“Sota?” Hal asked.
“That fell out of favor too?” Feril sighed. “Sota was the supreme game of the mind. Every political hopeful played it, every Mage mastered it. Masters of Sota could spend years moving their pieces upon the board about with no clear winner.”
There was a long pause, and though Hal couldn’t see Feril, he had the impression that the man was looking at him with pity.
“So much is now beyond,” Feril lamented. “The star was fair once, our magic encircled it like a girdle, but even deep within the Abyss, I can feel the age of the Worldshard. It was once undimmed by the pall that now hangs over this star. Our magicks wane.
“Its once-brilliant crystal-hewn heart flickers fitfully in the dark, a handsbreadth away from ruin. The world is old beyond its age, weary and gray.
“The thirteen great kingdoms lie broken. The forges of glorious Bethris are ashen-cold, no hammers ring from their workshops. No light of star, or sun, or silver moon shall ever shine out from the hallowed halls of Mithtir.
“The golden plate and silver blades of the fair and strong Faldorin knights lay tarnished and broken.” Feril heaved a great sigh. “Forgive me. I must seem like a sentimental fool to you to be rambling about a world you know nothing of.”
In truth, Hal was captivated by what Feril said. A world that existed as a pinnacle of magic and strength was the stuff of legend. Naturally, he would be deeply interested.
Even more so because it seemed he had some scant connection to this group, this awakened group of Mages. “You don’t,” Hal said, shaking his head though he wasn’t sure if Feril could see the motion. “The world sounded beautiful. I would have loved to see it at its height, not in its twilight years.”
“Mithtir is wrong about you,” he said softly. “You are no barbarian who stumbled upon a Kol’thil. I would show you the way out, I have had few to speak of the past glories to in recent centuries. Would you like to hear of the many-pillared halls of Mystora?”
There was something in Feril’s voice, a vulnerability that Hal could not ignore. Whether or not Hal wanted to hear about a world that was now forgotten by history - which he very much did - no longer mattered.
There was no denying that Feril was fond of the world long-since passed away. Hal felt, in a strange way, that it was his duty to bear the tales of those ancient lands. But more than anything, this was a way in which he could give back to Feril in thanks for helping him.
He didn’t have to, and Hal hadn’t expected any aid. But with Feril nearby, he felt comforted. Who was he to deny the man a walk through his memories of a world fair and bright?
“I would love to,” Hal said sincerely.
Where there was a somber loss in Feril’s tone before, now it was replaced by excitement, a fire rekindled.
As they walked, Feril guided Hal through the Abyss.
There were no markers, no points of reference. It was all complete black to Hal, and he had no idea how Feril navigated the lightless place.
Feril regaled Hal with tales of the lost thirteen kingdoms, their names given over to the thirteen Balesian Mages that had been the greatest of their age. Each Mage hailed from a different kingdom, and together they formed the Balesian Council of Mages
His guide’s name wasn’t Feril, but it was all that remained of the ancient kingdom the man had called home. Just as Mithtir was named for his home, and Hirst for hers.
Those names were all that remained of the Elden Days when the mountains were tall and green, the rivers sparkling and bright. Hal listened with rapt attention to each story until, all too soon, Feril stopped.
“Here, I am afraid my young lad, we must part ways,” Feril said.
Hal blinked rapidly as if coming out of a trance. He couldn’t see any difference in this particular area. “I don’t-” As he spoke, a line of golden light gently crested the distance like the dawning of the sun.
After so long in the dark, the brilliant light stung Hal’s eyes. “At least the dawn remains beautiful,” Feril said wistfully. Hal felt a strong hand on his shoulder. “For listening to an old man ramble about days long gone, take this with my thanks.”
A piercing pain shot through his shoulder. Just as Hal was about to cry out, it ceased. Wind blew against his cheeks, he shut his eyes against the brilliance of the rising sun, and stumbled out into the dawning of a new day.
137
The strength fled from his limbs, and suddenly Hal found the ancient pitted stones rising to greet him. Before they could crack into his face, a pair of strong hands caught him and lifted him. “I’ve got you,” Besal said softly.
Hoisting him up onto his shoulder, Besal fireman carried Hal into a nearby building and set him down against a crumbling wall.
“What happened to you?” Besal asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. There was something else there that he had never heard before. It took Hal several long moments to realize what it was.
It was awe.
“I was taken somewhere,” Hal said, his voice raspy and dry. “Dark. The Abyss, they called it.”
“By the Great Old Ones,” Besal swore. “No wonder I could not find you. Do you know how long you’ve been gone?”
A creeping fear crawled up his spine as he shook his head.
“You’ve been missing for three days, we’ve been looking for you this entire time. Me and the bug have been tearing up this city, but you were nowhere to be found. And then as if out of thin air, you appeared.
“If you were in the Abyss, then it all makes sense. The Abyss is the deepest, darkest pit. They put the beasts that cannot be killed within that pit, Hal. Things the powers-that-be never wish to see the light of creation again.”
Panic surged in his chest. Three days? Then the attack would fall that very night. And he was miles away from the Settlement.
As the wave of panic ebbed, it was replaced by guilt.
Guilt over his failure as a leader. As a friend to his companions who trusted in him to return in time.
He didn’t even complete his Quest.
Hal tried to push up to his feet, but he couldn’t find the strength. Besal turned his fiery-red gaze to the side a second before Hal heard the scuttling sound of the Rhino Beetle.
But the creature that ambled through the glaring brilliance of the doorway was unlike anything Hal remembered.
Towering piles of small chests, stacks of books, and collections of treasure were precariously balanced on the Rhino Beetle’s back. Somebody had constructed a shoddy covering with sticks and old tapestries to cover the beetle’s back.
The beetle lifted one leg and twisted it at an improbable angle to remove a sack from its pile of treasure. Besal reached out and grasped the offered sack, opened it, and took out a small vial.
Hal shook his head as Besal tried to offer it to him.
“You need this,” Besal said, a surprising amount of concern in his voice. “I cannot carry you back.”
He was telling the truth. Hal hadn’t noticed it at the time, but looking at Besal now he noticed the thinness of the man’s form. He was barely a shade now. The strong hands that had helped him up and delivered him into the building were faded and worn.
Venturing out into the bright sunlight had sapped a great deal of Besal’s strength. That, coupled with the lengthy absence from Hal’s side, had culminated in the shade standing before him.
That Besal would be tending Hal seemed the deepest of ironies. He found that he relied on Besal, trusted him without hint of suspicion.
Even more odd was the sensation of like mind that he felt from Besal. Something had changed in both of them, though Hal didn’t understand what at that moment, and he didn’t have time to ponder it.
His thoughts were on the Settlement.
He pushed aside his notifications, hardly alarmed to find many pending from the days he wandered in the Abyss without access to his magic or the System it seemed.
I should have asked Feril about that, I should have asked a lot of questions, he
chided himself. But there was something about the Abyss, the way it warped time and space. It certainly didn’t feel like Feril had talked for 3 days.
Besal held out the potion with greater urgency. “I said you would get back to your friends. Do you mean to make me a liar?”
Once again, Hal shook his head and reached out to lay his hand atop Besal’s. He pushed the potion and the helping hand away. “Communion,” he rasped.
Besal looked at him as if he had just gone insane. And perhaps he had. There was something different about him, deep inside. He didn’t have the time to examine it in detail, but he was sure the Abyss had left its indelible mark.
“You barely withstood it last time,” Besal said. “Can you even stand?”
Digging deep within himself - he was beginning to understand the meaning of the ridiculous jock-phrase he once derided - Hal reached out and grasped Besal’s forearm. “I am not asking.”
Something shifted behind Besal’s crimson, fuming eyes.
Besal bowed his head in acquiescence and set down the potion bottle. Besal placed his free hand over Hal’s and shut his eyes. “Breathe,” he intoned. “Take the darkness within you, make it part of you. Feel the connection that burns between us.”
Hal closed his eyes as well and rested the back of his head against the cold stone wall. Besal’s words pulled Hal deep into darkness, but it was nothing like the first time.
He could see in that abyssal black.
A fuming, roiling mass of darkness draped illusory curtains of magic like a spider’s web. Hal saw it all before his eyes, the reality of the illusion just beneath.
Hal was not sent back to his old life, but mired in the now. The illusion brought him to the present, he realized. The darkness cast about, plucking memories of his friends, his allies, and the places he had been.
Every recent memory, save the ones from the Abyss.
The Settlement surrounded him. His friend’s faces turned to him in joy and victory. They were home. He could feel the insinuation worm its way into his mind, but it couldn’t stick. Nor could it remove the reality he knew to be true.
He could not forget the Abyss. The darkness that was deeper than anything this shade could produce. It dawned on him that he would have walked that pit forevermore without Feril’s guidance while his friends - his family - fought and died thinking he had abandoned them.
Looking at the farce playing out around him, he could see the roiling darkness’ intent. He dismissed it with a thought.
Reaching his hands out, Hal ripped at the curtains of illusion strung up around him. The darkness recoiled, but it didn’t realize its doom until Hal plunged his grasping, clawed hand into its fuming black heart.
“You cannot!” it cried.
Hal felt the darkness shrink before him. He felt oddly calm. Certain in his actions. Pulling the roiling mass closer, he said, “I have seen true darkness. You are not it. Release us.”
While Hal had shredded through his illusion, Besal was still trapped within his. Hal could see it as clearly as a stage filled with props, with Besal as the lead actor.
He was tempted with overwhelming power. Mockeries of Great Old Ones appeared to suggest that Besal could take control of his host. That they both would be better off for it, stronger.
That they were even trying to convince him was a marked change from Besal’s earlier selfishness, Hal realized. They were appealing to Besal’s new fondness for Hal instead of his contempt.
Offering to empower them both, to include Hal in the deal, suggested that Besal cared more for Hal than either of them were probably consciously aware. It hardly seemed like a competition for control over a single body anymore.
If anything, it was a partnership.
Hal had to admit, he was fascinated by what the darkness thought it could tempt Besal with. This wasn’t just a test for Hal, but both of them. Had Besal watched Hal struggle within his first trial as he now did to Besal?
He may have been content to watch and see how Besal dealt with the promises of everlasting power. They could no longer grant him immortality as Hal already had that, and by extension, so did Besal.
But when they began to torture Besal, when they caused him pain, Hal tightened his fist on the heart of the darkness. “Release him, or so help me….”
“I cannot!” the darkness cried, fear quaking through its previously judgmental voice. “The Dark Communion is sacrosanct!”
Hal released the cloud of black and strode away toward Besal as he thrashed and fought against the cruel lashes of his tormentors. Blades of darkness struck him, bloodied spears pulled back, and stabbed him again.
And still, Besal did not relent.
When Hal came upon him, he ripped the illusions with his bare hands. He shredded the tormentors. Their blades he broke, their spears were bent and blunted.
From the murk of Besal’s personal torment, it was Hal’s strong hands that pulled Besal to his feet and steadied him. The darkness swirled around them, clearly agitated.
Hal had expected - hoped for, really - the look of gratitude from Besal. But he did not expect the sudden embrace the man gave him. Like a long-lost brother, Besal wrapped his arms tightly around Hal’s back.
Without thinking, he returned the embrace in kind. Besal’s dark, wounded form slowly seeped into Hal’s until they were once more whole.
Power flowed through Hal’s weary limbs. He turned his own burning gaze toward the darkness, his eyes releasing fumes of sapphire light.
The darkness fled before him.
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Class Quest Update: Dark Communion
Twice now, you have successfully completed your Dark Communion with Besal. Your Synchronization is all but complete. Even without the final Dark Communion, you are now capable of tapping into power previously withheld. Complete what you began.
Objectives
Perform the final Dark Communion with Besal.
Perform Communion of Antiquity (Completed).
Perform Communion of Temporality (Completed.)
Preserve Hal’s life.
Preserve Besal’s life.
Additional objectives available.
Gain a Synchronization of 50% (Completed).
Gain a Synchronization of 75% (Completed).
Gain a Synchronization of 100%.
Rewards
Enhanced Strain limit.
Enhanced Beastborne abilities, spells, and skills.
Access to Beastborne Zenith: Delirium.
Additional rewards available.
Essence Siphon Unlocked.
Essence Tier +1.
Hal looked around, his eyes adjusting to the world around him. He was still in the building Besal had brought him to. The Rhino Beetle was rummaging about, carefully managing to scavenge materials and put them on its back.
The temporary surge of strength after combining with Besal left him stronger than he had been, but still weak. Hal leaned over and grabbed the potion Besal had tried to give to him before.
The liquid inside was not the typical red, but rather a shimmering purple. It was an [Elixir], and one of considerable quality by the looks of it.
He broke the wax seal and downed it in one go. The liquid inside burned his throat so badly he couldn’t even taste it. Before his coughing fit subsided, his flagging HP was recovered, as was his MP.
Leveling Up was a last resort. He needed a veritable mountain of EXP to Dominate as many monsters as possible to aid in the Settlement’s defense that night. If only he could get there in time.
Strength flowing once more, Hal dropped the empty bottle to the ground and stood up. He had to get back to the Settlement, but the journey would take at least a day, perhaps more.
He didn’t have days. As he stepped out into the brilliant light of late morning, he realized he had several hours at best. And only then if the Shiverglades waited until it was literally dark out before attacking.
And he still hadn’t finished the final Dark Communion.
&
nbsp; When he tried to rouse Besal, there was no response. It was nothing like being in the Abyss. Besal was there, just asleep.
Or whatever it was magical beings did when they shut out the world around them.
Seeing that Hal was up, the Rhino Beetle obediently shuffled after him. Looking at him reminded Hal of an old video game character from his childhood. He smiled at the creature. “I think I’ve finally found a name that fits you,” he said.
The beetle looked up at him curiously.
“Beedle.”
If the Rhino Beetle liked it, he didn’t show it. Then again, if he hated it, he didn’t show that either. He simply took it as a matter of course.
Beedle shuffled up alongside Hal out into the light of the Ruins of Citra.
Hal looked over at Beedle and said, “We might as well get a move on.”
With Beedle’s help, Hal found the way out of the ruins. Where he had appeared from the Abyss was unfamiliar to him. Luckily, Beedle seemed to know the way out from all his scavenging alongside Besal.
Ever since he emerged from the Abyss, there was a dull ache in his chest right over his heart. At first, he had thought it was an injury from his fight with the Voidbolger.
But having healed himself back to full, the ache persisted.
Carefully rubbing the area showed no tenderness or increase in pain. He had no debuff that he could find, though he did have a series of notifications awaiting his attention.
He followed Beedle, with [Emissary] in hand, out of the Ruins of Cirta. Only once they were out of the ancient kingdom did Hal relax and allow himself to look at the prompts.
You defeat the [Voidbolger].
You defeat [Copper Mage Renthor].
You gain 20,000 Experience Point.
You earn 2,000 Sparks.
You gain a Copper Kol’thil.
Hal stopped walking, Beedle paused a few paces ahead and scuttled about to face Hal. Seeing that nothing was amiss, Beedle turned back to peer into the forest around them. The silver rings stuck in the trees glinted in the morning light like the sharpened edges of a dozen falling blades.
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