My tongue wanted to let slip another irrelevant question, but I decided to use my brain and think things over a bit. No one could guarantee that, goaded a third time, the Spirits wouldn’t send me to respawn. Nothing bad would happen of course, but I wouldn’t find out why they were so eager to see me. I mean, I have to know! If they want me to ask them a question—I figured this from their first two statements—I need to figure out what it was.
It must be somehow related to a game process, since NPCs do not deal with anything beyond the game, and therefore it should be related to Shamanism, it should be related to me and it should be related to my Way. Parsing several options in my head, I asked the dumbest of the questions that occurred to me:
“What Totem did Fleita choose?”
Boom! A white glow wrapped me from all sides as if a bright sun had exploded at my feet and for an instant I lost my sense of spatial orientation. When my eyes could again focus on the gray border between the two spheres, the Supreme Spirits began to speak:
“YOU HAVE COMPLETED ALL YOUR TRIALS! FROM NOW ON AND HENCEFORTH YOU ARE A HARBINGER! YOU SUCCEEDED IN TRAINING A WORTHY SHAMAN!”
Quest ‘The Way of the Shaman. Step 4. Training’ completed.
Quest ‘The Way of the Shaman. Step 5. The Student’ completed.
Once again, my vision filled with a tidy list of notifications announcing that I had earned new skills that I would have to examine in more detail later. An icon with the tooltip ‘Blink’ and an image of a portal appeared right in front of me. Reading the description brought a satisfied smile to my face: ‘Activating this ability will teleport you to the selected location of the continent. The desired coordinates may be entered by…’
Here followed a long text about how I needed to set up my Blink, the number of players I could teleport with me, the cooldown duration, and the restriction against blinking into the new Shadow Empire as well as various other information which—once again when I had time—I would read carefully later.
“WE ARE FREEING YOU FROM YOUR TOTEM AND GRANTING HIM THE MAXIMUM POSSIBLE LEVEL AS YOUR PET. HENCEFORTH YOU CAN SUMMON HIM WITHOUT ANY RESTRICTIONS OF DURATION OR LOSS OF LEVEL IN THE EVENT OF HIS DEMISE. IN VIEW OF YOUR TOTEM’S UNIQUE HISTORY, WE RETURN TO HIM HIS MEMORY AND REINSTATE HIM AS A FULL-FLEDGED DRAGON.”
“And he remains your brother,” came the familiar voice causing me to turn. An enormous, four-meter long, dark blue dragon, whom I’d already seen in the game’s launch screen was standing several steps before me, smiling widely with his two rows of sharp fangs. “I remember it all now!”
“So what Totem did Fleita choose?” I repeated my question over the surging wave of ecstasy in my chest. I was a Harbinger at last! I could blink all over our continent like some inter-dimensional cricket. I no longer had to splurge vast sums on scrolls of teleport! I could visit neighboring continents by blinking to their embassies! This…this was really something!
“A DRAGON!” announced the Supremes. “SHE SELECTED A DRAGON!”
My jaw almost hit the floor at the news. Fleita chose a Dragon? But how?!
“Thank you, oh Supreme Spirits, for initiating my student into the order of Harbingers. His time had come,” said Kornik, barely suppressing his laughter. Considering that even Draco was cracking up, the look of bafflement on my face must have been all too evident.
“Will you blink on your own, or do I need to hold your hand like a little boy?” The goblin went on having his fun—pulling me from my deep shock. The one week I had been absent really had seen some miracles happen in the game. What’ll happen if I’m absent for a month? Maybe they’d make me Emperor in absentia?
Opening my settings, I copied the castle’s coordinates and pasted them into the ‘Blink’ input field. I took a breath and pressed the icon, dragging it while I was at it to the side—I didn’t want it in front of me the entire time. The surrounding world wavered as if I had stepped through a portal, but a second later everything fell into place and I found myself standing in Altameda’s main hall. That was also the first time I’d left the Astral Plane on my own two legs, instead of being kicked out of it by the Supreme Spirits of the Higher and Lower Worlds. It was a nice change, what can I say…
“Master!” sounded Viltrius’ joyous yelp as the happy goblin appeared beside me, fiddling with his ears in his joy. “The Master has returned!”
“That’s right. I’m back. Draco,” I turned to the enormous Dragon who’d teleported to Altameda with me and was now taking up all the space in the hall, “are you always going to be so…uh…large?”
“Don’t whine,” grinned my former Totem and in an instant turned into a much smaller dragon, just a little bigger than what he had been as a hatchling. “Is that better?”
“That’s perfect,” I tussled Draco’s nape automatically as if he were some large, gentle dog that I hadn’t seen in a long while.
Buff received: ‘A friend’s joy’ (+1% to all main stats for 24 hours).
“I missed you too,” I smiled and gave Draco a friendly hug. No really—Barliona is quite the social game—unlike other players, if the NPCs love you, then they love you as sincerely as their AI permits it. In that sense, Barliona is perfect…
“Two Dragons embracing,” sounded Kornik’s voice—and, simultaneously with it, Viltrius’ panicked exclamation:
“Master, I cannot prohibit him from entering the castle! My authorization is insufficient!”
My majordomo really sounded terrified, which made sense considering that he believed himself the only sentient in the entire world besides me who had power over the castle. Kornik’s uninvited appearance, however, had dispelled my majordomo’s illusions about the hierarchy of Barliona, giving rise to pure panic in Viltrius’ very soul. I’ll need to play around with the castle’s settings to grant the goblin more powers—it really was no good that Harbingers could teleport in here whenever they felt like it. Plus there was the question of how Kornik had managed to discover Altameda’s coordinates…
“Next time you blink, make sure to close the portal behind yourself,” explained Kornik. Either I’d asked my question out loud or it was obviously imprinted on my face. “And by the way, what are you standing there for gaping? I thought that you had a million questions for me. The one time in my existence that I actually want to spend ten minutes answering your questions and there you are just standing wondering how I managed to get here. What person in his right mind would call you a Shaman after that?”
“How did Fleita get a Dragon?” I asked, once the words ‘spend ten minutes’ had properly sunk in.
“I’d like to say ‘just like that’ but it wouldn’t be true. She completed her trial like no one ever has. To be fair, there’d never been a Zombie Shaman to attempt it…But that’s not the point. When she re-enters this world,” (these words came as a great surprise to me, since NPCs do their utmost to ignore the players’ constant absences in the game) “you can ask her yourself about how she kept the wolf and calf alive, how she erected the bridge across the pit and demolished the statutes. Having earned the right to select a Totem, she went through all the available options, turned around without choosing anything, stepped out to Prontho and the Supreme Air Spirit and announced ‘I want a Dragon.’ I know now why you accepted her as your student—you wanted to pay us back for everything. With a Shaman like that, we’ll have fun times ahead of us indeed.”
“And so she was granted the Dragon?” I prompted Kornik, who’d fallen silent.
“Well try and not give to her! We had to take her to Renox, explain the situation—one of his older Dragons was just then getting ready to leave this world, so they convinced him not to and to be reborn again as a Totem. I should mention that one of his limbs was pretty hurt anyway, so in general…Well, no matter! Now your student has a Dragon and she’s busy training him. And she’s not dragging her heels about her own progress either—are you aware that your student is about to become a Great Shaman? And it’s only been three days since she became an Ele
mental Shaman!”
“They spent a long time asking me what it’s like being a Totem,” Draco offered his two cents, not giving me the chance to open my mouth in astonishment. Fleita was about to become a Great Shaman? Mind-boggling! “And so Aquarius (that’s the name he chose for himself) died in his old form and became the Zombie’s Totem.”
“Which is all a bit much,” said Kornik.
“Why?” I went on inquiring.
“Because Zombies can’t have normal Dragons,” Kornik explained. “They don’t have the permission. So I think when he gets his memory back, old Aquarius will be in for a surprise.”
“Fleita’s Totem isn’t an ordinary Dragon,” Draco said. “Fleita’s Totem is an Undead Bone Dragon. There have only been seven such creatures in Barliona’s history, and Aquarius is number eight. Considering that he is effectively a singular creature that other Dragons are terrified of…Well basically it’s not only the Shamans who’ll have some fun once Fleita will become a Harbinger—it’ll be a ride for us too.”
“And she certainly will become one eventually,” I completed the thought. “She’s my student after all…”
“That’s what I’m talking about…” Kornik nodded. “All right, you two figure stuff out over here. If you need anything, you know how to find me. Just remember to close the portal after you blink, otherwise anyone who wishes can follow you…”
“Master, the trespasser…” squealed Viltrius as soon as Kornik vanished, reminding me that it’d be a good idea to protect the castle from such visitors. No, I won’t do it just because of Kornik, but after all he’s not the only Harbinger in Barliona. Geranika could do the same, and we were right beside his Empire.
“What do I need to do in order to make it so you can block visits from any sentient, including a god?” I asked the majordomo.
“I have to,” Viltrius began, when suddenly his green face went chalk white and the goblin collapsed to the floor.
“Leave us,” sounded a familiar voice, addressing my majordomo and Totem.
“All right, brother. I’m going to go see our father. If you need me, summon away,” Draco said and dissolved into thin air. Viltrius followed him without bothering to get up off the floor. If he had already grown accustomed to my conversations with Heralds and even Emperors, then the appearance of a goddess was an even greater shock.
“Greetings, oh Eluna,” I said, standing up from my chair and bowing to my visitor. Even though we had no relationship formally, I was nevertheless the subject of the Supreme Spirits of the Higher and Lower Worlds and as such it would be idiotic of me to disregard the official head of Barliona’s pantheon of ‘light’. As they say in Barliona, all gods are equal, but Eluna is more equal than others. And that’s not a mere formality either…
“I think that’s the first time since we’ve met that you’ve looked me in the eyes instead of studying my sandals,” smiled the goddess.
“Times change,” I replied philosophically, noting the beauty of the woman standing before me. I guess Eluna didn’t have an official appearance, since I didn’t recall her looking like this—every time she appears to a player, the system processes what the player wants to see and generates a new avatar for the Imitator. The players like to obsess over the goddess’s perfection, compose verses in her name, go mad for her and generally behave like a bunch of fools. I’d probably be doing the same if it weren’t for the fact that, this time, Eluna had appeared to me in the guise of Anastaria. A perfect copy of the woman I loved and, judging by the system’s choice in the matter, continued to love. What is this—some form of manipulation?
“Eluna, before we continue our conversation, I’d like to ask you—do you have an appearance that could be considered ‘natural?’ I’m happy of course that you try to appear perfect for everyone, but I’d like to speak to the real you instead of a form of you. Forgive my impudence, but…”
“Shaman, Shaman,” said the goddess smiling and the image of Anastaria imprinted on her face began to waver and change. “In times gone by, you could be sent to Tartarus for such words.”
“Times change,” I repeated and barely contained a cry of surprise—beside me stood a woman from the Blessed Visage of Eluna—a detail from the chain I’d crafted back in Beatwick. An ordinary, everyday, pleasant and smiling woman with a turned up nose and several extra kilos in her hips.
“Is that better?” Eluna asked, adjusting her clothes as well and turning them into something resembling a Greek tunic.
“A little,” I managed, surprised at my earlier assumption that Eluna shouldn’t match her appearance. It was so self-evident now! “You wished to see me?” I asked the goddess, inviting her to sit on my throne. By the way, I will need to order Viltrius to add some more chairs in my throne room—besides my rocking chair and the throne, there weren’t any places to sit here.
“That’s right, I did,” nodded the goddess. “I do not want you to save Renox…”
The goddess had uttered a single sentence but she trailed off and stared silently at the fire in the fireplace. My initial reaction was a desire to argue that Renox was my father and I simply could not allow him to pass away before it was his time. However, I restrained myself and tried first to answer the great universal question of ‘Why?’
First of all, the goddess had come to me personally—and I made sure to check that I didn’t enjoy Exalted status with her and my Attractiveness with her was at a mere 57. Consequently, the first why is why she came to me herself instead of sending a messenger through, say, Elizabeth? Formally speaking, Eluna is not my goddess. The second why is why I’m not allowed to save Renox. Barliona had recently acquired a new Dragon—I’m thinking of Fleita here—and yet Renox, who remained unknown to most players, still had to depart. The Corp wouldn’t destroy an NPC of his level without good reason—consequently there had to be some larger plan behind this choice. The third why is why…Wait! Eluna doesn’t want me to save Renox! She didn’t say that she doesn’t want Renox to be saved in general—she merely doesn’t want me to do it! Why? The only answer that comes to mind is that something will happen during my attempt to save him. Something that will affect me as a player. Erm…I don’t think I put that well—something that will affect my character and make the game difficult for me. What could that be? The obvious answer was Geranika. Perhaps he has managed to acquire Rogzar’s Crystal in some manner and if the player receives it, then he can kiss his character goodbye. Although—this is pure idiocy. The devs would never pull something like this. If for instance Anastaria was saddled with such an item, she’d instantly raise hell demanding that the Corporation grant her a quest to destroy the item. Actually, while I’m on the topic, I really like this idea—of slipping an item like Rogzar’s Crystal into her bag. That would certainly make her squirm. I need to speak with Geranika.
“What could happen to me in Armard?” I asked and judging by Eluna’s smile guessed her thoughts pretty accurately.
“You saw Rogzar’s Crystal,” said the goddess, “so you can appreciate what I’m talking about here. Rogzar was unique and the crystal was one of a kind as well, but Geranika has other similar crystals.”
“Big deal, so I’ll have to walk slowly,” I smiled, and yet Eluna’s melancholy smile indicated to me that her warning wasn’t mere words. “Or not..?”
“Rogzar’s Crystal is the weakest of the weapons in the arsenal of the Lord of Shadow,” said the goddess. “The three other crystals are much more terrifying and valuable—they are called the Petrified Tears of Harrashess’s Hate. Do I need to explain to you who that is?”
“The Patriarch already told me,” I replied, gradually beginning to understand the gravity of the situation. The Tears of the dark son of Barliona’s Creator were a lethal thing even in name alone.
“A Tear of Hate has practically the same properties as Rogzar’s Crystal—it cannot be transferred, dropped, broken or destroyed…But, unlike the item you’re familiar with, the Tears block all abilities. All of them…You are
the main foe of the Lord of Shadow, who was even kind to the Emperor when he made a show of handing him the sheath to the dagger. But when it comes to you, he’s not playing around. I know for certain that the Tears of Hate have been activated because the entire magical ether shuddered from a wave of pain and hate emitted by these crystals. This means that they can now be given to some other sentient and then the victim will never be able to rid himself of them. You won’t be able to use your abilities—none of them, including the summoning of your Totem. Shaman Mahan will die forever, becoming simply Mahan. I cannot interfere with the events of this world directly. Even this warning that I’m giving you will carry enormous penalties for me from Barliona, but you and Anastaria are important to me. I really do not want to lose you two. Think about these words, Shaman. If you go to Armard, Geranika will find a way to burden you with the Tear…”
Having finished her speech, the goddess dissolved into the air, leaving me deep in contemplation.
This isn’t possible!
The Corporation would never introduce some crystal—even in the form of a Tear—that would ruin the game for a player. After all, the most a player can even be restrained for is one hour and repeated deaths lead to the ‘anti-death’ status in which the player is immune from other players’ damage, so the possibility that a player’s avatar is completely incapacitated forever is pure nonsense. An NPC sure, but not a player character. Otherwise the Corporation would be sued in a jiffy…And yet! The goddess didn’t simply stop by for a visit! She’s not some ordinary NPC with an average Imitator—she is one of the game’s key characters and any warning from her is equivalent to a warning straight from the devs—the Tears are real, they exist and there is a danger I’ll receive one.
Damn them all!
The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge Page 5
