A Song of Shadow (The Bard from Barliona Book #2) LitRPG series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  It sounded sensible, but one embarrassing question confused me:

  “To get through the Arras, you need the help of a local. The embassy will be welcomed by our brothers and sisters. Won’t spilling their blood imperil our neutrality as well?”

  For a moment, doubt crossed Astilba’s face—and vanished a second later without a trace.

  “To begin with, we will merely explain to them what our goals are. If we don’t succeed in persuading them, I will temporarily disable them with the help of mighty demons. With a bit of luck none of our brethren will suffer.”

  It all sounded so rosy that I immediately doubted the viability of such a ‘bloodless’ scenario. Things don’t work out that way.

  “I answered your question, Lorelei, and now I would like to receive an answer to my question. Are you going to leave the forest and go into the world of the outsiders?”

  Thinking this over, I absentmindedly tuned up my lute, then replaced it behind my back. What was the right answer? Logically, if I confess my desire to leave, I can say goodbye to any more quests from this powerful NPC. I’d be going to fraternize with the enemy, after all. But at the moment, I had no desire at all to get involved with special quests. My trip to the Gray Lands had completely exhausted me. I wanted to exit Barliona, take a shower, lie on the couch and put my thoughts in order. Or sit down with Pasha in the kitchen and tell him about the Intermundis.

  “Yes, I would like to go wandering.” I’m sure I will regret this honest answer tomorrow, but I don’t have any strength left for diplomacy. “I want to see the other races, hear their songs and tales. I’m interested in seeing the world beyond the Arras.”

  The Sixth’s face suddenly broke into a smile. For a moment, this trifle altered the frigid necromancer: She looked like the biota that I had seen emerge in my vision. But the moment passed and once again I found the morose mistress of the dead standing before me.

  “You really are alike. Perhaps this is a sign...” Astilba said, then looked at me tryingly. “You have little experience and strength, but there is something in you that makes me believe that you will succeed. Tell me, what do you know about Cypro?”

  “About the Tenth?” I asked. What an odd question...“He is the first bard of the biota, a member of the Council, one of the Ten. He was able to summon souls from the Gray Lands, and it was thanks to his songbook that I learned this spell. One day Cypro crossed the Arras and never returned. No one knows what happened to him.”

  “True, although not very accurate. Cypro set out from the forest several times on his voyages, but none of them lasted longer than a hundred years. The Tenth would repeatedly return to our people with new knowledge and songs. He knew how to reconcile us with one another and with ourselves. If Cypro were with us, no doubt the Schism would not have occurred. But he is not here. Following the battle at the Stone Maw, he set out to seek knowledge that would spare our land from further war. It was Cypro who found the ancient spell that made it possible to create the Arras. He helped erect a solid wall around our house. The same wall into which the Council now invites the foe.”

  Bitterness filled Astilba’s voice:

  “A little more than a hundred years ago, Cypro set out on a new journey. The breeze used to bring news of his travels, but one day that connection broke. The Tenth disappeared. The last dispatch from him mentioned some ancient ruins in the Free Lands. I believe that it is there that you should look for Cypro’s tracks. You are a free citizen, Lorelei. Whatever the outcome of our cause, you will survive and you will be able to perform a task for me. I want you to learn the fate of the Tenth and ask him to return to the Hidden Forest. We could use his wisdom.”

  Quest available: In the Footsteps of Cypro. Description: Find the missing member of the Biota Council. His last known whereabouts are some ancient ruins in the Free Lands. Quest type: Class scenario. Reward: Variable. Penalty for failing/refusing the quest: None.

  “I’ll go in search of Cypro as soon as I leave the Hidden Forest,” I replied, accepting the quest.

  A new location has been added to your map.

  “Before he set out on his last voyage,” Astilba went on, “I asked Cypro to leave the eid with me. I longed to study this legendary instrument to understand how it helps summon souls from the Gray Lands. But the Tenth disappeared, and for a while the eid was gathering dust in my vault, waiting for its owner. Now he will help in the search for the Tenth. You will return the eid to Cypro when you find him.” Astilba’s tone was so commanding that it brooked no objections. The next moment her voice faltered slightly: “And in the event that Cypro has perished...the eid will decide whether you are worthy of becoming its new master.”

  With these words, Astilba handed me the familiar green cocoon.

  Quest updated: In the Footsteps of Cypro.

  You have received an item required to complete the quest.

  When my initial elation subsided, I opened the vegetal instrument case and checked the eid’s attributes. Not that they were important to me, since for the sound alone, I would happily deal with negative ones. I was simply curious.

  The Eid. Durability: Unbreakable.

  Description: Created by a great luthier for the first bard of the biota, the eid accumulates vitality flowing through the world and helps its owner sustain summoned souls. While equipped: -50% to HP cost of sustaining summoned souls, +25% to casting speed. The soul of the instrument may be summoned.

  Item type: Quest item.

  Other attributes are hidden and inactive because you are not the true owner of the instrument.

  Uh-huh. So, until I became the legal owner of the eid, some of its capabilities will remain locked. Still, the little there was, was more than enough for me.

  “Now come with me,” Astilba beckoned me with her thorny finger. “We need to make some preparations for Portulac’s summoning.”

  “I will need at least seventy hours to summon another soul,” I warned, secretly hoping that the Sixth would postpone her mysterious preparations and I could finally pop out to meatspace.

  “It does not matter,” the necromancer dashed my dreams. “It takes a long time to prepare a stable channel.”

  “A stable channel?”

  “Follow me and I shall explain everything.”

  The web of underground passages brought us to another cave that was so immense that I couldn’t see its ceiling for the darkness. This cave contained eleven Forest Sentries. These sentries, however, no longer resembled the ones I had encountered in the forest. Five of them were the happy bearers of thorns as well as other marks of Shadow. They were labeled ‘Blighted Forest Sentries (Level 300).’ Another four were undergoing their transformation it seemed. Their bark was slowly but steadily growing darker and sprouting thorns. The last two hadn’t changed at all yet. Standing before them was none other than Geranika.

  Hearing our approach, the Lord of Shadow turned leisurely.

  “Astilba in the company of the young free citizen,” he said pensively. “Why have you brought her?”

  “I need her for some important business,” the Sixth replied.

  “What important business requires a Level 22 free citizen? A bard to boot...You need her to sing a lullaby?” Geranika inquired with a mocking tone, as if he hadn’t just recruited me into his empire the other day. Does he want to keep Astilba from knowing that he is poaching her followers?

  “I’d be happy to sing one for you,” I replied, fixing the Lord of Shadow with a challenging look.

  The Lord of Shadow arched an eyebrow, looked me up and down and said, “My time is valuable, but I can always spare some for such vim and vigor. You have my permission. Only, take note Lorelei—if I don’t like what I hear, you shall pay dearly.”

  I barely heard the last words—the cave filled with the sounds of the Hymn I had just composed. With every passing measure, the expression on Geranika’s face changed more and more: The skepticism gave way to curiosity which in turn gave way to enjoyment. The Lord of Shadow, the
Sixth and the Blighted Sentries seemed to be absorbing power from the music. With the last chord, their eyes flared with a terrible fire, which faded instantly, leaving only a buff that was called ‘Might of Shadow.’

  The renewed silence was disrupted by Geranika’s polite clapping.

  “I must admit that I have underestimated the power of music until now,” he remarked, clapping one last time. “And entirely to my detriment. Tell me, where did you find this hymn that strengthens Shadow beings so much?”

  “I did not find it. I composed it,” I replied.

  “Composed?” Curiosity filled Geranika’s voice. “One weak free citizen created a spell that can nurture my entire host?”

  “Your host?” Astilba asked coldly. “You forget yourself, Geranika. We are your allies, not your host.”

  “I was merely referring to the non-sentient creatures of Shadow,” replied Geranika without a trace of embarrassment. “With a hymn like that, I can increase my faction’s strength by orders of magnitude. I am impressed, Lorelei.”

  Quest complete: Impress the Lord of Shadow.

  Speak to Geranika to receive the next quest in the chain.

  “Perhaps my new empire could use such artful minstrels,” the future emperor smiled graciously. “What do you say, Lorelei?”

  “This is a very gracious offer, Emperor,” I bowed my head reverently, “but before I agree, I would like to find out about my future duties? As you so accurately mentioned earlier, my powers are all too insignificant. Moreover, I have not yet discharged my duties to Astilba.”

  The Sixth nodded approvingly, while a system notification informed me that my Charisma had grown.

  Geranika seemed disappointed, so I found the hymn’s score in my inventory and offered it to him:

  “I wish to present you with this songbook. Even if I am unprepared to join you right this instant, perhaps you can teach one of your other minstrels my creation.”

  Your reputation status with the Lord of Shadow has changed. New status: Friendship.

  Geranika carefully accepted the scroll, examined it for a little while and then looked up at me and shook his head:

  “I never thought that I would receive a present from a free citizen of Barliona. And such a valuable present at that. In exchange, accept this gift from me as a sign of my gratitude and a symbol of my protection, which you shall acquire once you become one of my minstrels.”

  Geranika has taught you a new spell: Shadow Shield.

  Shadow Shield: You allow a piece of the surrounding world to enter you and summon materia shades to protect you from incoming damage. The Shades follow in the Bard’s footsteps and intercept incoming damage. Damage absorbed by each Shade: (Intellect × 10). After absorbing its maximum level of damage, the Shade vanishes. If an undamaged materia shade receives damage in excess of its maximum absorption level, excess damage is channeled into the interior world. Maximum number of materia shades: (Composition + 1). Casting time: 5 seconds. Casting cost: (Character Level × 10) MP. Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  Geranika’s present exceeded all expectations. I was already seriously considering joining his band of minstrels and now I had no further doubts. I would be close to the central character of the latest expansion, and I would have the chance of recording video and songs. And that’s saying nothing of spells like this. That’s it, then. As soon as I complete the Sixth’s scenario, I’ll sign up with Geranika.

  “New wisdoms are a bard’s greatest reward, Emperor,” I bowed my head respectfully. “I thank you.”

  “Emperor...I like the ring of that. We shall speak anon, Lorelei. Let us return to our business for the moment. Astilba, I will introduce particles of Shadow into these sentries, but you know very well that that will not be enough. The Kartossians are planning their invasion. They will bring free citizens with them. Free citizens who are very strong and quite merciless. They will deal with the blighted sentries and then turn on your brothers and sisters. We must bring the local Guardian over to Shadow too. That will guarantee our victory over the embassy’s guards and...”

  “No!” the Sixth angrily cut off Geranika’s speech. “The Hidden Forest needs its Guardian. The Forest Sentries are mere forest golems who lack mind and reason. A Guardian is an ancient and wise being. He was created by Sylvyn at the same time as the Tree. Neither the biota nor the pirqs would dare harm their Guardian. He shall be fettered by the power of your shadows precisely until the point that we destroy the Kartossian embassy. After that, he shall be freed and all the renegades shall surrender themselves to be tried by the Council and the Guardian.”

  “You do understand that they’ll simply execute you, right?” I couldn’t figure out what lurked behind Geranika’s look, but there was more than simple curiosity in his eyes. It seemed that he really wanted to understand.

  “Such is our choice,” the Sixth replied stoically.

  “Well, if you change your mind, I am at your service,” Geranika reminded and approached the uncorrupted sentries. A thick, coiling fog began to pour from his hands, crawling like living snakes toward the suddenly agitated wooden giants. The fog curled around the giants, seeping into their eyes and under their bark, causing it to grow dim and darken.

  The Sixth’s voice tore me away from this horrid spectacle.

  “Approach me and stand there, Lorelei,” she commanded, indicating a small but complicated etching on the floor. I did not have the energy to examine this new image. With every passing moment I just wanted to go back to meatspace, so I took up my position and watched the unfolding ritual wearily and in silence. A purple glow enveloped both me and the blighted sentries. Fibrous tendrils began to flash and fade between us, but the details of the entire spectacle escaped my exhausted mind—I had resumed my recording upon our return from the Intermundis, so I could always watch all this some other time.

  As soon as several permanent effects called ‘Binding Seal’ had appeared on my character (the Sixth only needed me long enough for the seals to stabilize), I pushed the exit button.

  THE LIVING ROOM and kitchen were empty. The monotonous hum of a running capsule sounded from Pasha’s room, second only to the hum in my head. This was the right time to do something productive and rest my overtaxed mind.

  I spent the next hour actively justifying my presence in someone else’s house—I kicked the domestic appliances into work mode. The custodial bot beeped its outrage at such barbaric treatment, but went about its business cleaning the place. I stuffed the washing machine with my dirty laundry, inspected the fridge, ordered some produce and programmed the autocook with the upcoming meals. It’s nice to live in a technologically advanced age in which rote domestic labor is reduced to a minimum.

  Doing my chores allowed my thoughts to clear up and I was already entirely lucid when I started making tea. With that said, my lucid mind was occupied with trifles instead of Barliona. I was contemplating why Pasha was so categorically opposed to disposable tea bags and automatic services when making the most ordinary cup of tea, even as I watched the agile cleaning robot rush about its work. It was just stretching out a thin, flexible manipulator with a tube on its end to clean the odd dust motes and cobwebs from the ceiling. There must have been some error in its cleaning script, since even now it skirted the corner behind the curtain, the one with the web. Judging by the fat, happy spider in the middle of the web, this error was a recurring one and the rude arachnid had moved in permanently. What a mess...

  “To hell with you, descendent of the Tarantula Lords,” I swore at the unassuming spider and looked around for something to make good on my threat with.

  I didn’t feel like messing around with someone’s imitator, and all I really had to do was slap it with a towel and no more, so I decided to deal with the spider in the old fashioned way. I twisted the towel into a tight spiral and clambered up on a footstool when I heard Pasha’s roar behind me:

  “Stop right there! Leave Sarge alone!” Having instantly forgotten all his traumas, the pilot rushed past me a
s quickly and noisily as his beloved chopper. “Sarge, you poor fellow...” He began rummaging amid some model boxes on the windowsill and produced a jar with a still living fly that had had its wings plucked off. Fishing out the insect, Pasha tossed it onto the cobweb and stepped back, observing the suddenly alert spider rush onto its breakfast. “Sarge is off limits,” the pilot warned me curtly.

  “I have two questions,” I said, my shock dispersing. I got down from the stool and looked closely at my friend. “‘How?’ and ‘What the hell for?’”

  “What exactly?” asked my friend, casting the spider a loving look.

  “How did you catch the fly in your condition and what the hell do you need a spider for?”

  “Why would someone catch a fly?” Pasha asked a little taken aback. “You just pour a couple drops of sweet tea in the jar and they show up on their own. Once they’re in there, it’s a question of technique. And Sarge, well, he’s company.”

  “Mmm...yeah...” I had to admit. “Snegov and I are really slacking in our duties.”

  “Oh he showed up before you guys,” Pasha jumped to defend his pet. “I had barely started to hobble back then. I couldn’t even throw anything at the jerks singing Goldentown under my window.”

  “Well, I guess if he was here first...” I squinted at the spider. He seemed haughty and impudent, as if he was well aware that he enjoyed the landlord’s protection. “By the way, I have never heard your infamous street singers. Am I to assume you finally threw something hefty at them?”