I shook my head.
She sighed. "I see. Well, the thing is, it's not proven yet..."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'll tell you. Have you ever wondered how the combat account players overcome phantom limb pain?"
"Which pain?"
"Well, it's not exactly what it's called. We just call it phantom pain. You know, when someone loses a limb."
"I know what phantom limb pain is! I just never thought I'd hear it mentioned here."
"Have you already been to a real-world hospital after a mob attack?"
"Yeah."
"Then you probably know that getting wounded in the Glasshouse is not a good idea. And if you do, you shouldn't think about your injury or even look at it. The human brain is a complex thing. You can't imagine how much extra work it made for all those egg-headed researchers."
"I see. I actually wondered about it myself."
"Of course I wouldn't know how to explain it from any scientific point of view..."
"You're not alone," I said. "I have every reason to believe that those 'egg-headed researchers', as you so eloquently put it, have only scratched the surface. I dread to think how much stuff they're yet to discover — things that are both interesting and scary."
"Exactly my point," Nyra said, then warned me in all seriousness, "Now sit still. Don't move."
"Yep."
Obediently I closed my eyes and tried to distance myself from what was going on.
For a few seconds, I felt nothing. I was about to open my eyes when my interface was flooded with messages reporting my miraculous cure.
I looked up at the girl. Her face was flushed with pleasure. She must have received some Profession points — both for healing me and for removing the gag. As far as I knew, the lower the level of the victim and the higher the level of his or her torturer, the bigger the bonus the healer would get.
"Plus four to skill!" Nyra reported, confirming my suggestion. "Wish you got more injuries like these!" she added with a smile.
I chuckled. "I bet you would!"
"A special thanks for the gag," she said. "A very rare debuff. And cast by Jed himself!"
"He's quite well-known in this part of the world, isn't he?"
"Yeah, sort of," she replied, putting all her pots and vials back into her bag.
"How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing," she dismissed my question. "Our clan deputy leader told me to give you a free heal."
"Why would he do that?" I didn't like this sudden show of generosity. Free lunches are rarely a healthy idea.
"Jesus," she sighed. "You really should visit forums more often. You need to study the game. You've just given me the Dark camp's coordinates. This is very valuable intel. My clan is probably storming it as we speak. If we win, it means tons of bonuses for everyone."
"But you weren't the only person I told about the camp. The moment you removed the gag, I PM'd a couple of friends..."
She smiled. "You mean Varn and Uncle Vanya?"
"Yes. But how did you-"
"Cool down. Keep your hair on. There's plenty of work for everyone there. From what I've heard, most high-level Darkies are still alive. Armat and Jed aren't the kind of people you can smoke easily."
"I see," I mumbled, pensive.
"Don't sweat it," she waved her goodbye. "Go get some rest. Better still, click the logout button and get some proper shut-eye. The big bad guys can sort it out between themselves."
I bade my goodbye and headed for the wizard's tower.
Despite the constant rain, the Citadel's streets were packed. The Darkies' Drammen raid had caused quite a stir in the unhurried local lifestyle. The Citadel's inhabitants hadn't been quite so agitated even after the Calteans' bombings.
When I opened the chat, I learned that Armat and his men had given the Lighties a good hiding back in Drammen. I also read a few things I didn't like quite so much. Messages were coming in saying that some very weird mob had put a quick end to the Independents' raid, adding that videos of the combat would be following soon.
Videos! They were the last thing I needed. I just hoped they focused on the brave camp defenders while drawing no unwanted attention to the humble Digger lurking in the background.
I walked down the street deep in thought. Pensive, I paid no attention to the NPCs around me — who admittedly behaved strangely. They cast frowning sideways glances at me, nodding to each other knowingly. They exchanged whispers. I thought at first that it must have been the result of the overall mood in the Citadel, but when I took a closer look, I realized this kind of behavior was reserved for me alone. A dwarf knotted his bushy eyebrows, his glare boring a hole in me. An Alven serving girl looked out of a tavern and gave me a squinted look.
What's up? Anyone? What the hell was going on?
I ran all the way to the wizard's tower.
The NPCs' behavior wasn't good news. Could it be a glitch? Or problems with my account? Or could it be some secret nutty-programmer's setting suddenly activated?
Talk about bad timing. Things had only just started to work out.
I strode across the inner yard and literally stormed into the tower. I slammed the door shut and sank to the marble floor, heaving a sigh.
The reception hall was dim and quiet: a soothing change after the bustle outside. That was it. I'd had my share of adventures for the day. I could finally climb upstairs and catch forty winks.
"Anybody here?"
The wizard's voice sounded so hostile I nearly jumped. The room's stone walls crackled as if surging with electricity. The distinctive smell of ozone filled the air. My reply stuck in my throat. What was wrong with him?
"It's me," I squeaked like a mouse.
"Olgerd? My friend! Is it really you?"
The electrical tension ceased somewhat. I found I could breathe easier now. Phew. That was close.
"It is... It's me."
"But how on earth-" Tronus sounded genuinely puzzled. "Only a moment ago I was sure I had an intruder in here, an enemy. How is it possible?"
I felt myself shaking again. "An en-enemy?" I remembered the NPCs' distrustful stares in the street.
The sound of footsteps came from the staircase. Tronus was coming down. Had he been talking to me from his study? That was several floors above!
The wizard appeared in the reception hall. "You see, my friend, my tower is packed with all sorts of useful spells which can only be activated using this little crystal," he tapped a fingernail on a small stone dangling from his neck. I had a funny feeling I'd seen it somewhere before.
I nodded my understanding. "A burglar alarm, sort of."
"Burglar alarm?" the wizard rubbed his chin. "What an interesting word combination. I must remember it. You're right, I suppose. When fibers of magic encounter something out of the ordinary, they send a signal to the crystal. It's professional, you know. But why are you sitting on the floor? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, thank you," I said, scrambling back to my feet. "I just got the impression I was about to get an electric shock."
"Get what, excuse me?"
"Eh, how can I say it... struck by lightning, if you wish."
"Aha!" he beamed. "You've no idea how right you are!"
"What do you mean?"
"This room was about to turn into the Hall of a Thousand Lightning Bolts. One of my best traps, you know. Look, you've turned pale again! Come on, Olgerd, pull yourself together. Allow me to help you..."
The wizard hurried toward me, then froze not two steps away. "Wait a bit, my friend. What is it you've got there?"
I glanced at my jacket and shrugged wearily. "It's blood. I've been wounded. According to the healer, the spots should disappear after a few hours."
Judging by the expression on the wizard's face, he hadn't even noticed the blood. He'd meant something else, but what?
"I see..." he finally managed. "Go ahead, tell me. Where did you manage to pick up a Caltean Mark?"
* * *
He tried to reassure me saying it wasn't serious. Things happen. Just some stupid coincidence.
Admittedly, I came slightly unstuck. Too much had happened in one day. No-Man's Lands, the Darkies' camp, the combat and now this Caltean Mark.
I was forced to tell Tronus all about my escapades: where I'd been and what I'd done there. I told him how I'd looted the abandoned mine and trapped the serpent, then set him free later. I told him how I'd helped the Calteans. This "Caltean Mark" was actually their clan's Reputation I'd received. Somehow NPCs seemed to sense its presence. Sense? What was I talking about? They were pieces of program code!
Now I'd have to check the box against Make your Rewards private. Problem was, this would automatically make private all the other little prizes and medals I'd earned. Which wasn't a good thing when you had to deal with local guards and such. I got too used to their friendly attitude — and not only theirs but that of all Mirror World's NPCs. It saved one a lot of time. Opened virtually all doors. And now... never mind. We'd make it.
Tronus talked me into showing him my little menagerie. The sight of Boris made him childishly happy. Admittedly he was impressed by Prankster too. Tronus even allowed me to let them out for a walk any time I wanted. He didn't mind them at all.
I sat there talking to him, feeling greatly relieved. I didn't have to lie or conceal anything from him. Such precious moments had to be relished. I was so happy Mila had given me that letter! Had it not been for her and the Captain, I'd have never met Tronus. And I didn't give a damn about him being a piece of program code.
"Actually," the wizard turned away from Prankster and looked up at me, "you can always remove the Caltean Mark at the Obelisk of Light. If one day you discover it's too much of a liability..."
"The Obelisk of Light?"
"You really don't know?"
I shook my head.
"The more I know you, my friend, the more amazed I am at your... eh..."
"Ignorance?" I offered to the embarrassed wizard.
He grinned. "Heh! I was going to say, your recklessness. But your definition is admittedly more, heh, more encompassing."
I grinned back. "I prefer to call a spade a spade. It makes life easier this way. Living in denial progressively lowers your chances of success."
"Absolutely!" he saluted me with his herbal tea mug.
"Talking about ignorance, I think I resemble one very famous detective."
"Oh! How interesting! Never heard about that! Come on, tell me!" Tronus shifted in his armchair and prepared to listen.
"Very well. This detective had a friend, also a healer and a very educated man who, however, was constantly amazed at his detective friend's professional knowledge. He seemed to know everything about poisons, chemicals and weapons. He was always up to date with current court cases and criminal reports in newspapers. At the same time, he had very little idea of most common facts known to every schoolchild. His healer friend was always surprised at this peculiar trait of the detective's mind. So one day they talked about it..."
"Oh! I'm very curious to hear what the detective told his friend. Even though I think I already know..."
"Simple," I smiled. "This is what he said in a nutshell. Imagine that the human brain is an empty attic. Most people use it to store all sorts of garbage — furniture and stuff. And remarkably, they keep it there all their lives."
"But the detective seems to be more practical," Tronus nodded, laughing. "He only stores what he really needs. How entertaining! Heh! I'm actually a bit like him too! Now I understand what you mean."
"Which is why I try not to overload my brain with useless information either."
"I wish our priests could hear you," Tronus leaned back in his chair. "But I assure you, the Obelisk isn't some useless worldbuilding detail you can easily forget. If we continue your detective friend's analogy, I might agree with him on most accounts — most but not on all. Obelisks play an enormous role in our world."
"Did you say 'obelisks'? Are there other ones?"
"But of course! No one even knows how many of them there are. I only have reliable information on two but I've heard about two more. I think there must be lots of them around."
"How interesting."
"You could say that, my friend. You definitely could say that."
"And these obelisks, what do they do?"
Tronus took a sip of hot tea and began,
"If ancient legends are to be believed, our world was once inhabited by gods. Lots of them. Not the nicest of creatures, I have to admit. Constantly quarreling between themselves, plotting and allying against each other. Not that different from us mortals, if you ask me. These gods were divided into several ranks and classes. Each mortal race had its own patron god in the heavenly pantheon. And it happened one day that these quarrelsome creatures took it too far. They started a war. This is how Mirror World was split up into factions..."
"Of Light and Dark?" I helpfully suggested.
"Not only. There were many of them."
"Oh really?"
"Each god had his or her own followers, temples, statues, sacrificial altars and other religious props. And as you can well imagine, gods are highly selfish creatures with an overblown idea of their own importance, for which reason the number of factions mushroomed with an incredible speed."
"I think I know what happened next."
"Exactly. The divine war couldn't but affect us mortals, each of whom sided up with their own patron god, defending him or her. As a result, war was waged both in heaven and on earth."
"Did they really live in heaven?"
"Not exactly. The gods' world was connected to this one by an enormous portal. Our ancestors used to call it the Mirror of the First God."
"Aha. The Mirror! I thought I'd heard that word before."
"The richest of the countries started wars, throwing the strongest of armies into battles over whose god was better. For several centuries, the mortal world choked on its own blood. Then a new force entered the conflict."
"How interesting," I said.
"I wouldn't even call it new. They were still mortal — but different. Let's put it this way: they were my colleagues."
"I see. Wizards and mages."
"Exactly. Only their powers were ten times greater than mine. I'll tell you more: not every god could take on a mage like those."
I shivered. "I dread to think."
"Hah! So do I."
"And what about this new force?"
"Oh! You had to give them their due. They proved much wiser than gods themselves. In the name of peace keeping, they developed a cunning plan on how to stop the war. Their solution was simple and quite elegant. Assuming that the absence of gods would mechanically stop the war, they decided to destroy the Mirror of the First God."
"Sounds easy enough."
"Easier said than done. I'm not going to bore you with a detailed description of their undoubtedly heroic actions. Let's just say they brought their plans to a successful conclusion."
"And these obelisks, do they have something to do with the portal?"
"Exactly, my dear friend. You're very insightful. The obelisks are nothing other than the fragments of the First Mirror. By breaking the most powerful portal in the history of this world, the wizards were left with a vast number of mirror fragments of various sizes and, simply speaking, various magic hues. With that, the Era of Gods was over. The mirror fragments were dispatched to all the corners of the world, as far from each other as possible — because someone had come up with an appropriate prophesy, as was the habit in those bygone days. Which said that when mirror fragments reunite, the gods will return, furious with the mortals' treachery."
"I see. Funny story. Did you just say you knew of two other obelisks?"
Tronus nodded. "I do. Apart from the two known ones, I heard of two more
: the Azure Obelisk and the Twilight one. The first is supposedly located at the bottom of the Scyllian Ocean. The other is somewhere in No-Man's Lands.
"How interesting," I murmured. "Wonder why they're called so? And what have they got to do with the Powers of Light and Dark?"
"Simple," the wizard replied. "In our world, magic comes in different hues. Our power shimmers with every color of the rainbow. Have you noticed that our races don't differ from those of the Darkies? You really can't tell the difference."
I nodded.
"The only difference between our two sides is the hue of our power. Of our magic, if you like. This is yet another curse: the more we fight, the fewer are the chances of the gods making a comeback. Actually, there're rumors that the ocean dwellers have managed to locate the Azure Obelisk. In which case we might soon hear of the arrival of a new political force on our map."
Oh wow. That was some food for thought.
"That's basically it," Tronus concluded. "And now I'm dying of curiosity to find out how your trip to No-Man's Lands worked out for you. Did you manage to get anything nice?"
"Well, it's a bit too early to-" I stopped mid-word as my gaze alighted on the charm around the wizard's neck. Wait a bit... But of course! This was...
"Olgerd? Are you all right?" Tronus' face betrayed concern.
"I am," I reassured him. "Don't worry. I just thought about our earlier conversation."
He chuckled. "I thought you might."
"Do you remember telling me about some complex No-Man's Lands quests you might have for me?"
His eyebrows rose in surprise.
I was pleased to see his reaction. "Let's see what you say when I tell you how many Crast stones I have in this bag of mine."
Chapter Twenty
I took a day off today. I needed a break.
Apparently, Drammen was bubbling and boiling like the proverbial magic pot. From what I'd heard, it had been the first Darkies' raid in quite a while. Which provoked the arrival in Drammen of not only the expected loot hunters, but also of lots of regular tourists as well.
I had to stop flying for a few days and use portals instead. My mine had become a major tourist attraction. If it didn't stop soon, I'd have to find some other farming location.
The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) Page 23
