You have transferred your vitality to your summoned soul. Your level has been reduced to 26. Due to the instability in the channel, some of the vitality has been wasted.
The level of the summoned soul has risen to Level 500.
Portulac’s soul has gained a body and no longer needs to be nourished by your vitality. You are no longer bound to the soul of Portulac.
The petals of the bulb unfurled, revealing a new Level 500 Shadow Biota to the world. His coal-black epidermis seemed to absorb the light, turning it into a misty haze around his body. Fog seeped from the eyes of the Fifth, giving the biota’s face the unpleasant resemblance of a frightening mask.
Portulac looked over himself with fascination, brought his hand to his face and froze studying his new body.
“What has happened to me?” the Fifth’s voice was full of reverb as if his words were resounding in both worlds at the same time.
“You have received a new body, new strength, a new life, my love.”
Despite the inherently warm words, Astilba’s husky voice remained as cold and detached as before. She did not rush to embrace her revived beloved. There was neither triumph nor happiness on her face. The necromancer simply stood there, looking at the revived Fifth, and I thought I spied emptiness in her eyes. Hatred and the thirst for revenge, which had sustained Astilba for hundreds of years, burned in her soul, forcing her to strive for her goal at any cost. And now that the goal had been finally achieved, the Sixth’s hardened heart was no longer capable of the same feeling.
Hearing the familiar voice, the Fifth turned his head and looked at Astilba. The face of the oldest biota mage, which had been so tense and focused, smoothed out, and an incredulous and simultaneously happy smile appeared on his lips.
“Astilba?” he asked for some reason, observing the Shadow-altered Sixth.
The next instant Portulac disappeared, appearing again next to his beloved. He embraced her and pressed her to himself. Astilba did not resist. She remained standing like a stone statue, peering into Portulac’s face. She looked like she wanted to cross out the centuries of separation by some effort of will and return to the past. Back to the time when she still knew how to love.
Alas, this was beyond the power of the mighty necromancer.
The confusion in Portulac’s eyes gave way to determination. He pressed Astilba tightly to him and quietly whispered a few words in her ear.
“Now the time has come for me to revive you,” I heard him say, before the couple was enveloped in a foggy sphere that concealed their further conversation from outsiders.
Vex and I exchanged glances and silently left the cave. Turning around at the very exit, I saw the silhouette of Astilba as quiescent as a broken doll in the mage’s arms.
I do not remember how I got out of the renegades’ camp. Maybe Vex helped me. The odd, morbid and utterly unhappy reunion lingered in my mind’s eye. Damn, that was not at all what I had expected. Beautiful and tragic.
Around me, the renegades’ camp teemed like an anthill. The renegades were preparing for the last battle for the forest. I suppose Chip or Bogart would find this activity mundane, but I felt like I was in the way. Orders were sounding everywhere around me, messengers and senior officers were darting about. As far as I understood from the snatches of conversation I overheard, Pasha and his friends had accurately divined the tactics of the upcoming battle.
It looked like this was it—the last chapter, the scenario finale. A handful of renegades would ambush the superior forces of Kartoss and its guard of high-level players. They would attack and die in a desperate attempt to foil the alliance. The Hidden Forest would become a part of Kartoss, while the surviving renegades along with their leadership would retreat to the HQ—a dungeon, which would be raided day after day by players seeking to grind loot and experience. Both Astilba and Portulac would die again and again, losing each other until the next rebirth, which itself would promise nothing but a new death.
And, it seemed like this is a game and this was all just a matter of design...And still, I felt a deep sadness. It is a pity that nothing can be changed. A sad conclusion to a sad story. A new dungeon for the delight of the players. And all I can do is watch the show until its end. I only need to decide whether to join the renegades’ mass suicide attack or to contact the Seventh and watch them die from the other side of the battle lines. Only the second option seemed reasonable, but for some reason I wanted to choose the first one. It was stupid, senseless, but seemingly the only right thing to do.
The flip side of creativity is that you begin to care about the stories and characters you create.
“The time has come, Lorelei,” Vex called me. “Go ask Legate Ulver how you can help in the upcoming battle.”
“Okay,” I nodded and took a few steps towards the exit from the dungeon, before stopping. “Hey Vex! With the ritual and all, I completely forgot about an important message I have for Astilba.”
“Is it so important that you wish to distract her at such a moment?” he frowned. “Right before the decisive battle?”
“Geranika! He betrayed us and tried to desecrate the Guardian despite Astilba’s direct orders!”
“How do you know this?” Vex drilled me with his eyes.
“He wanted me to do it.”
“And you?”
“But I didn’t,” I replied, not lying.
Vex grabbed my arm and dragged me back to HQ.
“You must report this to the command,” he said without stopping. “The Second and Kodiak planned the attack with Geranika’s support.”
The brain center of the renegades was a huge cave. A hefty stone table with a map occupied the center. Around it stood a crowd of renegade biota and pirqs. Tribune Kodiak—a red-white pirq in black armor with golden highlights—was indicating the positions of the units to the commanders with a pointer. Wisps of fog whorled amid his fur, as was usual for Shadow creatures.
“The second and third maniples of the Aquila century,” he growled, “shall develop our initiative by striking the enemy’s rearguard. At the same time, the Prima century shall cut off any attempts at relief...”
Here the tribune noticed our presence and snapped:
“Get out!”
The next moment, the entire stabbing-hacking arsenal of the guards was aimed at us, and the tribune turned back to his map, having already forgotten about us. At the moment he had more important tasks to deal with. Despite the commanders’ concentrated looks, I had the distinct impression that they all understood the futility of their efforts. There was some kind of doom about them, mixed with the determination to see it all through to the bitter end. Although, what’s the point of guessing? I still vividly remembered the Guardian’s reaction to me, which saved him from a dark fate literally. The extent of his generosity was not to exile me right that moment, but a little later. The same fate awaited the renegades, even if they survive. Shadow had no place in the Hidden Forest.
“We bear important news, tribune,” said Vex, entirely unfazed by this reception.
The pirq looked up and gestured to the guards, who were already getting ready to grab us and toss us out of the situation cave.
“Get on with it,” he ordered.
The other officers also stared at us with expressions ranging from discontent to curiosity.
“Geranika ordered me to blight the Guardian of the forest,” I uttered a phrase that had the effect of a bombshell. The pirqs snarled threateningly, the Second cursed angrily, the others began to roar in indignation as they digested the perfidy of the Lord of Shadow.
“I will tear that pitiful shaman to tatters with my own paws!” Kodiak’s roar pressed me into the wall. “How dare he encroach on the very heart of our land?!”
The pirq placed his paw on the hilt of his sword, straightened his shoulders and looked around, as if he was looking for Geranika, who was cunningly hiding among the crowd.
“As I understand it, you did not fulfill this order?” the Second, who seeme
d more tranquil, inquired.
The oldest warrior of the biota made quite the impression. Tall and unusually massive for a member of his race, he radiated menace. The body of the general was clad in the same ornamental wooden armor I remembered from my visions.
“No,” I said, without going into details. “But I wanted to see the Guardian, and I went to his dungeon. The Seventh was there along with outsiders from beyond the Arras. They freed the Guardian, and then Eben...the Seventh sent me to the Gray Lands.”
“The Guardian is free...” gloomily summed up the biota warlord. “This changes everything.”
“What changes everything?” asked an inappropriately-cheerful, yet no less strange voice.
A smiling Portulac entered the room in the company of the cold and collected Astilba. The face of the Second twisted in shock. He looked incredulously at his long-lost friend and exhaled quietly:
“You..? But how? Astilba?”
The Sixth nodded with dignity and in a demanding tone returned those present to the original topic of the conversation:
“So what changes everything? And what are Vex and Lorelei doing here?”
This, however, did not prevent Portulac from tightly hugging his still-bewildered friend and shaking Kodiak’s mighty paw.
“Lorelei, repeat for Astilba what you have just told us,” asked the Second.
Having heard me out, the Sixth twisted a lip and hissed maliciously:
“I swear that foggy fool shall pay for his treachery!”
“Undoubtedly,” agreed the Second. “But right now we need to make a decision. The embassy is about to cross the Arras.”
“We have to attack them!” Kodiak rumbled confidently. “We shall tear off the Master’s head and the alliance will be consigned to oblivion. With or without Geranika, the Kartossians cannot be permitted onto our territory!”
“But the Guardian!” the Second objected. “As soon as we attack, he will interfere. He, the Seventh, the First, the rest. Are you prepared to raise your paw against the Guardian? To risk the lives of our brothers and sisters?”
“We have no choice!” Astilba barked angrily. “We’ve gone too far and sacrificed too much to retreat now. Geranika betrayed us, but the powers bestowed by him are still with us. Portulac has returned, his power renewed to heights unparalleled. Neither the First nor the Guardian can oppose the might of Shadow. We only need to hold them, slay the Master of Kartoss and retreat. If we act quickly, we will get away with few casualties.”
Hearing this, the Fifth took a step toward the table and angrily swept the figures depicting the order of battle from its surface.
“Listen to yourselves, madmen!” he exclaimed and, it seems, the whole dungeon shook with the power of his voice. “How calmly you speak of killing your own...You are ready to wield arms against the First herself! Against the Guardian! Against your own people! Few casualties...”
He smirked darkly and looked over his audience.
“You have already sacrificed too much. Look at us. We are all altered. We have torn our bond with Sylvyn. We are repellant to the forest itself. We dare not appear in this guise before the Guardian. The earth itself suffers from the blight that has penetrated our lands. Yes, the outsiders have brought us a lot of grief. But no outsider has invited such evil as you did. The schism in the Council, is the schism of our own people. Shadow stalks Sylvyn’s lands. The Guardian imprisoned. The land suffering. And now you want a civil war? Do you understand that Nigella will defend the embassy and, if necessary, will join the fight personally? Which one of you wants to meet her in battle? Which one of you can?”
His words had an effect. Everyone silently pondered what they had heard.
“You can,” Astilba’s voice broke the silence. “Your new power can do more than that.”
The Fifth shook his head.
“This is an alien strength that I have not had time to master yet. I cannot be sure that I will not destroy my own forest with this power that I do not understand. I cannot guarantee that I will not harm our people. But I am well aware that we cannot do without casualties. What is better? A questionable alliance with outsiders that might betray us and shed our blood or our own betrayal and the blood of our brothers and sisters on our hands? We will forever shatter the unity of our people.”
“Forever,” echoed the tribune, and his growling bass gave this simple word a special weight.
Kodiak bowed his head and lowered his ears, realizing the full weight of the latest developments.
“Between a possible misfortune and an imminent catastrophe, I will choose the first,” having finished speaking, the Fifth looked searchingly from one council member to another.
“The red orcs that once killed you, are now part of Kartoss,” said the Sixth, haltingly. “You suggest we simply permit them onto our lands?”
“I suggest we speak with the First, and reconcile with the Council,” Portulac answered. “And then jointly negotiate with the embassy to enter an alliance in which our borders will be open only to those who deserve the respect of the races of the forest. We will limit our assistance to the Empire, consolidate the advantage of our own laws on our territory. This is why we must participate in the negotiations—to protect our land with words, not arms. Even if this must be as a part of the Kartossian Empire, if indeed the Council ratifies such a decision.”
Tribune Kodiak leaned heavily on the table, staring at the map as if he was seeing it for the first time.
“I, Kodiak,” he roared suddenly, “joining the ranks of the Legion...”
“...do swear,” Ulver joined in, “not to tarnish the honor of a warrior...”
“...and to protect our people and our forest until my final breath,” the rest of the pirqs echoed the oath in a chorus.
Another silence followed and again it was broken by Kodiak.
“Portulac is right, Sixth,” he said, looking at Astilba. “Times change. Our strategy was calculated for a surprise attack. Now that the Guardian is free and the Seventh knows too much, we cannot follow our original plan. The war will bring only death, grief, and...” he trailed off, before resuming reluctantly in a lower voice: “It’s not that we will be defeated—we could lose everything. The forest and the Tree and the Lair. We are not only those who are with you, Astilba. We represent all those who live here. Do you understand?”
He locked eyes with the Sixth. The necromancer’s eerie eyes narrowed maliciously:
“We all, every one of us, sacrificed ourselves. We adopted Shadow to become stronger—to be able to protect the forest from outsiders. We knew that we would be exiled. And now you tell me that the outsiders will have more right to our land than we—in exile?!”
Anger seethed in her voice, her eyes gleamed fiercely, and her fingers flexed convulsively, like the talons of a bird of prey. Portulac took her hands in his and said quietly:
“There have been enough sacrifices.”
The necromancer’s wrathful, contorted face slowly smoothed out, her anger ebbing.
“The words of the Fifth have always been wise,” said the Second. “I am glad that the Gray Lands have not changed this. We must restore the Council and we must force Kartoss to accept our terms for the alliance. As for the exile...Nothing is in vain. We can settle on the other side of the Arras and guard the borders of our forest.”
Kodiak nodded in agreement.
“I’m glad to hear this, old friend,” he rumbled. “Wrath is a poor counselor.”
It was odd to hear these words from the hot-tempered pirq, but Kodiak seemed to have changed entirely. Looking at him, it was hard to believe that this was the very same tribune that had threatened to destroy Geranika but a few minutes ago.
“All right,” Astilba finally said. “Vex, you should contact your mentor, the Seventh. Let him relay our words to the Council. The Tree will not accept us, so we will meet here.”
She indicated a point on the map between the camp and the Tree, on the border of the blighted lands.
&nbs
p; “We want to speak with the Council and the outsiders before the alliance is made,” Astilba said. “If the Council refuses, we will destroy the embassy at any cost.”
Vex nodded in agreement and left the cave.
“We need someone who speaks Kartossian,” the Second reminded. “Is there anyone among our warriors?”
“I learned the language of the dark empire and will be glad to help,” I said.
“Very well, Lorelei,” Astilba nodded. “You are a bard, a master of the word, which means you will be able to relay our speech accurately.”
Quest available: Common Tongue. Description: ... Reward: Variable improvement in reputation with the parties to the negotiations.
“And what about Geranika?” Kodiak sneered. “We dare not leave that villain live.”
The pirq struck his left palm with the fist of his right paw.
“We shall send scouts to track him down. And when we find him, we will destroy him.” Astilba’s face again adopted a predatory expression. “As soon as Portulac has mastered his new powers, he will be able to destroy the shaman with his own power.”
Kodiak grinned, pleased, and turned to his subordinates:
“Until we complete the negotiations with the Council, our troops will remain in these positions, in full combat readiness,” he ordered.
The officers in unison banged their fists against their breastplates and hurried out to rouse their troops.
“It’s up to the Council now...” Kodiak took a cape from an orderly and fastened it with an ornate fibula at his throat. “Well then, shall we go?”
And without waiting for a reply, he left the hall to the salute of the guards’ pikes and halberds, thumping the floor.
Chapter Sixteen
The location selected for the peace talks resembled one of those fantasy paintings that strives to depict the opposition of light and dark. It was as though this was the precise place where the primordial force of nature encountered its distorted reflection in Shadow. The black intricacies of the thorny labyrinth, through which the tendrils of fog moved as if grazing herds, seemed alien here amid this ancient forest. The outsiders’ embassy, surrounded by biota and pirq guards seemed just as out of place. In spite of their transformation, the Shadow pirqs and blighted biota nevertheless looked much more at home than the motley group of NPCs and players from Kartoss.
A Song of Shadow (The Bard from Barliona Book #2) LitRPG series Page 31