“I think not, Sister. Death and Destruction are entirely within my rights. Be it by hand, or by Weave.” Destruction laughed as she motioned to the black thread. “Perhaps you are angry my pawn bested one of yours?”
“You have loosed a Nemesis! It is far too early in the Weave for that!” Creativity hissed as she moved to block Destruction from seeing the Tapestry. “You could tear everything apart!”
“Ah, but that is exactly what I want to do.” Destruction fixed her predatory gaze on Creativity. “I find your orderly vision sickening. You stifle all that you touch, forcing it to follow your rules. With my touch, I merely set them free to be as they truly are.”
“Your actions skew the Balance!” Creativity shouted. “You have gone too far!”
“And if I have?” Destruction waved a hand dismissively. “You cannot stop me, from carrying out my duties, Creativity. You need me for your existence to have meaning. I am the Death to your Life, Chaos to your Order, without me, you are nothing.”
“But on the other hand,” Destruction’s voice grew darker. “Without you, I am everything.”
“I tire of this, Destruction! I must undo your poison before it spreads!” Creativity advanced towards Destruction, anger burning in her eyes. “Leave!”
“Of course, Sister. All you had to do was ask.” Destruction’s gaze went to the Tapestry. “It seems to me that you are about to become quite busy.”
“What?!” Creativity whirled as she looked back at her work in terror. “What have you done?!”
Black threads now sprouted in the thousands, weaving like poisonous vines through the Grand Tapestry, strangling all that they touched. Countless dozens of Copper threads, mere Adventurers of little note, now shone blood red as they embarked on a path of Discord, leaving hundreds of threads pale as they fought and killed with little reason.
As Creativity watched the Tapestry reshape itself, a massive black thread arose from the mass, snaking itself around a golden thread. The golden thread trembled for a split instant, before succumbing and beginning to fade.
“No!” Creativity’s eyes flowed with tears as she rushed to salvage what she could.
Destruction laughed. “Goodbye, for now, Sister.”
Chapter 16
Somewhere
I found myself soaring over a vast field of broken bones stretching as far as the eye could see. Infinite shades of Grey coated the land, leaving it devoid of a single sign of life. A seeping, pervasive, cold crept over me, as massive black sun rose in the distance.
…dead? I struggled to form even the simplest thought as the corrupted star tore the light of life from me.
I lost track of time as I flew over the horizon, drawn towards something in the endless field of bones. In the distance, I began to see something… massive. As the distance diminished, I slowly began to realize that it was moving, that it was alive.
Colossal beyond scale, I witnessed a massive, eight-armed creature claw the ground as it picked up bones by the hundreds, heaping them into a pile.
…building, something? I struggled to form the thought in my death-addled mind, as I noticed a growing square being cleared of bones.
As if hearing my thoughts, the colossus halted in its work and turned its body to the sky. An impossibly pale eye fixed on me.
“BEGONE.”
The mental voice shattered what little control I had over myself, rending my shade to pieces.
My mind spiraled into darkness.
***
Aldford
I awoke in a fit of terror, my mind trying to make sense of what I’d just experienced, only to find myself standing just outside the Town Hall in Aldford with the sun beating down on me. I’d been dead for less than a minute.
“Ugh.” My heart hammered in my chest, as I rubbed my eyes trying to come to terms with my death and the disjointed vision I’d just experienced.
What the hell was that? Where was that? A few deep breaths helped settle me down, and within a minute the experience was beginning to fade into a distant memory. I tried to focus on the rest of the party, but all I could sense was their general direction, towards where I knew Crater Lake to be. If they died, they’d show up here with me. When I finally opened my eyes, several alerts hung in my vision.
You have died at the hands of your Nemesis!
As a badge of your failure, you will bear the scars of your death wound!
As a result of your death, your Nemesis grows in skill and power, beware!
Your Spirit feels weakened after your death!
Due to being under level 10, you do not experience any additional death penalty.
I pulled a glove off and touched my face, recalling my last moments of life before the Puma pounced onto me. My fingers found a thick line of scar tissue crossing the left side of my mouth, followed by another line on the right side of my forehead.
“Ho, Lyrian.” The Bann’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You’re back already? Where are your companions?”
“They’re still out there.” I turned to face the Bann as I spoke. “I… died, unfortunately.”
The Bann’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced over my new scars. “Ah, unfortunate indeed… the Adventurer’s Curse, as I call it. Though I am more than happy to have you still among the living.”
“Right now I’m not sure if I feel the same way…”
“Are you going to head back out again?” Aldwin asked indicating in the direction of the gate with a nod.
I mulled over the Bann’s question, trying to evaluate how it was I felt. Compared to my last moments, I felt hale and full of energy. A quick glance showed me I still had my equipment as well. I just felt off. As if my very spirit had stretched thin. “No. I think I’ll be staying in for the rest of the day, and wait for my friends to return.”
The Bann nodded, though after seeing my downcast expression, he frowned. “There is no sense in brooding. Come, we will spar then.”
“I’m not sure if I’m up for that…” I hedged, not feeling particularly enthusiastic about the idea. All I wanted to do at the moment was sit and collect myself.
“Nonsense!” The Bann waved my complaints away. “The best way to get over Death Sickness is to either get under someone or to get your blood up and shake off the cobwebs. I’m sure you’ve noticed the village is a bit sparse, regardless of preference for the former.”
“What-” I coughed at the Bann’s lewd suggestion, quickly realizing he was doing his best to get me out of my funk. “I-I suppose a little bit of sparring would help me get my mind off dying.”
“Good! The last thing the villagers need to see is you moping around like you just found a bag of drowned kittens.” Aldwin laughed as he led me towards the yard set aside for militia practice. “They’d probably take to the hills, to be honest, your presence is more soothing to them than you may realize.”
“Is it?” I paused, thinking over the last few days. Had I not spawned here during the goblin attack, a good portion of the villagers would have surely been kidnapped. Not to mention providing food for everyone after the attack.
“Enough wool-gathering,” the Bann said as we arrived to the bare patch of dirt that was the drill yard. “Let’s see what you’ve learned out there.”
The Bann stalked across the field, pulling his hand ax free from his belt loop. “We will fight until one submits. Don’t hold your blows either, we’ll call Shelia over to heal us between bouts.”
Fixing me with an eager smile, Aldwin spread his arms out wide. “Come at me, Adventurer.”
Bann Adwin has challenged you to a duel!
“Are you sure?” I hedged, still feeling the lethargy of death hanging over me. “I don’t-”
“Lyrian! On this field, I am Sir Fredric Aldwin, Knight of Eberia!” The Bann’s calm and friendly persona had vanished as if a switch was flicked. “When I give an order on this field, I expect it to be obeyed! If you don’t attack me this instant, I am going to cut your arm off and use it to beat you back
to death!”
A Knight?!
“Lyrian!”
Not waiting for the Bann to follow through on his threat, I instantly broke into a charge, drawing Razor in stride. I slashed out upwards, looking to split Sir Fredric from hip to shoulder. But before I could even get Razor fully drawn, he darted forward, shoulder first, using his body to block my draw. His body check completely negated my charge, sending me sprawling to the ground.
“Come on, Lyrian!” He yelled at me, as he slashed downward with his ax. “My senile mother would have seen that coming! It’s no wonder to me why you died!”
Instinct had me urgently rolling to the side as I slammed into the ground, saving me from the ax that would have ended up in my chest. The swing had enough strength behind it to bury itself into the dirt right up to shaft. Shit! He isn’t fooling around! That could have killed me!
I kicked out at the back of the Bann’s knee and was rewarded with a meaty thump as he lost his balance, going down to one knee. I rolled to my feet, barely missing a slash as he tore the ax from the ground in a spray of dirt. As I leaped away to build space between us, I felt the specter of death hanging over me, sapping my strength and slowing my movements. Nothing was as easy or fast as it should have been.
“That’s more like it!” Aldwin roared as he launched himself at me.
Fighting through the lethargy, I quickly drew Razor, parrying a handful of probing attacks as the Bann closed in, sweeping his hand ax in short, and controlled arcs as he attempted to close the gap between us. He wielded the hand ax like a smith wielding a hammer. Short, but punishing swings forced me to constantly backpedal as he attempted to overpower my defenses with brute force.
He’s even stronger than he looks! I winced as fervent parries sent jarring quakes of pain up my arm. We were evenly matched with speed, but with the Bann’s greater strength and the skill he wielded his ax with, he was a world beyond me. Time to do something reckless!
I stopped backpedaling under the Bann’s furious assault and retaliated with a flurry of blows as I closed the gap. Aldwin easily knocked my attacks aside but was surprised as I stepped forward with a vicious elbow across the jaw. The effort cost me a wicked chop across the knee, even as Razor nicked the inside of the Bann’s arm.
Before I could even begin to celebrate landing a blow, I found myself sliding across the ground, propelled by a wicked kick that caught me in the chest. For the second time in the fight, I gasped for air as I got my feet under me and forced myself to stand, only to wince in pain as the wound on my knee made it impossible.
“Do you… shubmit?” the Bann slurred through a cracked lip as he cradled his right arm against his chest to stem the flow of blood.
“I…” I winced again as I tried to stand up, my knee was in definite trouble. “I submit.”
Bann Aldwin was victorious in your Duel!
Your skill in Swords has increased to Level 6!
“Good fight,” Aldwin grunted as he knelt down beside me “You have the speed and strength to compete. However, your blade skill is sorely lacking. You wield your sword like a club.”
I nodded as I absorbed new inflow of knowledge the new skill level brought. He was right, I might be level 9, but my weapon skills had been left far behind. Ever since I found Razor, I’ve had to worry less about my actual skill in combat, and focused more on just swinging the sharp end of the blade around.
Despite the Death Sickness and trouncing at the Bann’s hand, I was thrilled that skills could improve through dueling! It sure beat having to run out into the wild and senselessly murder creatures until I reached a certain skill level.
Summoning my character sheet with a mental command, double checked how my skills were progressing. “I have quite a bit to learn.”
Skills:
Evocation – Level 5 – 34% (Increases knowledge of Evocation Magic and improves related Abilities.)
Unarmed Combat – Level 4 – 11% (Increases knowledge of hand-to-hand fighting and improves related Abilities.)
Stealth – Level 2 – 14% (Decreases chance of being detected while attempting to stay hidden. Improves related Abilities.)
Swords – Level 6 – 2% (Increases knowledge of sword fighting and improves related Abilities.)
Wordplay – Level 1 – 15% (Increases chance to persuade others, resolve differences and/or get information.)
Perception - Level 3 - 35% (You are skilled in spotting hidden creatures and places. Depending on your skill level, hidden creatures, and places will be highlighted in red.)
I noticed I made small improvements in both Evocation and Unarmed Combat, likely during the fight with the spiders before I had died. I also remembered that in order to qualify for my Spellsword class I had to reach level 9 in both Swords and Evocation.
“Indeed.” Aldwin waved at a figure in the distance. “Here comes Shelia now.”
“Ready for another?”
***
A wooden shaft slammed into the side of my face, filling my mouth with blood as I desperately brought up my wooden sword to block the blows following behind it. I knocked two shafts out of the way while sidestepping a third.
“Hit!” the Bann shouted. “We start again at four minutes!”
I let out a roar of frustration as I parried the endless avalanche of attacks directed at me. The Bann was an evil man! Born from the blackest pits of Hell! Spawned from the union of Pain and Despair! I swore if he and the Devil crossed paths, the Devil would give him the right of way!
“Focus, Lyrian!” Aldwin called from the side of the field, as he ran a whetstone along Razor’s edge, having traded it for a weighted training blade. “Unless you’d rather take another turn with me!”
Gone was the witty, quiet leader who offered to take my mind off of Death Sickness with friendly sparring. In his place stood a Knight, intent on honing my broken, sweat covered body with the calm patience of a blacksmith sharpening a rusty knife.
The only solace I took at this moment, was that I wasn’t the only target of his wrath, if only indirectly.
Four of Aldford’s guards – two-thirds of the village militia had been summoned from their duty to aid me in training. At the moment, Loren, Ioun, Caleb, and Wallace were armed with blunted spears, doing their best to hit me as hard and often as they could. I didn’t even have the luxury of my armor to fall back on – the Knight having insisted that I fight bare-chested.
If only I hadn’t opened my fat mouth! I berated myself as I blocked a swing from Wallace and stepped past him, using his body to block the others from having a clear view of me.
An eternity ago, after a pair of lost duels at the Bann’s hand, I had foolishly asked: “Couldn’t you have killed all the goblins yourself during the attack?”
Without missing a beat, the Bann fully agreed that he probably could have, he then asked Shelia to call over the day shift’s militia members. “Killing the goblins wasn’t my concern, protecting every villager near me was.”
Knight Aldwin looked at me carefully. “What is more important to you, Lyrian? Is it killing your enemies? Or is it protecting those dearest to you? Take it from an old man who wishes he’d learned that lesson earlier in life if you try to do both, you will fail.”
It may have been my imagination at the time, but I swore I saw a ghost cross Aldwin’s face as he spoke.
He then ordered the Militia to attack me, with the stipulation that I wasn’t allowed to attack back until I had survived four consecutive minutes without them landing a hit on me.
So far, even after the Death Sickness faded away, I had failed a total of twenty-six times.
THWACK!
Twenty Seven times.
Argh! I sucked in a deep lungful of air as shook the stinging pain out of my arm. Damn it!
I leaped away as the Bann restarted the count once again, backing to the very edge of the practice field. Instinctively, the two younger Militia members, Loren and Ioun followed. They had been among the villagers surprised by the goblins during
the raid and nearly kidnapped to parts unknown. They burned for a chance to prove their worth and redeem themselves, if only in their own eyes.
They rushed in, attacking without any coordination. First in line, Loren stabbed out with his spear, looking to catch me high in the chest. Anticipating the attack, I shifted to the side, letting the thrust pass harmlessly beside me and feinted forward. Ioun, a step behind, twirled his spear and swung it horizontally like a staff as he attempted to keep me from escaping the corner.
I may not be able to hit them. I planted my foot and leaped backward.
THWACK!
“Aaah! I’m sorry!”
…but they can hit each other! Ioun’s wild blow caught Loren full in the side, bending the man double from the unexpected blow.
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