Endless Online: Oblivion's Promise

by M. H. Johnson

  Closing his eyes, Val did his best to feel out the internal flows of the artifact Gregor was obliviously fiddling with, doing absolutely nothing to help or harm it. He could only wonder what had transformed it from deadly weapon to dusty relic.

  Val shivered as it all clicked together in his mind's eye. The device was a hybrid of human and dwarven tech. It didn't just synergize the electro-mana combined force, the nexus converted it directly to entirely different forces and fields, flowing into something almost surreal, whatever was responsible for dark energy itself. The nexus was both its brilliance and its weakness. It leaped far beyond what even dwarven blades were capable of, but it could be knocked out by any sudden surge or ripple in the electro-mana field. Most specifically, by any cast spell that leaked any sort of radiation, the norm for almost all casters.

  Arcane Artificer Rank 2 Achieved! Thanks to your Arcane Perception, you are beginning to sense the proper flows and alignments of arcane artifacts without any sophisticated tech or teacher!

  Psion Artificer Rank 2 Achieved! Thanks to your Psionic perception, you are beginning to sense the proper flows and alignments of psionic artifacts without any sophisticated tech or teacher!

  He felt a strange pressure in his chest, a roaring in his ears. "Gregor?"

  The little man scowled at Val interrupting him yet again, eyes widening at whatever he saw in Val's face. He furiously shook his head. "No, Val! No magics, and you're the mage in our group! Anything you do will just make it worse."

  Val continued to hold out his hand, locking gazes with an increasingly anxious Gregor. "Val, if you break this irreparably, the captain won't forgive either of us!"

  "Please, Gregor."

  An endless heartbeat later, Gregor dropped the ancient artifact into Val's waiting hands. The exotically wrapped hilt was just a bit over a foot in length, and strangely familiar in shape. Val closed his eyes, and felt himself sink into the Valorium matrix. Gregor's concerned voice fell away. All perception of space and time became a footnote to the rush of feeling his psyche roaring through connections blazing like stars.

  He could feel the Valorium strands realigning themselves with the force of his presence, and in the blink of an eye, he was before the nexus itself.

  A twist, as if he skirted the edge of a massive black hole at the center of this and all other galaxies, reveling in the sweet taste of oblivion, eager to claim him even now. A wrench of his will, a burst of transcendent insight, and Val opened his eyes.

  It was all he could do not to stumble to the ground.

  "What did you do, what did you do?" A panicked Gregor shouted, grabbing back the ancient weapon, gazing at it with feverish care. Bushy eyebrows widened. He licked dry lips, peering at Val as he righted himself once more. "This, this seems different, somehow."

  Val shrugged. "I don't know for sure. Not yet."

  Gregor suddenly froze. "I don't think I should be holding this right now." He swallowed. "Not that it matters. I'm no Psionicist. There is no way I could use this thing in any case. But if, somehow..." His gaze was almost imploring. "Val? If you, if you did something to it, you should have the honors. Just please, use it outside, away from anyone else. Okay?"

  Val swallowed, suddenly nervous himself, but did not hesitate to accept the Psiblade. "Thank you, Gregor," he said, turning about and leaving the disorganized room of stone and exotic experiments that served as Gregor's laboratory and bedroom both. "I'll head to the back courtyard."

  And when Val raised the hilt high, he wasn't surprised to sense Gregor and Halvar both gazing at him with somber eyes as he attempted to attune himself with the ancient artifact. A breeze blew across the prairie fields dappled with endless flowers, the air alive with the scents of roses and marigolds as Val prepared to risk his very life, catalyzing a weapon that seemed to channel oblivion itself.

  He closed his eyes, somehow feeling his essence, the core of his being, commune with the nexus of the blade.

  The courtyard grew utterly still. Even the wind had stopped blowing, Gregor and Halvar gazing with disbelief at the crackling bar of nul energy projecting nearly four feet from the hilt Val held with wonder in both hands, feeling the flow of life and energy from the world around him, from his own psyche, feed that rift in space and time, a bar of force that somehow still had mass, inertia, and presence with each swing of his weapon.

  100 Psion spent. Temporary Shadowrift formed.

  And how careful he was, focusing entirely on the moment, taking slow measured breaths, aware of every twitch of his muscles, the feel and give of pebbles and dust under his shoes, total body awareness to assure that one careless slip or stumble wouldn't cause instant death, so deadly he knew this blade to be.

  Terror and exhilaration filled him in equal measure as he finished the last of his forms, the crackling blade falling back into the hilt with the easing of his will.

  True Artifice Rank 1 Achieved! Your understanding of arcane artifacts goes far beyond what most mundanes can hope to achieve. Not only Silbion and Elementium, but the primal fundament of magic itself, Valorium, will now heed your will. Craft carefully. Oblivion, as well as wonder, can spawn from your creations.

  Psiblade rank 1 achieved! For all that it handles much like a longsword, you can't help shaking the feeling that the slightest mistake could result in your own death. Ancient swordsmen would grip the edge of mundane blades without fear, knowing it is the slicing that tears open the flesh. Not so this blade, a weapon capable of cutting through the fabric of reality itself!

  And this terrifies you.

  Your fear will cripple your ability to fight with this, the deadliest of all melee weapons.

  Do you have what it takes to train with diligence and focus?

  Can you overcome your own fears?

  Quest granted! Embrace Your Fear I - Practice the longsword forms you have mastered with this instrument of death. Do so with finesse, control, and then speed to achieve Rank 2 in Psiblade.

  Val steeled himself and accepted the quest.

  "Halvar, what the hell is he doing?"

  Halvar gazed at Val, giving a thoughtful shrug. "He's doing sword forms with a Psiblade."

  "But if he makes a mistake, couldn't it kill him?"

  "In a word, yes. So let's pay him the same respect we would any other soldier. Don't break his concentration while he's walking a tightrope over oblivion."

  Gregor shuddered. "The kid's mad, you know that, right? Elise said Highlords only duel with it one-handed, with a forceshield in the opposing hand, always leading with the point! It's hard to cut your own limbs off if you're using it like a rapier, and Highlord's value themselves far too much to allow every match to be a death match. A single poke to the torso, and a regen tank can bring you back."

  Halvar shrugged. "Clearly it can be used as a two-handed blade as well, and whatever else our Val is, I doubt he'll ever be the typical Highlord."

  Gregor paled. "Ancestor's mercy, I still can't believe that he can actually use that thing! Doesn't that mean he's technically a..."

  Halvar snorted. "Only by the loosest definition. He's a kid with strange talents. Talents that are proving damned useful. Now, how about you get back to concocting potions without ruining the rest of our Silbion stores, and I'll keep an eye on our young friend here."

  And Val trained on, allowing his friends' words to wash over him, not even looking their way yet, sensing their presence like figures on a game board that he could sense in its entirety. He was the wind blowing over the compound walls. He was the grass springing under mortal feet, he was the force of the Psiblade itself, arcing through the air in deadly sweeps, slashes and lunges. For all that it was midday and he was clearly visible to Halvar, he had fully embraced Shadowmind at last, the echo of endless predators hunting down their prey, masters of their own body, their own form. Living tools of oblivion, bringing about swift death to all before them. And perhaps Halvar was frowning more and more as Val danced and spun, as if losing track of Val, even in the bright noonda
y sun.

  Of ice and purpose and distant fury, in those moments Val simply was.

  You have achieved Psiblade Rank 2!

  And then as he came to a rest, the killer's deadly claw gently retracting back into its sheath. Val turned to Halvar, who was wearing the strangest of expressions.

  "Sten and Elise are back," Val said, Halvar blinking in surprise, pivoting around to see a smiling Sten who seemed to enjoy getting one over on his friend, Elise grinning as well, until her eyes naturally took in the courtyard just behind the giant of a mercenary, at last alighting upon Val.

  And what he held.

  Sten's eyes widened. Elise blanched and stepped back, gazing at Val in what almost seemed like horror.

  Sten turned to Halvar. "Did Gregor actually manage to fix them? Is Val really using that thing?"

  "No and Yes. Actually, it was Val who tweaked it back to operating status. Maybe it just needed the touch of someone with the gift."

  Sten frowned, gazing at Elise. "That can't be the case. Elise tried to use them herself." Then he blinked, catching sight of his lover's expression.

  Elise's hand was a claw on Sten's arm. "No lesser should be able to use that weapon!"

  Sten's brows furrowed. "What are you saying?"

  Elise trembled and backed away. "Think about it, Sten. How convenient his appearance was. How cavalierly he broke the High Council's edicts with explosives, how easily he defeated those beasts and horrors, how he was able to communicate with both us and the folk we met so perfectly. Complete strangers, and by the end of those mysterious councils he had with them, they were saluting him as we left. As if they had struck some sort of... alliance."

  Halvar's gaze was suddenly void of all warmth, gazing at Val as if he were a potential threat.

  "What are you saying?"

  Elise paled, her violet eyes widening as she slowly shook her head. "The oath we took. He bound us with a Greater Oath! That wasn't any simple Psionic Oathbinding. It was beyond the province of even Court appointed Justiciars! Even now, I cannot say aloud the particulars of what we saw or did at the end of our journey!"

  Halvar frowned. "I never thought of it quite like that before."

  "Well of course not! If he's actually a Darklord using us as his pawns, it's no wonder that you wouldn't."

  Val gazed carefully at those he had wanted to consider friends. People he cared about. The blow stung less when he allowed himself to fully embrace Shadowmind once more. Losing himself to the bitter coldness in his soul as the sun was lost to the storm clouds gathering above.

  "I seem to remember him rushing to your aid more than once, Elise, and you peered into his mind besides," Halvar quietly reminded.

  Elise swallowed, stepping back. "A master could cloak his true thoughts. There is no way a boy could use a Psiblade! And look, he's doing it again!"

  "What is he doing?" Sten frowned, looking around. "I thought he was just here a moment ago. I know he was. Right in front of us!"

  Elise stepped back. "We have to go right now. Get back to the Velimobile. Halvar, get Gregor! Leave everything, just run! We're compromised. We're compromised!" Her voice had raised to a near panic. It had a telling impact on her friends.

  Halvar raced off, shouting orders to Gregor as Elise dragged at a protesting Sten. "What by the ancestors are you talking about?"

  "Shadowmind! I knew it was just too convenient for Val to so easily stalk that Horror. That's a Hunter's skill! If he's not a Darklord, it's because he's one of their pet assassins, and now he has a working Psiblade! I don't know why he waits to strike, but for Heaven's sake, move!"

  Val closed his eyes, unable to believe what had just transpired. Those he had thought of as friends, had trusted his life and safety with, had temporarily given up being with Ava just to see them safely home, their prizes secure, were now abandoning him in a moment of unfounded terror.

  Just because he could use the terrible weapon in his hands.

  Calling out to him, even now.

  Val took slow, deep breaths, feeling the gentle breeze alive with the scents of a thousand blossoms caressing his skin.

  He looked up, sensing Sten still standing there, Elise clenching his arm in a vice-like grip. Val was still very much embracing the icy calm of his darkest self, and the strange gifts it granted him in this even stranger world. It was the only way he could keep from screaming in frustration.

  "Have I ever done anything to betray your trust? Have I shot you in the back? Abandoned you? Forsaken you altogether, leaving you at the mercy of those who have little enough reason to trust anyone above?"

  Val shook his head even as Sten frowned, Elise blanching as she caught sight of him at last, a few yards away from her, where he had always been. "I have done none of those things. Instead, I said goodbye to a girl I held in my arms, leaving her side so I could see you all safely home, your wealth intact. People I thought of as friends, now all too eager to cry 'witch' and flee, or stake me in terror, just because I can use this thing?"

  He gazed down at the now inert Psiblade, looking back at Elise.

  "Can you use this blade, Elise?"

  Elise paled, swallowing, before she finally nodded. "Yes... I... yes I can."

  Val nodded, tossing her the now inert blade, knowing exactly how sturdy it was. Its vulnerability had nothing to do with physical impact, and everything to do with surges of magic. "Then here. A working Psiblade. My gift to you."

  A moment's breathless horror, Sten and Elise gazing openmouthed, as if afraid Val had somehow made a bomb of it, before common sense kicked in and Elise snatched it readily enough, gazing strangely at Val.

  Val flashed a bitter grin. "I was hoping that we could be sparring partners. I was going to fix the other one soon. But seeing you reveal your true feelings, there is absolutely no way we could spar comfortably with such deadly toys, no matter how slow and careful our strokes. So take this one as a gift. There. Now you have the upper hand. You could cut me down with a single swipe right now. Is that what you wish to do?"

  Elise froze, blinking, expression caught between fear, desire, and something Val couldn't quite define before she lowered her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. She turned around and walked back inside, not even activating the blade.

  Sten flashed an apologetic smile, handsome as any movie star even when flustered and off balance, armored jacket tight against him as a light drizzle began to fall. Val felt like he had seen Sten in a half a dozen movies a world away, yet none of those co-starred Val trapped in a world clearly not his own. "I'm sorry about that, Val. I really am."

  Val nodded. "Just say the word, and I'll give you your share of the Elementium. Gregor can hand me some flasks or containers to seal the purified flakes. I'll head on out, and you'll never have to see me again."

  Silence between them as the odd moment lingered, Sten finally sighing and turning around, heading back inside.

  Val would love to know what thoughts were dancing in their heads, but psionicist talents aside, he couldn't read minds, only grasp flashes of old hurts or sense feelings now and again. He halfway thought it was simply because these meta-humans had developed additional cortex clusters that placed them leaps and bounds ahead of simpler creatures like Val. But for all their evolutionary leaps, they were as prone to bouts of idiocy as anyone back on Earth.

  Thinking Val would betray his friends.

  12

  "A fine morning, isn't it?"

  Val turned to the sound of Halvar's greeting, the man sitting on the stone step descending from the ancient patio so reminiscent of Earth's own, as was the extensive backyard. One had to look closely to see the telltale differences in the scrub grass and flowers not to think one was in the Midwest. The air was sweet with the smells of exotic blooms, and his belly had never been bothered by the fare.

  Val lowered his training blade, taking a break from the longsword forms he had been practicing since he had gotten up that morning, having retired long after everyone else had returned to thei
r quarters the night before. He had experienced a turmoil of emotions but had ultimately decided to stay. He was hopeful but not stupid, classic wooden bed frame jerked in front of the door, his window open, allowing for a quick getaway in the unlikely possibility it would be needed, even carefully placed dried leaves and twigs outside, just in case. He had slept fully armored, which had resulted in only a -2 penalty to his stamina this day, and how strange it was to have the constant reminders that he was either in a game world or a universe very different from his own.

  He was just glad to have woken up from nothing more threatening than the first rays of the morning sun, putting his room back in order as if he had never felt the need for such caution, refreshing himself from the cistern and embracing his training as if he were back at home during the first days of summer, just a few short years ago, dreams of competitions and victory compelling him to master forms until they flowed like silk.

  He gazed from his training sword to a patiently waiting Halvar, pleased to see the soot he had marked his blade with showed no signs of having touched his shoulder or hair, feeling more confident than ever about embracing that terrible Psiblade once more.

  Assuming he ever got a chance to use it again.

  Halvar gave an approving nod. "I see you are already warmed up. Good. Let's get started then."

  Val watched as Halvar, already fully kitted in his reinforced armor, this time with a jury-rigged gorget for added neck protection, picked up his own training blade from where it hung by the other practice gear, protected from the rain by an overhang. He then walked across the still damp grass to face Val from some ten paces away. He smiled upon glimpsing Val's expression.

  "Unsure of purpose or place, or where you stand with your fellows. Good. We don't always have the benefit of serenity when it is time for us to fight. Let's train as if you really did have to fear us abandoning you, simply because one of us has had more bad experiences than you could fathom. Ready your blade, Val, let's see you try that Zornhau on me again!"