“But Tia and the other one will return soon,” Cilantria reminded him. The other spectre bound to Sula’s service—Tulkarmar—was not known to Cilantria. Apparently the Reaper had entered the city with him in tow.
Kyran nodded absently, his attention focused on Sula. What is she doing?
Kyran and Cilantria had agreed there was not enough time to act against Sula before her spectral servants returned. They would have to wait for a better opportunity—or create one.
While Kyran watched, Sula came to a halt outside one of the ‘free’ spirit’s refuge. The necromancer raised her head and seemed to sniff the air. Kyran’s shoulders slumped, realising what Sula was about.
“What is it?” asked Cilantria, noticing his reaction. “What is going on?”
“Sula has found one of hidden spirits,” Kyran replied despondently. There was nothing he could do to save the spirit. Cilantria said nothing, but her silence spoke of her own sorrow and anger.
In the distant corridor, Sula turned in a slow circle before coming to a stop with her gaze fixed on the nook hiding the spirit. The Reaper raised her wand and, almost languidly, slashed it through the air. Stone and aged wood shattered, exposing the trembling wraith within.
The spirit bolted, but did not get far.
Unhurriedly, Sula tracked the wraith’s terrified flight with her wand. Then, with a deft flick of her wrist she sent seeking coils of violet coursing towards her prey.
Hurtling through the air far faster than the spirit could flee, the chains of energy plunged into the wraith’s ethereal form.
The captured spirit screamed.
Even from halfway across the floor, Kyran heard its tortured wail. He swallowed painfully and had to bite back the urge to charge to the wraith’s aid. Doing so would only feed the necromancer more victims. He and Cilantria were not ready to face Sula. Not yet.
Forcing himself to stillness, Kyran watched with unblinking eyes as the frantic captive was drawn back to the waiting predator. The least I can do is bear witness to the spirit’s final moments.
The chains retracted farther, and when the wraith was but a step away from its captor the swirling strands of energy slipped free of the Reaper’s wand and formed a cage of purple around the spirit. Sula stepped up to her captive, and without haste or ceremony leaned forward and drew in a deep breath.
The wraith’s shrieks rose to a bloodcurdling howl, and its struggles grew more frantic. But it was bound fast and there was no escape.
Inch by inch, the spirit’s billowing form lost all shape as it was sucked into the necromancer. In only a matter of seconds, and right before Kyran’s horrified gaze, the spirit was consumed.
Destroyed. Eaten.
Sula threw back her head in ecstasy, seemingly intoxicated by the meal. A second later she lowered her head and sauntered down the corridor again, in search of her next victim.
Kyran swallowed bile. Sula, he vowed, would die.
Game Data
Base skills in air magic, earth magic, and supportive magic have increased to 33. Effective skill: 84.2.
Base skill in beast bonding has increased to 33. Effective skill: 86.5.
Base skills in telepathy and body control have increased to 33. Effective skill: 67.3.
Base skill in light armour has increased to 33. Physical defence: 45.7.
Base skill in psionics has increased to 33. Psicasting cost reduced by 13.5.
Base skill in spellcasting has increased to 25. Spellcasting cost reduced by 12.8.
Remaining: 0 combat SP, 9 combat AP.
Kyran’s Profile (Condensed)
Name: Kyran Seversan.
Combat level: 33. Civilian level: 32. Health: 330.
Attacks: 44.2 (slash), 67.3 (psi wave), 84.2 (shock bolt).
Defences: Physical (45.7), psi (33), spell (33).
Class skills
Beast bonding (86.5), body control (67.3), light armour (39.6), psionics (67.3), telepathy (67.3), air magic (84.2), earth magic (84.2), supportive magic (84.2), spellcasting (63.8), water magic (51), nature lore (33.6).
Other skills (0 combat and 0 civilian SP available)
Fire magic (43.4), longsword (10.4), telekinesis (26.5).
Commander (16.0), governor (14.4), mage lord (48.0), scrying (14.4), travelling (14.4), feudal lord (14.4).
New abilities (9 combat and 4 civilian AP available)
None.
New items
None.
Chapter 12
02 Novo 2603 AB
The Vow of Undying Loyalty and the Vow of Binding are inviolable. While a mortal remains in the Game, and of Myelad, their Vows cannot be broken. It is only after death and a return to the Wheel that the Vows are rescinded. —Jostfyler Graldvir, Game scholar.
It was only a little later that Sula’s spectral servants returned. Tracking them on his player’s map, Kyran watched them rejoin their master. After a short delay, which he assumed was the spectres reporting their findings, the trio advanced to the large hall at the centre of the floor. Once there, they stopped.
When Sula and her guards failed to stir from the chamber, Kyran asked, “What was on this floor?”
“The fifteenth level contained the audience chamber and the receiving rooms of the high priestess and her senior priests,” Cilantria replied.
“Sula is in the audience chamber,” he said, guessing that was what the large central room had to be. “What do you think she is doing there?”
“I don’t know.”
Kyran pursed his lips. None of the surviving free spirits were near the chamber. He decided not to expend further essence by scrying out the room first. “Let’s go find out,” he said. Before they finalised their assault, he would have to get close enough to Sula to cast insight anyway, and with their three foes motionless it was as good a time as any to try sneaking nearer.
Concealed by blend, Kyran padded up the corridor leading to the audience hall. As he neared the chamber, he noticed that its double doors lay open and that the room was dimly illuminated from within.
He paused. The light from the chamber seemed to emanate from the room’s far end, where Sula and the two spectres were. There were plenty of shadows around the door, though, so he assumed he’d have no trouble slipping in.
His discussions with Cilantria had revealed that a spectre’s vision was as limited as any mortals. As long as Kyran remained concealed, he would be hidden from their sight. As for Sula, he still had no idea what she was capable of.
But that was why he was here.
Taking a deep breath, he ducked through the doors and into the pools of darkness along the room’s perimeter. There was no reaction from the room’s occupants. With his back pressed against the wall, Kyran tiptoed along its length until he had an unimpeded view of the room’s far end.
A small fire blazed there, and seated at it was Sula. On either side of her floated the spectres, likely keeping guard. Laid out next to the Reaper was a bedroll, a knapsack, and array of cooking utensils. He had found the necromancer’s camp.
Much to Kyran’s bemusement, he saw that Sula was eating. He had not expected to catch the necromancer at anything so… mundane.
At the sight of Sula, Cilantria hissed and her misty form began to churn vigorously.
“Easy,” he murmured. Reaching out, he cast insight on the necromancer before his spectral-companion grew too agitated.
Name: Sula. Race: Drow (elf).
Level: 65. Health: 680.
Stamina: 570. Will: 640. Essence: 2030*.
Attack: 401* (death).
Defences: Physical (61), psi (61), spell (86).
Class: Necromancer (adept).
Traits and abilities:
Unholy consumption: Can consume dead spirits to permanently increase the caster’s spark of spirit by 1% (consumed spirits = 103).
Unholy binding: Can bind spirits in service to the caster (bound spirits = 2).
Death’s friend: Immune to attacks from the undead.
&nb
sp; Defenceless against divine: +75% holy damage received.
Raise dead: Can compel the dead to serve the caster.
Pain aura: Strength of the caster’s death magic is boosted by the suffering of those nearby.
Description:
Adept necromancers have nearly conquered death in all its forms. As an adept, the practitioner can no longer be harmed by death magic. And while this comes at a cost of increased susceptibility to the divine, this vulnerability is outweighed by the adept’s ability to consume and bind spirits.
Consumed spirits are destroyed and permanently boost the necromancer’s spark of spirit, making the practitioner frightfully powerful, whereas bound spirits are enslaved to the necromancer’s will.
Kyran deflated as he studied the Reaper’s Game profile. The necromancer’s essence pool was over two thousand. That meant her magic spark had to be over two-hundred percent.
Defeating Sula was impossible… unless. Unless, he caught her unprepared. But how likely is that? he wondered, studying the two hulking spectres. Maybe if he tried striking her down while she slept? But no, her spirit-slaves would surely be keeping close guard on her. How else? He bit his lip, thinking furiously.
“What is it?” hissed Cilantria. “What do you see?”
“Sula is level sixty-five,” he said. “But—”
“Only level sixty-five!” Cilantria exclaimed gleefully. “You can take her! I am sure of it! It will be difficult, but I have seen what you can do.”
Kyran sighed. “I don’t think I can.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her tone puzzled. “If I draw away Tia and the other one, you—”
“No, Cilantria,” he broke in. “Her essence pool is over two thousand.”
“Ah,” said the spectre, seeming to understand as well as Kyran did what that meant. “And her attack?”
“Four hundred,” he replied grimly. Given the power Sula had accumulated, it would take the necromancer less than a handful of attacks to overcome him.
“So many spirits consumed,” murmured Cilantria. She sighed heavily. “You are right. You can’t defeat her.”
He fell silent for a moment. “I will not give up, Cilantria. I promise. More than just my companion’s life hangs in the balance, your sister’s spirit does, too. We will find a way to save them both,” he vowed.
“No, Bearer,” said Cilantria sorrowfully. “We won’t.”
“We will think of something,” he insisted. “Even if a straight-on assault is doomed to fail, there are other things we can try. An ambush, maybe. While she sleeps.”
“There isn’t time for that, Kyran,” Cilantria said with unwonted gentleness. “You companion is already perilously close to death. She will not last the night.”
Kyran knew the spectre was right, but he couldn’t just give up. There has to be a way, he thought furiously.
“We cannot save my sister,” said Cilantria abruptly. “But perhaps we can still save your friend.”
“What?” asked Kyran, wrenching his attention back to Cilantria.
“You don’t need to kill Sula to save the elven woman,” the spectre reminded him. “You only need to retrieve the Reaper’s healing wand. There is a chance—a good one, even—that the wand is in her knapsack. If I show myself, Sula is sure to follow. She will not be able to resist the chance to bind me. That will leave the camp unguarded. You—”
“No,” Kyran cut in, realising what the spectre suggested. Trapped within the Tower, there was little chance Cilantria would escape Sula’s grasp.
“It is the only way,” said the spectre.
“No,” repeated Kyran. “We’ll discuss it further, but not here.” Carefully, he slid out of the room and back into the side passage that had sheltered them earlier.
✽✽✽
Kyran was out of ideas.
He had come up with a host of plans, all of which Cilantria ripped to shreds. Each one, admittedly, was as impractical as a frontal assault, but no matter how hard Kyran wracked his mind, he could not come up with a means to overcome the sheer power Sula wielded—at least not in the few hours Mirien had remaining.
He was painfully aware of the passing time. A day ago, twenty-fours seemed ample time; now, not so much. He bowed his head, deep in thought, while on the far side of the pantry Cilantria floated freely. With the floor’s free spirits in hiding and Sula still occupied, Kyran had deemed it safe for himself to go uncloaked by Cilantria’s glamour.
“Are you determined to stay this path?” asked Cilantria suddenly. “To try saving both Tia and your companion?”
“I am,” said Kyran, not bothering to look up. He had lost count of the number of times the spectre had already asked him that question already or some variation of it.
“There might be a way,” she said.
It took Kyran a second to process what Cilantria had said. His head whipped up to stare at the spectre. “What!” he exclaimed. “What way? And why didn’t you say so earlier?”
The spectre flickered in and out of sight. With her rage cooled and uncertainty marring her thoughts, she was less able to hold to her insubstantial form. “It is dangerous,” she warned, “and you will not like it.”
“Tell me,” he demanded.
The spectre did not respond right away. “Do you trust me?” she asked eventually.
Kyran’s brow’s lowered, not sure where Cilantria was going with this. “I do,” he replied, and he realised that despite only being acquainted for a day, he did.
“I can kill Sula.” Cilantria’s form rippled in seeming uncertainty. “No, that’s not quite right.” She spun about in the air. “If we do this, you must know the whole truth,” she murmured before coming to a rest facing Kyran again. “I am not sure if I can kill her,” the spectre amended, “but there is at least a chance I can.”
Kyran scratched at his chin. “How? You said she is immune to death magic.”
“Death magic will not harm her,” agreed Cilantria. “The spell, host rider, that I used to create the glamour earlier has a darker variant to it. It is an ability all spectres have, but it is fraught with danger for both spectre and host.”
Kyan frowned. “What ability?”
Cilantria ignored his interruption. “The ability is a single-use one, and without the host’s consent, the chance of failure is high. If the spell does not succeed, the spectre is exorcised from the physical plane and returned to the Wheel.”
“What ability?” he repeated.
Cilantria lowered her gaze to meet Kyran’s. “Possession.”
Kyran stared at the spectre. “Possession,” he echoed numbly. He lowered his head into his hands, grappling with what the spectre suggested.
“If we do this,” Cilantria said, her tone sombre, “I will inhabit your body, fully and completely. Your spirit will be banished to the ether, and you will have no control. None.” She paused. “Normally, a dispossessed spirit is pulled to the Wheel immediately, but I can keep you tethered to Myelad long enough for me to kill Sula and return your body as soon as the deed is done.”
Kyran blinked, processing Cilantria’s words despite his nearly debilitating dread at the idea. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Even if your spirit is housed in my body, how does that change matters?”
“The undead cannot channel divine magic. The living can. In your body, I will be alive once again.”
Kyran opened his mouth then closed it again. “You were a player,” he said eventually, part question, part statement.
“I was a champion, Kyran,” Cilantria replied quietly. “Paladin Cilantria Dechalan, commander in the Southern Host and Defender of Celne.”
“Your sister, she was Eld’s champion, too?” he guessed.
“She was,” Cilantria confirmed. “Tia was the city’s High Priestess.”
Kyran stared at the spectre. He had suspected something of the kind, but to hear Cilantria’s confirmation was still shocking. “What will I have to do?” he asked finally.
“Not
hing but give your consent when I attempt the possession. If you resist, I will likely fail.”
Kyran nodded. He didn’t have to think long on the matter. He had meant what he said earlier. He did trust Cilantria. And if this was the only way they could save both Mirien and Tiara, he would not hesitate. “Let’s do it, then.”
His quick agreement startled Cilantria. “Take the time to think it through, Kyran,” she cautioned. “This is dangerous. Be certain you want to do this.”
Kyran shook his head. “I’m sure.” And he was. He had been pondering how to defeat Sula for the last hour, and he knew already there was no other way.
“Don’t put your faith in me, Kyran,” Cilantria pleaded, seemingly more unsettled by Kyran’s acquiescence than he was by the notion of possession. “Even housed in your body, I will still be cut off from many of the abilities I possessed in my former life. I may not be able to kill Sula.”
Even though she was the one that had broached the idea of possession, Kyran realised Cilantria herself was uncertain and reluctant to make the attempt. Oddly, that fuelled his own certainty.
“Tell me one thing, Cilantria,” he said. “Will you be able to cure Mirien with your divine magic?”
The spectre shook her head. “Cure disease is not a spell of much use on the battlefield. Regretfully, it was never a spell I chose to learn.”
“Then this course is our only option.” He closed his eyes. “I am ready. Do it.”
He heard Cilantria sigh, but he stubbornly kept his eyes closed and waited.
“As you wish, then, Bearer,” she said softly. A moment later, he sensed the spectre float closer and coldness suffuse him as she enshrouded him within her billowing form.
Warning: The spectre Cilantria is attempting to possess you! 75% chance to resist.
Possessed, you will lose control of your body, and your spirit will be unmoored. Death and a return to the Wheel will follow shortly thereafter.
Possession is an ability unique to spectres and demons. During possession the host’s spirit is forcibly expelled by the hostile entity. The relationship between the host and foreign spirit is parasitic one and can only be severed by the possessing spirit. Housed in a body, a spectre or demon has full access to its spirit and mind abilities, but is limited by the host’s physical abilities.
Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV) Page 18