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1

Lyn spent much of that evening with Brad in discussion. She had to call Bhelarm to their meeting, and Brad put together a list of what he needed to begin. He would be developing and producing antibiotics, poultices that could act as rapid-application bandages – like what he had used on Vael – so that she wouldn’t have to distribute healers amongst her forces. He took up residence in the throne room of the Demonic Dragon, settling in one of the sumptuously appointed tents.

Lyn made her way into the Conclave with Bhelarm. The older man had his head down, contemplating the ground. “What troubles you?” Lyn asked.

“My Lady,” he muttered before raising his gaze to meet hers. “I am…concerned. My daughter has yet to find a suitable partner, and she is getting on in years.”

Lyn groaned internally. Does this guy want me to play matchmaker? The fuck. “Okay. Is this something that will affect her or your duties?”

The elder Duskari shook his head, “No. It will not impede our duties. But…well, Gael is your bodyguard.”

Lyn nodded, “I get what you’re asking. I’ll inquire with him.”

Bhelarm bowed his head, “My thanks.”

They split at a fork in the tunnel, and Lyn went towards the infirmary. Making her way inside, she found Chancellor Vehenna chatting with an awake and yet still woozy Vael. “Good, you lived.”

Vael looked past the Chancellor and bowed her head, “My Lady, thank you for saving me.”

“My Lady, this Alchemist hero you have manipulated into your empire…his poultice worked wonders.” Vehenna stood up, gesturing to the wound. “This is as good as my best spell I could produce for healing. And yet he performed it with a simple poultice!”

Lyn shrugged, “The more heroes I can put under my control, the better. Go to my chambers, and grab that parchment with the body enhancing tolerance spell. We have more to utilize.” The Chancellor bowed and left. The room was empty, and Lyn shut the door before sitting on the bed next to Vael. “This is why I warned you two about dungeons. They are dangerous.”

Vael nodded tersely, “Forgive me for almost dying.”

Gael shook his head, “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s mine,” Lyn stated. “I should have told you about every possible encounter we could have met in a dungeon.” She looked between the two, “Enough about pity. Let’s talk body enhancement. You both have to decide-”

“She’s getting them,” Gael replied before she could finish. “Vael is getting them all.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded and looked at his sister, “She needs it more than me.”

She chuckled and nodded. “Apologies Lyn. I’m tired.”

Lyn nodded and led Gael out of the room. They began towards her chambers. “I also have something from Bhelarm,” she started. “His daughter Menora has the hots for you.”

“I’m sorry…the hots?”

Lyn chuckled, “Right. She wants to reproduce with you.”

Gael nodded tersely, “If that is what you comman-”

“No,” Lyn said, stopping him in the hallway and standing in front of him. “I am not going to force you to marry, breed, whatever the fuck Duskari call it. You are my bodyguard, and you get to choose what you desire.”

Gael nodded, “If she wishes a child, I can give her one. However…my heart belongs to another.”

Lyn groaned, “If you say me, I swear to God I will shove my boot so far up your ass-”

Gael shook his head. “No. It’s not you.”

“Who is it?”

“Bolvon,” Gael replied as a blush came over his face.

Lyn shrugged, “Well, I leave it to your discretion.”

“We do not marry, by the way. Duskari find a suitable partner, have at least one child – sometimes more than one – and then conclude their partnership when either person tires of the other.”

“That’s progressive,” Lyn commented as they arrived at her chambers, and she opened the doors. “As long as you’re fine plowing me when I ask you to, I don’t mind who you partner up with.”

Gael grinned, “Of course, my Lady.”

Lyn went into the restroom and dismissed her armor, sitting in the tub as Vehenna stood next to her with the written spell. “My Lady, you have the body enhancing items?”

Lyn reached into her storage choker and pulled out the three. “Yes.” First came the Farsight Eyedrops, which burned horrifically. It felt like her eyes were going to melt out of her skull – but the spell kicked in and she didn’t have to deal with the pain. Next was Faerie’s Intuition, which she had to snort. That sent her brain reeling and she went on the worst acid trip ever from the effect on her brain. Last was Crystal Marrow – and that one would be the absolute worst. Unlike the other body enhancing items, this one required the user to apply it to the bone. Vehenna handed the parchment to Gael, and he used the multi-verse spell as she took a shard of obsidian to Lyn’s flesh, charging it with mana to bypass the Ironhide body enhancement.

Lyn felt that pain. It was dull thanks to the spell, but there was a feeling of horror when one saw their own flesh cut apart and saw raw, white bone. That process took a full hour and was the second time Lyn had experienced the procedure. The first time was back when Trisha applied it post-dungeon. She described the experience as ‘anatomically interesting but horrifying in practice.’

After the hour had passed, and the procedure was finished, Lyn used the internal regeneration spell to repair herself almost instantly. “Good.” She gestured to the doorway, “Go and apply these to Vael.” The two bowed and left, as Lyn poured mana into the tub’s inscription, filling it with boiling water.

“My Lady,” a male voice said from the corner of the room.

Lyn stood up and drew Cataclysm, igniting the blade with mana as the room illuminated. Bolvon was standing in the corner. “How long have you been there?” she asked.

“As soon as you arrived from the dungeon, your grace.” He knelt and bowed his head, “Forgive the intrusion, but I did not wish to disturb your enhancement.”

Lyn dismissed Cataclysm and sank back into the tub. “I assume you have some news?”

He nodded and stood up, “Poweno is dead. And at the insistence of Velenna, I investigated Bhelarm and Menora.”

“And?”

“Something is off with the books and ledgers. Someone is stealing money.”

Lyn nodded and gestured for him to approach, “And the Spymaster has been informed?”

“Yes, my goddess.”

“Good. Thank you for your services, Shadowstalker Bolvon.”

The man bowed and left her to luxuriate in the hot water. Goddess…I like the sound of that more and more.

2

Stellas pulled the horses to a stop and dismounted. She led them both by the bridle a small stream that ran alongside the road through Western Trisk, and Thomas roused back to consciousness at the sudden shift in direction. I have no clue how he sleeps in the saddle, she thought.

“Good morning,” Thomas said as he slipped off his mount and stretched. “How far did we get?”

Stellas looked at the nearby mountains. This was just outside of Vharthos – her homeland, a small kingdom on the border of Trisk. She knew this area inside and out. “About three days out from Professor Misery’s school.”

Thomas nodded and squatted next to the stream, splashing water on his face. “Good. Only a few days to get there.”

Stellas went to the saddle bags and pulled out one of her notebooks, sitting down on a small rock and preparing ink and quill. She looked at Thomas expectantly, and the former Knowledge hero looked at her with a gleam in his eyes that she couldn’t quite identify. “We left off at gerunds,” she reminded him.

He nodded, “Right…those.” Thomas launched into a lengthy explanation, and Stellas was riveted to his every word. She was receiving tutelage from arguably the most learned being in existence on Ghomar, whose mastery of Elenthir was second only to the Mage hero. But Professor Misery was busy running a whole school and teaching dozens of students. Stellas had the opportunity of a lifetime, all because she chose to skip class and was punished by having to tend to the coma patient.

She had grown up in one of the farming villages within the kingdom of Vharthos. But she was born with multiple tails; an external sign of the Vharthon race that denoted them as having a particularly potent mana core – and she had six of them, when the most ever recorded was twelve.

For most of her youth, she was at the king’s court, learning from his court mage. But when Professor Misery opened her school, she was sent there instead. The four years were enjoyable, and she made lots of friends. But the learning was slower than she had hoped.

Here, with Thomas, she could ask any question she thought of. And he was more than happy to share his learning. The opportunity was just too good to pass up. Even more than that, though, she knew that she could play him like a fiddle. He was a man without his best friend. His pet wyvern had been killed, and she could tell by his reactions how close he was to his animal companion. As soon as she had shown a tiny bit of feigned interest, he latched onto the attention.

Was it manipulative? Yes. But they were both benefiting from this symbiotic partnership. She learned Elenthir from a world-class tutor, and he had a companion to talk to. I’ll keep this up as long as I can…or until I’ve learned all I can from him. She knew that his vast repository of knowledge and learning would last her a long, long time.

3

Lyn left the citadel and walked through Lynhold, using her earth spells to help create solid stone structures to rapidly expand the city. But she was only passing through, as she headed towards the Eastern edge of the Valley. She followed the map from her bracer, and eventually had to channel mana for a three-dimensional representation of the environment. There was a small hole in the ground, and using earth elementalism, she widened it before dropping down. She was in a low cavern, and had to crouch-walk forward before she eventually flattened herself to squeeze through a low-hanging shelf. This led her into a sparkling chamber – the interior of which was like a geode. A gateway stood in front of her. A simple, silver arch. This door marks the dungeon of Priva, Assassin. Threat within – time trial. Reward – dungeon core and artifact.

Lyn took a deep breath. A time trial was a unique type of dungeon. Instead of a week, she would only have whatever arbitrary time that was set by the Elenthian who made it. If she didn’t clear it in time, she would be returned to the entrance, and it would vanish and travel across the world. I wonder…She channeled mana into the map bracer. Okay bracer…mark this one for tracking? To her ecstatic delight, the dot she was standing near on the map turned deep purple. Good shit.

She went through her whole suite of internal spells as her muscles expanded and her physical traits were increased massively. Thanks to Faerie’s Intuition, she could sharpen her reaction time even further, to the point that she could see and dodge incoming projectiles. Not fast enough to dodge a bullet, but damned close. She took a deep breath and incanted one more spell. "Posto nin a gwathren / a doltho nin o thiathol / cario nin ú-enni / min i dû." Her body became wrapped in shadows as the spell caused the substance to cling to her body. If she was in a dark place, she would blend into the darkness. Not even Duskari or enhanced vision would be able to see her – only divination spells, or some other extrasensory ability would be able to spot her.

She stepped through the shimmering purple barrier and was in a square chamber with a pedestal. She walked forward, gripping Cataclysm’s hilt in her left hand, and pressed the button. A series of words appeared in front of her in Elenthir. Time Trial: Infiltrate the temple complex without detection and assassinate the high priest of Aelor.

The walls fell away, and she stood in a city. Far off in the distance was a large hill with cliffs on all but one side. The enormous temple structure atop the hill was like the Acropolis in Athens, and the city around her bustled. It was midday, so there were not plentiful shadows. A timer appeared above the temple; she had one hour.

Channeling mana into Cataclysm, she shifted it into the dual dagger configuration. The hilt shortened in her left hand, and another one appeared in her right as the daggers ignited with lava. But it did not burn and flicker, it was dull and muted. Crackling electricity arced along the blades, as wind billowed around the edges, infused with shadow, water, and shards of rock. She walked through the busy streets. The humanoid forms around here were all hooded and cloaked – their features impossible to discern.

Ten minutes later she stood at the base of the hill. The path leading up was heavily guarded. She instead went around the base of the hill to the cliffs on one side. Looking up, she muttered a spell. "Dírui aglatho i gaear bo nin / an leithio nin na / i amarth en hên." The ground rose under her feet and rocketed skyward silently, slowing as she approached the top of the cliff. She stepped onto the large plateau and dashed over to a wall, putting her back to it and blending into the shadows. She waited for several moments, listening, and eventually heard guards patrolling. Staying perfectly still, only flexing her muscles to keep them from cramping, she waited. A pair of guards rounded the wall she was next to, and they passed by. She moved the direction they had come from, staying along the wall.

She found a doorway and eased it open, slipping inside the temple complex. Right. Now to find the high priest. She went down the left-hand hallway, slinking along the wall.

4

James put his head into his hands and groaned. Why is good help so hard to find? The last few days had been trying to say the least. Cecily had sent a message back agreeing to the terms, so that was one small issue dealt with. But he knew that would not last forever. She still doesn’t forgive me, he thought. And he had done what she had wanted to do. He had taken over the kingdom. I’m no better than her.

He sighed and looked across his desk at the piles of paper. Missives congratulating him on his new position from every single duchy within the kingdom. Even the Free City of Bashinol which lay off the coast congratulated him on taking the throne from King Kristoph. But as always, those congratulations came with various requests. Requests, he knew, that could turn to demands. And if he did not at least meet some of those demands, then the duchies could declare independence – and he did not have the heart to engage in a civil war.

Standing up, James looked out the large window and over the capital of Kor’s Hold. Looking out upon it used to bring him a sense of wonder and appreciation. Now…he just felt responsibility. For this whole thing.

A voice came to his ears. A familiar, female voice. One that he had not heard in two years, speaking in English. “James? You there?”

He smiled, “Misty, hi. It’s been a while-”

“You fucking asshole! You killed Thomas?”

James went silent. Yes, I did, is what he wanted to say. But the guilt of the action gnawed at his mind. “I had no choice,” he muttered.

“Well good fucking job. Thanks to you, he’s a wreck! And he took one of my most promising students!”

What? “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, right. I brought him back.”

James’ eyes widened in shock. “How?”

“None of your business. Thomas is alive and well. He doesn’t have the hero core anymore, and he told me about the statue.” She let out a frustrated sound of aggravation. “And now, he’s left to visit Trisha and Ben. And, like I said, one of my best students went with him. You owe me.”

James felt relief. He had killed Thomas, yes, and the guilt was still there. But Thomas was alive. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You should be. Why the fuck did you kill his wyvern? Do you know how much that screwed with him? He’s going to be a wreck for God-knows how long!”

“I had to make a judgement call. And I thought you didn’t like Thomas after he slept with Lyn-”

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about her.”

James nodded to himself. “Yeah, okay…Volio came by. He had a letter for me from someone claiming to be Lyn. It was written in English.” He pulled it out of his pocket and read the contents to Misty.

“Where the fuck is my letter?” she mumbled.

“Volio said you were going to be one of the last places on his route.” James closed his eyes and tried to listen to his mana core. The lingering voice of Aelor. But it was silent. “Volio is convinced it’s her, but he thought she survived for all these years. For all we know, it’s just a Duskari with lava elementalism.”

“How do you know that?”

“Thomas saw it. He talked to her briefly before coming to see me.”

Misty sighed, “No one can use lava elementalism. Not even me.”

That surprised James. He thought Misty could do literally anything with Elenthir, having full mastery of the language. “Really?”

“Yes. Only the Destroyer core can use lava elementalism, a sub-type underneath fire. It’s something that is so potent, so violent, that only one mana core can exert control over it. I mean, I could use a lava elementalism spell, but I would probably be destroyed by it.” She went silent for a moment before continuing, “I’ll do some investigating. If this is actually Lyn, then I’m going to find out.”

“If it is Lyn,” James said softly, “Then could you apologize to her? Not just for me, but for all of us; taking the glory of the kill. I know it was a fucked-up thing to do.”

“No. You can apologize yourself. Just like you should apologize to Thomas. Not that I care about him. Or you. In fact, go fuck yourself you arrogant dick.”

James waited with bated breath for her to say something else, but after waiting for a minute, he knew that she had ended the spell. He went back to his chair and sank into it. None of the heroes were his friends anymore. I don’t need friends, he thought. Not when I have my Paragon core. Not when I have my family.

It hurt, still, knowing that he was still the outcast among the students. He only had one real friend, and he had killed the man. Thomas would want nothing to do with him. James had isolated himself from all the other heroes.

The mana core whispered to him. The voice of Aelor, a single, tiny fragment of the deity’s lingering consciousness. It faintly encouraged him. No, you’re right, he told himself in his mind. He was the Paragon. He needed no one else. He was the hero, chosen by a deity. My family, duty, and mana core are all I need.

Next Chapter >

Comments

Nikolaus Sheehan

Thanks for the chapter. Loving the story so far.

Fervent Fiend

Looking through previous comments and just the general impression you’ve provided for these characters, and first, bravo, they are compelling. The intentional flaws is an excellent choice. The fact that every hero has a hamartia, just exceptional. And the paragon hero, whether or not he actually hears a voice, but him having the incredible vanity to believe all his actions are just because he is the chosen of god. Well, I’ll enjoy a traditional Russian pastime of watching train-wrecks in action.