by Hugo Huesca
Ed was torn. Sure, the appeal of that kind of power was obvious. But the brutality… and the Wraith Lord didn’t seem to possess a human mind or emotion anymore; he didn’t even appear to be aware he had been fighting those adventurers. He simply soared through those empty stone halls, cold and alone, killing everyone who dared invade, as the centuries passed by.
How is that a victory? Ed thought. Whatever the Wraith Lord was, it wasn’t Edward Wright.
Korghiran set the card away and selected the second one. “Ah, another promising branch. It seems that you’re an ambitious fellow, Dungeon Lord. The ancients would’ve approved… before their own ambitions led to their downfall. But never mind that. This card is my favorite so far. The Unearthly Tyrant.”
The man in the card donned a suit of black plate armor that covered him head to toe. Ed recognized the design as his own, albeit heavily upgraded. Gemstones as big as a fist were engraved in the chest plate and helmet, rubies and emeralds glinting over the polished sheen of the steel. His black coat was fit for a king, made with the pelts of mythical beasts and sewn with arcane silver patterns. The sword at his waist could’ve slain a giant, it was impossibly heavy and imposing, but the enchantments in future Ed’s armor seemed to be able to handle the weight with ease.
This branch’s Ed sat on a regal throne near an open window that showed a view of a city down below and a distant mountain pass beyond it. A castle, then, instead of a dungeon. And the throne room wasn’t empty, but filled with sycophants and nobles dressed in rich garments. Some faces seemed vaguely familiar. Ed saw a few Akathunians in the crowd, as well as a minotaur with a web of blue tattoos covering his body. He spotted demons with purple or red hides and long, leathery wings, and vampires wearing white silk stained with crusty blood. There were Necromancers in their black tunics, as well as naga witches, and giant balloon-like monsters that floated lazily among the throne room. Kaftar guards protected future Ed’s flanks, and a pair of old Wizards whispered advice in his ear.
“In this branch, you play smarter against your enemies. Instead of pursuing revenge and sheer destructive power, you become a political figurehead. With a little help from the Netherworld and a little training, you learn how to use your pact magic—the most dangerous tool of a Dungeon Lord—to subvert the ruling class of Starevos. Instead of relying on dungeons and a few minions against the Heroes, you throw armies at them, bankrolled by Lotian coffers. After expelling the Militant Church from Starevos, it’s the natural next step to take the throne. To maintain your power-base and popular support, you surround yourself with expert minions from Lotia and the Netherworld, and they teach you many things. And power comes with its own rewards. Observe. Here is the Unearthly Tyrant partaking of the spoils of the most recent war against his neighbors.”
The scene changed, and an open vault with a shallow pool at its center replaced the throne room. The air was vaporous, like in a spa, with an exotic garden surrounding the pool. Silk drapes hung from ropes in rows all over the room and swayed with the breeze. Women danced between the drapes, their skins gently caressing the silk, their naked feet skirting over the paved floor. There were dozens of them, dressed only in their jewelry and scant garments that left nothing to the imagination. Long, thin golden chains shackled their necks and ankles.
Ed saw himself relaxing in the pool while young women massaged his shoulders and fed him fruit from clay bowls. This older Ed was pale and thin, with trimmed long hair and a goatee. He seemed to enjoy himself.
The real Ed couldn’t take his gaze away from those golden chains. The smiles across the girls’ faces was obviously forced, but the Tyrant seemed not to notice or care.
What the hell is he doing? Ed thought.
“You don’t look so happy, Dungeon Lord,” Korghiran said. “It’s a bit late to pretend you’re one of those chaste Heiligian heroes that your Bard loves to harp about, don’t you think?
“Perhaps, at first, the Unearthly Tyrant had his reservations—just like you do. But armies need their supply lines. Akathunian slavers provided an inexpensive option, freeing your treasury for important uses like paying your minions and maintaining your power-base, or to keep the Starevosi from starving. Isn’t that more important than what happens to a few slaves? Most of them are enemy soldiers, anyway. Without slaves, your kingdom would crumble, and thousands would perish. The women in your harem have it the best, really. They’re pampered and cared after by your servants so they may serve you well in turn. Would you rather they take their chances on the streets below your palace? I bet they’d rather be a Tyrant’s concubine than a sailor’s whore, wouldn’t you agree?”
Korghiran laughed, and Ed’s blood boiled in his veins. That was one future that would never come to pass. The Shadow Tarot and Korghiran could go stick that card wherever it fit them best.
“Don’t worry, Dungeon Lord. Your Netherworld minions will make you see reason, I’m sure,” Korghiran said, amusement dancing in her expression. “One last future, will you? And then you’re free to go. Let’s take a look. Oh. What do we have here…”
The last card showed Ed in his Haunt, surrounded by his friends. Kes and Lavy, Alder and Klek, and many others. There were no golden chains anywhere in sight. They looked happy and healthy. Older. Ed didn’t need to look at their character sheets to know that everyone there had at least a thousand experience points under their belts, and they were loaded with magical gear and artifacts of power.
It was the first of the futures that hadn’t ended up worrying Ed. This seemed to displease Korghiran, who waved her hands over the card a couple of times until the scene changed.
Future Ed was sitting in a strange dungeon room loaded with bulky metal devices and glass screens hanging from the ceiling.
It can’t be, Ed thought. Computers. Those things were crude computers. He saw vacuum tubes crackling with magical energy and electricity, bulbs transmuting themselves in different shapes as they processed data, long copper cables transmitting spells in and out of the room while the glass monitors displayed vast arrays of information and commands.
Two others were in the computer room along with future Ed. The first one was a short, muscular man with strong shoulders and a light blond beard. He manned one steel and wood keyboard with a bit of difficulty.
Gallio, Ed thought. What was he doing in the middle of a dungeon? The Inquisitor didn’t appear a captive. He was smiling and joking around with Ed and the third person in the room. This other man was a scrawny red-head with bad posture that sat cross-legged in his chair as his fingers flew along his own keyboard. He was dressed in a silk white shirt and black trousers, all in the style of Earth. He even had crude glasses.
Ed had never seen him before, but something about the red-head was vaguely familiar—although thinking too hard about it made Ed dizzy.
Future Ed pushed a switch and a sub-routine activated. The card changed views several times to show the cables crackling with magical energy through several internal tunnels until they arrived at a colossal open chamber with a tower at its center, raising past the ceiling and into the night sky. The tower activated and came to life, engines roaring and wheels turning. A crystal at its top lit up, as well as several interlocking magical circles on the floor and walls. Several glass coffins surrounding the tower powered on a series of runes drawn across their surface, and the surrounding air became oily and wavy.
“This is something that you don’t see every day,” Korghiran said. She tapped on the card with disapproval. “If most Demon Regents saw you working with an Inquisitor, even as just a possible future, they’d slay you where you stand. Although I admit, I’m curious. It’s a terrible habit of mine. So let’s dig deeper.”
Back in the vision, the scene changed again with dizzying speed, until it settled on an entirely new place. A small dungeon was carved into the face of a mountain, decorated in a foreign manner that Ed didn’t recognize. A Dungeon Lord with blazing red eyes sat in his Throne Room and dared a group of adventurers to move f
orward. The adventurers advanced, faces grim and weapons drawn, right as several Heroes dressed in black and white teleported to the middle of the room.
The Heroes attacked minions and adventurers alike with inhuman efficiency. Ed realized they were disabling everyone in the room without killing them. A few Heroes fell to traps or spells, but the instant they were downed they teleported away, and fresh reinforcements took their place. In a few seconds, they’d taken captive both the adventurers and the Dungeon Lord, shackled them with anti-spellcasting handcuffs, and Portaled out, leaving only a few very stunned and roughed-up minions, who stared dumbfounded at the space the Heroes had just vacated.
Ed realized he was just as dumbfounded as those minions.
The scene returned to future Ed’s computer room, where he was celebrating with the other two.
In this future, Ed realized, there was no Inquisition. Not only had he defeated it, he’d replaced their cruel version of the Heroes with a new and improved one, using knowledge from both Earth and Ivalis. These new Heroes could stop any attack on the Haunt without risking the lives of anyone, and they could secure the Haunt’s territories against any foe. They’d make the other Dungeon Lords—even the Militant Church—play nice.
They could bring peace.
He could bring peace to Ivalis. Not only could he side-step Murmur’s wager, but destroy it. There was a chance, no matter how small it was, that Ed could achieve a decisive win against the Dark and the Light. This card was proof of it.
Korghiran snapped the card from the table and returned it to the Shadow Tarot. “We’ve seen enough for one vision, Lord Wraith. Before I return you to the material plane, let me give you a word of caution. Gazing into the future is dangerous. Striving too hard for a vision to come true may prevent it from happening altogether. It may fail anyway. You could fall down a flight of stairs tomorrow and die, and then all your cards would come up blank.”
She waved him away, and Ed stood up at once. Even then, although he couldn’t speak, she seemed to sense the question in his mind.
Why are you showing me all this?
“Because the best way to achieve a future you desire is to ally yourself with powerful friends,” Korghiran told him with a sweet little smile. Behind her, the pyramid of cushions stirred, and she stood a few inches above the table. “And there’s no friendship better for a Dungeon Lord than that of a Regent of the Netherworld.”
She rose well past the height of a normal human being. The cushions rolled out as if the chamber was quaking, to reveal a sinuous serpent torso that extended for meters and meters until it fused seamlessly with Korghiran’s waist. “Come to me, Dungeon Lord Wraith. Come to the Netherworld and ask for an audience with the Lady of Secrets. We’ll see about forging a future that satisfies us both.”
And with that, Ed was dragged away from the towering naga and back into his own body.
18
Chapter Eighteen
Boundaries
“That’s one hell of a vision,” Alder said once Ed finished telling his story.
He’d awakened in the real world a few hours before, his body already tingling with the power of his improved spellcasting. But before he’d ever chosen his two new spells, he’d called for his friends and gathered them into the War Room.
“You’re telling me,” Ed said. He was too excited to sit down, so he paced around the room like a threatened animal. “Was it even real?” he asked.
Lavy took a deep, steadying breath and threw a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. “Did you know of the Demon Regent Korghiran? Perhaps you heard about her and it influenced the vision.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
“In that case… she’s real, I can at least tell you that. I’ve only heard about her in passing, but the naga spellcasters in Kael’s dungeon worshiped her something fierce. They call her the Lady of Secrets because, well, she hoards them. She rewards those that tell her something she doesn’t know, and the reward grows with the information’s value. Her Warlocks are nosy assholes, for obvious reasons—Illusionists and Diviners, mostly. Chasan didn’t like them—they always tried to steal his spell formulas.”
“So, it happened,” Ed said, scratching his chin.
“Not necessarily,” Alder pointed out. “Visions can be tricky like that. They may show you things that are only partially correct--if that makes any sense. Hell, this vision where you saw your futures may have itself been a vision of a possible future, and that was why you couldn’t speak or move.”
Klek clutched his head. “This is making me dizzy.”
“Same,” Ed said. “It seems the only way to make sure is to go into the Netherworld and ask this Demon lady herself.”
Kes frowned. “I don’t like it. It’s an obvious set-up. She showed you several futures, but only one good one. All others are dung-on-a-pie. Wraith Lord? Unearthly Tyrant? There’s no way you’re heading down either of those paths, Ed, not with us around.”
Alder gave her a nervous smile. “Alita’s tits, Kes, you don’t tempt fate like that.”
“I’ve seen too many friends with a bright future ahead of them get split in half by a minotaur’s axe for me to give a flying fuck about fate’s designs,” Kes said sharply. She bit her lip and made a visible effort to calm down. “What I mean to say is… Korghiran wants to manipulate you, Ed. She wants you to come to her for help so you can get those kemputers of yours, but she’ll use you to forge whatever future she wants instead.”
Ed’s jaw was clenched shut so hard he was getting a headache. He hadn’t told his friends about the most unsavory details regarding the Wraith Lord or the Tyrant.
And why should I? They’ll never happen, I’ll make sure of it. And now I’m forewarned. Hadn’t Korghiran said that the Shadow Tarot only showed the path his current and past decisions had set up for him? That meant he only had to make choices that led him to that third good future. The only future that counts is the one I’ll create.
The alternative was just too terrifying to contemplate.
“Mortals can be so melodramatic sometimes,” a voice said amusedly, her words echoing as if coming from a great distance.
Ed’s hand automatically grabbed his sword’s handle and pulled an inch of steel out of its scabbard as he turned around toward the source of the sound. Klek and Kes did the same with their own weapons while Alder and Lavy jumped in their seats and stared in alarm at the purplish mist that seeped into the room through the crack of the door.
The mist laughed and coalesced into a small human frame. Locks of hair so blond it was almost white appeared from the mist, followed by a burial dress, and a pair of long fangs like daggers. “Seriously, look at you,” Jarlen said. “All grim and concerned about a bit of friendly Netherworldly politics.”
“Nightshade. What do you want?” Kes asked, her hand still resting on her sword. “I don’t recall you being invited to our meetings.”
“I’m Dungeon Lord Wraith’s most powerful minion,” Jarlen said matter-of-factly. “Of course I should be here. If a batblin can attend… But never mind that. I was merely looking for Lord Wraith to inform him the materials are ready to create the Haunt’s first Portal. It was a good thing I overheard your conversation, though, before a bunch of clueless mortals could confuse my Dungeon Lord about the way the world really works.”
Lavy sniffed in indignation. “What the hell do you mean?” Her fingers twitched in the way they always did while she was preparing to cast a spell.
“Lavy,” Ed warned her. The Witch lowered her arms, but didn’t relax.
“Of course Regent Korghiran wishes to use you,” Jarlen explained, ignoring Lavy as if she wasn’t there. “She’s a Regent, you’re a Dungeon Lord. She uses you, you use her. It’s just like in politics, or mating. Where did you think Dungeon Lords get their most powerful minions, from a board in a tavern? No. You go to the Netherworld, vie to earn the interest of a Regent, and find if there’s something they desire that you can give them. In turn
, they’ll grant you minions and magical gear. It’s not complicated.”
“That’s one ugly worldview, Jarlen,” Alder told her, shaking his head.
“I see it how it is,” Jarlen replied. “You’ve an advantage, Lord Wraith. Korghiran came to you, so that means you have something she wants. Use it. If you play your hand right, that’s a golden chance to improve your standing that many other Dungeon Lords would kill for. For starters, you may find a sponsor willing to fix your weakness to Holy magic, in exchange for only one small, tiny favor.”
Ed tapped his forehead with his finger. She was making one hell of a good argument. Too good, almost. But if she had some ulterior motive, wouldn’t the minionship pact protect him from it?
“You care a lot about Lord Ed’s trip to this Demon Lady,” Klek said, voicing Ed’s own concerns. “Why?”
Jarlen smiled. “Because if our Dungeon Lord thrives, I thrive. The way to succeed is to ally yourself to a powerful being, and there are few more powerful than Regent Korghiran. Perhaps your ambitions cloud your judgment, Lord Wraith. If you think you can score a better sponsor… there are ways. When the other Regents find out the Lady of Secrets is interested in you, they’ll want to uncover why. Information is power, after all. You can use this, if you don’t mind pissing off an insanely powerful demigod.”
“I’m trying not to make a habit out of that,” Ed said.
“So you don’t deny it, vampire,” Lavy said. “You want to use Ed so he can improve your lot for you.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing, Head Researcher?” Jarlen asked mockingly, only now acknowledging Lavy’s presence. “I can only fathom what a dungeon digger with basic spellcasting had to do to get into a prominent position in Lord Wraith’s court.”
The tension in the room turned sharp. Ed could see Lavy’s cheeks turning a bright pink as she stammered her way through a retort.
Ed didn’t need Alder’s Charm to know that Jarlen had found a sore point in Lavy’s self-esteem and jabbed at it. A long time ago, Ed and Lavy had shared a bed. It had only happened once, during a time when the both were emotionally vulnerable and wondering if they’d live through the week. After that, they’d decided they worked better as friends.
