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Keturah

In the end, perhaps it was stupid, but vanity won out. No matter how useful The Horned Lord might be, Jasper just didn’t want to be stuck with both red skin and horns. He’d only need a pitchfork, spiked tail, and goatee to complete the ensemble. With that fashion choice emphatically rejected, he selected The Broken Chain. As he closed the menu, satisfied with his decisions, another box popped up before him.

Reward Box

For assisting in the defeat of the Queen of Als̆arratu, you have received a title and (1) upgrade skill point.

Title: Champion of Sapiya. For participating in the defense of Gis̆-Izum and Hargish, the bearer receives a 10% charisma when interacting with residents of the province of Sapiya, and a 5% charisma boost when interacting with Imperial nobles and officials.

He shrugged his shoulders as he read through the title. His charisma was fairly low, so the boost didn’t really do much, but free stat points were never a bad thing. The upgrade point, on the other hand, was a fantastic surprise.

The real problem was that he had no idea what to spend it on. Jasper was up to nine spells now, and he had only been able to upgrade three of them so far. He used both Purge and Seraph Burst regularly, so upgrading them made sense, but his eyes wandered over to the new inquisitor spells.

He stroked his chin distractedly, running his fingers through the thick stubble. Damn, I need a shave, he realized. Dismissing the idle thought, he considered upgrading Scourge of Despair. The spell had saved his bacon in the battle against the Queen’s army, and it also filled a gap in his skills, providing him with a reliable close-range spell that was the perfect counterpart to the ranged Sacred Star.

But, in the end, he decided to stick with his old favorite. From the beginning, Sacred Star had been most his reliable spell, but he had started to feel like it was a little lackluster. Even though the spell attacked five targets, the explosions were too small and localized to do serious crowd control, and he had found himself forced to run away with Seraph Burst more times than he cared to admit. Praying that the upgrade would fix the problem, he selected Sacred Star.

To his surprise, the spell was not merely upgraded; instead, he was offered a choice. Please select your path (warning: future upgrades will follow the chosen path).

There were three options to choose from, and he quickly scanned through them.

Starfire - Sends five small explosive orbs with medium tracking abilities. If a foe is slain by the spell, there is a 30% chance that a wave of fire will explode from their body. Cost: 300 essence.

Nova - Sends five medium explosive orbs with minor tracking abilities. Cost: 300 essence.

Shooting Star - Sends ten small explosive orbs with medium tracking abilities. There is a 10% chance for each orb to ricochet, hitting an additional target. Cost: 300

It seemed the system had been listening to him vetch: he wanted all of them. Nova was the safest choice, pretty much a straight upgrade on Sacred Star II, just with bigger explosions. But he felt like the others perhaps had more potential, even though both of their special abilities only had a percentage-based chance.

If he got lucky, the explosive bursts from Starfire had the potential to cause absolute chaos in enemy lines. However, if he got unlucky, well, the spell was otherwise identical to his current spell.

Shooting Star seemed to split the difference nicely. It would, at a minimum, hit double the amount of targets, plus the chance to ricochet. He wondered what an upgrade of Shooting Star would look like. Would it hit 15 or 20 targets? If he followed that path he might just end up with the equivalent of a magical machine gun with homing capabilities. The image of him mowing down ten of the queen’s wights at a time, devastating her ranks, sealed the decision for him, as he selected Shooting Star.

He took one last look over his stats.

Jasper Welles

Exp: 2875/3000

Health 1340

Stamina 2660

Essence 3640

Heritage(s)

Greater Djinn

Acolyte of the Secret Flame

Level: 71

Level up: x0

Hand of Kas̆dael

Level: 1

Titles

The Blood Runs True

Betrothed of Kas̆dael

Survivor

Champion of Sappiya

Stats

Racial Traits

Class Abilities

Class Abilities

Weapon Skills

Strength 30

Scion of Flames

Shooting Star

Scales of Justice

Improvised Weaponry I

Endurance 47

Uplifted

Purge

Scourge of Despair

Sling V

Vision 20

The Broken Shackle

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Eternal Night II

Hand of Judgment

Glaive VI

Inspiration 73

Locked

Fiery Shackles II

Dagger III

Willpower 73

Locked

Seraph Burst

Charisma 30

Locked

Heart Stopper (Undead)

He was pleased to release he finally had enough essence to cast Hand of Judgment, although he’d only be able to cast a few spells after that. Resolving to check it out soon, he turned to Kas̆dael.

She patted the bench, and he sat down beside her. “So, why am I going to the Harei Miqlat?”

She smiled. “Partially, you’re going there for yourself. You are not of this world, yet its blood flows in your veins. You need to meet the Djinn and learn something about the people and culture you now belong to. Right now, you are too insignificant to attract much attention, but as you grow more powerful, there will be those who notice that you are not truly of the Djinn, unless you learn their ways.”

“But there is also something I require of you. A darkness stirs within those mountains, its form hidden from my sight.” A sheet of her paper manifested in her hand and she handed it to him. “While the Djinn are primarily devotees of Shamsha, their creator, there has always been a small cult among them that honors me under the name of Nahremah, the Lady of Ruin.”

Jasper interrupted. “So are they the type of followers that think you want to end the world?”

She shook her head. “Despite the name, no. They merely worship me as a goddess of war. In all honesty, the cult of Nahremah was little more than a devoted dueling club, far too concerned with getting their next fighting-fix to plan any world-ending plots.”

Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “But in the last few decades, something within the group has changed. They still speak in my name, but their prayers rarely reach me, and their teachings have grown increasingly darker. I believe that the followers of one of the dark deities may have infiltrated them, and are using my name as a cover for whatever vile plot they are concocting.”

She leaned forward, her pale blue eyes blazing with fury. “And that is entirely unacceptable. Those blasphemers must be crushed.” As she spoke, the dice she gripped in her hand exploded in a shower of dust. Dusting herself off, Kas̆dael continued.

“When you reach the Harei Miqlat, I want you to join the cult of Nahremah. I do not want you to reveal your status as my hand, so they will no doubt force you to undergo an initiation test of some sort."

A wry grin crossed her lips. "Probably a duel, knowing them. Once you’ve successfully infiltrated the group, I want you to investigate the leaders I listed on that paper. At least one of them, perhaps more, must be followers of the dark god.”

Jasper nodded slowly as he read through the short list of five targets. “Okay. Where should I start?”

Kas̆dael smiled. “That, at least, is easy enough. The chief temple of Nahremah lies on the western shores of Lake Yarhab, just a few miles outside the walls of the province’s capital, S̆addānu. I’m sure they will be more than happy to accept a new battle junkie.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Do be careful, Jasper of Earth. Cultists of a dark god, no matter which one they serve, are dangerous opponents who will happily feast on your soul. I would prefer not to lose my new Hand on his first mission.” She hesitated. “My vision of the future is imperfect, but I believe you will encounter much danger there. When the time comes, do not be afraid to summon the Ophan.”

After he had committed the names of the suspects to memory, Jasper reluctantly accepted her embrace. Opening his eyes with a gasp, his heart aching with the phantom pain, he sighed as stared into the fire. Why couldn’t I get a nice, easy mission like, kill 10 rats in the tavern basement? Why does everything in this gods-blighted world want to eat my soul?

Despite his grumbling, as he wrote the names down in his notebook, Jasper couldn’t help but feel a touch of excitement. A new province, a new quest, and a class evolution? There was a lot to look forward to. His eyes fell on Ihra’s tent. The sun shone through the thin canvas walls, illuminating her form. She was waving her arms around wildly, no doubt practicing with her new rune manual, and a smile broke across his lips. Yes, there was a lot to look forward to.

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Epilogue

Keturah stared at her father with mounting anger. She ignored the vein throbbing in her head as she scanned the letter her mother had sent her again, before tossing it away with a dramatic yell. She paced back and forth across her room, while her father sat on the edge of her bed, clearly nervous. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it,” she finally spat. “How could you?”

Kabāni raised his hands placatingly. “You know your mother, Keturah. What would you have me do?”

“Toss her in chains? Drag her back here and chain her to my bed, so she can’t go off and do something so stupid!” Her voice grew increasingly high-pitched as she vented, stomping her foot ineffectually against the cold marble floor. Despite himself, he cracked a smile. “I don’t think you would enjoy sharing your bed with your mother."

Keturah rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She stopped pacing, and for a moment, he caught a glimpse of the fear and pain lurking behind her anger. “You could have at least tried to stop her. Damn the nobles. Let them complain.” She turned on him, the anger overtaking her face again. “But, let’s be honest. It’s more convenient for her to disappear. Your little dalliance with her was an embarrassment to your precious family line, and so am I. I’m sure your wife will be thrilled.”

Kabāni started to object, but she cut him off. Stalking over to the door, she flung it open. “Just leave.”

Kabāni rose and walked over to her. He tried to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze, but she shook him off. Smiling sadly, he left, pausing at the door. “Despite what you think, Keturah, none of this is what I wanted. It’s a lesson you have yet to learn: being a ruler is rarely about what you want.” She slammed the door behind him as he left.

Keturah paced back and forth in her room, her fists tightly clenched, her fingernails digging deep gouges into her skin as anger and tears fought for control. “How could she do this? How could she just leave me, again.” In a fit of rage, she kicked over the chair of her desk, the wooden arm cracking as it smashed into the hard marble. Regret washed over her as she saw the chair’s damage. Damn it. As she bent down to pick it up, her eyes landed on the crumpled letter.

Reluctantly, she picked it up. Sitting down at her desk, she smoothed it, resolved to finally finish her mother’s letter. It was hard to force herself to read the words.

My dearest Keturah,

I know that I promised you that you could join me once you reached the end of your studies at your father’s court. I have always wished for you to be at my side, and have long had rooms prepared for you in Gis̆-Izum. Unfortunately, my time in Sappiya has come to an end.

You have no doubt heard already of the events at Als̆arratu and of your grandmother’s rampage through our land. While I am sure the accounts you have heard have been exaggerated, the simple truth remains that my attempt to fix the ritual that doomed my people failed, and, as a result, many have died. And thus, I am forced to leave these lands.

The edekkû have shown me the path I must follow, a path that leads beyond the river. Although it may be a land of much sorrow and death for our people, I believe that my mission has a real chance of success. Together with the Children of St. Martin, we will establish a secure realm, beyond the reach of the Sidhe and their hunters.

I wish that you could join me, my daughter, and I pray Selene that that day will come and soon, but for now, it is best if you stay with your father in Yas̆peh. The capital will not fall easily, even if the province is eventually invaded as I fear. For the time, you will be safe there, which is my greatest wish for you.

However, because I know that you are your mother’s daughter, I doubt that you will listen to my words. If you choose to leave the capital, there is another path you may take. I have met a most curious pair: a Corsyth born of the elves, who was cursed as I am, known as Ihra Akāmu, and a Djinn not born of this world, on whose shoulder rests the heavy hand of Kas̆dael, who goes by the name Jasper Welles. (He clearly does not understand the concept of hiding his identity; if you meet him, you should urge him to take on a proper Corsythian name).

They have already departed along the road to the Harei Miqlat, their course set by the goddess herself. Though the future can never be glimpsed with certainty, the edekkû predict that my path shall cross with theirs again. Perhaps I shall find you with them.

If you choose to follow their steps into the sacred mountains, my name will get you past the border. There are many there who owe me favors, and you can invoke them as you see fit to secure your position as, whether I find success or death, I will not return from the lands of the West. If you join them, treat them well. Both bear the mantle of greatness on their shoulders. You have few allies in your father’s court - a few friends might be good for you.

I pray that I will see you again, that the edekkû have shown me a true path, and not the road to death. But if I should find myself on the shores of oblivion, know that I love you, my daughter. Stay in your father’s court, or follow the two nascent kakkabū, but do not attempt to trace my path.

The ink smeared on the page as her tears rained down, and she pushed the letter aside, not wanting to get it any wetter. Burying her face in her hands, she wept freely.