Endless Online: Oblivion's Blade

by M. H. Johnson

  Val frowned, forcing himself to focus on his environment once more, wondering if he had been foolish, not putting distance between himself and the party of treasure hunters even now heading back up the corridor, angry words and cursing in ample abundance.

  With three swords and at least several blasters in play, he'd be an idiot to take any other path but gentle docility, particularly considering that the party had originally been at least somewhat helpful, before he had managed to offend them so significantly they would pretend he didn't exist at all.

  When a frustrated looking Sten entered the chamber he frowned at Val, calmly seated as he was before they had left, but saved his ire for the people entering just behind him.

  "This is why you don't go taking the initiative when we're exploring, Gregor!"

  The smaller man bristled. "It's not my fault this bloody place is a deathtrap. How was I supposed to know a huge slab of crystal would cut off our exit when all I did was lift a single stone?"

  "You weren't supposed to notice," Sten snapped. "I was! You were to leave these risks to me, til I got a feel for the story. But you didn't, and this tale has taken a darker turn than it had to."

  Elise frowned, turning her gaze towards Val. "Tell me you had nothing to do with this."

  Val was chilled by the ice in her tone. The last thing he wanted was another Darklord as an enemy. Damaged or no, Val new his chances of surviving his very first day of existence would have grown very slim indeed if Elise wanted him gone.

  He solemnly shook his head. "You yourself said I've only now come to life, helpless as a babe in the wild. That hasn't changed from the time you met me with smiles, only to leave me with nothing but the fear of dying lost and alone on this strange world only moments later, just because I hesitated for even a moment at agreeing to become your indentured serf." Val grimaced, realizing how petty that sounded, perceiving the folly of his words only after the fact.

  Sten, handsome features void of anything but hot anger stormed over to Val, tearing off his cloak, grabbing the water flask, and Val forced himself to do nothing, absolutely nothing to resist, bitterly regretting his foolish words already.

  "Nothing? We did nothing for you? That's why I gave you one of only two flasks of water I had brought along? That's why my friend gave you a Hesentian cloak that would protect you from sun, cold, and any number of snake bites thanks to its immaculate weave? Arrogant shit!" Deep green eyes flared with ire. He looked ready to boot Val before closing his eyes and collecting himself once more, now truly leaving Val with nothing, walking back to his companions.

  "We're taking these back," he said in a voice devoid of all warmth. "Not just because you're an arrogant prick who turned down a damn fine offer of friendship, a chance for you to prove yourself. We need the water. The front entrance to which this is the first main adjoining chamber has just sealed itself shut. Tons of crystallized altersian stone now block our path, and there is no way in hell our blasters can cut through. If we're to have a chance, a single chance at survival, we need all the water we can get, winding our way through this maze of a barrow, hoping there is an exit or a weak point in the structure we can safely blast our way through."

  Sten sighed, gazing hard at a blinking Val, who was still trying to come to terms with what just happened, the thought of being forced to find his way out of this ancient stone tomb with absolutely nothing useful, and then have to survive the extremes of a desert the moment he left, only hoping he could reach some sort of civilization before perishing.

  "Alright, kid, you might be a bit of a prick, and normally I wouldn't give you a second glance, but hell, since you're dead if you stay and we're all dead like as not, let's try this again." He flashed a wry, humorless smile. "Work with us in getting out of here. Do what you're told, watch our backs, and you'll get a fair share of rations and once we're out, a free ride to town, and some silver for your trouble to boot. All you have to do is give your Oath to Elise not to stab us in the back while we journey together. Well, kid? What do you say?"

  You have been offered a Binding Oath. - Oaths and contracts are very much the glue that holds this society together, and with a fallen Darklord to reinforce the point, far more binding than vows dependent upon honor alone. Sten has offered to share rations and allow you to accompany them while they search for an exit. In return, you are to take orders, help defend them, and swear not to stab them in the back or otherwise cause them harm while you journey together. Do you accept?

  Solemnly, Val nodded, surprised to find Sten as well as everyone else visibly relaxing, an unseen tension only noted in its absence.

  Val blinked, realizing the disturbing flash of intuition he had had while zoning into the weird mental prompt he had found just might have been all too accurate.

  For the first time, Elise smiled at Val with approval as she approached "It's about time you came to your senses, kid." She gently stroked his cheek in a gesture disturbingly familiar to Solena's, though he quelled the sudden disgust and horror he felt, crushing it to nothing. Elise's eyes widened, even as Halvar sighed with relief. "Thank Justice I don't have to vaporize the kid."

  Val swallowed at that, Gregor smacking his larger friend's armored frame before wincing himself. "Don't distress the boy with your drivel. He made the right choice, and all is well. Let's get this oath down and the show on the road! We have an exit to find and loot to claim."

  Elise gently placed her hand on Val's forehead. "Do you swear to cooperate with us, to do your best to follow orders so long as they cause no deliberate harm to yourself, and above all else, swear to cause us no deliberate harm until we have left these catacombs, Val?"

  Val smiled and nodded, shivering as he gathered a strange sense of silver knots tying around his psyche with those words. He smiled into strangely gentle violet eyes, his fingers reaching out to her temple of their own accord. "I so swear. Do you swear as well to share your rations with me, and not cause deliberate harm to me, so long as we adventure together?" He felt a strange rush of exhilaration, imagining a gentle silver loop flowing over and around her surprise, needing only sincerity to latch on and become an echo of herself, her intention, her identity. He realized in that endless moment that she could break his oath, as she could his, but that it would cause severe internal discord. He could only guess what that meant.

  Elise paled and swallowed, suddenly shaking, lurching away from Val.

  "By Justice I've had enough!" Val sensed as much as heard Stem's bitter curse, dodging and rolling before the man could smash his kneeling form with a furious booted foot.

  "Sten, what the hell are you doing?" Gregor, eyebrows wide with shock, stared at a furious captain, glaring at a surprised and frightened Val, gazing into the blaster aimed right between his eyes.

  Sten trembled, gazing at Val with black fury. "I don't care what a messed up little wreck you are. I don't even care if you're real, or just some arcane delusion cooked up by this tomb to throw us into disarray! You've hurt Elise for the last time..."

  Val felt his heart slam in his chest, panic and fury suddenly pouring out in equal measure. Time itself seemed to slow as his mind raced through the mad encounter with Solena, what now seemed a lifetime ago, desperate to hold onto any facet that would allow him to survive this day. He could all but taste Solena's cruel, sensual whisper, how it had almost carried him away from the first time she had spoken, how even with his strange Shadowmind skill, she had still had him partially under his influence when she had found his weakness, what he craved most of all.

  To be in a world like this, perhaps, where so much seemed possible, and he just a heartbeat away from getting shot.

  "Stop it, Sten!" Val blinked, as did Sten. It was Elise herself. "He did nothing wrong."

  He frowned, turning to her. "What the hell do you mean he did nothing wrong? I saw your face, Elise, the terror you felt! He was doing something to you, I know that!"

  Elise gave an amazed shake of her head. "He was, Sten, but not what you think. He was jus
t, well, he was echoing my own power back at me."

  Sten blinked, nonplussed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  Elise flashed a rueful smile. "I guess I'm not the only one who can oathbind, now."

  Sten gazed at Val. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

  Halvar whistled. "That's no small knack. When did you learn that, lad?"

  Val flashed a pained grimace. "I don't know that I learned anything. I just had a hunch. And like mirroring a sword form to learn it, I just imitated Elise's matrix. She doesn't have to agree to anything. It was just that, well, I just wanted to see if I could do it."

  Sten's amazed stare flattened once more. "You tried to oathbind our Elise, just to see if you could?"

  Val swallowed. "Not exactly, it's just...well, maybe I wanted to impress you guys a little bit too. Show that I'm not completely worthless."

  "By threatening the psyche of our Psion?"

  Val grimaced, gazing down at his feet. "I'm sorry, Sten." He chuckled ruefully. "It seems like everything I say or do is just going to offend you, so I'm sorry about that as well. Just promise me that you're not going to get sick of me before we even get out of here, or, well, kill me for an inconvenience, like I know you've halfway contemplated doing already."

  Psionic Oathbinding Rank One Achieved. - Thanks to your remarkable insight, you managed to grasp the very basics of this art after experiencing Elise's binding. Too bad your unimpressive charisma meant a simple misunderstanding nearly cost you your life! Remember, even a dozen oathbound thralls can't help you if you're too foolish to help yourself.

  Sten's eyes flashed before he chuckled ruefully. "Fair enough, kid. No blasting you in your sleep, no matter how much I think you deserve it, so long as you do your best to help get us through this." He sighed and shook his head. "We cooperate and we watch each other's backs, Val, or none of us are likely to see the dawn ever again."

  Val nodded his agreement. He knew he had little sense of timing, at least in this place and time, but he figured he had nothing to lose, so he might as well try. "Since we're trying to get out of here together, I guess you could say we're adventurers in common accord, am I right?"

  Sten frowned, though Halvar actually chuckled at that. "I guess you could say that, lad. Reminds me of my soldiering days. Why not be friendly and work to common cause with the natives and other units alike? No reason for us to be at each other's throats if no one was paying us for it."

  Sten furrowed his brow. "What's your point, kid?"

  Val swallowed, gazing at the captain. "Is it okay if I collect some treasure for myself? I mean, only whatever you're not claiming yourself, of course." He smirked. "Just as soon as Halvar tells me where the pockets are on this thing?"

  Sten shook his head, cracking the barest hint of a grin as Halvar chuckled. "Sorry, lad. Only two pockets, but I don't see why you can't grab some toys for yourself. It'll give you a leg up when you get out of here, maybe a fighting chance at a decent life after all." His maverick grin turned to cold steel. "Just so long as it's understood that we take first pick of every damn sight we find. You don't ever jump our claims."

  Val raised his hands. "Hey, the last thing I want to do is offend seven feet of badass special forces."

  Halvar blinked, frowning, his cybernetic eye dilating strangely, before he cracked a grin. "Did you just call me an elite mercenary?"

  Val smiled back. "If you took it as a compliment? Then absolutely. If not? Then I have no idea what you're talking about."

  Halvar chuckled softly. "I don't think this lad is a projection of this place, Sten. He's far too good at acting like a kid, ramming that foot of his right into his mouth."

  Sten's grin was all teeth. "I figured that much out myself."

  Elise smiled. "I can see why the Highlords are daring to breach the rift. If souls with Vals' potential are common upon his planet, they will be rich prizes indeed."

  Gregor rolled his eyes. "More likely he is the memory of some lost boy a thousand years old. Catalyzed into existence by some freakish mixture of Silbion and Elementium, a bloody fantastic fortune wasted in some doomed attempt to bring life to some long lost pharaoh's son."

  Val lowered his head, strangely embarrassed by the analysis. "But Gregor, if that were true, it was hardly a waste, right? I mean, I'm alive."

  Gregor smirked. "That's true, at least, even if you've only come back to sentience a millennium after your clan's empire was destroyed utterly, reclaimed by the dust from which it sprung. Still, better late than never, I suppose." Bushy eyebrows peered closely at a bemused Val. "Come to think of it, many ancient civilizations were ruled by a skilled warrior class. I don't suppose you happen to know your way around weaponry of any sort?"

  Val couldn't help smiling. "Light and heavy artillery, demolitions, and small arms. Before I enlisted, I practiced quite a bit with longsword, saber, dagger, and wrestling in high school."

  Gregor frowned. "High school? And your word, 'artillery', doesn't exactly translate. Do you mean blasters?"

  Val shrugged. "Sure, if it handles like an assault rifle."

  Sten gave a curt shake of his head. "Irrelevant. He says he knows his way about a sword. Can you use this?" He held up his small shield and a finely hilted sword that started straight but began to curve halfway up the blade. It was not made of any sort of steel, but the polymer looked exceedingly sharp, which Val tested with his fingernail, the weapon easily slicing a sliver off. Val noted the tiny blade serrations, which he thought would be extremely effective for cutting through fabric and leather. The shape was strangely familiar.

  Swallowing, feeling a curious sense of excitement, Val nodded in the affirmative.

  Sten frowned. "Prove it. Not against one of us. We don't have staves for sparring, and that polymer is as sharp as a field nurse's scalpel. You must have learned some sort of air form?"

  Hesitating, Val nodded, spending a few seconds getting a feel for it, finding its balance remarkably similar to a 1796 light cavalry saber, if a bit lighter. He performed a basic sword drill incorporating various under and overhand slashes into the standard set of eight blows that had been considered the core of English saber at one point in time, surprised that his wrist wasn't at all fatigued, for all that it had been literally years since he had practiced with that weapon. Still, if he had been brought back to life in peak form, such that his body was at its physical prime in every sense of the word, perhaps he shouldn't be surprised that he felt no strain.

  "Yes, but can you use it with a shield?" Elise's words washed over Val as he nodded, shifting his stance, leading with the shield, now using the saber as he might an arming sword, though thrusts he kept to a minimum, the balance and shape of the blade being far more suited to the cut.

  Elise gave a grunt, her gaze implying that he just barely passed muster.

  Halvar grinned. "Well, at least we know he can swing a sword without lopping his ears off or cutting us in twain. Actual combat will be a hell of a lot different, but perhaps he won't be complete dead-weight after all."

  Sten shook his head. "We can only hope."

  Sword and Shield rank 2 successfully quantized. Skills you remember having mastered in your previous life mean nothing until they manifest in the actual world. Only truly insightful individuals can channel odd recollections into useful skills

  Val frowned. Rank 2? He had no real sense of what that meant, precisely, but he had just performed some basic exercises with a combination he was not used to. Straight sword and shield with appropriate balance, or better yet, a longsword, and he'd like to think he'd do even better, especially after a week or two to polish skills that had collected dust for the last three years. Since no new disembodied voices or strange prompts manifested with his silent declaration of skill, he shrugged and didn't worry about it further. He was as good as he was, regardless of what some disembodied voice thought.

  "Alright. We're done here. Let's head on to the rearmost chamber. Keep an eye out, but only grab truly valuable pr
izes. We have limited carrying space now, and we can only hope to be able to come back for the Silbion later."

  Halvar looked up from the blaster he was inspecting and flashed the captain a placating smile. "I'm sure it will all be fine. We bought this tract of land outright under a development contract, and that includes all claim rights. Everything here is ours, and best of all, we didn't have to tell a soul anything more than that we're trying to harvest trace Elementium. If they think we're using giant wind-furnaces when we're actually treasure hunting, that's on them. We have plenty of time to drill through that altersian stone later, just so long as we get out of here alive."

  Sten grunted. "So let's work on getting out of here already." He then quickly led the way out of the room, Val following tentatively behind, strangely reluctant to leave the sight of his birth.

  "Come on, kid, no time for lollygagging," Gregor clucked, gently patting Val's shoulder, coaxing him through the triangularly arched doorway and out into the main hall. Val blinked, gazing up at the shimmering quartz above his head, both illuminating the grand looking corridor and bathing everyone in strangely tinted rainbows. He couldn't help but be a bit awed by the wonder of it all, curious as to what mysteries lay within the doorways they passed as they continued to walk down the corridor of perfectly polished stone.

  Val turned to the shorter man, even then frowning as the captain passed chamber after chamber.

  "Captain."

  "We'll come back later, Gregor."

  "But we're passing the scholarium! It could host any number of profound treasures. You know what those collectors will pay if we can get our hands on actual works of arcane scholarship! What if we can't ever shift that massive block of stone that eats lasers like candy without giving the whole game away?"

  Sten frowned, slowing and stopping his pace.

  "He's right, you know," Elise chimed in. "This might be our one chance to safely explore the library before we have to worry about inspectors and claim jumpers. You know as well as I that any tomes dealing with the arcane, let alone actual spell-matrixes, will be snapped up by those bureaucrats as cultural treasures before they sell it to the same collectors we would, under the pretext of trade revenue for Jordia, while keeping a nice tidy profit for themselves."