Years since Creation: 3993
Location: Significance Plane, Elemental System, Lament
Darvon sacrificed the pendant steeped in grief, its image of a dead parent in the significance realm vanishing as it turned into a stream of unstable purple essence above hovering above his palm. Reaching out with his Image he tempered the energy until it collapsed into a crystal-like structure before turning with a strained face to the silver coin inlaid with a tear in front of him. This would be his third attempt in the last week, and he meant to succeed this time. Too many crests had been wasted for him to fail here.
Crushing the crystal he turned its form back into energy, except this time in its stable form, and then began to carefully weave the essence into a complex braid that perfectly matched the structure of the silver coin inlaid with a tear, and then started burning the energy while carefully pushing it into the coin. Seconds turned into minutes, as anxious sweat poured down his face in his care to fill the coin in its entirety, each inch packed with the perfect amount of energy to amplify the next. The coin soon filled with meaning until the only part left was the tear itself. At this point the energy from the pendant was empty, and Darvon tamped down his excitement from finally reaching the breaking point and turned to the table next to him in the empty room.
He had rented out the lab for a whole year when he arrived at Lament, burning through a mountain of crests in doing so, but he found it well worth it. The silver walls were plain, the steel desks were stable, and potent objects from grieving families lined the walls. It perfectly matched the requirements for Darvon’s creation, which was good as he was about to wield a dangerous amount of energy.
On the table was a crumpled single letter labeled ‘Killed in Action’, which he slowly grabbed as he sunk into the Significance Realm where his Image of a sobbing child covered in technological implants allowed him to see that the object before him was radiating with Paragon level grief essence. Usually, this level of significance in an object would make it impossible for him to manipulate, but due to its power stemming from his own grief he had enough of a bond to reach out and sacrifice it in a single crunch.
A dense ball of purple plasma now hovered in front of Darvon, which he was careful to leave wild in order to main the bond, though doing so made his mind quickly begin rebelling from the insane focus required. Reacting quickly, he reached over to the table next to him, grabbed a white flask and downed the potion within. Within moments his mind cleared and razor down to a point which meant he could begin the real alchemy.
Grasping the energy before him with his will he carefully shaped it into a replica of the tear on the coin and began burning it, altering the material lattice in the coin he had created a month ago. Purple lights started flashing, and he could feel an intense resistance from the surrounding energy which he tamped down with his Image. After that all that was left was him and the half-filled tear, with him slowly pouring more energy into the object. Hours passed in this narrow focus, and strong as his bond to the letter was, half the energy was still wasted, but the other half was enough to fill the tear in its entirety. The Grief Transformer was done.
The instant the last of the essence filled the tear Darvon felt a shift in his Image. The sobbing child clutching the bolt started mutating, its eyes radiating purple light, with each of its implants now filled with an eerie energy. He had become a Doyen of Supernatural Alteration and was halfway to Paragon.
“YES!” Darvon screamed out in joy, tears falling down his face. Each time he sunk himself into manipulating such a dense energy he was always filled with complex emotions, but nothing could overcome his pure joy at succeeding at his project. Years of planning all for this, and now all that was left was to test it.
“Okay, let’s do this Vigil. Focus up, since this could be the start of something amazing.” Darvon muttered to the grief elemental floating in the Elemental Binder implant in his spine. “All we need to do is put it into the Emotional Transformer and, if my calculations are right, I should feel a wave of artificial grief hit me. One perfectly attuned to me through my bond to the object. I just need you to absorb it if I get overwhelmed, got it?”
A wave of purple energy streamed out of the mithril vertebra hosting Vigil, sending a feeling of support from the barely aware elemental. While it had no clear understanding of what was said, it would follow the intent of the order regardless. Darvon picked up the glowing purple coin, which was releasing faint sobbing sounds and with some hesitation reached towards his neck where a small flexible plastic hatch, the same grey color as his skin, was and opened it to show a coin sized hole. Darvon carefully pushed in the coin and promptly collapsed to the floor with a gut-wrenching sob.
Wave upon wave of grief assaulted his consciousness, each stronger than the last. The emotion pulled up memories which Darvon had held back for years. He saw the moment Maroc arrived carrying the letter of his parents’ death. He reexperienced the discovery of his Grandparents going mad and killing themselves at the invader’s doorstep. He saw the month after his parents’ death when he slit his wrists after Maroc had left him alone for a week. Crashing waves of emotion formed in his mind, inundating him. It was only when Vigil reached up and started absorbing the emotion that Darvon was able to calm down from the brutal emotional roller-coaster he went through.
He slowly picked himself up from the floor, grasping onto the bench to pull himself up. Still reeling from the experience, Darvon desperately pulled open the hatch of his Emotional Transformer in his neck and with a flex of his neck muscle sent the coin flying out to the floor. Instantly his emotions calmed down, and Darvon could think again. He turned back to the potion desk and dug out a purple grief suppressant from a pile of a dozen and chugged. His mind instantly stabilized, and within moments he whooped out in joy.
“It worked, it fucking worked!” Darvon yelled, his eyes red. Even his third orange eye was filled with tears as it sent him images of the energy within the room. “Vigil we fucking did it! I can finally move on to the next step and get rid of this unending pain.”
Darvon spent a couple minutes just letting himself feel happy, enjoying the feeling of ascending to a ranking younger than most anyone he could think of. Most twenty-year olds would be in the academy still working on completing their first branch, while he already completed two and was more than powerful enough to be a researcher in his own right. That thought felt good after months of moping about in a town called Lament, but it wasn’t strong enough to overwhelm his bum’s soreness from sitting on a steel floor for twenty minutes. It was time to go.
He reached over to the coin and with a piece of cloths deposited in an inner pocket of his robes and then started packing every tool and implement of his into a spatially expanded chest he kept near the entrance. After a bare few minutes, the lab was empty, and he was happily walking out with his toolbox hovering along behind him.
Walking down the corridors of the lab he sent a few peaks into the few open rooms to see they were set up in much the same way his were, except with different subjects. Some held struggling grief elementals which were being poked at, others were filled with dozens of people sobbing as they each clutched onto a ring, and one even had a roaring lion hollow which was sending out waves of purple light into the corridor. Darvon made sure to step around that one, and hurried up a little when he heard the fight inside growing louder.
Stepping out of the lab filled corridor he quickly checked out at the desk manned by a bored Zhra, getting a few credits for the reimbursed months left on his contract and stepped outside. He was greeted by a purple sky, and the lovely morose town he had been living in for the last couple years.
Lament was a small township composed of a dozen haphazardly placed buildings made out of sandstone bricks surrounded by a stone wall covered in a shield enchantment. It stood in the middle of a vast arid desert, with burning heat crushing down on everyone within it. Water and food had to be imported in, and with no natural resource apart from grief elementals the town was constantly struggling to survive. Their sole source of income were people like Darvon who were working on projects related to grief and the selling of the occasional wandering elemental. It was brutal place to live in, which was only alleviated by the fact that he lived in a beautiful villa style apartment which was reserved for visiting Zhaber’s who got to stay at a heavily discounted price. It also had his favorite thing, magical temperature control which blasted him with a wave of chilly wind as he walked up the stair and into his flat on the third floor.
His apartment was a drab place, entirely focused on utility, with only a few small trinkets for Darvon to gather some free Impact scattered throughout to liven the place. Luckily the emptiness also sped up his packing, for withing fifteen minutes he was walking out with a slightly heavier chest which now had a letter glued onto its side. He checked out at the front desk and left the building towards his real destination: the ‘Teleportation Complex’.
The building was made of the same white brick as the rest of the town, with the only difference being the massive copper sign with its name engraved on it hanging above the door which Darvon entered. Once inside he walked over to the counter and after waving a badge with the letter Z engraved on it and requesting their services, he was hurried over to the teleportation circle where a man was lounging on a comfy futon. Darvon sunk slightly into the significance realm and was able to see a star filled sky where the man was, each star radiating Space essence. He was the teleporter than.
“Hello. I hear you are scheduling two teleports, one material and the other personal.” The man said with a polite smile as he stood up after being whispered by Darvon’s guide. “Zhaber’s all get a free planetary teleport a day, along with a free system teleport a month, both of which you haven’t claimed. You may leave the chest to the side as it will be teleported right after you by another member in order to lessen strain and step right onto the circle once I place the anchor down.”
Darvon calmly nodded and passed his chest over to the man next to him, watching as the teleporter grabbed a piece of bulbous hide from an organized pile the side of the room and placed it in the center of the engraved ritual circle which glowed black upon touching it.
Sinking into the SR Darvon’s third eye saw how the piece of hide was radiating peak Paragon level space essence, which likely meant it came from Firan, the home world of peak spatial creatures on the plane. For a small town like Lament to have a pile of them for System teleport would usually be impossible if not for there being a recent research boom on using emotions to attack due to it being one of the few certain methods to attack the invaders. The Zhaber bureaucracy was nothing if not efficient, and with the streams of Paragons coming into the town they made sure to give them as easy an access to the plane as they could.
“Please step inside, and don’t resist at all.” The man said as he crushed a couple black crystals to pour their energy into the circle. “I recommend focusing on your Image as you do so. Makes it less nauseous.”
Grateful for his advice Darvon bowed a little to the man and then quickly stepped onto the uneven hid while centering himself on his image. The sobbing child, which had grown much more powerful after his successful creation, drifted along the mass of significance coming from the objects all around it, heavy with impact. Darvon could even sense that the faint mist that represented his External Impact floating around his Image had grown stronger; he would have to refine that later.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Before he could further focus on that thought, the teleporters Image of a star filled sky wrap around his form, and with a flash of intent sacrificed his body, leaving only his Image behind. His consciousness still attached to the Image Darvon watched as the teleporter carefully attached a strand of him to the anchor, which formed a wormhole that sucked him in and teleported to a new room where the Image of a dozen Doyen’s in the form of a Brob bowing to a star wrapped around his form and condensed him back into reality.
Darvon collapsed to the floor with an instinctive gag which he quickly got under control as he felt the eyes of a dozen rat like Brob staring at him from outside the circle he was laying in. With some wheeziness he stood up and took in the craggy room of the teleportation circle, the chittering Brob, and the open door leading outside. Seemed he had arrived at his destination.
“Thank you for the teleport.” Darvon politely said to the Brob, only to wince as they all stared at him in confusion. He may have forgotten most all of them didn’t speak his language. “Sorry, about that. Forgot you couldn’t speak the language… Which I’m still speaking in now… I think I’ll just head out actually.”
Darvon practically ran out of the room in his attempt to escape his poor people skills and found himself standing on a steel catwalk which held hundreds of different citizens walking in and out of the Brob’s warren with bags clutched to their persons, with loud voices echoing all throughout the cave. It was an overwhelming sight, which only grew worse when Darvon joined the stream of people to check out of the teleportation hall and finally exit. Though the sight outside was well worth it.
Ruthod was a majestic sight, with the city being full of natural trees which perfectly merged together with the buildings who themselves were made out of alchemically altered plants. Every cloud was shaped into a mystical creature, the moon had craters in the faint shape of the Zhaber heraldry, and even the sun itself let out the perfect amount of heat. The whole continent was a wonderous mix of artificial and natural and was the culmination of a centuries of Zhaber effort. The only part left untouched were the hundreds of thousands of miles of tunnels that the Brob used as a home. The whole continent itself had been stolen by Busari when he acquired the Ritual law for their plane, one of the grandest feats in all of history, and if everything went according to plan today Darvon would get the step up needed to match it.
Darvon stepped onto the street, dodging the crowds filled with every species on the plane, and instead waved down a flying carpet being ran by a half sentient puppet from the sky. He got on the carpet, gave it directions, and leaned back to enjoy the view of the city. The puppet directed them to join an aerial highway which conveniently avoided blocking the view of the sky for any tourists, while still allowing drivers to admire their surroundings.
The bustle of the city brought a smile to Darvon’s face, as it reminded him of his Academy days, though Aso was nowhere near as beautiful as the Zhaber capital. He loved the feeling of flying, especially over a city named the pearl of the plane. Yet even as he floated above the most beautiful city in the plane, all Darvon could think about were schematics for an implant that would make use of the powers of his new branch.
After an hour of leisurely floating and getting passed by streaks of light and flying creatures Darvon finally reached his destination. The edge of the continent. Hopping off the carpet he landed next to the wooden handrail which flowed along the entire side of the continent. He then looked down into the center of the plane, where Archeus Nyx, the Black Hole resided.
Nyx looked like a massive corona of light formed into a faint outline of a sphere which devoured everything near it. The corona constantly shifted and moved, with every twitch filled with enough energy to destroy a planet a dozen times over. It was a beautiful thing, amongst the most wonderous sight in all planes. Yet for all that it would shatter the perspective of anyone who looked at it, it wasn’t what Darvon focused on. Instead, he stared at a black spot a couple million kilometers away. Sybil, the prison of the Old One Qrumin. The place where Darvon would be reborn.
Darvon spent a whole hour just staring at the beautiful sight before him, preparing himself for what he was about to do. He knew this could shatter his psyche, and maybe even turn him incontinent but it had reigned over his head long enough. He needed to ascend. With that thought he took a last look and then turned towards the building a couple hundred meters away.
It was a massive structure made of deep black and brown wood intertwined with dozens of meter thick emerald-green vines, which grew out of Ruthod into the space outside and formed into a building the size of a Lament. The whole place was set up as a series of dozens of different ritual rooms which only a Zhaber could enter. It was the Hall of Ascension and was where they were given access to the two things that let them conquer the plane. An Extranar Familiar and contact with Qrumin the chained Old One.
Taking a breath Darvon approached the place with confidence, his stride full of passion and certainty, his eyes glowing with intellect which would shatter the plane in his full–
“Darvon!” a voice barked out from above him, and Maroc appeared in a flash of blood light. His sanguine hair messy over his white skin and red eyes, panting as he flew over to Darvon. As he approached, Vortex coiled out of his skin into the shape of a red crystalline armor which prompted Vigil to pop out of Darvon’s back in the shape of a shining purple gate full of runes. Before the two men could do anything the elementals slammed into each other in a burst of light, Vortex instantly overwhelming Vigil but not destroying him in any way. Elementals played weird.
“Uncle Maroc what are you doing here?” Darvon said exasperated.
“Did you really think I would let you complete your ascension without anyone to accompany you?” Maroc asked with a sad look. “I missed Pyra’s years ago, and I’m not missing yours. Especially after you’ve hyped it up for the last couple years.”
“I’m sorry Uncle, I just needed to get this done as soon as I became Doyen of Supernatural Alteration.” Darvon said, wincing internally at the white lie. He may have obsessed for years on his project, but if he told Maroc his plan than it was likely he would forcibly stop Darvon from entering. Maroc had lost enough family to poor decisions that there was no way he would let Darvon risk his sanity on some power trip.
“You actually succeeded!” Maroc exclaimed, his third eye glowing. “With that under your belt you can likely apply to delve into some alchemy Paths, maybe even Fina’s if you’re lucky.”
“Thank you.” Darvon smiled at the compliment. “I still plan to at least reach Paragon on my own before I use anyone else’s path.”
Maroc opened his mouth to give him the same hashed out lecture he gave every time the topic was brought up, but Darvon quickly waved him down and started walking towards the Hall of Ascension.
“Look we don’t need to go over the same argument, maybe I’ll even change my mind once I go through ascension. Who knows if the power I get matches Fina’s I’ll probably have to delve into her path.”
Maroc grunted in agreement, and with a wave pulled Vortex back into his body, Darvon doing the same with an annoyed Vigil.
“Have you given any thought on what familiar you’ll ask for?” Maroc asked.
“I’m going to ask for an intellectual being, hopefully one with some artificial boost that I can benefit from.”
“That’s smart, though it likely won’t keep you safe in any adventure you go on.” Maroc answered, quickly going into lecture mode. “Being smart may be useful for research, but I would recommend expanding perception, it can help with understanding subtle differences in materials and in combating enemies…”
Darvon tuned his uncle out as they approached the Ascension Hall which was guarded by a pair of slobbering beasts covered in green scales and some armored Zhaber. He went to pull out his badge, but before he could do anything they both bowed to Maroc while muttering thanks for your service and let them through. Inside there was another counter with a secretary which forced him to go through the process of signing up for ascension and then had him wait over in the lobby nearby.
Entering the room Darvon was amazed to see that it shone with an artificial sky and had a huge fountain depicting a black archway flowing over a dozen warriors tall enough to reach the ceiling. The whole floor was covered in grass, with a couple meat puppets carrying refreshments to the various benches dotting the garden. Darvon was amazed at the wealth he was seeing, but quickly got himself back into gear once he saw that there were others in the lobby, a group of four fancily dressed Zhra.
They each wore robes covered in glyphs and had hands adorned with jewelry which glowed with Impact to Darvon’s third eye. A pair of pretty blue haired twins and a bulky brown-haired bootlicker hovered around one of the most beautiful women Darvon had ever seen, and that was saying something. Being pretty was an easy thing, with Alchemy allowing for any alteration one could want. Darvon himself was a product of genetic engineering, his pale grey skin and deep orange eyes passed down from his parents Scout modifications. Yet that didn’t hold a candle to the level of detail that went into this woman’s appearance. Her void black hair absorbed all light, focusing all attention onto her brown skin and green eyes. Her every move radiated grace and health, and Darvon could see dozens of small alterations made to suck in any viewers attention. She radiated an arrogance and confidence which was only cultivated in the heirs meant to inherit a plane. And she was staring at him. He went to look away but as he met her glowing eyes, he found his consciousness dimming, their flashing glow sending him deeper into a trance, forcing out memories from his early life. He saw the image of his childhood home, him creating his first project, his paren–.
Maroc’s hand slammed down on his shoulder, waking him up from his trance. Darvon glanced over to see a deep frown marring his features, his sanguine eyes flashing ominously with light towards the group who were quickly turning to face them.
“An Enchanter, one quite strong for someone so young.” Maroc growled out. “Nowhere near the level of your mother but be wary regardless, her alterations are likely augmenting her abilities.”
Darvon shuddered at the feeling of his will being torn from him, and with a faint gust he pulled Vigil out of his Elemental Binder to flow up and around his brain to present a buffer between him and the world. Turning back to the group he saw that the girl was still staring at him with a mysterious smile on her face, while completely ignoring her group. In return Darvon threw out a rude gesture before turning back to Maroc who was looking at his actions with a smile.
"Do you know who those pricks are?” Darvon asked annoyed.
“No but looking at their clothes they are probably a bunch of rich snobs who bought their way to powerful paths.” Maroc said loud enough to be overheard, before dragging Darvon over to a bench nearby. “Don’t worry about them, just focus on the ascension coming up.”
Darvon nodded and after taking a breath he refocused his mind and considered every aspect of his plan while rubbing at the coin in his pocket. Its very touch sent a small wave of grief into his heart, reminding him of what this would all be for. Darvon closed his eyes and sunk into his Image and started refining the Exterior Impact around it, turning the mist into a floating lights that attached to the sobbing child, ever so slightly deepening its weight. A half hour passed like that, and only when a bell rang out in the lobby did he wake from his meditation.
Opening his eyes, Darvon saw a deeply powerful Paragon level figure approach from the outside. He was wearing black armor filled with engravings which sent him flickering forward a half step for every one he took. With a blurred second he reached the center of the lobby and turned to face the two groups who were next to him.
“I am Guardian Ilios, and I shall be in charge of taking you to Sybil today.” He said with a no-nonsense tone. “I will only be taking Darvon Lunuen and Eswin Dula, everyone else will have to wait here.”
The group around the girl went to complain but stopped at the glare the man sent them.
“Does that include me?” Maroc said with a frown, and Darvon could faintly feel a wave of pressure form behind him. He was certain that Vortex had peeked over their heads.
Guardian Ilios turned to Maroc and slammed his fist into his chest and gave a deep bow.
“I must apologize honorary scout Maroc, but the rules don’t permit anyone else to go.” He said his voice filled with genuine respect.
Maroc grimaced at that and after waving for Ilios to stand up, he turned to Darvon and gripped his shoulder with a little too much strength.
“I know you have grand plans Darvon, and I respect that.” Maroc said and took a breath. “I just want you to live through them. So be smart about what you do there.”
Darvon nodded, and after a brief hug he walked over to Ilios along with Eswin, making sure to channel Vigil into his eyes as he neared her. The Guardian stood up, and with a last respectful bow towards Maroc, waved the two to follow after him.
“We will begin with the sacrifice in Sybil, and then summon your familiar here. Each of you has paid for the highest possible Space expert to provide the service, so we will attempt to contact Busari if possible, but otherwise you will be stuck with me.”
Darvon nodded along, grimacing at the reminder of the price he had paid. It had cost him the rest of his parent’s inheritance, though feeling the weight of power from the man walking next to him, it should be well worth it.
After taking them out of the lobby through a back door they were forced to go through a dozens of security scanners, each checking that they didn’t have any Old One objects which could cause any undue damage. Darvon was quick to notice that Eswin was treated a lot better than he was, with every guard doing the smallest amount possible and sometimes outright allowing her to pass with no check. Clearly her name held much weight.
Soon enough they were cleared to reach the ritual room, where Ilios himself pulled out a piece of Vorin hide from a safe room, whose Impact to Darvon’s eyes formed into Neutronium, it’s essence actively spreading its influence into its surroundings. That hide by itself was likely worth more than the entirety of Lament.
Ilios placed the hide in a nearby engraved circle and then reached out with his Image, a solar gauntlet engraved with runes, and expertly crushed down Darvon and Eswin’s material essence, teleporting them to Sybil.