Chapter 49: L’vay The Imprisoned

Everything was going exactly as Hoka designed. Two of the stronger spirits were just defeated, and between the myrin, elf, Syd, and Jun Mi, the grunt work was easily settled too. All that was left was the stronger members of the sect and she was lining the pieces up now. The two-hour time limit wasn’t likely to be a problem, which meant L’vay wouldn’t be necessary.

It made him bristle.

Even after coming in contact with Hoka's magic he couldn't alter or control it. He could at best get a sense of it like she could, but without touching the spell again he had fewer options than the common human. This night would go by, and he'd once again return to Osheandre's prison, locked away from the world for what may well be several thousand more years. It had already been such a long time since there was a spiritualist strong enough to be his guard, and longer still since his foot last touched soil. When he heard demons were at play he saw his chance for a grand return! But mortals had changed again, only resembling what he remembered in looks alone. Back when he was free, they were little better than mice.

In that time, the world belonged to something better.

Greater beings claimed the lands for themselves, and nations were in the depths of a great war. In the west, Angels reigned from their floating kingdom, and in the east, demons rose from the maelstrom scar. Mere mortals meant nothing. Jotunn, Angels, Demons, and Abominations wrote the pages of history, and those were the greatest times!

But none was more joyous than the war between Angels and Demons. The world quivered at its prospective future, and it was the perfect playground. No one could understand the beauty of ripping off an angel's wings, watching them feel the fabric of their lives come apart. No one could understand the pleasure of capturing the essence of a demon in your hand and crushing it down to the size of a coin. L'vay lived in a greater time, and were he not cast into the maelstrom himself, his name would surely be sung in nightmares.

It wasn’t like he hated the maelstrom either. That chaotic realm of magyeon was a festival. Every plate and shelf of land was a chance to reduce whole empires to hearsay. He still felt himself stir at the thought, but rising through the storm of it eventually brought him to his bittersweet fate.

Osheandre waited on the other side of a scar as if she knew he would be there. A spirit! A wretched manifestation of mortal emotions waiting to trap him forever in her grasp. One spirit, and he missed the world transform. One spirit and he could not understand how such short-lived creatures now sat on its thrones. One spirit, and somehow the magic of a mortal thing was beyond his ability to control. Were it not for Osheandre, he'd turn Hoka's blood to glass and watch her eyes as her heart shredded. But, Osheandre wouldn't let him hurt the girl, taking so many options off the table.

He could not directly hurt her, nor set her pain into motion. He had to protect her, and so long as he was, neither Osheandre nor Chiaki could lock him away again. If the tempo of this battle changed just a bit he’d get to stretch his wings, but the tempo was in the conductor’s hand. He could barely test her either. Though the details were vague, she could sense everyone in the confines of her spell.

Still, he could say she didn't notice that he was hovering 300 feet behind her. By Osheandre's magic, 300 feet was about as far as he could go. He thought he might be able to make a pixie like Hoka did, but then she'd know he was trying something and Osheandre could act. He hissed, he couldn't gather much more information than this. Suddenly, he returned to her side as she started turning her head. She jumped and he smiled. There was no hiding it, his presence only provoked her fear.

Hoka frowned and quickly let it fade, “Things are going well so far.”

"They are, are they not? You dark landers have always fascinated me, I must say. The thing you have done with magic is so intricate that not even I could replicate it. I am surprised you do not rule the world." Dark landers…back then he knew them as those bug-like people that popped up now and again. There were other mortals among them, but the bugs had been around for a long time. Hoka had human and bug blood in her. Her magic might even be older than the Angel and Demon war.

Her frown returned and deepened, “What does that have to do with our mission?”

"Call me impressed," He smiled softly. "Demons were the fear of whole nations at a time, but here you are, keeping a sect under your control. I wonder what ingredients your kind put into this spell." Spatial magic was definitely at work here, but he suspected life magic too. She could sense people after all, but could not tell the difference between a flamebearer and a dragon itself. "Ah, but you are one of your land's lost tribes are you not? I wonder what happened to your kinsmen."

She turned back to her globe. Was it a sore subject, or did she know what he was trying to do? Did she know to be careful when talking to the fae?

“I don’t know,” she murmured at last. “No one knows what happened to the lost tribes.”

“Perhaps an abomination.”

“Not likely.”

No, of course not.

Not with Mordunaal around.

Even L'vay wouldn't be so careless as to challenge Mordunaal, even with Osheandre's shackles broken. Only a powerful abomination could erase an entire tribe, and that dragon would never let one so strong rule again. Still, there had to be an answer here.

"Perhaps it was a faerie then?" He breathed nightmares into that thought.

"Doubt that too." Hoka swatted it away. His smile worsened. So, her tribe wouldn't fear faeries either.

"Ah, but were your people still around they could teach you to do so much more with your magic. I am certain that is why they are not. Perhaps even I have never seen a horror that can snatch them from this world. Perhaps it's better that you do not know them either." He almost sang the words and watched her, felt her, and knew a seed of doubt was setting in.

He let that take root inside her for now.

Hoka returned to her orb as if she was too focused to acknowledge him, and he gave her 300 feet of space again.

It made it easier to laugh to himself. Mortals may still remember to fear demons, but they certainly did not know the workings of a fae mind. She told him so little but he learned so much. Neither demons nor abominations were a threat, nor were the fae. She sensed dragons, and Angels were not so different that they’d go beyond her detection too. Whatever claimed her tribe had a life force she couldn’t detect. But no energy eluded the fae.

He opened himself to the cacophony of it, his skin going hot as all of it touched him at once. He held himself and huffed, remembering the same chaotic breath of the maelstrom, but he fought his euphoria and searched the energies. Mana. Magyeon. Reiki. All of it filled the breeze. He searched again and almost missed it under the howl of the others. There was something he didn’t know; something he couldn’t touch. It leaked into the domain from the space between the realms, and he tore the border, letting more of it pour in.

"Oh, Osheandre," He let out a low chuckle. "No pain? No punishment? I suppose that means I cannot be certain this will hurt the girl. Or perhaps even you cannot know what I have put into motion. Osheandre, it shall be fun to find out together." He watched Hoka closely, certain she'd be the star of this show...

◎◎◎

Meanwhile, Rocwen filled the body of a small spirit and rushed the fruit back to his true presence. The encounter with the redhead had been more trouble than he expected, made doubly so when she turned her eyes on his harvest. He was sure she didn't fully know what it was, but that ability of hers was far too much trouble. Was it a rarity, or the nature of her compatriots? Maybe that had something to do with the Angel country's fall.

He would not let history repeat itself, however, even if his next step wasn't completely clear. If there were another spirit strong enough he'd make another fruit, but one would have to do for now, and one would have to make the difference.

Upon his return, he saw the finale of Chiaki's battle.

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All three possessed cultists had fallen, and the spirit guard ran her sword through the vestige's body. What may have been a fatal blow at first was a tug of war now. The spirit's power tried to take her, and she pushed, drawing from the domain, straining herself as its power filled her enough to change her flesh. He waited, hoping the vestige would somehow solve one of his problems. But she pushed through, unfurling its wrapped roots, leaving only a twig behind.

Chiaki picked it up and crushed it, then let out a hard breath. Her sword slid back into its sheath, and surprisingly, she spoke loudly to herself.

“Hoka, how are things?”

A pixie popped out beside her.

“They’re good! The dragon boy has allies and I’ve been putting them against the grunts! They’re pretty effective and I haven’t had to rescue any of them. Syd and Jun Mi are in good health too. I think we’re ahead of schedule.”

Chiaki sighed in relief. “What do we have left?”

"Three demons, probably the ones Jun Mi told us about. I also have like, four or five demon-like entities."

“Demon-like?” Chiaki’s eyes widened.

“They feel somewhat like demons, but humans too.”

This Hoka was talking about the chosen cultists. Their life forces wouldn't change so quickly. Still, in terms of this battle, they were at a disadvantage. The sect started with a group of nearly fifty and all they had left were the strongest of the bunch. Chiaki turned toward the device the sect built and studied it for a moment.

“Can you set a path for Syd to where I am? There’s something here he should see.”

“Yes, ma’am. Oh! But Chiaki, is there anything else around there. One of the dragon boy’s allies said there was like, a ghost with golden eyes.”

Chiaki swept the area, but she was not going to find him. Not unless she could look beneath the ground and see the spring of him and the streams that broke off to search the domain. He was safe, and getting the information he needed for his next step.

“Nothing. And you can’t sense it?” Chiaki replied.

“No…I don’t sense anything but the sect and some of the malevolent spirits that are still around.”

Those were worthless to Rocwen, but he sensed them too in his own way.

Chiaki sighed again. “Do you have enough stamina to round up the spirits?”

“I do…are you planning to fight them all at once?”

The spirit guard laughed suddenly. “Fortunately I just dealt with worse. Anything this domain manifests as malevolent will not take nearly as much energy out of me.”

“Shouldn’t you rest first though?”

Chiaki closed her eyes. “Do I even have time too?”

"You have plenty of time! There are a lot of strong people still standing. And…" Did Rocwen hear hesitation in the pixie's voice? "There's still L'vay…"

A long-lost physical part of him shuddered.

“What is he doing right now?”

“Not much…he’s being creepy. And I think he did that thing where he makes you feel things…I’ve been feeling bad about my tribe for a moment now.”

"Glamor…" Chiaki murmured. "It should be easy to break. Just remember you've never known your tribe. If Osheandre didn't punish him he's not harming you but be wary of what you say to him."

“Yes, ma’am. But as your conductor, I demand you rest.”

The woman laughed and sat with her legs crossed. She placed her sword in her lap and closed her eyes. “Put me somewhere isolated for now. Alert me when Syd reaches this machine.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Chiaki disappeared, and Rocwen's true presence rose whole from the ground. It plucked the fruit out of the spirit's hands and pulled his lesser presence back with it, turning the fruit in his fingers as he considered what he heard. There was a powerful spell behind the separation of their group? And one mage at the center of it? That gave him a path forward, but it felt dangerous to tread. He had heard of L'vay all those centuries ago.

L’vay the Imprisoned.

A nightmare, especially for demons. Some names just persisted through history, waiting preserved in scrolls like paintings on cave walls. L’vay the Imprisoned. That one was well known when Angels and Demons warred. A faerie so malicious and vile that the only choice was to toss him into the maelstrom and hope that worse demons would keep him there.

Ruelin spoke much on him, and how his presence might change the dynasty's fate. Some said he had already escaped the maelstrom by the height of the Serpent Dynasty, only to be captured and sealed again. Others said a spiritualist had captured him, and was waiting for the right moment to use him against the empire. It seemed the truth revealed itself, and waited like a bomb to blow up in his face.

He bit into the fruit still, knowing he could not let that stop him. The glitter of his body thickened, translucence filling like a storm cloud, form just as dark as it went from rail-thin husk to slender and strong. He was not yet physical again but he was not unlike an elemental, filling the space and bringing astral energy into the world. His presence here could not be broken, and he was more than ready to use it when the astral sphere found him, struck him like a bolt of lightning, charging him beyond anything he ever knew.

He was in the domain and then above it, around it; gargantuan and able to look down upon it like a god. He saw how Hoka shaped it, sealing open space into a multi-layered shape and he grabbed hold of it, forcing his presence to fill it. Layers cracked and fell apart, roads and rooms ripping as he ran fissures through it.

"What's going on!" He found her shrieking as she fought against him, her magic making weak glue that would never form fast enough.

Still, it took a lot. This small girl warred against him, holding it all together, burning the charge the sphere gave. She screamed and he roared in the place between, slamming new roads together as she made some herself. Not unlike Chiaki, he was in a tug of war, and just the same he was coming out on top, as her magic went elsewhere to keep the demons in place.

Before he could ever be ready he was back inside the domain. He shoved his presence into it and found the girl, panting hard and falling over her orb.

L’vay the Imprisoned stood behind her.

"Whatever has happened to you, Hoka?" His words were somehow both caring and hysterical.

She huffed again and again, trying to find her breath to speak. Rocwen watched her, trying to find out if his changes stuck.

“My spell…” She murmured at last. “Something changed my spell…” The orb blinked as if a moment from blinking out. “I can’t hold people in place anymore. Syd and Chiaki are in danger…” What was she doing? He was sure her magic was still in effect, certain she was still making roads.

"What should I do?" L'vay's words were just joy now, dripping with it maliciously.

Hoka looked at him, more afraid than tired, realizing what her words would mean. Rocwen did too and realized he had played into the faerie’s hands.

"Go help…" She said, and terribly, horrifically, L'vay grinned from ear to ear.

“Of course, Hoka…” Spiritual cuffs bound his wrists, and a part of them faded away. “I’ll do anything to help.” He put his hand on her back. “To start…how about a little energy to pick you up.” She couldn’t protest, his words were only pretense. The moment he touched her he filled her with so much energy that she could only pass out, her inner world too stimulated to hold it.

But her spell stayed together and he touched it, reshaping it as he saw fit.

“And if she’s safe, you cannot punish me, can you, Osheandre?” L’vay folded walls up around the girl. He smirked. “Now…where to start…” He stared deep into the orb.

Rocwen shot his full presence over, willing to try and control this fae even if it undid him again. But, he never made it.

Something intercepted him, pulling him from the flesh of the domain…

[Chapter 49 ends…]