The Mists of Erantia (Realm of Arkon Book 7)

by G. Akella

  I heard steps behind me. A moment later, Bonbon appeared to my right, hands folded over his chest. Without looking at me, the bald man spoke:

  "I've been meaning to ask you, commander. How do you prefer to be called?"

  "Dar... Krian," I shrugged. "It would feel weird to be called by my real name—it's been too long."

  He nodded.

  "We had it easier. Though Alyona had asked initially to call her Tauriel, it never really stuck."

  "Different strokes," I shrugged again. "Some names stick easier than others."

  "No doubt," Bonbon smiled. "Now, do you really think that whatever they find will complete Max's quest? I would really hate to leave them." The warrior motioned at the mountain. "Get this thing wrapped up, then find the temple in a day or two..."

  I gave him an askance glance.

  "I remember a certain someone singing a very different tune at the campfire the day before yesterday."

  "Necessities rarely align with one's wishes," he clarified wistfully. "I still think that you two mustn't stay together under any circumstances. But that doesn't mean I yearn to separate from anyone. This bunch, we've gotten real close over these past months..." he sighed. "Such a thing has long become impossible in our former world. Visor, computer, work... A vicious cycle that all too few were capable of breaking. We've lost everything, but it's not yet clear what we've gained in return. Other than each other, which means everything."

  "You're spot on about wishes. As for the quest, who knows? It may be just one step in a long chain. Some of them are like nesting dolls—the moment you open one, you discover a whole other one inside it. And just when you think you're on the last one, two more appear, and both bigger in size than the one that had started the chain in the first place."

  "This is... weird," Max sounded off, as if hearing my musings. "It's a stone."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning it's literally a stone," he clarified with a dash of sarcasm. "Kinda looks like a rugby ball. It was strewn amid others like it—right there on the surface, we didn't need to dig for it or anything. There's an inscription on it that would need to be read. Picking it up unlocked a new quest, but it doesn't look like we'll be able to make sense of it without Kirana, or at least without some booze to get our creative juices flowing. Wait there, we'll be back soon."

  I relayed the gist of the conversation to Bonbon. He was silent for a few moments, scratching the back of his head meditatively, and then said:

  "Maybe that's all it'll be, then? We'll find the temple and fix whatever needs fixin'. The goddess will turn up, hand out all the duly earned prizes, and the whole gang will bolt to Ellorian or some such, away from sin? Or to your princedom even? Max can't set foot in the Wild Wood, you know, having been exiled."

  "Do you even believe what you're saying?" I asked just as the "search party" began emerging from the corner.

  "Nope," he shook his head. "But one can still dream..."

  "Here, take a look," shifting back into elf form, Max held out the quest item.

  Yep, it was indeed a rock. On the heavy side, over twenty pounds, and smooth, its shape something between an egg and a football. But there was nothing extraordinary about it.

  "What do you want me to do with it?" I shrugged. "It's your quest—I won't see anything anyway."

  "It's the local equivalent of a kinder egg," Bonbon commented to my right. "Chew through it to get a prize. A charm, by the size of it, or maybe a ring."

  "Be my guest?" Max offered the rock to the bald man, eyebrow raised.

  "Go on, Bonbon, start chewing," Luffy cheered on his comrade. "You can never have too many rings, right? Nickels and dimes add up to a fortune in the end."

  "A sagely remark, to be sure," the bald man replied, but then immediately shook his head. "I'm going to have to reject your proposal, however. It's your quest, so it's you who should do the chewing."

  "Forget it, we'll figure it out later," stashing the rock away into inventory, Max gave a whistle. As his moose trotted over to him, he turned around and asked:

  "To the temple?"

  "It appears so," I nodded, then announced in the channel, "Kan, we're all here. Moving out as planned."

  We had decided to eschew reconnaissance. We had no rivals here, nor would we. Two squads of foxes on both flanks and in the vanguard were quite enough to discover any enemy in time. The mobs didn't even aggro on them due to huge the level difference, and there weren't any more traces of the Darkaanese.

  No more than five minutes after setting out, Vaessa caught up to me, her lizard mount falling in line with Gloom. The magus was silent and contemplative, but I knew my companion well enough by now to know that she needed to talk.

  "Your Mistress is alive, I'm sure of it," I said to her in a private channel.

  Vaessa startled, then asked without turning her head:

  "Reading minds now, are you?"

  "Sure am," I scoffed. "But really, there are but a few things in this world that can give you anxiety. Both Reece and Kan are alive and well, as am I. All that's left is your father and Celphata, and their fates are intertwined. If the goddess disappears, so will her companions, and I'm certain that he is among them now..."

  "All right," Vaessa stared absently at a massive triangular mountain directly ahead. "But what makes you think that my Mistress—"

  "It's not what I think, it's what the System decides. Or what the locals call Providence. Sometimes her messages contain clues."

  "Such as?"

  "The quest description mentioned that when we kill Vill's last companion, that will raise my status in your Mistress' eyes. Specifically Celphata, and not some abstract Goddess of Death," I clarified, just in case. "And, as I'm sure you understand, reputation gains aren't possible with an essence that has left this world. The quest description hasn't been amended, which means she's still here."

  We rode in silence for a few more minutes. Eventually, a light smile tugged at the corners of the mouth of the priestess of the Goddess of Death.

  "You do know how to comfort a woman, Dark One," she stated with relief in her voice. Her smile filled out as she turned her lizard around and made for the rearguard.

  I'd say she jumps to certain conclusions, Jaelitte interjected. Once I get out of here, we'll see how good you are at comforting women.

  Let's focus on getting you out first, I smiled out, and steered the razorback around the mountain blocking our path.

  The landscape didn't change for the next four hours. The party kept to a wide abandoned road that sloped slightly downhill, moving in the direction of the forest. Everything seemed at peace, and I was finally able to have a normal conversation with my sister and Max. Though all the important matters had already been discussed and settled, until now we hadn't had the chance to just shoot the breeze.

  At some point, the rock remnants protruding from the ground ended, and we entered onto a great plain carpeted with scorched grass. The road kept running northwest, which, if the old map was to be believed, would ultimately lead us to our destination. I did find it odd that all the large fauna seemed to have disappeared together with the rocks, which had become quite an eyesore by then. Here, there was only the road, the grass, small hills and the occasional stretch of bushes.

  When the sun in the west touched the peaks of distant mountains, its rays illuminated hundreds of crimson portals just ahead.

  "Demons," Max announced, gesturing at the units falling into battle formations. "How do they manage to build portals in such straight lines?"

  "The System lines them up. You can only have one portal window per one hundred quadrants," Teetotaler explained over the alarmed cries of his soldiers. "Your orders, commander?"

  "We keep moving," I said, then added into the channel. "Scouts, fall into the main ranks! Nobody goes off the road! When we get within one hundred yards, we all dismount!"

  The demons, in the meantime, were finishing their formations. Officers roared, monsters growled from the front lines, bones
crunched and iron clanged—within seconds the peaceful plain was transformed into the local chapter of the Netherworld. Watching them work, I felt a grudging admiration for the host's commanders. I couldn't begin to imagine the difficulty of forcing such a throng of different creatures into working together like a well-oiled machine. And yet, before even five minutes were up, the demon host was in perfect formation, fully blocking our path.

  The local AI didn't skimp this time. I hadn't a clue as to the calculations that went into sending this kind of horde to meet us, but I fully appreciated both the quantitative and qualitative aspects of this here welcoming committee, which resulted in a severe case of cognitive dissonance. Two huge infantry quadrants stood on either side of the road, each backed up by a cohort of heavy cavalry. And though using the term "infantry" to describe a herd of beasts would be a real stretch, the only visible distinction between the cavalry and Erantian knights were the burning hooves of their demonic horses. Nobody below level 300, with five raid bosses that I could see: four of them at level 450, standing just ahead of the main host, and one in the very back. General Daggon Ark, Commander of the Allied Legions of the Netherworld. Level 580 with two and a half billion HP!!!

  No less than twenty feet tall, the demon stood with his mighty arms crossed, calmly watching our approaching squad. Going by the commander's rank, this was only a fraction of the forces blocking the Great Forest's borders. But even if that wasn't the case, and the entire demon army had amassed here, on this abandoned Darkaanese road, why had RP-17 dispatched them? Not here specifically, but in the general sense. According to Max, Maloc's First Legion had survived the onslaught of Kirana's boar riders, but how, pray tell, were a bunch of weakling players supposed to get past this monumental force?! Was it RP-17's plan to compel the folks cast into this realm to integrate with the local races and factions? That was the only theory that made any sense to me. How else were they to raise their reputation with the bloody Netherworld? Follow in the footsteps of Max and I? Seriously?!"

  "Are you planning to walk right through them, Roman?" Alyona inquired quietly in the channel. I heard not even a note of fear—rather, anticipation of budding adventures. Yep, my sister sure was a strange one. Then again, it seemed that all the women here were of the same ilk—intrepid. And I wasn't feigning feminism. Simply, they were already this way when they got here...

  "Yes, Ginger, I am," I said, hiding my smile. "They need something from us, and we're going to find out what that is."

  "Max, Kan, keep two lengths behind me. Keep your weapons sheathed!" I commanded, easing Gloom's pace while steering him straight at the row of raid bosses just ahead.

  What next? What do I do if they just keep looking at me in silence? Do I stop and ask what they want? Yeah, right! It wasn't I who had decided to block their way! Within twenty yards of their ranks, the human in me was suddenly displaced by the demon, and the next moment the four towering beasts parted, making a path for me, and bowed their heads low. What is this?!

  Your soul... is that of an Elder Demon... I heard a voice rustling in my head.

  The general took a heavy step toward me, put out his hand, and added:

  "We must talk."

  Massive shoulders, three-foot-long curved horns, and a heavy gaze of eyes burning crimson red—all in all, his appearance quite reminded me of Saad Khor. The main difference was that the Throne Attendant always seemed to have a carefree air about him, whereas this one was clearly tense. Well, let's see what's gotten you so wound up. I threw up my gauntleted fist, signaling a stop for the rest of the squad, then hopped off my boar, and started toward the patiently waiting demon, leaving my officers to bark commands of their own.

  "We've been waiting for you," the voice rumbled as soon as I stopped directly in front of the general, and looked up at him quizzically.

  "Me specifically?"

  "Yes! This morning Khara Czarg declared that redemption would come before sunset. And I have full faith in my seer. Shar ataa rarely speak, but when they do, they are never wrong." The demon surveyed his army momentarily, then looked back at me. "Providence has stripped us of our memory and our Oath, casting us to these useless plains to slowly die. We long to leave... but we don't see a way back. We cannot recover our memory, but our Oath... Our Oath can be accepted by one of the Seven Lords, and I see their wings at your back!"

  Well, damn! He wants to swear an oath and split! Together with his entire army! That would lift the blockade off the Great Forest, but... But I wasn't a bloody Elder Demon! It was my shadow that he was seeing! Suddenly I felt a chill. What would happen if the general found out that—

  "Twelve assault legions!" Daggon Ark continued. "Sixty thousand fighters! Accept our oath, Dark One! Accept it, and show us the way home!" he bellowed, peering into my eyes. "I know that you can..."

  What now?! What was I supposed to say?! How do I explain that I wasn't who he thought I was...

  Suddenly my nostrils caught a whiff of violets, as a sardonic voice spoke:

  "I am here, Dark One. I have five minutes. You didn't forget, now did you?"

  The next moment my whole being erupted as if from a nuclear blast. The ground slipped from under my feet as pure, unadulterated, untamed Power coursed through my veins.

  The Elder Demon's mighty wings spread out behind me. I stepped forward, fixing the now-kneeling legate with an appraising gaze.

  "Yes... Yes, I can!" I roared, not recognizing my own voice. The next moment, my consciousness succumbed to darkness...

  Over the past several days, Max couldn't help feeling strangely restless, the source of which he couldn't quite place. Everything seemed to be going well. They had reunited with Roman, who was alive and well, even if a little... different. But then, so was he—and virtually everyone else who had come to this realm. They had all been through too much to have stayed the same. So, why the restlessness? Could it be that his friend had seemingly found them too quickly? Max hadn't hoped for their reunion at least until all this business with maps and temples was over with, and yet... These past days were a real hoot, in fact. Though Max had been in raids upwards of three hundred people, he had never felt this kind of power at his back. And then there was Roman's new crew: the sarcastic priestess of the Goddess of Death, the clownish mage, the meditative sorceress, the giant that somehow reminded Max of a famous Hollywood star... If he didn't know what they were, he could never have told them apart from real people, from his fellow humans who had gotten stuck in this game. Humans with their own individual thoughts, emotions, fears, dreams... As for Roman, he had indeed changed quite a bit. Sure, it was still the same Roman, his best friend, whom he trusted even more than himself... Only now there was a kind of weary fatefulness in his eyes, those burning blue eyes with golden pupils. But it wasn't quite that, either, nor the horns and tail that grew to enormous lengths when he shifted into his combat form. All that stuff was superficial, insignificant. It was something else—something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Both of them had been endowed with great gifts, but those gifts were laden with even greater responsibility. And so far, in his mind at least, neither he nor Roman had been asked to make any truly material sacrifices in return. Still, if there was one thing he knew about his friend, it was that he would walk this path to the end, no matter what. Even if staring down certain failure, or certain death. And Max would walk this path with him. This was just who they were, and despite what some might think, people at their core never really change.

  He had even felt a sense of joy and relief when the demons materialized on the plain, much preferring knowing the exact threat facing you to waiting restlessly for the unknown. Their reputation with the arrivals was on the level of "respect," so they shouldn't be in any danger, but the sight of the army couldn't help but impose a bit of stress. He couldn't make out the faces of the armored fighters in the front rows, but they weren't drawing their weapons or displaying any signs of aggression.

  No, people didn't change at their core. And when his friend s
et his jaw, narrowed his eyes, and steered his razorback right at the raid bosses, along with a surge of adrenaline Max felt a bit of déjà vu. Just like in the distant two thousand eighteen, when the two of them were returning home from the movies, and five thugs suddenly blocked their path. And just like that time, the four enormous demons had apparently decided not to mess with them. But when they not only parted, but bowed their heads low before his friend, that came as a bit of a shock to Max.

  "You're shitting me..." Teetotaler's whisper broke the stunned silence. "I suspected that your buddy isn't just your average Joe, but this..."

  "And I don't think we've seen the half of it," Donut chimed in.

  When the demon commander put out his open palm and stepped forward, and Roman, having dismounted, walked forward to meet him, Max was prepared for anything but the terrifying reality that followed.

  At some point Kozhevnikov's figure became transparent, and the next moment a winged black demon manifested out of thin air right where he'd just stood. Twenty five feet tall with mighty membranous wings, curved dagger-like claws sprouting from the wrists, arms bulging with muscles, and three-foot-long horns—when his friend suddenly transformed himself into this terrible monster, a veritable mountain fell upon Max's shoulders. The channel erupted with cries of horror and awe, and the knight-commander's mouth curled into a satisfied smile.