khahar was an old friend with a design for a better world. Without using the Tero’gal Dreampassage ability, the alchemist slipped through reality. After encountering the Dreamer, he felt a closer affinity to his developing power but suspected the core Zaul gave him empowered him more than he realized.
“Quite rude,” Khahar said, turning as Theo appeared in the office within the Arbiter’s Citadel. “You don’t even knock anymore.”
Theo smiled to himself, taking a seat in the nearest comfortable chair. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Yuri.”
“No you don’t,” Khahar said, staring out the window. Down through the clouds rested his realm, sprawling far into the distance. “I’m just your crazy uncle Khahar. Doing wacky Arbiter stuff.”
Theo weighed his words carefully, then shrugged. What was the point of keeping anything from him? “How much do you know about what’s going on?”
“Did she ascend the throne last week, or yesterday?”
“Yesterday,” Theo said.
“And Zaul already gave you the bugged core?”
“Yup.”
“Then we’re still in one future I saw. Although I’ll cross a few off from my list.”
“Ya gonna explain Zaul’s core?”
Khahar waved his hand dismissively. “Just an old fool who won’t let his power go. An original god from the First Ascension that has avoided pruning. But you don’t have to worry about me. The other gods might have it out for you, but not me.”
“Always good when the omnipotent dude says ‘you have nothing to worry about. I’m not evil, I swear!’”
Khahar chuckled. “Good one. Uz’Xulven hasn’t figured out you’ve been bypassing the Bridge.”
“She won’t,” Theo reassured him. “As long as you don’t rat on me.”
“Zaul poured more of his power into that core than he should have. That’s a lot of effort to thumb his nose at us. Anyway, was this the only reason for your visit?”
“Basically. Just checking to see if stealing a piece of a realm is against the rules.”
“Nope. No one is supposed to be able to do it. So you’re good,” Khahar said, giving Theo the thumbs-up.
Theo didn’t know if Khahar noticed what was happening to him. He probably noticed. That guy noticed everything. Something pulled in the alchemist’s chest, drawing him back toward the mortal plane. He shouldn’t have been here, no matter how much he wanted to remain. It reminded him of the sensations souls felt when they were trespassing in foreign realms. With a half-hearted wave, he let himself get dragged back into the void. It was like falling backwards into a pool of water, the chill of emptiness filling his body in an instant. But within the void there was peace. A silence so deep he couldn’t hear his breath, or his heartbeat.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
For a moment, Theo glimpsed a sprawling field of gems glittering in the dark. It seemed endless, the light almost blinding. The moment passed and he fell back onto the mortal plane, his butt hitting the ground hard. The alchemist glared up at Tresk, who had moved his chair.
“Ha-ha!” she shouted, pointing at him.
Theo stood, straightening his coat. “You suck,” he said, leaving the room.
The war room would go on for some time, but Theo had other things to do. No one broke their conversation as he left, although Tresk continued to giggle. He stepped out onto the streets, finding more activity than he expected. People were stacking wooden crates and shouting between each other. Gael, Gwyn, and Alise pitched in or barked orders.
“What’s up?” Theo asked, placing a hand on Alise’s shoulder. She looked up at him with a weak smile.
“We can’t contribute to the war effort, but we can read the reports,” she said, patting a box with a grin. “We’re preparing relief aid for the city.”
The reports Theo submitted included Hanan’s compliance once the city fell. So long as the creature was killed, the people within Qavell needed help. Assuming they had any food stores at all, perhaps in dimensional storage crates, the population of the city was vast. Her people would be hungry and thirsty. Scared by their captor and untrusting of their saviors. The administrators were perfect to make first contact. An armful of food rather than weapons was better.
“What an amazing idea,” Theo said, smiling down at the woman. “You guys rock.”
“Thanks,” Alise said, offering a shy smile. “Just finding my path. You should help Ziz. Anyone who isn’t working on the food is helping with a bridge.”
Theo snapped his fingers. How did he expect to get to the city if they didn’t have a way to get to the city? He thanked Alise again, jogging off to the harbor, then north to the site of their tsunami-breaker. Sarisa and Rowan followed close behind, leaving the shadows in favor of haste. The area of the beach where they had started the wall was buzzing with activity. Locals from Broken Tusk worked with folks from both Rivers and Gronro, passing stones between themselves in a chain to bolster the causeway. Ziz’s wall was mostly done on the piled stone. It didn’t look sturdy enough to stop a tidal wave, but it was better than nothing.
“Ah! Just the demon I need,” Ziz said, looking up from the length of stones he was working on. Wet mortar dripped from his fingertips, staining his face in long smears. “Use some of that fancy magic to help these poor folks.”
Theo nodded, slotting his Earth Sorcerer’s Core and getting to work. Doing this work by hand was a nightmare, and he didn’t know how they had gotten as far as they had. The crowd clapped when the alchemist hoisted a large pile of rocks, carrying it across the causeway to deposit on the far end. The alchemist understood what Ziz was doing on his third pass of dropping rocks into the sea. He was creating prefabricated structures that he could add to his inventory. This was exactly like the failed bridge to the lizard islands. The only difference was that this bridge didn’t need to span a length of angry seas. The bay was calm enough where he could set the supports with ease.
Zan’kir’s weapons rang out in the distance, sending shots hurtling toward Qavell once again. They moved too fast and high to spot them, but the deadly impacts were reported through the administration interface. Theo picked up his pace, feeling as though a monster were on his tail, prepared to strike. He tried using his authority and domain to move large chunks of land, but it didn’t work. Something might have been drained from him when he took a piece of the Dreamer’s realm, or he didn’t have the authority to act on the mortal realm. Instead, he chugged more mana potions and moved stones with his sorcerer core.
Despite the coat that brought him to the perfect temperature, Theo was sweating. He dabbed his brow after a trickle of sweat rolled down to sting his eye. The scent of low tide filled the air as they worked, dying sea vegetation mingling with salt. The next time the weapons fired, Theo spotted the arc of the shots. He swallowed hard, narrowing his eyes on the horizon. A gray mountain poked from around a bend, more of it coming into view by the moment. The weapons fired again and the mountain glittered with energy.
Theo grit his teeth, biting back the words of warning he wanted to shout. Something in his chest told him about the danger. Words that were spoken to him days ago came back. If they had weapons that could fire long-range, so did Qavell. The alchemist switched back to his Zaul core, using Spirit Weaving on his next spell. He chugged a Greater Intelligence Potion. With his mind buzzing, he used one more ability. The Intuitive Nodes skill from his Toru’aun Core drew on the power of Tero’gal to empower a spell. He infused his ad-hoc defensive ward with the power of an entire realm.
The shield that flowed forth from Theo’s hands, powered by the words of his chant, sprung to encompass more area than Broken Tusk occupied. Shots rippled out from Qavell, slamming against the shield without effect. But the alchemist felt those strikes in his bones, driving him to his knees as he clenched his teeth. The gathered crowd scattered, fleeing the scene for the safety of the walls. Theo felt powerful hands hook under his arms, lifting him to his feet as Sarisa and Rowan stood sentinel.
“We good, Theo?” Sarisa asked, scanning the area for something to do.
Theo tried not to laugh, maintaining his focus on the spell. Ziz was still working, undeterred by the magic striking against the shield. Tresk appeared nearby with Alex. The goose pressed her head against his chest, and the marshling put two hands on his back. The connection the spell had with Tero’gal doubled, rendering it as an impenetrable force field.
“That was the last-ditch plan,” Theo grunted, his hands quivering as he maintained the barrier. “Didn’t know they were so close.”
Tresk nodded, drawing both daggers. “Plan B.”
It didn’t pass Theo’s notice that they were coated in Venom. Before he could object, she was on Alex’s back, soaring into the air.
“Where the hell is Fenian?” Rowan grumbled.
A rift appeared next to Theo. Zarali and Xol’sa stepped out, eyes going wide when they saw the source of the barrier. The Drogramathi Priestess slammed her staff against the ground, chanting a prayer to her lord. Theo felt renewed as a message popped up.
You have received [Blessing of Drogramath] from [Zarali].
“Watch this,” Theo said, pulling his focus inward. He expanded his aura. With great effort, he matched the size of his Toru’aun barrier with his own aura.
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King Hanan paced in his chambers, chewing at his nails. He had already drawn blood on all ten, but he couldn’t stop. The Dreamer’s message was clear. There was hope. But the creature had taken control of the city, puppeting it to do his bidding. The automated defenses on the walls were already firing on the poor town below. Even if the Dreamer’s promise could come true, they wouldn’t survive long enough to rescue his people.
Hanan drew a ragged breath, letting it out with equal pain. He stepped out onto his balcony, looking down at the water rushing by below. His eyes dragged up to the place his city was attacking and saw something strange. The king’s heart stopped beating for a moment as he saw a barrier more powerful than he could imagine. It covered most of the coastline, encompassing an area larger than Qavell itself.
“There is hope,” he said, heart hammering hard in his chest. “Just a glimmer, but… What!?”
The king tumbled backwards, falling on his ass and slamming his head against a dresser. He looked up, groaning and clutching his wound. If he wasn’t fairly high-leveled, he would have had a heart attack. The Dreamer stood before him, a wicked dagger in each hand and a smile on her face. Of all things, a goose the size of a healthy milk karatan stood before her, honking in anger.
“You’re…”
“Where is the jerk?” the Dreamer asked.
“The entity is in… He’s in the throne room!” Hanan said, gesturing vaguely behind him. “My people know about you. They won’t attack.”
“Yeah, I got this,” the dreamer said, rolling her shoulders. “Just sit tight, king. I’ve got an interdimensional bird-person to kill.”
The muscles in Hanan’s jaw bunched as he grit his teeth. Here he was, sitting and whimpering like some fresh-faced adventurer in their first dungeon. He let out a scream, punched himself in the stomach, then grabbed his spear before following after the Dreamer.