BleedingTears
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Arcanist - Chapter 57
🕑 Added 2025-03-26 17:34:02 +0000 UTCWhere did I hear that name? Just a moment ago, a giant eye-beast screamed that into my mind. Does that count?
Valens kept his face straight against Captain Edric’s reaction. He didn’t expect a single name would make a Templar like him shocked and angry, but then, names could hold deep meanings in them.
The mere mention of the Inquisition back in the Empire would send shivers to all Magi in active duty, for it represented the centuries-long suppression they endured under the Usurper’s tight laws. It wasn’t a mere construct tasked with protecting peace. It was a torch, a warning, and at times, a gun pointed directly at people who defied the norms that the Inquisition had laid for everyone other than itself to heed.
Why am I thinking such things? Is it because I’m afraid? Fearful that there are things that I can’t understand in this world? Or is it because I was reminded of my weakness in the most blatant way possible?
That creature seeped into his core and made him feel small. He hadn’t felt so small since he was taken to the Rootmetal cells of the Inquisition. Not after he embraced the depths of Warmagic and began exploring them. But now, it seemed that hadn’t been enough.
He needed more.
And for that, he had to learn every little thing to overcome this trial.
“I’m not sure,” Valens said as Captain Edric and the other Templars waited in silence around him, the Fiend’s corpse under their toes. The truth of the matter demanded discretion, and that, he could do. “I don’t exactly remember where I heard it.”
“That’s a lie,” Garran grinned at him. “And not a good one.”
Captain Edric took a step toward him, one hand over the handle of his sheathed sword, golden armor shining in the dark of the passage. “Garran’s right,” he said, voice low. “You’re lying.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly stating truths along the way either, were you, Captain?” Valens answered, eyes narrowing down. “You know something about this mountain, and the sea we saw in those murals. You have an idea of where we could be, or to whom this crypt belonged, yet you kept your silence.”
“I have no obligation to inform a stray Healer about the origins of this Cursed Rift,” Captain Edric said. “If I didn’t say anything, it was because it’s none of your concern. This matter is about the Damned, and dealing with the Damned is our job, not yours. Now speak. What do you know about the Evercrest Family?”
“I know they are a family now,” Valens said, slightly intrigued. “And I have an inkling of a doubt that they might have something to do with this Cursed Rift, though I’m not exactly sure what.”
“Nonsense,” Captain Edric said in his low voice. “The cleansing of the Evercrest Family and their Chimeric Order from the Haven’s Reach predates even the founding of the Melton Kingdom. They were eradicated, and there hasn’t been a single sighting of the Endless Mist for hundreds of years. This Cursed Rift has nothing to do with them. The Weeping Horror is a Terror that only heeds to the call of its Mistress.”
“Mother of Venerable Fates,” Valens said.
So the Hollows they came across before the rift, the Shriekers creeping about in these halls, and that giant-eye creature… Every one of them was calling to the Wretched Mother when they kept whispering the word Mistress.
But that creature seemed furious for being deceived. It couldn’t have been its own mother, could it? So something else is going on here, and whatever it is, it has to do with this Evercrest Family.
“That isn’t entirely true, though, is it?” Valens asked after the captain nodded. “You said it is possible to strike a deal with the Damned if you’re insane enough to believe you have a chance. What if someone did exactly that? And what if this Weeping Horror has been deceived?”
“That’s a bit of a stretch, eh, Val?” Garran scoffed at him before Captain Edric could answer. “Do you even know what a Terror is? A Terror’s a Damned that managed to cross its Fourth Trial, a creature so vile and encompassing that even a Hexmender could lose their mind if they gaze directly at it. It’s a demigod who could pass through centuries in its slumber, who could level the land and bloat the sky with its very presence. You think anyone can just convince it?”
“I don’t know,” Valens said thoughtfully. “But if it’s open to a bargain, I'd say anything is possible.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Captain Edric cut them off. “Even if by some stroke of luck someone managed to get a Terror to agree to a deal, it doesn’t change the fact that Haven’s Reach would reject its presence. There’s not enough Authority in anyone to pave a way open for a creature of that magnitude.”
“Not even this Evercrest Family?” Valens asked, waving a hand around him. “And with a giant mountain of pure mana in their hands?”
Captain Edric’s face tightened as they locked eyes with Garran. He then shook his head and turned to Valens with a frown. “Ancient Orders are no more, Healer. What few are left of them are hiding in the Broken Lands. They could ill afford to try their chances at breaking the boundaries of Haven’s Reach. Not when the Sun’s Church and the other Divine Orders still stand strong.”
“If you—“
“Enough,” Captain Edric said sharply. “I’m not sure from where you heard that name, but it’s clear you know so little of it to make much sense. Now, listen to me. I’ve been in this business for dozens of years, and seen many horrors you couldn’t begin to imagine. Do you know what’s the one thing they shared?”
He eyed him coldly, which promptly shut Valens’s mouth before he could try to work up an answer. The man was right. He knew so little of it that he wasn’t sure what an Ancient Order was or what sort of twisted plots were in play here. He knew so little of it, but then, he knew what he saw a moment ago, and he knew the Templars weren’t by his side to witness it.
What could frighten the owner of that giant eye so much that it wailed and screamed before it receded back? Who could, indeed, dare to deceive a being like that which nearly consumed Valens from within?
And how exactly did I survive that?
He felt his chest cavity. A change was happening there. He could hear it in the Resonance like the distant roars of gears turning somewhere beyond his sight. He was about to check it when Captain Edric demanded his attention with a fierce look.
“The weak have to resort to little games. The weak know with a crushing certainty that words or tricks are all they have,” the captain said gravely. “But shadows don’t scheme. Shadows don’t plot. They just do, because for them, there’s scarcely a need for anything else.”
A heavy silence settled between them. Black liquid dripped down from the basalt walls, the faint sound of the drops reverberating across the stretch until Captain Edric gestured at Garran and Dain toward the creature. They obliged dutifully, drawing their swords and carving the Eldhollow’s chest wide open.
Visible under the tight muscles and flesh of the creature was a round object emanating a set of frequencies that felt familiar. It resembled the Riftshard from the Necromancer, though it was battered and full of cracks. The moment Dain wrenched it out of the creature, mana started spilling from inside of it, pouring into the passage like frail whiffs of a bonfire about to die off.
[Riftshard - Cursed]
“Burn the shard,” Captain Edric ordered, then turned briskly away, leaving Garran and Dain alone to do the deed. “Then we kill the other Fiend and seal the anchor of this Rift. No more questions.”
“No more questions,” Garran echoed him silently, with a wide smile over his lips before giving Valens a look.
Then he winked.
Valens arched an eyebrow at him.
It seemed there was at least someone who would be willing to answer a few questions of his.
Good. I need some answers.
…….
Burning the cursed shard proved to be a simple affair, albeit it took an egregious amount of holy flames rather than a few stabs from a sword. Valens studied the frequencies of the wavering flames the round object was blessed with by the pair of Templars, and found, much to his surprise, that they were coming out from the Templars’ bodies.
It was as though each Templar carried a flame inside their body, and could, at will, use them if needed. What felt odd to Valens was that there was no heat. Nothing suggesting those flames were affecting the shard on a material level. Neither the cracks over it, nor the solid parts of its surface showed a clear sign that the object was, indeed, burnt by flames.
But when Valens looked at it more closely, he saw that the mana resting inside the Riftshard was gone, and left behind it a lingering smell of lavenders.
It brings back memories, that’s for sure.
They started their trudge toward the deeper parts of the crypt when the deed was done, with a still angry Captain Edric taking the lead all by his lonesome. Dain bounded after him to keep him company, but Garran remained a good distance away from him with Valens by his side.
“Before you ask any questions,” Garran muttered, that grin still plastered over his face in the manner of a dealer who could control all the cards, “know that I can only tell you so much. If you want to learn more of the dark side of our history, then you have to become a member of the Sun’s Church.”
Celme was right. These people hold information from the public. What a surprise.
“You’re a clever man, Val,” Garran said when Valens gave him an odd look. “You should know better than to think becoming a member of the Church is just about being a zealous man who’s willing to devote his whole life to the Blessed Father. There are other ways to go about with these things. More practical ways.”
“Well, I’ve been told my skills would not sit well with the general view of your Church. So you can understand when I say that I have my doubts,” Valens said matter-of-factly, then he gazed at the wide back of the captain trudging ahead. “And I don’t think the captain likes me. I think he hates my guts.”
“There’s always two sides to a coin,” Garran said. “You see which side you want to see. Captain doesn’t hate you. It’s just that it’s too far of a possibility to be taken seriously. The Evercrest Family? The Endless Mist? These are stories of a past long gone. We have real things to worry about.”
“Like what?” Valens asked.
“Like that Fiend,” Garran jerked a thumb back over his shoulder to the way they’d come, then he swirled it round and pointed it forward. “Like the other Fiend waiting for us ahead. In this line of business, chasing ghosts will get you nothing. You have to focus on the present.”
I thought chasing ghosts was exactly the thing you people did.
“Good thing I’m not a part of that particular line of business, then,” Valens said.
“True,” Garran smiled. “You’re not yet one of us.”
Valens frowned at that last part. Joining the Sun’s Church, or any church for that matter, didn’t even cross his mind. And even if he wanted, could he become a Templar at all? How did that work, exactly? Would they pour some of those holy lights down his throat if he agreed to it? Would they perform a ritual or a sermon to bless his soul so that the Blessed Father above could grant him his blessing?
I didn’t come here to serve some questionable purpose that has nothing to do with me, but maybe I can do something with… this.
“Tell me about those practical ways,” Valens said. “I’m guessing those won't have me forced to be integrated into your church’s inner circle?”
“Clever, indeed,” Garran’s smile widened. “You can work for us. That’ll get you some money and limited access to our inner workings. You’ll have to swear an Oath, but you have nothing to worry about if you don’t intend to burn the Church in the future, or start a rebellion.”
He cracked a laugh after he finished with it, but Valens could still feel his gaze as if the man waited for a reaction to those words. A flinch. A tell.
There wasn’t any.
“I’ll think about it,” Valens said, in part because he didn’t have a clear impression of the Sun’s Church yet, and in part since this conversation made him a touch uncomfortable. It felt as if Garran was masking his probes with an occasional laugh or a joke that fell on deaf ears.
They don’t trust me. I guess I can’t blame them.
“Good. Think on it. There’s no rush,” Garran nodded as they continued on through the passage. “Go on, then. Ask. I promise I will give answers to the best of my ability.”
Questions, eh? I have quite a few of them.
“Tell me more about this Evercrest Family,” Valens asked. It seemed like a good starting point to his string of questions. “Who are they, and why did the mere mention of them make the captain that uncomfortable?”
“They are Ancient humans. That’s why,” Garran said, his smile peeling away from his lips. “To be honest, I don’t know a lot about them. The last time they were seen was just before the Ancient Era ended and gone with them the Endless Mist. She was either devoured by the Tainted Father, or hid herself from the material world. At least that’s what the records say. You can never be too sure about the history.”
“She?” Valens breathed. “The Endless Mist is a she?”
“So they say,” Garran snickered. “Women, eh?”
Valens gave him a humorless smile, while inwardly he was rather shocked to find there could be two possible answers to the question in his mind. Was the Trial talking about the Wretched Mother, or the ‘she’ mentioned in its lines was the Endless Mist?
This is not getting easier.
“There’s a reason why we call them the Forsaken,” Garran continued with a tight-lipped smile. “Only nine Ancient Class-Paths are known to men, and each of them belong to an ancient bloodline, deeply intertwined with the Forsaken of the Tainted Father’s court. It’s a good thing they’re mostly gone.”
“Not entirely vanished, though?” Valens asked.
“They say you could still find some signs of them creeping about the Broken Lands, too spent from the Ancient Era to do anything other than survive, searching for ways to reignite their lost strength. But I wouldn’t worry too much about them. I’ve been a Templar for more than twenty years, and I have yet to see a serious attempt.”
“Say that it happened,” Valens muttered. “Say that there’s been an attempt. How would you know it’s serious, then?”
“Oh?” Garran said gravely. “You would know. We would know. There would be strange things you can’t explain. There would be blood and chaos. Most importantly, there would be a sign from the Blessed Father and the other Divines. They would let us know danger is coming.”
“Good,” Valens swallowed. “That’s a relief.”
A relief indeed… So there’s a good chance that the ‘Ancient’ word beside my race and class could mean I have some connection with these Forsaken. Great. That couldn’t possibly be a bad thing.
His skin prickled suddenly as the odd sensation around his chest cavity grew stronger, the faint sounds of the gears turning echoing deep in his ears. Scowling, Valens managed a Lifeward in his body, reaching out to the frequencies of his core.
He expected to crash into that invisible barrier again, which quieted the songs of the world. What he found, instead, was a door.
A giant door with a familiar sphere cocked deep in its surface.
.....
Comments
Simon
Seems like the first mage of his world was part of the evercrest family. The deal might have been a few things but most likely something like limiting the humans of valens world with the restrictions on war magic and void.
Nyomf
I've been thinking of it like he came from a xianxia style pocket dimension, some place that's been sealed off since ancient times and so has developed differently
Elle
I caught up. That was an enjoyable read. Lots of directions this could go.
Elle
I assumed the evercrest family locked down his world with the promise not to interfere. I dont see a clear time travel happened.
Myrdin
So, Valens actually travelled to the future, not another world?
Stephen Pearson
Thanks for the chapter! :-)
