“Devon,” Aijal said. “Champion.”
Devon turned.
“I’ll speak plainly if only to quell the comments of your annoying companions. There is one more thing I wish to bestow upon you before you enter. The civilization of the Esh has fallen far from the lofty heights we once reached. We have little in the way of treasure, and our rift with the Rovan faction means that we’re so busy with our own war that our aid in the coming battles may arrive too late. But I do have this, accessible now that your unlocking of the Vault will return lost power to us.”
Aijal, Mistwalker Shadow Master, is offering you a quest: Specialization
For centuries, a select group of Esh have kept an ancient art alive. Gifted in both elemental magic and the powers of the shadow-touched illusionists, the Mistwalker shadowcasters have been honing their skills and meditating on the powers innate to their kind for centuries. They now feel that they have the power to teach this specialized discipline to others. But to transfer the powers, the Shadow Master needs a focus item that has long been lost to their kind.
Objective: Unlock the Vault of the Magi and bring the Vial of the Mists back to Aijal.
Reward: Shadowcaster Specialization
Accept? Y/N
“Holy…heck yes!” Devon said as she accepted the quest.
“What? What is it?”
Ah, crap. Poor Hailey. The woman was still stuck with just a base class. Devon shrugged as if to minimize the new reward. “Specialization quest.”
Despite her weird moods of late, Hailey seemed genuinely happy as she grinned back at Devon. “Well, get to it then,” the woman said, refreshing the Self-actualization buff.
Devon blinked in surprise. “Okay, then. Here goes I guess.”
Her footsteps echoed as she tiptoed through the cathedral, trying now to notice the strange gargoyles staring down from the stone heights. When she reached the inner doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder. Hailey and the Mistwalker were shadows silhouetted against the bright light from outside. Swallowing, Devon pulled out the Ironweight Key and slipped it into the hole. The lock disengaged with a click, and dust puffed from the hole.
She tugged the door open and peered into the darkness.
Chapter Forty-Seven
THE DARKNESS IN the chamber seemed to swallow all sound. In the dim glow cast by Bob, Devon could see as far as her knees and outstretched fingers, but even her feet were lost in the shadows. She probed carefully with her toes before committing to each step, afraid she might otherwise fall into a hidden pit or something equally un-Keeper-like. After making a few steps into the vault, she stopped, swallowed, and began to cast a Glowing Orb to illuminate the way. But as soon as she began to draw from her mana pool, light flooded the chamber, the glow coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Devon squeaked, but to her credit, so did Bob.
The Vault of the Magi was rectangular and about thirty feet deep by fifteen wide. Entirely composed of stone, a light gray marble with the veins of black and white, built-in shelves on the walls held an assortment of oddities and tomes, vases and phials. Rising seamlessly from the floor were plinths of various heights, some topped with bowls of what looked like water, wine, and in one case, mercury.
The air seemed to hum, but at the same time, Devon knew the chamber was utterly silent.
She took another step forward. “Hello?”
All at once, the surroundings seemed to snap into focus as if completing the last step in some sort of reconstitution that Devon hadn’t even realized was happening. She squeaked again when a genderless voice suddenly emanated from the walls.
“Welcome, initiate and would-be Keeper.”
“Yes, hi—”
Devon’s words were cut off the voice continued as if oblivious to her greeting. “Please place the relics upon their cradle.”
Cradle? What cradle? As if in answer to her unspoken question, a long raised bench began to radiate a silvery glow. Upon it, there were just the faintest indentations in the approximate shape of the relics.
“If you’re going to comment that a better word would be perhaps altar or stand, I find I must agree,” Bob said. “Whatever magus devised this procedure had an active imagination to call that a cradle.”
Devon didn’t want to jinx her chances here by chitchatting with the wisp, so she ignored it as she stepped forward and pulled the Starlight Rod, Ironweight Key, and Blackbone Effigy from her backpack. The relics settled easily into the shallow niches. Next, she removed the Azuresky Band from her index finger and placed it in the appropriate indentation. Finally, she fiddled with the clasp on the chain holding the Greenscale Pendant and was surprised at the reluctance she felt as she removed the necklace. Not since the very beginning of her Relic Online adventures had she played without feeling the pendant’s weight against her breastbone. As she laid it into its spot, a shimmery sound filled the chamber.
“The relics are authentic. A new Keeper has been selected. You may retrieve the relics at your leisure.”
As the speaker finished, motes of light appeared in the air beyond the cradle, swirling together in a dense cloud that congealed into a robe-cloak-thing. The garment hung in the air for a second, then dropped to the floor of the chamber in a heap.
Devon stared at it for a moment, then tentatively stepped forward and picked the clothing from the floor. It was white with intricate embroidery in a multitude of colors dominated by gold threads. The fabric felt almost insubstantial under her fingers, but when she tugged on a section, she got the sense that it offered far more protection than it would seem. The cloak opened at the front, and complicated sashes and ties appeared to fasten it around the wearer’s waist.
You have received: Raiment of the Keeper
Slot: Cloak
By donning these vestments, you take upon yourself the burdens and benefits granted to all Keepers of Ishildar. The city is yours, and all that depend on and pay fealty to it are your subjects. Rule wisely.
25% Mana | 115 Armor | Indestructible
Wear: Bestows rulership of Ishildar and its vassal territories.
“Well?” Bob asked.
“Patience, dude.”
Devon held the sleeved cloak for a moment. After coming so far, it was hard to believe that this part of her journey was nearly finished. But thoughts of Stonehaven and the demons quickly banished her hesitation, and she slipped her arms through the sleeves.
“Jerk!” Bob protested when she shrugged into the robe, the collar knocking the wisp off her shoulder. The glowing sphere sank slowly to the floor. Devon crouched and retrieved the wisp, replacing it on her shoulder before tackling the garment’s closures. As she fastened the final clasp, the air filled with a ridiculous chorus of angel sound.
You have received a new title: Keeper of Ishildar
You receive 970,000 experience.
Congratulations! You have reached level 26!
Pretty good job, actually.
When the pop-up vanished, Devon’s mini-map flashed. As she focused on the UI element, the map expanded across her view, showing the entire city in great detail. Important landmarks were noted: libraries, fountains, something called the nexus of light, the Veian Temple. Devon felt like she could examine it for days. She could only imagine what treasures some of these places held.
Quest Updated: Demon Invasion, part 2 (Restore the Veian Temple)
Bet you forgot about this one! But don’t worry. A quest log has a memory like an elephant on mind-enhancers.
New Objective: Now that the Curse of Fecundity is at last banished, clear away the debris so that Veia’s light may shine again.
Reward: In the Ishildar region, creatures of Veian origin will receive +30% Damage and +50% Accuracy vs Demons
Devon shook her head. Yeah, she’d blown off the quest awhile ago when she’d learned that the Curse of Fecundity would undo any amount of cleaning and restoration she managed. But she hadn’t forgotten.
>
It would be nice to finally clear out the active quest entry. But more than that, the damage and accuracy boosts were huge. Enough to hold back the demon army, maybe.
So, yeah, time to get on with it.
Devon waved away the map and pop-up. “So this Vial of the Mists…? Any ideas?”
Bob snorted. “And now we’re back to wondering how you made it this far. Look left.”
When Devon spotted it, she had to admit that it was fairly obvious. The giant glass cylinder practically screamed out its name. Inside, light-blue fog was almost mesmerizing as it swirled. Devon hurried to the shelf, carefully pulled the vial down and examined it from all sides. The glass was chilly against her hands.
“Okay, anything else we need before—”
“Devon. You need to get out,” Bob interrupted.
“What?”
“Please. It’s Hailey.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
HAILEY GASPED AS what felt like a shockwave traveled out from the cathedral and washed over the city. In its wake, Ishildar seemed to come alive. Buildings, though still streaked with dark stains from centuries of rainwater, seemed somehow cleaner and brighter. As she glanced up at the cathedral’s facade, many of the vines started to droop, and one lost its grip on the stonework, peeling away and falling limply to the street. Though Hailey had no connection to the city, not like Devon, she knew immediately that her friend had succeeded. The millennium-long curse had finally been broken.
As she glanced toward Aijal to judge the Esh’s reaction, a sudden red flash in the corner of her vision caused Hailey’s breath to stutter.
Before enacting her plan to spend her last days of life plugged into Relic Online, she had installed an app to shunt her biometric data into her game interface. She didn’t know what most of the numbers meant, and she didn’t really want to know, there was no mistaking the irregularity in the little graph that monitored her heart rate. Nor could she ignore the warning icons that flashed.
Hailey closed her eyes and swallowed.
This was probably it.
Searching out a stone bench, she half-shuffled, half-stumbled to it and took a seat. As she swallowed, trying not to panic, the world around her seemed to waver, to fade and flicker in sync with the flashing of icons that marked her body’s death. She clenched her fists and pressed them into her thighs for steadiness, and as Bob had taught her, she focused on her breath. She forced herself to keep her awareness pinned to her senses, the smell of jungle growth that was now overlaid with the scent of dying plants. The warmth of the sun on her brow and the hard press of the bench beneath her.
Running footsteps came from the cathedral, and moments later, Devon skidded to a halt in front of her.
“What is it, Hailey?”
Hailey couldn’t speak. She wasn’t sure what to say. She glanced up as Bob tried to roll down Devon’s arm toward her but got stuck in a wrinkle of Devon’s clothing.
“Little help?” the wisp said. “I need to talk to Hailey if that wasn’t obvious.”
“Okay…” Devon shrugged as she plucked the wisp from her sleeve and held it out.
Hailey swallowed. They’d talked about this. She raised her hands, palms cupped to receive the little ball of light. Bringing it close to her face, she stared into the glow.
“Okay, Hailey,” Bob said. Hailey wasn’t sure whether it spoke aloud or directly into her thoughts. “We have the pattern. The representation has been working flawlessly while you slept.”
Hailey nodded. Every time she’d logged out to rest in the past few days, upon reconnection, her character had been somewhere else.
“I’m still not sure how to… What do I do?”
Devon took a seat beside her. Distantly, Hailey noticed that her friend was wearing some kind of fancy robe. She focused on the added warmth where Devon’s body heat reached her arm and the chill where the woman’s shadow fell across her thigh. This was real. Hailey just had to accept and believe it.
And as that thought occurred, she sensed it—the doubling.
All at once she could perceive both copies of her mind, one digital and vibrant, one fading as her struggling heart pumped less and less oxygen to the wet mesh of neurons inside her dying body’s skull.
“Yes,” Bob said. “You feel it. Now grasp it.”
Hailey hesitated. She’d thought long and hard about this moment. Growing up Catholic, she’d internalized a whole lot of lessons about the immortal soul. If she followed Bob’s instructions and this worked, would she be giving up the journey to Heaven? Maybe her soul would split in two, one half remaining, one ascending. Or maybe this would just be a stopover on the journey. The servers wouldn’t run forever, and maybe her real death would come when they shut down.
Regardless, no one would be able to answer the question for her, since nothing like this had ever been done—except in science fiction, of course. The capability was brand new, concocted by Bob and its arcane friends.
The scene wavered again, darkness encroaching as her body failed. Time to throw herself into the new future or fade away forever.
Hailey focused everything she had on the game. On the avatar she’d embodied for so many months. And all at once, her awareness exploded into the foundation that had been laid across the substrate of neural network and quantum core. She leapt, committing to the new representation.
Some would call it uploading, but that wasn’t how she felt. In that last moment, as the line of her heartbeat flattened and the flashing of the warning icon became a steady glow, Hailey simply stepped sideways into the representation of her mind that the denizens of the arcane realm had painstakingly constructed over the course of months. She chose to go on to a new life, leaving her limitations behind.
And as she took a deep breath and looked around with new eyes, Bob’s glow began to brighten.
“Yessss!” the wisp said as it rose from Hailey’s hands. Executing a loop the loop in the air in front of the women, Bob proceeded to boop each of them on the nose before spiraling up into the sky.
“Back later,” it called. “Got a Scrabble game to finish.”
Hailey glanced at Devon, who was staring at her in utter confusion.
“So what exactly just happened?” Devon asked.
Hailey smirked. “You know, it’s a pretty long story, and I think we might need some dwarven ale to get into it. For now, what do you say we go save your city?”
She stood and stretched, reveling in the painless sensation of movement. When Bob had proposed the scheme, claiming that accomplishing it would finally get the wisp back in the good graces of the arcane due to the realm’s obsession with organizing information, Hailey had thought the wisp was insane.
It turned out, she was wrong, and now she had eternity to find out what other mistakes she could make.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“OKAY, ONCE MORE,” Emerson said, still reeling from the last punch to the gut.
Torald grimaced as he cocked his mail-armored fist. “This is really not fun, man.”
Emerson looked away. It was easier if he didn’t see the blows coming. “I know. It’s not exactly awesome for me either. Just try to think of it as doing Veia’s work.”
He heard the whistle of moving air with just enough warning to tighten his abs before the blow connected. Clenching his jaw to avoid whimpering and making this harder on the paladin, he glanced at his health bar. “Okay, we’re there. Fourteen percent. Is the thing cocked? I don’t want to heal back over the threshold.”
Torald sighed as he checked the arming mechanism on the large trebuchet. “Ready.”
“Okay, shield,” Emerson said as he climbed into the weapon’s launch bucket.
Muttering an entreaty to Veia, the paladin touched Emerson’s shoulder, and the Creator’s Shield buff appeared in his interface.
Emerson looked down at the field below, the area a black sea of demon flesh. Even on the tenth repeat of this tactic, the height
s made his head spin. Before he could lose his nerve, he nodded. “Launch.”
With a loud thunk and a twang, the trebuchet launched him high over the wall. Emerson’s stomach plummeted, and he felt the skin tighten across his face as the wind and g-forces pushed it back. Gritting his teeth, he pulled up his ability UI and activated Berserk followed by Dying Frenzy, the ability that, when he was below 15% health, unleashed a major can of whoop-ass on multiple enemies at once.
Berserk took hold just he reached the apex of his glorious flight. Teeth bared, eyes wide, he felt power rush through his body. For just a moment, he seemed to hang in the air, and then gravity took hold. On the way down, Emerson started swinging his sword like a madman. The trebuchet’s aim was true, and he plummeted straight for a cluster of fiends. Lips drawn back from yellow fangs, they stared up in confusion as he dropped like a freaking steel-edged meteor, slashing through their group. A few quick-witted demons recovered in time to strike, peeling away Torald’s shield. But Emerson still scored multiple hits before the falling damage finished him off.
For just a moment, he had time to look back at the failing walls of Stonehaven. Since his last bombing run, a fresh hole had been battered through the curtain wall. Siege ladders were rising against the main palisade. For now, the defenders had knocked down all but a few before the demons reached the ramparts, and those that did surmount the wall had been executed and thrown back out of the city.
But the settlement wouldn’t hold much longer.
You have been slain by the ground.
Respawning…
Back at the Shrine to Veia, Emerson shook off the pain of broken bones, the memory of his organs sluicing down into the bottom of his abdominal cavity on impact. With a roar, he tugged his leather jerkin straight and raced to the wall.
Vault of the Magi: A LitRPG Adventure (Stonehaven League Book 5) Page 27
