Caladin’s Climb—Part 31 (Patreon)

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          “Wake up,” Caladin said. He slapped Hakan on the side of the face. Not enough to hurt, just to get his attention. Hakan’s eyes shot open.

          “What you do to me?” Hakan demanded. “Ssleep again and again. Alwayss ssleep.”

          “I know, I know,” Caladin said. “It’s very annoying. But I’m all done now. I’m grateful for your patience. Not that you had a choice in the matter. Take a look.”

          Looking was all Hakan was capable of doing. For this final loop, he was merely being restrained with kinomancy. Caladin wanted him to enjoy the show.

          “What iss looking?” Hakan asked.

          “Give it a second,” Caladin said. “There. See that?”

          A small dragon-kin child appeared at the edge of arena. She looked around for a moment, then started crying.

          “A child,” Hakan said. “Iss that what looking?”

          “There’s more,” Caladin told him.

          A soldier appeared a moment later, took the child by the hand, and both of them disappeared. Then all at once, the arena was surrounded. Soldiers dressed in armor, ready to fight, appeared around the circle. Most of them were dragon-kin of various colors, but a few were eldrin. They drew their weapons and began hacking away at the edge of the circle.

          “What iss thiss?” Hakan demanded.

          “So, as it turns out, dreams exist outside of time,” Caladin explained, trying to sound casual. “So trapping me in this loop gave me an infinite amount of time to manipulate the dreams of everyone sleeping. It took me a while—as I’m sure you recall—but I was able to invade the dreams of quite a few people. Everyone you see is someone I controlled with oneiromancy.”

          Hakan’s eyes darted between the different soldiers surrounding the arena. “Iss many,” he said.

          “They’re technically all me,” Caladin said. “Different versions of me, from different loops. I’m controlling them all. It’s a little confusing with the way the changes propagate, but technically this is all happening at the same time. Your spell turned out to be rather interesting, and I learned quite a bit about oneiromancy, but now it’s time to end it. Oh look, the royal guard are about to show up.”

          “Iss pointlesss,” Hakan said. “Cannot end loop.”

          “Just watch and wait,” Caladin cautioned him.

          Right on cue, a contingent of Emperor Kalokai’s royal guard sprinted up to the circle to try to put a stop to the madness they were witnessing. They tried to talk to the sleepwalking soldiers and servants. It was a waste of time, but they at least tried. When they realized talking was pointless, they started prying the sleepwalkers away from their mindless attacks. Swords, spears, shovels; whatever had been at hand clanged against the Time Loop’s barrier. One by one the royal guard dragged the sleepers away. They didn’t fight back. Not because it wasn’t possible or because it wouldn’t have helped Caladin for them to resist. They didn’t fight back because Caladin’s reaction speed was abysmal outside the loop. Any small attempts to fight back as they were pulled away were easily handled by the guards. Their hands were bound and they were hauled away by the dozen.

          “My sspell cannot be undone with sswordss,” Hakan hissed. “Thiss iss wasste of time.”

          “Exactly,” Caladin agreed. “I mean, I admit, I was seriously trying to break the spell that way at first. But the only value I got out of that failure was a fantastic distraction.” As for what they were a distraction for, that was about to answer itself. A black figure appeared on the horizon. It walked slowly toward the arena.

          The figure was cloaked in shadow despite the oppressive sun beating down. A number of combat wizards attempted to stop his advance to no avail. Fireballs blasted into him and were snuffed out. Lightning was called down from the sky and fizzled against the aura of darkness surrounding him. He walked methodically forward, one slow step at a time and waved a hand. A wave of darkness rose up and swallowed a cluster of guardsmen. After that, the rest backed off.

          “Who iss that?” Champion Hakan demanded.

          “Who doesn’t matter,” Caladin said. “If you must know, it was a member of your emperor’s royal guard who went drinking way too late last night and was trying to get away with a quick nap while everyone’s attention was on the fight. That hardly matters; I’m the one controlling his body.” That particular wizard had been a prize Caladin had taken a while to crack. The man actually had some general wards that resisted magical attacks, they just hadn’t been able to stand against the combined might of six versions of Caladin attacking his dream simultaneously. Once Caladin had overpowered him, he’d orchestrated the perfect plan that was only now coming together. After waiting for the other guards to be called away to deal with the sudden army of peasants and fellow guards hacking at the barrier had been the perfect opportunity for him to steal Belorian’s crown from King Haedril. No other target that Caladin had found within a reasonable distance of the current battle had nearly as much mana on this person, and he was even equipped with a mana crystal. With mastery of lunamancy, he was unstoppable.

          The sleep walking wizard reached the edge of the arena. After so many of their number died trying to stop him, the rest of the guards let him advance. Their job was to defend their emperor, not the arena where this battle was taking place. When the dark wizard reached the edge of the barrier he raised his hands and sent a wave of darkness to surround the bubble separating them from the outside world.

          “Time Loop is a neat spell,” Caladin said. “But something tells me none of the people you trapped with it ever tried using lunamancy from the outside.”

          “Imposss—”

          There was a blinding flash of golden light as Champion Hakan’s spell was broken once and for all. The moment it was down, Caladin snapped his fingers and severed Hakan’s spine at the base of his neck with a simple visceramancy spell. It wasn’t personal. He just couldn’t risk ever getting trapped in that spell again. If Belorian’s Crown hadn’t been in reach—or worse, if it’d been inside the bubble with him—he wasn’t sure he could have ever found a way out. It was the most merciful death Caladin could offer Hakan, and it would leave no doubt of his victory.

          For the first time in over a year, when Hakan died, nothing happened. No reset. No golden fire. Caladin thought he might have seen just a flash of gold, but that might have just been a hallucination. The Time Loop had even been resetting his need for sleep, so his mind was feeling frazzled. He slumped to his knees in exhaustion. “It’s over!” he called weakly. “I won.”

          The sleep walkers he had been controlling were released the instant the Time Loop was broken. That included the guardsman using the crown. Some of them snapped to their senses and started shouting incoherently, but most just went right back to sleep. Emperor Kalokai’s guards stopped their efforts to control the crowd and assembled around their leader’s tent. All but one of them. The one still wearing Belorian’s Crown.

          “You!” the man shouted, pointing at Caladin.

          “Sorry about using you like that,” Caladin said. “You picked the wrong time to take a nap.”

          “You made me kill my countrymen! I’ll kill you for that!” A wave of darkness blasted out of his hands and made straight for Caladin. As soon as it happened it seem laughably obvious, but somehow Caladin hadn’t expected that reaction. He’d assumed the soldier would either go back to sleep, or take the crown off. The longer it was worn, the more painful the headache it caused. The effect of lunamancy itself was too strong. Even without Belorian’s influence infecting the crown, Caladin knew first-hand how intense the feelings of malice became. It was something he should have expected, as by controlling the man, he’d created plenty of reason for him to direct that malice at him, personally. With how much of a struggle it’d been to get past the man’s mental defenses Caladin should have known he’d retain a memory of the person that invaded his mind. But still, he hadn’t planned for it.

          Trying to fight lunamancy directly was idiotic, so Caladin teleported out of the way of the approaching wave. Caladin was behind him, but the pop of his vocomancy gave his position away. The enemy wizard turned. Knowing that traditional attacks were doomed to fail, Caladin instead used geomancy to pick up several chunks of dirt and fling them at his opponent. The magic animating the dirt could be negated, but the dirt itself would still have to be contended with, and he knew first-hand how expensive it could get to delete large objects. That didn’t stop his opponent. He lashed out with a dark shadow of his own hand. It swallowed Caladin’s dirt clods and continued forward, reaching for Caladin himself. The soldier was in a fury, lips curled back to expose sharp teeth.

          There was no strategy or lore Caladin could draw on to determine the best counter to lunamancy. All the books he’d read advised fleeing at the first sign of a lunamancer. He tried to think. It was the magic of the void. The gap between stars. That told him everything he needed to know. The sun. The sun could resist the void. That’s what he needed: star magic. He combined both pyromancy and luminomancy into a spear of burning light. It was too much to even look at, but it crashed into the hand of darkness and held it back. The darkness tried to crush Caladin’s light, to swallow it as it swallowed everything, but the light refused to go easily. Two mighty appendages struggled against each other, neither gaining ground.

          Caladin’s mana bars were going fast. This was a battle he’d lose, he knew. That mana crystal the enemy soldier had might not be rechargeable, but it was damned potent. Knowing that his magic would work, he pulled back his attack and surrounded himself in a tiny bubble of light. He let his enemy rage against him, flinging tentacles of darkness every which way and carving chunks from the soil. Anger burned hot, but it had a way of wearing itself out. He waiting for the attacks against him to wane, then struck back—quick as a viper. He sent a compressed arrow of burning light straight through the darkness and aimed it for the crown on the other man’s head. He didn’t have time to react. Caladin’s attack struck, knocking the crown to the ground.

          The moment the crown was removed, the enemy dragon-kin collapsed to the ground.

          Caladin wasted no time in recovering his crown with a cord of telekinesis. He was pleased to find that his attack hadn’t damaged it. “That might have been a bit reckless,” he told himself. He hadn’t actually known the crown would survive such a potent attack, but he was glad it had. King Philipus was likely beside himself with worry. Caladin could only imagine the incident his theft might have caused, with Philipus believing Emperor Kalokai had ordered one of his men to steal the artifact during the height of the chaos. He would have to make a hasty explanation. The palanquin with the emperor was not too far away, covered by a black tent and surrounded by black-robed guards. It didn’t exactly make sense to Caladin that black would be the royal color in this desert land, when it so clearly had to be inconveniently hot.

          After hooking the crown to his belt, Caladin approach the emperor’s tent at a walking pace, arms held high above his head. “It’s just me!” he announced. “It’s Caladin. I defeated your man in the arena and I’m just coming to report my success, not attack anyone.”

          As he drew close, Caladin saw that the emperor’s royal guards had all prostrated themselves in the dirt and were being verbally harangued by the herald. Whether he was doing so directly on the emperor’s orders or was just personally upset was anyone’s guess. Nobody challenged Caladin’s approach. The herald pointed an accusatory claw when he saw Caladin. “You!” he shouted. “What do you think you are doing?”

          “Just here to report that the match is over.” Caladin shrugged. “I won.”

          “You ssent ssome kind of magic outsside the arena! That was not—”

          Caladin held up a hand. “That was never a rule,” he said. “You said I could use whatever kind of magic I wanted, as long as I stayed inside the circle. I did.”

          “Kalokai’ss personal guard were mobilized on your behalf!” the herald shrieked. “What did you do to them to causse them to betray their emperor? Thiss iss an act of war!”

          “They didn’t betray anything,” Caladin said. “You were the one that ordered them to pull those civilians off the circle. Are you going to deny it?”

          “Y-you made them attack!” the herald sputtered. “Ssome type of mind magic forcced our people to sserve you!”

          “That wasn’t against the rules,” Caladin reiterated.

          “It most certainly was not,” King Haedril interjected, with a note of support. “The rules were quite simple and I do not recall any mention of targets outside the arena being invalid.”

          “He wass to sstay insside the ccircle at all timess!” the herald ranted. “If he left, Champion Hakan wass victoriouss.”

          “I never left the circle,” Caladin answered in a calm voice. “I think you and I both know leaving that circle was impossible. I did use my magic to manipulate the minds of a few soldiers and civilians outside the circle, but as my king said—that wasn’t against the rules.”

          “What hass happened to Champion Hakan?” the herald demanded.

          “He’s dead,” Caladin said. “His body is intact. He deserves a burial with full military honors. He was the most difficult opponent I have ever faced.”

          The herald scowled, but he leaned close to the emperor’s square tent to listen to a few hissed instructions. After a moment, he spoke. “The emperor hass declared the match to be invalid,” the herald declared. “There wass outsside interferencce. If you would like, we can schedule another—”

          “No,” Caladin said. The herald flinched. “Those were not the terms. I won. Your champion is dead.”

          “I undersstand your frusstration,” the herald said. He bowed slightly. “Perhapss a more remote location nexxt time?”

          “NO!” Caladin roared. The royal guard near the emperor’s box stepped forward and raised their weapons. Caladin inscribed a Sleep spell more complex and powerful than anything he had ever cast before. With his new mastery of the harmonic, gained through his time in the loop, he was able to weave it together with a complementary cerebromancy spell that helped it snake past their wards. As expected, they didn’t stand a chance. In a moment, all the guards dropped to the sand, snoring before they even hit the ground. Caladin included the herald in his sleeping spell. That left only Caladin, King Philipus, and Emperor Kalokai.

          “We’re done dealing with intermediaries,” Caladin snarled. He slashed the air with his hand and shredded the black tent cloth surrounding the emperor with a kinomancy spell. He and his king were left facing a wide-eyed dragon-kin of black scales with a golden gilding running up his chest and under his throat. His eyes, too, were bright gold. He wore a loose black robe, like his herald, and one hand clutched the arm of his throne uncertainly. His face crinkled up as he brought up his other arm to block the glare of the sun.

          “Say that again,” Caladin said. “This time, you’ll say it to our faces. Tell me the victory I just won doesn’t matter. I spent a year in there!” He pointed an angry hand back towards the arena. “We had an agreement that if I beat your champion, you would declare me the winner. Implicit in that agreement was the understanding that this battle of champions would make outright war between our nations unnecessary. So, tell me. Are you going to keep your word, or are we going to have a problem.”

          “Now, now, Caladin,” King Haedril said, holding up a restraining hand. “Let’s not get hasty. Kal, he didn’t mean that as a threat.”

          “Yes, I did,” Caladin said.

          “Well, he won’t make good on it without my say so,” Philipus insisted. Caladin just crossed his arms, letting his grumpiness show in his posture. “But please,” Philipus continued, “pick your next words carefully. Caladin gets twitchy when he’s upset.”

          The emperor glanced from Philipus to Caladin, and then back. “My herald. M-misspoke,” he said hesitantly. “Controlling my ssubjectss wass… within the boundariess of fair play. Of coursssse.”

          “That’s what I thought,” Caladin said. “I hope you don’t change your mind about that after we’re gone. I’d hate to have to come back here.”

          “I’d hate to have to send him back here,” King Haedril added. The threat was clear.

          Caladin waved a hand and released the emperor’s servants from their unnatural slumber. He could explain to them what had happened. Philipus joined Caladin in heading back towards the palace proper, where the teleportation circle was. He grabbed Caladin in a one-armed shoulder hug while they walked. “You were wonderful! Truly wonderful!” he said. He handed back Caladin’s enchanted cloak, with its pockets full of supplies. Caladin stored Belorian’s Crown within. “I didn’t know what to think when that black ball appeared. Then there was such a commotion. And one of the guards stole your crown right from underneath me. I truly thought we were done for! No champion, no crown.”

          “That was me,” Caladin said. “I needed to borrow the crown and didn’t have time to ask for permission.”

          “Incredible,” Philipus said. “Did you really control that many guards at the same time? I didn’t know you were so skilled at cerebromancy.”

          “That wasn’t cerebromancy,” Caladin said. “And I controlled a whole lot more than that.”

          “Oh? How many?”

          “About twenty-three thousand, give or take a few hundred,” Caladin answered. The king’s mouth hung agape. “What?” Caladin asked. “I was in there for a long time. And I saw an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

          “I do not understand,” Philipus said. “Did you say twenty-three… thousand?”

          Caladin shrugged. “I didn’t know where to look. It took a lot of trial and error to find a way out of Hakan’s trap. Plus, I found a way to make myself even more famous in the process. Only a small portion of people I controlled were here in Kreet.” The king had more questions, but Caladin cautioned against discussing the details of his fight until they were safely back home. He led the way back to the teleportation circle and they blinked back to Fort Sumnter.

          The soldiers of the fort were waiting for them when they arrived and gave a triumphant cheer. “Long live the king!” they shouted. “Long live the king!”

          King Philipus smiled and waved, then arched an eyebrow at Caladin. “How did you arrange this?” he asked discretely.

          “That’s not all I arranged,” Caladin told him. With a gesture, he blasted open the front gates of the castle, revealing a glittering pile of wealth lying on the floor of the throne room. Not just any wealth: dazzling gemstones, fist-sized mana crystals, ceremonial swords, a crown, a scepter, opulent necklaces, wristbands, and earrings. Gold on top of gold. “I present for your consideration,” Caladin announced with a dramatic flourish of his hands, “the crown jewels of Eldesia. Stolen, from Queen Fayse herself.”

          The king’s eyes went wide, eliciting a cheer of delight from his men. “How? What? When?” he sputtered.

          “Like I tried to tell you,” Caladin said, “I was in there for a while, and found a way to increase my fame in the process.”

          “Sir,” one of Philipus’ royal guards approached, giving a stiff salute. “We captured a representative from the usurper queen’s court. We were waiting to see what you wanted to do with her.”

          “That would be Fayse’s chamberlain,” Caladin informed him. “I’m afraid she spontaneously decided to steal the crown jewels and deliver them here.” He gave his king a wink. “Something tells me, she won’t want to go home when she finds out what she’s done.”

          A pair of guards walked up with a skinny eldrin strung up between them. Her head was bowed, hair a mess, nightgown in disarray. She wasn’t even fighting. “P-please,” she pleaded. “I don’t know how I got here!”

          King Philipus looked down at the jewels scattered across his throne room floor. The crown of office for Eldesia was a gaudy thing that would have to be balanced to even stay on his head, not like the simple band he wore most of the time. He turned his gaze back to the captive. “You’ve committed treason against your queen,” he told her. “Fayse will not soon forgive this. I can return you to her, of course. Do you wish to return? You might instead have a place in my court. I would honor you with a rank and title commensurate with your previous standing in Eldesia, and amnesty for any crimes you may have committed against my sovereign domain while serving the usurper Fayse. What is it you wish?”

          The woman looked up. Despite her discomfort and lack of proper dress wear, she had an elegance that couldn’t be denied. Her pale skin positively glowed with health, as did her bright white eyes. It seemed Fayse had an eye for beauty in those she chose to keep close at hand. “I’m not—I didn’t—” she started to say. She stopped herself. She scanned the room and seemed to take in the gravity of her situation. Caladin didn’t pity her, but was impressed with how quickly she realized her protestations would only fall on deaf ears. She set her feet on the ground and stood up taller, taking a second to collect her golden blonde hair behind her before nodding to the king. “Yes,” she said, “I would be honored to serve at the court of the true and rightful king of Eldesia.”

          “And what is your name?” King Philipus asked her. He nodded to his guards. “Release her.”

          This time she gave a proper curtsy. “You may call me Maeyla,” she said. “Maeyla Getano.”

          Philipus grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Getano. Please see Mister Haerild about your accommodations. He has been serving the duties of chamberlain in my court, but he doesn’t have anywhere near your family’s pedigree. We’ll speak again once you’ve settled.” He nodded at the guards accompanying the lady. “See that you are gentler with the lady,” he warned. “She will soon be telling you what to do.”

          The guards gave a sharp salute, then retreated.

          “You can’t really trust her to serve faithfully, can you?” Caladin asked when the woman had been escorted out.

          “Why not? Her interests are aligned with my own. Her star now rises and falls with Haedenia’s. The queen will never suffer a traitor to keep her head. I wouldn’t myself, were I in her shoes.” He looked again at the pile of amassed wealth. “How you managed to slip past the castle’s wards to arrange this delivery is beyond me.”

          “An oversight I imagine they’ll be patching soon,” Caladin said.

          “Regardless, this is quite a gift, Caladin. I daresay the usurper queen will have a hard time hiding the absence of the crown jewels. She will look weak, and us strong. That will be just the thing to convince the dwarves to vote in our favor on the council. With Queen Rusalia and now Emperor Kalokai we only need one more vote to gain a seat at the table. What can I do to repay you?”

          “I actually had something in mind for that,” Caladin said. He reached out to the pile of wealth and grabbed a bejeweled scepter. It was the only reason he’d pulled off his heist and it was the second one he’d done for the same item. “I want this scepter,” Caladin said. “Consider it a boon for my loyal service.” Mounted to the top of it, was a glass orb containing a tiny city, rendered in excruciating detail.

          “Of course, it is yours,” Philipus declared with a wave of his hand. “What is it, though? Gold and jewels don’t usually interest you.”

          “It’s no simple bauble,” Caladin explained. “You are looking at Tel’Andrid, the lost city of magi.” He had finally found it. Fayse had never stored it away in a bank vault, like the paper trail she’d left behind had implied. She’d instead been keeping it close at hand. Without the Time Loop to sharpen his oneiromancy to a razor’s edge, Caladin wasn’t sure how he ever would have gotten his hands on it.

          “I have heard of that artifact,” Philipus said with a hint of wonder in his voice. “It is said that it was once home to the most powerful wizards who ever lived.”

          “Yes,” Caladin said. “It still is. I was hoping one particular wizard in that city would agree to resume my apprenticeship. They have so much to teach me.”

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