by Turtle Me
I forced my consciousness away from the screen, focusing instead on the remaining shapes. I already knew that creating another cube served no purpose, so I began building the first thing that came to mind: a pyramid.
It was more difficult than the cube. The pieces didn’t seem to fit together correctly. They didn’t jump out at me like they had before, guiding me, and so I found myself dismantling and rebuilding the shape again and again. By the time my aether core was empty, I still hadn’t discovered the right pieces to complete a satisfactory pyramid.
Still, once my mind was set on it, I felt compelled to see it through. I knew instinctively there had to be a way to combine the shapes and figures into the image in my mind, and the next time I entered the keystone, I tried again.
But it wasn’t until my third day—my trips into the keystone were lasting nearly sixteen hours by this point, with the remaining time dedicated to replenishing my aether and getting a little sleep—that I succeeded in forging a perfect tetrahedral pyramid.
As before, the pieces shimmered and formed a solid shape, and when the glow receded, each of the pyramid’s faces showed an image, just like the cube. Each image was of the mirror room, but there was something very wrong with what I was seeing.
In the first picture, I could see myself sitting cross-legged on the floor with the keystone in my lap, Regis sitting in front of me, and Kalon watching over Ada. The strangest sense of déjà vu washed over me, and I realized that this had been the moment I had first seen in the cuboid display when I had completed it.
What in the world?
In the second image, the mirror room was empty except for the dozens of imprisoned ascenders. Then an opalescent portal appeared hanging in mid air, and I stepped out.
Despite being in a room full of mirrors for the last few days, I hadn’t spent much time looking at myself since my body had been rebuilt. It was strange to think that the man in the image flinching and preparing to defend himself was me.
My pale wheat hair whipped around when I turned toward the reflections moving in the mirror, thinking I was going to get attacked. My golden eyes narrowed as I glared around the room, then widened in surprise at what they saw.
“Who—who are they?” I heard myself ask.
Then Kalon and Ezra appeared, bumping into me. “What the hell?”
I was seeing the past, I realized, as if it had been captured by a recording artifact. The cuboid shape showed me the present. In the faces of the pyramid, I could watch the past play back like a home video.
Using aether, I spun the pyramid around to better see the third and fourth sides. The mirror rooms shown by those facets were empty of people, but when I looked closely I realized more of the mirrors were empty in these visions.
They must be older than the others, I thought, which made sense when I considered the two different sides showing me and my party.
If the first shape shows the present, and the second shape shows the past…
My heart beat rapidly as I considered the third shape. Was it possible?
My attention was drawn back to the cube. Haedrig sat next to Regis, his fingers running through the shadow wolf’s thick mane. Regis’s eyes were closed, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth—the very picture of a satisfied pet enjoying a good scratch.
Traitor, I thought, smiling.
Behind them Kalon was sitting with Ada, his head in his hands, and Ezra was standing before one of the mirrors, his hand pressed against it.
I let out a sigh. Fool. The boy was only torturing himself by interacting with those spirits. They had nothing to share but their madness and hatred. Listening to them would only drive him to darkness and despair.
Turning back to the images visible on the sides of the pyramid, I watched as our time in the mirror room played out again. I found it difficult to turn away, watching for the second time as Ada was taken by the phantom.
The false Ada skittered across the room unseen, distracted as we all were, and crawled up on top of Riah. Riah seemed unconscious, but she still flinched away when Ada leaned down, then pressed her lips against Riah’s.
Riah convulsed, one sharp, unnatural jerk, then fell still, pale as a ghost.
The phantom had somehow drawn the life-force directly out of Riah, killing her instantly. I had assumed it was some kind of aetheric being, like most of the monsters in the Relictombs, but I hadn’t seen anything as powerful or deadly as this.
In front of me, the false Ada, now restrained, snapped forward, almost biting Kalon. No, not biting—almost kissing Kalon. We’d had no idea how close to death he had been in that moment.
I shook away the thoughts spiraling in my mind. Reliving these past moments was a trap, like living life in a circle.
I needed to start building the next shape… and I knew exactly what it needed to be.
304
Devil's Deal
If the pyramid was difficult to piece together, the last shape proved nearly impossible. It wasn’t as simple as a flat circle, of course, but it had been thinking of life as a circle that had led me to the shape I was now trying to construct.
During my life as King Grey, I had studied a wide variety of subjects, including symbology. The “regular polyhedra” were an oft discussed topic in such studies, as the ancient philosophers of my previous world had spent a lot of time discussing their existence and meaning.
Which is why I found myself trying over and over to build a perfect regular dodecahedron from hundreds of irregular puzzle pieces. The dodecahedron represented a fifth element, the binding that held the universe together, and it was considered the mediation between finite and infinite.
I couldn’t think of any better geometric symbol to represent the future.
It was just too bad that I also couldn’t figure out how to make the damn thing.
I’d lost track of how long we’d been in the mirror room. Our meager rations had run out days ago, even though I hardly ate any of my own and the others rationed carefully. If it wasn’t for the water I’d brought, Kalon, Ezra, and Haedrig would have been out of that too, since drinking the salty fountain water would’ve caused them to die of dehydration even faster.
On the bright side, the phantom in Ada’s body seemed to sustain itself, requiring no food or water. Though I worried about the condition of her body when we found a way to return her to it, for now she seemed to be holding up fine.
My eyes fluttered open as I left the realm within the keystone after yet another fruitless attempt to solve the spherical puzzle. I was met with the sound of shouting.
“—just wait around anymore! We have to try it. For all we know, Grey is just waiting for us to die! After all, that freak doesn’t need food or water like we do—”
“—have no idea what will happen if you do what he’s asking—”
“—least we’d be doing something, rather than just sitting around waiting to die—”
“—a trap, making things even worse!”
Kalon and Ezra were standing nearly chest to chest, yelling into each other’s faces. Ezra looked somehow diminished. He had lost a few pounds from lack of food, but there was something else. He had shrunk in on himself, losing his bravado as he withered away into someone weak and scared.
Haedrig was lying on one of the benches, apparently doing his best to stay out of the family conflict.
I sighed and got up.
Regis, noticing my movement, said, ‘They’ve been going at it like this for about ten minutes. The kid’s been talking to one of the reflections and thinks it can help us out of here.’
What the hell does he think I’m trying to do?
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the siblings’ argument. “Both of you, take a step back and let’s talk about this.”
Ezra looked at me with purest loathing, practically spitting the words, “Oh, fuck you!”
I repressed the growing desire to cuff him like that brat he was, but he
ld back. I knew it would just make things worse.
“I’ll handle this,” Kalon said, his tone uncharacteristically brusque.
I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. “I’d like to hear what Ezra has to say.”
Ezra looked at me warily, clearly not sure whether to believe me or not. His eagerness for action won out, however, and he shouldered past his brother and walked toward one of the mirrors, his heavy boots thunking dully on the stone floor.
“Here,” he said, gesturing for me to look at the mirror, which contained the ascender with the tall onyx horns on his helmet. The man stood straight with his arms crossed, just as he had when we entered. “This is Mythelias, once an ascender. He knows how to escape this place.”
I inspected the reflection again, taking in the little details. He was about my height, though thinner, and he held himself like a soldier. His skin was incredibly pale, making his coal-black eyes stand out like empty voids in his sharp face. A single lock of grey hair had escaped his helmet, hanging down the side of his cheek.
The black leather-and-plate armor looked light and flexible—the armor of a skirmisher. It seemed likely that it was magical; the shining jet runes inlaid in the steel plates weren’t just decorative. The helm was particularly impressive. The long onyx horns extended over two feet from the top of the helmet, making him look even taller and thinner than he already was.
My eyes caught on something. A small detail, just the curved edge that outlined the horns. It wasn’t a joint, fastening the horn to the helm; it was a hole, allowing the horns to pass through the helm.
The man was a Vritra, or at least of Vritra blood.
“What exactly is Mythelias’s plan?” I asked, not immediately pointing out my discovery to the others. It probably wouldn’t mean the same thing to them, anyway.
Something in my tone must have given away my incredulity about whatever this plan was, because Ezra gave me another wary look again before continuing. “He says he knows how to use aether, and he also knows how he can escape the mirror. He’s seen it done.”
The young ascender hesitated, so I pressed him to go on.
“He—he said that the spirits from the mirror can inhabit bodies. Dead bodies.” Ezra glanced down the hall, to where Riah’s remains now lay. We’d been forced to relocate her away from the bench after the first few days due to the smell.
Kalon, who had been standing behind Ezra listening and looking thunderous, said, “There is no way in hell we’re giving Riah’s body to this liar.”
“And how,” I said loudly, cutting their argument off before it could begin again, “does getting this ascender out of his mirror help us leave the zone?”
Glaring at his brother like he wanted nothing more than to stab him, Ezra said, “He knows how to use aether. He can’t tell me how to escape, but he can show us if we set him free.”
“He’s lying, of course,” Haedrig said suddenly, not bothering to get up from his bench. “I’ve spoken to some of the trapped souls here as well, and they’ve promised me all kinds of things if only I’d help them escape.”
Ezra turned on him, snarling like a cornered woadcat. “He’s Vritra-blooded! One of the Sovereigns’ own. Who the hell are you to question his honor?”
Haedrig rolled his eyes, but Kalon started, now looking unsure. His gaze drifted to the mirror, taking in the horns, the man’s features, then shaking his head. “We can’t be sure, brother.”
Ezra looked his brother in the eye and spit at his feet before shouldering past him. “I don’t care what any of you say, I’m doing this.”
Kalon snapped. The elder Granbehl sibling grabbed his brother from behind, pulling him into a choke hold and then slamming him to the ground. The false Ada cackled through her gag, her eyes wide and ecstatic as she watched the scuffle.
Suddenly Ezra’s crimson spear was in his hand, but he didn’t have any room to use it, and Haedrig was quick to roll off the bench and kick the weapon out of his hand. It spun away into the shadows with a clatter.
“Get off me you coward!” Ezra roared, slamming his elbows backwards into his brother’s stomach.
Ada was flailing so wildly that the gag slipped from her mouth and she began shouting, egging the brothers on. “Knife him! Kill him! Kill him!”
With a heavy sigh, I stepped forward to replace the gag. Regis stood at attention behind me, practically quivering with eagerness to get involved.
Deal with this, I instructed him.
My companion leapt forward and his jaws were at Ezra’s throat in an instant. The boy quit struggling, and both Ezra and Kalon lay on the ground panting.
I let the moment linger, wanting Regis’s fangs to leave an impression on the boy.
We had passed a point of no return. Now that our internal strife had devolved into violence, trust was broken. I couldn’t simply let Ezra stand up and go back about his business, but I didn’t like to consider the alternative.
Making a decision, I mentally ordered Regis to let him go and gestured for Kalon to disentangle himself from his brother. Ezra stayed where he was, staring up at me wild-eyed and red-faced.
Kneeling down next to him, I spoke in a low, cold voice, injecting it with as much self-assuredness and authority as I could: “I understand how you feel right now. You may not believe me, but I do. However, I can’t accept your aggressive actions or your insubordinate attitude.
“Listen carefully, because I’m only saying this once. From this point forward, if you don’t follow orders, if you attack me or anyone else in this group, if you try to pursue this senseless plan of yours against my wishes, I will kill you. I will—without hesitation—throw you into the void.”
I met Kalon’s eyes, and I could see the tumult of emotions warring within them: protectiveness over his brother, anger at Ezra’s behavior, and his own fierce grip on what little remaining hope he felt.
“And if your brother tries to stop me, I’ll throw him in too. Understood?”
The Granbehls stared at me, fearful and angry, but I could tell they believed me. Kalon nodded, then nudged his brother in the shoulder with the toe of his boot.
Ezra scoffed. “Understood.”
I walked off without another word. Regis started to follow me, but I stopped him.
Stay with Ezra. Watch him and don’t hesitate to take him down if he tries anything.
‘Aye aye, captain,’ Regis said, eager to have a task to commit himself to after long days of boredom watching me sit with the keystone.
Five minutes later, I was deep in the gloom, far down the hallway from the fountain. It was strange. No matter how far I walked down that hall, I always seemed to be only a few steps away from the fountain. It was like the aether trap that protected the djinn’s underground city back in Dicathen, where—hopefully—my family was still sheltered.
All my life—my second life, that is—I’d been surrounded by artifacts of the djinn: Xyrus, the castle, the teleportation network… upon my reincarnation, I had accepted it all as normal, never thought to question the ancient mages’ accomplishments nor made any effort to learn more about them.
Was that what was holding me back now? The ways in which the djinn passed down their knowledge were much more complex than textbooks and tutors. Even when threatened with extermination, they had not been able to teach the Indrath Clan their secrets, because the dragons weren’t capable of learning the way the djinn did.
I had exhausted the capabilities of my current method. It was hard to admit but, without a fresh perspective, I wouldn’t be able to learn what the keystone was trying to teach me.
Putting into practice a skill I’d learned as King Grey, I began to categorize everything I knew about the djinn and aether. I thought through every lesson from Lady Myre, Sylvie, and Elder Rinia. I relived my battles with the retainers and Scythes, as well as the aether beasts within the Relictombs. I let Sylvia’s message replay in my mind and recalled the words of the djinn projection.
>
The problem was, I just didn’t know enough about relics or how the djinn had used them. Though I’d learned a lot since waking up in the Relictombs, my exposure to relics themselves was entirely limited to my time spent in the keystone, and I had the dead relic sitting half-forgotten in my storage rune.
I withdrew the dead relic I’d won in Maerin and began inspecting the dark, unimpressive stone, but only a moment later my attention was drawn to the sound of footsteps echoing along the hall, moving toward me.
I looked up to see Haedrig approaching, both his steady gait and poise expressing a refined sense of grace. Remembering how valuable even a dead relic was for Alacryans, I quickly hid the lumpy stone away.
“I didn’t think you’d be the type of person to carry around a dead relic,” the green-haired ascender said as he raised a brow, a hint of judgment in his voice. “Is that a blood heirloom or something you use to charm materialistic nobles?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. This is what I use to seduce all of the attractive women I come across.”
“Assuming that your physical appearance isn’t enough?” he added with a soft chuckle.
“Are you complimenting me or judging me? I can’t quite tell,” I said, unsure whether I was amused or annoyed by his interruption.
Haedrig took a seat a few feet away from me, appearing uninterested in the supposedly rare and expensive ancient artifact that I held in my hand.
“I’ll admit that, objectively, your facial features can draw some attention. But I wouldn’t necessarily call it a good thing,” he noted before clearing his throat. “Anyway, things turned rather tense earlier.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, looking away from Haedrig. “I—”
“You were right, though. I think you handled it well.” Haedrig reached out, hesitated, then patted my shoulder. “Anyway, it seems that I’m interrupting. My apologies.”
I shook my head. “It’s okay. I needed the distraction.”
“Ezra would probably disagree,” Haedrig responded as he got back up to his feet, the corner of his lips curving into a smile. “Good luck, Grey.”