((Book 1 and 2 if this is your first time here:
Book 1: https://books2read.com/u/bPLPjd
Book 2: https://www.draft2digital.com/book/1120030 ))
"Do you know where my Shard is?"
I ask Nyt as the others begin to head out.
"Shard? Oh, that thing you had on your wrist?"
"Yeah. Do you know where it went?"
"I put it in the bag. Took it off of your wrist and it turned into a slab….I'm sorry. I didn't know it was important."
"No, that's its original shape," I say as I pull my backpack off, pull open the flap, and reach inside. Sure enough, I feel the gel-like surface of the Shard buried in the bottom.
There he is.
"Hello, Reynard."
Hello? Is that all you have to say? You summon an actual demon, let it possess you and all you have to say is, "Hullo Reynard."
"It worked out, didn't it?"
Worked out? Worked out? You're a child. Calling forth a spirit from Hell like that…you're lucky, lucky that it didn't wind up possessing you. Remember, if you die I die. And I still need you, Lawrence.
"Yeah, yeah, can you show me my stats?"
You're not listening to me, are you? Respect your life more, Lawrence.
The Shard shifts into a table.
Occupation
Elementalist
Level
54(987/10000)
Strength
40 (+5)
Stamina
21
Perceptiveness
10
Intelligence
40 (+5)
Creativity
53 (+10)
Endurance
26
Magic
107 (+20)
Additional Stats
12
"54, and only 12 stat points?"
Yes. You poured all of your stat points into Creativity, remember?
Barely.
"But I killed nearly 2000…"
Most of those were level 1's and had never really seen combat before. Most of your levels came from that Apostle.
I look over my stats again. I can figure that most of the additional stat increases are from the items I had been gifted. I confirm this by grasping the staff currently laid against the edge of my bed and watching the +20 on my Magic stat jump up to +80. What was boosting my Creativity, however?
While I'm mulling this over, Nyt sneaks up behind me.
"Huh, that's interesting. Lyk's Apostle described something similar."
She says. I turn around to face her and take a step back to create some space between us.
"What do you mean?"
"I once asked her how Apostles got so strong, and she described something remarkably similar to that table thing, though she said she could see it floating in the air in front of her, not on a rock."
"Really? Huh. This is based on something in my world actually. I'll show you one when we get there."
"Looking forward to it," Nyt says.
I sit down on the edge of the bed.
"So when do we move out?" She says. "A lot of us are eager to get out of here, and the dead are starting to stink. We've been waiting for you to get up to burn them and then move out."
"Burn them?"
"Yes. It's more respectful during times of war. Sends their Spirits upwards so they could be lead home."
Right, the 'Keeper of the Bridge,' I wonder if I should ask Reynard if that was true. I put all of the remaining points into Perceptiveness. My eye, ears, and nose burns as the 10 jumps up to 16.
"Interesting. So you increase those numbers there, mana flows into you from that thing, and rapidly reconstructs parts of your body?"
"Supposedly," I say through clenched teeth as the burning passes.
"Are you finished?"
"Almost." I answer, "One more thing I need to do."
"I'll go get everyone together, then."
Once she leaves I turn back to Reynard.
"Can you show me my skill page? I'm curious about a few things."
Spoiler
Without any quips, the screen changes. Perhaps Reynard is mad at me, or perhaps he is held up somewhere. I look it over. I don't think I'll ever use Invoke Wrath again. I had never felt rage like that. I never press the entry to, "Muse Touched," a new passive. A part of the Shard breaks off and hovers beside the main body.
"The Muses of Halycon have taken an interest in you thanks to your boundless creativity. Grants +10 to the Creativity stat."
"Ah, so that's what was granting the buff," I mutter.
"Can you show me what skills I can get?"
I had my mind on one of them. It was a necessity for the future. If I no longer intend to rely on people, then I would need to be able to make my own army if need be. I find the Kabbalah section and scroll through it. About seven connection points down, I find it — Create Golem. It was a spell I had seen in passing at one point but didn't really think much of. I look at the first available boxes in the section. Vow to the Ein-Sof. The description reads:
Make a vow to The One that you will do good all throughout your life. If you break this vow, all of your power would become forfeit.
I hesitate. What's, 'good,' and who is defining it in this instance? And if I slip up once, all of my power would be taken from me? Forget it. Besides, didn't the Ratmen create a golem somehow? And what about those constructs that I had destroyed earlier, couldn't those be considered a type of golem, perhaps I should ask Nyt once we're on the road. If worst comes to worst, I could always create a spell.
"Thank you, Reynard." I say.
Yeah yeah, whatever.
How childish.
You do remember that I can read your mind, right?
I do.
I put the Shard back around my wrist, and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I was done with everything I needed to do here, and there was one last thing I needed to do back on Earth — save Dylan. I check to make sure I have everything I need. Satisfied, I take the first steps toward the door. A bit of pain still radiates in my leg. I think for a moment about healing it completely; getting rid of that ugly scar and the little bit of pain radiating from it, but I push that thought out of my mind before I even reach the door. It was a memento. Proof of my father's sacrifice. I would wear that scar with pride for the rest of my life. That is the third vow that I make that day.
The door swings open with little resistance, as I step out into the canal district of the fort. Countless people — Efran and Human both, flow out of the buildings surrounding me, heading toward the gate. The stench of death clings to the air, with heavy black smoke crowding out the light.
A few people whisper as they pass me. Some wave, but most ignore me altogether. Of these Allie is one of them. She looks healthier than she was a couple of days before I suppose it's a little harder for humans to forgive than the Efrans who were already used to a lifetime of war. I glare back at a few of them, and they glance quickly away.
"Finally done weeping?" The General's voice calls from behind me.
Those he was speaking to were a mixture of both Efran and Humans. I recognize them at once as the remains of the small force that the general led into the woods.
"Yes sir," I answer.
"Don't you, 'yes sir,' me." He approaches me and slaps me on the shoulder, and hisses as he shakes the pain out of his hand.
"You're a hero, Private Able. In time, the others will see that, but for now, accept their rage quietly and with dignity."
"I'm responsible for their deaths."
"No you aren't; you're responsible for there," he motions to a group of young children walking out of the large building at the very edge of the town, "lives."
I've had this conversation before with Nyt, so I brush away his words. What I feel, is what I feel, and simple words won't be able to change that.
"Now, there's going to be some inquiries when we get back. It's going to be troublesome. There are snakes in our nation, but first off, we're dealing with those who didn't answer your call for help."
A slight tremble forms in the corner of my mouth. Was I really left to die? Why. With this question plaguing my mind I follow the flow of people out of the gates. The roads seem a bit wider than they were the day before, and soon I come to see why as we pass by the second wall of large Earthen Spikes.
Our dead — about 200 of the 250 people who fought in the front lines by the gate half of the General's group, and all of the group who were sent to protect the outpost, had been laid on small, individual pyres made from the remains of torn down buildings. About 320 people in total lay still and dead here, while the followers of Roki were left to rot in scorched fields. Some of the women who walked with the children shielded their eyes as they walked past, and I linger with a few people staring at the faces of their lost loved ones laying wrapped in oil-soaked strips of cloth.
Nyt and a few Efrans wait with burning torches among the dead for the last of us to pass.
"I'll stay for this," I tell the General.
He nods and stops with me.
"I will too." He says. "These people fought valiantly, the least I could do is see them off."
I nod and look around the honored dead until I find him. My father. Besides him was the body of my mother. I glance at Nyt and she nods at me. I pull the amulet out of my pocket and take a deep breath as I wait for the last of the train of people to pass. Nyt approaches me and looks at the amulet in my hand.
"Are you going to do it?"
I nod.
"How do I get her out of there?"
"Simply breathe some mana into it."
She says before she begins her grim task. She dips her torch onto the body of a nearby one, and the oils catch almost immediately; casting plumes of black smoke to the skies. I put the amulet to my mouth and breath a stream of mana into it.
Strands of violet flow out of the amulet, and coalesce into a figure that stands before me; the figure of my mother as I remember her during my childhood.
Lawrence…
"Mom…"
What do I say?
The figure stretches out her arms, and I try to fall into her embrace as I had when I was a child. I fall through her and land on the ground beneath her. I try to push myself up, but I can't. All the grief that I had thought I had moved past seizes my legs, as I press my forehead against the ground. I feel a coolness brush against my hair, and I know at once that she's trying to brush it like she did when I was younger.
Lawrence. I'm sorry for being such a bad Mom.
"No, mom. I'm sorry for being a bad son."
What the hell else do I say but sorry? What else...
I should have helped you better. Should have been there for you more, like I was with your brother. I love you, Lawrence.
"I...I love you too Mom. I'm sorry, this is my fault. This is.."
Shh. Shhh. No, it's not. Shhh, honey it's okay.
As black smoke rises around me I pour out my regrets to the phantom of my mother. Her soothing coos a stark comparison to the chaos raging within me. I apologize for never finding a job. I apologize for yelling at her all of the time. I apologize for never giving her a grandchild, I apologize for never properly getting her the help she needs, and lastly, I apologize for not being there to save her.
Beneath the orange light of the spreading flames, I push myself up and approach her body. I brush her cheek with the side of my hand and set the amulet on top of her chest.
"I'm sorry Mom, I'm going to have to let you go."
I know Lawrence. I want to go. I want to be with your father.
Her ghostly form moves to his side. Her violet form looks down on his placid face.
I never stopped loving him, you know. Even through those years of alcoholism, and my own addiction. Please, let me be with him.
She plants a kiss on his forehead, and I nod.
"I allow the blood of the salamanders to flow through me," I speak through my trembling voice.
I fire the bolt of fire into the base of my father's pyre and turn my staff to my mother's.
"I allow the breath of the salamanders to flow through me."
The orange bolt collides against my mother's pyre, and it, too, takes to flame. The oil-soaked woods and cloths burn quickly; casting thick black smoke to join the ever fog in the sky.
Tell Mark that I love him, okay Lawrence.
My mother says as her ghost joins the black smoke.
"I will, Mom."
I swear I saw her smiling as her ghost joined the plumes of my father's pyre to vanish within the skies.
"Hey, Reynard," I speak to the Shard as I wait above the town; watching the trail of dust leading down to the hunting lodge sat, crossed-legged at the top of the tower.
The General and Nyt and the Efrans who had lit the pyres had gone ahead to make sure that everyone got to the door safely. I used one of my skill points and purchased the skill Far Sight, something that I would need in the future for safer scouting in places where I couldn't hide well in my cat form.
What.
"What do you know of the 'Keeper of the Bridge.'"
Perhaps it is the Efran's equivalent of the Watcher by the Threshold?
I've heard of that phrase before; in Manly P. Hall's book about spirits. The description in that book was incredibly vague, only that everyone will come across his eventually.
"What does it do?"
It ushers spirits to their destination.
"That's it?"
That's it.
"What if that destination is on another world?"
Yes. Both the spiritual and physical realms of Efra are connected at the moment.
An invisible pressure flees from my heart.
"Thank you, Reynard."
With that bit of pressure free from me, I close my eyes and concentrate. This spell is different from the ones I had learned before. It doesn't require an incantation, no, it requires a repeating phrase that I don't know the meaning of. I close my eyes and begin the mantra.
"Tie ah tah, gah tay gah tay, para gah tay, parah soom gah tay, bodhi svaha…." I'll look into its meaning more when I get home.
While chanting I cross my legs so that my left foot rests on top of my right knee, and my right foot rests beneath my left knee. Ten minutes pass as I chant before my consciousness slips away from my body and into the air. I see my own body on the ground, continuing the chant. I barely hear it as I will myself forward. Instead of flying, it was more like I was blinking and suddenly looking at a new location. Now I see the charred remains of the Efrans rotting in the field. Blink. Now I watch over the train of people heading back to the door to Earth. Blink. Now I hover over the end of the path. Blink. Now I see the hunting lodge. All the while the chant of, gah tay gah tay para gah tay, para soom gah tay bodhi svaha echo at the very edge of my consciousness.
Blink. An hour passes. Blink. Now all light has fled from the skies. Blink. A group of people waits around the hunting lodge. Now. I stop chanting and push myself up. My head swims, and I summon a bead of water with Coalesce before getting ready. There'll be no chance for anyone to miss the deadline now. I move back behind the tower and jam my staff into the ground.
"Oh you Gnomes; faithful servants of Gob the Glorious, and you Undines; thou warrior-maidens of Necksa the Beautiful; I call upon you for conflict…" Water and earth mana surge up my feet and out the same way. I push it far, far down the mountain slope I stood on so that it encompassed a good half of the mountain slope, "...at my feet. Glorious conflict, oh thou spirits of earth and water, and move the very earth itself."
I modify the spell a little. Once the incantation is finished, the earth begins to shake and move. Half of the mountain slope slides down into the fort below me with a loud crash. I look down over the results of the Upheaval. More than half of the town had been buried beneath the landslide.
"Is that enough, Reynard?"
A little more.
'A volley, o' djinn."
20 arrows of wind and flame crash into a few of the buildings still standing. Another cast sends another wave of flame to consume more of the buildings. It wouldn't take long for them all to suffer a similar fate.
"How about that?"
Yes. You have two hours to get back.
Two hours? Easy.
I tap my forehead with my staff and utter:
"Companion of mine, I require thy form."
I slip into Shadow's form and sprint forward. I'm much quicker than I was when I started this dive. Much, much quicker. I leap off the decimated mountain slope and soon find my way darting between the stretching, yawning shadows of the tree. I leap from the small jump and onto the winding mountain path.
About halfway down the mountain path, when the trail begins to merge once more with the dark wood forests, I encounter a pack of Lionharts — what I had come to call those lion/elk hybrids I had come across just once in the first level 10 dive I've ever done. Three of them, chasing down a wounded Deerman.
Earthen Spike.
I split the mana stream into three and release it underneath the charging elk-like creatures. The spikes of packed soil and stone run through their stomachs. I end their suffering early with another trio of spikes rising from the ground to pierce their heads. My control of mana was on another level, now. I press my head against the deerman's leg and cast a wave of Lesser Heals through its body before I sprint ahead of it.
There was an hour left before the door would close, by the time I make it to the hunting lodge. I look for the General and shift back into my own form.
"It's done. Go through." I tell him.
"Alright, people!" He yells, "We're going home!"
A cheer erupts from the crowd, and people begin to push through the hunting lodge. We make sure to send the humans through first; so that when the Efrans come through there'll be someone there to stop the ensuing panic. Allie side-eyes me as she passes by; the disgust that normally paints her visage whenever she sees me noticeably missing.
"See you on the other side, Private Able." The General said, right before he followed the last human out. 45 minutes left.
Then it was Efran's turn. I can only imagine the chaos it'll cause the world for the next few weeks as they discuss the possibilities of non-humans moving into human cities. Each one expresses their gratitude toward me in some way; some with words spoken in languages that I cannot understand, others with simple nods of their heads.
"Thank you, Lawrence," Nyt says, as she follows the last of the Efrans through the door.
I watch her vanish, and make sure no one is left behind before stepping through as well. I won't miss this little slice of hell.
I step through the door with a single thought in my head:
I should warn the Efrans to stay away from people in animal costumes.