The Land of the Undying Lord

by J. T. Wright

  You have learned the Charm Spirit Flame – Level 1. +1 intelligence.

  The Fire Spirit burst off his palm into the air, almost to the cavern roof. Then it rushed back down to circle the flame in his hand twice. It glowed brighter for a moment. Trent felt a wave of approval from the creature before it darted into the flame!

  It then settled comfortably on his left palm. It was absorbing his Spell, his Mana. Trent almost dismissed the Spirit Flame, afraid that he was under some sort of attack. But this was a Safe Zone, and the Fire Spirit was harmless, friendly even. Trent could feel the Spirit giving off waves of contentment as it basked in the flame. It was feeding, but it wasn’t harming him. The trickle of Mana it absorbed was hardly noticeable, and Trent decided it had earned its reward. The Spirit had provided him with two Charms and two Attribute Points!

  After a few minutes, the Spirit flew out, weaving drunkenly, a little bigger and a little brighter than it had been originally. It buzzed around Trent’s head twice and then settled onto the top of his cowl. Trent couldn’t see it, but he felt its presence. He was nearly certain it was asleep, or in whatever state passed for sleep among Fire Spirits.

  He carefully sat down, afraid to disturb his tiny benefactor. The Spirit Flame Charm still burned merrily on his palm. The cost of maintaining it was less than feeding the Spirit had been. He studied it with Flame Manipulation.

  This Charm was much more versatile than Spark. He could form it into many different shapes and configurations, the most exciting of which was a sword. He summoned a second flame and formed replicas of Sorrow and Strife. He combined the two and had a perfect duplicate of his sword. These weapons wouldn’t do as much damage as his physical blades but against the Undead? That remained to be seen! It was no conjured wave of destroying fire, but it was better than he had before. And if he channeled this Charm into his actual blades… This might be the edge they needed.

  He still needed Dual Wield, but Sorrow and Strife had just become much stronger. If only his sword had the same ability, because he still needed his sword. His knives wouldn’t have been very effective against that Infernal Hunting Cat.

  He released the flames, and looking over his shoulder, he saw that Tersa and Orion were sleeping peacefully. Trent should be doing the same. Only, he didn’t feel the need. Something about this cave energized him. It was like a cocktail of Mana, Stamina, and Health potions was being poured into his body. It was a heady feeling. Despite several days of running and fighting, he felt the urge to get up and move.

  He started to jump to his feet and then remembered his slumbering passenger. He got up carefully and then felt foolish. The Spirit was hardly a person, a little jostling wouldn’t bother it! Still, he stepped softly as he set out to explore his surroundings.

  He activated Far Vision, doubling the distance he could see normally, but he still couldn’t see the end of the cavern. He didn’t know exactly how far he could see, but it had to mean the cavern stretched for miles.

  Trent picked herbs as he walked. He might level his Herbalism Skill, and the herbs might come in handy. He placed them all in Storage as he’d leveled Storage twice recently. Usually, any loot they earned had to be collected on the run. Trent had tolerated the Mana drain and simply swept it all into Storage for examination later. Between his larger Mana pool (thanks to Intelligence gains) and the lesser cost to use it (due to leveling the Ability up), Storage was almost at the point where he could use it casually.

  The farther he went into the cavern, the more attention Trent drew to himself from a veritable swarm of Spirits that hovered and buzzed around him. Without Orion to Identify them, Trent could only guess what types were represented in the chaotic pack. He imagined there were dozens of representatives of every kind of Element.

  They didn’t impede him or hurt him in any way. They seemed to enjoy just being near him, and he was glad of the company. He couldn’t communicate with them the way he could with the Fire Spirit, but he sensed an intelligence there. He was curious about what they might teach him if he could talk to them, but he felt that was a pointless line of thought.

  The Safe Zone would only last for twelve hours. Trent gave himself three hours to explore the cavern. An hour had already passed, and Tersa and Orion would be asleep for at least six more. Well, Tersa would. She would probably sleep the full twelve and more if they let her. Trent only hoped Orion would sleep half as long. He wanted to train with the serious-minded Al’rashian for a few hours, and if Orion woke up and found him missing, Trent was bound to get an earful when he got back.

  That didn’t stop him from wandering, though. Trent enjoyed the company of his two friends, but somewhere along the way, he discovered he also enjoyed solitude. Because he found conversation difficult, he was usually limited to listening to Tersa’s rants and had little to contribute. Feeling guilty about leaving them behind, he reasoned that since privacy was also hard to come by in the Land of the Undying Lord, he must take advantage of any chance he got. Besides, this was a hidden location, not just a Safe Zone. There had to be more to discover than Elemental Spirits. He couldn’t explain that to Tersa and Orion yet. They would ask all kinds of questions that he couldn’t answer.

  By the second hour into his aimless roaming of the cavern, his guilt was completely gone. He’d known there was more to this place! He had stumbled upon an innocent-looking pond, a perfectly calm circle of water surrounded by wildflowers. The water was undisturbed and looked both fresh and refreshing. It would probably taste cool and sweet, completely unlike the warm stale fluid provided by his water skin.

  In the center of the pond was an island. Small and neat, and again, perfectly normal looking. On the island, three stone blocks sat. Only on closer examination did he realize they weren’t blocks. They weren’t chests! Trent circled the pond on foot suspiciously, observing the boxes with a wary eye. He didn’t see clasps or hinges, only a groove, indicating that the top of the stone box was removable. It was unlike any reward chest Trent had ever seen, which was only one, but still.

  As calm as it looked, Trent didn’t trust the pond, not one bit. The last body of water he’d seen like this was the Burning Lake. It had been bigger, much bigger, but this pond had a very similar look and feel about it. The Burning Lake had held pain, unbearable, unending pain. Only it had ended, and when it did, Trent had found weapons and strength. This pond, this pool, was smaller, and although he had told himself that he didn’t trust it, he now convinced himself that he could face whatever lay ahead. He stepped into the water without thinking. Thinking was the enemy of action! This was not a good way to approach life, but Trent didn’t have the time to evaluate his state of mind.

  His foot entered the water, and he shrieked, but not in pain! The water was deeper than it looked, and he had sunk up to his waist immediately. He blushed and looked around. Thousands of Spirits were buzzing around him. He was sure half of them were laughing at him, but no one else was close by to see or hear what had happened.

  With his jaws clamped shut and fists held tightly at his sides, he took a step forward. No pain, just cool water swirling around his lower body, He took another step. He was being set up; he was sure of it! The pond was waiting for him to lower his guard, but he was no fool, no matter what Tersa said!

  He reached the small island without incident. He almost leaped out of the water onto the promised safety of dry land, but something stopped him. He’d gotten the Detect Trap Skill from leveling Survivalist, but this was the first time it tingled. His Skill tugged at his mind, begging him to look closer. It hinted at channeling Mana… to his eyes?

  Not understanding why, Trent pulled Mana from the center of his being and fed it into his eyes. The appearance of the island in front of him altered. Now it was covered in sinuous black runes. Every inch of the island bore markings that screamed of ending, of death. If he had stepped onto those runes…

  This was a magic trap. Only a combination of Detect Trap, Mana Manipulation, and Mana Control allowed him to see it. Thi
s was the first time Trent had ever used his Mana this way, which begged the question, what Skill had allowed him to see the Fleshlings Circles and Safe Zones that no one else could see?

  That question would have to wait. Three boxes, three companions. Trent was sure they needed what was in those stone containers. They’d done well so far, but Trials only got more difficult, never easier. Three trapped boxes in a hidden location must hold something valuable.

  This was standard Adventurer thinking. Trent couldn’t know that, but Kirstin would be proud of him for developing this sense of practical greed. A standard Adventurer would see those boxes and imagined riches within. In Trent’s case, valuable meant weapons or potions instead of gold and jewels, but the intent was the same. It wasn’t his fault that he lusted after lifesaving tools instead of treasures. Trent only picked up the coins dropped by Trial beasts because he was following directions. He had no idea that money could be exchanged for goods.

  In any case, he desperately wanted to know what the stone boxes held. If he went back and found Orion, maybe the Mage would know how to disarm the trap. He started to wade back to land but stopped when he noticed a cloud of Black Elemental Spirits hovering almost on top of the runes.

  His mind knew the runes screamed death, but the black Spirits felt different from the Undead. Instead of the cold, hateful, unnatural energy of the Fleshlings, Zombies, and Walking Skeletons, these Spirits seemed friendly. Still cold, but a natural cold. Less the antithesis of life, more like the other side of the same coin.

  Death Elementals? Similar to the Undead, but natural? Would purifying the runes have any effect? There couldn’t be any harm in trying, right?

  He started to cast Spirit Flame, when a flash of blue light buzzed in front of his face. He’d become so used to the ever-present Spirits that he’d forgotten about them. They crowded thickly around him like a mist, not completely obstructing his vision. His flame wouldn’t hurt a Fire Spirit, but what about the others? He wanted to dispel the magic trap, but not if it would hurt Water Spirits or Earth Spirits. He didn’t even want to harm the Death Spirits!

  Trent cleared his throat and spoke, somewhat self-consciously, “If you understand me, could you all move back?”

  Apparently, they could understand, and a space opened around him. Even the Death Spirits floated up into the air, away from the island. He sighed in relief. “Is that everyone?” It felt like a stupid question, but he had to ask it, and since the Spirits lacked voices, he received no reply. He wondered if they would attack him if he accidentally harmed some unseen presence on the island? It was a chance he would have to take. He didn’t even know if the Spirit Flame would work on the runes.

  He cast the Flame and sent it to the nearest rune. The runes twisted and writhed when the Purifying Flame touched them. Suddenly, he realized that this action might not disarm the trap. There was another possibility. It could set the trap off!

  Had this idea come to him because he had the Disarm Trap Skill? If it had, it was still a Level 1 Skill in the hands of a person with less than a months’ worth of life to his name, the name which meant useless. His Skills were hardly infallible.

  He shut his eyes and held his breath. Inside his wet boots, his toes clenched. He would have prayed if he knew how or who to pray to. It would probably be pointless anyway. The gods couldn’t touch the Trials; that was why Tersa felt it was okay to blaspheme here.

  He stayed like that, perfectly still, until the smell of scorched grass and smoke reached his nose. He opened his eyes.

  The rune was gone! He released his Charm. It had worked! He’d burned the rune away, and a small section of grass as well. An unintentional but acceptable side effect. The corners of his mouth inched up happily.

  The Death Spirits started to descend when he released his Charm. He quickly spoke up, “I'm not done yet.” They returned to hovering. They weren’t as playful as their other Elemental brothers and sisters. There was a disapproving feel to the way the Death Spirits floated. Trent supposed it couldn’t be helped. You couldn’t make friends with everyone.

  One rune down and hundreds to go. He recast Spirit Flame and set it to the next rune. This time he used Fire Manipulation to spread the flame out in a sheet, covering multiple runes at once. That also worked! Ten minutes later he’d cleared the island of trap runes, and plant life. All that was left was charred earth and three stone boxes.

  Trent stood in the middle of the devastation and shifted his feet guiltily. He felt it was wrong to destroy things in the middle of a Safe Zone. He probably should have checked with Orion to see if the Mage had another method before wantonly burning everything in his path.

  There was nothing he could do about it now. That was a fact. There was nothing he could do, but he wasn’t the only one present. The cloud of Death Spirits was descending and settling on the burned island. Wherever they landed, ash and scorched plants were absorbed. Soon, nothing but bare clean earth remained.

  Their job finished, the black dots floated up, slightly fatter for their meal. In their place, a swarm of white, yellow, and green lights floated down. Swirling about the island, life returned, thicker, greener, and more varied than ever before. Grass grew and flowers blossomed. Herbs bursting with vitality filled the air with a pleasant, calming scent.

  After they were done, Spirits comprising a rainbow of colors, including black, fluttered in the air in front of Trent’s face. He felt appreciation and gratitude flowing from them. He understood now that the Death Spirits had been guarding the runes, not feeding off them. They had detested the harmful energy radiating from the runes as much as he had.

  Trent lowered his head, still feeling guilty. He was glad for the positive outcome. He was only sorry that his motivation had been that of necessity and greed, not from any sense of righteousness. He could hardly accept their thanks.

  Ducking away from the Spirits, Trent was finally able to get to the three stone boxes. They weren’t overly large, no more than two feet deep by two feet wide, and maybe three feet long. There was no tingling sense alerting him that they were trapped, so he ignored the voice in his head telling him not to rely on his undeveloped Skills. He reached out to touch the smooth black stone on the lid of the box closest to him.

  The fire that had cleared the area of harmful traps had left the stone untouched. He exhaled slowly when his touch wasn’t met with an explosion of harmful magic. He then ran his hands across the smooth top. It was cool to the touch, but his relief turned to puzzlement when he tried to pry the box open. He touched the seam of the container’s lid; it was too tight for him to get a good hold. Lifting from the edges was no better. The stone lids were heavy, much too heavy for their size. Trent considered trying to melt the lid, but magic that was able to destroy the stone would most likely destroy the contents as well, and his magic was weak.

  Tersa might be able to break the stone with her mace, or, if the other two were here, the three of them together could lift the lid. He ran a finger along the front seam. The tip of his sword would... no, the blade was enchanted to deal with Infernal creatures, but that didn’t make it invulnerable to damage. His knives? He was even more reluctant to try that.

  Frustrated, Trent set his feet and leaned forward, pushing with all his might, against the edge of the lid. He didn’t really expect it to work. He was so sure that it was a pointless effort that when the lid slid off smoothly and easily, he forgot himself and fell forward, but caught himself before falling to the ground. Only the smooth metal of his mask kept him from cracking his teeth on the rim of the open box.

  Composing himself, he coughed and looked around to see if he’d been observed. This was exactly the kind of situation that would turn Tersa, who was normally oblivious, into a sharp observer with eagle-like sight. No guffaw sounded, and he didn’t see anyone who might have snuck close while he was concentrating on his task. If the swirling cloud of Spirit Lights danced a little faster and twinkled a little brighter, they were probably impressed by his ingenuity. After all
, Elemental Spirits didn’t laugh at people.

  With another cough, he rubbed the back of his neck. Trent dismissed his concerns and peered into the stone container where a crystal ball the size of an apple and a twig rested. All that effort for a crystal ball and a twig! Trent reached in and picked up the clear ball of glassy crystal. A Spirit Orb, that was what Appraisal told him the object was. What it was used for, or how you used it, was anyone’s guess. He put it in his Storage and picked up the twig.

  As the stick left the box, Trent’s eyes widened. It grew! Outside of the stone container, the twig became a staff, six feet long and made of two pieces of white polished wood, twined together. At the center of the staff, was an open space about the same size as the Spirit Orb. Paired Items? Appraisal was similarly useless on the staff; its Level wasn’t high enough to reveal the item’s secrets.

  Trent ran his hands along the staff. It was very similar in size and weight to the one Orion was currently carrying. It lacked the metal caps on either end but still felt like a weapon as much as it did a caster’s tool. It was perfectly suited to Orion’s blend of physical and magical attacks.

  Trent ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. There boxes and three Adventurers. If the Orb and staff were for Orion, would the other two boxes hold equipment meant for Tersa and himself?

  Trent stored the staff and quickly moved to open the next box. Now that he knew the trick, the box yielded its contents with no complaint. Trent’s eyes opened wide, as he viewed its treasures.

  A suit of chainmail made of glittering silver metal was the first item he picked up. It was heavy and felt solid in his hands. Tersa and Trent were still wearing the roughly constructed hide armor that Trent had fashioned himself. This chainmail, with an armor rating of 40, was far superior. As he moved it to Storage, Trent imagined the look that would appear on Tersa’s face if it was meant for her.