The Adept Archives: Volumes 1-3

by Darren Hultberg Jr

Then the pair leapt through the open window and into the wild streets.

  ****

  Azure light pooled in the center of Yoshiro’s spiritcrafting circle, illuminating the entirety of his room. In most instances, a circle like this was used to contain spiritual energy, especially when one was crafting powerful weapons or tools. However, those skilled in the long-forgotten technique of water whispering could use it for something else... communication.

  The old man stepped back as the circle’s light grew in intensity, leaning on his fishing pole for support. Slowly, the light stretched out of the circle, flowing like water as it assumed the shape of a man. No, not a man... but a benevolent dragon.

  Yoshiro straightened his posture best he could as the watery dragon clone fully came into form, staring him down with this piercing azure eyes... the eyes of the dragon god, Cipherion.

  “Speak, my herald,” the dragon god said, his mere voice causing the entire room to rattle.

  “I have done as requested, my lord,” the old man replied. “I’ve secured a position with the outrealmer and his group.”

  “Do they... suspect anything?”

  “No,” Yoshiro continued. “I gave the outrealmer a little boost of power when he ascended, causing him to destroy my home. They thought they were doing me a favor by allowing me into their group.”

  “Good,” Cipherion said, his voice fearsome yet majestic. “What have you heard of the machinations of my brother, Bahamut?”

  “Little, my lord.” Yoshiro replied. “I know that the dragon sent his herald down directly to try and recruit the outrealmer, but he has remained quiet since then. I’ve taken my own precautions, lining the room with scrying runes just as I did my home.”

  Cipherion nodded, allowing an uncomfortable silence to settle in the small room. “Very well,” he finally said as his watery form began to dissipate. “Continue to monitor the others. Guide them when necessary... and when the time is right, my influence will be known.”

  “And if they reject you for the other?” Yoshiro asked, speaking with a careful tone.

  Cipherion bared his teeth, causing the old man to flinch. “Then they will be obliterated... for I am Cipherion, and the realm of Eon will be mine.”

  Epilogue

  The Barrens, western Eon

  It took precisely one day, three hours, and seventeen minutes for Ayzeth Kaito to fall out of the sky... and for each and every second of that he was plotting. Never in his life had the devil adept suffered a defeat like this, never had he been so humiliated. Then again, he’d never had to face the power of a spirit magus before.

  The adept landed somewhere in Eon’s western barrens, creating a shallow crater when his body slammed into the earth. It was a fall that would’ve killed many, but Ayzeth was resourceful. Using his obsidian skin technique coupled with a swirling cloak of spirit aura, he managed to survive the ordeal mostly unscathed...

  That is, in a physical sense.

  In his mind, the memory of his loss replayed over and over. But rather than avert his focus, the devil adept allowed the pain of his loss to simmer in the pit of his soul. Ayzeth was a butcher, and once he regrouped, he would charge back through the gates of Shadowreach, avenge his fallen brothers and tear every last adept in that city to pieces.

  Fueled by a desire for revenge, Ayzeth began trudging across the barrens, his destructive aura sheltering him from the biting sands. He walked for hours, making his way east as hunger pains bit at his insides and sleep depravity pulled at his eyelids.

  For a moment, the devil adept’s situation looked dire. Then came the night and the onset of the vale. Ayzeth head never feared the darkness or what it brought. In fact, his power set closely resembled that of some of the more powerful darkbeasts. Unfortunately, the creatures of the night were also scavengers... and to them, his spirit was a savory meal.

  It only took mere moments for the lesser darkbeasts to appear, spawning like vultures ready to descend on their carrion feed. Ayzeth responded with brutality, ripping the creatures apart as they approached. His claws tore through gray flesh and his abrasive spirit energy burned away the beasts at his flank, causing a swell of soul essence to rise into the air above his head.

  Again and again, more waves of darkbeasts continued to rush at him, chipping away at his defenses before dying at his feet. Each beast that approached felt all of his rage, all of his anger and hate that he had built for the Bonaduce siblings...

  And then they stopped.

  Silence befell him once again as the lesser darkbeasts ceased their assault, disappearing once more into the vale. Ayzeth didn’t breathe east though, for he knew the vile nature of those wicked creatures. They weren’t there to kill him, but merely to soften him up, to prod at his defenses and gage his strength. No, the real killer was on his way.

  The fog of the vale parted as another creature showed its face, a mass of sludge and flesh and teeth. Dark power radiated off of the beast as it approached Ayzeth, it’s massive claws digging into the sand with each step.

  “You think you’re the big dog here?” Ayzeth growled, readying himself for an assault. “Well let’s see who the real apex predator is!”

  The devil adept channeled his energy and charged, taking aim the creature’s hulking mass with his razor-sharp claws. Then something peculiar happened. Rather than fight back, the massive creature bowed its head and let out a submissive bellow.

  Ayzeth paused, stunned by the creature’s actions and it’s willingness to submit. As a fledgling, the Kaito brother had heard stories of mighty adepts wandering into the vale and returning as champions of the darkbeasts. They were fabled as torn men, consumed by darkness and power that nearly brought an end to all they surveyed. He thought they were mere legends, stories twisted by time... Now he realized those stories held quite a bit of truth.

  Allowing his aura to swirl around him like a cloak, Ayzeth placed a foot atop the darkbeast’s head, using it as leverage to climb atop its back. From there, he managed to get a better view of the surrounding vale. He could see hundreds, perhaps thousands of the lesser darkbeasts circling them, clawing at one another, cannibalizing their own kin as they desperately tried to reach him.

  Slowly, the devil adept raised his arms into the air, allowing his spirit energy to flow as he basked in the darkness surrounding him. This he knew was a sign... a sign that the dark gods had chosen him as a harbinger of darkness...

  And he would not let them down.

  ****

  Wrath of the thousand legged spiders crouched atop one of the darksteel towers of Shadowreach, watching as the city below him moved. Mere nights ago the shadow adept had faced off against the traitor, Varyon Risen in a cabin to the south. He’d had the man dead to rights... and yet, he’d let him survive. Despite his desire to utterly destroy the man, Wrath knew that his prey was resourceful. He knew that following him into Shadowreach had the potential to pay dividends, especially with Varyon so intent on digging up his past. It was a gamble, to be certain, but one he found to pay in dividends.

  While observing from the shadows, Wrath discovered the presence of Seline Bonaduce, the heir to the steel brotherhood and a woman thought dead at the hands of Ayzeth Kaito himself. Wrath watched from afar as the Kaito’s did battle with the Bonaduce clan, reveling in joy when Ayzeth was flung from the face of the realm.

  As a member of the spiders, Wrath probably should’ve leant the trio a hand, but the truth was he utterly hated the Kaito’s, perhaps even more so than Varyon. From the way they mutilated their bodies with forbidden techniques to the way they appointed themselves meaningless, self-proclaimed titles, just about everything they did had left a foul taste in his mouth. But no matter... they were gone, and from that he would profit.

  Shadows swirled at Wrath’s side a moment later as a hollow clone of his master, Jeryn Blackstar took form.

  “Is he dead?” the shadowy aspiration asked, his tone direct and to the point.

  “No, my lord,” Wrath responded. “When
I arrived in Shadowreach, I discovered the presence of Seline Bonaduce, alive and well. I began to formulate a plan of attack but the Kaito brothers launched a reckless charge in an apparent attempt to rectify their mistakes.”

  “And?”

  “And they were slain, my lord.”

  The shadow clone let out an exaggerated sigh, causing black energy to float into the ether. “Perhaps I should’ve just taken care of this myself...”

  “No,” Wrath interjected, anticipating the guild master’s response. “I have something else.”

  “Then speak it.”

  “I’ve observed the spirit magus that protects this city. It appears that he’s developed an illness... something cancerous that cannot be cured by meditation nor elixir. His time left on Eon is... quickly diminishing.”

  The Blackstar shadow clone placed a hand on its chin, contemplating the information. “This is quite a revelation... Tell me, has the city acquired any reputable resources since last time we scouted?”

  “It has,” Wrath replied. “The city has grown substantially, both in natural and spiritual resources. Razing this place would provide us with an ample boost in power.”

  The Blackstar clone pondered again, seemingly mulling over its decision. “Then tell me this, Wrath. Do you think you have the ability to see the Spirit Magus to his end?”

  Wrath nodded, trying to mask the grin that was beginning to form on his face.

  “Very well,” Blackstar said. “Then put your revenge on hold and see to it that the spirit magus meets his end.”

  “And after that?”

  The clone rippled with energy as he began to utter its final words. “Once the spirit magus falls, the city’s defenses will fall with it... Then the Bonaduce clan will have nowhere to run when we consume the city on darkness. And Wrath?”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Don’t ever fail me again.” The shadow clone moved with unmatched quickness, reaching through Earth’s flesh as it began to strangle him by his very soul. The shadow adept collapsed in pain, nearly dropping from his perch before the clone finally dissipated into ether, leaving him alone once more.

  Promptly, the shadow adept returned to his feet, straightening out his jet black tunic as his spirit returned to its normal ebb and flow. Then, with his pride tarnished and his assignment clear, he returned to his watch.

  The end of

  Bounty of Blades

  Roy Skyworth’s Character Sheet

  Name: Roy Skyworth

  Void Adept

  Rank: 3rd

  Specialization: Dark Vanguard

  Divine Power: Deep Freeze

  //////////

  Base Skills (the pillars of the adept):

  Body Reinforcement

  Aura Blast

  Spirit Evocation

  Meditation

  Void skills:

  Aura Bullet

  Void Boxing

  Specialized skills:

  Dark Spiral

  Void Grenade

  Aura Cannon

  //////////

  Spirit Growth:

  Aura growth at 60% to rank 4

  Inventory:

  1 Phoenix City Police Badge

  1 Void blade

  1 Arc Launcher

  1 Finely crafted Adept’s Attire

  //////////

  Sorrows of Starlight

  The Adept Archives: Volume 3

  By Darren Hultberg Jr

  Copyright 2019 Darren Hultberg Jr

  All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are completely fictitious.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or redistributed without proper permission from the author, Darren Hultberg Jr.

  Some artwork 2018 Eric Lofgren, used with permission. All rights reserved

  Prologue

  The guildhall of the Thousand-Legged Spiders, Eon

  Jeryn Blackstar, venerable lord of the thousand-legged spiders paced anxiously through his chamber. Moments ago he had channeled his presence many miles away into the body of one of his shadow clones. He’d used it to discuss the situation in Shadowreach with Wrath, his second in command, and to devise a plan to finally end those painfully resilient Bonaduce who lingered within the city’s walls. In fact, he’d actually felt rather confident about his disciple's plans...

  However, things had quickly changed.

  Moments after his connection with Wrath had faded, a much more volatile presence began to fill his chamber, suffocating him with him its unbearable weight until he could no longer feel his own body. Seconds passed as the pressure grew denser, threatening to snuff the guild leader right out of existence. Still, Blackstar refused to wither. squeezing his eyes shut as he steeled himself until the onslaught finally relented. Though when his eyes opened, he was no longer standing in his chambers...

  In front of Jeryn Blackstar was a large obsidian table, it’s tabletop gleaming with the light from a macabre chandelier that hung from above. Seated around the circular structure were four other shadowy figures, their identities masked by the unnatural darkness that seemed to cloud this pocket dimension. And yet, Blackstar knew exactly who they were. In attendance were four of the most malevolent beings on Eon... adepts with enough darkness to drown out the light of the worldstar itself. There, seated in front of Blackstar was a group of cultivators known only as the umbral council.

  Known by few and rivaled by even fewer, the umbral council was touted as a group of legends from the veil. Each member of the umbral council possessed the rank of spirit lord or higher, a power level reached by few on Eon. However, even more powerful was the influence that each of them held. All five members of the umbral council presided over one of the realm’s dark guilds, a group of mighty adepts who chose to embrace the veil rather than run from its horrors. They were responsible for such acts as the massacre at the temple of light, the destruction of the heavenly menagerie, the third great veil war, and most recently.... the bounty of blades.

  The umbral council was a force to be reckoned with... and by the gods, Blackstar felt right at home.

  Gathering himself, the leader of the spiders let his aura flow freely as he took his place at the table, standing rigid amongst the other council members who remained hidden behind a cloak of unnatural black. None of them spoke... instead they watched intently as the final space at the table sat empty, a void they knew wouldn’t last that way for long.

  After a few more seconds of absolute silence, a sudden overwhelming presence began to fill the room, sucking at the life force of the guild leaders like a vacuum as it made itself be known. Jeryn watched with anticipation as black sludge began to pour from the cracks in the floor, swirling as it rose above his head, defining itself until it finally took the shape of massive arachnid humanoid, it’s bladed appendages resting on its shoulders like a pair of massive pauldrons.

  As the creature took its final form, its true power began to echo through the small room. Its spiritual power was immeasurable, and its very presence was enough to make any lesser mortal go mad with terror. It’s clicking mandibles released a noise so terrible that it shattered windows over a thousand miles away. Standing there at the head of the council was an avatar of Arachnifax, dark god of the veil.

  Each and every member at the table bowed low as the avatar stepped forward, holding the position until the creature’s monstrous voice granted them release.

  “Rise my followers... and speak your truths.”

  “The shadow tigers have begun their siege on the beast lands,” one of the council members uttered, a bit too eager for the avatar’s taste.

  “The underworld dragon guild continues the bloodletting of Eon’s lesser guilds. Each day we grow closer to awakening our ancestral master,” another voice said, this one far more calm and collected than the first.

  The avatar nodded. “And what of the spider guild, that which has taken my namesake?”

  Blackstar took a deep breath, thinking carefully
before he replied. “As you know my lord, the bounty of blades was a massive blow to the burgeoning guild alliance. However, the Thousand-legged spiders have been forced to deal with some loose ends left as a result of the aftermath. My second in command is currently in the rogue city of Shadowreach, hunting down a pair of adepts that claim the name Bonaduce. Once he’s finished, we plan to move in and take control of the city for ourselves, to offer as another resource to the veil...”

  The other council members remained completely silent, unwilling to interject in Blackstar’s bold statements... however, the shiver in their spirits could be felt throughout. Not only had the man admitted failure by allowing the Bonaduce heirs to live, but he’d gone as far as to claim Shadowreach for his own. Bold... bold and undoubtedly foolish.

  Rather than lash out, the Arachnifax avatar merely stood his ground, pondering Jeryn’s words as he rubbed his mandibles together. “Tell me, mortal... how do you plan on removing the spirit magus from his throne atop the city of rogues? That fool has managed to singlehandedly repel our forces with that aura of his. He is not one to be underestimated.”

  “He has grown ill,” Blackstar replied, a bit of desperation in his voice. “His spirit has become withered and his body frail.”

  The Arachnifax avatar gave Jeryn a hard stare. “And yet, he still remains a spirit magus in control of an entire city of rogues... That’s quite the gamble, spider. Succeed and you could provide this council with a powerful asset. But fail and you stand the chance of compromising us all!”

  “I will not fail you, my lord!” Blackstar said, dropping his head low as unnatural fear began to swell in his gut.

  “No, you won’t,” Arachnifax uttered. “For it will be your own life that’s on the line.”

  Blackstar’s eyes widened. “Wha- what do you mean, my lord?”