by Tim Johnson
The sabretooth licked its flanks.
I’m not sure what my uncle was expecting, but he’s got more than he’s bargained for.
They followed Alexia out of the huge room into a corridor.
The first person they saw was a servant of some sort, wearing a white cloak. He saw Alexia and reacted with a whoop of joy. “You made it!” the man had wispy blonde-gray hair and a goatee. He quickly pressed his hand into Christian’s. “An honor to meet you, Christian.”
He spared a concerned glance over at the witch and their sabretooth. “Come this way all of you, the Artificer is in session.”
Christian followed. The ground shifted again underneath him.
The sabretooth growled at the movement.
Alexia looked back. “It’s okay, come on.”
They traversed through the fortress; whereas Sark’s was full of darkness this one was filled with light and high cresting corridors.
They arrived at a pair of high double doors. The sigil of a crossed ax and sword was carved into the pale wood.
Two guards pulled the doors open, allowing Christian a full view of hall. Massive stone arches framed the room and the windows were so huge they seemed to cascade down like waterfalls.
In the center of the hall was a circular table that could seat a hundred. Clustered at one end of the table sat several powerful looking lords and ladies in plated armor, mages cloaks and archer’s cowls.
That’s when Christian saw him. His uncle was a similar build to Christian. Tall and long-limbed, their shared Asian-Caucasian ancestry giving them the same dark eyes and hair.
Uncle James looked very different to the man Christian had seen growing up. Christian had a flash to when they last met: a pen in his breast pocket, a pudgy gut but the same intense look in his eye when he was explaining the latest developments in technology.
But this was his uncle alright.
His uncle had grown a beard, wore plated armor and had a huge ax strapped to his back. The sinews of muscle in his neck suggested any office pudge was gone.
Just look at him now, Christian thought. A warrior like me.
His uncle strode to meet them, first embracing Alexia in a hug before turning to Christian. “You made it.”
Their armor clanked together as they hugged.
Christian could smell the polish of his uncle’s armor and could see the new lines that traced across his uncle’s face. Gray streaked through his uncle’s dark beard and hair. He broke away, gripping Christian by the shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to bring you to Valeria like this. But it’s important.”
“I know,” Christian said.
“And who are these?” James said, looking over the witch and the huge sabretooth.
Christian turned back to see the witch shy away from his uncle’s gaze and drop her chin, her face hidden under her matted black hair.
“They are our friends. My team. We wouldn’t be here without them.”
A strange look crossed his uncle’s face as he looked at the witch. “Elronda?”
James carefully pushed the witch’s hair behind her face, a flicker of horror in his eyes as he saw her nose holes. It told Christian everything he needed to know. The witch, or Elronda as she was called, was close to him. Very close.
His uncle gently embraced her, his chin resting on her matted hair. The witch clung to his armor and let out a sob. His uncle barely managed to say, “What did they do to you?”
Alexia and Christian shared a glance. Alexia didn’t know.
His uncle held the witch’s face in both his large hands. “Sark had you? This whole time? I thought you were dead.”
“Not quite dead,” the witch said. “But close.”
The twin doors burst open again at the rear of the room.
“Alexia!” A man called out her name as he jogged into the room. He was tall, slim built like a ballet dancer with copper skin and dark hair swept back. He was wearing a deep blue velvet doublet with a curved sword at his side.
He wrapped Alexia in an embrace and kissed her on the mouth.
What the hell?
Christian reeled back from the shock, even the sabretooth snarled.
Dancer-boy and Alexia parted lips.
Alexia looked away, avoiding Christian’s eyes.
The whole building shifted to the side again, prompting another growl from the sabretooth. Christian looked around.
What is going on?
“You must be Christian,” the man said. “I’m glad Alexia managed to rescue you. I hope, given the risk we took to get you here, you won’t disappoint us.”
The man’s name etched out: Lord Alishahi, level 22.
His uncle clapped his hands together. “All of you, welcome. You made it. I’m sure you’re all exhausted. We will get you cleaned up and your quarters ready. Gerald, Alan, come here please.” Two servants stepped forward. “Please look after our guests. Take Elronda to our healer, have baths drawn and fresh clothes laid out. Find somewhere… suitable for the sabretooth.”
“Of course,” Gerald said. “Elronda, please come with me.”
Elronda nodded and followed the servant. The sabretooth didn’t budge.
Christian stared at Alexia and Lord Alishahi. They were hand-in-hand. Alexia avoided his gaze.
I can’t believe this.
“We will reconvene in an hour,” his uncle continued. “I know we have much to catch up on. Christian if you could come with me, I want to show you something.”
Christian followed his uncle to a door beside one of the huge windows that lined the wall. Beyond, all he could see was sky.
They stepped out onto a veranda, a paved balcony that wrapped the atrium. The wind whipped, cold and crisp and it tugged at Christian’s armor. There were some benches set around a geometrical design in the stone. Stone statues of large griffins were placed along the edge, facing out.
Christian walked to the edge, keeping his hands on the shoulder two of the stone beasts and looked out at the sheer drop.
They were impossibly high, and the land below was moving.
We’re in a flying fortress. He realized.
His uncle regarded him with a warm smile, his hand resting on the wing of the griffin statue; he had a matching ring like Christian’s. The ring had the sigil of the Artificer engraved upon it. “I’ve dreamed about showing you this for years. This exact moment. I knew you would make it Christian. If anyone could make it, it would be you.”
“What is this?” Christian said.
We are on the flying fortress of Alegria. It was a myth of Valeria, lost for a thousand years. I completed the quest to find it and now it’s ours.”
His uncle patted the wing of the griffin. “We are still trying to unlock the mysteries of this place. I desperately need someone capable that I can trust completely. That’s why I had to bring you here.”
“Sark has raised up the Fire Demon Arnook to lead the assault on Earth.”
“Arnook... yes.” James sighed. “My spies saw the procession head into the demon gates and leave with an army.” His uncle’s hands balled into fists as he surveyed the horizon, his face locked into a dark look. “Sark will pay for what he’s done to Elronda. I swear to the gods, he’ll pay.”
The gods? My uncle has been here too long.
James took a deep breath. “But we have much to do first. So much to do before we can take the fight to him and Arnook.” He turned to Christian and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Christian, I never said it before, but there was more I should have done for your mother. More I should have done for you. I let you both down and I’ve never forgiven myself.”
Christian nodded. He looked away, letting his vision fall. They passed over clouds. Far below he saw lakes and a deer weave its way through the marsh land.
When he returned his gaze to his uncle, there was pain in his uncle’s eyes.
“She wasn’t made for that world,” Christian said. “It would have always happened eventually. If it wasn’t the drink it
would have been the drugs or something else. It’s okay.” It was strange talking about his mother, casting her up from the dead in his memories. No one in his life knew her or ever asked after her. He was so different back then, just a boy, not the man he was now. Now he could have carried her, cared for her, but back then he was too young.
He thought of his own regrets – his soldiers dying in the snow; the people of the Altai dying wrapped up in each other’s arms; seeing Leon Podsworth beheaded in the mud.
All on my shoulders. Yeah, we both have regrets.
But then, he thought of his vision. His ice children rising up and ripping Sark and Arnook apart. It gave him hope, that something new could be carved from all the cold pain that was pent-up inside.
He thought of Sulfur’s head spinning in the snow.
He held out his palm and let tendrils of ice circulate. He could feel the moisture in the clouds and the water that inhabited his uncle’s body. There was power inside of his uncle. He felt like he may be able to draw on it. Or even rip it out of him.
“We have some allies,” his uncle continued. “Sark isn’t without enemies; they call him the Demon Lord. I am doing my best to rally as many as I can to our cause against him. You will meet all of them soon enough, but each have their own agenda.”
Politics and squabbling lords won’t win us this war. We need an edge; we need something more.
He turned then to face his uncle. “We need an army.”
“We do,” his uncle said. “It has begun, and we can talk more on this later. Let me show you your quarters.”
32
Christian stretched out in his new quarters and tried to relax. His rooms had high-ceilings and were spacious, with a bed thick with furs, a desk chest, and even a grand mirror. One wall was made from glass windows and a door opened to his own patio.
Despite being free, he still felt trapped. One part of him wanted to go and see Alexia. The other didn’t. What would he even say? He didn’t have any claim on her.
And she would likely be with her dancer boyfriend. So, Alexia had a man this whole time? A Valerian lord at that.
He and Alexia had their share of intimate moments, but she had never spoken of dancer-boy. How hadn’t he come up?
He thought of them in their underclothes. Just before they had killed each other.
‘A heart given willingly…’ but no heart had shown up in my inventory.
He pushed those thoughts away and turned his mind to their plans. Now he was finally reunited with his uncle, there was so much he needed to learn. What resources did his uncle have? Who were his allies? How many men did they have? His mind buzzed with questions. Too many for him to relax.
He pulled up his status screen.
Christian Lawson
Level 13
Build: KnightAffinity: Ice
Health: 320/320Mana: 500/500
XP: 5975/6300
Stats:
Points to Distribute: 10
Strength 37 – Stamina 16 – Intelligence 30 – Dexterity 12 – Willpower 25
Ashana [0/3 Heart Stones]: +15 Strength +10 Intelligence +5 Willpower
He had ten points to distribute, but he wasn’t sure exactly where to put them. He decided think on it for a while.
He reviewed his new skill: Ice Weapons.
Ice Weapons
Your weapon becomes encased in ice increasing damage by 25% and a granting you a 10% chance of freezing your enemy solid.
Duration: 30 seconds
Cooldown: 2 mins
He equipped Ashana and held the blade out in front of him. Then he activated the skill. Ice exploded from the handle, wrapping the sword’s length, twisting along the blade, thickening it. The ice covered the blade, yet it stayed razor sharp. The whole thing emitted ice vapor; almost looked like it was smoking hot. Despite being longer and larger, it was still just as light, and he could easily wield it one-handed. He practiced a swing.
The sword would be a perfect match for his Ice Armor.
He imagined what witty quip Alexia would have for him when he showed her. She’ll call me Frosty the Snow Man. The image of her kissing Lord Alishahi popped back into his mind. I shouldn’t think of her like that anymore.
He held the blade in front of him. Turning it made it shimmer like the surface of a frozen lake at dawn. Just then, in the blade, he caught a movement of some kind.
What the hell?
He peered closer at the blade’s surface.
Blue eyes cut through the ice, staring at him.
Christian jumped back as the ability timed out, and the ice folded in on itself, disappearing as fast as it came. He was left with Ashana in his palm again.
Tarquen?
“I’ll be with you in the ice,” that’s what she had said.
Christian turned his attention to the large mirror that stood at one side of the wall. He held out his hand and channeled his ice mana towards it. Ice danced from his palm, covering the mirror completely and freezing its surface.
His own reflection was opaque in front of it. He stared into the surface of the ice. For a moment he saw nothing, then he saw Tarquen’s long figure stalk towards him, getting clearer and clearer as she did.
Tarquen stood on the other side of the mirror.
“You,” Tarquen said. “You are already stronger. I can feel your power grow. The ice is drawn towards you.”
“How is this possible?” Christian asked.
“I am one with the ice, and you are one with me. Where there is ice, there is me and where there is you, I can see,”
Tarquen crouched low and peered around Christian’s room from the other side of the mirror. The blue scales that covered her body seemed to shine a little brighter as if they reflected the light.
“Fine quarters,” Tarquen said. “You are a prisoner no more.”
“No, we got away from Sark.”
“And the big man?”
“I killed him.” Christian had forgotten he had stored Sulfur’s decapitated head in his Inventory. He equipped it and held Sulfur’s head in front of the mirror by a fistful of blonde hair. “As promised.”
That’s when the impossible happened. Tarquen stooped, folding her long frame and stepped through the mirror into Christian’s room. The Ice Demon towered over him.
“Yes, you have,” she hissed.
Christian paced back. The Ice Demon could travel through ice?
Tarquen reached down and took Sulfur’s head by his long golden hair. She held it up, extending her arm as she surveyed it in the light. Sulfur’s tongue rolled out his gaping mouth.
She gently traced a claw down his cheek. “Oh yes, I will find a special place for him on my gate.”
Blood dripped blood onto the floor, with a quiet tap-tap-tap.
Christian looked up at the ice demon, recovering his composure. “I told you I would bring it to you.”
“You did not disappoint little one,” Tarquen said.
“In return, I want the power to make ice children.”
“Ha! For this?” Sulfur’s head vanished into her Inventory. “Even if I wanted to teach you such a powerful skill, you are nowhere near strong enough. But I do have a task for you to fulfill for me.”
Christian shifted back and folded his arms. “What is it?”
“Somewhere in Valeria there is the Fire Knight. He has been most bothersome, responsible for destroying my last lair. He killed my twin sister. I want you to find him and kill him. Get his head for my gate. If you do this, I will teach you a great power.”
Quest: Received!
A knight of fire you must find, with whom your fate is intertwined. Snuff out his life for all to see, and Tarquen will grant you an ability.
“I do have a little gift for you,” Tarquen said.
From her bosom, she produced a sparkling blood-red gem.
“A heart given willingly,” she said, giving the gem to Christian.
With that Tarquen turned and traversed through the icy mirror back into
her cave. Her figure became a shadow under the surface of the ice as she sashayed away.
Christian reached out, seeing if he could permeate the surface of the mirror as Tarquen had done but all that met his palm was a cold sheet of ice.
In his other hand was the gem. It sparkled as he held it up.
He equipped his sword and pushed the gem into it. He was rewarded with a notification.
Quest: Complete Ashana
Heart Stone: 1/3
A heart given willingly: +50% resistance to Blight, +50% resistance to Poison.
“Damn,” he said under his breath.
Christian left his quarters and walked, lost in his thoughts. He made his way to where the sabretooth was kept. The fortress contained several stables in the bottom levels for griffins. Each stable had a gate at the back which could be winched up, allowing the griffins to jump directly out of the fortress into the air below. His uncle had managed to collect a couple of the creatures over the years, however most of the stables were empty. It was in one of these that they had deemed it safe to keep the sabretooth.
They had built a huge straw mat in the center of this stable and the sabretooth sat there contently gnawing on the thigh of a cow.
“Hey buddy,” Christian said.
The sabretooth eyed him suspiciously as he got closer. “I wanted to thank you for your help back there. We wouldn’t have been able to escape without you.”
The sabretooth eyed him for a moment and then turned its attention back to the thigh. Christian reached down to stroke the creature, but it froze at he got close. It rattled out a four-hundred-kilogram growl. Christian withdrew his hand.
“I guess you’re not that kind of cat. Yeah, I’m not one for being petted either.”
He left the animal in peace and headed back to his quarters. He opened his door to see Alexia was standing in his room.
“Hi,” she said. She looked up at Christian through freshly washed hair. She was out of her armor, wearing soft white linen that hung off her curves.
Christian couldn’t deny that he wanted her. In a different life perhaps this would have been their moment.