The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Three markers,” Elsa concluded, regaining her typical appearance. “Plinto the Bloodied, Soulstealer the Grandiose and Mata Delkar.”

  “Ah yes, all people familiar to me,” I lied blatantly. I could more or less understand why Plinto had tracked me, but the other two, Soulstealer and Mata remained a mystery to me. By the way! “Say, do you tell everyone who placed the markers?”

  Plinto’s always placing markers on Anastaria and swears that she doesn’t know about them. And yet, practice just showed that Elizabeth not only confirms that there are markers on you, but also tells you whom they belong to.

  “No, typically, I merely bestow my blessing. In this case, I was curious who is tracking a Harbinger, so I decided to look up the owners too. You said, that you had two pieces of business for me. We just dealt with one. What’s the second one?”

  “Do you know what a Crastil is?”

  “An ornamental orb with an inscription in a dead language which no one speaks. Well, that, or there is another hypothesis that the inscription is pure nonsense.”

  “I need one. Do you know where I can get it?”

  “As far as I know, the High Mage of Anhurs has a Crastil. The Emperor has several lying about in his treasure vaults. Several more are scattered about the continent and I think the pirates have one or two. If I remember correctly, you already should have one or two as well.”

  “I no longer have them, and so I’m looking for a new way to acquire one of these little balls.”

  “What do you need it for? They don’t serve any purpose. Hundreds of minds over many millennia have tried to solve the riddle of the Crastils with no success.”

  “I have a theory I’d like to check. What do you think, will the Mage sell me the one he has?”

  “He is one of the few remaining investigators of the Crastil, so I doubt it. But you could give it a shot. Why not? The one piece of advice I can offer you is offer him an exchange. Something that might pique his interest. Something unique.”

  “Unique?” I asked surprised. “Does the High Mage really like unique items?”

  “Like any other normal sentient,” Elizabeth shrugged. “I like to collect unique items as well. Unfortunately, I don’t have a Crastil in my collection.”

  “And what do you have?” I couldn’t help ask against my better judgment when Hoarding Hamster and Greed Toad, who’d been busy snoozing until that moment, suddenly elbowed aside my innate modesty and took control of my entire organism. Even if this was only a temporary usurpation, it was enough to force out the question. And, I was surprised to discover that in some sense I agreed with them. What if I get the chance to rummage around the stores of the Priestess of Eluna?

  “You’re still the same old Mahan,” Elsa giggled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you—I don’t have anything that could be of use to a Shaman. I’m not interested in items that have nothing to do with Eluna, and she’s not your goddess.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” I refused to give up. “The Amulet of the Junior Priestess doesn’t have anything to do with a Shaman either, and yet, if you recall Beatwick, it was used to save quite a few lives. Life is long and sometimes things go so awry that you can only look at them and wonder how it could work out this way. Today Eluna isn’t my goddess, tomorrow she is and the day after it might turn out that she’s no one’s goddess at all. Could you guarantee that this doesn’t happen?”

  Skill increase:

  +20% to Charisma. Total: 61%.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Elizabeth replied slowly, considering something. “Life is so unpredictable that you never know whether you’ll be a High Priestess forever or you’ll be exiled one day to some distant part of the Empire for something your husband did. Come along—I will show you my collection.”

  You have received temporary access to the private chamber of the High Priestess of Eluna. Access duration: 60 minutes.

  “When they found Yalininka’s body,” Elsa began to explain, pausing at the first exhibit in her modest room, “there was no limit to the sorrow of the sentients of this continent. The elves refused to accept the silver wings because they considered themselves and the wings complicit in the great one’s death. Then the High Priestess of the time was tasked with saving the wings as a token of remembrance of the faith healer. Even though I hadn’t the right to do it, I moved the wings from the treasure vault to my office. It doesn’t do for a relic like this to gather dust in the darkness.”

  Silently, I looked on two small silver wings and a lump of sorrow formed in my throat. Instead of the eternally young girl that everyone always depicted on statues and paintings, I was imagining the elderly and life-weary woman who, nevertheless, still had enough strength to come to the aid of a lost and confused Shaman during the last few minutes of her life. And this even though the Shaman considered himself the most cunning and intelligent persona around.

  “This is the fan of Riksha’as,” Elizabeth began to list the other items, but I was only half-listening, still staring at the wings. Their properties were hidden to me, but even if a player who equipped them could fly with them, I would knock him out of the air and thrash him until he’d drop this Legendary item. There are items that one is not allowed to use. They should only be revered. And I couldn’t care less that this is a game.

  “This is Elaine’s amulet and this one of the nine Paladins of the Round Table,” Elsa went on, pretending that she didn’t notice my stupor. “The elven gown of Loe, the golden map of Getshak, the gloves of Naruem, the cape of Omelsi…all Legendary items of legendary Paladins and Priests of eras gone by. My collection is not so ample, but every item here has its own history. A sorrowful one and a bloody one, but one proper to the item.”

  “Stacey, are you in the game?” I made a silent call. Turning off my brain, reason, feelings and emotions, I turned to Anastaria like to an ordinary person who could help me.

  “I’m here,” Anastaria replied without a trace of mockery.

  “I really need the Farewell Ribbon of the Great Yalininka, which I gave to Barsina once.”

  A silence ensued for several moments and then Anastaria said:

  “Summon me.”

  “Elsa, could I summon Anastaria here?” I asked the High Priestess to her immense surprise.

  “Right here?”

  “It doesn’t matter—it could be to your public office, if you like.”

  “Hang on,” Elsa made several motions with her hands and then said: “You can summon her here. I’ve granted her access…”

  “It is an immense honor to enter this place, oh High One,” Anastaria bowed her head, instantly realizing where she was.

  “What do you want?” the girl added telepathically. “If she sees the ribbon in my hands, I’ll receive all the bonuses.”

  “The hell with the bonuses. Simply give it to her,” I cut her off. From a player’s perspective what I was doing at the moment was incredibly taboo—simply giving a unique item to an NPC. An item that I could sell for huge amounts of money and an item that doesn’t belong to me. But I knew one thing—what I wanted to do was the right thing.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “High Priestess,” Anastaria began, “during his many travels, my husband encountered Yalininka, who sold him this item,” Anastaria produced the ribbon and offered it to Elizabeth. “On behalf of our family, I request you accept this gift.”

  Elizabeth accepted the ribbon in a stupor, read its properties and the poor NPC’s eyes grew into two immense saucers. Naturally, it’s not every day that players simply donate Unique items like this.

  “I detect no pretense or ulterior motive in their thoughts,” sounded Eluna’s surprised voice right behind my back. “Mahan truly believes that giving you the ribbon is the right thing to do, and Anastaria truly believes that Mahan is right. This couple never ceases to amaze me! They truly do not resemble other Free Citizens!”

  “Goddess,” Anastaria and I said in unison, bowing our heads before one
of the mightiest creatures of this world.

  “In that case,” Eluna continued, looking at Elizabeth as a mother looks on a small child who’s received a present she’s dreamed of her entire brief life. The High Priestess had still not stepped away. It looked like the Imitator had had a breakdown and crashed. “I won’t do anything right this moment, or make any decisions. We shall all meet again. For now, please leave Elizabeth. She needs a little time.”

  Some junior Priests appeared and first ushered us out of Elsa’s private chamber and then from the temple entirely. They managed this so gracefully that I couldn’t think of a single objection. The temple’s doors closed to the irritation of some players who were in a hurry to see the Priests, but only a minute passed before Anastaria and I remained alone on the temple’s steps. What was the point in trying to break in and lose time? There’s never enough of it anyway.

  “Thank you,” I said, carefully examining the roof tiles on the building on the other side of the square. Whatever I felt about the girl in general, she had just done me a great favor. And even if it couldn’t be quantified in actual bonuses, I was dead certain that this gift would pay off for me in the future. Whether it’d be good or bad, something would come of it.

  “Thanks to you,” Stacey replied, examining the same tiles. “Did you see the wings?”

  “Try and not see them.”

  “I would’ve never believed they were real. You couldn’t even see them in that video where you met Yalininka. But here…it’s a miracle!”

  I didn’t reply, since I didn’t know what I could say. Anastaria had just given an NPC a unique item, without any questions or demands of her own. And she’d known that she’d never get it back. Still, she had given in at my request. If it weren’t for the whole episode involving the opening to the Tomb of the Creator, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but now I wasn’t so sure. What did she want?

  “Where’d you run off to, sunshine?” Stacey’s surprised voice sounded in my head when I found nothing better to do than to blink away on my business.

  “The problem of the Priests has been resolved, my kitten, and I had nothing else to do there.”

  “I understand that of course. But you could have at least returned me to the same place you’d summoned me from.”

  “Sorry babe, I’m completely broke for time. Call your Mages and have them send you wherever you need,” I didn’t bother bringing up the mysterious Rogue markers that I’d found on myself. Why? Let her think that I don’t know anything about it and that I’d received the Priestess’s blessing routinely. I’d feel calmer that way anyway.

  “What brings the Shaman Earl to my modest lodgings?” boomed the High Mage of Anhurs as soon as I entered his office, panting from the steep climb up the tower. Are the devs really going to keep telling me that my sensory filter is turned on after this? I almost pulled all my leg muscles struggling up those stairs.

  Despite my desire to sign out to reality and get a good night’s sleep after my meeting with Anastaria, I decided to stop by the place of the only holder of a Crastil known to me and try to solve all of my problems in one fell swoop.

  “Greetings oh High One,” I said half asleep and trying to catch my breath. I’ll need to send the video of my ascent to the developers asking whether players with sensory filters should feel this way after climbing to the High Mage’s tower. “I have some business to discuss with you.”

  “What business?” the old man adjusted his grizzled beard and sat down at his table which was cluttered with empty and half-empty vials.

  “I have heard a rumor,” I finally managed my breathing and stood up straight, “that you are in possession of a Crastil. I’d like to trade you something for it.”

  “You’d like to trade something for my unique adamant Crastil?” The Mage raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What do you need it for? Do you know something that may shed light on their use?”

  “I only have a hunch,” I decided to bait him along. “In order to verify it, I need an actual Crastil. I’m not asking you to give it to me forever. We can make an agreement that in a month or two, I will return the Crastil to you. I imagine that a Herald will be ready to witness such a contract.”

  “Hmm,” hummed the Mage. “You have managed to ignite my curiosity, Shaman. Let’s go over it one more time—you’d like to lease the Crastil I have and you promise to return it in two months. Did I understand you correctly?”

  “That is correct.”

  “If your hunch proves accurate, you must tell me what you needed the Crastil for. If not, you must tell me what you wanted to check. Do we have a deal?”

  “Deal.”

  “In that case, there is only one more small matter—what shall I receive for leasing you the orb?”

  “Information,” I took a stab in the dark. “You are studying the Crastils and…”

  “Young man,” the Mage interrupted, “I have been studying Crastils several hundred years and during this time so many people have come to me as you just did that I’ve lost count. Everyone wanted one thing—that I give, sell, trade, or gift him the Crastil. I don’t even have to think hard to recall the last one—just yesterday, your spouse, Anastaria, offered me several truly wondrous items for my Crastil. How will you top her offer? Why should I give the Crastil to you in particular?”

  So she knows about the Mage too…Not good!

  “I am prepared to offer you the Chess Set of Karmadont, which I crafted, in exchange for the Crastil.” I decided to play my trump card, placing the chess pieces one at a time on the Mage’s desk.

  The Mage froze for several moments, staring at the pieces like they were some miracle, but he quickly regained his composure and smiled:

  “I have heard, I have heard,” he said, stroking his beard. “The Shaman Jeweler set out on the path of the Chess Set and has already accomplished the most important thing—opening the Tomb of the Creator. No matter that you have plunged Barliona into chaos! Could such a trifle matter to the Shaman Jeweler? It’s creation that’s important to him!”

  “Chaos?” I echoed surprised. “What’s chaos have to do with it?”

  “As soon as you pass the threshold of the Tomb you shall encounter the chaos of which I speak.”

  “Maybe in that case I shouldn’t enter the Tomb at all?” I carefully asked the Mage. This news made me a little anxious. I didn’t want to become the reason of some kind of chaos.

  “It is too late,” the old man shook his head sadly. “If you won’t, some other Free Citizen will enter the Tomb. What difference does it make who opens Pandora’s Box? The main thing has already been accomplished—the way lies open.”

  “Esteemed Mage,” I decided to squeeze the Mage as politely as possible, bringing my entire arsenal of Charisma to bear against him. “What is this chaos of which you speak? If the Tomb contains something that should not be opened, then let’s not open it. But I need to know what it is first!”

  “Like every other Shaman in Barliona,” the High Mage shook his head condescendingly. “If there is a problem, then its source must be concealed and everything will be better. The world may end a hundred times until even one Free Citizen makes his way into the chambers of the Creator’s Tomb. Geranika, the Heart of Chaos, the servants of the Nameless one—Barliona is in peril of destruction and annihilation every day. Thus, one more source of calamity will merely drown in this morass of doom.”

  “You still haven’t answered,” I went on plying my line. “How does the Tomb of the Creator threaten Barliona? And how do you even know about this?”

  “It doesn’t seem to you that we’ve strayed from our original topic?” The High Mage remained unshakable. “As I recall it, you need a Crastil in exchange for which you offered me the Chess Set of Karmadont. My response to your offer is no. I don’t need the Chess Set.”

  “Crastils can wait, Barliona cannot. What will happen if a Free Citizen enters the Tomb of the Creator?”

  “I believe that our conversation ha
s come full circle,” the High Mage concluded, utterly unwilling to give in. “In that case, I propose we part ways. I have business to attend to.”

  “I am ready to give you the Chess Set of Karmadont if you tell me,” I managed to exclaim before two blue guards that looked exactly like genies could drag me away.

  “When will you understand?” the High Mage halted his genies with a curt gesture. “The Chess Set is only of interest as a full set, with the board included. In any other form, it is little more than some pretty and whimsical figurines, no more.”

  “Do you like the sea?” I uttered involuntary. I wasn’t about to leave the Mage’s place without a Crastil or information about what happened if I entered the Tomb, so I had to play my only trump ace.

  “The sea?” the old man asked with surprise and even looked up from his paperwork. “What does my love for the sea have to do with this?”

  “Like I said, I need a Crastil and information. In exchange, I am prepared to part with this item,” I opened my mailbox, found a letter I had sent to myself with nothing but an attachment, dragged the attachment over to my bag and sent the High Mage a link to it. “This may not be the full Chess Set, but no one in Barliona has something like this.”

  The Giant squidolphin embryo. An item that could easily cost fifty to sixty million if not more. A Unique vessel that must first be nurtured, taken care of, coddled. A ship that would make any clan in Barliona the undisputed master of the seas.

  “I cannot accept this payment, Earl.” For the first time during our conversation, instead of condescension and scorn, I heard a note of profound esteem in the High Mage’s voice. “The Crastil and the information you wish to know are not worth such an item.”

  The Mage stood transfixed by the small cocoon in my hands, while I could barely keep myself from swearing out loud. The NPC turned out to be far smarter than me.

  “I cannot give you my Crastil,” the Mage went on, ignoring my state. “It’s valuable to me as a reminder that not everything in this world is subject to logic and order. However, I can help you. In the process, you will receive an answer to your question about what will happen if a living creature enters the Tomb of the Creator.”