Years Since Creation: 3993
Location: Significance Plane, Elemental System, Eno
Crouched behind a crate of iron masks, Darvon had half of his mind focused on keeping his Image unmoving in the Significance Realm, and the other on keeping an eye on Saria who was a dozen feet away with her eyes screwed shut and mouth tensed as she did the same. They had spent a few minutes teaching her the basic of the local plane’s stealth, and she had caught on quickly enough, but that didn’t eliminate the need for practice which her flickering Image clearly reflected. The attack needed to begin soon, or there would be surprise element left.
With a quick breath Darvon lifted his head a bare inch from the crate and stared at Enchanter paragon weaving complex spells of mind-altering power a mere dozen meters away. It was a beautiful sight in reality and even grander in the Significance Realm where the Image of a thousand blood-soaked cherry trees continuously releasing pink petals influenced the flickering Images below. It was a soulful act, filled with the air of a practiced artist fully dedicated to their horrid craft.
It was also clearly distracting the man, which was enough for Darvon to stand with Vigil wrapped around his eyes and fire both shoulders with a dull thump that went unheard in the plaza.
The first shot out a metal needle holding a viscous green liquid which screamed with an Impact of poison and death towards the man’s neck, while the second let loose a homing navy blue aimed straight at the Paragons head. They both hit.
The needle plunged and released its toxins in the same moment that the homing bolt tore a hole through the stumbling Paragons jaw. The spellcasting instantly collapsed as the slaver let out a wet gurgle while staring at his surroundings in a panic as he tried to ineffectually plug the necrotized wound which was leaking pus.
Seeing his mission was done Darvon went to crouch again only to stumble forward into the Paragons sight as a wave of blood exploded from a house nearby, which was quickly followed by a pained scream and a flash of black light. At the same moment in the field below noises of battle began to sound as Saria tore through the enemies below, yet Darvon could focus on none of that as his body was completely unresponsive as the collapsed slaver held a stream of pink light connecting them.
“You did this!” A voice echoed in Darvon’s mind as he tried his best to block out the pink light with Vigil only to find that the elemental could do nothing as the pink light had already established a bridge straight into his mind. “I will make you suffer a thousand deaths!”
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The world shattered around Darvon, his body collapsing into his mind, where the tapestry representing all his billions of different colored memories was being crushed by a single massive bloody cherry tree which released a stream of petals filled with memories to slam against his mind.
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Ibep sobbed into his red scaled off hand as he used the other to crack the whip into his screaming sons blood splattered back. He wanted to look away but couldn’t disobey the orders given. He could only watch as his boy’s innocence was shattered due to the never-ending torture his father put him through. He could only watch and apologize for something he had never wanted.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Ibep whispered to himself, wanting to escape into his mind but unable to. “It’s dada’s fault. It’s dada’s fault. It’s dada’s fault.”
“Silence.” The Masked One barked, their blue elemental floating around their head like a halo. The father went to open his mouth to plead for it all to stop but couldn’t. The bond holding him was too strong. The only thing he could do was continue whipping his little boy.
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“Get into the furnace” The masked man whispered into Anu’s mind, compelling her shivering metal body to squeeze headfirst into the casket filled with oil in front of her.
“Look at me.” The voice said, forcing her quivery body to turn to face the slaver who proceeded to toss a single orange crystal at her. “Light the oil.”
Anu’s mind stuttered for a second, the insane order finally shattering the voices hold on her enough to attempt to climb out of the casket. Yet as she went to do so a pink light stilled her movements and pushed her increasingly desperate self-back in.
“Please, I will pay you anything if you let me go! I’ll give you my heart blade! I’ll tell you all my secrets.” Anu said as her body acted without her consent to lift shaking metal hand and grab the crystal next to her. “Please! Please! Please! Just let me go! Don’t do this!”
Yet the figure remained silent to her pleas, and only blankly stared as the pink energy forced her hand to crush the crystal down into essence and use her small bit of Elemental knowledge to shoot out a single spark into the oil around her.
A wave of flame turned her body red. Years of slow growth vanished within seconds as her own body pooled around her in a silver puddle. Anu wanted to cry, scream, wail, but all she could manage to choke out was more begging which the masked figure ignored.
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Eozin cried tears of ink as the masked figure forced him to pour acid on the last tattoo on his yellow oath skin. Drop after drop fell onto the coiling dragons that represented his oath to his partner, each one singeing away at his bond until it disappeared in a bust that shook a sob out of him. He had lost his sole bond to his husband, and his last hope for escape.
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Dozens of lives flashed through Darvon’s mind, his mind slipping further with every transfer, the gasp for air between each growing thinner as his sanity fled him. His thoughts dulled, his Image grew unstable, and even the faint bond he had felt with Saria since he had summoned her slipped from his mind.
All that was left in his mind was pain, despair, and submission.
Stuck in that eternal gloom of no thoughts, Darvon consciousness could do nothing but grasp onto the fragments of life that would flash by in order to feel something, yet each taste only led him to fade faster.
Eons passed in this unending cycle, until even the fragments stopped appearing. All that was left was the silence of his mind, where no thoughts formed, and no feelings shone.
Darvon had died.
Luckily he had prepared for this.
A flash of purple appeared in the gloomy mental sky, illuminating the dark wreck that was his mental space. The tapestry that was his life was shattered, the colors representing his emotions gone, the tether connecting him to his body dull. In that endless gloom the only thing that glowed was the purple light, and soon even that disappeared as the light reabsorbed its emanations and condensed into its true form. A purple coin with a single teardrop filled with incomprehensible emotion.
The coin drifted for a moment as if uncertain of its direction, before gaining purpose as it dove into the core memory of his being, his birth. The memory glowed a deep purple as it was tainted with the sorrow of losing his first home, the glow raising it from the depths to hang center stage in the dark mind. It was soon joined by another, the memory of losing his first pet, and then another; the memory of moving and losing friends, then another; the memory of his parents’ death. The coin dove into millions of memories within moments, and soon enough the whole sky was a deep purple and Darvon could feel again. He could feel the depths of sorrow binding his reality, and with that core emotion his mind restarted.
Billions of memories rose into the sky above, filling it with millions of colors. Orange for his first alchemy project, red for his first kiss, grey for admiring a lagoon, sanguine for his first kill, blue for him ordering a servant, green for him seeing Qrumin.
The tapestry of his life had been regained, and the thread binding his consciousness was taught once more.
Darvon opened his eyes.
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A blasting headache filled Darvon as he stared in confusion at the two faces hovering inches from his own. One was staring at him with tears freely falling from his eyes, while the other analyzing him with golden eyes which seemed to devour his own in their twisting vastness.
“His nanites aren’t reporting anything, they seem confused as to why he flatlined so suddenly.” Saria said with a frown as she stared at Maroc. “I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“WHY?!” Maroc screamed as he slammed his hand against the ground hard enough to shatter the stone under it. “What the fuck I was thinking?”
“That I could do my job.” Darvon coughed out. “Which I’m pretty sure I did by the way.”
The two froze at that, before slowly turning to face him like he was a dead man.
“Hey, no need to look at me like that. It was just a bit of psychic damage, I prepared a countermeasure that would deal with Qrumin’s meddling, forget a mere paragons last ditch attack.” Darvon said and went to speak again only to be squeezed into a death grip of a hug by Maroc and Saria who had practically teleported to his side. “Guys… I think you’re crushing my ribs.”
A wave of laughter escaped Maroc, who pulled back with Saria to stand a few feet away as Darvon slowly stood up while patting his pockets in search of some water to wet his throat. When he didn’t find any, he mentally poked at Vigil to see that the guy was fine before freezing and turning to the two with a twinkle in his eye.
“I don’t suppose you guys kept the command elementals alive?” Darvon asked his mind already distracted by the thought of wielding one in battle. “I got two Elemental Binders planned which have their names on it. One for me and one for Saria.”
“How are you acting so normal after going through such a massive amount of trauma?!” Saria demanded as a relieved laugh escaped Maroc.
“Well, it would be a pretty bad defense if it left me incapacitated afterwards, wouldn’t it?” Darvon asked while trying to exit the little alley he had collapsed in, only to be blocked by Saria.
“Seriously, what just happened to you? You were completely unresponsive for a solid hour, with the nanites not reporting a single thing.” Saria demanded to which Darvon finally looked at her with some surprise.
“The nanites didn’t say anything?” Darvon asked as he passed a hand through his dirt covered hair in thought. “I guess that does make sense, they are only affecting the physical realm right now. They would need to be boosted before they can alter the metaphysical mind in any real capacity.”
“So, they provide no defense?” Saria asked with some worry. “I thought you said having a strange mind helps block intrusions like that.”
“It does, but only in the processing front, and only a little at that.” Darvon said as he rubbed at his eyes. “It’s a complex topic which would be better explained through a textbook or real-life examples. For now, let’s focus on what’s really important. Loot.”
With that Darvon sidestepped Saria and looked out into the courtyard to see that the whole place was a corpse filled mess. There was the expected paragon’s body which Darvon saw was left untouched. A group of five flowing command elementals floating above their previous owners’ bodies. The corpses of Ibep and his son–.
At that final though Darvon froze for a second as his mind processed the foreign names, his nanites helpfully pulling up the tainted memory which had now been carved into his brain. Luckily for him the emotions attached had mostly dulled due to the coin not infusing them, and the fragment itself not having had enough time to properly attach to his mental framework. Still the small bit of feeling that was leftover hurt Darvon enough for his eyes to fill with tears.
“What happened to the slaves?” Darvon asked with a choked voice as he glanced around at the rest of the mud courtyard to see that there were piles of bodies dotting the ground, all of them either Gos or Zhra.
“The fleshy ones died when the final masked doyen commanded them to kill themselves in a last fit of spite.” Saria said with a bitter filled voice, before pointing him to the side where a group of Golems and Horus were hugging each other and crying. “The non-fleshy ones also tried but couldn’t do it quick enough before I put on a mask and ordered them to stop.”
Darvon stared at the group and saw that each face was familiar. There was Ana with her silver body half melted, Eozin with his oath skin covered in chemical burns, Yer with both of her legs torn off, along with at least a dozen more.
“What will we do with them?”
“We will leave them here with some food and contact the Legion to organize a rescue when we reach safety.” Maroc said as he strode up to stand next to them. “We can’t afford to take them to wherever the teleporter leads.”
“So it works?” Darvon asked as he tore his eyes away from the group to look at the teleporter building where saw a figure glowing with spatial essence was tied up with blood chains in front of it. “And with a teleporter as well? Nice.”
“Yes, though I worry that the other site will be compromised if we don’t leave soon.” Maroc said as he whistled a tune which prompted the bird elemental carrying a stable Pyra to float out from a small hole next to the slave quarters “The leader escaped through the array before I could kill her.”
“It’s probably best that I don’t spend more time around the ex-slaves anyway.” Darvon said as he walked towards the elementals floating above the masked corpses. “Though we will be looting this place for all it’s worth before we leave.”
“What does you wanting to stay away from them have anything to do with us leaving?” Saria asked with some anger in her tone.
“Because the Paragon bombarded my mind with memories of them torturing themselves and giving up on all life.” Darvon said while pulling out Vigil to float alongside him in a flash of purple. “While the memories will disappear in time if left alone, they might stay if I interact with their source.”
“Oh.” Saria said with an embarrassed look on her face.
“Yes. Oh.” Darvon said before turning to Maroc who was checking on Pyra. “Hey Maroc, do you have any containers for elementals on you?”
“No, but we can use Vigil and Vortex to wrap around a few of them.” Maroc said as he let Vortex out of his body to form into a coffin like shape next to him.
“Perfect.” Darvon said as ordered Vigil to form into a similar coffin before turning back to Saria, who was still looking a little embarrassed, and handed her Busari’s box. “How about you go around and gather the rest of the loot you can find while we deal with these guys, should serve as good training for your third eye. Focus on gathering command essence, as well as any interesting notes they have.”
“Sure.” Saria said as she grabbed the box before looking up to him with a tense face. “I’m sorry I insinuated you didn’t care about the slaves. That was rude, and uncalled for.”
“It’s alright, I can see how I currently give off that vibe.” Darvon said before turning back to the flowing command elementals who had turned into halo like rings. “Now let’s loot this place.”
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After half an hour of looting, the group got together to discuss their findings.
Darvon managed to capture one command elemental with Vigil. Maroc had wrangled two and stabilized Pyra with a health potion. Saria had tracked down a dozen treaties on slave production, a couple impact filled knickknacks, some manifestos, and a treasure trove of command essence. A thousand solid, a hundred plasma, and even a single neutronium level.
It was an amazing haul and would be more than enough to pay for the materials for both Darvon and Saria to get a new Elemental Binder, as well as a few of the more insane implants Darvon had been outlining. Plus now that Pyra was stable they could finally slow down their brutal pace, and not have to do something as insane as forcing their way into a cartels base.
“Talk. Where do these plates lead?” Maroc demanded as he held the space doyen up with a dozen bloody chains, startling Darvon out of his daydream. “And don’t lie, I will know if you do.”
Darvon was fairly certain that Maroc had no skill which would help with that, but he wasn’t dumb enough to contradict him. Instead, he simply took the time to admire the criminal teleporter hall, which was a ten-meter-tall room filled with a single crude teleportation array which had a pile of five plates leaning to one side, and a set of four black boxes which Darvon had already emptied of spatial essence. A simple, efficient set up.
“If I tell you the Boss will kill me.” He stammered out. “She don’t let traitors live.”
“Don’t worry about your ‘boss’, she’s not here.” Maroc said as he constricted the bloody chains holding the hostage. “I am.”
“Don’t make Maroc use Abyssal on you man, it’s not a pretty sight.” Darvon spoke up while purposefully ignoring the sight of the Horus chatting with Saria a couple feet away. “It’s a brutal way to go.”
“Please just let me go. I have a family.”
“You lost any right to sympathy when you joined a slaving outfit. Now tell me where the plates lead, or I will turn you into a slobbering Jurin.” Maroc said and had the chains go from being made out of blood to turning into abyssal tentacles which screamed in pain.
“Ok, ok! I’ll tell you!” The Doyen screeched. “Number one leads to a base near Fear, two to a hideout in Woe, three to a base in Sanguine, four to a hideout in Joy, and five to a base in Lust.”
Maroc nodded and pulled the tentacles back to leave the man screaming on the floor before waving the lizard like Horus inside.
“Honored Scout Maroc, thank you for saving us.” Eozin said with a small bow. “How can I be of service?”
“I need you to bind this man to a promise of teleportation service and servility towards you once we are gone.” Maroc explained as he pulled out a small bracelet filled with binding energy which Darvon knew was taken from the boss’s office. “Use this.”
“Yes sir.” The Horus answered and floated forward to hover next to the collapsed figure. “Stand.”
Before Eozin could say anything else, Darvon escaped outside to avoid further contact with the man and joined Saria who was looking out at the courtyard filled with slaves with a lost look in her eye.
“Brutal sight isn’t it?” Darvon said, as he stared at the rotted form of the paragon he had killed.
“Yeah it’s horrible.”
“See anything like it in your own plane?”
“Nothing like this. There was never any torture on this scale.” Saria answered, her knife twirling in her hand. “In Sanity the main goal of the elite was to keep people ignorant and completely under the thumb of the god’s that ran everything. People were treated like cattle, whose only use was to serve as the occasional birthers of their rulers.”
“Nothing like here then.” Darvon said as looked at the mess that was the crafting station, smashed crates full of masks scattered around a collapsed doyen’s body. “No impact in keeping people dull and uninspired.”
“You know at first I thought Impact a marvelous thing.” Saria said. “A source of power which forces people to be as vibrant as they can in order to be able to stand out in society. Bakers obsess over their food, crafters over their creations, politicians over their people. It seemed so perfect.”
“Perfection is the illusion cursed upon us by infinity.” Darvon quoted as he turned to face Saria whose eyes were filled with tears. “That is the first lesson Zhaber’s learn when taught about exploring other planes. To never pursue the unattainable and to instead focus on what you have.”
“A useful lesson.” Saria said, wiping away tears as she turned at the beckoning of Maroc from inside. “Who said it?”
“Harvon Zhaber, the Binder of Qrumin and the first Mythos of the Significance plane.”