Chapter 320. To Achemiss (Patreon)

Even if I lacked complete control over my body, I wouldn’t be panting. The fight lasted less than two seconds–that’s not enough time to work up a sweat.

Only my Beginning affinity, weak as it is and further dampened by the omnipresent black rock, had allowed me to execute my strategy, reacting faster than my opponents.

My hand still hovers over the space that previously held Harka’s head. As the audience at the rim of the stad processes what just happened, Lucinda and Harka reappear nearby, their gazes scrutinizing.

The fragment of necromantic black rock falls from the space where Lucinda died. I bend down and snatch it before it sinks into the lake. Other artifacts like the noose have already impacted the water, deactivating and falling down after the two women died.

Sindragos descends from the rim like a diver, kicking off the air just before impacting the ground. As he pivots, he flies over the water’s surface and it all turns to glass-like ice, freezing the sinking artifacts in place. They then float to the surface like balloons in air, as though the ice isn’t solid.

Soon enough, the artifacts pop out of the ice. Lucinda and Harka gingerly pick them up.

“The void storages?” Lucinda says, holding out her hand.

I chuckle and throw them her way; they scatter like pebbles. Orbs of water emerge from the ice and engulf each storage artifact before flying to Lucinda and Harka. In moments, the artifacts are neatly put away.

“You were quite thorough, Ancient Black,” Sindragos says, his eyes shining. “It’s as you said when we first met–given time to prepare, you’re formidable.”

I simply cross my arms.

“How did you use the black rock like that?” Harka asks, her eyebrows furrowing together. “I felt the presence of a soul within the shard you handed me, but that doesn’t explain how you summoned the spectral rocks to incapacitate us.”

I smile thinly. “If I discerned the technique in less than a week, I’m sure the black faction can replicate my success in time.”

My guess is that the black faction has had more uses for the black rock, but they’ve been lost to time. For instance, the citadel’s construction is a feat that would be difficult without some method of bypassing the rock’s dampening properties. Moreover, I refuse to believe that I’m the first person who ever tried investing a soul into the unique material.

The discovery brings another question to mind–what kinds of knowledge are shared and passed down, and what kinds are lost? Do ascendants naturally outgrow factions and organizations over time, venturing off on their own to plumb the secrets of Eternity? Or perhaps they seek early ends. If their home worlds are still around, with the backing of a faction, they can obtain return beacons. Otherwise, they can follow in the footsteps of Floria.

“We have seen enough,” Sindragos continues. “We will take you to Achemiss.”

“When?” I ask. The shadowy projections of Death energy I keep around myself swell in a way that I hope is intimidating.

Sindragos bows his head. “As early as you desire.”

I snort. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Then we’ll leave. For being so cooperative, we’ll allow you and your protégé to go back on your own without an escort.”

Wow, what generosity, Maria thinks, her thoughts acerbic.

Sindragos departs first, followed by the rest of the black faction members. Soon, only me and Red remain. He’s stayed on the rim of the stad, waiting for me to come up.

We go on a walk over the rugged plain. In the far distance, vertical lines of water, thin as threads, cascade to the earth. Even Maria regains her human form and strolls along next to us, her hand grasped in mine. Out of caution, black Death energy covers her upper face like a mask.

Even though there are no observers, and I don’t notice the presence of any technology that might spy on our movements or record our conversations, we all agree to speak only mentally.

“You really managed to pull it off,” Red says, shaking his head incredulously. I hadn’t informed him of the specifics of my plan, saying that he’d have to see it himself.

“I knew going into this challenge that I would need to overwhelm the black faction,” I remind him.

He scoffs. “I’m aware, but you–you went a little bit above and beyond, I think. Whatever you did with the black rock, summoning it like that, practically flabbergasted them.”

The tips of my ears redden. “Well, if they suspected I wasn’t as powerful as they assumed, then they might not take me to meet Achemiss. After all, if I botch my attempt at stealing his most powerful artifact, the faction will suffer a huge setback.”

It makes sense to me, Maria interjects. He needed to prove–beyond a shadow of doubt–that he is who he says he is. The enigmatic Ancient Black, powerful, brilliant, and unafraid. There’s no way they doubt that now after you leveraged the black faction’s own special material–the black rock–against them.

“I suppose that’s true,” Red agrees. “So–how did you do it?”

I hold up the black rock shard. “This material interferes with everything imbued with affinity, including void storages. Souls, however, are different. I could imbue the black rock with souls and control them with necromancy.”

“Even so, the rocks interfered with your Death affinity,” Red states. “I saw your initial experiments–you could control the rocks when they were close to you, but with distance, your hold over them faltered.”

“That’s why this”–I wave the shard–“is the key.” I pause to consider my words, my gaze lifting to the azure sky. “Our souls aren’t physically here. They’re impossibly distant, and yet they connect our current avatars to our true bodies. Which made me realize–the distance itself is irrelevant. Moreover, the black rock has no impact on that connection. Isn’t that remarkable?”

Red smiles, an expression tinged by bitterness. “It is.”

“Long story short, I can leverage this little shard to manifest a collection of rocks connected by a single soul. It’s not perfect in this first iteration–the rocks are quasi projections, so they aren’t as potent–but I’m quite satisfied.”

Red clasps his hands behind his back. “Most of the protégés didn’t understand why Ash took such interest in you, myself included. When you came back an ancient after only a few years spent in dilated time, you proved that his attention was warranted. I was excited to accompany you on your mission.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve watched how you operate over the time we’ve shared, just over a month, and it’s really only now...” He trails off, then shakes his head. “Look... if you lose, Eternity will be worse off. Don’t die. And when you come back–you will come back–don’t be naive.”

“What concerns you?” I ask.

“I don’t need to read minds to know what the black faction members are all thinking. After you bring the artifact back from Achemiss, they won’t want you to leave, not after you showed them a novel way to manipulate the black rock.”

They won’t have a choice, Maria says. He’s leaving Eternity, and when he comes back, he can just avoid the black faction if they seek him out. Even if they’re persistent, the white faction can offer him protection.

“It’s not as though the black faction has treated me poorly,” I state. They were somewhat overbearing, but despite my skepticism, they never seemed deceitful. Even the intelligence I gathered by spying on them was freely shared hours later. “If they were desperate for my help, I would offer it in return for equal payment. I’m not even an official member of the white faction, so I’m not double-crossing anyone.”

Red, who is an official white faction member, cocks his head. “I thought that by now you’d have picked a side.”

I’ve spoken about this with Maria. We both agree that there’s little benefit for me to pledge allegiance to one faction over the other, especially since my working identity, Ancient Black, is supposed to be unaffiliated. Karanos and the white faction have been good to me, and I will help them, but I think I can provide them most benefit by remaining untethered. For instance, I was only able to get Red a spot in the Hall of Ascension because Holiday thought that as my protégé, he was unaffiliated.

I can be like Messeras, Cayeun Suncloud, or even Karanos’s friend Marina, whom we met when Karanos took us on a vacation river cruise.

I rub my fingers over the kite-shaped piece of black rock. “We can discuss my decision later. For now, let’s just enjoy the time we have.”

After all, none of this matters if I don’t survive. I’ve prepared well, but even Achemiss’s own faction can only guess at the extent of his current capabilities.

I’ve made peace with it–as much as I can, given the circumstances. Achemiss must die to ensure the longevity of my home world, and I’m the only one who can separate him from Eternity’s protection.

Depending on how far Achemiss’s plane is, this could be one of the last few planes I ever see before our confrontation. Looking over my shoulder at the vast canyon of the stad and the massive halos of water beyond, I only have one thought: At least it’s a beautiful one.

—

I stand in my bed chambers. Red is there, his eyes sunken, as though he’s sleep deprived. It only enhances his bookish air.

“It’s been fun, Red,” I mentally transmit.

“It really has,” he replies, his expression melancholic.

The plan was never for Red to accompany me to see Achemiss. He was merely my excuse for attending the Hall of Ascension’s trial.

I sigh. “Lonely roads, long travels, sound mind.”

“Long travels,” Red replies with a sad smile. “At least long enough for you to finally master all your affinities. Maybe even long enough to add more.”

We pull each other into a hug.

Farewell, Red, Maria thinks, her mental voice playful to offset the seriousness of the occasion. Don’t forget to think of me on your lonely roads.

Red chuckles and gives one of my silver bracers a rub.

A knock sounds on the door and the stone shifts, opening the passage.

It’s time.

—

Ascendant Sindragos stands on the thumb of Starbreak, flanked by Ascendant Lucinda and the wind elementalist Ascendant Cursory.

Sindragos won’t be coming with us–his place is in Starbreak, just as Kuin’s domain is Voidkeep.

I face the trio in expectation. “I’m prepared.” At least as much as I can be. The shard of ensouled black rock rests in a pouch on my belt.

Sindragos nods. “Lucinda and Cursory will lead you to Achemiss’s plane. The journey is somewhat treacherous, but your guides are skilled.”

“I’ve faced worse,” I say coolly. I don’t know if that’s true, but between traversing planes at the edge of Eternity and exploring the lost quadrant, the way to Achemiss can’t be too bad.

After our brief exchange, Cursory moves first, his wind spiriting him toward the stad–the opposite side of the plane from which we entered. We go much further until we shoot straight into the void. The benefits of traveling with a wind elementalist are numerous, and Cursory’s ability to keep our group oxygenated as we travel is standout among them.

How interesting, Maria exclaims mentally. I was wondering how they’d find the way to Achemiss.

Do you know how they’re navigating? They seem to know exactly which direction to go even though there are no landmarks.

A network of beacons, placed like buoys, guide the way.

Powered by End affinity?

Yes. I don’t see end arrows flowing from Lucinda or Cursory toward anything. Instead, there are two small objects on their chests, possibly pendants that hang under their clothes. End arrows, faint but there, streak from them to a point far in the distance.

Maria only senses one supposed navigation buoy, but her conclusion is reasonable. Assuming that Achemiss’s plane is remote, a single navigation point would be insufficient to guide the way.

Our conjecture is proven correct two days later. We’ve spent nearly the entire time in the void, only occasionally cutting the veil into seemingly random planes for breaks.

I was wondering why they weren’t going straight toward the buoy, but instead traveling at an oblique angle, Maria says suddenly, breaking the silence of my mind. If someone stole one of their pendants, they would be able to travel to the buoy, which is a risk. Instead, they strictly use the buoy as a reference point to reach a different location where the two buoys overlap.

Before she gets the chance to explain further, Lucinda gestures for us to slow down. She slices the veil, but there’s only a bed of churning lava, so she tugs it shut. Cursory also sunders the surroundings, creating five different tears; he and Lucinda deem one of them, a plane with overcast skies and yellow grass, suitable.

“We’ll wait here for five hours or so,” Lucinda says, offering no further explanation.

The hours pass quickly. Throughout the break, Cursory leaves the plane every half hour. Just before the five-hour mark, the silver-haired man spends a prolonged period outside. Suddenly, the veil splits. Cursory lands lightly on the straw-colored grass and nods to Lucinda, who informs us it’s time to get going.

When we slip into the void, Maria notes with some surprise that the signal is much fainter than it was before. For the first few minutes of the journey, the signal further diminishes. However, fifteen minutes in, it starts regaining strength.

After eight hours, when the signal is at its most powerful, it begins to wane.

It’s periodic, I state.

We don’t stop for more than five minutes at a time on this leg of the journey, and Cursory keeps our speed consistent with his elementalism, pushing us rapidly along by cycling the air like a wheel.

After five full revolutions of waxing and waning, Maria sees another pair of End arrows connecting the pendants with an unseen navigation buoy.

Lucinda suddenly spins in the air to face me. “We won’t be accompanying you any further.”

Cursory gazes into the darkness with apprehension. “We will point you the way; you need to go straight, unerring, until you are collected. Achemiss knows to expect you.”

Lucinda inclines her head to me, then speaks out loud, Cursory’s elementalism allowing for normal speech even in the void. “You are a force of chaos, Ancient Black. I don’t fully understand what you’re hoping to gain from Achemiss, but I bid you good luck.”

Cursory speaks next. He’s always been uncomfortable around me, so he keeps his words short. “Lonely roads, long travels, sound mind.”

The two of them point the way one more time, then backtrack, leaving me behind.

Final stretch, I think. Let’s make it count.