With difficulty, Lothar swallowed further protest. “Yes, Milady,” he said, bowing his head.
Seeking to diffuse the tension from the uneasy silence that followed, Kyran changed the topic. “Lothar, why did Lera choose Talien to accompany her?”
The protector’s eyes focused on him again. “I’m not sure what you mean, free agent.”
“Talien is not a councillor,” he said. “Why did she not select one of the council? You, for instance?”
“Talien is the dowager’s chosen successor,” Lothar said. “When she passes on, the commander will take over leadership of the rangers and her place on the council.”
Kyran’s brows flew up. “Talien? But isn’t Gayla her granddaughter? I thought—”
“The title isn’t hereditary,” said Lothar shaking his head. “And while the dowager may have a soft spot for the girl, she is still too young and untried.”
“I see,” said Kyran, gazing at the scarred ranger who was whispering something intently to the dowager. What are they talking about?
He had just about made up his mind to join them when he felt a ripple in the ether. “What—?” he exclaimed before stopping short and turning to stare at the clearing’s centre.
The disturbance originated there. Even as he watched, he sensed an enormous flux of essence spill out into the grove. Vaguely, he sensed the weaves being spun from an unimaginable distance away. “The portal,” he breathed, watching in fascination as the fabric of reality was torn open and the ether’s grey nothingness billowed out.
“The gate is open,” said Lothar, gesturing them towards it. “Hurry now. Zarr’s portal master will not be able to keep it open long.” The protector glanced at Mirien. “Stay safe, Milady.”
Mirien inclined her head, then walked forward, following on the heels of Talien and the dowager, who had already disappeared into the billowing clouds of the portal’s depths. Turning to Aiken, Gaesin, and Adra, Kyran bid them farewell. “We will be back soon,” he assured them before following in Mirien’s wake.
You have entered an ether gate cast by an unknown caster (duration: unknown, destination: unknown).
Warning: While in the portal, your being will be in the control of the unknown caster.
As he stepped into the gate, Kyran kept his magical sight extended. His body began to deconstruct the moment he entered the portal, much like it had done when he cast the travel spell. Yet this time the deconstruction was not of his own violation, but at the hands of an outside force.
He did not fight it and let himself be pulled into the ether and along the unknown caster’s constructed ley-line back to Crota. However, he couldn’t help but marvel at the deft assurance with which the spellcaster controlled the weaves.
With a distinct and audible pop, he emerged back into reality, his reconstruction completed with a bewildering speed that left him breathless. That was a spell he knew he had to learn.
The billowing mist disappeared as the portal closed behind him. Straightening from the crouch he had unconsciously fallen into, Kyran looked around. The four travellers from Eldervale were in the citadel’s courtyard, and facing them were two undead, one of whom was Aveyad.
The vampire lord’s eyes widened as he caught sight of Kyran.
“Aveyad,” he greeted, “it’s good—”
“Silence,” said the vampire, raising his hand to cut Kyran off. “Not here. Follow me,” he ordered before setting off into the keep.
Mirien and Talien exchanged looks of confusion before turning towards Lera for guidance. “Don’t just stand there,” said the dowager irritably. “You heard the vampire. Go on, follow him,” she said, gesturing them onwards with her walking staff.
The three moved forward, following in Aveyad’s wake. Kyran in the rear paused when he sensed curious eyes resting on him. He turned around and saw that it was Aveyad’s companion.
Studying the silent figure, Kyran realised it was a female vampire and likely the one who had opened the portal. He bowed in the direction of the portal master. “Thank you, Milady. That was a beautifully cast spell.”
The vampire mage stared at him thoughtfully. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Kyran Seversan,” he replied.
“You are the free agent? The one who has disturbed our slumber?”
Kyran inclined his head. “I am.”
The vampire mage returned his bow. “Then it is a pleasure to meet you, Kyran Seversan. We have stood apart from events in the Game for too long. Aveyad has told me much of your exploits, and already your actions have stirred new life into this dead keep.” She peered off into the distance. “I quite enjoyed foiling those divine fools,” she murmured. “It is a pity Zarr did not let us do more.” She swung back to gaze at him, her smile only slightly predatory. “I look forward to what you do next. Farewell, Kyran,” she said before vanishing, her form turning to smoke before his eyes.
In bemusement, Kyran watched the dissipating smoke for a second. Now who was that? And what did she mean? He would have to ask Aveyad. Shaking his head in confusion, Kyran set aside the vampire’s mysterious words and hurried after his companions.
✽✽✽
It did not take Kyran long to catch up with the others. They had not progressed far, and thanks to his previous explorations of the citadel during his captivity, its layout was well known to him.
It also did not take him long to figure out their intended destination. “We are heading to the throne room,” he said to his companions. His words passed unremarked. In fact, he was not sure of any of three even heard him. Talien, Mirien, and even Lera were staring with wide-eyed wonder at the citadel’s ruined hallways and dusty wreckage. “So much has been destroyed,” whispered Lera, her face stricken by eons-old grief. “I never realised…”
Kyran’s own frowning gaze was fixed on the many undead that marched to and fro. On his previous visit to Crota, the keep had been eerily silent with all its occupants in deep slumber save for Aveyad, Tyeliss, and Zarr. Now, the halls were nearly crowded with undead.
Many of them appeared to be work parties, labouring to remove the wreckage that had remained undisturbed for nearly six hundred years. So this is what the vampire mage meant by ‘breathing new life.’ It seemed the undead were awake again and active.
He wondered what had spurred Zarr to such action. The undead king had struck him as both measured and cautious. Why had he raised the keep’s sleeping undead? Did Zarr anticipate conflict already?
It was a troubling thought. He glanced forward to the silent form of Aveyad. The vampire lord had still not exchanged any further words with him. It was not the welcome Kyran had been expecting. Had he mistaken how matters stood between him and the undead?
I hope I have not erred in returning.
✽✽✽
In another change from his previous visit, the throne room doors were guarded. Standing in front of the adamantium doors was a squad of skeleton champions and Tyeliss.
The death knight’s gaze fixed onto Kyran. “Well, well. Look who has returned,” he said.
“Tyeliss, it’s good to see you again,” said Kyran.
The death knight did not reply. Turning to Aveyad, he said, “He is ready for you.”
Aveyad nodded, then strode into the throne room with the party. Tyeliss followed in their wake as the doors closed behind them.
Zarr was alone inside. Seated on his throne, with his face expressionless, the lich king studied the four travellers while Tyeliss and Aveyad moved to take up position by his side.
Beside him, Kyran felt Talien and Mirien fidget nervously under the lich king’s stare. Lera, whether from age or perhaps long association with the undead, appeared less affected. Kyran, too, bore Zarr’s scrutiny patiently. He knew the lich would not be rushed. Nor would Zarr treat them unfairly.
At least, he didn’t think so.
Finally, Zarr spoke. “Lera Vaynal, and Commander Talien, welcome to Crota.” He swung his gaze towards Mirien. “Lady, forgive me, I do n
ot know your name, but you bear the look of a scion of House Tolyrandil.” Zarr inclined his head. “It is a pleasure to see one of your lineage within these halls again.”
Mirien returned Zarr’s bow. “Thank you, Milord,” she replied, only the slight breathlessness to her words betraying her nerves. “I am Mirien Tolyrandil, granddaughter of Halyifa.”
“Halyifa’s line, of course. Does your granddame still live, daughter of Tolyrandil?”
“Yes, Milord, in an enclave in Auriel’s kingdom.”
“Ah,” said Zarr. Only then did he turn to Kyran. “Free agent,” he said, lips thinning. “I did not expect to see you again so soon. You took a foolish risk in returning. Portals leave traces in the spirit plane that can be sensed. If any of the gods’ eyes were turned upon Crota, they may have detected your presence.”
Kyran shrugged, doing his best to retain his equanimity despite his somewhat frosty reception. For some reason, Zarr, Tyeliss, and even Aveyad seemed to be angry with him. What had he done to earn their ire? “It could not be helped, Zarr. There is much I have to tell you.”
Zarr nodded. “Yes, there is much you have to explain,” said Zarr, sitting back and steepling his fingers in front of him. “I have done my best to give you the benefit of the doubt and not construe your actions as betrayal, but it has been difficult.” He stared at Kyran with eyes that appeared devoid of mercy. “As much as I have tried, I can come up with no plausible explanation for how you opened Durn Duruhl’s gate… other than you are an agent of one of the gods.”
The colour drained from Kyran’s face. So, the undead had been watching him and worried he had betrayed them. He gulped. He was lucky they had not killed him already.
Talien and Lera’s faces blanched as they turned to stare at him. “Is this true?” whispered Lera, staring at him with a stricken expression, while Talien set his hand to sword and backed away.
Only Mirien appeared unperturbed. “No, I do not believe it,” she said.
Kyran shot her a grateful glance. Ignoring the reactions of Kyran’s companions, Zarr continued, “But I have misjudged you once already, Kyran. And for that wrong, I owe you at least the opportunity to defend yourself.” Zarr’s eyes began to smoulder. “But make no mistake, free agent. If your explanation does not satisfy me, you will not leave these halls.”
Kyran attempted a smile, but it came out more a sickly grin. It seemed he was once again on trial. He breathed in deeply. But this time, he had no doubt he could convince the undead of the truth of his words. “I understand, Zarr,” he said. “But before I begin: is this hall shielded?”
Zarr’s eyes glittered. “It is.”
Kyran paused, gathering his thoughts. The moment had finally come to share his secret, and despite his resolve to do just that, it was still difficult to speak to the words. There would be no turning back beyond this point.
He released his breath in a rush, then began. “Do you remember my last day in the citadel?” he asked Zarr. “When Aveyad and Tyeliss were called away and I was left alone?”
Zarr nodded slowly. “I do.”
“Before returning to my cell, I visited Eld’s Jest.”
“Eld’s Jest?” repeated Zarr in confusion.
Kyran nodded. “I solved it.”
“What?!” exclaimed a startled Tyeliss, while Aveyad’s lips pursed in thought.
“What does that ancient puzzle have to do with this?” asked Zarr.
“That chamber’s ward was keyed to the divine spark of whoever approached. The stronger a being’s divine spark, the greater the strength of the barrier preventing entry.”
“And without a divine spark, you were able to pass through unopposed,” said Aveyad, nodding in understanding. “Clever. So Eld fashioned the room for you.”
“Exactly.”
“But what does—?” began Tyeliss.
“The room was not empty,” said Kyran, interrupting the death knight. “Inside was a note from Eld.”
“And what did the note say?” asked Zarr quietly.
“It contained instructions for finding the Thirteenth Well.”
Silence—stark, absolute, and disbelieving—filled the throne room. Mirien and Lera gaped foolishly, while Talien looked perplexed. Aveyad’s eyes widened in shock, and Zarr blinked rapidly, mouth working with forming sounds.
The strangest reaction, however, was Tyeliss’. For some reason, he began to smile, and after a few seconds, while the rest of the room struggled to process Kyran’s revelation, the death knight gave up the fight to contain his mirth, and broke out in gleeful chuckling.
All eyes swung to the death knight. “I’m not lying,” said Kyran.
“Oh, I don’t doubt your words, Kyran,” replied Tyeliss between gasps of laughter. “It’s just that… only our god would conceive a plot that was at one time so dastardly, yet at the same time so appallingly dangerous.” Seemingly unable to retain his balance, the death knight sat down and bent his head over his knees as his chest continued to heave uncontrollably. “Oh, Eld,” Kyran heard him moan.
Kyran scratched his chin, bemused by Tyeliss’s reaction. The sounds coming from the death knight had changed, leaving him to wonder if the vampire was still laughing, or if he’d shifted to crying.
In the wake of Tyeliss’s reaction, the shocked silence dissipated. With a troubled glance at the death knight, Zarr asked, “Do you still have the note?”
Kyran retrieved the carefully folded letter from his inventory and handed it over to Zarr. Unable to disguise the slight tremor in his hands, the lich king reached out and took the note. Zarr scanned through the contents, then handed it over to the waiting Aveyad.
After reading Eld’s message, Aveyad bowed his head, tears glistening on his cheek. Reaching down to the still-seated Tyeliss, he carefully placed the note in the death knight’s hands, who had recovered enough from his bout of hysteria to read its contents.
“Did you find the Well?” asked Zarr, pulling Kyran’s attention back to him.
“I did.”
“In the western Labyrinth?” guessed Aveyad.
Kyran nodded, unsurprised by the vampire lord’s astuteness.
“And you used the Well to open Durn Duruhl’s gate?” asked Zarr.
Kyran nodded again. “I did. The Thirteenth Well has a unique property called hidden veil, that hides both the Well’s presence and the ley lines originating from it. I found the Durn Duruhl settlement stone and claimed the city.”
“This changes everything,” said Zarr, standing abruptly. He met Kyran’s eyes. “I apologise, free agent,” said the lich king. “I have done you a disservice in questioning your honesty.”
Kyran waved aside the lich king’s words. “I understand, Zarr.”
Zarr inclined his head. “With the Thirteenth Well, you will have the power to change the Game forever,” said Zarr, his eyes shining with reborn hope. “It may finally give Myelad’s people the means to oppose the gods, or—”
“Or it may allow the gods to break the balance and finally escape the Game,” rasped Lera.
“Correct, Dowager,” said Zarr, nodding in Lera’s direction. “We must proceed with utmost caution.” He turned back to Kyran. “I deduce from your actions that you already understand this, Kyran.” Zarr glanced between Lera and Kyran. “And I can see from your faces that there is more to the tale you came here to tell. Before we proceed further, though, I must know everything that occurred in your journey through the Labyrinth. Leave nothing out, please.”
Chapter 29
09 Novo 2603 AB
The gods cannot act directly on the Game. This is truism upon which the Game is founded. Yet it is not completely accurate. The Game permits the gods to freely use passive spells such as sense spark. But there are other more meaningful ways the gods can act on the Game, too. In temples, a god’s will can manifest without constraint. And then, of course, there is the most well-known means of divine intervention: aspect summoning. Yet in both of the above instances, a god’s actions a
re limited, both by time and location. There is another less understood, but no less significant way, a god may influence the Game. They are known as Boons. —Dagzid, Brotherhood scholar.
The meeting was adjourned and reconvened a little later in Zarr’s library. Kyran spent hours telling his tale, going over every little detail of his journey through Crotana’s subterranean world and subsequent escape.
His every action was probed by the three undead—and surprisingly the dowager—from his meeting with the jade great bears, to the size, dimension, and defences of White Rock, from his battle with Lesh, to his encounter with the kobolds and the golems in the dwarven armoury.
What Kyran made no mention of was the party’s journey through Celne and his encounter with Cilantria and the necromancers. That was a matter that touched only on the undead, and was one he wanted to broach with Zarr in private.
Lera and Talien shared their own tale, telling of Misteria’s forces—of whom the undead knew—the stolen settlement stone, and the champion’s hunt to reclaim it.
“And what is your plan?” asked Zarr once he had heard out their tales. The four travellers and three undead were seated around the self-same table where Kyran had met the lich king months ago.
Kyran met Zarr’s gaze. “I plan to stop running, defeat Misteria’s champion, and save Eldervale,” he said resolutely.
To Kyran’s left, the dowager released a sigh, and Talien, who had sat throughout the meeting with his hands clenched together in a white-knuckled grip, finally opened them and released some of his tension.
Aveyad leaned forward in his seat and asked intently, “How do you hope to accomplish this?”
Kyran glanced at the vampire lord. “Talien and I have put together a plan. Using my beast bonding skill, I can recruit master-ranked creatures. With a handful of tamed, high-ranked beasts on our side, the balance should tilt in our favour. Defeating the champion with them should be feasible, though likely not easy.”
Aveyad stroked his chin. “The plan has merit,” he allowed. “Rarely, if ever, have beasts been used against champions, and surprise alone might carry the battle for you. But,” the vampire lord said, raising up a cautionary finger, “it will all hinge on the champion’s rank, class, and level. How sure are you that the champion you face is an adept-ranked one?”
Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV) Page 40