Prison, The Serpent Isles - 10th day of the Sardonyx Moon, Year 24 AH
Regis’s eyes scanned the letter he was holding, memorizing the curling, inked words. He recognized it from the speech the mayor of the first village had given. The Ministry, it seemed, had widely distributed this throughout the Serpent Isles. Outside of the speech itself, however, there was precious little in the way of information regarding the System. He set it down and picked up the next one.
Outside, the sun hung high in the sky. The office was one of the few places in the prison containing a large window, and Regis could feel the warmth emanating from the glass. He found it rather soothing. This sort of soft sun had been rare in Abaddon and entirely absent from the Flesh Fields. Demons may be suited to the cold, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy other temperatures.
The beaming sunlight highlighted the assortment of weapons and other supplies gathered around the floor. They’d searched through the dead bodies and the rest of the building, gathering anything that seemed worthwhile. Regis finished scanning the current letter and moved on to the next one in the stack.
The vast majority of the letters consisted of correspondences from the Ministry. Most requested updates on Hal’s status. He ran his fingers over the corner of the page, where the date had been scrawled in small black letters. It seemed these letters had once arrived on a nearly weekly basis, but had grown increasingly less frequent over the years as time soothed the Ministry’s unease regarding the angel’s capture. The latest one was dated this year during the Pearl Moon.
Regis hummed to himself. Assuming the Ministry kept to its current annual schedule and sent another letter in a year, that would give them about ten months before they realized no one was inside the prison. That should be more than enough time.
The door to the office swung open with a loud creak. Regis looked up to see Hal standing in the doorway. He set the current letter aside and reached for the cord-bound book that, upon opening, was revealed to be guard records.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
The angel saluted lazily. “Moved all the bodies into the cell and shut the door.” He snorted and plopped down on the small couch resting in the corner of the room. “Really gave me a workout there. Why’d you want to move the bodies there anyway? I get moving the ones outside, but I could’ve just piled them in the hallway or something.”
“This prison is innocuous enough that most travelers wouldn’t give it a second glance,” Regis explained simply, “but if the bodies were to decay and a passerby noticed the smell, that may draw attention here.” He raised an eyebrow. “That, and I thought the exertion might help you gain a few more levels.”
Hal made a mock-offended sound, and the demon chuckled. He set the journal down.
“Speaking of which, what level have you reached?”
Hal squinted at the air in front of him, presumably reading his status screen. Regis had already known that the System notifications were only visible to their user, but he still found it rather amusing to see this in practice.
“Twelve,” the angel finally concluded. Higher than predicted. “This shit’s fucking weird. How’s it even know what abilities to give you?”
“My current theory is that it analyzes your magic signature to draw from past memories and experiences,” Regis said. “I’m unfortunately unable to detect a signature from the System itself, but I do suspect it to be the work of an individual. Perhaps a group.”
Hal nodded. “Gotta be powerful as hell to pull something like this off.”
“Exactly. That is why I’d like to run a trace on the System as soon as possible.” It had undoubtedly aided him greatly, but he wasn’t inclined to place all his trust in something so mysterious when its origins were still unknown to him.
Hal hummed thoughtfully. “That’s the plan, then?”
“Part of it, yes.” Regis set the last book down and rose to his feet, stepping over to the map hanging on the office wall. It was quite faded, the lines weathered with age, but the shapes of the continents and major cities were still visible.
He placed a hand on their current position at the bottom left of the map. Like this, it was abundantly clear how small the Serpent Isles were compared to the rest of Elaren. His eyes shifted eastward, where Cannia lay far across the wide expanse of the Echoing Sea. It seemed humanity had chosen to move the Ministry there following the war, perhaps in a symbolic gesture. That was where the otherworlder would be.
“Hal, how much do you know about the current state of the world?” he asked conversationally. The angel shrugged.
“Not much. Some of the guards liked to yap, dropped a few tidbits here and there, but that was about it.”
“I see.” Regis cocked his head, eyes still fixed on the map. “It is not faring particularly well. The vast majority of the war alliances have broken apart, and there have been a number of conflicts arising throughout Elaren. It seems there’s growing dissatisfaction with the actions of the Ministry as well.”
He turned around to face Hal with a smile. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? The world is in no better a place than it was before the war. One might even argue that it is heading down a worse path.” In the end, the otherworlder’s vows and speeches had amounted to nothing more than pretty words.
Hal studied him closely, absorbing the information. Slowly, a smile spread across his face as he recognized the unspoken implications of the demon’s words. That was one of the benefits of having the angel as his general. They’d known each other for so long that he often didn’t need to elaborate on his intentions.
“So? We going after him? I could use a little revenge.” There was only one person that ‘him’ could be referring to.
“Not yet.” Regis turned back to the map, focusing his attention on the Serpent Isles. “I’m afraid in our current states, a direct confrontation would only result in defeat.” Perhaps a permanent defeat, at that. He hummed consideringly. “We will need to regain power and sow mistrust towards the otherworlder. I believe a crucial mistake the first time was not swaying more people to our side.”
Despite the clear anger towards the Ministry that he’d seen in all the articles and books he’d read thus far, the otherworlder, it seemed, had escaped much of the ire despite purportedly serving as the Ministry’s head. His status as a war hero and savior had protected him from criticism, but after twenty years the glow of goodwill would soon begin to fade.
Brute force would only take Regis so far. He had no interest in ruling a ruined world, and lingering discontent would only result in further strife in the future. He could not simply cut down the tree; he needed to uproot it entirely.
Regis tapped the northern end of their current island on the map, where a faded label read: The White Cliffs.
“Based on my reading, a High Mage lives here,” the demon explained. “He is supposedly a collector of rare magic components and artifacts. He will likely possess the necessary materials to perform the trace spell. I suggest we make this our first destination. The System has proven exceptionally useful for us thus far, but I would like to understand its origins before we proceed further.”
“Sounds good to me.” Hal’s gaze flitted across the map, taking in the long distance from the Serpent Isles to Cannia. “Looks like we’re in for the long haul.”
Regis nodded in agreement. “The road from here will prove long and arduous. Rebuilding our strength will not be an easy feat.” He turned to the angel.
“Before we set out, I should ask if you’re certain about following me.” He’d never forced his generals to work for him in the past, and he wouldn’t start now. When they’d betrayed him, he’d let them leave and pretended not to hear as they fled to the otherworlder in the night. Losing the angel would be a significant blow, but not an insurmountable one.
Hal snorted. “Oh come on, you really asking me that? I already betrayed my whole species. I’m not about to back down now.” He grinned. “You already killed me, like, a hundred times and that didn’t stop me the first time. One more death by some interdimensional brat doesn’t make much of a difference.
Regis felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. “In fairness, you were the one who first tried to kill me. I was acting in self defense.”
Hal waved dismissively. “Pssht, that was centuries ago. Bygones and all that. We’re both different now.” Pale eyes scanned the demon, and he cocked his head to the side. His grin widened. “Besides, for all that talk about hard times or whatever, you’re not even that mad about this whole thing, are you?”
Regis hummed. “Well, it is certainly rather tedious that we should need to regain power that was once already ours, and I’ve no doubt that we will encounter many obstacles along the way.”
Hal raised an eyebrow. “But?”
The demon smiled, eyes gleaming violet in the light. “But, I have always enjoyed a challenge.”
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Regis gazed up at the azure sky. High above the forest canopy, the sun had just passed its apex, its rays highlighting the swaying grasses around the prison. They’d left later than he’d like, but there’d been more information and supplies to be found than expected. Many of the items they’d had no choice but to leave behind, given their limited carrying capacity, but they’d stocked up on rations and found new weapons to replace their old ones.
On the other side of the rune circle, Hal squinted down at the etchings in the earth. The angel was crouched down, his white wings brushing against the ground as he carefully redrew the lines of the rune Regis had adjusted. The barrier did, indeed, react to the demon as if he were a human.
“Okay, I think that’s it?” Hal rose back to his feet and patted the dirt off his hands. Regis stepped forward, and he was able to pass through without issue.
“Thank you,” he said. He glanced back at the circle, and after some consideration, he decided to adjust the runes again to prevent humans from entering. A strong enough mage would have no issue getting past, but this was another way to deter curious travelers from wandering too close.
Behind him, Hal sighed dramatically. “Guess we’re both stuck using the Pulse now, huh?”
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“It does seem to be our only option for now, yes.” Unlike the demon, Hal had never bothered to learn to channel the Pulse. He knew most of the runes—living so long had its benefits—but he rarely put them to practice, instead preferring to rely on his innate connection to the Ark.
Regis raised a hand. It hit an invisible wall as he attempted to reach over the circle, and he nodded and stepped back. Now that that was done, they could continue forward.
“You think this’s permanent?” Hal asked as they made their way through the quiet forest. He gestured vaguely at them, and the demon hummed consideringly.
“No, it would be nearly impossible to completely sever our link to the Ark. I suspect the connection, though weakened now, will strengthen with time. Once that happens we will be able to channel the Ark again. Until then, we’ll need to rely on the System abilities and the Pulse.”
Hal nodded in understanding, and the two continued forward with Regis leading the way.
They soon reached the area where the demon had left his bag, and he was pleased to find it untouched. He picked it up and dusted it off, then took a moment to assess their current location. Finally, he turned in the direction of Barcombe. He’d traveled around the village on the way here, but perhaps they should pay it a visit now that the prison was taken care of.
“Are you able to hide your wings?” he asked Hal. The angel’s appearance, from what he’d seen and read thus far, was not widely advertised after the war—perhaps an attempt from Avalon to avoid the shame of such a high profile traitor.
Regardless, Hal had spent much of the war in his lesser or true forms, so his diminished form should not be recognizable to the public. He wouldn’t draw attention provided they were able to hide his wings. Angels, after all, were rarely seen outside Avalon. Anyone would give one a second glance.
Hal’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.” He furrowed his brow, a gesture Regis was beginning to recognize as him viewing his status screen. “I got this trait my last level up, [Beyond Perception].” He snorted. “Weird ass name, but apparently it makes it so people can’t see my wings unless they already know I’m an angel. Cool, right?” He sounded rather pleased, and Regis smiled.
“It certainly is. This will alleviate quite a few headaches. Are there any limitations?” Based on his own experience, System traits tended to come with restrictions that he assumed would be loosened the higher in level the trait was.
“Yep, it doesn’t work on Ark users. So no angels, demons or reapers. But if we run into one of those, we’re probably fucked anyway.”
Regis was inclined to agree with the assessment. He nodded. It would do for now.
“Why’re we going to the village anyway? We don’t need supplies or anything.”
“I’d like to see if there is any recent news,” Regis replied as he navigated around a particularly dense overgrowth. “The System should’ve spread fairly far by now, and I’d like to know if news of Markus has reached Barcombe yet.”
Hal’s eyes flitted over to him. “Markus?”
“I killed him two days ago.”
Regis’s voice was plain and matter-of-fact. He glanced over at the angel briefly, gauging his reaction. Hal was silent for a moment, expression blank, before he finally shrugged. Unperturbed.
“Okay. Who’s that leave?”
The demon turned back to the path ahead. “Based on my research, Thelegon, Tivona, Pax, and now Markus are dead. Mordecai, Adela, and Pyran are traitors. Jael is missing. Belphor seems to have fled to Abaddon, and Frey and Rysar—”
“—don’t really count as allies,” Hal finished. He grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Well, guess that just leaves us. Just like old times.”
Regis chuckled. “Indeed.”
They continued through the woods, retracing the path the demon had taken to arrive at the prison.
After about an hour of traveling, the sharp silhouettes of building rooftops could soon be seen peeking out from above the canopy. Regis took the opportunity to adjust his cloak so that it covered his face. They’d already changed clothes and cleaned away any remaining bloodstains in the prison, but an added bit of caution wouldn’t hurt. He heard a rustle as Hal did the same beside him. The angel folded his wings closer to his body, and Regis found his eyes lingering on the bandages wrapped around and around the feathers. He turned back to the village.
Barcombe was larger than Magburg, but not quite as large as the first town Regis had passed through. A few two-story homes added some variety to the rooflines, and the main street had been paved with round stones. The demon’s eyes scanned the area, noting the bright ribbons and banners decorating the buildings. Even more decorations lay strewn about the ground, and he could see several villagers carefully working to put them up.
“Damn, time flies,” Hal said from behind him. He was looking at the same banner that had caught Regis’s attention, the one that read: TWENTY YEARS SINCE THE HERO’S VICTORY.
He’d nearly forgotten. He’d been so focused since his awakening that he’d lost track of time. Two more days would officially mark the twenty year anniversary of his defeat at the Field of the Fallen. Judging from the scale of the decorations and planning, the festivities would be quite grand—perhaps the largest scale festival this town saw annually.
A low chuckle broke Regis out of his wandering thoughts. He glanced over to Hal and raised an eyebrow.
“Is something amusing?”
“Nah, it’s just—” The angel paused for a moment to swallow another laugh. “They really think you’re dead dead, huh?” He let out another snort. “It’s gonna be so fucking funny when they find out you’re alive.”
Regis found himself smiling as well. “Perhaps so.” He glanced over at the area again.
On closer inspection, though the villagers looked rather busy, the streets were distinctly lacking the aura of cheer that typically accompanied such festivities. Instead, a heavy unease seemed to hang in the air, present in tense shoulders and darting gazes. Villagers stood in clusters whispering to each other, their voices kept low as though they were scared to speak too loudly. Regis’s eyes narrowed. He strode forward, his pace slow and casual, towards two young women standing nearby.
“Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly. They jumped, pulled out of their current conversation. He saw their gazes move over him and Hal behind him, lingering perhaps a little longer on their faces, but displaying no recognition or surprise at the angel’s wings. It was as though they were not there at all. His System trait, it seemed, functioned exactly as described.
“Hello,” the one with brown hair said. She looked a bit more suspicious than her companion did, her gaze landing first on Regis’s sheathed sword and then on the axe strapped to Hal’s back. “Can we help you?”
Regis gestured behind him and gave no indication that he was aware of her mistrust. “My friend and I are travelers,” he explained. “We were wondering if you could provide us with some directions.”
The woman blinked, evidently taken aback by the friendliness. “Uh, sure. Where to?”
“High Mage Markus’s home,” the demon said smoothly. Both of the womens’ faces fell, and they exchanged a glance, shifting awkwardly. It seemed his guess had been correct.
Regis frowned. “Is something wrong?”
The brunette seemed hesitant, but her friend nudged her. “Oh just tell them,” she said. “They’ll find out soon enough anyway.” She turned to the two.
“Markus’s home burned to the ground two nights ago,” she explained. “They—they found his body burned to a crisp.” She shuddered, and Regis adjusted his expression into one of shocked horror.
“That’s terrible. Do they know what happened?”
The first woman who’d spoken shook her head. “They think it was an accident. The explosion looked like it came from a potion. They’re saying he might’ve mixed the wrong ones.” Her eyes were downcast. “We were so close to the festival, too. This was supposed to be a happy time.” She made a frustrated noise, glaring at the ground. “First the System, then Magburg, Canedge, and now this. What in the Ark’s going on?”
Canedge. That was the name of the first town he’d passed through. Regis adjusted his expression to one of troubled confusion.
“Canedge? We were just there a week ago. Did something happen?”
She shook her head. “I wish I knew. All I heard is that the place’s a mess. The last person who passed by said the village was wrecked and people were fighting in the streets.”
Regis internally raised an eyebrow. It seemed his [Amplify Vice] test had sparked a larger riot than he’d guessed. Considering the discontent he’d seen levelled at the mayor, perhaps that shouldn’t have been a surprise. The System’s appearance would only have spurred on the unrest—it was easier to rebel with new tools and abilities given to you.
“I see, thank you for informing us. I still can’t quite believe what happened to Markus. Truly horrible.”
The two nodded dully. The brunette’s eyes flitted between Regis and Hal again.
“You said you two’re travelers, right? Well you’d better watch yourselves. Been hearing about more fights breaking out with that System thing showing up. We might not get a peaceful festival this year.”
“Don’t say that,” the woman’s friend hissed, but she was ignored. Regis nodded.
“We’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” He gave the two a final nod, then turned to continue down the road.
Once they were out of earshot and far enough away from other villagers, Hal asked, “So? What’s the deal with Magburg and Canedge?”
“I conducted a brief experiment in Canedge,” Regis replied. “It seems that may have spiralled. As for Magburg, that is where my vessel was from.”
“Ah right, your meat suit.” Hal squinted at him. “That guy still in there, by the way?”
“No, I encouraged him to pass. I thought it would be more merciful than if I’d allowed him to remain trapped in his mind.”
The angel snorted. “Yeah, I bet. And one less thing for you to worry about.”
Regis smiled. “That too.”
His eyes swept over the streets, searching for any signs of unrest. Though he had no way of knowing how long it would take for the System to reach everyone, he guessed all of Elaren would be fully integrated by the end of the month. Places like Barcombe, it seemed, had not changed much since its first appearance a week ago. Regis guessed that by the end of the month, more and more places would end up in a similar state as Canedge. He may be able to use this unrest to his advantage. He hummed to himself.
Perhaps, Regis thought, they should pay Canedge a visit.
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Hazy moonlight shone above them. They’d stopped to rest within the forest, close enough to the main road to glimpse it through the trees, but far enough away to be hidden at first glance. Hal was lying back on the grasses, his wings unbandaged and stretched out to expose the wound to fresh air. It appeared no better than it had in the cell, but Regis supposed that not much time had passed.
The demon used the opportunity to change his own bandage. The cut on his arm seemed to be healing nicely. It was no longer bleeding, and a rough texture had formed above the wound that sealed the skin shut.
He poked at it, and it still did not bleed. He may be able to go without the bandage now, but he elected to wrap it again out of caution. Perhaps he should study some medical texts on the human body. Considering that [Demonic Possession] still had “on cooldown” listed beside it, he would likely be in this vessel for a long time yet.
“So, you need to sleep now or what?”
Regis glanced up from his arm to look at Hal. “I do,” he replied. “Though I’ll admit I’m not the most fond of the experience.”
“Ha! I knew you’d hate it.”
“I truly don’t understand why you would choose to do so. I see no appeal in deliberate unconsciousness.”
Hal barked a laugh. “Hey, it’s as close to dying as I can get. I’ll take it.”
Regis raised an eyebrow. “I believe spending ten years regenerating would be closer, would it not?”
The angel opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. “Shit, you’re right.”
Regis chuckled and finished tying off the bandage, pleased to find that it looked significantly neater than it had the first time.
Around them, the forest remained quiet. The sky was a darkened shadow looming above. Two nights ago, it had been filled with the rising smoke from Markus’s burned home. Now there was nothing left but a pile of ash. Life, the demon thought, could be so fragile and transient. Their own existences were not so different—the world had accepted their deaths readily.
“I will take first watch,” Regis said. Hal raised an eyebrow.
“You sure? I don’t actually need sleep. I could just stay up the whole time.”
“Rest will do well for your wounds. We still have some distance to go before we reach Canedge.”
Hal shrugged, but didn’t argue. He flopped back onto the grasses and closed his eyes. His breaths soon slowed to a steady rhythm.
Regis remained awake, staring up at the scattered stars littering the night sky. In the peaceful silence, he found his mind drifting back to memories of the past. He allowed himself to indulge in them for just a moment before he let them sink back into the recesses of his mind.
The demon breathed in the crisp night air. The past was gone. He would not waste his time reminiscing.
His only focus now was the future.