Chapter 226. The Darkseers (Patreon)

[ this chapter is really late but it's the length of two chapters so enjoy ]

Two days ago, against his better judgment, Soolemar had answered a call from Euryphel summoning him to a rift on the other side of the world for the “first official meeting of the unnamed organization.”

There were two recommended ways to reach such a rift, and Soolemar didn’t consider either of them an option. The first and simplest: take a transit array directly to the rift’s closest city. The second: take more mundane transportation via ship or hovergloss.

“Divian, what is old Mar to do?” he cooed, scratching the silvery dog under the chin. She panted with joy, her tail wagging so fast as to drag her butt side to side.

He sighed and threw the squeaky tennis ball to the side. Divian bounded away with the energy of a puppy, leaving Soolemar alone to peer out the window of his penthouse and onto Morinapol’s bay.

“Gray like you, Divi,” he quipped. “And dour, like my mood.”

The dog didn’t show any sign she’d heard her name, fully focused on wringing every squeak she could out of the toy.

But Soolemar was out of time. If he didn’t leave in the next hour, he’d never make it using the third method of travel available to him.

With a groan, he twisted his primary storage ring. A well-dressed mannequin manifested in front of him, its dress shoes planting solidly on the floor. The mannequin’s head was the only exposed part of it, revealing smooth features carved into the wood. Socketed in its eyes were onyx soul gems that glowed forest green.

Soolemar didn’t need to speak to give the construct any commands–it was good for only two things that he’d hard-programmed into its system.

Feeding and taking Divian on walks.

Soolemar scrounged up a cloth scarf from a dresser drawer and tied it around the construct’s face. Honestly, he didn’t think the disguise was very good, but as long as the mannequin only took Divian out at night, there shouldn’t be any problems. He’d be screwed if a Life or Death practitioner decided to walk along the same route as the construct, but the chances of that were minimal.

Besides, if anything catastrophic happens, they’ll know this is my construct and cover things up. Soolemar wasn’t sure who they would be in this case–the police? Local government? But it was irrelevant–someone would inevitably cover up his messes.

Gnoste was safe. Gnoste was where he had the people in power in his back pocket.

Literally everywhere else was the problem.

Before he could talk himself out of leaving, he slipped out the front door. He was halfway down the elevator platform when he realized he’d forgotten to change his clothes to something more appropriate than a casual dress shirt and khakis.

Nope, not going back! Whether the clothes would make the journey was questionable, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have any clothes in a storage ring.

Soolemar exited his building and steered toward the nearest transit station. He felt lightheaded the entire hovergloss ride over, which shouldn’t have been possible given his unique body.

It’s all in your head, he thought. Calm down. You’re just going to the array station. Nothing to be nervous about.

Soolemar moved through the array station as if in a trance. When he arrived at the front of the queue for an array leading to Gnoste’s southern border, he could hardly remember how he’d even gotten there.

“Sir?” an attendant asked.

He blinked and shook his head. “Ah, yes.” He stepped onto the platform and the next thing he knew, he was standing in a new array station. It was smaller than Morinapol’s and older, dingier. Very Gnoste-like.

You’re still in Gnoste, he thought, trying to give himself some encouragement. Gnoste. Not Breath.

Not for long, though.

Soolemar composed himself and left the array station. He took a hovergloss to the edge of the small town, then went off on his own into the prairie. He sat on a tree stump and took in a deep breath.

“The world is different now,” he muttered to himself. “Nobody is expecting necromancers to pass over the border, let alone someone like me.” In other words, someone not entirely alive.

Just go already!

“I’m so going to regret this,” he said, sighing. He burst through the trees, putting on rapid speed. He passed over the border without incident, but the journey through Breath itself was long and slow. The country was largely mountainous, with ever-increasing peaks the further south he went. More than that, the county had a large population, so Soolemar had to actively avoid random people even when traveling off-path in the mountains.

Even though he’d been living in safety and comfort of late, he slipped with ease into old patterns of movement, resembling phantom more than man. He flitted silently between cover while remaining ever aware of his surroundings with his vital vision.

When the Illyrian coastline finally came into view, he laughed from exhilaration before remembering himself.

If you’re caught, things will not go well for you.

But Y’jeni, it had been so long, so so so long since he’d actually done anything worth mentioning. He’d had a sharp dose of excitement when working with Ian, but that faded almost as soon as it came. Like his protege Ventrebel, Ian ultimately left him alone.

The excitement of mattering was coming back again, but Soolemar recognized it for what it was: danger.

Whenever you go out to change the world, it takes things in return.

Soolemar didn’t know what he’d be sacrificing this time. Perhaps nothing today or tomorrow. But it wasn’t just today and traveling across the world that caused all his doubts and misgivings. It was stepping onto a path that would likely end in failure.

Soolemar rubbed his face with his hands. One foot in front of the other.

After finding the coast, he relied on his glossY to take him the rest of the way, matching his location to the given coordinates. The rift was underwater in a shallow bed of seaweed. Soolemar didn’t need to worry about bringing any swimming equipment, but his slightly-torn clothes wouldn’t appreciate a salty soaking.

When he came within a half mile of the rift’s coordinates, Soolemar slowed his pace to a crouch and slinked over to a large, capsized palm tree. Hiding himself among the overgrowth would be enough to obscure his bizarre vital signature. It wouldn’t do anything about his fate arrows, but that was a known risk.

He had been assigned to arrive at 3 am as part of the fourth group, which meant he shouldn’t be arriving alone if “group” had any significance. He’d made fair time and arrived at 2:30, so he decided to sit and wait to see who else would show up.

Fifteen minutes passed and nobody made an appearance. Perhaps people had arrived earlier and gone in. Or...maybe they were employing the same strategy as him: lying in wait to see who would show up.

“Soolemar,” a voice spoke over the wind. He twitched from surprise, but recognized the voice immediately: Euryphel.

“What?” Soolemar whispered.

“Come inside. There’s no sense in waiting in the jungle alone. Your protection is guaranteed.”

“By whom, exactly?”

“Guardian Urstes, Prime Shivin’i, Prime Ezenti, and myself,” he replied. “At a minimum we will intervene on your behalf if others find your presence unsavory.”

Soolemar understood that the former prince was trying to make him feel safer, but his words weren’t exactly encouraging. Sure, all the people Euryphel listed were powerful peak practitioners, but Soolemar knew of multiple individuals who could kill all of them in a single unexpected shot.

“Whatever I lack in raw power, I make up for with my foresight,” Euryphel added.

Soolemar couldn’t argue with that.

—

Shivin’i had chosen the optimal rift based on its likelihood of discovery by foreign entities as well as its central location between the East and West. They hadn’t known anything about the rift before scouting it out a few days ago, but thankfully it wasn’t particularly dangerous–it was a forest rift mostly filled with herbivorous riftbeasts, unlike the tentacle sharks that infested the last rift Euryphel spent time in.

Euryphel and the other members of the former SPU were first to arrive. They’d set up an overhead tarp to deal with the possibility of inclement weather, as well as a few defensive arrays to keep predatory riftbeasts away. Diana complained that Euryphel didn’t need to waste energy setting up arrays to secure the area–people could take care of themselves–but he didn’t pay her mind. He needed to be doing something other than simply waiting impatiently for everyone to arrive.

They’d divided people into arrival groups, but people were running late. Besides those of the former SPU, they were expecting eight...and only four had arrived. If they haven’t come already, they won’t come ever, part of him whispered.

Suran Rindo had been first to arrive and had been quiet, keeping to himself. Coronus Byrrh was next, the white-haired old man acting like he was walking into the lion’s den even though Godora was allied with the former SPU under the banner of the federation. Fhazeema Fhorus of Sere arrived exactly on time, her severe unnaturally-blue hair tied up in a twisted braid that coiled around her head like a circlet or garland. Beneath the wetsuit, she wore a sapphire blue tunic and dark leggings.

Euryphel’s fears that nobody else would show slowly faded as others filed in late.

Celek Illalios was unrepentant as he stepped into the rift two hours later than his dictated arrival time. Maria was right to put him in the first arrival group, Euryphel thought. His honey hair was in a messy bun, his amber eyes filled with casual amusement and curiosity as he scoped out the others in attendance.

The second to last to arrive was one of the most important: Lindabet Zhuram, the Night Queen of Datcha. “Apologies, Executor.” She began unzipping her watertight suit, revealing an all-black skintight suit with whorls of intricate inscriptions. “The transit array I scheduled was under maintenance.”

Zhuram was one of the people he least expected to actually show. She was the only person recruited by General Eurelia Var’dun’a, and one of the most powerful invited to join their organization. The General and the Night Queen were distant relatives, but kept in touch because of their shared peak Dark affinity. Looking at them together, Euryphel thought they looked like sisters, sharing a swarthy complexion and severe features. The main difference was that Zhuram’s face was uncovered, revealing a pearly-white smile, where Var’dun’a’s was covered by a cowl that hid her damaged mouth and throat.

Euryphel smiled politely. “I’m sorry to hear you were inconvenienced.” He pointed to the right. “Wetsuits go on the clothes line strung between those trees.”

She nodded and stepped out of the wetsuit. “Hmm, but who is this?” Zhuram murmured, her eyes locking with a silver-haired man with vibrant green eyes. Soolemar seemed outwardly unconcerned, but the Zhuram’s Life practitioner gaze was likely alarming.

“A powerful ally,” Euryphel replied, inclining his head toward Soolemar. “And indispensable for the task at hand.”

Zhuram smiled coldly. “A task I look forward to hearing about.”

Euryphel swallowed. At least I get as many chances to explain the situation as I need.

The last to arrive was Orion Iucorsu, scion of the man considered by many to be the most powerful Beginning practitioner in the world, Ferasci Iucorsu. His dark eyes scanned the forest as he entered the rift, his posture like that of a big cat, poised to attack or retreat at a moment’s notice. “Hello,” he said. “For so many to be here already, it seems that I’m one of the last to arrive.”

“You’re the last,” Euryphel said. “But you aren’t late; you were scheduled for the last arrival group.”

Iucorsu stripped off his suit, revealing a dress shirt and slacks. As though gravitating to the person dressed most similarly to himself, Iucorsu stood next to Soolemar. Their blue shirts and khaki-colored pants were almost identical in color, save for the fact that Soolemar’s trousers were stained by seaweed.

Iucorsu clearly isn’t reading the immortal’s standoffish body language, Euryphel noted.

Euryphel surveyed the attendees. By some miracle, everyone had made it. Euryphel entered a scenario and took Shivin’i aside.

“Why do you think everyone has come?” he asked, his voice lowered.

“Because this is important, and powerful people don’t like to be in the dark about important things,” the prime replied simply. “Besides, it’s not like you were cold-calling people. Everyone here was brought by one connection or another to our core group, and only after careful screening by myself and Guardian Lanhui.”

Euryphel supposed that was all true, but his paranoia reared its head. What if they hadn’t been thorough enough? What if some of the people they’d brought into their midst would betray them once they learned why they’d been summoned to the rift?

His one minute Regret limit wouldn’t give him enough time to fully explain the situation, let alone see people’s reactions. In an ideal world he’d be able to conduct the entire meeting first in one long Regret scenario, then decide who could be trusted.

In an alternate, slightly less ideal world, he’d get everyone to agree to having their memories of the meeting wiped if they decided that they did not want to be part of the organization’s activities moving forward.

But of course nobody would agree to that. Euryphel certainly wouldn’t, were he in the shoes of the newcomers.

He killed the scenario and snapped back to the present. With a small sigh, he started a scenario anew and addressed everyone.

“Thank you all for coming,” Euryphel began. “I appreciate the trust you’ve placed in me and my allies. You traveled across the world with only little more than an assurance your time would be well-spent doing so. It’s time to reveal why we’ve brought you all here.”

Shivin’i stepped forward and created a slab of plain, colored blue light with his Light affinity.

“All of you know of the Infinity Loop,” Euryphel said,speaking quickly. Shivini’s projection morphed, displaying the logo of Viscero, the Sere-based company that invented the technology. “A member nation of the imperial federation, Selejo, used its pilot Infinity Loop to rear the master decemancer Ian Dunai, proving the potential of the loop to awaken the slumbering potential of powerful regulars.”

Shivin’i’s image shifted to show a three-dimensional still of Ian wielding his practice in battle, energy coiling over his armored robes and skin like obsidian mercury. The image panned slowly from left to right.

“Dunai became so powerful within the loop that he commenced his ascension therein and ascended two months ago.”

“One would need to live under a rock to be unaware of this information,” Illalios mused, his lips curling into a curious smile. He curled a lock of hair with his index finger. “Everyone here was at the Fassari Summit and saw Dunai win first-hand.”

Not quite everyone, Euryphel thought, but held his tongue. “Tell me truthfully, have your nations been scrambling to secure Infinity Loops of their own?”

“Obviously,” Zhuram said. “What of it?”

Euryphel smiled bitterly and decided to cut to the chase; his scenario time was dwindling. “The Infinity Loop technology must be destroyed, for everyone. And we want your help to make that happen.”

The group of newcomers save Soolemar appeared stunned. Zhuram narrowed her eyes, while Illalios began to laugh. Suran Rindo was expressionless as he leaned against a wide, gnarled tree. Iucorsu appeared curious, his posture opening up to become less defensive. Coronus Byrrh and Kaiwen Chowicz exchanged grave looks, slowly nodding to one another.

Fazeema Fhorus had the most explosive reaction of all, her eyes flaring blue to match her hair and tunic. “That’s preposterous,” she spat. “The loop technology is now out in the world. You can’t erase proliferated ideas. What you ask is impossible.”

Ten seconds left, Euryphel thought. “If we can’t accomplish the impossible, our world is forfeit.”

Illalios’s expression hardened. “Where is your proof?”

Euryphel killed the scenario and started again. He looped five more times, repeating his introduction in different ways until at last he was satisfied. When he finally revealed their purpose in the real world, where everyone present would remember, it took all his experience in politics to keep calm.

“... Unless we destroy the Infinity Loop technology, effacing all records of it from the world such that another such loop could never arise except by coincident invention, our world is forfeit.

Unlike in the first scenario, nobody laughed when he said they needed to destroy the Infinity Loop.

“Where is your proof?” Fhorus asked, rubbing at the bangles on her wrist. “You speak with gravity I cannot deny. But to roll back the greatest technological leap in recent memory is unconscionable.”

“Before the Skai’aren left, he confirmed that the city of Cunabulus was covered in corrupted souls produced by the Infinity Loop.”

“Wasn’t the loop in Pardin?” Illalios wondered, tapping his chin.

Zhuram snorted coldly. “It was relocated to Cunabulus.”

“Like I keep track of the minutiae in every random country,” he grumbled.

Rindo crossed his arms over his chest. “The fate I’ve seen hints at what you prophesy, Executor Euryphel. End affinity scries connections between people, but its name isn’t without reason–it seeks the ends of people and things, the final folding of fate.”

“What have you seen?” Byrrh asked.

Rindo pulled out his special deck of cards, then pulled three from seemingly random places in the stack. He revealed them, holding them up in front of his chest.

“The Cicada, the Eyeless Hunger, and the Pit. I only started drawing these cards five years ago, and they’ve dominated my auguries for the far future.”

“Coincident with the time the first Infinity Loop prototype experiment,” Fhorus noted.

Soolemar spoke for the first time, asking, “What is your interpretation of the cards, Sublime?”

Rindo smiled at the polite use of his courtesy name. “Call me Suran. As for my interpretation... The cards represent the past, the present, and future. The cicada for the past suggests that we’ve been graced by a rare event, leading society to shed the old for the new. The Eyeless Hunger for the present is ominous, and its interpretation is rather obvious. And the Pit for the future symbolizes death and the abyss, a final end in darkness.” He chuckled. “All in all a pleasant omen for the future.”

Euryphel had heard the prediction in a scenario already, but the others hearing it for the first time looked disturbed. Zhuram in particular turned ashen.

“And you had never seen such an end before five years ago?” she asked.

Rindo shook his head. “Never.”

Orion Iucorsu shook his head. “This is all very ominous, but if there were danger, my father would know of it. Nothing escapes his attention.”

“Your father can’t see souls,” Soolemar sniffed.

Zhuram’s eyes suddenly narrowed, her smile becoming predatory. “A truly crucial missing piece of the puzzle.” Her gaze roved to Euryphel. “How could the Skai’aren see souls, to report their corruption?”

“Necromancy,” Byrrh said, exhaling sharply. “It’s how he overcame Coronus Kiehl’s illusions.”

“And how he defeated the Eldemari,” Chowicz murmured softly, averting her gaze. Then, more forcefully, she said, “Regardless of my own feelings about necromancy, the fact remains that the Infinity Loop is corrupting souls and dooming our world.”

“But why us?” Illalios asked, sighing.

“Because I think you’ll help,” Euryphel said simply. “Because someone believed in you.”

The Shattradan ruler snorted. “Who? Who among this number thought of my name first, when considering people to literally save the world?”

Euryphel froze. This is taking a different direction than the scenario.

“Maria,” Chowicz snapped.

“Maria is dead,” Illalios retorted. “Besides, I’m the last person she’d come to.”

“Maria lives on in the ascendant world,” Chowicz hissed. “You fool, how could she die–Maria, more tenacious than all of us put together?”

Revealing that hadn’t been part of the plan, but at this point it didn’t much matter. People seemed to be taking the threat seriously.

Prime Ezenti had been silent the entire time in the background. He couldn’t literally read people’s thoughts, but he could glean people’s intentions and feelings. If he sensed anything was amiss, he’d signal to the prince by walking forward. He still hadn’t moved from his spot.

“Order,” Euryphel commanded, the wind carrying and amplifying his voice. “I want to confirm one thing before proceeding. Does everyone here agree that the issue at hand is important and critical to the survival of our world?”

Nobody nodded or said anything, but at least nobody disagreed. Euryphel would take that for now. “Our purpose is clear, but the means are muddy. Saving our world necessitates the destruction and prevention of all Infinity Loops, present and future.”

“A daunting task,” Zhuram said.

Euryphel looped a few times to get the next part just right.

“Indeed. But whether it’s possible or not isn’t important,” he continued. He never would have said such an inflammatory statement without first testing it out in scenarios. “Shivin’i, what matters to you?”

“Living without regrets,” he said simply.

Euryphel nodded. “Before today, you all lived in ignorance, considering the Infinity Loop the pinnacle of progress, the herald of a new age of powerful practitioners. Who among you could return home now and, without compunctions, invest in the loop’s development?”

Silence.

“I felt the same way...but we have responsibilities, don’t we? Tell your court that investing in the Infinity Loop is unethical and they’ll unseat you. None of us is in a position to act alone or even steer the destinities of our respective nations.

“What I propose instead is acting from the shadows to do what cannot be done in the light.” Grandiose words, but they had better resonance with the egos of the audience. He originally sought to ask for affirmation that people would join the cause, but that ended in disappointment. Don’t ask them to join. Act as if they already have. “But we need a name before we can get started. Rindo, is there a particularly fateful name that comes to mind?”

He shook his head slowly.

“Anyone?” Silence. “How about you, Soolemar?”

The necromancer looked disgruntled. He rolled his eyes and snorted. “We’re all fools. Our task is difficult, perhaps impossible.”

“You’re not wrong,” Euryphel said. “We are fools, but that’s only one perspective. In the long lens of history, the fools are the failures. Those that succeed are the visionaries, the seers.”

Euryphel could see that Diana wanted to speak. She was shuffling from foot to foot, her lips pressing together as though she needed to forcefully seal them shut.

He’d given those from the Selejo Imperial Federation orders to stand down and listen, rather than speak, but now was the time to break that silence.

“Prime Diana, do you have any ideas?”

“The Darkseers,” she said. “We see the darkness, but bring the light, restoring the future.”

“Not bad,” Euryphel said. “Any other suggestions?”

Unsurprisingly, there were none.

Not the most imaginative group.

“Until future notice, we’ll call ourselves the Darkseers. Now that we’re all on the same page, it’s time to consider the first item on my agenda: finding and tracking all Infinity Loops currently in existence.”