Chapter 312. New Escort (Patreon)

“Show me?” the man with the deep voice, Sindragos, says. “Go on, then.”

The room descends into silence; presumably, Lucinda shares her memories of the competition with those gathered. Where a peak Remorse practitioner would normally be able to rapidly impart memories, the black rock’s interference slows the rate of transmission. A solid two minutes passes before conversation rekindles.

“Can you explain what we just saw?” Sindragos asks.

“Black has a way to resist Dark energy,” Lucinda states.

Realization dawns on me. That’s what they’re interested in? I could resist Meng and Mordika’s Dark attacks, but not very well; I sustained catastrophic damage. I don’t understand why they would care.

“It’s not a property of his ascendant energy that protects him, of that much I am certain,” Lucinda continues. “I think he may have extensively modified his own body, lacing it with materials that have special properties, like the rock that composes Starbreak.”

Her theory is intriguing. It’s wrong, but the overall idea might not be. The Blade of Revelation transforms my skin, turning it dark and rugged. Perhaps the material properties of my altered skin resist Dark attacks. I would need to analyze my skin directly to be certain, but for now I lack the kind of equipment and expertise to do so.

Perhaps when I return home, I’ll find answers. Scientists would no doubt clamber to analyze samples from a returned ascendant.

A set of fingers drums on the table. “It is enough for him to survive an initial attack intended to assassinate?” Sindragos inquires.

“Yes. But if that was all, I wouldn’t have brought this topic forward,” Lucinda says. “Black forced an incorporeal Dark practitioner to physically manifest and then kill himself with his own Dark affinity.”

“Is that what we saw in your memories?” the low alto asks, her voice soft. “It was difficult to understand what happened; you stood at a distance.”

“I’ll show you all again,” Lucinda promises. A few seconds later, she says, “Now you have seen it twice. Do you need to see it again, or can we move forward?”

“Whom did he attack?” the man with a tenor voice asks. “I did not recognize the Dark practitioner.

Lucinda’s voice is strong as she replies, “The victor of the competition, Ascendent Meng.”

“Let me make sure I fully understand the matter,” Sindragos interrupts. “Ancient Black resisted the Dark onslaught of Ascendant Meng–the victor of the competition–twice over. He counterattacked by hijacking Meng’s own affinity, causing Meng’s death.”

“That is accurate,” Lucinda says.

“You did not attack him?” Sindragos wonders, though his voice sounds almost accusatory. “You are a Dark practitioner; did you not think to test yourself against him?”

Lucinda’s response is slow, drawn out. “I did attack him, though was unable to face him one-on-one.” She sighs. “I believe that Ascendant Crimson Teeth is… displeased with us after the Ari business. He personally killed me whenever I approached.”

“Ascendant Crimson Teeth fought with Ancient Black?”

“They fought together, along with Black’s protégé, Ascendant Red.”

“The one you said was Crimson Teeth’s hand-picked, albeit unofficially, victor,” Sindragos drawls. “I have heard enough; I wish to see this mysterious new ancient myself before further deliberating on the Achemiss issue.”

“Black is in his chambers, ready to receive you,” Lucinda says. “Shall I inform Ascendant Cursory?“

“Don’t bother,” Sindragos states, his voice firm. “I am escort enough. If what I’ve heard–and experienced–about Ancient Black is even half true, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had methods of avoiding a typical chaperone, even a wind elementalist like Cursory. No–he needs a closer, more discerning eye on him at all times until we understand the business with Achemiss that drew him to the competition in the first place, as well as his larger motivations and whether they align with ours.” He smirks. “Since your delegation failed to discern them in so many weeks.”

People stir, rising from their seats. It’s my cue to leave. I mentally end the transmission artifact’s effect and snap back to my body, rousing with a gasp.

“He’s awake,” Maria says. The bone mask remains on her face and my spider constructs are active, confirming that within Starbreak, so long as I maintain physical proximity–even if unconscious–my Death energy will continue to function according to my will.

Red meets my gaze and mentally asks, “What did you learn? You were gone for a while.”

I give him and Maria a wry grin. “More than I expected.”

—

As I wrap up my explanation, Red’s gaze is inscrutable. Finally, he remarks, “You should contact Karanos as soon as you get a free moment–after Ascendant Sindragos comes for you, that is.”

I nod my assent. “Leave us.”

Once Red retreats into his own room, I turn to Maria. What do you think about all this?

I need more information, she states, grabbing my hand. There is much we still do not understand regarding the black faction and its overall aims. Despite their names, the factions are not morally black or white. Karanos is a complicated man, and Ash… well, if I judged him based on what he’s done to his home world, the man is evil.

I recall the original explanation we heard from Holiday back when we first entered Eternity–perhaps the only explanation I’ve heard from someone unaffiliated with either faction. The white faction seeks to facilitate stability, the black faction chaos, both with the goal of producing ascendants that further the will of Eternity.

Lucinda and her cohort do not seem to have ill intentions. They did assassinate Ari, but I don’t doubt that the white faction would seize an opportunity to assassinate members of the black faction if the opportunity presented itself.

I don’t fully understand the enmity between the black and white factions, I tell Maria. Maybe after spending some time in Starbreak, I’ll finally understand what makes the two factions irreconcilable… why they cannot simply work in a careful balance, facilitating stability and chaos as appropriate.

You know, Ian… there is an organization that forces them to do that.

The Hall of Ascension.

Yes, she says. You do realize what you just said?

What?

Why they cannot facilitate stability and chaos… as appropriate?

My Beginning is broken. Just tell me.

It’s obvious by now that the point of Discardia was to unlearn established ways of thinking, embracing good judgment and making reasonable decisions. I think Holiday feels the same way as you.

Why can’t everyone just get along? I muse, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles.

She smiles. It’s how you felt back on our home world.

I roll my eyes. ‘Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?’ I joke, speaking as my past self just escaped from the Infinity Loop. My tone is lighthearted, but I can’t hide a small amount of pain from coloring my thoughts.

Maria’s expression falls, her thoughts bitter. Human nature.

So those with power are doomed? I ask her. Doomed to be bothered?

Doomed unless they hide or distance themselves, like Messeras, or those ancients that the black faction hasn’t heard from in millennia.

Or unless they’re unapproachable, I state, thinking of Ash’s reputation. But in all cases, never quite free, even with all the power they could ever want.

Maria plants a kiss on my cheek, her mask tickling my skin. As I said, human nature. Weak and strong, young and old…

Very old, I interject slyly.

We’re all human, even if we try hard to forget it.

I smirk and poke her chest. Even if we shed the shackles of mortality altogether.

Suddenly, a deep, echoing grating sound emanates from beyond. The passageway to our rooms begins to shift, the rock receding to grant passage.

Red opens his door and returns to my room. “Are you going to keep her separate?”

I frown. If I knew for certain that Sindragos planned to remain within Starbreak, I wouldn’t have cause for concern. But if he plans to test my abilities, something tells me he’ll venture beyond the walls of the massive black fist where our powers won’t be dampened. Without the black rock’s suppressive effect, I’ll need Maria to resume her regalia form.

Sensing the direction of my thoughts, Maria fishes for the Blade of Revelation on my belt and points it at her own chest. “It’s fine,” she assures me, then stabs herself. A moment later, the regalia floats onto my body, the bracers locking onto my wrists, the cape adorning the undersides of the spectral wings on my back, and the circlet of embers bobbing over my head.

Red gives me a thumbs up. “You look the part.”

A knock sounds on the threshold between my door and the now empty hallway.

“Enter,” I call out.

The door slides into the rock to reveal a tall man in light blue and lavender robes, his eyes a startling cyan. His hair is the color of ink with the faintest sheen of violet. Part of his hair hangs long over his shoulders, while the other half is tied up behind his head, creating a layered effect that frames his cheekbones.

“Ancient Black,” he says, his lips curling as though in amusement or interest, matching his tone. “You honor us with your presence. I am Sindragos, the keeper of Starbreak.”

Is he almost like Kuin’s equivalent? Maria wonders.

“Am I permitted to leave, now?” I ask, probing for his reaction. I need to be respectful, of course, but not too respectful–especially when I know that the black faction wants my help. I know that they’re testing me through this interaction.

One thing is certain: I cannot allow them to think I am an equal just because I am a new ancient.

I’m not sure I accomplished that in my interactions with Lucinda, as she was quick to pick up on my lacking Remorse affinity and even gave me pointers. I seem to have intimidated her well enough in the melee concluding the competition, but I still get the impression that she sees me as another ascendant–a man, rather than an untouchable force of nature people associate with Ancient Ash.

“I will replace Ascendant Cursory as your escort,” Sindragos says. He looks past me at the bone spiders covering the room. They cover traces of Maria’s End arrays, so unless Sindragos has an End affinity, he shouldn’t notice them. “Your protégé should remain here until the evening meal. If we are not back by then, Cursory will come.”

Sindragos turns and walks down the corridor, evidently expecting me to follow.

With Sindragos’s attention off the room, I deconstruct the bone constructs. Hundreds of bone pieces and all the small soul gems soundlessly stream into the void storage pouch on my belt.

We return to the atrium of the thumb. The floor is made of colored gray and light blue lacquer, with organic but symmetric swirls reminiscent of an iris blossom. Sindragos jumps onto the wall and runs several steps up it before a hole appears in the surface. He treads into the opening.

I jump off the ground and use my practice to control my flight, following closely through the tunnel. The interior is slick and cold, iced over. Sindragos glides over its surface with his feet, seemingly unbothered by the impossibility of riding ice to ascend a steep tunnel.

We emerge on the top of the thumb. Immediately my affinities return to me, bringing with them the heady euphoria of becoming whole. Sindragos appears unaffected by the transition, so I maintain my stoicism.

“You transition well,” Sindragos remarks, his eyes searching the distance.

“What are your intentions?” I ask bluntly.

“Lucinda told me you’re unfamiliar with the purpose of the black faction. Before we can do business, you must understand us, and us, you.”

I’m not sure I’m going to like this.

[ book 5 is out on amazon :o

https://mybook.to/TheBladeofRevelation ]