The Land of the Undying Lord

by J. T. Wright

  Cullen paused, puffing on his pipe briefly. Then he continued, not saying a word, while his actions clearly said, “So what if I'm not?”

  “What Level are you exactly?” He heaved another deep breath in and out. Alistern was aware that there were secrets regarding Levels and Classes, that those in power in the kingdom, of which Al’drossford was a small part, wanted suppressed.

  It was obvious when you stopped to think about it. Alistern’s own father and mother, and the Duke and Duchess Al’dross, would never say what their Levels were, but the power that hung about them was clear. Cullen was one of the Duke’s companions as well; they had all journeyed together in their youth. There had to be more to the man.

  Alistern didn’t know how he had missed it, but his eyes were open now. No Level 67, no matter what his Class, could do battle with 60 or more opponents alone. Opponents that Alistern, with his 25 Levels in Forward Scout and 24 in Assassin, had trouble handling.

  “Didn’t that hag mother of yours ever tell you that it’s impolite to ask about other people’s Levels?” Cullen held his pipe in his teeth as he spoke.

  “My mother, my sainted, gracious mother, told me never to let conniving, blowhards pull the wool over my eyes!” Alistern took a step forward but kept his fingers loose. He was not threatening anyone!

  “Sainted and gracious,” Cullen snorted, “not beautiful though, even her own kids won’t go so far as to tell that lie about the prune faced old…”

  “Quit ducking the question, you cantankerous, dog-faced son of a bitch! Just tell me!” Alistern took another half-step forward. He was still out of Cullen’s striking range. Make the man angry, and he'll spill everything he knows, Alistern’s mother had taught him that. But she also said to do it while leaving yourself plenty of room to run and to expect to be caught when you did run.

  “Calm down, Lieutenant,” Cullen said seriously. “If you want answers to questions like that, well, you should ask the in Al’drossford, behind the door to the Duke’s study. You’ll be the first of your siblings to ask that question, only one step behind Aaron too.”

  Cullen was impressed though he didn’t show it. Aaron was the Duke’s oldest son and heir, privy to a lot of information Alistern didn’t have. Even Aaron had only caught on last year to what Alistern was starting to see. The Scout Lieutenant was sharp, Cullen had always said so.

  Alistern’s head jerked back at the Sergeant’s words. His shoulders slumped, and he reached up to scratch at his jaw. His fingers found stubble; had he forgotten to cast the Shave Charm lately? How hard had Cullen been pushing him that he would forget something so basic?

  Alistern made a choking noise deep in his throat. He let the Sergeant put him off, but there was a promise in Cullen’s words as well. The Sergeant kept his promises; that was another thing Alistern’s mother had taught him. She sneered when she said it, though, like it wasn’t a good thing.

  “Fine, but I want those answers, Uncle Cullen,” Alistern said finally, his words a peace offering. “Can you at least tell me, approximately, how high I can expect the Trial beasts’ Levels to get?”

  The corners of Cullen’s mouth slowly curled up as he took his pipe in hand. Levels of beasts in Instant Trials were generally the average of the party they faced. It wasn’t a firm rule. One exception was Survival Trials like this one. These types of Trials always started with lower leveled beasts to give challengers a chance, but by the end, they could be higher than the average.

  “You can expect to see beasts over Level 67. How much higher? Who knows?” Cullen went back to puffing as he turned away from the Lieutenant. “Get to Harvesting, Stern. Time’s a-wasting.”

  “Do you really not have the Harvesting Skill!?” Alistern yelled at his back. His eyes went from Cullen to the sixty-odd bodies scattered about.

  “We can’t all be good at everything, Lieutenant,” Cullen called back. He didn’t mind lying, if it would help build a young man’s character. Besides a lie of omission or a lie that sounded like a promise were hardly lies at all.

  **********

  Orion was awake and sitting cross-legged next to a snoring Tersa as Trent walked up. The man appeared at ease, but Trent noticed a hard glint in his silver eyes that tracked his every movement. Orion rolled his shoulders and clenched his fingers as Trent sat down in front of him. Trent was content with silent disapproval, so it fell to the older man to speak first.

  “So, you woke up early and went exploring?” he asked bluntly through pressed lips. His jaw was tight, and his chin lifted slightly as he regarded Trent.

  Trent swallowed tensely. “I found some interesting things. We should wait for Tersa to…”

  Orion stretched out a hand and clamped it on Tersa’s face, covering her nose and mouth. Tersa, robbed of oxygen, came awake spluttering and jerking. Orion drew back his hand as she sat up with a start, her arms flailing and hands swatting. Tersa shouted unintelligibly, and her eyelids worked frantically.

  It didn’t take her long to figure out what had happened. Her eyes flashed, and she shouted furiously, “Damn it! If you want me to wake up, you could just tap my shoulder or nudge my foot! Attempted murder is not how humans like to start the day!”

  “I’ve nudged your foot in the past. It doesn’t work.” Orion’s eyes wrinkled just a bit at the corners. “And I never attempt murder, you should know that. If you’d like, you can go back to sleep. Trent and I will split the loot between the two of us.” He didn’t let Tersa’s angry outburst get him riled.

  Tersa’s face darkened as she puzzled over Orion’s “murder” comment but brightened immediately at the word loot. Watching Trent pull out item after item and set them in three piles, she quickly forgave the man.

  “I found three boxes. All of this was inside. I think.” He cleared his throat. Orion and Tersa didn’t look like they were listening to him. Both were fixated on the items. “I think there was a box for each of us.”

  Tersa grabbed the mace that was plainly for her. She lifted it with ease, not seeming to notice the weight of the thing. Her head jerked from side to side as she looked for something to hit. When her gaze rested on Trent just a bit too long, he distracted her by pointing out the Shocking Touch Spell Stone and armor. Fortunately, the mace fell to the side, forgotten, as she reached trembling fingers towards the Spell Stone.

  “Ah, we should discuss who gets what first. There are other things…”

  Tersa snatched up the Stone and clutched it to her chest before Trent could finish speaking. He’d only wanted to assure her that if she couldn’t learn the Spell, there were other things she could take, but from the white look on her face, she clearly thought he was going to hit her with the mace and take the stone for himself.

  Trent’s jaw dropped open as the stone in Tersa hands crumbled away into dust. She had learned the Shocking Touch Spell. “Congratulations,” he sputtered.

  If anything, Tersa’s face went even whiter. The only color left was on the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. Then she jumped to her feet with arms raised in victory. Blood rushed back to her face as she screamed in exultation. A tier 1 Spell! A Lightning Element tier 1 Spell! And she’d learned it!

  Trent rocked backward, wincing in reaction to Tersa’s warbling war cry. His open mouth slowly shifted into a lopsided smile. “I think she’s happy,” he said to Orion.

  Orion didn’t hear him. He didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings at all. His eyes were glued to the staff and Orb. His back was rigid, and his hands clutched his knees tightly.

  “What’s wrong?” Trent vaguely heard Tersa muttering, but, appalled by Orion’s appearance, he failed to recognize until it was too late that she was practicing her new Spell.

  Her hand came slapping down on his shoulder. Trent registered the word, “Shock!” as it left Tersa’s lips. A trigger word! Energy coursed through Trent’s body as his muscles locked up. He teetered back in an uncontrollable spasm, legs kicking weakly. Why hadn’t he seen this coming?

  The Sp
ell’s effect only lasted seconds. Trent sat back up with a groan. Tersa was rubbing her hands together manically and standing too close to Orion, who still only had eyes for the Spirit Orb, for Trent’s comfort.

  “Tersa!” he barked sharply. He found himself doing his best to impersonate Sergeant Cullen. “If you want to play stupid games, there’s a whole mess of bleeding Undead just outside who will be happy to accommodate you!”

  His best wasn’t very good, but it broke Tersa out of her evil trance. Unfortunately, it did so in the worst possible way. Her expression went from manic to gleeful, and she swept up her new mace, stepping towards the cavern’s entrance. Trent threw himself forward, hitting the back of her knees and bringing her to the ground with a thump.

  “Later! They aren’t going anywhere, and you can’t go out there alone!” He tussled with her on the ground, trying to hold her down. Why was she so strong? Tersa wiggled around, easily breaking his hold. They bumped into Orion, and he looked at the two with blurry eyes. Trent felt dread welling up from a knot in his stomach. Tersa was muttering her Spell again!

  “Bind!” Orion’s knuckles rapped Tersa’s forehead as he cast his own Spell. Tersa froze, and Trent took the opportunity to scramble backward, dragging Tersa’s mace with him. Where was her other weapon? There! Both blunt instruments were quickly put into Storage.

  Orion’s Bind Spell was more practiced than Tersa’s Shocking Touch, and it held the insane redhead in place much longer. When it finally wore off, Tersa was wearing a pleasant smile as she tried to stand up. Trent wasn’t fooled. That was her bashing smile. Orion recognized it as well.

  “Bind!” His knuckles knocked her forehead again, and Tersa collapsed. “I can do this for quite a while, Tersa Cromwen of Al’drossford. And I will until you calm down.”

  “Trent,” Orion kept one eye on Tersa and held his hand hovering over her head as he addressed the gasping Trent, “you should keep this Staff and Orb.”

  “You don’t want them? You can take the Skill Stone and Armor then.” Trent rubbed his shoulder where Tersa had shocked him. He had been sure the Staff and Orb were for Orion. He was a little sorry to see the Sword Technique go to someone else, but he still had plenty of other options.

  “I'll take whatever you don’t want!” Tersa batted Orion’s hand away and sat straight up. There was greed for more loot registering on her face. She had already forgotten about rushing to challenge the world with her new Spell.

  Orion ignored her. His eyes squinted as his gaze drilled into Trent. The boy was a clouded sky to him. He couldn’t say what it held or what it would bring.

  Tersa reached for the Orb. Orion gently caught her wrist, pushing her hand into her lap. For once, Tersa didn’t resist. Her head tilted, and she pursed her lips as she wondered what was going on.

  “You really would, wouldn’t you? You would trade your own … for something you can’t use…” Orion was flabbergasted at this overwhelming show of generosity from Trent.

  Orion rubbed his face. “You should keep it all, Trent. I have no use for it. All of it, except for what should go to the un… irrepressible Tersa,” he added, seeing that Tersa was about to interrupt. She settled back, her fear of losing out on her own share alleviated.

  However, Trent was anything but pleased. His lips tightened unhappily, and he sounded almost pleading. “That’s not right, Orion! The Trial meant these items for all of us. You need to take something!”

  “By rights, all of this is yours, including the Spell and mace.” Tersa’s ears perked up at this, and she bit her cheek. Orion wasn’t wrong, though, so she kept quiet. Orion continued, “You found and secured these things; I doubt they were just lying around waiting to be picked up. Only you have any claim to them. The Orb is priceless. If you sell it to one of the clans, they will honor you, even if you demand all they own.”

  Trent’s brow furrowed. “If your people will benefit from it, then you should take it to them.” He pushed the Orb closer to Orion.

  Orion flinched back at the same time as his hand reached out. He held his hand in the air above the Orb but did not touch the item itself. “I cannot afford to buy it from you and…”

  “And nothing, the Orb is yours! You can consider it a gift if that makes you happy. It isn’t meant for me!” Trent crossed his arms in a gesture of finality. Orion was being as unreasonable as he often accused Tersa of being.

  Orion’s face was blank. “You really would give this to me? Never, not even amongst my own family…”

  “I don’t understand, what’s so important about a shiny little ball?” Tersa stamped the ground irritably. She wanted her mace back and the chance to test it out. All this nonsense was a stupid waste of time.

  “You would have to know the history of my people to truly understand,” Orion said softly. “About the fall of our kingdom, and what we lost when our home was taken from us. It is a long story. This Orb is a piece of our heritage, a key to our power. How this Trial can produce it…”

  Trent picked up the Orb and held it out to Orion. “Nothing you’ve said has convinced me you shouldn’t have this.”

  Orion reached out and took the Orb in both hands, cradling it uncertainly. A week ago, he would have said that if this unlikely situation were to occur, there was no one in the Infinite World who could convince him to touch a Spirit Orb. Had he found it himself instead of Trent, he doubted he could have brought himself to lay a finger on it or even breathe the air next to the relic.

  What happened next took them all by surprise, Orion most of all. The Orb flashed blindingly bright, and a beam of energy pulsed out from it. Orion’s fingers tightened around it, and a pained look crossed his face. Trent reached for the staff, planning to knock the Orb away from his friend when Orion’s expression changed.

  If Tersa had shown joy at learning Shocking Touch, what appeared on Orion’s face was unashamed ecstasy. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he bowed his head. The light in the Orb faded to a dull glow. Tersa and Trent stood still, hardly daring to breathe and waiting for what he would do next.

  Orion took the staff that Trent was still holding. He placed the Orb in the space that seemed made for it. There was an audible click as the ball was set in place. The two rods that combined to make the staff swelled and grew around the crystal until the Orb was almost concealed. Tucked securely between its polished white branches, the Orb gleamed, its light the only feature that distinguished it from the wood of the staff.

  “My brother Albion and I never got along. Rather I should say Albion never liked me, never looked up to me as his older brother.” Orion’s words were as bewildering as anything that had just happened, but Trent and Tersa listened closely. Orion laid the staff in his lap; he gripped it tightly as he continued his story.

  “It may have been something I did that caused the rift between us. I do not recall doing anything to inspire his disdain for me, but we are often blind to our own faults. He and I were both adopted. I remember being excited the day mother brought him into our family. I was proud to have a little brother to play with and guide. This is the way of the Al’rashia, the bond between brothers is sacred.

  “Albion never looked at me with pride or love. He was an envious boy, a suspicious youth, and a grasping man, though I only saw this after my exile, after his death. Looking back, I can recall three incidents where my life was in danger, and he took no action. His reasons always seemed appropriate at the time. When I was nearly swept away crossing a river, well, he wasn’t a strong swimmer. I was knocked to the ground in battle; he was too far from me to help.

  “Perhaps I gave him cause to be jealous.” He swatted playfully at Tersa’s shoulder. “You remind me of him, Tersa, though you are nothing alike. He also made rash decisions. But where you do so out of eagerness, he was sly and anxious for power. You choose to specialize your Class out of a desire to be stronger, to help others, without counting the cost. He chose a reckless path, deliberately, for personal gain, knowing it would hurt the clan.

&nb
sp; “I Awakened my second Advanced Class not long after my eighteenth birthday. I became a Spirit Summoner, the first any Al’rashian clan had seen since the fall of Windshire Stronghold. This changed things. Before this, I was son and heir to our mother, who was…is…the Elder of the Embra Clan. I was set to become the leader after her.

  “I was never comfortable with this as I could never gain the Leadership Skill. When I Awakened my Class, it was a relief to pass the title of heir to Albion. Maybe if I had abdicated before becoming a Spirit Summoner, Albion would have been content. As it was, my Class overshadowed his rise.”

  Orion fell quiet. Tersa twitched impatiently as the man gathered his thoughts. Trent pulled her chainmail shirt closer to himself, silently telling her what would happen if she interrupted.

  “I’m not explaining well.” Orion drummed his fingers against his staff. “A year after Albion became heir, I discovered several Clan Treasures missing, pieces of our heritage almost as important as this Orb. I confronted him about it, and he assured me they were being put to use, not missing. I accepted his explanation, though he had no authority to even touch them.

  “Three days later, I was ambushed while hunting. My brother and a dozen Orcs… Orcs!” Orion’s face twisted in fury and his knuckles cracked, as his hands clenched into fists, “It was an Orc Necromancer who… they are an enemy to all, a Cursed Race, but to an Al’rashian… an Al’rashian warrior will crawl across broken glass and burning coals to bite the throat of an orc. My brother was working with them! He bragged to me about how he had sold clan resources and treasures to an Orc band. I never found out what he got in return.

  “I killed the orcs with a blade, much like the one you carry now, Trent. I was the whirlwind, the reaper, the wave that crushed the mountain, and they were nothing. At the end, I stood untouched with Albion kneeling before me. He was defiant even in defeat, swearing blood debt like he was the wronged party. He cursed me even as I took his head.”

  Orion paused, and Tersa couldn’t take it anymore. “How? We’ve seen your Level. Twelve Orc warriors and… and… your brother must have had some skill.”