Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset

by James Osiris Baldwin

  After a small pause, he continued speaking. “The child is bathed if possible, given medicines and treatment to make them comfortable, and then the Black Brother commences a vigil, where he reads the Book of the Dead to prepare the child’s mind for death. The soul of the child listens, and somehow, a miracle occurs. The disease is conquered by some strange inner strength. The fever breaks. The infection begins to subside. The wound closes. The coma relents. If this happens, the Baru is duty-bound to nurse the child back to health and take them as their student."

  I frowned as I listened.

  "Once the child has recovered enough to travel, the first lesson they’re taught is the futility of disgust." Vash gestured out to the battlefield, his iron-clad fingers clicking. "That the sensation of disgust we feel at the sight of the normal, everyday processes of life is the corrupted soul rebelling against the truth of our reality. Blood and bile, sweat and saliva, the corruption of the dead and the stench of the placenta at birth. We ascribe these things to a state of suffering, of ‘filth’, without understanding that they are, in fact, as poignant and beautiful as the loveliest of flowers. So for the first years of your life as a Baru, you live on the charnel ground where the corpses are bought for sky burial. You meditate, exercise and eat among the dead until you feel no disgust – only love and compassion for the natural, normal processes at work all around you. Overcoming disgust and embracing the importance of reality in all of its fucked-up glory: that is the first trial of a Baru. For the rest of your life you are trained to endure and embrace what is real." Without looking at me, he motioned to me with his pipe. "And that has gotten me thinking about you."

  I arched an eyebrow.

  "I can prattle off a sordid list about my own faults as easily as I can about yours, Dragozin. I myself am a failed brother to two sisters, a coward and a kin-slayer. I am hot-tempered and easily frustrated, short-sighted and crude. I like to smoke and take drugs and fuck around too much. Every human has secrets more or less as terrible as these, and you and I are no better or worse than most men. And so I ask myself: 'Why am I feeling this terrible, profound disgust for you? There is little in the world which induces disgust in a Baru, especially another human being.”

  A kin-slayer? Curious, I turned to look at Vash’s hard-cut face in profile. Now that I thought about it, I had seen wounds like the ones that had scarred on his face. They were hatchet wounds, as if someone had hit him in the face with an axe several times. Somehow, he had survived.

  “When I say that you disgust me, it is not the earned disgust I have for Soma. That feeling is founded on evidence. You saw him this morning, thinking himself clever and virile and powerful, dividing and conquering his enemies as his father and grandfather did in the courts of the Voivode and the Volod. They were merchants not even three generations ago, and gained peerage because Soma the Elder learned how to suck the right cocks in Taltos.” He grinned wolfishly. “But you? Other than your normal human failings, what have you done to induce that feeling in me?"

  "Well, I used to drink sriracha out of the bottle," I said.

  He laughed, a short sound like a crow’s caw. “Isn't it strange that you say that, and without ever having experienced sriracha in my life, I know exactly it is? If a bottle was lying in front of me, I could identify it. Yet, if you asked me to describe or create some, I could not. Such are my feelings toward you - based in some sense of reality that is not real. It is like a compulsion that lies beyond me. While oathbreaking is a serious charge, when I dwell on the feeling, I find that it does not live inside me. It comes from some 'other'."

  I was paying very close attention now. The conversation with Rin now seemed excruciatingly relevant.

  "You fell to your death today," he said. "You landed on Corporal Lazan's pike and died. Ten minutes later, you emerged - alive, naked - and came to get your things. You were confused and stumbling like a drunkard... but you were alive. The rumor of your being Starborn is true. Show me your right hand."

  Oh, shit - the Mark. I hadn't covered up the Mark of Matir when I'd gone to do my corpse run. Someone had seen it, but it was too late now. I shrugged, then pulled my glove off.

  Vash jammed his pipe in his teeth and took my hand in his. He looked down at the Mark pensively, his twisted mouth sloped to one side. "Fascinating. You, of all people. Tell me - did you survive a disease as a child, like how I described?"

  "No." I watched him steadily. The leering, clownish man we'd met in the Broodmother's lair was not here. "I died from one as an adult. Like, really died.”

  He rubbed his thumb over the skin. The iron pad of his gauntlet was strangely warm. “Explain.”

  “Archemi is my afterlife.” I shrugged uncomfortably. For some reason, I never wanted to try and explain to NPCs that this world was just a virtual reality. After learning about the Frankensteinian shit that went into making them, even less so. “I come from… the world of the Architects.”

  "Hrrrm. It is as the stories tell us." He let go of me. "You know what a 'status' is?"

  "Yeah."

  “You have a 'status'. It hangs over your head like a stigma, and it tells me: 'This man broke the Bukat Kara Talom. Do not work with him, do not agree with him, do not help him’. While you carry this 'status', I am compelled to feel disgust. And yet, you are branded with Burna’s mark. This also comes with a status." He tapped the back of my hand. "That status tells me that not only are you the Black Hand of Burna, but that I should lay down my life for you if need be. The conflict has made me aware of something I had struggled to realize about the world before now - that both these feelings come from outside of me. A person’s Status does not reflect the feelings I have - the Status causes them. Correct?"

  "Yeah." I watched him, strangely fascinated. I was literally watching a digital entity gain true self-awareness.

  He let go of me and gesticulated with both hands. "My point being... I cannot stop this feeling. But I can rise above it, because Soma dry-fucked the Defense Force today and I am in half a mind to cut the man’s throat in his sleep tonight. It would be a mercy for us all, but instead, I will be counseling Istvan to stop him from gathering his men - the ones Soma assigned you - and riding out to take his chances as a partisan. That is exactly what Soma planned for him to do. He knows Istvan is too proud and brittle to accept a demotion. He will resign and desert with his dead lord's banners."

  It dawned on me then. "If Soma predicted Istvan would ride out... then Soma wants to abandon the Wall?"

  "Yes. Any fool can see this place cannot be defended against the likes of the Demon." Vash inclined his head. "He also wants you, Suri, Istvan and me declared to be deserters and brigands. He will pin the misfortunes here on our collective shoulders, savaging your claim to Racsa in the process, and retreat the remaining force to Litvy. There, he will conscript the local peasantry and take the fight to his own county."

  "Why?" I was stunned. “The Demon will destroy his farmland-”

  "And Soma is confident that he can simply ship grain in from the other provinces. The Voivode can command such a thing. Besides that, Litvy is the most technologically advanced city in the East," Vash replied. "It has magic built into the walls, I have heard. Magical shields. Can you already see the flaw in his cunning plan?"

  "The Demon fields devices that consume mana." I rubbed my face. "Is Soma really that fucking stupid?"

  "In his own field, he is brilliant. Here, he is mediocre. There is nothing more terrifying than a mediocre man who thinks he is brilliant at everything." Vash nodded. "I’ll do everything in my power to stop Istvan from dancing to our Lord's tune, but he has an obnoxious streak of honor that I haven’t been able to rid him of. And you, the Black Hand of Burna… You are a catalyst, a force of change. Like mana, you Strange everything and everyone you touch. For better or for worse, though... that is the question."

  Maybe Rin was right after all. I looked down. "I can give you my answer to that question, at least. I want to leave the world a better place than how I f
ound it. I always have.”

  "Then I have a proposition for you." Vash stood up, as secure on the small lip of stone as any cat. "Atone the way that heroes of history have always done. Atone by deed. If you are successful, you will wipe this 'status' you carry and bring every man and woman in this garrison to your side. Soma won’t see the foot before it kicks him in the balls."

  The phrase 'atone by deed' had a specific word in Tuun - Rigung Gul’ga. 'Crossing Ritual'. "What you're saying is that you want me and Karalti to fly out and kill the Demon in one-on-one combat or something?"

  Vash uttered an exasperated sigh. "Did your parents not teach you manners? You wouldn't put a finger in someone's mouth. Do not put your words in mine."

  My cheeks flushed hot.

  "Your task is not as difficult than that," he said, once he was sure I wouldn't interrupt. "You shall go to Krivan Pass and defeat what you find there, then bring back a piece of evidence to prove you have succeeded. And you must do it alone. Without Karalti."

  "Without Karalti?" I repeated dumbly.

  He gave a curt nod. "Such is Burna’s decree. You can ask him, if you like."

  "Ask him?" I rubbed my face. "How? I haven't seen Matir in like... jeez. Weeks. Months. A long-ass time. Last time he paid me a visit was in the swamp back in Ilia."

  “You really are dense, aren't you?” Vash put his hands together, palm to palm, and shook them. “He’s a god. Pray to him."

  I scowled. "I'm not religious, and I don't pray."

  Vash gave me a puzzled look. “You know Burna is real.”

  "Yeah. So?"

  "So why not pray? He is a real god you have seen with your own eyes. Unless that is also a lie."

  "No, it's not. I've met his avatar. Twice."

  Vash’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline.

  "Look, people - the Architects - they made the gods. All of them. They made everything here, including the Drachan. I didn’t worship anything when I was alive, and I'm not worshipping anything now that I'm dead." I gestured at the sky in frustration. "The Architects are just human, okay? Rin is an Architect, for fuck’s sake."

  "Rin is not human." The monk chuckled to himself. "But the fact remains: even if your old world didn't have gods, this world does. It would be strange not to believe in them."

  "I believe in him, all right. That fucker is why I'm here in Myszno, instead of sunbathing on a beach somewhere with Karalti." I sighed. "Anyway. You want me to go and do the Supply Train subquest by myself without Karalti, and after that, we're cool?"

  "Yes. After that, I should be able to look you in the eye without retching." Vash's expression turned distant. "Let me see... oh, that's new. 'Issue Quest'... then I just... Oh. There it is."

  Curious, I watched him work through the process of quest giving on his end. Sure enough, after a couple of minutes, I got an alert.

  New Quest: Reality at All Costs

  Oath breaking is a serious crime among the Tuun, and the stigma you carry for breaking the Kara Bukat Talom - however justified - makes Matir-aligned parties unwilling to work with you. Not only this, but Count Lorenzo Soma has done his best to sow discord among the garrison and undermine your efforts to improve and increase your reputation with the lords, knights and soldiers of the defense.

  Now you have the opportunity to erase both problems: after praying on the matter, Vash has challenged you to undertake the Supply Train sub-quest without your party or the assistance of your dragon mount. Not only will you atone for breaking the Pact, you will inspire the garrison with your heroism and not only reverse the damage done to your reputation, but exceed it.

  The rewards and difficulty rating for this quest replace the Supply Train subquest of the Unto Death quest line.

  Speak to the Chief Weaponeer, Viktor, or Sheriff Istvan Arshak to learn more.

  Difficulty: Unknown

  Rewards: +1200 renown (Myszno Defense Force), Unknown.

  Special: As part of the atonement process, this quest does not award EXP. The Renown acquired on completion only applies to you and your mount, not your party. Allowing anyone to assist you with the quest causes the quest to automatically fail.

  "Wait a sec," I said. "How far is Krivan Pass from here?"

  "A day's ride north-east by ground," Vash replied. “Give or take.”

  "We don’t have enough time for this." I frowned. "Two days ride there and back? The Demon's on the march and we might only have three days before a major assault. Can Karalti fly me there and then come back?"

  "No." He shook his head.

  Agitated, I jumped down off the edge of the wall. "Then how am I supposed to get it done in time?"

  He made a sound of exasperation. "Use your brains and find a way, you moron. And quit whining."

  "I'm not whining!" I snapped.

  Vash gave me a long-suffering look. "Complaints are dribbling from out between your lips, are they not? That IS the definition of whining. Now, either accept the cock-sucking quest and spend five seconds thinking about how you can get it done, or reject it and continue to dance to His High Lordship's tune."

  I eyed the quest. My first inclination was tell Vash to go fuck himself. But as much as I hated it, he had a point. And this was as close to an olive branch he could bear to offer.

  "Fine. I'll go figure it out." Furious and frustrated, I swiped the quest back in and confirmed it. "Karalti can pick me up when I'm done killing whatever is there, right?"

  "Yes. When you return after your inevitable victory, I will make sure that word of your deeds gets out to Istvan, to the troops and their lords so that we can wrap up this mummer’s farce." Vash blew a strand of hair out of his face, then hopped down. "Did you know that we still don't even know why the Demon is in Myszno? Why Napath has invaded Vlachia? Tens of thousands slain, the House of Bolza extinguished, the land scourged... and we have no idea why."

  I thought back to Lazar's mention of the plates in the library of Karhad. "No one's really heard much about Napath since the end of the Drachan War, right? When the Caul of Souls was established."

  "Since about that time." Vash cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, his gauntlets clinking softly.

  "One of the undead commanders said something weird to me yesterday. Just before he died - again - he said: ' We will take back what you stole’."

  "In a language you understood?" Vash cocked his head.

  I hesitated for a moment, mouth open. What language HAD the Wraithlord spoken? "He said it in... uhh..."

  "Not Vlachian. Not Tuun." He watched me curiously. "No one has ever made sense of their snarling babble before. In Karhad, the demon turned a Vlachian woman into a vampire so that she could demand that we surrender the city. Their language has been impenetrable to us."

  "I don't remember. It could have been Draconic." I shrugged, disquieted by my lack of memory.

  "Hrrrn." Vash frowned, the scars on his face twisting his features in slightly different directions. "Well, it matters not. Go now, dog. And pray to your un-gods that you make it back in time, for all our sakes."

  Chapter 32

  There were a few things I needed to do before I left for the Pass. I had Skill EXP to assign, potions to make, and travel to plan. But first, I needed to check in on Suri.

  I found her in the training grounds with a group of thirty [Militia Swordsmen] - a side-quest, I realized, as I checked my Quest menu and saw that several side-quest leads had been added to the list. She was pacing a square ring with a freshly repaired axe in one hand, facing off with a man in knight's armor and surcoat. She wore her breastplate and greaves, but had taken off the rest of her armor.

  "You’re gonna have to give up your shields and switch for two-weapon fighting if you can," she said, calling out to be heard. "Except for the volley at the beginning of a major battle, they're a liability. These rotters - zombies AND skeletons - are fragile enough you can kill 'em with a single good hit to the head. Tactic number one is don't let them swarm you. Shield on your back, push with your we
apons, disable the charge before they pull you off your feet or off your saddle into the mud. Watch this. Come at me like we saw the skeletons do: overhead, shield forward, as hard as you can."

  The knight looked dubious. "My Lady-"

  Suri’s eyes narrowed. "'M’Lady' me again and I'll shove that sword so far up your arse you’ll taste the hilt. Put up or shut up."

  Guffaws rang out around the plaza. The knight didn't like that much. He set his weapon and charged in with a roar, mimicking the swordplay of the enemy as we'd seen from the wall. In a single fluid motion, Suri stepped under the swing, grabbed the edge of his shield, pushed it aside, and bashed her axe into the man's helmet just hard enough to make him cross-eyed. She pushed him back. "Again!"

  The knight came in a second time, a low chop much harder to dance away from. Suri swung her axe down, knocking the blade away from her thigh, and pulled her second axe from her belt to swing it overhand. She just barely tapped the center line of her opponent's head. His lips quirked in a bemused, admiring smile.

  "You lot." She beckoned to a cluster of eight men on the sidelines. "Come here. All of you at once, full speed, real swords."

  The crowd of students began to buzz. I stood back, arms crossed, watching as they collected themselves. Suri belted her axes and went to get a pair of padded training batons instead.

  "Charge!" She barked.

  All nine opponents rushed her as a group, mimicking the aggressive, jerky motions of the undead. Rather than wait for them to swarm her, Suri bull-rushed them. One sword slid along her breastplate with a screech, but the men began to fall, stunned, as she took each one out with blows to the shoulders, head and neck. Soon she was surrounded by nine groaning 'zombies', each one clutching their vital points above the collar bones.