Chapter 275. Charting a Path (Patreon)

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Using the ring of flesh shift and my dagger artifact, I’ve created a sufficiently different appearance. I thought the onlookers’ confidence would grow, but their questions only increase.

“When you die, your metamorphosis fades,” Karanos says. He’s speaking from experience–I transformed myself with the dagger during numerous training sessions, and whenever I died, I came back as my normal self. “In its absence, it’s much more obvious that you’re using a ring of flesh shift to assume avian features. You also have a much stronger resemblance to your true self.”

Why does he sound so dismissive? I direct my thoughts toward Crystal. “Has he always sounded like this?”

“He has,” the fish replies. “When he spoke before, he was right. But now...” She trails off.

I sense the warmth of a smile through my bond with Maria. Show Karanos. Show them all that they don’t have a reason to doubt.

Their advice buoys my spirit. “Test me, then.” I level a piercing look at Karanos and spread my arms wide in invitation, literally courting death.

“Fine.” Karanos lances a column of searing light through my head, killing me instantly and thankfully without pain.

Reappearing after death is always disorienting since I appear where I was ten minutes in the past. We’ve been experimenting in this plaza for longer than that, but I still spawn a few feet away from where I died. Maria hovers in the air as though garbing a ghost, gravity not yet having enough time to plummet her regalia form to the ground.

In the infinitesimal moment of my reappearance, I snatch away the dagger’s transformative energy. I don’t take enough for Maria to revert back into a humanoid form–just enough to metamorphose myself for a second. That second of stolen metamorphosis is sufficiently long for me to reclaim the dagger, stab myself, and channel its energy into my body, refreshing the metamorphosis effect.

I walk over and Maria settles over me. Without my presence the armor falls to the ground; but as I approach, the armor responds by hovering up and settling over me, the bracers snapping into place, the crown alighting above my hair, and the cloak wreathing my shadowy wings in flame.

The entire process takes less than a second, but of course Karanos is frowning. “You can’t just stab yourself whenever you come back. What if the dagger is blown out of reach, or what if Maria is too far for you to steal energy from upon first reappearing?”

Before I can muster a response, Kuin jumps in. “Also, there’s a short period after you return when you aren’t transformed. It’s the barest of instants, but anyone with good enough reflexes who’s paying attention will notice. You’ll need to practice mitigating that issue as well.”

The ascendants all nod their agreement, their eyes appraising. I suppose they’re all correct, but their criticisms irk me. Maria and I worked for a significant length of time on a technique to minimize the downtime on my transformation. In spite of that, Karanos and other ascendants only point out faults.

I can’t tell if the ascendants notice my exasperation–Karanos should, at least–but Pyre must not care either way. “If anyone sees that your ascendant energy is blue, rather than red, nobody will believe it,” she points out. “Ancients don’t have blue ascendant energy.”

Their concern is cute, Maria transmits mentally, but it has no teeth–they only bring minor complaints. You need to shake your frustration off. You know what you can do. I know what you can do.

What we can do, I reply.

I sense Crystal’s excitement bubbling over into a vehement, “Show them!” I suppress a smile; the fish sure enjoys knowing more than everyone else about my capabilities.

Alright, I reply, appeasing her. “I don’t think Pyre’s concerns will be a problem if the black faction ascendants can’t see my energy at all. Don’t forget that I originally learned from Karanos, one of the best ascendants I’ve seen with respect to controlling ascendant energy. You never see a red glow unless he wants you to.”

Karanos’s eyes narrow. “You’re saying you can contain your energy completely, even to do something like piercing the veil?”

“I’m not quite as good as you, but I cheat.” Cobalt blue energy forms in my hand. It would be visible as a faint blue glow were my skin thin and pale, but my transformed dermis hides the coloration. When I bring the energy to my fingers to cut the sky, Maria controls some of the fire from the cloak-wings to cover my fingertips, obscuring the tiny visible signature of cobalt.

Karanos hums in consideration. “You improved your control significantly, but if you’re going to be competing, hiding the color of your energy will be harder.”

I don’t know what I expected–surprise? Wonder at my fast progress? But Karanos is taking my new skills in stride and incorporating them into our plans. Y’jeni, I’m looking for validation, aren’t I? But I shouldn’t need it.

Karanos continues, saying, “That’s why you shouldn’t bother with a competition at all. An unaffiliated ancient wouldn’t try to join a faction, anyway–it’s suspicious. The black faction would question your motives.”

I collect my thoughts. “Fine–I see your point. Let’s scratch the part about joining black faction. Instead, let’s say I’m trying to find a rare artifact in possession of the black faction, an artifact I only heard of because of the recruitment call.”

“Or, you previously knew of an ascendant named Achemiss and had been trying to find him,” Crystal suggests. “When you heard Achemiss’s name in association with the black faction, you seized the opportunity to meet him.”

I nod along. “That’s even better.” Crystal’s scenario sounds plausible.

“Unfortunately, there’s no way to know how events will unfold,” Farona says, voice serious. “The faction may not react well to an unknown ancient’s sudden interest in an up-and-coming necromancer crafter. They might refuse to let you see him entirely, especially since they know that our white faction is out for Achemiss’s blood.”

I agree with Pyre, Maria mentally remarks. They’d be fools not to scrutinize your background and intentions. They may treat you magnanimously to your face, but they’ll be watching your every word and action.

“I confess that I’m most concerned about Regret practitioners,” I say, both to address Maria’s point and the others. “They’ll be able to poke and prod me all they want in Regret scenarios and I’ll be none the wiser.”

Karanos nods. “Another reason why I don’t think actually participating in a competition is a good idea. Regret affinity is an excellent tool for calling people’s bluffs by pushing them to the limit. They’d quickly learn that you’re not a many-thousands-of-years-old ancient.”

I chuckle bitterly. “I’m not exactly worried about being pushed to my limits in combat; rather, what if a Remorse practitioner scours my mind in a Regret scenario, breaking past my mental defenses?

Crystal interjects: “Your Remorse affinity is still developing, but can cut me out. Empowered by your cobalt ascendant energy, you should be able to secure your mind against most intrusions.”

I shake my head, thinking of Cayeun Suncloud. I wouldn’t be able to keep her out if she tried to ravage my mind. “What about mental intrusions I can’t fight off?”

Pyre barks a laugh. “Then you fight ‘em off harder–you don’t have a choice. But you’re already thinking too far ahead. Forget Remorse practitioners. What if you reveal something in a Regret scenario out of carelessness? All it takes is one slip, and a peak Regret practitioner can run countless scenarios in an hour.”

Kuin sighs. “All this speculation is pointless. I think the only course of action is to send a Regret practitioner to accompany Dunai to the black faction. It won’t be foolproof, but at least running scenarios will give Dunai more leeway to make correct social choices and bluff his way to Achemiss.”

Kuin’s words are the most reasonable suggestion so far. I turn to Karanos. “What is your opinion?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “This business makes me uneasy. Uncertainties layered over uncertainties, both regarding your abilities and the way that black faction will respond to you.”

Krath Mandur crosses his arms. “Whatever way the chips fall, I hope you’re good at bluffing, Ascendant Dunai. You’ll be needing to do a lot of it if you follow this path.”

I want to say that their doubts don’t affect me, but they rub me the wrong way, stirring a kernel of indignation in my chest.

See it from their eyes, Maria says. You are an ancient, but mostly just a necromancer with a few weak parlor tricks stolen from other affinities.

Her words sting, but I can see the truth in them. I’m not a peak Beginning or Remorse practitioner.

They have not seen you fight since the battle with the centipede, she continues. They know you are strong in combat, but as for assuming a new identity and infiltrating an organization to assassinate one of its rising stars...

I want this plan to work–need it to work. Bluffing my way to Achemiss is my best chance at getting him when he’s most vulnerable–removed from his personal stronghold.

“How long do we have until I need to leave?” I ask.

“The competition to enter the ranks of the Hall of Ascension will commence in six weeks,” Kuin explains. “The Hall has marked several convergence points scattered throughout Eternity. At these points, space distorts and ascendants can travel for a short distance to reach the same competition grounds.”

I raise my eyebrows. “When did you first learn of the competition?”

Kuin laughs. “Four days ago. For some reason the information was slow to reach us. You must understand, Dunai, that the factions aren’t actually large.”

Most ascendants don’t care about trials and the complexities behind bringing more ascendants into Eternity. It isn’t their problem. They’re like Messeras, searching for meaning in their immortal existence. They don’t burden themselves with the affairs of mortal worlds.

Kuin continues his explanation: “Eternity is infinite and its ascendants are innumerable. We don’t have ascendants in every city, though we try to have a presence in some of the larger, more connected metropolises to keep a metaphorical finger on the pulse of the planes. Unfortunately, we heard of the competition ten days later than its announcement, and that matters.”

I cock my head. “Does it?”

Kuin gestures to Karanos and the Light practitioner manifests a complex, multidimensional map of planes. The small, white circles look almost like shining mirrors hung on a black tapestry.

“You’re not even a Beginning practitioner,” Kuin grumbles.

Karanos flashes him a smile before turning back to me. “This map is an abstraction, but I’m trying to represent the distances between the planes as accurately as possible.” Suddenly, eleven planes–each as tiny as a pinhead–glow red. They’re all situated at the far edges of the map. A larger circle–this one as big as my thumb–glows green at the map’s center. My Beginning affinity isn’t needed to understand the obvious, and my mind draws automatic connections between the planes, charting paths from each of the red nodes to the green at the center.

Karanos looks at me expectantly.

“The red are the confluence points, and the green is the competition grounds. Where are we located on the map now?”

Suddenly the map zooms out, revealing a tesseract of planes criss-crossing in shifting constellation. A plane at the periphery glows yellow like a miniature sun. Only three red confluence points appear viable, and my Beginning affinity struggles to determine the best path given the expanded scope of the map. I shift my head to see more of the planescape, trying to keep the non-linear distances straight.

What’s crazy is that I know that Karanos’s representation is probably a gross simplification of reality. That he can attempt to represent the distances between so many planes at all is mind-boggling.

“These are the planes that I know of,” Karanos says. “There should be others that our faction’s ascendants haven’t discovered. It’s still enough to chart a path.”

A green, yarn-like spool of light coils over a subset of planes, extending from the blue marker toward one of the red confluence points. I narrow my eyes, mentally comparing my charted path with Karanos’s. Our paths are the same in the beginning, but deviate after the fifteenth plane and only come back together five planes before the confluence point.

Seeing Karanos’s path sends my Beginning affinity into overdrive. I catalog his choices, reverse-engineering the why behind his choice of path. I may have grown stronger, but I’m not going to pit my novice Beginning affinity against Karanos’s seasoned brilliance.

“To get from here to the competition grounds will take a solid week of travel, and more if you get lost. To be safe, I’d leave in four weeks.”

So we have a month to shore up some of the weaknesses that the ascendants pointed out. Honestly... I wish it were shorter. I’m so tired of training.

A month is better than the years more of training that Karanos proposed, Maria says. We’re so close.

Crystal trots over from her place among the spectating ascendants, rubbing her head against my leg. You approach the finish line. Do not rush or you might trip.