Lord Sorcerer: Singularity Online: Book 3
Page 83
“Here’s the thing, Vaultkeeper; I shouldn’t have been able to kill Zoridos. I shouldn’t have even had a chance. So, what was the point? Tell me.”
The Vaultkeeper sighed. “Zoridos never knew that, as the Bonded Ruler of the city, it could access the Vault anytime it wanted,” he explained. “It always demanded entrance to the Library, and the Parmassae have the right to refuse that to anyone – well, anyone who’s not a member of the House of Stars, that is. If it had insisted on entering the Vault, though, I would have had to allow it.
“You were – an opportunity, I suppose is the best way to put it. Your Title, the Redeemer, is a powerful one, and it was one that I don’t think Zoridos truly saw the danger of. When you reclaimed this place, I could feel that it was permanent. I assumed that you would do the same thing to the palace, the barracks, the Craft Ward – basically, that you’d go around reclaiming the city. It was the logical plan of attack, after all. That would have weakened Zoridos’ hold on the Tree-heart enough for me to be able to ignore it, and the Vault would be safe again.”
“No, it wouldn’t have. Zoridos held that bond with the power of thousands of trapped souls, not through a connection to the city. Unless the bond was broken or the souls freed, nothing would have weakened the creature’s power.” Aranos shook his head. “So, you sent me to my possible death over a gamble?”
“Do you think I don’t recognize a Traveler when I see one?” the Vaultkeeper laughed a booming laugh. “Your life was never in any real danger, Sorcerer.”
“Other lives were, though,” Aranos said quietly. “One of my companions gave her life to defeat Zoridos. Someone who was very close to me.” He felt anger rising in him, and he gathered a handful of warding mana, holding it up as a ball of swirling, deep purple. “So, tell me now why I need you? Why I shouldn’t banish you back to your realm this instant and just guard the Vault myself?”
“The Vault needs a keeper, my Lord,” the creature said softly, its eyes fixed on the glowing sphere above Aranos’ hand. “But if you wish to banish me, do so. I would welcome a return to my home.”
Aranos snorted. “I’m a Traveler. I know why people leave their own worlds willingly, and it’s not because they’re eager to go back. You chose an eternity of guarding a Vault over whatever was waiting for you back there. You wouldn’t have done that if you were anxious to return home.”
The Vaultkeeper sighed. “I find myself no longer impressed with your insight, my Lord,” he grumbled. “You’re correct, though. My world is not a friendly or healthy one for me. It’s a violent, turbulent place. Remember how I told you that my race is able to affect reality directly with our minds? Well, that gift runs stronger in some of us than others. Those with stronger gifts basically enslave those like me whose gifts are weaker. What I’ve been doing here is much like what I’d be doing back home, except without the torture and constant invasions of my mind. So, you can imagine I’m not eager to return.”
Aranos nodded. “Then you’ll let me into the Vault,” he ordered. “You won’t lie to me again, even by omission, and you won’t allow me to do anything that would be dangerous to myself or anyone I care about while I’m in the Vault. If you agree to those terms, I’ll let you stay. If you break them, I’ll send you back and find another warden. Are we understood?”
“Yes, my Lord,” the Vaultkeeper said heavily. “The material you seek is within; I will guide you and answer any questions you have. Please, enter.”
The massive doors parted, and Aranos stepped back to allow them to swing open fully. Beyond the doors was a space far too large for the cavern in which they were standing. A long, straight aisle of some metal Aranos didn’t recognize stretched before him, disappearing in the distance. Shelves of the same metal stretched to the distant ceiling and reached out to both sides, vanishing from view and creating endless rows that beckoned to him.
“Welcome to the Vault of Antas,” the Vaultkeeper’s voice rolled throughout the space, seeming to come from everywhere at once. A blue-green light suddenly flickered into being in front of Aranos. “Please follow the light to your destination, the assembled works of Namestria.”
Some time later, Aranos escorted Longfellow back to the Treehome, carrying not only the precious books from the ancient, elven Wizard but also two complete sets of armor, one for him and one for Geltheriel. He’d instructed the Vaultkeeper to lead him to the best gear made for those Classes that he and his Follower could wear, and the spirit had obliged:
Arcane Lore Success!
Due to these items being a Quest reward, success was automatic.
You have received:
Robe of the Grand Sorcerer
Type: Armor
Rarity: Exceptional
Quality: Masterwork
Effects: Magic Resistance +15%, Defense +60, Spell Power +50%, Spell Casting Speed +50%
Activated Effect: Aura of Reflection – Reflect all hostile Spells back at their caster for 30 s, once per day
Crown of the Grand Sorcerer
Type: Helmet
Rarity: Exceptional
Quality: Masterwork
Effects: Int +10, Wis +10, SP Regen +25%, Spell Creation Speed +25%
Activated Effect: Nullifying Gaze – Disjoin a single standing magical effect with an Opposed Check: your [Int + Mana Manipulation] versus the caster’s [Int + Spell level]. Can be used once per day.
Staff of the Grand Sorcerer
Type: Two-handed
Rarity: Exceptional
Quality: Masterwork
Damage: 35 – 47
Effects: Attack +30, Armor Penetration +25%
Activated Effect: Dancing Weapon – Can be released to fight independently using your Staff Mastery Skill and Int instead of Str for Attack and Damage bonuses for up to 1 minute, once per day.
Matched Set Bonuses!
You have discovered the matched set: Regalia of the Grand Sorcerer
Benefits: All activated effects can be used twice per day, all bonuses increased by 10%
Shadedancer’s Leathers
Type: Armor
Rarity: Exceptional
Quality: Masterwork
Effects: Armor +120, Defense +80, Dodge +25%, Stealth +25%, Stamina Regen +25%
Activated Effect: Dancing Shadows – Blind all enemies within 30’ for 10 s, once per day
Shadedancer’s Bulwark
Type: Shield
Rarity: Exceptional
Quality: Masterwork
Effects: Defense +50, Missile deflection +25%, Magic resistance +15%
Activated Effect: Solid Shadows – Inflict Paralyzed Debuff on all enemies within 30’ for 10 s, once per day
Shadedancer’s Talisman
Type: Charm
Rarity: Exceptional
Quality: Masterwork
Effects: Agil +10, Per +10, LP Regen +25%, SP Regen +15%
Activated Effect: Shadows of Blood – Restore 50% of lost LP, once per day
Matched Set Bonuses!
You have discovered the matched set: Shadedancer’s Garb
Benefits: All activated effects can be used twice per day, all bonuses increased by 10%
Before leaving, Aranos had also spoken to the Parmassae. It turned out that, as the Bonded Ruler of the city, he now had a lot more authority over the librarians – not as much as he had over the Vaultkeeper, but enough to ask that they make copies of any Lore about the Pantheon of Light, the Feast of Virnal, and the Arcane Doors for he and his party to take. The librarians had somewhat reluctantly agreed to his firmly worded request and informed him that it would take at least three days for the materials to be ready. Aranos was fine with that; they were logging out tomorrow, anyway, so the players wouldn’t even be able to make use of it for at least two days.
Now, he stood before Rhys thoughtfully. The Druid hadn’t attempted to escape or break his bonds – Aranos was pretty sure the elf could do so if he tried hard enough – and seemed content to sit quietly, gagged and blindfolded. Aranos
judiciously cast his Shield Mind Spell before reaching out and removing the gag, pulling it down to the Druid’s throat.
Rhys coughed and licked his lips. “Liberator, I assume that is you?” he spoke, his voice harsh and raspy. Aranos looked more closely at the elf and saw streams of dried tear tracks on his cheeks.
“It’s me, Rhys,” Aranos replied softly, also removing the blindfold. The Sorcerer wasn’t particularly nervous – he didn’t think anything the Druid could try would harm him through his Arcane Armor and mind shield. “You want to explain what happened?”
“I – I do not know, Liberator,” the Druid admitted, a catch in his throat. Aranos was half suspicious, but his Scent Ability didn’t detect any signs of falsehood from the man. “I cannot explain.”
“Try,” Aranos insisted with a frown. “You killed another party member, Rhys. You jeopardized everything and everyone. I’m deciding now if I should execute you or not. I’m going to need more convincing than ‘I don’t know’.”
Rhys’ head hang low. “It is difficult to explain, as everything from that time is – hazy in my memory. Yet, I shall attempt as best I can.”
The Druid’s head remained downcast as he spoke. “My thoughts have been dark of late, Liberator,” he admitted. “I have had – urges, I suppose, that I have had difficulty restraining. There have been times when I had to force myself to heal the party, especially when I knew that it was essential. When we were faced with overwhelming odds, I have felt the need to attack, heedlessly and with abandon, and to encourage you to do so, as well.
“I have mastered these, so far, but the desires within me have grown stronger these past few days. When you told us of the Dream Haunter’s Abilities, I should have felt fear and concern for the others. Instead, I felt a wave of anger toward you, one I could not control. It seemed for a moment that I could recall dozens of times when you had endangered us all by withholding such information, and I could not understand why others were so easily convinced to let it go. I was enraged, but when you spoke to me, I recalled more clearly. I remembered your true actions, and the anger fell away – but it did not vanish.
“All day, as we traveled to the Treehome, my rage was slowly building. Why were we doing this? Why were we going willingly to our deaths at your word? I could once more recall countless times you had abandoned us to go off alone, times when you had left us to our deaths in search of greater rewards.
“Once we were in the Treehome, the feeling became a certainty, Liberator. You had abandoned us, sacrificed us to the qualintar, while you and the Avenger were off lying together. You had betrayed us, and I had to convince the others to quit the field, to run while there was still time. It seemed that I had no choice but to kill the Shaman; bereft of healers, the party would surely flee. She would be reborn, and I would have saved us all. I would be the hero, for once, not you, Liberator.”
Rhys raised his head to stare into Aranos’ stunned eyes. “And there is my secret shame, revealed for you. Even before all this began, I felt jealous of you, Liberator. I watched you free Mistress Dirue, and I was jealous that I could not. I saw you battle Lord Keryth in the skies above Eredain, and I wished I had such power. I was part of the party, yes, but an inconsequential part. None sang the praises of Rhys, the healer who kept the Liberator from dying.
“Something fed that jealousy and turned it into anger. Even now, I feel it; I know it is absurd, and that the memories I have are wrong, but still, it is there. I look at you, and a part of me wishes to break these bonds and hurl Spells at you, even knowing that it would mean my death. I do not understand, but I beg forgiveness – and I beseech your aid, Liberator. I cannot hold these feeling back for long.”
Aranos reached out and touched the Druid, laying a mind shield on him. He watched, hoping for some reaction, but the Druid gave no sign that the Spell was having any effect. Whatever was happening to the Druid was happening at a deeper level, beyond what the simple Spell could reach, and there was only one way he could find what was going on. Hesitantly, he cast his Void Prison and wrapped it around the surprised-looking Druid.
“I’m going to need to enter your mind to try and fix this, Rhys,” the Sorcerer said gently. “Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but I’m pretty sure that right now, you’ll do everything in your power to stop me. I don’t think you’ll have a choice. I’m sorry that I have to do this to you, and I hope you’ll understand.”
Aranos closed his eyes and willed a tendril of mind mana to flow down his arm, through the contact with the Druid, and into the elf’s thoughts. Immediately, a wave of rage struck him; Rhys was furious at his intrusion, at being held helpless while it happened. He felt brief resistance as the elf tried to push him away, but Aranos ignored it and slipped deeper into his mind.
Rhys had spoken of strange memories, ones that he knew were false but couldn’t ignore, so Aranos decided to start there. He dove into the well of the elf’s mind, using his own expertise at navigating the memories of the Skill books and the dreamscape to flit about easily. Rhys’ thoughts were a chaotic swirl, but the new, strange memories were obvious. They loomed in the man’s thoughts, and Aranos could sense the strands of mind mana holding them there. No wonder he can’t ignore these, Aranos realized. He’s being forced to pay attention to them.
Aranos wove his own strands of mind mana, wrapping them around the threads of power that fed these thoughts. Just as he’d once done when severing the chains of the iggullon in his dreamscape, he slipped his strands into the thin streams of energy, following them safely beyond Rhys’ mind before severing them cleanly. He cut each strand as gently as he could before shrouding the memories in a haze of mind mana. He could probably remove them, but he wasn’t sure what kind of damage that might do to the Druid. Hopefully, bereft of power and misted over with his mana, the memories would quickly fade and be forgotten.
Aranos flitted through the Druid’s mind, not touching but just observing. Rhys’ mind had been tampered with; there were signs of it everywhere, signs that his Tracking experience showed Aranos plainly. Someone had tried to cover it up and had done an expert job, but Aranos was too gifted a tracker to be so easily fooled. There, a memory had been nudged out of place, shifted to make some other memories more coherent. Here, a tiny flaw in a memory caused it to stutter briefly, something that Rhys would attribute to nothing more than a memory lapse but that Aranos could clearly see was a remnant from an almost-perfect edit. Whoever had done this was incredibly skilled; they hadn’t just created memories that would be rejected by Rhys’ mind. They’d shifted and edited other memories to support the new ones, to lend them credence. The changes started small but became exponentially large as Rhys’ own experiences worked to reinforce the altered memories. Aranos might be able to fix it, but he didn’t have this sort of Skill. He’d be just as likely to destroy the man’s mind as to help him.
A sudden flash caught Aranos’ attention, and he spun to follow a single, random image that darted away. The image was strangely torn and disjointed, as if it were a fragment of something larger, something that had been cut away without quite being perfectly removed. The thought tugged at Aranos’ own memory, and as he pursued the retreating figment, he allowed his thoughts to wander.
I’ve seen something like this before, he mused. Something where the person had tried to repair a weave but not quite gotten it right. They’d almost made it match perfectly, but there’s no such thing as a perfect repair. Once you’ve cut something away, you’ll never make whatever you fill it with fit just right, whether it was cut with a blade or with void mana…
He froze for a moment as he remembered where he’d seen a patch job like this. It had been when he was investigating the murder of the Patriarch of House Gilris, when he and Saphielle – he quickly set that thought aside as a stab of pain spiked through him – when he’d realized that part of the Patriarch’s ward had been cut open with void magic and then almost perfectly repaired. This was the same thing – the perpetrator had been highly
skilled and an expert in what they were doing, but they hadn’t quite been good enough to escape Aranos’ notice – but that had been Keryth, the Patriarch of Exxidor.
Hadn’t it?
A feeling of dread rose in Aranos as he neared the torn fragment of memory. It was a brief image, a sensation, a feeling, and no more than that. In it, he was somewhere both familiar and strange, a place he thought he’d known but actually hadn’t. He was terrified, bound, helpless. He knew the figure standing above him – but at the same time, he didn’t know them at all. Aranos could almost see it, the white robe, the long fingers, the silver hair…
His thoughts crystallized, and Aranos knew.
Golloron.
Golloron, who was a master of mind magic, something Aranos had almost forgotten. The elf had taught Aranos how to create and use his mindscape, so long ago, and had been surprised that Aranos had any ability to resist the Wizard’s mental intrusion.
Golloron, who could see minds the way Aranos saw mana but somehow never realized Lily and her aswang were in the Stronghold’s midst. Or did he?
Golloron, who’d read every Skill book in Durlan’s library but somehow missed a Corrupted tome that would be just the sort of thing that would appeal to a curious Sorcerer with a penchant for crafting and a Soulbound Companion.
Golloron, who’d assigned them this Cleansing Quest and who’d set the time it had to be completed by, which just coincidentally led Aranos to the same place Lily needed to go at the same time that she needed to be there to complete her ritual.