Lord Sorcerer: Singularity Online: Book 3

by Kyle Johnson

  At Silma’s urging, he’d dropped six of her extra points into her Str, bumping the Stat over 50 and giving her a 25% boost to her carrying capacity and bite damage. The remaining four had been split evenly between her Agil and Per.

  Despite his new Undead Bane Title, Aranos hadn’t actually gotten the XP for killing the thousands of undead in the city; he also hadn’t gotten any soul points for mending the tens of thousands of souls trapped in the Tree-heart, even though doing so had given him a 10-point Skill boost and an extra Perk. He supposed that was fair, though; he’d already gotten a decent XP bonus for freeing the city, and giving him tens of thousands of extra XP would have pumped his character up maybe too far, too fast. That didn’t even touch upon granting him twenty or thirty thousand soul points and sending his Mental Stats up into the thousands.

  As it was, his combined Class level was 24. Phil and his party, except for Meridian who was still holding off on her Advanced Class, had reached level 11 in their Base Classes and level 3 in their Advanced Classes thanks to their accumulated XP. Martina was at levels 10 and 2, respectively. Only Geltheriel – who was a level 7 Shadedancer and a level 13 Keeper – and Silma were really close to him, level-wise. Levels weren’t everything, but his ability to keep gaining XP through his hanging Quests and Spell creation was keeping the others from catching up.

  The party seemed to be making plans to deal with that issue, though. With Antas freed, it might be possible to clear the High Road all the way back to Stoneleague, and Aranos’ party members were making plans to do just that. They had to return to the human city to complete their Quest, anyway, so they figured they might as well try to power level on the way back to catch up.

  Aranos wished them well, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be traveling with them or not. He still needed to get into the Vault and complete this part of Geltheriel’s Cleansing Quest, and he’d have to see where that led them next. Plus, he wanted to try and move the Travelers from Eredain to Antas; there were more opportunities for adventure out here, the citizens of Eredain would probably be more comfortable without the Travelers around, and the players could basically pick and choose where they wanted to live in the empty city.

  The notification about how he’d gotten Global Reputation meant that there’d been a server-wide announcement of some sort. The odds were, everyone in Ka knew that Antas had been freed and that Aranos was now its Lord. That would be drawing all sorts of attention, both friendly and unfriendly. Stoneleague would certainly be interested in sending a delegation, as would the Elven Realms, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the dwarves showed up at some point. The urukkai of Cendarta would probably be a difficulty, and of course, Lily would be floating around out there, somewhere. Running a House had been a pain in the butt; he couldn’t imagine that ruling a city would be any easier.

  That meant he needed allies, beyond the Travelers in Eredain. He needed to make connections in the Elven Realms and Stoneleague, convince others to come settle in his city, and build up its defenses as best he could. He also needed to try and establish a connection between Antas and the House of Stars, if possible. It seemed like it would massively facilitate his travel around the Elven Realms if he could enter the House of Stars here and exit in, say, Eredain. It would take him minutes to make the trip instead of days.

  You know it won’t be that easy, he reminded himself before his hopes got up. If the elves could do that, they’d have just opened the House of Stars to everyone and let people travel as they pleased. Or at least, they’d have replicated the system and made some sort of central travel hub. I’ll have to dig into it more before I make any decisions.

  Before any of that, though, there was still something that needed doing, and Aranos wasn’t totally ready to do it. He still needed to get into the Vault and read Namethria’s works – he also understood that there would be some sort of matched item set for him there – but before he could do that, he needed to have a long chat with the Vaultkeeper. Sighing, he rose to his feet and headed down to the main floor of the Treehome, where he found Longfellow examining his crossbows with a critical eye.

  “Everything okay?” the Sorcerer asked, looking the mechanical weapons over curiously. They looked fine to him, but he wasn’t an expert weaponsmith or bowyer, so he didn’t really know.

  “Just need to upgrade at some point, is all,” the Deadshot sighed. “My new Class lets me add magical effects to my bolts and crossbows, but it really only works well if the bows are higher quality and better materials. These aren’t exactly rubbish, but they’re starter gear.” The Archer chuckled. “’Course, I can afford better now, can’t I?”

  Aranos laughed as well; that was certainly the case. When the party had taken the Treehome, McBane and Longfellow had set out immediately to see if there was a treasure room of some kind. There was, and Zoridos’ vanity had led the creature to gather every bit of treasure from the city and lock it all inside. It was a huge, piled mess, but it was enough money to keep them all in good equipment for a while. Sadly, the various arms and armor in the Treehome’s armory hadn’t fared as well. The Runecrafted objects had held up okay, but any mundane or Enchanted ones had rusted away or crumbled to sawdust long ago. The necrotic zone that sustained Zoridos and its undead minions had also steadily eroded every solid object within it over the centuries, from the walls to the furniture. Aranos’ Needful Reclamation had repaired all the stonework, refilled the underground water sources, and rebuilt the fallen structures, but crafting wooden furniture was beyond his Skills and the Spell’s power.

  “What about you, mate?” Longfellow asked. “How are you holding up?”

  “Badly,” Aranos admitted. “Too much to do, not enough time to do it, and it’s hard to get motivated to do anything right now.”

  “Understandable,” Longfellow nodded. “Looks like you managed to get motivated somehow, though. Where you headed?”

  “The Library. I still need to get into the Vault, and I’ve got some time before I can examine Rhys and – that other thing.”

  “Yeah, I could stretch my legs, as well,” Longfellow agreed, rising to his feet. “Mind if I tag along with you?”

  “Well, you don’t have to,” Aranos hesitated. He liked the ebullient Archer, but he wasn’t really in the mood to be cheered up right now, and Longfellow tended to be fast and loose with the wit. “I don’t mind going alone.”

  “I’m sure you don’t, and it’s not like there’s anything in this city that could hurt you, even if you did. The thing is, alone is probably the last thing you should be right now, you know, so I’ll keep you company for a bit.”

  Aranos looked askance at the Archer, noting the almost clinical way the man had said that last part. “Are you a psychiatrist or something, Longfellow?”

  “Something like that,” the man laughed as the pair headed out into the silent, empty city. “Never would have guessed, would you?”

  Aranos took a deep breath as they stepped outside. The green haze filling the air was gone, now, replaced with simple sunshine. Aranos realized that, if he wanted, he could probably use his Radiance of Life Spell to create an almost opposite effect in the city. He could fill the air with restorative mana, empowering every living thing within it and harming any undead that escaped his purge and tried to re-enter the city. That was another thing he needed to look into, though. Zoridos had managed to keep the necrotic effect going by converting the power of thousands of souls into energy for the Tree-heart. Aranos obviously wouldn’t be doing that, and until he understood more about his bond and how it worked, he didn’t want to play around with it. Even now, he could feel the Tree-heart’s presence in his mind, a vast sort of awareness that both intrigued and terrified him.

  “No, not at all,” Aranos admitted a moment later. “I’ll be honest, I thought you might want to tease me about falling for an NPC to try and cheer me up or something.”

  “Nah, I’d never do that. I like to have fun, sure, but I know where the boundaries are. And as far as being an N
PC, well – I don’t know about that, mate.”

  The new Deadshot rubbed his chin, his face lost in thought. “You know that almost everyone brought in for the beta test was chosen for a specific purpose, right?” he asked the Sorcerer slowly.

  Aranos nodded but said nothing. He knew that the participants had been chosen, in part, because they all showed high natural connectivity to the Mark-I pod, but he assumed there were other reasons, as well. For example, he guessed that he’d been chosen because, as one of the game’s programmers, he’d easily recognize flaws or logical errors in the system.

  “Well, part of the reason I got picked was because of my work. You’ve heard of a Turing test before?”

  “Of course,” Aranos nodded. “A test designed to see if an artificial intelligence can simulate human behavior. Most computer scientists think it’s a bit of a joke, though.”

  “Well, in a way, it is, yeah. The original test was all about behavior; could a computer imitate a human well enough to fool another human? A few programs succeeded in limited ways over the years, usually by adding human errors to their interactions. We’re all programmed to assume that computers don’t make mistakes and humans do, so when you see them, you think you’re dealing with a real person, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard about that,” Aranos agreed. “I’ve also heard that a sufficiently large decision tree with built-in errors that seem to crop up randomly can fool something like 50% of people.”

  “You know a fair bit about it, then,” the Archer laughed approvingly. “Well, let me just say that I’m heading a team working on much better variants of the test. We’re using fields like sociology, behavioral psychology, and cognitive neuroscience to check not for specific answers to questions, but how the respondent answers, and how their answers make you feel.

  “For example, very few machines can make you laugh unless they’re using pre-prepared jokes, and even then, they’re almost never well timed. They can’t make you feel sad, or express sympathy very well – basically, they’re terrible at anything that requires human experience and emotion.

  “I’ve run thousands of these tests,” the man continued. “I’ve never had a machine come close to passing one. The only time it’s sort of happened is when the human participant deliberately acted like a machine, and the interrogator thought they were both machines but that the computer was a bit more lifelike.” He turned and stared at Aranos.

  “But Saphielle passed that test, flying colors, mate,” he said seriously. “So do Geltheriel and Rhys. An AI made you fall in love with it; not lust, but in actual love with its personality. It made you want to be around it. It made you feel so strongly that you’re being hit by mild depression from its loss.”

  He shook his head. “Hell, I watched a bloody AI comfort you when you needed it, and it cried with you! That’s not a decision tree that was just waiting for that moment. I haven’t yet seen one thing that would make me think any of these characters – including the elf that betrayed us, by the way – were anything other than another human playing the part. And I know what I’m looking for; that’s my job.

  “So, no, I don’t think you fell for an NPC, Aranos. I think you fell for the best, damn approximation of a human I’ve ever seen. If I had to stake money on it, I wouldn’t know whether to bet if it’s just the most amazing personality replication in the world or an actual person stepping in to take the role. I don’t blame you for falling for her; I had a bit of a crush on her myself. Still kinda do for Geltheriel, although she also scares the hell out of me, so don’t tell her that, okay?”

  “You think she doesn’t already know? When have you seen something get past her?”

  “Yeah, that’s true.” The man frowned, looking troubled for a moment. “There’s one more thing, though. It’s about that Lily. You know that she’s insane, right?”

  “She does seem a bit crazy,” Aranos acknowledged, not wanting to admit how much he actually knew about the woman.

  “No, mate. Not ‘a bit crazy’. I’m pretty sure that, if I tested her, I’d find she has a severe personality disorder and a history of manic-depressive behavior. Her emotional responses are all wrong; she overreacts to things that shouldn’t upset her and isn’t bothered by things that should. Plus, she doesn’t seem to have the ability to care about other humans, which is textbook sociopathic behavior.” He shook his head.

  “The woman needs help, is what I’m saying, and you have to be careful dealing with her. She won’t respond to things the way you’d think she will. Did you see her face when you threatened to put her in the darkness for eternity? We’d all be scared, sure, but she was utterly terrified. Something about that concept resonates with her, and she’ll do anything – anything at all, including things that you and I would never even dream of – to keep it from happening.”

  The Archer leaned close. “She’s also more than a bit obsessive and seems to have latched onto you. You’re wrong in your guess about her; she won’t be waiting for us on the High Road. She’s all about you. The rest of us are incidental, and hurting us is only a means to an end. She won’t be lurking about, waiting to ambush you, though. She’s methodical. This whole thing was planned out in too much detail for her to rely on random chance. She’ll be working on her next scheme to hurt you, and she’ll have learned from this one.”

  Aranos sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He’d kind of hoped that Lily would get the hint and move on – he knew that she was afraid of the dark from their fight in the dreamscape, and he thought that maybe a threat like that would have backed her off. If Longfellow was right, though, it had probably just increased her hatred of him and made everything worse. “You know, part of me kind of prefers the snarky Longfellow to the super smart and competent one,” he half-complained.

  The Archer laughed. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. I’m this guy the rest of my life, but this is a game, isn’t it? Here, we get to be the people we’d rather be. In Singularity, I don’t have to worry about things, don’t have to analyze everything, and get to spend my time taking the piss out of the world. It’s a lot more fun than being boring, old Dr. Samir, I can tell you that!”

  They reached the doors to the Library, and Aranos shifted the metal mana sealing them shut, allowing him to push the twin portals easily enough. The crystal dome was still in front of them, which Aranos belatedly realized was a good thing. It would have sucked to walk all the way here and realize that the only entrance was still in their camp down in the escape tunnel. Of course, just because the dome was still here didn’t mean the entrance was.

  He touched the crystal, and to his relief, the face of the Parmassae swam into focus. “Lord Evenshade,” the voice said deferentially. “Do you wish entry to the Library?”

  “For me and my friend, please,” the Sorcerer nodded, indicating Longfellow.

  “Of course,” the Parmassae bowed its head, and a few moments later, the glass-lined tunnel spun into view.

  “I’m going to the Vault,” Aranos told the Archer. “Do you really want to wait for me here? I can…”

  “Yeah, they’ve got Skill books; I’m going to see if they’ve got some on Fletching and Bowyery. Is that a word? Feels like it should be.”

  Aranos chuckled and entered the silent halls of the Library. Following his wishes, one of the Parmassae led him deeper into the structure, through the myriad tunnels and eventually into the huge anteroom of the Vault. The Vaultkeeper’s massive face swam in Aranos’ vision, and it appeared amused as it stared at the much smaller man.

  “Welcome back, Lord Evenshade,” the voice boomed before returning to a more normal register. “Sorry, again. I’m still not totally used to speaking.”

  “You’re decent at lying, though, aren’t you?” Aranos asked quietly. He’d thought about how to handle this moment quite a bit, and he’d decided that bluntness was probably the best route.

  “Lying?” the Vaultkeeper repeated. “And when did I lie to you, arcane?”

  “When you t
old me there wasn’t enough power to open and close the Vault,” Aranos said flatly. “I’m bonded with the Tree-heart, now; I know how it works. The necrotic energy was being used to sustain the undead and the necrotic zone. There was plenty of leftover soul energy that you could have drawn on.”

  “Even if that were true,” the Vaultkeeper continued smoothly, “why would I lie? I have no reason to keep you out of the Vault.”

  “It wasn’t about me. It was about you – you and Zoridos, to be precise. You wanted me to take care of the qualintar for you, because you were afraid of it.”

  “Afraid?” the Vaultkeeper laughed. “I had no reason to be afraid of Zoridos, any more than I should be afraid of you. As I said, magic doesn’t function within the Vault. I could trap the qualintar within and watch it die…”

  “You might be right that magic doesn’t normally work in the Vault,” Aranos agreed. “But the energy of the Tree-heart does. Even more than that; it binds you, doesn’t it? Open the Vault to me, Vaultkeeper. As the Bonded Ruler of Antas, I command it.” Aranos felt a tiny surge of power roll out of him and swirl around the warden’s huge face, which had grown still and serious at once.

  “Well done, my Lord,” the creature murmured. “How did you know?”

  “It was the only logical inference,” Aranos shrugged. “First, killing Zoridos couldn’t have been a requirement for getting into the Vault. I have a Quest to get inside there, and normally, destroying that thing would have taken an army. Even if that was one way to finish the Quest, there’s always another, easier route. If I’d just demanded it before, you’d have had to let me in, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes. As the ranking member of the House of Stars and the highest-ranking elf noble in the city, you had the right to demand access. You chose not to use it…”

  “I fell for your trick, you mean,” Aranos corrected with a snort. “As for knowing that whoever was Bonded to the Tree-heart could command you, well that was more of an educated guess, in all honesty. Why would the elves summon you here and not give themselves the ability to command you? Of course, they couldn’t make it so any of them could – what kind of Vault would it be if anyone had the key? Once I recalled that you said the Vault was powered by the Tree-heart, it made sense. If the Tree-heart powers it, then whoever controls the Heart controls you. And, if the Tree-heart’s power was cut off inside the Vault, then there wouldn’t be any way to preserve whatever was within. So, the Bonded Ruler couldn’t be trapped in the Vault, either. That meant that Zoridos could have taken whatever it wanted, at any time, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop it.