And at the same time I loathed him. For what he was, but even more for what he had shown me to be, and for the response he was wresting from me.
“So soon?” Hen’Darl asked the man, sounding almost frightened. “Is that…” She clamped her mouth shut, lips pursed worriedly.
For my part, I was drowning, my lungs pulling for air that did nothing to sustain me. A tingle moved from my fingers to my core, leaving a chill in its wake as I fled. I would be safe as long as there was no I.
Yet, even as I fled, an anger built inside me. Who was this man to chase me away? Who was he to assert himself as more than me? I had just seen myself, truly and completely, and I was fine! Old emotional patterns might have reasserted themselves as the experience had faded—emotions that told me to fight for belonging, or that if I didn’t fight I couldn’t belong—but I had seen the truth. I was fine.
“Zen! Zen! Are you okay? You bastard! What did you do to him?” Mac’s voice came from far away as I made my way back to myself. I could see her too, her face coming into view as my eyes began to focus again. And then I was back.
Mac was slapping my cheeks progressively harder, trying to revive me, and so I grabbed her arm before she did any real damage.
“Woah, woah! Ouch!” I exclaimed. “I’m okay! I’m okay!”
Gazing over her shoulder, I could see the man. My chest tightened with apprehension, but otherwise I was fine. The sight of him no longer had so crushing an effect on me. He could only claim superiority if I was complicit. He smiled with those perfect teeth and disappeared.
In his place stood a perfectly plain woman: medium height, long brown hair, nondescript clothing. She would have been entirely forgettable except for her eyes: black eyes that were so sharp it seemed as if they could see into your soul.
Which they could, I realized. This was Kalvah, the deity Hen’Darl had asked to perform a miracle for us. She must have been the one responsible for the perilous journey I’d just undertaken—for the near-destruction of my mind.
“Thank you," I whispered to her.
Mac released me from the hug she had wrapped me in and spun around, looking to Kalvah and then back to me.
“What do you mean, ‘Thank you’?” she demanded. “What did she do to you?”
I couldn’t move my eyes from those of the god. She returned my gaze and, faintly, I realized that she never blinked. “She let me see myself again, but this time without help.”
As I described what had happened to the group, Kalvah simply smiled. Not condescendingly this time, but a smile of plain acceptance and acknowledgement.
“That sounds like dissociation," Varba said, after I’d explained. “Our brains try to protect us when something gets too… too ‘big,’ and sometimes they just...” She waggled fingers up into the air. “Let us go.”
Kalvah’s gaze still held mine, and once I had finished my explanation she approached. The others parted for her.
“When first you succumbed to me, I saw capability and desire both, to see yourself truly. It is not a trait held by many.” She gestured to the orc sage. “Hen’Darl spoke truly that I would contract with you—and with you," she added, motioning toward Me’Almah.
As if sensing my doubt, she smiled reassuringly. “Your companions do not wish it, have no fear. Other gods will earn their favor in time. As for you two, the time will come soon, but it is not yet.”
“Why, then, have you come, Lady?” Hen’Darl asked, her tone unusually mild.
Kalvah smiled at Hen’Darl. “There has been Unity, old friend. I brought the matter to Our attention, and was therefore chosen to execute Our will.”
I gathered from Hen’Darl’s gasp that Unity was a big deal, but was floored by Kalvah stepping closer and placing a thumb on my forehead. “YOU ARE IN ERROR!” she intoned, with a voice that contained a thousand voices. Not loud, but spoken with an impossible finality that rang from all of existence.
“BECOME CORRECTED!”
The goddess stepped back and gazed at me. I stood tense, waiting for something terrible or wonderful to happen. Nothing did.
“Well that was anticlimactic!” Katz quipped.
“The theatrics were an unfortunate necessity," Kalvah announced, unfazed by the gnome. “Deities may only alter a mortal permanently as the result of Unity, and even now only in some ways.”
“What did you do to me?” I asked. I trusted the goddess instinctively but was still curious.
“You had slipped into a space between player and true denizen of The Boundless. I merely corrected the error. Now,” she announced abruptly, addressing the group, “I must leave. I will tire myself if I tarry. I will see you two soon to contract.”
“Farewell, Lady!” Hen’Darl called, and then Kalvah was gone, another thank you still on my lips.
I opened my UI excitedly and, sure enough, I now had extra menu options. Customer Support! Quests!
When I checked my status page, everything seemed the same, but a new section had been added to the main menu.
Feats
Eye of Kalvah
You have seen yourself truly and have learned that perception is illusion. You are 5% more likely to resist techniques and spells intended to deceive, such as Illusion, Seduction, and Persuasion.
“Zen!” Katz congratulated me. “You are a real boy!”
Chapter 29
“Can she see the future?” Slynx asked once we had finished celebrating my instatement as a player and had remounted. Everyone rode close to Hen’Darl to hear more about our deific visitor.
“Not truly, no, but if you see a person fully, it is a small thing to know what they might do.”
“Did Kalvah help you to trust us, then?” Me’Almah queried. “That first day?”
“Oh no," Hen’Darl responded, chuckling. “I wouldn’t waste her time on that! I cast Truth on all of you the moment you entered the meeting hall.”
“You can do that?” Katz squeaked, his face red.
“I can," she responded, face serene.
“I never saw a debuff," Mac protested.
“You wouldn’t have. I posses a Class Skill called Insidious that allows me to hide my debuffs. If you had seen Truth it would still have worked, but you might have resented it after the fact.”
“Do you have debuffs on us now?!” Katz interjected, face getting redder.
“No, Insidious can only work if your target doesn’t suspect they might have a debuff. In telling you about it, I have negated its usefulness.”
Katz simply harrumphed and let the issue lie.
“How does contracting with Kalvah help Hearthstead?” Me’Almah asked. Having been singled out by the goddess seemed to have made her curious enough to break her silence.
“What you saw is not typical of her," Hen’Darl responded. “Her miracles are rarely rushed affairs. I call on her when I need to see an issue clearly, or when a citizen of Hearthstead has unrealistic thoughts that threaten themselves or our community. In those cases, the goal is to correct the thoughts, and that can rarely happen in an instant. Much like training a tree branch, it must be done carefully and consistently over time. Otherwise…” She mimed snapping a stick between her hands.
“What she did to our young friend here,” she continued, gesturing at me, “was something akin to setting a bone. She must believe it will allow him to heal, but he must be watchful. It is a simple thing to fall into old habits.”
“So it’s like… talk therapy?” Varba joked.
“Similar effects can sometimes be achieved through conversation,” Hen’Darl confirmed, “but not nearly as quickly or reliably. Kalvah cannot reveal a truth you do not know, but she can help to ease your acceptance of a hidden truth.
“Zen was almost catatonic!” Katz interjected. “Could Kalvah do that to an enemy?” His eyes were alight with the possibilities.
“That would be impossible. It is not in her nature, and a god’s nature is the surest binding I know.” Hen’Darl shook her head. “Very few deities i
nvolve themselves in conflict, thank Unity. It would be complicated. What if one adherent were to call on a deity to smite another? There are some who would simply smite the less favored, but those are gods to be avoided.”
“So how does someone contract with a god?” Me’Almah pressed.
Hen’Darl sighed. “In spite of what Kalvah told you, it is not a short process. You must first attain the Neophyte Class and then master a Class Skill called Supernality, a skill garnered through years of work with spirits of all strengths. Deities, who are the mightiest among spirits, often require contracts of tens of thousands of mana per day.”
I sucked air through my teeth, and Hen’Darl glanced at me sympathetically.
”The view gods take on time is different from that we might take. They are part of The Boundless and will exist as long as it does.”
“What do the gods do with the mana?” Varba asked.
“Perform miracles. A deity grows in strength and influence dependent on the mana they receive through contracts, and then they use that mana to act on behalf of contract holders.”
“So... they’re basically insurance policies," Varba stated.
“Even so," Hen’Darl responded, unfazed. “Though a policy with a very predictable nature. There aren’t many easy ways to store mana in case of emergency, and so exchanging it with a trusted spirit over the long term is often wise.”
Katz gave voice to what was on all our minds. “Wait—how do you know what an insurance policy is?”
The orc sniffed and glared down at the man. “Do not presume my people to be uneducated simply because our community is small, Gnome.” That wasn’t what he’d meant, of course, but he let the matter drop anyway.
I rode in silence for the rest of the morning, preoccupied both with what I had been shown and what I had revealed. Kalvah’s visit had left me feeling unmoored, but also strangely unburdened. She had prompted me to destroy so many of the barriers that had protected me, and had helped me realize how they had eventually become the bars of an internal prison. Even so, the realizations I had come to during my “trips” drifted slowly away, replaced by old habits of thought. Trying to keep a grip on them was like holding sand.
The glimpse she had given me was enough though, combined with the afterglow of ease within myself.
I would contract with Kalvah.
Chapter 30
It didn’t take long to realize the downside of Kalvah’s visit. Where once I’d received a steady trickle of new and upgraded Class Skills, I didn’t gain another for the remainder of the ride. Apparently, I would have to level them like everyone else, from then on. The quests I had given the team had vanished as well. Being recognized as a player hadn’t included being given access to a mana seed either, so I was left with Flow as my only spell, with no extra Mana Regeneration, and in limbo with my Class Skills. Still, it was hard to feel too upset. The afterglow of Kalvah’s intervention left an aura of easy acceptance within me. What was, was, and there was no point getting bent out of shape about it.
Instead, I rehearsed our plan. It was risky, but seemed to be the only way to achieve everything we needed.
Huth’Ga’s scouts returned shortly before noon, reporting the arrival of troops. We had already taken our lunch while riding, and now we formed up behind Hen’Darl, who pulled her mount to a stop, looked back at us, and began to cast. Darkness flared around the orc woman, spilling from her body in great rivers that swallowed light as they flowed. Her eyes burned with a void, and dark tendrils licked the green skin around her mouth as she spoke. The cast was much longer than anything we’d seen, with arcane syllables spilling from her for nearly twenty seconds. Finally she threw her hands out toward us, and the great rivers of darkness struck, hitting each of us in the eyes and worming their way inside.
I struggled on impulse, but there was no way to resist. Hen’Darl was simply too strong. As the darkness worked its way inside, I could feel a counterintuitive warmth spread through my head, easing my grip from the rudder. Experimentally, I tried to move a hand. No luck. It was as thorough a binding as from The Mayor’s Curse.
“Fall in behind the guards," Hen’Darl commanded, and each of us complied as she urged her mount forward. I could see the other players as they passed in front of me, guiding their mounts listlessly, eyes vacant. Then I was staring at their backs. I could see through my eyes, but couldn’t control where I looked.
Within minutes we heard hoofbeats, and Hen’Darl pulled the group to a stop, waiting until the sound grew closer and then quieted. It was hard to mistake the rattle of steel being drawn.
Hen’Darl’s voice rose from the head of our group, unwavering. My heart was in my throat at the thought of what might be happening. Our fate and the fate of Hearthstead stood with her alone now.
“Hail, guard! Are you from the garrison at Kalsip?” she called.
“We are,” a proud voice snarled in response. Male. Young. “Come to speed your execution, crone?”
“Come to deliver to Leonald what is his!” Hen’Darl responded. “Forward, you!” she barked behind her.
Now nothing more than a marionette, I urged my entosect forward. Edging around the others, I could see that we were faced with a small army. At least a hundred armed and armored troops, fronted by a field of lowered pikes and bristling with arrows. And in front of it all, a tall man dressed entirely in plate armor, only his head bare, displaying a proud face and long brown hair. This wasn’t a scouting party. I could only hope we’d be able to convince them to return to Kalsip.
Captain Garinold — Level ???
Hit Points: ???
Uh-oh. Hiding an NPC’s level generally meant it was completely out of your league. It didn’t even display his HP!
“Hearthstead has apprehended the dogs who stole from the king!” Hen’Darl growled, glowering at the six of us with a truly convincing amount of hatred. “Even now they possess the dungeon heart.”
“And you possess them, witch,” the captain sneered. “Why do they have hold of the king’s property? Are the women of Hearthstead so feeble as to not wrest a simple item from these…” he eyed us disdainfully, “...stunted milksops?”
Hen’Darl bared her teeth. “We had need of such a brave man as you, Captain. You!” She jabbed a thick green finger in my direction. “Give the captain his prize.”
Wafting forward, I held out my hand, unable to hold back even as the captain leveled his sword at me. Luctus' Auger lay unassuming in my hand, and he reached for it, his sword arm still cocked. The alert once again flashed in front of me.
Warning! Luctus’ Auger can only be safely wielded by one with access to the Ether spell. Without the Ether spell, the wielder will be drained of mana and destroyed.
Snatching his hand back as though I held a scorpion, Garinold seethed at Hen’Darl.
“What is this Ether spell?” He hissed at Hen’Darl.
Her bared teeth became a true smile. “Why, Captain, surely one so educated as you would know!” she exclaimed in scornful surprise.
“Silence, green bitch!” the captain spat, jaw clenching and tendons standing out from his neck. His sword wavered dangerously close. “Answer now, if you ever want to leave this forest!”
“I have no knowledge of this spell," Hen’Darl responded, unconcerned.
“Show it to me!”
“Of course," she agreed, still unflappable.
Garinold’s eyes became distant as he examined my UI. I could hear bowstrings stretching taut behind him.
His eyes focused only a moment later, but were wide with surprise.
“This is a player!” he barked at Hen’Darl accusingly.
“A player…” Hen’Darl whispered breathlessly. Her face slackened in horror as she gazed over my teammates. “The players have come?”
I cheered silently. Move over Meryl Streep, Hen’Darl’s coming for you!
Captain Garinold grinned condescendingly, pleased to have gained the upper hand. “Of course they have, you idiot woman. N
ot only are you in possession of the king’s dungeon heart, but six of his players as well!”
Hen’Darl put on a good show of pulling herself together. “That only makes it all the more necessary that I present these six to King Leonald myself on behalf of Hearthstead!”
Garinold sneered. “The king would not care to have his senses offended by your presence, orc. Nor can he be bothered with a matter of only six players. Not when Kalsip swarms with thousands!”
“Thousands?” Hen’Darl cried in disbelief, before composing herself. “Regardless, seeing the dungeon heart safely to the king requires my presence—as does the control of these six.”
The captain’s grin widened. “You think the armies of Cogneid would have need of your aid, witch?”
Sheathing his sword, he grabbed my left hand and roughly forced a band of metal onto my finger. Bingo! Once the ring was secure, he moved to the others and repeated the process before reestablishing himself in front of Hen’Darl.
Triumphantly, he raised his wrist. “Now watch," he crowed, and then activated the curse.
Hen’Darl sputtered as she feigned reading the specifics of the curse. “They must still be controlled!” she argued. “What if they should escape in death? Players are said to be—”
Garinold cut her off with a barked laugh. “You think a backwoods bog hag like yourself could outmatch the years of planning that’s gone into this?” Blindly, he reached behind himself, and a subordinate placed in his hand a familiar spear about a foot and a half long.
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