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

by Vasily Mahanenko

  Almost all the players who accompanied the embassy bore the guild sigil of the Dark Legion, but about half a dozen were freelancers or members of guilds I did not know. The embassy consisted of a Level 450 Master and four Level 400 Magisters.

  But everyone paled next to the First. The Level 500 head of the Council dazzled with her exotic beauty. The tender green of her epidermis was emphasized by the amaranth petals of her vestments. The druid held a living branch that glowed faintly in her hand, and Nigella’s gaze bore the age-old wisdom of the forest itself.

  The Seventh stood like a somber shadow on her left, while on her right stood the Third—Fresia the Paladin of Sylvyn. The Third did not look menacing in the least but I remembered how, in one of my visions of the past battles, this seemingly delicate biota mercilessly slew enemies with her faithful sword.

  Off to the side, the pirq chiefs loomed amid their guards. Clad in heavy armor, reddish-colored Speleus clutched a two-handed flame-bladed sword in his paws and glowered at the outsiders. A golden-colored pirq named Conquolor propped up a tree with his shoulder, cradling in his paws an intimidating device, similar to a hefty gun with a thick barrel which bristled with six arrowheads. All of the pirq’s gear gleamed with gold and his thick mane reminded me of a character from my childhood reading—he looked none other than Aslan himself.

  There was neither hatred nor anger in the parties’ eyes—only confusion and surprise and the bitter sympathy for the renegades from the unblighted creatures. Yet the outsiders from beyond the Arras all squinted with suspicion.

  The former allies, members of the Council, were now standing in silence opposite each other. Suddenly the renegades’ ranks parted and the Fifth stepped forward. The heretofore imperturbable eyes of the First grew wide; the Seventh shook his head in amazement; the Third mumbled some kind of oath and ran her hand over her eyes. Portulac took a few steps forward and knelt before the First.

  “We are the fruits of one Tree,” he said softly. Nigella, hesitated, but then laid a hand on his shoulder:

  “One Branch, one duty, one fate.”

  She gestured for the Fifth to stand up and then warmly embraced her old friend.

  “I cannot believe you are really alive, Portulac. I do not understand the power that fills your body. But I am happy to see you again, brother.”

  “It was a dark hour when I went to the Gray Lands and it is in a dark hour that I have returned,” said the Fifth sadly. “I do not know much of what happened in my absence, but I know one thing for sure—our unity is our strength. There can be no schism between us.”

  “It was not I who opposed the will of the Council,” said the First after a heavy silence. “It was not I who left the Tree, leading away a part of our people. It was not I who ushered the blight into our forest.”

  “But it was you who allowed the outsiders in!” the Sixth yelled, her voice brimming with the pain of her sister’s betrayal.

  “So ruled the Council,” the First reminded her.

  “The Council was wrong!” Kodiak roared fiercely. The pirq of Shadow stepped forward, his fur bristling. “The outsiders wish to use us in their war. After that they will destroy what is left of us and seize the forest!”

  “It was not the outsiders who abandoned our Father Sylvyn,” Fresia spoke up. The paladin’s eyes sparkled with righteous anger. “No outsiders brought blight to our lands, sowed it!”

  “We accepted the help of Shadow only to protect the forest!” the Second objected angrily.

  “Shadow does not help anyone,” the Master of Kartoss did not raise his voice, but everyone heard him. It turned out that the ambassador was fluent in the languages of the Hidden Forest. “Everything that Geranika does, he does only for his own benefit. Kartoss knows this from its own bitter experience.”

  “You were not permitted to speak, outsider!” There was enough hatred in the Sixth’s voice to speak for the entire army of the forest.

  “He is our guest and has come to speak to us,” Speleus growled. He approached the First and stopped behind her. “The better question is why you’re here. You were the one who left the Council, split our people and desecrated our forest.”

  Astilba’s eyes narrowed angrily, Kodiak’s fur bristled, but Portulac raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

  “We have all been wrong about something or other,” he said, stepping between the sides. “But this does not mean that the Schism should continue. We too have come to talk. The time has come to reunite the Council and find the right solution together. To correct the mistakes that have already been made and prevent those that await us ahead.”

  “An alliance with Shadow is out of the question!” the Kartossian ambassador said harshly, but was stopped by an imperious gesture from the First. Her gaze wandered over the faces of the former members of the Council.

  “We are not discussing an alliance with Shadow,” she said. “We are discussing the reunification of our family and the resolution of past mistakes. Am I correct?”

  “Yes, oh First,” Portulac tilted his head.

  After a pause, the rest of the renegades repeated his gesture.

  “But they are Shadow!” exclaimed the Master and the Kartossians behind him mumbled their agreement. “No minion of Geranika may be trusted! They will betray us!”

  “Shall I list to you how many times your people have invaded our forest, Ambassador?” asked the First, quietly but with a perceptible threat in her voice, turning to the outsiders. “Shall I recount to you how much grief and suffering you brought us? Do you need me to explain to you why my brothers and sisters have so little faith in this alliance?”

  Unable to maintain Nigella’s gaze, the Master of Kartoss looked away.

  “The Council split as a result of the distrust and the gravity of what we suffered in the past,” she continued sadly. “None of us was wise enough to maintain our unity. It is time to learn to forgive the wounds of the past and create a new future together. A better future.”

  She looked over the renegades and solemnly proclaimed:

  “I hereby restore the Council and offer clemency to all those who left us. Together we will go to the Guardian, we will call on Sylvyn and find a way to mend what has been done and expel the blight and the Shadow from our lands. Perhaps not today or tomorrow, but you will be able to return to the Tree and to the Lair once again!”

  Jubilant exclamations filled the forest and then all the biota and all the pirqs present knelt before the reunited Council. Yielding to the solemnity of the moment, I too knelt down and bowed my head respectfully.

  And doing so—missed Geranika’s entrance.

  “Why wasn’t I invited for the reunion party?” came the familiar voice of the Lord of Shadow.

  Looking up I saw him standing beneath a blighted oak near the renegades. Seeing him, all present jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons.

  “Because you betrayed us!” roared Kodiak loudly and rushed at Geranika clearly intending to tear him to pieces.

  Geranika lazily raised his hand and the mighty pirq stopped as if he had encountered an invisible wall.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is this any way to speak with the Lord of Shadow after you have accepted Shadow into yourself and become one of my minions?”

  He snapped his fingers and I felt like I was losing power over my own body. Beside me, Vex’s eyes filled with fog and his body jerked several times, like a puppet in the hands of a novice puppeteer.

  Scenario event: Geranika the Lord of Shadow has taken control of your avatar temporarily.

  Obeying his will, my avatar turned to the Lord of Shadow and knelt before him. The renegades around me did the same thing, and only at the edge of my vision, could I see the Second and the Sixth, with visible effort struggling to keep their feet. Gradually, the fog trickled into their eyes.

  “The trouble with you spawn of Sylvyn,” complained Geranika, “is that your bodies cannot fully merge with Shadow. Fortunately, there are others who do not suffer from this ma
lady.”

  Another lazy wave of the hand and Kodiak and the Fifth approached the renegade leaders and shoved them to their knees.

  “Release our brethren this instant, shaman!” the First’s angry voice resounded throughout the forest and was reflected from the mountains.

  “Or what?” asked Geranika with genuine interest.

  “We will destroy you even at the cost of our lives,” Fresia replied, drawing her sword.

  “You can try,” Geranika chuckled merrily. “Kill anyone who is not Shadow!”

  The army of Shadow rose harmoniously to its feet, turned to its brethren, unsheathed its arms and took one mutual, thundering step forward.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Shadow had transformed the renegades. Hundreds of blighted biota turned their empty, expressionless faces to face their kindred. The eyes, veiled with the magic fog, were like tears in the very fabric of Barliona. Punctures through which you could see the alien inside of the world.

  Meanwhile, the pirqs of Shadow not only remained as ferocious as they had been—they grew even more so. Savage anger filled their scowling faces as saliva dripped from their exposed fangs. Now more than ever they resembled wild beasts, no longer sentient creatures.

  The renegades remained silent. For now, they remained silent.

  Like a tide, Geranika’s newly-minted minions moved to attack, reorganizing themselves into battle formations as they marched. The renegades’ bodies streamed with fog as if it was their blood, the mist from them settling on the tormented, blighted ground. For a moment it seemed to me that I was knee-deep in their blood. The blood of the forest itself.

  But even more frightening was the silence of it all. There were no commanders shouting orders, not a single word was spoken. The fog muffled the sounds of footsteps and the clatter of armor, which gave the whole scene a dreamy quality. Even the forest went quiet as if it were holding its breath, waiting for the outcome.

  The oppressive silence was interrupted by music. Dark, full of unspeakable power, it seemed to seep under the skin, causing the body to tremble in anticipation of the battle. It was only by accident, glancing down at my hands, that I realized where the music was coming from. My fingers moved against my will, forcing me to perform an unfamiliar composition and cast the Song of Encouragement. The small hillock, atop which my unruly legs carried me, stood as an island amidst the living current of the army of Shadow.

  Stepping out to the clearing, the archers, mages and healers fanned out into a single rank with the formidable columns of the heavily armored pirqs following in their wake. The sight reminded me of a flood when a river overflowed its banks and flooded the lowlands, forcing people to climb higher and higher to escape from the inexorably rising water.

  The enemy did not wait with folded arms. The forest’s defenders began to maneuver to meet the threat: groups of warriors congealed around their leaders, forming a battle formation and retreating orderly from the edge of the blighted ground.

  “Master, retreat to the Arras!” the amplified voice of a player named Evolett made me wince in surprise. He seemed alien, out of place amid this solemn tide of inexorable death. “Beyond the Arras, you will be able to teleport to the Nameless City. The Dark Legion will buy you time!”

  “We will not leave, Evolett,” the Master of Kartoss sounded strange, his voice trembling with growling notes. The hood thrown over the ambassador’s head did not allow me to discern his face. “An alliance is not mere ink on a parchment. An alliance is an oath. Kartoss will perform its duty, even if its words have not been written down. Geranika shall not conquer the Hidden Forest!”

  The eyes of the First and the Master of the Dark Empire met for an instant, silently ratifying the new alliance. Fresia and the pirq chiefs briefly saluted with their weapons, joining the covenant.

  This was like a signal: Both groups opposed to Shadow, who had previously stood in separate columns, moved towards each other until they merged and formed a united front of bristling steel.

  “Geranika is the enemy,” the First said to her new allies. “Our brethren have been stupefied. They must be stopped, not killed.”

  The players grumbled, and their leader asked bluntly:

  “And if we have no choice?”“

  “You have answered your own question, Evolett. The Hidden Forest shall not fall to Shadow!”

  The minions of Shadow meanwhile were not concerned with having to murder their kindred. To the hum of twanging strings, the air filled with bolts and arrows hurling from the bows and crossbows as from the wings of death. They were echoed by the roar of numerous magical missiles and the full-throated roar of the pirqs of Shadow rising to the sky.

  But now a wall of flame flared between the two armies and incinerated most of the incoming arrows and ice missiles. And those spells that did reach the ranks of the allies broke powerlessly against a magic shield conjured by the magisters of Kartoss. The enchanted flame destroyed the flying arrows and spells, harming neither the grass nor the trees growing nearby.

  The blighted biota parted silently, unleashing an irrepressible torrent of Shadow pirqs. The beast-like figures rolled like an avalanche onto the wall of flame, without the slightest fear of fire. A moment before they leaped through the inferno, the furry figures faded a little, as if a shadow had covered them. Protected by a temporary invulnerability to the element, the pirqs painlessly passed through the fiery barrier. The magical traps that the Kartossians managed to set up flashed and vanished. A roaring, scowling wave of Shadow pirqs crashed against the allied tanks.

  My throat contorted with pain. I—as well as all the blighted biota casters around me—doubled over in a severe fit of coughing. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied the figure of a biota rogue hurling a flask of bubbling liquid at the detachment next to mine. The barely noticeable mist from the fragments made the next group of healers fall into a fit of coughing.

  You have been exposed to a choking cloud. You are unable to make sounds and cast spells until you leave the suffocating cloud.

  It was not immediately possible to get out of the affected area. The Seventh’s rogues were popping up here and there, tossing flagons of chemicals into our ranks. The Seventh and his adepts knocked out most of the mages of Shadow, but there seemed to be no concern about this turn of events. With the dull indifference of brainless homunculi, the blighted biota simply wandered in search of places free from poison. The only problem was that it wasn’t much easier in the places with fresh air. The coughing fit did not let up, and the system blessed me with a debuff that maintained the effects of asphyxiation for five minutes. And then, without my participation, I cast the only spell that was not covered by the debuff: Summon Instrument Soul.

  Eid’s ghostly figure appeared next to me. The instrument’s soul looked neither surprised nor confused, which suggested that even when he wasn’t summoned, he could observe what was happening to me. Having assessed the situation, Eid pushed me into the nearest poisoned cloud, and then did the same with all the nearby renegade mages, renewing the debuff. He was in no hurry to kill the biota controlled by Geranika. And, given his low level and specialization, doing so would probably be a bit complicated. The renegades did not try to kill Eid either. They looked on with their eerie, fogged-over eyes and dutifully waited for their ability to conjure to return to them. Whatever way Geranika ruled the blighted biota, it all seemed careless and very predictable. All of the rogues that he sent against the enemy’s rear became ensnared in numerous traps, prudently placed there by a roving band of healers and mages.

  The Shadow pirqs however were another matter. They had been deprived of free will and the spark of Sylvyn, but not of reason. The pirqs of Shadow jumped deftly over the pits that opened beneath them, clambered over the ranks of the tanks and smashed into the soft archers, mages and healers behind them. For a moment it seemed to me that the avalanche of shaggy bodies would crack the allies’ defenses, but the forest itself, heeding the summons of the First, came to the aid of its
children.

  The roots and stalks of the plants wound around the feet of the renegades, clutching them in a death grip, slowing their movement, knocking them to their feet, fettering them in place. Branches wound around the limbs of the pirqs that had broken through the defenders’ ranks. Snarling with impotent rage, the pirqs of Shadow struggled within their cocoons of branches and leaves even as they were hoisted up to the tops of the trees. Those who remained below made incredible efforts to avoid the fate of their less fortunate brethren.

  Kodiak’s immense figure was swaddled in thick branches from head to toe and yet even the forest could not budge him. The pirq general roared and fought in his chains and the wood cracked and creaked like living armor around him.

  Geranika’s offensive had bogged down. Stopped by their own forest, the renegades fought in snares and bonds. Those who were still free tarried on the blighted ground soaked in Shadow, where the First did not have power over the plants.

  “Focus Geranika!” Amplified with magic, the voice of the Dark Legion leader, cut through the clamor of battle. “Mahan took his immortality. We can kill him!”

  All those who could reach Geranika with an arrow or a spell directed their arsenal at the Lord of Shadow. The damage from a few players, for whom distance had not been an obstacle, was similar to mosquito bites. However, the magic crossbow bolts of the gold-maned Conquolor, the spells of the First and the ambassadors of Kartoss forced Geranika to falter and frown slightly. The shaman’s elegant suit became stained with the blood oozing from his wounds.