Eve’s shoulders slumped as she exhaled through gritted teeth. “We’re going to need to hurry back to Lynthia, after all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A Voice in the Mist
THE LATE SUMMER sun was already high in the sky by the time the adventurers embarked on their journey south the next morning, not that they could see it above the leafy canopy. The forest felt lesser, somehow.
Dancing shadows of shifting branches no longer caught Eve’s eye in quite the same way. Little twitches in the brush were lurking beasts no more. As fears went, the dark held little sway before the absolute nightmare she’d felled last night.
No, the fearsome northern woods failed to quicken her pulse or quiver her hands. Her own skin did that plenty.
From time to time as the party walked Eve would raise an arm in front of her, watching as the skin of her neck glowed ethereal light upon it. Her chest pulsed with warmth as the Mana coursed through her. She could only wonder what damage it wrought.
The hours dragged on as Wes set a blistering pace, one Eve was happy to match. The sooner they got home, the better.
The trouble was, after delving below ground in one place and surfacing in another, the party had little idea where exactly they were. The trees provided little in the way of landmarks. Alex navigated generally south by the angle of what sunbeams pierced the canopy, but that would only get them out of the woods. Finding Lynthia again was another matter.
As things were, Eve had an awful lot on her mind when she stepped away from the others to relieve herself in the privacy of a nearby tree. Indeed, so distracted was she by the fire in her chest and the uncertainty of their whereabouts and the mystery of both her quests that she failed to notice the first tendrils of fog that crept in.
It came like a tide, sweeping through the underbrush as it climbed inexorably higher. By the time Eve stood and re-clasped her pants, the mists had reached her waist. Her chest. Her throat.
She Charged! through the brush, her heart racing as the unnatural fog poured in.
“Wes!” she called. “Alex, Preston! What’s going on?”
No reply came.
Eve’s stomach sank. She hadn’t been that far; where had they gone? The mists climbed higher.
She tilted her head up, holding her face above the rising tide as long as she could before it enveloped her. She held her breath.
The world went white as the fog eclipsed her vision, casting the nearest trees and shrubs as no more than dark silhouettes. It was cool against her skin, almost refreshing in contrast to the blazing Mana within her. The glowing cracks upon her exposed neck reflected against the suspended droplets, casting visible beams of light in their jagged pattern.
She took a step forward. Her lungs burned as she wandered through the fog, unwilling to breathe whatever magic had so filled the air. The mists gave her little choice.
She inhaled with a gasp, the moist air coating her throat enough to elicit a fit of coughs. After a moment’s recovery, she called out once more. “Guys? Where are you?”
The voice that answered was none she knew.
“They can’t hear you.”
A figure appeared before her, at first just a shape in the fog. It wasn’t until he stepped closer that she knew him for a man.
There was little by which to identify him. His trousers were plain if a lustrous shade of black, while his shirt and vest were simple cotton. Eve never saw his face as the mists danced and twirled about it.
She Appraised him.
Level ?? The Man of the Mists
Unique Tier ?? Class
“Who are you?” she asked with more confidence than she felt.
The shape tilted its obscured head. “A rather strange question to ask of a man in a mask.”
Eve held her ground, swallowing the growing urge to panic as it welled in the back of her throat. “You’re the one hiding from a level thirty.”
The laughter came from everywhere at once, somehow echoing through the fog when no other sound would. “You have courage. Perhaps they were right about you. Or perhaps you lack the subtlety to realize what a single voice can do.”
Eve certainly didn’t feel courageous. Her hands twitched and her heart raced and the cool mist sent chills down her spine. At least her thoughts were distracted from the warmth in her chest. She fought to keep her gaze level with the strange man. “What do you want?”
“Straight to the point,” the man sighed. “Efficient, if a little boring. Don’t you have something else you’d like to ask about? Or rather, someone else?”
She froze. “What did you do to them?”
Hidden though it was, Eve could practically hear the grin on the man’s face. “That’s more like it. Your friends are unharmed, if perhaps a bit lost. It’s remarkably easy to lose one’s way in the fog. I imagine they’re more worried about you.”
Eve’s shoulders relaxed as a portion of her tension drained away. Whoever this was, he’d come to talk. She considered stepping onto the balls of her feet to Charge! away, but in this fog she’d just as soon run into a tree as actually escape. Besides, if he wanted her dead, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Instead, she replied with another question. “Should they be?”
“Not yet. Not for some time, I’d imagine, and certainly not from me.” The figure stepped closer, the mist around his head swirling ever-denser to keep his face concealed. “You have a ways to travel yet.”
“What do you want?” Eve repeated herself.
“My associates are always on the hunt for promising new talent. Legendary quests don’t come about often, especially ones with as much… flexibility as yours.”
Eve’s eyes widened. “How did you…”
“Know?” A smugness filled the man’s voice. “It’s my business to know, my dear girl. In fact, I’m sure they all know about you and your quest by now. That is, all those who matter.”
The use of the words ‘dear girl’ sent a shiver down Eve’s back. “Those who matter? What are you talking about?”
A chuckle rang out, this time only from the man before her. “What indeed. I’m sure you’re clever enough to realize when there’s a larger game ahand. Your human kingdom is a pawn of a pawn. My associates and I are players.”
Despite the implication of the words and the strength of the man who spoke them, one particular aspect of the speech stood out to Eve. The question left her mouth before she had a chance to stop herself. “Isn’t it afoot?”
“Pardon?”
“The phrase,” she explained. “There’s a larger game afoot.”
“You play chess with your feet?”
Eve paused, realizing the foolishness inherent to correcting the grammar of a man who could murder her with an absent thought. She held her breath.
“You’re a curious one, Evelia Greene. Well suited to the quest you’ve been given.”
“What do you know about that?” she pressed. “You said it was flexible, but I’ve really just been wandering aimlessly and trying to survive.”
“That’s the beauty of it. Your path is unset, and not even I can see where it leads. Such freedom is a gift few ever know. The only price is also the only guarantee: whatever you do, the dangers shall be great and the impact worthy of legend.”
Eve cocked an eyebrow. “That sounds like a really fancy way of saying it’s Legendary but you don’t know why.”
The cackling returned, again from all directions as if the fog itself found humor in the words. “You’d be surprised how often the way you say something holds more sway than the something itself. Eloquence has every right to a place beside wit and strength.”
“Spoken like a man with neither.”
More laughter. “Courage it is, then. You’ll do well in the greater game. When the time comes.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Eve asked. “To recruit me onto your team?”
“Not quite. My faction is but one of many, and more than mine have their eyes on you. The Stones have marked yo
u of interest, and the world has taken heed.”
“I’m not leaving my friends.” Eve held her ground, her heart racing as she outright defied the power before her.
“Even if you were ready, I’m not asking you to. We value loyalty, and I would rather have yours intact. No. There will come a time when your growth outpaces theirs, when one by one the danger of your company turns them away or ends them altogether. Perhaps a few will embrace the risk and find their way to the world at large. Perhaps not. Either way, I’ll be waiting.”
“So you’ve ambushed me in the middle of the woods to tell me you’re waiting for my friends to die off?”
“Nothing of the sort,” the man said. “Others will come with offers and threats and promises and lies, anything to put another piece of their own onto the board. When the time comes, I want you to remember that I was the first to approach you. To reach out and speak with you as an equal. That has to count for something.”
“And if I turn them away? What if my quest is to join one of them, or to leave you all to your squabbles and keep my own friends?”
“That’s your choice.” The voice darkened. “You’re free to live as a pawn if you like, but no matter what you’ll remain on the board. At least with me you’ll know for which color you play.”
“So I can either go work for someone directly or be manipulated into this fight of yours anyway?”
“They said you were clever.”
The man stepped forward, his right hand outstretched. Mist rushed in, condensing in his upturned palm. He closed it, reaching out to place a cold and rigid object in Eve’s own hand. He curled her fingers shut over it. “Think of me,” he said, “when you’re ready to stop being a pawn.”
Eve nodded.
The figure turned, striding away with casual confidence. Just as the fog swept about his dark form, swallowing him up in its pale beauty, he paused. “I wouldn’t tell your companions about our meeting. Especially not her. I know the jealous type when I see it.” Another step and he was gone.
Eve stood alone, breathing in the cool mist as she played through the encounter in her mind. Unless he’d tricked her Appraise somehow, she’d just had a conversation with a living legend. She wondered how high level he truly was, or how he’d managed to unlock a Unique class.
She didn’t know what was wilder: that a being so powerful had sought her out, or that apparently he wanted her help. Or at least her allegiance. She shivered.
Her heart still pounding, Eve carefully opened her hand to see the token he’d left her.
It was a chess knight, white as pearl and cold as steel. Though almost two inches tall, it sat near weightless in her hand. Tendrils of mist flowed off the beautiful piece, another reminder of from whence it’d come.
Eve slipped the knight into her pocket, clinking it against the two copper pieces her mother had given her for the loaf of bread. She wondered if she’d ever get the chance to spend them.
Dismissing the thought with a shake of her head, Eve turned her musings elsewhere. A notification blinked, and she had a bad feeling about what it might mean. The last thing she needed was another secondary quest.
Legendary Quest Milestone Reached: Meet the Man of the Mists!
+4000 exp!
Level Up!
Eve almost let out a sigh of relief when she read the message, a glimmer of joy even blossoming at the level up. Her comfort came crashing down as she realized the implication of the milestone. If the encounter was a milestone, it must mean the man himself was a part of her quest. The knight suddenly felt heavy in her pocket.
“Eve!”
She slammed the status screen shut as Wes’s voice echoed through the fog.
“Eve, there you are!” Three figures materialized before her, a Burning Hand guiding them like a beacon. “Are you alright?”
The Striker nodded. “I’m okay.” She gave Wes her best ‘we’ll talk later’ look before repeating herself. “I’m fine.”
“Good,” the mage said. “This fog is insane.”
As if at his command, the moisture in the air seemed to burn away. Eve smiled as the forest around them revealed itself. “Whatever it was, it’s gone. C’mon guys.” She stepped past them, taking the lead. “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Lynthia Institute for Magical Afflictions
“SO LET ME get this straight,” Wes said from where he sat on the side of his bed in the tight guild quarters, “we spent a half hour wandering around in supernatural fog so some guy could have a private conversation with you?”
Eve rubbed her neck, leaning against the back wall to maintain some amount of personal space. “When you put it like that, it makes it sound so…”
“Overdramatic?”
“I was going to say inconsiderate, but that too.”
Wes shrugged. “You’d think someone that powerful could just… I don’t know, walk up and ask to have a word?”
“He wanted me to keep the meeting secret. Specifically from Alex—said she was the jealous type.”
“Oh shit. Yeah I can see why. You saw how she got when I got my Rare class.”
“No—it’s not like—” Eve struggled to explain. “She’s been through some shit, and I don’t think she’s really recovered.” She shook her head. “That’s not the point. This man of the mists guy didn’t want you all to know about him.”
Wes cocked an eyebrow. “Did he think we just wouldn’t ask where you went in that fog?”
“What are you saying?”
“You basically vanished,” the mage said, “for a long time. And then when you reappeared, you acted like nothing happened. It’s like he wanted you to look like you were hiding something.”
Eve swallowed. “He said I’d have to leave you all behind sooner or later. Maybe he was trying to speed things up.”
Wes’s voice filled with vigor. “That’s not going to happen. You and I are in this together, and if you think Preston is letting you out of his sight, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Eve straightened. “Preston?”
“You aren’t the only one who learned a new secret while we were separated. He asked me not to tell you, but rest assured Preston is here for the long haul.”
“Um… alright.” Eve paused, wondering what exactly Wes meant.
He didn’t give her much time to think. “So what all did your high-level mystery man say?”
“All sorts of vague shit about how Leshk is a pawn of a pawn and there’s a bigger game ahand.”
Wes furrowed his brow. “Don’t you mean a bigger game afoot?”
“That’s what I said! He insisted people don’t play chess with their feet. Actually, he was really fond of his chess analogies.” She reached into her pocket, withdrawing the ivory knight. “He gave me this.”
Wes stared at the tendrils of mist as they wafted off the chess piece. “What does it do?”
“Hells if I know. Appraise just says it’s a ‘token of the mists.’”
Wes snorted. “So he gave you a souvenir.”
Eve chuckled, “Maybe the next guy I meet will give me a bishop. I can put together the most confusing chess set ever seen.”
“So does the token mean he wants you to be his knight or he’s somebody else’s knight?”
Eve rubbed her temples. “It’s open for interpretation? Maybe he just likes horses.”
He rolled his eyes. “It sounds like all we really know is some guy with a Unique class and a flair for the dramatic wants you to work for him once you’ve leveled up a bit more.”
“That—uh—that about sums it up.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“For now? Nothing.” Eve pushed away from the wall to stand fully upright, drawing uncomfortably close to Wes in the process. “Alex and I still need to find someone to help us with the Mana thing, not to mention selling the loot from the dungeon. I can worry about mysterious job offers from creepy mist-men when I have new clothes and my chest isn’t on fire.
”
“Fair point.” Wes pushed to his feet as Eve opened the door out into the hall. “Preston and I can see about selling the dungeon and Mana cores while you find your researcher.”
“Great. I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” Eve paused as she stepped from the small bedroom. “Oh, and Wes? Hold on to a few of those Mana cores. I think I might have a use for them.”
An amused grin crossed the man’s face as he jokingly saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” Eve smirked. “You’re dismissed.”
* * *
A bead of sweat dripped down Eve’s brow as she glanced around the waiting room at the Lynthia Institute for Magical Afflictions. To her left a man curled his face into an agonized snarl as his hair burned with purple fire. Across from him sat a woman with one eye turned obsidian black. Behind her was a pair of teenage girls carefully cradling what appeared to be a horned toad. An Appraise told Eve otherwise.
“This place is depressing,” Alex muttered as she stared at a man with feet at the ends of his arms.
“You can say that again,” Eve replied. “I had no idea there were so many curses running around.”
“It comes with the territory,” the warrior said. “Break into enough ancient crypts and you’re bound to wind up hexed sooner or later.”
Eve shuddered as she watched a bald, sunburnt man vomit into a bucket for the third time. “Remind me never to go wherever he went.”
“Alexandra Reeve?” a nasal voice called from across the room.
The two adventurers shared a look before quietly standing and weaving their way through the busy waiting room to the open door on the other end. A gnome of all things ushered them in.
The examination room clearly displayed the poorly funded state of the place as Eve and Alex sat upon the rough table. The only other furniture was a broken chair and a wooden stepping stool, upon which the Cursebreaker promptly stood.
Without looking up from his clipboard, the hairless bespectacled gnome asked with a tired, monotonous tone, “Where and by what were you cursed?”
This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1) Page 18