by James Hunter
“And who’s fault is that?” I said, tone cold as the arctic. “You brought the Legion south to Ravenskirk—you’re the one who left the Imperial towns open to attack because you couldn’t just let the Alliance exist. All my cities are fine. So that’s on you, asshole—”
“Let’s keep this civil,” Jay said, cutting me off as he folded his heavily tattooed arms across his broad chest. “You’re a guest here, Lord Grim Jack”—he said lord as though he doubted my right to the title—“and if you get uppity again, I have no problem tossing you out on your asses.”
Cutter snorted and slipped up beside me, pulling free his twin daggers, both black as midnight. He offered the monk a contemptuous grin as his blades twirled and danced in his hands. “Throw us out, mate? You and what army? Oh wait, that’s right—we beat the shite right outta your army the last time, so even that won’t help. And speaking of civil, you talk like that to my friend again, and I’ll carve some new tattoos into your face with the tip of my blades. And I’m the nice one.” He paused and shot a look at Amara and Abby. “You can’t even imagine the hurtin’ those two will lay on you.”
“I’m done with this,” Jay said, slapping down a broad hand on the tabletop. “I think it’s—”
The words froze on his lips, his eyes glazing over. Suddenly, he was an unmoving statue, his scowl plastered in place, one hand raised and ready to do violence. What in the hell was going on?
THREE_
Champions
I spun in a slow circle, scanning the room for some sign of threat. From what I could see, there was no enemy—no bandits tearing toward me down the hall, no slavering Vogthar ready to eat me alive. That didn’t make me feel any better since everyone was frozen in place. Statue still. Cutter, Amara, Abby, Jay. Everyone but me. And Osmark. Which could only mean one thing … The Overminds were here. At least one of them. Goosebumps ran along my arms and legs and the hair at the back of my neck stood rigid.
“Well, this can’t be good,” Osmark muttered from across the hulking table, one hand instinctively dropping to the butt of his steampunk pistol.
I didn’t agree with him on much, but on this he wasn’t wrong. The Overminds never showed up with good news. Never.
“Jack, Osmark,” purred a familiar female voice, her words lightly coated with a British accent. Though I’d only chatted with her face-to-face a handful of times, she was impossible to forget. I swiveled my head to the right, finally catching sight of my boss, the Overmind of Order and Balance, as she stepped through a shimmering, opalescent rift in the air. Through the rift, I could see a strange land of rolling green hills, spectacular wildflowers, and a purple sky studded with a thousand stars and strange floating islands.
“It’s so good to see just how well the two of you are getting along,” she said, arching an immaculate golden eyebrow as she regarded the warhammer in my hand.
The Overmind had deeply brown skin and wore a spotless white toga, which stood out in sharp contrast to her flawless complexion. Her hair, a sheet of golden ringlets, hung down to her shoulders and framed a heart-shaped face. She regarded me with emerald eyes, her full lips pulling back in a smile, revealing brilliant white, immaculately straight teeth. She was unbelievably beautiful but unnatural. More like the beauty of a thunderstorm or a tornado: best admired from a distance.
For a long beat, my heart seemed to stutter and stall; I could only stand, stare, and contemplate running for my life. Sophia was what amounted to a goddess in this place, and though she’d never been anything but benevolent, she was deadly powerful.
“Now, if the two of you are done playing, perhaps we can get to business.” Her smile widened, and she snapped her fingers.
A brilliant flash of silver light filled the room, blinding me to the world as the scent of pine and sweet spring flowers invaded my nostrils. The glow swirled and danced in the air, and as it did, the room around me transformed. The stone floors gave way to lush emerald grass, and the maps melted away, replaced by sheets of colorful flowers and creeping vines. Osmark’s conference table collapsed into a pile of dust, carried away by an unfelt breeze as a ridge of rough-hewn granite protruded from the floor.
The room had gone from commanding corporate suite to idyllic natural paradise. All with a snap of her fingers. I’d seen this trick before, but it was still just as impressive.
“And what business is that?” Osmark asked, sounding completely unruffled. “We’ve already put aside our dispute for the time being and are engaging the Vogthar. What more do you want?” The last was part question, part demand.
“Oh, you’re working together alright,” she said, strutting forward until she was directly in front of Osmark. He was taller than her by a solid foot, but somehow—impossibly—she domineered him. She reached up and ran a single finger along his cheek. “But only on the surface. I know what you’re up to, dear Robert. I see how you scheme. How you undermine the Alliance at every turn. How you slowly position yourself so once this conflict has passed, you can crush my champion.” She paused, lips pulling back into a feral smile “I. See. Everything.” Before he could respond, she twirled on a heel.
“I knew it,” I said, scowling in defiance as I thrust an accusing finger toward Osmark. “I knew you were full of crap. I’m done with this.”
“Oh no, Jack. That’s where you’re wrong,” Sophia said, facing me. “Because this is a battle you cannot win on your own—while you two fight an untenable war, Thanatos and Serth-Rog make great gains. And as they advance, his vassal, Carrera, grows stronger. Even now, they are amassing more power by invading the Locked Realms in a bid to weaken the power of the Overminds. If we are to survive, there must be unity. You must learn to work together. To trust each other.”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “No way. I’m already walking a fine line by working with him at all. There’s no way I can trust this guy. He’s a snake.”
“He’s not wrong,” Osmark said with a shrug, spreading his hands.
“Unacceptable,” she said, her normally confident and cool exterior fading away. Suddenly she looked tired. Worn. Her impeccable hair seemed frazzled, her skin looked a tad too thin, and dark bags loitered beneath her eyes. “Enyo and I have been patient with the two of you, but our patience is nearing its limit. You are our champions. Our servants, and it’s time you understand that. We’ve tried the carrot,” Sophia said, tapping thoughtfully at her bottom lip with one finger, “so perhaps it is time to try the stick.” She grinned at me, a hard glint in her fierce eyes.
She lifted her hands and gave them a sharp clap, just once. Yet the sound hung heavy in the air, resonating, growing, building in intensity like a summer thunderstorm.
A dull, burning pain sucker punched me in the gut as that noise invaded my head and settled into my skin. My bones. It felt like a red-hot fire iron. Like someone had pumped magma into my veins. The agony pulsed inside my muscles as I doubled over, clutching my stomach. The world was hazy, the ground reeling drunkenly beneath me. I groaned, raising my hands and pressing my palms into my ears, trying to block out the clap, which seemed to rattle around inside my skull like a bullet.
It was hard to focus, to think, but I heard a similar groan coming from Osmark.
“You two will learn to work together, even if it kills you.” Sophia clapped again, and this time the noise ceased, stealing the pain away as quickly as it had come. But as I righted myself a new prompt flashed in front of me—one that took my breath away:
<<<>>>
Curses Added:
Entwined Fate: You have been cursed by Sophia, Overmind of Order and Balance! Your life has been tied to Traveler Robert Osmark’s. When he dies, you will automatically die. Duration: this effect lasts until Sophia lifts the curse.
Shared Trauma: You have been cursed by Sophia, Overmind of Order and Balance! Your well-being has been tied to Traveler Robert Osmark’s. When he suffers a Status Debuff, you automatically suffer the same penalty until the debuff expires or is removed.
<<<>>>
“What in the hell have you done?” Osmark said, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and horror. Unless I missed my guess, he was seeing the same display.
“I have properly motivated you,” the Overmind replied, radiating smugness, the weariness I’d seen a few moments before gone. “Though you might hate it, your kingdoms are tied together as surely as your lives now are. So, learn to work together or perish horribly. And if you want that curse removed, there’s only one way to do it. You must complete a quest for me. A very important one. And it will require both of you to do it.” She turned on a heel, her toga flying out around her as she began to pace.
“As I said, Thanatos and Serth-Rog are making great gains. There are other worlds than these. Locked areas that hold advanced quests. Seven of them, in fact—the Realm of the Overminds. You, Jack, have already glimpsed many of these realms. The Twilight Lands, where you battled Arzokh the Sky Maiden, exists on the edge of the Realm of Chaos. Unfortunately, Thanatos also has access to these realms. And he has invaded one such realm.” Her steps faltered, and for a second, I glimpsed the weariness sweep across her face, there then gone.
“My realm, to be exact. Thanatos hasn’t discovered a way to destroy me—not yet, though he is searching—but he has found a way to cripple me. The Overminds derive power from their respective realms. Thanatos has released an ancient evil to corrupt my land. And if he is successful? We all die. All of us. Alliance. Imperial. Thanatos doesn’t care. As my champion, Jack, you are the only one who can save me, but you must master your new powers to do so.”
“This sounds like your issue,” Osmark said. “Jack has proven himself to be competent enough to handle this situation. But me? I’m needed here.” He spread his hands. “The war effort won’t survive without my leadership.”
“You’re needed where I say you’re needed,” Sophia replied. “Your mistress, Enyo, has given me free rein because she understands exactly how dire this situation is. If I go, she is surely next.” Sophia grinned and waved one hand in the air. “Enjoy your trip.” Silver light, brilliant as a solar flare, burst from her fingertips, enveloping the room in a shimmering, opalescent glow. Humongous trees as tall as skyscrapers lurched heavenward, their vast boughs reaching toward a purple sky with two silver moons.
Floating in the sky like an armada of drifting clouds were huge islands brimming with lush vegetation. They just hung there unsupported, hundreds of feet above the ground, defying every law of physics known to man. Fear rose inside my gut. The room was gone—there wasn’t even a hint of what had been there before. No sign of the table or chairs. No maps, no marble, no buildings. For a time, I just stood there, mouth agape, taking in the otherworldly forest and the strange sky above.
Osmark stood not far off, surveying the landscape. One eye twitched, and based on the red invading his cheeks, I was secretly afraid his head was going to explode. He turned toward me, his face a thunderhead, his jaw clenched, one hand wrapped around the grip of his steampunk pistol. “Well, this is inconvenient,” he finally said, his voice a guttural whisper.
“Not as inconvenient as an untimely death,” came Sophia’s voice, booming from all around us.
She lingered at the edge of the clearing, leaning casually against an oak that would dwarf every tree in San Francisco’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park. “Still, I’m not without some mercy.” She smiled and snapped her fingers. In a blink, the rest of the folks from the throne room appeared in the clearing. Cutter, Amara, Abby, and Jay—all present and accounted for, though still frozen. “And assuming you can put aside your differences, you’ll finish my quest and be back in Eldgard proper in no time.”
With that, she smiled and disappeared, leaving no sign she’d ever been here. A quest alert appeared in the wake of her departure:
<<<>>>
Quest Alert: Rise of the Lich Priest
Sophia, the Overmind of Order and Balance, has called upon you as her champion to investigate the cause of the corruption spreading through the secret Realm of Order. Hone your abilities as Champion of Order and restore the realm.
Quest Class: Ultra-Rare, Champion-Based
Quest Difficulty: Infernal
Success: Find the source of the corruption spreading through the Realm of Order and eradicate it, bringing balance back to the land.
Failure: Fail to eradicate the source of corruption spreading through the Realm of Order.
Reward: 75,000 EXP; (2) Divinity Points; 1000 renown; Unique, scaling item for every member of the party!
Accept: Yes/No?
<<<>>>
As I accepted and dismissed the notification, time lurched back into motion, sound crashing down around us as Jay abruptly resumed talking. “—time for you to leave.” The words trailed off as the bald monk’s eyes widened in surprise. “What is this?” He growled, his tattooed fist shooting up as he dropped into a horse stance, ready to fight. “What kind of Alliance trick is this!” he said again, this an accusation instead of a question.
“Alliance trick? Bloody Imperial horse shite is what it looks like to me!” Cutter snapped, slipping into a defensive crouch, daggers raised and ready for bloodshed. And he wasn’t alone. An obsidian spear materialized in Amara’s hands while a fiery halo surrounded Abby—tongues of orange and red flames dancing around her, gently caressing her skin. I shot a glance at Osmark and saw the same understanding flash across his face. We had seconds before this devolved into a brawl that could turn deadly.
That was something we couldn’t afford.
Not now. Not here, in this strange place.
With a nod, Osmark and I both moved, but we were already too late.
FOUR_
Misunderstandings
“Stop,” I shouted at the top of my lungs.
Lot of good that did.
A fireball, easily the size of a pickup truck, streaked across the clearing, courtesy of Abby. The inferno blast slammed into Osmark’s chest like a wrecking ball, hurling him back a handful of feet, chipping minutely away at his HP. I knew from experience that Osmark was one tough son of a gun to kill—or even hurt for that matter—so I wasn’t too worried about Abby taking him out. I wasn’t prepared, however, for the combat notice that blinked to life in the corner of my vision:
<<<>>>
Debuffs Added
Burn: You have been burned! 5 pts Burn Damage; duration, 1 minute.
Flame Trauma: You have sustained a severe burn! All physical attacks do 25% less damage; duration, 1 minute.
<<<>>>
Sophia’s curse. Dammit. I dismissed the screen with a wave of my hand, but chaos had already erupted in the clearing. Abby advanced on Osmark with grim determination plastered across her face, her gnarled staff outthrust as she fired a barrage of fireballs at the Artificer. Each shot landed like a bomb blast, nibbling a bit more of his life away. Her brown eyes burned like hot embers, and I knew there was no way this was going to end well.
Meanwhile, Cutter and Amara leapt into action, only to be met midfield by Jay the Blood Monk.
“Everyone stop!” I hollered again, but my words were lost to the din of battle.
Amara vaulted into the air like an acrobat, lashing out with her spear, but Jay was ready. He swatted her attack away with ease, then retaliated with a lightning-fast jab. As his right fist flew, he tapped a blackened brand with his other hand. Although the strike never came close to the airborne Huntress, a wave of raw force exploded from his fist, barreling into her like a battering ram. She flipped back, blood spurting from her mouth as she hit the ground with a dull thud. She looked dazed, stunned, but thankfully her life only dropped by a sixth.
As she struggled to regain her feet, Cutter danced forward, narrowly avoiding a brutal front kick, then retreated a step and hurled a wave of smoky, conjured daggers. Jay was uncannily fast, though. He juked right, his fingers flashing out, tapping a small, cross-shaped tattoo on his chest. The brand fizzled, flared, and disappeared as a massive wall of orange light eru
pted in front of him. The shield was impressive. Instead of merely deflecting Cutter’s incoming daggers, the wall bounced them back straight toward the thief.
My rogue—nimble and quick as a cat—adjusted course, but one of the conjured blades still slashed across his shoulder, leaving a bloody wound in its wake.
The brilliant orange shield guttered and died a second later, but Jay, it seemed, was ready and waiting. The moment the defensive barrier fell, he slapped a black mark adorning the inside of his forearm. The brand—a carefully tattooed arrow—flashed and vanished back into his skin as he whipped one hand out, unleashing a barrage of golden arrows, which headed straight for my friend. Cutter wasn’t a slouch, and at level thirty-eight, he could take a pretty decent beating.
But Jay was strong, level thirty-seven, and he dealt some nasty damage.
I triggered Shadow Stride—time grinding to a halt, the color washing out of the world—and edged forward, positioning myself in front of Cutter. I took a moment to survey the battlefield. Abby was frozen in front of Osmark, her staff, which was now a column of raw flame, only inches from his face. Amara was finally back on her feet, though she looked tremendously unstable—that last attack must have been some sort of stun technique. Osmark knew the situation, and I had no doubt that he could handle his own against Abby.
Cutter, Amara, and Jay were the real problem here.
I pulled up my interface and drafted a quick message to my team:
<<<>>>
Group Message:
Cutter, Amara, Abby