The Mists of Erantia (Realm of Arkon Book 7)

by G. Akella

  "Stop!" The commander of the group pursuing us ran up ahead, followed by all the rest.

  I still had no concept of the strange, warped space I now inhabited, but I grabbed Donut for the second time in the last ten minutes and followed the mysterious newcomer's gesture to squeeze into yet another gap between another pair of houses.

  "They cannot see you," the stranger reassured me, his voice at once sad and ironic.

  Indeed, they couldn't see us. The patrol swept by a few seconds later without even looking our way.

  The man removed his top hat, spread his hands gracefully, and introduced himself. "Mordred."

  He looked to be forty, or perhaps younger, with a thin face, humped nose, and unusually large eyes. The man was dressed in a pristine black suit with a white lace shirt and top hat, and carried a cane. He could have easily been mistaken for a late-1800s English aristocrat. Except that the bright orange and red polka-dot bow tie and the tattered handkerchief sticking out of his suit pocket didn't quite fit. His level was hidden, but he was green. Friendly.

  "Roman, that's—that's the Lord of Madness!" Donut whispered into the channel. Something unsettling permeated his voice.

  "You're right, young man, but among friends, I go by Mordred." The man tilted his head as if listening to the cries coming from the city streets, and a muted smile raised the corners of his lips.

  "Gentlemen, while the warriors of the Blessed Myrt chase your dopplegangers until they figure out what truly happened, we should leave this place. Not that I am confident they can figure anything out, but I do believe none of us wish to waste precious time. You are going to the Tomb of Arkam, yes? Then off we go!"

  With a slight movement of his cane, Mordred made the jagged opening of a portal appear on the wall. Like a mad artist splashing mixed colors from his painter's palette, with no care for—what am I going on about? Donut was the one taken by his madness, not me! Without any subsequent hesitation, for the third time today I grabbed my rogue friend, and together we stepped into the window in space masked by all the colors of the rainbow.

  Chapter 11

  Entrance to the Tomb of the Forgotten God. Zone level 200.

  A wide, empty corridor with plain light brown walls, eight white lanterns hanging from the high ceiling, and a huge double-leaf gate. Yes, I had been here before. Back then, Bolo had stood by that wall over there, and I... Hart! I drove the foreign memories away, then sighed and turned to Mordred. I had so many questions. Why the hell did he help us? And what would that help cost?

  "It's one of Bel's companions!" Donut said into the channel, as if reading my thoughts. "He lives for evil pranks and practical jokes. But we thought he was dead."

  "Not quite." Mordred shook his finger at Donut. "And what, young man, do you think is the line between an evil prank and a good one?"

  He made no move to wait for an answer, instead assuming an offended expression, crossing his arms, and leaning back against the wall.

  Bel's companion. Why would the God of Thieves help us when we were square? I had seen him before, somewhere. Fair skin, multicolored eyes, a long straight nose, a top hat... The Joker! I realized then what the last words he'd said had meant.

  "Wait, you can hear our conversations with one another?"

  "Ha! If only you knew..." Mordred closed his eyes and placed the fingers of both hands against his forehead, paused, then spread his hands apart. "I can read the thoughts of most sentient beings located nearby. Why do you think they call me mad? Hearing the thoughts of other people is enough to drive anyone crazy." He clasped his hands together, rolled his eyes back, and then returned to his normal voice. "But I cannot read yours. No one can, at least not beyond reading whatever your face tells them." He twirled his index finger in the air musingly. "But your friend is happy today, for some reason. And neither his pregnant girlfriend nor the fantastic dagger he'd recently scored have anything to do with that. Nor is it his miraculous survival from earlier today. So, why is he happy? Is he sane? The insane are often insanely happy, after all."

  "Mm-hmm." Realizing that this performance was going to continue, and that we could only ask questions after it was complete, I put my pipe in my mouth and looked at Donut.

  He was just standing there with a serene smile. It was a familiar sight, that face of his that looked like a kid on Christmas, that timid expectation of the annual miraculous appearing of a new remote-controlled helicopter in red wrapping paper. Max and I had never gotten copters as kids, unless you counted the ones we bought when we were twenty five, and that had made us the envy of the whole block even at that age. Our wives thought we were mad, naturally, but what did they know? Women just didn't understand. Anyway, Donut could smile all he wanted. I knew he wasn't crazy. Not yet, anyway.

  As I considered these things, Mordred showed us his empty palms, removed his top hat, and pulled a severed rabbit's head out of it. Judging by the drops of red sprinkling the ground, he had just severed it himself. He tossed the bunny head aside, overturned his top hat, and dumped out the bloodied headless carcass of some kind of bird. After another couple of shakes, a squirrel crawled out and sat on his shoulder. "Crawled out" meaning Mordred pulled it out by its tail. The animal screamed furiously, clinging to the cylinder with its paws, but two hard blows against the wall changed its mind, and it took up its perch.

  "So, what did you need gold for?" I asked, hoping I was right and the show was finally over.

  "I get the coins, you get the confidence," he shrugged. "If I asked for anything less, you wouldn't have taken me seriously. But Cathella is behind you, you're here—everything worked out, didn't it?"

  "Did Hart send you there? Why? What does he want with me?"

  "Each of the Great Ones seeks only his own interests. Alliances, wars, the swapping of key figures—all of that is normal, but times do come when every being must decide whose side he or she is on."

  The image of the Hatter from the mad tea party was gone now. The being before me was unlike a man now. The madness in his multicolored eyes had turned to wisdom. This companion of the God of Thieves looked most like an ancient serpent who had for some mysterious reason deigned to take up human form.

  I heard a rustling sound beside me. Donut slowly sank to the ground, then froze, staring at the ceiling with his eyes glazed over.

  "He is not hurt and will come to his senses in five minutes," Mordred reassured me. "Here, take this, and give it to the girl. I hope she has not forgotten." He pulled a simple silver ring out of his pocket and passed it to me.

  Mordred's Memory

  Accessory; ring.

  Durability: 3700/3700.

  Epic, scalable.

  Bind on equip.

  No minimum level.

  +255 to intellect.

  +127 to constitution.

  Strengthens one's bond with summoned creatures.

  Weight: .02 lbs.

  I failed to contain my surprise. "This is for Vaessa?"

  Am I the one going mad here?

  OK, calm down, Roman. I looked around, just to be sure. I saw the dungeon gate with its five-pointed star at the center, the black bindstone at the entrance, and the wide corridor vanishing into the darkness. Donut still lying on the floor. Everything seemed in order, but...

  "Three centuries past, the one whose name you recall so often sent me to Craedia," explained Mordred with a distant smile. "Diarten dar Luan needed a helper, a servant. And five years after that, the necromancer had a daughter..."

  "I know. The servant saved Vaessa and left a note for her father."

  "I had no right to interfere. Direct intervention is neither my lord's method nor mine. It would not have helped, in any case. There was Loaetia's diadem, Kahella's knife, Ulmao's skull..." he sighed. "And then the Great Trickster sent me after the Star of Hittara."

  We stood silent for a minute, maybe more. Mordred smirked and stroked his squirrel as I tried to understand. I'd realized by now that it was his soul I had pulled out of that bloody vault. That ex
plained many things, but not everything.

  "How did Hart find out about the plans of the Twice Cursed God?" I asked, contemplating a motionless Donut.

  "There is no need for him to know. Every Great Essence plays their own game, fighting against those Great Essences who interfere. This can in fact occur openly or through an alignment of probabilities, for in conjunction with... Never mind, that does not matter. The point is that it always happens, and it prevents any one of them from rising to supremacy."

  "But Vill managed to receive power from without, and now everyone plays against him, no?"

  Mordred shook his head. "Not everyone. Only those in whose interests it lies to oppose him. Vill has grown stronger. Providence has selected a Black Demon to oppose him. The probabilities of the interests of all concerned have intersected in you, demon. But none of those interested will openly help you, as I am sure you already know. The Great Balance cannot be violated, but sometimes..."

  "Sometimes what?"

  "I have paid you back for rescuing me, and so I cannot give you any more gratitude. But you cast seventy pounds of gold into one of those bowls without even knowing what you were purchasing." Mordred threw up his hands and became the Mad Hatter once more. "I deceived you, Dark One, and Providence took note, so I may offer you one more thing."

  "You helped us deal with the guards and opened the portal to the Tomb of the Forgotten God—and you're offering to help some more?"

  I hardly understood any of these divine calculations of balance. How much gold could I pay to give Vill a solid kick to the ass? Even without taking any HP? But at least I hadn't spent all that gold in vain.

  "The Temple of Myrt is located above the Tomb of Arkam. I can help you get inside."

  "You'll go there with us?"

  "Alas, I will not go onto the temple grounds," Mordred replied with a slashing gesture. "I would like to see what has changed since the last time I was there, but now is not the time to anger those copper-headed servants of Good. The main building of the temple complex, where Sebastian's office is located, is currently closed as a relief in the wall collapsed there some time ago. From there, it is not far to the tomb's entrance."

  I chuckled. "I won't even ask how you know who we needed to see or that we planned to go to the temple."

  "Do you really think that no one knows about the mad champion besides you? Ha! Even I know that only the Grand Champion can examine the hex the amulet bears." Mordred smiled and nodded at Donut. "Your friend will come to his senses in a moment, and as long as you have no plans to visit the remains of the deceased god right now..."

  I gestured that he pause. "Wait. I still need to examine that gate. But first, what happened to that relief in the temple?"

  "The Caëntine Relief, made by the architect mage Vel'cato. It's one of the greatest treasures in Vaedarr's Temple of the Blessed Myrt," Mordred explained. "Its left side collapses, though, whenever Myrt is angered. A little over a month ago, the saints there did something and..." he bulged out his eyes, clenched his lips, and waved his hands in a pantomime of the collapse. "I think this is the sixth rebuild already. It comes down, and the builders get to work restoring it yet again..."

  "I see. Thank you." I walked to the bindstone and placed my hand on it. Of course, I didn't want to divulge the place of my revival to any NPC, even to a friendly one, but there was no alternative. Some dungeons' information could only be accessed by activating the stone by the entrance. This was one of them.

  Tomb of the Forgotten God.

  Unique. Recommended for a party of level 200+ players. Maximum party size: 500 people. Non-player characters are prohibited from entering. Exceptions:

  1. Paladins of the Order of the Forgotten God.

  2. NPCs who have joining player clans and modified their stats.

  What? I couldn't even take Kan or Raena with me, given that I hadn't changed their stats or talents. I turned to Mordred with yet another question.

  "Do you know anything about this Order of the Forgotten God? Who are they, and where can I find them?"

  "I wondered when you would ask about them." Mordred flicked his squirrel's nose and gave the still-immobile Donut a dubious look.

  "They are the former servants of Arkam. When their god decided to give up his life, they went a little crazy. Since that day, they have been awaiting his awakening."

  "They've been waiting for five thousand years?!"

  "So? The world has seen greater manifestations of human stupidity, believe me. When their god went to seek wisdom in the Dark Ocean, he found something he did not intend. After that, he could only have one hundred devotees with him. The rest of them died instantly. This upset him greatly, of course, and so he asked his friend to bury him. Rumor says that Myrt found the burial of Arkam the most difficult thing he ever did. Ever since then, the Tomb of Arkam has been sealed by the gates Myrt created."

  "Wait—if he's dead, that means the danger has passed."

  "Then why do you think those gates are still sealed?" Mordred chuckled.

  "Teiran is building an invasion force within those gates, and—"

  "I know, Krian. I have been watching my rescuer for a long time now. I am aware that you must destroy Teiran, Dark One." He laughed. "Get used to it. When Providence chooses you, you must act the part. I would not worry too much in this particular case, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  "There have always been a hundred of them, men and women. They were trained and made ready for a day such as this. They can withstand the magic of Arkam, but that magic will not even touch you two-lived. Those one hundred warriors and mages will have no difficulty destroying the Lord of Darkness and all his troops."

  "So, I just have to win them over to my side."

  "They reside in Nantes County, two hundred miles from Vaedarr. If you manage to come to an agreement with Sebastian, the Order will come to the capital within three days. Their people have been waiting for this moment for thousands of years, after all. So, worry not, demon. This will be a bed of roses for you."

  Donut stirred. "Bl-bloody hell!" Propping himself up on his elbow, he looked around. "Roman, how long have I been out?" The rogue rose to his feet with obvious difficulty, then almost fell over again when he saw what the system told him. He bowed deeply to Mordred.

  "Thank you!"

  "The Great Trickster does sometimes grant favor to two-lived like yourself, through his companions," the being replied with a smirk. "Your deeds have earned your reward. Besides, in times like these, you will need it."

  "Tier seven veil out of five, and tier twelve group invis?! Man, now not even the royal guard will be able to see me. And +5% to critical hit from invis. That makes me cooler than Max!"

  "I'm not sure what all of that means," I answered with a smile, "but I'm guessing Hart granted some wish of yours?"

  "Roman, tier twelve invis... It doesn't even exist!" He nodded at the smiling divine companion. "Only beings like him have that kind of stealth! But I'm just a mortal. Too bad you're the only one who can be party leader. Otherwise, we could be—"

  "The master assassin accompanying the Black Demon of the Prophecy," nodded Mordred, who then turned and pointed. "Gentlemen, assuming the young master's enthusiasm has settled down and that you, Dark One, are ready to proceed to the temple, well, it's time."

  A circular motion with his hand summoned the same worn-looking portal. Mordred gestured for us to follow him.

  The portal brought us to a narrow niche lining a long, well-lit corridor made of uneven gray walls.

  "Stop!" ordered Mordred as soon as we stepped out of the iridescent rainbow shimmer. He handed me a brown vial. "The lord's ring and this shall allow you to be unnoticed. Your friend is already good to go in that regard."

  Great Elixir of Invisibility.

  Epic.

  Duration: 1 hour.

  Any sentient being who consumes this liquid cannot be seen by anyone. Stealing or attacking breaks the effect.

  Once I had fini
shed the elixir, and Donut had activated his new gifts, Morderd took us into the corridor and pointed to a lit room that sat not far from the niche where we'd exited the portal.

  "That door to the left of the entrance leads to the central temple building," he explained. "Ahead is the way to the barracks. However, if I am still allowed to even enter this temple, my presence will be felt by the Grand Champion, and he and the entire guard will come running in righteous indignation. Not exactly what we need right now, is it?"

  "All right. But what do we do with those two?" I nodded at the knights guarding the entrance Mordred had indicated. They looked no older than eighteen years of age. Level 300, plate mail, triangular shields, and scabbards hanging from their belts. Their placement made sense. Given that the wild territory of the catacombs had an exit into the temple, well, there had to be guards.

  "That's the only big problem," Mordred elucidated. "The key to the entrance is held by the guard on the right. You could kill them and steal the key, but that would raise an alarm. No, you need one of them to open that door."

  "And how do we do that?" Donut asked timidly.

  "Have you forgotten who is here with you, whelp?" Mordred sniffed. "Go wait by the door."

  Feeling like an idiot, I followed the two geniuses as we walked right by the guards at the entrance and froze at Mordred's word.

  "Now, listen!" instructed the divine companion.

  "You're such an idiot, Mitt." The guard on the right shook his head, nodding at the empty hall we had just walked down. "First day and you volunteer for guard duty. If I wasn't your friend..."

  The other smiled. "What's wrong with guard duty? My dad always said it was the first to distinguish themselves who received the best assignments."