Looming Shadow: Journey to Chaos book 2

by Brian Wilkerson

  Tiza pounced and Basilard yanked her back by her ponytail. She screeched and Nolien jumped to his feet and demanded that he let her go. Basilard complied by tossing her into him. Nolien's arms reacted automatically and encircled her to steady her. Tiza pushed him away and he fell down.

  “Both of you fail. You promised me that this would never happen again. It was on the airship out of Najica, remember?”

  “But!”

  “You promised. Sathel was supposed to fix this. Green Dust –”

  Tiza shivered. “Spider Daylra didn't want to use...that stuff.”

  “In that case, I will have to take matters into my own hands. Your punishment for breaking your promise is wearing that dress until we return to Roalt.”

  “That's not fair!”

  Basilard made a patient look. “You're right. Take out your patched clothes and I'll help you.”

  Tiza nodded with hope in her eyes. She returned to the tent, brought out her bag, and took out the clothes. Before they were out of her hands, Basilard snapped, and the clothes burst into flames. Tiza dropped them in shock and they were soon ashes.

  “I'm your mentor. I'm not supposed to be fair.”

  “Please, Daylra, don't make me do this.”

  “Did I make you put it on?” Tiza looked down. “Did I?”

  “...No.”

  “Did you promise me you would fix this?”

  “...Yes.”

  “Are you aware of what will happen if you do not fix this?”

  “...Tenderfoot will be transferred to a different team.”

  “That's correct. Tomorrow, we will train as usual and you'll see it's not as bad as you think.”

  “Not as bad –”

  “Dresses are not evil; if your friend protects you, then it doesn't mean he thinks you're weak, and lashing out at minor slights is a sign of immaturity. I shouldn't have to tell you all this.”

  “...Okay.”

  The meal resumed. Haburt talked about his findings for those interested and discussed Dragon's Lair connections with Basilard. Nolien sneaked glances at Tiza while she pretended not to notice and quelled her anger and humiliation. While they cleaned up, Eric asked, “Seriously, who’s the princess?”

  Tiza's grimace transformed into a trickster grin. “The princess of this mountain, Aracnid Omniferris the Starkiller. It is by my goodwill that you are allowed in my domain.”

  “Oh! Uh...Thank you, Your Highness. No, he's not her consort.” Both she and Nolien blushed. “You're old enough to tell the difference. Are you teasing them?”

  When Tiza woke up the next morning, she was still wearing the dress, gloves, and stockings. All of them were as clean and unwrinkled as the day before. She spat on the skirt and a rune activated to dissipate it. She grabbed her dagger to tear it to shreds so she could shove them up Basilard's ass, but then she imagined Sathel's disapproving look. Instead, she grabbed the ribbon, the one thing Basilard allowed her take off, and put it back in her hair. When she left her tent, she was wearing it as a bow.

  At breakfast, Basilard nodded his approval. “Part 1: A+.” Tiza blushed despite herself.

  “That's a becoming blush,” Eric said. “My friend says it surpasses the powder he made for noble ladies back in Ceiha.”

  Tiza’s right hand clenched and her left hand gave him the finger.

  “Part 2: C.”

  Nolien joined them at the fire and started to act normal. Tiza responded in kind. They sat close and talked as they always did in the guild mess hall.

  Haburt, Zettai, and Sias all joined in their turn and asked Eric a question to see what he'd say. He responded with philosophical nonsense. While they ate, he spouted random information about the food and how it related to magical study or was thought to relate to it. Spontaneously, he threw the food away and said he didn’t want to be a cannibal.

  “Those are vegetables,” Nolien said.

  “No, they’re mana just like I am. It’s not different from me eating you.”

  “Then what are you going to eat?”

  Eric assumed a meditative posture. “I shall subsist on the dew of the universe!”

  His stomach growled.

  “Then again…that too would be mana…as would be everything else in Noitearc. Thus, it is impossible to survive without committing fundamental cannibalism. Then again, again, it is the nature Chaos, the source of all mana, to be in a constant state of change; never created and never destroyed, but always existing in a series of shapes, whether leafy green or brown poop.”

  He retrieved his plate and ate everything on it. This would have included the plate itself, but his teeth couldn’t break it, so he put it aside.

  “I wonder if monsters come to this realization and, if so, then are we not the truly mad ones?”

  “No,” Tiza said. “Shut up and clean your plate.”

  After breakfast, the team prepared for the second trip into Dengel’s Lair. Now that Eric had seen the whole of the path to the chamber, Haburt wished to know if it were possible for him to travel it. In response, Eric pulled a bag out of his pocket, said a word to make it expand, stuffed Haburt into the bag by the ear, shrank the bag, and stuffed it back in his pocket.

  “An elfin philosopher once said, 'Space is an illusion and limited volume is an excuse.' Now if you'll excuse me, I have to garden the dogs.”

  He heaved the sack over his shoulder and floated to the tower on a current of air. The rest of Team Four+ followed him apprehensively. The last time, he was gone for nine days and now they had more reason than ever to worry. Only The Trickster's reassurance convinced them not to follow him.

  For his second trip, Eric threw caution to the winds and jumped between the traps like he was playing hopscotch. He threw in flips, handsprings, and pirouettes all the way to the top of the staircase. Then he threw back his head and laughed madly.

  “I have the power! I AM THE POWER!”

  Inside the lair, Eric dumped Haburt on the ground with a “ho-ho-ho!” After coming to his senses, Haburt made notes with disinterest. Although this was what his sponsors sent him here to do, and he found them all interesting, the lair of a long-dead mage didn’t set his mind on fire like the village of a long-dead society. Then he saw the mirror. His face flushed, he grew very giddy, and he moved his arms up and down. He even did a victory dance.

  “A Meditation Aurel...!” he whispered. “I've never seen one of these intact before...The Vatics Palciso Gjsai mentions use in religious ceremonies...confront inner demons... after fourth-century references disappear... initiates possessed by evil spirits... Long bouts of sorrow and anxiety. Professor Julian Kempe put forth the hypothesis that this was in fact a mental breakdown caused by the mirror's power…This is truly a groundbreaking discovery. All other examples of Meditation Aurel have been broken beyond repair...Why would Dengel have one of these?”

  “You could ask it,” Haburt's reflection said.

  “Excuse me?” Haburt asked.

  Mirror Haburt sneered. “Didn't hear me, did you? Not used to your research subjects talking?”

  “Quiet, you!”

  “I believe it was more that they couldn't at the time.”

  Haburt turned away and plugged his ears. “I'm beyond that! I am!”

  “Don't lie to yourself. When you saw her in a dress you –”

  It fell silent when Eric replaced the sheet. His eyes were clear and focused as they glared at Haburt. His staff was chambered and ready to thrust.

  “So it's true.”

  “Abyss take it. Of course he would recover at this moment…”

  “Kidnapping Tiza, brainwashing her into thinking she's your dead daughter, assisting Mareth Jacquins with her work – it's all true.”

  “Yes, it is...”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't gut you right now and blame it on Dengel's ghost.”

  “Mrs. Aranid caught me on my way to the Latrot Justice Station. I had a written confession in my pocket. She didn't kill me.”


  “Good reason.”

  “We both agreed that death was too good for me. I experienced years of nightmarish hallucinations, random memory loss, and itchy spider bites before she was satisfied. I’ll have you know that all of this was after I lived out my prison sentence.”

  “How’d you do it? Sathel’s a senior in the black ops part of the guild and her husband literally has eyes in the back of his head. How’d you get away with their only child?”

  “I had help. Overcoming one of the Four Loves is a high achievement for ordercrafters. Helping me with my grief became this ordercrafter’s excuse because we were friends at the time.”

  “Nulso.”

  “Yes. They were playing at a park when we… decided to do it. He suppressed their power while I chanted spells. Then we snatched her and ran away.”

  “Just like that?”

  “It wasn’t easy! We were both Greater Mages at the time and my friend was empowered by Order, but we still came close to death.”

  “How close?”

  “If my friend were not immortal, he would certainly have died and, even now, Retina is killing him. He’s the reason why Nulso’s ponytail is shaped like a noose. Soon it will break his neck and his body will no longer be a suitable tool for Order. At that point, Order will revoke his immortality.”

  “What about you?”

  “I was in critical condition for days due to the injuries and poisons I suffered at Sathel’s hands. I would have been killed instantly if not for my own formidable spirit power, depth of magical knowledge and the assistance of my friend. Even now I have chronic health issues because my body cannot completely heal.”

  Nulso’s later attempt to abduct Annala flashed through Eric’s mind.

  “Does this happen often – ordercraft kidnapping?”

  “I don’t know! I’m not part of that society!”

  Suddenly, Eric’s crystal blade lay against Haburt's throat. “I give you fair warning, Mr. Haburt, if you as much as appear to be a threat to Tiza, I will unleash the full power and knowledge of my enlightenment. Sathel can target your organs, but I can target your very essence.” Just as suddenly, the spear returned to Eric's side. “With that out of the way, allow me to give you a tour.”

  First, he showed his client the cauldron and Haburt marveled over its design and expense. Next, Eric showed him the ingredients: ear of goat, bone of eel, powdered human tongue, among others. When the scholar read off “diluted energy from the womb of the mother of elves,” his attention perked. He unscrewed the lid and took a whiff. Immediately, he made a face. The contents smelled like someone threw up and decided to keep it. Then an idea struck him.

  “Could this really be!?” Haburt smelled again. “The first Mana Juice! We know Dengel had Low Mana Inhibition, but to think he discovered this at the dawn of the AA era! It wasn't commercially available until the nineteenth century and wasn't invented until the tenth!”

  “My guild has claimed for ages that Dengel invented it, but no one believes us.”

  “Yes, your guild may be entitled to some royalties when I return...”

  Now borderline maniac, he inspected the rest of the lair. Every detail of every jar was scrutinized: design, rune, contents. Eric had to catch him when he smelled something particularly strong. When he woke up, he turned his attention to the scrolls.

  First, he made notes of the position of each one. Second, he brought out a camera crystal and photographed everything twice over. Third, he stood directly over one and pulled out his staff. As he swirled it in gentle circles, small air currents gathered. Softly and slowly, he began to chant, “Work of sages, sweat they gave, with this spell you shall endure. Knowledge of ages, wisdom to save, with this spell I shall procure. Wind Vault!”

  A film of air cradled the precious paper and lifted it into the air. It thickened and compressed. The scroll was now encased in a solid bubble of air. He repeated the process until Eric interrupted him.

  “If you need help with translations, give me a shout.”

  “You understand this language?”

  “My vision quest granted me great wisdom and understanding, leading to new abilities. One of them is fluency in a dead language. By the way, part of it is encoded.” As Haburt resigned himself to a dreary task ahead, Eric put an arm around him. “Don't worry, Professor. You just have to list me as your primary source and pay an outrageously unfair translation fee.”

  “Trickster's Choice.”

  “That makes no sense; now jump in the bag so I can cross the carrot and make a piano.”

  Haburt sighed and obeyed. On the way back, he was shaken up, whirled around, and subjected to every non-lethal trap in the tower.

  Eric stepped into the courtyard to see Tiza sword fighting a skeleton while the rest of Team Four+ watched. The two slashed, ducked, and parried until they crossed blades in a shoving match. With the superior weight granted by her muscles and organs, Tiza bore down on it. The skeleton flowed around her force and palm-struck high in her chest. Tiza over-balanced and was knocked her flat on her back. The skeleton fell on her and its blade pierced the ground next to her head.

  “You…” a voice whispered from the skeleton's direction. “...are dead...”

  “Best thirteen out of fifteen?”

  Eric turned to Nolien. “Do you mind?”

  Nolien explained that that while he and Tiza were looking for (more) trouble, they found (more) skeletons. After Tiza shattered the first batch, this one stepped forth. It – or rather “she,” as Nolien corrected – was impressed by Tiza's feat. She introduced herself and drew a genuine sword.

  “From what I figure, she's Dengel's contemporary and lived here while he did. We don't know much else because talking is difficult for her.”

  “What exactly is... she?”

  “You know how beastfolk are sentient monsters? This is a sentient skeleton. They both fall under the designation of mana breed because they are supernatural creatures as well as demon because most of their kind are dangerous, carnivorous, and mindless. If they were more than a skeleton –”

  “...Zombie...” said a second skeleton. This one sat against the wall.

  “Forgive me,” Nolien said to him and then to Eric. “They are zombies who have decayed over the last two millennium and now they look like skeletons. Thus, we cannot tell if they belong to the beastfolk definition or not.”

  Without facial muscles or eyes, Eric was unable to tell if the second skeleton took offense to this. Then the skeleton raised one hand and extended one finger. From his studies, Eric knew that gesture was at least as old as Ancient Ceiha. If I were something that looked monstrous, I certainly wouldn’t want to be lumped in with genuine monsters.

  The first skeleton noticed Eric's staff and stared. The pause was long enough for Tiza to knock her head off. It was caught by the second skeleton.

  “Did that hurt?” Tiza asked.

  “...No...” the first skeleton replied. Her companion placed her head on her neck. The area between shoulders and chin smoked and, when it cleared, the break was gone. “...Prism...”

  “You mean this?” Eric pointed to his staff.

  “...Where...?”

  “It's a long story...but the short version is I got it in Kyraa.”

  “...Light...”

  “I'm not sure. It appeared after a run-in with Tasio.”

  “He...Who...Returns...All...To...Dust?” both skeletons asked.

  Eric nodded. He hadn’t heard that one before, but it made sense. Everything died eventually and, when they did, their bodies decayed and became dust, which fed the ground and gave rise to plants. It was the same with the streams of mana constantly flowing in and out of his own soul.

  Remember, you are dust and to dust you will return.

  “....Dengel...Successor...” said the First.

  “...Free...Them...”

  “One moment, please.”

  Eric dumped Haburt out of the bag and asked him for pen and paper. The professor left for
his yurt and returned moments later. He offered them to Eric, who offered them to the skeletons.

  “Please tell me you can use these.”

  First Skeleton passed them to Second Skeleton. “...Priest...” she said in explanation. Second Skeleton filled one page and then another and handed them both to Eric. He sat down to read them and learned that Dengel kidnapped locals and used soulcraft to make them his eternal servants. Over the centuries, those whose spirits were weak became feral and dangerous because the soulcraft imprisoned them inside their bodies. Even as dust, they were trapped so long as they remained in the castle.

  Eric stood and stamped his staff butt on the ground.

  “Everyone, I'm going to need your help with this.”

  In short order, they took their positions. Nolien and Tiza stood in a tower at either end of the main castle gate. Haburt stood within the courtyard and Zettai stood outside. Both of them stood on a rune representing death and life, respectively, and both were connected by a chain representing the Abyss. Basilard knelt off to the side with BloodDrinker wedged into the ground and Sias knelt next to him with her hands clasped and head bowed in prayer. Eric himself stood in the center of the courtyard and Grey Dengel walked up to him.

  “This is a fine array you designed, but it will fail. I designed this soul lock to be unbreakable.”

  “The universe we live in is based on Chaos. Nothing is unbreakable.”

  Grey Dengel smiled, ruffled his hair, and dissipated into vapor. Eric restrained his own smile, refocused, and raised his staff high into the air.

  “By my spirit and by my wisdom, I am the lord of this domain! Out of every enslaved soul within these walls, not one shall remain! I hereby decree that they shall be set free! In one!” He pointed to Nolien. “Two!” He pointed to Tiza. “Three!”

  With both hands, he slammed the butt of his staff on the ground before him and illuminated a rune diagram beneath his feet. It spider-webbed across the courtyard and up the walls. This was Tiza’s and Nolien's cue.

  Each of them stood next to a metal crank connected to the gate. They grabbed it with both hands and it sucked up mana to power itself. The gears groaned and protested from disuse, but they slowly turned and pulled the wooden frames apart. Next was Basilard's role.