The mushroom-like protrusions on its back exploded a moment later and covered the Warrior-Knight with spores. K-Bar started coughing and retching. Aristobulus saw on the Party Interface that the spores had inflicted multiple debuffs on the former Marine, including two damage-over-time poisons and a partial paralysis effect. Amelia’s Whirlwind swooped down and grabbed K-Bar before he collapsed, but his Health was down below half. She dispatched one of the Undines to heal him while Aristobulus and Zippo directed their other Elementals to distract the monster.
The summoned creatures did their best, but their fiery weapons and stone maces did little more than annoy the monster. They bought K-Bar thirty seconds before the Zorgon stomped them out existence. By then, K-Bar had recovered and ordered the Air Elemental to bring him back into melee range. He got a few good slashes in while the three magic-users peppered the monster with every spell in their arsenals. Blasts of energy in multiple spectra struck the creature as it went after the Warrior-Knight. Ensnaring limbs tried to root the defiled Nature Dragon in place, but it contemptuously tore them off and kept moving. They got Zorgon down to almost half its Health; moments later, K-Bar rolled between its massive legs and delivered another critical hit. For a second, it looked like they had a chance.
On the next second, every moldy stump on the monster’s body exploded, sending spores flying in every direction. The cloud moved fast enough to cause a deadly shockwave that washed over the three mages, tearing through their defenses. Clinging black powder stuck to Aristobulus’ uncovered face; he felt his skin burn, lungs seize up, eyes swell shut. His Mana pool drained down to zero, and the spores he inhaled began to grow inside his body, liquefying his internal organs in the process. The agony was worse than anything he had experienced before.
He woke up screaming, the memory of his flesh melting off his bones still fresh on his mind.
“Easy, old man,” Zippo said. “You’re disturbing the other inmates.”
Aristobulus sat up. He and Zippo were back in Akila’s infamous Terminus Prison. The bastards had bound their respawning site to the local version of Supermax ever since their arrest, and none of the surviving ex-Herders could change it without breaking their oaths and dying permanently. Their dying temporarily didn’t bother the city authorities, of course. It wasn’t their Identity being chipped away.
“Where are the others?” he asked the Fire Wizard.
“Haven’t arrived yet.”
Respawning usually took three to six hours, unless you were in a Proving Ground, where you came back to life in a few seconds. Nobody seemed to know why.
“The guards told me that they’ll come to interrogate us after everyone’s here,” Zippo added. “I told them what happened, but they don’t listen to me.”
“That boss wasn’t normal. Something messed up is going on.”
“Chaos-warped,” Zippo said. “The rules said that you normally don’t get to pick up Forces until level 20. Should apply to monsters, too.”
“There are plenty of exceptions. Demons, for example. Guess whatever is going on in the Labyrinth is another one.”
There was a stirring in the air before Amelia popped up. And started screaming and rubbing at her face. Her demise hadn’t been any more pleasant than Aristobulus’.
And the worst part was that the city authorities would no doubt send them back to the Labyrinth until they fixed the problem or they became nobody’s problem.
Eight
This isn’t going well, Hawke thought by the time they were done with the main course.
Normally, when Hawke held a formal dinner at his villa – as opposed to grabbing a quick bite between meetings or training sessions – there were half a dozen guests in attendance. Kinto was a regular, of course, as well as Gosto now that there was a ley line portal connecting Orom to his Grove. Town officials and guild members often got invites as well; it was a good way to stay in touch with people without having formal meetings. And in a world without TV or the interwebbies, talking to interesting guests was a form of entertainment that Hawke had learned to appreciate.
Neither Gosto nor Kinto had elected to join them. That was probably just as well. Hawke didn’t want any drama under his roof. It was only him, Tava and their two guests. Blaze and Luna had picked up on their parents’ mood and decided to fly off and hang out at the guild headquarters.
Kassia and Horosha had arrived shortly after sundown. They had replaced their traveling gear with a matched set of elegant red silk robes embroidered with golden thread in intricate patterns depicting fiery elementals fighting giant snakes. Horosha had replaced the straw helmet with a small black peaked cap perched at an angle in front of his topknot; Kassia wore a golden tiara encrusted with rubies. None of their clothing showed up as magical to Hawke’s senses; that could mean that their enchantments included ways to hide their nature, of course.
Dinner started pleasantly enough. The food had been good, thanks to Hawke’s hired cooks, since neither he nor Tava were exactly professional chefs: Caesar salad, a spicy roast with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. Conversation had revolved around recent events, mainly Hawke and Tava’s adventures, avoiding the nasty parts while concentrating on the victories and treasure gained along the way. Horosha had recounted some of the deeds he and his ‘beloved’ had performed in the higher Realms: killing a dragon in the Endless Forest, rescuing a kidnapped princess in the Lower Water Realm, and their latest stint as mercenaries in the Warring Plains. The stories didn’t provide much detail but gave Hawke a glimpse of what awaited him when he moved up into the more powerful ‘zones’ in the game-like reality he now called home.
Things got tense after the main course, however. Kassia started talking again about the Red Spears Sect. The society owned entire academies of magic, held sway over dozens of guilds and other associations, and was a force that even the gods had to reckon with.
“Perhaps inviting you to join my own guild was rash,” she said while Horosha nodded approvingly; they must have had a talk about what strategy to employ next. “The Red Spears have few holdings in the Common Realms, and none on this continent. What if I extended the invitation to all the Earth and Realms Defenders? Even the non-Eternals among them would be welcome.”
Ah. She knows that my guild has dozens of Eternals. It’s not as if it was a secret, but when she spoke to Tava I was the only Eternal around. Now she knows that my guild is worth a great deal.
“It is difficult, to start over in a new world,” Horosha added. “You have experienced some difficulties here, in the tamest of Realms. Your challenges will only increase as you advance further on the Path.”
Kassia jumped in. “Having friends will make your growth easier and safer. And turning potential allies into neutrals or even enemies by eschewing their offers will only make things harder for you and yours. For my daughter’s sake, I ask you to think long and hard before you refuse our offer.”
Hawke and Tava exchanged a glance and she reluctantly nodded. He had one card to play, one that he would prefer to keep private, but he wanted to keep the Red Spears away from his guild. Saturnyx had explained that sects demanded a lot from their subordinate guilds, anything from turning over a large percentage of any loot they earned to using them as cannon fodder against other sects. And any group that made you offers you couldn’t refuse was one that Hawke had zero interest in joining.
“I will tell you why I cannot accept your kind invitation, now or in the future,” he said, repressing a smile when his guests gasped in surprise. “First of all, I made an oath to the Triune Goddesses and I cannot join any organization that might make me forswear myself.”
“Gods. Foolish of you to bind yourself further than your obligations as a Paladin demands from you,” the now scowling Kassia said. “But the Red Spears fear no gods. Our Sect Masters have fought the Olympians themselves!”
“I am also bound to someone else. Someone I don’t think the Red Spears want to antagonize.”
At Hawke’s mental c
ommand, a bright sphere appeared next to his nameplate and stat box, visible to Adventurers or Arcane Professionals. The sphere stood perfectly still until a glowing hand appeared out of nowhere, touched it, and made it spin, setting multiple worlds in motion. The entire magical ‘gif’ was the Mark of the Prime Mover, the Maker of Makers. Anyone who saw it immediately understood its significance.
The two veteran Adventurers recoiled from the sight like vampires facing a holy symbol.
Hawke smiled. Sometimes it paid to be someone’s puppet.
* * *
Two weeks ago:
The view from the reconstructed Blue Tower was amazing.
Hawke stood on the balcony and looked out of Jake Duchamp’s quarters, forty-seven stories above the ground. Seven hundred feet up. There were plenty of skyscrapers on Earth that were much taller than that, but it was still dizzying to look down on the sprawling city below, a blob of tightly-packed buildings with twisty streets and alleys except for the handful of straight avenues that separated Akila’s many districts. Off to the west, dozens of canals turned the neighborhoods in the area into a collection of islands. The tall walls surrounding the entire settlement looked tiny from that height.
Only a handful of other structures matched the Council’s Tower in size. The largest one, a bright red tower topped by a golden dome, was a good hundred feet taller. It was only a couple of blocks away, close enough that he could see intricate carvings of dragons covering the scarlet walls. Hawke turned to his host and tour guide.
“Who owns that red tower?”
“Ah, the Scarlet Fang,” Jake said with a smile. “That is something of a tourist attraction and an Adventurers’ challenge rolled into one. I’m surprised nobody’s told you the story behind it.”
“Most visits here, I’ve been too busy trying not to get killed to play tourist. Or just busy.”
“I hear you. Well, long story short, the Fang was built by a great dragon, the last one to dwell in this region, about twelve hundred years ago. It’s the oldest standing structure in Akila, and has survived multiple wars and a couple of city-wide collapses. Unfortunately, it has been vacant for almost as long.”
“Vacant?”
“Yes. Its owner, Ardentus the Bright, locked up his tower and hid the key in the depths of the Malleus Mallum. Nobody’s found it yet, and those who have tried to break into the tower without the key have regretted it for the rest of their very short lives.”
“Interesting. Let me guess, the tower is supposed to be chock full of loot, isn’t it?”
“So it is said. For all anyone knows, the place is a big empty ruin on the inside, but every few years some idiot tries to breach a wall using magic or brute force. The City Guards collect what’s left of them and people get something to gossip about for a few days.”
Hawke was tempted to check the Red Fang up close and use his Advanced Mana Sight on it. Maybe he could learn something of value from it. But that would have to wait. He had too much stuff to do back in Orom, and this was the first time his busy schedule and Jake’s had allowed for a meeting.
“Back to business,” he said, turning his back on the balcony and the amazing sights.
“Yes. The Mark of the Prime Mover.”
“Heh. Makers’ Mark. Never been a bourbon drinker.”
Jake looked at him strangely. “Damned if I know what you are talking about?”
“Guess they came up with that brand of booze after your time,” Hawke said.
Jake shrugged. “Anything you say, pal. In any case, I spotted the mark when we were linked mind-to-mind. You probably would have figured it out eventually, but I wanted to give you a heads up.”
“How come I didn’t know I had a mark, whatever a mark is?”
Saturnyx confirmed.
“It’s not easy to spot, even for someone who can see the flow of Mana. And I recognized it only because I’ve seen it before. We were busy, as I’m sure you can remember. The only way to show you now is to go through another Communion spell.”
Hawke didn’t like the idea of letting Jake into his head again, especially since the spell was the key to destroying Eternals by wiping out their Identity. He decided to go for it, however. Saturnyx would jump in to help if something went wrong – the sword could drag anyone linked to Hawke’s mind into her personal dimension – and Blaze was nearby, munching on a couple of raw turkey carcasses. The Drakofox had learned a trick Rangers could use on their pets, shrinking them to fit in small spaces. He was now only slightly larger than he’d been when newly hatched, but his appetite remained the same. Small or not, if Blaze realized his adoptive father was in trouble, he’d jump in. Hawke should be safe enough and knowing for sure which Maker had been helping him was worth the risk.
Once again, he caught glimpses of Jake’s mind. The sadness and resignation he had felt before were still there, but he also picked up a new sense of purpose in the old wizard. Jake was interested in things again. Maybe enough to get back on the Path to Power. That could mean a lot of different things; Jake could become an important ally or a dangerous rival. Even inside the wizard’s head, Hawke couldn’t figure out what he was planning.
“I was right. Let me show you,” Jake said.
The mindscape around Hawke changed. He found himself staring down at a speck of light that soon began to grow and resolve into a planet very much like Earth, with the same combination of blue, white and brown he’d seen in plenty of pictures, except the proportion between brown landmasses and blue oceans was closer to even than the seventy-thirty ratio on Hawke’s native planet.
There was more than a mere planet, however. Overlain over the main world were other spheres, some smaller, others much larger. All revolved around the same spot but were in different phases of existence, like web pages on the same browser, connected only through special gateways. The Realms. He counted twelve of them, counting the Common one. He couldn’t tell much about the other spheres, other than some weren’t shaped like regular planets. Some appeared to be hollow. One looked like a tower taller than Earth, set up in tiers, each narrower than the one below. Another was filled with five smaller spheres arranged like so many electrons around a central nucleus, and he realized that each sphere corresponded to an Element; those had to be the Elemental Realms.
There were many worlds. If this were a game, he would have loved the seemingly endless possibilities contained within the Realms. But this was his life. He pictured himself spending decades or even centuries exploring those places and felt a twinge of despair. He began to understand why Jake had given up and crawled back into a comfortable niche in the Common Realm.
Saturnyx’s words comforted and bothered him at the same time. He had a feeling that he might regret not visiting as many places as he could. But at least he would have some choice in the matter. Before he could continue on that train of thought, the scene before him changed. The spheres scattered, disappeared, and the Common Realm itself changed: its waters receded, as did the clouds above, turning the live planet into a barren rock circling a star. A lifeless star system among trillions of others.
Is that the future? The end of the Realms?
“No,” Jake said. “It’s the beginning.”
That was when Hawke saw the Hand of the Prime Mover.
At least, he perceived it as a colossal glowing hand that reached down and touched the lifeless rock and changed it. That was probably an illusion his brain made up to explain something he couldn’t fully understand. He saw a speeded-up version of the creation of the Common Realm: the Hand guided hundreds of comets into the planet, delivering their water and mass into it, creating an atmosphere and bodies of water. Then came millions of portals linked to different planets or perhaps dimensions, bringing animals and plants, everything from microbes to giant monsters. H
umans from Earth. Fae from alternate Earths and other planes of existence. Goblinoids from their own worlds. Dwarves from an Earth where they had evolved from Neanderthal cave dwellers and pushed aside Homo Sapiens. The denizens of hellish dimensions. And many others.
After the Common Realm was populated, the other spheres were added, some using the mass from other planets in the star system, other made of pure energy from God knew where. The Hand, the Prime Mover, he wasn’t the Creator, but he could play with the rules of the universe to get what he wanted: a star system where magic was real. Were there other worlds like that?
The whole thing finally shrank down into a glowing sphere with the Hand touching it. That was the mark of the Prime Mover, and if you started at it long enough, the whole scene he had just seen would start playing in your head. And it was attached to him, like a rancher’s brand on the side of a cow. The Prime Mover had made Hawke one of his own.
The Communion spell ended, and Hawke closed his eyes. He had a mother of a headache.
“That’s not a mark, that’s a freaking movie production,” he grumbled.
“It does make an impression, doesn’t it?” Jake said. “I’ve seen it once before. That’s the only reason I recognized it when our minds were connected.”
“Where did you see it?”
The wizard grimaced. “A former friend of mine. He turned out to be an agent of the Prime Mover. He wasn’t an Eternal but something just as powerful. A demigod. Son of a mortal human and a powerful but nasty bastard by the name of Tezcatlipoca.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
“Pray you never meet him. He makes the Roman gods look like pussycats. Anyway, this demigod had it. Showed it to me to prove that he meant business.”
“What happened to him?”
Jake shook his head. “That’s a long story with no happy endings for anybody concerned. Maybe we should save it for another time.”
“So what does it mean?”
“It means that the Prime – not to be confused with Arbiter Primus – has marked you as his own. Now that you know you have the Mark, you can show it to others. I wouldn’t advertise it openly, mind you.”
Court of Thorns: A LitRPG Story Page 7