by Adam Elliott
Feed the Soul was a variant on a rather standard mage ability. Most spellcasting classes had some form of quick MP regen, whether it was producing items to refill pools, draining it from opponents or recalling their own spent mana as Celia might have done. His version was simple but effective. It couldn't be used at the same time as his Grasp the Earth ability since they were both stances, but switching between the two in combat could offer a good amount of tactical flexibility.
Cayden looked briefly through the rest of his abilities and double checked the impromptu 'spellbook he had created, a list of effective runic combinations he had developed during his training. It everything went according to plan he wouldn't need any of it. But when had anything gone according to plan for him when it came to Babel?
At last satisfied, he tugged off his glasses, opened his menu, and stored them in his inventory. Without them, he felt strangely blind, ignorant of the dozens of floating messages and callouts that he'd grown so accustomed to seeing in Islo. Then, with a deep breath to steady himself, he walked across the street and through the front door of the inn.
The men saw him almost immediately Their slouched spines tightened in an instant as they drew to attention, the one on the left going so far as to grasp the sheath of the wickedly curved blade that rested alongside his hip. There wasn't going to be a fight here, no one was that stupid, but it was a testament to just how on edge the men were. Something had them spooked, and Cayden didn't think it was him.
“Gentlemen." Cayden said sourly. That dismissive pleasantry out of the way, he looked past them to Symbal. The owner, a gorgeous silver-haired woman of an otherwise indeterminate age, acknowledged Cayden with narrowed eyes. "Symbal, I'm sor-"
“Oh don't apologize. It isn't your fault these men are scum." She interrupted, looking to the two. "Pay your tab, take your bounty and get the hell out of my bar. Oh, and enjoy the money while it lasts. He isn't going to be the only one hurting once Sarah is returned to us."
The two goons exchanged glances, each urging the other to snap back at their host, but neither smart enough to come up with a rebuttal to her threat. Instead, the one on the left slapped down a handful of coins before both turned their attention to Cayden.
Somehow they looked even more generic up close than they had at a distance. If not for several inches of difference in height he might have called them twins. They had the same jawline, the same nose, even their bald heads were similar in size and shape. “So where'd your boss find you, goons'r'us? Consumer Goon Digest?”
“You're running late enou-”
“One more.” He pleaded. “Something Awful?”
The two exchanged a look that screamed dear God, why us?
“Not a fan of millennial culture huh? Fair enough." The two were easily pushing the upper end of forty, but it looked like dad jokes weren't going to win him any friends.
“I assume you want this.” Cayden said, offering his mirror.
“Your equipment first, if you'd please.” The one on the right said. Even though his words were measured and professional in tone, Cayden could tell the man was putting on airs. He said the right things, in the right ways, but all Cayden could think of was a guy who'd watched enough spy movies that he thought he had a good impersonation of hired muscle.
“Of course. My mistake." Cayden struggled briefly with the more awkward menus of the mirror as he unequipped his armor a piece at a time, setting it onto a separate paper doll to be quickly re-equipped should the opportunity arise. "Anything else?"
“We need to search you." This time it was lefty. The two took Cayden's shrug as an acquiescence, the one on the right flipping through screens on Cayden's device, with the other began to pat him down. "This says you have a duplicate mirror; we'll need that too."
“Then your boss is going to have to extend the deadline. Look where it is.”
The man squinted at the screen, then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “The forty-ninth floor?”
“I gave it to a friend, so it was easier to dupe if I ever lost it." Cayden lied. "She isn't answering when I call her, so you can either get an extension or we can go without. Not like I'm going to get the stupid thing."
The burly man eyed Cayden for several seconds, then looked off to the right, reading something displayed by his glasses. Probably a list of things to do before they brought Cayden in. These guys were amateurs. “Fine.”
“Could you please cut the TSA crap?” Cayden grumbled then, looking to the man who was now on his third attempt at frisking him. “Or at least buy me a drink first?”
“Why, you got something to hide?”
Yes actually. He thought. That wouldn't exactly make for a great answer, so instead, he replied. "Besides my growing discomfort at being groped by a man twice my age?"
That pushed a button. The man stood upright, looming over him in his best impression of a twenty-something fratboy. He half expected that the goon was going to ask him if he 'wanted to go' before a few taps on the back from his fellow brought him back to his senses.
“Before we go, are you taking me to see Sarah, or not?" Cayden asked bluntly. "Because if your grant plan is to beat me down the moment, we step out of town, I'm going, to be honest, that isn't going to work out well for you."
“That so?" The angrier of the two scoffed. "Going to kill us both with no arms or armor huh?"
“Well, I won't. No. Your boss David might, once he hears what you've passed up on.”
“How did you-?” Lefty asked in sudden alarm. A combination of the small smile on Cayden's lips and a jab from his companion made him realize that Cayden had played him.
He wasn't sure Immolatus had been their boss, but it had been a fair assumption. The bounty was over a month old at this point, and with David out of the public light, there had been plenty of discussion about whether or not he'd actually died and no one knew. Overall the search for him should have been ramping down, but kidnapping with the help of a powerful mage was a massive escalation. Who would be more interested in grabbing him than David?
“Clever, I'll give you that." The one on the right cut in before his apoplectic comrade could spew any further vitriol in Cayden's direction. "He's willing to pay five million bucks to see you dead for something I'm guessing you didn't do. What makes you think you have anything he'd want to deal over."
Cayden gestured to the man's glasses. "You can get in touch with him, can't you? Tell him I've unlocked a unique skill, then let's let him decide."
Chapter Thirty-One
As he'd expected, it didn't matter that Immolatus knew it was bait. The possibility was too much for him to pass up.
The original plan had been to take him two miles out of the city and murder him. Lefty had made that much abundantly clear during the ten miles mounted trek from Islo to their hideout. He thought they still should, in fact. In his opinion, the assured thirty-thousand for killing Cayden outright was better than the possible bonus righty assumed they would get for bringing the matter to Immolatus' attention.
Lefty ought to be thanking Cayden. Had they gone with his original plan, Silver would have pounced in upon them the moment it became evident they were going to kill him. She'd been scrying on him since he got back to the second floor, waiting to intervene if things got bad. He wondered just how hard her jaw must have hit the floor when he admitted that he had a unique skill.
The three of them had dismounted half a mile from their destination, leaving the road behind to go delving through the woods. They hadn't bothered to bind Cayden, but they still flanked him on either side, ready to intervene at a moment's notice if he tried to bolt, or if a wandering monster crossed their path, though most such creatures would be dissuaded by their level alone.
They walked in silence through near total darkness, the snap of tree branches and brush of leaves and dirt the only sounds accompanying their travel. Cayden couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of him, but he suspected the displays worn by his compatriots were feeding them information that
allowed them to navigate the woods without the obvious draw of a light glowing out of the darkness.
“Stop.” One of the men instructed, though in the darkness it was hard to tell which. Regardless, their march halted, the second thug placing a meaty hand on his shoulder as his companion fumbled with something in the dark.
A flash of light assaulted Cayden's eyes, momentarily blinding what night vision he'd acquired. As his squinting eyes adjusted, he could see what looked to be waves of white light rolling off an invisible, rounded surface. The splashes of light flowed upwards for perhaps twenty feet before draining off into nothingness as new streaks followed the path they'd laid.
It didn't take long for him to realize what he was looking at. A magical barrier, and a powerful one at that. He couldn't begin to guess at its size, save that it must be enough to cover and conceal their hideout. Cayden had heard of things like this, though never seen one, either in person or online footage. The sphere would defend those inside from magical attacks, divinations and so forth, while an aversion spell similar to the one on his scroll would cause a casual player to steer away from the base without realizing it.
“Through here.” The men ordered, forcing him through a small portal that had opened in the magical dome.
The inside of the dome looked nothing like the illusion projected onto its surface. There were few trees but plenty of stumps surrounding the ruins that dominated the majority of the area covered by the barrier. It was also lighter inside, the inner surface of the dome rippling with the same sort of light as its outer surface had when it was breached. It was bright enough that it felt as though they'd stepped from midnight to midday in an instant.
“This way.” Lefty gestured, urging Cayden towards the ruins.
He'd figured as much. Ruins like these dotted nearly every floor in Babel, small little quasi-dungeons with no quests attached. They usually held a single chest of mediocre items, making them a decent choice for a day trip if you couldn't pull together an actual party. The locations of most such ruins on at least the first ten floors were well documented, which made Cayden wonder just how they'd managed to conceal this one. It took someone with a lot of influence and just as much raw power to hide something like this. And why bother?
Probably for just such an occasion. He realized. A hidden bolthole on a low numbered floor that could be used to hold captives, both high and low level.
They led Cayden down a ramp towards an open stone doorway. Two men in dark armor flanked the open portal, though neither seemed particularly engaged with their work. Considering the difficulty in finding this place, Cayden suspected they had more concern about keeping people in than keeping them out.
His escorts took him down a long series of winding corridors, and down two more flights of stairs before depositing him in a large, empty chamber that Cayden suspected had once belonged to the boss of the ruins. The whole complex was constructed of the same yellowed, vine-covered stone that gave it an ancient air, and the boss room was no exception. A hundred feet across, its floor was covered in fine-grained sand. Eight passages led to visible, but empty cages that ringed the high-ceilinged room. Overall Cayden was left with the impression that he stood amidst some gladiatorial arena, albeit one with no seating.
He briefly wondered just how they'd managed to suppress the monster respawn for the dungeon when a sharp blow to the back of his knee buckled his leg. Lefty laughed as Cayden fell forward, the warrior's metal grieves clinking next to Cayden's face as he circled him once. "I'll get the boss."
“You're lucky we're being paid to keep you alive now.” The remaining guard remarked. “I think he'd kill you for free at this point. You really rubbed him the wrong way.”
“Yeah.” Cayden laughed as he pulled himself upright. “I'm sure he's normally such a real charmer.”
“Some people just can't be professional," Righty responded.
“Nah, he's just a funny guy. It's why I'm going to kill him last."
The older man chuckled at that, clearly getting the reference. “Because that ended real well for Sully.”
“You're right. I'll just help him let off some steam.” Cayden replied.
The two laughed, though it was full of tension. Righty would do his best to kill Cayden at the utterance of a word, and if the plan went sideways, Cayden might very well end up doing the same. A few shared jokes were never going to do much to change that.
The two waited in relative silence as their laughter dwindled. Cayden wanted to ask more of him, to ask his name perhaps, or to enquire just what it was that caused men like him to kill for money. But those were questions he suspected he didn't want to know the answer to. If the other man had any issues of his own, he didn't suggest it, instead lingering just out Cayden's reach.
Eventually, a cascade of footsteps began to echo from the sandstone hallway. Shadows danced around the torchlit corridor before figures emerged at last.
At their head was a man Cayden recognized, the towering brute Jerimiah who had made an attempt on his life all those weeks ago. The man scowled beneath his thick, braided red beard as he bore down on Cayden, greatsword already in hand despite the awkwardness such an act presented in the narrow hallways.
As Jerimiah exited the corridor, he revealed what Cayden had feared. The rest of his party had joined him, Priest, Mage and Rogue mere steps behind their party leader, along with nearly a dozen less well equipped, and thus likely lower leveled guards. Behind them came a single man clad in exquisite black robes. He was middle-aged and overweight, his expression the only one of the group that radiated boredom. The spellcaster, Cayden expected.
Behind him, Sarah was brought in, her lithe frame penned between two of the leather clad foot-soldiers. She looked for all the world like she had just fallen into bed after a long day at work, still dressed in the frilly but crumpled blue, black and white of the Dizzy Sheep's uniform. They weren't guarding her so much as ushering her along. It was evident she'd slept a little since he'd received her message, but the dark bags under her eyes and the general unsteadiness on her feet suggested that it had been not nearly enough.
“Sarah!” He shouted, the word echoing louder than he meant to amidst the enormous room.
She smiled wanly. “You don't ever listen to me, do you.”
“Only when it comes to steak.” He said, giving his best, most reassuring smile.
“Oh, don't you two just make a cute couple." The derisive words were thick with phlegm and trailed by a hacking cough, spoken from the shadows that still lingered in the hallway.
“David?” Cayden asked, squinting into the darkness.
What emerged from the darkness didn't look like David, despite carrying a facsimile of his voice. It barely looked human. It was nearly bald, only a few stray hairs poking up here and there from a spotted scalp. Its skin was stretched tight over its face, clinging to the bones beneath in a way that seemed more natural for a corpse than something alive. The eyes were milky and unfocused, each step a slow and methodical action with a young female warrior escorting the robed... thing by the arm.
“I prefer Immolatus.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“How?" Cayden asked, too stunned to even finish his thought.
Immolatus understood. It was a question he was probably asked quite often. "Am I alive? Cayden, I own the largest stockpile of potions in all of Babel." The skeletal figure fished gestured at nothing, and a potion was summoned to its hand. Apparently, the little rich boy could afford the top tier AR contacts that had just barely finished prototyping. "I discovered rather early on that Cure Disease potions could keep the worst symptoms at bay."
“Owned." Cayden replied, recalling back to recent news reports. David didn't own anything anymore, save whatever funds he had managed to hide in offshore accounts.
“Are you so sure of that?" Immolatus rasped. It pulled the stopper on the potion and downed it with some difficulty. Immediately Cayden saw its effects take hold, the skin growing looser and less pallid, h
is eyes clearing up enough that they finally met Cayden's. It was no cure, the former jock still looked worse than an end of life hospice patient rather than his robust old self, but it was still a marked improvement.
What Cayden couldn't figure out, is what he was getting at. Vitalita stocks had cratered. Even if he was acting as the power behind the throne, there was no throne left for him to be running.
“I was.” Cayden frowned. “Less so now, I admit.”
Immolatus laughed, a sound that was as terrifying to hear as he was to behold. He was standing under his power now, slowly walking into the light that shone from overhead torches. Being fully visible did him no favors as he slowly worked his way towards Cayden, and the man could see the revulsion in Cayden's eyes at the sight. “You don't like your handiwork speedrunner?”
“My handiwork? I had nothing to do with your insanity."
“Oh but you did.” The man shouted in response, spittle flying from fragile lips. “The moment you butted in on my plan, you did this to me!”
“So you admit that you planned to kill them both then?”
He snorted. "Is this your master plan Cayden, really? You've nothing to record me with and no one who would care if you did."
“You do kind of look like a Scooby-doo villain. Can't blame him for trying to get you to monolog" Sarah chimed in from the sidelines, earning herself a glare from David and a laugh from Cayden
“The next time she speaks. Gag her.” David instructed.
“This isn't all about a creepy real estate scam for this place, is it?” Cayden taunted. “Because I gotta tell you, you aren't going to get much.”
“Enough jokes." David growled angrily "Your skill is the only reason why I'm here at all. And the only reason you are still alive." The man said through narrowed eyes. "I suggest we discuss that instead."
“I think we both know that once you get what you want you'll probably still try to kill me anyways. I don't exactly have much to lose by figuring out why you wanted me dead in the first place. Who knows, maybe I can convince you otherwise.”
