“No… no,” her grandfather replied. “I… want to watch you shoot again. Can you show… Grandpa one last time?”
Riley nodded, her eyes still uncertain. Then she turned back to the quiver that rested against the stump, pulling another arrow and taking aim again. Her arm struggled to pull back the string, and, a few seconds later, another arrow raced through the air toward the woods. This arrow landed with more force, managing to penetrate the thick bark and hang from the trunk.
“Grandpa, look!” Riley shouted, turning back to the older man.
She froze as she saw him lying across the ground, his chest not moving. Riley’s eyes went wide, and she rushed over, pressing her hands to the old man’s arm and shaking him gently. “Grandpa! Are you okay? Wake up!” Her cries rang out loudly, and Jason could already see several family members emerging from the house and glancing at the young girl in confusion.
Jason reached a hand out to comfort the girl. To help her. To do something – anything, but he could already see the world beginning to shimmer and shift around him, signaling another transition. He could see the tears streaming down Riley’s face, her hands clutching at her grandfather’s unmoving body as she shouted at him.
“No! Please let me stay,” Jason yelled. But, just like Riley, his cries landed on deaf ears, sounding muted and surreal as the scene of Riley crouching above her grandfather faded from view and was replaced by an endless black void.
Chapter 38 - Evolved
Alexion stood on the keep’s balcony, watching the rays of sunlight refracting off the crystalline walls surrounding the city. He could make out tendrils of smoke curling from the chimneys of the city’s many homes. The townspeople and players were winding through its streets and thronging its market. Despite his most recent failure, the Crystal Reach was now thriving – a product of the decisions he had made over the last couple weeks in-game.
Naturally, his eyes eventually returned to the keep’s courtyard. The ruined remains of the ballistae were still piled along the walls ringing the enclosure. The fires of the pillars had long since died out, large circular piles of ash the only evidence of the brutal massacre of over a hundred slaves. And in the center of it all lingered the same crimson pentagram.
Alexion shied away from looking at the magic symbol, shuddering slightly as his encounter with the Dark One flashed through his mind once more. The images of his actions – of his victims – were now ever-present, as though the dark god had somehow branded him. He could see the eyes of his classmates as he blackmailed them and his mother’s bloodstained hospital sheets. Even in his dreams, the memories refused to relinquish their hold on him.
“Why so dour my dear stupid knight?” the Lady asked suddenly. The light god abruptly materialized beside Alexion, her skin glowing in the soft sunlight.
Before he could stop himself, Alexion snapped, “I’m fucking fine. Especially considering you abandoned me to the Dark One!” He fully rounded on the woman, stabbing a finger at her while his free hand rested on the hilt of the sword at his waist. “You let him torture me for his own sick amusement while you did what? You walked away?”
The Lady raised a single, immaculately groomed eyebrow. She appeared unaffected by his tirade. “Ahh, so you blame me for your hasty defeat. Interesting. And here I was hoping you had learned something from the experience. Perhaps I was overly optimistic.”
“Learned something?” Alexion spat. “All I learned was that I cannot rely upon you. If I am to make my way in this world, it will need to be on my own steam from now on. I expect that won’t be difficult since you seem to add little value to our relationship.”
The woman smiled slightly at this. “Oh, really? Do you think that my actions are without purpose – even after all this time? That encounter was necessary.”
Alexion did a double take, staring at the woman as he tried to process what she was saying. The anger still seethed and frothed in his veins, and the insidious voice in the back of his mind urged him to retaliate for the harm that she had caused. Yet he hesitated.
“Restraint suits you,” the Lady commented, a sneer curling her lips as she noted the war of emotions raging across his face. “I suspected you would fail in your encounter with my brother. He is too powerful now that this Jason has continued to feed him. However, it did offer a valuable learning experience.
“I see you don’t understand,” the Lady continued, observing Alexion’s confused reaction. “Let me enlighten you. As you know, my affinity is based around confidence. You certainly aren’t short on that particular trait. However, it is easy for confidence to turn into arrogance. You thought to tackle a god with some siege weapons and a few low-leveled soldiers? How pathetic.
“And then, to make matters worse, you walked inside the spell caging that god?” the Lady demanded. “Or did you forget that particularly stupendous act of idiocy? And for what? For the glory of landing the killing blow? So yes, boy. I knew you would fail and set up these events intentionally.” The god’s eyes met his, flashing with golden light. “I manufactured this situation to teach you the cost of arrogance – and the swift defeat that comes at the hands of hubris.”
Alexion’s mind went numb as he listened to the Lady, his anger swiftly cooling as he struggled to think of any counter-arguments. Yet the inexorable logic of her comments weighed on him. He had failed. He had strangled that voice of doubt and worry – just as his father had urged, but it had led him down a path of failure and caused him to seriously underestimate his opponent. He couldn’t help but draw a comparison with his original attack on the Twilight Throne. Even in that engagement, he had overcommitted his forces and refused to consider that Jason was a savvy tactician.
“You… you are right,” Alexion acknowledged, refusing to look at the god who stood beside him. The words pained him to say – in part because he could only imagine the look of unrestrained, condescending glee that was likely painted across her face.
“I’m not certain I heard that,” the Lady replied, humor in her voice.
“You were right,” Alexion hissed through gritted teeth. “I underestimated the Dark One and let my ego cloud my judgment.” His gaze rounded on the irritating woman, his will hardening. “But this will be the last time I make that mistake. I will find a way to repay both the dark god and Jason for their actions. I promise you this – they will suffer.”
In contrast to his expectations, a genuine smile graced the Lady’s lips. “Perfect. Then you are ready to take the next step along my path.”
With a wave of the god’s hand, a crystalline panel along the wall slid back, causing the balcony to shudder and tremble. Soon, the mana well was revealed once more. Alexion stepped cautiously inside. His eyes were fixed on the column comprised entirely of white gold standing in the center of the room. A bowl rested calmly atop the pillar, golden liquid swimming in its depths.
Unlike the last time he had witnessed the well, the mana now seemed to call to him, its draw inexplicable. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he would be embraced by its power, and he would never have to feel anything – ever again. That it would make him stronger…
“I think you are finally ready to accept the power of the well,” the Lady explained, stepping up beside Alexion and whispering in his ear. “The mana within the bowl represents the fanaticism and devotion that you have engendered among your people – their confidence and their prayers. This is pure power that will let you shape and grow this city to new heights.”
“I want it…” Alexion murmured, his hand already reaching for the liquid.
Unlike the last time, the Lady did not move to stop him, and, a moment later, his fingers touched the golden mana. The substance clung to his skin, feeling warm to the touch – almost inviting. Then it began to creep up his arm. Alexion didn’t feel afraid or worried as the liquid crept over his body. He felt… nothing. That same hollow void descended upon him once again, the sensation comforting and enveloping after the torrent of memories and emotions he had endured a
t the hands of the Old Man. He gave himself over to the feeling willingly, letting it wash away the clutter that filled his mind.
The mana curled and coiled up his arm, stretching across his torso and creeping up his neck. As the liquid neared his eyes, he felt a sudden flash of anxiety, but the emotion was quickly burned away by the mana that pulsed through his veins and across his skin. There was no room for doubt here – or for hesitation.
“The light shines brightly,” the Lady whispered behind him. “It warms the skin and casts away the darkness that clouds our minds. It burns away those emotions that hold us back – letting us reach our true potential.”
The liquid finally covered Alexion’s face, and he instinctively closed his eyes. The comforting warmth had turned to a searing heat that felt like it was peeling at his skin. However, he could not muster any concern over this – nothing could hurt him right now. The energy cascaded and spun across his skin until he felt like he would lose himself to this power.
And then, as quickly as the sensation had swept over him, it vanished. The liquid mana abruptly hardened and shattered – casting Alexion out of his trance-like state. He stumbled slightly as he regained control of his faculties once more. He felt suddenly empty, as though he had lost something incredibly important. The sensation was disconcerting and almost painful.
Seeking that feeling again, he instinctively channeled his light mana. The sensation came back once more, but this time more muted and softer. As he regained his composure, Alexion’s back straightened, and he shifted slightly to the clink of his platemail. The movement also caused a rustling sound that whispered through the small room.
“Welcome my warrior, my new Seraph,” the Lady’s voice echoed slightly through the small room. “Embrace your new self and lead our people to greatness!”
Whirling, Alexion peered at a crystalline wall. The surface rippled and contorted before becoming mirror-like. The creature that stared back at him was not the man he once knew. His skin now carried a translucent golden hue, and a crown of light hovered above his brow. The source of the rustling also became apparent. Six wings now stretched from his back, each spindly arm adorned with pristine white feathers.
As he gradually came to terms with the changes, Alexion’s gaze shifted back to the Lady. A small, proud smile curled her lips – an expression he was unaccustomed to seeing from the normally condescending woman.
“What do we do now?” Alexion finally asked, his voice sounding richer and deeper to his own ears.
“Now?” the Lady asked, her smile widening and becoming more shark-like. “Now, we finally get to work. We have an empire to build and enemies to crush, after all.”
***
Jason suddenly found himself back inside the moonlit cavern, droplets of water sprinkling down from the hole in the ceiling of the cave and splashing against the surface of the pool in the center of the room. His thoughts were frantic as he replayed the previous scenes in his mind. He couldn’t ignore the truth of what he had seen – his friends’ memories. Or at least something so close to their real memories that they were indistinguishable from the actual events.
“I see you have finally witnessed the true power of the pool,” the Old Man said, stepping forward calmly and picking up on Jason’s surface thoughts.
“Those were Frank and Riley’s memories,” Jason murmured. “But how… how is that even possible?”
“I told you before, when a person in this world dies, their memories – their soul – returns to this pool,” the Old Man explained. “Usually, those memories are fragmented and imprecise. They are little more than a motley assemblage of a person’s last moments and critical events in their life. In your world, I believe the expression is that a person’s life ‘flashes before their eyes’ when they stand at death’s door. That is a fitting comparison here.
“However, when a person’s remains are interred in the mana well, this provides greater clarity,” the dark god continued, his voice echoing slightly through the cavern. “This is what you did inadvertently with Rex. You cast his remains into the well and were granted insight into his soul – into that turning point in his life that made him into the man you knew.”
Jason was beginning to understand. “So, when my friends sacrificed themselves and their blood entered the well…”
“Their memories were collected and brought here to this place,” the Old Man said, waving at the pool as he finished Jason’s sentence. “That is the purpose of the sacrifices. They serve to teach a new Keeper the ways of the dark. To let him taste a glimpse of the power I offer and to center and ground him in the lives of his friends and loved ones.”
“Then I am to be a Keeper of Souls?” Jason asked, finally piecing together the events he had witnessed over the last few weeks – the fleeting glimpses of the last Keeper’s memories. “But what is this place then?” Jason asked, looking around the cavern from a fresh perspective.
The Old Man’s lips curled into a smile below his cowl. “I was wondering when you would finally ask that question. This place is a crossroads between life and death. You could consider this my domain, a small metaphysical wrinkle in the world. It was also used extensively by the previous Keepers.”
“Used how?” Jason asked.
The Old Man gazed at him for a long moment. “You recall fragments of your encounter with the former Keeper inside the deathscape. However, I suspect most of the events after our conversation are a blank.” Jason nodded slowly, trying to recall what had happened after he had witnessed the confrontation between the Old Man and the former Keeper.
“Let me refresh your memory of what happened afterward.”
As the dark god finished speaking, he laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder. All at once, a burning sensation flooded his limbs, swiftly spreading through his body. At the same time, Jason’s memories of his battle inside the deathscape came back in a torrent. He remembered his losing fight against the mad Keeper and the way the ephemeral blue energy jetted from his wounds. In his desperation, he had called upon something outside himself – channeling raw, unfiltered dark mana through the Old Man’s scythe.
And the darkness had responded. Tortured, living nightmares had clawed their way into the world. He remembered their hunger – that endless gnawing craving. That desire for more. And his soul had responded, their message resonating with something deep inside himself. He remembered how he had given himself over to that power, going nearly mad in the process. Even now, he could feel that same hunger within himself.
When the Old Man removed his hand, Jason gasped. “You… you suppressed those memories?” he croaked, concern and confusion tinging his voice. While that bottomless hunger was terrifying, it was even more disconcerting to realize the extent of the dark god’s and Alfred’s influence over his mind.
“They were too much for you to handle at the time, and you had no context for what you had experienced. You were not yet ready to accept the truth. Now, however, you are in a position to better understand the purpose of the mana wells,” the Old Man explained calmly.
“The travelers tap into my power, but what they receive is merely a trickle. The prior Keepers were those more closely attuned to their desires, fueling and amplifying what I provide naturally. You tasted a glimpse of the gnawing hunger that is desire and how easy it is to lose oneself to those feelings.
“Yet what is power without the wisdom to use it? I do not wish to reign over a broken, fractured wasteland. My avatars needed something to ground them. Hence, the well. It stores the souls of the Kin, and my Keepers once used those memories to stay grounded in the lives of others – to keep themselves focused on their people.
“You saw this during your encounter with my last avatar,” the Old Man continued, glancing away and guilt coloring his voice. “He undertook a forbidden ritual, giving over his mind and body entirely to the dark. I assume he felt this was the only way to protect his people. The grimoire and the wells represented the last remnants of our race, and he felt he had
no choice. Anticipating the consequences of his actions, he sought to stay sane by plunging his hand into the mana well and immersing himself in the memories of the Kin.”
“Which made him go mad,” Jason murmured, recalling the way the Keeper had seemed to speak in strange voices and his erratic behavior, as though many different people were trying to communicate through the same body.
After experiencing his friends’ memories, he could only imagine what it would be like to experience the lives of thousands of other people – witnessing their victories and their defeats – their moments of sorrow and heartbreak. All the while being able to do nothing. He remembered how powerless he had felt watching Riley’s grandfather pass, tears streaking down her young face. It was more than enough to make a person go mad.
“The previous Keeper went too far for even the well to counterbalance the dark mana being channeled through his body,” the Old Man continued. “That is why that particular ritual is forbidden. It actually corrupts a user’s soul, and they lose themselves entirely to the dark and to their desires.”
“I think I understand,” Jason said slowly, raising his head to meet the dark god’s gaze. “So what happens now?”
“Now you make a choice,” the dark god replied simply. “This is a decision you must make freely. You have witnessed both the power I offer and the risk that it entails. You now must decide whether or not you wish to take the next step along my path.”
Jason hesitated, despite how far he had come to get here. Did he really want this? The memory of how close he had come to losing himself during the battle with the Keeper was still fresh in his mind. The solution that the Old Man was offering was to see into the souls of those that followed him – witnessing their pain and their sorrow. He wasn’t sure if he could endure it. His friends’ memories had been haunting, as though he was really catching glimpses of their souls.
And they were only two people among thousands. Others relied on him – even if he kept telling himself that they weren’t real. Was Rex’s sacrifice any less meaningful because he didn’t have a flesh and blood body? Was Alfred less real simply because he existed as bits of digital code on a server? The line between Jason’s world and this one felt like it kept growing thinner and thinner. He wondered what would happen when that line broke down completely.
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