Legacy of the Fallen

by Luke Chmilenko

  The burning energy continued to pour into my body, causing my vision to turn crimson as an unfathomable torrent of anger swelled from somewhere deep inside me. Reeling from the unexpected wave of emotion, I looked down at Lazarus as if I stood somewhere outside of my own body, seeing his flailing arm knock my hand free of its grip around his throat.

  Immediately I felt the searing rush of fire vanish from my arm, leaving only the energy that I had already absorbed roiling inside me, causing my veins to burn as it looked for a way out. Staggering half a step away from Lazarus, I saw red letters appear in my vision notifying me of my new condition.

  You have absorbed energy from a [Sigil of Rage]!

  You have gained the temporary buff [Sigil of Rage]!

  You gain +10 to Strength and Agility, but will suffer 10 points of damage per second for the next 15 seconds!

  What the hell did I just absorb? I asked in a mental panic, trying to make sense of what was happening to me as the energy raging twisted inside me, a crimson veil falling over my vision.

  A shout from Lazarus brought me back to the present as the half-giant shot to his feet and lunged forward, the red aura surrounding him intensifying. Moving faster than I thought possible, I rushed to meet his attack, any thought for strategy lost in the haze of rage that now consumed me.

  I felt Lazarus’s fist smash into my face as we collided into one another, the blow causing my head to twist awkwardly to one side while I simultaneously drove my knee into his groin. Pain was strangely absent as I recovered from the attack and swung my head back towards Lazarus, my fist coming up in a savage uppercut, catching him on the chin, only to have him shrug it off and backhand me away.

  Fighting like savage animals, we pummeled one another wildly, both of us lost in the grip of an all-consuming rage. The booming echo of thunder overhead drowned out our cries as anger fueled fists bruised flesh and in more than one case, cracked bone. Anyone who had looked up from Crater Lake at that moment would have seen the two of us, fighting at the very edge of the ridge, where one misstep could send someone plunging down into the lake below.

  But despite the energy that coursed through us, our bodies still had limits, and before long, the two of us found ourselves pressed right up against them, the burning rage that had consumed us fading away, leaving us both collapsing down to our knees in pain.

  “Had enough?” I wheezed, spitting out a mouthful of blood as the haze that had filled my vision faded away, leaving me feeling completely spent and wondering what had just come over me.

  “Never,” Lazarus gasped as he tried to force himself back up onto his feet but failed. “As long as I’m alive, I’ll still fight.”

  “You don’t need to fight me, Lazarus,” I replied, grimacing in pain as all the injuries from our brawl reasserted themselves now that the strange energy I had absorbed from Lazarus was gone. “What the hell is a Sigil of Rage?”

  “A curse. A gift,” the half-giant said vaguely as he attempted to push himself off the ground for a second time, this time managing to rise shakily to his feet. “It’s what started all of this, in a way…”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, struggling to get up off the ground as Lazarus took a step towards me, his feet sliding dangerously close to the edge of the ridge.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he answered with a shake of his head as he continued to stagger forward. “I’m sorry about this, Lyrian, but I really don’t have a choice.”

  “So am I, Lazarus,” I said, watching the man’s step as he advanced towards me, my muscles slowly tensing for action. “You do what you feel you need to do, but there’s one thing that you should keep in mind.”

  “I’m all ears,” he grunted half-heartedly as he raised his fists once more.

  “If I go down…” I began, watching Lazarus’s one working eye widen in surprise as I suddenly sprang forward at him. “I am damned going make sure I take you with me.”

  “What—” Lazarus managed a single gasp as I ducked under his reflexive punch and leaped on top of him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  Moving faster than he could react, I used the momentum of my leap to swing my legs past the half-giant and pull him off balance, causing his feet to slide out from under him.

  The two of us plummeted off the ridge.

  I barely had enough time to process my second fall into Crater Lake as Lazarus flailed wildly in my grip before the two of us hit the water with a thunderous splash. Tangled up in one another, we immediately began to sink, the faint light around us vanishing. Thrashing desperately in an attempt to break my grip, Lazarus’s head spun to face me, his one eye wide with shock as I grabbed hold of his hands and wrapped my legs around his chest allowing our combined weight to take us down into the depths of the lake.

  I’ll drown us both if that’s what it takes. I stared back into Lazarus’s eye without blinking as he began to struggle harder and harder the deeper that we sank. I felt myself being thrown around as he twisted under me, unable to find the proper leverage to break free, his motions gradually working up into a frenzy. Hanging on for dear life for what seemed like ages, I eventually saw a flashing notification appear in the corner of my vision, alerting me of just how much air I had left in me.

  Oxygen Remaining: 49/100

  Not much longer left, I thought as the number slowly began to tick down, and my lungs began to burn. Seconds later, I felt Lazarus go slack in my arms, all fight suddenly going out of his body, causing me to look down at him in surprise.

  Staring back up at me in resignation, I saw the defeated gaze of the half-giant meet my eye, then shake his head before motioning up to the surface with his chin. Wary that he might be trying to trick me, I looked back at him blankly for several heartbeats, only to have him blink twice at me, before closing his eye in acceptance.

  Sinking through the water peacefully, Lazarus and I continued our slow descent towards the bottom of the lake as I weighed his sudden change in attitude, the man having completely given up on resisting.

  Don’t make me regret this, Lazarus, I thought towards the man as I let go of his wrists and saw his eye open in response. Pointing upwards towards the surface with one hand, I untangled myself from the man and kicked myself away from him before starting the ascent.

  Racing against time, I then turned my attention away from Lazarus and clawed my way upwards, my vision beginning to narrow as my lungs used up the last bits of air stored inside them. Every stroke brought me closer to the surface until it seemed like it was only inches away, a last-ditch kick propelling me the final distance, my head breaking free of the water.

  Sucking in a deep, life bringing breath of air, I felt my head spin as I filled my lungs, my cloudy vision restoring itself with every gasp I took. Splashing wildly as I trod water, I saw Lazarus’s head break the surface a short distance away from me, his cough echoing over the water.

  “Fine,” he panted after he had a chance to regain his breath. “You can have it.”

  “Your feed?” I asked, swimming closer towards him.

  “Yeah,” Lazarus clarified, resignation clear in his voice. “My feed.”

  “All of it?” I couldn’t help but confirm, despite feeling a sense of relief shoot through me. “Including what you told us about Stanton.”

  “All of it,” Lazarus confirmed. “But Stanton’s portion is still locked for a few more days…”

  “That’s fine,” I replied, having already expected that to be the case. “We can wait.”

  “There’s something else you should know too, Lyrian,” Lazarus said to me. “Before you watch the feed, so you’re not surprised…”

  “What is it?” I queried, feeling a sense of unease at Lazarus’s words.

  “Sawyer, Ransom and I are all members of a Thieves Guild in Eberia,” he told me, his head barely bobbing above the surface as he spoke. “And everything that’s happened in Eberia is our fault.”

  “W-what do you mean?” I questioned, taken aback by Lazarus’s revelatio
n. There are Thieves’ Guilds in Eberia?

  “The Noble Houses being at everyone’s throats, the chaos in the city, all of it,” Lazarus said, his eye staring at me intently as he spoke. “All of it is our fault.

  “We caused it.”

  Chapter 21

  Wednesday, March 13th, 2047 - 6:27 am

  Aldford – The Crafting Hall

  “Oh, damn it!” I cursed angrily as I looked down at the ragged length of snakeskin that I had just ruined, my mind having slipped away from the task at hand for the briefest moments. “That was the last piece too!”

  With a sigh, I set down my knife and reached out to grab the ruined mass of leather and threw it into my inventory without a second thought. I’ll deal with that later when I don’t constantly have yesterday on my mind.

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I brought up my hands and rubbed my face, admitting to myself that the bombshell that Lazarus had dropped on me had left me unsettled, going as far to infect my mood this morning, leaving me making silly mistakes. For what had to be the hundredth time, I brought up my quest log, reviewing the latest update that had appeared after my savage brawl with Lazarus.

  Quest Update! Statecraft, Deception and Veracity!

  After showing Lord Stanton both of the Nafarrian ruins in the region, you decided to confront him about his arrogant behavior and to reinforce your claims to the ruins. This prompted an argument between the two of you, resulting in you banning Stanton from the ruins, which eventually forced Lazarus to intervene and escort Stanton away before it escalated even further.

  Several hours later, on Lazarus’s request, you met up with him on the outskirts of Aldford, where the two of you had heated argument of your own which eventually descended into violence. After a vicious brawl, you managed to subdue Lazarus, which prompted him to reveal to you that he and his companions are criminals belonging to a Thieves Guild and are directly responsible for the unrest that has gripped Eberia.

  With this latest revelation you understand a bit more of Stanton’s treatment of Lazarus and his companions. However, you can’t help but question just how truthful either of them are being anymore.

  Collect more information before making a decision!

  Evidence supporting the Adventurers’ story: 2/?

  Evidence supporting Stanton’s story: 2/?

  Difficulty: Very Hard

  Reward: Unknown

  Penalty for Failure: Unknown

  Lazarus might have been lying for all you know, a cynical part of myself said as I dismissed the quest update. You won’t know for sure until you actually get the feed, and that won’t be until Sunday. He might just be stalling.

  Yeah, and all the references to the devils Constantine mentioned the other day? Another part of my mind countered, rehashing the very argument that had caused me to ruin the snakeskin. But what he said made sense and pieced together a lot of things we couldn’t find out on any Eberian feeds. Also, why would he openly admit to causing problems in the city if he really hadn’t?

  Sure, but— my sub-consciousness wasted no time in replying before I shook my head viciously, my voice echoing through the empty crafting hall. “Ugh!”

  Taking a deep breath, I did my best to keep my mind blank as I cleaned up my workspace and turned to leave the portion of the Crafting Hall that had been dedicated to leathercrafting, deciding that what I needed the most right now was a walk to clear my head before I attempted to craft anything else. Damaging or ruining several pieces of the high-quality snakeskin when I was trying to fashion it into armor would definitely not improve on my mood.

  Leaving the room, I walked through the quiet Crafting Hall, none of the new arrivals to Aldford so far sharing my habit of waking up early to get to work. Though to be fair, there had been a handful of Adventurers that had still been awake and working on their own projects when I had arrived at the hall, just before five in the morning.

  On second thought, scratch that. I think someone’s in the Foundry, I corrected myself as a repetitive banging sound echoed from an adjoining hallway that split off from the main building.

  Curious to who might be up this early, I decided to follow the sound of the noise and changed my direction towards it. The sound gradually grew in intensity as I approached the Foundry and pushed the large doors leading into it open, revealing the familiar form of Jenkins, sitting at the forge already covered in a heavy sweat from his work.

  “I should have figured that if anyone was here this early, that it would be you,” I called out.

  “Eh?” Jenkins grunted, turning around to look at me with an odd expression. “Should be no surprise that I’m here, I stopped in nearly an hour ago to say good morning while you were carving all that leather.”

  “Uh,” I looked at the man sideways, a confused expression on my face. “You did? I don’t even remember…”

  “Explains why you didn’t reply then,” Jenkins replied with an idle wave of the hammer before turning back towards the forge.

  “Sorry, Jenkins,” I said as I crossed the room. “I’m distracted and have a lot on my mind lately.”

  “Figured as much,” the man acknowledged as a rhythmic pounding sound filled the air again. “You walk around like the whole town sits on your shoulders.”

  “Perhaps a certain noble who was seen storming back into town yesterday evening is the source of your distraction?” Léandre’s voice echoed out from inside the new forge that sat in the center of the room, causing me to flinch slightly in surprise.

  “Léandre! I didn’t know you were here too!” I exclaimed, while turning away from Jenkins and moving towards the Tul’Shar’s voice, eventually spotting him lying inside the nearly completed forge with a heavy chisel in his hand.

  “Where else would I be?” he questioned. “Still asleep maybe? Pah! I am an old man! Even in this world, anything more than six hours is a blessing.”

  “Old or not, you still work more than anyone else here,” I replied.

  “Work is life,” Léandre stated. “The day that I stop moving is the day that I die. Besides, I am curious to see if your idea for the forge here will bear fruit.”

  “Heh, too true,” I agreed with a chuckle, knowing exactly how the man felt. “But to answer your earlier question. Partly. The rest of my worries belong to the Adventurers that he brought with him.”

  “Worries that will lead to troubles?” Léandre asked, a note of caution in his voice.

  “More like worries that raise uncomfortable questions, which in turn bring troubling answers,” I said seeing Léandre start to crawl his way out of the forge.

  “Ah,” the Tul’Shar replied with sudden understanding. “Then perhaps I can take your mind off your troubles with some good news?”

  “That would be wonderful!” I said excitedly as Léandre finished extricating himself from the forge and pulled himself up to his full height.

  “Well, first thing,” the lion-headed man began with a dramatic wave at the forge. “I proclaim this new forge ready for use! All we need to do now is stoke it…and see if your idea proves to be fruitful.”

  “That’s great!” I exclaimed, clapping my hands together as I looked over the forge. “I can’t wait to try it out!”

  “I do hope it works,” Léandre told me with a momentary look of worry. “Metals are starting to become a growing concern. Despite the quantity that we’ve managed to stockpile so far, the amount we are finding has dropped drastically. Unless we discover a more reliable source in the coming weeks, we are going to start experiencing shortages.”

  “I know,” I said with a nod, understanding the architect’s concerns all too well. “Hopefully this new forge will be able to smelt the metal we’ve recovered from the Tower. Gods know we have enough of that lying around.”

  “It may end up a case of using golden nails depending how valuable the metal ends up being,” Léandre commented, turning to look at Jenkins as he walked over towards us. “But better for us to do that than to have the town’s constru
ction stagnate.”

  “Metals aside, Léandre told me earlier what you’re planning to do with the forge…and I have to ask, do you think it’ll really work?” Jenkins asked me uneasily. “I don’t know anything about all this Æther that you’ve found, but do you really expect cutting a few channels in the forge and letting it mix with the coals to do anything?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest,” I told Jenkins with a shrug. “If anything, I expect it to react violently and possibly explode.”

  Jenkins stared at me with his mouth slightly agape, “What?”

  “I’ve already tried bringing the original forge to as hot as it could possibly go, and truthfully, I’m surprised I didn’t cause it to crack from all the heat,” I told the smith with a shrug, motioning towards the smaller forge that he had just been working on. “I figure scaling this one up to be larger and hotter can’t hurt, but really at this point, I’m just throwing ideas at the wall.”

  “So…as I understand it, you’re going to pour pure highly concentrated mana into the roaring fire and see what happens?” Jenkins repeated incredulously.

  “Pretty much,” I said with a shrug. “I’ll start with a small amount and see what happens first.”

  “Great,” Jenkins replied, completely deadpan.

  “When in doubt, add Æther,” Léandre chimed in with amusement before a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “But not to the wood. We’ve found that doesn’t work well.”

  “What do you mean?” Jenkin asked, looking at the Tul’Shar with confusion. “Why?”

  “It causes the wood to explode, unfortunately,” Léandre replied wistfully and shook his head. “Ruined my favorite apron that day, I was never able to get all the blood out of it. Perhaps I added too much? I will have to try again another time…”

  Jenkins glanced between Léandre and me, clearly struggling to keep his expression under control. “Remind me to go stand behind the doors when you start adding Æther to the forge. As curious as I am to see if your idea will work, I won’t come back to life if I’m blown to smithereens like you two will.”