Chapter 284. As Eternity Wills (Patreon)

Ascendant Crimson Teeth

“Can you please bring the drink closer?” Ebon Pearl asks.

“You can’t even taste it,” I point out, raising the two-beverage holder. “And you’re a snake, shouldn’t you be immune to poison, or something?”

“Hilarious.” She licks the surface of the violet drink. “That really... ah... packs a punch. Tickles between my eyes.”

“Enjoy the levity while it lasts,” I say. “Things might get out of hand by the time this is all over.”

“Not if you leave Ancient Black alone,” she says, channeling the voice of reason despite her inebriation.

“Eh.”

“Eh?” Her tone is accusatory.

I finish off the purple concoction, then swallow most of the pink side, leaving a few drops for little Pearl. I flash my teeth at Ancient Black.

“Thank you for the drink,” I say.

Black just nods.

I excuse myself, scratching Ebon Pearl under her chin as I weave through the throng of ascendants. “With respect to Black... we’ll see how events pan out.”

“If his follower competes in the tournament, Ancient Black’s going to be dragged into the main viewing box with all the other principal representatives. What are you hoping to achieve?”

“In the worst case, he’ll be thrown off balance. He might reveal more of his true intentions, and he won’t be accompanied by his helper.”

“And best case?”

“Someone will recognize him.”

“But... nobody knows who he is. Why will this change anything?”

Ancient Black is not who he appears to be.

When I acquired the recorder, I received the unique opportunity to watch Black’s recording in Regret scenarios. Other practitioners in the Hall of Ascension ran the scenarios, then shared with me via mental transmission. It’s the normal way of doing business requiring discretion.

Black was only worried about the black faction viewing the recording, not me. That’s why he gave it to me for safekeeping.

Perhaps he should have been more cautious.

“He’s a new ancient,” I point out. It’s another fact I learned from time spent in Regret scenarios, a fact that the black faction must also know by now unless they’re orders of magnitude more incompetent than I expect. “And he’s definitely using at least one artifact to change his appearance, probably more than one.” I saw his arm change color in the recording, revealing normal flesh.

His real flesh.

“Your curiosity will be your downfall,” Ebon Pearl quips bitterly. “You’d risk making an enemy by unmasking him?”

“There’s a plot afoot, little Pearl.” Not a plot spun by men, but by the will of Eternity. Ancient Black and the black faction may not even realize its extent. A dagger that can transmute the living and the inanimate into one another, and then back? Binding them to the user? It is impossible, creating something from nothing, life from inanimacy. And more specifically, the dagger forges bonds of fate with the inanimate. Our End practitioners confirm that fate arrows connect Ancient Black and the regalia he wears, the three pieces that transformed into his lich in the recording.

Eternity grants such paradoxical artifacts to those undertaking tasks beyond their limits, and usually ones that have great potential to kick the metaphorical hornet’s nest. Eternity is funny like that, craving change–and rewarding the bold–while ultimately relying on the same old cycles.

I envision the amber, the endless pool of toffee-like liquid that envelops us all and delivers us into the core of Eternity. This place needs ever more ascendants to sustain its unceasing expansion, but some ascendants are more valuable than others. Some are ambrosia, and others, poison.

It took me a long time to puzzle through that truth.

My kind of practitioner is the greatest risk. Samsara is fulfilled when we sublimate, but those possessing my affinity dwell more in the realm of possibility than reality, our minds powerful enough to dream of realms without conflict, where humanity raises itself from the dirt using ingenuity alone. Because we’re the ones who understand that the best of all possible worlds–for their inhabitants–are those without practitioners.

I’ve visited such worlds performing my duties; usually there are a few practitioners, even if they’re much rarer. In the vast constellation of existence, some of those few will reach the pinnacle and ascend, even if it’s only once in an era.

Those worlds remind me of some of the city planes in Eternity, but better. In these infinite lands, all unpowered people understand that gods walk among them with the power to level planes in seconds. Stability is an illusion.

Worlds with no practitioners at all are dead ends for Eternity’s cycle of existence. They take more than they give. Usually, the few ascendants from worlds with drastically lower practitioner densities are unprepared for the mystery of ascension and perish.

As Eternity wills.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Another question enters my mind: Just what mess has Achemiss entangled himself in again? The whole Ari assassination was already a messy business. Barely a moment passes, and an unaffiliated ancient seeks Achemiss out?

Or perhaps, the two conflicts are related. Unaffiliated–maybe not?

“It’s not your job to meddle,” Ebon Pearl hisses, interrupting my thoughts. “Just for giving Dunai that plane compass, you–”

“Shh.” I stroke her head. “I don’t regret anything I do, even when there are consequences.”

“You regret sending Ari down.”

I wince. “You can be nasty, you know that?”

“Sometimes it’s what you need.”

Sweet violet, bitter pink. “I suppose so.”

—

“You needed me?” Kaiwen asked, crossing her arms. She wasn’t physically in the executor’s office, so she knew whatever they spoke of couldn’t be related to the Darkseers.

“Something came up and I expect to be occupied for the next eight or so hours.” He sighed. “I need your help.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You know layering scenarios can create deviations. They won’t be as accurate.” It was the reason why Regret practitioners couldn’t infinitely chain their abilities.

“It’ll be fine if it’s just the two of us.”

“Why is this necessary? You’ve never asked this of me before.”

“I’m working under an... unconventional restriction,” he said. “Ask me in a scenario.”

She exhaled sharply in frustration. She hated dancing around the truth. There was only so much that could be shared in Regret scenarios due to the time limit. “I can be there in an hour to be briefed directly.”

“No, you can’t. You’ve already been spending too much time away. Zilverna needs you.”

“How generous of you.” Her tone was as cold as the ice she wielded. “But if this is important enough to call me at”–she looked at the wall clock– “three thirty-seven in the morning, I can go the extra mile and pay you a visit. It’s only for eight hours?”

“Or so.”

“Then I’ll be back home before dinner.” She tied her hair back, though a few dark, rigidly straight strands crossed her eyes. “Expect me a quarter after four.”

—

Urstes escorted Kaiwen Chowicz into the labyrinthine, repurposed dungeons beneath the Palace of Fortitude, Ichormai. Euryphel sensed their approach with his wind elementalism.

His arms draped loosely into his lap; his brow furrowed as he considered the task before him. He stood up and opened the door with fingers of wind just as Chowicz and Urstes reached the threshold.

“Welcome,” he said, the door closing behind them. He exchanged a nod with Urstes and the two of them sealed the room off, the guardian shaping the earth to remove all gaps while Euryphel created a wind barrier that would block the transmission of sound.

“Explain once in the real world,” Chowicz said, “and if I have any questions, I’ll clarify in my own Regret scenarios.”

“Very well. I need to accompany Dunai.”

Chowicz blinked. Urstes had much the same reaction earlier, when Euryphel first confided in him. Urstes knew all about Dunai’s visits using the strange artifact he acquired in Eternity. He hadn’t known until a day ago that the artifact could be used in the other direction to bring Euryphel–or anyone else–into the ascendant world.

“Why?” Chowicz asked on reflex, prompting Euryphel to continue his explanation.

“Dunai is carrying out a plan to meet with Achemiss. He will be separated from his Regret practitioner for several hours and forced to socialize and interact with potentially hundreds of practitioners. He must maintain his facade as the enigmatic Ancient Black.” He knew that Chowicz wouldn’t know anything about ‘Ancient Black’, but she could ask all the questions she wanted in scenarios to fill the gaps in her knowledge.

“He will be surrounded by practitioners that will be probing him in scenarios left and right. One misstep may cause everything to crash down on the charade, and spoil Black’s chance to meet Achemiss. Unfortunately, Dunai can only use his transmission artifact to summon people that he has already met, and all other contacts with Regret affinity in Eternity are known members of the white faction and would reveal his affiliation.”

“So, he needs to use a Regret practitioner from his home world,” Chowicz finished.

Euryphel nodded. “We may not be ascendants, but we aren’t weak.”

“You volunteered to help, I take it?”

Euryphel paused. “The three strongest Regret practitioners that he knows are me, you, and Iucorsu”–the Mountain and Regret practitioner that Ian defeated in the championship duel at the Fassari Summit. “Iucorsu has the highest affinity, but he’s never worked with Ian before, and the same goes for you. Ian is used to working with me. Ultimately, that’s most important.”

“Dunai’s allies couldn’t just send another Regret practitioner to his side?”

“Not soon enough,” Euryphel replied. “And not without arousing suspicion. Dunai is supposed to be unaffiliated.”

“I see,” Chowicz concluded. “And how do I fit into your plan?”

“The transmission artifact has a glaring flaw–when I’m transmitting, I cannot use my affinity. I can begin a Regret scenario before activating the item, but there’s no way to commence a scenario after joining Ian’s side. What I need to be able to do is cut off the transmission whenever Dunai senses that we’re in someone else’s Regret scenario, then start scenarios of my own to optimize Dunai’s response.”

Chowicz’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her. “You won’t remember what you’ve seen if I’m the one running scenarios,” she pointed out.

Euryphel flashed her a smile. “Then it’s a good thing that I’m an efficient interrogator. Besides, I won’t need you to run scenarios continuously. Mostly when we’re stuck in other ascendants’ Regret scenarios, and due to the nature of the beast, neither of us will remember those scenarios, anyway.”

Her long eyelashes fluttered. She looked down, her arms crossed over her chest. “When do we start?”

—

I groan into the mirror. The Hall of Ascension offered hundreds of furnished guest quarters underneath the competition grounds. Some ascendants planned their own accommodations, heading to nearby planes, but I saw no reason to make things more complicated when the guest rooms are safely sealed off from one another. Holiday ensured that they’d been warded with End arrays and other physical insulators.

Maria confirmed Holiday’s words using her fate sight. Someone could meddle with the arrays, but she’d know immediately.

For now, we’re safe from observers. Even so, Maria refrains from assuming her humanoid form. Ascendants could attack our room in Regret scenarios, forcing their way in and catching us off guard.

It’s better to be cautious and safe.

I hold up the transmission artifact in one hand and the dagger in the other. The dagger glows with cobalt energy and I slash it against the artifact, transforming it. I activate it while thinking of Euryphel and the former prince appears behind me. He’s wearing robes that match my own, pure black with a blue-green brooch clasp that matches his eyes. He’d had them custom made in a handful of hours.

I smile. “Eury.”

He grins back. “At your service, august ancient.” He peers at the crown of embers. “And lovely lich.”

I roll my eyes. “Welcome to my humble chambers.”