The Adept Archives: Volumes 1-3

by Darren Hultberg Jr

  The light adept made it about five paces from the lake before she was stopped in her tracks, cut off by Yoshiro’s runic fishing rod.

  “Wait,” the old man beckoned, his voice now soft like the wind. “And observe...”

  Suddenly, a massive spike in spirit energy assaulted their senses, a power that resonated from somewhere near the bottom of the lake. A mere breath later the surface of the lake began to solidify as a thin layer of ice began to spread, covering the body of water until it was completely solid.

  The Sky Wolves watched in silence, prodding the lake with their spirits as the energy within continued to grow. The spiritual pressure in the area began to strengthen as the swell of power grew closer to the lake’s surface. Whatever awaited them beneath the sheet of ice was on the brink of breaking through.

  Remley clenched his fists and watched with anticipation as the giant sheet of ice began to crack, as waves of familiar energy began to ripple across the surface. The energy grew in intensity, reaching a violent crescendo as the lake’s frozen surface shattered and spires of ice rose into the sky.

  Standing atop the centermost spire was a man enveloped in icy blue aura, a solemn expression on his face. His eyes, one blue and one green, gazed off into the distance as if he were peering into a future that would soon feel his might.

  Remley let out a jubilant cheer, raising a fist to the man atop the icy pedestal and his newly formed Tidal Fury body. Despite Remley’s worst fears, his tenacious pupil had done it. He’d defied death, escaped a watery grave and ascended to a level that now matched Remley’s own...

  Roy Skyworth has emerged a Spiriteka.

  Chapter 6

  Pursuit of Knowledge

  Outside Yoshiro’s Cabin, Northern Eon

  Roy stood atop the pillar of ice and basked in his newfound glory. Thanks to a little help from his spirit scan, he’d been able to reach rank three and achieve a level of power he’d only dreamed of. His skin, once soft and pliable, was now hard like steel. And even more amazing was the strength he felt resonating within his body. Roy felt like he had the power to punch through a stone wall, that he could leap to the top of Aethrune Academy in a single bound. His trials had been grueling, and he was almost certain that he’d nearly died... but damn was it ever worth it.

  //////////

  Adept Rank 3 achieved

  Physical strength has greatly increased

  Spirit aura has increased

  Your body has been reforged with the Tidal Fury Imbuing!

  Affinity for water aura has greatly increased

  Enhanced physical capabilities unlocked

  Enchanted physical senses unlocked

  Compiling data...

  Compiling...

  A new technique is available in the void manual. Would you like to upload?

  //////////

  Before Roy could proceed any further, the joyous cries of Remley managed to yank him out of his thoughts. He blinked away the translucent display, deciding to delve into his manual a bit later then turned to acknowledge his mentor.

  At the lake’s edge, he spotted not only Remley but the entirety of the Sky Wolves, along with the old water adept that had helped make his advancement possible. Even from this distance, he could sense their spirits. He could feel Kimoura’s newfound strength. He could feel the pride in both Quinn and Leila... and was that anger he felt in Yoshiro?

  Slowly Roy’s gaze shifted from his small group of onlookers, following a trail of ice as it made its way from the lake and ended in the form of a giant, icy spire jutting out of the man’s house. From what Roy could sense, his divine energy had been drawn to the water residing inside the old man’s cabin. It had danced its way through the natural channels in the earth, making its way into his cooking pot, his waterskins, even his cup of tea. It resonated in the center of his cabin, drawing from its many sources before transforming it into a spire that nearly destroyed the cabin in its entirety.

  “What in Eon have you done to my home?!” the old man roared, his spirit aura flaring as a pair of twin water serpents formed in his presence.

  Roy leapt from his icy pillar, soaring through the air with the grace of a leaf in the wind. He landed mere feet away from Yoshiro, quickly placing his palms together in a sign of forgiveness. “I’m... a, sorry that-“

  THWACK!

  Roy’s apology was brought to a sudden halt as Yoshiro spun on his heel and smacked his fishing pole down atop the adept’s head.

  Roy glared at the man as he clutched the top of his head. “What the hell was that for, old man?!” he spat, his voice full of rage.

  Yoshiro matched his anger with a look that was equally venomous. “I help you advance despite my own wishes, and you repay me by destroying my house?!”

  “I’ve had this power for five minutes!” Roy growled. “How do you expect me to control it?!”

  The water serpents swirling around Yoshiro snapped their maws, echoing their creator’s anger. “You damned foolish outrealmer! I should kill you for-“

  “Boys. Boys.,” Remley pleaded, snaking his way in between the men and placing a palm on each of their chests. “Can’t we agree that neither man meant the other any harm? Besides, the veil is nearly upon us and it would be in everyone’s best interest if we found some cover.”

  Yoshiro crossed his arms over his chest and gave Remley a glare that could make a dragon shudder. “And where do you suggest I take shelter with a pillar of ice jutting out of the center of my home?”

  Suddenly Remley’s face stretched into the wisest of grins. “Well, you could scribe some of those cloudcast runes of yours on our ship and ride with us to Shadowreach. We can catch up just like old times!”

  The old adept’s gaze shifted, lingering on each member of the Sky Wolves before it finally rested on Remley once more. “You’re despicable. You do know that, don’t you?” Yoshiro said. A breath later his shoulders slumped, and his water serpents were withdrawn back into his spirit aura. “And I fully expect you to repay me for every single thing you’ve destroyed. Now go clear out the largest room in the ship while I throw together some runes.”

  “What do you need the room for?” Leila asked, her hands now pressed firmly on her hips.

  Yoshiro sighed. “What do you think, girl? It’s for me to sleep in!”

  Roy’s eyes went wide as he felt Leila’s aura flare like a tempest... This was going to be an interesting trip.

  ****

  The next day of travel went by without incident... Well, depending on one’s definition of incident. Yoshiro and Leila nearly got into a brawl when the man demanded that she relinquish her captain’s quarters. Thankfully, Remley managed to talk him into lodging with the rest of the crew, so long as Remley gave him a larger cut of their next dungeon dive.

  After that, the ship was swarmed by an entire flock of aura-leeching felbats. Despite the vessel being well masked behind Yoshiro’s runes, the creatures had still managed to stumble upon on the ship through a bit of luck. However, they were no match for a crew of five spiriteka.

  Roy put his marksmanship on display, blasting several of the beasts out of the sky with his aura bullet. And combined with Remley’s fireballs, Leila’s spiritlances, Yoshiro’s twin water serpents, and Kimoura’s concentrated light blasts, the darkbeasts were decimated in mere moments. Even Quinn, whose techniques were most closely focused on melee combat, managed to knock a few beasts out of the sky. By forging a bow out of aura, the dread stalker was able to launch powerful arrows of bone through the creatures... an inventive technique that had been inspired by Roy’s own ingenuity.

  Once the darkbeasts had been dealt with and the veil eventually lifted, the trip had actually been quite smooth. The Blazing Falcon soared north for the remainder of the next day, passing over a long stretch of mountains that seemed to resonate with an energy that gave Roy the creeps. A short time later, the airship approached a sight that left the void adept in absolute awe...

  Just ahead was a massive cityscape sp
anning several times the size of Atherune. Surrounded by a thick black wall of stone, the city featured a vast array of darksteel towers that reached towards the heavens, sprawling complexes that could house thousands, and a network of cobblestone roads so large that it looked more like a maze than a metropolis. The city was larger than anything Roy had ever seen, like a city-state built within the confines of Eon’s northern barrens... it was amazing.

  “There she is,” Remley said, placing an arm around Roy’s shoulders as the pair gazed over the edge of the ship’s deck. “Welcome to Shadowreach.”

  ****

  Varyon Risen, former assassin of the Thousand-legged Spiders guild sat alone amongst the shadows. At his back sat a small, wooden cottage, it’s roof split open by a massive, icy spire and its walls crumbling from age. And in front of him, somewhere beyond the veil’s obscuring mists... sat the Sky Wolves.

  It had been nearly ten cycles of the worldstar since Varyon had begun following the Wolves’ airship and its crew, though the ache in his muscles made it seem like much longer. When the ship took to the skies Varyon would follow, riding atop a flying silver sword. The blade was the size of a claymore, though it wasn’t built for combat. No, the sword was a tool crafted with powerful wind runes that allowed the user to soar through the skies atop its blade... that is, at the expense of the user’s spirit energy.

  That windblade was a valuable tool that Varyon had... acquired, though its speed paled in comparison to the Sky Wolves’ airship and its drain on his spirit was intense. As a result, Varyon was forced to meditate when the ship remained idol, channeling his aura to try and recoup whatever energy he had lost. It was a grueling ordeal and one that consistently left him a day or two behind the airship, but Varyon Risen needed answers... answers he was certain that the man in the red coat could give him.

  With a sigh, the temporal adept rose from his cross-legged position and began to make his way towards the front of the cottage. The building sat on the outskirts of a small crystalline lake... well, what used to be a lake. Recently the body of water had been transformed into a collection of jagged, icy pillars that now melted in the heat of the worldstar. Varyon has nearly passed by the area en route to Shadowreach. However, a residual aura resonating from within the ice had quickly caught his interest... the divine energy of the adept, Roy Skyworth.

  After a bit of investigating, Varyon was certain that whatever strange scene he’d stumbled upon had been a direct result of the Sky Wolves. The lifeless bodies of several ape-like spirit beasts lay scattered about the area, their soul essence drained, and their flesh torn apart by a number of powerful techniques.

  Varyon placed a hand on his chin, pondering the reason why his prey would stop to destroy such an odd, little establishment. Perhaps more answers lied within the cabin’s broken walls.

  Peering through the window of the crumbling cottage, he spotted a number of crude-looking tools, old spiritcrafting components, a fisherman’s tackle box that was now empty, and the remnants of what looked to be a crafting circle etched into a now broken table. The rest of the home appeared to have been torn asunder by Roy’s icy spire.

  Nothing... Varyon thought to himself. At least, nothing he could see from outside. Why on Eon had the crew made this stop when they were so close to Shadowreach, and what had spurred them to leave such wanton destruction behind?

  Curious, Varyon moved forward with the silence of a practiced assassin, creeping towards the nearby window before placing his hands on the foggy sheet of glass. Slowly, he spread his fingertips as a pulse of temporal energy began to build in his palms. With a short, focused blast he could shatter the window while slowing the descent of the glass, allowing for silent entry into the house. After living as an assassin for so long, it just seemed so unnatural to use the front door.

  His focus began to build as temporal aura channeled into his hands and the glass cracked beneath his palms...

  Suddenly, Varyon paused as something sparked his spiritual sense. He turned just as a wave of shadowy tendrils burst out of the nearby tree line, snaking towards the adept like a den of vipers let loose on their prey. Varyon acted on instinct, responding with a burst of temporal energy to slow the shadow’s approach. Unfortunately, he wasn’t prepared for the secondary assault coming from above.

  Swirling coils of shadow snaked past Varyon’s guard and smashed into his chest, blasting him through the flimsy wooden wall at his back and leaving him sprawled out across the crumbling cabin’s floor. Immediately, the temporal adept leaped to his feet and fell into battle stance, his aura flaring as his spirit energy formed into a defensive barrier around his body.

  Varyon steeled himself as the tendrils of shadow began to pour in through the hole in the wall, blocking out the worldstar’s rays. He hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of his attacker, but he was certain he knew who had given him chase. It was only a breath later when his suspicions were confirmed.

  The shadowy tendrils swelled mere feet in front of him, taking the shape of a large, black sarcophagus before melting away and leaving a man in its wake. Standing in front of Varyon, dressed in a tunic black as night and sporting a curved silver blade was an adept that he knew all too well... Wrath, shadow assassin and guild officer of the Thousand-Legged Spiders.

  Word of Varyon’s defection must’ve already reached Lord Blackstar…Oh, how it must’ve stung at him to learn of his prized pupils’ betrayal. It only made sense that he sent one of his dogs to finish him off.

  “Long time no see old friend,” Wrath said as shadowy tendrils danced around his form. The man’s voice was warm, a stark contrast to the scowl on his face and the intense glare in his left eye. Wrath’s right eye, no longer usable, was covered by an ornate leather eyepatch embedded with a tiny red spiritstone at its center.

  Varyon met the man’s glare with a frightening gaze of his own, quietly extending his temporal aura out with each passing breath. “There’s no need to start with formalities now,” he said. “We were never friends.”

  “Oh, I know,” Wrath replied. His voice quickly growing frigid. “And that’ll make killing you all the more satisfying. Lord Blackstar was foolish to favor you... a fallen guard of the Steel brotherhood. Though I must admit it, his extra attention to you has worked out in my favor. With the undying wraith flowing through your spirit, I’ll get the chance to slay you over and over...” Wrath paused as a wicked grin stretched over his face. “You know, I’ve always wondered if the wraith can bring you back if I cut off your head.”

  Varyon’s heart began to race, though not because of the shadow adept’s threat. “Wait, what did you say?” he asked, his tone a bit more eager than he would’ve liked. Just how much did Wrath know about his past? And what in Eon did he know about the Steel Brotherhood?

  Wrath openly mocked Varyon, revealing a grin so venomous that it nearly sent the adept into a fit of rage. “Is that why you’ve broken your pact with the spiders? To embark on some self-righteous for truth?” The shadow adept shook his head in apparent dismay, causing his shadow aura to ripple. “Well, I could’ve helped you with that. The truth is that you are nothing but a worthless soul destined for the lowest levels of the underworld. Lord Blackstar was foolish enough to believe that there was potential in you, but I’m-“

  Suddenly Wrath’s speech came to an abrupt halt as every muscle in his body was assaulted by a blast of temporal energy. Varyon knew that he was sorely outmatched by Wrath, a sixth-ranked Spirikai with the spiritual power to shatter the peaks of mountains. However, the temporal adept had two things working in his favor... an element of surprise afforded by his temporal aura, and an unyielding rage burning in the pit of his soul.

  Blue waves of spirit energy poured from Varyon’s body, enveloping Wrath and holding him fast as if he’d been frozen in ice. His shadowy tendrils, once writhing like serpents, now slowly retreated back into Wrath’s aura, reeling against the unnatural passage of time. For the briefest of seconds, it appeared the Varyon had his opponent trapped...
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  Then Wrath unleashed the full power of his spirit aura.

  Varyon’s temporal sphere shattered as dark tendrils of shadow darted past his defenses, wrapping his body so tightly that he couldn’t so much as draw a breath. In an instant, the shadowy tendrils launched the adept upwards, smashing him into what remained of the ceiling before whipping him into the wood floor. Wrath repeated the process three more times until Varyon laid broken in a small crater, lines of blood decorating the broken wood floor.

  “Such a pitiful creature,” Wrath said as he recalled his shadows, carefully melding them with his fingertips as he prepared for a final assault. The harsh truth was that Wrath was a Spirikai, an adept that had tempered both his body and his spirit. His abilities far surpassed Varyon’s, and with that kind of power, the only path that the temporal adept had to victory was with an extraordinary amount of luck.

  Slowly Varyon shifted in his small, man-sized crater, eyeing Wrath with hate-filled eyes as the man crafted a spear made completely of shadows. The rage in the pit of his stomach compelled him to attack, to lash out at the shadow adept with every bit of spirit energy he had left. And yet, in his mind, he knew that all to be senseless. He had to survive... he had to uncover his own personal truth. And once he did... well, then he would have his opportunity to decimate those that had done him wrong.

  “Relinquish your soul,” Wrath growled before launching his spear of shadows at Varyon. The technique tore through the air, moving so fast it was as if it were ripping a hole in the void itself. A breath later the spear plunged through Varyon’s stomach, causing the man’s spirit to shudder and blood to pool at the corners of his lips. It was almost a certainty that a Spirikai technique of that caliber would claim another of Varyon’s many lives... just not yet.