“Beautiful…” Avery muttered as he watched Hilda manipulate dragon dance in her grasp. “Ya know, there’s a prestigious group of guardians that wield blades similar to your own. They fight without heavy armor, rather using their speed and skill with the blade to defend their comrades and overwhelm their foes. In fact, one of the legendary azure wardens used to be one….They call them the blade guardians.”
“That may be something I need to look into… that is, if I’m here for much longer.” Hilda rested the blade on her shoulder, its deep crimson edge accentuated next to her locks of long, blonde hair.
“Finally, one of you has acquired a decent weapon,” a guttural voice uttered from the alcove’s entrance. Both Hilda and I turned to face Morose, who’d seemingly returned undetected.
“Done with your discussions?” I asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow to the cold assassin.
Morose gave a rigid nod. “I am,” he replied. “And now it’s your turn... the Highraven will now see you.”
7
A Raven’s Insight
Tension began to mount as Hilda and I followed Morose down the stone corridor leading to Wesley’s chambers. My heart raced at the thought of going home and seeing my father again, of finally meeting Hilda in the real world and starting something real and pure.
“Should we grab the others?” Hilda said softly into my ear, a look of concern etched into that beautiful face of hers.
“Let’s just see what Wesley has to say,” I replied with all the reassurance I could muster. “If he says it’s time to go home, then we’re not heading back without the others.”
Hilda reached out and gave my hand a solid squeeze before mouthing the words “I love you.” Three words that made everything just a little bit easier. I smiled back and reciprocated with a few words of my own.
Up ahead, Morose paused at the doorway leading to the Highraven’s chambers, then made an abrupt turn down an adjacent hallway that I hadn’t yet traversed. “This way,” the assassin spat, not bothering to look behind to see if we were still following. “The Highraven awaits below.”
We walked in silence down to the end of the stone hall before making our way down a narrow staircase. I was a bit surprised… I had thought we were on the ground level of the Ravenhold outpost, but apparently this place had more levels hidden beneath the surface. What other secrets did this fortress hold?
At the bottom of the winding staircase sat a pair of large, iron doors sealed with an insignia that I hadn’t recalled seeing before. Morose walked towards the door with purpose, removing a glove and placing his slender hand onto the symbol. Lines of red light spread through the iron doors like a network of veins, filling the area with a soft, red light until finally the doors swung open.
And there he was.
Standing in the center of a wide stone chamber was Wesley, his back turned to us as he stood with rigid posture, arms perfectly crossed behind his back. The man now known as the Highraven wore a long, violet cloak that rested over robes blacker than midnight, his hair sitting in tight, black curls atop his head. The Highraven emanated a feeling of regality that seemed to envelop the entire chamber, even if he didn’t so much as bother to turn to regard us… Surely, he had heard the large iron doors swing open.
Slowly, Hilda, Morose and I made our way into the room. The ceiling of the chamber was noticeably high, and the walls were lined with raven-shaped sconces, each holding a flickering red flame.
As we drew closer to the Highraven, the sound of running water reached my ears, accompanied by a slight rumble in the stone floor. Was a source of running water located beneath Ravenhold? That would make sense, given the outpost’s complex plumbing system… Curious, Kord leapt out of my pack and let out a loud croak... apparently, he could hear it too.
“Welcome back, Zander Darkblade, Slayer of Kings.” Wesley’s voice was calm and composed, yet it had this edge to it that I hadn’t heard before. A silence lingered in the air following his greeting before finally, he turned and acknowledged our arrival with a curt nod.
“Wesley,” I replied, giving the man a short bow of my own. Morose grimaced at my apparent lack of respect, but I ignored him. I’d freed Wesley from the Aether prison after all, and he didn’t so much as bother to mention anything about being the damned Highraven then.
“It appears that you have been doing well. Your strength echoes in each passing step.... why, I’d say that your power will soon pass Morose’s.” The assassin let out a grunt but remained vigilant in the presence of the Highraven.
“Perhaps,” I said, taking the opportunity to give the assassin’s ego a quick jab. “But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that if we’re heading home.”
Wesley gave me a quiet nod, then took a calculated step in my direction. “Ah, home. That is why you came running back to me, isn’t it? You’d received word that perhaps I’d finally found a way to send you home?”
A nervous feeling began to swell in the pit of my stomach. “Well, yes,” I replied, meeting his eyes with an unwavering gaze. “That’s why I risked my life to go after Vazryn in the first place.”
“And you did so well,” Wesley lamented. “Better than I ever expected...” He paused, momentarily pondering his next words. “Tell me, Zander, how is your life here in Aetheria?”
I frowned but decided to entertain the man’s question. “It’s... it’s been challenging,” I replied. “I’ve seen people die at my side. I’ve even seen some die by my own hands. I’ve seen creatures more terrible than anything my imagination could think up...”
“And?” Wesley prodded, sensing that I had more to say.
“And I’ve seen some truly wondrous things, I’ve met some amazing people, and I’ve felt more power in these hands than I ever thought I could wield.” The words came out faster than my brain could process, as if they were lying dormant, seeking their opportunity to escape my lips. Perhaps my time in Aetheria hadn’t been as terrible as I thought…
Wesley placed a hand on his chin. “So, you’ve been able to overcome all the danger, all the challenges placed in front of you, and found this world to be remarkable... And yet, you still wish to return home? To Earth?”
“I do,” I replied with feigned confidence. “Aetheria is amazing... but there are things in my old life that I need to face. There are people who need me...” If Wesley was trying to make me reconsider the choices I had before me, it was working…
Wesley nodded as he began to pace about the chamber, arms still crossed behind his back. “And what if there is no returning home, Darkblade? What if this life that you now live is your only life? What then?”
“What?” Hilda gasped in a hushed tone, her fists clenched at her sides.
“Wait... what do you mean?” I stammered. “We’ve done everything you’ve asked. We helped escort a damned corpse back to Ravenhold for you.”
“And I have done what I could,” Wesley snapped back. “I examined every avenue possible to return your soul to the body it once inhabited... but it’s just been too long. The connection is gone. Your soul now permanently rests here on Aetheria, in a body that far surpasses your old one... This is your life now...” Wesley’s words rang with such finality that I couldn’t help but shudder. All of this anticipation, all of this waiting... and for nothing?
“I... I visited my old body once before…” My voice began to crack. “I, I saw my father. It h-has to be possible.”
Wesley shook his head. “Likely a trick of the mind. Think about it, Darkblade. You saw what happened to some of the others, the madness that overcame them. You remember the state that your friend Max was in… You should consider yourself lucky that you weren’t consumed by it yourself... Perhaps it’s a testament, I suppose, to the resilience of your mind.”
Tears began to form in Hilda’s eyes as she collapsed to her knees. “I had so much left to do, so many people that loved me, so much left unsaid...”
“Don’t worry, my dear,” Wesley assured her as he uncr
ossed his arms and placed a slender hand on her cheek. “As your time in Aetheria lengthens, those memories will fade. Those remaining strings attaching your soul to that old life of yours will fray, until one day you’ll wake up and this will be all that you know. It’s better this way, really.”
Hilda remained silent, gazing at the floor with this intense yet absent-minded look in her eyes. It was like she was observing everything and nothing at the same time, as if she’d transfixed her eyes on a gateway to oblivion.
“This... can’t be,” I stammered, blurred visions of my father swirling about in my head. Dammit all, remembering what he looked like was already becoming a struggle.
“It is your reality now,” Wesley replied before crossing his arms once more. “I understand how troubling this all must be to you, Darkblade... I truly do. But you mustn’t let your life on this realm suffer... the roads have grown dangerous, and things must be done if the guild is to remain a dominant force here on the realm.”
“The... guild?” I responded incredulously. This man had just broken the news that my old life was all but lost and he wanted to discuss matters concerning the guild?
“Yes,” Wesley replied coldly. “The iron wolves have already begun making moves against us... coordinated strikes on high-ranking officers, mostly. The drakengard is also amassing a sizable force. They haven’t made any declarations yet, but I can only assume that they aren’t happy that we’ve taken the top spot. And then there’s the tidecallers... merely a wild card at this point, but one to watch out for.”
“I think I’m going to need a little time to process this...” I responded, catching a glimpse of Hilda, who still appeared lost in thought. “I mean, you can’t just expect me to—”
“Inaction will only cause you to fall behind in this world!” Wesley interrupted. “Surely, you don’t want to be weak in this life, just as you were before?”
His words carried this profound sting to them, like sticking a knife into a wound that was already open and festering. “Listen,” I said, my skin growing hot as anger and irritation began to build in the pit of my stomach, “I’ve done everything you’ve asked. Damnit, all I’m asking for is a little time!”
The room fell silent as my words echoed across the stone walls. Hilda went wide-eyed and Morose took a calculated step in my direction, his gloved hand clenched into a fist. “Do not disrespect the Highraven again.”
Wesley quickly took a step forward, raising a hand to halt the assassin’s approach. “Easy, Morose. Darkblade has been through quite a bit... it’s only natural for him to act this way.” The Highraven averted his gaze back to me. “Zander,” he said, purposely referring to me by my first name. “You have achieved something special, something unfounded amongst the other travelers of Aetheria. Your raw affinity for the Aether is at such a high level... why, with the proper sculpting you could become a true Aetherial master!”
“For the guild...” I muttered, giving the Highraven a dark look.
“Yes,” he responded pensively. “For the guild... but also for something even greater. Don’t you want—” Wesley paused mid-sentence as the sound of shouting began to echo down the staircase and into the large chamber. The scrambling of footsteps could be heard above, followed by a loud pounding noise, as if some sort of large beast was leaping about in the upper level.
The sound grew closer as whatever it was began to make its way down the spiral staircase. Hilda, Morose and I all brandished our blades and formed a defensive circle around the Highraven, prepared to fight off whatever monstrous thing approached.
The air grew silent for the briefest of seconds, so quiet that you could hear the drop of sweat release its grip on my chin and fall to my obsidian blade. My familiars stood at attention, teeth bared and ready to strike.
Perhaps one of the other guilds had somehow infiltrated Ravenhold and let some terrible creature loose within the halls. Or perhaps...
Suddenly, one of the large iron doors burst off its hinges as the beast finally made its appearance. Covered in silvery fur, the creature stood an astounding 8 feet tall, razor-sharp claws jutting out of each of its curved fingers. The beast’s head closely resembled that of a wolf, and its eyes were yellow and racked with madness.
So, the iron wolves have sent a beast for us, I thought as the creature sniffed the air, drawing in our scent. My eyes scanned the massive wolf, eager to gain some more information on the beast…
That was just about the time my heart began to sink.
I carefully read the name of the creature that now made its approach, unwilling to believe the words floating on the translucent screen.
Taryn
Lvl 27 Rogue
My eyes hovered over another bit of data...
Legendary Affliction: Curse of the Great Fang
Cursed with the power of the great fang, the afflicted will transform once every seventh cycle of Aetheria’s dual moons. The afflicted will take a wolf-like form, offering them increases to strength, dexterity, constitution, and regeneration. Their skills will also be replaced with skills from the school of the fang. Upon proper training, the afflicted can learn to control the transformation and call it forth at will.
First transformation- Upon transforming into the great fang for the first time, the afflicted will receive a substantial bonus to all physical attributes as the body attunes to the great fang’s power. This temporary boost in strength will make them several times stronger than their actual level.
Dammit all, this wasn’t an attack from the iron wolves... it was Taryn! They must not have treated him in time, and now… dammit all, now he’d gone and turned into a goddamned monster!
“Taryn!” I yelled, holding on to the slightest sliver of hope that my words would get through.
It was no use. Taryn the great fang growled in response, then charged towards the group, claws outstretched in ready to strike. I hastily began to scroll through my skills, quickly trying to formulate a plan that would neutralize the rampaging rogue. I needed to do something, anything that would preserve my ailing friend…
Too late.
To my horror, Morose raised his bastard sword and met the great fang’s charge, drawing back his blade as he prepared for the kill.
8
True Faces
My heart sank as Morose charged the transformed Taryn, blade out and ready to strike. I’d seen the assassin put that sword of his to use before and knew just how deadly he was... Even in a transformed state, Taryn did not stand a goddamned chance.
“Stop!” I yelled, though it appeared to be no use… Neither the assassin nor the beast relented their attack. Taryn was lost in a blood rage, and Morose’s sole purpose was to protect his lord, damn anyone that stood in his way. I guess that left me just one option.
I threw my slayer’s mark on Morose and shadowshifted.
My body materialized from shadow in between the assassin and the massive lycanthrope, likely the most dangerous spot in the chamber. With my right hand I hoisted nevermore into the air, barely intercepting Morose’s vertical strike. With my left hand I reached out as Salence soared into my grasp, taking blade form. I immediately stabbed the dragonblade forward, staving off Taryn’s oncoming assault.
“Move!” Morose growled before spinning on his heel and delivering a powerful kick to my stomach. I slid backwards on the balls of my feet, sucking in air after the assassin’s sudden strike. Without hesitating, I tried to lurch forward and lunge myself back into the fray, but a new status appeared above my health reticle.
Stunned
Dammit all, he’d snuck a skillshot in with that quick attack of his! I looked on helplessly as Morose swung his bastard sword at Taryn, his eyes glowing a faint red as he pressed forward with his attack.
The blade sliced through silvery fur, drawing a line of blood on Taryn’s chest and eliciting a howl from the transformed man. The large wolf responded with a barrage of his own, swiping at Morose nearly half a dozen times with his fury swipes.
; The assassin steeled himself against the wolf’s mighty strikes before staving the beast off with another mighty kick. Immediately he went to work drawing energy into his bastard sword that glowed red like the glint in his eyes. The energy swirled around his weapon like a vortex before melding into the steel itself, giving the blade a red-hot glow.
“Die,” he muttered, then stabbed his glowing blade towards Taryn’s fur-covered chest. I winced, still unable to move from Morose’s stun skill. Taryn would die right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could...
THWACK!
Morose’s blade slammed into Hilda’s aegis shield, deflecting wide as the woman dived in to intercept the assassin just in the nick of time!
“Fool!” he yelled just as Taryn let loose a wild slash, knocking Hilda away as her body slammed into the chamber’s wall. The effects of the stun faded from my body and I launched myself back into the fray. Somehow, I had to find a way to neutralize Taryn while still preventing Morose from shoving a sword through his heart... a nearly impossible task.
Taryn redirected his primal fury back on Morose, slashing away with his massive claws and sending sparks across the room as razor-sharp nails scraped across jet-black armor. I studied the pair for the slightest of seconds... perhaps I was going about this the wrong way. Maybe if I neutralized Taryn, then I could reason with Morose.
Immediately, I activated shadow snare, sending twisting shadows across the floor that ensnared the great fang and held him in place. The lycan roared in protest but the snare held true... at least for now.
Without losing a step, I shadowshifted once more, again placing myself in the path of Morose’s blade, though this time I held my hands out wide, leaving myself vulnerable. “Don’t hurt him,” I pleaded, meeting the assassin’s crimson gaze.
The Blade Guardian Page 5